Three instances where Caleb Xia felt afraid of the person you were.
In truth, he couldn't quite measure the fear the way a normal person could. He'd seen it all. He's faced off Wanderers that could shred you to pieces without much effort. He's survived several assassination attempts, only one taking his arm in the process. He'd drifted into the inky black darkness of space and came back out the same.
But watching someone like you fight with an Evol that volatile and destructive like it didn't cost you a single thing was exhilarating. The way you moved was wild and unpredictable. Too wild. Too unpredictable.
You fought like you had nothing to lose.
And wasn't that terrifying, when he knew that you had so much to lose. You had a family. You had friends. You had dreams and aspirations with a full life ahead of you. And yet, you were choosing to fight like you never had them to begin with.
What made you so twisted that you so willingly chose to throw your life away?
The second instance was understanding that you were not at all what you seemed. He thought he knew you. Cool. Relaxed. Kind. You got along with almost everyone you met. Your emotional maturity was almost envious. Nothing quite got under your skin as you brushed off insults and complaints with a roll of your eyes and a shrug of your shoulders. "Some people are always going to hate you no matter what you do. So, you might as well just learn to live with it and enjoy your own life." You said once over a dinner date.
Caleb thought he knew you. He truly thought he knew the levels of your anger. He knew when you got annoyed. He knew when you were frustrated. He knew when you just wanted to vent and rant about someone at work. He knew what triggered you. He knew what actually pissed you off.
But to see the true scope of your anger wasn't a violent outburst of power. It wasn't an explosion that led to a fist fight. It wasn't bloody knuckles or busted lips or broken bones. It was so much colder, with malicious intent as you attacked not with your hands but with your words. You didn't speak to intimidate. You weren't trying to win an argument.
You wanted the person that dared to fully piss you off to break.
Vulnerabilities. Secrets. Insecurities. It didn't matter. You hit below the belt. You stabbed them in the back. You threw their mistakes back in their face. Caleb realized you paid far more attention to people than you let on. You knew what would hurt them the most and sat with the knowledge like it was ammunition you weren't ready to use yet.
How terrifying that the person that people looked towards as a friend and confided in was the one person they never should have trusted? That you were willing to set the bridge on fire while they were still crossing just to watch them fall.
Caleb couldn't pretend he wouldn't have done the same thing. He couldn't sit there and judge you when he was just as messed up as you were. The true terror that lied within him was knowing you could easily turn on him and you knew, very down in the depths of your heart, what could absolutely destroy him.
The final instance was when she came back into his life. When the life he lived with you, sharing a part of his home and even a tiny speck of his heart with you, would end.
Caleb knew the day would come that he'd put an end to the relationship he built with you. He just didn't expect it to happen so fast. He never told you, but you never needed him to.
He prepared himself emotionally, mentally and physically. He wanted to give you one final day filled to the brim with excitement and happiness before he delivered the news, because he was so sure that you were going to hate him.
Nothing he did prepared him for your reaction.
He sat you down and told you he was ending things. He revealed the truth to you about the woman he truly loved and how much it meant to him to be with her. He told you that he never loved you.
But you didn't react the way he imagined you did. You didn't scream or yell at him. You didn't tear him apart with your words. You didn't do anything. You just checked your phone, laughing to yourself about something before pocketing it and smiling that you should pack your stuff then.
He thought that you were simply in denial. He thought that you hadn't fully processed his words. He genuinely believed that you were just doing this to fuck with him at this point. He thought... He thought he knew anything about you.
But as you smiled at him, joked with him and teased him that the least he could do was help you gather your stuff from his place, he realized the true terror of someone who could play the part of someone so perfectly human. There was nothing in your eyes.
Your smile reached your eyes. Your voice carried the same casual tone. You responded the way you usually did. You moved like you always did as you packed your stuff. But Caleb couldn't shake off the creeping dread of being in the presence of something so eerily inhuman.
Just how often did you pretend? How long did you keep up the act? How could you so appear so seamless as you went about his home, mulling over what constitutes as yours if you both bought it together. You murmured to yourself as you weighed the pros and cons of taking something with you that you really liked but wouldn't use that often now that you didn't have use for it.
"Aren't you angry?" He whispered behind you as you packed the few articles of clothing you brought in a box, more concerned with the arrangement than the elephant in the room.
"No, not really. Don't you remember what I told you when we started dating?" You looked over your shoulder, smiling at him like you always did. Like he was the only one that deserved to see a smile so full of tenderness and love. That he was the one person that knew the real you. "None of my relationships last. You're just another one that was never meant to be."
How much of it was real? No, he knew it was real. He knew the way you took his face in your hands to pepper kisses all over it that it meant something. He knew that when you looked at him, you saw someone that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. He knew that you meant every whispered confession of love into his skin. He knew that you meant every compliment.
Damn it, he knew that you loved him when you held him through his worst moments. Every single time his hands were stained with blood, you took them in yours without fear or disgust and told him that they brought you so much comfort. Every shared laugh meant something. Every look meant something. Every kiss meant something.
The terror wasn't that he felt he was tricked. He wasn't.
It was the fact that the moment he betrayed you, you severed your ties. You didn't even flinch as you took all those moments you shared with him and lit them up without a second thought. In your mind, in your heart, they no longer meant a single damn thing.
He wasn't a friend. He wasn't a stranger. He was something you were tolerating and playing nice with until you were done with him.
And that hurt far deeper than he could ever imagine.
f!reader x Xavier | non-mc!reader x Xavier | unrequited love | plot twist | angst | there's gonna be grammatical errors | might have lore mistakes my bad
Xavier knew something was wrong the day he saw you sitting on his couch, uninvited with an awkward smile on your face.
He knew that you, out of everyone that remained of the Backtrackers, remained dutiful and isolated from the rest of the team. You didn't show up unannounced without a good enough reason. And yet, there was no great exigency that caused you to break into his home and watch day time television on his couch.
"The mechanic shop you had me maintaining near the outskirts of the N109 Zone is under repair after some nasty Wanderer situation. So, hope you don't mind me crashing at your place."
"Could you not stay at Philos?"
"You forget I'm still angry at Jeremiah. Yeah, no, that's not happening unless you want him knocking at your door demanding compensation for all the flowers I'd destroy out of spite."
"The flowers are innocent."
"Don't care."
And yet he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about you. You never specified exactly what happened, however, crucially, he never pressed you for more details aside from one or two questions that you vaguely answered.
You crashed in the spare bedroom, yet each morning he always saw you on the couch, no matter what odd hours of the night he woke up. You would just wave at him, watching whatever was on. He never took you as the type to indulge in modern television, investing your time in dramas and sitcoms like you had nothing better to do.
"So, if I'm understanding this right, Kim is in love with Taeha, but because of the historical accuracy this show is trying to present, they can't be together because they're both men and being gay is illegal?"
"I'm not even sure what's going on because you've been watching this for the past three days and I just started right now."
"Okay, but, what would be your opinion on that? Would it just be better to elope somewhere and move away?"
"If I understand it based on this half-hour you've made me watch, I don't think that's possible. They're both in the military to start off and Taeha is his commanding officer. They'd be hunted and killed for deserting if they made that attempt."
"Tragic."
"Sure, but since when did you commit so hard to watching dramas? The last time I saw you, your commitment was towards monitoring everything you could about the current technological advancements."
"Mnm, I was. I simply hit a cap point for now and thought a hobby was in order. Besides, I like hanging out with you."
And there was just something about the way you turned to him, eyes soft and smile so tender that made him realize that he never really got to know you. He'd never taken the time to really learn about your likes and dislikes. What other hobbies did you have? Did you try to make friends here, like he and Jeremiah had?
Were you happy with the way things turned out? Did you have any regrets? Did you have any doubts?
Did you feel like you were withering away here?
For the time being, he made the effort to try to learn more about you. He hung out with you more, finding a nice TV show to watch together. He learned what made you laugh the hardest or what trashy show ended up being a guilty pleasure. He learned that you were closeted romantic, catching the tears in the corner of your eyes as you tried to disguise the sniffles when the couple finally kissed.
Before he really knew it, months had gone by with you in staying at his place. He grew accustomed to your presence in his home, always greeting him when he came home and wishing him pleasant dreams when he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. He woke up with a blanket over him more times than he could count.
"I noticed something about you."
"Mnm, what's that?"
"You've been wearing the same sweater the entire time. I don't think you've taken it off. With how often you wear it, I can't imagine all the dead skin cells and sweat that might be clinging to that poor thing."
"I'm sure you've heard of them before, but just in case you haven't, there's this machine that cleans your clothes. They call it a 'washing machine' and it's pretty easy to use. You just toss your clothes in, add some laundry detergent and fabric softener, press a button or two and it cleans your clothes for you."
"Uh-huh. But why not wear something else in the meantime?"
"It's my favorite sweatshirt. You gifted it to me a few decades back, don't you remember?"
"Hm, yeah, it looks familiar. I'm surprised it's still in good condition after all this time."
"I take good care of my gifts, Xavier."
He should've known something was wrong at the time, too. He should have noticed it. Aside from the meter, there was nothing noticeably different about the bills that came every month. No extra water usage. No dip in his food bill when he went out. Even the days he was gone longer on missions, the food in his fridge remained untouched. Not even extra dishes.
You always made the excuse that you ate beforehand every single time, too stuffed to even drink a glass of water. He never took the time to question it, believing more that you just did everything outside of the apartment.
Xavier believed in you, even if his instincts warned him in the back of his mind. He trusted you because you were never lied to him. You never betrayed him. You stood by him when the other Backtrackers turned. You sullied your hands with their blood alongside him, knowing the dangers of losing part of your own humanity. Living with the looming threat that if you lost your sanity, you would turn into a Wanderer just like them the longer you remained.
"She's training to be a Hunter now."
"Mnm, it's been a decade since the disaster hasn't it?"
"It has."
"Worried?"
"No. Well, maybe a little."
"Relax. Her Majesty was rather skilled from what I can remember. I'm sure she'll be alright. Just keep doing what you're doing and keep an eye on her from the defectors and everything should be fine."
"Don't you mean 'we'?"
"... Of course."
He should've known then. He should have questioned you right then and there and pressed for more information. But he didn't. He ignored what his eyes were telling him because you were his friend. Because he grew comfortable around you despite the suspicion gnawing inside of him.
Xavier should have known something was wrong when you refused to go see Jeremiah at Philos. You claimed you were still angry at him, but who held a grudge that long? He never knew what it was that made you resent him so much that you just outright refused to even contact him. Which was why he thought he'd try to smooth things over and ask him while he was getting updates on the other Backtrackers.
"Wait, you're telling me that she's been squatting at your place for months now? And she's still mad at me?"
"This week would mark the eight months she's been at my place. She showed up and said that the shop was in repairs. Though, every time I bring it up, she tells me that the construction was delayed due to the increase in Wanderer activity."
"That's weird."
"She's never lied to us about situations like these before, so I trust her. But, I'm also here to see if I can extend the olive branch. I don't really know what it was that made her hate you so much."
"Hm, I want to see something."
"Dodging the question?"
"I'm looking up the updates from her last entry and something isn't quite adding up. You said she's been there eight months right?"
"Watching TV on my sofa like it belongs to her."
"... Xavier, the last update she gave me was almost a year ago. It's been eleven months. She never missed an update before that."
"That doesn't make sense. I understand eight months since she's been with me, but eleven? Where are the extra three months unaccounted for?"
"No idea. You said she was mad at me, right? Enough to not want to talk to me? But, even if that were the case, if she really had a problem with what I told her, she would just message you, not me."
"... I'll try talking with her. Something isn't adding up."
"Tell her I'm sorry, while you're at it. I... I didn't mean to call her out."
"Call her out?"
"She'll know. It's not something I'm allowed to tell you."
Hundreds of possibilities surged through his head on his way back. Hundreds of potential lies. Hundreds of questions that all led to the one conclusion he refused to believe.
You didn't betray him.
You were loyal.
You stood by his side when all he wanted was to make sure that the woman he loved wouldn't have to be sacrificed time and time again for the sake of a doomed planet.
You turned your back to your comrades. You turned your back to your people that cursed their names for their betrayal. You killed people that you once called a friend. You did it all with him, never once wavering.
Had time finally caught up with you?
Were you finally too exhausted of this life and just wanted to go back home?
He needed to finally quell the suspicions that plagued him. He'd rather make an ass out of himself, questioning your loyalty than be weighed with the guilt that his decisions finally pushed you over the ledge.
And like always, when he entered his apartment, you were there, smiling at him and welcoming him home. The TV was on, like it always was. You were watching reruns of the drama you've probably seen a hundred times already.
But things were different. He wasn't allowing his eyes to be clouded in the presence of a friend, but someone that could potentially ruin all the work they've done these past hundreds of years. He was going to see you for all that you were.
"How was Jeremiah? Still tending to his plants?"
"Yeah. But, we need to talk about something." You hesitated briefly, the corner of your lips tightening a bit before you relaxed yourself.
"Can it wait until after the show is over?" A show you've seen a hundred times already? It wasn't that interesting.
Xavier wasn't going to let you deflect. He walked towards you and picked up the remote, turning it off and standing before you. You closed your eyes, sighing deeply before sitting up and meeting his eyes.
You weren't running away. You never did.
"What's up?"
Too many questions sat at the tip of his tongue, his eyes darting around the room for a moment to take in the environment. Was it... always so cold near you? Is that why you wore a sweatshirt all the time? Was there a draft?
The lights never turned on, but the TV was never off. No matter what odd hours he woke up, be it in the middle of the night or late into the afternoon, you were always sitting right there.
Eight months.
Eight months... and he never got close enough to touch you.
Xavier felt his grip around the remote loosen until it clattered to the floor, his heart sinking so deep into his stomach as a cold chill ran down his spine. He a took step towards you. Then another. And another. Each one heavier than the last until finally, he was standing so close, his legs brushed against yours.
You didn't flinch. You didn't move away. But your expression looked so clouded, your smile wavering as you looked up at him with tears in your eyes. He reached forward to touch your cheek, feeling something solid, just... frozen.
You were freezing to the touch.
"What happened?" Your eyes fluttered shut, your hand coming up to hold his hand closer to yours, nuzzling your cheek into his palm.
"Something bad. I'm sorry, Xavier. I'm sorry." He dropped down to one knee, taking your face fully in his hands as he watched the tears that gathered finally fall.
"Tell me everything." You laughed weakly, peering at him through bleary eyes, your lips quivering as you tried to keep a brave face for him.
"I failed. I wasn't strong enough for the ambush sprung on me. I didn't have time to react and I didn't know my system's defenses had been breached. The remaining defectors caught me and though I tried to fight them off, eventually I was captured."
Xavier bit his tongue, the anger that ignited within him threatening to overtake him. He couldn't allow his emotions to get out of control right now. Right now, you needed him to stay calm. You needed him to be in the right state of mind.
"They threatened me, tortured me, tried to blackmail me and when I didn't budge, they were willing to use me as bait. The problem is, when you rile someone up enough, they make mistakes. They get so angry and so resentful, they lash out." You chuckled weakly, shaking your head lightly. "They didn't mean to kill me. But... I was hoping they would. It would ruin the mission if you had to deal with a hostage exchange."
Anger gave way to shock. Shock turned to disbelief. Disbelief turned to grief.
"You're dead?" And suddenly, everything clicked into place. Why you never moved from your spot on the couch. Why you never ate. Why you never drank. Why you wore the same clothes every single day.
He was right. He was wrong.
You didn't betray him. You never did.
Your loyalty got you killed.
Your trust and faith in him to find the solution he was so desperate for made you think your life wasn't worth saving.
You swore your allegiance to him. To the Queen. You never wavered.
And in the end, all you got in return was an early grave after dedicating your life to finding a solution and a way back home.
Guilt tore at him in a way he couldn't imagine, his chest feeling like it was caving in on itself as he struggled to maintain his composure. It didn't make sense though. Something still wasn't adding up.
"How are you... here?"
You laughed. You laughed, staring into a fit of giggles before bellowing out with laughter as the tears continued to fall. As you held his hands so tightly, trembling from all the emotions you were experiencing.
"Guess ghosts are real, huh? You know what they say, if you die with regrets, you can never really move on. Didn't think it'd apply to aliens like us, huh?"
It wasn't funny. It wasn't funny at all.
He spent these months with you in his home. He watched all sorts of dramas and movies with you. He learned everything he could about you, crossing that bridge and getting to know the person you were.
A hopeless romantic deep down inside. So much, you cried at even the most shallow of love stories because you were happy they were in love. But you cried the hardest when the second lead never got their chance to be with the person they loved. When they let them go... because their happiness meant more to them than their own heart.
"Even if the second lead would have given up their entire soul for the main lead, it takes a lot of whole lotta grit to let someone that means the whole world to you go. Their happiness is all that matters."
No. It couldn't mean...
"Jeremiah said he's sorry for calling you out... what did he mean by that?" Your lips brushed against his palm in a chaste kiss, your eyes slowly dragging from his lips up to his eyes to really look at him.
"He knew I was in love with you."
It never crossed his mind. It never was a thought he entertained when he was so devoted to his beloved. To the young woman he was so desperate to save.
He could argue that you never let it show. He could shift the blame that you didn't like being around people often that he never saw it. He could lie to himself all he wanted.
The truth was in the sweatshirt you wore. The day he gave it to you, you never looked so soft. Your smile was splitting your face, the giddiness rolling off you in waves as you put it on as quickly as you could. The only time you went out of your way to hug him, squeezing him tight as you thanked him for the gift.
It was just a sweatshirt. He got it because it suited you and he thought you would like it since you had been working so hard.
And now you were dead.
"I don't think I've ever seen you cry before, that's so alien. It's a little weird." Xavier couldn't help it. He couldn't help the anguish he was feeling, never knowing your true feelings. Even if he couldn't return them. Even if...
He pulled you tight into his arms, hugging you close and burying his face into your shoulder. His body wracked with sobs, the guilt of every decision he made and all the people he lost tearing right through his chest and carving a hole where his heart was.
You died and remained with regrets.
You haunted him because you wanted to remain close to him.
Even if all you did was spend time watching stupid shows and movies on his couch while he drifted in and out of sleep. That was enough for you. It wasn't fair to you. It wasn't fair at all.
Xavier cradled you in his arms, pulling you onto his lap as he sobbed into the very gift that meant so much to you.
"It's okay, you know? I don't blame you. It was just something that was bound to happen the longer we stayed here." You soothed his back softly, comforting him even in death. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way. Even if it wasn't something I couldn't control, I'm sort of glad it happened. It meant I could hang out with you like this."
He shook his head violently, his grip around you tightening so much that he would have left bruises if you were... alive. "You could have done that at any time! Not like this. Not when you're just a ghost in my apartment. Not when..." God his voice never sounded so broken before. "Not when you're dead. Not when your body is somewhere we don't know."
"Yeah, sorry. That was... insensitive of me." He couldn't let go.
He didn't want to let you go.
There was still so much he had to learn. So much he wanted to talk to you about. There was so much time you both were supposed to have. So much time wasted. So much time he could have taken to actually hang out with you. Suddenly, a hundred years felt so damn short. He took the long lifespans for granted and now it was all too late.
"Xavier." You did your best to peel yourself back so that you could look at him. His eyes were burning and his nose was blocked up, but he met your gaze head on. Your fingers brushed against his cheek, wiping the tears away.
He committed your face to his memory. The way your eyes softened when you looked at him with the most gentle smile on your face. The way you looked at him with such tenderness and love, he wished he could see it on you for real.
"I love you." You leaned in to kiss him, your lips soft against his as he gently kissed you back. It wasn't out of love, but he felt you deserved it. You did.
It was closure and you deserved it more than anyone.
He felt it before he saw it. Your form was dissipating right there in his arms, but he didn't pull away. He just clung to you tighter, kissing you harder to give you something before you completely disappeared.
"Thank you." Were the last words you said before you were gone.
He sat there on the floor, his arms empty and his apartment colder than ever. You were never coming back. He was never going to see you sitting on his couch and welcoming him back. He was never going to hear you laugh too hard at a comedy skit or ball your eyes out over some romantic drama.
He was never going to learn more about you. Never hear your voice again. Never see you again.
You were gone.
"Thank you for always being by my side."
a/n: could not put the post twist in the tags, sorry. if it bothers you, feel free to yell at me. and yes, I write this in one go because I have no self-restraint
Thinking about how you're overstimulated on Xavier's cock, tears streaming down your face as you sob over how hard he's fucking you. The lewd sounds of your pussy squelching around his cock coupled with the ragged breaths of his moans in your ear are driving you insane.
He's being so mean about it, too. He's fucking you without a pause in his pace, fast and deep that you feel so full and stretched out while he takes you over the edge.
You're crying so much, body trembling from the pleasure as you beg and plead with him to slow down a little. You tell him to stop, but he just doesn't seem to listen!
Instead, he's whispering in your ear about using your safe word. That's what it's there for, after all. Don't you remember insisting that he doesn't stop himself until you use it?
"You forgot that you threatened me last time if I stopped before using your safe word? That you could handle it, no matter what you said in the heat of the moment?"
But, you're so cockdrunk and overwhelmed, your voice isn't working very well and you just can't seem to anything out as he drags another orgasm out of you, your walls trying to milk him for all he's got as you scream his name.
"You look so spent. But, I can't stop myself. Mnm, use your safe word, please. Oh fuck, please. Please use it. I can't— mnmm — I can't stop myself. Want to keep fucking you. Want to fill you up more."
He looks wrecked, face flushed with a sheen of sweat coating over his body, pupils nearly consuming the blue of his glossy eyes.
"C'mon, Starlight. Use your safe word, please. Please, please, please, I can't stop my hips. Can't bring myself to pull out of you. If you forgot it, I'll remind you."
Even if he reminds you, whispering the word in your ear with a breathless whine, you can't really think straight enough to even silently mouth the word. He's even telling you that you had a little gesture to signal that he needed to stop, desperately pleading with you to use it if it was too much.
He didn't want to hurt you. He really didn't!
But, you didn't use it. You didn't even try. Instead, the moment he got enough willpower to slow himself down and tried to pull out just to give you a breather, you pulled him back in, legs locked tight around his waist and kept him in you.
Instead, you purred in his ear that he needed to stay right where he was. Even if you were sobbing from the overstimulation, feeling like the world was going to fade away into black, you didn't want him to stop.
"Selfish. You're so selfish, Starlight." He's blabbering into your neck, his cock twitching inside you as he redoubles his efforts to fuck you harder.
"Love it. Love you. Love you so much. Don't wanna be apart from you. Don't want to lose the connection."
And how could he deny you? Even if you're sobbing so much, he won't stop until you're both too spent to even move afterwards. He doesn't care anymore, because he loves you.
"I love you too. I won't try to do it again. I'll stay in you for as long as you want."
And he did. He did until you were both teetered on the edge of consciousness. Because he loved you and he'll do anything for you.
cw: smut | afab!reader | use your imagination cuz you a freak <3
Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who expected you to be upset that he was ending the relationship to focus on his work when MC became his patient, but was surprised that you were far more disappointed in not having the "nastiest sex you've ever had" anymore.
Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who knew you were a bit on the promiscuous side — the life of those in the medical field were always hectic and busy that pent up sexual desires run rampant among the doctors and nurses — but he didn't expect you to bounce back so quickly from the break-up.
Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who believes he's just trying to adjust back to his new normal after living in the more impulsive way you lived your life — night life, drinks, dancing and writing the outline of your thesis the next morning with smudged lipstick and more caffeine that teeters on the edge of stimulants — and has to avoid the impulses to brush his fingers against you when you pass by.
Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who throws himself into his work and hobbies, even going as far as to spend more time with MC because he thought his feelings for her were still romantic, but realizes that the way you burrowed in his life had him craving the way you just imposed on his personal space so easily.
Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who visits your office a few times a month and tries not to feel too embarrassed by the clear enjoyment you're getting whenever you see him lingering around, not at all pretending to believe the excuses he tries to give you, as you tease him mercilessly.
Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who lets you drag him for a night like old times, just as friends of course, and tries his best not to give into the temptations that you clearly were tormenting him with to pull you close and kiss you the way he was desperate for.
Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who loses a bit of his self-control when you both run into a tech nurse you had been intimate with — said nurse having the audacity to ask you to spend time with him after you were done with your hangout — by hooking his arm around your waist and pulling you close and saying you were spending the entire night with him.
Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who goes over to your place for a drink (non-alcoholic for him) and dances with you in the comfort of your living room, knowing that your penchant for flirtatious touches as you grind yourself against him was your signal that you wanted much more intimacy than just a dance.
Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who takes his time teasing you through the beat of the song, lips caressing your neck, hands sliding down your sides and dipping beneath your dress as you grind your ass against the growing problem in his pants.
Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who lets you take the lead, every kiss a searing and every careful roll of your hips that left him breathless, as you take things to the next level by insisting he let his inhibitions go for a night and offering him a drink.
Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who learns that alcohol affects him in ways he wasn't familiar with, because when you poured the wine in your mouth and made him drink, the effects of it was near instant because he was ravaging your mouth and teasing your pussy through your panties.
Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who struggles to take his time with you now that the alcohol is in his system, your dirty talk whispered in his ear doing him no favors with every article of clothing pushed up or to the side as he fingers you in the same rhythm that had you seeing stars so many times before, his mouth sucking and biting your collarbones and the tops of your breasts.
Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who can't wait any longer as he pushes you on your back, settling between your legs while you hurriedly take off his shirt as he works his pants down far enough to line his cock at your entrance, hesitating only for a moment to confirm you were not only on a safe day, you were also on birth control, before sheathing his cock inside you.
Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who fucks you with unrestrained ferocity, bouncing you up and down the sofa as you moan out the filthiest things that you want to do tonight — from using his Evol for temperature play, 69 oral, shower sex because it's him and more — that fuels him to angle your hips so get can hit it deeper with every thrust.
Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who has you in so many different positions in so many different areas of your apartment, he felt like he was claiming your home with his memory now that you wouldn't be able to walk around your place without thinking of him.
Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who damn near forgot how kinky you were, because now he was indulging in some of the things that you had claimed you missed doing with him and grateful that his sex drive could match yours.
Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who doesn't slip out while you both rest on your bed, spooned together with his arms secured around your torso and his face buried in your neck, you laughing breathlessly that if he missed the sex so bad he could've just said something.
Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who doesn't quite correct you but adds that he actually just missed you and he made a mistake when he ended things, knowing now that you bring a certain enjoyment in his life that wasn't just about fucking you silly.
Ex-boyfriend!Zayne who smiles when you offer to date him again if he promises to take care of your sexual needs since he seems awfully territorial over you, his arms tightening around you as he promises to make you happy.
cw: smut | afab!reader | poor attempt at writing a brat | definitely not proof-read (none of them are) | spanking
Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who convinces himself that he didn't feel a thing using you as a safe haven during the harsh months after the attempt on his life that changed his life for the worse, despite the way you shatter before him.
Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who tells himself that your passive aggressive comments while working beneath him doesn't affect him in the slightest, even if you barely glance at his direction and focus your attention on a lieutenant whenever he was around.
Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who knows that the furthest he's ever gone with you sexually was a heated make-out session and groping over clothes, but starts to feel something stirring within him when he sees you openly flirt with another man just to piss him off.
Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who thinks when MC reappears in his life, that he'd actually be able to breathe again for the first time, only to find himself tortured with thoughts about you and what you're doing with the guy that he saw stick his tongue down your throat.
Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who knows he's abusing his power to keep you under his supervision and away from that lieutenant that you seem to have a fondness for, but feels little remorse when he sees the way you focus your frustration to him by mouthing off to him and choosing to be a brat.
Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who can't help but compare how bratty MC can get versus how bratty you were being, when you have never shown that side of you before, and finding himself far more attracted to the idea of enabling your behavior just to punish you that much more.
Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who lets you neglect your work, sass him, flirt openly with others and even disobey direct orders, all with a charming smile that he knows makes you feel suspicious the longer he allows it.
Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who lets you get a little too comfortable in thinking you have the upper hand, letting you get bolder as you start to invade his personal space before he strikes, using his Evol to subdue you.
Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who mocks you as you try to argue with him that he should let you go, but when he mentions that you've been such a brat and need to be taught manners, he notices every little detail of the way your body reacts — flushed cheeks, breathless pants and shiver running throughout your body.
Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who tells you if you really want him to stop, he'd give you an out after you accept your punishment for all the bratty behavior you accumulated over the past few weeks, your body bent over his desk as he slowly palms your ass cheek through your uniform pants.
Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who smiles when you accept, pants and panties pooled around your ankles as he begins to spank you, demanding you to count every strike — correcting your behavior one grievance at a time.
Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who can't help but get aroused at the way you stutter and whine, cheeks hot, arms pinned to the table by his gravity, as you squirm from the loud, wet slaps of his hand connecting to your flesh and making the sting linger on your skin.
Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who watches you cum from getting spanked, drool on the table, tears in your eyes, as your slick coats your inner thighs so beautifully, he nearly folds just to have a taste of you instead of making you realize that your brattiness will always have consequences to the Colonel.
Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who has you on your knees, eyes gleaming up at him in obedience when he asks you if you think you deserve to have his cock after you disobediently came from his punishments, making you pleasure him to earn the right to cum from his dick.
Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who never had a single shred of experience with sex, save the occasional masturbation sessions that he swore was only for MC, try his damndest to not immediately shoot his load when you put your mouth on him, tongue swirling the tip with an expertise that made his jealousy burn a little while your hands stroked his shaft.
Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who avoids making a fool out of himself by teasing you and delaying his orgasm by pulling back your hair, tracing his cock on your lips and breathlessly mocking you looking so needy — ignoring the way your eyes seem to see right through him when you see how hard his cock is twitching.
Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who loses either way when you start regaining some of your bratty attitude and shoves his cock in your mouth, slowly fucking it with a shudder down his spine, your hot tongue drags along the underside of his shaft.
Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who fails miserably at avoiding the orgasm that he was trying to keep at bay, his inexperience and lack of foresight not preparing him from the way your mouth could feel sucking on the sensitive flesh as he shoots his load into the back of your throat.
Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who may have gotten just a little petty and uses his Evol to place you back on the table, locking you in place under the claim that you were misbehaving, so you lost the right to feel his cock stretch you out and now has to settle with him fucking your slick thighs instead.
Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who loses himself fucking your thighs, the warmth of your cunt on the top of his cock, your ass clapping with his thrusts and the way you're whining out beautifully for him drives him absolutely wild.
Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who can get addicted to this, fully understanding now why some of the guys during his days in the DAA were always talking about needing some companionship, because the way he was feeling just feeling your pussy against him was enough to get him hooked.
Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who cums between your thighs, his body hovering over yours while he tells you that if you choose to behave, he may show a little mercy next time and fuck you the way you want to be fucked.
Ex-boyfriend!Caleb who lets you rest in his office, since poor you can't even think about sitting on a chair without feeling pain, as he returns to work, already planning out his next moves when you inevitably return to being a brat.
non-mc x Rafayel | hot spring event banner story [not the card] | hurt/comfort
"She's the only one that ever understood the real me."
Funny how that's the first thing that springs to your mind as your boyfriend tells you that he's having issues with his vision. Like a sudden knife between your ribs as you try not to let your face show how shocked and hurt you're feeling. It's not about you. It's not important. It was something he told you when you were friends and he had been hung up on a woman that he was desperately in love with. You hadn't even developed feelings for him then.
But it haunts you.
He didn't tell you.
You only realized it when he was struggling to distinguish between the animal figurines on the shelf, his hands guiding him through every bump and ridge as he pretended he was fully aware of the world around him. You only noticed when you picked one up and said the wrong name on accident, him nodding along enthusiastically before you caught your slip.
It wasn't the first time he had issues with his sight. He'd told you about it in the past, when he was still hung up on the only tether that kept his depression from fully consuming him.
"It isn't all bad. You look gorgeous in this lighting."
You swallowed your feelings down and simply helped him through the moments where the blinding light made it harder for him. You took his hand and guided him carefully through the streets as you took in the views. You hand fed him mostly out of love but partly to keep your own bitter feelings at bay, finding some comfort in the way he soaked up your attention like he couldn't live without it.
You hated the feelings of helplessness. You hated thinking about what she could do if she was there. If she really knew him better than anyone else, would he have been better off? It wasn't just frustrating that you were thinking this way, it was downright disgusting that you were standing in the way of your own happiness over the past version of him that poured his yearning into the pieces he painted with her in mind.
"I know you're worried about me, but I promise you that I'm alright. It's not a big deal and the resort manager said it's just a side effect from the hot springs. It'll go away soon." Even if that was the case, it didn't really ease up the feelings festering in the back of your mind.
But the way he smiled at you, leaning into you and whispering his adoration into your skin as he pulled you close to him was enough to try and focus on the rest of the trip. The warmth of his hands and rhythmic thudding of his heart against your ear was enough to soothe your feelings. He was here with you to have a nice vacation and get some pigments.
The rest can be dealt with later.
But when later eventually came in the form of a painting, you couldn't take the time to truly admire the beauty.
You stood before a portrait of yourself bathed in an array of golden hues, the feelings of inadequacy reared its ugly head once more. Memories of watching him pace around the classroom to talk about her as you stayed late to work on some sketches he assigned the class to do. The times he let his jealousy show itself to you as he complained over lunch that she was getting closer to some guy he didn't really know the name of.
"You don't understand. He's so possessive over her and he's completely restrictive."
"And this is her adopted brother or is this the guy that works with her at the Association? And, by the way, saying he's possessive seems a tad ironic considering you're her stalker."
"First thing we're getting out of the way is that I am not her 'stalker'. I just so happen to know things because I pay attention to the world around me. I'm an artist after all, I pick up on the small details no one else pays attention to. Stop snickering, it's really rude. Secondly, it's that pathetic mess of a guy that refuses to wear grown up clothes."
"Right, right. Whatever you say, Professor Rafayel."
"Ugh, I know you're my student but that's just rude to call me that outside of school. Besides, if I'm being honest, I just think she'd be better off with me. I'm clearly the better option. We're destined to be together."
And you believed it at the time. You honestly thought he was able to really let his feelings reach her and touch the part of her heart that could return his devotion and love.
But you remember so clearly how he called you in the dead of night, partially drunk on whatever liquor he was drinking, voice hoarse and devoid of his usual charm.
"I had to let her go." Were the first words out of his mouth when you answered.
You didn't really know what to say at the time, uncertain how to comfort someone who was hurting in a way you didn't understand at the time. So you said the only thing that made sense at the time. "Where are you?"
And after a lengthy taxi ride to a rest area for campers, you found him parked near a cliff side that had a beautiful view of the ocean. He was resting on the hood of his car, arm slung over his eyes and looking more disheveled than you had ever seen him when you approached him.
"What do you need?" You leaned over the hood next to him, looking out at the ocean as he sniffled a few times.
"A friend." You stayed with him the entire night. You endured the chill of the night air biting at your cheeks and freezing your fingers. You listened to the restraint of his sorrow and committed it to memory. You didn't look at his pain. You didn't comment on his despair. You didn't judge his way of coping through his broken heart.
When the sun's rays finally began to pierce through the night sky and he began to move beside you did you finally look at him. You noticed his puffy eyes. You noticed the way his lower lip quivered ever so slightly. You saw the despair in his eyes as he looked at you with such vulnerability, your first instinct was to cup his face in your hand and gently pull him into a warm embrace.
"It'll be alright. I'll stay with you until you're okay."
You meant it that day. You stayed by his side. You stayed until you fell in love with him. When he returned your love, you had been over the moon. You believed him. You really did.
But now? After that trip? After staring at the portrait of his love and devotion right in front of your face did you start to feel the anxiety of not being the one he wanted. For the first time, you actually began to doubt if he loved you because he truly felt love for you or if you had simply been the logical choice.
You had seen him at his most vulnerable state and yet he still hid a part of himself from you. He hid parts of his life from you when he went off on little excursions that he didn't need you to tag along with. He hid something from you when he isolated himself for a night or two every year, telling you not to worry despite how uncomfortable he sounded over the phone.
Did you understand him? Did you ever see the real him?
You wanted to smile. You were desperate to put on a brave face and smile so big and wide that it'd hurt your cheeks. You wanted to say how sweet and touching it was that he painted you. You wanted to cup his face and squish it and kiss it and just... You didn't want to cry.
You didn't.
But you couldn't help it as the tears spilled out before you could stop yourself. You choked out a sob, your hand covering your mouth to try and stifle the rest as the anxiety you weren't aware of suddenly burst forth. You were hurting over something you didn't even consider before.
"Hey, baby, what's wrong? Are you okay?" The world was spinning around you as you sobbed, unable to get the words out as you cried, your hands clutching his shirt so tight that it might just tear. All you could think about was every confession he shared with you about her. All you could think about was the late night messages about how he needed a distraction because he was going crazy thinking about her.
All you could think about was the night on the hood of his car, listening to him break beside you because he was willing to let her go to someone else.
None of the good memories could overpower the anxiety of being the second option. Not the way he reached for your hand to calm his nerves at events. Not the way he pulled you closer to him when someone tried to hit on you. Not the way he looked at you with pure devotion in his eyes, like you were the only person in this world that ever truly mattered.
You sobbed into his chest, his arms tight around you as he whispered something into your hair. He held you there, comforting you until you could finally settle down long enough to hear what he was saying over the sniffles and the fierce beating of his heart beneath your ear.
"I love you. I love you so much. Please... I love you. Don't leave me. Don't leave. I won't survive without you, my muse. My love. My life."
You shut your eyes, clinging to him tightly and found comfort in his warmth. "I'm not leaving. 'm sorry I made you worry."
"Worried would be an understatement." He laughed hoarsely, clinging to you tighter somehow. "I've never seen you cry like that so every bad thought went through my mind."
You nuzzled into his chest, chuckling weakly. "Every bad feeling I never knew I had went through mine. That's why I cried."
"Well, guess we'll stay like this until we're both okay."
"Heh, that might take all night."
"Might as well get comfortable right here on the floor then. Because I'm not going anywhere."
You had time to talk through your feelings another time. You had time to really get into the crux of your own anxiety and self-doubt. So long as he was here, holding you in his arms, it could wait until you were both okay.
Can't bring myself to write things. But I did have a few ideas running around in my head. Though they're mostly my OC's in mind, they can be adjusted for some Nondescript MC/Non-MC's.
One that has been in my head was a Non-MC styled fake marriage!au with Caleb. (AFAB!reader btw sorry)
edit: Oh jeez I wrote a lot. MY BAD.
Starts off with non!mc's/your pov where you first meet Caleb. You weren't in the best situation, your parents unfortunately passed away in a car crash and you were living with your uncle for a while. It was all fine, but unfortunately he got into drinking, drugs and gambling that made living with him difficult.
He never hurt you or let harm come to you physically, he was still someone that loved you dearly, but he was pretty messed up and when he couldn't afford to keep you in school, you just stopped going. When his "friends" were over, you had to pretend to be a boy so that they wouldn't leer at you or make you feel more uncomfortable than you already were.
In order to help with making money, you took on odd jobs here and there before settling with making stuffed animals and dolls up until you were old enough to get a more secure job working at convenience store an hour away.
Your uncle gets in a particularly bad mood and sensing he was going to start getting upset over any little thing and start ranting and shouting, you leave and head to work far earlier than you needed to.
You're waiting for the store to open up, hungry and exhausted and that's when you meet Caleb. You can't help but see past the mask he wears, sensing something behind the smile he offers to you as he asks if you're alright. You notice the bags beneath his eyes, seeing more of an exhausted shell rather than the normal man he was trying to be.
But you don't say anything, you don't comment on it. You simply tell him you're just waiting for the store to open so you can start your job. He asks when it starts and you hesitate, admitting that it won't be for another couple hours. In the middle of that, your stomach rumbles, flustered with how loud it is.
He offers to feed you and you accept after some thought. At worst, you pay for yourself so you already plan on eating light and at best, you get to at least have some company when you eat.
He takes you somewhere cheap but very familiar, something that puts you at ease. He's already pulling out his card, telling you that if you had any doubts, he was willing to pay all of it before the order is even made. It's a nice gesture and so you indulge a bit.
You sit, strike up a conversation with him as you both wait for the food to arrive. It's light at first, simple things like the weather and the ambience of the restaurant, until the food arrives and you eat like you haven't had a good meal in a long time (which you haven't).
He notices, taking in your appearance and the way you carry yourself. That's when he starts to probe a little into your life, you offer answers casually because you don't really think you'd ever see him. You tell him between bites about how you've lived up until now. Your teenage years were the hardest to survive since your parents died when you were still a child. Your uncle was fine until you were about thirteen, but the lifestyle that he was living made it difficult for you.
And now you're uneducated and working just to survive and maybe help pay off some of his debts. He never asked you to, but it was something you wanted to do since you didn't really think about yourself that often. You were alive, maybe that's all you really needed to be.
Caleb doesn't really say anything after that, but after you both finish your meal, he offers something that leaves you speechless. He offers to marry you, allowing you to move out of that space and somewhere better. Even if you're fine with the way things are, he feels it'd be far better than surviving. That you'd get a chance to live and on the off chance your uncle dies, the debt collectors won't be able to come after you.
You didn't consider his lifestyle that disturbed until you realize how naive you were. Just because your uncle protected you didn't mean you were safe. Why else pretend to be a boy in the first place, right? If they found out you were a girl, they'd do something worse to you and maybe even him?
But you don't really understand why Caleb would suggest something like that. And when you ask, he only smiles. You don't really need to know the reason; he's a broken man underneath after all. No one sane enough would offer marriage to someone they just met.
And no one sane enough would accept.
You get married to him. On paper, you both are wed and the only kiss you share is in front of a judge. Your uncle is a witness and Caleb even got some random person to pretend they were related.
It's weird, but on paper you're married. You move in with him to Skyhaven. Room and board, with all the food you could ask for. You don't consummate the marriage, he never touches you like that. You both have separate bedrooms and he pays for everything you want or need.
Overtime he teaches you all the things you missed in high school. He helps you get an education and teaches you how to cook. He offers everything you could ask for, but you never step over the line, feeling like you owe him far too much for everything he's done for you.
Overtime you start learning more about the kind of person he is and the burdens he carries. You learn about a love he clings onto that fuels his desires to be better. You learn about his past and the things he's been through and the things he's done.
Overtime, without meaning to, you fall in love with everything that he is. And you selfishly hope you can keep living the little fantasy of marriage, even if you never get more than what you have.
In this AU, MC takes a couple years to accidentally find Caleb. So, this fake marriage has lasted at most 2 years, pushing 3.
When MC returns to his life, his first love, you realize that fantasy can never really last. You know how much he loves her. You know that he calls out her name when he's stuck in his nightmares. You never hated the pendant he keeps for her, the one that guides him back home. You know the meaning of keeping something that means to you so close to your heart, only offering your own wish for his safe return by adding a golden apple to go alongside it.
You never pushed him to put it there, even offering that he could just keep it in his pocket instead or have it somewhere else, but he did.
You notice he spends more time working. Late nights and early mornings. He withdraws a bit more and he's quicker to look at his phone when a notification pops up. You don't question it, it wasn't like you were in a real relationship with him, but you also can't help but feel a bit melancholic when you know that it's because of her.
He never tells you it's her, but you learned about him enough to just know.
You overhear a conversation he's having with her one night in his office, about making plans to take her to the amusement park and that he was getting a day off work to take her.
It pains you, but you try not to let it consume you. You accepted that your love was one-sided and this marriage was never meant to last. It wasn't even real to begin with, the ring on your finger is worth less than a lavish meal at a restaurant. A choice you insisted on, considering the circumstances.
You accidentally bump your head against the wall when you try to sneak away and when he catches you, you lie that your stomach was hurting. He doesn't ask if you overheard him and you don't mention it either.
The following day, when he tells you he has work, you let him leave and wait a while before following him out. You want to see with your own eyes who she is and how he is around her. Not out of spite, but to see with your very own eyes that you should stop this little fiasco and move forward.
And when you do, when you see a smile you never saw on him before and hear a laugh you never heard, you understand. You see what could be and what you're in the way of.
It breaks your heart, but you needed to see that he was never going to be yours. And that's okay.
You make it home before he does and notice you have several missed messages and calls from Caleb. He was simply asking for updates on how you were feeling, with voicemails reminding you about staying hydrated and eating light food if your stomach was hurting that much. It's sweet and you wish you didn't love him as much as you did.
You allow yourself to cry. To grieve. To accept that his happiness is far more important and perhaps the only way you can repay him for everything he's done for you.
The next morning, before he leaves for work, you ask him if you can talk. He's in a rush, but he stalls a bit when notices the tone in your voice. You can't bring yourself to tell him anything, but you do resolve yourself that you'll tell him when he has time.
A few days pass when he finally has time and you tell him that you were planning on finding work. He questions you and your sudden motivation to find work but you carefully answer them that you were noticing he was simply working more and although you were content, you felt like maybe it was time for a change of pace. You wanted to socialize more and feel a bit more independent.
You see him hesitate, but ultimately he accepts the answer and even offers to help you find work. You tell him you need to do it on your own. You have to, or else you won't feel like you've done it at all. Even if the real reason was that you were already planning to learn to do things without him in your life anymore.
And so you do. You learn how to live without him in your life. You don't ask for his help. You get an entry level job that you can take a transport service for. You learn to live as if he wasn't in your life.
You also are trying to make enough money to move out. That you know you can't stay in his home anymore. A home that never truly was yours to begin with.
You start looking for places on the sly, trying to find somewhere cheap enough to move to that was at least a decent commute. You don't find anything yet, but as you're looking, he comes home and you try to hide what you've been searching for.
He notices and asks you what you were doing and so you lie. You tell him that you were looking for some story you read but can't remember the name of. He's unconvinced, so he prods you a bit and asks if you remember anything of it.
So you tell him it was a period drama. A lovely courtesan who lost her beloved in a war and lonely duke that offers to buy out her contract. He offers her a place to stay and provides for her without ever asking anything from her. He knows he's falling in love with her and a part of him hates that she can't let go of the one she lost. But, he never pushes his love onto her, never pressures her to love him back. He already knows he can't compete with a heart that already belongs to another. He can only offer comfort so that the burden of loss doesn't consume her.
But one day, her beloved returns to her. After years of living with the Duke, she can't help but feel relief seeing him again. And the Duke lets her go, even if it hurts him. Even if it breaks his heart, he wants nothing more than for her chance to truly be happy. Because to him, love is letting go.
Caleb stays quiet for a while, your own feelings bleeding into the story more than they should have as you look into his eyes. He says that if the Duke tried to tell her his feelings, perhaps he might have gotten a different outcome.
You say that the Duke might have been afraid. That even if he loved her as much as he did, he might not have survived to hear the rejection out right.
Caleb says that he might not have been rejected. And if he was, at the very least he could say that he tried. That she might have learned that she fell in love with him if he simply confessed.
You smile, staring deep into his eyes as he watches you. You tell him that when the Duke sees how truly happy she is, confessing would only ruin it.
You both stare at each other for a while before his phone goes off and he breaks off the connection, saying he has to go back to work. He hopes you find your story before he leaves and you just sit there, trying not to let his words get to you.
You don't let yourself hope. You know what position you were in and you accept it by trying to live without him.
And you can't help but notice that he's noticing it. The day you bought a step stool so that you could reach for the stuff on the higher cabinets is the day he freezes when he sees it. You see the way his back straightens and his shoulder quakes ever so slightly. You hear the tightness in his voice as he tries to nonchalantly ask you why you bought it if he was there, but you tell him that when he's on long missions, it would be silly to ask him to take down some of the appliances you wanted to use.
You never see his face when he asks about it, but you can't help but wonder why it bothered him so much. Why your answer made his voice shake when he responded with a "that makes sense".
He asks about work over dinner. He asks how you're doing. He asks and pries a little into the life you are living without him in it and you answer honestly that it's fun. That you are happy. But you don't tell him that you don't really speak about him. That you don't involve yourself when your coworkers speak about their spouses and wish you had stories you could share.
You don't tell him that they know you're married, but that you don't talk about it. That they ask if you have any pictures and you answer that you don't really take them. That they gossip if you're actually married behind your back.
You don't tell him that it's better for you to pretend he's not really in your life when you're at work than feel the longing of what could be and what isn't.
You know he spends more time with her than you. You know that they're meant to be and you hope that you can make enough to move out and finally divorce him so that he could be happy.
But you can't understand why he hasn't mentioned anything about divorcing. You wonder if it's guilt. You wonder if it's shame that holds him back?
But you don't ask. You never ask. If it means you can linger in his life just a little longer, then you don't bring it up.
You spend time with him one weekend. It's just the two of you and you're doing domestic things. Shopping for groceries or eating at the few restaurants that Skyhaven has. You enjoy your time with him as you settle on the couch and watch some drama that looked mildly interesting.
His phone goes off and you watch him frown before telling you that he'll be a few hours but he'll return. You don't question him but just before he's out the door, he turns to you and tells you to wait up for him. He will be back.
And you do. But he never comes back and you're not feeling well. You realize that you might have been sick without realizing it, confusing the symptoms with allergies or potentially something questionable you ate. Perhaps a few things that didn't mix well.
You're puking in the toilet, feeling like death. You can't even get up and so you pull the towels together to make a make-shift bed because getting up seems impossible. And still he doesn't return.
By early morning, you're well enough to get up but barely. You're hobbling around and finding your phone to call emergency services. You're taken to the hospital to get treated for food poisoning. Whatever you ate just didn't really agree with you at all and you're relieved.
Caleb was called and he rushed to your side, wearing last night's clothes, looking disheveled and worn out, but impossibly worried. You don't question why he was gone for so long. You don't question the perfume on his clothes nor stains on his shirt from runny mascara. You're just surprised he was there, apologizing for not coming back sooner and frustrated that you didn't call.
You don't say much, just sheepishly tell him that you're fine. And it almost looks like he wants you to say more. To question him. To make him tell you where he was and be angry. But you don't. You just hold his hand and rest in the hospital bed before they release you.
He doesn't leave your side when he takes you home. He carries you inside and makes you comfortable on the couch. He fusses over you, spoon feeding you and provides care. You think it's too much, but when you open your mouth to tell him that, he shoots you a look that stops your voice.
He doesn't say anything about the towels in the bathroom. He doesn't say anything about how you didn't message or call him. He simply stays with you and for the first time in years, you sleep in his embrace as he holds you close.
After several days, you're all better and getting ready for work, he asks you why you didn't call. You tell him that you just thought he was really busy since he said he was returning but didn't. That whatever he was dealing with was important.
He whispers so softly that you almost miss it, but he says "it wasn't" and like before, you pretend you didn't hear it. You don't question it and you simply continue to get ready for work.
Time passes and you're sure you have enough money to move out. There's a place that isn't the greatest, older and worn with most of the modern luxuries you've grown accustomed to non-existent, but it's close enough to a place you can transfer to.
You were close enough to leaving the fantasy behind.
You were about ready to say goodbye.
A little party for the new year arrives and you tell him that you'll be staying late for it. He asks if you're not spending the new year with him and you tell him that you are, but the party was early because they were taking a week off to celebrate.
Caleb asks if you're allowed guests and you hesitate. You tell him you can bring someone, but you thought he was going to be busy with work so you didn't ask.
The hurt in his eyes makes you ask if he'd like to go with you. That if he really isn't busy, you'd like for him to go with you. It'd be a chance to see all your coworkers and see your place of work.
On the day of, you're trying not to feel too guilty when all your coworkers fawn over him and ask him a bunch of questions. Questions that were a bit too revealing on how you "lived your life" at work.
He doesn't really question you, but you can see the way his jaw is set as he answers them. You can see the pain and disappointment he's hiding when they say they weren't even convinced you were married.
As you both dance, his grip is firm but not painful as he looks down at you. You avoid his gaze, continuing to dance with him for a few more songs before you finally hear him ask why you never mentioned him.
You tell him that you did, but he scoffs and says that the most you've ever said was that you were married. You wince but ask him if he told anyone at the Fleet about you and he stops dancing. You peek up at him, seeing how clouded his eyes were, how somber his expression turns.
He admits he hadn't really and you nod your head.
You don't call him out on it. You don't hold it over his head. You don't defend yourself.
You just let it be.
You both go home and sit in the silence of a fake marriage.
You celebrate the new year together when it arrives and shortly after, he's off on a two week long mission for the Fleet.
You take the chance to pack your things, setting up your transfer to the other place and begin to move.
You leave the divorce papers on his desk, along with the ring and a note explaining everything and wishing him the best life.
You leave your phone behind and with one final look, you leave his place.
It was your final goodbye to him.
Now, his POV. [gonna pretend he has the necklace and that MC didn't]
For Caleb, it was hell. Having lost everything he held dear, the only tether to his life was the necklace MC gave him. He was grateful that he kept her from dying in that explosion, but it was still hell living his life without her.
It was the only way to protect her and help her escape EVER. But he was miserable. Completely. Utterly.
He had a terrible nightmare that consumed his very mind, he didn't sleep. He couldn't. Not when it was so vivid in his mind. So on a mission, he was tired, but still trying to survive.
It was early morning, his small attempts of sleep barely covering the insomnia that weighed on his bones. He goes for walk to get some fresh air and clear his mind and that's when he sees you.
For a brief moment, he almost mistakes you as MC before realizing that you were not her. You didn't really look like her at all, but the way you looked so tired and exhausted made him feel like he wanted to reach out to you like all the times he used to do for her.
So he reaches out. He talks to you and sees someone similar to him. Someone that is just surviving with the hand they've been dealt with. And he offers to buy you something to eat when he hears how hungry you sound.
Maybe it's just the protective instinct he grew up with, but he wants to ease your burden, even just a little, by offering you a meal. He knows you're wary of him but he's already paying for it so that you don't think he'll stiff you.
He keeps the conversation light, but he can't help but notice the details of someone that is struggling with their life. He can see the way the light doesn't really quite hit your eyes as you smile like someone that forgot how to.
And when you eat, he feels the pain in his chest. He sees just how much you've been without. Maybe it's the lack of sleep. Maybe it's because he sees how much you're suffering and hiding it away like he is. Maybe because you remind him of MC in a way.
He asks about your life and feels a sick sense of dread as you explain your situation. Even if nothing has happened to you now, it doesn't mean that nothing ever will. That something won't go wrong and you'll be left to fend for yourself.
So he offers to marry you. To help you in your situation.
He knows it's completely irrational and insane, but right now he's not quite all there. In fact, he probably never was.
But you accept it.
You both weren't all there in the head.
On the day you got married, you had insisted on a prenup. He told you he didn't need one, but you insisted it was to protect him. You were willing to marry him and accept his help, but you wanted to make sure he was also secured. You were the one that got the most out of the deal anyway.
The kiss, the only kiss he ever shared with you, left an impression on him. He almost wanted to do it again.
He doesn't touch you intimately. He doesn't want to make you uncomfortable and even more so, he doesn't quite know how to avoid feeling guilty.
He provides everything for you. He does it to make your life a little easier. He wants you to feel like you deserve this chance to be happy, even though you try your best not to disturb his space so much.
He teaches you all the things he can. He studies with you and helps you get something so that you don't feel like you've fallen so far behind.
Caleb knows he's using you to fill the void in his heart. He knows he's trying to replace the loss. But he also can't help but enjoy your presence in his life.
Overtime he learns more about you. He learns your likes and dislikes, learns more about the way you are with your responses. He sees the similarities you share with MC but also the differences that make you your own person.
Overtime he learns to confide in you. Learns to show you more of himself that he hides. He realizes that you're a comfort that wouldn't judge him for the way he is. You don't even flinch when he tells you about MC.
And a small part of him wishes you did.
When you offered him the golden apple charm, just your way of wishing him a safe return as well, he hesitated only when you told him he didn't have to wear it. That it could just be somewhere. You were far too considerate, he thought. He put it on the necklace because he wanted to keep you close to his heart.
He finds himself looking at it more than the one MC gave him before he leaves.
[time skip part]
When MC returns back into his life, Caleb doesn't even know how to feel. He's elated, sure, and he's so damn happy that she's back. He feels the love he felt before resurfacing as he embraces her. He's so damn happy.
But when she confesses how much she missed him and that she loves him, his heart... stops.
When she leans in to kiss him, he dodges it and pushes her back. He doesn't really know why. It was everything he ever wanted and yet as he looks into her eyes, he can't help but think of you.
But he doesn't even if it's love he feels or just... responsibility. He took you in and helped you. He's married to you. He can't just... kiss another woman. That wouldn't be right. That's all it is, isn't it?
He explains to MC that he's married. He doesn't quite know how to react to the pain her eyes so he blurts out that it's a fake marriage. He confesses that he only married you to help you out of your situation.
But then he lies. He lies on your family's name that they set rules in place because it was so sudden and they didn't believe you two were really in love. He lies that they were the reason he couldn't kiss her. That he can't be with her the way they want.
She starts to get angry and he swears that it's only temporary. That you were not to blame, it was just the circumstances that made it difficult for the both of you.
He makes the mistake of giving MC false hope. But is it really false if he loves her? Right? It's not... the marriage isn't real.
Even if he wears the ring, even beneath the gloves. Even if he sees you wear it, despite telling you you didn't have to when you were at home.
Even if he thought about gifting you something far better than that cheap one he let you talk him into getting.
But it's all about just being responsible, right?
He doesn't talk to you about it. He's feeling so guilty about explaining her back in his life. He feels ashamed that he lies to you about working late when really, he's with MC. He doesn't know what he's chasing by being with her, but he just feels like he's supposed to be with her.
It's what he's wanted for so long.
And you weren't actually in a relationship, so it wasn't cheating.
Caleb doesn't know why the thought makes his chest hurt so much.
He knows you suspect something, but the one thing he can say he doesn't like about you is that you never call him out on it. You don't speak up. You don't say anything, you just pretend not to notice. You let him keep his secrets.
Almost like you don't actually care.
And it hurts.
When he's making plans with MC to take her to the amusement park, he hears you. He tells her he'll call her back and goes out to check on you. You make an excuse and once again, you do not call him out on it. You don't make it known that you overheard him and he almost wants you to. He needs you to. But you don't.
Even when he leaves, you just wish him a good day and see him off. Even as he spends time with MC at the amusement park and it's fun, really, he can't help but wonder how you're doing. He messages you but you don't answer. He calls but you don't pick up. He checks your phone's location and it's still at home. You just weren't answering.
It worries him but he knows you're probably just tired. But he swears that he thinks he sees someone that looks like you at the amusement park.
He gets home and doesn't hear you cry, but when he checks on you in your bedroom, he wonders quietly about the tear stains on your face.
He wonders what you want to talk to him about the next day, his mind consumed with all the possibilities of what you want to talk about.
But work gets hectic and he's trying to stop MC from making a fuss at the Fleet. He feels guilty that he's making you wait so long to tell him something, but he feels a sense of relief that he can put it off if it's something bad.
When he finally gets a breather and you tell him about getting a job, his heart drops. So many questions. So many accusations sit on his tongue. He feels a sense of dread washing over him but he holds himself steady. Your answers are hard to poke holes in and he doesn't really try to. It sounded like you really wanted to have more independence and he can't help but feel like he's losing something he never wanted to lose.
Any offer he throws your way gets rejected. You make your resume. You find your job. You don't even ask him to take you to work or to pick you up. Not that he could, with how early he leaves and how late he arrives, but you don't even consider it.
You don't even ask him for help in the kitchen anymore. To do laundry. To help you tidy up.
And it's hurting him. It's hurting him in a way he can't fathom. He feels like it's his responsibility as your husband to be there for you and yet you're not letting him fulfill it. You're not letting him in anymore. You're pushing him out...
And he hates it.
So he tries to be there for MC. He tries to fall into place with the role he used to be in. He tries to be there for her in the way she wishes for him to be but he refuses to do more. He holds her but that's as far as it ever goes. He knows she wants to kiss him but he doesn't want to.
He doesn't know why.
He catches you being shifty when he comes home, your laptop as you try to appear casual. When he asks you why, you tell him something about the story you apparently were trying to find.
But the more he hears you explain it, he can't help but feel how similar their situation was. How this Duke was you and he was the Courtesan. Even if the roles were reversed in the technical details.
So he asks why the Duke wouldn't try to confess. He wonders if maybe you confessed... if you had feelings for him, it would make his own feelings easier to come to terms with.
But the Duke never does. And neither do you.
The courtesan never learns if her previous love was the one she truly wanted or was she simply chasing a memory that was long gone.
MC calls and he walks away.
Caleb is stuck with a choice he doesn't know where to lean to. But he can see that you're not allowing him into your life like he used to. He sees how much you're doing things on your own and you don't look at him when you want or need something.
He feels you pulling away and he can't bring himself to reach out to you anymore. He doesn't even know if it's all in his head or if you're really trying to move on.
And yet, when he gets home, a little earlier than normal since MC isn't trying to drag him around somewhere, his heart shatters at what he sees in the kitchen.
To anyone else, they'd see a step stool. To anyone else, it was just a little thing to help you reach slightly higher than normal. Anyone could have one.
But all the years he's known you, been with you and heard you ask him to reach for something without hesitation, you never thought about getting one. Until today.
Until you were starting to pull away.
He isn't even sure he's breathing right now, his heart rate spiking as the blood rushes to his ears. It's so offensive right now, he wants to break it. He wants to throw it out the window. He wants to turn around and demand why you need it so badly.
He wants to collapse at your feet and ask the question he so badly wants to avoid. But he doesn't. He tries to talk calmly, tries to swallow the lump in his throat as to why you got it.
And god help him, you answer in a way he can't even refute. So he accepts it, cursing himself for the way his voice betrays him. His eyes sting but he doesn't let you see. He just pushes it away with his foot and begins cooking, needing the distraction.
He pries into your work life, wondering if you were at least doing well. He tries to learn more in the answers you give him, to see if he's on your mind at the very least while you're there. You message him sparingly, but then again, you never bombarded him in the past either.
You don't really give anything away and he can't find anything to comment on. He also doesn't have the right to. Not when he is living a lie with MC.
Not when he's lying to her to begin with.
He finally gets a breather after grueling work hours and dealing with his strange situation with MC. He gets to spend time with you. He finally gets to cling to the small moments he gets to share with you as you spend the day together.
It feels nice and comforting, but he almost wonders what it'd be like to hold your hand. You've held it before, but the intimacy of the way you took his mechanical hand in yours the first day you saw it made him wish he could feel the warmth.
He couldn't feel a damn thing when you examined his arm. Couldn't feel the way your fingertips brushed against the metal and wires. Couldn't feel the way you interlaced your fingers with his.
He never touched you, never had an intimate moment with anyone really, but that day he felt something sinful in his chest. He felt embarrassed and shy when you looked at him as you held it.
He feels his hand twitching, wanting to reach over to you now that you both were sitting so close yet so damn far. He inched his hand closer, feeling the light brush of your pinky before his phone went off.
Caleb wished it didn't. It was MC. She wanted him for something and he couldn't quite say no. So he left, but he promised you that he'd be back. That he wasn't going to let this be something that was going to keep him from you.
How wrong he was. MC was in a pickle with some wanderers and he aided her the best he could. It was easy clean up, really, but it was what came after that made it hard.
She was emotional, wishing he was able to be with her. How hard it's been on her and she wished he could just divorce you so they could be together.
And for some reason, that word was the one thing that broke him.
He was cruel to lead her on. He was cruel to let MC think that she had a chance. He wasn't sure if he loved you fully, but he wanted to try.
So he confessed his sins. He finally told her everything and how he felt. It was hell and it was long. She was in denial at first and then she was angry. She pounded his chest and called him a liar. She told him that he was awful for making her believe there was a chance.
And he stayed with her. It was the least he could do as she cried all the pain and sorrow he caused her.
He tries to text you an apology, but he wonders if you'll even see it.
By morning, he's exhausted and so is MC. She's finally asleep and he leaves quietly. He barely makes his way to Skyhaven when his phone goes off. It's a number he doesn't quite recognize, but when he answers, it's someone else on the line asking for him. He's your emergency contact and they were wondering if he could make it.
He's terrified at what could have happened, rushing to the hospital in Skyhaven. His mind races with all the possibilities of what could happen, but the nurses tell him that you were just really sick from something you might have eaten.
And there you are, tired but seemingly doing well. He's by your side, apologizing for not being there. He's angry that you didn't call him when you first started feeling sick. But like always... you don't say anything.
He knows you see how he looks, how his shirt is stained and how MC's perfume clings to his clothes, but you don't say anything about it. You just stay silent on the matter. And god... why don't you say anything?
Something. Anything at all! But you don't.
Even when he takes you home, you don't call him out on it. Even when he cleans you up and takes care of you, you don't even mention why he was late. It's like you don't want him around. It's like you don't even need him.
And it hurts. He goes to shower and clean himself off and notices the way you must've slept in the bathroom. He can't help but feel guilty and horrible that he left you alone when you were so vulnerable. He can't help but feel angry that you're not even trying to rely on him anymore. That you're trying to live your life... like he wasn't going to be in it.
When he sees you, he doesn't know what to really say. You look so sick and a bit miserable, so he reaches for you. He doesn't care how he's never quite held you before, he just pulls you in close to let you rest on him.
And for once, he's really happy he gets to hold you in his arms as you sleep. For once, he presses his head into your hair, letting his tears fall as he prays quietly for you not to leave him.
Once you're better, all the dread and anxiety finally compels him to ask why you didn't call him. And you answer in a way that hurts. You always do. You tell him you didn't think it was necessary. That he was doing something important when he didn't come back.
And it was, just not in the way you thought. But at the end of it... it wasn't. It never truly was that important. It would never have been if he had just been honest with MC from the beginning. If he had simply confessed instead of lying to her.
After weeks of dealing with the Fleet and MC's venting, albeit justified, anger, she finally accepts that he probably was a changed man. And he was. And she wasn't that hurt anymore by it, because a small part of her knew that he wouldn't ever feel the same.
It was cathartic to finally let her go.
Finally he could move forward with his feelings and hopefully... hopefully still have time. Even if he wasn't entirely sure of himself, he still wanted to try.
When you tell him about the party your company was having, he was hopeful that you were going to invite him. But, when you didn't, he couldn't help but feel hurt by it. He couldn't mask the pain that you really were keeping him away.
When you offer, if he's willing, he accepts. Even if it's pity, he'll go with you. He'll show you that he's there for you.
The day of the party was... quite heartbreaking. He had no idea what kind of life you were living at work, but hearing how little you spoke of him and how much you kept secret... he couldn't really tell if he was angry or just tired.
You didn't look at him at all when you danced. So many questions. So many times he wanted you to look him in the eyes and at least say something about it. He had so much to say but not a word left his mouth as you both danced for far too many songs.
Finally, when it all became too much, he just needed to hear from you. He needed to know why.
And you shot back at him if anyone knew about you.
Caleb couldn't answer. In fact... he couldn't say anything at all. As much as he accused you of technically hiding him, he did the same. Hell, it was worse. No one outside of MC knew he was even married.
And how much of a hypocrite was he to feel upset when he did the exact same thing to you?
You didn't say anything.
And for once he was grateful you didn't.
There was so much going through his head. So much regret, anger, pain and humiliation. He couldn't even look at you without wanting to turn back time and announce to everyone he was married.
He was ashamed. Burdened with the guilt that he was just a coward.
When New Year finally rolled around, he vowed to do better. To be better. He was going to change and be the man you deserved. You deserve the best version of him and he would make sure of it.
But life was funny. He was forced to leave you for a mission that took him away for a couple weeks.
And yet for some reason... he really felt like he shouldn't go. Not with the way you looked at him as he got ready to leave. Not with the way you told him to have a safe trip.
He couldn't get the way you looked at him when he left. Those two weeks were hell if he had ever been in it. He was miserable, on edge and had far too many close calls for his liking.
But as the days got closer to coming home, the more he hoped he didn't.
Not because he wanted to stay away from you, but because he was scared of what he was praying wouldn't happen.
Your messages stopped altogether on the final day. He didn't even know why it frightened him so much, but by the time he got home, his worst fears came true.
You were gone.
And sitting on his desk were the divorce papers, your ring beside it and a note beneath.
He sobbed. For the first time since he left MC the day of the explosion, he broke down into fits of hysteria. He shouted and cursed the world. He begged the gods that didn't hear his prayers. He thought he had time. He thought he was going to be better.
He hoped you'd let him.
But here was the proof that he was too late.
After hours of crying, his voice hoarse and his eyes burning, he finally read your letter. He read every line over and over again, wishing he could stop you from writing it. But the one line he clung to, the one line that gave him hope was the way you told him that you loved him.
You wished him a happy life with the person he loved.
And by fucking God, he took that as a challenge.
He will have his happy life with the person he loved.
And you were just going to have to accept it.
All of him. And he wasn't going to let you get away.
there's more but I'm... tired. But it's a happy ending. also, again, my bad. Didn't mean for it to get this long lol.
"It dawned on me that you are quite the messy eater." Zayne's quiet words caused you to look up mid bite into the apple slices he cut for you to snack on.
You didn't really know how to respond, but your face heated up a bit, your hand reaching up to wipe your mouth on your sleeve sheepishly. Probably not helping your cause in how messy you actually were in the comfort of your — his — home.
"I'm neat when we're out in public. I follow the proper etiquettes and use the proper utensils when we're at foreign restaurants." You defended quietly, mumbling mostly to yourself as you pouted.
His quiet laugh followed after, his eyes softening towards you. "I'm aware of that, my dear. That's why I only realized it just now."
You didn't feel like he was judging you, but you still felt like you had to eat a little more properly as you carefully bit into another apple slice and tried not to shove the whole thing into your mouth like you had been doing.
"You don't need to be proper around me. Eat how you like. You're with me, after all." Closing the laptop and setting it on the side table, he leaned over to you to grab a slice, bringing it to your lips. "Open."
It was an innocent gesture, sure, but the shiver that went down your spine was definitely not. You swallowed nervously, looking him deep into the eyes as you slowly parted your lips, the crisp sweet fruit being pushed into your mouth.
He had to have noticed how flustered you got because the corner of his lips curved up a bit, his eyes hooding as he slipped the entire slice into your mouth. "Naughty."
You couldn't even defend yourself, chewing hurriedly as you turned your face away from him to hide the embarrassment. You could feel juice from the apple seep through the corners of your mouth, your hand lifting to try to wipe it away before he gently grabbed hold of your chin and pulled you to look at him.
"See? Such a messy eater." He leaned in, tongue hotly licking the juice from the corner of your mouth before dragging it to trace along your lips.
You let out a small whine from your throat, suddenly breathless with how that small act shot straight to your very core. He was such a tease, pulling back with a satisfied smile on his face.
"Delicious. You sure know how to pick the sweetest fruit." You were gonna smack him one day, face hot as you pouted.
"Not fair." You muttered, your arms snaking around his neck and keeping him close, his hands finding their way to your hips.
"Want me to feed you again?" You huffed, hearing the amusement in his tone.
"Nah, I want something else." Zayne chuckled softly, leaning into your kiss, happy to make out with you on the couch. To think that being a messy eater would lead to this, but you weren't complaining.
