#i would never expect zayne to keep any of it

[jinwoosbabyboo]

𝚂𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙶𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎

My personal headcanons to how the LADS Men react to being flirted with and if you ave to step in and save them or not. [Requested by: goddessesofeverything]

Your man was perfect. A one of one without a doubt. From his character to how he treated you was immaculate. The fact that he was absolutely stunning was a cherry on top. From the slope of his nose to the strong veiny hands that handled you as if you were fine china. You could admire him for hours and never get tired of looking at him. He was a dream come true and too good to be true all in one.

However, you never doubted him or ever felt insecure in your relationship which is why seeing women constantly staring and swooning didn’t bother you. A few of them flirted from time to time and you laughed every time you watched their flirty smiles turn to shock or disgust when they were immediately shot down by your man.

Usually it only takes the initial rejection to keep them from coming back, but some are a little more persistent. So who better to save him than you.

𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎

acts dense when someone flirts with him

so monotone during the conversation the person flirting ends up awkwardly walking away

tells you what they said and you have to tell him “yea Zayne she was flirting with you”

the type to just walk away if he feels uncomfortable

gives you a look when you stand by and giggle while his eyes are screaming for help

the times when you step in the save him he smiles to himself with butterflies in his stomach.

the type to definitely name drop “My wife is right over there” "I'd rather have drinks with my wife" even if you're not married yet he would say this just to make your relationship more serious

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚕

a master manipulator right here he can play the part so his faux kindness can get taken for flirting

when you’re not around he is rude as hell

when you’re around he’s dramatic as hell with it

“My girlfriend can fight” “Unhand me!” “My girl will kill you and me so I suggest you walk away or you better get right with God because you’re about to meet him”

expects you to come to his rescue every. single. time.

the type to run and I mean literally run and hide behind you “that lady is trying to get me!” ��Raf… “Don’t let me get took!”

if you don’t verbally abuse the person flirting with him he’ll bring it up any chance he gets

throws a fit when you just watch instead of helping “Why do you hate me?” “I don’t hate you” “So you just don’t care about me huh?!” “Here you go” “No no it’s fine when I get kidnapped by a crazy fan I hope you feel terrible”

𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛

Responds to the flirting with confusion or just stares

Brings them to you and says “Do you know her?”

Unintentionally makes the situation so awkward for them that they end up walking away

name drops if they’re too persistent “I only eat with my girlfriend and you’re not her” “My girlfriend is waiting for me”

if someone flirts with him while you’re there expect to get those big doe eyes if you don’t step in “Were you going to let her flirt with me?” “I trust you” “Save me next time”

complains to you about being tired after the encounter

doesn’t say it but deep down he wants you to be jealous like he is when some guy simply talks to you

𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜

9 times out of 10 he doesn’t get approached directly ; usually notes or a small gift sent his way

on the rare occasion he does get approached he’s sassy but it just sounds like they’re being scolded by their boss “You’re quite brazen wouldn’t you agree?” “Did you run through the possibilities that I'm not for the taking?”

quick to mention he’s taken and will tell you everything that she’s saying

if you are there to witness someone flirting with him he’d simply stare at you the entire time “Would you really let another woman have me?” “As if anyone can take you from me”

doing a mental happy dance when you do step in to save him from bold harlot who has the audacity to flirt with him right in front of you

will be sarcastic as hell when asking why you didn’t step in sooner “What took so long? What if she threw me in her car and drove off?” “If someone ever managed to throw you anywhere it’s because you let them” “I thought you’d grown tired of me for a minute there” “Are you done?”

𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚋

is honestly used to having girls throw themselves at him so he’s a pro at ignoring it

wants you to step in but you never do because he’ll tease you about it later “Were you even slightly worried I'd be swayed by her?” “Let's see she’s twirling her hair in your face while you’re happily pulling mine out of your ass crack in the shower so no i'm not worried” silenced his ass

100% name drops if they’re too persistent “My girlfriend will kill you and me I suggest you back up” “I’M MARRIED!” “My girlfriend is right there”

jokes about wanting praise when he rejects someone “Don’t I get a kiss for my valiant effort?” “For doing the bare minimum?” “I wouldn’t say it was the bare minimum” “How about you just don’t say anything you're so handsome when you shut the fuck up”

[sqgeism]

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 𝐢 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 (𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭) | love and deep space men x gender neutral reader

💌 — ; kinda mad that i didn't take a stab at it ! lads men (zayne, xavier, rafayel) and the habits they've built because of you.. oh, and you broke up (＾＾；)

love mail — added synopsis !! lads debut lads, debut :3 my favey is zayne so if it looks obvi ignore that... (author hasn't played since release be warned for inaccurate depictions.) also i'll be writing for caleb and sylus soon! i just wasn't playing on their release so i wanna do the og three! (^_^) also i'm finally home so layout coming back soon!! love you all :3 do we like the new pfp or do we go back?

zayne hasn't seen you in weeks.

why would he? even if he wishes upon every shooting star that passes by his lonely, office window, you aren't coming back. the hunters already transferred you to a new doctor, he won't be seeing you till he closes his eyes and prays someone up there is kind enough to let him dream of you.

it's selfish, he knows. but who will be around to judge him? the house is empty, his bed is cold, and he can't do anything to change that. he aches, he yearns, though zayne has long sealed his fate. he knows he can't have you, not in any universe where the curse follows, which is every single one.

he still looks, despite this. every cafe, every cat in a tree, drawn to check out every dangerous situation in hopes to catch a glimpse of you. when a client came into his office, they asked about the photo of you he still kept on his desk, proudly on display — even though it shouldn't. it's is only way of seeing you, and he needs it, desperately so. the only thing that kept him sane all this time was the way you glowed so effortlessly. he misses that shine, the light of his life, but he'd rather drown in darkness than let you worry about his curse ever again. his worsening winter inside is nothing compared to the coldness in your gaze towards him now.

xavier doesn't know how to stop making space for you. god, he wishes he'd stop, but he can't. it breaks his heart every time he wakes up alone in an empty bed or couch, expecting to see your pretty face, only to stare at the reminder that you're gone.

he loathes waking up, getting out of bed, just to see your face at work but it isn't as sweet. it's got that sour look when you look at him, and he can't handle it. he wants to see you smile again, he misses being the reason for such a beautiful expression.. but he isn't anymore.

he can pretend well, wear that face of nonchalance and aloofness like it's all natural. everyone in the agency and on enemy sidelines can't read him if they tried. but you can, you always have. and you can see it all in just those eyes.

despite sleeping to escape his reality; xavier is still clearly exhausted. it's more than drowsiness, it's akin to despair. he can't handle this ache that comes with breaking up. but he knows it's for the best, even if he keeps making space for someone who will never fill it again, he stands firm on his decision. no matter how much it kills him.

"there's nowhere else to put these", is the excuse rafayel pulls when thomas worriedly checks on him. in his studio, on every canvas and paper; it's you. every photo of you imaginable is painted and hung on his walls, like a painter trying to remember a distant muse, cause he is. when rafayel began to slowly lose his perfect depiction of you in his head, he painted in a frenzy, uncaring of how long it took, or the care he neglected, he couldn't allow himself to lose it.

you became his muse at his darkest time, needing something to give him a *real* a heart in his work. and how is he supposed to ever pick up a brush when you were gone? sunsets are now dull, flowers seem to be empty no matter how vibrant, and everything beautiful didn't seem so anyore. not when he's seen how you looked under the moonlit light, under his sheets and steady in his arms. rafayel can't name a single part in his oceanic or luxurious home that could ever compare to you.

he noticed that you still came by his gallery sometimes, but word of mouth is that it's only to check if his very first painting of you still stands where it's always been, the heart of all his pieces.

watching you stand there, in what he can only assume to be a growing bitterness to the painting every day it still stands, hurts him. he's glad he's completely shut himself out, locked doors and closed curtains back at home, because he doesn't want to know what you'll react if you figured out he still paints you every day like you never left.

[loverboyfang]

the thought of zayne keeping all of the silly handmade stuff i make him cooks me like a fucking lobster . like fuck

[jinwoosungs]

02/06/25; 06:30pm

{ 18+ drabbles / headcanons }

[ when you give them consent to make their fantasies come true with you ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb

notes: some of these were inspired by spicy fanart i’ve come across on twitter / x 🙂‍↕️

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

“care to repeat that, sweetie?” sylus’s gaze was filled with a fierce hunger he reserves only for you, hands already relinquishing its hold on the gun that he had just been polishing prior to you coming into his office.

your breathing comes out in ragged breaths, anticipation coursing through your very veins as you repeat your words to him, “i said… as a gift for you, you can do whatever you want to me.”

he stands up from his desk immediately, loosening the tie of his suit while taking quick strides towards you, “that’s what i thought, kitten.”

he takes a hold of your chin, pressing a searing kiss against your lips. as he could feel you melting into him, sylus slides his hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him before carrying you towards the settee in his office.

he continues kissing you deeply, hands gripping at the front of your blouse before tearing the flimsy fabric off of you. you were about to whine about the loss of your favorite blouse, only to have your words swallowed by yet another searing kiss when sylus delves his large hands into the waistband of your skirt. your breathing hitches when you felt his fingertips linger against your clothed center, setting aside your panties to push a thick finger into your heat.

the sudden intrusion makes you cry out to the onychinus leader, your nails digging into the sofa’s armrest as the squelching sounds of your walls eagerly taking in sylus’s fingers echo throughout the office.

“hn, you’re already so wet for me, kitten. tell me, do you want it?”

you end up moving your cunt up and down his hand, giving him eager nods while begging him to fill you up with his cock. needing no further urging from you, sylus removes his thick fingers from your slick folds. you whimper at the sudden loss of him, however, you did not wait for long when you heard the sounds of shifting fabric before the tip of sylus’s cock was felt at your entrance.

with his powerful grip felt at your waist, sylus pulls you into his lap while sheathing himself inside of your slick walls in one, swift thrust. he doesn’t give you time to adjust, simply bouncing you up and down his cock with a smug grin on his face. as he works on using your cunt as his personal toy, you felt him lean in to whisper in your ear, “you know, i didn’t lock my office door. so anyone can barge in at any moment now, bearing witness to how you’re practically drooling on my cock.”

embarrassingly enough, sylus’s words succeed in making your walls clench further with need for him, doing your best to bite back your moans as you continued to bounce yourself on his cock with fervor.

zayne was in a middle of a conference call when you bounced yourself up and down his aching cock.

when you told zayne that you didn’t mind making his fantasies come true-

you were not expecting the professional doctor of akso hospital to go this far.

on the speaker of zayne’s office phone was a male colleague, giving a lecture about the new medications that just released for the treatment of heart failure. as his voice droned on and on, you forced yourself to keep your moans and soft mewls to a minimum, riding zayne with an eagerness you had never felt before.

this was such a new side to him, one that you hadn’t seen before. each time your moans got a little too loud, zayne would send a harsh smack! against your backside, giving you a look of disapproval while slowly attempting to remove his erection from your slick walls.

each time he tries to pull away from you, you would shake your head, your eyes pleading at him to give you another chance. zayne would frown at you, placing a single finger against his lips before slamming you back down on his cock. while zayne remained utterly unfazed, you nearly cried out at the sudden sensation, forcing yourself to remain quiet before continuing to ride him.

and even when you felt the embarrassment of potentially being heard on the other line, you couldn’t deny how hot zayne looked at the moment. his glasses were askew while his hair remained a mess from the sheer amount of times you had run your fingers through them. and despite his prior harshness to you, it was obvious that not even he could hold back his expression of pleasure, pursing his lips while he lay back in his seat, simply basking in the feel of your walls surrounding him as the lecture went on.

you swallow thickly when xavier’s eyes darkened after you told him he could do whatever he wanted to you tonight-

forcing you to take a step back when xavier pounces on you, hovering over you in bed as he picks up your hand to place a kiss at the back of them. “then forgive me, my starlight, since i won’t be so gentle with you anymore.”

giving him one last nod of consent, you gasp when xavier surges forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as his hands grip at your shirt, taking off your clothes in a rush as he left you utterly bare for him. his darkened gaze filled with lust was all you could see when he pulls down the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, revealing his erection before placing the tip of it on your lips.

“make me feel good.” xavier’s demand only serves to make the ache much more prominent between your legs, and you followed his command by leaning forward, allowing his cock to rest against your tongue for a brief moment before taking him in.

you move your head back and forth at a steady pace, basking in xavier’s grunts and moans of your name. while his hand was felt gripping at your head, you felt him ram his cock in and out of your mouth, setting a desperate pace that had you seeing stars. as you worked on lubricating his shaft with your saliva, you felt the familiar twitch inside of your mouth, all too ready to swallow what he had to offer when xavier pulls away from the confines of your mouth with a single pop!

“that’s enough…” he manages to stop himself from cumming in your mouth, hands now spreading your legs before settling himself between them. your breathing hitches when you felt his cock tracing at your folds for a brief moment before completely sheathing himself inside of you, making you cry out to him as he began to pump his cock within your heat, never once stopping until he was satisfied.

rafayel was all too eager to make his greatest fantasies come true with you, allowing you to step into his art studio as he haughtily demanded that you strip yourself of all your clothes.

“rafe, you want me to do what?”

“i think you heard me loud and clear, princess. i want you to take off every piece of clothing that you have, remain bare for me before settling yourself on my couch.”

with a sigh, you ran a hand across your hair before giving him a nod. you slowly take off your clothes, tossing them to the corner of rafayel’s studio. with each piece of fabric you had taken off, you felt the lemurian’s heated gaze on you, never once looking away as you felt the heat blossoming beneath your skin.

when you were finally left bare for him, rafayel takes a moment to admire your form, shaking his head while calling himself a lucky bastard. he gestures at you to lay back on the couch, “relax and look languid for me, princess.”

swallowing thickly, you give him a stiff nod before laying back on the couch, your arms spread comfortably across the pillows while feeling the cold air touching your breasts as it causes your nipples to harden in response. “perfect.” rafayel’s voice takes on a deeper tone when he grabs his sketchbook and charcoal, working on sketching your likeness.

a few minutes pass, and you could already detect the effect you were having on rafayel, seeing the noticeable tent against the front of his pants. the sight of his erection straining through his clothes makes your mouth water as a whimper escapes from your parted lips.

“rafayel… please. don’t make me wait for you any longer... i-i need you.”

his dilated eyes meet your gaze, and he could see the moisture pooling within your pretty little flower, seeing it clench with need for him. letting out a grunt of your name, rafayel tosses aside his sketchbook, taking quick strides towards you when he leans down to capture your lips in a breathtaking kiss.

just mere moments later, rafayel takes off the rest of his clothes before putting you in a mating press, allowing your legs to rest against his slender shoulders as he kept pounding his cock into you over and over again, the sounds of your walls eagerly taking him in reverberating throughout the studio as you succumbed to the pleasure he was giving you.

the moment you told your boyfriend he could do whatever he wanted to you within the comfort of your bed-

caleb wasted no time when he sheds off your clothes, leaving you naked for his eyes alone. a flash of satisfaction was seen in his gaze before he presses your naked body against the top of the mattress. you were given little time to react, head spinning slightly as you became achingly aware of the sounds of caleb hurriedly taking off the rest of his clothes, the sounds of shifting fabrics as he tosses them aside to the corner of the room.

you hear his heavy breathing and attempt to look back at him, only to feel his large hand pressing down against the small of your back. “not so fast, pipsqueak. you are going to remain in this position until i tell you to move.”

a shiver was felt running down your spine at the sound of the possessive edge in his voice. not wishing to upset him, you remain obedient, pressing the front of your body against the bed while resting your cheek against your comforter.

you wait with bated breath for his next move, suddenly feeling caleb’s heavy body pressing down on your back. his breathing was hot and heavy against your ears, feeling his teeth lightly biting down on your earlobe. you shiver at the sudden sensation, letting out a soft moan when you felt caleb spread your legs further for him, his cock brushing against your cunt from the back before completely sheathing himself within your heat.

his powerful biceps comes around your neck just then, keeping you in a headlock while he kept pounding himself in and out of you. the sensation of lightly being choked by him along with the thick feel of his cock sliding in and out of you at a rapid pace makes you see stars. you were certain that your eyes had hearts in them with how good your colonel was making you feel.

feeling the way your walls clenched oh so sweetly around his cock, caleb lets out an amused chuckle. tightening his biceps around your head while giving your hair a kiss, he whispers hedonistic praises to you in hopes of making you fall apart for him. “that’s my good girl, taking me in so well. i promise i’ll take you to heaven soon, baby.”

end notes: just another thirsty daydream to celebrate 2k followers (⺣◡⺣)♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[angelltheninth]

Love and Deepspace Men Pining For You

Pining: Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, angst with a happy ending, love confession, jealousy, kissing, friends to lovers, pining

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Someone needs to take my phone away before I go crazy over these guys. Unless it already happened and I didn't notice.

Zayne is always surrounded by all kinds of attention from women but the only woman he wants the attention of is you. Because he's popular he gets that he might have to be more clear about his intentions with you. It's not just him teasing or being playful when he asks you to those lunch dates, it's not just him wanting to fluster you when he touches your cheek with his fingertips. That is him being completely serious about wanting to date you, wanting to be your boyfriend. You being his girlfriend would make him the happiest man in the world. And if he was your boyfriend he would make sure you never want for anything, he would do anything in his power to make you happy and keep you safe. Kisses would be includes, but they would be more of a bonus to the relationship, a welcome one.

Rafayel feels his whole body flushing when your hands touch. What started as a simple admiration for you has developed into so much more, it's not just about him wanting to be the main subject of his artwork, but the only woman he wants to be his lover. The courtship starts with him painting sceneries that he knows you like and then gifting them to you, they're on small canvases so you can take quite a few of them. Every time he notices you talking to some other guy he gets this adorable pout on his face that he hides by quickly turning on his heel and storming off. Often asks you for what he should draw next, saying how much he values you and your opinion. He's confesses by saying he's always liked painting beautiful things and to him there's no one more beautiful than you.

Xavier thinks over every little thing you do together, carefully combing through your interactions to try and figure out if you like him too. It could be that he's just imagining things and his affections are one-sided. He would hate that of course but his primary goal is to make sure you're safe and happy. As he finds himself thinking more and more of you when he's away he gets scared. Scared that something bad might happen and you won't ever get to find out how he feels about you. Before he's set to leave again he envelopes you in a tight hug, telling you that he will come back for sure, because there's a woman he loves and he will get back to her one way or another. He doesn't kiss you as he leaves, that should be saved for when he comes back, and it is.

Sylus doesn't hold back once you catch his eyes, he saw you and it doesn't matter who saw you before him. He wants you for himself now, he wants to win you over and wants you to only look at him, to only think of him. Very flirty from the beginning and therefore a little hard to read at how genuine he's being with his advances. After a few nights spent together he can't stop thinking about you. Waking up to you is the best part of his day, as is falling asleep next to you. He wants to hold on to those feelings forever, wants to hold onto you forever. Every kiss from you makes his mind go wild in ways he never experianced before. He never expected to fall for you, or that you would return his feelings past the desires you felt for each other, but he did fall, deep and fast and hard, and he's taking you with him.

Caleb has been pining after you for years, before you went your separate ways. You were the only one who kept him going through all these years and now he finally has you back. He doesn't intent to let you go again, or to let any other man have you. The kisses he gives, the touches he makes, the words he speaks leave no room for doubt of his feelings but he also doesn't want to force these feelings onto you. Every day he tells you how much he loves you, hoping that one day he'll hear it back. When he does he honestly thinks he's still dreaming, that you aren't even there, that you were never real, that you can't love the man he is now. But you can, and you do, and just like him you never want to let him go again.

[leighsartworks216]

If You're Quiet During Sex (Headcanons)

Sylus x gn!Reader + Zayne x gn!Reader (separate)

Had this thought because I'm quiet During so I got a little self-deprecating about what they'd think about it... but then I remembered the boys would never make me feel ashamed for that shit

Warnings: sexual content

Word Count: 434 (cool, it's like a little kissy face)

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Sylus

Probably thinks he's not making you feel good enough at first

Shocked when you orgasm because you were so quiet, surely he didn't make you cum already???

Brings it up right away, asks if you liked it

Admits that he expected you to make more noise

If it's purely from inexperience or anxiety, he's more than happy to spend time breaking down those barriers. He won't force you to make noise, but he's definitely more forthcoming with his own sounds to encourage you. Any sound you do make, he's praising you for it and trying to draw it out of you again

If moaning really just isn't your thing, he just asks that you tell him if something feels good or bad. He wants to pleasure you, and he wants to make sure he's doing things you like when he might not notice your little tells in the heat of the moment

Either way, he does keep track of your tells. If you close your eyes and tilt your head back, mouth hanging open, small whimpers or shivers - he's looking for whatever it is that tells him you're enjoying yourself

He's moderately noisy during sex. He'll moan and talk, but it's not like he's trying to project it. It's more close to you, contained in the space between you both, but not so quiet he has to be in your ear to hear it

-

Zayne

I feel like he wouldn't question it as much

Because he's also not very vocal

He himself is very breathy and whines a little, but full moans are few and far between

Communicates a LOT about what you do and don't enjoy before, during and after

Sometimes requests you to speak (*ahem* "Say my name..." from Silent Poem, I'm looking at you), but never pushes you to be loud

If you're quiet because of anxiety or inexperience, he's as reassuring and encouraging as he can be. Would honestly be so proud of you if you start being louder and more vocal over time, because it means you're comfortable with him and that means the world to him. Says as much afterward, cuddling you and nuzzling into your neck with a lovestruck grin as he does

I wonder if you couldn't also influence him into being more noisy during sex. Command or beg him to say your name, tell you how good he feels, suck and bite at his most sensitive spots until he's a whining, simpering mess.....

Imagine his own surprise when you touch him and he lets out a very loud moan that even he wasn't expecting

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry

[tbaluver]

Hi! I love your work and this is my first time requesting.. so please ignore if not interested! ♡

the roles are reversed and you are their favorite character and the LADS boys are the player! That’s all I hope you have a good day/night!~ 💗

When They're The MC- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: slight suggestive content below otherwise fluff ! a/n: hihi anonnie ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ thank you so much for requesting this was such a cute request (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) i hope this was alright and if it wasn't pretend it doesnt exist ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) otherwise i hope to see you again soon anonnie ! enjoy reading ! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Xavier is the type of player to listen to your secret times or tender moments and fall asleep listening to your voice. He likes to imagine you’re right beside him before he falls into his peaceful slumber.

However he does get hard listening to your suggestive audio or scenes that play out.

Spends most of his time grinding out materials for your memories so your character is strong when he reaches end game. Almost has your DeepSpace Trial finished and your affinity level maxed.

Ignores all the calls and text messages of the other main leads except yours.

When he runs out of content for you in the game, he would find solitude on watching edits or reading fanfics of you until the game finally updates its lore for you. Sometimes he'll replay the kindle moments of his favorite cards of you, which is literally all of them.

Zayne:

Nobody expected Zayne to be the type to play this game and at first, neither did he. But he downloaded the game out of curiosity and ended up playing until he reached the end game.

He has your affinity almost maxed out while the rest of the other leads are lower level. He would know all of your lore and has read all of your anecdotes without skipping them for the gems.

Uses the quality time to keep track of his studies but he can’t help but often glance at his screen and find you glancing back at him as well.

He has the Aurum Pass Premium and saves all of his diamonds for your upcoming banners. Does not even bother checking any of the other main leads in the game unless the banner included you

He ONLY plays this game in his room or whenever he's alone. Even though he has his headphones in, he can't help but look around to make sure nobody heard any of your suggestive sounds that sounded like a breathy moan. His ears would turn so red and he can't help but find his hand sliding down his pants

Rafayel:

The type of player that took hours customizing his character to make sure it looks exactly like him. He spends a lot of time with his character and yours in the photo booth. He tries to do a lot of glitches so it looks like you guys are kissing or hugging or him hitting it from the back.

The type that never lets you have a turn at the claw machine. If you managed to have a turn first, he’s IMMEDIATELY requesting to have the next turn. Yes, he thinks your pout is cute whenever you don’t get the plushie but he is NOT wasting any affinity points.

He would use all of his daily emojis just to talk to you and pokes you a lot in the cafe until you get annoyed.

The type to make the most beautiful fanart of you and make the most entertaining edits of you on social media. The type to freak out when he hears your solo banner is coming. He’s literally kicking his feet and rolling around in his bed in excitement

Sylus:

Sylus wasn’t interested in the game at first until your trailer kept popping up and out of curiosity and interest in your character, he decided to try it.

He became the BIGGEST spender when it comes to only your character. He would have all your cards maxed out from the levels and to the protocores. Each card he has of you would be ranked up to level 3 and most of your five stars are awakened. He has all your outfits and all of your poses.

However he would have the biggest frown on his face when he loses his pity the first couple of pulls. That’s not going to stop him until he has all your memories.

He is the type to tease your character by touching you a lot in the cafe to the point you're crossing your arms with a pout and your cheeks are flushed.

Spends a while in the photobooth to stare at your chest or you characters butt. Shamelessly tries to do a couple dirty glitches and the thought of you being real wouldn't leave his mind

Bonus: They all hate Lemonette.

[downbad4sylus]

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

synopsis: You and Sylus visit a coffee shop and unexpectedly run into Doctor Zayne.

content: sylus x afab!reader; reader is MC; use of Y/N; pre-relationship; zayne cameo; just, so much fluff; mostly proofread

word count: ~2k

a/n: see guys, i’m capable of writing not-angst. also can you tell i have a headcanon about them holding hands while linked or what lol. anyway, i love exploring the dynamics of sylus with the other LIs, i have another one brewing ft. our resident doctor (NOT ANGST) and i’ll probably do some with the others in the future. if anyone has anything they want me try and write for them, please feel free to ask, im happy to do so :)

Dragging Sylus out in Linkon City during the day was never easy, but when a certain energy linkage was keeping you locked to each other’s sides and you just had to have your morning coffee, Sylus was a bit more agreeable.

So there you both stood, waiting in line to order. You’d developed a bit of a habit of holding hands as you’d long since grown used to the linkage binding your wrists. Sylus’s hand dwarfed yours, something that took time to get accustomed to, but now the feeling of his fingers laced with yours was a comfort, and admittedly something you often craved without the linkage.

“Will you let me pay for you this time?” you asked Sylus, peering up at him.

He breathed a low chuckle. “Don’t think so, sweetie,” he replied.

“You never let me pay for anything,” you grumbled.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

You tugged Sylus along as you stepped up to the cashier. After placing both your orders (and begrudgingly allowing Sylus to pay), you waited off to the side for your names to be called.

“I’d like to go for a walk after this, if that’s okay,” you said to Sylus. It was overcast today, weather Sylus was more comfortable to be in during the day, you’d noticed.

“That’s fine,” Sylus said. “Where would you like to go?”

You beamed at him. “Actually, there’s a park not far from here, and since the leaves are starting to turn the scenery should be perfect for a—”

“Y/N?”

You whirled around at the sound of your name, spoken by an all too familiar voice.

“Zayne?”

Sure enough, there was your primary care physician, standing with his brow slightly furrowed and his gaze locked on yours and Sylus’s intertwined hands.

“I wasn’t expecting to run into you here,” you commented, drawing his attention from your hand to your eyes.

“This coffee shop isn’t far from the hospital, I stop here in the mornings quite often,” Zayne said. His hazel eyes flicked to Sylus. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

“Oh!” you exclaimed. “Right, Doctor Zayne this is Sy—uh, Skye, he’s…” you trailed off, panic seizing your mind as you fumbled for any explanation as to why you were here with Sylus, holding his hand, that wasn’t the actual truth.

“Her boyfriend,” Sylus lied smoothly, sticking out his unoccupied hand at Zayne. “It’s nice to finally meet you, doctor, Y/N’s told me a lot about you.”

You missed the nearly imperceptible flare of Zayne’s eyes at Sylus’s answer, too busy short circuiting over the fact that Sylus had just introduced himself as your boyfriend. When had you gone from “besties” to “boyfriend?”

“Nice to meet you too,” Zayne said politely, shaking Sylus’s hand. “Y/N, you never told me you were seeing someone.”

Sylus laughed. “We only just became official.”

You finally managed to regain your composure. “Right, and I haven’t been by for an appointment since then, otherwise I would’ve told you,” you said, bolstering the lie.

Zayne nodded, as if satisfied by your answers. “Well, then I suppose congratulations are in order.”

“Oh, Zayne please, that’s not necessary,” you insisted. A barista called for your orders, which Sylus grabbed and handed to you before taking his own. “Zayne, why don’t you come sit with us? Unless you have important doctor business to take care of.”

Zayne’s lips tilted ever so slightly at your teasing remark. “Sure, I have some time before I have to get back.”

Once Zayne received his coffee, the three of you found an unoccupied table and sat, with you and Sylus on one side, hands still clasped, and Zayne on the other.

“So, how long have you two been seeing each other?” Zayne asked with clinical precision, his stare just as sharp.

“Quite a few months now,” Sylus said. His bright red eyes focused on you. “Y/N practically fell on my doorstep, and I guess you could say the rest is history.”

You snorted, though your cheeks were as red as Sylus’s eyes. “That’s one way to describe it,” you muttered.

“What, sweetie? Would you explain it differently?” Sylus asked, raising a brow.

You shook your head. “No, yours was fine,” you quipped.

“How kind,” Sylus drawled.

You glanced at Zayne and found him watching the two of you with his head tilted. Mirth danced in his hazel eyes, as if observing the “happy couple” was amusing.

“How’s work been, Doctor Zayne?” you asked.

“Fine, the usual,” he answered. “And you? Any injuries you haven’t told me about either?”

“No,” you said firmly. “I’ve been very careful.”

Zayne’s lips curled. “I have a hard time believing that. Skye, has our Hunter been careful lately?”

Sylus’s fingers twitched around yours but his expression didn’t falter. “To everyone’s surprise, she has. No secret injuries to report.”

Zayne made a satisfied hum. “What do you do for work Skye?”

You stiffened. Nothing caused you more anxiety than when someone asked Sylus too many questions. He was a practiced smooth talker, able to craft a believable lie without a second thought, but you still couldn’t help worrying. The last thing you wanted was for him to be recognized, for him to be taken away from you.

Sylus rubbed his thumb along yours soothingly. “I own a few small businesses here and there,” he told the doctor.

“He runs a fruit stall!” you chimed in excitedly.

“That’s one of the few,” Sylus chuckled.

“I had some of his watermelon once at a work function he happened to be catering,” you continued. The very same work function Sylus had called you “besties.” Sylus really was your best friend though, you realized so suddenly your heart practically skipped a beat.

“Well, I’m glad that business is good then,” Zayne said.

You and Zayne then slipped into a casual conversation, catching up on the recent happenings in each other’s lives, while Sylus remained more of a quiet observer.

Actually, Sylus was debating on whether or not to kill (or seriously maim) your primary care physician.

Sylus would never admit to being jealous, but his chest tightened watching you speak to the doctor, hearing the way you laughed at his eerily similar dry humor. He knew you’d been childhood friends and had a long history, but it certainly didn’t help that the way Zayne looked at you was the exact same way Sylus looked at you. And he hadn’t missed the flash of longing in Zayne’s eyes when he’d first spotted your clasped hands at the counter. It was why Sylus had gone out of his way to introduce himself as your boyfriend, even if it meant speeding up his timeline with you a little.

However, Sylus couldn’t deny that Zayne’s role as your primary care physician was an important one, crucial even. He was a renowned cardiac surgeon and an expert in Protocore Syndrome, making him perhaps the only person equipped to help with your heart condition. So Sylus would let him live, because you would be upset with him if he didn’t, and because he was a valuable asset.

Finishing the last of his coffee, Zayne flipped his wrist, checking the time on his watch. “I’m afraid I have to get going now, my break is almost over,” he declared, rising from his seat. “It was nice meeting you Skye, and I’ll see you for your next check up soon, Y/N. No getting hurt in the meantime, okay?”

“Hey! I told you I was being careful!” you exclaimed.

Zayne gave Sylus a withering look. “It’s good to know there’s someone else who understands Y/N’s penchant for danger.”

Sylus recognized the comment for what it was, a white flag thrown at his feet.

Brow cocked and mouth tilted, Sylus picked it up. “Her recklessness knows no bounds.”

“Since when did this become a gang-up-on-Y/N session?” you questioned.

Both Zayne and Sylus chuckled.

“Thank you for the invitation,” Zayne said. “I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.”

“I’m sure,” Sylus replied.

“It was nice seeing you Doctor Zayne!” you called after him as he swiftly took his leave.

You and Sylus left shortly thereafter, going to the park you had mentioned to walk amongst the multicolored trees. The linkage dissipated on the way over, but Sylus never let go of your hand.

And now alone with him, your thoughts spiraled.

You couldn’t deny that you had feelings for him, you had for quite a while. You two had been spending a lot of time together recently, whether it was you frequenting Onychinus’s base and ruining your sleep schedule, or him staying over at your apartment and ruining his sleep schedule. But even so, you weren’t sure if Sylus felt the same about you, and now that he’d so casually introduced himself as your boyfriend, you didn’t know what to think.

“I think I see steam coming out of your ears, sweetie.”

You whipped your head toward him. “Why would you say that?”

He smirked. “You’re thinking very loudly. Tell me, what is it?”

It was hard to deny him when he spoke so softly, something he reserved for you and you alone.

“Why did you say you were my boyfriend?” you asked quietly, averting your gaze.

“Because it was easier than explaining our actual relationship,” Sylus said simply.

“And what, exactly, is our actual relationship?”

His brow quirked. “I was under the impression we were something far more than just boyfriend and girlfriend, unless I’ve misread the situation.”

You pulled him to a stop, gaping at him. “Are you being serious right now?”

“Of course I’m being serious, when have I ever not been?” Sylus tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Have I misread the situation, sweetie?”

It was rare to see Sylus nervous, if that was what you could call it.

You shook your head. “No, I just—I had no idea you felt that way.”

Sylus huffed. “Y/N, I told you that I adore you, that there is no love purer than mine, what else could I have meant by that?”

“I don’t know,” you murmured.

He brought your entwined hands up to his lips, kissing the back of yours. “Talk to me, kitten.”

“Are you saying you love me?” you blurted.

Sylus grinned. “I am,” he said.

“Then say it,” you demanded.

He tugged your hand and you fell into his chest. His free hand threaded into your hair and tilted your head up to look at him, into those mesmerizing red eyes.

“I love you, Y/N,” he said, his deep voice so tender it made your heart flutter.

“Sylus,” you breathed. You reached up and cupped his cheek, tears welling in your eyes. “I love you too.”

He huffed a disbelieving chuckle before pressing the most gentle kiss to your forehead. “We should’ve run into your doctor sooner,” he murmured against your skin.

You reared back, slapping his chest. “Don’t ruin our moment!”

Sylus only laughed in response.

Finally letting go of your hand, he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you impossibly closer. Your own arms twined around his neck, stretching on your tip toes to better maintain eye contact.

“So where does this leave us?” you asked.

Sylus shrugged a shoulder. “Where do you want it to leave us?”

You smiled. “Well, I guess you’re my boyfriend now, even though you never formally asked me to be your girlfriend.”

His lips twitched. “Would you like me to perform a grand gesture?”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

“All right, kitten, then I hope you look forward to it.”

[strwberri-milk]

Can I request headcanons for Sylus, and Zayne reacting to his shy gn s/o asking him if you can kiss him on the lips in private please?

i uh dk what the in private does for the context so i hope i figured it out enough for this??

He knows that you're shy and it's never mattered to him. He's let you set the parameters of your relationship. You taught him what things you're comfortable with him doing and so he's able to give you affection without needing to ask you first. He's also very aware that you don't like him giving you any PDA.

Zayne doesn't mind that you don't like PDA. He's of the mind that for the most part, he'd rather keep it at home. In public he just likes to hold your hand and sometimes put an arm around your waist to guide you around and make sure you don't get lost. When you ask him to kiss you in private he's more than happy to respond. It's not really anything different than what he expects but he's proud of you for being able to ask him for something you want.

Sylus would like it if you were more open to PDA because he wants to be able to show off that he's yours and you're his. It's not the end of the world to him though - he's more than happy to do whatever you need to be comfortable. He loves it when you seem to be getting a little less shy around him so if you ask him for a kiss in private he'll try not to make too big a deal out of it for fear of scaring you off. He'll happily kiss you when you ask him for it, even choosing to thank you for being so sweet about it.

[muqingslover]

[ is that angst I smell? The menu for tonight offers the LADS boys and how they are post-breakup with you! yum! the reason for the break-up is open bc it's besides the point. Also, how do we feel about this layout? ]

Now playing: The cut that always bleeds by Conan Gray

Part of him had always expected this to happen. The ugly and resentful side of his heart that never believed in the so called "love" you held for him after the horrible things he went through and in the end he was proven right.

How many more reincarnations would he have to live through until you finally learned to love him? Or maybe this was his punishment for sacrificing the lives of his own people for someone who won't even look his way.

Personally, I don't think he's a weak, whiny baby most people describe him as. I firmly believe Rafayel can be resentful and angry, he just keeps it hidden so you won't see it. This time however? Oh you're seeing all the sides of him.

He wouldn't ever hurt you, absolutely not, but he will raise his voice when he questions why you were doing this to him, why were you forsaking him again, when he's given you everything he possibly could.

"Why is it never enough for you?! Why is it so damn hard for me to be enough for you?! Answer me!" The tears streaming down his face are something he doesn't even realize until his eyes begin to sting. How many centuries has it been since he had last cried?

For months he'd stay locked inside his studio and no one is allowed to visit, not even his aunt is able to help. The paintings he had of you were all ruined but Rafayel still found himself sketching your face like clockwork each time he stood in front of an empty canvas.

He feels angry, betrayed and he's just so, so hurt. I believe that depending on the reason behind the breakup it could very well be his last straw and will lead to him returning to the sea for good.

One day he's just gone without a trace and he's never coming back.

Now playing: The loneliest by Måneskin

He can't believe this is happening. Like, you choosing to break up with him was never even an option in his mind. Xavier would immediately assume it was his fault and beg for you to let him try and fix whatever went wrong.

His entire world shatters when you walk out the door and somehow it hurts so much more than when he held you in his arms as life left your body.

For months he would take part of the same missions you did, visit the same spaces, take the same train and do anything he could to be apart of your life. The silence between the two of you is suffocating but, surprisingly, Xavier is the one who makes the effort to make conversation about even the simplest of things.

His emotional state would completely drain him. He is so exhausted but he can't sleep at all. Not when he knows you chose to not be by his side.

Nevertheless, Xavier would keep trying, trying and trying and then some more. He brings you things he tried to cook in hope it'll make you smile the same way it did before only to end up throwing it away in a bin after you declined it.

Eventually his exhaustion would catch up to him and lead to a fatal mistake while out in a mission. He is stubborn, but there is only so much he can do when his own body is running into the ground.

"Can you see the sky from where you are?" He would ask during a call you received in the middle of the night in which, unknown to you, would be the last time you ever heard his voice. To Xavier however, he was relived he was able to hear your voice while under the same sky one last time.

Now playing: Promise by Laufey

The breakup itself is so quiet and calm. The two of you discussed things and he accepted it. Zayne would always, always, respect your choices. If being by his side was not something you wanted then he will let you go without any claw marks.

It was too awkward to be around each other so what follows are weeks of radio silence. He throws himself into his work, but he can't find the focus to properly do his job. His mind always go back to you— Were you okay? Were you thinking of him at all? Were you eating and sleeping well? Who was by your side now?

He breaks the no contact rule first to check on you and although he isn't sure if what he feels is genuine relief when he sees you doing well at least that's...closure. You're happy and healthy, even without him, and he couldn't ask for more than that.

Zayne feels as if everything around him turned dull and grey. His heart frozen in time after you left and he is nothing more than a husk that functions on autopilot until his body breaks down.

He feels cold regardless of the temperature now that you're not here and he believes it is what it is. He tried, he truly did his absolute best, but he can't take away from your happiness.

The two of you will return to being friends after a while and he will continue to support and care for you like he always did. To you, the moments you shared will soon be forgotten while Zayne he will forever remain frozen in those warm memories.

Now playing: The Moon will sing by The Crave Wives

His hands gently cradle your face as he asks you to please talk to him because there's nothing he wouldn't do for you. Except sometimes there are are things he simply can't do and that's something he would be forced to accept.

Sylus would ask to keep contact even if it's just for the sake of business and uses any and every excuse to see you or hear your voice. If he can't be wanted then he will be needed and if he can't be needed then he is okay with being used as long as it's by your hands.

In truth, he wouldn't ever give you up regardless if you fell for someone else or years pass. He will be frustrated and hurt at times, but he can be patient. He will wait until it's his turn to be deserving of your heart again.

Though that does not mean he will do absolutely nothing. Sylus would tell you every day that he still loves you and it doesn't matter what you say because he won't ever feel disencouraged.

"I'm not expecting anything or pressuring you. I'm only reminding you that my love for you won't change even if you're not by my side." His voice is like a gentle coo as his hand comes to pat your head, playfully ruffling your hair so you would drop the serious expression on your pretty face.

Now playing: In my room by Julia Wolf

The biggest CRASH out.

First, he knows you want to break up before you even gather up the courage to bring it up and he finds a way to stop you from saying it every. single. time.

"Caleb I think—" "Oh! I completely forgot! I got these tickets to the show you wanted to go! C'mon, c'mon! We'll be late!"

He is in strong denial after you finally manage to say it. He'd claim you're just confused about things and that it'll pass as long as you give it some time because you don't truly mean it. You need him, how could you ever think otherwise?

He will keep calling and texting you non-stop— He begs you to talk to him and rethink your choice. You're obviously making a mistake so please stop this already.

It would take a lot to make him stop. Unless you had an ironclad reason to not come back to him then he would keep going. When he does stop though? Oof.

Caleb could only endure the torture and damage done to him mentally and physically all those years because you were his anchor. His entire life is centered around you and now that you're gone he'd lose all of his motivation.

The last time you hear from him is through the news you'd receive about the colonel who took his own life.

"Please keep me close to your heart." Your eyes read the words on the letter while your other hand clutched the necklace he left for you. Would you grant him this one last, selfish wish of his?

[lxvebun]

heart shaped kisses (LaDS edition)

synopsis: kisses/How they kiss you

buns notes: I'm pretty new to the game and I'm aware there are kissing cards already, this is just my version of it🫶 guess my fav lol

content : Zayne/Caleb/Sylus x gender neutral reader. Reader is not mc. Fluff. Slightly suggestive. Lovesick!Caleb my beloved. Forehead kisses. Neck kisses. Eng is not my first language so I'm sorry for any mistakes<3 around 800 words♡

Heartshaped kisses m.list (multifandom) lads m.list

୨ৎ Zayne

Despite his cold exterior (or evol), Zayne's kisses are incredibly warm. It's almost as if you're being kissed by a beam of sunlight on an icy winter's day. His kisses are gentle, soothing, and all too easy to melt into. Does he really expect you not to pull him a little closer and keep him with you for just a little longer if this is how he decides to kiss you goodbye in the morning?

His glasses have long been discarded after fogging up the pretty sight of you, and his once-neat button-up is now wrinkled. You're afraid Dr. Zayne may be slightly late for work.

Then again, his alarm did go off a little earlier than usual today.....how odd.

୨ৎCaleb

Ugh this man. I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure. Give him to meeee

He knows what he's doing... Looking at you so tenderly as you talk about your day, eyes soft and admiring, darting from your gaze to your lips and back. He's listening, he is! But every syllable leaving your lips, the sound of your voice so melodic in his ears, makes it hard for him to concentrate. His hands itch to make their way to your waist and pull you into him, his mind already getting a little foggy in a mist of hearts and flowers. He never really asks you to give him a kiss; you've just learned to pick up on his incredibly non-subtle hints. And truly, it would be cruel to resist, no?

But he's as sweet as he is annoying because the moment you lean in, he pulls away. He fixes his posture, stands up to his full height, and looks down at you with this stupidly handsome smirk. He chuckles a little as you roll your eyes at him and sigh. You know what he wants; he knows it's coming. You can tell by the glimmer in his eyes, bordering on giddiness. He likes it when you pull him down by his necklace to meet you in a kiss<3 so curling your fingers around the delicate silver metal, you're barely even pulling as he's already starting to lean down to capture your lips in a sickeningly sweet kiss~♡

Caleb's kisses are passionate. An overwhelming amount of Devotion bordering on reverence bleed into every kiss. Marking a trail from your lips to the softness of your jaw, down to the pulse point in your neck, lingering there before kissing his way back to your lips. Frenzied, it sometimes feels like he craves you more than the air he needs to breathe. Should it scare you? Maybe. But the sweetness of the silent "I love you's" pouring out through breathless kisses and little love nibbles is enough to distract you from the sharpness of his teeth as they near your pulse and the way his hands seem to sink into your skin, a little too rough, a little too desperate for there to be nothing behind it.

୨ৎSylus

"A kiss is the beginning of cannibalism."

You're reminded of this quote every time Sylus kisses you. Feverish. Hungry. Truly, it feels like he's trying to devour you whole in the sweetest ways possible, desperately trying to let some part of him linger on you, melt into you, and become one with the blood flowing through your veins. Trying to burn a permanent place into your body, heart and soul, so you could never, ever forget him.

However, he has his softer moments—kisses that are no less passionate and feverish, but a whole lot calmer. No hitched breaths, no clashing teeth. It's sweet kisses to your cheek whenever you walk past, pressing a few extra here and there as he cradles your face, rubbing comforting circles into your jaw with his thumb before releasing you and letting you get back to what you were originally doing.

And It's soft forehead kisses as you sleep when the slight frown on your face tells him you're having a nightmare. He smooths out the furrow in your brow before pressing his lips there, hoping the kisses trancends into your dream, acting as some sort of protective shield against whatever monster your mind decided to conjure up. He hopes it looks nothing like him.

[cairoblair]

LADS men and their red flags

(a/n: this is my opinion of the LADS men’s red flags in a relationship based on my understanding of their characters and their dynamics with MC)

Rafayel

Manipulation

I think Rafayel would have a tendency to guilt-trip through passive aggressive comments. When he’s upset, you might get the cold shoulder, but more often than not he’s making a snide comment about the situation or about something you said. He’ll do this until you finally make up, and he’ll apologize for his actions, but that won’t stop him from doing it again.

Xavier

Jealousy

Xavier simply can’t stand seeing you around other men. It doesn’t matter if they’re being completely platonic with you, it grinds his gears. He won’t necessarily start a fight over it - he tends to avoid conflict - but you’ll know. He’ll shoot the man a hard glare or pull you closer, or even blatantly interrupt your conversation to drag you away. He can’t stand the thought of any other man getting your attention. He’ll try to make it up to you when you get upset about it, but don’t expect him to change.

Zayne

Lack of Affection

Zayne is not very outwardly emotional, so getting affection from him can be difficult when it’s not just the two of you. In private, he has no problem with you being all over him. But, in public, especially around his colleagues, he almost seems like he’s ignoring you. He might leave his hand on your waist or leave his fingers intertwined with yours, but other than that, his attention seems to be anywhere but you. He’s trying though - he’s not used to being openly affectionate. (thanks astra.)

Sylus

Lack of Communication

Usually, Sylus can’t go very long without seeing you, or at least talking to you. But, when he has a business deal or a meeting to deal with, you may not hear from him for days on end. It’s complete radio silence - no calls, no texts, and not even a response to the various ways you’ve tried to reach him. He’ll suddenly pop back up with no explanation at all, as if nothing ever happened. He’s not secretive about his work necessarily, but the last thing he wants is you getting involved. In his mind, it’s better to keep you in the dark. He’ll be sure to spend plenty of time with you when he gets back, but you’ll never really know when he’s going to disappear again.

Caleb

Controlling

He can’t help it. It comes from a place of love, it really does, but he has a hand in every part of your life. He’s always tracking your location, monitoring who you’re spending time with or talking to, or behaving like a helicopter parent with a troublesome kid. Sometimes, he’ll change your schedule or delete something from your phone without your permission or knowledge, but in his mind, he’s only trying to protect you. Even when he’s away for work, he’s somehow able to be present in every aspect of your life. He knows you’re capable of taking care of yourself, but why would he let you when he can easily do it for you?

[loveanddeepthroat]

Hiii :3 not sure if you take requests for the other lads boys, but I love the way youu write and wondered if we could get some Zayne fluff 👉🏽👈🏽 Maybe like start of a relationship and mc gets her period unexpectedly when staying at his and gets super insecure about it and tries to go home but Zayne is concerned about her suddenly wanting to leave and finally gets the reason out of her, but he’s just super helpful and eases her worries. Thank you, love your blog!

The Bare Minimum

Pairing - Zayne x f!MC

Summary - You feel as though your world is ending when a day dedicated to some much needed time with Zayne is ruined by Mother Nature. You're desperate to get home without him noticing, but he was more prepared for this than you expected.

Word Count - 2.7k

Warnings - Multiple mentions of periods and blood.

You weren’t sure what was suddenly bothering you, but you were certain that it was catching Zayne’s attention.

It was one of those extremely rare occasions where both of you had a completely free weekend. No hunting, no surgeries, no plans.

Perfection. 

You were both at the very peak of your designated lazy Saturday—squished together on the recliner chair in his living room, eating takeout and watching the kind of TV shows that didn’t require too much attention. Between your impromptu make out sessions that consistently progressed into you straddling his legs, you weren’t even sure what was playing on the television. 

You were just happy to be with him in such an unusual setting for the both of you. A typical day where you were both blessed with synced schedules would be spent outdoors. Long, scenic walks. Trips to the library to pick up and return a few books. You dragging Zayne around the local mall against his will.

Neither of you were up for any of it this weekend. Your missions for the past few weeks had been exhausting, a few ending in swift trips to Akso for wounds that had looked worse than they had felt. Between Zayne’s concern for you and the demanding nature of his own job, he was feeling rather exhausted, too. He didn’t often indulge in lazy days, but you were pretty sure he just wanted to keep you cocooned in the safety of his home after seeing you injured one too many times.

After your fifth rather raunchy performance on his lap, you were feeling oddly uncomfortable. You put it down to aches and pains due to the exertion of your body recently, but even as you settled back beside him again, tucked under his heavy arm, you could feel the sensation creeping down your thighs and across your back.

It couldn’t possibly be that dreaded time of the month. You had another five days to go before you had to come up with reasons to not stay at his place for a week. Your relationship was still fresh and new, so you weren’t comfortable with the idea of being on your period whilst staying the night. There wasn’t a clear reason why you’d be so conscious about it, it wasn’t as if Zayne would chastise you for your womanly troubles.

For you though, it just felt a little too nerve wracking. Discarding sanitary products in his bathroom wastebasket. The possibility of leaking whilst you’re blissfully unaware in the land of sleep. And the most horrifying of all;

Your cramps.

Mother Nature was never kind to you in the first 24 hours of your cycle. There were many a day and night where you couldn’t unfurl yourself from the foetal position you would so quickly find yourself in. Mood swings, hot flushes, and an need for all things sugary and sweet.

Zayne didn’t need to see that side of you yet. The poor man would wonder where the hell his girlfriend had disappeared to, and why there was an emotional, writhing mess clutching a XXL tub of mint chocolate chip to her chest in her place.

As the minutes went by, you felt all of the familiar warning signs. His arm around you had been soothing and sweet all day, but was starting to feel like a furnace on your skin. The unmistakable feeling of the devil himself twisting your uterus with his bare hands was becoming stronger, and your squirming was drawing attention.

“Would you like me to move?” Zayne finally asked, brows slightly furrowed in your direction.

You had to get away from him. More so, you had to get off of the recliner, worried that if you were bleeding, you might have bled through to it.

Shaking your head quickly, you pulled yourself up to your feet, subtly eyeing the thankfully pristine spot where your ass had been perched all day. “No, of course not,” you reassured with a synthetic smile. “Just have to use the bathroom.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but you quickly hurried away before he had the chance. There was no time to waste.

As soon as the lock on the bathroom door clicked, you rushed to check yourself. The sight of fresh blood on the stark white toilet paper made you want to cry immediately. Of all the times for you to get your period five days early, it had to be whilst you were at Zayne’s.

You were at a complete loss on what you could do. You didn’t have any sanitary towels to hand, and your light grey sweatpants had succumbed to a slight stain that he may have already seen.

If the ground opened up and swallowed you whole, it’d be a miracle.

Silent panic turned to tears of frustration. All you could do was wrap a wad of toilet paper around itself to act as a makeshift pad, and steer clear of Zayne. Thankfully, you hadn’t yet unpacked the gym bag you brought for the weekend, so swiftly grabbing it and legging it back to your own apartment should be easy enough.

You cleaned yourself up as best as you could and flushed away all evidence of your period, trying to compose yourself whilst you did. The sheer level of agony your cramps were already bestowing upon you had you almost doubling over at the sink as you splashed some cold water onto your face to rid yourself of your tears.

This had to be a nightmare.

A gentle tapping on the bathroom door almost startled a small scream out of you. Zayne’s soothing voice sounded from the hallway, “everything alright in there?”

Things were getting worse and worse by the damn minute. You couldn’t possibly get by him to retrieve your bag without him seeing your ridiculous tears and the evident pain you were in.

“Yeah,” you called out, your shaky voice betraying you.

He remained silent for a moment, clearly not convinced in the slightest. “What’s the matter?”

You weren’t getting away from this. He knew something was up, and he wasn’t going to let you suffer in silence. It wasn’t in his nature to just feign ignorance, especially when it came to your health or comfort.

“Nothing,” you called out again, hoping to whichever god was listening that he would just accept your answer.

Another bout of silence hung in the air, like he was trying to figure you out through a closed door. You were beginning to feel like a cornered animal, desperate for a route of escape.

You waited and waited for him to say something else, but you heard absolutely nothing. A small sigh of relief escaped you as you quietly opened the door, only to find him still standing there. You quickly tried to shut it again, but his foot took place in the small gap to stop you.

Not wanting to jam his foot, you gave up, folding your arms around yourself as if they were going to hide you. “I need to go home,” you say quietly, avoiding his gaze.

He nudged the door open with his socked foot, still saying nothing. You could feel him analysing you from head to toe. 

He was such a bloody doctor sometimes.

Eventually, he folded his own arms across his chest. “Why do you want to go home?”

“Need to go home,” you corrected, not wanting him to think that you didn’t want to spend the night with him. “I…I have to—”

He cut you off with an outstretched hand, waiting expectantly for you to take it. All you did was stare at it, confused by his intentions. 

Well, you also winced as Mother Nature gave you a swift boot to the abdomen.

“Can you come with me for a moment?” He asked in that gentle tone of his, eyes softening. “Please?”

You took his large hand with a small sigh, not seeing any other way out of this situation. Heat pooled in your cheeks in your sheer embarrassment. 

This wasn’t how your weekend together was supposed to go.

Zayne led you into the bedroom, letting go of your hand once you were both inside. Panic flashed in your mind as you couldn’t think of any reason why he would bring you into the bedroom.

“I really can’t—”

He turned away before you could finish your sentence, heading into the en-suite bathroom and reappearing with a small wicker basket.

You almost gasped at its contents as he approached you again.

Pads and tampons of every shape and size were nestled within, along with painkillers and heating pads for your back. You eyed multipacks of brand new, comfortable underwear in there, too, and some small plastic bags to dispose of your sanitary products.

You weren’t sure if it was just the beginnings of your expected emotional rollercoaster, or the innocent way he was holding it out to you, but you burst into very pathetic, blubbering tears. 

He quickly placed the basket down on the bed, holding your waist with his hands. “Don’t cry. I’m sorry, did I get the wrong—”

You quickly shook your head, dragging your forearm across your eyes to diminish your tears. “No. No, I’m sorry,” you reassured him. “I’m sorry. I just—did you buy all of that?”

“I did,” he said quietly, looking a tad bit sheepish. “I didn’t know which ones would be best for you, so I asked a female assistant—”

“You asked someone?” You were in disbelief. He’d gone to the store, looked like a lost sheep in the sanitary products aisle, and asked a clerk to help choose some options for you.

“I realise now that I should’ve asked you, instead.”

You shook your head again. “No, I’m not chastising you, Zayne. I’m…I’m hugely impressed—in awe, in fact.”

Zayne frowned at you, evidently puzzled. “Impressed? Is this not what a boyfriend typically does? I didn’t do anything special.”

Little did he know, he actually had. 

You were certain that you weren’t the only woman on the planet who had previously been made to feel inferior or shamed by others in regards to your period. 

There were so many instances where men—and even the occasional woman had mentioned it as a way of insult. Must be her time of the month. Time for someone to change their tampon. 

Once, you had accidentally pulled a pad out of your bag instead of your notepad in the middle headquarters, and every last one of your male colleagues avoided you for the remainder of the week. It was as if you were infected with a disease that would kill them.

Finding yourself standing before the exception was a shock to your system. A good shock. 

A real gentleman. 

You felt your eyes well up again. Tears of fear and worry had become tears of contentment. Finally, for once in your life, you were comfortable in the presence of a man during your cycle.

“I just wanted to make sure you had everything you needed here whenever you stay,” he explained further.

“I love you,” you simply whispered back, a small smile curling your lips.

He still looked thoroughly perplexed at your reaction, like this shouldn’t have been something that was happening to you for the first time. Like every other man you’d ever come across will have treated you the way he has.

“I love you, too,” he said, cupping your face with his large, gentle hand. “Were you really going to leave?”

You nodded guiltily, feeling a little silly about your initial freak out. Something had been healed within your soul by his nonexistent judgement of your cycle, and even if he didn’t understand it, you were so very lucky and grateful to have a man like him.

He brushed away some of the damp streaks on your cheek with his thumb. “I don’t want you to go, but if you want to—”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered back.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Good. We have more episodes of Love Hospital to watch.”

“I thought we were watching Police Passion?”

He blew out a short laugh before dropping a tender kiss to your smiling lips. It made your heart feel warm and full, a feeling you never wanted to let go of.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” he said before taking his leave.

You took the wicker basket of supplies into the en-suite, the smile on your face not wavering as you studied it. He’d even put a rather pricey bottle of body wash in there for you, the description on the label claiming that its contents would soothe and relax you with scents of chamomile and jasmine. 

Everything was so tidily placed inside, a true reflection on how much he actually cared about your needs. Even a single incorrect pack of sanitary towels kept somewhere in the bathroom would have been enough for you to know that you didn’t need to be uncomfortable with him, but he’d made an effort. 

A serious effort that he saw as the bare minimum.

After picking out the best suited candidate in the sea of pads and tampons, you got yourself showered and sorted into fresh pyjamas from your bag. The cramping in your stomach started to bother you as soon as you finished getting changed, so you fished around in the basket for the unopened box of ibuprofen and a heating pad for the seizing muscles in your back.

Once you’d emerged from the bedroom, Zayne was nowhere to be seen in the living room. The area around the recliner you had both been lounging in all day was cleared and tidy, not an empty takeout carton or half drunk cup of tea in sight.

Making your way into the kitchen for a glass of water, you found him steeping a mug of raspberry leaf tea to aid your cramping. You quietly grabbed a clean glass to fill with water, popping two capsules of ibuprofen into your hand to take.

Zayne glanced at the clock to memorise what time you were taking this dose, in case you required another later on. “How are you feeling?”

You smiled softly at him. Despite the storm of misery striking through your body, you still had a reason to smile.

“Happy,” you murmured sincerely. “Despite the devil himself tearing away at my insides.”

He offered a small smile of sympathy back, pulling the sopping teabag out of your mug of tea to discard it. “Do you need anything else? I can go out if there’s anything you want,” he offered sincerely, not at all troubled by the idea of you needing anything more from him.

Good lord did you love this man.

“Just you, please,” you requested, wanting nothing more than to just cuddle back up with him until the painkillers kicked in.

He obliged your request immediately, picking up the steaming mug of tea with one hand and slipping your hand into the other to lead you back out to the recliner. Before you could seat yourself in the little gap beside him, he gently pulled you onto his lap.

You couldn’t help the little flash of panic that shot through you at the thought of sitting on him during your period, but he clearly didn’t care. His hands just got straight to work with the heating pad, placing it where you needed it the most.

The rest of the evening was spent with Zayne giving you some luxuriously soothing back rubs to ease the pain—which had quickly been alleviated thanks to the ibuprofen and tea—followed by your regularly scheduled make out sessions whenever his hands started to wander. There wasn’t an ounce of bother in him whenever he turned you to straddle his lap, his all time favourite place to have you. 

He wasn’t bothered by anything when it came to taking care of you.

A/N: Thank you so much for sending in a request, anon! I adore Zayne so it was nice to have a prompt for my first oneshot for him. 🩵

[snowballseal]

Them as supernatural creatures (LaDS)

Summary: This is my take on what supernatural creature each guy would be. They're pretty long, and either a fic where reader discovers what they are or a domestic moment they share together.

Rafayel - kitsune

Zayne - vampire

Xavier - guardian angel

Sylus - demon

Word Count: all roughly 1500 words

Note: These honestly came out soooo much longer than I expected. I might add a fic for Caleb, cause honestly, I'm really warming up to him. What supernatural creature should he be?

I'll probably come back and edit later, so let me know if you catch any mistakes!

---

Rafayel / Kitsune

“Rafayel…” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“What?! They deserved it,” Rafayel defends himself as he flops down onto the couch. 

“That doesn’t mean you can screw with people whenever you want,” you chastise softly and sit next to him, “You’re supposed to keep your identity a secret.”

Rafayel gives you a pout. Letting out a dramatic huff, he falls over into your lap, stretching out lazily instead of giving you any kind of response. You bite back a laugh, his weight pressing you into the couch, effectively trapping you as he makes himself comfortable. It takes everything in you to not give in to his usual cute tactics, the concern gripping your chest not quite letting go.

“Seriously, Raffie, it could be dangerous,” you continue, worry seeping into your voice.

“It’s fiiine,” he sighs, ocean eyes glinting up at you with amusement, “You worry too much, cutie. You wouldn’t even know if I hadn’t told you.”

“Still-”

“Nope, no more worrying,” he cuts you off quickly, reaching up to pinch both your cheek with a teasing, cheshire grin, “Miss Bodyguard is off duty now. This spirit wants his girlfriend to cuddle with him.”

Swatting at his hands, you can feel a blush creeping up your neck. Sometimes it still surprises you how care-free he is, like nothing could ever touch him. Which maybe he’s right. And you know he’s never going to stop his antics. Still, you worry. It’s a part of your nature, wanting to protect people, especially the ones you love, especially him.

But Rafayel is persistent, coaxing you to relax with playful touches and banter. He knows exactly how to unwind you, and how to rile you up, every button, every nerve. You feel almost powerless to resist, to hold onto your lingering doubts. And it’s not even his powers, it’s just Rafayel, your Rafayel.

And of course you give in. With a weak sigh, you settle into the couch, your fingers finding their way into his curls to calm what’s left of your frazzled nerves. Rafayel hums, low and content, his eyes flickering shut as he arches up into your touch like a cat.

“Do you want to stop hiding your ears?” You ask quietly, something warm and tender winding through your ribs.

Rafayel lets out another low rumble, eyes opening a fraction to look up at you suspiciously, “You know, sometimes I wonder if you like my ears more than you like me. That wouldn’t be true, now would it, cutie?”

“Of course not,” you tease, ruffling his hair, “I just want you to be comfortable.”

“Mhm, sure.” A small smirk pulls at the corner of his lips, because of course he knows that you do truly love him for him, but the fox does love his games.

It’s almost unnoticeable, the way he dismisses his transformation magic. Every time you can’t help but watch, fully enraptured by the change. A pair of soft ears flicker up from his hair, as if they were simply hiding in his curls the whole time. And his tails. You blink, and suddenly they appear, fluffy and plush, the same color as his hair. They curl around you, as if seeking out your warmth, the same way Rafayel turns to nuzzle into your stomach. The spirit gives a happy rumble when you rub his ears, pressing impossibly closer.

“You have no idea how irritating it is to hide them all the time.” His voice comes out  muffled by your sweater, his ears flicking back before pressing to your fingers again. “I imagine it’s how you humans feel when you wear itchy clothes.”

“That doesn’t sound fun,” you agree, “I’m glad you don’t have to hide them around me anymore.”

“You’re the first human I’ve allowed to see my true form in a long time, ya know.”

Your heart flutters a little at that. It’s a fact you’re well aware of, and one you try to never take for granted. It had taken a long time for Rafayel to share this with you. 

Ever since you met in the park, you knew something was different about him. He was beautiful, after all. More beautiful than you thought a person could be. And there was always something about his smile, something that set you on edge but also drew you in. The mischievous glint in his eyes never wavering, the almost unnatural grace he moves with, even the way he talks, as if he remembers times long gone by.

It all clicked when he finally told you. When he showed you his true form. A fox spirit. Everything made complete sense, but also no sense at all in that moment. First, you couldn’t comprehend it. Wanderers, yes, those you could wrap your head around. Mystical fox spirits? No. No, that took a few days to really settle in.

Still, it was Rafayel. It was always Rafayel. And the moment he came to you after those few days of distance, tentative and quiet in a way you had never witnessed from the artist, you made your decision. 

A life without him wasn’t possible. Not for you. Not with how you had fallen in love with him.

“So, tell me again why you tricked those guys into thinking a bear was chasing them?” You ask, tone fond as you continue to rub the soft fur on his ears.

Rafayel huffs, rolling on his back to meet your gaze more easily. The swirling colors of his eyes gleam with that familiar mischief, his canines flashing sharply in a dangerous grin, “They were hunting for sport, so I showed them what it’s like to be hunted.”

He really is scary sometimes, you think to yourself, biting back a smile.

“I’m sure they’ll think twice about hunting in your woods again.”

“They better,” he snips, “If I catch them again I’ll send a real bear after them.”

“I’m sure the forest thinks you’re quite a good guardian, mister fox spirit,” you tease, ruffling his hair fondly.

Rafayel suddenly shifts, and in the blink of an eye he’s leaning over you, his arms braced against the couch on either side of your head. You freeze, eyes going wide as you look up at him, pulse racing in your ears. The fox spirit leans down, nose brushing yours, that same dangerous smile pulling at his lips.

“And what do you think, miss hunter?” He asks, breath warm against your lips.

A lump forms in your throat, making it hard to speak, to even breathe with him this close. And Rafayel can tell, his eyes narrowing with amusement. He lifts one hand, fingers tracing delicately along your cheek so you feel the faint edge of his claws.

“What? Fox got your tongue?” He all but taunts, leaning closer. His eyes slowly trail down to your lips, his grin widening. “I could show you what that really feels like if you want.”

…

Heat flares across your cheeks. You gape at him, shock mixing with embarrassment mixing with something you don’t want to admit to. Did he just say what you think he did?

Rafayel keeps his cool facade for only a few more seconds before he cracks, bursting into a fit of laughter. You stare at him, blinking wildly, brain slowly catching up with it all. And then you’re shoving him.

“Rafayel!” You squeak, and he only laughs harder, which in turn, makes you more flustered. “You’re such a- I can’t believe you! God, you’re insufferable.”

The artist catches your hands when you go to hit him again, his ocean eyes crinkling along the edges. Snickering softly, he leans down, pressing a kiss to your angry pout.

“Sorry, my bride,” he hums unapologetically against your lips, pressing a scattering of chaste kisses along your pink cheeks. “It felt like the best way to change the subject.”

“My lover is such a sadist,” you grumble, trying to turn away from him. It’s difficult to keep pouting when he showers you in such soft affection. “My poor heart can’t take this, you know.”

Rafayel cups your face, drawing you back to face him so he can press another kiss to your lips, this one tender and gentle and slow. And just like before, you’re powerless to resist him. Your fingers brush against his neck as you return the kiss, letting the warmth of his touch wash over you. Everything about him is so addicting, so enthralling, like you could get lost and never find your way out. It almost scares you, how much you’re willing to lose for this man.

Eventually Rafayel draws away, if only to let you catch your breath, still teasing you, “Now do you forgive me, cutie?”

“Hmm, I guess so,” you sigh, pretending to be appeased. Your fingers trail innocently up into his hair, until you’re close enough to give his fluffy ear a playful pinch. Rafayel squawks and pulls away, giving you the most dramatic look of betrayal. Grinning, you lean up and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, “Okay, now I definitely do.”

Rafayel whines, reaching up to rub his ear, “Who’s the sadist now?”

“Watch it, or I might just pull your tail.”

“Okay, okay, we’re even…Now can we cuddle?”

---

Zayne / Vampire

You’ve known Zayne practically your whole life. Well, all of your life that you can remember, at least. He’s always been something constant, if not distant at times. And while you never assumed you knew everything about the doctor, you thought you knew more than most.

That is, until you wander into his office one day to find him passed out on the floor.

“Zayne?” You freeze in the doorway to his office, eyes blowing wide. 

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t show a single sign of life. Fear sinks deep into your bones, wraps around your lungs like a noose. And then your legs are moving. Your shoes desperately try to grip the tile as you dash across the room, panic dulling the throb in your knees as you drop to the ground beside him.

Pulse. You need to check his pulse. And his breathing.

Hands shaking, you press your fingers below his jaw, only to inhale sharply at the shock of how cold his skin is. Like ice. Too cold. No one should be this cold. And you can’t find a pulse. You skim your fingers down his neck, looking, looking, but still nothing. 

Leaning over the still doctor, you press your ear to his chest and wait. Your lungs start to ache from how you desperately hold your breath, but it’s nothing compared to the terror gripping your heart. Because you hear nothing. Nothing at all.

You draw back, lips parting, ready to call out for someone, anyone.

Until a hand clamps firmly over your mouth.

A surprised scream escapes you, muffled by cold fingers, as you find yourself flipped, a hand holding the back of your head to prevent it from hitting the ground. Chest heaving, you draw a fist back, ready to fight back against your attacker, only to freeze when your eyes meet a pair of hazel ones.

Zayne.

Relief washes over you. Quickly followed by confusion. You quickly push his hand away, brow knitting together.

“What the hell, Zayne?” You bark, pushing yourself onto your elbows.

The doctor quickly backs away, resting back on his haunches. You take a moment to look him over, worry still clinging to your bones. He’s pale, somehow more pale than usual at least. Dark shadows rest under his eyes, which appear almost bleary as he gazes back at you. He looks exhausted. 

Dead, even.

“You weren’t breathing,” you whisper, getting to your knees so you can check his temperature again. “Your heart wasn’t beating. I checked. What happened? How are you awake right now?”

Zayne grimaces, flinching away from your touch, and you freeze.

A deafening silence fills the office. It’s an odd stand-off, you staring him down, confusion burning behind your gaze, while he does everything he can to avoid it. For a split second, though, you see something you’ve never seen in the doctor. Uncertainty.

“Zayne?” You call again, voice going soft, “Talk to me. Please.”

Zayne hesitates, seemingly debating in his head before he speaks, his voice a low rasp, “I apologize for scaring you. That must have been startling to walk in on.”

“I’m fine,” you dismiss, slowly making your way closer to him, “I’m more concerned about you right now. You were dead. At least, I thought you were. So what happened?”

Another beat of silence.

“I must have lost consciousness from exhaustion. I haven’t slept much the past few days,” he tries, but even to your ears, it sounds like a weak excuse.

“Zayne, your heart wasn’t beating. You-” You press a hand to his chest, perhaps to prove a point, perhaps to knock some sense into him. To do something.

Except his heart still isn’t beating.

You're paralyzed. Eyes locked on his chest. Confusion creeps over you, like tendrils of ice spreading through your chest. Sharp. Suffocating. This isn’t right. This can’t be real. It can’t.

Zayne lets out another sigh, this one resigned and tired. Like he’s finally given up. His cold fingers gently cover yours. He draws your hand away from his chest, though he never lets go of it.

“I suppose there’s no hiding it anymore,” he murmurs, voice stiff, like how he speaks when he’s working. “Come, let’s sit on the couch. I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable there.”

You don’t say a word as he helps you to your feet. You can’t. Your tongue feels like a dead weight in your mouth. And even if you could talk, you don’t know what you would say. A million questions rush through your head, so blurred that you can’t pick out a single one, except-

“What are you?”

It echoes in your head raucously as you take a tentative seat on the couch. Zayne’s lips press into a tight line, and he clears his throat.

“That depends. There are many names for my condition.” His leg bounces ever so slightly as he continues, eyes still not meeting yours. “Though I suppose the most common term is vampirism.”

Vampirism.

You blink. 

And blink and blink.

Vampire. He’s a vampire.

A vampire?

“Those aren’t real,” you immediately breathe out, mind racing.

A humorless smile pulls at the doctor’s lips, “I assure you, it is. I’ve suffered from the symptoms for as long as I can remember.”

A vampire. He’s a vampire. Your childhood best friend is a vampire.

“How did I not notice?” You all but squeak, examining him with this new information. 

Sure, he’s pale, but Zayne’s always been pale. And it’s not like he avoids the sun. Aren’t vampires supposed to be weak to the sun or something? Plus, he’s aging, isn’t he? A million new questions race through your mind.

“Wait, do you have fangs?!”

Before you can stop yourself, you’re touching his face, basically making him open his mouth. Zayne startles, brow raising at your brazenness, but he does nothing to stop you. At first, his teeth look normal, the only thing worth noting being the excellent care he’s given them. But then you notice it. His canines seem to sharpen, just a touch longer than they should be.

And that’s all the proof you need.

“You’re a vampire,” you breathe, fingers settling along his jaw.

Zayne watches you carefully, waiting for some kind of reaction. Horror. Fear. Anger. All of those would be appropriate. But you don’t show any of them. Instead, you look at him with a mixture of disbelief and…curiosity? 

Brow knitting together, Zayne reaches up to touch your wrist, just to check your pulse to make sure you haven’t gone into some sort of shock. Your pulse is steady though, if not a little accelerated.

“You’re not…frightened? Of me?” He asks slowly, confusion gleaming in the depths of his eyes.

You shake your head, a smile threatening to break out across your features, “No, Zayne, I’m not scared of you. I probably should be, but hey, I fight wanderers for a living. Do I have a lot of questions? Yes. But if you’ve really been like this since we were young, that means you’re not going to suddenly do something to me now, right?”

Your lack of concern should be worrying, but Zayne finds the tension is his shoulders slowly dripping away. Of course you would surprise him like this. You’ve always been too trusting, in his opinion, though he’s not about to correct you now.

“So, do you drink blood? I’m guessing you don’t hurt people, considering how strictly you follow your oath.” Head tilting, you give him a questioning look, eyes wide and almost innocent in their curiosity. “So where do you get it from? Blood bags? I’ve read that in a few books. Or animals? I’ve read that, too. How accurate are all those stories?”

“I could answer your questions if you slow down,” Zayne murmurs, fighting an amused smile. “I assure you, we have plenty of time.”

You flush, biting off the rest of your questions. Right. You’re not really giving him an opportunity to answer, are you? So where do you start?

“What is your first question?” The doctor prompts, thumb brushing calmly over your pulse.

“Hmm. The blood question. Do you have to drink it?”

“Yes,” he answers, though his voice rings with distaste, “I have to consume some form of blood every few months to keep my senses about me. I’ve perhaps waited too long this time.”

“Do you need some right now?” You press, brow furrowing.

Zayne hesitates. His lips pinch together again, a sign you recognize.

“No.”

“Liar. That’s why you passed out,” you accuse, though you keep your voice somewhat gentle.

He says nothing for a long moment, a mixture of guilt and discomfort crossing his features. Sighing softly, you give his cheek a light pinch.

“Zaaayne.”

“I’ve tolerated longer periods than this between feedings,” he murmurs, trying to sound dismissive, though you can hear the exhaustion creeping back into his voice, “My body must simply be enduring higher levels of stress due to the season. As long as I rest more, I’ll be fine until my next supply arrives.”

“Oooor,” you hum, hesitating only a moment before you offer, “You can draw some of my blood. Just enough to get you through till then. We know it’s clean since you always run so many tests on it, so that shouldn’t be a concern right?”

Zayne blinks in surprise. Even if you were taking this all well, he certainly wasn’t expecting you to make such an offer. But you meet his gaze, unwavering, expectant, mind already made up.

If his heart were beating, he’s sure it would stutter.

While he hates his condition, hates what he has to do to appease it, he can’t deny that the smell of your blood has always been tempting to him. Cloyingly sweet, like the sweetest dessert. 

He should say no. He should just endure, as he always has. 

But the determination in your eyes makes him waver. And Zayne is a weak man when it comes to anything related to you.

“It’s not advisable…” He starts, jaw tightening.

You perk up, not actually expecting him to consider it. It was a crazy idea after all, but you want to help. You hate the idea of him suffering by choice when you can do something about it.

 “But…?”

“But I am not completely opposed to the idea,” he concedes, almost looking ashamed.

“Good,” you chirp, a smile lighting up your face as you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Then let’s get to work, doctor.”

God, you would be the death of him.

Well, if he were fully alive, that is.

---

Xavier / Angel

“How is it that you seem to find danger wherever you go?” Xavier murmurs, voice as even as ever, yet cradling a hint of exasperation.

Biting back a smile, you keep your attention focused on his fingers. They work with a practiced precision to bandage the laceration on your arm, adept from the years of dressing your wounds. It has become a near weekly occurrence because of your work. Getting hurt is an unfortunate side effect of being a hunter.

“Maybe I wouldn’t be so reckless if I didn’t have such a sweet angel to take care of me afterwards,” you hum, tone bordering on teasing.

Xavier’s ears flush a soft pink, his wings ruffling in some kind of indignation, which only makes your smile stretch wider. He’s always so easy to fluster, and his wings give him away every time. It makes you want to tease him even more, but when you go to do exactly that, all that escapes you is a low hiss when he swipes a pad of alcohol across another of your cuts.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, his thumb brushing tenderly along your knuckles.

“S’okay,” you sigh, taking a deep breath, “Just stings. I hate the shallow ones more than the actual cuts, you know?”

Xavier gives a low hum, neither agreeing or disagreeing. You’re sure he would prefer you avoid all physical injury, but that is an argument the angel lost a long time ago, not long after you first met. And what a day that was.

Xavier came into your life in a flash of light. Literally.

You remember the day with quite a bit fondness despite how horrible it was. Everything had gone wrong that day. Exams were kicking your butt, as was training for the Association. To say you were down in the dumps was an understatement, which is why you had been out in the woods, trying to enjoy a bit of silence. 

That is, of course, when a wanderer decided to appear.

You did your best to handle it, but you were still just in training at the time, and it was clear you were outmatched. Things would have taken a turn for the worse if Xavier hadn’t shown up.

All you really remember is seeing a blinding light, almost like a flashbang, and then there he was. Ethereal, face set with stone-cold focus, hair silvery white like a star, but most striking were the large wings stretching from his shoulders, impossibly white, the edge of each feather glinting like a knife. With a flourish of his sword, he clashed with the wanderer, killing it in seconds.

In that moment, you were convinced you were dead. That made a lot more sense than what you were seeing, after all - an angel. Sure, he didn’t have the halo, but what else could he be? And how could you be seeing an angel if you weren’t dead?

It took him kneeling down in front of you, eyes sharp with concern as he scanned your entire body for injuries, for you to realize you were, in fact, not dead. And that’s when the questions started.

“Who are you?”

“What are you?

“Where did you come from?”

Xavier being Xavier, he danced around each answer. And you being you, you didn’t relent until you got the answers you wanted.

Not only is he an angel, he’s a guardian angel, and you’ve become his charge. And since he revealed himself to you, he can’t go back to his realm without getting in serious trouble.

That’s how you ended up here, with an angel as your roommate. What else were you supposed to do with him? The man was like a lost puppy with wings. Sure, he can take down a wanderer like it’s nothing, but ask him to work a toaster and he’ll sit there for about an hour just staring at the thing. You couldn’t leave him to fend for himself.

And it was the best decision of your life, really. Not only has he become your best friend, but maybe something more.

“I do wish you would stop putting yourself in unnecessary danger,” Xavier rumbles suddenly, pouting a little bit as he examines your now bandaged hand.

“It’s not unnecessary,” you chime softly, slipping your hand from his to poke his cheek playfully. Satisfaction curls in your chest at the blush that spreads across his beautiful features, his pout only growing cuter. “If I don’t put myself in danger, then other people will, and then innocent people can get hurt.”

“Being so selfless could get you killed,” he sighs, rising to his feet, wings flaring behind him.

Your eyes follow him, steady and warm, head craning up to hold his gaze, “I’m perfectly capable of staying alive, Xavier. And if I’m ever in trouble, I know you’ll be there to help me.”

The angel huffs. You’re not wrong, as much as he’d like to argue. What was once just a job to him, a responsibility, is now something more, something carved deep into his soul. Every fiber of his being longs to keep you safe, even if it means breaking every rule he once followed. Even if it means he must fall some day.

Ignoring that thought, Xavier settles onto the bed next to you, letting out a heavy sigh as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. His hair brushes your neck, soft and ticklish, drawing a light giggle from you as you curl your arms around his shoulders.

“You really shouldn’t worry so much, starlight.”

“You make it incredibly difficult not to,” he grumbles, voice low and muffled, “I just want to keep you safe…”

“Hmm, such a sweet angel,” you hum and card your fingers through the feathers at the base of his wings.

Xavier holds back a shiver, his body arching into your delicate touch. His wings have always been sensitive, especially when you’re the one touching them. You don’t miss the way his blush spreads down his neck, or the way his wings instinctively curl around you, as if they can block out the rest of the world, as if to make a space just for the two of you. The smile that pulls at your lips is overwhelmingly fond, just like your touch.

You love the feeling of his feathers under your fingers. At first glance, they look almost sharp, but they’re surprisingly soft, downy and warm to the touch. Without thinking, you trail your fingers along the curve of his wing and fix any out of place feathers with the utmost of care. Xavier lets out another, shaky sigh, his eyes flickering shut.

It’s a soft moment. Everything else is muted, the only sound being that of your steady breath and his lazy, content hums. Xavier nuzzles even closer to you, his body impossibly warm, his weight too much for you to support. A giggle escapes you as you lean back onto the bed, the angel settling on top of you without an ounce of shame in his expression.

“I swear, sometimes I wonder if you’re actually a cat disguised as an angel, “ you tease, reaching up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing the corner of his lips. He leans into your palm without hesitation.

“Being a cat wouldn’t be so bad,” he murmurs, as if he’s given the idea some thought before. “I’d get to sleep all day and eat whenever I want instead of chasing a certain, reckless hunter around.”

He nips at your finger lightly, but your smile doesn’t waver.

“I think you’d get bored eventually.”

“Is that so?”

“Yah. I think you enjoy chasing me around, you just don’t want to admit it,” you chirp, tilting your head innocently, “And you’d miss me horribly, don’t you think?”

Xavier hums, turning his face to nuzzle into your palm. His lips brush your skin, a whisper of some kind of promise, making your heart flutter unevenly.

“I suppose I would…and would you miss me?” His eyes flicker back to you, narrowed, an undeniable spark of affection kindled in their blue depths.

You both know the answer.

“I’d miss you more than anything, angel.” Leaning forward, you press a kiss to his cheek. “I can’t imagine life without you.”

A hint of a smile tugs at his lips. “Then, I guess I’ll have to stay by your side.”

“You better.”

“Of course, my lady.”

---

Sylus / Demon

“What does your real form look like?”

You perch on the edge of his bed, feet kicking in the air as you watch Sylus get ready for whatever meeting he’s about to go to. Something to do with one of the other head crime bosses in the N109 Zone, you’re sure. One certainly down on their luck and looking to make a deal.

Sylus glances at you through the mirror, long fingers slowing as he fixes his cufflinks. His eyes bore into you, glinting with something violent, something vicious and bloody that should unsettle you to your core, but you don’t flinch, you don’t even blink.

Such a brave kitten, the demon thinks, amusement curling his lips.

“Curious, sweetie?”

The smile he gives you is sharp, too sharp, and your skin prickles with an instinctive kind of unease. It’s something you’ve grown used to, the way your body reacts to him. Like a lamb cornered by a wolf, everything screaming at you to run, yet you chose to stay cornered. Choose to trust the teeth pressing so gently to your throat, violence and desire so perfectly restrained to keep you safe.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you chime, head tilting ever so slightly. “I just…want to understand you better, you know?”

Sylus hums and turns his focus back to straightening his cuffs, “Is that so? Aren’t you scared of what I might look like?”

“No.” Your answer is quick, unwavering, and Sylus perks a brow.

A brave kitten indeed. He’s almost impressed. The rumors about him are none too kind, and yet here you are, seeking the truth. Without knowing what the truth means.

Giving himself one last look in the mirror, the demon turns to you. He studies you for a long moment, gaze dark, pensive, intense in a way that makes your breath hitch. His eyes darken, something predatory glinting in their cardinal depths. You look at him so innocently, as if you’re not staring down the devil himself, as if you know he’d never hurt you. It makes him want to ruin you, to see that pretty blush stain your skin all over, just to curb the morbid desire burning in his chest.

But you are right, he’d never hurt you. You’re too pure, too good. So he lets himself be soft, to the best of his ability at least.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors,” he murmurs eventually.

His shoes barely make a noise as he slowly approaches you. Each step is measured, confident, like he always is, and each step makes your heart flutter a little more. You’re all but holding your breath as Sylus comes to stand in front of you. His fingers, calloused and rough from a life of violence, graze your jaw so tenderly, drawing your face up to his.

“Are you sure you can handle it, sweetie?” He asks, voice almost taunting, though his features remain soft, unassuming.

Still unwavering in your decision, you nod, “I want to know you, Sylus. All of you.”

He holds your gaze for another long moment, as if he’s trying to read your soul. Which he very well could be, you realize. But when you look into his eyes, what you see isn’t his usual smug composure. Instead, you see a flicker in hesitation. Uncertainty. And it makes your heart ache.

Lifting a hand, you carefully cover the one Sylus holds against your cheek. You lean into the warmth of his touch, a gentle smile pulling at your lips, “You won’t scare me away, Sylus. I promise.”

So perceptive. Sylus gives a low chuckle, shaking his head, “You really aren’t like most humans, sweetheart. Most wouldn’t want to know me even in this form.”

“Well that’s their loss,” you hum, eyes crinkling up at him, “But that means I get you all to myself, so I can’t feel too bad for them.”

“My, what a selfish little kitten I have.” His thumb brushes lovingly over your cheek as his expression turns more serious. “If you want to see my true form, all you have to do is ask. Your desires are mine to fulfill, and I will do so with pleasure.”

“I want to see it, Sylus,” you repeat, “I want to see you.”

“Alright.” He draws back, that wicked smile returning, “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you, kitten.”

You watch, enraptured, as he rolls his shoulders, tendrils of dark smoke curling around his body. It envelopes him completely and the air in the room grows tense, fizzling with a static that has the hair on your arms standing on end. The lights flicker, plunging the room in darkness for a split second.

And when they come back on, you have to swallow down a gasp.

Because there he is. You’re not sure exactly what you were expecting. You had heard the rumors, the whispers about the monster that haunts the N109 Zone, but this somehow seems different from everything you’ve heard.

Smoldering eyes, sharp and cat-like now, stare you down with an apprehensive gleam. A pair of dark horns curl from his silvery hair. Veins of the same color curl around his neck and down his forearms like webs, the skin of his hands bleeding pitch black. His fingers look more like claws, glinting dangerously in the dim light of the room. Your eyes catch on the tail waving behind him, the spade-tip just as sharp. And the wings. They unfurl slightly, ink-like feathers brushing the floor.

What’s most shocking though, is his size. He stands almost a foot taller, his already imposing stature now threatening. The air shivers around his form, and you can feel that familiar, foreboding sensation creeping up your spine.

But the only thought running through your head is that he’s beautiful. Beautiful like a storm. Devastating and destructive, yet you can’t tear your eyes away. And you just want to be closer.

“Are you scared, kitten?” His voice rumbles with an almost imperceptible dissonance, a hint of concern beneath his tone.

You blink, gaze snapping back up to his, “No, of course not, Sy.”

The tension seems to fall away from his shoulders at that, but he still doesn’t dare move, like he’s still worried you might run away. So you, in a bout of confidence, push off the bed and walk right up to him. Sylus watches you carefully, expression reserved. 

“Can I?” You ask, keeping your tone soft as you brush your fingers against the back of his hand. You look up at him questioningly, and Sylus relents, allowing you to take his hand in yours. Your touch is unbearably soft and curious, trailing along the dark tendrils marking his skin. “Does any of it hurt? To change, I mean. Are you comfortable in this form?”

“I used to spend more time in this form,” he hums, tail flicking back and forth, “but to do business in the N109 Zone, one must be able to live in the shadows without being noticed. This form did not benefit me, so I took the form of a human to…blend in, one might say. Humans are more willing to make a deal when they believe they’re on equal ground.”

“That makes sense, but it didn’t answer my question.” You pout, tapping his hand. “Does it hurt to switch between the two?”

A small grin pulls at Sylus’ lips, revealing a sharp set of fangs, his eyes narrowing in amusement, “No, sweetie, it doesn’t.”

“Good.” You nod and brush your thumb over his knuckles. “Then I want you to take whatever form you’re more comfortable in when it’s just the two of you.”

Surprise flickers across his face, barely noticeable, but you catch it. Sylus covers it up quickly, his smile turning mischievous, “I didn’t expect you to be so comfortable with this. Does my kitten have a soft spot for monsters?”

“Maybe,” you hum, stretching up to curl your hands around his neck despite how much taller he is than you now. 

Sylus relents once more, leaning down so you don’t have to balance on the tips of your toes, even though he finds it quite cute. His hands rest tentatively against your waist, his fingers nearly interlinking at the small of your back. The size difference makes you bite the inside of your cheek, heat creeping up your neck.

Pushing the thought away, you lean up and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, humming happily, “You’re not a monster, though. I think you actually look quite…charming like this.”

The demon huffs out a laugh, his forehead coming to rest against yours, “Whatever you say, sweetheart. I’ll be whatever you want, as long as it makes you happy.”

“You make me happy, Sylus.”

“Well then, I suppose this arrangement will benefit us both greatly.”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips, “I suppose it will.”

---

I felt most of my choices were pretty expected, but let me know if you guys think they'd be other supernatural creatures! And Happy almost Halloween!

[kinda-indecisive]

.⋅ ˚̣✧ :–⭒  Lingering Affections pt. II⭒–:✧ ˚̣⋅ .

How I imagine the guys would react to you (MC) surprising them with a kiss that lingers a bit longer than expected. Caleb's was a little more angsty than I meant, but he's just so angst-coded!

Part 2: The Zayne, Sylus and Caleb Edition! 

:✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧:

Zayne 

Continuing to pout, you hold on as he rolls your office chair toward him.

“Don’t be a meanie,” you sulk, as if the doctor had personally offended you and not the random cat from the video you two had been watching.

“I was hardly being a ‘meanie’ and merely stated a fact. That cat couldn’t manage the jump onto the counter because it was too fat,” he reiterates. You continue to keep your back to him and he chuckles, pushing your hair away from your neck and laying his chin on your shoulder, “But I never said it wasn’t cute.”

You snort, then laugh, eagerly reaching back. You feel the corner of his mouth raise in a soft smile as he presses his cheek to your palm.

His voice is a hum when he speaks, “Thank you for today’s lunch.”

“You deserve it.”

The statement is obvious whether you’re taking today’s actions into account or not. Zayne is a paragon of everything a doctor should be. 

Today’s example? He had to postpone your original lunch plans because of a new patient of his. The man had undergone a big procedure and Zayne didn’t want to leave the hospital in case there was an emergency or if there was something else that prevented the patient from getting adjusted while he was out.

Hearing his reason for canceling, you decided to bring lunch to him, happy to spend any time with him, even if it meant he’d be called away at any minute.

As fate would have it, the patient is well and Zayne wasn’t needed, therefore you two have been able to enjoy an entire lunch together, giggling over silly videos on your phone and chatting about the trip you are planning for next month when things are supposed to be little less busy at the hospital.

You’re in such a good mood, you don’t even mind that the end of his lunch break is looming ever nearer.

The casual thought makes you check the time and Zayne tenses in surprise when you shoot up straight in your chair.

“Is everything alright?” he inquires, concern lacing his voice as he watches you stand.

“I’m late! I didn’t realize your lunch break was over. I told Jenna I’d have that report in before 4 and I’m not exactly close to finishing it,” you frown, wondering what compelled you to empty nearly all the contents of your bag in Zayne’s office during your visit.

While helping you get yourself in order, he offers, “I’m sure there’s a computer here in the hospital you could use. Even mine, if it’s that important.”

“I would, but I left the paperwork related to the report on my desk back at the Association. I wouldn’t be able to complete it without referencing it and I can’t reference it if I don’t have it on me.” 

“I would offer to drive you--” he begins and you cut him off, touching his forearm.

“You have work to do,” you reassure, “I promise, I’ll be fine.”

“Let me call you a cab,” he suggests, “Otherwise you’ll be exhausted from running back to the Association and pass out at your desk before getting anything done.”

You accept his offer only because he has a point. You begin to open the door before suddenly turning on your heel. Zayne has his phone in hand and stops abruptly, having intended to escort you out. 

“Is there something else?” he asks, a small frown between his eyebrows.

You stand on your toes to kiss his cheek, then quickly change your mind to find his lips instead.

He is by no means a stranger to your kisses these days, but the suddenness of this one takes him by surprise and he tenses for a split second before sighing softly and hooking a finger under your chin, his other arm closing around your waist as he draws you closer.

When you two part, he looks at you with those piercing eyes turned soft from your lingering affections.

“What was that for?” he asks, his voice only slightly teasing.

“I enjoyed our date today, Dr. Zayne.”

“Well… I’m glad.”

Sylus 

:✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧:

This is supposed to be a quick trip. Your role is to attend the auction like normal while Sylus shakes down some big, bad bosses upstairs using intimidation tactics that only he is capable of. It’s a typical mission you’ve done with Sylus over a hundred times now. However, from the second you arrived at today’s auction, you found yourself growing more and more agitated.

You’re used to the looks of others as you and Sylus walk together. A man with his presence is hard to miss; not to mention that he just so happens to be one of, if not the most attractive men anyone here has ever seen in their entire lives. So of course people are going to look. But that doesn’t explain why it’s really getting on your nerves today.

“You’ve gone quiet on me. Is everything alright?” Sylus asks, that teasing tone in his voice, though he fails to hide the gentle concern in his eyes.

“Everything’s fine, Sy,” you reassure, then gesture toward the crowd, “Didn’t you say I’d be handling things down here at the auction while you took care of business upstairs?”

You stop walking and turn to look up at him. At the corner of your eye, you register movement and, for the faintest of seconds, you make eye contact with one of the women who has been watching Sylus with a keen interest. As a matter of fact, this woman had been outside on the balcony when the two of you arrived and must have come in intending to intercept and introduce herself.

Or it could be a coincidence.

When her eyes land on Sylus again, seeming to appraise the width of his aggravatingly broad shoulders, you are certain it’s no mere coincidence.

“...again. Are you certain you’re up to doing this tonight?” he asks with a deep frown and you realize you had accidentally blocked out what he was saying. It’s not hard to guess, though.

“I’m perfectly alright,” you insist, “You go. We’ll do everything as planned and then go home, right?”

You feel a little guilty for the way he looks at you right now, concern etched into the corners of his deep, crimson eyes. After a long moment, he sighs.

“Alright, we’ll stick to the plan,” he says, thoughtlessly brushing off jacket sleeve, “Though you’ll tell me instantly if something’s wrong.”

It’s a command, not a suggestion, and you nod with an innocent smile.

He regards you for another second before leaning down and pressing a quick, departing kiss on your cheek.

This is your chance! Seeing the silhouette of the same woman looming ever nearer, you drape your arms around his shoulders before he straightens up and bring your lips to his.

Warmth fills you from head to toe and you feel his heavy hand hesitate for no more than a second before landing delicately against your waist.

You linger, but not too long. Just enough, however, to feel his shoulders soften beneath your forearms.

When you lean back, he opens his eyes, looking at you through heavy lids that make your stomach flip. After a second of collecting himself, he speaks, his voice coming from even deeper in his chest than usual. 

“Now I know for certain that you’re up to something…” he purrs.

Still a little warm in the face yourself, you admit in a small voice, “She wouldn’t take her eyes off you. Or didn’t you notice?”

His eyebrows raise ever so slightly, the concern disappearing from his features instantly, only to be replaced by his usual humored, smug little smile.

“Who is there to notice, sweetie? You’re the only other person who exists in the entire Universe,” he hums, bringing his fingertips to the side of your face with feather-light touches, “Although…”

“Although…?” you question, putting a gentle warning in your voice that he acknowledges with a soft chuckle.

“Although I like the idea of you staking your claim on what’s yours, kitten,” he says, straightening up as you watch the woman turn away as if she’d merely taken the wrong turn, “And I like the idea of being indisputably yours.”

Caleb 

:✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧:

Caleb was leaving again. It was something you were starting to get used to. He’ll come down from Skyhaven for a day or two, sometimes a week if you were lucky, then take off again for weeks at a time. You know it could be worse; you survived the worst of the worst after the incident, and you always try to remind yourself of that.

You remind yourself, also, that you can always get a response from him when he’s in Skyhaven. That, knowing him, even if he were in the far-out depths of the Deepspace Tunnel he would do everything in his power to find a way to get a message out to you if he needed to.

This still doesn’t make his departures any easier.

He has no doubt noticed your silence. It would be hard not to, even if he weren’t eternally hyper-observant toward your every discomfort. And crammed into the back seat of the cab together you’re certain he feels it.

And it’s not like you’re angry at him. You had a great time with him this week. Every day after work he was there to pick you up from the Association with a ready smile and plans for your evening. Always guessing exactly when you were too exhausted to go out and already having a backup plan of a homecooked meal and a silly movie from your childhood lined up.

You two went shopping for groceries together, met up with friends, and even managed to get a private viewing of young Caleb’s favorite aviation exhibit at the museum after it closed for the day.

This week was perfect.

Maybe that’s why you’re feeling so frustrated right now. You don’t want to give him up to the stupid fleet and the others in Skyhaven who you’re 100% certain he cannot fully trust even 50% of and that scares and annoys you. 

The cab comes to a stop and you get out, startling a little when Caleb clears his throat, “Got a lot on your mind?”

You blink, looking up at him. Then, “Oh… I’m fine.”

He continues to peer down at you, reaching out with the hand that isn’t carrying his suitcase to touch your cheek.

“That wasn’t very convincing at all.”

Sighing, you place your hand over his and lock his fingers between your own. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” you mumble and he grins even wider.

“Like what?” he asks, his voice oozing with that same annoying playfulness that has made you wanna tackle him to the ground for as long as you can remember, “Come on, let’s go inside. It’s chilly out here.”

Your fingers still intertwined, you allow him to guide you into the train station. The further into the area you go, the more you feel the urge to yank him to a stop. To whine and complain until he has to give in and stay in Linkon City for as long as you like.

You sigh at how childish the thought is and keep walking even when you hear the announcement of his train’s arrival in five minutes.

His brisk walk finally slows and he stops at a bench, gesturing for you to sit. You hesitate for a moment before shaking your head. He frowns, his head tilting as he tries to get a better look at your face.

“Are you mad at me?” he asks innocently.

“No,” you respond, stealing a quick glance at the arrival times one more time. Caleb catches the movement and looks over his shoulder, grimacing slightly at the numbers.

His entire body tenses when you suddenly hook an arm around his shoulders and yank him down toward you, your lips finding their target effortlessly as you kiss him as deeply as you dare in public.

His eyes are as wide as saucers when you part, his guard completely faltering and crumbling before you. He tries to play it off, however, chuckling, “Geez, pip-squeak. Your training at the Hunter Association has paid off. You could have folded me in half with that move.”

Unable to resist a giggle, you bury your face in his chest, murmuring, “I know you know how to watch your back, Caleb. But… be extra careful out there. For me?”

“Of course,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head, his voice suddenly full of emotion as he realizes what’s been eating you up all morning, “You’re my reason for everything, you know that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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MY LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MASTERLIST

[meguwumibear]

Three Little Words

After 48 hours of radio silence, Zayne decides to pay you a visit.

TW: omegaverse (alpha!zayne and omega!reader), brief oral (f) receiving, brief fingering, unprotected piv sex, knotting, minor scent kinkiness

You’re ignoring him.

You are.

In fact, you’ve been ignoring him for a whopping forty-eight whole hours. The two-digit number seems absurdly large to him—there are, after all, nearly nine-thousand hours in a year—but reminding himself of the scale does little to dispel the budding anxiety that begun to eat away at him after the first twenty-four.

It’s not like he expects you to answer all his calls or respond to all his texts. Zayne understands that you’re probably busy, that your dangerous work keeps you from your phone and that your needy friends often siphon away the remainder of your energy forcing you to party with them. His rational mind can think of ten, twenty, thirty different reasons why you haven’t responded to any of his texts, but his emotional mind—the mind in which he cages his alpha—ignores them all.

Two days without so much as a peep from you simply is unusual. It just isn't like you to leave him on delivered or send him straight to voicemail. Typically, when conversation begins to lull—he’s never been particularly good at carrying one—you often bombard him with lines of emojis he must decode like hieroglyphics just to drag out the exchange.

Though he knows he should let sleeping dogs lie, accept—like any rational man would—that sometimes texts go unanswered, especially texts punctuated with curt, dark periods instead of the welcoming curve of a question mark, he cannot. He doesn’t understand what he did to drive this wedge between him and you, but he is determined to remove it.

He spends the drive to your place convincing himself his visit is purely clinical; once he confirms your radio silence is a result of acute emotional distress and not life ending injury, he’ll leave you alone to sulk. Though he’s certain he is easily the best receptacle for your anger or anxiety or whatever it is you may be feeling, he will allow you to process the emotion however you deem necessary, even if that means ignoring him.

The sharp sound of his knuckles rasping against your sturdy doorframe echoes loudly around the abandoned hallway, disturbing the precarious peace. Zayne takes deep, steadying breaths as he waits for you to answer, hoping his concern hasn’t etched itself into his flesh or colored his skin.

It takes longer than it should for you to respond to the knock, and it soon becomes clear why. The door creaks open barely a fraction of an inch, but he can smell the silken honey of your heat laden scent anyway. The thick, heady odor sticks to your dewy skin.

Your bloodshot eyes widen in surprise when you see him, and Zayne’s sensitive nose doesn’t miss the way your scent changes as your, no doubt, foggy mind registers that an unclaimed alpha now stands before you, willing—maybe—but definitely able to provide you with a much needed knot. It sours briefly, before transforming into something down right syrupy sweet.

“Zayne,” you whimper, and oh how he’s always loved the sound of his name in your mouth, how the ‘z’ vibrates between your teeth, how the ‘aye’ sits in the back of your pallet, how the ‘n’ so sonorously slips out between your slightly parted lips. “Sorry, I-”

You slowly blink at him through dark, matted lashes, lids heavy, pupils blown wide. Whatever it is you want to apologize for stays stuck in your throat. White teeth worry at chapped lips as your eyes slip from him. They fixate on the dark toes of his shoes.

“Let’s get you back inside,” he says, voice steadier than expected given the animalistic way his mind and body are responding to your debauched state. His pants, for example, feel a good deal tighter than they did when he first pulled them on this morning.

You don’t open the door to accommodate him, and—despite the urgings of his inner alpha—Zayne doesn’t bully his way inside. He is in control of himself, of the shaking hands that yearn to press a cool palm against your feverish forehead, of the restless legs that itch to close the distance between him and you. Even as saliva begins to well in his mouth as he takes in lungful after lungful of pure, unadulterated need, Zayne is in control.

“But,” you protest weakly, lithe fingers gripping the doorway for support, “I’m in heat.”

Yeah, he knows. He can smell you.

“I understand,” he replies, wishing for maybe the first time ever to rid himself of the adhesive patches that help keep his scent at bay. His covered glands itch as they strain against the dense medicinal covers, secreting what little soothing hormones the compact space allows. “I want to help.”

Your brows knit together as you digest what he’s shared. Then your lower lip begins to wobble and salty tears begin to streak steadily down your darkened cheeks as you let out an absolutely gut-wrenching sob.

Both Zayne and his alpha recoil at the raucous little hiccups that escape from your throat as you try unsuccessfully to choke back your cries. Wolfish instincts scream at him to comfort you, but he isn’t sure how to without crossing any of the carefully maintained boundaries that the relationship he has cultivated with you are built on.

Tentatively, he places his palm against the cold surface of your door and begins to gently push at the barrier, just hard enough for you to register his ask. You could stop the door from opening, if you really wanted. You could stop him from entering too. Instead, you take a cautious step back away from the entrance, and allow him to shoulder his way inside.

First things first: he makes his way over to your kitchen and fills a glass with water. Omegas in heat need to stay hydrated, but their hormone addled bodies sometimes forget to complete even the most basic activities of daily living in the pursuit of a knot. If he had to guess, you haven’t had anything to eat or drink in at least twenty-four hours.

Which is why he can’t understand why you eye the hydrating liquid so suspiciously. You need it. Your already sore muscles will cramp without it. Your head will begin to ache. Hydration is a basic part of tending to oneself in rut or heat, and you’re already on, what, day two?

“You need to drink,” he tells you, which, to his confusion, only makes you cry harder. Omegas are prone to crying spells during heats—especially when they are unable to fulfil their sexual needs—but the tears are usually a result of happiness and pleasure. Something must be terribly wrong if the thought of drinking water has brought you to tears. Like he said at the door, he wants to help you through this. He’s trying to take care of you. Can you really not understand that?

“’m okay,” you slur out between sobs. “Thank you for checking on me. You can go now.”

Zayne blinks at you as if clearing his vision will make clear for him why you’re in such emotional distress. He doesn’t doubt your tears were brought on as a side effect of your heat, but your heat alone doesn’t fully explain the way your scent keeps getting sicker and sicker as you stare at the water he’s offered.

“And, why would I do that?” he asks.

“Because,” pause for another chest-rattling cry you’re unable to swallow down, “because you don’t like omegas.”

Hold on. What?

Zayne closes the gap between the two of you in three deceptively calm strides, water forgotten on the counter. He tucks his index finger beneath your chin and lifts it so that you’re forced to look him in the eyes. Yours begin to wander—looking anywhere other than at his—but they eventually settle where he needs them.

“What ever gave you that impression?”

Your eyes flick to his neck, where, hidden beneath his shirt collar, two scent patches prevent him from producing the aromatic oils his body, an alpha’s body, naturally creates to attract omegas, to attract mates. It occurs to Zayne suddenly the last time you ever caught his natural scent may have been the day before he left you all those years ago.

“That’s not why I wear them,” he tells you. Well, that’s not technically why he wears them anyway. The patches do keep away omegas, but they also help him wrangle his alpha. He doesn’t like how strongly he smells. Doesn’t want to stink up the office or operating room. Doesn’t want to scare his patients. And, he certainly doesn’t want to attract any omega who isn’t…

“Take them off?” you ask as your body begins to list towards him.

He lets you press yourself against his chest and nuzzle your nose against his pec. His scent is probably strong there, though he imagines whatever smell sticks to his chest is faded and dulled. The active ingredient in his soap is meant to neutralize his body’s natural odors.

“I can’t,” he says, as you continue rub your face against him, nose traveling left of his pec to the crevice of his armpit, where his scent is likely the most potent.

“Please,” you beg, neck straining to resume eye contact, if only so you can blink beseechingly at him with red-rimmed, doe-like eyes. “You said you want to help.”

“I do,” he affirms. He rubs soothing circles into your back to placate you. Perhaps if the two of you had discussed this prior—what you like and dislike in the bedroom—he could do more for you, but he doesn’t want to take advantage of you in your primal state. “Do you have any heat aids?”

 Your cries have softened, no longer the violent, rib-splitting wails from earlier, but the tide of tears hasn’t completely stopped. He thumbs a few stragglers away, and you lean eagerly into his touch.

“Don’t want a heat aid,” you tell him, tongue darting out of your mouth to wet your dry lips. Zayne can’t tell if you’re intentionally trying to rile him up, or if you’ve surrendered completely to your inner omega. “I want your knot.”

Zayne strokes your cheek with his thumb, “I can’t give you that today.”

“Why not?” you ask him, squirming a bit to reposition yourself. Too late does Zayne realize you’re pushing your body firmly against his groin, “I can smell how much you want me. Your scent patches don’t mask the salt of your cum.”

Damn his alpha biology.

But, you’re not wrong; he does want you. He’s wanted you from the moment he first presented. He could picture, even then, sucking the smooth skin of your neck into his mouth and sinking his incisors deep into the depths of your scent gland, claiming you, mating you. That’s why he wears patches. That’s why he takes pills. His alpha craves you with a ferocity that he struggles to bring to heel.

“That’s your heat talking,” he replies, though he knows the words are a lie even before they leave his mouth. The patches and pills may keep his scent at bay, but they do nothing to suppress yours. It always sweetens when he’s near, and sours when you part. He’s spent every year since reconnecting with you attempting to convince himself that your scent changes like that around all capable alphas, not just him. That’s how scents work, right? They change based on the parties present. They communicate what a person feels.

“You’re wrong,” you snarl, top lip hiking in anger. “Stupid too, if you really believe that. Are you stupid Doctor Zayne?”

The answer to that, it turns out, varies depending on the circumstance. It would be stupid of him, for example, to carry you to your bedroom and tuck you back into your nest—his eyes find a few of his missing ties near the foot of the bundle, and he chooses not to dwell on what that could mean. It would be stupid of him to help you peel the sweat-soaked cotton t-shirt that you tossed on to greet him away from your sticky, moist skin. All this, would of course, be stupid of him because it just makes him want you more, more, more.

He does all this anyway.

“I’ll behave,” you whine, legs instinctually falling open, hands wandering south towards your glistening folds to part your lips for him.

Zayne tears his eyes away from your squirming form, determined to preserve what he can of your dignity.

“That isn’t the issue,” he says. The dulcet squelch of you playing with yourself takes up residence in his head, right behind his temple. He wonders how many times you’ve brought yourself to the brink of an orgasm within these past forty-eight hours, hoping to alleviate the lecherous itch only to agitate it further.

“Then what…”

The squelching stops. Zayne chances a glance at you, at your face only, not the supple flesh of your thighs or plumpness of your breasts or plush skin of your ass. Zayne is a gentleman in perfect control of himself. He’s thinking only about providing for you in your time of need. He is not thinking about crawling between your spread legs and attaching his tongue to your cunt. Not actively anyway. Those thoughts are intrusive, out of his control.

“Have you considered the risks?” he asks gently, eyes still glued to your face. Just your face. Just your lips and your nose and your lashes. Just your temple and forehead and cheek.

“What risks?” you demand.

“I’m not wearing teeth guards.”

He tried a few times, but the rubbery caps never sat right in his mouth.

“So?”

Astra save him do you even know what you’re insinuating?  

“I could bite you,” he patiently explains.

“And?”

And mate you, his alpha brain unhelpfully supplies. You clearly want him too. Your neck keeps lolling to the side, baring your unprotected, raised scent gland to him. Traitorous fingers move without his blessing. A thumb presses down on the slippery skin, coaxing out some of its oils. You let out a sanguine sigh.

“Zayne,” you whimper, arching yourself further off the bed, pressing your leaking gland against the pad of his thumb. “Alpha.”

What a dangerous word. One you’ve never said like that before. It’s always spit out, harsh and angry, accompanied with the roll of your eyes. Now, you drag out each and every syllable, savoring the weight of the vowels on your tongue.

“You really don’t have a heat aid?” he asks. He doesn’t understand how you’ve made it through all your past heats without one, unless you’ve heat shared with someone else, with someone who isn’t him. One of your coworkers does seem unusually attached to you…some painter you met on the job does too. Something ugly coils in his gut at the idea of anyone else seeing you like this. “We’ll have to purchase you one for the future. Until then…”

Until then what? He really, truly shouldn’t touch you anymore than he already has. Not without your explicit consent. Which you can’t give in this state. Maybe he could use his fingers to satisfy you? His whole fist if needed. He isn’t sure what your pussy is able to accommodate or what will simulate the feeling of fullness you’re craving. If his fist isn’t an option, it’s possible you have something thick and phallic around the apartment somewhere.

Trying to picture the different ways to satisfy your needs proves fatal. The hallucinogenic lucidity with which he can suddenly picture you all fucked out on his fist nearly sends him into a fit of hysterics. Gods he hasn’t even touched you, yet he can feel a wet patch blooming in his briefs from his pre.

He needs to focus on something else. Fast.

There’s no heat aid, no silicone toy, no faux phallus he can use to help you. The only instrument in his possession is himself. He looks at your neat little nest—it’s a sparse, thin thing in need of additional blankets and shirts—and you seem to understand the question forming in his mind.

“Please,” you beg, your voice a siren song, drawing him near, pulling him under. When he doesn’t immediately succumb to the melody, the next noise out of you is a piercing, high-pitched trill.

Even if he wanted to, Zayne couldn’t stop his alpha instincts from responding to the call. His knees give out, and he topples onto you, long, stiff limbs tangling with yours. A disembodied hand claws at one of his scent patches, ripping the oppressive thing away from his neck so he can rub himself against your skin and scent you proper.

“Thought you said you would behave,” he pants once he has thoroughly coated you with his oils. His inner alpha screams at him to remove the rest of his patches, to let his scent mix and mingle with your own.

“Thought you said you would help,” you huff. Then, your lower lip begins to tremble. When you bare your neck to him this time, it isn’t to titillate or tempt him, but to hide the onslaught of tears that you can’t stem in the pillow by your head. “Do you not like me?”

Fuck. Maybe he is stupid. So stupid. Oh-so-terribly stupid.

“I like you,” he says, pressing his lips against your temple. Your breath begins to steady, so he repeats the three little words again and again and again until your heartbreaking sobs finally stop and your head is no longer buried in your pillow like an ostrich’s in the sand.

“I like you. I like you. I like you a lot.”

If he could effectively communicate just how much he likes you, he would, but he isn’t sure how he could possibly transcribe into written or spoken word his all of his mawkish affections. There is no language in all of history that could accurately allow him to share the characters or alphabet of his soul with you. So, instead of telling you, he’ll have to show.

He peppers wet, open mouth kisses that are more tongue than lip all the way down your body—shoulder, breast, naval—sparing no patch of skin, acutely aware of the spit forming in his mouth at just the slightest bit of your taste.

You taste like all of his favorite things. Like mooncakes and macaroons and the strange foreign sugar-infused, sometimes doughy, sometimes flaky pastries he gorges himself on to satisfy his insatiable sweet tooth. Danishes. Croissants. Pain au chocolat. Crepes.

The sheets beneath your cunt are soaked through with your fluids, which, his alpha brain tells him is an absolute waste. The licks he begins to lavish your folds with are born of salacious desire. There’s no skill or method. No rhythm or pace. Just his tongue against and your pussy and raw, animal instinct to lick. To devour. To taste.

He slips the muscle inside you, deep as he can get it, and he feels your walls constrict around it in an effort to fill itself up. If you weren’t in the throes of heat, he’d take his time with you—warming you up on his tongue, lapping away at your slick—but right now, you need more than what his tongue can provide. Two steady, long fingers replace his tongue, reaching, further, deeper into you. They slip in too easily, so he quickly adds a third. Index. Middle. Ring. All pumping in tandem against you, working you towards a release.

“More,” you whine, sinking deeper onto his fingers, stopping only when your hips kiss his knuckles.

Zayne uses the fingers already inside you to test the stretch of your walls, scissoring all three apart. Your pussy accommodates the spread with ease, so he slowly slides in the requested fourth, slotting his pinky up against his ring, its descent aided by the natural lubricant your body so dutifully supplies.

He swipes at your clit with his thumb, assessing the sensitivity of the tiny bundle of nerves. You flinch violently as he grazes it, body seizing as if electrocuted, which is a pretty apt comparison. That’s how the nervous system works, after all. A series of electric impulses traveling from neuron to neuron, carried from branching dendrites to sturdy axons to minute synaptic bulbs.

“Knot,” you beg, plead, pray. “Please alpha—Zayne. I wanna cum on your knot.”

Zayne’s throat bobs as he swallows down all the saliva that’s been pooling in his mouth. A knot is, technically, the quickest, most effective way for him to help you through your heat. If he wants to get food and water into you, he first needs to satiate your more libidinous needs.

It’s just, Zayne is your senior, your doctor, your friend. He is reasonable, responsible, rational, and his reasonable, responsible, rational brain begins to bombard with him a series of excellent questions. Questions like: What if it’s only your omega that wants him? What if all current desires are only present due to an influx of confusing hormones? What if, once the dregs of heat have abated, you’re horrified to discovered what actions you took in the midst of it?

What if—his inner alpha, which is not reasonable or responsible or rational but rather horny and base and hopeful chimes in—you really do want him? What if you always have? What if you’ve spent all your past heats alone because he never offered to spend them with you? What if you never had to spend a heat alone ever again?

“You really want it?” he asks, just to be sure. He doubts in the short span of time it took him to come up with the question, you’ve changed your mind, but he needs to hear you say it at least once more.

“I want it,” you affirm. “I want you.”

Zayne never could deny you.

He crawls out from between your legs and up your body so that he can lock eyes with you.

“Okay,” he relents. Most medical texts argue that omegas in heat retain some of their basic faculties. They can and do verbalize protests against incompatible alphas. If you keep asking for him, for his knot, that means there is a part of you that really, truly wants it, “but I want to discuss this further after. Once this wave dies down and we get some food in you.”

You seal the deal with a kiss to his jaw.

Zayne moves as slowly as you allow him to, which isn’t very slow at all. Now that he’s agreed to knot you, you are an unstoppable force of carnal desire. Each time he tries to kneel to kick off his slacks, you pull him in for another messy, open mouth kiss. His boxer briefs, at least, are easy to shirk due to the elasticity of the cotton, and his cock is fully hard with the beginnings of a knot already forming at the base.

He rubs the tip against your slippery folds a few times before sinking balls deep inside your wet, hot cunt in one smooth thrust.  The taste of your sweet nectar still lingers on his tongue like a fantastical philter, keeping him drunk on you as his hips piston with purpose into and out of your pulsating core. His eyes find your swollen, unmarked scent gland and narrow at the thin, sleek skin. He slots his lips against your own to keep his teeth away from your drooping. vulnerable neck.

You cum before he even gets his fingers on your clit, pussy seizing around the swelling bulb of his knot. He always imagined his first time with an omega would feel earth shattering, but his fat knot slips in with a quiet, anticlimactic pop. Your greedy cunt clamps around it, and he cums with the thing pressed up against your womb, cock spasming against your tight walls. The sensation isn’t earth shattering, but it’s right. A key in a lock clicking into place. He is sheathed inside you and it feels good.

Sexually satisfied, you manage to nod off, coming to only when his knot has deflated enough for him to safely slip it out of you. Like a good alpha, he planned to grab you some water and snacks to refuel, but in your hazy, post orgasm state, you refuse to let him leave you alone, so he must bring you with him as he rummages around your kitchen for something caloric to feed you.

Only once he’s certain your belly is full and your mind is temporarily clear does he ask if you want him to spend the rest of your heat with you. The look you give him brings your earlier question to the forefront of his mind.

(Are you stupid, Doctor Zayne?)

Apparently, he is.

Because he could have had this years ago.

Because this feeling has always been mutual.

Because he’s going to make you his.