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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.”

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?

He wasn’t happier. Not even a little.

Not at all.

Multi Characters

LADs Men Spoiling You

Making The LADS Men Jealous

How Do The LADS Men Help You During An Anxiety/Panic Attack?

cute texts with lads men 💗₊˚⋆୨୧🧸🎀♡

LADS Men Reacting to Ramadan

Telling LADS Men You're Pregnant

LADS Men Texting You After A Break Up

LADS Men & Their Love Quotes

Domestic Life With LADS Men

LADS Men and Their Short Hair Preferences

Would I Marry The LADS Men?

Accidentally Using Your Teacher Voice on LADS Men

LADS as Mythical Creatures

Jealous Yandere LADS Men

Caleb

For A Night

The Pursuit of Happiness

Domestic Life With Caleb

Hold Me

A Very Special Morning

To You, The Stars and The Moon

Your Touch

Sylus