Injured and Loud Ninjas?

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[mephisto-reporting]

Hearbreak Anniversary with Sylus

Summary: It was your anniversary with Sylus. One year of togetherness. But what if he does not show up when you expect him to? What if he was spending it with MC?

Pairing: Non MC! Reader x Sylus

Note: MC in this fic goes by the name Lina (my name... so if you are angry, you can be angry at me :3). This oneshot was based on this request. I will write this for the other LADS men too. Also I don't think any of these men would ever be the type to actually willlingly forget it. So I had to adapt the request a bit.

Rafayel version | Zayne version | Caleb Version

Content Warning: injuries, panic, insecurities, self worth issues, blood, death, Sylus POV

It had been a year since you and Sylus had been together.

How this man, leader of Onychinus, with all his power, wealth, and the infamous reputation that made the N109 Zone bow at his feet—had fallen for you, of all people, remained a mystery. Perhaps it had been one of those dangerous, untraceable things, like the slow bloom of a wildfire, unpredictable and impossible to stop once ignited.

And yet, it had happened.

Sylus had told you he’d be back today. You remembered the way he’d said it, smug as ever, like he was indulging you in some little fantasy. “I’ll be back before you have time to miss me, sweetheart.”

That had been a week ago, before he left for a deal abroad. He had taken Luke and Kieran with him—his most trusted men, twins who seemed to share a single mind between them. And, of course, Lina, the Deepspace hunter who should have been arresting him, but somehow always ended up tangled in his orbit instead.

You hadn’t mentioned your plans to Sylus. If there was one thing you craved, it was the rare chance to catch him off guard for once.

The base was quiet today. You had given the chefs the day off and spent the better half of the afternoon in the kitchen yourself, cooking a meal that was hearty, rich—something that would remind Sylus that despite his empire of steel and blood, he had something warm waiting for him here.

And the gifts—what could you give a man who had everything? Who could have anything in the world with the mere curl of his fingers?

So, you made something with your own hands.

A hand-stitched crimson silk tie, embroidered subtly with black thread in the shape of a feather—your own nod to his empire. A custom-made pocket watch with an inscription hidden on the inside, words only he would ever see: Come home to me. And a small leather-bound notebook, filled with notes, half-written thoughts, and memories of the past year. A private piece of your heart, wrapped up in ink and paper. Next to the plates, a black velvet box rested, holding custom cufflinks shaped like crimson feathers, mirroring the streaks on his shirt.

The air in Sylus’ study was thick with the scent of the meal you’d spent hours preparing, rich spices and slow-cooked flavors meant to fill the room with warmth, with care. The table was set for two, lit by the soft glow of candles, the dim golden light reflecting off the dark mahogany of his desk. It was a quiet contrast to the usual sharp edges of the space, the atmosphere softened just for tonight. Just for him.

You had even opened a bottle of wine, anticipation humming in your chest like a live wire.

But the hours stretched, the evening creeping into the depths of night.

Sylus never came.

You tried calling him. But the line never connected.

How could that be? You had spoken to him just yesterday.

A cold unease coiled in your gut.

You tried calling Luke. Then Kieran.

No response.

The silence pressed in, thick and suffocating. The air smelled of rich spices, of the meal you had made, but the warmth had long since bled from the room.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of your dress as you paced.

Had something happened? Had the deal gone wrong? He never left you waiting without reason. And Luke and Kieran? They never ignored your calls.

A dozen worst-case scenarios flashed through your mind, none of them pleasant.Your heart pounded, and just when the thoughts threatened to spiral into something unbearable—

Your phone rang.

The screen lit up with Luke & Kieran. Relief surged, and you answered in an instant.

“Where the hell have you been? Are you all okay? Where’s Sylus?” The words rushed out, tangled with worry.

A beat of silence. Then, as expected, Luke spoke first, his voice carrying its usual playful lilt.

“Whoa, slow down, boss lady. We’re fine. Everything’s fine.”

Kieran’s voice followed, grounded and even. “Change of schedule. We’re flying back tomorrow instead.”

Tomorrow?

Your fingers tightened around the phone. “What? Why? Where’s Sylus?”

Another pause. You could hear Luke hesitate, which was never a good sign. “Ahh… yeah, about that—”

“Kieran,” you pressed, “where is he?”

There was a sigh on the other end before Kieran answered, blunt as always.

“Miss Hunter came down with a fever.”

You blinked. “Lina?”

“She was being fussy about seeing a doctor,” Luke added. “So, naturally, Sylus decided to stay and look after her.”

You heard Luke let out a nervous chuckle, the kind he only did when he knew he had just stepped into a landmine. “Y’know, the usual—boss being boss. Can’t have our little Deepspace hunter collapsing, right? He’s making sure she’s alright.”

Something in you twisted.

“He—” Your voice caught. “He’s staying behind for her?”

“Yeah,” Kieran confirmed. “We figured it’d be easier than dragging her onto the plane half-conscious. You know how she is.”

Luke chuckled. “Yeah, stubborn as hell. Kind of endearing though—”

The rest of his sentence faded into white noise.

Sylus wasn’t coming home.

Not tonight. Not for you.

Not for your anniversary.

Your fingers went numb around the phone as something heavy lodged itself in your throat. The carefully prepared meal, the handmade gifts, the effort you’d poured into making this night special—it all felt meaningless now.

Your free hand curled into a fist, nails digging into your palm. You swallowed, forcing your voice to stay steady.

“I see,” you said, quiet.

“Oh—wait, did you need something?” Luke asked, oblivious.

You almost laughed. Did you need something?

No. Apparently, you didn’t.

“Nothing,” you said. “Just… fly back safe, all of you. I’ll see you when you are back.”

You ended the call before they could say anything else.

Silence filled the room once more.

The meal on the table had gone cold. The wine in the glasses sat untouched.

And in the quiet, you stared at the chair where Sylus should have been—where you had thought he would be.

But he wasn’t.

It wasn’t fair to be angry.

You knew that.

Lina’s sickness wasn’t something Sylus could have accounted for. If you had been in his place, you would have done the same—of course you would have. You would never leave someone behind in that condition, never abandon a friend in need.

But you weren’t Sylus. You weren’t a man who could summon entire fleets at a whim, who could command the world to bend at his feet.

Sylus had resources. If he wanted, he could have had her taken care of in the best medical facility in the world and still made it home to you. But he stayed. And you?

You didn’t even know where they were.

The thought stung, sharp and unrelenting, digging into the marrow of your bones.

You pressed your palm against your eyes, swallowing back the rush of emotions that threatened to consume you. Anger. Hurt. A rational voice in the back of your mind whispered that none of this was Sylus’ fault. That you were being unreasonable.

But emotions weren’t reasonable.

You had spent hours preparing this night. Thought of every detail. A meal made with your own hands. Gifts carefully chosen, stitched, inscribed. Every little thing was meant to remind Sylus that despite the world he ruled, despite the empire of steel and blood he had built, he had something warm waiting for him. Someone waiting for him.

And yet.

A soul-bound connection...

You weren’t stupid. You had known about it, ever since Sylus told you—told you about a past life that Lina had no recollection of, about a sorceress and a dragon bound together by the threads of fate itself.

Not this life. Not this Sylus. Not this Lina.

But it didn’t matter, did it?

Your eyes burned, and you pressed your fingers against them, as if you could push back the rising sting of tears. No, this wasn’t Sylus’ fault. It wasn’t Lina’s either.

But that didn’t stop the pain.

Because it wasn’t just tonight, was it?

It was the lingering shadow of a story you had no part in.

But it didn’t matter, did it?

No matter how much you tried, no matter how much love you poured into this relationship, how could you ever stand against something forged by the universe itself?

It wasn’t just about tonight. It wasn’t just about the cold meal or the untouched gifts.

It was about that feeling—that sick, awful feeling twisting inside your chest.

You were inadequate.

You were nothing compared to a bond that had been written into the very fabric of fate. And what were you against that?

Mortal. Fleeting. A blip in the vast, endless history of what they had once been.

It made you feel so small.

No matter how much you tried, no matter how much you gave, the universe had already decided. Sylus belonged to someone else. Even if he chose you, even if he kissed you and whispered your name in the dark, you would never have what they had. You would never be the one his soul cried out for in the quiet.

The thought carved something deep inside you, raw and aching, a wound without a name.

You turned away from the dining table, from the abandoned dinner and the untouched wine, and picked up the plates with numb fingers. The weight of them felt heavier than it should have, or maybe it was just the weight of everything else pressing down on you.

The kitchen was silent save for the quiet clatter of porcelain as you methodically began packing the food into containers. Your movements were mechanical, automatic—store the food, seal the lids, stack them away. You barely registered what you were doing, lost in the storm raging inside you.

You loved him.

God, you loved him so much.

But was love enough? How was that supposed to stand against bonds forged by souls?

Your chest ached, your vision blurred, but you kept going. Container after container, hands moving with purpose even as your mind spiraled. You didn’t let yourself cry. Not now. Not yet.

It wasn’t until a cold gust of air brushed against the nape of your neck that you realized something was wrong.

Your hands stilled.

The air was different.

Off.

The base was secure—always. Layers of defenses, reinforced doors, security measures that made it near-impossible for anyone to slip in unnoticed. And yet, something in the stillness of the space sent a prickle of unease down your spine.

Slowly, you turned your head.

The lights above flickered once. Twice.

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

You weren’t alone.

SYLUS' POV

The hum of the engine thrummed beneath Sylus’ fingers as the aircraft carved a path through the night sky. Outside the reinforced glass, the neon-soaked cityscape of the N109 Zone flickered like dying embers. His grip on the armrest was tight, his jaw set in a firm line as unease coiled in his gut.

Something was wrong.

He had tried calling you earlier, more than once, but each attempt had ended the same—no connection.

That wasn’t normal.

You always answered, always picked up on the first or second ring, even if it was just to snap at him for being an overbearing bastard. But tonight? Silence.

Kieran’s voice cut through the cockpit. “Dropping Lina off now. Shouldn’t take long.”

Sylus barely spared the exchange a glance as Luke helped the girl out, her feverish form was leaning against Kieran. He should have been relieved—getting her to the edge of N109 Zone meant she was going back to Linkon and being cared for.

Minutes later, when Kieran and Luke rejoined him, Sylus barely waited for them to strap in before he barked, “Move. Now…” as they drove towards the base.

Luke shot him a sidelong glance but, wisely, didn’t ask questions.

The base wasn’t far. They reached the outskirts in record time, but the second Sylus stepped off the vehicle, his pulse sharpened to a blade’s edge.

The air was wrong.

Too still.

And right now, his own base felt foreign.

A flicker of movement caught his eye. His security grid had been tampered with. Not shut down—no, that would have triggered failsafes—but rerouted, bypassed just enough to avoid raising alarms.

Luke and Kieran noticed it at the same time.

Sylus turned to them, his red eyes gleaming under the low lights. One look was all it took.

They spread out, moving like shadows.

Kieran’s voice was calm, but there was an edge to it. “Boss lady was here yesterday.”

A muscle in Sylus' jaw ticked.

His gaze snapped to Kieran, but the man was already continuing. “Yesterday. Security logs picked her up before the system went dark.”

That cold feeling coiled into something heavier, denser. His gut twisted in a way he didn’t like.

Was she safe? Was she hurt?

You  had been here.

And now you weren’t answering your goddamn phone.

He moved faster, his long strides carrying him through the halls with terrifying purpose. The first guard he saw was sprawled on the floor, unconscious, a dark bruise spreading along his jaw. Another lay slumped against the wall, barely breathing. Sylus crouched briefly, checking their pulse. Alive. But taken out efficiently.

Someone had gotten in.

And you—

A sharp exhale through his nose. He didn’t let the fear settle in his chest. Didn’t let it slow him down.

His mind burned through every logical step as he stalked through the base, checking rooms, searching for any trace of you. When he reached your shared room, his heart kicked up—only for it to plummet at the sight.

The door was ajar. The air inside was stale.

And everything was a mess.

The bed was unmade. The belongings scattered. Drawers left half-open. It looked like a fight had broken out—or someone had torn through the space in a rush.

Sylus never rushed. Never panicked. He was in control—always.

And yet, something dark and frigid curled in his chest as he pivoted, moving toward his study.

The moment he stepped inside, the scent of melted wax and aged wine hit him first. His gaze dropped, cataloging the scene in an instant.

Candles, burned low.

A bottle of wine, uncorked.

Two glasses. One untouched.

The weight of realization hit him like a fist.

You had been waiting for him.

Something curdled in his stomach.

The back of his mind supplied a thought he refused to acknowledge. Had you left because of it? Had something snapped in you before someone else got here first?

Before he could spiral further, a voice crackled through his earpiece—sharp, panicked.

“Boss!” Luke’s voice. “Kitchen—now.”

Sylus was already moving before the transmission cut.

The moment he stepped in, his breath stilled.

The smell of food, faint and lingering, mixed with something coppery.

The table was overturned, food scattered, porcelain shards glinting in the dim light. A glass had shattered, its crimson contents smeared across the floor like blood—except there was blood.

Not just wine. A dark stain, drying.

Your phone lay cracked on the floor, its screen splintered beyond recognition.

And next to it—two men.

Not his.

Two unfamiliar men lay motionless nearby, their bodies in a puddle of blood where they had fallen. Not his men. Intruders.

You fought.

Sylus’ blood turned ice-cold.

You had fought.

His fingers curled into fists, his Evol humming beneath his skin, barely restrained.

He should have been here yesterday.

That thought seared through Sylus’ mind like a molten brand, burning deeper with every heartbeat.

He should have flown back yesterday. Should have shoved Lina into a damn transport and sent her straight to Linkon without a second thought. Should have been here with you. Should have spent the night with you. Should have protected you.

Instead, he’d played nurse, wasted hours hovering over a feverish girl, while you—

His gut twisted as he moved through the wreckage. The kitchen was a battlefield, overturned chairs and smeared blood marking the violence that had taken place. His boots crunched over broken porcelain, and his breath came shallow, ragged.

He should have been here.

His study flickered in his mind—the candles, the untouched glass of wine, the boxes of presents you had set up. Always a step ahead of him. Always anticipating what he needed before he even realized it. You had been waiting for him. And he hadn’t come.

He failed you.

A sharp exhale hissed past his teeth, and he forced his focus back on the blood trail. It smeared across the floor, fading and reappearing in uneven patches—dragged footsteps. It wasn’t enough blood to be fatal, but it was too much for him to ignore. His pulse was a war drum in his ears as he followed it, every step carving another layer of dread into his spine.

Then—

A door. Slightly ajar.

The closet.

Sylus barely registered his own movement as he wrenched it open.

And there you were.

Curled in on yourself, hidden between crates and spare supplies. Your limbs were tangled awkwardly, one hand clutching your side, the other barely shielding your face. Your breathing was shallow, uneven. A dark stain spread across your shirt—blood.

His stomach plummeted.

Fuck.

His knees hit the floor before he even processed it, his hands reaching, trembling. He never trembled. But now—

His fingers brushed your cheek.

His jaw clenched as he took in the bruises, the way your body remained so still, so eerily still—

Then you moved.

It was slight, barely a twitch at first, but then—your breath hitched sharply, and before he could say a word, you jerked awake.

Wild, terrified eyes locked onto him.

And in the space of a heartbeat, you struck.

A flash of motion, a blade in your trembling grip—his grip shot out, catching your wrist before you could drive it into his throat. Your strength faltered, but your panic didn’t. Your chest heaved, your breath ragged and erratic. Fear clouded your gaze—real, visceral. You didn’t see him.

You saw an enemy.

“Hey!” His voice was lower, rougher than he meant it to be. He forced himself to ease his grip on your wrist, slow and deliberate. “It’s me.”

You were still rigid, still shaking. He watched as your pupils dilated, as reality reassembled itself behind your exhausted eyes.

His heart clenched.

“It’s me, sweetheart...” he repeated, softer this time. His thumb brushed against your pulse point—too fast, too frantic.

A shudder passed through you, and then, slowly—finally—your body sagged. The tension bled out of your frame as your vision cleared, as recognition settled in.

Sylus caught you before you could slump forward.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you against him, his body coiled with a thousand emotions he couldn’t untangle. You were hurt. You were bleeding. And he hadn’t been here.

His voice came quieter, steadier, even as everything inside him screamed. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

Sylus could feel the erratic hammering of your heart beneath his fingertips, the warmth of your blood seeping through his gloves. His mind was screaming, a cacophony of rage, grief, and self-recrimination, but none of it mattered—not when you were here, small and shaking in his arms.

And then, in a voice so quiet, so broken it shattered something inside him, you whispered:

"Where were you?"

Sylus stilled.

"Why weren’t you here?"

The words weren’t an accusation. That would’ve been easier. No, they were worse. They were raw. A desperate, wounded thing, frayed at the edges. And gods, he would’ve taken a blade to the heart over this—over the way your voice cracked, over the way you curled into yourself, as if trying to make sense of the void he had left behind.

"I—" The word caught in his throat. It wasn’t enough. Nothing would be enough. He exhaled sharply, his grip tightening as though he could somehow hold you together when you’d already been torn apart.

"I’m sorry." The words rasped from him, raw and guttural. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath uneven. "I’m so fucking sorry."

You swallowed thickly, the barest shudder rocking your frame. "I was waiting," you whispered. "I waited. But you never came."

Sylus squeezed his eyes shut. He had known—known—the moment he saw the candles in his study, the untouched wine, the careful arrangement of gifts, that you had been waiting. That you had planned this night, had prepared for him. And he had never told you he wouldn't be there.

And now you were bleeding in his arms.

"I should’ve told you," he murmured, his voice cracking. "I should’ve—fuck—I was too far up my own head. I was wrong. I was so goddamn wrong."

Your fingers curled weakly into the fabric of his coat. He could feel the way you were holding yourself together, could hear the pain in your ragged breathing, and yet—

"Is Lina okay?"

A sharp exhale hissed past Sylus’ teeth, his jaw tightening. Even now, even after everything, you were asking about someone else. Worrying about someone else. His fingers trembled as he brushed your hair back from your face.

"You should be worried about yourself," he murmured, his voice softer now, almost chiding. "Lina’s fine. She’ll be fine. But you—" His throat tightened. "You’re the one who needs help right now, sweetheart."

Your breath hitched, and he felt you sag against him, whether from exhaustion or relief, he couldn’t tell.

"I saw the study, with the candles and the presents" he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper now. "I saw the kitchen with the food."

His fingers brushed against your cheek, reverent, as if touching something fragile, something he didn’t deserve.

“You were waiting for me.”

A small, broken nod.

“I should have been here…” he whispered.

A sharp inhale from you, barely audible. “The food is ruined…”

"I know. But you did what you had to, sweetheart. You were brave," he murmured, pressing his lips to your temple. "So damn brave." His hands curled against your back, his grip steady, anchoring. "But you never should’ve had to be."

His voice shook then, something fractured bleeding through. "I should’ve been here. I should’ve been protecting you. I should’ve been celebrating with you, not—" He swallowed hard, his breath shuddering.

Not finding you like this. Not watching you bleed.

He tilted his head forward, burying his face against your hair, his breath unsteady.

“I failed you.” The words tasted like rust on his tongue. “I should have been here. I should have been protecting you instead of being away. I should have been celebrating our time, our love with you, not—” His jaw clenched, his grip tightening. “Not finding you like this.”

Another shudder passed through your frame. Then, slowly—hesitantly—you curled against him, your body giving out, trusting him to hold you up.

Sylus did.

He held you like you were something sacred, something irreplaceable.

And for the first time in longer than he could remember, he felt his own confidence falter.

He had always been the one in control. The one who planned ahead, who anticipated every threat, every move. But now, kneeling here with you trembling in his arms, beaten and bleeding because he hadn’t been there—

He wasn’t in control of a damn thing.

And he hated it.

But more than that—he hated that you had ever felt alone.

Never again.

Sylus gritted his teeth as he slid his arms beneath you, carefully lifting you against his chest. The moment your body shifted, a sharp, barely-there whimper escaped you, and his stomach twisted violently. His hold tightened instinctively, as if he could somehow absorb the pain for you.

“I know, sweetheart,” he rasped. “I know it hurts. I’m sorry.”

Your breath was shallow against his neck, but you didn’t resist when he pulled you closer, cradling you against him as he rose to his feet. You were too weak to fight it. Too hurt. And that realization cut through him worse than any blade ever could.

He had let this happen.

Not again.

Never again.

“You need medical attention,” he said, his voice low and firm, more for himself than for you. “And I need to get you somewhere safe.”

His mind was already burning through possibilities. Where to take you. Who to trust. The fastest route, the safest location, the cleanest supplies. But beneath the cold, calculated thoughts was something else—something raw and unbearable, curling tight around his chest like barbed wire.

“You’re too damn patient with me,” he murmured, his voice thick. “I’m a fool. A goddamn fool, and I don’t deserve it.”

Your fingers curled again weakly against the fabric of his coat. He nearly stopped breathing. Even now, after everything, you still reached for him.

His throat ached.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he promised. “Until my last fucking breath.” His heart slammed against his ribs, his mind spiraling with everything he hadn’t said, everything he hadn’t done. Every moment he should have been here, instead of lost in his own head, buried in responsibilities that suddenly felt insignificant compared to the weight of you in his arms.

“I love you,” he admitted, the words slipping free before he could stop them. “Too much to lose you. Do you understand?” His grip on you firmed, as if anchoring himself to the reality of having you here. “You are the only light in the perpetual darkness of N109. The only light in my life.”

He exhaled sharply, steadying himself, steadying you.

“And I will never lose that.”

His grip on you was secure as he carried you forward, out of the wreckage, away from the blood and broken glass

“You found me…” you whispered, barely more than a breath.

His arms tightened around you. “I’ll always find you.”

You shifted slightly in his arms, your voice weak but steady as you met his gaze, eyes glistening with the faintest hint of something like trust.

“I know you’ll make it right,” you whispered, your fingers brushing his cheek, a soft touch amidst the chaos. "You always do."

Sylus paused, his breath catching at the warmth of your words, a flicker of relief sparking through the storm of guilt that had clouded his chest. “Sweetheart, I never want it to get to this point, ever again and I never will let it come to that.”

"I don't need you to be perfect," you murmured, your eyes meeting his for a moment, steady despite the pain. "I just need you to stay."

Sylus' heart twisted, and he swallowed thickly, the weight of those words pressing down on him. He had never been the kind of man to believe in redemption—not for someone like him. But in that moment, he could almost taste it. The possibility.

He leaned his forehead against yours once more, his breath shaky but filled with something that burned a little less than guilt.

"I’ll stay, sweetheart," he vowed softly. "I’ll stay. And I’ll fight for us... for as long as you’ll have me."

The future between the two of you, uncertain as it was, seemed a little less dark. There were wounds to heal, scars to mend—but there was also time. Time that, for the first time in a long while, didn’t feel like it was running out.

Maybe, just maybe, there was something worth fighting for after all.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

If you like my work, you can buy me a Ko-fi. (Tips are not expected, so don't feel pressured to do so.)

Rafayel version | Zayne version | Caleb Version

Taglist: @cordidy, @natimiles @leighsartworks216 @notisekais @raining4food @fallthelong @pomegranatepip @juliuscaesarsstabbedback @krystallevine @lemurianmaster @nenggie @loverindeepspace @sinsodom @lucifers-silhouette @sunsethw4 @kthehoeforfictionalmen @mentaltrouble2201 @seris-the-amious @cheezeandkrackers

[leftpoetrymoon]

Guys imagine, non mc is their soulmate, the one who owns half of their soul in every Life time. But they don't know that and forget their love for non mc and they fall in love with mc instead of her in every life time.

It's because non mc is cursed by Astra (instead of Zayne) so she suffers in every life watching them fall in love with mc. Like if she works as a hunter Xavier notices her and feels like she's someone that he should be devoted to but the curse activates and blocks his mind so he goes to mc.

If she works at Akso hospital as a nurse , as much as she tries to engage with Zayne he won't talk to her and have lunch with mc or hang out with her. But at night he suffers from nightmares where a faceless girl walks with him and dies at the end so horribly by his evol that he gets reminded of you.

If she is a secretary to Rafayel he playfully chats with her, hangs out with her- hell he won't even notice that his soul is responding to her because of the bond like a clueless fish, so when he sees mc he immediately forgot about her entirely .

If she is a sidekick to sylus, she slowly avoids him but like a fool when he looks at her she melts in his gaze knowing that she will be hurt when mc arrives. So she Just watches her dragon is loving another instead of his sorceress.

If she works at farspace fleet , yea Caleb is cold to her. But something in his body is always yearning for her. So she lets him, but when mc arrives she is thrown aside.

So when she finally ends that bond by cutting the red thread all of them feels like their heart gets crushed by the force only then their memories returns.

Xavier was killing wanderers as usual with mc but suddenly he fell down his knees and clutched his heart like his soul was tores into pieces. He starts to remember. The girl who died in his arms at Philos gifting him the star tassel , the girl who became a queen to feed his planet it was not mc it was her. The one he always looks at does not talk. His soulmate. So he rushes to her apartment only to find it empty. Why?

Zayne was working with his documents when suddenly his breath got hitched, his head felt like splitting. Slowly, steadily he sits on the chair gripping the edge of the table. Memories flood into his brain like a dam, he finally remembers the faceless girl in his dreams, the one died horribly at the tower by his evol, the one who symbolises his jasmine. Opening the door he rushes into the busy hallway to find her but bumps into Grayson. Zayne gripped his shoulders and asked about non mc but his heart got dropped when Grayson questioned him. "Who is non-mc? She's a nurse at Akso hospital? What are you saying Zayne there's no one working here in that name."

Rafayel was sitting by the beach to escape from Thomas, he looked at the sea and sighed softly. Suddenly he feels that. His bond disappeared suddenly, he got startled for a second so he called mc to check if she was ok. But to his surprise he didn't feel the bond when he talked to her. He suddenly groaned from the pain and gripped his hair. Back when the god of tides bonded to his priestess but forgots her when he met mc because of the curse and betrayed his homeland. He remembers that. He remembers non mc. He looked at Thomas who was running in his way. "Rafayel! Get up-" ,"where is non mc?" Thomas looked at him with a confused gaze, "what are you blabbering? Did you forget that we are hiring a secretary for you? Get up!"

Sylus walks into the mission with the twins behind them from the auction. He expects your presence to greet him when he comes back just like you always did. His eyes widened when he felt that his heart was splitting from the pain. The twins noticed this immediately and grabbed his shoulders. "Boss! Are you ok!?" Years of pain came to him, his sorceress, the curse, how he forgot his sorceress that he was searching for eons and gave his attention to someone else? His sorceress was always standing beside him but he only noticed that when you break the bond. "Luke, Kieran bring non mc to me", "Boss who is that?"

Now caleb. Alright, the colonel was at his home which was in skyhaven going through documents. He checked his phone every two minutes expecting a call or message from his new soldier but he didn't. That's when he felt the agonizing pain. He knows. He knows. He fucking finally remembers who was the girl besides him at his childhood when they were experimenting on him. Who was the girl that always holds his hand so he won't cry in his sleep. Who was the girl that he failed to protect when ever ripped you off from him. The next day he checked every possible place that you could be, but he couldn't find you. When he goes to your dorm he was surprised to find out that it was vacant for 2 months and no one's been there.

Why? What happened to non-mc?

She got erased from the universe. Because when she cuts the thread she knows that she won't be here anymore so to end this pain she does it.

Why? Love is always cruel to us?

So the roles got reversed.

Now they are the one who's with the memories of you, while you are playing the game as a player. Now in this life they are just a dating sim to you. But sometimes you notice that they don't talk about their scripted dialogues or how they look at you with the longing eyes. How they wanted to break off the fourth wall to touch you, to give you the love you deserve, wanting your forgiveness for making you wait for them. If this is their fate, they will definitely change it.

They will definitely break the fourth wall to bring you to their world, like before and gets their happy ending.

Can they?

This is just an idea that came randomly to me. So if any of you want to make a fic using this idea please do!!

[tiredasfuckuma]

Come Home.

From @hajimeowmeow's prompt where Caleb receives a message threatening to hurt the person he loves the most, yet instead of staying with you, his girlfriend, he thinks mc is in danger and stays with her in linkon for weeks on end. He comes back but you're not the same-- more eerie, as a parasite takes over your brain.

nooooot proofread, just wrote this literally now hahah bc i am in my sad girl hours and i need smthng to hurt me.

warnings? tragic love, caleb being sad, pathetic, and begging; doomed love. also K by CAS, is the perfect song wrote this with CAS playlist :p

@youre-my-headliner @mia-menaceinaction

-----

There is the dim, yet warm light of a single lamp open in the living room; the TV is buzzing, words of characters that you’re only barely paying attention to anymore. A sitcom you really like rewatching. It was raining a little, so you look at your phone. A message you sent 2 hours ago, still left on delivered.

It’s raining. You should borrow an umbrella from a co-worker.

It would be bad if you got sick.

Love you. Come home soon, honey.

Your boyfriend was a busy man. A colonel at a very young age, in the most influential unit in your city: Skyhaven. You’ve lived together for a year now, and have been together for a bit longer. Somehow, you’ve gotten used to him coming home late. And he’s gotten used to you waiting for him ‘til late. You insist upon it. It’s too cold to ever truly be sleeping without him as your body pillow.

Your eyes are drowsy, threatening to close while your feet fold deeper as you curl into a ball in the chill room, covered in your thin blanket– that the door opens. You perk up immediately, despite the grog settling deep into your skin.

There, Caleb slowly closes the door behind him. His hat, finally coming off as he loosens his collar, sighing. You get up, still wrapped in your blanket and meet him by the doorway. He’s halfway into getting his shoes off when you stand in front of him, barefoot with a pout.

“You’re wet. Did you get my text? You’ll get sick, you big dummy.” You try to wipe the droplets of rain from his shoulders, then his cheeks; which were cold. His hands move up to your wrists, holding them gently.

“I didn’t have time to check my phone. Sorry, honey.” He says, voice low, tired. Then he kisses the inside of your wrist. Your hands being the only thing warming him right now.

You sigh, which ends in a small smile. “It’s okay. You’re home now.”

—

You linger with him a moment longer after that, just breathing in the scent of rain and metal that always clings to his uniform. He moves toward the couch while you pad back into the kitchen, the faint buzz of the TV filling the space again. The sound of him setting down his things, the muted hum of the holo-terminal booting– all so ordinary it makes you smile.

“Did you eat?” You call out while you stir something in a small pot, steam fogging the air.

“Not yet,” he answers, voice distant but gentle.

You grab a plate, already imagining the way he’ll loosen up after a meal and shower. Then the terminal tone pierces through the quiet. It isn’t the usual mellow ping of work updates. This one is sharper, coded. Military-grade. You hesitate mid-step, plate still in your hands. 

“Work again?” You ask, half sigh, half tease.

He doesn’t answer immediately. The air feels heavier now. From the couch, you can see him sit rigid before the screen, its pale light painting his face in washed-out blues.

You wipe your hands on the towel and walk closer. “Hey… you okay?”

He blinks and turns, startled as if he forgot you were there. “Yeah,” he murmurs, forcing a small smile. “Just… something from command. Nothing important.”

“So it’s fine, then?”

He nods, but there’s no conviction in the motion. You can see the storm behind his eyes. Whatever he just read isn’t fine at all.

You cross the short distance between you, laying a hand on his arm. “You can tell me, you know.”

His jaw flexes. For a second, you think he might. But then the soldier in him wins over the man you love. He cups your hand gently and presses a kiss to it instead of answering.

“I will,” he says softly, “once things are handled. Don’t worry tonight, okay? You’ve done enough waiting for me.”

Something in that phrasing sinks cold in you. You want to argue, ask what’s really happening, but he’s already looking past you at the rain-slick window, mind somewhere far away.

“Caleb–”

“It’s fine, honey.” He gives you one of those smiles, reassuring. But lurking with trembles he’s barely hiding. “Really. Just protocol stuff.”

You nod, because you’ve learned to choose your battles. You go back to the table and place the food down between you both, pretending not to notice his eyes dart once more toward the flashing terminal.

Dinner ends in fragments: your laughter too soft, his replies just half-finished. And when he finally excuses himself to “take a call,” you stay on the couch. Watching the reflection of the lamp fade across the empty seat beside you.

From the hallway, you can hear him speaking quietly, voice clipped, controlled. Then silence.

His footsteps return, slower this time. You look up, already knowing you won’t like what’s next. And Caleb almost didn’t have the heart to tell you, especially when you looked at him that way. Your eyes sparkled in a way that made his heart clench. Your breathing so obviously controlled. So he sits beside you despite the large space the couch could offer.

Caleb let his elbows rest on his knees. His eyes on the floor.

“...They need me in Linkon,” he says, words measured but heavy. “But it’s short-term, I promise– a few weeks at most.”

The words hang in the room as he finally looks at you, and you exhale, this time, turning your head away from him; taking his words in.

But you manage a small nod. “Tonight?”

He hesitates, then: “Tomorrow morning.” At least. He should at least spend the night with you.

You smile again. “That’s… soon.”

He brushes your hair behind your ear, before cupping your cheek to make you look at him gently. Thumb brushing against your soft skin, as if memorizing the gesture. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I know,” you whisper, even as something inside you starts to ache. “You always come back.”

—

Days pass. Then weeks. 

You still go to work. Same office. Same blue-gray cubicle walls humming under cheap lights. Your coworkers greet you with practiced smiles and the usual chatter about deadlines and traffic. You smile back, careful not to let the pauses linger — you don’t want anyone asking how you’re doing.  

You tell yourself it’s fine. You’re fine. You’re not really the kind of person who clings too much. Caleb’s job is important and dangerous; you knew that from the start. You repeat it like a mantra every time the communicator on your desk stays silent.

During lunch breaks, your colleagues invite you out for noodles or coffee. You always shake your head with a little laugh. “I’ve got errands,” you say. You don’t. You just can’t stand the thought of burdening anyone with the smallness of how much you miss him.

Evenings are harder.  

The apartment still hums with the quiet habits you shared– his cup in the dish rack, his jacket folded on the chair. You keep reheating leftovers and packing them in containers he’ll never open.

You stop sleeping in bed; it feels too big alone. The couch becomes your spot again, TV buzzing faintly with that same sitcom you’ve seen a dozen times. The laugh track becomes mocking, at some point.

Messages sit half-written in your terminal.

Did you eat?

Don’t forget to rest.

The plants miss youuuu.

Coco puff too.

I miss you, Caleb.

You somehow never hit send. You just stare at the blinking cursor until the screen times out.

Sometimes you think about reaching out to friends– to anyone– but every time your hand hovers over the call icon, you stop. You tell yourself it would be rude, intrusive. They have lives; they don’t need to hear you talk about the weather or how quiet your home’s been. 

By the third week, your sleep pattern collapses. You start leaving lights on all over the apartment, afraid of how Skyhaven– this apartment feels without him. At first, the neighbors ask if you’re alright. Then they stop. And you’re alone again.

One evening– like any other– you hear the faint static pop outside the door. A knock follows. You expect Caleb. And you feel energy burst in your veins, your chest tightens, your heart surges– of course he’s come back, he promised!

“Honey!” You smile, already excited just unlocking the door. “I’m glad–”

The door bursts forward. Metal boots flood over the sound of rain. You barely register the shout before the noise swallows you whole.  

You fight, of course you do. Your heel connects with someone’s leg; a grunt, a shout. There are too many hands. Gloved, cold, inhuman. They shove you against the wall, pin your wrists. 

“Where– who, who are you you– let me go!”

One of them laughs, distorted through a voice modulator. “Funny. He didn’t even tell you, did he?”  

You freeze for half a second, breaths sharp. “Tell me what?”  

The laugh deepens. “That we’d come for you. He got our message and still somehow picked the other one.”

You blink hard as the words fracture through your panic. “What– what.. message?”

The leader raises his visor just enough for you to see his eyes– clinical and detached, yet clearly amused. “We will hurt the person you love most. Ring any bells?”

Your stomach drops, colder than fear. He’s lying. He has to be lying. “You mean… MC,” you say, voice small, trembling. “You went for her– not–” not me. These guys must have made a mistake!

“Oh, no. He made sure we couldn’t get to her.” A short laugh. “Guess he thought she mattered more.”

The words punch straight through your chest. For a second everything– the shouting, the rain, the struggling– fades under a single ringing truth. All the nights you spent waiting, the unanswered messages, the silence that stretched too long. 

He didn’t come back for you.  

He didn’t even think to.

Hands grip your jaw, cold metal pressing against skin. You thrash once, twice, but the strength is leaving you; your thoughts scatter like broken glass.  

The last thing you hear before the needle sinks into the side of your neck is that same voice, calm, almost sympathetic. “You were just the leftover piece, sweetheart. Don’t feel too bad. Wrong place, wrong kind of love.”

Pain blooms white-hot, before it vanishes into nothing.

He’ll come back, you think. As the floor tilts beneath you.

He always comes back.  

Then, a void. 

—

Linkon feels different from Skyhaven. Brighter, louder, endlessly awake even during the night.

Caleb spends the first few nights pretending it’s a temporary reassignment, nothing more. Duty. Safety. Logic. All the things he’s supposed to understand better than anyone.  

MC teases him for how restless he looks at the window. “You’ve been circling around like an idiot for an hour,” she says, handing him a mug of coffee. “Whatever’s on your mind, it’s going to give you wrinkles.”  

He huffs a small laugh. “Wrinkles build the man, pipsqueak.”  

“You don’t need more of that.” She leans against the counter, all casual.

But tonight, it only reminds him of what isn’t here.  

MC tilts her head. “Did you at least let your girlfriend know you got here safe?” He freezes for half a beat. “She knows the protocols,” he says finally.

“That’s not an answer.”  

He exhales. Drops his gaze to the liquid spinning in the cup. The rain on the glass matches its color almost perfectly.  “I didn’t want to worry her,” he mutters, almost to himself.  

MC studies him a moment longer, then shrugs. “You always think that’s protecting people. Maybe… sometimes it’s just shutting them out.”  She softens near the end, knowing her brother can be avoidant of his own feelings.

Her words hang in the air longer than they should.  

When the communicator on his wrist buzzes. And for a moment, his stomach drops, remembering the message that started all this.

It plays back in his head, like a faultline cracking through calm: a voice scrambled by automated distortion flattening it into something both human and not.

We will hurt the person you love most. Soon.

He’d stared at those words while she slept peacefully in their bed, the glow of the screen washing her face in pale light. He’d thought of past ambushes, of reports with MC’s name circled in hazard red, of how she’d been surveilled before because of his link as X-02. Those stupid fucking experiments. 

His years of ‘training’ since he was a child spoke first: calculate probability, reduce emotional interference. MC = high-value target. Logical priority. And he’d spent nearly his whole life with his little sister. Protecting her. They had leverage on her all the time. So it must be her… right?

Soon enough, dawn was spilling through his floor to ceiling windows. You stirred, half awake, murmuring… don’t leave. 

It should’ve been enough to make him stay. But Caleb Xia was built from logic, and logic had saved him too many times to abandon it now.

He blinks, coming back to the present. The mug in his hand trembles. His knuckles ache.

MC is saying something. He doesn’t catch it. The communicator crackles again, this time, louder.

The line crackles with interference, distant voices mixing with the sound of water hitting metal. A neighbor from Skyhaven stumbles through panic, the message choked with static:

“Mr. Xia? I– there was a noise from your building. It was horrible. I think there was a woman screaming. And there were just many suspicious men all rushing through your door and–”

He doesn’t hear the rest.

The mug slips, shattering on tile. Coffee streaks brown across the floor like dried blood.

“Caleb?” MC’s voice reaches him faintly. “What’s going on?”

He’s already moving. Coat. Terminal. Gun. Every instinct flares alive but too late.  

“Fuck, fuck—” His voice shakes as he tries to call you repeatedly. Only to be left on voicemail.

MC tries to follow but he’s already at the door. The wind catches as it closes behind him.

—

His car cuts through the midnight streets, engine roaring against silence. Streetlights smear gold over rain slicks as his mind replays the message in bursts— We will hurt the one you love most. Each phrase now blends with her voice in memory, words he never really answered.

He thought it meant MC.

He thought wrong.

And now, every second between the city’s rings feel like punishment.

—

The ride back to Skyhaven feels endless. He’s lucky to have strings to pull, getting on the train even if the last ride ended hours ago. Rain cuts across the window pane as the scenery changes as he moves past cities. Until eventually, he gets to his neighborhood. Each step makes him nervous as he gets closer to his front door. Mind reeling from what would be behind it.

Caleb tells himself you’re fine. That he’ll arrive and find the call to be exaggerated. Somehow. That he’ll open the door and you’ll laugh at how tightly he’s gripping the handle.

But when the door finally slides open, all sound leaves him.

The apartment is spotless. The faint scent of detergent and ozone hands in the air. The lamp by the couch glows exactly how he remembers it.

And you’re there.

Sitting upright, blanket folded neatly beside you. The TV is off. You’re still, hands resting on your lap as though you’ve been waiting.

When you turn your head and smile, the world clicks into place and falls apart at once. “Honey, you’re home.”

The words are right. But somehow… it’s also wrong.

He drops his things, crossing the room in two quick strides as he locks the door in less than a second. “Are you okay? What happened? The neighbors called and–”

Your gaze follows him a second too slow. “I’m fine. You’re drenched.”

He stops. “There were reports of men.. of a break-in.”

Silence. Then, calm. “No one came.”

He looks around. Not a thing out of place. Even the broken picture frame by the door– the one that fell the week before he left– is fixed.

“You cleaned,” he says softly, stunned. “Of course you did.”

You stand, careful, fluid. “You should shower before you catch a cold. I left dinner out for you.”

He moves to the table. Two plates. His served; yours untouched. The food is warm, impossibly so– as if perfectly timed to his arrival. Caleb badly wants to ask how you knew, but his throat’s too tight.

“I’m sorry,” he says instead. “I should’ve been here. I shouldn’t have–”

“It’s alright.” You lean against the wall near the lamp, eyes unfocused in the half-light. “You’re here now. That’s enough.”

He crosses back to you, rests a hand against your cheek. Warm. Steady. No tremor, no tears. He searches for something familiar in your eyes. He’s not entirely sure what, but he only saw his reflection in your irises. His heart clenches. Still, he wraps you tightly in his arms.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he pleads quietly.

Her lips part just enough for a smile. “Okay, honey.”

He laughs, weakly, relief cracking through his guilt. “You even sound like you’re humoring me. You should be more mad.”

“Why would I be?”

It’s a joke. But you don’t laugh.

When Caleb sists beside you on the couch, the air between them feels heavier somehow, despite his relief. The lamplight hums faintly; the rain outside stopped.

He looks around, the apartment looks exactly like it did the night he left.

But your favorite sitcom wasn’t playing.

Your fingers stay on your lap.

And when he holds your wrist in his bigger hand, your pulse.. beats just a little too slow.

—

At first, he tries to restore normalcy.  

He cooks you breakfast, tells himself the silence between you is comfort, not distance. When you forget to respond to little things– his jokes, the sound of your name– he writes it off as exhaustion. Trauma, maybe. It’s easier that way. Maybe you just missed him too much.

You still call him Honey. Always softly. Always rhythmically timed.

“Good morning, honey.”

“Welcome home, honey.”

“Sleep well, honey.”

The first few days, it still warms him. Then the pattern sets in. Too even, too predictable. Each line lands with the same cadence, the same faint smile that never folds into laughter.

Sometimes he catches you sitting on the couch again. Posture perfectly straight, eyes on nothing. No TV, no sound. Just the glow of the lamp brushing your face like it did that first night. When he calls your name, you turn, apologizing, saying you lost track of time.

He finds you doing it every night. Always at the same hour. Always in the same spot.

A rhythm forms. Morning coffee you don’t really drink, dinner served and cleaned before he can finish, a bed you lie in like a statue. He watches all your movements like a hawk; how your chest rises and falls in precise intervals. 1, 2, 3– breathe. If he didn’t look closely, he’d think you’d been sleeping peacefully.

He clings to that lie.

Because acknowledging the alternative means admitting he left you here to break.

On the seventh night, he comes home early from base. The smell of something faintly sweet hits him as he unlocks the door. For a brief moment, his chest eases– you’re cooking. Moving again.

He follows the smell into the kitchen.

You’re standing by the stove, wooden spoon in hand, stirring something slowly.

“Smells good,” he says, smiling with cautious relief as he comes up behind you and kissing the back of your neck, then hiding his face in the junction of your shoulder breathing you in. “What’re you making?”

“Dinner,” you answer without looking up.

He finally raises his head. The pot is empty. Just reflective metal catching the light in circular motions as the spoon scrapes against it. The sound grates against his nerves. 

“Honey,” he says softly, reaching to still her hand, “it’s empty.”

You blink once, as if waking from a dream. “Dinner’s almost done.” Then you smile, turning back to the pot.

The scrape of metal fills the air again.

He stays the re a moment longer, staring at her profile. The steam that should’ve been rising isn’t there. His throat tightens, words crowding behind it but refusing to come out. 

He backs away slowly, returning to the living room. The rhythm resumes– the scrape, scrape, scrape like a clock ticking a world out of sync.  

That’s when the smaller glitches start appearing. 

Sometimes you repeat yourself mid-conversation, like replaying a moment you forgot to get right. Sometimes you laugh a little too late, or you stop all the sudden, the noise dying in your throat with confusion. 

Once, you burnt your hand on the kettle. The water hisses, but you don’t flinch until he grabs her wrist away.

“(Name), that’s– God, you’re hurt. Let go!” He rushes, getting the kettle off her hand with his gravity Evol, placing it on the counter; before checking your reddening hand.

You look at your skin, then at him, calm as rain. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not. You’re bleeding.”

“It’s fine, honey.” Your tone doesn’t change.

He grips the counter hard enough for his fingers to ache. That phrase– he’s starting to hate how easily it dissolves tension. How easily it can shut him down.

Later that night, lying beside her, he realizes you haven’t called him anything else in weeks. No teasing names. No Caleb. Just one word, one note, replayed in perfect pitch.

And somewhere inside him, the awareness begins to grow.

Whatever came back with him, it isn’t whole.

—

One evening, Caleb brings out an old bottle of wine you’d bought long ago for a night that never happened. He opens it anyway.

The living room feels too quiet without your laughter, so he tries to fill it with stories instead.

“Remember the first time we went to Yuhua Port together?” he starts, voice too light to hide the tremor underneath. “You made friends with that stray cat who kept trying to steal your sandwich.”

You look up from the couch, smiling faintly. “You mean the one near Skyhaven Station?”

He pauses. “No, Yuhua Port. The cat had white patches on its paws, remember? You said they looked like socks.”

You tilt your head, as if searching. “Right. The orange one.”

“It was gray.”

“Was it?” Your laugh is small, uncertain. “I remember orange.”

He laughs too, even though it lands hollow. ““You’ve got the worst memory, you know that?”  

“I guess I do.”  

The pause that follows is heavier than it should be. You still smile, but there’s no flicker of embarrassment, no playfulness– none of the small reactions he knows by heart.  

So he tries another. “Okay, then. What about the place I took you after that? When it rained the whole day.”  

You hum, thinking, but it’s the wrong kind of thinking– measured, deliberate, like piecing something together from a blueprint. “You took me to that café in Linkon.”  

“No,” he says softly. “We stayed in Skyhaven. The little tea place by the docks.”  

“Oh… right.”  

He starts to correct you again, then stops. His throat’s dry, the taste of wine bitter on his tongue. “You’ve just been tired lately. It’s fine.”

“I feel fine.” You reach for his hand, skin against skin, warm and steady. It feels right. The warmth is there, but the pressure is all wrong.

He doesn’t realize he’s staring until you tilt your head.  

“What is it?”  

“Nothing.” He squeezes your fingers gently, forces a smile. “Just thinking how lucky I am.”  

You smile back. “You always say that.”  

“I mean it this time.”  

“So did you, the last time.”  

He laughs, because not laughing would mean falling apart. He refills both glasses though you haven’t touched yours.  

Later that night, as he rinses the empty glass in the sink, he notices there’s no trace of wine in yours. The liquid’s still where he poured it.  

Untouched.  

He stands there for a long time, water running over his hands, until the sound drowns out every thought except one:  

You remember everything, except the parts that make you you. And he doesn’t know how to confront what he’s already suspecting.

—

You hear the door click open before you can stand from the couch.  

The lamp hums, the same low glow as always.  

Caleb steps through the doorway, eyes fever‑bright from exhaustion, rain still clinging to his jacket. You open your mouth, gentle as habit.  

“Honey, you’re–”  

He’s already kissing you.  

It’s rough, starved, more apology than desire. His hands move like a man trying to anchor himself somewhere solid. For a few seconds, you respond exactly as he remembers– arms around him, lips soft, rhythm precise. 

But when he deepens the kiss, something’s missing. No hitch in your breath, no tremor, no warmth rising from somewhere real.  

He pulls back just enough to whisper against your mouth, voice shaking. “Say something.”  

You blink up at him, calm. “You’re home.”  

His forehead presses to yours. “Not that. Please not that.”

You touch his cheek. “You’re tired, honey.”  

He flinches like the words burn. “Stop calling me that if you don’t mean it.”  

“I always–” 

“No, you don’t!” His tone breaks; he’s halfway between a sob and a shout. “You don’t know what you’re saying! You don’t–” He laughs once, sharp, bitter. “And god, I just– I keep pretending that you do.”

Your hands rest on his shoulders, perfectly steady. “I’m here.”  

He steps back, chest heaving. “Yeah. You’re here. Everyone keeps saying that– you, the unit reports, the neighbors…”

You tilt your head, almost curious.

“But they said you were screaming. You were attacked, (Name). But I did everything I could, I tried– I tried to get surveillance, I tried, but everything’s clean and I just. It’s like it never happened and I don’t know what to do, but I know something happened to you, AND I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO!” He bursts out, tears already falling as he ends up screaming the last sentence with no control; pulling at his hair in frustration.

Silence.  

He drags his fingers through his hair, trembling. “They sent me that message. We’ll hurt the one you love most. And I–” The sentence dies, then returns as a whisper: “I thought they meant someone else.”  

You watch him, expression unchanged. “You came back.”  

“Too late.” He laughs again, hysterical now. “Too goddamn late.” He turns away, voice cracking. “I thought I could fix this. That if I just acted like nothing happened, you’d come back to me.”  

“I waited,” you say gently. 

He freezes.  

The words land with unnatural precision. His gaze crawls back to your face, searching for the smallest sign that you understand.  

Your smile doesn’t move. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? For me to wait.”  

Something inside him snaps. He hits the wall with his fist, the sound splintering through the room. “That’s not what I wanted! I wanted you alive!”  

You stay seated, voice soft, almost soothing. “You’re alive. I’m alive. It’s fine.”  

He staggers back toward you, falls to his knees in front of the couch. Tears mix with the leftover rain on his face.  

“I’m so sorry,” he chokes. “I should’ve stayed. I should’ve been here. If I could trade places with you–” His words crumble into breathless sobs.  

You reach out, running your fingers through his hair like you’ve done a thousand times. The gesture is flawless, gentle, empty.  

He melts into it anyway. Because there’s nothing else left.  

Your voice drifts down, tender, practiced:”Honey, you’re home.”

He breaks completely, the sound that leaves him more animal than human.  

You keep stroking his hair, repeating the words until they lose meaning, until only their shape remains in the air– warm, wrong, and endless. 

—

Later.

He doesn’t remember when the crying stopped. Only the weight of your hand in his hair and your voice, soft as static: “Honey, you’re home.” 

When he finally pulls away, you’re still smiling. The expression doesn’t reach your eyes. His heart feels like it’s tearing itself in two.

He spends the next nights trying to repair a ghost.

You let him. You cook. You sit beside him when he falls asleep on the couch. You hold him whenever he wakes up shaking. Everything looks right on the surface– too right. That’s what drives him harder to open the classified files. Dig deeper.

Until finally, he successfully gets the incident log from the night of the attack.

There’s nothing there at first– corrupted data, missing footage– but then a suppressed note hidden under medical reports: subject sustained neuro‑somatic trauma; parasitic interference detected; neural override protocol inhibited due to host deterioration.

His stomach drops.

He scrolls again. Parasite responsive to emotional stress; external removal will induce cortical implosion.

The air leaves his lungs. It explains everything. You blanking out, your recent extreme perfectionism, like a doll. He almost thought it was a Toring Chip just like his, but he finds this much, much worse.

Ever’s experiment. X‑02’s counterpart. They made you into surveillance wrapped in skin.

He looks up from the file to where you’re standing at the sink, humming faintly. It’s the same tune you used to hum when cooking breakfast, except now the tempo never changes. He can’t tell if you’re doing it or the thing inside you is.

“Did they–” he starts, voice barely there, “Did they hurt you before they–”

You turn, wiping your hands carefully on a towel. “It doesn’t matter. You’re home.”

He tries again, words breaking apart. “You know what they did to you, don’t you?”

A flicker in your smile– a tiny tremor. “I know you left.”

He almost staggers under it. “No, I–”

“You always leave. And then you come back and say sorry.” Still calm, still gentle. “It’s fine, honey. I’m used to it.”

He can feel the edges of the parasite now, folded through the cadence of your voice– its mimicry feeding on every emotion you never said aloud. Your resentment. Your exhaustion. Your love stretched thin until it snapped and let something else inside.

He wants to fight. He wants to tear the thing out of you, damn the consequences. But the warning screens pulse behind his eyelids: external removal will induce cortical implosion.

If he fights it, it kills you.  

If he leaves it, he loses you.  

So he does the only thing left.  

He takes your hand. It’s warm, steady, steady in that wrong way. He presses his lips to your knuckles and speaks around the tears that won’t stop falling from his eyes.

“I’ll stay. I won’t go anywhere anymore. I promise.”

You tilt your head, that same patient smile returning. “You always say that.”

“I mean it this time.”

“So did you the last time.”  

He almost laughs. Almost. 

Then he lets you pull him down beside you on the couch. The lamp hums faintly; the night settles into the same rhythm it always has.  

Outside, Skyhaven glows. And a faint thunderstorm bellows. Inside, the two of you sit together in perfect stillness, your head on his chest, as he lays you both down on the couch– both knowing, neither saying. 

Because if he does, you die.  

And if he doesn’t, he’s already dead.

—

Another night, he comes home late.

The lamp is on. You’re on the couch, back straight, hands folded. No TV. No sound.

“Honey, you’re home,” you say.

He hesitates only a second now before crossing the room. He sits beside you, rests his head against your shoulder like he used to. He closes his eyes.

He came home late again. And you were waiting for him, just like always.

[diamonrot]

I’m jealous of MC! (Caleb's Version Pt.1)

Hello Everyone! I thought Sylus' part was long... this version took forever and has two endings! Hope you all enjoy, if not, I tried!!!

Even after being LADS LIs' partner, you can't help, but be jealous of MC. How would the LIs react.

Tags: Minors DNI!!! Canon Divergent, Angst/Comfort, Jealousy, Insecurity, Self-Deprecating Self-Talk, Injury, Depression, Yandere Caleb, Yandere MC, Caleb x MC x Reader, Kinda Pseudocest, Bullying, Self-Harm, Miscommunication, Side Character Death, Swearing, Chubby! Reader.

Please leave feedback or suggestions in comments and/or replies!

Other Versions: Sylus / Rafayel / Xavier / Zayne

Caleb:

“Y/N, I would like you to meet MC and Caleb. They will be living with us from now on.” You remember beaming with joy as your grandma introduced you to your new younger “brother” and “sister”. Both of them stood behind her, gazing at you with large curious eyes. A few years ago, your parents died from a car accident. Since then, you were all alone, besides your grandmother, from your maternal side, who graciously adopted you. So, seeing your new siblings was exhilarating.

“Hi, my name is Y/N.” The two brunettes stood there, quietly continuing to observe you. While looking at their nervous chubby faces, you couldn’t help, but be in awe with their adorableness. “I’m going to be your big sis starting today, is that ok?” They didn’t seem to fully understand, but they nodded hesitantly. You cheered and gave them both a big strong hug. Initially, they paused, unsure of what to do, but quickly recovered and held you back.

You knew immediately, you were going to love them forever.

From that day forward, although you were only a few months older than Caleb, you took the role of eldest daughter, caregiver, and pack leader. Essentially, while your grandma was busy at work, it was your job to watch over them. You would prepare and bring them to school, walk them home after class, or to any extra-curriculars, cook or bake food for them, and help them with any homework they had trouble with. In between, when you all would play together, you would even act as the lead and guide them. Occasionally, Caleb would try to jump in to help MC, but you typically rejected the extra hand. It was too gratifying to you that you finally had people relying and needing you.

In your honest opinion, the first decade with them was magical. Unfortunately, the happy times didn’t last for you. Everything flipped when you all went to high school. When you three became teenagers, all the toys and childhood wonderment were shoved away. Replaced with school politics, and cynicism. The confidence and title from being the eldest seemed to fade as your two younger siblings were thriving, while you struggled to stay a float. 

Both MC and Caleb were popular in your high school. Caleb, known as the Golden Star, was the best player in your school’s basketball team. Constantly being praised for his trick shots. While MC shined alongside him as his twin star, being the fastest runner in track and field, even beating the boys in her team. They both walked the halls proudly, both gorgeous, tall, and angelic. Meanwhile, you, despite previously being the leader of your pack, was relegated to the shadows. Being the ugly duckling sibling meant most people looked down at you either out of malice or pity. Typically, you kept your head down while isolating yourself in the art room during all your breaks. You used to hang out with the other two, but being around them and their clique while everybody besides them ignored you hurt. The loneliness you felt before you had siblings returned, and grew triplefold since now you knew what you were missing.

To add to your pain, you were constantly bullied. Mainly by one girl in the same grade as you with her minions, B/N. You were never sure exactly why. You knew she was a fangirl of Caleb and MC, especially since she was a member of the track and field team. You could only assume she hated your proximity to them. Maybe rightfully believing you didn’t deserve to be associated with your siblings. Either way, it didn’t matter, when she was able to find you, she would poke at every insecurity you had and occasionally, she and her gang would beat you up. Leaving you on the ground with multiple bruises, and cuts, and once before a broken arm.

You were miserable. Your siblings would check on you, especially when you broke your arm, but you always lied. When you got hurt, it wasn’t because you were bullied, you were just clumsy. When you isolated yourself in the art room, it wasn’t because you felt like you were so ugly that nobody wanted you around, it was because you liked the quiet and preferred working on your art than talking to people. When MC caught you one night crying in your sleep, you weren’t depressed. It was because you were thinking of a sad movie you watched on tv. No matter how much they asked, you lied. You were the oldest. It was already a disgrace how less successful you were than them. Also, you didn’t want to burden them. So, you would smile as always in front of them. Hoping they didn’t notice the cracks.

…

“Y/N? Y/N!” You were zoning out and barely noticed Caleb calling you. You looked at your hand and realized there was curry sauce burning your skin. You stepped away from the pot, and went straight to the sink.

“Oww” You groaned as you ran cold water onto your hand, washing away the sauce and soothing the burn. Both MC and Caleb looked at you concerned.

“Are you alright Y/N? It’s like you barely noticed the pain.”

“Oh don’t worry.” You said sing-songy. “I was just thinking about my school assignments.” Another boldface lie. You didn’t feel it because you were so often in pain, you started to go numb. You laughed and tried to change the subject. They replied as normal, but you could see them keeping an extra eye on you. 

“Anyways, back to the curry!” You joked. You moved back to continue stirring the pot, but Caleb intercepted you.

“Sorry Y/N, no food duty for you tonight. You are clearly out of it. I’ll finish it up. Just grab a seat, and MC and I will prepare the table too.” He patted your head, while you formed a fist with your hand. You really were losing your touch. You wanted to argue, but he was right. After B/N and her team kept shoving you today, you weren’t really useful right now.

“Fine!” You made an overexaggerated groan while dramatically sitting down at the dining table, snickering. You looked at MC, but she wasn’t laughing along. Her eyes gazed at you, as though you were a small pitiful creature. You hated that she had to look at you like that now. Ashamed, you couldn’t look up. You busied yourself by tracing the patterns on the dining table as your younger siblings handled the rest. Once, a plate of curry and rice was placed on each person’s spot, the other two sat down. Your grandmother was at a friend’s place, so it was only the three of you tonight. You sat there quietly while mixing your food around. You didn’t have much of an appetite.

“Y/N” For the first time in a bit, you lifted your gaze and locked it to Caleb’s purple ones. “Are you feeling alright?” You did your best to give a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, you know, school assignments as usual.” You saw him squint his eyes before smiling back at you. Did he know you were lying?

“If you need help, you know you could always come to me right Y/N?”

“Yeah of cour-”

“Me too Y/N!” MC added on, smiling on the edge of her seat. You giggled. Your heart warmed and felt a bit lighter.

“I appreciate you both, but I promise you, I am fine.” Caleb pursed his lips, before continuing.

“Alright” Caleb was about to put a spoonful of curry in his mouth, when he suddenly put his spoon down. “Oh I just remembered! Y/N, are you busy after school tomorrow?” You never were busy besides school work, but you still took a moment to “think”.

“I shouldn’t be why?” MC reached for your hand that was resting on your lap and held it in hers’.

“Caleb and I were thinking of going to the amusement park after school tomorrow. It’s been so long since we’ve been there!” A grin crept on your face as you recalled loving going to the park with them. Memories of riding in the front row of all the rollercoasters, eating cotton candy, mini donuts and turkey legs, and playing the games in the booth. All those sweet memories filled you with joy. So as your smile disappeared, you couldn’t help, but dread the idea of ruining those happy memories by having to experience feeling left out again in a former place of joy.

“I don’t know, I might just come straight home tomorrow. To, you know, finish more school assignments.” MC pouted, tightened her grip on your hand, and moved it closer to her chest.

“Please Y/N, you need a break!” You sighed. You really didn’t want to go.

“It's okay, I wouldn’t want to ruin the fun for you guys and your friends. Just bring some mini donuts home please.” Caleb chortled and asked:

“If I told you it was just going to be the three of us, would you agree to go?” Your initial dread disappeared and was replaced with an excitement you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Really? Are you sure you don’t want to go with your friends?” Both your siblings' smiles widened. MC started to bounce.

“Of course Y/N! It’s been so long since we hung out just the three of us. Please say yes!” The offer was too good to refuse.

“Alright, let’s go after school!”

For once, you were actually looking forward to the next day.

…

After dealing with another standard school day: boring classes, feeling like a loser, being bullied, you finally made it to the end. As you three planned, you waited outside for them, sitting at a nearby bench. You were supposed to meet at the front of the school and go to the amusement park together. Unfortunately, just after you left the building, you got a text from Caleb:

“Ayo Big S! Sorry, MC and I need to help clean the gym before leaving. We’ll be out soon, just wait outside :)!

It was a bit disappointing, but it didn’t cloud your anticipation. You just texted back a thumbs up and continued to wait. As the minutes ticked on, you started to feel restless. You weren’t worried they ditched you, but what if they got busy, or they needed help? So, you got up from your seat and headed to the gymnasium. As usual, the back door of the gym was open to let some breeze inside. Before you could walk in, you heard Caleb and MC talking with someone. Leaning your head closer to the door, you realized they were talking to your bully, B/N. You felt an ache in your heart. As they spoke, they seemed friendly with each other. You didn’t know they were buddy buddies with your tormentor.

“I just don’t understand how you both deal with her all the time. Honestly, I feel bad.” B/N jested sinisterly. “I mean she makes you both look bad.” You could feel your body going cold.

Are they talking about me?

You could hear MC laugh.

“Well, unfortunately, you don’t get to pick your family. Right Caleb?” Caleb snickered back.

“True, though technically she was pushed onto us. Still, Y/N can be a lot.” B/N chortled disgustingly.

“She’s more than a lot. She’s honestly a complete loser. Thank God you guys aren’t actually blood-related. Imagine having her genes! Oh man!” The three of them cackled together, as though it was some joke and not them putting down your entire being. Tears immediately welled up in your eyes and your lips quivered. You knew everyone believed you were below your “siblings”. However, your poor heart couldn’t have imagined MC and Caleb also thought so as well. They were your family, your sanctuary. You loved them, and always saw the best in them. Were you so pathetic that even the people who were supposed to love you, hated you? 

You were frozen in place for a while. It felt like your mind was shutting down. The life that you knew as a beloved big sister was all a lie. You truly were meant to be alone. Continuing to hear the banter between them, you could no longer understand what they were saying. Their mocking all became white noise. You stood there for what felt like hours until you heard footsteps approaching. You couldn’t look at them right now. If you did, you thought you might throw up. 

Hence, you ran. You ran as fast as you could to get away from everything, especially your “siblings”. Once you made it home, you went straight to your room and locked the door. Finally out of sight, you started to violently cry and shake. You couldn’t understand how you could be so dumb.

Article after article of clothing, you stripped off your body. You wanted to change into your pajamas, and rot in bed, but your eyes wandered to your body length mirror. The more of your nude body you could see, the more disgusted you felt.

Why am I so stupid and ugly?!

You glared at the fat, ugly, short figure in the mirror.

How could I think I would have ever been adored by them?

You were suddenly filled with unbridled rage. At B/N, at them, at yourself. The anger, the rage, the resentment, the hurt. It was too much, you had to feel anything else. You had to punish yourself. Punish your idiocy. You raised your hand to your face and slapped yourself. You felt a harsh sting to your cheek, but you didn’t care. You slapped yourself over and over, until your face and the palm of your hand turned red. Everything hurt. You crumbled to the ground and continued to cry. Large tear drops fell from your eyes as you curled into yourself. 

You were completely engulfed in your grief, until you heard the familiar ping from your phone. You took your device out of your pocket, and saw you received multiple texts from Caleb. They were sent 30 mins ago.

“Hey Big S, where are you? We don’t see you outside?”

“Big S, where are you?~ Did you still want to go to the park?”

“Are you okay? Why aren’t you answering?”

“I see your location is at home. Did you want us to pick you up?”

“I’m starting to get worried, please answer.”

You wanted to make them suffer and not answer a single text. Sadly, you knew, they probably wouldn’t care anyways, and all you wanted was for them to leave you alone. You sent a short text:

“Go without me. Staying home.”

A bubble with three dots flashed on the screen multiple times. Until he answered back.

“Are you feeling unwell? We could go another time?”

Why are they so adamant to keep pretending? Do they find sick pleasure in watching me act like an idiot?

You sent another message.

“I don’t want to go anymore. Go by yourselves.”

There was a brief pause before a new message popped up.

“Oh okay. Take care alright. Let us know if you need anything. We love you Y/N”

Lying bastards!

You threw your phone at the wall while yelling. How dare they continuously lie to you. Again and again telling you they cared and loved you, while saying those terrible things behind your back. Did they always feel this way? How did it take you so long to realize, they were two faced snakes. You continued to yell and stomp around until all you could feel was exhaustion. Tired, you put your pajamas on and crawled to bed. You couldn’t really sleep, your mind swirling from the betrayal, but you remained covered in your blanket, staring blankly at your white wall.

You didn’t know how many hours passed, but after a while, you heard someone knocking on your door. You didn’t dare move or respond.

“Y/N, are you okay?” It was Caleb’s “worried” voice behind it. You didn’t answer. 

“Y/N, what’s going on? Please just say you’re okay.” You continued your silence, even when you heard the doorknob moving erratically.

“Y/N Please. If you don’t respond, I’ll kick down this door on 3, 1-”

For F*ck sakes!

You immediately sat up and responded:

“I’m fine, go away!” The rattling and knocking stopped. 

“Are you mad at us?” You didn’t respond. You heard a sigh before he continued:

“I’m not sure what we did wrong, but we can always talk when you feel ready. Also, we got you the mini donuts you love. They are downstairs, I can bring some up for you.” The dissonance between how they were with you, and B/N was alarming. If they could act so lovingly, what else have they been lying about? Unless, was this a ploy to make you fatter?

“I don’t want them!” You blurted out. “I’m ugly and fat enough. Eat them or throw them away.” There was a pause before you heard the knob turning again. You groaned.

“Y/N, who said that about you? I swear you aren’t. Can you let me in so we can talk face to face please?” His “big brother” schtick was getting old.

“Why don’t you talk to B/N instead! Clearly, you and MC love her more than me. Even after she treats me like complete sh*t!” In retaliation, you threw a pillow at your door. You heard Caleb cuss under his breath.

“Listen, I don’t know what you heard earlier, but I swear to you, everything MC and I do is to help you. We would never-”

“You know what Caleb. Shut the f*ck up! I’m done with you and MC. Leave me the hell alone!” You waited in silence for a few minutes, before concluding he left.

Good, I’m not gonna let them trick me anymore.

You felt an inkling of pride until you heard a soft answer:

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Your heart shattered again. The defeated tone of his apology reminded you of the boy who used to be smaller than you. With his brown shaggy hair, looking at you with the largest puppy eyes as he begged your forgiveness. It hurt, but you had to remind yourself. They aren’t those little kids you loved anymore nor were you their big sister.

…

A week passed, and you refused to go to school. All you did all day was lie in bed, under the sheets. Besides leaving the room for food when nobody was home, you stayed locked inside. The curtains on your windows were always drawn, making the room pitch black. While ruminating, one thought stayed on your mind: perhaps a failure like you shouldn’t exist. The first few days, Caleb and MC tried reaching you from behind the door, but you never answered. Even when you heard MC sobbing and begging for your forgiveness, you didn’t. You just told them to leave you alone, which they fortunately did. The only disturbance currently was when Caleb would slide your homework under your door. You never peeked at them.

On Friday, while you continued to stay in bed, you heard a softer knock than usual.

“My love, it’s me. We need to talk.” Melancholy, for the first time in a while, you opened your door for someone. Outside of it, was your frail grandma Josephine. Your eyes teared up seeing her concerningly smile at you. 

You let her inside, offered her your desk chair and sat on the bed.

“Thanks for checking on me Grandma.” You started. “I’ll go back to school next week. I just couldn’t because, well a lot happened and-” She put her hand on top of yours, and you closed your mouth.

“Do you remember a classmate of yours named B/N?” You felt irked. Why is everyone obsessed with this girl recently? Coldly, you answered:

“Yes, why?” She put a newspaper next to you. You grabbed the paper, and read the headline:

18 year old student, B/N from Linkon High, was found dead at her school. Her body was discovered at the bottom of a stairwell. The time of death is presumed to have been a few days before her body was discovered early this Monday. Police have not confirmed whether they believe it was foul play, or not.  

Your mouth and eyes hung agape as you read the news. Your tormentor was dead. You felt disgusted with yourself, but knowing she was gone filled you with a sickening glee. One asshole gone from this world.

“That’s terrible.” You tried to say sullenly. 

“It is, and very troublesome my dear. You see there’s been rumors involving you spreading around.” You paled.

“Rumors? People don’t think I did it, do they?” Josephine sighed.

“Unfortunately, that is what is currently believed. Especially since you haven’t been in school since last week. Everyone is suspicious.” You could feel your body trembling. 

“Do you believe I did this Grandma?” She stroked your cheek with a tearful look in her eyes. 

“Of course not. You are too sweet to do this, but my opinion doesn’t matter. This extra attention isn’t safe for any of us. You remember what I told you about where MC and Caleb came from?”

You recalled the brief stories of horrible experiments done by EVER, and how both MC and Caleb survived. You used to admire them so much for all they endured. It made you want to protect them more. Now you wondered, were they messed up so bad, they couldn’t feel basic empathy or real love? Or was it just you they couldn’t care about?

“I remember? But what does that have to-”

“I need to ask you to leave Linkon.”

“What but-”

“If too many eyes start looking at our family, especially the authorities, it may lead EVER to discovering MC and Caleb. All our lives can be in danger, so Y/N please.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Y/N please-” You stood up from your seat, your rage firing up.

“That’s not fair! I’m your actual granddaughter. I was here first, why can’t you send them away! They are old enough!” You could see your grandmother’s face twisted into deeper pain.

“Because Y/N, they don’t have anyone else to go to. I can send you to your father’s brother in Chansea. They are already aware of the situation. You just need to pack up your stuff, they are coming to pick you up today-” Tears started to fall from your eyes.

“It’s not fair. You already made the choice for me! It’s not fair!” You fell to your knees and put your face on her lap desperately. “Please Grandma, please don’t send me away. I love you, I’ve never met my aunt and uncle, you are the only person who loves and knows me, please. Don’t throw me away, I want to stay with you please.” You could hear her sniffle, but you were too scared to see the look on her face. She petted your hair before continuing: “I do love you, but this is the only option I can see to save us all. Please Y/N, we’ll keep in touch, and I’ll give you the money you need to continue your education. Y/N I love you, but-” You stared desperately into your grandmother’s eyes.

“Did Caleb and MC agree to this?” She briefly looked down, before firmly answering:

“Yes.” You couldn't breathe. It shouldn’t have surprised you that they also wanted you gone, but you felt the last string of familial connection between all of them with you snap. Maybe that was for the best. Who needed them anyway? You got up from the ground, wiped your tears, and walked to your closet.

“Okay, I’ll leave.”

…

7 Years Later…

After you moved to Chansea, your life changed dramatically. Once you changed your identity. Going by your middle name, and your father’s last name instead, you were no longer weighed down by the shackles of being in your former family’s shadow. You graduated high school with high grades and moved out of your relatives’ house (as they insisted). After that, with a scholarship, you started to study at the Chansea Institute of Technology and pursued a diploma in Baking and Pastry Arts. During those 2 years, you studied as hard as you could, and graduated top of your class.

As time passed, the pain and betrayal from your family started to simmer away, to cold indifference. You found yourself able to smile again and to even allow yourself to be loved again. While you studied, you met Charlie, another baking student from your school. Initially, you both were just friends, but after a few years, you started officially dating. After a month of dating, he quickly asked you to be his girlfriend and to move in with him, and you agreed. You moved into his downtown apartment, and you both worked at his family’s bakery in the same building. It wasn’t perfect. You didn’t feel the same passion as you did with Caleb and MC with Charlie, but he was steady, kind, and gentle. More importantly, you felt safe, and finally content. 

You were satisfied enough to have your life remain this way, but not Charlie.

“M/N, please.”

“I don’t know Charlie. I already told you about how I feel about moving back to Linkon. I don’t want to be anywhere near my adopted family.” You didn’t share with Charlie the details about your family’s involvement with EVER, or what happened between you and your siblings. You just generalized and told him you and your family were on bad terms.

“But my parents are giving us an amazing opportunity! We have a chance to own my family’s bakery in Linkon together! Please, I understand your hesitance, but things have changed, look.” He gave you his phone, and on the screen was an obituary. For Josephine and Caleb. You felt shocked. You didn’t have a single clue of their deaths. You were expectedly not notified. As you read through, it mentioned an unexplained explosion killed them. You felt a pang in your chest. You stayed silent, thinking of what this could mean. Should you go to their funeral? Visit MC? No, nobody would want you there. 

Your heart felt heavy. Despite what they did to you, they were still once your beloved grandmother and "brother". Still, as much as their death hurt, it may mean you could move back to Linkon, your home, with no challenge. You kept an eye on B/N’s case and it was put as a horrible accident, with you no longer a suspect. This could be your chance to finally get everything you wanted despite all you’ve suffered. You placed your hand on Charlie’s shoulder.

“Alright Charlie, I’m in.”

…

Months after your discussion, you both packed up your stuff and moved to Linkon. Being back, seeing the familiar spots you used to scurry around as a kid, filled you with painful nostalgia. It was painful, but you were adamant about not letting your past control you any longer. With Charlie, you both managed his family’s bakery, and it was a tremendous success. Being praised by critics and customers alike. 

Everything was going smoothly. Your bakery was a success and no MC in sight, but even then, you kept looking over your shoulder. You couldn't help but feel paranoid. You felt eyes constantly watching you. Sometimes, those eyes looked purple and familiar, but you blamed your damaged mind.

After a year passed, the paranoia diminished. Thoughts of your past barely popped up. Instead, you started to think of further possibilities: marriage, your bakery’s expansion. Unfortunately, you had no clue, your past would come barrelling back.

…

For the last week, Charlie had been complaining of feeling unwell. You noticed, this day in particular, he was worse than normal. He seemed paler and shaky. After you offered, he decided to stay home for the day. The loss of Charlie’s help made work at the bakery harder than normal, but, you were happy to deal with the extra load. You only hoped your boyfriend was able to rest. 

After your bakery closed for the day, to surprise him, you left a note for customers to notify them the bakery would be closed the next day as well and you bought his favorite chicken soup from the deli next door. You wanted to surprise him, and spend tonight, and the whole day tomorrow spoiling him. It was gloomy remembering how you used to do the same for MC, or Caleb, but that didn’t deter you. Why should you stop being your caring self because of them?

When you entered the apartment, it was dark and quiet. It was a bit unsettling since your partner typically kept your living area the opposite. Still, you weren’t alarmed. He’s sick and probably in bed sleeping. You went straight to your kitchen and warmed up the soup in a pot. Once it was hot, it was time to get your beloved to eat.

“Honeyyyy, I’m home! I bought your favorite soup! Come eat.”

No response.

Maybe he’s knocked out on cold medicine.

“Honeyyy, are you going to make me pull you out of bed?” 

Nothing. You sighed and walked to the only light on besides the one in the kitchen, the lamp in your shared bedroom.

“Honey!” You called, still no response, but you heard shuffling.

Is he finally up?

You finally entered your bedroom, but the moment you entered, your heart dropped and you blanched. Charlie was nowhere in sight. Instead, Caleb and MC were sitting on your bed.

“Hello Big Sis, it’s been awhile.” Caleb greeted with a sinister smirk.

How would you like this to end?

Forever the three of you?

or

Forever his alone?

[diamonrot]

I’m jealous of MC! (Zayne's Version)

Hello Everyone! Honestly, I would say out of all the versions of the "I'm Jealous of MC!" I think this is the most self indulgent. So, sorry, this is apparently specifically for me. Hope you all enjoy, I sure did! I'm happy to finally be done the series! Thank you everyone who kept reading!

Even after being LADS LIs' partner, you can't help, but be jealous of MC. How would the LIs react.

Tags:  Minors DNI!!! Self-Esteem Issues, Negative Self Talk, Anxiety, Attempt at Medical Speak (Sorry, I’m BSing it all with Google), Horrible Description of a Dancing Class (I’ve only been to a few classes before, sry), Chubby!Reader x Dr. Zayne, Fluff, Unaware and Socially Awkward Reader, Greyson x MC, Dawnbreaker x Y/N Angst (Towards the end)

Please leave feedback or suggestions in comments and/or replies!

Other Versions: Sylus / Rafayel / Caleb / Xavier

Zayne:

“I need a man like that.” You muttered to yourself as you sat on one of the benches in Akso hospital’s garden. You were all alone, eating your pathetic tuna sandwich you made just before your appointment this morning, when suddenly a gorgeous couple appeared. Right across from you, was a handsome, tall, raven haired, and hazel-green eyed man dressed in a lab coat walking around with a bombshell of a woman. The woman had a slender and sculpted figure, fair skin, brown hair and eyes, and was strapped in what seemed to be a hunter’s uniform. You almost gasped when you laid eyes on them. They were both stunning. It was as though you were witnessing a romantic drama in real life. 

You tried not to watch, but your gaze followed their angelic presences. You watched as the doctor and hunter walked the garden, chatting and laughing together. You even noticed the man momentarily glancing yearningly at the huntress when she wasn’t looking back. You couldn’t help, but sigh from your own self-pity. When were you going to meet your super hot and rich doctor boyfriend that looked at you that longingly? 

If you stayed longer, you would have probably kept starring, but luckily your phone alarm snapped you out of your trance. It was time for your appointment. You left the garden, and headed straight to your doctor’s office, Dr. Greyson’s. Typically, the doctor didn’t have many patients in his regular roster. He was more focussed on cardiac surgeries and his job as an assistant to the renowned Chief Cardiac Surgeon and Deputy Chief of Surgery at Akso Hospital, Dr. Zayne Li. However, he made an exception for you because of your status as his childhood friend. A friendship that spanned a decade. Though despite you both being close, you hadn’t met him in person since he started medical school. In fact, your appointment would be the first time you’ve seen him face to face for a long while. You were nervous, especially with the recurring heart palpitations you’ve been experiencing. What if things were awkward between you both? Or worse, what if you were dying?!

With your nerves high, you walked into the surgery department and spoke with the receptionist. She was a young brunette in a nurse uniform with a sweet looking face. As she checked you in, you couldn’t look into her friendly eyes. You’ve always had issues with eye contact. To ease your nerves, you stared at the nurse’s name tag instead. Once she finished, she gave you back your IDs, and kindly instructed you on where to go. You nodded timidly and replied: “Thanks Yvonne.”

She smiled cheerfully back as you left to head to Greyson’s office. As you faced the office’s door, you were hit with another wave of anxiety. You found your hands shaking as you reached for the doorknob.

Come on Y/N, you can do this! There is nothing to be nervous about, Greyson is one of your closest friends.

You took a deep breath, and opened the door. You expected to be greeted the moment you went inside, but instead you were greeted by a quiet and empty room. Your doctor wasn’t currently in.

He’s probably busy doing something else. 

Him not being there didn’t bother you, in fact it was a relief since it gave you time to adjust to the new space. Here on your own, you decided to explore around. Unfortunately, the room was pretty bareboned. Barely any decor was inside, only the standard hospital posters, and the teddy bear you remembered Greyson loved so much as a kid. 

“Dang Greyson, you really need to add more color in your office.” With nothing new to see, you sat on the examination table and waited for almost half an hour. Mainly passing your time by scrolling on your moment’s page on your phone, though a part of you whispered that you must have made a mistake with your appointment. Before you could continue to question your memory, you heard a knock on the door.

“Can I come inside?” The voice was deep and stoic, nothing like Greyson’s.

“Uh, sure!” The office door opened, and instead of seeing the brown shaggy haired man with the wire frame glasses as you expected, it was the black haired doctor you watched earlier in the gardens. Your heart began to race.

Oh no, why is he here? Where is Greyson? I look like a mess, oh man this is so embarrassing. I need to leav-

“Good afternoon Ms. L/N. I am Dr. Zayne Li-”

The renowned Chief Cardiac Surgeon and Deputy Chief of Surgery of Akso Hospital, Dr. Zayne Li?! First off, I didn't know Zayne would be this hot and young. Also, why is he here, oh no am I dying? Why would-”

As you panicked and blanched, Dr. Zayne had stopped his introduction and instead placed his hand on your shoulder. He probably wanted to soothe you, but his cool touch made you even more flustered.

“I don’t mean to alarm you Ms. L/N. I am just here to cover Dr. Greyson for your appointment. Unfortunately, his morning surgery is taking longer than anticipated. Since I was free, I offered to handle his appointment with you. However, if you are uncomfortable, I can send you back to Yvonne to schedule another time when Dr. Greyson is free.” 

You shook your head vigorously. After gathering the courage to come here to figure out what was happening to your heart, you couldn’t back out.

“I’m okay, thanks for the offer.” Dr. Zayne replied with a small soft smile before sitting down on the desk chair.

“Alright, so I read his notes that you came in because you mentioned having heart palpitations. Is that correct?” “That’s correct. I’ve been experiencing them for the last year on and off. It’s been worrying me a lot.”

“And have you been feeling any pressure, or pain in your chest?”

“No.”

“How about dizziness, or shortness of breath.”

“A bit, but I’m not sure if it’s really bad.”

“I see. Now, I’ll need to listen to your heart.” Dr. Zayne stood up and approached with his stethoscope in hand. “Could you lift up your shirt for me?” You could feel your cheeks heating up, but still you did as instructed. You lifted your shirt, exposing your bra covered chest and flabby stomach. You were shy showing him your most insecure spots, but Dr. Zayne didn’t react. He only gave a quiet thank you for your assistance, before continuing. He put the stethoscope’s eartips in his ears and pressed the metal round piece to your chest. It was cold and made you involuntarily shiver.

“Take a few deep breaths and try to remain as calm as you can.” You took a deep breath, but feeling the chill from the metal didn’t let you relax. It also didn’t help being able to see the golden specks on the irises of the doctor’s hazel green eyes as the man looked down at your chest. You gulped and closed your eyes, praying your heart rate wasn’t skyrocketing. After a minute, he removed the piece from your chest and returned the stethoscope to his neck.

“Thank you again, though I must ask, do you have white coat syndrome?” Your heart started to race and your eyes became saucers.

What does that mean? Am I dying?

Dr. Zayne gazed at you concerningly.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to scare you with that question. I just asked because some patient’s readings come up more elevated than normal in clinical settings. That’s what white coat syndrome means.” You laughed at your own ridiculousness.

“With how embarrassingly I’ve been acting, probably.” The doctor’s gentle smile returned.

“Don’t be embarrassed Ms. L/N. A lot of people get nervous around doctors. Especially with my face, I am aware I can be intimidating.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your face, it’s a very nice one!” 

Why did I say that?

The young doctor looked down briefly, the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Thank you” He answered hesitantly before coughing. “Now back to business. I think I may be able to give you some answers.” He sat back down on the desk chair. “Considering your answers earlier, and looking through the results from the monitor they requested you to wear for 24 hours and your journal, I might have a possible source of them.”

You felt your heart skip again.

“What is it?”

“Anxiety and stress.” You immediately exhaled and slumped. You were ashamed, you were scared and made all this effort for something so mundane.

“Are you sure?”

“We could do further tests to double check, but each heart palpitation was attached to a moment of high levels of stress. I can prescribe you a Benzodiazepine, or a medication that can help with you.” You groaned.

“I don’t really want to take any, but if it’ll help.” The doctor turned around, began writing on a prescription form on the desk, turned back and handed it to you. Looking down at the piece of paper, you realized Zayne must be perfect at everything. Most doctors’ handwritings are messy and unreadable, Zayne’s resembled calligraphy.

“This is an initial dose, but if needed, we can increase, or decrease the prescription. I would recommend checking back with Dr. Greyson every few months.” 

“Thank you, but I wanted to ask. Are there other things I can do to help lessen my anxiety and stress?” Dr. Zayne pinched his chin, before looking back at you and answering:

“There are numerous things you can do. You can implement more exercise in your routine, you can add activities that will help you relax, and another great resource is seeing a mental health professional, or a therapist. Hopefully one of these will be helpful to you.”

You nodded, grateful for the help.

“I’ll give those a try. Thank you doctor.”

—

After your appointment, you trudged into your dark and small apartment and went immediately to your bedroom. You groaned as you undressed and put on your fuzzy pajamas in front of your mirror. As you stared at your reflection, slowly removing your clothes, you realized you no longer recognized the woman. For the last few years, you’ve been coasting. Following the flow and immersing yourself completely in your schooling and now work. Unfortunately, while pursuing your career, you let yourself go. You’ve gained weight, looked sloppy, and didn’t have many friends, or family you could rely on. Today, looking at the gorgeous couple and your appointment was your wake up call. You didn’t want to keep neglecting yourself. You had to start working to mold yourself into the woman you know you should be. A woman that would finally be desirable and deserving.

“Come on Y/N.” You muttered to yourself as you grabbed your laptop. “Time to start your new life.”

—

A Week Later…

You ran as fast as you could from the parking lot to your gym. You couldn’t believe after hyping yourself the whole week before, even wearing the cutest gym set you had, you were about to be late for your first drop-in Dance class. Once in the building, you scanned your gym card, and jogged to the recreation room where your lesson was being held. Luckily, you were only a few minutes late when you entered the room. At that time, the class hadn’t started. Most of the participants were scattered around, chatting. You sighed in relief and quickly sifted through the large crowd of students to find a spot for you to dance. You finally found a space, and stood upright in it. 

“Welcome everyone to Beginner’s Dance! First, we will start our stretches!”

As instructed flamboyantly by the teacher at the front, you started stretching when you heard a familiar voice next to you call. You froze.

“Ms. L/N?” You looked at the source of the voice in shock.

“Dr. Zayne?!” The last man you wanted to see was standing right next to you, wearing a white long-sleeved compression top that accentuated his large biceps and pecs and grey jogging pants that showed off the rest. He looked absolutely stunning. He put on a friendly smile and shifted his body towards you as he continued his own warm-up.

“Seems you have followed my advice.” You awkwardly giggled and blushed.

“Yeah, I did. Thank you again for giving the advice to me.”

“No thanks needed, I was just doing my job.” You tippy toed closer to him.

“Though I am curious, why would you join a dance class? Stress?” Zayne rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yes, and I was recommended by MC to go. She said I was “stiff”.” He emphasized moving his fingers to create the quotation mark. You laughed.

MC must be his girlfriend.

“Well it’s always good to listen to your girlfriend. You know what they say, happy wife, happy life!” The doctor raised an eyebrow at your remark.

“MC and I-”

“Alright class, time to start our first track!” Your attention was immediately redirected from the man next to you to the lady in the front. “Alright, to those who are new, just follow my steps.” As she finished talking, upbeat music began to fill the room from the speakers. Your heart thumped along to the rhythm.

“One” The instructor took two steps.

“Two” The instructor waved her arms.

“Three” The instructor twirled around with her arms in the air.

“Your turn!” You slowly followed the same moves and it felt easy. You felt momentarily exhilarated before the teacher’s pace went faster and faster. Suddenly, you could no longer catch up. You wobbled your body around trying to match the instructor’s movement, but your clumsy steps were not matching the professional’s at all. Occasionally, you glimpsed at the man next to you, and although Zayne seemed winded as well, he was matching the teacher’s pace and moves, looking radiant from the glow from his sweat.

HOW???!!!

You were embarrassed by your stiff movements, but you had to at least finish.You kept going, but you suddenly felt a gravity shift.You cried a faint “Ah” before falling. Going backwards, you thought you would feel the wooden floor, but instead you felt two strong muscled arms holding you up from behind. You were left out of breath.

“Are you alright Ms. L/N?” Zayne caught you! Your face turned red as you could feel his solid pecs on the back of your head.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, let me go please.” 

“Of course.” Holsting you up by your armpits, he effortlessly lifted you up and back on your feet. 

Wow.

You were impressed, but mostly mortified. All of it made worst by your instructor’s holler:

“Great improvisation you two! I promise more partner dances in the next tracks.” You and Zayne turned to each other. The doctor mouthed: “Partner dances?”

—

After the last track ended, you were left exhausted, slumped and struggling to breathe. Meanwhile, Zayne stood nearby taking a few heavy breaths of his own. The doctor was clearly in great shape.

“Alright, now I want you all to partner up. The next tracks will require a partner.” Your heart dropped. It reminded you of gym class all over again. You panicked as you looked around the room, hoping you could find another chubby shy girl like you on the side lines. Then unexpectedly, you felt a tap on your shoulder. It was the tall man next to you.

“The teacher already announced us as partners, do you want to continue partnering up with me?” Zayne asked earnestly. You were nervous partnering up with the intimidating figure, but if he was willing why not?  

“Sure” You answered nervously, inching a bit closer to him.

“Wow what beautiful couples!” The instructor praised as she clapped and looked at you and Zayne’s direction again. Your face reddened more from the comment. “Alright, so the first step, leads! Put one of your hands on your partner’s back and your other hand should be clasping your partner’s.” Taking the lead position, Zayne walked to you cautiously.

“Before I start, are you alright with me touching you?” Zayne asked, staring deeply into your eyes. You were incredibly anxious, but you were resolved to not let your fear get the best of you as per usual.

“Go ahead Doc.” The man smiled at you and did as what was instructed. Your heart started to pound as your bodies closed in and his hands held your back and hand. You involuntarily shivered from his cool touch.

“Are you still ok?” Zayne asked with a worried look on his face. His proximity and concern was too intimate.

“I got this!” You responded with an exaggerated thumbs up from your clasped hand, pulling another grin from the stoic man.

“Wonderful!” The instructor continued. 0Your hand moved to land on his shoulder, but you paused.

“Are you alright with me touching you?” Zayne snickered. 

“Of course Ms. L/N.” You placed your palm on his sturdy shoulder, resisting the urge to squeeze.

“Alright fantastic! Now, follow me.” The instructor, pretending to be dancing with an invisible partner, simulated the moves. “First, we will sway, sway, twirl, dip.” You grinned hesitantly at Zayne, worried your weight may break his back as he dipped you, but Zayne didn’t appear to have the same concern as you. Confidently, he guides you through each move, swaying and twirling with you in his arms. Then when he dipped you, he showed no sign of struggling. His strength left you amazed. A small “wow” escaped your lips, before you recovered and you dramatically lifted your connected arms. After the dip, he pulled your body close to his. You swore you couldn’t breathe looking up at his sharp face.

“Zayne I-”

“Now faster!” Zayne guided you back to your original position and moved with you more quickly. Though the speed didn’t help. Like before, your clumsy movements couldn’t catch up. On one turn, you accidentally stepped on your partner’s toes. Zayne hissed in pain and you immediately bowed apologetically, though your bow accidentally hit him in the chest.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” Zayne laughed and smiled wider than you’ve ever seen.

“It’s alright, let’s keep going.” You returned his pep and continued on. Your new attitude didn’t stop you from fumbling, but there was no space for shame, only laughter and warmth between the two of you. After a quick hour, the class ended, and you sadly had to let the man out of your hold. Your proximity together was so brief, but you found yourself already missing being in his arms. However pathetic that may be. You shyly peeked at him, and while swaying back in forth said goodbye:

“I really enjoyed dancing with you Dr. Zayne, take care!” The doctor made a small nod towards you.

“You as well, Ms. L- I mean Y/N.” You couldn’t help the dorky smile on your face when he called you by your first name. He waved hastily at him.

“BYE!”

—

When you returned home, you couldn’t help the ecstasy you felt. You found yourself dancing on your own replaying the memory of being in his embrace. Though slowly, your bliss decayed to shame. You sighed melancholically. You had a huge crush on the stoic gentle man, but you shouldn’t. He already had a girlfriend. A girlfriend who was significantly better than you, and who he chose and loved. 

“Oh well.” You murmured to yourself. Again, as you did last week, you grabbed your laptop and searched online. You enjoyed the dance class today, but it was mostly because of Zayne. You could feel your heart yearning to see him again, but you refused to be a homewrecker (even though you knew he would never choose you over his beautiful lover anyways). Still, despite your 0% chance with him, you knew it was wiser not to entertain this relationship further.

“Time to look for a new class to join.”

—

One Week Later…

“Welcome to Baking 101, thank you all for joining! Now please pick a baking station and partner up.”

Partners again?!

You groaned as you watched all the participants quickly form into teams, leaving you alone. You couldn’t understand why you needed a partner. You were decent enough at baking, you could work alone. As the instructor walked around, you raised your hand, getting her attention. She came closer to you the moment she noticed your hand.

“Yes?” The older woman in a wool sweater asked inquisitively.

“There is nobody else here who can be my partner. Can I do this class alone?” The teacher pursed her lips together.

“Well we recommend having a partner, though since there is nobody-” Before your instructor could finish, the classroom door opened cautiously.

“I apologize for my tardiness, could I still join the class?” You recognized the voice instantly.

What, it can’t be! What freaky dimension did I fall into?!

In front of you was Zayne once more. This time wearing a black dress shirt and pants, with a brown trench coat draped on his broad shoulders. 

Why does he look like a romance lead again! Man, his girlfriend is dressing him up so well!

“Perfect timing! You can partner up with this young lady right here.” The teacher exclaimed while clapping excitedly. Turning to you, Zayne’s face froze in surprise, but he quickly morphed into a familiar soft smile and he nodded in your direction.

“Of course, I would love to.” He walked next to you, behind your shared baking station. As you stood awkwardly next to him, he looked at you and whispered:

“It’s wonderful seeing you again Y/N. Do you always go to this many classes?”

You sighed and answered snarkily:

“Normally no, but unfortunately a Doctor made the suggestion. So now you are stuck with me again.” Zayne playfully smirked.

“In that Doctor’s defense, he didn’t say the only way to relax was to go to recreational classes. I am certain he recommended other activities.” You pouted.

“Well that’s what I like to do so stop following me.” You both giggled before the teacher called for attention from the chattering students.

“Quiet down please!” Once the room turned silent, the instructor continued. “Today, we will be making a Fruit Cream Cake. Now, for those that are new, this is a free roam class! The recipe is on your station, as well as the ingredients you need. If you have any questions, or need help, just ask!”

Quickly after, the chatter started up again as the teams worked on making their cake. Immediately, you grabbed and put on the apron on the counter, quickly glimpsed at the recipe, and turned to your partner who was putting on his apron too. 

“Okay, looks like we can add any fruit we want. What do you prefer, berries? Mangoes? Strawberries?” The doctor gulped. 

Is he salivating?

“They all sound amazing, maybe mangoes.” A large smile grew on your face.

“Great choice, I love mangoes too! Now, let’s make the batter first! I’ll grab the ingredients and you watch the mixer!” One by one, you added all the needed ingredients and put it inside the metal mixing bowl, meanwhile Zayne assisted. It was all going fine until you noticed Zayne pouring almost half of an overflowing cup of sugar. You grabbed his wrist before he put in the rest. His eyes widened, shocked by your sudden contact.

“Sorry Zayne! I already put in the 1 and ½ cup of sugar needed for the recipe.” The doctor cocked his head to the side and looked at you with furrowed brows.

“I did see that, but I don’t think that’s sweet enough. I think another two cups would be perfect!” Your eyes and mouth were agape.

“That would be too sweet!” Adorably, the man pouted.

“It’s better to be too sweet than not sweet at all.” You guffawed.

“I thought as a doctor, you would be advising there to be less sugar.”

“I’m not acting as a doctor right now. And me, as Zayne, says more sugar.” 

“Compromise, only one more cup of sugar!” He sighed.

“Agreed.” You felt proud of your compromise, but noticed Zayne still had the crammed cup of sugar in his hands.

“But wait, not that full-” But before you could stop him from pouring in the ungodly amount of sugar, it was too late. He quickly poured in the sugar in the mixing bowl. You groaned.

This cake is going to be extremely sweet.

“Bad doctor! You didn’t let me finish!” You jokingly complained as you stomped your foot. “Now, since I can’t trust you with the batter, you are now assigned to whip cream and fruit duty.” Your partner chuckled before grabbing the equipment he needed for his part and moved to the other half of the station. Your eyes lingered in his direction, staring at his adonis back briefly before you caught yourself.

Come on Y/N focus!

After the oven was done pre-heating, you poured the batter into a parchment covered cake pan and put it in the oven to bake for almost a half an hour.

Sweating from the oven’s heat, you wiped the sweat from your brow and returned to your team mate. 

“I’m just waiting for the cake to finish baking, do you need help with anything Zayn- I mean Doctor-” Zayne lightly flicked your forehead. “Oww”

“You don’t need to call me by my honorifics outside of the hospital. Zayne is just fine.” You bit your lip, excited by the prospect. You were making a friend!

“Of course, Dr.- I mean Zayne. Sorry, give me time.” Zayne grinned before giving you a chopping board.

“Can you help me cut mangoes and make the mango filling?”

“I would love to.”

—

After a half hour of quietly working on the cake’s filling. Many ovens, including your own, beeped. Notifying you both that the cake was ready. Happily, you walked to the oven and opened the door with your baking gloves on. As the oven was opened, a deliciously sweet aroma filled the hot air around you. Looking down at your cake, you could see it was a beautiful golden brown. You delicately grabbed the cake and placed it on the counter.

“Look at our baby Zayne!” The man walked next to you and stared at the cake lovingly. Though, you noticed his ears were rosy colored.

“It’s beautiful, but could you not refer to the cake as our baby.” You dramatically gasped.

“Why? Do you not want to have a baby with me!” You meant it as a joke, but after the words slipped out, you realized the implication. You looked at his sheepish face horrified.  You waved your hand around, humiliated by your own tongue. “I didn’t mean it like that!” Zayne chuckled at your distress and put his hand on your arm and lightly squeezed.

“It’s alright, I didn’t mean it like that either. I just would rather not say I want to eat our child.” 

“Haha fair enough.” Before you could say anything else, the instructor called back everyone’s attention.

“Bakers! The cakes will need another 2 hours to cool off, we’ll take our lunch break now. I’ll see you all in two hours.” The whole class, including you and Zayne, dispersed out of the room. While in the hallway, outside of class, you looked eagerly at your phone for a nearby restaurant to eat alone, but you noticed Zayne following behind you.

“Did you want to have lunch with me Y/N? There's a bubble tea place nearby I love.”  A whisper in your mind reminded you that you shouldn’t, but-”

“I love bubble tea!”

—

After ordering your drinks and food, you and Zayne sat across from each other waiting. The atmosphere between you was awkward. Both of you didn’t speak, just sat staring at the workers behind the counter. You tried swaying around the rotating stool you were on, but after almost falling, you decided to try to make small talk.

“So, Zayne.” Zayne instantly focussed on you the moment you called. “Why did you decide to join a baking class as well? Did MC recommend it too?” Zayne rubbed his shoulder.

“No, I wanted to join a baking class for a while now actually. I love sweets so I spend a lot of my earnings on baked goods. So, I thought since I have more free time, maybe I should learn how to bake, and add all the sugar I want.” You chuckled at his response.

“Still, not over the sugar huh?” The man shrugged and was going to speak further when your orders arrived.

Both of you ordered the same salmon bento box, but with different drinks. He got a simple brown sugar milk tea with 100% sugar (obviously), while you got a creme brulee strawberry smoothie, though with only half the sugar. You sighed contently as you dug into your food and drink. Both were immaculate. For a bit, you both enjoyed your food in silence, but you started to notice green eyes staring at you, or specifically, your drink. Who knew the perfect doctor had such an affinity to sweets. You offered Zayne your beverage.

“Did you want to try it?” Zayne’s eyes widened and glowed.

“Are you sure? I have my own.”

“Nah, it’s all good, go ahead! Though I should get you your own straw-” Before you could get up to get a clean straw, without a thought, Zayne grabbed your smoothie and started guzzling from your straw. You were already far past your teenage era, but you couldn’t help squealing internally.

An indirect kiss?!

A grin grew on the man opposite of you’s face as he sipped and handed you back your smoothie.

“That was wonderful, though it could use more sugar.” You rolled your eyes.

“Of course you would want it sweeter. Still, did you want my drink? We could trade?” Zayne looked away, looking contemplative before returning his gaze to you.

“It’s alright. I’ll order it next time we come here.” You blinked rapidly.

Next time we come here?!

You would have been overjoyed by all of this, the whole date vibe, going out again with such a handsome man, but he had a girlfriend! The inner girl’s girl in you demanded you shut this down immediately. You didn’t know anything about MC, but you had the primal urge to protect her.

“Anyways! MC, let’s talk about her. How did you both meet?” Zayne looked surprised by your subject change, but followed along.

“We met when we were kids. We were childhood friends, though we didn’t grow up together. I moved away and we only reconnected recently.”

“Aww adorable! I’ve never met her, but she's the breathtaking brunette Hunter, right?” 

“I might not call her that myself, but that sounds accurate. When did you see her?”

Crap! I can’t say while I was watching you both in the hospital garden a few weeks back!

Hesitantly you answered:

“I think I saw her while visiting the hospital. She is extremely beautiful by the way. You are incredibly lucky. I wish I could meet someone like her too!” Zayne didn’t speak for a moment, seeming to be processing what you just said.

“Oh, so do you like women primarily?” 

Waittt does he think I’m gay????

“No! I mostly date men, or only men, though some women maybe, I don’t- I mean-” You realized you were babbling nonsense, so you grabbed your drink and chugged a bit before continuing. “I mean, I tend to prefer men. Why do you ask? Is there a handsome rich doctor you can set me up with?” Zayne’s eyes went up and down your figure, before he gave you a small smile.

“Something like that?” You were mixed between wanting to know more, and completely shutting down the conversation. Before you could find out which, your phone alarm rang. 

“Ooops class is on soon, we gotta go!”

—

“What happened?!”

When you and Zayne returned, you were faced with a flat, lopsided cake. It didn’t look like that when you took it out of the oven. The teacher looked at you both apologetically.

“I am so sorry guys. There wasn’t enough space in the fridge, so we had to stack the cakes together. Yours was on the bottom.” You frowned, shrugged your shoulders, and looked up at your partner.

“It’s alright, our cake will just have more character, right Zayne?” Zayne smiled back.

“Yes, we got it.” 

“Thank you both.” The teacher bowed before walking back to the front.

“Okay Zayne, I am determined to make this cake beautiful. Pass me the whipped cream you made and the mango and mango filling.” Zayne bit his lip nervously before grabbing what you requested. You looked at the ingredients and they looked perfect, except, the bowl with the whipped cream had only ⅓ of the cream you needed. 

“What happened to the cream? Did someone take the rest of ours by mistake?” Zayne looked away, before shamefully returning his gaze to you.

“I might have indulged in a bit of it.”

“A bit of it? A majority of it is gone.” Zayne peered at you awkwardly and glumly apologized:

“I am so sorry, I’ll make more.” You shoved his shoulder gently.

“Don’t worry about it. I was just giving you a hard time. I’ll just remember this for next time.” Zayne smirked back.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You took what you had, a lopsided cake, barely any whipped cream, and a lot of chopped mangoes and mango filling, and made the prettiest cake you could. In the end, it was ugly, but cute ugly. There was only enough whipped cream for the center and the very top, the mango jam was leaking from the center, and the only decorations were unevenly chopped mangoes (mostly uneven because of you). Despite your ugly cake, you couldn’t help, but feel prideful. You took out your phone and took a lot of pictures including selfies. You smiled dorkily on each photo and noticed Zayne stiffly standing on the side, you beckoned him over.

“Come here Zayne, we need to commemorate our cake baby.” Zayne chuckled and stood next to you. You smiled as prettily as you could as the timer on your phone counted down, but in the middle, the doctor put his arms around your shoulder and pulled you closer to him. Leaning your body on his. You almost gasped from the sudden heat, but continued to smile wobbly as the phone camera flashed. Once the picture was done, you quickly removed yourself from his arm and looked at the picture taken. Unsurprisingly, Zayne looked handsome while you appeared skittish and messy. You wished you looked better, but even so, you had to admit, it was an adorable photo of you both. 

“Look at us.” You said proudly as you showed him the photo on your phone. Zayne peeked at you and grinned.

“You look cute.” You blushed at his compliment and scratched the side of your cheek.

“Thank you! And thanks for baking with me. I had a lot of fun. Well, I guess I will see you around.” You shot finger guns in his direction and were reeling to leave, but as you were turning away, Zayne held your arm.

“Before you go, can I give you my number so that I can get a copy of the picture?” An alarm began blaring in your head. You shouldn’t take the number of an attached man, but, is it alright just to give him a photo?

“Sure.” You answered conflictedly as you opened your contacts and handed your phone to the man. Zayne swiftly took your phone and added his number in.

“Thanks in advance Y/N. I hope I can see you again.”

—

A Month Later…

You had wanted to join more classes, but work was more hectic than normal for the last month. You had to deal with an onslaught of terribly rude clients, unreliable coworkers, and overbearing and harsh higher ups. It was a struggle, but finally, after a month of dealing with hell and working non stop, you got yourself a few days off. The first free day, the only plans you had was to lie around, eat snacks, and binge your favorite shows.

As you chomped down on your chips, with crumbs covering your pajama shirt, you heard a soft chime on your phone. You groaned in disgust, it was probably a coworker demanding help, or a boss overstepping again. You grabbed your phone and looked at the screen. Your shock made your hands tremble and almost drop your phone. Glaring back at you was a text from Zayne:

Dr. Zayne: Hi Y/N, how have you been?

You felt a wave of panic. This was the first time since you sent the picture that Zayne has ever texted you. You quickly unlocked your phone and went straight to your messages to respond.

You: Hi Dr. Zayne, it’s been awhile! I’ve been alright despite work being horrible! Hbu?

Dr. Zayne: Sorry to hear about that. Hope you haven’t been dealing with a lot of stress and heart palpitations. If you need to see a doctor let me know. Me, I’ve been fine. The hospital has been hectic as well. I haven't been able to go back to the dance or baking class unfortunately.

You: Haha, me as well. I miss them though. I had a lot of fun hanging with you. How has MC been?

Dr. Zayne: She’s fine, haven’t been able to see her much either lately.

You: Aww that sucks. Are you going to be off soon?

After a few minutes of no answer, with only a grey bubble with dots, indicating he was typing on the screen, a new message popped up.

Dr. Zayne: Yes, actually that’s why I wanted to contact you. There’s a painting pottery workshop I wanted to try tomorrow. Would you want to join me? I can sign you up for you?

Your heart skipped a beat. You were surprised that he would want to hang out with you alone. What about his girlfriend? Why would he want to be alone with a single woman? Unless he doesn’t see you as attractive enough to be considered a romantic threat, that would be harsh, but fair. Yes that had to be it. Still, you didn’t want to be stealing MC’s time with her beau and possibly cause conflict between the beautiful couple.

You: That sounds like fun! Why don’t you invite MC with us? I can invite a friend, it can be a double date!

The grey bubble with dots reappeared and stayed longer than last time. Your nerves peaked. Just to escape the growing anxiety, you were about to switch to another app, when a new message came up.

Dr. Zayne: I checked with MC. She said she could join.

You sighed in relief. This felt like a thumbs of approval from MC. You didn’t have to worry about breaching any boundaries in their relationship. Now you can just enjoy your platonic friendship with Zayne and perhaps add MC to your growing list of friends.

You: Excited :D! I’ll ask my friend to come with us! I’ll see u tmr!

Dr. Zayne: Excellent, the class starts at 11am. I can pick you all up, just provide me with your address.

You: Sure :) !

You smiled at your conversation, then it quickly dissipated when you were hit with a dreadful realization: you had to find a friend!

You scoured your phone’s contacts and realized you didn’t really have anyone to invite. All your friends were either out of the country, you knew was working, or you barely spoke to them in years.

Why did I offer to invite a friend?! Now I’m going to look like a loner!

After going back and forth on your phone, you realized you only had one person left, but he would most likely be unavailable. Even so, you had to try. You clicked your friend’s name and waited as your phone rang until a warm voice answered:

“Hello?” 

“Hi Greyson! Are you free tomorrow?”

“Wow, uh not sure why?” You sighed at his non-committal response. 

“I’m going on a double date, I need a friend.”

“Ummm I’m not really interested in dating, I mean-”

“Please! I don’t want to be a third wheel with Zayne and MC! Plus you missed our appointment, so you owe me!” “Hey, I was saving someone’s life! Also, did you say Zayne, my boss, and MC? They’re dating?!”

“Yeah, you didn’t know?” 

“I didn’t know, but I guess it should have been obvious. Man that sucks, I really liked-” He suddenly stopped. “Anyways, sure!”

“Wait- Liked?! Who, MC?!” Before you could extract any answer from the uneasy doctor, he started to rush to end the call.

“I’LL GO BYE BYE BYE!”

“I’LL TEXT YOU THE DETAILS!”

—

Next Day…

You decided since this was just a hangout with your friends, you didn’t have to try too hard with your appearance. Glaring in the mirror, all you could see was a sloppy looking girl wearing a grey hoodie and black ripped jeans. Luckily, you didn’t look completely gross or dead because of the light amount of makeup you applied that added color to your face. Still, you couldn’t stand to scrutinize yourself any longer. Anxious, you waited in your living room until you heard the ringing of your doorbell.

“Coming!” You hollered as you ran to the door. Almost out of breath, you tidied up your messy hair and opened the door. On the other side was Greyson, looking snazzier than usual in a white polo shirt with beige capri pants. The man seemed just as nervous as you. Standing at your doorway, his foot tapped rapidly on the ground.

“Hi Y/N. “

“Wow Greyson, you look fantastic!” The doctor gave you a shy smile.

“Thanks Y/N, I tried.” You guffawed.

“I certainly didn’t. Now grab a seat, we’re waiting for Zayne and MC to pick us up.” You noticed the man slump before putting on a small pout and falling into your couch. Something was bothering him. You sat next to him and turned your body to face him.

“Are you alright Greyson?” The man bit his lips before answering.

“I’m alright.” You furrowed your brows.

“Does this have to do with your unrequited crush on MC?” Greyson stared at you completely aghast. His eyes and mouth were hanging open.

“How did you know! I never told anyone!” You shoved his shoulder.

“I guessed and I am so sorry!” Greyson groaned, lied on the backrest of your couch, and covered his face in his hands.

“Don’t pity me! I know the whole thing is pathetic.” 

“NOOO!” You laid your head on his shoulder. “You aren’t pathetic. A lot of people deal with unrequited crushes. Heck, I’m going through it right now.” Greyson peeked at you from between his fingers with a frown.

“Who?”

“Dr. Zayne.”

“Yeah, everyone does.” His hand rubbed your shoulder consolingly. “Still, I’m sorry Y/N.”

“We’ll both be alright. I got your back.” Greyson’s frown turned to a grin, when suddenly you both jumped at the sound of the doorbell ringing again.

“Alright, it’s time.” You said enthusiastically as you patted Greyson on the back and walked to your vestibule. After taking a deep breath, you opened your door and were immediately pulled into a tight hug. As you were held, long brown hair tickled your face and a delightful fragrance of blossoms filled your nostrils. After a few minutes in her embrace, MC released you and looked into your eyes.

“Oh my gosh, Zayne spoke so much about you! I am happy to finally meet you.” It took you a bit to speak. You were taken aback with how beautiful MC presented up close. Her skin was unblemished and smooth, her chocolate colored hair was silky, her body was lean and muscled and shaped in a perfect hourglass. She reminded you of the models you would see in magazines or screens, the ones you would painfully compare yourself to. You felt a pang in your chest, an ache tinged with jealousy. You could understand why both Zayne and Greyson wanted her.

“I’m happy to meet you too. Zayne spoke to a lot of you as well.” The hunter dressed in an endearing white, flower patterned dress, swayed around, her arms behind her back, and a playful smile on her face.

“Well not surprising considering I am one of his childhood friends. Anyways let’s- Wait! Is that Greyson?” The brunette man immediately turned his head when he heard his name and answered:

“Oh, hi MC!” The girl’s smile widened as she scampered to Greyson. As she passed you, you looked up at Zayne. As usual, the man was dressed impeccably, wearing a white dress shirt, a grey waist coat and dress pants. Though you couldn’t help chuckling to yourself. It was kind of hilarious how the man couldn’t spend a day without looking anything but professional. You leaned your body on your doorway.

“Are you not worried about paint splashing on your fancy clothes?” Zayne looked down at himself before smirking.

“This is just my casual attire. It’ll be fine if paint gets on it.”

“These are your casual clothes? Wow, you are definitely more fancy than me. This outfit is my version of casual.” You mentioned as you gestured theatrically towards your clothes. The doctor sized you up and answered with a grin:

“You still look cute.” You would usually blush and smile, but you knew he was just being polite. MC’s appearance far exceeds yours. Yet, you didn’t want to be ungrateful, so you nodded and smiled politely. “Thanks. Anyways, we should probably start going.” Zayne’s grin shrank as he shook his head in agreement.

“Agreed, let’s go!” MC chanted as her and Greyson joined you both.

—

Right in front of your apartment building was Zayne’s black BMW, and as you all walked to the car, MC, ahead of the group, instantly instructed:

“Alright, Y/N, you sit shotgun next to Zayne.” MC grabbed Greyson’s arm, making the smaller doctor turn red and gulp. “And I’ll sit in the backseat with Greyson.” You couldn’t understand the odd arrangement? It would be too awkward sitting in front with Zayne while his girlfriend and the guy who liked her were in the back. 

“Actually, would it be alright if I sat in the back with Greyson?” MC stared at you puzzled.

“Oh, are you sure your don’t-”

“Actually.” Greyson gently retreated from the woman’s grasp. “I agree with Y/N. I’ll sit in the back with her.” Briefly MC eyes dimmed, but recovered and she replied with a small smile.

“Whatever makes you both comfortable.”

—

The whole car ride started uncomfortably. Initially, MC tried to make small talk, but the conversation quickly simmered and all that was left were soft tunes from the radio. At least that was the case until the car passed a familiar kitty cafe. You were so surprised that your middle school hot spot was still open that you moved your whole body towards the car’s window to look.

“Wait! Is Paws still open?” Greyson stopped staring outside and turned to you.

“Is it? We haven’t been there since middle school.” You smirked as a flash of memories came to mind. Back when you both were so youthful, naive, and hopeful. Not the cynical adults you were now.

“Do you remember when you tried to steal one of the cafe’s cats?” Greyson glared at you, mortified. There was a part of you that felt guilty for mentioning the embarrassing story, but it was too hilarious not to.

“I didn’t! We both know that kitty chose me! I was just respecting the cat’s decision to come home with me.” You playfully rolled your eyes and giggled.

“Is that why you hid the kitten in your school bag and got caught!” Intrigued, MC spun from her seat, focussed on you both and asked:

“Wait, what happened?!” You bit your cheek and laughed as you pushed Greyson’s shoulder. His eyes darted between the two ladies staring at him predatorily. 

“Um, well I don’t really want-”

“Come on Greyson, tell us what happened!”

“Come on Greyson!” MC joined in, showing her best puppy eyes. The cornered man whined and began telling the story. Throughout the whole tale, you continuously laughed and pushed him around while adding in your own perspective. Meanwhile, MC stayed silent, but you could see her engrossed gaze towards Greyson as she giggled along. As you listened, your gaze subconsciously rose from the shy doctor to the car’s driver. You expected Zayne’s eyes to be focused on the road, but from the rearview mirror, your eyes met his hazel green eyes staring at you. Flustered, you shifted your eyes away and tried to ignore the heat in your cheeks.

—

After driving for almost half an hour, you finally made it to your destination, the pottery workshop. The moment you all went inside, you were greeted by friendly employees wearing light brown aprons and pastel colored walls and tables. 

“Hello!” A teenage girl with one of the shop’s aprons greeted. “You guys can start painting right away, just pick one of the items from the shelf and sit at one of our craft tables. All the supplies will be there, and you can order food and drinks at the counter.” You all thanked the girl and began browsing at one of the shelves. The shelf was covered in clay statues of cute animals, mugs, bowls, and jars, all lovingly crafted. After several minutes of perusing, your whole group struggled to pick anything, you especially. You couldn’t focus as you felt Zayne’s warmth as he stood directly behind you, almost pressing himself against you. Your heart fluttered, but you did your best to ignore it and focus on the items in front of you. As you all continued to search, MC spoke up again.

“It’s too hard to pick, but I have an idea to make this easier! Why don’t we paint something for our date and give it to them.” Your heart ached, that was such a romantic idea! Too bad nobody would ever want to do anything like that with you.

“That’s a great idea.” You said as excitedly as you could. “I’ll make something for you Greyson.”

“Oh thank you Y/N. I’ll do the same.” You and Greyson returned your gaze to MC after your sullen agreement. You had expected her to eagerly proclaim her anticipation, but instead she seemed gloomy and confused.

“Oh, you and Greyson?- Okay! Sure, I guess I’ll make something for you, Zayne.” Zayne didn’t say much either, he just quietly nodded. He didn’t appear happy about your idea as well. Did you say something wrong? You grabbed Greyson by the arm.

“I want to check the stuff on the other shelf, come with me.” Eyes wide, the timid man shook his head and followed your lead.

—

Zayne’s POV:

Zayne was a rational man. He knew you and him were nothing more than friends, or perhaps even that was too generous of a title. Still, despite having zero entitlement to your time, he couldn’t help, but feel jealous. Watching you walk away, holding Greyson’s arm, he felt a terrible urge to pull you away from the other man and take his spot, but instead he ignored the itch. 

This whole time he foolishly thought when you offered the double date, you would be his date. Thinking back, he should have known better. Your voluntary distance from him and your closeness with Greyson made the reality of you two dating obvious. Besides that, if Zayne was being honest with himself, he understood that Greyson would be a better fit for you. You deserved someone warm and kind, not closed off, intimidated, and cold as he was. 

As he sadly browsed the same shelf, he felt panicked pokes on his back and whispers:

“Zayne, Zayne, Zayne, Zayne, Zayne.” He groaned and turned to see MC pouting. “You lied, you told me Greyson was single.”

“The last we spoke, he was.” MC frowned further and shook him by the shoulders.

“I can’t believe this. Your girl stole my man!”

“She wasn’t ever mine.” MC groaned and hit his shoulder with her forehead.

“She could have been, but ugh how we fumble so hard Zayne!”

“I don’t know, but we need to respect their relationship.” The girl glared at her childhood friend.

“I know that! I’m not a homewrecker, but you have to admit this sucks, Zayne.” Zayne sighed and ruffled MC’s hair.

“It sucks, but let’s do our best to have fun. For them.”

“Fine.”

—

Your POV

As before you were mesmerized by the couple’s interaction. Watching Zayne cutely ruffle MC’s hair, you couldn’t help, but wish it was you. You cringed, it was a disgusting thought.

“Y/N how about these ones?” Greyson’s question snapped you out of your trance. You followed the brunette’s gaze and it landed on two fuzzy clay bears, wearing matching knitted scarves and tuques.

“Oh my Gosh Greyson! I love them, let’s do it!” Greyson grabbed the two bears and followed you to the table. You both sat on the table and began painting your bears. As you both painted, Zayne and MC picked their own items and joined you both. As you greeted them, you peeked at the figures in their hands and noticed that like you and Greyson, the other couple picked matching statues. Zayne had a chubby snowman, while MC painted a penguin wearing winter gear.

Why do they have to be so cute?!

“I love your snowman and penguin, they are so cute together!” MC smiled gleefully at your praise.

“Right! I love your two bears, I’m jealous!” As she finished her sentence, a glint of mischief appeared in her eyes. “Sooooo how long have you two teddy bears been together?” You squinted your eyes as she pointed at you and your childhood friend.

“What?” You asked hesitantly as MC scratched her cheek. Before she could continue, Zayne gently bumped his elbow on her arm as he started: “MC, it’s none of our-”

“I mean they don’t have to answer! But come on nothing’s wrong with just asking! So, before I was RUDELY interrupted, Y/N, how long have you been dating Greyson?” You were too stunned to respond, you turned to Greyson and could see his expression matched your own.

“What? No NOOOO! I mean no offense Greyson you are great and handsome but-” One of MC’s eyes twitched as you called him handsome. You looked away from MC’s intense eyes, coughed and continued: “I’m-, I mean we’re not dating, absolutely no interest in each other. We are like siblings and I’m not into inces- I’ll stop now.” You looked down at your lap as your hands laid on your thighs. Momentarily, there was silence, until MC guffawed. Confused, you stared at the woman across from you as she was bent over laughing.

“You guys scared me!” MC immediately stood up and grabbed Greyson’s arm, lifting him up to his feet. Greyson gasped with his eyes wide and disorientated. “Okay, Greyson and I have to talk. Here is our share for the bill, enjoy your date you two!” MC instantly pulled out bills of cash and slapped it onto the table counter. After, MC interlocked her hand into your friend’s and bolted from the workshop, leaving both you and Zayne alone.

“Uhmm, did your girlfriend just steal my date?” Zayne peered at you incredulously.

“Wait, did you still think MC was my girlfriend? I thought I told you before that we weren’t together?” You started to blush.

He told me?!

You tried to re-think all your interactions with Zayne, but you couldn’t pinpoint a single time he told you his relationship status.

“I-I can’t remember you telling me.” Zayne stared at you mortified.

“Oh, I was sure- Either way, I am unattached.” You were rattled to your core. Shocked, you moved your hands on the table and fiddled your fingers. Unsure of what to say or do after this huge bombshell. This whole time, you had reserved yourself to the idea that he was completely unattainable, already taken and in-love. Still, despite his status, that didn’t change a thing.  You weren’t entitled to him, especially with who you were currently. Besides your flaws, you are certain you saw yearning in his eyes when he gazed at MC. Is this a case of unrequited love? You opened your mouth to speak, but the moment Zayne gently placed his hand on your much smaller interlocked hands, you froze. His touch was cool, but you felt anything but cold. “Y/N I’m sorry-”

“It’s alright, I shouldn’t have assumed-”

“No, I’m not apologizing for the misunderstanding, though I should have been more direct. I’m apologizing for not being clear with my intentions.” 

“Intentions?” Zayne put one of his hands between your two locked ones, separating them and held your right one firmly between his hands.

“I really like you Y/N, and I truly enjoy being around you. Would you consider dating me? I am aware I am not the warmest person, that I seem intimidating and unfriendly, and please don’t feel obligated to return my feelings, but I would be privileged if you would give me a chance.” You were left in complete disbelief. How could such a kind, handsome and intelligent doctor think you of all people would reject him. You would be over the moon if he chose to date you, but what if you were only a rebound to his true love? You frowned, feeling your heart pounding.

“I really want to accept Zayne. I really like you too, but I don’t know.” Zayne smiled hesitantly, and lightly squeezed your hand.

“What’s stopping you?”

“It’s just hard to believe someone as incredible as you would want a nobody like me. I’m not exactly a model, or a cool hunter with an amazing evol. I’m just a regular woman. I don’t have any evol and I work in a mundane office. Would you want to be with someone so unextraordinary? Are you just rebounding because MC likes someone else?” Zayne frowned and squeezed your cheek. “Oww”

“Y/N, please don’t speak about yourself that way. You’re beautiful, fun, warm, kind, and someone I know is worth getting close to. I don’t need you to be MC. A long time ago, I thought I loved her, but after meeting you, I realized what all I truly felt was infatuation. She’s still important to me, but I don’t love her. And it may be too soon to say, but I see myself falling completely for you. So, would you be willing to give us a chance?” Zayne pulled your hands to his mouth and placed on the back of your hand a delicate kiss. Your mouth widened from the dorky smile you couldn’t control. You never felt so ecstatic.

“Then, I would love to give us a try!” Zayne’s smile wasn’t as large as yours, but as he looked into your eyes intently, you swore you could see his eyes tearing up. Perhaps, it will all work out.

—

Months Later…

Every night, Zayne was tortured by the same recurring nightmare. It would leave him in cold sweat, jolting out of bed, and gasping for air.

In his dream, Zayne woke up not as a prestigious cardiac surgeon, but an alternate and crueler version of himself. A murderer that went by the name: Dawnbreaker.  In his unconscious mind, he found himself alone in a deserted wasteland. Nobody was left alive in the post-apocalypse Linkon. It was only him and the endless hoard of wanderers he dedicated his existence to destroying, desperately hoping his mission would cleanse him of his sins.

One day, as he traversed the abandoned city, he heard a scream. However, unlike any other he has heard, the scream was human. He ran to the direction of the cry, and that’s when he met you. You were tiny, but fierce. Screaming while hitting a wanderer with a baton, barely doing any damage. He sighed and before you could be impaled by the wanderer’s sharp claws, he dispatched the monster. Piercing the beast with a wave of sharp icicles.  After his effortless save, you looked at him with adorably large eyes. You jumped towards him and held him tightly in your arms. Your warmth was the first he felt in a long time. Still, he couldn’t completely trust you. Your existence in this dead world was an anomaly.

He attempted to leave you there, but like a pup, you followed behind him and refused to leave his side. Blabbing on and on about your origins. Apparently, he was right, you weren’t from his world. You were an interdimensional traveler, a researcher that traveled to alternate universes and sent your information to your higher ups. Unfortunately, you entered, or more like crashed into this world. During your abrupt arrival, your ship was destroyed, trapping you in this nightmare with him.

“As the only human left, you have to help me!” You begged earnestly. “If you help me fix my ship, I’ll bring you back with me. My world is more pleasant!” The prospect of leaving this empty world was tempting, but there was something or someone he wanted more.

“I don’t want to go back to your world. There’s a woman, MC. I have dreams, I know she exists in another universe. Promise me to bring me to a world where I can finally be with her, and I will help you.” He remembered you cocking your head with skeptical squinted eyes before smirking and shaking his hand.

“I promise.”

That promise started your two’s partnership. Together, you both worked endlessly on your broken ship that was in chunks. With the damage, it took you several years to fix it. It took so long that as time passed, your relationship slowly shifted from strangers, disgruntled partners, friends, to perhaps something more. 

Neither of you claimed ownership of the other, but that didn’t stop you both from using the excuse of needing companionship and warmth to fully indulge in each other. Kisses placed on every part of your bodies, you both fully sinking and becoming one. Initially, it was supposed to be only physical, but the connection evolved. The hours of conversations, sprinkled with jokes and more personal talks, spending time leisurely instead of tickering with the ship, hours of playing games, reading books, exploring the world, having picnics, and so much more. Suddenly, Zayne’s tiny and dark world was filled with light. He found himself needing you. The traveler found a way to nestle herself into his heart. Was he in love with you? He wasn’t sure. The idea of falling for you was daunting. It felt like a betrayal to the woman he dreamed each night of. The one who stood by his side when he was a kinder man, a doctor.

So, he never put a label on his feelings for you, and never said the shattering 3 words. He could tell, especially during those quiet nights, when he held you against his naked chest, that his silence hurt you. He expected you to say something, but you seemed alright with the current status quo, being second place in his heart, at least that’s what he thought.

Closer to the end of his dreams, a few years later in his nightmare, you both were finally able to complete the ship’s revival. It was perfect, except a horrible truth came out. You never had any intention of getting him out, at least together. Your ship could only accommodate one passenger. Your plan was to travel to your world alone and send him a ship to go on his way. It would have worked, though you both would be apart, but a new problem arose after a few tests were done. To fully activate the ship, you had to use a large amount of protocore energy, this would attract wanderers to your area. Meaning, someone had to protect the ship while it was transported away and this would most likely kill the person left behind. 

He remembered your panicked face as you explained all this. He didn’t feel the same fear as you. In his heart, he knew he would die on this unforgiving planet. The reality that crashed into his face should have hurt, his dream of being with MC being annihilated, but instead he felt peace. He got to live his last years blissfully with you. He would be honored to die for the woman he cherished.

“Let’s do it.” Was all he said. You looked at him mortified, tears in your eyes, but agreed. The next morning, after a final night in each other's embrace, the ship was activated. The moment the ship turned on, he could hear the cries of wanderers. His end was near, but he wasn’t afraid. He was ready to fight for you when you called him.

“Zayne, can you look at this quickly, something is wrong with the ship.” There was a tremor in your voice. This had to be serious. He rushed to your side and peered inside the small pod. Everything seemed fine he thought before he felt your delicate hands on his back, shoving him inside. The moment he tumbled inside, the ship sealed, making him unable to escape, unable to save you.

“Y/N WHY!” He shouted while banging the ship’s door, although it could set him free. You tried to smile happily, but he saw your lips wobbling and your tears that stained your cheeks. Before saying a word, you removed the bandage on your arm, the one you refused to let him inspect. Under the bandage were small protocore fragments penetrating your skin from the inside. One of the symptoms of late stage protocore syndrome. How did he miss it? How did he fail to protect you? “Y/N”

Suddenly the room began to vibrate as the ship was slowly activating and the wanderers' cries approached. This couldn’t be happening. As much as he could move in the small space, he fumbled around the screen to stop the ship from teleporting, or to open the ship’s hatch, but everything was locked. It was hopeless. All he could do was continue banging the door and begging. You were unmoved, instead you smiled wider while placing your hand on the window between you.

“Zayne, it’s alright. I’m dying. If you stayed, there would be two bodies instead of one. I need you to live on. Find your true love MC and enjoy life. I set up the coordinates to send you to her. Good bye Zayne.”

Before he could say anything, a large group of wanderers came in, stealing your attention from him. He shouted for you, but you ignored him, instead you advanced towards your death with only a single pistol in hand. He wanted to reach you, he wanted to fight beside you and die with you, but all he could do was watch as the ship glowed, signalling its near departure.

“I LOVE YOU Y/N!” He yelled at the top of his lungs. You didn’t react, didn’t acknowledge his words. Did you hear him? He doesn’t know. The last glimpse of his beloved traveler was her being pierced in the chest by the claws of a wanderer, blood pooling at your feet.

After your death, this is when he begged for the dream to stop, but it never did.

When Zayne opened his eyes, he found himself in a hospital gown with a shaggy haired brunette doctor he remembered from his dreams, staring at him concerningly. He expected the man to question his alien presence, instead he worried about his brain.

“We are so glad you are awake, Zayne. You were in a terrible car accident. Do you remember what happened?”

“No, I don’t remember the accident.” It was a lie, but what could he say? Nobody would believe he was an imposter teleported here by his now deceased partner. So, he played his new role, the kind-hearted cardiac surgeon. Luckily, he was able to adjust to his life fairly easily. He didn’t understand how his beloved’s ship worked, but now he had all the memories and skills of the Zayne he replaced. Further luck, MC was in his life. She visited him in the hospital, she was his emergency contact, and telling by how she blushed and looked passionately into his eyes, she wanted more. A decade ago, this reality would have been his heaven, but without you, without his light, his life felt as meaningless and cold as the wasteland he was once trapped in.

Consequently, even knowing you would be disappointed in him, he rejected any further relationship with MC, and decided to lay low and try to forget you. Though nothing worked, you were forever etched into his soul. He had nothing but regret accompanying him, and he had nobody else to blame but himself.

If only he could have another chance. If only he could only make things right. 

Y/N I’m so sorry-

—-

He woke up again, unable to breathe. 

Please tell me she is still here?! I didn’t lose her again did I?

He turned to the spot next to him on the bed, but you weren’t there.

No, please, it can’t all be a dream. You came back to me!

Abruptly the doctor opened the door of his bedroom and he ran to the living room. 

“Y/N!” 

“AHHH!” You screamed at the man rushing to you. You were just cooking breakfast leisurely for the man you love and yourself to enjoy, dressed in only your underwear and his pyjama shirt, not expecting a sudden ambush from your beloved.

“Zayne.” You whined, your heart pressed to your chest. “You scared me.” You were annoyed until you noticed the man’s teary eyes. You immediately held him tightly in your arms.

“Another nightmare my love?” He kissed your bare neck and whispered a yes. You leaned your head into his. “Did you want to talk about it, my love?” He shook his head, and swayed around with you in his arms.

“No, all of it was from the past. I just want to focus on you now.” You kissed his cheek, pulled away from his embrace, and held and squeezed his fair and soft face.

“I want to take care of you too, Zayne.” You pressed your lips on his, moving against him, savoring him and the sweetness on his tongue. You felt his smile on your lips as he returned your cravings with his own. You both stayed interlocked, until you both were out of breath. You pulled away, needing to breathe, but his lips chased your own, he needed to feel every part of you. To reassure himself you were truly beside him, that you weren’t a cruel illusion. You needed it too, but there was a question irking you. You put your forehead on his to stop him and ask:

“Be honest, do you think our relationship is moving too fast? We’ve only been dating for a few months and we already live together. Should we slow down?” The doctor softly chuckled before holding your face and placing multiple kisses on your face. First on your forehead, your fluttering eyelids, your nose, your cheeks, and lastly, your lips. Though on your lips, he lingered, he was tempted to continue, but with the small amount of self-control he had left, he parted from you.

“Maybe, but honestly I don’t care. All that matters to me now is making sure you know each day how much I love you. However, if it would make you happy, I’m willing to go slow.” He placed another desperate long kiss on your lips, before separating one final time. “Going slow, would just mean I get to savor you more.” You moved your hand to his firm chest, feeling his racing heartbeat on your palm.

“I don’t care either Zayne, I just know that I love you too.”

Zayne grinned and returned to your lips hungrily, refusing to let you go for the rest of the day. Later that night, after savoring his company, as you snuggled his firm chest exhausted, you grinned lazily. You felt truly blessed and loved. Despite the fact you knew your insecurities would never be completely gone, you knew that Zayne would stay by your side, loving you no matter what.

[diamonrot]

I’m jealous of MC! (Sylus' Version)

Hello All! Apologies, this was supposed to be a shorter headcannon/One Shot with multiple LADS LIs on one post, but Sylus' ended up being longer than I thought it would be. I plan to post the other LIs on their own separate posts. I feel a bit unsure about how well I wrote this. Please let me know if you have any feedback.

Even after being LADS LIs' partner, you can't help, but be jealous of MC. How would the LIs react.

Tags: Minors DNI!!! Angst/Comfort , Chubby/F!Reader, Jealousy, Low Self Esteem, Self-Deprecating Talk, Sylus x Wife!Reader, Marriage of Convenience, Drinking and Intoxication, Suggestive, Injury Description.

Please leave feedback or suggestions in comments and/or replies!

Other Versions: Rafayel / Xavier / Zayne / Caleb

Sylus: 

You felt a heavy pang in your chest as you watched the beautiful couple in front of you. A sorceress and her dragon. Your husband with his true love and soulmate.

You knew this was the path your relationship was leading to with Sylus, but that didn’t stop the chills pervasively invading your body.

It’s over.

...

You weren’t delusional. You knew your marriage with Sylus was nothing more than a marriage of convenience. When you signed the contract that aligned your fates, there was no real love between you. Your marriage was orchestrated by Sylus and your father, the leader of your family’s criminal empire. Your union was to accomplish the two mens' goals. Sylus’ goal was to stop the rivalry and have your family’s organization become officially a part of Onychinus. Your father’s goal was to retain draconic blood in your family tree. Meanwhile, you were trapped in the middle. With a splash of draconic blood in your veins, you were forced to be a glorified incubator for you and Sylus’ future dragon children. As your father’s heir and second-in-command, the deal felt like a betrayal. 

Initially, you were adamantly against the whole arrangement. You did everything to avoid your new cage. You fought your father on it, refused to meet your betrothed, and even abandoned your home, but nothing worked. You were constantly dragged back. You fought until the day of your wedding.

You remember the helplessness you felt looking at yourself in the mirror. Adorned in a beautiful mermaid lace wedding dress, covered in different accessories of gold and emeralds that felt more like shackles and chains. 

“Y/N LET US IN!”

You numbly looked at the source of the noise, the door of your bridal suite. The entryway had a large heavy dresser against it. As you hoped, nobody can enter your room. No matter how many yells, shouts, and pounding on the other side of the door you heard, you refused to open. The union was inevitable, but you just wanted to extend your time as a free woman, just a bit more. You sat on a stool, looking at the dolled up woman in the mirror. A woman you could barely recognize. As your eyes teared up, you felt a shift of energy. Suddenly, next to you was a swirl of red and black. You wiped your tears quickly. Your fiance has arrived. You didn’t dare move or stare at the towering white haired and red eyed man dressed in a black tux. You stoically sat still, looking at your own reflection. You expected him to yell at you, demanding you obey him as your new husband, instead he surprised you and kneeled reverently next to you.

“I know this isn’t what you want.” You stubbornly continued to look away from his face. Instead, observing him in the mirror. “I don’t want this as well, but I promise to make this beneficial for us both. I just need to know what you want”. Your heart stuttered. You weren’t used to your feelings being a consideration. You softly groaned before moving your whole body to directly face your betrothed. His handsome face remained neutral.

“I don’t want to be an incubator. I have no desire to be a stay at home wife with a batch of children, in a loveless marriage.” His ruby eyes studied your face and he smirked.

“Alright, who do you want to be?” You looked intently into his ruby eyes, grimacing.

“What I was always meant to be. I want to be the leader of my family’s empire. I want to be your business partner, your equal.” Sylus smiled widened. He put his large hand on your knee.

“I would love that as well. Alright, we could do that.” You stared at him confused.

“Really?” Sylus squeezed your knee, and stood up.

“Really. I only wanted to join our organizations together. I never wanted a wife or children. I’m already accounted for.” You scoffed and leaned your head to the side.

“Unsurprising, so what do you have in mind?” As Sylus grinned, you could see the tips of his fangs.

“We’ll get married. Look like the perfect “power” couple in front of your family and in the N109 Zone. You will help me expand Onychinus, and as a reward, when your father finally dies, I will place you as your father’s successor and we will divorce amicably. Meanwhile, you will have Onychinus’ continued support even after we split up. What do you say? Do we have a deal?” He reached out his hand to you. 

You squinted at the man, suspicious of his motives. You were taught to never accept deals because of their face value, especially when they seemed too good to be true. Unfortunately, you had no leverage and this was your only chance to live the life you truly wanted. So, you dove right in. You grabbed his hand firmly. Feeling his coarse skin on your own.

“I accept.” Sylus squeezed your hand, and helped you off the stool and out of the room.

Since your mutual agreement, you continued to walk together in stride. After your wedding, you both played up your roles as the N109 Zone’s most dangerous couple. Every business deal and auction, prying eyes would find Onychinus’ leader and his wife in each other's arms. Sickeningly showing off your affections through overexaggerated touches and kisses. Meanwhile, away from the public, your relationship was colder.

Both of you were nothing more than platonic business partners. Only spending time together during work, but otherwise living separate lives of your own. In spite of the initial coldness, as time passed, the gap between you and Sylus slowly disintegrated. Standard small talk started to be sprinkled with flirty remarks, and suddenly became more personal and lasting for hours. The physical distance between you decreased as well. Even in private, it was normal to find you both side to side, secretly placing lingering touches and exchanging soft and quiet smiles.

You wouldn’t admit it, but you started to enjoy Sylus’ company. You felt your heart warming up to him more and more. Until, one night, as you lied alone, replaying your conversations with him while blushing, you realized a horrifying truth. You were helplessly crushing on your own husband.

The evolution of your relationship came to a head after a business deal went wrong. It was supposed to be a simple trade. A high quality protocore for money, but the moment the protocore was shown, all hell broke loose. You and Sylus were standing before representatives for one of Onychinus’ partners, when they revealed the “rare” protocore. The deal was a clear attempt to scam your organization. The protocore was a fake, a weak substitute disguised to look high quality. Both of you glared with your hands on your waists. It was beyond insulting. Immediately, Sylus walked to the sellers, grabbed the protocore and crushed it with his bare hands. You could see the other men’s faces blanch as Sylus stalked closer.

“This is an obvious fake. You know what Onychinus does to those who dare try to trick us, right?”

Panicked and knowing they were caught, the group raised their guns towards you both. You laughed and gave a knowing look to your husband while displaying your own bright red handgun. The fun began right after. Since you and Sylus were outstanding marksmen, taking out the group of men was easy. One by one, the men fell, incapacitated. It was all smooth sailing, until a lucky lone bullet was shot directly at Sylus. Your heart stopped as you noticed the shot being fired while the leader’s attention was pulled to the enemies in front of him. You only had one brief thought:

I have to protect him.

You jumped in front of your husband, taking the full blunt of the bullet to the shoulder. Your body folded and the burning impact knocked you to the ground. During the fall, you hit your head on the floor hard. The last image you remembered before losing consciousness was Sylus holding you. His face contorted in fear and pain. 

When you finally came to, you were in your own bedroom at the base. Behind you was the hum and beeps of a monitor. You moved to sit up, but you felt a searing ache in your shoulder. You couldn’t help, but whine from the pain and lie back down. Looking at the metallic ceiling above you, you tried to remember anything from after you were shot, but everything was blank. Luckily, looking at your bandaged bruised body, you seemed to be perfectly fine besides the residual pain and exhaustion.

Worn out, you were about to close your eyes again, when you noticed someone from the corner of your eye. You gazed to your side and saw your crush sitting on your loveseat. Sylus was slumped and his eyes were firmly shut with bags under them. You never saw him this disheveled before. His white hair was a mess, strands splayed out. His clothes were wrinkled and spotted with blood. You realized he hadn’t changed his clothes. It was the same outfit he wore during the shoot out. Your heart wrenched at the sight.

You reached out and gently stroked his cheek. 

“Sylus” You called hoarsely. He instantly opened his eyes and appeared to be about to hold your hand, but you saw a slight tremor. He hesitated and put his hands on the bed, and leaned towards you.

“Kitten, are you alright?” You smiled as nonchalantly as you could.

“Do you think a weak bullet like that could take me down?” You beamed and tried to laugh, but your throat was too dry. Embarrassingly, you immediately began coughing. As you doubled over, Sylus gingerly rubbed your back before retreating. As though his very touch could shatter you.

“I’m not sure about that. You were knocked out for almost a whole day before waking up.” Sylus gave his signature smirk back, but it didn’t reach his eyes. You could see guilt clouding his scarlet eyes. 

“Sylus” You cooed as you continued to caress his cheek. “You know it wasn’t your fault right?” Sylus avoided your gaze, looked down briefly before leaning into your touch and looking into your eyes.

“I should have been more aware of my surroundings. It was careless of me. I’m sorry.” You pinched his cheeks and he stared at you in disbelief. 

“You weren’t careless Sylus, having blindspots is normal. That’s why we went together, to fill up the gaps.” 

“Still, you should have never had to do that for me. You know my evol. I could have easily taken the shot.” The comment irked you. Why would he question your decision? Why would he assume you would have preferred him getting shot instead? 

“I know that, but that bullet was aimed directly at your chest. Who knows how bad your wound could have been! Your evol can’t heal all wounds, especially when you are in a weakened state.” Sylus huffed.

“You should have let me take the shot. Don’t ever do that type of stunt again.” You crossed your arms to your chest and pouted.

“No.”

“No?”

“Exactly!”

“Why are you so insistent on getting hurt on my behalf?” He asked, staring intently into your eyes as though trying to look into your soul. “ What could you possibly gain? In fact, if I died, you would have probably been promoted to being the new leader of Onychinus, so why?” 

Your heart raced, and your palms began to sweat. You knew why, but should you tell him? You looked back into his eyes, trying to see a hint of disdain, or any repulsion on his end to stop you from telling him the one thing that has been keeping you up at night. The one thing that truly scared you. The reality that as much as you tried to hold back, be professional, and distant. That even though you told your then fiancee to his face that you only wanted to be business partners, you had found yourself completely falling for him. The worst part of it all, the role you denied, being his lover and wife, was now all you wanted. You sighed, feeling a heavy weight on your chest.

“Because I care about you, Sylus. As much of a cocky pain in the ass you can be, you’re important to me. I would do anything to protect you because I can’t live without you.” His eyes opened up. His mouth was agape in shock, before melting into a softened and a genuine smile.

“I care about you too.” He whispered as he took your hand and placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles. You blushed from the sudden warmth and tenderness. You’ve never experienced anything like it.

After that night, everything felt perfect. You no longer had to act like the perfect couple, you just were. When you both were free, you would spend time together, doing whatever you both desired. Usually that meant travelling the world, racing with any vehicle in your repertoire, or indulging in every luxury you both possessed. However, the moments you cherished the most was when it was just the two of you back on base. Where you both would lose yourselves in each other. Holding each other either to the sway of music playing on a record player, on the couch with a show in the background, or even between the sheets. Satisfying your need for each other through kisses and handholding in between each moment you spent together. 

You were in bliss, but dread always loomed in the background. Your fairytale had a time limit. You knew you weren’t the permanent keeper of his heart. You were simply filling the role, until the woman he truly wanted, his sorceress returned.

He spoke to you about her on occasion, usually during the quiet nights. He told you about his soul exchange with her, how their fates were connected. How in a past life, they were separated, and how hard he kept looking for her. Before, you enjoyed listening to his romantic stories. Unfortunately, the moment your feelings grew, it became more torturous. Listening to the man you loved talk yearningly about another woman put a pit in your stomach. Luckily, after you got together, he barely did. When it did come up, he assured you he no longer wanted to be with her as before.

Still, you were haunted every night. Your mind twisted up heartbreaking dreams of your beloved leaving you for her. They would crush you when you woke up gasping for air. Yet, as you laid your head on his pillowy chest, it was easy to ignore. You chose to enjoy whatever time you had left, but near your 5th wedding anniversary, the clock struck 12. MC came back.

The moment he found his other half, he told you immediately. He didn’t seem particularly excited, and again he assured you he no longer loved her. You remembered him firmly holding your hands as he re-iterated that you were the one he truly wanted. You smiled back, wanting to believe him. You tried, but you couldn’t help the nausea and the bile in your throat. At first, her influence in your lives felt small. She was a figure caught on camera, another pawn on the chest board. At that time, you could ignore the growing despair and fear you felt, but the moment she showed up at your doorstep, your life shattered.

On the screen, MC always looked gorgeous, but in person, she was immaculate. Tall, youthful, slender with porcelain white skin, and dark chocolatey brown eyes and hair. She was a sight to behold. Tragically, what really irked you was her personality. She was a heroic hunter. She was righteous, kind, and high-spirited. She was everything you were not. She knew when to be strong, and when to be playful and soft. You were only brought up as a weapon. Raised to be selfish and harsh. In comparison to her warm youthful spirit, you were cold, awkward, and older. When you met her, when the misunderstanding of Sylus and Onychinus’ involvement with the murder of her “brother” was resolved, she looked up at you and spoke to you so fondly. She never held any disdain, even when she found out you were Sylus’ partner. That you were a thief who essentially stole her spot. She gave you no reprimands, she only asked for your friendship. 

She made you want to rip your hair out. You were spiraling. One night, a month before your 5th anniversary. You decided to handle a difficult mission alone. You told him it was so he could focus on other matters, but you needed the ego boost. You needed the confirmation that you were just as strong as you’ve always been. Sadly, no such pride came from your endeavor. You only felt dirty and tired as you walked back to base.

You craved Sylus’ company. You walked to his office’s door ready to burst in and demand attention, when you heard a familiar giggle. Your heart dropped. Quietly, you opened his door until there was a crack big enough for you to see inside without getting detected. You felt a pang in your chest. There they were standing close to each other, laughing together about something you couldn’t hear.

The sight was heart crushing, you were sick to your stomach. They looked so perfect together. Both tall and beautiful, matching each other flawlessly. Their laughter rang across the room like an angelic orchestra. You never believed in soulmates until you saw them both together. A dragon and his sorceress, and who were you? The interloper between them that never stood as tall or excellently as she did beside him. 

You were gutted. Not wanting to be caught, you gingerly closed the door to his office and walked back to your separate chamber. Since you and Sylus got together, you never returned to your own room. Every night, you would sleep in his master bedroom with him. It had been almost 5 years since you slept alone, but you had to accept your new reality. You lost. Everyday after, your only goal was to survive, and hope you wouldn’t be harshly pushed aside.

You started to isolate yourself. You needed to protect yourself from the anguish of Sylus’ rejection. You avoided your husband as much as you could. You assigned yourself to any solo mission available. You refused any opportunity to be alone with him, and evaded his touch and his stare. When MC would pop up as she regularly did, you quietly left them to themselves. You were miserable, but there was a small inkling of hope every day he didn’t demand your divorce. Maybe he wasn’t lying. Maybe he did want you. You didn’t really believe that, but you needed the delusion to feel somewhat okay.

Almost a month passed until your anniversary was only a few days away. You set the special occasion as the turning point of your relationship. By the end, either you would be together, or the more likely result, you would be abandoned for a better woman. So, you went all out. You booked a presidential suite on the top floor of Linkon City’s best 5 star hotel. To make it extra extravagant, you had the room decorated and catered to match exactly the same decor and food as your wedding. You felt it was a nice touch since you both didn’t really get to enjoy any of it at the time. You both were too busy consumed by the business end of your arrangement. As you prepared, you felt mostly anxious, but a part of you was excited and a bit hopeful. Perhaps, this would remind him of his love for you, and if not, the divorce papers were ready.

A day away from your anniversary, you played your final card. For the first time in a long time, you entered his office willingly. As you entered, as always, he was having an important conversation with MC. It stung, but you had to push through.

“Y/N it’s been awhile.” Sylus greeted sarcastically. MC only nervously laughed in response.

“Apologies Sylus, I’ve been busy.” Sylus jaw clenched as he looked you up and down and sneered.

“Or you’ve been avoiding me. In any case, what can I do for my wife this evening?” You shivered at his cold demeanor. A heavy lump appeared in your throat. He was clearly annoyed with your presence. This was a mistake. You looked away from his inquisitive stare, looking at the painting behind his desk.

“I was wondering if you were free tonight and tomorrow? I had planned-”

“I’m not. MC and I have important matters to deal with this evening. ”. His abrupt response caught you by surprise, like a sucker punch to the gut. You bit your lip and sighed. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes. MC looked worriedly at you. It ticked you off. 

“Understood, good night.” You hastily left the office and brushed the tears from your eyes. Your very last hope was crushed and you could only think of one thing to do. You entered your room and closed the door behind you. You took a deep breath as your world was crashing around you, but you refused to stand still. 

A few stray tears fell down your cheek as you found your luggage and began packing. You weren’t going to mourn your loss alone in an empty base. With the emptiness torturously reminding you how he chose her instead. You were going to mourn in indulgence. Once you knew everyone left, you placed the divorce papers on his desk and left the base. You refused to look back, even though you were unsure on whether this would be the final time in your home.

…

After an hour flight in your private jet, you finally made it to the presidential suite you painstakingly prepared for your grand celebration. The moment you entered, you were hit with painful nostalgia. White and red roses were strewn around the room. The suite was illuminated by white candles and the sunset. The room glowed a beautiful mix of pink and orange. A silver champagne fountain and a white three tiered wedding cake both stood tall between a table full of appetizers, entrees, and pastries. In the background, you and Sylus' favorite songs played.  

The whole sight was heartbreaking and the only thing you could do was laugh maniacally.

“Fuck him and MC!” You yelled to yourself. “I’m going to enjoy this whole thing on my own!”

You brashly pulled your luggage to the master bedroom, opened the bag, grabbed the white velvet lingerie and their matching knee high stockings and shoulder veil, and changed into them. Before you left the bedroom, you stared at the mirror near the doorway. Looking at your round body, you couldn’t help, but admonish yourself. You squeezed the fat from your stomach bulging out of your tight garter belt and glared at your large thighs peeking out from your skirt. You definitely weren’t as hot or slender as MC.

Damn, no wonder he chose her. You really let yourself go. Well fuck it!

You didn’t have time to care. You re-entered the living area, changed the music to your upbeat playlist and grabbed a glass of champagne. You were going to have fun! This would be the best divorce party ever! The rest of the night, you spent circling from eating, drinking, dancing and singing, and crying. It was a wild night, and by the end of it you were in a dizzy, drunken stupor. Around 3am, you decided to call it quits. You turned off the music and wobbled your way to the bedroom. 

…

Sylus POV:

Sylus was exhausted and irritable as he returned to the base with MC. He kept recalling your pained look as he rejected your offer for tonight. He hated seeing you so distraught, but he felt resentful too. He could tell you’ve been purposefully avoiding him recently. Every attempt he made to reach out to you was always evaded. He even tried asking why, but you always found an excuse to leave him before answering. He felt sick. Sick of having to ask for your attention, and sick of the thought that you might be afraid of him. Then, when you finally asked for time with him, it had to be when he couldn’t. This mission would give him the intel he needed to finally release him and MC from their soul bond. They would be free to be with who they chose, and he wanted to choose you, but you seemed done with him. 

As they entered the base, from the corner of his eyes, he could see MC’s gaze diverting multiple times, from him to something else. She’s been doing that the whole night. He could tell she had something she wanted to say to him, but was hesitating. Finally, MC took a breathe and started:

“You shouldn’t have spoken to Y/N that way. She’s clearly hurting about something.” Sylus scoffed at MC’s remark.

“And you should mind your own business. My relationship with Y/N has nothing to do with you”.

“Well, until we unscramble our souls, I kinda am a part of your relationship business, and me having the kinder half of you, I would say you were pretty rude to her. If you just explain-” Sylus halted in the middle of the hall and gave MC a piercing look.

“Don’t you think I tried. I tried to speak to her multiple times about our plan, but she refuses to listen. She has completely shut me out.” He tried to keep his stare steady on MC, but remembering your sorrowful eyes made looking at MC’s judgemental stare unbearable. His brows furrowed as he looked down the ground ashamed. “If she decides she is done with me. That she's disgusted by me. There isn’t much I can do.”

“Sylus” MC called while patting his arm. “I’m sure she’s not disgusted by you. It must be because of a misunderstanding. Didn’t she start distancing herself when I came along? Maybe she thinks you’re still in-love with me-” Sylus shook his head.

“That’s ridiculous, I’ve always-” “BOSS EMERGENCY, 911!” Luke yelled, both him and Kieran running to the other two. Sylus immediately stepped up to meet them, MC walking close behind.

“What happened?”

“It’s Y/N, Boss. She’s gone.” Kieran answered. “And not just that, she left divorce papers on your desk.” Sylus’ body went cold. He knew you would be upset, but didn’t expect you would leave. He should have let you go, but he couldn’t. He needed to fight for you. He marched to the door, to the surprise of all those around him, but before exiting, he turned back.

“Luke, Kieran, get me her geolocation. I’ll start looking for her. She’s not getting away that easily.”

…

After hours of driving on his motorcycle, he finally made it to the hotel you booked. Standing tall, he entered the building and went straight to the front desk. A friendly man in uniform greeted him.

“Hello, how may I help you sir?” Sylus leaned on the desk.

“I am here to visit a Mrs. Y/N Qin.”

“I can see if she is here, and what was your name?”

“My name is Sylus Qin, I’m her husband.” Sylus answered coolly.

“Ohhh perfect, we were expecting you!” The man ran to the back, and returned with a large bundle of balloons. All of them displaying the number 5. Sylus felt dread in his gut.

Oh by the Gods.

“Happy 5th Anniversary Mr. Qin! We’ve been expecting you! Here is your room key.” He said while respectfully handing him the suite’s key. “You are on our top floor, floor 20! Enjoy your stay”

Sylus had the urge to punch himself in the face as he entered the elevator to the 20th floor. No wonder you snapped and left, it was your 5th year anniversary. Typically, he remembered each one, but with how hectic his work has been, especially with trying to resolve his issues with MC, he completely forgot.

I’m so stupid.

He rushed to the door of your hotel room, and took a deep breath ready for a battle. He entered inside, and you weren’t in the living room. Even if you weren’t there, his heart sank. All he could see was partially eaten food on the table, and beside them was a shut off champagne tower, and a wedding cake missing a few slices. Around the floor and counters were destroyed roses and melted candles. It reminded him so much of your wedding, and of course it did, you did it on purpose. You worked so hard, and he made you spend your anniversary alone. Sylus frowned while searching for you. Finally, he found you in the bedroom, cuddling a large pillow, lonely. You were wearing a white, sexy outfit that he knew was meant to impress him. His eyes began to get misty. He needed to do whatever it takes to make it up to you.

Y/N’s POV

“Y/N? Y/N?”

You opened your eyes, and could barely see. Everything was a blur except two bright red eyes staring at you. You sprang up, turned on the lights and pointed your gun at the intruder. Your guard lowered when you saw Sylus in front of you, raising his hands in the air.

“Calm down Kitten, it’s just me.” Your eyes began to tear up. Your mind told you that he wouldn’t be here, that this was all a dream. Still, you were too drunk to care. If this was a dream, you were going to enjoy it.

“Syluuuuuus, you came!” You slurred as you wobbled to him and embraced him. Sylus was shocked by your sudden affection and in disbelief kept his hands off you. This upset you greatly. You pouted and whined before snuggling closer to him and stomping your feet.

“I’ve been waiting for you all evening! Why were you late?!” Sylus couldn’t help, but smile. You were acting unusually, like a spoiled brat, and he loved it. He returned your hold and rubbed his cheek on the top of your head.

“I’m sorry, Kitten. I got delayed from work, but I’m here now. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.” Your eyes glowed when a tearful smile appeared on your face.

“Really?”

“Really, so what do you want to do first?” You cheerful jumped.

“Yay! Okay, I have to prepare! Stay right here and I’ll call you when I’m ready!” Your husband laughed at your shenanigans and sat down on the bed waiting for your signal. While waiting, he heard a concerning amount of noise. The clattering from plates, you bumping into things and your silent apologies toward the inanimate objects. Sylus snickered and called:

“Are you alright in there Sweetie?! Do you need a hand?!” He could hear your shuffling.

“No, no I’m fine! Just preparing! Almost dooone~”

A few minutes later, he heard your eager yell: “I’m ready! Come here, nooow~!” Sylus got up and the living area was as tidy as you could have made it. The candles that were salvageable were lit. The uncrushed rose petals were kept in place, while the others were gone. The champagne tower was turned back on, and he could hear the soft hum from a record player. As he looked around, you popped up into his peripheral, holding a plate of heated up leftovers, staring at him excitedly.

“Happy Anniversary Sylus.” He grinned and placed a delicate kiss on your forehead. You could feel yourself slowly melting.

“I love you, now let’s indulge.” You both went and sat on the couch. Beaming, you fed him each piece of food you heated up for him. Cheerfully introducing each one like a connoisseur. He felt content, but he wanted to feed you too. He insisted on it, but you adamantly declined while pouting. 

“Noooo! I ate so much before! I don't need more, I’m already a whale!” Sylus glared before squeezing your cheeks, you squealed in pain.

“Meanie! What was that for!”

“You insulted the woman I love. It’s your punishment.” Sylus answered firmly, holding your hand delicately. 

“I insulted myself?” 

“Exactly, so do it again, and there will be dire consequences.” He said as kissed your knuckles. You blushed, and agreed to eat a bit as well. After you both finished eating, Sylus got up, increased the volume of the record player and reached out to you.

“Wanna dance, my wife?” You giggled and grabbed his hand to join him. The moment he took your hand, he pulled you closer to him. Your bodies pressing together. You both swayed to the sound of the Jazz music playing in the background, and you felt at peace. You thanked your dreams for allowing you a final time to be with him. You knew he wasn’t really here. Why be here when he could be with MC? Still, getting to live this fantasy, that he loved you the most, that he chose you was decadent and irresistible. You laid your head on his shoulder. Feeling in a daze as he kissed the side of your head and hummed with the song. You never wanted any of this to end. You wished to be trapped in this beautiful fantasy, but you found yourself losing grip of it. Slowly, your eyes would start closing.

Feeling you going limp against him, Sylus knew it was time to call it a night. He lifted you up from the ground, and held you with one arm, bridal style. 

“Time to sleep my love.” You could only groan in protest as he carried you back to the bedroom. Once in the room, he placed you gently on the bed, putting you on your side, and covered your body in a blanket. While gazing at your adorable form, Sylus hoped that you would still feel the same way you did later today. That it wasn’t the alcohol or your loneliness making you need him. 

“Goodnight, Y/N. And happy anniversary.” He leaned in and kissed you between your brows, before slowly retreating. After everything, he should take care of the cleaning. Unexpectedly, as he was leaving, you grabbed his arm and pulled him hard, making him lose balance.

“Don’t go Sylus. I want to keep spending time with you.” Sylus sighed before sitting down on the bed and petting your hair.

“I’m afraid that’s enough for today. You’re clearly exhausted. I promise there will be more for us later today. Now sleep.” He tried to stand up again, but you refused to let go, you kept clawing at his arm. He thought you were having another lovable tantrum, but then he heard you sniffle. You started to bawl, leaning your head on his arm.

“Please Sylus, don’t make me leave you. I don’t want to wake up. I want to stay in this dream with you”. Sylus turned sullen as he realized you thought this whole thing was a dream. In your drunken mind, you thought it more likely he would have never chosen to be with you, that he would only chase after you in your fantasies. 

He held your face and placed a desperate kiss on your lips. He knew he had never been the best at comforting others. Hopefully, this kiss reaches you. In the beginning, you were hesitant to reciprocate. You were confused, but quickly recovered and began to move your lips against his. You both remained locked in each other, your bodies entangled. You were in ecstasy as you felt a pleasant heat in your core. You never wanted it to end, but he was the first to pull away. You tried to chase his lips, but he stopped you by placing his forehead on yours. Both of you gasping for air.

“I promise you, this is all real. When you wake up, I will still be here”. You looked at him glumly, your eyes wide and pleading while a few tears slid down from your eyes. Chipping away at his resolve.

“But Sylus-”

“Shhh.” He placed his long index finger on your lips. “I know it’s scary and hard to believe, but I promise you, I am telling you the truth. To help you, I’ll hold you until you fall asleep, is that alright?” You pouted more before nodding your head in defeat and laying on your side. Sylus laughed to himself before laying next to you, and holding you closely to himself. Your back pressed comfortably on his chest, and his arms around your waist. Surrounded by his warmth, you quickly fell asleep. The last you heard was a gentle whisper in your ear: “Good night my love, sweet dreams.”

…

The next morning, you woke up with a massive headache and a hint of nausea. You remember small snippets of your dream from the night before and it was embarrassing. How desperate you acted was a pathetic spectacle. Still, although you knew none of it was real, you remember the apparition’s promise. The promise that he would be here in the morning. You looked next to you, and all there was was an empty space. You sighed and sat up. You had no more tears to shed, but you felt wistful. You should have known better. Unfortunately, dream Sylus lie-

“Good Morning Kitten.” Your eyes widened in shock. There Sylus was, standing outside the doorway, in front of you as he promised. Your eyes began to tear up, but you took a deep breath.

Don’t get too excited. It probably was still a dream, perhaps he came after to-

“I greatly enjoyed our night together last night, oh and-” He walked to you, handed you a glass of orange juice and pressed a firm kiss on the side of your head. “Happy belated anniversary.” Your heart raced rapidly, and you were unsure what to say. All you could do was say a small thank you in return, before gulping down the juice in your hand. Meanwhile, Sylus sat close to you and stroked your hair. It was supposed to be soothing, but it only put your nerves in a fritz. After you were done drinking, you fiddled with the glass in your hand. Flashes of the night before and your annoying behaviour made you internally cringe. You had to apologize. The apology was at the tip of your tongue, when Sylus started: “How are you feeling this morning? Hungover?” You chuckled, but it was cut short by a pang in your head.

“Yeah, I feel like shit. Drank way too much last night.” Sylus squeezed your cheek affectionately.

“You sure did. It was so cute seeing you all clingy.” You blushed at his words and looked at anything, but his piercing eyes.

“Really, you didn’t find it unbearable?” Sylus laughed before putting his arm around your shoulder.

“No, in fact, I was happy.” You looked up at him, surprised and looking for any hint of sarcasm and deception, but nothing. “It’s been awhile since you’ve shown me any sign that you love me, or even like me. I missed you.” You teared up and buried your face on his shoulder.

“I missed you too.”

“Then why have you been pulling away from me, and don’t lie and say you haven’t. You’ve been pretty obvious with it.” 

“I thought I was doing what was best for both of us. I didn’t want to get in you and MC’s way.” Sylus looked at you disapprovingly. 

“Y/N, I told you that I’ve chosen you.” You shifted your body to look more directly at him.

“Why though? I see how perfect you both are together. Hell, she’s literally your soulmate. She’s wonderful, how can you not?!” Sylus’ frown deepened before taking a hold of your hands.

“Because, I love you, and sure, we aren’t soulmates, but that doesn’t matter. I choose you. That's the only reason I've been spending so much time with MC. I need her help, to free ourselves from our soulbond so I can give myself fully to you. Also, why do you talk about yourself although you are lesser than her?”

“Aren’t I? She’s so kind, heroic, and beautiful. I would even want to be with her!” Your husband raised his eyebrow.

“Should I be worried about you leaving me for her?” You crossed your arms.

“No, but I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to leave me for her.” Sylus sighed before pulling you into his lap and holding your face.

“Sweetie, I love you. And no, you are not lesser than MC.” Sylus inched closer to your face. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, making you tremble.

“I love your sexy body.” You felt his soft lips on your cheek.

“I love your intelligence.” His lips moved and pressed on your forehead.

“I love your loyalty.” His head moved down, nuzzled your neck and kissed your pulse.

“And what I love most of all is your feistiness.” He whispered in your ear. “You are always up for a fight, even with me, and it drives me crazy.” You felt a pinch from him biting your ear. You couldn’t breathe. You were overwhelmed by his seductive presence. 

“And, I love you for so many more reasons, and if you want?” He raised your chin to look directly in your eyes. “I can go over every single reason.” 

Out of breath, you gazed at him pleadingly.

“Are you sure?” Sylus smirked, pushed you on the bed until your back was flat on the mattress, and crawled on top of you. 

“I would love nothing more.” Sylus whispered alluringly as he leaned down closer to you, until he captured your lips into a passionate kiss. Hours passed, and each second the heat and desire between you increased. As you both explored how to accentuate each other’s pleasure, connected together as much as humanly possible, you briefly separated yourself from him to whisper:

“I love you.”

…

Since those nights of devotion, your insecurity diminished. Although it wasn’t completely gone, Sylus remained by your side, reassuring you, and fighting alongside you for the future you both choose.

[sebastiansource]

SEBASTIAN STAN as BUCKY BARNES THUNDERBOLTS*

[sinner-as-saint]

This is so fucking funny help-

[1st-1]

[fangirling-and-making-stuff]

Bucky Barnes, through the whole damn movie:

[softlybarnes]

SEBASTIAN STAN | vanity fair 2025

[sinner-as-saint]

He's my babygirl <3

[marveladdicts]

Thunderbolts* (2025) dir. Jake Schreier

[linusbenjamin]

Florence Pugh as Yelena Belova Marvel Cinematic Universe | 2021-2025

[marveladdicts]

Thunderbolts* (2025) dir. Jake Schreier

[winterghosted]

do you realise how fucked up this group has to be when bucky barnes is the most stable out of all of them

[creativepromptsforwriting]

I control the narrative, I whisper to myself like a lunatic while the characters in the story I'm writing are not following my orders.

[shencomix]

[wkemeup]

Graveyard

summary: As the unofficial healer for the Avengers, you pride yourself on the ability to mend heroes with the touch of your hand. Only, your gift comes at a heavy price — one you keep secret from your friends —and when Bucky asks you to do the impossible, they’ll discover why your gift is called a sacrifice, too.  pairing: bucky x healer!reader word count: 10k warnings: canon level violence

As a child, you were told it was a gift; placed upon a pedestal above the quaint suffering of a rural town and removed of your innocence for the good of strangers. You’d been made to be revered – honored – for the touch that could mend the broken.  

It began with a cut upon your father’s finger – a slip of a kitchen knife that had left a small bead of blood in its wake. Curious eyes glanced up at your father as he hissed at the sting of it and you’d reach forward to place your infant hand upon the cut, a grip so mall it barely wrapped around his finger. He stilled as a soft glow began to emit from your palm. When you removed your hand and began to cry, your father was stunned to find his skin perfectly intact – no trace of a scar in its place.  

They told you it was a gift, celebrated you as if you were a blessing from Heaven itself. But they were cruel in their rejoice, selfish in their praise. They had not considered your gift was not a gift at all – but a sacrifice.  

Like energy, pain could not be destroyed— but it could be absorbed. It could be transferred. Your father’s cut had not simply disappeared, but instead manifested on the finger of an infant for a few short moments before it faded into your skin; laid to rest amongst a sea of foreign injuries that did not belong to you.  

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