i'm your fan!

You cut him off by roughly pulling him in by his collar, smashing your lips to his. The kiss is sloppy, all teeth and heat, as a deep flush floods Rafayel’s cheeks and spreads straight to the tips of his ears. 

As you continue backing him into a wall, his legs give out, finally buckling beneath him. A few minutes ago he had been basking in strangers’ attention like sunlight. Now he’s hiding in the shadow of an alley, flushed red beneath your touch. 

“Wha…!” He doesn’t attempt to fight for dominance, suddenly shy as you kiss him stupid. “Haaah…hold on! You’re being too rough— hnng…!” 

While shutting him up again with a nip to his plush and swollen bottom lip, Rafayel hurriedly pulls his shirt over his crotch to hide his growing bulge. 

“Hiding something?” 

“H-huh? Hey– hah…!” Amused by his pathetic attempts to form a coherent sentence, you lick the corner of his mouth playfully before pulling away–the same mouth that had been charming half the street moments ago, could barely form a sentence now. 

“Well, Rafayel?” 

His cheeks flush even deeper, eyebrows knitting together as his lips pull into a pout. As he sulks, he clutches the hem of his shirt tighter, clumsily pulling it further down to quell his embarrassment. 

“I’m…sorry.” He tries to even his breathing, struggling to keep eye contact with you. 

“For?” 

“I said, I'm sorry for being late, okay?” It almost comes out as an embarrassing strangled whine. Rafayel squeezes his eyes shut, as if trying to hide himself from you, sprawled on the ground and desperately trying to regain his composure. “Are you going to keep bullying me?” 

You smile, satisfied with the state he’s in and his apology. “Mhm. That’s better.” With a quick peck to his lips you straighten, holding your hand out. “I’ve had my fill. Come, we’ve got some shopping to do.” 

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” he replies weakly, grasping your outstretched hand. 

“Needed to get you off your high horse.” 

𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫

⏔⏔⏔⏔༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⏔⏔⏔⏔

"Again?"

Confused. Puzzled, even. It had been the 6th time today where you spontaneously summoned him, what's the reason this time?

Despite the confusion, a feeling of warmth settles in the depths of his heart at the thought of him being the demon you reached for first.

If you ever do this once more, he might defy his pride to beg you to do it once more. Often, even.

"To what do I have the honour to help you with this time, silly human?" 

A strong gust of wind sends black feathers scattering across your room, painting your room in darkness as Lucifer emerged with his wings spread, heeding your call. At your silence, Lucifer takes the initiative to speak, "Do you ever have an idea of what you're doing?" His tone aimed to mock, but as much as he tried to hide it, you knew him well enough to know he was trying to mask his affection.

"Just felt like it. And I wanted your company." Your nonchalance that came in the form of a shrug made Lucifer's brow quirk. "Just…felt like it?" Lucifer slips out of his demon form as he repeated your words slowly, trying to grasp how your main reason was because you simply could.

Though, you weren't wrong.

Lucifer stood in the middle of your room, shocked, while you pat the empty space next to you. The demon sighs as your actions snapped him out of his puzzled trance. With a feigned disapproval, Lucifer shook his head and shuffles over to sit next to you, your bed dipping from his weight.

"Is there…any other reason as to why you called for me?" Lucifer placed a gloved hand on your shoulder, his touch was welcoming feeling that you leaned into. 

"No." "No? Alright." Taking it as an invitation to enjoy your company, the Avatar of Pride wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles his head against your shoulder in an effort to chase your warmth. Lucifer presses his lips close to your skin before mumbling in an uncharacteristically needy tone,

"I'm busy, but never too busy for you. I missed you too."

𝐌𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐧

⏔⏔⏔⏔༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⏔⏔⏔⏔

"Damnit! I said I'll pay ya ba- MC?"

Another very shocked demon but quite used to your antics by now. If anything, he enjoyed the feeling of being called by you. (After all, he is your first)

You watch his eyes quickly scan your body for any injuries, incase you called him for an emergency.

The sigh of relief that he takes is an obvious one as he skips over to join you on your bed.

"Mammon, did you really think I was a witch?" you said through chuckles while the flustered demon flails around next to you, his velvety wings fluttering nervously. "N-no?! What are ya even blabbering about? Witches? Don't know any of em!" Mammon puts his hands up in surrender, trying his best to pretend for as long as he can to happily soak in your affection and attention.

"Are you not going to ask why I even summoned you?" You punctuate your curiousity with a poke to his puffed cheek. "Nope." "What about how my day was?" "Nah." "What about…my grades?" "Ya have to be kidding, never!" "Do you love me?" "No- WHAT?" 

A switch flips within Mammon as he immediately starts pleading with you to forgive him for his wrongdoings, his hands gently holding yours while he rambled apologies. However, all it took was your thumb tracing his knuckles to hush him. "I'm only kidding…I wanted your company, silly."

"F-fine…The Great Mammon accepts ya horrible reasoning, puny human! I guess I love ya…only a little."

𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧

⏔⏔⏔⏔༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⏔⏔⏔⏔

"Gah! I was just about to hit the max level cap on Ruri Hana Magical Monsters that released just an hour ago! W..wait…M-MC?!"

Instead of confusion, Levi was embarrassed. 

Was very curious as to why you summoned a 'completely worthless, gross and filthy otaku' to your room.

Starts rambling about you being upset at him for dirtying your room and starts rushing to your door.

Stops once you tell him to come sit next to you, which greets you with his flushed expression.

"M-m..m…me…? Sit…next to…y…y-you?! You're kidding! If you even think I could sit next to you, it would be cursed! It would be like saying Azuki-tan isn't Ruri-chan's best friend! O…or that Seraphina is mid!" Poor Leviathan was rambling a mile a second before eventually caving in to you, reluctantly sitting next to you on your bed while mumbling promises to 'clean your sheets after' because of his 'filthy otaku germs'.

"S-so…" Levi's gaze rested everywhere but you while his tail flicked around continuously. "Levi." "A-ah! Are you…mad at me or something? Is that why you summoned me? "No." "Then…?" 

"I was bored. And I missed your company." You finished with a small shrug while the poor demon shook in his place like a boiling kettle, ready to spill over. "Y..y-you…you missed…me?" He pointed a shaky finger to himself while you nodded. 

A quiet 'of course' was mumbled before you crawled closer to Levi and rest your palm on his cheek, which nearly sent said demon into another realm.

"Do you…miss me too?" 

you asked him innnocently; already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from him. Levi started making incomprehensible sounds as he tried to stammer a good enough reply while you giggled at the sight infront of you. Finally, after many deep breaths and flustered stutters,

"I-I do! I…missed you too! And I l-love you, I really do!" 

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐧

⏔⏔⏔⏔༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⏔⏔⏔⏔

"Need something?"

Appears completely unbothered with a book in hand, as if he was anticipating this.

"Nothing? That's alright." Takes your silence without offence and even offers to leave to let you enjoy your peace and leaving his question of why you summoned him unanswered.

Luckily for him, you pat the empty space next to you on your bed, which throws out any prank ideas or rational thought from his mind as he gladly takes his place next to you.

"Anyone I need to take revenge on?" Satan's voice sounded pleased as he questions you, his spiked tail resting calmly against his leg, a conscious decision he made as to not tear up your bed.

You shook your head and calmly reply, "not at all, actually." "If so…then why?" Satan waited for your response with bated breath, going so far as to leave his book unattended next to him.

"I missed your company." 

That was all Satan needed to get uncharacteristically flustered. Him? The Avatar of Wrath? Flustered? Never. But here he was, his face flushed as he tries to play it cool like he always does. 

"Don't hide from me." Be it an order or a small request, Satan regains his composure and stops hiding his face behind his hands. You wait for a reply from the fourth born as you reach a hand to carress his cheek. You felt Satan tremble under your touch while his eyes flitted away from yours as he prepared to speak again,

"Fine, only because it's you. I cherish you and your company deeply."

𝐀𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐮𝐬

⏔⏔⏔⏔༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⏔⏔⏔⏔

"Darling? Did something happen?"

Ever dramatic, Asmodeus' first course of action is to rush right to you and lovingly pester you.

"Did you sleep enough?" "Did you get a nightmare?! Those are the worst! There there, Asmo's here!" "Your complexion looks great! Did the products I give you yesterday work their magic? ♡"

You feel his soft finger tips trace all over your skin, checking up on you.

"Asmo, don't worry, I'm fine."

You reassure the demon who still had one of his many sleeping masks on when you summoned him. "But…why did you suddenly summon me, hm? Did you miss me? ♡" Asmodeus asked you, pouting while resting a hand on his cheek. "Why would I even ask that, of course you do!"

The Avatar of Lust giggles happily as you nod at his words, affirming the mutual affection. "I do miss you, Asmo. I like your company." 

Deep in Asmodeus' heart, he felt a part of it throb with longing. Finally, someone who didn't just see him as an object for pleasure. He tries to play this moment of vulnerability off as nothing, but it does not go unnoticed by you.

"Asmo, I know you're hiding something…" Your words seep into his veins as he feels fear. A fear that you might leave him if he lied, leading him to follow his heart as he clasped his hands around yours.

"MC, darling…I treasure you too much! ♡ I can't bear it, I love you more than I love myself, please…don't leave me."

𝐁𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐳𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐛

⏔⏔⏔⏔༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⏔⏔⏔⏔

"MC? Are you in trouble?"

Incredibly worried. He always fears the worst whenever you summon him, even if it's completely for fun. After all, he is the 'protector' of the family. 

First thing Beelzebub does is rush to you, checking you for injuries with a steady hand, even if you were just in your room.

After deeming you uninjured and safe, he takes his place next to your legs and rests his head on your lap.

"MC…did you need anything?"

Beelzebub's stable voice cuts through the noise of his buzzing fly wings as he tried to understand your situation. Why did you call for him out of nowhere? Sure, you did do this often, but what if he doesn't make it the one time you need him-

"Not really, I just wanted your company. You don't have to worry too hard, Beel."

Hearing this, Beelzebub's racing heart settles as he felt your hands trail through his messy hair. Unconsciously, Beelzebub slips out of his demon form and nuzzles into your lap, pressing his cheek closer to feel your warmth.

"You are my family and I care for you dearly, I hope you know that." Without much thinking, the words slip from his lips. What followed was a chuckle from you, the sound further easing Beelzebub's endless doubt about his ability as a protector and subsiding his harrowing gluttony.

"I know and love that about you, Beel." 

"…I love you too, MC. Don't forget me."

𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐫

⏔⏔⏔⏔༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⏔⏔⏔⏔

"MC…what is it now?"

Exhausted like usual. Belphegor drags his feet across your floor and plops himself right on your lap like he belongs there.

Takes your boredom as an invitation to doze off on your nap. Great.

"Well…you aren't being strung around by lower demons, so…be my pillow now."

"Belphie, you do know I can tell you're still awake."

The now busted Avatar of Sloth sleepily yawns as he rolls his body to make himself face directly up at you. "That was supposed to be foolproof…" Belphegor rubs his eyes as his tail brushes your cheek, the softness felt strangely comforting.

"Anyway…why'd you even summon me?" he mumbles, his voice quietened after he felt your hands scratching at his scalp. "I like your company and because I could." "Are you having a power trip, MC?" "Not yet."

Belphegor huffs at your answer. As much as he loved you, he would prefer not being constantly summoned and drained of his already lacking energy. But as long as you were happy with your little whims, it didn'tmatter.

A small smile spread across his face as he mumbles something under his breath. "Belphie, say that again?"

"Whatever keeps you happy…I'll bear it for you because I love you, MC."

Bonus!

"MC…"

"W-wha?! MC?!"

"I almost got a UR…M-MC?!"

"MC?"

"MC! ♡

"M…MC?"

"….M…C…"

Confused, all the brothers looked around, then at each other, then at you. Just how bored were you to summon all of them? "What, is it wrong to miss all of you?" you played the innocent card, even adding a few false sniffles to garner enough 'sympathy' for your distressing boredom. 

"On Lord Diavolo's Devildom, MC, what has you so bored, may I ask?" Lucifer was the first to break the silence. You, of course, shrugged again and repeated that you didn't know why. Everything took a turn once Mammon swooped right next to you on your right, arms eagerly wrapped around your waist.

"Haha! I got ya first!" Mammon was ecstatic but his brothers? Not so much. For some, not at all.

Leading to Mammon and Leviathan to start bickering with each other as they fought for the place at your side.

"For MC's sake, maybe you both shouldn't make a mess in here?" Satan chides as he shook his head disapprovingly and calmly took a seat on your left side that was empty. 

"I'll take the space near MC's legs!"

Asmodeus chirped as he skipped forward to you, kneeling down and resting his cheek against your right knee, below where the Avatar of Greed and the Avatar of Envy were fighting.

Beelzebub was quiet as he carried a half-asleep Belphegor in one arm and walked closer to you. You suddenly felt your body get lifted by Beelzebub's free hand as he sat you down comfortably on his lap and gently placed the snoozing Avatar of Sloth on your lap and mumbled something along the lines of "take care of him" before resting his head on your left shoulder.

The quarreling side of Mammon and Leviathan never quietened while Lucifer silently made his way to your left side, where Satan sat comfortably, eyes already focused on a book.

"If you even think about taking my place, I'll tear down this damn house." Satan huffs out without even looking up at Lucifer. The Avatar of Pride chokes out a laugh. 

"You need not worry about that."

Was all he said before kneeling next to your left leg, pressing his own cheek against your thigh. 

Mammon and Leviathan's fight came to a close out of pure surprise when they saw this. "W-what has gotten into that guy?!" "Who knows even…maybe he finally lost it!" 

Asmodeus laughs as he traces his signature all over your leg, "It's probably thanks to MC! ♡" "I don't doubt that," Satan adds on quietly while Beelzebub keeps silent, enjoying the moment with one hand on your waist and another over Belphegor's eyes.

"Just keep quiet." Lucifer's voice cuts through to Mammon and Leviathan, who were making theories about Lucifer's sudden vulnerability. A stuttered "F-fine.." came from their mouths as they both eventually shifted into comfortable positions near you. 

Mammon slotted himself on your right shoulder and did his own fair share of getting comfortable, occasionally leaving pecks on your cheek.

For Leviathan, he had to bear the weight of Belphegor's torso resting on him. He hugged your right arm and nuzzled against your skin for comfort. When he got brave, he left small pecks on your hand.

Lucifer, who had found his place comfortably on the floor near your left leg kept a steady hand on your ankle and his cheek pressed up against your thigh, where he left kisses on.

Satan enjoyed your presence more than his book, just the thought of you being next to him distracted his mind from reading as he couldn't hold himself back from sneaking cheek kisses after every paragraph.

Asmodeus was having the time of his life next to your right leg. He was practicing massage techniques he saw on Devilgram and giving kisses to every inch of your leg.

Beelzebub was quiet while he had you on his lap. He gently pat your head and always checked in with you. His warmth brought you comfort even while his brothers were crawling all over you.

Lastly, Belphegor comfortably laid his head on your lap, occasionally nuzzling his face into you and pawing at your waist while he slept.

You've never felt happier. Being surrounded by the demons you love dearly, the same demons who love you as well. They fact they were completely willing to listen to your whims, regardless of how ridiculous they were, warmed your heart.

“i know, kier, it’s okay.” you pat his cheek and start the shuffle-walk towards a surface he can rest on.

you barely make it a few steps before the weight is lifted off your shoulders and kieran is hoisted up and over sylus’s shoulder.

“sy—“

he grunts, lumbering into the living room and tossing kieran on a couch haphazardly. kieran groans but slumps like dirty laundry over the arm rest.

then sylus returns, a willow hovering over you with limp limbs and a head hung low. you reach up to touch his face, feverish against your palm, and frown. “you didn’t puke too, did yo—!”

his shoulder muffles the rest of what you have to say, smelling fruity and tangy from his choice of alcohol, as he presses his forehead to your neck. “just buzzed.”

his arms circle your frame, larger now with the little heartbeats growing stronger in you, and you’re enveloped in his warmth. slightly off, but just as meaningful.

“papa’s just buzzed.” he whispers to your ear, and it tickles.

“looks like papa doesn’t know how to hold his alcohol.” you tease. you should have warned the twins that sylus is a poor drinking buddy when it comes to the harder fun drinks the youths tend to order.

but you couldn’t crush their drinking with dad dreams, especially now— in this time of sylus’s life—he takes pride in the title more than ever.

sylus was reluctant, not because he didn’t want to indulge, but you’ve just entered your second trimester and he’s been loathe to leave you since… well, since the announcement.

you teased him about being clingy, he whined in the privacy of your bedroom to your baby bump. tattling to your child how mama is keeping him and them apart.

but eventually, he caved and brought the unmasked twins to one of his more private speakeasy’s. which then, maybe escalated into something more neon and bouncy, you aren’t sure. the state of kieran tells you so much and so little all at once.

“i can!” sylus protests.

“f—ck! i gotta fy-ook!” kieran hiccups behind you in distress.

when you start to rush to find something to catch it, sylus holds you in place. you hiss at him. “sy! it’s gonna get on the carpet.”

“luke will clean it.”

you push him away just enough for him to tube-man upright. but kieran has already found a vase and stuck his face into it, now hurling accordingly.

“see?” sylus slurs. “my kids are smart.”

kieran’s dry heaves echo into the hollow artifact and trigger your own reflexes. suddenly, your stomach isn’t feeling so well. you pry away the corded muscles around your waist and sprint to the bathroom.

outside, amidst the chaos, sylus is bellowing. “kieran, look what you’ve done!”

and kieran is wailing, “i’m sorry! i’m s—orry!”

“ohh, i’m going to kill you.” luke returns just in time to witness his twin’s mess into the vase.

sylus is there, standing like a stunned specter when you emerge from the bathroom door. he blinks a few times like he’s rebooting before he places both hands on your cheeks. “are you okay?”

“yes,” you say kindly, stroking his ring fingers with your thumbs. “don’t yell at them.”

“okay.” he nods, squeezing his eyes shut and swallowing. “sorry.”

he turns his head and yells into the hallway. “sorry!”

“s’okay, dad.” luke calls back, tired.

“we love you, dad!” kieran cries, voice crackly and strained.

sylus grins, goofy and loopy, chuckling once and slowly turning back to you. “i like being dad.”

you smile at him. it’s been such a time since you’ve seen him drunk, and the last time wasn’t nearly as tame as this. tonight he’s just… happy and cute.

“do you hear me?” he asks, pressing his nose to your bump as he falls to his knees. “i love being your dad.”

“he isn’t even out yet.” you laugh, nails against his scalp that make him melt further onto you.

“doesn’t matter.” he murmurs, peppering kisses over what he believes is the little’s foot. “i’m dad. m’papa.”

he clings to you and snuggles his face into your belly when you sit among your boys in the living room. there, you laugh as luke paints you a picture of their night. how the speakeasy didn’t escalate into a full party, rather a case of your husband’s singing bug.

“boss sang like, seven songs.” luke says, and you laugh when sylus groans into your side. sedated only by your gentle caresses through his hair. “then, a gooey duet with kieran.”

“on the wings of love is a classic and you’re a—hic— pleb for not knowing it.” kieran interjects.

luke ignores him, still upset about cleaning up after his brother twice. “they sang through, like, three bottles of brandy.”

“and sum’beer.” adds kieran. “soo fun.”

“not fun.” grumps about luke.

sylus pouts against you. “you guys said you like it when i’m fun.”

“bossss,” kieran sings. “you were awesome. i will never—hic— ever—hic— ever forget tonight.”

luke watches his brother warily, but then softens when he looks back at sylus. “he’s right. tonight was pretty sick, boss.”

“dad.” sylus corrects, his voice now a grumble teetering towards unconsciousness. “i’m a dad—a’papa.”

“a’papa!” kieran responds enthusiastically, as if sylus had just recited a psalm. he closes his eyes and murmurs it to himself happily over and over.

“i think a’papa needs to go to bed.” you say, brushing back sylus’s hair from his eyes to see them closed. his mouth now slightly ajar too as his breathing steadies.

kieran’s echos fade too shortly after, and soon turn to soft snores.

only you and luke are left awake to witness the crackle of the dying fire in its hearth.

quietly, you ask. “why didn’t you drink?”

luke clicked his tongue and took a while. “i did.”

“but?”

he twists to retrieve a folded piece of parchment from his pocket. its crinkles sounding solemn as it is placed gently into your hands.

you give him a curious look as he sits back and waves for you to open it.

in big, bold, elegant font, it reads:

CERTIFICATE OF LIVE BIRTH

秦薛明 — Lucas Qin

luke turns shy when you look back at him. suddenly, his fingernails have turned interesting that it needs all of his attention.

“i hope you don’t mind.” is the first thing he utters and you are appalled at his words. “or he discussed it with you. we don’t expect you to think of us as yours, but we—we’d love to be part of the fa…”

his voice trails away when you plop yourself beside him and wrap him in a tender embrace. “of course you’re mine.”

he sniffles for the first time since you’ve known him. you don’t dare to look. but he leans his head towards you and swallows. “i didn’t want to forget.

“i didn’t want to wake up and maybe think… it was all a dream.”

all their lives— such hard and painful ones— they never had more than the other. never been wanted. never belonged.

at the gift presented to them, once pristine in the folders sylus had meticulously placed the parchment in, luke and kieran felt as if they had been killed, burned and reborn anew.

unmasked. with a face. with a name.

after years of always pausing by the door and waiting by the barrier, never did they think that they would be invited in.

and that will always be there to haunt them, the idea of being impostors in places they aren’t supposed to be in. where they think they fit, but their reality is bathed in delusion they would blame on their nonexistent childhood.

but now written, they will have something to tell them it’s all true.

“happy birthday.” you kiss his temple. he freezes at the affection, at the difference it makes coming from someone other than his brother. from another member of the family.

and as if you knew what he needed to hear, you swear.

you swear as if it is known, written in the stars eons ago. indisputable by fate or anything brutal that makes its demands. a truth you have lived and remembered and etched into your bones. you swear,

“you’ve always been our sons.”

a kick against his elbow that rests just by your belly is all is needed for him to believe it.

thank you for reading! ❀(*´◡`*)❀

As soon as you get home, you flop onto your couch. Muscle memory moves your fingers to open your texts but there are none tonight.. Xavier's texts have lessened the last few days, and you couldn’t decide if it made you relieved or anxious. Closing your messenger, you open your search engine and begin to doomscroll about pregnancy. The ‘’dos and don’ts’, all the things to watch out for, symptoms, infant necessities, etc. It felt endless and you wanted to cry. It wasn’t like you didn’t want kids but.. You always expected to be prepared. Now it feels like a countdown has started and you are a eon behind. 

Suddenly a soft knock pulls you out of your spiral. Your stomach drops, immediately knowing who was at the door. You sit up, trying to quickly decide what to say this time when a familiar voice rings out from behind the shut door. “I’m sorry for bugging you again… but can we please talk for a bit?” 

His voice sounds serious and almost defeated. Guilt takes over, you always complain about him keeping secrets and not communicating but look at you the moment something big happens. What a hypocrite. You chastise yourself. Taking a deep breath and getting up to head towards the door. Towards Xavier. 

You brace yourself as you open the door, you weren’t going to send him away this time. As soon as the door opened, you were met with an expression just as miserable and anxious as your own, poorly masked under a small smile. Xavier opens his mouth to say something but before he could, tears started trickling over your lashes. You felt an overflow of emotions.

You missed this man so much. 

Bringing your hands up to your face, sobs start catching in your throat as you try to speak, “I-I am” taking a large gasp before the last word “sorry..” Trying to apologize for avoiding him for the last week. 

A bewildered and concerned Xavier immediately ushers you fully inside, a hand rubbing your back while the other tries to lift your head. His voice rushed, “No, no, no. I am sorry. Whatever it is, it’s my fault.” He pulls you fully into his chest, just trying to comfort you through this moment without questioning. 

You can feel his rapid heartbeat against your ear. Surely he is beyond confusion now. What if he thinks you're crazy? You’ve never cried like this. Was it hormones or just relief? As you focus on his heart beat, your tears lessen and you notice his heartbeat slowing.

Finally pulling away, you murmur an apology. Not sure what to do now, you stare at the ground searching for a solution somewhere in your frazzled brain. 

Xavier clears his throat above you, attracting your attention. When you meet his gaze, he gives you a soft, comforting smile, “Why don’t we just sit down for now? Does your throat hurt? I can make you tea.” You follow him to the couch and sit but shake your head at the offer of anything else. 

He begins to softly and rhythmically stroke his hand up and down your arm and side. His other holds yours, his thumb tracing circles on the back of yours. As you stared at your conjoined hands, you noticed Xavier was bouncing his leg, something he only did when impatient or anxious. While he was taking every step to soothe you, he was sitting there quietly drowning. 

Lifting your gaze, you lock eyes with him and try to give him a reassuring smile. He returns it, though the worry swimming throughout his expression doesn’t change. 

“Xavier, I am pregnant.”

The worry quickly dissipated into a dazed shock. A few moments passed and he shifted his focus to the wall behind you. You sit quietly and let him take a bit to process this. Afterall, it's been a week since you found out and you were still reeling, giving him a few minutes was the least you could do. That said, you couldn’t help but watch his expressions, looking for signs of excitement, displeasure, anything that gave a signal to his real feelings. 

Not even 10 seconds later, his head snaps back to you as he leans forward, taking both your hands into his. “Are you okay? Do you need anything? Please tell me. I’ll do it right now.”

“I am fine right now. I’d.. just like to know how you are feeling. It's not like this was planned. We have never even discussed whether we wanted kids..” He leans back a bit and you carefully try to gauge his expression as he contemplates his response. 

“Well… I am shocked. However..” He sheepishly scratches the back of his neck, looking away as he finishes his thought, “it's not as though I was good about using protection, so it's entirely my fault.”

“It’s our fault. I didn’t use any either.” You correct.

He simply shakes his head in disagreement and continues, “I obviously knew this was a possibility but it felt so abstract after this long. I didn’t take it as seriously as I should have. Saying this all out loud, I’m not sure I even have the right to be shocked..”

He pauses his thought to carefully wrap his arm around your waist and pull you onto his lap, nuzzling your cheek before setting his chin on your head as he resumes, “I never dared to imagine a future like this with you. Yet, now that it's right in front of me,” you hear his voice start to crack. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t happy… Probably way happier than I should be, when I consider how disheveled you looked earlier. I’m sorry..”

Hearing his words, it felt like all your anxieties disappeared in an instant. You had been trying to not let yourself imagine it either, before speaking with him. Now those possibilities are quickly taking over your every thought… And it was beautiful. Tears began to well up again, this time out of joy. You wish you had just told him immediately. That you had told him excitedly.

Can we have a redo?

Suddenly you shoot up onto your feet, Xavier watching you in confusion. You plop back down on his lap, this time straddling him, grabbing his right hand and placing it on your stomach before pressing your forehead to his. “Xavi! We are having a baby!” You announce again, enthusiastically this time, through your tears.

Xaviers’ eyes glisten as he leans up and kisses you gently. Nuzzling your noses together as he responds cheerfully, “Yes! Yes, we are. Our baby.”

You giggle as he leans in to kiss you again, this time it lingers on. It felt like you could taste the joy. He finally pulls back with a silly smile on his face, “Hey if you think about it this way, since we didn’t use protection, we were planning for a baby from the start.” He declares confidently.

You laugh at his goofy logic. Smooshing his face between your hands you respond a bit resentfully, “I don’t think that's how that works, because I certainly don’t feel prepared.” You pause for a moment in consideration, “but how about this? We let it happen naturally.” You finish with a big grin. 

“We let it happen naturally.” He repeats with angelic smile, running his hands up and down your back, pulling up more of your shirt as he does. He moves his face closer to yours again and you can already spot the shift in his mood. This man is going to test ‘nature’ to the fullest. 

Rafayel 

Opening the package, you decide it's best to be safe than sorry. You were late, after all. In three minutes, you have your confirmation you aren’t pregnant, then you can go on with the rest of your day. You pull out the test, read the instructions, and follow along carefully. Now you just wait.

By the one minute mark, the control line was apparent. At least the test isn’t a dud, you thought to yourself. Glancing at where the other line should be, you almost think you see the ghost of one but convince yourself it's your eyes playing tricks. You go back to waiting.

By two minutes, the second blue line has become apparent. Panic is setting in. You aren’t sure why you are still waiting, like the line will magically disappear at the three minute mark but you are still sitting there staring. 

At three minutes reality hits. It's positive. You are trying to take deep breaths. This isn’t the end of the world. You can handle it. Just breathe. Maybe it was a dud afterall! Maybe you should take another test!

Another test later you are sitting on your toilet in defeat. 

That damn fish. He was so needy and sweet during low tide. That angelic, defenseless face could’ve convinced you of anything he wanted. It's no surprise you wound up in his bed. The more you look back at that night, you feel a flush creeping up on your face. You try to shake it off. 

Blame him, not me. You lament. It was siren trickery, damn it!

Walking out of your bathroom, you couldn’t help but glaring at the painting of his on the wall. How dare he put you in this situation. You bet he’s just painting away, without a care in the world right now. You walk up to the painting and grab it off your wall. Carefully setting it on the ground backwards so you don’t have to look at it.

You continue on into the living room, considering making a doctor's appointment to figure out what to do next, only to come face to face with several more of his pieces hanging on your wall. At the same time you hear a sharp ding from your phone. You felt like your head was going to explode. Pulling out your phone you read the message. 

“On your way over yet, Ms. Bodyguard?”

Picking up the nearest pillow, you let out a loud scream before tossing it back on the couch. It felt like you had no time to think or process this without him popping up somewhere. Why can’t he disappear for a bit while you figure out what to do! Suddenly your mind goes quiet.

You know what, this is his fault so why do I have to deal with it while he has a carefree day? 

Not even bothering to respond to him, you grab your purse and head out. Flipping off one of his paintings as you leave.

As you arrive at his house, the only thing keeping you moving is anger and bravado. However, half of that dissipates at the sight of Rafayel's excited face when you enter. “You didn’t respond so I thought you weren’t coming!” He exclaimed, jumping up from his chair and bouncing over to you. “You're looking cute, cutie.” he whispers, planting an affectionate kiss on your cheek. 

He pulls back and cocks his head to the side at your lack of response. “You alright, cutie?”

You let out an exaggerated sigh and push past him to take a seat on the couch. “I was meant to be mad at you.” You sigh again, realizing your bravado is also gone. Glancing up at the man standing before you.

That face is truly treacherous. I was doomed from the start.

As yet another sigh escapes your lips, Rafayel takes a seat next to you. He rests his elbow on the back of the couch, turning his body towards you. While his excitement is gone, he doesn’t seem particularly dour. A small smile is still trying to tug at his lips but he has enough brains to fight it. You can hear his foot tapping as he waits for you to say something. Time passes in silence. Unsurprisingly, he breaks first, “Are you going to tell me why you are supposed to be mad at me?... Why you keep sighing would be nice to know too.” 

You side-eye him, still annoyed even if your anger has been dispelled. Finally you open your mouth, “If I tell you, what will you do about it?”

“Easy! Whatever it is that made you mad, I’m sure I can fix it.” A confident smirk taking over his face. That annoyance begins to morph back into anger. For some reason you felt the need to challenge him. 

Taking a deep breath, you respond, “Fine.” This is your problem now. “I’m pregnant.” You say neutrally. Without sparing him another glance you stand up and start to head towards the door. “Let me know when you fix it.” 

You only make it a few steps before a strong grip grabs hold of your wrist. You stop walking but don’t turn back. Waiting to see what he says or does. A sudden yank sends you tumbling back onto the couch and into his lap. “What the hell, Raf!” You snap. However, you stop talking when you look up at his shocked face. It's beet red. You can’t help but stare. It's cute. 

For some reason this made you feel better. You start to sit up, laughing quietly to yourself. You wrap your arms loosely around his neck and as you continue, "What's the matter, Raf? I thought you said you’d be able to fix anything for me?”

“What…? When? How…?” He starts stuttering out questions, you're not sure his brain is working yet. 

“How? Surely you don’t need me to explain that part, Rafayel.” You tease. Suddenly you see the lights turn on behind his eyes and a scowl appears on his face. 

“Don’t make fun of me.” He snaps, “ How long have you known?” Ah. He’s working again. You sigh, mourning the loss of your brainless boytoy but understanding you two do need to have a serious conversation. 

“I found out today. Right before coming.” You respond evenly. 

“I see…” He sits back in thought. After a few moments his brow furrows and he sits up straight. “And what exactly about that made you mad, huh?” The offense was clear as day in his tone and in his face. However, a few seconds later, his face shifted again. This time more subdued and remorseful. “I’m sorry. You just found out you were pregnant. That has to be shocking. I shouldn’t have snapped about how you feel about it. Forgive me…”

Looking at his beautiful, guilt-ridden face, you couldn’t help but feel vindicated about your anger. “This.” You grab his face with one hand while pointing at it with the other. “This is why I was angry. You know I’m weak to it and you use it against me. Just like during the low tide! Just like now! If our child looks like you, I’m finished.” 

You let go and scoot off of his lap to the spot beside him, leaning back with your arm over your eyes. Just imagining what a push over you’d end up being with a mini Rafayel running around.

“You know, cutie…” You feel him shifting closer before you feel his hand brushing across your abdomen until it settles on your lower stomach. “Don’t take this the wrong way but you are really lucky you met me and not some honeypot. You’d be on the streets in a week with how blinded you get by a cute face.”

You lower your arm to scowl at him only to see his face is mere inches away and he’s smiling so brightly. You let out a playful huff, letting a smile take over as you turn your body towards him and shuffle closer. Letting your head rest on the back of the couch next to his, you whisper, “I suppose it's a bit late to ask if you want children.”

“Nope. Never wanted them. Let's have at least ten, okay?” He immediately responds with a grin. He leans in, capturing your lips in a playful kiss before deepening it. The next thing you knew, your body was being pushed until you were trapped under him on the couch.

Ripping your lips away for air, you gasp out, “Calm down, we can’t make ten right now!” 

A sharp nip to your neck makes you jerk as Rafayel sits up and wipes his mouth with a mischievous smirk, “how would you know? I’m a lumarian. Who knows what I can make happen?” 

Caleb

Days have passed and you still couldn’t stop staring at them. All three tests are still sitting on your bathroom counter, confirming your reality every time you walk in. You swear those two blue lines were mocking you. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to throw the tests away…

How? Caleb was always so careful about using protection. Could one have been faulty? 

Thank god Caleb is away on a mission. I’m sure I can figure out what to do before he gets back.

Will he be mad when I tell him? 

Looking back, he always changed the subject when you brought up kids and looked uncomfortable. Why did you not pick up on it then..? They were just lighthearted conversations then, most happened before you even started dating, but their weight feels monumental now. 

Even as you worry how he’ll handle the news, you yearn to hear his voice. Your phone has been so quiet since he left. You wonder just what type of mission he is on… You hope he is okay. Your hand soothingly rubs your stomach, as though to comfort both of you. 

Deciding nothing will be solved tonight, you take a shower and head to bed. You’ll have more time to think about it tomorrow. As you fall asleep you scroll through articles on preparing to be a mother, bookmarking guides and resources along the way.

In the morning you wake up to the smell of breakfast being prepared. A warm, welcoming scent until you realize exactly what it means. 

Caleb is back. 

Adrenaline takes over as you leap out of bed and rush into the master bathroom. All three tests lay exactly where they were last night, but that didn’t guarantee he hadn’t seen them while you were asleep… Panic takes hold and you freeze, stuck staring yet again at those damn blue lines. Breath. Breath. Breath. Everything will be okay. It's Caleb. 

You decide after some thought, to slip the tests into an unused drawer and play it by ear. Glancing around, it looked as though nothing was used in the bathroom recently. Perhaps there is no reason to worry. You walk back out into the bedroom then to the living room. Your heart was still pounding not knowing whether he knew or not. 

You pause at the entrance of the kitchen, watching him cube some fruit as you lean against the archway. “Welcome back. I’ve missed your cooking.” 

“Oh? You just missed my cooking, Pip?” he responds playfully, putting down the knife and turning away from the counter towards you. 

“Well, that and a few other things.” You tease, finally walking into the kitchen straight into his embrace. “I missed you a little too.” you murmur into his chest

“Well, I missed you a lot.” He punctuates with a kiss on your forehead before pointing your attention to the counter and stove. “I am making waffles with fresh cream and fruit.”

“Yum! I am excited.” He releases you, turning away to grab something.

“Here. Your regular.” Handing you a mug filled with a creamy coffee that normally smelled mouth watering but today..

Immediately shoving back into his hand you quickly move past him to the sink to dry retch. Nothing came up, thank goodness. Why did coffee have to betray me, of all things? You knew you couldn’t drink it but this felt personal.

To your surprise, Caleb didn’t ask any questions. He simply rubbed your back gently before stepping away to retrieve a cup of water and handing it to you. Turning around and leaning on the counter as you drink, you murmur out a small “thank you”, followed by, “the coffee must not be sitting right with me today.”

“These kinds of things happen with pregnancy.” He answered coolly, taking a slow, purposeful sip out of the mug. His earlier smile was gone and your heart sinks in your chest.

“You saw the tests.” You quietly confirm, carefully watching his every movement. He motions for you to move away from the counter, so you do. Nervously returning to your place in the archway, far away from the scent of coffee as he pours the mug down the drain and cleans it before setting it on the drying rack. The smell begins to dissipate. 

“I assumed you wanted me to see them, considering you left three on the counter. Was that your preferred way of telling me?” You wince at how unreadable his face looks. It practically confirms your worst fears. You feel tears pricking at your eyes but you blink them away. 

“No. I didn’t want to tell you this way. I just…” You look around the room for a proper explanation, finding none. “I-I just couldn’t get rid of them.”

He nods silently, but his unreadable expression doesn’t change. He slowly moves towards you, gently taking your hand. “Lets sit down.” He guides you into the living room and you both sit down, you on the couch and him on the coffee table directly in front of you.

“I really didn’t mean to tell you that way..” you whisper, staring down at your knees. 

“I know. I understand.” He responds, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb, a bit of his comforting voice returning. This gives you some courage to start a real conversation. 

Straightening your back and lifting your head, you lock eyes with him, “Caleb, I’m pregnant.” You take a pause to let that sink it, “I know this must be shocking. You’ve always been so careful, but obviously an accident happened…” Caleb looks like he is about to interrupt but you hold your hand up to stop him. “And look, ever since I found out… I’ve been nervous about what's going to happen, how you’d respond, how things will change; but I’ve also felt this budding excitement growing. I keep imagining what it would be like to be a parent, what personality this child may have, will they look more like you or me? My mind has been whirling with a million possibilities. I think.. I want this baby, Caleb.”

You take a deep breath, feeling like you just word-vomited at him but hoping he understands your feelings. You watch an array of emotions cross his face, some indiscernible but others clear as day. Shock, fear, guilt and pain were all evident, but you swear as he bit his lip, trying to maintain his composure you saw a hidden yearning. You hoped he’d let you see it fully but you know he wouldn’t without a push.

Reaching forward you firmly grab his hand so he can’t escape, “Caleb, please. If you can’t tell me your real feelings now, when will you ever be able to?”

Suddenly, you are yanked forward into his arms by the hand you were holding. Still sitting on the couch, your torso meets his in the open space between your seats. You are entirely trapped, arms locked at your sides under his and legs wedged between his. “I’m sorry.” He rasps into your ear. “I really did try to be careful.”

You rest your chin on his shoulder. “I know, Caleb. I know.” 

“I can’t stand the idea of something happening to you...” He pauses, rubbing his face against your shoulder. Is he crying? His rough voice continues. “You have no idea how I feel. When I saw that test… I was so happy and I hated myself for it. How could I be happy about you risking your body?”

“Caleb.” You nudge his shoulder with your chin, a silent ask to be released that he slowly relents to. Shifting back, you reach out and cup his face. He looks defeated. Tears start welling up in your eyes with hope, “If you were happy, does that mean you want our baby?”

Caleb drops to his knees, wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing his head to your stomach. “Yes. I am sorry. But I really, really do.” The tears fully spill over your lashes as he looks up at you, picking up your hand and pressing it against his cheek. “I promise I will take care of you both. You can rely on-” You lean down and seal his lips shut with your own. 

He can coo his promises into your ear later, you already know he’s good for them. But right now, you just need to feel him.

Zayne

You only took the test because you were late. You had been feeling fine, no symptoms. Yet in the 2 days since it was confirmed, it felt like your entire body gave up on you. 

Sitting on the bathroom floor after another round of retching, you can’t help but resent all the women writing articles about how a-m-a-z-i-n-g pregnancy was for them. Also it's 7PM! How dare morning sickness be hitting right now! You felt entirely deceived, and drained. You’ve been trying your hardest to digest what is happening while also figuring out when to tell Zayne.

Sooner rather than later would be better. However, you couldn’t ignore the ball of anxiety in the pit of your stomach. You wonder how he’ll react. He’s never really talked about kids, but he’s pretty good with them at the hospital.. You’re sure he’d be a good father. Well, if he wants to be one..

You rest your head against the cool wall, trying to soothe the splitting headache coming on from your suffocating thoughts. You feel so tired now… Maybe you can just rest your eyes for a moment..

A gentle touch on your shoulder makes you jump up straight. Whipping your head towards the touch, you are suddenly face to face with Zayne. “You scared me!” you decry, collapsing back against the wall in relief. 

A warm hand brushes your forehead as Zayne’s voice washes over you. “Why are you asleep here? Are you sick? How long have you felt unwell?” Questions begin to pour out of his mouth as his hand expertly prods at your body, checking you over. 

You sigh, shaking your head, “I was just nauseous and must’ve started to doze. I didn’t even hear you open the door.. Anyways, don’t worry, I am fine now.” You press your hand on his chest, creating some distance so you can stand up.

Zayne immediately stops you, reaching out and lifting you into his arms, carrying you into the bedroom and carefully setting you on your bed. “If you feel nauseous, then everything is not fine. How long have the symptoms been occurring? It could be the flu or food poisoning.” 

“It's not.” You respond firmly. Relaxing back against the headboard and pillows as he continues to press his hand to face, stomach and chest. You open your mouth to explain you are actually pregnant but before you can, he responds. 

“You seem so certain. Are you the doctor now?” You hear a tinge of irritation painting his voice. Clearly he thinks you are being purposefully obtuse. 

You don’t know why that irritated you so much but it did. You couldn’t help but snap back, “Well, I certainly know more than the one in front of me right now. For your knowledge, I’m pregnant, Doctor.” 

His eyes widened with shock. You flinch, never meaning to tell him this way. This wasn’t meant to be a ‘gotcha’ moment. You weren’t even sure why you got so annoyed..

‘Can I blame hormones this early?’ you think to yourself.  

“You are pregnant.” He repeats to no one in particular. You nod none the less. Confirming your words again. 

“Yes, Zayne.” The irritation and fatigue has faded into anxiety as you watch him standing beside your bed in thought. What is he thinking? Absent-mindedly you bring one hand to your mouth to chew on your nail, while pressing your other hand to your stomach protectively. Surely he isn’t mad, right?

Finally his eyes return to your face, serious, “You could still be sick. How bad has the nausea been? It can be dangerous if you get sick this early in your pregnancy.” He’s immediately leaning over you again, this time pressing his forehead to yours, like it’ll better check your temperature. If anything, he feels warm. 

You couldn’t help the chuckle that escapes your lips even as he stands back up with a worried frown. Of course he’s still fretting. What else could you expect from this man? It's one of the many reasons why you love him. 

“It hasn’t been that bad, Zayne. It's just a struggle to adjust too. I don’t feel sick.” You give him a comforting smile before continuing, “however, you can do whatever check ups you think are appropriate.”

You tap the edge of the bed, hoping you two can have a more serious conversation now. 

He takes your hands into his own as he sits. “I just want to make sure you are okay and healthy.” You nod in agreement. “How long have you known?”

“Less than a week. I took a home test, and when it was positive, I reached out to Dr. Grayson asking if he could double check for me.” ‘Secretly’, you add silently. However, you are sure he’s already made that assumption. 

“You could have asked me. I am your doctor..” He pauses, brushing your hair behind your ear. “I am also your partner.”

“I was embarrassed. It’s not like this was planned…” you trail off, looking away. 

After a pregnant pause, you hear a sigh, “I suppose it is the logical course of action. We haven’t had the appropriate conversations to situate ourselves for this.” You feel his fingers tapping on your hands, drawing your eyes back to his face. “It is a bit late but shall we have those conversations now?”

You nod, the serene smile on his face giving you more than enough courage to start. “Zayne, do you want children?”

A light chuckle dances in the air as though I asked him something silly. Your hand is pulled up to his lips and peppers kisses on your palm. “Shall I tell you how many times I’ve imagined them? Our children.”

‘Our children.’ Your stomach flipped at those words. “So you are okay with this being so unexpected…?” You pull one of his hands and place it on your stomach. You know how Zayne prefers to plan ahead and this is beyond a small deviation in life. However, if he wants kids… Your mind wanders down that path, imagining him holding a child in his lap. 

He cocks his head at your words before leaning in, brushing his nose against yours. “Unexpected does not mean unwelcomed. Not everything in the world needs to be planned. You have taught me some of the best things aren’t.” 

He pulls your arms up, encouraging you to wrap them around his neck as he begins to litter kisses across your face. “I have yet to hear your opinions, my love. Can I assume from your smile that we are in agreement?” He pauses, pulling back just enough to watch and listen to you respond. You couldn’t help the blush crossing your cheeks as you nod. “Can I get a verbal confirmation?” He teased.

“Yes, Zayne. I really want this baby. I want our baby.” At that, you see his ears turning pink before he leans back in, sealing your lips with his, almost like a promise. Butterflies swarming your stomach as you imagine a family with this man. However, those thoughts are cut short as he deepens the kiss, shifting you so back lands softly against the mattress. 

As  his lips wander to the exposed section of your chest, you breathlessly ask, “Since my Doctor is here, I want to ask… Is it safe to have sex while pregnant?” A smile spreads across your face when you hear the amused huff against your chest.

He slowly raises his head, speaking as he slowly kisses up your neck, His voice far too raspy to be professional at this point.

“While there is no simple yes or no and nuance is always required,” his voice pauses as he reaches your lips, staring down at you for a moment in wonder, “Yes, yes it is.” With that, he swallows your lips once again. 

Sylus 

Walking into the restaurant, you already knew Sylus was onto you. You’ve been too on edge, and frankly, too nice, since he picked you up. Who would’ve thought being kind to your lover could be a give away, but whatever. At least he hasn’t called you out yet, but you’ve seen the raised eyebrows out of the corner of your eye and heard the silent chuckles under his breath. He’s playing along for now, but it’s coming soon.

Still, he continues as though everything is normal. You truly wish you could do the same. Pregnant. The word danced at the tip of your tongue. A word you didn’t expect to say for years, maybe ever, at least in relation to yourself. You truly didn’t believe the test when you took it. You immediately made a doctor's appointment thinking it was a mistake. Hearing congratulations from the medical staff felt like salt on a wound. Shouldn’t they be trained to not assume all pregnancies are wanted? You mentally chastise the staff before pausing…

You haven’t really thought about how you feel about this pregnancy yet. It's all so sudden, it doesn’t feel real. Yet the longer you are in Sylus’ presence, you realize how nervous you are feeling about whether he will want this baby or not. What do you do if he doesn’t? What do you do if he does? 

“We’ll try this bottle.” Sylus’ voice cuts through your thoughts as he begins to order a bottle of wine. 

“I think I’ll just have water tonight, Sylus.” You say, picking up the water already poured for each of you and sipping it.

Sylus pauses for a moment, clearly noting yet another odd occurrence, before continuing with the order, “one glass of the pinot noir then” The waiter immediately walks away and Sylus turns his attention fully back to you. His normal smile falling on his face, he motions towards the water then to you. “It seems you have something on your mind. I have an excellent ear.” he says with a smile.

“I… have something to talk to you about. However, I’d like to enjoy dinner, can we do it later?” You propose. Taking another anxious sip of water. You need just a bit more time.

“I would also like to enjoy our dinner. So I suggest we do it now.” He counters. A fake playfulness masking his demand. “We haven’t even ordered yet so we have plenty of time, plus…” He pauses looking at you up and down, “watching you sit there ruminating will ruin my appetite, sweetie.”

“Sylus, I don’t want to do this right now.” you respond, voice strained. Maybe you should’ve given an excuse instead. 

“If this is serious, we can leave now and have this discussion elsewhere.” His voice has also lost any semblance of lightness. 

Staring down the task ahead of you, an anxiety you didn’t realize the depths of takes hold. You feel your heart rate accelerating and your eyesight is quickly shrinking. You are breathing yet, it suddenly feels like there is no air. You jump to your feet, mumbling “E-excuse me.” and you rush to the bathroom. If Sylus said anything else to you, you didn’t hear it over the ringing in your ears. 

Locking the door behind you, you couldn’t help but be grateful it was a single unit bathroom. You lean against the door, catching your breath while rubbing your finger in circles on your lower stomach. Every chaotic thought over the last few days resurfaced at once but one kept overwhelming the rest, increasing your panic with second. What if he doesn’t want this baby?

The realization hit you like a brick to the head and all you could do was squat down and try and fail to fight back tears. You want this baby. You want him to want this baby. You are terrified he won’t. God please, want this too. 

Suddenly you feel a whoosh of air behind you as the door supporting you disappears, sending you tumbling back against something else. You look up surprised and confused to see Sylus standing there. Jaw tight and brow furrowed, like he is angry. You realize how pathetic you must look, laying on the ground in the hall of a restaurant with tears running down your face. You quickly scramble to get to your feet when Sylus snaps you up off the ground and walks out of the restaurant without a word. You bury your head into his neck in embarrassment hoping it will all be over soon. 

A valet already had the car waiting out front so he was able to quickly open the car door and gently set you inside, strapping you in, before settling himself into the driver's seat. As he drives away you lean your head back, mortified by how tonight went. “I am so embarrassed.” you lament out loud. 

Sylus seems to take this as a dig at his actions, sarcastically responding, “Well next time you run off and lock yourself in the bathroom, respond to the person who has been knocking for 5 minutes. Then you won’t have to be embarrassed when they unlock the door and carry you out.” He was speeding, which was normal but he felt more reckless tonight. 

“I know. You didn’t embarrass me, I embarrassed me. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I didn’t answer you. It sounds stupid but I didn’t hear you.” You apologize, feeling defeated. What a crappy night. You decide to just rest your head against the window quietly for the rest of the drive. 

I’m definitely not telling him tonight. You think to yourself. Not with how things have already gone. 

As you gaze out the window you feel a warm hand gently grab your thigh, massaging it assuringly. “I wasn’t looking for an apology and you certainly did nothing to owe one.” His warm voice breaks the silence. And then, after a long pause, he decides to confront the real issue. “Is what you have to talk about that frightening?”

“I didn’t think so but I realized tonight it’s terrifying.” You assert calmly, still looking out the window. The warmth in his voice was comforting, certainly lifting your mood, but you still couldn’t find it in yourself right now. You were still depleted. 

“Funny how shooting me didn’t enact this level of terror.” He playfully drawls.

“It was different back then. I didn’t li-” Feeling the need to defend yourself, you only pause after starting, realizing you walked into his trap. You hear a chuckle from the driver's side while you fight off a smile yourself. 

“You didn’t like me?” He repeats and completes. “Does that insinuate that now you do? I supposed that eliminates a few terrifying conversation topics. We’re getting somewhere.” He teases. Occupied by the conversation, you belatedly realized the car was coming to a stop. When did he slow down? Where are we? You had been looking out the window but you weren’t absorbing your surroundings. Looking again, you realize you are parked at a vista overlook outside the city.

A gentle squeeze on your thigh gets you to finally turn towards Sylus. He’s leaning on the steering wheel, turning his body towards you. His hand on your thigh moves up to brush your hair out of your face. He's searching your eyes to see if he should back off or keep pushing. 

Turning your head, you press a light kiss into the palm of his hand before leaning forward and doing the same on his lips. It doesn’t take long before it deepens, and you feel Sylus’s seat adjust back while his arm pulls you from your seat into his lap. You pull back from the kiss to speak, “Hey Sylus..” but he quickly follows, cutting you off with a short kiss before responding.

“Hm… Yes, Kitten?” He murmurs against your skin as he begins to kiss down your chin towards your neck. 

Leaning your head back to give him more access, you mumble out the remainder of your sentence, “I’m pregnant.”

As to be expected, his kisses halted and his wandering hands freeze on your body. After a few seconds, he leans back in his seat to get a better look at you. “Will you repeat that again, sweetie?”

“I’m pregnant, Sylus.”

He chuckles, “Just making sure I heard you correctly.” One of his hands begins to move again, roaming from your back to your lower stomach. He stares at his hand and your stomach for quite some time before speaking. “I understand your terror now. Having a child is a formidable task, it is not something to be taken lightly.”

You place your hand over his. “Having the child isn’t what has been scaring me. Your reaction, whether you… want this child… That is what terrifies me.” 

His hand escapes yours and raises up to pinch your chin and direct you towards his sharp gaze. “I have never done something I was not prepared to take responsibility for. Never. That does not change today.” 

He releases your chin before pulling you closer to resume kissing your neck. “Besides, as I said, children are challenging. When have you and I…” He pauses to leave a few more lingering kisses, “ever shied away from a challenge?” You hear excitement in his voice as you let your mind melt into his embrace. 

______________________________________________________________

This could not stand, you decided the moment you stepped through the door this afternoon. And you would show him that you weren’t happy at the slightest.

That night, Caleb went home slightly earlier than usual.

He was exhausted—his shoulders heavy, mind still buzzing—but there was a quiet sort of relief in knowing you would be waiting for him like always. At the table, perhaps half-pouting, half-smiling, insisting he eat before anything else.

But when he stepped inside, the house was… quiet.

The dining table was set, just as it always was—but you weren’t there. At least there was a neatly prepared meal left for him, covered and still warm. He was starving, so he sat down first, loosening his collar as he ate what you had prepared.

It was good, as always. Your home-cooked meals were comforting and tasted like happier days in your childhood.

When he finished, he washed his hands and made his way toward your shared bedroom, pushing the door open quietly.

There you are. Curled up on the bed, back propped against the headboard, eyes glued to your tablet. The dramatic soundtrack of some soap opera filled the room, exaggerated voices rising and falling—but you didn’t so much as glance his way.

Caleb leaned against the doorframe, watching you for a moment.

“Hey,” he called out with a broad smile. “I’m home.”

Strange, usually you would come up to him and smother him with kisses. But now you merely swiped your tablet’s screen to move to the next episode.

“Huh... You’re not even going to look at me?”

Caleb blinked, and wracked his mind as to guess why. Then he remembered his own words and many nights he had turned you away. He huffed a quiet laugh under his breath.

“Wow. That bad, huh?”

Still, you remained stubbornly silent, eyes fixed on the screen as if he was nonexistent at all.

Caleb tilted his head, studying you—and then, as if he had decided on the best course of action, he jumped onto the bed without ceremony, still fully dressed in his uniform.

When the mattress dipped, you finally turned to him, glaring daggers. “Get off!”

He blinked, still with a smile, feigning innocence. “What?”

“You’re dirty and stinky! Go take a bath first before you go near me.”

At last, you responded him. His smile only widened, hands lifting in surrender as he tilted his head, slipping off the bed without protest.

“Yes, ma’am.”

. . .

When he returned, his hair was damp— and he didn’t bother to put a shirt before walking back in.

Clad only in his boxer, he climbed back onto the bed and reached for you, pulling you into a warm, easy embrace. You stiffened at once, all too aware of the warmth of his toned body and the lingering scent of the bath soap you both used.

Caleb rested his chin against your shoulder, nuzzling you. “Still mad?”

Still silence. You squirmed in his hold though.

He nudged you slightly. “Come on, hm? Can’t I get my welcome home kiss, at least? Please?”

You finally spoke, voice flat and unimpressed. “I don’t recognize you, stranger.”

“What stranger? I’m your brother-husband.”

You sniffed in mock disgust, still refusing to look at him, eyes glued to your tablet as you muttered dramatically, half-reciting, half-accusing:

“He is busy, he is working— he doesn’t have time for me—”

Somehow the words sounded familiar in his head.

“He used to be literally obsessed with me… and now I’m suddenly the least sought after girl in the land—”

Caleb stilled for a second, and then burst out laughing.

“Seriously?” he said, incredulous, pulling back just enough to look at you. “Stop reciting that song. I’ve heard it in the radio far too often already.”

You only pouted harder, crossing your arms. “That’s because it fits,” you shot back.

He grinned, entertained despite himself, eyes softening as he watched you sulk.

“Does it now?” he pressed a kiss on your neck, tightening his hold on you. “I’m home now, you can have me all to yourself… and I want you all to myself too, so in what way it fits?”

“Everything,” you retorted, trying to keep your calm, despite how his hands were starting to wander at your body.

Caleb hummed against your neck as his treacherous hands slipped inside your nightwear. His cool fingers then cupped your left breast, and started playing with it, brushing and turning it— he could feel the tip gradually hardening.

“Oh!” you held back a gasp when he pinched your sensitive nipple, bothered and slightly hot, twisting from him with a glare. “You!”

“Okay, okay!” he burst into snickers again and patted your head. “Alright, I get it. You’re not happy… but at least look at this first.”

Caleb pulled out his phone and you begrudgingly looked at it. He tapped the icon of a travel agency app and a reservation page opened, complete with a scannable barcode.

It was for a newly opened hot spring resort—one that had been all over your social media feed lately. You turned to him, eyes bright with hope.

Caleb leaned in. “We’re going this weekend, sounds good?”

“Yay!” you immediately tackled him that he fell into the sheets, peppering his face with kisses, to his satisfaction, finally.

“Now, now… who is the least sought after girl in the land?” he pressed both hands to your waist, his purple eyes twinkling. “Not you, correct?”

Your eyes narrowed in slits. “I was for two weeks.”

“Uh-oh, you just have the patience of a sinner, that’s why.”

You grabbed his cheeks and squeezed them, and Caleb cackled again.

Weekend came at last, and both of you embarked on your romantic getaway.

The hot spring was just as enticing as you’d imagined—soft steam curling into the air, the quiet murmur of water, the kind of warmth that melted tension straight from your bones. After checking into your room, you both changed into your hot spring attire.

You slipped into the water first, waiting for Caleb. The warm water felt heavenly against your calves, and you craned your neck and stretched out your legs lazily beneath the surface, toes tracing gentle ripples as you let yourself relax.

“Hm, looks like my girl’s gotten nice and comfortable already.”

A moment later, you heard the faint splash behind you. Caleb stepped in, lowering himself into the spring until the water lapped just below his chest.

Your gaze flickered, drawn to him. The broad line of his shoulders, his toned arms, the defined abs of his torso...

Your man is delectable. And of course, he noticed your ravenous gaze.

A quiet, amused hum left him as he shifted closer, before leaning in and resting his head against your knees as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Comfy?” you asked, your hand had already found its way into his damp hair, fingers threading through it gently.

“Mhm.” Caleb pressed a kiss on your knee. “Get down with me, will you?”

He wasn’t really asking— with the way he tugged you down into the simmering water with him. A soft gasp slipped from you as you were pulled closer to be in his embrace, the warmth of the spring enveloping you.

“Now, this is comfy.”

He drew in a slow breath, his hands wandering along the familiar curves of your body—reverent, like he’d been deprived for far too long.

“Missed you,” he murmured softly in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

You barely had time to respond before he tilted your chin up, and devoured your lips.

The kiss came warm and lingering— neither rushed or teasing. Just him, pouring everything he hadn’t said into the way his lips and tongue moved against yours. His hands steadied at your waist, pressing you against him, the heat of the water only served to make you clung to one another.

You exhaled softly against him, fingers curling into his damp hair as you kissed him back, deeply, like you’d been waiting just as long.

Caleb let out a low, contented hum, the sound vibrating between you. This was exactly where he wanted to be. His thumb brushed circles against your side, grounding, affectionate, while he savored in the kiss just a little longer.

A quiet, breathy sound slipped from him as he crashed you against him. Before you could fully gather your thoughts, he moved—smooth and effortless—lifting you so your legs settled on either side of him as the two of you sank together onto the hammock.

“Haah...” he let out a strained breath when he finally pulled away, his amethyst eyes completely darkening with lust. His fingers slid beneath your chin, tilting your face up toward him, his gaze drinking you in.

A faint blush had already crept across his features—whether from the heat of the spring, the kiss, or both. The way his thumb lingered near your jaw, the way his eyes softened just slightly despite the intensity… it made your breath catch all the same.

It wasn’t fair that you were the only one being flustered... so in a split second, you decided to turn the tables— by grabbing the visible bulge of his manhood.

“Ngh—” he sucked in a sharp breath, almost cursing, bracing himself on the railings so he wouldn’t slip. But you only smiled so sweetly at him, stroking his member through the thin barrier of damp fabric.

He was thick, long, hard... and gradually harder under your touch. The way your fingers brushing adeptly and sneakily squeezing him made Caleb lose all his wits.

“Y-You…” he groaned, his voice rough, pulled from depths of his chest. He was no beginner, but your touch was overwhelming in the best way—and you were mean for not giving him what he wanted so easily.

Just when your touch had him tensing and almost losing it, you slowed.

“Fuck.” He exhaled harshly, frustrated and feeling the loss. “I never taught you that. You’re... doing this on purpose—” he gritted out, voice tight with disbelief, his forehead briefly resting against yours.

You only hummed in response, feigning innocence, even as your pace remained agonizingly slow, knowing it was getting painful for him.

“Say the magic word first,” you countered, tone bewitching, “and maybe I’ll be nice and help.”

Caleb let out a breath that was half a laugh, half a snort, his eyes flickering with lust of no return.

“Don’t test me,” he warned, though the way his increasingly labored breaths said he was already losing that battle.

“Uh-oh, that’s not it.”

“Please—”

“Not that either~”

The way he grimaced to hold back the growl coming up in his throat gave you total satisfaction. To know and see that Caleb, usually so high and mighty in everything, turned into an utter mess just because you edged him was gratifying—

“You are so cruel.” He suddenly took a hold of your wrist that was stroking him. His expression twitched, tension evident as his cock throbbed, and he gave in to the frustration of being denied what he so clearly wanted.

“Ehh, that’s not—”

“I love you.”

The words came so suddenly it caught you off guard. You stilled, blinking at him, and for a brief, fragile second, his expression softened into something so earnestly disarming that it made your chest tighten.

In that one brief second, he was not the playful man he made himself to be—but the kind gege who had been with you since childhood, the one who stood between you and anything that dared to hurt you.

But then—

Caleb’s lips curved. The softness of his smile twisted into a cunning smirk.

“Got you.”

You realized too late that you had fallen into his trap. He took over the control as he yanked your panties, and you gasped when he suddenly breached you with two fingers at once. He steered with renewed confidence, no longer at your mercy.

“Ahh!”

Caleb only chuckled, clearly pleased with himself at the way you writhed beneath him, water splashing uselessly around you.

“I’m not spilling anywhere but inside you,” he taunted, watching you barely holding back your moans as he set the harsh pace. “So be good for me and just take it, hm?”

It didn’t take long to reach your climax, the pain and pleasure crashing over you so intensely it left you trembling. By the time he finally pulled his fingers away, your vision was blurred with tears, your breath uneven.

Caleb observed your the slickness between his fingers, satisfied, as he sucked it off.

“Now, time to tend to me.”

He had always had a penchant for being rough, but you could have sworn he was never this impatient before. Had you pushed him too far?

Your husband moved you to the slightly drier spot. He settled himself before you, and you could only watch as he parted your legs with practiced ease—

“Here we go.”

The stretch made your breath hitch, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes once more as you clung to him instinctively. “C-Caleb...!”

He growled, feeling how tight you were around him. He pushed himself deeper and made himself fit, savoring your strained screams.

You thought you were already on the brink of losing yourself when he found that sensitive spot—but the moment he began to move, you realized, helplessly, that there was something far more overwhelming waiting for you.

“Ah— Caleb!” you squealed, arching your back shamelessly, as his hips rolled and hit you in that one spot over and over. A shaky breath left you, your fingers clawing at the marbled floor, only able to receive him.

A wicked glint flickered in his eyes. “Shh… we’re in public, remember?”

Like hell you care. At this point, all you could do was hope the walls of this resort were soundproof.

His lips burned, sucking off your skin so harshly that you were certain your breasts and chest would be littered with hickeys when he was done. A tight, coiling tension deep within you wound tighter with every passing second, pulling you closer and closer to oblivion.

Caleb was the very picture of a man drunk on his woman, relishing in the total pleasure he brought both you and himself, as he kept pounding you like there was no tomorrow—

Your lewd moans. How deliciously tight you are. The very erotic sight of how his little wife aches, torn between wanting him and seemingly unable to take him because he is just that good— he was caught hook, line, and sinker.

The last thing you remembered was how he buried himself to the hilt as ropes after ropes of his cum filling your womb.

When you opened your eyes again, the first thing you saw was Caleb hovering over you, worry etched clearly across his face.

“You awake?” he asked, his cool palm resting against your forehead. His brows furrowed then. “You’re still warm…”

What happened? You only felt like you had fallen into a deep slumber.

Before you could fully respond, he reached for a water bottle on the nightstand. “Here, drink.”

He lifted the bottle to your lips as you slowly rose, tilting it just enough, patient as he made sure you had a few steady sips. When you were done, he patted you in the head and smiled. “Good girl.”

You blinked up at him, still a little dazed. “...Why?”

“You passed out. You kinda scared me, you know? I thought I have broken you.”

That got a small giggle out of you. Caleb had an apologetic smile on his face as he settled beside you on the bed. That was when you noticed that you were already changed into your pajamas—he must have cleaned and dressed you.

“Was I too rough with you?” he asked, searching your face. His fingers played with your hair in slow, soothing strokes. You shifted and sure enough, you winced from feeling a bit sore.

His brows knit tighter, noticing your expression. “Next time, tell me if you can’t take it anymore. I’ll stop, ’kay?”

“That’s just how you are. When have you ever been not rough?” you joked, but unexpectedly, his smile fell.

It was subtle but of course you knew. His hand stilled for a moment before resuming its slow strokes. He didn’t reply right away, a conflicted fog settling over his expression.

And you didn’t like that, because you knew him.

Nine times out of ten, when Caleb went quiet and started sinking into his own thoughts, it meant he was deciding something on his own again, convinced he was acting in your best interest.

“…Caleb,” you called, poking his chest.

“Hm?”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Pinching your brows like that. You’ll get early wrinkles.” You poked his chest again, frowning. “I’m fine, you see? If you’re pulling a sex ban on me next, I swear—”

“Pftt,” he burst into a chuckle despite himself. “Relax. I’m nowhere saintly enough to deny myself life’s greatest pleasures.”

Caleb engulfed you in bear hug next, breathing in your scent and patted you in the back. Meanwhile you clung into him, burying your face in his steady, warm chest.

In that moment, you felt so incredibly safe, completely sheltered in his hold.

“…Seriously,” his voice was muffled, “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

You felt a smile on your face. “You could never.”

There was one inherent instinct both of you shared—an unspoken pull to protect each other, no matter what. You knew he lived by it, because you had felt it yourself. Ever since he was a boy, he had always been your constant, someone who would willingly stand as your shield against rain and storms.

your fingers danced along the cool leather hugging his neck, imagination running wild as you ignored the look of amusement etched on his face. 

“this is- what- the third collar I’ve seen you wear now? how cute!” your hands grabbed his face in order to rub your nose against his affectionately. 

sylus huffed out a laugh. 

“cute, huh?”

“yeah…” your eyes widened with feigned innocence, fingers slowly sliding downward…

hooking into the collar. 

though his face conveyed no reaction, you felt his pulse quicken.

“… it’s almost like you keep wearing them because you want me to notice,” the worlds slid from your lips more sultry, a playful smile curling your lips. 

he hummed. 

“bold of you to assume I wear them for you, sweetie.”

his voice had lowered to a dangerous pitch, and you could see a faint glow surfacing in his right eye. 

so you gave him the prettiest, most insincere pout you could muster.

“don’t you?”

he shook his head. not answering, but dismissing the question while his hands squeezed your thighs where you straddled him on the couch. a lazy challenge gleamed in his eyes as he tilted his head back, staring at you with a half-lidded gaze.

“why would I?” 

pulling back with a dramatic huff, you crossed your arms. 

“you think you’re so tough,” you stood up, watching as his own expression shifted to a frown, “but I know the truth.” 

“the truth…” he repeated, an eyebrow raising as confusion set in. 

you nodded firmly before leaning down to wrap your fingers around the collar again. 

this time his gaze dropped to your lips as you spoke. 

“deep down…” 

you trailed off to place a feather-light kiss on his lips, nipping his bottom lip before you pulled back to whisper, 

“… you’re such a good boy.” 

you had never seen that man blush so furiously. 

his chest collapsed with a heavy breath, which he poorly attempted to cover up by pretending it was a laugh. 

“did you really think that would wor-“

you pressed a finger to his lips to silence him, admiring his valiant effort to recalibrate as his entire body betrayed him. 

bringing one knee to kneel on the sofa between his, you gave a light tug on the collar. your mouth curved into a wicked smile. 

“bark for me.” 

he regained enough of his composure to let out a low laugh before replying, “really, kitten?” 

you tugged again, causing him to let out a quiet gasp. his eyes darkened as he considered your demand, gaze narrowing when he finally surrendered. 

“woof.”

it came out in a voice so low that it was practically a growl, his lip curling back in an almost-snarl. 

“good boy,” you crooned, triumph lighting your eyes before you leaned closer and kissed him earnestly. 

he groaned when you pulled away, hands reaching for you as you made to get up. but your fingers were still hooked around the collar, and he jolted as you tugged him up with you. 

“wanna see what else this collar will get you?” you winked. 

“I thought that was obvious,” he mumbled as he reached to pull you closer. 

“uh-uh!” you warned with another tug to the collar, “first…” you held your other hand firmly against his chest to keep him from moving, “who do you wear the collar for?” 

with equal amounts of heat, desperation, and something fiendish that stirred deep within him, he replied, “you, kitten.”

and so you tugged him all the way to the bedroom. 

dividers by @uzmacchiato

Sylus

You had a ridiculous, and maybe not so slightly arousing, idea: creating a cologne that was uniquely Sylus.

So, you found a perfume-making workshop in Linkon and spent all of your free time there.

You really did not think Sylus would notice. That was your mistake. Sylus noticed everything about you. Still, you had assumed he would not care that much, especially since he was usually asleep during the day.

Until one evening, you spent too much time trying and failing to create the perfect blend. It was already too late to drive to N109. And the thought of wasting even more time on the road made you sigh in defeat. You would have less time with Sylus before you inevitably fell asleep and that was the last thing you wanted. So you went home and sent him a quick apology and promised to make it up to him.

Half an hour later, you heard a knock on your door. You frowned, glancing at the clock before opening it anyway.

“Sylus?” You blinked in surprise. “Why are you here? And did you use your Evol to teleport all the way from N109?”

He ignored your question entirely, strolling past you into your apartment before stopping so suddenly that you nearly collided with his back. Sylus took a slow, deliberate inhale, then turned and closed the distance between you in a single effortless motion. Before you could react, he had you pinned against the door, his body warm and solid against yours. He leaned down, nuzzling into your neck and dragging his nose along your skin.

“What’s this?” he murmured, his voice low and amused. “Little dragon cancels on me, and now I find her smelling like another man?”

You gripped his broad shoulders, trying to stay on your feet while squirming at the ticklish sensation of his hair against your cheek.

“S-stop…” you laughed breathlessly. “It’s not like that. I wanted to make a cologne with your scent, so I signed up for lessons at a perfume workshop.”

“Oh?” Sylus did not stop sniffing you, as though he could not help himself. You could feel the faint rumble of his chest against you, almost like a purr.

“Mhm. That’s why I canceled today. I got too invested in it and lost track of time.”

He drew in one last deep breath, taking in the mix of whiskey, spice, and something unmistakably you before finally pulling back.

“Why pay for lessons?”

You stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“I have a perfectly functional perfume-making workshop in N109.” His red eyes gleamed with smugness. “And something tells me the ingredients there are far better than whatever they use in Linkon.”

You rolled your eyes, exasperated, and reached up to ruffle his hair, messing it up a little.

“Of course you do,” you said. “Why am I not surprised?”

Sylus caught your wrist with a satisfied smirk, still looking far too pleased with himself.

“I have a lot of interests,” he said, leaning close again, “And now you won’t have to cancel on me again.”

Caleb

Caleb was away on Fleet business so often that you decided to make your own cologne blend that would suit him. Not to gift it to him, though. The idea was simpler and a little more personal than you’d admit out loud. You wanted to spray it on your clothes, your pillows, anything you could. Just so you could at least feel like you still had him nearby while he was gone. You didn’t think much of it at first.

Now your apartment always smelled like one of your experimental blends. You kept tweaking it, getting closer and closer to something that felt right until one day you succeeded. It wasn’t perfect, but it was him. So now your whole space smelled like Caleb.

There were still a few days until his return, so that morning you sprayed the blend everywhere, taking slow, deep breaths. Somehow, it soothed your frayed nerves. You found yourself worrying about his mission in the Deepspace Tunnel just a little less.

It was midday when you suddenly heard your front door open. You frowned. Weird. Only Caleb had a key, and he wasn’t supposed to be back yet. Grabbing the biggest frying pan you could find, you held it like a weapon and crept into the hallway.

“What’s that, little apple?” Caleb’s voice cut through the silence.

He stood there in his Colonel uniform, still clearly fresh from travel, disheveled and tired. “Were you expecting a robbery?”

Before you could answer, his expression shifted. The teasing warmth vanished. His features sharpened instantly, purple eyes turning cold and focused. His jaw tightened so hard you could see the muscle twitch.

“Caleb?” you asked quietly.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he marched through your apartment, throwing open doors one after another, scanning everything like he was clearing a battlefield. You followed him, confused, until he stopped in the middle of the living room. His eyes pinned you in place.

“What’s that smell?” he asked, eerily calm.

You blinked and then, despite yourself, burst out laughing. Caleb’s glare deepened immediately, a low growl slipping from his throat.

“Sorry, sorry,” you managed between laughs, wiping at your eyes. You put away the frying pan and walked toward him. Up close, you could see just how tense he really was.

“I was just a bit lonely while you were away,” you admitted softly. “So I started looking into perfume-making workshops. I wanted to create a cologne with your scent.”

Your voice softened into something more sincere. “Something I could keep with me.”

His chest heaved slightly at your words. Then, just like that, Caleb deflated. The tension drained out of him as he dropped his head onto your shoulder, letting out a slow breath he had clearly been holding.

“What,” you teased lightly, wrapping your arms around his waist, “you thought I had another man in here?”

“No,” he said immediately, too quickly.

That earned him another quiet laugh from you. You weren’t even surprised the next day when you walked into the workshop and found him there, already talking to the instructor, claiming he needed a perfume with your scent to help him stay sane on long missions

Rafayel

Your phone looked like it was about to take off from the sheer number of texts it was receiving.

You did not even need to check the screen to know who it was. Rafayel.

Any other time, you would have answered immediately. Partly because you genuinely did not want to upset your fishie, and partly because dealing with Rafayel in full dramatic meltdown mode was… exhausting. He would start claiming you hated him, that you were abandoning him, that your love had clearly been a lie. All because you took longer than five seconds to reply.

But right now, you were busy.

You adjusted the proportions again, adding just a drop more of the base note before swirling the vial gently. The scent shifted, closer, but not quite right. Not him yet.

Your phone buzzed again.

And again.

And again.

The vibration grew stronger, rattling faintly against the table like it might actually throw itself off the edge out of sheer desperation. You ignored it, too focused on the blend in front of you. This one had to be right.

Your phone lit up once more.

Rafayel: So you’ve decided to abandon me.

Another buzz.

Rafayel: At least have the decency to say it to my face. Rafayel: I deserve that much.

You winced a little, but still did not pick it up. Ten more minutes passed. You barely noticed. Another message.

Rafayel: …Have I done something wrong? Rafayel: Please, answer… Rafayel: Don’t abandon me… Rafayel: Please?..

The scent in the vial had finally settled into something soft, layered, so unmistackenly him. It made your chest tighten. And suddenly, the silence on your end felt a little too loud. You’ve finally reached for your phone and looked through almost a hundred unanswered messages from Rafayel, each one getting more desperate then the last. Guilt hit you all at once. You cursed yourself and quickly typed back that you were on your way. The drive to his studio has been a blur. You were pretty sure you broke at least three traffic rules, but you didn’t care.

By the time you arrived, your heart was pounding. You slipped inside quietly, unsure of what you would find.

The studio was eerily silent.

Then you saw him.

Rafayel sat in front of a canvas, completely still, a brush hanging loosely in his hand. He did not blink. Did not move. It was as though all the energy he usually carried had drained out of him, leaving behind something hollow and fragile.

“Rafayel?” you called softly.

No response.

You stepped closer. “Hey… I’m here.”

Slowly, his head turned. Those blue-pink eyes locked onto you, and for a split second, something sharp flickered in them. Not anger. Not quite relief. Something deeper.

“You came,” he said quietly.

Then, just as quickly, his expression twisted. His lips trembled. His eyes glossed over and a stray tear rolled down his cheek. The second it left his skin, it turned into a deep blue pearl.

Your heart clenched painfully at the sight.

Rafayel had already turned away from you, back toward the blank canvas, as if looking at you any longer would make whatever was left of his composure disappear completely.

You sighed and walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your chin on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured. “I was at a perfume-making workshop. I was trying to capture your scent, you know.”

You nuzzled into his neck, taking a slow breath. His shoulders loosened almost imperceptibly.

“So you were trying to bottle me?” he asked, and there it was again that familiar note of amusement, fragile but returning. And you could hear the pout even beneath the teasing.

“Yes,” you admitted. “And you were being very dramatic.”

Rafayel let out a soft huff, though he still leaned back into you. “I was not being dramatic. I was being neglected.”

You smiled against his neck. “You sent nearly a hundred messages.”

“That only proves my point.”

At that, you finally felt the last of the tension in his body ebb away. He tilted his head just enough to brush his cheek against yours, and his voice dropped into something quieter, more genuine.

“Next time,” he muttered, “take me with you.”

And then, with a tiny wicked curve of his lips, he added, “Or at least reply before I start dying of heartbreak again.”

Zayne

Zayne had noticed something was different long before you said anything. At first, it was subtle. A small shift in the way you smelled when the two of you met. Barely there, easy to miss. He said nothing. He simply committed it to memory. Then it became consistent. Every time you were near him, the scent changed slightly. Not enough for most people to notice, but enough for him. Zayne waited. And when the pattern stopped being a coincidence, he finally asked.

“Have you changed your perfume?”

You were sitting together on a bench in a quiet corner of the park, far from the usual foot traffic.

“Hm?” You glanced at him, confused. “No, I didn’t change it. Why?”

Zayne adjusted his glasses and studied you more closely.

“No? It changed a few weeks ago,” he said evenly. “And it has been slightly different each time we’ve met since.”

You stared at him.

“You can tell that precisely?”

“It’s my job to notice even the slightest changes,” he replied as composed as ever.

A grin tugged at your lips. You reached into your bag, rummaging for a moment before pulling out a small glass vial.

“I’ve been trying to make this,” you said.

You gently took his wrist, applying a small amount of the perfume to his skin. Your fingers lingered for a second longer than necessary before you let go. Zayne lifted his hand, bringing it closer as he inhaled once.

The silence stretched.

“Well?” you asked, unable to hide the slight tremor in your voice. You clasped your hands together to steady them. “I’ve been working on it for a while. I even signed up for a perfume-making workshop. I wanted to create something that was… uniquely you.”

“It’s accurate,” he said at last.

Your heart skipped. “That’s it?”

Zayne reached for your hands, gently prying them apart and holding them in his own. His grip was firm, grounding.

“It’s not something most people would consciously notice,” he continued, tone calm and analytical. “But it aligns with your previous attempts. You refined the base. Reduced the sharper top notes. The composition is more balanced now.”

You blinked at him. “You can tell even that?”

“I notice everything about you.”

The words were simple. The weight behind them was not.

For a brief moment, his gaze softened just enough to make your breath catch.

“If this is meant to represent me,” he added, quieter now, “then you’ve done it correctly.”

Before you could respond, he lifted your hand slightly and pressed a brief, deliberate kiss to your wrist. When he pulled back, his expression had already settled into its usual composure.

 “However,” he continued, as if nothing had happened, “you should be mindful of overexposure. Repeated inhalation of concentrated compounds…”

You laughed, cutting him off, and Zayne paused with the faintest hint of resignation in his eyes.

“I know, Doctor Zayne.”

Xavier

You woke to the insistent sound of your alarm.

With a quiet groan, you reached blindly toward your bedside table and turned it off. The room fell back into silence, warm and still, the kind that made it tempting to close your eyes again. You shifted, intending to get out of bed. A familiar arm slipped around your waist before you could move any further, pulling you back against a warm chest. Xavier nuzzled into the back of your neck. You giggled, squirming slightly as soft hair brushed against the back of your neck, tickling you.

“Xavie,” you murmured, voice still thick with sleep. “I need to get up.”

“Mhm…” he hummed, barely awake, his hold tightening just a little. “Stay. It’s too early anyway.”

You let out a breathy laugh.

“It’s not early, you sleepyhead. And I need to go somewhere.”

He did not respond right away. For a moment, you thought he had already fallen back asleep.

Then his grip shifted, subtle but firm enough to keep you in place.

“Where?” he asked quietly.

You hesitated for a second. “Just… somewhere.”

That earned you a soft exhale against your skin, almost like a sigh. His nose brushed along your neck again, slow and absentminded.

“You’ve been leaving a lot lately,” he said.

It was not accusatory. Just… a statement. You blinked, a little surprised by that.

“I have not,” you said, though it came out weaker than you intended.

“Mhm.” His voice was still calm, still soft but there was something more awake in it now. “You smell different every time you come back.”

That made you pause.

Xavier shifted slightly behind you, just enough to press his face closer to your neck again, inhaling slowly.

“I’m just trying to make something,” you quietly admitted.

He made a small, thoughtful sound but didn’t reply. You could feel it that he was waiting. Listening. And he wasn’t going to let you go until you explained.

“I signed up for a perfume-making workshop,” you continued softly. “I had this idea… to make a cologne with your scent.”

“Why?”

You shrugged slightly. “I just wanted to try something new.”

Then you hesitated for a second and decided to be honest.

“You scent calms me down,” you murmured. “Especially when you’re not here.”

The shift was immediate. One second, you were wrapped in his arms. The next, your world shifted. Xavier moved with sudden, quiet precision, turning you onto your back. The mattress dipped as he leaned over you, his knees settling on both sides of you. He pinned your wrists gently but firmly above your head.

“Xav?..” you squeaked, startled.

He was fully awake now.

His expression hadn’t changed much. Still that calm, unreadable look but his gaze felt sharper, more focused as it rested on you.

“If you recreate my scent perfectly…” he said, voice low and even, “will I still need to be here?”

The question lingered in the air, heavier than it should have been. You blinked up at him, your heart picking up pace. Not from fear, but from the strange weight behind his words.

“That’s not…” you started, then stopped, searching his face. “That’s not why I’m doing this.”

Xavier didn’t move. His grip didn’t tighten, but it didn’t loosen either.

“Then why?” he asked.

You swallowed.

“Because it reminds me of you,” you said softly. “Not replaces you.”

Something flickered in his eyes, subtle, but there.

His gaze lingered on your face for a moment longer before he leaned down slightly, just enough for his forehead to brush against yours.

“Good,” he murmured.

The tension eased. Not completely but enough. After a second, his grip on your wrists loosened, though he didn’t move away entirely. Instead, he rested there, close, his presence warm and grounding.

“You can go,” he added quietly.

A pause.

“After five more minutes.”