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@fincherrose
Introduction
Hello! I'm Fincher and I'm new here so I'd love any advice or feedback you have. I am a writer and hope to post some Love and Deepspace stuff. I'm also a fan of Marvel and OHSHC, so might post some of that eventually. I am accepting requests. Thanks for reading!
You can find my Masterlist here.
⋆｡°✩🎃✩°｡⋆Clothes - Xavier⋆｡°✩🎃✩°｡⋆ MDNI 18+
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tags: xavier x afab reader, smut, established relationship, jealous Xavier, possessive Xavier
//cw: sexual content, mean Xavier, slight humiliation, clothes grinding, unprotected sex, p in v, cussing, finger sucking, oral(male receiving), implied multiple rounds\\
summary: Xavier isn't happy to see you wearing someone else's hoodie(wc. 1.6k)
A/N: Uhhhh... I sorta got busy and stopped writing for my account but I found this in my drafts and figured I should post it. Feeling a little rusty so sorry in advance for any errors or ooc moments.
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🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄
✦XAVIER✦
Xavier is half asleep on your couch when you come home, the movie title page playing in a loop. He rolls over and peeks his head around the couch as you shut the door. You grin at the sight of him, hair falling around his face and eyes blinking at you. He inhales sharply and pushes himself up.
“Is it raining?” He asks while rubbing his face. “I’m sorry, I should’ve met you at the station.”
You walk over, sitting next to him on the couch and rubbing his back. “You’re fine.” He crawls over to rest his head in your lap. “Did you wanna go to bed early-”
His hand plays with the loose sleeve of the damp hoodie you wear. “Is this jacket new?”
“Oh! It’s Elijah’s. I wasn’t exactly dressed for the rain, so he let me borrow his. Quite comfy, actually-” Xavier catches your wrist and you look down at the tightness of his grip.
He’s awake now, his eyes dark and focused. He pulls your hand to his face. With his free hand, he reaches up and tugs on one of the hoodie strings. “You should’ve called me.”
“It’s your day off, Xavier.” You move the hand he’s holding to caress his face, but his look doesn’t soften. “I’ll just change clothes, give me a second.”
You replace your legs with a pillow and stand, but Xavier doesn’t let you go. He pulls you back down onto him. You brace yourself against the couch, not wanting to fall on him. He steadies your hips to ground you in place. You chuckle, but the sound is nervous. Not quite because of Xavier's actions, but because under Elijah’s hoodie is a dress and your legs are currently parted over Xavier’s body. The very thought of it along with the embarrassment that by wearing Elijah’s hoodie, your coworker would somehow know of your compromising position is enough to make you clench- which embarrasses and thrills you further.
When you open your mouth, Xavier covers it. “You like taking what others give you?” You shake your head no against his hand and he smiles darkly at you. “Prove it to me.”
He lets go of you and puts his hands behind his head, stretching out under you. You wet your lips and awkwardly reach your leg down to the floor. Your weight lifts off of him and his eyes glare.
Xavier snaps, “Leaving?”
“I just wanted to change into something more comfortable-”
“No.” Xavier jerks his hips up once, throwing you off balance and back on top of him. “Prove it to me, now.”
“O-okay.”
You wait for him to relax but he doesn’t. Just a little reassurance wouldn’t hurt, right? You put your hands under his sweater and run them along his muscles. You lift the sweater up and Xavier lets you take it off of him. He’s running warm and though he doesn’t flinch, his body twitches where your cold hands touch. You lean toward the back of the couch and put one hand on the armrest to shift your weight down Xavier.
“Stop that.” He takes your hand from the couch and immediately, you’re balancing on your knees, lifting yourself off of him. His eyes bore into you as he issues a warning, “I’ll only tell you once. I need to feel you.”
You slowly sink from your hovering, hands on his chest as you settle your full weight on him. You feel his hardness and your center starts to throb with need. You watch him for any sign of discomfort, but he looks like he’s bathing in the sun. His eyes are closed in contentness and his pout is ruined by a half smile. You plant a hand on either side of him, gripping onto the edge of the couch as you bend down and place kisses along his collarbone. As you move along his shoulders and to his neck, you shift your hips to rub against him. Xavier lets out a small sigh and you smile against his neck. This is the time.
You rock your hips deeper against his bulge and sit up slightly, hands moving quickly to take off the hoodie. The second you touch the zipper, Xavier’s eyes flash open and he frowns. You give an extra circle of your hips in hopes it will distract him. It doesn’t.
His voice is cold. “Still thinking about someone else? Now of all times?”
You shake your head, leaning down and kissing him. His lips don’t respond to you. “Xavier, baby-” He lifts his head slightly to nip at your bottom lip, only long enough to tease. “Xavier…”
He doesn’t say anything. You move to the soft, sensitive part that he loves between his neck and jaw. He remains quiet but you feel his pulse quicken under your tongue. You drop your top half against him, leaving a gap between your core and his. Your hand moves there, wrestling into his pants and pulling his cock free. You run your hand around him, lazily pumping him just to feel it quiver at your touch. You settle back down over him, rubbing your center along the ridge of his cock from tip to base. Your panties are wet now from the combination of precum and your own juices. You hold onto Xavier’s shoulders for balance as a shiver runs through you.
Already panting, you realize your eyes are shut and open them to look down at Xavier. He’s watching you with desire thick in his eyes. You move your hips a little faster, acutely aware of how Xavier tends to fuck you. His tip pokes you through your underwear and you moan, your fingernails digging into him.
You whine, “Xavier.”
His hands finally move, running along your thighs. They move your dress so he can properly see you making a mess on him. He grabs you and moves you at an even pace. Your insides begin to ache with longing. You let out a long whimper of his name and his pace slows to a stop.
“I want more.” This time he lets you get up and you quickly strip, grinning when he slips out of his own pants and underwear.
You go to straddle him again but he puts his hand up. You straighten, waiting for him to move but he only points down. You follow his finger to see the hoodie that started this all. You look back up to see him watching you.
“I don’t know about wearing someone else’s clothes while we… y’know?” You take his finger and put it in your mouth to encourage him to let it slide.
He mocks, “I don’t know about fucking you stupid unless you’re wearing it… y’know?”
You pull his finger from your mouth, take one look at his full erection, and find yourself putting the hoodie back on with a flushed face. Xavier finally smiles but the sight of it makes you shudder. He sees your reluctance and yanks your leg over his body. You hover, your center practically pulsing at the closing distance between your bodies.
“Worried I won’t be gentle?”
You line yourself up with him, hands holding him still as you press his tip past your folds and to your inside. “Aren’t I on top?"
With one swift yank he pulls you down the entire length of his cock. You constrict around him with a yelp, feeling as though jolts of electricity are traveling through your entire body. You try in vain to lift yourself up but you are physically stuck there, your grip around him so tight it hurts to take him out. Xavier’s hands slip under your legs and he lifts you up. The sensation of his cock dragging through your walls makes you moan. The wide tip stretches nicely at your entrance. Your core burns at the sudden emptiness.
“Xavi- Xavi!” You grip onto him and he smiles before letting you drop, bottoming out in you. You feel him growing, reaching toward your cervix. “Fuck!”
“What?” He blinks innocently at you but his hands grind your hips back and forth.
You can’t do anything but follow his movement, letting him lift you up and down his cock. The sight of his muscles straining makes you salivate and you eagerly follow his motion. You aren’t sure if it’s the pace or the feeling of his nails gripping into your thighs, but you’re spilling onto him and twitching like a slut every time he bottoms out.
“I thought you were on top.” He slams you back down as your vision goes fuzzy with pleasure.
He keeps at it until you’re dropped low against his chest, panting and barely able to squirm towards the pleasure he’s providing. He lets you rest, his cock still hard inside you. You feel perverted and sweaty, covered in your own juices and too hot with the hoodie on. But Xavier hasn’t cum at all. You gather your courage and lift from him, moving down until you can drop your mouth over his cock.
You suck the tip and lick the sides, removing every trace of yourself from him. When you take him in your mouth, Xavier curses and knots his hands in your hair, pulling your head up in time to spill his load all over the hoodie. You pause, fascinated by the warm ropes that hit your chin and drip onto your covered chest. His grip on you falters mid orgasm and you’re a split second away from taking him again when you remember the hoodie is not yours.
“Xavier!”
He only grins and leads your head back down. “We’re not stopping until you’re covered.”
©fincherrose original work
⋆｡°✩🎃✩°｡⋆Clothes - Sylus⋆｡°✩🎃✩°｡⋆ MDNI 18+
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tags: sylus x afab reader, ¡gentledom!sylus, smut, bdsm, established relationship
//cw: use of kitten, sexual content, high protocol bdsm, oral(male receiving), deep throating, oral(female receiving), multiple orgasms, fingering, squirting, hyperventilating\\
summary: You need Sylus a little more than usual(wc. 2.5k)
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🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄
You’re waiting for Sylus, kneeling by his side of the bed when he wakes up. He sees you and instinctively reaches out a hand to touch your face, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. You hold perfectly still and when he looks at you again, his face has gone red because he realizes what that means. He rolls over, his back to you for a few seconds. You watch eagerly, knowing if he’s preparing himself you’ll be getting what you want.
He gets out of bed on your side, boxers hanging low enough to see the happy trail that leads to the v of his base and the dimples just above his ass. He’s ignoring you as he gets dressed for the day, which means he’s accepted your little game. The longer he takes dressing the wetter you grow, not able to move a muscle. You watch his every move from the corner of your vision, struggling to see without turning your head.
When your head does turn, he speaks without looking at you. “Focus, kitten.”
You snap your head back to look straight across the bed, your heart beating marvelously inside your chest. When he finishes getting dressed -black dress pants and a dark gray button up- he walks back over to the bed. He sets down a stack of folded clothes on the bed before leaning against the edge of the bed, crossing his legs at the ankles.
“Stand up.” You do, your eyes trained to him as he looks you over. “Legs apart.”
You adjust so that your legs are shoulder width apart. Sylus reaches over and presses one hand to the middle of your legs. Your thighs tense. You want to close your legs or move against him as he palms you through your clothes. His hand retreats, leaving you cold and brimming with anticipation.
He smirks at you, his voice quiet, “You’re already so wet for me.” He tilts his head and orders, “Come closer.”
You take one small step after another until he holds up his hand for you to stop. He stands straight and his body is nearly flush to yours. He moves your hair behind your shoulders, his touch lingering on your neck. His eyes glance down to look in yours and the softness in his gaze has your lips twitching into a shy smile.
He moves so that he can kiss your cheek, his lips brushing up against you until they reach your ear and he whispers, “Strip. Shirt, shorts, underwear. I want them all.”
He holds out one hand, palm up. He doesn’t move as you undress, your bodies often brushing against each other. You hang your shirt across his hand. When you pull down your shorts, you have to lean to the side in order to bend down. You place the shorts on top of the shirt. Then you bend down again to take off your panties, tracing the wet center before also handing them over. Sylus tosses your clothes toward the closet.
He runs his hands over your body. When you lean into his touch, he removes his hands and reminds, “No moving, kitten.” He waits a few seconds before he touches you again.
His hands are rough and send out sparks where they linger, tracing all the soft spots of your body. He walks to place himself behind you. With a guiding hand, he bends you forward, his palm pressing from your lower back up to the base of your skull. You shift at the bend, feeling the stretch in the back of your knees. You hear him crouching but almost fall over when his nose tickles along your folds and up your cheeks before placing a kiss at the top of your ass. You catch yourself, hands on the bed.
“Hands by your side.”
Your whole body goes stiff to hold the position as he runs back down, this time with his tongue. His saliva is almost cold against your flushed body. He sneaks a lick along your slit. You feel the soft of his hair tickling your thigh as he licks you again. This time, his tongue pushes past your folds to run against your opening, never quite entering. You cannot stop your shiver at the sensation, intrinsically pressing yourself against him.
He stands, putting himself out of your reach with the scolding, “Patience.” After a short, yet impossibly long chunk of time, he runs a hand up your back and settles his fingers into your hair.
He pulls you to stand up straight, then keeps his hand running against you, trailing from your hairline down your neck, over your shoulder, and across your chest. His knuckles tease at one nipple, pass too fast, then tease at the other before his hand drops. He’s standing in front of you again. He presses soft kisses to each side of your face, then your lips, and finally the center of your neck. From here, you can see just how hard he is. He takes a step closer and his erection pokes at you.
“Tell me what you want to do.”
Only your mouth moves, “I want to please you.”
He shifts back to lean against the bed again. His eyes should feel dangerous but they only make the aching sensation between your legs grow. You wait. He smiles.
“On your knees.”
You obey, down so quickly that your knees sting at the impact. He grabs something from the stack of clothing he brought and hands it to you. A sweater you hardly wear, the knit of it soft but the size too large to wear outside the house. You slip it on, rushing when you hear Sylus fidget with his belt. It’s unbuckled when your head pokes out of the sweater.
Sylus instructs, “Use your mouth to take off my belt.”
You have to stretch your body to reach. You bite the buckle and tug back to the side. You let it gently fall from your mouth and bite at the belt again. The rest of it frees from his belt loop, either side hanging from your mouth. Sylus reaches over and strokes the top of your head.
“Good job, kitten.” He unzips his pants and his hand disappears for a moment before freeing his cock, blushed and veiny. His underwear snaps into place below his balls. “Time for your reward, open your mouth.”
You open your mouth wide and look up at him through your lashes. One of his hands holds his shaft and the other slides into your hair and holds your head in place. Saliva is pooling in your mouth and his cock glides slowly into you. It’s length and girth quickly fill your mouth. Your nostrils flare and eyes water as he presses further. His other hand joins in holding your head.
“Relax.” You try, your shoulders sinking down and mouth opening wider. But when your nose is buried in his pubes as he bottoms out, your throat twitches around his cock in effort not to gag. You can feel every vein decorating his cock, each pulse of blood that runs through him. Sylus gives a breathy sigh of pleasure. “You’re taking me so good, kitten. Keep taking me just like this.”
He pulls your head along the length of his shaft, your lips closed around him. Then he thrusts into you, his grip in your hair tightening. You whimper, acutely aware of the slick gathering at your center each time his tip touches the back of your throat. He continues fucking your face and each of his movements rock your entire body. Without having paid any attention to your cunt, you’re so close to cumming that you hum. The vibration makes Sylus shiver and he thrusts especially deep, holding you still as his cock twitches. One of his hands leaves your hair to feel the bulge of his member in your throat, then is immediately back as he thrusts faster.
You can’t stop the noises now. Your breath is ragged and your throat spasms each time Sylus thrusts. He adjusts his grip and moans, somehow reaching deeper.
“Touch yourself.” You are eager to oblige, finger immediately at your clit, but it’s already so sensitive and twitching that your rough touch immediately sends shock waves through your body. You moan and the sound turns into something wet and muffled. “Close already kitten?”
Sylus can’t stop the grunt from leaving him when you rub at your clit again and your throat tightens around him. His grip is pulling now, each thrust running from his tip to his base, rapidly pulling in and out.
“Be a good kitten and cum while you take me.” Sylus pants, his movements rushed.
You touch yourself desperately in time with him and in between his thrusts, reach the height of your pleasure. You squeal and the sound rings with only his tip in. You’re shivering when the rest of him shoves into you. Your thighs clench and you swallow against the length of Sylus before trying to moan his name around his mass. Your hands grab desperately at his legs for balance as your body continues to shake from the orgasm and he allows it because of how your nails dig into him when he thrusts again. As if he is the only thing keeping you upright while you melt against his cock.
He makes a deep, rumbling sound, then a bright and sharp gasp for air as he cums. His cock rests in your mouth, twitching each time it sends a warm gush down your throat. You swallow with each wave of his pleasure. Even when his load is emptied into you, he stays there and lets you feel each of his spasms. Your lips are tight as he pulls out, sucking every trace of cum from his member.
His hands move as he wraps his arms around your waists and lifts you. You sag against him when he holds you this way. Wanting to feel every inch of his body against you. When he tries to set you down you fall back into him, your legs jelly. He supports you with one arm and his hand snakes between the two of you. Your cunt soaks his hand with warmth. When he pulls his hand away, he brings it to his mouth and licks your slick off.
“Don't worry, kitten, I'll clean you up.” He turns and sets you on the bed. “Hold yourself for me.”
You reach down while spreading your legs, holding your knees down and apart. He puts his arms under your legs, then joins his hands together at the bottom of your stomach. There, he can ground you and feel every breath you take. He takes a long lap at your thigh. It’s covered in sweat from the ordeal of your earlier endeavors. Sylus nibbles at your thigh, skin following his teeth when he tugs. He gives the other thigh the same amount of attention. His tongue swipes around each side of your mound, then circles around closer to your outer lips. The pressure of sheer muscle is firm and wet, making more of a mess than what was already there.
Your grip on your legs is tight when his tongue wags into your slit, making a quick circular pass over your clit and sinking down to your opening. His tongue flicks inside, pulling out the wetness and putting your fluids into his mouth. It’s nowhere near as long as his fingers or his member, but the sheer movement as it twists and flicks and plunges into you is more than enough to make you shake.
When he breathes, you feel it and wonder how he hasn’t suffocated himself as he eats you out. You're answered by his moan each time he breathes in your musk. His tongue moves further into you and the hard line of his nose rubs against your clit with every movement he makes. Every time he laps up your cum, it is quickly replaced. He presses his hands down on your low stomach, putting a maddening pressure on your pelvis. You can barely hold on to your legs when his attention switches from your hole to your clit, which he takes into his mouth with eagerness.
His tongue is first, the tip of it precise and strong against you. He licks around your hood, then flicks under into the bunch of nerves, following the anatomy on either side and then pleasing the center. The sweater he picked for you is too hot and you feel as though you’ve been turned into something dewy as sweat builds along your entire body. You pull your inflexible legs further up, loving the strain and pure access. Sylus’s hand cleverly leaves you when he takes your clit tenderly between his teeth, Your entire mind goes blank, filled with the thought of Sylus and the roaring wave of your orgasm. Your legs slip free from your hold and squeeze his head.
He barely parts from you to order, “Relax.”
But you can’t because two of his slender fingers slide into you and curl against the sensitive and squishy spot that’s been aching from being ignored. Before your orgasm can finish, you’re back on the high and thrash wildly against him. You spread your legs so far that your thighs burn. He pumps in and out of you, hitting your sensitive spot each time as his mouth sparks pleasure through your body. You grab wildly at every part of him you can reach, his shoulder, his hair, the muscle of his back.
He thrusts his fingers in deep and scissors them around, and talks around you, his voice hot and heavy, “You’re perfect, kitten. I wanna hear you.”
You gasp to sound and immediately start whimpering a mess of his name. He moans into you and his fingers curl again. The wave you’re riding gushes out of you and sprays over him. Your vision speckles, your breathing thoroughly ruined. As your twitching stops, Sylus’s fingers slide out and caress you. He goes up on the bed and lays beside you, slipping one hand under your sweater and pressing it firmly against the center of your chest.
“Breathe with me, in.” His finger taps an even pace against you and you take in a long breath. “There you go, kitten. Hold it.” You do. Your body resists settling but you focus on the tapping of Sylus’s finger. “Let it out.”
He leans forward and presses his forehead against yours. “In.” You manage to open your eyes, vision back to you. “Hold… out.” You sigh against him, placing kisses on his shoulder and chest. Sylus takes his hand from your chest and runs his fingers through your hair. “I don’t know why you almost pass out every time we do this.” You keep kissing and he whispers, “Talk to me.”
You chuckle, “You’re so good I forget to breathe.”
Sylus sighs and pushes himself up onto his elbows. “That’s not a compliment.” He purses his lips and his eyes wander downwards. “How would you feel about a bath? You won’t have to lift a single finger.”
“If it pleases you.”
He leans down and kisses you. “I don’t think we’ll ever get you dressed today.”
©fincherrose original work
⋆｡°✩🎃✩°｡⋆Clothes - Rafayel⋆｡°✩🎃✩°｡⋆ MDNI 18+
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tags: rafayel x afab reader, ¡sub!rafayel, smut, bdsm, established relationship
//cw: sexual content, silent play, oral sex(male receiving), deep throating, unprotected sex, unprepped sex, p in v, rough sex, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, orgasm control\\
summary: Your surprise lingerie comes with a challenge for Rafayel(wc. 2.4k)
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🫧Rafayel🫧
Rafayel watches you walk from the bedroom toward him, something unusual in your movement. He leans off of his stool and pulls you close. He rubs his face against the back of your neck when something itches his nose. He parts and glances down at your neck, spotting the strap of lace that disappears down into the front of your dress. He tilts his head, you don’t have a bra like that… not that he knows of.
“Something wrong?” Your voice is too innocent, it makes him shiver.
When you face him, you're smiling, playing with the top button of your blue dress. His fingers dart between yours and unbutton the collar of your dress. He feels the softness of your neck and the quickness of your pulse. He rushes to undo another button, telling himself that your collar still sits too high and formal. The second his work is finished, you set away and he nearly falls off his stool.
You take another step back, making a slow backwards pace toward the bedroom. Your hands continue to move, continue to unbutton.
Rafayel grins and stands from his stool. “In a good mood, cutie?”
He runs over and scoops you up, carrying you to the bed. He sets you down in a frenzy, already on top of you, kissing whatever he can. His hand moves to palm your breast and he pauses at the feeling. He looks up at you, his purple hair already messy and his pupils already wide.
“Curious?” You whisper and lead his hands back to your buttons.
He makes quick work of them, unbuttoning past your waist and down to your knees. The dress is still on but in the parting of the fabric he sees something red. He slips his finger under the dress, runs his knuckle on the mystery waiting. A light and soft texture greets him and he can feel the pattern running in the fabric. His whole hand finds itself pressed flat against it. Slowly he bunches the material in his fist and moves your dress apart with his other hand.
Lace lingerie.
“Uh…” He’s not sure what to say, but the growing hardness between his legs speaks enough.
You put your mouth to his ear and whisper in a breathy voice, “Why don’t we try something new?”
He’s immediately teasing, “Is this not new-?”
You press a single finger to his mouth, tilting your head and giving him a smile he knows means trouble. You push him back before sitting up. He lays down on his back, the biggest grin you’ve ever seen covering his face as he bats his eyes at you.
“I want to see how quiet you can be.”
He scoffs, suddenly propped on his elbows to watch you play with the waistline of his pants. “Me? Aren’t you the noisy-” You slide a finger into his pants and trail it down, the top sinking down with you further and further until he’s free, dick springing out to brush your chin. He acts like he’s not laying at your mercy, throbbing from the sight of you. “What do I get for being quiet?”
“Anything you want?”
“Deal.”
You run a finger up the underside of his shaft, eyes glued to him. Rafayel’s jaw tenses and his head is hung back. But he doesn’t make a noise. You know he loves to talk during sex and you love it too, but this vision of him so at attention is far more pleasing than you thought it would be. You slip off of the bed to take off his pants, which he shimmies free from with a hint of frustration. You lean forward, pulling him to the edge of the bed so that you can circle your tongue along his tip. You see the folds in the bedding from where he’s holding on. You put just the tip into your mouth and gently suck it. It leaves your mouth with a vulgar pop as you trail down to his balls. As you open your mouth around them, swirling your tongue in circles and reaching for the tight spot at the back that’s attached to his perineum, you palm the crown of his penis. The precum makes your hand glide.
You release him from your mouth and take a quick glimpse at him, a vein pulsing in his neck. You replace your hand with your mouth and slowly begin to take him in. He makes a quiet, strangled noise. Then his hand grabs your head, fingers knotting in your hair, and he pushes you down. He bottoms out, his tip pressing into the back of your throat. You swallow into the slight pain, an uncontrollable shiver going through you. Before he can move you, you bob up and down. His grip on your hair tightens but he doesn’t dare move you. Without his usual noise, you can hear every wet sound, every trembling breath Rafayel is taking. He bottoms out in your mouth again and you hum, letting the vibration travel through him. Your scalp is stinging from his grip. You trail one hand along his thigh down to his balls, which you give a light tug, one finger traveling the length of his perineum and grazing the edge of his asshole. He jolts impossibly deeper into and you gag around his twitching cock.
The sound is loud and impossible to ignore. It’s quickly followed by the immediate release of your hair and another sound- fabric ripping. Through watery eyes, you look over at what Rafayel replaced your head with; a pillow. He holds it tightly over his face and the pillowcase is already ripping. Cheater, you think, raising away from him.
You climb over him, your core rubbing along the length of him when you set your weight down. You grab onto the pillow he’s hiding behind and his tip pokes perfectly into the slit of your lingerie and teases your folds. Now he knows how wet you are. He wraps both his arms around the pillow in resistance to your tugging.
Fine. You leave the pillow alone and sit up on your knees, hands reaching down to hold him steady as you take him inside.
The tug is immediate and a thousand memories of him talking you through prep goes through your mind. It hurts so good that you gasp as you sink lower, too tight to go any faster even though you desperately need him. Rafayel shoots up, the pillow falling between you. Before he can ruin the game, you press your lips to him and kiss him wildly. His hands wander around your body, squeezing and pawing at every inch. You force yourself to relax until you feel the coarse of his pubes against your clit.
You rock steadily against him and he bites into your lip in surprise, almost hard enough to break skin. You shift your weight so you can raise yourself halfway up then bottom out again. He flies back away from you, head twisting to bite at the bedding. You laugh at the sight and bounce again, rocking your hips as you do. You lean forward, hands smacking against his chest and ripping his buttoned shirt open so you can feel his skin. His member reaches even deeper this way and you let out a nasty moan of his name.
Rafayel falls for the bait, finally looking over at you. His eyes are at once glaring and lost in pleasure. You give him a grin and for a split are sure he’s going to lose because his mouth opens. Only a shaky breath leaves him before his head turns away. You roll your hips. One hand leaves his chest and grabs his jaw, yanking him to look at you. You feel him twitch and in response your walls flutter around him. Each breath he takes echoes around the room, a sweet and incredibly lewd tune that makes your body flush. You release him and use the hand to unhook the front of your lingerie.
Rafayel can’t look away from your body as it's freed from the lingerie. You lift the halter strap from your neck, pulling your head through it to be thoroughly rid of the lace. You rock back and forward, feeling your breasts bounce with the movement.
“Fuck.” Rafayel mutters and you’re pulling him up to kiss him quiet but just keep gasping air.
You feel how close you are, around him like a vice now. He knows it too, because his fingers sneak down to where the two of you are joined and start rubbing your clit. Your pace is all at once fast and messy. You ride him roughly, gasping and moaning and groaning his name. His mouth makes itself busy with your breast. One of his hands gropes your other one and the other is pulling your hips down toward him. You feel the high so strongly you almost rip yourself from him but now both of his hands are gripped around your hips, holding you from ruining yourself. The pleasure jolts through you and you shake on top of him, your thighs burning. But as the rush settles, you don;t stop chasing the feeling. You move him back to you, kissing him desperately as the pleasure rocks through you again. It hurts. You feel as if you’re about to explode into nothing as you continue to rock against him.
Something shifts and you feel it, Rafayel is close. His mouth awkwardly hangs open, his mind too focused on remaining quiet and not cumming. As if he didn’t already lose. You clench your teeth and rock faster, forcing yourself back to an even pace. He buries his head in your neck, moving back and forth with you. His hot pants fan against the bare of your skin and you swear you can feel the wet of drool leaking from his mouth. His own hips are jolting up and up and up, pushing himself deeper and deeper. You pull back on his hair and bite at the tender skin of his neck.
You move your mouth to his ear, your lips rubbing against the soft of his earlobe. “Game over, my love. I wanna hear you.”
All at once, he’s a mess. He’s moaning loud into you and whimpering as his hips buck wildly. You grin at the feeling of him twitching. You press him back flat to the bed, his muscles tense under your palm. You’re back on your knees, raising off until only the tip is in. He’s chasing after you, raising his hips and you let him.
His wide eyes are trained on you, “You feel too good to tease me like this-”
You drop back down, leaning so that your tits rub against him as you rock back and forth. He whimpers and chews at his bottom lip. You grab his face, your thumb pulling his now swollen lip free. He nuzzles into your palm and calls your name over and over. The sound is pitched and ragged. He kisses your wrist, sighs at the feeling of your pulse. His eyes, practically aglow, watch you and wait.
“Wanna be a good boy and cum for me?”
“Yes please, please-” He breaks into a whine and a long and low moan, spasming against you.
His thrusting is sporadic but you don’t let up. And he’s begging in pure sound so you tug on his hair and order, “Cum, slut.”
And he does with a giddy laugh, spurting into you with a rush of heat. His cock is a hard pulse as more of his load spreads into you. His laugh cuts off into a gasp as you continue riding him. His eyes roll back and now you’re laughing because you’ve fucked him stupid and you’re not going to stop, not while his cock is still hard inside you, filling you with his love.
He’s making strange sounds under you and you love them. You run your hand through his hair, soothing the mess you made. And he’s kissing you again, though his mouth will sometimes hang open and groan against you.
You lift his chin with a finger, making sure his eyes are open when you tell him, “I love when you cum inside me.”
He groans, “Not fair.” But his empty cock twitches in pleasure.
You run your nails down his back, nibble at his ear. You bide your sweet time bouncing up and down, slowly building your pace up.
You giggle against the tender part of his neck, “I want you to cum again.”
“Ha!” His whole body shivers and he tucks his head down in embarrassment. You lean away from him, the cold rushing to fill the space between you. “Look at this mess.”
He does and gulps. His cum is leaking out of you with each roll of your hips. It gathers sloppily at his base and onto the lowest part of his stomach. You reach down and run your fingers through it, then bring them up to your mouth and lick them clean. He groans, looking at you with tears in his eyes. You kiss the tears when they fall down his cheeks.
“You feel so good.” He moans, suddenly sitting up straight and pressing you close against. “You feel so good-” He breaks into a whimper, kissing everywhere he can reach.
You gently move his face and kiss him soft and sweet. “You’re doing so good, my love.” You kiss his forehead, taste the salt of the sweat on his brow. “Fill me up again, hmm? You can do it.”
He moans and more of him spills into you. He shudders so hard that it keeps you moving. His moan dissipates into nothing but your name, whispering it over and over. You feel as though every part of your insides are marked by him. When his cock stops twitching, you ground yourself on him, the last echoes of the orgasm still trembling through him. He mouths at your chin, completely missing your lips in his daze. You fall back together and he slips out of you with a wet plop. You stay still, laying on top of him until you’ve caught your breath. When you start to move, he wraps his arms around you and rolls so that he’s on top. The weight of his body is comforting and on instinct, you melt against him.
He takes in a deep breath before kissing the top of your head. “Losing doesn’t usually feel this good.”
©fincherrose original work
⋆｡°✩🎃✩°｡⋆Clothes - Caleb⋆｡°✩🎃✩°｡⋆MDNI 18+
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tags: caleb x afab reader, ¡dom!Caleb to gentle dom Caleb, smut, bdsm, established relationship
//cw: sexual content, uniform kink, kinda brat behavior, spanking, rough play, colonel kink, clothed grinding, finger sucking, improper use of evol, biting, nipple play, oral(fem receiving), impact play, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, implied multiple rounds. \\
summary: Caleb comes home from a long work mission in his uniform(wc. 3k)
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🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄
🍎CALEB🍎
Maybe it was a bad idea. But maybe Caleb deserved it. He's been gone a month. Sure he texts and calls and leaves plenty of voicemails. But that isn’t enough for a month. So when you hear his humming in the hall and the thud of his uniform boots through the floor, you sit on the couch with crossed arms and turn your back to the door.
It bangs open and Caleb calls out, “Pipsqueak, I’m home!”
You stay where you are on the couch.
“Pips?” The door shuts and you can hear him untying his boots. When you don’t answer there’s a strange noise before you see Caleb in the corner of your vision. One boot off, hopping towards you. “Pips?”
You want to get up and kiss him silly, instead you huff and remain silent. He calls out your name and takes another hop. He resorts to laughing nervously until he’s in front of you. He lowers to his knees, then sits and tilts his head, trying to catch your gaze. His cap is still on but the brim is tilted up so his eyes are fully visible. The weight of those eyes burn an idea into you.
“Evening.” You answer cooly, letting your eyes meet his as your smirk grows. “Colonel.”
He laughs, the sound pitched and brief. He repeats incredulously, “Colonel?” He takes each of your hands and uncrosses your arms, wrapping them around himself. He frowns when they go limp and pouts, “What happened to Caleb?”
You draw your body back from him, curl your legs under you, aware of how your shorts ride up in this position. “I’m sorry, sir, he’s gone. Maybe you can find him when he’s not so busy.”
“Oh…” You stiffen at the sound of his voice, your gut telling you to run. You glance up and catch the smile on his face. “The big, bad Colonel, hm? What ever will you do without Caleb here?”
You purse your lips and bat your eyes as you sink off the couch. You reach forward and Caleb’s body instinctually obliges as you move his leg forward. You run a hand down the boot and begin unlacing it. He yanks you forward past his knee and your back arches. His gloved hands lands on your ass with a loud thwack. You take in a hiss of a breath, catch yourself on Caleb’s leg to stop from completely falling over.
He sing songs your name but his hands are rough when he props you back up. “Focus, dear. The colonel doesn’t like waiting.”
You really had meant to punish him, really, truly punish him. But in his uniform, those violet eyes boring into you… you can’t resist.
“Yes, sir.” You purr, smirking when you see the effect of it straining against his pants.
You take off his boot and throw it towards the door. You set his foot down and he stretches his legs out, leaning back on his hands. He’s waiting for your next move, waiting to see how far you’ll take this little act. You smile innocently and plant yourself above his knee, your leg pushing his other leg away until you’re posed perfectly on him. Motivated by the warmth he can feel through his dress pants, Caleb softly jerks his knee up. You don’t move away. You settle your weight down and slowly grind your hips. A month has done a lot of damage. You feel yourself growing wet at the mere thought of Caleb.
His knee jerks up again and you fall this time, sinking straight into his chest. “Distracted?” His hand teases at the him of your shirt and you feel the roughness of gloved knuckles against your stomach. “Focus. Don’t make me tell you again.” His hand retreats, but you catch him and try to move him back.
Instead, all you get is his glove. You throw it toward his boots and grab his other hand, bringing it to your mouth and sucking on the fingers one by one. He huffs but doesn't move. You nip at the edge of his middle finger and slowly pull off the glove, shifting your weight along his leg. You kiss his metal palm and his hand turns, grabbing you firmly by the jaw.
“Not that one.” His other hand comes up to your face, his pointer and middle finger glide along your bottom lip and you open your mouth for him.
You feel him tense as you suck, winding your tongue around him and pushing yourself further to his knuckles. His long fingers reach to the back of your mouth and you try to go a little just a little bit more, but his other hand drags you away. His hand is wet with your spit and he lowers it further and further until he reaches into your shorts. You buck against him and his hand is gone. You groan in frustration and try to pull away from his grip but you can’t until he lets go of your jaw.
He sees you panting and asks, “Are you feeling hot?” He presses the back of his still wet hand against your cheek and leans back slightly on his metal arm. “When you’re this hot, the best course of action is to strip.”
You huff at him and pull your shirt up and off, leaving the top half of you entirely bare. His eyes devour you, but his voice is playful, “What about me?”
You slide yourself up his leg and press your bare chest against him. He hums low in his throat as you throw his cap off. You hate the stupid gel in his hair and tug your hand through it roughly. He straightens suddenly, the coarse fabric of his uniform rubs against your hard nipples. You chase after the feeling, leaning further into him and tugging his head toward you. He pulls back, stronger than you are, and his eyes narrow at you.
You drop your hand to his shoulder and the other joins it as you shed his uniform jacket. His tie is next and you dip a finger into his collar to feel his throat bob against you. You wiggle slightly against his leg and trace his neck, chewing on your lip. His hands find your hips and you stiffen when he lifts you just high enough that you can’t rub against him any longer.
“What’s wrong, colonel?” Instead of loosening his tie, you tighten it.
Before you know it, the tie is slipping away from your fingers and your back is hitting the ground. Cold air rushes up between your legs and you look down in time to see Caleb fling your shorts and panties over his shoulder. You try to move, to regain your position and any hint of control you have over him, but you’re pressed firmly in place by Caleb’s evol.
You still have your mouth. “That all you have, colonel?”
He’s over you in a second, his tie tickling your chest. Your breathing becomes rapid as you wait. But he doesn’t give in so easily. His mouth meets your stomach and you whimper when you can’t move. All you can do is feel his teeth sink into the soft part of your side.
“Caleb!” He tears off his tie and stuffs it in your mouth without looking up at you.
His tongue swipes over where he just bit you and you whimper again, louder and needier. He doesn't seem to care as he rubs his face across your stomach and bites your other side. After licking it, he lowers himself down to his elbows so his body lays over the bottom half of you and his top half cages you. You feel his erection against your leg and struggle in vain to touch him somehow.
His metal hand envelops your breast and despite the tie growing heavy and wet in your mouth you squeal. He looks down at you with a smile. “Can't handle it?”
His mouth wanders to your other breast, which he takes eagerly into his mouth. You bite down hard on the tie as he nips gently at your nipple. His hand massages you roughly, occasionally pausing to play with your nipple. His mouth leaves your chest and trails kissing up to your neck. He begins sucking and biting and you moan each time he shifts against you.
You push the tie out with your tongue as much as you can. “More! Caleb, more-!”
He flips you around and smacks your ass. For a moment you are free from his evol and all you can do is squirm, trying to get back under his body. Sweet pressure comes as he lays on you, mouthing at your shoulder. Biting, licking, biting. You raise your hips and try to shimmy down to get pressure against your center, but all you get is the stiff fabric of his uniform.
“Ca-”
He bites down hard and you cut off with a yelp. The next thing his lips find is your ear, which he whispers into, “Caleb’s busy, remember? It’s only the colonel now.” He moves your hair aside to kiss the back of your neck and follow your spine down. He pauses at your back, “Are you going to behave?”
He reaches up and pulls off the tie and you graze at his fingers with your mouth selfishly wanting some part of him inside you already. “Yes, sir.”
There’s a rumble of satisfaction waving off his body before it leaves you. You hold still, forcing your body limp as he turns you onto your back. You can’t stay that way long because he’s on you again, his head aligned perfectly between your legs. You bite down hard on your lip, feel the budding of blood as your moan is swallowed. He looks up at the sensation that follows through your body. He spreads your legs further apart and kisses along your thigh. His cool metal hand is pressing down on your stomach to keep you steady but you feel your insides clamp around nothing.
He brushes the tip of his tongue around your mound and you hold your breath. “I want to hear you.” You let out a tiny noise and he nips at your thigh. “Louder.”
His next bite brings a bright pain and your legs shut around him. He quickly spreads them apart again and holds them down. Without his hand on your stomach, you thrash wildly, knowing just how close his face is to your opening. He knows you too well and holds himself out of reach. His evol sneaks around you and its temperate pressure drives you crazy.
You whine, “Please, colonel, please, sir!” You are aware in the back of your mind how pathetic you must seem naked and begging for him after picking a fight. But you also know there’s always something you have over Caleb. There. You loosen just a little but it’s enough and your wet slips down onto the floor.
Immediately, Caleb’s mouth is on you, lapping you up. He’s never been one for waste. You know you’re at his mercy but you can’t help but chuckle breathlessly. That little trick always works.
Caleb parts only long enough to mutter, “Naughty.”
His tongue disappears into you and you moan, legs trying to shut again. He presses you open, his grip so strong it’ll leave bruises. The thought stirs something and your walls flutter at the thought. You grab his head and push him deeper, your hands knotting in his hair. Something grumbles from him into you - a warning, but you don’t care.
“Not enough!” You growl and pull him harder.
His tongue retreats and you groan, resisting his efforts to hold you still by grinding against him. Then his arms wrap around you and haul you up with him as he stands. You dangle upside down and immediately claw at him for something to hold. He jostles you slightly, adjusting his grip to hold you securely. With new intensity, he’s back at you. His tongue circles around your clit, never quite touching it. You aren’t sure how to move, dangling like this, but your body rolls against him. His metal arm tightens and his other hand loosens, sneaking up and over your mound to finally touch your clit as his tongue darts inside you. The muscle of it runs from side to side as his finger teases you, building up in roughness.
All you can do pant wordlessly for who knows how long before you manage three words, “Fuck me… now.”
For a moment there is nothing, absolutely nothing holding you and you shriek as you begin to fall. Caleb has never let you fall. Then you're on the couch, your ass in the air. He smacks you so hard you topple face first into a cushion. Before you can ground yourself, he spanks you again, his eyes glued to the way the impact ripples through you. He grabs you by the hips to bring you back up to position and hits you again. You rock forward and then back, already braced for the next impact.
Your ass is touched with red when you hear the rustle and clink of Caleb’s belt. Your head whips around, eyes wide. A shiver goes down your spin as he loops the belt together. He meets your gaze and all you see is hunger. The belt makes a snapping sound as he gathers it close and pulls. You swallow and neither of you move.
“How do you address your commanding officer?” Caleb trails one end of the belt over the marks he’s left, then lets it fall along the curve of your body. He rubs the material against your wetness and a cry escapes you at the sensation. He drags it back up and hits you. The pain is bright and appetizing.
“Sir, sir…” Your voice cuts off into a squeal when he hits you again.
“Sir what? Hit you again?” He does so and the sound echoes in your ears.
You whine between clenched teeth, “Fuck me, sir.”
“Hmm?” He runs the belt across the sensitive marks he’s already left. “I can’t hear you.”
You grunt louder, “Fuck me, sir-” Two of his finger curl into you and all hopes of maintaining any piece of dignity are out the window as you press yourself against him. “Please, sir, please.”
Caleb lets out a sweet sigh, the sound of it makes your ears hot and even though he’s inside of you, you miss him desperately. You turn your head and he catches sight of you. None of the wanting leaves his face but his eyes soften ever so slightly. Then his long fingers curl again and you sink into the couch with a moan. You hear his zipper and wiggle against him in anticipation but nothing happens.
“Caleb?”
“Shh- Turn around.”
You follow his direction, eyes instantly glued to the stiff column of his cock standing at attention. His pants aren’t even all the way off. You lay yourself down and open your legs wide, your chest heaving up and down. He moves, but only his hand. You catch him by the wrist before he can put his finger back in. It’s painful looking away from his need but you do, finding his eyes expectantly waiting for you.
“I want you.” You trace a single finger down his shaft, about to lose it over the way that he trembles at your touch. “Colonel Caleb Xia, I want you inside me.”
He doesn’t make you wait any longer, his tip caressing your folds once before pressing inside. The two of you moan and he’s down beside you, holding you close as he pushes himself deeper. You grab onto his back and sink your nails in. His head tucks into your neck, where he nips and kisses and mouths up and down. He pauses but you know he’s only halfway in. You hold his hips and push him further. Pain sings from your insides up to your throat, ringing from your lips. You feel his resistance at the sound, the sudden softness of his kisses. You know the month away has frightened him somehow. You wrap your legs around him and grind lower. It hurts but the soreness is familiar and blissful.
“More.” You flatten your hands and rub his back, then reach a hand up to tangle it into his hair and give it a light tug. “I need you to fuck me… sir.”
He chuckles into you, his breath hot and arousing on your fresh hickies. With a deep thrust of his hips, he fills you. His tip kisses your cervix and he curses loudly, his cock twitching rapidly. You squeeze around him involuntarily and moan a mess of his name. He’s panting, his mouth by your ear.
He mumbles, “I’m not lasting long tonight.”
You’re already at your limit when he pulls out and rams back in. He feels you flutter and his hand lowers to your clit, rubbing deep circles in pace with his thrusting. Your whole body tenses. His mouth finds yours and he kisses you deeply.
He parts long enough to order, “C’mon, don’t hide it.” You aren’t ready, chasing the high feeling that electrifies your entire body. He thrusts harder, bottoming out each time. “Cum, now.”
You do, releasing what you’ve been holding for a month without him. He keeps pounding into you and you clamp your teeth down on his shoulder. His pace misses a beat before thrusting with a new need. When he finishes, it leaks from you. Your hips keep rolling despite the exhaustion setting in and Caleb keeps in time with them, pushing his cum further back into you.
You let out a breathy laugh as he slows, running your hand through his sweaty hair. He kisses you again and smiles into it. He moves to pull out but your legs push him back down. He looks over at you, his pupils blown wide. He grins and it’s all Caleb, hard inside you still.
You smile back and speak in a teasing tone, “How about another round, Colonel Caleb?”
©fincherrose original work
hi!! feel free to ignore this ask if it makes you uncomfortable! i didn't see anything about not writing for s/h on your profile, but i understand if it's not your thing. i really like the way you write angst, and i wanted to know your take on the lads guys with a reader who has self destructive tendencies. you wrote a lot of scenarios where the reader is hurt by something external, but i'm wondering how you think the guys would react if the reader is the one causing themselves pain. waiting until the hunger hurts to eat, pulling all nighters for almost no reason, and sometimes even hurting themselves physically if they're too stressed or sad. and of course doing their best to hide it, to avoid being a burden. thank you for sharing your writing, and i hope you're doing well!! <3
Hello! Thank you so much for the compliment, it means a lot <3. I tried my best to write it, you can read my take on it here. Hopefully, it can offer some comfort
Warning Signs
tags: caleb x reader, rafayel x reader, sylus x reader, xavier x reader, zayne x reader, established relationship, angsty, hurt/comfort
//cw: disordered thinking, self-harming behavior, depictions of mental illness(mainly anxiety and depression), disordered eating, disordered sleeping, suggestive dialogue, self-endangerment\\
summary: how the LADS guys react and respond to self-destructive tendencies/behavior (wc. 4.2k)
a/n: I wasn't sure if the contents count for 18+. Please look at the content warnings and proceed with caution as the subject materials addressed here are mature in nature and can be very upsetting.
Please know that while mental health struggles can be horrible and exhausting that there is always help available. That doesn't mean it'll be easy or immediate, but it does get better.
Here is a useful place to get started if you are looking for help: Mental Health Resources | Mental Health | CDC
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🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄
🍎CALEB🍎
Caleb is absolutely ready to prepare you your favorite meal, eager really, since he feels guilty over his growing absence due to colonel responsibilities. He hums to himself as he opens the fridge, only to stand there in complete surprise because your fridge has a water filter and a single apple. The emptiness twists his stomach and he shuts it, opening the freezer. There’s a few quarter full ice cream pints. He shuts the freezer and stands in the kitchen with his arms crossed.
That’s okay, he tells himself, it can be a double surprise. He heads off to the market to restock your fridge. He still manages to beat you back to the apartment, unpacking and washing groceries when you come home. Caleb spins into your line of sight, flourishing the apron he wore to entice you. You chuckle a little but your gaze is stuck on the pile of groceries on the kitchen counter. Caleb moves to take off your coat, pecking your cheek as he does.
“I’m making your favorite and figured I should do a little restock while at the market. How was work?”
“Good. Work was good.” You catch him by the elbow before he can walk back into the kitchen. “I actually wanted to watch a movie and head to bed early tonight. I’m not really hungry. Let’s just snuggle, hmm?”
Caleb nods and smiles, but his eyes track every inch of your body. “You go ahead and wash up while I put the groceries away. Then we’re two bugs in a rug.”
You laugh, the sound real.
But in the morning you skip breakfast. Caleb hardly sleeps in and when he does, it’s typically because he’s in your arms. When you fly out of bed, jump into new clothes, and dash out the door, he’s still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He gets up and wanders out of the bedroom to frown at the empty kitchen.
He calls to no one, “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
He relieves stress by prepping every ingredient he purchased. When you return home he has an irresistible soup simmering on the stove. Before he can offer any to you, you’re ladling some into a bowl for him and yourself. You take a few hurried bites and then sit back on the kitchen stool with an uneasy sigh.
Caleb knows what’s wrong without you saying anything and the tension slips into his voice, “You’re nauseous because you haven’t eaten.”
You drag your spoon through the soup and refuse to meet his eyes. “No, I just haven’t been feeling well lately…” You push the bowl away. “Thank you for making dinner, I’m gonna wash up.”
“You need to eat.” The sternness in his voice makes you flinch and a wave of guilt hits him hard. “I-” He purses his lips and takes in a breath, offering his hands to you. He keeps his voice gentle, “Why don’t you just try for a few more bites, hm? I promise it’ll feel better.”
You look at him and Caleb’s heart settles. He’s about to relax when you stand and leave, whispering over your shoulder, “I said I’m not hungry.”
That night Caleb startles awake to you coughing. He feels along the slight dip in the bed where you should be and feels nothing. He gets out of bed very quietly and peeks out the door, pausing when he sees the stove light is on. He leans a little further out of the doorway and sees you hovering over the sink, hurriedly eating and breaking to cough. Your grip on the counter is tight and he can see the tension in your back and shoulders.
Caleb bites down on his lip to keep it from shaking and parts from the doorway in immense pain. He quietly calls out your name and you startle as if an explosion went off. You look back at him and instantly start crying. He goes to hug you and you push him away before hiding your face in your hands.
“Don’t!” Your voice stings your own ears and you sigh in defeat, letting Caleb hold you. “I really wasn’t hungry… and then I was and I-” You bite down hard on your cheek, sick of crying. “I don’t want to bother you. Please just go back to bed.”
Caleb rubs your back and strikes down a flurry of responses in exchange for a gentle, “I’ll heat up a bowl of soup, okay? And I’ll go back to bed and when you’re done, I’ll be there.” He hesitates before adding, “When you’re ready, we’ll talk, but that’s later. For now, just have some soup.”
🫧RAFAYEL🫧
Rafayel takes a long look at you slumped sideways in the passenger seat of his car. He’d already done a few laps around the block, but at this rate you were going to be late to your meeting. He clears his throat and all that happens is a soft rumble of a snore escapes you. Finally, he builds up the courage and gently shakes your shoulder. You jolt to life, knees knocking against the car and hands flailing.
“Tired, cutie?”
“Crap, yeah, sorry.” You curse again when you see the time and give Rafayel a kiss on the cheek before scrambling out of the car.
That night he’s sure you're asleep when he stops painting to find a snack, but he passes by the bedroom and sees the eerie glow of your cellphone. He stops for a moment and watches you, the colors from the screen shining onto your face. He knocks on the door, a little rapping sound. You startle, the phone falling onto your face. Rafayel winces and runs over, half apologizing and half laughing.
“It’s late.” He sits by your side and pats your back. “You really need to sleep.”
You smile at him, wrapping a hand around his wrist and tugging him into a kiss. He kisses back, but you sense the reservation and pull back with a frown. “C’mon, Raf. Just a little?”
He puts a finger on your lip and smiles. “Tomorrow morning, after you’ve slept.”
You pout and whine, “Rafayel.”
He almost caves looking at you, so perfect in his arms. But he knows the only sleep you’ve gotten was that nap in the car. He kisses your shoulder. “We can have all the fun in the world once you’ve slept.”
You groan and turn your back to him. He sees you aren’t pouting anymore when you pull out your phone and the screen lights your face.
“Hey…” Rafayel drapes over you, but you ignore him. “Cutie?”
“Just go back to painting, Rafayel.”
Rafayel doesn’t feel the normal rush of a challenge, instead only a glimmer of irritation and a slap of hurt. He keeps his voice cheery, “It’s time for bed-”
“Am I a child?” You snap, looking up at him with a glare he’s never seen before.
He sits straight, his hands leaving you. He swallows hard and laughs, the sound comes out nervous. “Are you upset with me?”
“No.”
He tilts, trying to get a better look at your face. “Is something wrong?”
You sigh, pointedly rolling your eyes and another flash of hurt goes through him, which he chides himself for. Clearly, you’re in a bad mood. Usually, you’re in a bad mood with him, not at him and a strange sort of distance cleaves between you.
He says your name again and the sound is serious this time. “When’s the last time you slept?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes, it does.”
He waits for you to look at him and after a while you. In that very moment he sees it, the dark circles under your eyes, the redness surrounding your iris, and the dryness of your lips. The frustration he felt is out the door. Last time he saw you like this, you didn’t sleep until you passed out. He lost his voice yelling at you and you didn’t look at him head on for a month.
“You need to sleep.” His voice trembles and he coughs to hide it. “I’m serious.”
“I will, lay off.”
“I will not. How long has it been? Not napping but actual sleep. Two days?” He shakes your elbow gently. “Three?” He feels the color drain from his face because he can’t remember the last time he saw you actually sleeping. “More-?”
“I’ll sleep when I’m tired, okay?” Your voice is rushed and he sees the nerves in your eyes.
He’s caught you and his voice is low when he asks, “How many days?”
“I don’t know.” You sit up, phone left behind on the bed and squint through the dark to try to see Rafayel’s face. “I don’t know. I’m just not tired, okay? I really did try and then I got frustrated and I’m sure it’ll happen again because I slept in the car and I just have to wait for it.”
“You can’t keep doing this.”
“What do you want me to do?” You flinch at your own voice, shocked at yourself for yelling. “I can’t just promise you I’ll sleep and go to bed, it doesn’t work like that.”
“That’s not what I’m asking for.”
“Well, I’m obviously trying, okay? It's just not working.” You lay back down with a huff and pull at your hair, which Rafayel instantly stops you from doing. “Nothing’s working!”
“Then we try again.” Rafayel holds your hands still in his own and when he speaks, you can’t help but believe him. “We try until it works.”
☾SYLUS☾
Sylus is a short distance away from you, following your zig zag lines as your motorcycle revs and speeds through the street. It’s exactly the sort of area to speed in and is exactly where he told you not to go. He knows you can hear him in your earpiece.
“Turn around.” He brakes hard, pulling over to the sidewalk when the line clicks and takes off his helmet to shout, “Turn around!”
And you do, in the worst way possible, motorcycle spinning out under you. You fall to one side and the motorcycle flies the other way. A car instantly crushing it and Sylus’s evol is lashing out to shield you before he can even process the danger you’re in. Tires screech and vehicles swerve to avoid the mass. He’s by your side in a second, grabbing you by the shoulder and dragging you to the sidewalk.
“What was that?” He knows his voice is raised, but his ears are ringing so loud he can’t hear himself. “You know how to ride. I know you know how to ride. What were you thinking?”
You take the helmet off, laughing and try to take Sylus’s hand. He steps away from you, his gaze intense and chest quickly moving up and down. You sigh and cross your arms.
“I was having fun and made a mistake. No biggie.”
He points across the way at the crushed bike. “I think it is a rather big deal, actually.”
You shift your weight and can’t hide the wince. In that second, a tingly sensation climbs through your entire body and when you blink, you're in Sylus’s office. He sits you down on the couch and hurries to pull out the first aid kit. You go to stand and he glares at you, actually glares at you and you stop dead in your tracks.
You accuse, “You’re overreacting.”
“You’re hurt.” His jaw tenses and his finger brush against your riding boots. You gasp when he takes off your boot. The words fall from his lips, quiet and afraid. “You could have died.”
“I didn’t.” You reply simply, hands turned to fists to keep from reacting as he pulls up your pant leg. The scrape is worse than you thought but the sight of it makes your heart beat with dual fear and excitement.
Sylus’s hands continue to move, cleaning the wound and applying ointment. After a minute, he chokes out, “Did you want to?”
You jolt back, hissing in a breath when your leg knocks against Sylus’s hands. You look at him, wide eyed and hurt, but he sees you. His already pale face almost turns gray and he moves back on the touch, putting his head in his hands.
“Wait, Sylus-”
“Is that what tonight was? When you said you wanted to go for a ride? What about yesterday when we blew up that mansion? When we were down at the shooting range the day before?” He raises his head and his eyes are almost crazed, his entire body shaking. “Don’t you dare use me to hurt yourself.”
“It’s not like that.” You can’t even convince yourself and shame slams into you.
You rush off the couch and Sylus grabs you only long enough to stop you from leaving. When his hand leaves your wrist you shiver from the cold that washes around you. Your back is to him.
“Where are you going?”
“Somewhere else.” But you don’t move. You feel if you take another step you’ll suddenly break into a million pieces.
“What are you going to do?”
Your voice shakes, “I don’t know.” You take a deep breath and shrink into yourself. “C-can you hold me?”
He sweeps you off your feet, cradling you in his arms. You bury your face into his neck and try to keep your breathing even. Sylus feels your body tense and breath hitch.
“Hold onto me.” When you don’t move, he repeats, “Hold onto me.”
You do, squeezing him the way you used to do to your stuffed animals. The shame you were choking on turns to fear- bright and haunting. You hold Sylus so tight he strains to breathe. Then you let him go, your shaking gone in a single second to limpness and you can’t get yourself to move because what were you thinking? What did you just do?
Before you can spiral, Sylus grabs onto you just as tight. He calls out your name and the sound swirls strangely into your head. “Breathe.”
You do, with a sputtering cough. Sylus is everywhere and you melt into him with a blubbery sob. All you can see is the crumbled motorcycle you left behind in the street. And some part of you wonders how it would have felt to have gone with it.
You choke out, “Don’t let go of me.”
“I won’t.” Sylus’s grip remains strong, permanent. “I’m right here.”
✦XAVIER✦
Xavier can’t stop himself from staring at your forearm. He saw the bandage during training and though he saw you get the injury -took you to the medical clinic himself- his alarms were raised. It’s been a week. At your typical healing pace, the bandage shouldn’t be so big or require so many changes. He feels like throwing up, he feels like some possessive asshole, but he stays hidden in the doorway to your bedroom and watches you anyway.
You peel back the bandage and all Xavier can do is stare. The wound is healing fine, but around it are bruises and half moon scratches. He gulps and feels himself start to shake as you grab your arm and squeeze. You hand lines up with the marks. Under your fingernails, skin breaks. Xavier knows in that moment he is utterly helpless and a spark of sudden fear lights in his chest. He pushes the door open and you jump, immediately turning to hide your arm.
“Xavier-”
“What are you feeling right now?” His voice is eerie calm, he doesn’t move any closer to you and there is a mask up that turns his eyes blank and watchful.
There’s a lump in your throat, embarrassment, shame, and a thousand other things that you can’t speak around except to manage a small, “I’m sorry.”
Xavier shakes his head and repeats, “What are you feeling right now?” When you remain shaking and silent, he continues. “I need to know how you’re feeling so I can figure out how to help.”
His calmness which soothes you scares you now and you stutter, “I don’t know! There’s something wrong with me, Xavier. I- I need this.”
“Can you… can you explain it to me?” His mask slips, his nerves tumbling forward and suddenly he’s appearing at your side, hands hovering. “Can I hug you?” You nod and he takes you tenderly in his arms, breathing deeply into your hair. He softly requests, “Just try to tell me.”
“I have problems and- Xavier, I can’t do this.” His hold loosens on you but you grip him tightly. “You’ll think I’m disgusting.”
“You aren’t.” He rubs your back, taps the same pace you use on him for his panic attacks. “You’re just in a rough spot… This isn’t the first time, is it?” His voice breaks and he lets himself sink into you. “What usually happens?”
You shake your head, match your breathing to his. “I change to weekly sessions.”
“What else?”
The two of you stand that way for a long time while you think. Xavier is thinking too, thinking of all the signs he missed, of how long he waited, of how he let his fear stop him. He wants to be angry, at himself, or you, or the situation. But any chance of that fiery shield is gone. All that’s left is an insistence that he handles this correctly. That he doesn’t scare you or make you feel worse.
He has no idea what he’s doing when he repeats, “Weekly sessions. What else?”
You don’t remember how or when, but you’re on the bed, Xavier’s body like an assuring weighted blanket. It feels better not having to say it to his face. “Medication changes.” You reach over and run a hand through his hair and count the steady beats of his heart. “Building a schedule. Group meetings. No drinking. No overtime.”
“And what can you do instead?”
You close your eyes. Xavier shifts in your silence, adjusting his hold on your hand. “I go for a walk. I… I do a coloring page or journal. I talk to you. I listen to people. I sing something. I read my favorite book.” You take a deep breath, breaking the pattern you’ve followed. “Xavier, have you ever felt this way?”
“Yes.” His head raises from your chest and you look down, startled at the answer. “Many times.”
Your voice is small, “What do you do?”
“I keep myself busy.” His head settles back and you turn your attention to the ceiling. “I train. One time I got a pet fish… I talk to you.”
“How did you stop?”
“I got scared of ruining things. Of failing people.” He pauses and thinks and finds himself surprised to say, “I stopped holding back. Started doing the things I wanted to.”
“Do you think that’ll ever work for me?”
“I don’t know. But we have to try.”
❄ZAYNE❄
Zayne pauses before shutting his car door, his attention captured by you in the window, reading a book. He looks down at his watch, 7pm. When he enters the house, he does so almost sneakily, his movement quick and quiet. He walks to the living room and stands there, waiting for you to notice him. You flip a page and he clears his throat.
“You’re home early.” You give him a smile but it doesn’t reach your eyes.
Zayne nods and sets his coat on the arm of the couch before sitting beside you. You scoot closer to the other arm of the couch, away from him, but set your book down and give him your attention.
He asks, his eyes desperately searching yours, “Everything okay? I thought you had a dinner with some friends tonight?”
You nod and he knows you can tell he’s nervous because you stretch out your legs and settle them over his lap as if to placate him. “I just didn’t feel like going out tonight.”
He lays his head back as if to nap, but keeps an eye on you. Your breathing is quick but movements are slow, turning the pages in your book at an uneven pace. As if you aren’t reading at all. Zayne shift slightly to get a better look at your face and discovers you are, indeed, not reading. Your eyes are blank and unfocused. They do not move as you turn another page.
Zayne swallows and looks away before casually repeating, “Everything okay?”
You snap your book closed and stand from the couch, walking out the door with a quiet, “I forgot something at home.”
Zayne doesn’t follow you or say anything else, in fact he is frozen until his phone buzzes. You’ve texted an apology and that you made it home safely. You say you’ll be in a better mood the next day. Zayne clears his throat and looks around the empty living room, now darkened from the setting sun.
The first thing he does is consult your safety plan. Most of the time, its in a file in his office, but in times like this, he keeps it secured to his notebook, which is filled with notes. Pulling the notebook out fills him with dread and loneliness, as well as a terrible fear that you’ll hate him for it. You’ve looked at the notebook before, on one of your better days and he assured you it’s always open to you. There are some signs he knows you'll never write down, either from embarrassment or denial. Those are the ones he needs to keep an eye out for. There have been times you’ve thanked his efforts and times where they just make you scream nothing is going to work. The pit in Zayne’s stomach tells him this might be one of those times that make him feel useless.
Then, he looks online for events near your apartment. He finds the perfect one, a book shop having a special clearance week. He pushes his own fear and frustration aside, heading to your apartment. He sends a text, knowing it’ll always go better than a call. In a few minutes you’re rushing out of the lobby. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. It’s not that you look happy necessarily, but he can see the pleasant surprise through your every movement as you walk to his car.
He leans over and opens the door for you, and smiles when you greet, “Thank you for thinking of me. I actually saw the flyer a week ago but couldn’t convince myself to go.” You pause and your eyes scan his face with a watchful nervousness. “Really, thanks.”
“Of course.” He keeps one hand available to you, which you slowly grab and interlock fingers with.
At the book store, he gives you ample space, close when you need him and nearby when you don’t. He finds books he knows you’ve been looking for and collects them for you. After, you shyly invite him up to your apartment as if it’s back when you first started dating. He is at once relieved and disappointed in his relief. You notice his briefcase when he takes it up with him, but don’t say anything until you’re behind closed doors.
“I appreciate you taking me out.” You’re smiling but your hands are twisting, glued to the briefcase. Zayne sets it down and pulls out the notebook, tensing when you huff. “It isn’t like that!”
He says your name very softly, slightly turned from you, but you can’t see the cue with all the thoughts rushing through your head. “I’ve been doing well! Like really well. I can cancel a dinner, it’s not the end of the world.”
He sets the notebook in the counter between the two of you and you step away from it. He asks in a voice so fragile you’re instantly afraid of breaking him, “Have you been taking your medication?”
“I-” You swallow hard and Zayne sighs, rubbing at his face. “I just said I was feeling better!”
“The medication makes you feel better, that’s why you need to take it everyday, not just wait until you feel bad.” He sees the panic in your eyes and feels it creeping into him. “How long were you alone in my house?”
You scoff, pushing anger in front of your fear, “What? I can’t be at your house now?”
“You only do that when you don’t feel safe. We have a plan for a reason, we’re honest with each other for a reason.” Zayne keeps his voice steady but the situation gnaws at him. “You’re scared and I can’t sit back doing nothing. It’s not who I am, it’s not what you deserve.”
It’s as if someone poured a bucket of water on you. Your shoulders sag and you physically stagger toward him. He catches you and holds you, even when you turn away from him. After a few seconds, he feels your breathing even out and you hesitantly wrap your arms around him.
“How do you always know?” Your voice is muffled in his chest and he knows it will be a while before you can look at him.
Zayne isn’t any less afraid, but he holds the two of you steady and that fact he is able to do so makes him feel a little better. “Because it’s you and me.”
©fincherrose original work
Pick Up Lines
tags: caleb x reader, rafayel x reader, sylus x reader, xavier x reader, zayne x reader, fluff, established relationship,
//cw: improper use of evol, bad pick up lines, jealousy, possessiveness, light medical stuff,\\
summary: how the LADS guys act when someone hits on you in front of them (wc. 2.1k)
////☀////☀////☀////☀////☀////☀////☀//☀\\☀\\\\☀\\\\☀\\\\☀\\\\☀\\\\☀\\\\☀\\\\
🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄
🍎CALEB🍎
The station at Linkon is full of people rushing off to and from SkyHaven. You dodge the runners and walk on your tip toes to try to find Caleb. A few people bump into you and apologies fly left and right through the air. You keep walking through the station.
You mumble a curse under your breath, stopping to ground yourself.
“Sorry, were you talking to me?”
You look up bewildered and shaking your head at the stranger. Their face turns from playful to smirking. “No?”
“No- no, sorry. I was talking to myself.”
They point at themselves. “No?” They flash a smile. “Do you want to?”
“Huh?” Before you can gather your thoughts and make sense of the situation or just leave, you're stuck to the ground. The familiar weight of Caleb’s evol wraps around you. “What?”
They grin when you stay there, mistaking Caleb’s interference for your interest. “We can grab a coffee if you don’t have anywhere to be?”
“Uh…”
You hear the sweet sound of your name from Caleb and his evol slips from you. You jolt away and slam back into Caleb. He wraps his arms around you, holds his hands together at your waist. He sets his chin on your shoulder.
“I’d love to grab a coffee. I take it black, they take it with two sugars and a splash of cream. Could you get that for us?” He reaches one hand and pushes the stranger away. He gives a long and drawn out, “Thanks.”
The stranger, their face pale, darts into the crowd. You turn and hit Caleb’s arm, the metal of it stinging your hand. He holds it and gives it a kiss.
“You didn’t see me.” He accuses with a frown, practically glued to you when you take back your hand and head to the exit of the station. “I was right there and you didn’t see me.”
“There were so many people.” You catch his pout and sigh, grabbing his hand and slowing your pace so he can hover properly around you. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, even if you flirt with people in front of me.”
“Caleb!” You narrow your eyes at him. “They approached me. They took the hint and left. Speaking of- you shouldn’t be using your evol like that!” You look him up and down before whispering, “No kisses if you keep that up.”
“What!” He throws his head back and groans, but when he straightens he smiles because you’re still holding his hand. “Totally unfair.”
🫧RAFAYEL🫧
Rafayel had to bribe you with kisses to get you to help him host the gala. He really just had to ask but the kisses didn’t hurt. You keep a watchful eye on him to make sure he stays out of trouble. This is a particularly wealthy and stuck up group, the group Thomas labeled the ‘necessary evil’. You catch a quick glimpse of his eyes darkening and you begin to make your way across the galley. Unfortunately, there’s an entire line of needy guests between the two of you. You sort through them with lots of thank yous, hand shaking, and head nodding.
All that’s left is a young heir whose name you were sure you had memorized when overlooking the guest list, but are now drawing a blank on. You smile and hold out your hand.
“Pleasure to meet you. Thank you-”
He takes your hand in his own, his palm sweaty and grip tight. He offers the kind of smile that drips with money. “Do I know you?”
You falter and take another look at him. You are certain you’ve only met his mother before, a guest you would’ve liked to see on the list. You swallow and press your memory further, forgetting a guest like this would be a serious blunder.
Before you can get in a word to bait him into saying more, he crosses his arms and laughs. “Aha! I remember now.” He leans forward, his lips too close to your ear. “I saw you in my dreams last night-”
“Kevin!” There’s a loud smacking sound and your eyes widen to see Rafayel’s hand clapped around his shoulder. “How’s your mother holding up with all the fraud charges against your father? I’m so sorry she couldn’t make it.”
You purse your lips to stop your jaw from falling to the floor, stepping away from Kevin and trying to get Rafayel to meet your gaze. His eyes are crinkled with a smile that you know means trouble. Before anything worse can happen, you step between the two of them and promptly lead Rafayel away.
You toss over your shoulder, “We have an interview in five, excuse us.”
Rafayel puts his arm around you and looks back to narrow his eyes at Kevin. You grip tightly onto his hand and warn, “If I see one more tabloid-”
“No tabloids. No problems here, cutie.” He continues walking nowhere with you, his dark expression slowly melting into a pout the longer his arm is around you.
☾SYLUS☾
It was your idea to go line dancing and somehow, Sylus beat you at it. Not that you can necessarily win line dancing, but you can be the best dancer and Sylus had no competition there. You walk off the dance floor as the tempo ticks up for the fourth time, making sure to give Sylus a nod that you’re fine and he can keep dancing. He nods his head back, the gesture infuriatingly charming. You fan yourself and make your way to the bar, which is less crowded than you thought it would be.
You order your favorite drink with a breathless smile, the music causing you to bob your head in time with the beat. The tempo must have caught up to the more experienced dancers because a flood of thirsty people hit the bar. You glance over to see Sylus is still at it and can’t help but smile. The seat next to you is quickly taken and you’re still smiling at the sight of Sylus when you accidentally meet the stranger’s gaze.
They smile back and you awkwardly nod your head. You look over to the bartender, but he’s trying to placate a fight. The stranger turns their seat toward you.
“My friends said I couldn’t get the hottest person here to grab a drink with me.” They give you a smile, friendly and nervous. “Wanna prove them wrong?”
There’s a loud ringing from a bell and the bartender calls out, “Free round!”
You swivel around with wide eyes to see Sylus handing his black card to the bartender. He meanders over and plants himself between you and the stranger. He leans onto the bar counter, facing you. The bartender gives you your drink and Sylus’s, which Sylus slides over to the stranger.
“Here, you look like you need it.” Sylus turns his back to the stranger and gives you a smile. “It’s a little crowded here, kitten. Let’s catch our breath someone else.”
You slide out of your seat and wrap your arm around him. Sylus’s eyes remain glued to you. He kisses your temple.
You whisper, “A whole round?”
“And I’ll get another if you’d like.”
✦XAVIER✦
It’s the rare office party that Xavier actually has to attend but the whole time the two of you have been separated by eager members of management and a flurry of excited new hires. You take another glance to the clock, the official ending time is soon- not that it seems to matter to anyone. Time to find Xavier for a perfectly planned exit. You spot the top of his silver head and begin to make your way over. You’re a few steps away and reach out your hand to poke him when his blue eyes find yours. His face doesn’t change but his gaze softens and you smile at the sight, about to tease him. Something catches on your sleeve and you turn at the sensation.
Someone you don’t recognize. A new hire from the looks of the sticker name tag curling off her blouse. She looks at you eagerly and you respond instinctively with a smile and quiet hello. She takes a step closer to you and you have to catch her from stumbling. You realize she’s perhaps a few glasses more than necessary into the complimentary wine and pat her back.
“Everything alright…?” You drift into silence at the sight of her panicked eyes. You set her straight and your hands hover, not sure what to expect.
She takes in a gasping breath and speaks so quickly you’re not sure what she says. You keep your smile in hopes it’ll comfort her and speak gently, “Could you say that again?”
She blurts, “You’re so pretty I forgot my pick up line.”
“Oh…” You blink at her and there’s not enough time to say anything before a hand wraps around your waist.
You jump and look at Xavier with your mouth dropped and face red. He’s focused on the tipsy girl. He over enunciates to her, “I think there’s cold waters by the bar if you want to sober up.”
Her eyes dart from his arm around you to his face, which you can’t quite see with the way he’s keeping you in place. Her face pales and she runs away. The second she disappears into the crowd, you pull at Xavier’s hand but he refuses to loosen his hold on you.
You hiss, feeling your face grow hot, “This is a work event.”
He sighs his response as he ushers you toward the door, “You aren’t safe anywhere.” He shakes his head and mutters to himself, “I have to stay on guard.”
You hit his arm playfully, your head whipping back and forth to make sure no one notices your exit or your closeness. You tease, “My valiant knight.”
The second you’re out the door, he pulls you in and kisses you. When he lets go, his hands remain cupping your face and you roll your eyes pointedly at him.
“Can’t believe I have to compete with the new hires now-”
You cut him off with another kiss and scold, “Who do I love?” He shrugs and looks away. You sigh and poke the center of his chest. “Who do I love?”
He sighs, “Me.”
“That’s right.”
❄ZAYNE❄
You’re waiting by the front desk as Zayne’s staff prints out the paperwork for your next visit when the patient behind you clears their throat. You look over your shoulder and offer a smile which is immediately returned. You see the clipboard they are filling out.
You keep your voice quiet, “New patient?”
They set down their pen and nod, nervously answering, “Yeah, I hear Dr. Li is the best.”
You nod and fully turn around, leaning against the desk. There’s no one else in the waiting room so you speak normally, “You’re in good hands. I’ve been coming here for a long time now.”
They clear their throat and glance around before they ask, “Did it hurt?”
You shake your head and reassure as quickly as you can, “No, the treatment isn’t painful. Most of the time they just run tests to monitor you-”
“I mean,” They clear their throat again as their face turns red. “Was it painful when you fell from heaven?”
A clatter causes you to jump. You look back with wide eyes to see Zayne scrambling to collect his clipboard and stack of papers from the floor. Your face flushes as you and a nurse rush over, helping him straighten up. One of his fingers grazes your hand and he yanks away as if you’ve burned him. He stands with a short and awkward chuckle. The nurses and assistants look between the two of you with wild eyes. Your mouth opens and promptly shuts.
He hands you your papers, his movement robotic. “Very well. I’ll see you in a week for your next appointment.”
He turns on his heel and bumps into the door. You call out, “Zayne?” He straightens before he turns, his eyebrows raising as if you’d just said something obscene. “Still on for lunch in half an hour?”
“No need, please feel free to…” He waves his hand around in the air, trying to conjure up the words. “Explore other activities that may interest you.”
You set your hands on your hips and do your best to keep the scolding from your voice. “I’m really only interested in having lunch with my husband, thank you.”
Zayne blushes the same way he did when you first asked him out and you have to resist facepalming. The patient behind you mutters a mortified apology.
“Yes, lunch. With me. Your husband.” He nods and walks through the door, still talking to himself. “Yes, that's right.”
©fincherrose original work
Your Love
tags: caleb x reader, rafayel x reader, sylus x reader, xavier x reader, zayne x reader, angsty af, hurt no comfort
//cw: disordered thinking, references to sex\\
summary: The LADS guys realize you love someone else (wc. 2.8k)
a/n: Got inspired by some music!
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🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄
🍎CALEB🍎
"Don't fool yourself, she was heartache from the moment that you met her" -Jeff Buckley, Forget Her
Going to your place, unlocking the door without needing to ask is one of the few things Caleb feels he has left. You change the code more than he expects and each time you tell him casually or send it in between texts. Even after you told him about your boyfriend, squealing with excitement and shaking him by the shoulders, you sent him the updated code. He feels the rise of anxiety now, finger hesitating over the last number. He presses it and his shoulders relax and the sound of the door unlocking.
He doesn’t have to call your name as he walks in. You told him tonight was date night. He knows you’ll be upset that he’s stopped by since he said he was busy to avoid meeting your boyfriend. You’ve had boyfriends before, one in high school and a few interests in college. But when he came back to you to find someone else had begun filling his empty space, he knew this one was different. He leaves traces of himself by cleaning up your apartment.
His own penthouse in Skyhaven is too organized, so cleaning up your apartment is top on his destress to do list. He loses himself in your living room, your kitchen, your bathroom. It’s not that you’re messy, you just don’t clean the way he does. When he’s done, the entire living room sparkles. He sets his hands on his hips and looks around, nodding to himself.
One place left. Your bedroom.
He pushes the open door further, reaches over to switch on the light. Your bedroom is always the messiest part of your apartment, but it doesn’t look all that bad this time. Even your bed is made. Caleb narrows his eyes and shuffles over to the closet, yanking the door open. Score. The clutter that typically spreads along your desk and bed has been entirely shoved into your closet, half of it crumbled up notes.
He tsks and grabs your tashbin, about to start sorting through the mess when something catches his eye. He reaches in to touch it, his hand yanking back at the smooth, wet feeling. Unsure, he rustles the trashbin around until he sees the golden wrapper. A condom.
Caleb staggers, choking on his own spit and can’t steady himself on anything. He falls awkwardly into the closet, bringing everything in there down with him. For a few seconds he lays there, not entirely sure what he should do. Somehow, everything is wrong. And he can only blame himself.
You're still that little kid that got scared of thunderstorms in his head. Tears, at once angry and sad, gather in his eyes. He rubs them and sits up, a few things falling as he shakes himself. He kicks the trashbin away. He shouldn’t have ever left you. He shoves everything back in the closet with a little extra force. Slams it shut. His fault for leaving you. His fault for the stupid, fucked up things that fill his head.
He wants you so bad it hurts. It should have been him that kissed you all those years ago, him guiding you through pleasure, his traces in your room- on your body. He slaps himself for thinking it. Curses himself for daring to stake any idiot claim over you. Perfect, perfect you. Miserable him.
Caleb takes in a deep breath and steadies himself because you love him. Just a little different from how he loves you. But it is love. He opens the closet, brings the trashbin back over without looking at it and begins to sort through the things you’ve hidden away.
🫧RAFAYEL🫧
"Now I want someone badly to burn in here with me... don't do anything, do it with me" -Jeff Buckley, I Want Someone Badly
Rafayel escorts the last guest out of the studio, his smile vanishing and a large sigh escaping him as soon as the doors are closed. He turns and spots you picking up some trash and instantly his smile is back.
“Hey, cutie! Long time no see.” He walks over and waits for you to pay attention to him.
You look up with a smile and stretch. “We seriously need to get Thomas a thank you gift for handling this every night.” You elbow Rafayel gently. “I sent a checkup text and he says he’s feeling a lot better.”
Rafayel rocks back and forth on his feet and leans in to excitedly whisper, “So which horrible slasher are we watching tonight?”
“VelociPastor!” You laugh and throw an arm around Rafayel and he’s so happy he could explode into one of those abstract painting that look like a rainbow threw up. Something buzzes in your pocket and the two of you are so close he can feel it. “Ah, one second.”
You walk away and a cool air fills the space you leave. Rafayel purses his lips and watches you fiddle with your phone. When you turn back to him, you’re frowning but your eyes sparkle. He knows what that look means, but he begs to be wrong.
“I’m sorry, Raf. We can watch it tomorrow, okay? Something urgent came up for me.”
Your beau. You won’t talk about them, not even their name. But a month ago Rafayel went to surprise you in Linkon and saw the two of you kissing at your front door. He hoped it was some fling. Since then you’ve proved it was more, but movie night was untouched. Until now.
“That’s okay.” Rafayel keeps his face gentle but he wants to do a thousand other things. None of which are gentle. “Tomorrow it is. Need a ride?”
“Actually-”
There’s two quick honks from outside that make Rafayel jump. He turns to look at the window with disgust. You giggle and his eyes dart over, face going blank for a moment. By the time you look at him, he’s smiling again. But his head is tilted.
“New friend?”
You laugh as you grab your things from around the gallery. “I told him not to honk, sorry about that. I think he wanted to see your face in the window. The whole world is curious about you, Rafayel.” You stop by the door to give Rafayel a hug and he holds you tighter for a moment before letting you go.
He holds open the door for you, calling as you jog out, “See you tomorrow!”
You turn to give him a big wave and hop into the car. He waits for the two of you to drive off, looking long after you’ve disappeared. You'll be back tomorrow.
☾SYLUS☾
"You can't seem to hold me, can't seem to let me go so I can't find surrender and I can't keep control" -Big Thief, Vampire Empire
This time is different, he can feel it. The energy this one steals from you- late night phone calls with your voice breaking, lies flooding from your mouth, endless sighs. You’ve dated before, flirted and fawned and fucked -but loved? You haven’t loved, not that way, not around him until now. He saw your bleary eyes and sent you to gather filed information from some back room, but there you are in the hallway with the box of folders at your feet.
“I know…” You whisper into the phone, pressing your forehead to the cool window. Your breath fogs the glass. “I know, I’m sorry.”
Sylus is careful not to make a sound as he watches you from the doorway of his office. You turn slowly, leaning your back on the window and running a hand through your hair. Unintelligible whispers float to him, the melody of them sad. He feels angry watching you fret, angry that someone would dare hurt you like this.
“No, I promise.” You plead with the phone and the tremble in your voice stabs into Sylus. “It’s important Hunter-” You go silent and Sylus grips onto his chest, swearing he can feel your heart twisting. “Of course you’re important, but I-”
A heavy and long silence fills the hallway. You’re stuck nodding your head. Sylus debates calling out to you. This moment is less embarrassing than the others and he would pretend to not have heard anything. But then you turn back to the window and the moonlight makes the tears on your face gleam. He hates himself for thinking you are beautiful in this moment but you are beautiful. Beautiful and here and so close to him that he could walk over to you and end it all. Ruin the friendship he worked so hard for. Ruin the timid trust you have built in him. Instead he just listens to more of your quick and quiet bargaining and wishes the voice on the other side would disappear.
“I’ll make it up to you.” After a few seconds, you lower the phone from your ear and rub at your face.
Sylus walks back to his desk, picking up a random assortment of papers to look at. He doesn’t look at you when you enter the office. You set the box of files on his desk and settle on the couch. He peers over the top of his paper at you. He could keep you here. All he has to do is ask you to stay. You’re the type who would stay.
He speaks as casually as his voice will allow, “Need a ride back to Linkon?”
You look over and he keeps his gaze locked onto you. The sight of your red eyes makes him want to look away but he refuses. He wishes this look alone was enough for you to tell how he feels. Instead you offer a teasing smile.
“So soon? We're in the middle of gathering information.”
“It’s late.”
Your tone changes and he tenses at the hurt in it, “That’s never stopped us before.”
He lies and hates himself for it, “I wanted to go for a ride. I’ve been cooped up in here too long. What do you say, ride to Linkon?”
You consider him carefully and a smile springs to your face. Sylus breathes at the sight of it. “Really? I’ll get my helmet.” You race to the door, then stop and look over your shoulder at him. “Thanks, Sylus.”
He swallows and returns your smile. “Of course.”
✦XAVIER✦
"And I know that you know that you got the potential to pick me up and I want you to use it" -Fiona Apple, I Want You to Love Me
Xavier doesn’t understand. How is he supposed to understand? It was supposed to be you and him. Somewhere his intention was lost and he felt the sudden shift in the way you looked at him- followed it wordlessly from warmth to heartbreak to warmth again. You stopped loving him before he could manage saying a single word to stop you. He loves you, wants you. How did that get lost in some sort of awkward shuffle? Well, it did.
He can only linger now, your laugh and lovesick eyes haunting him. He knocks on your door, dismissing his self pity and quieting his rage. You open the door with a long sniffle and jump into his arms, sobbing. He holds you. Feels better and worse with you in his arms. He immediately rubs your back, walks you over to the couch, which is already lined in used tissues. He spares a quick glance at the half eaten dinner and lit candles on the table.
“I just don’t understand.” You cry, letting go to sit down and then immediately putting your head on Xavier’s shoulder after he sits. “I tried so hard. I learned a new recipe and I got a new outfit and everything was perfect -and then they just left. Just got up and left halfway through dinner.”
Xavier doesn’t say anything, just rubs your back. He wants to curse, scream, set something on fire. But that never helps you and he’s here to help you. He lifts your face up and dries your tears. You aren’t pouting this time, this is no small conflict. You’re hurt. He feels it. He suffers through it.
“Did they say anything?” He hopes they did. He hopes their house caught on fire.
“No!” You knock your head against his chest and he stops you from doing it again, hoping you don’t notice how his hands shake touching you. “They won’t text me back or pick up my calls either.”
You stand suddenly and whip off your robe. Xavier averts his eyes, but it's too late. Your bare skin burns into his brain, the gentle looking fabric clinging to you in all the right places and leaving the length of your leg bare. He tosses you your robe. It falls back to the floor.
“I’m serious, Xavier. Look at me.” His eyes quickly meet yours, his jaw clenched as he holds his gaze there. Tears fall when you blink and your voice turns to a whisper, “Why am I not enough?”
He leans down and picks up the fallen robe. When he stands, he wraps it around you and holds you in his arms. “You are enough.” He wishes you would trust him when he says it. “You are.”
❄ZAYNE❄
"Tell me 'Don't' so I can crawl back in. Please, hurry, leave me, I can't breathe" -Mitski, First Love/Late Spring
Zayne knows you’re hiding something by the way you fidget in his waiting room before you see him walking in. When you do, your hands are behind your back and your grin is akin to the cheshire cat. He raises a brow but takes you back to take your vitals, something he always checks himself. He holds out his hand to hook you up to the pulse reader, sees the flourish from the corner of his eyes. His gaze is focused on the reader as you clear your throat. The number is way higher than it should be.
“Is everything-” He sees it then, the giant diamond sparkling on your ring finger. A strange sound manages to slip from him before he clamps his mouth shut. “Is that?”
You giggle and nod, quickly standing to give him a hug before settling back in the chair. “I begged Katie to let me tell you in person!” You hold your hand up and wiggle your finger, your smile brighter than the diamond. “I insisted since you were my friend long before you were her colleague. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
Zayne blinks, sure his heart is about to explode though he’s sure it isn’t medically possible. A heart attack however? Your smile shrinks and you narrow your eyes.
“Did you already know? I told her not to tell anyone until I could tell you-”
“No, no.” His voice is pitched and he clears his throat, forcing a slight smile to hide the tremble on his lips. “I had no idea, I’m just shocked- and- and delighted. Congratulations.”
Your smile is back full force as you go into detail about when Katie asked the big question- two nights ago. You recount the story, your eyes aglow. Zayne means to listen, he really does, but he’s sure this story might actually break something in him. He times his nods appropriately as he spirals.
You’re his patient, his friend- the one he loves. Loves? Yes, he loves you, he is sure of it. Loves you so much that it eats away at him in the middle of the night. It was an innocent mistake, taking you to that gala years ago. He only thought about you being his date, not all his curious coworkers. Sure, Katie’s great.
His nod is extra forceful this time. He pushes up his glasses to hide the jealousy seeping into his gaze. Katie is an incredible doctor and person, he tells himself. He knows your life will be filled with lonely nights and cold beds, but it’s no different from what he could have given you. That is a lie, he admits, watching your face blush in joy. He would have given you everything. Is still ready to give you anything and everything.
Now that means being the first to say, “I’m very happy for you.” He’s dying, he’s sure of it. He holds his hands into tight fists, hiding inside his doctor’s coat.
You beam and your eyes search him. “You approve?” He hesitates to nod, but does it anyways. “Thank goodness. If you didn’t, I’m not sure I could go through with it.”
His heart stops. He’s sure his heart has stopped in this moment until its sound crashes in his ears. He can barely hear himself over the pounding noise. “Let me grab a new pen and we can talk about it some more, alright?”
He’s out the door before you finish nodding and is running into his office before any of the nurses or other patients can get a good look at his face. His breath is deep and heavy as he picks up the mirror on his desk. His touch leaves an imprint of frost and he grips the mirror so tightly his palms sting. He looks into his eyes and finds his glare growing sharper at the signs of distress on his face.
He snarls, “Control yourself.”
He takes one deep breath, not patient for any more and sets the mirror carefully back down. He forces his face back into the calm expression you know and returns to you.
©fincherrose original work
Hi ;)
If the idea intrests you how about lads boys with female reader who out of sudden childlike thought and lightness try to convince them to play tag in the rain just to catch a cold the same night?
Hi Jalice!! I love your prompts so much! ( ദ്ദി ˙ᗜ˙ )You can find my take on it here.
In the Rain
tags: caleb x reader, rafayel x reader, sylus x reader, xavier x reader, zayne x reader, fluff, established relationship
//cw: kissing, physical illness(cold, flu, etc), some suggestivity\\
summary: It's a perfect day to play in the rain (wc. 2.1k)
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🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄
🍎CALEB🍎
Typically, Caleb is the one to start playing in the rain, but he’s pouting since you aren’t wearing the matching scarf he gave you. You step out from your shared umbrella and he’s chasing after you to keep you dry before you can even start teasing him. He would usually have the advantage here too, but with the coffee in one hand and the umbrella in the other, he’s a little more clumsy than usual and you can successfully dodge him. But soon the umbrella is upside down collecting rain, the coffee forgotten, and the two of you are spinning around together like little kids. You can’t spin anymore and hug him, dizzy and out of breath. He sweeps you off your feet and spins a few more times. He sets you back on your feet and collects his coffee and umbrella, but his pout is long gone.
He grins, “Wanna make a run for it?” He holds his hand out to you and you grab it before running back to the apartment.
You both crash through the doors and the lobby fills with the sound of Caleb’s laughter. You tug on his arm, too out of breath from keeping up with him to make any noise. He shakes like a dog, splattering rain everywhere and you tug his arm again as you give the front desk workers an apologetic expression. Caleb’s laughter is so infectious that they just smile at you and giggle amongst themselves. You pull Caleb to the elevator and the two of you are bent halfway over the whole ride up, stumbling out, you press your finger to his lips and shush him. He just kisses the tip of your finger. He looks both ways down the hallway and scoops you up, carrying you the rest of the way into your apartment.
Full laughter rocks through you as soon as the door is shut and you squeal, “Caleb!”
He kisses where the rain drips onto your face and his grin turns rather smug before his lips meet yours. He’s cold but his mouth and tongue are warm and he’s about to kiss deeper when you rapidly pull away, almost throwing yourself from his arms if it wasn’t for his ironclad grip, and sneeze. He snorts at you and doesn’t let go.
“Did you get sick from our little walk in the rain? Seriously?”
You curse under your breath and try to shove away from him but he just settles on the couch, holding you in place on his lap.
“Caleb, I don’t want to get you sick. I’ll take some vitamin c and-”
He interrupts you with a kiss, one hand leaving your side to cradle your face. He pulls away and presses his forehead against yours. “You weren’t the only one in the rain, remember? You’re not getting rid of me over a little sniffle.”
🫧RAFAYEL🫧
One moment the two of you are enjoying a walk along the water and the next it starts to sprinkle. Rafayel is immediately moving you back towards the pier to wait out the rain, but something about it hitting the waves fascinates you.
“Cutie!” He pouts, tugging at you. “Those clothes are designer-”
You roll your eyes at him and insist, “Raf, please, just for a little? The rain feels so nice.” You give him a smile and pull him in the opposite direction of the pier.
He frowns, shaking his head and digging his heels into the sand. He’s a warm beach guy and he knows you’ve been feeling tired the last few days. “We can enjoy it better from under the pier with a nice cup of hot tea.”
Your face sparkles with mischief that makes him narrow his eyes. You reach up and flick his forehead. His mouth hangs wide open and a sort of half chuckle escapes him despite his better judgment. You giggle and use his shock to book it away from the pier. In a second, he’s chasing after you, all his lean muscle working to get to you as quickly as possible.
“Just you wait, cutie!” He warns with a devilish grin when you dodge him.
The rain is forgotten as the two of you run in circles. Finally, Rafayel catches you- rather, he leaps across at you and tackles you to the sand. But any thoughts of revenge for the forehead flick are out the window at the sound of your laughter- bright and musical. You roll onto his chest and look at him with those big eyes. He ruffles your hair and you surprise him by leaning over and kissing him shyly. You leave his lips to nuzzle your head into his chest and compared to the sand and the rain falling from above, you're so warm that he really thinks for a second that staying out there is the best idea he could possibly have. But then his hand soothes your hair and grazes your forehead and he realizes you’re not warm, you’re burning up.
At once he says your name and the sound is so serious you immediately sit up. He’s on his feet and pulling you up with him. He trudges through the sand toward his parked car. The grip of his hand makes you nervous.
“I told you it was a bad idea.” He scolds, the pouting lips back. “I can literally feel your fever setting in.”
“I’m just hot from running around!” You protest, running a little to be by his side.
You playfully swing your joined hands back and forth, jumping to kiss his cheek. He presses a scowl to his face but you see the corners of his lip twitching upward.
“Rafayel…” He ignores you so you kiss his hand. “My dearest love?”
He stops in his tracks to look over at you, his eyes gentle despite the straight look on his face. “...Yes?”
“Fever or not-” You give his hand another kiss. “Today was really fun.”
☾SYLUS☾
Since being with Sylus, rainy days have become one of your favorite things. The worse the storm, the better. The two of you can walk around the empty streets of Linkon that are usually crowded and bright with sunlight. Now the two of you stroll hand in hand, rushing from one awning to the next as rain pours down. You pause, safe beside a flower shop. You see a puddle gathering just outside of the awning’s protection and find yourself dropping Sylus’s hand and jumping right into it.
A satisfying amount of rain water splashes up your boots and onto the rest of the sidewalk. Sylus, leaning against the wall of the flower shop, looks intensely amused.
“Having fun, kitten?”
You stomp for emphasis. “Yes, yes I am.”
You continue walking out in the rain with a whistle, sometimes spinning around. Sylus doesn’t try to stop you or join you until a few minutes pass and he interrupts your fun by clearing his throat. You pause and look over at him, moving your wet hair out of your face.
He holds his hand out to you muttering, “You’re soaking wet.”
“It’s fun! You take his hand and give it a gentle tug but Sylus doesn’t budge.
He clears his throat and his eyes skirt around you in a mysterious way. “You’re see-through.”
“Hmm?”
His eyes flicker down again, then back to your face as he tries to bite back a smirk. You look down and see that you are, indeed, see-through- or rather, your drenched white top needily clings to you. Immediately, you cross your arms and leap back under the awning. Sylus chuckles, but he’s already removing his coat and covering you. You use the opportunity to give him a big hug and he sighs as his clothes dampen where you touch.
“Now we’re both wet.” Sylus complains, though you can hear the smile in his voice.
You laugh as you continue walking, hand linked with Sylus’s, but there’s a resistance that makes you pause. Sylus tugs you close before buttoning you up in his coat. He leads you by the shoulders back toward the car, keeping you on the side away from the rain.
“Let’s go home now.” When you open your mouth to protest he adds, “I want to snuggle before you catch a cold.”
There’s no resisting that.
✦XAVIER✦
When you dart into the rain, he follows because he doesn’t want to let go of your hand but you shimmy from his reach with a simple challenge, “Bet I can beat you home.”
One second you’re in the lead, running faster than rain can fall and the next you look back to see Xavier is nowhere in sight. Your suspicions are proved correct when you make it to the apartment complex and he’s waiting in the lobby. Warm and dry on the other side of the glass, he gives you a wave, face innocent as if he didn’t just cheat.
You frown and turn on your heel, walking away and knowing he’ll follow. He grabs you out of the rain, kissing you sweetly and moping with big pleading eyes.
“Why didn't you come inside?”
You cross your arms, creating space between the two of you. You pout but don't lean away from his kiss.
“You cheated.” You accuse, putting your hand on his chest to stop him from kissing you as your nose tingles. “Wait-”
You tuck your head into your elbow and sneeze. When you look up, you're glaring. “Great, I got sick.”
“Sick?” He pushes back your wet hair and holds your cold face in his hands. “How did you get sick? It's been like five minutes.”
“Cheaters wouldn't know.”
He plants tiny pecks around your face until you giggle and offers, “We can race again. No abilities, I promise.” He holds his pinky up for good measure.
“No racing.” You begin the walk back, and Xavier hovers right by you, putting his hand over your head.
He suggests, “I can carry you back? Go super fast?”
“Absolutely not.” You huff, walking faster in case he really does try to pick you up.
“I can make soup?”
“Don't even think about touching my kitchen.” You narrow your eyes at him for good measure and he swoops down to kiss your cheek. He gives you those innocent eyes again and you resist kissing him silly right then and there.
You grin and reassure, “Don't worry, I'll find a way to make up for it.”
❄ZAYNE❄
When a sudden summer rain pours from a bright blue sky, you're instantly grinning. Zayne tries his hardest to stop you, barely missing his chance to grab you and pull you back under the awning that’s serving as shelter from the rain. The few people who are also covering under the awning look at you and whisper to each other, some laughing. The rain is slightly warm but cool enough compared to the summer temperature. You spread your arms out and spin, raising your head and opening your mouth.
Zayne calls out, still reaching out from the edge of the awning but his fingers only graze you, “Air pollution is high today! Please don’t drink the rain!”
You shut your mouth and look over at him, blinking wildly. “Zayne… I’m having fun. I’m being spontaneous.” You grab hold of his hand and give it a gentle squeeze. “Have fun with me.”
He can’t resist your smile and pulls off his coat, holding it over the two of you as he steps close. He returns your smile with a shy one and whispers into your ear, “Just a few minutes, okay?”
You laugh in delight and the two of you take off, not heading anywhere but into more rain. Zayne’s having a full blown giggle attack which makes him slow enough that you don’t really have to walk beyond a leisurable pace. His coat is high quality, but he shakes so much from the laughter that it doesn’t do much to stop the rain from reaching you both. The rain stops before you do and the two of you are soaked just outside a dessert cafe.
Zayne doesn’t have time to ask before you pull him into the store. You take the jacket from him and drape it over his shoulders. You fix his hair away from his eyes.
“Grab a table, I’ll order a sampler and we can dry off here-” He takes your wrist, his thumb settling over the place your pulse beats. “Zayne? What’s wrong?”
He frowns, looking past you to the counter of sweets. He shakes his head and guides you out the door. “You’re sick. We need to go home and rest. Take a warm shower and have some hot tea.”
“Sick? I feel fine-”
“Home.” He insists, practically pulling you out the door with the bribe of his encouraging smile. “Let’s go home.”
©fincherrose original work
1k Likes Celebration!( ˊᵕˋ )♡
Hi everyone! I just hit 1k likes ( ˶°ㅁ°) !! on one of my posts, which means so much to me. Thank you all for the support!♡♡♡♡ As part of my celebration, I wanted to give YOU the choice of which college series I will post first- in completion! I usually post in alphabetical order and thought this would be a fun divergence from that.
Whose College Series will be posted first?
🍎Caleb🍎
🫧Rafayel🫧
☾Sylus☾
✦Xavier✦
❄Zayne❄
You can find the first part for Caleb, Rafayel, Sylus, Xavier, and Zayne linked to their names! I am also open for requests and would love the chance to take on all the wonderful ideas y'all have. Thank you again for the engagement!
Intrusion - ☾Sylus☾
tags: sylus x reader, established relationship, angsty
//cw: stalker, acts of stalking, kidnapping, drugging, fear, anxiety, violence, threats of death\\
summary: Your old friend just moved to Linkon, but things are a little strange(wc. 1.9k)
a/n: I lowkey hate my writing for this... didn't plan on it being so intense but here we are. ( ;´ - `;) So sorry about that, hopefully it's not too bad ( • ᴖ • ｡) Might have to write a recovery second part... we'll see
If you or a loved one experience stalking or harassment of any kind, please reach out to local law enforcement or local safety authority. Confronting stalkers is never a good idea, no matter how controlled the environment.
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🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄
☾SYLUS☾
Sylus drives up to the cafe, pressing the button to warm your seat as he texts you that he’s here. He can see the back of your head in the window, pulling on your beanie. The friend you’re with chats excitedly. Sylus sees you gesture back to the door and her eyes slide over to his car. He knows she can’t see him behind the tinted windows, but feels a twist of nerves. He’s never really met any of your friends, you insist because they’re all back home or coworkers that would certainly notice who he is. But here one is, walking you out the cafe with her arm hooked into yours.
He can hear your laughter and can’t help the smile. When you close in, he reaches over and pushes open the door. You slip into your seat but leave the door open with your body facing your friend.
“Jeanine, this is my partner Sylus. Sylus, this is the friend I was telling you about.” Jeanine leans down and gives Sylus a wave. He nods his head back, glancing to you. You move to whisper in his ear. “She needs a ride…”
He turns his attention to Jeanine and offers, “It’s awfully cold outside, would you like a ride home?”
Jeanine shakes her head, but you interject before she can deny the offer, “C’mon, it’ll be too cold when the sun goes down. Linkon is bigger than it seems.”
“Well… alright.” She goes into the back and Sylus changes the heat to go around the whole car.
He waits for the two of you to buckle up before driving off and asking, “Where did you move to, Jeanine?”
You giggle and look back at Jeanine, wiggling your eyebrows. She quietly answers, “I’m actually in the same apartment complex.”
You turn to Sylus with a grin, reaching out to hold his hand on the middle consul. “Isn’t that so fun? We used to live right across the street from each other and now here we are, together in Linkon!”
The three of you chat as Sylus drives to your apartment. As soon as he pulls up, Jeanine is out of the car with a quiet thank you. Sylus waits and watches her struggle with the door. He turns to you and leans over to kiss your cheek.
“I think you should help her, kitten.” He jerks his chin towards her, frowning as it starts to sprinkle outside. “I’ll take a loop around the parking structure.”
You give him the kind of smile that makes him grin and nod, running off to help Jeanine. He waits until the two of you are inside before he starts his lap around the parking lot. His bluetooth picks up a phone call and he’s surprised to see your number. He answers immediately.
You start gushing, “Sylus, I’m really sorry. Do you think I can take some time and help Jeanine unpack a little? I just want to help her set up her bed so she doesn’t have to sleep on the floor.”
He agrees immediately. “Of course, that’s okay. Take however long you need, or I can come back tomorrow. I’m just glad I got to see you today-” There’s a clatter on the other end of the phone and you say something he can’t hear. “Everything okay, kitten?”
“Crap, sorry, Sylus. I’ll text you! I love you, bye.” You hang up before he can reply and he sighs, parking and taking out his phone.
He texts, “I love you, too.” Before he can start driving home, his phone chimes. A text from you.
He laughs at himself, the spark of excitement that courses through his body as he opens your message. “Wait in my apartment, we can watch a movie when I’m done.”
He whistles on his way up to your apartment, greeting the front desk workers with a nod as they wave. He’s over more than he cares to admit, especially since he offered that you move into his place. But being over to fix your things or wait for your makes him happy. He didn’t stop smiling for days after you added his fingerprint to the door lock.
The sun hasn’t entirely gone down yet, the last of its rays casting your living room in a low glow. He sinks into the couch, suddenly able to feel how tired he is now that he’s comfortable. Before he knows it, he’s sleeping.
He wakes with a jolt, your apartment pitch black. He groans, running a hand through his hair and pulling out his phone to check the time. 2am. He squints toward your door and whispers your name. You must have left him to sleep and gone to bed yourself.
He walks over to your room, peeking his head into the doorway. He’s frozen looking at your empty bed. He checks his phone again, no word from you. You must’ve fallen asleep accidentally at Jeanine’s. He pictures you somewhere in the apartment complex, snoring fitfully. He busies himself putting away the clean dishes and doing a load of laundry. Before he knows it, dawn is slipping through the windows and you still aren’t home. He knows you struggle sleeping soundly in new places, but wonders if being with an old friend has helped somehow. He resists texting you for a while, not wanting to appear too needy or pushy, but his concern wins.
“Everything alright?”
The sun continues rising, but there’s no response. Growing nervous in your apartment by himself, he heads out to talk a walk before it gets too bright outside. He’s mid stride in the lobby when he bumps into one of the front desk workers. It’s a young guy, maybe even a teenager, whose uniform is too baggy. His name tag reads Pierre.
“Hey, sorry, man, you’re dating 302 right? Or like…” Pierre fidgets, then rubs the back of his neck. He won’t meet your eyes.
302 is your apartment number. Sylus steps back and looks the young worker up and down. “That’s corect, why?”
One of the older workers runs over and tugs on Pierre’s arm, hissing under her breath, "Mind your business.”
Pierre purses his lips before admitting to Sylus, “I saw them in the hallway late at night and they didn’t look well. They were with one of the new tenants, but I don’t know, it felt weird-”
“Pierre!” The older worker scolds. “I’m sorry sir, he’s new to the job and-”
Sylus's voice is cold, “What floor were they on?”
“I'm sorry, sir, that's private-”
“415.” Pierre answers immediately and Sylus is gone before the woman can say anything to stop him.
His heart is racing, you were fine when he last saw you and you stick to him like glue when you don’t feel well. He finds 415 and paces back and forth outside the door. This is your friend. You’re an adult. You are more than capable of taking care of yourself. He sighs and pauses, debating how crazy knocking on Jeanine’s door is going to seem. He knocks anyway, just to feel better. The door opens and Jeanine gets one glimpse of him before shutting the door.
Sylus is buffering for a second before knocking again. “Jeanine? Remember me from last night?” He clears his throat and tries to force a friendly smile. “I only wanted to see if everything is going alright.”
There’s ruckus on the other side of the door and Sylus’s stomach is quickly sinking. He knocks again. Then he hears a small sound, nothing more than a whisper through the door. But he’s certain the noise came from you. Dark red smoke surrounds the door lock, yet Sylus can’t bring himself to use his evol just yet. He knocks again.
“Jeanine?” He calls out, waiting for a few seconds before warning, “I will get this door open.”
When there’s no response, Sylus glitches the lock and swings the door open. Jeanine’s apartment carries a strange darkness, the type that comes from cheap black out curtains. It smells stuffy too. The hallway is lined with stacks of boxes. He pauses in the doorway, looking into an open box. Sitting on top of everything is a photo of you and Jeanine, but the photo sits awkwardly in the frame. He touches it and the picture slides down, something itchy meeting his fingertips. It’s a cut lock of your hair. His hand jolts from the box and he storms into the living room.
The apartment is bigger than yours, four doors instead of two. The living room is a mess, boxes tipped over and items strewn about. He calls out your name and his ears strain to capture any response. There’s a quiet scratching sound and he follows it to one of the doors, opening it and squinting at the light that pours out. Before his eyes adjust, something runs into him. He’s tense for a fraction of a second, ready to fight, but he feels that it’s you. His arms wrap around you and you’re leaning too heavily onto him. Something’s wrong. He drags you from the room and shuts the door so that he can see you properly.
You’re pale and sweaty, yet cool to the touch, and you stagger when you take a step closer to him. His arms constrict tighter, hold you upright against him. He can’t control the expression that plants itself onto him and when you see it, your hands grab his face.
“She didn’t mean to.” You’re panting and the sound of your voice so weak doesn’t just break his heart, it infuriates him. “She needs help. That’s all, she wasn’t thinking straight.”
Sylus is carrying you to the door and can’t stop himself from asking, “Did she drug you?”
You both know what the answer will do to him but your silence says enough. He’s about to put you in the hallway, shut the door, and show Jeanine just how cruel consequences can become when he feels a slight shudder through the floor. He holds you with one hand and with the other, immediately knocks Jeanine back. He almost laughs at her. How could she possibly sneak up on him?
“Sylus…” Comes your gentle warning, Jeanine stumbling back to her feet.
He hates the way her eyes look straight to you. She mumbles to herself, “We’re going home.” For the first time, she looks at Sylus and he knows the look in her eyes. They slide back to you, pleading. “You don’t need him.” She holds out her hand and in that moment, Sylus knows she’s afraid of him.
She won’t follow. He takes you out of her apartment, his tense as you tremble against him. Are you scared of him too, now? But you press your head into him.
“I’m sorry.” Your voice is strange and you continue before he can say anything. “She- she’s my friend. She didn’t mean to.”
He wants to kill her for making you like this. He wants to carry you back home, far from this whole mess. He wants you safe.
Instead, he brushes away your tears. “Please don’t apologize-”
A large group of patrol officers run out of the elevator. Sylus holds you closer, smoothing your hair away from your face.
“I called them. As soon as she left, I called them.” You nuzzle past his hands and into his chest, but your body shakes from the crying. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
“I’m so proud of you.” He kisses the top of your head and rubs your back as the officers run past and into the apartment. “I got you, it’s okay.”
His heart is tearing in two when the ems officer appears. You won’t let go of him despite the officer’s reassuring. Sylus lays you onto the stretcher, his hand holding yours all the way to the hospital.
©fincherrose original work
¡BF! Sylus ^ↀᴥↀ^ฅ🎁
tags: sylus x reader, fluff, established relationship, ¿a little angsty?
//cw: violence mentioned, death threats mentioned\\
summary: Sylus boyfriend headcannons(wc. 1k)
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🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄
☾SYLUS☾
You thought kitten was embarrassing albeit charming. Wait until the other ones show up. Honey cake, baby bear, and sugar wuger were lurking in the background. You swear the names get more embarrassing by the week.
It would be an understatement to say that gift giving is one of his love languages. He figures he has all the money in the world, why not spend it on something that matters? It’s a little bump to get over, a little awkward patch until you realize it genuinely is his live language and the money has no where else to go. So you make sure instead of buying you ten designer shirts that he keeps the house comfortably furnished, gives plenty to your favorite charities, and buys himself nice things too. It teaches you to be more communicative about your wants, so after you get used to it, you find it rather enjoyable.
It’s not that he suddenly starts acting goofy or anything but something in him softens the longer he’s with you. Like a feral street cat laying in your lap and letting you pet it after a lot of patient work. You swear sometimes he purrs, a deep satisfying rumble from within.
You don’t consider him a jealous or possessive person, in fact his faith in you and love for you confounds you. He is, however, extremely protective. Someone looks at you the wrong way and snickers your name and he’s out to get them as if they’ve done something unspeakable. You’ve talked him down from murder on more occasions than you’d like to admit and that’s just when you’ve caught him. He won’t negotiate any lower than breaking fingers. It’s something you’ve made peace with, especially since the incidents happen less often after word got out.
He’s basically the world’s best listener. You could be talking about your trip to the cafe or something incredibly serious and personal. He listens and remembers, adjusts to the information. His memory is faultless.
Though he claims he doesn’t, this man loves to be what he calls “babied”. You call it love and care. He is incredibly resistant to it at first, saying you shouldn’t bother. But he melts when you make his favorite meal or iron his shirt or dry his hair for him.
If you aren’t physically with him for a few hours, you will be getting a random call. He pretends he’s not checking in but it’s pretty obvious that he doesn’t actually need help with a leak in the kitchen sink. He also likes calling you while he’s working on his motorcycle, cars, or guns. Even if it's just to hear you say “not now, my dear”.
He insists on good night and good morning kisses as well as middle of the night and middle of the day kisses.
He won’t say anything about it, but when he sees you laughing with Luke and Kieran, not a single blood splatter in sight, something settles in his heart. It’s the same feeling he gets when you set the table together or when you try to catch popcorn in your mouth.
He’s especially kind to stray cats and dogs. He always has clean water bowls on the property and tries to lay out healthy food for them. If he can get one and they’re old enough, he’ll have them spayed or neutered and vaccinated. You swear he’s practically got a cat colony, most of which are completely feral but don’t run when he comes their way.
He’s kinda nuts about vitamins and herbal remedies. Yes, he trusts science and medicine, but also has a firm belief that these things worked for centuries and will continue to work.
Yes, he does have names for his guns. And the fridge. And the mugs that he collects. In fact, you’re pretty sure he names everything. Even his shoes.
You know those couple’s yoga challenges? He’s so excited about it. Board games? As long as he’s on your side playing against the twins. He loves games and challenges, loves seeing how competitive you get, and above all loves being on your team.
He tears up at romantic movies, sometimes commercials if they’re emotional enough. He always keeps the softest tissues in the house for this reason. Also because he has a nasty pollen allergy.
Having a toothbrush at your place was a huge step for him. But then he went all out, getting matching toothbrushes, container, and brush covers.
He has steadily become invested in the throw pillow decorating. He didn't really care at first, but then you started changing them for holidays and seasons, then started collecting very strange ones. He spends forever in the pillow section of the store, looking through each one until he finds the most bizarre pillow.
He's more shy than you thought and he tries to hide it. Luckily, he’s also very easily encouraged.
He loves to pack you lunches. He goes hardcore with the meal prep and does it fancy bento style. Your coworkers are increasingly jealous. Sometimes he’ll leave a note, not with a lot of writing or anything. An S and a heart is all you need.
Sometimes he gets down and will never really tell you why. With some extra cuddling and handholding he’s back to his usual spirits in no time.
He has the best throw blankets in the world. They’re so soft and they stay so soft even though you know he washes them regularly. They practically trap you to the couch. When it’s cold, Sylus keeps some on the bed to curl into.
He is meticulous about shining his shoes. He uses special products, not special as in expensive, but special as in old. If you aren’t guarding them, he comes after your shoes too. Something about cleaning and shining them excites him. Similar to cleaning his guns perhaps.
When you’re feeling especially tired, he reads your book aloud to you. He says you shouldn’t have to lift a finger and reads until you fall asleep.
©fincherrose original work
⋆｡°✩🎃✩°｡⋆Kinktober Bulletin⋆｡°✩🎃✩°｡⋆ MDNI 18+
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Here's my plan for Kinktober! All Kinktober content will be linked here and all writing linked here will be 18+. Each week has a theme, posts will be made 5x a week with each post containing its own cws. I will still be posting fluff and requests the other two days of the week. This is my first time doing Kinktober so I'm excited and nervous.
( ꈍ◡ꈍ) Hope you enjoy!
Small note: I write all guys as both subs and doms, the role just depends on the post and will be revealed in the tags section at the top of the post.
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🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄
October 1st - 5th Clothing
Caleb - uniform x marks
Rafayel - lingerie x quiet
Sylus - high protocol x getting dressed
Xavier - possessive x subtop/dombottom
Zayne - his clothes x queening
October 6th - 10th Senses
Caleb - Hearing
Rafayel - Sight
Sylus - Touch
Xavier - Taste
Zayne - Smell
October 13th - 17th Eyes on Me
Caleb - choking x size difference
Rafayel - lotus x pacing
Sylus - reach around x sounding
Xavier - hair pulling x wall sex
Zayne - doggy style x mirror sex
October 20th - 24th Messy
Caleb - masturbation x clothes on
Rafayel - facial x titfuck
Sylus - multiple orgasm x squirting
Xavier - remote control x spitroasting
Zayne - free use x massage oil
October 27th - 31st Punishment
Caleb - service x dry humping
Rafayel - bondage x double penetration
Sylus - breath play x nipple clamps
Xavier - cockwarming x edging
Zayne - no hands x CEI
©fincherrose original work
Lads boys when reader and offspring throw a fit at the supermarket they need something useless ?
Hehehe, thank you for the prompt! You can find my spin on it here.
Supermarket Shakedown
tags: caleb x reader, rafayel x reader, sylus x reader, xavier x reader, zayne x reader, fluff, established relationship
//cw: fussy baby/child, singing in public\\
summary: how the LADS guys act when your child(ren) get fussy at the market (wc. 1.6k)
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🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄🍎🫧☾✦ ❄
🍎CALEB🍎
Usually, you and Caleb were a united front when it came to Baby Xia, especially the first year. But then, Caleb noticed immediately, Calan would ask for something and you’d be right there with whatever he desired before Caleb could get in a single word. Now Calan is pointing up at a ridiculously big teddy bear and babbling, “Mine. Mine.”
Caleb goes to pick him up, muttering, “I don’t think so-”
And there you are, grabbing the bear and giving it to him. He can’t even wrap his arms around it, disappearing in the cart behind the huge stuffed bear. You laugh and poke the bear’s nose. Calan’s little hand shoots out and points at a purple dinosaur. Before Caleb can interject, you’re reaching up for the toy. Caleb reaches out and puts a grounding hand on your shoulder.
“Pips,” he whispers with a gentle smile as if entering a hostage situation. “I think he’s got enough toys.”
You bat your eyes at him, a soft complaint leaving your lips, “But he’s so cute.”
Caleb looks back to your son, who is indeed, very cute even if hidden by a teddy bear. “Yes, yes he is.” Calan’s babbling is growing louder. “He also has toys at home.”
You watch Caleb put the teddy bear back. Calan starts fussing. Caleb scoops him into his arms before he grows too loud and blows a raspberry into his stomach. Calan giggles and you find a smile growing on your face.
“Why don’t we go home and build a plane?” Caleb sings to his son, kissing his cheeks before singing again, “Build a plane. Build a plane.”
🫧RAFAYEL🫧
Estrella shrieks in the cereal aisle of the supermarket, one hand twisted into Marella’s hair and the other slamming a box of corn flakes into the ground. You step in cautious circles around them, fretting over your shoulder at the stares the scene has drawn. Rafayel peeks over from the next aisle and rushes over.
He kneels by the two on the floor and scolds gently while making quick work of Marella’s tangled hair. “Estrella, that’s not safe.” Untangled, you take Marella and rub her back with soothing noises as Estrella continues to scream, her face turning red. “Tell daddy what’s wrong, hm?”
She takes in ragged breaths, her eyes darting around the aisle as she lets loose a long and loud, “I’m hungry!” She smashes the box down again and Rafayel takes her little hand in his.
“You’re hungry? Oh, poor darling.” She sniffles at that and stretches her arms out and Rafayel scoops her up.
You’re already going through your purse with one hand and pull out the kid’s granola bar you always keep handy. You give it to Rafayel, who unwraps it skillfully and breaks it in half. He gives the other half to you while he watches Estrella eat. You offer the half to Marella and she takes it quietly, her whole face scrunched up in a pout. You kiss her sweaty forehead and her face soothes itself.
“Estie wanted to eat the box.” She explains quietly. “I said no.”
“Thank you for looking after your sister.” You kiss her forehead again, keeping watch of Rafayel distracting Estrella in the corner of your eye. “Does your head hurt?”
She shakes her head and leans against you. Estrella reaches out and tugs on her shirt, but Marella moves away.
Estrella whispers, “Sorry.”
Rafayel meets your eyes over their heads and mouths, ‘You okay?”
You nod and put the crumpled cereal box in the cart, the scene already forgotten by the other shoppers. When you push the cart, Rafayel puts his hand on top of yours and gives it a squeeze.
☾SYLUS☾
Sylus told you not to do it, but there you were at the crowded supermarket on a Friday without him and with the twins. You just wanted some sour cream. Now you pace a little lap back and forth in the long check out line, needing desperately to pee. The movement, along with the bright lights and constant noise is nowhere close to the ideal environment for two babies half a year old.
You look to the wide glass doors that are so close yet so far, catching Mephisto hopping around and eyeing you. He followed you to the store, so you know Sylus knows even if he is in an important meeting. You silently curse when Rory starts fussing. He’s always the first. A few people in line are already scowling at you as if the twins are already hollering. You bounce slightly and whisper soothing nothings at them, patting their backs through the twin sling you insisted on wearing despite how ridiculous it looked and how heavy they were now. You take out your phone and shoot Sylus a text. Need you.
It was his first meeting since the twins were born and you insisted he went and now you’re calling him back. The guilt of it, along with the staring eyes, has you turning red. Now both the babes are fussing and Carmine’s eyes flash wide open. Before you can do any additional soothing, she lets out a long cry and Rory quickly follows. The man behind you lets out a long sigh and clicks his tongue as if scolding you. The sound suddenly cuts off and the man coughs what sounds like an apology.
You turn around mid bounce and see Sylus smiling at you in a way the reeks of I told you so. Luke and Kieran pop out from behind him with shy waves. Sylus is already unwrapping the sling and taking the babies. You feel all at once sore and relieved and dammit, you really have to pee.
Sylus calmly whispers, “I’ll be in the car with the babies, the twins can handle purchasing sour cream.”
Like that you’re off to the bathroom. By the time you step outside, Sylus has already pulled the car around and is playing the classical music that puts your children straight to sleep. The twins, stuffed in the third row, sing along to the orchestra. You hop in the front seat, happy to be heading home.
✦XAVIER✦
Aurora isn’t one for throwing fits, she takes after her father and his silence, sometimes so quiet that it worries you. That isn’t the case today in the ice cream aisle. She’s firmly planted herself by the door keeping her favorite flavor and screams each time you touch her.
You keep your voice gentle but firm, “Aurora, there’s popsicles at home. We don’t need ice cream right now.” You move to put a delicate hand on her shoulder and she thrashes back with a yelp as if you’ve burned her.
You look around, scared someone is going to think the worst. Xavier disappeared a few minutes before the tantrum started to hunt down the perfectly ripe watermelon at the other side of the store. The few people that have passed since then whispered and stared. You take a deep breath in effort to calm your nerves.
“I know you want the ice cream, sweetheart, but-”
“No!” She jerks away, the back of her head hitting the door in a way that makes you flinch and causes her to pause.
“Sweetie?” That had to hurt. “You okay?”
Her bottom lip trembles but she holds steady with her demands. “Ice cream!”
“Aurora.” Xavier’s voice isn’t loud, but is very stern. Both of you look over as he walks down the aisle, watermelon tucked under his arm.
He sets it in the cart before crouching down to eye level. “You can’t have the ice cream today.” She looks away from him but remains silent. “Baba will put a special date on the calendar to take you out for ice cream this weekend only if you behave.”
She kicks at the ground and pouts, then slowly looks over to you. You drum on the watermelon and the sound makes her smile, though she tries to hide it. You hold out your hand and she takes it shyly. Xavier sighs and straightens, poking her nose.
“You know better.” He scolds, then sighs again when she buries herself in your legs. “Don’t pretend otherwise.”
She reaches past you and through the bars of the cart to give the watermelon a pat. The sound echoes out and she laughs quietly, the ice cream forgotten.
❄ZAYNE❄
Zayne has attended every parenting class he could, in person, online, or just a video of an older woman sharing her tips to swear by. He considered himself well prepared for any and everything. Theoretically, he is perfectly prepared to handle anything twin boys could throw at him. The reality is a different story.
“Zayne.” Your voice, blocked by the crying, snaps him back into focus. You’re shaking a plastic container of peanuts at Levi, who claps his hands with each rattle. “Focus.”
He tries, Ezra’s crying loud and his nose runny. His eyes are bulging from the stress of it and Zayne is calculating the odds that something seriously wrong is going to happen. He gives him raspberry kisses and raises him up high in the air- two of his favorite things- but neither works. Zayne feels sweat gathering along his brow. He checks Ezra’s diaper, all clear. He puts a binkie to Ezra’s lips, no go. He knows you’re looking, knows exactly what’s left on the list to calm Ezra down.
He clears his throat and sings quietly, “Hush little baby…” You give him a nod of encouragement and his face turns red. “Don’t say a word, Papa’s gonna buy you mockingbird.”
Ezra quiets, his wide eyes focused on Zayne, who continues singing. “If that mockingbird won’t sing, Papa’s gonna buy you a…” He looks to you with wide eyes.
You push the cart closer and link your arm around his, shaking the peanuts in time. “A diamond ring.”
“And…” You join Zayne in singing, “If that ring turns brass, Papa’s gonna buy you a…”
You look at each other, Ezra waiting expectantly. You whisper, “What comes next?”
©fincherrose original work