Sylus, Rafayel, Zayne

STARRING: XAVIER SHEN

Sleep Well, Little Star | @loveanddeephistory

As someone who took a minute to warm up to Xavier, this firmly got me in the boat and helped me understand a lot of his characterization, especially because it’s so expertly done. I think the approach to the self aware trope is so incredibly interesting here that I’ve already re-read it a couple times. I absolutely love this fic and really consider this to be the fic that got me obsessed with Xavier.

Random Xavier Headcanons | @xaviersbunny

I think these bring some adorable and hilarious points of view on Xavier that might not seem obvious at first but are so true. Prepare to see xaviersbunny a few more times lol, her random headcanons are perfectly in character and I couldn’t leave them out.

Paper Rings (and All My Dreams) | @starryeyed-knight

The sentimental side of Xavier is one I think we don’t get to see very often, and I cannot express how much I love it whenever I get a glimpse. There’s something so intimate about this fic, it truly feels like a secret whispered between lovers.

Thrown to the Wolves | @xinghuisknight

This hurts in the best way possible. Each line in this fic is so beautifully written, it’s impossible to pick out a favorite quote. Everything about this is just masterfully done, and the emotions are so raw and real. It’s absolutely delicious.

Into the Sun | @starkissedxav

Xavier has such a subtle kind of care that I absolutely love to see. He’s so attentive and observant, and this fic makes sure that that aspect shines through. This fic is so wonderfully soft, it feels like a warm hug with every sentence. It holds a good reminder that although things may get heavy, there’s always someone to help lighten the load.

STARRING: ZAYNE LI

To Come Home | @mythblossoms

So domestic and sweet, this is what Zayne truly deserves. I love the way this fic is written, the subtle care and love feels like it’s woven into each sentence.

Random Zayne Headcanons | @xaviersbunny

These made me laugh so hard and manage to show some (albeit minor) faults in the typically picture-perfect Doctor Zayne. I love seeing different sides of him in these headcanons that aren’t front and center in a lot of the in-game cards.

Love Beyond the Game | @pawpurrin

I really love the self aware turned reverse isekai perspective of this fic, and it really kept me on the edge of my seat. I loved seeing the slow build of the relationship and all the comforting domesticity. The sad ending is so beautifully heartbreaking, and the happy ending is just perfectly warm, I love them both.

Learned by Heart | @deepspacenova

Zayne and his way of loving is captured beautifully here. I live for the domesticity of their love. And his little nerdy side is absolutely adorable (as expected lol). This is certain to make anyone fall in love with him, whether they’re a Zayne main or not.

More than Macarons | @miscellaneous-misty

Zayne is so pathetically in love in this fic, it’s absolutely adorable. Seeing him so unguarded is so much fun, it’s almost as if he’s letting out his inner child that’s never gotten a chance to shine. Even our most stoic doctor deserves a moment of relief <3

Two Halves of a Whole | @snowypi

What can I say, I love the yearning. And this fic might just be the personification of it. Seeing Zayne so (quite honestly) pathetically in love is so heartwarming. This sort of innocent love is hard to come by in the aptly-called Love and Depression, but seeing it here feels so natural. It’s just like a warm embrace.

My Love Mine All Mine | @zaynezone

This almost made me cry. The descriptions of the aftermath of a nightmare were perfect, and Zayne’s comfort was absolutely wonderful. I love seeing his authoritative care throughout, and the his comments about alternate universes really stuck with me. I just love this piece so much.

STARRING: RAFAYEL QI

Masks | @dissociativewriter

There are so many metaphors woven throughout this fic that I absolutely love seeing built upon as it continues. The use of masks to show Rafayel’s struggle to be himself felt so real and the depictions of depression felt so real. This is just such an interesting read that I’ve come back to read a few times.

Vlogger!Rafayel Tries to Survive a Week Without You | @jellyelle

The progression on this is absolutely perfect, it makes this fic such an entertaining read. I love Rafayel slowly descend into that pathetic loverboy who misses his cutie. A perfect amount of dramatization and realness combine to make a perfect characterization.

Precipices | @starryeyed-knight

There’s so much yearning in this fic and I love it so much. Abysswalker!Rafayel is such an interesting character, and being able to see through his nonchalant mask is wonderful. Combine that with beautiful prose, and this fic is just absolutely amazing.

His Hands, Your Sculptor | @soursugarbomb

This fic is just so beautifully poetic. It’s a wonderful examination of Rafayel’s character and the way he loves. His need to have this love last without slipping through his hands is heartbreaking, and the entire fic is just gorgeous. In my opinion, it’s a must-read.

Random Rafayel Headcanons | @xaviersbunny

These are sure to bring a laugh while also being so true to his character. There’s a unique perspective on Rafayel here that I think isn’t seen very often but is so so correct. I think this really shows that chaotic nature of his personality, and the vulnerability hiding not far beneath the surface.

Eye of the Beholder | @dissociativewriter

I really love the perspective on art and beauty here and I think it correctly shows how Rafayel would view it as well. It’s an unexpectedly comforting read with a lot of beauty to be found in such a short fic.

Submerged Devotion | @acaffeinated-constellation

Seeing it go from self aware to reverse-isekai is soooo cool. Lemurian Sea God Rafayel is so beautiful and terrifying to see, and I love the way he appears in this fic. Throughout this entire series, there is such creativity flowing through it that keeps me intrigued and on my toes.

Paparazzi and Parasols | @hirayalia

It’s just so cute to see Rafayel get flustered (I love his little blush!) but I really love the relationship dynamic they have going on here. I don’t see the bodyguard role come into play a lot in fics, and I love seeing it here. Plus Rafayel is so perfectly dramatic, this is just an adorably entertaining read all around.

STARRING: SYLUS QIN

Relentless Conqueror | @dragondelulu

This really captures the strategist part of Sylus’s character, and it perfectly meshes with the softness he holds for his love. Seeing him quickly adapting to life in a new world is so interesting to see, this fic is just perfect.

CEO!Sylus x Secretary!Reader | @souliloqui

Hilariously combining the Y/N & CEO trend with a delusion Y/N makes this one of the funniest fics I’ve read. Even through that humor, there are moments of vulnerability in the series that I love getting glimpses of, however brief. This is a spectacular read all around.

Crow Family Shenanigans | @dissociativewriter

Luke and Kieran as six year olds is something I didn’t know I needed, and yet I’m obsessed. Quiet family life with Sylus is absolutely adorable, and seeing him navigate the possibility of a new relationship even with his trust issues and desire to protect his sons is so interesting and wonderful to see.

Sylus’s Little Twins | @abyssyby

Urs gives Sylus the soft epilogue he truly deserves, and Lucian and Kyros are so insanely adorable, I can’t take it. Managing to make everything so intimate and yet silly is truly a gift, and this is a must-read for anyone, Sylus main or not.

Until You Are Ready | @atzeroo

Sylus’s insistence that his partner recognize their worth is displayed beautifully here, and in a way that is sure to comfort the reader as well. Though it nearly made me cry, this is a fic I’ve reread again and again due to the quiet beauty of it.

To Call | @terriblesoup

Seeing Sylus’s reaction to someone finally trusting him with their vulnerability is somewhat heartbreaking, and yet beautiful at the same time. I love this fic and I think it truly shows Sylus’s tendency to take care of those close to him, it’s all just so so sweet.

The Choices We Make | @thechaoticarchivist

I, unfortunately, have not yet read nearly as much of this series as I would have liked to. However, from the very beginning, it becomes so clear why everyone who reads this fic so highly recommends it. Masterful writing and an intriguing plot line make this an absolutely wonderful read. :)

Doomed | @dissociativewriter

Though some of the gore may be a bit difficult to get through, the raw devotion of this fic is beautiful. It nearly made me cry but it’s so worth it. Poetic throughout, the yearning and heartache makes this a wonderful read.

Sweetness | @terriblesoup

I really love quiet comfort with Sylus, and this fic might just be the personification of that. He always gives his lover the space to be themselves, and this really shows his need to have them come to him first. I think everyone needs an understanding like what Sylus gives here.

Oceans | @blessdunrest-deactivated2026042

Don’t worry, the link still works even though blessdunrest deactivated (I made sure it was a reblog lol). A wonderful snowcrow fic that puts Sylus’s insecurities at the forefront. I love the way it addresses his hesitance and blessdunrest always writes the most beautiful fics.

Random Sylus Headcanons | @xaviersbunny

To me these really let Sylus’s softer side shine through. Giggling at kids movies and being so willing to dote on his lover, it all just makes him seem more endearing. These headcanons seem nothing like the intimidating persona he often puts on, and yet they’re so in-character at the same time.

STARRING: CALEB XIA

Echo | @mythblossoms

This is such a beautifully crafted story. The depression is so real and viscerally depicted, and (without spoiling lol) the feeling that something is wrong follows you through the entire fic. It’s just expertly written and a wonderful read that had my head spinning.

His Hands, Your Gravity | @soursugarbomb

This is so gorgeously written that it honestly hurts. The way Caleb revolves around you, and the way you revolve around him in your own little universe is so beautiful. It’s just beautifully written, I’m afraid I’m at a loss for words.

Random Caleb Headcanons | @xaviersbunny

This really emphasizes Caleb’s different facets, although his habit of not taking care of himself is a moment of heartbreak in the midst of funny headcanons. Either way, Kenn once again nails characterization with some funnier perspectives.

Forget Me Not | @lowkeylaufeysons

Caleb is so disgustingly adorable in this and I am here for it. Seeing him have a naive sort of innocence, however brief, is absolutely wonderful. This is so sweet, seriously.

Making Up After a Fight | @starryeyed-knight

The aftermath of a fight always holds an interesting air, especially with such an intense character as Caleb. His devotion shines through, but even more so is his desperate reliance on MC. A wonderful hurt/comfort dynamic that I think sheds a lot of light on Caleb’s character.

Text Me Back When You Get Home | @someonestopsoren

This hurts so much. The grief, the feeling that something is missing, the regret is all beautifully written. I really enjoy any fics that show MC grieving Caleb, and the loss is so fresh in this fic that each feeling seems so real, like it’s happening to me.

Figured You Out | @deepspacenova

There’s something terrifying about this fic in a way that’s uniquely Caleb. His yandere tendencies dictate such a huge part of his character, and I think this fic expertly puts them front and center. It’s so interesting to read and really kept me on the edge of my seat.

Rely on Me | @mrsqins

I think this perfectly portrays the friction in Caleb and MC’s relationship after his return, as well as Caleb’s desperation to have her rely on him. Every reaction felt raw and real, and the shift from reliance to independence is so interesting to see.

MULTI

Meet Cute Scenarios | @chronosdawn

Each scenario is so cute (as the title suggests) it makes my heart hurt. Each interaction is so different and yet perfectly fits the kind of relationship I think each Love Interest would encourage. It seems like a view into a much softer world than that of the Love and Deepspace universe, and one I would definitely recommend.

Soulmates?! | @starkissedxav

This is absolutely adorable. Little glimpses of vulnerability combined with some flustered-ness makes this so sickeningly sweet. And there are some beautiful lines in here to boot. Just a wonderful read all around.

LADS Men Read Thirst Tweets | @jellyelle

This is so incredibly funny, I love it so much. Zayne misunderstanding everything is hilarious, Rafayel consistently mentioning his bodyguard is so evil of him, Sylus living up to his grandpa nickname is perfect, Xavier being so naive is adorable, and Caleb just feeding into everything is so mischievous. This is just so perfect, I love it.

Falling For You | @heartofafiend

To me, this really is a great examination on how the Love Interests love and what they tend to focus on. Each of them have a tendency to almost worship their significant other, and this fic picks apart how they would go about that. Plus it’s so, so sweet.

Oh, You’re a Disaster, Aren’t You? | @xxfrozenpearlsxx

I think this fic really shows each Love Interest’s desire to take care of their lover and the different ways they go about it. The comfort and subtle authority is just so perfectly in character, I found this to be a wonderfully heartwarming read.

Unnatural Affinity | @dissociativewriter

This is a perspective on isekai that I don’t see very often. I love the feelings of dissociation littered throughout and it truly keeps you on your toes. Heartbreaking at times and comforting in another, this is definitely a unique read that I keep coming back to.

At the Beach | @lunarify

Pure fluff that I think shows the kind of softness the Love Interests deserve in a relationship. I absolutely love seeing them away from the stress and pressure of their normal lives, and what better way to decompress than a day at the beach with their lover? ;)

Thunder Muffin | @gardenialily

This has to be the funniest Love and Deepspace fic I’ve read. The dynamics of each Love Interest combine beautifully here into a dramatically funny AU that I can’t wait to see more of.

What Will Happen to the LADS Men When You Finally Choose? | @snowypi

"Let's just say-" He's whispering right above your lips as his luminescent eyes search yours "I have no self preservation. Especially not against a woman as beautiful as you"

You both stumble through the door, hands tearing at his jacket and your coat as he drives you up the wood, holding your weight against the surface as his tongue plunges into your mouth again.

The bedroom is preferable but the couch is closer and you both try to make a fair attempt to reach it except Rafayel's already got two fingers breaching the waistband of your panties, teasing your soaking folds as you pant into his mouth "Right there?"

You nod, a whimper lodged in the back of your throat as he plunges the fingers into your waiting warmth, groaning when he feels just how wet you are for him. Curving his fingers, he's pumping them against that sweet spot that makes you moan, your head banging into the door behind you.

When he's made you cum so hard that you're still recovering from the aftermath, he's leaving kisses against your skin, rubbing his thigh between your legs again, breaking a whine out of you from how sensitive you were "Uh oh" He whispers, pulling your dress low enough to free your breasts, covering one with his mouth "Stranger danger"

Despite yourself, you laugh but it dies a short death when he pulls at your nipple making you moan, wrapping your legs tighter around his trim waist and lining yourself directly with his very prominent erection. He groans, biting down on your areola making you squeal as he pulls you away from the door and carries you to the couch.

For a man who looked so pretty and delicate, he was surprisingly strong and freakishly well-endowed if what you felt between your legs as you grind against him was any indication. And when Rafayel pushes your skirt up, lining himself behind you, you're suddenly apprehensive about how he'll make it fit.

"You're here to kill me after all" He groans as your walls flutter around his length to accommodate his size, screaming into the pillow as you arch your back to take him even better.

One moment you remember him thrusting into you so hard the couch is moving and screeching against the wood, the next you're in your bed with your knees folded till your chest as he moves above you, cooing at you as tears escape your eyes at the overstimulation. He's licking the tearstreaks, grunting right next to your ear as your walls squeeze and tighten around him with every drawn out thrust.

"I've got you" He's nodding, forehead pressed to yours as your mouth hangs agape while you chase that peak, tears free flowing while he brushes against that spongey spot with every thrust, his pelvis rubbing against your clit in the most perfect way "I've got you, pretty. Why don't you let go for me, hm?"

You're nodding too, broken whimpers escaping as your legs quake uncontrollably before you're gushing around him. Rafayel's right behind you, growling into your skin as his thrusts grow more desperate, fucking relentlessly into your swollen pussy and pumping you full of his cum.

Last thing you remember is kissing this gorgeous stranger who had eyes that sparkled so beautiful in the moonlight streaming through the windows.

"You're even more beautiful in daylight"

Nodding, you're picking up the clothes strewn on the floor, tossing the ones that belonged to him at his relaxed figure still lounging in your bed.

You'd woken up and made love to this man in bed before the sun had come up and then again in the shower just now but while you looked like anymore action would require you to get an IV drip, not only did this man have the stamina of a God, his skin glowed like it too? What the hell was his skincare routine?

"I'm Rafayel" He goes on and you shoot him a non-plussed look over your shoulder because of course a man who looked like that and fucked like he did couldn't be named something regular like Bob or Peter. Rafayel. He was such a Rafayel.

You know he's waiting for your name but you have no interest in giving it to him. Yesterday had been a celebration and while you were brazen enough to sleep with strangers and not truly commit, you weren't in the business of hoarding the strangers for long-term relationships.

Instead, you disappear into your closet to pick out your work clothes. You had to swing by the office before an important work lunch in the afternoon and if you successfully closed the deal, last night's celebration would not be in vain.

When you step out, Rafayel has thankfully taken the hint and gotten dressed too. He follows your cue and exits the bedroom behind you, still doing his best to get you to acknowledge his existence. Or help him be privy to yours.

Picking up his jacket that was still lying by the door, you hand it to him and open the door. Your declaration despite not using any words is crystal clear. Rafayel would love nothing more than take you out for breakfast, bring you home and do a full repeat of last night but you want to set clear boundaries of remaining strangers and he wants to respect that.

Or atleast try to.

He steps out but he's still in the doorway, preventing you from closing the door completely as he stares at you for a moment too long, gaze dropping to your lips before he's looking at you again "I don't even know your name"

"It's not worth remembering" You step back, hoping he will too but he's still got that kicked puppy look in his eyes that almost- almost melts your resolve.

"I'll remember it" He promises "Want to make you forget it next time we do this. Probably have you scream mine"

He's gonna wear you down at this rate and you know it. So you put that final nail in the coffin "Goodbye, Rafayel"

When you close the door behind you, you wonder if you should've at least told him you'd had a good time. Great time, even. Okay, you weren't kidding anyone. He'd shown you the most spectacular time and you'd wanted nothing more than to do it again too.

As you checked your day's to-do, you realized you didn't really have the time to.

Rafayel sent flowers to your apartment before you even left that morning. How he managed to do that in the span of the twenty minutes it had taken between you throwing him out and leaving for work, you didn't know. Still, he was an observant man too, if he had managed to deduce from the incense burning in your apartment that your favorite flowers were orchids.

As an art curator, you'd had your fair share of bizarre interactions. This definitely ranked in the top 3.

The flowers are still on your mind when you reach the restaurant where you're having your lunch meeting. Your friend's husband, Thomas, had wanted to introduce you to someone he'd described as simply phenomenal. For someone always looking for new talent, you'd easily agreed.

Your brows furrowed and lips lifted in a sardonic smile when you noticed the name on the card he'd given you. Rafayel. It was as if you simply couldn't escape that name today.

Or him, when the waitress showed you to the table where he was already seated next to Thomas, looking refined in his three piece suit and smiling at what you're sure he found to be a pleasant turn of events.

Xavier: Found something. Thought it might look good on your bed.

You tap the link eagerly, expecting a picture of some ridiculously soft, oversized penguin or maybe a weirdly cute dragon. You’re already mentally carving out a space for it on your bed.

The link loads. You blink.

Then you blink again.

Your thumb freezes mid scroll. It is not a penguin. It is definitely not a dragon. It is an explicitVIDEO that makes your entire face turn red in approximately 0.5 seconds.

Just as the girl in the video lets out a soft moan, your phone vibrates again. This time, it’s a frantic succession of messages.

Xavier: Wait, did that go through?

Xavier: The link?

Xavier: Please tell me you didn't click that yet.

You look at the video one last time before quickly locking your phone and pressing the cool glass against your burning cheek.

🌟 🌟 🌟 🌟 🌟 🌟 🌟 🌟 🌟 🌟 🌟 🌟 🌟 🌟 🌟 🌟

He doesn't say a word. He doesn't have to. The look in his deep blue eyes is heavy, dark, and entirely unapologetic.

The transition from his accidental text to both of you completely naked in your bed happens in less than 10 minutes. Because you’ve only been intimate for a few weeks, there’s still this electric, terrifying novelty to it, the way your heart hammers against your ribs when his hands touch your skin.

He’s behind you, his body acting as a warm, solid anchor. His skin is hot against yours, a seamless fit that feels like it was designed by the universe itself. But it’s what he’s doing, the agonizing patience of it that is pushing you toward the edge of madness.

He isn't fucking you. Not yet.

He's doing exactly what you saw on that video. He’s sliding his cock between your thighs, the slick, heavy length of him dragging slowly against you. Every single time he thrusts, the tip of him catches the little hood of your clit before dragging the lenght of his cock across your most vulnerable spot with a precision that feels soooo good.

"Xavie..." you moan, your voice breaking, a plea you can't quite finish.

"Shh," his breath is hot, uneven, smelling faintly of mint. His lips brush the sensitive curve of your neck. "Just breathe, bunny. Let it build."

He pulls back, nearly losing contact entirely, only to slide forward again, with enough pressure to make your eyes roll back.

"I've been thinking about this," he whispers, his lips brushing your earlobe, sending a violent shiver down your spine. "For months"

You let out a choked sob, head falling back against his shoulder. "You're so beautiful when you're desperate, you’re close, aren't you?"

His voice vibrates against your skin and the smile you can feel against your pulse point is nothing short of predatory. He knows. He’s always known exactly where you are, even when you’re too lost in the haze of pleasure to find the words.

You try to answer, but your voice is trapped somewhere in the back of your throat, drowned out by the thrum of your heartbeat. You don't speak, and he thrives on that silence. To him, your quiet isn't an absence, it’s an admission. It’s the honest, raw truth of a body that has been pushed past its limit and is now screaming for a release it can't quite grasp.

His hand slides down from your ribs to settle firmly on your waist. His grip is certain, unyielding and controlled anchoring you to the mattress so you can’t squirm away.

He presses a kiss to your neck. Once. Slow. Then again, lower, his lips grazing the curve where your shoulder meets collarbone. The heat of it enough to make you arch backward, your spine curving into him, while the dirty intent of his touch makes you clench around the empty air.

"Ask me, bunny," you try to find your voice, but all that comes out is a breathless hitch in your lungs. Seeing your struggle, he doesn't let you off the hook. He reaches up, his fingers tangling in your hair to gently but firmly tilt your head back toward him. He never breaks the rhythm, he angles his hips with precision, pressing the length of his cock harder against your clit, forcing a loud moan from your lips directly into his mouth.

"Use your words," he insists, his eyes dark and hooded, watching the way your expression fractures.

The words tumble out of you, wrecked and desperate, "I want to cum, Xavie... please..."

His lips crash against yours, but the sweetness is gone. He kisses you like his patience has finally grown teeth, hungry and sharp. His hand moves to your thigh, pressing down firmly to maximizing the friction, ensuring every single nerve ending is on fire, making sure you feel every bit of what you asked for.

The world simply ceases to exist. You both break at the exact same moment. You’re gasping, your hands instinctively flying to your own breasts, squeezing them as you chase the peak, your fingers digging into your skin for any extra stimulation you can find.

"There you are..." he whispers against your lips as he spills over your thighs, your cunt, and the damp sheets beneath you. He holds you there, pinning you to the moment, letting the aftershocks roll through you until your muscles begin to tremble into stillness.

When the world begins to drift back into focus, a languid warmth settling over your limbs, a realization begins to dawn on you. He didn't just give you an orgasm. He found a hidden part of you, the part that craves to be unraveled, the part that wants to be ruined slowly and meticulously and he taught it to answer to him, and him alone.

Bzzzz. Bzzzz

Caleb [14:22]: Found a recipe for a honey glazed salmon. Reminded me of that place we went to last week.

You’re supposed to be working on a pile of halfway finished reports on your desk but he’s been rambling about dinner for the past hour.

Caleb [14:23]: Let's try it tonight. Let me know if it looks okay to you.❤️

A link follows.

You tap it, expecting a colorful food blog or maybe one of those YouTube tutorials with a soft acoustic soundtrack. Your brain practically short circuits.

A VIDEO loads instantly. It’s not salmon. It's a girl, sprawled out on a bed, and there’s a man, looming over her as he... well, he's fucking her face. The girl is looking straight up at him, eyes glazed and heavy lidded, completely lost in it. The sound of the video starts to play before you can find the volume button.

"Oh my god," you whisper, frantically trying to close the tab.

Was this a joke? Or maybe a very, very subtle hint? Did the great Colonel Caleb actually just fumble the most embarrassing mistake of his entire life?

Bzzzz

Caleb [14:26]: Pips. The link was wrong. Ignore that. It was supposed to be a cooking blog. Please delete it.

You could pretend you didn't see a single thing and let him stew in his own embarrassment all day. You could let him suffer.

But then again... he did say he wanted to try something new tonight.

You type out a quick reply, heart racing just a little bit.

“The recipe looks good. Do you think we have all the ingredients?😉"

🍎 🍎 🍎 🍎 🍎 🍎 🍎 🍎 🍎 🍎 🍎 🍎 🍎 🍎 🍎 🍎

The dim light of the bedroom catches the violet of his eyes, making them look entirely too satisfied. He’s hovering over you, his broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the world, leaving you in a private universe where the only thing that exists is his weight and the heat of his cock.

His hands frame your face. "Look at me, baby,"

He guides himself to your lips and begins to slide in. He moves slowly, testing your limits, watching your eyes widen as you try to adjust.

"God, you look so good like this," he breathes, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. "With your mouth so full of me..."

The praise makes your head swim and your throat tighten.

"I should have done this sooner... I should have stopped playing the gentleman and just taken what's mine."

His slow pace breaks, and he thrusts deeper, a sudden surge that hits the back of your throat. Your eyes water instantly, an involuntary gag catching in your chest when your body tries to protest the sudden fullness.

"Silly girl," he coos, not pulling back. He stays right there, buried deep "Don't fight it. Just breathe through your nose"

He waits until he sees your nostrils flare, until you take a shaky, shallow breath through your nose, eyes locking onto his.

The moment you manage it, the tension in his shoulders melt "Theeeere we go," he whispers, giving you one more deep, slow slide, making sure you feel every inch of him. "Such a fast learner. My perfect... fuck... perfect girl."

The need to see just how far you can push him takes over and instead of just taking him, you begin to draw him in, sucking your cheeks in slowly, creating tight pressure around him.

A groan rips from his throat and his hands, which were previously just guiding your head, suddenly dig into your hair, fingers knotting into the strands with a force that almost hurts.

"Fuck, Pips..." his head falls back for a split second before he snaps his gaze back to yours "I didnt teach you that..."

He loses the battle with his own restraint and his hips begin to move with punishing speed. Every time the tip of his cock hits the very back of your throat you can feel the involuntary reflex of your throat tightening and saliva begins to pool at the corners of your lips. It’s messy but it’s exactly what he wants.

"Look at you," he pants, reaching down to catch a stray drop of saliva and smearing it across your chin "So messy for me. You're dripping all over yourself because you can't get enough. You want it all, don't you?."

Your lungs are screaming, your chest heaving in search for oxygen, but you don’t care. The burning in your throat is nothing compared to the sight of him right now, his eyes blown wide, his jaw locked, his face twisted with a kind of agony and ecstasy that he’d never show anyone else.

He’s on the edge. You can feel it in the way his thighs are trembling and he starts to pull away.

Your fingers dig into the hard, tensed muscles of his ass and with a sharp tug, you yank him back inside, slamming him against your face.

The sudden change in pressure snaps the last of his restraint. He doesn't fight you, he doesn't even try. He just collapses into the sensation, his entire body shuddering as he finally lets go.

You feel the first hot, thick burst of him erupt in the back of your throat, a sudden flood that makes you choke and gag, eyes watering.

"Fuck, I can't.. I... " he's shaking all over, his fingers bruising your scalp as he rides out the waves of release.

When he finally pulls away, he doesn't move far. He lingers, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw, his eyes searching yours.

 "You really won't let me have anything for myself, will you? he whispers, his voice rough and ruined. "You just have to take it all."

Your workday has been a total slog. Between the endless briefings at the Association and the exhaustion of keeping up with Wanderers, your brain feels like it’s been through a blender. All you can think about is getting home, kicking off your boots, and maybe if you’re lucky getting a moment of peace.

Until your phone buzzes in your pocket.

You pull it out, expecting a tactical update or maybe a nagging message from your supervisor, but it’s a text from Rafayel.

Rafayel: "My darling, my muse, my precious bodyguard, don't you dare go home and sleep yet”  the text reads, followed by a string of dramatic, pouting emojis. “Remember I have an exhibition today! It’s a secret location, very exclusive, very avant garde. You simply MUST come by after your shift. It’s going to be breathtaking, just like you. Don't be late, or I might actually die of loneliness. Here is the location!" 👇

LINK

You smile, a little warmth spreading through your chest despite the fatigue. He’s so much, truly, but he has a way of making the mundane parts of your life feel colorful. You tap the link, expecting a Google Maps pin or a sleek digital invite to a high end gallery in Linkon City.

Instead, your screen loads a video.

You aren't looking at a gallery. You are looking at a naked woman perched on a chair, looking entirely too comfortable, while a man, in front of her, puts on a very intense performance. The camera zooms in just as he reaches the grand finale, a messy orgasm that ends up all over the woman's legs, stomach and breasts.

You stare at the screen. You stare at the ceiling. You stare at the wall.

Did he... did he just send you a porn link?

Your phone vibrates again. A second text. Then a third. A fourth.

Rafayel: “Did you see it? The lighting is so evocative, don't you think?”

Rafayel: “The composition of the colors is quite striking.”

Rafayel: “Wait. Why aren't you responding? Are you mesmerized by the art? It's okay, take your time, it's quite a lot to take in"

Then, a final text arrives, and the tone shifts instantly from "pretentious artist" to "absolute disaster."

Rafayel:"Don't look at it! Close it! Close the tab! Throw the phone into the ocean! Forget everything you saw! It was a glitch! A spacetime anomaly! A Wanderer attack on my phone! "

You can’t help it. A snort escapes you, followed by a full blown fit of giggles that makes your coworkers glance over in confusion. You quickly type back a single, teasing reply.

You: “The lighting was lovely, Rafayel. Very... evocative.”

The "typing..." bubble appears immediately. It stays there for an agonizingly long time.

Rafayel: “I am literally dying. Bury me in the sand. Don't you dare come to the exhibition. Actually, come. But don't look at me. I'm never leaving my studio again.”

🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧 🫧

The exhibition was a triumph, of course. Rafayel was the star, basking in the praise of the elite, playing the part of the brilliant artist to perfection.

But now, the doors are locked, the lights are dimmed to a soft, amber glow and you aren't looking at his paintings anymore. You’re the centerpiece of a much more private gallery.

You’re perched on the edge of chair, your wrists pulled taut behind your back. He’d used a length of fine, crimson silk to bind them, tight enough to force your shoulders back and arch your spine, thrusting your chest forward, the cool air of the studio grazing your skin, making your nipples harden.

His hand is wrapped around himself, moving with a slow rhythm "You're staring, cutie," a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth "Is the view to your liking?"

You nod, looking up at him, licking your lips.

He lets out a shaky breath, his knuckles white as he grips himself. "I’ve spent my whole life trying to capture beauty on a flat surface. Trying to trap light and shadow and emotion in pigment and oil. But it's never enough. It’s always... static. It doesn't breathe. It doesn't react."

He moves closer, the heat from his body finally making contact with your open thighs. His gaze drops to your breasts, tracing the curve he’s forced you to present to him.

"But you..." He swallows hard, a low groan escaping his lips as he watches the way your chest heaves with every breath. "You are the only masterpiece that matters. I want to treat your skin like my finest silk and use your naked body as my own living canvas..."

He looks almost pained by need, his eyes wide and dark with a hunger that goes far beyond simple lust. He’s not just looking at a lover, he’s looking at his salvation.

"Every blush on your cheeks, every shiver that runs down your spine... that's the only art worth making."

His free hand moves to one of your breasts, thumb sweeping over your nipple with a pressure that is both worshipful and demanding. He watches the way your eyes flutter shut, memorizing the exact shade of your arousal.

"God, you're so beautiful it hurts," he whispers "Tell me you want it," the hand around his cock moves faster "Tell me you'll let me finish my work."

You don't make him wait. You lean forward as much as the silk allows, your voice a breathless rasp. "Fiinish it, Raf. Show me what you can do."

You can’t look away. You wouldn't even if you could.

A bead of translucent precum swells at the very tip of his cock, glistening like a misplaced jewel under the lights. The skin there is flushed a deep, angry rose, pulsing with the force of his arousal. His head is thrown back, his throat exposed and taut as he bites his lower lip to stifle the needy whimpers that threaten to spill from his lips.

He looks beautiful.

He’s close, so painfully close to the edge that you decide to push him. 

Even with your arms bound, you find a way to arch your back further, thrusting your chest toward him in an unspoken invitation. You offer yourself to him, presenting your bare skin as a landing site for his release. "Give it to me. All of it."

The sound of your voice, the invitation in your tone, is the final blow to his crumbling resolve. His body jolts with the force of his release and you watch as the heavy, hot ropes of him arc through the air, splattering across the expanse of your breasts. The heat of it is startling, a wet warmth that makes your skin tingle.

The moment the tension snaps, the strength drains right out of his legs. There is no grace in it just the heavy, unceremonious thud of his knees hitting the floorboards right between your thighs.

He stays there, head bowed, hair falling over his eyes in a dark, damp mess. But then, slowly, so slowly, he lifts his gaze.

His eyes, blown wide and shimmering with liquid heat, find yours at the exact same moment your tongue sweeps out to lick a drop of cum from the corner of your mouth.

When your eyes finally lock, you see the exact second his breath hitches again.

His pupils are so dilated they almost swallow the color of his irises, and a fresh wave of heat, a visible crimson surges up his neck and into his cheeks. He stares at your mouth, watching the way your tongue retreats, his gaze tracing the wet glisten you left behind.

"God..." he groans, the word a broken fragment of a thought "You're going to ruin me completely."

The vibration of your phone against the marble countertop is enough to make you jump. You’ve been nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee for the last twenty minutes, trying to shake off the lingering chill of the Linkon City winter, when the screen lights up with his name.

Sylus

[Sylus]: There’s a private auction tonight. High stakes. It starts in an hour. I’ve been tracking that specific protocore for weeks.

[Sylus] : I’ll send you the catalog link. Take a look. Tell me if the energy readings look as tempting to you as they do to me.

You tap the blue hyperlink, ready to nerd out a little and give him the professional opinion he wants from you.

The video player loads, and you nearly drop your phone.

It isn't a protocore.

It's a VIDEO of a man sprawled across rumpled sheets, his chest heaving as a woman jerks him off. She isn't looking at a camera, she’s looking at him.

The sounds hits you next, the wet friction of her hand, the groans the man lets out, overstimulated.

You bite your lip, a nervous, hysterical little laugh bubbling up in your throat. You can almost see his expression if he knew, that slight, elegant tilt of his head, the way he’d probably pinch the bridge of his nose in a rare moment of genuine embarrassment.

With trembling fingers, you start to type a reply.

You: Sylus... unless this protocore is incredibly well endowed and prone to making loud noises, I think you sent the wrong link.

The silence that follows is agonizing. You stare at the "read" receipt, your thumb hovering over the screen, half expecting the phone to burst into flames from the tension. You’ve spent months navigating his moods, his riddles, and his terrifyingly intense presence, but you’ve never quite known how to handle a moment where the power dynamic shifts so abruptly.

The little bubbles appear. He’s typing.

Is he going to ignore it? Is he going to double down with some devastatingly smooth line that will make you want to crawl under the rug?

A moment later, the notification pings.

Sylus:It seems my finger slipped. Or perhaps my subconscious is simply being more honest than my conscious mind intended.

A few seconds later, another message follows, one that feels much more like the man who watches you sleep with predatory tenderness.

Sylus: I'll be at your door in twenty minutes. Let's not bother with the protocore I think we've found something much more interesting to bid on.

🐦‍⬛ 🐦‍⬛ 🐦‍⬛ 🐦‍⬛ 🐦‍⬛ 🐦‍⬛ 🐦‍⬛ 🐦‍⬛ 🐦‍⬛ 🐦‍⬛ 🐦‍⬛ 🐦‍⬛ 🐦‍⬛ 🐦‍⬛ 🐦‍⬛ 🐦‍⬛

You’ve been at this for thirty minutes and your already obsessed.

There is something intoxicating about the power you hold right now. You never realized that teasing a man like Sylus could be this much of a rush. His entire frame shudders, his muscles coiling like a spring about to snap. He’s right on the edge, his breath hitching and just when you think he’s about to break, you pull away.

Your leg is hooked firmly over one of his heavy thighs, a grounding weight that keeps his legs spread wide for you, exposing him completely to your whims. He’s using his Evol to wrap around his own wrists, binding his hands so he can’t reach out and grab you. He’s forcing himself to endure the torture you’re inflicting, all because he wants this. He wants to feel every second of the ache.

He also looks wrecked. It’s a sight you don't get to see often. Fine beads of sweat are beginning to glisten along his hairline and his eye is glowing a dangerous crimson, tracking your every move.

You lean forward, your hair brushing against his stomach, and as your mouth latches onto one of his nipples he throws his head back against the pillows, his entire body vibrating with the force of his loud groan.

You lift your hand, slowly, dragging your tongue across your entire palm in a long lick just to make him watch, just to make him feel the anticipation. Then, you slide your hand down, finally wrapping your fingers around his cock again.

His eyes roll back into his head when you return your mouth to his nipple, sucking with punishing pressure.

“Please... fuck... Please, kitten. Put me out of my misery.

You feel him tense again, his muscles turning to granite beneath your touch. You stop again.

The sudden absence of your warmth makes him let out a frustrated sound, but you aren't done playing yet. Instead of a full stroke, you just use your five fingers to tease the very tip of him, dragging your fingertips over the sensitive head, over and over again.

“You’ve been so good, Sy,” you coo, your voice a honeyed purr against his skin. “Do you think you deserve to cum?”

“Please, sweetie,” he chokes out. You can see his knuckles turning white as his fingernails dig deep into the palms of his hands “I’ve been... so good...”

He’s lost. The great Sylus, the man who sees everyone's deepest desires, is currently a slave to his own. He probably doesn't even realize he's begging.

"Should I keep you like this all night?" you ask, watching his eyes widen, pupils blown so large they swallow the iris. "It's what you wanted, after all, wasn't it?"

He opens his mouth, the words of a fresh plea already forming on his lips, but you don't give him the chance to speak. Your hand suddenly drops, gripping the thick base of his cock with a firm hold, and you begin to stroke him fast, hard, and relentless.

“I won’t, though,” you whisper, leaning in close so your breath fans over his ear, your voice dripping with a playful, dominant heat. “Because you've been such a good boy.”

The moment the praise leaves your lips, something in him snaps, his entire body arching off the bed in a violent, beautiful spasm.

Even when his muscles quiver with the aftershocks, you keep your hand moving, stroking him to overstimulation, pushing him right past the edge of pleasure.

The energy bindings that were holding his wrists apart simply vanish, dissolving into thin air when his willpower finally snaps.

The air is knocked from your lungs as your back hits the mattress with a soft thud, and suddenly, the man who was just begging is the man who is commanding.

He’s over you, his large hands pinning your wrists to the pillows on either side of your head.

"You think you're so clever, don't you?" his nose brushes against yours, his breath smelling faintly of the cherry wine he loves so much. "Playing with me like a toy. Testing how much a man can take before he loses his mind."

His heavy, still sensitive cock slides between your thighs, a blunt reminder of exactly how much you just put him through. He looks absolutely lethal.

"You've had your fun, kitten," he murmurs, his grip on your wrists tightening just enough to let you know he's in total control now. "Now its my turn to see just how much you can take."

Zayne had been obsessing over that new bakery just a few blocks from your place, the kind of place that smells like heaven and costs way too much. He was mid text, rambling about the sourdough starter and the specific crumb structure of their croissants (of course he was), but he mentioned he’d send over the full menu link so you could decide on a weekend treat.

"Wait, let me send the link. They have a seasonal pastry list you'll love"

LINK

You tapped the blue link eagerly, expecting pictures of glazed danishes or maybe a list of gluten free muffins.

It was not a muffin.

It was a very loud, very explicit video of a man wrecking a woman with backshots, pulling out only for her to rip the condom off his cock so he could fuck her raw.

You: Zayne, there are no pastries in that link! There is only... a man. And a girl. And a very missing condom!

Zayne: ...

Zayne: Oh.

You: “Oh”? That’s all? You just sent me a full blown porn video in the middle of the afternoon!

Zayne: Stop. Please. I am currently in the middle of a ward round. A nurse just tried to look at my phone.

You: [Sends a laughing emoji]

Zayne: I'm coming over later. We are going to that bakery. And we are not talking about that "menu" until we have had at least two espressos. To settle my nerves.

You: Are you bringing the condom? Just kidding! Don't kill me!

Zayne: 🙄

🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺

The bakery was a lost cause. The sourdough was forgotten, the espresso was unbrewed, and the only thing "rising" in your apartment was Zayne's cock the moment he walked in and saw the way you were looking at him, flushed, eyes hazy, and, quite frankly, a mess.

Now, you were bent over the edge of your bed, your fingers digging into the mattress as he held you from behind.

"Zaynie, please!" you whimpered, your voice cracking. You were desperate, begging him to just stop being so careful, to just let go and give you what that video had promised. "Just... Take it off, Please!"

His hands gripped your hips with a strength that promised bruises. "Just because you’re on the pill doesn't mean the statistical probability of a mishap is zero. It’s... fuck... it's about risk management."

"Even in a committed relationship," he continued, his words punctuated by the rhythmic, wet slap of skin on skin, "one must account for... ah, god... hormonal fluctuations and the ... the unpredictability of the human reproductive system. It's not just about pregnancy, it's about...shit...it's about hygiene, and the prevention of... of unnecessary... fuck, you feel so good."

He was losing it. The doctor was losing the battle against the man. He was supposed to be lecturing you on biological safeguards, but the way he was cursing under his breath low, dirty words that he’d never say in the hospital halls told a different story.

"You're being... so difficult," he groaned, his fingers moving to your waist, pulling you back harder against him. "Trying to... to bypass all the... damn it... the precautions. Do you have any idea what you're doing to my concentration?."

He leaned forward, his teeth grazing the nape of your neck, his voice dropping to a commanding whisper. "Stay still. Let me... let me take care of this properly. Fuck, if you keep making those sounds, the condom is going to be the least of our worries."

"Who cares about the... the statistics, Zayne!" you gasped, your forehead pressed against the cool sheets. "Just... fuck, just give it to me! It’s just us, isn't it?

You were rambling, throwing out half baked excuses about how you will feel "more connected" or how the latex was a "distracting from the sensory input" basically using his own medical vocabulary against him just to get what you wanted. You were cursing, too, your language losing all its usual politeness as the friction and the heat drove you toward a breaking point.

Then, suddenly, the fullness vanished.

"Why did you stop?" you demanded, your voice small and wounded, eyes searching his. "Zayne, why did you... "

He was hovering over you, his chest heaving, his hair mussed in a way that was entirely uncharacteristic of the composed man you knew. He looked down at you with an expression that was almost exasperated, that specific, "are you actually serious right now?" look he gave you when you forgot your keys or ignored his health advice.

He didn't need to say the words. You lunged for it, your fingers trembling as you gripped him, ripping the condom off.

The moment he slid back into you, skin on skin, the sensation was nothing short of transcendental.

" Fuck!" you breathed out.

"God, finally," he growled back.

The sight of your cunt clinging to his cock was enough to shatter even the most disciplined mind. Zayne, the man who could maintain a steady hand while repairing a human heart, lost his grip on reality. The friction, the warmth, and the intimacy of being inside you without any barrier sent him over the edge far faster than he ever thought possible.

He stiffened and with a few deep thrusts that felt like they were reaching your throat he broke. A sound between a moan and a curse escaped him as he collapsed against you, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your neck.

When he pulled out Zayne wasn't looking at your face. He was staring, almost hypnotically, downward. His gaze was fixed on the junction of your thighs, watching with a quiet, intense fascination as the evidence of his release, thick and pearly, slowly leaked from your plump pussy, tracing a slow path down your skin. He looked mesmerized.

"You know," you said, voice dripping with playful sarcasm, "for a man so obsessed with 'risk management' and 'preventative measures'..." You paused looking at his flushed face. "Your breeding kink is really showing, Doctor."

holding back a scoff, you defend what’s yours. “he said he’d tone down the violence, okay? he’s lived this life for so long—you can’t expect him to change instantly. we’re taking baby steps here.” 

“please tell me what baby is into sports cars and shootouts.”

mine is! you almost answer. but you keep it to yourself. 

sylus is so cute. 

“come on. at the very least, you have to admit that he’s trying. no bombs, no fires—wouldn’t you call that an improvement from before?” you sigh. sylus is so noble. “sounds like growth to me.”

“one of the cars chasing him just crashed into the median barrier. the screen went black,” she narrates flatly. 

“well, they were probably getting too close to injuring civilians, and he put a stop to it.” he always does. “he hates when the innocent are collateral, you know. he told me that last week.” 

her voice, shrill and incredulous, crackles over the line. “last week? i thought you two were still on  break last week. you know, until he swore to stop dragging you into his markedly less-than-legal schemes.”

“he took me to dinner,” you sigh dreamily. “and he bought me an apology necklace.” sylus is so kind. 

for a second, she’s quiet. “and you just accepted tha—”

buzz! buzz!

“can you hang on a second?” you rush, trying to mask your excitement. “i’m getting another call.”

“mm-hmm, go ahead. i’m taking bets on how much of the city will be left when you get back.” 

in one ear, out the other. as you greet the new caller, all you can focus on is that rich, baritone voice flooding your senses once again. 

“sweetie?” sylus says. you hear the faint squeak of overworked tires in the background. a squeak, not a squeal, you note, warmth fluttering in your heart.

he must be going the speed limit. 

 “i’ll be home soon,” he continues, “but i wanted to pick up a gift for you on the way. you still like lilies, right?”

“mm-hmm!” you chirp. “they’re my favorite.” oh, how he spoils you. 

“i thought so,” he chuckles lightly, the sound soaring over flurries of piercing, thunderous cracks. the final round is the loudest, and then, they stop altogether. “get a vase ready, then. i’ll see you soon.”

“see you soon,” you echo, missing him already. 

when you hang up, you redial your friend’s number. “hey, you still there?”

“yup,” she answers, popping the p. “the news feed cut back on. the car in front just drove through a flower stall.” 

for the first time since the last time, your blood runs cold. “was anyone hurt?”

“no. the reporters said it’s conveniently closed today.”

“oh, well…that’s a relief.” with a hand to your chest and a grin on your lips, you imagine the bouquet of semi-charred lilies you'll see when he gets home. you’ll find the beauty in their imperfections, just like you do with sylus. 

sylus, you think, drifting into space again.