i-am-a-bad-influence-writes

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Anyone got time to proofread a smutty prof!Rafayel x reader story?

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Literally :'D

(jk, but thank you so much for reading <3 )

P*rn ☆  Introduction

Masterlist Word count: 1 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Mature content under the cut. This part is setup. No graphic content yet.

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It's been fucking years! Not by your choice. No, not at all. You just hadn't had the time or the energy, but God do you crave it. It hadn't really bothered you the first year. You had gone on dates regularly, but despite your love for intimacy you need a certain level of connection before you lay down and take it. Sure, you had a few nice connections but no one that managed to turn you on. 

Not like he does. 

Ever since your regular booty call called it off, you started watching some adult content. At first nothing really seemed to call to you. You were flipflopping from category to category as if you were flipping through a magazine, leaving you high and dancing on the edge of full gratification every single time. Sure, you came but it never felt that great. 

Then you found him. 

Tall as a fucking mountain, grey hair, red eyes, sly smile, toned body, strong nose that's ever so slightly crooked. You even remember the little scar under his left eye. But what does it for you, most of all, is his voice. Low and gravely, constantly teasing and commanding. There's something more to it though. When he gets to the edge, it's almost as if he wants someone to take over and it fucking gets you going. Makes your panties go from bone dry to soaking wet in a matter of seconds. 

Worst of all, the man has a TikTok page and a Tumblr page. Neither are all that suggestive. The TikTok has some thirst traps and workout videos, but the Tumblr page is a different story. On there, he reads spicy romance books to his audience. He had tried it before on YouTube but got taken down real fast. Those books, the way his voice picks up and changes with the story. It's truly something magical. You'd almost consider it better content than the videos of him stroking his dick, though you don't mind that those exist at all. 

And today is Friday, which means he's posting a new chapter and there's a possibility of a new video on TikTok. Nothing too riveting but enough to get you going and keep you going for the weekend. You're looking at a long and satisfying weekend with your magic wand. Just one more hour until your shift is done. 

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'Again?!' Sylus’ voice booms through the living room of his apartment. If it were any louder, the walls would shiver. 'I was so fucking careful this time,' he says through gritted teeth. His hand has a strong grasp on his phone, almost snapping the thing in his fit of rage. 

"I don't know what to tell you man. Maybe someone followed you?" Kieran, the ever daft creator that makes spicy content with his friend Luke, tells him in the kindest voice he can must up. He knows just as well as Sylus that the man is impossibly popular. It all happened overnight just a year or two ago when he made a video humping a pillow and groaning praises to a nonexistant partner. Ever since then, he's been making content solo. It's doing much better than his partnered stuff used to.  

It also came with unwanted attention. Sylus lives for the praises and truly feral comments on his socials and spicy content, but this. This goes too far. It's the third time in as many years he's been doxed. If it were a stalked he could go to the police but it seems to be someone different each time. 

Sylus groans and runs a hand through his hair. 'I should move further away this time.' 

"That's the understatement of the century. Just be glad they haven't got your name yet." 

Yet. The word rings in Sylus’ head for a little longer than he would like it to. If those feral women and men got his name, he would never get any peace again. Sure, he was the one that decided to put his face in all those videos and that might've been stupid. It is stupid. Especially for someone who likes his privacy as much as Sylus does. 

"Oh, Luke just said he knows a place for you. He has a friend who owns an apartment ages away from your place. He's been looking for someone to lease it to." 

'I can trust this person?' 

"Yes, for sure. I know this guy too. He's some flamboyant artist that owns too many properties to keep track of who lives where." Sylus sighs, a rumble going through his chest. 

'Fine, get me the contact info.' 

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'You doing anything fun this weekend,' your friend and colleague Tara asks with a sweet smile. You almost spill and tell her, but she's far too pure to understand any of your desires. It'd be better to keep this friendship as wholesome as it is. 

'Nothing much. I don't have any plans for once. I'm probably going to binge that TV show you recommended.' 

'Oooh, tell me what you think about it,' she replies excitedly. At that moment, a car honks, and she looks up. Her lovely boyfriend is waiting for her in the car. 'See you soon,' she says with a quick wave and off she goes. The man even gets out of the car to open the passenger door for her. Such a nice man. He waves to you and you nod back. You know him a little, but he never comes along to any company events or dinners. If you're not mistaken, his name is Kieran. Nice guy. 

You make your way to your car and drive home. Traffic is terrible but uneventful. All you can think about is sitting down on the couch at home and listening to whatever Red Crow has cooked up this time. 

Next

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Caught up

Masterlist Word count: 1k Sylus x Reader

Summary: Sylus disappeared and you've got no idea where he went.

Author's note: A short one to make up for the time I've been gone. I'm still moving. It's all going a little slower than expected. If all goes well, I'll be at my new place by Monday.

It's been a year. A long year. A torturous year. A year since you last saw him. A year since he disappeared from your life in a cloud of red. 

Ever since then, you've been feeling strange, confused, dazed. Now and then you swear you feel someone looking at you, reaching out to touch you only to disappear when you turn to face them. It's something strange lurking from the shadows. 

Something strangely resembling him. 

Part of you thought he might've died, that it's his spirit reaching out for you, but you've seen him get shot... you were the one who shot him. He recovered just fine. 

Sylus is not a man who dies. 

He is a man who disappears for days on end only to come back to you with a few new scratches that he claims he couldn't heal with a shit eating grin on his face, almost daring you to call him out. That's the thing though. Normally it's days, not a full year. 

No calls from unknown numbers, no cryptic texts, no Mephisto, no Luke and Kieran. Nothing. You've tried going to the N109 zone, but every time you got close you felt all turned around and couldn't find it. The whole situation is strange. It's not like a city can suddenly move. 

And now this man has the gall to sit in your living room, battered and bruised but still as cocky and confident as ever, and smile at you?! You must be going crazy. 

'What are you doi-' You can't even finish your sentence. It seems Sylus kept his composure until he saw you. His whole body collapses the second the door closes. You rush to his side and push him back against the couch. His eyes tell you his mind is dancing on the line between consciousness and unconsciousness. 

'I've missed you.' The way he speaks, it doesn't sound like him. It sounds like he's been screaming for days until his throat went raw, like he's been crying out for weeks, like he's been tortured. Could that be it? Was he captured?  

In the corner of your eye, you see his hand move up to your face. It looks strenuous for him. You gently take his wrist in your hand and move his hand to your face, nuzzling into it to pretend he's doing this all by himself. You know how much he needs to feel like he's still strong at a time like this. 

'Where did you go?' 

'Didn't go anywhere,' he tells you, every word seeming to take as much energy as running a marathon, 'was caught. Need you.' 

You nod your head. Never has Sylus ever asked for your help like this, not when he's this hurt. But when you get up to go get your med kit, his hand suddenly clasps around your wrist. With his strength gone, he almost yanks himself off the couch with your movements. 'I'm just getting some stuff to help you. I'll be back in a second,' you reassure him. He tries to nod, but he can barely lift his head. 

When you look at him now, truly look at him, your heart shatters. Your big bad man, the infamous leader of Onychinus, your dragon reduced to this. But now is no time for tears, now is the time to help him become himself again. 

Feeling truly terrified for Sylus’ health and wellbeing speeds you up like nothing else. Within seconds you're back by his side with your medical supplies spread out on the coffee table. You take off his blouse and he tries to smirk and say something clever, but no words leave his mouth. There's just a strange lobsided smile on his lips that makes you worry even more. 

Minutes tick away until they become hours, but it feels like forever until you finally finish patching him up. You tried getting him to drink some water and eat some food, but it was all too much for him. If only you knew when the last time he ate or drank was so it could ease your mind. Sadly, Sylus is not talking. He's barely conscious. 

Miraculously, you managed to get him into your bed and stripped down to his boxers so that he could be comfortable. The night seems to go on forever as you watch him sleep. Every breath he takes makes you ever so slightly relieved. Watching his chest rise and fall while fighting sleep becomes almost impossible. The sound of his soft snores is almost hypnotic, and you quickly find yourself drifting off.  

When you wake again, the sun is already up. You notice you're much warmer than you were last night and when you open your eyes, Sylus is looking straight back at you. His eyes are surprisingly clear for someone who looked like he was on death's door last night. It's a sharp contrast from the man you see in front of you right now. 

Though you can tell he's still not fully recovered, sleep has done him wonders. The bruises and cuts in his face cleared up and he seems like he's doing fine. Most importantly, he's holding you in his arms, something that you were longing for a whole year. 'What's my diagnosis, miss hunter?' He saw you checking him. Apparently, he's got the strength to banter with you again. 

'Surprising recovery,' you mumble as you snuggle closer to him, 'but that's nothing special when it's you.' Shit, you've missed this so much. His warmth, his touch, his voice. If you could, you would stay here forever to make up for the year he was gone. At the same time you want to scream at him for leaving you, but you knew what you signed up for when you got into a relationship with him. Though a year was a little ridiculous, he did come home. He did come back to you. 

'I've missed you,' he coos, wrapping his arms around you tighter. Almost as if he's trying to force your body to merge with his. 'And I owe you an explanation.' 

'Explanations can come later. Just hold me.' 

'That I can most certainly do.' 

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[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Proper Etiquette Chapter 5, Proposal Day

Masterlist Word count: 1.5k Xavier x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your family is rich. Filthy rich. So rich that they bought titles for themselves and their children. Sadly, your parents want their titles to mean something and have an arranged marriage lined up for you. You told them you’d agree to it if you were allowed to live as a “commoner” for two years and if you’d find someone you loved who would marry you, you could. Surprisingly, they agreed. Only downside is that that deal was made 18 months ago and you really do not want to go back to that life.  

Author's note: Sorry for the long wait. I am moving, so the next one is probably gonna take a minute also. I hope ya'll like this one <3

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains swear words, talk of violence, talk of trauma, mentions of alcohol, drinking, and smoking, sex, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

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Sunday was a strange day. It had confused you, consumed your every thought from that day on, made you feel strangely secure with Xavier. From that day on, his hands were barely not on you. It's as if his hands are stuck to you.  

Not that it bothers you. You like having his hands on your hips while you cook for him, and he leans his head on your shoulder. You like holding his hand while he walks you home from work. Most of all, you like how he holds you so tightly when you go to sleep together. 

The only thing that bothers you is that you want more. You crave more. You want his kisses, his touch on your skin instead of over your clothes, his most intimate moments. In the span of just a few days, you started feeling like you couldn't do anything without him. Your love grew so much that you feel your ribcage is losing a fight against your heart. 

'Are you still there?' Jeremiah's voice pulls you out of your thoughts. He had been yapping for a while now and you mind had wondered off to Xavier as it had many, many times since you met him. 

'I am.' 

Jeremiah leans in, his eyes a little worried. 'What's going on with you? You've been spacing out all day.' 

'I'm falling for Xavier,' you admit, as you could only admit to a good friend like Jeremiah, with tears in your eyes, 'and at this point I don't know if this marriage is still fake to me. I can see us being really happy together, but I don't know how he feels.' 

'Oh, darling,' Jeremiah coos and stretches his arms out to pull you into him. What makes it all the more confusing is that today is supposed to the proposal day. Jeremiah is supposed to pretend to bring you somewhere without you knowing and Thomas will film the whole thing to show to family and friends. 

'This is getting too real.' 

'I mean, you've got some time to make him fall for you,' there's something strange in his voice, like he knows something you don't. You pull out of the hug and look at him. 

'What did he say?' 

'As his friend, I can't tell you.' 

'He hates me,' you state, hoping it'll persuade him to tell you. Jeremiah just scoffs a laugh. 

'Please. He likes you more than he likes me.' He quickly slaps his hand in front of his mouth, but you hear enough. Well, enough to make sure that he doesn't hate you, but it still doesn't tell you anything about his romantic feelings. 

You had helped him write his speech for the proposal, told him about silly things you do that someone might fall in love with, explained what you imagined your perfect proposal would look like. Somewhere in your mind you fear that he might copy paste the whole thing. That would certainly tell you that he doesn’t have feelings for you. Or it could mean that he likes you a lot. Enough to do everything you want him to do. 

It's a weird paradox that you can't really get yourself out of. Jeremiah, however, does have his ways of getting you out of your doubts. 'Come on, go touch up your makeup. We're heading out in a few.' 

Without complaining you do as he says. He follows you into the bathroom, trying to hype you up with some music that you usually play when before you two go out clubbing together. Things like "Drup", "Bubblegum Bitch", "Maneater", "Djadja", and "Sterrenstof." Things to get you pumped up. Eventually, you end up laughing and dancing in the bathroom while you do some touch ups and check your outfit one last time. 

Eventually, you end up walking towards the spot with Jeremiah. However, you've already passed the spot you suggested to Xavier so maybe he did make some changes. That's when you realize you're walking in a circle. A big circle, yes, but you're slowly heading back to the apartment. 'Did you forget something at the apartment?' 

'No, I'm just trying to stretch time,' Jeremiah tells you, 'I got a text from Thomas that they're not quite done yet.' 

'Not quite done yet? Did they do something really elaborate?' 

'You'll just have to wait and see, don't you.' 

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'This is the last of them,' Thomas announces as he places the last flower vase in the living room. Xavier nods contently. 

'Great, then it's just the garlands,' Xavier states, pulling a bag with decorations up onto the table. Thomas looks surprised and a little taken aback. 

'I thought she asked for a simple beach proposal,' he questions. 

Xavier starts unpacking the bag and handing things to Thomas. 'She did, but we watched a k-drama recently that had a proposal in their own apartment. She awed over it for hours.' Thomas has a strange, knowing smile on his face. 

'You like her, don't you?' Xavier stiffens up, a blush spreading on his cheeks. 'I knew it,' Thomas shouts triumphantly, 'I told Jeremiah! Oh, this is great. You two would be so good together.' 

'You really think so?' 

'I know so. Can't you see how she looks at you? She's head over heels, man,' Thomas almost screams in Xavier's face, but Xavier doesn't mind. His thoughts are somewhere else. Somewhere between the nights he spends holding you and the way you smile at him when he talks to you. Then, Thomas’ phone dings. After checking it, he suddenly looks rushed, 'they're ten minutes away!' 

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You unlock the door to your apartment, yapping to Jeremiah about the flower shop and the fact that someone else is probably running it into the ground right now. To which Jeremiah doesn't disagree which worries you a bit. Then you suddenly realize your whole apartment is awfully quiet. Jeremiah isn't talking to you anymore, but before you can turn back to ask him what's going on, you've already stepped into the living room in awe. 

The whole place is covered in flowers and garlands. It's absolutely stunning. In the middle of it is Xavier with a big smile on his face. He reaches out for you and you take his hand. When you do, he sinks down on one knee and takes a little box out of his pocket. 

'My starlight, we've been together for some time now and I feel like the moment is here to take the next step. So, here it goes,' he says and he takes a deep breath. For a second, you think he's going to take out a note with his speech, but he doesn't. He looks up at you like you're made of stardust, as if you're the only thing in existence in the whole wide world. Your heart is beating out of your chest and you can't help the smile spreading on your face. Then he opens the box and starts speaking again. 

'I love how you pretend to hate the snacks I like so that I can have them all without feeling bad. I love how you reach for me when I get home and ask me about my day even if I can see that you've had a bad day. I love hearing your voice sing along to the music you play when you're cooking.   Most of all, I love having you around. It's refreshing to come home to someone who cares about me and wants to do everything with me. Even if I just want to take a nap and you want to read a book. I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else.   Will you marry me?' 

You nod enthusiastically and look down in the little box to see... not a ring. A necklace. Xavier notices your confusion and gets up. He takes the necklace out of the box and moves behind you to help you put it on. 'I noticed you don't wear rings and I don't want to force you to wear one,' he explains gently, 'I had this necklace made for you. The charm is able to hold your wedding ring if you choose to wear it that way instead of on your finger.' 

The kind gesture makes you tear up. As far as you know, this is fake to him but the gesture is too kind to be fake. It's too thoughtful, too sweet, too... Xavier. It's just him. It's so him that it makes you want to bawl your eyes out. 

In the surge of the moment, you turn around, take his face in your hands, and press a lingering kiss to his lips. He doesn't fight it, simply puts his hands on your waist and holds you. 

Suddenly, you hear clapping, and you realize Jeremiah is still here. And apparently, Thomas is here too. 'Congratulations,' Jeremiah cheers as the two of you separate, a bright blush on both of your faces. 

This is it. Now you're stuck with him, but you don't regret it one bit. 

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[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Fun story,

I was suddenly able to move to a different apartment, which is great.

It also means I am in the middle of a move and everything is all over the place and I have no time to write. I'll probably still be busy with the move next week but with a little bit of luck I'll be settled and able to keep posting.

Have a great week everyone! <3

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

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[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

could you pretty please add me to future posts of love and deepspace 🫶💕

For sure. All of them or do you want to be tagged for a specific character?

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Be mine

Masterlist Word count: Zayne 1.3k, Xavier 1.1k, Rafayel 750 words, Sylus 1.3k, Caleb 360 words (I'm sorry, I'm still getting used to Caleb and don't really know how to write for him yet.)

Established relationship, domestic bliss.

Summary: It's Valentines day! (Yes, I know I'm late :"( I had work on the 14th and 15th. I am a bartender and it's been insane those days. Almost broke my back carrying kegs and boxes of wine.)

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Zayne

It's early in the morning when you feel Zayne stir. The sun hasn't even risen yet, but even on this Valentines day he has work. He presses a kiss to your forehead and a groan escapes you when the heater next to you leaves the bed to go take a shower.

'Zayne,' you call out, your voice cracking slightly from the sleep that's still impacting you. The matress sinks on his side of the bed. Without opening your eyes, you turn towards him. 'I don't get a proper kiss on Valentines day?'

You can feel him smile as he presses his lips against yours. Drowsily, you put one hand in his hair in a desperate attempt to keep him here with you. 'I love you, darling. I'll see you after work.'

'Love you too. Let me know if you get tied up in work.' It's a silent agreement between the two of you. His job is important, his work is important, and you know that. You also know he feels incredibly responsible for his patients.

At the start of your relationship, it took a little getting used to but by now you're more than accustomed to celebrating holidays before of after their actual date. You don't mind anymore as long as you get to spend time with your snowman, but he always seems to feel a little guilty about it.

You wish you could wipe that guilt from his mind, but that's a part that he keeps locked up. Even for you. You'll get there someday, but not today, not tomorrow, and maybe not even next year. That doesn't matter to you. After all, you've got the remainder of your lifetimes to find out every detail about him.

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Hours later, just as you expected, you get a call from Zayne explaining that they've got an influx of patients. He has to stay. Just like every other holiday. People do such insane things on holidays. It used to bother you, but you're just glad they've got such a talented doctor to take care of them.

You promised him to bring him dinner and sit down with him. Now, at the time that your reservation was supposed to be, you're strolling into the hospital with a homemade dinner and some desserts. The lady at the check in desk gives you a pitiful smile but you pay it little mind.

'Is Zayne in his office?'

'He might be. He just finished up with a patient so it might take him a few minutes,' she answers.

'Alright, can you let him know that I've got his dinner for him?' She nods and you take a seat in the waiting area next to a mother with a little boy that seems in a lot of pain. He looks over at you, looking strangely proud.

'I made my momma dinner,' he proudly exclaims. His mother almost bursts out laughing through her worry.

'You did? Then why are you here,' you question with excited curiosity to keep the kid engaged. He shows you his bright red hands. One of his fingers is bandaged up tightly with a kitchen towel.

'I cut my finger and grabbed a pot without gloves,' he tells you.

'Ovenmits,' his mother corrects.

'Ovenmits,' he repeats enthusiastically. You chuckle and put the bag with food on your lap. Rummaging through it to find the container with cookies you originally brought to give to Zayne to share.

'Well, if you don't get to have your Valentines dinner, I think you deserve a treat, right?'

'Oh, no thank you, we couldn't,' his mother quickly says with a gentle smile.

'Nonsense,' you answer with a big smile, 'I know it's not the most ideal to spend Valentines day in the hospital. Believe me, my husband is the head cardiac surgeon here.' You hand the container of cookies over to the woman who opens it for her son and lets him pick a cookie.

'You're bringing him food?'

'Yes, we're having dinner together on his break.'

'That's nice,' the woman smiles. Just then, a figure appears in front of you. You look up to see your wonderful boyfriend standing in front of you with a smile. 'Is this him?'

'Yes, this is Doctor Zayne,' you introduce him to the mother and the little kid munching on his cookie. 'Zayne, love, could you check him out quickly? He's got a cut.'

'Of course,' he replies with a kind smile and he kneels down in front of the kid, 'what seems to be the problem?'

'I cooked dinner for my mom,' he exclaims proudly. His mother shakes her head with a smile, her arm around the kid.

'He wanted to surprise me because I don't have a partner,' she explains quickly.

'That's real thoughtful of you,' Zayne says to the kid, 'next time maybe ask mom for help. Can you show me your hands?'

The kid opens his palms for Zayne, but there's a frown on his face. 'But then it won't be a surprise.'

'How about you make her a card next time? And then you can write in the card that you want to cook together. After all, Valentines day is about spending time with people you love.' You don't miss how Zayne looks up at you for a second. 'The burn isn't too bad. Some ointment should do the trick. It'll lessen in a week. Now how about that cut?'

'It's quite deep,' the mother warns. Zayne nods.

'Then how about we go to my office and I'll go see if you need stitches,' Zayne offers. The boy nods. 'Are you alright waiting a little longer, darling?'

'She can come with us,' the boy chimes in, 'I like her. She gave me cookies.' Zayne chuckles.

'Are you alright with that too,' he asks the mother. She shrugs.

'I don't mind.'

They're in and out within a few minutes. The cut wasn't too deep so Zayne glued it with instructions to keep it dry. He gave the kid some surgical gloves to use in the shower and showed him how to wash his hands without getting it wet. You quite liked watching him work like that.

Together, you waved the two goodbye at the reception and walked back to his office hand in hand.

'So when were you going to tell me we got married,' Zayne asks with a cheeky look on his face as he shuts the door behind you.

'Hm? What?'

'You called me your husband.'

'Oh,' you feel your cheeks burn, 'I guess it just slipped out.' He smiles and sits down with you at his desk while you dish out the food. There's a strangely happy look in his eyes that you can't quite place.

'You know,' he says as he reaches into the top drawer of his desk, 'I was going to do this at dinner, but this is as good a time as any.'

'What?' He puts a little velvet box in front of you.

'You've been with me through so much. More than you deserve to endure. You allow me to do my job without judging me for missing out on so many special moments. Instead, you create those moments for me. I could not ask for a better person to share this life with.' He takes the box and opens it, showing you a stunning ring. Then, he takes your hand, walks around his desk to you, and takes a knee in front of you. 'Will you do me the honor of being my wife?'

A huge grin spreads on your lips while tears start collecting in your eyes. With your free hand, you reach out to touch his face. 'You know, I always did prefer our private holiday celebrations.'

'Is that a yes?'

'It is.'

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Xavier

'Xavier? Are you ready?' He hears your voice loud and clear through the bedroom door. You had come over to his on impulse so you two could walk to the restaurant together. Only problem is, he was planning on picking you up and giving himself some more time to stop his nerves from racing.

Now, he's in the bedroom with a bad excuse. He told you he had forgotten something or didn't do something. He can't even remember clearly. What Xavier does know is that he looks a mess. His reflection looks the worst he has ever seen it, though he knows it's probably all in his head he can't shake it.

Can't shake that you deserve better, that you deserve someone else, someone that is not him. You deserve the absolute world, the universe, someone who could give you everything. That's just not him.

He's introverted, prefers to stay home with you but completely willing to go out if you ask. His days are spend taking it easy when he doesn't have work and he likes it that way, but sometimes he doubts if you don't want something more exciting.

Today out of all days, he should know that it's just his insecurities talking. He had already asked you to be his Valentine while walking home together last night and you said yes so enthusiastically. In fact, you had jumped him and the two of you fell into a fresh layer of snow in front of your apartment building.

'Xavier?' Your voice is almost like a blur to him now. He's so damn stuck in his own mind, in his own thoughts, in his own feelings. The little velvet box in his pocket feels like it holds the weight of the world.

One thing he does know for sure is that he wants this, wants you. Forever. He could just sit on the couch with you for the rest of his life and he would die a happy man.

Now he just has to ask if you want the same, but it's the asking part he gets stuck on. Last Valentines day was the same. He's had this ring for over a year. Originally, he had wanted to ask you on new years which turned into Valentines day, which turned into Easter, which turned into all the other holidays there are and now he's back at Valentines day. It isn't funny, but it kind of is.

'Xavier, are you alright?' The bedroom door opens ever so slightly as you peak your head around the corner. 'We've got a reservation.'

'I know, I'm just-' He can't find the words, his hands are clammy, he feels so damn nervous. Maybe you can't tell, maybe he can hold out until dinner, but then what happens if he backs out again?

You step into the room, towards him, and reach out for his hand. 'Xavier, love, we don't have to go if you're not feeling well. There's enough other days to go out for dinner together.'

'No, I feel fine. I want to take you out,' he tells you, a little more secure now. You take his hand and reach your other hand out to turn his head towards you. When he looks down at you, all he sees is the love you hold for him.

'It's fine. Really,' you assure him, 'I'm just as happy ordering in. As long as I get to spend the day with you.'

He takes a second to take you in. You look absolutely stunning. Yesterday you had teased him that you got a new dress and it was pink. Nothing could've prepared him for the dress you walked in with. It knocked the wind right out of him. You matched your nails to your dress and had your makeup done lightly.

'I love you.' The little words slip out so easily and they make you smile. That's enough for him. Maybe he doesn't need a fancy dinner, he doesn't need a holiday, he doesn't need a reason to ask. It's just you and it's just him. That's enough.

'I love you too,' you respond and get up on your tiptoes to ask for a kiss. He leans down and presses his lips against yours. A short, but loving peck. Your lip-gloss on his lips always makes you giggle a little. Not because it looks weird, but it's strangely intimate. Same with your lipstick.

'You know,' Xavier says as he puts his hand in his pocket, 'I've been wanting to ask you this for over a year now.' You watch as he gets on one knee, one hand still holding yours, the other holding a little box. A small gasp escapes you.

'Xavier-'

'Please, let me ask first.' You nod as tears fill your eyes. 'For the last few years you have made my life brighter, made me brighter. I literally glow around you. No one has ever made me feel that way. Two years ago, after Christmas with our friends, we went to bed together and you reminded me to drink some water before I went to sleep. Don't ask me why, but that's when I knew I wanted to ask you this. I've been trying to gather the courage and today I wanted to ask you at the restaurant but I just realized we don't need all that. Because I love you most because you love me for who I am. You don't ask me to put on a mask, don't force me out of my comfort zone while you do tease me every once in a while, you don't expect me to be something I'm not. You make me want to be the best version of myself for you and I love you so much for that. Will you marry me?'

He doesn't get an answer. Instead, you start laughing as you take a knee with him, reach inside the pocket of your dress and pull out a similar velvet box.

'You're kidding.'

'I'm not,' you laugh, 'I've also had it for over a year.' The shock slowly wears off and he starts laughing with you. You jump towards him, arms around his neck and you end up laughing on the floor together. Kisses and giggles are exchanged until the laughter finally dies down.

'Maybe we should just go to the courthouse tomorrow. Make sure we've got that covered too,' you suggest with a grin.

'I wouldn't be opposed to that. I'd finally get to call you my wife.'

'Should we cancel our reservation and order in?' His hands grab your face and he starts playfully leaving kisses all over your face. 'Xavier, stop that,' you laugh.

'You can't just say stuff like that. I can't marry you faster!'

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Rafayel

Rafayel has been wanting to propose to you for months and you've known that for months, but you don't want to rush him. However, getting extra dolled up for all special things he invites you to just in case he proposes and someone films it is getting tiresome.

And so, for this Valentines Day, you asked him to just stay home together. Spend some time on the couch, playing some games, ordering in some food. Just have a day of just the two of you and he happily obliged.

Now, as the sun is setting and you sit on the patio looking out on the beach together, you feel truly at ease. This day is the last day Rafayel would propose to you. He likes the grandeur of having something unique. He won't want to share his engagement day with some holiday you figure.

'Let's do one typical thing today,' you suggest with a satisfied smile. He looks over at you curiously. 'A walk on the beach?'

He hesitates to speak, no words able to form in his mouth. You don't know if you've just said something wrong or if he was so lost in this moment that he forgets to respond. That happens from time to time when he's painting, could be the same thing now.

'What? Are you waiting for the tide to change or something,' you question with a giggle and a playful nudge to his shoulder. That seems to wake him up. He rolls his eyes, a soft smirk playing on his lips.

'Maybe I'm just enjoying the sunset from here.' You raise and eyebrow and cross your arms.

'Oh really? Who are you and what have you done to my boyfriend?'

'What do you mean,' he laughs, 'I can't enjoy the sea from afar?'

'You've never said no to a beach walk with me before.' He breathes out a laugh and gets up, reaching out to you to take his hand. when you do, he starts running down to the shoreline. You're being dragged along in his long strides and you doubt you've ever ran this fast.

Just as he looks over his shoulder to look at your infectious smile, he trips and the both of you tumble into the sand. It covers you, slipping into places it really shouldn't be, but you keep laughing nonetheless. He reaches out for you again and shakes some sand out of your hair. You return the favour happily.

When he gets up, he holds out his hand for you again to pull you up. Just as you're halfway up, you notice his eyes are on something in the sand. You look down to see a little velvet box. When he realizes what it is, he lets go and you fall on your butt in the sand again.

Before he can grab it, you've already put your hand over it. His eyes meet yours again, the sparkle of mischief reflected in both of your eyes while a grin pulls onto his lips. His hand slips underneath yours, taking the box before you can wrap your hand around it. Then, he pounced on you, leaning down on his elbows to hold up his weight while keeping his face impossibly close to yours.

'Such an impatient little fishy,' he teases as he leans down to press a kiss on your lips, 'now that you know my plan, will you run away?'

You reach out to touch his face. Despite his confident words, his eyes are full of fear. Fear that he might've read this all wrong, fear that you aren't ready, fear that you do not want this. 'I've been waiting for you to ask. So get to asking.'

The biggest smile spreads on his lips as he pulls you back up. When he's got you standing, he kneels down in front of you with the sand covered velvet box in his hands. 'Will you marry me?'

'Yes. A million times yes,' you almost squeal. Now it is your turn to pounce on him, pushing him into the sand whilst peppering his face with kisses.

'If I knew this would be my future, I would've asked earlier,' he laughs.

'Good thing we've got the rest of our lives to catch up.'

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Sylus

You: "Why did you send me a ring size thingy?"

Sylus: "Do you want to spoil your birthday surprise?"

You: "Yes?"

Sylus: "I saw a jewelry set I think would look good on you. I need your ring size to make sure you'll be able to wear it."

But your birthday came and went. Sylus did give you a jewelry set but there was no ring. That's when you became suspicious of his intentions. At first you considered a weapon that needed your ring size, but that sounded too strange. You then went through every single little thing that you could think off until only one thought stuck in your mind.

Did he want your ring size to get you an engagement ring?

When that thought embedded itself in your mind, you got an idea. What if you could get the jump on him? Propose before him. Get him surprised and flustered. It's not every day you get to see your man like that.

So, one night when he came over, you took out the ring sizer he got you, put it on the coffee table before he arrived, and, when he started asking about it, joking about it. Teasing him that he never did get you that ring and teasingly putting it on him to see what would fit.

Eventually, you told him that you were throwing it out as you had no real use for it. He grumbled in agreement, seemingly not too happy about you throwing such a useful tool to him away. When you teased him for his tone, he simply told you he doesn't like you throwing his gifts away. Fair enough, so you kept it.

A few weeks later, you bought him a simple silver band with an engraving on the inside. Just for his eyes.

"Your little crow, always."

Very cheesy, but you knew it'd make him smile. To make it even more cheesy, you decided that you'd propose on Valentines Day. He had asked you out to dinner a few nights before and dropped of a beautifully tailored dress this morning. Red. His color.

As the sun begins to set, you get ready for the night, hoping that you can call Sylus your husband, or at least your fiancé in the morning. The dress makes you feel a little cheeky. It is draped so nicely and shows off just enough skin to make it classy. There's no tag, so somewhere in your mind, you imagine him designing it for you.

And as always, Sylus is exactly on time. Not a minute too early, not a minute too late. You know he stands in front of your door waiting for the agreed-upon time because he doesn't want to rush you. That's one of those little things about him that make your heart swell with love.

'Evening sweetie, you look breathtaking,' Sylus compliments you with a kind smile, handing over a beautiful bouquet of flowers, vase included so that you don't have to rush finding one. You notice the vase is one he has given you before. One that disappeared recently after you told him that your vase collection was getting too big for your apartment and to please stop giving you vases. Such a sweet man.

'Thank you, Sylus,' you give him your clutch in exchange for the flowers, smile brightly and turn to put the vase on your dinner table, 'they're stunning.' You notice how they blend with your interior and style perfectly. Sylus is nothing if not detail-oriented.

'Are you ready?' You nod and turn on your heel when you see his hand clasp around your clutch. Your velvet clutch that doesn't have any structuring material. While you try to keep your face neutral, there is a proud grin on his face. One that could be because he's taking you out, or because he felt the little ring box in your clutch.

'I am,' you smile and reach out to take your clutch and replace it with your hand. He doesn't object, but does offer his arm instead of his hand. However, that doesn't fly with you. Not on Valentines Day.

Of course, the restaurant Sylus takes you to is in the Michelin Guide. It's one of those places that has no prices next to the cheaper wines, but the most expensive bottles are shown with their prices. However, Sylus picks his wine like old money does. Not the most expensive but based on good wine years, regions, soil, the grape itself, the winery, the blend. He knows his wine like he knows his music, and his picks are never wrong.

Today that means a 2016 Barolo Riserva from Piedmont, Italy. Not a particularly expensive wine (yet) but it is considered a wine that could get even better with time.

After the wine is poured and the courses slowly come and go, Sylus reaches out over the table to hold your hand before the dessert course. 'Happy Valentine's Day, Sweetie.'

You can't help but notice the playful glint in his eye. He knows something or is planning something. Either are suspicious to you, but you're not letting it ruin your night. In fact, those things might turn out very well for you.

'You too, Sylus. Thank you for this beautiful night. It's perfect,' you reply, leaning closer to the table, your heart racing with excitement. 'But I think we can make it even better.'

Sylus raises an eyebrow, his expression teasing yet curious. 'What did you have in mind, Kitten?'

Under the table your reach into your clutch and take the ring box in your free hand. 'You know, I really do hate that you call me your girlfriend,' you say, trying to sound serious but Sylus looks right through that, still grinning, 'I'd much rather be your wife.'

A flicker of surprise appears in his eyes when you put the box on the table and open it. A soft chuckle leaves his lips as he slips his hand into his pocket and puts another ring box on the table. When he opens it, you see a beautiful golden ring with rubies encrusted in the band. 'I know I've been stalling, but couldn't you have waited until dessert,' he teases.

Then, out comes the server with a huge display of desserts and at your side of the shared dessert, it says "Marry me?" in chocolate sauce letters. A huge smile spreads on your face. Sylus, the ever stoic boss of a criminal organisation, is a softy for you. Putty in your hands.

Your right hand is still intertwined with his left on the table. He brings it over to him and gently pushes the ring on your finger. It fits perfectly, as expected. He then offers his hand to you, but you shake your head. 'I want you to read the engraving first.'

He takes the ring from its box and squints to read the engraving. 'Your little crow, always,' he reads aloud, his voice slightly wavering. He quickly clears his throat with a cough to regain his composure. He knows he doesn't need to do that around you, but habits are habits for a reason. 'That's beautiful, sweetheart. Thank you for this,' all the teasing and joking in his voice has fallen away. You're left with sincerity that makes his words embed itself into your mind, engrave themselves into your memories, and you don't ever want this memory to fade away.

'I love you, Sylus.'

'I love you too... my little crow.'

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Caleb

(I'm gonna admit this right here right now, I stole this from a Kdrama called Reset Couple. I just felt like it was very Caleb coded.)

It's early. Too early for you to leave the bed but early enough for you to be awake. Caleb left the bed a bit ago to get ready for his run before work. As soon as he left the bed, you turned to his side to bask in his body heat.

After a few minutes, Caleb climbs over top of you on the bed and leans down to press a kiss on your temple. You reach out your right hand to caress his cheek. 'You're going for your run?'

'Yes, and I've got work right after, but I'll be home for lunch.'

'Alright, take care of yourself,' you tell him and cuddle back into the sheets with your eyes long closed again. With a smile, he gets back up and strides out of the room looking a little too happy for a regular morning.

As you hear the bedroom door shut, you clench your hands to pull the covers closer and you feel something between your fingers. Your eyes flutter open again as you look down at your hand.

There's a ring on your ring finger. One that you don't recognize. It's a simple band with a little paper plane engraved in it. You rub against the metal with your thumb for a few seconds as you mind is slowly waking up.

Ring? On your ring finger?!

'Caleb?' You turn towards the door that is already closed. 'Caleb!' After a short fight with the covers you run after him. He's just about to leave as you pull him away from the door and shut it. There's a smug smile on his face as you turn around to face him and shove your hand in his face. 'What is this?'

'A ring?'

'What kind of ring is this?' He leans in a little, still towering over you but your noses nearly touching.

'You know exactly what kind of ring this is,' he tells you. Tears sting in your eyes as you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him close. He happily receives the hug, wrapping his arms around your waist. 'Happy Valentines Day, pip-squeak.'

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[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

So, I'm either creating a new character or shelving this. Time will tell...

[edit 07-02-25 00:40AMS] I just realized I might have to clarify that this prompt has nothing to do with the Proper Etiquette story I'm writing rn.

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

I'm working on a V-day fic, but I ran out of time, so it's coming tomorrow.

Hope ya'll have a fun day today!

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Proper Etiquette Chapter 4, Sunday kind of love

Masterlist Word count: 2.2k Xavier x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your family is rich. Filthy rich. So rich that they bought titles for themselves and their children. Sadly, your parents want their titles to mean something and have an arranged marriage lined up for you. You told them you’d agree to it if you were allowed to live as a “commoner” for two years and if you’d find someone you loved who would marry you, you could. Surprisingly, they agreed. Only downside is that that deal was made 18 months ago and you really do not want to go back to that life.  

Author's note: Knock, knock, it's me again mfs! Today I started a new medication and while I should be doing homework, it got me writing like a fucking maniac. I'm not sure if this chapter is any good cause my mind is acting a bit weird rn, but whatever. Enjoy! <3

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains swear words, talk of violence, talk of trauma, mentions of alcohol, drinking, and smoking, sex, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

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Xavier is barely through the door when you appear in front of him in the hallway. You look a little disheveled, very stressed, and extremely annoyed. He wants to say something, offer you the pastries he got, but you're faster. 

'Where did you go? I was stressed out of my mind,' you snap at him, 'I called you like ten times.' He notices there's tears in your eyes. It surprises him. You have every right to be mad at him, but for some reason you are close to tears. 

He takes a few steps towards you, puts the paper bag with the pastries and the flowers on the ground, and wraps his arms around you, guiding your head to lean against his shoulder. A few seconds tick by with your arms by your sides, fists balled, wanting to curse him out. 

Then... the dam breaks... Xavier feels your body shudder as quiet sobs start making their way out. Once the first few have slipped past, you wrap your arms around his waist and pull him as close as humanly possible, crying pathetically into his shirt. His perfectly white shirt. But Xavier doesn't say a word, he just holds you. No judgement, no anger, no hesitation, and then... and apology. 

'I'm sorry for leaving without telling you and I'm sorry for not answering your calls.' His words sound sincere and fragile. Like it would break him if you wouldn't forgive him. It's strangely comforting in a way to know he cares that much. 

'I'm sorry for snapping at you.' 

'No, you had every right to,' he disagrees. You pull your head away from his chest and look up at him, feeling a little confused. All your life you had been told that your anger is not valid, your feelings are not valid, they are unimportant. All you were good for is marrying rich. The confused look in your face urges him to explain: 'You were worried. You woke up in an empty apartment without knowing where I went before an important appointment. I'd be more surprised if you hadn't snapped at me.  Lucky for me, I brought a peace offering.' 

He lets go of you and picks up the things he got again. You follow him to the kitchen table where he lays down two bouquets of flowers and the paper bag. 'Why'd you get flowers?' 

'I thought it'd be a nice gesture to get your mother flowers, but then I remembered that it would look weird if I gave her flowers and we didn't have flowers here because that would imply I hadn't given you flowers,' he starts rambling in that calm, gentle voice of his while he grabs one of the two bouquets. It's a blue, pastel purple, and white bouquet with plenty of forget-me-not's and baby's-breath. A beautiful bouquet. Then he smiles at you and hands them over. 'So, these are the flowers for my beautiful girlfriend. And those are for your mother.' 

The bouquet he picked for your mother is much more basic. It's beautiful and very nicely done, but it isn't personalized like the one he gave you is. 

'Oh, and I got some pastries for breakfast and also some smaller things like bonbons to go with the tea and coffee for your parents.' You stand in absolute awe with the bouquet in your arms as you look at Xavier fussing over everything. He's looking for two vases, grabbing some plates for breakfast, getting the both of you something to drink. It's all so natural and kind. There's this warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest that you can't seem to get rid of. 

As if on autopilot, you walk over to Xavier and take his hand. His movements still as he looks down at you, looking a little surprised. You reach your hand behind his neck and pull him down to press a kiss on his cheek. 'You are the best Xavier.' 

You take the vase from the counter and put it on the kitchen table, starting to put your bouquet in there with a gleaming smile on your face. Xavier watches the scene, his mouth agape from the sudden kiss, his heart pounding in his chest.  

There you are, his future wife... He wishes he was only thinking about the fake marriage, but he really isn't. He just knows, one way or another, you are his future wife. In another life, you might've made it here more naturally, might've dated a while, might've lived together for years, but either way you are his wife. 

You dart around the table, putting the flowers in one by one, examining each side of the bouquet you're slowly building in the vase with meticulous precision. You're still dressed in your pajamas, which is an oversized men's shirt. A few nights ago you told him they're just more comfortable and since then he hasn't stopped thinking about offering you his shirts. 

'You're staring,' you hum without even looking at him. He picks his jaw up from the floor and returns to his fussing over breakfast. 

'I like watching you work.' It just slips out and now it's out there. He looks over his shoulder to see that you've stopped whilst putting a flower in, holding it halfway in the vase as you look at him with a smile. When your eyes meet, you continue. 

'Thank you, I quite like my work.' Another few counts of silence, only filled by the rustling of the flowers and Xavier's breakfast preparations. 'By the way, how did you get flowers on Sunday morning?' 

'Called in a favor with Jeremiah,' he answers, trying to sound casual. A huff of laughter leaves your lips. 'What?' 

'You two must be extremely good friends. I've never known him to get out of bed for anything on Sunday before noon.' 

'We are. Known each other since diapers.' 

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'Hi mom, hi dad,' you greet your parents at the door with a kiss to the cheek and show them inside. Xavier is waiting right in the living room, greeting them right after you and introducing himself as your boyfriend. 

As of right now, the plan is to have tea and halfway through, Xavier will ask your father if they could talk privately for a second. Which his when he will apologize for being a private person and ask for your hand in marriage. A fool proof plan from the start. Especially with Xavier wowing you mother with the flowers he got her. 

'How wonderful to meet you. I have to say, she has told us very little about you,' your mother awes, but the comment about you is razor sharp. Nothing surprising to you, you doubt your mother ever really liked you, but you see a small change in Xavier's composure. First it's distain, and then it's understanding. As if he now realizes why you want to leave them behind. 

'I must admit, that is my fault,' he says with a kind smile, 'I have always been a very private person and I asked her to respect that until I was ready.' Your father pats his shoulder roughly and nods in agreement. 

'Seems a fair boundary,' he says, shutting your mother up, 'we're glad to finally meet you.' 

'As am I,' Xavier agrees, 'let me get something to drink for you. Tea, coffee, soda?' 

'Green tea,' your mother says like she's ordering at a restaurant. No please, no thank you. Your father nods to indicate he'd like green tea too. 

'And you, starlight?' Your mother's eyes almost pop out of her skull at the casual use of the affectionate nickname. You were raised to be very proper, which means no other names were permitted. Well, maybe some, but most were looked down upon as weakness. 

'The same for me, thank you.' Xavier makes the tea while small talk flows easily between all of you. With the tray of tea and bonbons in hand, Xavier steers everyone towards the couch and chairs. 

Everyone takes a seat and you hand out the tea, putting the last cup in front of yourself. Your butt has barely made contact with the couch when the berating questions begin. Seems your mother has a lot to catch up on after not seeing you for such a long time. 

'Sweetie, I understood you wanting to live a civil life but this? Can you even live here with two people? How could you even want this? Sweetie, are you eating well? I can tell. How about we get you a personal trainer, yeah? How does that sound?'  

As usual, your father does little to calm your mother or stop her questions. You're used to it by now. However, Xavier is not. You had tried to explain your mother to him before but he seems to get a little annoyed with each question she asks. 

'Mother, don't mistake this for talking back, but I am quite happy here. I don't need anything else,' you answer, looking at your father instead of your mother in hopes he'll understand your decision. There's something sad in his eyes. You had seen it before but it has gotten bigger since you last saw him. 

'Well, at least it's almost over.' That snaps something inside you and your father can tell. He gestures Xavier to come with him. The two men leave the room quietly with their cups of tea in hand while you stare down your mother. Xaver has barely closed the door when he hears you shout something like: "Why can't you ever be happy for me?" 

Your father lets out a deep sigh and grabs Xavier's shoulder for a gentle squeeze. 'Those two have never gotten along. I know you wanted to invite us to introduce yourself, but next time it's better to pick a public place. My wife will keep sweet when her reputation is on the line.' 

'That's awful.' He nods in response, looking physically pained by the situation. 

'I know, but that's the only solution,' he sighs, 'I'm glad she found you. She looks happier than I've ever seen her.' 

'About that-' Your father perks up, looking at Xavier with hopeful eyes. 'I was going to ask for your blessi-' He puts his hand on Xavier's shoulder again, squeezing a little harder this time. 

'Yes,' he says without hesitation, 'yes, you can marry my daughter.' Xavier is taken aback to say the very least. He thought this would at least be an interrogation. 

'Sir, you barely know me.' 

'But I know my daughter,' he says very seriously, 'and she looked the happiest I have ever seen her when we walked in. The fact that you are willing to question my decision tells me enough. I believe you are genuine, so yes, I give you my blessing.' 

'I- I don't know what to say... Thank you, sir.' 

'Don't thank me. I should thank you for making my daughter happy. Here, let me give you my number. I'd like to contribute to the ring.' 

'But sir-' 

'No. I don't want to hear how long you saved up for it. I want to help.' 

'I'm not getting her a ring,' Xavier says to clearify the situation. 

'What?' 

'She never wears rings. She told me she hates them. I'm getting her a necklace that can hold her wedding ring,' he explains. Xavier doesn't think he's ever seen a grown man smile that wide in his whole damn life. 

'I am so happy she found you.' 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

With the tea mugs empty and the shouting match calmed down, the two men slip inside again. Your mother is fussing while putting on her coat while you are packing up some of the chocolates for them to take with your face calm, but your eyes like thunderclouds. 

Xavier walks over to you and places his hand gently on your wrist. You stop what you're doing and turn your hand so he can slide his hand into yours. With your fingers entangled, he brings the back of your hand to his lips and presses a kiss on it. You feel your anger melt like snow in the sun and you can't help but smile. 

'You did great,' he whispers in your ear, 'let me do this for you.' You step aside and let him finish wrapping up the chocolates. As you reenter the living room part of the open apartment, your father steps toward you and wraps his arms around you. You accept the hug enthusiastically. Hugs from your father are something you haven't been able to indulge in since you left. 

'You found a great one,' he whispers to you, ever the romantic. And for a second, it all feels so real. Your father likes Xavier, you like Xavier, Xavier helped you calm down to stay amicable with your parents, your mother fought with you and Xavier did not like it. It all seems so normal, so natural, so real. It's only been a few days and you're not sure if you're acting anymore. 

But what if Xavier is just a great actor. What if this really is fake to him? What will you do then? Stay in a loveless marriage like your father? That'd be insane. However, those are worries for tomorrow. 

Today, you just have to show your parents the door and wave them goodbye. 

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[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Proper Etiquette Chapter 3, Favors

Masterlist Word count: 1.5k Xavier x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your family is rich. Filthy rich. So rich that they bought titles for themselves and their children. Sadly, your parents want their titles to mean something and have an arranged marriage lined up for you. You told them you’d agree to it if you were allowed to live as a “commoner” for two years and if you’d find someone you loved who would marry you, you could. Surprisingly, they agreed. Only downside is that that deal was made 18 months ago and you really do not want to go back to that life.  

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains swear words, talk of violence, talk of trauma, mentions of alcohol, drinking, and smoking, sex, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

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'Should we have nicknames for each other?' His words surprise you. For all of the late afternoon, there had been a quiet lull over the room. It's Friday and the both of you made sure you had the weekend off to prepare for your parents’ visit on Sunday, but somehow you found yourself reading on the couch with Xavier on top of you. 

You are resting your back against the armrest of the couch, Xavier has his head on your stomach and his arms wrapped around your body. For as far as you knew, he was taking a nap there. This kind of physical touch had become very normal very quick for the both of you. 

On day three of living together, Xavier was leaving little touches on the small of your back, your arms, your shoulders, and you found yourself doing the same. Sleeping in the same bed became your favorite past time. You don't think you're in love, but you can't deny that there's something growing inside your chest. 

However, you have been writing it off as a "forced proximity" kind of feeling. You have to make this convincing for your parents to free yourself from their grasp. 

Xavier picks his head up off you and looks up at you: 'Are you still there?' 

'I am,' you hum, 'I just thought you were sleeping.' 

'So?' You finally nod in agreement with him. 'What would you like me to call you?' There's a spark in his eyes when he leans back down and rests his chin on the spot where he was laying. Seems he already has something in mind. 

'I don't know.' 

'I have some ideas.' 

'Alright.' 

'I could call you my star or starlight?' 

'Why?' 

'It feels like you.' It feels like you. How could someone so unknown to you find such a beautiful name to call you so easily? Something stirs inside you. Something you can't quite place. 

'My light,' you hear yourself mumble. He perks up a little. 'I could call you my light and something a little more basic. Something like love, honey, darling?' 

'I like that. Would you like me to use those as well?' 

You think for a second, imagining each of those little words leaving Xavier's lips in relation to you. All of them make your stomach tingle but honey seems the best out of the bunch. 'Maybe just honey. I feel like darling is a bit more for old couples.’ 

'But you're fine calling me that,' he teases, gently making a tickling motion on your back with his hands as his arms are still wrapped around you. A smile makes it way on your lips as you put your hand in his hair, your book long forgotten resting in your other hand next to your thighs. 

'You're an old soul. That's different.' Xavier nuzzles into your touch, encouraging you to scratch his head. “He's like a cat,” you think to yourself. 'Besides, my parents are only coming over for tea, so we don't have to lay it on too thick right away.' 

'That's true and we've already got the touchy feely thing down,' he mumbles, his eyes closed peacefully. Xavier lays his head down on your stomach again, only for it to growl aggressively. A chuckle escapes him. 'Dinner time?' 

You check your watch: 'It's barely five thirty. Seems a little early.' 

'How about you go get ready and I'll take you out for dinner? By the time you're done, it should be dinner time.' You gently bop him on the head with your book. 

'Are you saying I take long?' 

'Of course not,' he chuckles, his whole body rumbling against you, 'but I'm starting to figure you out and you take at least twenty minutes to get ready.' 

There's something so oddly comforting about someone who watches you so intently, wanting to know about you. It has only been a few days, and yet this whole thing feels so real. It doesn't feel like a romantic relationship, but it does feel like you've know each other for years and years. Is this what it's like to find your soulmate? Or perhaps your twin flame? 

'I'm gonna take half an hour if you don't get off me,' you threaten teasingly. He groans, but does push himself up onto his forearms. Without thinking, you lean down to press a kiss to his forehead and slip out from underneath him. He lays back down looking unaffected, but the redness on his cheeks betrays him. It matches yours. Why you were bold enough to do that, you don't know, but it doesn't feel wrong. It actually feels like that's how it should be. 

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Judgment day has arrived. 

Yesterday evening, Xavier had noticed you had a hard time falling asleep. You were tossing and turning like he hadn't experienced from you yet. It seemed out of character. It probably hadn't helped that he suggested a video call with his parents the night before. He should've watched his words and now he's beating himself up about it. 

The stress rubbed off on him and he wakes up far earlier than he usually does. Even earlier than you. It's not all that early. 8:30 am. He takes this rare moment to watch you sleep. It feels a bit weird to him, but you seem so peaceful. 

In his mind, he starts mapping every inch of skin he can see. All the things you would consider blemishes, the arch of your nose, the shape of your eyebrows, the curve of your lips. All of it does something to him, something he hasn't experienced before. There's a weight on his chest and his usually steady heartbeat seems to pick up every time you talk to him. He must be going insane. That's the only thing he can think of. 

With a sigh, he slips out from under the covers but turns back to tuck you in, making sure you're still warm and cozy without him. Why he does it? He has no clue. 

"Maybe I should do something nice... I could get her mother flowers? While I'm out, I could also get some pastries. Some for breakfast and some for tea. Maybe that will calm her down a little." 

As quietly as he can, he gets dressed and heads out. Halfway towards Jeremiah's flower shop, he stops. It's Sunday, he realizes. The shop is closed. Could he call in a favor for this? No, he should check if there's anything else open first. 

And what do you know, no flower shop is open... Seems his luck for living in a quiet part of town. Reluctantly, he presses Jeremiah's contact. 

"Why are you up so early?" 

'Her parents are coming over today.' 

"Shit, you're actually going through with it?" 

'Yes, but I need a favor.' 

"Okay," he says a little suspicious. 

'Every flower shop is closed and I want to get her mother flowers.' 

"On my way. Meet me there." Xavier doesn't even get the chance to thank him before he hears the line cut. "That was easy," he thinks to himself as he continues his walk to the flower shop. It's only a five minute walk and Jeremiah lives across the street from his shop, so this should be easy going. 

By the time he gets there, Jeremiah is waiting for him in front of the shop with his partner, Thomas. The two fit each other so well. Jeremiah as a flower shop owner and Thomas as an art gallery curator. It's the perfect pair. 

Xavier approaches and shakes Thomas’ hand before hugging Jeremiah. He has known the two for ages. Jeremiah since diapers and Thomas ever since the two started dating four years ago. 

'I have to be honest, I am surprised you're getting married before us,' Thomas teases, patting Xavier on the shoulder. 

'And who's fault is that,' Jeremiah jokingly bickers back as he unlocks the shop. Thomas throws up his hands in a half hearted defeat. 'Exactly.' 

'It's not a real marriage,' Xavier counters, but Thomas and Jeremiah share a look he can't quite place. They're both smiling as if they know something he does not. 'I'm serious.' 

'You keep telling yourself that, Xavier,' Jeremiah hums as he slips into the shop. Thomas and Xavier follow, but Xavier can't shake this confusion. 

'Do you know something I don't?' Jeremiah shrugs. 

'I don't know. I mean, after you first met her you stopped meeting me at your place or a bar or something.' Xavier can't deny that that's true. He felled pulled towards the flower shop and picked Jeremiah up every single time after meeting her. 'You also stopped complaining when I gave you errands to run for the shop.' 

'Don't forget how quiet he got when she smiled at him,' Thomas adds, gaining a smack from Jeremiah. 

'Gentle things, don't fry his brain,' he hisses at Thomas. But it's too late. Xavier's brain is positively fried as he starts realizing his subconscious has liked her for a while. 

'But this is fake to her,' he says quietly, 'what do I do now?' 

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[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

I just had a realization...

The Catch 22 banner...

Isn't it just the same plot from Zootopia? I mean, Frenzy Enchancer to make Preadators go wild? Sounds and awful lot like predators going feral 'cause of some flower...

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Epilogue

Masterlist Word count: 2.3 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Author's note: That's it guys. Thank you so much for reading and all the sweet comments. I've had a blast writing this story<3

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, alcohol, mentions of domestic abuse, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Mature content under the cut.

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'So tell me, Rafayel, did you actually set them up,' Zayne asks with a smile as he looks at the happy couple. Rafayel frowns at him. 

'No. Why would I want them to move in together? That's less rent money,' he says in an annoyed, whiny voice. But then he sighs and rolls his eyes, making his annoyed façade a lot less believable. 'I guess they look good together though.' 

'That they do,' Zayne agrees, smiling as he looks at the happy couple entering the ballroom together. 

Today, he had had the great honor of being your best man with Tara by his side as your bridesmaid. He doesn't think he's ever been prouder than he was seeing you walk down the aisle in your beautiful wedding dress with your hair and makeup all done up and the biggest smile on your face.  

It became even more beautiful when he heard the softest sob coming from the man standing there waiting for you. Tears of joy freely flowed down his cheeks as he wore a smile as big as yours. 

He's glad you've found your forever person and couldn't be happier for you. He gets to watch you grow happier and happier each and every day, gets to see you with a partner that allows you to be yourself fully and give yourself fully without taking too much. By now, he loves Sylus like a brother and can't imagine his life without him. 

As he watches Sylus and you sway over the dance floor, your first dance as husband and wife, it brings a tear to his eyes. When the song ends, you approach him with outstretched hands. He takes a quick peek behind you at Sylus to check if it's okay. Sylus nods with a calm smile as Zayne takes your hand. Together, you sway across the dance floor with Sylus gentle eyes on the both of you, smiling contently. 

'Zayne, I don't think I can ever thank you enough for everything you've done for me, for us, but still... Thank you.' 

'I'd do it again a million times to see you happy.' You smile and lean your head on his shoulder. He looks over at Sylus, who is still happily looking at the two of you. It is truly a gift that you two managed to end up together like this. The happiness that has been granted to you is a gift from the gods, truly. He can only hope he'll find something like this for himself. 

'Remind me to introduce you to one of my colleagues,' you say with a cheeky grin, 'I think you'll like her.' 

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'Wait, stop,' you giggle, pushing Sylus off you. The man has been leeching on your neck ever since people started leaving. He pouts at you but lets you do what has to be done. Which is unlocking the door to your shared apartment. When you push the door open, he picks you up and you squeal. 'What are you doing?' 

'Carrying my bride over the threshold,' he states proudly as he walks into the apartment. He closes the door with a kick and carries you straight to the bedroom where he gently puts your back on your feet. 'Would you grant me the honor of taking off your dress?' 

'If you promise me we'll take a shower after.' His pout reappears. The man was banking on something else happening, but you have been in a heavy dress all day and you truly want to wash the day away. It was beautiful and a memory that you'll never forget, but you can almost feel your skin itch under your makeup. 'Please?' 

'Anything my wife wants, my wife gets,' he agrees and walks around you to busy himself with the beautiful pearl buttons on the back of your dress. 'You were enchanting today. Truly in my top five of your most beautiful moments.' 

'Top five? Is it even number one?' 

'No, number one will always be when I woke up with you after we finally had the talk. But it's a good number two.' You giggle as you feel his hands gently work your buttons. Each inch of freed skin is kissed lovingly. 

'What are the others?' 

'Five is when I saw you for the very first time. I was having a terrible time setting up my apartment and you came over with that bottle of whiskey.' You let out a chuckle. 

'You were so rude to me.' 

'I was, but you were beautiful. Even if you did look annoyed,' he adds and continues his list, 'number four is the first time you let me eat you out.' Another chuckle leaves your lips, but then you feel his hands on your hips as he kneels down onto the floor. 

'And number three will be waking up with you tomorrow. The first time waking up with you as my wife,' his voice sounds a little wobbly. When you look over your shoulder, you can tell he has tears in his eyes. With the last button undone, you turn and kneel on the floor with him, taking his face in your hands. He instantly leans into your touch, eyes closing to focus on the warmth you spread through his body. 'I could've never imagined we would've made it this far if it hadn't been for your stubbornness.' 

It almost sounds like a joke, but he means it wholeheartedly. 'And I would do it again and again, a million times if I have to, if that means I get you as my husband,' you tell him, not a trace of uncertainty in your words. His eyes open again and he looks at you, taking in your figure. The dress draping off your shoulders, your makeup so perfectly done, the honestly in your face. 

'I don't know what I've done to deserve you, but it must've been pretty damn good,' he tries to joke, but a tear slips out. Your thumb wipes it away and you lean in to press a kiss on his lips. It's searing hot, a burning promise to stand beside him whatever may come next. 

As lips part, he seems much better. You smile and get up from your knees, offering him your hand. 'Now, I think it's about time we consummate this marriage.' He takes your hand and gets up, pressing a kiss on your cheek. 

'Sweetie, I know you're tired. Let's just take a shower.' 

'Fine,' you pretend to be annoyed, but he sees right through it. 'I'm waking you up with a blowie though.' 

'If I ever say no to that, shoot me.' 

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Despite both being drained from the wedding, you talked for hours. About the past, the present, the future. Little things you hadn't admitted to each other, like Sylus secret love of Fleetwood Mac and your extreme love for- and fascination with sunsets. By the time you both fell asleep, it must've been three or four am. So you aren't really surprised that you wake up with the late morning sun bathing the whole room in a warm orange. 

However, you could've slept for much longer had it not been for a certain someone sucking hickeys on your thighs. With a sluggish movement, you pick up the covers and see Sylus between your legs. Each of his arms wrapped around a thigh, your underwear nowhere to be seen, and a cheeky grin on his lips when he meets your eyes. 

'I thought I said I was going to give you a blowjob.' 

'Well, the day is still young,' he rasps, his voice still full of sleep, 'and I intent to show my wife how much I love her first.' My wife. The words make his stomach tingle the same as they do for you. 

'Okay, but push the covers off. I want to see my husband.' 

'Yes ma’am.' He throws off the covers in one swift motion and plunges right into his breakfast. Right away, flattening his tongue against your clit and licking a thick stripe. Your back arches as you whimper his name. After that, there's no stopping him. 

He plunges two fingers into you and eats like a man starved, like he needs your pussy to stay alive. His fingers pump and curl deliciously inside of you while your body moves uncontrollably, only staying in place because of Sylus’ tight grip on your thighs. The room is filled with moans and whimpers of Sylus’ name. He revels in it. 

Before you know it, your orgasm washes over you. As you try to steady your breathing, Sylus moves from his spot which is slightly uncharacteristic for him. Usually, he tries to get you on the edge of a second orgasm first. 

'My beautiful wife, would you grant me the honor of fulfilling a fantasy of mine,' he asks between kisses as he makes his way slowly to your mouth, placing a loving kiss right on your lips. You wrap your arms around his shoulders to hold him close to you. 

'And what would that be, husband?' 

'Remember that video in my bathroom of me jerking off?' You nod. 'That was the evening after the party. I heard you masturbating and I started imagining being with you. Holding you. I'd like to fuck you how I imaged I would.' 

'Is this something we need a traffic light system for?' He shakes his head. 

'No, none of that. I just want you to stay laying here, just like this and,' he gently lifts your legs until your feet are planted on his mattress, thighs far enough apart to allow space for him. He takes your hands and move them into the hair on the back of his neck. He spreads his legs, sitting on his heels as he gently lines his length up to your pussy. 'Is this alright for you?' 

A smile spreads across your face. This is nothing special. It almost makes you blush that he would imagine such a normal scene and get off so hard on it. You nod and pull on his hair. 'Fuck me, Sylus.' 

He slips in gently and leans closer to press his lips on yours, setting a gentle pace as he kisses you deeply. But you quickly get enough of the slow pace and pull his hair again to separate his lips from yours. 'Quicker, please,' you beg, looking desperate and longing for release. With a smile, he starts driving his length into you at a quicker pace. An orchestra of the little sounds you make fills the room once more. It's so much more beautiful than he imagined back then, so much more beautiful. Your eyes are focused on him and only him. 

'You're absolutely stunning, sweety,' he tells you as he leans closer, wrapping his arms around your body to pull you closer, his lips exploring the expanse of your neck and shoulders. Your hands slip out of his hair and onto his back, your nails leaving works of art on his back in despair. One of his hands leaves your body, moving between the two of you to rub your bundle of nerves, helping you closer to a state of ecstasy. 

'Sylus, you feel so good,' you manage to moan out, clawing your way as close to him as you possibly can. In response, he pulls you up into his lap and holds you close to his chest, as close as humanly possible, while picking up the pace and drilling into you. 

Your moans become louder and you are so grateful the bedroom doesn't border on another apartment as you hear the bed creak pitifully. In a terrible attempt to silence yourself as you rapidly get closer to the edge, you bite down on his collarbone. He groans out your name in a mixture of pain and pleasure. The feeling tips him over the edge. 

His hands grab your hips so hard you're sure it'll bruise, severing you the same mixture of pain and pleasure to help you tip over the edge and fall into the abyss with him. Your teeth let go of his skin as you whole body shakes in pleasure. Sylus holds you close, his arms wrapping around your body like a safety net whilst his hips jerk up to help you ride through your orgasm. 

When he feels your shaking subside, he gently lays you down on the bed and slips out of you. A pathetic whine slips from your lips as your face contorts in disagreement, but all he can see is his beautiful wife. His absolutely perfect wife who is so willing to give herself to him. 

He lays down and snuggles up to you, arms wrapping around your body like they're meant to be there. 'You did perfect.' 

'Sylus?' He hums in response, eyes already closed again, ready for a nap. 'Can I say that I am absolutely flattered that this is what you thought of doing with me the first time you met me?' 

'You can, but do remember that I first fell for you because you were being a brat,' he retorts. There's a chuckle in the back of your throat, but you force it down and huff instead, pretending you're that bratty again. A rumbling laugh goes through his chest. 'I'm joking.' 

'You're really not.' 

'No, I'm not. I still love you though.' The biggest grin spreads on your face, basking in the bliss that this beautiful man loves you. It's something that you didn't see coming, but when you first saw him it hit you like a semitruck. You truly couldn't be happier than you are when you're with him and you hope you'll ever find the words to truly express that to him. 

'I love you too.' 

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[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

For everyone excited about the banner. Plz watch this video and join the boycot!

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Into my arms

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Masterlist Word count: 773 Sylus x Reader

Summary: Sylus likes telling you about music. You like Sylus's voice.

Author's note: I felt like we all needed a tiny little bit of fluff after seeing those banners.

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He's been yapping for a while now. All the while, sweet sounds play from his record player. Every once in a while he gets up to put on a different record, but he seems to be sitting down a little closer to you each time.

Tension is rising, yet Sylus pretends he's unaffected. You are not pretending, you couldn't if you tried. It feels like your hands are itching to touch him, but you know this is important to him.

This is one of the ways he shows affection. He wants you to know what he likes and he wants input on what you like. His collection is extensive and strange. It goes from Tom Waits to The Beach Boys. From The Cure to Dolly Parton. From Metallica to Jim Croce. Surprisingly, he has something to tell about almost all of them.

He tells you about the differences between The Beatles and The Rolling Stones. About how The Beatles had a good boy image whilst being from rough backgrounds, while The Rolling Stones were from privileged lives and had a bad boy image. He tells you about David Bowie's album Lazarus, a testament to his own body failing and approaching death. He tells you about all the songs mentioned in Hozier's Sweet Music. And about how most people know Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds from the song Red Right Hand while he considers Into My Arms, a raw testament to love and believing in that deity only to ask it to bring his lover to him, a much better song.

Talks on and on about all these beautiful words strung together, about the instruments, about the quality of the recording. You love to listen to him. Love to hear him talk about these things that he seems so passionate about, but he has barely scratched the surface.

All the obscurer things he loves to listen to sneak their way into these moments every once in a while, but still he tends to go for love songs when you're around.

He sits down next to you after changing the record again and looks over into your tired eyes. The night owl that he is, he hadn't considered it is your bedtime already. 'Are you tired, sweetie? We can go to bed.'

You shake your head and position yourself onto his lap with one swift movement, your hands gently laying on his chest. Like two pieces of the puzzle, his hands slot against your hips as he looks up at you like he's looking into a fire. The forever changing warmth of your love enveloping him.

'Keep talking,' you tell him. He nods and starts talking about the record he just put on whilst his thumbs gently rub over the fabric of your bottoms. A song from Jim Croce that almost sounds like a lullaby. Time in a Bottle.

His words intertwine with the music like a baseline. You feel his voice rumble in his chest under your fingertips and move yourself closer to feel it in your own chest. Your arms wrap around him as you lean your head on his shoulder.

Slowly, the combination of sound and vibration lulls you closer and closer to sleep. Your mind gets carried on his sentences, gently floating around. Every once in a while, you hum to let him know you're still listening, but he can feel your breathing slow.

'Let's go to bed. I'm getting tired,' he states, more so for you than for him. But, truth be told, he has been sleeping exceptionally well ever since he's started sleeping in your arms. He stands up with you in his arms, clinging to his body like a koala.

'No,' you grumble, not really noticing he's gotten up, 'keep talking. I like hearing you talk.'

'Alright,' he agrees with a smile and he does.

As he carries you into the bedroom he tells you about all the love songs that remind him of you, all the lyrics that to him feel like they were written about you, all the guitar solos and music breaks in songs that make him feel like you are right there with him...

and he keeps talking until he snuggles up to you under the covers. He takes a few seconds to listen to your gentle breathing. He lays his head on your chest, the thumping of your heartbeat relaxing him like nothing else ever has. You have fallen asleep, and that seems the perfect time for a confession to him.

'But besides all of that, my favorite song is the sound of your voice when you greet me in the morning.'

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