#lnds xavier fanfic

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

Back against the wall

Masterlist Word count: 4.3 k Xavier x Fem!Reader (Established relationship) Collage!AU - Everyone is included, everyone is similar ages, anything to make this story work.

Summary: Each year before summer break the whole campus plays a game called "Murder." The rules are simple. Everyone who signed up gets a plastic dagger with the name of their targed on it. You kill that person and get their dagger until two people are left. Last time you made it in the top three, this year you're determined to win. And your boyfriend Xavier is determined to make sure you don't.

Author's note: I did a similar story 6 years ago as a 9 Percent fanfic and I remembered how much fun I had writing that. It's terrible though, but you can find it here if you want to read it. To be honest, this story is shit but I wanted to take a break from my Sylus fic sooooo... I hope its readable :)

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences.

Mature content under the cut.

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

Ah, summertime. Weeks of freedom ahead of you and sunshine on your face. No homework, no assignments, no strict professors, and no classes. Just the soft breeze in your hair and hours to waste. Truly a moment of magical bliss in the life of a college student. 

But the year has not ended yet. No, no, no. For the year to truly end there must be a bloodbath first. Not in the literal sense, in the sense of a game called Murder. 

Rules are simple. You sign up if you want to play, if you sign up you get a plastic dagger with the name of your target. If you kill said target you will get their dagger and so on and so forth until one person is left standing. The matches are always made meticulously by a group that organizes it each year and sends out mass updates during. That's why you sign up before the winter holidays. 

Exceptions and rules to the game besides that you obviously cannot throw your dagger at your target.  

Number 1, no freshmen allowed. This is due to the terrible anxiety crisis of 2018 which caused the games to be postponed until the next year. Stories still go around about some poor kid that pissed their pants because they were too scared to venture outside their dorm. Ever since the rule has been that you have to experience the game as a bystander before you can join. 

Number 2, no violence allowed. This excludes traps in which you corner someone. It includes holding someone in place, though you are allowed to do so for thirty seconds. Longer than that and you're disqualified. 

Number 3, naked people and sleeping people get immunity. This is to ensure people can still go the bathroom and sleep without fearing for their "life", though some people use this rule and just walk around in a towel all day. 

Number 4, dorm hallways are free game, dorm rooms and school building are not. As soon as someone gets past the door of their dorm room, a friend's dorm room, a stranger's dorm room they are safe. The school building is a safe zone because some people still need to study or hand stuff in and professors don't want to be bothered with murder politics. Though some do request updates occasionally. Some of them are even in the group chat that updates on the game each night. 

Number 5, it's just a game so if you start to feel anxiety, just get stabbed. This does not mean to just go stand in the grass square between the dorm buildings and school building waiting for your murderer. It means sending a text to the comity that makes the murder game possible each year and tell them you'd like to surrender. They will send your murdered a message to come get your dagger. No one minds it because it's basically a free kill. 

Number 6, the game is only played on campus. Any murders off school grounds lead to a disqualification. Your murdered will get a free kill and you are disqualified from playing next year. 

And last but not least, the latest addition to the rules, number 7. If you and your partner both play you are not allowed to team up. Every couple that plays the game is "broken up" until the game is over. If you do team up, you are disqualified. 

Oh, and you have to send a text to the organizers when you get killed about how you got killed and by who so they can keep track of who is still in the game. 

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

You are excited to say the least. Last year you made it to the top three. It was you, your friend Sylus, and your boyfriend Xavier. Sylus managed to kill you while you were making your way to Xavier to kill him. When you called him to inform him of the news, he wanted to come avenge you, but Sylus got him first. 

The other reason you're excited is because you managed to get everyone in your friend group to join. Even Zayne, who "doesn't usually bother with menial, childish games" seemed the slightest bit excited in his own way. 

Tonight is the night. At around 2 am, someone on your floor screams bloody murder and you know it's begun. You run to your door to see the plastic dagger left in front of it. With an evil grin, you pick it up and look at the name scribbled on it with black marker. 

Jeremiah. Oh, this is going to be good. 

Not only is Jeremiah your friend, he also lives on your floor in the dorm across from yours. And not only that, he is standing in front of you, the door to his dorm on the other side of the hallway opened as he looks out onto the floor with sleepy eyes. 'Did it start,' he asks you. 

'It did,' you almost squeal, 'help me unscrew the lightbulbs.' This is a tactic you also used last year. Very effective for stealth. You also taped a garbage bag to the glass door leading to your floor so that no one can see anyone coming. Last year it was such a success that people started copying you. This year, you can already see a few of the other people on your floor unscrewing lightbulbs on the other end of the hallway. 

Jeremiah picks up his dagger from the floor and sighs loudly when he reads the name. 'I'm certainly getting killed before I manage this,' he grumbles to himself while he shuffles back inside to get a chair for you to stand on.  

He's back seconds later and I climb onto the chair. When we get to about halfway down the hall, you take your dagger out of your pocket and push the tip against his shoulder. 'Got you,' you muse. He looks up at you with wide eyes. 

'You have got to be fucking kidding me.' You show him your dagger with his name on it. He lets out another loud sigh and hands over his dagger. 'Stabbed in the back by one of my best friends. At least you get what you deserve.' 

'Oh come on, better to be killed by me than Sylus or Luke or Kieran or-' I sum up while I wave his dagger in the air until my eyes land on the name written on it. 

'Yeah, yeah, I get it,' he snaps at you a little annoyed, 'I just hoped to survive the first night for once.' 

'You got Sylus,' I whisper scream at him, 'what the fuck?' 

He shrugs. 'They were probably giving me a fighting chance. You know he likes to watch the chaos on the square the first night. He's not nearly as alert the first night.' 

'A fighting chance? And they gave me your name?' He shrugs again. 

'I don't know. But you better go get him now, ‘cause you won't be able to later.' 

Well, you can only hope and pray now. You head back into your dorm and slip on your sneakers. 'Are you joining me outside Jeremiah,' you call out to him. 

'Wouldn't want to miss it.' 

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

First night is always a bloodbath. In hopes of using the chaos from the game starting, tons of people leave their dorms to find their targets and get a few cheap kills in. You are no different, but it seems you are in the murder spirits good graces today. 

The second you step out of your dorm building you are faced with Sylus’ back. To be fair, no one but you and a few of your friends would be bold enough to kill Sylus on the very first night. He won his very first year playing in a legendary way so he is basically in the hall of fame. Most people give him grace on the first night, but not you. You are playing to win this time. 

So you head up to him, dagger in hand, and wrap your arm around his waist in a friendly manner. The dagger in your hand rests on his waist in a way that he can't quite see it. He looks down at you, a bit shocked, but smiles when he sees it's you and puts his arm around you. You and Sylus have always been a touchy feely type of friends. Both of you are severely touch starved (even though Xavier clings to you like a koala) and spend days and nights cuddling if you get the chance so he doesn't think anything of it. 

Then, you turn your hand and press the tip of your dagger against his leg. 'Cough up your dagger, bird boy.' His eyes flicker to the dagger pressed against his leg, to you with the utmost disgust and disbelief in his eyes. 

'That's foul,' he states. 

'All is fair in love and war,' you tease. He rolls his eyes. That's exactly what he had said to you last year when he killed you. He hands you his dagger and you read the name on it. 'Are you kidding,' you groan, 'Rafayel? Really?' 

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

Murder update: The first night was a bloody one, bloodier than ever before. Last night 104 out of 306 people were slain. In a twisting turn of events, grand champion Sylus was slain only half an hour into the game. A video was submitted of the murder occurring. He was slain by last year's number 3.  Top 3 kill count:  -Jenna (7)  -Rafayel (13)  -Xavier (19)  The game ends next Saturday when the clock strikes midnight.  Happy hunting! 

Of course, Rafayel is number 2 on the list. You hear he has to leave tonight because his art is being shown at some fancy gallery. He probably went ahead and tried to kill as many people as he could because he has nothing to lose. 

That being said, the man's not stupid. He'd see you coming from miles away. Rafayel is a little shit and he knows people enjoy killing him in this game. He's got eyes in the back of his head in the form of Thomas. No one really knows if the two truly get along but they seem to stick together most of the time. 

So you use your secret weapon. 

Simone. 

There are many, many pretty girls on campus. But there's pretty girls and then there's Simone. Men swarm her each and every day and you just happen to know that Thomas also has a weak spot for her. Oh, if people only knew she's a raging lesbian. (this is my head canon, shut up) 

And your plan works perfectly. While Thomas tries to chat up Simone at the main entrance of the dorms, Rafayel waits impatiently for him to finish and help with his bags. That's where you come in. 

'Hey Raf, are you already leaving?' He turns to you and smiles. You doubt he even cares about getting murdered anymore, but he'd be damned if it happened in a stupid way. 

'I'm trying to, but Thomas is busy,' he complains and then turns to you very sweetly, 'could you-' 

'What do I get out of it,' you question as you cross your arms before he can even finish his question. He sighs and rolls his eyes, dramatic as ever. 

'I don't know, what do you want?' 

'Bring me back a fridge magnet?' 

'You and your fridge magnets,' he sighs loudly, 'fiiine~. Now come on, I'm gonna be late.' He turns around to grab one of his bags. 

'Oh, just one more thing,' you note, as you take out your dagger. When he turns around, you push it against his stomach. 'You're dead.' 

'I knew it would be you,' he groans, 'gods, my reputation will never recover.' 

'You'll be fine crybaby. Now hand over the goods and I'll help you to your car.' 

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

Things progress rapidly after that. You kill over thirty people in the span of a few days, yet you still haven't gotten Xavier's name on your dagger like you wanted to. And then Wednesday comes around... Date night... And you've got a text from Xavier. 

Xavier: "Are we still doing date night?" 

You: "I think we'd better not." 

Xavier: "That's unfair. I miss you... :(" 

You: "You miss having sex with me." 

Xavier: "That too, but I haven't seen you for days." 

You: "Fiiiiine, we'll go get pizza off campus. Leave the daggers at home?" 

Xavier: "Deal." 

You've got a bad feeling about this and said bad feeling doesn't go away, even when the date is long over and you're walking back to the dorms together hand in hand. 'We should probably spit up before we get disqualified,' you suggest. Xavier nods as he reaches into his coat pocket. Your eyes go wide as you realize what he is probably going to grab. 'Oh you are a terrible human being.' 

A glint of amusement sparks in his eye, his hand still holding yours tightly to keep you in place while you start trying to get away. 'You get two minutes,' he tells you in a chilling voice, but there's something else in there. Something darker. Something sexual. 

You push yourself against him, your free hand on his chest. 'You're enjoying this, aren't you?' He nods. 'Maybe we should do something with that when all this is over,' you say in a sultry voice. He nods again and dips down to press a kiss on your lips. Your whole body tingles as you feel his semi hard on press against you. 

And then he lets go of your hand and you fucking run. You run so fucking fast, but you know that Xavier is faster. He always has been, always will be. However, you've got a plan for that. It's not that late and the sun is still setting, that means there's people on the grass square enjoying the evening. 

You're going to use Xavier's jealousy against him and undress in the middle of the square. 

When you get there, you turn around and see Xavier quickly gaining on you. You start taking off clothes. First your jacket, then you kick off your shoes, and when you get to pushing down your shorts, Xavier is already stopped a few meters away from you. 

'Please don't undress,' he begs you quietly. You see his cheeks and ears turn a faint shade of pink. You've won. 

'Why? I want to stay alive,' you say in the most naïve voice you can muster up. Xavier's eyes start darting around the people watching the scene unfold. A few people have their cameras out so they can update everyone on what's happening. 

'I don't want all these people to see you naked,' he admits, his tone low and almost growling, 'your body is for my eyes only. I'll give you a free pass if you don't undress.' 

'That might be the very first time you've ever said that to me,' you gleam. You've fucking won! Whoop, whoop! 'Promise to stay here until I get inside the building?' He nods. 'Say it.' 

Suddenly, his ears go bright red and his blush is much more prominent. Seems you've found another thing to try when all this is over. 'I promise.' 

'Good,' you smile, 'and if you do move, I am taking off my shirt and showing everyone your favorite bra.' 

'Seriously?' 

'Yeah, I thought I better be prepared for betrayal.' He shakes his head with a laugh. Reason why your relationship works so well is because you know how to relax together but you are also damn competitive when it matters. He knows you'll do anything to win this game because he'd do anything to win this game. Nothing about your threat is bluff. He'll take defeat for now. 

'Go ahead.' 

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

And suddenly it's Saturday. 

When Xavier gave you a free pass, you avoided him like the fucking plague and started meticulously working down your list of victims until you got to his name. After Wednesday not many people were left which made your work a whole lot easier. 

Rafayel gave you Kieran, who was pretty much done with the game after his twin brother Luke got killed. Normally they'd be extremely competitive but not when the other is out, so when you stabbed him he almost looked happy. 

That's how you got Zayne who you simply bumped into on the way to the library, so that was the end of his streak. Not that he really cared, it was his first time playing and he had decided it was not for him. 

Zayne gave you Thomas, so you got Simone to talk to him again and got him real easy. Sadly, he gave you Jenna who you figured was going to be a problem. But a little birdy told you that she had Xavier's dagger, so you walked to his dorm building and found her camping out in a corner. She hadn't seen you yet, so it was a fairly easy kill. She wasn't happy though. You need to keep an eye on her next year for sure. 

And now you've got Xavier's dagger again and it is, once again, date night. At this point you shouldn't be this gullible and believe him once more when he promised to leave his dagger at home. 

And you didn't, but you brought yours with no intention of using it. 

See, let's all be very frank about this, Xavier and you fuck like bunnies. At least six days per week and twice almost half of those days. Only reason you haven't this past week is because of the game. Because both of you are competitive motherfuckers and one of you would stab the other the fucking second either of you would leave the dorm room clothed.  

He is fucking pent up and you are too, so you decided you are going to offer him something he can't refuse. Something you usually push away from because it's a little uncomfortable for you. Only because you know you're going to get feral Xavier out of it and if there's something you need right the fuck now, it's feral Xavier. 

So here you are once more, walking back to campus hand in hand. Smiling, talking, stealing kisses like the whole game isn't going on and you two aren't the only ones still playing. 

'So what do we do when we get back to campus,' Xavier asks. You look at him with feigned surprise. 

'I thought we said we'd leave our daggers in our dorm,' you say. A mischievous smirk spreads on Xavier's lips. The tension rises. 

'Really? I guess I forgot again.' You let go of his hand and hit his shoulder, trying to look angry while this is all, truly, going exactly as planned. 

'You dick! You were planning on killing me!' 

'As Sylus would say, all is fair in love and war,' he muses, 'and we are both very much in love and at war.' You pull on his arm to stop him from walking further and push yourself against his chest, making sure to look up at him with the biggest doe eyes you can muster up. 

'If you love me, you'll give me a five-minute head start.' 

'What do I get out of it,' he asks with a grin. 

'I'll let you do me against a wall.' His eyes widen ever so slightly and there's a little twitch of his dick against your abdomen. The tension grows as you watch him look down at your lips and back up to your eyes. You can practically see his mind race behind his eyes as he weighs his options. 

'Fuck it. Deal.' And you take off as fast as you can. 

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

One more hour. 

You have one more hour to kill Xavier, but no one seems to know where he is. All your confidantes have gone dark, which makes sense. About ten minutes ago the murder game committee send a mass text that no one is to help Xavier or me to keep it a fair game. You still tried to contact people though. Couldn't hurt to try.  

Sadly, all your friends are squares and so you have to venture out into the dark hallway outside your dorm. Turning off all those lights suddenly seems like the stupidest idea you've ever had. Until you hear something.  

It's Xavier's distinctive humming. 

He came here to kill you when you leave your dorm room, but he seems unaware that you've just left. Normally, you watch a show around this hour so he might think you are watching that and you'll leave after it finishes. Seeing that it's 11 pm, your show would've ended in ten minutes. 

You quickly press yourself against the wall and sneak up to the corner he has to come around to get to your dorm. The second he appears in your sight, you stab him. In the darkness you can just make out how utterly shocked he looks, but then... something shifts and he smirks. 

'Thank fuck,' he says breathlessly and presses his lips against yours, pressing you against the wall. He gently pushes his dagger in your hand and picks you up like you weigh nothing. 'I swear I would've died if this went on any longer.' 

With his quick strides, it takes mere seconds to get you into your dorm room and the door locked. He presses you up against the wall again, pushing down your sweatpants with urgency. The hunger in his kisses makes you think he was close to dying. His hands are everywhere on your body, overwhelming your senses. You didn't even notice he took his shirt off and your sweatpants are completely off.  

His hands move to the back of your thighs, lifting you up against the wall. Your hands are on his shoulders, pulling him impossibly close. He thought he was the only one missing the closeness, but your ragged breath and lust filled eyes tell him otherwise. 

'I missed you so much, Bunny,' he groans as he ruts against you, his jeans providing delicious friction to your clothed clit. An almost guttural moan escapes you. He grins against the skin of your shoulder and suddenly bites down. Not enough to break skin, but more than enough to show. The tingling in your body goes on overdrive and you can't think anymore. 

'Please, please, Xavier, please,' you beg him, not even sure what you're begging for but if it involves his dick inside you, you'll be alright. He quickly unzips his pants and takes his dick out of his boxers, no time to take anything else off. He just needs to be inside you right now. 

Xavier pushes into you, and you gasp. Normally, you can take him well, but it's been a week and it's a stretch now. As feral as Xavier is, he does take his time with you. In the end you're still his girlfriend and he doesn't want to hurt you without consent. Inch by inch he sinks into you, treasuring every little sound that comes out of your mouth like it's the most beautiful song ever written. 

You feel the uneven wall start scratching your back when Xavier sets a pace but at this point you don't care. Your nails are digging into his back as you try to hold onto him. His eyes are focused on you, looking at you like you're a painting. Then, he kisses you feverishly and quickens his pace. 

He pounds into you relentlessly, the kisses on your lips have moved to your neck and shoulder along with love bites and a desperate attempt to leave as many hickeys as he can. You are trying to do the same, missing the way either of you always has a few "bruises" on your body. 

Together, you dance towards the edge of pleasure. One of his hands moves to your bundle of nerves to help you get closer to your shared goal. It's all too much and you do something you've never done before. 

You bite his shoulder. He groans, a combination of pain and pleasure washing over him. His lips leave your shoulder and slot back onto yours in a fight of teeth and tongues, edging close and closer and closer until you both fall over in a chorus of groans, moans, screams of either's names, far too loud to be appropriate in a dorm building. Neither of you cares though. 

His hips snap against you a few more times. Sloppy, uncoordinated, passionate. Your brain is a mess and all you know is that you want to go again. And again. And again. Slowly, your breathing steadies, Xavier's hips still and slips out of you, the mixture of your fluids dripping down your thighs. 

He presses a loving kiss to your forehead. 'Thank you so much, bunny. Go lay down, I'll clean you up.' Lucky for you, you are one of the few people with a sink in your room that has warm water. You lay down on the bed while he takes a towel, dampens it with warm water and helps you clean up. 

'We should take a shower together later,' you tell him, stretching your arms above your head to soften the strain on your muscles. 

'If you're offering,' he teases. 

And suddenly there's a knock on the door, pulling both of you out of your little world. Xavier checks his phone and shows it to you. 00:00. The game is over. 

Fast as you both can, you get dressed again and you open the door to see a few of your friends and others that are curious about the results standing outside. Maybe a little too fast as you feel all their gazes on your neck. Xavier looks down at his handywork and sighs. 

'She won,' he announces, hoping it'll pull the attention off of your state. But the group stays quiet. There's a strange lull over the whole thing. Until, suddenly, Kieran speaks up. 

'THEY BEEN FUCKING!' 

Both you and Xavier look at him with fury in your eyes. Sylus, standing next to Kieran, lets out a laugh and nudges him. 

'You're going to get murdered for real. Better start running.'

[mephisto-reporting]

Jealousy, Jealousy with Sylus

Plot: Reader becomes jealous of Sylus and MC's closeness, distancing herself and seeking comfort in another LI. Sylus notices her growing distance and takes action. Based on this request. Pairing: Sylus x Non MC reader Content Warning: Insecurities, injuries, mention of blood, jealousy, angst, hurt/comfort Note: Reader is not the MC of the game. I think I got quite carried away writing this because I am a sucker for angst. [ A disclaimer note - Please be respectful of the request ]

The faint hum of the air condition echoed through the Onychinus base, its opulent, luxurious atmosphere doing little to distract from the knot twisting in your stomach. You stood across from Luke and Kieran, their crow masks tilted slightly as if to gauge your reaction.

"Boss isn't here today," Luke said casually, his hands tucked into his pockets. "He’s in Linkon, Boss man’s got other things to handle."

Kieran, his mask tilted slightly to the side, gave a confused grunt. "But I thought he was meeting with her...?"

Luke raised a brow, correcting him. "No, no, he was meeting with Miss Hunter."

Miss Hunter.

The words hit you like a sledgehammer, even though they shouldn’t have. You were a hunter too, an informant who had been feeding Sylus critical intel on the association’s movements for two years now. But she was different. Special.

Captain Jenna’s star pupil, with her rare Anhaunsen-class Resonance Evol, was someone Sylus had spent weeks trying to connect with, both literally and emotionally. You weren’t blind to the necessity of it; resonating with her was crucial for his goals, ones he hadn’t entirely shared with you but that you trusted him to pursue.

Trusted him. Loved him.

You forced a tight smile. "Thanks for the update. I'll let you two get back to it."

Luke and Kieran exchanged a glance, but you were already walking away, the echo of your boots swallowed by the hum of the base.

The ride back to Linkon was supposed to clear your mind. It didn’t.

The cool wind whipped against your face, but all it did was sting the tears pooling in your eyes. The road stretched endlessly ahead, yet the pressure in your chest only grew. Sylus hadn’t seen you in two months. Two months of unanswered calls and messages reduced to half-hearted responses when they came at all.

You understood why he was focused on her. She was crucial to his plans. She was everything you weren’t: poised, pretty, powerful, and, most importantly, someone he needed.

But understanding didn’t make it hurt any less.

The world blurred around you as your thoughts spiraled. You had always known your place in Sylus’ life. You were the informant, the quiet insider who helped him stay two steps ahead of the hunters. Somewhere along the way, though, you had fallen for him. For the man who wasn’t as cold and calculated as others believed. It had been two long years since you started working with Sylus. Two years filled with secrecy, lies, and hidden truths. But over those years, you'd found yourself tangled in emotions for him that you couldn’t shake. Sylus, with his cold authority, his dangerous smile, his complex nature… He was all you could think about. He wasn’t as dismissive as people thought. He had a way of looking at you when no one was watching—a fleeting softness that you cherished, even if you couldn’t be certain if it was real.

And now, it felt like you were losing him.

Your bike screeched to a halt near Meow’s Café. You hadn’t planned to stop, but the sight of the familiar storefront tugged at you. Perhaps a coffee and a moment to breathe would help.

The glass windows glinted under the midday sun, and your breath hitched as you looked inside.

Sylus was there. With her.

They sat at a small table, a deck of Kitty cards spread between them. He was leaning back, his smirk in full display as she laughed at something he said. It was the kind of laugh that reached her eyes, the kind of moment you had only ever dreamed of sharing with him.

You froze, your hands tightening on your helmet.

For a fleeting second, you wanted to march inside and demand answers. To ask him why he had time to play cards but couldn’t return your calls. To tell him how his absence had hollowed you out.

But you didn’t.

He looks so happy... you thought bitterly, swallowing the lump in your throat.

The truth gnawed at you. Every interaction, every ignored message, every unread notification on your phone—it was because of her. Because Sylus had more important things to do. She was the one who mattered now. She was the one who he had to resonate with, had to bond with, had to make fall for him.

And you? You were just a pawn, a tool—forgotten. And there you were. Alone. Watching through a window, the warmth of the cafe contrasting the cold, empty feeling in your stomach. He hadn’t even bothered to let you know he was back. He was with her. You couldn’t bear to watch any longer, but you couldn’t look away either. It felt like the world was spinning faster than you could catch up, and you were left stranded, dizzy, and abandoned.

Instead, you turned away, your chest tight and vision blurred. The world felt suffocating, the weight of your unspoken feelings dragging you down as you climbed back onto your bike.

It was for the best, right?

You couldn’t keep doing this. You couldn’t keep waiting for him, couldn’t keep fooling yourself that there was something real between you two. He was busy. He had her. And you.. well, you didn’t even know why you bothered anymore.

The ride back to your apartment was a blur of taillights and muffled engine noise. The city’s glow that usually brought you some sense of comfort felt glaring and alien tonight. By the time you made it inside, the suffocating silence of your small space was overwhelming.

For someone who prided herself on being strong and independent, you barely made it to your couch before the sobs overtook you. Hot, angry tears streamed down your face as you clutched a pillow to your chest, trying in vain to keep your cries muffled. It felt as though something within you had been ripped apart, leaving an aching, hollow void that throbbed with every thought of him.

You replayed the image of him at the café in your mind, over and over, as if some part of you wanted to punish yourself further. His smirk. Her laughter. The ease of their interaction. It contrasted so sharply with the heaviness that now weighed on your heart.

Every chime of your phone made you flinch, hope briefly sparking to life, only to be cruelly snuffed out when the screen lit up with messages from others—work updates, pointless notifications, or friends checking in. Nothing from him. Of course, there wouldn’t be.

You wiped at your face, your chest tightening as you scrolled through the last few conversations you’d had with Sylus. They were short, clipped responses. A "thanks" here, an "I’m busy" there. You’d convinced yourself for weeks that he wasn’t brushing you off, that his focus was just elsewhere. But deep down, you knew. You’d always known.

You weren’t as important to him as he was to you.

That realization settled over you like a heavy blanket, suffocating and final. And yet, you tried to convince yourself it was okay. He doesn’t owe me anything, you told yourself, though the thought only twisted the knife deeper. He’s free to choose who he spends his time with.

But it didn’t stop the tears.

The days that followed were a haze of exhaustion and numbness. You threw yourself into your work, spending long hours tracking and confronting wanderers. The physical exhaustion helped, even if just a little. At least when you were in the middle of a fight, the pain in your chest was drowned out by the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Still, the nights were the worst. Alone in your apartment, the quiet crept in like a suffocating fog. You tried to distract yourself—reading, cleaning, even organizing old mission reports. Anything to keep your mind from drifting back to him. But it was impossible.

Each time you saw his name in your contacts, you hesitated. Your thumb hovered over the call button more times than you cared to admit, but the fear of hearing his indifferent voice stopped you every time. What would you even say? That you missed him? That you wanted to see him? That you’d fallen for him, even though you knew it would never be mutual?

No. You couldn’t do that to yourself.

You worked harder, pushed yourself further. Every wanderer you fought became a stand-in for your frustrations, your insecurities. You told yourself that if you could just stay busy enough, the ache would go away. But no matter how many missions you completed or how many late nights you spent staring at your phone, the weight in your chest never fully lifted.

By the end of the week, you were exhausted—physically and emotionally. But you were surviving. Barely. The bell above the door jingled softly as you pushed into the chocolatier’s shop, the rich scent of cocoa and vanilla wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The day had been grueling—hours of chasing leads, a narrow escape from a particularly aggressive wanderer, and not a single bite of food since morning. Your stomach growled in protest, a sharp reminder that you’d been running on fumes for too long.

Rows of meticulously crafted chocolates gleamed beneath the glass counter, their perfect swirls and shimmering finishes almost too beautiful to eat. Almost. You leaned forward slightly, scanning the display, your reflection ghosting over the pristine surface.

Dark chocolate truffles. Raspberry ganache. Caramel hazelnut clusters. The options were overwhelming, and your indecision felt heavier than it should’ve. Your chest still ached from the lingering emotions you’d been suppressing all week. The quiet joy of the shop felt alien, like stepping into a world you no longer belonged to.

Just pick something and go, you thought, your fingers tightening on the strap of your bag. But the choices seemed endless, each one whispering promises of sweetness you weren’t sure you deserved.

"If you’re struggling," a soft, measured voice spoke behind you, "the pistachio crème chocolate is an excellent choice."

Startled, you turned, your gaze falling on a man standing a few steps away. Tall and lean, he exuded an understated confidence that was both intimidating and captivating. Dark hair fell in against his forehead, and sharp hazel-green eyes, softened by gold flecks peered at you from behind thin-framed glasses. His white doctor’s coat was open, revealing a simple black shirt beneath, and he held a small paper bag in one hand.

You blinked, caught off guard by both his suggestion and his presence. "Oh, uh… thank you," you stammered, trying not to sound as flustered as you felt. "I’ll… I’ll try that."

The shopkeeper nodded and carefully packed your selection as you stole another glance at the stranger. There was an air of calm authority about him, a quiet assurance that made you feel oddly exposed, like he could see straight through you.

He waited patiently as the shopkeeper handed you your bag, but just as you were about to leave, his voice cut through the quiet again—this time, more direct. "Chocolates shouldn’t be your first meal of the day."

The statement was delivered without malice, his tone stoic and matter-of-fact, yet it hit like a stone to the chest. Your lips parted in shock, the question forming before you could stop it: How does he know? But before you could say anything, he was already moving toward the door. The bells jingled softly as it closed behind him, leaving you standing frozen in place. The stranger’s words lingered, intertwining with the rest of your messy emotions. Your fingers clenched the small bag of chocolates as you tried to process the brief encounter.

A soft gleam on the floor caught your attention, breaking your spiraling thoughts. A wallet, its sleek leather worn but well-kept, lay just inches from where the man had stood. You knelt and picked it up, your heart thudding as you opened it to check for identification.

The name embossed on his hospital ID was like a jolt: Dr. Zayne. Your eyes widened. Doctor Zayne? The name was familiar—a renowned surgeon whose skills and precision were legendary, often described as a miracle worker. You’d imagined someone older, more weathered, not… this.

For a moment, you stared at the ID, piecing together the puzzle of the composed, enigmatic man who had called you out so effortlessly. You tried the number listed on a card tucked into his wallet, but it rang unanswered, the sterile monotone only adding to your frustration.

"Of course, he wouldn’t answer," you muttered under your breath, chewing your lip as you debated your next move. The idea of keeping his wallet overnight felt wrong, and leaving it here in the shop seemed equally careless.

That left one option.

The hospital loomed ahead as you approached, its towering structure illuminated against the evening sky. Anxiety gnawed at your insides, twisting with every step you took through the sterile white halls. You weren’t sure why you felt so on edge—maybe it was the overwhelming sense of inadequacy that had been haunting you lately, or maybe it was the lingering impression of Zayne’s knowing gaze.

At the reception desk, you hesitated, gripping the wallet tightly as you cleared your throat. "Hi, um, I’m here to return something for Dr. Zayne. He… accidentally dropped this."

The receptionist barely looked up, taking the wallet with a polite but indifferent smile. "Dr. Zayne isn’t in right now. I’ll make sure he gets this when he’s back."

"Oh," You nodded, murmuring a quick thanks before retreating back toward the exit. You thought nothing of this interaction as you left. You did what you thought was right and left the hospital back towards your apartment.

The days blurred together in a haze of work and routine. You buried yourself in assignments from the Hunter’s Association, throwing yourself into dangerous missions with a single-minded intensity. Anything to keep your mind occupied.

Sylus messaged you once during that time, his tone professional as he asked for updates regarding a lead he was tracking. You’d responded quickly, sticking strictly to business. No pleasantries, no banter—just the information he needed. He didn’t press, didn’t call you out for your uncharacteristic coldness. Maybe he didn’t notice. Or maybe he did and chose not to say anything.

That night, you jogged through the dimly lit streets, your breath fogging in the cool air as you tried to exorcise the restless energy gnawing at you. The rhythmic slap of your sneakers against the pavement was grounding, steady. Jogging had always been your go-to, a way to clear your head and silence the endless stream of "what-ifs" and "if-onlys" that plagued your mind.

But no amount of movement could completely shake Sylus from your thoughts.

His voice, his presence—it clung to you, even now.

Why didn’t he ask how I’ve been? Why didn’t I?

You shook your head, annoyed at yourself. There was no point in dwelling. Sylus wasn’t the kind of person to give you what you wanted, and even if he did, could you trust it? Could you trust him?

The sound of skidding tires yanked you out of your spiraling thoughts.

“Look out!”

Before you could process the warning, a cyclist veered wildly toward you, their momentum too strong to stop. There wasn’t even time to brace yourself. The impact hit like a freight train, and suddenly, you were on the ground, tangled with the bike and its rider. Pain blossomed sharp and hot in your knees as the asphalt scraped them raw.

For a moment, you just lay there, stunned. The world tilted unsteadily, the city lights smearing together like a watercolor painting.

“Hey, you okay?” The cyclist’s voice snapped you back. They were scrambling off you, helmet slightly askew but otherwise unscathed. You shook your head to clear it, wincing as you sat up. You pushed yourself up, shaking the dizziness from your head, and checked on the cyclist who had crashed into you. They were already scrambling to their feet, looking slightly dazed but otherwise unharmed, their helmet and guards having done their job.

“I’m fine,” you managed, even as your knees throbbed in protest. “Are you?”

“Yeah, thanks to the gear,” they said, pulling off their helmet to inspect a small crack along its surface. “Guess it did its job.”

Relief washed over you. “Good. Let me just—”

“Wait.” A different voice cut in, firm but calm. You stood there, still trying to regain your bearings when a figure appeared beside you, moving with a grace that immediately caught your attention. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw who it was. Dr. Zayne. The same man who had crossed your path in the chocolatier's shop just days ago. His sharp eyes locked onto yours, and for a split second, everything else seemed to vanish. His expression shifted from mild surprise to something more concerned as he took in your state.

Without saying a word, he immediately began assessing you, his gaze narrowing at the blood now staining your knees. You winced, feeling the sting of the cuts that had begun to bloom with a fiery intensity, but you were determined not to show it. You were used to pain—used to the sharp discomfort that came with being a hunter. You didn’t need help. You could handle this on your own. You’d always been able to.

But Dr. Zayne wasn’t having any of it.

His voice, low and steady, broke through the haze of your thoughts. "You’re bleeding. Those need first aid," he said firmly, his frown deepening as he glanced at your scraped knees. "Sit. Wait here. I’ll be back in a minute."

You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him you were fine, but the words caught in your throat. He wasn’t asking. His tone, though gentle, was authoritative—demanding in its own quiet way. There was something about the way he carried himself, that calm, unflinching presence, that made it impossible to argue.

"I’m fine, I am a hunter." you managed to say, your voice rougher than you intended. "I can handle it at home. Really." You tried to force a reassuring smile

“Is this a hunter thing?” he interrupted, one brow arching skeptically. “Are all of you this stubborn about basic care, or is it just you?”

The words should have been biting, but his tone was almost... patient. Like he was accustomed to dealing with difficult people.

You flushed, suddenly hyper-aware of the sting in your knees and the heat of his gaze. “I’m not being stubborn,” you muttered. “I just don’t want to bother anyone over something so small.”

“Small injuries have a way of turning into bigger problems,” he said, folding his arms. “And I’m not bothered. As a doctor, I’m asking you to wait here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Without waiting for your protest, he turned and strode off, leaving you no room to argue.

You sat stiffly on the bench, gripping the edge as the minutes dragged on. The ache in your knees was nothing compared to the gnawing discomfort blooming in your chest. Anxiety clawed at you, whispering insidious doubts.

He’s wasting his time on you.He probably thinks you’re pathetic and weak.Why couldn’t you have just gotten up and left?

Your fingers curled into fists, the tension radiating through your body.

The sound of footsteps interrupted your spiraling thoughts, and Dr. Zayne was back, carrying a small first aid kit. He knelt in front of you without a word, his hands steady as he cleaned the cuts on your knees. The gentle pressure of his fingers as he worked felt almost surreal. His silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was just… calm. You found yourself drawn to it, to the quiet that seemed to settle around him.

"You’re lucky," he said, glancing up at you as he bandaged your knees. "That could’ve been a lot worse."

You nodded, the words caught in your throat. There were so many things you wanted to say, things you wanted to ask him, but you didn’t know where to start. So you remained silent, watching as he finished his work, his hands moving with the practiced precision of someone who had seen too many injuries to count.

When he was done, he straightened up and met your gaze. "You should be more careful," he said softly, his voice a little lighter than before, though there was still a note of concern underlying his words. "Next time, don’t run so late at night. You never know what could happen."

You forced a tight smile, the words feeling like they were coming from someone else. "I’ll keep that in mind," you said, your voice quieter now.

Dr. Zayne took a step back after finishing the bandages, his sharp gaze softening ever so slightly as he packed the first aid kit. You glanced at him, your mouth opening to thank him, but before you could get the words out, he said, almost in unison, “Thank you.”

Both of you froze, the simultaneous expressions of gratitude hanging awkwardly in the air. A surprised laugh slipped out of you, breaking the tension.

“You first,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You swallowed, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “I was just going to say thank you for… you know, helping with this.” You gestured vaguely toward your knees, the bandages clinging to your skin. “You didn’t have to.”

The moment stretched between you, awkward yet somehow comforting. Zayne gave a small, almost amused smile at the simultaneous gratitude, but his gaze softened when it landed on you, his concern still present.

"Thank you for returning my wallet," he said, his tone steady but with a hint of appreciation.

His words caught you off guard. “Oh, right! That. It wasn’t a big deal, really.” You fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve, avoiding his gaze. “I found it at the chocolatier shop. I figured it was better to bring it to the hospital than leave it lying around.”

He nodded thoughtfully, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. “I appreciate it. Not many people would go out of their way like that.”

You tried not to let his kindness throw you off, but it wasn’t easy. There was something about Zayne that made you feel... small in a way you didn’t like to feel. He was kind, yes, but that kindness made you wonder if you were deserving of it. Why should you be the one he cared about?

But before you could dwell on that any further, his voice cut through your swirling thoughts.

"Have you eaten today?" His tone was light, but there was an edge of sincerity beneath it, one that made your stomach twist in a way that had nothing to do with hunger. It reminded you of that conversation in the shop, of how he had so effortlessly read through your tiredness.

The sheepish look that crossed your face must’ve been obvious, because Zayne sighed, the sound so deep that it almost felt like a reprimand. He pinched the bridge of his nose in a gesture that was both familiar and surprisingly endearing.

“You’ve got to take care of yourself,” he said, his voice almost too gentle for the weight of his words. “It’s not healthy to go without food, especially if you’re going to keep running around like you hunters do.”

You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him it wasn’t a big deal, but Zayne didn’t give you the chance.

"There’s a diner close by. It’s the least I can do to thank you for returning my wallet."

You shook your head instinctively, trying to backpedal. "It’s really not necessary," you said, but Zayne wasn’t having any of it. His eyes were firm, and there was an undeniable warmth behind them that almost made you feel guilty for refusing.

"Yes, it is," he replied, his tone steady but with a hint of finality. "Now, come on.”

You hesitated for a moment, the unease building in your chest like a brick wall, but the thought of Zayne’s calm, commanding presence made it impossible to say no. So, with a quiet sigh, you relented.

"I’ll pay," you muttered as he led the way, the words almost reflexive. You always felt like you had to pay your way—like it was your responsibility to do so, especially with someone who had helped you, even in the smallest of ways. You were used to standing on your own two feet.

Zayne only gave you a side glance, his lips quirking up in the barest of smiles. "No, you won’t. It’s my thank you, remember?"

The diner wasn’t far from where you had been, a cozy, low-lit place with a soft hum of quiet conversations and the clink of silverware against plates. The familiar scent of warm food—steak, mashed potatoes, and the unmistakable aroma of fresh bread—immediately filled the air as you stepped inside. You followed Zayne to a small booth in the back, the vinyl seats creaking under your weight as you slid in.

You wanted to say something—thank you, maybe—but the words felt stuck, trapped somewhere in the pit of your stomach, along with everything else that had been piling up for weeks. Zayne didn’t seem to notice, his focus already turning to the menu as he gestured for you to pick something.

You wanted to ask him more, to understand him in the same way you understood the empty streets you ran through, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d just end up looking foolish. So, instead, you stared at the menu in front of you, unable to focus on the choices, as your mind churned with questions that had no answers.

Zayne ordered for both of you, his voice low as he made his choices, and when he looked at you, you caught a flicker of something—perhaps curiosity, or was it concern? It was hard to tell.

"You should eat more regularly," he said again, as though the words were a reminder he had to repeat for his own peace of mind. You nodded, letting the silence fill the space between you for a moment.

The food arrived, warm and satisfying, and you took a bite, surprised at how hungry you were despite the earlier denials. Zayne watched you for a moment, his gaze softening as you ate, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet it. His concern, his care—it felt too much. You weren’t used to people worrying about you.

But as the meal went on, you found yourself starting to relax, the initial tension loosening from your shoulders. Zayne was easy to talk to, his calm, steady presence settling you in a way you hadn’t expected. By the end of the meal, you felt... lighter.

"Call me Zayne," he said when the check came, his voice quiet but sincere.

You blinked, a little caught off guard by the request. "Zayne?" you echoed, testing the name on your tongue.

"Yes," he replied with a small, patient smile. "It’s easier than 'Dr. Zayne,' don’t you think?"

You blinked, taken aback. “Are you sure? I mean, you’ve earned the title—”

“And I’ll still have it in the hospital,” he interrupted, amusement flickering in his eyes. “But here, it’s just Zayne.”

You nodded slowly, testing the name in your mind. It felt strange, almost too personal. But there was something grounding about it, too.

By the time dessert arrived, the knot of anxiety in your chest had loosened considerably. The warmth of the diner, the steady cadence of his voice, and the shared laughter over a poorly made joke had a way of pulling you out of your own head. For the first time in what felt like weeks, you weren’t obsessing over your failures or doubts.

As you finished your meal, Zayne pulled out his phone and slid it across the table. “Here,” he said simply. “Add your number. In case you ever need anything.”

You hesitated, the gesture feeling far more intimate than it probably was. But his expression was patient, expectant, and you found yourself entering your contact information before you could overthink it. When you handed the phone back, his lips twitched into a faint smile.

“Thanks again for returning my wallet,” he said, his tone lighter now. “And for the company.”

You felt your cheeks flush, but this time, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “It’s not a problem,” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips.

As you stepped out of the diner and into the cool night air, a strange sense of calm settled over you. Zayne walked you to the corner where your paths would diverge, his presence steady and reassuring.

“Take care of yourself,” he said, his voice softer now, almost intimate.

“You too,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

The diner’s warmth lingered even as you stepped into the cool night air. For the first time in what felt like weeks, your chest didn’t feel as tight, the oppressive weight that had been bearing down on you now lifting slightly. You still felt the ache of Sylus’ absence—a hollow, gnawing sensation that seemed to creep in whenever you let your guard down, but it wasn’t as suffocating as it had been. Instead, a new sensation fluttered in its place, tentative and fragile: excitement. It was strange to feel this way, to look forward to the possibility of a friendship formed under such unlikely circumstances. Zayne’s calm demeanor, his steady presence, had surprised you.

As you walked, the sound of fluttering wings caught your attention. Instinctively, your heart skipped, your mind jumping to Mephisto. You tilted your head to the dark sky, half-expecting to see the telltale silhouette of his familiar. But it was just a cluster of pigeons, their wings catching the faint glow of the streetlights as they soared away.

Right. Of course. It was unlikely that Sylus was watching you tonight.

You exhaled, a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, and forced your thoughts away from him. Zayne had offered you a rare moment of normalcy, and you weren’t about to let your memories of Sylus overshadow that.

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The following weeks were a blur of activity, and before long, you found yourself stationed at an outpost on the outskirts of Linkon. A metaflux surge had disrupted the area, and the temporary makeshift hospital was bustling with injured workers, hunters, and even a few civilians caught in the chaos. The air was thick with tension, the metallic tang of metaflux faint but persistent, a reminder of the unseen dangers that lurked just beyond the safety of the encampment.

Zayne was assigned as the doctor for the outpost, and you often found yourself crossing paths with him. At first, your interactions were brief—a nod here, a shared glance there—but over time, you began to talk. It started with simple pleasantries, discussions about the metaflux readings or the influx of patients, but it wasn’t long before the conversations deepened.

You learned that Zayne had a dry sense of humor, his sharp wit often catching you off guard. He’d tease you about your stubbornness, and you’d retort with a quip about his overly serious nature. Despite his professionalism, there was a warmth to him, a quiet compassion that made him easy to trust. And though you’d never admit it, you found yourself looking forward to those moments of shared laughter, those fleeting glimpses of something lighter amidst the chaos.

But even as your friendship with Zayne grew, Sylus lingered at the edges of your thoughts, a shadow you couldn’t quite shake. The conversations you had with him were sparse and strictly work-related—updates from the Association, bits of intel you passed along to him. It felt transactional, a far cry from the intimacy you once shared. Yet, every time his name appeared on your screen, your heart still raced, betraying the fragile boundaries you’d tried to set.

One evening, a message from Sylus broke the monotony of your routine.

‘Come over tomorrow night, Darling. I have an exquisite wine I’d like you to try—procured it during a recent deal.’

The invitation was simple, almost casual. For a moment, you imagined it—the rich scent of wine filling the air, his sharp yet alluring gaze fixed on you as he poured you a glass. But reality quickly crept in, dragging you back to the present. You couldn’t go. You couldn’t risk it. Not when your heart was still so fragile, still aching in ways you didn’t want to admit.

You stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as your mind raced. The truth was, you wanted to see him. But you knew better. You had to keep your distance—for your own sake, if nothing else.

‘I’m tired..'

You typed, the words feeling hollow as they formed.

'Busy day tomorrow. Maybe another time.’

You hesitated before hitting send, the weight of the message pressing down on you. When his reply came, it was as simple as his invitation.

‘Okay.’

The finality of it hit you like a brick, and for a moment, you felt like your breath had been stolen away. He didn’t push. He didn’t argue. That empty “okay” hung in the air, leaving you with the quiet realization that, once again, you had lost yourself in the haze of someone else’s world.

You tried not to read too much into it, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he had already moved on. That he didn’t care enough to fight for your attention. Instead, it felt like you were just a passing thought, like an aftertaste that wasn’t worth savoring.

Miss Hunter. The words echoed in your mind. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the tears to stay behind your eyelids, but they pressed hard, a sting that never seemed to fully fade. You rubbed your forehead, trying to push away the thoughts. But even as you did, you couldn’t escape the suffocating feeling in your chest—the one that always came when you were reminded of how little you meant to him. You felt foolish, but you couldn’t help it. It was like you were always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to come back, to pull you back into his orbit with that practiced charm, that voice that made you feel wanted, if only for a little while.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The dinner with Zayne had been a welcome reprieve. It had been two weeks since you last saw him, the demands of work pulling both of you in different directions. But tonight, seated across from him in a small, cozy bistro, you found solace in the familiar rhythm of your conversations. The mellow lights softened the sharp angles of his face as he recounted a mishap earlier in the week involving a particularly irritable patient.

His dry humor, paired with the subtle lift of his brow, drew a laugh from you—a genuine, light sound that felt foreign after the weight of recent days. For a while, the world outside blurred away. You weren’t Miss Hunter; you weren’t anything other than a person sharing a meal with a friend.

As the meal wound down, Zayne looked at you over the rim of his glass, his expression calm. “You’re doing better than when we first met.” he remarked softly.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Am I?”

He nodded. His calm demeanor always had a way of grounding you, and tonight was no exception.

The meal wrapped up with the two of you trading small updates and light banter. You paid for your half of the meal, Zayne insisting it wasn’t necessary, but you’d insisted back. There was a sense of normalcy here, something you weren’t willing to let go of easily. When you parted ways outside the diner, the night air was cool and quiet. Zayne’s warm farewell echoed softly in your ears as you waved goodbye and headed back toward your apartment.

As you walked, you felt lighter somehow. The stress of the past few weeks hadn’t vanished, but Zayne’s steady presence had reminded you of something important—moments of peace still existed, even in the chaos.

The faint scent of lavender greeted you as you unlocked your apartment door, a hint of the candle you’d left burning earlier. The lights were off, and the air felt too still—unnaturally so. Your heart skipped, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. A lump formed in your throat, panic curling its fingers around your chest.

You flicked the light switch, and the sudden brightness flooded the room, revealing the figure sitting on your couch. Sylus.

You froze. Your body stiffened, caught between fight or flight.

Your yelp of surprise filled the space, your pulse racing as you clutched the doorframe for support. “What—Sylus? What are you doing here?”

He was sitting on your couch, one arm draped casually along the backrest, his other hand resting on his knee. The dim light of the room softened the sharp edges of his face, but his expression was anything but gentle. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, tracked your every movement as if he were dissecting you with just a glance.

“How—what are you doing here?” you stammered, your voice shaky as your pulse raced.

Sylus didn’t respond right away. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his gaze dragging over you slowly, deliberately. His silence was louder than any words he could have spoken, and it made your skin prickle.

“Darling,” he finally murmured, his voice low and smooth, laced with something you couldn’t quite name. “You look… exhausted.”

You blinked, still standing frozen by the door. His tone was soft, almost tender, but it was the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers tapped against his knee, that betrayed his underlying tension.

“Y-yeah,” you stammered, your voice wavering as you took a cautious step forward. “It’s been a long day. What are you doing here?”

Sylus leaned back, the leather of the couch creaking faintly under his weight. “A long day,” he echoed, his lips curving into a faint smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yet you had time for dinner.”

“I…” you faltered, scrambling for a response. “It was just…”

“Just dinner,” he interrupted smoothly, his tone unreadable. “With… someone else.”

The air felt thick, charged with a tension that made your skin prickle. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words stuck in your throat. His eyes narrowed slightly, his expression still calm but his body language telling a different story. The way his fingers drummed against his knee, the slight clench of his jaw, the flicker of something dark in his gaze.

Your heart pounded, your thoughts racing. Why was he here? What did he want? And why did his presence—his very existence in your space—make your chest ache in that familiar, suffocating way?

“I didn’t think…” You stopped yourself, your voice trembling. “You didn’t say you’d be coming by. You can’t just—”

“Can’t just what?” he asked, his voice dangerously soft as he rose from the couch, his movements fluid and deliberate. “Show up to see what’s wrong?”

Your breath hitched as he closed the distance between you, his height and presence suddenly overwhelming. “Nothing’s wrong…”you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Is that so?” he murmured, tilting his head slightly, his eyes boring into yours. “Because from where I’m standing, it seems like you’ve been avoiding me, Darling.”

The accusation hung in the air, sharp and unyielding.

“I’ve been busy…” you said weakly, your voice lacking conviction.

“Busy,” he repeated, his gaze flicking over you again, this time with something close to disdain. “Too busy for me, but not too busy for… him.”

Your hands fidgeted at your sides, your breath coming in shallow bursts. You wanted to move, to put distance between you, but your legs felt rooted to the spot. “I didn’t think dinner with a friend would..”

“Friend?” he interrupted, the single word slicing through your sentence. His lips curved into something that might have been a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Your heart pounded painfully against your ribs, the anxiety swirling in your chest mixing with something else—something raw and painful that you didn’t want to name. The memories of your last exchange with Sylus came flooding back—the curt messages, the unspoken finality of his “okay.” You had tried to convince yourself that it didn’t matter, that you didn’t need his validation. But standing here now, under the weight of his gaze, you felt every crack in the fragile walls you had built to keep him out.

“I don’t understand what you want from me,” you said finally, the words trembling as they left your lips.

His eyes softened slightly, but the tension in his posture didn’t ease. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something, something important, but the moment passed as quickly as it came. Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a gesture so gentle it felt almost foreign.

“Don’t make me feel like I’m a stranger to you.” he said quietly, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability that made your chest ache.

Don’t make me feel like I’m a stranger to you. The words echoed in your mind, repeating, twisting, until all you could hear was the raw edge of betrayal laced in his tone.

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp and bitter, a little too loud in the quiet of your apartment. Your chest tightened, and for a moment, you felt the space around you grow smaller. You couldn’t breathe—couldn’t think. All you could feel was the heat of anger building inside of you, raw and unrefined.

“That’s rich,” you scoffed, finally managing to find your voice. “That’s really rich, coming from you of all people.”

Sylus blinked, a subtle flash of surprise crossing his face, but it quickly masked over. His lips tightened, his brow furrowed ever so slightly, but it wasn’t enough. You had to push, you couldn’t hold back now. The words were tumbling out before you could even stop them. Your breath hitched, a strangled sob lodged somewhere in the back of your throat, but you refused to let it spill. You wouldn’t let him see you break—not like this, not in front of him. You knew the truth. He knew the truth. It hurt, yes, but you weren’t the one to blame.

“You've been treating me like a stranger for months,” you continued, your voice trembling with anger you hadn't fully realized was there. “Barely responding to my messages, not answering my calls, and when I do see you, it’s like you can’t be bothered. You don’t even see me.” You felt the weight of every unreturned message, every unanswered call, every promise left in limbo. “I’ve had to hear from Luke and Kieran that you’re in Linkon. But you couldn’t even make time to see me.”

You felt the ache deep in your chest, that familiar, suffocating knot forming. He didn’t deserve your pain. Not anymore. You wouldn’t let him have that. Not this time.

You took a shaky breath, suddenly feeling raw, exposed. “You don’t have to feel obligated to check on me, Sylus,” you said, your words clipped and cutting through the thick silence between you. “You don’t have to feel pity for me. I know where I stand. I know my place in your life.”

His expression, that unreadable mask, cracked for the briefest of moments. His lips parted, his gaze flicking to your face, then back down to the floor. His jaw clenched. But his eyes… They weren’t the same as they’d been earlier. The hardness was gone, replaced by something far more dangerous, something even more intimate. The storm was gathering, but it wasn’t just in the air—no, it was inside him too.

“You know where you stand?” His voice was quieter now, but there was an edge to it, a slight tightness you hadn’t noticed before. He took a step forward, his body closing the space between you, like a wave of raw energy crashing toward you. His proximity only made your pulse race faster, but you couldn’t back down. Not now.

“I’m just an informant, right?” you bit out, every word feeling like it sliced through the night air, cutting through the tension like a blade. “You don’t have to pretend you care, Sylus. So don’t stand there with that look on your face like I’m some important thing you need to check on.”

The air between you grew heavy, thick with unsaid words and stifled tension. Every inch of your body was telling you to get away, to shut down, to stop this before it tore you apart. But your feet felt heavy, stuck in place. Sylus’s presence was like gravity, pulling you toward him.

"You think that's all you are?" he murmured, his voice dangerously low, like the calm before the thunder. The way he said it made your heart stutter in your chest. It was both a question and an accusation or a challenge.

But there was something else in his voice. Something you couldn’t quite place. His eyes were intense, too intense, and they searched yours like he was looking for the answer. The truth.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he continued, his words clipped, as though they were difficult for him to say. “But I couldn’t....couldn’t make sense of it. Of you.”

It was the first time that he seemed genuinely vulnerable, and it left you breathless and confused. You had always wondered if there was more beneath his cold exterior. You had always told yourself that he cared. But you had never dared to confront him.

His hand was close enough now to reach out, his fingers barely brushing the edge of your wrist. The air between you was still thick with everything unsaid, everything unhealed. And yet, despite the words that had been thrown between you, there was something undeniably magnetic in the tension. The ache in your chest, the rawness, the feelings of betrayal—they didn’t wash away just because you said them out loud.

God, you hated him for this.

But part of you yearned for him. That part that still felt tethered to him, despite the distance.

Sylus’s fingers hovered over your wrist, his touch like fire against your skin. For a moment, the storm between you calmed, leaving only the faintest echo of it behind. The weight of his gaze, the force of his presence—it seemed to drown out the rest of the world.

He said nothing for a moment, his lips parting as though he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. His eyes darkened further, not with anger now, but with something you couldn’t quite define.

You took a breath, your body suddenly feeling too small beneath his gaze. The storm was still inside. You had to move away. Your heart pounded as if it were trying to escape your chest, desperate to flee from whatever was stirring inside you. You couldn't—no, you wouldn’t—let yourself get caught up in whatever this feeling was. You were not some fool, ready to throw everything away for the temporary pull of his presence. You knew better than that. You had to.

Every instinct screamed at you to retreat, to put some distance between you and the mess of emotions bubbling under your skin. His sharp gaze was enough to make your knees tremble, and it took everything in you not to look back, not to let him see the quiet devastation that flickered inside you.

“You need to leave… Sylus.” You whispered. You staggered back a few steps, your breathing shallow, desperate. Your feet felt like lead, yet you forced yourself to walk away. You turned your back to him, willing your legs to move, hoping to escape before you got sucked into whatever dark vortex of feelings he was drawing you into.

He didn’t move. Instead, you heard the familiar click of his boots against the floor as he took a single, deliberate step forward. “Why?” His voice, low and curious, sent a shiver down your spine. It was almost too intimate, as if he were searching for a piece of you, trying to understand what you couldn’t explain.

You didn’t want to look at him. Didn’t want to see the quiet confusion on his face—the faint flicker of disappointment that stung like salt in an open wound. You couldn’t let him see your weakness, couldn’t let him know how badly it hurt to be around him, how badly it hurt not to be around him.

“Is it so you can run back to your precious ‘friend’?” The words dripped with something unspoken, something that made your stomach twist.

You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t. Not when his voice—that voice, the one that threaded through the air like silk—was digging into your mind like this. The word echoed in your ears, almost mocking you, and you felt something fragile snap inside you. The weight of the years you’d spent keeping distance, of guarding your heart against him, against whatever he made you feel, started to unravel. But you couldn’t let it.

You took another step away from him. One more step, you told yourself. Just one more. You didn’t need this.

Dark tendrils wrapped around you as you move, pulling you back. He was using his evol to pull you back. You didn’t need him pulling you in again. But then it came. That touch. He pulled you to him, forceful yet intimate, and your breath caught in your throat. You were too close. Too close to the edge of losing yourself, of falling into his presence.

His hands...no, his fingers—snaked around your waist before you even knew what was happening. You gasped, body going stiff in surprise, but his grip tightened, pulling you back into him. You tried to keep moving, tried to pull away, but it was useless. His hold was ironclad, his presence consuming. His grip tightened slightly, but there was an almost comforting pressure there, a subtle reminder that despite the dispute between you, there was something undeniable between the two of you.

“Why are you running?” His voice was a whisper against your ear, the words smooth like silk, but there was something jagged beneath them—something urgent, raw.

You struggled to hold yourself together, but the more you fought it, the more it pulled—this unbearable need to lean into him, to give in to the chaos that his proximity stirred in you. You knew you shouldn’t, but everything in you wanted to. You felt the ache of wanting something you couldn't have, the sting of the distance you had put between you and the thing that was somehow both poison and relief.

His hands tightened slightly, his thumb brushing over your ribs in a movement that sent a jolt through your entire system. The words you wanted to say, the reasons you needed to get away from him, all felt so small and pointless now. How could you possibly explain this? This tension, this pull? How could you say that being near him felt like the most excruciating thing in the world, but also the only thing that made you feel alive?

“You’re not just an informant to me,” he breathed, his words slipping under your skin, curling into the tight spaces of your chest. “I didn’t realize I was hurting you this much. That you’d want to distance yourself from me...” His tone softened at the end, but it only made everything worse. The tenderness in his voice—his tenderness—was like a dagger in your side, making the blood in your veins freeze. You wanted to say something, anything, but all you could hear was the deafening rush of your own heartbeat. You tried to stay composed, but the words were caught in your throat, and your body was still pressed so tightly against his, your breath shallow, your pulse thudding painfully against your ribs.

Why was this so hard? Why couldn’t you just say it—say that you couldn’t let him get close again? That you couldn’t survive another wound, another aching, empty feeling in your chest because of him? But the way his hands tightened, the warmth of his body against yours, made everything you were feeling a little too real.

You could feel his heartbeat against your back, the rhythm in sync with your own, and the pull of him was growing stronger. You could feel your anxiety bubbling up, the gnawing fear at the pit of your stomach. Was this just him toying with you? Was he trying to pull you into his world of darkness and manipulation? Or did he really care?

Your head was spinning. The emotions warred within you—anger, confusion, guilt, and something else. Something that made your heart race faster and your thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind.

“Let me go,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the storm that raged around you.

But you didn’t pull away. You didn’t push him off.

Sylus' grip on you tightened, his arm like a steel band around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. His chest rises and falls against your back as his breath brushes against your ear, warm and heavy. It’s as if he’s afraid, like if he lets go for even a second, he’ll lose you forever. You can feel the tension radiating from him, but also something softer, something desperate.

“No, Darling,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with emotion, his tone possessive, as though the very idea of you slipping away shatters him. “You’re not going anywhere and neither am I.”

"You’re going to stay," He pulls you even closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he speaks again, quieter this time, but laced with something raw and vulnerable. "...and you’re going to listen to me. I won’t let you walk away from this."

You can hear the flicker of something beneath his words—regret. And then, his lips ghost over the sensitive skin of your neck, lingering just a little longer than necessary. He slowly spins you around, to face him. His voice softens, almost apologetic. “I know I was a dick. I know I didn’t respond to you, and I’m sorry for that. I didn’t know how to handle it… handle us. It confused me, and instead of facing it, I pushed you away.” His breath catches slightly, and you feel his chest tighten against your back.

His hand moves to cup your cheek, tilting your face slightly toward him, his thumb brushing over your skin as though it’s a promise, an apology. The weight of his gaze is intense, but there’s also something tender there, something that wants to pull you back in, closer. “I know you’re still hurting, darling. I see it. And I... I’ll spend a lifetime making up for it, because that’s what I want. A lifetime. With you. Not as some informant or some... thing, but as my beloved. You. By my side. Always.”

He pauses, letting his words hang in the air between you. His voice drops, the quiet sorrow of his confession sending a twinge of guilt through you. "I don’t have the right to ask this of you, I know," Sylus continues, his voice thick with emotion. "But seeing you push me away… It’s harder than I ever thought it would be. Harder than I want to admit." He presses his forehead lightly against your temple, his breath shaky. "I’ve never needed someone the way I need you, and I didn’t know how to tell you that. But I do. I need you."

You can feel him tense slightly, the shift in his demeanor telling you that his thoughts have turned darker. His voice lowers, the jealousy evident in the way he speaks, though it’s wrapped in a softness that almost makes it harder to bear.

"And Dr. Zayne... I can’t stand the thought of him being so close to you," Sylus adds, his voice low and thick with a possessiveness that unsettles you in its intensity. "It kills me, you know? Watching him with you, hearing you laugh like that with him, as if I don’t even exist." His arm tightens again, almost painfully, as if he needs to remind you, remind both of you, where you truly belong. "I know I have no claim on you... but... I can't help but feel like there’s a part of you that wants him in a way that... I can't compete with." His voice hardens, jealousy dripping from every word. "It eats at me, knowing he has a part of you that I’m fighting for."

"Sylus..." Your voice cracked slightly as you repeated his name, your breath hitching, caught in the tension between you. His name felt heavy on your tongue, like it was both a question and an answer. You had never said it so quietly, so vulnerably. The memories of earlier came rushing back—him with her, that delicate smile he gave her, the way she leaned into him just a little too comfortably. It had burned in your chest, the jealousy creeping in with a venomous ache.

The words tumbled out before you could stop them, too fast to gather, too painful to hide. "I felt the same... when I saw you with her," you confessed, swallowing thickly. "I felt so... so useless, Sylus. When I saw you with her, it felt like... like she was everything you needed. Better than me. And that... it broke me, Sylus. I felt like I wasn’t enough, like I wasn’t... worth it.”

The words stung, bitter and unrelenting, but the weight of them was finally lifted as you let them spill out. You felt exposed, naked in your insecurity, but somehow, it was all you could do to stand there and wait for him to respond. You could feel the weight of it, of how small you’d felt in that moment, how unworthy you had become in your own eyes. The self-doubt gnawed at your insides, each thought of her with him twisting like a knife in your gut.

Sylus’s expression softened, his features melting into a tender sadness, as though he were seeing you for the first time, truly seeing you. His hand reached out slowly, almost hesitantly, as if afraid to shatter the fragile space between you. His touch was a gentle comfort, his fingers brushing against your cheek, his voice a low whisper, "Darling, you're none of that... none of it, I swear."

You shook your head, feeling the tears threatening, but you couldn’t let them fall, not yet. His words were kind, but the ache in your chest was still there, an unhealed wound.

He continued, his voice steady but thick with something deeper. "I didn’t know you felt that way... about her, in the same way I feel about Zayne." His gaze met yours, and for the first time tonight, it wasn’t uncertain. It was so gentle, so soft, tender. "But you need to know, you're it for me, Darling…" he murmured, his fingers curling around yours, grounding you in the quiet storm of your emotions. "Yes, I want help from her, but..." He paused, as if weighing his words carefully, "...I need you more." His words were a balm to the wounds that had festered within you, but the tenderness in his eyes was what finally reached you. His hand slid down to your shoulder, his thumb grazing the skin there. His warmth surrounded you, and you let yourself sink into the comfort of his words. The jealousy, the insecurity that had burned so fiercely in you when you saw him with her, melted in the face of the tenderness he was offering now.

You swallowed, trying to steady yourself as your heart raced, the intensity of the moment almost overwhelming. “Zayne… Zayne’s just a friend,” you said, your voice fragile but firm, “someone who helped me... helped me see past the stuff in my head. After everything, I just... needed someone to remind me that I’m not broken.”

Sylus's eyes softened even more, the depth of his gaze sending shivers down your spine. He nodded slowly, his expression filled with understanding. The tension between you didn’t disappear entirely, but it was now laced with something more tender. More real.

“You’re not broken, Darling.” he repeated, and there was a quiet strength in his voice, something that made you believe him more than you ever had before. “You’re everything I’ve ever needed... and more.”

"I... I’m sorry," you whispered, a lump in your throat as you looked up at him. "I never wanted to make you feel like I didn’t care. I just... I was afraid you’d choose her over me."

Sylus’s fingers brushed against the nape of your neck, pulling you closer, his forehead pressing gently against yours. "You never have to apologize for that, Darling." he murmured, his voice warm, his breath mingling with yours. “It was my fault and I accept that.”

The room was quiet, save for the soft sound of your breathing, as Sylus stood before you, his face drawn with intensity. The flickering light from the lamp cast soft shadows across his features, but his gaze... his gaze was sharp, focused entirely on you.

"I love you, Darling" he said, his words lingering in the air as though they were the first time he had allowed himself to say them out loud. "I’m in love with you," he confessed, his voice steady despite the raw emotion that tinged it. "I’ve been in love with you for a while now, and I’ve tried to deny it. Tried to hide it from you and myself, but I can’t anymore. I won’t. I love you, and I need you to know that."

The breath you hadn’t realized you were holding caught in your throat. Everything in you froze, then splintered. The confession, so pure, so vulnerable, hit you with a force you hadn’t been prepared for. You stood there, unable to move, a mix of surprise and relief flooding your chest.

He loves you. Sylus. The one you had longed for, yearned, and hoped for in silence. Your heart stuttered in your chest, the world around you growing impossibly still.

"I…" you whispered, voice trembling, and you had to stop, had to steady yourself before the words could spill from your lips. "I’ve love you too," you said, your voice barely more than a breath, but it carried all the weight of everything you had kept inside. "I’ve loved you, and I never told you because I was afraid. Afraid that I was asking too much. Afraid of the rejection. Afraid that I wasn’t enough."

Sylus’s expression softened, his lips curling into a frown as he stepped forward, closing the space between you. His hands reached for you, but not in the way you had feared or expected. They were gentle, his touch a plea for understanding. "Oh, darling," he whispered, shaking his head slowly. "I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you ever felt like you needed to hide it from me."

He reached up, brushing his thumb along your cheek, and you flinched slightly, your emotions suddenly overwhelming you, raw and untamed. "We’re both idiots," he continued, his voice almost tender with the weight of the admission. "We’ve been skirting around each other, afraid of saying the one thing we both needed to say."

Your laugh came out soft, almost fragile, the tension in your chest breaking for the first time since Sylus had walked into your home. It was a quiet sound, but it was the first time you’d laughed all night, the first time you’d allowed yourself to feel something other than fear or uncertainty in the past few weeks with him involved. But that laugh didn’t last long. As soon as it came, the tears followed, the ones you had been holding back for so long, finally slipping free. The dam you had built up crumbled, and before you could stop them, hot tears streamed down your face. before you could even reach up to brush them away, his hand was there, steady and warm against your cheek.

"Don’t," you whispered, your voice thick with the ache you could no longer hide. "Please, don’t look at me like this. I’m—"

"Stop," Sylus interrupted softly, his hand holding yours gently, his gaze unwavering. "Don’t hide from me. I want to see all of you… everything you’ve been hiding. I know you think I don’t see it, but I do." His eyes locked onto yours with such intensity that you couldn’t look away. "I see it when you think I’m not watching. I see the way you pull back, the way you hide the parts of you that you think I can’t handle. But I am looking. I’ve always been looking. And I don’t want you to hide anymore. Not from me. And I’m here and I want all of you."

His words were a medicine to the parts of you that had been bruised, the parts that had feared being exposed, vulnerable. But in his eyes, there was only love. No judgment. No pity. Just... love. And it was enough. It was more than enough.

The tears that had slipped down your face slowed, but they didn’t stop. You didn’t try to wipe them away this time, allowing yourself to be seen for the first time in ages. The sobs that followed were soft but trembled with relief, with something finally breaking open inside of you.

Sylus’s arms were around you in an instant, pulling you close, holding you in the kind of embrace that made you feel as though you could finally breathe, as though the weight of everything you had been carrying could finally be set down.

"I’m sorry," you whispered, almost broken. "I’ve been so scared, Sylus. Scared of this, of being cast away... of losing you."

"You’ll never lose me, Darling." he murmured, his voice firm and unwavering as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

You tilted your head back slightly, your face still damp with the remnants of the tears that had fallen, and through your wet lashes, you searched his face. Sylus held you close, his arms wrapped around you in a way that made you feel safe, even as the doubts lingered in your heart. You wanted to believe him, but the fear, the uncertainty, was still there, buried deep beneath the surface.

He must have seen it in your eyes, the way you still hesitated, the uncertainty you couldn't quite shake. Sylus made a half-frustrated sound in the back of his throat, his hands tightening around you for a split second, before they slid up to cradle your face. His thumb brushed against your cheek again, a tender, pleading touch, before he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a sudden, urgent kiss.

The kiss was unlike any other. It wasn’t slow, it wasn’t soft. It was intense, filled with desperation, as though he needed you to understand just how deeply he felt for you, just how much you meant to him. His hands cupped your face, holding you as if you were the only thing that mattered in that moment, as if the world had stopped turning just for you. His lips pressed against yours with a kind of fire, but it wasn’t angry, no. It was passionate, desperate in its own way, like he wanted you to feel how important you were to him, how much you had been wanted, loved.

Your hands trembled as they reached up, gripping the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer, wanting to bridge the distance between you, as though the kiss itself could erase every lingering doubt in your heart. Your breath hitched when you felt his pulse quicken under your touch, his heartbeat matching the frantic pace of your own. Each breath you took seemed to echo in the stillness of the room, mingling with the heat of his kiss, our lips moving together with a quiet urgency, the world beyond the two of you fading into a distant blur. You felt everything—every brush of his fingers, every subtle shift of his body against yours, the way his chest rose and fell beneath your palms, how his breath felt against your lips as if he couldn’t get close enough to you.

Your chests rose and fell together, the world spinning around you. You could feel the heat of him, the urgency that still lingered in his touch, the way he kept you close, almost as if he were afraid to let go.

Breathing became an afterthought, both of you gasping for air when the kiss broke, but neither of you pulled far enough away to lose the connection. Sylus’s forehead rested against yours, his breath hot against your lips as he whispered, voice still heavy with emotion. “Every day, from henceforth, I will work to make sure you never feel the need to doubt yourself. Not in my life. Not with me." His words, slow and deliberate, sank deep into your heart like a promise he would keep.

The intensity of the moment hung between you both, the room still, save for the soft sound of your breathing as you both slowly came back to reality. But in his eyes, you saw nothing but certainty—certainty that you were enough. That you always had been.

His hand found yours again, fingers weaving with yours, and he gave it a gentle squeeze, as if the simple touch was a quiet reassurance.

"You are everything to me," he murmured, his voice steady now, grounding you as much as his embrace. "And I’ll make sure you never forget that.”

Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, absorbing his words, his warmth, his certainty. In his arms, you could feel the truth of his promise, somewhere deep inside, the doubts began to fade.

For the first time in a long time, you believed him. And when he kissed you again, this time softer, it was like the beginning of something new.

[ A disclaimer note - Please be respectful of the request ]

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

[janumun]

Misty Affections [The L&DS Boys - NSFW]

Rated: NSFW/18+ 🌶️ (Take note of all warnings before you proceed) Pairings: L&DS Men/Reader Word Count: 6k+

Tags: polyandry/polygamy, bath/shower friskiness, multiple orgasms, oral, anal and vaginal sex, body worship, porn with little plot, double penetration, consensual somnophilia, edging, passing hints of breeding, scent kink

Summary: At the eve of your anniversary, you let the men, most precious to your heart, show you exactly how they love and cherish you. Slow and measured. Piece by piece.

Author’s Notes: I have been driven so insane ever since the drop of that crazy trailer, all I’ve been able to fantasize about are these beautiful men. Did so individually at first before they eventually converged within my mind into this behemoth romantic-sexy fest. (If you know me or my stories, you know I cannot go a second breathing without a little love in my sex LOL) 

This one’s for all my harem loving folks who’ve been left thirsty after the “Misty Invasions” trailer. Happy reading!

You oscillate at the entrance to the penthouse suite, fingers tracing the sleek outline of the key card your boyfriend had provided you with, earlier; eager gaze skittering back towards the door. Heart within your throat and a swarm of butterflies flittering within the base of your stomach.  

An entire year had passed you by; the day of your relationship anniversary upon you now. And you’d decided amongst you, in distinct words and heated whispers, that you’d make it a day well worth commemorating.  

You smile at the recollection of Sylus’ amused gaze — blood-red garnet — as it had met your surprised one, a few days prior. He’d had you search up his entire house for an elusive Mephisto, on the pretence of having lost sight of him. Finding him at last, perched atop the silken pillows of his bed. And held within his beak, a sleek black card the bird had let drop into your palm, obedient, before taking flight.  

A key access to the penthouse suite of one of the most luxurious hotels in Linkon City.  

Sylus had tugged you close — his warm breath, a sweet caress against the shell of your ear — stating the date and time for you to be there, without questions asked. Your heart had thrilled at the time in nervous anticipation.  

Just as it does now as you move to hoist your umbrella — damp still from the outpour outside — onto your arm, clutching a bouquet of flowers close to your chest.  

Reaching to swipe your card, at long last, against the room’s digital pad—  

Before the door sways open on its own. Your gaze skipping, immediate, to meet the owner’s: scarlet, warm in amused affection. “How much longer were you planning to dither at the door?” His hand curves about yours as he steers you inside. Reaching to help you out with your coat and umbrella.  

“How did you even—”  

Sylus angles his face in mute indication, at the door, just in time for you to catch sight of Mephisto sweeping across the hallway, disappearing just as swift around a corner, with a triumphant crow. 

“I am going to cook that bird one of these days,” you mutter, discomfited at the thought of Sylus having been standing privy to your entire vacillation session outside. 

A large hand curls about your jaw, insisting your gaze upwards, just as you feel the heat of Sylus’ mouth on yours. “Don’t fret any longer,” his lips brushing each word right against yours. Every stroke tending sparks of fire against your skin. “you’ll make me want to tease you. And I promised them I’d be kind to you today.” The thick baritone of his quiet laughter sinks, hot, into your chest; down into the depths of your belly.  

Your hand curves about the back of his neck, heaving that infuriating mouth back against yours. “Please do be quiet for once.” Fingers grazing at the base of his hair before they card upwards, tugging at the strands.  

His mouth pulls into a wider smile, just as you all but force the large bouquet of flowers you still carry, against the firm expanse of his chest.  

“Happy anniversary, Sylus.” You murmur softly, flushed gaze fixated upon the flowers — snowdrops and lilies, roses and clematis — a representation of each of their colours that had painted your life brighter, over the course of your years together. You truly hoped your boyfriends would love them.  

Garnet gaze narrowing in quiet affection, Sylus coaxes your attentions back to him with a call of your name. “And to you.”  

“Now,” He winds an arm about your waist, dragging you flush against his torso. “let me find a place for these beauties while you go hop into the shower. You’re cold to the touch.” And when you move to protest, he silences it with a delicate brush of his thumb against your lip before he too bows forwards, to murmur, just shy of your mouth. “I promise you won’t miss me long, sweetheart.” 

Leaving you in the stewing solace of your own indecent thoughts. 

Your relieved exhale breaks in soft wisps of white curling into the air, well comforted by the heat of your quick shower. Your eyes drifting absently towards the bath you’d drawn, your favourite scent now permeating the space of your bathroom. 

Petals rippling across the surface of placid warm waters; you knew how your artist appreciated the romanticism of your relationship. When you let yourself go and allowed yourself free expression of your adoration, for your Lemurian beloved. The colour, it never failed to bring flush to his cheeks at your simple gestures of affection, he so deserved. He had waited, and for so long.  

A mere speck of his patience, against your current restless wait, ever since his message had lighted your screen earlier this evening, indicating he’d be there to join you, soon.  

Sooner, you whisper into the air, slinking a cautious hand down the line of your stomach and towards your mound.  

It was so incredibly difficult to have all your lovers, gathered together in one place, owing to how busy each of you were with your respective schedules. Tonight, hence, was a rare, precious occasion and you intended to make the most of it.  

“Why so distracted.” A deep voice resonates at your back; a swift curl of pulsating red capturing your wrist before your fingers have the chance to brush in between your legs. Heaving your wrist up and back, depositing it prisoner into Sylus’ waiting palm. “You barely noticed me.” The roughened pads of his digits graze at the tender skin of your wrist in soft warning, before he lets go. “Couldn’t wait even a moment for me, huh?” 

You turn to face him, a puckish smile you know is already teasing at the corners of your mouth. “Just engaging in some personal time.” 

Sylus stands before you, body bare, save for the towel that keeps him from you, wrapped about his waist. A sturdy arm reaches past your shoulder, turning the shower off. Motions entirely unhurried. Deceptively tranquil, you do not miss the blood-red heat that simmers at the edges of that observing gaze.  

“Oh?” He crowds you a step closer into the wall. Your fingers coast in tense anticipation about the knot of his towel. “You wouldn’t mind if I turned that into a private time for two, would you, kitten?” 

You put on a deliberate show of pondering the question; a patient raised brow your lover keeps focused upon you. 

Until you tip a coquettish gaze his way and answer. “I suppose I would no—” Your response, Sylus pilfers from your tongue before you can utter it, pulsing a quick kiss of violence against your lips. 

Your digits impatiently work to release him from the final confines of his towel, absently tossing it aside. And onto the gnarled vines of red lurking at the edges of your vision, immediately reach to snatch up the cloth, discarding it into a wash bin close by.  

Laughter in between heavy breaths; coveting fingers, free at last, skate down the strength of his thighs, skimming past his stiff arousal. A small gasp of appreciation you break against his mouth just as Sylus lurches his hips forward, once, into your grasp to better let you admire the effect you have on him.  

“It’s been too long.” you murmur into the space he spares you in between wet kisses. 

“Darling,” he exhales; a small, rough sound of pleasure. “Not yet.”  

Sylus’ hands stir down the length of your body, fingers finding target, and pulsing into the soft of your ass before you can try and bribe your case with him, to give you what you want. Hefting you up entirely onto the corded strength of his arms, stifling your sound of surprise against his mouth. 

He bids you wrap your legs about his waist, as he walks you both over towards the luxurious bath. “Now,” Settling down into the warm, scented water, he eases you back against himself. “Let us get you washed properly.”  

You eventually relent and let him do as he pleases for the next several minutes. 

Drifting a careful hand about the expanse of your legs, you try not to squirm too much when that devious hand skirts about your inner thighs. Across the arc of your clavicle, down the slope of your breastbone. His palms bear down against your abdomen in provocative press-release motions. You're not quite sure what kind of bathing Sylus assumes he’s doing except just keying you higher, the longer you endure his hands upon you.  

Hands that grow unrepentant and bold with time, the self-pleased skew of those infuriating lips following soon after, down the slope of your neck, along the curve of your shoulder. You tip your face sideways, smoothing a quick kiss onto his jaw. “You keep this up any longer and you’re going to have an incredibly frustrated woman on your hands.” 

He buries his grin into your shoulder.  

“And I’m not sure what I’ll do then.” you threaten mildly.  

“Is that so? I’d certainly like to see you try.” He accepts your provocation.  

You reach an arm up, winding it about his neck. Fingers splaying against the damp brush of his hair as you angle your head up and he obliges, head canting for your mouth to catch against his. His tongue sweeps against yours in immediate insistence, your eager allowance in the slack fall of your mouth as he presses into you.  

Sylus’ indolent digits change tune then; a large palm he curves about the weight of your breast and squeezes. The roughened pads of them toying at the pert apex, until he coaxes your moans out for himself.  

The muted click of a lock sounds within your surroundings; quiet, save for the gentle ripples of water and your damp sounds of pleasure.  

“Ah,” Sylus murmurs in between kisses. “He’s here now. We would’ve ended up using the little princeling’s entire bath for ourselves if he’d turned up any later.” 

A thrill of pleasure and adoring desire crests itself within your chest, calling your approaching beloved’s name on a long sigh of pleasure Sylus wrenches out of you. “That’s it, sweetheart, tempt him on higher sounds next.” 

Restless within his lap, you wrench your mouth away from his, raising yourself onto your knees to turn, capturing him in between your thighs. 

Just as Rafayel steps past the threshold of the baths, appearing to be in the midst of wresting himself out a long sodden shirt. You absently muse how he must’ve forgotten to carry an umbrella with him, yet again, out on one of his painting expeditions, despite your reminder to him just last night. “It’s pouring crazy out there and I’m drenched to the bone—”  

His words nicked mid-sentence with the slow rise of those bluish-florid eyes — taking in the lascivious scene in front — along with your thoughts torn into jagged shards of pleasure with the firm catch of Sylus’ teeth against your breast. A large hand he splays at your back, enticing you closer into his mouth. 

Your eyes, refusing to stray from Rafayel’s, even as he remains rooted to the threshold. A flush beginning to colour against the arch of his cheeks to witness how Sylus augments your pleasure further underneath his enraptured gaze. 

Pleased joy ripples through you, to be putting on a tantalising show for your beloved Lemurian, entreating him closer on soft sighs and broken moans of his name.  

“Please,” your next gasp of pleasure scatters under the prick of stimulated tears. “Rafayel, my heart, come to me.” 

And like a beautiful marionette pulled upon by its strings, he obeys your request, striding towards the two of you. Bestowing mercy upon your poor heart, you feel, could pound right out of your chest.  

He tips downwards, long, graceful digits sweeping delicate beneath the cut of your jaw to raise. Brushing a sweet kiss of greeting against your mouth. “I’m here, beloved.” 

Fingers refusing to cease his exploratory touches, his thumb glides past your cheeks, dusting right beneath your eyes at stray tears.  

“Welcome home,” you greet, your own fingers curving about his jaw in hazy affection.  

“You’re late,” Sylus speaks, his hand trekking a careful path about the flare of your hip.  

Rafayel frowns at that. “I know. Not like I didn’t try to be here sooner.” Fingers tinkering at his belt buckle before he slides it, smooth out of its confines. Your eager hands reaching to assist, rushing down the line of buttons at his shirt, divesting him of his impediments.  

“You’re freezing, Rafayel.” You observe, palms pressed up against his naked abdomen. 

He catches one of your hands within his, feathering a kiss onto your knuckles. “Warm me, then.” An irrefutable instruction as much as it is his soft request.  

Relieved entirely of his clothes, he steps into the bath, fingers entwining against yours in a firm hold, coaxing you onto his body instead.  

“You're so cosy.” He appreciates in between hungering kisses. “Share more of your heat with me.” The soft squish of your breasts mould against the solid expanse of his chest the deeper you try and press against the other, your arms encased about his neck, fingers carding greedily through the wet strands of his hair.  

Rafayel shifts your positions, guiding you back against Sylus’ chest by your threaded digits. The hard heat of Sylus’ cock presses against the cleft of your ass as Rafayel drives you further in by the urgency of his kisses. 

His bond shimmers to life — a scarlet vow — right above his heart, your own thrilled by the rapidly dissipating chill of his body, replaced with passionate warmth. 

“I’ve missed you.” He drags your intertwined digits closer, directing your hand to press against the thrumming of his heart. “And especially today, being so important. I wanted to be next to you for the entirety of it.” 

Rafayel’s eyes, misted in desire and affection so acute, your breath catches at your throat at the sheer intensity of it. He secretes a gentle kiss into the fold of your palm. “I want us to make this a memorable anniversary.” 

“You already are.” You keen softly, in assurance, fingers stroking down the length of Sylus’ thigh. “I desire you both so very much right now.”

He returns your fervent regard in the thick digits that skim past the curve of your spine, fingering in sparing strokes at the rim of your ass. You gasp at the sensation, body clenching in on the emptiness it has long been subjected to. 

You need them both; the carnal strength of your want winds you breathless. 

Sylus had left you suspended upon a torturous precipice for so long, you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold on for.  

“Hey,” Rafayel prompts. 

Garnet binds immediately spring to life, streaking towards the bottles lined up neat atop a marble slab. Plucking one up as if by rote memory, before depositing it into Rafayel’s grasp. “As our princeling desires,” Sylus speaks; the raw amusement you can hear within his words.  

Rafayel’s response is all but a raised brow — they have learned to synchronize well against each other, you realize with a shaky exhale. You are glad, as you are nervous, for the state of your body; the havoc they wreck onto you, once your boys are in tandem.  

The lubricant well-smeared across Rafayel’s digits, he reaches in between your bodies to run his fingers against the same place Sylus does, two sets of different fingers they ease, gentle, into your ass. Rafayel’s low groan of pleasure, you lunge forwards to drink against your lips.  

“I need—” you cry out against him, just as Rafayel withdraws from you entirely to leave Sylus to press his fingers deeper into you, a slow, caressing slide; eased by their gentle loosening of your hole.  

Rafayel hums a low, euphoric sound. “Do you need him deep inside you, my love?”  

“Yes.”  

“You’re almost there for me, sweetheart. Breathe.” Sylus’ grunt of approval at your compliance, he drowns into a relishing bite at your shoulder.  

Rafayel’s mouth descends upon your breasts, pulsing open mouthed kisses right above the expanse of your thundering heart, his fingers finding their way towards your neglected slit, mercifully pressing into you. A loud, broken moan wrenched out of your throat, pleasure now far palpable after having been edged for so long.  

“You’re so wet. So very captivating when you are like this.”  

“I love you, Rafayel.” you gasp, tears gathering at your eyes to feel so full of them both.  

He pulses a kiss against your mouth in heated devotion, tongue warming against yours in between urgent breaths, “I am yours. Call for me, my beloved bride.”

“Rafayel.”

“Ah. Once more, so I know I am entirely yours to have.” he entreats, gaze heated. 

His fingers gather pace — in tandem with Sylus’ controlled assault — striking rhythmic against your frontal walls on each thrust. A spot he gathers at, one that incinerates itself against his adept motions, insistent thumb gliding its touches about the sweet area of your apex, hurtling you faster towards a vehement finish.

“And that you are mine. Call my name, call for me.” 

“Rafayel, my Rafayel.” And you tumble over the edge at that final delightfully sensual push, quivering nerveless, in between your lovers.  

“There’s more of where that came from, kitten. Don’t give up on us now.” Sylus coaxes, extracting himself from the instinctual clench of your body, whimpering at the keen emptiness of his loss.  

“Give yourselves to me,” you beg, “I need to feel you inside me.”  

“And you shall have us,” Rafayel soothes, pressing the head of his cock against you.  

“As many times as you need.” Sylus allows; the swell of his arousal striking heavy against the cleft of your ass.

The slow ingress of their cocks deep into your body, sends explosive stars skittering across your vision, the overwhelming fullness already throttling you into another orgasm so intense, they have to hold your body still against theirs. Propelling into you in tandem with each other until they set a rhythmic, burning pace within your swollen holes.

Rafayel’s fingers cup about your jaw, dragging you into a fervid, wet kiss. His moans of pleasure he drowns against the heat of your tongue. 

Before Sylus lunges forward in a demand for your attentions next, strong digits threading through your locks to guide your head towards him, catching the string of pleasure that stretches thin in between your and Rafayel’s lips, as soon as it forms, against his mouth in a violent kiss.

The thick strength of his cock pulses firmer within your body, each swollen stroke of arousal you feel zip right up across your spine from how Sylus has taught your body to fit his daunting size, well. Each propulsion he carves deeper into your walls, a striking reminder of how intimately your body remembers the shape of him.   

Rafayel takes to painting littered marks of pleasure against your neck, their lengths already throbbing in impending release, searing within you. 

You squeeze about them at the sole, ruinous thought of their wet heats, flooding you soon. Moaning against Sylus’ mouth when their pacing turns reckless.

“Close,” Rafayel grits in need, cleaving your thighs up and open to constrain against Sylus, the man behind spares no mercy; hot scaffoldings of his own palms, he curves above Rafayel’s, so your sole choice is but to take. 

“I’m almost, fuck—” Sylus groans a filthy, guttural sound, “you’ve gone so tight, sweetheart.” Burying his face into the stretch of your shoulder, just as Rafayel’s mouth finds yours at the apex of his pleasure, spurting hot within you. 

Sylus’ own release, almost immediately after, his cock pulsates its thick release into your body, surge after surge of it, your body unable to accommodate it entirely. Their combined pleasures, the frenzied brush of both their fingers against your clit, sends you hurtling into your own orgasm, sobbing against Rafayel’s mouth.  

Emptying them both, of their seed, for yourself.

You fall breathless against Sylus, strength and consciousness both seeming to flee with the final sparks of quivering pleasure that jolt about your limbs. Letting yourself rest against the strength of Sylus’ body as he soothes a kiss onto your damp temple. “A job well done, sweetheart.” 

His final words, you accept in immense bliss, before entrusting yourself to your men in your vulnerability.  

A long time has drifted by you, it seems — minutes or hours — you cannot quite tell the difference as your mind edges the cusp of awareness. You recall the sensation of your lovers’ hands upon you, phantom breaths that persist against the expanse of your skin, still. Words of adoration, grunts of desire, the press of their lips you feel within each sweet ache of your body.  

The glancing touch of a hungering mouth, at the places you were weakest. The luxuriating stretch of silken sheets at your back — body coddled in soft fabric — as you shift, eyes drifting open on a haze of lust that still chokes your mind, a simmering wet heat kindling in between your legs. Flowing from you and onto an insistent tongue.  

Your breath catches in your throat at the sensation, gaze rushing down the expanse of your body to snag at the sight of a silver-haired head buried in between the space of your legs, moon-pale strands brushing the skin of your thighs in ticklish strokes. “Oh. You’re awake.” Xavier speaks, right into your pussy.  His fingers pulse about the catch of your legs, keeping you steady for a slow sweep of his tongue into your slit. Sending your fingers grappling forwards, into his hair, your hips lurching up into his mouth. 

Cheeks flushing fast into crimson at the realisation of how wet he’s made you, in your slumber alone. 

Xavier relents at last, rising from in between your legs. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” Your slick drenches his lips, smeared across his jaw; the sight sending a fresh jolt of arousal straight in between your legs.   

“Xavier,” your voice sounds hoarse to your own ears. “starlight.” 

He nuzzles his cheek, obedient, into the palm you stretch out for him. Pulses a wet kiss onto the expanse of sensitive skin. “We’re home.” He murmurs, clear cerulean eyes meeting yours. 

“How have you been?” The quiet baritone of Zayne’s voice reaches your ears from above, you notice your head lies cradled within his lap, the pads of roughened fingertips scraping gentle circles into your scalp. You shift yourself upright onto the bed.  

“Well. Now that you’re both here.” You curve coveting fingers about his jaw, luring his face closer to brush a gentle kiss against your lover’s mouth.  

Zayne’s long changed out of his stifling attire, clad in a loose robe — he’s eased himself by your side. Carding absent fingers through the fall of your hair to hold steady, as you greet each other in chaste kisses.  

The day’s harsh lines marred across his bow, softening with each kiss you flitter against his mouth, his cheeks, his lids apiece. He hasn’t had a proper weekend off from the hospital in ages; you’re determined to make the most of it now and help ease your beloved’s nerves tonight, and over the course of your rare days off. 

You all deserved it, this short moment of reprieve, a chance to celebrate and enjoy what was purely yours.  

You inch up across his lap, body much too aware of the moisture that soaks past swollen folds and leaks onto your thighs, an obscenity barely concealed by the flowing frills of your flimsy nightwear, caressing just past your ass. A fact, Xavier has not let you forget, owing to how his hands haven’t deprived you of their warmth, even when his mouth has — slow, stimulating touches across the stretch of your thighs, fingers tickling at the sensitive skin underneath your knees.  

Xavier advances up the length of the bed, with you. His torso draping onto your back, careful hands gathering your hair to shift onto your other side, he grazes a demure kiss onto the crescent of your exposed shoulder. 

You sink down upon Zayne, securing your much needed support, in the palms you press against the hard expanse of his chest. “How was your day?” Murmuring the question into the give of his neck.

“I had a graft and by-pass surgery planned earlier this afternoon.” Zayne replies, fingers trekking a measured path from your throat, down, along the slope of your clavicle; you shiver underneath his scrutiny. “It went well, so I was able to join you sooner rather than much later.”  

“Owing all to your brilliance surely, Dr. Zayne.” Your affectionate smile, you secrete against his mouth. “Xavier, however. I expected you sooner, starlight.”  

He hums — a sound of morose defeat — into your skin. “I nearly dozed on my feet during that unnecessarily long briefing.” Burying his face into the side of your neck, to breathe; his next murmurs stifled. “They could’ve just mailed the mission details to me. I wanted to head back with you too.” 

You laugh softly, sinking your fingers indulgently into the silken strands of his hair. “Captain Jenna would be so upset if she heard you right now.” 

“And you.” Large palms cup about the pliant flare of your waist, your breath hitches at Zayne’s provocative touch. “It certainly looks like those two did a somewhat decent job of taking care of you in our absence. The colour’s back in your cheeks.” 

You smile, sheepish, at the remembrance of your last meeting; his displeased frown, vivid, from across the barrier of his work desk, as he’d prescribed a few vitamins for you to take, owing to the sallow pallor that had taken your face, an aftermath of long sleepless nights chasing Wanderers.

“Oh, they have.” You assure, “Speaking of, where are my missing two?” 

Xavier’s teeth sink into a testing bite at the flesh of your neck. “Fixing a meal I think, Sylus mentioned.” He murmurs absently. 

“Ah. We should all have—” your voice fractures. “dinner together.” 

“Later.” Zayne leans forward, mouth skimming a gentle kiss in between your breasts. “Right now, I require you sate a different hunger of mine.” Teeth catching at the gauzy fabric of your lingerie. “Don’t make me wait any longer.” The low rugged quality to his request, pooling arousal deep into your belly.  

“I like how she looks in this,” Xavier smooths a touch down the length of your thigh, fingering, gentle, at the frilled garter of the stocking encasing it. “I’m almost jealous of you, Doctor.”  

“It is becoming on her,” Zayne agrees, large fingers cupping about the shape of your breasts, rolling at the peaks. You shift your hips in a grind upon his thigh, in an anguished effort for further stimulation. “But does the recipient herself approve of my gift?”  

“She does,” you gasp. “If it gets you looking at her with such need, she does—” The rest of your words, Zayne pilfers right into his mouth in an engulfing kiss. 

Strong fingers ghost the pliance of your body, down in between your legs to meet Xavier’s. Hot, glancing touches across your quivering pussy, coating their fingers in copious slick.  

“The doctor looks so wound up,” Xavier comments mildly. “Help him relieve some of that pent-up stress, baby.”  

“You—” Zayne grunts, just as Xavier steers your bodies until you lie, pliant, upon Zayne’s lap, the straining outline of his arousal barely concealed under the modesty of his robes. You moan enthusiastically, fingers undoing the fastenings of his robe to release him, free against eager lips.  

“That looks painful,” Xavier comments with an insouciant shrug, hands firming their grip about your ass to raise. “How long have you been holding back?” 

“Quiet, Xavier.” Zayne reproaches, voice throttled in raw need. 

Your heart and body immediately melting for him, you put your mouth to the head of his cock, taking him in.  

A quiver rips across his abdomen at the first lap of your tongue on him, his fingers gentle, encouraging within your hair. A vehement desire cascades forth: to see him make more of that expression, just for you.  

“Wet him for yourself, just like that.” Xavier encourages on a soft catch of breath, tapered fingers curving into your drenched slit to stroke against your frontal walls. 

Working your tongue steadily, about the generous girth of him — Zayne’s digits remain a patient point of pressure against your scalp — until he hits your throat, pleasant and full, at long last. You groan around him, Zayne swallowing heavily at the vibrations of your throat.  

“Don’t be gentle.” Xavier speaks, releasing himself from the wet confines of your clenching walls — fingers he unfurls forwards, to smear across the free length of Zayne’s cock, your throat could not accommodate.  

You feel Xavier settle heavy, upon the cleft of your ass; the head of his own cock he glides, indolent, in between your dripping folds.  

And just as your insides flutter in impatient emptiness at the baiting stimulation, he enters you on a swift stroke, your garbled sound of pleasure, sending you deeper onto Zayne.  

Xavier sets a furious, punishing pace for the three of you, your mouth working diligent against the hard strain of Zayne’s arousal. Your smothered cries of delight mixing with theirs, heated into the air; Zayne’s low guttural groans stirring deep into your belly, within the same space Xavier works open with his cock.  

Your silver beast descends upon you, mouth working a steady path along the length of your spine, tongue sweeping a cool, wet trail in its wake.  

His fingers reach to tuck stray strands of hair away from your face — easing them behind an ear before he gathers the fall of your hair into a gentle fist, granting an obstructed view of your ruination, to your lover in front. 

The pleasured flush dashed across Zayne’s cheekbones, hurtles higher to witness the wreck of desire you know is upon your face. He looks at you as if he wants to love and ruin you, it sends a jolt of inundating slick, right between your legs.  

Xavier grunts at your tightening walls, licking a strip up the curve of your ear. “Can I—” His voice ruptures in overwhelming arousal. “—inside? I want to. Let me?”  

Your answer; a moan of vehement assent, intermixing with Zayne’s responsive groan. Come for me, Xavier.  

His grip upon your hips turns bruising, pelvis driving hard against your ass until he’s releasing himself; hot, pulsating strokes of come, painting into you.  

He pulls almost immediately out of your quivering walls, palms shifting underneath your body to lift, until he positions you, right atop Zayne’s drenched cock. His seed still spilling out onto the swollen head of him, just as he coaxes your hips down to take Zayne in, the two of you groaning out in concert at your union.  

Zayne surges forwards, sweat soaked forehead pressing against yours; a low, inarticulate curse tumbles from his lips at the clench of your walls, still sensitised from Xavier’s release. 

“You’re burning up.” Long, thick digits curve beneath the nerveless stretch of your thighs, guiding you in deep, measured thrusts over his cock.  Xavier’s ministrations having had you well-prepared to accommodate Zayne in a single stroke. 

On usual days, your body able to accept him only in gradual, pleasurable propulsions, he works deep into your pussy.  

“Lean on me.” Zayne speaks.  

You do as he asks, appreciative of the reprieve allowed to let go and let Zayne guide you both into bliss. His fingers stroke about your entrance, a thumb he grazes against your clit, in an electrifying jolt of pleasure. 

“Come now.” He instructs the man at your back. Soothing a hand down the curve of your spine when you feel Xavier’s arousal, firmed into solid stone once more, at your entrance. You moan at the prospect of what’s to come. Never having accepted any of your lovers into the same space, when Zayne is inside you. 

“Breathe for me.” He asks of you. “Look at me.” And you do, in willing love; gaze finding his, coddled in the comfort of his verdant eyes — steady — even in the heated throes of your combined passion. “I am here for you.”  

Just as the head of Xavier’s cock presses, insistent at the base of Zayne’s, your body beginning to give into him. Zayne hastens to curb his grunt of pleasure into your mouth, tongues moving against the other as Xavier steadily strokes a slow path into you. 

Both your men settling whole and so incredibly full within your body, you sigh in shuddered stimulation when they navigate a rhythm in between your bodies, never leaving you empty for even a moment’s reprieve. A stretch so good, it stirs satisfaction deep into your stomach. The desire for them to leave you drenched up to your womb as you voice it on incoherent whispers, head rolling back onto Xavier’s shoulder.  

Their hands; gripping about the shell of your hips, down upon the flare of your thighs. Across the pinching stimulation of your breasts, your throat. Xavier’s fingers brushing to feel the desperate thrumming of your carotid beneath his hold.  

Sweeping an index across your damp lip, end to end, before he slips a finger into your mouth, toying at the pink of your tongue as it darts out for a taste.  

The fever of your desire streaks higher, passion so incinerating, it only takes Zayne a thumbing caress across your clit before you are convulsing, violent about the two of them in a loud, sobbing cry. Wetness slicking down your thighs despite the way they plug you, their pacing climbing faster with each swift second of inundating pleasure your clenching walls force upon them, chasing a high they seek to release into your body alone.  

And when they come with bated breaths and strangled groans, your combined essence overflows from in between your legs, staining the sheets wide and dark beneath. 

It is only several breathless moments later that you are able to move, body wasted and draped upon your chosen seat — Zayne does not look as if he minds much, smoothing a kiss onto the sweat-slick stretch of your breastbone. “Happy anniversary, my reckless Hunter.” And then in slower, softer words. “I love you.” 

You kiss your response against his mouth; a happy, languorous sound leaving your throat. Curving an arm tighter about Xavier nuzzled into the side of your waist, your gentle beast having settled into a short slumber, after having murmured of needing your warmth close by.  

The doors to their bedroom slide open just then, to admit Sylus, carrying what looks to be an expensive bottle of wine and a set of glasses, nestled onto a salver perched across his arm. Rafayel, following close on heel, with a large tray on hand; the pleasant scent that wafts from the steam laced spice off the fresh spread of food, triggers your bout of hunger.

“Reckless brutes,” Sylus comments, an amused brow he raises upon witnessing the utter disarray of your wrecked states. A smile that skews only wider with the distasteful knit to Zayne’s brow.  

As if he was one to speak, you would’ve snorted in defence, if you weren’t so drained. 

Xavier, too, stirs beside you at the commotion just as the last two men of your heart move to join you upon the vast bed. “Get up and eat.” Sylus instructs, rapping his fist against Xavier’s prone form. 

“You alright?” Rafayel questions, the moment he is seated at your side, reaching to entwine his fingers in between yours, a hoarse sound of approval you respond with, at his pleasant touch.  

In between Zayne and Rafayel, they guide your body into an upright position. 

Your head coasts sideways and onto Rafayel’s shoulder, in languid stupor, as he brings a spoon of hot broth to your lips. “Start with this, you’ll feel better once warmed from the inside.”  

“Warm her, they did already… from the ‘inside’ that is,” Sylus’ licentious whisper reaches your ears from the side, setting your face to an incandescent glow at the recollection. 

“Crude.” Rafayel reproaches — you do not, however, miss the scandalised red that seeps across his ears at his provocations.

You join in quiet laughter at Sylus’ words, burying your face deeper against Rafayel’s skin. A cosy arm he immediately brings about your shoulders to hold you close, as he continues to satiate your other, necessary hunger. 

His scent soothes and settles deep into your lungs, gaze trekking, absent, to the stretch of skin exposed beneath his unbuttoned shirt, from where you smell his perfume strongest. A sudden, stray thought of wanting to lap a path up against him, assaults your mind, sore body responding in feeble protest.  

A shadow falls upon you; Sylus’ thumb brushing, delicate, at the corner of your lips. “Eat well for now. Replenish your strength.” A kiss he nips onto your ear, you shiver at the muted stimulation. 

“Sylus—” 

“You’ll have your fill of us, as much as your heart desires, after.” He promises in decadent whispers.  

Your men, proving true to his words; the rest of your long night spent in seeking love against each other’s skins and within their embrace. 

Until they engrave proof of their existence — devotion and desire — scattered like scarlet jewels along the canvas of your body.

End Notes: This is my first foray into writing this kind of relationship for my favorite media and I enjoyed each excruciating second of agonizing over positions and 🍆s. Although I adore a hot poly romance just as much as the next person (cough Him&Him&Him), it certainly isn’t something I’ll personally be trying again any time soon LOL.

Likes, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated, if you are so inclined, and never fail to put a smile on my face.

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[kykyonthemoon]

His Mini Version

His reaction when he saw the little doll version of himself that you possessed.

── .✦ Character x Female Reader (MC)

Included parts in order: Rafayel, Xavier, Zayne, Sylus, Caleb.

♡︎. Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, soft and sweet, plush dolls, established relationship, jealousy (Xavier's part), long distance relationship (Caleb's part)

♡︎. Word count: ~2k4

♡︎. Requested by Yue AuV.

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic - closed for the time being.

Rafayel

“Huh?”

Rafayel picked up the plush doll on the table, examined it for a moment, then turned to you and asked, "Is this how you think of me?"

You blinked. "Lovely, right?"

Rafayel frowned. He raised the doll to your eye level and said:

“Hear me out, Miss Bodyguard. I do look handsome and stylish, my physique is toned, with a model-like form. Yet, why... Why is this doll that you believe to resemble me so... chubby?"

"Rafayel!" You shrieked and swiftly grabbed both hands to cover the doll's ears. "How can you say that in front of Little Fish?! He'll feel terrible for himself!"

Rafayel gazed at you, then at the plush doll you had just given a name. His body was spherical, with small arms and legs coming out of it. His face was likewise round and fully linked to his body, resembling a huge cotton ball with purple hair patches on top.

"I've gained a little weight lately," Rafayel said, pouting while rubbing his belly. “But I'm definitely not that round!”

“I made him exactly like you for a purpose. Criticizing him means you are criticizing yourself.”

Rafayel did not give up. He took up Little Fish and brought it near to your face so you could compare. 

“Don't you think he's muuuuuuuuch less attractive than me? His body is not as beautiful as mine. He is not as cute or talented as me. Can he paint? Can he make you laugh? What makes you think he can ever replace me?!”

You tried not to laugh when Rafayel puffed up his cheeks, looking like a pufferfish, even identical to that plump plush doll. You replied:

“Well, you don't know that Little Fish also has a very special feature that is different from other dolls!” 

"What's so amazing about it? Tell me."

You extended your hands to accept the doll from Rafayel. When you gently squeezed the center of his chest, Little Fish made a sound mimicking Rafayel's voice:

“Hello Miss Bodyguard! Hello Miss Bodyguard!”

Rafayel stared at him with wide eyes. His demeanor changed from astonished to slightly suspicious.

"I recorded your voice," you added. "Simply hit the button, and he will talk. I can make a new recording if you want. What do you think? He's good, huh?"

You enthusiastically hugged Little Fish and approached him. Rafayel simply scratched his head. “Humans certainly have many strange toys,” he commented. But in the end, seeing you having so much fun with the plush doll, he patted your head and said: "Even though it's a bit ugly and weird compared to my standards, I'm still happy that Miss Bodyguard likes me so much that she even owns a plush doll designed after me!"

Xavier

Since joining Lumiere's fanclub, which was founded by your colleague Nero, you frequently brought home merchandise related to him. There were badges, cards, decorations, and even cotton goods. Among the dozens of Lumiere products that take up room in your residence on a daily basis, you absolutely adored the plush doll named Lumi.

Lumi had two bunny ears and was only a little larger than your hand, making him easy to carry anywhere and at any time. When you worked, he would stand on the desk to encourage you. When you trained, he would slip into your coat pocket and patiently wait for you on the bench. Every time you went out, you carefully put him in your bag. When you arrived home, he was usually on the couch next to you, or cuddled in your arms while you watched TV together. Even when you slept, you would bring him into bed, place him next to your pillow and cover him with a blanket.

Needless to say, this made Xavier quite uneasy. He had not liked Lumi one bit since he appeared in your arms for the first time. The plush doll occupied all your attention. He accompanied you everywhere, all the time. Your phone was full of pictures of him. Even when you slept, the doll was allowed to sleep with you while Xavier was left out. He sat on the edge of the bed, crossing his arms and glancing at Lumi.

“That's it, kiddo.”

Lumi opened his large blue eyes to stare at Xavier.

“You must leave.”

A rabbit ear on Lumi's head drooped down. 

“Give her back to me. Besides, the place where you sleep used to be mine."

The plush doll continued to stare at him with such innocence. Just as Xavier was about to pick him up, you walked into the room. You had changed your clothing, and of course, your pajamas included Lumiere's chibi pattern on them.

“What are you talking about with little Lumi?” You asked.

“Ah, nothing. I'm just telling him to go away.”

"Huh? Why? He's so little, he won't take up too much room on the bed, right?"

Xavier gave him a glance before turning to you, and his eyes quickly returned to their round, watery condition.

“He's been following you all day. Why does he even take my place at night? Do you really like him more than me?”

Xavier knew too well that you easily got softened when he acted like that. If Lumi's cuteness captured your heart, he would reclaim it by the same method.

“It's not like that,” you replied. One of your hands caressed Xavier's cheek. “Lumi is the one who will protect me in my dreams on the long nights while you're not here.”

Xavier rubbed his face into your palm. He said, “But now that I'm here, Lumi can go elsewhere.”

You thought what he said was right. So you compromised and placed the doll on the opposite side of your pillow, rather than between you and Xavier as previously. You snuggled into Xavier's arms. He remained silent, as if he had a lot on his mind. Then, after you had fallen asleep, he covertly grabbed Lumi and threw him to the ground, then hugged you even tighter.

Zayne 

You set a lunch box on Zayne's desk, then placed something else on top. 

It was a little plush doll measuring about ten centimeters. He had black hair, green bean eyes with a little brownish-yellow tint, he also donned a white blouse just like a certain doctor. 

“What do you have there? A mini version of me, it seems?” Zayne asked while putting away the files on his desk to prepare for lunch with you.

“Hehe,” you happily took the doll. He nestled into the palm of your hand. “Doctor Zayne, look how small you are! I can hold you with just one hand.”

Zayne gave you a little grin. Then he grabbed your other hand, pulling you closer to him.

"Of course." But if you use both hands, you'll be able to handle more than one Doctor Zayne.

You grasped both big and small Zayne with care.

Lunch that day went really well. Before departing, you slipped the little plush doll inside your coat pocket on the left side of your chest, patted it a few times, and told Zayne:

“This is where tiny Zayne will stay every day.  I will take him everywhere, including work, amusement parks, and even home. He will always be by my side!”

Zayne smiled and responded, "It turns out that I can cure not only your heart disease, but also your love sickness?"

You blushed. The Zayne standing in front of you suddenly leaned down, as if talking to the little doll in your pocket: "Miss Hunter and this plush doll's entire day would be so hectic. Would you mind asking her whether she still has time to join me for dinner tonight?"

You laughed when you noticed Zayne's childishness. You replied: “Of course I do. But after all, little Zayne is still an intern here. What are Doctor Zayne's thoughts about being his mentor?"

Zayne stood up straight, tenderly touching the doll's cheek with his finger. "All right. I'll be spending time with Intern Zayne. But when I do that, the lady who takes care of Intern Zayne should come along as well.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Zayne's fingers rose to push on your face. You puffed up your cheeks and nodded firmly in accord. From that day on, all your dates with Zayne were accompanied by little Intern Zayne, and he even made arrangements for the doll to have a separate seat by the windshield of his car.

Sylus

Sylus made frequent late-night visits to your place. That night was no exception. But he was astonished to see you open the door with a worn out expression, dragging a big plush doll on the ground.

"Why does it look so familiar?" Sylus spoke after studying the doll. He was around sixty centimeters tall, with white hair, red eyes like two rubies, and a signature smirk that looked so much like Sylus's.

"Huh? Oh, Baby Crow is a mini version of you!” You replied. After closing the door, you strolled back to the living room, holding the doll. You and him fell onto the sofa. Feeling tired after a long day, you had decided to hug the doll to bed before Sylus arrived.

He looked at you and that Baby Crow doll on the sofa and clicked his tongue. “It's a little huge compared to the definition of mini. And what the heck are you putting on me?”

Sylus snatched him out of your grasp. The doll - his little version - was dressed in pink Hello Kitty patterned pajamas,  identical to the ones you were wearing. He frowned.

“You and the doll even have matching pajamas. Where are mine then?”

Slowly opened your eyes on the sofa, you giggled: "Seeing that you like it so much, I will make you a set tomorrow. There are also Kuromi ones."

Sylus leaned down and kissed your hair, whispering: "Sleeping on the sofa will hurt your body." Then he helped you get up. You wrapped all of your limbs around Sylus's torso, as he held you with one hand and carried Baby Crow inside the room with the other.

Another night, when Sylus arrived home late, he caught you cuddling Baby Crow and sleeping soundly on the bed. Both of you were wearing the purple Kuromi pajamas you had mentioned before. He grinned as he softly punched Baby Crow. 

“Hey, you're taking up my space,” he told him.

The plush doll's challenging smile appeared to be taunting him. Sylus removed him from your arms and placed him at the end of the bed. Because there was nothing left to hug, you rolled over slightly, your fingers constantly searching for warmth until you found him.

Sylus took the doll's place, held you, and allowed you to immerse yourself in his arms. He said quietly: "You don't need a plush version of me anymore when you have the real one here, right?"

The next morning, still drowsy, you cuddled him and told him that your Baby Crow had grown into a genuine person.

Caleb

Caleb sent you a surprise package. Curious, you opened it and discovered a plush doll the size of a pillow inside. What was worth noting was that the doll resembled him, with purple eyes and an apple on his head. You phoned to show off to Caleb, who was still on duty at Skyhaven.

“Oh, you got him? I mean, Baby Cal?”

“You even have a name for him?” You grabbed the doll and placed him in your lap so Caleb could see him through the video call screen.

"Of course. I purposefully ordered him specifically for you. He's a present.” Caleb smiled brightly. He was free at the time, but his mission had yet to end so he could not come home to you right away.

You gazed down at the doll on your lap. He was so warm, and his adorable chubby face reminded you so much of Caleb. You inquired:

“But why did you send him to me?”

"To keep you company when I'm away on missions, of course," was his reply. "He will remind you to eat and go to bed on time, or hug you when you're weary."

You touched Cal's head. It was true; he was so soft that you simply wanted to squeeze him.

"Is this your compensation for not coming home for a month?"

Caleb laughed. He seemed a little sad. Then he instantly returned to his regular fresh appearance.

“Do you like him?”

"Of course. I can even release my rage on him every time I'm angry at you. Look!”

Having said that, you squeezed the doll's cheeks really hard. Caleb laughed from the other side of the screen. "Poor, little Cal. It looks like he'll have to take my position as your punching bag for a while now."

You kneaded the doll's cheeks again. He even donned a military uniform similar to Caleb's. The doll would not be able to replace him, you know; yet his existence would sooth your longing for the real person.

You leaned your head against Cal and asked Caleb:

“I have Cal here. What about you?”

“Oh, wait a minute.”

Caleb disappeared from the screen. You heard a rustling noise. A few minutes later, he emerged with another plush doll dressed in a Hunter suit. You immediately recognized it as a plush replica of yourself.

“This is little Hunter,” said Caleb. “She and little Cal are a couple. Every time I look at her, I will always think of you. For example, when I enter the room, she will appear and say: 'Why haven't you bought a ticket to Linkon yet?!' or 'You still dare to stay up late playing games?!'..."

You burst into laughter. "I didn't say it in that awful voice. But how old are you to even buy these things?..."

“I've been teased a lot by colleagues these past few days since I got little Hunter,” Caleb told you. “But since I think you also like plushies, I wanted to make something for you.”

"Thank you." You smiled, lovingly rubbing the doll he sent. “I like little Cal, but he's going to miss little Hunter very much. You mentioned that they were a couple. It means they should not be apart for too long, right?”

[missaengg]

Xavier is an Insatiable, Little Freak

Day 24 of Kinktober: Visions of Temptation hosted by @xxsycamore found here Featuring: Love and Deepspace | Xavier x f!reader Tags: mdni, smut, pwp, deepthroating, rough oral sex, face-fucking, fucking, p in v sex, creampie, Xavier is a freak Prompts: Deepthroating | “I can't stand a second more of not being inside you.” A/N: Ahhh... and I've finally caught up to Day 24 T.T ... minus a few days I skipped... ao3 link here.

Xavier needs to have his dick inside of you. Constantly. Doesn’t matter where as long as his cock is buried in you.

Your mouth. Your hands. Your thighs. Your breasts. Your sweet cunt.  Anywhere his dick can fit.

He just has to feel you wrapped around him.

He’s an insatiable, little freak.

It doesn’t matter if you’re going to sleep. Or cooking in the kitchen. Or taking a shower after a long, brutal day of fighting wanderers.

He needs to feel you.

And when he does feel your delicious warmth around his pulsing, trembling cock, he can’t help, but shower you with wave after wave of his scorching cum.

On the couch. On the bed. On the kitchen counters. On the floor. On the balcony. Against the mirror. Against the window. 

It doesn’t matter where as long as he gets to be inside of you.

You’re playing video games on the couch when he suddenly sticks his dripping cock into your wet mouth, curling his fingers into your hair, pumping into you with the desperation of a man deprived, getting off on hearing you choke and mewl and drool as his cock mercilessly bullies you, his fat tip slamming into your soft palate, refusing to stop until he’s painted the back of your throat white. 

Even as you push against his thighs. Even as you hit him with your fists. Even as you sputter and whine and gag.

It just excites him more.

And if you’re out in public, if you even brush against him, he’ll achingly groan, his eyes fluttering shut, a pained expression clouding his cherubic, chiseled face, and he’ll say… 

“I can’t stand a second more of not being inside you.”

Then he’s pushing you into a changing room, a closet, a bathroom, anywhere that has a shred of privacy before he’s bending you over, thrusting urgently into you without a single care for decency like this is the last time he’ll get to taste you, to feel your weeping pussy sucking in his needy, thick cock, and he won’t stop until he’s stuffed you full with his cum.

And he’s wearing a shit-eating grin from the mere knowledge his cum is pooling in your underwear while everyone you talk to is unaware of how lewdly you were crying out his name just moments before.

It doesn’t matter how many times he’s had you. 

Once. Twice. Thrice.

The record for one day is eight.

He’ll go all day if you let him.

And Xavier knows you’ll let him.

Because you’re an insatiable, little freak too.

[ilovemitsuya]

Hiii!!! Can I request a ff where reader is sick and is trying to hide it from Sylus but he notices right away and insists he take care of her.

sylus x reader

The first signs were easy enough to ignore. A dull ache in my chest, a persistent weariness that clung to me no matter how much I rested. I told myself it was just stress, but as the days passed the symptoms grew worse. My strength began to wane, and the pain became harder to hide. I stared at my computer not noticing a hand on my shoulder.

“Are you okay? You’ve been staring at your screen for a while now.” I look over my shoulder to see Tara staring at me.

“I’m fine, just feeling under the weather.” I said as I looked away from her.

“I think you should take it easy. You’ve been overworking yourself a lot.” She thought for a moment, her finger resting on her chin. “I know! Me and the others are going to do karaoke you should join us.”

I thought about it for second. I could really use the time to go out but I couldn’t even speak, let alone sing. “I’m sorry can we do it next time?”

Tara put on a frown “Awh, next time you better go. Promise?”

I looked at her with a smile

“Promise.”

Besides, I’m meeting up with Sylus later on. Suddenly i remembered that he had a business trip he was talking about. He said I had to go but I can’t let him see me like this. Otherwise he would stay with me and not even go himself. It was an important trip I didn’t want to ruin it for him.

I knew Sylus would notice eventually.

He was too observant, too attuned to every detail of my life.

So I hid it. I avoided his gaze when I would have to excuse myself when the coughing fits became too intense. I thought I was being careful, and that I could keep this secret until I found a way to manage it on my own.

But I underestimated him.

╔══════╗

“You're late, sweetie." he said, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. “If I had to wait any longer I would’ve sent Mephisto out looking for you.”

Sylus said leaning back on his motorcycle.

“Yeah, that won’t be necessary.”

Sylus gave me one last look before he threw a motorcycle helmet my way nearly dropping it.

He patted the seat behind him when he noticed I wasn’t moving.

I was way too tired to even move.

“Get on or I’m leaving without you.”

I snap out of my thoughts and quickly scram to sit behind him.

———-

At first it was subtle. A slight hesitation in her step, a flash of pain quickly masked by a practiced smile. Sylus watched her from the corner of his eye, his mind a whirlwind of calculations.

She was careful. Too careful. Avoiding his gaze when she thought he wasn't looking, suppressing coughs when she thought he wasn't listening. But Sylus knew. He always knew.

He sat in the chair by the window, the vastness of the space outside doing very little to calm his mind. His fingers tapped against the armrest, each tap a mark of his growing frustration. Something was wrong; he could feel it in his bones.

“Mephisto, keep a close eye on her.”

caw caw

She had been acting differently for days now. And while she thought she had done her best to hide it, Sylus was not one to be easily deceived.

╔══════╗

I knew he started watching me more closely. His eyes narrowing with that sharp, calculating look I knew so well. I could feel his suspicion growing, could sense the weight of his gaze on me even when I wasn't looking. But I kept up the act, clinging to the hope that I could keep him in the dark just a little longer.

Later that evening he barged in the room without warning, his presence filling the room with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. I looked up, startled, meeting his eyes only to see the truth in them - he knew.

"You're sick," Sylus stated, his voice low and void of the warmth he had once reserved for me.

For a moment, I tried to deflect, to brush it off as nothing. "What? I’m perfectly fine.” I said trying to hold in my cough. Perfect timing.

But it was the way the energy shifted in the room. The way he loomed over me with a commanding presence, his expression unreadable made it clear there was no escaping this. "Don't lie to me." he hissed, and the force of his words sent a shiver down my spine.

"You're hiding something."

I shook my head, standing to meet him. But there was a hesitation in my movements, a reluctance I couldn't fully hide. "No, I haven't. I've just been... tired. There's nothing to worry about."

But Sylus was done with her evasions.

He grabbed her wrist, not roughly, but firmly enough to stop her from retreating.

"Don't lie to me, Sweetie." he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"Something's wrong. I can see it. You've been hiding it from me, and I want to know why."

I pulled my wrist from his grasp and took a step back, shaking my head. "It's nothing, Sylus. I'm fine.

You don't need to worry."

"Don't you dare try to shut me out," he growled, his tone sharper than he intended. "I know something is wrong, and I won't let you deny it."

Sylus thought she might continue to deny it. But then she crumbled, her shoulders slumping as she finally let her guard down.

"I've been feeling sick," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "It started a few days ago, and it's just been getting worse. I didn't want to tell you because I wanted you to let me go to that business trip with you.”

He shook his head, his hand reaching out to cup my cheek with a surprising gentleness.

“Is that what this is all about? You were hiding your sickness because you wanted me to let you go on the business trip?”

I leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand grounding me in a way I hadn't felt in days. "Yes, I’m sorry.”

His expression hardened again, but there was a softness in his eyes that made my heart ache. "Well, you’re right, you’re not going."

“But I—“

“I’m canceling the trip. I’m staying here with you until you feel better.”

He looked back at me, and for a brief moment, I saw something tender in his gaze, something that reminded me why I had fallen for him in the first place.

“I knew something was wrong. Mephisto snitched you out.”

That damn bird.

"Let's get you to bed," he said softly, his voice gentle but firm. "You need to rest."

He picked me up bridal style and held me in his arms.

"I'm fine, Sylus. I don't need to be treated like-"

He silenced her with a look, one that she couldn’t argue against. "You need to rest," he repeated, his tone leaving no room for discussion. "And I'm going to make sure you do."

Without waiting for her response, Sylus guided her toward the bed.

She hesitated for a moment, but the exhaustion was too much, and she allowed him to help her lie down.

Sylus moved with a surprising gentleness, adjusting the pillows and smoothing the blankets as he settled her in.

Once she was comfortable, he sat down beside she on the edge of the bed. His hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. His touch was soft, tender. A stark contrast to the man who ruled Onychinus with an iron fist.

"You've been pushing yourself too hard," he murmured, his eyes studying her face with an intensity that was almost protective.

"You need to let me take care of you. You’re like a sick kitten who needs to be monitored."

I looked up at him, my eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and vulnerability.

"I didn't want to worry you,"

Sylus's expression softened even further, his thumb gently tracing the outline of my cheek. "You worrying me by hiding things is worse," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "You don't have to do this alone. I'm here for you."

He leaned down, pressing his cheek to my forehead, lingering there for a moment as if he was attempting to strengthen me.

When he pulled back, my eyes were already starting to droop, the weight of the day finally catching up. But even as sleep began to claim me, I reached out, my hand finding his.

"Sylus," I murmured, voice drowsy. "Stay with me?"

"I'm not going anywhere,” he promised. His voice steady. He slipped under the blankets, his arms wrapping around me protectively. "I'll be right here when you wake up."

Sylus held her close, his fingers gently stroking her hair. He listened as her breathing slowly evened out, the tension in her body melting away as she drifted into sleep.

For a long time, Sylus simply watched her. His mind racing with plans for when she wakes up. As she slept, Sylus allowed himself to relax, the tight coil of worry in his chest loosening for the first time in days. He would take care of her, no matter what it took. Because she was worth protecting at all costs.

I’ll kiss anyone who requests

[starmocha]

but grandma i love him! (and him and him and him and him) [Sylus/Reader, Xavier/Reader, Rafayel/Reader, Caleb/Reader, Zayne/Reader ★ 2808 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] 5 times Grandma Josephine meets your boyfriend + 1 time she meets your boyfriends. Or: AU where everything is the exact same, but Grandma Josephine lives, but wishes she didn’t so she doesn’t have to know how much of a hoe her granddaughter is. A/N: I wrote most of this, days before Sylus’ myth dropped as a way to cope with the impending and inevitable pain (and oh, was there so much pain with his myth…). I suddenly remembered this a month later, so I rushed to finish it before Caleb comes home again. This is very, very silly and full-on crackhead energy :’) Tag list: @miudle @alfredosaws @nezukoo-channn @voidsylus @rose-tinted-kalopsia @valkyyriia @lavlynyan 【 request to be added 】

Josephine had lived a long life, far longer than she would have anticipated for herself. When one lived as long as she had, mistakes were made and regrets inevitable. That was just life.

She knew that, of course, having pocketed many pearls of wisdom as she had navigated this long road, but that still did not make her feel any less foolish for her recent mistake.

It had seemed so innocent. So pedestrian, really.

How could she have realized that asking to meet her granddaughter’s boyfriend would be one of her greatest mistakes and biggest regret of her life?

one.

“Grandma, this is…Skye,” you said with a forced smile as you gestured to your partner.

‘Skye’ stifled his chuckle and extended a hand to the elderly woman. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Josephine,” he said politely with a charming smile, “Your granddaughter talks fondly about you.”

Josephine smiled in delight, never imagining her granddaughter would bring home a very attractive man. It was like she was looking at a work of art created by God Himself. She shook the young man’s hand happily. “Come in, come in, dinner is ready. We can chat as we eat.”

As dinner progressed, the conversation remained lively. This Skye certainly had a way with his words, his charisma was so radiantly brilliant. Josephine had also never seen her granddaughter as happy as she looked now, noticing how the two would often share sweet whispered secrets when they both thought the old woman wasn’t watching.

Oh, youth, Josephine observed with wistful envy.

After dinner, Josephine left her granddaughter alone in the kitchen to do the dishes as she went to her bedroom to retrieve a family photo album to reminisce over. Along the way, she unwittingly walked in on Skye having a private conversation on the phone in the hallway. She was about to turn away before he noticed when she paused, hearing a peculiar comment from Skye:

“Hm, so they had thought I would be there to be ambushed, did they?”

Ambushed? Josephine furrowed her brows in concern.

“Never mind, I trust you and Luke had taken care of things, correct?”

Taken care? Josephine went pale.

“Hm, they should know that Onychinus does not take betrayal so kindly.”

Motherfucking Onychinus?!

Josephine immediately raced back to the kitchen, not noticing ‘Skye’s’ amused smirk.

You were just finishing the last of the dishes when Josephine grabbed you by the shoulders, shaking you immediately and making you nearly dropped the plate you were holding.

“Dear, you have to break up with that man!”

You stared wide-eyed, feeling completely blindsided. “B-but why? I thought you liked Skye, Grandma!”

Josephine looked at you nervously, swallowing slowly before she spoke in a hushed tone, “Dear, I…I just heard him having a conversation…I…I think he’s part of…that notorious group…Onychinus.”

“Oh,” you said flatly.

Josephine stared, confused. “‘Oh’?” she echoed back, flabbergasted. “Dear, I don’t think you understand. Onychinus is a very dangerous group.”

“Uh, yeah, dangerous,” you agreed, tone flat. “Super dangerous…”

Josephine started to get annoyed, not understanding why you were behaving so flippantly about this bombshell news she had just dropped. “Dear, Onychinus is wanted for many crimes. Its leader—”

“Sylus,” you said.

“Right—wait, you know his name?”

“She should.” Josephine heard ‘Skye’s’ deep, smooth voice as he stepped back into the kitchen. “She is dating him.”

Josephine felt like her brain had just short-circuited as she watched this man walked over and leaned down to kiss her granddaughter on the lips.

“Did you even try to be discreet?” You scolded Sylus with a frown after he pulled away.

He chuckled and shook his head. “I saw her from the side,” he admitted, adding, “And I don’t like being kept a secret so…”

“You—mmph!” Sylus immediately kissed you again before you could scold him.

Josephine watched this exchange uncomfortably, feeling like she was having an out-of-body experience as her brain tried to comprehend that her sweet granddaughter, one of the top hunters in Linkon City, was in a relationship with a notorious wanted crime boss.

“I…I need some tea…” she managed after a pause.

“Oh, I’ll make some for you, Grandma!” You pulled away from Sylus immediately, rushing to the cabinet.

At that moment, Sylus’ phone rang. He took a glance at the screen and apologized. “Sorry, I have to take this call.”

Once he was out of the room, Josephine immediately rushed over to you, pulling you to the side. “Dear, do you realize what you are doing?”

“…making tea?”

“Don’t get wise with me, young lady,” she chided you instantly with a strong glare, “You know what I am talking about.”

“…Sylus?”

“Haven’t you thought about how problematic this relationship could be?”

“He does have a strange obsession with crows…”

Josephine looked bewildered. “What does that mean—never mind, I meant that he’s a felon!”

“A little bit, yeah…”

“Dear, is dating a criminal your way of getting back at me for not getting you that pony when you were eight?”

“N-no! Of course not!” You protested. “Besides, Sylus also has this amazing horse, although if I have to be honest, I prefer riding Sylus—”

Josephine had decided that was the perfect moment to black out.

“…motorcycle?! Grandma?!”

two.

Grandma, I have someone I would like you to meet! :)

Josephine felt relief when she had seen that text message her granddaughter had sent. It seemed Sylus was no longer in the picture, she thought, a little worried about any repercussion that could come from splitting with a dangerous crime boss.

As she glanced at the message again, the little smiley face at the end of the sentence calmed the old woman instantly. There was probably nothing to worry about. You seemed pleasant. Cheerful, even.

This was a good sign.

The following Saturday afternoon, Josephine was positively thrilled to meet her granddaughter’s new boyfriend, Xavier. She was immediately charmed by his princely appearance and soft-spoken and polite way of speaking. He truly looked like he had stepped out of a fairy tale.

After introductions were made, you had excused yourself from the group after receiving an urgent phone call from Tara. The other woman was in such an overly anxious state, ranting something about her cat? It took you nearly ten minutes to finally calm your friend before you were able to hang up and return to the group.

Stepping into the living room, you were surprised to see only your grandmother sitting in her chair. You furrowed your brows, feeling a strange knot forming in your stomach. Nervously, you stepped over to your grandmother.

“Wait, where’s Xavier?”

Josephine smiled. “In the kitchen,” she answered, not noticing your face was paling. “He mentioned he wanted to heat up the dish you both brought over in the oven—”

“In the oven?!”

“Yes, the oven—”

The fire alarm blared as dark thick smokes billowed from the kitchen, but thanks to the bravery and promptness of the men and women of Linkon FD, the fire was put out in less than fifteen minutes.

Josephine remained in her chair, face covered in soot, her voice peculiarly neutral. “Dear…”

“Insurance will cover this, don’t worry, and if not, I will buy you a new—”

“I don’t even like tuna casserole.”

“I told you we should have made chicken potpie.”

“Xavier—that’s…that’s not the issue…”

three.

When her granddaughter mentioned bringing an artist over, Josephine had some doubts. She worried about her granddaughter having to support a struggling artist until he could make a name for himself, but even if she did voice her concern, it would most likely have the opposite effect and just make that man seem even more desirable in her granddaughter’s eyes.

It wouldn’t do. She didn’t want to meddle, but she hoped things would just naturally end on its own terms.

Her worries instantly disappeared when her granddaughter sent her a photo of the young couple at an art exhibition. Josephine’s eyes caught the name of the artist as well as the face of the young man with his arm around her granddaughter’s waist in the photo.

Wait.

Rafayel.

This was The Rafayel.

As old as she was, Josephine kept up with the news. She recognized both the name and the face of the artist. She laughed heartily to herself, tickled that her pretty granddaughter managed to catch the eyes of a well-known artist such as Rafayel.

Her worries eased, knowing her granddaughter had just secured her future being entwined with someone as successful as Rafayel. She immediately started planning a wedding. Maybe even a guest nursery in her home for when the happy couple would visit with hopefully numerous great-grandchildren.

From this moment all the way to the next Sunday for brunch, the old woman had an extra pep in her steps. As she exited a taxi, Josephine found herself at a well-known restaurant, popular with brunch for the younger crowd. It was typically packed and hard to get in, but Josephine supposed someone as influential as Rafayel would have no problem securing a table.

“Grandma, over here!” you rushed over to hug your grandmother. After kissing her cheek, you sighed playfully, “You know Rafayel and I offered to pick you up. You didn’t have to take a taxi.”

“Nonsense, an old woman like me is perfectly capable of getting around by herself,” she chided you gently. She patted your hand reassuringly as you both walked arm linked into the restaurant. “This is so exciting, darling. I have been looking forward to meeting Rafayel all week long.”

“Wonderful!” you exclaimed, beaming, “He is really the sweetest, Grandma. You will love him. He gotten us a table outside. It really is beautiful out there.”

Well, Josephine can check off meeting a famous artist on her bucket list.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Josephine,” Rafayel greeted the older woman with a charming smile. “I have heard so much about you from this cutie over here.”

“Ra-Rafayel,” you protested with a blush and then whispered harshly under your breath to him, “N-not in front of Grandma…”

He smiled, shrugging. “Sorry, cutie, force of habit.”

“You did it again…”

Josephine laughed and reassured her blushing granddaughter. “You two really are the cutest thing ever,” she said, smiling in gratitude as Rafayel helped seat the older woman.

The time passed with a lot of pleasantries and sharing stories over a delicious array of food. Smoked salmon, quiche, waffles, fruit salad, and bellinis filled three happy bellies. Just as Josephine was already planning on speed-dialing a wedding planner, she noticed Rafayel’s face did a complete 180.

“Rafayel? Are you alright, dear—”

“M-m-m-monster!”

“Excuse me?” Josephine glared when Rafayel pointed at her.

“N-no, Grandma, it’s not you,” you quickly protested, standing up and rushing to Rafayel when he stumbled out of his seat shaking in fear. “Rafayel, calm down! It’s just a—”

“Meow.”

“Oh!” Josephine laughed when an orange cat leapt onto the table, purring happily at the plate with some leftover smoked salmon. She laughed and started petting its head as the cat greedily licked the plate and ate the remaining morsels. “Where did you come from, little one?”

The cat purred happily amid Rafayel’s screams.

“Rafayel, ca-calm down!” You trailed after Rafayel as he backed away.

“Get that monster away from me!”

“Rafayel! Come back!”

Josephine sighed.

After filling its belly with some delicious salmon, the cat napped in the old woman’s lap, purring contently as its ear was scratched. At that moment, the waiter walked over and placed the bill in front of Josephine to her surprise.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she griped once she realized her granddaughter and Rafayel were both gone.

four.

“Oh, dear, I am so excited to meet this one,” Josephine said, meaning every single word, “The way you described him makes him sound like quite a catch.”

Tall, handsome, intelligent, and with the added bonus of being good in the kitchen! There was no way this one wouldn’t be a perfect match for her sweet, darling granddaughter, who, after all, deserved only the best in life.

You laughed. “Grandma, what are you talking about? You know him.”

Josephine blinked, confused. “…I do?”

“Yeah, it’s—”

“Where’s my favorite pipsqueak?”

You gasped as you felt an arm wrapped around your waist, easily lifting you up. You blushed. “Caleb!”

Josephine laughed. “Caleb, you didn’t tell me you were coming home to visit.”

Caleb looked confused as he settled you back down to the floor, but his arm remained wrapped around your waist. “I thought Pipsqueak mentioned it to you already?”

Josephine frowned. “I don’t believe so,” she said, adding, “But what bad timing, we’re having a guest tonight and—”

She paused, suddenly noticing how Caleb’s arm still remained wrapped around your waist and the way you leaned in close against him. You were all giggly and blushing like a schoolgirl.

“…and…”

“Um, Grandma,” You started feebly, “Caleb is my boyfriend.”

“No, he’s not.”

“Uh, yes, he is.”

“No, he’s not.”

“Grandma—”

“No, he’s not.”

“Caleb!”

“Gran, I—”

“I am taking a nap!” Josephine declared, determined to wake up from this surreal dream she was having.

“Caleb—”

“Shh,” he quietly shushed you. “Gran is taking a nap…”

You glared at him, sighing in defeat as Josephine sat in her chair, blanket over her lap, and she closed her eyes, cursing whatever deity who had decided she needed to deal with this weird-ass situation at her age.

five.

Josephine smiled serenely as she watched you and Zayne make dinner together in your kitchen.

Finally, a good man.

Zayne was always the sweetest little boy, and it pleased Josephine to see he had grown into a kind and caring man with a successful career and highly-respected reputation among his peers. Zayne had effortlessly ticked off every single box in Josephine’s list of criteria for a grandson-in-law: intelligent, kind, patient, respectful, charming, handsome, successful, loving. There was not a single flaw in this young man.

“My love, come taste this,” Zayne called out as he held up a wooden spoon.

Oh, my. Even Josephine couldn’t help but blushed and felt her heart fluttering at witnessing how sweetly affectionate Zayne was with you.

“What do you think?” he asked.

You pondered, licking your lips lightly. You smiled. “Maybe just a little more soy sauce?”

Zayne nodded. “Okay,” he said, “Could you grab the bottle for me then?”

“Of course, Zaddy—”

You froze.

Zayne froze.

Josephine stared.

“Za…Zaddy?” Josephine questioned from across the kitchen island.

“It’s…nothing,” Zayne said, his ears turning red, “Just a silly nickname.”

Josephine nodded, seemingly accepting his weak explanation. “How long until dinner is ready?”

You swallowed nervously and barely managed to rasp out: “An hour…maybe?”

“I’ll just take a quick nap if you two don’t mind—oh, don’t trouble yourself, dear.”

“Okay, Grandma, you can nap on my bed…” You said feebly, a little perplexed by how…calm she seemed.

Josephine nodded again and walked to your bedroom. She sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled out her phone, searching up ‘Zaddy’ online.

She wished she hadn’t.

+ one.

This was a dream.

A motherfucking dream.

And not even a good one.

Josephine stared at all of the tall, handsome men—and Caleb—towering behind her granddaughter.

“…Dear, I thought you were dating Zayne.” She glanced at the young doctor who looked away in embarrassment.

“I am,” you answered nonchalantly, confused by your grandmother’s behavior.

“…Didn’t you break up with these other young men—and Caleb?”

Caleb blinked.

“No,” you said slowly, “I didn’t want to bombard you with all of them at once, so…I staggered their introductions.”

“You’re…dating…five men…at the same time?”

“Grandma, you are acting like I am banging them all at the same time!”

“Dear, I am sorry, it’s just—”

“We’ve only done it once.”

“…Excuse me?”

“It’s actually harder to coordinate an orgy with everyone’s busy schedule,” you explained thoughtfully, not noticing Josephine’s horrified expression. You continued flippantly, “Zayne has so many surgeries lined up for the next three months. Then Rafayel has an upcoming art show he needs to prepare for, and Sylus—”

Josephine walked away in the middle of the conversation, heading to her bedroom, leaving you flabbergasted.

You looked behind you at your five boyfriends and they all shrugged and scratched their heads, just as lost as you were. Worried, you followed after her. “Grandma? Is something the matter—"

You panicked and shrieked.

“Zayne, Caleb! Grandma is smoking and drinking!”

Josephine mentally sighed as she sat in her bed, leaning back against some propped up pillows as she stared at the ceiling with a bottle of brandy resting on her chest.

Surely, dying in an explosion would be better than this fuckery, right?

[manikas-whims]

i wish you'd write full fics on some of those Xavier smut headcanon 🥵

just for you dear anon ♡

wrote this early in the morning and haven't edited, so bear with any errors. and hope y'all enjoy 😏

A Frisky Morning 🔞 [AO3]

Xavier x Reader // smut & light fluff

...

In which Xavier fucks out his morning wood into you..

It's the early hours of dawn. You've snuck out of the bed and stepped into the kitchen to prepare a typical breakfast for two. And you begin slicing some onions and tomatoes for the same, when your ears catch the faint sound of approaching footsteps. You crane your head slightly, your eyes blessed by the gorgeous sight of Xavier’s naked torso in all its glory, and the delicious outline of the raging morning wood tenting the sweatpants hanging loosely on his hips.

Immediately you look away. Despite the unholy things you two did in bed last night, you find yourself blushing.

“Morning.” He mumbles sleepily as he walks up to you.

His strong arms wrap around your waist, tousled locks of silver nuzzling and tickling your neck. He reminds you of a big cat in the mornings, prancing up to their human to demand food and treats. You chuckle and turn your head to greet him.

“Good Mor—”

Your words are swallowed by the touch of his lips brushing wantonly against yours, his pelvis pressing into your hips. And you nearly end up cutting your own finger at the mere sensation of his hard length rubbing against your back.

“Xa..Xavier?” You call out, despite his intentions being clearly obvious.

His face lowers, lips now sucking a spot upon your inviting skin as he lets a hand slip beneath your flimsy nightgown, fingers purposefully reaching for your already soaking panties.

“Angel,” He breathes needily along your neck, long fingers deftly pulling aside the panties to slip a digit inside your warm core. “You’ll help me, right?”

“Aaahhhh..” Your eyes flutter shut at the sudden intrusion, your cunt already waiting for more even as the reasonable part of you tries to remind you that you both need to get work in an hour.

“Mmm..so tight..” He moans, teeth lightly grazing along your shoulder. That lone finger slowly pushes in and pulls out, pumping your walls at an agonizingly leisurely pace.

You bite your lip to keep any more sounds from escaping, the knife in your hand clattering on the chopping board. Behind your back, you feel his other hand gently press you to the counter before he frees his member from the confines of his sweatpants, its angry swollen tip replacing his finger within your folds.

“Xavier!” You chide him lightly. Try talking some sense into him but your own back arches in an effort to take in more of his length.

His hands slip further up beneath your dress, their teasing touches only stopping upon reaching your breasts. He gives each mound a squeeze, his lips coming up to whisper against your ear. “Please, Angel.”

Fuck!

His desperate plea and that abraded, morning voice are a lethal combination. They easily crumble any remaining bits of resolve you hold. And so you arch your ass further back, legs parting to let him have better access to your cunt.

Behind you, Xavier groans and kisses your cheek as he rams his entire length into your pussy, his throbbing dick stretching your tight walls as he sets an unrelenting pace to fuck the angry hard-on out of his system.

His hands squeeze and pinch at your nipples, and you try your damned best to hold onto the counter, knuckles turning white. And Xavier watches you greedily, midnight blue eyes darker with desire as he commits the sight of your parted lips to his memory. As he makes sure to record the sound of every lewd squelch due his rapid thrusts, and every little sound you make in response to his balls thwacking obscenely against the backs of your thighs.

It's filthy but filling. Quick yet satiating.

You feel your walls clench and gush around him, your whimpers mingling with his moans in the quiet of the early morning.

Your ecstatic release triggers his own. And he snaps his hips faster, kisses your lips harder, utters your name louder, and thrusts his dick deeper, spurting his seed into your already dripping walls.

Your breaths come out in loud pants as you try to regain your senses. You feel Xavier's hands slip away from your breasts. Tenderly, he tucks your panties back in place over the slick folds of your pussy, and plants a kiss on your cheek.

“Thanks, Angel.”

hope this was enjoyable enough for a quick read 🫣

» MASTERLIST «

[aly4khq]

INCIDENTS, INCIDENTS...

characters: xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus

summary: you are a idol who is known worldwide for your amazing talent and dedication, you loved your group and your career, but at one performance you stumble into a problem when you have an accident on stage.

warnings: described injuries, mention of an 0verdosage in medication, fainting, weird fans, mentions of death (not mc), falling like a silly, 1 pinch (sylus)

wc: written on the separate info!

XAVIER : a hunter's instinct

wc, 1.1K — boyfriend!xavier, falling, injuries, xavier fighting for your right after

xavier was your biggest fan, whenever he would find that any of your merch was on stock again, they'd be sold out because of him in less than an hour. he was always wishing you a good performance, making that you ate well and sleep well the day you were performing.

he was always there, in the front row cheering you on and just admiring how beautiful you looked on stage with the mic in your hand and the lights shining of your face. meanwhile, the fans around him are screaming and yelling, the absolute opposite of him.

now; when you were rehearsing on the stage, you realised that your spot on the rising platform was very loose and unstable. the platform would rather get jambed in the middle, start to drop at random points or sway dramatically which affected your beginning of your dance. it felt like it was missing a few nails, so you reported it. yet you were only given back a, "you'll be alright, it's probably getting used to being stepped on."

you dealt with it, and managed to figure out a way to manoeuvre it so you could rise from under onto the stage above without swaying or falling. but every day it got more worse until i was way too late to get it permantely fixed.

the day had come and fans with their sighs, inspired outfits and light sticks had arrived at the big stadium where your group was performing. xavier was absolutely there first, making sure to give you a few reassuring texts once he got in.

✧: Are U Ready

✧: I can't wait 2 see U on the stage

✧: Drink water and be safe, see U

as soon as the introduction ended, the platform's rose and you began to sing the intro to the first song of the night. many fans sang along whenever you'd turn the mic to them.

as much as xavier loved your amazing skills in dancing, his eyes were focused on that platform your life was apparently in the hands of. it was wobbling like crazy and the side of it was dropping down like there was nothing supporting it anymore. xavier tried to alert you, pointing at the platform whenever you made eye contact but you just had to shrug it off.

whilst another member was singing her part, a member on your right whispered to you, trying to talk to you about it. "walk around it." they said, step over it or all of us stop in front of the platforms." but despite the talking, you couldn't alert the others in time until you had to continue performing.

you and your members walked back due to the steps in your choreography, making your way to the other side of the platform to dance to the other side of the audience on your right and left. everyone was clapping along a s you all strutted down the stage to your places with the mic by your ear.

as soon as your foot met that platform, you heard a clack! and you were going down. the platform snapped, drooling you down to the place where you originated from with a thud. you let out a pained scream from the impact of your body on the harsh material of the platform's floor and it's mechanics.

"ahh!" you took a deep breath before closing your eyes to endure the pain that shot through your body. the metal rods that connected to the top of the platform dug into your skin and scratched the surrounding areas.

your members ran to your platform, trying to each for your arms as you laid there in pain, many backstage crew coming onto the stage. the fans all gasped and stopped cheering after you fell, all of them quietly asking each other what even happened.

but xavier..that man was already there. you opened your eyes again after closing them due to the pain and he was there in the slightly tight space, holding you in his arms before teleporting back up to the stage where the medics were currently heading. the crowd nearly instantly erupting into more gasps and slightly yells, asking if you were okay.

"hey..." xavier pants, "it's me, just breathe—" you began to hiss at the feeling of your body aching, reminding your brain that you were injured. your body tensed weirdly as you held onto xavier's hand. "—hey hey hey, relax, you're okay...you're okay..."

"ow..." you whined as medics surrounded you, opening their large briefcases filled with medical equipment and started to examine you.

the bruises lingered on your poor body; staining your side, hip and inner thigh with a reddish colour which was soon to turn into a deep bruise. the sharp metal parts cut into the skin behind your thigh, small pea sized blood escaping the small scratch.

meanwhile, the directors came out, telling the other members to say their ending speech now whilst you were taken backstage. many fans were upset, leaving out of the door that were assisted by the bodyguards. the whole performance was being rescheduled for another time.

"baby," xavier gently caressed your cheek, turning you face to him as the medics cleaned the cut and bandages up other wounds. "are you sure you don't want to report this?"

with a tired shake of your head, you murmured, "i reported it already, it was just ignored again." he didn't like that at all, gently holding your hand in his whilst he thought about all that happened. "i couldn't even breath for a second when you screamed, fear like that...? it could be deadly."

"i'm sorry xavier," he quickly cut you off with a kiss on your forehead. "don't be sorry, it's alright, it's the people who are in charge who are at fault."

you laughed before the medics helped you get up, helping you to the backstage first aid station where your members were waiting.

"are you okay?!!" one asked, holding your arm as you walked together. you smile at her concern before replying, "i'm alright, i should be fine by tomorrow or the day after—"

xavier took your chin in his index and thumb, turning your head to his direction. you spotted his confused gaze. "are you sure that you want to perform? those bruises could get worse, it's bad for your health for you to be injured and perform."

"i'll be okay xavier, i'll be extra careful." despite the amount of fear xavier felt in his heart for you, he wasn't going to force you to stop performing. he'll just be extra cautious with you, more than normal.

ZAYNE : a doctor's concern

wc, 0.8K — husband!zayne, mentions of an over dosage, fainting

zayne has known about your passion for performance and singing since you were young, he was one of the first people to ever hear your singing and skills in songwriting. and he was now the most popular fan for being spotted nearly everywhere.

he would buy your photo cards and have them on his desk in his office where he could remember those eras inside of his comfort place at work whilst also doing paperwork. he'd always be in the backstage or the seats at the front.

the only reason why he was backstage was because he was your primary care physician and they needed him to make sure that you were in perfect shape and health whenever time would come that you needed to perform. he made sure that your medicine was given to you properly. mostly he would do it himself but today he was busy for the first few hours before your show.

one of the backstage crew were put in charger to put the dosage of medicine into your system, only because they had been proven to have studied medicine once in their lifetime.

you went backstage as normal when the beginning of your concert was near and the member of the crew gave you that dosage of medicine. "thank you," you replied with a smile before walking to the bench and hydrating.

you started to feel a dizzy, your head beginning to throb in the right wide out of nowhere. your eyebrows furrowed we you tried to figure out what to do in this situation. you couldn't call zayne to ask if there was any side effects to the medicine you were given because he wasn't avaliable for that hour, you were reminded when you check your messages. "...what am i supposed to do now??"

❅ : Don't forget your medicine.

❅ : I'll be there in an hour.

❅ : I love you.

despite the weird feeling in your body, you forced yourself to deal with it and get ready to perform.

the introduction came on as your appeared from the starting point, smiling and putting the mic to your lips. you started to sing out your heart; enjoying the moment.

that's when you could hear zayne in the back, asking the backstage crew for something. but that wasn't your concern, you had a job to do.

you danced along with the back up dancers, singing and just messing around with the screaming fans around you. many of them waving around signs and wearing your merch, even those that just dropping a little while ago.

that was until you felt it. a banging pain in your chest which instantly caused you to slow down on the movements, sitting down on the chair you came from with elegance, turing to make it seem like it was apart of the plan despite your face full of fear and pain. the fans around you were yelling out, not realising what was happening right in front of them.

you sang one more verse before you tried to focus. your mind was elsewhere as you started to dissociate, out of this world. "...um, shit..." you grasped onto the chair with fear before your vision got bouquet then went completely black.

tha last thing you heard was a loud thud and people gasping, people running across the stage and that familiar voice: that voice that made your heart relaxed at the sound of it. zayne.

when you woke up, you were in a pristine white environment; white bedcovers and walls, fhe trays and tablets were placed between you and the wall of your bed, the bed centred in the middle of the room. there was an iv beside you which gave you the answers that you needed, you were in the hospital.

with a little whimper, you rose your head to try and remember your reason of even being here. the door opened as zayne, in his work clothes, entered with a tray of food and water. he was already in his work clothes, which indicated that it was the next day and you've already been here for a day or so.

he was soft when talking to you.

"hello, how are you feeling?" his voice was calming, soothing yet there was a little bit of rage underneath that tone. he sat down beside you, "i heard what happened and rush to your aid."

then it clicked, the medicine, you fainting and more. "...oh that," who would know that a simple instruction of medicine could end up risking my life?

now as a reminder, you're only supposed to take a few millilitres before your performance and turns out that that same backstage crew member had seen the 1 as a 10 and give you the completely wrong dosage. a lethal dosage.

"i hope that you realise that i'm never leaving your team responsible of medicine ever again."

RAFAYEL : an artist's sharpness

wc, 1.1K — boyfriend!rafayel, he gets angry, flashing??, crying

rafayel and you were known as the biggest power couple known to man. his famous art exhibition was a form of performance in his eyes, and your famous display of your performances was the best duo ever. he was there for your concerts, just as much as you were there for his art work and interview work.

only this amount rafayel is that he has an AMAZING choice in fashion, his outfits were always fitting and well tailored. this led to him always making sure that your clothes were made nicely as well as your other members and that you weren't being left out from the theme/other clothing.

there were times that this man would fight with your stylist about their clothes that they gave you, leading to him taking over himself and obviously making sure that you were comfortable in those clothes.

now, today was another important day with a concert coming up. this latest album was focused on maturity and professionalism , which was why your outfits were slight revealing but also very teasing in a way. your outfit was adorable and fit in well, but there was one little problem.

whilst practice, your shirt kept falling apart, nearly exposing your whole upper half to your members and the directors around you. whenever you did a particular move in your dance where you'd push your right leg out and roll your chest to the right, the fabric would fall apart and fall off of your body.

you instantly went to the stylists once it became enough 'mistakes', reporting it as it being too loose and interrupting your dancing. but they only replied with, "you're being too aggressive," "maybe it's the dance, not us." and "i can't do anything honey,"

this was becoming an ongoing issue, and no one was taking it into mind properly. no one except rafayel.

𓇼 : wdym ur shirt is falling off

𓇼 : ????

𓇼 : don't worry cutie

𓇼 : i'll fix this.

when your concert started; you had already had doubts about that shirt that you were told to wear. it was once, twice, thrice that you had to correct it and not flash everyone. but now it was way too late to argue about it because the stage was opening up and your members were just about ready.

you all walked onto the stage, getting into position as the other dancers did their thing — dancing and introducing the next song with they famous move. the beginning of the song started and you could see rafayel in the VIP seats, along with his bodyguards, staring at you with awe.

...until he landed his eyes on your shirt. even though he knew about the mistakes that it brought, from one look he could see the problem. the stitching was too loose and the material wasn't good quality for a shirt that type.

halfway through, you thought that your outfit was behaving and it wasn't making you seem weird. there was one move in the dance when all the group members put your hands on your hips and move your chest up and down whilst moving to the side.

it went well, then you heard a big rip! and a cold breeze met your chest. your hand flew to your shirt, catching it just in time to cover your chest with a yelp. you turned around, trying to fix it when the back ripped as well.

luckily, rafayel managed to get one of the bodyguard by the stage to hand you his jacket. you wrapped it around your chest and zipped it up, it fit nicely and also held the old shirt fabric tightly. you continued to dance and perform despite the feeling to cry in your throat.

as soon as the concert finished and you all said your private thank you's, you ran backstage as you saw a familiar figure in the audience rush as well. you were devastated, you felt disgusted and you had humiliated yourself in front of your own fans.

you sat in your design room, sitting at your desk as you found an older shirt to put on. with tears in your eyes, you put the shirt on.

the door opened, "i'm changing!" you yelled, snapping at whoever decided to walk up unannounced. "it's me," you heard rafayel state, shutting the door behind him. he instantly saw how badly you were upset, putting his arms out.

"come here," he beckoned as you followed and hugging his chest, letting yourself cry into his chest. "there there.. he looked devastated seeing you so distressed and sad from your outfit malfunction. so he did what any boyfriend would.

with you in his arms, he left the room and went straight to the directors and stylist with an annoyed gaze.

they were currently in a deep conversation about todays and future concerts, concerning the members and stage crew when the door slammed open with rafayel.

"um...this is a confidential meeting mr rafayel..are you alright?—" "confidential my ass, it wasn't so confidential that your directing skills were shit when my girlfriend was literally humiliated on stage because of you."

he turned to you, "you looked beautiful cutie, dont worry." you let out a smile before covering my face with your hands. rafayel sighed, "what if i wasn't there at that moment? would she have had to continue with her chest exposed? or would she have had to run off stage and risk being scolded by you assholes."

the room was completely silent once rafayel was finished with his rant, no one dared to speak, not when he could easily speak out about this incident to thousands and get them fired.

"what do you say to her?", rafayel spoke nicely, but you instantly went out of your way and dismissed him. "rafayel what?- that's not—"

he put his finger over your mouth and let them speak and in unison they all responded, "we're sorry," rafayel interrupted, "for what?" you tried not to laugh as you mouthed to them to just continue with their meeting. but rafayel's gaze was more intimidating. the main stylist spoke our, "we're sorry for...invalidating your..um..concerns and not being...more keen on making you see comfortable on stage."

"it's alright—" you tried to speak but rafayel spoke, "and you better not do it again—ow!" you slammed his upper arm before excusing yourself and removing him from the room with a slight pull. you were shocked with what he was trying to accomplish.

whilst you were walking back to your room, he noticed your fake annoyed glare, "whatttt?? i was just telling them off." he defended himself, letting you drag him back. "yeah and risking my career, dickhead."

"no, its putting people in their place: i'll always be there to do that for you. don't forget it."

SYLUS : a leader's observation

wc, 0.8K — husband!sylus, mentions of death(not mc, not sylus!), kidn4pping attempt, he carry you, 1 pinch,

sylus was a secretive supporter when it came to your passion in music. he was always there on the sidelines, cheering you on from the VIP section along with luke and kieran who managed to become your two biggest supporters in the world.

he was there whenever you wanted him to be even when he had important things to do, he'd make sure that he is the first person to sit down and the last person to leave (if he's forced too).

lately, there's been a fan sending weird letters to places associating with you. your house, your workplace, any brands that you collabed with and even shops that you were seen constantly entering.

you brought this to the attention of sylus, hoping that he'll help. luckily, he managed to track down the letter and have them banned from your comfort homes.

𓅩: I'll be there tonight.

𓅩: Start whenever you'd like, I'll secure the area.

𓅩: Be safe.

now today was another concert, and you were standing on stage. the introduction performers were doing their thing — waving their flags and gracefully moving to the music of your first song.

as you sat in the middle of the stage, you had a piano in front and a microphone on top. you even singing nicely, hitting ever note that came across. the fans were silent, how you nicely asked them to be. some of them with their phones, recording the beautiful songs you sang.

until a few gasps and confused noises came from the crowd before, all of them focused on someone behind you. after a few seconds of you slowly stopping your singing, they started to speak...then get louder and start yelling.

'over there!' one of them yelled, pointing quickly, 'who is that??!!' you did as told and turned around to see a random man, dressed in all black with his hood down from his jacket. he walked towards you quickly before holding your hand and pulling you slowly. you stood from your seat, trying to understand what was going on.

"hey— wait! security!" you exclaims, suddenly realised what was going on. a random fan or whatever had gotten onto the stage and was trying to take you somewhere without your management knowing. "hello!!"

the security caught on, trying to get onto the stage fast before you were taken. but they were beaten to it.

crimson and black streaks wrapped around the fans body, straggling ghe man up by his chest. the pressure held onto his torso, leaving him to struggle the magic wrap. you escaped before rushing backstage as the security began to lead the people out until they stopped at the sight of sylus walking onto the stage with an annoyed glare.

the people rushed out faster and the stadium was cleared as sounds of gargling and choking came from inside.

you heard a loud burst of disgusting sounds before silence filled the stadium and the next thing you were hearing was sharp footsteps. everyone around you were wondering why someone was basically storming up to the room.

then a tall figure with his hands in his pockets and white locks came into view, you ran to him before hugging him. "sylus! oh my gosh..." he used his right hand to hug you back, wrapping it around your waist before rustling his chin against your hair, turning around with you in his arms.

"we'll be leaving." his deep gloomy voice was enough to make your colleagues agreed. "yes sir!" he sighed agaisnt your head, before his hand went further down your body to behind your knees. with one smooth move, he lifted you onto his shoulder, carrying you gently.

"sylus?" you called out quickly, and he responded by letting out a small hum. "where are you taking me?" with every step, he held into your body tighter.

he nearly felt offended by what you even asked, his other hand coming up to pinch the back of your thighs making you let out a shriek. "where do you think? we're going home."

"....this is not the direction to my home." you hesitantly replied after a beat or two.

you could sense the laugher in the area and then sylus let out a hearty chuckle, "you're adorable sweetie, we're going back home."

home meaning his base, you let out a small gasp of realisation. "oh!"

"yeah, oh."

this took took long for my liking, but anyway.

© aly4khq, do not plagarize, translate, or copy my work. (23/11/24)

[bookishdreamer28]

𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙩 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙪𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩

✮⋆˙ Characters: 𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍, 𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓, 𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆, 𝑺𝒚𝒍𝒖𝒔

✮⋆˙ Angst to fluff

✮⋆˙ Warnings: A bit of cursing, scenes where the reader gets hurt but that's all

Aaaand I'm back with LADS content!! I missed writing sm but I mostly missed you guys ♡ I hope you're all healthy and happy! Hope you'll enjoy this one ^3^

ℝ𝕒𝕗𝕒𝕪𝕖𝕝

"Seriously Rafayel I'm telling you how I feel about this and you look like you don't even care!" You yelled.

"But I do! I really do Y/N, but maybe your insecurities are still clouding your mind, even after all this time of being together and showing you how much I love you" He walked towards the door and you felt a lump in your throat.

"Rafayel, why you always walk away whenever there's an issue between us? Weren't you theone saying that no matter what we're getting through everything together?"

"Say whatever you want but I'm done with this fight" Rafayel said and walked out of your house. You and Rafayel had a fight about something silly but for you it was something you couldn't just ignore. You tried to do some chores just so you can keep yourself distracted by what happened earlier, but your tears couldn't stop falling. You hated it. You hated fighting with Rafayel cause you knew he would never hurt purposely or do something that would bother without taking into consideration your feelings, but it was still hurtful when stupid things like these occurred.

Since you couldn't do anything else inside your house so you can get your mind off of the fight, you decided to take a walk and maybe buy some groceries. When you finished shopping, it was dark and you realized how stupid it was to go out alone and without your car. You took a deep breath and started walking back home as fast as you could.

But as you continued the way to your home, you heard weird noises coming from a scary, dark alley ar your right. Your pace increased, wanting to go back to your house and hoping that you'd find Rafayel there too. But something appeared behind you and without taking any step further, you fell down on the concrete because of the hard push it gave you. And when you realized it was a wanderer, you tried to stand up and run but the power it was using on you made you very weak.

"YOU DAMN FREAK! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!" You couldn't really process anything but one thing you recognized was Rafayels voice. You closed your eyes wanting to relax a little and ease the pain somehow, but strong arms carried your body softly and hugged you in their embrace.

"Rafayel..."

"It's okay sweet girl I got you. I got you baby" He said breathlessly, feeling like he was going to break any moment now. He can't believe he just left from your home and then found you in this condition. Once you arrived at your house, Rafayel did everything to take good care of you. He made sure to clean your injuries, eat and then shower you with love, like he has been doing since you two started dating.

"Oh my baby. My girl" He muttered against your temple, placing a loving kiss there. After everything, you were both lying on your bed, as you enjoyed each other's company.

"I'm so sorry sweet girl I-" Rafayel felt his eyes watering. "Can't believe I almost you from my stupidity" His hug tightened and you found yourself snuggling in his warmth.

"I'm ok my love, I promise" Your hand was playing with his beautiful purple hair softly and you kissed his lips.

"Please say it again" He whispered as he stared at you longingly.

"My love"

"Oh how I love it when you call me that" He leaned his forehead on yours and stayed like this for a bit. "I love you" he kissed your lips "so so fucking much. I'm sorry for being a jerk earlier. You are my baby and you are perfect." this time the kiss was more passionate. A kiss that held love and strong affection. A kiss that meant more than any word that could ever be said at the moment.

𝕏𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕖𝕣

You were laying on the couch, reading a book so you can can escape from any negative thoughts but it was so hard to focus. You and Xavier fought again. It was a very exhausting week for both of you and all the tension made you feel suffocated, filled with many negative emotions, that you eventually took it all out on each other. You both understood the danger of your job and how hard things could be, but there were times you did not have the patience to deal with them calmly.

You turned your head around and looked at the now closed bedroom door. Xavier was in your room and you wanted nothing more than just give up with torturing silent treatment and hug each other. But even though you knew he was a bit too selfish to make the first move, you didn't want to back down either.

You angrily stood up from your position on the couch and went inside the kitchen so you can cook something. The fight and the way things have been lately, made you lost your appetite easily and you can't remember when was the last time you had a proper meal full of nourishment. So, as you stood on your tippy toes to grab a ball from the higher shelf, you felt a bit lightheaded and suddenly found your body hitting the hard, cold floor of the kitchen.

Rushing movements could be heard from inside your room and when rhe door bursted open, Xavier appeared in your vision.

"Y/N!" He yelled out your name and he was by your side in a second. He picked you up in his arms and carried you to your bed. He laid down with you and held you close.

"Baby wha- what the fuck happened?" He tried to remain calm but seeing laying on the floor almost unconscious was an image that haunted him. He felt like he was going to lose it.

"Xavier I- I just haven't been eating well lately and-"

"Why? Why did you do this baby?" He whispered and a few tears started dropping from his eyes. You shakily wiped them away.

"I'm okay now but I still need to eat and take a few vitamins to fully recover. That's all" Xavier let out a shaking breath and held you closer.

"You have no idea how scared I got. Losing you is my biggest fear baby. Damn it, that's why I've been like this lately. This fear is eating me alive, especially with what has been happening lately baby. And I'm sorry, I truly am my baby" He leaned his head to kiss your forehead.

"I'm sorry too Xavier." You smiled softly at him but then you giggled at something you thought. Xavier only smiled brightly cause seeing you happy can cure every dark or sad thought of his. You can make his day brighter than it was before.

"I just thought about how silly our fight was." You rested your head in his shoulder and closed your eyes for a brief moment, just to enjoy the warm his body radiated.

"Hm very silly indeed, just like you are sometimes" a playful smirk was displaying on his face as he watched your offended expression.

"Hey you're ruining our moment-"

"I mean what you were thinking when you decided to stop eating lovely girl?" He tapped softly on your nose and then kissed it. He slowly placed next him, grabbing your favorite soft blanket and laid it on top of your legs to keep you warm.

"Now stay here, I'll go cook you your fave. I'm not letting my lady starving any longer."

ℤ𝕒𝕪𝕟𝕖

"Y/N I'm really busy right now. I don't know if I have the time to go for dinner tonight." Zayne was busy checking some papers in his office, as he hurriedly tried to get ready for the next operation.

"Trust me, I understand but this is the 5th time in a row. I'm not asking to give up everything in the middle of your work, but all I want, is for you to make some time for me too." You said sternly and at the same be as calm as you possibly could at the moment, not wanting to lose it and start yelling just for the whole hospital to hear you.

Zayne sighed and stood up from his seat and walked to the door ready to leave his office but you stopped him.

"Are even listening to me?" You asked angrily.

"I think it's better if you leave." He opened the door as he waited for you to go. All you did was stare at him in shock. Did he seriously thought of kicking you out instead of talking to you?

"Zayne what the fuck? You don't even get to talk to me for 15 minutes now!" Your hand reached over for the knob of the door to close it shut.

"If you keep pushing my buttons then no, I don't want you here" His cold voice sent shivers down your spine.

"Listen I-"

"Just go. Now. I already have a packed schedule and many problems in my mind, and I don't to add one more." You were sure you heard your heart breaking.

"So you think...I'm a problem now" you breathed out, feeling already defeated by the way he talked to you. This argument was pointless, you knew it but all the exhaustion, the pain and the bad emotional state you were currently in, made you feel like you didn't exist to him anymore.

Zayne looked like he wanted to take these horrible words back, hug you like his whole life dependent on it but he wasn't sure how to react.

Without spare even one glance at him, you left his office with rushing steps, and as he heard your faint sobs in the empty hallway, his heart broke even more.

---

A knock on Zayne's office door interrupted his thoughts. "Come in." He said with a stern voice.

"Dr. Zayne you are needed in the room 8." A nurse appeared in his office. Zayne frowned .

"What happened?" He asked in a slightly worried tone.

"There's a patient right here in the room, with really bad injuries after she experienced a dangerous accident. She's fully conscious of her surroundings but her physical condition has to be under observation for now. I amde sure that of course she was taken care of first before you could come to check on her too...but she was desperately asking for you doctor." The nurse said as she opened the door to the room where the said patient was.

What Zayne though made his breath caught in his throat and he felt like lefs was about give up. He shut the door without letting anyone in and turned his attention back on you. With shaking legs he walked towards you.

"My...my love what...are you ok?!" He cradled your face softly his hands. His breath quickened and his heart beated faster, scared at the thought of almost losing you. When you didn't said anything it made him worry more, but once you let your head rest on his shoulders and your arms qrapped around his neck, he sighed in relief. His arms wrapped around your small form, hugging tight enough, without hurting anywhere.

"Zayne...I don't know what to say. When this happened my first thought was you and how we departed without saying an I love you or share a sweet kiss like we always do and- I got so scared that I wouldn't see you again." Your trembling voice made Zayne's eyes glassy, tears threatening to fall. He shook his head and your face in his hands again, wanting to make eye contact.

"I will never let anything happen to you my love. Never. I'm so sorry for the way I spoke to you and the days I spent away from you. You're my home sweetheart, and I want to able to spend every second with you, just the two of us away from everything and everyone. I promise I will not let work stop me from giving you my unconditional love. I truly, love you so much."

𝕊𝕪𝕝𝕦𝕤

"I'm sking you for the last time Sylus, what the fuck aee you hiding?" Your voice was hoarse from the yelling. Sylus clenched his jaw and tried to clam his own nerves.

"For the last time, I'm not hiding anything. You shouldn't worry about my job because everything's under control."

"That's what you said last time and remember what happened? Let me remind you, we got threatening messages out of nowhere. So please, tell me what you have gotten into?" You sat on the chair opposite of him as you waited nervously for what he had to say.

"Im not discussing business things with you, kitten." His voice darkened and he sounded more serious than usual. His teasing tone was gone and you knew his patience was running thin.

"I'm sick of this." You murmured.

"Sick of what exactly?" His stare was hard on you.

"Sick of always leaving me out of everything, when we both promised that we would always be there for each other and get through every hardship together." Your voice was laced with emotion and Sylus's cold facade almost broke and he was about to reach your side when Luke and Kieran came into his office.

"Boss we have to go. It's the emergency we talked about." Luke hurriedly told Sylus. Sylus prepared and was about to leave his office when your voice stopped him.

"Sylus what is this emergency their talking about?" You stood up frkm your chair and walked to him. Luke and Kieran looked at each other awkwardly and decided to leave the office to give you space.

"Kitten don't start this now-"

"Do you even let me finish?! I knew your were being secretive" You scoffed.

Sylus only stared at you intensely. You waited. Waited him to say something. But you only watched as he truned his back on you, leaving you all alone again.

---

You were currently laying on your bed, ready to fall asleep since you got too tired of waiting for Sylus's return. But you your eyes started closing you heard something breaking your room's window and immediately stood back up. Two dark figures was the only thing you could make out in the darkness and before you could grab your phone and run out of the room, one of them slapped you hard and you fell on the floor.

"Well if it isn't Sylus's new toy. This is going to be fun. For us." He laughed and his fist found your face.

---

Your body was cold, in pain and your were sure you couldn't feel your legs or hands moving. You groaned as you tried to turn on your side but a stabbing pain made you let out gasp and laid on your back again.

Your heard heavy footsteps downstairs and you almost started sobbing, fearing that they may have come back. The footsteps stopped suddenly, but then you could hear them running towards your room. When Sylus came into your sight, you sobbed and called for him.

"FUCK!" Sylus said loudly and laid next to you in an instant.

"Baby? Can you hear me? I'm here, see? I'm here" He frantically tried to lift you in his arms and held you close to him. "I'm here. I'm here. You're ok." He said like he tried to reassure his himself that he wouldn't lose you.

Luke and Kieran heard the fuss and came to see what happened, and when they saw in what state you were in, they both got shocked.

"Wha-what happened boss?!" Kieran said worriedly. Sylus didn't say anything. His focus only on you, as he laid you on the bed carefully.

"Sy..." His hand grasped yours and kissed it.

"I'm here. I'm here." He placed a kiss on your head and turned to look at his assistants.

"Go bring the medkit. NOW!" He didn't mean to scream but his mind was a mess. Seeing you on the floor, bloody beated and almost unconscious made him want to go out there burn everything down.

And that's what he was going to do. When Kieran ans Luke returned with the medkit, Sylus took care pf your injuries, as his assistants made sure to bring some painkillers, water and everything that was necessary for you to not being in pain.

"Sylus where-" you tried to reach for his hand but Sylus grabbed and kissed it softly as let it rest on your chest.

"I'll be back. I promise you baby. Just please, take some rest and I'll be laying right here. Next to you." He whispered and kissed your lips before he left.

---

Your eyes moved and you slowly opened them, taking in your surroundings. You remembered everything. Your mind felt foggy, but your body wasn't in so much pain anymore and an arm was wrapped around your waist. You looked down and there was an arm around you. You looked behind and you found Sylus sleeping but having you caged in his big arms securely, fearing that he would you even in his sleep.

"Sy" you whispered and Sylus's eyes started opening slowly. When he noticed you were awake, his slumber left his body instantly and instead he sat up a little to take a better look at you.

"Sweetheart..." he wanted to say so many things. So many. But what truly mattered to him was that you were here by his side, safe.

Your arms were wrapped around his neck in a second. "Oh my sweet girl" Sylus kissed your cheek and held you. Held you like he had just found the most precious treasure in the world and he didn't want anyone or anything to take it wawy from him.

A sob left his lips.

No. He couldn't resist anymore. All the feelings he felt when he found you laying on the floor came ro the surface. You cupped his face and rested your forehead on his.

"I'm ok. We're ok."

Sylus looked at you with watery eyes, not being afraid anymore to let himself feel, cry, laugh and love. With everything felt natural.

"I love you. And if anyone ever dares do something like this too you, even though I'll make sure it'll never happens, I'll still hex them into oblivion."

You didn't care about the fights you had, the words that were spoken on heated moments when your minds are clouded with pressure and fear. Cause at the end of the day and despite what can occure on your daily and dark life, you'd still find safety and love in each other's embraces and that's all that matters.

[softieyuume]

Home Sweet Home

⁠✿ LADS men x fem!reader + little daughters

⁠✿ For him, there's no better way to home come than to you, his little ones and their sweet surprise.

⁠✿ pure fluff. short scenarios. domestic fluff. mother-daughter bonding baking. LADS men are all girl dads here. named kids and depicted roughly around 5-6 years old.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ──────

🐦‍⬛ Sylus

A comforting strong scent of baked cookies enveloped his senses the moment Sylus stepped foot into the penthouse. The sound of playful laughter and excited voices echoed from the direction of the kitchen, causing the corners of his mouth to lift into a smile. After a long day of tending to business matters, there was nothing that could compare to the feeling of returning home to his beloved family.

Upon entering the kitchen, Sylus was greeted by the sight of you and their six-year-old twins, Sylvia and Skylar, engaged in what appeared to be a lively baking session. Flour dusted their cheeks and aprons as they worked together, their laughter filling the room with warmth and happiness.

"Daddy, you're home!" Sylvia exclaimed when she caught sight of him, dropping her mixing spoon and rushing over to hug Sylus tightly. "We missed you so much!"

Skylar followed suit, wrapping her small arms around Sylus's legs and gazing up at him with adoring eyes. "Welcome back, Daddy. We made cookies for you!"

Sylus chuckled, scooping up both girls and spinning them around making them squeal in excitement before setting them back down gently. He turned to you as you wiped your hands on a dish towel, a smile playing on your lips despite the slightly exasperated look in your eyes.

"Well, well, well." Sylus drawled, sauntering over to his wife and pulling you into his arms with a quick kiss. "It seems my girls have been up to some mischief in my absence."

You rolled your eyes playfully, but leaned into Sylus's embrace. "Oh, you have no idea. These two little angels of yours decided to have a flour fight while I was trying to teach them how to bake."

Sylus laughed heartily, ruffling the twins' hair affectionately. "Is that so? Well, I suppose a little chaos is to be expected when raising such spirited girls."

He turned to Sylvia and Skylar, his expression softening. "But I must say, the cookies smell absolutely delicious. You two did a fantastic job."

The twins beamed with pride, their earlier mischief forgotten in the presence of their father's praise. They eagerly led Sylus over to the counter, where a plate of slightly misshapen but undoubtedly homemade cookies awaited him.

As Sylus savored the sweet treat, he couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for his family. Despite the challenges and dangers that came with his line of work, moments like these was everything he looked forward to every waking day. With you by his side and their beautiful daughters growing up to be strong and loving individuals, Sylus knew he was the luckiest man in the world.

☃️ Zayne

Zayne instantly perked up at the aroma of freshly baked macarons wafting through the air as he entered his home, the sweet scent putting a smile on his face. It had been a long, grueling day at the hospital, but the sound of joyful laughter and soft giggles from his wife and daughter echoing down the hallway made the exhaustion fade away as he headed towards the kitchen.

You looked up from the kitchen counter where you were carefully placing the colorful French cookies onto a plate, a bright smile spreading across your face upon seeing your husband. "Welcome home, dear."

Five-year-old Zania, who had been eagerly waiting by the oven door, squealed with delight at the sight of her father. She dropped the oven mitts she was wearing and ran towards Zayne, throwing her small arms around his legs in a tight hug. "Papa! You're back!"

Zayne chuckled, reaching down to scoop up his precious daughter into his arms. He nuzzled his nose against hers playfully, making his daughter burst into another fit of giggles. "Hey there, my little sweet tooth." He teased affectionately. "Did you and Mama have fun baking today?"

"Yep!" Zania beamed cheerfully, wrapping her small arms around his neck with a squeezing hug. "We baked macarons for papa!"

You chuckled, picking up the dropped oven mitts that your daughter had dropped before joining both of them. You wrapped an arm around Zayne's waist, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "Little sweet tooth right here wanted to surprise you with your favorite treat."

Zayne smiled, his heart swelling with love and gratitude for his wonderful family. He placed a gentle kiss on top of his daughter's head, then turned to pressed a short yet sweet kiss on your lips, a warm smile curled on his lips. "Well, you two certainly know how to make me feel special. Thank you." He said sincerely, his voice filled with affection.

Your soft eyes shining with adoration as you reach up to cup Zayne's cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over his skin. "You deserve to feel special every day, Zayne. We love you so much."

Zayne chuckled softly as he leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment as he savored the tender moment with his loved ones. "I love you both more." He declared, pulling you and his daughter closer into a tight embrace.

The simple domestic scene filled him with a deep contentment, grateful for these moments with the two most important people in his life. No matter how stressful his job got, coming home to this made it all worthwhile.

🐟 Rafayel

Rafayel's homecoming from his overseas art exhibition was met with a flurry of activity and excitement. The moment he stepped through the front door, the rich aroma of chocolate enveloped him, making his mouth water instantaneously. As he made his way down the hallway, the sound of his wife and daughters' lively chatter grew louder, filling the air with warmth and joy.

Rushing into the kitchen with an excited grin, Rafayel took in the chaotic yet endearing scene before him. Flour dusted your cheeks as you attempted to corral the energetic triplets, who were covered in chocolate smudges and wearing matching impish grins.

"My little mermaids!" Rafayel exclaimed, announcing his arrival by the kitchen door. "I'm home!"

You turned around at the sound of his voice, your gaze sparkling with joy as you rushed over to embrace him tightly. "Welcome back, Rafayel!" You exclaimed, peppering his face with kisses.

Rafayel chuckled as he held you close, breathing in the familiar scent of your perfume mixed with the sweetness of chocolate. He couldn't help but laugh as the triplets squealed with excitement and tackled him in a group hug. "Papa! You're back!" They cried out in unison, their little faces beaming with happiness.

"Of course I'm back, my sweet girls." Rafayel chuckled, scooping them up into his arms and twirling them around. "Did you miss me?"

"So much!" Rania giggled, nuzzling her face against his chest.

"We made you a special welcome home cake, Papa!" Raine chimed in, her eyes shining with pride.

"It's chocolate, your favorite!" Runa added, bouncing excitedly in his arms.

Rafayel's heart melted at their enthusiasm. He glanced over at you, who was watching them with a tender smile on your face. "Thank you, my darling." He mouthed silently, grateful for the love and warmth that filled their home.

"Come on, let's go taste this amazing cake!" Rafayel declared, setting the triplets down and following them to the kitchen table. As they gathered around the beautifully decorated chocolate cake, Rafayel's heart was brimming with overwhelming joy and happiness. Through everything he had gone through in his life, he finally found where he belonged - here, surrounded by the love of his incredible wife and their wonderful children.

🐰 Xavier

After a long and arduous mission, Xavier finally returned home, his heart swelling with anticipation to see his beloved wife and daughter again. As he stepped through the doorway, the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked egg tarts linger through the air, making his mouth water. The happy laughter and excited voices of you and their 5-year-old daughter, Luna, echoed down the hallway, guiding him towards the kitchen.

Unable to contain his excitement any longer, Xavier teleported himself into the kitchen, startling the mother-daughter duo. "Surprise!" He exclaimed with a wide grin, his blue eyes twinkling with pure happiness.

You gasped, your eyes widening in surprise before breaking into a radiant smile. You set down the tray of warm egg tarts you were holding and rushed over to Xavier, throwing your arms around his neck. "You're back early!" You exclaimed, your voice filled with relief and affection.

"Daddy!" Luna squealed with delight, bouncing in her seat at the kitchen table. She immediately slid off her chair and ran to Xavier, launching herself into his arms. He caught her easily, spinning her around and making exaggerated growling noises that sent Luna into a fit of giggles. "I missed you so much!"

Xavier chuckled softly, holding his little girl close. "I missed you too, my little star." He murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

He then turned his attention to you, his eyes roaming over your face as if trying to memorize every detail. "I missed you both terribly. I couldn't stop thinking about you and Luna every moment I was gone." He admitted, his voice low and tender.

You smiled softly, leaning your head on his shoulder as you hugged Xavier and Luna close, your voice murmuring softly. "Welcome home, honey. Thank you for coming back to us safe and sound."

Xavier's heart swelled as held his family close, the warmth of their love enveloping him like a comforting blanket, he knew that this moment was what he had been fighting for - to return to the embrace of his beloved wife and cherished daughter. The mission may have been successful, but coming home to this was his true victory.

[lostinlads]

Floof Attack

Synopsis: Xavier had always been a clingy kitty, one of the perks working from home is that he could always be at your side. But leaving for a few days to attend your friend's wedding had been a mistake. You find your sweet boy out in the garden. With his back turned to you, you try to draw his attention, but he only feels abandoned. How do you deal with a sulking Xavikitty? Well, you don't need any hints. You know exactly where to pet to get a cat purring.

Tags: xavier x afab!reader, MDNI IF YOU ARE A MINOR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED, no use of y/n, smut, porn with little plot, not proofread, guided handjobs, outdoor sex, fluff, use of pet names (kitty, sweet star, darling, sweet boy, my love), pouty xavier, yearning, soft sex, CATBOY!XAVIER, jeremiah and jenna mention

Words: 4.2k

a/n: in light of the new banner and my hyperfixation on catboys i have decided to release fics about them! i hope you enjoy! ive been sitting on these plots since they have been announced so they arent 100% accurate to the cards but they have my own spin on them!

ao3 | Yes, Cat Caretaker master list | kofi

You step out of the cab and as soon as your feet touch the ground you sigh, happily. You're home, finally. After a weekend away for Jenna's wedding you wanted nothing more than to climb onto your couch, stretch out and nap - but not without your loving kitty, Xavier. He had been upset with you leaving for the weekend, not able to bring him along, to the point he nearly stole your suitcase from you to force you to stay. The look on his sad face as you closed the door on him etched into your mind - the slight tremble to his lip, his wide blue eyes glossy, and his fluffy ears sagging as he stood in the living room watching you go. 

Your mutual friend Jeremiah stopping by a few times a day with takeout, so Xavier doesn't burn your house down and to keep him company. Even sending you a few sneakily taken pictures of him napping, curling in on himself, fluffy tail resting over his stomach. It only made you miss him more and more each day, to feel his soft fur under your fingertips, his warm body enveloping you as you sleep, to see him perched on the counter as you make food. It only took you three days to realize how much he took up your life, how every little thing made you think of him. 

But you were finally home, walking up to your front door as the weight in your chest finally lifts. As you make your way inside, noting the stillness of the house as you set your bags by the door. You want to call out to him, but the thought of waking your sleepy kitty stops you in your tracks. 

An hour ago, Jeremiah left, messaging you that he left Xavier on the couch sleep as he left your home. Seeing that he wasn't there, only left you the option to go look for him. You make your way through your small, shared home, looking in all of his usual hang out and nap spots to find nothing. You peek out of your kitchen window, out to your garden. Seeing movement your eyes catch a glimpse of a pair of fluffy ears, and a thick swishing tail. 

Grabbing the small gift bag you brought home for him, you make your way outside. Lush grass under your sandals, birds singing in nearby trees, the scent of flowers filling your senses. Xavier was found crouching by a patch of forget-me-nots, ears flicking back towards you, obviously listening to your footsteps as you approach. You sit behind him on the small bench next to a tree, placing the bag beside you as you watch your sweet kitty. 

"I'm home," Your voice sweet, almost relieved. Xavier's tail swishes and his ears flick back towards you before they fixate themselves forward again. 

''Hmph," He pouts, not taking his eyes from his flowers. Your sulking Xavikitty obviously isn't impressed with your leave, not wanting to even talk to you shows how upset he was for being left home alone. Time to step up your game and hopefully make it up to your sensitive cat boy. 

You reach into the bag at your side, fingers brushing past the dried fish treats, small cat toys, and finally land on the cat wand. You pull it out, slowly in hopes the bell doesn't jingle just yet. Holding it out to his side you pause before you shake it. Watching the sun rays on his creamy white skin, making his light blond hair glow like an angel. The fluff of his ears almost creating a halo around his head. Times like this, you are reminded how blessed you were that he was your companion, having the most beautiful cat person at your side for a lifetime. With a smile you shake the toy, a soft jingle perking his ears high on his head.

"...A bell?" He questions, whipping around fast. His eyes find the toy, then slowly trail up to you making eye contact. His ears droop, a pout set on his pink lips as he looks at you. You take the opportunity to shake the toy again, summoning him closer to you. Luckily it works, Xavier turning more as you lift the toy in the air above his head. You watch him try to catch it, just out of his reach, hands clasping nothing but air as you move it away, closer to you. He follows it, crawling closer to you until you finally let him grasp it. One hand closing around the toy as the other closes around your hand, holding it still long enough for him to slip the wand from it. 

"I'm pretty sure you got what you wanted. Why are you still shaking it?" Pouting as he places the wand at his feet, brows furrowed as he looks into your eyes. His hand never leaves yours, the warmth of his skin on yours already melting your heart, telling you that you're home, that your love is right here. 

"I haven't, actually." You say with a shake of your head, his ears perking back up. "But I'm close to getting it." Taking his hesitation, you slip your hand from his grasp, other hand coming up to his soft ear. Xavier dodges your touch, moving his head to the side as he lets out a shocked gasp. But you reach back, his ear twitching just before your fingers slowly caress his soft fur. He hums, almost as if he's proving a point, leaning gently into your touch. Blush creeping up to his cheeks, painting them a beautiful soft pink as his eyes meet yours again. Shiny blue eyes with gorgeous long eyelashes landing on your face, obvious protest in them as he almost forces himself to still hold a grudge. 

"So you remembered to be gentle with my ears," He pouts once more in an almost whine. Lips pursed, eyebrows scrunched, accusingly. You laugh, rubbing his soft hair, loving your pouty kitty. Though it wasn't often, Xavier could be one of the most pouty, whiny cats you've ever met. Usually after meeting stray cats or occasionally men, coming home and smelling them on your clothes and skin, always huffing with his ears flat to his hair.

Your hand travels back up to his ear, sensitive to the touch as always. Thumb pressing firm against his inner ear, fingers wrapping behind as you stroke up, thick fur slipping between as you make your way back down. Xavier's breath deepens, eyes closing in the sensation of his hypersensitivity. You glide your hand back up to the tip, rubbing the thin flesh between your hand - something that always drove him crazy.

"Why do you keep pushing your luck when you find an opening?" He pants out, breath heavy as he revels in your touch. Dragging your hand down, you cup his cheek. A sweet smile playing on your lips as your thumb swipes along his smooth, soft skin. He leans into you, wanting nothing more than to nuzzle into your warmth - something he has been denied for the entire weekend. As he tries, you pull away, his ears drooping, eyes softening into an almost pathetic plea for you.

"We don't stop halfway when it comes to these things, right?" His own way of begging you to continue, to please and love on him until he gets his fill. You obey with a soft chuckle, hand reaching up to his untouched ear to stroke it. Both twitching at your touch, an instant reaction as your fingers glide over the fur. Slowly, his composure slips, leaning his head against your arm as you brush your nails over him. His hot breath fanning on your skin as he moves his head to match your motions, intensifying the sensation. You watch as your kitty's eyes roll, lids fluttering shut as his lips part, his blush deepening under his pretty eyes. His fluffy tail behind him sways almost on its own in satisfaction.

"Yeah..." He moans out, lids lifting as his lustful gaze meets yours. Your heart pounds in your chest, his hand coming to caress your arm, urging you to continue. "Right there. By my ear..." He pleads, another breathy moan slipping from his lips, shooting right to your core. His head turns, unable to control himself as his rough tongue kitten licks up your forearm, lips placing a gentle kiss to your wrist. Wetness grows between your thighs, seeing him crumble so easily from just a touch made you want to consume him. Have him shake with you, hot bodies pressing together in a way you have missed far too much since leaving him. 

"I think this cat likes other stuff besides bells," The heaviness in your tone couldn't be ignored, a crack in your composure as you slide your hand from his head, fingers gliding over his before they come to rest back on your lap. Ears drooping from loss of contact, he pouts, eyes drift to the ground. Xavier's warm, soft hands come to rest on your thighs, sad blue eyes looking back up to your own.

"But even if I like it..." He pauses, crossing his arms and resting his chin on them, sulking. "I can't forgive you for abandoning me. Not yet." Oh, how you wanted to scoop him up in your arms, kiss him until he was drunk, watch his face flush a deep pink. Your sweet boy still feeling hurt from your small trip, engraving in your mind that you will never leave him again.

You reach out, cupping his chin with all the love you have in you. His ears twitch once before standing high on his head, his big blue ragdoll eyes widen at the gentle touch. His plush tail swaying lazily behind him, showing how much he loved the attention.

"Then can you tell me what's the best way to comfort my cat?" You ask, voice silky and warm. Thumb sliding up, pushing his top lip so you can see his beloved canine teeth, a shocked gasp leaving his open mouth. Your kitty never being one to show aggression, but you wouldn't have minded a bite or two to ease his satisfaction.

"Not like this," He whispers, head falling as he mopes. Eyes laying back to the ground again as his ears fall, tail drooping behind him on the soft, lush grass, his face moving just out of touch.

You reach out again, fingers scratching under his chin. Nails grazing his skin, his eyes flutter closed at the comforting gesture, something he is all too familiar with. Soft swishing of his tail swaying faster in the grass as he leans into your touch for just a moment.

"Mmm, it's nice..." Xavier hums, almost appraising what you have to offer. "But this isn't what I'm looking for." More confidence leaks out of your usual soft-spoken kitty. He quickly grasps your hand, pulling it off of his chin, pressing your fingers to the base of his throat.

"You're good at dealing with your kitty," He rises from his sunken position, up onto his knees. Your lover's hand slowly guides yours to his clothed chest. "You don't need any hints, right?" Under your touch you could feel his heartbeat as you pass, quick and pounding in his chest. His breath quickening as you stop right between his ribs, clothed flesh brushing against your open hand as he heaves. You know what he wants, you can sense it in every way, from his voice to his touch, to the way his eyes land on you. But he also knows better, to use his words like a good kitty, ask you directly for what he wants - he knows you would always give in. So, since he refuses to speak, you scratch his chest, a low purr vibrating in his throat as your nails rake over him. He pants out, head lulling forward for just a moment before you look up at him. Face blazed in pink blush, blue eyes half lidded and glossy - so fucking needy.

"I guess you know exactly where to pet to get a cat purring, huh?" Xavier stands, using the tree beside both of you to steady himself as his large frame looms over you, He continues to trace your hand down his body, stopping at the waist of his pants, just your fingertips making contact now. You look up at his breathtaking face, his thin eyebrows knitting together in frustration, a famous pout on his kissable lips. He lifts his chin, cocking his head to the side as he waits, expectantly. "Why not try here?" He wastes no time placing your hand on the crotch of his pants, an obvious bulge in your hand as you cup it. 

"Xavier," Your brows knitting together as you try your best to sound stern. His ears falter for just a moment, his big ragdoll eyes widening in worry of being punished. "We talked about you using your words. Tell me." You coo, thumbing over his erection. He takes a moment, shivering under your touch as he lets out a shaky breath. 

"Please..." He begs, fingers tightening around your wrist, urging you to touch him. "Please love me..." His words coming out in an almost a cry, every emotion from the past weekend crashing through him as he pours his heart out to you in those simple three words. And how could you possibly resist, from the way he spoke to the sad look on his perfect face. You let your free hand slip up under his cotton shirt, fingers dusting over his abs as your other hand curled under the waist band of his sweatpants. He helps you tug them down, a painfully large bulge emerging face to face with you as it tents his boxers. Always needy, always for you. 

You take a moment to admire him, something you had been denied all weekend but wanted more than life itself. Eyes trailing from the milky skin of his exposed stomach to the tuft of dark blond hair that trailed under the band of his boxers. If he hadn't needed your touch so urgently, you would've taken the time to run your fingers down it, placing lazy kisses from his navel to his pelvis on the slow mornings you usually shared. But from his hot flesh under your skin you could feel that there was no time, that you two had so much to say that didn't involve words. Curling your fingers under the waistband of his boxers you hear him suck in a breath. No matter how many times the two of you made love, every single gesture from you stole his breath away, just like how one look from him could do the same to you. 

"Please..." His voice almost inaudible now, bottom lip quivering as you look up at him. You don't waste time, pulling down his boxers and setting him free, springing to life in front of your face.

"Oh, my sweet star," You coo, watching him twitch under your gaze, the pink tip leaking. With a whimper, he guided your hand to him, wrapping your fingers around the base of his already pulsing cock, soft bush of groomed hair tickling your flesh. Xavier lets out a gasp, a deep rumble of a purr humming in his chest as his eyes flutter shut from the contact. Here he was, your sweet kitty, right in front of you trembling under your touch. God how you have missed this, you didn't know how only three days would drive you mad without him by your side. But here he was, huffing as you slowly slide your hand from base to tip as his hold on you loosens. 

You swipe your thumb over his sensitive tip, watching the shiver ripple over him, whimpering as his eyes squeeze even more closed. The juices helping you slip your hand back down with ease, slick enough for you to pick up pace and not need to worry about too much friction. The soft schlick every time you passed over his head making your thighs tremble, already so spent for you. It made you wonder how much it took to control himself while you were away, seeing the frustration on his face every time Jeremiah came to the door instead of you. 

Xavier dragged his hand up your arm, fingers dusting your skin as they came to rest on your bicep, feeling your flexing muscle as you work him. The rumbling of his purring a steady hum surrounding you, broken up with small moans floating from his slacked jaw. You take the opportunity to delicately run your nails down the contours of his abs, drawing a lovely hiss from him that swarmed around your brain. His fingers tightening around your bicep for just a moment, a warning, before loosening once more. You see the faint red marks bloom on his pale skin, the way it moves with every heavy breath that graces his lungs. His cock jumping in your hand, telling you that he needed more, that he needed to cum just for you. Leaning in you place a kiss to your markings, lips barely touching before he cries out, hips thrusting into your hand, face bumping into his stomach. 

You hum against him, the vibrations coaxing another whimper from him as his hand clasps on your wrist again, holding it still as he fucks himself into it. The growing slick in your palm only showing how close he was to release, not like the vein throbbing at a steady pace couldn't give him away. Xavier chokes out another cry above you, hips stuttering before they stop completely.

"M-more," Eyes opening as he begs you. You don't have the option to ask what more he needs, his hand lifts from your wrist as he pulls you to your feet, not letting you catch your balance before he crashes his lips onto you. The hunger, want, and longing that has been festering inside of him explodes on your senses as his lips fight against yours, sloppy and out of rhythm. He pushes you a few steps back, against the tree that shaded you from the sun hanging above. The feeling of the rough bark against your back, and his attack on your no doubt swollen lips only made every small sensation heighten. His soft, fuzzy tail swishing, brushing your ankle, the slight breeze kissing your heated skin. His hands running down your body, gripping you by your hips before grinding himself onto you. It all felt so much but yet not enough at the same time. 

"I need you, Xavier," You breathe out as you break the kiss, huffing, your breath fanning over his face. Not wasting any time, he pulls the hem of your dress up and pushes your panties to the side, his lips latching onto anything it can find in a rushed sense of need - finding your neck. He hums against you as his long fingers swipe up your slit, finding how wet warm you were, your body telling him how needy you were for him in return. Eyes widening as you gasp out, hands clutching onto his shoulders as one of his fingers eases its way inside - pumping once, twice, before a second is added.

"Mmm, missed you so much..." The confession tugging at your heart, his delicate voice a harsh contrast compared to what his body was doing to you. A moan bubbling from your throat, the feeling of his fingers curling to your sensitive spot deep inside made you clutch onto him more.

Xavier pulled his fingers from you, leaving you whimpering and clenching around air. The empty feeling inside of you didn't last long, his still leaking cock slipped through your folds and into you, making your brain buzz from how full you felt. Xavier had always been big, filling you to the brim and hitting all of the best spots inside, but something felt different this time. Maybe because how close he had been before pulling you away, or maybe it's the passion that bound you two together, but the feeling of him inside of you, twitching against your walls, only made you want him more. 

"Feel so good, Xavi," You praise, feeling his ear twitch against your cheek like a passing kiss. His long tail curled around your ankle, lifting your leg to tell you silently to move. You oblige, hooking it over his hip, sending his cock that much deeper inside you, making you toss your head back against the rough tree. He purrs, deep and rumbling, feeling it through his back as you hook your arms around his neck in a desperate attempt to be as close to him as possible.

Hips pulling back for just a moment, almost entirely out of you, then he snapped them back. Breathy moans fill your ears as he thrusts again, hot kisses trailing from your throat, up your neck, dancing over your cheek, and crashing back onto yours - spit wetting your skin in its wake. You allow him, swallowing his moans in your mouth, tongue lapping at his own, fingers threading through his feather soft locks. Nothing but love and longing shared between you, every touch pushing each other towards that delicious edge as he continued his fervent thrusts into you, soaking your thighs and his with your love. 

The passion almost became too much for him as his hands gripped you tighter, desperate to confirm you were here with him again, that you were dancing this same old dance you have done hundreds of times before. He needed you, even now he needed more of you until you were the only thing that consumed him, the passion burning on his fingertips as he traced them up your bare thighs, over your panty clad hips, and onto your waist. He pushed you back towards the tree, the bark scratching at your bare ass cheeks but you didn't care, the only thing in the world that mattered held you there. 

"Wanna cum in you," Lips brushing yours as he barely pulled back enough to speak, breath mingling with yours as you both pant for air. Who were you to deny your kitty that? The tight coil wound so much in your stomach you almost released at that, imagining being filled with his seed, and eventually with a swollen stomach from his litter.

"Mmm, want to put your babies in me, Kitty?" You tease, barely, not having enough in you to lighten your tone. His hips snap, cock pushing against that mouthwatering spot inside of you, making you arch your back and moan into his open mouth, eyes fluttering closed. Xavier purrs louder, hair and ears brushing against you as you feel him nodding fast.

"Please," Voice high and whiny as his hips begin to grow sloppy, his movements stuttering for a moment before he continues. "Please let me fill you, darling. Please!" He cries, burying his face into your neck once more, damp forehead against your sweaty shoulder. Your fingers tug softly at his roots, so fucking close to that edge you could see off of it, one small step and you would be flying through the air.

"Fuck..." Moaning, you arch your back off of the tree once more. "Cum in me Xavier, give it to me!" You cry, the last of your self control leaving as you shake around him, sex pulsing on his cock as you release. 

His isn't far behind, you feel him twitch as the first rope coats your walls, a mewl muffled against your skin as his body shudders. Xavier empties himself entirely in you, seed dripping from your cunt as his cock softens inside, making a mess of both your legs and panties. Chests bumping together with every breath as you two attempt to control your rapid, speeding hearts. His hands never leave you, only softening his hold to a gentle caress, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your silky skin.

Xavier is the first to speak, saying your name so quietly you almost didn't hear him over the roar of your heart in your ears.

"Yes, my sweet boy?" Breathy, but calming, you brush your fingers through his hair, not forgetting to give a soft scratch behind his ear, rewarding your good boy.

"Please don't leave me again," You could almost cry at how helpless he sounds, how much this hurt him. With gentle hands, you cup his hot cheeks, pulling his face in front of yours so you can meet the most beautiful eyes you have ever seen. Glossy and wide, so beautiful yet fucked out at the same time. Placing a soft kiss to the tip of his pink nose, you smile, the corners of your lips pulling up.

"I'll never leave you again, my love." You promise, and mean it. Nothing should tear you apart again, he was so much more than your cat boy, he was your lover, your partner for life and you wanted nothing more than to have this man by your side forever. His features soften, the swishing tail behind him brushing at your still raised leg.

"I love you," He breathes, almost relieved at your words. A chuckle bubbling from your chest as you lay your damp forehead against his.

"And I love you, my kitty."

[mephisto-reporting]

I Love You: Xavier Edition

Premise:

Trope: Pure fluff

Pairing:Reader x Xavier

Note: Reader and the men are NOT in a relationship. but there is implied mutual attraction. Let me know if you want to be a part of my taglist.

Sylus Edition | Rafayel Edition | Xavier Edition | Zayne Edition

The arcade was alive with the buzz of flashing lights, the clinking of tokens, and the distant sounds of laughter. But amid it all, there was one corner that had captured your undivided attention—the claw machine, its glass casing glimmering under the neon lights. Inside, there was a star-shaped plushie that called out to you, its pastel colors so soft and inviting.

You had been staring at it for what felt like hours. It was the only one in the machine. The rest were a jumble of plushies that you’d often seen, all tangled up together, but that star—the delicate blue one—was taunting you, teasing you. You had to get it. You just had to.

Xavier, sitting beside you, was quiet, his usual neutral expression framing his handsome face. He was there, watching you, but in his own way, he was already at ease with the challenge. It was, after all, a game—a challenge that he had no personal stake in, yet still, he seemed to be quietly rooting for you. He’d watched you try and fail, try again, try and fail, without so much as a hint of judgment.

“Don’t worry, you’re doing fine,” Xavier murmured, his voice as steady as always, even as you reached for another token. “It’s just the machine. Sometimes it’s a bit tricky.”

You gave a small, frustrated nod, swiping your token through the machine once more. The claw descended. You watched, holding your breath. It hovered for a split second before dropping, only managing to nudge the star-shaped plushie slightly. It wasn’t enough. You let out a sigh, rubbing your temple as you slumped against the machine. “I almost had it,” you snapped, though the heat in your voice was mostly self-directed. Your cheeks flushed as you avoided his gaze. “It’s so close. I can feel it this time.”

His lips quirked upward in the faintest of smiles. “You’ve been saying that for an hour now.”

The plush mocked you from its cushy prison.

“I could try,” he offered, his tone as measured as ever. Despite his stoic nature, you knew him well enough to recognize the sincerity in his words. But you shook your head stubbornly. This was your mission, and you weren’t ready to hand over the controls.

By the end of the afternoon, with your token supply thoroughly drained, you stood in defeat.

“I can’t do it…” you muttered to yourself, more to the plushie than to anyone else.

Xavier shifted, his gaze softening for a brief moment as he rested his hand on your shoulder. “We’ll come back and try again, alright? Don’t beat yourself up over it. It’s just a game.”

You nodded, trying to take in his words, though a deep frustration simmered within you. The thought of leaving the arcade without that star was unbearable. You'd spent an entire afternoon here, clawing away at your pride—and at the machine—only to leave empty-handed. You sighed and nodded again, more out of exhaustion than agreement. “Yeah. Next time,” you mumbled.

He chuckled softly, the sound so rare it made your chest ache. “Next time.”

Over the next few days, "next time" became a mantra you repeated like a prayer. Each visit to the arcade brought you to the claw machine, where that elusive star plush continued to taunt you from behind its glass barrier. You tried different strategies, adjusted the angle, even debated superstitiously switching hands on the joystick, but nothing worked. Frustration coiled tight in your chest, each failed attempt chiseling away at your patience.

You tried and failed again and again, your movements growing more tense with each attempt. Xavier was always there beside you, offering his quiet encouragement, always calm, always kind. His presence was comforting, but it didn’t stop the frustration from boiling over within you.

This was getting ridiculous.

Today, though, was different. You had spent the entire day running around, trying to get everything done—work, errands, catching up with backlogs. Nothing seemed to go right. Everything you attempted today was just one disaster after the other. It was just one of those days where everything seemed to pile on top of you. You were tired. Tired of the relentless failures, tired of trying, tired of feeling like you were never going to win.

As you stood in front of the claw machine once more, your patience was at an all-time low. You stared at the star plushie and, without thinking, gave the machine a hard kick. It rattled with the impact, the claw shaking wildly for a moment, as if to mock you.

“Okay. Enough,” Xavier said, stepping between you and the machine. His hands rested gently on your shoulders, grounding you. His tone was calm, but there was a firmness to it that made you stop. “You’ll break the machine. Or your foot. Neither’s worth it.”

You turned away from the machine, a small tremor of frustration escaping through your clenched fists. “I just need a breath of fresh air,” you said, your voice low. You turned on your heel, waving a hand dismissively. “I’ll be right back.”

You made your way outside, seeking refuge from the suffocating air inside. The cool night air hit your face, a momentary relief to the overload of emotions. The muffled din of the arcade buzzed faintly through the door behind you. You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply, letting the crisp air fill your lungs, the tension slowly ebbing away. You closed your eyes, taking in a deep breath. Everything had been overwhelming, and the plushie... Well, it was just a plushie, wasn’t it? You should’ve just let it go. But you couldn’t.

The sound of footsteps behind you drew your attention, and you turned your head slightly. Before you could fully look, something soft brushed your cheek.

“Here,” Xavier said simply.

Your eyes widened as you focused on what he was holding out to you—the star-shaped plushie. The star-shaped plushie.

He’d done it. Somehow, he’d actually gotten it.

“You—you got it!” you gasped, spinning around to face him fully. Your fingers reached out instinctively, grasping the plush and clutching it to your chest as if it might disappear. The soft fabric squished in your hands, a tangible proof of victory.

“It wasn’t that hard. Just took some... patience.”

“Xavier...” You gasped, your heart pounding as you reached out for it, your fingers brushing against the soft fabric of the star-shaped plushie. You held it in your hands like it was a treasure.

His usual neutral expression was still there, but his eyes—those soft, blue eyes—seemed to hold something else. Something that made your heart skip.

A wave of pure joy surged through you, too overwhelming to contain. Before you could think, you threw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. “I love you,” you blurted out, the words tumbling free without permission.

The air seemed to still for a moment. You felt Xavier stiffen slightly in your embrace. Then, his hands came up, steady and warm as they rested on your back.

“You… love me?” he echoed, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. There was something uncharacteristically vulnerable in the way he said it, as though he were handling the words with care, afraid they might break.

Realization struck like lightning, and you froze, your face heating to a volcanic degree. You pulled back slightly, eyes wide, mouth already forming excuses, denials, anything to walk it back.

But before you could backtrack, Xavier moved toward you. His fingers gently cupped your face, his touch warm and tender, sending a shiver down your spine. His blue eyes—so steady, so calm—held yours with an intensity you hadn’t expected. For once, his usual neutral expression melted away, replaced by something warmer—something that made your heart race.

“I love you too,” he whispered.

The world seemed to pause in that moment. All the noise from the arcade, the frustrations, the disappointments—all of it fell away. There was only the warmth of his hand on your face, the softness in his eyes, and the quiet truth of his words.

You stood there, heart racing, breathless, unable to look away from him. The star plushie was still clutched tightly in your hand, but it felt insignificant compared to the moment unfolding before you. Xavier... Xavier loved you too.

His gaze softened further, and his voice, still calm, but now filled with something deeper, spoke again. “I never thought you’d say it first.”

You blinked, surprised by the admission. “You’ve been waiting for me?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “I suppose I have.”

You couldn't help but smile back, the corners of your eyes crinkling with joy

For a moment, the whole world seemed to fall into place. The plushie, the arcade, the frustrations—it all faded into the background as Xavier’s gentle gaze remained fixed on you. The star in your hand felt like the most precious thing you’d ever held. But, in truth, it was Xavier himself, standing before you, that made everything feel like it was exactly where it was meant to be.

Xavier’s forehead rested gently against yours, his warm breath mingling with your own as the closeness made your pulse thunder in your ears. His arms slid more securely around you, drawing you nearer as though anchoring you both in this shared moment.

“Well,” he murmured, his voice a low hum that sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, “I think I’ve had my fill of exercise today. That claw machine... definitely gave me a workout.”

A soft laugh bubbled from your lips, the tension of the day melting away entirely. “Exercise? You barely moved!” you teased, though your words carried no heat.

“Oh, it’s strenuous,” Xavier replied with mock seriousness, his lips twitching into the faintest smile. “Careful precision. Endless patience. Mental gymnastics to calculate the claw’s momentum. It’s a wonder I’m still standing.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him playfully.

“But I do know one thing.” His arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer until there was barely an inch between you. “I’m ready to head back. To nap. With my favorite plushie.”

You blinked, looking down at the star plushie still clutched tightly in your hand. “Wait, your favorite plushie?” you teased, a smirk creeping onto your face. “Pretty sure I’ve earned this one after all the torment.”

His blue eyes glimmered with amusement as he leaned back just enough to study your expression. “Oh, I wasn’t talking about the star,” he said, his voice low, the corners of his lips quirking up in that maddeningly subtle way he had. “I meant you.”

Your face heated instantly, your grip on the plushie tightening as if it might save you from the sudden onslaught of butterflies in your stomach. “Xavier…” you managed to say, though it came out as little more than a breathless whisper.

“What?” he asked innocently, though the mischief in his gaze betrayed him. His arms remained snug around you, his embrace firm yet comforting. “You’re warm, you’re soft, and you fit perfectly in my arms. What else would I want for a nap?”

You let out a small sigh of defeat, though a smile played on your lips as you nodded against him. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

He rested his chin lightly atop your head, holding you as if the rest of the world could wait. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I’m not letting go anytime soon.”

You didn’t know who moved first, but the next thing you knew, you were leaning into him again, your forehead resting against his. The star plushie was still clutched tightly in your hand, but it no longer felt like the most important prize you’d won that day.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

Sylus Edition | Rafayel Edition | Xavier Edition | Zayne Edition

Taglist: @cordidy

[lunamochii]

rafayel's version, zayne's version

Xavier prefers doing things together with you, the innocent workout that he planned out turn into a hot mess. His back leaning a bit, hands on your hips as he watch you go down on his cock.

"Careful now, love. Don't want to see you hurting yourself."

He softly says and plant his feet on the ground to stable you and himself. Xavier got you riding his cock while his still sat down on his stationary bike, your hand grabbing tightly on the handle as you moan mindlessly his name

"Xav- m'tired baby.."

"Yeah? Don't worry, got you princess."

He wrap his big beefy arms around your waist, your own hands clinging on his neck as he stood up and began to fuck you hard, just how you like it. His face leans in and kisses you on the lips, it was a lazy and messy kiss but full of love. You move your one hand and put it back on the handle of the bike, as you watch how his cock disappears inside you

His eyes darted at your breast that bounces everytime he slam deep, swallowing his own saliva. Xavier leans forward and drops a small kisses on your cleavage then let his tongue lick upward, tasting your sweat on the process

"Love you. Love you so much."

He whispers into your ear and snake one of his hand towards your already abuse clit, he began rubbing it and moans out when he felt you clenching him tight.

"Yes- that's it baby. Keep sucking my cock-"

"Xavier!"

As much as he wants to move away and just fuck you against the wall, he can't. If he move now, he will lose the feeling of your pussy deliciously clenching around his cock

"Wrap your arms around me."

You did as what he told you to, his hand left your clit and place it on the handle as he began to buck his hips faster and harder, all Xavier can hear right now is you moaning right onto his ear.

With a few more thrust, he came inside you. Painting your insides white, you slump your head on the crook of his neck and catches your breath. He move away from the stationary bike with you still stuck to him

He sat down on the bench inside his small gym room, as he cup your cheeks with his sweaty palm and began to kiss your face all over

"You think you can go for one more?"

Maybe all the energy he have built up on sleeping are mostly spent on hunting and working out but what you didn't know is, he most definitely spent it when fucking you.

"For you, Xav."

"Mhm.. all for me."

He sighs into your lips and began to move his hips, fucking his cum back into you.

Let's just say that you both ended up passing out inside his gym room, with his cock still inside you and cum leaking from your cunt.

[kykyonthemoon]

How to take care of your on-period girlfriend

During that time of the month, you receive special treatment from him.

ಇ. Character x Female Reader

with Rafayel, Xavier, Zayne and Caleb.

ಇ. Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, established relationship, pain & comfort

ಇ. Word count: 3k4

ಇ. Note: Some details in this fic are inspired by in game Tender Moments.

ಇ. Requested by Mỗi ngày nhặt một anh làm chồng and an anonymous reader on my ask box.

ಇ. Masterlist ♡ Request a fic ♡

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

In the middle of the night, you awoke with such discomfort in your lower belly and an aching feeling throughout your body. You knew it was that time of the month; in fact, it was a few days late due to recent work-related stress. You didn't expect to have your period today, so waking up at this hour with discomfort all over your body was quite uncomfortable to you.

Your hand found the phone on the nightstand beside the bed. Rafayel has left you several messages and missed calls. Perhaps you fell asleep without realizing it due to fatigue. You decided to get up and use the bathroom for a while. That's when you discovered you were missing what you needed most at home.

You grumbled and switched the phone screen back on. You were reluctant to disturb him at this time, especially because he was attending an exhibition in another city and you were not sure if he had returned yet. But you were upset and missed the times like this when he took care of you. Just before dialing his number, your phone rang.

"I've seen you online for a while. What's up? Can't sleep?"

Rafayel's voice rang out from the other end of the line, full of energy still. You just answered with a few short phrases, summarizing the current situation for him and told him that you were about to go out and get the necessary supplies.

"Just stay there." Rafayel stopped you. "Do not go anywhere. Wait for me."

You were a little confused why he had told you to stay home. But just now, you were too tired to have the strength to ask. Besides, you could not go out in this state, when you just wanted to faint on the floor.

You washed and changed into a new set of pajamas. Luckily, you found a spare sanitary pad left over in the closet that was sufficient for your needs. As soon as you got out of the bathroom, you heard the front door open. Rafayel appeared there, with a bunch of bags wrapped in both hands.

“How are you now? Does it still hurt?"

You shook your head, primarily to reassure him. But glancing at your pallid face, he knew you were lying. And you were taken aback when he arrived here, at this hour.

“Didn't you leave Linkon for the exhibition a few days ago?”

“That event was nothing special. I was on my way home when you called. I stopped to get you a few things before coming here.”

"Just a few things?" You gazed at the mound of items Rafayel had just purchased and set on the floor. "Why does it look like you bought everything in the store?"

Rafayel grinned at you. He softly aided you in getting down, leaning your back against the cushion and placing your feet on the couch. After that, he began taking out everything from those bags, which startled you a lot.

He had purchased you sanitary products in the form of pads, panties, tampons and even menstrual cups. One of each type and brand. There were also several pain relievers, vitamins and more. When he noticed your amazement, he said:

“Since I don't know which type you usually use, I bought one of each.”

Rafayel laughed. And you, even though your face was pale, felt so content due to his silliness.

“You could have just asked me.” You responded.

“I won't be able to see your surprised smile then. Since I've made you laugh, I must be a fantastic boyfriend, right?”

You slumped entirely back on the couch, still laughing but murmuring: "You must be a fantastic fool."

Lemurians' bodies are not like humans, you appreciated Rafayel's efforts to learn about your cycle and care for you in this manner. He plopped down on the couch next to you, lifted your legs and placed them on his lap. His slender hands rubbed them gently.

“Does it hurt a lot?”

You shook your head. “It doesn't hurt much. Just mild cramps.”

Rafayel nodded. He still remembered you often got cramps in your legs every time your period came. He continued massaging your legs before moving on to your tummy.

“What about this place?”

When your lower abdominal contractions resumed, you let out a tiny cry. Rafayel immediately withdrew his hand. “Sorry… Did I hurt you?”

“I-It's okay…” You tried to smile. “I'll probably feel better after a good rest.”

Rafayel's expression shifted slightly. His hand returned to your lower abdomen, continuing to gently rub it. “There you go again. Just say you're hurt when you're in pain. No need to try to act strong in front of me. Did you forget about our agreement last month? Whenever you have your period and are so weak like this, I will become your bodyguard.”

In the lying position, you could see half of Rafayel's face illuminated in the warm glow of the nightlight. His eyes were both concentrated and kind as he continued to ease the pain in your stomach. Suddenly, you couldn't help but jab your finger into his face. He pouted and puffed out both cheeks. Just like a puffer fish.

“Okay, it's all my fault. Now I will let Rafayel take care of me without worrying that I'd bother you.”

"Good. Even though I don't know how to take care of humans, I guarantee you'll be satisfied!”

Rafayel joyfully grasped your hand and kissed the palm to make it less cold. He continued rubbing your abdomen, singing a melody that put you at peace.

“Get some sleep. When you wake up tomorrow, I will still be here, right next to you.”

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓 

As a child, you imagined your knight arriving in shining armor on a white horse.

It turned out that your knight did not have a horse, but rather a white Hunter's uniform and a coat that he had just removed to wrap around your waist.

It happened when Xavier and you had just finished dealing with the Wanderers on the outskirts of Linkon City. Late at night, an unusual incident occurred. You hurriedly arrived to take on the task, unaware as that time of the month had come.

Perhaps you were too preoccupied with work to remember when your period would start. After finishing the task, you were dismayed to realize that the blood on your dress was not the blood of the Wanderers at all.

Xavier discovered it through your frightened eyes and trembling body. Immediately, he took off his coat, wrapped it around your waist to cover the blood stains, and even carried you a long way home on his back.

Your arms were wrapped around Xavier's neck, your face completely hidden in his shoulder. You felt so embarrassed to let him catch you in such a messy state. However, Xavier continued to soothe and console you. He said:

"It's not a problem at all. You don't need to be embarrassed about this very normal thing."

Even though it still did not feel right, you said nothing more. You were exhausted enough, and your aching body was screaming for a rest.

Xavier took you back to your apartment. You thanked him profusely and quickly went to take a shower. After that, sensing the silence outside, you assumed that Xavier had returned to his home. Unexpectedly, you caught a pack of painkillers on the table. Next to it was his phone.

You did not intend to peek, but because the phone screen was still on, you accidentally saw the content that Xavier was reading: How to take care of your girlfriend during her periods.

You chuckled to yourself. It turned out Xavier was learning how to take care of you. Then, his hand appeared out of nowhere to take the phone back.

“Are you done? Take your pill now."

Xavier gave you a cup of warm water. You smiled: "I thought you went home."

He slowly dropped himself into the seat next to you. “You are so hurt. How can I go home?”

"I'm alright. I'm going to sleep soon, tomorrow I'll feel better.”

Xavier did not seem to take your word for it. He grasped your hands.

“Aren't you going to be in pain for two or three days to a week?”

“Did you just read that on the internet?”

Xavier pondered for a time before nodding: “I... am not very familiar with these things. But I'll stay here until you feel better. Is that okay?"

You gave him a nod and a smile. Xavier got you a painkiller. After taking it he let you lean on the sofa, held your hands tightly, rubbed and breathed on them to bring some warmth.

After a while, your lower abdomen started to hurt. Xavier expressed concern as he noticed your expression:

“It hurts a lot, doesn't it? May I give you a massage?”

He waited for your approval with a nod before placing his hand on your tummy. He gently stroked it clockwise and inquired: "Is this better?"

You shook your head. One hand pointed to the lower abdomen, somewhat below where Xavier's hand was lying. “Here.”

“I see.”

Xavier's fingers went lower, causing you to flush slightly. Xavier said again:

“I only have two hands. One is warming your right hand, the other is massaging your belly. What should I do with your left hand?"

You gazed down at your hand. It wasn't chilly enough to warrant staying warm, but Xavier insisted on it. He also came up with a new idea:

“How about you put your left hand on me.”

You were astonished for a second. "Put it… on you?"

"Yes. Here..." Xavier raised his shirt slightly, showing his abdomen, and glanced at you with anticipation. You sheepishly placed your hand there, and he pulled his shirt down again. “Is it warm?”

You nodded, not sure what else to say. The warmth from his body made you feel heated within. Xavier proceeded to rub your hand and belly. Your hand, which had been put on his body for a short period of time, now became restless. It crept gently upward, to where you could feel his heartbeat quickening.

Xavier stared at you, considered for a time, then said nothing. Since he had let it slide, your hand glided down, past a layer of firm muscles, and then a bit further…

“If you continue to be so naughty, I'll get angry.”

Xavier leaned close to your ear and murmured, his tone irritated, but his gestures seemed to lean heavily on you.

Your fingers twitched slightly as you attentively watched Xavier's slightly furrowed expression. He went on to say: "When I'm angry, it will be quite terrifying. So be a good girl for me.”

Your hand, which was resting in Xavier's, was drawn to his lips as he pressed gentle kisses against it with heated breath. His eyes darkened somewhat; perhaps it was simply the light. You whispered an apology and returned your hand to its previous position. Xavier gazed at you with a small smile.

"If you're sleepy, just lean on me."

"Yes." You responded gently, placing your head on his shoulder and yawning loudly. No matter what the situation was, with him by your side, you would always be safe.

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆 

You were astonished when Zayne showed up at your door late at night after his shift. Seeing your pale and fragile appearance, he asked you to go to the bedroom for some rest. After faltering a few steps, you nearly collapsed to the floor.

Fortunately, Zayne's dominant arms caught you in time. With one quick movement, he lifted you up with ease.

“Put your arms around my neck.”

Zayne said, and you obediently followed. He carried you to your room, put you on the bed, and drew the blanket over you.

"Give me your hands." You placed your hands on his. Zayne stroked your hands briefly to warm them up before placing them beneath the blanket. "I will make you some tea. Remember to keep yourself warm."

You nodded sheepishly. Your eyes followed Zayne's wide back as it vanished beyond the bedroom door, and you wondered how he knew you were on your period.

You were not convinced this was a coincidence since Zayne prepared you a cup of jujube tea that he had brought with him. He used to give you that drink on days like this. He said it would make the pain less severe. And it was true.

"Drink this. Then eat the red dates, too."

Zayne handed you a cup of tea that he had just blown to cool down the heat. He sat down next to you on the bed. You ate a jujube, turned to look at him, and noticed his palm was already open in front of you.

“Spill it out here.” He said. You looked at him for a moment and then did what you were told. Zayne smiled with satisfaction, patted on your head, then took back the almost empty cup of tea from your hand to it on the night table.

“Feeling better?” Zayne inquired pleasantly as he assisted you in lying back on the bed. 

You smiled faintly and said:

“Just a liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiittle bit better.”

He laughed at your childish behavior. “If it hurts too much, you'll have to go to the hospital.”

You frowned and shook your head vigorously.

“Don't want to? If so, you need to get a good night's sleep. When you wake up, you will definitely be better.”

You gently tugged on Zayne's arm, whispering: "So... Can I get special care from Dr. Zayne? That way I'll get better faster..."

He looked at you with smiling eyes then nodded. You shifted slightly to the opposite side of the bed, making room for him to lie next to you. He instructed. He said:

“Turn around. Then slightly bend your knees closer to your stomach.”

You did what he told you. Your back turned to him, and very soon, you felt the warmth from his body enveloping you.

Zayne embraced you from behind. One of his hands went under the pillow to lift your head up a bit, the other was placed on your stomach. His hand appeared to be large enough to cover your entire stomach. With a delicate touch, his hand began to travel in a circular rhythm on your lower belly.

At first, you felt ticklish and heated given the embarrassment caused by his touch. In addition, Zayne's steady breath was blowing on your hair from behind. He asked:

“Feeling better yet?”

"Yes." You replied softly. “Doctor Zayne's hand is so warm…”

You caught his quiet laughter. He pressed his body closer to you, while you just wanted to hide your face in the pillow. Then, you suddenly remembered what you had wanted to ask him just now:

“How did you know my period would start tonight? You even brought me tea.”

“Can you guess how?”

“Hmm… Let's see. You knew the exact date last month even though I didn't tell you about it... And the month before that too..."

Doctor Zayne allowed you to think about it for a minute. Zayne's knowledge of the days your menstrual cycle would start was most likely due to his perfect memory. Thinking about this, you turned around and his lips brushed your forehead.

"Eh…"

You froze for a second. Doctor Zayne gazed at you. He was so near that you forgot what you were about to say.

"You've got the answer yet?"

Your face became as crimson as the jujube tea. His breath danced over your cheeks as you responded:

“Um… I already knew the answer… Dr. Zayne is so busy, yet he still remembers my cycle?”

“I remember everything related to you.” Zayne spoke, his expression very serious and full of concern. You reluctantly turned aside.

"T-Thank you…"

You noticed Zayne's body pressing closer to yours. He buried his face in your hair and the nape of your neck, his hand continuing to rub your lower abdomen. He whispered:

“Get well soon. Although I hope that what makes you better is not painkillers or tea… but me…”

The corners of your mouth stretched out, smiling so widely that you could not close it. You grabbed his rough hand that was placed on your stomach and replied:

“Doctor Zayne has always been my elixir!”

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃

The door to your room opened in the middle of the night, and Caleb emerged, blocking the entire entrance. He was holding a hot compress bag, a glass of milk, and sanitary pads.

"I'm here to rescue you, Pipsqueak."

Caleb turned on the nightlight to see your pale face and unkempt hair. You were writhing on the bed, in anguish from your period. You could only send him a text message with the strawberry emoji and a sobbing expression. He arrived at your bedside about five minutes later.

He assisted you up, gave you some painkillers, and then pressed the hot compress bag on your stomach. You frowned.

"Do you need to be so harsh with someone who is sick?"

"It's on you for not listening to me. Even though you knew you were about to start your period, you still had the urge to drink lots of cold drinks. You only listen to me when you're in pain?"

You grimaced and rolled over on the bed. Due to your sudden movement, you got cramps in your shoulder blades. You cried loudly for help. Caleb just sighed in helplessness. He helped you lie upright again and rubbed your shoulders.

“If I'm not here, who would you whine to?”

Since you knew Caleb was home, you texted him. However, you did not say anything after that. The anguish had utterly drained you. Caleb couldn't stand to torment you any longer after knowing about your situation. He leaned you on his lap and helped you sip your pain reliever and warm milk. The hand on your back kept rubbing you.

"Is it so painful? "Can you try to get some sleep?"

You replied by shaking your head. Caleb patted you some more. "Then I will stay here with you. Okay?"

This time you nodded. Caleb drew you closer. He removed the hot compress bag from your tummy and began rubbing it with his hand. All of a sudden, your childhood came back, when you had your period for the first time and Grandma was not home; there was only Caleb. Even though you had learnt in advance that all girls would have to go through her period every month, you were nevertheless terrified when it arrived. Fortunately, Caleb was by your side. He raced to get sanitary pads for you, poured hot tea, and helped you warm your hands and feet.

At that time, you were really timid. And perhaps from there you saw the differences between you and Caleb. Both of you were no longer innocent children. This unusual feeling also steadily grew since. 

"Lucky you're here…" You whispered, a hand softly tapped on Caleb's.

"Of course. I'm always by your side, pipsqueak." He responded, then lavished you with several delicate kisses on your hair.

"Caleb… Don't disappear, okay?"

Surprised, he said, "Where can I disappear to?I still have to comfort you with your favorite meals tomorrow."

"Tomorrow…" You instantly recalled having a date with Caleb at the amusement park. But this unexpected menstrual cycle ruined that plan. "I'm sorry…"

"No problem." Caleb stroked you on the head. “You can compensate me another day. For now, you just need to rest well.”

“But I still feel like it's my fault… It's been a while since you could have a day off, yet we can't go out…”

Caleb smiled gently. He tucked your loose hair behind your ear. When he looked into your eyes, he said:

“If you're bored, we can watch the series you like together tomorrow. Or play some games.”

Upon hearing that, your mood brightened a little. You loved spending with Caleb, whether it was a date outside or just hanging out at home. They all brought joy to you.

Caleb placed a kiss on your forehead. He went on:

“Don't think too much about it. Go to sleep now so you'll have the strength to bother me again tomorrow."

You laughed. Caleb was always such a teaser, but that was the reason why you were so happy around him.

Coaxing you for a while, when you started to fall into a deep sleep, Caleb whispered softly in your ear:

“Being able to come home and be with my pipsqueak, that's the best kind of vacation for me.”

[leighsartworks216]

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

We finally did it boys. We finally have too many links on the main masterlist and have to make a brand new one

Main Masterlist

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How they react to some of my favorite games - AO3

Warnings: crackfic (kinda?), one horror game, slight angst with Zayne, swearing

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Sylus

One More Chapter - AO3 - Sylus x gn!Reader

Warnings: teasing, pet names, fluff

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Deal with the Devil - AO3 - Sylus x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: bruises, body dysphoria, chest binding, unsafe binding, teasing, pet names, possibly ooc

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Spring Wedding - AO3 - Sylus x gn!Reader

Warnings: past relationship, minor references/implications of emotional/mental abuse, backhanded compliments, protective Sylus, fake relationship

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But they cradled me, yes? - AO3 - Sylus x gn!Reader

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Kitty Cards - AO3 - Sylus x gn!Reader

Warnings: losing, frustration

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A Waltz Of Blood And Blades - AO3 - Sylus x gn!Reader

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All This And Heaven Too - AO3 - Demon!Sylus x gn!Angel!Reader

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You Have Me - AO3 - Sylus x gn!Reader

Warnings: major character death, love confession, unrequited love, blood, angst, hurt no comfort, forehead kiss

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Warnings: pumpkin carving, fluff, cuddling, Halloween, sleepy Sylus, soft Sylus, established relationship

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By Such A Little Taste - AO3 - Sylus x gn!Reader

SMUT Warnings: smut, fingering, cunnilingus, cumming untouched, hand/finger kink, marking, biting, kissing, teasing, dacryphilia/crying, swearing, praise kink, choking, breathplay, pet names, nipple play, embarrassment, shyness

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And It Is All That Matters - AO3 - Sylus x gn!Reader

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Zayne

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I Love You More Than I Can Say - AO3 - Zayne x transmasc!Reader

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Linger Longer - AO3 - Zayne x gn!Reader

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Perfect First Date - AO3 - Zayne x fem!Reader

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Warnings: blood, injury, feet, guilt, self-deprecation, insecurity, swearing, kissing, established relationship

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Antiseptic and Latex - AO3 - Zayne x gn!Reader

Warnings: hospitals, established relationship

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Writer's Block - AO3 - Zayne x gn!Reader

Warnings: established relationship, swearing, domestic fluff, writer's block, food, eating, cuddling, forehead kisses, references to Clopidogrel the squirrel

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Oh, Hold Me Now - AO3 - Zayne x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: menstruation, period fic, lots of domestic fluff, reader has a uterus but no other gender-defining things

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Warnings: established relationship, fluff, domestic fluff, cuddling, kissing

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SMUT Warnings: smut, established relationship, grinding, thigh riding, light bondage, kissing, pet names, praise kink

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Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, established relationship, sleepiness, literal sleeping together, cuddling

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Happy Birthday, My Jasmine - AO3 - Zayne x gn!Reader

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Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, married life, established relationship, food/cooking, kissing, implied sexual content

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Yes This Fear's Got A Hold On Me - AO3 - Zayne x gn!Reader

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fear of death, overthinking, domestic moments, established relationship, rain/storms, recklessness, self-sacrificing behavior, cooking/food

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The Goddess of the Moon - AO3 - Zayne x gn!Reader

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, literal sleeping together, established relationship, cuddling, kissing

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Rafayel

Self-Portrait of the Soul - AO3 - Rafayel & gn!artist!Reader

Warnings: mischief, heavily implied exploitation, misunderstandings, pre-relationship, possibly ooc