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[unknown-ends]

It Happened Quiet

Have this little zayne x sylus drabble that I wrote. If you don't like me shipping the guys together, block me, it's that simple.

Tags: fluff, hints of polyamory, kissing.

The first kiss had been a surprise, an impulsive spur of the moment decision from Sylus, one he didn't even know the reason for.

They were in the kitchen at Zayne’s place, with you in the living room. It had been a spontaneous hangout with just the three of you, as Xavier was on a mission and Rafayel had gone on a trip to god knows where.

He had gone into the kitchen, after a little bit of nudging from you, intending to help, and somehow they were in this situation.

The kiss was soft and tentative, like every other time Sylus had pushed Zayne’s buttons before. It was sweet, in a way, so sweet that both of them had blushed. After Zayne’s initiative, the kiss had turned deeper, filled with curiosity and the need to explore. By the time they had separated, satisfied and in tune with each other, Zayne had ended pinned against the kitchen counter.

“You're a good kisser."

“You're not half bad,” there was a small smirk on Zayne’s lips, and Sylus couldn't tell if he hated or loved it.

Ps. He totally loved it.

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𖧁୧ . . first time w rafayel 🫧 ࣪ ˖

contents ㅤ♡ྀི ₊ nsfw under the cut ! rafayel x virgin!fem reader, established relationship, unprotected sex, i need him biblically

you’d been kissing for what felt like hours. soft, deep, slow, the kind of kissing that left you lightheaded and aching, every inch of you trembling from how careful he was being. like you’d shatter if he touched you any harder, like he wanted to devour you whole, but was forcing himself not to.

rafayel’s hand was splayed over your lower back, warm and steady. you’d barely touched him yet, not really. and still, you were burning—thighs pressed tight around nothing, panties soaked through, lips parted and swollen from how long he'd been kissing you. every inch of you was wound tight with want, but he held you there, unmoving, as if having you pressed to his chest was its own kind of pleasure.

“you’re shaking,” he murmured against your mouth, voice barely a breath.

you gasped, trying to move your hips, but his hands caught your waist. “please, raf—”

“shh,” he whispered, gentle but firm. “don’t rush. just let me feel you a little longer.”

he nuzzled your cheek, kissed the bridge of your nose, your jaw. then just held you there, sitting open and needy in his lap, the heavy press of his cock pressed beneath you. you could feel the throb of him through the layers between you. hard, hot, big. the kind of size that had you wondering if your body could even take him. maybe he knew that, and that's why he was being so devastatingly careful. like if he touched you the wrong way, you’d vanish.

“i think about this too much,” rafayel whispered against your skin like a confession. “how good you’ll feel when you open up for me.”

“you'd take me, wouldn’t you?” he continued, his thumb brushing lazy circles just below your navel. “you’d let me stretch you open?”

“uh huh,” you hiccuped, already breathless, thighs clenched around him.

you were already bare for him, legs spread across his lap. his shirt off, yours somewhere on the floor, your underwear soaked through and peeled to the side. he moved one hand down, sliding between your thighs with a deliberate slowness that made your whole body arch. and when he found you, wet and trembling, his breath caught.

“fuck,” he whispered, eyes fluttering closed. “you’re soaked, sweetheart. i haven’t even touched you yet.”

his fingers didn’t push in, didn’t even circle. he just rested them there, barely moving, like the heat of you was enough to ruin him. like he wanted to remember how it felt, this first time. how soft and flushed and ready you were.

“we’ll go slow,” rafayel promised, voice raw. “i’ll make it good for you. so good.”

you felt the first gentle stroke of his fingers. just once, slicking through your folds. then, without warning, his sinks a finger in slowly, so slowly it makes your breath catch. he eases in a second, working you open with a worshipful hunger that sends a thrill straight to your core. you sobbed, full-body and desperate.

“oh, baby,” he whispered, like he was in awe. “don’t cry. you’re perfect. i’ve got you.”

his voice dropped lower, like sin wrapped in silk. “you’re just aching, aren’t you?” another soft stroke. “all filled up with nothing.”

you nodded, frantically. he kissed you again, filthy this time, tongue and teeth and heat, your moans caught in his mouth. you were so overwhelmed, trembling with how much you wanted. how warm his hands felt on your skin. how much care he poured into every motion, like he couldn’t believe he got to touch you like this at all.

his fingers were soaked. he spread your slick across your aching folds with unbearable care, circling your clit with the gentlest touch, over and over, until your hips were twitching up into his palm.

“you’re making such a mess,” he crooned, kissing just under your jaw. ��this pretty little cunt’s just dripping for me, huh?”

you whimpered, high and helpless, nails digging into his shoulders like that might somehow ground you. his lips trailed lower, slow kisses down your throat, over your collarbone. he reached your chest and didn’t just grope, he worshipped. cupped your breast in one hand, kissed the other like it was something sacred. sucked soft at your nipple, groaning when your back arched into him.

“you want me inside?” he breathed, tongue flicking over your skin. “think you’re ready, baby?”

you were soaked, throbbing, your whole body begging for him. “yes,” you gasped. “please, raf, please—”

he shifted above you, carefully, cradling the back of your head like you were breakable. his hips moved forward, the thick weight of his tip nudging at your entrance.

your breath hitched. he was hot and heavy, the blunt head of his cock barely pressing in, stretching you with the slightest pressure, and already, your body tensed with the ache.

he held himself there, just barely inside, unmoving. waiting. his forehead pressed to yours, lips brushing your own. “deep breath, baby,” he murmured. “it’s just the tip. you’re doing so good.”

his hips rocked forward the slightest inch, just enough to push deeper, to draw another gasp from your chest. your spine arched in response, thighs twitching around his sides like instinct. your cunt was gripping him, velvety and soaking, stretched wide around that impossible girth. every ridge, every twitch of him pressed to the softest parts of you. heat bloomed deep in your belly like a bruise being kissed into place.

the weight of him inside you was staggering. every inch he gave you felt like it rewrote something in your body. your walls pulsed around him, struggling to take more, and yet wanting it, aching for it, the way lungs ache for air.

your nails pressed into his back, searching for something to hold onto. his mouth hovered near your cheek, brushing warmth over your skin with every shuddered breath he took. you were wet enough to hear it, that slow, molten slide of his cock coaxing its way in. and still, it felt impossible. your body didn’t know what to do with him, had never held anything like this.

“you feel that?” he whispered, nosing along your jaw. “feel how deep i am already? and i’m not even halfway, baby.”

your breath caught. another push forward, and you felt it hit something deeper, that place inside that made your legs jerk and your throat tighten around a whimper. he stilled, panting softly against your shoulder, grounding you again.

your cunt clenched again, hard. it made him groan, made you whine. it felt like your body was sucking him in, desperate, needing. and still he moved slow, so slow, sinking in deeper as your muscles pulsed around him in surrender.

“that’s it,” he breathed, praising you with every breath. “such a good girl. lettin’ me in so slow. stretchin’ so pretty for me.”

the praise didn’t land in your ears so much as in your chest. it bloomed under your ribs, settling somewhere deep, where your pulse couldn’t tell the difference between fear and pleasure. you were stretched taut, cunt clenching involuntarily, the ache delicious and dizzying, every part of you tuned to where his cock filled you, inch by careful inch.

he bottomed out with a shudder, cock seated deep inside you, and everything went quiet. for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. couldn’t think. you were just so full, stretched wide and gasping, every muscle fluttering from the sheer pressure of him. you clenched around him again, instinctively, helpless, and his jaw locked tight like it took everything in him not to move. he was shaking above you, breathing ragged into your skin.

you whimpered, your legs wrapped around his waist to keep him close, not that he was going anywhere. his hands were firm on your hips, thumbs smoothing over your skin, trying to soothe you both. you felt wrecked already, and he’d barely moved.

“too much?” he asked, voice barely a whisper, even as you shook your head before he finished the words. “tell me what you need, angel.”

“i’m okay,” you breathed. “need you to move, raf. please.”

a tremor ran through his body, and then he pulled out before sinking back in with slow, deliberate force. you moaned, high and trembling, eyes fluttering shut. it was so deep. too deep, too much, and yet not enough. your body couldn’t decide. your walls tightened, clinging to him greedily, even as your thighs trembled from the effort of keeping yourself open for him.

he kept up the slow pace with careful, gentle thrusts. not hard but steady, like he was still testing your limits, still giving you time to adjust and still barely holding himself back. each drag of his cock rubbed against something unbearably good inside you. it made your back arch, your mouth part, little whines spilling out uncontrollably.

“god, look at you,” he moaned softly, watching every twitch and flutter of your body. “so sweet. that tight little pussy's holding me so good.”

you were trying to answer, trying to thank him or ask for more or just breathe, but the words all dissolved somewhere between your parted lips and the fire low in your belly. your thoughts were melting, every coherent thing washed away by the slow grind of his hips and the thick heat of him inside you.

he pressed his forehead to yours, breath heavy and hot against your lips. “wish you could feel what i feel. you’re squeezing me so tight. i’m gonna lose it if you keep looking at me like that.”

you couldn’t help it. your eyes were glossy, mouth swollen from his kisses, your whole body open and aching for him. every slow thrust sent a ripple through your thighs, your belly, your heart.

each stroke was smooth and full, dragging slick and warm through your walls, pressing into the parts of you that made your toes curl and your breath catch. you could hear how wet you were, how your heat welcomed him in every time, sweet and messy and perfect.

“you’re so good for me,” rafayel whispered. “so fucking pretty like this. all spread out and dripping. letting me fuck you open, taking it so well, baby.”

you whimpered, trying not to cry from the sheer overwhelm of it. you’d never felt so full, so bare. so cherished and ruined all at once.

the rhythm stayed steady, but your moans didn’t. they were growing louder, breathier, sweeter with every thrust, until they broke apart into needy, high little cries that made his hips stutter. you didn’t mean to, you weren’t trying to push him, but it was as if your body was speaking for you. arching up into him, pulling him deeper, greedy and frantic despite how slow he was still moving.

“raf—” you gasped, clawing at his shoulders. “more. more, please.”

a choked groan fell from his lips as his hips jerked with a need that echoed yours. you felt the shift in him—the control fraying, slipping through his fingers. he was trying to hold on. trying so hard to be good for you.

the sounds in the room were obscene. your slick, the wet drag of his cock plunging into you, your needy little gasps and his wrecked moans, all tangled into something raw and dizzying and perfect. you were wrecked, gasping and sobbing his name between whimpers of please and don’t stop and feels so good, every word tangled with want.

you sobbed his name, body arching into him, eyes glossy and unfocused. you sounded like you were coming apart under him, like he was the only thing keeping you from floating away.

“i know,” he groaned, barely holding himself together. “i know, baby. you’re taking me so well. so fuckin’ perfect for me. never felt anything like this.”

he sounded wrecked, like he was drowning in you. his voice was thick with heat and disbelief, every word unraveling between praises. “your pussy’s got me losin’ my mind. fuckin’ made for me. feels like heaven, baby. so soft, so warm—fuck, you’re gonna kill me.”

you were too far gone to speak. you just cried his name, again and again, your body shaking as the pleasure built like a tidal wave. his praises never stopped. like he had to say them, practically bursting out of him. your body was coiled tight, every muscle drawn and trembling, the heat inside you swelling fast and hard like it couldn’t hold any longer.

rafayel felt it in the way you clenched around him, how your moans cracked and pitched into sharp, high whimpers, your legs trembling where they wrapped around his hips. “ohh, baby,” he panted, face buried in your neck. “that’s it. that’s it, i got you. just let go, let go for me.”

you hands scrabbled for purchase, digging into his shoulders like he was the only thing anchoring you. white heat exploded through you, shattering everything. you came with a cry, back arching up off the bed as your cunt clamped down around him, tight and fluttering, soaking his cock in a wave of hot, helpless release.

he groaned deep in his chest, felt it, like your orgasm ripped through him, too. “oh, fuck—fuck, you’re milkin’ me, baby, i—”

he didn’t last a second longer. one more pulse of your cunt around him, one more cry of his name, and he snapped. he buried himself deep, his tip kissing your cervix as he came hard, spilling inside you with a low, shaking moan. he held you close as he painted your walls with every last drop, your name a reverent chant on his lips. he trembled above you, chest heaving, one hand braced by your head and the other scooping you up by your waist like he couldn’t bear not to be touching you.

“you’re perfect,” he whispered, kissing your temple. “so perfect for me, baby. you did so good.”

you blinked up at him, vision blurry, lips parted. your whole body felt numb, boneless and oversensitive and wrecked in the most perfect way. the ache between your thighs was sweet, deep, and dizzying. you whimpered, barely able to breathe.

he cradled your face in both hands now, brushing the wet hair from your cheeks, his thumb sweeping slow under your eye. “you okay?” he asked softly, nuzzling your noses together. “talk to me, sweetheart.”

you nodded, eyes glassy. “yeah. yeah, i just… wow.”

he smiled—melted, really—and leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead. your thighs twitched around him. he was still thick inside you, still stretching you, but you didn’t want him to move yet. he rocked into you just once, slow and deep, making your breath catch.

he let you fall into him, arms around his shoulders, forehead resting against his chest while he whispered all the things he didn’t have the breath to say before. “so beautiful,” he murmured. “so sweet. you were perfect, baby. took me like you were made for it.”

you buried your face in his neck, dazed and warm and aching, as he kissed your hair.

“i love you,” he said, soft as a secret. “so, so much. my perfect girl.”

you stayed tangled in the heat and sweat and softness, still joined at the hips, your bodies humming with afterglow, too wrecked to speak and too in love to need to.

thank u sooo much for all the love on my last two posts ♡

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sneak peek into the road trip fic, ft. doggo:

Again?

Sylus should be annoyed.

That’s his spot.

A long sigh escapes, followed by quiet laughter trickling into the camper van.

But he can’t.

Because here you are: burying your fingers into fur speckled like robin egg shells, curling your back like young branches do, drooling inches away from Scout’s damp nose—mouth open, relaxed, exposing pearly whites identical to his.

You are reflections of each other. Two halves of a whole chasing presence when Sylus isn’t there to hold you.

So instead, he smiles, closing the door ever so softly until all that remains is the wash of dawn spilling over golden hills.

His nap can wait.

Anything to preserve this peace with you.

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a small expansion of this. mdni.

Zayne calls you insatiable as you crawl beneath his desk, rubbing your cheek against the thick throb of him pressed against the seam of his pants.

He complains, but it’s half-hearted, voice hoarse and thick with desire. He doesn’t stop you from unbuckling his pants. Instead, lifts his hips to help you tug them down.

He shifts in his chair to grant you more room, to spread his legs wider, threading his fingers in your hair when you finally set him free. And when you blister the base of his need with a kiss, that pretty, gruff sound he makes pinches your stomach.

You drag sweltering lips up the span of his shaft, and his thighs shake. He’s trying so hard to breathe evenly, to keep those wonderful, strained noises to himself. It’s an ego boost for you, because you love stripping your boyfriend of his cool. Peeling back the layers of his modesty like an onion until he only knows the taste of your name.

What’s great is that you’re still throbbing. Still swollen from your romp with Sylus earlier, the warm channel of your sex still so wonderfully stretched and stained with cum, yet greedy and aching to be filled once more.

This will do for now, you think, slowly taking Zayne into your perfect, wet mouth.

As if pulled from him without his consent, he curses under his breath, accompanied by a groan as potent as thunder.

The fingers once weaved into your hair, slip to the back of your neck. Not to force you down, nor to control the pace, nor to gag you. But something to keep him earthbound, because the hot suction of your mouth promises to fling him into the exosphere.

He drops his head back against the headrest, shielding the beautiful bloom of rouge in his cheeks behind his hand. He’s trying to be good—he really is. But he’s rolling his hips in rhythm with each bob of your head, testing the sensitivity of your gag reflexes each time.

More of this, and he’ll unravel like a spool of thread leaping off a table. But just as he begins to lose himself, when blinding phosphenes dance behind his shuttered lids, someone knocks on his office door.

You both tense when the door swishes open—a surgical assistant pressing his way inside, mouth teeming with questions.

Typically, Zayne doesn’t mind the intrusion, which is why the staffer feels so comfortable barging in without waiting for a “come in.” But when he steps too close to his desk, where the scent of skin, pre-spend, and headiness linger, Zayne stops him with a halting hand.

“Go on,” he softly commands, tone revealing nothing. And you’re unsure if the request is meant for you or the assistant.

Regardless, the man continues with his inquiries, and the encouraging palm Zayne molds around your head is all the encouragement you need to continue unspooling him with your mouth. And you’re pulsing even more, clamping down on yourself, because who knew your Zaynie-poo was a closeted exhibitionist?

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If ANY of yall EVER do this shit to me, im deleting every single fic out of spite.

If I ever catch one of yall doing this to another author and I know youre a follower of my work I will block you personally on every platform

None of yall are the fic police. I DESPISE genai. I think its an insult to art, humanity, and the planet itself. But aint not a single fucking person here qualified to pick apart a strangers fic looking for a gotcha moment to make yourselves feel superior. If you think something is ai you can ask the author (most are proud of the ai use and will just tell you straight up) if they say yes you have your answer and can warn people. If they say no and you dont believe them you block and quietly keep it between you and maybe a close group of friends. Spreading misinformation is DANGEROUS. And NONE of you doing this shit are anywhere near qualified to do it.

THIS GOES DOUBLY FOR ARTISTS.

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I forgot mc carried Zayne home when he passed out on the streets.... Now with Raf it's 2/5 even though Zayne's instance didn't get animated

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Anyway,

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⭐️🐟Starfish - Hospital AU

Fishie as nurse desperately need full body shower after endless shifts, loves caramel macchiato and HOT TEA ☕️🍵

Angelic Xavi as pediatrician, loved by the kids (and the mothers too, lol)❤️

Note:

Finished all Lis! I really appreciate every kind comments. Im glad we can share same vision about this AU! Feel free to use as prompt if you wanna make fic about it, also kindly tag/dm me once the fic is finished (cuz i wanna read it too loll thanks for cookingg)

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I DREAMT ABOUT XAVI-WABI AGAIN I'm blaming @comatosebunny09 for reblogging a bunch of space shit (keep doing it, I love it) cause it heavily influenced the dream.

So, I'm on a spaceship and I'm doing maintenance and what not when someone in an astronaut suit pops up near one of the windows and I just let them in, for some reason? Then they walk in, take off the suit and I'm like

At some point he turned into @leaderincrows furry version cause something went wrong with a potion I made and I got the most massive cuteness aggression and attacked him with kisses.

Xavier! My baby is here!

And then we make out for a little, did some space travel together and idk what the fuck happens that I go a little too far back in time and I had to repeat a whole as acceptance test where I meet Xavier (but he's not my Xavier, it's the younger version of him) and then he helps me go back to my time so I can be with my Xavier....

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𖧁୧ . . sleepy rafayel melts into u like honey 🫧 ࣪ ˖

contents ㅤ♡ྀི ₊ nsfw under the cut ! soft n sleepy raf, unprotected sex, soft dom!rafayel, established relationship, cockwarming-ish, i want him so badly it aches

it starts with warmth. not the sun, though that's there, slanting through the blinds, soft and golden, but him. stretched out behind you, arms heavy over your waist, chest rising and falling against your back. you can feel the steady beat of his heart, slow and calm, and the faintest brush of his lips at the curve of your shoulder, like he was kissing you in his sleep.

you shift slightly and he makes a noise, not quite awake yet. just a low little hum, soft and slurred, as he nuzzles closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck. his body fits perfectly against yours, bare skin on bare skin, and you can feel all of him. every slow breath. every lazy twitch of his fingers. and the slow, rising heat of him hardening against the backs of your thighs.

“mm,” rafayel mumbles, mouthing at your neck, still half asleep. “you're so warm.”

your fingers lace with his where they rest on your stomach. “go back to sleep.”

“don’t wanna,” he breathes, lips grazing your shoulder, trailing lower, kissing the dip of your spine. his voice is thick with sleep, sweet and low. “just wanna stay here. with you.”

he ruts against you once, slow and clumsy, hips rolling forward. not to get off, not yet. just to feel you. his cock slides against your thigh, already heavy and warm, and you feel him shiver when your legs part a little in invitation.

“fuck,” he whispers, still so quiet, like he's worried he'll wake you up even though he already has.

rafayel kisses up your neck, along your jaw, until you're turning to face him. eyes still heavy-lidded, mouth already parted. when he kisses your lips, it's tender, wet and lazy, like he doesn’t care about anything but the way you taste.

his hand finds your cheek, thumb brushing so sweetly it almost makes your chest ache. “can i?”

you nod, and that’s all he needs. he shifts on top of you, but keeps kissing you, like he can’t bear to stop. his knee nudges your thighs open gently, breathing into your mouth when he finally presses his hips down. he’s not inside you yet, just grinding, slow and shallow. teasing. dragging the head of his cock over your slick folds and whispering broken little thank-you’s into your skin like he’s praying.

“you feel so good. fuck, you’re so soft. can’t believe you’re mine.”

when he finally sinks in, it's slow. so slow, one inch at a time, like he’s savoring it. like he’s afraid he’ll wake up from it. he stills when you gasp, kissing your cheek. “shh, i got you, baby.”

rafayel stays like that for a moment, buried inside you, hands cradling your hips like you’re something precious. your legs wrap around him, and he lets out the tiniest sound — wrecked and desperate.

“you always take me so well,” he murmurs. “so fucking perfect for me.”

he starts to move, unhurried, steady, every thrust deep and careful. not rough. not fast. just… intimate. his forehead rests against yours, and he holds your face like he wants to memorize every sound you make.

“wanna stay here forever,” he breathes. “fuck you like this every morning. make you feel good before anything else.”

you nod, too overwhelmed to speak. eyes glossy, mouth trembling under his. you’re already shaking before he’s even close. he keeps it slow, keeps you slow, with his body pinning yours down and his mouth catching every gasp you let out. the drag of his hips is almost torturous, but he whispers your name like a vow and tells you you’re doing so good for him, so pretty like this, that he needs to see you fall apart.

“come on,” rafayel whispers into your throat, kissing the tremble in your pulse. “let go for me, baby. it’s okay. i’ve got you.”

and god, he does. he holds your body like it’s sacred, moves like he’s praying, like this is worship. his fingers tremble where they hold your face, and his lips are on your temple, your cheek, your mouth again and again and again.

you cum with a sob, clinging to him, nails digging into his back. everything goes white for a second, hazy, searing, but he doesn’t stop. not even when you twitch beneath him, overstimmed and panting, eyes fluttering shut.

he groans low against your ear, ruts into you deeper, messier now, chasing his own release through the aftershocks of yours. every thrust rocks you against the mattress, your name falling from his lips in a breathless chant.

when he finally cums, it’s with a low, broken sound, arms tightening around you as his hips still and his cock pulses deep inside. he spills into you warm and slow, pressing kisses to your cheek like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

and then everything’s quiet. just the sound of his heartbeat against your chest and the soft little “mm, love you so much,” he murmurs, barely awake, as he melts into your body.

you blink up at him through heavy lashes. “you didn’t even open your eyes,” you tease, voice still wrecked.

rafayel's lips twitch in the faintest smile. “don’t need to,” he says, eyes still closed, arms still wrapped around you. “know it’s you.”

he doesn’t pull out right away. just stays inside, wrapped around you like he can’t bear to let go. like there’s nowhere else he’d ever want to be. his hand drags lazily down your spine, touch feather-light, barely there.

“was that okay?” he asks, a little sheepish now.

you kiss the corner of his mouth. “perfect.”

he hums, content. presses his face into your neck. “’m gonna fall asleep like this.”

“still inside me?”

“uh-huh,” he pulls you even closer, somehow. “s’my favorite place to be.”

you just hold him tighter, already drifting, already warm again, tangled in sheets and each other and the kind of quiet that feels like safety.

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Render of that one sketch I already posted

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sorry for keeping my xavier art locked in the basement

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Look at him, he's so sick, he sickens me, he thinks he's slick, that sneaky little bastard, why I oughta

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<- intro | prev | next ->

Breakfast eases by like honey.

Languid and smooth. A golden leak of sun rays through your curtains, adding this familiar sense of warmth you missed last night. Tooth-decaying and sweet, but still thick with something you’re not ready to broach.

Sylus fills the silence with chatter. The most exciting thing about his day prior was wrenching Mephisto from a semi’s exhaust pipe.

Zayne huffs that soft laugh every now and again. Mentions something about a torn ventricle in the OR—lots of blood and panic amongst the interns. Something only he and Sylus would find amusing, your face scrunching up and stomach lurching.

They’re trying to carry on like normal, if only to prevent setting you off again. You’re thankful they don’t press. They never do.

But you also hate how careful they are. How they skirt around you like you’re a brittle eggshell left to flake in the sun.

There’s no missing how they watch you. How their gazes briefly meet, their jaws flexing, fingers twitching, like they want to say something.

Only when you’re ready to address the elephant in the room, though. If you want to confront it.

They always let you take the lead. Temper the pace. They trust you, and they clearly don’t want to fuck this up anymore.

Wordlessly, you help them clear the table. Sylus touches the clutch of your hand when you reach for a plate, his lips quirking into something half morose. You don’t have to help. But you want to. Something to keep your hands occupied while you think.

Besides, the guilt is starting to weigh heavy—you weren’t entirely wrong in your fury, but your execution was far from conducive.

They’re your sweet loves. Two different routes on a map that lead to the same destination.

One who fears losing control, loving you so wholly despite its threat to consume him. The other learning to give control to you freely, bearing his heart despite the shitty hand the world’s dealt him.

They adore you. And you know deep down, they would never intentionally hurt you.

Zayne insists on washing dishes. He nudges you away from the sink with that smile that squeezes your heart when you try to help. He at least agrees to let you help feed dishes into the dishwasher.

You fall into harmony beside him, arms brushing, stolen glances, weightless laughter, tender smiles.

Sylus slinks into the living room, grabs pillows from your couch, and tosses them onto the floor. You eye him curiously from your shoulder when he emerges from your linen closet with a ridiculous stack of blankets. Realization dawns when he begins arranging them on the floor into a makeshift nest.

All this work they’re doing to make amends and cheer you up, yet you’ve said nothing to assuage their guilt.

You feel bad, dragging the tension like a parachute through the sand. Hanging onto something you partially let go of the moment they uttered, “We’re sorry.”

They’ve suffered your silence long enough.

Quietly, no prelude, no theatrics, and against the clatter of forks in the dishwasher and Zayne rinsing, it slips out.

“I’m sorry.”

They freeze.

You don’t have to look up to know Zayne’s turned bewildered forests on you. Don’t have to glance over your shoulder to know Sylus’ gaze is drilling between your shoulder blades, right down to your soul.

You clear your throat, keeping your gaze low. Shame floods hot in your cheeks. Knowing you have their full attention, you test your voice again.

“I’m sorry. About last night.”

The pressure of their bodies closes in. They leave enough space not to suffocate you, to step away if you deem the attention too much. But their proximity is comforting and reassuring in a way.

Sylus huffs behind you in that half-humored way, leaning against the doorframe. “What are you apologizing for, sweetie?”

Zayne’s brows knit together in your periphery. “You have no reason to,” he urges.

They’re insufferable—always trying to shield you and take up for you even when you’re the one pulling the trigger.

“I was being childish last night.” Your voice cracks, fingers clenching tightly around the plate in your hands. “I was selfish. Dramatic. I knew you guys were busy. You’re allowed to have lives outside of me, you know? I just…needed someone after the day I had.”

You laugh humorlessly beneath your breath. Swallow. “Hell, after the week I had. I know you weren’t intentionally ignoring me. I was already in my feelings, and I spiraled more when I felt like you ditched me. Guess I just wanted to feel important for a sec.”

The clink of a glass set down in the sink reaches you. “You are important,” whispers Zayne, his tone cautious like he fears scaring you off.

“More than you’ll ever know,” Sylus tacks on, his voice sounding closer than before.

“I know. I just…I just didn’t feel like it yesterday.” You laugh through the blurry film of tears glazing your eyes. “But instead of just cooling off and thinking rationally, I acted like a brat and took my frustration out on your guys.”

Arms encircle your waist, wary at first as if testing the waters. When you make no move to shimmy away, they tighten around you, and his chin finds the swoop of your shoulder, drawing you back into the familiar, dizzying warmth of his body. Sylus.

“You were being awfully bratty,” he murmurs, tone uncommonly gentle as he rocks your bodies side to side. “But you were hurting. And as your lovers, it’s our duty to ensure you never experience pain like that from the start.”

Zayne wipes his hands on a dishcloth, neatly folding it over the sink’s edge before stepping closer to drag his knuckles down your cheek. Tender like you’re made of porcelain.

“You’re allowed to have needs.” His eyes shine like sea glass beneath waves refracting sunlight when you look at him. “It’s also our responsibility to ensure we meet them.”

If you didn’t feel like crying before…

Sylus roots his nose behind your ear, stamping it with a kiss. “If you ever feel that we aren’t loving you loud enough, sweetheart—”

“Please tell us.” Zayne’s fingers clasp around your chin, drawing you in for a kiss. “Never apologize for having feelings and for expressing them. Not to us.”

“And if you’re going to get revenge on us next time, I suggest you wear something more daring.”

You make a sound in the back of your throat, amusedly peering at Sylus. Over your shoulder, his eyes crinkle with quiet playfulness.

“The dress you wore last night wasn’t dramatic enough. Not like the things I’ve bought you.”

Your chuckle is wet and wobbly, your lashes dewy with tears.

They share a smile at the easiness of your laughter, Zayne’s hand stroking your hip while Sylus’ embrace grows all the more protective.

The air is lighter now. Charged with something unmistakable. Something that breathes forgiveness.

[unknown-ends]

Wait…people are mad about Rafayel being carried in the new card? Huh?

[unknown-ends]

Bikini Body Blues

Sylus x fat!fem!Reader

Been waiting for a chance to write smth like this, and when better than right before a beach banner?

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, body image, fat reader, beaches, bikinis, forehead kisses, short + sweet

Word Count: 637

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You felt really good about it when you were getting dressed. Posing in the mirror, admiring how the bikini rose on your hips and cradled your breasts, it all seemed so perfect. You felt so confident, turning this way and that and giggling at the idea of Sylus admiring you behind his sunglasses.

But now? Well...

You pull your coverup tighter around yourself, feigning that it's just to keep out the cool ocean breeze. There's no one else to hide from; Sylus, being Sylus, bought the beach, meaning it's just you, him, and, somewhere way down the stretch, the Twins, who set off as soon as you got here in a mad chase. Which means, Sylus notices the motion right away.

"Are you alright, sweetie?" He settles down on the lounge chair beside yours, shaded from the sun. It's no fair - he looks so good! Swim trunks sitting low on his hips, revealing that damn v-line of his. And you're...

You force a smile at him. "I'm fine! Just a little chilly, is all."

He hums. Red eyes flicker down over your body. You hold tighter to the coverup. "We can lay in the sun, if you'd like."

Going in the sun means putting on sunscreen. Which means revealing yourself. Which means putting your body on full display. You shake your head. "I'm okay right here!"

He leans forward, elbows on his knees, brow coming together as he frowns. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's-"

"Sweetie," he cuts you off. "All week you've been gushing to me about laying in the sun and running into the sea. Now you just want to hide in the shade the whole time we're here?"

You bite your lip. Can't meet the intensity of his gaze as you look away to watch a seagull peter by. There's no use hiding your feelings from him. You were a fool to think you ever could when he knows you too well.

So, you give in. You sigh and loosen your hold on the coverup, just enough that the soft silky material doesn't cinch so tightly around your arms. The wind forms waves in the hem.

"I wanted to surprise you with my bathing suit. It's so cute, and I really like it... But then we got here and I just, I hate it. I hate... my body, like this. Fat people shouldn't wear bikinis."

He scoffs. Your eyes shoot up to meet his. It's not out of amusement that he reacted that way. It's almost anger that crosses his face. Disgust for the things you've said.

"Whoever told you that, kitten, they're dead wrong. You can wear anything you want." His eyes flicker down again. Something mischievous flickers in his eyes and the corner of his mouth. "Or nothing at all."

"Sylus!"

He chuckles, but he reaches into the beach bag beside him. He pulls out a white shirt that sat on top - the shirt he wore on the drive here. He holds it out for you. "If you're uncomfortable, you can wear this."

You stare at the shirt, hesitant and uncertain. "Are you sure? Knowing you, this probably cost, like, 200 dollars."

"I'm sure," he chuckles. He finds the front of the shirt and opens up the neckhole, placing it over your head. "As long as you're comfortable, I'd let you wear a 2 million dollar shirt. How do you feel now?"

It's way too big on you, but as you release the coverup and slip your arms through the holes, your shoulders relax. You smile at him, warm and genuine. "I feel a lot better, Sy. Thank you."

He leans forward to press an adoring kiss to your forehead. "Of course, sweetie. Now..." He reaches back into the beach bag and pulls out a bottle of sunscreen. "May I have the honors?"

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one @always-just-red @22carolina08 @lunaizhere @sine-nomine0 @beautifulthingsiadore @lalaluch @nothankyew @terriblesoup @jeleryyy @nezuswritingdesk @anaathxma @ssushi @mina7820 @monophobix @mentaltrouble2201 @mskaylacharite @nerrivm @ichosesparklingtorment @schnittled @animegamerfox @flamedancer13 @rebloggingislove @moonlight-inthe-sea @persepolys @satorubabee @sleepykittycx @perla-drg @17chuuya @slovesyouuu @atinymekanie @astheskycries @nm4565natty @thegreawizards @zeldaisapuppy @ocharavitys @gaychaosgremlin @nyx2021 @aenishas @leiakitty @lemonn015 @zaynessdarling @serena6728 @thatweirdomidas

[unknown-ends]

. . . This deal would break me, I like listening to anything and everything, what do you mean it can only be 5? I don't even know my top 5 genres

For the rest of your life, you’re only allowed to listen to five genres of music. You get 500 million USD, paid in increments, for following this rule. If you break it, you have to pay the money back. Which genres are you picking?

For me, I’m going with House, Soul, K-Pop, Classical, and Alternative.