MINORS DONT INTERACT writing blog: https://www.tumblr.com/mystery-soulcat?source=share Loyal to my man Life is delulu at this point and other fixations
Its that time of the year again, the last day of Spring and the final day of April.
Xavier found himself at the beach again, sitting and staring at the serene ocean The waves lapped gently against the shore, coming and going in their timeless rhythm. The sun is just about to set, painting the sky in shades of warm red, orange and yellow.
Xavier soaked in the view in front of him as if he is seeing the view for the first time. Looking around with curious eyes, taking in the beautiful scenery unfold. Then came the sound—the soft, familiar footsteps approaching from his right, slow but sure. The footsteps stopped just behind him.
“You came here again? I thought you left already. Left me…” Xavier said softly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips, without looking who it was. He didn’t need to see or turn around, he knew the person already.
“I was always here and I never left you Xavier.” Daphne said as she sat down beside him on the beach, her voice gentle, like the breeze that danced across the sand.
“Hmm. But it’s… it’s been so long. “Xavier turned to look at her. Her face, lit by the glow of the setting sun, looked just like it had the first day he saw her—soft, warm, and achingly beautiful. He raised a hand to her cheek, brushing it tenderly. She leaned into his touch, placing her hand over his.
“Yes, so what? Why does it matter how long has it been? Am I not allowed to stay any longer?” Daphne said in a playful manner but her words held weight.
Xavier hesitantly lowered his hand, curling it into a fist in his lap. He looked away, down at the waves that were now brushing against his feet.
“You are,” he whispered. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want. But… I can’t hold you back anymore. It’s time to let go.” he said looking up to the sky, tears brimming his eyes. Xavier heard a long sigh coming from Daphne. She looked at him and then faced the vast ocean in front of them, a smile still playing on her lips.
“So, you are here to say goodbye. (Sighs) and here I thought you missed me enough to come spend time with me” She let out a low chuckle.
“I do miss you, my star,” Xavier replied, voice breaking. “More than you’ll ever know. I’m sorry it took me so long to come back. Forgive me, if you can.”
Silence stretched between them, only the crashing of waves and the chirping of the last of the birds could be heard.
“It’s alright. I forgave you a long time ago my love.” Daphne said with longing in her eyes. She stood up and dusted off the sand from her dress.
“I guess it’s a goodbye then Xavier.”
Xavier looks at her, he tries to say something but doesn’t find the right words to express himself. He lets his eyes talk. Daphne stared back at him. Their eyes meet, Xavier stood up before her, towering over her slightly, reaching for her hands and giving them a gentle squeeze.
“I will always remember you Daphne… Forever and always” Xavier said with a sad but knowing smile.
“I know you will Xavier.”
She gave him one last smile, a single tear slipping down her cheek.
She leaned forward and pressed a kiss beside his lips, Xavier closed his eyes and leaned into that kiss before opening his eyes again.
A gust of wind swept across the beach, and Xavier instinctively shielded his face from the blowing sand. He looked up again, gone was the presence he once felt. Gone was the warm embrace of the person he thought he will live his forever with and the warmth replaced by the cold breeze of the sea.
She was gone.
The beach was empty. He was alone.
The sun had nearly disappeared into the horizon taking away the warmth and cherished colours, giving its way to the purples and deep blues as night fell. Xavier sat there in silence, knees pulled close to his chest, a single Polaroid cradled in his hand.
He kissed the photograph gently and laid it beside him in the sand.
Above, a single star twinkled a little brighter than the rest. A tear traced down Xavier’s face as he looked up, then back at the ocean stretching endlessly before him.
The Polaroid sat nestled beside him—an image frozen in time. It was a picture of him and Daphne, taken on her birthday years ago.
And as if whispering a secret meant only for her, Xavier spoke his final words to the wind.
“I love you.”
This was the concept art for the story - Xavier and Daphne on the beach before the nightfalls.
soooooooooooooooooo... yay first post in a longgggggggggg time. I know the wedding banner came out 2 days ago and here I am writing a .... story. So i hope u guys like the story and ya Enjoy. Also Ranting a little
For the first time I attended a Lads livestream and I died sort of seeing all those new features ands tuffs so All the best to everyone out there. Plus just wanated to say I am gonna just be writing xavier's fics first becoz I am still not that close or well known with the other guys and dont want to do any injuctice towards the characters so after a point I will be writing about them too. I do have a idea marinating in my head but it needs more marination so ya. Enjoy this for now.
a/n: hi hi !! i hope u enjoy this sweet little domestic piece with xavier hehe :3 requested by @cnavyblue i hope u like it :D that last paragraph is actually top 7 things ive written ever i think so that’s fun ! let me know what u guys think <3
tags/warnings: none ! all domestic fluff <3 wc: 1.1k
today had been exhausting, horrendous, downright atrocious even. a sigh of relief leaves your body the second you close your front door behind you, taking a moment to close your eyes and just breathe. you fight back tears, no, you weren’t going to cry. not tonight at least. tonight you would take care of yourself in the way you knew always worked.
you let the hot water in the shower wash away your worries, using your favorite products and listening to your favorite music. you don’t bother drying your hair, throwing on the sweatshirt you’d stolen from xavier and lighting your favorite candle, humming to yourself as you waited for the popcorn to finish popping.
as you settled into your couch, a small smile etched on your lips. yeah, this was what you needed. you turned to the side slightly, the bunbun plush next to you stared back at you.
you were just missing one crucial thing. he was probably still awake, right?
you: hiii are u awake still :P
angel eyes: yeah, can’t sleep
angel eyes: R U ok?
you: yeah… join me for a romcom ?? :]
the three dots appear and disappear quickly, a small flash of light coming from your bedroom makes you smile widely. you hear the bedroom door creak open and footsteps coming down the hall. messy silver hair and shining blue eyes round the corner to your living room, grey sweat shorts hanging on his hips paired with a black t shirt. you don’t bother hiding the way your eyes trail up his legs, lingering on his thick thighs before finally meeting his eyes.
“so you’ve given up on front doors completely then?” you smile, xavier’s eyes quickly find yours, a smile breaking onto his face as he makes his way towards you.
“didn’t wanna spend anymore time apart from you,” he pouts, you giggle at the way his brows furrow sadly. “long day?” he asks, settling in easily in the space next to you, wiggling a bit until you’re comfortable, you body nestled right up against his and popcorn bowl placed perfectly between his legs.
you hum in response, letting your head rest on his chest as you grab the remote, scrolling through available romcoms before finally landing on one.
“if you’re a bird I’m a bird,” xavier mumbles to you quietly as the movie starts, placing a gentle kiss to your temple. you can’t help the giant grin on your face as you turn to look at your lover.
“when did you watch the notebook?” you tease, savoring the way he smiles sheepishly as his cheeks turn the shade of pink you adore on him.
“i really like romcoms,” he mutters, face turning to avoid yours. a small gasp leaves your lips, quickly replaced by incessant giggles when you cup his cheeks with both hands, forcing him to look at you.
“my hopeless romantic,” you smile softly, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of his nose. xavier smiles, blinking quickly before placing his hands softly on either side of your face, grinning before placing a kiss to your lips. you squeak softly, eyes fluttering shut and whining when he pulls away with a quiet chuckle.
“for you, always.”
you giggle at his words, ignoring the way your face heats up and refraining from commenting on his bright red ears. it was true though, he was a hopeless romantic.
memories of him constantly giving you flowers, sharing headphones, buying you things, confessing his feelings to you after you’d argued and he almost burst into tears, kissing in the rain. the thought made you smile, xavier noticed, of course he did.
xavier only cared for romcoms because he knew you’d love them. he knew you’d want a love so strong they’d run in the rain for you, a love so deep that no matter what happens, your lover would find their way to you. and he gave you that, time and time again he was your fated lover.
neither of you made it past the thirty minute mark of the movie, exhaustion creeping up on the two of you. the comfort of being home with the person you trust the most made your eyelids heavier.
you pretended to be awake when xavier stirred next to you, eyes glued to the screen for half a second before you head lolled forward. xavier didn’t bother acting, soft snores leaving his lips as sweet scenes unfolded on the television.
loud arguments from the movie caused the two of you to jump slightly, eyes bleary as you both blinked quickly and tried to cover up the micronap you’d just taken.
“did you fall asleep?” you ask quietly, rubbing your eyes as xavier yawned.
“… no, did you?” you stare at xavier with narrowed eyes, he blinks rapidly under your gaze before the slightest smile appears on his lips. “okay maybe for a bit.”
“it’s okay, me too,” you chuckle, grabbing the remote and pausing the movie. you stretch with a quiet groan, letting your body fall limp onto your lover.
“‘m so tired, can’t do anything anymore,” you mumble, eyes closing on their own accord as you listen to xavier’s steady heartbeat.
“then we don’t have to,” he replied simply, placing the popcorn bowl on your coffee table before maneuvering his arms underneath you. “let’s just go to sleep, tomorrow we can have a movie night, sound good?” his quiet voice only helps lull you deeper into sleep.
“mhm,” you hum, arms wrapped around his neck as he walks to your bedroom, tucking you into bed. he slips out of his clothes and joins you under the sheets. you smile slightly at the smell of his body wash and cologne, curling your arms tighter around him. xavier feels his stomach flip at the action.
“you won’t leave right?” you slur, right on the line between lucid and asleep. xavier holds back a chuckle at your words, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before letting his eyes flutter shut.
“i won’t ever leave you, my star,” he whispers, “I’ll be right here with you, always.” your silence makes his eyes open, heartbeat calming when he finds you’ve just fallen asleep. he lets out a small sigh, “i love you starlight, more than you know.”
maybe engraved in his dna along with the nucleic bases you were woven in, a part of who he was no matter what. it was always going to be you, nothing could change that. not the timeline he was in, not the world he inhabited or the role he played.
it was always you and him, and he wouldnt have it any other way.
masterlist
taglist: @hirayalia @violasepals @txtworlddom @mrs-lixiaqin @pjselee @luvyizhou @colonelkaboom @xyzsbaobei @ellavelysworld @floatingpalelilies @stillseiims @cocoaxia @goddesssevenseas @latte-ghost @vanillaapples send and ask to be added :3
Your heartbeat quickening, you rush into the basement. "Valko, sweetheart?" you call, your voice echoing down the long hallway.
A soft grunt sounds, causing you to freeze and flick on the light, staring down the hallway.
"Val? Are you down here?" you ask.
"In here." His tone is clipped, so unlike him in a way that has your heart breaking.
You follow his voice, finally pulling open the half-empty closet at the end of the hall.
There, shoved in a mess of blankets, towels, and quilts, is Valko, curled tightly into a ball. His fluffy ears lay flat against his skull, his tail puffed out.
"There you are, my love," you murmur, crouching down. "Are you alright?"
Valko nods with a lash of his tail. You don't believe him for a minute.
"What happened?" you ask, shifting closer to wrap an arm around his shoulders.
Valko sighs, shoving his nose into your neck and inhaling shakily. "Everything's too loud with my ears," he admits, voice shaking. "M'head hurts."
A sigh of relief leaves you. Of course, you hate to see him hurting, but at least he's safe at home.
"Cutie!" Rafayel's voice echoes down the hall. Valko whimpers, curling in on himself, hands flying to cover his ears. "Is he down here?"
You poke your head out of the closet, shoving a finger over your mouth to silence him. Rafayel's eyes widen and he rushes to meet you.
"I'm sorry. We were looking for you," you whisper to Valko, who's lowered his hands again. "Raf, can you let everyone know he's okay? Just needs some peace and quiet."
Rafayel opens his mouth, probably to ask a million questions, but he thinks better of it and nods, heading back down the hallway and up the stairs.
"What can I do to help you?" you ask, running a hand through his hair.
"Just stay," Valko mumbles, voice shaking.
Several minutes later, two pairs of soft footsteps approach, and Caleb and Sylus appear in the doorway. In Caleb's hands is a small black box.
"Val?" Caleb asks, crouching. "We have somethin' for you."
Valko peeks out from your neck, one ear briefly rotating towards them before it presses against his skull again.
"We were going to give them to you for your birthday, but I believe you'll find them more useful now."
Caleb holds out the box, smiling, and Valko takes it with shaking hands.
"Thanks," he says, a bit confused, and pulls the lid off of the box. Inside, nestled among some foam, are two uniquely-shaped gadgets, made partially of foam.
"They're earplugs," Sylus explains when Valko just stares at them. "Specifically designed for your wolf ears. They offer various levels of noise cancellation, and will also connect to your phone for music."
Tail thumping, not in irritation this time, Valko carefully takes them from the box and inserts them into his ears. After some fiddling, his wagging tail speeds up.
"Comfy?" Caleb asks.
"Yeah," Valko says, his voice a bit louder from the noise cancellation. "How do you turn them up?"
Caleb shifts closer. "There's two buttons on the left one." He presses the button a few times, watching as Valko's smile grows each time.
After a long minute, Valko closing his eyes as he basks in the silence, he taps the other button, turning down the noise cancellation.
"Thank you," he says, voice a bit raspy, his eyes watery. "This is really, really great. Did you make them?"
"Yes. Xavier helped, too," Sylus says, leaning against the closet doorway. "You like them?"
"I love them." Valko pulls himself from your arms and throws himself at Caleb, squeezing him as tight as possible, Caleb letting out a wheezy laugh. Sylus gets an equally tight hug. "Thank you both."
"You're very welcome, puppy," Sylus says.
"It's the least we can do," Caleb says with a grin, standing to kiss his cheek. "Are you feeling better?"
Valko nods. "My head still hurts, but it's not bad."
"Well, I think our doctor must have a remedy for that," Sylus says with a smile, placing a hand on the small of his back. "Let's go join the others, shall we?"
A Protocore throws you and Xavier two years into the future. You end up on his balcony. Your future selves end up against the glass door 😏.
CW: Smut. Jealousy. P in V 🔞MDNI🔞
Huge thanks to @stardustsirens for helping me with this series! 🧡🧡🧡
Caleb's part here
"Please tell me that's the last one"
The air reeked of burned grass and dead wanderers. You let out a long breath and let your shoulders drop as the last Wanderer dissolved into light that flickered once and went dark.
A few paces away, Xavier had a few hair strands stuck to his forehead and a thin sheen of sweat at his throat, and that was the extent of the damage. Meanwhile you looked like you'd been dragged behind a truck.
"Perimeter's clear," he said, quiet, like nothing in the world could rattle him. He crossed the debris toward you, boots crunching over glass and rubble. "You're bleeding, though."
You looked down. A chunk of crystal debris had opened a gash along your calf and you hadn't even noticed.
"Huh. Didn't feel that happen."
"Let me look at it." He dropped to one knee, taking a bandage roll out of your hands before you'd even fully pulled it from your pouch.
His hands were warm. Warmer than it made sense, given the cold. When he folded the torn fabric of your pants back to get at the wound, his fingers grazed bare skin and something jumped straight up your spine. You bit down on the inside of your cheek so you wouldn't make a sound about it.
This was the problem with Xavier. Some days he fell asleep against your shoulder like it was the safest place in the world. Other days he kept a careful distance between you and answered everything in a polite, unreadable tone, and you were left wondering if you'd imagined the whole thing.
"Does that hurt?" his thumb pressed against the unbroken skin just above it — the touch was not necessary to wrap the bandage.
"A little," you said, watching the top of his head, how the moonlight caught the color of his hair. "Xavier. Can I ask you something?"
His hands didn't stop moving, but his shoulders went still. "Yeah."
"Why do you do this?" You asked flatly, too tired to dress it up. "Sometimes I think we’re... I don't know, really close. And then other times, you look at me like I'm just another Hunter from the Association. It's confusing."
He finished tying off the gauze, stood up and finally looked at you "I just think about things. More than I probably should."
He reached out to help you up, hands closing firm around your forearms.
"Think about what?"
You went to test your weight on the bandaged leg and the ground chose that second to be uneven. You pitched forward, right into him, your chest hitting his. His hands slid from your arms to your waist to catch you.
Neither of you moved.
You could feel his heart going fast under his uniform, which didn't match the calm on his face at all. His eyes dropped to your mouth, came back up.This is happening, you thought, a little dizzy with it. He's actually going to—.
His grip on your waist tightened. Something cracked open behind his eyes, just for a second "You shouldn't stand this close to me"
"Xavier—"
He stepped back before you could get anything else out.
Crunch. Something snapped under his boot.
A white protocore.
He picked it and it suddenly went off with light, a white light expanding outward faster than you could track. The air got sucked straight out of your lungs. Your ears popped hard enough to hurt, and then the ruins, the sky, and everything else was sucked into a roar of wind that yanked you forward like the world had grabbed you by the throat.
You hit something solid and warm.
"Oof — sorry —"
A grunt came from underneath you. You blinked against sudden dark, hands slapping down flat against Xavier's chest. You were sprawled on top of him, legs tangled, face mashed against his neck.
"Oh my god." You scrambled back so fast you scraped your palms on the floor. "Sorry — are you okay?"
Xavier sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his neck, hair falling into his eyes. "Fine. Are you hurt?"
"No, I— " You stopped. Looked around. "Wait."
You weren't standing in the ruins anymore. You were standing on a balcony with black wrought iron railing and a view of city streets that looked oddly familiar.
"Is this our building?" You turned in a slow circle, "Xavier, did you just teleport us home?"
"I didn't teleport us anywhere."
"You definitely did something..."
"I didn't" He was already moving past you toward the railing, scanning it like it might answer a question you hadn't asked yet.
"Okay, well, something got us here," you said, following him. "So if it wasn't you, what was it?"
He didn't answer right away. He crouched by one of the plants, fingers brushing the soil. Damp. Recently turned. "I don't have an explanation for this."
"When did you get so many plants?."
He moved to a small table near, where two mugs sat, both used, one rimmed faintly with lipstick.
"This is kind of freaking me out."
You spotted a newspaper folded beside the mugs and reached for it before he could stop you.
The date on the header didn't make sense. You read it twice.
"Xavier." You held it out to him, throat tight.
He took it, scanning it fast, and for the first time all night something like real alarm broke through his usual calm. "This is two years out."
"Two years." You said it slow, testing the weight of it. "Okay. We're just —somewhere else. Somewhere with your exact view, which is a really specific coincidence, but fine, sure, this is wrong, so so wrong—"
"Calm down."
"Xavier."
"What."
You pointed, wordless, toward the far corner of the balcony, where a lumpy, badly painted bird feeder hung crooked from its hook, one wing chipped clean off. You'd have known it anywhere.
"That's Fatso"s" you said.
Xavier followed your finger, and whatever he'd been telling himself died on his face.
You grabbed for your communicator on reflex. Dead screen. "No signal," you said, more to yourself than to him.
"Mine's the same. Clock's not even holding steady." He pocketed the device "We need to see what's inside. If someone's living here, we ask them what year it is."
"Oh yeah because that is a completely normal question to walk in and ask a stranger."
"Stay behind me," he reached for the handle on the sliding glass door, testing the weight of it without committing to opening it yet. Behind the curtain, something moved.
You froze. Your fingers found the sleeve of his uniform and held on.
A hand pressed flat against the glass from the other side of the curtain, fingers spread.
Xavier looked ready to run.
A second hand appeared beside it. Bigger. Scarred across the knuckles. Something in your chest went cold with recognition even before your brain caught up. The second hand moved to close over the first, fingers lacing through.
There were two people on the other side of that door. And from the way the curtain was moving, they were not just standing there.
"Xavier," you whispered, barely any air behind it at all.
He didn't answer. He didn't move his hand off the door either —just stood there frozen, staring at those hands through the glass like his whole nervous system had collapsed.
Then he moved. His hand closed around your shoulder and pulled, one smooth backward motion that tucked you both into a narrow space where the balcony wall met the building's outer brick. The spot was tight —barely enough room for two people to stand without touching —and the angle it gave you was merciless. The glass door sat directly in your line of sight, lit from inside.
You should have looked away immediately.
But you didn't.
The curtains moved a bit. Two bodies, pressed close. The woman's face was hidden, her head tipped back behind the line of the man's shoulder. His face was visible. Hair catching the light. That jaw.
Xavier
The anger came fast and hot and settled behind your sternum like coal. Months of warmth and then distance. Months of patience that felt like it was always just about to become something and never did —and here was the answer to all of it, pressed against a glass door in an apartment that was still his, two years from now, with someone else.
He was kissing her the way someone kisses when they've stopped being careful about it. Deep, his hands dragging her back against him, the movements of his lower body slow and unmistakable.
You looked away. Focused on a crack running through the middle of the wall beside you. Breathed through your nose.
Beside you, Xavier was still looking. His face was flushed.
"Is that—" His voice came out wrong.
"Yup," you said. The bitterness in it sharper than you'd intended. "That's you"
A sound came through the glass.
The impact of skin against the glass door followed immediately by a broken moan, the sound dragged your eyes back to the glass door against your will.
The curtain had been pulled aside all the way.
The view was now unobstructed.
The woman was pressed flat against the glass, her bare breasts against the cold pane, her hands finding the frame for something to hold onto. Her face was fully visible now.
The anger in your chest went out like a light.
It was your face.
Your shoulders, your hands, the sound of your own voice coming through the glass in pieces, breathless and nothing like anything you'd heard from yourself before. Your future self's cheek was pressed to the glass too, eyes half closed, lips parted around sounds that weren't words.
Future Xavier's teeth found her shoulder and bit down, not gently, leaving something that would be visible tomorrow. His hand came around the front of her, sliding between her thighs to line his beautiful cock against her entrance.
Then he drove forward.
The sound she made came through the glass loud and clear and a small involuntary noise started building in your own throat.
Xavier's palm came over your mouth.
Fast. Firm. His fingers sealing the sound in before it could escape. His hand was shaking.
The glass door shook with the next impact. And the next.
Xavier had his mouth at her ear saying something you couldn't hear through the glass but could read in the way her expression changed when he said it.
Xavier made half a sound against the back of your head and he immediately swallowed the other half.
You felt it anyway. Felt the way his arm tightened across your chest, felt the unsteady rhythm of his breathing where his chest pressed into your back.
You couldn't look away from his face —the future version of the face that was currently breathing against your temple— wearing an expression you'd never seen on him before.
"Xavier," you said, against his palm. Muffled.
His arm tightened.
"Xavier." Louder this time, enough that he could feel the shape of his name against his hand.
His mouth dropped to your ear "Don't move." The words came out rough "If they see us—"
Inside the apartment, your future self pressed her palm hard against her lips.
Future Xavier's hand closed around her wrist.
He pulled it down. He held her hand at her side and kept it there, and when she turned her face toward him he was already looking at her.
He wanted to hear her.
Below you a glass door scraped open.
One floor down, a man stepped out onto his balcony. Cigarette unlit between his fingers, head tilted slightly, listening to the night.
You pressed further into the shadow.
The rhythm inside the apartment changed. Not slower. The opposite. The glass shook in its frame and the sounds coming through it stopped being something that could be mistaken for anything else, and the man one floor down stopped trying to light his cigarette.
You looked at future Xavier's face.
His eyes were angled down and to the left.
He picked up the pace.
She tried again, her hand came up toward her mouth. Future Xavier caught her wrist without looking and his mouth moved against her ear again.
Whatever it was, she stopped trying to be quiet.
You thought about what you'd just watched him do. The escalation. The man on the balcony below. The reason your future self's hand kept getting pulled back down.
Was he jealous of that stranger?
Inside, her feet left the ground. Xavier had both arms around her, her arms caught under his, breast bouncing with every thrust.
You saw it first.
An unmistakable pressure beneath the surface of her stomach. Moving with every thrust. A belly bulge.
Your mouth went dry.
She was dripping. You could see it even through the glass —the inside of her thighs slick and glistening where his movements had worked everything down, coating her skin, catching the apartment light every time he pulled back. The glass had a faint fog to it from her breath, small clouds appearing and disappearing with each exhale.
The deep flush running from her chest to her throat made something in your lower stomach pull tight.
The Xavier beside you tracked every place her body responded to him, her hardened nipples, the way her toes curled against nothing, the flutter beneath her skin that mapped exactly where he was.
Crash
A flower pot.
It hit the floor and you both stopped breathing.
Inside the apartment, silence.
Immediate and total.
Through the glass you watched future Xavier's head come up. No panic in it. No confusion. Just a slow turn toward the sound, his eyes moving through the dark until they found the spot where the two of you were standing.
He couldn't see you. The angle was wrong, the shadow too deep.
He knew someone was there anyway.
His expression went cold and your future self said something against his chest. The curtain moved slowly across the glass from inside and the light behind it went out.
You had thirty seconds. Maybe less.
Xavier crouched beside you. The Protocore looked small against his palm, throwing a faint white pulse between his fingers for just a second.
The glass door began to slide open.
The air changed, the balcony, the broken pot, the man with his unlit cigarette, all of it collapsing into white noise and rushing dark.
You hit the ground hard. Your knees met broken stone, the air was knocked out of you on impact and you spent the first few seconds just existing on the ground.
Xavier landed beside you.
You pushed yourself up to sitting. "So..."
Xavier said nothing.
"That was weird."
Still nothing.
"We were—"
"I saw it" he opened his hand and noticed the Protocore was gone "I was standing right next to you."
"So we're both aware of what we watched."
"Yes."
"And we're not going to talk about it?"
He looked at you. "Are you going to be able to not talk about it?"
"Probably not."
He made a sound that wasn't quite a sigh, stood up and offered you a hand. You took it and he pulled you to your feet and didn't immediately let go.
"That man on the balcony," you said.
Xavier's jaw moved. "What about him."
"Future you saw him and then—"
"I know what he did." He dropped your hand. Turned to look at anything that wasn't your face. "You don't need to walk me through it."
"I'm just—" You pressed your lips together, trying very hard not to smile, it felt inappropriate and also completely unavoidable "Was he showing off?"
"We're not talking about that."
"Xavier—"
"Not yet." He said it quietly. Just a line in the ground, clearly drawn. "Not tonight. There's—" He exhaled. "There's a lot I need to sit with before I talk about any of it."
You nodded. That felt fair.
You started walking, picking your way back through the rubble toward the gap in the wall where you'd come in, and Xavier fell into step beside you like he always did —slightly behind, slightly to your left, a position that meant he could see everything around you before you could.
The walk back was quiet. You were almost at the gap in the wall when he spoke.
"Can I ask you something."
"Go ahead."
He was quiet for a beat. Just long enough that you glanced over at him.
"Future me?" he said. "Or me?"
You stopped walking. "What?"
"You heard me. Who do you like more?
"Xavier, that's not—you are the same person—"
"Future me is two years ahead and has information I don't have and he was doing—" a small pause, "—things to you that I have not yet done. So. Future me or me?"
You stared at him.
He stared back.
"That is the most ridiculous question you've ever asked me"
"Humor me."
"You"
Something in his face changed.
"Good," he said.
"But future you did have his—"
The not quite smile disappeared. "We're going home," he said, and turned toward the gap in the wall.
You followed him, and you were very glad he was walking ahead of you this time because the smile on your face was not something you were ready to explain.
﹙♡﹚here i am, bringing more cutesy content for dad! lads 𐔌՞◞ ˕ ◟՞𐦯 ♡ i'm feeling extremely maternal, in case it wasn't obvious already. hope you like it! ♡ ꒰ˆ◞⸝⸝◟ˆ ꒱੭ﾞ
𐙚˙⋆.˚ caleb! ꒰੭
caleb had surrendered long ago.
in fact, he surrendered the moment she was born.
he adored her; he'd move any and every mountain for her, he'd rather jump out of his aircraft with no parachute before saying something that could make her cry.
so, if his princess wanted to paint his nails, how on earth could he say no to her?
he sat down on the floor, legs crossed underneath him, hands outstretched as his little girl focused on painting each of his nails.
sunset orange, crimson apple, sky-blue nail polish… and glitter.
lots of glitter.
naturally, his three-year-old had the hands of a shaky old lady, painting his skin, cuticles, and even his knuckles whenever she got distracted.
but it didn't matter, really.
her brows were furrowed, her nose scrunched up, and she squealed in sheer delight every time she finished painting one nail.
“another!” she clapped her little hands, moving from side to side to fetch a different color, repeating the process ten times.
caleb stared down at his long fingers, his manly, calloused fingertips and… his now shiny, colorful fingernails with a fond smile.
they were a mess.
but they were his daughter's mess, which automatically made them beautiful.
“great job, pumpkin,” he kissed her cheek repeatedly, making her giggle and squeak like a little mouse. “now dada is beautiful, just like you.”
she squirmed and jumped in front of him, pointing at his feet with a wide smile.
“toesies!” she exclaimed, grabbing her little bottles of nail polish, ready to keep going until her little heart was completely happy.
caleb parted his lips to protest, but he soon closed them.
instead, he stretched out his legs, his fingers hooking under the elastic of his socks.
of course.
he totally forgot he had unconsciously signed up for a mani-pedi… and anything else his daughter wanted to do.
but since something as simple as painting his nails made his baby apple the happiest, giggliest bundle of joy, he'd grow twenty more fingers just to put a smile on her tiny face.~
𐙚˙⋆.˚ rafayel! ꒰੭
rafayel absolutely loved his little pebble's games, especially those that required him to relax and stay still.
he lay down on the couch, closing his eyes as his pretty girl ran from side to side, carrying lotions, creams, and cucumber slices.
she wanted to give her papa a spa day, and that meant rafayel would be pampered while getting some quality time with his princess.
how could he resist?
at first, he enjoyed the feeling of the soft, fragrant creams being massaged into his cheeks…
but he seemed to forget something little kids love doing.
potions.
a mix of creams, water, shampoo, liquid soap, and, uh, some expired liquid they found somewhere.
his little pebble was an expert in that field, with lots of pretty bottles filled with colorful concoctions whose ingredients she couldn't remember.
when she placed cucumber slices over his eyelids and then poured something a bit slimy and pungent over his face, he tensed up.
“pebble? what… uh, what is that, hm?” he tried to smile, convincing himself this was still a good idea.
“facial cream!” she shrugged, even though he couldn't see her, peeking inside the bottle with delight.
that tone was far too excited for his liking.
something was fishy.
rafayel took the slices off and blinked, his eyes immediately spotting her sticky, gross fingers.
“is… is that mud?” he whispered, almost breathlessly.
“yeah! and sparkles! and my strawberry shampoo, and papa's paint!”
paint…?
“oh, princess, paint isn't supposed to—!”
he tried to move, but she quickly pushed him back, telling him that he needed to stay very still for the facial.
his heart melted a little, but his skin started to burn.
he felt like a fish being marinated.
however, he sighed in theatrical defeat, letting her continue anyway with his eyes closed.
this was good for her creative development, he thought.
the slimy mix wasn't disgusting, he thought.
his baby was happy, he thought.
if he was destined to have a reddened, irritated, sparkly face, courtesy of his precious little pebble, then he'd give in.~
𐙚˙⋆.˚ sylus! ꒰੭
there was no such thing as an unnecessary gift in sylus' eyes.
his twin girls deserved the world, and if they asked for drones, robots, dolls, or make-up, he'd get them for them in the blink of an eye.
today, though, sylus questioned his choices as one of the twins almost poked his eye out with a mascara wand, and the other pulled his hair while trying to give him ponytails.
luke and kieran didn't dare laugh, because they knew they'd be next.
sylus' lips were glossy, his eyelids were black and shimmering, and his eyelashes were long and luscious.
his hair, on the other hand, was a mix of small braids, tiny ponytails, and hair clips.
“no! use red!” one of the twins said, pointing at her sister.
“nuh-uh! dada looks best in black!” the taller one answered, squinting her crimson eyes. “that ponytail is all wobbly!”
“you do it, then!”
ah, his favorite symphony.
his daughters getting along.
“perhaps you could blend both colors, my doves?” he suggested, only to be met by shrieks and harsh disapproval.
they were the experts, not him.
“hush, dada! we know what we're doing!”
he just sighed, and then offered a slow nod.
“of course you do,” he conceded, both hands traveling up to pat their heads with nothing but affection.
they poked, tugged, brushed, and stained.
thankfully, sylus had a great pain tolerance, so it felt as though he was being tickled.
after an hour, or maybe a bit more, the girls stepped back and clapped in delight, admiring their masterpiece.
sylus looked like a neglected barbie doll, yet his princesses were so, so proud of their work.
“papa looks so pretty!” the shorter one said, bouncing up and down.
“so, so pretty! look!”
sylus didn't dare look at himself when they held up a hand mirror.
he just smiled and pulled them close, kissing each of their foreheads.
“gorgeous, my little doves. i've never looked better.”
and when they beamed and hugged each other, being best friends again, he was more sure than ever.
they deserved it all.~
𐙚˙⋆.˚ valko! ꒰੭
things were way too quiet in your household, and that was almost always a bad sign.
the girls were either doing something they shouldn't, or they were taking naps during the day, which totally messed up their sleep at night.
however, this time, they were quiet for a very, very wholesome reason.
they were taking care of their papa's ears and tail.~
while the youngest daughter rested in your arms, happily asleep, the two-year-old triplets were brushing valko's tail, and adding cutesy bows to his fluffy ears.
they weren't very gentle, but he didn't mind; a little bit of roughhousing meant bonding time.
“papa, no wag…” one of them said, her big, golden eyes narrowing slightly.
she couldn't brush his tail properly if he kept moving it from side to side.
he nodded solemnly, saluting like an obedient soldier.
“yes, ma'am.”
the other two growled at each other, accidentally tugging on his ears as they fought over bows.
“gimme bwue!”
“no! mine!”
“bwue!”
“no!”
valko stayed still, flinching and closing his eyes whenever their tiny fingers clutched or yanked them too hard.
but when their whines, growls, and screeches made the sleeping baby girl stir in your arms, he straightened up and puffed out his chest.
“okay, cocoa pups, what did we say about sharing?”
the two identical girls jumped, exchanged glances, and then gave their best puppy eyes.
“we shawe, we good pups…” they echoed, lips pouty.
valko's heart tightened.
they had him wrapped around their little fingers.
“mhm, good girls,” he sighed tenderly, caressing behind their fluffy, tiny ears. “you three are very good pups.”
soon enough, the other one finished brushing his tail, showing him how much crimson fur he had shed.
“papa! fwuffy!”
valko gasped dramatically, his eyes wide with feigned horror.
“oh no! papa's getting bald!”
the three girls squealed, and hugged him tight, their little heads nuzzling his cheeks and shoulders.
his ears had colorful —and uncomfortably placed— accessories, and the fur on his tail was matted, but his four cocoa pups were safe and happy.
he couldn't ask for anything else.~
𐙚˙⋆.˚ xavier! ꒰੭
xavier usually sat his baby on top of the piano, letting her squeal in joy as he played a song just for her.
but when she turned six, she insisted on learning, and he was more than happy to teach her.
every time he played, she sat on his lap and watched intently, trying to memorize the order of the keys.
although now she felt confident and wanted to give it a try without any help.
“sunshine, are you sure—”
“yeah!” she eagerly nodded, taking a deep breath. the first notes of “twinkle twinkle little star” came out tentatively but accurately.
the more she played, though…
xavier flinched almost imperceptibly.
she stopped abruptly and turned to look at her dada, her lips a bit pouty and her eyebrows furrowed.
“it's okay, my little star,” he assured, pressing his lips to her forehead. “we can try again.”
and she did.
again.
and again…
after multiple failed attempts, she stomped her little foot like an angry bunny, but since her legs were dangling from her father's lap, her heel bumped xavier's leg.
“sunshine,” he breathed out in pain, taking a few seconds to compose himself before pulling her closer.
she shifted and clung to him, hiding her face against his chest.
“i'll never play the piano like you, dada!”
he caressed her soft hair and took a deep breath before starting to play for her.
c, c, g, g, a, a, g…
and then he hit the wrong note, making her jump.
he started over… and made another fatal mistake.
her eyes glimmered with confusion, but then she smiled brightly.
“papa! you got it wrong!” she quickly turned around and guided his hands, and this time, she got the notes right. “see? like that!”
xavier smiled fondly.
she didn't even notice she had memorized the song by “helping” out her dada.
“well done, little star,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head. “see? we play the same way.”
she smiled and automatically beamed, clapping her hands in delight.
she loved being like her dada, and her dada would do anything to see her always smile brighter than the sun itself.~
𐙚˙⋆.˚ zayne! ꒰੭
stickers.
they were just stickers.
harmless, unless swallowed, but pretty safe overall.
…until they covered the entirety of zayne's office at the hospital.
what was once considered a professional, minimalistic space was now a sanctuary of pretty stickers.
kittens, spaceships, motivational quotes, even some barcode stickers from god knows where.
his desk, the back of his laptop, the flower pot, his stethoscope…
“little jasmine, this is my office. it is not appropriate to—” but it was useless. his words died down as soon as she looked up at him with those big eyes, her lower lip threatening to quiver.
he was so easy to manipulate.
he just let her sit down and stick whatever she liked wherever she wanted, even if it became a little harsh on the eyes.
however, she started including him more and more, pointing to places she couldn't reach so that her dada could help her.
and he did, every time.
the doors and window frames had no free space left, and when she noticed she had no available canvases for her artistic vision, she started decorating something far more precious.
her dada!
he walked around the hospital halls with stickers on his forehead, his badge, and his lab coat.
hell, if she could, she would've stuck them all over his face!
thankfully, the staff and patients got used to it fairly quickly, without asking many questions.
when she officially ran out of options and still had thousands of stickers left, zayne allowed her toddler to decorate some of the patients' casts, as long as they agreed.
furthermore, he found out the young patients loved having stickers all over their arms and hands, so his little jasmine brought them some joy while they stayed inside the clinical, white rooms.
it was chaotic, anti-hygienic to some extent… but it brought warmth, color, and joy to everyone.
his job was no longer just a place where he had to focus; it was also living proof of how precious innocence was, and of how his baby muffin made his heart feel full, even when she wasn't around.~
🍓Quick disclaimers: Rafayel and Xavier were written at different times from the other three (by a few months lmao), so if their styles seem different, that's why. I already posted Xavier, I know, I don't care. Finally, no Valko on this one because this is twelve thousand words AND with the recent good news, I want to save my long Valko stuff as a celebration for WHEN he is released. Anywayyyy, these are always super fun to write, but holy fuck I am never writing for five characters at once again in this format. Alsooooo, PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS!!! There's some heavy stuff in here. Let me know if I missed a trigger or a tag here; these are long as hell, I feel like I must've missed something.
TW: Possessive behaviors (including marking, claiming, jealousy, etc..); Explicit Sexual Content; Voyeurism (Xavier, Caleb, Rafayel); Dom/Sub dynamics (Zayne, Sylus, Caleb); Impregnation kink (Rafayel, Implied Sylus and Caleb); Mean Dom (Zayne, Caleb); Predator Prey Dynamics (Rafayel [sort of], Sylus); Degradation (Zayne and Caleb); Pseudo Incest (Caleb); Caleb is actually a creep, I'm being 100% serious; INCREDIBLY UNREALISTIC DESCRIPTIONS OF PENISES THAT ARE NOT CANNON COMPLIANT (Rafayel and Sylus, but also everyone else probably); Discussions of mental health struggles (Mostly Caleb, slightly with Zayne); Small spoilers for story; Bits of angst (for fun)
Word Count Total: ~12.8k
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS POST
Xavier (Word Count: 2.6k)
A = Aftercare: Xavier… kinda sucks at aftercare. Not for lack of effort! He really does try his best to clean you up and ease your aches and pains, but he’s… he’s so tired. Like, entirely worn out, hardly conscious, tired. He always mutters praises and something soft about how much he enjoyed it, but he's not trying too hard to be thorough. For a multitude of reasons... maybe because he likes seeing you messy. Ahem. Just because he isn't actively cleaning you up or massaging you doesn't mean his cuddling and sweetness are ineffective, just... simple! He likes it simple.
B = Body part: Xavier is really fond of his hands (which will be a recurring theme for several of the men here); they’re strong and sturdy and well-trained. He’s honed precise control of them for swordplay, for using his evol, and most importantly, for your pleasure. He’s a fan of the way they sink into your skin, pillowing as he presses deep into it. He can worship you with his fingertips, singing your praises without needing words, drawing them along the planes of your skin as if mapping out his entire world.
With you, Xavier is an ass man, 100% no questions about it. He also likes your thighs, but the ass beats it out just a little. There’s not one thing about it that he likes; it’s just everything about your ass that he likes. It’s nice and round and soft, and he loves the way it jiggles when he hits it from the back. Furthermore, carrying you around with his hands planted firmly on your ass is a secret pleasure of his that he adores to indulge in.
C = Cum: Xavier likes it messy. I’m talking like all over you, messy, drooling out your pussy messy, covering your face, messy, like genuinely a menace, messy. He likes to see physical proof of his possession of you all over your body. He wishes he could permanently stain your skin with the creamy substance, but that’s not technically biologically possible.
As for the cum itself, he doesn’t really cum much in one go. It’s smaller spurts of this, like almost shimmering white, creamy-textured cum. It’s not… quite human, and it reminds you a lot of marshmallow fluff when you look at it, but it’s fun to touch and play with (please play with it; he’ll lose his mind). It tastes good too! Almost sweet, which really sells the marshmallow idea, but he assures you that it's normal, so who are you to question it?
D = Dirty secret: Xavier likes to jerk it while you’re sleeping next to him. He thinks you’re so pretty when you’re resting so peacefully next to him, all innocence and virtue in your rest. Your lips parted, and your chest rising and falling in little huffed out breaths, truly a picture of beauty. He can’t help that his mind starts to wander a little, wanting to feel those pretty little lips wrapped around him. Oh, but he could never disturb your precious sleep, so he sits there and jacks himself off so close but so far to your sleeping visage. It also extends further to other types of voyeurism, like watching you in the shower or watching you change just outside your door. He’s aware that it’s rather… unsettling, so he keeps it close to his chest for your sake.
E = Experience: He’s relatively experienced, but quite literally only with variants of you. So, he seems better than he actually is because he just knows what you like. If he were to be with someone else, he’d probably be a bit overwhelmed and unable to serve them well, but with you, he’s phenomenal. He knows all the right spots, the right ticks, everything he knows just way too well.
F = Favorite position: He’s pretty basic, but doggy style is his favorite position. The ability to watch your ass bounce back on him is heaven to his eyes. It also gives him quite a bit of control over you, which he craves more than he’s willing to say out loud. It’s primal the way that he fucks into you, draping himself over your back and drawing you along his cock over and over, endless and desperate for more. Hard, deep, fast, desperate. His hands squeeze your hips, your sides, they slide between your legs, then they come up to grip your ass and watch the way he sinks into you over and over again.
G = Goofy: He’s not very silly during the act, if at all. Sex is something he uses as a means of releasing pent-up stress and emotions that he doesn’t know how to carefully express to you. There’s this intensity about him during the act, something similar to when he’s fighting wanderers, a fire that burns behind his eyes that you can’t quite comprehend. A need for you that words cannot possibly begin to describe, and that is no laughing matter for him. If you crack jokes, he might give you an odd look because he doesn’t see what’s so funny about the situation you’re in.
H = Hair: He’s not clean-shaven, but he isn’t like a jungle down there. He keeps it clean enough, mostly because he doesn’t want it getting in the way of you when you're going down on him. There’s a nice little tuft of silvery hair, but otherwise not too much to look at.
With you, though, he couldn’t care less. So long as he gets to eat it, he’s a happy man. If you don’t have a bush? Great! Nice and smooth, more real estate for his tongue. You’re a little hairy; that’s fine; he doesn’t care. Have you got a whole forest? Wonderful, he’s not a hunter for no reason, he’s excited to navigate through that if it means he gets to hear your wonderful moans. And he means it seriously. He will fight you if you seem to imply otherwise, so unless you want a pouty Xavier, I suggest just letting it go.
I = Intimacy: While he tends to come off as a very dominant person in bed, he’s actually rather intimate. Even when he’s being rougher and more aggressive, there’s still a gentleness to how he fucks you. It’s the way he holds your hand, the way he presses his forehead to yours as he whispers dirty words in your ears, the way he looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky. It’s an intense energy that leaves you breathless with each thrust, filling you with all his love over and over until you’re stuffed full of it.
J = Jack off: Despite his tendency to… watch from a distance, he doesn’t actually bother jerking off by himself often. If he’s that needy, he can just go to you; you’ll help him out with that big old smile like you always do. However, if you’re busy and you really can’t help him, then… fine… he’ll use his hand. He pouts about it, though, and you can immediately tell when he does it because he seems to be upset that you weren’t the one wrapping your hand around him.
K = Kink: I already mentioned that he’s quite the voyeur, and he’s also big on watching you touch yourself. He sits there very patiently as you circle your fingers over your clit, plunge them inside your sopping hole, practically begging for him to take over. You never get to finish yourself off, though; he’s far too impatient.
He’s also very into marking you up; pretty purple love bites litter your thighs, chest, and neck. Not only this, but other markers really get him excited, like seeing you covered in his cum, having you wear his clothes, smelling his cologne on you. He loves that there’s a marker claiming you as his own for everyone to see. One glance and people can see that you belong ot him, plain and simple.
He’s also quite an exhibitionist, though he isn’t into being watched; he just likes having the ability to have you wherever he likes to. If you’re both in the mood and there’s time and a place to hide, why not? He was told once that neglecting your sexual needs could lead to tension in a relationship, so he wants to take care of your needs whenever and wherever you’re willing to.
Finally, and most obviously, he’s into somnophilia (receiving). While he’s okay waking you up with his head between his thighs, he much prefers it when the first thing he sees waking up is you peering up at him with his dick down your throat. It’s a very nice, warm welcome to reality.
L = Location: I just mentioned he’s an exhibitionist, but I want to emphasize that it’s mostly out of convenience. He can’t always wait until he gets home to relieve himself, and neither can you. If he could choose, though, he would pick his bed every time. Seeing you tangled up in his sheets, nice and cozy and heated while he fucks himself into you is always a turn on.
M = Motivation: When you piss him off, it is 100% guaranteed to get him going. Specifically, when you’re teasing him and poking fun at him for something (like Lumiere), he’ll let you go for a while, but eventually… he has to teach you a lesson about behaving. He may seem soft and sweet, but he’s a man, too; he can only handle so much of that cute little smirk before he needs you on your knees, wrapping your lips around him. Getting him jealous is also a surefire way to have him drag you away to a secluded area and fuck you until you can only say his name.
N = No: No sharing at all. It’s not a debate; it’s not up for question; it’s a no. He can’t handle the idea of someone else finding you attractive, let alone seeing them touch you. If they value their hands, they’ll keep them far, far away from your body.
O = Oral: He’s obsessed, genuinely and completely obsessed with the way you feel on his tongue. You are his favorite flavor, and he wishes every food could taste as you do. If he were to die tomorrow, he would want to be buried between your folds, drowning in your juices as he brought you to completion. It’s a messy ordeal, too, leaving his face soaking with drool and cum dripping down his chin, slopping onto his chest in a disgustingly depraved way.
P = Pace: He can go hard and rough or slow and soft; it simply depends on mood and time. He likes to take his time with you just as much as he likes to put you in your place. Sometimes he’s going so hard and fast that you can only think of his name, babbling out thank-yous and I'm-sorrys without any cognizance. Other times, he’s easing you through your orgasm, slow and easy thrusts while he hums praises and rubs his thumbs in slow circles across your hips. It’s all dependent on how you act, so if you want one kind of sex, it’s fairly easy to sway him either way if you know what triggers him.
Q = Quickie: As I’ve mentioned multiple times, he does like quickies. They’re fairly common between the two of you, being much more convenient and simpler between work and other chores you have to do. Still, he does prefer actual sessions where you can be more intimate about it all. He likes the connection he gets from being with you like this, and he can’t savor it as much as he wants when you have to be quick.
R = Risk: I don’t think he’s much of a risk-taker at all, other than the exhibitionism thing, which isn’t really risky because he’s rather careful about it. He doesn’t like putting you through unnecessary stress, and he doesn’t like the idea of seeing you in any kind of danger, even if it’s controlled by him. If you want to try more risky things, like maybe holding his sword to his throat or choking him out, that’s fine; he’ll try that for you… Not on you, though. He won’t do it for anything.
S = Stamina: He does have a lot of physical stamina; he can go for a really long time, but he gets tired easily. His mind gets foggy and his eyes droopy, and his head gets full far faster than he’d like when he’s with you. It’s overwhelming and all-encompassing, but he always pushes himself through to overstimulation. All because he just adores seeing how you squirm and react beneath him. He wants to spend just a little longer connected with you like this, if you’ll allow him that.
T = Toys: I can’t see him liking toys very much; he gets… annoyed by them. Truthfully, those silly little things can’t hold a candle to the pleasure he can bring you. It’s almost insulting for you to bring it up or even try, not when you know how he feels buried inside. He won’t throw your toys out or anything - though he’s thought about it - but if he walks in on you using them, he’s quick to prove himself better than the stupid rabbit you seem to like so much.
U = Unfair: Ohhhh, he can be mean when he wants to be. It depends on how much you’ve managed to piss him off, but he can be just unruly with how much he teases. He’ll hold you back from your orgasm for so long, and then make you cum in rapid succession over and over until you’re sobbing. His only goal is to remind you just who has the power in bed, because it’s most certainly not you.
V = Volume: He’s pretty quiet all things considered, but boy, can he talk. His normally silent and standoffish demeanor melts away to a soft-spoken dom who intends to make you listen to each word carefully. His words are all dripping with honey as he scolds you for “letting Charlie get so friendly” again, describing in detail what he’s doing to you, what he’s seeing, what he’s feeling, what he wants you to feel.
W = Wild card: He’s kinda shy about the way he is in the bedroom. It’s the very opposite of who he is as a person, so his ears burn red when you tease him about it. He isn’t embarrassed by his ability to take care of and control things in the bedroom, but he just feels shy about it when you’re the one teasing him.
X = X-ray: Xavier is pretty average in size, about five inches long, but he’s on the thicker side of things. There are no remarkable veins or marks or anything, but it’s very, very pretty. Pale like him, with the softest baby pink tip that blushes red when he’s fully erect. It curves up just slightly, so when it’s inside, it rubs along the ribbed part of your walls deliciously.
Y = Yearning: Xavier is a yearner, but he’s mostly tame compared to the other men on this list. He longs for your touch and thinks about the way you feel endlessly, but at the end of the day, he’s able to repress it pretty well. Honestly, it’s up to you to give the green flag; he won’t push for anything and can happily spend the night cuddling you rather than fuckign you into the sheets.
Z = Zzz: As mentioned in aftercare, he’s pretty quick to fall asleep after the fact. His mind is so heavy, as is his body, and he wants nothing more than to curl up in the warmth of the afterglow with you beside him.
Zayne (Word Count: 2.3k)
A = Aftercare: Zayne is fantastic at aftercare, without a doubt. He’s a doctor, so obviously he knows all the right steps to take to make sure you’re okay and with him after the fact (especially because he’s a little freak). However, he can be a little too medical about everything sometimes. It can come off as detached in some ways because he’s going through a checklist of things before he feels as though he can relax and enjoy himself. Though once that checklist is finished, he becomes the softest and sweetest mushy puddle in the palm of your hand.
B = Body part: His favorite thing about himself is his hands. They’ve worked hard to get him to the point where he can touch and hold you without fear. They care for your health, they make you your food, they caress you when you’re tired, they’re the key to you in his eyes. Without them, there would be no way for him to have you as you are; of course they’re his favorite.
With all that sweetness out of the way, he likes your tits. Those hands were made to grab at your chest, engulf whatever they can, and hold it tight. There’s just something about the soft flesh there that he can’t quite explain. Maybe it’s because he’s not supposed to be touching them so often; maybe it’s because it's a sign of trust, whatever it is… it does him good and well.
C = Cum: He has maybe the healthiest cum you’ve ever seen. It’s a perfect consistency, just the right off-white color, and not too much and not too little. The only issue is… well… it’s a little bitter. All those sweets he likes to sneak catch up to him here, and it lends to an acidic kind of taste. If it bothers you, though, he’s ready and happy to switch up your diet to attain a much more… sweet taste.
He’s pretty clean when it comes to where it goes. It’s either inside you or it’s in a condom. He doesn’t like to clean up big messes after the fact, and he finds it a bit too degrading to cum on your face or anything. Though not so much when you stick your tongue out and show him like it’s a trophy… hmm…
D = Dirty secret: Very much enjoys the idea of having you under his desk in a professional setting. He’s a bit too professional to act on it (stick-in-the-mud loser), but that doesn’t stop him from fantasizing about it in the end. You could, perhaps, convince him if you whine about it long enough… but it could also backfire and get you in trouble. Up to you if you want to push or not.
E = Experience: This nerd is a big fat virgin; he dedicated his life to becoming a doctor (for you, of course), and he had no intention of getting distracted along the way. He doesn’t have much experience, but he does have a lot of knowledge of female anatomy. Before your first time, he did a ridiculous amount of research just to make sure that he would be able to satisfy you properly. He also takes note of your likes and dislikes and adjusts himself accordingly.
F = Favorite position: He’s fine with just about anything so long as he’s on top and able to watch your reactions. His favorites lean more toward classics like missionary, but he’s also big into prone bone. He enjoys being able to keep you still and having control over your pleasure while also being able to measure how much you enjoy something he’s doing.
G = Goofy: Sex is not a laughing matter? This guy doesn’t see the appeal in making something so intimate funny. Of course, if something silly happens, he can laugh it off, but he doesn’t enjoy intentionally making the mood goofy. Sex and intimacy are serious matters to him. Take them seriously.
H = Hair: Zayne tends to keep himself trimmed and clean enough, mostly to make sure that you enjoy sucking him off. Because you do that. A lot. It’s not for any other purpose than making it easier for you. He doesn’t need your nose itching mid-blowjob. If it upsets you enough, he might consider letting it grow… but it's a low chance.
You, however, don’t need to do anything. Keep that hair on your body for the love of god or else he will fall to his knees in despair. I’m joking, mostly. Really, though, he prefers that you keep most of your bush there. It’s good for keeping you healthy and safe, plus he really likes the feel of it. Call him a creep if you will, but he likes you hairy more than he does not.
I = Intimacy: While he can be a bit of a freak, I think Zayne does see sex as the most intimate form of romance possible. You are sharing a very vulnerable experience, and as such, he wants to ensure the whole ride is comfortable and pleasant. Even when he’s being rougher or crueler, he does gentle consent checks and ensures that you are 100% for everything the two of you decide to indulge in.
J = Jack off: Believe it or not, I don’t think Zayne has much of a stigma about jerking it in his spare time. Of course, he’d much rather be with you, but in the event he can’t, he doesn’t feel much shame in doing what he must. He’s a medical professional, after all; he understands the benefits of taking care of his own sexual gratification. He’ll only ever get off on you, though. He doesn’t like porn (thinks it’s unhealthy, and it perpetuates poor culture around women (woke ass bitch. Me too. Me too.)), and he finds you and your pictures far more titillating than any random duo online.
K = Kink: The original brat tamer, he wrote the texts, basically. Really, what else could be more satisfying than reminding you of your place beneath him? Press his buttons, be a little nuisance, get him angry, you’ll regret it by the end of the night (or… not lol). Just fills him with pride, putting you back where you belong and getting you to submit like the good girl you are.
Big on eye contact, if that wasn’t obvious. Leans into his whole power play thing that he loves so much, but making sure you look at him while you’re taking it is a must. If you look away, he’ll force your chin back where it belongs and keep it there until you can be trusted to behave on your own.
He loves sensory play, ironically considering the eye contact thing. He just likes having power over you and being in control. What better way to exert that than on all of your senses? Blindfolds offer such a unique way to make you squirm, leather and silk make goosebumps rise on your skin, whispering in your ear to make your thighs rub together. Goodness, it’s such a sight. He can’t help but indulge himself a little.
Dom/Sub dynamics, if that wasn’t so fucking obvious yet. He is always the dom in the scenario, and he takes great pleasure in his role. You are reliant on him for your pleasure, so you must behave or else you’ll suffer consequences. Just a freak, man.
L = Location: “Little bedroom boy,” I said out loud while writing this. I don’t think he enjoys sex outside of his bedroom, maybe in his at-home office, but really he prefers the bedroom because it’s the most controlled space he owns. Everything he needs is already there anyway. Though he can be convinced to take you against walls and windows and whatnot if you’re really getting on his nerves. He can’t let you think you can misbehave so freely, can he?
M = Motivation: I think I’ve made this pretty clear, but you gotta annoy him and act up to get him going. Just about any way works, intentional or not. Be very careful, though, depending on how far you go, he can be hella fucking mean. Unless that's what you want… then I guess have fun not cumming all night lol.
N = No: Controversial take, I don’t think he’s willing to use his evol in bed, like at all. He sees it as such a negative trait of his, even if it has helped him before. It’s hurt you. That’s enough to scare him off from ever letting it touch your skin again. It happened once, and no matter how calm and controlled he can be, it could happen again. He won’t let it happen again.
O = Oral: Zayne prefers getting head more than he does giving. Not that he won’t, of course; he’s happy to eat you until heaven comes… but if he had to pick? Nothing really beats the sight of you on your knees between his legs. And, of course, it’s the only time you’ll get to mess around and see him come apart for you… Why wouldn’t you like it also? He enjoys taking his time with you if you’ve been good, and he’ll be a little mean if you’ve been bad. But, one thing's for sure, he’s always cumming in your mouth and you better show him before and after you swallow.
P = Pace: Generally depends on his mood, but overall he’s the type to take his time. He goes slow, and he’s really intentional with each thrust that he gives you. Zayne wants to feel you in every way possible, and the best way to do that is to take his time. That’s not to say it's soft, though. Zayne is slow, but he goes hard, especially if you’ve been misbehaving. Drags it out as a punishment, but if you’re good he’ll be sweet and gentle and let you cum as many times as you like. So he’s not too mean, is he?
Q = Quickie: Because of the nature of what Zayne is into, I don’t think he would be a big fan of quickies. They’re too… well… quick. He really likes to take his time with you, whether you’re being punished or he’s doing something sweet and romantic; quickies do not allow for that. Also, where do you think he’ll find the time? I’m serious. He’s so busy, even quickies aren’t fast enough. I think perhaps, on a very rare occasion, when you’ve really tested your luck, you might get one out of him. Might.
R = Risk: No. Zayne doesn’t like to put you in harm's way, and he very much needs control over the situation for him to be comfortable with it. So, do not expect him to take any risks at all. Not his thing.
S = Stamina: He may not be the most impressive in comparison to Rafayal (god) or Sylus (dragon) or Caleb (freak), but he’s pretty long-lasting. He has to be for what he enjoys, not to mention he’s so incredibly disciplined that he can hold out for insane amounts of time if he needs to. Generally, though, he does his best to match his stamina to yours. If you can only go for a short time, he’ll only go for a short time. If you can last longer, he’ll last longer too.
T = Toys: Toys are strictly reserved as a punishment and for lesson learning. Say you got a little too bold, say you pushed one too many buttons, and the usual pounding isn’t enough of a message. That’s where Zayne punishes you through means of inaction. It’s up to you to get off by yourself with whatever toy he selected for you, knowing damn well it’s so much more difficult for you to get off without his help. He’s conditioned you well, after all.
U = Unfair: He can be the meanest man you’ve ever met if you push him to that point. Case in point, look above. If he sees it necessary, he’ll ignore your needs entirely to get a point across. Sometimes, the hardest lessons must be taught by stonewalling you. That way you’ll think twice before misbehaving again.
V = Volume: Very, very quiet. He doesn’t tend to make much noise because he doesn’t like to make much noise. He finds it rather… embarrassing to hear himself. Plus, he’d rather hear you anyway. Far nicer to the ears, he thinks.
W = Wild card: Secretly likes when you send him risque photos/videos/audios while he’s at work. Of course, he’ll scold you for doing it every time, but he never means it. How could he complain, really? He gets to see you so pretty for him while he’s all busy. A little reminder of what waits for him at home. And, truthfully, part of the enjoyment of taming you is letting you have a little fun every once in a while.
X = X-ray: Like everything with Zayne, he’s the perfect balance. He’s around 5.3 inches long, slim enough but not so slim that he’s like a pencil. There are a few veins running along his shaft, about halfway up along the side, and one near the sensitive underside of his head. Pale to the tip and flushed a bright red when fully erect. (In the words of the ever-wise Zayne lover Marcus, “It's the perfect dick.” or whatever.)
Y = Yearning: Zayne is such a yearner; he would sit on the sidelines for the rest of his life and watch you be happy without him if it meant you were happy at all. Luckily, that’s not the case here, but my point stands. He yearns for you endlessly, sexually and not, but he’s also able to restrain himself. He loves you first and foremost, after all.
Z = Zzz: Will not sleep until he’s sure that you are all settled and happy, and even still, he’ll stay up just a bit longer to talk to you. Pillow talk after the fact is a big factor of intimacy to him, so it's imperative that he stays awake long enough to see you drift off to dreamland himself.
Rafayel (Word Count: 2.8k)
A = Aftercare: Our little dramatic mermaid likes to pretend he can’t do anything after he’s finished with you (or you’re finished with him). Dragging out every step of cleaning up and taking care of each other with irritating little complaints, but he doesn’t mean any of it. Really, though, he does prefer to just… lie there for a while and take in what he has. It’s the first time in a while that he’s been able to do such a thing, so he wants to savor it while he can. I will say, though, he’s actually very attentive about it all, even if he does complain. He’s fond of your pampering, but he’s sure you get what you need, even if you don’t realize he’s giving it to you.
B = Body part: Rafayel’s favorite body part is not his hands; believe it or not, it’s actually his collarbones. By extension, it’s also his chest, but particularly his collar. There’s a reason he shows it off so much: he knows that they’re attractive, but that’s not the real reason. The real reason he’s so fond of them is that that’s where your bond is. Even if it isn’t usually visible, in his mind, he likes that he’s showing off where you claim one another.
Furthermore, it’s the same for you. Your collar is where your bond is, so that’s what he likes to see. Not to mention, he just finds any skin you show attractive. He’ll trace his fingers along the bone there lightly, savoring the feeling of it being there at all. Trace his lips across them patiently, taking his time to savor the skin. He tries not to mark it there, if you can believe that. He feels it’s pointless to do so and a bit of an insult to your bond. You’ve already got the most impressive mark there. Why should he cover it with a bruise?
C = Cum: Rafayel is strange in this department. He cums quite a bit, oftentimes it leaks out of you with only one round, but it’s not quite… right. It’s definitely not human, more liquid-like, and not as sticky as a regular man would be. It’s a fairly clean white, though, and it doesn’t smell too bad. Most interestingly, it tastes rather good, better than anyone else you might’ve been with (good, he thinks, though he pouts about you being with anyone else in the first place). It’s essentially like shirako, which is a creamy kind of fish sperm from Japan (though it’s served elsewhere), with a buttery kind of taste and a hint of something sweet. Pretty yummy (if u can ever try shirako, I suggest it).
D = Dirty secret: It’s hard to think of a dirty secret because Rafayel holds little shame about his sexual desires, especially when it comes to you. He’s fairly indulgent in this lifetime because he hasn’t been able to really savor you before. However, I think if he had to pick one, his dirty little secret is his rather unsubtle need to have you reliant on him. He’d like to take you beneath the waves someday because you’d be pretty helpless with your little human legs. Clinging to him so you don’t get swept away, so easy to take advantage of. Oh, yes, he’d like that a lot.
E = Experience: He’s probably experienced. I get the impression that he would be, but not because he wanted to be. If it were up to him, the only thing his dick would touch would be you, but he’s had to do some things and make some choices in his efforts to build his little connections. So, yeah, he’s experienced, and he’s not particularly jazzed about it either. But… if it makes things better for you… Then so be it. It’s not like he’ll be sleeping with any other person now that he’s got you, so what’s in the past is past. (Hypocritically, if he finds out you’ve been with anyone else, he pouts and grumbles about loyalty. He won’t accept the same excuse of “being better for him” because it’s different. For some reason.)
F = Favorite position: He’s a fan of anything that has you in his lap, specifically where he can see your eyes. Anything that puts you in an elevated position above him, honestly. He doesn’t have a favorite position specifically, but if you pressed him, he’d probably say cowgirl to get you off his case. He just likes being able to look up at you; it’s cathartic. In all your past lives, you were the one looking up at him, so now he gets to see what the view is like, and he enjoys it a little too much for someone with the amount of power he holds. Don’t mistake that for submission, though; just because he’s below you doesn’t mean he’s powerless.
G = Goofy: Rafayel is the MOST willing to be silly with you (other than Sylus). I think a lot of the time, he wants to enjoy sex with you. He wants you to smile, laugh, and have a good time with him. Nothing but positive memories about your sexual encounters. However, there are times when he’s very serious, and joking around isn’t going to do anything but get you in trouble. That’s usually reserved for when he’s feeling jealous of something, for whatever reason, or when you’ve been a little too bratty. Sometimes he has to remind you that your actions have consequences.
H = Hair: I think Rafayel is smooth, but I’m not sure if it’s because he shaves or because he doesn’t grow much downstairs. He wouldn’t tell you anyway. Rafayel also doesn’t mind if you’re hairy or smooth; he’ll deal with what he has and enjoy it all the same. However, oddly enough, he likes to shave you? Lol? It’s a pretty intimate ordeal with how careful he has to be, and it’s a big show of trust between the two of you.
I = Intimacy: There is nothing more important to Rafayel than intimacy, both in the bedroom and out of it. He is savoring every moment he has with you because he’s been without you more than he’s had you. So, sex is something far deeper than the physical connection between you. It’s a display of his love for you, a deep connection that melds body and mind, letting yourselves go and indulging in the pleasure that only your bond can bring you. And to him, because of his heightened senses, he might as well be within your skin. Every smell, every sound, every touch is dizzying to him, and he yearns for you to get lost in him the same way he does you.
J = Jack off: Does it more than you’d think, doesn’t mean he likes it. Sometimes he has to deal with himself to get things done, but he really does prefer to have you. He’ll do just about anything he has to to avoid it, including leaving mid-exhibit so that he can take care of himself with you rather than his hand. He won’t even do it for you because that is not his job when you’re present. Just… let him have that.
K = Kink: Is impregnation too obvious? Maybe it is, but he’s a big fan of the idea of getting you pregnant. Whether or not he’d like you being pregnant (he would) doesn’t matter so much as being able to stuff you full. And as we’ve explained, he really can stuff you. He’s careful about it, of course, because maybe getting you pregnant is more work than either of you would like at this point in your life… but the idea is nice.
Period sex. Not sure if this really constitutes a kink, but holy fuck, he gets so turned on eating you out on your period. Maybe because he likes the mess, maybe because he likes the taste (freak), but he can’t help it. Besides, it helps you feel better! What boyfriend would he be if he didn’t relieve you in your time of need?
There is something so incredibly delightful about fucking you to the point of tears. You are so pretty when you cry from pleasure, those tear tracks are the most beautiful thing in the world in his eyes. He loves to lick at them too, the salty taste of painful pleasure is too much for him to resist.
Finally, Rafayel likes it when you’re fucked dumb. He already loves when you play a little stupid (or take him at his word when you definitely should not), and so fucking you until you can’t think is a given. He loves how you babble and ramble on about nothing, only able to think of how good his dick feels when he’s taking you. So cute and reliant on only him <3
L = Location: Prettyyyyy sure he can go at it just about anywhere. He doesn’t have the same level of shame that a normal human person would… because he’s not human. If he wants to have sex (and you are okay with it, because he’s a good little fishie), he’ll be having sex wherever he damn well pleases. Though his favorite location is in his art studio, having you sprawled out amongst all his hard work is a favorite sight of his that he cannot get enough of.
M = Motivation: Most things get him going, honestly. But the big one is when you’re being a little ditzy. He loves how much you just lean into whatever he says, even when it’s the most blatant lie in the world. The more control you give him over a situation, the more he likes it. The more stupid you act, the better it gets for him. He finds it cute when you lean into it, especially when you know how silly you look. So willing to make a fool of yourself just for him, you must really love him, huh?
N = No: He won’t hurt you, like ever. At all. It’s just such a disgusting feeling to him, hitting you, choking you, harming you. He’d rather die than see a bruise (that isn’t a lovebite) welling up on your skin. Everything he does with you is done with extreme care and a lot of holding back of his own strength. If you’re using restraints, they're the softest silk and tied only as tight as it needs to be, not tight enough to leave burns. If he’s holding you down, he’s careful not to leave any imprints on you. The very idea of causing you harm is enough to make him suicidal; please don’t ask him to.
O = Oral: Oh, as a fish, he’s not afraid to get a little wet. I kid, I kid. Rafayel is a big eater, though that shouldn’t come as a surprise from him. There is something delicious about you; your taste is sweeter than the finest wine on the market, and you’d swear he’s formed an addiction to it with how often he’s on his knees for you. There’s also the added bonus of the view from between your legs, and the sounds you make, and the complete and total control he has over your pleasure like this. Not to mention the way your thighs squeeze his head, if it popped, he would die a happy man. Right where he belongs for the rest of his days.
P = Pace: Generally, Rafayel prefers to take it slow and easy, but he tends to get overeager and lose himself to the feel of you. Can you blame him? You’re so nice and warm, and you squeeze him all tight and sweet. He can’t help but get excited. Worry not, though, he’s always sure to take his time. He’s not going to waste a second without savoring the feel of you around him.
Q = Quickie: He is really good at them, like really good at them, but he’s not a big fan overall. With his tendency for risky locations, he has to be good at being quick and sneaky – and trust me, you never ever leave unsatisfied – but he doesn’t wanna! He wants to take his time with you always, but oopsies, he doesn’t get to do that when he’s being a horny idiot in public. Too bad, so sad, Raf.
R = Risk: In the sense of location? Yes! As established, he’s willing to go at it just about anywhere, regardless of risk factor. He’s conscious enough about other people to keep you from prying eyes, but that's about as far as risk goes for him. He’s always in control of whatever scenario he’s put you in because he hates having any sense that something could happen to you.
S = Stamina: His stamina is incredibly high, like incredibly high. In part because he’s strong, and another because he’s a god. He doesn’t have the same physical limitations as you might, so he can kind of just go as long as he wants, and he always outlasts you. Even if you think you can beat him, you definitely cannot. It’s a futile battle. Just let our fishie take care of you.
T = Toys: I’m going to say a big fat no. Cutie… why would you need those things? You have him :(... is he not good enough? Dramatic ass. Seriously though, he doesn’t like the idea of you using toys or him using toys. Let's just throw them out, okay!
U = Unfair: As much as he loves having fun and as much as he wants you to enjoy yourself with him, he also likes being a little mean. Especially when you’ve left him alone all day, or you’ve made him jealous, or you’ve teased him too much. Really, any reason is enough to make him leave you hanging on the edge for hours. You’re soooo cute when you cry, when you’re squirming and begging him to let you cum. Poor thing. Should’ve been nicer; maybe then you wouldn’t be here in the first place.
V = Volume: He is loud as fuck when he wants to be. He doesn’t really have much shame about the sounds he’s making, so he’s going to be making them as much as he wants. Of course, he prefers that you make more noise for him, but doesn’t see the point in holding himself back when he’s enjoying himself so much.
W = Wild card: Secretly wants to be pegged. (“Secretly”). He likes his control more than most, but it would be nice to just lie back and let you have your fun too. He jokes about it a lot, to the point that you definitely know that he’s not joking, but he won’t ever outwardly ask for it.
X = X-ray: Rafayel has a strange situation going on below the belt, given the fact that he isn’t human. See, in his human form, you’d probably never guess it. He’s, by all means, regular in appearance – if not a little bigger than your average guy. Somewhere around six inches long, proportional in thickness, pretty heavy balls. It’s pale like him, with a soft pinkish tip that looks carefully painted on, rather than natural. It’s kind of like an art project in and of itself… but you’re not here for that, are you?
Rafayel has a second penis, but it’s only presented to you in his mer form. Usually, he keeps it tucked away because it’s a little jarring to see. It’s the same purple-blue as his fins are. Shorter in length than his human penis, but thick at the base and tapering off like a tentacle. It moves like one, too, and he can manipulate it like another limb. This is, for lack of a more sexy term, the baby-maker. It’s also more sensitive than his human one, which is part of why he neglects to let you see it often. Doesn’t like how easy it is to make him weak with it.
Y = Yearning: If Caleb did not exist, Rafayel would be the biggest yearner in the world. As they say, a man who yearns, earns. And Rafayel is a big earner. He wants you at all times of the day, in all ways humanly (and not humanly) possible. If you could, he’d probably spend the rest of his life inside you, but he’ll stick to what he can get for now.
Z = Zzz: Never falls asleep first. He likes to watch you, no matter how long you’ve been gone, no matter how tired he is; he just wants to watch you for a while. Call him a sap; something is reassuring in seeing that you are there and you are okay, and it affirms to him that you are real. This is real. He doesn’t have to worry about losing you again. Not if he can help it.
Sylus (Word Count: 2.2k)
A = Aftercare: King of aftercare, without a doubt. He’s always got what you need without you even thinking about it. He doesn’t want you to lift a finger for even a moment, and so he makes sure that you don’t. You won’t have to worry about cleaning yourself up, won’t need to feel the aches in your joints in the morning, won’t have to ask for food or water, Sylus has it already. You’ll need for nothing. It’s his job to provide, after all.
B = Body part: For Sylus, it’s hard to pick between his hands and his chest. Truly! His hands have helped him build this little empire for the two of you; they’re also useful for fighting off any idiots getting too pesky, and you seem fond of them. But… his chest is also special. It holds his heart inside, which belongs entirely to you, and he cherishes each moment it beats because it’s a moment when he is alive at the same time as you. It’s also where you rest your head at night, and that is more special to him than words can describe.
I think, similarly to himself, your chest – your heart specifically – is something he cherishes. It’s reassuring to feel it beat against your ribcage, reminds him that you are alive. He is determined to keep it that way, this time. No dying in his name in this life.
C = Cum: Sylus makes sure that everything is up to snuff for you, that means his cum too. While it’s a bit different because… he’s not a human being, it’s healthy. He makes sure that it’s nothing to gag at, in fact, his diet is structured in a way that it’s kind of sweet? Not that he enjoys cumming in your mouth (he feels it’s beneath you, really), but just in case. Speaking of, he’s very much a “I cum inside or in a condom,” and that’s it. Doesn’t mind if it spills out a little, but he will be scooping it up and stuffing it back in.
D = Dirty secret: I don’t think Sylus is very ashamed of most of the stuff he’s into or does, so it’s hard to imagine him having any secret that he keeps from you. The only one I could imagine is if, in some world, he got off to you before you’d met each other again through security footage or something of the like. Though I doubt he would do something like that. He’s too honest and forward for this one, guys, sorry.
E = Experience: His experience carries over with his memories, of course. He’s very experienced with you specifically, which is how he manages to know everything you like without you saying it. Though I will say, you are probably his only experience. He doesn’t care to seek another partner while he awaits your return to his arms, nor does he want to. You are the only one for him after all.
F = Favorite position: Backshot bucky baby. As we saw in lingering lust, he’s big into giving it from behind. The way he can grab your waist, your rear, and just lose himself without fear of consequence gets him going wild. Alternatively, anything where you’re in control makes him go a little crazy. He likes looking up at you and admiring your pretty visage as you ride him into tomorrow.
G = Goofy: Believe it or not, he’s actually really fun! Sex can be intimate, and he does like intimacy, but he’s also the biggest fan of your smile and your laugh. So, if he can draw that out of you while also pleasing you, it’s a high unlike anything else for him. Plus, it shows that you really do trust him despite rocky beginnings. Being able to be a little silly in a vulnerable time is everything to him.
H = Hair: Sylus is a bit… scaly? It’s a little jarring considering his otherwise human appearance, but he’s got a patch of black scales that fade into his… ahem… unique members. They’re smooth, though, and they feel more like skin than any hard protective plating. They’re sensitive too, so do with that what you will.
He doesn’t prefer you anyway, honestly. If you want to be bald and smooth, he’ll get you the best appointments for a Brazilian he can find. If you want to be wild and unrestrained, knock yourself out, he won’t complain. You’re somewhere in between - perfect! Whatever you want, it’s yours.
I = Intimacy: Big on intimacy, but I don’t think it’s surprising. He loves having you close, loves looking at you, loves telling you how much he adores you. Honestly, it’s a lot to handle. His sheer devotion to you is intense, but worry not, he knows what you can handle. All you need to know is that you are loved like no other in his heart, and sexual intimacy is his best way of showing that, because gods know his words are rarely good enough to convey his heart to you.
J = Jack off: I think he tries to avoid doing it if he has to, mostly because it's a hassle. There's… a bit more there for him to worry about than most men. There’s also the fact that nothing really works for him in the same way that you do. He tried porn once. Didn’t like it.
K = Kink: He likes being tamed by you. He’s a bit of a wild animal, rough around the edges and so argumentative, he needs to be told off a little. By you, of course. (Forbid someone else from try to tell him to behave.) Finds your domination so incredibly cute that he can’t help but give in. Sure, it’s a stupid reason to submit, but the proud face you get when he finally decides to listen… oh, it’s beautiful.
Predator/Prey dynamics going both ways… mostly him as the predator in these scenarios. He’s the big scary dragon after all, but if you want to go hunting as the predator, he’s not opposed. He just thinks it's fun to play into those less than innocent primal instincts of his.
Gun play is another big one of his, with a lot of safety precautions put in place (for your sake, not his). There is something just so… mmm… stimulating about having your gun pressed to his forehead as you use him as you like. It requires so much trust in you, and you have so much trust that he will be okay. He can’t help it, he’s into the risk factor of it all.
Last but not least, he’s very big on restraining each other. Usually with his evol, because gods know nothing else is strong enough to hold him down. Being at your mercy, or you at his, alights a switchboard in his brain, forgive him. He can’t help that you in positions of power are so… so hot.
L = Location: I think that entire mansion of his has seen your bare ass, to be quite frank. He enjoys acquainting you with everywhere and anywhere he can. He also doesn’t care too much about doing anything in public because you’ll never get caught with him around. You can be pretty reckless and know for a fact Sylus would never let anyone else catch you. Unless you wanted to be caught… mmm… no. He’s not too big on sharing you.
M = Motivation: Well… you are the motivation! Okay, seriously, your enthusiasm and honesty with your needs are all it really takes for him to be enthusiastic and honest with you, too. You don’t have to jump through hoops to get him aroused; all you need to do is say yes, and he’s ready to go for you too.
N = No: Another guy who just doesn’t like hurting you, but particularly he doesn’t like degrading you at all. His whole thing is encouraging you to take and take and take, making you feel small for doing that defeats the purpose of all that work he put in. It’s simply the opposite of what he wants to see from you, and as such, he doesn’t do it unless expressly asked… and even then he’s on the fence.
O = Oral: Not only is this guy good at giving, he’s obsessed with it, too. Half of the fun of sex is foreplay, and getting you ready with his mouth is just about his favorite thing in the world. It helps that his tongue is impossibly long, and he’s very good at moving it around. You didn’t know that something that squirmy could ever get that deep inside you, but fuck does it feel amazing. Don’t be too loud now, it’ll go to his head, and gods know his ego is big enough.
P = Pace: Sylus is a very go-with-the-flow kind of guy; he does whatever the moment calls for, or whatever you request of him. He can be rough and fast, he can be slow and soft, he can do it all. It doesn’t matter too much to him how long it takes, so long as it results in you being a happy, satisfied mess beneath him.
Q = Quickie: I think he would like them! Not as much as regular sex, of course, but they’re fun. And they’re really useful when you get needy out in public when you know you shouldn’t be. He would never shame you for your needs, though, and he certainly wouldn’t withhold them from you. While they’re not as intimate as he likes, he’s happy to indulge you in some mindless fun like you’re both stupid teenagers every once in a while. Keeps him feeling young.
R = Risk: Big into risk so long as its well thought out and done in a manner that keeps you specifically from harm. You can do anything to him, and he’ll probably smile and take it like a good pet, but he’s hesitant to put you in the line of fire. Still, he is good with risk-taking so long as both of you have had a conversation about expectations and the like. He’s not stupid enough to go in blind.
S = Stamina: I don’t think this man knows how to slow down, really. He can go for insane amounts of time, and you’ll probably never know the upper limits of what he can take. What matters is that whatever you want, you get from him. He’s very adaptable.
T = Toys: He’s a true neutral on this subject. He doesn’t really want to hear about or see your exploits with your toys. (Forgive him for being a little possessive.) He doesn’t care too much either way, though it would be unfair to withhold this pleasure from you, even though he’s right there. He’ll just have to prove that he can do better than some stupid vibrator can, that way, you always come to him first.
U = Unfair: Sylus is a bit of a tease, but that’s the lead-up to the fun of the moment usually. To be fully honest, when the heat of the moment hits, Sylus simply can’t find it in himself to tease you. Your reactions are too honest, and it tears him apart to be mean to you. Pleasure comes first, he’s not so mean as to deny you that after all your hard work to get both of you here.
V = Volume: He’s pretty loud, all things considered. He tends to pant and grunt a lot, though he’s not the loudest in sound; he does make a lot of it. He thinks it’s nice to let you know just how much you satisfy him, since you do the same for him. Not embarrassed by himself at all.
W = Wild card: One of his biggest desires is to have you take both of him at the same time, but he has to manage those expectations quite a bit. One is big enough as is, two? That would take a lot of prep work, and it’s quite the selfish desire he has. If you voice the same excitement over it, though, he might be more compelled to give in to his own yearning.
X = X-ray: My condolences to your pussy. There’s really no way around it, he’s kind of impossibly big, and yes… There are two of them. They’re both slightly different sizes, but he’s effective at using either. The larger of the two is about six and a half to seven inches, fat all around, too, somewhere about six inches or so in circumference. The smaller one is around five-ish inches, about four inches in circumference, far more reasonable to take (which is why he opts to use this one more). They’re also, uh, red and black? And ribbed? It’s quite the thing to take. Worry not, Sylus is good about helping you adjust.
Y = Yearning: You are the only thing on his mind at any given time, his precious little kitten, his whole world. He would do just about anything to have you at his side, but he’s patient enough to wait for you. He can want and want and want, but if you don’t want him, well… he can wait as long as you need. He’s not unwilling.
Z = Zzz: Another guy who ain’t snoozing until you’re good to go. He actually likes to fall asleep at the same time as you. Oftentimes after you have sex with him, he’ll rest his head on your chest and fall into a slumber to the sound of your heartbeat. Just in case. Just to make sure.
Caleb (Word Count: 2.7k)
A = Aftercare: Your wellbeing always remains Caleb’s top priority, therefore, his aftercare is thorough. He does consent checks frequently throughout each session, but he always makes sure to do one last look-over to make sure everything went smoothly and to ensure your mental state is still there. He gets a little… mean. So he needs to assure you that you are loved despite his indulgences. Very much a cuddler, very physical. You won’t have to worry about him skimping out on any of your needs; you can rest easy while your Gege is here.
B = Body part: With Caleb, that is the question. I don’t think he really likes anything about himself. Objectively, he’s aware he’s attractive and strong, he knows that he can do good things with his body, but… he doesn’t feel very connected to it. It’s not Caleb’s body anymore, it’s just a weapon. Cold and unfeeling, except for when he’s around you. So, honestly, he just says his favorite body part is whatever your favorite is. If you like it, it can’t be as bad as the rest of him is, right?
Again, with you, that’s the question. What about you is his favorite? Hard to pick, really, too many good options. If you’re asking sexually, he’d probably go with something like your tummy or your thighs. Fun to grab at in the heat of the moment. More generally, he’d say something like your lips. He spent a looooot of time staring at them, wanting to kiss them, throughout his life. Now he can do it whenever he pleases.
C = Cum: Caleb doesn’t take care of himself unless you’re there to make him, so… I don’t think it’s the healthiest or the tastiest. Which is why he tends to avoid letting you eat it, just… kinda gross and bitter. Besides, he prefers to cum on you anyway, creep that he is. It’s a little watery, and he likes to play with it (likes it more when you play with it). Prefers to see it on your stomach or your ass, but if you want he’s more than happy to cum inside :D …No? Okay.
D = Dirty secret: When you were younger, he would do a lot of really creepy and fucked up shit that he has an insane amount of guilt over. These include (but are not limited to): Jacking off to (innocent) photos of you together; Stealing your panties and cumming into them; Standing over your bed to watch you sleep at night; Watching you change through cracks in your door; Getting off to your shampoo in the shower. But that’s not really the secret, because you’ve probably found out about most of these. No, the secret is that he wants to do all of these things still (he does, sometimes), and he wants you to catch him. And he wants you to tell him how gross it is and then indulge him in his creepy little fantasies.
E = Experience: No experience whatsoever; he was not gonna fuck anything that wasn’t you, lmfao. He’s a little nervous on your first time because of this (and a few other reasons), but he’s really receptive to you and your reactions. All you gotta do is tell him, and he’ll get it done. He ends up being a little too rough sometimes, a little too eager others, but he’ll get the hang of it quickly.
F = Favorite position: I preface with the fact that Caleb is not a picky man; he’ll do just about anything so long as you seem happy with it. However, his favorites tend to require a bit of flexibility on your part. He really enjoys pushing your body into positions where you’re sort of helpless to him. Oftentimes you’ll find your legs over his shoulder and your body bent in half while he “takes care of business.” His usual go-to is just doggy, but when you’re prepared properly, he’ll put you in a full nelson or a prone bone. Again, though, he’s happy to take what he gets all the same.
G = Goofy: He can be goofy if you want! He’s still your Caleb, albeit altered and more traumatized and kind of hardly hanging on to himself… but he’s Caleb! Sometimes you just wanna mess around a little; sex doesn’t always have to be some super serious, dom/sub type dynamic thing. He loves hearing you laugh and joke around with him just as much as he likes to hear you moan. It’s even better when they’re woven together like this - the best of both worlds.
H = Hair: Before your first time together, he didn’t care enough to shave himself downstairs. He didn’t care to take care of himself. Immediately after your first time, he shaves himself clean. Finds the hair down there inconvenient because it’s just in the way of feeling you against him. He’s a little apologetic if you don’t like him bald, buuut he’s not changing it. He wants to feel you, sorry pips :P
If you shave, he’ll act like it's a war crime. Your body, your choice… but please reconsider. Your bush is a sacred thing to him; how could you ever even consider taking it away from him after he waited so long to see it? “It’s more convenient” or “It’s only fair” won’t convince him. In the end, it’s your choice, and he’ll be a big boy and accept it. Even if he really, really wants the bush.
I = Intimacy: He struggles a lot with intimacy in sex, mostly because he struggles with intimacy in general. He really tries his best to tap into the few emotions he can feel for whatever short amount of time he’s allowed to feel them, but he finds sex more enjoyable when he doesn’t have to fight himself to indulge. It’ll come naturally over time as he adjusts to everything new with you, and it’s not like he’s not making successful attempts, but intimacy is something he struggles with in general. However, he does his best to make sure you feel the intimacy, even if he can’t.
J = Jack off: I think it goes unsaid, but he’s getting himself off without you more than with you. It’s a habit, at this point, because he finds it difficult to come to you about his sexual needs, so he usually handles them himself. Most often in the same ways he did when he was younger, but he’s getting a little better about seeking you out. At least he’ll send you pictures sometimes when he misses you that much.
K = Kink: Let's get the obvious out of the way, please. He’s so into pseudo-incest, and it’s something he’s grappling with indulging in. He holds a lot of shame about liking the big brother role he takes on with you, mostly because he also wants nothing more than to be your boyfriend. In bed, these blurred lines come together into one, and he loves when you call him Gege, and you play into that dynamic. Playing dumb and helpless, begging your big brother to take advantage of you is sick and twisted, and that's what he likes about it.
That leads into his second kink, degradation. He prefers it mostly on himself, and it’s nothing too heavy. He’s not interested in you really calling him too many names, but he wants you to point out the flaws in his logic and still give him what he wants. Let him know that what he wants is wrong and that you want it too. Furthermore, he likes to mock you a little bit when you get into the subspace. “So cute and helpless ‘fer me, aren’t ya?” and stuff like “Can’t get off without Gege’s help, huh? Poor little Meimei~.”
Collaring/Marking/Claiming, whatever you want to call it, he’s big on this one. Of course you can’t walk out with a literal dog collar, and neither can he, but he’ll look into alternatives. He already has the necklace you gave him, but I think he’d be interested in getting you a necklace with a Morse code design of something like his name or a little message nodding back to him. Then, obviously, he loves giving and receiving love bites – even if he can’t see them beneath clothes, knowing that they’re there and only for his eyes is good enough for him.
Control. Now I know that all of the men before have some element of this to them, but Caleb takes it to the most extreme degree. He wants control of you both inside and outside of the bedroom, and he wants you to control him in the same way. Who you talk to, who he talks to, where you go, where he goes, what you eat, what he eats. It’s not reasonable for either of you to do this, so you find other ways to indulge in this desire of his that won’t completely destroy your social lives and ruin your mental health (more than it already is).
L = Location: Generally, he prefers that you keep things between yourselves, so he’s not going out of his way to have sex with you in public. Though I think he’s prone to fingering you under the table if you’ve earned yourself some kind of punishment (or you’re really adamant about needing to get off right now.) He could be convinced to bend you over his desk at work, but if it’s down to choice, he’s waiting until you’re home so he can take his time with you.
M = Motivation: I think most things you do can get him going, but he’s so good at pushing it down, ignoring it, or dealing with it himself that you don’t think it’s that bad. The best way to get him to do something is to purposely tease him in scenarios where he can’t immediately act on it, and then continue to push until he cracks and drags you home/to the bedroom himself.
N = No: Sharing. I know, I know! It’s obvious, and I also said it earlier, but I think it’s the one big no that he has. He’s pretty goddamn freaky; there's not much concerning you that’ll turn him off, but if you suggest adding a third? Well, that means you’re thinking about someone specifically, and that means he’s got someone to deal with. It also means that he’s not satisfying you, so he just has to do better himself. Don’t bother bringing it up to him, okay, he’ll spiral, and he’s already hardly clinging to his morals as is.
O = Oral: It’s a toss-up for him as to which he likes more on a given day. Some days, he wants nothing more than to see you on your knees, taking him as deep as you can. Other days, the only way he can relax is with your thighs trying to crush his head while he eats you like a wild animal. It’s all up to his mood and how good or bad a day he’s had, mixed a little with how much of a brat you’re being.
P = Pace: He tends to default to a harder, faster pace. It’s not like he likes being mean! It’s just how he is, and you never seem to complain about it anyway. He can slow it down and be sweet and gentle if that's what you want. It’s his natural state to just be a bit harsh in these things, and if you seem to like it, then that's how he’ll give it to you.
Q = Quickie: Surprisingly, he’s not really a fan. He doesn’t want anyone ever interrupting his time with you. Especially not such an intimate time like this. He’d rather wait around for a while so that he can really get into it rather than waste time on half-fulfilling interactions like a quickie. You might get him to give in occasionally when there's no promise of a later, but it's rare.
R = Risk: He’s definitely into some risky kinks and behaviors, but not a big fan of real risk. He’s a control freak, especially when it comes to your safety, so the idea that he’d put you at risk is a bit unlike him. Don’t expect him to indulge in anything that could expose you or potentially hurt you more than he’d be able to control.
S = Stamina: The issue with Caleb is not the fact that he can go for a long time; he most certainly can. It’s just… he cums quick. He’ll cum more than twice usually, and he has a short refractory period where he bounces back quickly. He’s good at filling up space while he recovers, but you’ve gotta get used to how easy he is lol. It’s a compliment, I promise.
T = Toys: Props, yes. Toys? Not so much. He doesn’t like the idea that something else can do his job for him. He also doesn’t like that you masturbate without him involved/knowing either, so I don’t think this is all that surprising from him. He’s a bit hypocritical, of course, but he prefers you come to him when you have needs. He could be convinced to use a remote-controlled vibrator as punishment or even use your toys against you when he’s upset enough, but generally prefers you not have them and not use them when you’re with him. If you do have them, he prefers not to know what kind and how many. (He gets jealous)
U = Unfair: I already established that he loves to verbally degrade you and tease you, and this goes for how he handles your pleasure, too. He does enjoy edging you and withholding orgasms from you occasionally. On the other end, he also likes to make you cum in rapid succession. He tends to give you more than he takes from you, so usually you’re overstimulated rather than denied pleasure. It’s not any less mean that way.
V = Volume: He’s a big grunter, and you can draw a lot of them out of him, but he tries to stifle them as much as possible. He just wants to hear you, and he can’t hear you if his stupid mouth is making noise. Worry not, he knows how to get you moaning. But if you want him to make noise – specifically if you want him to whimper – you can either pull at his hair or scratch his back. No pussy shit either, you better tug hard at the roots or dig your nails in so hard they leave marks, else you won’t get what you want.
W = Wild card: Caleb is a big somnophiliac. He wants to wake up to you using him like your personal sex toy, and he loves waking you up with his tongue on your sex. There’s something super thrilling about the riskiness of it all, waking up half there only to immediately be thrown into the throes of pleasure. He loves toeing the line of what is and is not morally acceptable with you, and this is a fun way to play into that.
X = X-ray: Long and thick, just like its beholder. Caleb is just a bit smaller than Sylus’ more impressive member, about 5.8 to 6 inches, and thick all the way around. Once you adjust the tip, you can take the whole thing no problem. He’s also not circumcised, but that doesn’t inhibit pleasure by any means. None of that really matters in the end, because length and girth or not, he knows how to use it to make you feel good.
Y = Yearning: Caleb wants you all the time, and he’s very good at acting like he doesn’t. He spent his whole life acting like he didn’t; he’s sort of stuck in that yearning still, even now that he has you to himself. Such a helpless man for you, he’d seriously sit and be happy if you told him he could never have it again. …No, he wouldn’t. Please don’t do that to him.
Z = Zzz: In the hypothetical scenario that Caleb sleeps in the first place, he would never fall asleep before you. Especially not after having sex with you. He’d rather watch you drift off peacefully in his arms than sleep in the first place, so you will be sleeping before him no matter how hard you try. Only when you are completely at rest can he relax enough to try to drift off on his own. He tends to sleep better on nights when you’re there; no need to worry about your wellbeing when he can see it himself, clear as day.
as a young science nerd, valko loved phineas and ferb because of its innovation, wackiness, and charm. in adulthood, he continues to idolize perry the platypus, because he, too, knows what it’s like to be a mammal with a super cool secret identity
୨୧ — Valko was sprawled on his stomach, one arm dangling off the edge of the bed, hair an absolute disaster, ears twitching occasionally at sounds only he could hear. His tail had escaped the covers sometime in the night and lay flopped over your legs like a furry anchor.
It wagged once. Twice. Even in sleep, some part of him always knew you were there.
You'd been awake for an hour already- crept out at an ungodly time to execute your master plan, then slipped back in to wait. The apartment smelled like vanilla and sugar and slightly burnt frosting (you'd scraped off the evidence), and the living room was housing a mountain of wrapped presents you'd been secretly hoarding for weeks.
His nose twitched.
There it is.
You watched his brow furrow, still mostly asleep, processing the unusual scent data. His tail started wagging faster. Then his ears perked up- one, then the other, swiveling toward the bedroom door like little radar dishes.
“Mmrph” A grumble. His arm reached out blindly, patting the mattress until he found your thigh and latched on, “Why's it smell like... cake?”
“Good morning to you too.”
One golden eye cracked open. Then the other. He squinted at you suspiciously, clearly not trusting his own senses this early, “‘S not my birthday.”
“It literally is.”
He buried his face back into the pillow, “Birthdays are for people who age. I refuse. I'm eternal.”
You snorted and scratched behind one ear. His whole body went boneless, a low rumble building in his chest.
Cheater, he thought hazily. Using the ears against me.
“Made you a cake,” you said in the sweetest fucking voice.
His head lifted. Both ears now at full attention, pointed directly at you with laser focus.
“…What kind?”
“Chocolate. Three layers. Homemade buttercream… There may also be irresponsible amounts of presents. That leather jacket you've been staring at for six months? Those limited edition headphones that sold out in three minutes?" You grinned. "Oh, and I contacted that artist you like for a custom commission- it won't be ready for weeks so you're getting an IOU with a badly drawn wolf on it. Don't judge my art skills."
His tail was going insane now- hard enough to shake the bed. But his face was doing that thing where he tried to look cool and unaffected and was failing spectacularly.
She remembered, he thought, something warm and overwhelming expanding in his chest. Every stupid little thing I mentioned once. She was listening. She planned this. For me.
You didn't get to finish the sentence.
Valko moved fast and suddenly you were pinned beneath him, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his face inches from yours.
“You,” he said roughly, “are so annoying.”
“Rude. I made you cake-“
“The most annoying person I've ever met.” He kissed your forehead. “Insufferable even.” Your nose. “Absolutely unbearable.” The corner of your mouth.
You cupped his face in both hands.
“Happy birthday, my little wolfie.”
He made a small, undignified sound. His tail drooped. His ears flattened.
And then he buried his face in your neck, arms wrapping around you tight enough to squeeze the air from your lungs, and just... stayed there. Breathing you in.
You held him tighter, scratching at the base of his ears as his whole body melted against yours.
His tail started wagging again- slower, softer.
Best day, he thought. Best person. Gonna marry her.
“So,” you finally said, breaking the silence, “wanna see your presents? Orrrr is it still too early?”
He bit your shoulder. Not hard. Just enough to make you yelp.
“Five more minutes.” He lifted his head, flashing that sharp grin- still slightly watery but getting cockier, “Then presents. Then cake. Then I'm gonna show you exactly how grateful I am. Repeatedly.”
“...It's eight AM.”
“And? I've got all day. You gave me three layers. That's at least three rounds.”
“That math doesn't-“
He dropped back down, pressing a kiss to your pulse point, “My birthday. My math.”
Valko Homely headcanons because it is late and I Cannot Sleep
Something something valko tries to bake/ cook for reader and hes actually really really good at it????
His grandma was keeping his ass in the KITCHEN he was going to learn how to cook for his MATE one way or another (she may have dragged him in but he willingly stayed).
He learns the family recipes, he learns how to bake and decorate cakes... and eventually, he learns your favourite foods and makes them for you with the wide grin you've come to adore.
(And he would most definitely kill cultural food, I just know this man cooks food with the clinical precision Dr House does).
He measures spices with his heart, and yet cant tolerate spicy food. He'd still make it for you if you wanted it.
He has perfected the art of baking a chocolate cake. Chocolate chip cookies. Chocolate based anything. (White Chocolate isnt real chocolate and he WILL die on that hill but I mean he'll still probably eat it).
But cooking together. Oh, its so intimate.
You sharing your tricks for cooking or family recipes? His heart feels so full. You trust him - with your heart, the family recipes and most importantly?
valko has a love-hate relationship with his glasses.
he loves that they can help him see, obviously. he likes the fact that you like how he looks with them on. he's also the kind of guy to have both glasses and contacts, but actively despite wearing the latter.(and both, really)
you've caught him squinting at food labels, his computer, at the tv. he'll deny it each time, saying that his eyes are just dry and he's adjusting his vision. to which you usually clap back with the fact that he both never uses eye drops to help with said dry eyes, but also because when he does wear contacts, he always forgets to replace them. there has been a few times where you've swatted him to stop wearing his bi-weekly contacts that he's definitely been wearing for more than two weeks.
with that hassle, he'll always prefer his glasses. valko's often got them on at home. if you ever needed one, he's always got one of those micro fabric cloth on hand. sure, he's accidentally slept while wearing them, leaving indents on his temples. he's also got a bad habit of taking them off, forgetting where he put them down, and thus asking for your help to look for where he placed them.
"Angel, please, I can't find them,"
"Have you looked in the bedroom?"
"Baby that's the problem I can't see," he says with wide puppy eyes.
but what he hates the most is how they get in the way when he's got his tongue lapping you up. his head between your legs, eating and licking like a man- or werewolf- starved.
his hands are gripping your thighs, keeping you just open enough to were you're still squeezing his head. it's cause he likes how your thighs brush against the edges of his wolf ears. and oh, does he love when you tangle your hand in his hair, scratching and grazing the most sensitive part of him- besides his tail, of course.
and like everything he does, it's with an energy that he always has. every noise- squelch, slurrpp- between his groans and your whimpers would make you tempted to smack him away, if he wasn't also using his fingers at the same time to spread you open.
and stars is he so messy with it. there is no shame when it comes to making you come with his mouth alone. and that's where valko loves and hates his glasses the most. they'd be so fogged up by now, from the warmth he's creating between your thighs. he can barely see in front of him. but fuck, it turns him on so much that he can see (or.. not see?) how good he's making you feel. he takes the fogging up as a sign that he's getting you right there, so, so, close.
and don't worry- if you find it uncomfortable, maybe if the edge of the frames poke your skin, he'll take it off no problem. but once you're coming undone, rest assured that valko will ride you through your high, before pulling back and throwing his glasses back on to see the mess he's made of you.
bonus headcanons!
if you wear glasses too, he's bought custome matching frames for the both of you
he also has several pairs. round frames, thin metal frames, even those chunky black plastic frames that give a very clark kent/superman vibe
my favorite headcanon i read was that with him being a werewolf, his glasses could be colorblind glasses since dogs have a very limited color range
if you don't wear glasses, he would gift you a pair that looks like his, with no grade and just the blue light filter. "so we're matching and it would be less strain when you're on your phone and computer ^-^"
BONUS FUN FACT : this fic was inspired by me this morning, forgetting to take my glasses off in the shower, and thus fogging them up badly
all right reserved to @myntrose on tumblr. do not copy, translate, repost, or claim my work as your own. the artwork on my blog does not belong to me, unless stated otherwise.
“Business Meeting and Fancy Dinner”
[Valko x MC - crack fluff one shot from “Until You Come Home” masterlist]
“Sweetheart…? Are you done there?”
Valko knocked a couple of times against the door and waited with a hand already on the doorknob. There was still time to get ready without any rush but he was feeling unusually nervous. He wasn’t particularly fond of these kinds of gatherings and he would’ve avoided tonight's dinner as well, if he hadn't skipped too many already.
“Yes, I just stepped out of the shower.”
Her voice echoed softly from the other side of the door and he took it as permission to step in.
She was standing in front of the mirror, wrapped in a bathrobe and with the comb in hand. Her eyes immediately found him through the mirror’s foggy reflection and she raised an eyebrow when Valko came to stand right behind her.
“Do you need to use the shower…? I can go brush my hair into the bedroom-”
He shook his head and gently pried the comb from her fingers.
“Not yet. Let me brush your hair for you,” he offered kindly.
She hesitated a moment before pushing her hair back from her shoulder and let him have his way. Her hands rested on the edge of the counter as she enjoyed the combined feeling of his fingers sectioning her strands and brushing them carefully to not tug at any possible knot.
“We’re still on time, right?” She asked quietly, and not because she really cared about the time. Actually, she had noticed how his chest pressed lightly against her back and how Valko not-so-subtly paused to press a kiss or two on her bare shoulder.
“Mh… you smell so good,” he murmured absentmindedly, his eyes fluttering close as he took a moment to nuzzle against the crook of her neck and breathe her in. Her scent filled his nostrils and made the tension coiled at his shoulders seep away.
“Oh, thank you.” She chuckled softly when the tip of his nose tickled her, and one of her hands raised to reach behind to cup the nape of his neck.
A low, pleased groan rumbled from his chest as Valko instinctively leaned into her touch and forgot that he still had to brush her hair, his arms pulling her into his embrace.
“Why don’t you take a warm shower and let yourself relax for a bit…?”
Tilting her head back, she pressed a lingering kiss on his temple while her nails gently scratched the short of his hair.
He hummed lowly and his golden eyes glinted playfully as they met hers into the mirror’s reflection.
“...would you join me?”
“I know better.”
She laughed at the bold offer and gently pried herself away from him.
It was the first time she would accompany him to a business meeting and she didn’t want to make a bad impression by arriving late.
Valko let out a defeated sigh as he reluctantly let her go and watched her step out of the bathroom.
“Make yourself prettier than usual for me at least.”
“I will.”
And she kept her word, exceeding the expectations.
Valko needed to remind himself to breathe because the elegant dress she had chosen fitted like a glove.
“You’re drop-dead gorgeous, sweetheart.” He didn’t waste time stepping closer to her and taking a better look at her figure.
Her cheeks warmed up at his compliment and she lightly swatted at his arm when he lost himself staring at her with his mouth agape.
“No need to exaggerate,” she brushed off his praise only to not become even more flustered.
She felt a bit self-conscious already wearing something so fancy, because it was so different from the Hunter suit she wore proudly every other day. But this was an occasion, and she had to adapt to the dress code for the night.
“I’m not. You’re absolutely stunning. The most beautiful woman-”
Her hand reached out to cover his mouth and stop him from flattering her further. She could already feel her skin burning from her cheeks to her collarbones and she didn’t want to become any redder.
She gasped when something warm and wet touched her palm, and she withdrew her hand immediately, glaring at him halfheartedly as he stuck his tongue out at her.
“My pretty sweetheart,” he insisted on complimenting her and his hands found her hips, gently pulling her in to kiss her warm, pink cheek.
“You’re insufferable sometimes…” she grumbled as she rolled her eyes at his chuckle. “Ah-ah! No. Dry yourself and get ready.”
She put up resistance when he attempted to hug her while still damp from the shower, and grabbing his shoulders, she turned him towards the wardrobe instead.
Valko allowed her to steer him away from her… for now, and indulged her.
“Alright alright… I’ll get ready. I’ll be handsome so as not to mismatch your beauty.”
During the ride in the car’s backseats, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Valko.
He pulled black off really well -it complimented his skin tone and made his figure look impossibly sharp. But she could tell that the tailored suit fitted uncomfortably on him by the way his fingers tapped against his knee in a nervous rhythm.
She didn’t know what to say to calm him, honestly, because the closer they got to the designated location the more anxious she became. So she moved, her hand pulling her long skirt to the side to not trip on her heels, and sat beside him instead.
He didn’t hesitate wrapping his arm around her and pulling her flush against his side, stopping the unconscious fidget to rub her arm in a gentle motion. Looking at her, Valko realised that he was almost forgetting the most important thing.
“Oh, you’re still missing something.”
“What…?” Her head raised from his shoulder as she looked at him with a confused expression, mentally recalling everything she had in her bag.
“This…” he said while his fingers reached for his family ring and caressed it lightly before sliding it off. He grabbed her hand with his free one and for a brief moment, his gaze met hers.
She blinked, stunned. With wide eyes, she watched it shining thanks to his Evol’s work as he put the ring on her middle finger, the dark metal adjusting to her size until it fit perfectly.
“There… now you’re perfect,” he murmured, satisfied by the sight of the gold wolf’s coat of arms glinting under the dim lights of the car.
It looked like it had always belonged on her finger.
He had wanted her with him tonight, not hidden behind the title he carried, but standing beside him as his partner.
Now the piece of jewellery was the tangible proof of their bond.
Her hand trembled slightly with a mix of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. Valko had just put a ring on her as if it was the most natural thing he had ever done.
She smiled, flustered and utterly fond of him, while she interlaced their fingers together and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
“Next time you should go down on one knee, though…” she teased him affectionately and kissed his cheek, feeling his warm laughter right under her lips.
“And you should say yes,” he replied, matching the lighthearted tone, as he let her rub his cheek to wipe off the lipstick stain.
When the car stopped in front of a fancy building and the driver opened the door for them, it was like a switch was turned on.
His posture straightened, his jaw clenched and his eyes lost the playful light they always had when it was just the two of them. Valko went right into chairman mood, and she followed suit without missing a beat. After all, years of training as a Hunter and different undercover missions carried with professionality helped her put aside her nervousness to be Ao Yin’s partner in front of a room full of important people and business men.
Even though their hands remained linked together for the whole time and his thumb brushed her knuckles in soothing circles.
Polite greetings, small nods from distance and two flutes of champagne welcomed them into the most boring dinner they had ever been. And the worst past was that the people weren’t even that old… they were simply too pleased with their staggering inheritances and high-quality lives to actually offer an entertaining conversation.
The women asked about the ring on her finger, their tinted mouths eager to gossip about an incoming wedding as they proclaimed themselves -not really so sarcastically- jealous of the high reputation, the great properties and actions she would’ve likely obtained by becoming his wife.
But they completely ignored what his ring actually meant to her -a werewolf family that had welcomed her with open arms, the genuine promise of partnership Valko had already been keeping every day they spent together.
Meanwhile, the men seemed interested only in expenses, profit margins, and secure investments.
By his side, she heard Valko taking deep breaths or letting out long sighs when his discussions about the research he was managing at the moment were interrupted by irrelevant questions. So she subtly leaned more against his side, her free hand holding comfortingly onto his arm, and tried to give him the strength to remain patient for a little longer.
But Valko loathed these social gatherings, and tonight reminded him exactly why.
He was glad that she was with him.
Though, when their gazes met between an empty conversation and another, he saw that she felt out of place just as much as him.
And he also sensed her hunger.
He was starving too.
The catering wasn’t bad but even if the waiters passed by often, their trails were filled with food that could barely satiate a bird.
“It’s finger-food,” she had whispered to his ear when he had raised an eyebrow at the cup of canapé a waiter had offered to them.
He could’ve eaten it all in one gulp.
But he had to be proper and eat a tiny piece at times.
While she couldn’t even taste much due to the gourmet sauce put on almost everything, because she had dared to question once what that was and the waiter had listed so many spices in such a fancy way to be incomprehensible. To not risk anything with her allergies, she simply settled for sipping her champagne instead.
They managed to resist for a couple of hours.
Then Valko politely excused themselves and led the way towards the exit.
“Wait… where are we going?” She asked, her heels clicking softly after his suit shoes to match his deliberate escapade.
“I promised you dinner. We’re going to have a proper dinner.”
Once the driver was dismissed earlier than expected, Valko helped her sit on the passenger’s seat before getting behind the wheel and the engine rumbled lowly as they left without glancing back at the luxurious building.
A soft grin tugged at his lips when, from the corner of his eye, he caught her hands slipping the heels off and her body relaxing on the leather seat.
“Do your feet ache?”
“A little… but it’s fine as long as you don’t make me walk on them anymore for tonight,” she answered honestly as she tilted her head towards him to watch him drive.
“Check in the compartment,” he gestured to her with a small nod without revealing much.
“Why…? Oh, no… I can’t believe this-”
She broke into a genuine laughter when she did as she was told and found a pair of fuzzy socks inside. She didn’t waste any time putting them on, giggling happily at the nice feeling of the soft fabric against her sore skin.
“You’re welcome,” Valko hummed, proud of having anticipated things correctly beforehand. And his grin turned into a wide smile as she leaned over the center console to press a loud, playful kiss on his cheek.
“Where is my loving partner taking me for dinner?” She questioned curiously, returning to sit properly on her seat to not distract him from the road any further.
“Right there,” Valko pointed at the fast food restaurant that was appearing on their way, and they ended up laughing some more at the irony of the night they were spending.
Because there was something wonderfully ridiculous about eating cheeseburgers in the back seat of a luxury car while still dressed for a business dinner.
Just like she had gotten rid of her shoes, Valko had taken off his suit jacket and rolled the button-up sleeves to his forearms to be more comfortable.
He hummed contently every time his teeth could sink onto the big, juicy burger he had ordered and chewed on it.
“Don’t make a mess,” she chided him halfheartedly as she used a napkin to dab at his chin.
“Thanks, sweetheart.” He replied, even if his mouth was still full.
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t exactly blame him, because she was devouring her own burger with the same hunger.
“Fries?” He grabbed the container of rich fries with cheese and bacon they had agreed on taking as a side-dish with a mere glance.
“Mh-mh… thanks,” she nodded eagerly and forked some before bringing them to her mouth.
Valko watched her with a fond smile, happy to see her eat properly.
“This is the best part of the evening,” he said and then he opened his mouth when she fed him some fries back.
“The burgers?”
He shook his head and leaned in to nuzzle the tip of their noses gently.
[This one shot is also published on AO3]→“Until You come Home” series❣️
💚 Other works:
✧ “Popcorn and Jump Scares are a Must for a Movie Night”;
✧ “The Return of the Wolf in the Woods Fails”;
✧ “Just Hug me Tight”;
✧ “Gentle Nibbles and Ear Scratches”;
✧ “Smelling Like Home”;
✧ “Everyday is Chocolate Day for Us!!”;
✧ “The Superior Courtship Strategy”;
✧ “Family and Childhood Memories”;
✧ ...
💌 If you have any one shot request, scenario or head canon for Valko, my inbox is open and you can leave a comment under the dedicated post!!
[Taglist: @pinpointontop - @officialkatzline - @pdacex - ...]
🔖 If you'd like to be added to the taglist for future works related to VALKO, just let me know in the comments!!
[If you're interested in reading more of my works, you can go check my masterlist!]
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ — across from you now, the empty seat isn't empty anymore. "i know i messed up," they say, barely meeting your eyes. "i'm so sorry i left you waiting. can you forgive me?"
wc. 5.2k words
⋆˚꩜｡ cast — xavier, rafayel, zayne, sylus, caleb, valko
⋆✮⋆ PART 1 HERE!
🔖 tags — lads x non mc reader! comfort, mentions of blood, guns, injuries, curses thrown everywhere
a/n: please please please listen to "why you wanna fight by bruno mars" lmao it was on loop making this
݁ ˖Ი𐑼˖⋆ XAVIER
You felt the bed dip beside you as you woke up, you flatter your eyes open and see Xavier beside you.
Remembering the events that unfolded last night you immedietly turn away but he caught you before you can turn your back.
"Star, can we talk? please?"
As you got up, you can see his disheveled face. Your eye also caught a tray nearby and you assumed he made you breakfast in bed.
You sighed as you look at him in the eye.
"I'll give you 5 minutes to speak, If what you did last night was forgivable—I might stay."
Relief immediately flashed in his eyes, He grabbed your hands and put in near his chest.
"Star..I'm so sorry for letting you sleep last night with doubts, It was never my intention at all—I swear I had it on my schedule and training just got long and I dozed off, when I realized I overslept I immedietly went to get your gift from MC."
"Gift? what gift?"
"It was supposed to be a surprise when we got here but everything got so late and I'm so sorry for ever hurting you my love, It would never be my intention."
He flashed you a quick smile and as you look on the corner of your room there was a home base setup and a playpen next to it, and the middle of it—was a white bunny wearing a purple tie.
"Xavier…"
"Hmm?"
"Is that a bunny?"
"Yes—"
You immedietly ran to the playpen as you took the small bundle of fluff and took a good look at the animal, you've been begging your boyfriend to adopt a pet. You told him any pet would be okay as long as it resembled him.
As you play with your bunny more, you felt him crouch beside you—you stilled, not quite sure if you forgive him just yet.
"I know I messed up and I promise to make up for it. I cleared the whole week for us two and I planned a vacation to the beach so we can spend time together, and to erase any more doubts you might have in that pretty head of yours—the bunny came from MC."
You look at him one last time, sighing as you take his hand. He smiled and kissed the back of your palm.
"I promise to make it up to you."
"And set alarms?"
"That too."
You both shared a laugh, as you play with the new addition to the family—as Xavier plans your itinerary for the whole week.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 RAFAYEL
You threw the last tissue from your tissue holder at the filled trashcan across the room, reaching for the thermometer from the table—the results still stayed the same. The little beep still confirmed that you are— unfortunately still sick.
The ringing of your doorbell made you groan, assuming it would be one of your friends since you messaged—no begged one of them to get you medicine. You bundled up your blankets til you reach the ground still dizzy as you use every doorway, table and chair to get you to your front door.
As you open the door—purple hair greeted.
Fuck, you really should've looked at the intercom.
"Raf I'm not in the mood."
You began to close the door when he blocked it using his arm.
"Cutie please hear me out—you can throw me out once I tell you what happened."
"I don't really wanna hear anything you sa—"
You said as a cough immediately cut you off, Rafayel used this to opportunity to open the door before immediately diving in with his knees as you began to lose your balance.
"Honey, I know what I did was terrible. The sea's would even agree with you."
As he pointed to the non-stop rain that was going outside.
"But I promise I never intended for any of it to happen! And I don't have any excuse for my mistake. I set every calendar and alarms because I know how important it would be to us. If I could do it all over again I would've went to you first thing in the morning. Please believe me on this."
God he looked like he wanted to cry.
You let out a few coughs before Rafayel guided you to the kitchen and grabbed you a glass of water.
"Raf…I can do it myself."
"Love I'm already a bad boyfriend for letting you get sick in the first place, please let me take care of you."
You sighed as you know there was no getting out of this.
"Cutie please just rest, I promise to be here when you sleep up and when you wake up."
The rain hadn't let up by the time he got you settled on the bed, three blankets deep like an eggroll with a cold cloth on your forehead.
"You're staring," you mumbled, eyes half-closed.
"I'm sorry cutie." Rafayel was perched on the edge of the bedside table.
You wanted to stay annoyed at him—you'd earned the right to, after being alone and feverish while he was off spending time with someone else—but the guilt on his face was so plain it was almost funny. Rafayel, who never apologized for anything without turning it into a performance, hadn't cracked a single joke since he walked in.
"You missed the date," you said quietly. Not accusing, just tired.
"I know." His jaw tightened. "And I'll spend the rest of it making up for it, if you let me. Starting with—" he stood, already moving toward your kitchen, "—soup. Do you have soup? You don't have soup. I'm making you soup."
"Raf."
He was already standing up purple hair flowing in all places—un-styled.
"Sleep. I'll be quick."
The door clicked shut behind him. You listened to his footsteps fade down the hall, the rain still hammering the window, and let your eyes fall closed—half annoyed, half something warmer you didn't have the energy to fight tonight, believing that he might deliver to his promise, you closed your eyes.
⎚-⎚ ZAYNE
The lights immediately blinded you as you opened your eyes.
"You're awake!" The nurse said as her eyes widens, she went out and called someone—a doctor you assumed as she asks you questions.
"Okay Miss, I'm going to ask a few questions okay?"
"I already know the drill"
The poor soul looks done with you but she still needs to do her job. After you answered all her questions right, the door immediately opened as you saw the visual of your boyfriend looking extremely disheveled, with his sleeves not looking as neatly as they did always, his hair looks like he ran through it with his hands a hundred times.
He immediately relaxed with the sight of you sitting up and coherent.
"My love, are you doing alright? What happened? Why were you hurt?"
"You should go to your other patients." You said coldly.
"I believe that wasn't my question Y/N."
You ran through your hair as you look at him with frustration—the look on your face says it all, you were upset and he doesn't even know why.
"Look, I get it—I'm not half as important as your patients. I can deal with this myself."
Zayne's face contorted to confusion then hurt all-together.
"What are you saying?"
"What I'm saying is, I got here hurt and bloodied expecting—praying that maybe one of your colleagues would patch me up! I was expecting myself to say sorry for being late because I accidentally hurt myself! but what I got here is you! you weren't even getting ready and I pushed all of it aside then I heard you you'll deal with us later, is that all I am to you? someone you can keep waiting?"
Tears were falling down your eyes as you exploded, this wasn't usual for you but you were so hurt and so dissapointed that you wanted answers, you wanted assurance from your boyfriend.
He immediately held your hand, as you exploded. Using his evol to cool you down while you were sobbing, he laid pecks and kisses throughout your whole palm right down to your wrist.
Zayne pressed another kiss to your wrist before finally lifting his head, his sea-glass eyes meeting yours.
"Let me explain," he said quietly, "Please."
You sniffled, saying nothing as you look at him—taking everything in you not to pull your hand away.
"Twenty minutes before you arrived, a transplant patient—MC was in the ICU…she started rejecting the organ. Sudden hemorrhaging. I was the only cardiothoracic attending on the floor and I was her primary physician as well." His thumb traced slow circles over your knuckles, grounding himself. "The 'I'll deal with it later'—that wasn't about you. Dr. Alvaro asked if we were still doing the case review after rounds. I said it without thinking—I didn't even hear Grayson because I had a phone in my hand, they were paging me non-stop after that my mind was already in that operating room."
Your breath hitched. "Then why didn't you just—"
"Because two minutes after that, someone said your name." His jaw tightened at the memory. "I heard the word 'Unconscious' and 'Y/N' in the same sentence, and I don't remember walking out of that ICU. I don't remember if I even scrubbed out properly. I just remember thinking I couldn't be the one to look at you like a patient — that if I saw you hurt and had to be clinical about it, I might lose my mind."
He finally looked up, and for a man who dealt in life and death every day with a steady hand, he looked almost lost.
"So I sent Nurse Lin in first. I told myself it was so you'd get looked at faster. But really — I think I was scared. Scared that if I walked in and saw you bleeding, I wouldn't be able to hold it together long enough to help you."
"You could've just told me that," You whispered.
"I know." He brought your hand up again, resting his forehead against it this time instead of his lips. "I'm sorry, You have every right to be angry. But please know I would never hurt you."
You let out a shaky breath.
"I thought... I don't know what I thought. That I wasn't a priority. That you'd rather be anywhere else."
"There is nowhere else I would rather be than right here," he said, voice low and certain, the kind of certainty he usually reserved for diagnoses. "You are not someone I keep waiting, Y/N. You are the reason I run."
Zayne rose slightly, pulling her gently into his chest, careful of your bandaged arm, and just held you there.
"I promise to never make you feel that way again my love."
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨 ⋆｡°✩ SYLUS
You didn't go back to your shared quarters that night. Instead, you took the spare room near Luke and Kieran's, ignoring their wide-eyed panic when you dropped your bag by their door and simply said,
"I'm staying here tonight."
"Miss—I don't think you should—Boss is going to kill us," Kieran whispered frantically getting you to sleep at your room with Sylus.
The first text came an hour later.
sylus
Where are you.
You didn't answer.
Then.
sylus
It's not what you think.
You scoffed at that text—Yeah sure.
You didn't answer that one as well.
By morning, there were twenty missed calls and voicemails ranging from sly to irritation to worry. Though you weren't in the mood to parse the difference. You went about Hunt business like normal, but this time you it was apparent you were upset.
As you look at the Wanderers, you didn't bother to clean your mess up. Even though you were always particular with this part of the job.
When Sylus tried to approach you in the briefing room, you addressed Kieran instead, asking him to relay the mission details "since apparently that's how we're doing things now."
You immediately saw how his jaw tightened.
This went on for two days. You redirected his calls to Luke. You sent mission reports through Kieran. You ate meals at different times, timed almost surgically to avoid him — and for someone who ran half of N109 Zone with terrifying efficiency, Sylus looked, for the first time in longer than you could remember, completely out of his depth.
On the third night, you found him waiting outside your door. Not smug. Not composed. Just leaning against the frame like he'd been standing there a while.
"This is childish, even for you kitten." he said, but there was no bite in it.
"So is leaving someone waiting for hours and not saying a word," you replied, arms crossed. "Funny how you only noticed the silence when it was coming from me."
Something in his expression cracked—just slightly.
"I know I messed up Sweetie. I'm asking you to let me explain, not disappear on me for three days."
"You disappeared first."
He sighed, as he suddenly carried you with ease. You took it as a sign to shuffle but his hold on you was incredibly tight, to the point that you can't even use your evol to disarm him.
He took you to his room, Luke and Kieran giving you a smile with sweat beading down their faces when you saw them in the hallway.
As he set you down on the bed you began talking.
"What do you want Sy? I don't want to waste my time."
"I have all the time in the world to keep you here sweetie."
Frustrated you glared at him "You could've explained days ago," you finally said.
"I tried calling. You didn't want to hear it."
"Because you didn't even try before that! You just left me sitting there for hours, and the first thing I see when I finally track you down is you getting cozy with someone else! like I'm some loose end." Your voice cracked slightly on the last word, and you hated that it did.
Sylus's expression shifted — the careful composure he wore like armor slipping for just a moment.
He ran a hand through his hair, something almost like frustration directed at himself. "Miss Hunter needed a cover story to meet with Dimitri near the south checkpoint. It wasn't something I could loop you into safely—not until I knew it wasn't a setup."
"And the pose? The way you touched her?"
"Necessary theater for anyone watching. Nothing more."
He finally closed the distance, close enough that you had to tilt your head up to meet his eyes.
"But you standing there, watching it happen without context — that wasn't necessary. That was me being careless with you, and I know it."
Silence settled between you, softer now than it had been in days.
"Three days, Sylus," you said quietly. "You let this go on for three days before you actually came to talk to me."
"I know." He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch featherlight, like he wasn't sure you'd let him. "I was giving you space. And also — if I'm honest — I didn't know how to walk up to you without making it worse."
That, at least, sounded like the truth.
You finally let your arms drop, some of the tension bleeding out of your shoulders.
"Next time you have to disappear for the job, you tell me. Even if it's just 'I can't explain right now, trust me.' Don't leave me guessing."
"Deal." His hand slid to rest against your cheek, thumb brushing gently. "I really am sorry. I don't say that often, so take it as the miracle it is."
You huffed a small, reluctant laugh despite yourself. "Don't ruin the moment."
"Wouldn't dream of it." He leaned down, resting his forehead against yours the way he always did when words weren't quite enough. "Come back to our room tonight?"
You paused, just long enough to make him sweat a little more — small payback — before finally nodding. "Fine. But you're explaining everything. All of it."
"Deal." he agreed, pulling you into him at last, the tension of the last three days finally unwinding between you both.
｡‧˚ʚ🍎ɞ˚‧｡⋆ CALEB
You woke up with someone holding your hand as you breathe through an oxygen mask.
As you move your fingers—Caleb immediately met your eyes.
"Baby? are you awake? can you hear me?" Caleb says as he meets your eyes.
Coughing you take the mask off as you let go of his hand. You immediately see how his expression changed and how he reached for your hand again.
"Y/N please."
He said as his eyes got watery.
Your throat feels raw, scraped from the tube they must have had down it. The beeping monitor is too loud, the hospital light too white, and Caleb's hand is too warm against yours—like nothing happened. Like you didn't watch him through a door, pressed close to her, whispering, hiding something in his palm.
"Don't," you rasp, pulling your hand back again, ignoring the way pain flares hot across your chest when you move. "Don't touch me."
Caleb's face crumbles. He's still in the same clothes from that night—blood on the cuffs—like he hasn't let himself change, hasn't let himself sleep.
"Y/N, it's not what you think. I swear to God, it's not what you think—"
"Wait—" Your hand comes up weakly, cutting him off, and your eyes drop to your own chest for the first time—to the bandages peeking out under the hospital gown, to the IV taped into your arm, to his blood-soaked cuffs which you now realize is not his blood at all.
"I got— what happened? Caleb, what happened to me?"
His breath catches like you'd hit him. For a second he just stares at you, like he can't believe you didn't know, like he forgot you'd wake up to a body that doesn't remember the worst part yet.
"You—" he starts, then stops, jaw tight, gathering himself before he says it plain because you deserve plain. "You ran out of the building. After you saw me with her. You weren't looking, there was a car, and someone in it—someone connected to me, to the shit with my enemies—took the shot they'd been waiting to take on me for weeks." His hand hovers near your cheek like he's afraid to actually touch you.
"It hit you instead. Right here." His fingers ghost just above the bandage, not touching, shaking. "Missed your heart by less than an inch, Y/N. Less than an inch."
He continued with shaking breaths.
"They told me—" his voice cracks clean in half, "—they told me if it had been half an inch to the left I wouldn't have gotten to sit here holding your hand at all."
He drags in a breath that shakes on the way in.
"You almost died running from a lie. My lie. Something I let you believe because I was too much of a coward to just tell you what I was planning." His hand finally closes, gentle, careful, over yours. "And now I need you to hear the truth, even if you hate me for how long it took me to say it."
He nods down at the box still open in his other hand, the ring glinting under the harsh light, his whole body braced like he expects you to throw it back at him.
"I wasn't with her the way you think. I was hiding this. I've been planning it for weeks. That night I was asking her if I got everything right by your standards—because I wanted to get it right, I wanted it to be perfect and instead I got you nearly killed by hiding the one thing I've ever wanted to be honest with you about."
His forehead drops against the mattress by your hip, shoulders shaking.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Just—please. Please let me explain the rest, and then you can hate me if you still want to."
Your chest aches—from the wound, from the words, from all of it tangled together—but you don't pull your hand away this time. You just stare at him, at this man who is normally so composed, so terrifyingly in control, completely unraveled on his knees beside your hospital bed.
"Explain," you whisper. "All of it. Don't leave anything out this time."
He nods, fast, like he's grateful you're even letting him try.
"Three weeks ago I went to your favorite jeweler. The one you pointed at in that shop window in the spring and pretended you weren't looking at." A wet, broken almost-laugh escapes him. "I noticed. I always notice. I had it made, and then I didn't know where to keep it because you go through everything, baby, you organize my socks—everything, so I panicked and I left it in the my office because in this way I can secure it without you accidentally seeing it.
His hand tightens around yours, and when he speaks again his voice is thick with a different kind of guilt. "That night—the night you saw me with her—that was supposed to be it, Y/N. I had the restaurant booked. I had the whole night planned down to the minute. I was supposed to be at that table waiting for you an hour before you even got there, ring in my pocket, and instead I was standing in my office because the gem had come loose and I was panicking, trying to get it fixed before you showed up, asking her what I should say, how I should say it, wanting every single detail to be perfect for once in my life."
His jaw tightens like it costs him something to keep going. "I lost track of time. I didn't answer your texts because I didn't want to lie to you over the phone about where I was. And so you came looking for me instead—on the one night I most needed you to just stay put and trust me—and you found me standing close to another woman with something hidden in my hands, on the exact night I was supposed to be putting a ring on your finger over candlelight. No wonder you ran. No wonder you didn't hear a word I would've said if I'd had the chance to say it."
His hand tightens further around yours, desperate.
"I should've told you months ago what I was planning instead of trying to build some perfect, secret night around it. If I had, you'd have known exactly what you were looking at. You'd have known to wait, to ask, to trust me one more second instead of turning and running into the street. You'd still be sleeping easy in my bed right now instead of—"
He gestures at the machines, the mask, the bandage, and his voice finally gives out completely, shoulders shaking with everything he's been holding since that night.
For a long moment you don't say anything. You just watch him—red-eyed, unshaven, still in the clothes he bled your blood onto—and you feel the anger in your chest finally start to loosen its grip, not because it wasn't justified, but because you can see, plainly, that he's telling the truth. Caleb doesn't cry. Caleb doesn't kneel. Caleb doesn't beg. And he's doing all three.
"You should've told me," you say quietly. "Not about the ring. About the danger. About your enemies. I didn't even know to be scared, Caleb. I didn't know I needed to look both ways."
"I know." His voice is wrecked. "I know, and that's on me too. I wanted to protect you from it, and instead I almost got you killed by keeping you in the dark. I'm done doing that. Whatever happens with us—with this—" he glances at the ring, throat working, "—I'm not hiding anything from you again. Ever. I'd rather you be angry at the truth than nearly die for a lie."
You breathe out slowly, wincing at the pull in your chest, and finally—finally—let your fingers curl properly around his.
"Ask me again," you murmur. "Properly. Not on a hospital floor with me hooked up to a monitor and looking like death."
A stunned, wet laugh breaks out of him, disbelieving and grateful all at once. "Right here. Right now?"
"You already ruined the restaurant plan," you say, the ghost of a smile finally tugging at your mouth despite everything. "Might as well."
He laughs again, shakier this time, and lifts himself up just enough to be eye level with you, ring held between two trembling fingers.
"Y/N," he says, voice low and cracked open in a way you've never heard from him before, "I have never in my life been as scared as I was watching you get wheeled away from me, thinking the last real thing between us was you looking at me like I was a stranger. I don't want to almost lose you again without you knowing, without any doubt in your mind, that you are it for me. All of it. The good, the ugly, the parts of my life I hate that I have to carry. Marry me. Let me spend the rest of it making sure you never have to run from me again."
Your eyes fill despite your best efforts, and this time you let them. "Yes," you whisper, voice cracking on the word. "Yes, you idiot. Yes."
He slides the ring onto your finger with hands that are still shaking, then presses his forehead so gently to yours that it doesn't hurt at all—just warm, and real, and finally, finally honest.
ⵉ߮ 𐄁᠇𐄁 ߮ᜢ VALKO
You woke up when you heard rummaging around your studio.
You went down assuming it was a robber when, the top head with maroon hair greeted you.
Valko arrived six hours late from your scheduled date. You watched him rummage around your studio when he finally stops infront of the trashcan where you threw the metal flower you made him.
You also immediately saw how his face paled in comparison to his hair.
Looking up his eyes found yours, as you try to go upstairs he ran towards you.
"Y/N." His voice cracked on your name.
You flinched, but didn't look his way. "Go home, Valko."
"I found this in the trash." He knelt in front of you, holding the flowers out on his open palm like an offering, like evidence, like his own heart handed over for you to do with as you pleased. His hands, so steady when bending iron to his will, were shaking now.
"You made this for me. You burned yourself making this for me, and I—"
His voice broke completely, and for a man who could reshape steel with a thought, and for a man who was feared, he sounded extremely small.
"I need you to let me explain before you decide I don't deserve to know why you're hurting like this."
"There was a commotion in the lower district," he said quickly, before you could even ask. "A supply cart collided with a stall, cargo everywhere, people trapped under crates—I couldn't just walk past it, Y/N, not when I could bend the metal off them faster than anyone else there. That's why I was late. I wasn't avoiding you. I was trying to get back to you as fast as I could."
You said nothing, just stared at him. Before finally showing him the photo your bestfriend sent you.
Valko's jaw tightened as he saw the photo again on your phone screen when you finally turned it toward him, the accusation clear in the way your hand shook holding it out
"And this—" he gestured helplessly at the picture still glowing on your screen, at his arms wrapped around a woman who wasn't you, "—this is not what it looks like. I swear on every forge I've ever worked. She tripped. There was rubble everywhere, uneven ground, and she stumbled right as I turned around, and I just—caught her. That's all. I didn't even know her name until after."
You let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking your head.
"You expect me to believe that? Valko, she had her arms around you in the second picture."
"Because she was startled and grabbed onto the nearest thing, which happened to be me—"
"Convenient."
"Y/N—"
Your phone buzzed again before he could finish. Another message from your best friend. You looked down, and whatever color remained in your face drained further as you read it.
"Girl. It's literally in the news. Look."
Attached was a link—an article, published only twenty minutes ago, headline blazing across the top: "Good Samaritan Saves Bystanders in Lower District Collapse—Local Woman Injured in Cart Collision Rescued." Below it, a photo nearly identical to the one your friend had sent, except this one had context—rubble, panicked onlookers, a woman clutching her ankle where she'd twisted it in the fall, Valko's arms the only thing that kept her from hitting the ground wrong.
Your hand covering your mouth, phone nearly slipping from your fingers. "Oh my god."
Valko didn't say I told you so. He didn't say anything smug at all. He just watched the guilt crash into you the same way the truth had crashed into him minutes earlier, kneeling in front of a trash bin holding the dented piece of what you'd made him.
"I'm not angry that you doubted it," he said quietly, reaching for your hand—the same calloused, burn-marked hand. "I'm angry that I gave you a reason to doubt at all. I was late. I didn't call. And you were sitting here with something you clearly poured everything into, and instead of feeling loved, you felt like it had all been for nothing."
In his other hand, revealing the flowers still cradled there, dented slightly from where it had hit the bottom of the trash bin.
"You made this for me, and I made you doubt me enough to throw it away. So please—" his voice cracked, raw and honest in a way he rarely allowed, "—let me be the one to make this right. Both things. Me being late, and the fact that you ever thought for one second I could look at someone else the way I look at you."
You looked down at both of your hands, then back up at him—windswept, breathless, still smelling faintly of smoke and iron from a fire he hadn't even started for you.
"Next time," you said, voice thick but steadier now, curling your burned fingers around his, "just answer your phone. I don't care how many carts collapse."
a/n: FAAAAAAAAAAH this was so fun to do! i really liked how i approached caleb's storyline! also xavier could never do u wrong (i stand by it) thanks for all the love! i have so much in store for u guys <3
