·······•✦ description: In which; your vampire boyfriend keeps pushing off your worry for him, but when you find him incredibly weak in bed, you figure out exactly what he needs... And you want to give it to him...
·······•✦ pairing: afab!eader x xavier
·······•✦ word count: 4k
·······•✦ genre: smut, porn with plot, fluff
·······•✦ general tags: Vampire!Xavier, Vampires, Canon Compliant, Still canon compliant, Only difference is vampires lol, Established Relationship, Fluff, Smut, Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Blood Drinking, Xavier is Hungry, Biting, Marking, Cunnilingus, Teasing, Pleasure from Blood Drinking, Multiple Orgasms, Sexual Overstimulation, Penis In Vagina Sex, Vaginal Sex, Squirting and Vaginal Ejaculation, pussy eating, Aftercare, Creampie, POV Second Person, No Use of Y/N for Reader-Insert, Missionary Position, Sitting In Lap, Dirty Talk, Pet Names - starlight & princess
·······•✦ posted on: ao3
The first time you notice the pale tone to Xavier’s skin, he brushes it off with a simple excuse that he’s tired. Knowing what he is, the thought comes to your mind of the other things that could be going on, and you get the inkling that there’s something else than just mere exhaustion.
The second time you see the glassy glow and slightly damp expanse of his skin, you know there’s something more than meets the eye.
His apartment is at a comfortable temperature, but it’s the rise and fall of his chest, paired with the way his lips part in stuttered breaths, that has you crossing your arms, giving him a raised-eyebrow stare. “Xavier.”
“Starlight,” Xavier responds in a gentle murmur, one hand resting over his eyes.
He’s lying back on his bed, his robe half-opened to reveal the toned expanse of his chest that is glistening with a light sheen of sweat. With one hand under the pillow, he looks at you with furrowed brows.
“This isn’t just exhaustion.” The way you continue the argument—which isn’t even an argument, just you telling him an observation—leaves Xavier no choice but to drop his hand over his eyes. The hand under the pillow slips out to lie beside his head, and the other rests weakly on his half-clothed abdomen. Even his breathing is slow, and worry ebbs into your voice. “I can grab some medicine or something for you after wo-”
“I’m thirsty.” He cuts you off, not liking the tense deepness of his voice, nor the way you stare at him with wide eyes.
“Huh?” You don’t catch it the first time, his voice too quiet for you to hear through your own rambling. Dropping your arms, you chew on your bottom lip.
“I’m… thirsty,” Xavier repeats, his eyes closing as if he didn’t want to see the emotion he expects to cross your face. Throughout the year you’ve been dating, you know about his vampirism, but all Xavier expects to see when he looks at you are the emotions he’s always seen.
Disgust. Horror. Anger.
But your expression remains neutral. As if he just told you he needed a simple glass of water instead of the alternative.
“Oh.” Unsure of what to say next, you step closer, sitting on the edge of his bed. Although he doesn’t outwardly flinch away, you catch the almost imperceptible tightening of his jaw. “Well…”
Silence fills the air, your eyes running along his features. He looks dead. His lips are parted and chapped, his skin pale, and his chest rising and falling slowly with his uneven breaths. It worries you, and while you’re unsure of exactly how to help him, you want to come up with some sort of solution.
“Is there… is there anything I can do to help?” Your hand reaches out to touch his bicep as it rests across his abdomen, and a shiver shocks your system. He’s cold. He’s always warm… Always a personal heater that helps you in the winter months with cuddles under a plush blanket. Now, he’s like a corpse. “You’re cold.”
Xavier pauses, twitching at just how hot you feel compared to the chill that’s settled in his bones. He can’t even remember the last time he had to drink blood, but the hunger that itches in his stomach is a sense of discomfort that he can’t recall feeling. It doesn’t help that you—warm and alive—are sitting right next to him.
You, whom he’s spent the better part of two years next to. You, who remind him that he’s more than the label that many associate with vampires. You, who loves him despite all of the tumultuous realizations you’ve come to when learning about him, and doesn’t stop demanding nothing but the truth.
Xavier knows he can’t lie. You can read him like your favorite book. So he takes a deep breath, shaking his head. “I don’t— It’s been a long time— since I’ve had to feed.” He whispers, almost embarrassingly. “I can usually control my hunger with human food… You know my preference for meat.”
Humming, your thumb absentmindedly rubs at his skin in an attempt to calm him down. He’s explained before that he’s never hungry for blood, that his almost insatiable appetite for meat has somehow helped quell that quiet rumbling deep in his gut.
Even though Xavier tries to hide it behind humor, you can see the sleepy, half-lidded gaze that meets yours. It’s easy for him to smile, rub the back of his neck as if he’s not burning inside. However, he can’t stop the tremble in his hand that starts to wrap around your wrist.
“I’m fine,” he says, his voice a mere whisper of what it normally is. In the time you’ve been together, you’ve realized that he’s a pro at hiding his true emotions. He doesn’t give away too much, and it’s always in passing moments that he reveals the depths of his past or his actual feelings. In fact, he’s gotten infinitely better at showing just you what he needs or wants, but when faced with a hunger so deep it aches in his soul, he can’t let you see that side of him.
You can feel his muscles tense under your hold. “Bullshit.” As your eyes linger on the bulging veins in his neck, you inspect his chest with your other hand. “You’re very obviously not fine.” It takes every ounce of restraint in you not to shiver when you rest your entire palm in the middle of his chest. He’s like a block of ice, prickling at your skin until you have to pull back with a frown.
The idea of him dying over something like this sends you into a panic. He can’t die. He just can’t. “You need blood.” The end of your sentence trails off, and your hovering hand finds the edge of his open robe. It doesn’t sit right with you to let him lie here and suffer, especially when there’s maybe something you can do about it…
The answer is simple, and Xavier catches the gleam in your eye before you can voice your thought.
“No.”
“But Xavi–”
“Starlight,” his voice is a hiss now, sharp and unstable as his tremors have become. “I said no.” Xavier’s jaw is clenched so tight that you can see the muscles flinch under the resistance.
“You need blood.” You repeat, staring down at your wrist that holds the answer to his dilemma. “How else can you get it?”
He pauses, giving you enough time to sneak another thought in. “It’s not going to hurt me, is it?”
“Quite the opposite, starlight.” Xavier rubs a hand across his face. “You’ll feel good. Really good.” His Adam’s apple bobs, and you reason that he’s imagining you twisting in pleasure as he feeds from you.
“Okay…” Your eyebrow raises, not seeing the issue. “Then let’s do it. Let me help you.”
Xavier sneaks a glance, his pupils getting larger. “That’s the thing,” he mumbles, “once I get a taste of you, my instincts will take over. I don’t want to take more than you can give me.” His eyes close once again, covered by his arm as he pulls it from your grasp. “A person who hurts you doesn’t deserve to take from you.”
Slowly, giving him the opportunity to wrench away, you tiptoe your fingers up his torso. At the first touch of your index finger on his bare abdomen, he tenses, but doesn’t pull away. Actually, he welcomes the lingering warmth that sits on his skin as you make your way up his chest, holding gently to his jaw.
“What if I want this person to take from me?” The whisper sends a shiver through Xavier. “What if,” The pad of your thumb traces his jawline, “I trust that this person would never hurt me?”
Watching you with heavy eyes, Xavier drags his gaze across your face, seeing that you’re not backing down. With a sigh, he lets both of his arms fall to his sides, lingering so close to your waist but not touching.
“Go on,” you whisper, moving to straddle his waist. “Touch me.” The moment your thighs bracket his hips, you both share a soft gasp, speaking without words. There’s no mistaking the want that pulses with each beat of your heart, or the inexplicable connection when you nuzzle your nose against his. “I trust you, Xavier.”
Xavier shudders as your breath hits his lips, and your scent — god, your scent — is intoxicating. “Princess,” he lifts his head, barely grazing your mouth with his own. “Are you sure?” The whites of his eyes peek out from beneath his irises, and you find yourself leaning closer.
Before you can speak — something close to begging — Xavier dips his head down, kissing the top of your clothed shoulder. His arm wraps around you, his large palm pressing into your upper back. Stealth is Xavier’s greatest weapon, and you’re so mesmerized by his already hard cock pressing against you through his sweatpants that you don’t realize he’s hooking a finger into the collar of your shirt.
Warm lips press to your bare skin, and you cling tighter to him as he gets closer and closer to your neck. Each kiss is accompanied by a sigh, both of knowing you’re so willing to help him like this, to give him part of you, and the thought of sharing something so intimate. It’s more than sex. Deeper and more passionate. Blood is what keeps you alive, and Xavier is going to sap some of that from you.
“It’ll feel good,” Xavier whispers, his voice husky. “You might scratch me, or pull my hair.” He plants another kiss at the apex of your shoulder and neck, sucking at the skin. “Do whatever you need, starlight.”
You can’t help the natural arch into him, wanting him even closer than he already is. “Xavier.” The whimper is soft, and you’re not sure if it’s the gentle hold he has on you or the subtle grinding of his hips against yours, but you’re more than eager to have him bite you. “Please.”
“Patience,” his grip tightens against the back of your neck, anchoring you there to him. “I’ll only take a little.” The finger hooked into your shirt collar pulls a bit more, but it’s obviously become troublesome for Xavier to get a good grip on you like this. “Take this off.”
Hands clamber to throw off your shirt, and Xavier takes a moment to admire you, shirtless, in his lap. “You look gorgeous like this.” A palm cups the weight of your breast. “Like a fox caught in a bunny’s trap.” His lips wrap around one of your nipples, and you respond with a soft moan of his name. Your hand threads through his hair, cupping the back of his head in a way that’s less controlling and more reassuring.
Xavier takes his sweet time kissing up your chest, making sure to give the same attention to the other nipple, before landing right back at your neck. “Now that that’s out of the way.” He kisses the spot right below your ear, and when he speaks, it’s a sinful whisper. “Tap the back of my neck if you’re feeling lightheaded.”
“Okay,” you whisper, lips cresting the shell of his ear as he takes another weak, shuddering breath. Even as he takes another long inhale of your scent, you shiver in his grasp. He can smell the slight fear radiating from you, the hand in his hair tightening slightly as you close your eyes and relax into him.
“You’re scared,” Xavier says it so simply, pulling back to look you in the eyes. He’s so pale, with an almost translucent hue to his cheeks that means you can almost see the veins under his skin.
“Not of you,” you whisper, massaging his scalp while the other hand cups his cheek. “I’ve never done this before.” But you’re determined, tilting your head to the side in an open invite. “I’ll be okay, trust me.”
Xavier isn’t easily convinced.
In one quick motion, he’s flipping you onto your back, pressing your bare back into the sheets with a weak gentleness. You keep a steady grip on him, legs wrapped around his hips as he grinds down against you.
“No.” His tone deepens, looking down at you with such intensity that you almost melt under him. “I know a way to relax you.”
Xavier waits for your nod before dipping back down to kiss your neck. For a moment, you almost think he’s going to bite you, but he doesn’t. He moves down your bare chest, kissing over your breasts, making sure both nipples are spit-slicked and thoroughly pleasured. His mouth whispers praises across your stomach, and when he uses his teeth to tug down your shorts, you can see the sharp canines almost glinting in the light.
“You’re so gorgeous, starlight.” His hands part your knees, hooking them over his shoulders as he kisses right above the joint. “Thank you,” Xavier whispers, closing his eyes as he kisses slowly up your thigh, close to the seat of your panties. “For letting me do this.”
A sharp nip of his teeth at your thigh has your hand shooting down to thread through his hair, but his tongue immediately soothes the sting. It’s not enough to draw blood, not yet, but your answering moan of his name spurs Xavier further.
His lips press against the seat of your panties, feeling how wet you are through the fabric. “All this for me?” He teases, sitting up on his knees and toying with the waistband of your underwear. In one swoop, he’s maneuvering them off of you, leaving the only article of clothing on either of you, the sweatpants hanging low on Xavier’s hips. Where he discarded his robe, you don’t know, but as his breath ghosts over your pussy, you don’t find it in yourself to care.
“All for you,” you whimper at the first long lick through your folds that Xavier delivers, collecting your arousal on his tongue. The groan he lets out is sinful, defying the laws of heaven and hell for a taste of his angel lying under him.
“Your blood,” Xavier dips his tongue into your entrance, the tip of his nose teasing your clit. “Will not compare to how good your pussy tastes.” With his eyes closed, body nearly flat on the mattress, hips grinding down to soothe a fraction of the ache in his pants, he looks like he’s praying.
Xavier continues to feast, eating you out with a fervor that is concerning with how cold his hands are as they plant on your thighs, or the still pale complexion. Especially the labored breaths he takes when he’s buried face-first in your pussy.
“Xavier–” your thoughts are cut off when he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, being mindful of his still distended fangs so he doesn’t nick you. “Don’t, fu–ck, don’t overdo– it.” The last thing you want is for him to pass out, or worse, while you’re grinding onto his face.
He mumbles something unintelligible, not wanting to part from your essence for too long. “I’m okay,” Xavier murmurs, his breath coming out deep and slow. “I’ll be fine.” His heart is beating just a second slower, sure, but all that matters is that your thighs are closing around his head, and your fingers tug strands of silver hair out right at the root. “Come for me, princess.”
When he goes back for more, tracing the tip of his tongue around your entrance while flicking his nose over your clit, your vision blanks. All you can focus on is Xavier’s tongue everywhere, his icy cold hands anchoring you in the fire as he holds you still.
“Good girl.” You don’t register that he’s hovering over you until you can taste yourself on his tongue, slick spreading over your swollen lips as you mindlessly push at his sweatpants.
“Shhhh,” he soothes you with a final kiss, pulling back just enough so your hand doesn’t reach his bulge. “Let me do this.”
Lying back on the bed, you watch as he strips himself of his sweatpants, your ears ringing and pulsing with your own heartbeat. Blood rushes through your eardrums, and if his nipping at your thigh felt good, you can only imagine what his actual bite will feel like.
You’re so pliant that Xavier easily parts your thighs for him to settle between, the tip of his cock tracing your folds and teasing you just enough to pull a desperate whimper from you. Reaching up, you hook your arms around his neck, pulling him closer until your noses bump.
“Please,” you plead, wrapping one leg around him as you beg. “Do it.” The side of your head tilts, exposing the same expanse of skin Xavier was previously ready to sink his fangs into.
“I will,” he soothes you with a kiss to the tip of your nose, a weak smile curling at his lips as he finally, finally sinks into your warmth. “Fuck…”
You watch the emotions flicker through him as you yourself submit to the pleasurable stretch of his cock. Inch by inch, you tilt your hips up, sharing breaths until his pelvis goes flush against yours.
“Good?” He asks, studying you and listening to your heartbeat. It’s much calmer than before, no hint of fear. Instead, it’s only anticipation and a desperation to help him. “Remember… What I said earlier…” Xavier leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your pulse point. “Tap the back of my neck–”
“If I’m feeling lightheaded.” You finish his earlier ask with a sigh. “I know, I know.” Shimmying your hips, you groan when you feel just how full you are. “I’ll be okay, trust me.”
Xavier nods, his hair tickling your cheek as he nuzzles further against you. His entire body presses against yours, and there isn’t a part of you that doesn’t feel him. Not in the tips of your fingers threaded through his hair, or the tense muscles of his lower back felt by your feet digging into him.
With one long breath, Xavier bites, and your whole world explodes.
Fire and ice curl together, racing through your veins in a race to fill every part of you. First, it’s the slight sting of his teeth sinking into you, but it’s immediately coupled by prickling electricity surging across your skin, raising the little hairs on your arms in their wake.
The only thing you can manage is a soft, “Xavier”, as he drinks, your body clenching around him. Your pussy tightens around his cock, and Xavier, in turn, groans into you, his hips working in slow thrusts to help you cope with the intensity of this.
It’s intimate, more intimate than you’ve been together despite going through all of the normal couple milestones. But this is more than that. It’s about sharing life with him, and you would do it ten times over if it meant you could have your Xavier with you.
Xavier can feel your heart racing, beating through his fangs as he closes his eyes and relishes the warmth that fills him. His hands are no longer biting cold, and color returns to his once translucent cheeks.
He can barely think about anything except your pussy wrapped around his cock and your sweet blood filling his throat. It’s the greatest elixir, his own personal alcohol that will leave him dizzy and flushed with happiness. He’s never been one to drink alcohol — it doesn’t affect vampires as much as it does humans, and tastes gross — but from seeing people stumbling through alleys at night, he can guess that it’s a high like no other.
But this? This is his second favorite taste, only behind your pussy.
“Fu–ck,” your back arches into him, a sudden chill passing through you as pleasure crests to an overwhelming degree. It’s part overstimulation from your previous orgasm added to this impending one, but also heightened from whatever sensations that Xavier’s drinking does to your body. “I’m…”
You can’t finish your sentence, words fail you the moment you let your body go, transcending to another plane as you clutch at Xavier like a lifeline. His back is the perfect place to count your score, drawing lines of red over his flexing muscles as he fucks into you with each slow suck of his mouth over your neck.
It’s impossible to feel anything else but the twitching of his cock inside you, and his own muffled groans against you as he falls over the edge alongside you. He fills you to the brim, but you don’t feel the slight trickle of come leaking from you when the tips of your fingers start to run a little cold…
Xavier realizes what’s happening before you tap the back of his neck. It’s not that you’re getting lightheaded. In fact, it’s the opposite. You feel connected to everything around you, especially Xavier. His scent wraps around you, soothing you into a strange sense of safety that you haven’t felt before. Sure, you always feel safe around him, but it’s like his bite has opened doors that you didn’t know could be opened to you.
“Starlight?” Xavier cups your cheeks, staring down at you with wide eyes as he pulls out of you and frantically checks your body for signs of the worst. “Are you okay?”
You lie there for a moment, watching Xavier press his cheek against your palm and finding it slightly cold. “Mhm,” you hum, smiling at him like a patient coming back from anesthesia. “I’m great.” Your voice is weaker than before, but you’re completely coherent as Xavier runs his hands up and down your sides. “You’re warm again.”
With a sigh of relief, Xavier rests his forehead on your collarbone, listening to your heartbeat stabilize into a normal rhythm. “All thanks to you.” He kisses your sweaty skin, finding the exact spot where your very human heart reminds him how alive you are, and how fragile you can be in the arms of someone like him.
“Stay right there,” Xavier suddenly stands, slipping his sweatpants back on.
Still in the same position he left you in, you give him a weak thumbs up. “‘m not going anywhere, handsome.”
Xavier mumbles something with a blushing smile before rushing out to the kitchen. The sound of running water, rummaging cabinets, and drawers continues until he steps back into his room with a bottle of juice, a damp cloth, and a small fruit snack.
“Here.” He sets the food and drink on the nightstand, focusing first on wiping off the sticky sweat, come, and saliva from your body with gentle precision. Xavier is meticulous, and yes, he’s incredibly aroused by how beautiful you look right now, with healing bite marks on your neck, a satiated smile on your face, and trusting eyes that only look for him. However, he knows that it’s important to take care of you properly, especially after drinking so much of your blood.
“You’re the best,” you murmur through heavy-lidded eyes and a stupidly wide smile. You let Xavier prop you up on the headboard, grab one of his shirts from his dresser, and help you slip into it.
“I disagree,” he counters, sitting on the bed beside you and bringing the bottle of juice to your lips. “You’re the best girlfriend I could ask for.”
Staring at him from the corner of your eye, you flicker your gaze between him and the juice. “I can do it myself…”
“I know. But I want to do this for you.” The way he speaks, so softly and gently, but still with a stern determination, has you relenting. His other hand skims the remnants of his fangs. “These will go away in a few hours.”
You let your head fall to his shoulder, opening your mouth and chewing on the bite of food he places on your tongue. “Mmmm,” you groan in satisfaction, reaching down to squeeze his bicep. “I don’t mind them… They’re kinda bad-ass, huh? I got bit by a vampire and survived.”
“You’re so funny,” Xavier says in a monotone voice, but breaks at a small chuckle.
“But really,” you turn your head to look at Xavier, smiling at him. “I would gladly do it again, whenever you’re hungry… Especially if I get that kinda treatment.”
Xavier groans, but pecks your lips. “Of course, starlight. Whatever you wish.”
Imagine Alpha LADS x Beta non mc reader. the beginning.
Imagine if there was something people knew about you, it was that if somebody threw a party within a ten kilometer radius, you would somehow end up there. Not because you actively searched for them, not because you were desperate for attention.
Imagine, you just... ended up there like a stray cat. A particularly attractive stray cat with questionable decision making skills and concern amount of confidence. Tonight happened to be your best friend's birthday. And because your best friend was just as ridiculous as you were, they hadn't settled for a simple celebration. Instead, they rent a stupidly large house, the kind that had swimming pool outside and a billiards room inside.
Imagine it was the kind that looked like it belonged in rich kid dramas. The kind that immediately made people think, 'We're absolutely getting kicked out by midnight.' Yet somehow, nobody did which is honestly shocking.
Imagine the backyard was alive with music, the pool lights painted everything blue and purple. People were swimming, dancing, and drinking. Somebody was trying to do a handstand on a pool float while another person was actively encouraging them. You gave them another three minutes before disaster struck.
"Five bucks say they eat shit." "You're awful." "I'm realistic." The birthday girl snorted on her drink, making you grin as your cigarette dangled lazily from your fingers. The water was still dripping from your shirt from when somebody had pushed you into the pool fifteen minutes ago. Not that you minded. You'd just climbed out laughing, stole somebody's towel, then somebody else's drink.
Imagine that leads you exactly where you were now, sitting on the armrest of an outdoor couch, looking entirely too comfortable as usual. In which people always asked how you managed to be so relaxed. And the truth was quite simple, you just genuinely didn't care about most things. Not in a depressing way, not in a meaningless way. It was just... If something happened, it happened. If it worked out, great. If it didn't, you'd figure something else out. Life is easier that way, a lot easier. Especially when compared to everyone around you constantly stressing themselves into early graves.
Imagine the way you took a drag from your cigarette. The sweet taste settled on your tongue, it was strawberry tonight, or maybe raspberry. You weren't entirely sure, the flavors changed every shipment. One time they had sent watermelon, you nearly cried tears of joy. As far as you can recall, the cigarettes themselves were technically part of some medical trial. Something about prototype pheromone suppressants. Beta compatibility. Cilincal testing. Research.
Imagine it was something your doctor had spent nearly twentey minutes explaining everything five months ago. One you had listened politely, or at least pretended to. Then they mentioned unlimited supplies, and flavored options. You signed the paperwork immediately. The one you were apparently helping modern medicine advance. In reality, you mostly care about the free flavored cigarettes. A fair exchange, at least on your opinion. Then someone plucked the cigarette right out of your fingers. You didn't even look.
"Rude." "Sharing is caring." "Buy your own." "You literally got them for free." "...That's not the point." The cigarette thief laughed, thats when you finally glanced up. Cute. You thought. Very cute. Actually, maybe he's dangerously cute. You had been talking to people most of the night. Not exclusively, you talked to everybody. But this guy somehow remained nearby throughtout the evening. A feat not many people managed, mostly because your attention span was terrible.
Imagine a hand suddenly landed on your shoulder, another friend, then another, then another. At some point you had accidentally collected a small crowd. You didn't know how it happened, but it always happened. People just kind of gathered. Maybe because you were easy to talk to. Maybe because you remembered people's names, mostly. Maybe because you treated everyone the same, or maybe because you were just entertaining to watch. Especially when you were losing.
which Imagine had brought everybody's attention to the billiards room. More specifically, to you, who is currently losing terribly. The cue stick rested against your shoulder, you stare at the table, and the table stared back. The ball remained exactly where it was and the room held its breath. Then you took the shot and completely missed. The entire room exploded, people doubled over laughing, someone fell off a couch. You just looked down at the cue stick, then at ball, then back at the cue stick.
"...I think it's broken." "You missed the entire table!" "Technicalities." "You aimed for ten seconds!" "Well, clearly it wasn't enough." You said shrugging and the laughter somehow got worse. So far you lost every game. Every single one. At one point, you accidentally sent the cue ball flying into the other table which earn you a round of applause. You bowed naturally. Because if you were going to fail, you might as well fail spectacularly.
Imagine hours passed, the party grew louder, then softer, then louder again. People drifted between room, conversation changed, the music changed, the atmosphere shifted the way parties always did once midnight crept closer. The chaos mellowed into something warmer, more intimate. People sat closer, laughed quieter, found corners, found moments. You on the other hand ended up back outside eventually. Near the pool, feet dangling in the water as cigarette balanced between your lips.
Imagine someone sat beside you. The same cute guy from earlier. He was close enough that your shoulder occasionally brushed. Neither of you moved anyway. The coversation came easy, everything always did. You talked about stupid things, favorite drinks, terrible classmates, the weird guy who attempted a flip into the pool. Then came future plans, the lack of future plans. You admitted you had absoltely no clue what you were doing with your life, to which they admitted they didn't either. And it was nice, comfortable. It was the kind of conversation that slipped by unnoticed. One minute, ten minutes, turns into an hour.
Imagine someone eventually called your name from across the yard, making you pause from the conversation and looked up. Across the yard someone blew you a kiss dramatically. You blew one back. Making the person beside you groan. "There you go again?" "What?" You asked, looking at him confused. "That." "What?" "Flirting." "I was being polite." "Nobody is that polite." You looked genuienly confused, which only made him laugh harder. "You're impossible." "So I've heard."
Imagine the way he shook his head, smiling. And his smile lingered, so did yours. Neither disappearing, neither looking away. The air shifted, not dramatically, just enough. Enough that when they leaned slightly closer, niether of you seemed surprised. The party continued around you. The music, the laughter, the splashing of water, the distant shouting. But it felt further away now, like background noise, like something happening to other people.
Imagine the two of you enventually ended up inside, not because you planned to, not because he planned to, it just happened anyway. Like one conversation leading to another, one room leading to another. Until you found yourself in a quieter hallway, away from most of the crowd. The music reduced to a distant heartbeat through the walls.
Imagine the two of you were still talking, still laughing, still standing a little too close. Your shoulder rested against the wall as they stood in front of you. Looking amused and comfortable. Looking entirely too pretty. "You know." He said, playing with your hair. "Hm?" "You really have no idea, do you?" "No idea about what?" "The effect you have on people." You blink, then laughed. "Oh, that's dramatic." "I'm serious." "That's concerning." "You think everybody likes you." "Nahhh I don't." You laugh. "You act like it." You considered, then eventually shrugged. "Maybe I just like everybody."
Imagine the way he simply started, then he laughed, something fond hidden underneath it. The kind that settled somewhere warm in your chest. Eventually the conversation faded, not abruptly, just natural. The way good conversations did. A glance lingering slightly longer. A smile refusing to disappear. The distance between you shrinking without either of you noticing. Then eventually, the talking stopped entirely. A brief kiss. Sweet, warm. Followed by laughter when both of you immediately smiled afterwards. Then another, the kind that felt less like some grand romantic moment and more like two people genuinely enjoying each other's company.
Imagine it was simple, easy, and comfortable. A lot like the rest of your life. At least until your phone started vibrating. You ignore it. Then it vibrated again, and again. The person in front of you groaned dramatically. "If you check that phone, I'm leaving." "You won't." "...Fair." You laugh, winking at him before you pulled your phone out of your pocket. Then glance at the screen, and froze.
Imagine the way everything stopped, the hallway, the music, the conversation. Even your breathing. For a second all you could was stare. The sender, the subject, the words. Then stare at it again, because there was absolutely no way- no fucking way. Your eyes darted across the screen. Once, twice, then three times. You were accepted. Accepted at Skyhaven academy Engineering Department. Your mouth fell open. "What happened?" You couldn't answer. "What happened?" Then a laugh escaped you. Disbelieving, half delighted. Seriously. "Oh my God." "What?" "I got in." "What?" "I GOT IN."
Imagine the way those words echoed throught the hallway. Several nearby partygoers immediately turned. But you didn't care. Because somehow, you. The class cutting, party hopping, chain smoking idiot who signed up for medical research because the cigarettes were flavored. The one who took the entrace exam just because it looks fun- Had actually gotten accepted. Suddenly, your future felt real. Not something distant. Not something to worry about later.
Imagine it was real, terrifiying, exciting, and waiting. So as you stand there in a noisy hallway while a party raged around you, cigarette tucked behind one ear with your heart threatening to burst from your chest. You couldn't stop grinning. Because somehow, against all odds. Against all expectations. Against your own expectations. You started at the acceptance letter again and grinned, wide, dangerous and excited. The kind of grin your friends would immediately recognize as trouble. Because it always meant the same thing. An adventure was coming and whethere you were ready or not. You were absolutely going to throw yourself headfirst into it.
[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2026°
: blame my typos on Ace, Sabo, Shigaraki, Dabi, Izuki, Katsuki and Shoto because I spend the night crying (+ editing) because of them (watched the last season of BNHA and rewatch marinefort + dressrosa arc) so expected some ff about them soon.
: if you're looking for the boys, they would be on the next updates. If ya'll want to be tagged, just... say so?
1. Getting railed in every sundress you own to make up for lost time, with Caleb.
2.Hide and Seek with Sylus but then it turns into Find and Fuck.
3. Xavier's skincare is you sitting on his face.
4. Zayne loves your lingerie so much he doesn't take it off. He just pulls the top down and your panties to the side 90% of the time.
5. “yeah? right there?” in a mocking voice with Rafayel.
6. Forehead kisses with Caleb while he pumps you full of his cum.
7. Forced eye contact, chin held between fingers and being told in a calm, but firm voice "dont look away, I want to watch your face when you cum, with Sylus.
8.Cuddles that get sexual then sweet again with Xavier.
9. Bulge pics from work to show you that he misses you, with Zayne.
10. Rafayel kisses every single birthmark, scar, mole and freckle as he undresses you.
11. "I know baby" while you are cumming with Caleb.
12. Sylus fucks you so good you masturbate the next day thinking about it.
13. Thighjobs with Xavier
14. Suck on my fingers before I slide them inside you with Zayne.
15. Cockwarming while he sucks on your tits with Rafayel
16 Stroking his cock and not breaking eye contact until he cums all over you with Caleb.
17. Cockwarming after creampie with Sylus.
18. Catch 22 verse: Having sex with Xavier through the bars of the cage.
19. Footsie under the table during an important dinner with Zayne.
20. Tying up and only using a brush to make Rafayel cum.
21. Size kink with Caleb.
22.Insecurity with reader that turns into full blown sex with Sylus.
23. Hidden kiss with Xavier.
24. Zayne cumming untouched.
25. Rafayel training you to take both of his cocks.
26. Strip poker with Caleb.
27. Rough mirror sex with Jealous Sylus.
28. Sexsomnia with Xavier
29. Breaking the bed with Zayne for the first time.
30. You change your mind about having sex during sex with Rafayel.
31. Reader is so loud during sex with Sylus the twins think there is someone getting murdered.
BONUS The boys getting cockblocked the whole week and you finding it funny. (ALL of them)
Thank you for all of the ideas! I will probably add more to this list later on.
A/N: Inspiration struck me like a brick to the face so here we are. I too, wish Xavier could live between my thighs (for sweet and sexy reasons ☺️)
It was a quiet Saturday morning in Xavier's apartment. You sat comfortably on the couch with a sleepy Xavier resting his head between your plush thighs.
A blissful sigh escapes his slightly parted lips. "Mmmm....I wish I could live here forever." he mumbles against your inner thigh.
You chuckle softly while gently petting his head as he lets out more sounds of contentment. He's exactly where he wants to be. Seeing him so comfortable you can't help but wanting to tease him a little.
"You can't live here Xavi, but you can come and visit whenever you want." you say with mischief on your mind. If Xavier's eyes were open he'd see the growing smirk that adorns your face. Lucky for you he's too busy basking in the warmth of his favorite pillows. Xavier happily nuzzles your thighs unaware of what's to come.
"I'll even offer you a meal from time to time." you emphasize your words with a light squeeze of your thighs. This gets his attention just like you hoped it would. His eyes snap open immediately and when he looks up at you there is a noticeable difference in his gaze. The soft and cuddly Xavier who was here just mere moments ago is nowhere to be found.
You bite your lip and move Xavier's disheveled bangs from his eyes hoping to get a better view of what you've done.
"What?" you smirk knowingly. "Is my esteemed guest hungry?"
Xavier's jaw twitches ever so slightly at your comment. His eyes are lidded and pupils blown with need. The rise and fall of his chest becomes more noticeable as his breathing quickens in anticipation.
EXTRA EXTRA READ ALL ABOUT IT CALEB’S IN HIS FEELINGS AND HE CAN’T GET OUT OF IT…
Sypnosis: Caleb x non!mc — you find out he only used you in this marriage of three, and had a child with you to prove to the world that he, Caleb Xia, had moved on. 7k words. Warnings: HURT NO COMFORT no seriously, x reader is a stretch. mentions of pregnancy, birth and cheating. A/N: Sorry for the wait. I smoked 7 cigs in the process of writing this (working through my 8th now as I do the formatting). this stemmed from a little ask that was just too angsty to write a simple blurb on. highly suggest listening to mitski while reading this/earrings by malcolm todd (of which the title originates from) for the maximum angst experience.
There were three of you in this marriage, so naturally, it was a bit crowded.
Part of you felt unbelievably happy to be at the altar with Caleb Xia, yet another part of you couldn’t ignore the nudging feeling that something was very wrong with your husband-to-be.
To the spectators of the wedding, Caleb seemed perfectly composed. Not that most of them would know him any better than you did of the man you were about to dedicate the rest of your life to. The audience of the simple wedding at the courthouse consisted of your family and friends, and for Caleb…well, the only three people who he invited were Gideon and…
And her. MC. Of course.
You’ve always had an idea of who she was. It was hard not to acknowledge the woman your husband was obsessed with, is still obsessed with. You knew how much MC weighed on Caleb’s heart, and you could only guess how much that weight doubled when MC, instead of marrying him, married some cardiologist friend of hers. And you could piece together that you were nothing more than a trophy of proof for Caleb to show that he had moved on.
Yet, you still naively believed that, just like any good fairy tale, Caleb would eventually fall in love with you.
But one look into his empty, loveless eyes, as he signed your marriage certificate, told you otherwise. The chaste, brief kiss you exchanged felt like more of an obligation to show to the wedding guests rather than a genuine embrace of a husband and wife.
But then again, you didn’t think you expected much more.
In fact, Caleb looked happier when after the ceremony, MC bounded up with him with a grin, patting his hair and congratulating him for getting married and finally, finally moving on. To which he blushed and replied to her with something inaudible to you.
So from the very beginning, there’s always been three there has always been three in the spaces you occupied with your husband, three at the altar (you wondered if Caleb had imagined it was MC standing in your place on your wedding day), three in the bed (you could even imagine MC lying in empty space inbetween you and Caleb as you slept, and three at the table (at first before Caleb had learnt more about you, the dishes he served were all reminecent of MC’s favourites). You knew MC haunted, haunts, your marriage. But like any good wife, you looked the other way and hoped for the best.
Although it was not that you expected for Caleb to start acting like your husband right off the bat (you told yourself he needed time to heal). Not that you expected him to treat you like MC. Not that you never stopped praying that the underdog (you) of the story may prevail eventually. Yet the silence in his cold, gray penthouse, the lack of physical touch between the two of you, the meals consumed in harrowing conversation (you’d have to give it to him for always trying to ask you how your day was everyday), the nights spent so far away from each other, was slowly convincing you that this marriage was nothing but one of convenience. All you did was try your best to keep holding onto the hope that maybe things would change with Caleb for the better.
About two years into the marriage, Caleb surprised you by asking if you could have a child together.
You were shocked he was the one to ask.
Your remembered first attempt at intimacy had gone miserably. You could freshly recall on your wedding night when Caleb had loomed over you in the darkness of the bedroom, his chest heaving - though he hadn’t moved to do anything, anything at all - with spots of tears forming in the crease of his eye. After ten minutes of silence, he rolled off you.
‘I— I’m sorry…I- I can’t.’
You had told him it was okay. And you never mentioned it again, so you were coloured surprised when Caleb meekly asked you, as if he thought you might get upset, to try for a baby.
Fortunately for him, it only took about three times before you presented him with a positive pregnancy test. Fortunately for you as well, since each attempt was very awkward, terrifyingly so. You had no idea where you should have out your hands, your legs, if he even wanted your hands on him— and neither did Caleb know what to do with his touch. You’d think he didn’t want a baby by how hesitant he was acting. However, eventually when you did hand him that test with two pink lines, Caleb’s face practically glowed. You had never seen your husband, in all these years of marriage, look so…happy, so much more like his actual age than the cold, gloomy colonel you were married to. For the first time, you saw the sunny Caleb that you only got to know through photos stuck in dusty albums in the corners of your home. He hugged you, kissed you, and laughed in relief.
Relief?
Honestly, you were somewhat relieved too. Usually, Caleb would be away for prolonged periods of time, always muttering about something to to with the fleet, a mission, training, before departing for sometimes weeks at a time, but ever since you got pregnant, Caleb cut back on prolonged duties and stayed by your side if he could. There was one thing you could never complain about him, was that when it really came down to it, Caleb was not a bad husband by the books. He constantly cooks, cleans, cares and caters for you, and even more so now, he’ll drop whatever is on hand at moment’s notice to come running to you if you said you felt the slightest bit of discomfort. Plus, with all the baby essentials Caleb had purchased, they had really livened up the house much more. You watch as he assembles them without the need to look at the instructions whilst sitting on the floor of the living room. As he fusses about with you taking the right supplements, about getting enough sleep…it’s cute. It’s the closest feeling you’ve ever experienced to having a real husband, despite being married for well over two years now.
On a muggy afternoon, you inched out of Caleb’s grasp (he has now found it in himself to sleep closer to you with one hand usually over your stomach if you allow it) and wobbled your way to the walk in closet for some airier clothes. As you sifted through the racks, you accidentally knocked out a few photos from Caleb’s colonel service coat, which fluttered down to the bottom of the closet. Crouching down (whilst you still could), you inspected the photos.
Oh.
It was a laminated photo of your baby’s ultrasound. Not just that, but on the edges of the photo, written neatly in his handwriting in pen, were the words: [name]’s ultrasound appointment on xx/xx/xxxx.
Adorable, you thought, that Caleb carried this around with him. You privately wondered if he would proudly show it off to his co-workers or his underlings. You hoped he might, maybe even boast a little about how lucky he and his wife was. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, wondering if this marriage was finally taking a step into the right direction.
But right next to that photo was that necklace. When U Come Back. You knew very well the story behind that necklace, how MC had given it to him before he left for the aerospace academy. How he used to wear it, 24/7, but had at least the decency to stop wearing it at all times and only keep it on him, after he married you. Yes, at least he had the decency to now never take off your wedding bands. Your eyes glazed over the necklace again. Bitterly, you wondered if he’d ever want to carry a photo of him and you someday.
Nevermind. You dried your eyes quickly. At least in this marriage, both he and you, are getting something that you both wanted, something that you will both cherish more than anything.
A bouncing baby girl.
He wanted your baby. He needed your baby. He wanted to be a father, because he wanted to be a father, a nurturing, loving figure, right? And not for any other reason? Right?
Right.
Two weeks later, whilst tidying up the kitchen, your hand bumped against a bright yellow lunchbox patterned with little apple stickers, long forgotten beneath a pile of documents and papers. Fondly, you picked it up.
In the very earliest days of your marriage, you had done the domestic, wifely thing of making your husband a lunchbox before he departed for work every morning. And he had returned an empty box everytime, down to the last grain of rice being picked clean. You still remember the fuzzy feeling of seeing Caleb smile at you, thanking you for such a delicious meal, how his subordinates had all fawned over the presentation, how delicious it was, how lucky the colonel was to have such a lovely wife…
So why not do it again? You thought merrily, after all, you haven’t made him a packed lunch in a while. Maybe showing up at his work with a delicious lunchbox might perk him up. Excitedly, you got into your car and made your way down into central Skyhaven.
Entering the fleet HQ, you were immediately guided to your husband’s office.
You were about to turn the handle and step in - usually there weren’t much visitors in his office in the middle of the day - but a chorus of loud voices stopped you.
“And to Caleb! The newest dad-to-be!”
“The first of all of us to be a father, actually.”
You heard a round of clinking cups. It must be Caleb, inviting his flight school friends to celebrate the impending birth of your child. At his office though…strange. But it must be because he’s been so busy, he hardly had any time to go anywhere except his workplace and his home.
“Woah…no, no more.” You recognised that as Caleb’s voice. You could imagine his hand gliding over to cover the surface of his glass.
Drinking? In the middle of the day? Seriously? You snorted, hand going down on the handle again, But at least it’s to a good cause. Caleb being a new dad and all.
“But seriously. Here’s also to your marriage not being a total disaster!”
Your stopped before you could push against the door.
“It’s not. A total disaster.” Caleb said, his voice a bit slurred though not completely drunk.
“Yeah, yeah…we all know you had the hots for MC, but she ended up marrying that sexy doctor instead of the big bag colonel, didn’t she, oof—!”
A thud. Caleb had probably slammed whoever said that against the wall. A series of ‘ooohs’ followed.
“Kidding, kidding…”
“You better be.” Caleb dusted his hands off, sinking back into his seat. “I’ve long moved on from MC. I even have proof.”
“Oh yeah? Don’t tell me it’s—”
He pulled out the ultrasound picture that he kept in his uniform pocket, showing it to everyone in the room.
“I had a child with my wife. Can’t you see how much I’ve moved on already? I can have a child with someone who’s not MC. See?”
Tears stung your vision.
So thats what he was using that picture for.
Not for a happy memory’s keepsake, no. But to show the world that he, Colonel Caleb Xia, the yearner, the lover, the oh-so-perfect man…has moved on from his sweet MC.
…
You quickly threw the lunchbox you made away, and fled the building. You needed to get away from him, in that moment. You didn’t want to linger on in this kind of feeling anymore.
…
Time passes a lot quicker, you found, when it wasn’t just you in the house all day. With Caleb by your side (more or less constantly in the final few months of your pregnancy) the days had quickly passed. And before you knew it, there was a living, breathing infant in your arms.
The birth was easy, and again, you were grateful for Caleb’s support (he never left your side in those six hours, plus you’ve heard far too many horror stories of baby daddies bringing their Xbox, or not showing up at all…) though admittedly you swore at him multiple times and eventually snapped at him to wait outside. However, part of you feared he might react to an actual baby, his and your baby, with regret and hesitation. You couldn’t shake the fear that Caleb might feel prejudiced against a baby you made with him instead of one borne from him and MC. But those fears quickly evaporated when you saw Caleb crying, sniffling, holding the little pink bundle in his arms.
Both Caleb and you were overjoyed, though also albeit scared, naturally like most first-time parents. He was seriously dedicated at every step. Again, you’d have to give it to him for being a good dad.
After returning from the hospital, he never allowed you to get up in the middle of the night to soothe the baby. He never complained about doing the messy work that came with babies, often willingly taking care of all her wants every day as if trying to prove a point. He now even tries to come home earlier and go on less long-distance fleet missions to spend more time with the baby, something he’s never done for you in the time you were married. You watched as he poured his whole heart into being a good dad for a tiny little girl. A perfect masculine figure. Ever so sensitive to what she needed.
But what about what you needed?
Sometimes when you come home after a day out with your friends or a solo trip somewhere, the moment you open the door to your home, you feel as if your entire world is behind that doorway. That despite all the freedoms Caleb has given you in this marriage (the financial freedom, ‘you can go anywhere you want’ , you can do whatever you wish, travel anywhere), your world had drastically shrank to the man sitting in the grey parlour, who wasn’t even facing you.
On other days, he wasn’t even there.
Gone to MC’s. Emergency.
….you weren’t exponentially surprised by the reason. Caleb frequently rushed to MC’s house to deal with her emergencies. At this point, you simply shrugged it off and continued on as you usually would. Only that when you went to the nursery to check on your daughter…
The crib was empty.
Your heart dropped. You had frantically dialled his number. No response. You racked your head for thousands of possibilities. Did someone take her? Did he mention he was taking her anywhere? Did he…did he take your child? Taking off with MC to a place where you’d never find him again? Did Caleb pack up and leave altogether? With your baby?
You told yourself it couldn’t be true. That he’d never do something like that. He wouldn’t. That Caleb is a good, kind man. But to what distances he would go for MC, you had no idea. All you knew was that you’d like it to be you instead of her.
Ten minutes later, you were banging the front door of MC’s house.
Surprisingly, it was her husband, Zayne, who answered.
“[name]? What are you doing here?” Zayne asked, surprised.
He didn’t even get to answer before you shoved past him, calling Caleb’s name.
“Caleb, Caleb?!” Your mind flashed with possibilities of where he could be. Maybe he was already gone. Maybe he took MC and drove up to the airport already. But surely not, his car was parked outside, and, and…
There he was. In MC’s backyard, sleeves rolled up, that stupid grin on his face as he…tacked a nail into a piece of plywood, MC hovering over him with a tray of lemonade. You stopped in your steps where the stone of the house met grass, calming down, as you watched your husband beam up at MC, sweat glistening down his muscular arms, droplets forming on his healthy skin, a damp V forming at the top of his t-shirt. Time seemed to slow as Caleb reached up, took a sparkling glass, smiling at MC gratefully, a smile so bright you’ve never seen in all those times you ever offered him something.
“Caleb!” You snapped, finally loud enough that he whipped his head around, MC too. “Caleb! Where’s our daughter—“
Before you could even hear his reply, a beaming MC gasped in delight and smothered you in a hug.
“[name]! You’re here too! That’s perfect, you should stay and have dinner! Ooh, I’ll tell Zayne to set an extra space at the table.” She spun around, shouting into the open patio doors. “ZAAAAAYNIIIIEEEEE?”
She talked at such a fast pace, you barely even got to get a word in on how you didn’t really want to stay for dinner, how you just wanted to demand where your daughter is and go home. In that moment, you didn’t even really care if your husband went home with you. But just as you opened your mouth…
“Aw, pips, there’s no need, I’m almost done with building this part already.”
MC pouted, that little, pathetic, faux-childish pout she always made at her dear gege.
“C’mon, Caleb, staying for dinner is the least you could do for me, after rushing over on such short notice to build Zachary’s treehouse.” She said, referring to hers and Zayne’s son. She turned to you and smiled, dropping her voice to a whisper, “Zayne is so useless when it comes to things like this, and my gege is the best!”
She turned back to Caleb. “And bringing your adorable little daughter too! I’ve been dying to meet her. You know I’ve asked you so many times already.”
You paused. “Wait a minute. You…asked Caleb to…to bring…”
“Yes!” MC replied, “I know she’s only a few months old, but all I’ve been asking Caleb is to let me meet my adorable niece!”
It was almost laughable. The ‘emergency’ that required Caleb’s immediate attention was the construction of a treehouse for MC’s son. You couldn’t help but wonder how many other of these such trips to her house that Caleb took were also something else, something less significant but labelled as an ‘emergency’.
You turned to Caleb, absolutely pissed.
“You. You took my daughter just like that? You took her without asking me?”
“I told you I was going to MC’s—“
“You didn’t tell me you were taking her!”
“I thought you would have assumed—“
Right. Like you should assume, like every other little bit of your marriage, you should have assumed that Caleb’s judgement was right. That your husband is doing his best for you. For this marriage. That you should assume every step he did, he was thinking of you first, and not MC. You should always assume. You’d be happier off that way.
But obviously, you were much more headstrong than Caleb let on. You were no longer the nervous blushing bride that had once optimistically stood by his side.
“You have no right to take her and tell me, her mother, to just assume anything about the safety of her own child.” You replied, in a tone that surprised Caleb so much, that he wasn’t sure how to reply.
MC, caught in the middle, immediately pushed in to diffuse the tension.
“Aw, don’t be like that, my sister-in-law.” She smiled, holding onto your arm. “Don’t blame Caleb, it’s my fault. I asked him to bring the baby.”
“No, no.” Caleb cut in, standing up and putting a hand onto MC’s shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself.”
He turned to you, frowning. “[name], I think we’ve just blown this way out of proportion. No one’s been hurt and you’re acting if I’ve kidnapped someone!”
“You know that’s not what I—“
“Come on.” Caleb gently took your hand, herding you towards the house. “Our daughter’s fine. She’s asleep upstairs.”
He led you past the living room, past the kitchen where a frazzled Zayne stood, wordlessly watching as Caleb led you up the staircase and into the nursery, familiar with the layout as if it was his own house, to where your daughter was sleeping peacefully in their son’s old crib.
“See?” Caleb sighed, “Nothing’s wrong. You got all worked up over nothing.”
You wanted to yell and him and tell him that this wasn’t nothing. That somehow ‘nothing’ always seemed to be associated with his behaviour with MC, and that none of what happened concerning MC in your marriage could just be swept under the rug like that. Maybe that’s how he preferred it, you thought bitterly.
“I want to go home.” Was your only reply.
Caleb’s shoulders slackened. “C’mon, let’s just stay for dinner…”
“I want. To go. Home.”
Your husband seemed to give up this case, and sighed. “Alright.” He replied, “Let me get my jacket.”
Suddenly, both of your heads turned, as you heard MC rap her hand against the nursery doorframe.
“Caleb…can I just speak with you for a second before you go…?”
You wanted to question if she had been lurking outside, listening, but Caleb cut in front of you.
“Of course.” He replied.
He took MC by her shoulder“We’ll just be a minute.” He called to you.
“You don’t mind, do you?” MC asked graciously.
“Sure.” You replied evenly. “I’ll just be in here. Come get me when you’re done, okay? I’ll dress our daughter to leave.”
You saw Caleb nod, before escorting MC down the stairs. You made sure they both saw you close the nursery door.
You mad good on your promise to stay in the nursery and dress your fussy little daughter (who was looking more like Caleb by the day). Five minutes later, gently creaking open the nursery door, you snuck outside, thinking they’d finished their conversation already. But you realised they hadn’t gone far. As you stood on the stairs with your back against the side of the wall, you could clearly hear Caleb and MC talking in the living room behind the staircase.
Their words made your heart beat out of your chest.
“Is your wife always so…uptight?” You heard MC mumble, her voice suddenly sultrier than before.
“No, she’s just…” You heard Caleb began.
I’m just what, Caleb?
“…she’s just emotional, that’s all.”
You heard MC snort. “Emotional? Hardly. I seem to remember that at your wedding, she was ever so meek and crittery, so nervous, so deferent, so grateful to marry the big strong colonel…” She sighed, “And I thought that, y’know, hey! She might do a lot of good for you. She’s like a squeaky mouse, just like another version of me, how I was your ‘pipsqueak’…” Her voice suddenly dropped to a whine.
“I thought maybe you found a better replacement.”
You heard sounds that indicated that Caleb stepped forwards to hug her.
“MC…nothing and nobody could ever replace you.” Caleb said gently.
They were silent for a long time. Wetness had began to gloss your eyes.
“Well…on that happy note…” MC mumbled, “I have some news for you.”
“Hm? What is it?”
“I’m…” She giggled, “I’m expecting.”
“You’re what?!” You heard Caleb exclaim.
“Shhhh! I said I’m expecting. I’m going to have another baby.” MC replied hushedly.
“Oh wow…congratulations!” Caleb laughed. “Guess I’m ready to be uncle to another mini-zayne, huh?”
MC let out a small happy sigh. “Not quite.”
“What do you mean? Do you think this baby’s going to look more like you, or—”
“No, no…”
A pause. MC gazed up at your husband, clasping his hands.
“Caleb…the baby is yours.”
…
You couldn’t bear to hear the rest of the conversation. You sprinted back up the stairs, going back into the darkness of the nursery. You hated yourself for it, but you couldn’t help but sob, sob over this marriage which you’ve always held hope to, this marriage which, admittedly, up to that moment you were still clinging onto the hope that things may turn to the better, that your fate might change, that this wasn’t all a mistake, that your marriage wasn’t just a helpless fantasy on your part…
But look at you now.
Crying on the floor of the house which belonged to the woman who your husband was obsessed with. Crying with a baby that was only born into the world to prove a point for your husband, to prove that he had moved on. Or worse, your poor baby daughter wasn’t even born to prove a point anymore, she had only served to prove a lie, a lie that was quickly unravelling at the hands of the man who demanded her existence.
Caleb…oh, Caleb.
Your tears stopped when you heard someone coming up the stairs. Immediately, you dried your eyes and stood up, trying to slow down your breaths and calm yourself down. You refused to face your husband like this. You refused to make a scene. Not now, anyway.
“Ready to go?” He asked, pushing the door open.
You didn’t turn for a second. In that moment, time seemed to stop.
Slowly, you turned to him, your daughter held tightly in your arms.
“Sure.” You smiled, “Let’s go home.”
…
Home. Such a funny word.
As you watched the glowing skyscrapers pass you in the passenger seat, you suddenly felt very calm. The air was wet from rain, and a cool summer breeze had began to sweep through the night. You thought you might feel rage, or resentment, but instead…all you felt was a strange sense of sereneness. You were disappointed at Caleb, sure, but not as surprised as you thought you’d feel.
Which felt worse than being angry.
You’d rather feel that rush of adrenaline, make a scene, throw something at his face and scream at him and cry and slap him, maybe, but no, no, all you felt was a churning pit of emptiness in the pits of your stomach. Your belly empty, while MC’s swelled with life. His life.
“What do you want to have for dinner when we get back home?” Caleb asked you, breaking the silence.
You shrugged, wondering when, or if that all, he was going to confirm for you what you had overheard.
“Don’t be like that.” He nudged you with a half smile, “You can pick anything. Anything at all to eat, it’s up to you.”
You didn’t want to eat with him. Even the thought of sitting at the same table, across him, made you feel sick. The thought of your mouth wrapping around the utensils that once touched his mouth, his mouth that once warmed MC’s tongue. Biting into food prepared by his hands, his hands that once traveled across MC’s naked skin. A sickening scene.
You didn’t want anything to do with him.
“I’d rather you decide.” Came your firm reply. “Since you seem to decide everything that goes on around here.”
Caleb sighed, a long heavy drag. “[name], I don’t know what you want me to tell you.” He spun the wheel, pulling into the familiar street. “So can we please just drop the attitude?”
“What attitude?” You asked, fluttering your lashes as often MC did when she wanted to appease her dearest gege, “I really don’t mind what we eat. Why would I?”
“[name].” He said more seriously, “Please. I don’t want a scene. Our baby’s asleep in the back and I’d really like to keep it that way.”
Right, so you’d be fine having an argument if our daughter wasn’t here. Speaking of children…
“MC’s looked glowing today, don’t you think?” You mentioned, sliding out of the passenger’s seat almost the second Caleb rolled the car into the driveway.
He shot you a strange look as he unlatched your daughter from her baby seat in the back. “Yes…she did. Why do you ask?”
You shrugged innocently, unlocking the front door, “Nothing, I just meant that motherhood agrees with her.”
Caleb said nothing in reply. You watched as he carried your daughter inside, not a muscle in his face giving away a single hint of suspicion or anxiety. You knew what kind of man your husband was. It wouldn’t be so easy to gauge out the truth from him, or any semblance of emotion he didn’t want to express for that matter. But you were expecting this.
“Do you think she’s going to have another one?” You said coquettishly, shrugging off your coat.
He couldn’t help it this time. You watched from behind as his shoulder twitched, ever so slightly, for not even half a second.
“I wouldn’t know.” Caleb replied, his tone ordinary, “I wouldn’t be surprised if she did. She and Zayne are a happy couple, after all.”
Your husband would have made a great actor, you thought humorlessly. You wondered if he was tearing himself apart inside.
“Actually.” You raised your hand, smiling. “I don’t want dinner.”
Caleb turned, cocking an eyebrow at you. “What? But you—”
“I’m not hungry anymore.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” You nodded, one foot on the stairs. “I’m going to bed early. It’s been a long day.”
“But it’s only—“
“Goodnight, Caleb.”
“…goodnight.”
…
Weeks had passed. You’ve continued to act as if nothing had gone wrong. Caleb went to work, came back from work, cooked, played with your baby girl (who was now crawling all over the place) and went to bed. The only aspect that he felt…off, about, was how pacified you acted now.
You didn’t pepper him with questions about his day anymore.
You weren’t there to ask if he was feeling alright the moment he came home.
You couldn’t even bring yourself to stand closer to him.
It was as if the marriage had undergone mitosis and split itself in two, as if the straining cell it had once been has finally pulled away from the other half. All that remained was two individuals, standing inches apart in the kitchen, sitting a meter away in the living room, sleeping in beds that felt miles away from each other at night.
Your scents didn’t even mingle together anymore. The air in your home felt stagnant. You were sure that if you hadn’t got used to it, if you weren’t you for a second and you had visited your current home for the first time, you would assume that there were no inhabitants in it at all.
You could imagine it now. The edge of the scissors pulling the winding umbilical cord into a taught triangular shape in the sterile air, about to snap shut, about to separate the two entities, mother snd baby, to deliver individuality and freedom to both…there just needed to be a little push. A little force. Just a little more, and you would be able to forever sever this rotting chord that ties you to this marriage .
Every day, Caleb would come home and wonder what changed your demeanor so much. And you’d wonder when your husband would grow the balls to tell you that MC is pregnant with his baby.
He didn’t on week one. Or two. Or three. Or four. And as you can guess…
He didn’t speak a word when MC posted a gender reveal (week 19) online, the cutting of the triple-tiered cake revealing flamingo-pink insides. Caleb liked that post, you saw.
He also didn’t mention a word when MC announced a baby shower (week 28), which you were also invited to (the gall. can you imagine the audacity?). You had acted perfectly amicable, presenting MC with a hug and a basket of gifts. Caleb had gone to congratulate Zayne. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony.
By the time the date hit 30 weeks after you overheard their conversation, you had had enough.
If Caleb was going to be a coward about it, then you would force him to confront the truth.
…
Week 34 was fast approaching. You knew a normal pregnancy would end at about 37 weeks to 40, so when Caleb, suddenly, in the middle of your morning shot up from his seat after answering a call, you were surprised.
“What’s wrong?” You asked.
“MC had th—her baby.”
“Already?” You hummed. “It’s a bit early, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Caleb gasped, practically sprinting to put on his jacket hanging by the bannister, “That’s why I need to go see her. Now.”
“No wait!” You stood up, grabbing his wrist. “I’m coming too.”
“No.” He replied. “You shouldn’t. Someone needs to stay home with our daughter. And I won’t be long.”
“No, no!” You chirped merrily, picking up your daughter from her high chair. “Let’s bring our baby. After all, she should get to know her new half-sister.”
You enjoyed watching the colour suddenly bleach from his face.
“What?” His tone was chilling, shaken, almost boyish.
“You heard me.” You fished out the car keys from the little ceramic dish near the front door. “Come on.“
“[name]—“
“I thought you were in a hurry to go.”
“[name].” Firmer, now.
“So let’s go.”
“[NAME]!” Caleb yelled. It was the first time he had yelled at you.
“What is it?” You blinked back.
Caleb’s eyes were bloodshot. His shoulders heaved.
“How long…have you knew?”
“I think the better question is, Caleb,” Your face, he thought, was frighteningly unreactive. “When were you planning on telling me?”
He threw his hands down, turning away from you. “I was going to tell you today. After the baby was born.”
“So you can force me to face the consequences of your actions? If I like it or not? Is that why?”
“No! Don’t put words in my mouth.” He faced you again. “I was going…I was going to…”
“To what?”
“To work something out.”
“And how was that going to end?”
“I—“
“I’ll tell you how that was going to end, Caleb Xia.” You stabbed your finger against his solid chest. “It would end in me having to make sacrifices. It would end up in me in pain, over and over again, just to cope with how you’ve decided to treat me! I will be the one at a loss while you, you will get what you’ve always wanted. Every decision you’ve made was never for me. It was always either for you or for MC! I don’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth when you tell me that you’ll ’work something out’. I know you’ll give me the short end of the straw. You already have, for every day we’ve been married. Yet you never realise, because of course in the end whatever happens would work out for you, because it always fucking does!”
“[name].” Caleb breathed, “Calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to—“
“I’ll be home as quick as I can.” He said, pulling on his shoes at the door. “And then we’ll settle this.”
You laughed.
“Oh, Caleb.”
You watched as he glanced at you from the corner of his eye.
“I’m sure you’ll find yourself right at home.” You said with a smile.
…
“Caleb, come quick!” MC giggled, waving her hand to usher him in. “I just sent Zaynie to go out to the cafe to buy me some lunch.”
Caleb looked over at the bassinet, where a tiny wriggly baby wrapped in white lay. His lips broke out into a smile, a little wider than when he had first met his daughter with you, before gently, very gently reaching into the blankets, prying them apart, to reveal the scrunched up face of his new daughter.
He instantly folded, a finger stroking her wrinkly cheeks.
“Hey there, sweetheart…” Caleb cooed, as the baby made an uncommitted sound.
She was tiny. Wrinkly. But to Caleb, she was one of the cutest things he’s ever seen. She was part of him, and part of MC, after all.
Caleb took an awed breath in, as she fluttered her eyelashes, opening her eyes to reveal…
Big, green eyes.
Her eyes were green.
A bright, mocking, hazel.
Just.
Like.
Her father’s.
Zayne.
…
“What the fuck?” Caleb spun to MC, “You said—“
“Well…” MC smiled devilishly, a telltale sign that she knew the entire time, “I assumed wrong, I guess.”
“But you told me it was from that one night when—“
“There’s no way I could have conceived her with you from just one night, compared to how many times I’ve fucked Zayne around the same time.” She noticed Caleb wince in uncomfort at the mention of her activities with her husband. “You were right. Aren’t you always, gege.”
“But—“
“Caleb, the baby isn’t yours.” MC snapped.
He stood by the beside, shellshocked.
She exhaled out of her nose, smoothing out her blankets. “There is no ‘but’ to it.”
Caleb let out an exasperated breath. “I can’t believe you lied to me. You lied to be about something this important!”
“I had to!” Suddenly, her voice turned an 180 and became a pitiful, little cry.
“Gege…I was trying to help you…you married [name] and seemed to be so upset all the time, so I had to think of a way to get you out of that marriage. And see, now…” She smiled, “She’s out of the picture and will never bother you again.”
“You don’t understand!” Caleb shook his wrist out of her grasp, “I would never have…have put [name] through all this if it wasn’t my child to begin with.“
“Come on, Cay, you’re just being selfish now.” MC picked at her nails, “It’s all for the best. You didn’t enjoy being married to her in the first place anyway. I can’t believe you went through all the trouble of having a kid with her just to prove that you were over me. You’re so pathetic, gege.” She chuckled.
Caleb felt as if he could not move. MC’s voice seemed to become a distant echo, until…
“Gege?”
He snapped back into reality. Caleb frantically began pulling on his jacket, turning his back to MC, his shallow breaths filling the room.
“Gege, don’t go.” She said softly, “It’s all for the best. You’ll still be an uncle to the baby. To our family. We’ll be together again, aren’t you happy about that?”
Caleb’s hand tightened on the door. He turned to look at MC, with the most hollow look in his eyes she’d ever seen him possess. Emptier even than the time she renounced him as her gege.
“No.” He replied curtly, pushing the door open.
“Caleb Xia.” MC barked. “Xia Yizhou!”
For the first time, Caleb didn’t look back to her.
…
Caleb wasn’t sure how many speed limits he broke while making his way home, but from the look of the bumper, he should be expecting a few tickets soon.
He was in a daze as he got out of the car, almost stumbling to the front door of the house, unlocking it.
He was ready. To apologise. To kneel before you and beg for forgiveness.
Anything at all.
To go back to the beginning. To make things right, as they should be between a husband and his wife.
To be a family. You, him and your precious baby, that you gave him.
He opened the door.
The house was silent.
Almost empty.
“[name]?” Caleb called out. “[name]? Where are you?”
A prickling feeling creeped up against his spine as Caleb made his way back into the kitchen, where you had the fight just before he left. The plates had been cleared away, leaving only a sticky note taped onto the table.
You finally got your dream. I hope you can be happier with MC and your family with her. It’s all for the best. Love, [name] :)
Caleb fell to his knees.
A choked cry echoed through the house.
What dream? What family?
What had he forsaken to chase after his selfish needs?
CW! female reader, chubby/plus-sized reader!, self-indulgent post, hurt-comfort, body image issues, suggestive content, body worship (Rafayel), mentions of committing murder (Sylus), maybe medical inaccuracies (Zayne), fluff galore, drabbles for each, mentions of stretchmarks (zayne & rafayel), fatshaming (Xavier & Sylus), pre-boom (Caleb), implications of an eating disorder (Caleb)
Summary! You've always felt bad about your body, in fact, hated it more than anything. How could you ever be good enough for him? You didn't need to ask or worry about any of that. He loved you just as you are, and will prove that to you no matter what.
XAVIER
"You need to lose some weight" had always been something you'd heard growing up. Then the societal standards of how you should look made you look at yourself, your body, in a negative light.
Spiraled this time because of a comment when you and Xavier went out for a date. For once, you felt like dressing in something that showed off your body.
Just when Xavier left to use the bathroom, you were subjected to those familiar words.
"You need to lose some weight, Missy. Especially for an outfit like that. You shouldn't even be wearing that..." You started to tune them out, or, well, trying to. Already found yourself trying to cover up your body with your arms. The person only found themselves trying to poke further.
Even mentioning Xavier.
"Looking like this? Don't you think he deserves someone skinnier?"
Tears pricked your eyes dangerously. You needed to hide it from Xavier. From not just worrying him, but also for the life of this person, despite the cruel words.
"Just leave me alone...." They eventually would. Found yourself in the corner waiting for Xavier. You felt so uncomfortable now. So conscious of how each curve and pudginess poked out.
What on earth made you so attractive to the man you called your boyfriend? The love your life?
When Xavier did come back, you asked him for the hoodie he wore.
"I'm just cold." It was spring, so it wasn't so strange that you asked. Like a bright puppy, Xavier gladly gave you his hoodie to wear. Although he was a little concerned watching you completely covering up the outfit you so proudly showed him.
He didn't want to believe you felt some bad feelings about your body.
For the entirety of the date you kept the hoodie on, even if the sun was out and making you feel warm.
Even if you were sweaty or hot you just kept the hoodie on to hide your body from the world. Even from Xavier. How could he love you when you looked like this?
He deserved better than you.
"Starlight, aren't you hot?"
"Xavi, you asked me that already!"
The heat was getting to you. The frown on Xavier's face made you sure your flock was falling.
Xavier softly sighed and grabbed your hand. "Hey, did something happen?"
He perked his head watching your expression turn into something he could only describe as panic.
"No."
"Starlight, i know when your lying."
Xavier smiled softly. His thumb caressed your knuckles gently.
"We can talk about it when we get home."
"Huh?" He dropped it right then, but then again you'd be alone with him. Face with taking off the hoodie in front of him to reveal a body you were less than happy with.
"Okay, sounds good."
You acted as if Xavier couldn't see the obvious strain in both your voice but also the tension in your entire body.
When you did get home it would be an understatement to say walked to the bathroom. No, you ran to it.
Xavier didn't say a thing and just followed you. Knocking on the door lightly.
"Starlight," he paused and sighing. "Come out of there. I want to see you."
From behind the door you pulled at the hoodie to reveal the outfit underneath. Just from sitting the pudginess poking out more than ever. Your mouth trembled in response.
"No! I can't." You broke easily for him. You could accept that he knew you weren't feeling okay.
"Can you tell me why?" Xavier's voice was softer than ever. No doubt his hand on the door awaiting for you to unlock the door so he could come in.
"Y'know," Xavier's voice made you know he was smiling. "I thought you were very pretty today. You looked so happy but when I got back from the bathroom you were upset."
He was frowning again. "Let me in please. To see you."
How could you refuse him when he asked like that? Curse his bunny-looking face.
Opening the door with the hoodie zipper up again. Xavier's face flickered with emotion.
"I-" Before you could utter another word Xavier's arms were around you with a firm grip. Speechless at his actions and even sooner his words.
"Your the most beautiful thing on this planet, no in this entire universe you are the most beautiful thing to ever exist."
"You can't possibly me that. Look at me-"
"I am looking." His fingers moved to the zipper and tugged it down. You made no movement to stop him. "And all I see is the darling Starlight that I love."
You broke down in tears, and he allowed you to settle your face inside his chest. Xavier held you dearly, like fragile glass, like you would go away.
"Don't listen to anyone else's opinions, not even mine. You're the most beautiful creature in this universe, and never forget that."
ZAYNE
It wasn't strange for Zayne to see you naked, not only your boyfriend but also your doctor.
Your own shame over your body persisted despite his words about how he looked was completely fine, but for you, it never would be.
Especially, when before sex, which you two planned tonight, you felt you couldn't now. Not with the new mark on your body that ruined everything. Making you feel more ugly than you already are.
A body part with a long stretch of skin that was stretched.
It looked utterly disgusting in your eyes.
The lingerie you chose to wear tonight feels so ugly to wear now. Soiled by your own body.
Tears were forming in your eyes, covering your mouth at the feeling in your throat, and burning in your eyes. Everything was blurry as you sat on the bathroom floor, crying silently.
Trying so hard to hide your cries from Zayne.
He didn't need to worry. This was on you, and he didn't deserve to see you when you looked like this. Zayne deserved better than this.
"Darling, are you alright? You've been in there for quite a while." Zayne knocked on the door gently. Even from behind the door, he could hear the way your voice hitched.
"May I come in?"
There was no point in keeping him out. He'd see your body anyway, no matter the circumstance. He's a doctor, he'd have to. You just let out a soft okay, stepping out of the way so he could enter the bathroom.
The door opened to reveal Zayne with worry evident in his eyes. He surveyed you and how you stood in the corner. His eyes tightened at the sight.
Your hands moved to hide the stretch mark on your body. Tears were brimming in your eyes and were threatening to spill out.
Nothing needed to be said for Zayne to get what was happening.
"Darling, come here." He opened a hand to you.
Rejection came with the swerve of your head. Your face deepened with disgust towards yourself. Such filth shouldn't be touched by someone so beautiful and graceful.
Zayne took a step forward. You let him and didn't avoid him.
Unexpectedly, he lowered himself onto his knees.
"Zayne, what are you doing? Get up!" Frantically, you pulled at his forearm, but he stood still like a marble statue.
"I will not. Not before I cherish and show just how much I love you, all of you." His arm wrapped around your thighs with firm fingers around flesh. His thumb was caressing the stretch mark so gently and sweetly.
Your voice hitched with an oncoming sob. "Zayne, stop. Please."
"That is one request I'll have to deny you, my dear." His cheek against your thigh, and once again, tracing the stretch mark with his finger.
"This is normal. You know that, don't you?" He spoke methodically. Zayne kept his grip and traced your skin. "These marks are normal, and to me they are the most gorgeous thing in the world to me."
Looking up at you with complete adortion in his eyes. A soft smile upon his lips, kissing your naked hipbone so sweetly, treating you like you were glass. Something beautiful to be taken care of.
"No matter how many times you forget that I'll remind you over and over."
Tears dropped from your eyes. Arms wrapped around his neck as Zayne stood up to embrace you into his arms. Kissing your forehead and stroking your back.
RAFAYEL
"Cutie! Are you done?" Rafayel called out loudly from his studio. Sounds of things being moved around in the studio for you to model for him.
He was the artist, and you were his muse, his inspiration.
In moments like this, you could never understand how on earth you could be his muse, his inspiration. Not when you looked like...well, you.
Rafayel had given you a form-fitting dress that was flowy and beautiful. Silky pink looked nice against your skin tone. It was a pretty dress. It's just that to you, it looked wrong on you.
You knew how Rafayel could be.
His eyes were smart in catching what he found was beautiful. In part, you felt his eyes may be lying to him when he looked at you. What about you was so beautiful to him? Surely those eyes of his were lying.
"Cutie?" His voice was more confused. His hand knocked against the door softly. "Does the dress not fit?"
"No," Your voice was shaky. "It fits fine."
Maybe too well.
To well that every insecurity was peaking out.
It was silent for a moment before a soft noise came closer to the bathroom door. "Cutie, what's wrong?"
Rafayel knocked on the door with his voice uncharacteristically soft and worried. It sounded off, and you didn't like it one bit.
"It's nothing.." Your eyes were beginning to well up with tears. You settled on the floor, holding the curves that showed through the silky dress.
"Baby, Cutie, come on, let me in." His voice was too soft for you.
You couldn't leave him out there when he sounded like that. Rafayel was too sweet for you to do that to him. So you unlocked the door hearing it click open. Sitting on the toilet lid with a somber expression.
Rafayel's expressed was down, but you saw how his eyes sparkled when finally laying eyes on you,
"Absolutely glamorous."
"Don't lie." Bitterly, you grumbled.
A loud noise followed; Rafayel falling to his knees and crawling to you. Almost immediately your face erupted with heat.
"What are you doing?!" You exclaimed as his fingers pushed onto your plush thighs and gripping. Kissing both of your knees sweetly.
"Worshipping my reason, my beautiful muse...and it's quite insulting you'd think I'd lie about finding you beautiful." Rafayel's cheek rubbed against your knee, pressing another kiss to it. "Utterly insulting, Cutie."
Your lips wobbled in response to his words.
"This part, and this..." Rafayel pointed to every curve and body part. On his knees giving a kiss to each part of naked skin. His hands curved over every part that was covered by silk.
"Look at me cutie."
Nervously you raised your head eyes meeting his.
"Does it look like I would ever lie to you, Cutie." In between your legs looking up at you like a goddess statue. "Never in my life would I ever do that to you."
"The eyes of Lemuria will always be able to see beauty, and one of the most beautiful things in the world is right in front of me."
Tears bursted out from your eyes. Rafayel kissed them away holding you in his lap on the bathroom floor. In that silk dress feeling his hands move throughout your body and up it.
Clinging to him and listening to his artistic words that only aimed to praise you like you were pretty pearls.
You've never felt so very loved in your life.
SYLUS
At an auction with him always brought the anxieties to you, always going down to your stomach and up to your throat.
If Sylus saw it he never mentioned it.
You knew he knew. In little ways he comforted you, like gripping your waist, or linking your fingers. A soft kiss to your forehead or rubbing small circles into your back.
It felt too good for you, as in Sylus was too good for you. Like a man like Sylus deserved someone that wasn't, well, you.
You felt like all eyes were on you.
"I'll be back, Kitten. This will just be a moment." Sylus patted your head softly before moving to a meeting room with other high standing officials, especially those who lived in the 109 Zone.
You were left alone by yourself in a crowd of people.
Sitting alone awaiting for him as to not feeling comfortable amongst these people who were way more confident, and in your words, more desirable than you.
"Are you sure you belong here?" A woman's voice spoke with inquiry and malice. A true look for a model she was. You weren't, because of course you weren't.
You didn't say a word. In your hand was Sylus's card and you just kept it to your person.
"I don't want to be rude, but I think that dress doesn't fit you. In fact, it's really fitted for someone with your...uh, stature."
You wish you could be a duck. A duck that lets things slip off your back, but it seems that won't happen, and it won't ever happen. You simply ignored her.
"Hey, listen when I'm talking to you." Your arm was pulled from the chair. A sound echoed in the darkness, but no one seemed to notice or care for the disturbance.
"Leave me alone!" You whisked her hand off your arm. The woman scoffed and pinched you. Glaring hard at the woman, just as she went grab a hold of your waist. Instincts called; hand going to the slit in your dress to acquire you gun.
Straight into her face.
"Get the hell away from me."
She listened, disturbance on her face, but none of that erased the swelling of anxiety and hurt in your tummy. Words running through your head wildly.
Luckily for you there was an outside area away from everyone. There was very few people out there, just two people very spaced out for you talking to one another. They made no distinction that they knew you were there.
You were left to sit on a marble bench, watching how your stomach was pushed out as you sat. Your tummy hurts at the sight. Hand still on that black card, shaking still.
Then you heard your phone ring. Shuffling out of your bag, you found Sylus texting you to ask where you were. You quickly texted him and went back to brooding.
It was a few more moments before hearing his heavy footsteps on the grass. You avoided eye contact with him finding the grass somehow more interesting.
"Sweetie," His voice deep and velvety, like it always is, "It's rather cold out here."
His jacket is on your shoulders. Sylus sat with you, and his gaze caught your arm. It looked swollen. He took hold of it gently.
"What happened, my sweetness?"
Leveling your gaze had told him it all. The way you positioned your body, angling it so he couldn't see how your body rolled. Sylus softly sighed, eyes hardened.
"Would you like me to get rid of the person who both hurt your skin, but also your heart? Putting all those thoughts into that pretty brain of yours." Sylus whispered into your ear. Thumb caressed the swollen skin gently, pressing a soft kiss to it.
"No, Sylus, you don't need to do that!"
"Hm, I ask you why, sweetie, especially when you look so distressed. No such thoughts about your person should wake in your mind." Right then, you found yourself in his lap. A small squeak erupted from your throat, seeing how his hands drifted across your waist and settling his open palms on your tummy.
Flushed hot on your cheeks. Sylus nuzzled his head into the back of your neck.
"Sweetie, do let me show you how much those people's words do not matter."
"Sylus, please, my body isn't-"
"Do listen to me. I'm a man who knows what he wants, and it's you that I want, Sweetie."
Tears erupted from your eyes. Body turned around to hug his neck. His warm hands rubbing up the skirt of your dress. A small noise came from your throat.
"Sylus, we're in public."
"Shush, sweetness. Let the world examine my choice and see the gem that I see."
Dear lord, you've felt loved in his arms. Crimson eyes watching everything look upon you and him. His glare was looking for the people who had scornful looks at you, but shied away because no one would dare to defy him.
CALEB
You've watched Caleb grow up into the man he is today. It made sense that Caleb was surrounded with people who were just as hot, and just as worthy as him. To have him that is.
You on the other hand, in your opinion, didn't deserve to be with Caleb.
With the way your body has developed you didn't feel worthy of a beauty that was Caleb. It didn't help that Caleb didn't waste his talent of cooking, because he loved doing so for you.
His very way of life, and that was taking care of you.
With him away, you were able to enact a way to make yourself worthy of him. However, you still ached for his cooking, him taking care of you. Whether or not you'd like to deny it, you enjoyed his touch and care.
And it being Caleb he always knew.
Grandma Josephine probably told him. She would see how you avoided food. Overworking yourself. Heart always in the possibility of overriding itself because of your carelessness.
Being Caleb he would always confront you with it.
"Pips, what's going on with you?"
His voice is soft when coming into your room. Place devoid of a mess, and you are sitting on the floor looking drained. You opened your mouth but Caleb beat you to saying anything.
"Don't try to hide from me, Pops. C'mon, tell me what's wrong." He sat with you on the floor. His eyes were full of worry. Large hand taking yours gently and holding it.
You couldn't hide anything from him, and most likely, Caleb wouldn't let this one go.
"Granny says you aren't eating. You need to eat Pips." His eyes sparkled in a way that told you he had an idea. Since growing and maturing into a young woman you've gained a certain perception of your body.
Even if you didn't say anything it didn't mean that Caleb didn't know.
Because of course he did.
You pulled your knees up and glared at the floor. "My body...it isn't pretty enough..." For you.
Caleb sighed before turning to his side and pulling you into him. Your breath hitched in response. Holding on to his clothes as his hands rubbed your shoulders, drawing small circles into your back.
"Baby," You shivered at that name. How long had it been since you two came to the conclusion of these feelings? How long would you two ignore them? "Don't say things like that."
His fingers overlapped with yours. The palms of his fingers gently pressed into your skin.
"Look at me."
You looked at him with hesitation. Caleb made no qualms about it and just went on the merry way of holding you. Thank the gods the door was closed. Who knows what Josephine would say with him holding you like this.
"Caleb, what are you doing?"
"Holding you."
"Hm."
You hummed to yourself. Indulging in his beloved touch like a puppy wanting to be noticed by its new owner. Hoping they are it's only owner.
"You're pretty, baby. So very pretty to me, Baby. It kills me that you think you aren't pretty. Can I show that you are?"
You nodded; you never could say no to him when he looked at you like that. You acted like a puppy. Right now, his eyes were literal puppy eyes. Like an anaconda he gripped tight onto you. His hands curving down every curve.
"I love touching you, Pips. Always."
You liked it when he touched you, too. But you'd never admit now, at least not yet.
"No matter where or who I'll always go for you. No matter what you look like, Pips. So please, eat."
theartofmadeline
snowghoul
baratheonpilled
pixelskylines
