【 twenty-one 】 him / she { mex-am } 《 taking an art break 》 if i dont respond its bc i get shy, i see u + ily :3 〔 multifandom + multishipper 〕 「 ageless blogs/blank acc dni thx!! 」
Imagine if, after your routine check up, Zayne scolds you for your eating habits and urges you to add more greens to your diet. Life as a hunter can get hectic sometimes so it's a lot easier to grab a quick protein bar than to cook a well balanced meal, but you want to at least try! So that's how Zayne finds you in the kitchen after his shift, staring at a bag of kale with a determined look on your face. How cute, he smiles to himself. You're listening to his advice and he couldn't be more proud.
"My love? What are you doing?"
"Zaynie, welcome home!"
"Cooking dinner?"
"Nope! But it's dinosaur time!"
"Pardon?"
He gets his answer from you unsealing the bag and immediately shoving a fistful of leafy greens to your mouth. For a moment, he's frozen still, watching the love of his life "dinosaur-ing" it in their kitchen. You catch his face in the corner of your eye and start laughing at his expression, before promptly eating shit when your laughter turns into coughing, then choking on your vegetables.
Zayne immediately bans dinosaur time after tonight.
Xavier's worried about you as you suffer from a mere cold. While you know you're going to be okay, why doesn't he seem to be convinced?
988 words. sickfic, fluff, light angst, references to xavier's lore & how often he's had to endure the loss of his beloved, f!reader, cross-posted on ao3
a/n: Two fics in one day (the other one being a Caleb fic called 'Aviation's Curse')! Both are fluffy with a tinge of angst hehehe :DD
dividers by @uzmacchiato
“Starlight, can I get you anything else?”
It is the third time Xavier has asked you this question, and it is the third time you respond with, “No.” Even though you are in the comfort of his blankets, there’s a sense of concern you feel as you see him panic. It’s only a cold, you tell yourself. It’s not like you’re dying.
But he’s acting like you are.
“Xav,” you take his hand before he can run off to grab yet another ice pack for your head. The others have yet to melt, and you feel quite like an igloo. “I’m okay. Thank you.”
“Are you sure?” he asks, and as bad as it is when you already have a fever, the way his eyes soften warms your heart. His hand squeezes yours, the movement laced with lifetimes of concern. “I-I can make you a smoothie, my dear, if you’d like.”
“I think you’re the one who wants a smoothie.”
His face reddens at the accusation, yet he offers no defense. He only offers the smoothie you have already denied wanting, and you repeat the same answer.
“Okay. Just let me know if you want anything else, okay?”
But he doesn’t leave. Xavier sits on a tiny speck of space on his bed and just observes you. You’re a shivering mess and are running through the tissue boxes too quickly for him to catch up, but he simply watches every move you make.
You only give him a couple seconds before you beckon him to come closer. “Is there anything on my face? Besides snot, of course.”
He doesn’t answer, doesn’t give any indication that he’s even heard you.
“Xavi?”
His name is followed by a stream of coughs, which finally catches his attention. He stands up to take the glass of water sitting on his your nightstand, helping you drink the liquid before another fit of coughs overwhelmed you. The water sloshes when your hands are too shaky to hold them, but through the rim you can see the blues of his eyes color the glass. You can see the worry etched into them.
“It’s just a cold,” you reassure him after you’ve taken a sip.
But he seems to be terrified nonetheless. His hands, while more stable than yours, seem to shake as the thought of something permeates those eyes of his.
“I’ll be okay,” you say once more, hoping he can believe you this time.
When the stars appear outside of his bedroom window, Xavier takes it upon himself to admire it with you.
The shivers are gone, replaced by the warmth of his body as he lays down in the little space left on his bed. You tell him to stay back so he doesn’t catch the illness that plagues you, but he insists on keeping you in his arms. You feel more real this way, he said, and you don’t know what he means by that.
“The moon is pretty, isn’t it?” he comments.
You squint, but you don’t see it at all. “Where’s the moon?”
For a moment, you sit in the confusion fostered by his lack of an answer, but then you realize what he means by the sentiment and you roll your eyes. “I love you too, Xavier.”
Even in the darkness, you can see just how beautiful his smile is.
A fit of coughs escapes your lips, and Xavier immediately shifts. His arm is around you, and the other reaches for your water bottle so you can drink from it. He repeats the words, I’m here. Please stay as he does so, like he’s sending a prayer to the stars about your cold.
“I’m-” you cough, “I’m okay, Xav. It’s just a cold.”
“But the pain isn’t bad, right?” he says. No, pleads, like the thought of you in pain kills him. “It doesn’t… it won’t kill you?”
It just might, you almost tease, especially since the shivers and the constant blowing of your nose to get the never-ending mucus out are starting to wear you out. But you see the seriousness in his gaze, the potential death that’s playing out in his mind, and every teasing sentiment disappears from your thoughts entirely.
“It won’t kill me,” you tell him. “You’ve had colds before, my love. It hasn’t killed you once.”
“Yes, but…” he sighs, relenting to the point you’ve made. He pulls you closer to him, holding onto the heat of your skin and the multiple soaked towels he wrapped around you hours before. The sky is nice in his arms even as your head thrums and your arms bury themselves in the blanket.
Although your ears are a little muffled by your cold, Xavier’s words linger like a heated kiss.
“I don’t want to lose you again.”
At first, all you want to do is laugh. To giggle at the prospect of him losing you to a mere cold. Tomorrow these coughs and snot and shivers will lessen — maybe even disappear completely — and you will turn back to the woman who lives everyday with a newfound sense of gratitude that you do not have a cold anymore.
But then you hear the words again. The fear in them, the bargaining he seems to have made to the stars of this same plea. You feel the way his hold on you tightens like he’s only realized that you’re here. You may not be well, but you are alive.
“I’m here,” you murmur as best as you can amidst some sniffles. “I’ll be okay.”
“Promise me that,” he pleads, but he pleads to you and not the stars this time. You can give him a clearer answer.
And you do so by snuggling in his hold, watching the stars alongside him and breathing as best as you can. Every breath that escapes your lips is salvation for your beloved, who is unfairly used to hearing the last of them.
a/n: I wrote this fic because not only am I actually sick (it's been a week now God when will this stop), but also because I was inspired by Xavier's lore. I can imagine the fear of losing his beloved sticking to him with how many times he's witnessed it. My babyyy
Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are so, so appreciated, but if you leave a comment and/or tags detailing your thoughts on this fic, you'll have a special place in my heart <3
you wake up because something feels… wrong. cold. suspiciously cold. your eyes flutter open, and it takes approximately two seconds to realise the problem. the blanket is completely gone, stolen by the hunk of a man sleeping beside you.
you turn your head slowly. there he is. sylus, your beloved husband. completely at peace, fast asleep, breathing steady, one arm tucked under his head and the entire blanket wrapped around him like he fought for it in battle and won.
you stare.
“…you’re joking.”
no response. of course not. you try to tug the blanket back but nothing moves. you pull harder and still nothing.
“…sylus.”
a small shift. barely any progress... you narrow your eyes, gathering strength, and yank it, successfully moving it a few centimetres towards yourself. you sit up now, fully offended.
before you can even argue, his arm reaches out, catching your wrist and pulling you back down against him in one smooth motion.
warm. annoyingly warm.
his body heat immediately seeps into you as he shifts slightly, the blanket finally... finally, falling over both of you. you huff, glancing up. He’s still knocked out in deep sleep.
you stare at him for a second longer… then sigh, melting into him anyway.
“…thief.”
his hold tightens just slightly and this time, you’re warm enough to fall back asleep.
I really think that Zayne absolutely knows how to reassure a person and that could melt anyone's heart.
❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀
Zayne who always gives you a soft smile whenever you share your worries about being too demanding with him. He always tells you it's ok, but when that doesn't ease your mind he knows he's gotta explain himself.
He is direct in his usual day to day conversations, and with this situation is not different, he'll reassure you by telling you how he is happy to share every moment he has with you, saying "Love, is bold of you to assume I would be resting if you weren't here, I'd probably be working from home or doing extra work at the hospital. You make me rest when I'm tired and you give me energy when I'm feeling down"
Ooof that totally hits your heart and as you blush you can help but smile at him while you drag him around every food truck at the park.
However, he can be subtle if he wants to, especially when instead of voicing your thoughts you go full silent mode, doubting yourself about whether he is doing things because he wants or because you are the one who suggested it. That's when instead of asking what you want he takes the initiative and makes the decision himself, now he is the one carrying you from one dessert shop to the other. Occasionally stopping to sit in the grass and admire the tranquility of the birds and trees singing in the wind.
At night he keeps murmuring words of reassurance in your soft hair, he tells you how happy you made him, how he expects his next day off so you can spend it together.
"I have always been honest with my actions; every decision I make, every choice I make, I do it with the certainty that it is the right thing to do. And when I choose you, I do it knowing it's the best for me"
How could this man say something like that on a normal day? You don't know, but the way he warms your soul to the bone makes you not question it.
"So don't worry your pretty head with what you think I may be thinking or feeling, I'd rather be in your mind for more happy reasons..." He continues with that soft voice that never fails in setting your heart at ease "And if you still have doubts, you can always ask me"
You almost don't hear him when you bury your face in his chest, hugging him in silence cause you can't bring yourself to come up with something, words insufficient to express how he always makes you feel secure.
Cause that's Zayne to you, he is your safety pin of a person, not because you asked or forced him, but because he wants to. He chose it that way, and is not planning on changing it soon.
❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀
a/n: Inspired by that Secret kiss monologue because AAAA it heals the part of me that thinks loving me is hard and transactional.
summary: gen. ai sucks. luckily, having an artistic boyfriend comes in clutch.
tags: established relationship, fluff, relatively canon compliant, anti-ai, text messages, banter, short one shot, rafayel being the best artist bf ever basically
pairing: rafayel/mc (reader) ※ you/yours, no physical descriptors used. mentions of “cutie” nickname
wc: 1.0k | check ao3 for a more immersive reading style! (coding… shivers…) | dividers (cafekitsune)
a/n: the downfall of sora is great (ai, not the kingdom hearts guy. missing him tons) throw tomatoes at gen. ai!
Scrolling through your Moments feed, you can’t help but frown. Another post of AI-generated content has the misfortune of getting mixed in with your algorithm. And to think you were about to share it with Rafayel only creases your brow further.
No matter how much you block or mute what you find, its usage grows more frequent by other users as easily as seconds fall into minutes. Quite frankly, it’s alarming how the line between genuine and fake posts blur together at times. Let alone being distasteful at the least and frustrating most—especially, when this form of artificial intelligence usurps the efforts of real people and their art.
You really can’t wrap your head around how anyone could consume it in good faith. It’s a no-go in your books. But before the annoyance fully settles in to ruin the rest of your free time, a familiar name pops onto your screen.
rafayel: [Artsy Birb: Knock Knock]
rafayel: heeey cutie whatcha doin
you: Funny thing, you just crossed my mind.
you: Are you free right now?
rafayel: ohoho
rafayel: i was about to die from boredom
rafayel: pls save me with your presence
rafayel: i even tidied up the studio i pinky promise you wont trip over another paintbrush this time
you: Oh! That’s great.
you: But I actually have a little request if you’ll hear me out…
rafayel: yes anything for you
you: Can you draw a little fish wearing a cowboy hat? Pretty pleaseee?
rafayel: huh
The bubbles on his end pause. And for a moment, you’re worried that the idea could backfire somehow. You’re two words into putting a pin on the conversation when he replies.
rafayel: thats it???
rafayel: i mean like yeah ill do it bc you asked so nicely
rafayel: but like what for this is kinda sudden
you: Because the one I saw on moments was cute… until I found out it was AI :(
rafayel: yeeeuck what a disgrace smh
you: Plus you’re such a wonderful, talented and handsome fishie who could make my dreams come true today… (ㅅ´ ˘ `)?
rafayel: awwwe shucks
rafayel: youre absolutely right
rafayel: dun worry i got this gimme like a min
No sooner, a new message with an image attached comes your way. On what seems to be the corner of his sketchbook is a replica of Reddie—the little guy that brought you together over two years ago, and the very same flammula fish that Rafayel keeps at his place. Just as you’ve envisioned, there’s a small cowboy hat balanced on his little head, and a fin jutted out as if to say ‘hello.’ An equally small heart-shaped bubble rests next to his lips. Below them are the initials of his name and the present date in a neatly printed signature.
you: Omg
you: That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen! You’re the best Rafayelgpt ♡
rafayel: first of all
rafayel: (buzzer noise) incorrect i should obviously be your number one not him
rafayel: also lowkey thats not a bad nickname lmao only for you and me tho
you: [Artsy Birb: Genius]
you: As an extra thanks, I’ll come over to your place and we can catch up on that show from the other day.
you: Give me ten minutes to get there? I can stop by the convenience store too if you need anything.
rafayel: yippeee hurry hurry
rafayel: things are good over yonder the only thing thats missing is you cutieee
Pushing past the gates of Mo Art, the faint saltiness of the nearby sea passes under your nose. Several footsteps away, Rafayel’s already at the door; hip to the doorframe and arms crossed, the smile on his face grows when your eyes lock onto each other. The warmth of the sun overhead is nothing compared to what his embrace holds—one that you quickly run towards and he accepts without hesitation.
There’s a small laugh in his voice as he takes you in, and Rafayel’s nose presses against your temple. “If I knew making you little doodles would bring you home this fast, I would’ve done it sooner.”
You pull back, head tilted in intrigue. “So you’re saying I can ask you for even more masterpieces?”
“Masterpiece, huh?” He gives your lips a quick peck. “Sure thing. Whatever keeps the AI away and you happy, then I don’t mind.”
“Did you drink a glass of water before sending it to me?” you tease. “That fishie came awfully fast now that I think about it.”
"Two glasses, thank you very much,” he clarifies. “Staying hydrated is important, you know.”
You press his cheeks together with one hand, giving them a light shake. “I do, actually.”
“Mm, but it’s actually pretty nice though,” he says through the partial squish. “Something to keep my mind off of work.”
At the mention, you can’t help but peer over his shoulder. From a brief glance, his living room floor really is brush-less and ideal for walking around. Yet, something else catches your attention and your hand falls.
“Is that… a new canvas I see?”
Rafayel is quick to block your view with a shake of his head. “Nope, not today. I’m totally not behind on a new exhibition piece,” he blurts.
Nearby, a seagull chirps in your brief moment of shared silence. You’re sure that miles away, his agent let out a sneeze at the revelation spoken before you. He averts your knowing gaze, and the faintest flush over his cheeks only paints the picture of his guilt further.
You sigh. "Rafayel…”
"Cutie, please,” he starts with a pout. The red-blue sea of his eyes round out as he faces you once more. “I can work on it after we finish an episode. Or two. I swear, it’s almost done-”
Taking a step to untangle yourselves, you reach for his hand instead. His fingers lace with yours instinctively. You offer him reassurance, thumb rubbing across the closest knuckle.
“Both myself and the show will keep you company,” you say. “I don’t have anything else planned for today, so my number one fishie can take all the time he needs.”
"Yeah?” The corners of his lips rise from their moping state, already forgotten. “I like the sound of that.”
Hi, could you please do one with main 5 x fem! Reader where they are mad at somebody else and accidentally come off as a bit cold towards her, and a bit later she looks up at them completely puppy dog eyed and asks if they’re mad at her for some reason, and they just absolutely melt for her, assuring her they’re not mad at her, (maybe throw in some cuteness aggression cause that was one of my favorites of yours lol). Thank you if you decide to do it!! ❤️
𐙚˙⋆.˚ mainfive! x gn!reader ꒰੭
𐙚˙⋆.˚ fluff, hurt/comfort-ish! ꒰੭
𐙚˙⋆.˚ sfw! ꒰੭
𐙚˙⋆.˚ do not translate/copy/repost! ꒰੭
﹙♡﹚hi, hi! i couldn't add the cuteness aggression for all of them, but i did try! ( ˶•ᴖ•) !! and btw, i'm so sorry, these days have been wild, so i wanted to take my time to write! i really hope you babies enjoy it ♡
𐙚˙⋆.˚ caleb! ꒰੭
in his true gemini nature, caleb could mask his emotions and intentions pretty well, so much so you couldn't always tell when he was feeling mad or if he had something on his mind.
and today wasn't the exception.
you called him while he was at work, and you told him you'd found his secret stash of candy.
of course, as one does, you asked if you could eat some, because he always ended up agreeing.
however, you could hear something going on in the background, and his tone was a little huskier, not really focused on what you had to say.
he barked some instructions before getting back to the phone, his voice tense.
“wait for me to get home,” he simply said before hanging up; something he never usually did.
with a heavy sigh, you waited and waited… staring at the candy bags with adoration and need. you wondered if something bad had gone down, since leb always answered right away and with a warm, tender tone.
but it didn't matter; you figured he was too busy, so the moment he came home, you ran to him, not even waiting for him to turn around and put the keys away.
“hey, lebbie! so, about the candy… you won't get mad if i eat some, right?” you smiled, hugging the bags close to your chest.
silence.
you stepped even closer.
“i mean, i… found this hidden away, and i know they're supposed to be yours, but i really want one! just one, please?”
again, nothing.
“lebbie?” you reached out to touch his shoulder, and that's when he turned around, tired, demolished, haunted.
“not now,” he whispered and walked past you, posture rigid and somewhat intimidating.
you swallowed hard.
oh gosh.
he was angry, very angry.
at you? maybe.
because of work? most likely.
you quietly followed, leaving the candy bags on the kitchen counter.
you watched as he put his gun on the bedside table and started to undress, his back turned to you.
“i'm sorry… i won't eat them if that's what's upsetting you,” you whispered, leaning against the door. “it was a bit silly of me to ask. they were hidden for a reason…”
“what?” he finally turned to face you, noticing your dejected expression.
those doe eyes, that frown, the way you tried to make yourself smaller…
“i interrupted you earlier today for something silly, and it was clear you were very, very busy. i'm really sorry...”
“angel, no…” he finally approached, not hesitating a single second to lift you up in his strong, bare arms.
his heart shattered into a million pieces; he messed up big time.
“sorry, i'm so sorry... i don't care about the candy, you can eat them all. i got them for you anyway,” he whispered, pressing his cheek against your head. “i was just distracted, baby, i didn't mean to sound like that.”
“really?” you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face against his shoulder. “i thought i'd done something bad...”
he shook his head profusely, lips finding your forehead.
“never. you did nothin' wrong, baby. you never do,” he promised, sitting down with you on his lap. “i let the stress get to me, but… as soon as i come home to you, that stress shouldn't belong anywhere near me.”
you closed your eyes and sighed in relief, clinging to him.
obviously, you were still a bit skeptical, but it all went away when he caressed your nape before tilting your chin up, his thumb rubbing the tip of your nose.
you looked absolutely adorable when sad… he needed to squeeze your cheeks until you smiled again, so that the guilt wouldn't eat him alive.
“i'll do better… and you can always call me, ‘kay? always. nothin' you ask for could ever be silly,” he pressed a kiss to your lips.
then to your chin.
then to your forehead…
and every little kiss grew quicker and messier the more he got into it, making you squeak.
“lebbie!” you smacked his shoulders when he pinned you under his weight, keeping you close just to attack you with tons of kisses.
you could take anything from him without even having to ask, but he wouldn't forgive himself so easily for making you feel sad or… worse; guilty for something that wasn't even your fault.
so he wouldn't stop until every cell in your body forgave him and his ugly tone from earlier.~
𐙚˙⋆.˚ rafayel! ꒰੭
“pink…?” he mumbled, holding two pieces of decorative paper. “amaranth or farmango?”
you approached, your arms finding his waist from behind. you nuzzled his back and smiled.
“hard choice, huh?”
he sighed and nodded, already irritated.
a friend of his recently had a baby girl and wanted rafayel to create a pink scrapbook with pictures and cutesy stickers for her first birthday.
since his friend didn't have much creativity nor the ability to create, they knew who to call.
“he asked specifically for pink, but he didn't say if he wanted baby pink, mexican pink, salmon pink…”
“taffy pink is cute,” you whispered, pointing down at the labeled piece of paper.
he followed your finger and shook his head.
“yeah, but i don't have any stickers that match. also, the dried flowers i got lean more towards purple…”
you tapped your lower lip, thinking.
“maybe fuchsia could work?”
“no…”
“uh, and what about that one next to the hot pink?” you smiled, now standing next to him.
he took a deep, loud breath and turned to look at you.
“you know what? i'll handle this myself…” he whispered, soon walking to the other side of the table, as if he just hadn't said that.
there was something about his tone that you didn't quite like; as if his voice represented what an eye roll looked like, if that made any sense.
did he just… dismiss you?
he sure did.
you parted your lips to speak, but soon closed them, hearing your heart breaking piece by piece inside your chest.
was it because your ideas were bad, or was he irritated with you?
you could only nod and move away, still hesitant.
he kept mumbling and mapping out some designs over the pages before gluing them with the utmost care.
by the time he had to glue the dried flowers, he looked around for you.
“my pearl? wanna help me with the flowers? this scrapbook needs your special touch,” he softly called out, peeking inside the bedroom.
he found you there, looking up at the door where he was standing.
your eyes were hopeful, although a bit sad.
“...does it? you really want my help now?” you whispered, your voice soft.
he was a bit taken aback.
you'd usually answer with an enthusiastic smile or straight up run towards the table to start helping right away.
this time, though, you seemed almost surprised.
“well, of course,” he sat next to you, his hand finding your shoulder to caress it. “you're almost as good as me,” he teased.
you didn't smile.
in fact, you looked down at your lap.
“so you're no longer mad at me?” you whispered, frowning slightly.
he leaned back, dumbfounded, almost as if your words punched him in the gut.
“mad at you?” he blinked. “who, me?”
you nodded, meeting his gaze once again.
“earlier, you said you'd handle it yourself… i thought i was being annoying or something.”
his brows knitted together and he placed a hand over his chest, feeling his heart ache both figuratively and literally.
oh, no.
no, no, no.
he never meant to hurt you.
he didn't even realize his tone had been cold, and now he was looking at you with watery eyes.
you looked so cute and vulnerable that it made him want to explode, either by sobbing uncontrollably or by wrapping his arms around you and never letting go, even if you couldn't breathe properly anymore.
his hands found your cheeks and he squished them until your lips formed a cute pout.
“i didn't mean— i didn't realize… oh, gods,” he sighed shakily. “you're never annoying, not even a little bit...”
you sniffled, placing your hands over his.
“but… but you said—”
he shook his head, unconsciously shaking yours as well with his hands.
“that damn scrapbook was getting on my nerves, my pearl,” he whispered. “not you, never you. i'm so sorry, so, so sorry…”
he pressed his lips against your pout over and over, leaning back just to sigh in distress when spotting your sad eyes.
you whined, trying to say you would forgive him if he made dinner, but he was stubbornly kissing you and apologizing through shaky whispers, shushing you since he didn't “deserve to hear your sweet voice until he fully repented.”
the scrapbook could wait until you were ready to finish it with your special touch. right now, rafayel wouldn't stop until the gods told him he was free of charge… and that could take quite some time.~
𐙚˙⋆.˚ sylus! ꒰੭
he knew not to talk to you harshly.
one; you never deserved it.
two; there was no need.
three; he hated to.
however, these past few days had been really stressful, and the chaos happening around the house didn't help at all.
things were breaking, the twins were trying out new things, the cat he rescued was causing mayhem… everything was adding up to sylus' stress levels, and while he was a very patient man, everything had a limit.
one particular day, after he finished fixing some wires, he sent the twins away with a somewhat stern tone.
the cat got grounded as well for spilling water glasses around some devices, and you…
well, you hadn't done anything, aside from entering the room and hugging your boyfriend.
since he was facing away from you, you didn't notice his expression nor the bags under his eyes.
“sy! hey, how was your day?” you sweetly asked, kissing his cheek from behind. “wanna play? it's been a week since we used the gaming pods!”
…the ones that got broken; the ones he was about to fix.
“not yet, sweetie,” he calmly answered.
“why? afraid i'll kick your pretty butt, huh? come on! i can wait until you're done!”
and maybe it was the stress, maybe it was the playfulness in your tone, sharply contrasting with his tiredness… but whatever it was, made him crack.
“i said no,” he stood up, looking at you over his shoulder before leaving with his tools.
you were speechless.
he said no to you… and in a tone he'd never used before?
your eyes were misty in no time.
you knew sylus wasn't an angry person, nor did he lose his patience often, so you paced around for exactly four minutes before your heart couldn't take it anymore. you ran after him, your heart thumping loudly.
“sy?” you called out, your voice a bit shaky. “sy, i'm sorry!” you looked around for him frantically, panting softly.
when you finally found him, you approached with quick steps, your hands clasped together.
“are you mad at me? did i do something wrong…? i won't kick your butt, i swear,” you promised, gently reaching for his arm.
he quite literally froze, processing your words for a few seconds.
he turned around and looked at you, his expression unreadable.
your watery eyes, the desperation in your voice, your trembling hands—
he wasn't known to break easily, but your expression shattered him immediately, his heart bleeding out when he realized it was because of him.
he quietly pulled you closer, his hand keeping your head against his chest. he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
how dare he let the stress get to him like that?
how dare he allow his mouth to use such a cold tone with you?
how dare he make you cry and beg for an apology?
it was wrong, all wrong.
when he pulled back to look at you, you could see the struggle and self-hatred in his eyes. but you also saw the tenderness and warmth you were missing, which were present in the way he wiped away your tears.
“kitten, i am so sorry,” he sighed, his lips pressed against your forehead. “the gaming pods are… temporarily out of service. i'll fix them later. right now, i need to unwind,” he explained, his voice now lower, clearly tired.
you understood now.
the twins' quiet behavior, the tools, the broken things he kept repairing… sylus was stressed out.
of course, he had never snapped before, —not at you at least— and while you understood, it didn't make it hurt any less.
but his apology was very sincere, you could tell.
“i'll make it up to you,” he gently pulled back, his hands now finding your cheeks. “i just need you to stay with me for a few minutes, is that okay, sweetheart?”
you nodded quietly, and that's when he finally kissed your lips.
his arms coiling around your waist to keep you close.
now that your tears were no longer present, and his frustration disappeared the more he kissed you, it was time to finally relax.
and what better way to do so than by acknowledging how adorable you looked with your puffy cheeks and pouty lips?
before you could register it, he was biting down on your cheek, then the other, then your lower lip, his grip becoming tighter, and tighter…
you were between his claws now, but you did say you wanted to play for a bit, right?~
𐙚˙⋆.˚ xavier! ꒰੭
you could recognize his tones now.
at first, it was a bit tricky, since he didn't show much emotion when speaking, but now you could pick up his excitement, his sadness, his jealousy…
however, it wasn't always noticeable, and that often led to miscommunication or misinterpretation.
today, as he was working on some reports, you sat next to him and placed your head on his shoulder.
he met your forehead with a soft kiss before returning to work with a bored expression. he was already irritated since he had delayed these reports for days, and now he had no excuse not to finish them.
you stayed quiet at first, not wanting to disturb him too much.
though, as he kept typing, the documents got more and more underlined words in red and blue.
xavi usually went over them when he finished so he wouldn't lose his train of thought, but… your fingers were itching to fix the mistakes, no matter how silly.
“you should add a comma there,” you gently said, pointing to the mistake with your finger. “it reads better that way.”
and he listened, stopping briefly to add the comma before moving on.
you kept making little adjustments here and there, but only when you felt he would absolutely forget otherwise, yet you failed to notice how he struggled to continue where he left off, since he was losing his ideas.
when he reached a particularly messy paragraph, he stopped typing upon sensing you'd chime in again.
instead, he placed the laptop on your lap and stood up.
“you do it,” he said in a quiet tone before heading towards the bathroom.
you couldn't really identify his tone, nor could you see his face when he said it, but... to you, it was clear he was angry, or at least annoyed.
you stared at the laptop before following his retreating figure with your gaze, feeling awful.
in reality, xavier really needed to go to the bathroom, and he figured you could help him since you were noticing things he didn't care about.
that's why he asked for your help... in his own blunt way.
you, on the other hand, were now wondering if maybe you'd been way too pushy, or if you were disrupting his work, which you probably were.
you closed the laptop and placed it on the coffee table, sitting on the couch with your knees pulled up to your chest.
when he returned from the bathroom, he saw you curled up in the corner of the couch, looking smaller than usual.
he tilted his head, confused, before sitting next to you and pulling you closer.
“finished, my star?”
you stayed quiet, still unsure if he was upset with you or not.
he noticed your lack of response, pulling away slightly to look at your face.
your eyes were avoiding his.
“what's wrong?” he asked, his voice soft.
you hesitated before speaking, your voice barely above a whisper.
“are you... mad at me?”
his eyes widened slightly at your question before his expression softened.
he cupped your face gently, forcing you to look at him.
“no,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “why would you think that?”
“you were so... cold,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze again.
he frowned, trying to recall his previous words and tone.
was he?
well, he knew better than to question you, since he knew he wasn't an open book most of the time.
“i'm sorry,” he said sincerely, pressing his forehead against yours. “i didn't mean to sound that way.”
you nodded, still feeling a bit guilty.
he sighed, pulling you into a tight hug.
“i could never be mad at you,” he murmured into your hair. “you're too cute.”
you couldn't help but smile at his words, finally relaxing in his arms.
“but i was disrupting your work,” you pointed out.
he shrugged.
the reports could burn for all he cared.
“i'll come up with something,” he poked your cheeks softly before pinching them between his index and middle fingers. “so soft…”
and it was true; you were looking particularly cute and squeezable with that pretty pout and those puppy eyes.
irresistible for a man like him.
“xavi!” you whined, trying to pull his hands away.
but he kept squishing, pulling, and poking your soft cheeks, as if playing with a fluffy cat or a small mochi.
yeah, you've lost him, the reports wouldn't be finished by… well, never, and you already knew he would beg you to finish them.
after all, you were so eager to correct him, and you were unable to resist those pretty eyes of his; might as well enjoy his attention today and get to work tomorrow.~
𐙚˙⋆.˚ zayne! ꒰੭
it was quite easy to confuse a serious zayne with an irritated one.
when he was with you, his tone would remain soft and tender, mostly because that's what you made him feel.
but when stress factors got in the way, that sweetness could turn a little bittersweet, unintentionally, of course.
you were on a small trip to a tropical island. he was driving, you were choosing the music, his hand was on your thigh; things were amazing.
or well, that was until the song kept getting cut off because zayne was receiving several calls from an unknown number.
everyone at the hospital knew he had the week off, so they wouldn't dare interrupt him.
however, it seemed like the caller was totally unaware, and they kept insisting and insisting, until zayne had to pick up.
it was a man, claiming that his work had been stolen by zayne.
he didn't greet or state his name; he just yelled and ranted about his thesis and how zayne had plagiarized it, which was obviously not true.
zayne remained composed, but before he could even respond, the man threatened to sue and hung up.
a tense silence followed, and the song that was playing started once again now that the call was over, making the situation even more awkward.
zayne was tense because he was driving, and now he would have to stop to either investigate or check the thousands of pictures and “evidence” the man kept sending.
he stopped at a gas station, got off, and tried to settle things away from you. you could only watch from the window with a worried expression, because now he would be stressed out, when it was supposed to be the best week ever.
after half an hour, he returned to the car and remained quiet until you asked if things were okay.
“it was a mistake. things are settled,” he assured you. you softly smiled, clearly relieved.
to try and ease things up a little bit, you gently caressed his arm.
“can we get some snacks before we go?” you asked sweetly, gesturing towards the gas station with puppy eyes.
but, much to your surprise, he started the engine.
“you had half an hour to get out and buy something. we are running late,” and with that, the car got back on track.
needless to say, you were dumbfounded, hurt, confused…
you quickly turned around, trying to hide your watery eyes and broken heart.
he was just desperate for things to go according to plan, and this delay had ruined things so far, but… it wasn't an excuse to be so cold.
by the time you got to the resort, zayne was visibly calmer and relieved, ready to forget everything and smooch you all night long.
you, however, remained seated while he unloaded the bags from the trunk, tears streaming down your face.
he opened the door for you, and as soon as he saw your face, he crouched down, alarmed.
“my flower?” he asked, his voice soft and back to normal, as it should always be. “what happened?”
you sniffled, not wanting to look at him.
“are you mad at me too, because we're late…? it's not my fault… i didn't want to interrupt your conversation by g-getting out of the car,” you tried to explain yourself, which wasn't necessary at all.
nothing had been your fault.
he felt like the worst man alive.
without hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, kissing your forehead repeatedly.
“i was not angry at you,” he assured you, hugging you tighter. “you did nothing wrong. i am sorry for speaking to you like that.”
you sniffled again, and he gently wiped your tears away before kissing your cheeks.
“i wanted things to go as planned, but i never intended to hurt you. never,” he said, pulling back slightly to look at you.
“i just wanted some gummies...” you whispered in a small voice, and his heart broke further.
he held you even closer, nuzzling your head repeatedly as he left soft, apologetic kisses.
how could you be so painfully cute?
“i promise i will get you as many gummies as you wish, my love. our vacation starts now, we should forget about the past hour,” he whispered, gently lifting you out of the car.
you nodded, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you to the entrance with one arm, the other one dragging your luggage.
“i will make it up to you; no matter what that takes, flower.”
he didn't care about the affectionate and public display; he had amends to make. he couldn't have your heart breaking on him; not when he planned to make it thump with nothing but joy and excitement.
he kissed your head and held you tighter as you got checked in. seconds later, he handed his phone to the receptionist, who held it with a confused smile.
zayne didn't need anything (or anyone) else interfering; he just wanted to watch his flower bloom under the sun, eating many gummies and hugging him nonstop… if he was forgiven first, that was.~
even more ridiculous question,,, what would their starter be named,,,?? i feel like none of them would BUT like if they did. imagine u guys. i think its caleb,,, fit guy.
izzy806
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dededos
