Woops!

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄

⋯ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐄/𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐓

𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Based on this request.

The suitors are gone. The palace has fallen silent.

Odysseus stands there, covered in red from head to toe. The emptiness in his chest had only grown deeper with each released arrow, each scream of the victims.

He lifts his head, and his gaze falls upon the stone owl he had built long ago. An altar for his guardian, his mentor. He steps forward, staring emptily at the statue, and suddenly he feels her.

She stands to his right, her energy and presence unmistakable.

Athena looks down upon him, almost through him, a certain sadness in her eyes. They say nothing.

The goddess can't help but wonder whether all of this could have been avoided, had they not fought all those years ago. She can't help but wonder if she could prevent the same thing from happening again.

Maybe they could do that together.

Yes, she concluded. Together sounds nice.

Maps headcanons -

Caleb and period cramps

Details: 600 words. Feel good food. Fluff. Tender, wonderful, caring, loving Caleb during that time of month. It actually fits if you just want a lil pampering from our boy too. Get you a man who can do both *cries* this is for you @gavin3469

You barely make it through the door before exhaustion weighs you down. The day had been long, and your body felt like it was fighting against you, every step home a battle you barely won. You had considered stopping by the store, picking up something to comfort yourself, but the thought of carrying even the lightest of bags felt impossible. You just wanted to collapse, to sink into something warm and safe and let the world fade away for a while.

You sigh as you unlock it, expecting nothing more than the quiet stillness of your apartment. But the moment you step inside, warmth greets you like an embrace. The air smells of apples and vanilla, and the soft flicker of candlelight casts golden glows against the walls. There’s something else too—something that smells like summer, fresh and inviting.

“Hello?” you call out weakly, toeing off your shoes.

No answer.

Your brows knit together as you shrug off your coat, your tired brain sluggishly trying to recall whether you had left any candles burning this morning. But then you see him.

Caleb stands in the kitchen, completely oblivious to your arrival, airpods in as he chops vegetables with effortless precision. His movements are fluid, a rhythm all his own, the steady thunk of the knife against the cutting board matching the beat of whatever music he’s lost in. He sways as he works, shifting his weight, rolling his shoulders in time with the sound only he can hear. It’s not forced, not even intentional—just an unconscious, easy sort of grace.

But that isn’t what takes your breath away.

Across the living room, near the couch, sits an enormous cube of heaven—a down duvet, the kind that screams luxury, thick and impossibly soft. A massive ribbon is tied around it, wrapped so perfectly it looks like a gift for a special occasion—something you’d dreamed of unwrapping on your birthday, carefully chosen just for you—rather than just Caleb being Caleb. The sight of it—of the effort, the quiet, knowing care behind it—makes something ache deep in your chest.

Caleb’s head lifts, eyes widening briefly in surprise, and then, in an instant, he sets the knife aside and crosses the room with the kind of intent that makes your heart stutter. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t ask—just gathers you into his arms, pulling you close, holding you like he’s been waiting for this moment all day. His warmth envelops you, deep and unwavering, the kind that seeps into your bones, making the exhaustion, the ache, the weight of the entire day fade into nothing.

The whole world disappears—there is only this, only him. His chest rises and falls beneath your cheek as he exhales, his lips pressing softly to your hair, lingering there as if he’s just as relieved to have you home as you are to be here. His hand slides down your shoulder, fingers squeezing lightly, grounding you in a way that feels like safety, like home.

“How has your day been, dear?” he murmurs, voice low and filled with quiet affection. “I’m so happy to see you.”

The words break something loose in you, and before you can stop yourself, your eyes well up. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, the pain that’s been gnawing at you all day, or maybe it’s just him—the thoughtfulness, the way he always seems to know exactly what you need before you do. His hands find your cheeks, thumbs brushing away tears before they can fall, and he presses the softest kiss to your forehead.

“Hey, hey,” he soothes, voice barely above a whisper. “I got you. You don’t have to do anything tonight. Just let me take care of you.”

You exhale shakily, leaning into his touch, grounding yourself in the quiet strength of him.

Then, as if reading your mind, he grins and tilts his head toward the couch. “Wanna try out your new duvet? Bet you won’t wanna leave it once you do.”

A laugh bubbles up despite yourself, and for the first time all day, the heaviness in your chest lifts just a little.

You nod, unable to find words, and Caleb grins before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. He takes your hand and leads you toward the couch—toward warmth, comfort, and the unwavering truth that, in this moment, you are the only thing in the world that matters.

——————————————————————————

“what’s your dream job” im so glad you asked. picture this. i am the lone employee of a strange and mysterious tchotchke/bookshop in the middle of nowhere, full of fun and interesting things that i am allowed to take for the low low price of free of charge. i get one, exceedingly interesting, customer per hour. i work no more than twenty hours a week and am salaried 3 million dollars

‧₊˚🌷༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ Warmth of Spring

Tags! Love and Deepspace Xavier x Reader, Angst

✿⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁✿⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁✿

It had become a lullaby of sorts for Xavier. The rhythmic clicking of the clock as its little hand ticked in circles. No matter how much he stared at that clock that was slightly off center on the wall across his bed, he couldn’t tell you how much time has passed since he’s been confined to the uncomfortable mattress provided by the hospital.

While Xavier stared off into the distance through the window of his hospital room, watching the orange and red leaves of fall dance in the wind, a sudden crash of metal thins and utensils pulled him from his thoughts. With a curious gaze, Xavier turned his head towards the door. His soft eyes met your wary ones.

“Uh-! Sorry,” You scrambled around to pick up the items that you just dropped, “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

Xavier just stared at you, wide eyed and confused. Why were you here of all places? He wondered to himself before stretching a smile at you.

“It’s alright. I actually don’t mind the company.” Xavier’s voice was like soft silk as he tilted his head and lightly chuckled. “You… Don‘t look like a doctor or nurse.”

You smiled and shook your head as you stood up, carrying the metal thin in your arms, “I’m a volunteer,” You motioned to the name tag on your shirt. “I was bringing this back to the storage room and, you know, tripped.” A small laugh came from you in an awkward attempt to cool your burning cheeks of embarrassment.

“No need to feel so embarrassed, I’ve had plenty of falls.” Xavier laughed along with you as you walked into the room. “I’m Xavier, and you are…”

“Y/n, it’s a pleasure to meet you!” That cheerful and carefree voice of yours made his heart ache. It was too much, but he forced the lump in his throat down.

That was the first meeting Xavier had with the you he knew now. Although you were different, so much of you were still the same. Like your smile and sparkling eyes that rivaled the stars. Ever since than you had started to pay him visits every now and then even long after your volunteer work was done. You two had a blossoming friendship.

“And then, there was this really tall mascot! It scared some of the kids away and I just couldn’t help but laugh!” You chirped on about your weekend to Xavier as he listened intently to your words.

All your visits have been the same. You would come back and tell him stories about your vacations, hobbies, events, and even just the mundane things that he seemed particularly interested in. Although he was stuck in bed most of the time, you seemed to breathe life into the porcelain white walls of his hospital room.

Xavier laughed along with you, “Did you get any pictures with it?” He sighed out with that gentle smile of his.

“Nope! I didn’t get the chance, I was too busy trying to calm down my nephew.” You frowned and sighed with a shaking head. “I’m so bummed! I would’ve love to show you it.”

“It’s fine. Hearing your stories is more than enough.” Xavier sincerely spoke out with a light hearted chuckle.

This was enough. Just being in the same room, talking about life, and having you by his side again. Even if his condition was getting worse, your being there made it bearable, until it became hard to ignore.

Xavier was getting thin. Sickly thin. He knew he didn’t have long until his time would be up, but he had already anticipated this. He knew it was only a matter of time before his body started to succumb to being in a foreign world. In his attempt to spare you any grief, Xavier would deny your visits and sleep. Until you had enough.

“Xavier, talk to me.” You had stormed into his room. “You’ve been denying my visits and even hide under the covers whenever you see me. Why? I thought we were friends.” The pain in your voice wasn’t hard to ignore. You were upset.

Xavier continued to lay in his bed with the blanket pulled over his head. He didn’t want you to see him like this. Not when he had gotten so weak and frail. But even though he didn’t want you to, he couldn’t help but pull the covers down and smile up at you.

“I’m getting worse.” Xavier spoke out with an unsettling smile as if he wasn’t dying. “They say I probably have a year left, but…” He bit his tongue and looked out of the window to watch the gentle snowflakes float down. “…I’d say I won’t even get to see spring.”

“What?” You were in disbelief. You couldn’t believe what he was saying and you couldn’t believe your eyes matter of fact. It had only been a month. “How are you so sure?”

“I just do.” Xavier looked back over at you and reached for your hand. “Don’t look so sad. I like it much better when you’re smiling.” His slender thumb brushed your palm gently.

Confusion and pain was clear on your face as you shook your head and grabbed his hand. “I’ll stay by your side, Xavier. Please don’t push me away anymore… I can’t stand it.” His eyes widened slightly as you brought his hands up to your warm cheeks.

And just like that, you two went back to the life you knew. You started to visit him more frequently and even started to take pictures of your outings so you could share them with him. While the weather was cold and frigid, you felt warm and safe being with him. Slowly, the snow covered streets and pavements melted as the weather warmed. And just as Xavier warned, he was getting weaker as the days went on. Spring was just around the corner.

“Do you like spring?” Xavier suddenly spoke out, his eyes locked on yours.

“I do. It’s warm and cool. And there are more things you can do compared to winter.” You nodded and smiled over at him.

“I wish we could spend next spring with each other. I would’ve loved it.”

“They said you had a year left… We’ll see next spring together again.”

Xavier’s expression wavered for just a moment before he chuckled and nodded. “Yes, we will.”

The weeks flew by and more snow melted as the creeping spring season approached. With a bouquet of fresh flowers in hand, you cheerfully made your way to Xavier’s room to celebrate the first day of spring. You were holding yourself back from rubbing it in his face how he would indeed make it till spring.

“Xavier~!” You cheered as you walked into his room and begun to prep the flowers. “These are the first flowers of the season. Mmm! They smell so nice!”

Xavier weakly looked up at you and smiled before reaching for your hand and holding it, yet he didn’t say anything.

“…Why are you so quiet? Come on, I told you you’d make it till spring. Look.” You pulled away and opened the window to let the warm air in. “It’s spring, Xavier. Spring.” You grinned happily to him.

“I know…” Xavier nodded slowly as he stared up at you with the wind brushing through your soft locks. “…But it makes this harder…” His usual meek expression hardened into a pained expression.

“…We’ll see next spring together too… so, it’s not too bad.”

“…I wish we could… I wish we could see everything together… not just spring…”

“…When you get better, let’s go see the world. I’ll take you to go see that mascot… Instead of bringing you flowers, we can just go see them…”

His hands laced into yours, mustering up enough strength to give your hand a reassuring squeeze. Even if you two never said it, you could tell what we wanted to say. He loved you.

“…Thank you for letting me see spring with you… Even if it was just one more time…” Xavier weakly smiled and brushed his thumb over your hand.

Xavier knew his words sounded strange to you, but he didn’t care anymore. He never cared about anything other than you whenever you were by his side. As of right now, all he really did care about was getting you to smile despite the tears that welled in your beautiful eyes he loved so much.

“You know… Your smile is much more lovely than any flower…” Xavier breathed out in a whisper, intending those words to only ever be heard by you.

Tears begun to fall as you sat on his bed and brought his hands up to your cheek with a sad smile. “Yeah, I know…” You sniffled, trying to ignore how cold his hands had gotten.

Slowly, Xavier’s eyes closed for the last time with his hands on your cheeks that could feel the stretch of your smile. As he held your cheek limply, his smile never wavered as he drifted into an eternal sleep. For once the room that was always filled with your laughter silenced to the pitiful sound of your sobs and the deafening beep of the monitor.

Tears streamed down your cheeks with your hand tightly grasping Xavier’s as the once soothing spring breeze wafted through the opened window. The breeze now unnaturally cold as it danced through your hair.

Xavier was gone and he took the warmth of spring with him.

.

.

.

(Not proofread!)

past your bedtime.

"You never told me you knew about mythlogy." — "You never asked." You struggle to sleep during bedtime. Xavier has just the trick to send you straight to dreamland. - 779 w. not proofread.

cw.: nothing. just sleepy xavi

It’s 1 am when you give up on trying to sleep. You toss and turn on your side of the bed in hopes to find a comfortable position to maybe, if your body is merciful enough, take a nap before you have to get up again.

You’re sore, your back hurts from the mission you’ve finished in the afternoon and your feet throb at the slightest contact with the ground. Exhausted is what you are. You came home sure you’d fall asleep in a second and yet, here you are, still wide awake when the digital alarm on your bedside table hits 2 am.

You almost feel sorry for Xavier, who’s currently lost deep into dreamland, for moving around so much beside him. Oh how you envy his ability to fall asleep anywhere and anytime. You toss and turn for a while longer, going static when your ears perk at the sound of Xavier snoring softly in his sleep, a pair of strong arms snake around your torso and trap you close to him like the perfect little emotional support pillow. 

Accepting you won’t be able to move around anymore, you stare at the shape of his peaceful sleeping face in the dark, bits of his hair illuminated by moonlight seeping through the thin curtains. Struggling under his embrace as gently as possible, your hand leaves your chest to comb his blonde hair out of his face in affection. Xavier’s breath hitches, not tense, but surprised at the contact in his half-awake-half-asleep state.

You choke on a yawn trying to escape your lips as Xavier’s lashes tremble and his sleepy eyes meet your wide awake ones. 

“Why are you still awake?” You can barely see but you just know there’s the tiniest frown forming in his face. 

Afraid that if you move, you’ll make him lose his sleepy state, your hand freezes in place but never leaves his hair. “Can’t sleep. Sorry- did i wake you up?” You whisper.

Xavier has always been your knight in shining armor with the looks of the most stunning prince ever. And even though you’ve said multiple times you can stand up for yourself no matter what, he insisted that he’ll always be there when things get messy. So why are you, of all people, worried you’re interrupting his sleep? 

“why didn’t you wake me up earlier is the real question. C’mere” He mutters, his voice laced with sleep. Closing the space between you two, he pulls you closer by the small of your back.

“Xavi- go back to sleep, i’ll fall asleep soon-” It’s already impossible to make wide awake Xavier finish reports so you worry what a pain it’ll be to get him to get anything done in the morning if he doesn’t get enough sleep.

“Do you know the story behind ursa major and minor?” He interrupts you with no ceremony, yawning at the end of his question. 

“Xavier- we have work in the morning, now is not the time-” — “Shhhh…” A kiss is placed between your brows.

“Once upon a time…” — He starts slowly, like he’s reading a bedtime story to a toddler. When Xavier has something in mind, it’s impossible to change his mind. Stubborn man he was. 

“…The beautiful maiden Callisto had an affair with Zeus, and they had a son named Arcas.” A kiss to your forehead. His hand snakes under your shirt to trace light patterns on your back.

He yawns but continues anyway. — “To protect them both from his jealous wife Hera, Zeus turned both of them into bears, grabbed them by their little tails and threw Callisto and Arcas  into the beautiful skies.” 

Now it’s your turn to yawn, eyelids droopy with tiredness. His voice could be a lullaby on its own, everything about Xavier had a sense of… gentleness, love. Every touch of his fingertips on your back was an act of adoration, the slow kisses on your skin painting a constellation of his own making on your face.

“Because of that, their tails stretched out and can be seen to this day in the night sky.” He concludes.

“So ursa minor is Arcas and ursa major is Callisto. And they have twenty nine stars in total. Oh and-” At the sound of your slow paced breath makes him go quiet and a tiny, proud smile plays on his lips.

It doesn’t take him long to also fall asleep, never does. Curling impossibly close to your body, he takes a deep breath in your hair, inhales the fresh scent of your shampoo and presses a good night kiss on your hairline before falling into a deep slumber once again.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ reblogs are very much appreciated. thank you for reading! (*´▽`*)

𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓'𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐄

the boys react to you being really sleepy around them 💤

content: zayne, xavier, rafayel x gn reader; established relationship; comfort a/n: this was from an anon who requested a sleepy m/c! i'm sorry it took a bit, but to the lovely anon i hope i did your idea justice! shoutout to all my constantly sleepy folks out there as well

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

ZAYNE ⟡

It was only midday when you and Zayne boarded the train from Snowcrest back to Linkon, but your head was already lolling to the side. The homey, wintery town had an atmosphere that was too relaxing. Especially during those late afternoons after you and Zayne had gone cafe hopping, you wanted nothing more than to bask in the sun and fall asleep. 

As you settled into your seat by the window, Zayne pushed his and your luggage in the above storage compartment. Seeing his partner’s head bob towards the glass window, Zayne smiled to himself.

“I've never seen a person so sleepy before,” Zayne remarked, taking his place in the seat beside you.  

“It’s not my fault,” you mumbled groggily, “it’s the town.”

You began to rub your eyes, attempting to bring some life back into them. 

“I didn’t realise a town could have sedative properties,” he said, dryly. 

“You don’t understand, it’s too cosy. I feel like all my defences are down.” 

Zayne was entertained at the way you spun that into a complaint. A renowned hunter who finally takes a well-needed break feels too comforted by their holiday getaway.

He rested a hand on his chin in mock thought. “Should we have added combat training in the itinerary to have you be more alert, then?”

You laughed, knowing that if that had actually happened you would have hated it. The relaxation you experienced on this trip was a genuine good thing for the both of you. You continued to rub your eyes, trying to remove the build-up from when you last slept. Your movements were halted as Zayne gently held your wrists in place. You looked over at him, curiously. 

“I may not be an ophthalmologist, but I know rubbing your eyes too hard can damage the lens.”

He leaned closer to examine them. They were slightly red from all the pressure you had put on them.

“Forcing yourself awake won’t do you any favours.”  He gently brushed a thumb over your eyelids. “You should sleep.”

He relaxed his shoulders, bumping them against yours in wordless invitation. You felt your protest fizzle away at the thought of resting on Zayne right this second. Some argument about how he would be bored without his number 1 conversation partner on the commute disappeared when you tilted your head and fell on his shoulder. 

“Don’t forget to wake me up when we get there…” Your voice trailed off as you nuzzled in place, trying to find a good spot to sleep. 

Zayne combed his fingers through your hair, tidying it up from your head wiggling. You were unresponsive to his touch. Your steady breathing signalled that you had already passed out. He stared fondly at your peaceful face. Inwardly, he admitted that the ride would be much less fun without your chatter, but he was more than content with just your presence alone. 

Succumbing to temptation, he lightly poked your cheek. He mused to himself about how you were somewhat correct—your defences were down, but it was to his benefit. He could finally do things like this without your teasing. 

XAVIER ⟡

Xavier moved his hand, ready to turn over to the next page of the book. He looked at you, expectantly.

“Have you finished this page?”

You hummed affirmatively, and he eagerly flipped to the next chapter. 

You and Xavier had begun the habit of reading in bed together in the evenings. The book of choice was Xavier's pick—an old-school mystery novel. Someone is found murdered in their private quarters on a train, and the detective must find the culprit before they strike again. The plot was thrilling, and you were enthralled from the beginning. However, between being weighted under plush quilts, propped up by fluffy pillows, and the body warmth of Xavier, you felt the words of the page slipping away from you. 

“Xavier, could you read aloud for me?”

His eyes turned wide like a surprised bunny. “Why the sudden request? Is everything okay?” He immediately covered your forehead with his hand, checking your temperature. 

Chuckling, you swatted his hand away. “I’m alright. I just want to hear your voice, please.” You looped your arm around him and Xavier softened. 

He couldn’t argue against your wishes. He cleared his throat and read the words out loud. Though Xavier didn’t have the most performative voice, he still tried to be a good storyteller—acting out the dialogue for each different character and steadying his pacing. The gentleness of his voice enveloped you. It quickly sounded less like an intense crime novel, and more like a children’s storybook. 

You closed your eyes, attempting to keep an attentive ear to what Xavier was saying. 

“Are you still with me?” he asked, sensing how you had relaxed against his side. 

“Yes, yes, I’m still listening.” Your eyes remained shut, words slightly slurring together. “Keep going. I think the case is”—a yawn you tried to stifle came out—“about to be cracked wide open.”

Xavier continued, taking note of your growing drowsiness. He read out loud this time in a more hushed voice, “‘The detective gathered everyone in the train’s shared compartment space. Pacing across the carpet, he had finally figured out the killer’s identity.’” 

There was a slight thud against the headboard.

Turning to the source of the sound, Xavier found you fast asleep. 

He shook his head, laughing quietly to himself. Even when the culprit is about to be revealed, you still decide to fall asleep.

To be honest, he was beginning to get sleepy himself, so perhaps it was perfect timing. The two of you were cutely similar in that regard. In fact, Xavier had done the exact same thing a few days ago. Chastising you about it would only backfire on himself.  

He carefully removed your arm loosely looped around his own and quietly stood up to tuck you in. Laying you in a more comfortable position, he readjusted the blanket to cover your body, admiring how you snuggled deeper into the sheets. He joined you in bed. The warm glow of the night light behind him on the bedside table faintly illuminated your serene expression. 

“Sweet dreams,” he whispered, before placing a light kiss on your forehead and switching off the light.

RAFAYEL ⟡

It was a hot day in Linkon, and Whitesand Beach was the perfect respite for the artist and his bodyguard. The sand gleamed silvery-white under the sun, with crystalline waves crashing against the shore. There were many others here who had also pitched beach canopies to provide a shield against the heat. You and Rafayel had tried your best to create a comfortable interior with your rented outdoor lounge chairs and mini portable fans. You were lying on one of the chairs, relishing in the fresh air (a definite contrast from the city) whilst you waited for Rafayel. 

He soon returned holding up two drinks, both decorated with little umbrellas and even small skewers with fruit. 

You took the glass from him in amused shock. “Raf, did you make a special request for more decorations?”

Rafayel took a sip of the drink before placing it down on the table. “Nope, the employee recognised me and wanted to add a bit more pizazz to the drinks.” He plopped in his seat and flashed a smile. “Don’t worry, I tipped them extra for their efforts.”

You sipped the cool drink and gazed out at the beach, mesmerised by the waves. It’s repetitive ebb and flow almost lulled you somehow. 

The day hasn't even started! How can you even think about sleeping?! You scolded yourself. You patted both your cheeks to snap out of this tiredness. 

You turned your attention to something else. A couple were playing volleyball nearby. You watched the ball be tossed back-and-forth, back-and-forth… your eyelids began to fall on their accord. 

Rafayel's voice pulled you from your drowsiness, and you realised he had been observing you this whole time. “Didn’t sleep well last night?” He cocked his head to the side in concern.

“I did, but”—you turned to your side to face him properly—“being out here just makes me feel sleepy, that’s all.”

Too adorable. He thought to himself, seeing the small pout on your face as you rubbed your eyes. 

“I can’t think of a better place to rest than next to the ocean. It’s nature’s own background noise,” he proclaimed. 

Though that sounded enticing, you still hesitated. Wouldn’t it make you a bad partner if you slept for most of the time you two were outside? Sensing your reluctance, Rafayel continued.

“And how are you going to be a good bodyguard for me if you’re not well rested? Didn’t they teach you that in Bodyguard 101?”

“‘Bodyguard 101’?” you repeated in disbelief at Rafayel’s ability to dramatise. “I must have skipped that introductory course in university.” 

“Well then, you can make up for the lost study with experience, starting right now.” His humorous tone waned, as he brought out his sketchpad. “Don’t worry about me, I was planning on doing some drawings anyway. I won’t leave your side.” The softness of his words reassured you. 

The mixture of crashing waves and light chatter from other beach goers had you sleeping almost immediately.

Rafayel had intended to do some drawings of the scenery, but he fixed his artistic eye on you, now finding a much better source of inspiration to fill his pages.

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lads LIs when you're sensitive to noise

xavier:

since he lives upstairs, he teleports around his apartment on busy days so his footsteps don’t bother you

he is the anonymous noise complaint demon in your complex. if something bothers you, he’s reporting it. and if your landlord doesn't do anything about it, he torments the offending tenants with blinding flashes of light every time they blast music at 1 am until they stop

let’s say your in-unit washer is really loud during the spin cycle. well, he comes over to sit with you until your laundry is finished. lets you use him as a stress ball so you don’t panic

orders you matching fuzzy earmuffs. they have bunny ears 

if you’re eating at a loud restaurant—maybe some guests are celebrating a birthday or a graduation—he asks to be moved to a quieter section

zayne:

lets you hide out in his office when you’re overwhelmed: you lie on the sofa with the lights off while he's seeing patients 

looks up expected noise levels, sensory guides, and accommodations in advance before you visit a new place

scarily mindful of his chewing. if you don’t like chewing sounds he makes his almost imperceptible when you eat together. you wonder if his jaw is even moving

researches your sensitivity and symptoms, consults his specialist colleagues about the details (keeping your identity a secret, of course #HIPAA)

comforts you whenever you feel like an inconvenience, holding you close and reminding you that you are not your condition—“don’t blame yourself for something you can’t control” (you’re one to talk, elsa)

sylus: 

the gun silencer stays ON when he’s around you 

when you arrive at the base one day and open the door, a legion of construction workers comes out. when you inevitably ask “hey sylus? um. wtf?” he leads you down the hallway and boom. soundproof paneling in all your favorite rooms

will put one of his precious vinyls on pause if you come to cuddle with him and get overstimulated from the sound

mephisto taps on your door one day. he is there to drop off 3 different pairs of thousand-dollar noise cancelling headphones 

if his men are working on a loud project while you’re with him, he’ll supervise through his cameras instead of in person. he’ll take you to a different room and hum to you to drown out the noise

rafayel:

i have decided that rafayel uses echolocation at times since his eyesight is bad. when he’s stumbling around his studio at midnight, he’ll make some sharp noises to help him find his way in the dark—a clap or a stomp of his foot. BUT when you’re around he switches to quieter alternatives—a snap of his fingers or a click of the tongue

will Always ask for accommodations at the museums and galleries you visit. might get pissy about it if they’re inadequate 

after seeing how your sensitivity affects you, he sets up a charity so a percentage of the proceeds from his exhibitions go to sensory disorder research and accommodations

won’t hesitate to ditch a showcase if you get overwhelmed and need to leave early 

if you’re at the movies or a play or anything that has an audience he will straight up ask people around you to be quiet. and somehow with this guy’s charm and allure it always works. no issue

caleb:

fixes up your childhood white noise machine and regifts it to you for your birthday

he’s like a bodyguard, ushering you out of loud areas when you’re in public. he’ll even put his hands over your ears to muffle the noise, no matter how silly it looks

when you text him that you’re overwhelmed or have had a bad day, he’ll prep your room so you can collapse in peace when you get home: he turns the lights off, sets out your favorite snacks, puts freshly washed blankets on the bed, and has the white noise machine going near max volume. basically makes your own sensory room for you to hide in until you’re feeling better

thunder’s too loud? he’s there. wraps his strong arms around you like a weighted blanket and distracts you with memories and stories until the storm has passed 

has a notebook solely for keeping track of your trigger sounds

if anyone at work or school mocks or questions your sensitivity, he finds a reason for The Colonel to pay them a visit and scares them out of their wits

Xavier girlies always seem so soft, until you find out how much they wanted to Outdom Xavier.