Luke And Kieran X Assassin!reader

♡ — luke and kieran x assassin!reader

content : fluff, suggestive (like you have to squint), nonmc!reader, reader contexted to have killed ppl, idk luke and kieran being adorable, more or less the twins x reader

authors note : i havent written stuff in a year hope we're somewhat back in the game. idk I love luke and kieran and this idea has been buzzing about since I met them in game, and ik it says assassin but assistant felt too icky to call reader so yeah, enjoy pls <3

♡ — assassin!reader who, in her vulnerable youth, was taken under the wing of onychinus's mysterious leader, revealing a hidden purpose and destiny within her.

♡ — assassin!reader who quickly fell in line when an opportunity arose, casting aside her former recklessness as a besieged street rat, employing such developed cunning senses to eliminate anyone who dared interfere with the hailed leader of onychinus.

♡ — assassin!reader who was treated no differently than the others, used as a strategic asset in those dull meetings the sylus ordered her to attend, some remarking on the irony that no one in that overly cologned room took a woman seriously, even if she stood beside onychinus's revered leader.

♡ — assassin!readerwho only sighed at the memory of the last meeting as her boss spoke humorously. those who dared to push their limits with him, feeling a boost of superiority against one man in his lonesome and some unseen woman, lay with their throats slit as she returned to stand beside her seated superior, her actions displayed as a brief warning to those who tried to think the same.

♡ — assassin!reader who had to refrain her walls of stoicism from falling when she was handed her very own crow mask, briefed that she would be under his direct commands, no other.

♡ — assassin!reader who after a few months of securing a spot directly under sylus’s hand, was introduced to her previously unknown, equally skilled comrades, luke and kieran—the infamous twins of onychinus—immediately affirming such with her new uniform, smaller but just as tactile copy of theirs.

♡ — assassin!reader who quickly learned the personalities she was forced to interact and work with daily, distinguishing between the vigorous, unpredictable nature of the older brother, Luke, and the calmer, more soothing demeanour of Kieran.

♡ — assassin!reader who while navigating these complex dynamics, found herself constantly adjusting herself, carefully tailoring her walls to stay upright as she interacted with the pair careful to not stitch herself into their lives, wanting no more than to rely only on herself, all while maintaining her unwavering loyalty to sylus.

♡ — assassin!reader who finds it increasingly hard to hold up these walls as she works with the pair, finding herself alongside the two during their free time, relaxing in one of sylus’s penthouses, awaiting his next command to fill the boredom that overshadows the three.

♡ — assassin!reader who isn’t respected by a selection of lower-ranked members due to her status of being a highly-ranked woman in onychinus, her name slandered continuously among the workplace.

♡ — assassin!reader who finds herself watching the twins with a mix of admiration and surprise as the two yank a man out of his chair, their aura cold and menacing. their victim, refusing to acknowledge her high rank, accompanied by a moment of foolishness calling her a bitch during a meeting the three were conducting. all triggered by her blunt criticism of his team’s failure to deliver the required number of protocores on time, fuelling the brothers' anger, actively threatening his life with a gun to his head unless he supplied an apology on his knees within the next five seconds.

♡ — assassin!reader who gradually comes to the profound realization of the deep significance the twins hold in her life, a startling epiphany triggered by a harrowing near-death experience on what should have been an ordinary mission gone south.

♡ — assassin!reader who often perches on a high-rise rooftop after successful missions, gazing over the mist-shrouded N109 zone. only recently finding herself joined by the twins, a result of their collaboration over the past few weeks.

♡ — assassin!reader who suddenly finds herself looking for the pair during her scarce free time, looking for the mix of comforting personalities to fill her boredom.

♡ — assassin!reader who finds herself swept up in their mischievous antics, reluctantly pressed against a wall corner alongside them, watching as an unsuspecting newcomer to onychinus gets a face full of pie upon opening the shared base fridge.

♡ — assassin!reader who finds her cheeks reddening as her two companions casually speculate about her appearance, pulling guesses on the colour and texture of her hair, her supposed eye colour and its shape, all while she attempts to avoid their curious eyes on her.

♡ — assassin!reader who silently prayed to whatever deity was watching, begging for an open grave to swallow her whole as luke reached out to hold her, thankfully, masked face, forcing it still in an attempt to peer past the red slits that lay over her eyes.

♡ — assassin!reader horrifyingly wishes she could jump off this very rooftop they resided on as kirean casually chimes into the conversation some more, audibly wondering about her form in outfits that weren't the current uniforms displayed. he shrugs it off, only adding fuel to the fire as he stretches on how he knows that 'you’re a beauty either way behind that mask', luke places the foreseen cherry on top as he agrees with his younger brother so casually, finally letting go of her burning face.

♡ — assassin!reader can only stare at the back of their heads as they both turn away from her, looking down at the streets below as if this was the most normal thing in the world

Hello! I love your writing sm!

If your requests are open may I rq mc taking care of a burned out or overwhelmed Rafayel? I feel like he's always there for mc but she doesn't get to return the favor often.

Maybe her figuring out how to make him relax and feel better after a particularly bad day/week. ty! <3

Taking care of a fishie

Rafayel X Reader

Summary: When you go to visit Rafayel during a storm, you realize something isn't quite right. He's upset, dealing with a storm of his own as he works, and you decide he needs to take a break. It's up to you to take care of him.

Word Count: 3892

Note: So..........this kind of took on it's own life. It got a little angstier than I'm sure you intended for in your request, anon, but it's still mostly just a lot of fluff and comfort. I really enjoyed writing it, though his dialogue takes time for me to work out. Still! I hope you like it!

Also, I will die on the hill of calling Rafayel "fishie". Sorry not sorry, I think it's so cute.

---

Stepping into the studio is like stepping into a storm. Instead of its usual light atmosphere, the air feels thick and heavy. You can almost feel the static tension crackling along your skin. An actual storm can be seen out the windows, creeping along the coast outside at a threatening pace, casting shadows that make the space feel cold and eerie.

“Rafayel?” You call out into the dimly lit front hall.

No response. All you can hear is the distant sound of harsh brush strokes on a canvas. 

Of course he’s working. The world could end and Rafayel would still be working. Though he doesn’t sound…happy about it. Concern slowly twines around your chest as you make your way deeper into the studio, towards the sound. The usual mess is somehow worse - fruits, paints, and brushes scattered everywhere, along with crinkled balls of paper and tape. You guess this storm was a tornado.

As you expect, you find Rafayel where he usually works. He’s deep into a painting, his brush moving ruthlessly across the canvas. His movements are jerky and unnatural, yet robotically precise. Almost…apathetic. 

Unease prickles under your skin.

It’s nothing like the evenings you’ve spent watching Rafayel paint, when his motions are slow and hypnotic, his focus always so intense but gentle. You could watch him for hours as he brings life to a painting, each brush stroke a breath into existence. This - this is nothing like that. This feels more like anger, bristling and hot, just like the colors slicing across the canvas. There’s no hint of the beautiful, dulcet tones of blue he loves to use. Instead, it’s almost a violent clash of fire and steel and blood. 

Your unease grows with each strike he adds.

Something is definitely wrong.

He’s so focused, Rafayel doesn’t even notice you coming up behind him, not until you curl your arms around his waist. The artist goes tense under your touch, brush freezing against the canvas.

“Hey, fishie,” you greet, voice impossibly soft, hesitant, “I think maybe it’s time to take a break…”

Oh, that’s a tempting thought for him. Rafayel’s eyes flutter shut as he takes a moment to focus on the feeling of your body against his. Your touch is so warm and comforting, like being enveloped by the perfect heated blanket, drawing his attention to just how sore he feels. A bone-deep ache settles in his muscles, reminding him of the deep-set anger simmering in his blood. 

His jaw clenches as he levels the painting with a glare, “No time. I have to finish this.” 

You don’t even blink at the bite in his tone. It’s not meant for you.

“Raf, you look like you’re seconds away from stabbing the painting. And like you haven’t slept in days,” you note, scanning the bags under his ocean eyes. A frown flickers across his lips as he looks away. “You need a break and you know it. Come on.”

“This is just the way artists work,” he grumbles, waving his paintbrush dismissively, “There’s no such thing as time when it comes to inspiration. Unless there’s enough money, apparently.”

His comment makes you tilt your head, eyes narrowing. It’s not playful or simply dramatic like he usually talks. Instead, you hear a thin note of bitterness, as sharp as his wit. And it tells you all you need to know.

“Nope.” 

You click your tongue and snatch the paintbrush from his hands. Rafayel squawks, turning to you with an almost offended look as you drop it in a nearby can of paint. His lips part, and you can tell he’s getting ready to put up a fight, but you don’t even let him start, shooing him off the stool.

“Nope, nope, off you go. You’re going to take a break and a shower,” you insist, pushing him towards his room.

Rafayel gapes at you, and then tries to duck out and around your firm grip, “Cutie, I really can’t-”

“Nope, I’m not hearing it, Rafayel,” you chirp, not unkindly, and block his path when he whirls around. 

The man can be more stubborn than a mule sometimes, and it’s best to fight fire with fire. He plants his feet, crossing his arms over his chest with that exaggerated pout, the one that usually makes you give in to all his whims because you can’t deny such a cute, little fish. You hold your ground, though, raising a brow at him. It’s a stand-off. His stubbornness against your desire to take care of him. And you’re going to win.

After a few seconds, Rafayel scrunches his nose, glancing between you and his unfinished painting. If he really wanted to he could probably overpower you, if only for a second, and get back to his work. But the look you give him, eyes wide and earnest, a deep ocean of concern that threatens to pull him under, makes what little is left of his resolve crumble.

“I really need to finish it,” he tries again weakly.

“You need a break,” you respond decisively, “so we’re taking a break.”

“But-”

“Nope.”

“I just-”

“Nope!”

The artist wilts like a kicked puppy. For a moment, though, you swear a flicker of relief passes through his tired eyes. Like he didn’t really want to keep working anyways. It makes your heart clench.

A little more gently this time, you turn Rafayel around and lead him to his bathroom. He doesn’t put up a fight this time, allowing you to leave him perched on the counter of the sink while you go about preparing the shower. You can feel his eyes on you as you move around, the only sound in the room coming from the water steadily hitting the shower’s glass walls, and the distant roll of thunder.

There aren’t many times you’ve witnessed Rafayel being quiet. He usually likes to chatter, no matter what you’re doing, whether it be about a painting, or something he saw on a trip to the city, or a story about Lumerians. This silence is unsettling. Another storm, on the brink of breaking. That feeling grips your chest, tight and cold, despite the warm steam curling around you, filling the room.

When you glance back at Rafayel, your eyes meet. He’s still watching you, an indecipherable look on his face. He looks somehow more exhausted, his skin ghostly pale, eyes dull with a look of…defeat. 

It’s wrong. Everything is wrong. And you want to make it right.

Stepping over to him, Rafayel spreads his knees a fraction wider so you can settle between them. One of your hands finds the line of his hip, the other resting against the soft curve of his cheek to draw him close. Rafayel lets out a stuttering breath. You touch him with such tenderness, such love, it makes his head swim, makes him feel like he’s drowning yet undeniably safe, all at once. Everything else fades away, leaving just the two of you, surrounded by a soft haze of steam and the low light of his bathroom.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” you murmur, so quiet he can hardly hear you over the sound of the shower, “but you know I care about you, right? I’m not trying to be mean to you, I’m just….”

Worried.

Rafayel softens. Of course you’d worry. You’re the only one that would for someone like him. His own personal angel, sent to drag him from the depths over and over and over again. Reaching up, he traces your brow almost reverently, easing the wrinkle between them.

When he talks, his voice is raspy and low, “What a fool I must be, making such a beautiful face look so concerned.”

“You’re not a fool,” you chide disapprovingly, “You’ve never been a fool, Rafayel. You’re just…a little self destructive at times, like we all are. But that’s why I’m here. I’m happy to be the one worrying about you, fishie. I’m happy to take care of you. If you’ll let me.”

Another emotion you don’t recognize flashes behind Rafayel’s eyes. He hums quietly, the tension slowly dripping from his shoulders, and turns to nuzzle into your palm. You inhale sharply, heart fluttering when his lips press against your skin, lingering yet hesitant. And when he looks back at you, there’s so much warmth, so much affection in his gaze, that you almost feel yourself melt.

“Please take good care of me then, miss bodyguard,” he murmurs, a ghost of that familiar smile on his lips, “ I leave my wellbeing in your capable hands.”

The heat that creeps up your cheeks matches the blush warming his ears. What a pair you are. 

“Then let’s get you in the shower,” you hum, voice a little shaky (though you’ll deny it), and card your fingers fondly through his messy hair. “I’ll get you some comfy clothes and make you some food. I’m sure you haven’t eaten all day.”

“Mmm, am I that predictable?”

“Only to me.”

You lean up and press a chaste kiss against his cheek. As you pull away, though, Rafayel catches your chin, slotting his lips over yours. It's a slow and overwhelmingly gentle kiss, devotion bleeding with fondness, raw and vulnerable and filled with a yearning that makes you dizzy. You can barely catch your breath when you pull away, the heat in Rafayel’s gaze nearly making you toss out the rest of your plans for the night.

“Take a shower,” you whisper, breathless, quickly separating yourself from the tempting man in front of you.

You still catch a glimpse of his smirk as you dip past the door, though.

Closing it behind you, you steady yourself against the wall, taking a deep breath. The sounds of him shuffling inside, followed by the soft clink of his shower door closing, lets you know that he’s at least listened to your instructions. Your racing heart gets a slight reprieve, then.

Alright. 

Slapping your cheeks lightly, you bring your focus back to the present. Even if he seems a little more himself, there’s still a lot to do. Rafayel deserves the world, and you’re determined to give it to him. As much as you can at least. Starting with comfortable clothes and a good meal.

You duck into his closet, picking out a particularly soft looking pair of sweats and a light button up. Maybe some socks too, you think as you remember just how cold he felt. Rafayel usually prefers to go barefoot, but you pick a pair of thick socks, just in case he wants them. Everything gets laid out on his bed, ready for when he finishes his shower.

Next - food.

Digging through Rafayel’s fridge is a mostly fruitless effort. Well, not fruitless. In fact, there’s plenty of fruit, only fruit really. Amusement curls in your chest. You’ll have to take him grocery shopping tomorrow and maybe have a conversation about a balanced diet. Luckily, you find some pasta in the pantry, and the basics you need to make a decent sauce. Maybe you can cut up some of the fruit too and make a little snack board.

Plan devised in your head, you set about making it happen. 

You’re in the middle of finishing the sauce when Rafayel silently pads into the kitchen. He looks a little more lively, cheeks flushed, eyes bright with curiosity as he shuffles up behind you. Slowly curling his arms around your waist, he draws you back against his body so he can nuzzle into the crook of your neck.

“Smells good,” he murmurs, breath tickling your skin.

You hum, one hand falling to rest over his, “I hope so. It’s nothing special, but it should help you feel better.”

“Anything these hands make can be special.” His fingers trace over your knuckles lovingly. “It just has to mean something to you. It’s only when it means nothing to you that a creation becomes insignificant.”

A part of you wonders if Rafayel realizes how transparent he is being. That, or you’ve just become so familiar with all his habits that you can just tell. To you, reading him is like reading your favorite book, and this is as obvious as a missing page.

But you don’t want to address it just yet. “Ready to eat?”

“Hmm, will you feed me?” He draws back to look at you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

It takes everything in you to smother a smile. While you don’t often entertain Rafayel’s games, sometimes it’s nice to play along, if only to see him blush when you turn it on him. And today feels like one of those days. So you plaster on the most exaggerated, concerned look you can muster, flipping in his arms to cup his face.

“Do you need me to? Are you that tired?” You coo at him, satisfaction washing over you when his ears burn vermilion red. How cute. “Aw, my poor fishie. You’ve been working too hard, I knew it. Guess I’ll just have to tell Thomas that I’m holding you captive to make sure you get enough rest.”

“You’re teasing me,” Rafayel whines, the rest of his face flushing.

“Only partially,” you giggle, leaning up to peck his lips, “You always turn so red, it’s adorable.”

“I’m not adorable,” he grumbles back, “I’m handsome. Some would even say dashingly so.”

“Of course.” Mirth dances in your eyes. “My dashing prince. So I guess that makes me the knight coming to your rescue.”

He turns somehow darker, gaze darting away, “Even a prince needs caring for sometimes…”

“Yes, they do,” your voice softens, and you press another kiss to his cheek, “Now come, my prince, let’s eat and then we’re going to lay down on the couch and watch a movie so you can relax, okay?”

Rafayel is surprisingly cooperative for the rest of the night. You do end up feeding him a few bites, teasingly wiping at his mouth just to watch him blush again. But with every tender touch, no matter how teasing, you can see him slowly start to relax. His smile becomes a little more genuine, what’s left of the tension in his shoulder melting away. And you love it. You love taking care of him, spoiling him, if only for the night.

By the time you’ve finished dinner and cleaned up, the storm has finally made its way over the studio. Rain drums against the windows as you lead him to the lounge, streaks of lightning filling the room with flashes of light. It’s just the two of you, isolated from the outside world, lost in the warmth of the coastal storm. No one’s going to bother you tonight.

Or so you thought.

You curl into the corner of the couch, holding your hand out for Rafayel, waiting. Just as he’s about to collapse onto you, to finally put the day behind him, his phone comes to life on the side table. Its ring pierces through the relative quiet of the studio, startling both of you. Thomas. Rafayel’s face immediately falls at the name, and he hesitates at the edge of the couch, so close but still so far. In the dim candlelight, you watch his eyes waver, glancing back at the doorway.

“Rafayel.”

They flicker back to you. A flash of lightning illuminates his face, and for an instant, you see dread stain his beautiful features, pleading and desperate. It breaks your heart. 

“It can wait, Rafayel,” you whisper, somehow feeling just as desperate. Desperate to take him away from whatever it is that’s making him feel like this. Desperate to let him know he can rest. “Whatever it is, it can wait. Just…stay. Please.”

He glances back at the phone. It vibrates against the marble table, over and over and over, and you wait with baited breath. Until it goes silent. Still, he doesn’t move.

Slowly, so slowly, you reach forward. When your fingers tentatively intertwine with his, Rafayel takes a deep, uneven breath. And when you give his hand a gentle pull, he crumbles.

Rafayel lets you pull him onto the couch wordlessly. You make him lay down, head on your lap, while his arms curl tightly back around your waist. His grip is almost crushing, his fingers going pale as he wraps them in the back of your sweater, like you’ll disappear. Or like someone might try to tear him away.

Not that you would ever let that happen.

A heavy silence rests over the two of you. Not suffocating, but thick with unspoken words. What words, you’re not sure. They seem to rest at the tip of your tongue, but you can’t make sense of what you wish you could say, or even if you should say anything at all. It doesn’t quite feel right.

So you settle for waiting and start brushing your fingers through his unruly, damp curls, working out the tangles. Rafayel shivers at the sensation, the gentle tug at his roots, the pleasant tingle it leaves behind. He focuses on it, breath catching whenever your nails trace along the back of his neck. Desperate for another anchor point, his hands slip under your sweater to press against your skin. 

You gasp at his cold touch, movements wavering.

“Don’t stop,” Rafayel immediately pleads, voice cracking.

God, the things you would do for this man.

You continue without a word, and the artist hums, practically purrs. He’s remarkably like a cat, despite how much he hates the animals. Clingier, though. Much clingier. And you will never admit how much you love it.

You’re not sure how much time passes like that. Time never works quite the way it should when you’re with Rafayel. Seconds feel like days and days feel like seconds. His hair is dry. The rain is light, now tapping a quieter rhythm against the windows. The thunder sounds farther off. His chest rises so steadily, you almost wonder if Rafayel has fallen asleep.

Until he finally breaks the silence.

“It’s a commission from the mayor.”

You blink. The words process slowly in your mind, a frown forming on your lips. He continues before you can say anything, though, and once he starts, it seems he can’t turn it off.

“Thomas accepted it without asking me. He said the money was too good to pass up, as if I don’t have enough already.” Rafayel’s voice bleeds with such pure vitriol, you’re almost taken aback. You’ve never heard him so…angry. “It’s for his nephew. You’d hate him. He’s no better than a wanderer, preying on helpless people for profit.”

Understanding washes over you.

No wonder he’s upset.

Rumors have spread like wildfire about the nephew of Linkon City’s mayor. Sexual assault allegations. Financial fraud. None of it has been proven in court, but that hardly means they’re not true. It just means he has the power to avoid the consequences.

“I told Thomas to refuse it, but he insisted business is business and he’d already taken the money. As if my art is just business and money. As if inspiration can be bought. Like I can be bought.”

“Rafayel…” You start, a lump forming in your throat.

“It’s like when they used to capture us.” His voice remains thick with bitterness, shaking as he talks. “Humans would pay such high prices for us Lumerians.  Just for entertainment, to show off their status and power. Dead or alive, it made no difference, we meant nothing to them. This painting represents the blood of my people, but to him, it will mean nothing.”

You’re not sure if an aether core can break, but you’re certain you feel something shatter in your chest. It hurts. Seeing Rafayel like this, feeling him shake in your arms, hurts. You’ve never seen him so fragile, so trapped.

And you hate it.

“Rafayel, listen to me.” 

You touch his chin, drawing his burning gaze up to you. He looks torn between tears and brutality. The man who’s held you through your worst nights, and the one who can take life as easily as he creates beauty. Always torn in two and living under the weight of expectation. You can’t stand it.

“You have a choice here,” you murmur, tone insistent, “This is your work. It’s the way you speak to the world. You don’t have to share it with people who don’t deserve it. If this is the hill you want to stand on, then I’ll stand with you, and I’ll make sure you always have the freedom to choose.” A weak smile pulls at your lips. “I wouldn’t be much of a bodyguard or partner if I couldn’t do that for you.”

Rafayel’s brow furrows, sharp and conflicted, “But Thomas-”

“-Is a smart guy,” you chirp, “And you pay him well. I’m sure he just got swept away at the business prospects. If we sit down with him and explain the best we can, I bet he’ll understand. And if he doesn’t, we’ll just find a…creative way to fix this deal. Like delivering a blank canvas with your signature. We can say it’s a commentary on the emptiness of human gratification or something”

That gets the artist to snort despite himself.

“Or we could take it a step further - deliver an empty frame. They’d probably force Thomas to return the money at that point.”

His snort turns into a low chuckle. You grin, ruffling his hair.

“Humans may suck, but we’re good at being petty and coming up with ideas for revenge, huh?”

“Mmm, not all humans are so bad,” Rafayel hums, eyes dancing with amusement as he looks up at you. “I know a hunter who never fails to remind me how good some can be. She’s bold and selfless, not to mention compassionate, even to cats. The world is brighter when she smiles, and her touch chases away even the worst of storms.”

Thunder rolls through the house, perfectly timed, and you giggle when Rafayel frowns.

“Well, maybe not real storms. Though I’m sure she would try.”

“For you, I would do anything,” you promise and he softens even more.

“I know, cutie.” Rafayel catches your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. He then moves to start getting up. “And knowing that gives me the strength to finish what I need to do. You’ve inspired me.”

“Nope.” The artist grunts as you suddenly wrap yourself around him like a koala, dragging him right back down onto the couch. You flip the two of you over, so you’re laying on top of him, chin propped on his chest. Stuck once again. “You agreed to listen to me about your health today. And now that we’ve talked about it, you’re going to actually rest. Whatever you have to do can wait until tomorrow, okay?”

“Ah, my apologies,” he says, voice lilting with hardly concealed laughter. “It seems I forgot about our arrangement.”

“Uh-huh. I’m in charge tonight, and that means we are going to cuddle and watch a movie, and then you are going to sleep. For the whole night. Understood?” You try to speak with an authoritative tone, but it also breaks with laughter.

“Of course.” Rafayel leans forward, and seels your deal with a brief, but ardent kiss. It leaves your heart fluttering as he draws back to whisper, “Thank you for taking care of me, my treasure.”

“Anytime, fishie.”

---

This ended up being sooooo long! I wanted to get the atmosphere and stuff just right, and then poof, nearly 4000 words. Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed a bit of Rafayel angst/comfort.

MC trying to break up with LADS men so they can be with someone who wants children. (The boys ain't going for that shit)

Wooooo boy, this took me like 3 going on 4 hours to write, but it all just flowed so natural for me. This is for my peeps who don't want kids! If you do, great amazing, I love that for you. I'll be the best auntie, but for those of us who aren't choosing the path of motherhood, I see you fren.

Sorry if I didn't catch all the mistakes, I'll do a proper edit when I wake up in the morning. Happy reading!

Rafayel

"You've been avoiding me for awhile now, why?" I could see the rage burning behind those beautiful eyes of his. I told myself I'd never do anything to make him worry again and yet..

It's better if I just rid myself of the pressure now. For the first time in days, I stand tall in front of him, my wavering gaze on the inferno building in his.

"Let's break up. " There, I said it. I said it.

Nothing could've prepared me for that oddly familiar look of hurt and betrayal. I didn't miss the way his body tensed ever slightly. His hands struggling to keep their grip on his hips.

"That's not funny." He reaches for me and I retreat. I can only divert my eyes from his.

"It wasn't supposed to be Raf, I'm serious. " I swallow thickly. The burning sensation building in my throat served as an indication that I needed to get out of here quickly. I don't want to break down here, not like this.

I turned to leave, my steps were weighed down by my words. I probably made it two steps before feeling that familiar warmth on my back. His calming scent aching to soothe me.

"I finally got you back after all this time. I can't let you leave like this. I won't, not again." The feel of his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. A luxury I could no longer afford.

Ha, his breathing is as erratic as mine.

"Tell me what I can do better. How can I fix this? Please, don't make me spend another lifetime without you. Please.." The breaking of his voice stirred something feral in me.

I look up from his chest to once more, I have to fight this.

"I-," my voice betrays me. Streams of tears roll down his now rosy cheeks as he falls to his knees before me.

"I know I said that I could live without you, but that was just some bullshit I tried to tell myself to cope. Stay."

Damn it.

I knew this wasn't going to be easy, but seeing him like this. So angry, hurt, and...broken. I bring my hands to his wet cheeks, gently wiping his tears away.

"You should be with someone who can give you everything. I'm sure you'd be an amazing father, but that's not something I think I can give you. "

With the release of those words in the air, I expected to feel better, but the crushing reality of what I was doing punched me in the gut.

"What are you talking about?" He grips my hands, locking them to his face.

With an exhale, I close my eyes recalling Rafayel commenting on how cute a young girl in the neighborhood was. He spoke of how cute a little me or him would be. At the time I smiled, but that was not a reality I wanted.

There's nothing medically preventing me from doing so, it's just not the life I want for myself. He is all I need, but am I all he needs...I'd hate to deny him that little pleasure.

We probably should've spoken about this a lot sooner, but being busy with Wanderers and business in the N109 Zone keeps me busy.

"The other day, what you said about us having kids...I don't want that Rafayel. I love you more than you can even imagine, God being with you is truly indescribable. But that's not a reality I can give you." My eyes open once more, his tears had stopped.

He only tightens his hold on me, that fire back in his eyes.

"Even now you can't tell how madly in love I am with you. My whole day consists of wondering how you're doing and when you'll be home. I'm constantly watching my phone, anticipating your call. I've gone lifetimes waiting for you...do you really think I'd let you leave me over something like this?"

I could barely breathe, my own tears work against me, nearly choking me with that building knot and burning sensation. It's almost retaliation.

"But you said--"

" I know what I said and I meant it." He wastes no time cutting me off, moving to tower me once more. Rafayel pulls me into him, our foreheads touching. The kiss of his breath on my lips.

"We would have the most beautiful babies, I know it. However, if that's not what you want, that's okay. I'm in a relationship with you for you. I'd be more than happy to spend an eternity with you, just you." Had he not been so close to me, I wouldn't have heard it.

Without allowing me a single word in, he claims my lips with his own. A kiss of love and passion, the salt of our tears not mattering.

He walks us back into the nearby wall, his lips never leaving mine. Our tongues dance as his arm wraps itself securely around my waist. Surely his way of saying I'm his.

My lungs burned with attention desperately needing air. I turn my head, breaking the kiss. Our pants are the only thing to be heard in his studio. I take in his flushed face happy that his broken state could no longer be found.

"Don't you forget, cutie, you have to take care of me." He smiles at me so tenderly, the warmth of his hand on my cheek as he places another kiss on my wet lips.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" I'm hesitant to meet his gaze.

The comfort of his fingers was placed delicately on my chin, moving me to face him. His hand secured mine, bringing it to his chest over the fluttering of his heart.

"I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

Sylus

"You wanna run that by me again, kitten? I fear I didn't hear you right." It's been too long since I've been on the receiving end of that particular glare. Flashes of our initial interaction flash through my mind.

Tonight was date night.

I told myself I'd have one more night with him before calling it all off. That was the plan, but now that he's sitting here eyeing me with a look that I can't entirely place...

"I said maybe it'd be better if we see other people. I don't think I'm someone who can give you want you want." There it was that condescending sneer.

"That's what I thought you said." He just sat there quietly. This was starting to get a bit uncomfortable.

He said nothing to me, only calling for the check. Maybe I should've done this at home.

The ride back to his house was beyond silent, I refused to make a sound. He seemed in deep contemplation, so I let him have it.

Once home, his eyes seemed to silently beckon me to our bedroom, the inquiries from the twins falling on deaf ears. They seemed quick to pick up on the vibe, excusing themselves as we continued the familiar path to our suite.

Sylus simply closed the door behind me before walking over to his vintage record player. His fingers seemed to dance about the selves for hours when he finally selected a record.

My heart warms as the familiar tune echoes about the room. The song of our first dance.

My vision grows blurry as he approaches me, tears threatening to fall. His hand reaches out, stopping a hair away from me.

"Dance with me, love." This is so much harder than I thought it'd be.

I look into those ruby eyes, the threatening look from earlier long gone. His love is all I can see now, it's overflowing.

"Okay." His hands gently take mine, his left hand sitting on my lower back. I don't stop him from pulling my head into his chest. The thundering of his heart keeps me centered in this moment.

We carry on like this for a moment when he speaks up again. "I've never been one to deny you what you want. Your happiness is the only thing that matters to me, so if you need to free yourself from me, okay." His voice has never been this soft.

I raise my eyes to him, seeing the subtle hurt buried in those crimson eyes.

"It's better this way." I force myself to say.

He sends out a soft chuckle though humor void of it.

"For who?" I let him sway us gently to the music uncertain if I want to bare it all.

"You." He keeps silent as he looks down at me.

"And why do you think that?" His thumb runs along my bottom lip. Just as he did the night, those thoughts took place.

We hadn't made love in awhile. I kept it that way. At the time, I'm sure he was just trying to appease Luke and Kieran, but his words festered in my mind.

It had been game night, nothing out of the ordinary. Sylus and I versus the twins in a quiz game they picked up. The comment was made in passing, but it was enough to place doubt.

"How can you two bully us like this? Are you going to treat your kids like this too?" Sylus had laughed at Luke's interrogation.

"Our children would get whatever they want, even a win in a measly quiz game. Just like their mother in kitty cards." I didn't let it show, but the thought of being a mother didn't sit right with me.

At first it didn't bother me as I'm sure it was harmless banter, but as the weeks progressed more and more jokes and conversations were brought up about what our kids would be like and who would they resemble. I started to pull myself away from Sylus. It had been nearly two months since we made love and I could tell he wanted to ask about it.

Over the last few weeks, his touches lingered longer, his kisses became needy, and his hugs were turning into full-blown cuddle sessions. I pretended not to see the hurt every time I cut our kisses short or when broke free of his touch.

Sylus was a proud man and I abused that.

Now that he's looking at me with all the love in the world, I can't believe I've let this go on this long.

"I can't become a mother for you, Sylus. At first I was okay with the jokes, but at some point it seemed you really loved the idea of having a child and that's not something I want to give you...or anyone."

As the confession poured out of me, the dam behind my eyes caved in once more. Still Sylus held my gaze.

He watched me silently, leaning down placing soft kisses on my cheek.

"Oh my love, is that all this is?" The baritone of his voice offered me a comfort I know I didn't deserve. "I've spent these last few weeks going insane. I'm a proud man yes, but I'd do anything for you. I thought you'd found someone to replace me, a poor one no doubt."

I wanted desperately to laugh at that, but the overwhelming anxiety I was feeling overrides the feeling.

"You've been avoiding me, my touch, my love...I didn't know what else to think. But this, I can work with this." He kisses me fiercely, and I allow it.

Months of uncertain feelings and desperation released into our kiss. His scent floods my nose as he cradles me into his chest. His arm scales my back, perching itself on the nape of my neck.

He pulls me back slowly, his hand deeply rooted onto me. His breath warms my swollen lips, his desire for me is suffocating, but I crave it.

"I don't need children with you to be happy. I just need you by my side, just you. I'd rather us not be apart if we can help it." I detect no lie in his eyes. "Even if you didn't love me anymore, I'd still want you right here with me. You're all I think about morning, day, and night. My heart knows no peace when you aren't near; your voice is my favorite sound. When I lay awake in the early mornings, it is you my body yearns for as though every part of me is longing to be intertwined with yours. Stay with me."

I'm speechless.

While Sylus is far from shy in showing that he loves me, this is the first time he's ever given me such a passionate confession.

I crash my lips to his once more, my legs trembling as I rise to my toes desperately needing to close our gap.

I love this man. I've always loved him and with this I will never doubt it again.

He grabs the underside of my thighs greedily, pulling me up into his embrace. My hands tangle in those snowy strands, no longer displaying it's previous elegance. My legs lock around his waist as his arms return the favor to mine.

I'm lightheaded.

I tap his shoulder eagerly, and he takes the bait partly, breaking our kiss. His tongue still dances on my lips as I catch my breath.

I bring my hand to his cheek, offering a loving caress.

"I'll stay."

"Good."

Zayne

Zayne is a busy man, I knew this. So at the time, coming to his place of work seemed to be the best option to deliver the news I needed to share.

I'd spent the last few weeks tip toeing around him because I had come to the conclusion I didn't want kids. A normal conversation all couples have at some point.

However, Zayne and I were never able to. In fact, it wasn't until recently that the thought even crossed my mind.

I'd overheard him on the phone with his mother one morning as I feigned sleep. She was pestering him about when he'd settle down and have some kids. He had an outstanding genetic pool to pass on, but that's not what I wanted.

And who am I to stand in his way?

I've seen the lingering gaze he had on couples that passed us by, their babies displayed in strollers.

It'd be best if we just end it now. He'd probably be able to marry another doctor and end up with a prodigy among prodigies.

I was confident and had a concrete plan. That plan melted away like butter under his gaze.

"Give me a moment." Was all he said to me after telling him I'd like to end things. He reached for his desk phone, dialing a few numbers. "Yes, nurse, can you see if Dr. Greyson is available to take on my surgery? Something urgent has come up I need to handle."

I watched him make quick work of the call before focusing his eyes on me.

"What brought this on?" He gestures for me to sit at his desk, his gaze never wavering.

"I just think it would be better for you in the long run if we ended this now. It'll be harder if I wait any longer. " I kept my focus on the ground, too ashamed to face him.

His hand reaches for me as he places his finger under my chin, lifting my eyes to his. "Oh, so you know what's best for me. Then please, tell me how so."

The seriousness of his voice was unsettling and as cold as his evol.

"Zayne, please don't do this." He gives me a dark chuckle.

"I could ask the same of you. I think I deserve to know why my girlfriend wants to leave me. She should also know I have no intention of doing so." Stubborn as a mule.

I huff in defeat.

"You're a very important person, Zayne, like really important. You need to be with someone who can provide longevity to your line, and that person is not me. I've seen the way you look at these families as of late and becoming a mother....as much as I love you, that's not something I'm willing to do." I stand from his desk, turning from him. I really wanted to do this without crying but damn it I love this man.

"Honey, look at me." His arm makes itself home to my waist as he waits for my response.

I just...stand there.

"Please." Why does his tone sound so desperate? Don't do this to me.

Reluctantly, I turn to face him. I hastily wipe the tears from my eyes.

"If this is about what my mother said, please don't worry. Don't you think I have more control over what I do than she does? I am not eager to start a family for a multitude of reasons." He places a kiss on my head. "I will admit I have had the thought. Don't you think it's only natural to wonder what our kids would be like, who they'd take after? But I assure you it was just a thought. If you don't want any kids, that's more than fine with me. As long as you're with me I don't need anything else."

I let him pull me in for a hug, his warmth a cure for the ache I'm feeling in my chest.

"Don't ever feel like you can't talk to me about these things. We're in a relationship, we need to have open discussions around these topics. You don't get to just leave me. Not again."

I let my tears paint his lab coat.

I knew he was too good for me.

"I'm sorry." I say softly. I can't believe I let it get this far.

"You don't have to be. I should apologize for allowing doubt to plague your mind. Never forget this, I need you in my life. No matter the cost. Besides, my parents weren't exactly around to give me the best demonstration. It's for the best."

I stare up at him, his eyes now warmer than earlier. The Zayne I had come to love was back. Without a word I pull him in for a kiss.

He's receptive despite being at work.

He walks us back into his chair, placing me on his lap.

"Don't worry about me, you should check on your patients." He offers a small smile.

"How can I leave you in this state? And honestly, do you really think I'd be able to focus on anything else right now?" He brings my hands to his lips, placing a kiss on each finger.

"My beautiful girlfriend is in need of my attention. "

Xavier

I take it back. I take it back. I take it back.

Had I known the words, "let's break up" would result in the most heartbreaking pout from Xavier, I would've never said a thing.

"Did I do something to upset you? I know it's been hard to spend time together lately, but I've been trying my best to stay awake more." The words left his mouth almost faster than I could register.

"No baby, it's not that. I know you've been working so hard with that it's just-,"

"Do you not love me anymore? Is there someone else?" Fuck, what did I expect. This wasn't supposed to go this way.

I bring my hands to his pouting face, trying to offer a reassuring caress. It only makes him pout more.

"I love you so much Xavier, more than all the stars in the sky."

"Then why?" There's an emotion I can't quite place in his tone and gaze. A hint of anger, perhaps. I can see him trying his best to keep his cool. "Tell me."

"The other day, when you said you'd picked out a name for our potential kid, how serious were you about that?" It had been late as we walked home after cleaning up a few wanderers. Xavier had told me that he'd picked a name for our child. A child that I never wanted.

Everything had been perfect until that moment. Doubt found a new abode in my mind, festering on my insecurities.

"The name?" He questions me. "Oh, that, I mean kind of. Did you not like it? We can change it. I'm open to anything." I move to release my hands from his cheeks, but he's having none of it. He keeps them glued to his rosy cheeks.

"Xavier, I don't know how else to say this, but I don't want them. Kids, I mean. We should just end it now before things get too deep." I see something change in his eyes at my confession, but it doesn't seem to be disappointment.

"If you don't want kids, that's fine with me. Honestly, given my...condition, it's probably for the best. While I still think it's a wonderful name for our child, we can give it to one of the cats." He places a kiss on my palm.

"I just want to be with you, so please don't leave me. For the first time in a while, my reality is better than my dreams. I don't want that to be the only place I can find you." Oh, the way he warms my heart.

"If you're sure, I don't want you to have any regrets." I've never known a love like this and I pray that I never have to let it go. Even in death, I'll feel his love for me, I just know it.

"You're the one thing in life I've ever been certain of. I have no meaning without you." He pushes me back gently onto his bed, taking his place between my open legs. His lips cover my neck in a stream of kisses as I feel his hand grope desperately on the round of my ass. His fingers slide up ever so slightly into the open material grazing the line of my panties.

"Besides bun, I much prefer the process of making a baby than having one."

🫠 thank you for reading! Feel free to comment, reblog, or like. Have a lovely dayyyy or don't whatever floats ya boat

snoopy + xavier

NOT THE GAME WRITERS DOING THE CALLBACKS AGAINNNN

I'M UGLY CRYINGGGGGGGGGG .·´¯`(>Д<)´¯`·.

xavier and songs pt. 0.5

so, we all know how xavier is like extremely little prince coded. especially with everyone talking about his new 4* card. this has brought me to a connection: the song star lost by stray kids is about the little prince. in turn resulting that it fits xavier. theres more ill add to this later, but thats the thoughts i have right now.