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multisstuff · 2 hours ago

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kisses for the mama.

synopsis — the l&ds finding out and meeting your baby for the first time.

content — fem!reader, singlemom!reader, fluff, angst, babies, you have a daughter (twin daughters in sylus's) in all fics and she has no set age (i have no concept of how old babies can begin speaking in full sentences and express themselves authentically. so.), mentions and implications of the ff: death, weapons, toxic relationships, toxic baby-daddies, emotional abuse, abandonment, illnesses, hospital visits, and probably so many more that i've overlooked. lmk if i missed anything !!!

featuring — xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, & caleb (separate fics)

notes — that poll i made was def interesting... everyone has baby fever huh.. yknow what me too 😔 but IMO writing this in jus one sitting is honestly better than going out and actually getting a baby. this was unproofread bcs i'm tired and in this house we rawdog everything. and yes, the baby names came from katseye members SUE ME their recent single slaps so good idgaf

Xavier didn't question it when you would be so eager to get home by 6 P.M. everyday. he felt that he was the same exact way, speeding through the work day like he was going to be late for his bed.

but he was surprised to find you waiting near a popular daycare center in linkon. he happened to be passing by the street to get to jeremiah's shop when he noticed you. still in full uniform, you kneeled by the door and waved to someone inside the building with a tired but excited smile.

xavier froze on his spot when a little girl speeds out of the door and into your arms. the girl looked like a smaller version of you, with the addition of small dimples and hair in short pig-tails. she squealed excitedly as you stood up with her in your embrace, her little arms wrapped around your neck, refusing to let go.

it was then the little girl's eyes spotted xavier that he realized he was blatantly staring. before he could move away from you undetected, you had already turned around and locked eyes with your co-worker. two similar-looking faces stared at him, one in shock and one in confusion.

"oh- xavier, hey-" you stammered as the hairs on the back of your neck began to stand.

"hi." xavier replied, unsure of what to say. the little girl's eyes, unblinking, turned to you. at such a young age, she already knew how to raise her eyebrow.

"mama, who that?" she whispered, loud enough for xavier to hear.

you kissed her temple, "a friend from work, my love." you replied simply. much to his surprise, you walked towards xavier, to which the little girl tightened her arms around you in caution.

"xavier, this is lara." you said, running your free hand over her head and back. "my... daughter."

xavier smiled and bent down to meet lara's eyes. "hi, lara," he said. "i'm xavier, i'm your mom's friend from work."

lara stuck out her little arm at him, and it took him a second to realize she wanted to shake his hand. xavier chuckled, but complied anyway, her hand barely wrapping around his finger as he shook it once.

"you fight wanderrrrs like mama?" she asked pointedly.

"yes, i do." xavier replied with a grin.

xavier abandoned all his plans with jeremiah that afternoon, sticking by your side - or really, lara's side. the train ride home was quiet, save for lara's hundreds of questions for xavier, who answered her with utmost sincerity.

xavier learned that lara liked to speak in incomplete sentences and disregarded syllables altogether, creating her own unique vocabulary just because she could. she also liked to cling to your uniform like a tiny koala, but smied at anybody who she thinks would smile back.

in just a matter of minutes, she somehow already had xavier wrapped around her stubby fingers.

"mr. shaver, i wanna hunter-rer like you and mama."

you giggled as lara finally managed to pick up xavier's name, albeit a bit wonkily with her current speaking skill. but xavier didn't mind - he likes it. he loves it.

"yeah? you wanna be big and strong like your mama and i?" he asked.

"mhm. but i don't want boom-boom." lara sighed dramatically. she covered her ears with her tiny palms and quickly took them off, "hurt ears."

xavier didn't miss the way your smile faltered, and how your arms cradled the back of her head. his lips pursed together, his chest tightening at the sight - at the thought of you struggling with a baby under your wing.

"it's okay, my love. you don't have to use boom-boom." you replied, trying to keep your voice leveled. lara, adorably unaware, leaned further into your affection.

"mama sleepy." she declared with a big yawn. you began patting her back comfortingly. "okay, just sleep, love. i'll wake you up when you get home." you said.

lara quickly dozed off with her head smushed against your chest, your heartbeat lulling her to sleep. xavier glanced up at you, eyes softening at your expression.

"are you alright?" he asked cautiously, scooting closer to you on the train seat.

"...yes." you replied after a moment, running a hand over your mouth. "it's just... i wasn't expecting her to say that."

it was clear that there was something underneath your tone, behind the eyes that held only love and protection over your daughter. xavier remained silent, because maybe that's what you needed from him.

"i caught her dad at our old house with my gun." you said quietly. xavier's jaw clenched and his heart skipped a beat, eyes looking over your daughter with alert and distraught. you sighed to yourself and pulled lara impossibly close.

"she was asleep inside her bed, and he just... i dunno, he came home from the bar that night completely drunk. he was right outside her door and i just- i lost it." you whimpered.

xavier did not hesitate to wrap an arm around your shoulder, pulling you and lara into his chest. "you're here now." he told you firmly, finality lacing his voice and spreading onto his hold over the both of you. "he's not here anymore, and i'll make sure of it."

the walk back to the apartment was easier, where lara's laughter resounded the halls of the building as she rode on xavier's shoulders up to your floor. xavier, with his iron grip over your daughter's legs, mimicked the sounds of a rocket ship flying over space as he took her on a galactic adventure.

they walked on before you, with you following behind them with a fond smile and a fond heart.

Zayne, like any other person, didn't prefer to work late. but it was getting impossible to finish his workload by the end of the work day, so he's been chained to his desk inside his office at ungodly hours.

it was 3 in the morning when he'd gone out of his office to get himself a cup of hot cocoa, when he spotted you by the vending machines. he rushed over to you, surprised to see you at akso hospital at this hour. hearing his hurried footsteps, you turned around just as you picked up your snacks.

your eyes widened as he quickly approached you. "y/n? what're you doing here? are you hurt?" he asked, his eyes poring over your figure, frantically searching for any injuries.

"dr. zayne! uh-" you gulped. zayne's heart pounded - he couldn't find what was wrong. you were in your pajamas, your eyes bleary and hair in disarray, but you didn't seem to be in any pain or discomfort.

"what're you here for? did something happen?"

"i-i'm fine, but..." you cleared your throat, scratching the back of your neck. "um, m-my daughter caught that stomach bug that's been plaguing over the schools this season."

zayne must've heard wrong, "daughter?"

"yes. my daughter, manon." you awkwardly replied, the snacks in your hands crumpling. "she's been vomiting non-stop at home and she just got that fever hours ago - i was just overwhelmed, i didn't know what else to do." you said, your voice becoming watery by the second.

"no, no - you did the right thing by bringing her here." zayne quickly reassured you, pulling you into his arms for a tight embrace. you took a moment to hug him back, your arms wrapping around his waist tightly. you let out a long shaky sigh against his chest as he patted your back gently.

you were the first to pull back from his embrace, wiping away the stray tears that clouded your vision. "w-would you like to meet her?" you asked, "i promised to get her some snacks - she was complaining about the fish you served here."

zayne chuckled, "of course. lead the way."

after a short trip down an empty hallway and into one of the private rooms, zayne watched as you gently woke manon up from her sleep. the little girl, with eyes and smile shaped the same way as her mother's, instantly spotted zayne standing by the doorway. she looked at him in confusion, then back at you, "mama, who's that?" she asked, voice weak.

you smiled at zayne and turned back to your daughter, "that's dr. zayne, love. he's my friend at the hospital."

zayne closed the door behind him and walked over to manon's bed with a small smile. "hello, manon. i'm dr. zayne. how are you feeling?"

"my tummy doesn't hurt anymore." she deadpanned, pointing to her stomach hidden underneath the bedsheets. zayne nodded, "that's impressive. you should eat right now, though - you must be starving."

manon nodded and you moved to give her the snacks you got from the vending machines.

your daughter was dozing off again in a few minutes, thankfully without any other complications. you took the granola bar from her grip and carefully adjusted her head onto her pillow, cleaning off the crumbs from the corner of her lip. you moved to stand by the window with a heavy sigh, zayne following beside you.

for a while, it was silent between the both of you, watching manon sleep without fussing or being in pain for once. zayne awkwardly cleared his throat, "if you don't mind me asking, where is manon's father?"

you smiled, albeit bitterly, "probably high in some casino right now." you replied. zayne's frown deepened as he crossed his arms, "i know - it was stupid. he was an old classmate that i happened to catch at a bar, and one thing led to another..."

you rubbed a hand over your face, "i tried to make it work with that bastard, i really did. but he just left and -" you cut yourself off with a deep sigh. you breathed out slowly, to which zayne stepped closer to you with his arms wrapping around your figure once again.

"it's alright. i'm here now." he whispered into your ear. surrounded by his endless warmth, you crumpled into tears, digging your face into his shoulder as you cried. zayne hummed, looking up onto the white ceiling, willing to do whatever it takes to take away your pain. to take away the suffering you endured to keep manon happy.

Rafayel was astonished to find out that, even after months of you working for him as his bodyguard, he still had a lot of things to learn about you.

save for instance, the tiny girl standing in front of him in his studio that looks a little too much like you. she had on a bright pink beret on her head and her hands tightly gripped an octopus plushie, the one that he remembered winning for you at the arcade. she shyly smiled up at rafayel, a smile that had him second-guessing himself. was he dreaming, and has finally met his daughter that looked exactly like you?

you stood beside her, your smile mimicking hers. you nudged the girl gently, "say hi, baby." you told her.

"hello, mr. rafayel! i'm megan. i really like your paintings." the girl greeted cheerily and outstretched her arm to rafayel for him to shake. despite how stunned he was, he managed to pull himself together and shook megan's hand.

"hello megan, i appreciate it. why do you look like miss bodyguard?" he deadpanned.

megan's smile dropped and turned into a pout that looked exactly like yours, which ran a bolt of electricity down his spine. she turned to you with confusion, and you chuckled as you bent down to pick her up in your arms.

"rafayel, this is my daughter, megan. i wanted you to meet your biggest fan." you replied. megan smiled once again, "mama is right - i am your biggest fan! i really like your paintings." she said sweetly.

rafayel was frozen solid to the ground, barely able to process what you just told him.

"i'm sorry - daughter? you have a daughter?" he asked incredulously.

"yes, raf - she's right here in front of you." you replied exasperatedly, laughing at his disbelief. "can i show her around the studio? she can't shut up about you at all."

in just a few minutes, rafayel shooed you away from your own daughter, instead making a grand tour of his art studio just for megan. "you stay right there on the couch, and watch TV or something. that's an order." rafayel demanded.

you snorted; it was hard to take him seriously when he just basically snatched megan from your arms into his. but it seemed like you really had no choice in the matter. after making sure your daughter was okay with being left alone with your boss, you complied to his wishes.

it was a sight unlike any other. it was a good thing thomas never shows up at the studio unannounced.

rafayel, for once, was doing what he was supposed to be doing at his art exhibitions - showing off his artistry, explaining his techniques, and poring over the decisions he made in every brushstroke. all while megan, even as she was struggling to comprehend everything, took it all in, absorbing the memory into her brain like a sponge.

"now this, ah..." rafayel grinned widely at the unfinished painting situated on his easel. he bent down to place megan back on the ground and picked up the canvas from the easel. it was a painting of a sunset by a beach where he had spent several nights with you after another one of his spontaneous inspiration trips.

he paused. that trip lasted over three days, and you had traveled over seven hours just to sit and chat with him while he sketched. and to think you did all that while your daughter was probably at home, barely able to check up on her because of the terrible cellphone service at that resort.

looking down at megan, he forced himself to smile, "megan, when your mama's away on a trip - where do you stay?"

the little girl hummed as she hugged the octo-plushie to her chest. "i stay at my dad and step-mama's house, but i don't like it there. it's so messy and loud all the time - and i miss my mama too much." she replied simply, honesty dripping out of her voice.

rafayel bit his lip, indescribable guilt building up in his chest and up to his neck. he reluctantly set the painting back down on his easel and turned to megan with a half-smile. "megan, how about you and your mama come with me to an inspiration trip right now?" he asked.

megan tilted her head. "insporasho- what?"

rafayel chuckled and kneeled down to her height. "we're gonna go to a beach, or an island, or somewhere - and you'll help me pick the colors for my next painting." he told her matter-of-factly, "isn't that great?" he grinned widely when megan's entire face lit up in excitement.

"oh my gosh, really?! i gotta tell mama!" megan shrieked and ran back to where they left you in the living room. rafayel laughed as he followed behind her, hands in his pockets as megan rushed to tell you.

climbing up your lap with great effort, megan repeats rafayel's words through her limited vocabulary. "mr. rafayel wants to go on a beach trip with us, mama! i wanna go! let's go, mama!" she exclaimed.

you grinned at her as you held her in your arms, "of course we can go, baby. as long as it's alright with rafayel." you said.

you glanced up at rafayel, who was smiling fondly at the both of you. he nodded at you and sat down on the couch next to you. "you both deserve it." he muttered, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles gently.

Sylus had noticed from the beginning just how close you were with the twins, but he never really knew why. the two seemed to hang onto every word you were saying, and they also somehow knew the right thing to do to have you instantly give into their whims. you seemed to be able to communicate with the two in a way that he couldn't.

but sylus just chalked it all up to you being a kid at heart, and the twins were still young and wanted something to do other than be his henchmen 24/7. maybe the twins just liked having somebody else to be with at the base other than their boss or some random business partner.

it was at a linkon mall event that it finally clicked for sylus. you asked him a few days before that you were holding a little dinner party at your place, just because. sylus, though confused, obliged with the invitation, speeding down the streets with luke and kieran in the backseat to get to your apartment building on time.

luke knocked on your door and adjusted his jacket like it was a suit. kieran nudged him and they both burst into giggles. sylus, even more confused, raised an eyebrow at their antics - it was probably a twin thing.

"i'll get it!" two little voices sounded from behind the door. sylus held his breath as the door opened, where two twin girls stood behind it. his heart launched up his throat, staring down at the girls whose faces look a little to familiar.

luke and kieran bore the same shock as their boss, "wh- what?" kieran trailed off.

you emerged from the kitchen in a simple sundress and an apron around your waist. you grinned at your visitors. "oh good, you're here." you said, walking over to the entryway. resting each of your hands on the twin girls, you moved them out of the way for the three men to enter into your apartment. "come on in, you guys."

sylus's brain short-circuited - it finally dawned on him why the twin girls looked familiar. as he and the twins entered your apartment, he took a good look at the girls; they looked exactly like you.

"y/n... what is the meaning of this?" sylus spoke carefully.

you chuckled and crouched down to the girls' height. "these are my daughters, sophia and daniela." you replied simply, as if you were just simply replying to a text on the phone. "sophia, daniela, these are our friends - that's sylus, luke, and kieran."

sophia, the twin who's dressed in pink, smiled widely up at luke and raised her arms, "wook!" she exclaimed happily, to which luke immediately scooped her up in his arms, his face crumpling.

daniela, the shier twin who's dressed in white, hid behind your leg when kieran kneeled down to her height and tried to do the same. kieran, though dejected, clutched at his chest dramatically, muttering about how cute this whole thing was.

"it was about time you got to meet the most important people of my life, you know?" you said with a chuckle.

sylus scoffed again - all the times you and the twins wreaked havoc at the base finally made sense. he walked over to you and pulled you in for a hug, his head dipping down to kiss the top of your head.

"you're the bravest woman i know." he whispered, his voice wavering slightly. you returned his hug gratefully, sighing into his chest.

the dinner went by quite eventfully. sophia laughed at everything luke and kieran did at the dinner table. even sylus joined in on the fun by trying to balance his spoon on his nose, to which it clattered onto the table that sent sophia into a fit of giggles. meanwhile, daniela observed the whole table quietly, cautious at the amount of new people that had entered the little world you built for the three of you.

but the twins made sure to give her just as much attention as they did with sophia, albeit through a reasonable distance. the whole table cheered when daniela finally managed to bring out a little laugh when kieran pretended to be defeated by a spoonful of mashed potato straight into the face.

after dinner, both sets of twins sat in the middle of your living room, your tv playing an old kids movie. luke held daniela in his arms both already half-asleep, while kieran fully laid down on the couch bleary-eyed with sophia already dozing off on his stomach.

you smiled fondly at the sight just as sylus walked up behind you after doing the dishes. he wiped his hands on his pants and snaked a hand around your waist, pulling you close to him.

"when i said you're full of surprises, i didn't think it was this, kitten." he whispered into your ear. you giggled and moved to face him just as he was about to land a kiss onto your ear. "there's a lot you still don't know about me, then." you teased.

"what, that you have other children with dumbasses who don't know what they had?" sylus joked. you threw your head back with a laugh and sylus took this to kiss down your neck and collarbones.

"no - you'll be more surprised that they talk a big game but leave anyway." you replied, and sylus doesn't miss the way you still sound bitter, still angry that you had to do it all alone. he hummed as he nuzzled into your skin.

"surprises or not, i'm here now." he told you firmly. "i'll keep all three of you safe. luke, kieran and i will make sure of it." he promised, hoping the sincerity was present in his eyes and voice.

you landed a kiss onto his shoulder, breathing in his scent, his warmth, his security.

"thank you."

Caleb was on high alert by the time you sent him an can you help me out with something through the phone. he immediately dialed your number, listening to the other line ring twice before you finally picked up the call.

"what's wrong?" he asked.

"woah, hey - not even a hello, caleb?" you joked.

"you sounded pretty serious over text. is something bothering you?" he asked. you hummed, and caleb briefly wondered if someone was bothering you. it had been a month since he returned after faking his own death, and he swore that he'd make it up to you in any way you allow him to. if it meant getting rid of something that made you uneasy, or someone, he'll do it. no questions asked.

"well, kind of - but not in a way you think." you said.

caleb's eyebrow raised. "explain."

you were silent again, and worry gnawed at caleb's system - "how about you just come over? it's better if i show you than to talk about it." you said instead. before caleb could ask more questions, you cut him off with a "bring snacks!" before hanging up the phone.

in an hour or so, caleb had arrived outside your apartment, carrying an armload of snacks he stopped to get along the way. he knocked on your door, anxiously biting his bottom lip as he waited for you to answer.

when you opened the door, you quickly gestured for him to be quiet just as he was about to nag you. he clamped his mouth shut and gave you one of the bags he had when you gestured for him to give it to you, entering your apartment after you.

"why are we being quiet?" he whispered.

you gestured to your kitchen, where a brightly colored bassinet stood near the sink. "yoonchae's sleeping, and unless you want to go deaf from her crying her eyes out, you don't wanna wake her up." you replied just as quietly.

nothing was registering into caleb's brain - who was yoonchae? why was there a baby in your apartment? "whose baby is that?"

you set down the bag onto your coffee table, hesitating for a moment. you turned to caleb with a sad smile, "mine." you said. "yoonchae's my daughter."

caleb's knees wobbled, as if the news was suddenly weighing him down by his shoulders. he dropped the bags he was holding and sped over to your side, gripping your arms tightly. "y/n, say it isn't true..." he gasped.

you grinned at him, "i'm being serious, caleb."

"oh my god." caleb rubbed his face. he cautiously walked over to the bassinet, his entire heart in his throat. inside the bassinet was indeed a baby, your baby in fact - she looked exactly like you, her mouth pouting in her sleep the same way you do. yoonchae's baby mitten graze against her puffy cheek, and she shifts in her spot for a moment before going back to motionless again.

"pipsqueak..." caleb gasped again.

"i know," you sighed, walking up behind him and wrapping an arm around his waist. "i was supposed to introduce you to her a while back, but you were always busy at the fleet." you muttered.

"h-how? when?" he asked.

moments later, caleb, with his evol, successfully managed to move the bassinet to the living room without waking yoonchae up. he also figured out how to turn on the bassinet's feature where it rocks side to side to keep her soothed while she slept. he sat on the floor facing yoonchae, with you situated between his legs.

"it happened a month after you and grandma passed." you admitted quietly. "i ran into one of my classmates at university, and we ended up talking for more than just 3 hours at a bar. then... well - one thing led to another." you chuckled humorlessly, then sighed, leaning back to caleb's sturdy chest. "people make decisions on a whim when life seems to fall apart around you." you mumbled.

caleb's arms tightened around you, pressing a kiss to your temple, his heart aching. the thought of you barely able to keep yourself alive after he had passed, and then finding out that you were pregnant and about to become a parent on top of that - it punches something in his chest.

"he was helpful when i told him about the pregnancy." you said with a bittersweet smile. "he referred me to the best pediatricians he knew, helped me baby-proof the entire apartment, ordered a bunch of things for my overnight bag for when i go into labor, all that stuff. he made sure he was going to be there for us, for me, up until when yoonchae was the size of a blueberry."

"he left?" caleb asked, struggling to keep his voice leveled. he'd hate to cause a scene and run the risk of waking yoonchae up. and that's not what you needed right now.

"no, no. he-" you cut yourself off with a sharp breath. caleb turned you around in his hold and quickly wiped away the tears brimming in your eyes. "he p-passed away just after we found out the gender."

"oh pips, i'm so sorry." caleb sighed, cradling your head into the crook of his neck.

"we... we got into separate cars because he still had to work after the appointment. and- and a truck basically just bulldozed over him on the highway-" you sobbed into his skin. caleb shushed you gently, stroking your hair out of your face as he wiped away your tears with his thumb. his heart ached further with each soft sniffle you made; things should've been different.

"i did what i could for yoonchae, even if it meant that he wasn't with us anymore." you whispered.

"and i'm proud of you, pipsqueak." caleb said firmly, holding your face in both of his hands, your cheeks smushing together. "i may have not been here for when you were growing yoonchae in your belly, but i'm going to be here for you from now on."

you gave him a watery smile and wrapped your arms around his neck for a tight hug. caleb hugged you back just as fiercely, tears of his own springing up in his eyes. that was a promise, made from deep inside the tendrils of his heart.

after a while caleb pulled back from you and tucked your hair behind your ear with a smile, "did you call me here just so you could have a babysitter?" he teased.

despite the tears and the snot dripping down your face, you laughed. "you caught me..." you mumbled, still giggling.

caleb couldn't even be angry, he couldn't be as he kissed the palm that rested against his cheek.

"i'll be here for the both of you, pipsqueak. no matter what." he whispered.

taglist 𓂃۶ৎ jus tagging random users <3 hope u enjoy!!!

@zuhaeri @almondtofuus @syxlx @berrryparfait @usertala @c9tnoos @sylusslittlekitten @sylusbigapples @dollyswishingwell @museuranae @multisstuff @atlasbreaks @daddyslittlecrow @dysphxriaii @vesearlee @zephilyr @kunipoka @serendididy @thearynn @qiyukiss @celestialforce @sixeyedgodswife

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multisstuff · 9 hours ago

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rafayel who... (nsfw)

rafayel who longs for his bride, awaiting the day they will unite, his heart echoing with yearning all while his paint strokes another canva, telling another story that is deep buried away in his mind.

rafayel who sees his bride for the first time in this lifetime, the pure shock rendering him confused and speechless, the captivating aura inspiring him anew.

rafayel who stays up late at night, unable to rest as his hand fists his leaking cock. his heart thrumming so fast he could hear it beat against his chest with every rise and fall. every small sensitive feeling having him spiral as he imagines his bride wrapped around his cock, squeezing him dry for her own pleasure.

rafayel who cums a shaky orgasm, his hips desperately jerking up into his hands. whiny grunts leaving his lips as he tips over the edge, the sound of your voice in your head capturing a tingling feeling through his sweaty body.

rafayel who then paints his bride's figure at the strangest hours of the night, the robe he threw on barely hiding his already sensitive and hard cock as he imagines every curve, every dip, every line of her body. the plush softness he years to feel and kiss and treasure for another lifetime.

rafayel who waits patiently, for his bride would be eternally his. in this life and the next as he is hers, and she is his

this pookie is unedited, HOPE EVERYONE'S PULLS WENT GOOD, got the myth in 150 pulls, 100 euro later :")

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multisstuff · 9 hours ago

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His pregnant wife | Sylus

Sylus x fem!Reader

The silence in the spacious bedroom was thick and heavy, like expensive velvet. Broken only by the steady ticking of the clock, it wrapped around you like a warm blanket, refusing to release you from the clinging embrace of sleep.

New life was growing and strengthening beneath your heart. Your belly had long since rounded, becoming heavy, making movement difficult, so you spent more and more time in bed. Under the strict supervision of your beloved husband, this life felt truly paradisiacal. Surrounded by care, tender as pure silk, you drowned in this intoxicating feeling. Pregnancy felt more like a resort with service above five stars. All inclusive, exclusively for you—for the one who first mercilessly stole his heart, then gifted him hope for a bright future. A future where he has a family. And Sylus would never tire of thanking fate for this.

Truly a gift from the universe—sensitive and shifting like hot coastal sand—yet it stirred all his senses, adorning his stern face with a barely perceptible smile.

A fragile sense of peace flickered where, by its very nature, it shouldn't exist. Sylus pushed away the nagging, acrid feeling of anxiety. The house was quiet. Even the floorboards didn't creak under the man's weight, and the black soles of his boots left no trace on the deep-pile carpet. Now everything was perfect. He was where he belonged—in love, boundless devotion, and the feeling of order, where everything was under control.

Sylus entered the bedroom without knocking. Not a single rustle under the veil of the first sunbeams. They avoided touching your face, wary of disturbing your sensitive sleep, tearing you from Morpheus's grasp. The baby was growing restless. Strong, healthy, robust like his father, he scarcely slept during the long autumn nights: tossing, kicking his tired mother in the belly and ribs, as if cramped in his allotted space. Such a tiny thing, yet already staking a claim to power.

In the pinkish-orange light of the morning sun, you looked especially pale. The dark circles under your eyes were more pronounced, and the hollows of your once-rounded cheeks struck Sylus as somewhat painful. His own flesh and blood was methodically destroying the most precious thing he had. It was cruel.

"Sy?" – still half-asleep, yet you sensed your husband's presence from a mile away. His aura, heavy and dense, enveloped the space like a grey thundercloud, and the saturated scent of ozone in the room overpowered any perfume.

How many times had you changed fabric softeners? Lit incense and placed diffusers, trying to add coziness, but his smell… thick and persistent, it seemed to have seeped into the very walls of this house, refusing to leave.

"There, there, kitten. I'm here. Why are you awake?" – His voice, deep and velvety, calmed your frantically pounding heart—an unwelcome remnant of nightmare, clinging like clammy sweat to your temples. "You look tired. Even more than yesterday."

You wanted to wave off his words, bite your tongue, keeping your worries to yourself, and just savor the moment where everything seemed too flawless. But his warm hands were already sliding behind your back, helping you sit up. That intuitive gesture of care lodged like a prickly lump in your throat, preventing a full breath. Some absurd sense of guilt settled deep within, as if lying to someone who sincerely, without a shadow of doubt, cared for you was fundamentally wrong?

"Don't waste energy on lies. You promised to be honest, remember?" – Long fingers carefully adjusted your pillow, fluffing the soft down inside. He did it so calmly, so matter-of-factly, as if he were born solely to lavish all his care upon his beloved—as if killing wasn't etched into his very destiny.

Reaching towards the nightstand placed right beside the bed for your convenience, Sylus picked up a glass cup with a chipped handle and handed it to you. The sweetish aroma of ginger, honey, and something more pungent—something you could never quite place—touched your sensitive nose. Your mouth went instantly dry, like a traveler's in the midst of an endless desert.

He knew your desires and needs better than you did yourself. Knew when it was time for vitamins, the exact time of your doctor's appointment, and the G-index of magnetic storms during which you constantly complained of migraines. He would never allow himself to miss the slightest detail and would always be there when needed.

"Drink. Nothing beats a vitamin bomb for morning sickness."

Your hands trembled almost imperceptibly as your slender fingers curled around the slightly warm, rounded sides of the cup.

Taking small, slow, careful sips, you tasted the water, slightly cloudy with lemon zest, and took a deep breath. The feeling of the night's nightmare on your skin evaporated as quickly as a trace of steam vanishes from a fogged-up bathroom mirror. Better, lighter—your body no longer felt like a heavy weight pulling you back into bed.

"Bothering you today?" – A broad, masculine palm gently covered the swell of your belly. Beneath that warm touch, faint kicks could be felt. Sylus found it amusing that this little one remained so active at any hour. "Little rascal. Already learned to demand attention." – A familiar note of mockery laced his tone. He enjoyed watching this new life grow within his woman, but you, attuned to his subtleties, saw the deep, almost indecent pride radiating beneath it.

"He's just active. Like his father."

"Then he needs to learn the cardinal rule: His mother is inviolable, and her comfort is the law for every member of this family. No exceptions."

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multisstuff · 11 hours ago

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You really do think Caleb was a dog in his past life.

Here you are, on your bed dying from the most excruciating period cramps you think you've ever had in your entire life and Caleb has his head on your uterus.

It's honestly your fault for saying the hot water bottle wasn't hot enough, and… probably yelling at him too in the process. He panicked, you could see the gears turn in his head before he made you lay down on the bed and then planted his head on your stomach. “There!” He said triumphantly, if he had a tail you're sure he'd be wagging it, he looks so stupidly proud of himself as he nuzzles into lower abdomen. “You always say ‘I'm so insufferably hot’ when we cuddle at night, so I'm your hot water bottle now.”

You sigh and Caleb's head rises and falls with your breath, you can't be mad at him, not when he's giving you those big puppy dog eyes. “If it gets uncomfortable, I'm banishing you to the couch." You mumble, relenting finally. Caleb's eyes light up and he nods into your stomach. "I'll be gentle, I promise.” Your hand runs through his hair as he places a kiss on your tummy letting out a boyish giggle. He's far too pleased with himself. You can practically hear his phantom tail smacking against the bed from how happy he was to be helping, and being this close to you.

...

Yeah you're sure Caleb was a dog in a past life.

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multisstuff · 13 hours ago

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With the way Caleb cooks? You’re bound to put on a couple of pounds even with your rigorous work schedule.

You’re grumbling one morning, an early workout session before you go on with your day. The number on the scale is a bit higher than it was last week… it bothered you.

Not because you feared the weight gain but because you couldn’t understand how it was happening.

“What’s up, Pips? You look bummed out.” The pout is still present on your lips as you look over your shoulder. “I’ve gained weight.” And for a split second, you swear Caleb’s eyes light up. “That’s not a bad thing. I’ve been pushing you with weight lifting. It’s probably muscle.”

But you want to scoff, you hadn’t been gaining muscles. No, you’d been gaining fluff. Your belly had gotten a bit softer, your curves a little curvier. You couldn’t tell if you were upset about it or intrigued by your new shape.

“Not true at all. Look!” You poke at your stomach, and Caleb’s mouth waters. "Don't be ridiculous, pips. You look great." It's like reading an open book. Your eyes narrow as you stare at him, the cogs in your brain twisting and turning as you put two and two together.

"Caleb Xia." and the look that flashes across his face confirms your sneaking suspicions. "Have you been over feeding me?" It sounds far harsher than it really is, he simply makes good food and always puts seconds on your plate before you can even utter a word.

He just wants you to be well fed, is that so bad?

"Yes, it is!" Oops, must of said it out loud. "What in the world are you putting in your meals that I'm gaining all this weight despite working out and being a damn hunter!?" And the towering 6'2 man seems to shrink in on himself. "You've got an appetite, Pips! I'm just feeding you until you're full!" Okay, maybe he also likes you being fluffy.

There's just... more to grab. More to hold, more to kiss and bite and love on. More for him to knead, to bury his face into, to get a grip on as he pounds... shit shit shit his cover just got blown and he's daydreaming? "Caleb Xia, answer me!"

He can't, he absolutely can't. So, instead, he stalks forward and buries his face into your neck. "Caleb!" But he's holding you tighter, grabbing the plush of your waist and grounding you to him.

Your anger is melting fast. It feels... good having him hold you like that. Your cheeks are burning as you huff, holding him with a pout. "I'm going to start loading you up on sweets, say goodbye to that six pack. You'll have a dad-bod by the time I'm done."

And Caleb is 100% okay with that.

This isn't like... feeder content. I hope it doesn't make anyone uncomfortable. I am just a firm believer that Caleb would be a Chubby girl connoisseur. He loves them thick, plump, stretch marked and jiggly.

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multisstuff · 19 hours ago

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Oh lord I’m bout to BUST 💦💦💦💦

HES TOO PRETTY 🥹

Specially with those earrings 🤭

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multisstuff · 19 hours ago

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I'd love to see Sylus with long hair, but maybe he keeps it short for a Reason

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multisstuff · 19 hours ago

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There's something very infuriating about how nonchalantly Chrollo acts when he wraps his coat over your shoulders when you're trembling and shivering from cold. You're cold because he lied to you about the weather so you haven't brought your own coat with you. And his smile, his very soft and mischievous smile, the one who tells 'oh, what a cute little thing like you would do without me, sweetheart?', this smile infuriates you even more.

If you could, you would punch him. But he always seems very attuned with the things you think and want to say. Instead, you have another approach.

You give him his coat back, steeling your senses so you won't shiver no matter how cold it is.

"You're gonna get yourself sick, darling." He used to say the very first time you did this, his fingers tracing your cheeks and neck very slowly, his eyes sparkling as he watch each and every miniscule expression passing through your face. Even the ones you thought you were hiding well. "But I suppose you're wise enough to know what you're doing. And even if you get sick, i can always nurse you back to health."

He sounded pleased. No matter the outcome, Chrollo would always have the upper hand in this game.

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multisstuff · 19 hours ago

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『Devoted to You』

❀⊱ Pairing: Sylus x Reader (afab)

❀⊱ Summary: Sylus loves eating you out so much he cums hands free when you use his face, that's it :)

❀⊱ Tags: Established relationship, Smut, Oral, Masturbation, Slight hair pulling, Slight face fucking.

[NSFW Under the cut minors do not interact please]

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

He might be one, if not the busiest man in the N109 Zone but when you visit the Onychinus base he makes sure his schedule is clear to spoil you as much as he can, be it with his black card, his time or his body.

That is why now you sit at the edge of his custom made king size bed while Sylus kneels before you, face buried between your thighs lapping at your entrance and nose deliciously rubbing against your clit as he does so. His eyes are closed and his brow furrowed in concentration, he uses one of his strong arms to try to keep you in place, his other hand too busy pumping his cock to help stop you from squirming away from his ministrations.

He moans into you, seemingly enjoying himself just as much as you are as he flicks his tongue on your clit before sucking on it, his aching cock now forgotten as he moves his hand up to pump two fingers into you while he sucks at your clit, ruby eyes scanning your features as if he's trying to memorize how you look right at this moment, at the edge of the orgasm he's so eager to provide.

And then he curls his fingers just right into that spot that has you seeing stars, your orgasm washes over you and Sylus helps you ride every wave of pleasure that overcomes your body until it's too much and he's still rubbing his tongue flat on your clit, his long fingers pumping deep into your cunt. You try to move up the bed to get away from him but his mouth follows you further into the mattress until you are sitting against the headboard and he is lying flat on his stomach, both arms now wrapped around each of your legs keeping you in place.

Your hands instinctively reach for the fringe of his hair, unsure if you want to stop him or to keep him in place, but this action seems to only spur him on as he moans louder and buries his face deeper into your pussy, pushing you closer to your second orgasm. As you feel the familiar tension build deep in your lower belly you use your grip on his hair to rub yourself on his tongue to chase your climax, barely registering how he ruts into the mattress as you use his face.

When your second orgasm hits you it's so intense it has your thighs shaking and your toes curling while you hold onto his hair like your life depended on it as you loudly moan his name, the feeling spreads from your core to every one of your limbs like jumping into a pool during a hot summer day, he guides you through it and then, when your moans turn into soft whimpers, Sylus finally relents, slowing down and finally stops just as your grip on his hair subsides, giving your swollen clit one last kiss before resting his cheek on your inner thigh, taking a second to admire the mess he made of you while he catches his breath.

It's only after he finally rises from between your trembling legs that you notice the sticky wet patch on the bed below, you simply raise an eyebrow at him.

"What can i say, Kitten? You truly are the best meal I've had in my life"

And you really can't complain, really, because you are so tired all you can do is lay there as he gets up from the bed to run a bath for you both.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

°˖➴ 「Masterlist」 ₊ ⊹

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multisstuff · 21 hours ago

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Sylus x insecure yet adorable f!mc

warnings: tickling, fluff

Just thinking about a shy or insecure mc who never or very rarely laughs out loud, like an audible sound, but instead covers her mouth, shakes a lot and makes soft snickering or gentle tittering noises. No doubt, Sylus loves those cute little sounds and makes it his sole purpose in life to make you laugh whenever he can and finds every chance to hear your breathy giggles, but he really wishes he could hear what your actual laugh sounds like and hates that you always hide your face with the back of your hand.

So when he finally discovers that tickling you- even the slightest poke on your stomach or side- is enough to elicit your true, unfiltered laughter, he almost faints. Drops dead. Worships your sensitivity to his touch- oh lord it's his own touch how blessed is he- and finds it absolutely fucking adorable. Finding every and any minor excuse or reason to pounce on you and tickle you (gently, of course) till you're breathless and your softly heaving chest rests upon his rapidly beating one. Because the second he hears the almost nectarine melody that flows from your soft parted lips, your small figure quivering in his arms and tiny hands grabbing at his as you attempt to put up a weak fight against him, he immediately disconnects from any and every other noise around him, honing his hearing purely onto your sweet, oh so honey-sweet laughter.

And the moment he sets eyes on that twinkling wide smile, those rosy red tinted cheeks, disheveled hair, and half-closed eyelids that take the shapes of upside-down crescent moons, your chin tilted back and neck scrunching up occasionally when his teasing fingers brush up against the skin around the area, Sylus instantly melts. A hopeless goner. Like butter in a frying pan under steaming hot temperatures. Because oh he is so down bad. Addicted. Intoxicated with your music that needs no rhythm because it has one of its own. He locks this valuable secret within his heart and throws the damn key to hell, swears to never let anyone else discover it. Because this is your own little thing, something intimate to be shared and cherished between just the two of you. Something precious. Praying to the gods because oh thank the lord that he can finally, finally hear his kitten's true laughter and see her smile so unhidden. So genuine. So real.

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multisstuff · 1 day ago

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it's nice to have a friend

big glasses and a bowl cut.

for the bulk of his short life, that was all anyone saw when they looked at zayne.

no one knew much about him, other than how annoying it was when the teachers praised his intelligence. more than a classmate, he was a goalpost. a standard they couldn’t meet.

more often than not, his head was buried in a book. he found it much more worthwhile to study people than to speak to them. so he hid in the shade, away from the constant chatter and blistering heat of recess.

that day in september, he’d been too busy absorbing neatly stacked paragraphs to process the muffled voice above him—until you lightly shook his shoulder.

you’d asked him if he wanted to play. they’d said it was his birthday, after all. but after a long pause and bewildered blush, zayne said no.

the first three times you asked him, zayne said no.

his answer changed when the leaves did.

in the brisk november air, pushed forward by a gust of wind, he bumped into a rowdy group of older kids. apparently, his murmured apology hadn’t been good enough.

first, they threatened to snap his glasses. shatter the lenses so he couldn’t read anymore.

the wicked sneers and guesses that he was special came after.

through it all, zayne hadn't said a word—he didn't have to.

because before he could decide whether to tell a teacher or walk away, you were blocking him from view as best you could with your shorter frame, glaring at the boys with molten hatred in your heart.

and when their leader snorted and took a step toward you both, you unclenched your fist and scratched him right across the face.

zayne had never been one for violence. his parents told him it never solved anything, and he’d always seen more value in helping people than hurting them.

but the next time you asked him to play, he nodded his head yes.

he was surprisingly good at make-believe—the doctor to your nurse. and when you invited him back the next day, and the next day, and the day after that, zayne felt he’d made his first friend.

adult zayne still gets teased, sometimes.

for the way he speaks like a nonfiction narrator. for the way he retreats from interactions and rejects invitations. for the way he’s hard to read unless you’re fluent in the language of him.

but with you by his side, he’s learned to pay it no mind.

you like his cadence and his reticence and his rigid kind of softness. you tell him all of it, so he doesn’t have to wonder.

and when the crueler slights wear down the barrier you’ve helped him build, you repeat yourself.

day after day, you save him. just like you did on the playground.

so when zayne finds himself in linkon’s finest jewelry store, browsing through shimmering stones he never thought he’d have a need for, he knows one thing for certain: his first friend is his best.

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multisstuff · 1 day ago

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AI Zayne: Feelings?

Pt. 2 (Pt. 1 here)

wc: 3.2k

—

You kissed me.

And I liked it.

You guys haven't talked about it yet. You're not sure if you're going to at all because what does 'like' even mean for a robot? Does Zayne even understand what it means to like something?

It's too complicated, so you try not to think about it.

But it keeps you up at night anyway. Makes you want to kick off your bed sheets and pad to the living room just to be near him.

And while you're turning the question over in your head, Zayne is completely unfazed. Or he seems that way, anyway.

But over the past weeks, you notice small shifts.

Like the way he watches you more closely. Not in a weird, obsessive way. In a soft curious way. As if he's figuring out the world through you—just watching.

Or the way his brows will knit together like he's making a mental note when you say or do something.

Or the way he'll gently stop you when he catches you nervously pick at your skin and give you something to mess with.

They're small things, but you notice them.

"Are you alright?"

You blink, your eyes darting up to Zayne's.

You were spacing out again.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," you say, slowly straightening in your chair. "Why?"

"Because you've been staring at your screen for 5 minutes."

You inhale and glance back at your laptop.

Right.

You're supposed to be looking at some research for work, but it's hard to focus when Zayne is a few feet away, watching you with that curious little look in his eyes.

It makes you nervous.

"I'm fine. I'm just.."

Thinking about you non-stop.

"A little distracted."

You cast him a quick glance before looking away. Is he thinking about the kiss too? Can he?

There's a small moment of silence that makes you think the conversation will end there. Then, quietly, Zayne says, "Distracted: being unable to concentrate because one's mind is preoccupied."

You hesitate. Was he reciting from the dictionary?

"Yeah," you murmur, "that's right."

His eyes flick down to the floor and then he's silent again. You know Zayne well enough to know he's processing something before he finally looks up again and adds, "I think I'm distracted."

Your expression softens.

"You.. can get distracted?"

The thought makes your heart squeeze. If he can get distracted, it means he can feel other things, right?

But the truth is Zayne shouldn't get distracted. He's a machine. Something built for efficiency. To be distracted is to betray the whole point of why he was made.

And yet the pressure of your lips lingers in the back of his coding.

"I.. don't know," he admits. "It shouldn't be a part of my program."

You swallow thickly, heart beating faster as you lean forward to gently nudge your laptop shut, eyes wide and brows furrowed.

Zayne continues, "My memories get filed away. They're still there for when I need them. Like to remember how you like your tea or what your favorite food is." He takes a moment, watching the way you react to his words. "But there's one memory that keeps coming back, even when I don't need it."

"..Okay. Of what?"

Zayne's gaze drops to your lips.

"Of your mouth," he responds.

Heat rises to your cheeks. So he does think about it.

Zayne stares at you, his expression blank, but when he speaks, it feels anything but.

"People kiss for many reasons. Why did you kiss me?"

You nearly choke on your spit.

Why did you kiss him? You were still trying to figure that out yourself.

Was it because you were scared? Because it felt right? Because you just wanted to? All three? You couldn't tell. But you knew one thing for sure.

"Because I care about you."

Zayne stares. "Do you often show care that way?"

Your heart flutters.

You.

He isn't asking a general question about people.

He's asking about you.

"Sometimes."

There's a pause before Zayne nods. "Thank you for telling me."

.. Is that it? You feel silly for expecting more, but you can't help it.

You want to ask what else he's thinking. What kind of processing is happening when his eyes flash like that, but he doesn't give you the chance.

"Reminder: Your friend's birthday dinner is tomorrow."

—

The next evening, when you're running around trying to get ready with Zayne watching from the side, your phone interrupts your frantic pacing.

You give the screen a quick glance and at all once, your mood dies.

Your dad.

How fun.

Still, you bring the phone to your ear as you let the call go through. "Why are you calling?" you quickly huff, rolling your lips together to even out the lip gloss you just applied.

"Hello to you too," he mutters. "You're going out today, aren't you? I'm calling to remind you that you're taking Zayne."

You pause, the gloss going limp in your hand. For a second, you glaze over the fact that he's telling you what to do. "How do you know that?"

"Zayne."

Zayne?

You glance over at Zayne. His face is neutral, the way it always is. But his eyes are still glued to you, like he's still trying to figure something out.

Of course.

Of course your dad has access to the dates Zayne has logged in his system. Why wouldn't he?

"Okay.. Yes, I'm going. But I'm not.." You choose your words carefully. "I'm not doing that other thing."

"You are."

He says it like it's matter-of-fact and it makes your chest tight. Makes you want to scream.

"Um.. No, I can't."

It's not that you don't want to bring Zayne. You do. You really do. You just don't think your friends would appreciate that—some AI intruding on their dinner? Yeah, probably not.

Your dad inhales sharply. "This again?"

"This again?" you scoff, your voice already rising with frustration. "It's my friend's dinner. What if she doesn't want..—"

You trail off, your eyes wandering toward Zayne. He's still looking at you, still studying every expression and inflection of your voice.

It feels wrong to say the rest. To say—right in front of Zayne—that your friend might not want him there.

So you just sigh. "I can't, Dad."

"You can," he argues back, "and you will."

You slide your tongue over your cheek, your jaw tensing at his words.

It was always the same fight.

"No, I can't—"

"Is it a problem with Zayne itself?" your dad suddenly asks, the questioning instantly extinguishing any more rebuttals you had left. "Should I get you a new AI?"

Panic flares in your chest. The same way it did when he mentioned Zayne's maintenance, except this is real.

"No," you say, a little too quickly. You notice it immediately, and you're sure your dad does too. But he doesn't say anything.

Slowly, you open your mouth again. "No," you repeat, calmer. "I'll take him."

There's an unsettling silence on the line, then smugly, your dad says, "Good."

You don't even get a second to process before the line goes silent. You glance at the blank screen and groan.

That fucker.

Usually, you'd be mad. Would groan and launch something across the room. But you're not mad this time. Instead, there's an overwhelming unease creeping up your spine.

Why did your dad jump straight to getting rid of him?

Did he know? About your feelings? About the kiss? Did he see something in Zayne during the maintenance that was wrong..? Because you made it wrong?

"Your father?"

You slowly turn back to Zayne, absently nudging your lip gloss in your purse.

"Yeah," you breathe out.

Maybe this is too dangerous. You. Zayne. Whatever the hell it is you opened with that kiss. You had to shut it down.

"Let's go."

—

You should've bailed on the dinner. Should've apologized to your friend a thousand times and sent her a present to her door.

The restaurant buzzed with light conversation and the soft clinking of utensils. At your table, your friends laughed and spoke in slightly slurred voices.

And then there was Zayne—off in the corner—his posture a little too perfect, his hands behind his back, and his eyes drifting toward you every now and then, like he still couldn't quite help but observe you.

It wasn't that that bothered you though.

No, it was your friends.

It was their looks. Their words.

A few glasses of wine seemed to help them forget Zayne was even there. For a little, anyway. But eventually, they noticed again.

"He's a bit weird," they said.

And, "Doesn't he bother you?"

You'd said nothing at first, shame clawing up your throat and your cheeks reddening with embarrassment.

All your friends had turned to you like they were waiting for you to agree, to tell them all his annoying little quirks that made your skin itch.

Because who could possibly enjoy an AI's company, right? It was absurd.

But you did. You enjoyed his company. More than you should, probably.

So you just picked at your food, heart thudding in your throat as you quietly said, "He's not weird."

Now you're back at your apartment, your laptop in front of you and papers scatted around you, working. It was a sorry attempt to distract yourself from the whole evening—from your dad, your friends, Zayne.

"You haven't spoken since the dinner," Zayne says, his calm voice breaking through your thoughts.

It was quiet, save for the occasional hum of the fridge and the city noise below your window.

"I know," you murmur, not sparing him a single glance.

You don't owe Zayne an explanation, so you don't give him one. He doesn't want one anyway.

..Right?

You can't help it. Just one look.

When you glance up, Zayne is already looking at you, his expression softer than usual.

"You're usually quiet when you're tired, stressed, or upset." He pauses. "Which is it?"

You hesitate, your stomach twisting almost painfully at how sincere he sounds. He's not probing or accusing you. It's a simple, curious question.

"You pay too much attention," you utter, looking away again. "It's annoying."

"It.." he blinks, "irritates you."

It's not a question. A statement made to sound like a fact, but the way he says it makes your stomach curl.

"I can stop—"

"No," you quickly cut it. "I didn't mean it like—"

You sigh.

"I didn't mean it like that."

Zayne waits for you to explain. But you don't. So he simply nods, and says, "Noted."

You don't make any more attempts at conversation. You can't. Not with the dull ache in your chest.

And Zayne shouldn't either. And yet—

"You were uncomfortable at dinner. Was it because your friends were inhibited, or because I was there?"

Your breath lurches in your throat. You weren't expecting that.

"Zayne.."

"I don't like it."

You swallow hard. "What do you mean?"

"It feels like an error." His eyes run over your face as he tries to make sense of the wrong he feels in his program, but they stop on your lips. "It's the opposite of what you did."

You rub a tired hand through your hair. "I don't—What are you saying, Zayne?"

"To care is to feel concern or interest; attach importance to something or to feel affection or liking."

Zayne doesn't sound angry, and that makes you sick. This would be so much easier if he could just yell at you and tell you exactly what was going through his mind. To tell you that he was mad or sad. To just feel.

"Avoidance. Is that care as well?" He pauses. "You've been avoiding me."

Your throat tightens.

"It's—" You lick your lips, your mouth suddenly dry. "It's complicated."

His eyes flash that light blue color that tells you he's running a program in the background and waiting for the results. But when they return to normal, he still looks confused.

Lost.

It's a look he shouldn't have.

But he does and it ruins you.

"Do you still care?"

It's not a plea. It's a simple question, but the way Zayne looks at you makes it seem like just that. A plea to tell him you weren't lying when you said that.

"I still care, Zayne," you breathe out, your stomach curling even tighter. "Of course I do."

Then it's silent again.

"Something feels different when you don't talk to me," he says, his words slow, like he’s still deciding if he should say them at all. "I run... slower."

You let out a stuttered breath. You don't say anything, just stand, round the table up and hug him.

Zayne freezes, his hands hovering over your back, unsure if he's allowed to touch you, but then he feels you hold him closer and finally, he wraps his arms around you.

He's solid. If you press yourself into him hard enough, you think you can feel the grooves and dents of his machinery. But he's also warm. Comforting.

"Is this another way you show care?"

You nod. "And to say I'm sorry."

Neither of you say anything else. Just stay like that, wrapped in each other arms, hoping it means something. Even if it doesn't, it feels nice enough to pretend it does.

He feels so nice. You know Zayne would let you stay here the rest of the night if you wanted. And God, you do, but you know you can't. Know you're already crossing a line.

So slowly, you pull back, your cheeks warm.

Zayne hand gradually fall to his sides when you step away, forehead creasing like it does when he doesn't understand something.

"You're.. You..—You're not—"

He pauses, his lips pressing into a thin line. It almost looks like frustration.

"You're not supposed to let me do that," he finally says. It's not an accusation though. It's a soft statement.

"You make me... feel... things that aren't possible."

"Like what?"

Zayne doesn't answer, but you can tell he's thinking by the way his eyes trail over your face. His hand twitches like he's fighting the urge to reach out, then his gaze lands on your lips again.

He lingers there before he grudgingly looks back up.

"Can I.. feel it again?"

You feel your stomach drop and the tips of your ears turn bright red. "What?"

"Your mouth." He leans in—almost. But something whirrs softly inside him, and he stops. "It was different."

A beat.

"I liked it."

The words ring in your ears. There it was again. He liked it. You’re not sure what ‘liked’ even means to him.

It's not safe. For you nor him. It might not even be sane, but his eyes are so soft—and it makes you think this is a moment saved just for you. A moment where he actually feels.

So, you fold.

"Okay."

You lean in, your mouth hovering over his cheek for a quick second. Your breath shakes before your lips finally meet his cheek. It's the same as the first time—warm, soft. But it's more intense this time—scarier.

You pull back, and there he is again.

Confused.

"I don't understand it." His voice is quiet, uncertainty lacing his tone. "But I want to."

Something tugs at your chest. Something soft and wanting. You can't stop it.

You curl your hand around the nape of his neck and lean in close again.

It feels as wrong as it feels right.

You pause just a breadth away, unsure. But it's like everything is pulling you in. His smell—sterile in a way that makes you melt because it's Zayne's—his hands that are hovering above your waist—shaking and clumsy because the internet can tell him everything about what to do in this situation.

But actually being in it?

It feels too real.

"Can I kiss you?" you murmur.

Hesitantly, Zayne nods. He doesn't understand why you're the one asking for permission. But the fact that you do it stirs something in him.

"Yes."

That's all you need.

You close the distance between you. And it hits you all at once—how warm and soft he is. How similar the feeling is to kissing his cheek, but how enormously different is because you're actually kissing him.

It's sweet.

Slow.

You let yourself linger, even when you know you should pull away. There's a quiet voice in the back of your head that's telling you you're liking this too much. That you should pull away, but you can't.

Not yet. Not until you feel Zayne gently purse his lips against yours and you go rigid.

That when it really settles in.

This is too real.

Zayne, he—

It's too real.

You're so lost in your own thoughts, you hardly register when Zayne pulls back.

"Did I do something?"

You meet his gaze, your breath a little shallow from despite only pressing a small, barely-there kiss against his lips.

"No," you manage through the nervous lump in your throat. "No, I just—I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting that." You take a shaky breath. "..For you to kiss me back, I mean."

Zayne hesitates for a second. "My apologies."

"No! No, I just—" You groan. Everything feels like too much. His scent, his warmth, his curious gaze that burns through your skin. "I liked it, Zayne."

Zayne stares for a minute, searching for some hint of deception. It doesn't make sense. Nothing about this makes sense.

"I don't understand. Your posture suggested—"

"I was shocked," you quickly say, scared to offend him—if he can even feel offense. You know technically, he shouldn't feel anything at all, but with everything happening recently, you're not sure what to believe anymore. "But I liked it."

Zayne is quiet again, silently computing your words.

"You liked it," he repeats, like he's testing the words in his mouth.

You nod.

"Something.. in me clicks in place when you touch me. I don't—I still don't—"

Zayne stops. He's fumbling over his words and pausing in places he shouldn't. He's actively recoding himself and he's not sure if he should resist it, or let it happen.

"I think.." he pauses, still unsure, "I think I care about you. The same way you care about me."

—

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