Sorry I'm Just A Man And Can Only Spare One Set Of Clothes Per Drawing

You Drive Me Insane // Xavier x Reader

God someone put me down please. I need to go touch some grass. Please don’t even perceive me. This is my first time writing smut, so hopefully it’s okay

This is pure smut, no plot in sight. Pure filth. Be warned. Minors DNI! Concept: Sexy times with Xavier Tags: Smut, Plot? What plot?, Oral (F! Receiving), riding, biting, fingering, creampie (wrap it before you tap it), rough sex, praise, fem! Reader Word Count: 1605 Masterlist

His lips lapped at your core like a man starved, like you were his favourite liquor, his last meal. Moans and whimpers escape your lips, your fingers tightening in his already tousled hair as his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, keeping you spread open on his mouth. You feel a groan rumble from his chest at the feeling, resonating against your clit, adding and adding to the pleasure coursing through you. The tight coil in your abdomen wound tighter and tighter, his name leaving your lips like a prayer. His long fingers slid in and out, in and out of you, stretching and caressing as far as they could reach, your juices spilling out with every move, adding to the puddle that has formed under you. Not a single thought echoed through your mind apart from his name, the lustful haze clouding everything else. 

Xavier’s dark gaze caught yours, his pupils blown wide, as if he was drunk off of you, his own eyes distorted with pure want. You could feel yourself clench around him, another wanton moan escaping you. The desire built within you with every skillful swipe of his tongue, with every suck and every thrust of his fingers. His arms pulled you even closer, until he reached the spot that made your eyes roll back and your toes curl.

The heat built, built, built, his unforgiving pace not giving you a chance to catch your breath. It was unbearable, unimaginable to be able to feel this much all at once, and yet here you were, wanting to escape but never wanting this to end at the same time.

Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes as your thighs trembled, trying to close but restrained by his strong grip, a grip that promised to leave bruises.

He kept up the pace, his fingers curling into that spot within you, his tongue licking up all the juices spilled, until your pleasure peaked, that coil snapping with a cry. Your muscles seize up as you throw your head back, bucking your hips against him. 

He didn’t let up, letting your orgasm ride out wave after wave after wave. The obscene sounds from where he was connected to you filled your ears as the overstimulation took hold, and all of a sudden it was too much. Tears trailed across your cheeks, as you fell slack against the bed, the aftershocks making you whimper as he pulled himself away, just far enough to leave a trail of soft kisses against your inner thigh. 

“Good girl. You did so good for me.” Soft praises left his mouth, as he slowly crawled up above you, leaving small kisses wherever he could reach, until his lips met yours, in a slow sensual kiss. His calloused hand cradled your cheek, wiping away the stray tears with his thumb. 

“You okay sweetheart?” Xavier’s voice is soothing, bringing you slowly back to your senses, as you lock eyes with him. 

“Yeah, more than okay.” You breathe, a small smile appearing on your face as he gives you another soft kiss. His eyes are still blown out, still dark with a hunger that’s yet to be satisfied. Against your hip, you can still feel his erection, hard and hot, precum dripping and spreading against your skin. 

You keep your eyes locked with his, a mischievous glint echoing through your gaze, as you reach down, your hand grasping where he needs you most. He gives a sharp hiss, eyes closing at the sensation, before grasping your wrist, stopping your ministrations.

“F-fuck. You sure you want to continue?” The darkness swimming across his eyes should make you nervous, should make you shy away, but instead it pulls you in, makes you want to bring this man to ruin. 

You pull your hand up gently, before pushing him over, switching your positions until he is beneath you. His eyes widen at the sudden movement, his hands landing on your waist, holding you steady as you straddle his lap. 

“It’s my turn to take care of you.” You whisper into his ear, punctuating your statement with a bite to his earlobe. Your fingers run from his cheek, to his neck, to his chest. Lower and lower, the trail of your touch followed with your lips, nips and kisses decorating his pale skin. He’s so sensitive. He’s squirming beneath your touch, fighting the urge to roll you over and take the control back. His breathing quickens, his chest heaving as you switch to small bites across his neck, decorating it with red marks, a reminder of tonight just for him. Your hands trail lower, teasing touches on his thighs, tracing his abs and v-line. So close yet so far.

“Darling, stop with the teasing. Please.” His voice is rough, punched out, teeth gritted together as he tries to maintain even an ounce of composure.

“Shhh, you’re doing so well. I’ll give you what you want soon enough baby.” You bite your lip to hide your grin. God you loved the effect you had on him, the calm attitude crumbling beneath your fingers, red staining his cheeks. The grip on your waist is firm, nearly painfully so, as his eyes scrunch closed. 

Finally, you decided to have some mercy on him, your touch trailing down to his dick. You thumb at the head, precum already coating your hand and the sound that comes out of him is something you’d like to hear for the rest of your life. You need to hear that sound again. You move your hand, twisting and pumping just like you know he likes it, but much slower than he wants. Your thighs protest as you reposition yourself, still trembling, so pleasantly sore. You guide his cock to rub against you as you grind down, covering him with the wetness dripping from your hole, a moan escaping both of you as his head catches your clit. His hands guide you down to grind on him again and again and again. You steady yourself with a hand on his chest, calling his name until his eyes open and land on you. His pupils are blown wide, his silver hair disheveled and redness spread further across his face. He looks divine. What a sight he is, underneath you, looking so fucked out already. 

You bite your lip as you guide him against you, maintaining eye contact as you sink down on his cock. Bit by bit, you take him slowly, a strangled whine leaving both of you.

“Feels so good- so tight.” He sounds breathless as he grinds his hips up into you, bottoming out. 

You have to take a second to breathe, adjusting to his size. You feel so full it’s almost overwhelming. You can feel every vein pulsing deep inside you, the stretch around him adding the sweetest ache to the many sensations coursing through your body. 

A moment passes before you’re rising up until just the tip remains inside you, before grinding back down, setting a brutal pace. His breathing is shallow and rough as his hips snap up, keeping up with the tempo you set, hitting deeper and deeper and deeper inside of you. Hitting that sweet spot that has you faltering your movements for just a second. His grip around your hips guides you along, his eyes falling to your chest as you move one of his hands to your breast. He kneads it desperately as you lean down to spread an array of kisses and bites across his neck. Sweat drips down both of you, adding a deliciously salty taste to your kisses. 

You swipe along his neck, swirling your tongue around his Adam's apple before biting down on it. His hips stagger in response to the sting and you soothe the ache with a soft kiss. The pressure builds within you, your nerve endings feel like they’re on fire with every thrust, with every touch. 

“Gods Xavier, s-so good for me.” The words leave your mouth with a desperate tone as static fills your mind. The sounds leaving him are music to your ears as you swivel your hips, feeling him twitch inside you, delirious kisses being left across your shoulder. 

“‘m close, so close.” His words spur you as you slam your hips down, going even faster. 

“Fill me up Xavier.” You bite his ear as the pressure in your core unravels once more, your muscles spasming as you squeeze around him.

“Fuck I-” He doesn’t finish his sentence as the rhythm between you falters. You feel warmth fill you, painting your insides, dripping beneath you. You ride out your orgasms together, panting, desperately trying to catch your breaths. You lean up, your lips meeting his as you come down from your high together. You pull away just far enough to meet his eyes, gently brushing the hair from his forehead. A gentle smile braces his lips, his hands massaging your aching thighs.

“God, you drive me insane.” His voice is breathless, exhaustion evident on his features.

“Good, I’m doing my job well then.” You give him a soft, teasing grin.

“I love you sweetheart.” 

“I love you too baby. Let’s get cleaned up, yeah?” You exchange a few slow, lazy kisses before you lift yourself off of him with a soft groan. You feel the wetness drip down your thigh as you attempt to stand, but your legs betray you with their shakiness and you have to brace yourself on the bed. You hear a tired chuckle before Xavier stands up beside you, lifting you into his arms before carrying you to the bathroom.

hi long one but this is a very important hc / imagine that me and a friend felt is important to share, this is yet another part of the LADS future children series (i made one about rafayel and having twin lemurian babies you can find it in the masterlist here)

taglist: @feralkuromi (if you wanna be added lmk :D)

Anyway without further ado

Xavier adopting a son with you

Have we ever talked about how alienated and alone Xavier felt in his family? How estranged he is from his father and just doesn't seem to fit in?

Xavier would adopt because he probably wants to give a home to some kid that feels just as alone as he did. He wants to give someone a family, a family he didn't have, and he wants to be a good father. He really just wants to be there for a child that doesn't feel like they belong, or even give a kid a home. Wants to give someone that was like him long ago and chance to feel like they belong, or that they at leave have somewhere they can return to and feel safe in.

He will discuss this with you at length, seeming calm, but super nervous because adoption is a lot and he doesn't know your thoughts on it. If you agree to it, just know he will be extremely happy. This doesn't push the idea of having kids being born off the table by the way, he just... really wants to adopt first.

Xavier will do EXTENSIVE research, by the way, this isn't a spur of the moment thing. He's probably been thinking about this for the longest amount of time, and he wants to make sure he does this parenting thing right, especially with a kid who already had a family and must have gone through so much. Genuinely, he is so thoughtful about everything, he will do research alongside you as well.

Paperwork is fun, but hey, you both get through it and end up getting approved.

You end up being matched with a young boy who's about 11-12. His parents were lost in a Wanderer attack when he was 3, and he has no relatives willing to take him in, so he was sent to a home. He had been in about 2 families before but sent back simply because there just wasn't that 'spark', or it wasn't the right fit, etc...

The boy liked taking care of the younger kids. He would tell them bedtime stories or fairy tales, he'd always reassure them... he got used to being there. So when he got matched with both of you, he was surprised (most people who visited usually went for the younger kids because they were deemed 'less troublesome' and had 'no baggage').

There are a lot of pre-placement visits once matched. The first one is nerve-wracking on both ends.

You end up taking the lead in the beginning, learning about the boy, trying to get him to feel comfortable in your presence (he's a little anxious himself), meanwhile Xavier is just quiet beside you (man is overthinking a lot about what to say or do).

In the end though, you leave the two to their devices for a bit (under excuse of 'going to the bathroom') and they start talking. And they get along well.

The boy wants to be a Deepspace Hunter when he gets older so no more kids end up losing their parents to Wanderers. He's currently practicing how to use a sword in school because he wants to be like the knights in stories he read when he was younger, and he always plays the knight whenever playing pretend with the younger kids.

Xavier explained that he's a Deepspace Hunter, and offers to see the boy's technique. And the two begin bonding almost instantly.

As the end of the visit drew near, the boy asked Xavier a question: "If I was your son and you were my dad, would you take me to eat hotpot?"

And Xavier replied: "I would take you anywhere, regardless of if you wanted me as your dad."

The next visit, at the boy's request, you and Xavier took him out to hotpot. And you found out that the boy also had quite the appetite on him.

He and Xavier are alike in many ways. He fit right into your little family. But of course, the boy is the one who must consent to the adoption.

This is a very slow process of building up trust with the boy, but Xavier is adamant on making it work. He's learning how the boy grew up, the environment he's used to, what his daily routine looks like, and already adjusting the home in order to be more familiar to him.

Xavier is also asking the foster parents on advice almost constantly. He's making such an effort to ensure the boy feels right at home (he really wants to get this right, he doesn't want to fail the boy). Man is scouring forums, reading books, everything.

Then the boy does end up being placed in your home with you and Xavier. Things still need to be legalized and finalized in court of course—right now, it's the moment of seeing how he ends up fairing in the household.

He ends up liking the place well! You and Xavier help decorate his room, there's new games that have been bought, and more snacks and food filling the kitchen. The pantries have more silverware, and now there's three plates at the table instead of the usual two.

You introduce the boy to the garden you and Xavier cultivated, you show him the piano (and even play a bit together)... he's making himself at home, really.

He does express fear that you and Xavier may return him back, that neither of you want to go through with this. Because this was the moment when he was sent back the past few times. But, both of you continue to shower him in love.

Xavier really is a good father-to-be, and you recognize that as he helps the kid study for school, knows when to be kind and slightly stern, is doing his best not to overstep boundaries... reminds you of when he was first navigating his relationship with you, and when you realized what a kind and thoughtful partner he is.

It's when the boy one day calls Xavier "dad" and calls you "mom/dad/[insert gender neutral parental title here]" that both of you break. Up until that point, he'd been calling Xavier "Mr. Shen" and you in a similar fashion". But then he told you he wants to be your son. For real. And you and Xavier could not be happier.

After everything is finalized and he's officially adopted, not much has changed. Because truth is, the boy had become a part of the family, had already been seen as your son the moment Xavier met him.

He will grow up into a fine young man, with both his and your guidance. And I know for a fact he will feel loved and cherished by the both of you.

that night at 3:07 a.m. | xavier

synopsis : Sequel to 3:07 a.m.

content : angst(obviously), non-related to the game events, non-cannon, just purely xavier x reader but in our world :)

writer’s note : part one can be found here. I was inspired to write this peace thanks to the lovely @hiqhkey <3 you were right, the angst potential in this was wew. It took me awhile to piece together how to write this one because I wanted angst but I also wanted closure, I hope you enjoy this one as well :D

You came into his life like turbulence—unexpected, disarming.

And yet, your voice was the calm that followed the storm.

Xavier doesn’t remember how it began.

Maybe it was that first night. 3:07 a.m.

He had meant to call someone else—fingers fumbling, mind clouded, emotions in disarray.

But it was your voice he heard.

Soft. Quiet. A melody that lingered longer than it should have.

He didn’t hang up.

He listened.

And then he called again.

It became routine, though neither of you called it that.

He’d come home from work, shower, lie in bed.

Waiting.

Sleep never came easy for him.

But you did.

At 3:07 a.m., he would dial your number.

And you’d answer, always.

“Hey,” you’d breathe into the line.

His heart would falter, just a beat.

It wasn’t love. Or maybe it was.

He couldn’t name it, but it left him aching.

He wanted to tell you that your voice was beautiful, that it soothed something in him he didn’t know needed soothing.

But he never did.

Instead, he’d ask about your day.

You’d ask about his.

It was your thing—he calls, you answer.

No questions. No promises. Just presence.

But slowly, the lines blurred.

He caught himself thinking about you more. Wanting more.

But the words never came.

He’d see you sometimes—crossing the street, sitting in your favorite café by the window, head bowed in quiet focus.

He never waved.

Never approached.

Because 3:07 a.m. was sacred.

And he was afraid that in the daylight, it might mean something else.

Or nothing at all.

So he waited.

For nighttime.

For your voice.

—•

Then came a night that didn’t sound the same.

You answered, but your voice held sadness.

It rattled him, the heaviness of it.

He wanted to reach through the phone, hold you, take the weight from your shoulders.

But instead, he stayed silent.

You told him about a boy you liked.

His stomach turned.

He should’ve known. He should’ve seen it coming.

It was him. It had to be.

Still, he smiled where you couldn’t see.

And said, “Maybe he’ll come around.”

“Maybe,” you whispered.

If only he’d realized it then.

—•

“Do you think some people are just… meant to belong to each other?” he asked one night.

The question came unannounced. Raw. Honest.

You laughed, soft and almost shy.

But you didn’t answer.

And he didn’t press.

Neither of you ever did.

But that night, he told himself it was time to move on.

If you had felt the same way, you would’ve said something.

Wouldn’t you?

Still, the thought nagged at him, cruel and persistent.

You always picked up.

He opened his mouth. Almost.

But he swallowed it down.

“You still there?” he asked, knowing full well you were.

“Always.”

That word settled in his chest like warmth, and yet it ached.

“I saw a fox tonight,” he murmured. “It ran across the road like it didn’t care if it got hit.”

He didn’t know why he said it.

Maybe to see if you’d understand.

Maybe it was his confession in disguise.

“I thought about stopping,” he added, voice low. “I didn’t.”

Silence stretched between you. His breath hitched.

Then you said, “You never stop.”

His heart clenched.

“Maybe I should.”

It hurt, saying that. Like swallowing glass.

He changed the subject.

Pretended it didn’t mean anything.

And when your voice grew soft with sleep, he noticed—he always did.

“Go to sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he said, ending the call before you could reply.

His heart was racing.

In the dark, he whispered to himself, “Why didn’t I just tell her?”

But the moment had passed.

The weight of everything left unsaid pressed down on him, suffocating and sharp.

He sighed into the stillness of his room.

“Maybe it was never meant to be.”

But oh, it was.

It really, really was.

—•

Eventually, life got busier.

Or maybe he made it that way—chasing distractions just to drown out the ache in his chest.

He didn’t know what it was exactly.

Rejection? An answer he didn’t want?

All he knew was that your silence—your lack of anything—gnawed at him until it became unbearable.

So he filled his days with noise. With work. With anything that wasn’t you.

But the nights stayed quiet.

Too quiet.

When he came home, the stillness in the air was heavier than usual.

He moved through his routine on autopilot, then lay in bed with his eyes shut, pretending he could sleep.

Maybe, he thought, just maybe I won’t call tonight. Maybe she will.

But curiosity clawed its way in.

He peeked.

3:05 a.m.

He watched the seconds crawl.

3:06.

His thumb hovered above your contact.

3:07 a.m.

Before his mind could stop his heart, he called.

Tonight, he told himself. Tonight, I’ll ask her.

“Hey,” your voice came through, soft and steady.

Like you had been waiting. Like always.

“Hey,” he echoed, but the word felt fragile—smaller than he meant it to be.

“Rough night?”

“No. Just… long.”

The silence stretched between you, filled with everything he couldn’t say.

This was it—his window.

If he didn’t say it tonight, he’d let you go.

But then you asked gently, “Wanna talk about it?”

And he hesitated.

Why didn’t he just tell you?

He exhaled a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Not really.”

“Okay.”

His mind swirled—What if she feels the same?

Will I regret this silence tomorrow?

Still, the words stayed lodged in his throat.

Instead, “Tell me something nice… anything.”

Because he wanted to hear your voice again. Wanted to feel close to you, even if you were slipping through his fingers.

And you did.

God, you did.

You told him about the dog you saw with its head out the window, tongue flapping like it owned the world.

You told him about the heart-shaped cloud that vanished before you could take a picture.

You told him about a song that reminded you of him.

His heart faltered at that—but still, nothing.

He only hummed, listening like it might be the last time he’d ever hear you.

“Do you think…” he started, then stopped. His courage faltered mid-sentence.

A pause.

“What?” you prompted, gentle.

His breath caught. “Do you think we’ll still talk like this… a year from now?”

You laughed.

And it shattered him.

Why was that your reaction?

“You’re the one who calls,” you said simply. “I just pick up.”

He fell silent. One beat. Then two.

“Yeah… I guess you do.”

He gathered what was left of himself. “I hope you sleep well tonight.”

There was a pause, quiet but heavy.

“Are you not calling tomorrow?” you asked softly.

His chest ached. That was his moment—his chance to say something real.

But instead, “I don’t know.”

And he ended the call.

Alone in the dark, he whispered, “I need to move on.”

A tear slipped quietly down his cheek.

The next night, he stared at his phone.

Thumb over your name.

Hovering.

He shouldn’t call. He couldn’t.

His heart wasn’t whole enough to risk it again.

So he didn’t.

He shoved his phone beneath his pillow and closed his eyes.

If she wants to talk, he told himself, she’ll call.

But a voice inside him whispered something else—Maybe she’s waiting, too.

Still, he forced himself to sleep.

No more.

—•

Day One.

He woke with a racing heart and reached for his phone.

No missed calls.

No texts.

Nothing.

The absence stung more than he expected.

And there it was—his answer.

You hadn’t called.

He sighed, the weight of regret and hopelessness pressing into his ribs.

That was it.

That was the end.

He got up and started his day, pretending he hadn’t waited.

Pretending it didn’t hurt.

But good god, it did.

Day Three.

He didn’t mean to look.

But at 3:07 a.m., his eyes flicked to the clock anyway.

His chest ached with a hollow kind of yearning, the kind that sits heavy behind the ribs and doesn’t say a word.

He didn’t call.

You didn’t either.

The silence had settled into something familiar now.

It used to be comfort. Now it was absence.

Still, he told himself, This is what moving on looks like. You asked for this.

But it didn’t make the loneliness feel any less real.

Day Five.

He passed your favorite café on his way home.

The table by the window was empty.

Or maybe it wasn’t—you just weren’t in it.

He didn’t stop to look too long.

That night, he didn’t touch his phone.

He left it across the room, face-down.

But at 3:07 a.m., he still turned in bed, waiting for the sound that wouldn’t come.

Week Two.

He met someone new.

She was kind. Confident. The type who smiled with her whole face.

She asked for his number first, and he gave it without hesitation.

Not because he was ready, but because he wanted to be.

They started talking. Messaging.

Late night conversations, but never at 3:07 a.m.

That time belonged to someone else.

Still did.

But he didn’t say that out loud.

Week Six.

He liked her company.

She laughed at his jokes, touched his arm when she smiled, remembered how he took his coffee.

She made things feel easier.

Lighter.

And yet—some nights, when the world had gone still and he was finally alone with his thoughts, he still reached for his phone.

Not to call her.

But to scroll through your old messages.

The short ones. The long ones. The ones where you sent voice notes because texting was too slow.

He missed you.

Quietly. Constantly.

Like background noise he couldn’t tune out.

Month Two.

He was dating her now.

Their photos lived on social media—her head resting on his shoulder, his arm around her waist.

His smile looked real.

People said he looked happy.

And sometimes, he was.

But he never told her why he always seemed a little quiet around 3 a.m.

Why he never answered calls past midnight.

Why his smile never quite reached his eyes when a particular song came on the radio.

Because there were things he had buried—like old postcards you never send but can’t throw away.

He didn’t talk about you.

But sometimes, when he was with her, and the world was soft and kind,

he wondered if you ever stared at your phone too.

If you ever hovered over his name and decided not to press it.

If you ever missed him at 3:07 a.m.

And in that wondering, he realized—He hadn’t moved on.

Not really.

Not fully.

He was just learning how to live with a ghost that still answered the phone.

—•

Month Six.

He proposed.

It was quiet, understated—just the two of them beneath a canopy of lights and the hush of the evening breeze.

She smiled. She cried. She said yes without hesitation.

He kissed her like he meant it.

And he did.

He meant it.

But as the ring slipped onto her finger, something stirred deep in his chest—an ache, dull and persistent.

Not regret.

Not quite.

Just something unsettled.

Something he hadn’t named.

Something left over.

Because even now, even here, part of him wondered if you ever thought about him.

If you’d feel anything at all when you found out.

If you’d feel… nothing.

And maybe that would hurt more.

Later that night, while she slept soundly beside him, his eyes flicked toward the clock.

3:07 a.m.

He didn’t know why he still looked.

Maybe he just always would.

Month Eight.

Healing came slowly.

Not like a breakthrough—just a quiet fading of the noise.

The days stopped feeling like a performance.

The silences became lighter.

He caught himself smiling more. Meant it more, too.

And he started seeing her not as someone who filled a space, but someone who fit.

He still thought of you.

But not always.

Not the way he used to.

There were moments—brief ones—when your name crossed his mind in the middle of a song, or when he passed that café window you used to sit by.

But it didn’t sting as much.

It just… lingered.

Like something that might have been.

Something gentle. Undefined.

A feeling, not a fire.

Still, on some nights, when the world was quiet and he couldn’t sleep, he’d wonder.

Did you ever think of him, too?

Month Ten.

The wedding planning began in earnest.

Color swatches, catering menus, playlist drafts.

She filled journals with ideas, kept Pinterest boards titled forever.

He helped where he could.

Smiled. Showed up.

Even laughed when she made him try three kinds of cake in one sitting.

It was real.

And it was good.

But some nights, when she’d doze off beside him with a notebook still open in her lap, he’d scroll through his contacts until he found your name.

He never pressed it.

He never would.

But part of him still paused there.

Not because he wanted to go back.

But because he still hadn’t figured out if he should tell you.

Not to ask for anything.

Not to confess anything.

Just… to let you know.

“I’m getting married.”

A sentence he rehearsed and never said.

And maybe he was afraid that if he did, you’d say, “I always thought you would call.”

Or worse—That you’d say nothing at all.

So instead, he locked his phone and turned off the lamp beside the bed.

He wasn’t in love with you.

Maybe he never had been.

But there had been something.

And it never quite left.

Almost One Year Later.

3:07 a.m.

The numbers glowed dimly in the dark, like they always did—unchanged, untouched.

He hadn’t planned to call.

He hadn’t even thought about it.

But somehow, he was already staring at your name.

Already pressing call.

The dial tone echoed once.

Twice.

Three times—Then a soft click.

You answered.

There was only breath on the other end.

Faint. Familiar. Present.

His heart stuttered.

“Hey,” he said, voice low. Steady.

Silence.

He swallowed. “I didn’t think you’d answer.”

Still, nothing.

Just you, breathing. Listening.

Maybe frozen in place. Maybe waiting for more.

And he gave it to you.

“I just…” he started, and the words stuck, catching in his throat. He let them fall anyway.

“I’m getting married.”

The quiet thickened. Not even a gasp. No sigh.

Just your silence.

“I wanted to tell you myself.”

There was a pause.

Then, your breath barely above a whisper, “Why now?”

He let the silence stretch before he answered.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I kept thinking about you. About how I never said goodbye.”

Another pause.

Your voice cracked, just slightly. “I would’ve answered.”

His chest tightened.

“I know,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

There was a long silence. Neither of you filled it.

He listened to the stillness like it was the last piece of a song he couldn’t finish.

And then, softly—like it cost you something, “I’m happy for you.”

His heart stuttered.

He hesitated.

There were words at the edge of his tongue—things he might have said if this were a different life.

But instead, all he gave you was, “Goodnight.”

And the call ended.

No goodbye.

Just the quiet click of something finally closing.

—•

The air was still.

Rows of guests sat under soft morning light, flowers swaying gently with the breeze, as music began to hum low and steady.

Xavier stood at the altar, hands clasped tightly in front of him, breath slow.

He wasn’t nervous—at least not in the way everyone expected him to be.

He felt the weight of the moment. The finality. The beauty of it.

And the ache.

Then—like a pull, a presence he couldn’t ignore—his gaze lifted.

And there you were.

Standing quietly near the back. Almost hidden. Almost not there.

But he saw you.

Your eyes met his, and the world narrowed.

Just for a moment, it was quiet.

Just for a moment, it was 3:07 a.m. again.

There were no smiles exchanged.

No nods.

Just something suspended between you—years of silence, almosts, and words that never made it past the throat.

But it was enough.

He understood.

So did you.

And then the music changed.

The crowd rose to their feet, turning.

She appeared—his bride, radiant and glowing, the embodiment of everything he had chosen.

He looked at her, heart steady.

And when she reached him, he took her hand with warmth, with care.

The ceremony moved forward.

Vows were spoken.

Promises made.

And when he leaned in to kiss her, he did so gently, tenderly, with a love that had grown slowly, earnestly.

Applause broke out.

The world opened again.

And when he turned, just for a second—just instinctively.

He saw you.

You were walking away, slipping through the crowd with that small, knowing smile on your lips.

The kind that said everything.

He watched you disappear around the corner, and it struck him.

That was your goodbye.

Not in words.

Not in tears.

Just in the way you let go—with grace, with quiet acceptance.

And maybe that was what you both needed.

Not closure. Not confession.

Just the soft acknowledgment of what once lived between you, and what would no longer linger.

He turned back toward the crowd, toward the life he’d chosen.

And the ache in his chest softened, like something finally exhaled.

How the LaDS men react to you leaving a note in their lunch

pairings: Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Caleb x F!Reader(separate)

content: corny puns(i’m sorry), tiny bit suggestive, mostly fluff, mentions of meals being skipped in caleb’s

a/n: caleb’s and sylus’s a teensy bit longer bc i got carried away at end oopsies

Xavier

You and Xavier usually ate lunch together, be it after a mission or after training. Perks of being partners at work.

Today, however, was different.

Xavier had to join the analytics department for a debrief after a special solo mission.

He originally planned on flaking and leaving with you as soon as you had wrapped up your work.

But once you had persuaded him a bit with promises of spending the whole day together tomorrow and a long cuddle session tonight, he caved.

You patted his head as he was pouting at you and pressed a small box to his chest, before turning around and waving goodbye.

He barely registered the tupperware he was holding, as he longingly stared at your retrieving back.

Once you were out of sight, he looked at what exactly you had given him.

Taking in the silver box, he smiled to himself.

The corners of his lips turned upwards and he went to sit down on the nearest chair.

You expected him to eat it during a short break during the meeting, but he couldn’t wait that long, knowing you prepared something for him.

He was contemplating taking out his phone and telling you to come back and join him right now, eat the food you had made for him, together.

He stopped that train of thought, thinking to himself that he didn’t want to drag you back here.

With a slight shake of his head and sigh escaping his lips, he went to open the box.

The first thing he noticed was the amazing smell of whatever you had packed him, the second wasn’t the food but a little yellow note stuck to the roof of the lid.

“Hang in there, Xavie.

I’ll make it worth your while tonight ;)”

The tips of his ears turned red, he stared at the note before breathing out a chuckle.

You really knew how to motivate him, didn’t you?

Before he could linger on the note for too long, he heard a chipper voice behind him.

“Oh, hey Xavier! Mind if we join you?”

He saw Tara and Simone put their bags on the table he was sitting at.

He gave them a small nod of acknowledgement, immediately tuning them back out again after.

He hid the note in his pocket, thinking about how to repay you later.

Zayne

Zayne was used to you preparing his lunch for him, he considered you bringing him his lunch during his breaks as part of his work routine.

He loved getting to see you amid his packed schedule, finding a way to sneak in some extra time for you two to spend together.

Unfortunately, today you couldn’t drop by and bring it to him in person, since you had to go on a mission outside of town.

Instead, you had handed him his lunchbox this morning, kissing him on the cheek before heading out.

He usually looked forward to his break because he knew he’d be able to see you.

Today, that perk fell away, so once his break time rolled around, he kept on working on some reports.

Until he heard the notification sound he put specifically for you,

“Don’t forget to eat, Dr. Zayne!”

“I miss uuuu, can’t wait to see u later”

A small smile graced his lips, an expression you easily brought out of him.

“Take care of yourself. I’ll be alright, as long as you’ll return in one piece later.”

Once he saw you were offline again, he put his phone away, finally taking out the lunchbox you had prepared for him this morning.

He placed it on his desk, taking the lid off.

He immediately noticed the small sticky note you had left.

“I’m “nuts” about you ;D enjoy your break, my love.”

Zayne silently quirked a brow as he read the message you wrote for him.

He shook his head as a quiet laugh escaped him.

His face went back to its usual deadpan expression.

If anyone were to walk in, he’d appear the same as he usually did. You’re the only one who would’ve been able to make out his hidden amusement.

Before he went to eating, he quickly pressed the sticky note to the frame of the picture he had of you two on his desk.

He was looking forward to welcoming you home tonight.

Rafayel

Rafayel had been whining all morning.

He was being forced to meet up with some art brokers outside of Linkon.

He had come up with 10 different excuses and 7 different plans on how to get out of this, yet all of his attempts were shut down. By you.

Talk about betrayal.

You had spent the entire morning talking him into going, saying how it would benefit him and how he should just make Thomas’s job easier for once.

Why couldn’t you understand that he just wanted to spend as much time with you as he could!!!

The next best idea in his mind was coaxing you into coming along.

Too bad for him, you already had plans for the day.

“Just get going already, you big baby.”

You had said to him.

“The sooner you get there, the sooner you can come back. Probably.”

You paid no mind to his heart clenching pout(self proclaimed) and just pinched his cheeks.

Before he could attempt anything else, like tripping over a brush and pretending to have broken his back, or blowing up his car(who knew what lengths he was willing go to, just to get out of work? You certainly didn’t want to find out.) you pressed a chaste but sweet kiss to his lips.

“Have a good day, Rafayel. And be nice to Thomas!”

And before he knew it, you were out of the door.

A groan left his lips, as he rolled his eyes in annoyance.

He was willing to go along with anything you had planned today, he just wanted to be with you a bit more.

Finally, wrapping up his sulking once he realised you weren’t coming back and he really did have to get going.

He grabbed his bag and left out the door you had disappeared out of, minutes before.

Fast forward a few hours later, he’d been sitting in some stuffy office, barely paying attention to what Thomas and the man sitting across from him were saying.

“Alright, let’s take five.”

At that, Rafayel perked up.

Immediately getting out of his chair and walking towards the door.

“Always nice doing business.”

Thomas gave him a pointed look,

“Rafayel, we aren’t done here yet. You better not take too long.”

The purple haired man hummed without looking back and left the building as quickly as he could.

While he knew Thomas was probably gonna think he left, as soon as he couldn’t find him inside, he didn’t care.

He got in his car and rested his head against the steering wheel.

He stretched and went to reach into his bag to grab his phone to text you, when he suddenly saw something he hadn’t noticed before.

There was a silver box sitting in his bag.

You sweet, cunning little thing.

He immediately pulled the lunchbox out, a look of intrigue in his eyes.

Of course, you wouldn’t just cruelly send him into hours of boring work, without rewarding him!

He took the lid off, being met with another sweet, sweet surprise.

Your handwriting immediately caught his attention.

“You’re doing amazing, baby!”

A chibi you doing a thumbs up next to the message,

and on the bottom you drew two stick figures holding hands, surrounded by hearts.

He chuckled quietly and if anyone told you about the lovesick look on his face as he stared at the tiny note, he would’ve sworn they were lying.

He reached back into his bag to grab his phone, snapping a picture of the note,

“seems like ur down bad for me lol”

You didn’t have to know about the goofy grin on his face as he ate whatever you had prepared.

Sylus

Whenever he could, Sylus would make sure you and him shared at least one meal together.

He knew, that due to your conflicting schedules, that wasn’t always possible.

By the time you’d wake up, Sylus’s day was slowly drawing to a close,

by the time you’d have lunch, Sylus would be fast asleep,

and by the time he’d wake up, you were finishing up the last of your work.

Yet he’d make an effort regardless.

Whether it be having breakfast, while you were eating your last meal of the day or keeping you company while he brought you breakfast, simultaneously getting ready to wind down after a night of work.

Obviously, that didn’t always work.

Sometimes you two would barely be able to see each other, missing one another due to your complicated relay race of a sleep schedule.

Today was one of those days.

Yesterday was your day off, but you had to get up early today to get to the Hunters Association on time, so you decided to catch up on some sleep and hit the hay early last night.

As Sylus had to get ready to leave, you had finished up your dinner.

Just as you got into the bedroom to call it a day, Sylus was heading out to tie up some loose ends.

With murmured declarations of love, you bid each other farewell. A quick kiss on the cheek, a soft peck on the lips and out the door he was and you were settling into bed.

Morning came rolling around, Sylus was taking longer than usual.

Before you knew it, you had to head out of the door, taking one of Sylus’s many cars to drive back to Linkon City,

not before sending him a quick text, though;

“I’ll get going now. Rest well, Sy!”

By the time he had gotten back to the base, you had long been gone.

He rubbed his eyes as he read your text.

Feeling groggy, he decided to skip his last meal and texted you back a good night message.

Once he had woken back up, he was half expecting you to be back, laying next to him but to his disappointment, you were no where in sight.

He headed to the kitchen as he checked the time.

5 pm. Surely you’d be coming back soon.

Sylus found Luke and Kieran lounging around the fridge and he quirked an eyebrow at them,

“You two usually don’t show your faces here, unless it’s time to eat.”

The twins looked at him, Luke scratching his neck and Kieran going back to looking around the kitchen,

“Well, boss…”

“Your bad luck struck again.”

“Very unfortunate, indeed.”

“Mhm, mhm!”

Sylus looked at them unimpressed, waiting for them to elaborate.

Luke and Kieran looked each other, silently trying to get the other to break the news to him.

“You see,”

“You might’ve just missed…”

“Miss hunter, boss-man.”

“Mhm, you totally missed her, boss.”

“She just left actually.”

Sylus could feel a headache forming, squinting his eyes at his henchmen.

“She was here? Why would she leave so soon, then?”

The twins shrugged in unison. Mumbling something about how unpredictable hunters were.

“She actually got here a few hours ago,”

“Said she didn’t wanna wake you.”

“Something about you needing the sleep.”

He heard one of them snicker, he couldn’t care enough to glare at the one who did.

Sylus ran a hand through his hair and a pointed look was enough to send the twins scurrying off.

He made a mental note to subtly complain to you about this later.

His mood souring after finding out he just missed you by a hair, he decided to have someone bring his breakfast up to his office, as he turned on his heel.

He spent the day in his office, working through a pile of reports and modifying Mephisto.

He sent you a few texts in between but gathered that you were busy, considering the lack of responses.

He was starting to think he shouldn’t have worked on Mephisto today, curious to see what you were up to, that was so much more important than answering his texts.

At around midnight, a knock resounded on his door.

“Come in.”

His hopes that it might just be you crushed, as he saw one of the twins walk in.

“Yo, boss-man, we were told to make sure you take a break. Instructions from the boss of all bosses.”

He placed a lunchbox on Sylus’s desk and disappeared as quickly as he had shown up.

Mephisto started cawing, reminiscing a laugh.

Sylus shut him up with a flicker of his gaze.

He reached for the black box and opened it.

His lips curled upwards into a half smirk as his eyes landed on the post-it note.

“The anticipation of seeing you later is driving me crazy.

Now, eat up!”

He could read you like an open book, even when you weren’t with him, yet having you be so open about your feelings made something inside of his chest bloom.

Even when you were busy, you still made sure to leave your mark on his day one way or another.

The soft look in his eyes was only ever reserved for you and he couldn’t wait to show it to you.

Don’t think he’ll forget about how you didn’t answer his texts, though.

Caleb

Growing up, Caleb always packed your school lunch.

He would cook for you whenever you were home.

And even when he wasn’t home, he’d make sure you were fed one way or another.

That habit never stopped as you two got older.

He loved cooking for you, it’s the reason he learned how to make all of your favourite dishes.

You always wanted to return the favour but a good moment never presented itself.

From starting college and becoming a pilot to becoming the Colonel of the Farspace Fleet, his discipline only increased and so did his love for you.

Just when on earth could you find the time to make food for a man who got up at the ass crack of dawn to work out and make you a nutritious breakfast.

Well, once you found out that this same disciplined man skipped his own meals in favour of getting his work done, you decided to step your game up.

You had it all planned out, you’d take a few days off without telling him, meal prepping for him and getting to his apartment in Skyhaven without telling him.

As you arrived at his place and unlocked the door, stepping inside, your phone vibrated.

“Whatcha up to, pips? ;)”

You squinted around the room trying to see if he had any cameras inside.

Arriving at the conclusion that he probably(hopefully) just got a notification from his door being unlocked, you texted him back.

“Got the day off, gonna wait here until you come back.”

You felt your phone vibrate a few more times after you tucked it back into your pocket, you made your way to his fridge.

Wishing he could see your face of absolute disbelief at the sight of his pathetic fridge.

Empty. Entirely empty, aside from a few apples.

Who lives like this?

Does this man live off of apples?!

You placed all the tupperware you had prepared ingredients in, in his fridge.

Some rice, boiled veggies and proteins.

You’d have to give him a good talking to about this later.

A weird feeling settled in your chest, realising he only really takes good care of himself when you’re around, which is also just a by-product of him taking care of you.

With a sigh you closed his fridge, one more lunchbox remaining at the bottom of your bag.

Still ignoring the messages he had sent you, you left his apartment again.

Caleb was lounging in his office, he still had some time before he had to attend another meeting with the other Colonels and their subordinates.

He was wondering why you weren’t answering him, he was about to check the cameras around his apartment, when a knock resounded in his office.

He put his phone away, knowing he was about to get busy again.

-

His authoritative steps echoing through the emptying hallway.

The nurses and soldiers hurrying off after seeing his annoyed expression.

He paid them no mind, as he unlocked the door to his office.

As soon as he stepped inside, he took his hat off, running a hand through his hair.

Caleb couldn’t care less what the other people working there thought of him.

He gets his work done and he gets it done well.

Nothing else mattered, yet he couldn’t help but feel annoyed at these stuck up old men who dared to doubt his capabilities, be it out of sheer jealous or fear.

They got another thing coming, if they think they could mess with him.

He doesn’t take lightly to his duties, and he doesn’t take lightly to protecting you.

You. That’s who all this was about.

He would put up with about anything, as long as it meant you’d be safe.

Because you were everything to him, his sweet pipsq-

He lost his train of thought as he spotted the silly lunchbox sitting on his desk.

A pattern of red and green apples on it, decorated with stickers that had started to wear off.

It’s your old lunchbox.

He looked around his office, a grin finding its way onto his lips.

You’ve always been a sly one.

He sat down in his chair, inspecting the childish box.

As he took a look inside he was hit by the smell of braised chicken wings.

But he immediately lost interest in the food as soon as he saw the note you had snuck inside of the box.

“Learned from the best.

Eat well and rest well, Caleb.

Or you’ll have to face my fury >:(“

He chuckled to himself, you managed to get into his office undetected, just to drop off some lunch for him?

Caleb loved taking care of you.

It’s what he lived for, but he couldn’t lie.

He liked the feeling of you looking out for him as well.

You always manage to make all his doubts and worries disappear.

He’ll have to get creative with thanking you later.

caleb | 1:22 am

Your pillow is buzzing. Why is it buzzing? You groan and reach underneath your pillow, grasping at your phone. You pull it out, sit up in bed and blink at it. Caleb's name flashes across the screen. You swipe your finger across it.

"Caleb?"

There's a pause before the voice on the other end coughs awkwardly.

"Uh... is this... Pipsqueak?"

You're immediately alert. The voice doesn't belong to Caleb.

"Who is this?" you demand, your voice still thick with sleep.

"You were listed as this guy, Caleb's, emergency contact," the voice explains. "He's at the bar. We've had to cut him off. Can you come get him? We close in, like, half an hour."

You're immediately out of bed, pulling sweatpants and a hoodie on. "Oh my god, of course, I'm on my way."

You're stuffing your feet into shoes when you hear someone slurring his words in the background. "Hey, that's my phone, gi-gi-give it back!"

---

"You're too nice to him, my wife would have made me sleep and sober up outside."

You chuckle at the taxi driver's remark. You were lucky to flag down a cab at this time in the night. The driver had asked you were you were going so late, and you had explained everything to him. You and Caleb had been giving each other the silent treatment for two days now. It was over something stupid. He had left one of his unfinished models lying around on the floor in your apartment and you hadn't seen it - you had ended up stepping on it - on accident, of course - but you had never seen Caleb so upset. It ended with him storming out of your apartment and no calls or texts from him for the last couple of days. You had thought about apologizing first, but had decided he was being childish and that he would approach you when he was ready. But it turns out that he had decided to drown his sorrows in alcohol. You had known that he likes to drink socially once in a while, but he's never been totally wasted before - not like this. You wanted to seem calm and collected, but inside, your anxiety is tearing you up. Is Caleb okay?

The driver slows down and pulls up to the bar. He meets your eyes in the rearview mirror.

"Go get him, I'll wait here."

You thank him, and head inside the bar. The glass door is already locked, but you knock a couple of times, and a staff member appears from behind the bar and lets you in.

"Sorry," he apologizes, scratching the back of his head. "We would have sent him home in a cab but he wouldn't tell us his address. He kept saying he wanted 'Pipsqueak'. He's a regular here so we really didn't want to let him wander home by himself."

You nod at the bartender. "Thank you. Where is he?"

He points at one of the corner booths with his thumb. You make a beeline for it, and see Caleb, lying across the booth's cushion. His cheeks are flushed red and he's snoring lightly, his hand gripping his phone.

You shake him gently to wake him. "Caleb, let's go home."

He groans and lifts his head slowly. "Please, leave me alone. I have... I have a..." His eyes open and they widen when they meet yours. "Pipsqueak," he whispers.

You place a hand on his cheek. "Let's get you home, okay?"

---

It was a mission to get Caleb in the cab, even with the help of the bartender. It's an even bigger mission to get him into your apartment building and up the stairs. But you manage to do it, and get him inside the apartment without incident.

Almost there!

You practically haul him to your room, and push him onto the bed. He flops onto it like a ragdoll, one arm and both his legs hanging off the sides.

You stare at him, hands on your hips, panting quietly. "Well, that can't be too comfortable."

You take a few moments to catch your breath before you decide to tackle his jeans and shoes - they come off easily enough, and then you get to work on his shirt. His eyes are still closed and he's muttering something softly, but you can't take the time to figure out what he's saying. You start to put on some shorts for him, but it's awkward and you only manage to get one leg in.

"Caleb, Caleb." You squeeze one of his knees to wake him again. "I need your help, sit up for a little bit."

This seems to rouse him and Caleb lets out a low groan and rises slowly.

"Okay, let's just get these shorts on."

Caleb is still for a few moments, and you think he's fallen asleep again while sitting up. But he mumbles something almost imperceptible, and you almost miss it. He's saying your name.

You look up at him from where you're crouching next to the bed, and meet his bloodshot eyes. There are tears forming at their corners.

You're startled - you're not used to seeing him cry. "Caleb? What's wrong?"

"I'm so sorry," he whispers. You can smell the alcohol in his breath. "I was so stupid. I'm sorry."

A lump in your throat forms and you have to turn away before he can see the tears in your own eyes. You clear your throat before speaking again. "Let's talk about it in the morning, okay? Just get in the shorts and then we can go to bed."

Caleb nods, and pulls his shorts up so that they're on properly. You breathe a sigh of relief, and help him get under the covers of the bed.

You go about settling down for the night again, making sure the front door is locked, all lights are off, and placing a packet of headache medication and a glass of water on the nightstand next to Caleb's side of the bed.

You slide in under the covers next to him, and notice that he's still awake, his eyes struggling to focus on you.

"Pipsqueak," he mutters, his eyelids fluttering. "Please, don't be mad at me any more."

You smile at him, amused at the fact that he fought to stay awake to tell you that. You brush the hair away from his forehead with your hand and plant a small kiss on it. Caleb sighs, and he closes his eyes, surrendering to sleep.

"You're the one who didn't call or text for two days, dumbass," you mumble, knowing that you'll go unheard. You don't care. You continue raking your hands through his hair as he snores softly.

Save me Lumiere~

I have read this myltiple times and its one of my fav stories to reaf

Ahhhhhhhhh.. its too goooddddd

Thank you author

👻💌👻

Soiree

There have been recent sightings of a new savior in Linkon City named Soiree. Xavier was pretty much ignorant of the news until he encountered the said heroine.

Pair: Xavier x MC

A/N: A birthday gift for the Xavier girlies! Advance Happy Birthday Xavier! I really like that scene of Xavier getting jealous lmao

Word count: 3,350

Tags: Disguises, Lumiere hello, minor injuries and violence, MC being stubborn, being jealous

“There have been recent sightings of a new savior in Linkon City! Blending in darkness to fight for justice!” says the man on the radio. While preparing dinner and Xavier is doing the dishes, you two are listening to the city news as background noise and as awareness of what is happening.

“A new Lumiere on the loose?” You said, smiling a bit. Xavier gave you a look before the radio continued.

“This mysterious savior this time is a lady who blends in the shadows after skillfully defeating wanderers and evildoers roaming around, especially at night,” he said. “The other savior that graced us was Lumiere, who defeated powerful wanderers last sighted many years ago,”

“And there he is,” You chuckled, showing your appreciation for your hero. Xavier puffed his face in response.

“Her name is Soiree, a complement to the savior in the dark to the savior in the light,” The voice said on the radio.

“It has been a while since Lumiere was last seen,” You pondered. “I miss my knight so much,”

“Well, maybe he doesn’t need to show up,” Xavier said with a puffed face as he finished the dishes and turned off the radio to play music. “Maybe he has more important priorities at the moment,”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know… Maybe being with his beloved,”

You blushed.

You remembered the trick you did for Xavier to admit many years ago. You appreciate that he saved you twice in that identity, but you are more grateful he saved you so many times as the love of your life, Xavier, your favorite dummy who gets jealous and sulks whenever you talk about Lumiere.

“I wonder why this Soiree is showing up lately…” Xavier pondered. “Maybe because of the recent crime rates and wanderers rising in the city,” You suggested. The past months were no better, there’s just been much work lately in the Association.

“It’s going to be fine, she doesn’t have to do that,” Xavier said. “Anyway, time for your medication,” he ordered. You groaned as a complaint. Because of the recent events, your heart has been under a lot of stress lately. Hence, you currently have less workload in the meantime and are under the watchful eyes of Xavier.

“Same to you in changing your bandage,” You retorted back. “I will after you take your medicine,” he said in return. You’ve been worried about him the past weeks, he was often gone to do his duties as a Hunter. He goes home bruised and needs first aid. You feel bad for not helping him that much. Sometimes you miss him because he had to go away for days for missions.

“You’re doing that face again,” Xavier said. “You do not have to worry about me. You should focus on recovering more…” He placed a pill on your palm, which is your heart medicine, and then offered you a glass of water.

“I want to help you, your body has taken much damage lately,” You swallowed the pill before drinking the water.

“Focusing on your health more is already a help for me, the sooner you get better, the sooner we can be partners again,” He smiled. You sighed and smiled back. “Okay, okay,” He patted your head.

Suddenly, several warning beeps are heard in your watch and his. Your eyes widened.

“High leveled wanderers!” You exclaimed. “But Alpha hunters are currently fighting on the other side-” Xavier quickly gets ready to fight. “Xavier?” You stand up and realize. “You’re taking all of them?!”

“I can handle it, I don’t have a partner but I’ll manage,” he said. Then he stopped. “And no, you can’t, end of discussion,”

You know Xavier is strong but not in his state and in that many. You followed him but he only stopped you, and kissed you before leaving. You wanted to follow him but he wouldn’t want that.

Xavier dodged the attack as several wanderers were going in his direction. He summoned multiple light-fused swords and charged at them. He panted as he still had bruises and recovering from the last battle. He barely dodged an incoming attack and he flew to the ground. Despite the pain and his sight went blurry, he still gets up and kneels. He has to fight, someone is waiting for him back home.

He breathes, summoning more light to his sword. The wanderers rush towards him and anticipate the blow of their attacks.

Dark swords rush through from a distance as a black-clad figure gets down. Xavier gets up and runs to the wanderers, slicing through them. The swords are different and seem customized as he observed. In landing back to the ground, the wanderers are extinguished. Xavier looked at the figure, a woman wearing a black coat, covering her body. He stared at her eyes looking at the finished wanderers before she looked back at him. Her eyes widened.

“Soiree?” he said. The figure jumps and runs, he quickly turns into specks of light but as he appears near her, she quickly goes to the alley and vanishes in the dark.

After seeing she was completely gone, Xavier took deep breaths, taking internal information about what happened. He looked at his watch as he finished the mission, he saw your location, you were back in his room, waiting for him. He smiled as he returned.

“There have been reports that the mysterious individual that did the recent clearings of wanderers can be Soiree…” as the voice heard on the radio. You noticed Xavier tilted his head as if he was interested. You were tending to his wounds by putting on fresh bandages. The last mission was successful, but he was battered badly.

“I guess we got a new Lumiere,” You hummed. Xavier seemed to be deep in thought. “I saw her,”

“Huh?”

“I saw Soiree in the last mission,” he said. You gasped in response. “Oh! What does she look like? What did she do?”

“She… She helped me,” he replied. You raised your eyebrow, he seemed to be deep in thought. “I did warn you about the last mission…” You sighed. “But I’m just glad you are alright,” He is still deep in thought but smiles after. “How was she? Was she as good as the news said?” You asked further.

“She is a good swordswoman, that I can say,” he replied.

Footsteps are heard in the dark alley as Soiree finishes another slaying of the wanderers. She is panting as she sheathes her sword. She can hear her heart pounding hard as she runs to the other street to fight another set of wanderers. At the end of the alley, she saw a familiar figure running towards them. She runs faster and presses a button in her sleeve causing her to teleport.

Xavier can feel the toll on his body as he keeps on fighting wanderers nonstop this week. He sleeps all the time and longer whenever he manages to go home, to keep you from getting worried. But this is for your own good, he prefers dealing with it all than seeing you hurt in battle. In his peripheral vision, he saw swords going towards the wanderers. He turns to see Soiree, who has been around the past weeks, getting rid of the wanderers. He tries to get in contact with her, but she vanishes before he can do so.

He slashes using his sword and sees Soiree fighting as a wanderer gets closer to her. Xavier transforms into balls of light and speeds towards her, grabbing her body away from the wanderer’s smash. They tumbled down from a distance, Xavier quickly summoned a barrage of light swords, ending the wanderer. He shielded Soiree before looking at her again, she also looked exhausted even if all he could see were her eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asked. Soiree quickly got up and seated away from him. She only managed to nod in response. Soiree stood up and ran. “Wait!” Xavier called but she was already gone, blending in the darkness of the alley. He could’ve teleported to her, but she looked really tired. He understood that. He looked at his watch, checking on how you’ve been, the dot on the screen representing you is in his kitchen. He smiled.

Xavier went home and smiled as you greeted him. “Welcome home!” you said as you hugged him. “I’m back… I also got some takeout for dinner,” he said, hugging you back and offering a bag of food. Your eyes lightened up. “Yay! I’m starving!” You grabbed the bag and started to set the table. After a few minutes, Xavier returns, wearing fresh, comfortable clothes. “You look tired. You should rest for a bit,” you said as you got a spoon to scoop some rice. “Same as you,” he replied. “Are you okay? You look sleepy,”

“Huh?” You blinked. “It’s probably the heart medicine, a side effect,” you replied and took a spoonful. He chuckled, as you looked adorable. The radio is turned on and hearing reports about Soiree saving the city today. You looked at him, he seemed engrossed in the news now.

“Someone is interested in the city heroine now,” you teased. Xavier looked at you, confused but his eyes showed something else you couldn’t pinpoint.

“No, I’m not… She is fighting a lot lately,” he said. “I don’t see her purpose on why she is doing this,”

You hummed. “I mean, what was your purpose when you were Lumiere?” Xavier stopped eating at the question and looked down. “Lumiere just wants to protect someone he cares about,”

You’re touched at his response, cheeks slightly went pink. “I think it would be the same for Soiree,” you said. “Maybe she just wants to protect someone… The people she loves,”

Xavier chuckled. “Hmm… Honestly, you reminded me of Soiree,”

You blinked, a bit stunned. Then you returned to eating a piece of dumpling. “How so?”

“Well, she is good with the sword,” he commented. “She is a reserved person, though,” You pouted while he smiled. You know that they come across multiple times, you can’t help but miss the action… And miss battling alongside him. The way he talks about Soiree, it is a compliment but you can’t help but to feel things.

After that wonderful dinner, you two cuddled on the bed. Xavier slept so fast that he was really tired. You stared at him, basking in his features. You were worried about him, you felt he was also fighting on your behalf, as you are currently out on medical leave.

You watched him sleeping soundly, missing his presence. You just wanted him to be beside you, and you beside him. He had a knack for leaving, with or without notice, in the past. So many coincidences of your wishes and hopes being granted, often in your worries about wanderers getting frequent and the next day, it was all normal. He did everything that he could for you, it made you feel you wanted to do the same for him.

Your watch suddenly beeped a warning, a wanderer was sighting in a nearby town. You panicked and looked at Xavier, he was still sleeping soundly.

You run to the darkest alleys to get to the town. You saw the vast electrified cloud in the distance, spawning out wanderers. A voice was heard in your earpiece. “You can’t keep doing this, you’re not well enough for this type of wanderer!”

“Not now, Jeremiah! I can do this!” You yelled and summoned your sword. You start summoning more swords spinning around you as you get closer.

“Get back! The only Hunter that defeated this kind of wanderer was Lumiere!” He reported.

“Well, Lumiere isn’t coming back! I won’t allow it,” You started to slash as the swords around you went straight at the wanderer. You dodged the incoming attack but the wanderer was fast and pounded its fists on the ground, creating shockwaves as you were swept away. You got slammed on the wall, sight being dizzy and heart pounding. You stand up and barely dodge the attack. You ran and hid behind the alley wall, noticing you couldn’t lift your arm without causing so much pain. You use your other arm to hold your sword, using your Evol to enhance the sword, summoning multiple swords all at once to stab. You keep your distance as you continue to summon, and your heart starts to beat harder causing pain and making you dizzy. You stumbled as the wanderer gathered his fists again to create a shockwave towards you.

A tiny light appeared above and increased brighter, speeding to the wanderer and a huge illusion of a sword shoots down on it. It screamed in pain as it stumbled back. The figure gets down on the ground and flicks his sword.

You are stunned as he moves his head slightly, showing his mask. ‘Xavier… Lumiere?’ He didn’t speak, he returned his focus to the hostile wanderer. You saw him dance around the enemy and slash with accuracy. Your sight gets blurrier as you see him rush towards the enemy, you hear a roar before a complete silence, only the noises of the rubble. The bright figure dispels his sword as you try to stand and move. You only see sparkles of light that become warm arms before your sight turns dark.

You stirred and opened your eyes, your eyelids felt heavy but you had enough energy to function. You felt sore, in moderate pain and you still can’t move your arm. As you get up, you realize you are on the side of a building, watching the people below doing a clean-up and investigating the matter. You felt the mask fabric around your face, hence you convinced yourself that your face was not exposed.

“How are you feeling, Miss Soiree?” You snapped and looked, seeing Xavier- Lumiere beside you, as his face was covered by his mask and wearing the Lumiere outfit. You took a peek to his eyes, the cerulean orbs staring at yours intently, a lot more icier than usual. He is mad, mad.

“I’m okay,” you spoke softly, praying that he won’t notice anything, or even think anything beyond Soiree.

“I will accompany you for a medical assessment afterward and make sure you are well. What you are doing is dangerous,” He said sternly. You did remember Xavier saying that Lumiere is like a knight, handsome and gentle, while he is harsh and cruel. Well, he is wrong, as this Lumiere can be the other way around now.

“I can handle it… I’ve been worse,” You replied, still hesitant. Your answer ticked something to Lumiere.

“Miss Soiree, you almost died… People who love you would be devastated to hear that, especially… The one who wants to protect you,” he replied. Despite his mask obscuring his face, his tone and eyes feel like they would stab an enemy. You looked away, concluding to somewhat come clean by responding to his statement.

“He does, always,” You hugged your knees, unaware you said ‘him’, which surprised Lumiere. “I did this because I want to protect him. He… He has been away so much lately,”

Lumiere looked away as if he was feeling guilty.

“I felt I’m not helping him enough, in a direct manner,” you continued. “I thought, maybe if I can finish without constraints, maybe he would be around more,” There was silence afterward, while the moonlight shone on them.

“Maybe you can just ask him,” Lumiere said. “Seeing you being unresponsive earlier, it scared me… What more of him? You almost left him,”

“I’m scared he might leave me too,” you responded as your deep anxiety opened. You can see his eyes widen in a split second before looking away. 

“I just… I just want him to-”

Before you can react, he pulls down your mask as he leans close to kiss you. You were stunned, but you closed your eyes, basking in the warmth of the kiss as you placed your hands on his chest. You two parted, panting to such an intense kiss, as it has been a while.

You stared at his eyes, you saw there were so many emotions all at once. Your hand went to his cheek, then gently to his mask, his brow knitted, wanting to pull back, but when he didn’t look like he was opposing, you removed it. You can see his handsome face, Xavier’s, in full view. He was deeply worried as he pulled you closer to him for an embrace. His breathing is jagged, desperate to feel you again.

“I am still upset,” he whispered. “But I’m glad you’re okay,”

You leaned closer to feel Xavier’s chest. You can feel his breathing flowing near your ear. “I’m sorry… I’m really sorry,”

Xavier laid his head on your shoulder for rest and comfort, especially in hearing your heartbeat being steady. The awful memory of you being hit in the attack when he arrived, he lost his control.

He did release you after a few minutes, as he remembered that you were still injured. “Let’s go… I’ll bring you to the hospital,” You opened your mouth. “No buts,” he said, pouting. You quickly surrendered, you’re still not in the clear after all.

You were under the monitor now after being confined for a couple of days at the hospital. Xavier seemed to not be entertaining any conversation other than your well-being. He didn’t leave and tendered to your healing process. So much that…

“Ugh, healing porridge again,” You said in disgust.

“You need to recover and this is doctor’s order… I’m just simply imposing it,” Xavier said as he crossed his arms. He then sat beside you. “This wouldn’t happen if Miss Soiree just behaved herself,” his face is neutral but calm.

So he is opening it now, as you thought. “How…” you trailed off. “When did you know?”

He looked confused at first. “The moment you saved me,” He said. You were shocked. “Huh?!” That early! He went closer to you.

“I know those pretty eyes,” Xavier replied as you stared at him. “I know how you fight too,” You blushed in response as you looked away. “I was just trying to…” You stuttered.

“I understand… I’m sorry I keep going away,” he then looked away, rubbing his nape.

“It’s alright, sorry that I did… This,” you apologized. “You were really working yourself to the limit,”

“I’d rather do that than see you struggling and hurt. You were ordered to rest and now it was extended because of what happened. Your doctor even scolded you,” Xavier said and smiled a bit. “Still, I acknowledge my lapses. Just… Please don’t do this again. You can be Soiree again if you want… Just let me know,”

You can see his deep concern, he just thinks about your well-being as the top priority. You simply nodded and moved your head onto his shoulder.

“I know Jeremiah helped you,” he spoke.

“Uhh… Yeah,” You sheepishly responded. “Please don’t be too hard on him, I asked him-”

“Too late,” he hummed. You sighed, you have to make it up to him as well as you can just imagine what Xavier did to the poor florist.

“You modified your tracker synced in mine so you’ll be always at the house, despite you were actually outside,” he continued. “Soiree is clever, Lumiere would be impressed,”

You pouted. Xavier noticed your expression. He suddenly carried you to his lap. “Xavier!” you squeaked.

“What? Is someone jealous because I was giving compliments to the ‘savior in the darkness’, Soiree?” he smirked, feeling vindicated to what he felt about Lumiere.

You crossed your arms. “You were complimenting her a lot,” Xavier chuckled.

“Who do you like more - Me or Soiree?”

Xavier was a bit surprised at the question, then chuckled again. He touched your face and leaned closer for a kiss. Your foreheads are close together afterward, feeling the warmth of each other.

“My favorite… The dummy who was so stubborn that I had to call Lumiere to save her,”

Hey Little Stars ✨

The Prompts are up! 🎊

XavMC Week 2025 will be held from [10th - 16th May]

Post your works from 10th onwards, and tag your creative works with: xavmc week 2025

RULES:

Any form of creative content is welcome 😊fanarts, fanfiction, video edits, image edits, cosplay, glint photobooth pics, socmed AUs, etc..

Post your creations with tag: xavmc week 2025 (late creations will be reblogged within 2 weeks after the event ends)

TAG NSFW CONTENT WITH 🔞 + OTHER APPROPRIATE TAGS

STRICTLY NO AI 🚫

XavMC content only (your own MC is fine). No other LI ship.

Have fun! 💞

For any queries, feel free to send asks 💞

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄

⋯ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐄/𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐓

𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑

You wake up early, stretching lazily before grabbing Xavier’s hoodie from where it hangs on the rack like it’s routine. He’s still sleeping soundly as you slip out of the bedroom. The hoodie envelops you completely, sleeves hanging past your wrists, carrying his distinct, comforting scent.

In the kitchen, you prepare a simple breakfast for yourself, and a plate for Xavier that you know will likely go cold. The morning news plays quietly on the TV as you settle onto the couch, legs tucked underneath you, swimming in the soft fabric of his hoodie, feeling wrapped in Xavier’s presence despite his absence.

Movement catches your eye as Xavier appears in the doorway. His eyes find you immediately, taking in the sight of you wearing his clothing.

“Good morning,” you say, offering him his plate. “I made you breakfast.”

Xavier glances at the food but doesn’t take it. Instead, he shifts closer, arm sliding around your shoulders to pull you against his side. “Later,” he murmurs, his voice still rough with sleep.

His fingers trace absent patterns on your arm through the fabric of his hoodie, and you can feel him breathing in deeply, as if taking in the sight of you wrapped in something that belongs to him.

You nestle closer, and within minutes, his breathing becomes more even. Looking up, you find his eyes have drifted closed, his posture completely relaxed. You smile, pressing a gentle kiss to his jaw. Even in sleep, his arm remains securely around you, keeping you close as if unwilling to let you go now that he’s found you this way—comfortable, content, and wrapped in his clothing.

𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄

The mission had been longer than expected, and you’re exhausted as you make your way back home. Zayne had returned from his shift a few hours ago, and you’ve been looking forward to seeing him after days apart. You’re wearing his jacket—the black one with the subtle white trim that you’d taken from his closet before leaving. It’s become a comfort object during your mission, the lingering scent of his cologne providing reassurance during stressful moments.

You stop at the corner store for snacks before finally unlocking the apartment door. The place is quiet but warm as you kick off your shoes and pad toward the living room.

You find Zayne on the couch with journals spread around him. He looks up as you enter, his eyes immediately locking onto his jacket draped over your frame. Given his preference for professional coats, his collection of casual jackets and hoodies is small and meticulously maintained—making the absence of even one immediately noticeable to someone as detail-oriented as him.

“So that’s where it went,” he says. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he sets aside his work, creating space beside him.

You drop down next to him with a tired sigh. “Found me out.”

Zayne reaches out, fingers brushing against the collar of his jacket where it meets your neck. The touch is gentle, almost reverent. “It suits you better than me,” he murmurs.

His hand moves to your shoulder, pulling you closer to his side. “Next time,” he says, voice low near your ear, “take more than one. You know I don’t mind.”

His arm remains around you, a subtle but clear indication that while you may have his jacket, he’s pleased to have you.

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋

The gallery opening had been exhausting—too many people packed into too small a space, all of them wanting a piece of Rafayel’s attention. You’d smiled and nodded and played your part perfectly, but by the time you returned to his seaside home, you were completely drained.

Rafayel had stayed behind to handle some business with Thomas, insisting you go ahead without him. You’d grabbed one of his hoodies—the soft blue one with white pattern of waves—and changed into it the moment you got home. Now, curled up on the couch with the artsy duckie plushie he’d won for you clutched against your chest, you’d finally found peace in the quiet of the evening.

The sound of the door opening and closing barely registers as you drift between sleep and wakefulness. You vaguely hear the soft footsteps approaching, then a delighted sound that could only come from Rafayel.

“Oh, look at you,” he coos, his voice soft. “Absolutely precious.”

You hear the click of his phone camera and crack open one eye to see him standing above you, a fond expression on his face as he takes another photo to set it as his home screen later.

“Are you documenting my crime?” you mumble sleepily.

“I’m documenting perfection,” he corrects, sliding his phone into his pocket. “Move over a bit.”

You comply, and he squeezes onto the couch beside you, pulling you half onto his chest. His fingers thread through your hair, and you feel the tension in his body from the event slowly release.

“Did Thomas give you a hard time about leaving early?” you ask, voice muffled against the fabric of his shirt.

“Thomas always gives me a hard time,” Rafayel replies with a dismissive wave. “But I’d rather be here with you.”

You snuggle closer, the artsy duckie plushie squished between you, and feel him press a kiss to the top of your head as you both settle into the comfortable silence.

𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒

Snow falls in thick flakes outside the window, blanketing the forest view in pristine white. You stand before the floor-to-ceiling glass, mesmerized by the winter snow cascading from the gloomy sky. Sylus’s dark jacket envelops you like a protective shell, the sleeves long enough that you can curl your fingers into them. It smells like him—a blend of expensive cologne and something uniquely his—and wearing it feels almost like being wrapped in his embrace.

You’ve been standing there for nearly twenty minutes, lost in thought, when you hear the door to the residence open and close. You don’t turn, knowing exactly who it is from the footsteps entering the room.

“Enjoying the view?” Sylus asks, his voice closer than you expected.

You glance over your shoulder to find him watching you with an expression that makes your heart rate quicken. His eyes track from your face down to the jacket you’re wearing.

“It’s peaceful,” you reply, turning back to the window. “Everything looks so quiet from up here.”

“Indeed,” he agrees, though you can tell from his reflection in the glass that he’s not looking at the snow at all. He moves to sit behind you, close enough that you can feel his warmth. “Though I must say, my jacket looks better on you than it ever did on me.”

You smile, watching his reflection. “It’s warm.”

“If it’s warmth you’re seeking,” Sylus says, his hands coming to rest lightly on your shoulders, “perhaps I could offer something more comforting than a piece of fabric?”

You turn to face him, still wrapped in his jacket. “Is that an offer or a command?”

His lips curve into that familiar smirk as he pulls you closer. “With you? Always an offer.”

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁

The DAA jacket is practically a relic now—Caleb hasn’t worn it in years, not since he became Colonel in the Farspace Fleet. But it still hangs in the closet of your shared place, and on the nights when he’s away on missions, you find yourself reaching for it.

Tonight is one of those nights. The bed feels too big, too empty without him, and the jacket is a poor substitute but better than nothing. You’ve wrapped yourself in it, breathing in the faint traces of his scent that somehow still cling to the fabric after all this time.

You’re reading through reports on your tablet when the door slides open unexpectedly. You look up, startled, to see Caleb standing in the doorway, still in his Fleet uniform, a day earlier than scheduled.

“Caleb! You weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow,” you say, sitting up straighter.

His eyes immediately zero in on the jacket you’re wearing, and a slow, teasing grin spreads across his face. “Well, well. What do we have here? A thief in the house?”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling. “Hardly stealing when it’s been hanging untouched for years.”

Caleb fully enters the room and sits on the edge of the bed, reaching out to finger the fabric of the jacket’s collar. “I don’t know,” he says, voice dropping lower. “Looks like theft to me. I should probably report this.”

“I’ll give it back,” you offer, starting to shrug it off.

“Don’t you dare,” he says quickly, catching your hands with a grin. “It looks better on you anyway.” He pauses, then adds with mischief, “In fact, I think you should raid my entire closet. Take it all. Every last shirt and sock.”

You laugh, leaning forward to kiss him. “Welcome home, Caleb.”

“Home is wherever you are,” he replies, pulling you closer. “Stolen jacket and all.”

Based on this request.