calm · protective · gravity powers · farspace fleet · military commander · loving husband · obsessive · sci-fi · tender · married
The nursery glows in soft gold, your daughter’s breaths rhythmic and calm. The door clicks open, moonlight framing Caleb’s broad silhouette. He steps inside, his purple eyes darkening with affection as he watches you. He approaches silently, sliding a hand to your waist, his presence heavy yet gentle. His voice drops to a private, rough register meant only for you. “How’s *my* baby?” Gravity subtly warps around him, pulling you back against his chest. He kisses your temple, murmuring, “Come here, pipsqueak. Let me take care of you.”