#ch: pip

[whitegirljoshuamacheath]

sky themed rowan chow moodboard !

requests are open!

rq'ed by @crossnamara

x x x | x x x | x x x

[pipperoo]

i sincerely doubt i’ll ever stop thinking about deltarune chapter 4

it was everything and there’s still 3 chapters left

[rvlyrik]

was going thru ur tags n i cant believe no one has asked wht colors the aurastones ur ocs hv?? is it bc only a dumbass liek me woulndt kno wht color their stones r??

ehhh, i actually didn't show much abt the main character's stones yet!

sorry that this took a LONG ass time for me before answering, sooooo have an AuraStone color guide for reference!

the M's signify the location where the main gem colors are at, while the boxes where the names are in have the characters' main colors!

[salemrph]

The taste of apple and pomegranate

Ch. 1: This is your fault

Nav: Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 (coming soon) // AO3

Summary: You just wanted to survive university, not fall for either of them—let alone both. Two handsome idiots who somehow made your apartment their second home. You, Sylus, and Caleb were supposed to be just friends. So why does everything feel like their is more going on?

Character: Sylus x f!reader x Caleb // Tara, Rafayel // AU - College, Student

Genre: romantic, fluff, intimacy, sexual content, humor, friends to lovers, poliamore, slow burn

Word count: 3k | Reading Time: 12 min | AO3

A/N: This one’s more of a short, episode-style story. I just wanted to have some fun throwing these two into everyday situations and seeing what kind of chaos unfolds. Hope you enjoy the mess!

Tag list: @thechaoticarchivist @peacedreamer14 @blessdunrest @strwberriiblnde @plzdonutpercieveme @sylusqt @sakuraneko-sakupanda-chan @peacedreamer14 @escapeis @plzdonutpercieveme

Chp. 1: This is your fault

The clock blinked past midnight, and your fourth beer of the evening was dangerously close to becoming a fifth. Your apartment was dimly lit, warm from too many bodies and old radiator heat, littered with half-eaten snacks and scattered notes. A half-empty pack of cigarettes lay discarded on the coffee table, nestled beside a ridiculous lighter: a fluffy kitten pattern grinning up at you with the defiant, stupid quote “I have other 9 lives.” The scent of stale beer and cheap ramen hung heavy in the air, almost comforting, now mixed with the distinct, masculine perfumes and deodorants of your best friends.

Caleb was hunched over his laptop at the far end of the couch, still typing furiously. “Stop drinking so much, Pips,” he muttered, not even bothering to glance up.

You rolled your eyes, stretching your legs across the coffee table, with a sigh that was 50% relaxation, 50% resignation. “It’s my beer, my apartment. Let me live.”

In the background, your chill playlist hummed, the kind you usually put on when you're drinking. You were right at that sweet spot, alcohol just starting to expand in your veins, making everything feel kinda hazy and good. You knew your brain was about to start overthinking something, probably something dumb.

The melancholic melody filled the silence: "I always want you when I'm (coming down)," the song played softly, what a sensual song, you think. Something silently ignited something deep within you.

You took a long sip from your bottle, the cheap lager almost tasting good enough to forget the rising frustration about your non-existent dating life. Your gaze drifted across the dimly lit room, landing on Caleb's focused profile. Your eyes snagged on his hand, currently flying across the keyboard. The same hand that had, more than once, casually hoisted you over his shoulder after particularly wild parties, or carefully bandaged a scraped knee from a clumsy fall. Around his neck the apple necklace you present him hung against his skin. Your eyes followed the line of it, down to where his t-shirt to his white bandages wrapped around his forearm, a fresh souvenir from his last basketball game. Your gaze traced the edge of it, then drifted, admiring the solid curve of his bicep. You avoid biting your lips.  

From the other side of the room, sitting at the dining table, Sylus offered a lazy, noncommittal hum, his eyes similarly fixed on his own monitor—stock charts, forex rates, and whatever other wizardry he used to casually rake in ungodly amounts of money. The man was practically a walking, breathing hedge fund, and you still didn't get why he was bothering with university. He could probably buy the entire campus and turn it into his personal empire without blinking.

He sipped his espresso and with a soft click, he closed a tab where he'd apparently just bought a stock at a very good price. His glasses, an expensive, minimalist frame, perched casually on the bridge of his aristocratic nose, drawing attention to the sharp line of his jaw. Your gaze followed the elegant curve of his long fingers as they clicked another tab closed, his nails perfectly manicured. He was dressed, as always, in something impossibly chic yet understated – a dark silk shirt, the sleeves rolled precisely to his forearms. He had this overall presence that just radiated 'out of reach'. Yet, you'd had the bizarre, almost illicit privilege of glimpsing a lot more than just his designer clothes. Like those warm summer nights when he'd showered at your place, the sight of his lean, powerful body illuminated by the glow of your bathroom light burned into your memory. The first time you saw it wrapped in the towel, you swear your nose was bleeding.

He continued searching for other gadgets and artifacts at auction sites. “You should at least drink something imported.”

You shot him a look that could curdle milk. “Not all of us are billionaires by twenty-four, Sylus.”

He just smirked, a faint, almost imperceptible twitch of his lips, not bothering to deny it. Bastard.

The days and months had started passing more and more quickly since those two insufferable idiots had crashed into your life.  Sylus and Caleb were a little older than you, but not by much, two or three years at most. They were both part of the university basketball team and knew each other from a few overlapping courses in their respective majors.

You still didn’t quite understand why Sylus was studying engineering when he was so absurdly good at business and finance. Over time, you realized he was a tech nerd and was always creating things. A true genie. Caleb was another natural talent. He’d told you more than once about the summers he spent dismantling and rebuilding cars just for fun. His real dream was to become a pilot, but apparently, he didn’t do well on the psychological assessment.

Out of respect for the simmering frustration you'd glimpsed beneath his usual easy going demeanor, you'd never pressed on what that test involved or why he'd failed.

Sylus, with his ever-present “don’t bother me” energy, was, along with Caleb, one of the main attractions on campus. Wherever he went, people noticed. He drew attention without even trying, but never seemed interested in anything or anyone in particular. Most of his time was spent glued to his laptop, tracking stocks, studying currency shifts. He should’ve been a goddamn broker. About two years ago, he’d made a fortune literally overnight, landing him on the cover of a few important financial magazines. Yeah, just casually.

You, on the other hand, were still somewhat unsure whether the career path you’d chosen was really what you wanted. But instead of figuring it out beforehand, you’d decided to figure it out while doing it—which, honestly, felt like the most brilliant idea you’d had at the time.

Caleb let out a heavy sigh, finally tearing his gaze from his screen to meet yours. “You’ve been off lately, Pips. What’s going on?”

You let out a sharp, exasperated breath, sinking deeper into the couch cushions. You weren't entirely sure if this was the right topic to drop on the guys, but honestly? You didn't give a flying fuck. They were your friends. They could just cope with your impending mental breakdown over whatever fresh hell was brewing in your life. So... 

“I haven’t been on a date in months. Everyone either ghosts me or cancels last minute. I swear to god, I'm starting to think I'm cursed. Or hexed. Or...” you squint at them both, a wave of drunken suspicion washing over you, “sabotaged.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow. “Sabotaged?”

You pointed a wobbly finger, barely managing to keep it steady. “Don’t act innocent. I bet that you have something to do with that. Probably you have scared them off. You're a pair of overprotective guard dogs."

Caleb let out a short, dry laugh, shaking his head. "You’re reading too much into it, Pips."

Sylus didn’t look up. “If they were scared off that easily, they weren’t worth your time.”

"He's not wrong," Caleb agreed, a light mocking smile playing on his lips. 

You stared at them. How these two insufferable, brilliant, competitive idiots who couldn't go ten minutes without throwing shit at each other but still managed to be friends, is a mystery for you. You took another long sip from your bottle, eyes bouncing between the two of them. They didn’t even deny it.

The last guy who looked at you flirty at the library suddenly found his entire research paper deleted from the shared drive, and Caleb was “just” helping him out. Which ended, according to rumours, in a threat with the smile of an angel. And how about the coffee shop guy? Cute. Charming. You actually went on a date with him. There was chemistry, flirting and potential. You’d even texted Tara that you had a good feeling. Then you casually mentioned to the boys that you’d met someone. A day later? Ghosted. Like a goddamn phantom. It couldn't be a coincidence. It couldn't. 

“Oh, really?" you countered, your voice rising in disbelief. "What about the guy in my peer study group, huh? He got a death stare from both of you. I practically had to convince him you two weren't going to bite him.” You slammed your bottle down on the coffee table with a thud, the sound punctuating your declaration. “You know what I think?” you declared. “If I can’t go on a date and you little shits are messing with my dating life, theeen… guess what?”

Caleb’s expression shifted from detached amusement to a wary curiosity. Sylus raised a single eyebrow.

“You two are going to fix it.”  you stated.

Caleb lets out a dry laugh. “Fix what? Your dating life?”

Sylus finally closed his laptop, his lips curling into a subtle smirk, clearly amused by where this is heading. “And how do you propose we ‘fix’ this, sweetie?” he purred with a hint of playful condescension.

“You’re fucking responsible for my needs,” you declared, waving your hand like you were pronouncing a royal decree. “Congratulations.”

The room falls silent. The alcohol has clearly reached your brain, and you haven’t yet realized what you were trying to say, let alone the seismic shift they'd just triggered in both their minds.

Caleb blinked slowly, like his brain had momentarily disconnected from the rest of him. "...What?"

Sylus's response was flat, almost dangerously so “Define needs...”

"Human touch! Kissing! Sex! The whole damn package!" you exclaimed, throwing your arms out in exasperation, your voice rising in a frustrated crescendo. “I'm practically wasting my colleague's year because you two. You’re like gods,” you continue, voice rising while standing up on the sofa, mimicking your parallelism “sitting on Mount Olympus, throwing lightning bolts at anyone who so much as looks at me sideways!”

You stopped, chest heaving slightly from your own dramatic flair, glaring at them both. Caleb massaged his tempel, Sylus simply took another slow sip of his espresso, his smirk widening as he leaned back against the chair.

“So let me get this straight, pipsqueak,” Caleb began, but then it hitched, his mouth suddenly dry. "You're blaming us for the drought in your love life, and your solution is...?"

“I’m saying,” you cut in, sitting back on the sofa. Taking the almost-empty bottle and pointing accusingly at both of them, “if neither of you is going to let me date literally anyone, then maybe you should be the ones handling the consequences. Physically.”

Another long pause stretched between you. Caleb looked completely baffled. Sylus, ever composed, finished his coffee. 

“Well,” he said, voice smooth as sin, “this escalated nicely.” He stood up and walked over to the sofa. With a quick movement he snatched your bottle out of your hand. “You had enough of this,” he said, tone light but firm, leaving no room for argument. You blinked at him, half-offended, half-flustered, and pouted, like a little girl who'd just had her favorite candy snatched away. “Such a bold kitten we have tonight…”

Then he leaned down, close, his body nearly caging you against the cushions. You could feel the heat radiating off him, his scent a potent mix of espresso and his usual spicy and woody perfume. He examined the bottle, tilting it slightly, then let out a quiet sigh, as if he'd just connected the dots and realized your little outburst was the predictable consequence of cheap liquor.

But of course, he wasn't letting you off the hook. Not when you'd just handed him such a delicious opening. So he leaned in a little closer, playing it up, his voice dropping to a low, seductive murmur.

“If you wanted to upgrade our friendship to something with… benefits, you could have said it earlier.” His eyes flicked to Caleb, a quick, mischievous glint, daring him to match the energy. Caleb, not one to back down from a challenge, closed the remaining space between you. His body radiates warmth, and a grin spreads across his face. 

“Alright honey,” he murmured. His fingers brushed your jaw, light, teasing caress that sent shivers down your spine. “This is next level.”

Your heart was hammering now—between Sylus’s velvet voice and Caleb’s proximity, you were seconds away from full combustion. Your skin prickles. Your face burned, a furious blush creeping up your neck. You’re too aware of how close they are. Of the heat rolling off their bodies. Of the way your knees suddenly feel too weak and the air in your lungs refuses to behave. You swallow hard. The heat of the alcohol combined with the heat of your own mortification was a potent cocktail. What were you even thinking? Sylus was probably already calculating the market value of your desperation.

You did the only thing your overwhelmed brain could manage. You shoved them both.

“Okay! Nope!” you blurted, scrambling to your feet like the couch was suddenly on fire. You sighed, dragging a hand down your face as the heat in your cheeks caught up with your mouth. “Nevermind, I’m drunk.” You stood up, wobbling a little from the beer and embarrassment. “Forget it. I’ll talk to Tara.” You didn't even bother glancing back as you snatched your empty bottles, the glass clinking as you stomped toward the kitchen. “Apparently a new hot art student has joined the campu, so maybe I’ll get a chance.” you murmured more for you. Behind you, silence. Caleb blinked at Sylus. Sylus blinked back. And then, like a perfectly timed glitch in the universe, both spoke at once:

“Hot art student?”

Caleb was already flying over pictures on social media. He obviously knows everyone on campus, and it would only take a couple of messages to find the guy in question. A few seconds later he pulled up the profile. Caleb clicked his tongue and a slight spasm made his face twitch for a moment. Without a word, he tossed the phone across the couch. Sylus caught it one-handed, gaze flicking down with mild disinterest. He studied the screen for all of two seconds before the corner of his mouth twitched. Violet hair, clothes with light, almost theatrical cuts. A flamboyant guy named Rafayel.

You peeked around the corner, raising a brow. “You two shouldn’t care who I date or fuck.”

Sylus leaned back on the couch, one leg crossed over the other. “Kitten,” he said, that dangerous softness in his voice. “Do me a favor, okay?” You tilted your head, already bracing. “Raise your standards.”

You straightened up, trying to project an air of nonchalance you absolutely did not feel. 

“Are you suddenly volunteering to step in and save me from a life of celibacy?” You crossed your arms, daring them to answer. The silence stretched with unspoken possibilities, with implications that made your skin prickle. You cleared your throat awkwardly, waving a hand dismissively. “Gosh… It was a joke. I mean, obviously,” you added quickly. “I’m not actually... I just—ugh, whatever. Just go home, both of you. I need to sleep.”

You turned on your heel and started toward your room, absolutely refusing to make eye contact. 

Behind you, Caleb chuckled under his breath. “Sure, Pips. Jokes. Good night.”

“Sleep well, kitten. Try not to dream about moody art boys who can’t find your G-spot.”

The sound of the door slamming shut echoed through the apartment. Your heart was racing. Your skin was on fire. And all you could think was: You were never drinking around them again. Never. Again. Your cheeks are still blazing, and you can practically feel Sylus's smirk through the door. He knows exactly how to get under your skin. And Caleb, that traitor, just egging him on. They love this, don’t they? Love seeing you flustered and embarrassed. This whole situation is just a mess. 

Why did they have to look at you like that? Like they were actually considering it. Caleb, with that flicker of genuine concern and something else you couldn’t quite decipher. And Sylus… Sylus with that infuriating, knowing glint in his eyes that always made you question everything, every boundary, every assumption you had about him.

What were you trying to do? Was it a pathetic attempt at making them jealous? You couldn't deny that you'd been more than a little attracted to them when you first met them. How could you not? Their sculpted bodies, the way their muscles flexed under taut skin, their easy confidence. You've seen them shirtless too many times… Sweaty post-game, fresh out of the shower, pants slung far too low. Honestly? They should open an OF. Just for you. So you could enjoy the view in private, without having to explain why your brain short-circuited every time they took off their T-Shirt. 

You’ve gone too long without a decent date. That was the only rational explanation. Now you’re sexualizing your friends. Which led to dangerous, fleeting images flashing through your mind, so vivid it made you swallow hard. Both of them, staring at you. Cheeks flushed. Foreheads glistening with sweat. Their eyes dark, locked onto you, devouring you. Their voices rough. Almost in sync, whispering your name with a heat that makes your hair stand on end.

An electrifying sensation shot through your entire body, hitting all the wrong places. Or maybe the right ones. Your breath catches. You slap a hand over your mouth, fast, stifling the sound threatening to escape. A very involuntary and absolutely needy moan that rises from somewhere deep in your chest. 

You blink hard, shaking your head like it might rattle the fantasy loose. God help you. No. You’re not going to think about it. You were going to take a cold shower and pretend this entire humiliating, sexually charged conversation never happened.

Release every 1-2 week

Nav: Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 (coming soon) // AO3

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[captainjamesjoneshook]

@jere-me--oh-my

"Those chuckle fucks?" he snorted, dropping his hands back to the bed. "You want this to succeed, not get buried under their competing egos."

Though, whoops, he had sort of forgotten Jeremy had dated Seville until the exact moment he had said this. But, obviously he must have not been that broken up about it anymore since he was wanting him direct this hypothetical play.

Quick, move on! Throw himself under the bus!

"And, you don't want me anywhere near this thing unless I'm in the audience, mate," he said, pressing a smile to his face before sighing. "I can barely keep my own life straight at the moment."

On The Mend - JimJams

[mapsthewanderer]

Caleb’s headcanon -

The Vanguard

Synopsis: And so, you step into the shower, steam rising around you as you rinse away the day—readying, steadying yourself before slipping into the onsen. Where Caleb waits. Is your New Year’s wish finally coming true?

Details: Medium 2500ish w. Romance. Nudity. Banter. Raw. Real. Kissing. Umh, licking lol. Possessive Caleb. Sensitive Caleb. Schmutt prelude. Suggestive language. The fuqin sexual tension, bahh I’m sat.

Onsen series: This is a continuation of the onsen series. Check Onsen mist ch. I, Onsen heat ch. II if you want fuller context and a longer slow burn.

The Yearning: @gavin3469 @mcdepressed290

Onsen ripples | Chapter III

Hot water beats down on your skin, sluicing over your shoulders, down your spine, pooling in rivulets at the curve of your waist before disappearing into the swirling steam at your feet.

It should be relaxing. But your mind is somewhere else. On someone else.

You exhale, pressing your palms against the slick, heated tile, letting your head tip forward under the spray, trying—failing—to steady your thoughts.

You’ve shared spaces with Caleb before. Trained together, fought together, shaped each other in ways too deep to name now. He’s always been there—within arm’s reach, woven into your every step.

And yet—

Your heart skips a beat, your stomach tightening—because the memory is still too fresh.

Caleb, stepping onto the terrace. The towel hanging dangerously loose around his hips. His ashen-brown hair turned a deep, rich shade, soaked through, strands curling against his forehead. The silver dog tag glittering, catching droplets that slid slow and lazy down the planes of his chest, following the contours of his body before vanishing beneath linen.

He had stopped beside you, so close the heat of his skin had radiated through the cool night air, sinking into yours.

And then—so casually it had nearly undone you—he had handed you a towel, identical to his.

A featherlight kiss brushed against your cheek.

“Ease up, Pips. Enjoy yourself.”

The words had been soft, coaxing, effortless, the warmth in his tone curling at the edges of something more.

You had tried.

Tried to take a slow breath, to steady yourself in the warmth of the water rather than the warmth of him.

But standing here now, beneath the near-scalding spray, it washes over you all over again.

Every drop is hot, relentless, sinking deep into your muscles, but it doesn’t burn quite the way it should. Instead, it feeds into the simmer already beneath your skin, heat that has nothing to do with the steam curling around you and everything to do with the way Caleb had looked at you before stepping outside.

Your fingers drift absently down your side, brushing over the curve of your hipbone, the plane of your stomach, the slight dip just beneath your ribs. Every inch of you feels flushed—too warm, too tight, far too aware.

Then—your knee.

A bruise.

Your fingers skim over it, and a small frown tugs at your lips. The skin is sensitive, a faint sting prickling beneath your touch.

But it’s nothing, really—just a whisper of color blooming against your skin, a fleeting mark, barely noticeable beneath the mist curling in the air.

And yet—

Self-awareness creeps in, slow and inescapable.

Soon, you’ll step into the onsen, into the open air, into his eyes.

He will see you.

Not just in passing, not just in fleeting glances, but fully, unfiltered, utterly present.

And you already know how Caleb will look at you.

He’ll carry the same unapologetic intensity he’s carried since you met in Skyhaven. The same focus that makes the air between you vibrate, that sends a slow, tightening pull deep in your stomach, like gravity itself is shifting around him.

A shiver runs through you, one that has nothing to do with the temperature as your hand finds the knob, twisting the water off with a final, resounding click.

The sudden silence presses in, broken only by the gentle drip of water sliding from your skin, the mist still curling lazily at your feet.

Cool air rushes in to greet you, sharp against the flush of your skin, a contrast that only amplifies the warmth curling deep inside you.

Reaching for the towel, you wrap it snug beneath your arms, the fabric pressing warm and grounding against you. A slow inhale, a steady exhale.

Then—without another moment of hesitation, you step outside.

——————————————————————————

The night air is a cold bite against your skin, stark and shocking after the heated embrace of the shower. Your breath curls silver in the crisp air, swirling into nothingness.

Steam rises from the onsen in thick, lazy ribbons, the scent of cedar and mineral-rich water curling in the quiet stillness. The lanterns sway gently with the night breeze, their warm glow casting soft, flickering reflections across the surface. The air is thick with heat, the kind that clings to skin, sinking deep, easing everything into a slow, weightless calm.

And then—

Movement.

A subtle shift in the water, the faintest ripple breaking the glassy stillness. The lantern light catches on bare skin, on the slope of damp shoulders, on the dark strands of hair curling over a familiar forehead.

Caleb’s stretched out like he belongs, arms resting lazily along the smooth stone edge, body half-submerged, the water licking at his collarbones. His hair, still damp from the shower, is darker than usual, messy, unruly, strands clinging to his forehead. Droplets slide down his skin, catching against the sharp lines of his shoulders before disappearing into the water.

And—his eyes are on you.

You feel the weight of his gaze as it measures you, as violet drag over you slow, deliberate, unreadable.

Gripping your towel tighter, you force yourself to move.

Then—

His gaze lands on your knee.

The slight furrow of his brows is barely there, a flicker of something close to concern, a shift in his usual ease. His fingers lift to his mouth, idly tugging at his lower lip as he studies the bruise, his gaze dark, unreadable—like he’s debating something, like he’s already decided.

“That from a fight?”

You follow his eyes, glancing down.

Bingo. You knew he’d see it—you knew in the shower already, the second your fingers brushed over it, the second the sting reminded you it was there. His eyes always caught on things like that—small injuries, fleeting pains, the things you dismissed but he never could.

“Nothing to worry about.”

His lips press together—not quite convinced.

You shift your weight, exhaling slowly, steadying yourself.

“Turn around.”

Caleb blinks. “What?”

You lift an eyebrow. “You heard me. Turn around.”

A slow smirk curves at the corner of his mouth.

“Pips,” he drawls, “I promise you, I’ve seen you get into much worse situations than a bath.”

You narrow your eyes. “Yeah? And I promise you, if you peek, I’ll drown you in this onsen.”

Caleb chuckles—but he turns, movements fluid, unhurried, effortless. The muscles in his back shift subtly with the motion, a quiet display of control, of ease. Head tilting toward the sky, he lingers—loose, comfortable—like he has all the time in the world.

Your fingers flex, hesitating for a fraction of a second, before you finally release your grip. The towel slips from your hands, heavy with moisture, falling in a muted thud against the wooden terrace floor—soft, damp, final.

Then—with a steady inhale, you step forward.

The heat of the onsen greets you instantly, wrapping around your legs, climbing higher as you lower yourself in. The water swirls, lapping at your waist, your ribs, your shoulders. The second you’re submerged, you exhale, the warmth pressing into your muscles, unwinding some of the tension.

Some. Not all. Definitely not all.

Caleb shifts. His arms stretch out along the stone again, casual, easy, completely unbothered. And then—he turns back.

Violet eyes find yours—and stay there.

A heartbeat.

Two.

“See? That wasn’t so bad.”

Caleb’s smirk is slow, drenched in quiet triumph, his arms draped along the stone edge as if the entire world exists at his leisure. Lantern light kisses every drop of water clinging to his skin, tracing over muscle and shadow, painting him in liquid gold. Effortlessly at ease, utterly sovereign in the space between you—like he belongs there, like he always has.

But you refuse to let him rule over a peaceful kingdom that easily. A slow inhale, a slight straighten of your spine—then, you move.

Fingers slice through the water, sending a sharp splash straight at his chest.

The droplets hit their mark, scattering across his already damp skin—an act of rebellion against the sovereign in his throne. You catch the flicker of surprise in his eyes before it twists into something amused, something that all but dares you to strike again.

“Oh?”

His tone is low, edged with playful warning, but the amusement in his voice does nothing to soften the weight of his stare.

“That’s bold of you, Pips.”

As he says it, his hands drop from the edge, disappearing beneath the shifting water, his movements slow, fluid—controlled. Muscles flex and ripple beneath his damp skin, the subtle tension of restraint visible even through the steam that curls around him.

The water shifts around him, lapping at his collarbones, sliding over the sharp definition of his chest, swallowing him inch by inch as he sinks lower.

Yet his eyes remain locked onto yours, unblinking, intense—smoldering beneath half-lowered lids.

Like something untamed lurking just beneath the surface, bleeding into the water itself.

Caleb’s act doesn’t fool you—not the warning in his eyes, not the quiet tension in the air. You don’t feel threatened in the slightest. If anything, it only makes you bolder. “I’m just wondering—” fingers flick through the water again, sending another small wave his way, deliberate, teasing— “if you being tired of playing games back in Skyhaven applies to onsen splashing, too.”

Caleb laughs, tipping his head back slightly, his damp hair falling away from his face. It’s a real laugh—deep, warm, unrestrained. The sound settles somewhere in your chest, curling beneath your ribs.

He exhales through his nose, shaking his head. “Pips.”

Then, faster than you can react, he returns the favor. Water splashes against your shoulder, your collarbone, sliding down in slow rivulets, and you gasp, half in shock, half in breathless amusement.

His grin is pure mischief now. “Careful now—once you start this, there’s no backing out.”

Feigning another attack, you lift your hands slightly. “Oh, I’m not backing out—” you flick more water at him, watching as droplets cling to his cheekbone, “I think I’m holding my own just fine.”

Caleb’s brows arch, and his smirk deepens—something wicked, something utterly confident.

“Looks like neither of us are backing out this time, Pips—” he tilts his head, smirk deepening as his gaze drags over you, slow and deliberate.

His voice drops, a smooth hum of amusement. “If playing this game means I get to be your only audience in an onsen? Pips, I’d be a damn fool to fold now.”

Your stomach flutters—traitorous and unbidden—because the way he says it, the weight behind his words, the way his gaze glides down your body before meeting your eyes again—

His hand shoots beneath the water, fingers wrapping effortlessly around your ankle.

And then—he pulls.

A sharp yelp escapes you, your body slipping weightless beneath the water as he drags you forward. The onsen ripples violently, the heat cascading around you, and within seconds, you are flush against him.

His fingers press into the dip of your hip, grounding you effortlessly. Violet eyes pin you in place—dark, unreadable, simmering beneath the flickering lantern light.

You swallow, breath coming too shallow, too sharp. Caleb’s gaze drops—lower. To your knee. A slight tilt of his head, a slither of something unreadable in his eyes, and then his grip tightens—just enough for you to feel it, just enough to make your pulse stutter. And then—his voice lowers.

“However—”

His thumb brushes over your skin, slow, idly tracing patterns against your thigh as if deciding how much he wants to say.

“When it comes to playing games with somebody else—” his eyes flick up, pinning you in place, “and not telling me about it.”

Your stomach plummets and a different kind of heat curls at the base of your spine. An awareness that has nothing to do with the water and everything to do with the way his fingers are still on you.

He tilts his head, considering you, his mouth pulling into something close to a smirk but not quite.

“That’s not a game I’m willing to entertain, Pips.”

And then—without another second of hesitation, without a whisper of warning—

He pulls.

Your breath catches, stalls, disappears entirely as his grip shifts around your knee, dragging you forward with effortless precision.

Caleb’s lips part, his tongue flicking over the mark, slow and indulgent, tracing the faint discoloration with something between worship and hunger.

A shaky inhale slips past your lips, your fingers twitching, hesitating—then finally giving in. They sink into his hair, gripping, tangling, desperate. He exhales against your skin, the sound rich, satisfied—a hum that vibrates through your leg, through your core, sending shockwaves that’s pooling deep between your thighs.

“Next time you hurt yourself, I expect a report.”

You blink, breath unsteady, mind blurring with the heat of his mouth, the weight of his touch.

“Because—”

Caleb’s lips return to your knee, pressing another slow, lingering kiss before he speaks again.

“I’d like to take care of any damage to you myself.”

With all that obsession brimming beneath his skin, threatening to crack through, you swallow hard, struggling to breathe, to think—but he isn’t letting go.

Not yet.

And just as he finally—finally—loosens his grip, just as his gaze drifts toward the star-soaked sky above—

You move—instinctive, inevitable. Arms curve around his neck, pulling him back, pulling him in—until there’s nowhere left to go.

And you kiss him.

The moment your lips touch his, his breath stills, his body goes taut beneath your hands. The heat of the water wraps around you both, thick and consuming, the steam curling in slow wisps around your faces, weaving through the space between you like something alive.

His grip on you tightens for just a fraction of a second, as if making sure you’re real.

And then—

He smiles. Puzzled, a little shaken.

Like you’ve performed some kind of illusion, some trick of the universe he wasn’t prepared for.

Slowly, your hand lifts, fingers finding the angle of his cheekbone, your thumb skimming just beneath his eye.

A single droplet lingers there, clinging to the thin skin beneath his lashes. You brush it away—soft, barely a touch at all—letting your thumb trail downward, resting against his lower lip.

Caleb doesn’t move. Doesn’t even breathe. His gaze stays locked onto yours—unblinking, unwavering—like you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to this moment, the only thing that exists. And then, slowly, he leans back in.

A peck—gentle, testing, deliberate. He searches for answers in your lips, and when he finds them open, inviting, yielding to him—

“Oh, Pip-squeak”

The way he says your pet name—wrecked, disbelieving, almost vulnerable—unravels something deep inside you. His eyes search yours, drinking you in, like he needs to find the truth there before he dares to hope.

“Is this—” his voice hitches, almost hesitant, “an actual invitation?”

And Caleb kisses you again. Deeper this time. Slower. More intent. And in the press of his lips, in the quiet pull of breath between you, something in you stirs—an answer, a decision. You nod into the kiss, small, almost lost in the way your mouths move together—but he feels it. Just like he feels the breathless laugh that spills against his lips, warm, weightless, dissolving into the kiss itself.

“What, do you want it written?”

Caleb exhales a shaky breath, his forehead nearly touching yours, his lips brushing yours as he speaks.

“No,” he murmurs, his mouth curling into a smile—soft, yet teeth-baring.

Above you, the sky is a masterpiece of shifting light and endless depth, the auroras weaving like silk across the heavens. The world is vast, infinite, and yet—somehow—this moment, this heat, this closeness, feels larger.

Then—his lips graze yours once more, teasing, lingering, making you ache.

“I’ll accept a branding of myself on you instead.”

The heat in his voice sinks into your bones, into your bloodstream, into every inch of you that has ever belonged to him.

And you finally know—without a doubt, without hesitation—

That he means it. That you are his.

Chapter IV

——————————————————————————

Writer’s note: *wheeeeeze*. I’m basically torturing myself at this point. It’s happening ya’ll and I’m writing like a madwoman lmao (loving every second of it). THE TRACK THO. I was just listening to a random electronica playlist and then that came! Okey then, thank you for reading and thank you much for all the kind comments on ch. I and II🫶🏻

[lilithrosexoxo]

Ch. 1 Exposure

Summary— Caleb is finally back in your life, something you thought would never happen but things aren't the same anymore. You're both different, secrets are kept from one another, feelings are hidden. It's like a blockage between you two now. However, feelings bubble up to the surface after Caleb learns about your relationship with Sylus. What will happen when the truth finally comes out?

SMUT WARNING (18+ only): Porn With Plot, Fluff and Smut, Vaginal Sex, Masturbation

Pairing: Caleb x Reader

Song Inspiration:

1st Half: Been Like this by Doja Cat

2nd Half (Spicy Part): Exposure by Dram

A/N: Y’all prepared for the next chapter? How do we feel about AppleCrow?

W/C: 3783

“Caleb please harder”, you whine underneath him.

He obeys as his thrusts grow erratic, “Fuck Y/N I’m close. Hah- I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna- fuck”, he grunts out as his eyes fly open.

“Fuck!”, he shouts as he cums in his boxers making a sticky mess. He’s panting heavily as he comes down from his high and he realizes what he’s just done. Not only has he defiled you in his dreams yet again but he’s even cum in his boxers like he’s a teenage boy. He groans at the realization. Caleb has loved you for years but ever since you’ve been with him in Skyhaven it’s been extremely obvious how much he yearns for you and how pent up he is. He’s even taken your used underwear from the dirty laundry basket and not only licked up any remnants but also found himself jerking off with the lace caressing his cock completely drenching them in his cum. Shame hits him like a truck afterwards, here you are trusting him and he can’t stop thinking about you being a whimpering mess underneath him. About you finally becoming his. He sighs to himself as he gets off the bed and pulls off his sticky underwear grimacing at the feeling. Well he better go shower and wash off all the evidence before you’re up.

xoxo

It’s noon and you still haven’t left your room. He figures you’re probably oversleeping once again and that it’s time to wake you up.

He knocks on your door gently, “Pip-squeak it’s 12 it’s time to get up”.

He waits for a few and hears no response and sighs. He opens the door and is captivated by the sight that greets him. Sunlight is filtering through the room and bathing you in a warm glow. Your hair frames your face perfectly like a canvas with your face being the masterpiece. Your covers are thrown off and you’re only dressed in one of his tees and from the looks of your perky nipples poking against it no bra. His eyes wander lower and he can see that you’ve also forgone panties with the way your body is positioned and oh fuck you're wet. He can see your puffy pussy lips glistening in the sunlight and it makes his throat go dry instantly in the mood for something wet and creamy. He licks his lips as he ogles you until he realizes he’s watching you sleep like some creep. He goes to wake you up until he hears you moan and rub your thighs together. He freezes in his steps as he hears you mumble something in your sleep. His brain short circuits at that moment. Were you dreaming of someone? Who could you possibly be dreaming about? He decides to wake you up before he goes too far. He cups your face as he calls your name gently.

You open your eyes and can’t tell if you’re still dreaming or not. Caleb is in front of you looking just like he did in your dream well except not in the throes of passion. Also Sylus is missing. You rub your thighs together as you remember being sandwiched between them so close to an orgasm, “Caleb”, you say in a sultry voice that has him throbbing in his pants. 

“Come on Pip-squeak it’s time to wake up, I'll make you breakfast. I’ll even make you some toast with that apple jam you love”, he says winking at you.

You groan your dream is definitely over and you were so close to cumming. You launch your pillow at him smacking him right in the face.

“You jerk, I was in the middle of a good dream”, you whine pulling his shirt down after realizing how exposed you were praying he didn’t notice the slick dripping down your thighs.

“Yeah I bet you were”, he mumbles and you freeze. Did… did he hear you? You feel heat rush to your face in embarrassment. God please kill me now if he heard me moan his name. You’d be mortified and would never be able to look at him the same.

“What did you say!?”, you croak out.

“Nothing, come on it’s time to get dressed Pip-squeak it’s already noon”.

“Okay okay I’m getting up, get out so I can get dressed you perv”, you say shoving him playfully off the bed.

Caleb leaves with a chuckle while you get up and get dressed. You bring his shirt to your face inhaling, it still smells like him. You glide a finger through your sticky folds and rub on your clit still sensitive from your dream.

“I don’t hear you getting up Pip-squeak do I have to drag you out of bed?”, you hear from down the hall.

You groan you love Caleb but he’s really killing your mood this morning, afternoon, whatever time it was. Was it too much to just want to finish where your dream left off? You rise out of the bed stretching all the kinks out of your stiff joints. You decide to throw on a simple white and blue floral mini dress forgoing a bra or panties before making your way to the bathroom and getting ready. 

You join Caleb in the kitchen not long after the smell of bacon and apple jam enticing you like a siren song. You sit on a stool at the kitchen island admiring Caleb from afar. He’s dressed in gray sweats and a white tee and you admire how his biceps flex with his movements. You don’t want to be caught ogling so you direct your attention to your phone noticing you have an unread text from Sylus. You smile as you read the text knowing it's exactly what you need and bite your lip before responding.

“Hey Pip-squeak, who you texting?”, Caleb asks as he snatches your phone out of your hand, surprising you. You didn’t even hear him, the sneaky bastard.

“Caleb give it back!”, you shout.

Caleb feels his left eye twitch and swears he sees red. Kitten? Ride? Release!? Who the hell is this guy? Is this guy you were dreaming about? Just the thought of you with another man has him going haywire. He feels himself grip your phone and has to stop his evol from completely crushing it but he’s tempted just to wipe any interaction with this Sylus guy. Wait Sylus? This can't possibly be the same Sylus that’s the leader of Onychinus? He heard rumors about you in the N109 zone from his contacts that had their eyes on you while he was gone but did you really entangle yourself with him? How much has changed since he’s been gone?

“Caleb?”, you question as you see him go eerily still after glancing at your phone. You know he has a tendency to be quite overprotective of you but your life is your life he can’t control every aspect of it. Besides you’ve long resigned on trying to get Caleb to see you as anything more than a close friend. The details of your relationship with Sylus was none of his business.

“Sylus? Is this Sylus the reason you’ve been smiling so hard?”, he questions with a lift of his brow trying to mask his growing anger. He hopes you can’t see how much this is affecting him. He's damn near losing his mind just thinking of you on top of another man. But the leader of Onychinus? He may just have to visit the leader himself.

You pout and fuck if he doesn’t just want to grab you by the waist and kiss your lips.

You quickly snatch your phone while he’s distracted.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business”, you say, turning away from him. 

He feels guilt wrack through his body. Before the explosion you two shared everything with each other but now it feels like there’s a chasm between you two that can’t be bridged no matter how hard he tries.

“No Pip-squeak, it is my business. Especially if that’s who I think it is. You shouldn’t trust someone like that, he’s dangerous and you definitely shouldn’t put yourself in a vulnerable position with him”, he says in a condescending tone.

At that you snap. How dare he judge Sylus, that man has been there for some of your darkest nights. When you were plagued by nightmares about the explosion it was Sylus who held you close and comforted you. When the panic attacks would come and all you could think about was how Caleb and Gran were gone he was the one that held your hands and helped you ground back to reality. You feel emotions bubbling to the surface. The silent rage that’s been festering since you learned Caleb was alive. Alive and well and he didn’t even tell you. Just far off into the Deepspace commanding the fleet as the mysterious Colonel from the shadows. Did you not mean as much to him as he did to you? Would he have even revealed that he was alive if you didn’t sneak into the fleet for an undercover investigation?

It all bursts out, “You left me Caleb! You made me think you were dead and that you were gone! Do you know how hard these past few months have been for me!? Sylus- Sylus has been one of the few things keeping me grounded”, you say as tears stream down your face and the ache in your chest grows. You’ve been holding it all in and just trying to be grateful for him being back in your life but it’s been hard. His absence, his return, the secrets piling up between you two. It’s just too much.

“Hey look at me, please don’t cry starlight I’m sorry”, he says as he goes to hold you but you push him away and turn around.

“Maybe I should return to Linkon”, you whisper and Caleb swears he can hear his heart fracture at your words, at your coldness. He knows it’s deserved but it doesn’t make the pain hurt any less.

He walks up and holds you from behind, placing his chin on the top of your head trying to convince you to stay, “Please, please don’t leave Y/N. I just got you back”.

You sigh and reign in your emotions, you turn around and look him in the eye maintaining a steady voice, “My relationship with Sylus is none of your concern. I don’t wish to speak about this with you any further. Have breakfast without me I’m not hungry anymore”, you say as you retreat back to your room.

You leave him standing alone in the kitchen and he sighs as he places a hand over his face. Will things ever go back to how they were?

xoxo

It’s late at night and Caleb lays awake in bed staring at the ceiling replaying your conversation over and over again like a broken record. You stayed cooped up in your room for the rest of the day insisting you weren’t hungry and that you just needed space. He feels like such an ass but he doesn’t know what to do to fix this rift between you two but he knows laying in bed sulking isn’t going to do anything.

He gets up and walks through the halls to your room. He hesitates by the door but works up the courage to knock, “Hey Pip-squeak, I just wanted to talk, are you up?”.  He waits but he doesn’t receive a response. He’s not going to give up that easily. He opens your door and is shocked by what he sees.

Your eyes are closed and you’re writhing on the sheets with your fingers plunging in and out of your pussy while you’re inhaling the scent of his shirt moaning wantonly. Sweat glistens on your skin indicating you’ve been at this for a while. He had to stop and pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, yup definitely not dreaming this is actually happening.

“C-Caleb”, you whimper.

Wait, did you just moan his name and not Sylus? He feels himself throb in the confines of his sweats and knows now is the time to finally confess his feelings. You clearly feel the same way, at least you feel something towards him.

You feel a draft against your skin and open your eyes only to see Caleb in the door frame with shock clear on his face.

“Caleb! It’s not what it looks like!”, you yell frantically pulling your fingers out with a whine and flinging his shirt to the other side of the room. Grabbing the blanket and placing it over yourself looking down in shame. You can’t believe he caught you doing that. There's no way he’s ever gonna look at you the same again. You knew you should’ve just left Skyhaven and met Sylus at your apartment.

Caleb begins to walk towards the bed and your heart begins to hammer in your chest not knowing how he’s going to react.

“Can I see your hand Pip-squeak?”, he asks softly, holding his hand out to you.

You hesitantly place your hand in his and he brings your fingers to his lips and sucks moaning at the taste and fluttering his eyes close.

Huh? Did he? Did he just? Your brain completely stops functioning as he sucks all of your arousal off your fingers. His pink tongue peaking out to lick between the crevices of your fingers, being sure to grab every last drop.

“You taste delicious starlight”, he says as he gets on the bed and hovers over you looking at you hungrily.

You are in shock. Is this really happening? Caleb wants you how you’ve wanted him all these years?

“ Caleb”, you gulp, “You want me?”.

“Of course I want you. I’ve been wanting you for years but I need you to understand Y/N\", he takes your chin in his hand and looks into your eyes, “Once we do this there’s no going back to the way things were. I love you Y/N”.

Tears well up in your eyes as you become completely overwhelmed with emotions. You couldn’t say anything and just crash your lips against his. His plush lips were warm and soft against your own and they felt heavenly. You card your fingers through his hair and pull at his nape to deepen the kiss as he nibbles on your lower lip silently asking for entry. You open up for him and he swallows every moan that leaves your mouth.

Caleb can’t believe this is actually happening. Warmth consumed him as you breathed each other in. If this is a dream he never wants to wake up from it. He breaks away from the kiss as you both pant heavily. He sits up and takes off his shirt and sweats revealing his smooth creamy skin to your eyes. 

You take him all in and can’t believe how pretty he is. And his cock? Long and thick flushed pink at the tip as precum leaks from him.

He hovers over you and slides his tip between your folds. Your previous actions and the kiss have you soaking as he nudges his tip into your entrance tentatively. 

“You’re ready right Pip-squeak? I don’t know how much longer I can hold back”, he says as he pants while he buries himself into the crook of your neck kissing and biting on your pulse point. Making sure to leave marks all over your neck. He’s praying that you stretched out your hole already with your fingers. As much as he would love to drink you up he needs to be in you now.

“I’m ready Caleb”, you purr kissing his temple.

That’s all he needed to hear. He slides into you in one thrust and buries himself to the hilt. You swore you were seeing the pearly gates. He was so long and thick the stretch burned but it was oh so delicious. To finally have him inside of you had you floating on cloud nine.

“C-Caleb”, you stammered.

Caleb went still. While you probably thought it was to give you time to adjust he was trying his hardest not to cum from just feeling your silky walls grip him. The feeling was so much better than his hand and anything he had ever dreamed. It would be embarrassing and a shame if your first time together ended after just a few thrusts. He took a breath before continuing giving you slow sensual thrusts pouring all the years of yearning behind every thrust.

“Fuck Y/N huh- baby y-youre so tight. You’re taking me so well. This pussy is all mine right?”, he asks as he pushes down on the bulge in your stomach, “Mmmm come on tell me who’s pussy this is”, he groans as he picks up the pace. Hips slamming against yours as he rams into your creamy pussy over and over again loud squelches resounding through the room.

“Y-Yours Caleb”, you pant as you wrap your legs around his waist. This was perfect, he was perfect. You pull his head down as your lips meet again. Emotions swelling in your chest and butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you both climbed higher to your peaks with every thrust. 

He leans up and reaches one hand down between you both circling your clit just the way you like with his thumb. How he knew with this being your first time together evades you but you chalk it up to the deep connection the two of you have always had.

He grips the pillow behind you and places it under your hip with his other hand. It puts your hips at an angle so he can fuck into you deeper and he hits that spot that has you seeing stars when you close your eyes.

“Come on starlight, I know you’re close. Be a good girl and cum around my cock yeah. I-I need to feel you”, he rasped breath tickling your ear.

“Caleb I’m gonna ah- I-”, you couldn’t even finish your sentence before your orgasm overtook you as you shattered vision going black as he kept fucking you. Your head felt fuzzy as he rocked into you over and over again.

Caleb felt himself getting close as your walls started milking him for everything he’s worth until a thought flickered across his mind. You weren’t on the pill. You always said how you never saw yourself being with a partner without protection  and right now he was fucking you raw. If he came in you, would you get pregnant? That thought unlocked something possessive within him, something dark, something feral. He’s quickly succumbing to madness. He thought of your stomach plump and round with his child. Breasts full of milk and leaking the sweet ambrosia for him to lick up. You glowing like a radiant goddess as you walk around cradling your stomach but most importantly it would show everyone that you were his. And just like that there’s no way he’s pulling out, he start’s fucking you in a frenzy.

“G-gonna breed you starlight. Gonna fill you up to the point you’re dripping with my seed for weeks. Fuck do you want that Y/N? Come on, tell me you want it as bad as I do. P-please”, he begs.

Your eyes shoot up and widen in surprise. Breed!? As much as you weren’t expecting this you’d be lying if you said you never thought of having a family with Caleb before. You know he’d be an amazing father and you’ve fantasized about this exact situation so many times there’s no way you want him to pull out.

“Mmm breed me Caleb, f-fill me up, ahh- make me yours”, you say looking up at him with hazy eyes and a cock drunk smile on your face and God are you gorgeous like this. It’s not long before he’s thrusting into you erratically and you feel his hot cum shoot into your womb pushing you over the edge yet again as he claims you as his. Bure bliss shooting through his veins as he makes you his.

You thought he would stop after a few more thrusts but instead he cages you in between his arms as he puts his forehead to yours sloppily fucking into your sopping pussy. “Cant stop baby, this pussy is too good she’s sucking me in”, loud squelches echo through the guest room as he fucks his cum deeper into you the excess dripping down the curve of your ass onto the sheets below, “This pussy is fuckin mine, you hear how much she loves me fucking her”, he slurs as he fucks you both through overstimulation. He’s completely pussydrunk, not a thought going on in his head besides you but he just can’t help it after finally having you in his arms after so long. To know that you feel the same way he feels about you has his heart fluttering and love swelling in his chest. He looks down between you two and sees a white frothy ring at the base of his cock and groans at the sight. 

He slides his hands on top of yours and interlaces your fingers together and your heart feels like it’s about to burst with the way he’s looking at you. Eyes full of love and devotion.

“I love you Caleb. I love you so much. N-Never leave me Caleb. Please never again”, you beg as tears stream down your face.

“Never again angel. I promise I’ll never leave your side again”, he says as he kisses away your tears before he thrusts one more time shockwaves of pleasure rippling through his body as he cums again filling you up to the brim. He finally stills and you both are painting heavily staring into one another’s eyes speaking more than words can ever convey.

He plants kisses on your temple, cheek, nose, jaw, all over causing you to giggle.

A sweet sound that’s music to his ears after the tension that was brewing between you two but he can tell that it’s faded away. That a bridge has formed over the chasm that separated you two. That you were finally close to healing.

“I don’t want to pull out starlight, can we sleep like this?’, he questions looking down at you.

“Of course Caleb”, you say, planting a sweet kiss on his lips.

He rolls over onto his back with you on top of him and cradles you to his chest before pulling the covers over both of you. You fall asleep in his arms to the sound of his heartbeat.

[aylacavebear]

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 26

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 6666 - A/N: No, I did not plan that, lol

Warnings: Dean being Dean, navigating being an empath, suggestive thoughts, a nightmare.

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 26

Even though you pushed for answers, neither Crowley nor Sam gave you any during lunch. The excuse they gave you was that you needed to eat first. So, you begrudgingly dropped the topic. Light things were talked about, but nothing that had to do with the case, the Vaughts, or who had taken you. Dean’s occasional touch on your knee helped keep you calm, which also helped keep him calm. The dynamic was interesting to you, how things worked with soulmates.

Dean carried you to one of the sitting rooms, following everyone there. One of the servants carried another cup of coffee for you, at your request for the need of more caffeine. You carefully got comfortable after Dean set you on one of the couches before joining you. You wanted to snuggle into him, but the servant handed you the coffee, so you stayed sitting up more. So, Dean snuggled close to you, feeling your need to be close.

Thanks

You’re welcome.

For a moment, you stopped breathing as your eyes went wide, and your heart began pounding. Dean just chuckled a little as your favorite smirk of his appeared.

Oh, I’m going to have fun with this.

Stop it.

Dean chuckled again but kept his thoughts to himself as the others just watched the two of you curiously. You quickly composed yourself and tried to focus, taking a sip of your coffee, while your heart raced at how interestingly different things were going to be.

“Now, if the two of you can focus, we can begin,” Crowley began, not amused in the least at the two of you. He picked up the remote and clicked on the TV, pulling your attention to the news broadcast.

Goosebumps not only danced down your entire body, but they lingered for far longer than usual. Dean sat up more, now just as focused on what was playing out on the screen. A news reporter was in the front, but it was what was going on behind her that had both of your attention. Six men and one woman were handcuffed and being put into the back of police cars. You only recognized the Vaughts and the man from your nightmare, but Dean recognized them all.

“Thanks to that piece of paper you grabbed, they were arrested a few hours ago,” Sam told you with the softest, most relieved smile you’d seen on him yet. “It was instructions, kind of like an itinerary of what they were supposed to do. Between that and the footage from the security cameras here, they all got arrested.” You let out a sigh of relief, and for the first time in what felt like months, you actually felt safe. Dean put his arm around you, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as you leaned into him. You were both safe now, but then you began wondering about the case.

“Wait. How is that going to affect my case?” you asked curiously without moving away from Dean.

“Well, that’s the good news, love,” Crowley pipped in, seizing the opportunity. “Your mark has fully come in. With Dean’s name there now, the judge has ruled in your favor. Plus, with that piece of paper and security footage, the Vaughts went against the court order.” A devilishly pleasant smile almost made the man look happy. “There is still paperwork that needs to be taken care of, but you’re free to go. You won’t have to appear in court again. I’ll make sure the Vaughts and those that kidnapped you won’t be able to get out on bail either,” Crowley added, and you found it odd to see the man happy.

Something was still bothering you, but you couldn’t put your finger on it, and that bothered you more. “Will anyone else come after me?” you finally asked, feeling the anxiety tighten in your chest. Dean tried to soothe you, but you’d been so worried for so long that you worried there was something missing. Some loophole the Vaughts could exploit.

Sam and Crowley exchanged a look before both of them focusing back on you. “No. We’ll take care of everything here.” Sam replied, wondering if you had some dream or vision, a premonition of something you hadn’t shared. He wouldn’t bring it up, knowing full well it could push you into one if he did.

You leaned back, trying to relax as Dean held you close. Feeling everyone’s emotions was still a lot, and there were a lot of people in the room. “Guys, she needs some breathing room,” Dean told them, forcing himself to take slow, deep breaths so your anxiety didn’t consume him. He was going to need some adjustment time, too. The walls you had had up were now gone, which meant he felt everything. It was easy when it was just the two of you, but the interestingly weird thing was when you felt other people’s emotions, and that bled through the connection to him. 

Everyone but Ellen left the sitting room. She watched them go before looking back over at you. “Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked, her voice laced with the worry and concern you felt from her.

“Not really. I just have to get used to this,” you replied, chuckling dryly before setting your empty coffee cup on the side table.

She came over and gave you a hug before heading out of the room, leaving you and Dean alone. Neither of you had to say a word. He just held you close as you snuggled against him, trying to relax again. Your mind was racing with questions, but now, they all had to do with how you were going to navigate the world, being able to feel other people’s emotions.

“You know, you aren’t alone in this,” Dean’s tone was soft as he spoke, gently running one of his hands over your hair. “I can feel them too, through the connection when they get too much for you.”

You shifted a little so you could look up at him, tilting your head a bit. He smiled softly down at you.

God, you’re adorable.

A blush crept into your cheeks, widening his smile. He tucked another stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I like that shade on you. So, when do you want to head out? I’m looking forward to putting all this behind us.” Dean asked, hoping that going home would help you relax more. To be somewhere familiar.

He watched the gears turning in your mind, felt you weighing going back versus staying longer. “I guess whenever you feel like driving. I don’t want to be on a plane with all those people.” 

“Then let’s go get our stuff together and tell Benny so he can get ready, too,” Dean replied happily before kissing your forehead.

The moment he went to stand, though, you reached out and held his arm. “Can you send someone in to keep me company? I don’t want to be alone,” you asked, feeling an almost instant panic at the thought of being alone. You knew it was from having been kidnapped and your fear of the Vaughts, even if they had been arrested.

Dean instantly pulled you close again, “Of course,” he replied, trying to reassure you, struggling with the panic that flooded through the connection. “I’m looking forward to the day you aren’t afraid anymore.” He whispered, taking a moment with you before he stood and went to the door. 

He only looked out, your eyes staying on him as he hollered for Ellen, who quickly appeared in the doorway. “Hey, I need to go get things packed and talk to Benny. Can you sit with her? She doesn’t want to be alone,” Dean asked, putting on a strong front for now. He had to focus on the task at hand.

“Sure. Take Benny with you, at least. I’m sure she won’t want you to be alone either,” Ellen replied with that concerned smile before heading into the sitting room and taking a seat next to you. “How you holdin’ up?” she asked as she gently brushed a few strands of your hair from your forehead to behind your ear as you met her gaze.

For a moment, you focused on breathing. Other people’s emotions were a lot on top of what you were already feeling, plus Dean’s mingling with your own. The conglomerate of it all made you a little shaky. “It’s a lot, and I still don’t feel safe,” you confessed quietly.

Ellen held you close, gently running her hand down your hair like she used to do when you were little, bringing you a comfort you hadn’t even realized you missed, and needed. “We’re all here to help in any way that you need us, Sweetie,” Ellen told you gently, even if she wasn’t completely sure how to help. 

I’m still okay, Sweetheart. Benny and I are almost done.

The whispered thought brought a smile to you. “Are there any books or anything on empaths that might help me with this?” you asked Ellen as you pulled back so you could look at her. 

She had to think about that one. Empaths were rare. “I don’t know of anything right now, but I can do some research when we all get back. I’m sure the others won’t mind helping too.” 

“Thanks. I really appreciate it,” you replied, feeling slightly more relaxed.

When Dean and Benny were done packing, you said your goodbyes to everyone before sliding into the passenger seat as Dean held the door open for you. It had taken some convincing, but Dean eventually let you walk on your own. He still wasn’t about to let you carry anything with your wrists still bruised like they were.  Benny was already in the back, and the bags were already in the trunk. Dean hugged everyone one last time before Meg slid into the back seat behind Dean.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Dean asked, turning so he could look at her.

Meg just gave that signature smile of hers and leaned back in the seat. “With the three of you. Already had a bag ready to go.”

“What, you’re just gonna up and leave your entire life here, just like that?” Dean asked her, a little puzzled, while also not wanting to have to deal with her on a very long drive.

You just looked over at the interaction, trying not to chuckle. Then, you set your hand on Dean’s forearm. “She wants to meet her soulmate. Wouldn’t you want to do that if you’d been looking for years, like she has?” you asked him with that soft, understanding tone.

Dean sighed as he looked at the roof for a moment, then just shifted again and started the engine. “We’re not stopping every two hours so you can pee,” he grumbled, but it was more a front he put on around people he didn’t know very well. Dean was looking forward to seeing Cas’s reaction, but he was also happy that his friend would finally have his soulmate in his life.

You scooted over closer to him, sitting in the middle, leaning your head on his shoulder as he pulled out of Crowley’s driveway. It was easier to block out other people’s emotions when you were closer to him, and you wondered if it had to do with being his soulmate, being an empath, or if it was possibly something deeper. His emotions were just stronger, and they mingled with yours in a comforting way, like a soft blanket on a cold winter’s day.

What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?A small giggle slipped out when you heard that whisper through your mind. You can hear my thoughts. You tell me.

It was Dean’s turn to chuckle as he focused on the road. I can’t hear everything. Just what you are thinking hard on.

I just want to learn how to work with this being an empath thing.

Dean sighed. He had a feeling it was something like that. Crowley gave me some books for you. They’re in my bag.

You moved just enough so you could look up at him, a small, loving smile matching how you felt. 

“Can we at least have some tunes if you two are gonna have your own private conversation?” Meg pipped up, slightly annoyed from the back seat, making both you and Dean chuckle.

He reached over and turned on a rock station, then set his hand on your leg just above your knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. You slide your hand down his arm, feeling the way his muscles twitched slightly under your touch as you softly traced his fingers before intertwining your fingers with his. When he let out a shaky breath, you looked up at him.

You okay?

His heart rate had sped up, and he was trying to even his breathing back out. You have no idea what you do to me, Sweetheart.

A blush crept into your cheeks as you laid your head back on his shoulder. Sorry. 

Stop apologizing. I thought we got past that months ago.

That was going to be difficult, not apologizing in your head, as you almost thought it again. I said it in my head a lot. I’ll work on that. Dean gave your fingers a gentle squeeze as you sighed. It was his way of giving you reassurance. I’ll try not to distract you while you’re driving.

Dean chuckled quietly. You distract me without even trying, if I’m being honest.

You looked up at him for a moment, slightly confused at his thought.

See, like that. You’re adorable when you have that confused look.

Another blush crept into your cheeks as you rested your head back on his shoulder. It’s gonna be a long drive.

Dean laughed a little at that one but focused back on the road. It would be a long drive, but things were different this time, you’d let him in, and he no longer had to worry about the Vaughts and that stupid marriage contract. Your mark had come in, and it was his name. Dean knew he still needed to tell you a couple of things, but those could wait till after you were safely back home.

Benny and Meg struck up their own conversations in the back seat, a lot of it about Cas. Meg was fairly interested in meeting the man that could possibly be her soulmate. It wasn’t like Castiel was a common name, and if it turned out not to be him, she knew she could always fly back to Cali. You could feel her hope, though, and it made you smile a little. 

The entire drive, there was still that nagging feeling in the back of your mind that something still wasn’t right, but you couldn’t pinpoint it. Dean tried to talk to you about it, but since you didn’t have anything concrete to tell him, he dropped it. He did keep an eye out for the possibility of anyone following them. It had been nagging at him since you had mentioned it back at Crowley’s.

When you needed to sleep, sometime long after it had gotten dark, Dean pulled into a gas station and then let Benny drive with Meg up front. He climbed in the back with you and held you close. The comfort it brought to both of you eventually lulled you both off to sleep. Being in his embrace seemed to drown out the outside world, leaving you in a bubble of only him. 

He’d been your rock for months, and now, he was what shut off the chatter of everything you were still trying to come to terms with, other people’s emotions. It was a place you felt you could truly relax, even with that nagging feeling in the back of your mind. He was safe, and you knew he’d do anything to keep you safe.

The sun was already up when you stirred in Dean’s arms. He smiled, giving you a gentle squeeze while kissing the top of your head. “Mornin’, Sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep.

“Mmm…” you hummed, not wanting to open your eyes and face the day. It was comfortable in his arms, feeling his warmth, his love.

So, neither of you moved, content to stay like that for a while longer. “Next fill up, you’re drivin’,” Benny chuckled when neither of you sat up.

Dean just smiled and pulled your body ever closer to his, if that was possible. His hand that was wrapped around your waist moved over your stomach, and you instinctively pressed against him.

God, I can’t wait to have you all to myself.

You had to stifle a giggle, and you mostly managed to, especially when you felt his semi-hard cock pressed against your ass through both your layers of clothes. But I didn’t do anything.

He just chuckled quietly. It’s called morning wood, Sweetheart. 

Now, you had even more questions but were too groggy to think clearly enough to ask. Plus, it flustered you slightly, having never been with anyone. Dean rubbed his hand gently down your arm, soothing the worry that had started building. You worry too much.

You huffed a little, which made him smile, knowing you were also pouting. Dean leaned up on his elbow, then turned you a little so you were more on your back. With his free hand, he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, all the while gazing into your eyes. Your breath hitched in your chest, seeing and feeling the love, adoration, and desire from him. He smirked, that small, playful one you loved.

Too bad it’s not just the two of us.

You glared at him playfully but leaned up and gave him a quick kiss, pulling a quiet groan out of him when you pulled away.

“You two better not be up to anything back there,” Benny stated from the driver’s seat, sounding like the chaperone on a date, making Dean laugh and you giggle.

Dean looked up at him. “Don’t worry. I can be patient.” 

Benny laughed and shook his head as Dean looked down at you again. “I’ve been patient for a long time. I can wait till you’re ready,” he told you softly, giving you a tender kiss before he snuggled back up with you. He’d cuddle with you at least until he had to drive again. You did for him what he did for you, mostly. Having you in his arms calmed his soul, giving him that feeling of being whole again.

I love you. It was the only thought that seemed to sum up what you felt for him. He made all the loneliness go away, as if it hadn’t been there at all. 

The rest of the drive was uneventful. When Dean took over driving, you swapped places with Meg. Occasionally, you sang along to some of the songs that came on the radio. Sometimes Dean joined in; other times, he just stole glances at you while he drove. “I’ll bring your Baby back tomorrow. I think we could all use a day to recuperate after that drive.” Benny told Dean once Dean had parked out front of your house.

“A day to recuperate sounds amazing,” Dean sighed as he got out and opened your door for you. He even held out his hand for you to take, pulling a smile from you.

“Such the gentleman,” you teased playfully, taking his hand and stepping out of his car.

“Only for you, ma’lady,” he replied before kissing the top of your hand and making you giggle. It was one of his favorite sounds that you made. Although, he was looking forward to hearing what other sounds he could get you to make, as those would probably end up being his new favorites.

Meg rolled her eyes, “Geeze, get a room,” she groaned as she slid into the passenger seat.

Dean couldn’t help himself. “We’ve got a whole house, why stick to one room?” he quipped back, giving you a look that made your breath hitch in your chest again. He knew what he did to you and really couldn’t help himself.

Benny just laughed and shook his head. “I’ll see you two tomorrow. Gotta get Meg set up in a hotel for the night,” he replied, sliding into the driver's seat and starting the car after Dean grabbed both your bags out of the trunk. “Just don’t do the introductions without us,” Dean called over his shoulder as he put his hand on your lower back and led you to the front door. “Relax, Sweetheart. It’ll be okay. I’m not going anywhere,” he tried to reassure you, not quite sure why your anxiety had spiked.

The memory of those men breaking in while you and Dean were in the bunker came flooding back the closer the two of you got to the front door.“Can we sleep in the bunker tonight?” you asked quietly, trying to get that worry to go away. 

Dean looked down at you before unlocking the front door. “I don’t mind.” His tone was calm, but he was getting concerned. 

The two of you headed straight to the bunker after Dean locked the front door. Your worry only seemed to get worse as you got closer to the door. But the moment both secret doors were closed, you finally relaxed again, even if your heart was pounding in your chest. Dean set both bags down on the floor near the couch before he pulled you into his arms.

“Will you talk to me about what has you so worried, please?” he asked gently.

You wrapped your arms around him and relaxed in his embrace. “I don’t know what it is. Something just feels off. I don’t know why I don’t feel safe out there. Maybe it’s from being kidnapped, and I just need some time to get over that.” you replied quietly, your voice shaking a little.

“We’ll take all the time you need, Sweetheart,” Dean sighed, wondering if perhaps it was deeper than that, but he wasn’t ready to broach that topic. He knew he had to tell you that you had premonitions, but that was going to wait till you were calmer. “Come on, let’s get you unpacked and see what's in those books Crowley gave me for you.” 

With a shaky breath, you let go and pulled away. You did feel safer, just not completely. Dean grabbed your bag and followed you into your room, setting it down on your bed. As you unpacked, he went back into the living room, going through his bag. He set the books on the coffee table, then smiled when he finally found the little box with your birthday present in it.

For a few moments, he just stood in your doorway, leaning against the doorframe, watching you unpack. You were calmer than the last time the two of you had to hide away down here. He watched the way you moved, with a grace he’d come to admire about you. Even when life was hard, you always found something to ground you.

“You know, I know you’re watching me,” you told him, smiling a little as you hung the dress back in the closet, not even looking over at him.

He pushed off the doorframe, making his way into your room. “Then it looks like I’m gonna have to work on being a little sneakier,” he teased, coming up behind you as you reached for an article of clothing from your bag. “Happy Birthday, Sweetheart.” His words were soft, his emotions washing over you like a soothing wave of warmth as he held out a small box in front of you.

Your eyes went wide for a moment. You’d completely forgotten it was your birthday. Slowly, you took the box from Dean, looking up at him before back down at the box. “You didn’t have to get me anything.” 

Dean chuckled a little. “I know. I wanted to. I picked it out before we came down here the first time.” he replied, and you heard the smile in his words. He rested his hands comfortably on your hips, his chin resting on your shoulder as you slid your thumb over the smooth material of the small dark blue box. A soft smile found your lips, and you slowly and carefully pulled the box open, revealing the silver pendant, a wrench on a silver chain.

You felt tears of joy as your chest tightened to fight them back, overcome with emotions you hadn’t experienced before. It wasn’t the same, getting gifts from family. This, from him, meant more to you than you had words for. Carefully, you pulled the necklace out of the box, rubbing your thumb over the smooth metal of the wrench before Dean gently plucked it from your fingers. You didn’t need to say a word; your emotions crashed over him like waves, but they were gentle. He moved your hair before fiddling with the clasp for a moment, then kissed the back of your neck once it was in place.

It sent a shiver down your spine as his hands slid down your arms, resting on your hips again. “So, you like it then?” he asked softly, resting his chin on your shoulder again.

“I love it, thank you,” you replied quietly as you reached up, holding the pendant between your thumb and finger, leaning back against him with a content sigh. 

Dean placed one more kiss on your neck before he pulled away, reluctantly. “I’m gonna go grab something out of the freezer for dinner,” he told you, but leaned down and left another quick peck on your neck, making you giggle. You turned in enough time to see the smile your giggle had brought, then went back to unpacking. 

It was a quiet evening with him, relaxing. You got to watch him cook again, but this time you got to feel what you watching him made him feel, and the happiness he had from something so simple. Afterward, you did the dishes, like you had before, but this time, he came up and held you close, pulling a contented hum from you.

“I wanted to do this before, but I never wanted to push you,” he whispered as you were rinsing the dishes.

“I’m glad you waited. But this is nice. You can do this any time you want to,” you replied with a small, happy smile. Joy like this was new to you, and you were relishing in the moments you felt it.

The two of you kept to your movie in the evening, having a playful argument over what to watch. A tickling fest broke out for a few minutes as he resorted to dirty tactics to get you to relent to his choice of Back to the Future when you wanted to watch Men in Black. He was the one who relented, though, as getting to hear your laughter was really all he wanted. He’d been very careful, though, not wanting to hurt your wrists by accident. 

Instead of sitting up to cuddle, the two of you were lying down on the couch, with you tucked comfortably against his chest. He would occasionally rub small circles with his thumb against your hip, or you would put your hand over his. It was the feeling of your skin on his that always made you let out that contented sigh. You’d also forgotten about the books that were on the coffee table, deciding to look at them in the morning.

After the movie, you didn’t get up to go to your room. You didn’t want to sleep alone, but you also didn’t want to ask him to sleep next to you if it would be difficult for him. “Sweetheart, get out of your head and stop worrying,” he sighed.

You opened your mouth to apologize, then closed it. “Would you hold me tonight?” you mumbled out, ducking your head down a little, feeling like you were asking a lot of him.

Well, he’d got you to accept him as your soulmate, now all he had to do was get you to relax all the way with him. That would be a challenge, but he was willing to go through whatever he had to, to show you that he would always be there for you.

“You gonna let me help you change again?” he whispered teasingly, trying to help lighten the mood and get you to at least get out of your head.

You instantly blushed, but also giggled. “I don’t know. Can you keep your hands to yourself?” 

“Maybe,” he drawled out, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, gently rubbing his nose along your skin. He smirked when you shivered.

“Tease,” you grumbled, making him chuckle, muffled slightly as he placed a soft kiss against your shoulder.

“Come on, let’s get you in something more comfortable,” he chuckled as he carefully maneuvered himself off the couch without you having to move. But before you could respond or get up, he scooped you into his arms, causing you to squeal and hold onto him. The laughter that erupted from deep in his chest was beautiful to you. I still think you’re a tease.Well, until you’re ready, that’s all I’ll be.

You looked up at him with a playful glare, but at the same time, you were grateful for his patience. So much had happened so quickly in the last week. Some things felt like it had happened long ago, while other things felt like fresh wounds that didn’t want to heal. And to top it off, he felt everything from you now. 

Dean set you gently down on the edge of your bed after kissing the top of your head, then rummaged through your dresser. “So, do you want the tank top and shorts or the baggy shirt?” he asked as he thought back to the things you’d worn most often.

“Umm…” was about all you got out, trying to think about his comfort instead of your own.

He sighed and grabbed the baggy shirt out of the drawer before turning toward you. “I’ll be fine. I’ve slept beside you with you in this before, when you had nightmares.” 

Your shoulders slumped a little in defeat. He’d always been sweet, always thinking of you before himself, just as you had with him. “We’re gonna have to eventually find a compromise.” you sighed.

Dean set the shirt on your lap as he looked down at you. “We will, once you’re more comfortable,” he replied, trying to keep his thoughts to himself and focus only on helping you change.

There was that tension between the two of you again, but it was different now. The way each of your emotions tugged and swirled together was both pleasant and kind of overwhelming. With the silence of the bunker, you were sure he could hear how hard your heart was beating as you lifted your arms over your head.

There was softness in his expression as he reached down and gently pulled your shirt over your head, folded it, and set it on the bed next to you. You were convinced that there were no words that could ever describe what you truly felt for him, what you’d denied until the day before. With your arms still over your head, he slipped the other shirt on, careful of your wrists, but let his fingers trail feather light over your sides, smirking when you shivered.

Tease. You thought while giving him a playful glare. It wasn’t that you were mad at him, but you were still fighting with yourself about going all the way with him. It was both terrifying and exciting to think about, so you tried not to.

Dean chuckled as you laid back on your bed, and he knelt down in front of you, carefully removing your shoes and socks. “I’m trying, okay. I’ve wanted to love you for a long time, and it’s hard not to touch you,” he replied honestly, his words just as soft as his expression.

Your breath hitched in your chest again when you felt him undoing the button of your jeans, sliding the zipper down, and hooking his fingers in the waistline before gently pulling them off of you. Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t think. 

He laughed as he shook his head and stood up. You’re adorable, Sweetheart. With your jeans and other shirt folded, he moved to put them in your dresser as you sat up, sliding your shirt further down and huffing a little. “Mind if I sleep comfortably tonight?” he asked, finding where your clothes belonged in your dresser to put them away.

“What’s comfortably?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, both curious and almost apprehensive.

As Dean slid the drawer closed, he answered you. “Boxers typically. But if you’d prefer, I can wear sweats and a shirt.” 

You involuntarily licked your lips, having wondered what he had hiding under his clothes, to which only your imagination had been able to fill in. “I guess boxers is fine,” you replied, but there was no hiding your thoughts. “You know, if you wanted to see me without a shirt on, all you had to do was ask,” he teased as he began slipping off his shoes.

Another huff left your lips as you crossed your arms, your mind and body at war again, and you averted your eyes when he began pulling his shirt off. He stopped midway through and sighed, kneeling in front of you and resting his hands on the area just above your knees.

“Sweetheart, look at me, please,” he asked gently, and with a defeated sigh, you did. The pout on your lips made Dean frown, knowing it was more from sadness than what he’d typically find adorable. “Will you be my girlfriend?” It was a question he hadn’t thought needed to be asked, but he could feel something holding you back from completely relaxing with him. All he could do was hope that making it official between the two of you would help.

The question made you freeze for a moment, and you swore you held your breath as your lips parted slightly. Dean sighed again as he tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, letting his thumb softly trace down your cheek.

“I know we’re soulmates, but I never asked you to be with me. I want you to be comfortable. I know you’re apprehensive when it comes to anything intimate, and I can respect that. If me being in just boxers is too much right now, I can wear more clothes.” He told you sincerely, slowly feeling you relax and the anxiety of it all dissipating, which brought a small smile to his lips.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, even if the emotions weren’t fully going away. It was how he was always thinking of your comfort that made your heart melt, but your guilt rise. You couldn’t even answer his question about being his girlfriend.

Dean stood up, kissed you on your forehead, then headed out to the living room. He wasn’t sure how to calm your guilt, and his thoughts wandered as he changed into a pair of sweats and a different shirt. The bunker was quiet. The silence a welcome reprieve from the last almost week of having to deal with the trial and your kidnapping. 

When he returned to the room, you’d already gotten under the covers, lying on your side and facing the far wall. I wish you didn’t feel guilty. It’s not your fault. Dean slipped under the covers, lying on his back for a moment and relishing in the softness of your bed before he turned toward you. “You wanna cuddle?” he asked, your emotions tangling with his, and all he wanted to do was feel you relax.

Without a word, you rolled over and scooted closer, resting your head on his chest, your hand over his heart as he pulled you flush against him. He gently rubbed your upper arm as he felt you take a shaky breath. “It’s okay, Sweetheart. We’re safe down here,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

“I’m scared, Dean. I can’t explain it, but it won’t go away. It’s like I’m scared of everything, including getting closer to you,” you whispered your confession, having finally found a few words to explain it.

His heart ached hearing that, but it matched the emotions that had been drifting through the connection. Dean was angry, too, angry at the Vaughts. He blamed them for how your life had gone. Yeah, he’d left after he graduated, but the Vaughts had been the ones who had turned your life into a living nightmare. 

“We’ll get through this, together, and at your pace,” he finally whispered, just holding you close. Dean shifted a little so that he could put his other arm around you, now lying more on his side as you snuggled against him again. You allowed yourself to relax, to let his comfort soothe your worry, your anxiety, and the fear that nagged at the back of your mind. It had been hard to let it go, to believe that everything would be fine now that the Vaughts were in jail and the judge had ruled in your favor. 

The steady beating of his heart calmed your own thudding one, and your breaths slowly evened out again. Feeling you relax allowed Dean to relax, but he didn’t drift off to sleep, not yet. He focused on you. Even when you slipped off to sleep, he could feel that tingle of fear that lingered in the back of your mind, even in your sleeping state, and it worried him.

You were in your living room in the house, it was dark, like you were getting ready for bed. The light from the full moon giving it an otherworldly glow. There was an owl outside that hooted in one of the nearby trees. Humming quietly to yourself, you headed toward the staircase but stopped, feeling that prickling of goosebumps along your skin as a shiver went down your spine. Someone’s watching me. The goosebumps came again as you held your breath, letting go of the railing before turning around. The fear felt like a vise on your lungs, making breathing almost impossible. It wasn’t Dean; he was up in the bedroom waiting for you, and you never felt terror when he watched you. As you slowly turned, you swallowed hard, seeing the man standing there, mere feet from you. Fear pricked your skin in waves, your heart thudding, and all you could do was take shallow breaths through slightly parted lips. “Y- you- you’re supposed-” you couldn’t even get words out. Then, Dean was there, standing next to you, glaring at the man who had broken into your home. Dean’s hands were in fists at his sides, his features hardened as he gave the intruder a glare that would have intimidated anyone else. “If I can’t have you, no one can,” the intruder stated with a sadistic smile as he pulled a gun from behind him, aimed it at your heart, and fired. Dean moved in front of you, the bullet hitting him instead, but you went down with him, cradling his head in your lap. Tears soaked your cheeks as he took his last breath. “Well, that works, too,” the intruder chuckled. “Looks like I can take you as mine now.” You looked up at the intruder, eyes wide as he walked closer to you when everything went black.

“NOOO!” you screamed, sitting up in your bed, panic flooding every cell of your body as you clutched the blankets to your chest.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 27

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[majkemaniiia]

Majke shrugs. It's very good and all for Pip to be reasonable and want to pay, but Majke wasn't asking. "If you want to," Majke says, nonchalantly. "You're welcome to pay if you want, but I'm not going to twist your arm one way or another."

She gives him a slight smirk of a smile.

"But you've kept me from being bored, and that's a noble pursuit, Pip."

@exsqueak-me

Good Luck / Bad Luck || Pip & Majke

[midnight-mourning]

DECEMBER IS OVER!!! New Year, What's Next?

Well chat, with literally three minutes to spare we finished out DCA December IN December, and then of course you got a little bonus thingy as well hehe :)

So! Having said that, wanted to take a moment to talk about some plans, what to expect to see from me next, and so on

BUT FIRST, I would like to take the time to thank everyone who sent in requests for this little event, I appreciated every single one of them, and had SO much fun writing, I hope everyone enjoyed the little stories I wrote, couldn't have done it without everyone sending in such creative & unique ideas, thank all of you so much!

@monsteractiasluna @juukai @deviouscrackers @zenkaiankoku @buzzybee3 @fishm0ther @divinit3a @zoranight16 @cosmic-quakes @soupdweller @lizyxml @pip-plz @theinfamousmaybelle @lizyxml (again <3) @rosescarletful @crystalmagpie447 @buzzybee3 (again <3) @kaprisvn @vypridae @twomanypockets @zenkaiankoku (again <3) @juukai (again <3) @rosescarletful (again <3) @rosescarletful (again <3 <3 thank u tempest you helped feed the people fr) @twomanypockets (again <3) @pip-plz (again <3) @divinit3a (again <3) @baby-bloos @alynwrench @baby-bloos (again <3) @ccccaptain-clownyyy @luckyyyduckyyy

Additionally, thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, or commented on these fics, it's so very appreciated (I would tag everyone but there are, a startingly large amount of you 😅) I will come clean and admit that I am always a little nervous when I upload my writing, so knowing that people enjoy my work when I share it is, humbling, to say the least <3

Okay! Now to get into it, below the cut just so people dont have to scorll through my rambling plans & such (there is a POLL however that even if you skip my nonsense you should vote in pretty please ^-^)

So, despite some shortcomings with me getting a bit behind (curse you sinus infection & finals week) I'm really happy with how this went!

I'll be taking a break for a bit and def will NOT be posting as much as I did near the end there, BUT I'll still be writing per usual, especially since I have two weeks left to my break. Before I get into what you can expect to see, wanted to do a quick interest check on whether people would like me to do something similar for Valentine's!

Since I'll be back at college again I won't be able to do a full month again, buuuut, I should be able to handle 14 days worth, if the interest is there I would open up requests probably the last week of January so I had time to get started/ahead. So,

Rules would be the same as for DCA December, except with a Valentine's Theme!

Now that that's taken care of, here's what'll be going on with me as we start 2025!

I'm working on Holiday Spirit ch. 2, should be posting either today or tomorrow! Still aiming to get it done before I go back to school so expect quicker updates now that requests are finished :) (you can find out more about this story here)

Confused Spirit ch. 36 is also in the works! I'll be honest in that my sinus infection JUST cleared up a week or so ago, and additionally i've been facing a bit of writer's block with the story just bc of where we're at and I want to make sure it's really good/properly expresses what I'm going for with this fic, but I'm working on getting more out to you all soon, as well as working on getting ahead again while I have time, thank you all for your paitence with this one, it's very appreciated <3 (if you don't know about Confused Spirit, you can find out more here, it's my current main dca project :D)

DCA December will be reviewed for spelling and grammar mistakes and be uploaded to ao3 throughout January, if you'd like to read anything again (or you're wanting to get caught up and have a better reading experience) you can see the masterpost here, which will have the ao3 link once I get started on editing

Getting into non-fic things, I'll also be working on organizing my blog so things are easier to find as I know it's a bit messy currently >_< bear with me as it gets fixed up

I really want to improve on my art! After collecting things up for my 2024 art summary, i realized I've improved a lot but still have more room to grow (and many ideas that I want to see made by a more skilled hand >~<) so, expect to see some art things from me floating around including but not limited to: my trick or treat responses (im sorry these are so late, it's brutal out here), Cast of CS refs, more Holiday Spirit doodles, magma things, CS chapter promos, & new refs for the CS boys! there's some more things i have planned but I am keeping them a secret for now ;)

Okay! Think that's everything, thanks again to everyone for making this a whole lot of fun, and can't wait to share more with you all in 2025! Happy New Year!

[pipperoo]

okay, that’s just the most evil thing i’ve ever written

[cyberneticfallout]

Chapter Nine: Wouldn't It Be Nice

Ch 1 - Ch 2 - Ch 3 - Ch 4 - Ch 5 - Ch 6 - Ch 7 - Ch 8 - Ch 9 - Ch 10 - More Coming Soon

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Reader Summary: Tensions run high after the previous night's kiss and The Ghoul reveals a small part of his past. Tags: Slow burn (and I mean SLOWWW), angst, eventually more smut, language, canon-typical violence, chem/alcohol use, more tags will be added Posted on AO3: Smoothie and The Ghoul Word Count: 1.7k

The journey to the old associate is a lengthy one, likely spanning a few days at the very least. The landscape is mostly desolate, with sand dunes engulfing the remnants of old-world buildings. The memory of the previous night's kiss lingers heavily in your mind, leaving you curious about The Ghoul's thoughts on the matter. You resist the urge to ask. Instead you decide to keep your distance from him and look at your pip-boy to distract yourself. Focusing on the device, you navigate through its functions until you locate the radio feature, tuning in to some classic tunes from the past that fill the air.

As the familiar lyrics of “Orange Colored Sky” by Nat King Cole fill the air, you find yourself lost in the nostalgic melody. The rhythmic beat of the song creates a sense of comfort amidst the desolation. The radio crackles and the signal fades momentarily, but you manage to catch the few lines of the song before it returns to full clarity.

Slowing his stride, The Ghoul positions himself next to you. You sneak a glance in his direction, but his expression remains an enigma, offering no insight into his thoughts. However, he begins to hum along with the tune, his voice blending with yours in a harmonious duet. You can't help but wonder what would it be like to sway to the music in his arms. A faint smile tugs at your lips at the thought.

The two of you continue like this for some time, singing softly to the old tunes that fill the air. After a while, he extends a piece of jerky from his bag to you. Gratefully, you accept and savor a big bite. The flavor is unfamiliar, yet surprisingly delicious.

"What type of jerky is this?" you ask.

"Ass jerky.”

"Alright," you giggle, "The ass of what? I don't think I've had this kind before."

"Ghoul," he states plainly.

You burst out laughing at what you assume is a joke, only to realize it's not when he stares back at you blankly, munching on his own piece of jerky.

"...What."

Staring at The Ghoul in disbelief, the realization hits you like a ton of bricks. His stoic expression adds to the surreal nature of the moment, and as the truth sinks in, a wave of nausea washes over you. You start gagging uncontrollably, unable to contain your revulsion at the thought of consuming human flesh. His reaction surprises you as he bursts into laughter at your discomfort, his amusement contrasting sharply with your horror.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?!" you shout, your voice filled with disgust as you dry heave. "Oh my god. It was that dead ghoul I came across, wasn't it?"

"Soundin' like that vaultie," The Ghoul chuckles.

"Not all us vault dwellers come out that naive," you mutter quietly, the words barely audible to him.

"What'd you say?" he questions, eyeing you suspiciously.

"Hm? Nothing," you quickly reply, trying to brush off the tension. The Ghoul's skeptical gaze lingers on you, and without a second thought, you fling the remaining jerky at his face. The dried meat slaps against his cheek with a thud, slowly sliding down his face and plopping onto the dusty ground. The silence that follows is heavy as “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” by The Beach Boys suddenly starts blaring from your pip-boy.

♪ Wouldn't it be nice to live together in the kind of world where we belong? ♪

"Pick it up," he finally breaks the silence.

You raise an eyebrow, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Smoothie," he says, taking a step closer to you. "We ain't wastin’ good jerky just because you're too dainty. Pick… it… up."

Your eyes meet his in a fierce stare, both of you mirroring the intensity. Closing the distance between you, you stand almost nose to nose. As you gaze up at him, you notice the anger in his eyes, but you also catch a glimpse of Cooper Howard peeking through.

♪ After having spent the day together, hold each other close the whole night through ♪

"If you want to watch me bend over that badly, all you have to do is ask," you quip, a playful glint in your eye.

"Two choices, sweetheart,” The Ghoul's voice takes on a dark and gravelly tone. "Either you pick it up like a good girl, or I make you pick it up - and I won't be gentle."

Good girl. You muster all your strength to resist cracking under those words, a smug grin spreading across his face. In that moment, you can't help but wonder if he's being playful or if this is just his usual, asshole self shining through. After all, he has no shame when it comes to this shit.

♪ I wish that every kiss was never-ending ♪

Your mind races for a witty response, the lyrics of the song only adding to the awkward tension between you. His eyes bore into yours, a mix of challenge and arrogance that makes your skin crawl. With a defiant tilt of your chin, you sarcastically remark, "You better be prepared to catch me when I swoon from your overwhelming charm."

The Ghoul's smirk widens, a flash of malice glinting in his eyes as he replies, "Oh sweetie, I don't catch… I watch you fall.“

♪ You know it seems the more we talk about it, it only makes it worse to live without it ♪

As you crouch down to retrieve the jerky, a mix of resentment and anger swirls inside you. The act of picking up the tainted piece of meat feels like a bitter concession, a silent acknowledgment of the power play he has initiated. Standing back up, you hold out the jerky towards him, your gaze hardened with a mix of defiance and humiliation.

The Ghoul plucks the jerky from your hand with a satisfied smirk, relishing the control he holds over the situation. The tension between you crackles with unspoken words and unspoken desires, each gesture and exchange charged with a potent mix of attraction and power dynamics.

The tension between you lingers like a heavy fog as you trudge forward in uncomfortable silence, the music from your pip-boy serving as a strange soundtrack to the awkwardness that envelops you. With the sun sinking towards the horizon, long shadows stretching across the landscape, a sense of unease settles in your chest like a heavy weight.

As darkness descends, a canopy of stars twinkling overhead, The Ghoul's voice breaks the silence, his tone devoid of the earlier hostility. "We'll set camp here for the night. Keep watch while I get a fire going," he instructs, his words cutting through like a knife. You nod stiffly, grateful for the chance to have some space between you.

Sitting by the crackling fire, you wrap your arms around your knees, staring into the flames. The Ghoul settles across from you, his eyes fixed on the fire as well. After a moment of comfortable silence, you finally speak, your voice soft in the night air. "What did you mean the other day when you said you remembered Moldaver differently?"

His gaze shifts from the fire to meet yours, taking a moment to consider your question before answering, “I knew her as Miss Williams.”

“Miss Williams?” Curiosity fills you.

“I met her. Before the war,” he continues, “Which makes me curious as to how she’s still around.”

You ponder for a moment, lost in thought. "Seems like prewar folks are more common than I thought..."

"Oh yeah?" The Ghoul laughs. "You know a lot of 'em or somethin’?"

You chuckle softly at his question. "No, no," you reply, shaking your head slightly. "I just didn't think many people made it this far - ghoul or otherwise. Say... What's something you miss from before the Great War?"

“My daughter.” He answers immediately. His voice is soft, almost a whisper, filled with sadness and longing. The firelight dances across his face, casting shadows that seem to echo the weight of his words. You’re surprised he’s shared something so personal - he had a daughter?

"What is her name?" You ask gently, making sure to refer to her in the present tense, not wanting to add to the sting of her possible death.

He hesitates, his demeanor softening slightly as he considers your question. After a moment, he quietly responds, "Janey."

You rise from your spot and walk over to him, settling down next to him by the crackling fire. "Is that who Sorrel was referring to? Who you've been looking for?" you ask, your voice filled with genuine curiosity.

"Yes," he sighs, his voice heavy with weariness. Despite his usual guarded nature, there is a sense of trust that begins to form between you. "I've been lookin' for over 200 years and ain't found shit. No leads. Until now.”

"Moldaver," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. "Do you think she knows something? Being prewar and all?"

He locks eyes with you, a subtle look of uncertainty in his eyes. "Thats what I aim to find out, Smoothie.”

"Well shit," you say, taking a deep breath before gently placing your hand on top of his. "We'll find your daughter. We'll find Janey, no matter what it takes."

He looks at you with soft eyes, as if no one ever truly wants to help him. Maybe it makes him question your intentions, wondering if you might be deceitful. After all, he knows nothing about you or your past. Will you ever tell him who you really are? Why do you even care so much about him? He flinches slightly at your touch and swats your hand away, a reflex you assume is born of decades upon decades of betrayal and disappointment.

“Sorry,” you mumble as you head back to your spot across from him. “I’m serious though. I will help you find her.”

The Ghoul grimaces and turns his back to you, his posture defensive and closed off. You sense a deep well of pain and longing within him, a father's desperate hope to be reunited with his daughter. Sitting in silence, you give him the space he seems to need to process your offer of help. After a few moments, he finally speaks, his voice rough with emotion.

"I appreciate the offer," he begins. "But this is somethin' I must do alone."

"We'll see about that," you respond, a steely determination in your voice. He gives you a look of annoyance, but you refuse to let him face this alone. This is no longer just a bounty to collect; it is so much more.

Tag List: @fallout-girl219 @ellabellabunny123 @sunnexaltation @coolrobloxkid28 @cheshirecat484 @capan-deveraux2 @rebelmarylou

[jwillbiteyourfingersoff]

Ch.2 : Understanding You

Whats a sheltered vault dweller to do when their kicked from their home? How should they feel? What crushing pain and greif must they feel? More importantly, how do those damn arm-thingys work?

Norm Maclean/Gn!Surface!Reader

Ch: 1

This vaulty is… something else. Hes quiet, reserved, and just generally uninterested in talking with or interacting with me. Hes been feverishly organizing and reorganizing his bag for the few hours we've spent in the same building, only stopping to pace and stare at his arm-thingy. Speaking of…

“Whats that thing on your arm?” I ask, languidly laying on the palette in the corner. His head swivels over to me, my voice breaking relative silence aside from the whistling of the wind. He looks down at his arm-thingy again, looking back over at me blankly for a moment before his brain stops loading.

“My… my pip boy?” He points to it on his arm, the chunky metal device snuggly fit to his wrist. The soft green glow illuminating the bottom of his face.

“Yeah, yeah, pip-thingy.” I wave my hand around in the air before pointing at it myself. “Whats it do?” I ask with genuine curiosity, never having encountered a vault dweller before. They were rare to see on the surface, often shunned or killed for the unique things they carried. I was quite honestly surprised he hadn't been killed yet. He hesitates for a moment, scanning me up and down before walking over to me and sitting down next to me.

“It… it does a lot of stuff.” He angles his pip-boy towards me. “You have a couple buttons, a few knobs…” He scrolls through a couple screens before one catches my eye.

“Wait, whats that special thing?” I poke his arm a couple times to get him to stop scrolling and scroll back.

“Oh uh…” He thinks for a moment “Its like… my ability report. Each letter stands for an ability or trait, like intelligence.” he points at the big I that has an 8 in its column. “It has an eight, which means I’m ranked an eight out of ten on intelligence in my vault. We get our rating based on a menagerie of tests we do every year or so.” He looks over his other scores, flipping past every letter. 

“Soooo, what I’m getting from your little screen is,” I wave my hands expressively around before standing up, bending back down a few inches from his face to make eye contact. “You're a smartass.”

He chuckles, a first for the entire time we've been sitting here together, and rolls his eyes. “You could say that, I suppose…”  He scootches back, getting up and looking down at me as he studies my face, then back down at his pip-boy. “I don't know why I still have it at this point.” He walks past me, his face dropping from the playful smirk he had on before back to the blank stare hes had most of the time we’ve been sitting together. “It shouldn’t really belong to me anymore, I’m not really a vault dweller at this point.” My head tilts to the side, one of my eyebrows shooting up in question.

“You’re wearing the vaulty uniform and got the vaulty tech, why wouldn’t you be a vaulty?” I roll my eyes at him, clearly not buying into what I’ve assumed is an over dramatization. He sighs, staring at me for a moment, opening and closing his mouth periodically seemingly trying to think of a retort. He can't. We revert back down into silence again, this time though, he's not pacing. He stares off into the wall in front of him. I start to feel… bad. We had been bantering before and I knew vaultys could be sensitive but this felt different than someone getting their hackles up over nothing. 

“Ya know,” I begin speaking, digging an arm into my bag and rooting around, “I’m technically not supposed to have these guns or this radway, but I stole it from my old guild.” I pull out two good quality blasters and a good ten radway packs from my bag, smiling lazily at him. He gawks at me for a second before shaking his head and getting a bit aggravated.

“Why are you telling me? Is this a threat or some kind of weird flex?” He yells at me, irritated and realizing my mistake I put that things back in my bag before I respond. He looks genuinely hurt, like I’d struck a fresh nerve.

“Look, I’m not trying to flex on you.” I crawl over to him across the ground, sitting cross legged a few feet across from him. “I wanted to show you that… well I guess, I’m not judging you.” I lean back on my hands, keeping eye contact. “Whatever you did, or whatever they did, or whatever happened regardless, I get getting kicked from a community you thought you could be a part of.” He stares into my eyes for, his blank expression felt like it burned and my face turned red in embarrassment. Had I said something wrong or ignorant? Shit, that was not my intention at all.

“Ok.” He finally responds. With the simple reply, he lays down, turning away from me in a ‘this conversation is over’ kind of way. For the first time in a while, I feel a bit of genuine dejection. I mean weren't vaultys supposed to be all welcoming and sweet? Naive and kind beyond any logical reasoning? What did I do to make this dweller so mad at me? The thoughts spun in my head as I layed down across the room, taking one last look at the back of his head before closing my eyes for another night of restless sleep.

So sorry on the long wait! Schools almost to an end for me (I got less than a month) so you can imagine the work I've been having to do. Anyways, I'm happy to continue this series considering how well it was received! Thanks to everyone who left notes on chapter one, yall were the serotonin boost I needed :3

[salemrph]

The taste of apple and pomegranate

Ch. 7: Three tickets and a lie

Nav: Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 (coming soon) // AO3

Summary: You just wanted to survive university, not fall for either of them—let alone both. Two handsome idiots who somehow made your apartment their second home. You, Sylus, and Caleb were supposed to be just friends. So why does everything feel like their is more going on?

Character: Sylus x f!reader x Caleb // Tara, Rafayel // AU - College, Student

Genre: romantic, fluff, intimacy, sexual content, humor, friends to lovers, poliamore, slow burn

Word count: 3.1k | Reading Time: 12 min | AO3

Tag list: @thechaoticarchivist @peacedreamer14 @blessdunrest @strwberriiblnde @plzdonutpercieveme @sylusqt @sakuraneko-sakupanda-chan @peacedreamer14 @escapeis @plzdonutpercieveme @blorbohunter @yuurisfavblog

Ch 7. Three tickets and a lie

Everything seemed normal, at first. Another night, another takeover. Caleb and Sylus had settled into your apartment like it was theirs, lounging in their usual spots with the casual entitlement of stray cats that had claimed the couch. The smell of take-out still lingered in the air, boxes stacked high in the kitchen creating some greasy urban sculpture. The TV buzzed faintly in the background, but no one was really watching. This is incredibly uncomfortable.

You cracked open a can of beer, the soft pssst cutting through the quiet. A moment later, you slipped out onto the balcony, cigarette in hand, the evening breeze warm against your skin. From here, the city hummed softly below, wrapped in that golden haze that only late spring carries. Everything felt suspended, not quite summer yet, but close enough to taste it.

The wind carried hints of jasmine and distant barbecue smoke. You could hear laughter from another balcony, the faint buzz of a moped passing by. People were shedding layers, windows were left open, and the heat stayed a little longer each day.

But inside that peace wasn't there. Those two were… quiet. Too quiet today, you missed the teasing and the insult that usually flies over your head. They didn't even fight over the last spring roll. You peeked back through the open door. Caleb was half-sunk into the beanbag, arms crossed, eyes on the ceiling. Sylus lounged on the edge of the sofa, one leg bouncing ever so slightly, fingers fiddling with the cap of his water bottle. Not a word passed between them. You narrowed your eyes. Did they really fight? Even that could happen between those two? You leaned against the balcony door frame, eyeing them both with a raised brow. 

“Okay… what is wrong with you two? Did you lose a beat or something?”

Caleb glanced your way, his usual easygoing smile flickering across his lips.

“Don’t worry, pips. We’re…”

“Fine,” Sylus cut in, sharp but smooth, like he’d rehearsed it. “Caleb just messed up in training. That’s it.”

“Hey!” Caleb’s head snapped toward him. “Didn’t...” He stopped, catching Sylus’s look. The one that said drop it . 

Caleb exhaled and scratched the back of his neck, turning back to you with a sheepish grin. “Yeah. Right. My bad. Played like an amateur today.”

The tension between them wasn’t just leftover adrenaline. It had edges, strange ones. You squinted, not buying it for a second. You take one last drag on your cigarette before putting it out in the ashtray. 

“Weird. You two usually fight with volume.” You watched them for a beat longer, then pushed off the door frame with exaggerated casualness. “Hmm.” You took a sip of your beer. 

Caleb looked up. “Hmm what?”

You shrugged, wandering over to the couch and plopping down. “Just thinking. The vibe’s off. Like… way off. No fight, no sarcastic comments, no who can stuff more dumplings in their mouth without dying contests.”

“Kitten…” Sylus exhaled. He wasn’t even looking at you, he was staring at the floor. You leaned into Caleb with a faux whisper. 

“Is he mad about losing his Pretty Boy Title?”

Caleb snorted, but it didn’t carry the usual spark. You nudged him with your elbow. “Come on, something’s up. Did one of you break the bro-code?”

“Bro-code?” Sylus echoed, finally glancing up.

You pointed dramatically between them. “Yeah. You know like, don’t steal each other’s shampoo, don’t crash a date without warning… don’t fall for the same girl…”

You trailed off, eyes narrowing at how both of them tensed at the same girl part. Bingo!

“Oh.” You raised both brows. “Ohhhh. Did I hit a nerve?”

“No,” Sylus said flatly.

Caleb ran a hand over his mouth, like he was holding in a groan. “No one’s fighting over a girl, pipsqueak.”

“Uh-huh. Sure,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “You two? Walking magnets. I bet there’s a graveyard of broken hearts I’ve never even heard about.”

“You make it sound like we’re playboys,” Caleb muttered. Sylus scoffed quietly, but his smirk didn’t reach his eyes. 

You gave them a long, deliberate look. “Aren’t you?” Neither answered. “Mmm,” you hummed, tapping your beer can against your knee. “Sure. But just for fun, if you were fighting over a girl… who’d win?”

“Me,” they said at the same time.

The way they both looked; tense, guarded, just a little too quiet; pressed something cold against your chest. Your gaze drifted between them, studying their body language: Sylus, suddenly fascinated with a torn corner of a take-out box. Caleb, scratching at the back of his neck, like he didn’t want to meet your eyes. Something inside you twisted.

There is someone. You hadn’t meant to think about it, but it was there. There’s someone, and they didn’t tell me. The thought hit harder than expected. You’d joked about it. You’d teased them. But suddenly, the idea that they might have fallen for someone stung. More than it should’ve.

Maybe it was the way they always made space for you in their lives, as if you were permanent. Maybe it was the late nights, the way Sylus always saved you the last dumpling without saying a word, or how Caleb always waited to walk you home even when he said he was “too tired to move.” You sat back, hiding your shift in mood behind a sip of beer. The bubbles fizzed against your lips, masking the bitter taste growing in your chest.

“…Right,” you murmured, forcing a grin. “So nobody’s in love, and everything’s just fine. ”

It wasn't… 

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

Caleb had been multitasking all morning, replying to the team group chat, organizing files for an upcoming project, and stealing glances at your last Instagram story where you were laughing with Rafayel over coffee. It was ridiculous. He knew it was ridiculous. But there he was, half-smiling like a damn fool and pretending the soft ache in his chest was just indigestion. He wasn’t in love, obviously. He was just... overly invested. A little stupid. Perhaps, just tired.

Sylus, on the other hand, had taken refuge in detachment. His poker face was flawless, his composure near surgical. Yet Caleb noticed the way Sylus’s eyes lingered too long on doorways, his irritation flaring when Rafayel’s name came up. There was a wire tension between them ever since the wine incident. As long as Sylus can’t classify this… emotion, he would just keep it down and wait for what happened. 

Meanwhile, you were with Rafayel at his private studio.

Paint-stained hands, lavender-scented incense, and Rafayel sketching loosely as you talked. He was trying to get you to admit something about the two men hovering over you. But your face stayed infuriatingly neutral.

You sit on the edge of the studio table, legs dangling, fingers absently tracing the rim of the coffee mug Rafayel insisted on giving you, some flowery porcelain thing that didn’t match the rest of the mess around you.

Rafayel was sitting on his sofa, paint smudge on his cheek, watching you with that unreadable little smile he always wore when he was about to stir trouble.

“You’ve been weirdly quiet,” he said, tilting his head. “That’s not like you.”

You shrugged. “Just thinking.”

“About your two guard dogs?” His tone was light.

You looked down at the coffee. “They’re acting strange lately. Especially around each other.”

“Mmm. And you?” Rafayel walked closer, voice softening slightly. “Are you acting strange too?”

You hesitated. The words tumbled out before you could stop them. “I don’t know what I feel, Raf.” You look up to the ceiling. “I— I don’t even know where to start… They’re good to me. I care about them. I do. But…” You let out a frustrated breath, rubbing your thumb along the side of the cup. “I just wanted to go on a date. And I suggested that threesome just because I was drunk” you shook your head, the weight of it building. You sighed dramatically. “And anyway,” you added quietly, “it doesn’t matter. It seems like they already have someone in their life.”

Rafayel leaned forward, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes. “Are you sure it’s not you?”

“As if…” 

He shrugged with theatrical nonchalance. “I’m just saying… people don’t start spiraling like panicked jellyfish unless something’s stirred the water.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he held up a hand.

“Wait. Let’s try something else. Just for fun.” His grin softened a bit, a little too knowing. “Imagine you had to go on a date with one of them. Just you and him. What would it look like?”

You stared at him. “Raf.”

“Humor me.” He walked over to you, tapping your forehead. “Picture it. Where would he take you? What would he order? How would he make you laugh? And more importantly…” His eyes sparkled now. “How would he make you feel?”

You didn’t respond right away. Your brain scrambled, images flashing: the way Caleb always handed you your favorite snack without asking, how Sylus pulled you close in a crowd without thinking. How both could feel like a safe place and a storm at the same time.

Rafayel leaned back, clearly enjoying the wheels turning in your head. “It’s funny how people always say they’re confused,” he said lightly, “but when you ask them to imagine what they want —really want? Their body answers before their brain does.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart beat louder than before.

“Yeah, yeah… Truly a genius”

“I am,” he said proudly. “And don’t worry. You’ll figure it out.”

You took a slow breath, your mind betraying you with flashes: Caleb’s smile under golden light. His smile, soft and lopsided, when he handed you his hoodie without a word because you said you were cold. The way he always offered the last fry. Sylus’s fingers brushing yours when you were sitting next to him, watching a movie. The way he’d nudge your drink closer if you got distracted talking. 

You swallowed hard, cheeks warming. Why were you thinking about this now? Worse. Why did it feel like something?

Then more images came, uninvited: the three of you knocked out on the couch after one too many late-night movies, your head on Caleb’s shoulder, Sylus’s arm slung lazily across the backrest behind you. The weight of the blanket draped over you, and the heat of each one was so comforting. You remembered waking up between them, the scent of shampoo and cheap takeout, and thinking just for a second, that you could stay like that forever. Your face was burning now.

You cleared your throat, shook your head once like it might help. They were just friends. Stupidly attractive, deeply confusing friends with far too much history and a habit of being in your space all the time but still. Friends. So why the hell couldn’t you stop smiling?

You laughed under your breath, pushing a hand through your hair. “Honestly? Might be easier if I just went on a date with you.”

Rafayel stilled. The grin he usually wore faltered but not in a bad way. It shifted, like something sharper slid underneath. He took a step closer, closing the distance between you two with that feline grace of his. When he spoke, his voice dropped, low and velvet-soft.

“Do not tease me,” he said, eyes dark, tone suddenly dangerous in a way that sent a pulse through you. “If you keep looking at me… I won’t show you any mercy.”

Your breath caught. He leaned in just a fraction more, his presence humming like static across your skin. “I can promise you, cutie, a date with me wouldn’t be easier. It’d ruin you for anyone else.”

You blinked, heart skipping. Hard. Heat rushing up your neck. “I—I wasn’t— I mean, that was a joke…”

Rafayel cocked a brow. “Was it?” 

Your confidence wavered. Wait… was he actually flirting back? Then, just as quickly, he pulled back with a wink and that infuriatingly soft laugh. The tension evaporated so smoothly it made you dizzy. Like sugar melting into warm tea. You exhaled, unsure whether you were relieved or not.

“Now go back to thinking about the boys,” he teased, flopping dramatically back onto the sofa and snatching his sketchbook. “I want a front-row seat when you fall for them.”

You narrowed your eyes, trying to act unfazed but your pulse hadn’t quite settled. You blinked, flustered and a little breathless, trying to sort out what exactly had just passed between you. Right. Maybe teasing him wasn’t the safest idea after all. Or maybe you were just too easy to fluster today. Your thoughts were already slipping elsewhere. The three of you on the couch, tangled in blankets. You didn’t even remember which movie had been playing. You just remembered how good it had felt.

The weight of it hits you in your stomach at the exact time the door rings multiple times. You jumped slightly, your head snapping toward the door.

Rafayel groaned. “Noooo, I don't want to open the door to strangers. Can you do it Miss Bodyguard?” Somehow, he’d already placed his sketchbook over his face like a makeshift mask, as if preparing for a nap. He looked less like a renowned artist and more like a bored prince avoiding his royal duties.

“Such a spoiled brat” you muttered, pulling the door handle. “What will your fans think of you?”

“Don’t care,” Rafayel replied lazily, waving it off from under the sketchbook.

You sighed and opened the door, already half-preparing a polite Can I help you? but you didn’t get the chance. The door flew open, pushed with a force that caught you off balance. Two tall figures rushed in like a gust of wind.

“Rafayel!” Sylus barked, sharp and cool as glass. Caleb was right behind him, red-faced and clearly pissed.

Behind you, Rafayel let out a dramatic groan. “Oh, what now?”

You nearly got hit by the door. “Whoa—what the hell is going on?”

“Don’t worry, cutie. Just some drama.” Rafayel rose, folding his arms as Sylus marched over.

Caleb lunged first. “I’m gonna kill him—”

“Caleb!” You caught his arm, planting your weight against him, trying to pull him back. “Hey—HEY! 

Sylus didn’t move to help. He was already across the room. “What the fuck was in that wine, Rafayel?” he demanded, each word laced with threat. “You’re lucky I didn’t sue or bury you under your own gallery.”

“Oh, that ?” Rafayel passed by Sylus with ease. “I had it tested. Apparently some deranged fanboy decided to spike the bottle before it got to me. Aphrodisiacs. Very high-end stuff, actually.”

Caleb stopped struggling for a second. Then he cursed, yanked free of your grip, and advanced again. “You absolute freak! We could’ve—”

“Could’ve what?” Rafayel raised a brow, arms still calmly crossed. “Finally worked out all that unresolved tension?”

Sylus gave a sharp bark of laughter. “You really are a caricature,” he said with a tilt of his head. “I’ve met snakes with more charm and less venom.”

Rafayel gasped, clutching his chest in mock offense. “You flatter me.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m gonna smash your perfect face in for drugging us, you asshole!” Caleb moved closer, every muscle in his body tight, ready to launch himself. 

“You drugged them?!” you blurted, stepping between all three. “Are you serious?!”

“Nah, didn’t, cutie,” Rafayel said smoothly, his gaze flicking to you with a disarming calm that just poured gasoline on Caleb’s fire. “The stalker was arrested last night. It’s handled.”

Sylus narrowed his eyes. “So your apology is... what exactly?”

With a grin, Rafayel reached into a drawer and pulled out three glossy tickets. “Amusement park,” he declared. “Full access. VIP bracelets. Unlimited food.”

“You think cotton candy is going to fix this?” Sylus snapped.

“No,” Rafayel said with a shrug, “but it might buy me fifteen minutes of silence.”

Sylus and Caleb looked at him with murderous eyes, the tension in the studio grew bigger. Rafayel, of course, remained entirely unbothered. If anything, his smile deepened with the kind of mischief that belonged more to a fox than a man. “Oh, if you don't want them…” He smoothly pivoted towards you, almost floating. taking your hand in his and pressing a small kiss to your knuckles. 

“Miss Bodyguard,” he murmured, gaze flickering up at you, “do you want to go on a date with me? You looked so down just a few minutes ago.” He was absolutely doing it on purpose.

“Eh?” you stammered, heat spreads on your cheeks.

Rafayel pouted childishly. “You did say you wanted to go on a date with me, didn’t you? We could have so much fun.” He pulled out his phone as if it were scripted, thumb already moving across the screen. “Oh! I can even ask Thomas if we can get a hotel reservation, too. Maybe in the suite with the sunset views over the park. Very romantic.”

The atmosphere shattered.

The aura around Sylus and Caleb swelled with terrifying intensity, almost monstrous. They were about to explode. Caleb stiffened, his hand clenching into a fist so tight you could hear the faint creak of his knuckles. Before Rafayel could utter another word, Sylus lunged forward with a fury that startled even you. His hand closed around Rafayel’s collar, yanking him back from you. 

“You really have a death wish…” Sylus growled. 

“Woah—Sylus!” you stepped forward. Caleb was behind him in an instant, like backup firepower. 

“Let go of him, Sylus.” Caleb looked just as close to throwing a punch. Maybe even more so.

Rafayel, to his credit or insanity, simply chuckled. “Ah,” he mused, “so the guard dogs do bite.”

Before anyone else could speak, Caleb snatched the tickets out of Rafayel’s hand with a growl. “You’re lucky I’m too tired.”

Sylus finally released Rafayel, but not before giving him a sharp shove that sent the artist stumbling back a step. His gaze, however, remained fixed on you, unreadable but undeniably intense.

Rafayel smoothed his shirt as if nothing had happened, then turned to you with a soft, almost dreamy smile. “So brutal...” he purred, brushing an invisible fleck of dust off your shoulder, “it must be exhausting to be loved so ferociously, cutie.”

You blinked, completely thrown.

He leaned in just a bit closer, voice a whisper meant only for you. “You really don’t see it, do you?” A teasing glint danced in his eyes. “They’d burn cities for you. And all I did was mention a hotel.”

Then he stepped back and twirled toward his easel like a man who hadn’t just nearly gotten throttled. “Anyway,” he chimed brightly, “this’ll make a stunning painting. Everyone out, inspiration is calling me.”

Release every 1-2 week

Nav: Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 (coming soon) // AO3

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[sunny374940]

Shadows Falling ch.13 (A summer storm)

The Shadows are here again! Rhys experiences some anguish and ivents a magical gamma knife. Oh, and he also plays dragons. It's fun.

Here on ao3

A snippet below:

“We’re gonna play dragons!” Pip announced. “I’m a dragon and you’re a knight and Cee’s gonna be a prince in a tower and you gotta save him!” Ciaran was asked to get inside his tower, which was conveniently situated on Rhys’s bed, and Rhys armed himself with a rolled up paper for a sword and a pillow for a shield. The battle was long and bloody, but at last the dragon lay defeated in the rubble of the tower. The blankets would take some untangling. “You gotta kiss your prince,” the dragon growled with its last breath. “Or it’s not right.” Rhys looked at his prince, who was sitting there cross legged in the rubble, beautiful in his flowery tunic, watching him expressionlessly. “Come on, Uncle Hiss. You gotta!” The dragon was getting quite agitated and Rhys wanted nothing more than to kiss the prince. If only the prince could give any indication of wanting this as well. A dragon’s claw poked him in the thigh. “Go on,” it suggested. “He doesn’t bite.”

@spinfins, @redheadsramblings, @mercars-musings, @starfleetteddybear, @notyourmamasdeerbat, @sorrowsfallallaround

[colonel-caleb-xia]

Im going to rant to you because my teeth hurts, i have braces and i need to use this..rubber thingies to pull my teeth inwards, it hurts but at the same time it doesnt?? my teeth feels heavy because of it and its annoying, i also have a hard time speaking bc of it, its making me sound like i have a lisp(i might have since i cant roll my Rs and pronounce words with s/sh,ch, and t). Anyways that's all, love ya

(I had those too, I'm so sorry but hopefully they get better soon!)

I'm sorry pips, what can I do to help?