ଳ Thinking... about Rafayel who đŚ a lot more than an ordinary human
Pairing: Rafayel x MC
Rate: Explicit
CW/Tags: hyperspermia; that's... that's it, that's the fic; plot what plot
Read on AO3
Rafayel cums a lot.
You find that out the first time you have sex. 'Might be a first-time thing,' you had thought, 'Maybe he was pent-up?'.
But to your surprise, he just... keeps cumming a lot. Every. Single. Time.
Quantity, to make it clear, as in 'he starts cumming and doesn't stop for almost a minute' and 'he ruined two of your favorite bedsheets'.
At first you're mostly... fascinated? It's one of those things that remind you just how non-human Rafayel could be, just like his scales on Ebb Day and his reaction to specific scents.
But after one or two tries of lemurian-sized cum you somehow find yourself... addicted? Horny as fuck?
It's depraved, really, the way he fills you up so much. Essentially filthy and messy and almost animalistic.
It's also really fucking hot.
And when you have him just like now, above you, thrusting fast and uncoordinated, babbling about how much he wants to cum, how good your pussy feels and how he wishes he could fuck you like this from morning to night, his load is the only thing you can wish for.
He keeps pushing his cock in and up, fucking your walls like he wants to make sure no place is left untouched, dragging his lenght on the way out, effectively bullying, over and over and over, that sweet spot a few inches in.
You can only hold onto his back for dear life, chanting his name like a prayer. Your legs bouncing up and down with each of his trusts, muscles putty from how long he has had you spread for him.
The noises of him fucking into you are loud, the strings of your fluids mixed with his own connecting your hips every time he pulls out, the wet slaps of his navel meeting yours echoing around the room. Even the hand that holds your waist up for him is wet, showcasing proof of how skilled his fingers could be.
It's heavenly, truly, the way friction is nonexistent, the way every rub is slippery, every thrust is drenched.
He hasn't cum, but his pre is almost as sticky, coming out consistently, ensuring, in what can only be evolutionary perfection, that the one he has chosen to mate with is ready, open and wet.
At some point, like you always do, you give up holding yourself back, you allow your body the insanity of orgasming on his cock time and time again, of barely reaching one high before he is grinding your pussy into another.
And when he does cum, with pleading words and blissed out eyes, you feel him finally thrusting as deep as he can, staying there, buried, as his cock twitches with every spurt, body shaking as he pulls your hips into his, leaves no room for anything to spill.
It spills anyway, your body not meant to hold so much inside, it runs down your ass and stains the sheets, and Rafayel makes sure to scoop what he can, thrusting his thumb in alongside his cock, dazedly telling you to keep it all in.
He holds you through his entire orgasm, hugging you close and whining sweetly every time his body draws up, releasing one more load for you.
It always ends with both of you exhausted, barely holding on. And every time he is the first to rise, to kiss your face countless times in thank you, to get up to find towels and start running the water for a bath.
âSchlick, Schlick, Hooray!â : LADS Omegaverse, Heat Version
Synopsis: The âHeatâ version of âInto the Slick of Itâ! Your Heat has begun and without the help of Suppressants, only your Alpha can soothe this fire.
Warnings: Omegaverse, Knotting, Oral (m&f), Talks of Pups/Eggs, use of âGegeâ, Caleb likes seeing you cry, Scenting, Marking, itâs another dirty one.
âËđžË° Xavier
Xavier tried his best to keep you at an arms length as he tried to nurse you through your Heat. He had came knocking the moment the alarm on his phone went off, signaling your impending Heat.
The Hunters Association had cut back on Suppressants for Omegas, something for âbudget cutsâ.
The state he found you in could only be described as a fucking wreck. The sweat had already kicked in. You were wearing one of his t-shirts with nothing underneath.
When you opened the door, his eyes immediately went to the slick staining your inner thighs.
âShit-â
âHelp me.â Your whimper broke him. Forgotten, was the fruit basket in his hands. He backed you into your own apartment.
Your hands were immediately trying to tear at his sweatshirt. The feeling of his abs under your fingertips made you want to be under the flesh in more ways than one.
Clothing was torn left and right. The race to the bedroom was filled with you clinging to Xavier, one of his hands cupping your ass to lift you up. Your legs immediately wrapped around his waist.
âXavier, need you inside. Need you filling me up. My Prince-My Love-â You dry humped against the tent in his pants. His normally stoic facade cracked at the seams.
Your back hits the comforter and you canât get your hands on him fast enough. His fingers thread to your hair.
âStarshine, you donât need to-â
âShut up.â It was the only thing you say before you pulls down his pants and underwear, stuffing the head of his cock snugly in your mouth. You ignore the burn in your throat as you take him inch by inch.
âS-Shit-â he stumbled over his words. You look up at him through damp lashes when your lips finally meet the base. Your drooling, moaning around his delicious length like it was the last thing youâd ever taste. Your wandering hands cant sit still for long. âDirty girl, are you touching yourself?â
Xavier knew the answer. Even before the scent of your arousal hit his nose, or the sound of your fingers sliding through your slick folds reached his ears. His hips snap in a rolling motion, cooing down at you as you make a mess of yourself.
âSuch a filthy Omega. What would you do without me, hm? Waste that perfectly good slick on your own fingers?â His voice was always so sweet. But when those filthy words fell from his mouth, you can only moan around his length.
His pretty cockhead bullied the back of your throat over and over again. Your tongue flattened to the underside, a mixture of gags and wet noises filling the bedroom. Xavier used your hair as leverage as he chased his own release.
âYeah? Yeah, my Pretty Girl. Gonna choke on my cum, hm?â His own sense were overwhelmed by your pheromones. His Alpha instincts screamed at him to take you, to dominate you, to make you his all over again.
He barely pulled his throbbing length out just in time for his thick, hot ropes of seed to coat your face. âAht! Mouth open-thatâs it. Good Girl.â
The final few strings coated your eager tongue. His long fingers pressed on your tongue to smear his cum around your tastebuds.
âWeâre not done yet. Ass up.â
âËđžË° Rafayel
You didnât mean to walk so far in the midst of your Heat. It had hit you right after your final mission against a tough Wanderer. You thought you could make it to Rafayelâs before it sat in fully.
But when you showed up to his Studio, reeking of your Heat, he was already waiting with the door wide open. He met you at the doorway and pulled you in before you could even explain yourself.
Without a second thought, Rafayel moves swiftly across the studio, his long legs eating up the distance between you. He wraps his strong arms around your waist and lifts you up, carrying you to the makeshift nest heâs created for you without breaking eye contact. His hands tremble with need as he begins to undress you.
His heart aches at the sight of you, so deep in Heat that you're already apologizing. He gently lays you down on the bed, his hands caressing your face tenderly. âShh, it's not your fault, my love. You didn't do anything wrong."
Rafayel quickly removes his own clothes, his eyes never leaving yours. He can smell your need, thick and heavy in the air. He climbs onto the bed, settling between your legs. His hands roam over your body, soothing and comforting as he tries to calm your racing heart.
You are rubbing your face in the crook of his neck, marking him with your own scent. âMissed you. Need you so much.â
His breath catches at your words, one hand tangling in your hair while the other trails down your side. "Missed you more than anything, Cutie. Gods, that scent..." He nuzzles against your neck, marking you back with his own smell. âHow long has this been building?"
Before you can even answer him, his nimble fingers push between your legs to feel just how soaked in Slick you are. That cocky smile of his returns
He chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to your lips before trailing down your neck. âLooks like someone's been a very good girl, all hot and bothered for her Alpha." His fingers circle your entrance, teasing you with gentle pressure. âSoaked and ready, just for me."
"Your poor little body, aching like this..." He adds another finger, starting a slow rhythm as he speaks. âDid you try to take care of yourself before coming here?" He already knows the answer - the raw need in your scent tells him everything. âYou didn't, did you?"
âCame straight from work. I-I couldnât. You know I canât do it myself.â Your nails dig into his shoulders, a needy whine tearing from your throat.
His eyes flash with primal desire at your words and the way you cling to him. âThat's my girl..." He removes his fingers, replacing them with the tip of his cock. He teases your entrance slowly, letting you feel every inch. "Only I can give you what you need."
"Please..." You beg, your hips bucking up to try and force him inside. Your face is flushed, hair a mess from your frantic markings. âNeed you inside me, need your knot!â You sob the last part, the desperation clear in your voice.
Rafayel chuckles at your need. He reaches over to the bedside table where a messy paint pallet rests. He grabs the clean paintbrush right as he starts to fill you with his cock. âYou stretch so beautifully around me.â
He praises. He lowers the paintbrush to tease around your nipples, watching them pebble under his administration. You cry out and try to jerk away your chest but he silenced you with a punishing thrust. âOhhh, easy Cutie. Feels so nice when you gush around me like this.â
You nearly lost your fucking mind when the bristles touched your clit.
âËđžË° Zayne
Zayne had thrown out your Suppressants. Heâd personal ensure the physician who prescribed them to you at such a young age would never practice in medicine again.
You had stumbled into his office. He wasnât even sure how you had made it here in one piece by the way you smelled alone. You barely had both feet in the door before he rushed to lock the door to his office.
His fingers were peeling open your eye, shining the pen-light into your pupil. You were pleading as he examined your Heat-stricken symptoms. âZ-Zayne I need them. Just one. Please!â Your pleads fall on deaf ears.
âAbsolutely not. Those placebos only mask the issues, they do not solve it.â Zayne removes his glasses just as you launch yourself at the Doctor.
âNeed your cock, Dr Zayne. No, need your knot.â You plead on a broken whimper. Zayne tries to just talk to you as a physician, and not an Alpha. But how could he ignore those pretty pleas. You were practically humping his dress pants, clinging to his lab coat.
âThis is what you needed right?â His voice is almost mocking when he has you laid out on the examination table, knuckles deep in your squelching cunt. The latex from his gloves are too slick, not enough pressure. You try to squirm under his touch, you need more.
âNo Darling,â he pins you down with a strong hand on your stomach, pinning you back. âPreparation is key. Iâd like to avoid tearing you.â His fingers move faster, clipping that spot inside that makes those white stars flash behind your eyelids.
âOr maybe-â he purrs, rubbing your stomach as though heâs petting an affectionate cat. âBeing torn apart is what you need.â
Those words have you spasming under his touch, soaking the thin paper sheet on the examination bed. You Heat is blossoming in your belly and as soon as one orgasm leaves you, you crave to be filled yet again. You grasp at the edge of his lab coat sleeve which is now wearing evidence of your Slick.
âInside-oh Please!â
âPatience.â His fingers quickly pull his throbbing length from it confines, pants barely shimmied down his hips. His cock is furious, the tip nearly purple with need, leaking already. Itâs teasing your dripping folds and you gasp, afraid you might come undone right then and there.
When the bulbous head presses forward you tear at the thin bed cover, back arching. Zayne hushes your cries, hand over your mouth. His knee lifts to the edge of the bed for the right angle and-
You cry out loud behind his hand as he enters you in a single thrust. The burn is so delicious, so welcome, but your breath leaves your lungs at the pure size of him. âShh, shhhâŚjust take it. I took all that time stretching you. Open up for me. Good girl.â
The rickety bed is on its last legs as Zayne is letting you anywhere but go. His glasses have slipped down his nose while he growls and slobbers against your scent gland.
âYou are making a mess all over my office.â His chuckle is nearly a put when he pulls your hair away from the crook of your neck. âIf I ever catch you taking those suppressants again, Iâll keep you locked away and force you to ride out your Heat on your own. Understand?â
Oh you understood alright.
Understood enough to cream on his cock again.
âËđžË° Caleb
If you thought Caleb was going to leave you alone through your Heat, you were sorely mistaken.
He made a makeshift nest for you right in his apartment. He even took a few days off work to ensure his Pretty Omega was taken care of.
He dropped off everything you needed at the door.
The first two days were fine, besides the sweet smell of your pheromones leaking through the door. But on the third day, it was like fighting off a caged tiger.
âNo Pipsqueak, câmon letâs get you back in bed.â He had tried to pry you off of him. You promised him you only need to come out to use the bathroom.
But here you were stripped down to nothing, arms wrapped around him while your Slick coated the living room carpet.
âIf you make me go back in there Iâll die.â You sobbed out, big crocodile tears spilling over your flushed cheeks. âYou can take care of me like you used to when we lived at Granâs. Iâll even be quiet like I used to be. Wonât make a noise when I take your-â
âEnough.â That voice was something he used for his soldiers, not his darling Pips. So when he snapped and those tears started to spill faster, his strength dissolved. âHey no, none of that.â
He hated seeing you cry.
Well.
Except in this current moment.
Your knees were pressed to your chest, it had been so long since heâd been inside of you. Each time felt like you were back in your Senior year of high school when he took your virginity.
You were crying.
You werenât sure if they were tears of pain from the stretch, or from finally getting a knot to stuff your hole.
âIâll be good, so good! Feel so good inside! F-Fuck Caleb-â
âPretty Omegaâs donât cuss at their Alphaâs Pipsqueak.â His dog tags bump your chin as he begins stuffing you full of his cock.
He leans down and laps at your tears, letting the salty taste linger for a moment.
His strong hands push the back of your legs up until you are nearly bent in half. He watches his cock slide in and out of your sopping hole like it has him mesmerized.
âYou wanted to cry so bad Pips. Cry for Gege, cry for your Alpha.â
His thrust is so punishing it feels like he may be a âGegeâ shaped hole in your guts by the time heâs done. But itâs exactly what you need. You need him to drill every thought out of your pretty head.
âThatâs right Princess, oh I know, Iâm so mean,â he fakes a pout as another one of his thrust send you spiraling âTell me how mean Gege is.â
âËđžË° Sylus
Contrary to belief, Sylus is far from a forgetful Alpha. He has the days of your Heat marked down on every calendar available. He has you in the best nest money could buy. No price is too high for his little Omega.
Heâs sprawled out in his desk chair as he types away at his laptop. He can smell you before he sees you. You are clutching one of his shirts to your chest so tightly it might mold with your skin.
âKitten, you should be in bed.â
âIt started.â
âI know, Sweetie.â He pushes his chair back from the desk and opens his arms. He knew your Heat can be a frightful experience. Especially after taking Suppressants for so long. But heâd convinced you to stop taking them, that they were damaging to your body.
You crawl into his lap and he purrs, his own scent calming you just a little. âWhere does it hurt Sweetie?â
He knows exactly where it aches. But he wants your permission of course. You grab his hand, guiding it down the expanse of your stomach and into the soaked panties you were wearing. âH-here.â
âOh Kitten,â his finger squelch through your Slick and you squeak and cling to his arm. âShh, itâs alright. Your Alpha will take care of you. Just relax.â
The nest he had spent so much time maintaining was in disarray. His tongue and fingers draw out a third orgasm and you feel like you might explode. âS-Sy! No more, no more, I need your knot!â
Sylus pulls his lips from your throbbing clit as he licks his lips. Your juices coat everywhere from his nose to his lips. He chuckles as he withdraws his fingers and slick gushes onto the sheets. âDo you know what youâre asking for?â
You let out a whine that says âif you donât fuck me, Iâll lose my mindâ
The first thrust is the hardest. His cock almost bends as he tries to fit it inside of your sopping hole. âRelax Kitten.â
âI-I canât!â
âYou can, yes you can. Oh, there we go. Good girl, Iâm inside. Can you feel it?â
Oh God you can feel it.
You can feel how heâs taking up every piece of your guts, belly, fuck itâs almost like you can feel it in your chest.
âOh, easy now Sweetie. You donât want to inflate my ego. My Knot is doing enough inflating for the both of us.â
Sylus lathers your face and throat with his tongue and fangs. He wants to be like this forever, he never wants to let you go again. Your souls and bodies are intertwined in a dance that is millions of years old.
âIâm never letting you go again. So take this fuckinâ Knot and be mine again.â
Posting this one here even if I donât like it. But heh⌠let me be delusional as for my MC happy with Dragon Sylus đ
Ps : I did used a base for it, but donât have the artist name unfortunately to credit so if someone know pls feel free to tell me so I can credit properly. I know itâs a free to use base as I remember seeing the artist on twitter months ago
Possession, Obsession, Devotion: A Study in Five Men
Nope, I havenât vanished.
Super grateful for all your messages and the sweet support â seriously, thank you. Just swamped with work right now, so writingâs slowed down a bit.
Still working on your requests, I promise!
And Iâm knee-deep in a pretty massive, emotionally wrecking angst based on a Songfic prompt.
While that oneâs cooking, I thought Iâd drop another batch of my random writer notes â all bundled up in one chaotic little post.
CW/TW: Headcanons, Possessive Behavior, Obsessive Love, Jealousy, Power Imbalance, Toxic Romance, Red Flags Treated as Romance, Intimacy with Control Undertones, Emotional Manipulation (Mild), Dubious Coping Mechanisms, Intense Emotional Dependency, Suggestive Themes, Mild Sexual Content, Unhealthy Attachment Framed as Devotion
Genre: Romance-Infused, Erotically-Charged Drabbles with a Generous Side of Fluff
Words Count: 8.6K
5 Petty Jealousies That Reveal Just How Much Calebâs Obsessed With You
1. You call another man âhandsomeâ â even as a joke.
You were teasing. Flirting, in that harmless, breezy way of yours. Caleb laughed. Then immediately kissed you like he needed to reassert territorial dominance with tongue and body weight. Funny how your jokes always end with your back against the wall and his hand on your throat. Lovingly.
2. You go to someone else for help instead of him.
You needed tech support. A charger. Help moving the couch. And instead of calling your six-foot-two, military-trained, emotionally unstable boyfriend â you asked Xavier. Caleb didnât say anything. Just stood in the doorway, watching, calculating how long it would take to move the entire solar system to make sure you never do that again.
3. You donât sit on his lap when thereâs clearly space.You chose the chair. Next to him. Not on him. Heâs not mad. No, no. He's just questioning the entire fabric of your connection and whether youâve lost all sense of instinct. And when you finally realize and climb into his lap? He sighs like a man being restored to life.
4. You post a photo where you're not touching him.Nice shot. Great lighting. Cute outfit. But why is he two feet away and not glued to your side like a shadow with military clearance? His arm belongs around your waist. His hand belongs on your thigh. And your caption? Shouldâve been his name, followed by a possessive noun.
5. You forget to wear his dog tags.
He left them for you. Carefully. On your nightstand. The same tags heâs worn through hell. And you? Walked out the door wearing a cute sweater and nothing that says âbelonging to Colonel Caleb.â Heâll never say a word. Heâll just strip you slow the second you get home and fasten them back around your neck himself. With teeth.
5 Lies Caleb Tells Himself About You
1. âI donât care that she uses my toothbrush.âYou could take a fresh one. You donât. You reach for his, same as always â like that handle belongs to you more than to him. He mutters something about germs. Then watches you rinse with that smug little smile. And later, when you're asleep, he moves it back to your side of the sink. Right where you like it.
2. âShe can wear whatever she wants.âAnd you do. His shirt. His flight jacket. That tiny black top you swear is âpractical.â He acts unbothered. Says nothing. But the second someone else looks too long? He stands behind you. One hand on your waist. That casual kind of possessive that feels like a warning wrapped in warmth.
3. âI donât need her to text me when she gets home.âYouâre a grown woman. A Hunter. Youâve neutralized things with more teeth than common sense. You say âDonât wait up.â He says âSure.â Then checks his phone every ten minutes like it's a heartbeat monitor and he's waiting to hear yours again.
4. âItâs fine if she flirts. I know itâs harmless.âYouâre charming. Itâs part of who you are. You wink. Smile. Lean in a little too close. Caleb plays it cool. Says, âSheâs always like that.â Then grabs your waist in front of everyone and whispers: âTry that again, and Iâll fuck you so hard next time you wonât remember anyone elseâs name.â
5. âShe doesnât need to say she loves me every day.âYou say it once. In passing. A low little âlove youâ as you walk away, like itâs nothing. But he hears it like an oath. And that night? He holds your hand a little tighter. Pulls your body a little closer. Not because he needs to hear it again. But because if he doesnât touch you, he might forget how to breathe.
5 Things That Make Him Go Completely Feral (In Lust, Not Rage)
1. Your hair falls in his face.
Leaning over him. Stretching across the couch. Just close enough that it brushes his cheek like it has rights. You donât even notice. But he does. Every time. He doesnât say anything. Doesnât move. Just breathes in and lets the world narrow to that one soft, smug part of you.
2. You chew on your thumb when youâre thinking.
Not seductively. Not even consciously. Just a tiny bite to the edge of your nail while youâre mid-rant about your latest recon or trying to remember the name of a street vendor. Itâs nothing. Stupid. Barely a gesture. And yet â he stares. Tracks it like a countdown. Fists flexing slow. Jaw tight. Because that mouth should never look that innocent.
3. You interrupt him when heâs cooking.
Heâs focused. Knife in hand. Half-distracted by heat and oil. And then you slide in behind him. Touch his lower back. Squeeze something you shouldnât. Say âSmells good, chef,â with a grin that makes his whole spine forget how to hold. He curses. Tries to shoo you off. You lick something off his finger. And now dinnerâs going to burn.
4. You try on his Fleet cap like itâs a joke.
You lift it off the rack. Set it crooked on your head. Salute with two fingers and that smile that once made him fall off a training tower. âColonel,â you say. And heâs gone. He should laugh. He doesnât. He walks over, takes it off you slow, and kisses your temple like heâs reassigning you to a very different kind of mission.
5. You say âIâm yoursâ.
Not in bed. Not in public. Just⌠casually. In passing. In that low voice you only use when somethingâs real.
âIâm yours.âHe looks at you like you just disarmed a bomb with your bare hands. And then he ruins you for saying it so lightly.
5 Power Couple Moments That Made Everyone Else Jealous (And a Little Scared)
1. Youâre the only one allowed to fly with him in his military jet.Clearance denied. Protocol says no. Regulations triple-confirm it. And yet â youâre in the co-pilot seat, boots up, fingers tracing buttons youâre not supposed to touch. He doesnât stop you. Someone once asked why you get to ride with him when no one else does. He looked up from the cockpit and said, âSheâs my gravity.â End of discussion.
2. You only need to place your hand on his to calm him down.No words. No pleading. No strategic de-escalation. Just your fingers, settling lightly over his, when something in him starts to coil too tight. And just like that â his spine eases. The heat in his eyes lowers by a degree. People have seen him end arguments with three words. Theyâve never seen him go silent for anyone but you.
3. Youâre the only person heâll interrupt a briefing for.Heâs mid-sentence. Room full of officers. Tactical projections glowing on the wall. His phone buzzes. He glances down, sees your name â and pauses. âGive me five,â he says. And walks out without waiting for permission. Someone once asked who it was. He said, âThe only priority higher than this fleet.â No one asked again.
4. You walk in on his arm at the Farspace Fleet annual gala.Heâs in dress whites. Youâre in black. And the room â full of admirals, envoys, diplomats â parts like mist when you enter. He doesnât introduce you. He doesnât need to. Youâre not just his date. Youâre the one who makes him dangerous in silence. And everyone knows it.
5. You donât need words to communicate.One glance. A tilt of your head. A tiny shift in posture across the room. Heâs already moving. Already reading you like mission data. To others, it looks like magic. Intuition. Maybe telepathy. But for you two? Itâs just muscle memory â built from years of almosts, nevers, and finallys.
5 Times Caleb Was a Walking Red Flag But You Loved Him Anyway
1. He pulled the full personnel file on a man you once smiled at.You were being polite. Friendly. The guy asked something harmless, you laughed. By morning, Caleb had his record open on a secure datapad, scrolling like he wasnât reading a life â just calculating the risk factor. You asked what he was doing. He said, âI like knowing who wants whatâs mine.â And then kissed you like he hoped you never asked him to stop.
2. He showed up at your door at 02:03 AM. Soaking wet. Furious. Silent.You missed one message. One. He waited. Thirty minutes. An hour. And then something in him snapped. No threats. No drama. Just the sound of his knock like a warning shot. You opened the door. He didnât speak. Just stared. And then pulled you in with a grip like survival wasnât optional anymore.
3. He scared the hell out of a junior pilot for asking your name.The kid was fresh. Eager. Smiled a little too long. Said, âHey, what should I call you?â You started to answer. Then turned â and saw Caleb across the room. Expression calm. Stance neutral. Eyes loaded. The pilot apologized before you even said a word.
4. He slammed his hand on the table when you joked about breaking up.Just a joke. A throwaway line. Something stupid like âGuess Iâll go find someone less intense.â And his hand hit the surface before the words fully left your mouth. Not loud. Not violent. Just final. He didnât yell. Didnât argue. Just looked at you like youâd put a knife in his ribs and smiled about it. You never made that joke again.
5. He called you âdangerousâ â and meant it like a vow.It was late. You were arguing. You said something sharp. He caught your wrist and said it low, almost reverent: âYouâre dangerous.â But not like an accusation. Like awe. Like worship. Like heâd already decided to stay, even if you wrecked him completely. Even if heâd have to protect the world from you. Or protect you from himself.
5 Petty Jealousies That Reveal Just How Much Zayneâs Obsessed With You
1. Someone else bandaged your scratch.
Just a graze. A stupid piece of shrapnel across your forearm. A colleague wrapped it up. No big deal. You came home smiling. Told him it barely hurt. He nodded. Quiet. Then excused himself to the kitchen. Five minutes later, he returned with antiseptic, clean gauze, and the words: âTake it off. Iâm doing it properly.â Â You didnât argue. Neither did he.
2. Someone at work lent you their umbrella. A man.
It was raining. You forgot yours. He offered. You accepted.Â
Zayne didnât say a thing when you mentioned it over dinner. Just hummed. Neutral. The next morning, you found a new umbrella in your bag. Carbon fiber. Windproof. Labeled discreetly with your initials. You didnât ask how he knew the exact weight your bag could carry without straining your shoulder.
3. You asked the waiter to recommend a wine.
It was harmless. Polite. You were curious. But Zayne was sitting right there. He didnât blink. Just looked at the waiter, then at you. Then took the list back. âActually,â he said, calm as glass, âshe prefers reds with less acidity. Iâll order.â You nodded. The waiter nodded. And somewhere between the clink of glasses, you realized that wasn't about wine at all.
4. You didnât invite him to your morning training.
Heâd had a night shift. Surgery ran late. You wanted him to rest. So you left quietly. He woke up to an empty bed, your gym bag missing, and a silence that felt like a closed door. You came back to find his routine disrupted, his pulse still too fast â and a protein shake mixed just how you like it, chilled and waiting on the table. He never mentioned it. But now, if you decide to âlet him restâ again⌠your training starts later. And doesnât involve clothes.
5. You called another man âsmart.â
It was a game show. Trivia night. Some stranger on-screen made a clever move. You smiled. âWow. That was actually really smart.â Zayne didnât look up from his tablet. Didnât even shift. But ten minutes later, you found yourself in a very precise debate about probability, strategy, and why that move wasnât that brilliant after all. You didnât argue. You just leaned closer. He didnât smirk, but you felt it anyway.
5 Lies Zayne Tells Himself About You
1. "Iâm just your cardiologist during exams."
Itâs clinical. Professional. Necessary. He listens to your heartbeat, takes your vitals, asks you to breathe deeper â deeper.
You unbutton your shirt. He doesnât flinch. Doesnât look. Doesnât feel anything. Except for the part where he adjusts his gloves a little too tightly. And maybe takes one extra second to remove the stethoscope from your skin.
2. "Lunch tastes the same without you."
He orders the same thing. Same cafĂŠ. Same tea. But the pastry tastes off. The space feels louder. The table â emptier. He tells himself itâs fine. Then brings the leftovers back to his office. Doesnât touch them. Just leaves the box where your hand might find it later.
3. "I donât need to pick you up."
Itâs logical. Youâre a professional. Your job runs over sometimes. So does his. But your message was short. The streetlights are on. The buses are unreliable.Â
He checks traffic cams. Weather. Public transit delays. Then sits very still, staring at his phone, wondering how to offer you a ride without making it sound like panic.
4. "Iâm not checking. Iâm sleeping."
You once left while he was asleep. You thought it was kinder. Quieter.
Now he says he âneeded waterâ or âhad a dream.â But every night, at 3 AM, his hand reaches. Just to feel your back. Your wrist. The smallest proof that you havenât disappeared again.
5. "Short skirts are inefficient."
He says theyâre impractical. Not suited for cold weather. Definitely not for terrain with hostile wanderer activity. You raise a brow. He adds, âYouâre not seventeen. Dress like it.â
But the second no oneâs watching, his hand is already sliding up your thigh under the table. And when you raise a brow at him, he just says, flat: âChecking for circulation.â
Youâre not fooled. Heâs already failed the mission.
5 Things That Make Zayne Go Completely Feral (In Lust, Not Rage)
1. You straighten his tie.
Youâre not thinking about it. Just reaching out, adjusting the knot, smoothing the line down his chest like itâs second nature. He stays still. Breath held. Eyes on your face. You step back. He doesnât. Because now all he can think about is using that same tie to bind your wrists to the chair in his office â and how many minutes he can steal between appointments without compromising your breathing.
2. You dip your finger into the frosting of his pastry.
You donât ask. Just lean in, collect a bit of cream with your fingertip â and taste it. Oblivious. Innocent. Distracted by something else. He watches. Silently. And now the fork in his hand feels criminally unnecessary, because his mouth is dry, his mindâs gone blank, and heâs halfway to pulling you into his lap just to return the favor â with interest.
3. You take off your bra without removing your shirt.
Itâs casual. Automatic. Youâre talking about your day, laughing, and then â
One arm out. Then the other. The strap slides through the sleeve and vanishes into your laundry bag like it never existed. His brain glitches. His hands twitch. And he will absolutely spend the rest of the evening pretending to listen while picturing every technical step of reversing that maneuver with his teeth.
4. You imitate him. Badly.
Youâre wearing his lab coat. His glasses. Sitting at his desk, brows drawn, lips pressed tight. Your impression is awful. He should be annoyed. But instead â he watches. Sharp. Quiet. And when you finally laugh and start to take it off, he gets up. Takes the coat from your shoulders himself. And tells you, too evenly, âYou forgot the gloves.â
5. You trace lazy shapes on his wrist while talking about something unrelated.
Youâre saying something about your neighborâs cat. Something trivial. But your fingers are moving in a slow, absent pattern across his skin. And Zayne â who has operated on live hearts under pressure, who has held lives in one hand and death in the other â is currently struggling not to grab your wrist and drag you onto the desk. Because apparently, nothing in this galaxy has the precision impact of your fingertip.
5 Power Couple Moments That Made Everyone Else Jealous (And a Little Scared)
1. You have a keycard to his office.Not a guest pass. Not a shared access code. A permanent, personalized, high-level card to a room most staff canât even knock on without permission. You walked in one day mid-shift, casual, spinning the card between your fingers like it was a hairpin. Three nurses saw. One dropped her tablet. Rumors started before you even closed the door. Zayne didnât correct them.
2. When he received a prestigious award, the first person he thanked was you.Best cardiothoracic surgeon of the year. Cameras flashing. Applause rising. Everyone expected a speech about innovation and responsibility. Instead, he said: âIâd like to thank the one person who keeps me alive enough to do this work. My partner. My favorite interruption.âThen he looked straight at you. The auditorium melted.
3. Youâre both dressed like weapons. And everyone notices.He wears tailored coats, precision-cut collars, charcoal palettes like a tactical signature.You? Heels like blades. A suit that redefines âcombat-ready.â And when you walk together â sharp, silent, side by side â people stop talking. Someone once tried to photograph you.
The headline read: Unknown dignitaries arrive. Security does not comment.
4. You donât argue. You duet.Someone crossed a line. Loud, drunk, smug. Zayne responded first â clean, cold, just one sentence long. The man blinked. Started to retort.
You finished it for him. Elegant, sharp, no profanity required.
He left. Fast. And you turned back to Zayne like nothing happened â while everyone else tried to recover from what could only be described as a linguistic orgasm.
5. He opens doors, buttons coats, and moves chairs like itâs instinct.Not performative. Not flashy. Just⌠precise. He adjusts your sleeve without thinking. Helps you into the car like itâs always been his hand. You barely register it.
But the woman across the street? The one who saw it all from behind her coffee cup? Sheâs still texting her group chat about âthe man in the long coat and the woman who ruined my standards.â
5 Times Zayne Was a Walking Red Flag But You Loved Him Anyway
1. He gets live data from your heart monitor.Your Hunterâs Watch sends updates to the cloud. Zayne rerouted the feed to his private tablet. âJust in case,â he said. Now he knows when your pulse spikes. When youâre injured. When you donât sleep. You never gave him access. You never had to.
The first time he called mid-mission to say âslow your breathingâ â you realized he wasnât tracking. He was watching over.
2. He absolutely hates when you drive. Always.You're capable. Fast. Efficient. And yet â every time you take the wheel, something in him shuts down. He doesnât argue. Doesnât protest. Just goes silent. And stares at the road like it personally offended him. He says, âItâs fine.â But he holds the dashboard too tightly for that to be true.
3. He freezes every time you say âI can handle it.âYou mean well. Youâre strong. You are capable. But when you brush him off with a casual âIâve got this,â he doesnât nod. Doesnât smile. He just stops. Eyes unreadable. Hands still. And when you come back later â even fine â thereâs already a backup plan on your datapad. Three versions. In color.
4. He never replies to emotional messages right away.You send: âI miss you. A lot.â His read receipt appears. Then⌠nothing. For two hours.
And just when you start to spiral â he sends a photo. Of your favorite pastry. Waiting on his table. With one word: âSoon.â You hate how well it works.Â
5. He spoke to the man flirting with you like he was reviewing his autopsy.It was harmless. A drink. A joke. A compliment. You laughed. Zayne didnât.
He stepped in, shook the manâs hand, and said: "Tell me, has anyone ever checked your prefrontal lobe for impulse control irregularities?"The man left. Quickly. You rolled your eyes. Zayne didnât apologize. He just took your hand. And changed the subject. Completely calm. Fully satisfied.
5 Petty Jealousies That Reveal Just How Much Rafayelâs Obsessed With You
1. Someone comments âđĽâ under your photo â and you like it.He sees it. Of course he does. He sees everything. You think itâs harmless. He thinks itâs appalling that someone dared mark your beauty with an emoji better suited to grilled meat. He says nothing. But that night, you get a charcoal sketch of yourself in your favorite pose, signed with a tiny flame in the corner. When you ask about it, he hums. âOh, just honoring your admirersâ creative input.â
2. You linger too long in front of another artistâs painting.Not just glance. Linger. Eyes soft. Head tilted. That thoughtful little breath you take when something moves you. He stands beside you, perfectly still. Smiling. Then leans in and whispers, âCutie, if you start weeping, I may need to challenge the gallery owner to a duel.â
You're not sure if heâs joking. Youâre also not sure you want him to be.
3. You talk about a beautiful place you visited⌠without him.Youâre glowing. Describing the light, the air, the view. He listens, nods, even asks questions.
Then: âAnd did the sun taste the same without me there?â You pause. He smiles, all charm and cheekbones. âIâm just wondering how it dared rise, knowing we werenât together.â
4. You send him a photo â and thereâs someone elseâs hand in the frame.You didnât notice it. He did. He stares at the image like itâs a crime scene. Zooms in. Later, he replies: âBeautiful composition. Fascinating use of background tension. Would love to discuss the symbolism of that wrist â whose is it?â You laugh. He doesnât.
5. You say some actor is âexactly your type.âHe doesnât flinch. Doesnât blink. Just goes very still, then casually asks, âBefore or after makeup?â Later, you find your datapad background changed. Itâs him. In perfect lighting. Shirt unbuttoned just so. The caption reads: âStill unsure who your type is? Look into my eyes. Youâll remember.â
5 Lies Rafayel Tells Himself About You
1. âI didnât paint you. Itâs just resemblance.âHe insists itâs a study of emotion. A symbol. A face from memory. But the tilt of the head, the mouth, the birthmark near the collarbone â theyâre all yours. You ask, teasing: âIs that me?â
He blinks. Smiles slowly. âCutie,â he says, âI wouldnât paint you without permission.â And then changes the subject. Very deliberately.
2. âI don't reread your old messages.âHeâs far too elegant for that. Far too composed. Except on quiet nights. On long flights. In museums where the silence scratches at his skin. Then he opens the archive. Just for the rhythm of your words. The accidental poetry. The way you once wrote âcome home soonâ like it meant more than time and place. He says itâs for âemotional reference.â He lies beautifully.
3. âI don't watch your mouth when you talk.âHeâs an artist. A visual thinker. Of course he looks at faces. But not like that. Not at yours. Not like heâs memorizing the shape of every syllable just to feel them later against his throat. Not like heâs fantasizing mid-conversation about shutting you up with his tongue and tasting the sentence off your lips. No. Never. Heâs listening.
4. âI havenât memorized your scent through every season.âHe claims not to notice. But he knows the spring version of you â soft rain, citrus skin, the aftershock of lilac. He knows the winter version â leather gloves, cinnamon breath, quiet wool. He doesnât name them. Doesnât chase the memory. But when you walk past â his eyes close. Briefly. Automatically. Like heâs gathering air before going under.
5. âI don't imagine your name with mine.âHeâs not that romantic. Puh-lease. Marriage is a construct, surnames are politics, and love is beyond paperwork. He says all that with a flourish. And yet â thereâs a notebook. Tucked under his mattress. Full of signatures. Yours. His. Just to see how it would look. Just in case.
5 Things That Make Rafayel Go Completely Feral (In Lust, Not Rage)
1. When you eat something juicy. Fruit. Fingers. With zero awareness.You bite into it slowly, distracted. Something sweet. Ripe. Juice glides over your lower lip, and your tongue follows without thinking. He watches, motionless. Not breathing. Not blinking. You glance at him. He tilts his head. Smiles. Says lightly: "That peach is about to become my personal enemy." You laugh. He doesnât. Heâs too busy wondering how itâs possible to be jealous of the fruit.
2. When you kiss his hand instead of his mouth.
He leans in, expecting lips. Contact. Heat. And instead â you take his hand. Press a kiss into his palm. Soft. Deliberate. His breath catches. His throat tightens. Because that wasnât affection. That was submission. And now heâs wondering just how far youâd let him take it.
3. When you tease him with your voice. Not the words. The tone. The whisper.
You say his name like silk sliding over glass. You ask âYou think so?â like it means âprove it.â You laugh â not loudly, but just enough to make his chest hurt. He could diagram it, break it into sound waves, prove the seduction in math. But instead, he just steps closer. And says, low: "Say that again. Slower."
4. When you sit on the floor, barefoot, flipping through his sketches â looking like you belong there.
Youâre humming something. Knees tucked up. No shoes. No guard. You tilt your head, study a piece, murmur: âI like this one.â He doesnât even remember drawing it. He just remembers the way your hair spills over your shoulder and how the studio feels suddenly too small for how much he wants you. He doesnât touch you. Not yet. He just watches like a starving thing. Memorizing the moment in case he dies of it later.
5. When you say âmore.â In any context.
âMore sugar.â âMore time.â âMore.â
Thatâs all it takes. One syllable. One open door. You never mean it the way he hears it â but he takes it as a promise. Like permission. Like a match tossed onto something already too dry to survive. And the next time he touches you? He makes damn sure you say it again.
5 Power Couple Moments That Made Everyone Else Jealous (And a Little Scared)
1. He painted a self-portrait â with you reflected in his pupils.
Not your full form. Not a shared composition. Just his face. Direct gaze. And in both eyes: you. Looking at him. Always. When the painting debuted in the galleryâs main hall, critics called it âa study in obsession.â He called it accurate.
2. In an interview, he said youâre the only one who gets his sketches.
The host asked who his work goes to first â gallery, agent, press. He smiled lazily and answered, âHer.â The room stilled. âThe raw ones. The incomplete. The brutal drafts no one else deserves to see.â He didnât say your name. He didnât have to. The moment he said it, you were already trending.
3. He delayed his own exhibition opening because you werenât there yet.
The venue was full. Lights ready. Guests murmuring. But he stood at the entrance, fingers laced behind his back, perfectly calm. âSheâs on the way,â he said. âShe had a prior engagement.â No one questioned him. Later, when you finally arrived â graceful, composed, in a deep sapphire gown that matched the evening â only he noticed the tiny scratch on your knuckle. The faintest shadow of something darker, just beneath the perfume.
You smiled. He took your hand. And the doors opened like theyâd been waiting for you all along.
4. Someone flirted with him. He looked at you. Then said: âIâm already spoken for. Permanently.â
It was charming. Playful. Someone touched his wrist, laughed softly, leaned a little too close. He didnât pull away. Didnât react. Just turned his head toward you. Found your eyes. Then said it â quietly, cleanly, like a closing signature on a finished masterpiece.
5. At a charity auction, he sold a painting titled: âPainted Between Her Breathing and Mine.â
The crowd didnât know what to do with that. Some laughed nervously. Some applauded. The bidding started high and ended astronomical. But as the winning guest walked past you, holding the canvas with reverent hands â he still glanced back. At you. As if to say: That canvas holds the image. But I keep the original.
5 Times Rafayel Was a Walking Red Flag But You Loved Him Anyway
1. He can disappear for three days and return with, âI just needed to stop being jealous.â
No warning. No calls. Just silence, like he fell off the planet. You panic. Rage. Rehearse five speeches. And then he walks in â composed, scented like night air and oil paint. âSorry,â he says softly. âI was being irrational. Had to⌠recalibrate.â You want to scream. Instead, you breathe him in like heâs home.
2. He destroyed the career of a critic who called your photo âpoorly lit.â
It wasnât even a real insult. Just a throwaway line in a blog. But Raf read it. Once. And within a week, that critic was blacklisted from three galleries, publicly corrected by five curators, and accidentally misquoted in a viral controversy. You found out much later. He just looked at you and said, âNo one calls shadow a flaw when it falls across you.â
3. He faked an illness so you wouldnât leave for a mission.
Nothing dramatic. Just a cough. A warm forehead. You hesitated. Postponed. Stayed. The next morning, he was radiant. Healthy. Annoyingly smug. You narrowed your eyes. He only shrugged, kissed your wrist, and whispered, âI needed one more night. Forgive the performance.â You did. Of course you did. The guilt felt almost like foreplay.
4. He left your clothes wet in the wash so youâd wear his shirt instead.
Accident, he claimed. Timing. Cycles. But somehow, your entire outfit was still in the machine â cold, damp, and useless â while his favorite linen shirt lay folded neatly on the bed. You put it on. He watched you button it. And smiled like he'd won a silent war no one else even knew was happening.
5. He reads your messages without asking. Calmly.
You know it. He knows you know. He doesnât deny it. Just traces your jaw one evening and says, âYou donât hide anything from me. Thatâs why it doesnât count as intrusion.â And the worst part? Heâs right. You stopped hiding a long time ago.
5 Petty Jealousies That Reveal Just How Much Xavierâs Obsessed With You
1. You nap on the wrong side of the bed.You nap on the wrong side of the bed. Not wrong, exactly. Just⌠not his. Youâre curled up in the late-afternoon light, peaceful, quiet, unaware. He doesnât wake you. Doesnât move you. But when you stir, thereâs a weight in the silence. His side of the bed is untouched. Pillow perfectly aligned. No warmth. No scent. And your blanket â tucked just a little tighter â like a quiet reminder that even when youâre here, somethingâs missing. Something heâs not sure how to ask for without sounding ridiculous. Like: your perfume. On his pillow. Where it should be.
2. You tell him about a dream. Someone else was in it.You describe it absently. A mission. A flash of danger. And a man â not him â at your side. He listens. Nods. Doesnât blink. But that night, when he kisses you, his hand stays on the back of your neck longer than usual. And his mouth says I want you, but his grip says: you donât forget me, even in sleep.
3. You keep something old, worn, unnamed.A keychain. A patch. A folded slip of paper. Nothing dramatic. But itâs always near. He asks, once: âWhat is that?â You smile. âJust something from a long time ago.â He nods. Never brings it up again. But two days later, he leaves something else beside it. Not to replace. Just to match the weight.
4. You let the barista choose your drink instead of him.You smiled. Said âsure, why not.â Took the new coffee without hesitation. He was beside you. Holding your usual. You didnât notice. But when you left the cafĂŠ, his own drink sat untouched. And he walked a little faster. A little quieter. As if recalibrating the fact that maybe someone else knows your taste. Even if itâs just in coffee.
5. You close your laptop too fast when he walks in.âJust a movie,â you say. Too quickly. He doesnât ask. Doesnât tilt his head. Just nods and sets his gloves on the table like he didnât notice the flicker in your tone. Later, while checking your tabs, he sees the paused frame â teeth on skin, hands holding wrists, someone begging. Silently. His breath doesnât change. His expression stays neutral. But when he finds you, hours later, he doesnât speak. Just pins your arms above your head and kisses you until you canât remember what the scene looked like â only what it felt like when it became real.
5 Lies Xavier Tells Himself About You
1. âIâm not jealous of whoever taught you how to fight like that.âHe knows it doesnât matter. Itâs skill. Itâs history. Efficiency passed from one warrior to another. He tells himself itâs irrelevant. But when he watches you move â precise, lethal, beautiful â something coils in his chest. Not because of the technique. But because someone else saw you become this version of yourself. And he didnât.
2. âItâs logical to sleep apart sometimes.â
You need rest. Space. Post-mission decompression. He understands. Itâs healthy. Statistically sound. But the first night you say âIâll sleep in my own apartment,â the bed feels wrong. His internal balance off by degrees he canât quantify. He tells himself itâs fine. Then stares at the ceiling for hours, heart syncing to a rhythm that isnât there.
3. âIt doesnât bother me when you keep things to yourself.â
Youâre independent. He respects that. Boundaries are natural. But you say âIâm fineâ with a smile that doesnât reach your eyes, and he catalogs ten micro-expressions that say otherwise. Still, he nods. Doesnât push. Then replays your words in his head for the next three days, trying to solve you like a puzzle that refuses to open.
4. "I could walk away, if it ever came to that."
He tells himself heâs rational. Detached. If you chose something else â someone else â he would adapt. But deep down, he knows: heâs already memorized your weight in his arms, the way your name fits inside his silence. If it ever came to leaving⌠he wouldnât walk. Heâd stay exactly where you left him. Quiet. Waiting. Ruined.
5. "You wouldnât lie to protect me. Would you?"
You say âit was nothing,â âIâm just tired,â âI handled it.â And he accepts it. On the surface. But his mind starts building alternate versions. Safer ones. Worse ones. Ones where you bled and said nothing. He tells himself youâd never hide real danger. But he still checks your vitals in the logs. Every time.
5 Things That Make Xavier Go Completely Feral (In Lust, Not Rage)
1. You walk in wearing a bright yellow duck kigurumi.Â
Absurd. Fuzzy. Zipped up wrong. You yawn, mumble something about tea, and pad across the room like comfort incarnate. He looks up. Blinks once. And forgets what he was doing. The beak hood. The bare ankles. The way you scratch your neck, half-asleep. None of it should be seductive. But now he canât look away. His gaze tracks you like threat assessment â only it's not danger heâs calculating. Itâs proximity. Access. How long he can pretend he's unaffected⌠before you end up against the wall. Still wearing the duck. For now.
2. You adjust the chest plate of his armor.Â
No rush. Just fingertips over matte metal, sliding a buckle, pressing a clasp. Your hands linger longer than they need to. You donât even realize youâre doing it. But he does. Heâs counting your seconds, your pressure, the exact placement of your thumb. If anyone asks why his next shot missed the center by half an inch, itâs because you touched him like a secret no one else was allowed to see.
3. You peel off your combat gloves with your teeth.Â
Itâs efficient. Quick. Practical. But the way your mouth closes around the strap and your fingers flex once, twice, before theyâre bare â
Heâs staring before he knows he is. Processing nothing but the curve of your jaw and the memory of that same mouth around his length. The second glove doesnât stand a chance. Neither does he, honestly.
4. You wear a thin black choker.Â
No explanation. No warning. Itâs not part of your gear. Has no field utility. But itâs there, snug against your throat like a promise no one else knows about. He sees it once and looks away. Sees it again and swallows too hard. The third time, he doesnât look at all â he just shifts in his seat like everything in his world needs immediate recalibration.
5. You say âlaterâ when he leans in.Â
Just a little. Enough to feel the pull. And you smile, soft, apologetic, not teasing â just... not now. He nods, like he understands. He always does. But from that second forward, every calculation, every breath, every cell in his body becomes attuned to the moment you say now. And when you finally do â he doesnât wait. He doesnât ask. He just takes, like patience was never part of the equation to begin with.
5 Power Couple Moments That Made Everyone Else Jealous (And a Little Scared)
1. You moved in perfect sync â without saying a single word.
In the training hall, you didnât say a word â but moved like a mirrored code. You shifted, he adjusted. You reached, he passed. No signals, no commands. Just two bodies in absolute sync. Someone watching whispered, âDo they rehearse this?â Someone else muttered, âNo. Thatâs just them.â And suddenly, no one wanted to spar with either of you.
2. Someone called him âtoo quiet.â You didnât let it slide.
It was a throwaway comment ââHeâs so silent, itâs weird.â You didnât even look up from your drink. âThen youâve never heard him breathe next to you.â The room went still. Xavier didnât react. But you felt it â how he went still too, the way his attention locked fully on you. As if your words changed the temperature.
3. He braided your hair for three weeks while your wrist healed.
At your desk. Between reports. No comments. No hesitation. Just practiced hands and quiet efficiency, like it belonged in the schedule. And maybe it wasnât romantic. Or loud. But after that, no one ever looked at you the same way â because somehow, without trying, the two of you had redefined what closeness looked like.
4. You didnât ask for his jacket. You didnât have to.
A shift in the wind. Goosebumps on your arms. No complaint, no drama. He just stepped behind you, slid his cardigan onto your shoulders like it belonged there, and said nothing. The couple walking by paused. Stared. You didnât. You were already reaching for his hand.
5. Thereâs a photo of you on his desk.Â
Just you, caught mid-laugh, in natural light. Among tactical reports and encrypted drives. He never explains it. Never acknowledges it. But everyone who enters that room sees it. And no one ever asks if he's serious about you. They already know.
5 Times Xavier Was a Walking Red Flag But You Loved Him Anyway
1. He monitors your meals like itâs a clinical trial.
âYou didnât eat enough protein today.â âThat pastry had no nutritional value.â âAre you hydrating?â He says it softly. Calmly. Like a doctor. Like someone who cares. And yet â youâve seen him survive three days on black coffee and whatever snack bar was closest to his hand. You mention this once. He pauses. Then says, âThatâs different. Iâm used to operating under stress. Youâre not.â End of discussion.
2. He didnât argue. He made the argument disappear.
You disagreed about something small. Nothing dramatic. Just opposing views. He didnât push back. Just nodded, quiet. Said, âIf thatâs what you think.â Later, you realized the entire issue â schedule, person, condition â was gone. Resolved. Removed. Replaced. No apology. No discussion. Just silence... and a solution that left you with nothing to win.
3. He never asked where youâd been.Not once. Not even after you were late. Not even when your message came hours too late. He didnât accuse. Didnât guess. He already knew. Tracked your path, logged your signal drift, checked your pulse history. All without a word. And still held the door open when you arrived.
4. He always calls via video when youâre in another city.He never misses a day. Never just texts. Always video. He says he likes seeing your face. That it âgrounds him.â And maybe thatâs true. Maybe. But every time the screen lights up, you notice how carefully his eyes scan the room behind you. How his voice sounds different if thereâs movement. How he never quite hangs up until you say, âIâm alone. Itâs quiet here.â Only then does he relax. A little. Maybe.
5. You told him, âSometimes, you scare me.â He said, âGood.âIt slipped out. Low. Uncertain. Not a joke, not an accusation â just the truth. He didnât deny it. Didnât soften. Just met your eyes and said, calm as ever, âGood. Then youâll stay alert.â And for a moment, you werenât sure if he was warning you⌠or protecting you from something only he could see coming.
5 Petty Jealousies That Reveal Just How Much Sylusâs Obsessed With You
1. You didnât tag him. He made sure the world knew anyway.You posted a photo. Cute. Stylish. Perfect lighting. But no mention of him. No tag. No trace. He reposted it within minutes. Same photo. New caption: âCorrection: mine.â It got five times the reach. And suddenly, everyone knew better.
2. Someone else made you laugh. Sylus didnât.The waiter was charming. A little too witty. You laughed â loud, unfiltered. Sylus just raised a brow, pulled out his wallet, and handed the man $2000. âFor your last night in customer service,â he said. He smiled. You choked on your wine. The waiter never came back.
3. You called some man a friend. Sylus ran a background check.âHeâs just a friend,â you said. Lightly. Barely thinking. Sylus smiled. Tilted his head. âIâm just a man with access to his tax history.âAnd that was the end of that conversation.
4. You said another man had a nice voice. Sylus gave you no air.It was innocent. Harmless. âHis voice is kind of nice.â Sylus said nothing. Just waited. That night, he read you poetry in three languages, one line at a time â mouth against your neck, breasts, stomach, thighs â until you begged him to stop. Not because you wanted him to. Because you physically couldnât take more.
5. You forgot to wear his ring. He didnât forget anything.It wasnât intentional. You were rushing. Distracted. But he noticed. Of course he did. He said nothing all day. Then, that night â when you were breathless, undone, on your knees â he took your hand, kissed your finger, and slid the ring back into place. Slowly. Deliberately. Like sealing a deal you forgot you signed.
5 Lies Sylus Tells Himself About You
1. âI didnât pick your outfit to match mine. Mustâve been the stylist.âIt was just coincidence. That your lipstick matched his cufflinks. That your dress followed the same line as his collarbones. That when you walked in together, people paused â like royalty had arrived. He didnât say a word. Just looked at you once. And didnât look away for the rest of the night.
2. âIâm not furious that I wasnât your first.âHe says it doesnât matter. Shrugs. âIâm not a teenager.â And yet, the thought of someone else touching you before him? It coils in his chest like smoke that wonât clear. He tells himself you chose him now â and thatâs what counts. But the next time you moan his name, he fucks you hard enough to make sure no one elseâs ever mattered.
3. âI donât answer your messages instantly. Iâm just always holding the phone.âHe just⌠saw it. Right away. Just happened to be holding his phone. Just happened to pause mid-meeting, mid-deal, mid-war â to write: âBe safe.â You tease him for how fast he replies. He teases back. And never mentions the part where your name makes him drop everything.
4. âIâm not obsessed with the way you say my name when youâre annoyed.âYou do it without thinking. That exact tone. That breath. That syllable dipped in heat. He rolls his eyes. Says, âWhat now, kitten?â But every time it happens â he shifts closer. Hears it again later in his head. And stores it next to the version you whisper when you want him most.
5. âI wouldnât beg. If it came to that. âŚBut only for you. And only once.âHeâs not that man. He doesnât plead. Doesnât bend. But when he thinks of you leaving â really leaving â something dark and fragile coils behind his ribs. He tells himself heâd let you go. That he wouldnât chase. But even in the lie⌠heâs already halfway down the hallway.
5 Things That Make Sylus Go Completely Feral (In Lust, Not Rage)
1. You ask him to zip your dress. Then donât wear anything underneath.
Itâs casual. Innocent. âHelp me?â You turn your back, lift your hair, and wait. He moves slow â almost reverent. But when his fingers meet bare skin where silk should be⌠he doesnât finish the zip. He turns you around, steps in close, and says, âYou came dressed for trouble. Good. So did I.â
2. You say âdonât be gentleâ with a smile that promises youâll say it again, louder.
He always controls the pace. The heat. The rhythm. But when you lean in, lips brushing his ear, and whisper those words â something in him fractures. He doesnât ask if youâre sure. He doesnât give you time to change your mind. He just obeys. And makes sure you feel the echo for days.
3. You use his tie to pull him into a kiss.
He likes power. Centered, composed. Collar straight, voice cool. But when you grab that perfect silk tie, wrap it around your fingers, and yank â he stumbles into you like a man starved. You kiss him once. He kisses you back like vengeance.
4. You say âyes, sirâ in a tone that means the opposite.
You drawl it. Sweet. Defiant. Like you know exactly what it does to him. He doesnât argue. Doesnât smile. Just leans in, voice low against your throat, and says, âKeep using that tone, kitten. Letâs see how long you last when I take it seriously.â You donât last long. Not that night.
5. You put on his ring and ask, âSo what does this buy me?â
Itâs a joke. Almost. You twirl it on your finger, playful, reckless. He watches. Then smiles slow, wicked. âThat?â he says, stepping closer. âThat buys you a night where I donât stop until you forget your own name.â And just like that, you do.
5 Power Couple Moments That Made Everyone Else Jealous (And a Little Scared)
1. The earring incident at the casino.
You dropped it. Somewhere between the blackjack table and the bar. Nothing dramatic â until your face shifted. That quiet flicker of loss. Sylus didnât sigh. Didnât scold. Just raised a brow. And a dozen seasoned criminals began crawling across the velvet floor. They found it in twenty minutes. You wore it for the rest of the night. He wore the look of a man whoâd moved the world back into place.
2. The arrivals are always his favorite part.
You come back from missions â tired, sore, alive. And there it is: his sportscar. Engine humming. Heâs waiting with a bouquet of roses so rare you donât recognize half the species. The entire terminal watches. You donât. Youâre too busy smiling. He says, âWelcome home.â And just like that, the war disappears from your shoulders.
3. The seat at the head of the table.
It was a high-stakes meeting. Old money. Dangerous names. Sylus led you in by the hand â then pulled out his chair. You blinked. He said nothing. And while you sat at the head, calm and poised, he stood behind you like a king who knows exactly where real power sits. No one even dared raise a brow.
4. The auction. Your hand. His silence.
He gave you the paddle. Not instructions. You bid on instinct â numbers rising, tension thick. The item? A rare protocore with blackout-level clearance. Sylus didnât flinch. Not once.
And when the gavel dropped â he leaned in, lips brushing your ear, and said, âYou can spend my money however you want, kitten. Just make sure they see you doing it.â
5. The moment the room lost him to you.
It was mid-negotiation. Tense. Crucial. Every word counted. But across the table, your fingers tapped. Your eyes glazed. You were bored. Sylus watched. Then stood. âDealâs done,â he said. âYouâll take our terms.â And somehow, they did. Because the only person in the room whose attention he wanted â was already drifting.
5 Times Sylus Was a Walking Red Flag But You Loved Him Anyway
1. He knows whatâs in your delivery before you do.
No one told him. But every time you order something â clothes, tech, vitamins â itâs re-screened. Not stopped. Not blocked. Just⌠âverified.â You only noticed when your favorite moisturizer showed up improved. New formula. Better scent. Hand-selected. Of course.
2. He said heâd put you on IV if you skip another meal.
You were busy. Distracted. He asked what youâd eaten. You said, âDoes coffee count?â He laughed. Once. And muttered something about installing a medical station in your apartment.
He was âjoking.â Until you saw the discreet courier bring an IV stand the next day. Just in case.
3. He took you to dinner at a place you hadnât been since Academy.
You didnât realize where you were â until you saw your ex across the room. The one who cheated. Sylus just smiled. You were in a dress that made people stop breathing. He ordered champagne. Lobster. Left a four-digit tip. And made sure your ex saw everything. Including the way you kissed Sylus on the way out.
4. He froze your accounts. Just to prove a point.
You said you didnât need his money. You insisted on âindependence.â So he waited until your card declined at the pharmacy. Then texted: âYou have my black card. Use it. Or stay home.â
You gave in. He sent flowers.
5. He apologized like a storm front.
You fought. It was ugly. The next day, a gift arrived at HQ. Then another. Then six more. By day four, your car was full. You marched to his door, furious. He opened it, leaned against the frame, and said, âTook you long enough. Come yell at me. Iâll pour the wine.â
Finally, my first mermay drawing for this month đ§ââď¸ i dont think i will be doing any of the prompts thou, i am too busy đ but im hoping to do at least two more.
Anyway i thought it would be appropriate to start with the pretty merman and sassy princess, Rafayel from Love and Deepspace.
Im obsessed with this game. Is my comfort gaming lol and I have been wanting to draw these guys for so long! I will eventually do the other ones đ
Waking up next to Rafayel has to be a dream come true. Or perhaps a beautiful nightmare. It is a dream right? ..... Right?
pt. 1 here
Self-Aware!Rafayel who throws a fit whenever you shower and wonât leave the app open âWhy do you hate me?â âRaf can I please shower in peace?â âI like water tooâ âWell then shower while I showerâ He wants to take you swimming in the Sea with him so bad he constantly brings it up in any conversation about water
Self-Aware!Rafayel who tells you stories of Lemuria as you lay in bed after your, as you called it, eveything shower. âWould you kiss me so I could breathe underwater?â âOf Courseâ
The sound of his soothing voice helped you fall into a deep slumber. You dreamt of white sandy beaches at dawn. The dream was so vivid you could practically feel the sand between your toes. âLetâs go for a swimâ Rafayel appeared at your side seemingly out of thin air. A swim sounded nice so you agreed almost instantly âSure why notâ just as you turned back to run towards the water there was no more sandy beach just jagged edged cliffs and a hundred foot drop. Your heart damn near stalled as you scrambled backwards to keep from going over the edge.
You bumped into Rafayel as you were backing away from the edge. He clasped your shoulders and squeezed gently âDonât be scared. Jumpâ Rafayel looked down at you with a warm smile. Did he really think you were going to jump off this cliff? Dream or not you werenât doing it. âHell no I-â Your lips sealed shut muffling the rest of your sentence. You felt to see if your mouth was still there and it was you just couldnât get it to move. âDonât worryâ Rafayels' voice was so calm as he moved you closer to the edge. You almost felt at ease with the idea of going over the edge
Please donât do this your words rang only in your head as he shoved you over the edge. Time seemed to slow as you plummeted to the watery depths below.
You woke up right as you broke the surface of the water. The stars above you twinkled and danced as you tried to catch your breath.
Wait. The stars? Why is there a glass ceiling?
The room was dark lit by only the moon that hung overhead. It took you a minute to collect your bearings. You could tell that this plush blanket was not yours. Along with the sheets that were as smooth as silk and were quite literally the softest sheets youâd ever felt. Part of you of wanted to snuggle deeper into the bed, but you froze in fear as you felt someone shifting next to you. You held your breath as the person slung an arm over your waist and pulled you closer. âAre you okay?â
That voice.
You see the faint silhouette of an arm wave and the room is lit by candlelight giving the room a soft warm glow. Rafayel sits up leaning over you to see if you are okay. âDo humans always freeze like this?â Your mouth falls open in shock; this has to be a dream right? With a shaky hand you reach up and try to poke Rafayel in the cheek but accidentally end up shoving your finger into his mouth. âAurgh! What the fuck?â He reeled back immediately coughing from your sudden attack.
âOh my gosh youâre realâ you manage to scramble backwards only to fall off of his bed in the process knocking your head on a chair. Stars burst in front of your eyes right before going black.
A few hours laterâŚ.
Sunlight woke you from your concussion induced slumber. That same glass ceiling still hung above you except this time there were clear blue skies. You tried to sit up which only made your head pound âOw!â You grimaced.
âAre you thawed out now?â You turned to see Rafayel still laying in bed next to you. Your fight or flight wanted to kick in, but your head was hurting too bad to even care at this point. âHow are you laying next to me right now? And why did you push me off a cliff?â Rafayel reached up to rub your head and you stiffened under his touch. âThe sea granted me a wish unfortunately I don't control how the wish is grantedâ You stared at him dumbfounded. "So the sea in your world used the sea in mine to bring me here?" Rafayel simply shrugged "Im just glad I can finally go for a swim with you like we talked about"
âRaf I can't stay here" His face fell as you moved his hand away from your head. "What about your binding vow? Am I stuck here? Can I go home? And where are your clothes?â You ripped the blankets up and saw that he was wearing shorts. "Okay forget the last question" You laid back as your rapid fire of questions only made your head hurt more. Rafayel propped himself up on one elbow and leaned over you again. âTo answer your first question cutie we havenât made one yetâ You rolled your eyes âIm talking about the love of your life Rafayelâ
âIâm looking at herâ He looks down at you with the softest expression causing butterflies in your stomach. âI thought I was the one who hit their headâ You turn your head away from his intense stare. Thats when you felt his lips on your temple; you wanted to flinch away, but you found yourself relaxing into it. Rafayel gently turned your head towards him âIm seriousâ his voice was raspy as his breath tickled your lips. You seemed to stop breathing all together. âI really want to kiss you right nowâ he whispered inching closer to you.
âDo itâ
His kiss was just as breathtaking as you imagined it would be. Almost intoxicating. He slid a hand under your head, gently cradling it as he deepened the kiss. You felt his other hand slide up the side of your waist and that's when you stopped him. You shot out a hand to grab his wrist âNo No we need to talkâ
He groaned and fell back on his pillow âAre you sure you donât just want to make out?â He peaked at you hoping for a yes. âIâm literally in a game right now Raf of course I have questionsâ
Rafayel becoming aware he's a game character and becoming aware of you as well pt. 2 here
A/N: Don't fight me
Self-Aware!Rafayel who realizes heâs in a game when he can hear your echoing giggles as you poke his butt. âAre you laughing at me?â you think nothing of it just assuming its another voiceline âHeâs so dramaticâ You mutter to yourself âIm not dramatic!â You chuck your phone across the room and stare at it with your eyes bugging out of your head and your hand covering your mouth. âYou didnât have to throw meâ
Self-Aware!Rafayel who blows your phone up when you take too long to reply. âWhat are you doing?? Do you send me a text and then throw your phone in the ocean?â âI have shit to do Raf!â âDo I not matter to you?â He finds a way to actually video call you and now thats his favorite form of communication. He pouts when you tell him you need to charge your phone because it's about to die. âThe batteries in your world are terrible how long is this charging going to take?â You pat his head as you giggle âgive me 30 minutes at leastâ
Self-Aware!Rafayel who has a fifteen minute existential crisis when he realizes heâs just pixels âWhat?! Am I gonna die if your phone dies?! If im not real how am I talking to you??â âI donât fucking know Raf youâre the one who randomly broke the fourth wall one dayâ
Self-Aware!Rafayel who judges people with you in public for a laugh âPlease tell me you heard thatâ âYea a whole wife and child on the side is crazyâ
Self-Aware!Rafayel who didn't understand your SpongeBob jokes an now its his favorite cartoon after watching it on FaceTime with you. He's constantly making SpongeBob jokes as well now. "What are you eating?" "A Milky Way" "What's that?" "A chocolate bar with caramel-" "Chocolate? I remember when they first invented chocolate" "I bet you do...." "đ"
Self-Aware!Rafayel who paints portraits of you and saves them in your album. He finds himself constantly using you as his muse every time he picks up a brush. âWhy donât you paint MC anymore?â âI may or may not have someone else swimming through my mindâ
Self-Aware!Rafayel who feels comfortable enough to be vulnerable with you since you already know his history. He told himself not to fall for you and is now driving himself crazy wishing heâd made a binding vow with you instead
Rafayel: Maybe your souls got mixed up and I was supposed to be with you
Y/N: I donât think thatâs how that works Raf you were made to find her in every life
Rafayel: âŚâŚbut it feels like I was meant to find you
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