#and caleb is watching her from a distance instead of going over to her

[boxeom]

Was wondering why this all seemed vaguely familiar.

[dollyswishingwell]

Would you mind doing hcs or scenarios of the lads boys babying the reader?

ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ Pampered

𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 ˙⋆✮ Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 ˙⋆✮ Fluff, lots and lots of fluff, rich men, babying, very fem reader, spoilt princessy attitude

> ࣪𖤐.ᐟ A good husband always cherishes his wife

𝙍𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙡 °‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The sea was whispering again.

Gentle waves murmured against the pale white shore, the breeze brushing against the silk curtains of the open veranda. Somewhere far in the distance, a gull cried out, but it was barely noticeable over the soft hum of a lullaby playing on the estate’s hidden speakers, something Rafayel composed himself, tuned perfectly to the frequency that made your eyelids flutter and your shoulders melt.

you lay curled in a nest of imported satin cushions, cradled in a hand-carved seashell chaise, one leg lazily thrown over the armrest as you scrolled on your crystal tablet, mostly just pretty things. Dresses, shoes, crowns you didn’t need but would own before sundown. A half-eaten slice of strawberry mille-feuille sat on the side table, and a pearl-handled fork dangled from your fingers.

Rafayel appeared without warning, the way he always did, barefoot, disheveled, smelling like seawater and sun. His shirt was half-open, sleeves damp and rolled to his elbows, revealing speckles of paint on his wrists. He dropped down beside you with a melodramatic sigh, long limbs folding with an elegance that should’ve been impossible for someone so annoyingly lazy.

“You weren’t in the studio,” you murmured, not looking up.

He rested his head in your lap with a little grin. “Nope. Skipped it. Thomas threw a fit. Something about a gallery showcase. I wasn’t listening.”

“You never are.”

“I was thinking about you instead,” he said, voice low and sweet like syrup. “My little cutie. Wondering if you drank enough water. If you remembered to use the SPF I got you. If you ate anything besides strawberries and cream.”

He tilted his head up to look at you, blue-pink eyes soft and utterly devoted. His voice dropped to a playful whisper.

“Did you?”

“…Maybe.”

With a tut, he sat up just enough to kiss your cheek, then your nose, then your collarbone. Each kiss light, lingering, and just a little possessive.

“You’re getting thinner,” he muttered, fingers ghosting down your arms. “Do I have to spoon-feed you again like last week?”

“I was just tired,” you said, already flushing.

He clicked his tongue. “No excuses, darling. Not when you’re this precious.”

Before you could protest, he was standing again, scooping you up like a bride and cradling you against his chest. You gasped, arms circling his neck as he carried you inside, through the long marbled hallway with shells pressed into the walls, past the domed skylight above the orchid pool, into the sun-drenched kitchen where he deposited you onto the barstool like she weighed nothing at all.

“Sit. Watch,” he said, tapping your nose.

He moved around the kitchen like a dancer, pirouetting with flour, sea salt, delicate herbs, and rare imported fish you’d never remember the name of. Youdidn’t need to. All you knew was that Rafayel made it taste like luxury, and he always cut it into heart shapes or something ridiculous and adorable just to make you giggle.

“Raffy,” you said, eyes glittering. “You never let me do anything anymore.”

He smirked over his shoulder, already plating your food with edible flowers. “Exactly. You’re not supposed to.”

“You trapped me here.”

“Mmhm.”

“In a seaside estate.”

“Go on.”

“And now you pamper me like I’m made of glass.”

He finally turned to you, setting the plate down and leaning over, voice dark and sweet.

“That’s because you are.”

He kissed you then, right as the ocean’s breeze came through the tall windows, lifting the hem of her gauzy robe. You tasted like sugar and strawberries. He deepened the kiss for a moment, hands cradling your jaw, before pulling back with a faint sigh.

“You were a deep space hunter once,” he murmured, brushing your hair behind your ear. “So brave. So serious. So exhausted.”

He kissed your temple.

“And now you’re mine. Soft, spoiled, babied. Loved.”

Your heart fluttered as he picked up the fork again, feeding you the first bite like you were a pampered empress, watching you chew with satisfaction.

“I even bought you that glass tiara you wanted,” he added casually. “It’ll be delivered tomorrow. You can wear it in the bath.”

You tried to scowl but failed miserably as he kissed you again, tongue brushing yours with teasing affection.

“Now be good, sweetheart,” he whispered, brushing his thumb over your lips. “And eat everything. I need my princess fat and happy and absolutely useless, remember?”

You giggled, and Rafayel smiled like it was the only sound he ever wanted to hear.

Later That Evening…

The sea was quieter now. Dark. Still.

Inside the bedroom, the lights were low, casting soft golden patterns across the high ceiling. You were sprawled across Rafayel’s chest, tucked beneath a gauzy blanket that still smelled faintly of orchid milk and sea salt. His arms were looped lazily around your waist, fingertips drawing little circles over your spine.

“You’re heavy when you’re full of cake,” he murmured sleepily, voice low and teasing against your hair.

You huffed. “You made me eat it.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through your cheek where it rested against him. “Exactly. Can’t have my princess going to bed hungry. What kind of housewife would you be if you weren’t spoiled to the brim?”

“You baby me too much.”

He kissed the top of your head. “And you let me.”

You were quiet for a moment, listening to the waves outside the open windows, the hush of the curtains moving in the breeze. Then softly, almost inaudibly:

“…I like it.”

He smiled against your skin, arms tightening just enough to remind you he was there—warm, solid, utterly yours.

“Good,” he whispered, brushing your hair back, “because I’m never going to stop.”

𝙕𝙖𝙮𝙣𝙚 ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

The kitchen was too bright for the early hour, sunlight spilling through the marble arch windows and casting pale gold over polished countertops. The scent of warm rice and grilled miso fish hung in the air, delicate, mild, designed to suit his palate, even if the aesthetic of the lunchbox was unmistakably yours.

The box itself was pastel pink and shaped like a bunny. Inside were neatly arranged rice balls with seaweed smiley faces, tamagoyaki folded into hearts, and a miniature note folded into a star that read:

“Don’t skip lunch, Dr. Grump <3”

Zayne adjusted his tie with one hand and looked down at the open box on the counter with a small, nearly imperceptible smile. The corners of his mouth tilted up just a touch. That was all.

“Adorable,” he muttered under his breath, voice thick with fondness.

Then, he heard it, your steps, light and quick, coming down the grand stairs wrapped in that little robe he bought for you. Silk, dove gray, your initials monogrammed just above the heart. Your hair was still messy from sleep, lips pouting with early-morning fatigue as you shuffled into the kitchen, bare feet soundless against the heated floors.

He turned just in time to catch you mid-yawn.

“You’re up early,” he said quietly, smoothing his coat sleeve. “You usually sleep in when I have morning rounds.”

You blinked up at him. “Wanted to see you off.”

Zayne leaned in immediately, pressing a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth. Each kiss was firm, grounding, practiced. He only pulled back to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“You should be in bed,” he said in that soft, familiar scold he reserved only for you. “The sheets aren’t going to warm themselves.”

“But your lunch—”

He held up the bunny-shaped box with a faintly amused expression. “Already packed. With love, I assume?”

“Always,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes.

“Then I’ll eat it in front of the nurses just to show them what a spoiled man I am.”

You flushed a little at that, but Zayne was already turning back to the counter, picking up his tablet and checking the schedule for the day with mechanical efficiency. You knew that look, the Doctor Mode™ face. Still, even with the schedule laid out and his mind already halfway into the operating room, he reached for you with his free hand, pulling you to stand between his legs as he leaned back against the counter.

“You should go back to bed,” he said again, tone softening. “Or take a bath. I already had the temperature set.”

You made a small, sleepy whimper and leaned into him, arms around his waist.

“I miss working,” you admitted, voice muffled against his vest.

Zayne’s fingers slowly combed through your hair. “You miss exhaustion. You miss forgetting to eat and falling asleep in your office chair.”

“I miss my team…”

“They email you. Weekly. And I never stopped you from reading the mission reports.”

You pouted. He kissed it off your lips.

“I didn’t make you quit,” he murmured. “I asked you to rest. To be soft. To be mine. Fully. And you said yes.”

You nodded, slowly. Zayne held your chin and looked at you seriously, hazel-green eyes sharp behind his glasses.

“You are not missing anything out there. You have everything here.”

Then he lifted you easily onto the counter, his large hands warm against your thighs. “You’re my perfect little wife. You pack my lunches with bear-shaped rice balls and handwritten notes. You bring me tea when I forget to hydrate. You nap in the sunroom. You water the hydrangeas. You pick out my pocket squares.”

He slid one into your hand now, a soft peach one to match your robe.

“I am not letting you throw yourself back into that chaos. Not when I finally have you to myself. Not when you finally smile more than you sigh.”

You swallowed, cheeks burning. “You’re so bossy in the mornings.”

“I’m bossy because I care.”

He pulled you off the counter, set you gently on your feet, and buttoned up your robe with care, like you were porcelain. Then, from his coat pocket, he produced a sleek little pillbox.

“You forgot your supplements yesterday. Take them now.”

“Zaaaynieeee…”

“No. Open.”

You did, and he popped one onto your tongue, following it with a kiss so soft you forgot what you were arguing about.

Later that day…

He would sit in the break room, quietly ignoring grayson’s complaints while pulling the pink bunny bento out of his briefcase. When he read the little note, he’d smile to himself, just a bit.

Then, when one of the interns commented on how “cute” it was, he would deadpan:

“She makes them for me every morning. I consider myself extremely fortunate.”

And when he got home—exhausted and loosened from his suit, he’d find you in his oversized shirt, already asleep in his study, curled up in his reading chair. He’d pick you up, kiss your forehead, and carry you to bed without a word. Tucking you in like the most precious thing in his life.

Because you were.

𝙓𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧 ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

It was always quiet in the upper floors of the penthouse.

Soft, surreal quiet, the kind that only existed in homes built high above the clouds. The kind of quiet where time slowed down, and everything felt like a dream stitched together with silk and moonlight.

You were draped in one of Xavier’s oversized white sweaters, sleeves swallowing your hands as you curled up on the crescent-shaped couch in the sunroom. The sweater smelled faintly of his cologne, clean, cool, and something like starlight, and you’d started to associate that scent with safety.

With home.

The low hum of the smart kettle simmered in the background. A jar of golden marmalade sat open beside a tiny teacup, half-filled with his special blend of herbal tea. A handmade plate of shortbread cookies (triangle-shaped, because Xavier didn’t understand why cookies had to be round) waited quietly beside it.

And of course, he was fast asleep. Again.

Curled on the floor beside your legs, one hand resting gently on your ankle like a makeshift leash. His silver hair spilled over your lap, impossibly soft. His breathing was slow, rhythmic, peaceful. Even when unconscious, Xavier looked like something from another world, beautiful, strange, quietly devoted.

You giggled softly and brushed his bangs back, watching the way his lips parted slightly. He made a sleepy hum, then shifted closer, nuzzling into your thigh with all the gentleness of a pampered cat.

“You really fell asleep again?” you whispered, amused.

“Mhm,” he mumbled without opening his eyes. “Recharging.”

“You came in to bring me tea, not nap.”

“I did bring the tea.”

You smiled, brushing your fingers along the shell of his ear. “You’re lucky I don’t mind.”

He finally opened one eye, a soft, glassy blue, and tilted his face toward you, still resting against your lap. “You left the bath too early.”

“You were asleep in the bath.”

“I was making sure the temperature was consistent.”

You snorted. “By napping in it?”

He blinked slowly. “Yes.”

You leaned down and kissed his forehead. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m your husband.”

“Which is the same thing.”

Xavier exhaled slowly, then rose to sit beside you. He reached over, wordlessly tugging you into his arms and onto his lap, adjusting your position with graceful efficiency. Your legs ended up draped over his, arms looped around his neck as he cradled you like something precious. Which, to him, you were.

“You’re not allowed to go back to the association.” he murmured, voice low. “I locked your gear away.”

“You hid my gun too.”

“You’re not a hunter anymore,” he whispered, resting his cheek against yours. “You’re… you’re mine.”

You shivered a little, not because it was cold, but because there was such finality in the way he said it. Not possessive. Not controlling. Just… pure. Like a simple fact of the universe.

“You say that like I’m your treasure.”

“You are,” he said. “And treasures stay indoors. Where they’re warm. And happy. And dressed in very soft sweaters.”

You laughed, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth. “You made me quit.”

“You were tired,” he said simply. “You were hurt. You didn’t say it. But I saw.”

You looked away, but his fingers gently turned your chin back toward him.

“I’ll never let you get hurt again,” he promised. “Not while I’m here.”

“…You’re always here.”

“Exactly.”

He kissed you, soft, dreamy, slow. The kind of kiss that erased the years of chasing stars and burying your exhaustion in duty. The kind of kiss that said: Stay. Let me love you like this forever.

You melted into him, into his arms, into this beautiful moonlit home he’d made for you both.

Later that night…

You found a small wrapped package on your vanity: a new pastel dress, chosen by Xavier himself. Along with it, a simple sticky note in his oddly neat handwriting:

“For tomorrow’s sunroom breakfast.

I promise to make round scones this time. I love you. – X”

You giggled, holding the dress to your chest. Then, from somewhere in the hallway, came the sound of a light thud, Xavier had fallen asleep halfway to the bed again.

Of course.

Your sleepy, sweet, doting husband.

𝙎𝙮𝙡𝙪𝙨 ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩

The mansion wasn’t built for subtlety.

It spanned over three sprawling hills of private land in a region Sylus referred to only as “safehouse no. 7.” You once joked that any place with diamond chandeliers and six koi ponds didn’t qualify as a safehouse, but Sylus had just smirked, kissed your forehead, and said, “Kitten, I don’t half-ass security. Or aesthetics.”

Everything inside shimmered like it had been plucked from a fairy tale and reimagined through luxury catalogues. Velvet chaise lounges in your favorite colors. Rococo mirrors imported from galaxies you couldn’t pronounce. Every door had a gilded, custom-made floral etching, and every single room smelled faintly like roses and the perfume Sylus claimed “only suits his princess.”

And in the center of it all, you.

Wrapped in lace and tulle and sitting on the marble vanity as your husband fastened a delicate anklet around your leg. A charm dangled from it: a tiny red crow with a ruby eye. Matching the brooch nestled on your collarbone. Matching the smug glint in his red eyes as he leaned forward to press a kiss just above your ankle.

“There,” he murmured. “Now the whole estate knows who you belong to.”

You giggled, lips parted in a dazed smile. “You already made them print my initials on all the guest towels.”

“And?”

“And you renamed the island after me.”

His smile grew wider, arrogant. “A island is still too small for you.”

You laughed harder, curling your fingers in his silvery hair as he stood to full height, crowding you gently against the mirror. His hand slipped around your waist, firm and possessive.

“You’re insufferable,” you teased.

“I’m perfect,” he corrected, voice low, smug. “And so are you. That’s why I dragged you out of that pathetic job. Look at you. You were never meant to be anything less than worshipped.”

His voice dropped lower, brushing heat against your neck.

“I built this place for you. Every velvet curtain. Every silk sheet. Every gold-dusted bath bomb. All so my princess could finally live like the doll she was meant to be.”

“I do like the bath bombs…”

He chuckled. “You like the fact that I warm the tub for you and brush your hair while you soak in them.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

“And today,” he said, brushing his thumb over your lip, “you’re not lifting a single finger. I had a schedule drafted.”

You blinked. “…A schedule?”

“Of pampering,” he said, guiding you off the vanity and onto his arm. “First: brunch. The chef has recreated those heart-shaped waffles you liked. Then: wardrobe preview. Every dress in your new closet is custom—frills, bows, ridiculous sparkle. You’re picking your favorites and we’re hosting a private photoshoot. I’ve cleared the whole wing.”

You flushed. “Sylus, I don’t need—”

“You need to be spoiled,” he said simply. “That’s my job. To make you giggle. To hear that sweet voice saying you missed me while I was out threatening arms dealers. I want to come back to my princess twirling in something pretty and demanding I carry her down the stairs.”

“…So if I did that right now—?”

He bent low and swept you off your feet before you could finish. Bridal-style. Effortless.

You squealed and held on as he carried you, smirking all the way down the marble steps like he was showing off a rare jewel.

“See?” he said. “Perfect.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m your ridiculous.”

Later that evening…

He returned from one of his armory audits, only to find you curled on the sofa in one of your new frilly nightgowns, cuddling a plush red crow he’d sneakily commissioned to resemble him.

He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, leaning against the doorway, watching his wife hold a doll version of him like it was her most treasured thing in the world.

“…I take it you like the surprise?” he said smoothly.

You looked up, eyes wide and glowing. “He sings when you squeeze his tummy!”

You demonstrated, and yes, it was his voice. Singing one of the lullabies he only ever hummed when he thought you were asleep.

“God your singing is horrible as always” You laugh lovingly.

Sylus stared for a moment. Then gave a rare, genuine smile.

“does that mean i can take it back?.”

You pout. “No.”

“Okay okay kitty put those claws away,” he said, eyes glowing faintly red, teasing.

And he crossed the room, scooping you, and the plush crow, into his arms.

𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙗 ⋆｡ ‧˚ʚ🍎ɞ˚‧｡ ⋆

The Skyhaven penthouse was silent, save for the hum of the wind outside and the soft mechanical shhhh of the air purification system. So high up the clouds drifted right past the windows, and the golden skyline of Linkon City blinked faintly beneath your feet.

Inside, it was all warmth.

Plush carpets. Heated tiles. The faint scent of Caleb’s cologne, cedar, fuel, something electric, lingering on every blanket and every t-shirt of his you stole.

And on the cream-colored velvet couch, you lay sprawled like a doll, clutching a purple dinosaur plush he’d won you from a claw machine, one of seven from that day, actually. Your legs were propped over a pile of throw pillows, your pink robe slipping just enough to reveal the soft lace camisole Caleb had picked out for you that morning.

That was when the front door opened.

Heavy boots. Click of metal. The deep voice, smooth like gravity itself.

“I know you’re not wearing socks again.”

You pouted immediately, pulling your blanket over your toes. “They made my feet hot.”

Caleb’s voice warmed. “Did my little pipsqueak overheat again? Poor thing. C’mere.”

He was out of uniform, just in a dark grey tee and his flight pants, gloves tucked in his back pocket. His hair was still slightly windblown from the helipad. And yet, like always, he looked straight at you first.

Not the mail on the table. Not the reports from the Farspace Fleet.

Just you.

You squealed as he crossed the room in three long strides and scooped you up off the couch like you weighed nothing.

“Caleb!”

“What?” he grinned, settling you on his lap like you belonged there. (You did.) “I didn’t get my hello kiss.”

“You could’ve just sat down next to me!”

He blinked. “…But then I couldn’t baby you properly.”

You sighed dramatically but curled into him like second nature, cheek pressed to his chest.

“Gege…” You mutter out of habit.

“Mhm?”

“I didn’t clean today.”

“Good,” he said without hesitation. “What did I say about that?”

You mumbled into his shirt. “That cleaning is not your job anymore.”

“Exactly.” He ran his gloved fingers gently along your spine, slow and indulgent. “You’re cute to be mopping floors. What if you slipped?”

“You’ve got drones for that…”

“And they’re happy to do it. So why’s my pipsqueak crawling around on the floor like a maid, huh?” He kissed your temple. “You’re supposed to be pampered.”

You sighed again, the kind of sigh that only ever came when you were completely, utterly spoiled.

“…I was gonna cook for you.”

He paused. “Did you touch the stove?”

“…No?”

“Good. You’d probably burn your pretty fingers.”

You gasped, swatting at him. “I made you lunch last week!”

He caught your wrist easily and kissed the back of your hand. “And it was adorable. Still had rice stuck to your cheek after.”

You groaned and buried your face in his neck, already melting as he chuckled.

Then—he shifted, standing with you still in his arms.

“Caleb—!”

“Dinner’s being delivered. I already ordered. You’re having the little custard thing you like for dessert.”

You blinked. “…The peach blossom tart?”

He kissed your cheek. “Mhm.”

“You do love me.”

He smirked. “I married you, didn’t I?”

Later that evening…

You were laying across his lap in the penthouse lounge, nibbling on a fruit skewer while Caleb scrolled through your shared calendar on his tablet.

“…Did you really block off next week as ‘Princess Downtime’?” you asked between bites.

“Yes.”

“You didn’t even write what it was.”

He looked at you, deadpan. “You don’t need a reason. You’re my pipsqueak. If I want to spend three days dressing you up in new outfits and feeding you strawberries while you lounge in my arms, I will.”

You flushed.

“…You’re over the top.”

“You married me anyway.”

You leaned in, kissing his cheek, then whispered: “Only ‘cause I wanted your last name.”

He laughed. Then—casually—

“…Want me to change the law so I’m the only one who can have it?”

“CALEB—!”

[starpeachjelly]

Kindred Spirits ₊˚⊹⋆

Prologue part 1

prologue part 2

summary: Love and deepspace, a game that you played in your past life. As for your current life? You're living in none other than Linkon city, a city from the aforementioned game.

warnings: Brief mentions of death.

word count: 1.2k

author's note: Officially making this a full fledged fanfic! I'm still super nervous about sharing my writing, but hopefully i'll get less anxious as time goes on. Not beta read sorry for any spelling mistakes. <3

You're eleven when the chronorift catastrophe happens. On that same day you get the memories of your old life back. It's an emotional roller coaster. The grief of your own death. The excitement and thrill of being in the game you had loved so much. The dread of realizing you'll have to experience being a teenager all over again.

It takes a while for you to calm down, but when you do, you decide on an important decision. You are going to live a normal life. You do *not* want to get in the way of what fate has planned for the characters of this world. Of course you would have loved to meet them, but you love being alive more.

Your normal life falls apart less than a week later.

She looks just like how you created her, only younger. Caleb and Josephine are standing right beside her. You stare in silence, too stunned to speak. You don't know what to do, your mind and heart are racing. You think about excusing yourself, but before you can speak your mother tells you to go play with the new neighbours. She's already ushering you out the door, not even giving you the chance to object.

The way she looks at you leaves you feeling uneasy. It's as if she knows your thoughts. You half expect her to tell you that you don't belong. Instead she greets you with a wide grin as she tells you her name.

Caleb introduces himself next. You know how much he's suffered, yet you wouldn't be able to tell based on the warmth his smile radiates.

You introduce yourself next, silently hoping you don't look as nervous as you feel. But the second you say your name, she grabs your hand and drags you to go play with Caleb following close behind.

After that day you try to avoid them both as best you can, still determined to keep your distance as to not affect the story this world has planned for her. But no matter how hard you try she always seems to find her way back to you.

You nearly jump out of your skin when you hear her call your name from across the street. You watch as her hand slips out of Caleb's to reach for yours instead, asking if you want to walk to school together. You instinctively glance at Caleb who's wearing the same warm smile from your first meeting. However, you're not oblivious to the subtle annoyance in his eyes.

You're about to politely decline her offer, looking back at her with her wide hopeful eyes and bright smile… You end up walking to school together.

Lunch rolls around and she's quick to sit next to you even though you're sitting with your friends. You're all older than her by a few years, yet she doesn't seem out of place. Her confidence is admirable, endearing even. But you're still worried about how she seems to be growing so fond of you so quickly. At least this time Caleb is busy with his own friends, which means you don't have to be subjected to any more jealous staring.

When school ends a small body wraps its arms around one of yours the moment you step foot outside the building. You look down to see her once again staring up at you with her big ol' eyes. The same eyes you remember spending an embarrassing amount of time customizing. She's asking you to come back home with her to help her on her homework.

Before you can answer a sudden chill runs down your spine. You don't even need to turn your gaze to know who's staring at you. You try to tell her that Caleb should help her instead. After all he is her best friend, and you two still don't know each other very well. (She doesn't know you well. But you know everything about her thanks to your love of a 3D dating sim.) Your suggestion falls on deaf ears. There's nothing you can do as she drags you home with surprising strength for an eight year old.

The next day you try leaving for school early. She manages to catch up to you before you're even a block away from your home.

You make sure to sit between two friends during lunch. Your butt barely has time to hit your seat before one of them gets invited to sit with her crush, leaving an empty seat behind. The spot immediately gets filled by a tinier body.

School ends, you hide in the bathroom until you're sure the majority of the students have left. You creek open the door and peer into the hallway, all you see are few teachers and a couple students. There's no sign of her. Slowly, hesitantly, you make your way to your locker. For once you've successfully managed to avoid her. A wave of relief washes over you as you put in your locker combination and swing open the door.

You grab your gym clothes, lunch bag, homework… One good thing about gaining your memory back is that elementary schoolwork is a breeze. Your heart drops to your ass when you close the door to reveal her waving at you from down the hall.

The possibility of her stalking you crosses your mind after the third week of her showing up wherever you are. Unfortunately the probabilities of an eight year old stalking you is incredibly low. It's also hard to believe she would do something so sinister when seems so innocent and harmless.

Every time you look at her your heart aches. Partly in fear of not knowing what's going to happen if she keeps clinging to you like this. But also because you keep thinking of everything she's gone through, and all the hardships she still has yet to face.

Eventually, when weeks turn into months, you come to accept the fact that no matter how hard you try you won't be able to avoid her. Worry and paranoia still cling to you. It's hard not to feel anxious when you don't know how your unexpected presence will impact the story.

Despite your apprehension you find yourself enjoying the time you spend with her. It's as if you're kindred spirits. When she laughs you can't help be laugh as well. When she cries you feel your heart ache. Everything she feels, you feel too.

On one random night you find yourself mourning your previous life. Sure your past life hadn't been perfect, but that doesn't stop you from missing those you were close with. You wonder how they're doing, if they miss you as much as you miss them. Yes, you love your new family and friends. Even so, there's a sense of loneliness that has weighed heavy on your heart ever since you regained your memories.

The next day you're caught off guard when she pulls you into an unexpected hug on your walk to school. When you look at her you see the glint of unshed tears in her eyes. She doesn't say anything. Unspoken words hang between the two of you. It slowly dawns on you. As she holds you tight, you realize now that she also feels what you feel.

tag list: @chocochip-gaia , @plzdonutpercieveme

[cherry-burst]

Caleb x MC “Beach Day”

Tags: Fluffy/Smut 18+ mdni | New Relationship | Grinding | First Time Fingering | First Time Hand job | WC: 4010 Love and Deepspace

The summer air warmed her skin the second she left her apartment. The beep of a car caught her attention and she turned to look, her hand shielding her eyes from the sun. 

Caleb waved from the driver seat, stuck behind several cars in traffic. She smiled and rushed over to the vehicle and hopped in before the light turned green.

The AC in the car cut through the thick haze of humidity that was already dampening her brow. 

As they headed to the beach, Caleb glanced over with each item she showed him. A couple of water bottles for each of them, his favorite sour candy, her favorite chocolate, fruit snacks, a bag of chips they both like and some cookies.

Caleb waved to the back seat of his car indicating the cooler he'd brought. He declared it filled with sandwiches he made for their lunch picnic and a few different sodas because, secretly, he wasn't sure what her favorites were anymore.

She adjusted the strap of her bathing suit top and pointed out the window as the ocean came into view. The undulating blue water sparkled invitingly against an equally blue sky.

Sand flew behind them as they ran to the beach, cooler and bags in hand. The two of them found a perfect spot to settle. There was a clear patch where seaweed hadn't washed up that was also a good distance away from other beachgoers.

Caleb tossed his shirt onto the towel she'd laid out for him and reached out his hand to invite her to go with him. Forsaking her cover-up and sandals, she grabbed his hand with a big smile and they rushed off to the ocean before them. 

Despite the warm air, the water was cool against her skin. It was easy to wade through the lapping waves with Caleb pulling her forward. They walked until they could sink down into the refreshing waters and enjoy a swim. 

Caleb went under first, wetting his black hair. He re-emerged, shaking his hair out and wiping water from his eyes. She laughed as the droplets splashed on her face. She dipped down too, the ocean water muffling the sound of wind rushing past and beachgoer's chatter. She stayed in the short infinity, floating weightlessly momentarily before coming back up for air. 

Caleb stepped forward and circled his arm around her waist. Her toes sunk into the sand as he pulled her forward.

“Hi,” She smiled up at her new boyfriend.

“Hi,” He greeted her back, a large smile playing on his face.

Despite their relationship being so new, it felt like they'd been together forever. The first few weeks we're sort of awkward, getting used to each other's company in a new way. They both gave the relationship the grace they knew it needed to bloom and grow and now, as they stood toe to toe in the shallows of the sea, they were finally in sync. 

Sunlight reflected off the surface of the water onto Caleb's face. A look of pure love enveloped his features as he bent his neck down to press his head against hers. Water droplets spilled down her face as her arms went up to encircle his neck.

When she realized they were about to kiss a giggle past her lips. It wasn't a nervous giggle. Instead, it was an excited one. A giggle that reflects how giddy her heart was in his presence. Caleb let out a small chuckle and rubbed his forehead against hers. 

“Did we establish if PDA was okay?” He asked, his nose rubbing against the tip of hers.. 

The waves kept her body afloat, picking her up off the sand and then gently bringing her back down again.

“Nooope,” She smiled, her cheeks heating from both the sun’s rays and her proximity to an impending kiss. “But we can establish it now.”

“Hm,” Caleb pretended to think. His fingers brushed her wet hair off her shoulder. He kissed the apex of her shoulder and then looked up innocently. “Is it safe to say, kissing in public is okay?”

Her heart happily kicked into gear. “Um,” She pretended to think, her eyes drifting off to watch a flying seagull dip towards the beach and catch food mid-air that someone tossed at it. “I think it's safe to say, yes”

“How dare you keep me in suspense” Caleb teased, his face moving closer to hers once again. He angled himself to the right, his violet eyes holding her gaze. “How should I punish you?”

Water lapped all around them, the flow of the ocean moving them to and fro from where they started. 

She hugged her arms around his neck closer, bringing his chest flesh with hers. The water, heat, and sweat made his skin feel sticky against hers. 

“You holding off is punishment enough.” 

He gave her a wicked smile “That's what I like to hear.” 

His lips, warm from the sun's heat, gently pressed against hers. Her eyelids slid closed as she drank in the sensation. She tried to commit it to memory, like Caleb always did, every piece of information she could about their kiss. The exact placement of his hands on her hips, the sound of the seagulls calling out, the rush of the ocean waves as they backed away from land, and the thump in her chest that just his proximity seemed to ignite. 

His fingers sunk into her flesh, his tongue dipped past her lips, and his wet hair tickled her face. Her legs lifted from the seafloor and wrapped around his waist. Caleb held her close in an embrace, his lips leaving hers only to change angles and kiss her anew.

The kiss lasted a while, before others began invading their space. They opted to regroup later, but for now, they had a beach day to enjoy. They swam in the ocean, dug around the sand to see who could find the coolest seashells, and bought ice pops from the bike vendor that was passing by. 

The popsicle juice dripped down her chin and landed on her bathing suit top as they lounged on the beach. The towel she lounged on was sandy thanks to the wind, but she paid it no mind as she listened to Caleb chat with a passerby about recent whale sightings in the area. He seemed to attract people anywhere they went. 

“They usually don't come this close,” Caleb said to her as the passerby left. 

“Maybe the whales had to change their migration route for some reason.” She added, licking juice from the popsicle stick before it dripped on her again.

When their sandwiches were eaten, and their bodies sufficiently exhausted from the sun, the two packed up to leave.

Caleb's car would be full of sand for the next week despite their efforts to brush it off their shoes before entering. He smiled anyway and happily tapped his hand on the wheel to the music on the radio.

She invited him up to her apartment to wash off and stay for dinner. Caleb readily agreed to the change in plans of his day and rattled off some dinner ideas as they rode the elevator to the 5th floor. 

They entered her apartment and emptied their pockets full of seashells into the bowl where she usually put her keys. The air conditioner had done its job while they were away, making her sigh in relief from the hot air her body had grown accustomed to. As they kicked off their shoes, she brushed the sand off Caleb's back. 

“Thanks,” He smiled at her, then quickly frowned “You've got sand all over your face and neck.”

He gently brushed his hands over her skin, making her shiver despite being warm to the core from the weather. Sure enough, granules sprinkled her carpet. 

“We should shower.” She said, pulling Caleb's cooler into her kitchen to store the leftover drinks in the fridge.

“‘We’ should?” He asked, a teasing tone lacing his voice.

She eyed him over the refrigerator door and playfully rolled her eyes. “I have to watch what I say around you now and how I say it?”

He let out a light laugh and rested his elbow on top of the fridge door. He watched her place the sodas in a row on the shelf. “You even have sand in your hair. I'll bet we'll be digging sand out of our belly buttons for a week.”

She turned the AC down to make it cooler in her apartment while Caleb plopped onto the couch. He brought his arm up to rest on the back of the couch and reclined “Ah, this is nice.” He said, closing his eyes. 

As she moved to the living room, she drank him in. His hair was messy from the salt water, drying this way and that. His cheeks and nose were tinged pink despite all the reapplications of sunscreen she insisted they do. He looked tired around the eyes, yet his face held the smallest hint of a smile. Caleb was content. 

A smile grew of her own and she slid onto his lap facing him. “Ooh, yes this is nice.” She teased. 

Caleb's eyes flew open in surprise before his body reacted by pulling her in for a hug. 

“I can't let my guard down around you, it seems.” His brows went up at his comment.

She hummed, a single finger tracing his sunkissed neck “Seems not. It isn't smart.”

“Oh? It isn't?” He questioned, his hand coming up to grab her wrists to stop her finger from venturing lower down his abdomen. He held her arm up in front of his face.

“Anything could happen, you know.” She insisted, adjusting her position to sit comfortably in his lap.

His eyes held hers for a moment, a familiar look of wanting crossing his features before retaliation struck that he didn't have to hold back anymore. He let go of her wrist and wrapped his arms around her. 

“Anything?” His voice was quieter.

The AC unit kicked in, blowing freshly cooled air into the space. The sun, which was now preparing to set, shone its spectacular rays through the living room window and spilled its light over the couple. 

“Even a meteor could crash down any minute,” She said, unable to help herself from cutting the tension. Despite their constant dates and hanging out, she still wasn't used to this more intimate side of Caleb.

He seemed to understand, smiling at her words and leaning back against the couch. “I see. That would be unfortunate.”

She felt the loss of closeness like a pang in her chest. She moved forward again, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly.

Caleb's brows rose, but he accepted the closeness. He took his chances tracing his fingertips over the curve of her jaw, the slope of her nose, and the edge of her lips. 

Kissing in private felt more heavy than in public. It had more implications, like the fact that they were alone and there would be no one to disturb them anytime soon. No one could be witnessing their intimacy that they'd need to stop for. It was just them, and the unshared moments that stretched ahead that were a blank slate. Possibility hung in the air as they gazed at one another. 

She swallowed the pooling saliva in her mouth and licked her lips. “Well, I can tell you what I'm down for. Out of anything.”

She wanted to pat herself on the back for being brave, especially when a flicker or something haughty flashed over Caleb's features. Did he like it when she took the initiative? She decided yes when his gaze dropped to her lips and he sighed.

“Tell me then. Don't keep me waiting.” His pupils dilated as he gazed at her.

She could tell his words were meant to be playful, but the seriousness of how he said them fueled her advances.

She was sure she was as red as a lobster, and it had nothing to do with her onsetting sunkissed glow. 

“This?” She said, kicking herself internally for it sounding like a question instead of a sultry exclamation. She decided to move anyway, closing the distance between them and kissing Caleb on his parted lips.

He breathed into the kiss as if giving it life. His hand was in her air-dried hair, while the other moved to her lower back. 

Her tongue touched his and they both took a sharp inhale. Would this ever become normal? Or had they both been pent up for so long that every touch between them would feel this electric?

His lips moved from hers, kissing along her jawline to her ear. 

“You taste…” His voice was a low whisper, his breath tickling her lobe causing chilled bumps to race down her arm. “Salty, like the ocean.”

Her heart galloped away in her chest. His lips trailed over her neck, nipping and kissing her sensitive spots. 

“And sandy?” Her voice was a sultry groan that she hadn't anticipated.

He huffed a laugh against the curve of her neck “Very,” His tongue teased her skin. “...but I don't mind.” 

She let her voice be heard as his kiss trailed to her bathing suit strap then lower to her collar bone.

His body's reaction was obvious where she was seated. He was quickly growing more turned on with each bated breath she released. She couldn't tell if she was bold, or if she was pretending to be, but she rocked her hips once nonetheless to see his reaction.

A groan caught in the back of Caleb's throat and he caught his breath where his lips landed on her cleavage. 

He pulled back, his half-lidded eyes locking with hers. “Do that again.” He asked, his hands sliding down her back to brace her. 

She did it again as their lips collided once more. Caleb used his hands on her ass to rock her hips forward into his lap. She adjusted herself for optimum pleasure, making sure his length was hitting her in the right spot, then rocking again.

Caleb moaned into the kiss, his whole body curving forward into hers. He braced his feet on her floor and used his balance to grind back up into her.

Sweat broke out on her brow anew. Their kiss was a frenzy of passion while they rubbed themselves on one another for pleasure. 

The shower would be delayed. 

As the sunset, her automatic lamps clicked on, bathing the couple in a warm glow. 

Caleb changed their positions, moving her down to lay on the couch while he fit himself between her legs. He kissed her neck and ear, rubbing his hard length against her clothed core. 

She wrapped her legs around his waist, rubbing herself shamelessly on his hardness. It felt good, amazing even. She wondered if he could feel how wet she was as her bathing suit bottoms slid easily now against her slick center. 

Caleb's moans were everything to her. It skyrocketed the experience by tenfold and made her feel dizzy with lust. 

She felt braveness again as she reached down and palmed him through his bathing suit trunks. The arms he was using to hold himself up gave out and he rested on her chest.

“Please,” he hissed out, rocking his hips into her palm. “Hhh, yes” His sultry tone was new to her. She'd never heard him sound so pleasure drunk. 

“Say my name..” She whispered, genuinely wanting to know what her name sounded like on his lips when his voice was so lustful.

Caleb moaned her name, his hips eagerly bucking into her palm. He said her name again, and again.

He eased up, his lips coming to claim hers in an eager kiss. His hand slid from her face to her chest, then lower. 

“Can I…?” His palm moved down her stomach giving her massive butterflies. 

“Yes.” She breathed out, hands trembling from anticipation. 

His large hand slid down, cupping her pussy over her shorts. He rubbed as she rocked into his palm, making her lose all focus.

“Oh my god,” she moaned, her body arching and flexing with this new intimate touch.

“Your turn,” He said, his lips finding her neck again. He whispered as his palm rubbed between her legs “Say my name,”

She groaned, her legs kicking out. Her full body blushed before she said “Caleb,”

He let out a harsh breath. 

“Again, again,” he demanded, “Please.”

“Caleb,” She moaned.

He stopped his rubbing, then his fingers dipped down the front of her shorts and bathing suit bottoms. 

“Caleb!” She gasped when his fingers brushed against her clit.

They trailed down the center of her pussy until they met their goal. 

“You're so wet,” He said, as if he was talking to himself. 

“Caleb,” she moaned his name again, this time louder. 

“I want to touch you here so badly,” He admitted, dipping a single finger inside her. He rubbed his hard cock against her thigh. 

“If feels.. Mmm, good," She admitted.

“Where does it feel the best?” He asked, moving his finger in and out, pressing down then up-.

“There!” She moaned. “Up, there, right there”

Caleb sighed, looking down at her. “Look at me,” his voice was soft and gentle. “Look at me, please.”

She peeled open her eyes and locked gazes with him. She'd never seen him so disheveled. She knew he'd never seen her in this state either. 

His finger brushed up against that spot again, and she moaned. Her eyes started to close but Caleb called out her name. “Keep your eyes on mine while I finger you” He spoke as if he couldn't believe his own words. “Just, keep looking at me. Tell me how you like it.”

She nodded, her hands coming up to grip his shoulders. His finger felt incredible against her g spot. Her legs squirmed with pleasure with each pump of his finger.

She kept her eyes on him, her stomach sinking like she was falling from great heights. 

Caleb studied her face, her reactions, and her body language as he fingered her. She was gasping and moaning under his touch.

“Now, how about here?” His wet fingers receded and moved up to circle her clit. 

She arched into the touch, her eyes closing against their will.

“Keep looking at me,” He asked, his voice laced with a plea. 

“Sorry, sorry.” she looked him in the eye again. “Yes, feels so so good, Caleb. Don't stop.”

A hint of amusement washed over his features. “Don't stop?” Realization glittered in his eyes. “…Do you want me to make you cum?” 

His voice alone sent her stomach into a flutter. She nodded, his cheeks burning red. “Yes,”

His slick fingers rubbed her clit up and down, side to side, circles to the right, and left. “How do you like it?” He asked breathlessly.

She almost laughed. Everything he did felt amazing, she couldn’t possibly decide. “All of it.” She squeezed his shoulders. “Anything. How you're doing it right now,” 

Her hips lifted from the couch as the pressure on her clit increased. 

“You don't have to say anything else when you cum. Just say my name. Okay?” Caleb's voice was like a warm embrace, a safe space amongst the crackling fireworks in her mind.

“Yes yes, okay-” Her words were rushed out.

She breathed heavily, her hands fisting his white T-shirt, pulling and pushing as her mind spiraled into ecstasy. 

Caleb leaned in, his eyes holding hers, looking from her left eye to her right eye. 

“Spread your legs a little more, okay? You're clamping down, it's hard to maneuver.” His free hand pulled at her chin to angle her face to him.

She gripped the fabric of his shirt and did as he asked, easing her legs wider. Her thighs strained, wishing to clamp shut with the mounting pleasure. 

“Oh, please don't stop don't stop don'tstopdon'tstop.”

“I won't” He reassured her. 

His fingers swirled in a tantalizing circle with quick succession around her sensitive clit. She bucked and rocked faster than before, her eyes breaking contact with him for short moments before she re-engaged with his gaze.

“Mhm, Caleb!” She didn’t recognize her own needy voice as the swinging pendulum snapped and pleasure raced through her veins.

“That's it,” He encouraged as her body throbbed in time with her pleasure.

“Caleb, Caleb, Caleb..!” Her eyes were glued to his as he witnessed her reaction.

Soon, she slumped back to the couch, her body easing away from his touch. She sucked in air, heart hammering away against her rib cage.

Caleb hummed, his brows pressing together in concentration still. 

“Did that feel good?” He asked, his forehead pressing into hers.

“Yes…” She huffed, “Yes it did.”

He smiled, cupping her cheeks in his hand and holding himself up by his elbows. “Then I want to make you feel like that all the time.”

Happiness flashed over his face before he leaned in and kissed her once more. A slow, eager kiss that stole the breath from her lungs.

She pulled back, her fingers running through his salty hair. “I want to return the favor…” Her hand slid down his chest to his stomach. Caleb let out a low gasp. “May I?” She tugged at his swim trunks' tie.

“I won't last...” He admitted a bit bashfully. His eyes searched her face to gauge her reaction.

“It's okay. But you deserve some relief.” Her fingers snuck down his waistband and her stomach flipped anew. His skin was smooth here, soft, and warm. She moved further and felt the base, hard and straining. 

He rocked his hips into her hand, his gaze dropping down to watch her actions.

“Eyes up here,” She commanded. It was her turn to watch him.

Caleb’s gaze dragged up to her face again. He relaxed to one side of the couch and she scooted over to where they were almost side by side. 

She took him in hand, but Caleb did all the work. He rutted himself into her fist, thrusting eagerly as he pressed his forehead against hers.

His breath came rapidly, his movements sloppy yet eager. His hand slid down her back as he anchored himself to her. 

His cock was already leaking, impossibly hard, and swollen, eager for relief. He’d worked himself up when he was grinding on her. So much so that he’d been teetering on the edge since the beginning. 

He moaned as he fucked into her hand. She tried to match his pace, jerking him off with as much enthusiasm as he was showing. His pleasure stricken face made him look even more handsome as their eyes locked, making the moment even more intimate. 

He was right, he didn't last long. Without being told, her name was falling from his lips as cum soaked the front of his shorts. He throbbed in her hand, his hips stilling as he panted. The look of euphoria on his face would be ingrained in her mind forever.

She rubbed him after he stilled, coaxing out every last drop until he placed his hand on her arm to silently let her know he was spent. 

He collapsed to the couch, his eyes closing and his chest heaving. His large arms wrapped around her smaller frame and he hugged her to his broad chest. His heart raced against her cheek as she snuggled against him. She relished in his warmth when he tightened his arms round her. 

“Maybe now we can take that shower together.” She said, kissing his red cheeks and nose.

He huffed out a laugh. “Deal.” His speech was slowed as he recovered from the high. “But don't be hoggin’ all the hot water, got it?”

She laughed with a smile of pure joy on her face. It was like nothing had changed between them, yet everything had. 

[written-in-flowers]

Title: Boiling Pot

Pairing: Caleb Sykes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2k

Genre: Smut, slight angst

Summary: After your sister shoots James Sykes and runs off, you're forced to direct your husband's angry eyes elsewhere.

Tags: Implied/referenced domestic violence, dub-con(kind of? just in case), martial sex, established relationship, quick sex, p in v penetration, implied/referenced blackmail, creampie, slight breeding kink (you KNOW he has one),

Prequel

*****

The gunshots woke you up first. One large blast pulled you right out of your dreams, and another made you bolt upright. Caleb absent your bed, you'd woken up to an empty house. A hazy confusion joined the fright in your chest when a third rang out. The thought of bandits or Caleb outside made your heart jump at yet another shot. You immediately pulled on your house coat, and rushed over to the frosty window.

In the distance, you caught sight of Lucy's house less than a half mile away. A small square on the vast blanket of snow, you watched a figure draped in black rush outside while more gunshots fired. A gasp caught in your throat when you recognized the long brown braid. Lucy. You watched, frozen by shock, as she hopped into a wagon and drove off. James’s horse ran past your house into the forest beyond, frightened by the commotion. You followed the wagon with your eyes, stunned by her courage.

Then, your sister was gone.

She’d told you she planned on leaving him. She said she couldn’t take it anymore, and needed to leave. You’d said you’d go with her, but she insisted you stay behind. This was her fight, not yours. When you argued that his family would likely come for you too, Lucy had shaken her head.

‘No, they won’t touch you. Caleb won’t let them.’

Yes, but nothing stopped Caleb from touching you.

You stayed by the window, the winter chill seeping through the wooden floor and walls. However, you barely felt it as the realization hit you. The Sykes clan looked after their own regardless of that person’s faults. They’ll see what Lucy did and run off after her. You knew Junior would hunt her to the ends of the earth just to ring her neck. Whether alive or dead, they’d do it. Lucy said she'd be travelling to Bannon, a small town nearby, and to not follow her. You told her it wasn't smart to travel with a baby as young as her son; you said she'd need someone to help her. You said there must be another way to escape James and his family, but she’d disagreed. Now, she’d be on the run with an infant. Lucy was no fool. She’d outsmart those Sykes brothers. You tried keeping this bit of comfort as you walked back into your one-room house.

Anxiety burrowed deep into your stomach. It numbed your toes, and made your hands shake. You trembled, pulling on layers of clothes to warm you, and kept messing up your boot buttons. Visions of an angry Caleb bursting through the door came to you. He might always get along with his father, but that was still his kin. You know if any Sykes would hurt Lucy, it'd be him. While Lucy was no coward, she was no match for Caleb, especially when enraged. If he thinks you know something, nobody is stopping him from hurting you instead.

It’d taken several tries to light the fireplace and stove, your hands unable to keep the match straight. You started on breakfast to keep it from festering in your head, but it creeped towards you. In the back of your head, you kept picturing Caleb’s strong hands slapping your cheek or, worse, his belt stinging your back. You didn't care how many times he claimed to love you, you knew people in love didn't hurt each other.

Your husband will likely question you on his own, which equally frightened you. Placing round biscuits in a basket, you pictured his rough hand going across your face again. A wrong answer would end in a slap.

The horses nearby made you nearly drop the skillet of eggs. You could hear voices far off, and knew somebody found James in the house. Cautiously, you peeked behind a curtain to see a group of men approaching the door. The tallest and largest of them stood near the doorway, hands on his hips as he shook his head. Junior Sykes, James’s eldest son. You recognized him by his large, imposing figure and confident walk. You saw him gesture to the men nearby, and then all went to the door. Soon, they were hauling a limp body into a wagon. Had she killed him? You hoped not. It’ll only end up being worse for her. Right as you thought they’d leave, a lone figure stood watching them go. A gasp caught in your throat, and you immediately moved away from the window. Your heart hammered in your chest, and the urge to flee hit you.

‘’He’s your husband. He won’t hurt you if you’re honest with him.’

You tried comforting yourself with this information. Every tender moment Caleb showed you filled your head. The man in those moments wouldn’t dream of putting a hand to you. But, when his anger took hold of him, a much more wicked man turned up. The footsteps on your porch made your heart jump into your throat. You rushed over to the stove, dumping bacon onto a plate to look busy.

“Good morning, my lovely wife.”

His voice filled the small house. It struck fear right into your chest. You could feel him taking up space behind you. His deep drawl vibrated down to your core, sitting and festering like a wound. The phrase wasn't said in his usual loving way, with a gentle caress and a kiss behind it. It was sarcastic, and mean. His anger isn't quite high yet. There was a possibility to cool it back down. You turned around to see him standing two feet away, long overcoat covering his skinny frame and greasy golden hair under his hat.

Caleb Sykes, the youngest of James’s sons, had his eye on you since your father began working the Sykes’ land eight years ago. You never shook off the feeling of his eyes on you whenever you walked past him. He'd occasionally corner you in town or near your house, flirting and even giving you gifts. Every day he asked you to marry him. No matter the circumstance or conversation, he'd slip in the question. You always said no. Your father didn't approve and your sister cautioned you against it. Caleb only brought trouble.

When your father died, Caleb took a page out of his father's own book. He implied that if you didn't marry him, he'd get you kicked off the property. It wasn't as if either you or Lucy brought anything to the family. You'd lived there by their grace, and it could be taken away. Fearful of being left without a home, you reluctantly agreed. Memories of that first night alone came back to you. He'd been quite gentle and sweet, taking his time warming you before going inside. Perhaps a little bit of that innocence he liked so much might keep his anger at bay.

He put his rifle against the wall and removed his black hat, eyes locked on you when he saw you standing by the table.

“Morning, honey,” you turned to smile at him, putting dishes on the table. “I made your favorite. I thought you'd be famished after your ride.”

“That can wait,” he said, shrugging off his coat. This meant he didn't intend on going back to the main house right away. Another bad sign. “Where did Lucy go?” He began rolling up his sleeves, “And don't think about lying to me.”

“I don't know,” you gulped. “I didn't even know she'd left.”

“You ain't deaf, woman,” he said, fixing the sleeves at his elbows. “You heard the gunshots. I heard them and we were farther out. So, Imma ask you again: where did Lucy go?”

A fire slowly started kindling within his pale eyes. You forced yourself to keep acting natural. “You can't be serious,” you scoffed. “Lucy ain't never shot anyone before. I don't think she'd-”

“-I ain't asking you again,” he said, “Where'd she go?”

“I don't know,” you stammered. “She never told me anything about leaving. Not a word, not a word.”

His hand moved quicker than you expected. Fingers cupped your chin and held it tightly as he forced you to look at him. Panic tightens your chest when you stare directly into his eyes. While Junior intimidated people with his size, Caleb did it with his eyes. A certain maliciousness always lingered behind them, waiting for a chance to come out. Any wrong answer might give it a reason to come out.

“You mean to tell me that the sister who loves you more than anything,” he began, “Who put herself through hell with my father for you to have a home, ran off without telling you?”

“I'm as surprised as you,” you answered, trying to steady your breathing. “I thought it was someone coming for your father. He's not well liked and you know that.”

“Bullshit,” he squeezed your jaw, and you winced in pain. “I'm asking you one more time: where did your sister go?”

“I swear I don't know…” you gingerly touched the hand touching you. “I'd never lie to you, honey. You know that.”

His hand slowly released you when he saw the truth in your eyes. An ache still pained where he'd squeezed but he'd left worse before. Like a boiling pot, if you didn't lower the heat soon, it'd rise up even faster. He remained suspicious, so you weren't out of danger yet.

“You're my husband, Caleb,” you continued, hands on his forearms. “I wouldn't dream of keeping secrets from you. I thought you trusted me.” You slightly leaned into him, never breaking eye contact. You dropped your voice and said, “Your family has been good to me…” you ran your hands to his wrists, then on his belt, “You're always good to me.”

“I am, aren't I?” he asked, one hand bringing you closer by the jaw.

“You are,” you insisted, moving until you were an inch from one another. “I'm the luckiest woman in the world to have a man like you,” you continued, hands going up to his chest. “You take such good care of me,” you nuzzled his nose with your own, “In every way a man can.”

A smirk broke the stony expression. His arms went around your waist, forehead pressing to yours. “Is that right?”

“Yes.” You touched the buttons of his vest, circling the top one first. “It's strange you bring up my sister and your father,” you said, “I had a dream about you and me.”

“Oh? What about you and me?”

“I think it was our wedding night,” you said, coming up with it on the spot, “And it was you between my thighs.” The low rumble from his chest was a good indicator. You continued, “I woke up remembering how gentle you'd been with me. You treated me like I was one of those fancy porcelain dolls.”

“With how beautiful you were, someone might have thought you were one,” he replied, arms around your waist.

“You don't have to go back right now, do you?” you asked innocently. “Can't you stay for a while?” You pecked his lips softly, beard brushing your soft chin. “I missed you this morning.”

As expected, your diversion worked. “I can spare a few minutes for you,” he said, lifting you onto the table.

You let out a giggle as he laid you down. Immediately, his hands deftly undid the front buttons of your dress. Stopping at your waist, your torso was exposed to the winter chill coming through the walls. It was only Caleb’s body keeping you warm as he kissed and felt up your sides. Rough beard grazing you in each kiss, you couldn’t help being excited by his touch. You never expected the tenderness on your wedding night and it's all he's shown since then. Heat flared between your legs as his mouth reached the tops of your breasts. He knew your body too well by now, hitting all the right spots.

You gasped softly when his hands, rough from years of work and riding, went down your thighs to lift your dress. The layers of wool rising up to your waist, only his hard body kept the cold away. Not that it mattered. Your sex throbbed the moment his groin touched you, the bulge noticeable now with so few layers left. He groaned against your skin when you grinded against him. More layers were tugged down until your bare flesh rubbed into the hard bulge in his pants. He didn't waste time sliding his hand between you, letting out a soft groan.

“You really did miss me,” he smirked, kissing your lips while his fingers circled it. “You're dripping for me.”

“Yes,” you breathed, hands gripping his shoulders as pleasure started clouding your head. “Yes, yes, yes.”

He chuckled at your answer, then rolled his thumb along the top part of your sex. The simple touch made you squirm underneath him. The small pearl hidden within pulsed as he continued circling it. You didn't know who was more distracted: you or your husband. Reaching down to his belt, you undid it with ease. He brought your lips to his again, moaning into your mouth when you finally grabbed him. Hot in your cold hand, you felt the muscle twitch in each stroke. You learned pleasuring him was equally satisfying for you. Lucy never told you what sex was like until your wedding day. All she'd said was he'd put himself inside you, it might hurt, and it'd be over quickly. She'd been wrong when it came to Caleb.

‘I want to take my time with you,’ he'd said in your ear while he undressed you.

He'd grown fully hard by the time he pushed the first inch inside. With time so limited, he didn't hesitate to start quickly. Holding your thighs apart, he stood up straight as he thrusted. You held one of his hands to your breasts while he went, the extra touch driving you to push back. A small smile went across his face when you did this, his ego stroked by it. You felt him pushing right into the center of you, that spot creating a tightness within you. Caleb knew he’d found it once you gripped his hand tighter and whined out his name. He drew just as close with his closed eyes and panting groans. The house came alive with the sounds of your moans mingling with his. This always worked on him. His anger could always be simmered with loving caresses and promises of longing. As long as he stayed deep inside you, he’d slowly forget what he'd even been upset about. The added benefit of his expertise only made you choose it more.

It ended quicker than usual. The both of you knew Junior could return any moment looking for him. You pulled him closer to you, kissing him deeply as your orgasm came. The knots inside blew like dynamite throughout your body. Caleb pushed right into it, thrusting rapidly and letting you ride it out on him. He finished in a few final thrusts, filling you each time. You'll admit you enjoyed the hot sensation it briefly gave you, and the idea of being so full of him excites you. Everyone expected you to have a child soon, so this might be the time that happens.

“So good,” he murmured, kissing your neck a few more times. “I really am a lucky man.”

“I just want to please you,” you said softly, purposefully clenching yourself around him for a low groan. “You're my husband and I want to make you happy.”

“You're doing a fine job of it,” he said. He laid a few more kisses on you before all tenderness suddenly disappeared. Trapping you underneath him, his voice lowered as he asked,

“Now…where's your sister?”

****

A/N: my first and maybe last Horizon fic. Jamie was too good in this movie so I couldn't help myself lol I hope you enjoyed this little read, I know it's not much but yeah, that's it haha

[we-keep-odd-hours]

Antique Near Dark (1987). A03 link in title.

Severen's favorite hobby is making Caleb's afterlife hell. This time he drags the others into it. (full text of story below cut)

-----------------------

April 1987

Nothing reminded Caleb of his place with these people more than a firefight.

Despite the what the deputy said on career day in junior high, the shoot-outs felt and looked too much like the movies.

It might have been frighteningly easy to adjust to the bodies, the blood, the spears of sun burning through walls and car doors, but the smell? He'd give the rural cop that much; that wasn’t in the movies. None of the movies he'd ever gone to ever prepared him for how singed gore would stop making him gag, and start making his mouth water either.

Nearly a year running with these people, and he still hadn't adjusted to these occasional close-calls they deemed part of existence. No one else was bothered, as they filed into the room for the day.

Caleb took a deep breath, letting his stiff lungs stretch. His brain had finally adjusted to being dead, and it knew better than to bother trying to breathe, but like smoking, the rare beer, and the even rarer escape to a different motel room with Mae, the reenactment of human function was grounding. Although, the nerves in his hands hadn’t figured out the whole dead thing yet; he was shaking hard enough that cleaning the standard issue that he knew Severen must have taken off of a dead policeman went from a puzzle to impossible. 

He would have known a rifle, or even a shotgun—he used to go hunting with his father, sometimes shoot rabbits on the prairie when he was bored. Of all the men in town he was one of the best shots at a distance, and he had once joined the game warden on a hunt for a rabid coyote. It was a risky move, but back then he was dumber, and more eager to be noticed, and had taken aim for the head instead of the lungs. When they had collected it, he saw that he made his mark, right through it’s eye.

But handguns? They were a foreign language. His father had a pistol, taught him to shoot it and reload it as boy, but he barely remembered, and sure enough he couldn’t aim one for shit. The men had picked up on that, even after Caleb had earned enough of their shaky trust to hold a weapon, and they always left him standing with the women—no, he was always standing with Mae who listened (usually) and stood behind Severen and Jesse. Diamondback, who never took orders she didn’t agree with, and never flinched from doing the ugly or dangerous work that kept them alive and fed, would be in direct line of fire and sun.

He tried to breathe slowly, ignore the cracking in his under-used lungs, and focus on what he was doing, and not on what had just happened.

They'd been followed; plain clothes, probably called for back up after the massacre at the truck stop. They wouldn't have even known they were surrounded if one of the officers outside hadn't fucking sneezed. Mae had been closest, her hearing not supernatural yet but definitely superhuman, and she'd reached straight through the glass of the window to pull the man inside by the head, breaking his neck in the process, fucking up her hands, and kicking off their worst gunfight in months, lasting long enough that they were dodging sun. The gang had made their escape, switched vans, drove through the rest of the day, then through the night too, and barely outran the daylight to their next hide out: a less-than-great but better-than-shit motel just south of the state line.

As soon as they had gotten inside, Mae had held her pale hands over the kitchenette sink with a wince, and Caleb watched with revulsion as glass continued to work its away out of her palms and forearms, the wounds healing as the glass cut itself back out. Repulsed or not, he kissed her palms when she held them up to assure him she was fine, only to be interrupted by Severen saying that if nobody was going to kiss his burned-to-the-bone hands then they had to ready the guns again in case they'd been trailed.

If Severen had someone around willing to kiss him, they still probably wouldn't be going near his wounds: he had it the worst, hands scorched of flesh almost entirely/ His burns eased slightly as they went higher, but they still went up both arms and part of his face. Jesse had a burned right hand from firing a round of parting shots out the van window.

Caleb didn’t bother to ask why Homer never worked with the guns; he carried one, and knew how to handle it and maintain it, but he never helped with any of the communal armory. Come to think of it, Caleb never saw the kid help with anything.

Jesse was actually sharing the couch with Homer (albeit as far as he could get from him) watching the morning news. They were both trying to catch if their kills had been broadcast yet; if the cops had an idea where they were lurking. Mae had vanished into the bathroom to wash the blood and ash out of her clothes and rinse it out of her hair.

…And Severen stayed at the table watching Caleb clean and reload the guns, offering insult-laden advice on every move he made.

At least Diamondback, her hands spared too, had been helping him. She only stopped just long enough to cross the room and take Jesse’s Colt—she reloaded it for him without taking her eyes off of the TV, and handed it back to its owner. Caleb wouldn’t have known how to open it. He’d always wanted one, his father had a Peacemaker that was strictly a family-heirloom-display-only, but Diamondback had done it so quickly he almost didn’t notice what she was doing. He’d witnessed her use it a couple of times too, seamlessly switching from a modern firearm to it in the middle of a fight.

“What’re you staring at?” Severen tried to kick him below the table, but he had learned better and was standing just out of reach, "You ain't Diamond's type, boy. An' Mae and Jess would take turns pulling our your eyes if you started lookin' elsewhere".

“NO! Not that--” Caleb, as a rule, tried not to give fuel to Severen in any form, but at the risk of him claiming that he'd caught him eyeing up their leader's partner, he told him: “Diamondback reloaded the old Colt without even looking at it.”

“Mention me?” she asked, pulling a chair out across from Severen. She draped her ‘new’ suede jacket over the back of the other chair with her trademark careless grace, and picked up the next gun—this one modern, one Caleb recognized as stolen off of a dead biker about a month earlier.

“Sorry; it was neat—what you did with the Colt,”

Diamondback smiled, glad to be acknowledged out-loud for once.

"Lots of practice," she said. She opened her mouth with a wide smile, but whatever she was going to add on, she changed her mind.

Severen smiled even wider:

“Yeah, she’s great at handling antiques; like she said she's got lots of practice, and listenin' to her mess around? Must have a magic touch," he said, before nearly falling out of his chair—Diamondback apparently kicked him under the table, and Severen laughed.

“Never got the chance myself,” Caleb said; he tried to figure out how to bring up the idea of a rifle, even if only to prove himself a better shot than they thought he was. “Where'd you learn?”

Diamondback bit down on a grin, contemplating on a serious or juvenile answer, but Severen spoke for her:

“Dunno about her, but Jesse taught me how to fire army field guns,”

Caleb didn’t like Severen giving him that smile; it usually mean he was going to be in pain—physical or mental—very shortly.

“Diamondback?”

“Yeah, Diamond,” Severen tried too, and gave the woman the same concerning expression that made him look like he had twice as many teeth: “Did Jesse teach you how to handle antique pieces or did you already know that?”

“Watch your mouth,” she said; her voice was sweet, but there was a threat of venom below it.

Caleb knew what was going on, of course—Diamondback was always a bit coy when it came to naming what era she was from, and disclosing where she learned historic firearms would help pin down a decade. Maybe it was some great secret, or she had taken part in some major historical event, or maybe everyone else already knew and were simply withholding stories from him because they could.

Well, Caleb figured he might as well push his luck; if Diamondback wouldn't give him a straight answer, maybe someone else could. Jesse had actually let him drive for a while the day before, maybe his good mood hadn’t worn out yet.

“Hey, Jesse?” Caleb set down the gun he had been working on and crossed the room to where he and Homer were busy arguing over whether heading farther south, or east would throw off any trail the cops might have.

“Hmm?"

At least he acknowledged him. It was a start.

“Did you teach Diamondback how to handle antiques?" Caleb asked with full confidence, "Or did she learn earlier?”

The older man didn’t answer him; he simply stared in immense disbelief. Caleb almost repeated the question, assuming Jesse must have heard him wrong, but Severen was laughing too loudly—

"What did you say?" their leader, his girlfriend's might-as-well-be father, nearly growled his words at him. Caleb took an involuntary step back.

“I'm sorry?” he turned from Severen to Jesse, “Severen said you taught him?”

The noise coming out of Severen morphed from vaguely human to a deranged hyena, and then to crying as he fell backwards in the chair and onto the floor. Diamondback looked down at him struggling to stand without the use of his hands, but didn’t help him.

“He—” Severen choked on a laugh, his voice barely stable enough to speak, “He didn’t teach me how to handle all the moving parts; Diamondback’s special.”

Caleb got a short reprieve; Jesse's glare was now aimed at Severen. He no longer gave a damn how Diamondback could work the Colt, or if she had been some kind of Annie Oakley as a human, only that whatever was going on stop. Severen was repeating his comments to himself, laughing all the more for it: "Movin' parts hadn't been worked for a looong time..."

Diamondback made an attempt to step on him, but he wormed out of the way.

“What’re you talking about?” Caleb asked, “There’s not much to move, not on something that old?” if Severen knew that little about the older guns, it would've been great to see him try and fail at something for once.

He heard Jesse say something behind him, but watching Severen struggle to stand up, without his hands still, and while evading Diamondback trying to step on him like a wayward spider, was too amusing to ignore.

Severen gave up, and settled for leaning back on his partially healed arms, just out of the woman's reach, and after a fresh peal of laughter. He replied:

“And that’s why she’s the only one allowed to touch it, and only on special occasions.”

Jesse rose from the sofa, looking deadly, but Diamondback spoke first:

“Alright—” she had that venom forward now, but was still cut off by Severen crying even louder. “Alright, I MEAN IT...that’s enough,” her anger faded a moment and she smiled that girlish, dangerous grin of hers right over his shoulder that made Caleb’s blood run cold, “Besides, ain’t nothin’ wrong with a nice antique,” she purred, her drawl like honey, “I like somethin’ that’s got experience, and knows what it’s doing...even the ones prone to trouble…”

Homer groaned, his hands pressed over his ears.

"God, you keep making it worse."

“Oh—OH—” Severen cackled, “I got somethin'! You might like something older, but he likes newer ones: faster to load, better grip, and they do most of the hard work for you. Right, Jess?”

“Severen, you keep talkin’ like that you’re not gonna have any pieces of your own anymore.”

Caleb looked between the two men; Jesse wasn’t joking around, and Severen stopped finding whatever it was so funny. Diamondback was now the one barely holding herself together, on the brink of laughter with tears welling in her eyes.

“Wait, if Severen’s losing the .35 can I have it?” he asked. Severen's personal gun was a handsome vintage, pearl handled; although not nearly as old as the Colt.

Jesse shrugged, with a mean smile.

“Give him the gun and the good holster,” he said, and returned to his seat in front of the TV; the newscaster reporting ominously that a missing police van had been found, still smoldering at the bottom of the canyon. “We’ll be fine—they’ll be searching farther up the highway until they ID the body from the truck. Should take them the day for that, at least.”

“How’d you figure that?” Caleb took the holster from Severen’s sticky, still half-burned hand first.

If Jesse answered, no one heard it.

Severen didn’t give up the pistol; Caleb tried to grab at it when Severen’s hold on it loosened, but Severen caught his hand and squeezed it hard. Bones crunched and immediately started to crackle as they healed, before Caleb even had time to curse. His common sense hadn't improved much since turning, and soon he was on the ground too, trying to pry the gun from Severen's hands.

“You've gotta be fucking-- HEY!--Knock it off, both of you.” Diamondback managed to sound disappointed, as if she could have ever expected anything better. “Can’t believe you two, acting like little boys,” she dug both hands in Severen’s collar and dragged him back across the floor. She picked up his gun in the process and handed it over to Caleb. “Anyway,” she continued, “Jess has the experience, that’s how he figures,” she zipped the duffle they used for the guns closed again, and winked.

A fleeting thought, a brief connection to an earlier line in the conversation almost struck Caleb, but Mae’s voice rang over any higher function he had:

“What happened?” she was addressing Jesse, turning between him, the boys on the floor, and a very smug looking Diamondback. “What did I miss?”

“Your boyfriend’s a dumbass,” Severen offered, with a renewed grin, “Nothin’ else.”

“Severen was giving him a hard time,” Diamondback said. She might have even been sympathetic.

“Not as hard of a time as you give to the antiq—”

“Boy, he ain’t kiddin’,” she cut him off, the bite back in her tone, “I’ll have Jess leave your pieces out on the road. You can find out if they’ll grow back.”

Mae winced.

“Never mind.... I don’t think I want to know,” she said.

“Okay, I would like to know?” Caleb stumbled up, wiping his hands against his already-ruined pants clean of Severen’s blood, “What the hell just happened?”

Mae smiled kindly, and patted him softly on the shoulder:

"You're cute."

Full credit goes to @babieswrld, this entire thing came from a joke I said Severen would pitch and spiraled from there.

[karespocketboyfriends]

𝙳𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚈𝚘𝚞

Caleb x Faye (OC)

Warnings -> 18+ NSFW (oral fem receiving, p-in-v, vanilla)

An original fan-fiction for Love and Deepspace. I appreciate reblogs but reposting to Tumblr or any other site is not okay with me.

𝓞𝓵𝓭 𝓓𝓪𝔂𝓼

————

I always told myself that I'd never do a long-distance relationship. As someone who grew up watching my mother go from one failed relationship to the next, I'm more than aware of how much work goes into trying to keep a normal one alive. Dating someone I would only be able to see for a short time every few months? That's just heartbreak waiting to happen.

Then high school happened. I befriended the kids next door who I saw often but never really spoke to. I developed a crush, fell in love, and in the months between graduation and the start of our first collage year, I knew that even though Caleb would be going all the way to Skyhaven, I loved him too much to give up. It's been hard, but we've made it work.

And when he comes home for a visit, I fall in love all over again. Cheesy and cliché, but true.

I've barely spoken all night, opting for listening to everyone else talk instead. It's nothing out of the ordinary for me; I've always been the weird kid with a freaky Evol that everyone avoids. It wasn't until McKenna starting dragging me along with her and Caleb that my presence was actually accepted instead of just tolerated. Still, I had no desire to be friends with people who treated me like an outcast. I still don't.

"You okay?" Caleb asks, tilting his head back against my chest to look up at me.

He's sitting in front of me on the grass, his body between my legs as he leans against me and the log I'm sitting on. My arms are loosely wrapped around his shoulders, one of his hands resting on my knee, thumb drawing small circles over my ripped jeans.

I nod and tilt my head down a little, speaking quietly against his ear. "I'm fine."

He and I both know I avoid get togethers like the plague, but considering how little time we get to spend together in person now a days, I'll take every opportunity to be with him. Even if it means sitting in the backyard of an old peer from high school while a group of fifteen to twenty collage kids reminisce about the old days and chug plastic cups full of beer.

"You're sure? I can walk you home if you want?" Caleb asks.

Shaking my head, I brush my lips over the spot behind his ear. "I want to stay with you."

A breath of air escapes him, one that shoots through my system and pools in the pit of my stomach. I've been craving his touch for a while now, have been eager to feel his weight on me since we got into this position. He returned to Linkon this morning, where McKenna and I picked him up at the station and have been together as a trio ever since.

"Stay at my place tonight?" I ask, pressing my chest against his back, follow it up with a kiss to the side of his neck. "I've missed you."

He nods, the muscles in his neck working as he swallows. Pressing my lips together to hide a smile, I lift my head and rest my chin on his hair. McKenna's laughter rings from somewhere close by, some guy I barely remember walking over to start a conversation with Caleb.

Hopefully this will be over soon.

With McKenna dropped off safe and sound at Josephine's house, Caleb and I head next door to my mother's. She's gone for the weekend, off on a little getaway with her latest boyfriend that will probably fuck up in some capacity within the next month and be gone just as quickly as he arrived.

Or they'll play the on and off again game for a while. I haven't gotten a good read on him yet.

Unlocking the door, I step inside and flick the lights on, kicking off my shoes before going further in. "I think Brian's become even more of a loser since the last time I saw him."

Caleb snorts as he shrugs out of his jacket, hanging it on one of the many hooks lining the wall. "I see your opinion on everyone hasn't changed."

I can feel my face scrunch up. "Of course it hasn't. They're all as obnoxious as I remember."

He shoots me a playful look, head tilting slightly in a way that's just so adorable, I want to knock it off his shoulders so I don't have to keep looking at him. "Really? In case you've forgotten, I played sports with most of those guys. Does that mean you think I'm obnoxious?"

"On you, it's charming."

Chuckling, Caleb shakes his head and motions me to come closer. "Come here. I haven't had the chance to kiss you properly yet."

Heat rushes through me, the memory of his kisses enough to start a pulsing sensation between my legs. I step up onto the first step of the staircase. "You can have that kiss upstairs."

I race to the second floor, Caleb hot on my heels as I rush down the hall and throw open my bedroom door. He's on me the second we're inside, practically slamming the door with one arm while he uses the other to pull me in by the waist. His mouth his hot and eager, tongue slipping past my lips to taste me deeper. My moan is muffled as I slide my hands up his chest, locking onto his shoulders. His other hand tangles in my ash brown hair, gently tilting my head into a better angle.

I'm not sure how long we lose ourselves in the kiss, be it a couple of seconds or several minutes, but I only break it when my top feels like it's starting to constrict me. Caleb's lips are wet as I pull away, eyes glazed and locked on my figure as I yank the graphic shirt over my head and throw it in a random corner of the room. I go for my bra next, but Caleb pulls me back to him, his hands cupping my cheeks, and locks me in another kiss.

"What's the rush, baby?" He asks, the term of endearment making me melt. "We have all night."

I drag my lips across his jaw. "I haven't had you in months. Of course there's a rush."

"Wrong." He pinches my chin between his fingers, the blush on his cheeks making my stomach twist in the most delicious way. "That's all the more reason to savor this."

His hands slide to the backs of my thighs, and with the strength he's developed during training, hoists me up until my legs lock around his waist. I cling to him as he carries me the short distance to my bed, tug on his shirt as he lays me down. "Off."

Reaching between his shoulder blades with one hand, Caleb pulls his shirt up and over his head in one smooth move that only fuels my constantly growing attraction to him. His necklace dangles above me, catching the light of the lamp next to my bed. "Better?"

I answer by placing a hand on the back of his neck and pulling him into another kiss. We go until we're breathless, lips only parting when neither of us can take the burning in our lungs anymore. His hands scorch my bare skin as they roam over my ribs, sides and stomach, his lips redirecting their attention to my neck an collarbone.

Eyes closing, I sigh and curl my hips against him. I can feel how hard he is, am slowly losing my mind over the feel of him pressing against me. "Caleb."

"I know, pretty." He coos, slipping one hand beneath my back to undo the clasp of my bra. "Just be patient for me a little longer, okay?"

My moan spills into the room as his lips get reacquainted with my breasts, lapping at my skin until my nipples harden into sensitive peaks. "Caleb, please. You're killing me here."

My back bows into a small arch as his kisses descend down the length of my stomach. I've always been more sensitive there, the feel of his lips stoking the flames of desire. The flames burn hotter when he flicks the button of my jeans out of place and rips them, along with my underwear, down my legs.

Caleb lets out a shaky breath as he stares, one hand pressing down on my navel, the other nudging my thigh out of the way. I bite my lip as I watch him, a kernel of self-consciousness popping up and making my fingers itch to push him away. To snap my legs shut so he can't look at me like that anymore.

He treats me like I'm something divine, something to be cherished. It scares me, sometimes. Makes me worry that one day, he'll realize just how much of a mess I really am and decide to walk away. Turn to someone more radiant than I could ever be.

I don't get the chance to act on my thoughts. Caleb lowers his head and presses the flat of his tongue against me, licking a stripe through my center.

"Oh." I shudder, gripping the pillow beneath my head. A few sweeps of his tongue, and I already feel like I'm about to go off the edge of a waterfall.

Caleb knows my body inside and out, picked up on my likes and dislikes quickly after our first few times together. He could bring me to my end in a matter of seconds if he wanted to, but he never rushes this. He takes his time, building me up slowly, as if this is for his pleasure just as much as it is about mine.

"Caleb." I whine, the rise and fall of my chest rapid as release starts to sink its hooks into me. I reach down and run my fingers through his dark hair, abandon the pillow for the top of the headboard with the other. "Caleb, I'm close."

Just when I think he can't make me feel any better, he sinks two fingers into me and locks his lips around my clit. The gasp that comes out of me is wild, the tremble in my thighs telling of what he's doing to me. I scream his name as I come undone, my inner walls pulsing around his fingers as the shocks work through me.

"That's it, baby." Caleb mumbles, pressing light, calming kisses to my inner thighs. "Do you need a minute?"

My eyelids feel heavy, but I manage to peel them open. "No. I need you inside me."

His eyes go from dazed to hungry. Standing up, he gets out of the rest of this clothes and joins me on the bed. My busted knee means my dreams of becoming a Hunter are over, but I still had enough training before the injury to learn how to take down a person.

Caleb grunts in surprise as he lands on his back, hands flying to my hips as I settle above him. I brush my hair to the side before planting my hands on his beautifully sculpted chest. "Let me."

He looks conflicted. "Faye, you don't have to-"

"I want to."

He's such a giver that if I don't push, he'd make this solely about me.

I don't give him the chance to talk me out of it. Reaching back, I run my hand up and down his length once before positioning him at my entrance. Then, I slowly sink down. Our groans mix as I move, my body only able to accommodate half of him for now. The stretch is a lovely burn, the feel of him massaging my inner walls better than I remember. My hands roam over his chest and abs, soaking in the feel of his muscles as his hands guide my hips and help hold me steady.

"Fuck, you feel so good." Caleb breathes, jaw hanging open as he watches me move. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to focus on training when I know I have you waiting for me here?"

His words pull another moan from me. I take his hands from my hips and hold them instead, slotting our fingers together. "You should hurry and finish so that you can come home more often then. It's not the same without you here."

My body has adjusted enough that I can take him to the hilt now. The addition of the last few inches has me throwing my head back, spurs me to take him faster. Harder.

"Caleb, I love you."

I don't know why the sudden strong urge to say it comes over me, but it does and I do. It's not something I haven't said to him before, we say it on the daily over text or phone calls. Maybe it's because of my little insecurity earlier, or because he's once again looking at me like I'm some kind of goddess, but I want him to know how I feel about him again. I need him to know.

He pulls his hands free and takes ownership of my hips again. He starts bucking his hips to meet my thrusts, taking over the motions. I collapse onto his chest, so overwhelmed with pleasure I can't keep it up any longer.

"I love you too, baby." Caleb wraps his arms around my back, keeping me pinned against him as he drives us both to the edge. "You're mine, yeah? Tell me you're mine."

I nod against his cheek. "I- ah! I'm y-yours, Caleb. I'm all- all y-yours!"

He drives into me one final time, the string within me snapping and I fall apart for him again. I cry out against his shoulder, tremble in his embrace as the intense waves of release crash over me.

I'm utterly exhausted when I come back into my body, Caleb's gentle kisses across my shoulder like a soothing balm to the ache that I'm sure I'll feel in the morning. He rolls us onto our sides, tucks me in close and strokes my hair from roots to ends.

"What are you thinking right now?" He asks in a soft voice, his fingers coasting over my cheek.

I take a deep breath, willing my pulse to return to normal. "I'm thinking that I still have no idea what to do with my life now that being a Hunter is out of the question. What I do know is that no matter what, I want to be with you."

Caleb smiles. "Yeah. Me too."

SFW Masterlist || NSFW Masterlist

[metalforth]

all of those asks with caleb plz

oh god this is gonna be long. stick with me here ok? ok. let’s go

1) what's a Hot Take you have about your f/o?

idk why a lot of the fandom thinks like this, but caleb is not a yandere & would not be extremely good at sex instantly.

sure he’s possessive and gets jealous, but he’s not gonna just immediately kill someone who looks at mc once. he broke vipers wrist (iirc), but that’s because viper was hurting mc by holding her wrist too tightly and was very clearly bothering her. his jealousy and possessive behaviour isnt for no reason, either, because he has personally witnessed mc being experimented on and has routinely put himself in her place just so that her torturers will leave her alone. all he wants is to protect mc, and while he might say extreme things sometimes, he very explicitly states that he would only act on those things if mc wants him to!

and as for him being some sort of sex god…. no. no fucking way. are we looking at the same guy? this dumbass puppy?

no. he’s still a virgin by the time of the homecoming wings story. he has only ever wanted mc, never even LOOKED at another girl. mc was his first fantasy, his first kiss, his first everything. it just doesnt make sense to me otherwise. he miiiightve looked to porn or genuine advice online on how to pleasure someone in order to make mc feel good when it finally happens, but he’s still nervous and a bit shaky with it. its his first time too!

2) on what do you disagree with other fans of your f/o?

the ‘gege’ trope & forbidden love part of caleb’s relationship with mc IS important, but it is NOT the only thing that their relationship is about! other themes in their relationship/lore include freedom, finding happiness by defining it for yourself, and realising your worth. not to mention, everyone seems to just gloss over the fact that caleb cared about mc even before they were both taken in by grandma josephine. he saw her being tortured for EVER’s gain, and he felt for her, just a little girl who didnt deserve any of this pain, and that is when he felt a connection with her, because he was going through the same thing.

3) did you used to ship your f/o with anyone before realizing you wanted to ship them with yourself?

uhhhh does an s/i count? i made kali as an insert for lads because i usually dont use my own names for otome games, but eventually caleb became so special to me that i couldnt help it; i wanted to open the game and see ‘nanno’ in his dialogue text instead of ‘kali’.

4) do you feel like you have to defend your f/o all the time?

not allll the time, but definitely a lot :( a fair few people dont realise and/or refuse to acknowledge that caleb & mc’s canon relationship isnt incest/pseudo-cest/step-cest. its just that of two traumatised children raised side by side who only ever had each other. caleb even says it himself in the CN dub; ‘have you ever thought about it? i’ve never been your brother.’

5) what's the dumbest thing you've heard about your f/o, either on the internet or irl?

see the above questions…..;;;;

6) what are some tropes that fan art of your f/o tends to follow?

uhhhh lots of longing/yearning vibes, space, him being a puppy, & him just going along with whatever mc does

7) did your f/o deserve better?

always :( my lovely boy deserves to be able to feel his emotions properly without being punished for it, deserves to be able to feel touch like he could before EVER got to him, deserves to never ever be used as a human weapon ever again.

8) do you even like the source your f/o comes from or do you only watch it for them & nothing else?

i love lads as a game, but tbh i dont really care for the other guys, at least as LIs. they’re great characters, but caleb’s my guy!!! ^_^

9) do you distance yourself from other fans of your f/o or their source?

ahh kind of? i go into tags and stuff every now and then & i like content if it comes across my feed, but i kind of just prefer to interact with yumeshippers in general on here, and if they also like lads too, thats cool :D other people who f/o caleb are a big no for me tho :(

10) how did you feel when you realized "oh of course i had to like That Character"?

it was when his trailer came out. originally i wasnt very bothered with him, and i thought i’d just ignore him when he came out, but his trailer really changed my mind. he was just so… attractive. the tension he had with mc in the trailer made me think, ‘oh. maybe i will like this guy’, and like two days later i was grumbling and frowning cuz i just couldnt get him out of my head. he really infected my brain. needy bastard

11) do you think it's better to have a copious amount of content for your f/o, even with the risk of finding a lot of ship art, or better to have a lot less?

lads is an otome game, so theres bound to be ship art of caleb with other peoples mcs, but to be honest i just scroll past or block if theyre a yumeshipper with him. to me, i prefer having more content, since im not all that creative myself, so its nice to look at other people’s works and see things that i wouldnt be able to think of.

12) aren't you tired of being nice? this is an excuse to rant.

i used up all my energy explaining on the first few questions… just look at those ^^;;;

[ejzah]

In Miss Blye’s Class, Part 28

***

After a couple days of thought, Caleb decided he did want Monica to visit again, so Deeks called the number she’d left during that first night. He was honestly a little surprised when she answered. Or that she’d actually stayed in town at all.

Twenty minutes before Monica was supposed to arrive on Thursday night, Deeks pulled a chicken and roasted vegetables out of the oven for dinner. He’d debated including Monica in on the meal—it all seemed a little too domestic for his comfort—but decided any other option would be obviously rude and petty. He had resisted the urge to do any extra cleaning, even though cleaning was one of his natural stress responses.

The doorbell rang as he was flipping a separate pan of potatoes.Deeks waited a moment to see if Caleb would come running to answer it. Either he hadn’t heard it from his room, or was ignoring it.

Deeks wiped his hands on a spare towel, tugging at the hem of his shirt as he walked out of the kitchen. He had a feeling it was going to be a very long night.

He opened the door to a smirking Monica, her arms crossed over her chest.

“I almost thought you weren’t going to answer,” she said, ducking under his arm.

“Nice to see you too, Monica. Please, come in,” he said wryly, closing the door behind them. “Caleb’s still finishing his homework, but he should be done in a few minutes.”

“Homework?” She chuckled, and he didn’t need to look to know she’d rolled her eyes. “In our day they gave us a couple pictures to color and called it a day.”

“Yeah, times change. I’m finishing dinner, if you wanna follow me. Otherwise, you’re welcome to the TV in the den.” He gestured with his chin, and Monica tilted her head, scrutinizing him for a few seconds that felt unbearably long.

“Hm, I think I’ll take the first option,” she decided. “It’s been a long time since I’ve watched you cook.”

“I don’t seem to recall you being that impressed before,” Deeks commented without thinking.

“Ooh, somebody’s feeling spicy tonight,” Monica said teasingly. “You know what they say about absence.”

Deeks chose not to comment on that, silently walking into the kitchen, and occupying himself with checking the potatoes. They needed a couple more minutes. When he turned around, he found Monica watching him again.

“You want anything to drink?” He pulled a couple glasses from the cabinet next to the stove.

“It feels like a wine kind of night. Do you have anything red?”

“I might have a cabernet somewhere.” Shaking his head, he put one of the regular glasses back, pulling out a wineglass instead. A drink sounded pretty good right now, specifically a large shot of scotch. That seemed like a poor choice though, for a multitude of reasons, so he filled his glass with water, and started searching through the small collection of alcohol he had on hand.

He found a merlot from a couple years back, decided that would have to do, and uncorked it. Monica stayed silent through the whole process, making him feel uneasy.

“So, who’s Kensi?” Monica asked abruptly as he passed her a glass of wine. The question was so unexpected, he said nothing, and she apparently interpreted it as willfully ignoring her. “I heard Caleb say the name the other night when I came. Clearly he expected someone else. And, he accidentally mentioned her a couple other times.”

“Oh no, we’re not going there,” Deeks said firmly.

“That means she’s important. Did you finally break your vow of celibacy and start dating again?”

God, she was infuriating sometimes. He took a couple steps back, purposely distancing himself.

“Monica, I am not discussing my personal life with you.”

“I think it’s my right to know who’s coming into my son’s life,” she insisted with a careless shrug. She paused to take a long sip of her wine.

“No, it’s not,” Deeks said more quietly, but with no less conviction. “Maybe if you were here more than once every year. Or if you even kept in touch regularly. You haven’t though, so I get to make the decisions about who is in Caleb’s life.”

Monica gave him an incredulous look, crossing her arms over her chest. “And I’m guessing I’m not one of those people, huh? I’m not this Kensi who makes both of you light up.”

“If you’re implying that I’ve said anything negative about you to Caleb, that is the farthest from the truth.” He lowered his voice on the off chance that Caleb chose this moment to walk in as seemed his way. “I’ve done my very best to never let my own feelings and opinions about you influence him. Seeing you tonight was completely his own decision.”

Her eyes widened as she tilted her head again, mouth slightly open. “You really believe that, don’t you?”

“When have I ever lied to you, Monica?” he asked, and she seemed stunned by the simple question.

Beyond her shoulder he saw Caleb appear in the doorway, standing there hesitantly when he noticed Monica in the room too.

“Hey kiddo, you finish your homework?”

“Yeah. Is dinner ready?”

Setting her wine aside, Monica turned and offered Caleb a smile. “Hi Caleb. There’s my big boy,” she said, holding her arms open.

“Hi Mommy.” He smiled back shyly, accepting a hug a little stiffly.

“Did you miss me?” she asked.

“Kind of,” Caleb answered honestly.

Monica’s face feel briefly before she recovered herself. “Well, I missed you.” She poked Caleb in the stomach, eliciting a little giggle from him. “Let’s set the table while Daddy finished dinner.”

As they walked out of the room, she fixed Deeks with a determined look that he knew could only mean trouble. Slouching against the counter, he pressed his palms against his eye sockets. He hoped this hadn’t been a terrible mistake.

***

A/N: Yes, Monica just brings all the drama. And yes, she’s the villain of this story.

[cagedchoices]

RELATIONSHIP META - MAEVE & CALEB (PART II)

[PART I]

Way back when I started my Dolores & Caleb meta series, I did it by talking about their first encounter in chronological order instead of episode order. I did it that way to better organize the timeline as a reference for writing and maybe even make it easier for other people to understand the story without actually needing to watch Westworld because I know season 3 was not everyone's jam.

I have less problems with the way Maeve and Caleb’s story was handled through season 4, but I'm keeping to a similar pattern here for consistency and to again hopefully make it easier for anyone who hasn't seen the show to be able to follow the story anyway. Most of this is to explain that I'm going to jump around a little to talk about some flashbacks shown during 4.04 - Generation Loss and 4.06 - Fidelity before I actually start talking about 4.01 - The Auguries.

Sometime after the conclusion of the season 3 finale, Maeve and Caleb head out on a new mission together. They case an old lighthouse structure on a remote island, with a plan to destroy the final remaining version of Rehoboam, the AI that controlled humanity through data collection and predictive algorithms.

CALEB: What happens when this war is over? MAEVE: I imagine that we…go back to our regular lives. CALEB: What does that look like for us? MAEVE: Let's hope we have the luxury of finding out.

Beyond the scope of war, Caleb has…almost nothing really going for him. Maeve has the idea of being reunited with her daughter to look forward to, at the very least. Even if it never happens, what matters to her is that everything she’s done is ultimately to ensure her daughter’s safety no matter where Maeve herself personally ends up.

But for Caleb, there’s not even much of a regular life for him to go back to. A job and a place to live, sure. But what’s he gonna do if he doesn't need to work a second job as a criminal? What if he has some actual free time to spend with friends and family? Most of the friends he made last season are dead, and the only family we knew he had was a mom who didn’t recognize him as her son.

I think Caleb almost fully expected he’d be dead by now too, and that he wouldn't have to worry about finding a new purpose in life anyway. But since he's not dead yet and after this, the war should be coming to an end, he has to start thinking about the future again.

I do, in my portrayal, choose to interpret this as 'Caleb and Maeve are in love with each other' and so I see it as Caleb trying to express that he WANTS a romantic relationship with Maeve, without specifically saying it in those words. Because really there is no context in which he can say anything like that where it doesn't sound insane.

I can take the shipping goggles off as needed though, and see it as meaning Caleb would like for Maeve to remain a part of his life in a platonic way. Either way, the idea is that he doesn't want her to just go away because the war is over. He’s hoping she will stick around.

They execute their plan pretty much perfectly like a pair of old pros, fighting their way inside the building. Caleb plants explosive charges around the structure Rehoboam is fixed to and arms them, and he and Maeve manage to make it back outside to safety just as the sphere falls to the floor and blows up inside the building.

A guard comes running toward them while they are both vulnerable on the ground and Caleb spots him first, so he shoots. But the guard shoots too and neither of them miss the shot. Caleb kills the guard, the guard wounds him in turn.

The realization hits Maeve that Caleb has just been shot and she hurries him on his feet and brings him a safe distance from the lighthouse before trying to tend his wound. Unfortunately, there's not a whole lot she can do for him, but she has some gauze pads that she uses to put pressure on the wound and try to stop the bleeding.

A single screencap doesn't do it justice at all, but there's a brief moment where Maeve moves her left hand to press gauze over Caleb's wound, he puts his left hand on top of hers, and then she puts her right hand on top of that. After she presses the gauze down on the wound, she slips her left hand out from under the hand pile and places it back on top, then pulls the hem of his shirt back down with her right hand. At that point, Caleb's right hand, which is holding onto the shirt, slides down toward the pile of hands and he reaches his fingertips toward Maeve's.

I go feral every time I think about it because Caleb is the only human Maeve has allowed to do something like this since she escaped the confines of the park. Anyone else and she'd most likely object to them touching her without permission, but not Caleb. And not just because he's dying either.

CALEB: I guess I’ll never know. MAEVE: You’ll have to be more specific, Caleb. CALEB: Life after this… Freedom. MAEVE: Caleb... Look at me. You want to know what freedom feels like? CALEB: What are you doing? MAEVE: I can hack into your limbics. I felt it once. A long time ago. I can show you… Feel.

Maeve uses Caleb’s limbic implant to share a memory of her narrative loop in Westworld as a homesteader, walking through a sunlit field with her daughter near their home. It’s the one that she first remembered as a dream from season 1.

People are generally pretty surprised that Maeve’s idea of freedom has anything to do with being back in Westworld, but I don't think it's really *about* the park itself. She just wants Caleb to be able to experience something LIKE a simple, peaceful life. Besides which, she lived in the park for 35 years and she's only been in the real world for maybe 1 year at the most by this time.

Another flashback shows Caleb in a hospital operating room being resuscitated while undergoing emergency surgery, showing exactly how close he came to dying in that moment. Maeve is anxiously watching through a window on the other side of the room.

During the next sequence of flashbacks, which happens over top of Caleb fighting against yet another life-threatening wound in the present-day, Maeve explains that unlike Caleb's perception of what happened, she did not just drop him off and disappear on him forever.

After the doctors revived him and got his condition stabilized, he was in a coma that nobody really seemed sure he would pull out of, and Maeve stayed by his side in the hospital almost the whole time he was unconscious.

What little we know about this is that it forced her to confront human mortality in a way that she had never needed to before. She was torn between fearing the worst, that Caleb might never wake up or get to enjoy life in a free world and this would be the end of him— or hoping for the best, that he would wake up and go on to have the good life he was previously denied.

I just kind of imagine that since nothing about Caleb's condition had changed while Maeve stuck by his side, she decided to give it a rest and step away for a while, clear her thoughts, maybe think through what the best options were for this situation. It would have to be pretty insane for her going through all of this.

She's the only one who can advocate for Caleb because she knows him the best and she’s his closest friend and she's there, but at the same time she is a host and she was never designed with any of this in mind. And she's having to make a choice for a human who rests somewhere in a liminal space between life and death where she's not sure if there is a right or wrong answer.

In one of Caleb's memories shown during 4.06 - Fidelity, he recalls regaining consciousness and Uwade waiting to examine his vitals. He's still got a tube in and Uwade greets him with "I see you've decided to rejoin us. Welcome back to the world", so it must be the first time he's waking up. Maeve isn't anywhere to be seen, so my best guess is she wasn't in the room at this time.

We next see Maeve standing outside Caleb's room, looking in through the window, while Uwade tends to him. It does feel to me like she planned on going in to see him here now that he was awake, but then when she saw how Caleb smiled at Uwade and Uwade smiled back and generally just observed how gentle and affectionate this nurse was around him, Maeve felt that was exactly the kind of thing Caleb deserves to experience. He could fall in love with Uwade, maybe get married and grow old together with her, maybe raise babies with her. Things Maeve knows she can't facilitate. So instead she leaves.

Caleb has another flashback set sometime after, in 4.06, where he has a short conversation with Uwade. This almost certainly would only have happened after Maeve left, given what both characters say and how they react.

CALEB: Did she come back? My...friend? (Uwade lowers her gaze and shakes her head) CALEB: Right. UWADE: Long shift. I ate your pudding. Gotta get back to saving lives. (She stands and walks to the door, pausing and turning her attention back to Caleb) Caleb... Even if your friend doesn't come back...stay awake anyway?

By the events of 4.01 - The Auguries, it has been 7 years since all of this happened. Maeve is living in self-imposed exile, a remote woodland cabin surrounded by forest and snowy mountains. She's alone, sitting in front of the fireplace as though meditating. She starts to interfere with a radio she has on, using her ability to remote hack electronics. The broadcast turns to static as she seems to be trying to tune to a specific frequency.

She reflects on her past in the park with her daughter, and Clementine, and then with Hector. She remembers them dying at various points in her life. Then she thinks about Caleb. She remembers watching the destruction of Los Angeles with him at the end of the season 3 finale, and then taking on that mission together where Caleb got shot.

While she’s remembering this moment in particular, the emotional impact of Caleb getting hurt draws her into reliving the experience as it happened. She accidentally shorts out the radio with her powers, and even though her house is off the grid and running on a generator, the current bounces back through the grid and that triggers a chain reaction which then causes the entire county to experience a blackout. The outage gives off a unique signal that attracts the attention of Charlotte Hale-Dolores, who now knows where Maeve and Caleb are, and she quickly sends out enemies to track down and kill them both.

Around the same time that Maeve is trying to find Caleb through the grid, he is at work. He’s trying his best to move on but that’s hard because he’s got severe untreated PTSD and everybody else in the world is getting ready to celebrate the anniversary of the thing he nearly died for. His coworker doesn't even know what the point of the war was, he just knows it was inconvenient and thinks Rehoboam wasn't all that bad.

In a behind the scenes featurette: Creating Westworld's Reality - Season 4 Episode 1, co-creator and showrunner Jonathan Nolan, actor Aaron Paul, and production designer Jon Carlos had this to say about Caleb as we find him at the beginning of season 4.

JONATHAN NOLAN: Seven years have passed since the end of the previous season. So we find our characters, in some cases, in radically different circumstances. But for Caleb, the situation hasn't changed very much. We find him right back where he started at the beginning of the third season.

AARON PAUL: He's haunted by his past, and so he just cannot shake the feeling that he's being followed. He can't shake the feeling that the war isn't really over.

JON CARLOS: [...] We start to see the emergence of graffiti, as exposed on the exterior of his house. There's weeds, there's a little bit worse for wear. And I think similar to the look of his face, you know, a bit more gaunt, a bit more unshaven, unkempt. And it's the world he thought he wanted, but he doesn't quite seem happy.

At least a few things have changed for Caleb. He has a wife, he has a daughter he would do practically anything for, he lives in a bigger and better house with them as family. He has a human coworker now. But he’s gone back to being a construction worker again. He’s haunted by yet another traumatic memory he doesn’t know all the details of. And the only person he might be willing to talk through that trauma with is long gone.

As for what Maeve's been up to... She stopped at the local general store in her area to pick up a bottle of wine and left with a wood axe and a scoped rifle after the store owner told her some friends of hers stopped in asking for directions to her place. She caught up to her uninvited guests as they were waiting to ambush her and dealt with them, recognizing them as other hosts from the park, with one sharing the likeness of Colonel Brigham from season 2.

Plugging into the leader's head, she discovered he was working for William and realized that if they found her, then there's a good chance they were after Caleb too. She torches the cabin to destroy any evidence she might be leaving behind, and sets out to find Caleb before William's guys do.

Back at home, Caleb is going through it. Mentally, at least. As mentioned earlier, it's the anniversary of the end of the war. That in itself is a PTSD trigger, but adding to it, Uwade has been giving him a hard time about teaching their daughter his vices, dismissing his concerns as sheer paranoia, and generally treating him like he's consciously choosing to remain traumatized and unhappy. And he's not really able to let any of these interactions go, because they keep coming back up and making him feel worse every time.

Caleb tucks Frankie in for bedtime, but hears a noise outside which triggers a trauma response; hyper-vigilance. He heads downstairs to grab a gun and head outside to confront the threat, but Uwade catches him and talks him down. This leaves Frankie worried and unable to sleep, and she hears the same noise again later when she’s alone in her room. She gets up and looks outside to find a raccoon rummaging through the neighbor's trash and is about to go back to bed when she accidentally drops her teddybear out the window. She sneaks outside to retrieve it around the same moment Caleb decides to empty out the kitchen trash.

Maeve arrives at Caleb's home just in time to save him and Frankie from attack by an enemy host modeled after Walter, another Westworld host.

There's a lot of unease around the way Caleb first reacts to Maeve's appearance. He sends Uwade inside with Frankie before confronting Maeve and that’s likely because he’s not sure if she's the real Maeve or if this is a more elaborate trick. When he realizes she really IS Maeve, almost if not all of his hesitance and apprehension falls away immediately.

MAEVE: Hello, darling. CALEB: It's really you. You know, I thought… I was sure I was never gonna see you again. MAEVE: And yet here I am, disposing and dismembering, just like the good old days. CALEB: If something happened to my daughter, you have no idea— MAEVE: I have every idea. Which is why it won't come to that. I know who sent those men after us. William. He's back at it.

I still wonder when where and HOW Caleb learned about William. I can only assume he knows roughly the same things that Maeve knows with maybe a few details left out, but assuming anything without evidence in Westworld is a dangerous game.

Maeve prepares to leave and go after William-Not-William alone, and Caleb is determined to join her despite Uwade urging him to think of their family and stay put. He has already made sure that some old teammates from his and Maeve's war days will keep Uwade and Frankie safe while he's gone, putting his friend Carver in charge.

CALEB: I always knew this day was coming. As soon as you stop running, everyone else starts to catch up. Any idea why now? MAEVE: I don't know. But I had a little tete á tete with the one they sent after me. We're not the only ones William was after. He seemed very interested in talking to a senator in California. CALEB: Then we should get to him first. MAEVE: "We?" CALEB: I'm coming. It's the only way I can protect my family. MAEVE: I'll be fine on my own. You can stay here. You probably should. CALEB: Would you? MAEVE: No… but I'd regret it.

I noticed at some point, which means I can't not notice it anymore, that they both started out using “I/you/me” statements in the conversation initially, like they were trying to maintain a degree of separation since their circumstances are different to what they were 7 years ago. But Maeve still slips into a “we” statement and then Caleb meets it with the same energy in return. Maeve calls him out on it even though she started it, but neither of them really can afford to linger too long here, so they each withdraw into only using “I” and “You” again.

Also, I love that upon Caleb asking if Maeve would stay if their roles were reversed, she gives a little expression like “that’s not fair” but she knows he’s right and there’s no talking him out of going with her. They set off together on a long drive to what I’m guessing is meant to be Northern California despite the fact that the filming locations are all based in Southern California.

4.02 - Well Enough Alone picks up with Maeve and Caleb on a long drive to the estate home of Ken Whitney, a California state senator, to question him about his ties to William. Maeve makes a gentle remark about Frankie and tries to engage Caleb in a conversation about his family and how his life has changed since they parted ways, but he's a bit reluctant to talk about it. He's more interested in what Maeve has been doing with herself since she left.

MAEVE: Your daughter… She's lovely. A credit to your wife's genetics, no doubt. CALEB: Yeah, she and her mother are the best thing that ever happened to me. MAEVE: Well, to be fair, that bar was rather low considering the life that you'd lived prior. CALEB: So this cabin you were living in…did you see other people? MAEVE: I was alone. CALEB: Maeve, if you would've told me, I wouldn't have— MAEVE: Oh, I didn't say I was lonely. CALEB: Well, if you were happy being alone, why bother coming back? MAEVE: To save your life at the last available moment, clearly. CALEB: (Chuckles) You know, I could've handled that. MAEVE: Please.

He wants an explanation as to why she up and left for 7 years only to come back *now*, but…he doesn't just want to ask her directly because he knows she will avoid giving him a straight answer.

The truth is, Maeve did miss him because that's what drove her to go "I wonder how he's doing" and inadvertently endanger him in the process, but she is not about to admit THAT.

It does also strike me as funny that of all the possible ways Caleb could have asked Maeve what she's been up to in this cabin of hers, he picked the one that sounds the most like what an ex might say to an old flame of theirs during some awkward reunion. “see other people-” I mean. come on. As if that’s not commonly used as code for breaking up to date someone else.

They pull into the driveway of the senator’s estate and make their way toward the house. They go inside and Caleb stays hidden while Maeve meets with Senator Whitney.

MAEVE: Good afternoon, Senator. SENATOR: Good afternoon… You’re Anastasia’s friend? MAEVE: I didn’t mean to interrupt. SENATOR: Oh, she should be ready any moment. Anastasia? ANASTASIA: Are you ready? We’ll be late for the opera. SENATOR: It's your friend…? ANASTASIA: I'm sorry, do I know you? MAEVE: We have a mutual acquaintance. I believe he dropped by just the other day with an associate. His name's William. SENATOR: Who the hell are you? ANASTASIA: I’m calling security. (Caleb approaches with a gun drawn, aimed at the senator’s wife) CALEB: Let’s keep this between us. SENATOR: If he thinks he can send you two here to try to twist my arm— (Maeve shoots the Senator, sending him backwards into a small glass coffee table. Anastasia drops to her knees beside him and sobs.) MAEVE: That’s not your husband. You’re hosts. Just like me. HOST ANASTASIA: Took you long enough.

Caleb prepares to shoot Host Anastasia, but she tackles him through the glass and throws him around in the ensuing fight. Maeve battles the Host Senator, trying to shut him down using the classic "Freeze all motor functions" command, but it doesn't work. She shoots him in the groin to incapacitate him instead, and then saves Caleb from being strangled by Host Anastasia.

The two then question the senator about his purpose, who he works for, and what happened to the original senator.

MAEVE: Who are you? HOST SENATOR: An emissary of the new world order. MAEVE: How many more are there like you? HOST SENATOR: As of now, 249. CALEB: Oh, Jesus… MAEVE: The original senator and his wife…What did you do with them? HOST SENATOR: I did as I was instructed. MAEVE: Show me. [...] Oh. Well it's actually worse than I thought.

Maeve reviews the host senator's memory files and discovers that William is working with Charlotte Hale-Dolores. The Host Senator killed and replaced his original human predecessor so that they could sway legislation in William and Hale's favor, making it possible for them to open new Westworld-derivative parks in America. The real senator's wife, however, wasn't killed outright. She was taken to a horse barn out back to be held prisoner as part of some experiment.

Maeve and Caleb arrive at the barn to investigate and come upon the slain, mutilated bodies of the real Anastasia's horses, and Anastasia herself in the middle of dismembering her latest victim.

CALEB: Is this another host? MAEVE: I'm afraid this is the real Mrs. Whitney. CALEB: Hey Mrs. Whitney? Anastasia? (Anastasia pauses and looks toward the intruders) CALEB: It's okay. We're just here to help. ANASTASIA: What happened to my horses? CALEB: Hey. (Anastasia brandishes her knife at Caleb) ANASTASIA: Stay away! CALEB: Alright. Hey. ANASTASIA: (Humming) You're invited. It's opening night. MAEVE: I beg your pardon? ANASTASIA: Your old friend is anxious for a reunion. CALEB: What? ANASTASIA: Don Giovanni. We can't be late. Now…I've done my part. It's time to do yours. CALEB: What part? ANASTASIA: Free me. CALEB: I can't do that. ANASTASIA: You don't have a choice. CALEB: Wait! (Anastasia tries to slash Caleb with her knife. Maeve shoots Anastasia in the head, to his horror) CALEB: What are you doing? MAEVE: She was already gone. And she may have been human…but she wasn't like any human I've ever seen. (They both start to notice a strange black goo oozing from Anastasia's head instead of blood) CALEB: Oh my god.

Offscreen, sometime in between the end of the stable scene and their next one going into the arts center, Caleb and Maeve stop to pick up some black tie attire worthy of opening night at the opera. I imagine it went similar to Dolores and Caleb suit shopping in season 3 and that Maeve picked out a tuxedo *for* Caleb, prompting their next short exchange.

CALEB: Did it really have to be a tux? MAEVE: Far be it from me to limit your sartorial choices. Anyway…you don't look entirely awful. CALEB: You don't look too bad yourself. MAEVE: Why, thank you. CALEB: You think this is a trap? MAEVE: Most assuredly. CALEB: Can you use some of your magic, see if there's any hosts inside? MAEVE: Working on it.

While Maeve scans for enemy hosts, Caleb calls to check in on his family and relay some info to Carver about what he and Maeve have discovered so far. He tells Carver to get Frankie and Uwade out of the city for safety and to bring backup to the opera house, which he shares the coordinates to.

Maeve's scan returns no sign of other hosts inside the building, and they move into the noticeably deserted theatre, with nothing but a lone gramophone record playing Don Giovanni positioned on stage. Maeve stops the gramophone's needle, activating a hidden elevator leading underneath the stage.

MAEVE: Well, I suppose that's our cue. CALEB: Are you armed? MAEVE: You have the gun. I have this. (Maeve gestures to her head) CALEB: Yeah, but I think that you should have a gun as well. MAEVE: And what is that supposed to mean? CALEB: It wasn't exactly smooth sailing back there with the senator. MAEVE: I told you. He had a few upgrades. It's nothing I can't handle.

Naturally, Caleb doesn’t argue a point any further than that, but he’s still not feeling particularly confident that Maeve’s got this as under control as she thinks she does. I don't know what he's so worried about. She's only saved his life about 3 times in less than 24 hours. It's fiiine.

They make their way down a long hallway reminiscent of the scene in season 1 where Young William enters a door leading into the bar car of the train to Sweetwater. The door opens into a speakeasy that is filled with other people, and the first thing Caleb and Maeve do after Caleb quickly puts his gun away, is head to the bar and order drinks for each other.

BARTENDER: Afternoon. What can I get you? CALEB: Uh. Sherry for the lady. Thanks. MAEVE: Mm. CALEB: You, my friend, are a creature of habit. MAEVE: Sazerac for the gentleman, but… easy on the absinthe. Because you, my friend, are a featherweight with drink.

In my research shortly after this episode premiered, I learned that a Sazerac is a combination of rye whiskey or brandy, bitters, sugar, and absinthe and it’s known for having among one of the highest alcohol by volume rates a mixed drink can attain. Mostly because of the absinthe, known for its ability to get people really drunk really quick, but rye whiskey can be pretty potent in its own respect too.

So Maeve teasing Caleb about being a lightweight, while at the same time ordering him the booziest booze on the menu, and her only stipulation was not to put too much absinthe in it, is genuinely so fucking funny to me. Either Caleb really IS a featherweight and after knocking back 1 or 2 of these puppies they would've been in for a riot of an evening. OR Because Maeve is a host, she has a much higher tolerance for alcohol than most humans, so her idea of a lightweight could be what the average person would consider a heavyweight and Caleb can hold his liquor against her fairly well...up to a point. It could've taken several refills just to get him to mellow out a little bit.

None of it really matters though, because Caleb doesn’t take a single sip of his drink before he starts dwelling on the past and prodding Maeve about their last mission together.

CALEB: So…are we going to talk about it? MAEVE: "It" being… CALEB: What happened at the lighthouse. MAEVE: As I recall, I saved your life. CALEB: I meant afterward. MAEVE: What? We did what we always said we would. Got on with our lives. CALEB: My wife doesn't think so. She thinks I'm living in the past. MAEVE: War is not an easy thing to put behind you. CALEB: You seem pretty good at it. MAEVE: Well, I am an infinitely adaptable machine, darling.

Maeve knows because Caleb has done this at least twice already that he’s about to bring up a topic she really doesn’t want him worrying about, so she's ready to dodge it. But unlike the way Uwade handled Caleb's trauma moments by essentially telling him to just move on and think happy thoughts, Maeve knows that it's not easy. And really, she never moved on either, so she really understands it. But she also doesn't want to just sit there and keep encouraging Caleb to fixate on the past the way he keeps doing it. So in a last effort, she tries to redirect him to one of the GOOD parts of the past instead— being drinking partners.

MAEVE: You are really not the convivial drinking partner I was hoping for. (The entire room jolts suddenly, rattling bottles and glasses around the bar and forcing Caleb to brace against the counter) CALEB: Whoa. MAEVE: I should have known. CALEB: Known what? MAEVE: I ran away. Crossed the shining sea. And when I finally set foot back on solid ground…all I found was the same old shit.

The speakeasy is revealed to be the interior of a train car, which is now on the move carrying its patrons deep into the desert. Maeve and Caleb are trapped on board.

Caleb tries to call Carver for reinforcements, but he doesn't get cell service so far out, leaving the pair to figure out a new plan. They’re soon approached by a greeter host, one Maeve recognizes as New Clementine.

CALEB: So much for backup. I can’t get a signal. MAEVE: Well, we’re on our own then. WOMAN: Excuse me. I don’t believe we've met. I'm Sophia. I’m here to help with your reservation. CALEB: I don’t know if it’s under my name or yours, dear. Might need your help. SOPHIA: Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Morgan. Welcome. So glad you could make it. MAEVE: Oh, we wouldn't have missed this for the world. SOPHIA: May I have your device, sir? It helps to ensure your experience is fully immersive. MAEVE: We may as well, at this point. SOPHIA: Excellent. Please, follow me.

With how casually and willingly Maeve plays along with this act and doesn't make a single spirited or smarmy remark regarding being “dear’d” or about briefly pretending to be married to Caleb in the first place, I’m almost entirely convinced that this is not the first time they've pulled this trick off together. Please give me the forbidden height-of-revolution fake relationship shenanigans.

Oh, and I recently noticed in a routine ‘let's analyze this scene down to the smallest detail’ rewatch, when Sophia has her attention on them, Maeve makes sure to keep her left ring finger covered with her right hand or otherwise hides her left hand from view entirely, possibly so Sophia won’t be able to see she’s not actually wearing a ring on her finger. Caleb is wearing his wedding ring, and he doesn't hide his hand quite as consistently as Maeve does, but he does tend to keep it tucked in his pocket or angles his left side further away so it can't be seen as easily.

Sophia leads Caleb and Maeve into a dressing room containing bespoke suits on one side and dresses on the other. She gives them a familiar questionnaire.

SOPHIA: Given it’s your first visit— MAEVE: Oh, well not entirely. Although I see you’ve got a promotion. SOPHIA: I have a few personal questions. Do you have any pre-existing medical conditions? MAEVE: Uh. Died a few times, but I always come back in reasonably good health. SOPHIA: I’m sorry, I don’t understand. CALEB: She was joking. SOPHIA: Of course. And how about you? Any history of heart problems? CALEB: No. SOPHIA: What about mental illness? Depression? Panic attacks? MAEVE: No. CALEB: Why would that matter? MAEVE: He's fine. SOPHIA: And before it was shut down…did you ever visit Westworld? CALEB: Couldn't afford it. MAEVE: I was, what you might call, a regular. SOPHIA: Shall I assume, since you're back, you had a positive experience? MAEVE: It was certainly eye opening. SOPHIA: Of course. Now, would you please validate these waivers of liability, along with the consent to use your personal data in our beta trials. MAEVE: Why not?

I love what this scene did for the dynamic going into the new park. Caleb has no idea what to expect and he takes it so seriously because he’s entirely out of his element. Maeve, while she is answering truthfully, (aside from the part about Caleb's mental illness concerns, which is fair because yeah maybe Don't give your enemies more ideas for ways they can further traumatize you) she has a little bit of fun with it and is playful in most of her responses. She gets to be on the other side of these interactions as a guest for once and it is inherently exciting!

Sophia makes an advance toward Caleb while he is checking out suits and he seems like he just doesn't really know what to do with that. He kind of freezes and Maeve interrupts to rescue him by telling Sophia her services won't be needed. And then they go on about their mission.

Why Caleb froze so badly, I can only make guesses. It could've been that it felt weird because he is married, his pretend-wife is literally standing 6 feet away, this other host is not actually conscious so the only reason she's doing this is because she's programmed to, and beyond that funny business is probably the last thing on his mind at a time like this.

Caleb helps Maeve fasten a shoulder cape on her dress as a finishing touch to her 'fit, and Sophia checks in to finalize their wardrobe.

SOPHIA: One last touch. (She pushes two sliding doors aside, revealing a selection of black and white hats in popular styles inspired by the 1920s) Which do you prefer? CALEB: Never really been much of a hat guy.

Nothing gets me quite like Maeve rolling her eyes at the presentation of the hats, but also - she smiles when Caleb declines to pick any of them. What a good man, what a smart one. She was so proud of him for that, not buying into the heroes & villains, good & bad schtick.

The train pulls into the station and they disembark, stepping into The Golden Age, a 1920s-Chicago mob-inspired knockoff of Westworld.

… To be continued in PART 3 which should cover episodes 4.03 - Années Folles & the linear portions of 4.04 - Generation Loss.

[maevesque]

Maeve was anything but convinced, her eyes gazing out to the distance where Caleb had appeared from. Albeit, she appeared to be occupied by something else when he arrived, she knew the direction he came from, aside from being the forest as well. Did Caleb know that she was near there?

Maybe not.

She figured she had left before he could sense someone's presence, or even hers.

"The forest, hm? Took a stroll without me?" She teased, and there was no hint of disappointment nor anything that would coin her as upset.

Then shook her head, her eyes scanned the premises as her silver gaze landed on the movie theaters not too far ahead. "Nope, even the trailers for other movies haven't started yet."

Besides, she wouldn't have watched it by herself, even if Caleb took longer. She only wanted to go with Caleb, not without. These circumstances, however, taking him away from her at any moment's noticed irked her to no ends, and she can see the male's face twisted in fear, the bravado stripped away by the power Caleb held in his Evol.

She giggled at his little quip, begrudgingly licking the rest of the bitter crimson on her thumb before she walked over to a nearby food stand to snag a some napkins, wiping off her thumb with a scrunch of her nose at the distaste before returning back to Caleb's side.

"Call it bloodlust," she whispered, reaching out to tug on his shirt, bringing the male closer to her, her eyes taking a quick look at his attire, and ensuring no more traces of his kill was present. "But that didn't do much, next time, be careful. It was only noticeable being close to you," she continued, leaning in to place a kiss onto his cheek, her lipstick faintly transferring to the skin, over the area where she saw the blood stain.

Then, she watched as he kissed the inside of her wrist. Her heartbeat began racing just by the simple action, her cheeks heating up slightly, her blush a little more prominent than needed. Yet, she didn't pull away, she simply stared.

Captivated.

Maeve would bury a body if not for the help of Caleb's Evol. She would do anything to rid his tracks or blood, hold him like he is the most precious thing in her universe she could ever live without.

She listened intently, watching his expression, everything around them began to blur. Her only clearest vision was the man before him. She had seen what transpired in the forest, she knew of the blood on his hands only she and him can see, visible in their eyes and transparent to others. And they never had her running away from him.

In fact, it made her run to him instead.

"It's easy. When you adore someone, and want to be with them," she spoke softly, leaning up to press her forehead against his forehead a brief moment. "You accept them for who they are, what they are." She whispered and took his hand, bringing it to her lips as she gently placed a kiss onto his palm.

"It's not about withstanding, it's simply willing to be next to you, no matter how dark the path may be or will become." She said as her fingers slipped between his, her head tilting to meet with his beautiful amethyst eyes.

"Because I want all of you. The good, the bad, the pretty, and the ugly. Do you understand that now?" She laughed softly, tugging him over towards the theater, "the only way I'll stay away from you is if someone locked me in a room with no way to escape." She scoffed, her eyes gazing up at the list of movies now showing.

"Of course, I'll never make it easy for anyone. No one could ever take me away from you, not if I can make their life a living hell for having the gall for trying to do so."

Once his business was done, he made his way back as quickly as possible, of course not wholly empty-handed. He picked up a smoothie along the way -- albeit it had melted just a bit in his actions of getting them back as fast as possible.

"Yeah, I took a quick trip through the forest before headin' back. Hope you didn't see the movie without me," He says, a playful smile on his face, addressing the last comment she made to him before they had separated.

That same smile faltering slightly as Maeve wiped the blood from his cheek, his violet eyes studying her carefully. For a moment, he melted. Her touch being all that anchored him, pulling him from the haze of exhaustion.

A brief moment of solace that overshadowed the events that had transpired just minutes ago, easing the guilt that came with the paper-thin lie he'd given her once again—one she easily saw through. A few times had been enough, but with how frequently it was happening, Caleb couldn’t help but feel the weight of it all. Still, if the lies kept her at a safe distance from any chance of getting hurt, then they were worth it. As long as she accepted them, he’d continue to play along in their shared ignorance.

He stood before her, watching as she licked the blood from her thumb, her expression momentarily wrinkling in distaste. Though soft and laced with hidden meaning, her words cut through the silence. 'Bitter...' she mumbled, but he knew it wasn’t just the taste. It was a hint delivered in a way only Maeve could.

“You’ve got an odd way of sampling things, Rose..” he quipped, though his heart wasn’t fully in it. Maeve’s words had a way of piercing through him in ways most couldn’t. He always sensed the deeper meaning behind her actions, even when they danced around it. Even in his darkest moments, she was there—her hand always extended, always there to save him. She was the light that shone even in his deepest darkness.

“Unlike mine, huh?” he echoed her words softly, his eyes searching her face, looking for signs of what she truly meant. That boyish grin appears on his face as he tries to mask the heavy tension. He let out a low chuckle, more so to ease the tension he felt bubbling up inside. There was no way she could hide the fact that she had seen what had happened. He didn’t need to ask, though. The look in her eyes said enough. She knew what he’d done, and, more importantly, she hadn’t stopped him. There had been nothing left but a blood smear. A smear she’d instantly rid him of.

His accomplice.

Caleb’s grin faded, replaced by something more real, more vulnerable. He took a step closer to her, his fingers brushing against her wrist, feeling the warmth of her pulse beneath his skin. He took the moment and gently kissed the inside, cradling it as if it were the rope tethering him to the moment. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. At least for now, this was their moment. Their date could carry on without the threat of danger. The threat of death. The threat of losing one another.

His eyes slowly opened, and his gaze fell on her once more. “I don’t know how you do it,” he said quietly, the weight of his earlier actions creeping back in. “You withstand all of this... all of me...”

He hesitated, voice lowering than a whisper. “You remind me, time and again, that I need you... as much.” Maybe more.

[saphirered]

Hello hello, my fave CritRole writer! I am always so happy to see you on my feed 🥰

I'm caught in the feels with campaign 2 atm - may I please request a Caleb Widogast x reader (gender neutral or fem please!), where instead of Yasha asking Caleb "do you love her [Jester]?", it's the reader instead? And Caleb is shocked for a moment thinking his crush on the reader was too obvious but it's just a misunderstanding?

Maybe a proper confession...

Or mayhaps a kith 👉👈👀

Again I love your stuff and know how much work goes into it all, so take your time or feel free to leave this idea alone 😊

Turning it into a two-parter for ease of reading. Pt2; confession&kith. For now enjoy this first bit with some angst, wholesomeness and more angst. Enjoy! 😘

Caleb lies on his side, curled up near the edge of the dome, staring out through the night watching the flashes of light in the distance, listening to the sounds of the rain pelting against the ground. No matter how calming the sound around him might be he does not find sleep. Not after that conversation. Then again, it wasn’t the conversation that would bring him this sleepless night. It’s something else entirely. He can’t shake it. He doubts even if he found sleep he’d get a decent rest. Instead he sees his dreams be turned to nightmares, painful reminders, over and over again. He’d be faced with his demons. He meant what he said to the barbarian; he’s better around them all, but he doesn’t deserve them. Not after everything he’s done. He doesn’t deserve them, and he certainly doesn’t deserve you. The words echo again, replay in his head.

“Do you love them?” Yasha asked. He froze, caught off-guard for a brief moment, his defences trying to compensate. Was it truly so obvious? As a master of bottling up his feelings, did someone figure it out, figure him out? 

“Who?” Caleb asked somewhat choked, the facade fails him, defences go up but masks comes off and so there’s only a creature that won’t compute, thoughts do not match up, instincts to run and hide from confrontation, from being exposed and worst of all; being vulnerable in such a way rise but he stayed. He tried to put the mask back on.

“I don’t need to tell you who.” Yasha’s eyes darted towards you. She sees him as is. She watched him struggle. “I’m sorry. I- As someone who has lost someone that they love very much, I know how important it is to say things before it’s too late.” Caleb dared follow her eyes to you. Your features; peaceful, brow slightly furrowed, but body relaxed. You’re curled up wrapped your arms around yourself and knees tucked up. He couldn’t fight the easy smile pulling at the corners of his lips sneaking on. That smile was overwhelmed by a sadness. 

“It’s too late, Yasha. It’s too late.” Caleb whispered not sure if he was trying to tell himself that, the barbarian or maybe just speak it into existence so it might be true because he doesn’t know if he can handle the alternative. 

“Maybe not. I don’t know.” He dares not pretend to understand what the woman went through, or why it feels her words are genuine, coming from someone who has lived this reality, one he is choosing rather than having the opportunity being taken away from him. Instead of a reply, a counter argument he knows holds no weight, he patted her hand and curled up himself. 

The conversation ended there, but still it replays over and over and over. It’s driving him mad. ‘Do you love them?’ Does he love you? Of course he does. He’s not felt anything so real in a long time. Not since- he dares not let his mind wander that far. But he is not deserving of the happiness that comes with love, nor does he think he’s ready for the heartache that comes with this life, that comes with his life catching up to him when he can’t run from the demons anymore. He refuses to let you drag yourself into that. You’d go above and beyond for your friends. You’ll put your life on the line for those you love, and if he might be so bold to say; he’s afraid of how far you might go for someone you love more than a friend. He can’t bare the thought of you facing his demons, risking your life for him because knowing how powerful they are, he will not be able to watch you be turned to embers. He won’t watch you burn like he’s seen everything once good in his life burn. No more. No matter how much it pains him, he’ll pull through. 

What Caleb doesn’t know; you’ve been having your own issues with your nighttime routine and sleep has not come easy to you for a while, not with the pressure of events, not with all that’s going on and how royally messed up your lives are about to take a turn. You’re standing on the brink of war, disaster, wrath and ruin of things more powerful that you and your friends. You won’t pretend that doesn’t weigh on you. You won’t pretend these facts do not haunt your dreams and plague your waking mind. Sometimes you’ll wake from dreams in the middle of the night. You’ll keep your eyes closed because you can’t simply face your friends and look upon their faces at peace, knowing not how much time you’ll have left with them, how long before those faces will turn to horror and pain, how long before they’ll be faced with struggles and impossible decisions.  You can’t- You just can’t. 

But by staying awake, even when you’re about to doze off, you can feel eyes on you, you can hear the hushed words, and conversations of others. You usually tune them out but this one remains etched in your brain. You can’t turn yourself away from it. You feel their eyes on you, hear the words; do you love them? You don’t know why but you feel yourself staring fondly at a broken mirror of what might have been was this world different, were your lives so different. 

“It’s too late, Yasha. It’s too late.” The words sound pained and echo in your head. What mirror might be broken shatters yet still you find yourself worshipping the shards, still your smile fondly at that destroyed reflection well aware it can never be. It can never be. Or can it? Either way sleep doesn’t find you. The rumbling thunder in the distance, does nothing to ease your mind. You dare open your eyes. You don’t know how much time has passed but the barbarian had gone off to sleep again, so you’re not frightened to expose yourself and your involuntary eavesdropping. 

A purple coat rises and falls with the wizard’s breathing. No matter the blanket around him, he still shivers as if cold. Opposite, you find yourself burning from within, all too warm. You push your blanket back and watch Caleb’s breathing. It doesn’t even out like that of a sleeping form would but it does calm. You pull free from your blanket, and rise to your feet, it in your hands, carefully stepping over bodies until you kneel near where Caleb’s back is turned to you. You pull the fabric over him, up to his shoulders. He freezes, the shuddering stops too, if only for a brief second. Bright blue eyes meet yours as he looks over his shoulder. You force a smile down at him and go to rise but a near silent ‘wait’ reaches your ears. You halt. He turns to his back, hand grasping the one nearest to him, and he offers a light squeeze in thanks. You smile and nod, sitting down where you kneeled. His skin feels so cold against yours. Normally you’d expected him to be able to warm himself up, as Caleb is known to do sometimes with but a small flame. It’s then you realise this is silent suffering; repenting for what he thinks he deserves and evening the balance for what he thinks he doesn’t. 

No words will convince the wizard how wrong he is, how he is deserving. He carries too many scars, has suffered too much. There will be no convincing him otherwise until he is ready to admit to himself, despite hardships, despite everything he belongs exactly where he is; with the Nein, with you. But no spell or potion can heal this pain, only time can. Time will heal these wounds but that doesn’t mean he has to do it alone. You’ll be there for him. Even if he says; it can never be. Even if it is too late. Maybe it’s not. Caleb has faced many words of deceit. Words only mean so much. You don’t say anything. Not when you clasp his cold hand between your warm ones. Not when you lay down beside him, and pull his hand close to your chest, hold on tight. Not when you give him a look that can only be described as compassion, kindness and kinship; understanding even if you don’t know all the details. You don’t need to. He watches you. Tries to decipher, see any deceit or falsehoods but he doesn’t. He accepts your gesture with a hold equally tight and grounding, turns back on his side, but this time the one facing you. Your eyes meet, and slowly, the sleep that neither of you could find, finally approaches, eyes heavy, until they close. 

————

The hag’s cottage. Every bit as ominous as it is interesting. It radiates magic, signifying the presence of the hag that lives there; the one that holds many deals and many favours. A terrifying prospect. And so she also holds in her hands the fate of your goblin friend. Nothing comes for free, so much is known. Your knowledge might be limited but you know hags are not always evil, even if they are twisted, and Isharnai seems no exception. Fjord went in first who managed to gather some information. Beau went next. She did glean some more and while it took some convincing, the Nein managed to convince her to tell what she offered the hag in return for the lifting of the curse on Nott. You got some further insights in how to play this game. You owe it to your friend to reunite her with her family, you agree with Beau on that sentiment but you also know she’s offered too great a price, for herself. It’s not an equal trade necessarily and the hag would definitely get the better side of that deal. While Yasha has entered the cottage, you tell them you’ll go next and so you wait in anticipation, clear your thought and up every defence you can muster to face this next danger. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Caleb approaches you off to the side, in a way the others won’t overhear even though you’d still be within sight. He worries. He worries for you. Sure he’s been making his own plan and figuring out what to offer because if this creature thrives on misery, he’s got plenty to pass around. He’d offer it all in a heartbeat but he’d also play his cards right to make sure he gains what he can too. He knows the stories of hags well. Perhaps it is hypocritical of him to think you shouldn’t put yourself on the line. Perhaps it is that love for you showing through once more in every way he’s tried to keep under lock and key. He doesn’t care. Right now his main concern is your safety and he won’t let you put your future on the line. 

“Doing what needs to be done.” That’s all you say. No further explanation, no excuses as of why. Just that. 

“There’s other ways. You don’t need to go in there-“ Caleb tries to counter in the hopes to dissuade you from your current path. 

“If there was another way, you’d already shared it and we wouldn’t be here, would we?” You may have sounded a bit harsh, and regret losing control of your nerves when you see his face, see the pain in his eyes at your response and the step back he takes. Normally you’d apologise. Normally you’d say you didn’t mean it, and it’s just been the stress of it all, you’d tell him he didn’t deserve to be the victim of your feelings. Normally Caleb would accept that apology. He’d tell you that stress can cloud our judgement, that it happens to the best of us. He’d even get over his own constraints and offer you comfort in the form of an embrace and tell you all will be well. Not this time. Not now. Instead you’re met with a quiet rage, a calm before the storm. 

“If you want to throw your life away like that, then be my guest. I won’t stop you.” Caleb turns on his heels, and leaves you standing there. He doesn’t look back, not like he usually would when you had a dispute. 

When the door opens and out Yasha steps, you take a deep breath and walk up, cross paths with the barbarian. You dare throw a glance over your shoulders and find Caleb’s eyes. Though he remains stoic and distant, you can see through the mask; he begs you not to. You feel his eyes linger even when you turn your gaze back to the cottage. Before you step through the doorway, once more you look over your shoulders. He’s taken a singles step forward, hand slightly raised from his side but he doesn’t move further, not as if you can see because the cottage door is slammed closed behind you and you’re left alone with the hag. Your turn to bargain. The hag offers you plenty, aside from the breaking of the curse, at a steep price too, you’re well aware. You might be in more than you bargained for but this isn’t a bargain, is it, this is a trade, one misery for another. 

Frozen to the ground the minutes pass. The others talk about what they might offer, or have offered, strategise, ready to kill the hag. Caleb finds himself wishing he could get rid of the unrest in his limbs, feels the urge to pace but he can’t move his feet. He stands there stuck. He can’t turn away from the cottage, not while you’re still in there. Every second longer makes him more anxious. He repeats his last interaction with you. Maybe he didn’t approach you right. He did so out of anger at how easily you would walk in there, offering gods know what. He doesn’t want you to lose anything, he doesn’t want you to offer whatever misery you might endure at the hands of this hag. Yours should not be a life of misfortunes. You’ve suffered enough. You deserve better. You deserve so much better. He’d do anything to make sure you’d get it. 

Five minutes and twenty-three seconds pass until the door opens once more. You walk out head held high. The moment you step out Jester rushes past you and enters before anyone can stop her. As the door slams closed you jump, your shoulders sink. The false confidence you previously exerted is gone and your chin lowers. You look exhausted, more so mentally than physically. Something is wrong, he’s sure when you don’t meet his eyes. You brush off whatever questions the others direct at you, trying to find out what you offered but unlike Beauregard you’re a much tougher nut to crack. Still the Nein seem determined and so Caleb is the one to tell them to back off, leave you alone. For but a fraction of a second he meets your eyes and sees you take in a shaky breath. You ball your hands into fists to stop them from shaking with whatever stress or adrenaline might pump through your veins as you collect yourself. You not only ignore but avoid his presence. 

None of this goes addressed. Jester leaves the cottage urging the Nein to leave expediently. The curse on Nott is lifted. That’s all that matters for now and the how’s will be explained once you’re all a safe distance away from the place. Caleb tries to stick somewhat near you to keep tabs on you. Your breath of relief when Jester said what she did does not go unnoticed to him. What did you offer? Given the circumstances he doesn’t feel right to ask and he doesn’t but you make sure to leave an arm’s length between the two of you at all times. Why? Caleb wonders. What did the hag say to you to cause this sudden distance? Or was it his words to you before you walked through that doorway? He tries to discern and it just leaves him more confused, with more questions that go unanswered. Shame. Guilt. Regret. Why do you feel these things? Why are they written across his features and why is it not his own mind that tells him to keep his distance? Why are you staying away on his behalf? Why remove yourself from his presence like you do now where you normally weren’t a stranger to seek comfort when he offered. He left the door open for you but you did not come to him. Instead you walked away. 

[aboardthehavocmarauder]

A “Replacement”?

The Bad Batch x Reader (Platonic) • They/Them Pronouns • Utility!Reader • ANGST/SFW • Canon bits

Requested by: Anon

The story has been told a lot. Either it be a couple or a group of mischiefs finding an abandoned orphan and taking it in as it’s own…or a billionaire taking on multiple and training them to beco—-Wrong universe but the story has been told a lot that you can learn a lot with just the spark notes.

Y/N was found by the bad batch on a distress call in Tatooine. The batch not wanting to leave the child and inevitably growing attached, made things difficult regarding the Kaminoans. But once discovering a few things about the kid, they have become of use but more so forming domestic properties in the bad batch while the child gained few of their perspective skills. Y/N has been with the batch since before Echo and when Echo joined, he instantly bonded.

Now we’re faced with this situation…

“…C-Crosshair” Y/N stood between the sniper and the padawan as they held their hands out before them knowing what they’ll have to do if he tries anything.

Instead of a knock to the head or a talking to, Crosshair dropped his sniper when the tears started rolling off Y/N’s cheeks. He froze and felt like he just did what he wasn’t supposed to do. He wasn’t controlling himself in that moment until they broke down before him.

“Kid…I-I…”

Caleb couldn’t stand there for much longer and had to jump across the ravine to save his own life. While Hunter catches up to the two finding Y/N balling as Cross broke the space between them engulfing them in his embrace.

“I’m sorry…I-I’m so s-sorry…” Crosshair held onto them like he’d explode if separated.

The flight to Kamino was quiet as Y/N kept their distance for a moment from the others. More felt something more was wrong. They calmed down since the incident with Crosshair, but the tears still threatened to fall.

“Little one”

Y/N swiveled the gunner’s seat a bit to find Hunter climbing up to join them. They held Lula and had one of Tech’s blankets wrapped around their shoulders. But of course he didn’t come to ruin their comfy bundled self, only to make sure that they still weren’t upset over what happened with Crosshair.

“I’m fine.”

“You have said that so many times that it’s not even a phrase anymore. Y/N…is something else wrong? You’re heart rate hasn’t calmed down since we got back aboard”

“…That kid. The Jedi. I…I could’ve. It could’ve been way worse than what had happened…” They turned away to keep their tears to themselves when Hunter wasn’t going to take that. He got up entirely and picked up the kid carrying them in the blanket with Lula in hand, heading out of the gunners seat and taking the seat at the work bench.

Hunter got comfortable before letting Y/N adjust all they want to be in his embrace laying against him.

“Nothing will ever happen to you, as long as I’m here”

Arriving to Kamino was welcoming? More so the bad batch being requested by Tarkin and the curious child following the main research scientist to come watch the six at work.

“Promise me, you won’t show anything during this mock mission. We can’t have you taken away from us. Okay?” Tech waited for Y/N to nod as he felt reassured enough before putting his helmet back on opening his pack for them to put a few questionable things in the bag. They watched him lock it to reassure them and that’s when the hatch opened lifting them.

Nala Se watched carefully from the gallery which peaked Omega’s other interest. Being Y/N. The only non clone in the bunch. But the way she could read the Kaminoans better than most, drew her curiosity in.

When the robots turned off the stun and started to show some real damage, Y/N got knocked off their feet and dragged against the metal floor by one of the brute builds. Wrecker immediately taking action when Y/N felt the ground tear at their skin making them react in a way Tech didn’t want them to.

“Who is that officer?”

“Not an officer. Y/F/N Y/L/N was a rescue. Clone Force 99 acts as their guardians. “Dads” in layman’s terms. Or how they would put it when talking during reports. They are fascinating and know each of their skills. Plus a few more added bonuses” Nala Se reports handing Tarkin the file they have on Y/N as Omega approached the glass closer to watch Wrecker quickly cover the kid while Crosshair took down the final bot.

“Come on lovebug. Let’s get you to the medbay” Echo helps Y/N to their feet as he gave a quick glance to the viewing room and his anxiety got the best of him. “I’m not leaving them” he tells the others when Tarkin asked over the intercom to meet with the bad batch.

“Go ahead Echo. We’ll meet you there once we are done” Hunter lead the rest as Echo was now glued to Y/N the second they started to move.

———

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

The little one kept their distance from Echo since he’s new and they haven’t warmed up yet. But they had just watched Hunter get shot down and as the others took care of getting him to the medbay, Echo stayed behind in the marauder with Y/N.

“It’s okay you know…he’s okay”

“…o-okay”

“Y/N…” Echo knelt down beside them minding their space and his sudden drop given he’s almost mainly metal. “It’s okay if you’re not okay. You can say that. You can say your worries. Fears. Everything. None of us are going to shun you or make your feelings not valid.”

“I…” Y/N uncurled but the tears were more noticeable. “I can’t lose anyone anymore…I-I can’t”

Echo gently wipes away the tears he caught as Y/N let him without retracting immediately. They continued to ball and eventually end up in Echo’s protective embrace.

______

“We are grabbing Omega and leaving as soon as possible. None of this is right. And I’m not working for no empire.”

“Agreed. But the second we land. We are putting few of us at risk. The Kaminoans know that Crosshair’s chip can still be manipulated and used in their favor. Or more so Tarkin’s. And the same goes for Y/N but in more ways than one. We can’t risk either of them being taken in any way”

“So what do you suggest Tech? They have infrared scanners and they’ll know that the two are on the ship once only four of us exit”

“Then. We make sure neither of them get separated from the rest of us” Echo interrupts as they have arrived back to Kamino.

Then it…sort of went down hill since containment.

When the field opened to the cell and the shock troopers forced Crosshair out. That’s when Y/N didn’t care who was watching and literally brought themselves through forcing the ones holding him to hit the sides of the hallway. But they were then shot by the one trooper that was manning the control panel. Which lead to Wrecker not giving any more damns and rushing in to take care of the rest of the shock troopers as Hunter immediately picks up Y/N trying to keep himself level headed even if his kid was bleeding.

“Follow us Omega. We’ll head to the hanger and quickly get out of there” Tech took lead as Hunter’s silence started to drive some of them insane.

“Did they wake yet?” Echo asks as Hunter shook his head before handing them off to Wrecker once they reached the hanger.

“Get inside and Echo jam the hanger door” Hunter orders as the two did what needed to be done. Crosshair suddenly picks up Omega once she grabbed Lula and tossed her into the Marauder.

Crosshair retrieved his and Wrecker’s gear before boarding the ship while Hunter and Tech took care of their own. Echo ran back getting his and Y/N’s when the doors were blasted open with a thermite.

“TECH” Hunter yells once everyone was secured on the marauder to get them out of there.

Once they were in the clear for now, Omega found curiosity in the space before her. She sat in the co-pilots seat with Hunter standing behind her enjoying her wonderment with his brothers beside him minus Crosshair who kept his distance while also being close to Y/N when they woke.

It wasn’t until the group reached Saleucami when Suu got to take a look at what happened.

______

“You kidnapped a child”

“We didn’t kidnap a child! Well. Okay at first yes. But now it’s more so…the kaminoans know we can be humane on tougher missions?!” Hunter explains while his anxieties got the best of him since he risked the squadron’s position and Cut’s by being in a deserter’s safe house but also for the fact that he and his brothers don’t exactly know how to take care of a young kid.

“Well, what’s the problem then?”

“Y/N is sick and we don’t know what to do”

Suu quickly glares at Cut as he only gave her a smile in response. Next thing you know, Y/N was moved from the bunk in the Marauder to the hammock in their home letting them be bundled and cared for while the batch made a risky decision letting them take care of Y/N while they finished a mission.

When the little one woke to no one and nobody, they started to worry and tear up. But was immediately met with a gentle hand resting on their forehead.

“They’ll be back, lovely. You’re safe”

Y/N frowns adjusting a bit in the hammock only to to find Lula logged between them and the sling. Wrecker would always leave Lula with them no matter what situation.

______

Now it just stung more

Y/N woke up to their shirt missing and replaced with a bandage that wrapped their chest then over their left shoulder. They felt around the bed they were laid in and didn’t find Lula. Their anxiety got the best of them as they brought themselves out of the bed grabbing the clothes left for them to dress and meet with the commotion outside.

Omega had just had the encounter with the beast and was scowled by Hunter, before being reassured and reminded that she is okay. The look Hunter gave her, didn’t mean to hurt Y/N this much.

Before they could make their presence known themselves, both Crosshair and Echo spotted the kid standing by the house in a loose tank to avoid snagging the bandages with a grayish red poncho over it all. They didn’t have their boots on just the socks that went a bit over their pants. Regardless. They had woken up and didn’t feel the need to put shoes on. Nor watch them no longer be of main concern…at least to a few.

“You should still be laying down, but thank maker you finally woke up. It’s been a few days kid” Cross frowns, keeping a close look at their hands and how they kept gripping their wrists too tight. “Y/N…are you in there?”

“Are you still in pain?” Echo asks noticing the same thing as he carefully took one of their hands to knock them out of their own mind. “You don’t have to be verbal, lovebug. We just need something to know you’re okay”

Y/N nods, and only agreed, to everything Echo asked. Knowing Crosshair wasn’t buying the fact that they weren’t in any pain that when the night rolled in, he woke up from his bunk after taking a shift to watch the Marauder to the sound of wincing when Y/N tried to climb onto the top bunk.

“You are a challenge. Come on. Take mine if you’re going to insi—“ Crosshair stopped when Y/N did and look at him with tear filled eyes as he stopped saying anything more that night.

Crosshair took the only pillows from the marauder and made a pile for Y/N to lean against in the bunk as he laid beside them.

“You guys don’t like me anymore…” They suddenly sprung up as Cross waited for anything more. “The second I felt uneasy when returning to Kamino the first time, I knew everything would change…and everything did. Im just. A reg. Who’s force sensitive. Da…Tech told me to not show it or I would be killed. So I’m normal…in kamino standards until I broke out and almost got killed. I should’ve….just not woken up”

“Woah. Stop it” Crosshair quickly sat up turning to Y/N. “You can’t say that. Shits different now. I know you wanted to call us dad the entire war and everybody wanted you not to to keep you safe. But again. Shits different and as much as the galaxy is still a dumpster fire. You’re my kid. I would’ve fucking stolen the marauder and crashed it into wherever Tarkin is if I lost you. I would be devastated.” Crosshair held their face wiping away the tears that fell.

“I’m just a flight risk…” Y/N cries as Crosshair had enough of this as he readjusted them to be in his wrapped embraced keeping in mind the injuries they still held.

“I don’t care. I won’t let anything happen to you” Cross whispers holding them close to his person staring out into the rest of the ship spotting Tech who held their first aid kit in case Y/N wandered in here in pain. He gave Cross a worried look reading his body language and the look in his eyes before pushing the kit aside and sitting down to be present in case of anything.

“…Im ok Te….dad” Y/N gripped onto Cross tighter as Tech immediately looked over and got up to bring himself closer to them resting his hand on their back rubbing soothing circles.

______

Tech readied his blaster when the silence was interrupted by a metallic drop, and when he quickly turned the pilot seat aiming his gun he watched Y/N drop their glass.

“Oh, love I’m sorry” He frowns putting his gun away as he quickly got up from his seat to pick up their glass setting it on the counter before picking up Y/N suddenly. “Come on. You can hang out with me”

Didn’t take long for Hunter to look for Y/N and only to find them comfortably on the pilot seat wrapped in Tech’s and Cross’s blanket. While holding a small tool kit for the analyst under the control panel.

“Don’t stay up too late” Hunter whispers to Y/N gently petting their head before returning to his bunk.

______

“Y/N…are you okay?”

The chips activated in Crosshair and Wrecker. Thankfully Rex had stunned Crosshair after he managed to knock Echo off his feet along with Y/N when they tried to cover him and Hunter. Then went for Wrecker when he followed Omega. But the event stung.

“Yeah. Why, Omega?”

“You haven’t spoken to Crosshair or really any of them after what happened. They are accessing the ship we are in for anything that could help us…we could be of help”

“We? Just go. You can go help them. I don’t…I don’t want to see any of them right now and I really…really don’t want to see you” Y/N hissed at Omega as they quickly left the ship before she could even say another word.

“Need some help?”

Tech pushes himself out from under the panel finding Omega. “If you Uhm. Don’t mind finding—“

“They don’t seem to like me so I’d…appreciate it if I can just…” Omega frowns as Tech nods gesturing to his tool box to be brought over and for her to join him in connecting a few wires.

Wrecker was scavenging the ship yard as he stopped to the sound of anger and distress. He quickly approached and draws his gun in addition. He didn’t need it and should’ve have held his weapon out because the tear stained cheeks and tired stance from his kid only made him feel awful for thinking it was an enemy. Y/N suddenly forced Wrecker back when a piece of rubble they had forced above a few miles up had finally fell. He walked around it to find Y/N now sitting on the ground holding their legs close to their chest letting the tears continue to fall.

“…I wouldn’t have let that fallen on you. You’re our little firecracker. We can’t lose you” Wrecker may not always know what’s happening always, nor would any of them go to him first. But he knows how they are feeling through the body language and they were not okay.

Wrecker held Y/N for what felt like an eternity. They didn’t want to move and he didn’t want to let go.

•

“WE NEED TO GET OMEGA”

“We’ve opened all the channels and are tracking any ship within radius that the Marauder can track.” Echo informs. “And one of the channels is checking every address of any open channel within radius. We followed as much as we could and only following what we can”

“All we can do is hope now” Y/N states getting up from their seat as Hunter grabs their arm suddenly before they could go to the back.

“Please, kid. Do what you can”

“Hunter. Follow our protocol. Don’t force our kid to do anything they don’t want to. Especially with the force” Crosshair bites, not giving a single damn if Hunter is reacting to his injury and the bounty hunter that took Omega.

“She’s being hunted. By not one. But two bounty hunters and all we can do is find her and protect her from all that can happen.” Hunter tells Crosshair as the second Y/N pulled away and he quickly stood to give them his entire attention. “Please. The force is only traceable by other force users. You can do your best to find her and bring her back to us”

Y/N blankly stares at Hunter and didn’t say another word as they walked past him to retrieve their noise cancelling headphones from Echo. Then move to the storage compartment to lock themselves in there uninterrupted.

To them it didn’t take long for Omega to find the open channel and for them to find their location.

Once Omega returned to the comforts of the Marauder and the child finally got some rest after what happened…Hunter sat in the co-pilot chair while Y/N took the pilots. The two sat in silence for a while before one decided to speak up.

“I’m going to stay with Cid while you six take on her jobs.”

“What? No. I don’t approve of this”

“I’m old enough to make my own decisions and when the fuck did you start to care again?”

“What do you mean, kid? I’ve always cared. You’re also always going to be my kid. I don’t want you to stay with Cid and then eventually run off to wander the galaxy alone. You were alone when we found you. We’re not going to force you back to that”

“Stop saying we when it’s you that has changed” Y/N snaps. “You don’t talk to me. We don’t train anymore. Hell you don’t even give me the time of fucking day anymore. If you say I’m your fucking kid, I sure as hell don’t feel that way. I’m just. No. Omega replaced me. And not because of the shiny and new aspect. But because Omega is special. Wanted. Needs to be protected. She’s smart as hell. Knows how to act in certain situations. She can help herself and she’s amazing. I’m just me. I had to be trained and it comes naturally to her. Even this force shit isn’t interesting. I’m not good at it and I certainly didn’t fucking want it”

“…what do you want me to say kid…” Hunter pushes the chair to face him seeing Y/N pull their legs to their chest immediately. “Omega is Omega. And you are you. But we picked you. Out of everybody in the galaxy. Not to be a part of a team. We raised you and the kaminoans helped up until the point of the war. Then we did everything we could to keep them away from you. As much as the Kaminoans want Omega. They want you to because even if you’re not a part of the council and you’re not part of the bad. Someone would come after you once we part. So no. I’m not letting you separate from us for anything. You’re my kid. You’re my family and I’m not letting anyone hurt you in any way.”

“I’m still mad…and jealous. You’re not getting my forgiveness that easily”

“Well. I’m willing to wait a lifetime for it and I’m not going to stop taking care of you”

“Hunter…”

“Yes?”

“Please don’t scare me like that again…”

“I promise”

[naz-ulusoy]

Naz had thought her dream had been just that, it wasn't until she heard the gossip in the office that she realised the spirit's had been playing around. The dream spirit's had been enjoying themselves far too much lately. It wasn't a very offensive or worrisome dream, just something sweet for the holiday so she thought very little about it.

Or she thought she had. Seeing Caleb's name on her phone made her recall the valentine's gift an awkward teenage Caleb had given her. She was going to leave that in the dream world because if she thought about it too much, she was going to give herself a complex about her silly crush on the alpha. Instead, she replied quickly and agreed to meet.

On Sunday morning, she was grateful she didn't have to attend the class, preferring not to look like a sweaty mess every time they met. She saw Caleb from a block away, watching the tall wolf tower over most people walking by. The alpha didn't need to call out but his tone made her pause before closing the distance between them, deciding not to shout back.

"Hey," she greeted, her brow furrowing in confusion. Why was he nervous? Great, now why was she nervous? "Is something wrong?" she asked, wondering if that was why Caleb wanted to meet. Maybe it was a council thing or species thing. "Is it about the dream spirit's? I'm sorry if it caused you any issues."

sunday | naz & caleb

for: @naz-ulusoy location: a yoga studio on holy island

Caleb had the most curious dream recently. One where he was a student in a high school surrounded by a number of other people in the supernatural community. He had heard that others experienced the same dream too and wondered if this was a repeat of that time when they collectively dreamed about being human as well. Those dream spirits really were working overtime these days...

That dream and who Caleb was in it did give him plenty of food for thought though, especially when it came to Naz. The way he interacted with her had been laughably embarrassing, even for someone like Caleb who often missed social cues on the daily. Who in the world gave someone candy and called it a reward? Especially when it was someone they were developing feelings for?

The werewolf knew that he had to rectify the situation and sent Naz a text to meet up on the weekend. And with a box of elaborately decorated cupcakes in tow, he stood outside and waited for Naz's arrival at the yoga studio on Holy Island.

"Hi," he called out and waved a bit awkwardly when he saw her appear down the street. Was that really all he was going to say?

[ethereousdelirious]

Idk why I didn't publish this on the 17th, but here's "syncope" featuring Ca.leb Wido.gast, no content warnings, no ship

Caleb's coat sat in a misshapen heap on the cart, his books tucked underneath. It was simply too hot to risk the contact; even now, sweat dripped down his back and sides. His skin crawled with it and even the breeze was insultingly warm. He kept his gaze fixed on his coat, head throbbing with each weighty footfall. Keep walking. He just had to keep walking.

The wagon wheels crunch over the dry ground, kicking up dust that mingled with the sweat on his hands, coating them in a layer of grime. It scraped across his skin when he wiped the sweat out of his eyes. They stung. The wagon wheels rolled. Caleb walked.

Every now and then, his heart spasmed in a strange, unfamiliar rhythm or missed a beat entirely and his lungs seized up in visceral panic. He watched his coat. There was no point in asking for a break. The only thing worse than walking in this heat would be not walking in it, because that would be a few more minutes down the line that they'd be stuck in it.

But it was tempting.

Walking was mild exertion on all but the very worst of days, and this was not one of those. He had slept soundly, eaten well. He had no injuries to speak of. And yet. He couldn't breathe. His breath caught against the edge of his throat, eliciting a quiet wheeze with every labored inhale. Silver dots blossomed and dissipated at the edges of his vision and the brown smudge of his coat wavered in front of his eyes. His heart trembled rather than beat and the slow grind of the wagon wheels in the dirt filled his head. His hands shook as chills raced up his spine. He took a step and his knee buckled before catching and dragging his weight forward again.

Something wasn't right.

"A- A moment," Caleb managed in Common, turning to look at whoever was nearest. He couldn't remember who had been walking by him. The vertigo kept up and he stumbled, reaching out to catch himself and finding nothing.

--

Tieflings handled the heat better than most, a fact for which Mollymauk was extremely grateful at the moment. He had stripped down to his shirt mostly for the novelty of it, and made a point of not skipping around after it had become clear that the others hadn't found it very funny. He busied himself instead by watching them in their varying degrees of misery and stoicism. Even after the complaining had petered off to the sound of panting and the occasional groan, everyone seemed fine, though not fine enough to stomach his teasing.

And they had carried on like that, Molly watching them in turns as they trudged along under the beating sun. Monotonous moments passed in footfalls and heavy sighs, the drudgery only broken when Caleb shuddered as though in a blizzard. He mumbled something, clutching feebly at his chest, and staggered sideways. His head hit the ground with an audible crack. Molly's tail swished, lashing at the air around his ankles. "Stop!" he barked, and leapt the short distance to Caleb.

"What happened?" Beau and Fjord demanded in overlapping unison.

"Caleb?" Nott tried and failed to elbow Molly out of the way, and Jester held her by shoulders to keep her from throwing herself against Caleb's body.

"Look at that." Molly leaned over and gestured to the exposed skin of Caleb's arm where he'd rolled up the sleeve. "Goosebumps."

"Okay, who has water?" Jester asked, already reaching for her own waterskin. "Pour it on him now. This is really serious, guys."

"What's going on?" Beau demanded.

Nott was first to act, splashing the contents of her waterskin on Caleb's neck and shoulders. He stirred and reached for his face with a shaking hand, muttering in Zemnian.

Like some religious ritual, they doused Caleb in water and stepped back to watch Jester hover over him. Molly watched her work, even after the others took their leave to the nearby stream (shallow and warm, it offered little reprieve from the sunrays except to replenish their collective supply of sweat).

Caleb, who had gone deathly pale for a moment, had only regained a little color, and this might have been from his sunburn. His soaking hair hung in his face, drawing little rivulets of blood down his cheek.

"Oh, Caleb, did you hit your head?" Jester murmured, drawing her hands over the wound.

Nott's footfalls pattered on the ground, accompanied by the sound of splashing water. She entered Molly's field of vision in a blur and dumped an armful of waterskins on the ground where Jester knelt. "Is he hurt?" she demanded, her yellow eyes catching Molly's for one fleeting fraction of a second.

"He just got a little too much sun," Jester pronounced, pushing Caleb's wet hair out of his face.

"Sorry," Caleb said, clear and audible. Molly's shoulders sagged, tail ceasing its violent whisking pattern. Caleb sat up without assistance, accepting a waterskin from Jester with downcast eyes. "You don't need to fuss, really."

"We're not fussing," Molly said. Caleb squeezed his eyes shut. "And even if we were, it looks like you need it."

"Have you always been sensitive to the heat, Caleb?" Jester asked.

Molly relaxed into the playful lilt of her voice and Caleb seemed to as well, letting his head loll against Nott's shoulder. "I don't know." He shivered and Molly watched, intrigued, as another wave of goosebumps broke out on his arms.

This did not escape Jester's notice, but she only tucked an errant lock of indigo hair behind her ear and sat back on her heels. "Hey, Molly, can you help him up?"

"Sure, but I'll be sending you an invoice shortly." Molly knelt beside Caleb and hauled him up, though Jester on his other side was clearly doing most of the heavy lifting.

Caleb's labored breaths burned and dissipated against Molly's cheek in no discernable pattern.

"I'm too dainty for this," Molly grunted. Caleb's weight listed back and forth, swaying toward Jester, then buckling Molly's knees.

"Just get him into the water," Jester said hurriedly, dragging Molly forward by way of Caleb, who was practically on top of him now.

It was the awkward distribution rather than the weight that had Molly so off-kilter, but off-kilter he was. He stumbled the last few steps to the stream, where Fjord and Beau stood watching, and fell to his knees in the warm, slow water.

"Shit," said Beau, darting forward to catch Caleb's head before his nose hit the water. Nott materialized beside her, stroking wet strands of hair out of Caleb's face.

"Just the heat, I think," Jester said. She knelt and began to splash water over what little of Caleb's clothing was still dry. "We just need to cool him down."

Caleb stirred again, shuddered again, apologized again. "S-sorry."

The knelt around him in a circle. Clear water splashed around the contours of his body and clothing leaping merrily over their boots. When he rolled over onto his back, strands of Caleb's brilliant red hair began to float, blurring slightly through the lens of the water.

"Does this feel strangely religious to anyone else?" Molly asked, eyes tracking a ragged flower as it floated by and caught against Caleb's hip.

"Dude," said Beau, glaring at him, "shut up."

But Caleb smiled, just a little, and Molly smiled too.

[dindjarins04]

Hey! I saw you’re taking requests and I’d love to request something with Hunter and a female reader! I know this is a pretty common idea (but I absolutely love reading fics about it 😂) but the reader is a Jedi who was saved by the Bad Batch and she’s having trouble adjusting to life after order 66 and Hunter wants to comfort and help her. I feel like prompts 7a and 8a would work well for that. So if you’re at all interested in using this idea then please feel free to! I also don’t mind the use of Y/N. Thanks in advance if you end up using this idea :)

Healing

Hunter X FEM!JEDI!Reader

Word Count: 763

Prompts: 7A) "You're not alone in this" 8A) "It's alright, I've got you".

Warnings: None, just Order 66 truma :')

Request rules here

Prompt list here

Main masterlist here

Hunter master list here

The Maurader shook again as it jumped into lightspeed. You sit alone in your small room, your knuckles turning white by how hard you gripped your lightsaber handle, eyes empty as you stare into the distance. You have no idea how it happened; everything went fast. One moment you were laughing with a clone and the next he was trying to kill you. Tech said that all across the comms, the command 'Order 66' was to exterminate all Jedi because they have committed treason against the Republic which has now been made into the Galactic Empire.

You lost your padawan within the chaos. You know he's still alive; you can feel his force signature but you cannot locate him and keep him safe, Caleb will have to use your training from now on. But when you reached out for your Master to see if he's still alive, it was different. His force signature was clouded, cold, filled with anger and fear. He was alive, but something was wrong, he wasn't the same Anakin Skywalker you grew up with, who taught you everything you now know.

You blink away your thoughts and look down at your lightsaber; the one he taught you how to build. You wrapped it in a cloth before walking out into the main hull. It was quiet. Everyone must have gone to bed after entering lightspeed. You walk to the airlock and place your lightsaber in it. You close the hatch and your hand hovers over the button.

"I wouldn't do that, if I was you," You close your eyes and sigh.

"All this gives me is memories, nightmares. It's cursed," You respond and you hear him stand and walk towards you.

"You might need it,"

"This weapon will put us in danger. They'll keep sending people to kill me. It'll be harder to find a Jedi when it no longers carries its weapon," You say softly.

"Yet you're hesitating?" He questions instead of states. You nod your head, tears threatening to fall.

"Hunter, every person who I trusted tried to kill me 2 days ago. My padawan who I saw as a son is on the run and my Master..." You let out a shaky breath. "All my friends are dead, everyone I grew up with is dead and it was the people who we loved and trusted who did it," You feel a light hand on your shoulder.

"You're not alone in this," He says soothingly. "We lost Crosshairs because of this, but you have us. We're here," You turn your head to see him wearing a warm, comforting smile. "Wrecker can let you hug Lula if you ever need to," You chuckle slightly, trying your best not to cry in front of him.

"How's Omega?" You ask, changing topics.

"She's adjusting just like we all are," He knows you too well. You can tell. The way he's looking at you. He knows you're suffering the most, you almost refused to go with them because people will just keep coming and keep trying to kill you.

"Where are we going?"

"We're going to lay low, for now, wait for the majority of the chaos from Republic to Empire to wash over," You nod, turning back to your lightsaber before pressing the button, watching as space sucks your saber into the blue beams and disintegrates it. Silence falls over you two as you look at the empty space of the airlock. "(Y/N)," You turn to face him.

"Hmm?"

"Are you okay?" That question sent you. You shook your head and began to cry. He instantly moves forward and wraps you in a warm hug, your head burying into his firm chest. "It's alright, I've got you," He ran his fingers through your hair as you sobbed into his chest, glad he's in his blacks so nothing is separating you from him. You grip on him and try to match your breaths with his to calm down. Once you have, he pulls you back to wipe away your tears. "Listen, I'm going to be here for you, nothing in this galaxy will change that. I'm with you until the end. I'll do everything to protect you, do you understand?" You nod and he pulls you back into a warm, needed embrace.

"Hunter?"

"Yeah?" You sniffled and look up at him.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" He smiles warmly.

"Of course, c'mon," You take his hand as he takes you to his room, vowing never to leave you and to always protect you from whatever the galaxy throws at you.