Star Gazing

You get gravely injured instead of the LADS boys

with [chubby reader]

[chubby reader, don't like it, don't read it]

Summary: You jumped in front of them during a fight and got severely injured instead.

warnings: extreme injuries, angst, blood, crying, comfort, fluff, gn! reader, reader and the boys fight together against wanderers/ criminals and are already in a relationship, probably ooc because we haven't seen the boys when they're extremely worried yet, if you work in the medical field beware, extremely inaccurate

⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Xavier:

Xavier's wrapped his muscular arm around you and he helped you as you limped forward. Every step felt like another slash to your thigh and you whimpered out. You jumped in front of Xavier without any hesitation; he was distracted. He didn’t see the sharp weapon coming. You on the other hand did. You saw it coming, and jumped in front of him like a fool. Dizziness surrounded your vision, and you exhaled shakily as dark spots danced around your vision. You collapsed to the ground and felt Xavier's arms around you. He pressed his pretty hand firmly against your plush and bloody thigh and you cried out in pain as you tried to shove him off. Xavier's hand tightened and tears began rolling down your face. You knew that he was just stopping the bleeding, but in your woozy mind it was the biggest betrayal. Xavier yelled something into his phone , which you couldn’t understand. He gripped your face tightly and gently smacked against your cheeks, but you didn’t respond. You just smiled and you took in his features.

His usual soft expression was sour. He breathed heavily, causing his chest to heave quickly. Xaviers sky blue eyes were dark and wet, his nosrils flaring with every shaky inhale. His mouth was pulled into a frown and formed words you couldn't hear before your eyes rolled backwards and you slumped back.

When you woke up again, you laid in a white hospital bed. The pungent odor of disinfectant invaded your nostrils and a soft beep sounded through the room. Your looked around in confusion and followed the tubes going in and out of your body. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw messy blonde hair slumped on your hand. Xavier. His face was buried in your palm.

You called out his name and Xavier immediately jumped out of his seat. His hands were trembling and his mouth was slight agape. His clothes were messy and dark purple crescents grazed his undereye. Xavier opened his mouth but the words were stuck in his throat. Not even a single squeak could be heard.

"Xavier?", you croaked out carefully and watched his expression. He looked down to the floor when silent sobs raked through his body. Your eyes widened and your heart squeezed painfully. Xavier’s lip trembled and tears rolled down his face. He furrowed his eyebrows and his trembling lips were pulled into a deep frown.

“Why did you do it?“, he asked you quietly.

You looked at him and before you could respond Xavier walked towards you in quick and heavy strides. He firmly grasped your shoulders and very gently shook you.

“I asked you something. Why would you do that?“, Xavier spat out. “Never do that again. I could never live with myself if you.. Oh god, please. Please, please, please. Don’t ever do that again. Not for me, not for anybody else. Okay? Please.“ Xavier’s angry voice turned into one of pure despair and his hands left your shoulders. He grabbed your hands with trembling hands. His long and slender fingers wrapped around your soft ones as he buried his face in your hands. You let him cry his heart out.

Your leg will recover form this injury. However, the image of you laying in a pool of your own blood will never leave Xavier’s mind. You jumping in front of him because of his own incompetence. Its unacceptable. The memories haunted his deepest nightmares and he‘d never forgive himself for it.

• during remission, Xavier treated you like a doll. He didn’t mean to, he really didn’t but he couldn’t help it. You’re so precious to him and he almost lost you. He was very gentle and loving with you (not that he wasn’t loving before) and he helped you wash yourself. It was a bit difficult for you to take care of yourself because of your leg, but Xavier will be there every step of the way. Sometimes, he laid awake at night and couldn’t stop replaying the scene of you getting hurt. The absolute despair and fear he felt at the thought of losing you. He’d stroke your cheek and cuddle your round body into his. Sometimes he’d even shed a fear tears.

Zayne:

You didn't even know how it happened. One minute you and Zayne were fighting side by side against the wanderers and in the next, the wall next to Zayne collapsed. Your heart dropped to your stomach and everything around you seemed to slow down. The debris fell too quickly for you to call out to Zayne and warn him, so you ran without any hesitation. Everything that happened after was just a mere blur. You pushed him out of the way and felt as if a million sledgehammers landed on top of you before you were out like a light. The last thing you heard was Zayne yelling out your name.

You woke up with a violent throb in your head. It felt like somebody was splitting your head into two pieces and the blinding light didn't help at all. You looked down and found yourself in a clean bed. Your eyes popped up and saw Zayne's broad back. His white button- up was crumpled and his sleeves were rolled up unevenly, which exposed his scarred forearms. Zayne's dark hair was tussled and he was checking the scans of your body. You moved and a sharp pain shot through your head and through the right side of your body. You winced sharply and exhaled shakingly.

Zayne's body froze; his scarred hand hovered over the scan and his shoulders tensed. Yet, he remained still and didn't turn around. You both just sat in silence for a few seconds until you called out to him.

"Zayne?", your voice was very raspy.

He exhaled softly and turned around to face you. He looked like hell. His eyes were bloodshot and he had deep eyebags under his eyes. A few parts of his body were covered in bandages and plasters. Zayne took a few shaky steps toward you, but then stopped dead in his tracks and cleared his throat.

"You-", his voice cracked and his lip trembled. He looked down to the ground and closed his eyes. Zayne clenched his jaw and exhaled deeply. He looked up again and his expression was emotionless.

"You are severely concussed and have suffered some fractures. Your remission will take a few months, but you will heal. The fight ended well. The wanderers were taken care of, and nobody else was hurt." Zayne explained monotonely, his gaze focused on your medical records.

"Alright", you responded raspily and you winced at the pain in your head.

"I've given you painkillers just before you woke up, they should kick in soon." He responded in the same soft and monotone tone and you sighed. "Zayne, are you okay?"

"Don't ever do that again."

You blinked up at him in confusion and he finally looked up from the records. Ice crystals formed around his neck and he stared intently at you. You're beginning to miss the time where he wouldn't look at you.

"What? You mean save you? Of course I would do it-"

"Baby, please." He begged. A few unintended sobs bubbled out of his chest and his shoulders shook as he continued to cry silently. He buried his face in his hands as his shoulders kept heaving.

You stared in shock. You've never seen him cry, especially this hard. Even when he was sad, he usually kept his icy facade up.

"If it ever comes down to it, please, please, just let me die. Don't ever make me live through that fear again. Please. I can't take it. When I had to remove all the debris from you, not knowing whether you're alive. No, just don't." Zayne replied, his voice was almost completely gone and the tears had dried on his face.

You slowly sat up and ignored the throb in your head. Zayne watched you and helped you up. You opened up your arms for him and Zayne immediately buried himself in your plush chest as your thick arms engulfed him. He cried silently into your chest and you ran your fingers through his dark hair.

"I'm sorry, shh. I'm really sorry."

• during remission: he'll of course be your doctor (let's not talk about the ethics of that) and take care of your healing process. He'll supervise your every move almost obsessively. Zayne will be extremely strict regarding the process and won't give into your cute little faces. Not this time. He'll wash and massage your pretty round body for you almost daily. Once you start feeling better, he'll punish you during sex. It'll be deep and intimate. You scared the absolute shit out of him and he needs you to never do that again.

Rafayel:

You laid on the ground with a deep burning sensation across your chest. What just happened? You were fighting with Rafayel and then..

The painful sensation in your chest doubled and you whimpered out in agony. Your head turned to the side and you saw Rafayel fighting with vehement vigor. His moves were aggresssive and powerful as ripped the wanderers apart. After he finished them off, he ran in your direction.

"No,no,no. No, youre okay. Fuck! You're okay.“ He pressed his hand against your ample torso and agony ripped through you. You screamed out in pain and immediately tried squirming away, but you were unable to do so. Tears ran down Rafayel's face, but he pressed down further and ignored your screams. He held his phone to his ear and called somebody for help, but you couldn't be bothered to listen further. You focused on Rafayel's hand, though; Rafayel's hand, which pressed down on your chest earlier was extremely bloody and you stared at it in shock.

Rafayel followed you gaze and shook his head. "You're totally fine. The paramedics are coming, okay? They'll be here soon. Just stay awake, stay awake for me. Cutie, please."

You nodded and widened your eyes. Rafayel nodded and pressed his lips to your forehead. "Perfect. Just like that. Just stay awake with me and then when the paramdedic come, we'll just go home. Fuck." His voice broke at the end and you nodded. You widened your eyes yet again and ignored the pain in your chest. "You shouldn't have done it. It would've just hit my side. I would've been fine." Rafayel gritted out.

"It’s my job as your Miss bodyguard, isn’t it?", you asked weakly. The pain in your chest was thankfully dissappearing, but so was your of the awareness of everything around you. Rafayel's eyes snapped to you and his jaw dropped. His face was pale as he stammered out. "No. No, I didn't want-".

Sirens blared in the background and Rafayel was ripped out of his thoughts and exhaled shakingly. "Thank God. We're okay, alright? Just hold on for a bit longer, we'll be okay soon. Please."

Your eyes started to close. "No! No, its okay! They're almost here. Please, stay awake." He cried out as you lost your consciousness.

You woke in the hospital room and saw Rafayel by your side. Around your chest were bandages. You winced out and Rafayel's eyes snapped to you. He smiled softly and stroked your cheek. "Hi, cutie. How are you doing? The doctor said it'll leave a nasty scar, but remission will be a breeze."

You smiled at him. "I'm okay, and you?"

Rafayel looked straight ahead for a few seconds before looking back at you with a weak smile. He held up a thumb and you chuckled drily. "If I knew I could get you to shut up, I would've ended up in the hospital sooner." Rafayel exhaled through his nose but remained quiet otherwise. His shoulders dropped and he looked down to the ground. He looked utterly defeated and you could not take it.

"Rafayel-", he interrupted you quietly.

"You're fired." Rafayel leaned over and set his chin down on the back of his hands.

You raised an eyebrow at him, but he stayed quiet throughout. You rubbed his back and he closed his eyes. "I didn't tell you to be my bodyguard, so that you could go ahead and sacrifice yourself for me. I hired you so that you would be around me, not so that you can die a morons death." He mumbled, his voice soft.

You wanted to reply sarcastically or say something that'll make him laugh, but you just couldn't.

"Rafayel, I'd do it aga-", Rafayel interrupted you while shaking his head. His face was adorned by a soft and genuine smile. "I know you would, but this will never happen again. I won't allow it. I won't even allow the opportunity to arise. Don't worry. I'll make sure it won't happen again."

• during remission, he'll slowly start behaving like his normal self again. He'll be fun and will make you laugh, but he was so very deeply affected by the situation. He'll be more aggressive towards potential threats and doesn't allow you to defend yourself. It'll take some time for him to let you do any dangerous activities (if ever), but you both slowly heal. He buys you beautiful flowy gowns and clothes that don't rub against your scar, and he will paint your new body in ever single position you could think of. He quite literally worships you; feeding you while you're propped somewhere comfortable, rubbing oil on your scar and other parts of your rounded body.

Sylus:

You woke up and saw Sylus‘ furious face above you. Your ears were ringing and your shoulder felt like it was on fire. Sylus‘ clenched his jaw and yelled something to somebody on the other side of the room. You couldn’t hear it, though. You couldn’t hear anything due to the ringing in your ears. You remember what happened now. Sylus talked to some of his “business partners“ and they turned out to be rats. They pulled the gun on him faster than Sylus could pull out his own. He was caught off guard- once. He was careless one time. And you jumped in front of him when they pulled the trigger.

The metallic taste of blood hit you and you felt something pour out of your mouth. You looked up at Sylus in confusion, his chest heaved quickly and he furrowed his eyebrows. His eyes were wide and his mouth slightly agape. He looked.. scared. Sylus has never looked scared before.

You lost consciousness and woke up in Sylus‘ room. You were bandaged properly and wore clean oversized clothes. You had an IV- injection and looked around the room.

Sylus sat on his black couch with a glass of wine in his hand. He quietly drank it and looked out of his window. You smiled fondly and called out his name, your voice husky.

His head turned to yours and he smiled softly. It didn’t reach his eyes. He stood up and slowly walked over to you. His evol slowly engulfed you. It felt firm on your un-injured parts and gentle on your chest and shoulder area. He looked down on you with an unreadable expression.

“What happened?“, you asked him and tried to wiggle your feet. Everything seemed normal.

Sylus hummed softly, his husky voice low. “You took a bullet for me and I killed the attackers. I was careless. That won‘t happen again. A doctor patched you up and that’s it.“

You raised an eyebrow at his abrasive tone and he raised an eyebrow at you. His face was expressionless and he leaned down to your ear. He kissed the shell of your ear and gripped your cheeks between his large hands. His grip was firm and he gently turned your face towards him.

“Don’t ever play the hero again. Recklessness is stupid. And you’re not stupid. You’re clever. Don’t do it again- I‘m serious. Not for anyone else, and especially not for somebody like me.“

“Sylus, I love you. You would do the same for me and-“

“Yes. Yes I would, in fact. So let me repeat this again.“ Sylus leaned back toward your ear and whispered in it. “If you do that again, I’ll kill a person. Your noble sacrifice will have been for nothing. And if you happen to die during one of your heroic missions, you can’t even begin to imagine the damage I would do to the world. And you can trust me on that.“

You gulped and looked at him. Your heart raced and the monitor beeped. Sylus immediately relaxed his face and sighed. He leaned forward and tenderly kissed your temple. His lips stayed there for a long time and you blinked up at him.

He stroked your cheek and kissed you softly.

“Asshole“, you mumbled and Sylus chuckled against your cheek. The vibrations made you smile and Sylus put his hand on your plush stomach.

“You really, really scared me.“ Sylus mumbled softly.

“Sorry“, you replied and Sylus helped you sit up.

• during remission: Sylus will service you in any way he can. He‘ll cook for you, bathe you. He’ll buy you any instrument that you may need for physical therapy and will do all of your exercises with you. Will not get upset at all if you snap at him when you’re in pain. He‘ll massage your scars and will offer sexual remedies. Though, he will never be this careless again. The memories of you laying in your own pool of blood will haunt him til he dies.

Caleb:

You were pretty confused. Yesterday, you and Caleb fought side by side against criminals. They were vicious and dangerous, but Caleb and you were managing well. Well, until you jumped in front of Caleb and got flung against the wall in his stead. Your back took the brunt of it and you were out like a light immediately. When you woke up yesterday evening, they told you that the damage was minor. Your back was extremely badly bruised, but it could’ve turned out so much worse, so you were very happy. The reason why you were confused was why Caleb wouldn’t show up. It was after- visiting hours yesterday after your surgery, so that wasn’t all to surprising, but he didn’t visit you today either.

You were being released today and walked out of the hospital. You sighed and saw a a tall man in a familiar uniform waiting in front of the hospital. Caleb stood in front of you in his colonel uniform. His face was emotionless and he looked at you from the top of your head to your shoes.

“Caleb, Hi.“ You greeted in confusion.

“Are you okay?“, he asked monotonely and you raised your eyebrows and nodded. He sniffed and nodded. Caleb bent down and took your bag and started walking.

“Okay..“, you replied in confusion and trailed after him.

You reached the car and he put the seatbelt on you and drove the two of you home. He still hadn’t said anything and stared at the road. When the two of you reached his house, he helped you up the stairs. His hand wrapped firmly around your wrist and he slowly led you over to the bed.

“Okay, do you wanna tell me what’s going on with you or should we just pretend that everything is normal?“

You sat on the edge of the bed and sighed. Caleb stood in front of you and clenched his jaw. He looked down at the ground with tight fists and his lips wobbled. Your eyes softened and Caleb fell to his knees. Tears streamed down his face and he pressed his face into the plush of your thighs. He sobbed his heart out as his shoulders shook. You gently stroked over his scalp and let him cry.

“Don‘t you ever fucking do that again. It doesn’t matter if it happens to me, but it can’t happen to you- it just can’t. Fuck. There’s no me without you. Just kill me if you had to choose between the two of cause I’d follow you anyways. Please just don’t-“, you interrupted his rambling and cupped his cheeks. He cried and leaned into your touch like a puppy and you stroked away the tears under his eyes.

“I‘m okay, it’s just a bruise. A big one, but just a bruise nonetheless.

Caleb sniffed and wiped his tears. He looked up at you and took of your shirt. Caleb slowly rose and walked over to face your back. He let out a scoff and you looked at him. His eyes were laser focused on your injury and he didn’t say anything for a few minutes until he pulled out his phone. He took a picture of your back and then gently nudged you until you laid on your stomach.

“I have something to do, but I’ll be back right after. Do you need food? Painkillers? Do you need to pee?“, he asked and you sighed.

“You‘re leaving again? You already weren’t there yesterday.“ The words tumbled out before you could stop them and his breath hitched.

“The only reason why I wasn’t there is because of the same reason now. I swear to you on everything that I’ll be back after this. I’m so sorry that you were alone today.“

You nodded in agreement and he leaned over and tenderly kissed the rolls of your back. “Get some sleep. I’ll take care of the rest when I get back.“

Caleb reached his work building and walked quickly through his office and saw the criminals from yesterday. They got away after he heard the crack of your body against the wall. Caleb shook himself out of that nightmarish scenario and looked at the beaten and bloody criminals in front of him. It took the entire day, but he finally found them. Their lair wasn’t as well hidden as they’d hoped. He crossed his arms over his chest and pulled out his phone. He opened up the gallery to reveal the picture he took of your injury and he showed it to them.

“Remember that? Cause I do.“

Caleb stared at the picture until he memorised every single detail of it and and put it back in his pocket.

“I remember every single thing about it.“ Caleb tilted his head to the side and used his evol to apply pressure on their backs. The criminals started screaming and Caleb smiled. He needed to hurry up, you already felt neglected by him.

When Caleb made his way home after he finished up his business, he found you in the same position he had left you in. Your injury was still exposed and he stared at it. This was his fault. His shame and his burden to bare.

“Caleb?“

“Yes, pipsqueak?“

“I think I was wrong. I do need your help to pee.“

He chuckled softly and helped you sit up. He gently grabbed your hands and led you to the bathroom.

-during remission: pretty much nothing changes. He‘ll still do most of the chores around the house (because he wants to do them) and will feed you, cook for you, bathe you, and do the laundry. He‘ll never tell you about what he did to those men and you never ask him. Some nights the memories of your bruised body keep him awake, though. On these nights he‘ll want to bury himself in your ample chest and never leave.

My first fic in years. If there is any error, let me know.

Prompt: You had begged Xavier to roleplay as Lumiere. He refused multiple times until he finally gave in.

...

"Is this the meeting you had been expecting?" One of his hands on your throat while the other rested on your hip. You were trembling at his contact. You had been waiting for this moment and all your mind could think about was your husband's touch.

"Lu-lumiere!"

He even kept the mask on, you could not see him but you could feel how possessive he was getting by the second and how he was starting to enjoy it as well. Lumiere leaned forward, his lips brushing your ear, beating it.

"Is this what you like?" His grip getting stronger "You like being touched by another man, whore?"

The word sank in, it was the first time he called you that. You knew what you were asking for when you begged for him to act as Lumiere but that word, whore, strung a nerve.

"MC?" Xavier's touch lighten up as he felt you tensing up.

"I am not a whore..." A tear, then another and another. Your cheeks were now a river, tears falling into the mattress "I am not a whore" you bit your lip.

He pulled off from you, tossed that damned mask and spin you around. Maybe he had gotten a little carried away when he had hear you calling him Lumiere.

"No!" His arms wrapping around you as a cocoon "You are no whore. I am sorry..."

"You called me a whore" you were not looking at him, eyes full of tears and shame. Did he really thought that you were a whore or was something on the spur of the moment? In any case, you did not like it. "Do you think I am a whore?"

"No" he took one of your hands and kissed it, seeing that you did not pull away, he fell back on the bed "I would never think that about you" his hands traveled around your body giving you comforting squeezes "You are the most precious star in all the universe... I got jealous when I heard you call me Lumiere"

"But you are Lumiere!" You hit his chest "You shouldn't be jealous of your own self!"

Xavier sighed. How he could explain his jealousy, his love for you? He had lived for centuries, gave up his tittle for you, had see you fall in love with other man in the past, the thought of you want him to pretend to be someone else, even for one night, made his chest burst with jealousy.

He looked at you, the marks he had left in your love making, the way your skin glittered by the sweat due to all the work he had made you do, his gaze rested in yours. Your eyes shimmered with sadness, a sadness he had also put in there.

"I am Lumiere" he brushed your hair out of your face "But I don't want to be Lumiere with you. I want to be Xavier, I want for you to look at me and say my name"

Your hands reached for his, taking them to your chest. Your beating hard under his palm was a confession of your love for him.

"Xavier, I only love you" your eyes burning into his "I asked you to be Lumiere because you are Lumiere. I don't want any other man in my heart that it's not you"

Xavier's heart beat faster as the words left your lips. He should have know better, he should have already know that you were his, the wedding band on your finger should have been proof enough.

"I am sorry that I called you a whore" his hand moved to your face, brushing away the rest of the tears "How I can made it to you?" His hands rested in your hips, unsure if you would like to continue with your nightly activities.

Your lips met his cheek "I want for my husband cuddle with me until I forget Lumiere's offence... Also, get ride of the suit"

Xavier smiled, his lips looking for yours. Xavier spent of the night showing you with love until the sun came up. Lumiere's custom already forgotten in the floor.

What happens when the LADS guys are caught crying?

A/N: what the title says :) . I've always been someone that people have come to with their problems (forever the therapist friend) and comforting them. But I was thinking about what it'd be like to see the lads men cry, as there's a stigma around men crying (which is stupid but anyways). They're a lil short, but I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: a lil angst, mentions of death, comfort, crying

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Rafayel 

When Thomas called you saying Rafayel had been dodging his calls all day, you weren't surprised. That was typical of your boyfriend. You decided to give him a call and maybe persuade him to finish a painting or two, but he didn't answer. Growing slightly concerned, you called again, but still nothing. Rafayel never missed your calls. He had even answered one day when he was using the bathroom, never wanting to miss a call from his muse. Since you were off work today anyway, you decided to pay him a visit, grabbing your keys and heading to his place. 

It was eerily empty in his house, which worried you even more. Something was off. Had he decided to go on a spontaneous trip out of town? He would have answered your calls then. You decided to try calling him again, not knowing what else to do. Your heart sank when you heard the familiar jingle play, going towards his phone that was going off. Rafayel had left his phone behind. Even more unheard of. The first place you thought of to look for him was the sea, the beach outside his house. If he wasn't there, there were a few more places to try, but that was the closest place. Opening his back door, you stepped out into his yard, leaving it and walking along the sand. 

You had almost decided to turn around and look somewhere else when you spotted a figure up ahead. The head of lilac hair told you it was Rafayel. His knees were pulled to his chest, sitting in the sand, his head gazing out to the sea, his clothes soaked as sat where the waves met the sand, the waves brushing up against him. A breath of relief left your lips, though you were still concerned. Picking up your pace, you jogged over to him, watching him as you got closer. You could tell that something was wrong in the way he sat and gazed out to the sea. Slowing down when you were close, you could see tears falling like pearls from his eyes, slipping down his face and splattering into the sea water. Your heart broke at the sight, carefully moving to sit next to him, not caring about getting your favorite pants soaked. When your arm wrapped around him, he jumped slightly, turning to see who had joined him. Saying nothing, you pulled him closer to you, his head easily falling onto your chest, a silent way of telling him it was okay to be crying. A way to tell him that you were there for him. 

His arms unraveled from his legs and wrapped around you, the sea beginning to soak your legs and his tears soaking your shirt. You brought a hand up to his head, patting his hair as he cried. When he seemed to settle, his tears slowing, you broke the silence. “What happened?” 

“It's nothing,” he muttered. 

“If it got you out here crying and not answering my calls it's not nothing,” you argued. 

“Sorry,” he hid his face. You gently placed a hand on his cheek, encouraging to face you. 

“You don't need to apologize, Raf. I'm more worried than anything. You know you can talk to me, right? You can cry or scream or pout in front of me and I won't run. I care about you so very much.” 

“I miss home,” his voice broke slightly as he admitted what was bothering him. You nodded in understanding, staying silent. “I miss Lemuria. My friends and family. My home. The stupid fish and whales. I miss all of them and I'm the only one I can blame for that. It's my fault they're gone.” His words sat heavy in your hearts. He had told you of his history and past. You didn't remember what had happened, but believed him when he told you, feeling that the two of you were connected, the bond proving it. 

“I can't say that's not entirely true, and I don't remember what happened, but I don't think you can blame just yourself. You still tried everything in your power to save your people. You fell in love. You were young. No one can blame you for that. I know my situation is completely different, but I miss home sometimes too. It's hard. I can't even imagine how much harder it is when your home literally no longer exists,” you told him. He nodded. “Do you regret what you did?” You suddenly asked. 

“Not at all. I'd choose you every time,” he stated. 

“Then you shouldn't take the full blame for what happened. You tried. You really did.” 

Silence fell over the two of you as you watched the waves. You held him in your arms as he sat silently, a few tears falling every now and then. “Is there anything I can do to make your home here feel more like home? I can try to cook a dish from Lemuria or decorate your house,” you offered.

“You feel like home. Just you being here helps,” he admitted. I nodded. 

“Then I'll be sure to come over more often. And if you find yourself missing home, tell me and I'll come. How about we head back and cuddle up? Watch a movie or something?” You offered, knowing snuggling was his ultimate weakness as well as comfort. He nodded in agreement. You stood first, offering your hand to him. He frowned, looking up at you. 

“Those are your favorite pants, why did you come sit here?” He asked. You shrugged. 

“Cause you're more important to me.” 

“More important than that stupid bird plushie?” His eyes narrowed. You smiled at him. He held such a grudge towards the plush, as you chose one time to have it in your arms while you slept. “Even more than the plushie,” you smiled. He nodded, smiling and grabbed your hand standing up. He pulled you into his chest, hugging you. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. 

“Of course. Let's get going.” 

Hand in hand, you all walked back to his place. Once there, you both changed into dry clothes before ordering some food and picking a movie to watch. You had fallen asleep in his arms, too comfortable to not fall asleep. He smiled down at you, thankful that his bride had returned to him. Thankful that he still had part of his home. 

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Sylus

You waltzed into Sylus's office, excited to tell him about your promotion at work. But as soon as you entered, you froze mid sentence, looking at the sight before you. Your boyfriend, Sylus, sitting behind his desk, holding his head in-between his hands. When he looked up at you, his eyes were red, a few tears streaming down his face. He immediately looked away, praying you hadn't noticed. “Sy, are you,” you paused, stunned. “Crying?” 

“No,” he spoke, voice hoarse. You carefully walked over to him, as if afraid to scare him by moving too suddenly. He was lying of course, tears evident on his face. Moving behind the desk with him, you awkwardly hugged him, lightly pushing his face into your chest as your arms wrapped around him. 

“You know, you always tell me it's okay to cry and it doesn't make me any less strong, don't you know it's the same for you? It's okay to cry. Even when you're the big bad boss of Onychinus,” you whispered. He nodded, biting back tears. You stayed as you were, allowing whatever happened to happen. He was unsuccessful in holding back his tears, crying softly into your chest. It was still a shock to you. Sylus was the definition of someone who presented as if nothing could make him cry. It didn't bother you at all, it was just a surprise. Your concern though, was what had happened to make him cry. But you could ask later, and you did, when his tears stopped and he wriggled out of your grasp to grab a tissue. You watched him carefully, observing him. His nose and eyes red, expression downcast. It was unfamiliar to you. You had never seen or heard of him crying. “Wanna talk about it?” You asked. He licked his lips, unsure. 

“If you don't mind,” he finally decided. 

“Not at all,” you answered, moving to sit on his desk in front of him. He smiled softly up at you before taking a deep breath. 

“Some dickhead went on a rampage in the N-109 zone. Slaughtered hundreds of men, women and children for fun,” he spat. “About a year ago, I ran into a child walking around on the street. She had lost her parents and I surprised everyone by supporting her. I found a place for her to live, I visited often to make sure she was doing okay and being taken care of. She was on her way here when she was killed in front of my eyes. I couldn't do anything to save her,” he finished, looking down and biting his lip. You were stunned at the news and furious that something so horrible had happened. 

“Do you need me to go kill this guy? Because I will,” you offered. He chuckled at that. 

“He's been taken care of. Got what he asked for, I made sure of that,” he informed me. You nodded. 

“So it's the loss of this girl?” you carefully asked. He nodded. 

“It's weird and even surprised me, but she kinda felt like a daughter,” he admitted. Not knowing what else to do, you stood up and hugged him. 

“I'm sorry that happened. Truly,” you told him. He gave a slight nod and hugged you back, pulling you in closer. 

“I should have gotten there faster. I didn't know she was there. If I was quicker she could have lived,” he whispered. 

“You don't know that for sure. You didn't know she was there. There was no way to even know she was there. You did all you could, don't blame yourself. It's not your fault,” you soothed. 

“It feels like it is,” he admitted. 

“I know. But you weren't the one to take her life, you did all you could. It may be a bit too soon to think about, but do you want to hold a service for her? You said she lost her parents, so there's not really anyone to do a service,” you offered. 

“That'd be nice. Luke and Kieran have her,” he informed me, words getting softer as the reality continued to hit him. You nodded and moved to place your hands on his cheeks, guiding his lips to yours and pressing a quick kiss to them. “I'll plan it, just tell me what she liked,” you smiled softly at him. He smiled back, sadly. 

“Okay. Use my card for it all. She deserves the best service we can get.” 

“And the best she will. Wanna go get cleaned up?” You asked, he nodded and you guided him to his bathroom, showering with him both literally and with love. Making sure to scrub off any remnants of his fight and loss. You could tell he was still processing it all, upset but not fully grasping the situation. Once clean, you forced him to eat some food before getting into bed with him. Usually, he'd hold you, but today was different. He half laid down on you, head resting on your chest as he listened to your heartbeat. A few tears fell every so often, but he no longer tried to hide them, the grief hitting him. You stayed with him, whispering words of comfort to him, rubbing his back. 

It wouldn't be easy, but with you by his side, Sylus would hold the perfect service for the little girl and process his grief, thankful he had you by his side throughout the whole thing- whether he was strong or weak. 

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Xavier 

When you woke up you were immediately confused, the unfamiliar sterile white ceiling staring back at you. You tried to move, but nothing happened. So you took in the surrounding sounds. The steady beep of a monitor, the sound of a distant fan and talking. You figured you must be in a hospital. It was then that you heard a sniffle, making you blink. You couldn't remember what happened. Who was here with you? Were they crying? Your eyes finally moved, glancing to the side and finding your boyfriend, Xavier. His eyes were red and puffy as he cried. He still had blood from wanderers splattered on his uniform. He looked like he had been through hell and back…maybe he had. “Xav,” you managed to croak out. His eyes widened as he saw you were awake. 

“You're awake. How do you feel? Does it hurt anywhere? I'll get the nurse,” he rambled, standing up. 

“What happened?” You asked, ignoring his questions. He froze in place and returned to your bedside, gently grabbing one of your hands. His hands trembled slightly, making you grow more concerned. 

“I-im sorry. I couldn't get there in time, I was trying to warn you, but I failed and you were hit. Bad. I thought I was going to lose you and it was all my fault. All because I couldn't get to you in time. I'm so sorry,” he spoke, tears falling once again. You managed to shake your head. 

“It's okay Xavie. I know you tried. You did everything you could, I'm sure of it. I'm okay now. You're not gonna lose me,” you comforted him. You wanted nothing more than to reach out to him, to hold him and comfort him while he cried. So you tried, gasping in pain when you tried to move. 

“Don't move yet, you'll make it worse,” he scolded you immediately. 

“I wanna hold you,” you admitted. He frowned slightly before getting up and laying in the hospital bed next to you, his arms carefully wrapping around you so he wouldn't cause any further pain. “Are you okay?” You asked him. 

“I don't know,” he answered honestly. “I don't know what I would have done if I lost you.” 

“You'd move on and live your life of course,” you told him. 

“No,” he firmly stated. “I can't live my life without you. I promise I'll be faster next time.” 

“There's no need to beat yourself up about this Xavie. Part of our job is risking our lives. It was an accident. It'd take a lot more to end me.” 

“Promise?” 

“I promise. I'm not leaving you any time soon, okay?” He nodded and hid his face in your neck. You managed to gain enough strength to lift your hand and rub his back, comforting him. 

The nurse came in and he refused to move, which the nurse eventually accepted, mostly because you said you were fine for now. She asked a few questions and took the vitals she could manage to get without Xavier in the way, before leaving and informing you she'd be back later. When she left you placed your hands on Xavier's face, guiding him to look at you. You wiped away a few more tears with your thumb. “I've never seen you cry so much,” you admitted. 

“Only because it's you,” he whispered, nuzzling into your hand. You hummed in acknowledgement. “We should get some hot pot when I'm released to cheer you up,” you mused. 

“If it's what you want,” he agreed, making you pout at him. 

“What I want is for you to cheer up. Of course it's okay to cry, but that doesn't mean I like seeing you cry. I want you to always be happy.” 

“Then don't ever leave me,” he said seriously. 

“I don't plan on it,” you smiled at him before softly kissing his lips. 

“Good. Now get some more rest so you can heal up and come home,” he instructed. You nodded, moving your arms to snuggle closer to him, allowing his warmth to lull you to sleep. 

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Zayne 

“Guess who's favorite patient is here?! Oh shit,” you suddenly stopped, still holding the door to Zayne's office, freezing in place. His head was in his hands, glasses thrown onto his desk, his hair messy. What really threw you off though, was when he looked up, fresh tears falling down his face. You hadn't seen him cry since you were children, crying over scrapes from concrete. He quickly wiped them away, unsure what to say. You were the same, still frozen in place. Once your brain decided to process that your boyfriend was crying, you hesitantly closed the door behind you and walked over to his desk. He watched uncomfortably. You weren't meant to see him in this state. Hell, he rarely was in a state like this, no one but him should see. “I- you- are,” you attempted to formulate a question, sighing when nothing that made sense came out. “Are you okay? What happened?” You finally asked. Your heart clenched at his reaction, his face welling up in pain before a sob left his throat. Concerned, you quickly made your way around his desk, pulling him into a hug. He buried his face in your stomach, gripping onto you tightly. You had no words, still stunned by the sight, hands instinctively rubbing his back. 

You stayed like that until your back grew sore from the position, Zayne's tears stopping. He broke the hug and leaned back into his chair, apologizing. “I'm sorry you had to see me like that.”

“Don't be. Are you okay though?” You asked, knowing something was obviously wrong. He nodded. 

“Yes. I guess I just got a bit overwhelmed. With the wanderer attack I haven't been home in days. I've barely slept or eaten. It's surgery after surgery, but I can't just not perform. That's someone's life. It hasn't been this back and forth in a while,” he explained. You nodded. 

“Is there no one else who can do the surgeries? You need to rest,” you chided him. 

“There wasn't. There is now. Fucking 72 hours later,” he breathed frustratedly. 

“That explains why you hadn't answered my texts,” you mused. “I figured you were busy, but not this busy to where you haven't slept in days.” He nodded. 

“Can we go home?” He asked, looking up at you. You smiled and nodded, bringing a hand to wipe away a stray tear. “I was going to leave after gathering myself, but you've already seen the worst of it.” 

“I'm glad I did in a way. Of course, I hate seeing you like this, but I want to be there for you. Overwhelmed and crying or stoic and loving. I wanna see all of it. Want me to get your things?” You offered. He smiled and shook his head, his hand guiding the hand that was once on his cheek to his lips, pressing a kiss to your hand. 

“I've got it. Thank you my love.” He stood and grabbed his things, packing away whatever he needed. You grabbed his hand and led him out of his office. 

When you got to his home, you immediately instructed him to wash up while you cooked him something. He agreed, not bothering to argue, though a shower was definitely what he wanted at that moment. Before cooking though, you quickly slipped out, walking down the road to his favorite dessert spot and getting some sweets for him. The woman at the counter recognized you and immediately got together your usual order- filled with your and Zayne's favorites. 

When you got back to his place you snuck back in, glancing to make sure he was still out of sight. Thankfully he was, opting to take a much needed long and hot shower. After placing the bag of sweets on the counter, you got to work. Zayne left the shower some time later, announcing his presence by hugging you from behind while you cooked, the scent of his body wash filling your nostrils. “Feel better?” You asked. He hummed in agreement. “Sleepy?” You chuckled. He made a noise of agreement, muffled as he hid his face in your shoulder, taking in your scent. He was relieved to finally be home. “I got you something,” you smiled down at the food you were making. 

“You did? When?” He asked. You nodded to the bag on the counter. 

“While you were in the shower. Thought you could use some sweets.” 

“That's an understatement,” he chuckled. When the food was done, the two of you ate, you doing most of the talking as Zayne was tired. He was happy to listen though. He could listen to you talk about your day for hours. You could be reading a dictionary and he'd happily listen to every word. After eating, you did the dishes, slapping Zayne's hand away when he tried to help, instructing him to head to bed first. With a kiss pressed to your cheek, he listened. 

Once done with dishes and getting yourself ready for bed, you joined Zayne, easily snuggling up next to him. He was half asleep, but still managed to thank you. “Thank you for this. You always know exactly what I need. All I wanted was to come home to you and sleep,” he admitted. 

“I would agree, though my days haven't been quite as intense. I'm happy to take care of you. I'll ask off tomorrow so we can spend all day in bed,” you offered. 

“You don't need to do that,” he insisted. 

“Too late,” you smiled. “Get some rest, I love you Zayne.” 

“Sleep well my love,” he mumbled out, falling asleep now that he has said everything he wanted to. 

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Caleb 

You wanted to surprise Caleb. He was going to be in town and you hadn't seen him in a while. So instead of meeting him at your place, you decided to show up at his work. You were able to get through security pretty easily, as Caleb had brought you a few times when you visited. You excitedly knocked at his office door before opening it and stepping in. “Surprise!” You called out, a smile immediately turning into a frown when you saw him holding his arm, wincing as tears fell. You ran over to him, gently holding his mechanical arm and looking it over. “Caleb, are you okay? Where does it hurt?” You asked him. 

“It's nothing,” he answered, stopping his tears. It was the same as when they were kids. 

“How many times do I have to tell you it's not nothing if you're crying? That it's okay to cry in front of me?” You scolded him. “Now tell me where it hurts.” 

“I know. But I'm supposed to be there for you, not the other way around. I don't need to be taken care of,” he argued. 

“Everyone needs to be taken care of sometimes. That's how a relationship works. You're there for me and now I'm here for you, so stop hiding,” you sighed. He looked down, avoiding your gaze. 

“It just got an upgrade. They usually hurt, but not this bad,” he softly explained. 

“Do you think there was a malfunction? Should I notify your doctor?” You asked. He shrugged. 

“I'm fine,” he got out, just before wincing again, his hand going to grab his shoulder. You frowned and picked up the phone on his desk, calling for the doctor. 

“Let me take care of you for once,” you told him after putting the phone down, hand reaching to wipe away a few tears that he failed to hold back. “Losing an arm is reason enough to cry anyway. You don't have to pretend it doesn't hurt for me. I don't want you to do that at all.” He nodded, listening to your words. You wrapped your arms around him in a hug, patting his hair until there was a knock at the door. You moved to open the door, letting in two men dressed in lab coats. Caleb explained what was happening and the two worked together to take his vitals and work on his mechanical arm. You brought a chair next to Caleb, holding his hand as they worked. He tried his best to make it seem painless, but failed, wincing every now and then. After some time, the men left. “Better?” You asked him, rubbing his arm. He nodded. 

“Yeah, sorry you had to see that,” he apologized. 

“Apologize again and I'm leaving you. You were this bad when we were kids, how have you not changed at all? I cried all the time in front of you and still do and you don't think I'm weak, right?” You asked. 

“Of course not. You're the strongest hunter I know,” he scoffed. 

“Then why do you think crying is going to make you weak? You're still the strongest commander I know. Getting used to a mechanical arm can't be easy, not to mention, it's newer tech. There's going to be errors.” 

“Yeah I guess,” he half heartedly agreed. You sighed, knowing there wasn't really a way to convince him. You decided on cheering him up the same way you did as when you were kids, knocking the hat off his head and throwing it across the room. “Wha-” he began laughing. You shrugged at him. 

“Only way I know to cheer you up. Should I continue?” You threatened with a grin. He shrugged and you pounced, immediately your fingers finding the ticklish spot on his sides, attacking him. He bursted into laughter, attempting to push you away from him. Unfortunately for him, you were much stronger now than when you were kids. It wasn't until you felt the effects of his evol pushing you away, you were forced to stop. “That's cheating!” You yelled at him. 

“I'm doing what has to be done. There are other ways to cheer me up now, pipsqueak,” he grinned, standing from his chair. His hand found your cheek, caressing it as he grinned at you. “Like this,” he whispered before leaning in and kissing your lips. 

“Such a cheater,” you muttered, face flushed. He laughed and you felt the effects of his evol wear off. He wrapped his arms around you into a hug. 

“Thank you though. For being there and not telling me I'm a wimp for crying over a little pain,” he whispered into your ear. You punched his chest lightly, pulling back to look at him.

“A little bit of pain seems like an understatement, but I won't argue further. You're welcome though.” 

“Promise not to tell anyone about seeing me cry? I've threatened both of my doctors,” he admitted. 

“So you crying and being in pain happens often?!” You exclaimed. 

“I wouldn't say often-” 

“Why didn't you tell me? I would have made sure to come to all the appointments I could have,” you interrupted, disappointed in him a bit. 

“I'm sorry. I was stupid and truly believed you'd think I was a baby, still kinda worried about that if I'm honest,” he admitted. You crossed your arms on your chest. 

“I don't think that. Never will. You've always been way stronger than me. Promise you'll start telling me when you have appointments?” You asked. He nodded. 

“As long as you promise not to tell people I cry,” he agreed. 

“Deal. Now can we go spend the weekend together? A new arcade opened up down the road from my apartment.” Caleb smiled at you before grabbing his coat (and the hat that was thrown across the room). He took your hand and led you out of his office, ready to spend time with his favorite person.

At first, I just wanted to make a silly eepy kitty Xavi drink milk, and before I knew it, I had already made all of this

Headcanon -

Barista Caleb takes your order

Details: dokidoki fluffy coffee caleb, maybe he adds apple juice and a squeeze of lemon? 700ish words.

“Morning,” he says, a slow, easy grin tugging at his lips as he leans against the counter. His voice is smooth, low, but carries just enough amusement to make you feel like he’s been waiting all morning for someone interesting to talk to. “First time here?”

You blink, thrown for a second, before shaking your head. “Uh—no, I’ve been here before. Just… not with you taking my order.”

“Ah,” he hums, like this is important information. “Well, in that case, I’ll have to make sure your experience today is exceptional. What can I get for you?”

It’s almost unfair, how casual he is about it. You manage to give him your order, your voice steadier than you expect, but the moment he nods and writes your name on the cup, you realize you might be in trouble.

Because he is breathtaking.

Not just in a pretty-boy, “oh, he’s attractive” kind of way. No, it’s the way he moves—fluid, self-assured, a quiet kind of charisma that doesn’t demand attention but holds it anyway. His apron is tied perfectly at his waist, snug but comfortable, emphasizing his lean build. He works with an effortless grace, hands moving with quick, precise motions as he sets up your drink like he’s been doing it all his life.

And then there’s the new barista.

You notice them standing beside him, apron still a little too crisp, movements stiff with nerves. He notices too.

“Hey, you good?” he asks, his tone light, but genuinely concerned.

The newbie nods, but hesitantly. He watches them for half a second, then gestures toward your order.

“Wanna make this one?”

They freeze. “Uh—me?”

“Yeah, you,” he grins, nodding toward the espresso machine. “C’mon, it’s just one drink. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“…I mess it up?”

“That’s the spirit,” he teases, nudging them lightly with his elbow. “But seriously, don’t worry. I’ll walk you through it.”

You watch as the newbie hesitantly steps up, hands fumbling with the portafilter. He lets them struggle for a second before stepping in behind them, close enough that his voice drops slightly, quiet and patient.

“Here, let me help.”

And then he does something devastating.

He reaches out, his hands brushing over theirs as he adjusts their grip, fingers steady and sure. “You wanna lock it in like this. Feel that little click? That means it’s in place.”

The newbie nods, but their breath catches slightly, and—yeah, okay, you can’t blame them. He is warm, too close, and entirely too unaware of how unfair it is to exist like this.

“Good,” he says, pulling back just enough to give them space. “Now, hit that button—yeah, that one. You got it.”

You swear you see the newbie swallow hard, cheeks dusted pink. He doesn’t comment on it—maybe he’s too focused on the drink, or maybe he’s just used to this.

Because you are feeling the exact same thing.

The drink comes together eventually, and the newbie looks both relieved and still slightly dazed. He claps them on the shoulder, offering a quick, reassuring grin.

“See? Not so bad,” he says. “Next time, I’m letting you handle it without the assist.”

They make a sound that’s somewhere between a laugh and a nervous gulp.

And then, finally, he turns back to you.

He picks up your cup, spinning it slightly between his fingers before sliding it across the counter toward you.

“Here you go,” he says, his voice just a little softer now, a little more directed at you. “Hope you like it.” And then, after a pause, his smirk deepens.

“If not… guess you’ll just have to come back so I can make it up to you.”

Your fingers tighten around the cup, heat creeping up your neck. Your brain offers you several possible responses—flirty, cool, clever—and you say none of them.

Because all you can think about is how easy it would be to just ask. His number. His shift schedule. Anything that would let you turn this brief interaction into something more.

But the words sit heavy on your tongue, unspoken.

You just nod. And walk away.

And as you take your first sip, the new barista catches your gaze, their expression a perfect mirror of yours—slightly dazed, a little overwhelmed, and absolutely thinking the same thing.

This isn’t just a barista.

This is a problem.

And then you glance at the counter one last time, at the name tag pinned neatly to his apron.

Caleb.

—————————————————————————-

There’s more barista Caleb! Check my masterlist 🫶🏻

Benediction -a drabble

❤︎  tags and content: public sex, wall sex, f!reader x xavier ❤︎  author note: check out all my fics by searching #moongirlcleo or on AO3

🔞NSFW content - Minors DNI 🔞 Dividers: @/cafekitsune Fic: @moongirlcleo  

The alley was narrow, carved between two flickering holo-ad boards and draped in the perpetual dusk of N109’s underbelly. Neon spilled like spilled ink across the puddles at your feet, reflections rippling with every breath you took—each one more shallow than the last. You weren’t sure how you ended up here, only that Xavier had found you first.

Not Xavier, not now. Lumiere.

His mask gleamed faintly under the weak light, a curve of silver and glass that obscured half his face but did nothing to dim the intensity of his presence. He stood too close, his gloved hand braced against the wall near your head, caging you in with nothing but heat and proximity. Your back pressed into the cold concrete, chest heaving, every nerve singing in anticipation.

“Someone could see,” you whispered, the words caught somewhere between protest and plea.

Xavier tilted his head, the visor casting soft light across your flushed skin. “Then don’t be loud.”

You swallowed, throat dry.

His other hand found your waist, slow and deliberate, fingers trailing the curve of your side like he had all the time in the world. Beneath the leather, his grip was commanding—not rough, but possessive in a way that made your knees ache to bend. You hated how easy it was to melt under his touch. No, not hate. Craved.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, voice low and unreadable.

“You’re… really close,” you managed, eyes darting to the mouth barely visible beneath his mask.

“You asked me to come,” he reminded you, and there was no cruelty in it—just the truth, heavy and quiet.

And you had. An encrypted message, a traceable risk. You’d said you needed to see him. You hadn’t said why, only that it couldn’t wait. And now, here he was, with the patience of a ghost and the intent of a man unraveling.

His hand slipped under your coat, dragging up the hem of your shirt, fingertips ghosting over bare skin. “You’re warm here,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“Xavier…”

“Say it again.”

His voice wasn’t harsh. It was reverent. Like the syllables of your name in his mouth were prayer and profane all at once.

“Xavier,” you gasped as his hand dipped lower, beneath the waistband of your pants, the drag of leather exchanged for the glide of skin.

His mouth hovered over your ear. “You’re soaked.”

Mortified, you tried to shift, to press your thighs together, but he had you pinned and pliant with only one hand. Your face burned, and Xavier didn’t miss it.

“Do you know what you do to me?” he asked, his lips brushing your cheek, your jaw, your throat.

Your voice was barely a whisper. “Tell me.”

He groaned, the sound guttural and grounding, then he found you with his fingers—slow and certain. You moaned, soft and broken, head tilting back against the wall.

“That,” he said. “Right there.”

Your hips bucked into his hand, the friction perfect and terrible. Your breath hitched, your nails scrabbling at the fabric of his coat, desperate to anchor yourself to something as his fingers worked you open with devastating patience.

“Xavier—”

“You’ll take me here,” he said, voice iron beneath silk. “Say yes.”

You didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

His breath caught, and for a heartbeat, he stilled—then his hand was gone, and you almost cried at the loss.

But then he was freeing himself, and your thighs spread to accommodate the press of his body against yours, his heat, his weight, the impossible stretch as he sheathed himself inside you in one, controlled thrust. You bit your lip hard enough to bruise, eyes wide, back arching off the wall.

“Shh,” he murmured, though he didn’t sound calm anymore. “You have to be quiet.”

He started to move, a pace slow and deep, deliberate, grinding his hips just right—making sure you felt every inch, every drag and pull. He watched your face with open fascination, even behind the mask. You knew his eyes were on you, memorizing every gasp, every flutter of your lashes.

Your head fell forward, forehead pressing against his shoulder. He was still in his coat, you realized distantly. Still half-armored like a soldier in the middle of war. And still, he held you like you were something precious, ruined and holy all at once.

“Please,” you whispered, though you didn’t know what for.

“I know,” he said, and then he shifted the angle, lifting one of your legs to wrap around his waist, and you broke.

The orgasm hit like starlight, like falling into gravity and being caught, your body shaking, breath escaping in silent sobs as he drove into you with a low, reverent groan.

He followed seconds later, with your name on his lips like benediction.

You stayed there, bodies pressed close, the alley quiet save for your ragged breaths.

Then Xavier slowly withdrew, fixing your clothes with gentle hands, fingers lingering like he didn’t want to let go. He tugged your coat closed, brushing your cheek with the backs of his fingers.

“Still warm here,” he murmured.

You nodded, dazed. “Thanks to you.”

His mouth curled faintly.

Then, just before he disappeared into the shadows again, he whispered, “Call me next time. I’ll come faster.”

Can you...

Read 📖⬅⬅

...give me one last kiss?

🎵 One Last Kiss - Utada Hikaru 🎵

===

Just in time before Dec 7... another song lyric inspired piece இ௰இ I can't tell if my heart is ready or not

THE LOVE OF A WRITER

Xavier x Writer!Reader

A/N: This is the first time I ever write on Tumblr, and also the first time I wrote something in 2nd person about LADS. English is not my first language, so I'd appreciate any type of feedback to improve my writing c: thank you for reading!

Summary: Xavier is coming to your apartment to watch a movie. While waiting for you in the living room, he finds a notebook that ignites a flame at the idea that someone else had stolen your heart.

Tags: Pre-relationship, fluff, some angst (just a little), sfw, jealous Xavier, conflicted feelings.

Words: 2,6k

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

You had invited Xavier to come over to watch a movie, taking advantage of his day off. It was a regular activity you'd adopted since you'd become close after so much time being neighbors and coworkers. While you were in charge of cooking —since you didn't fully trust Xavier's cooking skills—, he was in charge of buying drinks and some snacks for the movie.

While you were waiting for Xavier to arrive, you decided to take a quick shower. You made sure to send him a text letting him know he could come in freely to get comfortable until you were done.

Xavier always made sure to bring your favorite snack or dessert as compensation for you always cooking something delicious for him. He usually didn't pay too much attention to what he ate, too busy hunting Wanderers and sleeping, only eating instant noodles and simple dishes that Xavier managed to cook without making a mess, or just go to a hot pot restaurant if he didn't feel like settling for his poor cooking. Every time you invited him over to eat was like a gift to him.

He entered your apartment silently, one of his hands carrying a bag with snacks and drinks to share with you during the movie. The other was holding his phone, still with your chat on the screen. Knowing that you were busy taking a shower, he walked to your living room and settled on the couch to wait for you.

He wasn't a nosy person, he respected your privacy a lot even when sometimes he was dying to know what was going on in your mind. So, whatever kind of secret you had, he would respect it because he knew you would tell him when you felt comfortable enough.

When he saw the open notebook on the table next to the sofa, he couldn't help but feel curious. He didn't think it was something private considering it was open, it's content revealed to anyone to see.

He picked it up with curiosity and looked at it carefully. It was a scruffy, plain notebook, nothing flashy. Xavier remembered having seen that notebook in the past: In a cafeteria where you two had agreed to go, you were absentmindedly writing in that notebook, oblivious to Xavier's gaze, and when he reached your side, you smiled at him and closed the notebook immediately. Or when he saw you by chance in a plaza, you were eating some donuts while your eyes focused on the notebook and your hand moved non-stop. That time Xavier didn't make you stop writing, it was you who stopped writing, putting away the notebook and grabbing your things before looking up and encountering his gaze.

It was inevitable that he felt curious about the content. What was it that had you so focused on writing? He thought he might come across lists, date reminders, or things like that. Maybe even some drawing. But what he found were pages full of text, some scratches and corrections here and there. Your handwriting varied in shape and size, sometimes clear and neat, other times sloppy, abrupt, and confusing.

Despite how overwhelming the interior looked, Xavier tried to read the first line of a paragraph.

«He is kind, gentle, and chivalrous. He easily attracts attention even when he doesn't mean to. People couldn't help but gravitate toward him like moths to a flame. Akira was simply exceptional».

Nothing in that paragraph had caught his attention until he read what followed.

«Maybe that's why I liked him so much».

He stared at the text, reading that last line over and over again. It was as if he couldn't quite comprehend what he was reading, as if the words didn't quite make sense. When he was finally convinced that what he was reading was not a product of his imagination, he began to read a few more lines.

«I liked to take advantage of any situation to be by his side. He was dense enough not to notice my intentions.»

«One of my favorite places is the beach when it's about to rain. I realized that's the exact color of her eyes. Other times they were the color of the starry night sky.»

«...and his lips were the most tempting thing the universe could have created.»

Many things went through Xavier's head too quickly, thoughts that merged together and were too confusing to say out loud. Only one thing stood out from all his mental chaos.

Who is Akira?

His mind tried to recall all the workers he remembered from the Association. He tried to remember if he had ever read Akira's name anywhere or heard it in conversation. After failing at that, he tried to remember if any neighbors in the building had that name, maybe someone he hadn't met but you had. The more he searched, the less he found.

By the time you got out of the shower and walked back into the living room, dressed and arranged comfortably, Xavier had a thoughtful expression, the closed notebook on the table next to the sofa.

“Hey,” you greeted him with a smile and approached the small table to see the contents of the bag he had brought. “As expected of you, you brought my favorite.”

You called him to come to the dining room, since you had left the food ready for when he arrived.

He didn't move.

“Xavier?” You called.

It took him a moment to snap out of his thoughtful state.

“Oh. Coming.”

You ate and talked peacefully, you asked him questions from time to time and he answered gently and kindly. Still, it was inevitable to feel that his responses were more careful than usual.

Once you settled in to watch the movie, Xavier took on a serious expression that was out of place considering the movie was mostly a comedy. Still, you didn't question it, you knew Xavier was sometimes strange in his own way, so you didn't think anything of it.

After a few minutes of the film, Xavier was unable to hold it any longer. Although the way he started the conversation wasn't... subtle.

“Do you like someone?”

You turned to look at him instantly, unable to believe that he had actually asked something like that out of the blue.

“What?”

For some reason, that answer irritated him. He wanted to ask you so many things. Ask you about that "Akira" you mentioned so often in your notebook, ask you if you truly meant everything you said in those pages. Ask you if it were true, what you thought of him. Did you see him as just a friend? Coworker? Neighbor?

Suddenly he realized how easy it was to lose you over something as mundane as you falling in love with someone other than him. It was like a punch in the stomach when he realized he might have already lost you.

For a second, he had a flashback to a conversation in the past, who knows how many years ago.

You saying that maybe you had fallen in love with someone, him replying that it was a good thing. You asking if he wasn't curious to know who it was, and him having to take a moment to say that it didn't matter, that he was happy for you.

Too guilty for not being honest with you.

Too jealous to accept that someone else had your heart.

“Do you like someone?” He asked again, unable to continue thinking about how unpleasant the feeling of deja vu was.

“Where does that question come from?” You laughed and he felt more irritation and his stomach turn over.

Was that a yes?

“Lately I've noticed certain things,” he lied. He was good at lying, he had been doing it for a long time. He was especially good at lying to you, unfortunately. “You smile more, your eyes sparkle... and we watch more romantic movies than usual.”

He said the last thing while pointing at the television with his chin. The main couple was in the middle of a romantic scene, looking at each other affectionately and sharing smiles.

“Oh,” you said. “I hadn't realized that.”

Again, an answer he didn't like.

“So? Is that a yes?” He settled back on the couch, turning his body to look directly at you. “Who’s the lucky one?”

You laughed again, leaning over the living room table to reach for a snack. Xavier pressed his lips together.

You weren't taking him seriously.

“I have no idea how you came to that conclusion, but I assure you there is no one.” You smiled at him sincerely. “It’s all just a coincidence.”

Lie.

The fact that you didn't want to tell him directly was another blow to the gut. You didn't trust him? You didn't want him to know? Why?

There was a silence in which only the movie could be heard. Xavier was no longer listening and you only paid half attention to it. Then he spoke again.

“Who is Akira?”

When those words left his mouth, he immediately regretted saying them because he knew he had sounded desperate.

Until he saw the change in your expression. You didn't laugh. Your smile froze and there was something in your eyes that confirmed he had asked the right thing.

He saw alarm.

“Who?” You asked, but instead of genuine confusion, he heard caution.

You knew who he was talking about.

“Akira.” He responded softly, his eyes focused on you, looking for more information with any change in your expression.

“Where did you hear that name?”

Faced with that question, Xavier had the decency to look away and look embarrassed. What was he supposed to tell you? That he'd snooped through your notebook without your permission while you weren't looking? What would that say about him? That would only prove you right that he was not trustworthy.

He couldn't bear the thought of breaking your trust. Not again.

Your gaze quickly searched for the table next to the sofa that was behind Xavier. It was closed, but you couldn't help but press your lips together, tense that it was within his reach.

As Xavier looked away, you stood up from the couch and leaned towards him. He immediately turned his gaze to you, eyes wide open as he watched you come closer. However, when he saw you step back with the notebook in your hand, he looked away.

“Xavier...” You kept your gaze on your notebook, your hands gripping it tightly. After a moment, you looked up at him, tense. “Did you read my notebook?”

Xavier swallowed before looking at you.

“It... wasn’t my intention.” He told you with sincerity and heaviness.

Again you two fell silent. The film had been completely forgotten by both of you. You looked at Xavier like you didn't believe he was real and he looked at you like you were about to break his heart.

Then, against all odds, you laughed.

“My god,” you gasped, staring at the ceiling in disbelief. “How embarrassing.”

That wasn't the reaction he was expecting. He looked at you in confusion as you shook your head and looked back at him.

“It’s not what you think,” you said confidently. “I don’t like any Akira.”

It took Xavier a moment to respond.

“I read—”

“Yeah, I know.” You laughed again, this time rubbing your face with one hand. When you pulled away and Xavier could see your face again, he saw the slight blush on your cheeks. “But what you read isn't my secret diary or anything like that. It’s my writing notebook.”

Xavier remained silent, processing your answer. He went over your words again and again until he finally registered their weight.

“Writing notebook?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “A notebook where I write down spontaneous ideas I have to write stories or longer projects in the future.”

Xavier continued to look at you intently as you opened the notebook to the first pages.

“Here’s my character index,” you explained as you carefully showed him the pages. “Akira is one of them. One of the main ones, in fact.” You flipped more pages to the middle and showed him more messy text. “These are ideas that come to me out of nowhere. Sometimes they're full scenes, other times they're thoughts of a specific character.”

You looked up with a small smile.

“What you read were the thoughts of my main character about him at the climax of the story.”

With those words, Xavier breathed again. He let out a shaky sigh and looked away from your face. It was as if an invisible weight had been lifted from his shoulders and he couldn't help but bring his fist to his lips in an attempt to hide his embarrassed expression.

“I thought that—” He said but stopped, thinking that maybe what he said would only embarrass him more.

This time you laughed out loud as Xavier tried to hide his embarrassment by grabbing a snack from the table. He ate without looking at you, incredulous that his apparent rival was a product of your imagination.

“Why were you so curious to know if I liked Akira?” You asked between laughs, still not wanting to drop the subject.

“I just—” He took a moment to answer. “I was curious to know who was the person that you wrote so passionately about.”

“Mmh...”

Entertained to see this side of Xavier, you decided to tease him a little.

“Well, do you wanna know a secret?” You leaned closer to him, voice quiet. “Akira is inspired by a real person.”

That was enough to get his attention. He looked at you again, his eyes fixed on you, attentive, alert, with tension ready to creep into his bones.

“Who?”

“Nope!” You shook your head. “That's a secret!”

You crossed your arms and raised your chin with a definitive gesture, giving drama to your words. Faced with his silence, you couldn't help but glance at him and seeing his expression —as if ready to seek out the one who had inspired such passionate writing—, you smiled at him.

“He is the most trusted and important person in the world to me. I am grateful to the universe for sending me such a wonderful star by my side.”

And your smile —Gods, your smile— was all he needed to realize your words. It felt like a shared secret. Like a confession.

His frown relaxed and he opened his mouth to speak, although at first he was unable to do so.

“Am I...?”

“The movie!” You turned your full attention back to the television, too embarrassed to give him any more information than you had already.

Xavier didn't need anything else to understand, not when he saw the blush on your face and the way you were trying so desperately to distance yourself talking about the movie and interesting facts about it.

He let out a chuckle that made you blush even more and made you think that maybe you had shared much away. However, Xavier simply adjusted himself so that he was sitting closer to you and his pinky finger brushed against yours on the couch.

“I'd love to read more of... your main character's thoughts about ‘Akira’,” he said with a warm and sincere smile.

Xavier definitely wouldn't leave you alone until he had read absolutely everything you had written in your notebook, until you told him how or why you made certain decisions and, especially, why didn't you just use his name instead of Akira's.

“Why did you name him Akira?”

“I didn't want to name him like anyone I knew.”

“You could just use my name, you know. I would prefer that you... your main character thinks all that about me and not a stranger.”

“Stop—”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

A/N: Thank you for reading! I might write more about writer!reader with the other LIs. I'd appreciate any type of ideas for future fics ;>

Xavier is for those who need peace.

⭐ He is for those who need a sanctuary from the cacophony of the outside world; the noise, the crowds, the constant motion -- it is just too much some days. He offers solace from it all in the form of quiet and stillness, no questions asked.

⭐ He is for the homebodies, the ones who feel most comfortable when snuggling on the sofa with snacks and a movie. He has many soft blankets and pillows he can share with you.

⭐ He is for the ones whose minds are always going, going, going -- he soothes the anxieties with gentle whispers and fingers massaging your scalp, maybe even a kiss to the temple.

⭐ He is for the ones who appreciate rest. He is more than happy to join you for naps anytime and anywhere, though he does have a preference for your apartment over his -- he wants to meld into your life as much as possible.

⭐ He is for the ones who are satisfied with the simpler things in life, the ones who don't need anything more than a hug and a squishy plushie to be happy.

⭐ He is for the ones who enjoy their solitude. He is more than happy to give you space when you need -- but, please, let him know when you're ready for his presence again!

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