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The little wolf 🐺

Love & Deepspace Men As Your Gym Instructor

pairings: sylus x reader, zayne x reader, rafayel x reader, xavier x reader, caleb x reader

A/N: A series of headcanons about the LIs as your gym instructor. Requests are very much open.

SYLUS

• Sylus isn’t just a gym instructor—he’s an executioner. He doesn’t train people; he breaks them. Every session is a test of survival, and he watches your suffering with just enough amusement to make you question if he enjoys this. “If you collapse, I’m leaving you here,” he deadpans as you struggle to get off the mat.

• He has absolutely no patience for whining. The moment you start complaining, he doubles the intensity of your workout.

“I think my legs are going to give out—”

“Perfect. Let’s add weights.”

• He’s unnervingly quiet when you struggle. No words of encouragement, no sympathy—just the piercing gaze of a man who expects results. You groan, dropping the dumbbells. He just stares. “…Say something.”

He blinks. “Pathetic.”

• He refuses to let you lift with bad form. He will physically adjust you without hesitation. Hand on your back, fingers pressing into your shoulders, grip firm against your waist. He’s indifferent to the proximity—you, however, are not. “Relax,” he murmurs, voice just above your ear. “You’re tense.”

• His personal space boundaries don’t exist—especially when spotting you. You’re struggling under a barbell, and suddenly, he’s there. Arms bracketing yours, voice smooth and unbothered. “Push,” he orders. You try, but all you can focus on is the way his breath fans against your cheek.

• He subtly tests your endurance just to see how much you can handle. He calls it training. It’s actually just entertainment. “You can take more,” he muses, adding another plate to the bar.

• Flirts without technically flirting. Everything he says could be taken as platonic—but the way he says it? Absolutely not. “You’re improving,” he muses.

You blink. “Wait… was that a compliment?”

He shrugs. “Take it or leave it.”

• Refuses to admit he cares, but it’s obvious in subtle ways. He’ll shove a water bottle at you without comment. Drag you to a bench when you look exhausted. You pant, wiping sweat from your forehead. “I’m dying.”

He clicks his tongue, tossing you a towel.

• Competitive to an unhealthy degree. You mention beating him at anything, and suddenly, he’s taking it personally. “I ran five miles today,” you say, stretching.

He glances over. “Make it ten next time.”

• When he does praise you, it’s rare—but devastatingly effective. It’s not often, but when it happens, it lingers. “Not bad,” he murmurs, watching you finish your set.

Your brain malfunctions. “Wait—what?”

He smirks. “Nothing.”

SCENARIO

You’re on the ground. Not sitting. Not crouching. Collapsed.

Sylus stands over you, arms crossed, entirely unimpressed. “Pathetic.”

You groan. “I literally can’t move...”

He tilts his head. “You have another set.”

Your glare could burn through steel. “Sylus. My legs are gone.”

He crouches beside you, gaze unreadable. “You’re fine.”

“I’m—” You gesture weakly. “—not fine.”

There’s a pause. Then—without warning—he hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you up like it’s nothing.

Your hands instinctively grab onto his shoulders, and for a second, the world tilts. His grip is steady. His voice, lower than usual.

“See?” he murmurs. “You’re still standing.”

You blink up at him, heart hammering. “I—”

He smirks, releasing you. You immediately stumble.

“Alright,” he says, stepping back, tone casual. “Next set.”

You hate him. You really do.

ZAYNE

• Zayne is a gym instructor with the patience of a saint and the intensity of a drill sergeant. He’s not the type to yell or get overly aggressive, but his expectations are high. If you slack off, he doesn’t scold you—he just looks at you. And somehow, that’s worse. “Again.” His voice is calm, almost indifferent, as you struggle through push-ups. “Don’t stop until you get it right.”

• He never sugarcoats anything. If your form is bad, he’ll tell you. If you’re being dramatic, he’ll call you out. But if you actually push yourself, he will acknowledge it.

• You pant, struggling to finish your reps. Zayne watches. “You’re stronger than that. Keep going.”

• The kind of instructor who gives subtle but sharp praise. He won’t shower you with encouragement, but when he does give a rare compliment, it sticks. “Well done,” he murmurs after you break your personal record.

• Prefers efficiency over flashy workouts. He doesn’t waste time with trends or gimmicks. He’ll give you a program that works, but you will definitely suffer. “No shortcuts,” he says, handing you a heavier weight than you expected. “Do it right, or don’t do it at all.”

• Not overly physical unless necessary. He’s not the type to adjust you constantly, but if your form is off, he will fix it—without hesitation. One hand at your lower back, the other guiding your grip. “Here,” he murmurs, voice close to your ear. “Straighten up.”

• Expects discipline, but isn’t completely heartless. He won’t let you quit, but he does notice when you’re genuinely struggling. His version of kindness? A short water break instead of immediate death.

• You groan. “Zayne, I think I’m dying.”

He hands you a water bottle. “Then hydrate first.”

• Completely unbothered by whining. Complain all you want—he won’t react. In fact, the more you complain, the more weight he adds.

• “My legs feel like jelly—”

“Then we’ll strengthen them.” He hands you a resistance band.

• Is meticulous about post-workout recovery. He doesn’t just push you—he makes sure you recover properly. That means stretching, hydration, and making sure you’re not being an idiot. “You better not skip your cooldown,” he warns.

You smirk. “Why? Will you carry me home if I collapse?”

His gaze flickers to you. “No, but I’ll make sure your next session is worse.”

• Doesn’t like distractions. If you come to the gym to chat or mess around, he’ll shut it down fast. “Focus,” he says when you start rambling between sets. “Or leave.”

• Gives zero reaction when people try to flirt with him. Other gym-goers have tried. He never takes the bait. You watch a girl giggle as she asks him for ‘help’ adjusting her form. Zayne corrects her stance in under five seconds, completely unfazed. “Done.”

She pouts. “That’s all?”

He turns to you instead. “You’re up.”

SCENARIO

You’re wheezing. Absolutely dying.

Zayne watches from the side, arms crossed. “You have five minutes left.”

You groan, gripping the treadmill’s handles. “I’m—gonna pass out.”

He tilts his head, unimpressed. “You said that ten minutes ago.”

“I meant it this time—”

The treadmill suddenly increases speed. You yelp.

“ZAYNE—”

He doesn’t react. “You’ll survive.”

You stumble, barely catching yourself. “You’re evil.”

There’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Keep running.”

RAFAYEL

• Rafayel is the worst and best trainer you could have. He’s the type to look like he’s taking this seriously—clipboard in hand, stopwatch ticking—only to throw in something completely ridiculous halfway through your session.

• “Alright, time for squats. And if you mess up, I’ll make you do them while balancing a book on your head. Gotta work on that grace, cutie.”

• He is not a role model. Skips warm-ups, ignores cooldowns, and somehow never follows his own advice. He’ll sit there drinking an iced coffee while watching you struggle. “Push through the pain,” he says lazily, sipping his caramel macchiato.

• Absolutely makes things harder just to mess with you. If he sees you struggling, does he help? No. He makes it worse. “Oh, you’re having trouble with those weights? Here, let me fix that.” —and suddenly he adds more.

• Zero professionalism. If you start flirting, he will flirt back, and it’s a dangerous game. “You’re lucky I’m here to watch you suffer.”

You smirk. “Or maybe you just like watching me.”

He leans in. “And what if I do?”

• Overly dramatic when he works out himself. If you ever catch him actually exercising, he acts like it’s a life-altering event. “God, this is agony. Why do people do this?” —as if he’s not a personal trainer.

• Pretends he doesn’t care, but actually keeps a close eye on you. He’ll tease you for whining, but the second you actually look like you might faint, he’s already there, handing you a water bottle. “Tsk. You look pathetic.” A pause. “…Drink.”

• Loves making up fake ‘training techniques.’ Half the time, you don’t know if he’s being serious or just making things up for fun. “This exercise is called ‘suffering but make it aesthetic.’ Perfect for you.”

• Will absolutely let you take breaks if you bribe him. You want to sit down and do nothing? Cool. Just bring him a snack, and he’ll mysteriously forget how many reps you had left. “Fifty push-ups? Nah, I think it was… ten. Maybe five, if you’re cute enough.”

• Gets jealous if you take fitness advice from someone else. If you ever listen to another trainer, expect Rafayel to sabotage them in the pettiest way possible. “Oh, he told you to stretch like that? Ridiculous."

• The type to bet against you—then get personally invested when you prove him wrong. He wants you to fail, just so he can be smug about it. But when you actually push through? Yeah, now he’s impressed. “…Goos job,” he mutters when you finish a brutal set. Then, a smirk. “Do it again.”

SCENARIO

Rafayel leans against the squat rack, watching you struggle with your set.

“I swear—this feels heavier than last time,” you grunt, barely holding the bar steady.

He smiles innocently. “Hmm. Weird.”

You narrow your eyes. “You did something.”

“Moi?” He places a hand on his chest, mock-offended. “Darling, I would never sabotage my favorite student.”

You pause. “I’m your only student.”

“Exactly.”

It takes you a second before realization hits. “You added weight when I wasn’t looking, didn’t you?”

He hums. “Guess you’ll have to finish the set to find out.”

“…I hate you.”

He grins. “I love you too.”

XAVIER

• Xavier is terrifyingly efficient as a trainer. He doesn’t yell, doesn’t mock, doesn’t even look particularly invested. But somehow, he always gets you to push past your limits. “You said you were done? No. You have three more in you. Keep going.”

• His neutral expression makes him unreadable. You can be dying in the middle of a workout, and he’ll just watch with the same blank stare.

“Is this… supposed to be this hard?”

He blinks. “Yes.”

• Zero tolerance for excuses. You tell him you’re tired? He tilts his head slightly. “And?” Say your muscles hurt? “That’s the point.” Try to leave early? He will appear behind you.

• But he has an unexpected soft spot. The moment you actually can’t keep going, he’s already handing you water, fixing your form, making sure you don’t push past your limit. He won’t say it, but he’s watching closely.

• Deadpan humor that makes you question if he’s serious. “Xavier, I think I’m dying.”

He nods. “Yes. That is what training feels like.”

• He’s weirdly encouraging in a clinical way. He won’t shower you with praise, but when he does compliment you, it hits. “Your endurance has improved,” he murmurs, as if it’s just an observation. …But somehow, that makes you want to try even harder.

• Almost never raises his voice, but when he does? You listen. The one time you nearly drop a weight on yourself, his usual monotone disappears. “Stop.” You freeze, more from shock than anything. When you glance up, his eyes are sharp—focused entirely on you.

Then, just as quickly, he’s back to normal. “Fix your grip.”

• He doesn’t do ‘small talk’—but he remembers everything you say. You mention your favorite protein shake once, and a week later, he hands you one without a word. “Drink this. You’ll need it.”

• One time, when you were gasping for air on the mat, you look up to glance at your instructor for an approval, only to see him snoring on the floor.

• Stares at you a bit too intensely. You didn't want to assume, but you swore you caught him staring into your lower half when you were doing squats.

• He has a quiet but very possessive streak. If another trainer tries to offer you advice, Xavier is right there, staring them down. “She’s my student,” he says, and that’s the end of the conversation.

SCENARIO

You’re gasping for air, bent over after another brutal round of circuits.

“I can’t—” you wheeze. “That’s it. I’m done.”

Xavier watches you for a moment, then nods. “Alright.”

Wait. That’s it? No cold stare? No sarcastic remark?

You frown. “You’re not going to force me to keep going?”

He hums. “No. If you want to stop, you can stop.”

…You don’t trust him. “…But?”

He tilts his head, like he’s considering something. Then, his voice drops, just barely: “I just thought you were stronger than this.”

Your eye twitches. Oh. Oh, that bastard.

You grit your teeth, straightening up. “Fine. One more set.”

For the first time that day, he almost looks amused. “Good choice.”

CALEB

• Caleb is the ultimate ‘supportive but slightly terrifying’ trainer. He’s always smiling, always energetic—but somehow, that makes him even scarier. “C’mon, pip-squeak! Just one more set! You got this!”

…You’ve been doing ‘one more set’ for the last 20 minutes.

• He’s the type to bet against you just to make you work harder. “You? Finishing a full workout without whining? Nah, I don’t see it happening.”

…You push yourself just to prove him wrong.

• Runs next to you on the treadmill—effortlessly keeping up. You’re dying, but he’s jogging beside you, chatting like this is a casual stroll. “You hear that? That’s the sound of progress, babe.”

…The only sound you hear is your own wheezing.

• Looks like he’s playing around, but he’s actually analyzing every move. He’s laughing, teasing, but if your form is even slightly off? He’s immediately fixing it. “Tsk. You keep that up, and you’ll wreck your knees. Here—” He steps behind you, hands ghosting over your waist to adjust your stance. Too close.

• Not afraid to use distractions as motivation. If he catches you slacking? He leans in, voice dropping into something softer. “What’s wrong? Getting tired already? You know, if you do five more reps, I might have a reward for you.”

…You never ask what he means. You don’t want to know.

• Has no sense of personal space. He will absolutely drape himself over you if he thinks you’re resting too long. “Oh, don’t mind me, I’m just waiting for you to stop being lazy.”

• If you ever try to beat him at anything, he makes it a whole event. You challenge him to a sprint? He smirks. “Oh? You think you can keep up with me?”Suddenly, the entire gym is watching.

• He absolutely loves reveling in the thought that he's physically stronger than you, sometimes even asking for you to sit on him as he do push-ups. You never agreed.

• He gets way too proud when you start improving. The first time you lift heavier weight than before, he whoops—loudly. “Hell yeah, that’s my girl!”

…You pretend it doesn’t make you feel weirdly warm.

• If anyone else so much as glances at you? He notices. And suddenly, he’s all over you—grinning, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “So, sunshine. How about we grab a smoothie after this? My treat.” …He’s not asking. He’s staking a claim.

• Will not let you leave without stretching—and if you refuse? He personally helps you. “Fine. We’ll do it together.” Then he’s behind you, hands guiding your arms, breath way too close to your ear. “Deep breath. Good girl." You’re never skipping cooldowns again.

SCENARIO

You collapse onto the mat, sweat dripping down your face. “I can’t anymore.”

Caleb squats down beside you, grinning. “Oh yeah?”

You glare up at him. “I’m done.”

He tilts his head, considering. “Hmm. Shame.”

“…Shame?”

He leans in, smirking. Too close. “Well, I was gonna say—if you did ten more reps, maybe I’d let you pick where we grab food after.”

You stare. “That’s—”

“—Or,” he interrupts, voice dropping, “I could just pick for you. And you know I have awful taste.”

You groan. He’s the type to drag you to some all-protein, no-flavor nightmare.

He grins wider. “So. What’s it gonna be, pip-squeak?”

You sigh, grabbing the weights. “I hate you.”

He laughs, standing back up. “No, you don’t.”

AHHH.. THIS IS SOOO GOOOOOD and perfectly captured the moment

Street interviews would absolutely get MC in trouble 😂

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 ;>

9:57 AM - Xavier woke up in a cold sweat. He had a dream about Lumiere

⋆˚࿔ the best pillow 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

-the LaDS men cuddling with you and laying their heads on your lap (fluff)

୨ৎ── . Sylus

The living room was peaceful, bathed in the soft golden glow of the late afternoon sun. Sylus lay stretched out on the couch, his head resting on your lap, while a book was placed in his large hands. His white hair fell messily over his forehead, as his red eyes scanned the pages with sharp focus.

The low hum of music played from the speaker across the room, a slow, soulful tune drifting through the air.

You absentmindedly ran your fingers through his hair, scrolling through your phone, when you glanced down at him. “Hey, can I connect my phone to the speaker?”

Sylus didn’t look up from his book. “No.”

You blinked. “No?”

A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Listen and appreciate real good music, sweetie.”

You rolled your eyes, sighing dramatically. “You sound like an old man.” The comment made him smirk, but he didn’t respond, his eyes still on his book.

A slow, mischievous smile spread across your lips.

Sliding your fingers beneath the frame of his glasses, you gently pushed them down just enough to reveal his striking red eyes. Before he could protest, you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss between his eyebrows, right at the root of his nose.

Feeling his body tense ever so slightly, you knew your 'attack' was effective. Bingo.

Sylus inhaled through his nose, his grip on the book tightening just a fraction. "I'm trying to read, kitten." he murmured, his voice as smooth as ever.

But you saw the way his ears tinged just the faintest bit red, the way his fingers twitched against the page.

A giggle escaped you and you felt him exhale, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

Sylus shifted, pretending to be unaffected as he grabbed his phone to check what song was playing.

That’s when you saw it. Your gaze flickered to the screen and your teasing smile softened. The playlist title was clear as day.

“Songs That Remind Me of Y/N”

When Sylus noticed where you were looking, his thumb casually covered the screen, as if that would make you unsee it.

You grinned, warmth spreading through your chest. “You big softie.”

He scoffed but didn’t deny it. Instead, he flipped the page of his book, still looking entirely unfazed. But as you glanced down at him, you caught it—the barely-there smile playing at his lips.

Sylus’ free hand moved from your tight to intertwine with your own hand, before bringing it to his lips and plant a soft kiss on your knuckles.

୨ৎ── . Zayne

The clock struck midnight as Zayne stepped into the apartment, exhaustion weighing heavy on his broad shoulders. His dark hair was slightly disheveled from running his hands through it all day, and his sharp green eyes, usually so intense, were dulled with fatigue. But despite the ache in his muscles and the relentless pull of sleep, he made his way to the living room—because he had made a promise.

And Zayne never broke a promise to you.

You were sitting on the couch, papers spread out around the couch and the coffee table, biting your bottom lip in concentration. At the sound of his quiet footsteps, you looked up.

"You're home," you murmured, a mixture of relief and concern in your voice. "Zayne, you look exhausted."

"I'm fine," he said softly, his voice gentle despite the obvious tiredness in his tone. "Let’s get this done."

You sighed, but didn’t argue as he settled beside you, his broad frame sinking into the cushions. He leaned slightly toward you, your shoulders brushing as he picked up a form and started filling it out with his precise handwriting.

Minutes passed in comfortable silence. But with each passing moment, Zayne's pen moved slower, his eyes blinking sluggishly as he fought the exhaustion clawing at him.

Then, without warning, his head dipped forward before he caught himself.

You turned to him, your lips pressing together in fond exasperation. "Zayne…"

"I'm awake," he murmured, but his deep voice was quieter now, softer, laced with drowsiness.

Another few moments passed, and then—he slumped.

His head rested against your shoulder at first, his body leaning heavily into yours, before he finally slid down, laying his head on your lap with a deep exhale. His dark lashes fluttered once before his breathing evened out, the exhaustion finally winning.

You glanced down at him, your expression softening. Even in sleep, he looked serious, but there was a rare peace on his face that made her heart ache.

Gently, you adjusted his position, letting his head rest more comfortably on your lap. You ran your fingers through his black hair, smoothing it back, with a featherlight touch.

With a small smile, you picked up your pen again and continued working in silence, letting him recharge. After a while, you feel a big hand gently squeezing your leg. “You’re such a nice pillow, you know that?”

Zayne looks up at you with only one eye open and a tired but fond smile on his lips.

“Look who woke up! Hi sleepy head.” you tease him, caressing his cheek gently. “I’m almost over with these papers.”

He nodded as a small yawn escaped his lips. “I’m sorry, next time I’ll be more helpful.” he whispered softly before falling asleep on you once again.

୨ৎ── . Rafayel

Rafayel stretched out across the bed, his head resting on your lap, his eyes half-lidded with contentment. The soft fabric of your sweater brushed against his cheek as he exhaled slowly, savoring the warmth of your presence. But something was missing.

Your fingers weren’t running through his hair. You weren’t teasing him with a sly remark. You weren’t paying attention to him at all.

Instead, you were glued to your phone, your delicate fingers tapping away at the screen. Occasionally, you let out a quiet chuckle, further fueling his mild irritation.

Rafayel pouted. "Babe." No response.

He shifted slightly, pressing his forehead against your lap. "Baaaabe."

Still nothing.

A smirk curled at the edge of his lips as an idea formed. He nuzzled against you, his breath warm against your skin. Then, he let out the most dramatic sigh he could muster, his broad shoulders rising and falling with exaggerated defeat.

"Are you really going to ignore your very handsome, very lovely boyfriend, who just wants a little attention?" his voice was laced with playful desperation.

You hummed absently, still not looking up. "Mhm. Sounds tragic."

Rafayel gasped, clutching his chest as if you had mortally wounded him. "Tragic?! This is abuse, beloved. I'm starving for affection."

You snorted, shifting your head the slightest to peer down at him.

“Put your phone down..” he murmured, drawing patterns on your thighs with his fingers.

He was pouting, so you followed his instructions. “Yes?”

A grin tugs at the corner of his lips. “Hi gorgeous.” he smirks, as you grab his pretty face between your hands.

“You really become a brat if I don’t give you attention for five minutes, don’t you?” you chuckle, brushing your thumbs along his cheekbones.

A pleased rumble vibrated from his chest as he closed his eyes, leaning into her touch.

"Yes," Rafayel declared, looking up at you with the biggest, most pitiful puppy-dog eyes his irises could manage. "Because my beautiful, sarcastic, heartless partner is ignoring me."

You bit your lip, trying—and failing—to suppress a laugh. "You are so dramatic."

"And yet you love me," he shot back, smirking before going back to leaving pecks on her legs.

You feign a sigh, when you feel him playfully biting your skin.

“Ouch!” you immediately half-heartedly slap his forehead, while he laughs amused by his actions.

“Stop it or I’m gonna crush your skull.” you playfully glare at him, but he just shrugs.

“A nice way to leave this world, not gonna lie.”

He proceeded to nibble her thigh again, so you squeeze his head between your legs, chuckling.

“Now beg.” you challenge him, raising one eyebrow. But he simply cackled, pressing a slow, lazy kiss to your thigh. "You really think I’m gonna complain about this?"

୨ৎ── . Xavier

The door clicked shut softly and Xavier stepped inside, his frame carrying an air of quiet exhaustion. His light-colored hair was slightly tousled, his big blue eyes dimmer than usual, lost in some distant thought. He didn’t say a word.

You knew this version of him well. The one that withdrew into silence when something weighed on his mind. He was lost in his own thoughts, tangled up in emotions he didn’t know how to put into words.

So you didn’t ask. Didn’t press. Instead, you took his hand, gently tugging him toward the bed. Xavier hesitated for a second before letting you guide him, his shoulders relaxing just a little under your touch. You pulled him down until he was lying on top of you, his head resting against your lap as you softly ran your hands through his hair.

With a small smile, you let your fingers drift from his hair down to his back, as you began tracing invisible shapes against the fabric of his shirt. At first, you just doodled—little swirls, hearts, nonsense patterns—letting him feel your presence without forcing him to talk.

Then, slowly, you spelled out the words.

I love you.

A heartbeat passed. Then another. You felt his breath hitch ever so slightly, his tense shoulders easing as if a weight had been lifted. So you kept going, tracing a small heart at the end.

Xavier shifted, turning his head just enough so he could glance up at you, his deep blue eyes no longer clouded. A soft, almost bashful smile ghosted his lips. Then, without warning, he rolled over, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer in a way that was both shy and desperate.

His face was buried against your neck now, and you could feel his breath warm against your skin. Finally, he spoke—his voice quiet, but steady.

"…Again," he murmured.

You blinked. "Again?"

He nodded against you, his grip tightening slightly. A soft laugh escaped your lips before you resumed your gentle tracing of sweet nothings and hearts.

୨ৎ── . Caleb

Caleb sighed dramatically as he rested his back against the couch, his broad frame comfortably settled between your legs on the plush carpet. Your fingers worked gently through his thick brown hair, separating strands to weave into intricate braids. Every now and then, you’d clip a tiny butterfly or flower pin into place, giggling to yourself at how utterly adorable he looked.

He loved this. The feeling of your hands in his hair, your presence surrounding him. But there was one small problem.

He couldn't sit still.

His hands roamed absentmindedly, his fingers lightly tracing over the soft skin of your thighs. The warmth of your legs bracketing him was too tempting to ignore. Without thinking, he pressed a slow, lingering kiss to her knee, then another, higher this time.

You huffed, tightening your grip on his hair just slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to warn him. "Caleb. Stop moving."

He grinned. "But you're so soft" he murmured against your skin, his lips brushing along the inside of your thigh now. "How am I supposed to resist?"

You rolled your eyes, though he couldn’t see it. "You're not supposed to try to resist. You're supposed to sit still and let me finish your hair."

Caleb chuckled, but he didn’t stop. His hands squeezed your legs gently, thumbs stroking the inside of your thighs in slow, teasing circles. "M’sorry, baby," he muttered, though he didn’t sound sorry at all. "You're just really distracting."

"I’m distracting?" You scoffed. "You’re the one squirming like a hyperactive puppy while I’m trying to make you pretty."

"Hm..pretty, huh?" He smirked, tilting his head back against your stomach, his striking purple eyes gazing up at you. "Does that mean you're finally admitting you like playing with my hair?"

You flicked his forehead, making him laugh. "I've always liked playing with your hair. I just don't like when you make it impossible to finish."

"Okay, okay." Caleb raised his hands in surrender. "I'll behave."

"Good." You started braiding again, your fingers moving deftly through his locks. For about ten seconds, he actually sat still. Then his lips ghosted over your thigh once more, this time leaving a soft bite.

"Caleb!" He burst out laughing, his shoulders shaking with amusement. "I tried to behave, I really did," he said between chuckles. But then he finally stopped moving around and let you finish your masterpiece. “Wanna grab something to eat later?”

“But it took me so long to make these braids.” you pout slightly, already sad at the idea of having to remove all the cute clips from his hair.

“Who said I’m gonna take them out? Everyone needs to see what an amazing job you did!”

Xavier (Lumiere) | Shimmering Moonlight Event Playlist

Twilight's Dawn Full Myth Another Dawnbreak Mini Stories Midnight Rainfall Kindled Midnight Whisper Kindled

The night is still young... and here i am sitting and rethinking everything ... i love xavier... and like him before i even played the game and i couldn't pin point exactly what drew me to him the most .. even after sylus and caleb came out ... i am loyal to this man ... a bit too much

And now i can play the game and ya .. just..

It is very well written about his characteristics and his personality and i do know and have seen to tumblr how people mischaracterize him ..

Well.. after everything .. the man underneath all the mask is who i resonate and relate to and love as well.. even if he is a game character .. he bring comfort and joy to me and lightens up my day even if by 10 per cent ..

I would say.. this man is also an introvert and doesnt really like talking about himself therefore ..

The original person whose writing i am reblogging

Hats off in trying to understand him and put it so beautifully in words ...

Enjoy my rant about this man

As much as I also laugh and joke about Xavier being jealous of Lumiere, I also absolutely get it. So be prepared because I have THOUGHTS.

✨ In defense of Xavier ✨

I cannot speak for all his jealousy, but I can speak on my own interpretation. Unfortunately, since I joined in October, I completely missed his Lumiere myth. I also don’t want to spoil myself too much in case I get the rerun, so some of this is just my own interpretation based on his character.

But I don’t think Xavier is explicitly jealous of *himself,* guys. I think when he asks “Who do you like more, me or Lumiere?” He’s not asking it literally. He is asking the main character, he is asking us as the player, “Do you like me or do you like the mask I wear?”

Now, I’m biased. I actually wrote a drabble on this concept for Victoria with her first (and still canon!) love interest from Ninjago, Lloyd. There’s some character parallels here I won’t go into detail with. But that was a topic the two had to navigate at first. Being the object of so many peoples’ affections while in an alter ego can absolutely raise a lot of questions. And in this example, Lloyd was wondering if Victoria was in love with the persona he has to put up for public perception, or the person he truly was. Of course Victoria loved him for him, not for the mask.

I think Xavier is doing the same here.

Xavier is a crown prince. He’s a vigilante. He’s a hero. But at the end of the day he is XAVIER. He’s gone through so many jobs, so many roles, he’s worn down many different masks. Someone falling in love with the mask is the last thing he wants. I was discussing this with my therapist the other day, that’s something that drew me to both Rafayel and Xavier.

They both have masks, literal and figurative, that they hide behind. Falling in love with the mask does nothing. It’s the person underneath that’s more important. It’s why Rafayel asks “Will you still love me, no matter who I become?” It’s why Xavier asks who the main character prefers, him or Lumiere. It speaks to my own life as someone placed on a pedestal, constantly wearing a mask of perfection and untouchability. It irritates me when people claim to have feelings for me when they haven’t found the person behind the mask. It shows they’ve fallen in love with an idea of me, not with who I am as a person.

I’ll gladly make jokes about his own jealousy too, but there’s a lot more to it. It frustrates me to see all of the love interests mischaracterized or even outright demonized.

So, in defense of Xavier, when he asks if you like him or Lumiere more, keep in mind.

Are you in love with the man, or the mask?

LADS men and their green flags

Rafayel

Reassurance

He never lets you wonder if he still loves you, if he still finds you attractive. You don’t even have the chance to finish the horrible thought before he’s complimenting you, telling you how much he adores you. He’s not afraid to bare his heart to you, in fact, he does it quite often with sweet nothings and tiny notes left in your purse. Though he may never be able to express the depth of his love for you, he’s sure as hell going to try.

Xavier

Communication

While he may seem reserved, Xavier has no problem talking through an issue with you. He doesn’t fight - he refuses to. He’s calm, collected. He never wants you to feel unheard, so he listens, even when you feel like you’re talking in circles. You’re not going to bed upset on his watch. He’ll sit with you for as long as you need. He wants you to feel at ease with him, always, even when your thoughts are going a million miles an hour.

Zayne

Support

He doesn’t offer guidance in the way a parent would, but rather, in a way that ensures you’re always feeling your best. Too tired to cook dinner? He’s got it. Don’t feel like washing your hair? Sit down, he’ll handle it. He encourages you to take breaks when you feel like the weight of the world is crushing you. When you feel like your to-do list is simply too long, he shortens it, taking care of as many things as he can so that you can relax. He’d rather die than let you be stressed.

Sylus

Protection

One thing’s for sure, you’ll never feel unsafe around him - physically or emotionally. The strange man that’s been following you? Taken care of. The guy sending lewd texts to your DMs? Vanished. And while your physical safety is of the utmost important to him, your emotional wellbeing doesn’t go uncared for. Pour out your soul to him, he’s listening. And when you can’t, lean on him, cry on his shoulder. He won’t move.

Caleb

Attentive

If you think you can hide anything from him, you’re sorely mistaken. He notices every micro expression, every slight change in your tone, the way your hands fidget when you’re anxious. He knows exactly what to do to bring your smile back. He picks up on the tiny hints you give him when you want something, and he’s eager to provide it. You’ll never lack anything as long as he’s around, he’ll make sure of it.

A Very Good Day🍃

Prompt : In a cozy mountain chalet, you and Xavier escapes the chaos of everyday life, enjoying lazy mornings and homemade breakfasts. Genre: Fluff Warnings: slight suggestive content Words count : 1506

The small things you notice when you wake up is the gentle warmth of the sun warming the white sheets, the sweet breeze slipping into the room through the French window making the curtains fly before settling into the crook of your neck, and the comforting smell of breakfast in the making.

It’s mainly this smell that pushes you to get out of this cozy bed, your appetite being stronger than your need for relaxation. You escape the covers, taking a moment to stretch before leaving the bedroom.

It was going to be a very good day; you were sure of it.

Your bare feet caress the wooden floor of the chalet you rented in the mountains at three hours from Linkon City, you were told it was the best spot to stargaze at this time of year. You wanted to spend time with your boyfriend without having to think about all the responsibilities you had back in Linkon, the last year had been hectic enough. Well, no use thinking about it for now, let's get back to your boyfriend.

As you step into the room, the smell you were following since you were awake washed over you, but now you could distinguish it more subtly, it was a mix of bread toasting, the smell of red beans and scrambled eggs. There was some jazz playing in the background, and you could also feel the heat of the sun reverberating through the windows of the living room, the kitchen of the rental being open, it opened directly onto this room with a cozy atmosphere.

Your eyes finally paused on the back of Xavier, and what a back, he was wearing a plain white t-shirt clinging to his skin in some place, probably because of the steam who had gradually settled in the room. Your eyes travelled down his body, his soft hair, his strong arms, those little shorts that highlighted his legs... and not only his legs. You approached him discreetly, before sneaking your arms around his back, nestling your face against him, smelling the perfume you bought him for the new year. His body tensed up a little before letting out a soft, husky laugh as he took one of your hands to kiss it. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead” he whispered before letting go of your hand.

“You’re the sleepyhead in the relationship” you teased, squeezing him a bit tighter. It was common knowledge that Xavier slept a lot, but you didn't hold it against him, he was one of the best, if not the best, Deepspace Hunter.

“Maybe but you’re the one waking up after me, so you’re the official sleepyhead today” he responded smiling before going back to his cooking. You stood on tiptoe to look at what he was doing, resting your head on his shoulders to find some balance, he was folding some dough.

"What are you doing?" you asked, trying to reach for the dough but unable to grab it as his body acted like a dam between you and the dough.

“Some Red Bean Buns, with some toasts and scrambled eggs… don’t touch” he said laughing, pushing gently your hand away.

“Please” you purred, pressing a kiss against his neck and sliding a hand under his shirt, caressing his belly and tracing his abs.

He melted against your touch, grabbing back your wrist and holding it against him. “No, you go back to bed, and I handle the breakfast, I promise I won’t burn anything this time.” He turned toward you, moving your hand to his upper back before crouching slightly, sliding his arms around you and kissing your lips softly.

 It was your turn to melt, you closed your eyes, losing yourself in the kiss before you felt a thick texture on the tip of your nose, you opened back your eyes in surprise, looking straight into the mischievous gaze of the culprit.

“What is it?” you asked, pouting before moving one of your hands from under Xavier’s shirt, touching the thing on your nose and looking at the reddish-brown paste on your finger.

“Red bean paste, I told you I was making buns, right?” he replied before licking the tip of your finger. You looked at him like he just killed someone. “Why do you look at me like that?” he smiled, pinching slightly your cheek.

“You just tricked me and then you steal my paste, who am I in love with ?!” you joked, taking a step back dramatically, clutching your imaginary pearls.

“A monster, now go back to bed” he said, rolling his eyes with an exasperated smile.

“I’m going back to bed because I decided to, not because you told me” You said with a face falsely annoyed, leaving the room before coming back a few seconds later, sticking your head out from behind the hallway wall. Xavier tilting his head back to look at you.

“I love you” you grinned before disappearing behind the wall, walking down the hallway you heard him replying to you. “I love you too!” he exclaimed loudly enough to make sure you heard him. Xavier usually had a soft-spoken tone, so as you let yourself fall on the fluffy bed, you can’t stop yourself from kicking your feet and giggling.

Ten minutes had passed since you went back to bed, you were scrolling on your phone while enjoying the sun. You heard the door opened, his back walking before the rest of his body as he walked into the room backward, turning around once the door was closed.

“Good morning, again, Miss” he walked toward the bed, holding the plate carefully, settling down on the cover, making sure not a thing spilled. You looked at the plate more closely, there were some of those delicious buns he was making,a few toasts, some with jam and butter and others with avocado and salmon, the scrambled eggs were in a big egg-shaped bowl.

“Look at this feast! You outdone yourself!” You grab his arm pulling him in bed, next to you, his weight making the glasses of juices almost spilling. “Oops, sorry” you said as he carefully leaned back against the headboard.

“But you didn’t even eat anything yet.” he grabbed one of the buns, splitting it in half and giving you a piece of it, the smell was divine.

“Mmmh, that’s so good!” you moaned as you took a bite, the soft dough and the red beans paste melting against your palate.

“If you continue to make those noises while we eat, I think we will have to postpone breakfast for a few hours.”

You almost choke as you looked back at him, he was innocently tilting his head before starting eating his bun.

“Xavier! You can’t say that while I’m eating!” you laughed, playfully hitting his arm.

“I did breakfast, I have all the right my dear.” He kissed your cheek before reaching for the juice.

You spend the rest of the morning eating those delicious delicacies, while speaking about everything and teasing each other, as always.

It was now the afternoon, a little rain was cooling the weather, the breeze still moving the curtains of the room. You and Xavier held each other close, your head resting on his shoulder, one of your legs wrapped around his, his arm around your shoulders while the other was holding a book. You were helping him, turning the pages when he needed to.

“And done.” He put the book on the bedside table, he had just finished the new book he bought at the library last week.

“So, was it as interesting as you thought?” you asked, hugging him tightly.

“Yeah, it was but I have a more interesting right…” he touched the tip of your nose “here.”

He turned toward you rapidly. You let out a yelp of surprise as he positioned himself in such a way that you ended up beneath him. He didn’t waste a second before trailing a series of soft kisses across your face. When he finally kissed your lips, you pulled him into a more languorous kiss, your legs wrapping around his waist pushing him into you.

His hands found his way under your shirt, while yours ended up on the back of his neck. His warm hands were a contrast with the coldness of your body, making you both shivered.

 You tried to pull back from the kiss to catch your breath, but he trapped you bottom lip between his teeth. “I guess” a kiss “the breakfast” a kiss “was not enough” another kiss “for you because I feel like you trying” an encore kiss “to devour me” you ended up saying breathlessly, a smile on your face.

“What can I say?” He nestled his face in the crook of your neck. “I’m an insatiable man’’ you felt him smirk against your skin as he said that before you felt his hands travel down your body.

It was going to be a very good day; you were sure of it. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ A/N : it was my first long fic i hope you all enjoyed it ! 💖