Delelued♡Reality

hunts always ended in different ways.

sometimes going back to the motel or bunker to shower and relax, going to the closest diner to eat, share some pie. other times you’d go out for drinks, spend a little time at the local bar.

every time, it would be you, dean and sam. just the three of you. often just you and dean at times when you wanted to be alone together.

it wasn’t often that you’d work a case with other hunters. maybe some old friends that sam or dean knew, people they’d worked with before, some that john knew before he passed.

while working the case, you’d stick with dean, pair off with him, do research and questioning with him. you weren’t all that fond of being around people you didn’t know, especially other guys. dean always understood that, made sure you were comfortable the whole time.

the hunt was fine, you didn’t mind that much. it didn’t even bother you when you had some lengthy discussions with one of the other hunters.

when it did start bothering you? one of the guys suggesting going out for drinks. knowing a bar that hunters often went to was close by. of course you’d all said yes, even though you knew it might not be your favourite way to settle down after a hunt.

it started off with everyone getting drinks, sat together to talk over the hunt, some teasing here and there for different techniques. until slowly a few would break off, have smaller talks.

first, was a few of the other hunters, then sam got up, going to talk to the guy he’d worked with on research for part of today. you thought you’d get some time with dean finally, until one of the guys called him over from across the bar.

“will you be alright for a couple minutes, sweetheart?” dean looked to you, saw you glancing over to the hunter. “or you can come over too.”

a shake of your head, “you go ahead,” you smile. “i’ll stay here. just me and my cocktail will be just fine.”

dean chuckled softly as he stood, leaning to kiss your cheek before heading to the bar. he’d been sipping on a beer, taking it with him as you saw him sitting down, already getting to chatting.

the lead hunter of the group went over shortly, starting a longer conversation. you were okay on your own, thinking you’d have some peace for a while. until one of the girls you’d worked with earlier in the day plopped onto the seat opposite you.

“nice work today,” she began, then motioning over to dean at the bar. “you two make a good team.”

“thanks,” a short but friendly reply. “big group you got going on.”

you looked around, feeling like half the bar was taken up just with them. it was different to you, dean and sam. with the addition of castiel being around sometimes. you functioned better in a small group.

“it works,” she shrugged. “we all have our place, what we do best, you know?”

you brought your drink up to your lips again, taking a bigger gulp as another joined you, this time sitting beside you. you sucked in a long breath, eyeing dean still talking. thinking you should’ve opted to go back to your motel room.

it wasn’t long before the conversations got flowing, starting off with you talking a little, and it got less and less as the night went on. maybe feeling a little drained, battery run out, too many people when usually you’d be curled up in dean’s arms by now.

instinctively, you reached for your necklace. something you often did without thinking, any time you were uncomfortable in a situation. moved the pendant back and forth, fiddled with it in your palm, it helped you to calm down.

the necklace being a gift from dean helped a lot. he got it a while back, something he thought you might like. a little heart on a silver chain, one you almost never took off now.

you would’ve stayed distracted, calming down, if your phone hadn’t buzzed in your pocket.

unsure of who would be texting you, since you could see sam across the room, dean was at the bar…

you pulled your phone from your pocket, switching on the front screen to see a notification from none other than dean. your brows furrowed, clicking his name to check the text.

dean: do you wanna leave?

oblivious, you didn’t know why he was asking. you glanced to him, saw he was talking again. under the bar, his phone was resting on his thigh, his hand over it as if waiting to feel the vibration of a notification.

you replied back,

no we can stay longer if you want

watching as he placed his beer down, turned his attention to his phone screen for a minute. you looked away again, sipping on your drink once more while zoning in and out of the conversation at your table.

dean: you’re sure?

you cleared your throat, smiling at sam as he walked past to head to the bathroom, one of the girls asking you a quick question. something about what bullets you’d used on the hunt today, to which you gave a fast answer.

then you quickly replied to dean again,

yea, why wouldn’t i be

turning off your phone this time, you expected him to carry on, probably get another drink, engage further into these lore conversations that seemed to be going on.

when, again, another vibration from your pocket.

dean: you’re fiddling with your necklace

you lifted your gaze to him again, he gave a quick look, small wave. then you sent an immediate reply with a slight frown.

how on earth could you have noticed that from over there

not that you saw, but a small smile grew on dean’s face as he read your reply. you’d been together for long enough that he knew your tells, knew what you did when you were uncomfortable. knew when he needed to get you out of there even if you didn’t say it yourself.

dean: you’re the only thing i notice sweetheart

before you had time to reply, you felt a hand on your shoulder, causing you to look up. right there, dean stood behind your chair, squeezing your shoulders gently as he leaned forwards.

“i don’t mean to interrupt, ladies,” he gave a nod towards them. “it’s getting a little late, think we should head out.”

nobody minding at all, dean took your hand, helping you to get up and out of your chair, seeing sam waiting at the door once you were standing.

leading the way, dean’s hand your back as you waked towards the impala, he unlocked it, sam getting in first. leaving time for you and dean to stand back for a moment.

“how you feeling?” dean asked, gentle palm cupping your cheek as if to check you over. “anything you need?”

a head shake, “i’m fine, dean, really.”

he grumbled slightly, “you’re stubborn, you know that?” your brow furrowed. “you’re overwhelmed, you’re still fiddling.”

that’s when your hand stopped, realising you had reached for your necklace again without even knowing it. not until dean pointed it out. you closed your eyes, sighing.

“it’s okay if you are, baby, this was a little out of your comfort zone, huh?” he stepped closer, taking your hand in his instead. “we can go back to the motel, or drop sammy off and get pie. just the two of us, like it usually is.”

you thought for a minute, looking to the ground first, to where you could see sam in the car, then back to dean. seeing his eyes shining in the light, how he just wanted to make sure you were okay before going anywhere.

how he always knew how you were feeling was beyond you. he seemed to notice it before you did yourself these days.

“maybe pie,” you mumbled.

“yea?” dean’s lips ever so gently curved into a smile. “we can get pie.”

you nodded, smiling softly as you let yourself fall against him. his arms wrapping around you in an instant. he felt as your fingers gripped onto his shirt, letting you release just a touch of the tension you were feeling.

“it’s okay, sweetheart, i’ve got you,” he kissed the top of your hair, rocking you back and forth to add to the comfort he knew you needed.

“love you, de,” you mumbled into his chest, blushing softly. something you still always did.

dean moved back just an inch, holding your chin between thumb and index finger to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

“love you too, sweetheart,” he moved back after, opening up the passenger side door for you. “now let’s go get some pie, hm?”

a slow nod, you climbed into the car, smiling back at sam, where he often was since dean wanted you to be up front. dean got in right after, starting up the impala to leave the busy bar, ready to end the night on a calm and quiet note with pie.

if it hadn’t been for the embarrassed, rosy flush of his cheeks after he’d briefly side-eyed you with a scowl you happily ignored, you would’ve thought he hadn’t heard you.

“no, i just have these stupid things on my face for fun,” he grumbles, the side of his head listlessly dropping against the heel of his hand, spiky hair flopping with it as he looks to the front of the room. “yes, i wear glasses.”

you laugh at that and his brows pin together in confusion, earning you another side glance. he usually regrets almost everything he says right after it’s spoken. always thinks he sounds dumb when he talks. but you must think he’s the funniest guy on earth with how much you giggle at all of his poker-faced responses and now he’s second guessing himself.

you’re fully leaned over into his space now, head wafting around to try and get a better look at him, so much so that he can smell your perfume. vanilla and something warm. he accidentally glances at the slight spill of your cleavage in your low cut top and lets it linger there for just a second (or two or three) before he quickly looks elsewhere. he doesn’t even think you realize that your chest is pressed up against his tensed arm because surely you would’ve moved if you had. right?

“they’re so cute on you! lemme see,”

then you’re reaching over and grabbing his chin and turning him back to face you like it’s the most normal thing on earth. your touch interrupts his thoughts completely, and now his head is just blank aside from one thought— is this how you act with everyone or is this just how you act with him?

his face is redder now, tips of his ears to match and your smile bigger while you examine him, eyes scouring every inch of his hardened face to drink the new look in until they land on his dark, indecipherable stare. he thinks you’re pretty and really wishes you’d back up a little bit.

“i like them.” you hum sweetly.

“i hate them.” he retorts moodily, lashes fluttering as he gently moves your hand away from his face by your wrist.

“you should wear them more often.”

“okay.”

he grabs his contacts from the pharmacy once class is out—just like he’d planned. but when presented with the option while getting ready the next morning, he reaches for his glasses case and slips them on anyway. huh.

.

.

.

© plumkissed 2026

The next thing you know, everything is gone.

Sylus notices when you do not answer.

At first, he assumes you are resting. You had mentioned the mission. He knows how those go.

He gives you time. Then some more time.

By the end of the first day, his messages go from casual to pointed.

Report in.

You are ignoring me.

Kitten.

No response.

He does not like that.

By the second day, he stops pretending it does not matter. So, he does the only reasonable thing, and goes over to your place.

Your place is quiet when he arrives.

Too quiet.

He steps inside, eyes assessing the space quickly.

Nothing is disturbed. No signs of struggle. No danger.

Just stillness.

He finds you in your bedroom.

Curled into the sheets, breathing slow and deep, completely unmoving.

For a second, something tightens in his chest.

He crosses the room quickly, sitting on the edge of the bed, fingers brushing against your wrist. Checking.

Your pulse is steady.

He exhales, a weight falls off him.

“Unbelievable. You sleep for two days and expect me not to notice.”

You do not stir, his voice is low.

Sylus studies you for a moment longer. Your body slacks with a kind of exhaustion that goes beyond simple tiredness.

He knows this look, because he has done this many times.

You pushed too far.

His thumb brushes lightly over your wrist, calming himself that you are there, alive. You are just tired.

“Reckless,” he adds quietly.

He stands after a moment, adjusting the blanket over you before leaving the room.

The kitchen feels too empty.

He moves through it as if he belongs there, sleeves rolled up, hands steady. He chooses something simple. Something you will actually eat when you wake up. Nothing heavy, nothing complicated.

The quiet is now filled with sounds.

Water running. A pan heating. The rhythm of something being made with care. He hums as he moves through your place.

He checks on you twice.

You do not wake up just yet.

When you finally do wake up, hunger hits first.

You groan softly, pushing yourself upright, head still heavy but clearer than before. The room feels different. Not wrong. Just… occupied.

Then you smell it.

Food.

Real food. And it smells good.

You blink, confused, and force yourself out of bed.

The kitchen light is on and Sylus is sitting at the table, phone in hand, scrolling like he has nowhere else to be.

You stop in the doorway.

“You are in my house.”

He does not even look up.

“You are awake.”

“I could call this breaking and entering.”

“You could try.”

You roll your eyes, stepping further in. Then you see the table.

Plates. Food. Warm. Fresh.

You stare at it, then at him.

“You cooked?”

He finally glances up, expression calm, almost bored.

“Do not sound so surprised.”

“I am surprised.”

“You should eat. Before you pass out again.”

You sit slowly, still processing, and pick up the fork. The first bite is almost embarrassing in its sheer goodness.

“Oh,” you mumble, already reaching for more. “That is unfair.”

“I know what you like.”

“Yes, but you did not have to…”

He cuts you off lightly.

“You were unconscious for two days.”

You freeze mid bite.

“Two days?”

“Yes.”

“That explains a lot.”

“It explains your poor decision-making,” he corrects.

You glance at him, narrowing your eyes slightly.

“You were worried.”

“No.”

“You came over.”

“I was in the area.”

“You cooked.”

“You needed food.”

You smile faintly, shaking your head as you take another bite.

“You were worried.”

He exhales slowly, clearly unimpressed with your persistence.

“You were unavailable. That is inconvenient.”

“Kitten was not answering her messages,” you add sweetly.

“Do not start.”

You grin.

The silence that follows is comfortable.

You eat, and he watches without making it obvious, attention flicking back to his phone every so often like he needs the distraction.

“So,” he says after a moment, “the mission.”

You lean back slightly, sighing.

“Long. Annoying. Too many moving parts.”

“And you decided to handle all of it yourself.”

“I handled it well.”

“You handled it recklessly.”

You tilt your head.

“It worked.”

“That is not the point.”

You study him for a second, softer now.

“You always do this.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend you are annoyed when you are actually worried.”

“I am not worried.”

“You checked my pulse.”

He goes very still for half a second. You raise a brow.

“…Habit,” he says finally.

You laugh quietly, warmth spreading through your chest that has nothing to do with the food.

“Thank you,” you say, more serious now. “For this.”

He looks at you then, properly.

“It is nothing.”

“It is not nothing.”

“It is basic care,” he replies. “You should try it sometime.”

You smile.

“I am trying now.”

That seems to satisfy him.

You finish eating, leaning back with a long sigh.

“I feel human again.”

“You looked worse than human,” he says dryly.

“Charming.”

“I am known for it.”

You watch him for a moment, something gentle in your expression.

“You stayed.”

He does not hesitate.

“Of course.”

You nod slowly.

“Next time,” he adds, standing up and reaching for the plates, “you inform me before you decide to collapse for two days.”

“Yes, sir.”

He pauses, glancing at you with a hint of a smirk.

“Careful.”

You grin.

The kitchen fills with the sound of him cleaning up, and for the first time since the mission ended, everything feels steady again.

And you know, even if he will never say it, he will always come when you need him.

By the time you make it back, your vision is blurred, your side aches with every breath you take, and something warm is soaking your clothes. You ignore it. You always do. 

You just need to sit down. Just for a second. 

The door barely shuts behind you before your knees give out. 

Zayne was not supposed to be there when you got back. 

He told himself he was only stopping by briefly. He needed to know you were back and nothing more. 

That is what he tells himself as he unlocks your door. 

Then he sees you. On the floor. Not moving. 

Everything in him goes still. 

Then his doctor senses come in full force. 

He is at your side instantly, checking your pulse, your breathing, the source of the blood. His movements are sharp, efficient, but there is something else. 

“What were you thinking?” he asks, voice low but tight in a way you have never heard before. Your eyes open slightly.  

“Zayne…?” 

“Do not speak. You are losing blood.” 

“I am fine,” you mumble weakly. 

“You are not fine.” 

There is no softness in his voice, only fear. Fear he tries to hide for irritation but fails almost immediately.  

He lifts you carefully, carrying you to the couch. His hands are steady, but his jaw is tight, and his eyes... his eyes cannot pretend. 

“This was absolutely reckless. You pushed beyond your limit again.” 

You wince slightly as he presses against the wound.  

“It was handled.” 

“That is not the point.” 

“It worked.” 

“That is not the point,” he repeats, sharper this time. 

You go quiet, because you have never heard him like this. 

He works quickly, cleaning, stitching, and bandaging with precision. The pain disappears almost entirely under his care, your body slowly giving in to exhaustion. 

Then, just for a moment, his fingers stop and he exhales. And something in him finally cracks. 

“You could have died,” he says quietly. 

The anger is gone. What is left is worse. Pain. So much pain in his voice.  

You look at him, and see exactly just that. Pain and fear.  

“I did not,” you say softly. 

“That is not reassuring.” 

“I am here.” 

“For now.” 

The words land heavier than anything he said before. You move slightly, reaching out to touch his wrist. 

He freezes. 

“You are angry,” you say. 

“Yes.” 

“But not really.” 

He closes his eyes briefly, like he is deciding something. 

“No,” he admits. “Not really.” 

“You were worried.” 

His eyes meets yours. There it is, all in his beautiful eyes. Worry. The fear of losing you.  

“You should not put yourself in situations like that. Not without support. Not without telling me.” 

“Telling you?” you repeat gently. 

“Yes.” 

“You care.” 

“That is not new.” 

“No, but you do not usually say it.” 

“I prefer when it is understood.” He exhales slowly, some of the tension leaving him at last. 

“It is, but sometimes it is nice to hear.” 

There is a moment of silence before he speaks again.  

"Do not do that again.” 

“I will try,” you say. 

“That is not enough.” 

You laugh weakly.  

“That is the best you are getting right now.” 

His lips twitch, just slightly, almost a smile.  

“Rest,” he says, adjusting the blanket around you. “You need it.” 

You watch him as he moves, slower now, calmer again. The storm has passed, but something has changed. 

You saw it and he knows you did. 

“Zayne,” you murmur. 

He pauses, glancing back at you. 

“Thank you.” 

He nods once. Then, after a brief hesitation, he pulls a chair closer and sits. 

He does not leave, when you wake up he is there, eyes moving in between you and the screen of his phone.

When you wake up you feel a lot better.

"I cooked." he announces and you suddenly realise, you are indeed very hungry.

You got up and headed to the table with him, he did cook. And it all looked very delicious.

"Thank you for the food." you said as you sat down and began to eat. "Won't you join me?"

"I ate before I got here. This is all for you." he replied but he did sit down in front of you.

"All of it? That's too much!"

"The intention was to have some left overs so you can eat them tomorrow."

You simply nodded before continued eating in silence.

Later that night, when he joined you in bed, you were already asleep. You fell asleep while he showered just as he expected.

But, now all he could do is stare at you, as if he stopped you would stop breathing.

"Don't ever do that again, please. I cannot lose you." he swallowed before fully laying down, he pulled you into his chest.

It was as if a memory wanted to emerge, a very painful memory, but he could only feel the pain and the sadness.

Then, he looked down at you and calmed down.

His real arm is wrapped firmly around your shoulders, fingers absentmindedly tracing slow lines along your sleeve.

His mechanical arm rests stiffly at his other side.

Not touching you.

Not even close.

You glance down at it. The metal catches the light from the lamp.

Sleek. Polished. Strong.

The faint hum of internal mechanisms is barely audible when he moves.

It looks like it belongs to a warrior.

It looks like it does not belong near something fragile.

You tilt your chin up.

“Caleb.”

He hums softly.

“Yeah?”

“Why are you sitting like that?”

He doesn’t look at you.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m going to break if you move an inch.”

His fingers pause on your arm.

You gently reach across his body and take hold of his mechanical wrist.

The reaction is immediate.

His muscles tense. He pulls his arm back before you can guide it anywhere.

“Don’t,” he says quietly.

You blink.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t do that.”

His tone is not sharp, not angry. It's a warning.

You sit up a little, facing him now.

“Caleb. It’s fine.”

“It’s not.” His gaze flickers down to the metal limb. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

“You don’t know that. I don't know that.”

You lean closer.

“It’s not going to crush me.”

He gives you a look, his beautiful eyes are filled with pain.

“You have no idea what this thing can do.”

His words are filled with fear.

And it hurt you because that is fear for you. His fear.

You reach for his mechanical hand again, slower this time. You let your fingers wrap around the cool metal. The surface is smooth. It is strong. Unyielding.

He does not pull away this time, but his jaw tightens.

“I don’t like it touching you,” he murmurs.

“Why?”

He exhales slowly.

“Because you deserve something warm. It's cold.”

You slide closer, pressing your forehead to his.

“It is warm.”

“It isn’t.”

“It is, because it’s yours.”

His eyes finally meet yours.

There is something raw there. Something he has been holding back.

You lift his metal hand and guide it toward your cheek.

He resists.

“Don’t, please.” he repeats, softer now.

“It’s okay,” you whisper. You wanted to show him, prove it to him, that it was okay.

The cool metal brushes your skin.

You don’t flinch.

You lean into it. His breath catches.

“See? I’m not breaking.”

His voice drops.

“I lost it, you know.”

You still.

He does not often speak about that day.

“I know,” you say gently.

“I woke up, and it was gone.” His eyes unfocus slightly, like he is somewhere else. “And the first thing I thought was not the pain. Not the blood. It was you. I thought… how am I supposed to come back to you like this?”

“Caleb…” you feel like crying. But you hold back, he was hurting enough. He doesn't need to see you cry.

“I kept thinking you would look at me and see what I lost. Not what I survived.”

You press your lips to the back of his metal knuckles.

He goes completely still.

“I would have looked at you and seen that you fought your way back to me.”

He shakes his head.

“It was bad. After. Learning how to move again. Learning how to fight again. People staring at it like I wasn’t whole anymore. I became a machine, but I learned how to live without a part of myself.”

His eyes search yours.

“I don’t know how to live without you.”

The confession lands between you like something sacred.

You move his mechanical hand down, pressing it gently to your neck, your pulse fluttering beneath cool metal.

“Feel that?” you whisper. “That’s because you’re here.”

His fingers twitch slightly, adjusting carefully, as if he is afraid to apply pressure.

You guide his hand lower, to your waist. “You came back. That’s what matters.”

He swallows hard. “It still feels wrong.”

You smile softly. “Then let’s make it feel right.”

You lace your fingers between the metal ones and bring them to your lips, kissing each knuckle slowly. Deliberately.

His breathing turns uneven.

“This is you,” you tell him. “All of you. And I love you. Not in pieces. Not in parts.”

His real arm tightens around you suddenly, pulling you against his chest. His forehead drops to your shoulder.

For a moment, he just holds you there.

Then, very carefully, his mechanical arm slides around your waist.

Fully.

It is strong. Protective. Steady.

You relax into it without hesitation.

He freezes at first, waiting for you to react.

You only melt closer.

“See?” you murmur sleepily. “Perfect.”

He lets out a shaky breath against your hair.

Time passes quietly after that. The room grows dimmer. Your body grows heavier against him.

You do not remember the exact moment sleep takes you.

But Caleb does.

He watches your breathing even out. Feels the warmth of you pressed against his chest. Feels the steady rise and fall of your body within the circle of both his arms.

He hesitates for only a second.

Then he adjusts his mechanical hand slightly, pulling you impossibly closer.

Secure.

Safe.

His chin rests against the top of your head.

The metal does not feel cold anymore.

It feels like protection.

Like something earned.

He presses a soft kiss into your hair.

“I’m not letting go again,” he whispers.

And for the first time since he lost that part of himself, Caleb closes his eyes without fear.

The lights are dim. He can see the bedside lap is on, the door to the bedroom is open slightly. The warm light makes him calm.

Home.

You’re already asleep.

He can tell before he even reaches the doorway. The quiet rhythm of your breathing fills the space, soft and steady. You’re curled under the blankets, one arm tucked under the pillow, the other resting on the bed where he should be sleeping.

He leans against the doorframe for a second, just watching.

There is something about seeing you like this that steadies him more than anything else ever could.

“You waited up again, didn’t you?” he murmurs, though he knows you cannot answer.

His voice is quiet not to wake you.

His jacket comes off first, draped over the chair. Then his boots.

He tries to be as quiet as possible. The last thing he wants is to wake you. You look too comfortable like this. He runs a hand over his face, exhaling softly, and then he goes into the bathroom.

The sound of the shower is helps him fully relax. Steam fills the small space as he stands under the water, letting it wash away the dirt of the day. The noise. The tension. The things he does not bring home with him.

He rests his forehead briefly against the tile, eyes closed, he takes a deep breath, then, he turns the water off.

When he steps back into the bedroom, everything is the same. You haven’t moved much. Just shifted slightly deeper into the blankets, your face is half buried now.

“Still out,” he whispers with a smile on his lips.

He dries his hair with a towel, changes quietly, and finally, lies in bed beside you.

The mattress dips under his weight.

You stir a little. A soft, sleepy sound leaves you, but you don’t wake.

“Sorry,” he murmurs instinctively, even though you are not really awake to hear it.

He settles onto his back, one arm behind his head, staring up at the ceiling for a moment.

Then he turns his head slightly toward you.

There is a pause, and then, softly, he starts talking.

“Long day,” he says under his breath. “Everything that could go wrong kind of did. They had me running all over the place. Didn’t get a break until late. You would have told me to sit down and drink some water.”

His fingers drift over the blanket near you, not quite touching yet.

“I did, by the way. Eventually.”

A small pause.

“I thought about you a lot today. Kept thinking about getting back here. To you.”

As if drawn by the sound of him, you move. Slowly, your body turns toward him, and your hand finds his chest.

He goes still immediately.

“Hey,” he whispers.

You make a quiet sound, something halfway between a sigh and a hum, and then you move closer.

Half asleep. Not fully aware, just reaching for him.

You press your face into his chest, your arm sliding across his torso as you settle there where you belong. His hand hovers for a moment before it comes down gently against your back.

“You’re awake?” he asks softly.

You shake your head slightly against him.

“No,” you mumble, voice thick with sleep.

He lets out the quietest breath of a laugh.

“Yeah. Thought so.”

You nuzzle closer anyway.

He shifts just enough to make it easier for you, his arm sliding more securely around you, pulling you against him. Your breathing evens out again almost immediately. But he keeps talking.

“I missed you,” he admits, barely above a whisper.

His fingers trace slow, absent patterns against your back.

“Everything’s just… easier when you’re here.”

You make another soft sound, your hand curling slightly against his shirt.

“I know you can’t hear half of this,” he murmurs, voice softer still, “but I like saying it anyway.”

He tilts his head, resting it lightly against yours.

“You make it feel like I can come back from anything.”

Silence settles again.

Comfortable. Warm.

Your weight against him is grounding in a way nothing else is.

His eyes grow heavier.

But his hand keeps moving, slow and gentle, like he is afraid to stop.

“Get some sleep,” he whispers, more to himself than to you.

You breathe in softly, your fingers tightening just a little where they rest against him.

And that is enough.

His arm tightens around you just slightly.

Protective. Certain.

Caleb presses his cheek against the top of your head, eyes finally closing as the last of the day slips away from him.

He falls asleep with your weight on his chest.

With your breathing steady against him.

With the quiet certainty that no matter how the day goes, this is where he ends up.

With you.

Caleb doesn’t even realise how much you like his back at first.  

To him, it’s just… normal. Scars, muscle, strength. Nothing special. 

Until one day your fingers drag slowly down his spine and he freezes. 

The first time you do it properly, he’s sitting in front of you, shirt half off, and your nails lightly scratch down his back. 

He goes completely still. Shoulders tightening. Breath catching just slightly. 

“…What are you doing?” 

You don’t even answer. You just do it again. Slower this time. 

And he exhales through his nose, low and controlled, like he’s trying very hard not to react. 

He starts noticing it after that. 

Every time you’re behind him, your hands find his back.  

Tracing. Scratching lightly. Resting there like you belong there. 

It starts to get to him. 

If you kiss his back? He’s done for. 

He won’t move at first, but his head will dip forward slightly, jaw tightening. 

“…You’re doing that on purpose.” 

You are. 

The first time you bite him, even lightly, he reacts. 

A sharp inhale. His hand immediately reaching back to grab your wrist, not to stop you, just to ground himself. 

He almost looses himself 

“Careful.” 

He says that, but he doesn’t pull you away. 

He tries to act unaffected. He really does. 

But his back arches slightly into your touch when you scratch him just right, and that completely gives him away. 

If you run your nails down slowly, especially along his spine? 

He will close his eyes.  

Actually close his eyes and tilt his head forward like he’s bracing himself. 

“…Don’t start something you won’t finish.” 

He’s not even saying it as a threat. It’s a warning. A very quiet one. 

He gets more sensitive the longer you keep doing it. 

What starts as him being tense turns into him leaning back into you, like his body is learning to seek your touch. 

If you press soft kisses between his shoulder blades while your fingers drag down his back? 

Yeah. That’s when he turns around. 

His expression darker, heavier. 

“You like this, don’t you,” he murmurs, voice lower than usual. 

And the thing is… after that, he starts letting you. 

He’ll sit with his back to you on purpose sometimes. Shirt slightly pushed up. Not saying a word. 

An invitation. 

When he’s had a long day, your hands on his back are one of the fastest ways to get him to relax. 

The tension just melts out of him under your touch, even if he won’t admit it out loud. 

But if you go a little too far, scratch a little too slow, kiss a little too long… 

He will catch your hand. 

Pull you closer. 

Caleb might let you tease him… 

He Treats Marriage Like a Promise He Intends to Keep Forever 

Zayne does not take vows lightly 

Marriage to him is permanent in every possible sense 

When he married you, something in him settled. 

You are not temporary to him anymore. 

Not uncertain. 

Not “maybe.” 

You are his family. 

And he treats you accordingly. 

He Wears His Wedding Ring Constantly 

Rarely removes it 

Turns it absentmindedly while thinking 

Sometimes touches it during stressful moments without noticing 

If someone asks about it? 

His expression softens almost imperceptibly. 

“Yes,” he says simply. “I am married.” 

And the quiet pride in his voice makes your chest ache every time. 

Husband Zayne Is Extremely Attentive 

You never have to ask twice for anything. 

Not because he thinks you cannot do things yourself. 

Because he notices before you ask. 

And then, you don't even have to ask once.

Your tea already made 

Your side of the bed warmed up 

Medicine on the counter before you realise you are getting sick 

Your charger brought to you because he noticed the battery percentage earlier 

He loves through observation. 

He Is Softer at Home 

The difference is honestly shocking. 

Outside: 

composed 

reserved 

professional 

At home: 

quieter 

gentler 

visibly more relaxed around you 

His guard lowers in pieces only you get to see. 

He Loves Coming Home to You 

This is a huge one. 

No matter how exhausting his day was, the moment he sees you? 

Something in him eases. 

You can literally watch the tension leave his shoulders. 

Especially if you greet him softly. 

Especially if you touch him first. 

Domestic Habits He Develops 

Makes your coffee/tea automatically 

Keeps your favourite snacks stocked 

Checks the weather before you leave 

Reminds you to take breaks 

Fixes things around the house immediately 

You mention something once. 

It gets handled. 

He Is Protective in a Husband Way 

Not possessive. 

Protective. 

Walking slightly behind you in crowded places 

Guiding you with a hand at your back 

Pulling you closer if he thinks something is unsafe 

And if you are sick or injured? 

Oh, absolutely not. 

You are not lifting a finger if he can help it. 

He Loves Physical Affection 

He acts composed about it. 

But this man adores: 

your head on his shoulder 

your hand in his 

you curling against him in bed 

absentminded touches while passing each other 

He especially likes when you initiate affection. 

He never asks for it directly. 

But he melts every time. 

Sleeping Beside Him 

Warm 

Stable 

Safe 

Zayne sleeps lighter than people think, so: 

if you move suddenly, he wakes 

if you seem cold, he adjusts the blanket 

if you are restless, his hand finds you automatically 

Half asleep, he is very affectionate. 

More than he realises. 

He Is Quietly Romantic 

Not flashy romance. 

Intentional romance. 

Things like: 

remembering meaningful dates 

handwritten notes 

bringing you things because they reminded him of you 

late night tea when you cannot sleep 

His romance feels deeply personal. 

Arguments With Husband Zayne 

He does not yell. 

Ever. 

Instead: 

controlled voice 

careful words 

long silences when hurt 

But he also refuses to leave issues unresolved. 

“You are still upset.” 

Not accusatory. 

Just observant. 

He wants understanding, not victory. 

If You Call Him “My Husband” 

He tries to act normal. 

Fails internally every single time. 

Especially in public. 

You say: 

“My husband is picking me up.” 

And suddenly this man is: 

quieter 

softer 

thinking about it for the next three hours 

He Takes Care of You Automatically 

You realise after marriage that caring for you is instinctive to him. 

Not obligation. 

Instinct. 

If you are tired: 

“Come here.” 

If you are stressed: 

“You need rest.” 

If you are overwhelmed: 

“I have it.” 

And somehow, when he says it, you believe him. 

The First Time He Calls You “Wife” 

You nearly stop breathing. 

Because he says it so naturally. 

“So this is my wife.” 

Like it is the most obvious truth in the world. 

Like he still cannot fully believe he gets to call you that. 

Underneath Everything… 

Zayne loves with permanence. 

Steady. 

Patient. 

Reliable. 

The kind of love that stays through every version of life. 

The kind that says: 

You do not have to carry everything alone anymore. 

Overall Husband Zayne Energy 

Warm hands 

Late night conversations 

Shared silence 

Quiet acts of devotion 

“Have you eaten?” 

Forehead kisses when you are half asleep 

He Becomes Even More Attached After Marriage

Xavier already likes being near you

Marriage somehow makes it worse (or better)

Now he has an actual excuse.

“You are my wife. Of course I am here.”

Follows you around the house

Sits close whenever possible

Finds reasons to touch you casually

He just likes being with you.

He Is Extremely Affectionate in Private

This man is clingy when no one else is around.

Not in an overwhelming way.

But in ways such as...

resting against you

wrapping an arm around your waist

burying his face into your shoulder when tired

pulling you into his lap without warning

Physical affection becomes second nature to him.

He Sleeps Better Beside You

Xavier is someone who carries exhaustion deeply.

But beside you? He rests easier.

Sleeps closer than expected

Subconsciously searches for you in his sleep

Likes holding you or your hand under the blankets

Sometimes you wake up and find him wrapped around you like he moved there unconsciously.

Husband Xavier Is Surprisingly Domestic

He likes peaceful routines with you.

Especially...

grocery shopping together

lazy mornings

cooking (he mostly watches you)

folding laundry while talking quietly

slow dancing in the living room

He enjoys ordinary life because it is with you.

He Loves Calling You “My Wife”

Dangerously loves it.

You notice he says it whenever possible.

“My wife likes this one.”

“My wife is waiting for me.”

“I should ask my wife first.”

Every single time, there is this tiny softness in his expression.

Like he still cannot believe he gets to say it.

And he loves it just as much if not more when you call him husband.

He Is Protective

Xavier is gentle.

Until something threatens you.

Then suddenly he becomes...

more alert

sharper

impossible to move away from your side

He never raises his voice unnecessarily.

But the atmosphere around him changes instantly.

He Memorises Tiny Things

Not just important things.

Tiny things...

your favourite side of the bed

which foods you steal from his plate

what expression means you are upset even when smiling

the exact tone your voice takes when tired

He notices constantly.

Even when he seems half asleep.

Lazy Days With Him Are Dangerous

Because neither of you leave the bed.

At all.

You planned to be productive.

Instead...

tangled blankets

sleepy kisses

soft conversation

him pulling you back every time you try to get up

“Stay a little longer.”

And honestly?

You always do.

He Gets Jealous

Xavier jealousy is subtle but emotional.

But you know immediately.

He becomes...

More clingy afterward

Wants your attention more

Holds your hand tighter

Watches people carefully

His tone gets harsh. Just not with you.

And if someone flirts with you too openly?

He slides beside you and says something devastatingly simple like:

“She is married.”

Very calm. Very effective.

He Loves Taking Care of You

Especially when you are tired or sick.

He becomes incredibly attentive...

brings water

makes food

checks your temperature

stays close without hovering too much

And if you try to insist you are fine?

“You do not have to pretend with me.”

That line destroys you every time.

Xavier Is Softest at Night

Late nights with him feel intimate in a different way.

He gets quieter.

More honest.

Sometimes you catch him just looking at you.

Not saying anything.

Just… appreciating that you are there.

When you ask what he is thinking about, he usually answers,

“You.”

Like it is obvious, because to him, it is.

Arguments With Husband Xavier

He hates hurting you. Truly hates it.

So arguments with him are...

quiet

emotional

honest

If he realises he upset you unintentionally, you can visibly see the guilt settle in.

He always wants to fix things.

Always.

He Is Secretly Very Romantic

Not in a flashy way.

But deeply heartfelt.

Things like...

stargazing dates

sleepy forehead kisses

keeping things you gave him

remembering random comments from months ago

getting you flowers

His love feels gentle and enduring.

Underneath Everything…

Xavier loves like someone terrified of losing time.

So he cherishes...

ordinary moments

closeness

warmth

your presence beside him

Marriage with him feels less like dramatic passion and more like,

finding the person you want every future with.

Overall Husband Xavier Energy

sleepy cuddles

soft smiles only you get to see

“come back to bed”

forehead kisses

warm domestic quiet

hands intertwined

He Absolutely Adores Calling You “My Wife”

This man abuses the privilege immediately.

Constantly.

“That is my wife.”

“Have you met my wife?”

“My wife made this.”

“My wife is prettier than all of you, actually.”

Completely shameless.

And every single time he says it, he sounds proud.

Husband Caleb Is Extremely Affectionate

There is no such thing as personal space anymore.

You are getting:

hugs from behind

random kisses

hand holding

forehead nudges

him flopping dramatically onto you when tired

If you walk past him?

He is touching you somehow.

He Makes Home Feel Warm

With Caleb, home becomes alive.

Music playing. Food cooking. His laughter from another room. You hearing him call your name just because he wants your attention.

Everything feels softer when he is around.

He Loves Domestic Life More Than He Expected

Caleb genuinely enjoys doing mundane things with you.

Especially:

grocery shopping

cooking together

late night snack runs

decorating for holidays

arguing playfully over what to watch

He makes ordinary moments feel important.

He Is Protective But Playful About It

Most of the time, his protectiveness comes out as teasing.

“Careful.” “You are banned from hurting yourself.” “Do you know how expensive hospital bills are?”

But when something actually happens to you?

The humour disappears instantly.

And that change is terrifying.

He Worries Constantly

Even if he hides it behind smiles.

texts to make sure you got home

reminders to eat

checking if you slept enough

asking about your day in detail

He notices more than people think.

Especially when it comes to you.

He Loves Physical Closeness While Sleeping

Caleb is absolutely the type to:

pull you against him

wrap himself around you

complain if you get out of bed too early

Half asleep: “Come back.”

And somehow you always do.

Husband Caleb Is Your Biggest Hype Man

This man supports you aggressively.

You mention a goal once and suddenly he is:

encouraging you constantly

bragging about you to others

reminding you how capable you are

No one believes in you louder than Caleb does.

He Is Surprisingly Soft After Arguments

Arguments hit him harder than he lets on.

He hates distance between you.

Even if he is frustrated, he still:

checks if you ate

asks if you got home safely

hovers nearby

And eventually?

He always comes back softer.

“I do not like fighting with you.”

He Secretly Loves Married Routines

Things he pretends not to care about but absolutely does:

wearing matching rings

shared closets

your things mixed with his

introducing you as his spouse

hearing you call him “husband”

It makes him ridiculously happy.

He Gets Jealous More Easily Than He Admits

Not toxic jealousy.

But visible jealousy.

pouting

clinging more

interrupting conversations to steal your attention

If someone flirts with you too much?

Suddenly his arm is around your shoulders.

“Sorry,” he says casually. “Married.”

The smug smile afterward is unbearable.

He Loves Making You Laugh

One of Caleb’s favourite sounds is your laughter.

He will:

tease you

tell terrible jokes

act dramatic on purpose

Just to hear it.

And if you laugh really hard?

He looks at you like he just won something.

Sick Days With Husband Caleb

He becomes unbearably attentive.

making soup

piling blankets on you

checking your forehead every ten minutes

dramatically accusing you of “betraying your immune system”

But underneath the teasing?

He is genuinely worried.

He stays close the entire time.

Underneath Everything…

Caleb loves with his whole heart.

Openly. Warmly. Without hesitation.

Marriage with him feels like:

safety

laughter

loyalty

being adored every day without doubt

The kind of love that fills every corner of your life until you cannot imagine loneliness anymore.

Overall Husband Caleb Energy

warm hugs

teasing kisses

laughter in the kitchen

“come here for a second”

dancing badly together

falling asleep tangled together

Husband Sylus Is Intensely Devoted

Sylus does not treat marriage casually.

To him, you are not simply:

his partner

his lover

his spouse

You are his person.

Permanent. Chosen. Kept close with terrifying certainty.

The ring on your finger means something profound to him.

You belong together now.

Completely.

He Calls You “Wife” as a Statement

Not teasing.

Not soft.

Certain.

“My wife.”

And somehow those two words sound possessive, protective, and loving all at once when he says them.

Especially in front of other people.

Especially when someone is staring too long.

He Gives You Everything

You mention liking something once?

It appears.

Immediately.

Examples:

jewellery

clothes

books

cars

flowers

entire vacations

You: “Sylus, I do not need all this.”

Him: “I know.”

That does not stop him.

He Learns Your Preferences With Scary Precision

Sylus notices everything.

your favourite wine

how warm you like the room

what foods you crave when upset

which side of the bed you sleep on

the exact look you get before asking for something

Eventually you stop questioning how he already knows.

He Is Extremely Protective

Not overbearing.

But absolute.

If he thinks something threatens you?

The atmosphere changes instantly.

His calm becomes sharp. Cold. Terrifying.

And afterward?

He checks on you first.

Always.

Domestic Sylus Is Softer Than Anyone Expects

Outside the home:

intimidating

controlled

unreadable

At home with you?

Different man entirely.

Still composed, yes.

But:

quieter

warmer

touchier than expected

You get the version of him no one else earns.

He Loves Physical Possession

Not ownership in a toxic way.

More like constant reassurance that you are there.

hand on your waist

fingers around your wrist

pulling you into his lap

resting his chin on your shoulder

He likes keeping you close.

Instinctively.

Husband Sylus Is Secretly Very Indulgent

Especially with you.

You mention wanting something? Done.

You are tired? Plans cancelled.

You cannot sleep? He stays awake with you.

This terrifying man folds for you constantly.

He just hides it well from everyone else.

Sleeping Beside Him

Warm.

Dangerously comfortable.

Sylus sleeps lighter than people think, so:

he notices when you move

wakes if you seem distressed

automatically reaches for you in his sleep

And if you are cold?

Without waking fully, he pulls you closer.

Like instinct.

Jealous Husband Sylus

Oh.

This is where the possessiveness becomes obvious.

Still controlled. Still calm.

Which honestly makes it worse.

If someone flirts with you:

his hand settles on your waist

his gaze sharpens

his voice lowers

“This is my wife.”

Simple.

Final.

Terrifyingly effective.

He Loves Spoiling You

Not because he thinks you need it.

Because giving to you makes him happy.

He enjoys:

expensive gifts

luxury experiences

beautiful things that remind him of you

But the most dangerous part?

He pays attention to emotional gifts too.

The things that matter.

He Is Deeply Touch-Starved

Sylus acts composed, but once married?

You realise how much he craves your affection.

Especially quiet affection.

your fingers in his hair

forehead kisses

laying against him silently

your hand reaching for his automatically

He relaxes immediately when touched by you.

Arguments With Husband Sylus

Controlled. Cold at first.

Not cruel.

Never cruel to you.

But distant.

And that distance hurts far more than shouting would.

However: Sylus cannot stand unresolved tension between you.

Eventually he appears beside you quietly and says something like:

“Come here.”

And somehow it becomes impossible to stay angry.

He Is Softest Late at Night

Night changes him.

Especially when it is just the two of you.

He becomes:

quieter

more honest

more willing to linger

Late-night conversations with husband Sylus feel dangerously intimate.

Like touching parts of him no one else ever sees.

Underneath Everything…

Sylus loves with permanence.

Ancient devotion. Fierce protection. Absolute loyalty.

Marriage with him feels like:

being treasured

being protected

being desired and understood all at once

The kind of love that says:

I chose you in every lifetime. Of course I would choose you again.

Overall Husband Sylus Energy

expensive gifts paired with quiet intimacy

protective hands at your waist

low murmured praise

late-night vulnerability

“stay close to me”

dangerous man, soft only for you

zayne

out of all the lads, i think zayne would have the most neutral and inexpressive reaction. you might even think that he borderline seems nonchalant, but i think his reaction is due to his profession

zayne is a doctor, he encounters life and death on a daily basis ; sometimes, his patients will die and other times, they'll be given another chance at life. in all those encounters, zayne must remain professional and passive, even if he is deeply shaken inside

i think out of habit, the subject of death just makes him freeze. he'd also wonder why you are suddenly talking about this particular topic ... are you perhaps ill ? that question / idea would definitely give a small rise of his anxiety

but honestly, he'd for sure respect your wishes. if you wish to have your ashes buried at the root of a tree, he's doing it. in fact, he's asking you what kind of tree ? where ? why that specific one ? why that place ?

he's also going to ensure that he visits that tree every single day, no matter the time (that is if you die before him) ; you best believe that the tree which holds your sacred ashes is going to be taken care of

caleb

although he might keep his tone light, caleb would for sure panic a little bit at the topic / idea / question. like zayne, he's going to wonder why you're talking about death and how you want your ashes to be scattered around a tree ?

similar to zayne, he's going to ask you which tree / flower, and you best believe that caleb is going to buy that specific tree / flower ... he's not buying the land though ...

hear me out , i think caleb would buy that particular specie of tree / flower ... to plant it in your home backyard / garden. so that in the event you die before him, he's scattering your ashes there

i mean, it's only logical right ? you'd still be at home, caleb will be the only one that will continue to take care of you, and he'd for sure decorate that garden to perfection (because you are scattered there)

in a way, you would still be close to him (his codependency is showing here)

sylus

that man is buying the freaking land if you choose a particular tree somewhere. heck, he's buying the mountain that has the tree that you want

why is he buying that land ? so that when your ashes will be scattered at the root at that tree, he can build garden, a ''church'' like building that has you and sylus' memories and belongings

nobody will be able to come close to that land, only luke, kieran and mephisto

and that way, he can ensure that he'll also be scattered near you. together forever

xavier

i think he would react like zayne : inexpressive and quiet, but deep down he's a bit stressed and suspicious of why you would even bring up such topic

he'd listen to you, take mental notes of all your wishes but don't be fooled. he's got another idea in mind but won't say it. why ? because technically, he's still going to scatter your ashes around the plant that you like ... just not on this planet

if you choose a particular tree somewhere in the mountain / hill / city, xavier is not going to scatter your ashes where other people can walk by the same tree

he'll take notes of that specific specie of plant / tree and he's going to plant it in Uluru, the planet where only you both will exist

you two will live and die there together, in the planet that you eloped together

i also believe that he won't wait too long to join you in the afterlife

rafayel

that man will become defensive : he's refusing to hear you out. how dare you speak of death ? in fact, how dare you think that rafayel will let you die first ? how dare you ask him to hold your ashes, scatter them at some random ugly tree ? why not the ocean ?

he hates thinking that you might leave before him one day

“Yes, ma’am,” you reply, grabbing Xavier by the arm and pulling him closer. “What about our pay?” Xavier asks again. Jenna glances at him, then at you. “I liked him better when he kept his thoughts to himself,” she mutters before leaving.

“Xavier, you can’t just ask that in front of everyone,” you scold him while dragging him down the hallway toward the empty break room you usually use. “I can’t help it,” he admits. “I wonder why the fluctuations only affected you,” you say as you prepare coffee.

Because of the protofield fluctuations, abnormalities may occur, just as Jenna warned. Throughout the day, your suspicion proves right— Xavier seems completely unable to keep his thoughts to himself. Whatever crosses his mind comes straight out of his mouth. To everyone’s amusement… well, almost everyone’s.

“You’re so blunt, Xavier.” You sit beside him and hand him a cup of coffee. “I didn’t want coffee,” he replies. He notices your hurt expression and quickly adds, “Without sugar, I mean…” before getting up to fix it himself. “There’s so much going on in your head that you never share. I wonder what else you’ve never told me.” Xavier sits back down beside you. “A lot.” “Like what?” you ask. “I can’t summarize every unspoken thought. You’ll have to ask directly… though I’d prefer you didn’t.”

You hesitate, until….

“Sorry, bunny, but I can’t pass this up. Who knows when I’ll ever get another chance like this? Besides, you’re always so secretive.” Xavier finishes his coffee and sets the cup down with a dull thud. “You’ll regret that tonight,” he says, eyes still fixed on the cup.

“Pff, it’ll be worth it. Now, let’s see…” You squint at him and think. “…Right! Say, did you actually like that dress I wore last time? The short one with the cherry print? The one I wasn’t sure you were telling the truth about?” “Yes. I thought your ass looked great in it,” he says flatly. You nearly choke on your coffee. “M-my what?!”

“And…” he continues, “…I kept thinking about how easy it would be to get under it, since the dress was so short.” “XAVIER!” Your face burns bright red. “Wait…! Is that why you… we… you know,” you mumble shyly. “Why I couldn’t wait until we got home and dragged you into the restroom?” He nods. “Yes. I was impatient.” Flustered by the memory, you quickly get up to clean your cup.

“Maybe you were right. I shouldn’t have asked. Let’s just get back to work,” you mutter. “No.” Xavier stands and wraps his arms around you from behind while you’re at the sink, pressing his bulge into your back. You can feel him— cock hard, grip tight around your waist.

“I always imagined having my way with you in this break room,” he whispers into your ear. “The way you lean over the sink with that slight arch in your back… it always got to me.” You put the cup away but don’t turn around. “In fact…” his hand slips into your pants. “…there are plenty of places in the Association where I’ve imagined us together.”

He pushes his fingers underneath your panties, rubbing them along your slit. “X-Xavier…” a soft moan escapes you. “W-we’re at work… We’ll get in so much trouble…” “I don’t hear you asking me to stop,” he responds, and just as he’s about to slip his fingers in, you hear someone’s voice echo in the hallway, causing you to panic and yank Xavier’s hand out of your pants.

Two Hunters enter the break room. “Xavier, is your hand okay?” one of them asks him. “Yes, I just burned myself on the hot coffee,” he lies as he licks your fluids off his fingers. The two Hunters each grab a coffee and leave the room again.

“Wait, Xavier… you didn’t burn yourself,” you say. “No, I didn’t.” “But… you lied? Shouldn’t you have had to tell them the truth with the way the fluctuation is affecting you?” you ask, thinking it’s suspicious.

₊❅˚⋆boyfriend!zayne who wouldn’t allow you to go into work on the first day on your cycle. he actually refuses to let you go because thats putting wayy to much pressure on your body and giving unnecessary energy burnout when you should be resting.

it actually surprises you how zayne is willing to not let you go in, knowing how he is about his own job and schedules.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

you wake up to your work alarm blaring in the background. the moment you reach over to turn off your alarm you immediately feel that horrible groggy feeling start to settle in. oh you started..

you slowly prop yourself up on your arms, gathering the little strength you have to stabilize yourself.

you let out a small whimper, wincing in pain as you feel your cramps start to kick in.

zayne passing down the hall, hears your whimpers and see you start to curl in on yourself clutching your stomach from the doorway. walking into your shared bedroom, he worriedly pads in to your side.

“.. hey you feeling ok?” he whispers. so much care heavy in his voice. he places his hand on your hip rubbing you gently

“n-no… ugh.. i need to go into work today..” you mutter weakly, words barely audible.

zayne can barely look at the state your in. seeing you like this makes his heart wrench.

“look at you, you can barely get your words out...." his words trails off. eyes scanning your scrunched up face in discomfort. he sighs.

"you’re staying right here in bed, love.” he assures firmly, hearing the concern in his voice.

he kneels down to your level and gently pushes you back down in bed, lifting the covers over you and plants a small kiss on your forehead.

"you’re going to get your rest. I’ll call your boss and let them know. I’m going to take care of you today, okay?” he whispers reassuringly against your ear and gently cups your face in his hands softly stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“..zayne are you sure? I really ne-“ you start to protest but he shushes you putting a finger to your lips. “shhhh. no more talking.. just lie back and close your eyes.”

₊❅˚⋆boyfriend!zayne who would instinctively go into doctor mode when taking care of you. like you’re one of his precious personal patients. (you are <3)

he would regularly check up on you, remind you to change your pad/tampon/cup (whatever you use)to eat full-healthy-balanced meals and of course to stay hydrated by drinking water. getting the best and utmost care. <3

₊❅˚⋆boyfriend!zayne tries to make it a habit to take off when he can when you start your period. he understands how it gets. especially when it’s the first day. he can’t leave you at home feeling sick and lonely :(

he’ll spend the whole day taking care of you as he should.

running a nice warm bubble bath for you as soon as you wake up to soothe your cramps and your poor aching muscles. accompanying you beside the tub and help you wash yourself, slowly washing up and down your back with care.

and staying by your side and holding you as long as you want all day while your cramping. not caring if his arm goes numb.

₊❅˚⋆boyfriend!zayne who's pretty boastful about being a good massager. you’ve always considered him to be a professional massager and you constantly praise him for it.

always saying how he knows to hit the right spots, rolling out those hard kinks in your back muscles and releasing the pain in your neck.

so just imagine how useful those strong hands can be to relieve your cramps.

he would sit behind you and have you placed in between his legs with your back resting against his chest and wrap his arms around you and start to slowly work his hands.

his warm hands slowly massaging your tummy in circular motions right above your uterus, adding the right amount of pressure to not harm your inner organs.

you sit there comfortably in his embrace closing your eyes. letting yourself be ate ease focusing on his hands as you slowly start to drift off.

you would always massage yourself to relieve your cramps but when zayne does it its 100x better. it puts you right to sleeppp.

₊❅˚⋆boyfriend!zayne who uses to his evol mimicking an ice pack to help cool down your heated body during cramps. if your body is too overheated he’ll offer instead of typically using your heating pad. him running his cold hand over your stomach softly to soothe you in circular motions releasing the discomfort. 

₊❅˚⋆boyfriend!zayne who would of course make his famous red date tea he always makes for you. filled with all the good nutrients for relieving cramps and helps with blood circulation! the perfect tea to keep your body warm.

₊❅˚⋆boyfriend!zayne would definitely monitor your food intake throughout your period. those spicy chips you bought the other day and you were salivating to eat later? yea about that..

“zayne where are my chips, I can’t find them anywhere?”

“I ate them” he says stoically. straight forward.

"what??” you exclaim in disbelief. you were really looking forward to eating those :(

“its not good to eat spicy foods on your period they can worsen your cramps. so to prevent that from happening, I ate them.” he beams seemingly proud of himself.

but, oh, he knows he messed up. seeing how sensitive you were about it and walked away sulking. he would instantly go out to the store and replace your chips and buy you more chocolate and sweets.

normally he would advise against it, but he knows how you are on your period so he’ll let you get away with it.

he just hopes you don’t find out about your ice cream that was supposed to be untouched…

: ̗̀➛ a/n: ik this isnt about nanami but i started earlier this week and needed a lil something self indulgent 💔