#‘who do you think i’ll like?’ and they pick rafayel

[aryomengrande]

me when my friends who also dont play lads pick xavier as the guy they think they’ll like bc he looks so soft/has a sweet demeanor

[tbaluver]

hi this might be a strange ask😔 as a girly who bleeds like a faucet and experiences tremendous pain when on her period, i wonder how the Lads men would react to a blood stain when they wake up in the morning? And take care of their beloved having cramps and other symptoms... okay thank you!!🩷🩷

Period Stains + Period Comfort- The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings in order: xavier x fem! reader, zayne x fem! reader, rafayel x fem! reader, sylus x fem! reader, caleb x fem! reader summary: when you stain the bed sheets/ blankets + period comfort genre: fluff fluff + comfort a/n: hihi anonnie! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ dun worry this is not a weird ask at all bc i genuinely think they're gonna be so caring this time (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ the reaction to the blood stain is below the headcanons ! i hope it was alright and that you enjoy reading ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

This absolute angel will be taking care of you every single day of the week. He sometimes can get a little confused because your cramps can be unpredictable. Sometimes they fade away and other times they return immediately so he’s sticking by your side the entire time until every single one of them goes away. From snuggles to feeding you to your favorite meals and snacks until you need a little space from him. He hates to see you in pain and he’ll do everything he can to make this entire week easier for you.

He might go overboard on buying your favorite snacks that you two might not even finish the entire month. He might even buy something on his way there that reminded him of you as a little gift to make you cheer up

Whenever cramps hit, his hand gently spreads across your lower abdomen, soothing away the tension and untangling the knots in your muscles. He kneads softly and if it’s not enough, he’ll lay in between your legs, offering a comforting pressure and his warmth to relieve the pain away. He'll leave some kisses on your lower abdomen and stomach even though it might not fully relieve the pain.

When your mood swings hit, he’s never fazed at all. He’ll listen patiently, letting you talk through your feelings and every frustration that comes up. To him, it’s never a burden.

────

The iron grip that Xavier had around you in the morning was strong, even more so than usual when you try to slip out of bed. As much as you want to stay in his arms, you notice a glimpse of a faint stain at the sheets from last night reminding you of your period. Gently, you try to wake him up, planting soft kisses along his skin and caressing his cheek.

“Five more minutes..” He mumbles, nuzzling into your touch. A warm blush spread across your face as you told him that the sheets had been stained. Slowly, his eyes flutter open while loosening his hold on you. As you both got up and started to pull the sheets off, he stopped you, shaking his head softly. “It’s alright. Go freshen up,” He smiles softly, “I’ll take care of the sheets.”

You quickly freshen up in the bathroom, hurrying to change out of your pajamas and into your new ones, hoping to at least help Xavier with the bed. But as soon as you step out, the sheets have already changed and the bed looks as fresh as it did when you first laid down. Even the plushies on your side of the bed were neatly placed back.

Xavier soothes out the sheets, his focus shifting towards you the moment you walk in. His expression softens with concern, “How are you feeling? Does it hurt a lot?” Before you can answer, he’s guiding you back carefully toward the bed, his hand resting on your lower abdomen with a comforting pressure. “How about we order in  some food? Anything you’re craving? Pick whatever you want.”

Zayne:

When Zayne is around during your period, you don’t have to worry about anything. The house will be clean, meals will be made or delivered, and you’ll be fully cared for.

Despite his busy schedule, Zayne always makes sure to take care of you as much as he can. You don't have to worry about running out of supplies or sweets because he's already gotten them for you. and Zayne never runs out of sweets. He’ll go through his calendar to make sure you have everything you need before your period starts. He’ll have everything you need such as things like pads/ tampons, heating pads, or medicine to ease the discomfort.

Sore boobs? Bra is unclipped, removed, and his hands are quickly on them, kneading them softly and gently. Whispers in your ear, "Is this alright?" "How does this feel?" which makes ovulation come by way quicker

Whenever nausea hits you during your period, he’s quick to make you a soothing cup of ginger or peppermint tea, or anything that will help you settle your stomach. When hot flashes happen, he’ll become your personal ice back to help you cool off.

During his breaks, he’ll check in on you and to see if you’d like a sweet treat later when he gets home. Even if you don’t want any, he’ll make sure to pick something up for you.

He also shares some helpful tips he’s learned about menstruation, like how to position a pillow a certain way in between your legs to ease your cramps when he’s not around and when he is there, he’ll replace the pillow with himself. If you’re up to it, he might suggest some light yoga or some walking. He’s learned that certain stretches can relieve pelvic pressure and he’ll do them all with you.

────

Your eyes flutter open, the comforting warmth of Zayne enveloping beside you. His hand rests gently on the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles as he reads. You groan softly, a sharp familiar ache stirs on your lower abdomen, hoping it’s just a stomach ache and not the possibility that it might be the start of your period.

Zayne’s gaze shifts towards you, setting his book down on the nightstand. “Good morning. How are you feeling?” He asks softly. “Today could be the first day of your cycle. I suggest you freshen up and check.” Zayne had been tracking your cycles since the beginning of your relationships, his predictions had been right most of the time. The moment you shift out of bed, you felt that familiar discomfort flowing down between your legs, confirming he was in fact right.

As you move toward the bathroom door, he grabs a fresh set of clothes for you, closing the door behind you with a soft click as he tends to the small stain left behind on your shared bed. He had noticed it before you, not drawing attention to it so you don’t have to worry about a thing.

You quickly freshened up and changed, hoping he hadn’t noticed the stain but as soon as you opened the bathroom door, he was calmly tending the bed already. Before you could speak or apologize, he was already ahead of you. “I changed the sheets,” He said softly, “I’ll make you some tea.” He gently pulls you closer to him, pressing a soft and reassuring kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to stain the bed.. I should’ve cleaned it.” Zayne shook his head, his lips curving into a gentle small smile.

“You don’t need to be sorry for something you can’t control. It’s natural. Now what would you like for breakfast?”

Rafayel:

Rafayel becomes your personal heating pad, carefully using his evol to warm your lower abdomen just enough to bring you comfort and to get rid of your cramps.

Cuddles with lots of soft feather-like kisses that make you giggle from how it tickles but not to the point where you’re squirming uncontrollably. He playfully talks to your abdomen as he slowly massages it. “Free her! She’s had enough! Let me take her pain!” to lighten your mood during discomfort

Rafayel never misses a chance to shower you with compliments. He knows how you might feel icky or uncomfortable with yourself during this time so he makes sure to lift you up instead, reminding you how beautiful and strong you are. He’s not letting you forget how deeply he loves and appreciates you.

He’ll also have some medicine in stock if you need it, bringing you a cooling compress to gently press against your forehead whenever your head hurts/ hot flashes

Bubble baths with him are a must. He knows how intense your cramps can be from knowing how much your cramps affect you and he believes a warm bubble bath will help. He’s super gentle, running his hands through your hair while soft massaging your lower abdomen to provide soothing relief.

────

Your eyes flutter open, the soft sounds of seagulls calling from outside the window stirring you awake from your sleep. Rafayel is already awake, propped up on his elbow, his gaze fixed on you with a soft smile. He watches as you stir awake, his heart warming at the sight beside him.

“Good morning cutie,” The corners of his lips slightly crinkled at the corners as he watched you. As much as you want to soak in this peaceful and intimate moment with him, that sharp pain in your lower abdomen makes you curl further into a ball, a small groan escaping your lips. The discomfort makes your face scrunt up and Rafayel immediately notices. “Aww, is it shark week already?” He teases, gently cupping your lower abdomen before massaging it in slow, soothing circles. “How about a bubble bath? Maybe that’ll help.” 

The two of you slowly get out of bed, the flow of your blood makes the discomfort even worse. As you glance down, your heart sinks when you spot a stain on your side of the bed, making you feel a little embarrassed. Rafayel notices at the same time and gives you a reassuring smile as he reaches out to gently squeeze your hand. “Dun worry. I’ve got it covered. I’ll take care of everything.” He flashes a playful wink as he guides you toward your shared bathroom. “And I’ll make sure to take care of those sharks for ya later, promise.”

He helps you sit on the edge of the bathtub, adjusting the water to just the perfect temperature. While you settle in, he quickly leaves the room. You hear the soft rustle of the sheets being pulled away as he tosses them into the laundry bin and he later comes back holding a fresh set of clothes for the both of you.

“I’ll make sure the bed’s all fresh when we’re done.” He leans down, kissing your forehead, his lips lingering for a second before he pulls back. “I’ve got it all covered cutie.”

Sylus:

Sylus makes sure to put a lot of effort to make sure you were absolutely comfortable. He’ll provide as many meals, snacks, pillows, and blankets as you need. Whatever you want, he’ll provide it all for you. There’s no need for you to lift a finger or even a leg this week.

Anything you crave? He's already got it or it's on its way in a few minutes. If you want him to prepare a meal he'll make it for you or he'll get a personal chef to make it for the both of you so he can stay by your side.

If you’re dealing with a headache, he’ll close the curtains and dim the lights before pressing soft kisses to your forehead. After that, he’ll grab you some medicine to ease the pain and make you a cup of tea to make it all go away.

Sylus understands the pain you’re in and how sluggish you feel. Without hesitation, he curls up beside you, his warmth enveloping you. He showers you with gentle kisses, whispering soothing words.

He gives you all the massages you want. His large hands are heavenly on you, massaging any area that you want relief. It’s so soothing that it has your eyes fluttering shut as the tension melts away under his touch.

If any tears start to fall and you can’t explain why, he’s there by your side. He murmurs sweet things and reassurance to your ear and later pampers you if it makes you feel better.

────

You wake up to a dull ache in your lower abdomen, curling closer to Sylus to seek comfort in his embrace. Your limbs tangle together and though it should bring you relief, it doesn’t ease the sting. As you shift, you feel the dampness through your pajamas, your stomach sinks with the idea that you might’ve stained his expensive sheets.

Not wanting to disturb his peaceful slumber, you gently stir Sylus awake. His eyes flutter open slowly, his muscles relaxing to see you. “Hmm..? Since when did you start waking up earlier than me sweetie?” His voice low and raspy, pulling you even closer to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

You hesitate for a moment before explaining, “I think I might have stained the bed..It might be my first day..”

He pulls away slightly, “You think you stained the bed?” He places a hand on your lower abdomen, his fingers slowly try to massage the ache away. “How much does it hurt right now? Can you walk?”

You give him a small reassuring smile, “I should be fine..just uncomfortable.” His touch lingers for a little longer before he nods.

“Go change, I’ll take care of everything.” His voice stays calm and reassuring. Despite your offer to help, Sylus shakes his head with a gentle smile. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll get it done.”

By the time you return, Sylus has nearly finished changing the sheets. You walk over to him, trying to help smooth out the sheets, a small frown tugging at your lips as you worry about the stain going through the mattress. “What if I ruined the bed? I didn’t mean to..”

Sylus turns to you, a soft chuckle escaping him. He steps closer, his hand gently cupping the back of your head before pressing a soft kiss, his lips grazing your hair. “It's just a bed sweetie. Besides, what matters is that you’re okay. I’ll handle everything here. Just focus on getting some rest.”

Caleb:

Caleb is experienced in this area when it comes to taking care of you during your period. He’s been there since the very beginning of it all. He remembers exactly what type of pads/ tampons you use and it’s second nature for him to pick them up from the store without a second thought. He’s never uncomfortable walking through the feminine care aisle at all.

He makes sure to pick up the snacks you love and doesn’t hesitate to text you if you were craving anything specific so he can pick it up before he comes home. He also picks up ingredients for your favorite meals, knowing the comfort of a delicious home cooked meal will bring a smile to your face.

Speaking of food, he’ll prepare you some warm and comforting meals that he knows will help you feel better. He’ll make sure you eat every single bite, gently encouraging you not to skip any meals.

He’ll come into your room with a tray of ice cream, loaded with your favorite flavors and toppings. “Hey pip-honey, I got you some of your favorite ice cream. I’ll make you whatever you want. I can whip up a sundae for you even if it’s just a Thursday."

He hates to see you in pain, it breaks his heart. He’s silently cursing the universe for making you go through this, wishing he could take it all away. But for now what he can do is stay by your side, massaging you as long as you need. His hands are gentle and steady, warming up heating pads and placing them on your lower abdomen to give you some relief. As he does this, he softly murmurs sweet reassurances in your eat and that 'Caleb’s here to help you through it.'

Caleb handles your mood swings pretty well and has so much patience. He never minds if you’re feeling grouchy or irritable. Whenever your emotions get the best of you and you snap a little, he’s always there to listen, letting you vent about anything you have a problem with.

────

“Hey..hey pipsqueak..” Caleb murmurs as he brushes a lock of hair from your face. “Juust for a second.. I need you to wake up.” Your eyes flutter open and that familiar sharp ache in your lower abdomen makes you wince, instinctively curling into yourself. “Does it hurt? Do you want me to carry you to the bathroom?” You shake your head, not wanting to get up from his embrace just yet.

“mm..what’s going on?” You mumble sleepily.

“I need to change the sheets real quick,” His voice a little sheepish. “Then you can go back to sleep. I’ll make you some breakfast and you can stay right here okay?” You sigh as a gentle protest but nod. As you slowly sit up, the discomfort of the flow makes itself known as you make your way to the bathroom.

You’ve grown up together and something as natural as this could not make him see you any differently. He’s seen it all, the awkward moments, the cramps, the emotional and physical mess you’ve been through. Despite the discomfort you feel, he’s always there to help and tries his absolute best to make this easier for you. 

He quickly strips the bed, changing the sheets to something more comfortable and fluffing your pillows just the way you like them. By the time you step back into your room, freshly changed, the bed is already made up neatly.

“There,” He says with a bright smile as his gaze locks on you. “All nice and cozy just for you pipsqueak.” He pulls you back into bed, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Now, get some rest. I’ll take care of everything else.”

cr. for the divider @/ cafekitsune

a/n: also the caleb and the sundae part is a reference to a tiktok im still trying to find it bc i have to many edits saved-

here's a post i wrote that's similar to this! only all four of them for now When You're On Your Period

my other works if you want to check it out! Love And DeepSpace Masterlist Pg.1 , Pg.2

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Don't Panic

The lads men finding you asleep with your child in your arm while you were trying to feed them. You're a first time mom you're not going to be perfect. A/N: This is a mommy mc if you're uncomfortable with the idea of mommy mc this is your warning [Requested by: who-mentioned-rhys-larsen]

Summary: You were a first time mom and motherhood was the hardest hood you’ve ever lived in. Even with your husband doing his fatherly duties you were still exhausted. You checked the time on your watch and noticed it was feeding time. You hoisted your baby into your arms and sat down on the bed to breast-feed. You blinked rapidly trying to keep yourself awake “I’ll nap when you’re done eating” You said more so to yourself rather than the baby when suddenly …. you woke up. When did you doze off? The sun was up last time you checked now it's dark out. Where’s the baby? Oh shit where’s the baby!?

Zayne

Zayne came home to find you curled up with your child who was snoring quietly while you held them snuggly in your arms. He picked your babygirl up careful not to wake you and moved her to the adjoining nursery. She squirmed a little at the loss of warmth, but calmed down once Zayne swaddled her.

A few hours later…

MC: ZAYNE!

Zayne: Darling stop yelling before you wake the baby

MC: Where is she?? I fell asleep while feeding her oh fuck im a terrible mom

Zayne grabs you by the shoulders

Zayne: Breathe my love she’s fine I put her in her bed

MC: *teary-eyed* did I hurt her?

You dropped your gaze feeling your heart shatter at the thought of hurting your child

Zayne: You had her held safely in your arms she’s fine go look

You rushed to the nursery to find your babygirl in a peaceful slumber. A wave of relief washed through you causing you to fall to your knees.

MC: I won't let that happen again

Zayne: Go get some sleep my love you’ve earned it I'll take care of the baby

MC: but-

Zayne: You’ll be no good sleep-deprived go rest

Rafayel

MC: WHERE ARE THEY?

You rush out into the living room after tearing your room apart looking for your babies

Rafayel: Quiet down. Why are you yelling?

MC: I CANT FIND THE TWINS

Rafayel: You lost our kids?

MC: I-I accidentally fell asleep and and and when I woke up they were gone I-I-I omg im the worst mom alive

Rafayel: Are these two not ours?

You walk around the couch to find them each fast asleep, one laying in his lap and the other sprawled out next to him on a blanket.

MC: I should punch you in the jaw fuck I think I just had a heart attack thats not funny

Rafayel: I found you asleep in the bedroom with your titty out

MC: Well thats embarrassing

Rafayel: It was a nice surprise … This baby shark was trying to climb on you when I came in

Rafayel said pointing to your baby boy who was drooling all over his lap

Rafayel: and this little sea snail was curled up next to you

Rafayel placed his hand on the tummy of your babygirl

MC: I’m glad they're safe

You sighed, relieved that your babies were fine

Rafayel: You should probably go do that pumping thing you always do …. you’re leaking

MC: Shit!

Rafayel: My little leaky faucet

MC: Please put your top and bottom lip together

Xavier

You sat up quickly almost head butting Xavier who was standing over you

Xavier: Whoa you should change your shirt you have spit up on this one

MC: Where's the baby!?

Xavier: I just put him in his crib

MC: Is he okay? I didn’t roll over on him did I? Was he breathing?

Xavier: Yes. No. and Yes.

Xavier began removing your shirt

MC: Wait wait I need to see our son

Xavier: Okay but lets change your shirt first

MC: No—I need—-Xav move

You end up wrestling Xavier who’s just trying to get you out of your soiled shirt. He manages to slip it off and you dart out of the room with no shirt. You quietly make your way in the nursery and see your baby boy sleeping soundly. Man he looks so much like his dad it’s crazy.

Xavier: Here. *pulls a shirt over your head*

MC: Thanks Xav Im sorry I was just so scared

Xavier: I understand ... now according to Jenna since the baby is down you should get some rest too let’s go

MC: Are you going to nap with me?

Xavier: Jeremiah was in the living room when you ran through to get to our son

MC: Did he see.....?

Xavier: He won't remember even if he did

MC: JEREMIAH IM SORRY

Sylus

MC: WHERE IS SHE??

Kieran: Calm down

Luke: You’ll wa—

MC: DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN

Sylus: She’s right here

You turn to see Sylus holding your baby girl in his arms. She's playfully tugging on his necklace while he continuously moves her little hand away.

MC: Mommy is so sorry baby …. did I hurt her? I didn’t mean to fall asleep

Sylus: You’re going to make yourself sick with all this worrying

MC: I just fell asleep with our child in my arms that seems like grounds to worry Sylus

Sylus: She was fast asleep on your chest and you had your arm wrapped around her

MC: It’s still dangerous

Sylus: and yet she’s fine live and learn sweetie everything will be fine

MC: It’s like my third day out here okay im still learning this mom shit

Sylus: Rule number 1 don’t cuss in front of the baby

MC: Oh shut up

Sylus: Rule number 2 don’t be rude to her dad

MC: Anything else?

Sylus: Rule number 3 dont forget to pump

You look down and realize you have two wet patches on your shirt

MC: Shit!

Sylus: Rule number 1—

MC: Shut it!

[veebeeboo109]

"A Morning Workout"

{From Ch. 11 of "Cleaning Up the Timeline". After a less-than-peaceful sleepover, you wake up with Zayne and Sylus. Snowcrow is snowcrowing}

Word Count: 3.9k

Tags: Smut, MMF, Zayne x Sylus x You, Threesome, DP, Wear a condom kids, and practice safe-sex practices.

“Can you take the day off? Please?”

Your timid question has him turning back around, “Really? I– I don’t think I can.”

“A sick day? You never take a sick day. Just a day to relax. I think you need it.” You argue. 

“I’m on call. There isn’t anything scheduled but I should go anyway.” Zayne’s arguing with himself more than you at this point. Debating against the part of himself that likes his work, and the part that really likes you. 

If there was an award for best puppeteer in the house, it would go to Sylus. (That is until Rafayel woke up.) You felt Sylus wake up, rising into consciousness and wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you more securely. Sleepily, lazily, he presses kisses to your tummy, then to your sternum, and then to the exposed skin of your chest. Taking his time to drift slowly upwards until your attention is torn between the two men. One who is still debating leaving, and the other baiting the hook to dangle in front of him. 

“We could have a lazy day,” Sylus rumbles against you, and you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or Zayne. “Stay in bed all day.” 

“I have responsibilities.” Zayne stands when he speaks, sounding a little irritated by Sylus’ taunt. 

“Oh, I know.” Sylus is pushing himself onto his elbows and moving to pepper your neck with kisses, unable to resist letting his tongue lap at your skin. “So responsible, Dr. Zayne. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of our kitten while you work. Such good, good care.”

Your breathing is picking up, steamy little pants leaving your lips as Sylus punctuates his words with branding fingers dragging down your sides, hooking into your shorts and panties and taking his time to pull them down your legs. 

“Hear her?” Sylus sounds almost pitiful, “How can anybody leave such a sweet little thing like you? Oh, I could never, sweetheart. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll give you what you need.”

“Sylus.” You gasp as he flattens his hands on your legs and caresses upwards. You can feel your heartbeat get faster the closer his hands get to the mess of slick between your legs. Barely a touch and your sopping, clenching around the mere idea of more. The pound of your heartbeat pulsing in your core, a desperate wanton drum. 

“You’re incorrigible.” Zayne seethes. His tone is icy and disapproving, arms crossed across his chest. But if he meant it he’d be leaving. Turning away to get ready for work and all his responsibilities. But he doesn’t. Zayne doesn’t move a muscle, standing at the edge of the bed like he’s anchored there. “You’d have me quit my job if I let you.”

Sylus’ laugh vibrates the live wire inside you. A pluck against that too-tight harp string of desire. The white-haired man glances over at the other, and he smirks like the devil himself, “Now there’s an idea. What do you think, kitten? Do you think Zayne should quit his job to take care of you?”

You mewl as Sylus drags his fingers up your slit, any words evaporating against the white-hot fever of his touch. You're getting a little dizzy, and feeling a little lost. Sylus begins playing with you slowly, drawing out little breaths of saccharine pleasure in a sleepy, thoughtless way. 

But he’s never thoughtless, never sloppy. You’ll realize later it’s on purpose. The loose swipes of fingers that leave you half-mad. He’s missing on purpose, making you whine in frustration on purpose. Is it because he’s mean? No. It’s because it’s the final straw for your fair, high-strung doctor. 

Zayne moves with scalpel precision, kneeling on the bed and grabbing Sylus’ wrist with an offended huff, “You’re not doing it right.”

Sylus grins like a victor after a fight, all canine. “Am I? Show me then, doc-tor.”

Zayne throws Sylus’ hand aside and gives him a glare, “You move too fast. You can’t just jump into touching her like that. She needs more affection. Watch.”

The dark haired man moves to pull you upright, placing himself between your thighs and holding the sides of your face to bring you to him. He opens his mouth like he might ask for permission, but you're already closing the gap. Pressing your lips to his hungrily. He responds in kind, matching your rhythm. 

Zayne is so measured. So even. Like the soft untouched surface of freshly fallen snow, but it's only a cover. A thin lay of snow and ice revealing dark waters below. You could drown in them, You would drown in them. Get lost in that painful abyss that’s equal parts comfort and consumption. 

You feel loved in his arms. Like you might find forever in his kisses. His hands drift down your body and pull you closer, and you’re taking the initiative to grip at his sleep shirt and tug it upwards. 

He pulls away to let you pull it off him. And you're back to kissing him. Breaking away from him is to be without air, to be without warmth. 

Zayne gasps when you bite at his lip, and he’s pushing his hand into your hair to hold you more firmly. 

When Zayne pulls away, there’s a sinful string of saliva connecting you. The delicate web snapping as he draws you away from him with the hold on your hair. “There. That’s the right way, isn’t it? Tell him, love. Tell him you like it better that way.”

You gasp and nod, “I like– ah–” Zayne doesn’t let you finish because his fingers are between your legs, drawing circles around your clit and down to your fluttering hole. Never lingering too long on the sensitive nub– too much stimulation making your eyes flutter. 

Sylus is behind Zayne, pressing against his back and dragging his lips along the other man’s neck. “So good…Keep going. Show me how good you can make her feel.”

Zayne sits up a little, turning his head to the side and meeting Sylus’ gaze. “It seems like you need the practice, Sy~lus.” 

The way Zayne purrs Sylus’ name makes you clench and roll your hips against Zayne’s hand. It’s a sight that you want to imprint into your mind forever. These two beautiful, massive, dangerous men, turning their attention to you and their eyes shining with lust and affection. 

“Sylus likes to be in charge,” Zayne says to you with a smirk, “Have you ever noticed how much he likes to boss others around?”

You nod, moaning as Zayne presses one of his fingers inside you. He grunts at the resistance, and exhales through his teeth. His glazed eyes dropping down to watch the digit disappear inside you. “So tight, love. Can you even handle another?”

Your head spins with how quickly you nod, “Yes, ngh– Yes, I c-can take it. I can.”

Sylus growls from behind Zayne, “Don’t push her too hard. Don’t–”

“I’m not going to.” Zayne bites back, but pushes another finger inside you. You squeal at the slight stretch and roll your hips down onto him. 

“I want–” Sylus sounds a little breathless when he speaks, looking at Zayne like he’s waiting for permission, “I want to taste her again.”

“I heard you got plenty yesterday.” Zayne chastises coolly, staring at Sylus almost disapprovingly while he simultaneously finger fucks you into oblivion. “Maybe you should just watch.”

“N-no.” Sylus whines, and the sound of it shoots like an arrow through you. “Please, let me. Come on, kitten. You want me to lick you again, don’t you? Tell him. Tell Zayne you want me to.”

“No.” Zayne’s voice is an even command. He draws his fingers out of you and you mewl at the loss, but watch with rapt attention as he lifts his dewy digits up to Sylus, “This is what you get. You get what I give you. You’re already getting your way by me staying here. You want to taste? Then lick them clean.”

You nearly come just from his words, and feel the pool of slick beneath you grow as you watch Sylus obey without a second thought. He grabs Zayne’s wrist and pulls the fingers to his mouth, dragging his long tongue up the length of them and then drawing them into his mouth, sucking them so thoroughly the sound of it fills the room. 

  Zayne pulls his hand away. His expression is even but his cheeks and ears are red, the skin of his chest flushed a sweet strawberry blush. He’s clearly affected, twitching as Sylus claws at him to draw him into a kiss, sharing the taste of you between them.

“I’ll help you,” Sylus breathes as he pulls away, “Just let me touch her. I’ll be good, but just let me–”

Zayne snorts, “Go on then.”

With permission granted, Sylus crawls over to you, “Sweet girl, oh, you smell so good. You’re twitching with it, aren’t you? You need to be filled up. Tell me, can I kiss you, sweetheart? Can I take care of you?”

You reach out to pull him to you, as easy as guiding a paper boat across a pond. There’s no resistance to him as you pull him on top of you, drawing him into a sloppy kiss. “Yes.” You rasp against his lips, “Anything– ah. Anything, please.”

Sylus groans and grinds his clothed hips against you, “Anything? You can’t offer that to me, sweetheart. Or I’ll actually take it.”

You’re tired of waiting. Tired of touching and grinding and not enough. So, you take matters into your own hands, and push Sylus’ shoulders and twist him around. He’s too big to move unwillingly, but the way his eyes widen tells you he’s more than willing. He moves with the tiniest pressure of your hands onto his back, letting you straddle him and remove his shirt. He’s a puppeteer at the mercy of someone else’s strings, lifting his hips when you hook around the waistband of his pants and pull down. 

You’ve barely got the pants past the roundness of his ass before there are hands at your waist, squeezing you.

“Slow down.” Zayne whispers, “We have the whole day, don’t we?”

“Zayne…” You whine airly, “I don’t want to wait.”

“Neither does he.” Zayne says with a pointed glance to a panting Sylus. The white haired man’s hands are raised, as if to show Zayne he was innocent in this stripping game. Zayne chuckles softly and pulls you by the back of the neck to kiss you, and when he lets you go,  he mumbles against your lips, “Do you trust me, love?”

You nearly smack your forehead into his when you nod, and can’t help but kiss him once more. A light, soft kiss. 

“Use your mouth.” Zayne hisses into you, “And I’ll use mine.”

You’re not clear what he means but you don’t care. You’re back at the task at hand, grabbing the elastic band of Sylus’ briefs and pulling down, eager like opening a present. Too excited for the prize within to care about the wrapping. 

Sylus’ cock springs out, slapping obscenely against his stomach and he hisses through his teeth. There’s a magnetic pull to him, drawing into his aura like a moth to flame. The heat emanating from his skin is addictive, only magnified by the cool air coming from Zayne as he grabs handfuls of your hips and ass. Guiding you onto all fours in front of Sylus with your hips in the air. 

A long ragged moan leaves Sylus’ lips when you drag your tongue up his thick, monstrous cock. It’s large like the rest of him is– thick and weighty. Even as furiously hard as he is, the weight of it makes it droop against his bellybutton, twitching upwards. 

You wrap your hand around the girth of him at the base and lift it up to your lips. Kissing the tip before you press the head into your warm, wet mouth. Sylus’ hand is in your hair the instant you touch him, and his fingers tremble with the untempered desire to grip and hold. 

It’s a stretch. He barely fits into your mouth, and you nearly gag on more than one occasion, but the wrecked sounds he makes are more than enough motivation for you to press on. 

A sharp yelp shocks out of you when Zayne is at your cunt, licking a long stripe up the messy line of your sex. He’s slow and gentle, polite even as he licks at your clit and presses his tongue into you. 

A chain reaction occurs. Your squeal makes Sylus groan, gripping your hair tightly which makes your eyes cross. You’re pressing back into Zayne’s tongue without thought, only pure delirium. 

It takes effort to focus on Sylus’ cock, but he doesn’t seem to mind. When your mind starts to drip into syrupy pleasure and your movements become sloppy, Sylus seems to enjoy it. His breathing hitches and the grip on your hair tightens. 

“That’s it…” Sylus growls, beginning to guide your head up and down his length. You can feel his thundering heartbeat against your tongue. “G-gorgeous girl... So good for us. Right–ahh that’s it– Right where you belong.”

He’s stuttering through the pleasure, his hips starting to thrust up. Something in his face shifts. A curl to his upper lip that makes Zayne stop. Zayne is quick, pushing Sylus’ hand off your head and pulling you off with an arm around your chest. You gasp as you're physically removed from Sylus, a wanton whine escaping. 

Sylus chokes, caught right at the precipice of orgasm but caught off. A flash of anger crosses his eyes before sense returns to him.

“You come when I say you can.” Zayne says as he uses his hold on your waist to maneuver you. Moving you further up Sylus’ body until your chest to chest with the man. 

Zayne is kneeling behind you, his hands finding holds on the sides of your hips, and shifts you from side to side just because he can. He hums, a deep, pleased noise as he watches you and Sylus share the same breath. Both fucked out and dumb– higher functioning off and nothing but writhing, sensory beings. 

“So pretty.” Zayne coos, “Looking at you two…what a sight you make. Lean back for me, love. That’s it– press back into me.”

“You want Zayne to fuck you, sweetie?” Sylus whispers against your lips, swallowing the soft gasp you make. 

“Yes– ahn– please Zayne!” You shift back, presenting for him like a bitch in heat, “Please, please, please.”

Sylus is grinning against you as he watches over your shoulder. Zayne releases one side of your hips to hold his cock and line it up. The fat head catches on your entrance, and you keen as he slowly presses in. The stretch is sublime. Edging just on the edge of discomfort. 

Zayne is quiet– the softest hitch of his breath the only sign he’s feeling anything. But then Sylus is moving his hands to the soft globes of your ass and spreading them, pushing you back and further down onto the other man’s throbbing cock. 

A dewy moan leaves you, and Zayne chokes on the staggering sound that his chest makes. He’s only halfway in, and you’re breathlessly full, unsure whether you want to move away or further down. 

“G-god, you’re so tight. Oh. Oh, don’t move.” Zayne snaps, “I don’t want to hurt you, love, so don’t move for a second. F-fu-uuck…”

“You can handle it.” Sylus whispers in your ear, sounding nearly as wrecked as you feel, “Keep going. Take it all. Fuck, just like that. Take it. Take it. Take it.”

You’re clinging to Sylus as Zayne presses in, coaxed deeper and deeper by needy movements of your hips. Completely surrounded by the two of them and every sense is overwhelmed. 

Sylus swallows your cries as Zayne begins to move, slow and steady.

When Zayne finally bottoms out, he grips the curve of your waist almost too tightly, pulling you back ever firmer against him, but he’s already as deep as he can possibly get. His hips pressed against your ass, and his cock tucked snugly against your cervix. 

It’s almost painful, but it dissolves into feathery pleasure when Sylus kisses you through it, muttering sweet words of praise and moving his hand to rub little circles on your clit. 

Your orgasm is fast approaching and Zayne’s barely moved. 

“O-oh fuck!” You squeal, nails digging into Sylus’ shoulder, “More, please, more!”

Zayne pounds into you. Long, hard thrusts that make stars sparkle behind your eyes. The sinful squelch of your slick and the slap of his hips is a symphony. It’s hard, and it’s lovely, and it’s perfect. 

You’re unable to keep kissing Sylus, mouth open and gasping for breath. He’s smiling– a wild, feral smile.

And a horrible thought occurs to you. Horrible only for your self-preservation and your sanity, but so so good for that depraved whore inside you. 

“B-b-both.” You stutter out between breaths. Zayne slows down, giving you half a second to find your voice. “I want both. Both please.”

Zayne’s cock throbs inside you, pressing against that sensitive spot deep in your core that makes you clench. Sylus looks a little lost, his face slackening in rapt eagerness.

“You sure, sweetheart? You want me to fuck you too? Think I’ll fit in your pretty little pussy?” Sylus bites your lower lip and groans, “Oh sweetie, come here.”

Zayne groans, and moves with you, never pulling out as you shift down to lay against Sylus’ chest, your breasts pressed into his face which he wastes no time nipping at. 

“This isn’t–” Zayne hisses, “She needs more prep.”

“She’s so determined, Zayne.” Sylus argues, shifting to press the head of his cock to the stretched rim of your hole. The instant he adds pressure you’re sure it won’t fit, but Sylus’ eyes are glazing over and his jaw is falling open. Practically drooling. “Let her try. Let my sweet girl try. She’ll feel so good, won’t she? I want to be inside her with you.”

Zayne’s hips thrust forward of their own accord, the most ragged moan yet leaving his dry lips. Sylus is pressing in tightly, and the stretch is unreal. He’s barely got half the head in and you're sure you’ll split in two, but god what a way to go. What a perfect death. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You whimper, “Oh god, it’s too much. Don’t stop. Ah! Don’t stop!”

“You’re mine, sweet girl. You’re ours.” Sylus snarls, hips pushing up into you, and the fat head of his cock slips in with a wet squelch. “Take us both. Take it so fucking  good for us.”

“Oh love,” Zayne’s back is pressed against yours, his voice in your ear and it's such a contrast to the depravity in Sylus’. “You feel so divine. You’re doing so well. So well. Yes. Yes, ngh.”

It’s ages before Sylus is all the way in, and there are tears shimmering down your face when he finally bottoms out. The two of them nestled within, swallowed by delicious friction. Divine death is the vice of your cunt and the slide of their cocks against each other. 

Zayne stays still while Sylus moves. There’s too much violent energy in the white haired man for him to stay still any longer. Long, slow thrusts and he’s barely half a dozen glides inside when you're clenching, vibrating on the precipice. 

“Oh fuck I’m gonna–” You choke, hips jerking and making the pair inside you groan in unison. “I’m gonna come. Please. Please, please. Oh god– you feel so good. Don’t leave. Don’t leave me please.”

“I’m not gonna last,” Zayne bites into your shoulder softly, “Come on, love. Come around us. Let me feel it. Yes, yes.”

“Not going anywhere, sweetheart. You just hold onto me. I’ll stay inside forever if you let me. Yeah, fuck. That’s it, come for me. Come for us.” Sylus’ fingertips dig into your flesh, and your mind is struck with the sudden feeling of loss. There’s a lack of digging. A lack of points at the tips of his fingers. Where did they go?

You’re coming before you can debate that odd sensation. Tipped over the edge into writhing oblivion and crying out. Gushing around their cocks and soaking the bed sheets below. 

Your peak is a trigger, firing off the other two in rapid succession. Zayne thrusts up once and then twice and you can feel the throb of him when he comes, pressing his face into any skin he can reach and panting for breath. 

Sylus snarls like an animal lurching forward to latch his mouth and teeth onto the junction of your shoulder as his cock jumps, slamming to the hilt inside you– slickened by the other man’s come leaking out. It’s filthy, and his teeth dig into your skin so sharply your vision blanks. 

They come down from their highs in different ways. Zayne slowly rolls his hips, relaxing like the unwinding of a tightened spring— easy and slow. Relishing in the afterglow and the slick heat of your pussy around him. 

Sylus is a serrated blade. Fucking up into you with sharp half-thrusts and pushing the mixture of their come deeper and deeper. He growls through it, keeping himself clawing into the sensations for as long as he possibly can. Breathing harshly and lapping his tongue against the bite mark he left behind. 

Your body protests any movement, and you’re not ready to let go of them just yet. So you let your head rest on Sylus’ shoulder and focus on the full feeling of them both inside you. How did that even happen? How did they both fit?

Zayne runs a hand up your spine. A gentle caress, “Shh, relax love. Let me–” He’s pulling out, and the drag has you keening, twitchy in aftershocks and then left horrifically empty. 

You turn to Sylus and he kisses you mushily, “I’m not going anywhere, kitten.” He whispers, “Let me stay for a minute, yeah? Let me feel you for just a bit longer.”

Zayne is gone and back but your mind is still filled with rose cotton. He’s got a water bottle in his hands that he presses to your lips. You drink a few swallows and then collapse back onto Sylus. 

“A lazy day, then?” Zayne asks with an affectionate shake of his head. 

Sylus’ laugh vibrates against you, “I’m feeling particularly lazy now.”

You giggle softly and shift to get more comfortable on top of Sylus, “I hope you don’t blame me if I slack off today, right Zayne? I’ll be sure to catch up on cleaning tomorrow.”

Zayne sits down next to you on the bed and brushes his hand through your hair, “Don’t worry about any of it. Perhaps we should revisit the contract again.”

You sigh and shake your head, “Not happening. I have a job to do, and I’m going to do it.”

“Even if I ask you nicely?” Zayne’s smirking when he teases you, and you reach up to poke his cheek. “We can talk about it later, if you ask me nicely.”

[harmonyrae]

To Love a Prince

Synopsis: A feeling without a name. What you’ve felt ever since he walked into the audience hall on the day of your debut. Love at first sight only happens in fairy tales, right?

Content Warnings: SFW (future works could have NSFW elements fyi), plot & heavy angst, bullying - mean girls style, Sera being a blunt badass bitch once again (bless her), feeling invisible & forgotten (idk what that’s called)

Word Count: 7k

“Ellie! Are you positive you don’t want the book?”

Sera’s booming voice echoed up the stairwell making you cringe and brace for impact. A chorus of crying erupts from the bedroom next door and you sigh, so it begins. A blur of white and loud clicks pass your open bedroom door.

“Sera! The twins were sleeping!”

Cora yells down to her and you hear Sera swear. Your mother chastises her before both women climb the stairs to rush into the room with the screaming children. 

“Pamina no… Jane was just falling asleep!”

You step out of your room and lean in the doorway to watch the chaos unfold. Cora picks up her daughter and shifts her to her hip. Your mother chases after Pearl who had crawled out of the bed with her sister. If Leo wasn’t such a well behaved child you’re not sure how Rafayel and Cora could have managed with the twins. The girls are as wild as Winnie was as a child. Strangely enough, the set of twins that Winnie had a year later were nothing like their mother. 

“Jane, I know you are exhausted, please?”

Winnie was desperate, thankfully Zayne scooped his daughter into his arms to give her a moment of rest. He held his children to his chest and hummed in their ears, calming them down almost instantly. 

Cora and Sera tuck Pearl and Pamina in with a sigh of relief. Zayne settles Jane and Darcy into their cot before checking on Avalon. Theo’s daughter could sleep through anything, you’re convinced. 

“Is everything alright?”

Sylus walks in with Rose fast asleep against his shoulder. Sera gives him a kiss on the cheek before carefully taking their daughter to her cot. You could hear muffled giggling from downstairs where Leo and Sephie were playing with Rafayel and Caleb. 

This was your new normal. The past two years had been nothing but babies and whispered conversations at family dinners. You couldn’t even play your piano unless the house was completely empty. Those moments were few and far between nowadays, with your mother urging your sisters and their husbands to bring her grandchildren by. 

If it weren’t for your debut, you’re not sure your mother would even notice your existence. You know it’s unfair to think like this, but you’re rather used to it. Being the youngest, and quietest for that matter, meant sometimes you were just forgotten. It rarely bothered you, you preferred being alone. Reading your book and playing your piano in utter silence was your idea of a perfect day.

“Ellie, you’re quite sure you don’t need the book?”

Sera’s presence next to you takes you by surprise, drawing you back to the room full of babies. Their parents slip past you, tiptoeing out of the doorway you’re partially blocking.

“Yes. I’ll be fine.”

You turn on your heel and return to your room with Sera right behind you. To your surprise, all of your sisters and your mother are waiting for you in your room when you return. You hadn’t even realized they passed you, perhaps you do spend too much time in your head. 

“Sylus said Leo is already sleeping, even Sephie’s giggles can’t wake him.”

Sera plops down next to Cora who leans over onto Sera’s shoulder and closes her eyes. Theo extends her hand to you and you walk back over to your dressing table. You sit and let Theo finish pinning your hair in place, your long hair is usually twisted in a braid so you’re thankful she took over. You were completely lost in how to fix the mess on your head. 

“Has anyone discovered why the Queen has turned the debutante presentation into a circus? 

Winnie examines your bookshelf, pulling a few out to “borrow” as she makes her inquiry. Your mother, laid back on your bed with an arm over her eyes, just groans in response.

“Most likely due to last season being so dull, no young ladies got married at all! And the balls were apparently ‘too bland’ - even the Queens Ball was a disaster.”

“Who knew stuffing a hundred doves in a box could be so gruesome?”

Sera barely contains her laughter. What was meant to be a glorious release, the sky filled with dozens of beautiful doves, turned out to be a catastrophe. Seems the delicate birds are not so “delicate” afterall, especially if they are fighting for air in a confined space. 

“Time to get dressed.”

Theo taps your shoulder and helps you remove your housecoat. Your dress hung loosely on your petite frame, yet another reason you wish you were more like your sisters. At least they had a semblance of a figure, unlike you. Theo ties a silk belt and does her best to accentuate your delicate features.

“Ellie is bound to be the diamond of this season. Even if the Queen wasn’t asking the ladies to, what did she say… ‘prove themselves worthy of the attention” - Ellie would have piqued her interest.”

Spinning around, taking Theo with you, you stare at Winnie. 

“What do you mean?”

“Not only are you well known in society already, playing at nearly every ball you attend each season, but you are also the last Raeton daughter. The Queen always pays special interest to the baby of a noble family. The last bird to leave the nest. The final act of a magnificent play! Society will remember the Raeton name based on what you do.”

Your jaw aches from how you grind your teeth, your fingers rubbing small circles over the tight muscle. Theo pulls your hand away and turns you to face her. 

“Don’t listen to her. This is your first season, today will be the worst of it. You look lovely, Ellie.”

You can’t help but smile, you could always rely on Theo to calm you down after Winnie riled you up. That was the song and dance of your childhood. Cora and Sera in the stable with their horse, Winnie releasing frogs into the sitting room while Theo sat on the couch with her pen and paper, you lifting your feet to avoid the creature while you practiced at the piano. Now, they all have children of their own and you… well you’re still at the piano. 

“Yes, Eleanora, you look beautiful sweetheart. For the first time I am not worried about a debut, even with the Queens theatics. Ellie, you are charming and talented and kind… I have no doubt this season will be kind to you, even if you don’t find a match right away.”

You may be charming, talented and kind, but you are also awkward, high-strung and timid. Regardless of how today goes, you doubt the season will be any less taxing as all those before. 

The carriage ride to the palace was quiet. You breathed a sigh of relief as you leaned back and extended your hands. You close your eyes and move your fingers over the imaginary keys, humming the melody to the sonata you chose to impress the Queen. It was nothing extraordinary, an original piece you wrote when you were a child that you’ve spent half a dozen years perfecting. Today, you didn’t want to be experimental, you wanted to be safe. 

The palace is crowded, young ladies cling to their mothers while couples huddle together to speculate what each of them will be doing. The doors to the audience chamber were usually open upon arrival, allowing family to file in and wait for the Queen. The guards in front of the doors remain completely silent, which only fuels the wildfire of rumors. 

When the doors open, the crowd rushes forward to find a spot to stand. Your grip on your mothers arm grows tighter and she pats your hand, urging you to keep your eyes closed until she says so. You follow her instructions and steady your breathing. Just get through this and you can go home. Everything will be fine. The Queen’s booming voice startles the crowd.

“Today we are welcoming young ladies into society, witnessing the flower bloom. Watching them bask in the sunlight. However, we are also welcoming a distinguished guest, who will be staying at the palace this season, eager to see what our humble society has to offer.”

The crowd becomes lively as families begin to huddle close to whisper and speculate. The Queen clears her throat and continues.

“Our kingdom strives to have an exemplary relationship with all of our neighboring nations. With news of the mounting tension in Philos, we are offering our aide to bring their country back to its former glory. The King has sent his son, the crown prince, to initiate those efforts. He will be joining us this season as our most honored guest. Please, Prince Xavier, join me!”

The crowd goes completely silent as they turn towards the opening doors. A young man enters, dressed in white, his blonde hair swept across his forehead. He scans the crowd as he walks towards the Queen, his bright blue eyes catch the sunlight and shine like clear diamonds. Your throat tightens and your palms become slick with sweat. You’ve never been a nervous person, how is it that just a glimpse of this prince is enough to unsettle you? 

Prince Xavier sits next to the queen and leans back, as if he’s at afternoon tea and not a formal gathering with all of society. The Queen nods to the man standing beside her, he steps forward and begins reading off names. Young ladies step forward, curtsy, greet the queen and announce what they will be presenting. Some ladies sing, some play an instrument, but when Miss Langford drew a rather impressive sketch of the Prince the Queen was elated. 

“Miss Raeton.”

Your mother squeezes your arm when your name is called. She walks with you, arm in arm. You keep your eyes cast down to the floor to avoid the stares of the crowd and the judgemental glare of the Queen. When you reach the front, you curtsy with your mother and wait for the Queen to address you.

“Lady Raeton, she is your youngest, is she not?”

Your mother stiffens and now you’re the one holding her steady.

“Yes, your majesty. She is.” 

“Well, the final Raeton daughter enters society at last. I do look forward to seeing how you fair during your first season. Am I correct in assuming you’ll be performing a piece on the piano forte today?”

“Yes, your majesty.”

She smiles and gestures to the piano that had been set up for the occasion. The placement was curious, right under the largest windows with the drapes pulled back to allow the sun to nearly blind the player. As you sit, you immediately feel the intense heat of the sun and almost giggle at the thought of the Queen trying to intimidate the player with temperature. Luckily, your piano at home was right next to the window and you were very used to playing under such conditions.

You close your eyes and allow your fingers to rest against the keys, visualizing yourself at home without a huge crowd and two royals watching with your entire social standing in the balance. As the first note echoes through the hall, you feel your shoulders relax and your lips curl into a soft smile. You play with gusto, not holding back as you press the keys firmly and confidently. The song is meant to inspire and it does its job, you feel unstoppable. 

As the song ends, you almost feel disappointed, wishing you could play more. When you look up at the Queen she isn’t even looking at you, she’s looking over at the prince. He leans over on the armrest, his chin propped up on his hand, his eyes locked on you. Your cheeks flush, you stand and curtsy once more before rejoining your mother. The next young lady steps forward and the presentation continues, your mother gives you a quick hug while the Queen is distracted.

“That was marvelous, darling. I’m so proud.”

As the presentations come to a close, the Queen stands and clears her throat. 

“Miss Langford? Miss Raeton?”

Upon hearing your name, you almost trip over your own feet. Your mother gives you a gentle shove and you step forward to address the Queen. Miss Langford - tall, curvaceous, gorgeous - sways her hips as she steps up beside you. 

“I would like to formally invite you both, and your mothers, to tea. Retreat to the drawing room and I will send someone to fetch you. I would like an encore performance, wouldn’t you enjoy that as well Prince Xavier?”

Your eyes flick to the prince, who stares at the Queen in surprise. He nods and offers a polite smile to you and Miss Langford. The Queen claps her hands and waves her hands.

“That is all for today! You may go!”

As the hall empties, your mother fights against the crowd to get to you. She holds you close and drags you toward the window. You’re about to complain, but her lips close in next to your ear.

“I just overheard Lady Danton, the Queen intends to find a match for the Prince this season. It is Lady Danton’s opinion that Miss Langford and you, my love, are her top choices for the Prince.” 

You stare at your mother. She must have gone mad to believe a single word Lady Danton said. You? A suitable match for a Prince? Surely not. 

A tall gentleman approaches you and your mother.

“Please follow me.”

Your mother, Lady Langford, Addison Langford and yourself, follow the man through the winding halls of the palace. He opens the door to a large parlor and you see the Queen, the Prince and other royal family members lounging with their tea. The Queen rises and approaches you, after exchanging pleasantries, she gestures for you to sit and enjoy a cup. 

“Please, have some tea. I shall demand the encore once you’ve had time to replenish!” 

Sipping your tea, you try to think what you’ll play next. You had only practiced one song, while you know countless others, you hadn’t expected this. Sudden changes always make you anxious, you can’t seem to catch your breath. Even drinking, quite possibly, the most expensive tea you’ve ever had couldn’t distract you from what your mother had said. Were you truly being considered a match for someone like the Prince?

You spot him by the window, his eyes lit up in the afternoon sun as he examines the palace garden. He’s tall, broad, well-dressed, rather quiet and his face… he’s unbearably handsome. His soft features and wide eyes make him appear almost lost in the chaotic whirlwind of the Queen’s presence. 

Addison approaches him with a sickeningly sweet smile, her curtsy a tad too low, her torso leaning forward until her decolletage was on full display. In front of the Queen? Her own mother? She’s just asking for a scandal with this performance. She makes small talk with the Prince, the corner of his mouth tipping into a polite smile. You wish you were more outgoing, you’d walk up and join the conversation. If Lady Danton is right, you have an equal opportunity to impress him. Wait, why do you care? Do you care?

“Miss Raeton! Do play us another song!”

The Queen chirps from her armchair, her feet propped up on a cushion as a servant refills her tea cup. You look over to your mother and she nods. You can see her cup tremble as she lifts it to her lips. And she thought your debut would be less stressful than your sisters…

You take a seat at the piano, thankful it is positioned in the corner far away from your audience. Perhaps they will just enjoy the soft music and not pay too much attention. Of course your hopes are in vain, as soon as you begin playing a familiar tune the Queen claps.

“I do love this melody, but oh! Prince Xavier? You must know a duet or two, how about you play with Miss Raeton?”

The Prince stares at the Queen, his posture growing tense as everyone in the room focuses on him. He clears his throat and straightens his jacket. 

“Yes, your majesty, I know a few. However, Miss Raeton’s performance is lovely, I would not want to impose.”

“Nonsense! Miss Raeton, you must play with the Prince! I insist!” 

Well, if she insists... You’ve played duets before, but your father was the only one who took the time to practice with you. It’s been years since you’ve had the chance. You look over to the Prince and bow your head, you’re unsure if he will see the gesture as an apology or an invitation. 

“Of course, your majesty.”

You look over at the Prince, whose cheeks flush as he walks towards you. You move over to make room for him to sit. He raises a brow and hesitates, leaning forward just enough to whisper. 

“Are you quite certain you wish to play Secondo?”

A giggle escapes before you can stop it. Your father had encouraged you to learn how to harmonize by ear, and now it was second nature. Typically, the more experienced player would play Secondo, your decision to sit on the left side was a statement. One you were not willing to take back. You sit up straight and flash a smile. 

“Quite.”

The flush staining the Prince’s cheeks deepens as he sits next to you. If this means you would no longer be a worthy candidate for him, so be it. He tilts his head toward you and stretches his fingers over the keys.

“What would you like to play, Miss Raeton?”

His voice dips as he says your name, slow and sweet. You see his lips part to flash a coy smile in your direction. Oh… your heart flutters and your stomach drops. The way he is looking at you out of the corner of his eye is… why are you so nervous?

“Are you familiar with the Sussex Waltz?”

He nods. You turn away from him and place your hands over the keys, waiting for him to begin. You hear him chuckle softly before he begins to play. Your fingers dance across the keys together, his playing the sweet melody while yours harmonize effortlessly. As the song comes to an end, your hands brush against each other, when he doesn’t pull away immediately you nearly fumble the finale. Closing your eyes, you see it through and when you hear the room fill with applause you open them to look over at the Prince.

“You play very well. I must ask, did you compose the piece you played at the debut?”

You nod, your eyes flit back to the keys. His fingers remain beside yours, his pinky brushes against yours as he stretches his fingers. A shiver runs down your spine as he maintains contact, when you glance at him he wears the whisper of a smile. 

“I… I’d very much like to… to play with you again. If you are willing?” 

Your heart flutters, the way his voice shook as he asked… Your cheeks ache from how wide your smile has grown. 

“I would… very much. Yes, I would like that.”

“Your Highness, that was incredible.” Miss Langford curtsies. You notice how she dramatically bats her dark lashes at him. 

“Thank you, Miss Langford. But I believe the praise is better directed to Miss Raeton. I provided the melody, but she brought the piece to life.”

The Prince watches you, his cerulean eyes scan your features like he’s committing you to memory. You’re too distracted by Addison’s glare to notice how the Prince blushes as his eyes dip down to your neck.

“She certainly did! Oh, your Highness, her Majesty told me you were invited to Lord Blackwood’s ball. I do hope you’ll be in attendance.”

You feel the Prince move his hand away, his pinky was still linked with yours when Addison approached - had she noticed? 

“Yes, I… I will be attending.”

“Forgive me for my boldness, your Highness, but I must insist you save me a dance.”

You stare at your hands in your lap, Addison has always been confident while you hide in the shadows. The way she smiles and dances, graceful and elegant, she’d be a perfect princess. 

“O-of course.”

You stand and curtsy, whispering your thanks and farewells to the pair. You don’t stand a chance. 

“She insisted he save her a dance, he agreed and then he didn’t ask for you to save him a dance?!”

Your fingers spasm causing you to hit the wrong key, turning the soft tune sharp. You’d been playing all morning and your hands were aching, but your newly discovered anxiety had kept you up all night. Playing is the only thing that can calm you down. Your sisters had left to take the children to Rafayel’s aunt’s house a few hours ago. Talia was kind enough to volunteer to watch them overnight, which meant your sisters could truly enjoy the ball. So when they returned to prepare for the ball they were shocked to see you were still seated at your piano. 

Sera sent the rest of your sisters away, promising to get you ready. Cora made her promise to “be nice” and Theo gave her a stern look - they really must think you are too fragile for Sera’s bluntness. Sera nearly shoved them through the door before pulling a chair over to the piano. She propped her feet up on the stool next to your thigh and threw an arm over her eyes. 

“Go on, tell me what’s wrong. And don’t say you’re alright, I know you’re not.”

Thus began the story about your interaction with the Prince, his lingering touch and Addison’s interruption. Sera’s demeanor had shifted from “tell me your problems” to “let’s plot” rather quickly. Now, she was positively livid at the notion the Prince hadn’t asked you to save a dance tonight. 

“I… he was probably surprised by how forward she had been…”

“He’s a Prince! Surely he’s been trained to handle surprising encounters with more dangerous adversaries! And yet he could not muster up the courage to ask the young lady, who he's obviously more interested in, to save him a dance? It is positively ridiculous!” 

“Sera…”

“No! I do not care if he is a Prince. You deserve better! A man who will tell other young ladies that he is not interested. I have known you all your life, you think I do not know that you only play Beethoven and skip tea when you’re upset. Did you even sleep last night?”

You pull your hands back and stare at them in your lap. You hadn’t realized how intuitive Sera was, or that she’d paid attention to your habits so closely. Your silence tells Sera all she needs to know. 

“Ellie… you’re losing sleep over someone who you do not truly know and who is treating you as an option. You are not an option. And if he had any sense, he would have seen that right away.”

“She’s right.”

Sylus’s voice startles both of you. Sera drops her feet off your stool and turns to face him.

“You do not even know what we are discussing!”

Sylus strolls in and settles onto the sofa, unbuttoning his overcoat as he leans back. He smiles, winking at you before he narrows his eyes on his wife.

“Do I need to know? Even if I disagree, I know better than to say so when you’re using that tone, my love.”

Sera scoffs and crosses her arms.

“What do you mean I have a tone? What tone is that, exactly?”

You touch your lips to remind yourself not to laugh, you’ve missed how passionate Sera can become. Sylus loves to tease her, riling her up just to see what she’ll say. 

“The tone of a big sister fighting for better treatment for her little sister. Feisty, with the right amount of bite.”

Sera deflates, her shoulders relaxing as she realizes his intent. 

“Well… she does, does she not?”

“That is why I agreed.” 

Sera turns back around, her cheeks are flushed, but there’s a subtle smile she’s trying to suppress. She looks up at you and tries her best to look stern. 

“Do not give him any more of your attention.”

“Pardon?!” Sylus chirps.

Sera flips her hair over her shoulder and scowls at Sylus.

“I’m talking about the Prince, you crow! Now sit up or you’ll wrinkle!”

Sylus chuckles turn into a belly laugh when you snort. Sera stares at both of you with her arms crossed. She stands and grabs your elbow, pulling you up.

“I despise you both. Come on, you need to get ready.”

Sera guides you upstairs to your room, she begins pulling dresses from your wardrobe - completely ignoring the dress hanging up on the door.

“You are not wearing that boring old thing. We will find you a dress that will make the Prince regret his indecision. He shall watch you dance all night long with the knowledge that his cowardice caused him to lose his chance to be with Eleanora Diana Raeton.”

You don’t argue with her, you’re not only too tired, but also the thought of the Prince staring at you all night… It may be improper, but it is a nice feeling. 

Sera braids your hair and twists the ends securing them with a few bejeweled pins and twists loose strands into delicate waves. Putting your simple dress to the side, Sera pulls one of your more… opulent… dresses over your head. The square neckline and heavy beading flatters your small chest and the wispy sleeves fall elegantly over your shoulders. Your best gloves fit snugly around your upper arms and the necklace around your neck is your absolute favorite. 

“How do you feel?”

Sera looks at you in the mirror, her hands smooth the soft ivory fabric before wrapping around your waist to hug you.

“I feel… beautiful...”

Sera’s smile lights up the room.

“Good. Enjoy yourself tonight, dance, drink, be merry. Do not let the Prince ruin your happiness. And if he asks to dance? Refuse him.”

“Sera!”

“What? Just tell him your card is full and he should have secured a dance last night…”

With that, she turns to bounce out of the room. You giggle to yourself, if only you had the courage to do what she suggests. You make your way back to the dayroom to play the piano until the rest of your party is ready to depart. Your mother is shocked at your choice of dresses, but praises you for your boldness.

The ride to the Blackwood’s manor is filled with the latest gossip. Miss Reed has accepted an arranged marriage, Miss Tate was caught with the stable boy, Miss Krout spent the winter courting Lord Winslow only to reject his offer of marriage. You should really write all of this down, there’s too many scandals to remember.

Lord Blackwood welcomes your family and almost immediately after being announced, everyone breaks off. Rafayel and Cora make for the garden, Sylus and Sera search for wine, Caleb and Theo waste no time joining the other dancing couples and Zayne and Winnie find themselves surrounded by pregnant guests asking for advice. 

You cling to your mother, who whispers encouraging words in your ear. You spot the Queen, seated next to a large floral arrangement, which she is immensely displeased with by the looks of it. Her companions keep her laughing and her glass full. 

Eventually, you see Addison with her usual group, huddled together in a corner. Addison occasionally points to a young lady, eliciting a giggle from the rest of the gaggle. When she spots you she immediately starts walking over. You sip your wine and say a prayer, your fingers digging into your mothers arm just as she arrives in front of you.

“Lady Raeton! Miss Raeton, how lovely to see you both. Eleanora, I barely recognized you… your dress is gorgeous.”

You feel your mother tense, you’re glad she can also sense how insincere Addison is. Before you can reply the booming voice of the announcer echoes through the hall. 

“Prince Xavier of Philos!”

Every head turns to the giant staircase, the Prince stands at the top, he nods to the crowd as politely as he can. His hair is slicked back, with his white double-breasted tailcoat and matching trousers he looks like an angel in the candlelight. He begins to slowly descend the stairs and Addison immediately rushes past you towards him. You hear your mother sigh loudly.

“She’s rather eager isn’t she? She’ll make a young man very irritated… I mean happy one day.”

“Mama!” You gasp.

She chuckles and pats your arm. 

“Do not wait on him all night. Mr Jeremiah Bloom appears to be very interested in taking you for a waltz.”

You stare at her for a moment, it’s rare that your mother and Sera agree on something. But it seems waiting on the Prince to “choose you” is something neither woman wants for you. You search the room for Jeremiah and find him by the dessert table. He tries to appear nonchalant, but you noticed how he’d turned his head away a moment before. Taking a deep breath you make your way across the room.

Keeping your head down, you make your way past the Prince and Addison, only stopping briefly to curtsy before continuing. Your chest aches when you don’t hear the Prince say anything, but when you look over your shoulder you see Addison dragging him to the dance floor. 

“Miss Raeton, coming to inspect the offerings?”

You smile, eyeing Jeremiah as he places a small cake on his plate. He’s an attractive man, curly brown hair, bright eyes, and a sweet voice.

“Mr Bloom, yes, it appears they have a lovely spread this evening.”

He nods, his cheeks turning rosy as you step a bit closer. 

“I must say, I am surprised to see you in attendance, usually your shop keeps you busy all season. Did you provide the arrangements tonight?”

“Yes! Ahh yes, I did. I am invited to every event my shop provides arrangements for, I do not usually attend. I was able to hire a delivery boy this season, so I had more time to relax after finishing the designs.”

You examine the flower arrangement on the table. The pink roses are in full bloom, bright and fragrant. It seems his garden was blessed this season. 

“They’re beautiful…”

“Thank you… Miss Raeton, I would… I would very much like to ask you to –”

“Miss Raeton?” 

Jeremiah’s face pales as he looks at the man standing behind you. The voice is sharp and deep, when you turn to face the man you’re shocked to see the Prince standing a tad too close. Your eyes blow wide when you see him, your legs shake as you try to curtsy, you lose your balance and he catches you.

“Your Highness, I lost my footing, forgive me.”

“I would like to ask if you would honor me with a dance?”

He holds onto your arm, his eyes locked on yours. 

CRASH

A waiter drops a tray of champagne behind you, glass shatters as the liquid soaks into the back of your dress. You gasp, shifting forward, the Prince holds onto you, but your other hand flails and lands right into the top layer of a decadent cake on the table next to you. With the back of your dress wet with champagne, your hand coated in sugar and your confidence sinking into the floor, you let out a pitiful cry. 

You pull your arm away from the Prince and bend to pick up the bottom of your dress. Carefully maneuvering around the broken glass you rush to an open doorway. You can hear the waiter apologizing profusely and the hurried footsteps of the Prince behind you. 

“Miss Raeton!”

You don’t stop. You’re turning the corner when you hear Addison’s voice. Peaking around the corner you see Addison standing with the Prince, her hand on his arm. She leans closer and places her other hand on his shoulder. Your throat tightens, your cheeks burn, tears spill before you can stop them. Your cake-coated hand drops, smearing across your already ruined dress. 

“Miss Raeton will need time to clean up. Would it not be better for your Highness to dance and mingle while you wait for her to return? Surely, she would not wish for you to worry yourself with her condition. Come, dance with me until she returns.”

She tugs his arm and turns him around, leading him back to the dance floor. You’re about to back away and continue your search for a place to clean yourself when you see the waiter. He's still kneeling on the floor picking up broken glass, but he looks up at the Prince and Addison as they pass. The man smiles at Addison, he nods and chuckles to himself as they pass him. 

No. She wouldn’t. Would she? Who would believe you?

You bite your lip and a tear slides from your cheek into your mouth. The salty aftertaste of your tears serves as a reminder - you never stood a chance. You race down the hallway until you find a servant who points you in the direction of a cloakroom. When you find the door, you hurry inside and search for a towel. You pour water into a basin and clean your hand before turning your attention to your dress. The beautiful ivory discolored, drenched from your knee down, the bitter scent of the champagne lingers no matter how much you wipe at the fabric. 

There’s a knock at the door, your mother or one of your sisters must have seen the incident and made their way to you. Sitting down on a chaise to slip off your soaked slippers. 

“Y-yes, come in.” You stutter through a sob, barely looking up when the door opens.

“I-I’m alright, I think I should go… I should go home.” You sniffle loudly.

“Eleanora.”

You stand so quickly you almost tumble over, the Prince shuts the door silently before slowly making his way over to you. Using the back of your hand you dry your cheeks and blink rapidly to dispel any remaining tears. 

“Y-your Highness, you should not…”

“I should not be here?”

He stands in front of you, his brows knit together with concern. You watch the concern turn to frustration as you step aside, trying to create distance. 

“I… I am not…”

That feeling without a name wells up deep in your chest. You’re exhausted and angry, so angry. Why is he wasting his time with you? Why is he here? Addison is waiting for him. You grip the towel in your hands so tightly your fingers start to hurt. Finally, you huff and look up at him directly.

“I do not need your pity. Your intentions should remain elsewhere. I am sure Miss Langford will be a splendid Princess.”

You stalk past him only to be caught and hauled backwards. His hand wraps around your waist, an arm slinking up your back to pull you flush against him. When his lips find yours every inch of your skin is set ablaze. The room fades to white, you drop the towel and grab onto his shoulders, fingernails digging into the fabric of his coat as he deepens the kiss. Something deep in your stomach begins to coil and writhe, your hips press closer to his. He groans softly, which makes that feeling bloom. He pulls back, resting his forehead against yours. His hand settles on the side of your neck, thumb tracing your jaw.

“Never suggest any other woman would ever be worthy of that title.”

His whispered words bring fresh tears to your eyes. He moves his fingers to your chin, his nose rubs against your cheek lovingly. 

“Ever since I saw you sit down at that piano I’ve thought of nothing but you. You closed your eyes, your fingers danced across the keys, your smile… Like the music was singing to you, telling you a secret only you’d understand. I had forgotten what that felt like… to feel for the sake of feeling.”

His thumb traces your lower lip, his own lips drag across your cheek to your jaw. You close your eyes, letting the world fade away as you embrace this moment.

“All I’ve ever known is my duty to the crown. But you reminded me of something I’d long forgotten. Something dead and buried. I did not believe in love until the moment I saw you. You may think I’m mad…”

“No…”

He leans back just enough to meet your eye.

“I do not… think you are mad.”

The corner of his mouth twitches and you lean in to kiss it. He shudders, his hands moving up and down your back like he’s afraid to let go.

“I only want you… please…”

“Your Highness, I –”

“Xavier. Please, please call me by my name.”

You pause, every argument dissolving on your tongue. Love, the feeling without a name. What you’ve felt ever since he walked in the audience hall that day. Love at first sight only happens in fairy tales, right? No. You’ve never been so sure of anything. You love him.

“Xavier…” You whisper.

A soft gasp, he stares at your lips.

“Xavier…” You whisper again, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, your fingers sliding through his soft hair.

“Xavier…”

He closes the distance, his lips capture yours once more. The tenderness from the first kiss has melted into something passionate and raw. His lips move with intensity, faster and deeper than before. He moans and you shiver, gasping at the warmth that spreads through your chest. As his tongue slips in and your knees give out. He holds onto you, backing you both up until you feel the chaise behind you. He lowers you both onto it, one of his hands dipping to pull your leg up to his side. His fingers dig into your thigh and you whimper, letting one of your hands drop down to his face. His skin is hot, his pulse rapid, you want more. 

“Xavier…”

Whispering his name against his lips proves to be your undoing, he groans and dips his lips to your neck. He presses open mouth kisses down the side, to your collarbone and across your chest. His hand begins to pull up your skirt and he lifts himself up to look at you. You nod, urging him to continue whatever he has planned. Caution long forgotten, the feeling of safety, happiness, love… That’s all you want to feel.

His hand dips under your skirt and traces your inner thigh. You gasp, your chest rising and falling faster as he continues to place kisses to your heated flesh. His fingers move higher and higher as his lips capture yours again. Your stomach tightens with anticipation, more, more, more… 

Click

“Oh! Your Highness!”

Xavier flies backward, standing and taking a step back. You stand and straighten your dress, your eyes locking with Xavier for a moment before looking towards the door.

“Miss Raeton…”

Addison Langford stands by the door, a hand over her heart, her face barely holding back her rage. She closes the door and steps further into the room. 

“Eleanora Raeton. I am… Well, I am shocked.”

“Addison…”

“Your Highness, I do hope you are not considering a union with a compromised woman.” 

She looks over her shoulder at the door, you can hear muffled voices in the hallway. 

“Addison please…”

“You shall call on me early in the morning, your Highness. I am sure my mother will be delighted to accept your offer to marry me.”

Xavier hands curl into fists, he takes another step forward.

“I am certainly not the only guest to see Miss Raeton enter this cloakroom. And I did not come alone. I imagine the gossip will be damning when you are seen leaving, your Highness. I may, if so inclined, be willing to dampen those rumors.”

You sob, your hands clutch your stomach. Xavier turns to look at you, he reaches out but you back away. His face twists, anger and desperation melt into helplessness. Someone of his standing, even if he’s the one who compromised you it would be disgraceful for him to propose to you. His father would never approve of the marriage, he wouldn’t accept a woman like you as the future Queen of Philos. Even if Addison covers up your indiscretion, she has the upper hand. You stumble forward, locking eyes with Addison. She has the audacity to smile, but why not? She won.

You open the door and let it swing open fully. Outside, Addison’s mother waits for her, the moment she sees you she gasps. She steps forward and looks past you, seeing her daughter and the Prince inside. You close your eyes and slide past her, but you still hear her mutter under her breath. 

“Disgraceful…”

You continue down the hall, looking up to see the hall lined with a few of the Prince’s guards. They must have accompanied him. A few guests just stare, leaning to look past you. You hear their gasps and whispers as the Prince exits the cloakroom. Your name on their lips, your dress askew, the Prince’s hair a mess - the damage is done. 

Ducking down another hallway, you break into a sprint. Your shoes forgotten in the cloakroom, the cool wooden floors under your feet turn to gravel as you rush through the front door of the manor. You run, your lungs burn and your eyes sting, but you don’t stop. You stumble and fall, your knees and palms breaking open on impact. 

“Miss Raeton!”

Mr Wilson, your family's coachman, rushes to your side. He kneels and pulls his handkerchief from his breast pocket, dabbing at your bloody palms. You look up at him with tear filled eyes. 

“P-please take m-me home.”

Mr Wilson helps you up and escorts you to the carriage. He pulls out a blanket from under the seat and wraps it around your shoulders.

“I will find a servant to tell your mother where you’ve gone. I will be back in a moment.”

He turns and jogs to the house. You sit alone, shivering and bloody. You’ve ruined your reputation. You’ve ruined your family's reputation. And worst of all…

Your heart is completely shattered. ✨♔❤️‍🔥✨

AN: I know. I hurt my own feelings with this one... This is it for Part 1 of the Regency AU series. There will be a Part 2 eventually, which will be the conclusion for each story. Part 2 may have smut or there will be a "bonus chapter" for that. I like how it's SFW yet suggestive imo - let me know what you think!

If you're curious, CLICK HERE to see a breakdown for each couple & their kids/ages. I know it's a lot to keep track of when reading lol

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer @lilyadora @crowskitten22 @letharue @silverbrain @alastor-simp @drama-trauma @0tterteeth @mysticcollectionvoid @godzillaglitter @godoffuckedupcats @klmpun @ariallaisawesome @kiude @tati-the-fangirl @mtcozylove @3fingersofscotch @stxrrielle @angelicspaceprince @hebreeee @beykyuns @sylusgirlie7 @goblynn @moonberry69 @laddelulu30 @mariojins @zhongtar @emneedshelp @xsammijoanneex @bubbleteakittyy @canta-loop @sylus-crow @mikachux3 @msturi2u @katasstrophie @never-justforever @rione-x @lalaluch @bruisedchickensoup @creator-freak

[sinnabarmoth]

Broken Promises

Pairing: Rafayel x fem|Reader

Summary: Reader thinks that her relationship with Rafayel is a fling, some casual fun. Rafayel does not. So when he catches her flirting with other guys he is intent on making sure she knows that he did not wait 800 years to be a second choice.

Content warnings: Adult language. Hate fucking. Vaginal fingering. P in V.

Length: 5k

“Thank you for another fine day of work, miss bodyguard.”

You picked your head up from Rafayel’s shoulder and glared at him. 

“What’s that face for?” he asked.

You rolled your eyes and sat up, the blanket that had been covering you slipped down exposing your naked chest which Rafayel took no precautions in hiding his ogling. You grabbed his chin and forced his gaze back up to your face. “Do not start calling you tricking me into coming over as work. You know I thought you were in actual danger?”

He melted into your touch, resting his chin fully in your hand like an attention starved puppy. “I was in danger.”

“A teeny tiny spider is not dangerous.” You let him go, crossing your arms over your chest so his view was obstructed.

“Sure it is. Do you know how many tiny spiders are super venomous? Black widow. Brown recluse. Yellow sac spider.” he ticked them off one by one on his fingers.

“Mister fish facts has spider facts too. How fun.” You rolled out of bed and started grabbing your scattered clothes from the floor and pulling them back on. How the hell did your panties get on the lamp? Did he chuck them like he was pitching for the Linkon Lions?

“Do you have to leave?” Rafayel asked, sitting up to watch you move around the room.

“Sure I do. I have work in the morning.”

“I could take you to work in the morning.”

“And wear what? The clothes I was in when I rushed over here? No thanks.” You didn’t think Jenna would be happy to see you at work wearing your lilac sweats and fuzzy character socks.

“I could send someone to pick up an outfit from your house.”

You glanced at him as you pulled your shirt back on. “You are super clingy tonight. Something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong it’s just…” he was staring down at the rumpled sheets of the bed, smoothing out the creases around him, “you always leave so soon after.”

“Well unlike a certain artist, I have duties and errands to run and can’t spend all my day in bed or on the couch…or in the hot tub…or against the wall--”

“Yeah yeah, I get it. You have a million things more important than me.” he slumped back against the headboard. “I’ll just stay here and rot won’t I. Waiting for my bodyguard to come check on me when she feels like it. Who knows if I’ll be even still be alive when she deigns me worthy of her attention.”

“You are so dramatic. Remember that you tricked me into coming over here to squish a spider and then corralled me into the bedroom almost immediately after.” you plonked down on the bed next to him. “If you want me to come over cause you want to have sex then you can just say that. We’re both adults.”

“Takes all the romance out of it then.”

“Now you’re worried about being romantic?” you shook your head. “Will wonders never cease.”

His expression did not soften out of his pout. With a small sigh you scooted closer. “Hey, how about I stop by tomorrow to see you after work. Okay?”

He perked up at that. “Promise?”

“Yeah. I’ll buy us some chicken and we can put on a movie that we will probably abandon watching for some other fun.” You held out a pinky to him. “I promise.”

He looped his pinky finger around yours. “You made a vow. You can’t break it now.”

“You are racking up vows, aren’t you? First to never keep you waiting, now this. If this keeps up we’re gonna have to start writing down all the promises we make.” you teased and his face fell again. Oh no.

You gave a little tug on your intertwined fingers and pulled him closer, placing a quick kiss on his mouth. “There. A vow sealed with a kiss. Feel better?”

“Much.” he smiled softly at you. “See you tomorrow, cutie.”

~~~

The work day was a long and tedious one. You had spent nearly all day patrolling and ended up fighting a whole horde of Wanderers that had taken up in an abandoned warehouse. By the end of the day you were in desperate need of some relaxation and perhaps a stiff drink. So when Tara announced that everyone was going out for drinks after work to celebrate the impressive job you and the other hunters did on raiding the warehouse you were more than happy to come along.

You were two drinks deep and starting on a third. The stress of the day melted away, replaced with the warm fuzziness that was your buzz. Thank goodness it was the weekend so you didn’t need to worry about getting up early with the hangover you were working towards developing.

At some point a drinking game got started. There was a piece of paper that had every body’s name written on it. The point of the game was that if some flipped a coin and it landed on that person’s name they had to drink. If it landed on a blank space they got to write a rule until the paper was completely full.

Soon the paper was full of outlandish rules, each getting progressively more “creative” the longer you went on. It was your turn and you flipped the coin. You had been aiming for Nero’s name and ended up hitting the rule an inch below it. “Text the last person you messaged a bad selfie.”

You sighed but pulled out your phone and brought up the camera. You twisted your face into a funny and unflattering expression and went to your messages. You couldn’t remember the last person you texted and prayed it wasn’t someone embarrassing.

Please don’t be Zayne. Please don’t be Zayne. Please don’t be Zayne!

You let out a small breath of relief seeing that Zayne was not in fact at the top of your messages. Rafayel was. You opened the chat and sent the picture without any context.

You rolled your eyes at your co-worker’s laughter and resumed watching the others play the game. Yet, you could not focus entirely. It felt like you were forgetting something but you couldn’t remember what. Trying to think with your head awash in cocktails wasn’t exactly helping your memory. All your brain was coming up with was chickens.

Well, if you couldn’t remember it couldn’t have been that important.

You leaned over towards the person next to you, he was another hunter but you hadn’t spoken all that much since he wasn’t on Alpha Team. You weren’t sure of his name but maybe it was Jasper or Jordan. To be blunt there wasn’t anything remarkable about him but he did have a very nice face and a rather infectious laugh. His arm had been resting against the back of your chair but now settled on your shoulders.

“So,” you leaned closer to be heard over the music of the bar, “if you are a hunter I’m guessing you have a preference on which weapon you like using.”

“I do.” he said. “Do you want to know?”

“No. I’m gonna guess but first I need your hand.” you held your hand out for him.

“Okay.” he said with an easy smile and held his hand up. “Why?”

“Think of it as palm reading, but instead of telling your future I’m telling your preferred weapon.” you placed your palm against his. “Hmm, yes.” You nodded very seriously before linking your hands together. “It’s coming to me. With big strong hands like this, your preferred weapon is a claymore.”

He smirked at your flirting. “That is quite the talent you have. I do indeed prefer the claymore. After handling it for so long, throwing anything around whether it be light or heavy is a piece of cake.”

“I bet that comes in handy.”

“It sure does.” he tugged you closer. “It comes in very handy for many different…scenarios.”

You couldn’t tell if the heat in your face was from the drink or his implication but either way it made you feel tingly all over.

“So, what are you doing after this?” Jacob or Jasper asked, his face a mere breath away from yours.

You were yanked back so hard you almost tipped out of your chair completely. You scrambled to see who had grabbed you and saw Rafayel standing above you, a fistful of the back of your shirt in his hand. “You broke your promise.”

~~~

Rafayel had felt something was wrong when his alarm went off that told him your shift had ended and he didn’t hear anything from you. Then a half hour had passed and there had still been no word from you. Maybe you had gone home to change. He tried texting you but had gotten no response. Your battery was low, surely. That’s why you hadn’t texted back.

After an hour he had started pacing, more excuses for your absence filtering through his brain. You could have been picking up the chicken like you said and there was a long line. That had to be it.

Two hours went by. Was there traffic?

Three hours. Maybe there was a Wanderer attack. Were you okay?

He was about ready to go out looking for you when a message came through his phone. It was from you! He opened it expecting any number of excuses and apologies but instead it was just a picture. You were at some bar and were making a very stupid face at the camera. That wasn’t what had caught his attention though. It was the arm that was wrapped around you oh so casually. The pig it was attached to was leering at you in the top left corner of the shot.

Rafayel felt many emotions shoot through him in the span of five seconds of seeing your message. Relief. Confusion. Dejection. Anger. Then pure hot resentment.

You had broken your promise to him to go out to a bar with this scumbag that touched you so casually? No. This would not stand. He was going to go get you. He had to study the picture a bit more to figure out which bar you were at. Thankfully there was a cocktail napkin printed with the bar name on it within the shot.

He sped over as fast as he could and burst into the bar. His gaze swept over the bustling room until he saw a large group sitting near the back. You were among them and that pig from the picture was right next to you, his hand laced with yours and hunger in his eyes. He waited to see you pull away, to tell him to fuck off but you didn’t. You leaned in closer, batting your eyelashes and smiling at him in that way that teasing smirk that drew Rafayel crazy. That was meant for him! Why were you flirting with someone else! Why!

He had charged forward as your faces drew closer. No. He would not see you kiss someone else! He would not suffer that indignity tonight as well!

He grabbed the back of our shirt and pulled you swiftly away from the man. The thundering of his heart was pounding in his ears. “You broke your promise.” he seethed.

You blinked and he could see your brain trying to catch up. “Raf--what are--why are you here? Let go of me!”

“Not a chance.” he grabbed you underneath the armpits and pulled you out of your chair. “You have had enough to drink. We are going home.”

“Hey!” the pig stood up. “Who do you think you are? You can’t just take her.”

“She’s my girlfriend and she’s wasted, so I think I am more than justified in getting her out of this dive.” Rafayel started to drag you away. “Come on.”

He dragged you out to the car despite your protests and shoved you into the passenger seat and buckled your seatbelt for you. Once you were in the car a lot of the fight went out of you. He shoved a water bottle at you and told you to drink as much as you could. When you didn’t oblige he stayed glaring at you until you had swallowed the whole thing. Then he pulled out another and told you to keep drinking. “I need you sober. So keep hydrating.”

By the time Rafayel had gotten back to his house you had drank another full bottle of water and the glassy sheen of drunkenness was ebbing away. The anger and pain his chest was still boiling but he kept his mouth clamped shut until you were inside.

For what felt like forever you stood in the foyer, looking everywhere but at him and not saying a word. When you dared to meet his gaze again he noticed you flinch as guilt shot through you. “Raf, I’m sorry. I had a really stressful day at work and I completely forgot about our chicken and movie plans. I swear I will make it up to you tomorrow--”

“Who the fuck was he?” Rafayel cut you off.

You paused your stammering and stared at him, brows knit in confusion. “What? Who?”

“That pig that was hanging off of you at the bar. Who is he?” he demanded.

“What does that have to do--”

“Answer the question!”

You snapped to attention, shock and indignation sharpening your features. “You do not talk to me like that! I know you’re pissed that I forgot our plans but you do not yell at me like that. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” Rafayel felt like laughing. Laugh like he was mad. “I want to know why you were flirting with someone else. Did you even realize that he was two seconds from kissing you?”

“Uh yeah? That was kinda the whole point of us flirting. Why are you getting so worked up about this?” you settled your hands on your hips. “Do you know what everyone is going to think now that you announced to all my co-workers that you are my boyfriend? No one is gonna want to get anywhere near me now. Thanks for that.”

“Is that what you want? To be with other people?”

“Wait. I’m confused. When did we ever establish that we were exclusive? I thought this was casual. Why are you being so possessive all of a sudden?” you asked.

“Because you are mine!” he shouted. He charged forward caging you against the wall. “This is not something casual to me and it shouldn’t be for you either! You are mine and mine alone I will be damned if I see someone else lay hands on what belongs to me.”

“Raf, where is all this coming from all of a sudden? Did you really think that we were in some serious arrangement?”

“You promised.” he repeated, angry tears threatening to spill.

“I know. I know. I promised to come over but I told you that I forgot--”

“No. You promised. You always promise. You keep making promises to me and you keep on breaking them! For eight hundred years you’ve been breaking your promises and I am tired of it! No more! You do not get to break my heart any more!” he seized you by the arms, staring into your eyes, willing something to unlock in your mind.

“Why do you never remember?” he said, his voice quieting. “Why do you keep breaking your promises?”

“What are you talking about? Eight hundred years? I don’t know what it is you are upset about. Did the coral finally get to your head now too?”

“For fuck’s sake.” Rafayel couldn’t take this anymore. He slammed his lips to yours, forcing your lips apart and pushing his tongue into your mouth. He did not yield until your tense body melted into his arms and you started to kiss him back.

He pulled back, breathing heavily. “Eight hundred years.” he muttered. “I know you don’t remember but I am going to make you. I am going to remind you in one way or another that you have always been mine. That you will only ever be mine. If I cannot make your mind remember then I will emblazon it on your body, etch my name into your bones so you never forget again.”

“Rafayel, why--”

“Yes or no?” he said, desperate to claim you but refused to move without your consent. “That’s all I need.”

“Are you going to talk to me about what the fuck is going on in that head of yours?” you snapped, impatience stoking you back into a rage.

Yes. Be angry. Be vengeful. But be mine.

“After.” his hands moved to your hips, pressing your body against his. “Now yes or no?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

His lips were back on yours, pouring all the frustration and desire he had into it. Mine. He thought. Only mine.

You started to slump as your knees buckled and he pulled back, keeping his arms locked around you as you made your way deeper into the studio. There was a fire roiling through his blood and it screamed at him to make you his. He didn’t have the patience to take you to the bedroom and instead tossed you onto the couch when it came into view.

He hovered above you and grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back to look at him. Your lips were parted and panting slightly, eyes wide with rage and lust and defiance. By the tides he loved it. He loved everything about you. If only you would say the same of him.

He kissed you again until you were breathless. There was still a taste of alcohol on your tongue. It tasted like rum and oranges, the sear and tang of summer overwhelming his senses with every swipe of your tongue against his. He wanted to get drunk off the taste. Wanted nothing else but reminders of you. Your taste, your scent, your warmth.

He left your swollen lips to trail his mouth down your neck, sucking dark bruises onto the sensitive flesh. A gasp left your mouth as his teeth sunk down above your pulse. You had always been so adamant about not leaving marks where other people could see them. Well no more. Everyone would know you were spoken for. No one would be able to question who you belonged to ever again. You included.

His free hand fumbled for the buttons of your shirt before impatience took over and he ripped it open instead. Buttons popped from their seams and flew off in different directions as your body was finally exposed to him.

“Hey! This is a work shirt!” you huffed, picking at one of the buttons that still held onto the shirt by a stretched thread.

“I’ll buy you another.” he slid the ruined shirt off and continued the descent of his mouth down your chest. “If you don’t want the rest of your clothes to meet the same fate, I’d advise in taking them off quickly.”

“Raf--”

“You have ten seconds. Be quick.” he stood up and started counting down.

It took you a moment to catch on that he was not indeed joking and to spare your clothes from decimation you quickly untied and tugged off your boots and were trying your best to shimmy out of your pants. Rafayel also began to shrug out of clothes, not as panicked as you were as he kicked off his shoes and pulled his shirt off over his head. By the time he got to zero you had just managed to kick your pants off and were reaching for the clasp of your bra.

“Too slow.” he pinned you back against the couch his knee slotting in the spaced between your legs, pressing close to your clothed cunt. You tried to stifle it but he heard the low whine of arousal that hummed in your throat. He pressed knee closer, letting you grind on it. He could feel wet you were getting. The evidence of your arousal soaking through your panties and wetting his pants.

He reached around behind your back and undid the clasp that held your bra in place and tore it off. You were lost in your own little world, grinding against his leg like an animal in heat. Your sweet moans filled the air as his hands cupped your breasts an tweaked your nipples into hard peaks. So sweet. So beautiful. And all of it his. At least, it should have been. The idea that someone out there possibly had seen this version of you, had driven you into this state made his blood boil. Who else had you been with when you weren’t with him? Had you ever left him and gone off to be with someone else? Did you moan for them like you did for him? Did you speak such filthy and beautiful words in their ears like you did with him? How many others had been tasting your lips after him?

“How long?” he asked, eyes trained on your face.

Your eyes which had been closed in ecstasy cracked open again. “What?” you breathed out.

“How long have you been flirting with others?” he said and your eyes widened. “Answer me.”

“I thought you said we were going to talk about this after.” you said. “Why--ah!” he gave a sharp squeeze to your breast.

“Answer the question.”

“I--I don’t know.” your hips kept moving, kept pushing yourself closer to the sweet release your body craved. You were getting close, he could tell.

“Yes you do. Now answer. Have you been flirting with others the entire time we’ve been together?”

“Raf--”

He pulled back, leaving you cold and panting against the couch, your precious orgasm right out of reach. “Answer or this ends now.”

“Yes.” you answered, your voice quiet. “I guess you could say it was happening the entire time, even before we met.”

Icy dread so cold it felt like burning coursed through him. He pushed you down so you were sprawled across the cushions of the couch. His hand pushed against the soaked materials of your panties, teasing your clit through the cotton.

“And how many touched you like this, hm?” he rubbed your clit harder. “How many of them did you fuck?”

“None of them. I promise. I didn’t sleep with anyone else.” That was a small relief. Your body had remained his, but what of your heart?

He pushed the material aside and plunged two fingers into your weeping hole. “And why not?” he continued, stretching your walls and curling his fingers in the way he knew drove you mad with want. “You had no problem flirting with them. Letting them touch you, letting them kiss you. Why not give your body over completely? Is that where your conscience kicked in? Remembered you already had someone when things got that far, did you?”

“Didn’t--didn’t--” you were struggling to form words, “Didn’t like them that much.”

“So if you liked them more you’d let them touch you like this?” his thumb pressed against your swollen clit, adding to the sensations you were already feeling. “You’d let them put their fingers in you, touch your most sensitive spots, let them taste how sweet your arousal is? All it would take is a few more sweet words and you’d let them fuck you. Drive their dick into you like they own it, own you. Is that what you’re saying.”

“No. No--fuck! Raf, I never wanted to fuck any of them.” your words kept wavering as he kept you dancing just out of reach of release. “I promise.”

There was that word again. Promise.

“Your promises mean nothing anymore. You’ve proven that.” his pace got faster and your legs squirmed and kicked as your orgasm raced forward with frightening speed. “Why should I believe you this time?”

It was as if his words had ignited something hot in you The wanton need and delirium of pleasure snapped and you surged up as your pussy clamped down hard on his fingers, arousal gushing from your hole as you came. You had grabbed him by the shoulders and forced your mouth against his, kissing him hungrily. You kept pushing, forcing him down against the couch, trapping him under you just as he had done.

You pulled away, tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth as you withdrew. The momentary bliss was gone when he saw the rage written across your face. You sat straddled across him, chest heaving in the aftermath of your orgasm. You hastily unbuckled his belt and were shoving his pants further down his hips so his cock was free from their confines. “Now listen here and listen well you prima donna!” you growled, teasing the wet tip of his cock in your hand. “You are going to believe me when I say this: I never wanted to fuck any of the people I flirted with. That’s all it ever was, flirting. If you wanted us to be something more serious you should have fucking said so sooner!”

His nostrils flared as you worked over the hard flesh of his erection. He tried to grab you but you smacked his hands away. “You do not get to be angry at me for treating what we have as something casual cause that is all you have ever treated it as too.”

“It was never casual for me!” he snapped back. You gave a hard squeeze and his head fell back. “Fuck--that’s not fair.”

“Neither were your methods.” you reminded him. “Now, you said you wanted to etch your name onto my bones so I never forgot you. Well that is a two way street, you know. If you want to sear yourself into my memory then I get to do the same to you.”

“Trust me,” he said, eyes dark with desire, “You already are.”

You sat back, angling yourself as you lowered yourself onto him. You watched his gaze slide from your face down to where you were connected, watching his cock sink in and out of you. You rode him hard, pulling up till only the tip remained inside before slamming back down on him again. He steadied you by holding your thighs, pushing them wider when he wanted you to sink down deeper on him.

It didn’t matter how many times you had sex. Every time he had you like this it felt like he was in some amazing dream he did not want to wake up from. But you were no dream. You were real. So breathtakingly and heartbreakingly real. And you were with him, wanting him, riding him, eyes begging him and only him for pleasure and release no one else could come close to giving you.

His hips moved to thrust up into you, needing more. Needing to mark you in a way that you never forgot in this life or the next or the one another eight hundred years from now.

Your thrusts got shallower and faster as he hit some wonderful spot in your pussy that had you seeing stars. Your legs were shaking and started to lose their rhythm. Your body collapsed forward, laying on top of him. He kept hold of your ass, forcing your hips to keep moving as you moaned and panted, nails scratching down his chest.

“Fuck! Oh fuck! Raf! Raf!” you started squirming again, release so close you could taste it. At least, that’s what he figured with your tongue hanging out of your mouth. He craned his neck to taste it, pull your mouth onto his and made you swallow his own moans.

Your pussy was so hot and wet and it was squeezing the life out of him. He never wanted to leave. He wanted to mount the pair of you on a pedestal in this embrace, immortalized in shining marble. Scholars and lovers would come from all over the galaxy to study the love and lust your coupling represented. Women would desire to be you and men would envy him for having claimed something so perfect as his own. But none would know just how good you were. How your lips felt pressed against their own, what your arousal tasted like, or what little things turned you into a screaming moaning mess. This was all his to know and no one else.

“Let go.” he murmured against your lips, “I know you want to come. Go ahead, let go and come for me. Oh fuck please! Be a good girl and come all over me. Please!” he stressed. He felt himself about to blow but he’d be damned if he left you behind.

“Raf! Raf! Fuck Raf! Want to! Want to come!” Tears were leaking out of your eyes. “Want to be yours. Want to--want to--fuck! Make me! Make me yours!”

“Yes. Be mine! Be mine! Be only mine!” He crushed your mouth back against his. He wedged one hand between you and found your swollen and neglected clit, rubbing it gracelessly to give you that final little push you needed.

“Ah!” your voice pitched an octave.

“Keep your eyes open.” he gritted through clenched teeth. “Look at me when you come. Look at me!”

You forced your eyes open despite the pleasure wracking your body telling you to close them. “Raf…ay…el…” his name was but a struggled whisper before your cunt clamped down around him and the tremors of your body seized as you were thrown into your orgasm.

Rafayel followed shortly behind, his eyes never leaving yours as the tides of pleasure washed in and out and away. The shaking of your body stilled and you stayed flush against him, chests heaving and hearts hammering as the adrenaline wore off.

After several long minutes of silence you spoke again in a quiet voice, devoid of any malice. “Rafayel?”

He almost wished you hadn’t said anything. He didn’t want to ruin this peaceful moment. But you probably had questions. “What is it?”

“You said it was never casual for you.” you traced patterns across his chest. “What did you mean?”

“Exactly what I said.” he tilted your chin up to look at him. “After eight hundred years of waiting I finally have you back and you think I was going to want anything less than all of you?”

“Again with this eight hundred years thing.” you pinched the bridge of your nose. “I get that you’re older than you look but I am not eight hundred years old, Rafayel. If you are projecting some lost love onto me--”

“It’s not projection. It is you. It has only ever been and only ever will be you.” he could see the war in your eyes, trying to reconcile what he was saying.

He grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest, over his heart. “We promised. I know you don’t remember but I do. We made a vow and you cannot break it. We are bonded, always have been, always will be.”

“Do…” you took a shaky breath, “Do you love me?”

“It is a tragedy you even have to ask.” he cupped your cheek. “But yes, I do. And I will do anything to make sure you stay mine.”

“Well,” you cleared your throat, snuggling against him further. “I think you definitely staked your claim. But even if I am this same person from eight hundred years ago, what makes you think me and her are in any way the same? Do you want me to be more like her or something? Just how far is this going to go?”

“I never want you to be anything less than who you are. You don’t have to be her because there is no her to be. I just want you in whatever way you come.” he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Okay?”

“Okay.” you smiled. “And I promise, really actually promise, that I will not flirt with anyone that is not you.”

“Because you love me?” he teased with a dopey smile.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah. Because I love you.”

-----------

A/N: Hi, so this was my first foray into fanfic for this particular fandom. As it is I'm still fairly new so a lot of my characterization is based off of limited knowledge and vibes. That being said I hope you liked it and if you have other prompts for me whether they be angsty, spicy, or fluffy I'd be glad to have a crack at them. Love ya!

[babygirlana]

Ive been thinking of posting this here after posting it on reddit. Ive been writing some stuff about love and deepspace for days now. But here you go let me know if you want my other stuff to be posted here. Some are NSFW and SFW so let me know!!!

Songs they’ll match your freak to

- [ ] Xavier: (any Nicki Minaj song) At first he just liked as you vibe to the music but after a while of him coming over and catching you rapping to the plants while you water them the words just came to naturally. the most recent one was when he came over to get his weekly meal prep and he heard you singing to Beyonce’s flawless he couldn’t help but jump in. You turning around from putting the food in a bag and he’s bumping over you with swagger. He does not miss a word and censoring the bad words with a smile. You bounce along with him as he finishes the song off. “Wow baby I give it a 10/10 for performance. Since you win who are you thankful for?” You say clapping while he bows and waves at the imagery audience. “Thank you so much to Beyonce for this chance.” He laughs as you hold a spoon to his mouth. You laugh out loud while he pulls you into a chair on top of him. “Dang that was a lot I need to recharge first then I can show you how flawless you can be baby.” He says pressing himself to your chest. The heat raising over your face.

- [ ] Zayne: (Girly pop core/bimbo core music) you went to drop off lunch to your very busy surgeon husband but he’s not in his office. Most of the time you would wait for him to come back because he knows you were coming around this time. You set the food on his desk while pulling out your phone looking if he let you he was gonna be late. No text. You go to the nurses desk and ask where he is. They tell you he should be in pediatrics. Now that is a very obvious answer. You walk over to the pediatrics ward and you see him sitting facing away from you. Two little girls in front of him giggling they notice you but you hold a finger up to your mouth and they smile continuing what they were doing. You slowly make your way in front of him and when you barely get to his side he opens his eyes. You finally see what the two little girls were doing with him. His hair is littered with colorful hair clips. Bright colored stickers covering his face and you hold back a laugh as the smaller of the two girls smudging lip gloss on his pink lips. “Done!” The two girls cheered while high-fiving. “Girls as you can see miss hunter is here to pick me up.” He says while standing up and smoothing out his coat. “Doctor Zayne you can’t take it off. You promised okay?” The taller girl said sticking her pinky finger. “Okay I’ll keep it on until the end of lunch.” He enter winded his much larger pinky with the girl. The other girl blowing on the pinky promise. That lead to you changing his contact to girly pop with emojis. (Sorry the beginning was long) And you started blasting your new playlist of girly pop and bimbo core music at home. At first he was a bit annoyed with how loud it can be but as time passed it started to grow on him. The day when he matched your freak was when you both were packing for a trip and he walking in on you singing I <3 harajuku by Alice longyu gao ft. Fraxiom. Him doing fraxiom’s part while you dance around and he strikes an idol pose saying the ending.

- [ ] Rafayel: (crazy enough alt punk music) when you would chill at his studio you would hijack his sound system. At first he just nodded along to the beat but after going through and sharing your playlist with himself. he was fully on board. He had called you over using some crazy emergency about some about fish. He had said it in a rush and hung the phone. But you were like in the middle of a mission. So it was after work when the sun bathed the house in hues of purples and orange as it set. As you got closer you could hear the sound of music and singing so you slowly make your way in. You tip toe into the open space of the living room to see Rafayel emotionally singing out The mighty fall by Fall out boy ft. Big Sean. You start to bounce along behind him as he sings the bridge and you start rapping Big Sean part he spins around his eyes going wide. You walk closer as you go on and stopping right in front of him as you both finish off the song in sync. As the song ends both of your breaths are quick and heavy. The look that the two share speaks a thousands of words but also doesn’t speak a word at all. As your breaths calm his opens his mouth to whisper how the mighty fall and crashes his lips. The kiss was aggressive and desperate as it match the unspoken words and the booming music reverberating through your bodies. ( I actually had a ton of songs in mind but I choice this one based off that Rafayel was the mighty sea god. But the second choice would be just one yesterday by fall out boy because I feel that could resonate with how she forgets him.)

- [ ] Sylus: (Musicals/showtunes) He would see you acting out the musical with the twins. At first he thought it was cute and funny how you got the twins to go along with your antics. But that time you spend could with him so he started to sit in on your little musicals so he could be closer as you. He preferred classical music but he learns the words to your favorite ones. So one day when you two were on the run after bumping into each other after he just disappered without a word of where he was going. He hopped on your motorcycle more like stealing it with you on it. Oh wait “borrowing” in his words. He pulled up to a huge mansion after you been giving the silent treatment. You push off him and aggressively getting off the bike. Ripping the helmet off as you stormed into the house. He running his had through his messy hair as he strolled in behind you. After you two fretting up he makes a side comment about how you move like this happens often and you shoot back that yes this happens often with a huff and a slam of a fridge door. The place is clean so you know that he’s been here recently that there are food in the fridge. You don’t more like you force yourself not to notice him moving around the living room. You hear the sound system turn on as you snack on some fruit. The first note of the song For The Record from 36 Questions catches you off guard but he walks over as he sings the first lines. Him changing up the lyrics to match your guys predicament. When he looks to for you to play along. A smile dancing on your lips. You speaking to mephisto with parts of the song. He goes through the whole song playing it out. As it ends the laughter is loud and all anger for him disappearing. “Are you still mad sweetie?” He asks grabbing your hand pulling you closer. “No Sylus I’m not mad any more. But please don’t do that again we made a promise.” You look up at him with pleading eyes. He kisses away your unshed tears. “I promise.” He breathes out with a firm kiss to your forehead.

- [ ] Caleb: (Kpop mostly 2nd & 3rd gen) Caleb has always matched your freak growing up because if you asked he would give you the world. You would ask him to practice with you for dance competitions in middle-high school. He didn’t have much of a sense of rhythm at first but at your word he would practice. He would even practice away from you so you could praise him for getting better. When he had to leave for college he missed his plane because he danced all night with you. That was all in the pass so when he finds that you rearranged his living room to make space to dance he was surprised. He wasn’t home when you started moving around. The cameras alerted him that your heartbeat spiked so he looked and there you were dancing. He didn’t even need the audio to know what song you were doing. Shinee’s replay he remember when you asked for him to learn KEY’s part because you were doing Mino’s. When he refused at first you almost started crying calling him a big meanie. The memory bringing a smile to his face. He stands to head home to you. A assistant tries to stop you but he holds up a hand and says he’s heading home for the day. He doesn’t wait for a response making his way home. He pulls up the camera feed so he can know what song you’re doing. The plane going a tad bit faster than normal. His safety training left at HQ. He arrives in half the time it normally takes. He pulls the door open and he hears the beat of Miniskirt by AOA. Rushing into the living room he jumps in right at the chorus surprising you but staying on beat. ( sorry this one ends abruptly I just lost steam lol my brain hurts)

[kefiteria]

💌 Mess and Mellow Moments

• Rafayel, though he grumbles about chores, ends up showing his affection in the simplest way after a long day of cleaning.

💌 Sylus 💌 Zayne 💌 Xavier

It was a lazy afternoon, and you had decided that it was finally time to clean the house. The clutter from the past few days had accumulated, and there was no escaping it. Rafayel, however, was not thrilled by the idea.

“Cleaning? Ugh, I thought we were supposed to be relaxing today.” Rafayel groaned and flopping dramatically onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling as if the very thought of tidying up was a personal betrayal.

You chuckled and grabbed the cleaning supplies. “It’s not like we can leave the house a mess. You do live here, you know.”

Rafayel still lounging on the couch, gave you a sidelong glance, his trademark smug grin making an appearance. “I live here alone, and you just… exist here~” he shot back, raising an eyebrow as he stretched dramatically. “But fine, if you insist on doing chores, I’ll supervise. It’s what I pay you for, right?”

“Oh, you’ll supervise? How very helpful of you.” You raised an eyebrow at his antics.

“Exactly~” he said, leaning back and striking a pose with his hands behind his head. “Now get to work.”

“You know…" you said slowly glancing over at him, “don’t blame me if I end up throwing out some things you really need.”

Rafayel’s eyes widened for a split second before he quickly recovered with a pout. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.” you replied with a grin tugging at your lips.

As you dusted the shelves, Rafayel half-heartedly picked up a broom, holding it awkwardly like it was some foreign object. He gave it an experimental twirl before putting it down with a huff.

“This is so beneath me…" he muttered, though you could tell he was mostly just being dramatic.

“Then why don’t you go sit back down?” you teased, still working on wiping down the counters.

“Who said I was sitting?” He looked at you with an exaggerated pout, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m just waiting for you to finish so I can admire how clean you’ve made everything. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Sure, Rafayel. If it wasn’t for you, I’d never get anything done~” you said with a grin, knowing how much he secretly loved the attention.

After a while, you both got caught up in the task. Rafayel, despite all his grumbling, ended up vacuuming while scrolling on his phone with one hand. Sometimes, he’d toss in a sarcastic remark, but it wasn’t long before he started to take it a little more seriously.

You caught him trying to clean a shelf with a rag… but the rag was completely dry. “You’re not supposed to clean with a dry cloth, Rafayel.” you pointed out, chuckling at his effort.

“Who needs a wet cloth?” he snapped, looking defensive. “I’m just… um, air-dusting.”

“Fine, I’ll fix it. Happy?” He rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed at being caught, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips. Though you can't help but burst out laughing at his attempt to cover up his mistake.

“Very.” you said while wiping a tear from your eye. “But I think you’re the one who needs cleaning now.”

Rafayel narrowed his eyes. “What does that mean?”

“Look at your hands.” you pointed out, and with a mock gasp then added, “Oh no, you have dust on your fingers! Whatever shall we do?”

He glanced down at his hands in mock horror, only to realize he’d gotten dust on his fingers from handling the rag. “I knew this was a bad idea!” he whined, dramatically rubbing his hands together, trying to get rid of the evidence.

“Well, maybe next time you’ll think twice before handling cleaning supplies.” You crossed your arms with a smirk, watching his theatrics.

Rafayel froze and his expression faltering. “W-what?” he stammered, his face turning slightly flustered.

“Admit it~” you grinned, leaning in playfully and pinching his cheek. “You secretly love being a little messy, don’t you?”

He pouted, holding up his now-dusty hands with a groan. “Great, now I look like some pathetic excuse of a person who can’t even clean up without making a mess…" he muttered, shaking his hands in the air dramatically. “How am I supposed to look dashing now?”

You stifled a laugh, watching his exaggerated pout. “You’re just full of complaints today, aren’t you?”

“I look like a disaster!” he complained, wiping his hands on his shirt in a futile attempt to clean them. “How is this supposed to be charming? You’re lucky I’m handsome or this would be a catastrophe!”

He crossed his arms and turned his head, pretending to be unimpressed, but the small flush on his face said otherwise. “Pfft, whatever. Don’t get all smug about it,” he muttered, but his grin betrayed him. “We’re done now, right?”

“You bet. But just remember, you're not as perfect as you think~” you teased, picking up the last of the supplies with a mischievous grin.

“Not perfect? ME? Clearly, you don’t appreciate genius when you see it.” He gave you his usual exaggerated and dramatic sigh, his lips forming a small pout as if you’d just insulted his very existence.

“Sure, sure, Rafayel. You can keep pretending you're perfect.” You chuckled with raising an eyebrow.

He stuck his tongue out at you and made a face, his pout deepening. “I don’t have to prove anything to you. You already know I’m right!” he grumbled, though there was a playful edge to his tone.

Before you could respond, Rafayel suddenly moved behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist in a hug. His head rested gently on your shoulder, and his pout turned into a soft grumble. “Fine, I’ll admit it. I’m not perfect. But I’m still better than everyone else.” he muttered against your neck, his voice laced with that familiar mix of arrogance and affection.

Feeling his arms around, you decide to leaning back into his embrace “That’s the Rafayel I know.”

With the house now clean and the teasing settled, the two of you simply sat there, wrapped in each other's arms. The chores were forgotten, the day winding down to its perfect, quiet end.

[applecour]

Drain You ✩ 秦且歌 / xavier…

18+ / suggestive content. office au, boss!reader, bratty sub reader, petnames (Boss, Master, Sir, good boy / girl); mentions of fingering & brat taming, no intercourse

“Hm, okay, this manuscript passes. Send this, along with my notes, to the printing department by when it finishes photocopying.”

You hand the thick text back without glancing away from your computer screen to Xavier who sighs in relief, “Thank you so much, Miss, I will.”

“Thank the fucking gods, we can finally go home,” Rafayel whines to you, his body slumping against the back of your chair and draping over your figure, “If you rejected that damn manuscript one more time, I was going to kill you and then myself.”

“Well, then why don’t I make it up to everyone?” You smiled, pulling the company black card out from your purse, “Free drinks for everyone’s hard work!”

“Boss…” Rafayel tears up, “I’ll never curse you out behind your back again.”

At only age 26, you’ve made quite the name for yourself— the Cruel Master of Infold Manhua House who turned your unruly department from a lost cause to one of the top 3 in the entire company. And that’s saying a lot, considering that the department you oversee produces content of a very niche and controversial genre…

Said genre being erotica.

From ecchi one-shots, to softcore short stories, to full on nasty and sinful visual novellas— not a single project starts or finishes without being approved by you. And you didn’t get the moniker Cruel Master by being easy to please and work with.

“Xavier,” you call sternly as you see him return to his cubicle, “We’re all going out to drink— you’re coming, too, right?”

He doesn’t really drink and you know that. He would rather go home and you know that. But you would rather have him come anyways. He softly rubs his nape as he contemplates his options: say no and get immediately persuaded by your pretty words, or say yes and just get on with it. “Uh, yes, of course, Miss,”

You smile, standing up from your chair and brush your hand against his shoulder as you walk pass him, “Good boy.”

✩ !

“God-damn it, Boss, how can yuh hold yur liquor so wehll?” Rafayel slurs as picks his head up from the table to give you a vicious glare.

“‘m just better than you,” you reply, sticking your tongue out at the drunken man who gives you a lovely gesture in return (it’s his middle finger).

Your eyes shift to your left to look at Xavier sitting at another table, solemnly sipping on his borderline empty soda bottle, and he looks as out of place as you’re sure he feels right now. As the newbie on the team, Xavier’s still so unsure of what he can and what he should do. It doesn’t help that he can always feel your eyes burning into his skull and watching his every move, judging and scrutinizing every single detail about him and his existence.

Well, that’s what he thinks, anyways— the reality is you like him much more than he thinks… like a lot more. And it’s definitely not the type of ‘like’ that is in a work appropriate way.

No, in fact, you want to fuck his brains out. That’s why you can’t help but tease and test him so much.

“Ahh, Xavi,” you croon softly as you sit dangerously close to him on the bench, giggling as you see a blush blooms across his ears as you rub your cheek against his shoulder, “‘m soo drunk.”

“Shall I take you home, then, Miss?”

You nod, handing him your keys, your hand touching his for much longer than necessary. “You remember my address, right?”

Of course he does. There have been countless nights in the past eight months where he has to call for a taxi at 2 am to rush to your apartment because, as the newbie, he’s been tasked to deliver a last minute manuscript change for your approval or the like. This isn’t even the first time he’s driven you home from a work event like this.

The ride is silent but not awkward. You’re not really drunk, maybe the tiniest bit tipsy, but you pretend to fall asleep anyways to spare Xavier’s social battery. You try not to ruin the facade as you feel the car stop but you definitely let out a squeak of surprise after you hear Xavier open your side’s door and feel his arm wrap around your waist and upper thighs.

He’s so strong— shockingly strong— and he carries you as if you weigh nothing. After typing in the passcode to your apartment, he softly sets you down against your fluffy duvet and gently slips your heels off your feet.

You expect him to turn to leave but he surprises you again by caressing your cheek with the tips of his fingers, “Boss, you look so sweet and defenseless when you sleep,” he mumbles as his fingers move lower to rub against your plump lips, “You have no idea just what I want to do to—”

That’s when you decide you’re done with this lame ruse and your tongue darts from your mouth to lick the pads of his finger which causes him to abruptly pull back his hand in shock but you grab his arm and bring his hand back to your mouth to softly bite the side of his palm.

“So, what exactly do you want to do?” You laugh, sucking seductively on his index finger, “Do you want to kiss me? Touch me? Maybe—”

Your words are cut short as his opposite hand pulls roughly on your hair, forcing you to bear your throat and look him in the eyes, “No, I want to do much worse than that. I want to ruin you. I want to punish you and put you in your place. I want to make you beg for mercy. And I know that’s what you want, too.”

He leans down, licking the shell of your left ear, “Boss, I’ve seen the books you keep in your office; the ones where brats like you get fucked into submissive. I’ve seen the way you can barely control your facial expressions when you proofread an issue of manhua where the protagonist gets tied up and is left to the mercy of their lover.”

Your brows furrow, “That’s—”

“What? That’s not what I think it is? Then what about what I saw when you were ‘editing’ the Eve manuscript in your office last week?”

Fuck. Your face begins to heat up at the mention of that incident. It’s not your fault, really, that you get pent up sometimes (between work and everyday survival, how can you make time to get laid?!) and that manuscript really made you feel something— between your legs, that is.

How could you not get hot and bothered when that chapter was a visualization of your deepest fantasies? A scenario where the head-strong main lead was mind-fucked by her highschool crush who had also been in love with her for years after he finds her stash of depraved manga; to be exposed at your most vulnerable and imperfect form and still be desired, let alone adored by someone you love deeply back, was all you’ve ever wanted.

It’s not even like you anything crazy in the office either— fingering yourself a little bit in the privacy of your office isn’t that crazy… you didn’t even get to cum regardless because Xavier happen to barge into your office with a stack of paper that needed your signature or something else.

He had been standing at your door for about five minutes before he decided to actually open it because he couldn’t take his eyes off of you and your reactions. He couldn’t see exactly what your hand was doing underneath your desk, but with the way you couldn’t stop biting your lip and squirming in your chair, he can make an assumption. He would’ve let you finish— there’s nothing more he wanted to see in the world— but lunch was almost over and the thought of anyone else seeing you in that state made his blood boil.

“That’s right, Boss, I know what someone like you needs, so why don’t you be a good girl and let me take care of you, hm?” He utters against the column of your neck as he presses kisses against your skin which have you whimpering in response.

He takes your hand in his and guides it to the growing bulge in his trousers, forcing your hand to squeeze and rub against his erection. Fuck, he’s huge. You pull you hand back and try to lean back away from his body, “S-stop it, I’m drunk—”

“No, you’re not.” He declares, pushing you back softly to lie flat on the mattress. Xavier’s hands stroke your legs up and down before he tugs on your tights making a small run in the fabric near your upper thigh. “You have better alcohol tolerance than anyone I know, so stop making excuses. Do you want me to fuck you as much I want to fuck you? If you say no, I’ll leave and we can pretend this never happened; I can go back to playing as your obedient subordinate and you can be my domineering master. But, if you say yes…”

His hand slips under your pencil skirt, the heel of his palm stopping right above your clit, the pressure and weight so light it almost feels like nothing but it makes your leg twitch nonetheless, “I can show good it’ll feel to be mine.”

“Sir, p-please,” you whisper, lifting your hips to rub your clit against his palm harder, “make me yours— I want to be yours.”

“See? You do know how to be a good girl.”

star banner by @/enchanthings … i lost inspo on dis 💔💔

[rileythelonelyalien]

Thalassophobia- fears of deep bodies of water such as Oceans, seas, and lakes.

A/N: I was writing down new ideas and such for different Fics and I thought about how interesting it might be if the MC/reader had a deep fear of deep bodies of water whilst dating Rafayel? So, I wrote it up, it ended up more fluff than angst if any at all but oh well. I made everything as vague as can be so that anyone can me the MC in this! (Singular use of Y/N Rafayel mostly calls them Cutie)

tw: none, just fluff

word count: 1.2k

fic is under the cut ! :D

Being a hunter meant being strong, capable… but that doesn't mean that a hunter can't have their fears and weak moments right? Alas for you it's not that simple what you find unsettling is a bit embarrassing to say the least, but you can't hide the hesitation on your face when you’re standing so close to the shore with your boyfriend. Thalassophobia. Something that you couldn't quite explain in words but you knew that this phobia was a deep seated worry of yours. Sure, rationally dipping your toes into the little waves lapping at the shore wouldn't kill you but that still couldn’t trump the immense pit in your stomach as you looked out at the horizon, of the large body of water. It looked so still at this moment but who knows what lies beneath the tranquil sight.

“Hey! Heeeeyyyy cutie? What's got you so lost in thought, I’m right here aren’t I?” his familiar voice cuts through your swirling thoughts. You drag your gaze away from the sea before you to the cheeky smile plastered over your boyfriend's features with a small sigh “It's nothing, really.” you mumble half heartedly racking your brain for any excuse you could find to remain on the sand and avoid the root of your hesitation. “I’m… feel a bit tired I think I’ll just sit here, you can still go for a swim if you’d like though I really don’t mind” you quickly mutter out. Unfortunately for you Rafayel is unconvinced, his hands come to settle on his hips taking on a stance that of a petulant child, a pout on his lips. “What? You seemed so energetic on our way over here, what's happened since then… is something wrong?” you shake your head waving your hand at him dismissively “It’s really nothing I swear–” you begin to try and deflect once more but it’s clear he's not having any of it raising his finger and shaking his head “you’re terrible at lying…” he gently chides you before coming closer to you worry evident on his features.

As he draws near his hands would come up to hold yours, “Y/N. If somethings bothering you I don’t want you to have to hide it from me… of course if you don’t want to tell me that okay but I wouldn’t want to do anything without having you by my side, even if it's just swimming” his earlier childish and teasing demeanour has melted away and left behind an air of tenderness between you and him. His tone is kind and understanding, a warm gaze looking into yours with care and respect.

Not having the courage to say anything about your phobia you murmur a few excuses and simply find yourself sitting on the sandy terrain of the beach looking out at the sea, gulls cawing distantly as they traverse the skies above the water. Mindlessly you would pick at the small shells around you, some in broken fragments given how delicate they were whilst others remain intact. Whilst the silence between you two isn't uncomfortable it is filled with a light tension. It stays this way for what feels like quite a while even if it has only been a few minutes since the silence had blanketed over them. “People have lots of silly Phobias, right? Like how you're afraid of cat’s … or some people are frightened by ducks…" the hesitation is painfully evident in your own voice as you hear yourself speak. Rafayel’s head perks up as you begin to speak although he frowns at your mention of his ‘phobia’ of cats “Hey now, it's not a ‘phobia’ if they are menacing little creatures” he huffs in response but makes it clear with how he doesnt draw away even leaning into to you to hear you better that he's open and listening to what you have to say. “Well, I also have a fear… it's stupid I know but I’m frightened by the ocean…” your own voice seems to fail you as the words fade from your lips, quiet speech turning into embarrassed mumblings. 

You expected laughter, maybe a bit of teasing or something of the like. Many people had such reactions “what? Scared of the ocean, that so silly you're overreacting " "now that's just absurd, it's not like its going to kill you” past words dance around in your mind. Maybe it was a mistake telling him this. Yet just as you ready yourself to take back what you said, cover it all up as a joke and laugh it off you catch his expression. The worry that was once there had smoothed over into compassion, a thoughtful frown on his features. “I see, that makes things much more clear now…” he mutters thoughtfully. An arm finds its way around your shoulder bringing you in closer to lean against him, you can feel the sensation of his nose and lips nuzzling into the top of your head, a warm breath against your scalp. “What about it unsettles you so much?” he asks, catching you off guard. You weren't really expecting to be asked that, it's not like many people took the time to try and wrap their minds around a phobia of yours. “It's just– it's hard to explain, to put my feelings into words but I can't help but feel anxious near something like the sea or the Ocean. It’s so vast and deep and not much of it has been explored there is so much danger and unknown hidden within it I can’t help be frightened by it” The words feel jumbled and clanky as they are spoken, something like this has always been difficult to explain to others who don't understand the feeling themselves. Rafayel would simply nod his head with a soft hum of affirmation to your words. “I understand, it's less so the water itself, but what lives in it that disturbs you?” He spoke calmly with no judgement or malice within his speech. “I guess so, it's just… really embarrassing not being able to do normal things like swim in the sea or get on a boat without feeling so anxious, I really hope I haven't ruined our visit today because of this”

The low sound of his chuckle catches your attention, but it's not directed at you at least not in a mocking way more so out of affection. His free hand comes up to tilt your chin up so that your gaze meets his once more “Cutie… nothing can ruin my time when you’re here beside me there's no need to worry about that” he reassures you with a loving smile on his lips. “Besides, we can work on this together, I can be your tour guide for the world that lies beneath the waves… It’ll all be at your own pace and you can trust me to have you safely within my reach the whole time, what do you think?” He proposes the suggestion. You mull about it for a few moments before sighing softly “I think… that would be nice, but for today can you just stay here like this, let's leave the sea tour guide for another day” Rafayel would simply nod his head with a helpless grin leaning in to press his lips to your forehead “Of course, Cutie, like I said you set the pace alight?” the mumbled promise falls from his lips. Gentle waves of water crash onto the shore before being pulled back in by the tide a soothing sound to filling in the background as you and Rafayel spend the rest of your day at the beach collecting the prettiest shells and even spotting a few crabs hanging around in little rock pools left behind by the tide.

[lovexdeepspace]

Hi ! I hope you’re having a great day! I’ve read that you are open to new ideas regarding LDS and so I thought maybe you’re able to do one where the LDS boys comfort MC when something triggering happen to them? I’m looking forward to reading your posts 💞

“i’ll always be here.”

summary; rafayel, xavier, and zayne are your island in the storm.

warnings; triggering topics (stalking / near-death experiences / [canon] death), sadness

note; thank you anon for requesting & i hope you’re having a day as lovely as you are!! 💕🫶 (will be formatting when i can, just away from my laptop for some time and i wanted to post !!)

rafayel

had your occupation as a hunter not made you to be more aware of your surroundings, you would have never caught onto the man who had been tailing you.

you stopped giving him the benefit of the doubt when he turned the corner of the dark alley many knew to be populated with the homeless and subsequently avoided. as soon as the man thought he had you cornered he picked up speed and that’s when you turned on him, pistol in hand.

“h-hey, let’s put that away,” he stammered, raising his hands up as he skidded to a stop. you didn’t budge, trying your damndest to keep your hands steady.

“turn around,” you hissed, “and walk away.”

the man didn’t waste a second, taking a few steps back before turning on his heel and making a run for it. once he turned the corner you let out a sigh of relief, shaky hands placing the pistol back into the holster at your hip. you headed back onto the main path with a clouded mind, your heartbeat ringing in your ears. without a second thought you followed the sidewalk towards the large white building that overlooked the beach, your steps hurried.

you pushed the gate open and practically ran up the paved path towards the large front doors of rafayel’s studio, grateful to find that he had accidentally left them unlocked once again. as soon as you stepped inside you pulled the doors shut once more, the lingering feeling of being followed making your skin crawl. after locking the doors you kicked off your shoes and shuffled into the main room, finding rafayel sitting on the floor with a canvas propped up in front of him.

he turned at the sound of your approaching footsteps, looking up at you with a raised brow. you clenched and unclenched your fists as you tried to think of something — anything — to say but all that came out was a choked sob. panicked, rafayel pushed himself to his feet and grabbed your shoulders then your face, looking for any injuries.

“what happened?” he asked, checking your arms and torso. “take a breath, i can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

you swallowed harshly, tears rolling down your cheeks. “a man,” you choked out, “was following me. had to threaten him for him to leave.”

rafayel’s face contorted with some combination of disgust and anger but softened as you sniffled. he held his arms out and you collapsed into his embrace, a feeling of security crashing over you as he held you tight.

“i’ve got you,” he murmured, resting his chin atop your head. “you’re safe here.”

xavier

it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

this mission was supposed to be easier yet, here you were, fighting a god damn elysian cervus. your fill-in partner was unconscious somewhere, leaving you to fight this beast on your lonesome. your shirt was soaked with blood from a gash on your torso and you were pretty sure some ribs were broken but you pressed on until delivering the final blow.

the wanderer fell, motionless on the ground. slowly you move and collect the protocore, stashing it away before searching for your partner. you found her slumped against a tree a little ways away, using your watch to call for help as you slowly settled down next to her. as you talked to the operator you pressed two fingers to the side of her neck, relieved to find a pulse.

help came not too long after you had called, carting you and your partner to the hospital for the both of you to be treated. you ended up with three broken ribs, a fractured ankle, and lots of stitches across your abdomen.

“you got very lucky,” a nurse had informed you the following day as she checked your vitals. “whatever had caused that nasty gash just barely missed some of your organs.”

“lucky me,” you muttered, laying back in the hospital bed. “when will i be able to go home?”

the nurse checked some papers on her clipboard. “the doctor wrote here that he’d like to keep you another couple days. just get some rest, sweetheart.”

she left and you sighed, turning your head to look out the window. the silence was peaceful and you admired the city, thinking of how serene it looked from this angle. a small knock at your door had you flinch and you covered your heart with a sigh of relief when you saw xavier standing there.

“how’re you feeling?” he asked, settling in a chair at your side. the bouquet of flowers he had brought were set gently on your bedside table, his eyes never leaving you. the guilt in his stare was unmistakable and you knew it was eating him up inside that he had been unavailable to accompany you on the mission.

“like shit,” you responded with a low chuckle, “but i’ll be okay. doc says i should be able to head home in a couple days but i’ll be off active duty for some time.”

xavier nodded, reaching out and grabbing one of your hands in both of his as he said your name quietly. “you need to rest. you’ve been pushing yourself so hard and haven’t been giving yourself a break like i’ve suggested.”

you tried to interrupt but xavier squeezed your hand and you noticed the slight tremble in his grip and the tears that were forming in his eyes as he continued.

“i could’ve lost you! so, please, think about yourself for once or — allow me to be selfish — think about me. think about how much losing you would impact my life!”

you stared at him as he swallowed harshly, taking one hand away to wipe at his eyes while he mumbled an apology. you reached out and cupped the side of his face, running your thumb over his cheekbone tenderly.

“i’m sorry,” you murmured. “i’ll rest. i never meant to worry you so much, xav.”

he sighed, leaning into your touch. “i came here to comfort you and look at how the tables turned.”

you smiled. “you did more than enough, xavier. as much as i need rest, you need to be comforted and that’s alright.”

zayne

the last couple hours were no better than a blur to you.

one second you’re standing outside your grandmother’s front door, the next you’re on your stomach, surrounded by flames and the house in front of you was no more than rubble. your body ached and you weakly call out for caleb and your grandmother, trying desperately to pull yourself toward the house. your fingers meet something cool and you glance down to find the chain of caleb’s necklace caught on your pinky.

your heart sinks and you pull the necklace close to your body, sobbing caleb’s name as you curl up on the walkway. your eyes shut and you aren’t sure how much time passed because when you open them again you’re in akso hospital, laid on a bed in a dimly lit room.

you look to your hands and feel panic rise in your chest when you don’t see caleb’s necklace. your heart hammered in your chest as your hands scanned the blanket covering your lower half, hoping it was somewhere on the bed.

“i put it on your bedside table.”

zayne, sitting on a couch near the window of your room, stood and moved to stand by your bedside. he picked up caleb’s necklace from your bedside table and he gingerly placed it in your awaiting hands, grief evident in his expression.

“i’m sorry for your loss,” he murmured, his hand lingering near yours as he spoke. he slowly sat on the edge of your bed and finally grabbed your hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. “i’ve taken the next week off to stay with you, if you’d like. you should be able to leave tomorrow morning and whether you want to stay at your place or mine is up to you entirely.”

your eyes stayed glued to your hands, one clutching caleb’s necklace while the other held zayne’s tightly. you wanted to respond or even show a sliver of gratitude but your mind was weighed down by the heavy loss of caleb and your grandmother. the heat and force of the explosion was still so fresh on your skin and all you could do was grieve. sobs shook your whole body and zayne tentatively moved closer, carefully pulling you into his embrace.

“i’m so sorry,” he whispered, chin resting atop your head as one hand cradled the back of your head and the other gently rubbed up and down your back. tears of his own rolled down his cheeks as he continued to whisper comfort to you while you clung to him and cried.

[ourfirstlink]

priceless treasure [rafayel]

from the phone call “priceless treasure”

“and let me remind you that the owner lets customers set their own prices based on how much they like a work.”

“let me do the math… i’m running low on pretty seashells at home. i only have 20 left. but i’ll happily give all of them to you.”

“you’re very generous, cutie. and here i thought you’d only offer ten. buuut as long as you like it, that’s good enough for me.”

“why do you think that’s enough? i’ve seen you paint, and i know you pour your heart and soul into every piece… your work is priceless. if you want more, i can give you a higher price.”

“an art piece is only priceless to those who appreciate it for what is is at its core. aaand you’re giving me the shells we picked up during our daily walks. they’ve been with us through every sunset, when the waves touched our feet, and when the breeze danced around us. some even witnessed the moments we treasure the most.”

(i literally can’t believe such a character exists, i was born in the right generation, i love love, art and rafayel)

[npuppet]

A list of things I have noticed in LaDs pt. 2.1 ft flowers (Xavier and Rafayel)

Ik this has been done countless times over but I wanted to put together the lads flowers together cuz it’s so interesting to read into all of them. Also I also know multiple flowers are attributed to the LI’s so bear with me

TLDR; getting into way too much detail abt flowers (thats not pertinent to the lore lmao) for fictional men in an otome game

Xavier

(I’m starting with him cuz I found the most interesting theories abt his)

His flower looks the closest to (and probably is) a Forget Me Not, meaning eternal true love, respect, remembrance, devotion/faithfulness, and royalty (King Henry IV made it his flower idk lol)

There is a European legend that states that a woman was trying to pick some flowers and fell into a river. A knight saves her but he cannot save himself so he yells “forget me not” to her as he gets swept away. The woman names the flowers Forgot Me Nots and wears them till her death.

Self sacrifice for a woman?? Hello?? Xavier????

But a post from Reddit by @/mimi_gail figured that one of Xavier’s other flowers could be a Menzies baby blue eyes, the post states

“It means woodland loving and has been derived from latin nemos and Greek PHILOS.”

(Menzies baby blue eyes on the left, forget me nots on the right)

Have u seen the memory Starry Sound where Xavier and MC are in the woods where Forget Me Nots like to grow?

Yeah

(Ik im mixing flower lore but it kinda makes sense… maybe not)

Menzies baby blue eyes are attributed to love, innocence and healing from past trauma and abuse, especially from masculine figures. I think it’s a bit of a far stretch to say Menzies are close to Xavier, even with philos from its Greek name. Philos primarily means friend and can also be lover or love. For example philosophy means love of wisdom. In the Bible it’s is mainly translated as friend. Multiple meanings. Take that as you will.

And also more lore on Forget Me Not’s from @/mimi_gail,

“DID YOU know that ANOTHER name for "forget me not" flowers is "chico XAVIER", they are known as XAVIER flowers. Do you think that's why xavier's appearance is blonde hair and blue eyes??? Because of how the flowers look???”

I looked that up and it’s actually a person, a Brazilian spiritualist who used Forget Me Not’s as a kind of medium. Interesting stuff. Probably an insane coincidence but still cool.

Another post on Reddit (@/prlmlkt) says blue flax flower is another good one stating,

“It could be the blue flax flower... It symbolizes life and death cycles, purity, perseverance, and rebirth. In some cultures, it symbolizes faith in action and loyal love.”

The blue flax flower is a resilient and hardy flower, very reminiscent of how Xavier had to be, being on Earth for so long. It also symbolizes delight and simplicity, like how I feel Xavier had fallen into a sort of quiet life before me met MC again.

Wavyleaf Sea Lavender comes up as it’s mentioned somewhere he uses it as a sleep aid (it’s canon lol) Since he loves sleep it does make sense. It symbolizes remembrance and tranquility. Google AI says it can also express “I miss you” but I dunno where it got that from. I just wanted to add this in here.

I have also seen that some people say cosmos’ are a good candidate too. I looked a bit into it and cosmos symbolize order, harmony, and peace. Blue cosmos in particular symbolize desire and inspiration like a muse. It is also the birth flower for October! I dunno if I buy into cosmos but still very interesting to learn abt

Rafayel

(I’m going to be so honest and say I know the least about Raf’s lore and overall story but I’ll try my best)

Rafayels flower is a Flame Lily, also known as the Gloriosa Lily.

A striking and vibrant red, yellow, and pink that suits Rafayel perfectly.

It symbolizes passion, love, and nobility, also harbinger of good fortune (how ironic). It is a strong cultural symbol in our world, finding ties in Africa, India and Hinduism. National flower of Zimbabwe, it likes hot and dry climates and is highly toxic to humans lol.

I always found it morbidly ironic that the god of the sea who sacrificed his people for his bride was reborn(?) with a fire evol. That and his underwater civilization was dried up into a desert, where the fame lily would love to grow.

(There’s lore in this picture I just know it but I dunno what it is yet) (just look how he’s holding his, Zayne’s, and Xavier’s flowers) (lore is there I know it)

Another flower I feel like would a good fit is a bleeding heart (cuz.. yknow)

Bleeding hearts symbolize sorrow, passionate love, and loss/abandonment. I know I’m getting very literal but you can see it right??

Another is camellia flowers. Symbolizing affection and admiration, the pink ones show longing for someone and the red ones deep desire.

I also think the many petal layers of the camellia parallels nicely to how deep and complex a character Rafayel is. He seems aloof and bratty but the deep seated fears of abandonment and rejection that keep popping up is heart wrenching. This man is so anxious for MC to remember and love him again. (;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`)

and very briefly ik there are theories as to some of his accessories being safely pins and bro auggghhhh that really hurts to know how much he is just barely holding on for her.

Part two of this flower analysis will be for Zayne and Sylus and the final part will be for Caleb

[captainventi]

Stars On Ice

Love is in the air — or not? "Love and Ice" seems like the perfect theme for a Valentine's Day episode of the figure skating show. But maybe the showrunners got ahead of themselves? Can the participants, who have been skating together for less than a month, really pull it off?

Episode 2. the boy is mine (Ariana Grande)

Pairing: celebrity!Rafayel x figure skater!MC

Synopsis: When the performance turns into a public display of passion, doubts inevitably arise about where the stage chemistry ends and something dangerously real begins.

CW: figure skating!au, flirty banter, innuendos, emotional and sexual tension

Notes: this is the second episode of rafayel's plotline in the figure skating!au. the first one, along with other plotlines, can be found here. rafayel is a wildly popular model, dancer and tiktok star. dividers by @/saradika-graphics

“Thomas said the audience wants sex, so who am I to argue,” Rafayel spins in front of the mirror, scrutinizing his reflection and fussing with his half-unbuttoned shirt again, as if he’s forgotten it’ll end up a mess during the routine anyway.

“Right,” I snort, patiently waiting for this fashion victim to vacate the mirror. “You're not exactly known for slapping the face of public taste.”

“Depends on the slaps and the taste,” he winks slyly. “Besides, prudes aren’t really our target audience.”

“I love how you say ‘our’ like I wasn’t dragged into this debauchery by you,” I retort. “And stop torturing that shirt. It looked great on you fifteen minutes ago.”

“I dragged you? Puh-leeease. You dove in all on your own — and pretty eagerly, might I add,” he steps aside, finally letting me see myself, and I can tell he’s also admiring the view. He clearly enjoys being the one to draw this side out of me, considering my competitive career never allowed for this kind of on-ice chaos — though I’ve never actually told him that, and he probably doesn’t suspect.

He comes up behind me and smooths a wrinkle on my sleeve — pointlessly, really.

“Don't forget, Miss Guardian Angel,” he murmurs into what’s either my ear or my neck, “you’re the main sex appeal in tonight’s routine, not me. And if you do it like you did in rehearsals, that’ll be more than enough to trigger a nationwide nosebleed, trust me.”

“You think so?” I ask, uncertain, turning to him. I’m not really one to be insecure about my looks — despite everything I’ve heard throughout my career — but somehow, with Rafayel, I can never get enough reassurance.

“Objectively or subjectively?” he asks, then doesn’t wait for an answer. “Objectively — we wouldn’t be going that viral if it were just me out there in the spotlight. You’ve got everything it takes to set the ice on fire. Subjectively — I wouldn’t have picked 'the boy is mine' for us if I didn’t know it would be a blast. Satisfied?”

He gently cups my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over my cheekbones.

“You’re convincing, I’ll give you that,” I place my hands over his. “And, by the way, the ‘K-drama boyfriend’ mannerisms really work as a bonus argument.”

He just laughs.

“I know. That mega-strategy hasn’t failed me yet.”

A crew member calls us over, and we head to the ice together — instinctively reaching for each other’s hands, only to pull back almost immediately. No need to overdo the sentimental bits. We already have a full three minutes of semi-obscene clinging scheduled; best not to drown the audience in syrup. Gotta leave them with that bittersweet hint of almost. The ship tease must remain a tease. Rafayel, being media-savvy as hell, already schooled me on that one.

I still have to steel myself before the skate — Rafayel may fumble technically, but emotionally, he’s always on point. Me? I can pull it off — I mean, Olympic medalist, hello — but the gap between the persona I’m playing and the real me is just… a lot.

In character, I’m supposed to know he’s mine. Fully. Completely. Act like I’ve already won him over and he belongs to me, no questions asked. Reality, though? I’m not even sure it’s wise to think of Rafayel that way, and I’m trying hard to avoid it — for the sake of my own mental stability.

Then again, we’ve already agreed that what happens on TikTok stays on TikTok, and what happens on the ice stays on the ice. Even if the whole point of the routine could be summed up as “your daily three-minute dose of groping Rafayel,” as he so eloquently put it.

Under the spotlight, he turns into something else entirely — and I do too. Touches feel hotter, body contact tighter, moves that seemed perfectly tame in rehearsals now teeter on the edge of decency. I’m doing things I wouldn’t have dreamed of on the ice before — and it’s dizzying. But when you’ve got strong arms holding you, a cocky smirk, and that approving, awestruck gaze? Suddenly, the impossible doesn’t feel so scary.

Running my hands down his body, this time not by accident but very much on purpose? Don’t mind if I do. Lightly brushing my lips against his neck—clearly exposed for exactly that reason, and egged on by his signature grin? Absolutely. Straddling his hips during a lift? ISU rules allow that pose just fine, so everyone else can shove it.

He doesn’t hold back either — especially when, according to the program’s storyline, his character finally snaps and gives in to temptation. He spins me, pulls me in for the final lift, doesn’t let go for a second. Is he mine, or am I the one getting claimed here? That question hangs in the air — at least until the music stops and our faces end up way too close. Dangerously close. For both of us.

What happens on the ice should stay on the ice. But… not to that extent, right?

“None of it would’ve worked without my partner,” Rafayel says later in an interview, with his trademark half-ironic delivery, juggling words like a seasoned stand-up comic. “Seriously, she’s so gorgeous that I had to read a dubstep prayer three times mid-skate just to preserve my chastity.”

And I can’t stop wondering — where does the line between this meta-irony and reality lie for him? When does he stop being Rafayel the media product? When the lights go down? When the TikTok stream ends? When he’s completely alone?

As much as I like Rafayel (guilty as charged), I’m not putting myself on the line until I know that for sure.

[lady-wallace]

Secret Garden - Chap 4 (Love and Deepspace)

New chapter up! And Sylus makes his appearance right in time for his birthday ^_^

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Read on Ao3

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Teaser:

“Who’s there?!” Xavier shouted, brandishing his sword.

The figure spun around and Zayne instantly used his Evol to freeze him into place. All the lights in the place suddenly flared bright and the figure grunted, lowering his head as he reached for something at his waist.

“Gun!” Rafayel shouted but Xavier was already behind the figure, sword across his throat as the lights died down again finally allowing Zayne to see the figure clearly.

He was tall with silver hair and crimson eyes. He held his hands up in a placating gesture, seeming generally unbothered for a man with a blade at his throat. A small smirk tugged at his lips despite his narrowed eyes.

Xavier seemed to recognize him. “You. What the hell are you doing here?”

“Easy,” the man spoke. “I have a feeling we’re not on opposing sides here. Put the sword away and let’s talk.”

“Why should I?” Xavier demanded.

“Guys, I think he’s one of Ari’s contacts,” Rafayel said, stepping forward.

The man lowered his head slightly in acknowledgement. “Something like that.”

Zayne watched him. He had no idea who this man was, but if he had information…

“Xavier,” he called after a long second when the hunter still hadn’t budged.

Xavier looked unhappy with the decision, but he dematerialized his sword and stepped away, folding his arms across his chest.

The man turned to Zayne, motioning to his feet. “Doctor?”

Zayne huffed and dispersed his Evol.

The man adjusted the coat he wore over his shoulders. “To get this out of the way, we’re not enemies. I just came for answers.”

“How did you get into Ariadne’s apartment?” Xavier demanded.

The man raised an eyebrow. “Even if she hadn’t given me an open invitation I would have found a way in, one way or another.”

“Enough, we’re not telling you anything until you tell us who you are and what you’re doing here,” Zayne said firmly.

“I’m Sylus,” the man said nonchalantly. “Ariadne met me while she was in the N109 Zone.”

“So, you really are him,” Xavier said darkly. “The leader of Onychinus.”

Zayne stood there speechless for a long moment. What the hell had Ari actually done while she was in the N109 Zone? No wonder she hadn’t been very forthcoming about it.

“If that’s true,” Rafayel said, “Then you probably know some stuff we don’t.”

“It’s possible,” Sylus said cryptically. “But you’ll have to tell me what you know first.”

Zayne didn’t like that at all. He didn’t like the fact that this man had shown up, with an ‘invitation’ to Ari’s apartment no less, but if he really was the leader of Onychinus then he might have the resources they needed to track Ariadne down.

Zayne set his jaw and stepped forward. “I’m willing to hear you out.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Xavier asked, hand clenching by his side.

“Like I said earlier, we don’t have the luxury of picking and choosing our allies right now.”

Rafayel nodded. “I agree. I just want to find Ari as soon as possible.”

“Then I’ll do my best to help with that,” Sylus said. “It seems we do share a common goal after all.”

He looked at all of them. “Now, tell me…who was bold enough to kidnap Ariadne Celest?”

[bunnyy-123]

Truth or Dare

notes: this has spoilers for Sylus’s lore. This is a tickle fic. Lee! Sylus, Ler! Zayne, Rafayel, and Xavier. This is not a shipping fic.

MC stood by the doorway of her apartment, looking at the four men in front of her with worry. She was going to go shopping with Tara, completely forgetting that she had already made plans with the guys. She wanted to cancel, but they insisted they could wait for her. That meant having to leave the men alone together in her apartment. “Ok so…I’m going now…” MC said. “Safe travels.” Zayne replied. “Can you bring us back noodles?” Xavier asked. “How long are you gonna be gone?!” Rafayel whined. Only Sylus didn’t say anything. “It won’t be long. Just….no fighting , ok?” MC said. “Can you specify what kind of fighting you’re talking about?” Sylus asked.

“What other definition of fighting could there be?” Xavier said. “Physical fighting, verbal fighting…” Sylus replied.

“Play fighting.” Rafayel added. “You guys know what I mean! No threats, no insults, no using your Evol-“ “We understand.” Zayne said. MC closed the door and left. The four men sat on the couch. It was awkward.

“Ugh. This is boring. Does she have any games here?” Rafayel asked. “We shouldn’t go through her stuff.” Zayne said. “Let’s just come up with something else to do.” Xavier said. Rafayel sighed. “If only Miss Bodyguard had some paints in here or something…”

“I have an idea,” Sylus said. “Let’s play a game that will help us get to know each other.” “Do you have something in mind?” Xavier asked.

“I do. It’s called truth or dare.” Sylus smirked. Rafayel scoffed. “You mean the game that girls play at sleepovers?” “I think anyone can play it.” Xavier said. “What are we? A bunch of middle schoolers?”

“You certainly act like one at times.” Zayne said. “Truth or dare it is. Who wants to go first?” Sylus asked. “Since you suggested it, you should go first.” Zayne said. “Ok. Go ahead and ask me.” “Truth or dare?” Xavier asked. “Dare.”

“Of course he’d pick dare.” Rafayel crossed his arms.

“Be quiet. I’m trying to think of something good.” Xavier said. He thought about it for a moment. “Ok, I got it. MC said you like to sing. So, sing something.” Sylus smirked. He did like singing. Unfortunately for the guys, he was not good at it. When he began to sing, they all tried to keep a straight face. Rafayel shot a look at Xavier, who was trying to be polite but it was obvious he was starting to regret his decision. “That was….um….interesting, Sylus.” Zayne said. “Thank you.” Sylus replied. “Yeah. I’m surprised you can hit notes that only dogs can hear.” Rafayel said. Sylus glared at him. “He was not that high pitched Rafayel.” Xavier said. “But the quality of his voice sounded like a dog whistle-“

“You have terrible taste,” Sylus shook his head. “Just for that, it’s your turn Rafayel. Truth or dare?” Rafayel pouted. “Hmph. Truth.” Sylus chuckled. “Just how close are you to MC?” “Why are we bringing her into this?” Zayne questioned. “Yeah, why are we bringing her into this!” Rafayel agreed. “You picked truth. Answer the question.” Sylus responded.

“Well…she’s my bodyguard.” Rafayel said. “Really? Is that the full extent of your relationship with her?” Sylus asked. “You don’t….find her attractive?” “W-what?!” Rafayel exclaimed. “He answered the question. Let’s move on.” Zayne pinched the bridge of his nose. “Xavier, truth or dare?” Rafayel asked.

“Dare.” “Yessss. Finally something fun.” Rafayel grinned. “Now I’m scared.” Xavier said.

“Oh come on, Xavier,” Sylus smirked. “You’re a hunter. Surely you’re not scared of a dare?” “Ok, I’m not scared. But if I’m honest, I’m a little nervous because of what Rafayel said.” Xavier said. “Xavier! I dare you to….lick the floor!” Rafayel ordered. “What? Seriously? That’s it?” “I can be even meaner if you want.”

“…No. I’ll do it.” Xavier got down on his knees. “Is he…actually going to….” Sylus stopped speaking when Xavier leaned down and licked the floor. “That’s disgusting,” Zayne scowled. “Completely unhygienic.” “It was a dare,” Xavier said. “I’m not going to be a coward just because something is gross.” “There are so many germs that could get you sick-“

“Zayne, you’re the only one who didn’t go yet.” Sylus pointed out. “…I don’t appreciate you interrupting me.” Zayne said. “Blah blah blah, germs are gross, we get it.” Rafayel said. “Truth or dare Zayne?” Xavier asked.

“Truth. I am not doing anything ridiculous in front of you.” Zayne huffed. “Ok…hm…what’s your guilty pleasure?” Xavier asked.

“Not that I feel particularly guilty about it, but I guess eating sweets despite telling my patients not to.” Zayne said. “Wow. You’re a hypocrite.” Xavier said. “What? It’s for their own good.” Zayne said. “But now that I’ve answered your question, I suppose it’s my turn to ask someone else.” “Yeah. That’s how it works.” Rafayel nodded. “Or you could end it here if you want.” Sylus said. “Sounds suspicious.” Xavier said. “Sylus, truth or dare?” Zayne asked.

“Truth, since none of you appreciated my singing skills.” Sylus said. “Are you truly invincible?” “Hm….thats a good way of putting things. My evol does allow my wounds to heal quickly.” Sylus nodded. “So, if I stabbed you with my sword, you wouldn’t die?” Xavier questioned. “I’ve been shot through the chest. I’m positive your sword wouldn’t do anything too serious.” Sylus said. “That’s…very interesting.” Zayne said.

“I suppose it is.” Sylus agreed. “But you can feel things right?!” Rafayel asked. “…I am not immune to tactile pain or pleasure if that’s what you’re asking.” Sylus said. “So…if Xavier stabbed you…it would hurt?”

Sylus raised an eyebrow. “Are you two planning an assassination attempt?”

“Hey. Remember what we were told,” Zayne said. “No fighting.” “I’m curious to how this works.” Rafayel stood up and walked to Sylus. “You can feel things but they can’t hurt you?” He prodded Sylus’s shoulder. Sylus sighed.

“I’m curious too. From a medical standpoint.” Zayne said. “I certainly hope you’re not going to poke and prod me like this one here.” Sylus grumbled. Zayne shook his head. Rafayel poked Sylus’s stomach. Sylus flinched and flashed him a glare. “Huh…what an interesting reaction-“ Rafayel kept poking.

“You little brat-“ Sylus protested. “I think he’s ticklish!” Rafayel said. “What?! I am not!” Sylus gave him a death glare. “You suuuuure?”

“I think you have a death wish.” Rafayel started to tickle him. To Zayne and Xavier’s surprise, Sylus actually laughed. “Did….did I hear that right?” Zayne blinked. “Stohohop thahahat!” Sylus squirmed away from Rafayel. “No, I heard it too.” Xavier smirked. “He laughed. He’s ticklish.”

“That’s an amusing development.” Zayne smirked as well. He and Xavier joined Rafayel in on the tickling. Rafayel tickled his stomach, while Zayne and Xavier tickled his sides and ribs. “I’m going to kihihihil you all!” Sylus yelled between laughs. “Hey. You remember MC’s rule, remember? No violence!” Rafayel teased. They tickled him for a few more seconds before stopping. Sylus glared at the three of them, but his ears were bright red. “Guess you’re not invincible after all.” Xavier said and Zayne chuckled. “…Here’s a reminder for you three. I don’t need sleep. You do.” Sylus said.