I have said it before on many occasions but it's worth reminding people that Sylus is a WHORE. And I love it.
He gives major fuck you in the bathroom on the first date before dessert arrives energy.
Think about it.
In his vampire myth, this man was ten seconds in from meeting MC and had every single intention to kill her and he STILL made out with her. Zero memory who she is, ready to impale her to death after bleeding her dry and has the audacity to be like âhold on, give me a kiss real quick,â LMAO!
In his dragon myth when MC was sneaking him, and she started acting like she was trying to fuck cause she feels bored did you see the look on his face? He was down!
I'm convinced if it wasn't for her hating his guts on sight in main story, because despite that she does admit he is hot as fuck so I KNOW he would have taken her amnesia having ass to base and slutted her out regardless. All she had to do was say when.
Nobody can tell me otherwise.
Sylus is easy. And I love that about him.
Fake sleeping so he can get handcuffed to his bed wearing nothing but a silk robe.
Just stamp the words âFuck me wheneverâ on your forehead Onychinus leader cause we all see you're about that life.
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caleb and nonMC!reader in an loveless arranged marriage, where he's secretly in hopeless love with her
warnings. angst fest, eventual fluff, failing marriages, misunderstandings, suggestive content, jealousy, stalking/following, caleb getting rejected, reader in denial, feelings are hard
preview. "Why wouldn't I be romantic? I'm your husband." He's been doing that lately--dropping lines like that out of nowhere, like they're nothing. Somehow always when you're least prepared for it, and always with a lopsided grin that tells you he's either completely oblivious or knows exactly what he's doing. You're willing to bet on the latter.
wc. 7.4k
Your husband does not love you. He doesnât love anyone except for one, and it is not you.
You used to like romance. Youâd fantasize about who your beloved forever would be in your room, kicking your feet childishly at the thought of someone loving you so purely. So innocently. You wondered what kind of person theyâd be, what kinds of foods theyâd like, what their family is like. You wondered which holiday would be their favorite, whether theyâd want children, whether theyâd have a time-consuming job. But really, none of it mattered, because you only wanted someone by your side.
So when you were told youâd be put into an arranged marriage, you tried to be hopeful. An embarrassing, pathetic hope that maybe this man could love you the way men love in books and movies if you tried hard enough.
Caleb Xia is not a loving person. You realized this the moment he stepped into the room with cold, lifeless eyes that seemed to stare straight through you as if the wall was worth more than your presence. Heâd smiled, but it felt stiff. Awkward. But youâre sure yours was the same.
Still, his eyes were beautiful. Your hope flickered like a small stubborn flame in your chest that you wanted to guard against the blizzard. The marriage was simple. You showed up to the courthouse in a knee-length white dress, constantly adjusting at the pearls around your neck anxiously while he signed the papers. Once he was done, heâd simply slid it over to you, evidently avoiding your eyes.Â
âAre you sure?â youâd asked meekly, as if speaking any louder than a whisper would shatter your heart. You werenât sure if you were asking him or yourself. Not that it mattered, much.
He spared you a soft smile. Pity, maybe, with how his eyes remained empty, but you took it anyway.Â
A starved man does not beg for more. The flame remained.
The only reason he married you was because MC had gotten married to another childhood friend of theirs. When he mentioned it, you thought nothing of it at first. But when the only photo heâd put up throughout your entire house was one of him and her as children, while your awkwardly situated courthouse picture sat beside it, you knew. He didnât stop to stare at your photo, ever. Not any of the photos. Only hers.
The final blow to the puny flame remaining in your heart was when youâd finally initiated physical contact. To perform the marital duty, heâd hovered above you in just his pants while you stared up at him in your thin pajamas that did little to hide what was beneath it. There was no setting the mood. The air was cold, the room dull because only your half had any semblance of effort that had gone into decorating it. When he kissed you, it felt more like his lips were simply touching yours gently. Almost tapping it.Â
It felt like nothing.
This was not romantic at all.
âAre you okay? Is this okay?â he asked, pulling back with a furrow in his browsâprobably because you were lying lifelessly while holding your breath. You wondered how he could ask something so softly when his eyes remained so muted. Maybe not softly. Maybe just quiet.
âItâs okay.â You wanted to curl up and go to sleep, but he was the only semblance of warmth in the freezing room.
But when his hand slid up your shirt, resting atop of your stomach, you stopped breathing again. He stopped as well. Your gazes met silently, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. A dull, slow stop. And then suddenly, he was off you, clambering to pull his shirt back on as you sat up in confusion, eyes wide.
âI canât,â he muttered. âIâm sorry.â
The flame went out.
Were you really so distasteful? So disgusting that he didnât want to lay his hands on his own wife? Or was it that you were just too different from her? Should you be offended? Are you even offended? Relieved? Hurt?Â
Does it even matter?
Once you were sure heâs gone, you cried yourself to sleep.
The next few years are a blur that you wish had somehow gone even faster. The days are a bore. Heâs away for weeksâmaybe even monthsâat a time. In those periods of time, the house feels like a maze not meant for only one person. At the same time, maybe itâs better heâs away.
Caleb Xia is not a mean person. On paper, heâs a decent husband. He cleans, cooks, and never complains if you ask him to do something. He smiles, nods, and goes on his way. Yet, it feels more like a vaguely close roommate than a husband. The two of you eat in silence, watch TV in silence, and even go to bed in different rooms. You suppose you canât complainâitâs not like you put in much effort to get to know him well anyway.
The only thing he does that even comes close to romance is bringing you flowers. Youâd told him once that you wished the house had space for a garden to plant them, and heâd brought you a bouquet later that week. Since then, he brings them every few weeks routinely. They appear in the vase beside the couch as if theyâve just magically appeared.Â
Theyâre pretty, you think.
Resentment builds, slowly but surely, probably on both ends as in most marriages. This kind of life is killing you inside. This lonely, aimless life in a house that makes you feel like youâre the only person in the world, in a bed that feels too large.Â
âI want to work,â you say one day, picking at your food blankly. âI have an interview tomorrow, so I wonât be here for most of the day from now on if I get it.â
A fork clatters from across the table. âWhat? Why?â
You donât necessarily have to work given Calebâs plentiful paycheck, but you want to anyway because you canât stand being in that gigantic house all by yourself. But of course, how could you tell this to the man in front of you? The man you donât even know the favorite color of?
âItâs a regular office job.â
âI didnât ask what it was,â he blurts, eyes narrowing in concern. âIâm asking why? Do I not give you enough money? You know you have access to everything on the card, right?â
You shrug. âItâs not about the moneyâŠI just think I need something to do throughout the day.â
âWhat about picking up another hobby?â
âIâve exhausted most of them.â
âThen traveling?â
âBy myself?â you frown. âItâs not like youâre ever here.â
Youâre not sure why the words slip through your teeth, but they do, and the disdain is apparent. He seems surprised at first, blinking, before his shoulder slump again and the corners of his lips twitch downward. For some reason, it makes you feelâgood? Alive, more so. So you keep talking. âYouâre always working. You even missed my friendâs wedding after I told her weâd be there.â
He shoots back immediately, brows tight. âThat was a special caseâit was an emergency.â
âThatâs fine,â you chew slowly on your food. âBut I donât want to wait around all day for you to get back.â
âYou shouldnât work if you donât have to. I make more than enough.â
âAgain, not the point.â
His lips tighten, pursing. âWhat will your family think if they hear that Iâm making you work after I told them that Iâd take care of you?â
You snort. âIs this what you call âtaking care ofâ?â
Immediately, you can tell that youâve struck a nerve. And for some reason, it feels good again. Like youâre alive, again. Maybe you just like pissing him off. His expression shifts momentarily to something you canât recognize before it settles disapprovingly and silence befalls the both of you. You like when he doesnât have that stupid smile he always has. The fake, lifeless smile heâd given you when you first met. Youâd rather he just be upset, just like this. He looks like he wants to say something, but then shuts his mouth, swallowing the lump in his throat.Â
His phone rings, slicing the tension in the air like a knife. Caleb glances at the caller ID for a split second before heâs already on his feet, pacing to the sink to put his plates away in a hurry. âIâm sorry, I need to take this. Let me know how the interview goes..â
You stare at your plate, listening to his feet pad around in a hurry. âIs it MC?â
He whips his head around. âWhat?â
You stand from your seat to dump your food into the sink, ignoring the slight clench in your chest. Heâs always been this way. Jumping at any opportunity to be useful to her, while he leaves everyone else in the dust. âNevermind. Go.â
Once you hear the front door shut, you slump into the couch face first, hoping it swallows you whole before he comes back. This has to be some sort of humiliation ritual. Perhaps you committed a grave sin in your past life, because youâre not sure what you couldâve possibly done to warrant such a feeling. The sunset seeps through the window planes and hits half of your face, bathing you in a warmth that had been missing from the rest of the house. The heat makes you sleepy, and you soon find your eyelids drooping shut, gazing lazily at a photo of the two of you on the coffee table. You donât remember when it was taken, but in it, you genuinely look like youâre almost enjoying yourself. You canât tell with him, though. You can never really tell.
âStupid Xia,â you mutter as you fall deep into slumber.
When you awake again, the sun has fully set. Thereâs a blanket draped over you and when you blink away the blots in your vision, youâre met face to face with a fresh vase of flowers on the coffee table. They smell nice.
Damn it.Â
Sometimes, you wish he was just an asshole.
You learn about him through the photo albums he has stashed away in the attic. Itâs not like you were looking for them. Youâd only been cleaning when they managed to topple right into your hands, and since he always says whateverâs his is yours, you figure you might as well satisfy your curiosity. Thereâs less than you expected, unfortunately. Most photos are taken by him, but thereâs a few in between where heâs the subject. Him at his birthday party, his graduation ceremony, him packing for college, and the day he left for the DAA.Â
Itâs odd. You forget he was a normal teenager at one point, and not a high ranking colonel.
The pictures are through his eyes. Before you can stop, you find yourself becoming engrossed in lacing the photos together into some semblance of a story in your head. You see his childhood home and the model planes he enjoys building. His outings with MC and his grandmother. His last minute halloween costumes. Him and his friends carrying out a prank on someone. His studies. His likes. His dislikes.Â
Caleb Xia is a charming person. If you hadnât met the way you did, you think you mightâve liked him a little more.
When you ask him a question regarding one of the photos at dinner, he nearly chokes on his food. You quirk a brow in response. âWas I not supposed to see them?â
âNo, itâs fine if you lookâŠâ he mumbles, taking a sip of water to gather himself. You squintâare his ears pink? You didnât know he was capable of doing something kinda adorable. âItâs just a little embarrassing.â
âLike the picture of your airplane swim trunks from when you were a kidââ
He coughs again, and you snicker.
You think heâs tolerableâjust a bit.
Weeks pass. Life gets a little easier with your job and more to doâit might even be a bit fun. With your new friends at your workplace and a new sense of accomplishment, the less you stress about your loveless marriage and the more you appreciate what you have. Your interactions with Caleb become less forced. Not because youâve somehow managed to miraculously understand how his brain functions, but because you put less weight on what you say. Itâs hard to see someone as intimidating when youâve seen a photo of them in a stupid halloween costume. He seems to notice the change too.Â
[Caleb Xia]: I got us fried chicken for dinner. Donât be too late so it doesnât get cold :)
Your mouth waters. Itâs nice, almost. Emphasis on the almost.
Outside, the evening chill hits your cheeks, sharp enough to wake you up and wrap your jacket tighter around yourself. The street is busy but not crowded, as the sun has just set. A couple laughs too loudly across the road. Somewhere, a bus exhales.
You start down your usual route.
At first, itâs nothing. Just footsteps. Not out of place. People exist. People walk. People go home.
But somethingâs off. Your gut insists on it, and itâs hard to ignore.
You slow slightly, just enough to be subtle. The footsteps slow too.
Your fingers tighten around your bag.
Coincidence, surely.
You donât turn around, yet. Turning means you have to see something and acknowledge that itâs real. Instead, you adjust your pace again. Faster this time.
The footsteps quicken, dropping your heart to your stomach.Â
Your eyes dart around you anxiously. Itâs dark. Streetlamps are guiding your path home, and though the neighborhood is nice, itâs empty. Well, except for you and the footsteps that seemingly sound like theyâre getting ever so closer every few seconds. You throat feels dry.Â
Phone. You need to tell someone. Even if youâre wrongâeven if itâs just a hunch.
[You]: Still there?
[Caleb Xia]: Yea. why?
[You]: I think thereâs someone following me
Your message sends, and for a moment air doesnât enter your lungs.
The typing bubble appears. Disappears. Appears again.
[Caleb Xia]: Iâm coming.
You donât know how heâs going to find you, but you donât bother questioning it at the moment. You swallow, and your throat is dry enough that it hurts. The streetlamps cast long shadows across the pavement, and itâs hard to discern whether something is just a shadow or something else in the dark.
You donât turn around.
Your legs carry you as fast as you can go without breaking into a sprint, and your grip tightens around your phone until your fingers ache. Hurry, you think. Hurry up, Caleb.
A car passes.
Heâs closer now, whoever it is.
Your breath catches. Your shoulders tense, every instinct screaming at you to run, but your legs feel like theyâve forgotten how.
Suddenly, a car turns the corner too fast, tires kissing the curb before readjusting and you nearly jump out of your own skin. The tint on the car makes it too difficult to see inside, not that youâd be able to see much regardless due to the dark. It slows to a stop as it sees you, and you think if this isnât who youâre expecting, it might actually be the end for you.Â
The passenger door swings open.
âGet in.â
Relief floods your body when you hear his voice and you stumble to clamber in.
Relief?
This is Caleb Xia youâre talking about. Now that you think about it, youâre unsure why he was the first you contacted instead of the police. Your fingers had tapped on his profile faster than you could think. Was it just because he was at the top of your contacts? Was it because he was near? It must be, right? It had been instinctual. Your body had reactedâand it had somehow worked out.Â
Regardless, you canât possibly deny how relieved you feel right now.
You wonder if this is how MC always feels. It must be nice to know that someone so reliable is always at her beck and call, right? To come running at just a few wordsâmaybe she wouldnât have had to walk home in the first place. Maybe he wouldâve driven her. You feel sick. This isnât what you should be thinking about right now. Right now, you need to report it to the police and take a much needed nap.Â
A part of you is envious of her.
âYou shouldâve called me earlier.â
The chicken doesnât look as appetizing anymore even despite it sitting before you in all its crispy fried glory. The growling in your stomach from earlier is replaced by a slight pain, and itâs difficult to tell if youâve only lost your appetite or if itâs a different kind of anxiousness. He watches you from across the table with a perplexed frown while you pick at the chicken aimlessly, nodding blankly.
âIâll report it first thing in the morning,â Caleb sighs. âI should pick you up from work from now own. Or Iâll call you a taxi if I canât.â
You nod again.
âAre you okay?â
Ah, heâs asking that again. You hate when he does.
You tilt your head. âIâm just sort of in shock, I think.â
âI know, but you should eat at least a bit. Here.â He holds a piece of chicken on a fork to your face and you scrunch your nose. He smirks. âHere comes the airplane?â
âI might vomit all over you.â A half lie.
He replies instantly. âThen Iâll clean it. Eat.â
For a reason that you just attribute to exhaustion, you donât bother arguing. Instead, you pop it into your mouth, cheeks dusting pink at the intimacy of the act. He hums in approval and you try your best not to choke. Why was he feeding youâa grown woman? And why were you letting him?Â
How bizarre. This whole day is bizarre.
At least youâre homeâthanks to him.
âThank you,â you mumble softly. âFor getting there so fast.â
He looks almost offended, shaking his head. âDonât thank me, it was a given. Iâm just happy you thought to call me. I was worried you wouldnât.â
Why did you call him? Well, you suppose he is your husband at the end of the day. One who has eyes for another, but your husband nonetheless. âWhy wouldnât I?â
He stops for a moment, as if in thought, and then smiles sheepishly. Not the annoying fake smile he puts on for show, but one thatâs riddled with guilt. Shame. You want to know why. âJust assumed you wouldnât.â
Strangely, the words make your chest tight.
Your eyes meet his usual striking violets, shoulders slumping as you look away once the eye contact feels too intense. âIâm glad I did.â
You barely catch the tips of his ears turning pink.
Caleb keeps his word for the months following the event. You never have reason to pass by that street again on foot, and although you continue to insist itâs not necessary, having him as your private driver of sorts does feel kind of nice. You think eventually, youâve come to call him more than a stranger. Heâs easier to talk to. Funnier than you thought, actually, when heâs not being annoying to tease you.
Youâd never tell him that though, of course.
You blink warily, rubbing at your eyes with the back of your hand when a ray of sunlight escapes through the shades of your bedroom and hit your face. However, itâs not what awakes you. Rather, itâs the insistent buzzing of your phone on your bedside table, which you barely manage to snatch without falling off the edge of the bed.Â
[Caleb (husband)]: morning sleepinghead, you awake?
[Caleb (husband)]: Come eat breakfast :> made apple juice too
[Caleb (husband)]: I better hear you shuffling around in your room in the next few minutes or iâll have to come drag you out.. :)
Caleb Xia, you find, nags a lot.
âSleep well?â he chuckles when you finally emerge, still half-awake despite being fully dressed. You scratch the back of your neck, yawning as you perch yourself on one of the chairs at the counter where heâs standing with an apron tied neatly behind him. If you were just a tad bit more awake, youâd have a field day making a snide comment about it.
âMm.â
He laughs again, gently. Did he always sound so soft?
âYou can always quit your job, yâknow,â he shrugs, placing a plate of breakfast foods in front of you. It smells immaculate, as usual. âOfferâs always on the table.â
You shove a forkful of eggs into your mouth, squinting at him. âWhy do you wanth me shoo be unemployed sho bad? My parentsh donât care.â
âItâs not about your familyâŠIt just doesnât seem necessary.â
âI like working. Just not waking up so early.â
âI only want you to avoid overextending yourself if you donât have to,â he pops a tomato into his own mouth. âI make enough for you to get whatever you want, donât I?â
âBut I want my own money, too.â
âMy money is your money. This is the least I can do.â
âCareful,â you snort. âYou sound dangerously close to being romantic.â
He tilts his head. âWhy wouldnât I be romantic? Iâm your husband.â
This time, you really choke on your food, coughing as he quickly hands you the apple juice. Heâs been doing that latelyâdropping lines like that out of nowhere, like theyâre nothing. Somehow always when youâre least prepared for it, and always with a lopsided grin that tells you heâs either completely oblivious or knows exactly what heâs doing.
Youâre willing to bet on the latter.
Caleb Xia, as you figure out in the time you spend with him in his car on the way to work, has terrible taste in films.
âThat movie is awful. Thereâs no way thatâs your favorite.â
He gasps dramatically and you donât bother suppressing the urge to roll your eyes. âHey, donât judge before you try it.â
âIâd like it if I never had to try it, actually.â
The smile adorning your lips falls in an instant the car slows to a stop. You find yourself growing disappointed when you arrive at your workplace, because it means youâll have to leave him. You want to scold yourself for thinking such preposterous thoughts. What are you? A teenager whoâs hanging out with a boy for the first time?
Youâre married, for godâs sake.
Then again, so what if his company isnât so bad? What if you think heâs a bit more to you than tolerable? Isnât that allowed? Heâs your husband, after all. If it doesnât feel so bad, maybe you could let yourself reprise and enjoy it while it lasts.
âAh, right, I should tell youâIâll be leaving this weekend for work.â
Ah, nevermind. Reality has a way of slapping you across the face when you least expect it.
âHow long?â
âA few weeks at best,â he pauses, voice quieter. âMonths, if Iâm unlucky.â
You really despise the subtle aching in your chest.
You hate how easily it slips in. How, for a second, it makes the flame thatâs gone out years ago flicker, as if these moments could mean more than they do. They donât. You know they donât. They arenât yours to keep. None of it is.
The warmth, the ease, the way he looks at you like thisâlike youâre something he actually cares aboutâitâs all fake. Stolen. Youâre just standing in the space where someone else is supposed to be.
You press your lips together, forcing the feeling down before it can spread any further. Get a grip.
His palm pats the top of your head, making your cheeks heat against your will. With a grin, he nods. But itâs stiff. The slight crinkle between his brows. Upset. Upset? âIâll see you tonight.â
Itâs like he knows what youâre thinking before you know yourself.
âWho said I want to?â
âYou wound me.â
As soon as you enter the building, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket.
[Caleb (husband)]: I know youâre at work, butâŠ
[Caleb (husband)]: Movie night tn ?? i can make us popcorn :D
[Caleb (husband)]: And yes weâre watching my fav so you can stop calling it bad :>
[Caleb (husband)]: Last hurrah before i leave
This is dangerous, you think. Really, really dangerous.Â
You seriously hope you donât fall for him, if it isnât too late already.
A few hours later, the living room is dimly lit with soft lights, the low hum of something playing in the background as Caleb sets everything up. The bowl of popcorn ends up a little too full, a few pieces spilling onto the counter as he carries it over, muttering something under his breath as he munches on the ones that are about to spill over. You sink into the couch, watching him move around the roomâadjusting the volume and flipping through options heâs already decided on.Â
Itâs strange, how easy it feels. How normal.
You donât realize youâre staring until he glances over.
So you look away quickly, fixing your gaze on the screen. But a few seconds pass, and you can feel his attention still lingering.
You pretend not to notice.
What are you doing? What are either of you doing?
You donât say anything, swallowing the question down into the pit in your stomach.
The movie stars a side character with a passionate devotion to his family, who reminds you of Caleb. Oddly enough, the resemblance is almost uncanny. You kind of want to root for him but also want him to lose terribly. You huff quietly. âHeâs so intense.â
Caleb glances over, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. âWhat? You wouldnât want someone like that?â
You tilt your head, pretending to think. âI mean⊠heâs a bit much.â
A pause.
ââŠbut it comes from a good place. I like him.â
He stills.
You pick at a piece of popcorn, rolling it between your fingers. âHe reminds me of you a little.â
âYeah?â
You shrug, still not quite looking at him. âYeah.â A small breath escapes you before you can stop it. âMC is really lucky to have you.â
He goes quiet. When you glance over, heâs already looking at you.
ââŠLucky,â he repeats, almost to himself.
You hesitate, then ruin it by saying more. "I mean, you're always there for her, you know? If she calls, you come running. Everyone wants someone like that."
It was supposed to come off lightheartedly, but it only digs the hole deeper.
Something in his expression shifts. His smile fades, his face losing its usual ease as it drops to something youâve never seen on him before. It contorts in phases. Surprise, and then confusion, and finally into one you prefer the least.
Panic. Something is wrong.
You wish youâd just shut up. The long pause makes you wish you were just a fly on the wall right now.
âIs this why?â he blinks, and his eyes glisten with something you havenât seen from him. Void of the usual emptiness but replaced with something fuller. Heavier. âIs this why you hate me so much? Because of MC?â
Huh?
âFuck,â one hand pulls at the roots of his hair, his top teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he attempts to hide his face from you. âIâm a moron. I shouldâve known.â
What? Despite your hands growing clammy, you feel cold. Like the blood is draining from your face.
âYou must hate me so much.â
When did you ever hate him? Youâve loathed him, certainly, when heâd disappear for weeks on end leaving you all alone in this cold, lifeless house. Youâve wanted to punch your balled up fists into his chest, knowing that it wouldnât phase him in the slightest simply to alleviate some of your own anger. Youâve wanted to run away a multitude of times. But hate? Have you ever hated Caleb? Can you hate Caleb?
âCaleb.â
âThis is my fault. I shouldâve been more aware. Itâs so obvious now, I feel like an idiot.â
âCaleb.â
âI thought you just hated me because this isnât a marriage you wanted,â his voice cracks, and heâs burying his face into his palms. âI thought staying away from you was what you wanted. Shit, Iâm so stupid.â
âCaleb,â you say, more firmly this time, and he finally looks at you. Thereâs a watery film over his usually lifeless eyes, glistening against the light of the TV screen, and it makes the pit in your stomach grow deeper. You donât like seeing him like this. You thought you would, but you donât.
His voice is a mere whisper now. He looks like he wants to vomit out a million words at once, but thereâs three specific ones that linger on his tongue. Is this what they call a woman's intuition? Youâre not sure how, but in the moment, it feels like youâre in his head. For the first time in the 4 years youâve been wed to Caleb Xia, you feel like you can understand him.Â
A victory that doesnât feel like one at all.
âListen to me,â he grabs your hands in his, holding them in front of his chest. âI donât love herânot as a woman. I havenât in a long time. She and Zayne are like my family, and Iâd be a terrible person not to be happy for them. Iâm sorry I didnât make it clear to you. Iâm so sorry.â
Your heart doesnât seem to be beating anymore.
The air is too thick. Like liquid entering your lungs.
Caleb opens his mouth and then shuts it again, his words stuck in the back of his throat. Youâre not sure if you want to hear what he wants to say. The words hold too much value, too many years of hurt, and you donât know how youâll react. You donât want to acknowledge any of this as real, because if it is, what was all of this for? What were the years you spent holed up in your room meant to achieve? Were you just being a fool? And in that case, would you even want to know?
No. You donât.
So instead, you kiss him.
A wordless, messy kiss. Though heâs taken aback at first, heâs quick to slot his mouth against yours eagerly, hands flying to your waist to pull you closer as if a man starved. Itâs desperate. Different from the kiss you shared with him at the courthouse, or for transactional purposes. His mouth feels hot against yours, and when his tongue swipes against your lip, you let him in.Â
You climb onto his lap, straddling him as he presses you flush against him. The movie is long forgotten. His hair weeds through the crevices between your fingers and he deepens the kiss as if heâs trying to physically become one with you. His heart hammers against your own like a timer, warning you of what this could mean, but you donât care.
âPut your arms around my neck,â he mumbles against you, and then youâre suddenly being lifted up to your room with his hands supporting your thighs around his waist. But even those few seconds arenât worth staying apart for, because heâs kissing your neck, mouthing at spots that have you pursing your lips to avoid making any embarrassing sounds. He lets you down gently onto the middle of your bed and follows suit, pushing you onto your back.
Youâre here again.
Heâs looming over you, face flushed in a deep red this time. Heâll ask if youâre okay. If this is okay. And then heâll take off his shirt and his hand will slide up yours. Itâll be better this time, because itâs not out of some twisted sense of duty. Desire pulses at your core, but you canât help but shake off this curdling feeling in your chest, as if you want to hurl. You wait for what you expect, eyes never leaving his.
Instead, he breathes sharply. âI love you.â
The world stops.Â
âYou donât have to say anything back that I donât deserve. I just want you to know,â he whispers.
Can anyone love someone like youâmuch less, your husband? You start breathing again because you have to, staring up at him as if heâs gone insane. In fact, you think youâve gone insane. Kissing him, lying beneath him, enjoying his presence, looking forward to his breakfasts, letting him drop you off at work, feeling disappointed that heâs leavingâyouâve most definitely died and come back as another person, because this is not you.
This is Caleb Xia. He is an unloving person. He cannot love. But what happens if he does? With tears stinging at his eyes, watching you with a mix of pure adoration and sorrow, heâs telling you he loves you. Love is a strong word, isnât it? But he means it. He loves you. Caleb loves you. You want to call him a liar, but heâs not.
You want to cry into his chest and run away at the same time.
The flame flickers, and you panic. Not because you despise him, or because his confession is one you donât want to accept, but because this flame is not one you welcome with open arms anymore. Itâs too easy to hurt. Too easy to shrink, yet somehow impossible to destroy.
âI canât,â you croak. âNot right now.â
Even Caleb canât mask the hurt that deepens his frown, as if youâve torn his heart straight from his chest. For a man with so much power, heâs never looked more powerless than he does now.
It feels too vulnerable. Open. As if youâre naked and heâs fully clothed, when itâs infact the exact opposite. You donât want to open up to him again. You donât want him to snuff out that small flame you have that never seems to go out no matter how much you douse it in water. Or maybe you do?
He forces a crooked smile, strained against his very will and nods before leaving the room. As the door slips shut, he doesnât turn to look at you. âSleep tight.â
You donât get much sleep that night at all.
Morning comes anyway.
And then another.
And another.
His absence returns, but this time because youâre the one avoiding him. You leave earlier than usual, linger longer at work, find excuses in the smallest thingsâemails, errands, anything that keeps you just a little out of sync with him. When you do cross paths, itâs brief. Polite. A short good morning or a quick goodnight. Itâs easier that way.
You tell yourself this is what you wantedâto put distance back where it belongs. Whatever that night was, whatever flame flickered between you, it will fade. It must fade.
He isnât yours. Even if he says he is, thereâs too much pain--too many years of resentment built up that you donât know what to do with.
You catch yourself thinking about it at mundane timesâstanding in line, walking home, staring at your coworkers chatting amongst themselves. The apartment feels different already, like itâs preparing to be emptier. As cold as it was a few months ago, when he was still Caleb Xia, and not just Caleb.
You take the time away from him to reset. To think, but not too much. You find yourself flipping through his photo albums again, smiling when you flip to a particularly embarrassing one. You hear him shuffling outside your room, probably packing for his business trip. Youâre aware of what he risks everytime he disappears for weeks at a timeânot only his life, but the lives of his menâand you donât know how he bears to leave home everytime he does.Â
But he always comes back. He has to.Â
You suppose itâs for the best for now. And when he returns, things will return to normal. The house wonât be as awkward as it is. The two of you will slip into your usual routine of a loveless marriage, and youâll find other avenues in life to derive joy from. So will he.
The front door shuts faster than you anticipated.Â
Heâs gone.
This is fine.
This is what you wanted.
The house is empty again. You pace to the living room, and surprisingly, a fresh bouquet of flowers is propped inside their usual vase. You lift the vase into your hands, letting the scent of the flowers waft into your nose. They smell good. New. Sort of like the detergent he uses when doing the laundry.
You set the vase back down, nails pressing faint crescents into your skin.
His face when you last saw him keeps flickering in your mind. So much hurt. Raw with fear.
âI love you.â
You want to tell him he doesnât. You want to remind yourself that this is your husband. Your heartless, cunning husband who kills people for a livingâwho doesnât care about anyone but his family.Â
But youâre his family, arenât you?
You can still smell his cologne in the air.
You mustâve missed it from the glint of the sunlight in the glass coffee tableâthereâs a small shimmer of something sitting beside the vase. With a quirked brow, you pick it up. He usually never leaves trash lying around.
You nearly drop it.
His wedding band.
Your breath stutters, sharp and uneven, like your lungs have forgotten how to work. Your heart pounds as you realize that you're shaking, eyes wide as saucers as you stare at the object in your hands.
No.
He wouldnât. He wouldnât just leave it.
The ring sits in your palm like a brick that weighs your entire body down. This isnât something you can pretend will reset when he comes back.
This means no more quiet dinners. No more stupid arguments over movies he insists are good. No more messages waiting for you when youâre at work. No more him, standing at the counter every morning with a pan in his hand. No more him.
And worst of all, no more chance to fix it. To tell him your side of the story.
Your body moves before your mind catches up.
You wrench the front door open, not bothering to lock it behind you as your feet hit the pavement with just your socks. The air burns your throat as you run, lungs screaming, heart still pounding like itâs trying to break through your ribcage.
He canât leave.
The stinging beneath your feet go unregistered as you clutch the ring so tightly that it feels like it might dig into your flesh.Â
Just forward, you hiss to yourself. Faster. You turn corner after corner, your body begging you to stop overexerting yourself, but you canât bother to care. You donât even register where youâre going, but you need to go somewhere. It feels like ages and seconds at the same time, as you beg nobody in particular for one more chance.
A chance for what, you're not sure.
Reconciliation? Love? Understanding?
Is any of that possible? And if not, why are you running like your very life depends on it?
The ring digs further into your skin, and you realize it doesn't matter as long as you find who it belongs to. Him. Caleb. The reason and bane of your existence, and apparently what has you running across the entire town in hopes of bringing him back.
Finally, you slam into something solid.
The impact knocks the breath out of you, your grip loosening as the ring nearly slips from your fingers. A hand catches your arms before you can stumble back too far, steadying you with a familiar scent that somehow lets you breathe again.
âHeyâwatch itâoh.â
You freeze in place, breath hitching as you look up. Standing right in front of you, he appears slightly disheveled, one hand still gripping your arm while the other awkwardly balances a paper bag of groceries. Caleb blinks, his eyes immediately scanning over your frame before landing on your feet. âWhy are you here? Are you okay? And where are your shoes, itâs dangerouââ
âDonât go, Caleb,â you sniffle, tears already stinging at your eyes as your body finally has a chance to rest, though it doesnât feel much better. âPlease donât go.â
He stares at you as if you've grown a third eye, nearly dropping his bag of groceries at your pleas. Even the tips of his ears turn red, flustered. "What are you--"
âWhy did you leave the ring? Did you lie?â About loving me?
His expression falls, attention honing in on the ring gripped in your fist. Something seems to click in his head, and immediately, he shakes his head. âNo, of course not, I was going to leave a note. I just went out to get groceries before I leftââ
âSo you were going to leave the ring?â
âWell, yes, but can weââ
âDo you not like me anymore?â you blurt, finger bunching at the fabric of his sleeve. âIs it because I ignored you for a week?â
He almost looks offended. âOf course I still like you.â
âThen why?â
His voice softens, as if speaking too loud will scare you away. Hesitantly, he sheepishly releases your arms. Instead, he slowly takes your hand in his, lips pursing as he sighs. His palm feels rough with calluses from the work he does, but light as feathers against your skin. His touch is gentle, as if youâre the most precious thing in the world. âI figured there was no reason for me to tie you to me anymore. I wonât force you to be with someone you canât even stand to be around. Someone you hate. Itâd be selfish.â
Your words tumble out before you can process them. âI donât hate you.â
Finally, with your hand in his, the world feels okay again. This feeling tells you youâre screwed, but you donât care.
âIâve been mad at you, and I donât know what to do with your feelings because they make no sense, but I donât hate you,â you mutter. âYouâre just too confusing.â
â...Confusing?â
âI justâI donât know what to do, Caleb,â you wipe vigorously at your eyes with your free hand, head falling to avoid looking him at him. âI donât know what to think about you. How to feel about you.â
His eyes ease, and you feel him squeeze your fingers. âDo you want me to leave?â
âNo.â
âDo you love me?â
âI donât know.â
Caleb has always been better at reading you than yourself. A flash of hurt ripples across his face, but his eyes maintain its soft glimmerâbecause he knows. Even if you say you donât know, he knows. He also knows that youâre afraid of those words, and he doesnât blame you for it.
So instead, he asks something else. âWhat am I to you?â
You want to call him a million things. The man who left you by yourself, the man who refused to touch you for so many years, the man whoâd chosen to sleep in the guest bedroom just to avoid taking up space in yours. Heâs felt awful, inconsiderate, and cold. But heâs also the man whoâs gotten you flowers, the man whoâd break four speeding laws to make you feel safe, the man who makes sure youâre never hungry, the man who folds your laundry neatly and organizes it color-coded in your closet. The man who you wish you could slap across the face and hold close to you at the same time. The man whoâs made you feel alone yet so cared for all at once.
You like him, you think. In some strange way thatâs never been covered in the romantic films you used to clutch onto like a life line, you like him. The âLâ word teeters on the tip of your tongue like a marble rolling around to decide what these emotions settling in your heart really are, but it doesnât really matter. All you know is that you need him. You want him. You want him to hold your face and kiss you tenderly, like he did that night. You want him to do it again and again until you canât breathe, and all you can feel is him. You want to eat dinner with him every night and wake up in the morning to his stupid apron. You want to go grocery shopping with him. You want to fall asleep watching a movie in his arms.
âWhat am I to you?â
Tears fall down your cheeks in fat globs and you try your hardest not to let your voice crack. âMy husband.â
His eyes widen for a moment, and then his lips split into a wide grin that resembles the lovesick expression of a teenage boy whoâs holding hands for the first time. Caleb drops his grocery bag to his feet and reaches either hands to the sides of your face, cradling you gingerly as he guides you closer. Before youâre even registering it, he brushes a strand of hair out of your forehead and presses a soft but firm kiss to your temple, where you can feel him smile against your skin.
âWho am I to say no my wife?â
Your marriage is a messy, complicated jumble of emotions. The confusion. The fear. The warmth. Itâs not perfect. It never will be. And despite it all, you donât want it any other way, because Caleb Xia is a loving person.
taglist. @inzanekillian @someonestopsoren @sweetieelilii @3rdslide2heaven @gabburabbu @moltensceptergambit @cherrysherryblossom @younbeanz @txtworlddom @glitterykingdomheart @applebrat9 @ephemeraleb @cherrybomb5000 @chartreuxxlikesboba @corvusmemoriae @toorulee @ilovecoffe8 @cordidy @younghideoutberserker @yesbiaswrecked @madnesslusy @bypanana @noosummert @littleappleorchard @anyeeyna @xie-hua (I apologize if I didn't add you! I always struggle with tagging on tumblr lol!)
A/n: Heâs got an unhealthy amount of obsession with your tail⊠đŁČâ áą. .áąâ
Pairing: Caleb x Bunnygirl!Reader â 18+
SFW:
Messes with your bunny tail a lot. Loves to give it a soft squeeze whenever youâre least expectingâwhile he walks past, while youâre lounging around the house, or even while youâre in the shower (he sneaks into the bathroom and gives you a fright).Â
As long as your tail is within view, Calebâs reaching over to cup a handful. (And itâll always be within his sights⊠as if heâd ever take his eyes off you, silly bunny.)
Itâs mostly to annoy you, he loves that your tailâs sensitive and that it incites such a reaction. Heâd never be too rough with you though. Itâs never to hurt, only to tease. But sometimes he treats it as a stress toy.
Loves having you sit in his lap, chest to chest, legs around his waist. He squeezes and fondles your tail with one hand, while he occupies himself doing fleet work with the other.Â
Clicks his tongue when you eventually get bored/stiff and shift in your seat, telling you to âBe good fâme, just a little longer.âÂ
Tugs on your ears and tail when he wants to get your attention. Heâll apologise when you nip at his fingers angrily, but heâs back to being a nuisance within the hour.Â
NSFW:
Gets you a carrot vibe (he doesnât care that itâs a little too on the nose). At first itâs just for fun, but the more he uses it on you, the more his carrot-themed collection grows. (If you look like youâre enjoying the toys too much though, he gets jealous.)
We know Calebâs an eater, he could stay between your thighs forever if youâd just let him. But while heâs down there, he also loves to kiss where your tail meets your lower back <3
Calls you his sweet bunny while youâre getting fucked silly. When heâs about to cum, heâll use your ears to pull your face close to his, so he can kiss you.
In general, I think that Caleb has a sort of predator/prey kink. He loves tracking and hunting you down⊠you being a bunny girl intensifies that by tenfold. Would bring you somewhere secluded, giving you a head start to run off⊠but even with your heightened bunny senses, you never seem to see him coming.Â
Same goes with his breeding kink. On a normal (human) basis he already loves filling you up and keeping you full of his cum, but as a bunny girl? Heâs crazy about breeding you.
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Imagine the transfer should have been temporary, that was what Caleb told you six months ago when the reassignment orders first arrived. "Just a different unit." He reassured you softly while standing in your kitchen. "I'll still come home." Home, not your apartment. Home. Because Caleb started calling your place home long before you even got engaged.
Imagine he kept that promised too. No matter how brutal the new schedule became, he still drove back to the city whenever he could. Sometimes arriving past midnight exhuasted out of his mind only to leave again before sunrise. You used to scold him for it constantly. "You need sleep." "I need you more." Ridiculous man. Ridiculously sincere man. That was the problem. Caleb loved you too honestly for this situation to make sense. Which is why the past week had been slowly driving him insane.
Imagine the operation had reached critical stage faster than expected. Months of investigation finally narrowed into something tangible. Dead fleet officers, missing intel, internal corruption, targeted executions disguisedas accidents. At first the unit suspected isolated incidents. Then patterns started emerging. Officers connected to specific classified transport routes kept dying one after another. Some vanished entirely, others were found dead before they could testify. The newest victim finally gave them a lead. A newly married fleet officer murdered in his own home, except his wife survived, barely. She escaped before the shooter fnished clearing the house.
Imagine now she was their only living witness. Which meant she was also a walking target. The problem? The leak was internal. Someone inside the fleet kept feeding information outward. Meaning, nowhere offical was safe. No military housing, no secure holding facilities, no predictable movement. So the witness got moved constantly between trusted personnel, including Caleb.
Imagine he hated it immediately. Not because of the responsibility, but because of you. Because suddenly, the operation stopped being dangerous only for him. Now there was possibility of collateral. And the moment collateral became possible, Caleb's entire perspective changed violently. You became the center of every tactical decision in his head. Could this route expose you? Could this operation lead people toward your apartment? Could someone follow him back home? Could someone use you against him? That last thought alone nearly made him sick.
so Imagine, he started pulling away slightly, not enough for you to notice fully. He tried so hard not to. God, he tried. Because Caleb physically didn't know how to function properly without you anymore. You were woven too deeply into his life, routine, and sanity. After brutal shifts, hearing your voice grunded him. Sleeping beside you kept him human somehow. You were the only place where Colonel Caleb stoppped existing. Where he could just be your fiance instead of someone constantly responsible for life and death.
but Imagine lately, the pressure became unbearable. Every move mattered, every mistake could get people killed. And Caleb was good under pressure, exeptionally good. But not when it involved you. Never you. So yes, he became distaracted. Quieter sometimes, checking his surroundings more often, sleeping lighter, watching doors automatically. You noticed, of course you noticed. You noticed everything about him too. And Caleb hated himself every single time he saw concern flicker across your face before you smiled anyway and kissed him like you trusted him completely. Because you did trust him. That trust became the knife slowly twisting inside his chest all week.
Imagine then tonight happened and everything finally exploded. The witness was sitting quietly in the kitchen when Caleb stepped into the shower. He planned to finished paperwork afterwards then drive back to the city to see you. He missed you so badly it physically ached. The past few days had been hell. He needed you. Needed your voice. Needed your hand in his hair while he pretended the world wasn't collapsing round him. Instead the bathroom door opened and Caleb walked straight into his worst fucking nightmare.
Imagine the way you stood frozen inside his apartment staring at the witness like your entire world had just been ripped out from under you. And fuck, the look on your face. Shock first, then confusion, then heartbreak. Real heartbreak and Caleb felt actual panic slam through him instantly. Not suspicion, not irritation. Panic. Because immediately, he understood exactly what this looked like. The witness was wearing his shirt. Fresh marks still on the witness neck from injuries sustained during the attack days ago. The apartment looked lived in, intimate, domestic. And Caleb himself just walked out looking comfortable as hell inside the environment. Fuck.
"Baby-" Then your expression changed. And Caleb's stomach dropped violently because he recognized it instantly. That look, the moment someone stops feeling safe. You ran. And everything inside him snapped. "Baby!" He sprinted after you immediately, not caring about protocol, not caring about surveillance risks. Because nothing mattered except stopping you before this misunderstanding destroyed everything.
Imagine the apartment hallway blurred around him. Then came a movement, tiny, brief. A red laser dot flickered against the far wall behind you. Gone immediately but Caleb say it. Years of training wired his brain too sharply not to. And suddenly all the blood drained from his body. No. No no no no. They found the apartment. The operation was comprimised. And worst of all, you were here. Exposed, visible, vulnerable. For one horrifying second, Caleb imagined the laser moving slightly upward. Straight to your head. And his chest nearly fucking stopped.
"Baby wait!" You kept running, crying. Completely unaware someone potentially had a scope trained on your body right now. Caleb caught your wrist at the parking lot. Then you hit him, hard. The impact split skin across his cheek instantly. His head snapped across his face. He barely regustered it. Because you looked shattered. And Caleb realized with horrifying clarity, you genuinely thought he betrayed you. "Listen to me." He said immediately, breathing hard. "That's not what it looked like." "Then what is it?" He opened his mouth but nothing came out. Because his brain was screaming too many things at once.
Imagine there was the witness, the leak, the fucking laser. Get her out of here. Protect her. Then your voice cracked. "What is it, Caleb?" God, you looked desperate. Not angry yet, just desperate. Like you were begging him to give you something, anything, that would make this make sense. And that almost destroyed him more than the slap because even now, you still wanted to believe him. You still trsuted him enough to ask explanation instead of immediately condeming him. That trsut fucking wrecked him. Because he loved you. Loved you so much it bordered on insanity sometimes.
and Imagine now he was standing here watching that love get twisted into pain because of a mission he couddn't explain. "Tell me." He looked at your face. Then beyond you. The laser flickered briefly again against your car window. Cold rage exploded through him instantly. They were sending a message. Talk. Talk and she dies first. Caleb understood that perfectly. And suddenly, something terrifying woke up inside him. Not fear but murderous rage. Because these people weren't just threatening him anymore. They were threatening you. Using you. Cornering him into hurting you himself.
"Tell me!" You begged now, tears falling harder. "Because right now it looked like you've been lying to my face for weeks hiding another woman in your apartment." Every word hit like a bullet. Because on your perspective? You were right. You had every right to think that. And Caleb hated himself for putting you in this position. "It's not like that." "Then explain it!" "I can't." The second those words left his mouth, he regretted them.
Imagine the way your face collapsed completely. Not dramatic, not explosive, worse. It was quiet devastation. Like your heart physically cracked open in front of him and fuck. Caleb would rather take a bullet. 'I can't' sounded guilty, cowardly, suspicious. He knew that. But what was he supposed to do? Tell you there were armed eyes watching right now? Tell you people died over less information than this? Tell you your life had potentially become collateral damage the second you walked into that apartment? He coudn't risk it. Not with you. Never with you.
Imagine then your voice dropped smaller. "You're hurting me." And there it was, the thing tat finally broke him. Because you weren't screaming. You weren't insulting him. You just sounded hurt, disappointed, heartbroken. Like you couldn't understand why the man who loved you most was suddenly becoming the source of your pain. Caleb's grip loosened slightly around your wrist. His breathing became uneven. Because he knew. God, he knew he was hurting you and worse, he was doing it knowingly. Chosing silence while watching tears run down your face because the alternative could get you killed.
"Please." You whispered desperately. "Just tell me the truth." He wanted to. Fuck, he wanted to so badly. Wanted to grab your face and explain everything. Wanted to beg you not to leave him. Wanted to promise this wasn't betrayal. But then the laser appeared again brieflt against the concrete, then to your forehead. And Caleb saw red. Actual red. Something violent surged through him so fast his vision sharpened dangerously. Someone was aiming at you. At you. And suddenly every protective instinct inside him turned monstrous.
"I can't." He repeated hoarsely. You went still, then slowly... You pulled off your enngagement ring. The world stopped. No. No no no. Not that. Anything but that. Caleb genuinely panicked. Real panic. "No- baby, please-" "What am I supposed to do?!" You asked shakily. "Stand there pretending I didn't see another woman wearing your clothes?" He couldn't tell you anything, and that helplessness made rage build hotter inside him. Not at you. Never at you. At the situation, at the operation, at whoever forced him into this impossible corner, at the bastards watching from the shadows while the woman he loved cried in front of him because of their fucking mess. You shoved the ring into his chest. "Get out of my way."
Imagine he stared at the ring in his palm. Your ring. The one he spent months secretly carrying around before proposing because he wanted the perfect moment. The one you cried over while saying yes. Now it's sitting cold and unwated in his hand. Something inside Caleb cracked violently, but he stepped aside anyway. Because keeping you near him tonight suddenly felt more dangerous than losing you. And God, that realization nearly killed him. So he watched you get into the car. Watched your hands shake against the steering wheel. Watched you avoid looking at him directly because if you did, maybe you'd break harder.
Imagine Caleb stood there bleeding from the cheek, engagement ring clenched painfully tight in his fist, feeling completely fucking helpless. You looked at him once before driving away. And the devastation in your eyes would haunt him forever. Because despite everthing, you still loved him. He could see it. Which somehow made this infinitely crueler.
Imagine the second your car disappeared, Caleb snapped, completely. He stormed back upstairs so fast the witness physically recoiled when he entered. "She okay?" She asked quietly. Caleb ignored her and grabbed his phone immediately. The moment the line connected, his voice turned terrifying calm. "We've been compromised." Silence, then movement. "I want every surveillance team active now." "Sir?" "There was a fucking laser sight pointed at my fiancee." The room went dead silent. Caleb paced violently through the apartment. Caleb paced violently through the apartment. Every emotion inside him mutating into something colder, meaner, more dangerous.
"Get covert protection on her immediately. Twenty four hour surveillance." He was silent for a moment. "My family too. I want every possible tail identified before sunrise." "Sir we still need authorization-" "Then authorize it." Caleb snapped viciously. Nobdy argued after that tone. Colonel Caleb angry was dangerous. Colonel Caleb angry over you was catastrophic. "They touched the wrong fucking person." He said coldly. The witness stared silently from the kitchen while listening to the conversation. And honestly? She looked scared of him now. Good. Because Caleb himself felt terrifying right now. Not because he lost control but because he still had it.
Imagine every ounce of rage insdie him became focused, precise, lethal. He wanted names, faces, bodies. He wanted everyone involved in this operation dragged into the light personally. No more patience, no more careful politics. These people made you cry. Made you take off your engagement ring. Made you look at him like he betrayed you. For that alone, Caleb wanted them ruined.
Imagine that night, long after orders were issued and surveillance confirmed you reached home safely, Caleb sat alone on the edge of his bed staring at his phone. The apartment felt unbearably empty now. Tiny traces of you everywhere. And now, he didn't know if he lost you forever. The engagement ring sat beside him. Caleb kept staring at it like maybe if he looked hard enough, tonight would undo itself somehow. His cheek stung where you slapped him. He welcomed the pain. He deserved worse. Slowly, Caleb unlocked his phone.
You: I love you. seen
You: Please trust me. seen
then Imagine, it took him a few more seconds and one message for the message to failed and realized you had blocked him. And for a several seconds, he just stared blankly at the screen. Then he laughed, one horrible breathless laugh. Because of course you blocked him. Of course you did. And somehow the reality of it finally crushed him completely. You, his fiancee thought he betrayed you. The woman he planned his entire future around. The woman he wanted children with. The woman he loved so much it scared him sometimes. And now, you were gone. All because he couldn't protect both the mission and your heart at the same time.
Imagine the way the laugh broke midway. Then Caleb lowered his head into his hands and finally cried. Quietly, violently, completely alone. Because there is nothing could do right now except finish this opertion. But afterwards? Afterwards he was getting you back. Even if it destroyed his pride entirely.
Imagine he would kneel, he would beg, he would crawl if he has to, and he would explain everything. Spend years rebuilding your trust if necessary. Because Caleb knew one terrifying truth with complete certainty now. He woud survive gunfire, war, blood, death. But losing you? That would be the thing that finally fucking killed him.
[âdark-night-hero] 2026°
: if I have typos, just think I can't spell. Cuz maybe i really cant XD
Tags kasi decisions ako sa life: @moltensceptergambit @scoupshushushu @ceceoboro @younghideoutberserker @sleepykittyenergy @spiceandsass @younbeanz @multi-fandom-fanfic ;p
"If you think kissing at my neck is going to get you breakfast faster, it won't" you comment through a little fit of giggles.
Their arms are wrapped lazily around your waist. Rough lips pecking aling the surface of your smoother skin. The chill of the fall morning is nowhere to be felt thanks to their body heat. Truly, this is a perfect morning so far.
"I think my breakfast is right here." Their lips push down on your neck firmly. For a brief moment, you are sure felt teeth. "And you are far better than any food."
"Oh?" After living with them for so long, their morning flirts shouldn't get to you like this. Yet here you are already becoming a blushing mess as the kiss les move to your shoulders and grow more needy.
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18+ mdni | gege caleb always comes home during exam season to help u destress
TW. fingering, massages
caleb always took time off from the DAA during your exams to make sure you were taking care of yourself. as much as you argued that you were an adult and didnât need him, he knew you loved when he babied you. he could easily tell you liked it from the way your cheeks flushed every time he brought you food, patting your head and telling his âsmart girlâ to not work so hard.
plus, in a way it was a vacation for him. yes he was doing way more laundry, cooking, and cleaningâbut it was for you. in skyhaven he was doing the same stuff but had been constantly thinking about where you were, what you were doing, who you were with. now he didnât have to guess.
so every time you made a joke about him being a âhouse husbandâ, he laughed and happily agreed, saying itâs what he was born to do. you thought the label was funny, but caleb liked it because it extended his duties, and he made sure to follow through on them.
his favourite of all was after you finished all your exams and had him work out the knots that developed from stress. he was shocked at how tense you got, spending hours upon hours smoothing out your muscles with baby oil, relishing in the little gasps you let out every time he got close to where you really needed him.
âcmon sweets, try and relax for meâ
âyouâre so sensitive pipsâ
âalready squirming and i havenât even touched you properly yetâ
after caleb felt youâd been teased enough, heâd finally move his hands to your tits, pinching your nipples before bringing his fingers between your thighs, eyeing the slick forming.
âlooks like i donât need to use any more oil hereâ heâd tease, finally circling your clit with the pad of his index finger, cock swelling at the way your hips jumped. he never made it about him though, this was for you. his fingers only sped up after you moaned his name, begging your gege to stop teasing.
two fingers dipped into your entrance causing your cunt to immediately convulse around the intrusion, clit throbbing as his thumb pressed down. when you finally let go for him and came with a cry of his name on your tongue, he moved your thighs apart, kneeling between them before starting the process over with his tongue.
18+ mdni | gege caleb always comes home during exam season to help u destress
TW. fingering, massages
caleb always took time off from the DAA during your exams to make sure you were taking care of yourself. as much as you argued that you were an adult and didnât need him, he knew you loved when he babied you. he could easily tell you liked it from the way your cheeks flushed every time he brought you food, patting your head and telling his âsmart girlâ to not work so hard.
plus, in a way it was a vacation for him. yes he was doing way more laundry, cooking, and cleaningâbut it was for you. in skyhaven he was doing the same stuff but had been constantly thinking about where you were, what you were doing, who you were with. now he didnât have to guess.
so every time you made a joke about him being a âhouse husbandâ, he laughed and happily agreed, saying itâs what he was born to do. you thought the label was funny, but caleb liked it because it extended his duties, and he made sure to follow through on them.
his favourite of all was after you finished all your exams and had him work out the knots that developed from stress. he was shocked at how tense you got, spending hours upon hours smoothing out your muscles with baby oil, relishing in the little gasps you let out every time he got close to where you really needed him.
âcmon sweets, try and relax for meâ
âyouâre so sensitive pipsâ
âalready squirming and i havenât even touched you properly yetâ
after caleb felt youâd been teased enough, heâd finally move his hands to your tits, pinching your nipples before bringing his fingers between your thighs, eyeing the slick forming.
âlooks like i donât need to use any more oil hereâ heâd tease, finally circling your clit with the pad of his index finger, cock swelling at the way your hips jumped. he never made it about him though, this was for you. his fingers only sped up after you moaned his name, begging your gege to stop teasing.
two fingers dipped into your entrance causing your cunt to immediately convulse around the intrusion, clit throbbing as his thumb pressed down. when you finally let go for him and came with a cry of his name on your tongue, he moved your thighs apart, kneeling between them before starting the process over with his tongue.
Description: The one thing that drives Theo literally crazy is when you call him "my husband"
Word count: 1.1k words
Warnings: violence - Theo getting into a fight, swearing, possessiveness, slight harassment
Reblogs, comments, and likes are extremely appreciated.
...
Call him self-centred. If there was one thing Theo loved hearing you say, most of all, it was two words, so simple that everyone else would hardly pay them any attention. "My husband" Yes, that's right, your husband, he would think.
Once you realised what it did to him it was basically a get out of jail free card.
He's mad? "my grumpy husband," you'd say, his frown relaxed, the smile that itched the corners of his lips tells you what it needs to.
You want money? "My darling husband, your wife needs to shop" you'd softly say with your palm out, while he practically falls over himself finding you his wallet.
It was about to exceed your expectations, indeed in public, and not directed towards him at all.
You and Theo navigated through the thick crowd of people, occasionally greeting old friends, at a gala, before Theodore left you to fetch you both a drink.
Patiently waiting for Theo's return, content, until you feel a tap on your shoulder, turning around to find Vincent Crabbe with a sly grin as his hand reached towards you to offer a drink.
"No, thank you, Theo's on his way with my drink" you politely decline
"Oh come on, take it" he insists, coming closer
You unintentionally breathed out an annoyed sigh. Crabbe was just like this in school too, so relentlessly determined to start something with you.
"Crabbe, please don't make me say no again, we both know it won't end well" You smile, your lips closing even tighter this time as you inch away from the unwanted company
"It's habit, you know, the things I'd would do if I- I-I've always wanted just, one, chance" he desperately, almost drunkenly admits, coming so close that you can smell his lunch on his breath
"Yes well, I suggest you kick the habit now, considering my husbandâs leniency spreads thin after one blow" You quickly say before stepping back, Theodores hands catch your waist, moving you behind him, as he steps forward, now closer to Crabbe face than he tried to get to yours.
"See Crabbe, I heard that last sentence my wife spoke, and" Theo started, synchronised with his hands rolling up his white linen shirt to his elbows
"- I don't like the way she sounded. Her tone almost scared, Crabbe, wouldn't you agree?" He continued as he backed him into a corner, you followed close behind, watching your husband unfold.
"The sort of scared that you're showing in your face right now, that's the scared I hear in my wife's voice when you were exceedingly flirting with her. Would you agree with that too?" he says his anger rising, his jaw tensing.
"N-No, I mean yes, yes, or no, no! I-" Crabbe stumbled on his words as quickly as he was stumbling over his overworking feet, all ability to flee from Theodore was impossible
Theo had weighed up his opinions but every time he blinked he saw red, hearing your voice repeating 'my husbandâs leniency'. It was a reminder of who he was to you, who you are to him, something to protect by any means, that's when he fist acted before his words, clashing into the side of Crabbe's face twice.
Crabbe now on the floor, Theo dropped one more blow directly to his mouth, his wedding ring marking his the skin below his nose "See how well your mouth works now with a busted lip, you piece of shit" He spatout as he left his wounded foe.
"Are you ok? Come on" Theo's brows upturned, frantically worried he missed the worst of your conversation with Crabbe.
"I'm fine, let's get out of here" you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
...
Now home and safe in bed, Theo stared straight ahead, taking his hands in yours, you gently place delicate kisses to his busted knuckles.
"Baby" he almost whispers out, if your weren't paying such cautious attention to him you might have missed it.
Clawing on top of him you move your hands to his face as his hands take a strong grip of each side of your hips.
"I know" you soothe
Before you can add to the comfort, Theodore's lips lock yours.
The kiss needy, greedy and possessive.
His mouth moving down to your neck, "you know how much I love when you do this shit" he says behind wet hot breathes
"Do what?" you smile
"call me your husband" he growls
"You are my husband" you beam, as the words leave your mouth, his hands dig into your thigh like a deathgrip
"I fucking know" he whimpers.
You feel him shift beneath you, his body humming under your touch like a live wire, each kiss, each word, only spurring him on further. It was like a thread inside him snapped every time you repeated the words.
His grip tightened, enough to bruise if you stayed like that too long, but you only welcomed it, sinking against him as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing you in like he needed you to survive.
"My girl," he muttered harshly against your skin, voice cracking, almost desperate. "My wife."
You thread your fingers into his hair, giving a gentle tug that earns a guttural sound from deep in his chest. Theo had always had this temper, but this part of him, raw and pleading, always followed his outbursts.
"All yours," you whisper back, lips brushing his ear, the words an oath. Theo pulls away enough for your eyes to meet his.
"You scared me," he says, voice hoarse. "When I saw you, when I heard you. I could've fucking killed him."
"I know," you murmur again, stroking the side of his face with your thumb, the bruised knuckles resting against your hip.
"I fucking should've" his eyes exploring your own as if he was searching for reassurance
"I'd do it again," he continues
You smile, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth
"I know," you repeat
Theoâs hands roamed now, slower, more deliberate. His nose brushes yours before his lips dip to kiss your cheeks all over
"Say it again," he mumbles.
You knew entirely what he meant
"My husband." flashing his your wedding ring
And just like that, the air leaves his lungs in one, broken exhale, as if the words physically knocked the breath out of his body.
"Fuck," he curses under his breath, pulling you flush against him, "Iâm done for."
...
AUTHOR NOTE:
HIIIIIII my lovelies. Getting back into writing, starting with something small-ish, my apologies if it's not up to scratch, first time writing in months LOLLL. Also, this is unread or unedited.
Reblogs, comments, and likes are extremely appreciated.
A/n: Just a short little thingy-thing. Jake x MC. Nothing special. After posting about it days earlier I wanted to address the topic... well, in a drabble lol.
Jake had been back for three days now. Three days in which he had been staring at the new file on his laptop without opening it.
He hadnât allowed himself to.
Moonvale.
Attached to itâlogs, names, locations, fragments, messages. Secrets.
And MC.
Your name appeared too often to be ignored.
Maybe he should have ignored it. Focused on everything else that required his attention. There was enough. More than enough.
But at 02:13, in the dark of a rented hotel room, the screen the only source of light, restraint became inefficient.
He opened the file.
His jaw tightened as unfamiliar names populated the screen. Profiles. Connections. Movement patterns. All organized. Clean. Efficient.
Ordered alphabetically by NYMOS.
His eyes moved faster.
Cross-references. Message logs. Calls. Already a lot of them.
And pinned at the top of the folder, two missing persons: Adam Dover. Sophia Holland.
He stilled, eyes moving a bit slower as he read the information. Both disappeared on the same night. Both in... the woods of Redlog Pines.
He exhaled, measured, controlled, while patterns were getting clearer in his mind.
Your name surfaced again. Threaded through conversations. Attached to timestamps that stretched deep into the night. Too late to be healthy for your sleep schedule.
He leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing when he shortly looked away from the screen out the window into the dark night.
The realization came fast, uncomplicated. Unpleasant.
You were doing it again. Investigating. Barely a gap between this one and Duskwood. And once again... no hesitation from you.
But this time... no him.
He became aware of the pressure in his jaw only when the metallic taste registered on his tongue from where his teeth had dug into his cheek. But he didnât loosen it.
The pain brought him back from his thoughts, his eyes snapping back to the screen, the cursor flickering.
He scrolled back to the top. Read everything again. Faster this time. As if his mind had decided there was no time to waste. As if his mind was trying to distract him from a spiral of worry.
But it only made everything clearer. Realer.
You were repeating it. Different names. Different place. But the same structure.
And the same risks...
His gaze shifted back to your name, highlighted in the system as if it belonged there. As if it had always belonged there.
His fingers moved before the thought fully formed. The secured channel he had opened three days ago when he came back. When he finally reached out again.
For a moment, the cursor blinked in an empty input field.
But he did not fill it yet. Didn't type the words in his mind.
Instead, he pulled up another log. Ran a quick trace on one of the numbers linked to you.
Eric.
Barely secured account.
Amateur.
His expression darkened, almost imperceptibly, the more he read.
A girl named Ash you already befriended. Just like you did with Jessy without even doing anything. A guy named Charlie. Too personal. Too... aligned. Too... open with all of them. Worrying for each of them.
And the most bitter realization so farâ
You trusted them.
He leaned back in his chair, this time fully. His screen showing your story: âWho knows what happened at the Greenside Motel?â
Your beautiful face looking right at him from your profile pictures.
He stared right back as his chest began to tighten up. Second by second. His thoughts started to race. Worry, hurt, jealousy mixing together into a complicated mix that took over his rational thoughts.
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"forgive me, i've got an appetite when you look at me like that."
word count: 4,902.
summary: armed with a fresh haircut, his infamous italian charm, and absolutely filthy mouth, theo is determined to make his best friend break. unfortunately, you donât stand a chance against him during ovulation week.
author's note: what can I say? i'm an insatiable little rat who can't seem to quit while she's ahead. fair warning: theo is feral in this. please enjoy our favorite munch doing what he does best.
â« southbound - artemas. nav. more theo.
âYouâre taking the piss.âÂ
Theodore Nott was no stranger to his best mateâs unparalleled talent for bullshit, but this took the cake by far. Honesty, what kind of fool did Mattheo take him for? Despite his skepticism, his curly headed friend showed no signs of retreat. Instead, Mattheo paused their video game and tossed the controller onto his bed, which told Theo that he meant business.Â
âIâm telling you, mate,â Mattheo insisted as he took the joint from his dubious friend. Smoke filled their dorm as Riddle took a long drag. âItâs a real thing.âÂ
Theo snatched the joint back and inhaled deeply. Frankly, he needed it to deal with Mattheoâs antics. âThereâs no such thing as ovulation week.âÂ
Just a few moments ago, they were having a perfectly great time shotgunning energy drinks and playing extremely violent video games until Mattheo announced that he needed to leave immediately. His lame ass excuse for interrupting their very important activities? Attending to his girlfriendâs needs. Needless to say, Theo was not pleased. Like the jealous, codependent best friend that he was, he rolled his eyes and whinged.Â
âThatâs the third time youâve bailed on me this week,â he said with a sigh. âYou know I like Chloe, but sheâs cutting into my custody time. We made arrangements, you know.âÂ
Mattheo snorted. âSorry mate, but itâs ovulation week. I have to take advantage of it while I can.â
The confusing gibberish then prompted Theo to ask the question that would irrevocably change the trajectory of his silly little life: âWhat the fuck is ovulation week?âÂ
Mattheo explained that two weeks before their period, there was approximately a weekâs window of time where women became absolutely feral and horny. Thanks to the increased levels of fertility, their hormones and libido spiked to its most potent peak. Apparently, sex during this time was insane and unhinged, which is why Mattheo was ditching his best mate for the night.Â
âSorry, Theo,â Mattheo said, not looking the least bit sorry. âBut duty calls. You understand, right?âÂ
âNo, I really donât,â Theo mused. âBecause if what youâre saying is true, then Y/N would have told me. She never gets like that.âÂ
If ovulation week was a real thing, Theo would have noticed the signs from his childhood best friend. The two of you were practically inseparable and spent every waking moment together. Arguably, he was closer to you than anyone else in his lifeâincluding Mattheo. Hell, Theo even knew when your period was coming because he set a monthly reminder on his wand to bring you snacks and a heat pack.Â
There were no secrets between you.Â
Right?
âOh, she definitely does. Y/N is probably just good at hiding it.âÂ
Theo frowned deeply. Why would his best friend hide anything from him? For fuckâs sake, he told you about his first boner! Granted, it happened while you were sitting right next to him, so he supposed there was no escaping the sordid confession, but he could hardly be blamed. At thirteen years old, Theo was wholly unprepared for Mrs. Malfoy to bend over in front of him during dinner at the manor.Â
It certainly didnât help when Narcissa brushed his hair back and pinched his already reddened cheeks. âTheo, dear, youâve gone all red. Are you quite well?âÂ
The answer was a big fat resounding no. It was the most humiliating moment of his life, but nonetheless Theo shared it with you because thatâs what best friends do. The thought of you keeping anything from him made his head pound and his chest tighten in the most unpleasant way.Â
Mattheo, the little shit that he was, decided to pile on to Theoâs anxiety by adding a rather unhelpful suggestion that he hadnât even considered. âI donât know how sheâs surviving it by herself. I definitely wouldnât. But maybe Y/N has someone else to help her out with it that she doesnât want any of us to know about. We are a pretty nosy lot, after all.â
Someone else? There should be no one else. Theo was truly starting to spin out about the whole thing. Why wouldnât you tell him about ovulation week in the first place? And why, on Godricâs green earth, would you ask anyone other than him to help? He wouldâve done so in a heartbeat. Theo would do anything for you. You had to have known that.Â
A million thoughts fired off in his mind. Was it that stupid Ravenclaw that you sat next to in potions? Or that gormless Hufflepuff that followed you around like a lost puppy? Merlin, he was going to fucking murder them. Needless to say, Theo was pissed about a theoretical situation that he completely made up in his head.Â
All this time, Theo thought he had made himself perfectly clear. The years of bantering, bickering, and flirting should have clued you in on exactly how he felt about you. Everyone else in the castle knew that you were off-limits. Not only were you his best friend, but you were his period. Perhaps it was time to remind you of that.
After Mattheo left, he formulated a plan. Thanks to his tracking charm and complete lack of boundaries, Theo knew that you and Mattheoâs girlfriend were cycle sisters, which meant that you had to be ovulating this week too. With cunning and determination, Theo set off for Hogsmeade to enact the first phase of his plan.Â
You would never know what hit you.Â
When Friday night rolled around, Theo was locked, cocked, and loaded.Â
After his trip to Hogsmeade, he spent extra time fussing with his freshly cut waves before breaking out his expensive aftershave and cologne. Theo even went so far as putting on your favourite jumper of hisâthe one that, according to you, brought out the pretty colour of his eyes. To top it all off, he slipped on his rings and combat boots and prepared himself for battle. Oh yes, he was indeed bringing out the big guns.
As usual, his friends were gathered in the common room for their weekly movie night. Notably absent were Mattheo and his girlfriend, who were both likely defiling some corner of the castle. The rest of the Slytherins piled in with snacks and blankets in hand. Pansy and Enzo were arguing about which movie to watch when Theo slipped into his rightful spot next to you.Â
âCiao, bella,â he rasped.Â
Theo tried not to smirk at your little gasp of surprise as you took him in. Your cheeks flushed a pretty pink color as he lazily lounged on the couch and draped his arm over your shoulders. The casual kiss he placed on your cheek lingered longer than what could be considered friendly.Â
âHi, Teddy,â you greeted in a sweet voice.Â
Your eyes flickered to his waves. It was perfectly sex tousled like he had just taken a roll around in the sheets before coming down to torment you.Â
âDid you get a haircut?âÂ
âMhm,â Theo hummed as he swept your hair over your shoulder. âDâya like it?âÂ
You nodded slowly. âIt looks nice.âÂ
Unbeknownst to his scheme, you were convinced the universe was playing a cruel joke on you. This week had already been hell thanks to your heightened hormones and your best friend casually strolling into the scene looking like sex on legs certainly didn't help. It was already hard enough to control yourself around him on a normal day, so ovulation week was truly testing your willpower.
âJust nice?â Theo asked cheekily. âI think you can do a little better than that, dolcezza.âÂ
The rasp in his voice combined with his stupid irresistible Italian drawl was inflicting all sorts of damage to your nervous system. You could hardly hear yourself think as Theo leaned in closer, enveloping you with the intoxicating scent of sea salt and smoke. Something as simple as cologne shouldnât have made you so unbelievably wet, but here you were, practically soaked through after a whiff. For Salazarâs sake, you needed to get a fucking grip.Â
You rolled your eyes fondly, but the gesture didnât seem as convincing after you awkwardly shifted in your seat to alleviate the pressure.Â
âItâs okay, bella. You donât have to say it,â Theo teased. âWe both know Iâm hot.âÂ
That was exactly the problem, wasnât it? Your best friend was undeniably and unfairly attractive. Most days, it was easy to circumvent the inconvenient urge to climb him like a tree thanks to common sense, but once a month, for a week straight, the ugly horny little beast within you pondered if riding him until you passed out was worth risking the friendship. Especially when Theo made it his mission to tease the fuck out of you for absolutely no reason at all.Â
Regardless, you ignored his cheeky little wink and turned your attention to your friends instead. Despite groaning at Daphneâs choice of a cheesy romcom, the boys were fully invested in watching the story unfold. You tried your best to pay attention, but Theo was making it absolutely impossible.Â
Without warning, Theo tugged you into his lap. The blanket snuggled up to your chin covered the compromising position, but did nothing to ease your nerves. You tensed as he cuddled you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder while his arms snaked around your waist. The scratch of his stubble against your cheek made you shiver. The movie was all but forgotten as Theo toyed with the strap of your bra.
"Hmm, I like this colour on you," he murmured, admiring the delicate baby blue lace. "Very pretty."
You nearly choked on your own tongue. "Tâthanks."
In an effort to drive you insane, Theo alternated from massaging your neck to feeding you popcorn and sweets.Â
âOpen up, bella,â Theo rasped as he tapped a sugar quill against your bottom lip.Â
You were sure your knuckles were white from gripping the couch cushions so violently, but you obliged nonetheless. Something dark and dangerous flickered in your best friendâs gaze as you sucked on the sweet.Â
âGood girl.âÂ
The two of you had always teetered the impossible line between just friends and something more, but it had always been fun and lighthearted. Now, the flirting felt more sexually charged than it ever had before. Theo was done with teetering the line. Tonight, he was charging straight ahead with reckless abandon.Â
Your best friend smirked as you flushed deeply. Your entire body felt like it was on fire as he pulled you further into his lap. There, against your arse, was evidence that Theo was playing an entirely different game. Embarrassed, you attempted to reposition yourself.Â
Theo gripped your hips in response and planted you firmly over his erection. âStop squirming around, bella. Youâll only make me harder.âÂ
The surprised squeak that came out of you only further encouraged his behavior. What the actual fuck was happening? Sure, you and Theo had teased each other before. The usual stuff like making out while you were drunk or daring each other to strip during poker, but those activities could easily be blamed on the alcohol. Now that you were stone cold sober, there was really no excuse.Â
âWhat game are you playing at, Theo?âÂ
âIâm testing a theory.âÂ
You raised a brow. âAbout?âÂ
Theo paused, his intense gaze landing on your face before he slid his hands underneath your skirt. You jolted when he squeezed your thighs, his cold rings biting into your sensitive skin.Â
âMattheo told me something interesting.âÂ
Your eyes fluttered close as he brushed your hair back and whispered in your ear. The movie was loud enough to mask his words, but you doubted youâd even care if the others heard.Â
âHe explained a little concept called ovulation week. Said you witches get downright feral. That the horniness is unlike anything heâs ever seen. How come Iâve never seen that side of you, hm?â The erratic sound of your own heartbeat pulsed in your ears. âDo I not do it for you, bella?âÂ
You let out a soft sigh as he toyed with the hem of your skirt. âTheoâŠâÂ
âNo, I genuinely want to know,â Theo pressed, his lips gliding against your throat while his hands travelled higher and higher. âThereâs no secrets between us, right? Is there someone else?âÂ
His tone turned dark and possessive. âI bet he canât touch you like I would. I bet he canât make you scream like I would. I bet he canât fuck you until your pretty eyes roll back like I would.âÂ
Theo palmed you over your panties while you bit back a moan.Â
âTeddy, pleaseâŠâÂ
âBe a good girl and answer the question, Y/N.âÂ
âThereâsâŠthereâs no one.â Theo raised a brow and withdrew his touch. You whined at the loss of contact, but he merely stared at you. âI had hookups here and there, but it just didnât feel right. They didnât feel right.âÂ
âBecause theyâre not me.âÂ
Once spoken into existence, it was impossible to keep denying the truth. Deep down, you both knew this was inevitable anyways.Â
âTheyâre not you.âÂ
Theo said nothing as he hauled you up from the couch, ignoring your friendâs protests as he led you down a dark corridor. The two of you were barely out of sight before Theo pushed you against the wall and crashed his lips onto yours.Â
The kiss was neither shy nor sweet, but desperate and hungry. Theo kissed like he was starving for it, his entire body enveloping yours while the force of his desire made your back hit the wall. Years and years of pent up tension and longing poured out of him as your lips melded together, pressing again and again until you were dizzy and breathless.Â
You whimpered softly as Theo slid his thigh between your legs. He took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, groaning while he squeezed your neck possessively. You made a mess of his waves, tugging at his hair to pull him even closer. Theo impatiently hauled you up so your legs were wrapped around his waist. The makeout session was hot, heavy, and unlikely to stop anytime soon.Â
The wanton moan that escaped your mouth went straight to Theoâs cock. Suddenly, he was carrying you through the corridor and into his dorm without breaking the kiss. You scrambled to get the door open and giggled when Theo impatiently slammed it shut behind you. The sound of it reverberated along the dungeon walls.Â
You had no time to gather your bearings before Theo tossed you onto his bed, his pupils blown wide with desire while he crawled over you. The frantic need to feel his skin against yours felt overwhelming. Theo smirked as your hands roamed underneath his jumper.Â
The taut lines of his abs flexed against your touch as you greedily tugged the jumper over his head. Theo was not as gracious. He ripped your blouse open, the buttons flying everywhere and leaving you exposed. Theo groaned at the sight of your baby blue lace bra before trailing hungry kisses down your cleavage.Â
Your chest heaved as he laved your skin with openmouthed kisses, painting bruises onto your breasts. Theo looked completely undoneâhis watercolour eyes nearly black, his lips kissbitten and pink, and his hair a tousled mess beneath your fingertips. You wanted him so badly that it fucking hurt.Â
When you reached for his belt buckle, Theo instantly grabbed your wrist. âNo, dolcezza,â he grunted. âIâve waited too long for this. Weâre not rushing it. Iâm going to worship your body like you deserve until youâre a screaming, writhing mess. Then and only then will I even think about fucking you. Do you understand?âÂ
His filthy words made your core clench. All you could do was nod. âOkay.âÂ
Theo smirked and kissed you sweetly. âThatâs my good girl. Now, spread your legs. Youâre my meal and Iâm fucking starving for it.âÂ
A shaky little exhale was the only response you could manage as Theo planted kisses along your calves and knees before settling between your thighs. His eyes were wide when he surveyed your matching baby blue panties. Theo looked up at you as he kissed the delicate white bow sitting pretty on your waistband.
âSo pretty for me,â Theo hummed. âI canât wait to make a mess out of you, Y/N.â
That hypnotizing gaze was fixated on you as he licked a stripe along your folds. The first taste of your pussy had his eyes rolling to the back of his head.Â
Theo wasted no time and flicked his tongue like his life depended on it, licking and sucking in a way that made your back arch off the bed. He was relentless in his pursuit, his tongue swirling in dizzying patterns that had your body tingling in pleasure while he greedily lapped up your juices. It was entirely depraved and utterly heavenly. You could have died happily with his head between your thighs.Â
Though judging from the unholy moans coming out of Theo, he might be enjoying eating your pussy more than you were. His pretty eyes rolled back as he sucked on your clit, wicked tongue darting out to spell something that took a moment of concentration to follow. T-h-e-oâŠÂ
For fuckâs sake, this infuriatingly sexy man was quite literally spelling his name on the most intimate part of your body, effectively claiming you for himself.Â
âYou taste so fucking sweet, dolcezza,â Theo groaned. âI canât get enough.âÂ
You watched through heavy lids as he palmed himself over his trousers, slipping his hand into his boxers and squeezing to regain control. The sight of it made you whimper.Â
âGod, youâre justâŠunbelievable,â you said breathlessly. âYouâre worse than me and Iâm ovulating.âÂ
Theo grinned unabashedly. âYou only have to deal with it for a week every month, but this is how I feel every day. You wouldnât even believe all the filthy fucking things I think about doing to you on the daily.âÂ
You blew out a breath as he grinded against the mattress. It was desperate and pathetic and you fucking loved it.Â
âI want you to do all of them to me,â you said. âGive me everything, Theo.âÂ
At that, Theo sucked your clit hard. The orgasm hit you like a bludger to the head. You whined and writhed while Theo watched with rapt attention. The sight of you bucking your hips against his mouth was enough to make him cum, but he promised himself that he wouldnât until he was inside of you.Â
Even as the orgasm made you shake, Theo slid a finger into your throbbing pussy. You were sensitive and the squelch of you sucking his fingers in filled the room. Theo filled you over and over again, stretching you so you could properly take his cock.Â
It didnât take long for the orgasm to start building again. You gasped in surprise as Theo easily flipped your positions, manhandling you so that you were seated above him. You lifted your hips to alleviate the weight, but Theo was stubborn and gripped your thighs until you were hovering directly above his face.Â
âTheo, wait. You wonât be able to breathe,â you said with concern. âI donât want to suffocate you.âÂ
The cocky git actually laughed. âI promise you, I can handle it.â He cheekily bit the flesh of your thigh. âNow be a good girl and ride my face, principessa.â
Never in your wildest dreams would you have guessed how filthy your best friend actually was. You wondered about all the different ways he fantasized ruining you and felt yourself get wetter at the thought. Bracing against the headboard, you gave Theo exactly what he asked for and grinded your throbbing cunt against his mouth.Â
âFuckâso fucking addictingâŠâ he sounded absolutely euphoric. âMustâve dosed your pussy with Amortentia. Canât stop eating this sweet little cunt.â
Theo was insatiable. He ate and ate until it bordered on gluttony. It felt like hours before he finally let up, flicking his tongue over your clit until you were close to the precipice again. You gripped the headboard and cried out as you came. The sensation felt different this timeâwetter. You realized with a shock that you had squirted all over him.Â
Theo moaned. âLook at you, pretty girl. Such a fucking mess for me.â He licked the juices off of his mouth. âWas that your first time?âÂ
You flushed furiously. âYâyes.â
âIâm honored,â he said with a tinge of pride. âYouâre doing so well, principessa. One more and youâll be nice and ready.âÂ
You were still shaking from the aftershock of your second orgasm. âI donâtâI donât think I can, Theo.â
Theo hummed as he brushed the hair out of your face. âOf course you can. Iâm not stopping until youâve soaked the sheets. Come on, bella. Squirt all over my face. Mark your territory, hm.â
Well, fuck. He was so goddamn filthy that it was impossible to refuse. Besides, that little bit of praise had you growing wet again. You held nothing back as you grinded against him on shaky legs. Theo moaned and squeezed your ass, signaling you to go faster. He made no complaints as you just about smothered and suffocated him. Instead, he guided your hips with one hand and stroked himself with the other.Â
The depravity of Theo getting himself off while you rode his face brought you to the edge again. You screamed his name as his tongue flicked over your clit. Theo moaned in pleasure when you squirted for him again, soaking the sheets all the way through just like he wanted. It was as beautiful as he imagined.Â
Theo kissed you all over, murmuring praise and encouragement while you recovered from the comedown. You hummed in contentment as his tongue slid into your mouth, kissing you slowly with the taste of you still lingering on his lips. It was luxuriant and languid this time, making your head fuzzy at the edges.Â
At first, you were content with the exploratory touching and lazy kisses, but you were quickly learning that the need for Theo never truly dissipated. Because you repressed it for so long, it had buried itself underneath your skin until it eventually bubbled to the surface and begged for release.
âYouâre doing so well. So perfect for me,â Theo praised. âIâm so fucking obsessed with you. Have been for years.â
âShouldâve said something,â you countered, pecking at his lips. âWanted you for so long. Couldâve been doing this all along.â
Theo groaned, pressing his forehead against yours. âDonât say that, bella,â he murmured. âI hate knowing I wasted so much time being an idiot when I couldâve been kissing youâŠâ Theo sucked on your bottom lip. âTouching youâŠâ his big hands gripped yours arse. âFucking youâŠâ you moaned as he slid a finger through your folds. âJust like this.â
As you slid your hand beneath the waistband of his boxers, Theo panted into your mouth. âI guess weâll just have to make up for lost time.â
âCheeky little witch.â
You kept eye contact as you palmed him, smirking slightly when his cock twitched in your hand. When you finally wrapped your fingers around him, you understood why he insisted on getting you off so many times. Theo was fucking big. His cock was hot and heavy and throbbing in your palm as you pumped him back and forth. Theo cursed as he watched you stroke him, the unintelligible string of Italian sounding like music to your ears.
âFuck, bella,â he said in a hoarse voice as his forehead dropped against yours. âI want you so fucking bad.âÂ
You positioned his head at your entrance and rubbed him over your slick folds. Theo choked when you slowly grinded against his cock, barely slipping the tip in while you bit your lip. In and out in slow, shallow thrusts that felt absolutely torturous. Theo couldnât stop watching as the head of his cock was swallowed by your sweet cunt. You were being such a tease, but he fucking loved it.Â
âThen have me, Theo.âÂ
A flip switched inside of him and suddenly you were seated on his lap. Theo gave you no warning before he thrust all the way in, his hip bone touching yours as he buried his cock to the hilt. The two of you moaned in unison. You felt so full, so whole. You never realized how empty you were without him.Â
Theo released a shaky breath. âFuck, you feel so good. Pretty pussyâs squeezing me so tight.âÂ
His filthy words made you clench around him even more. âOh Theo, fuckââ
You buried your face in his neck, breathing in sea salt and smoke as you rolled your hips and felt every inch of him. Theo was more than happy to allow you to adjust, his kisses slow and sloppy while you grinded on him. It took some time to acclimate to his size, but thankfully you were fully prepared. Once you got your bearings, you picked up the pace.Â
You bounced on his cock as Theo watched with heavy lidded eyes. His lips wrapped around your tits, catching a nipple into his mouth and sucking greedily while you fucked him. Theo looked elated as you used him for your own pleasure, clawing at his chest as your ass slapped against his thighs.Â
âOh god,â you moaned. âYouâre so big, Theo. I want you to tear me apart.âÂ
Without warning, Theo flipped you onto your back. You squealed as your back hit the mattress.Â
âOh, Iâm going to fucking ruin you, principessa.âÂ
Theo pressed your legs against your chest and thrust in without mercy. The pace he set was punishing, but it hit all the right spots. You were lost in delirium as Theo squeezed your throat, making you lightheaded and dazed with pleasure. You were pleased to find that he was extremely vocal in bed.Â
âYeah, you like that?â Theo grunted. âYou like it when I fuck you just like this, Y/N?âÂ
Tears filled your eyes as you whimpered in response. You were so overstimulated, but it felt too fucking good to stop. âYâyes, yes.âÂ
âAw, I know, baby,â Theo cooed as he fucked you into the mattress. âI know. Your pussy feels like heaven.â
Theo kissed you deeply before hiking your legs over his shoulders. The skin to skin contact felt amazing. He wanted to be as close as possible. Theo needed every inch of you touching him. Fuck, heâd crawl into your skin if you let him.Â
Most of all, Theo wanted to see your pretty face. He wanted to hear all your whimpers and moans while you chanted his name over and over again like a prayer. He had never been a fan of this position. It was too intimate, too close. But with you, it was all Theo wanted.Â
âI think youâve made me a fan of missionary,â Theo said with an amused chuckle. âMy little princess. You look so pretty when Iâm fucking you.âÂ
He groaned when you squeezed his cock. You were gripping him so tight, clenching around him like a vice. âYou like when I talk dirty to you, bella?â
âYes, gods,â you panted. âItâs so hot. Your voice makes me wet.âÂ
âMmm, your voice makes my cock hard.â Theo admitted. âAnd your face. And your eyes. And your hair. And every other thing about you. You donât even know what you fucking do to me.âÂ
Your eyes fluttered close. âTheo, please. Right there. Oh fuck, Iâm so close.â
âI know, principessa,â he cooed. âI can feel you squeezing my cock, milking me dry. Let me come inside you. Let me fill you up like you need.âÂ
âYes, yes, pleaseâŠâÂ
Your back arched off the bed as you came. Theoâs eyes rolled back as your pussy convulsed around him. His thrusts turned sloppy and out of control before his cum filled you to the brim. Theo thrust all the way in, securing every last drop inside you. His cock twitched as he unloaded, his arms wrapping protectively around you to keep you in place while the last shocks of your orgasm faded.Â
âKeep it all in, principessa,â he commanded. âI donât want to waste a single drop. I love knowing youâre full of my cum.â Theo chuckled darkly when you whimpered softly. âShouldâve known youâd have a breeding kink too. Youâre just as filthy as I am, bella.â
âWhen I said I wanted all of you, I meant it.â
Your best friend looked at you like you hung the stars and the moon. God, you were so fucking perfect. After a while, Theo collapsed beside you but kept his cock in place as he snuggled to your side. He smiled against your neck as you brushed the sweaty strands stuck to his forehead.Â
âThe hair, the jumper, the cologne,â you ticked off. âYou did all of that on purpose, didnât you? You play dirty, Teddy.âÂ
Theo merely shrugged. âI had to make sure you realized what was already yours. I wonât apologize for that.âÂ
You rolled your eyes. âOf course you wonât. Consider it realized, though. I know youâre mine.âÂ
Theo groaned when you squeezed your walls around him. You giggled when he started getting hard again.Â