At First, I Just Wanted To Make A Silly Eepy Kitty Xavi Drink Milk, And Before I Knew It, I Had Already

How the LADS boys would cuddle you

pairing: reader x Zayne, Xavier, Rafayel, Sylus & Caleb (separately)

cw: fluff, gn reader

a/n: This is my first time writing! (sorry if there are any spelling mistakes or other things!)

Zayne

There's nothing he loves more than coming home after a long day at the hospital, lying down beside you, and holding you close.

Loves putting his hands under your shirt for warmth while cuddling.

Hearing your heartbeat calms him and slowly lulls him to sleep.

Xavier

He lies on top of you with his face nuzzled in your chest breathing in your scent.

Falls asleep almost instantly. (sleeps like this for hours)

He loves it when you play with his hair and lightly scratch his scalp while he dozes off.

Rafayel

Spooning you while he holds tight (you're definitely struggling to breathe).

He'll whisper things in your ear (compliments, complaints, ...).

He loves to pet, touch and and play with your hair (will braid it if it's long enough).

Sylus

He has his arms wrapped around your back, slowly caressing your sides while you're straddling him. (Not in a seductive way, as much as he loves that.)

Your face is nuzzled in the crook of his neck as his head rests on yours.

(If the twins find you, they're definitely taking a picture of their boss-man napping with Miss Hunter.)

Caleb

His head is resting on your stomach between your legs while he has his arms wrapped around your waist.

His grip on you is tight but not painful so you can't escape. (again)

His fingers caress your back slowly as you both fall asleep.

He will occasionally look ap at you just to admire your face in silence.

AT LAST SOMEONE WROTE A SICKFIC ..OMG THANK YOUUUU

𝑺𝒐𝒇𝒕 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒆. - 𝑋𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑑𝑎𝑦.

✧───── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ─────✧

𝖠 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝖿𝗂𝖼 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖷𝖺𝗏𝗂𝖾𝗋 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗆!

─˙✶ 𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲: 𝘟𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘳 𝘹 𝘔𝘤 (you)

─˙✶ 𝖦𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾: 𝘍𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

─˙✶ 𝖶𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖢𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍: 594

─˙✶ 𝖠/𝖭: 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴! 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵.

The door clicks shut behind you as you step inside, groceries in hand, only to freeze at the sight of Xavier curled up on the couch. His normally pristine posture is replaced with a slight slump, shoulders tense under the weight of a thick blanket. His hair’s a bit messier than usual, and there’s a flushed look to his face — one that screams he’s barely holding it together.

You’re already walking toward him before he even looks up.

“Don’t,” he mutters, voice rougher than usual. “I’m fine.”

You raise an eyebrow at the disheveled state of him. He looks far from fine.

“Uh-huh,” you say, clearly unimpressed. “Sure, you’re fine.” You set the groceries down with a soft thud, walking closer to the couch. He doesn’t meet your eyes, though his jaw tightens at the movement, like he’s debating whether to stay silent or argue.

“Really,” he insists, trying to sit up straighter. “I don’t need—”

You place a hand on his shoulder before he can push himself up, your touch surprisingly warm against his skin. He stills instantly, and you feel his muscles relax under your fingers.

“Xavier,” you say, soft but firm, “you’re burning up.”

“Didn’t ask for a diagnosis,” he says, voice hoarse but laced with that typical Xavier dryness. But you know the edge of it isn’t just irritation — there’s a hint of something else, something he doesn’t want to admit: vulnerability. He hates it.

“Too bad,” you reply, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. You grab a damp cloth from the table and press it gently to his forehead. His eyes close in a long blink, and for a moment, he lets you.

“I’m fine,” he repeats in a murmur, but there’s no conviction in it this time. His words sound more like a plea than a statement.

You watch him for a moment, the way his brow furrows and the way his hand instinctively twitches toward the hem of the blanket. His breath is shallow, his body betraying him even as his mind tries to hold onto that veneer of strength.

“Yeah, sure you are,” you say softly, your thumb brushing his temple. He doesn’t pull away, but instead, he exhales deeply, letting the tension in his shoulders melt. It’s almost imperceptible, but you catch it.

“I hate being like this,” he mutters, barely audible.

You don’t say anything at first, letting the quiet stretch between you both. He’s always been the one to keep everything close to his chest — the walls built high, the walls that never seemed to crack. But right now, in the dim light of your apartment, his walls are lowered just a little.

“It’s okay,” you say after a beat. “You don’t have to be perfect all the time.”

Xavier finally opens his eyes, meeting yours with a steady gaze, though there’s still a flicker of something soft beneath the cool exterior. He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t need to. You can see it in the way his body slowly sinks into the couch again, the way his hand relaxes against your wrist.

He’s never liked being cared for — not like this, not when he can’t hide behind his usual self-assurance. But tonight, he lets you care for him, lets you be there in the ways he doesn’t know how to ask for.

“Stay with me,” he says quietly, a simple request that makes your heart tighten.

And you do. You stay with him. You don’t argue. You don’t press.

You just let him rest.

Side note: ☆(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*

SOMEBODY SAID IT AT LAST... SCREAM THIS OUT LOUD

Xavier deserves more love.

There! I said it!

The man has loved mc for three life times now, made a deal with the devil (Ever), traveled across time and space, moved planets, lived on Earth for a few hundred years to save find her, and prevent catastrophe from happening to her, fuck even saving her as Lumiere when she was young.

She is the only one that sees him as himself. As Xavier.

He is kind, and comfortable, and selfless. He deals with immense survivors guilt and loves so deeply.

We talk about Rafayel and Caleb being the yearners and clingers. But have you seen Xavier? He is clingy as fuck, and wants nothing but her. Nothing.

I feel like he gets overlooked so often, partially because he’s not as showy as the rest of LIs. I’m sure some might see him as boring, but he is safe. His relationship with MC is one of closest she has, aside from Caleb. They’re neighbours, and colleagues, and best friends. He is deeply ingrained in her life, and a foundational pilar of support for her.

Put some respect on his name.

𝙃𝙀 𝙍𝙀𝙈𝙀𝙈𝘽𝙀𝙍𝙎 (QP1)

Decided to post my brainrot/self-indulgent quick prompt on how the LIs handle MC's period... because, well, I’m dealing with the emotional rollercoaster myself right now...

After a long day at work, you step outside, only to find him waiting for you. Confused, you approach, wondering why he’s here, and he studies you intently before checking his phone.

It’s the first day of your period.

Xavier brightens (not literally) the moment he sees you.

“Hey. How was work? Are you feeling okay?”

You tilt your head, confused by his sudden concern. Before you can ask, Xavier glances at his phone, scrolling for a moment before looking back at you with a sheepish smile.

“It’s, uh… that time of the month, right?” His voice is gentle, almost hesitant. “I just wanted to check if you needed anything.”

Without waiting for an answer, he pulls a small bag from behind him. Inside are your favorite comfort snacks, a fluffy heat pack, and a bottle of warm tea.

“I wasn’t sure what would help, so I got a little bit of everything.” He rubs the back of his neck, eyes full of warmth. “And, uh… if you need distractions, I found a cute cat café nearby. Thought it might help.”

His concern is pure and unassuming, and he’s not teasing, not overbearing, just genuinely wanting to make you feel better.

Zayne watches you closely, scanning your face for any sign of discomfort. When you look at him confused, he sighs, as if expecting this reaction.

“You tend to forget to take care of yourself,” he murmurs, unlocking his phone and glancing at his notes. “It’s the first day of your period.”

You initially assumed it was just a regular stomach ache.

“You usually get cramps around this time. Have you eaten?” He states it like a fact, like something he’s committed to memory as part of his duty to take care of you.

Before you can even respond, he pulls a small bag from behind him—inside are heat patches, painkillers, and your favorite snacks.

“I don’t want you passing out on the way home,” Zayne says, voice gentle. “Come on, I’ll take you back.”

He doesn’t make a big deal of it. He just makes sure you’re taken care of. Because, to him, that’s what love is.

Rafayel doesn’t waste time with pleasantries. As soon as you approach, he checks his phone before speaking.

“You’re late.”

You blinked in confusion. “Late for what?”

He looks at you, unimpressed. “To take care of yourself, obviously.”

Without another word, he hands you a neatly packed bag. Inside is a precise selection of herbal teas, pain relief patches, and a carefully balanced meal.

“I researched the best remedies,” he states matter-of-factly. “And that is you should rely on me more.”

Well… it’s the closest thing to an admission that he worries about you... very much.

Sylus grins the moment you spot him.

“Took you long enough.” He lifts his phone, scrolling lazily before stopping. “Looks like I got the timing just right.”

You frown. “Timing for what?”

He slings an arm over your shoulders, walking you toward his parked motorcycle. “For me to kidnap you. Thought I’d save you from work misery and get you some comfort food.”

You halted him with a frown, and he released you.

“Don’t give me that look. I’m a very attentive man.” He crosses his arms, tilting his head. “You always get extra grumpy around this time, so I figured I’d do something about it.”

“I'm not grumpy—” Your words were cut off as he gently patted your head.

“I got a whole day planned… comfort food, bad movies, and all the attention you can handle.”

Before you can protest, he grabs the helmet and secures it on you, his usual cocky smirk softening just a bit.

“Don’t argue, sweetie—just let me spoil you today.”

He might play it cool, but the fact that he remembered your cycle down to the day? That says more than his words ever could.

Caleb holds up his phone, wiggling it between his fingers like it’s some grand reveal.

“Today’s a special day.”

You just stare at him, then he leans in closer, voice dropping into a whisper.

“Pipsqueak, don’t tell me you forgot again.”

You looked confused as he let out a low chuckle.

“Your period started, didn’t it?” His teasing grin widens when you gaped at him. “What, don’t look at me like that. I keep track of the important things.”

He tucks his phone away and steps closer, his hand ghosting over your lower back.

“I was wondering if you’d need me to carry you home. Or…” He leans in, lips just by your ear. “...if you’d rather be pampered in bed.”

You gave him a quick smack on the arm, earning a chuckle from him. Then, he ruffles your hair before slipping a warm drink into your hands.

“Drink up. I can’t have you suffering on my watch.”

Hope you all like it, and maybe it helps a bit with period stress and discomfort too! Which one do you like most, and why? Let me know!

Also I needed some real solars for his trials because he ONLY EVER GIVES ME BONFIRE OR BUNNY

Snow Day

Pure fluff | You and Xavier wake up one morning to a surprise snowstorm

Your alarm blares right on schedule. Each ring causes your head to throb as you slap at your bedside table in an attempt to turn it off. You are too comfy to get up now. Your blankets are just the right warmth, and you rest comfortably against Xavier’s chest, his arms wrapped around your waist. However, you have to go to work. It’s mornings like these that make you wish you were unemployed. You yawn and rub your eyes as you shift to the edge of the bed, but Xavier’s grip tightens, pulling you back against him.

“Five more minutes,” he mutters in his sleep. You giggle to yourself as you unlatch his arms from your body.

“Xavier, we have to work today. It’s time to get up.”

“I don’t wanna.” You playfully roll your eyes. Xavier is not a morning person. He has the sleeping schedule of a cat and would sleep all day if he could.

“I’m making tea. That’ll help you wake up.” Xavier quietly whines as you leave the bed.

Shuffling to the kitchen, you yawn again as you grab the teabags and kettle. You are beyond exhausted. Everyday, you wake up before dawn to hunt down and fight wanderers until late at night. The physical strain of your job is taking a toil on your body. You could really use a vacation sometime soon. As you fill the kettle with water from the sink, you glance out the window to see snow flurries in the air.

You drop everything as you stare out the window. The weather forecast said nothing about the possibility of snow. It’s supposed to be the last below-freezing day of the year before the temperature starts to rise for spring, but here you are, watching as the snow begins to come down harder.

You throw on Xavier’s white hoodie that’s lying on the couch and walk onto the balcony mesmerized. Sure enough, a fresh blanket of snow covers Linkon City. An alert sounds on your hunter’s watch:

Attention: Due to heavy snowfall and road closures, hunters are not required to come into the office today. Be alert for mission requests if an emergency does arise in this weather. Enjoy your snow day.

“Does this mean we can go back to bed?” a voice says behind you. You turn to see Xavier also standing in the snow with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Snowflakes stick to his hair, almost blending in with the color.

“Xavier, it’s snowing!” You grin as you point at the city, your eyes lighting up with joy.

Xavier laughs. He wraps the blanket around the both of you, pulling you against him. “I know. We also don’t have to work, sooo…” Xavier kisses the tip of your nose. “Let’s get back in bed where it’s warm. You’re freezing.”

Whether it’s because the cold air zapping all the energy out of you or the comfy heat radiating off Xavier enveloping your body, exhaustion overtakes you, and you fully lean into Xavier’s embrace. You can’t help but feel giddy from this wonderful surprise.

“Yeah, let’s go back to bed.”

Xavier wastes no time, practically teleporting the two of you back into the bedroom. In just a moment, you are under the covers in the exact same position you were in before the alarm went off.

Xavier hums in satisfaction as he nuzzles your neck. “You’re wearing my hoodie.”

“Is that okay? I didn’t even think before putting it on.”

“Mmhm, you look good in it. I don’t mind you wearing my clothes.” His emphasis on the word “my” causes heat to rush to your cheeks. You cover your face with the blanket out of embarrassment. Xavier chuckles as he pulls it back down. “Don’t hide. You’ll suffocate under there.”

You turn over to face Xavier. Looking into each other’s eyes, a quiet peace fills the room. Your morning wish came true, and now you get to have a day of rest with your favorite person. You couldn’t ask for more.

“You know,” he whispers, breaking the silence, “I’ve always liked snow days. They allow me to stay home and sleep as much as I want, but I like them a lot more now.”

“Why is that?”

Xavier kisses your forehead. His lips move down your face, and your breathing hitches. “Because,” he says in between kisses, “I get to have you all to myself.”

“lads boys with a clingy partner”

hi bunnies sorry for not posting🥹 happy easter to all the ones who celebrate!

content: fluff, mentions of nightmares

୨୧･｡｡･♡･∴･♡･｡｡･୨୧

Sylus

the morning air in onychinus is cold, but not cold enough to keep you from crawling onto Sylus’ lap while he’s trying to go through files. he sits on the velvet couch, his black blazer draped over his shoulders, one hand holding a holopad and the other gripping a steaming mug. you’re practically glued to him, arms around his waist, cheek against his chest

he exhales sharply, but it’s not annoyance—it’s more like the sound of someone trying very hard not to indulge you too fast

“i can’t feel my legs,” he mutters, not even looking down “you’ve been clinging to me for the past forty minutes”

“you love it,” you murmur into his shirt, fingers playing with the fabric “i’m your favorite parasite”

he finally looks down, crimson eyes glinting in amusement “if i had a favorite parasite, you’d be it, yes”

his hand moves from the mug to your back, fingers tracing lazy circles against your spine. he doesn’t push you away. of course he doesn’t. Sylus complains, but he never actually means it. you’ve figured that out by now

“you could’ve kicked me off,” you tease

“i could’ve,” he says dryly “but i’m indulging your clinginess. it’s charming. pathetic, but charming”

you pout up at him “mean.”

“accurate.”

but he softens, just a little, when you don’t move. when your breathing evens out against him, and your fingers curl slightly like you’re afraid he’ll disappear if you let go

his voice drops to a murmur “what’s gotten into you?”

“nothing,” you say “just wanna stay close”

he hums “you’ve been like this all week”

you don’t respond right away. instead, you tug his blazer tighter around the both of you and nuzzle in

after a beat, Sylus speaks again, quieter this time

“did you have another nightmare?”

you hesitate, then nod

he sets the holopad aside with a sigh and cups your face, guiding your head up until you meet his gaze

“you need to tell me these things,” he says “i can’t drag them out of you while you cling to me like an octopus”

“i’m not an octopus”

“you’re worse. you’re cute. and you know i can’t say no when you’re like this”

you blink up at him “so you do like it.”

he narrows his eyes “i didn’t say that.”

you smirk “you implied it.”

he kisses you before you can get cocky. just once, light and brief, but enough to silence your teasing

“you can cling to me all you want,” he murmurs, his voice low “just don’t keep things from me”

“i wasn’t trying to hide it,” you say softly “just didn’t wanna make you worry”

he lets out a soft chuckle, barely audible “i worry when you don’t cling to me”

you blink “you do?”

“mmh” he leans back, tugging you closer, settling you against him like you’re meant to be there “you’re always holding onto me like you’re afraid i’ll vanish. if you stop… i’ll know something’s wrong”

you bite your lip, warmth blooming in your chest

“besides,” he adds, lips brushing your hair, “i’ve grown fond of being your emotional support villain”

you snort “you’re more like an emotional support dragon”

“same thing”

you shift slightly, enough to peek up at him through your lashes “so you won’t get tired of me being clingy?”

he smirks, brushing your hair back “not unless you start following me into the shower”

“i’ve done that before”

“and i had to bribe you out with chocolate”

you grin, smug “you bought my favorite kind”

he rolls his eyes “you’re impossible.”

but then he presses a long, quiet kiss to your temple, and when you melt into him again, he doesn’t complain. doesn’t even pretend to

because the truth is—Sylus likes it. likes you. every stubborn, clingy, affectionate part

and if holding you close is the price for your peace of mind, he’ll let you stay right there for as long as you need

Zayne

Zayne doesn’t look up right away when you wrap your arms around him from behind. he’s seated at his desk, posture perfect, pen gliding across a patient chart with that same practiced precision. his hair falls slightly over his glasses, and the gentle ticking of his desk clock fills the silence of the office

you rest your cheek between his shoulder blades, eyes closed, arms locked snugly around his torso like you might float away if you let go

“you know this is the third time you’ve interrupted me in the last hour,” he says, not turning around “you’ve brought me tea, asked if i liked the scent of your shampoo, and now… this.”

you hum softly “you didn’t answer about the shampoo”

“lavender,” he mutters “i took note the second you walked in”

a small smile curves your lips. he did notice

Zayne sets the pen down at last and exhales, head tilting slightly toward you “i take it you’re feeling clingy again”

“is that a problem?”

he doesn’t respond right away. instead, he reaches for your hand and gently tugs you around to his side. you let him guide you, limbs loose and obedient as he pulls you onto his lap. one of his arms wraps around your waist, the other settles over your hand where it rests on his chest

“if it were a problem,” he says softly “i wouldn’t be holding you right now”

you sigh contentedly and tuck your face into his neck “i missed you”

“i saw you this morning”

“still missed you”

Zayne’s lips curve into the faintest smile “you’ve been unusually attached lately”

you shift slightly “do you want me to stop?”

he’s quiet for a second, then murmurs

“no. not really.”

you lift your head, surprised “really?”

he sighs again, but this time it’s the fond kind—the tired, helpless kind that only comes out when he’s too in love to argue “i’ve been waking up with your arm draped across my chest every night for the past week. i can’t reach for my alarm without peeling you off me. and somehow, i don’t mind”

you look at him with wide eyes “so you like it?”

“i didn’t say that” he adjusts his glasses with one hand “but if you stopped, i’d probably assume you were hiding something”

you frown slightly “i’m not hiding anything”

“then why the sudden surge in affection?”

you hesitate, then quietly say “you’ve been working more hours lately. i just… i don’t want to feel like i’m losing time with you”

his expression softens instantly

“i’m sorry,” he says “i should’ve noticed sooner”

you shake your head “i get it. your patients need you”

“and so do you.”

Zayne leans forward and presses his forehead to yours. his eyes, usually sharp and unreadable, are soft now. tired, yes—but open in a way only you ever get to see

“tell me when you feel like this,” he says gently “don’t just cling. i can handle honesty better than surprise cuddles in the middle of surgery prep”

you laugh under your breath “you did scold me that time”

“because you nearly knocked over an IV stand”

you nuzzle closer “worth it”

he shakes his head but doesn’t push you away. instead, he shifts the chair slightly, pulling a blanket from the side cabinet and draping it over both of you

“i have three more files to go through,” he says “but if you promise not to fall asleep and drool on my tie again, you can stay right here.”

you blink “again?!”

“you think i keep spare ties in my desk for fashion?”

you grin “you secretly love it.”

“i am a man of science,” Zayne replies, deadpan “i don’t love being drooled on”

but he kisses your cheek anyway. warm. soft. and when you rest your head against his chest again, his arms tighten just a little

he lets you stay for the rest of the evening, finishing his files one by one while you curl in his lap like a content cat. and every so often, he pauses—just to run his fingers through your hair, or to press a kiss to your temple, like he needs the reminder too

Caleb

Caleb’s halfway through refueling his aircraft when he hears rapid footsteps behind him—light, familiar ones that don’t belong to any mechanic on the tarmac. he doesn’t need to turn around to know it’s you

“don’t say anything,” you huff, wrapping your arms tight around his waist from behind “just… stand there”

he chuckles under his breath, lowering the nozzle and tilting his head back slightly “that bad of a day, huh?”

“no,” you mumble against his back “i just missed you”

he grins, lips twitching at the corners as he sets the nozzle down and lets his hands rest over yours “you saw me this morning”

“doesn’t count. you left before i was awake”

“technically, i kissed your forehead before i left,” he says, voice playful “that counts for something”

you hug him tighter “i want a do-over”

Caleb turns slowly in your arms, the scent of jet fuel clinging faintly to his jacket. his eyes, that soft violet hue you’ve always loved, lock on yours with warmth and just a hint of mischief

“you’re clingy today” he says with a knowing smile

“is that a problem?”

he leans in a little, brows raised “have i ever said no to you clinging?”

you look up at him, teasing “you get smug about it”

“because i like it,” he says, pulling you in without hesitation “i like that you want to be close. that you run straight to me when you’re feeling needy”

you bury your face in his jacket “i’m not needy”

“you literally followed me to the plane, mid-shift, and clung to me like a baby koala”

you pout “are you calling me a koala now?”

he laughs and lifts you slightly off the ground in a warm, secure hug, spinning you in a slow circle despite the busy hangar

“a very cute koala,” he murmurs “with a death grip”

you hum contentedly, resting your chin on his shoulder “i just didn’t feel like being alone today”

he immediately softens at that, arms wrapping tighter around you

“you never have to be.”

“but you’re always working”

“so are you,” he says, brushing your hair back gently “and yet, here you are, glued to me in the middle of a military-grade launch pad. not exactly subtle”

“you love it”

“of course i do”

his voice lowers a little, quieter against the sound of nearby aircraft and voices

“i think about you all the time when i’m flying,” he confesses “when i hit turbulence, when the sky goes quiet, when the alarms go off in my headset… you’re the one i think of. and then when i land, i hope you’re here”

you blink, caught off guard by how soft he’s being “you do?”

he nods, gaze never leaving yours “every time”

you smile into his chest “then maybe i should start hiding in your cockpit”

he snorts “you’d get arrested”

“you’d bail me out”

“yeah,” he says without hesitation “i would.”

you stay there for a while, wrapped in him, ignoring the curious glances of nearby engineers. Caleb doesn’t care. he never does. even when his superiors are around, even when he’s supposed to be the strict Colonel on duty—when it comes to you, his arms are always open

“how long until you take off?” you ask, voice small

“forty minutes”

you tug on his jacket sleeve “stay with me ‘til then?”

he doesn’t even hesitate “you got it.”

he guides you over to the edge of the hangar, where the sun hits the floor in golden beams. you sit together, shoulder to shoulder, legs stretched out, your head resting against his. the world keeps moving—pilots shouting, aircraft humming—but in that little moment, everything feels still

Caleb intertwines your fingers with his

“you can be clingy all you want,” he murmurs “i signed up for that the moment i fell in love with you”

you squeeze his hand “what if i’m clingy forever?”

he grins “then i guess you’re stuck with me forever too.”

Rafayel

Rafayel’s house is bathed in warm light, the windows cracked open just enough to let in the city breeze. classical music plays softly from hidden speakers, the scent of white tea and citrus lingering in the air. he’s lounging on his favorite cream-colored couch, wearing a silk robe loosely tied over a half-buttoned shirt, swirling a glass of wine in one hand while reading something on his holo-tablet

and you? you’re practically draped over him like a second robe

“you’re heavy,” he drawls, though there’s absolutely zero heat in his voice “are you attempting to fuse with me?”

you bury your face into his chest “maybe”

he sighs—dramatically, as always—and sets his tablet aside “is this how it’s going to be now? i can’t even sip my wine without being used as a human mattress?”

you peek up at him, pouting “don’t act like you don’t love it”

he raises a perfectly shaped brow, eyes flicking down to where your legs are tangled with his

“i love many things. vintage wines, rare artifacts, silk pillows… and, unfortunately for me, you”

you grin, not the least bit offended “so i can stay here?”

he exhales, then tilts your chin up with one finger “i would sooner burn this apartment to the ground than move you”

you blink “…romantic”

“i try”

you stay quiet for a moment, tracing absent shapes on his chest through his shirt. he watches you for a beat, then softly asks “what’s this about, dove?”

you glance away “i just missed you.”

he hums “you saw me two hours ago.”

“i still missed you.”

his hand finds your hair, long fingers combing through it gently “you’ve been a bit… clingier than usual”

you wince “too much?”

he snorts “please. if i didn’t enjoy it, do you think you’d still be breathing right now?”

you laugh, muffled against him

he brushes a kiss to the top of your head “i’m not complaining, darling. i’m simply curious. your usual clinginess is adorable—this level borders on concerning”

you don’t answer right away, just sink further into his embrace like the answer’s hidden somewhere in his heartbeat

he softens, all teasing gone from his voice “talk to me”

“i had a dream,” you finally say “that you left”

he frowns “left how?”

“just… disappeared. no note, no goodbye. i woke up and you weren’t there, and it felt so real”

Rafayel is silent for a moment. then, he slides his glass onto the side table and pulls you into his lap properly, wrapping his arms around you with rare, unguarded tenderness

“i’m not going anywhere,” he says “you’d have to banish me yourself. even then, i’d find my way back”

“what if you got bored of me?”

he scoffs “impossible. you’re chaos in a pretty package. and you cling to me like ivy. how could i ever get bored?”

“some people don’t like clingy”

“those people have no taste”

you laugh again, and Rafayel leans in to kiss the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then your forehead. his lips linger there, his breath warm and steady

“do you know how many people want my attention?” he murmurs “and how few actually have it?”

you nod slowly “a lot. and almost none.”

he smiles “exactly. you’re not just the exception. you’re the rule-breaker. you cling, and i let you. you pout, and i cave. you crawl into my lap during my very important wine therapy session, and instead of throwing you off—I hold you tighter”

you blink “…that might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said”

“don’t get used to it”

“too late”

he chuckles and lets his head fall back against the couch, arms still snug around you. you curl up there, completely content, as the music shifts to something slower, more intimate

“stay here tonight,” he says softly “cling all you want. hell, cling in your sleep. drool on my robe. claim me like a pillow. i’ll allow it.”

“you’re spoiling me”

“no,” he says, kissing your temple again “i’m keeping you.”

Xavier

Xavier’s apartment is dim and quiet, lit mostly by the flicker of neon lights outside the window. the soft hum of rain hits the glass, steady and calming. he’s stretched out on the couch in an oversized hoodie, one arm draped behind his head, the other flipping lazily through a book he’s already read twice. every few pages, his eyes flick down to the weight pressed against his side

you.

curled up against him like a second blanket, arms wrapped around his torso, cheek smushed into his chest. you haven’t said much, just let out a satisfied sigh every now and then like you’re recharging on physical contact alone

“you’ve been stuck to me all night” he murmurs, voice quiet but amused

“i know,” you mumble “i’m comfy”

he glances down at you “clingy today, huh?”

“a little.”

he closes the book with one hand and sets it aside “you were clingy this morning. and this afternoon. and when i tried to go take a shower”

you lift your head slightly “you still went”

“yeah. with you sitting on the sink counter like some judgmental little gremlin watching my every move”

“someone had to make sure you didn’t slip”

he huffs a laugh, but it’s warm. he reaches over and brushes your hair out of your face with the tips of his fingers, his touch careful—almost hesitant, like he still can’t believe you let him do this. like he still feels lucky every time

“you gonna tell me what’s going on?” he asks softly

you blink “what do you mean?”

“this level of clinginess usually has a reason. not that i mind,” he adds quickly “just… you’re usually a little more subtle”

you hesitate, then bury your face back into his hoodie. it smells like clean laundry and something distinctly him—cold metal, warm skin, and comfort

“i just missed you” you say into the fabric

“you saw me yesterday.”

“i know. i still missed you.”

Xavier is quiet for a moment. you can feel the way his chest rises and falls under your cheek, steady and calm

“okay” he says

you blink “okay?”

“yeah” his arm wraps around you, pulling you a little closer “if you missed me, then this is where you belong.”

you tilt your head up to look at him “you’re really letting me get away with this?”

he smirks “getting away with it implies i’d ever stop you”

“you’ve definitely tried before”

“yeah, and every time you look at me like i just kicked a puppy”

“you hate it when i do that”

“obviously,” he mutters “you weaponize your pretty face”

“you love my face”

he rolls his eyes, but there’s a soft flush on his cheeks “unfortunately.”

you smile and cuddle back into him. the rain continues tapping against the window, and the sound of his heartbeat fills your ears, steady and grounding. he runs his fingers gently up and down your spine, over the fabric of your hoodie, the rhythm almost hypnotic

“you can be clingy whenever you want,” he murmurs “just give me a heads-up if you plan to fuse with my ribcage”

you snort “no promises”

“figured”

you both go quiet again for a while. he shifts a little to reach for the remote, flipping the TV on low—just soft background noise, some slow documentary you’re not really watching. the screen casts a gentle glow over both of you, and his thumb traces little circles on your arm

“you know,” he says after a moment “i used to think i needed a lot of space”

“you still do”

“yeah. but… i don’t mind when it’s you taking it”

your heart stutters “you mean that?”

“i wouldn’t say it if i didn’t” he pauses “you make it easier. being around you doesn’t feel like noise. it feels like… quiet. the kind of quiet i don’t want to end”

you stay silent, overwhelmed for a second. then you shift up just enough to press a kiss to his jaw. his skin is warm, and you feel him freeze, then relax under the touch

“i love you, Xavier”

he doesn’t say it back right away—but you’ve learned not to expect it from him every time. not because he doesn’t feel it, but because he shows it more than he says it. and right now, he’s holding you like the world could fall apart and he wouldn’t notice as long as you were still in his arms

“…i know,” he murmurs eventually “and i love you, too. now stop moving. you’re warm”

you smile, eyes closing “fine. i’ll stay. forever.”

“good,” he whispers “i was hoping you would.”

Weight

Summary: Xavier has a nightmare that disturbs both of you (1.5k words, angst (flangst maybe?) Xavier x gn!Reader

a/n: i've read this too many times now to be happy with it lol so here we go! and it's the first piece over 600 words i've actually published in nearly 4 years! yay! (please help me out with a title lol)

"Xav!" your whisper is harsher than intended and edged with frustration. It's difficult to make the vowels and consonants of his name softer when you've spent the last forty minutes trying to rouse him.

You wriggle slightly in an attempt to stretch your back and hips without disturbing him too much as he lays in your lap. Your back has started to ache and it's too dark now to comfortably read the text on the page in front of you. Xavier's book rests open on his chest like an injured bird, rising and falling with his breaths. You want to stand, get a glass of water and turn on the lamp behind you at least, but Xavier is slumbering too deeply to react at all.

You'd tried every tick in the book once you'd established he was actually sound asleep - it's a rare thing for him to let his guard down so completely. Even in the comfort of your own homes, Xavier was always just below the tide of consciousness- alert enough to bolt if necessary but relaxed enough to recharge like a fox napping in the midsummer sun. Disarming. Charming. Dangerous.

You'd jostled him gently, then a bit rougher. Cooed every variation of his name and nicknames. You'd even played dirty - pretending to both phone for a takeaway hot pot and to invite Caleb round to share it. Neither strategy had worked and Xavier's expression remained smooth and his breathing even.

"Xavier," you try again, one last time sweet and sing-song like a dawn chorus. You think it's working as his chest stutters on the inhale and his eyelids flicker. But it doesn't. His expression darkens instead ike an oncoming storm - brows pulling together, lips turning down and his hands start to twitch, the tendons coiling and flexing. A frown pulls at your own lips, concern begining to thread through your irritation. Xavier doesn't dream - or so he tells you - and he certainly doesn't get nightmares.

He starts mumbling then, half sentences and misfired words sounding vaguely like 'go' and 'leave'. You've never known him to talk in his sleep, let alone start thrashing. The spasms in his fingers have escalated to full body twitching, thighs tensing and untensing, fists white-knuckling. His chest rises and falls far quicker than it had been less than two minutes ago, verging on hyperventilation. Your own heart starts hammering.

The room is blanketed in a rich navy as blue hour nears its end. Xavier's features, like the finer details of the room, are lost in the murk. You call his name again, trying to suppress the panic creeping through you as his calls grow stronger, expression sterner and sentences more coherent.

You lean forward slightly, to look down over him. Xavier's face distorts, closed eyes narrowning, teeth bared at the nightmare - at you.

You push your hands gently but firmly into his shoulders,as you had done half an hour earlier. An attempt to ground him - bring him back to the land of the living. Your own heartbeat continues to rise and your breath quickens, nearly mirroring the heaving of his chest. Short, sharp inhales and incomplete exhales. Lungs never fully empty nor full in the strange, overwhleming confusion anxiety brings.

You're releived it's his upper torso on you lap and not his legs which are now flailing wildly, kicking visciously. The book on his chest falls to the carpet with a thump, white pages splayed and bent like broken wings. Your hold doesn't work instead it makes him writhe more, voice raising and the words becoming clearer, more commanding pleas. You think you hear a "don't leave me" over the rush of blood in your ears.

Desperation tightens its grip. You just want him to wake up.

Your instincts are fraying.

Something is telling you to shove him off you and run. Run far and quick away from here, away from Xavier and don't look back.

You let go of his shoulders and bring your shaking hands to his face. Cupping it gently and brushing hair back off his forehead, damp with perspiration. It's Xavier, he wouldn't hurt you - consciously or not, you reason. Something primal whispers doubt into your heart.

There's light pooling in Xavier's hands.

Blood drains from your face and your stomach plummets. He's seconds away from drawing his blade.

Wouldn't he? it purrs again.

"Xavier!" you say once more, voice high and thin. You push into his shoulders with enough force to bruise th eimprint of his shoulder blades into the flesh of your thighs.

It works.

He shoots upwards, cresting the wave of wakefulness. You jerk away as he reaches, unseeing into darkness behind your head, bellowing -

"Don't!"

- and the room burns.

Bright, blinding and white hot before it dims just as quickly. Shattering glass rains down as quietly as a caress. The filaments overheating and exploding, one after another until all that remains is the singular floor lamp at the back of the room. It casts disturbing shadows across Xavier, still in your lap. The light hits him wrong. Hits him at dangerous angles - his more delicate feature still shrouded in gloom. Your pulse doesn't slow.

You blink once, twice, three times against the sudden luminosity and stark murk. Partly, too, to earse the look in Xavier's eyes. They're wild and wide, an ominous glow against the indigo room.

His chest chest heaves, breaths ragged and the only noise beyond the buzz of static. Your own chest has stalled. You don't dare inhale. He's looking at you without recognition, a preadator snarling at prey. A chill skitters up your spine and out to the fingers still fisted in his hoodie. Your mouth dries.

You're in danger, the traitourous part of you croons.

You move to shove him off your lap and vault the sofa, cramps and numbness long forgotten. But Xavier's faster than you. Faster than light itself and he's straddling you now. His weight settles over your pelvis, thighs pressing against your own.

He reaches for your face. Alarm surges up inside you once again, and you can't summon the rational part of you, the part that knows bone deep that Xavier would rather fall on his sword than harm you. It must have slipped from you when the lightbulbs exploded, like a spooked animal. You're too light headed and the blood is surging in your ears.

You feel a bit like you're floating - the switch from a relaxing evening to a high-stress moment leaving you strung-out. Both of your chests are heaving and you finally notice his hands are chilled and trembling against your cheeks, unconciously and despite everything, you lean into the touch. You force a deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth, releasing the white-knuckle grip of his hoodie. The fabric holds the indents of your grip where it's been scrunched and stretched. They hang limply by your side, unsure if you should touch him.

"You-I-yo-" Xavier stammers, "-you left me."

It's not an accusation, but it should be. His voice shakes and he swallows thickly. His eyes are softer now but still wide and wet with tears. He tilts your face this way and that with a touch so reverant it's alien to the previous moments. He's leaning forward, head tilted down to examine you properly, as if he were doubting your presence, checking you aren't about to slip through his fingers.

It's quiet for a moment.

The weightless feeling ebbs. You take one of his hands in yours and guide it to rest over your heart. So he can feel the rhythm as it steadies, proof that it's still beating. That you're still here, at home with him - even if you are still reeling from the adrenaline surge. The action grounds you as well. It's your Xavier, of course nothing would have happened, even if he hadn't woken when he did.

"You're still here," he breathes. His hands are still trembling but his breathing has settled. His gaze roves your face, one had still wrapped in yours.

"Yeah," you clear your throat, shifting beneath him, "I'm still here, Xav." You school a small smile onto your lips. The shadows seem less hostile now, the sole lamp casting a warm buttery glow over him, marigold against forget-me-not. Blue skies and an orange sunset after a tempest. The light twinkles where it catches the powder-fine glass coating the floors and fabrics of your home. There's some glittering in Xavier's hair.

"Good." He sags against you like a puppet with its strings cut. Head slumping into the space between your neck and shoulder, breathing against your pulse point. His arms snake up your back and over your shoulders, pulling you impossibly close. His breath shudders once more and something warm drips onto your exposed skin, then again and agian. Any instinct to flee has be smothered, how could you ever have considered that Xavier would hurt you? The same Xavier sobbing into your arms following a nightmare. A nightmare where you had left him no less. You bring your own arms up to wrap around him.

It's not particularly comfortable - Xavier is nearly folded in half to tuck himself up into you while still straddling your lap. You run a hand through the hair at his nape and hold him. Soothe him. Soothe yourself, too, with whispers and promises pressed into his ashen hair.

"It's okay, Xav. You're okay. I'm okay. 'M not gonna leave you." A promise. A curse. A lie. A truth. An oath.

how the boys would react when you have a migraine

woke up with a headache today, which wasn't fun, and had these ideas of how the lads boys would react if their love was suffering through a migraine. I get them a lot and I know people who get them even worse than me. anyways, this is the first time writing for some of these guys, so I hope they're not too ooc lol

Part I: Xavier (you/MC x Xavier)

It was a quiet day at work, one mainly just in the office, which you were grateful for. Only a couple minutes after you clocked in, you began to feel the dull pounding of a headache coming on. It hadn't been anything too bad at first. You took some painkillers to see if it would go away. But now, as you were staring at your computer screen, the headache wasn't going away but getting worse. It was beginning to feel like a heavy hammer was drumming on top of your skull in a dull, rhythmic motion. The pills weren't helping at all.

Then it happened. As you squinted at the blurry words on your screen, sudden bright lights flashed in your eyes. You looked away from the computer, tried to blink a couple of times, but they persisted, and the pain got worse. All you could do was hunch over your desk with your eyes squeezed shut.

"Hey, you okay?"

Xavier's soft, baritone voice came up beside you. You squinted up to see him standing there in his Hunter's uniform, watching you with obvious concern. You would usually shrug off the pain, say it's nothing, but not this time.

"Migraine." Is all you managed to get out. You held your head in your hands.

"Hm."

You glanced up at what seemed like a noncommittal response from him, only to see him walking away and towards the Captain's office. A few minutes later, he came back and laid a hand on your shoulder.

"I got the okay from the Captain. Come on, let me take you home."

"You didn't have to do that. I was gonna get up and ask in a minute..." you muttered, even though you felt relief wash over you. No matter how much you wanted to act tough, you knew you were no good to anyone with this migraine.

"It's fine. Besides, I know how bad your migraines can get. Here, let me help you."

He gently took hold of your hand to help you up. You were going to tell him you could walk by yourself when a wave of dizziness hit you. Fortunately, Xavier was there with a supportive hand on your back to make sure you didn't stumble.

"I'm right here. I won't let you fall."

The two of you left the Hunter's Association building and headed to the station. It was a sunny day out, which didn't help the throbbing pain in your head. You couldn't help but let out a quiet groan and placed your hand over your eyes.

"Here. Wear these." Xavier gently removed your hand and placed sunglasses over your eyes. With an arm around your waist, he led you to the station gate and got your card out of your bag to help you pass through the gate.

On the train, he led you to one of the seats and you slowly lowered yourself down onto one. The train, the people, everything was all so loud, they made you visibly wince. Xavier noticed right away, of course, and pulled out a pair of headphones you didn't know he carried with him.

"They're noise-cancelling headphones," he told you. "They might help." He placed them over your ears and through the dim shades of the sunglasses, you watched as he took off his outer coat and rolled it up.

"Lift your head a little," he softly told you. When you obeyed, he placed the folded clothing behind you against the window. It was a little makeshift pillow for you to rest your head upon.

"There. Just close your eyes. I'll let you know when we're at our stop."

You couldn't help but smile a little at how thoughtful he was being. As you tried to rest while on the train, you began to hear what sounded like white noise coming over the headphones. It was soothing. You heaved a deep breath and tried to relax as best you could while still being on the train. Xavier stood over you, watching you to make sure you were okay.

When you arrived at your stop, he let you know when it was time to get off and stayed with you on the way back to the apartment. The aura was not as bad as it had been at work, but you still could see a small orb in your vision that was messing with your eyes. You still also felt a little dizzy and leaned upon Xavier as you both rode the elevator to your floor.

"You're not going back to work, Xavier?" You asked as he punched in the code to your apartment.

"No," he answered. "I'm staying with you."

"You don't have to," you said, even though you were inwardly happy that he would be with you.

He smiled and squeezed your hand. "I want to take care of you. Come on, go get changed and lie down. I'll make you some tea."

Xavier struggled with cooking, but you had shown him the easiest way to make tea, and he wasn't too bad at it. You had to stress the importance of watching the stove, but after that, he had shown improvement. You could hear the sound of the tea kettle whistling as you changed into some comfy clothes and slid under your covers. The whistling sound didn't help the ache in your head, but you tried to ignore it.

Your room was dark, but not dark enough and the dim light was enough to make your eyes ache. You pulled the covers over your head and curled up into a ball, gripping the blankets. This is how Xavier found you when he entered the bedroom with a mug of warm tea. He gently set the mug on the side table, and you felt the mattress dip when he sat down beside you.

"Is your migraine still pretty bad?" He asked softly.

"Yeah," you answer.

"I'll make it darker in here."

You had blackout curtains in case a migraine like this hit you, and he tugged them together to cover up your windows the best he could. He then shut the door and unplugged the alarm clock so even that wouldn't shine any light. Even under your blankets, you could tell the room was much darker than before.

Xavier then pulled out his phone and again you could hear the low sound of white noise softly fill the room. Just like when he played it on the train, it was just enough to soothe you and didn't make your migraine worsen.

Xavier slightly pulled the covers aside to slide into bed beside you. You barely opened your eyes to see him next to you under the blankets. He gave you a soft smile and reached out to gently massage your neck.

"Try to sleep," he whispered. "When you wake up, I'll warm up the tea and we'll make something good to eat. You should also take some medicine again."

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Wrapping your arms around him, you nuzzled into his chest and closed your eyes.

"Thanks, Xavier."

Before you drifted off, you felt him rub your back and softly kiss the top of your head.

"You're welcome, star light."