#l&ds ideas

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Since Caleb's drop I've been brainstorming what exactly his trope and etc would be! I decided that his definitely would not be the "forbidden love" trope since that's just low hanging fruit, yk?

I've got the name for it, which is "Philo(philia)", since philia is one of the greek forms of love, meaning "affectionate love" and philophilia means "the fondness of falling in love" or "being in love". The only idea of a trope i have so far is...The "in front of you all along" trope. Which is basically just two friends and one is down on their luck with relationships, while the other has an unrequited love for them. And they eventually fall in love. I'm probably stick with this trope since I do like it 🤔 but let me know if yall have any better ideas and who you'd rather see chase who! Because im planning on the one with the unrequited love is the reader, since it would be nice to have her chase after him for once but I could also have him be the one in love with her and her down on her luck with dating...

Now by far, the fated series is most definitely my favourite of the ideas I have. I really want to start writing them soon. I might soft drop their names and re-drop their ideas since it's been awhile...

So for Rafayel, it's "Purple like the ocean during a tropical twilight..." and his soulmate trope is going to be a mix of two. So colourblind until first touch and the first touch leaves a mark on your soulmate, in this case it would be a watercoloured mark. And to make things extra fun, the reader was not born colourblind, she was a rare case of being able to see colour at birth. Unlike majority of the population, so she won't know she's met her soulmate until they touch and she gets a mark on her skin.

Zayne's is "Blue like the winter snow on a full-moon..." and his soulmate trope is "soulmates get opposing evols the moment they make skin-to-skin contact". In this au, for both soulmates to gain their evols, they both have to touch each other. If only one makes contact, they'll have an evol but the other won't until they do as well. So for this, the reader has a troubled past and has a fear of fire, she also is anxious to find her soulmate so she wears gloves. Zayne accidentally touches her and gets his ice evol, but realizes she'll probably have a fire evol once she touches him, and keeps this a secret. But when the soul bond is incomplete, the evol tends to damage the body and go a bit haywire.

"Red like the smoke drifting past the morning sun..." is Sylus's title and his trope is...a bit complicated. In this Au, there's something called a Soul Instance. These can happen up to three times, but usually the bond is completed after the first or second time. Only rare cases make it to the third and survive. These instances are different for every soul pair (so different tropes for everyone in universe). So for Sylus and the reader, their first is a red string connected to their wrists. The string causes no issues during their day to day routines, it's solely for finding your soulmate and knowing it's them, but for the reader, the string is never pulled taut. He's always too far away. So a few months pass and the second instance begins.

This one is "whenever one of the pair gets injured, a flower blooms on the other's skin". So if Sylus gets a cut on his cheek, a flower will blood on her cheek. Again, it causes no issues in their work, it's just mildly infuriating.

Now, the third instance is the most dangerous. It's has a 92% fatality rate since the pair have to both be on the verge of death. And this is the only instance that is the same for everyone. I'm not sure however if it'll be body swapping (so you're in each other's bodies and have to find yourself) or if you quite literally swap places. 🤔 let me know what you think here

"Golden like the stars glistening in the moonlight..." and Xavier's is another one I'm partially unsure about. But I believe I'm just going to do "guides and esper" + "soul bond tattoos". So like Xavier is an S rank esper (someone who specializes in attacks + having superpowers, but the drawback is they will go berserk without a guide) and the reader being an S+ rank guide (someone who can calm the esper with skin to skin contact), and she can also amplify an esper's power depending on how long she touches them.

Or I might just do the "soulmate tattoos" and make it a romantic fantasy setting instead 🤔 I'm still working on this one if you can't tell

And finally, Caleb's! "Silver like planes leaving contrails amongst the stars..." and his trope would be "reincarnated soulmates + dreams".

So everyone is fated in every lifetime and they get glimpses of their past lives in dreams to piece together who their soulmate is. Their soulmate is always in the same vicinity as them (they're never across seas from each other or anything), their faces and voices are obscured in these dreams as well– and it's illegal to discuss these dreams with anyone, since others can just lie and say they had the same dream. So every night, the soulmates always share the same dream (just from their own perspective), so maybe they see some old text and they both show up to the museum and go "oh what a coincidence you're here". Then, they realize they're looking for the same thing. And after you officially find your soulmate, you can share your dreams with them, and others to try and help them find their soulmates.

And I think that's it so far? 🤔 it's not really a story update or anything, but I'll definitely post Divisa's by the weekend since it's already done! I've just been holding back on uploading it since I haven't done the chapter after yet, but I'll probably work on that during the weekend as well!

Anyways, here's some new pictures I took in LADS and I'll see you on my next post!

Future mini-series and one-shot plans ✨️

I've got a few ideas for one-shots and fics to tide yall over until the smut hits in "Twist of Fate". 👀

I've already got a small, spin off mini-series of ToF called "Strings of Fate" (name pending), a whole bunch of hybrid one-shot series, a Fated/Soulmate one-shot series, a Tropes mini-series, a cam girl one-shot series, an android (based on Detroit become human) one-shot series, a fairy tale one-shot series, possibly a professors one-shot series, possibly a super heroes one-shot series, some possible OT2 (threesomes) and OT3 (foursomes) with not a single idea in mind, and some one-shots regarding the boys' myth 5 star cards!

I'll be explaining them below the cut! 🩷

So yall can let me know which you would like to see first, I'll tell you what I've got so far with each of them! Since I'm, also, completely unsure which I want to work on or if I want to change the idea entirely. Maybe yall will have some thoughts on how I can work the ideas a bit better as well!

The hybrid ideas though...I have a lot. I got most of these (if not all of these ideas besides the hybrid ones) from my scrapped BTS fic ideas so if I decide to write BTS ones, you might see some overlapping.

I can't say much on the spin-off since it's major spoilers for ToF and, so, I'll probably start it after I get up to 25 or 30 chapters in posting ToF.

Oh right, let me explain Hybrids for those who might not know. They're basically like nekos, think of those hot cat girls in anime. They're humans with animal parts or characteristics!

But anyway, the first section is "Prey Hybrids". I have Rafayel down as an axolotl, Xavier as a frosty Holland lop rabbit, Sylus as either a sika deer or a tufted deer (both are native to south asia and I have no idea which one to use), and Zayne as a Black Beauty sugar glider.

Next section is "deadly hybrids". I have Rafayel under Great White Shark (they have two penises so I could use this in the story), Xavier as a Grey Wolf (wolves can knot 👀), Sylus as a melanistic tiger, and Zayne is a leopard seal. Now, I'm not sure how I'll make Zayne into a leopard seal hybrid, I was going to use a snow leopard but...I have a "polar hybrid" section coming up soon and also I didn't want two big cats in one part.

Now, we're onto "domesticated hybrids" so think of your cats, dogs, any animal that humans have thought "hey, that'd be a good pet" fits here. Rafayel is a calico koi fish (still undecided here), Xavier is a Corgi (I thought golden retriever but I didn't want to say the obvious), Sylus is a black smoke Maine Coon, and Zayne as an Agouti Husky.

"Uncanny Hybrids" is our next category and for uncanny, I wanted to do hybrids that not a lot of people write for. Like you usually see cats, dogs, octopi, sharks, squid, and stuff like that so I wanted to do the ones that not many people would do and that's difficult. Rafayel would be a chevrotain (which is a mouse deer with little fangs), Xavier would (fittingly) be a sloth, Sylus would be a vampire bat, and Zayne would be a Kangaroo (I might swap Sylus and Zayne but do note that Kangaroo have two penises as well; and I have no idea how to explain to my FBI agent just why my search history is filled with stuff like this but I must do my research for stories 😞).

Two more categories. We have "Polar hybrids" as mentioned earlier and "Mythological Hybrids".

For the polar ones, Rafayel is an arctic fox, Xavier is a penguin, Sylus is a snow owl, and Zayne is a polar bear!

The Fated/Soulmate series! I'm unsure what to call this exactly. I might have it under "Fated mini-series" but it's going to be four different one-shots with each of the guys under a different soulmate trope. So you can give me feedback about this as well or even comment something you'd want to see instead or even help add upon the idea itself!

As for the mythological, it's half unfinished. I only have Rafayel as a kitsune and Sylus as a cerberus/hellhound hybrid with Y/n being the daughter of Hades.

Rafayel's soulmate trope would be the "colourblind until you touch" trope. Where everyone is colourblind until you meet your soulmate but for an added twist, the first touch from your soulmate leaves an imprint wherever they touched. So, for example, Rafayel grabs your arm as you try to leave and it leaves a pretty, water-coloured imprint on your wrist. I think that would be a fitting and cute combination for Rafayel.

Xavier's soulmate trope would either be "dreams of a past life together", so you both dream of your past life and have to find the person in your dreams, or "at a young age, you can make something and send it to your soulmate. This item will be key in finding your soulmate as an adult." So, let's say you send Xavier the star sword tassel and he sends you a crystal (imagine the protocore he tries to give the mc in his anecdotes). Then, as adults, you see Xavier walking to class with the charm on his backpack while your grandma, Josephine, turned the crystal into a necklace.

Zayne's is, by far, my favourite idea. It's "once you touch your soulmate, you get opposing evols". So similar to "opposites attract". You're childhood friends with Zayne and for some reason (spoilers), you wear gloves so you can touch anyone. Zayne also wears gloves in solidarity with you but, one day, he forgets his gloves and catches you when you slip. His hands touch your bare elbows and suddenly, he has an ice evol and yours is fire. For some extra angst, fire is traumatic for you and so is the thought of soulmates.

Sylus's is more of a funny idea than anything. A "tangible red string of fate" so similar to the evol linkage in game. He can drag you around with it and everything. It gets more visible and stronger the more you think about the other person, so at first its barely even noticeable and he can't move you with it. But soon, he can literally drag you out with him and you can play a funny game of tug-of-war with it.

I also had the fleeting idea of grumpy x sunshine but that's more of a "trope" than a soulmate trope.

The Tropes mini-series;

I also have another good fate idea for Rafayel, a stand-alone one. This soulmate au would be "your soulmate is from another world and you get dreams of their day-to-day life. You must decide if you'll cross over to their world by your 23rd birthday and, if you choose not to, you'll lose your connection to them." In this au, Rafayel would be the God of the Sea and you would be an average person. Rafayel would be more than willing to leave his life for his soulmate but as the last God of the Sea...You end up making the decision for him.

So this one is a four-shot with an accumulation of tropes. So each LADS boy will have a one-shot of a different trope. Like friends to lovers, rivals to lovers, etc.

I could've went the obvious route and chose Zayne or Xavier as childhood friends to lovers but I didn't want the easy way out to be honest.

The trope I chose for Rafayel is "amnesia". You've lost your memory and woke up in the hospital with a man seated next to you. His hand desperately gripping your own as if he were a balloon about to fly away. "Uh...hello?" You ask, your throat feeling dry as if you hadn't spoken in weeks. "Y/n!?" The man jerks awake with wide eyes. Tears flood his waterline and he gently cups your face. You can feel his hands trembling and you tilt your head to the side, confused, "Are you...my boyfriend?" "What-" Rafayel looked confused, but it only takes a few seconds before he nods, "Yes. I'm Rafayel, your boyfriend."

In actuality, you're his bodyguard and you got injured trying to protect him. He lies to you because he doesn't want you to put yourself in danger for him anymore.

Xavier's trope is a complete flip on what you would originally expect. I chose "rivals to lovers" for him, just because I had a small idea where he could be a lightseeker and you would be the other faction. (I forgot the names of the knights on Philo, they're from Xavier's lightseeker myth if you're confused) But you also get annoyed with Xavier because he keeps putting off his princely duties. Annnnd it would be funny to call him "Princess".

Zayne's trope is also not "friends to lovers". Instead I thought "forbidden love". This one is a bit of a stretch and I can tweak it if it's unliked but this would be a fantasy au where Zayne is from the Kingdom of Linkon and he's a saint blessed by Astra (the God from his Forseer myth) and you are a princess from the Kingdom of Philo. You were blessed by the Goddess Lux (I made her up and her name means light) and you've come to Linkon's Kingdom to possibly marry their prince, Greyson (I didn't want to use a love interest for this role), and unite the kingdoms. Instead you, a princess from a kingdom who doesn't believe in Astra, and Zayne, a follower of Astra, fall in love. Also, Zayne's powers cannot affect you because of Lux's blessing, which gives you the ability to resonate (make other's powers stronger), heal, and create a ball of light so hot that it feels like fire itself.

Now, Sylus is our friends to lovers! A modern au friends to lovers where your mother is a top operative in Onychinus, a crime syndicate led by Sylus's parents. You meet while young (but not too young) and have a seven year age gap. You've always had a crush on Sylus, since you were little, and Sylus possibly does but he avoids thinking about it because of your age difference. At 30, he feels like he's way too old for you, at 23 in this. Now, to not make it weird, your mother passes away and you're sent to your grandma, Josephine's to live a better life away from all the crime. You grow up there from highschool, all the way until college when disaster strikes. On your way home for springbreak with Caleb, your friend- who your grandmother took in, your home explodes. The blast kills both Caleb and your grandma. This was clearly an attack by a rival gang and Sylus steps in to take you back to Onychinus.

The next category is the "camgirl" mini-series. This one was a must-have to add because I've read so many BTS camgirl one-shots and loved them so much. I doubt any of the four guys would ever want their love on camera for everyone to see but they might not mind as much if they're on screen with her...

I hope you guys aren't tired of this by now! But either way, I'll keep going since I'm not done yet. I just wanna put my ideas out there and figure out which I should be working on as I post my weekly chapters for "Twist of Fate".

So for Sylus, I already have a name. I came up with it at work- "Welcome to the Puppet Show".

For the rest, Xavier's would be the usual. He's your childhood friend and he recently gifted you a necklace for your birthday. His friend, Jeremiah, tells him about this camgirl website and jokingly shows him a few videos. After this, Xavier has been watching your lives for a while now until he notices something peculiar in today's session. You're wearing the necklace he gave you. He instantly knows it's you because he got the necklace custom made and he confronts you about it.

The idea is as follows, "Sylus strings you up like a puppet with his evol during one of your weekly cam-sessions." That's it. That's all I got.

Rafayel is a tattoo artist and he recently gave you a tattoo. It was a pretty unique one so he'd never forget what it looked like, especially where you had it done. A cute, little koi fish ying-yang under your breast. He sees the tattoo in one of your cam-sessions and I'm not sure how you would meet up after that, if I'm honest so let's move on to Zayne.

Zayne is your partner during your cam-shows. He's your close friend from school and once he learnt of your cam-shows, he casually offers to be a part of them for when your fans get tired of your solo lives. He's always only lent a hand, never actually fucking you. Neither on camera nor off. But on your final live, you ask him to fuck you. This is your final live because you're planning on confessing your feelings for him afterward.

The Android mini-series is, once again, solo one-shots compiled into a series. This series was heavily taken from an old bts mini-series I had. Like Rafayel's would've been Taehyung's (his model would've been the Vante KTH7-1230), Xavier's would've been Jimin's (his model would've been PJM7-1013), Zayne's would've been Namjoon's (his model being Holmes 2.0 KNJ7-0912), and Sylus's would've been Yoongi's (his model being OG Holmes MYG7-0309). So, I might change Zayne and Sylus's models because I might want to write this idea for bts in the future, but just let me know if you want to see it and I'll make some changes!

Now, we're onto the most unsure one of all; the Android mini-series.

For Rafayel's, you were fully colourblind when you were younger but you were deadset on becoming an artist. Your grandma, Josephine, had always wanted the best for you so she worked many days of overtime at her job until she could finally afford a corrective surgery- but only for one eye. You've gotten the surgery, which was replacing your original eye with an android one so now you have one e/c (eye colour) eye and one magenta eye. Later on in life, you were finally in college for an art degree and your professor gifts you his old android. A Delaux model (the model is named after a famous artist who painted mermaids) with the ID number RF04-0306. The Delaux model of androids are used to help artists with colour correction and matching, give input on what would sell best or look more appealing to buyers, and even give an artist ideas for artworks or create compelling backstories that their artwork could be based upon. All Delaux androids have unnatural coloured hair since it's against their coding to have nature hair because it's normal and therefore boring for such an artsy android model. Rafayel is the only Delaux model with his hair colour.

Next up is Xavier. He's a Lux model android with the ID XV04-1016. Lux model androids are primarily used as an assist for the military and police force as replacements for the K-9 unit, so they're lithe and light on their feet. These models always have blonde or silver hair if they work for the police and black hair if they're affiliated with the military. If they have any different hair colour, then the Lux model is considered defective and is terminated. These models cannot be kept by the public because they're a higher caliber of android, unless they are protecting a rich client. For your story, you find him in an alleyway or maybe a garbage dump and he's half destroyed. You decide to bring him home to your mechanic shop (your home is above the shop) to repair him. Once your power him on, he remembers nothing so you decide to keep him around- almost as if he's a stray dog. Also, in this story, you have an android arm. For this one, I'm 100% sure if I want him to be a military android but it makes sense for him. It was either this or a sex worker android and I feel like that doesn't fit with him..

Zayne is a Holmes 2.0 model android with the ID number ZY04-0905. The one and only Holmes model in existence since the last one was shut down because it was ruled compromised (or deviant) after a various amount of tests. The Holmes model is a less animalistic version of the Lux model; These androids are more intuitive and less likely to instigate conflict. Black hair is their only choice of hair colour, anything else and they will be decommissioned. In this, you are a damn good detective. The best there ever was...until your accident. You miscalculated an explosion radius during your last big mission and it costed you big time. You ended up losing both an arm and a leg. Your boss (the chief of police) compensated you for your injuries. He provided you with an android arm and leg to replace what you had lost and a brand new Holmes 2.0 model android to be your little sidekick for the next few months, until you can get used your new limbs. This would be his first official test run before the EVER corporation created more of his model. But you hated it. You felt useless to your team and you felt less human with your new android add-ons. You pretty much took out your anger on your newly acquired android because they gave you an android to solve a problem that an android caused in the first place! Damn defective android almost killed you, all because it "didn't want to die". I love the premise of this but Holmes doesn't fit with Zayne's aesthetic. I can always swap him to a medical assistance android where Y/n has a heart condition and Zayne is her android that takes care of her but it's up to yall! If I change Zayne, I have to change Sylus's though because their models go hand in hand for the story.

And lastly, we have Sylus. He...can't remember his model name but he knows his ID number, SL04-0418. Though, every time he looks up his ID number, he gets no results. Nothing. It's almost as if his model never existed or...it was decommissioned. That would mean he's defective and he doesn't want to admit that. He doesn't want to be shut down. After searching, he soon learns that he might be the original Holmes model but...it's not like he can just ask anyone, they'd shut him down if he asked..right?

I think we're at the half-way point! This is where it goes downhill to be honest. The only good one here is the first one, I feel, but if I thought about it more, I'm sure I'd find better ideas for the other guys.

You have worked in the big, shiny and glaringly white EVER corporation building for years at this point, creating and customizing many androids that are constantly in every day use. You painstakingly detailed everything about these androids from their faces to even their personalities and the very first Holmes model was no exception. You grew very close to this android during the years of designing and creating him, you even gave him a name. Sylus. He was one of your favourites, out of all of your creations, and...he was decommissioned. You honestly never thought you'd see him again until you were brought in to shut him down and you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You had loosely based his looks on an old friend whom you had a one-sided crush on. From his hair to his eyebrows, his physique and even the scar on his chest. You were able to take full creative liberties with the very first Holmes model android because, well, it was the first in existence. But now, he's just called a failed prototype. You made him too...human. Too independent and strong willed. This wasn't the designated personality for a Holmes model android and this ultimately led to a cop becoming gravely injured on Sylus's first mission. The negligence caused by your own hand haunts your every day because you could've killed someone. It would've been your fault, after all. But now with that android, your android, standing right in front of you once more...You can't seem to let him go. You can't lose him, not for a second time. You're willing to throw your whole job away to protect him, sick and tired of androids being treated horribly just because they're becoming self aware and more human. So again, let me know if you like this idea and if you do, I hope you won't mind if I end up re-hashing it when I possibly make my bts android mini-series <3 because I genuinely can't think of anything that works with Sylus. Nothing else really makes sense but I'm also unsure of how the story would go with this one 🤔

Rafayel's fairy tale story is quite obvious. It's "The Little Mermaid" but flipped. You would be Eric and Rafayel would be Ariel, however Eric would be the one wanting to be part of Ariel's world. You've seen him in the ocean multiple times from your beach house. Honestly, the first time you saw him, you thought he was drowning but then you saw the beautiful purple and blue tail fin that adorned his lower half. He was...a mermaid? Every day for a few weeks, you'd take some time out of your day just to watch him breach the surface and play around with the seagulls. He would sometimes sit atop driftwood and large boulders in the ocean. He was a sight to behold. And then, he began to take notice of you. Eventually, the two of you begin engaging in conversation- but not before he accuses you of wanting to fillet him like a fish. As the two of you grow close and he tells you stories about his home, Lemuria, you decide you want to be a part of his world. You find a traveling witch and she gives you an ultimatum. You can become a mermaid to live with Rafayel but you must give something up equal in return. Now, the tricky part is, I'm not sure what I want for Y/n to lose. I don't want it to be her voice, her eyesight, her emotions, so I'm thinking maybe she gains a heart condition so she can be with him but not for a long time. Though, this heart condition can be cured with an act of passion. An action that would tug on anyone's heart strings would be enough to snap the strings of Y/n's heart back into place. Also some mermaids are depicted with two penises so...Yeah!

Xavier's is yet another obvious one. I decided to go with "Sleeping Beauty" but I can always change it if I can find a better one. On the day the little prince was born, a warlock appeared and let out a cackle, "I shall curse the sole heir to Philo's throne. This kingdom has brought many sufferings to warlocks and witches alike and it shall be brought down by the prince himself!" The warlock, named Luminous (I came up with that on the spot but it's a parallel to Maleficent and Lumiere) also cursed the king and queen with infertility so they couldn't just have another child. And so, on Prince Xavier's 23rd birthday, Luminous reappeared and unsealed the curse upon the prince. Thorns erupted through the banquet hall, wrapping around the entire castle, and whomever was pricked by the thorns fell into a deep slumber. 50 years have passed since the kingdom of Philo fell into a deep slumber and you, a witch who was also childhood friends with the prince, decide to sneak into the castle and plunder it for any treasures it may hold. While searching, you prick your finger on a thorn and panic, thinking you will also succumb to the curse. However, you don't. This could be because you're a witch or because you're just the protagonist. Either way, this leads you to believe that you could wake Xavier up and this option would pave the way for more money in the future so it's your best opportunity for some quick wealth. As you head over to Xavier, pondering on how you could wake him up, you end up tripping over something on the floor and you land on top of him. Your lips crashing into his and you can taste your own blood. Congrats, you've awoken sleeping beauty! :D

Sylus's story...I'm torn between "Rapunzel" and "The Beauty and the Beast". He's got the Flynn Ryder aesthetic but also the Beast's at the same time so once I come up with a storyline, I'll probably make my decision.

Here's where the ideas get less and less detailed. This was another mini-series taken from my old bts ones and honestly, I might not even write these but I thought it would be nice to add them here just in case.

Zayne's is also another hard decision. I could go for the obvious "Frozen" or perhaps Mulan. I'll explain my Frozen storyline though since that's all I've got. So Zayne is Elsa and you have the power of fire. (I haven't seen Frozen 2 but I think there's a girl who wields fire in it?) You don't know that you have this power and you were a princess who was just banished from your Kingdom, Philo, due to the false charge of trying to murder your step mother, the queen. You were banished from your warm kingdom to a desolate, snowy forest in the Kingdom of Linkon. And here, you stumble upon Zayne's ice castle that he created with his powers. Now, the story behind your false charges is, your step mother went from a mistress to a queen after your mother passed away and your step mother got rid of you because she wants her son, the king's non-bilogical, to be next in line for the throne instead of you. So, instead of fighting your way to go back home, you convince Zayne to allow you to stay in his castle until the snow storm outside subsides and you can leave. Soon, you learn of your fire powers and Zayne offers to aid you in learning how to use them. Also, Zayne's younger brother Greyson (He is Ana here) and his girlfriend Yvonne (She is Kristoff) are the rulers of Linkon because Zayne locked himself away in the castle in fear that his powers would hurt someone.

Zayne would be an English professor with you as his teaching assistant. Even though you're an assistant, you also do some classwork to bide your time when you're not busy and even turn it in to Zayne to have him 'grade' it. This week's essay for a romance essay and you decided to write a steamy little romance essay for fun and submit it to Zayne after class. A week passes by and you're worried he either saw it and didn't care or he's going to mention it when you leave expect it- which he does the latter. He's intrigued at how knowledgeable and intimate the scenes are, and questions if you've done something like this before. You respond that you're a virgin and Zayne asks, "Would you like to feel how your essay would play out?"

For Rafayel, I'd do the obvious choice of an Art Professor with you as his teaching assistant (you're always the teaching assistance because Professor x student feels a bit icky to me, just the power dynamic and everything. I'm not too into writing it). Anyway, he needs you to be a model for a painting but never tells you just what kind of model.

Sylus's could be a physical education professor, I'm not sure if that's even a type of professor? (I didn't go to college so I wouldn't know) but I'm on the fence about this one. I could base it loosely off of his boxing 5 star card.

Xavier would be the Theatre/Drama professor and he needs you to be his supporting actress for rehearsals. Maybe you both are participating in a big play with the students and you need to practice your lines?

Because these ones are specifically so short, I'm not going to add a break in-between. It feels unnecessary but the next idea is superheroes. Honestly since I love Spiderman so much, I might make them all spiderman but for now...here's the ideas.

Xavier would be Lumiere (comparable to Spiderman), Rafayel would be spiderman (because I don't want to write aquaman-), Zayne could be winter soldier, and Sylus might fit as Iron Man. So in these stories, you'd be Iron man's secretary (so think Pepper), spiderman's best friend, lumiere's biggest fan and probably a reporter, and I'm drawing a blank on winter soldier.

The superhero one is honestly my weakest link when it comes to these one-shots but I really want to give it a shot.

Then, the actual one-shots that wouldn't be in series's would be all of their 5 star myth cards but reimagined. So I wouldn't write them word for word, just loosely base them on it.

The only example I have is for the Sea God myth.

Annnnd that should be it! I really wanted to add my space/alien! Bts au since I really like it and will more than likely write it in the future, but this isn't a bts post so I don't want to write about them too much here but if you want to hear about it then I might make a separate post about it!

So in this story, you're still an orphan being raised by the emissaries as a sacrifice for the Sea God but you have grandma Josephine, who was a clergy woman at the church you were confined to. She would tell you all kinds of stories about Lemuria and the people who lived under the deep sea. Then, on your 19th birthday, she passes away and shortly after, you were thrown into the sea as a sacrifice for the Sea God. I set the age at 18/19 just because Rafayel's coming of age ceremony to become the Sea God is within the 5 star myth cards and usually your coming of age ceremony (at least in ro-fan manhwas) is around the age of 16 to 19.

With that being said, I hope you enjoyed reading through my ideas for the future and have some that you're looking forward to! Other than that, my next post will be Chapters Six and Seven for "Twist of Fate" on late Friday or sometime Saturday! I don't have an exact time since I'll have to cross-post to both wattpad and AO3 but it'll be one of those two days. I'll possibly even post chapter eight as well, but I'm not too sure yet since I'm writing chapter twenty and I don't want to post too many chapters at once. I'll see y'all once more on friday/saturday! 🩷

[buckiverse]

Lessons

☆--- paring: zayne x reader

☆--- summary: Your childhood best friend, Zayne, had always been there for you, loyal, supportive, and understanding. So, when you realized you had a crush on Caleb, you turned to him for help. Taking it upon himself to be your guide, Zayne offered to teach you a few lessons in love. But as the lessons progress, you start to wonder... was Caleb really the one you wanted all along?

☆--- word count: 9.9k

☆--- warnings: mdni, oral sex, fingering, missionary, zayne is literally so jealous, caleb is kinda the boy best friend you tell your boyfriend not to worry about ngl, reader is inexperienced, soft!dom zayne, size kink if you squint, zayne knows you so fucking well it's sickening (he's just so sweet), no protection is used (wrap it before you tap it)

☆--- a/n: loosely based on nightly rendezvous (yes im doing a childhood best friend au for everyone... i fear im obsessed)

↳ xavier | sylus | caleb | rafayel

Some part of you felt like it was a bad idea—you knew better. Even after all these years, it felt surreal that Caleb was one of your closest friends. In your small town, there weren’t many people to bond with. The tight-knit community had shrunk over time, and most people you knew were just memories now. But you’d never forget the two boys who lived next door. One was more charming, the other more reserved, but both were just as kind and reliable.

Years later, that sense of community felt like a distant dream. It was why you jumped at the chance to move closer to Caleb and Zayne after they relocated to the city. The passing of your grandmother had made staying in the countryside unbearable. But as you stood ankle-deep in snow, staring at the truck piled high with your belongings, you wondered if you were in over your head.

The cold wind bit through your gloves as you trudged inside the apartment building. Your eyes darted nervously to the heavy furniture that needed to be moved. You shifted your weight, glancing at the door every few seconds. If any of the boys decided not to show up, you would be screwed. 

“Y/N!” Caleb’s voice rang out, and your head snapped up. Relief surged through you as you saw him approaching. Without thinking, you rushed into his arms, your cheeks burning as his warm embrace enveloped you.

“It’s good to see you too,” he teased, his playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. His hands rested lightly on your back as he pulled away, studying your face. “How long were you standing out there?”

“Not long,” you lied with an awkward laugh. “I just—got lost in thought.”

How he looked at you made it hard to breathe, as if he still saw the same girl from all those years ago. The creak of the lobby door saved you from spiraling further. 

Zayne strode in, his dark coat dusted with snowflakes. His sharp gaze flicked from you to Caleb’s hands, still resting on your waist. For a moment, his jaw tightened, but he quickly smoothed his expression.

“You’re late,” Caleb called out, smirking.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Zayne replied, his tone dry as his eyes settled on you. “I almost thought you forgot about me.”

“Never,” you said with a grin, stepping forward to hug him. His arms wrapped around you briefly, his touch warm but hesitant. You smiled before turning and walking over to the elevator. You missed your family, and now it felt a little closer to being pieced back together. 

You gave a debrief of the plan for the day, as there was plenty you could do on your own later. Though you were grateful to Xavier for helping you get a place, it needed…tlc. The boys agreed to help you move bulky items and clean up the remnants of a bug treatment. 

The boys retreated to the lobby—they had to move a couch and some other, far too heavy things. The three of you had been friends for years, bickering and fighting like siblings, but never with ill intent. Though Caleb and Zayne constantly teased each other more recently than anything, you weren’t sure what was a joke anymore. 

Your body jolted. A sound of a shout came from the hallway, distracting you from sweeping. 

“Damn—Zayne, pull up the couch—” Caleb strained and bit out. 

“You’re the one who’s not paying attention,” Zayne shot back calmly. 

You walked up to the unfolding scene, your hands resting on your hips when you approached them. The couch was now on the tile of the apartment hallway. You were glad they didn’t break your stuff while they messed around.

“And… Why is my couch on the ground?” you asked, your gaze shooting between them. 

“It seems Caleb’s grip slipped,” Zayne quipped. You could feel the air quotes around the last portion of his statement. His hands were resting on his hips as his breathing slowed and evened out.

“I just need a second—I’m sweating over here,” Caleb said, a deep breath coming from his lips. 

You watched as he lifted his shirt. His jeans rested low on his hips as he lifted the fabric, you could see faint trails of hair leading down his abdomen. He had a vein running above his hip to below his pants. 

Your eyes betrayed you as you shamelessly traced his body. Fuck, he looked good.

Zayne watched you in silence, observing, watching the surprise on your face when Caleb lifted his shirt. And he did not like it. First, why did Caleb always do shit like that, but besides, why did you seem to like it so much.

The three of you worked together to tackle the chaos of the moving day. With the bulky items moved, Caleb helped you clean the kitchen while Zayne focused on the living room. You stood on your tippy toes, wiping the cabinet the best you could, stretching to reach the top shelf. Caleb moved in behind you, his body brushing against yours. 

“Let me get that,” he said, his voice soft as he grabbed the cloth from your hand.

Your breath hitched as his warmth seeped through your back. His fingers brushed yours briefly, sending a jolt through you. You moved aside, trying to compose yourself. He stepped to the side after finishing, leaning onto the counter, “Why don’t I take over this part, since you’re so small?” a playful grin played on his lips, as he winked at you. 

“Always picking on my size,” you joked, your voice shaky. “Maybe you’re just too tall.”

His grin widened, but something in his gaze lingered a moment too long. “...Maybe,” he murmured, his voice low.

From the corner of the room, Zayne’s gaze flicked toward the kitchen. His hand paused mid-swipe on the wall, his eyes narrowing at seeing Caleb leaning close to you. His grip on the rag tightened, but he quickly looked away. This wasn’t the time.

You noticed all his progress when you made your way to Zayne. He almost successfully cleared the living room. “Can I help?” you said, approaching his side. 

Zayne’s lips quirked into a slight smirk. “I figured you’d be too busy with Caleb to remember me.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” you shot back, an uncomfortable laugh leaving your lips.

He attached the extended handle before handing you the mop, his fingers brushing yours slightly. “Guess I’ll have to remind you why I’m the favorite,” he said, his tone light but his eyes serious. 

☆

You fell into a routine in the following weeks, trying to adjust to your new life. Weekly meetups with Caleb became a ritual, and today, you waited for him at a quaint coffee shop Zayne had introduced you to. The warm smell of coffee and pastries filled the air as you spotted Caleb walking in, his black coat framing his tall figure.

“Y/N!” he called out, his smile lighting up. He hugged you tightly, lifting you off the ground for a moment.

When he set you down, his eyes held yours for a beat too long. Your stomach flipped as you sat across from him, trying to steady your thoughts.

You began your catch-up over a coffee and some food. Your discussion filled the silence, and you shared a laugh while discussing the latest work drama. You clued Caleb into the details about your coworker, and how the Hunter’s Association locked his file.

It was pretty peculiar in your field; most hunters had a public record, released by the organization they resided under, but in his case, it wasn’t as easily accessible, making him a high-profile individual. Which just made you curious. As talented as you were you couldn’t help but notice the difference in skills between the two of you. It was so obvious he’d been at this longer than you. 

Caleb listened intently as you shared the latest work news, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup.

“And what are you going to do about it?” he asked, his voice teasing. “Detective work?”

You shook your head, biting your lip. “I don’t know. It feels like I’d be invading his privacy. I guess—I’ll wait for him to tell me when he’s ready.”

Caleb’s gaze softened. “That’s just like you,” he said quietly, his purple eyes glinting in the light.

Before you could process his words, your watch buzzed with an alarm. “I gotta get back to work,” you said, grabbing your things in a rush.

“I’ll take care of this,” he said, gesturing to the table. “See you later.”

It was a lighter cold today, and no heavy snow blocked your path. As you walked back to work, you were honestly heavy in thought. You couldn’t stop thinking about Caleb. His smiles and touches felt deliberate, and you had no idea how to handle it. Dating had always been a mystery to you, and your nerves weren’t helping.  

This wasn’t the first time these nerves graced your presence. When you were much younger, you recall the party, the smell of alcohol, the loud music, and unfamiliar faces. You knew Zayne and Caleb of course, but them being a bit older than you made this crowd—one you hadn’t been exposed to before.

Making your way through the door was the worst. Caleb knew everyone, saying “hellos,” “hi’s,” and “what’s up, dude,” as he led the way. Making your way through the moving bodies was a challenge. You were thankful for Zayne’s hand holding onto yours as you made the way. You scanned the crowd, and everyone was dancing. The number of people grinding on others was mesmerizing, and you wanted in.

The music thudded through the walls, pounding against your ears. You remember making your way up the stairs, following closely behind Caleb, as Zayne sandwiched in behind you, finally letting go of your hand. Honestly, this didn’t seem like Zayne’s type of crowd, and he wasn’t the most outgoing. 

When you reached the room, it had fewer people than the rest of the house. You walked in, sitting on the couch while Zayne stood near the corner of the room. Some people sat in a circle with a bottle in the center, obviously playing a game. One of the girls asked if you and the boys wanted to join. 

You could feel the eyes of two important men in your life shift to you. Both were curious about your response. 

“...yeah.” 

Caleb also joined the game, sitting directly across from you. A girl with blonde hair spun the bottle, and before you knew it, it was your turn. 

Placing your hand on the bottleneck, you spun the bottle, watching its turning motion with curiosity. When it stopped on Caleb, the purple of his eyes glinted as he looked between you and the bottle. 

You could hear the circle of people urging you both on. It was just a kiss. You could do this. He’s your friend. You sat up on your heels, your hands burning as they rested on your knees. 

He got close to you and whispered, “Ready?” only for your ears to hear, and he kissed you, his lips connecting with yours softly, sweetly. Some people teased him for the gentleness at which his lips touched yours, but something shot through you when his lips touched yours. He softly bit your bottom lip before he pulled back from you. 

He kissed you. Zayne saw, everyone saw, and you liked it. 

You needed advice—something solid to guide your next move. You’d already admitted to yourself that you liked him, but how were you supposed to approach this? What did you even say? Zayne helped you through that kiss, reminding you it was just a game. But all these years later, you wanted to be more than a game to Caleb. Even in your shared youth, he had good advice for you, so why wouldn’t you trust him?

When you arrived at the office, your mind was still a tangled mess, buzzing with uncertainty. You decided it was no use overthinking it; it was better to rip the bandaid off.

You pulled out your phone, hesitating for a moment before texting Zayne:

You:

“Can I call you? I need some advice.”

When his reply came moments later—“I have a patient right now. I’ll call you after.”—you let out a relieved sigh. You trusted him, and you needed his help.

Relief washed over you as you read his reply, your heartbeat finally slowing to a steady rhythm. You let out a soft sigh, tucking your phone away. All you had to do now was organize your thoughts.

While you waited, you turned to your caseload, focusing on the profile you’d been compiling for a new wanderer-type you’d encountered during a hunt weeks earlier. Using old files as templates, you typed furiously, the steady rhythm of the keyboard pulling you into the zone. Minutes turned to hours as you worked, the world fading into the background.

The buzzing of your phone jolted you back to reality. You glanced at the screen and barely caught the call before it went to voicemail.

“You want me to teach you how to date?” Zayne’s voice drawled through the line, laced with amusement.

Heat rushed to your face as you groaned audibly. “That’s not—it’s not like that!” you blurted, but Zayne only chuckled softly.

You spent the next ten minutes stumbling through your explanation, your words tangling as you tried to paint a coherent picture of your situation. When you finally stopped, waiting anxiously for his response, all he said was:

“Okay.”

That one word was enough to knock the wind out of you. “Okay?” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Okay,” he confirmed calmly.

Your heart soared. “Okay, then,” you echoed quickly, trying to mask your nervous excitement. You rushed to thank Zayne before ending the call, clutching the phone to your chest. Relief and joy bubbled inside you. You knew Zayne would come through for you. You trusted him completely.

On the other end of the call, Zayne set his phone on his desk, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. He began packing up for the day, shaking his head in amusement. The idea of you coming to him for dating advice was equal parts endearing and intriguing.

Of course, he would help you. That much was never in question. But who had caught your interest so suddenly? The thought gnawed at him, tempting him to ask outright, but he resisted. He’d figure it out eventually.

As he picked up his phone to draft a response, a quiet laugh escaped him. “Lessons,” he murmured, the word rolling off his tongue with amusement. He couldn’t help but smirk as he began typing out a plan. Lessons in dating and seduction? If anyone was going to help you succeed, it was him.

☆

Your phone buzzed with details for your first lesson. You had to admit you were quite excited. When you open the message, you read simple instructions:

Zayne:

“I’ll pick you up at 7 pm. Wear something nice, but comfortable.” 

A quiet scoff escaped your lips as you gripped your phone, its cool metal grounding you—way to give me nothing, Zayne. Still, you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips as you typed back.

You:

“Got it.” 

With a rare day off, you had more than enough time to overthink this date—or, well, lesson. You'd been on dates before, but this felt different—important. You wanted to impress Caleb later, but you also wanted to enjoy this with Zayne and learn from him.

Determined, you took your time getting ready—a long bath, smooth and refreshed skin, natural hairstyle, skipping the heat of flat irons. Your makeup was subtle, accentuating your best features—your eyes and lips. The outfit? Simple, with an effortless elegance: a black skirt, a beige sweater, and knee-high black boots. Something nice but comfortable, you echoed mockingly in your head.

The doorbell rang. Your pulse quickened. Taking a deep breath, you cracked the door open.

“I’m grabbing my bag—give me a sec,” you said quickly before shutting it again.

Zayne chuckled softly on the other side. You looked nervous, and he thought it was cute.

When you finally stepped out, his eyes swept over you, approval flashing in his gaze. “Ready?” His voice was warm, familiar.

You swallowed, heat rushing to your cheeks. “Yeah.”

Locking up, you stepped beside him, weaving through the apartment halls. The elevator was packed when it arrived, leaving just enough room for the two of you to squeeze in. When the doors slid shut, the crowd's pressure pushed you toward the back corner of the elevator.

Zayne stepped in after you, his body instinctively blocking the others from pressing too close. His warmth enveloped you, a wall of quiet protection. When his chest brushed against yours, your head shot up, startled by the contact—only to knock it against the cold metal wall behind you.

A low groan slipped from your lips, and Zayne chuckled. “Careful.” His hand came up, cupping the back of your head gently.

You stilled. Zayne’s touch was light but steady, fingers warm against your scalp. You let yourself settle into it for just a second, your cheeks heating.

Then, with a soft ding, the doors slid open. The moment was gone.

You followed him out quickly, slipping into his car. The silence was thick but not uncomfortable. Still, you were the first to break it.

“So… where are we going?” you asked, anticipation bubbling beneath your skin.

Zayne’s grip tightened subtly around the gear shift, veins visible against his skin. His lips curled into a faint smile. “You’ll see.”

—

You hadn’t expected this.

The setup was breathtaking—candles flickering softly, a picnic blanket spread on the grass by a lake, and wildflowers scattered around like nature’s own confetti. The crisp spring air carried the scent of earth and blooming petals, a reminder that winter’s grasp was finally loosening. The sun had just begun its descent, casting everything in golden light.

Zayne stood behind you, watching. He caught how your breath hitched and how awe softened your features. The faint flush that always seemed to bloom when he was near. He reveled in it.

“Lesson one,” he murmured. “A date.”

You turned to him, eyes wide. “Zayne, this is…” Your voice wavered with something close to wonder. “This is perfect.”

A small, knowing smile touched his lips.

You hesitated. “I’ve never really—” You exhaled. “So… what do we do now?”

He motioned for you to sit. “First? We eat.”

You obeyed, watching as he unpacked the meal. Your gaze flickered over the assortment of sweets tucked beside the entrees, and you bit your lip. He remembered your sweet tooth.

Your heart squeezed.

He handed you a sandwich—one of your childhood favorites. You took a bite, savoring the familiar flavors and the quiet thoughtfulness behind it.

The evening unfolded like something out of a dream. The conversation was easy and flowing, as it always was between you two. You talked about everything and nothing, letting the city fade away, and the wine in your glass disappeared far too quickly.

At some point, you made the mistake of looking at him.

The sunset bathed him in amber light, the gentle hues accentuating the sharp cut of his jaw and the faint green specks in his eyes. He looked beautiful—effortlessly so. The sleeves of his powder blue dress shirt rolled up, revealing strong forearms, veins pronounced as his fingers idly toyed with the rim of his glass.

His gaze lifted, catching yours.

You panicked. Tipped your head back, draining the last of your wine, pretending to admire the sky.

And so the night went on.

Laughter. Warmth. The kind of company that made the world feel a little less lonely. It had been too long since you’d felt this way.

Maybe that was why—

—why you ended up tipsy.

The last thing you remembered clearly was Zayne’s hands on your waist, steadying you as you stumbled at your door. His voice, amused and gentle, coaxing you inside.

And then—

"You're drunk."

His voice was strained.

Your skin burned. “N ‘m not,” you murmured, reaching up, fingers clumsily ruffling his hair. “I w’nted to kiss you, Z-Zayne…”

His breath hitched.

You wobbled onto your tiptoes, pressing a sleepy, featherlight kiss to his cheek. “G’night, Zayne~”

Darkness.

And then—morning.

Your head throbbed. You groaned, pressing your palm to your forehead, and then—

The memory came rushing back.

Your stomach dropped.

Shit.

What did you do?

You kissed Zayne—just a kiss on the cheek, but no less a kiss. And you didn’t know how you felt about it. Maybe you liked it. And when you checked your phone, your heart skipped a beat. 

Zayne:

“Are you feeling better?”

It was a simple question, but your body felt warm, and a smile tugged at your lips as the cold metal burned your hand. 

You:

“Yes, I’m still a bit warm, but much better :)”

And from there the conversation flowed. 

Zayne: 

“So you’re ready for your next lesson?”

You:

“Duh.”

☆

This lesson was set up differently—as a more casual experience. Zayne held the door open, allowing you to enter as the scent of perfumes and faint traces of liquor—something you planned to avoid tonight—filled your senses.

Zayne trailed closely behind you, his eyes drawn to your fitted black dress. It hugged your curves just right, and while you were always beautiful, tonight, you looked divine. His gaze lingered, but he didn’t say a word, instead committing the image to memory.

You settled into the plush velvet seat, crossing your legs as you waited for him to join you. The slight pressure of the fabric against your skin and the low hum of jazz music set a tone of subtle sophistication.

“Lesson two,” he murmured as he sat beside you. “Body language.”

A sly smile crept onto your lips. This time, you were ready. Beyond your carefully chosen outfit, you had mentally prepared to hold your ground. Tonight, you would stay in control.

“So, what’s the plan today, Zayne?” you drawled, leaning forward as your fingers lightly brushed his bicep. You pretended it was a casual touch, but the way his muscles flexed beneath your fingertips sent a jolt through you.

Zayne tilted his head slightly, studying your face. A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes. “You’re already ahead, princess,” he whispered, his voice low. The words felt like a direct hit to your resolve.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, your lips parted as you scrambled to regain composure. “Head start?” you echoed, tilting your head and trying to sound nonchalant.

"I want to see what you've learned—think you can charm me?" he said simply.

The lounge was an upscale dream: dimly lit, lined with high-end paintings, and filled with the smooth rhythm of jazz. The swaying figures on the dance floor moved in tandem with the music, and for a moment, you let yourself get lost in the scene.

Leaning in closer to Zayne, you brushed your lips near his ear. “Should we dance?” you whispered, your hand steadying yourself on his knee.

The scent of his cologne—clean with a faint hint of jasmine—enveloped you. You felt his gaze sharpen, and when you pulled back slightly to meet his eyes, the faint green specks in them seemed to glow under the low light.

“Shall we?” he asked, his voice smooth, as he stood and offered you his hand.

On the dance floor, your movements flowed easily, the music guiding you. You pulled him closer, and your body pressed flush against his. His hands rested on your lower back, firm and grounding, while your fingers trailed up his chest. The hard muscle beneath your touch sent a thrill through you.

“You look so handsome tonight, Zayne,” you said softly, your lips curving into a small smile.

“Only tonight?” he teased, the corners of his mouth lifting.

Your finger traced lazy patterns on his chest. His heartbeat was steady initially, but you noticed the slight quickening as your touch lingered. You looked up at him, your gaze filled with something unspoken but deeply felt.

“You always do,” you whispered.

The air between you was charged, the tension pulling you closer. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, grounding you while simultaneously making you feel like you might float away.

When the tempo picked up, you spun away from him, creating a bit of distance as you swayed more freely. He matched your rhythm more stiffly than anything. You couldn’t help but smile—this was fun.

“You’re way too stiff,” you said, getting close to him. Watching him try to whine his hips to the upbeat tempo was amazing. A laugh left your lips as your hands gripped his hips. “Why are your feet so close together?!” you choked out. 

“I was never a dancer,” he said flatly, unamused by the tears in your eyes. 

“Move to the beat,” you said again, trying to show him the way, but he didn’t get it. If you asked him, he’d rather watch you move your body. You moved beautifully, rolling your hips with precision.

When the lounge prepared to close, your cheeks ached from grinning, and your legs were deliciously sore. You shivered slightly as you walked side by side through the chilly night air.

“You look cold,” Zayne said, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders before you could protest.

The warmth of the fabric—and his scent—wrapped around you. A soft, rich aroma of jasmine and something distinctly him made your heart flutter.

You nudged his arm, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “You know… I think this was the best night I’ve had in a long time.”

“I haven’t danced like that in forever.” you said.

“How could I forget?” he replied, his eyes briefly flicking to the stars above. “It’s your favorite thing.”

His fingers brushed against yours, tentative at first. You took the leap, intertwining your fingers with his. The warmth of his hand sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, and you caught the faint blush dusting his cheeks.

This man was everything.

☆

Later That Week

You had agreed to meet Caleb for a more eventful hangout—to meet downtown and do whatever caught your eye. 

You spotted him easily. His tall figure towered over most people. You walked up to him, and he hugged you tightly. The warmth of his body covered yours, but it didn’t raise your heartbeat. 

When he loosened his grip on you, his hands rested on your shoulders, “Long time no see, pipsqueak,” he said, his voice full of joy. 

Your cheeks felt tight from smiling—you were happy to see him, but not for the same reasons as before.

“I know, it’s been a few weeks,” you said, pulling back from him and looking into the purple of his eyes. “Let’s get back on schedule,” you breathed, a light smile plastered on your lips. 

Work had been busy, but the truth was that your lessons with Zayne had occupied your thoughts—and your time.

While you started your walk downtown, plenty of things caught your eye. The first thing you did was enter a record shop. The store was in the basement off of a side street. It was a little creepy, but it looked like an underground studio once you got inside. Records were all over the shop, on the wall, and in little baskets stacked in rows. 

He browsed next to you, shuffling through the records occasionally showing you one he thought you’d like or an album you’d enjoyed. And in spending this time with him, you realized that you enjoyed this. 

The simplicity between you, the light air, and the lack of expectations for anything more was all you needed. Caleb’s fingers softly brushed yours as he placed a vinyl behind the one you held up for him.

“Find anything good?” you asked, your feet planted evenly on the ground as you turned to face Caleb. 

His eyes bore into yours, something flickering over them before he answered you.

 “Nah—let's get some food,” he said quickly, his demeanor suddenly returning.

Exiting the store, you joined in step beside him, exploring the city's night scene. Your options were endless as you scanned the shops that lined the streets. You spotted a food truck and the smells coming from it were amazing. 

Altering Caleb, you both sat at the outdoor seating, waiting for your orders. The chill of the evening air seeped through your clothes, making you shiver slightly.

“Do you want my jacket?” Caleb asked, his tone playful. “You look like you’re freezing.”

“Only if you have an extra,” you said, bouncing your leg under the table to keep warm.

With a smirk, he reached into his bag and handed you a spare coat. “You’re my best friend, You know I always do.”

You slipped it on, grateful for the warmth but… that was it. There was no spark, no flutter of excitement. You tried to convince yourself otherwise, adjusting the collar and wrapping it tighter around yourself, but it felt like just a jacket.

In the quiet moment that followed, your mind drifted back to Zayne. His jacket had enveloped you in warmth and scent, and your heart raced when he was near. You glanced at Caleb, who was busy watching the street outside.

Nothing. That kiss was—just a kiss. Years ago, you wouldn’t have believed anyone. Not even Zayne could have convinced you it was a fleeting crush. But it really was. You felt proper chemistry, companionship, and care and wanted to keep experiencing that with Zayne.

The weight of your realization was crushing. All the time you spent—wasted on this man. You cared for him, you truly did. But, what about you? Why were you so pent-up and focused on this person you didn't even really like? Was it really him you missed? Or just how he filled your time and made you feel small—safe, even?

That's the point. You’re not small. You're a grown woman who can stand independently, make her own decisions, and provide her own entertainment. Relief washed over you in waves because what were you even doing? Holding onto a version of the past that no longer fits?

But right behind it, sadness crept in. Not for Caleb, but for the time lost—chasing something never meant to be yours. But you didn’t truly waste time if it led you here—to someone real. To Zayne.

You forced a smile, staring down at your lap, and tried to push away the sinking feeling in your chest. You used to admire Caleb. It should feel special, especially his attention and time, but—it doesn’t. 

Caleb was the person you had wanted—the reason for the lessons.

The contrast was stark, undeniable. And for the first time, you realized the answer had been clear.

☆

You had admitted to Zayne that you wanted a cozy evening. Work had drained you, but more than anything, your recent realization had knocked the wind out of you. It wasn’t just an idle thought—the truth that settled deep in your bones, undeniable yet terrifying.

You knew what you needed to say and do, but the effort of voicing it—of being honest with Zayne—made your nerves coil tight.

Your lessons have helped. You felt more confident, more self-assured. You understood what a date was supposed to be now, what it meant to be courted and wanted. But more than anything, you wanted something real.

With him.

So, he invited you over after work.

Zayne:

"How about I cook you dinner, and we watch a movie?"

You:

"How do you always know exactly what I need?"

…

Zayne:

"Make yourself at home. I just finished setting up."

When you arrived at his house, the living room instantly warmed you. The room glowed softly from the candles he had lined along the tables, their flickering light casting gentle shadows against the walls. The scent of something rich and savory drifted from the kitchen, mingling with the faint traces of his cologne.

But the sight of something familiar made your heart catch in your chest—small plushies, the ones you had won years ago, still resting on the couch.

He had kept them.

Your fingers grazed one absentmindedly as you took it all in, a lump forming in your throat.

You didn’t miss the sound of the shower running from the other room, and heat bloomed across your face. The thought of him stepping out—steam rising, droplets tracing the planes of his skin—sent your mind spiraling. He had just gotten off work, yet he still made time to set everything up for you.

As if on cue, the water stopped. A moment later, the door cracked open, and Zayne walked out, a towel slung low on his hips, another in his hands as he ruffled it through his damp black hair.

“Don’t be a stranger,” he said casually, his voice smooth. “Have a seat.”

Then, as if completely unaware of his effect on you, he strode into his bedroom and shut the door with a soft click.

You swallowed hard. That lasted less than a second, but it was enough.

His physique was unreal—his lean yet defined frame, the way his skin still glistened slightly, the tantalizing trail of hair disappearing beneath the towel… and God, you wanted to know where it led.

This was new. You had never felt this way before.

And he was making you crazy.

You forced yourself to move, settling onto the couch, trying to calm your racing heart as you waited for him. You distracted yourself with the snacks he had spread across the table, but your mind kept replaying that brief glimpse of him.

When he finally reappeared, dressed in a fitted shirt and sweatpants, looking effortlessly breathtaking, your breath caught in your throat.

Something about this moment—the candlelight, the scent of dinner lingering in the air, the sheer intimacy of being here with him—felt so real. So domestic. So much like something you wanted forever.

Zayne disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you in the glow of candlelight. A few moments later, he emerged with two plates in hand, setting them down on the dining table before motioning for you to sit.

“Did you make all of this?” you asked, raising a brow as you took in the spread before you.

“Of course,” he replied smoothly, settling across from you. “I figured you’d appreciate a home-cooked meal after the week you’ve had.”

Your heart ached at how thoughtful he was.

The meal was warm and comforting—just like him. You took a bite, letting the rich flavors settle on your tongue and savoring the moment. Zayne watched you carefully, his gaze flicking to your lips before he took a bite of his own food.

“This is really good,” you admitted, breaking the silence. “You’re full of surprises.”

He smirked slightly, tilting his head. “You act like you don’t already know I’m good with my hands.”

Your fork stalled mid-air. Heat crawled up your neck as your eyes snapped to his.

Zayne smirked slightly, taking another bite as if he hadn’t set your whole body on fire with that one sentence.

Your stomach twisted, and it had nothing to do with the food.

“I—” You cleared your throat, trying to regain composure. “I suppose I do.”

His gaze flickered with amusement before he leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming lightly against the wood. Something was intoxicating about the way he watched you. It was like he was reading every thought running through your head.

The tension built slowly, lingering between every glance, every soft smile exchanged over the rim of your glasses.

At some point, his foot brushed against yours beneath the table. It was barely a touch—so light it could’ve been an accident. But when you met his gaze, you knew it wasn’t.

Neither of you spoke on it. Neither of you moved away.

It was almost unbearable, the weight of the moment, the way the air grew heavier, tighter.

After dinner, you both moved to the couch. The flickering candlelight cast shadows across his sharp features, making him look even more devastatingly handsome than usual.

You curled next to him as he flipped through the streaming options before settling on something. Not that it really mattered—you could barely focus because of how close he was.

The movie played, but you weren’t watching.

You were too aware of Zayne’s presence, the warmth of his arm resting along the back of the couch, fingers occasionally brushing against your shoulder. Every tiny touch sent a current through you.

Then, in the middle of a scene, Zayne suddenly reached for the remote.

Click.

Ring…Ring…Ring…

Your phone started ringing, now of all times, and you dropped your gaze to the device at the same time as Zayne. 

Caleb calls all the time, but the timing of this was just—it couldn’t be a coincidence. And you weren’t sure if you should answer. 

“Don’t pick it up,” was all you heard, as you gripped the metal of your phone tighter. 

“Why,” you whispered, your voice small now. The confidence you had before flickered, unsteady—like a candle caught in the wind. You felt tender, exposed. Unsure if you had the strength to do what needed to be done.

“I know you wanted lessons, because of Caleb,” he started, his eyes meeting yours. The air felt cooler now, and goosebumps ran over your skin. 

"I can’t do this if you’re still holding onto him," he murmured, his voice steady—but stretched thin, like he was barely holding himself together.

“I can’t bear to see you with him—now that your presence has graced me, I see small pieces of you everywhere I go,” he admitted, his voice soft and tortured. 

Zayne exhaled through his nose,  running a hand through his dark hair before finally speaking.

“I don’t want you to want Caleb—I want you to want me” he breathed.

The screen froze mid-ring. A silence stretched between you—thick, suffocating. Heavy with everything left unsaid.

Your brows furrowed as you turned to him, only to find his gaze already on you—serious, searching.

Your breath hitched.

The weight of his words settled deep in your chest, heavy and unshakable.

You swallowed. Say it.

“I thought I wanted to be with another man, Zayne…” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. He tensed slightly, his jaw tightening, but you reached for his hand, your fingers brushing against his.

“But I don’t,” you continued softly, eyes searching his. “I want this. I want you.”

The words left you in a breath, raw and real.

Zayne didn’t move, didn’t speak right away. But you saw how his eyes darkened, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“Please, Zayne,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly as you leaned in.

Your breath stilled, heart hammering. He was too close—his scent, the warmth radiating from his skin, the slight tremor in his breath. And then… finally, you leaned in, and he met you halfway.

You pulled back slightly, your breaths intertwining in the room's dimness. Your eyes opened tentatively, and you saw Zayne staring at you, his chest heaving from the kiss you had just shared. 

“Again,” you murmured, a silent plea because now that you were here you couldn’t let this pass. And Zayne obeyed, kissing you again. You could feel him shifting your position. His hands found your back, and he briefly disconnected your lips to lay you on the couch. 

His knees straddled your hips, as he just watched you, “Beautiful,” he whispered before tasting your lips again, the weight of him on top of you was not only delicious but welcome. You gasped at the pressure, and he slipped his tongue in your mouth. A groan escaped your mouth when his tongue entered your lips. 

“Wait,” you said, your hands resting on Zayne’s chest as he lay on you. 

“I’ve never done this before,” you said, noticing the clench of his jaw, flushed face, and swollen lips. 

He waited for a beat, watching you silently, “I’ll take care of you, princess,” he exhaled.

“I don’t have much experience,” he admitted, his gaze shifting from yours.

Your eyes widened with shock at his admission. You had assumed he was experienced, and that was part of the reason you asked him for help. 

You took a breath, smiling at him. " Let's learn together,” you whispered in his ear before leaning your head back and resting it against the pillow. 

You pulled him flush against you, his weight pressing you into the couch. He began his thorough search kissing your temple, to the crux of your ear, “Another lesson, …hm?” he whispered. And that caused you to writhe beneath him—the sound of his voice in your ear, and the soft vibrato of his confirmation. 

He began his steady exploration with his lips and hands. Stroking up and down your body, though most of it covered, the cool of his hands made your skin get chills when he touched you. 

“Can I take this off?” he asked, gesturing to your t-shirt. 

“Yes,” you said too quickly, embarrassed by your eagerness. 

You adjusted your body, allowing him to pull the fabric over your head. You lay there sitting up on your forearms, just watching his explorative touch. His pointer finger traced the outline of your bra, hovering just above your skin. 

“You—” you started, biting the fat of your lip, “Zayne, I want you to take this off too.” 

And those emerald eyes watched you. In his head, he couldn’t believe you would be his—already prepared to memorize your every reaction. His hand trembled before steadying against your skin. The contact of his hand caused you to arch away from the couch. Click.

The bra fell forward as you shrugged it off your arms. Your whole body felt warm as you guided Zayne’s hands to hold your breasts. Your hands rested on his before you moved them back to the couch. His thumbs felt the hardening peaks beneath his hands, and he gave them a tentative flick, watching your face. You squirmed beneath him. 

Sensitive here. He made a mental note, before rubbing the hardened nub against his thumb at a steady pace. 

He moved his mouth to your other breast kissing it, before watching your face as his tongue made contact with it. Your hips jerked forward gently when he flicked it with his tongue. You bit your lip watching him play with your nipples. 

“Can—you touch me there?” you whimpered. His lips parted from your nipple. 

“Where?” he asked, and both of you just looked at each other. 

Before you took his hand and brought it between your legs. You held it there rubbing yourself on his hand through your pants, but you didn't miss the way Zayne trained his eyes on you. Watching each little reaction you had when he touched you. Even the lightest of touch made his lips part slightly even with the furious flush of his skin. 

His cock was straining in his pants, but he waited, wanting to learn you first.

He laid you down, your hands threading into his hair. Pulling him close to you he buried his face in your neck. The smell of jasmine filled your senses, as he groaned beneath you, breathing in your scent. You leaned back into the couch, shaken by the idea of him on top of you.

Your breasts pressed against his chest, the cool fabric causing a shiver to roll through you. He ran his face up and down your neck leaving a trail of light kisses. It was as if he was savoring you, imprinting your smell, your presence in his mind—as if you’d be done with him after this.

“You’re beautiful,” he groaned against your throat.

Zayne steadied himself on his hands on either side of your head, his gaze trailing over your body to where he would find himself next. His eyes stopped between your thighs, he watched intently as you squirmed beneath him, your body shifting under his gaze.

Your heartbeat felt loud in your ears, and the cold stillness of the air sent a shiver through you. His lips found your jaw, kissing a slow line tracing to your throat. Each touch of his lips sent heat between your legs, and you tilted your head to give him more access, a whimper escaping your lips. 

Zayne was just a friend, someone who supported and loved you but someone you felt you couldn’t have. Your change of heart made you act on a whim to take advantage of your time with him. You wanted him, and no one else could have him but you. He was a high you couldn't—didn't want to get rid of. 

You grasped the blankets on the couch, trying to ground yourself somehow, while he worked slow kisses down your chest with light scrapes of his teeth.

His hands ran down your sides, caressing your breasts to your hips, his thumbs brushing the naked skin beneath your sweatpants. It was a maddening sensation, and you only wanted him to keep going.

You could see his erection pressed firmly against his pants, and you felt tempted to reach forward, to touch it. To pull him closer firmly against you, to feel him where you needed him most. 

One of his hands left you cupping you over your pants. The pressure against your clit stole your breath. A quiet groan of approval left his lips, while you felt a pulse between your legs.

You ground your hips upwards into his hand. A breath left your lips as you moved your hips. 

“Touch me, Zayne,” you breathed, you felt like you were in a dream. 

He paused, his breath hitching at your words. His gaze darkened, the green of his eyes barely visible, as he searched your face. His jaw clenched, his voice dropping, rough with restraint. “Say that again.”

You observed him, grabbing the drawstrings of his pants. “Touch me Zayne, …Please” Your voice came out small, pleading. 

He exhaled slowly, his fingers twitching against your skin. He traced your pussy through your pants, his fingers burning through your pants—that you wished he’d taken off already. 

"You have no idea what you do to me," he murmured, his thumb brushing over you, his touch reverent, like he was memorizing you.

You had never been undressed like this. And you wanted it, you wanted to be touched by him, to feel him grabbing you.

He gripped the waistband of your pants, adjusting his position to push them down your thighs, dropping them to the floor. You sat there in only black underwear while he sat across from you, still in his t-shirt and sweats. 

His attention was all yours, and it was thrilling. 

Your hands still gripped the blanket beneath you. Your feet were tucked next to your bottom. 

“Let me see you.” His voice was low and deliberate. His fingertips grazed your knee before applying the faintest pressure. His eyes searched yours, waiting. “Spread your legs for me.”

You took in an unsteady breath, and you did it. 

His hands ran up your legs, his fingers pressing into your thighs, making your stomach tighten unexpectedly. The cool of his hands felt good against your soft skin. 

The cool air brushed against your panties making you aware of how wet your panties were. Zayne’s gaze met you there, shooting warmth through you.

Your breath hitched when his thumb pressed down on your clit through the fabric. His other hand was steady on your thigh, pressing your thighs open wider. The brush of his thumb up and down sparked a heat in your lower stomach.

You leaned your head back and started to rock under his touch. And then he kissed your nipple, sucking it into his mouth. He groaned, licking and sucking your breasts with a slight scrape of teeth. A high-pitched moan escaped your lips, one of your hands gripping his hair. 

His mouth was so hot, and he kept licking you, how you’d never felt before. You felt like you could die. So, when he removed his mouth from your breasts, you thought you were going to scream. 

He removed your underwear, leaving them in a pile with the rest of your clothes, spreading your legs once more as his gaze fell between your thighs. 

His fingers glide gently along your inner thigh, his touch warm and deliberate, but never rushed. His gaze softens as he takes you in, his breathing slow, controlled—like he’s memorizing every part of you.

"Are you sure?" he murmured, his voice hushed, almost reverent. His thumb stroked lazy circles against your skin, a silent reassurance, a quiet promise that he won’t rush you.

When you nodded, his lips part slightly, his eyes locked onto yours, searching—making sure.

"Let me take care of you," he breathed, his hands smoothing up your thighs as he leaned in closer, pressing a lingering kiss just above your knee. "I want to make this good for you."

He wrapped his arms around the back of your thighs, pulling you closer to him, and his head lowered between them. You shuddered at the first touch of his tongue, pleasure running through you. Each soft lap of your clit rolled through you. 

His arms held you so securely that you couldn’t move your hips while he licked you. As much as he said he wanted to take care of you, it felt like he was doing this for himself. 

“Zayne,” you moaned, digging your hands into his thick black hair. 

He swirled his tongue over your clit before sucking. His eyes were on you, watching you writhe beneath him. His finger filled you, sending a tremor through you, with his mouth on your clit, licking and sucking, while his fingers moved in and out of you. And he did it with such ease, deep noises of satisfaction falling from his lips. 

He was taking his time, slowly working you out and the pressure was building up in you. You bucked your hips, feeling the heat growing throughout you. 

“Zayne…I need more,” you cried out, your voice trembling with desperation. 

His name fell from your lips like a prayer, and he answered it with slow, calculated movements—his pace steady, yet devastating. He added another finger, stretching you further, his touch unrelenting as he pressed deeper, curling just right. The pleasure was unbearable in the best way, a wave crashing over you with no hope of escape.

Your breath hitched as his dark, heated gaze met yours, watching, reading every reaction like it was the only thing that mattered. His free hand smoothed over your thigh, grounding you, soothing you—only to bring you higher moments later.

A choked-out plea left your lips, your body arching, back curving as the heat coursed through your veins, pooling low in your stomach. You clenched around him, muscles tightening as that sharp, dizzying pleasure built to a breaking point.

“That's it,” he murmured, voice thick with something unreadable, something possessive yet achingly tender. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss against the soft skin of your inner thigh, his breath hot and teasing, sending shivers up your spine.

And then—release.

Your body trembled, pleasure crashing into you in relentless waves. He didn't stop, not right away, working you through it, coaxing every last aftershock from your sensitive body until you were completely spent.

You collapsed against the couch, fully fucked out, limbs heavy, your mind hazy with bliss. 

A shaky breath left your mouth, as you sat up slowly running your fingers through his hair.

Neither of you spoke. You didn’t need to.

The air between you was charged, thick with something unspoken, something dangerous. Something real.

His jasmine scent invaded your senses as his body wrapped around yours. You closed your eyes, surprised by the sudden upward jerk of him holding your naked body. You held him close as he carried you to the closed bedroom door. 

He laid you on the bed gently, holding your stare, he slipped off his shirt and sweatpants, your cheeks growing warmer even as he stood before you in his briefs. You glanced at his erection pressed through the fabric. He was so hard, and it was hot. And all for you. 

Goose bumps spread across your skin, as he opened the nightstand drawer, pulling out a condom. 

“Do you want me?” he whispered, his gaze meeting yours, as he dropped his briefs. 

“Yes,” you breathed.

He crawled over you, kissing your stomach and breasts as he did. His body covered yours, so heavy. It made your skin sing with satisfaction. He kissed your neck, bracing his hands beside your head. 

Your fingers trailed the line of hair, you'd been desperate to touch. You hesitated, unsure how to touch him. 

Zayne felt your hesitation, and meeting your gaze, he whispered, “Your touch… I need it.”

Your heart fluttered with uncertainty, but you slid your hands down gripping his erection. His forehead fell on the side of your neck, encouraging you further. 

You wrapped your hand around his length. And he groaned. You ran your hand down to the base and all the way back up. 

"Don’t make me wait…please" you whispered in his ear, placing a kiss there.

"Tell me how much you need me,” he rasped, nipping at your neck.

"I’ve always needed you, Zayne," you said softly, dragging your hands through his hair. "I need you in every way… not just tonight."

His eyes met yours before kissing you while you stroked him again. Your breasts brushed against his chest, sending pleasure through you. 

“...Please” you breathed. 

He rolled onto the bed next to you, slipping off his briefs, the sound of the wrapper crinkling in his hands drawing your attention. You watched as he poised to tear it open, his gaze flicking to yours for confirmation.

“Wait,” you whispered, your voice soft but resolute. He paused instantly, his eyes searching yours.

“I want to feel all of you,” you said, vulnerability lacing your tone, the weight of your trust hanging in the air.

His expression softened, his brow furrowing with both tenderness and concern.

“If it’s too much, just say the word,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, a promise woven into each syllable. “I won’t do anything you don’t want.”

He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering as though to reassure you. Positioning himself at your entrance, his movements were deliberate, his focus entirely on you.

He took the head of his erection and rubbed it against your pussy. The tip caught your clit, causing your breath to hitch. He started to slip the head inside you, and it stung. A shudder rolled through you as you exhaled. Your fingers curled on his chest as he stayed still inside you, watching your face. 

He pushed deeper into you, his gaze dark and unwavering as he watched the way your lips parted, a soft whimper spilling free. The sound sent a shudder through his body, his breath coming out ragged as he struggled to hold himself together.

The stretch burned—a slow, intoxicating burn—one that sent heat rolling through your veins. You felt so full, every inch of him fitting into you as though he was meant to be there.

When he finally bottomed out, a cry tore from your throat, your back arching, pressing you flush against his chest. His arms wrapped around you instinctively, his weight solid, grounding, overwhelming in the best way.

He didn’t move right away.

Instead, he stayed buried deep, letting you adjust, letting you feel every inch of him. Your arms wound around his neck, and he exhaled against your skin, his breath warm and uneven.

For a moment, there was only the sound of your mingled breathing, the slow rise and fall of your chests as you both tried to catch air. He was everywhere, his presence consuming, intoxicating.

And then, he moved.

A slow, deliberate roll of his hips.

You gasped at the sensation, at the way he dragged against your walls with aching precision, each thrust filling you completely. Your nails raked down his back, and he shuddered at the sensation, his control fraying at the edges.

“You take it so good,” he praised, his voice thick, rough with something raw, something reverent. 

Every time his pelvis ground against yours, his head spread throughout you. The friction sent sparks up your spine, every movement of his body against yours pulling a new sound from your lips.

He was watching you, utterly captivated by the way you unraveled beneath him. His thrusts remained slow, deliberate, as if savoring every reaction, every little gasp and moan that escaped you.

His fingers traced down your side, over the curve of your waist, gripping you tighter as his pace deepened, intensified. His gaze burned into yours, filled with something you couldn’t quite name.

His eyes locked onto yours, his thrusts slow and deliberate. “So beautiful for me,” he rasped, his voice low, dripping with need.

The words ran over your skin, filling you with warm satisfaction, your head tilting back as another moan escaped you. Zayne’s lips hovered above yours. With each slow thrust, they brushed yours lightly. 

His pace faltered, his rhythm stuttering as he fought for control, his breath ragged against your skin. But he didn’t dare rush—he wanted to feel every second of this, every shudder, every tremor that wracked your body beneath him.

“You’re mine… all mine,” he groaned, voice thick with possession, his body tensing, muscles drawn taut as he drove his hips deep one last time.

A choked moan escaped you as you shattered beneath him, pleasure crashing over you in waves. His grip on you tightened as his own release followed, a deep, guttural sound leaving his lips as he buried himself fully, claiming every inch of you.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of your ragged breathing, your hearts hammering in sync as he collapsed against you, his weight a comforting warmth pressing you into the mattress.

Neither of you spoke right away.

Zayne traced slow, lazy circles on your bare skin, grounding himself in the feel of you, the reality of you. His forehead rested against yours, his breath still uneven but calming, syncing with yours.

Then, in the quiet, his lips tipped into a smirk against your temple.

“So… does this mean I can finally call you my girlfriend?” His voice was lower now, teasing but laced with something real—something hopeful.

He pulled back slightly, eyes searching yours in the dim light. “Or do I have to seduce you all over again?”

His grin was cocky, but there was something vulnerable in the way he looked at you—like he needed this answer.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, a slow, tired smile spreading on your lips as you exhaled softly.

"I think you already have," you whispered.

The tension broke as he let out a satisfied hum, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before pulling you closer, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

And you didn’t want him to.

Not now.

Not ever.

[abyssconqueror]

i think what really gets me abt sylus’ nightly rendezvous is that it really emphasizes how needy and desperate he is in general for you to need him, doing everything in his power to both be by your side and support you especially after the bewilderment (and likely more) he felt after mc was initially disgusted by him;

say “i’ll come to sylus if anything happens” three times as payment and i’ll break my usual personal rules to help someone. idk what any of these brands of menstrual pads are but since you need some i’ll buy one of each and let me know if you need anything else- no the store doesn’t have anything i want i just wanna see you. sure i’ll take care of you when you’re not feeling well even when you’re being fussy. i suck at this? teach me then. teach me who i need to be for you to want me to stay the way he’s so gentle when he kisses you even through the passion of it, keeping his hands caressing something, whether your cheek, your hair, your back, your thigh

but then even when you’re in his lap, kissing him back, literally all over him he’s asking questions like “you really don’t want me to leave?” “you haven’t changed your mind, have you?” constantly checking in to make sure you really want this as though you’re not simultaneously matching his energy simply because he’s so shocked and overwhelmed by it. he covers it up with the suave facade of his, but even in such a short preview the mask slips; you can see it in the way he blushes when you get aggressive, the way he covers your eyes before leaning in to all but devour you as he threads your fingers together again in that way he always does bc he’s that pent up

really wasn’t expecting to write this much but there’s smth abt the genuine vulnerability of a character w sylus’ background esp being like “i really need you to want me as badly as i want you bc i can’t take it anymore and i’m starting to lose it” that’s so fucking hot idk idk idfk

[comatosebunny09]

An AU where Sylus is your new tall, dark, and handsome neighbor.

He’s an enigma until you bump into him a few times at the mailboxes, community gym, front office, supermarket, etc. With time, you realize he isn’t as intimidating as he looks. He’s just a big, goofy softie with a penchant for music and eating food.

Eventually, as you become more acquainted with your neighbor, you invite him into your apartment. For small things at first—a cup of coffee here, a movie there. You can’t help the pull you feel towards him. He’s good-looking, his voice is devastating, has a disarming aura, and he’s good with his hands.

Instead of inviting the creep of a maintenance man to fix things around your apartment, you employ Sylus with the promise of warm meals and good company.

He has no issues repairing your squeaky dryer, stubborn dishwasher, garbage disposal, and any other miscellaneous things that break in your abode. He’s also a pretty good cook and sometimes speaks to you in different languages when you’re both a little tipsy on your couch.

Don’t ask him to sing, though. Gods, you nearly shat yourself from laughing the first time you discovered he couldn’t hold a tune to save his life.

You often wait on your balcony at night for him to return to his place so you can greet him in the parking lot. Sometimes, he’s gone for weeks at a time, or he comes home really late at night. He rarely leaves before sunset, always catching you in the breezeway with a disarming smile and a husky “Hello, sweetie.”

You don’t press him about what he does for a living—he once off-handedly mentioned that he works in real estate. However, you don’t know what part of that profession causes him to come home, sometimes littered with scars and bruises, in the wee hours of the morning.

Regardless, he’s a treat to be around. You find yourself craving for more than just those smug smiles and your thighs accidentally brushing together whilst seated on your couch and talking. But you don’t think you’d have a chance in hell with a guy like him. He seems married to his work more than anything.

Follow-up fic here.

[rui-drawsbox]

sylus being a loser for his gf and more doodles

[qinluna]

NOT WHEN IT COMES TO YOU (W. SYLUS QIN) wc. 1050. hurt/comfort. reader is the mc and experiences a panic attack. canon compliant to the l&ds story, no spoilers. character study-ish on the mental state of the mc. sylus is perceptive person and sees through the reader. non-established relationship. not proofread. side note: my writing program crashed after i pasted it to the tumblr draft. lol!

‘Does any of it matter anymore?’

You write those words in a pocket-sized journal every night. The very same one that’s tucked away in your drawer where an assortment of lingerie overfills and molds within one another. You have to do something, anything, to keep your body aware of its movement, its functionality and life.

Does any of it matter anymore?

You almost want to reach out to Zayne about it. To talk. To explain this stream of endless thoughts and the endless void of questioning your worth. Things haven’t been easy, to the point where you wonder if taking the Hunter Exam, valuing your worth on whether or not you passed, was worth it in the end. Not after everything you’ve found out. Not after everything you’ve witnessed and lost.

Now, you had bargained your life. A bold, risky step that required more trust than you could ever ask for. (You got it, regardless. You had nothing to fear in that aspect.)

“Does any of it matter anymore…?”

You ask yourself again, your voice a low whisper. You needed to make sure you were here, still. Some way, somehow. You were now shrouded by a blaring red sky and even darker red moon. Your gaze, holding faux grit, stares into a crimson gaze that looks over your sunken, kneeling form.

He wears a light curl of a smirk, lowering himself to you: “You should speak up, little Hunter. I can’t quite hear you.”

You push down that growing dread in an empty chest. But if it were empty, your heart wouldn’t be housed there, beating ferociously as you were face to face with the one who had answers you needed. If not all, at least some. The ones to point you in the right direction.

You call it going away in your own head—it’s what you do when you feel more than just your heart on the verge of giving out. It’s what you do when your fingers begin to twitch and tremble, your words struggling to come out. You don’t consider it freezing up completely, but a different sensation.

It’s just something you always dealt with on your own, always aware of.

The gentle flick of your fingers at your side gauges your knowledge of it happening again. Surrounded by desperate brokers and merchants; people with vile intentions and greed that isn’t a homely territory back in Linkon City.

You’re reminded why Onichynus thrives. Why Sylus wears the success and pride he does.

Despite his teachings intending to help you hold that same pride, you can’t. You realize too late in this room full of people who could eat you alive, you bit off more than you could chew. You remain by Sylus’ side as he indulges in the meaningless chatter of those who throw themselves at him with wretched desperation—but the room is beginning to feel hazy.

You know you should’ve arranged something. Some kind of signal to let him know you needed a breather.

This was more than a breather you needed. This was an emergency where you’re a glass sculpture, waiting and begging to be knocked over. You hated being made of glass, regrettably—hated being ogled at in that way. You feel it in the worst form now, being the guest of the most powerful man in the N109 Zone.

Your arm, securely wrapped around his bigger one, shifts back just slightly to tug at his sleeve. It’s not an obvious action, not even to the keen eye like yourself. But it’s enough that you feel the slight jerk, that startles him. To Sylus, this would be a disturbance as little of a fly on someone’s shoulder.

Yet, the air between you two shifts.

Sylus holds a hand up to the two men standing before you both, “Ah—you’ll have to excuse me, gentlemen. I just recalled that I am to assist the security detail with an issue. Please, do enjoy the rest of the evening.”

He leads you away without another word, brushing off the guests.

Vultures. Vultures. Vultures. Every single one of them.

You hold your breath in a subtle manner, your throat constricted. Sylus’ movement is swift and urgent at once, heading towards the back of the ballroom. He opens one of the double doors, ushering you out first before following closely.

It’s just you two now, in this empty, grandeur hall.

You felt sick. You wanted to die. You wanted every fiber of anguish to leave you be and never come back. You never wanted to feel anything again. You wanted to rip your heart out and burn it, to bleed out to death by its side—

—Does any of it matter anymore?

“Little Hunter,” Sylus’ smooth voice cuts through your clogged mind. His hand comes forward, knuckles gently brushing against your cheek, catching stray tears that roll down, “Just focus on me. You’re alright now.”

Oh.

Your eyes widen, your faint breath an overwhelming echo in your head as you come back to yourself. Never before had you seen his eyes so… fond. Gentle. Comforting. It makes you feel sick. You feel the need to lurch and throw up everything you’ve eaten.

Instead, your tears thicken. You blink a few times before lowering your head, pressing the back of your hand against your mouth as you pant heavily. Clawing through your throat is a string of sobs, your body tensing along with it.

Sylus reacts with instinct, his voice lowered as he gently shushed you. His arm wraps around your shoulders, pressing you into his strong torso. To hide you away from the world, to delicately hold your sorrows.

“You’re alright, Little Hunter.” He whispers into the top of your head, lips brushing softly against your hair, “I feel your shame, there’s no need to carry such a thing. I’m not upset.”

You hiccup, pulling away just enough to tilt your head back—looking up at him: “You’re… not?”

A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest. His fingers gently tuck strands of your hair behind your ear, offering you the most warmth he possibly can in this moment. Unfamiliar, but not unappreciated. You’re more grateful than anything, in spite of everything you two had rough edges about.

“Never,” he assures you with a smile. “Not when it comes to you.”

[lunaekalenda]

ALRIGHT BUT CONCUBINE!READER WHO WAS NEVER CHOSEN DUE TO THEIR SHYNESS AND IMPERIAL PRINCE!SYLUS WHO ONLY HAS EYES FOR THEM

for the way you blush when he makes indecent comments, for how you seem to avoid looking directly in his eyes, and for the way he's unable to call any other concubine because no one is as irresistible as you are

i wrote the first part! you can read it here

[iz-star]

Midnight Silence

[milkis-deepspace]

sylus x reader - nsfw sylus headcanons

18+ mdni | sylus x reader

a/n: so this is my first time writing smut,,, uhmm enjoy!

eating his favourite meal

he loves having you sit on his face. when he says “to sit” he means all of your weight. the feeling of eating you out truly feels like it is his favourite meal with the way he attempts to devour you. he licks, slurps, and almost drinks from you. and while his mouth his busy - his hands work up and down to keep you at his mercy. you may be on top - but don’t get it twisted. he is the one in control.

"cmon sweetie, put your entire weight down on me, won't you?" his tongue slobbers all over your pussy, spit and slick missing together on his tongue. his hands are rubbing up and down your body, caressing your legs and wherever else he can reach. he bites your inner thigh, making you gasp out of surprise. he is quick to soothe the bite but even quicker to dive back into your folds. the sounds he makes are obscene and at some point you wonder if he can even breathe.

pace

sylus prefers long sessions. the ones with long foreplay, he loves to tease you verbally but also physically - there’s nothing quite like seeing you all desperately begging for him to take action. when the brat in you has calmed down, and the only thing on your mind is pleasure. but even when sylus gives in to your requests, he does it at his own pace. he’ll start by teasing your neck. licking, kissing, and whispering filthy words to you. drinking in all of your moans, sighs, and pretty noises that manages to escape from you. he marks you, finally letting out the beast inside of him that needs to see physical proof that you belong to him. and while you slowly get drunk on pleasure, he bites at the juncture of your neck, making you moan and putting your hands in his hair. needing something to pull or else you would most certainly go crazy.

but now sylus moves to your breasts, he surprisingly starts out gentle, a big contrast from the biting from beforehand. he uses his fingers and caresses the nipples, swirling them around. he cups your breasts and brings his lips down. with his tongue now licking you, the heat between your legs fires up even more. every moment feels like the sweetest kind of torture - yet you wouldn’t ask for anything else. and sylus knows this clearly as well. he teases around the nipple, never quite touching where you want him to.

“sylus, cmon- ah,” he finally touches your nipple but instead of a gentle touch like you had expected, he bit you. the leash on his ferocity loosened a bit.

“what did you say hm ?” sylus’ tone deepened, the crimson in his eye becoming brighter. in the darkness it was like looking into a blood red moon. you sighed in pleasure, your thoughts filling up with sylus and the devouring look of his. his hands travel down your body, tracing every crevice of yours, and finally reaching down to your folds. sylus is in it for the long game.

in his lap

more often than not, you would end up in sylus’ lap. and now you were seated on his cock. the stretch was so deep and you felt as if the dick reached your throat. it was all-consuming. it was addictive. it was almost too much. keyword almost. with great effort you began to move with sylus’ hands on your hip - effortlessly guiding you.

“cmon kitten, i’m sure you can go much faster,”

“nghh sylus, aah- shut up,”

“now, now, let’s not use such crass words, it wouldn’t be befitting for your pretty mouth to say such words,” tsk! sylus that cocky bastard. if he didn’t want to stay quiet, you would make him shut up.

you moved your hips in circles, up and down, almost dropping yourself on his cock. your hands were on his back scratching whenever his dick hit a spot that made your toes curl. “aah nghh, wait, wait, wait- i’m, i’m not gonna last long sylus,” you moan, lifting your hips up to lessen the pleasure. but before you can take a breath, sylus’ hands pull you down and his dick grinds up in you. trying to search for unknown depths. your hands are on his chest to steady you, but with the fast pace you wrap your hands around his shoulders. your pussy milks him for every last drop he has. bringing your lips together, wrapping your legs around him, and clenching your cunt, you finally give into the pleasure.

[shouyuus]

roll the dice, hit rewind - open character

daughter of a casino mogul reader + orphan/street rat character who’s a hustler/street magician but grows up with reader after running into you in an alleyway. you sneak him back into your casino and he learns to count cards. as a teenager, you even manage to get him a job as one of the table dealers where he becomes one of the most popular attractions, with his dashing looks and heart-rending charm. his innate talent doesn’t go unnoticed, and one day, you wake up to find his casino uniform and a short letter of resignation, telling you that he’s had “an offer he can’t turn down”. you’re hurt, of course you are — you’d promised each other, it was you and him against the world. and yet here he was… leaving you behind.

years later, long after you’d drifted out of each other’s lives and you’d taken over the dark, dirty business that your parents had left behind, now a fearless ice queen of your parents empire, well-known for your deadly intellect and razor-sharp tongue, you meet him again — only, he’s now an fbi agent who specializes in lie detection/deep cover and has been assigned to bust the lucrative black market auction that your parents had been running for years and has just handed over to you.

as you both fall into this dangerous yet tantalizing game of cat and mouse, you both start to realize that neither of you are the naive children you remember each other to be anymore.

[hyperfixationhobo]

I know that when people usually see the whole “Sylus pinning Mc to the wall and his hand is way bigger than the hers and it’s so hot” and stuff but all I can see is Sylus using this to fuck with her in the most annoying way.

Imagine it:

Mc: *Raising up her fist.* “And I swear, if you pick me up like that in front of people again I will sock you!”

Sylus: *stares at MC’s fist before grabbing it and uses it like a gearshift* “Vrooooom vroooooom vrooooom screeeeeeech! Put it in reverse! Vrooooooom vrooooooom!

[beckyelrro]

my luke & kieran design + sylus hc doodles

[letsgauxplay]

hear me out. MC is framed for whatever reason, and now she has a bounty on her head, dead or alive. sylus rescues her from being hunted, and one of the twins suggest Sylus marry MC so she’ll be protected as the first lady of Onichynus. 🫣 *insert other tropes or whatever have you*

ok, 👋

[idorukiss]

Heres a sorta drabble/headcanon kinda thing of how I picture MC's relationship with Zayne could develop~ I'm not much of a writer but i very much plan to do ones for the other boys as well because the brainrot has consumed me, so please enjoy~ 1,039 words || You can also read it on ao3 ‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙

Xavier ・ Rafayel ・ Sylus

You are without a doubt the reason for Zayne's existence and his driving force all through school into becoming a Cardiac Surgeon. And all of that lead up to him finally becoming your personal doctor, everything he studied for is so he can finally fulfill his purpose to help you and your heart

At first, Zayne puts up a wall between you guys- trying his best to keep things as strictly professional as possible. Seeing your face in person again only brought back all the feelings he's boxed away and then some, and he was scared it would somehow come in the way of your treatment.

But he can't hold himself back for long, especially after you find yourself seeing him outside of the hospital more and more often. Going from quick hellos in passing, to checking out new Cafe menu items together, to even showing up at his place unannounced to make sure he isn't working on his day off. Somehow you've worked yourself into his daily life without any effort and everything just feels like that's how it was always meant to be

Of course your own feelings start to develop too, you aren't even sure when they first appeared. Could you have felt this way when you were both kids and didn't realize it till now? Or is it a result of getting closer and seeing so many different sides to him lately?? It all happened so naturally you almost didn't notice it at first until you sat there staring at his profile in the car one night in content silence and it clicked. You love this man with every fiber of your being

Nobody made any moves for the longest time, any plans you guys had made together were seemingly still platonic- much to the groans of those around you who were very aware about both sets of feelings. One night as he is walking you to your apartment door after spending the day together, you mention something coming up- Maybe its another Twinkle Toy's event, or even just a new movie coming out that you are dying to see. But he smiles as he listens to you excitedly talk about it, obviously deciding in that moment he was taking you to it no matter what

"So what time does it start?" "I think the site said 8pm" "Alright then, I'll pick you up at 5pm. Does that work for you?" "Why 5? We don't need to be the first ones to show up you know" He smiles at you "Well I figured it was only right to take you out to dinner first if we were going to be out that late. We don't have to if you don't want to though-" "No, dinner sounds great" you say with the biggest grin "Its a date then" he responds as he lifts up your hand pressing a gentle kiss on it before walking back to the elevator leaving you stunned

Did he just call it a date?! You spend the foreseeable future with your head in the clouds, practically floating with excitement for the date- which goes amazingly once it approaches. It's just like every other time you guys have hung out, but also nothing like it at the same time. He helps you in and out of his car and offers his arm to you while you walk side by side. Every little action he does is seen in a new light. There is no way you could ignore the flips your heart does every time you see his absolutely smitten face- not even aware of your own equally smitten look in return

And any plans from now on have all become official dates as well, with him treating you like an absolute princess the entire time. He never takes that next step forward though, only going as far as holding hands and gazing lovingly at everything you do. It looks like you have to be the one to initiate anything more at this rate

Once again he walks you to your apartment door, and he lingers just a moment before he turns back around and you grab his arm in that moment. Stammering a bit before giving a determined sigh and placing a quick kiss on his cheek. Out of sheer embarrassment you tried to enter your apartment quickly, but its your turn to get stopped. And this time its with his lips crashing onto yours. It was brief, way too brief, but absolutely electric- he apologizes and you shush him and give him the goofiest in love smile before you part ways for the night

Zayne is constantly in battle with himself as to not move too quickly or do anything that you might not be ready for. He usually lets you make the first move, or tests the waters in a way where you can take the lead in whichever direction you are most comfortable. And without a doubt, like with the first kiss you guys shared, as soon as you show him that you are okay with something he won’t hold back (of course always asking permission the next time)

Brief pecks goodnight, turn into deeper kisses in the car before you get out. He grabs your hand every chance he is able to as if its second nature to have your fingers linked between his at any given moment. You only had to invite him inside once at the end of a date before it was a given that after every subsequent date you would spend some time on the couch cuddling and making out before he went back home

Even when things started getting more intimate between you, he always made sure you were the one making the first move and continued with caution- always getting your consent before doing anything. It was touching knowing he cared so much about you, but sometimes you wished he would just stop holding back and have his way. There's nothing he could do that you would say no to at this point, you love and trust him with your entire being

You wouldn't change anything between you guys. You are Zayne's entire world, and he has easily become yours as well

[lara635kookie]

What if Sylus is a half Wanderer/any other kind of monstrous creature that escaped from Philo? What if he can't die or only die in a very specific way, so Philo kept him incarcerated instead of just killing him and that's how he became Philo's most wanted criminal? We know 28 years old is his real age, because if it wasn't, it would probably be stated like Xavier's "age unknown, fake age 23" so what if Sylus was a new monster, transformed pretty recently, saw his kind being decimated by Philo for some reason and he is now the only one left and swore revenge on them and that's why he did all he did in his anedoctes stories? What if he's on Earth to mess up with Philo's plan for it? What if whatever Philo wants, Sylus finds it first and tortures them with it until they beg for mercy but at the end doesn't give them because it's also useful to him? What if the thing in his eyes is not an aether core but something else that is similar? Because when MC directly asks if he has an aether core in his eyes and that's why he can do that glowy thingy he says:"you could say that" which to me sounded like one of those vague ass answers that neither confirms or denies shit. So what if there's only one aether core in the world? Even BETTER, it's probably MC's Aether Core that Philo and now Sylus wants, so what if Sylus realizes he can't have the aether core and MC and to have one the other has to go? What if he had to choose between having the aether core with its power full on the palm of his hands to fulfill his complete revenge on Philo and maybe some other personal goals or MC's life because you can't freaking have both? I remember I said a while ago that Sylus doesn't have trauma, he is the one that causes trauma. So what if I was fucking wrong? What if I can handle MORE angst? What if I want Sylus to give it to me just like the others have been doing? What if all of it happens? What of any of this never happens? So many questions, no answers at all

[dirty-spiced-chai]

my voice dubbed in a moment with a dragon ♡

I COULD USE A STRETCH

spoilers // SYLUS abyssal mark