7-Days Of Recovery With You 🍧🌸

11.11 ~ Pocky Day

Read ⬇ then ⬅ (I'm sorry, I know my doodle formats are all over the place every time X'D)

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A little continuation from a doodle back when Unique Aftertaste was announced. Just so happen that it's also 11.11 atm, aka Pocky Day (in Japan) xd

S/O With Depression- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader, Caleb x Reader requested by: anonnie ⋆˚꩜｡ genre: comfort a/n: hihi lovelies! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ i would like to mention that everyone has different types of depression and goes through different things! i wrote the ones i’m familar with and what the anonnie requested! what might be common for me or from the anonnie that requested can be completely different to someone else! if you want to see more then i’ll write a part 2! hopefully this brings some comfort to those that need it enjoy reading! <3 any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Will do his best to be a light and source of comfort for you

Xavier would stay close when getting out of bed feels impossible. But if you needed space, he’d respect that, keeping you company from a small distance in bed to remind you that you’re not completely alone. He wouldn’t let you stay curled up in bed for too long. He’d gently carry you to the kitchen to make sure you’re fed.

On days when your words don’t come easily and your thoughts feel jumbled, he never interrupts or rushes you. He stays quiet, a hand on top of yours, nodding along while letting you speak at your own pace even if your sentences come out jumbled. Occasionally, he might ask a question to understand the context. When you do finish what you’ve needed to say, he’ll work through it together with you

If you were taking any medications, he’ll go through the entire packet and read through any information about it online. He’ll remember all the side effects that come with it and checks up on you whenever you take them

When every little sound starts to feel like it was too much, he draws the curtains and does everything he can to make it more peaceful. He moves carefully, no sudden sounds will be made in this household. Even the way he eats or shifts in his seat would become more gentler. If you were comfortable with it, Xavier would gather you into his arms, holding you close against his chest. His hand rest gently over your ear, blocking out whatever noise is left.

Xavier would offer to listen and be the place where you can let it out. But if it’s an unexplainable feeling that you just can’t put into words then he’ll find a different way to cheer you up. He’ll settle beside you, pulling up your favorite comfort shows and have your snacks ready

Zayne:

Whenever getting out of bed feels like too much, he’ll leave a warm cup of tea and a few slices of fruit or your favorite snacks by the bedside table. He never rushes you so he waits. Sometimes he’ll sit nearby so you don’t feel alone. Other times, he gives you the space you want, trusting that you’ll reach out when you’re ready. But when it starts to feel like too much and the silence grows too heavy, he will step in. Never forcefully. He’ll encourage you to start off slow, a hand on yours. Maybe something as simple as sitting up or maybe just brushing your teeth.

Anytime you went through a depressive episode, Zayne has no problem doing the extra housework or helping you with your physical health. He’ll help you shower, brush through your hair gently, and help brush your teeth. He’ll praise you for each small step you take

The type to send you reminders to take your meds at the right time and that you should eat something before you take them so you don’t get nauseous.

Zayne would understand and has never taken it personally when you don’t want to be touched. He doesn’t try to hug or reach for your hand. Instead, he makes space for you until you you’re comfortable once again

He can tell when you get sad randomly. Zayne would never force you to explain but he will always remind you if you want to talk, he’s there. Sometimes when it’s just a quiet ache sitting in you for no reason, he’ll also understand that. He’ll suggest a walk out for fresh air or just for a different scenery if you’ve been inside for too long.

When the smallest sounds can feel too much, he’ll make sure to move extra quietly. He’ll offer noise cancelling headphones to drown out any sounds. Any open windows will be closed and he’ll draw the curtains to keep the noise out. He’ll make sure to close any of the doors inside softly, silence his phone and pager and he’ll make sure to give you the space you need.

Sometimes the words just don’t come out right but Zayne would never rush you. He would always be patient, even when your voice shakes or when you pause for too long. And when you do finally get them out, no matter how jumbled or messy it sounds, he listens. Every single word and every detail. Once you said all you needed to say, that’s when he speaks and helps

Reminds you that he is always there for you. Even if he was busy at work and you know he can’t reach you right now, you can still message him. He reminds you to never hesitate to reach out, spam him, leave him voice messages. He’ll read through every word and detail and he’ll find time to immediately reach out to you

Rafayel:

You would never feel alone if Rafayel was by your side. Even if he was away from an art exhibition, he would text you throughout the day. If you need him by your side, then he’s finding an excuse to get out of work and find his way to you.

When you’re having a hard time getting out of bed, Rafayel would be by your side under the covers so you don’t feel alone. However if you continue to have a hard time, he doesn’t hesitate to step in. He’ll scoop you up in his arms, carrying you to the bathroom. He’ll start with something simple, like a warm bath since it can maybe cheer you up.

When every noise seems to bother you, he’ll make sure to move around quietly in the studio. He’ll close up the windows and doors so his seagull friends won’t bother you. He’ll even breathe more quietly so he doesn’t bother you. Rafayel would still stay nearby but gives you your space to make sure you’re not alone. He’ll wait until you’re ready to talk with him

Rafayel would never take it personally when you did not want to be touched but he definitely does get a little pouty about it behind your back. He just misses holding onto you but he understands and gives you the space you need.

Feeling sad randomly? Rafayel would never push you to explain what’s wrong but he encourages you that it’s good to let it out and that he’s always there for you. However, if it was unexplainable, he doesn’t make you feel weird about it. He’ll find ways to cheer you up as best as he can. He’ll pull up videos on his phone and you silly videos he found that might make you smile. He’ll even suggest a quiet walk by the beach just for a change of scenery and for some fresh air

Sometimes the right words just won’t come. They get lost somewhere between your thoughts but Rafayel has never once looked at you confused or has never been impatient. He watches you carefully, trying to understand your expression. Sometimes he finishes the sentences for you, not to interrupt but because he’s piecing it together with you. And if you grow frustrated, he offers to sketch it out with you.

Sylus:

On days when getting out of bed feels impossible, he stays beside you but he doesn’t let you stay there for too long. He understands the weight of it all but he will step in. First he’ll start with encouragement, asking you to sit up just for a bit. But if your limbs feel too heavy and your body refuses to move, he never gets frustrated. He’ll carry you in his arms. He’ll run you a warm bath and help bathe you. Later he’ll encourage you to do some small activities with him to get you a little motivated

He would never take it personally if you were not in the mood to be touched. There’s no wounded ego or disappointment. He gives you the space that you need until you are ready to curl up next to him again. He’ll make sure you were absolutely comfortable with it before he reaches back

Sylus would always give you the choice to talk or cry or let it out to him in whatever way you need. But if it’s those days where it’s just unexplainable, he doesn’t press on. Instead, he’ll offer distractions. He’ll pull out a new vinyl that he’s been saving for or maybe stepping out to a new scenery to get rid of whatever ache you have in your chest

When the world feels too loud and your thoughts won’t slow down, no matter how hard you try to explain to Sylus through hiccupped sobs, he doesn’t ask you to make sense of it. Instead, he pulls you into his arms. He doesn’t say much at first, his hand moves slowly up and down your back. He doesn’t need you to have the right words. He’ll listen, hiccupped sobs or not, to every detail you have to say. When your sobs begin to slow, when you start to breathe a little easier, he’s still there, helping you sort through the weight you've been carrying. It doesn’t matter if the problem is big or small. He’ll work them out with you together.

Luckily your shared bedroom is at the top floor to avoid any noises from the city. However if any noise continues to bother you, Sylus wouldn’t ask what’s wrong, he’ll just move around quietly as best as he can. He’ll stop playing any music on his record player unless you don’t want him too. He’ll make sure Luke and Kieran are not in the same building and he’ll make sure to mute Mephisto

Caleb:

Having a hard time getting out of bed? Caleb would give you the space you need, leaving you your favorite snacks and water by the bedside table with a cute little note and a doodle for you. He’ll check in on you often to see if you’ve eaten or just by ‘passing’ by the room. However if it does stretch on, he’ll kneel beside the bed and offer his hand, suggesting a few easy stretches. He’ll encourage just a small stretch for your arms and then legs next and then a small little walk to the kitchen where he has a little meal waiting in the kitchen just for you

As much as Caleb loves to hold you and have you in his arms, he would never be offended if you did not want to be touched. He would never hover and never pressure you. He gives you all the space and time you need when you’re comfortable again

Feeling sad out of nowhere? He would be SO worried, it would be written all over his face. His first instinct is to check in, offering to let you vent out if you need to. He’s always been a good listener. If it just feels unexplainable and you can’t quite name the reason, then he’ll find ways to cheer you up. Caleb would curl up with you and pull up your favorite comfort shows or movies. Or he’ll bring you your favorite snack or make your favorite dish that you love. And of course, he offers his signature big bear hug.

If any sounds were bothering you, he’d make sure to not make a single sound in the house. No loud footsteps in the halls, no clinking dishes, you name it. He’d even go as far as making sure no plane flies in the direction over your home to make sure you get the peace you need.

Sometimes you can’t get the right words to come out and Caleb would be patient with you the entire time. He lets you speak and lets you take all the time you need to get it out. His hand rests on yours, his thumb traces slow, soothing circles over your knuckles as he reads your expressions carefully. If any tears come out from frustration, he cups your face with so much care and wipes away any stray tears.

ʚɞ cr. for the divider @/ cafekitsune

ʚɞ 𝘕𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯:

ʚɞ my other works if you want to check it out! The Love And DeepSpace Masterlist, Pg. 2

ʚɞ Others:

Wattpad ( still updating it rn )

twitter @/ tbaluverr but idk how to use twitter </3

᧔o᧓ comfort .ᐟ

xavier love and deepspace fluff/slight angst! x female reader. comfort fic. reader is in a deep depression. ong this is js based on me. she feels so empty but keeps going like a robot. xavier helps her feel better. i just wrote this for comfort to myself because i havent been feeling well at all.

Xavier didn’t question why today you seemed to crave his touch and attention more than usual. Normally, affection flowed freely between you and your boyfriend, but lately, an unshakable heaviness had settled in your heart, dimming your once vibrant spirit. Despite your unwavering love for Xavier, nurtured and deepened through time, the weight of depression had become an unwelcome companion.

You lounged in the bedroom of your shared apartment, having not left bed since the previous afternoon. Xavier noticed the deterioration, how you stayed awake till morning, slept through the day, and needed reminders to eat. When he checked on you, concern etched in his features, you waved him off with a feeble excuse about needing a break from hunting, urging him to focus on work.

How was he to continue his day knowing the woman he cherished was in pain? He knew better than to pry when you weren’t ready to open up, fearing it might worsen your state. Yet today, when he returned home, you greeted him at the doorway in one of his hoodies and shorts, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. “Miss you,” you whispered, seeking solace in Xavier’s embrace. He held you tightly, his voice a comforting balm as he asked, “How are you today, my love?” Tears welled in your eyes at his tenderness, and as they spilled over, Xavier gently lifted you into his arms and carried you back to bed.

His murmured reassurances were soft as he laid you down, his hand soothingly rubbing your back. “I’m here. I won’t leave,” he promised, his caring gaze a lifeline in the storm of your emotions. Gratefulness swelled within you for a boyfriend as attentive and loving as Xavier.

Quickly shedding his work clothes for comfort, Xavier slid under the covers beside you. His skilled hands encircled your waist as he drew you close, pressing kisses to the crown of your head. You clung to his scent, fingers tightening on his shirt as if afraid he might vanish. Tears continued to streak your cheeks, each one a testament to the ache in Xavier’s heart. He leaned closer, kissing away your tears, silently urging you to speak.

“Sorry for pushing you away lately,” you finally began, your voice cracking with emotion. Xavier shook his head gently, his thumb brushing away the remnants of tears. “You don’t need to apologise, angel.”

“I feel so lost, Xavi... I don’t understand what I’m feeling... I love you, that hasn’t changed, but I feel drained, empty. I feel like I’m just going through the motions, like a hollow shell. I push you away because I’m terrified of dragging you into this void with me. I feel selfish that you take care of me like this, like some sort of burden.”

Xavier listened quietly, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin, his eyes never leaving yours. When you finished, he caressed your hips tenderly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Never feel terrified about ‘dragging’ me anywhere. Whatever you’re going through, I want to be there with you. I love you deeply, and I’ll be patient. If you need space, I’ll give it. If you want me close, I’ll stay. If you want to stay in bed, wear my clothes, I’ll support you every step.”

His eyes held yours with unwavering sincerity, offering you his heart and strength. You hiccupped through a smile, feeling a weight lift as Xavier’s words enveloped you in warmth and security. “I love you,” he whispered again, his touch tender against your tear-streaked face.

“I love you too,” you replied softly, leaning into his touch. Xavier kissed you lovingly, pouring his heart into the moment, promising silently to be your anchor in the storm until the darkness lifted.

“If you feel like a void, let me fill it with everything I have to give,” he murmured against your lips, sealing the vow with a kiss.

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.

Bunny!Xavier and his strange affectionate habits

there’s always something new with your bunny boyfriend. his habits are so strange!

✎ᝰ a/n: i guess this is a series now lmao. if i were to do zayne or caleb, what animals would they even be. cat and dog? we’ll have to figure this out >_>

dragon sylus version

mermaid rafayel version

𖤐

❥ he nibbles on you! it’s gotten to be a little bit of a problem, but xavier can’t help himself. he’ll nibble on your skin and hair until there are tiny little red marks painted on you. at first you thought these were little hickeys, but the real explanation is much more innocent.

bunnies nibble to groom you! he’ll especially groom you when you’re bed rotting or are too lazy to get up. he wants to make sure you’re clean and if you’re not taking care of yourself — he will! but he also nibbles to get your attention. xavier is known to be pouty and clingy, so if he’s low on your love today he’ll forcefully sit on your lap and nibble on your face until you give in.

❥ he hides in your hair. whenever xavier feels overwhelmed or stressed, he’ll go straight to you and dig his head in your hair. it’s a combination of your scent and your shielding hair strands that gives him a sense of safety. he likes the way your hair feels against his skin along with the way it keeps him warm.

but still — wet, dry, tangled, brushed; he really doesn’t care what your hair is looking like, as long as he can bury his nose in your scalp and close his eyes. this also makes for a good cuddling session!

❥ he eats everything. xavier has the appetite of three elephants and then another three elephants. whether he can cook or not is irrelevant, even if he burns something to the point of it being inedible, he’ll still eat it. snacks you’ve saved for later or baked good you’ve left out gets gobbled immediately by him, and it was only ‘til you scolded him that he stopped. stopped taking you food that is, he’ll still beg.

if he smells a meal in the house he’ll quickly sit next to you and smile silently, hoping that you’ll spare him a piece. he’s learned to be less greedy, go easy on him — but he’ll become extremely elated if you give him a quick nibble. he wouldn’t even ask for a full piece of chicken or bread, just a little slither is enough to keep him happy. he thinks of eating together as bonding.

❥ he mimics you. sometimes consciously, mostly unconsciously, xavier will pick up and mimic your habits. if you have a habit of playing with your hair, xavier will also start playing with his hair to mirror you. if you touch your necklace in thought, xavier will also touch his imaginary necklace while he thinks. it wasn’t until he picked up on your manner of sneezing that you realized you left an impression on him.

you didn’t say anything at first: finding it rather endearing how xavier unknowingly imitates you. but once you brought it up in passing xavier tilted his head in confusion. did he really mimic you that much? he was a little oblivious to that fact, apparently. but even with that realization, xavier doesn’t try and stop himself learning from you. in fact, he tries to tease you by imitating you even more. he loves being like you because he simply just loves you.

❥ he teases you with his ears. xavier knows how much you love his ears, so he’ll use them to his advantage to play. when you’re asleep and he wants you awake, he’ll climb the bed, lean into your face, and move one of his ears over your cheek to stir you awake. in a similar fashion, he’ll use his ears to wrap around your head or wrist as another way to embrace you. the fluffy feel of his ears was always welcome on your skin, it felt like a hug from a pillow.

but by far his favourite way to use his ears on you was when he lightly traced your midsection and thighs with the very tips of his fluff. it tickles you slightly, but the purpose of this tease was to get you riled up and beg for a little more contact. he obliges, of course, but slowly. he loves taking his time with you. by the end of it all, his ears around wrapped around your thighs as he satiates his hunger in a different way this time.

❥ he claps when he’s happy. this can be mistaken as a normal human habit, but xavier does it much more often and eagerly than any regular person. his hands will patter together rapidly to create a very quiet but joyful sound. he has no “normal” way of clapping, he only does it in one specific way to show how content he is. if he thinks the sound is too distracting for the moment, he’ll hide his hands behind his back and pitter-patter them there.

even over small things like finding his favourite ramen in-stock at the store, he’ll clap very quietly to himself before putting it in the cart, and later on, when he gets to show you what he got from the store, he’ll start clapping again from how happy he is to share his excitement. as reserved as he is on the outside, xavier is very chipper on the inside.

𖤐

It's Xavier rerun week!

A Request(if you like it): maybe Luminere x on-the-run mc(maybe even an MC that works in the n109zone for whatever reason/evilmc)? Maybe a lil demanding dom Xavier action?

Thanks in advance if you can!

I hope this is what you were looking for❤️❤️

TW:Smut

🌟You again?🌟

You find yourself in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the N109 zone, air thick with tension.

You hear a soft, almost inaudible sound behind you, like the whisper of fabric on fabric. You turn around and see him, Lumiere, the bane of your existence.

His eyes, as piercing and cold as you remember, are fixed on you with a intensity that makes your blood run cold. He's not smiling, but there's a cruel, almost sadistic glint in his eyes.

You see him take a step towards you, then another, his movements slow and deliberate. He's enjoying this, the hunt, the anticipation of finally ending your life. You know he won't hesitate, not after all this time. You've seen the way he looks at you, the hatred and disgust in his eyes.

You take a step back, your heart pounding in your chest. You're not afraid of him, no, you're afraid of what he's capable of. You've seen the destruction he can cause.

He takes another step closer, a grin spreading across his face. He loves this, loves the power he has over you, loves knowing that any moment could be your last.

"You look nervous y/n" he says, his voice a mocking drawl. "Don't tell me you're scared, are you? After all this time of chasing each other, you're finally going to give up?"

He's close now, close enough that you can see the slight twitch in his jaw, the way his hand clenches into a fist at his side.

You blink, disoriented, as Lumiere suddenly vanishes from your sight. The sudden absence of his presence leaves you feeling exposed and vulnerable, heart pounding wildly in your chest.

You quickly scan the warehouse, your eyes darting from shadow to shadow, searching for any sign of movement. The silence is deafening, broken only by the distant drip of water and the ever present hum of the city outside.

You know he's still here, watching you from the darkness. He's not the type to run away, not when he has the upper hand. No, he's playing with you, enjoying the thrill of the chase, the anticipation of finally ending your life.

You tighten your grip on your dagger, the cool metal a comforting weight in your hand. You won't let your guard down, not for a moment. You've trained for this and you won't let him catch you off guard.

Suddenly, you hear a crash behind you, the sound of something heavy and metal hitting the ground. You spin around, dagger out in front of you, just in time to see a large, rusty pipe come tumbling down from the rafters above.

You dive out of the way, rolling to the side as the pipe crashes to the ground where you were standing just a moment before. You come up in a crouch, your dagger still out in front of you, your heart racing in your chest.

That's when you see him, his figure darting between the shadows, moving with a speed and agility that defies belief. He's coming at you, grin on his face, a long sword in his hand.

You know he won't hesitate, and neither will you. And only one of you will walk away from this warehouse alive. And as he charges at you, you let out a fierce battle cry and charge at him, your dagger out in front of you, ready to meet him head on.

He's fast, too fast, and he anticipates your moves, leaning back to avoid the blade. In that moment you see your chance. You drop to the ground, rolling beneath his outstretched arm, and come up behind him, dagger pressing against the small of his back.

"Don't move," you hiss, "or I'll run this blade through you."

He freezes, his body tense as he drops the sword. You can feel the slight tremble of rage and frustration that runs through his body. He's not used to being caught off guard, not used to having the upper hand taken away from him so suddenly.

"You think you're clever," he says, his voice mocking growl. "But you don't have the guts to do it, do you? You don't have what it takes to take a life, not even mine."

You press the blade harder against his back, until you can feel it digging into his flesh, until you can see the first bead of blood welling up on the surface.

"Don't test me," you warn him "I've been fighting for my life for months, been running from you, been looking over my shoulder every moment of every day. And now, now that I finally have you at my mercy, you think I'm going to hesitate?"

You can feel his muscles tense, can sense the way his mind is racing, trying to find a way out of this situation. But there is no way out, not this time. This time, one of you will die, and sure as hell it won't be you.

You hold your breath, staring at the glisten of his blood on your blade, a sense of satisfaction coursing through you. But your moment of triumph is short lived, shattered by his mocking words.

"You think you got me at a disadvantage?" Lumiere's voice is a dangerous rasp in the darkness, sending a chill down your spine, and then he disappears.

Before you can react, before you can tense and track his movement, you feel the cool silver of your own dagger pressed against the delicate skin of your throat. The edge bites into you, not hard enough to break skin, but hard enough to make your heart race with fear.

At the same time, you feel the firm press of his body against your back. His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against him, holding you in a grip that makes it impossible to struggle. He's so close, too close, his body a furnace of heat that seeps into your skin, making your blood run hot and fast.

His breath is hot against your jaw, his lips brushing against your ear as he leans in close, cold steel pressing harder against your throat as he traces the tip of your own dagger along your jugular" You know, you've been a thorn in my side for far too long. Always chasing you across the city, always just out of reach, always slipping through my fingers like smoke"

You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry, your heart pounding so loudly that you're sure he must be able to hear it. But even in this moment of fear and vulnerability, you refuse to give in, refuse to let him see the terror that grips your heart. You lift your chin, your eyes flashing with defiance as you meet his gaze.

"You talk big for a man in your position," you retort "But I know you won't do it. You can't do it. Killing me here, like this, it's not your style. But I won't give you that satisfaction."

You feel the sharp sting as the dagger's tip pierces your skin, a single red droplet trickling down your collarbone. Your heart hammers wildly in your heaving chest as the cold steel drifts lower, the point pressing gently but insistently over your racing heart.

Lumiere's voice is low in your ear, his breath hot against your neck. "Oh, I'm going to kill you, and I'm going to enjoy it. I've dreamed of this moment for months, and now, at last, I have you right where I want you."

"I would have thought you'd at least try to torture me for information." you say, holding his stare 

A smile curls his lips "I already know everything I need to know, this isn't about information," he breathes "This is about revenge.

Your fingers inch towards your pocket, moving with a deliberate slowness as you try to keep your action hidden from him. The cool metal of the dagger's hilt brushes against your fingertips just as he begins to speak.

"Don't think I haven't noticed your little attempt to grab that hidden dagger" he purrs, "I know everything about you. I've been watching you for months, learning your every move, your every habit...."

"Fuck you!” you cut him off.

"Watch your tongue" he snarls, the dagger digging a bit deeper into your flesh as a result of your outburst. The pain is blinding, white hot and searing, drawing a gasping cry from your throat.

But even as you cry out, you're already moving, adrenaline surging through your veins. Your left hand comes up in a swift, desperate punch, your fist connecting with the side of his jaw with a sickening crunch.

He grunts in pain, his head snapping to the side from the force of your blow. For a moment, his grip on you loosens, the dagger's edge slipping from your skin, a thin line of blood welling up in its wake.

Lumiere's angry snarl cuts off abruptly as your fist swings towards his face once more. He barely manages to jerk his head to the side, avoiding the blow. In the same motion, he slams you back against the rough brick wall, knocking the air from your lungs with a painful grunt.

His right hand drops the dagger and shoots out to grab your wrists before you can strike again, his fingers digging into your skin as he wrenches your arms above your head, pinning you more firmly to the wall with his body. You jerk and struggle against him, your heart pounding wildly in your chest as you try desperately to break free. Angry, vicious curses pour from both your mouths, your voices rising to a feverish pitch as you scream and snarl at each other.

The distance between you shrinks, your faces just inches apart, breaths mingling, eyes locked in a furious, hate filled gaze. And then, without warning, his lips are on yours.

It's a kiss filled with all the anger and frustration that has been building between you for months. Suddenly, he lets go of your wrists and your arms fall over his shoulders.

His lips move roughly over yours, demanding, brutal, punishing. He nips at your bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood, the coppery taste of it mingling with the taste of him.

You feel the sting of the bite, the pain searing through you, but it only serves to ignite something dark and desperate within you, so you bite back, your teeth sinking into his lower lip, tasting your own blood on his skin.

He snarls into the kiss as your nails dig into his shoulder. His hand fists in your hair, gripping the strands tightly, using them like a rein to control your head as he devours your mouth with hunger. You feel the sting of hair being ripped from your scalp, but it only adds to the sensations overwhelming your senses.

Your teeth sink into his bottom lip once more, biting down hard to taste his blood mingling with your own. He hisses, and in retaliation, he forces his knee between your thighs, roughly pushing your legs apart, the hard muscle pressing insistently against your core.

You both moan into the kiss.

You kiss him back with a fervor that matches his, your lips moving against his with unrelenting passion as he presses his thigh harder between your legs, forcing them to open wider, a primal need surging inside you, threatening to engulf you completely.

Unable to resist, you find yourself rolling your hips forward, grinding down against the hard muscle of his thigh. Your body moves on its own, instinct taking over as you mirror his movements, lost in a haze of sensation.

You gasp as his hand slides down your shoulder, your shirt strains against your chest, your nipples hardening into tight, sensitive peaks as his thumb grazes over the swell of your breast.

But before you can process it, his teeth are on you again, sinking into the soft flesh of your lip. You cry out, pain mixing with pleasure, the sound caught in your throat as his teeth pull and nibble at your lips.

Your own hand moves on its own, trailing down the muscles of his chest. Your fingers find the leather of his belt, wrapping around it tightly, desperately, pulling at the buckle as if your life depended on it

His lips leave yours, trailing a path of hot, open mouthed kisses down the side of your face, your jaw, your throat. You can feel his breath, ragged and hot against your skin, his tongue snaking out to taste you, to trace the contours of your jaw. He bites and sinks his teeth into the tender flesh, marking you.

You moan, the sound catching in your throat as your head falls back against the wall, giving him better access to your throat. Your fingers finally manage to undo the buckle of his belt, the leather slipping through the loops of his pants with a soft, satisfying sound.

At the same time, his hands move and roughly grab the fabric of your skirt. He pulls it up, the fabric slips over your thighs, the cold air hits your hot skin as he gathers the skirt around your waist.

You don't stop him. You can't stop him. Instead, you find yourself pressing harder against his leg, your hips rolling instinctively, seeking more of that delicious friction, that pressure, that promise of relief from the ache that consumes you.

He groans against your neck as you grind against him. His fingers trail down your thigh, leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake. You shudder as he shifts his leg away and his fingers reach the apex of your thighs, your core clenching, empty and aching, desperate to be filled.

A broken moan escapes your lips as he traces your slit and without warning, he's pushing your panties to the side, the scrap of fabric a flimsy barrier against the thick length of his fingers. You cry out, as he thrusts two fingers deep inside you, your walls clenching down around them.

Your head falls onto his shoulder, your nails digging into his chest as you struggle to gasp for breath. He thrusts his fingers in and out of you, and the wet sounds of your arousal fill the air. His thumb finds your clit, the sensitive bundle of nerves throbbing and swollen, begging for his touch.

His lips crash against yours once more, swallowing your cries of pleasure as he pulls his fingers from your dripping core. His hand moves to his own pants, quickly undoing the button and zipper with urgent movements.

You hear him growl, a sound of dark desire muffled against your lips as he grips your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh hard enough to bruise. And then, with one hard thrust, he's inside you, his hard, thick length stretching you impossibly wide.

Your head falls back, a sound tearing from your lips that is somewhere between a moan and a scream. You feel every inch of his cock as it pushes deep inside you, the thick veins and ridges stretching you in a way that borders on pain, the sensation so intense, so overwhelming, that tears spring to your eyes.

He is big, unbelievably big, bigger than any man has a right to be. It stretches you to the limit, your walls squeeze around it, desperately trying to accommodate its girth.

His teeth sink into the flesh of your neck, as he pounds into you with a ferocity that borders on violence. His hips slam against yours, the force of his thrusts shaking you to your core.

Your fingers grip his hair desperately as you cling to him, nails raking over his scalp. You rake them down his back next, your short nails digging into the skin through the thin fabric of his shirt, leaving red lines in their wake.

He hitches your leg up higher, his arm sliding beneath your knee, lifting it up and out, opening you wider so he can fuck you deeper. You moan as he hilts inside you with each thrust, your back slams against the wall and you're sure it will be bruised by morning.

He kisses you again, this time deeper, his tongue invading your mouth, dominating it, claiming it as his own. It's a filthy, wet kiss, all teeth and tongue and desperation, and you feel yourself growing dizzy, your head swimming with the intensity of it all.

You wrench your mouth away, gasping for air, before you attack his neck with your own lips, your teeth sinking into the skin. You bite and suck, your own desperate need to mark him, rising up to match his own lust.

You had never known a passion so overflowing, a hunger so fierce that it threatened to devour you completely. It wasn't about gentle lovemaking, nor tenderly exploring each other's bodies. It was a battle, a war, the clash of two souls consumed by lust and rage and a need so desperate it bordered on madness.

Each hard thrust gives you a jolt of pain and pleasure, a sensation that leaves you wanting more. You are drenched, your arousal dripping down your thighs, coating his cock. Your body betrays you, welcoming his every touch, craving his brutal possession even as a part of you screams at the injustice of it all.

And yet, even through the haze of pain and pleasure, you feel a twisted sense of rightness, of inevitability. With him, in this moment, the old rules no longer apply. Boundaries crumble, leaving you raw, exposed and hungry for his touch like you've never been before.

You want to hurt him, to mark him, to make him feel a fraction of the agony and ecstasy that consumes you. Your nails dig into his back, your teeth sink into his skin, and still, you crave more because you fucking hate him. Hate him with every fiber of your being, with every ragged breath, every desperate, needy movement of your body.

Your body trembles like a leaf, shaking uncontrollably as he pounds into you with a force that threatens to shatter you into a thousand pieces. His breath comes in harsh, ragged pants against your skin, the heat of it mingling with the sweat that coats your body like a second skin.

You arch your back against the wall, pushing your hips forward to meet his every thrust, desperate for more, for everything he can give you. Your fingers claw at his collar, the fabric twisting and tightening around his throat, probably hurting him and choking him but you couldn't care less.

His movements grow harder and faster, his need as desperate as your own. You can feel him swelling inside you, stretching you impossibly wider, the coil of tension in your belly winding tighter and tighter until you think you might shatter from the force of it all.

Your eyes roll back, vision blurring, your world narrowing down to the feel of him, the scent of him, the heat of his skin against yours. And then, his fingers are in your hair, gripping it tightly, painfully pulling your head back, exposing your throat to his lips.

You come undone with a scream, your mouth opening in a cry of ecstasy as he bites down hard on your neck. Your body convulses, shaking and shuddering, waves of pleasure crashing over you, drowning you, consuming you, leaving you gasping.

And you hear him groan, the deep sound vibrating through your very bones. His hips twitch and jerk against yours, the aftershocks of his release coursing through him, his grip on your hair loosening as he struggles to catch his breath. Your head falls forward, your forehead resting against his shoulder.

Your legs feel like jelly, the muscles having turned to liquid, unable to support your weight. It's a good thing he's holding you up, pinning you to the wall with his body, or else you would have collapsed to the floor in a boneless heap. Your fingers remain curled into his skin, the red lines of your nails etched into his flesh, a physical map of your desperation, your need, your hatred.

You can feel the heat of his breath on your neck and as the fog of lust begins to lift, as your racing heart starts to slow, a sense of icy horror starts to seep through your veins. Your mind, once hazy and clouded, starts to clear, the pieces of the puzzle clicking into place.

Oh god. Oh fuck. What have I done?

The realization hits you like a punch to the gut, stealing the breath from your lungs, leaving you frozen and stiff in his arms. You just fucked Lumiere.

A wave of revulsion crashes over you, the urge to push him away, to scream, to run, nearly overwhelming. But you're trapped, pinned, held in place by the grip of his arms, the weight of his body, the sickening realization of what you've done.

His body goes rigid against yours as the horrifying reality of what just transpired sinks in, his muscles tensing like a coiled spring. His head, which had been resting against your shoulder, jerks back slightly, the side of his head no longer leaning against yours.

How the fuck did this happen?!

Before he can say anything, you push him away. Your aching, trembling limbs suddenly find strength, a surge of revulsion propelling you forward, forcing him back.

He staggers, his softening cock slipping from your slick, swollen pussy with an obscene sound that makes your stomach turn. But he doesn't reach out to stop you, doesn't try to pull you back into his arms. He stands there, rooted to the spot, his eyes wide and horrified, as you yank your skirt down over your thighs, 

You walk away, your arms shaking, your legs unsteady. But as you put one foot in front of the other, as you force yourself to leave, you can't escape the echoes of his groan, the deep sound that still rings in your ears. The sound he made when he came inside you.

Each step feels heavier than the last, your panties growing wetter and stickier with the evidence of his release. You can feel his gaze burning into your back, the weight of his self loathing a physical pressure that urges you faster, desperate to escape. And then, just as suddenly as it began, it's over.

He is gone. Lumiere disappeared as suddenly as he appeared. But even as the sound of his disappearance fades, you know that he'll be back. That he'll return to torment you, to haunt you, to remind you of the terrible thing you've done.

Because deep down, you know this isn't over. No, this was just the beginning. The first step down a dark path from which there may be no turning back.

"Wake up, Osamu..."

woops!

Cute aggression amplified

✌️🙂✌️

Its illegal to be this cute 💘

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕋𝕒𝕡𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖

Pairing: Xavier x Fem!Reader Prompt: “No, you can't stay here.” Words: ~1.1k Genre: Angst, No Comfort Notice: Some spoiler of Xavier's Myth, Shooting Stars, although not entirely aligned

[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

He staggered back, clearly surprised by how your muttered words reverberated loudly in the otherwise dimly lit room. Cerulean orbs searched for yours skilfully, eyes bright as they were when tracking Wanderers in the darkest of nights.

“What did you say?” A hint of disbelief was palpable in Xavier's voice.

You stepped away from the shadow, hands trembling as you struggled to steady them. Despite anticipating this moment, when confronted with reality, you found yourself questioning whether you could truly accept your sacrifice without harboring any regrets.

“I said, no, you can't stay here.”

Revelation dawned on him. Despite Xavier’s frequent drowsiness, he remained inherently sharp. It was one of the attributes that had made him a highly respected hunter.

“How long have you known?”

“Enough time to understand the over-complicated truth.”

Irritation briefly flickered in his eyes. He looked at the thinning veil behind him, clearly cursing the other party that stepped through it earlier. “Jeremiah told you.”

“I was the one who convinced Jeremiah to tell me everything. You shouldn’t kick his ass when you see him again.”

Xavier couldn’t help but chuckle bitterly at that. Jeremiah, though physically not imposing, could defeat anyone on mind games. That’s why he brought him along on the mission as he needed a logical partner.

He couldn’t comprehend why Jeremiah had agreed to divulge the secrets they swore to keep between themselves—especially to the one person he had hoped would never uncover the truth.

“Besides, you’re not as secretive as you thought, Xav.” You gave him a small, sad smile. “I guess that's what makes us human, right? Despite not being a normal one, having an aether core-fused heart, or having lived for a hundred years, we still can’t stop ourselves from showing our deepest desires during moments of vulnerability. I used to believe that she was your unforgettable first love or perhaps an ex who taught you a crucial life lesson. However, that’s just me shying away from the undeniable.”

As much as you had steeled yourself for this moment, your vision began to blur, and Xavier was fast to engulf you in his hug. You couldn’t help but wrap your arms around his lithe but muscular figure, feeling his warmth and further breaking your heart.

He buried his face in your hair, taking a deep breath to blanket himself in your scent like he always did.

“That’s not true,” his voice came out shakier than he intended.

“But it is, Xavier. You don’t know how many times you called out to her in your sleep. Or sometimes when you look at me, I can tell that you don't truly see me for who I am in this current existence. You can’t deny this, because in doing so, you’re also hurting her…me.”

You had to force your head up to fully face your light. Xavier wouldn’t let you step away from him.

Gently cupping his cheeks, you urged him to focus on your next words. “Face it, Xav. Your queen and I… our resemblances are solely physical. We’re two entirely different persons, made up of distinct personalities. If she was the reason why you were in this timeline in the first place, you cling to the hope of going back to her one day, don’t you? You wouldn’t abandon her eternity, right?”

His hug tightened. “I’m sorry,” he said after some time, head bowed in shame. “I’m sorry, Y/N. Truly, deeply sorry for making you feel less than your worth.”

Despite his painful acknowledgment, you found yourself relaxing, accepting your fate. Xavier's thumbs gently wiped away the tears that had escaped from your eyes.

“But you’re going to be here all alone,” his voice cracked, almond eyes cloudy. “I can’t go back and live peacefully knowing that.”

“If what Jeremiah told me is the truth, I have left you more than once. It’s your time to experience having someone be there when you’re back. This is the time to redeem myself, even when the timeline has gone haywire.”

Xavier shook his head furiously. “We won’t know if the alternative aether core would work. If I go back and learn that I will lose you again and Philos, I would rather stay here with you in the past.”

“You know it will work, that’s why you were so insistent on sending Jeremiah back alone with it, and selfishly waiting at the other end just to make sure it disappears, an indicator that Philos has accepted the aether-core. You know how much Jeremiah wants to go back there, and for everything he has done for you, you believed it was your turn to help him. I can’t take you away from her; it’s not right. It’s not my time to have you.”

“What difference does it make when I’m also willingly leaving you here? You understand that once I step through that veil, we’ll never meet each other again in this timeline.”

As if aware of its existence, the veil dimmed. You eyed it wearily, realizing that the swirling vortex of electric blue and silver had turned almost transparent.

“Xavier,” you sighed when he cupped your hand, reveling at the contact, “we both know that my time in this realm will end, I can’t be immortal here. I would rather face the certainty of our eternal bond in another dimension than linger in the fleeting confines of this world.”

You placed your fingers against his lips, silencing his upcoming argument. “You do realize that if you abandoned me in the future, I would despise you, don't you?" you made a playful comment to lighten the mood, but he was miserable. Filled with guilt and disappointment that he couldn’t control the situation.

You guided his head down to meet your lips halfway. As both of your lips touched in a bittersweet embrace, a silent farewell woven into each tender touch. The palm pressed against his heart felt its rapid beats.

“Goodbye, my light. Be happy,” you whispered those words to his lips.

Xavier should have known that whenever you were around, his caution melted away. That was his greatest weakness. He registered the force that caught him entirely off guard a second too late.

Xavier reached out his hand, losing momentum. “Y/N! Wait—!” he called out, voice tinged with urgency.

As his body was hurled into the closing veil, it snapped shut, swallowing his unfinished words. Sobs wracked your body, each wave of emotion sent your body crashing to the wooden floor.

Moonlight peeking through the windows cast its glow upon the intricate gold of the gigantic frame before you.

Where the veil had shimmered moments before, there was now only emptiness, revealing a cold cement wall that stood as a cruel reminder of the end of a chapter you could never revisit.

While seemingly nearly empty every night, a profound silence enveloped Philo Flower Store differently. Vibrant blooms began to wilt, their once lively hues fading into desolation, while the lush vines that once cascaded down nearby buildings now curled and browned.

⤷ ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST