#i just need to write caleb and rafayel's next

[adeptustemptations]

How do you think caleb or any of the others lads guys would react to their wife lactating? 👀 do you think that they'd be down to try it? I love your writing!! 💗💗

Honey, is that...? 🍼

(wc. 2.1k) How would the LADS boys react when they spot you, their wife, lactating?

featuring: rafayel x reader, sylus x reader, caleb x reader, zayne x reader, xavier x reader (all separate) warnings: mild smut, mdni.

a/n: first request down! i definitely think all of the boys would be down to try it LOL. i had so much fun writing this. hope you guys enjoy! c:

🧜 RAFAYEL:

At first, you think Rafayel’s being moody because of something work related. Probably just something about him not getting inspiration for his next piece.

He's quiet during dinner, pushing his food around with the fork, glancing at you between bites but saying nothing. Then he sighs. Dramatically. Like you’ve just told him the love of his life is marrying someone else.

“Do you need the tub prepared?” you ask, gently patting the baby's mouth with a cloth as your baby drifts off to sleep, full and milk-drunk in your arms.

He shrugs. “No.”

Another sigh. Even more dramatic this time.

You narrow your eyes. “Okay, what’s wrong with you?”

Silence.

You put the baby down in the bassinet, tiptoeing back to the couch where he’s brooding like a man personally victimized by your child. You sit beside him and poke his thigh.

“Rafayel. Talk.”

He doesn’t answer at first. Just shifts in his seat dramatically, like you should already know why he’s in a mood.

You raise a brow. “Raf?”

“…Why does he get to taste it?” he finally mutters.

You blink. “What?”

Rafayel lifts his gaze, eyes narrowed. “Your milk. The baby gets all of it. Meanwhile, I, your husband, don’t even get to try?”

You stare at him, baffled, amused, a little turned on by how offended he looks.

He shifts closer suddenly, tone softening like he’s trying to guilt you.

 “You used to let me suck on them all the time,” he mumbles, voice pitiful. “Now I get nothing.”

“Rafayel Qi,” you say, laughing despite yourself. “You’re jealous of your own child?”

“He doesn’t even appreciate it,” Rafayel huffs dramatically. “He’s just... drinking. No compliments. No praise. No loving gaze. No eye contact.” He places a hand over his heart. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

“You want to flirt with my boobs while I’m nursing?”

He nods solemnly. “And after.”

You blink. “Raf.”

“No, no, go ahead. Ignore me. That’s fine.” He gestures grandly, flopping back on the couch like a neglected kid in a drama. 

“I mean, I get it,” Rafayel huffs, gesturing vaguely toward the baby now blissfully passed out at the bassinet. “He needs it. It’s nourishment. Bonding. Blah blah. But like, what about me? A stranger in my own marriage.”

You roll your eyes. “Then ask.”

He freezes. Turns to you slowly.

“…Seriously?”

You nod. “If you’re that curious, then fine. Go ahead.”

Wasting no moment, he immediately latches onto you, and his reaction is instant. His eyes roll back. A full-body shudder.

He suckles on your nipple with the eagerness of a thirsty man who had just found water after days of being dehydrated. When a bit of milk manages to escape from the side? He immediately laps it up, wasting no drop.

He pulls back, breathless. Dazed. “...Fuck."

Then he smirks.

“Alright. New plan. Let’s have six more kids.”

You shove him off the couch.

🐦‍⬛ SYLUS:

Everyone in the N109 Zone knows that Sylus doesn’t kneel.

He doesn’t plead.

He doesn’t repeat himself.

He doesn’t need to.

He gives orders, and people obey. His name alone strikes fear into civilians and corrupt officials alike. He's the kind of man who takes what he wants, and everyone bends at his will.

But you?

You’re the one thing he never commands.

Because with you, he never wants to.

And right now? He’s at your feet.

Literally.

It starts when you’re in the privacy of your home, in a soft robe, curled on the couch with your baby fast asleep in the bassinet. You’re drowsy and glowing, eyes heavy from the feeding, your robe slipping just slightly to reveal a glistening patch where you’ve started to leak again.

Sylus was reading some documents, possibly just about a new batch of weapons shipped to one of his armories. All that boring stuff. When he looks at you, his eyes immediately zero to your chest.

He freezes.

The documents clattered to the ground. 

You glance at him, confused. “Sylus?”

But he’s already closing the space between you. You see it, the desire in his eyes as he kneels before you, palms on your thighs, breath hot and uneven.

“Please.”

His voice is hoarse. Ragged. Barely a whisper.

You blink. “Huh?”

“I need to taste you, sweetie.” He says it like it physically hurts to admit, jaw clenched. 

“Can I try? Please?”

Your breath hitches. “Sylus—”

“I never beg,” he murmurs, leaning forward, brushing his lips against the skin of your breast. “But I’ll get on my knees for this. For you.”

He doesn’t ask again.

Just lowers his mouth to your breast and licks. The moment the white liquid hits his tongue, everything changes.

His lips part in stunned disbelief. Then, he groans, deep and guttural, like you just unlocked something feral in him.

“You taste sweet,” he rasps. He’s already latching on you again, open-mouthed, greedy. 

“Fuck. You taste better than anything.”

You gasp, clutching at his shoulders as he begins to devour you. There’s nothing classy about the way he sucks at you–it’s messy, hungry, possessive. Like he’s waited his whole life for this and didn’t even know it.

You try to say something, to make a joke; “You’re worse than the baby.”

But Sylus growls into your skin, low and dark: “I’ll give you another one. I’ll fill you up again, if that’s what it takes to keep you like this.”

Your breath stutters. “Sylus—”

“No one else gets this. No one else gets to taste you like this.” He presses his palm to your womb. “You hear me? Only me.”

And you believe him. Because when Sylus Qin finds something he likes?

He gets it.

🍎 CALEB:

It starts with the panties.

Caleb thinks he’s subtle about it. Volunteering to do your laundry in the pretense that he 'just wants to help', setting aside a pair that smells like you, worn, soft, intimate. The design doesn't matter too, the one with lace? Spectacular. The cotton ones he bought with the apple patterns? Give him 14 of them right now. He tells himself it’s harmless, just something to keep close when you're gone on long shifts or too tired to stay up with him after work from the Hunter's Association.

When you've caught him in the act, all he does is raise an eyebrow, as if you're the one being strange.

“What?” he says, with that deadpan tone of his, nose still pressed into the fabric. “You smell nice.”

You should be flustered, but you’ve been married to this man long enough to know how weirdly intense he can be. It's part of the Caleb experience. When you tried scolding him because some of your pairs have gone missing, all he does is shoot you his signature puppy-eyed look.

But then after giving birth to your baby, everything changes. Your underwear drawer's surprisingly complete, and none of the pairs have gone missing. You'd think that maybe Caleb had just become too busy tending to the baby to even focus on his needs.

But what you don't notice is how his touches linger longer during nighttime cuddles, especially around your chest, or the way he glances at your shirt when it dampens just a little.

It happens when you’re fresh out of the shower. You're drying your hair, not noticing at first that the front of your shirt is damp. A few minutes later, you glance down and–

Oh.

You’re leaking.

“Caleb?" you call out, not thinking much of it, “I think I’m lactating again. I forgot to pump.”

You don’t expect a reaction. You expect him to say something like, ‘Want me to grab the pump?’

What you don’t expect is for Caleb to freeze in the doorway, eyes locked on the wet patch spreading across the fabric.

“...Again?” he says quietly.

You blink at him. “Yeah? That’s usually how it works.”

His eyes narrow, his jaw clenches, and before you can respond, he’s across the room, pushing your shirt up to your chest with eagerness, hunger glinting in those beautiful purple eyes.

“Let me taste.”

Your brain short circuits. “Wha–Caleb–?”

But he’s already there, lips closing around your nipple, hand firmly planted at your waist like he owns you.

And when he moans? You swear it’s the dirtiest sound he’s ever made.

He drinks like he’s been deprived. Like this was what he needed all along, and nothing else compares. Not the panties. Not your bath soap. Not even the taste of your skin.

No–this. This is divine. This is yours.

Later, when you're sprawled on the bed, dazed and breathless, he kisses your stomach and murmurs softly:

"Maybe we should have another baby. Just so you don't run out."

You laugh. “You're a freak.”

“I’m serious.”

He looks up at you, utterly sincere, eyes dark with something that’s not quite lust–it’s obsession, devotion, need.

And you know then: he’s addicted.

Not just to you.

But to every part of you.

☃️ ZAYNE:

You already knew Zayne had a problem with sweets.

The bakery receipts stuffed in his lab coat. The way he always “accidentally” wanders into the dessert section at the grocery store. The time he got bribed by Dr. Greyson with macarons.

But this?

You hadn’t seen coming.

It starts innocently enough; he’s helping you undress after a long day, brushing his fingers along the curve of your side as he unclasps your bra. You’re a few weeks postpartum, still sore and soft in all the ways he loves. He’s kneeling in front of you, peppering lazy kisses along your stomach when he notices the damp spot on your breast.

"Hmm?" He hums, brows furrowing. He leans in closer.

"You're leaking."

You sigh. “Yeah. I forgot to pump again. I’ll go get–”

“No,” Zayne cuts in, already cupping your breast in his hand. “Let me.”

“Zayne–!”

But he’s already latched on before you can finish, mouth closing around you like it’s second nature.

The first taste hits him like a drug.

His eyes widen.

Then flutter shut.

He moans. Actually moans. Like he just took a bite out of the best dessert of his life.

“Dearest,” he breathes when he finally pulls back, his lips still wet. “Why didn’t you tell me it tastes like this?”

You blink, a little dazed. “Like… what?”

He licks his lips. “Sweet. Warm...”

Then his gaze flicks up, dark and hungry. “Better than any dessert I've ever tasted.”

Your face flushes. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” he says, already nudging you backward onto the bed, crawling over you with sinful intent. “But you married me.”

And just like that, he’s latched on again, slow, thorough, absolutely obsessed. Like he’s savoring every drop. Like you’re his final meal, and he’s a man who’s starved.

When he finally pulls away, lips wet and pupils blown wide, he looks like he’s come undone.

Then, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, he mutters:

“…I think I need to adjust my meal plan.”

You raise a brow. “You’re joking.”

He shakes his head, dead serious. “You’re my new dessert. Effective immediately.”

⭐ XAVIER:

It’s still dark out when Xavier stirs beside you.

He wakes like he always does. Quiet, warm, arms automatically reaching for your sleeping form. He pulls you close, breath brushing on your neck, his hand splaying across your waist under the covers.

That’s when he notices it.

A damp spot on your shirt. Right over your chest. You’re on your side, curled towards him, unaware.

He blinks once. Then twice. Brain still foggy from sleep.

But then he leans closer, nose brushing against the fabric, breathing in the scent that’s distinctly you. Warm and milky. Sweet.

Something stirs in him. Not lust, something gentler. Deeper.

An ache in his chest he can’t explain. Like he wants to be closer, somehow. Like he needs to feel it. Taste it.

He shifts beneath the blankets, carefully nudging the neckline of your shirt down. He presses a kiss just above your nipple, reverent, before wrapping his lips softly around it.

You stir, eyelids fluttering. “...Xavi?” you murmur, voice gravelly with sleep.

“Mm,” he hums against your skin, mouth still lazily suckling. “Just helping.”

You blink blearily at him. “That’s… not how the pump works.”

“Don’t care,” he whispers. “Tastes better this way.”

You huff a soft laugh, too tired to scold him, too warm to care. “You’re unbelievable.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his dark hair tousled, eyes still heavy lidded. 

“It’s comforting,” he says simply, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “You’re comforting.”

And with that, he tucks himself back into your arms, head resting on your chest, one hand lazily cupping your breast. You feel the occasional soft suckle as he drifts off again, slow and rhythmic, like a baby himself.

You close your eyes.

The room is quiet. The baby’s still asleep. And for now... just for now, there’s no need to move.

You both fall back into sleep, tangled together, Warm, safe, and full.

—

[MASTERLIST]

[sharieb]

hello! just wanted to say I LOVEEE the way you do non-mc content. that being said could i request a headcanon on: lets say non-mc and the LI’s broke up because the dudes were still hung up on MC (they end up regretting it lol). then later on see non-mc in public who has moved on to someone else who is doing everything they guys failed to do.

The One Who Never Got It Right

Pairing: LADs x Non-Mc reader Genre: Angst (Breakup regrets) Writer's notes: Thought I could be getting more fluffs to do, but instead I got slapped in the face with this one, welp, no rest for the wicked, I guess 😅

He sees you across the bustling Skyhaven terminal—laughing, radiant, clinging to the arm of someone who isn’t him.

The man by your side is kind-eyed, attentive. He holds your bag, listens intently, and actually smiles when you talk. He doesn’t look distracted or distant—he’s there. Present.

Caleb halts mid-stride, fingers curling around the edge of his datapad. For a moment, it’s like the mission debrief in his hand doesn’t even exist.

He remembers every time he cut conversations short, gave you half his presence, let you walk beside him in silence because his mind was always elsewhere—on MC.

He thought you didn’t notice. That you’d wait. That maybe you’d always be around until he figured himself out.

Now you’re smiling in ways he never earned.

The worst part? You glance his way. See him. Then look away just as easily, returning to your conversation without missing a beat.

He used to be the safe place. Now, he's just a distant name in your past.

Later that night, he types a message to you. Deletes it. Writes it again.

In the end, he just stares at your contact photo for hours, then shuts off the holoscreen. And for the first time in a long time, Caleb can’t strategise his way out of the ache in his chest.

Mission Log 6.14.3A — Deleted Draft I saw her today. Not MC. Her. The one who asked me to be present. To try. To stop living like the past was all I had left. I thought letting her go would make me noble. Thought I was sparing her the weight of being second to a ghost. But maybe she wasn’t second. Maybe I just never gave her the space to be first. And someone else did. I hope he keeps holding her the way I never learned how to. I hope he never makes her feel like a placeholder. …I hope she never looks back.

He saw you at a gallery opening.

You're dressed in something elegant, arm-in-arm with a gentle-faced man who looks at you like you're art incarnate.

The moment hits him like a palette knife to the ribs.

You’re glowing—not in a spotlight way, but in a quiet, contented kind of joy he never could give.

He flashes his usual grin to the crowd, but his fingers twitch at his side.

Because of that new guy? He’s whispering something in your ear. And you’re laughing. That laugh used to belong to Rafayel, once.

But he made jokes about still missing MC. Let you hear silence when you needed security. Let you fade beside someone else’s memory.

Now?

Someone else painting you with attention. Frames you with love.

He downs his champagne and pretends to care about the next exhibit, but he draws you three times from memory that night.

None of them capture your smile the way he just did.

He doesn’t stop drawing until dawn. Each page is more desperate than the last.

 Sketchbook Entry — Page Torn Out She asked me once what I thought love looked like. I told her it was impossible to capture - always shifting, always out of reach. But she caught it. She was it. And I? I framed her in glass and called it finished. She wanted a mess. Partnership. Splattered hands and stained shirts. I gave her monologues and empty wine glasses. I thought she was a phase. A warm red before I returned to ash. But she was permanent. I saw her smile today. It wasn’t for me. And for once, I couldn’t paint a damn thing.

He was leaning on the railing of a shadowed walkway, scanning the crowd below on a recon run, when he spotted you.

You're tucked into the side of someone unfamiliar—someone laughing with you, their hand laced with yours, feeding you a bite of something sweet.

The softness on your face is devastating. It used to be his. It was once the only softness he’d let himself keep.

He stays hidden, watching.

That guy kisses your knuckles. And you smile like you trust him completely.

His chest tightens, fingers twitching. He almost drops the comms unit in his hand.

You’d begged him once to try, to stop comparing you to MC. To see you. He hadn’t known how to let go back then. Now?

He’s thinking about how that man just wiped whipped cream from your lip without flinching—and how he never even learned your coffee order.

“Idiot,” he mutters to himself, pushing off the railing.

But he doesn’t go down there. He’s already done enough damage.

And this time… someone else didn’t waste the chance. He hates it. He admires it.

Mostly, he regrets that it wasn’t him who made you stay.

Encrypted Voice Log – Never Sent SYLUS.ENTRY_097.BURNOUT Timestamp: Corrupted “She looks better without me. You’d think that’d piss me off, wouldn’t you?” “It doesn’t.” “Not really.” “He holds her like he’s not afraid she’ll disappear. Like he’s not too busy sharpening knives to hold her with both hands.” “I didn’t know how to do that. Couldn’t stop chasing shadows.” “I told myself she was a game. A way to forget.” “But she was never small. Never temporary. She waited for me to look up. I never did.” “He did.” [long pause] “She’s not coming back. Good. Let her stay gone. Let her stay whole.”

It’s late in the museum observatory, and Xavier’s here to recalibrate a projection model—until he looks down from the upper dome and sees you.

You're walking hand-in-hand with someone else through the starlit halls. Laughing. Calm.

The person beside you spins you under their arm, and you twirl without hesitation, radiant under the artificial cosmos.

He stands frozen in the upper dome, unseen.

You once asked Xavier to dance. He hesitated, too quiet and too caught up in thoughts of MC to say yes.

But that stranger below? He didn’t hesitate at all.

And you look so light in his arms. So free.

Xavier leans his forehead against the glass, breathing deeply.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, even though you can’t hear him.

His star map reboots beside him, scattering constellations. But for the first time, he doesn’t reach out to correct them.

Because he knows now, you weren’t meant to orbit him forever.

And you didn’t. You became your own universe. One that he was never brave enough to explore.

Private Memoir Entry – Unpublished I was always afraid I’d look at her and see someone else. So I never truly looked. Not the way she deserved. She asked me once if I was choosing to heal with her or without her. I said, “Without.” She nodded. Didn’t cry. Just left. And now I’ve healed. Or so I pretend. But sometimes I think healing isn’t a choice. Sometimes it’s a cost. I gave up the one person who saw me in the shadows and stayed. And someone else saw her light and danced into it.

You’re seated in a corner café with a man Zayne doesn’t recognise—easy smiles, shared laughter, his coat wrapped around your shoulders.

Zayne was on his way to deliver lab files to the main district med unit but now… he can’t move.

His gaze locks on the way the man leans in to tuck your hair behind your ear. How your eyes crinkle with joy.

It’s the kind of comfort Zayne never offered you—not because he didn’t care, but because he was too distracted chasing clarity with MC.

You once told him you felt like his second choice. He never answered that. And now, someone else treats you like you're the only choice.

He doesn’t interrupt. Doesn’t approach.

But that image burns in his mind for weeks. It replays in the sterile quiet of his clinic, on late nights when no one needs stitching up.

And when he returns home, he finds one of your old letters still tucked inside his medical textbook.

He rereads it, fingers trembling, and realises too late—he could’ve loved you right, if only he’d let himself try.

His next patient finds him staring into nothing, stethoscope in hand, utterly elsewhere.

Medical Log – Never Filed Patient: N/A Status: Unreachable Treatment note: Emotional detachment leads to unintentional abandonment. Prognosis: Permanent loss. Notes: She used to come into my clinic with little things. Fake injuries. Paper cuts. Just to be near me. I knew. And I let her pretend. I let myself believe I had time. That once I stopped thinking about MC, I could finally give this girl the pieces I hadn’t sealed away. But healing is slow. And people… they don’t always wait for your hands to stop trembling. She’s warm now. She’s whole. And I still wear gloves to hold my regrets.

[starmocha]

11 months — first father's day

[Sylus + Daughter ★ 1378 words ★ Masterlist ★ Birdie Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Sylus' first Father's Day. Tag list: Under cut 【 request to be added 】

A/N: I'm over a week late, but life happens and all that jazz.

There was a warm breeze that passed through Linkon City, and within the city park, Sylus found himself drifting in and out of sleep on a picnic blanket on this lazy Sunday morning. Suddenly, he let out an overexaggerated grunt when he felt small little palms slapping against his stomach repeatedly, joined by excited babblings.

He cracked one eye open, smirking at the sight of the eleven-month-old girl in her red-and-white pomegranate-printed summer dress giggling before she plopped down on the ground, instantly sucking her thumb.

“Trying to look innocent now, are you, my little birdie?” Sylus questioned with a smirk as he sat half-way up, with his forearms still grounded to hold his weight.

His daughter pulled her thumb out of her mouth and giggled at her father before clapping her hands together.

“It’s no use acting so cute,” Sylus teased, “I have my eyes on you. Don’t think this little façade of yours will work on me, my little birdie.”

Immediately, his daughter babbled again confused before she turned around and started crawling toward you. You instantly scooped the baby girl into your arms and nuzzled your cheek against hers. “Oh, dear, did the big bad guy over there scared you, baby?”

The girl squirmed in your hold before you set her down. You smiled as she attempted to stand up on her own. She took clumsy little steps back toward Sylus. Immediately he sat up, smiling, as his arms were outstretched.

“That’s it, good job, baby,” Sylus praised, “You’re doing so well today.”

His smile widened when he noticed you had whipped out your phone, holding it sideway as you recorded the scene before you. His eyes drifted back to his little girl, chuckling when she stumbled and fell on her bottom. Before she could cry, he encouraged her once more, “It’s alright. You’re fine. Try again, baby.”

As if she understood her father, the little girl pushed herself upright again, and stumbled her way back to her father before she collapsed into his waiting arms, giggling when he lifted her high into the air. She kicked her feet excitedly before Sylus lowered her back down, holding her close in his embrace. He kissed the top of her head, murmuring sweetly, “You did so well, my little birdie.” He lowered his voice so only you and your daughter could hear him speak, “Why, soon you will be running rampage around the base.”

You ended the recording, laughing. “I don’t think we will be able to babyproof the whole place for her,” you teased.

Sylus lifted his daughter back into the air, smiling when she giggled again and started patting his face excitedly with both small hands of hers. He blew a kiss into her stomach, chuckling alongside his daughter’s excited giggles and your laughter. “She has free reign of the base,” he said, setting his daughter back down into his lap, with her facing you. “It will be hers someday anyway.”

You sighed at him exasperatedly. “Aren’t you thinking too far ahead?”

He shrugged. “So what?”

Before either of you could continue your conversation, your daughter babbled loudly and reached for the array of picnic food you had prepared. You smiled, and picked up a plastic container full of cutup strawberries. You fed one to her, saying gently, “Chew thoroughly, baby.”

“How about me?” Sylus teased you, opening his mouth wide, waiting.

You pretended to roll your eyes at him before you fed him a cutup strawberry. “Chew thoroughly, Sylus,” you teased him back.

“Mm, it’s sweet,” he responded, and before you could react, he had already guided you closer to him, his lips pressed to yours in a tender kiss. It didn’t last for long, but it was still enough for you to freeze up until you both heard the baby girl between you both crying out:

“Ah, ah!”

Sylus chuckled while you laughed awkwardly and reached for another piece of strawberry. “Alright, Little Miss, here’s another strawberry for you.”

“Bossy little birdie,” Sylus quipped with pride, his smile unwavering as he watched his daughter happily eat her piece of fruit. He chuckled when she yelled out again for more strawberries. “She has the makings of a great leader.”

“You are incorrigible.”

Your daughter leaned in closer eagerly for her next bite, but suddenly her eyes widened in shock when she was lifted into the air, her vision of you—and her precious strawberries—gone, replaced by her father’s smirk. She cried out confused before giggling when her father blew another kiss into her stomach.

“Do you hear that, baby? Mommy thinks Daddy is incorrigible,” Sylus said with feigned hurt, clearly trying to provoke you, but instead of falling for his ploy, you matched his wits.

“Using our daughter to have your ways?” you questioned him with mock astonishment. “For shame. I thought you were above such underhanded moves, Sylus.”

He huffed in amusement at your attempts to mess with him, his crimson eyes brightening the more he noticed you trying to hide your smiles. “Sweetie,” his voice lowered, and discreetly, he motioned with his fingers, manipulating his Evol to pull you closer to him, until you were settled in his lap with your daughter in yours. You shivered as his breath brushed against your ear, too stunned to register what had just happened. “I can be even more underhanded than this.”

“N-not in front of our daughter,” you scolded him with rosy cheeks.

“Very well,” he conceded lightheartedly, but his hand on your hip pulled you closer until your head rested against his chest. He leaned down, kissing the top of your head, his playful tone now gone. In its place, there was a familiar sincerity, warm and trusting, as he kept his words soft for only you and your daughter to hear: “Thank you.”

“For what?” You peered up confused, meeting his amused gaze. “I didn’t do anything…”

Sylus shook his head in disagreement. He tilted your chin up, and another fleeting kiss landed on your lips. “This picnic. This life. Our daughter,” he listed each one patiently, continuing in that same gentle tone, “You have given me so much already, and I fear I am still greedy for more.”

“Ah ah!”

You both laughed and looked down at the baby girl in your lap, seeing her eyeing the container of strawberries again. She squirmed in your hold, hand reaching out for the elusive fruit. She cried out in frustration when you held her tighter.

“Looks like you are not the only greedy one here today, Sylus,” you teased.

Sylus discreetly used his Evol to grab a small piece of strawberry, motioning it closer until it was held between his fingers. He peered down at his daughter, seeing her eyes widened with eagerness, her mouth agape, waiting.

“Do you want this strawberry, my little birdie?” He guided the strawberry to his own mouth, but stopped when his daughter cried out in frustration again.

“Ah ah!”

“This is the last sweet strawberry,” Sylus said, “What does this little birdie have to trade for such a delicious fruit?”

Your daughter babbled in confusion, looking up at you for help.

“Did this mean old dragon steal your strawberry, baby?”

Your daughter squirmed and reached out to her father for her fruit.

“Maybe a kiss will appease him?” you suggested and held the baby girl up. You guided her closer to Sylus’ cheek, and in the next instance, your husband received a wet kiss.

“Such a generous trade,” he quipped, and fed his daughter the last piece of strawberry. “I feel like that kiss has earned you a strawberry farm, my little birdie.”

“Well, her first birthday is coming up soon,” you said, humoring him.

“Indeed,” he murmured, looking at you fondly again. “It’s already been nearly a year since she’s arrived…”

You both looked down at the baby girl in your lap, seeing her watching you both with wide-eyed curiosity. You kissed the top of her head. “Do you know how loved you are, our little birdie?”

Your daughter cried out excitedly in response, clapping her hands in glee.

“Thank you for coming into the world.” Sylus leaned down, his cheek nuzzling against his daughter’s before he kissed her cheek, “Thank you for being ours.”

Tag list: @lavlynyan @alfredosaws @solifloris @nezuswritingdesk @valkyyriia @yes-no-maybe-soo @natimiles @yourlocalcatscammer @callilypso @likewhyareyousoobsessedwithme @qyuin @sylusfluffymeow @asiaticapple @rainbowsnowflake @littleapplle @animegamerfox @deepspacenova 【 request to be added 】

[humanjarvis]

lads LIs when you're hesitant to initiate kisses

sylus understands your hesitancy to make yourself vulnerable, but he also can't stand to see you unfulfilled. the first couple times he catches you staring at his lips, he offers nothing but lazy blinks and slow smirks, challenging you to come to him first. but when you look away in uncertainty one too many times, seemingly content to watch your own desires slip away as long as it saves you from embarrassment, he saunters toward you, maintaining eye contact all the way. placing one hand on your hip and the other on your chin, he bends to capture your lips with his, making you stumble with his intensity. his grip on you only tightens when he breaks the kiss, and before you can ask what he’s doing, he tugs you toward his lips. when you lose your balance and fall into his embrace, you realize his game: he’s making you kiss him first 

zayne empathizes with your shyness and hesitancy, afraid to so much as look at you the wrong way in case he offends you. since you’re both too frozen in overthought to make the first move, you don’t become intimate as quickly as most couples, trading physical closeness for emotional understanding. when he walks you to your door after a visit to the bakery, he leaves you with a warm goodnight hug, and you both assume the other is satisfied. only when you think he’s asleep on the sofa one evening and press a fond kiss to his cheek does he realize you share his private desires. the next day, after stoically psyching himself up for 20 minutes, he finds you in the kitchen and kisses you deeply, a pink tinge on his cheeks when he pulls away

caleb wants you to kiss him first—or at least ask him to kiss you—but what if you won’t? he needs to know that you want him—that you’ll willingly give him the privilege of kissing you—so he gives you a few pushes in the right direction. he teases you with heated glances and not-so-accidental touches until you walk up to him, dumb with desire. when you stare up at him helplessly, he settles a large hand on your waist and hovers over your mouth, giving you the chance to push him away. when you don’t, he leans in slowly, tantalizingly, as if wanting to drive home the fact that you’re letting this happen to you—letting him claim your mouth in a slow, consuming kiss. this way, maybe, just maybe, you’ll find the courage to take what you want from him next time—if you let him taste you, there’s no need to be shy anymore, right?

you know rafayel, so you know he would be upset if you expected him to initiate everything—would it kill you to show a little interest in him? that said, you also know that initiating things isn’t really your thing. so, you find a trick that works like a charm: you goad him into kissing you. you’re comfortable enough with kisses to other places—anywhere but the lips—so you adorn his cheeks and neck with soft, chaste kisses until he’s riled up and flushed, his breath coming out in soft pants from the pleasure of feeling wanted. when you pull away, he chases your touch, and all it takes is an innocent giggle from you before he’s pinning you down and stealing your breath away, his tongue tangling with yours in passion and power.

xavier is confused and a bit discouraged when he realizes you never initiate—he thinks you just don’t want to kiss him. one afternoon, you find him sulking in bed, huddled under his comforter with the lights off. worried he’s sick or hurt, you ask what’s wrong, and he gives you 4 pouty non-answers before finally giving in. you can feel your face heat and gut tangle in guilt when he questions if you ever want to kiss him, and with one hand stroking his hair, you confess that you’re simply too shy to kiss him first. he responds with a blink and a whispered “so you do like me, then?”, and when you nod, he tackles you at the speed of light, pressing kisses all over your face before finally claiming your lips

a/n: anon who asked me if i’d ever write for zayne and i hinted at later this week this is not what i was talking about don’t worry, just an impromptu writing exercise to convince myself i’m not washed. also while this technically counts for xavier and raf i’m the least familiar with their cards so idk if/when i can write anything much longer than this for them (love them tho)

[mwphisto]

LaDs Men and Some of Their Kinks

Includes: Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Sylus, and Caleb x implied female reader (separate of course)

Warning, this post includes: somnophila, dacryphilia, brat taming, scent kink, squirting, masturbation, master/pet play, spitting, cockwarming, and more.

A/N: I finished all of my work for university! Now I just have a final presentation next week (which I already did), and then I'll have earned my bachelor's degree! Now I can do some celebratory smutty writing to get back into the swing of things :)

Xavier

Somnophilia is high up there on Xavier's list, but not because he wants to use your body while you sleep. No, Xavier wants you to use him while he is somewhere far off in dreamland. He really wants to wake up to you with his cock down your throat. Even better? He's positive he'd cum on the spot if he woke up to you riding him.

Mutual Masturbation could send Xavier into a frenzy. He loves watching you pleasure yourself, especially when your eyes are glued to the way his fist pumps up and down his length. But he can never truly handle it for long, losing his composure before either of you can make yourselves cum. You're just too cute for him to resist.

Outdoor sex is right up Xavi's alley, though it really should count as he loves fucking you on his balcony. Xavier is quite accustomed to falling asleep in the cozy paradise he has put together on his balcony. Which means, it's also well equipped for him to fuck you stupid. Maybe it's the thrill of someone hearing, perhaps even seeing, or maybe his need to make sure everyone knows you are his (looking at you, Charlie). Regardless, he's rather fond of making you his.

Rafayel

Master / Pet had started off as a joke, almost an inside joke between the two of you after Ebb day had passed. Then, slowly, the joking terms of "pet" and "master" made their way into your intimacy. It didn't matter who donned what role; it just depended on the mood and perhaps even the situation that led both of you to the bed.

Squirting, Rafayel is utterly addicted to it. The first time he got you to cum that intensely, he ended up cumming himself. The lemurian isn't satisfied anymore if he doesn't end up soaked in your juices. He'll go as far as to ensure you are well hydrated before making any moves. This man has done his research, and so far it hasn't failed him.

You're his real-life canvas. Rafayel was shocked that you agreed the first time he asked the question. You had shamelessly stripped for him, nothing but a pair of panties clinging to your ass and hips. Your skin was his canvas, and the gentle, cool strokes of the paintbrush had goosebumps erupting across your arms. He didn't think it was possible to fall more in love with you than he already was, nor did he think it was possible to crave you as badly as he did when he dragged the paint-slick brush over the swell of your tits.

Zayne

Brat-taming just comes naturally for Zayne. Lucky for him, being a brat just happens to be second nature for you. Cool, calm, collected Zayne being pushed to his limits over and over again until he finally cracks. It's the outcome you've been craving from your stoic lover. And once you got it - ass cheeks bruised and your entire lower half being so sore that you're limping - you find that you're utterly addicted. Good thing your lover is on the same page.

Quickies in public spaces are a guilty pleasure. Everyone always expects Zayne to be so good, to follow the rules. Stepping out of line is far more addictive than being the goody two-shoes he's been his whole life. Having you half undressed, speared on his cock while your back is pressed into his desk? Your tits bouncing as you ride him in the front seat of his sports car? Fingering you while you sit beside each other in a dimly lit and crowded restaurant? He's on cloud nine.

Recording your little escapades had been the outcome at the end of the spiral. A spiral you started one evening as you bounced yourself stupid on Zayne's cock, the legs of the couch creaking under your efforts. You were being bratty, and he hadn't quite crossed the threshold yet to feel comfortable putting you in your place. Testing your limits, you had reached for your phone and began taking pictures of you and him as you ground down on his dick. Faces flushed and eyes glossy, Zayne still had those selfies on his phone, under a special album only he could see.

Sylus

Dacryphilia caught Sylus by surprise. He didn't realize how badly it would turn him on until you were choking on his cock with fat streams of tears flowing down your cheeks. You looked like such a mess, so utterly destroyed and he hadn't even gotten into that sweet pussy yet. Bless him, he came before he could warn you, too entranced by your sobbing face and mouth full of his dick to speak.

Cockwarming you has been Sylus' favorite activity besides getting to love you so thoroughly it left you breathless. He wants to be close to you, as close as his body could get and as close as you'd allow. Even on nights when you two haven't made love, he'll ask you rather shyly if he can slip it in. Much to his pleasure, you always let him, especially since you know he sleeps much better when he gets to hold you close... inside and out for that matter.

Sex toys are not off limits for Sylus, honestly, he quite enjoys them. He's well aware of his capabilities and, in turn, he is well aware of his limitations. He can finger fuck you until you're crying, sure. But shoving a vibrating dildo in that pretty little cunt is far more amusing to him. He gets off on having the control, watching your entire body tremble from vibrations so intense that nothing he could do himself would ever get close to replicating. His trick is that you don't get any access to the toys he uses on you. They are his use only, taken out just to drive you mad before he gives you what he really wants. You genuinely have no idea where your lover hides them afterwards.

Caleb

Spitting but not in a way you'd think. Caleb wants you to spit in his mouth, on his dick, use it as extra lubricant. Doesn't mean Caleb will deny you if you ask him to spit on or in you, but god does he crave the feeling of your saliva coating his tongue. He wants to devour you whole, in any way he can, spit included.

Power play is right up his alley. As long as you are consenting, Caleb will go to whatever extreme you desire. It could be as simple as using "yes, sir" or "yes, ma'am" or as complicated as full-on BDSM with safe words and real leather, cuffs, gags, and paddles. Whatever you're willing to give him to fulfill the fantasies, the colonel is willing to accept, and never once will he complain.

A big ole scent kink, he can't help it, you just smell so utterly addicting, it drives him insane. Your shampoo, your body wash, your perfume, your sweat, your arousal. You name it, if it's something on or from you, Caleb will probably love it. You didn't realize it started with your worn panties, ones he stole from the hamper after you would hop in the shower. Caleb was a pervert for it, and he knew it damn well, but it didn't stop him from fucking his fist while inhaling the heady scent of your dirty panties.

[valyvinny]

╰┈➤ ❝ Love and deepspace boys *:･ﾟ✧*: Losing control ❞

PAIRING : Caleb x reader, Sylus x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader and Xavier x reader GENRE : Soft smut WORD COUNT : 2.6k TAGS : MDNI 18+ NSFW, kissing, making out, grinding, dry humping, allusions to sex, rafayel is implied to be in heat, back scratching (only is sylus') A/N : PHEWW, I know I said that the next piece of writing may take a while but I also have no self control lol. Though this time I promise its gonna take a hot minute cause final year med school exams are kicking my asssss. Also, I didn't expect my previous piece to do as well as it did. Thank you all so so much for reading it and I hope you enjoy this one :)

The lads boys can't help but lose control around you

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Caleb

Caleb is addicted to your lips. It’s almost like he’s making up for the years he’s spent abstaining from you, littering fleeting pecks throughout the day. 

Caleb just can’t seem to help himself. He’d always kiss you hello and goodbye. He’d kiss you good morning and good night. 

He was always so gentle with it, tucking strands of your hair behind your ears before cupping your face in his palms, holding you like you’re made of glass. Afraid that with one wrong move, you’d break. 

He’d take his time to admire your features. Features that he’s cherished and adored his whole life, that he can probably draw out from memory. Your expressive eyes gazing at him in anticipation, the plush of your inviting lips, the dusty pink hue that’s settled on your cheeks.  

You were his entire world and he could only hope you’d be able to feel at least a fraction of what he felt for you and how much he treasured you in the way he kissed you. Soft and tender. Pouring all the passion he could as he moved his lips against yours. 

But perhaps most infuriatingly (not really, you secretly loved it), he’d often kiss you mid conversation. A light peck to stop you in your tracks. It was his trump card, especially when you were scolding him for something. And it worked every time, it always seemed to melt you into a puddle 

“You just look so adorable when you’re talking to me pip-squeak” he’d say, laughing at your display of annoyance. But the fact that you we’re fighting off a smile said you felt otherwise. 

But when he had the time to indulge himself in you, it was an entirely different experience. An entirely different Caleb. The duality of your childhood friend always gave you a whiplash. 

He’s pulling you close to him, savoring the feeling of your body against his. You’re caged against his imposing form and whatever surface he’s crowding you against this time. You’re pinned, completely at the mercy of the man that’s yearning for your touch. 

Caleb kisses you with the hunger of a thousand men. His kisses are feverish, demanding, ravishing every corner of your mouth like it’s the first time. He bites down on the plush of your bottom lip, taking you by surprise. 

“Sorry”, he breathes. But he isn’t really. Not when the sound of your wanton moans sends tingles down his spine. God, how did he get so fucking lucky. Having you here like this, so pliant and needy in his arms is his version of heaven. 

The feeling of you carding your fingers through the strands of his hair, tugging at the roots makes a filthy groan escape from his lips. You’re going to be the death of him. 

You’re impatiently pulling his lips towards you again, and it only spurs him on further, pressing one bruising kiss after another, leaving your lips swollen. All the while his hand is sneaking up your shirt to feel the intoxicating warmth of your body. 

You rarely ever stop him when he gets like this. You know he needs it, needs you. And you want him too. Desperately. So you take a hold of his hand and guide it lower, Caleb’s eyes darkening in response. It’s safe to say that neither of you are going anywhere anytime soon. 

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Sylus

Sylus is subtle with his affections, it reflects in his gentle and otherwise discrete mannerisms. 

The silver haired man has made a habit of kissing your hand in greeting.

“My lady”, he’s tease, smirking at the your cheeks tinged pink and your defiant pout. 

Occasionally, he’d press a kiss on the top of your head and interlace his fingers with yours. Other times, he’d wrap your hands around your waist, guiding you through noisy crowds. 

However, behind closed doors, your proximity was a drug to him. 

He’d rarely, if ever, be apart from you and your lips. Once he had you against him on his bed, perched on his lap, you’d be better off clearing your schedule. 

Sylus could spend hours savoring the touch of your lips against his. He’s a sensual kisser. Taking his time to draw out every moan, every whimper he can draw from you. 

He’s slow, concentrating first on your upper, then your lower lip, your mouth moving against his in tandem with a rhythm that comes with practiced ease. He’s thoroughly infatuated with the way you move against him, seeking more of his touch. 

He strokes your cheek with his thumb, before entangling his fingers in your hair, angling your face just right for him to kiss you deeper, while his other hand is wrapped against your waist leaning you against the headboard. 

It’s intoxicating. You’re drowning in the presence of this man, and with each kiss, you only want to sink deeper and deeper. 

His kisses are numbing. Your lips tingling with how much they’re being ravaged by his, but you don’t want it to stop. In fact, you want to break his resolve further. 

So you pull out his shirt that’s tucked neatly in his pants, your hand snaking up his back, feeling the muscles flex underneath your fingertips. 

You rake your nails across his back, the sting making the silver haired male shudder in response, satisfied at his break in composure. 

“You sly minx” he chides, black tendrils of his Evol emerging to bind your wrists over your head, freeing him to continue his offense. 

Each press of his lips steals your breath away, leaving you completely drunk with need, until the only thought consuming you was the man in front of you. 

As the minutes tick by, Sylus is emboldened with a new sense of ferocity and intensity as you find yourself grinding against his thigh, desperate to ease the growing warmth in between your thighs. 

And if you were willing to, he’d be very happy to indulge you, give you everything you want and more. 

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Zayne

Zayne is a sensible man. His logical reasoning and quick thinking, even in the most critical situations, is what makes him the most sought after Cardiothoracic Surgeon in Linkon. 

He’s very rarely swayed by his emotions. But that also means he comes off as cold and unfeeling to the people around him. 

Not to you though. Never to you. Zayne is the warmest presence in your life.

In the midst of all his responsibilities, you are his reprieve, a breath of fresh air. When he has you to himself, the doctor throws all sense and reason out the window. You are his ultimate weakness. 

You are his to worship. The need he feels for you is indescribable. It consumes him, swallows him whole, until he starts to let lose any remaining restraint that holds him back from you. 

The way Zayne kisses you can only be described as reverent. He takes his time with you. Worshipping you. 

Kissing featherlight kisses up your jaw, his lips just barely brushing your skin, trailing them to just beneath your ear, before tugging at your earlobe with his teeth. 

You shiver in response, angling yourself towards him, trying to press more of yourself to him in hopes that he will relent. 

But Zayne is in no hurry. Not at all. He wants to watch you unravel under him. Bit my bit until you’re completely pliant. 

He wants to be selfish with you. So he continues his ministrations, peppering kisses down your throat, feeling the vibrations of your hums and huffs with his lips. 

You’re struggling to keep your eyes open now, Zayne’s gentle but lethal movements sending a flush of warmth down your body. You need his lips on yours, you need it like you need air. 

“Please Zayne…kiss me” 

How could he deny you when you begged him so sweetly? 

The sight of you so debauched with just a few simple touches sends Zayne into a frenzy. It pleases him, knowing you want him as much as he wants you. 

So he relents, giving you what you want and kissing your lips, while you sigh in relief. Finally. 

Zayne kisses you with intent. His hands are at your hips, squeezing slightly as he devours the moans that leave your lips.

He moves his hand to touch your face, earning a surprised gasp from you, your eyes shooting open. His fingertips are icy cold. Only then do you notice, there’s frost creeping up his neck and hands. His Evol is responding to you. 

But Zayne pays it no mind, he’d die before ever causing you harm. So he grazes your bottom lip with the tip of his thumb, gazing into your eyes while nodding reassuringly. 

“I’m okay” he’d confirm before he captures your lips again, this time with renewed vigor, determined to finish what he started. 

He’s everywhere all at once, and you find comfort in each other’s kisses, touches and presence. Allowing yourselves to get lost in each other further into the night. 

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Xavier

Xavier is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. His unsuspecting and otherwise modest appearance only serves as a facade, concealing his genuine desires. 

While he comes off as quiet and unassuming, the truth is far from it. 

He can’t help himself. You’re his. The hunter wants you next to him at all times, kissing him, touching him, loving him. He wants your undivided attention on him, selfishly so. 

It always starts out so innocent. He’s pulling you into his embrace, kissing the tip of your nose in greeting. 

“Hello my star” he says, as you giggle under his affection. And God his heart clenches at the sound. It’s music to his ears. 

He repeats the action, then tenderly peppering kisses all over your face. Your forehead, the apple of your cheeks, the dip of your chin and the corner of your lips. Over and over again until you’re reduced into a fit of laughter. 

“Xavier, it tickles” you whine, with no real complaint in your tone. 

He ceases his playful gesture, only to wrap his hands around your waist, picking you up and placing you on the dining table with practiced ease. 

You often find yourself in this position. Perched on a surface with Xavier spreading your thighs, finding his rightful place between them. 

He’s burying his face in your neck, brushing his lips against your thrumming pulse. The sound of your breath hitching in response makes Xavier smile against your skin. He’s got you exactly where he wants you. 

“My light, can I please?” He asks, pleading for your permission to spoil you.  

You find it very hard to deny the hunter, especially when you know what usually comes next. And you want it so bad. Want him to come undone and take you for himself. You’ve never stopped him before and you’re most definitely not going to stop him now. 

The breathy ‘please’ that leaves your lips is all the confirmation he needs as he dives to nip at the nape of your neck. Your skin is soft and warm as he swipes his tongue along the line of your pulse. You throw your head back in response, inviting him to take more of you. 

Xavier worries the skin in between his teeth, sucking and tonguing at the spot until he’s satisfied with the dark splotch that blooms in its place. 

He continues a similar onslaught across your collarbone and throat, leaving you hissing at the delicious sting. 

The hunter trails his lips up your throat, finally connecting his lips with yours. He kisses you like a man starved, encouraged by the sight of the dark purple marks he’s left decorating your skin. 

It satisfies a primal part of him, knowing in a way, he’s claimed you for himself. 

He’s greedy for you, and isn’t ashamed to show it. Pressing chaste kisses one after the other, barely giving you a second to catch your breath, swallowing the lustful moans that threaten that leave your lips. 

And as his hand squeezes the fat of your thighs, edging his fingertips higher to the warmth that sits between your legs, you know that you’re not leaving his apartment until you’re absolutely ruined. 

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Rafayel

There’s only two things that Rafayel needs to survive in this world. One is his art, the second is you. The merman is needy and he isn’t ashamed to show it. 

Sometimes, it’s difficult to get anything done when the Lemurian is around. He’s practically glued to your side, sneaking kisses to your cheek, wrapping his hand around your waist and nuzzling into the nape of your neck.  

You aren’t complaining though, you find it endearing when he’s all pouty and clingy.

And then there’s Rafayel when there’s an insatiable need growing under his skin that he just can’t seem to itch.   

When he gets like this, you’ve learned to surrender to his mercy. That’s how you find yourself currently perched on his lap. 

His gaze is intense, half lidded eyes staring you down like you’re his prey. He’s breathing heavier than usual, a sheen of sweat coating his skin. 

“Raf, are you okay?” You question worryingly. He’s burning up, you can practically feel the heat emanating from his skin. 

Wordlessly, Rafayel takes a hold of your hand, placing it on his cheek, nuzzling into your palm. It’s not enough though, he’s growing more restless. He needs more of you touching him. 

On instinct, the merman turn his face to bite at the fat of your palm, laving his tongue over the skin. When he hears your breath hitch, he breaks. 

With all semblance of reason now completely disregarded, Rafayel grasps at your neck, pressing your body into his eliminating any space between the two of you. 

His lips are on yours in an instant, and your hands are in his hair, tugging at his waves as he nips and sucks at your lips, bruising them. 

“Y/n…” he groans. His voice dripping with lust, brows knitted as he struggles to catch his breath. 

You look up at the merman. He looks positively ruined. His shirt is in disarray, hair standing up in a hundred different directions, lips swollen. And his eyes, there’s a storm brewing behind them, having darkened considerably. 

You’ve never seen him like this. Rafayel’s always been playful, using his humor as a front to his true feelings, always keeping you at arms length. 

But right now, he feels so raw. Trusting you with his deepest desires as they erupt to the surface. 

Seeing him like this, so open, so vulnerable makes heat pool between your legs. You want him, God no you need him. So you crash your lips onto his with fervor, matching his frenzy with new determination. 

Rafayel is loud. He doesn’t hold back, reacting to every press of lips, every pull of hair, grinding himself against you to relieve at least some of the tension built up in his pants. 

His tongue is swiping at your bottom lip, begging for permission which you grant without hesitation. It’s wet and messy, one hand kneading your thigh, the other playing with the button of your jeans. 

It’s all a well choreographed dance then, motions you’ve been through many times. But somehow this moment feels different, a tangible electricity in the air. You have a feeling the Lemurian isn’t going to let you go until he’s had his fill of you. 

© valyvinny. All right reserved. Do not steal, copy, translate, repost or reupload any of my works. Do not use my work for AI

[sylusgworl]

WHAT THEY LOVE DOING WITH/TO YOU ft. love and deepspace

as the title says — sylus, zayne, rafayel, xavier, caleb x fem!reader

content: very fluffy, no stressy, no cws just love and affection, slightly suggestive in sylus's part

a/n: yup, another comforting piece. at first i only thought of writing xavier's part, but then it just came to me... i can write FIVE. so uh, enjoy <3. wc: 900 . rbs are very appreciated <3

m.list

if xavier could, he’d live with his head on your lap.

yes, exactly. especially after coming back home from being outside all day, your lap is his safe haven.

and you, you love seeing his tired form appear through the door, as he walks groggily towards you, flashing you a sheepish smile.

“how was your day baby?” you ask him, while he plops down on the sofa right next to you.

“‘twas good,” he answers simply, pecking your lips before lying down, his head resting on your lap.

you then start stroking his hair, gently, then hear soft snores coming from him. you love seeing his relaxed features and gentle sleeping face, you wish he could rest more.

sometimes as he’s resting on your lap, his arms would wrap around your abdomen, to bring you even closer, occasionally tickling you when he’s still awake, before slowly drifting to a peaceful sleep, your slow hums lulling him until his consciousness fades.

zayne holds your hand at any given chance. if he could, your fingers would stay entangled to his, forever.

yes, it’s that serious.

especially whenever the two of you go on walks, his hand will never leave yours, unless you’re the first to let go.

“wait zayne, i dropped my tissues,” you say while your hand momentarily leaves his.

those three seconds are for zayne like an eternity.

he doesn’t like how something feels amiss right away, but the emptiness is filled right away when your fingers find his again.

zayne loves your hands, the warmth of them, and just smothering the back with kisses, slowly and gently, all without averting his haze from yours.

and the simple hand holding escalates quickly into something more.

zayne peppers your hand in kisses, then your wrist, then your arm all the way up to your neck and chin. then, he presses gentle kisses against your lips.

most of the time, the two of you end up going further and further, craving each other like you are the missing part he needs, and vice versa. oh, and of course his hold on your hand is still safely tight.

it is now an essential activity in sylus’s life to lay in bed next to you and rest his face against your chest, his head cushioned by the softness of your breasts and lulled by your calm heartbeat.

yes, sylus couldn’t ask for more. if he could, he’d never leave that position.

you often remind him to let you breathe for a couple of minutes, but after that, he’s back at it again.

“you knew what you were getting into when you accepted to be with me, sweetie,” he teases you, pushing a stray lock of your hair behind your ear while looking at you, amused, as you slap back his hand, offended.

“the girls didn’t sign up to be pillows though,” you mutter, looking elsewhere. and sylus would just chuckle, closing his eyes while feeling your skin under his palm.

“sylus where are you touching!?” you yell startled, but he just ignores you, and keeps doing what he wants.

“i’m putting the girls to good use since they refuse to be just ‘pillows’, clearly,” and you just can’t stop him, no matter what. not that you mind, you’ll just see it as a free massage.

caleb is constantly wrapping an arm around your shoulders, sometimes both of them, while peppering kisses at your nape and neck. causing you to shiver as you gently attempt to move away.

yes, he loves having you in his arms, only then he’ll be 100% sure you are safe.

sometimes, he’d even bear-hug you while you’re laying down and just fall asleep in that position, causing you to giggle at his childishness.

“c’mon caleb, you’re pressing my rib,” you try to reason with him, but he’d just muffle some inaudible words and get back at snoring.

so, you resort to tickling his sides so that his strong hold mellows, and you just move his arm, feeling his strong bicep under your fingertips.

“please, just a bit more,” he groans and proceeds to hold you even closer.

well, the battle was already lost at the start.

you just leave him be and stay there, cradled by the big bear that is your boyfriend.

what rafayel enjoys most is pressing his hands against your cheeks and just causing your expression to scrunch, only to laugh at your funny look as your eyes shoot him daggers.

besides being a prankster, his hands cup your cheeks every time the two of you are kissing.

he believes it brings you even closer than you are.

sometimes, it just starts as something innocent.

his firm and focused gaze is locked into your eyes as he rests both hands at the sides of your cheeks, feeling the softness of your skin, as he causes you to look funny, yet again.

“rafahyl s-shtop…” you try to say while clutching his fingers

then, his eyes drop down, at your puckered lips and he just can’t stop himself from leaving a peck. then another one. then another.

until the two of you are slowly making out, his tongue swirling in search of yours while his hands gently bring your face closer.

“oh you’re so done,” and you start running around as he flees from you, noticing how enraged you are but still giggling like a five-year old boy.

© sylusgworl - 2025, all rights reserved / i don't allow anyone to copy, repost on other platforms or sell my works.

[dirtylilspawn]

hi, i recently discovered your account, and now i'm just in love with your fics, i really liked the headcanons about reader manhandling lads boys. Can you do a reverse version? like, if they wanted to take revenge.

ᴍᴀɴʜᴀɴᴅʟᴇᴅ ᴘᴛ. 2

Summary: The lads boys manhandle you right back.

Fandom: Love & Deepspace

Parings: [Rafayel x Fem!Reader, Sylus x Fem!Reader, Caleb x Fem!Reader, Xavier x Fem!Reader, Zayne x Fem!Reader]

A/N: Hi!!! I'm so happy you like my fics especially the manhandling one, I had fun writing it. And it seems like a lot of people love it haha! Pls don't be afraid to ask anything else you want me to write next. Give me some more good inspiration yall, for me to work on lol. Manhandled pt. 1

Warnings: Fluff & humor, some suggestive stuff, cursing, jealousy, drunk reader

════════════════════════════

RAFAYEL

You and Rafayel frequently visit the beach whenever you can.

A was special place for the both of you.

It was summer break, a good excuse to once again visit the ocean together. Staying away from the heat, enjoying each other's company, eating great food, and walking along the sandy beach. That was your typical outing with Rafayel. And if you were feeling more adventurous, Rafayel would take you deep diving along the ocean floors. The two of you swimming along the currents, seeing the beauty of every coral reef or fish, and many other sea life.

Right now, your whole body was floating along the calm waters.

Your back and legs carried by the cool ocean, cradling you with ease. Your eyes were connected with the bright blue sky above you; a few small clouds pass by but otherwise it was a clear sky today. You smiled while letting out a chilled sigh.

You came over to Rafayel's place, wanting to use his private beach to relax and have fun. It has been a suffering hot for the last two weeks, and you needed a break. You didn't even ask him, the moment you showed up to his home, you were already in your two-piece swimsuit. A pretty white bikini with pink shell tracings along the edges, strings wrapping around your neck and upper torso, while the bottoms had string bows on the side of your waist. You also wore a pink see-through coverup with sandals. And to top it off, you held a basket filled with sandwiches, drinks, snack, desserts, that the two of you enjoyed.

This was a surprise of course, but a very openly welcomed surprise to Rafayel none-the-less. Seeing you in such a visually pleasing bikini was nothing but perfection in Rafayel's world, plus there was food, so really, he couldn't deny you. If he could, he'd tell you to dress like that all the time, 24/7. The only problem would be the onlookers gawking over your beauty, plus he knew you'd be against it anyways. A man can only dream.

Anyway, your thoughts soon came to a halt as you suddenly wondered to yourself, where the heck was your boyfriend? He was here with you during the early day, bathing in the sun, playing few games, swimming together. But as you look to both your sides seeing empty water, and Rafayel's beach cabana empty. You can't even hear him, and you were starting to get a bit anxious.

The last time you heard his voice before relaxing on top of the ocean, was that he'll be right back. That he was going to get something before returning to you. That was seven minutes ago

You didn't know what he was trying to do or get at, but it shouldn't take that long...right?

"Rafayel!?"

You called out as your body was still floating above the water. You hear nothing, no reply back. The only sounds were the wind blowing through some trees, and the swishing of the ocean underneath you.

"Where is he? He didn't ditch me...did he?"

You bite your lip, eyes staring up at the sky with a narrowed glare. Your throat emitting an annoyed groan as another minute passes on.

"He wouldn't...I bet he's scheming something...I can feel it..."

You quiet yourself to hear anything, anything at all. You didn't know why but you had a gut feeling that something was not up. You heart starts to pick up, making you feel on edge. Another minute of calm silence stresses you out as you shake your head.

"Okay that's it! I'm done waiting around, where the hell-AAH!!"

Before you could even get up and search for Rafayel, a strong hand starts to wrap around your legs, while the other hand made its way to your back. The mysterious person picked up from the water, holding you close. You're still screaming in horror at the sudden action, squirming in this person's arms, wondering how a stranger wandered into Rafayel's beach. But all those screams die down as you see your mischievous boyfriend with that annoying grin of his as he stared down at you. His whole-body drench with water, droplets from his hair landing onto your chest.

Rafayel then leans into your neck with rampant amounts of kisses. You sputter out nonsense as he continues to do this before leaning away to give you a sly wink.

"Hey princess, didn't miss me too much did ya~?"

"R-Rafayel! What! Why! You...jerk!"

Your terror went to confusion, which went to anger as you grabbed at his cheeks. Shaking his head with so much frustration causing the man to yelp himself getting away from your attack.

"Okay okay! I'm sorry, stop shaking me! You don't want me to drop you, do ya?"

You stop shaking him, but your pout still remains of your face as your arms were crossed against your chest.

"Where were you?"

"I wasn't that far away, just down below the reefs to find this."

Rafayel hand that was on your back reveals on your side a beautiful conch seashell. The outside a shiny iridescent silver refection, with the sun's rays, you could see the tiny rainbows reflected around the surface. On the inside material was a light violet color, its smooth base glittering, drops of water tracing the shell as if they were pearls. This was indeed beautiful shell, one that Rafayel motioned for you to take into your hands which you did. Your fingertips trace the patterns of the conch shell; it was the size of your palm.

"Isn't it beautiful, thought I find the most extravagant shell I can find, for the most extravagant woman here.

You didn't say anything, as you could feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, feeling a bit silly for worrying so much. Feeling embarrassed how the thought of him being underwater was a possibility. You look away from him, clutching the shell close to your chest.

"...it's pretty..."

Rafayel chuckles leaning in to give you a sweet kiss to your cheek. He starts to walk his way back to the shore.

"I'm sorry for scaring you princess, are you mad at me?"

You sigh, eyes returning to his as you smiled back at him.

"No, just next time bring me with you, I like it when we do things together."

Rafayel kisses your cheeks again, his nose brushing with yours.

"Fully noted. Though, I have to admit, hearing your screams was a lot funnier than I expected, cute even. I might want to hear it again~"

Rafayel stops, the ocean water only encompassing his whole waist. His arms start to get lose around your legs and back. He then teases by swaying you around in his arms, as if he has the nerve to throw you out of his embrace, and into the water harshly. You give him a glare, as you wrapped one arm around his neck securely.

"Don't even try fish boy."

Rafayel could only shiver at your threat, a playful yet nervous grin, as he continues to walk out of the ocean and onto the sandy shore.

════════════════════════════

SYLUS

You got into a fight.

No, not a serious fight where tensions rise in one's relationship that causes problems, no. I mean a petty silly fight that started out as a small disagreement, only to result in the both of you - mostly you - giving each other the silent treatment. Honestly you forgotten what the argument as about. Maybe it was about work life, or maybe it was that you had a bad day, whatever it was it made you pretty stubborn to talk to him. Always avoiding him, giving him sarcastic huffs, turning your head upward like some snotty rich girl. Refusing to acknowledge his presence in a very playful yet still mad stubborn kind of way.

He knows this, and he finds it adorable.

How his kitten is refusing any sort of affection due to one silly argument. Playing hard to get as he tries lure you in with apologies and love, while all you do is turn your head the other way. Like a stranger pushing a bowl of milk to a stray cat as it hisses in retaliation. He found it absolutely cute, but the cuteness soon died down into a slight irritation.

"My you sure are a sight for the eyes girly~"

"Aw thank you."

Sylus scoffed watching the sleezy older man compliment you like some common whore for him to take. He could overhear the whole conversation between you and him through an earpiece the two of you shared. And the more that bastard talk to you, the more upset Sylus got.

You were undercover obviously, gathering personal intel from a powerful criminal the frequented this nightclub in the N109 zone. You told Sylus about it in a very brief manner, expecting to go alone on this but the Onychinus leader came along with you. Because he'll be damned if he didn't, and he was right. He knows that this little argument between you and him was just no more than playful banter between you both, there was no actual problem. He knows inside you had already forgiven him, even though you won't admit it. He liked that aspect of your stubbornness, but now he didn't, because now he has to watch another man talk to you while you laugh and smile at his words - not actually - and he can't even get two words in before you turn away.

It bothered him.

And it bothered him even more when he sees this old man start to get fresh. His dirty hands making their way to your exposed thigh. Making his way up your thigh, a goal to get underneath your short red dress. A dress he had bought for you one time, a dress that he can only undress and feel up underneath.

Yeah, he's had enough of this.

Time to put an end to your game.

You on the other hand were trying so hard not to punch the man in the face. Your face twitching in anger but still acting coy and sweet, swatting the old man 's hand playfully off, giggling, but deep down you were seething. You just wanted to go home with Sylus and end this night quickly. Just a little more info, then you can finally go.

Your thoughts were soon interrupted when you can see your intimidating boyfriend waltz right up to the private corner where you and your suspect were sitting. He parted the crowd of dancers with ease, his face stone cold and serious, as his red eyes glowered at the scene in front of him. You cursed inside, as Sylus is now right in front of you. His big body looming over yours as you sat nervously.

"Time to go dove."

It was all he said, you were happy he's here. Happy that he came to get you. But at the same time the stubbornness from before rises, now upset at him for blowing your mission. You sat up hands pushing at his chest gently to make him go back, but the man does not bulge an inch.

"What are yo-"

"Hey, were busy here pal."

The elder man then suddenly gets up; he glares at Sylus while bringing you back close to him. His arm and hand wrapped around your waist, making you cringe not liking being this close to the guy. Before you could even say anything, or push this man away, you saw the familiar dark red and black mist of Sylus evol activating around the old man. He grunts in pain, his whole body capsulated by the powerful evol making his hand come off your waist. It crushed him a bit all before he was suddenly thrown back against the leather couch. He let's out a painful groan, as his body sags pathetically.

You watch this, only to gasp loudly yourself as you had found yourself being picked up by Sylus. Your whole body thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, ass sticking out and your dress ridding up your thighs making you blush heavily.

"Sylus!"

"We're going now."

He simply says before making his way out of the club, parting the shocked crowded of people that witness the embarrassing scene. As if that wasn't enough, Sylus gave your ass a sharp spank to your cheek making you cry out with shock. Your butt wiggling at the stinging - but very pleasurable - slap to your ass. You whine as you cover your face from the lingering eyes, you did this until Sylus makes his way outside the club. His feet stop as he made it to his motorcycle where he had parked it.

"Sylus put me down!"

"I don't think so kitten you're in time out."

"Time out!?"

"Well, until you apologize and say that you won't ignore me. Otherwise, you'll be staying up here for a while~"

Is your boyfriend seriously putting you in air jail until you apologize for ignoring him. You sigh, rubbing your hand on your forehead, cheeks puff out as you try to wiggle out of this. But it was no use, as he held a firm grip on you. His hand running up and down your smooth back thigh, teasing yet comforting. Honestly it felt so much better having his hand on your thigh than that old man's hand. So much better.

"Mmm...sorry..."

"What was that kitten I couldn't hear you."

You can just hear the smirk on his face stretching. It made grumble more, arms crossed as you looked at the ground in defeat.

"I sorry, I won't ignore you anymore...now can you put me down! I'm starting to get dizzy here."

"Seems you have forgotten the magic words that go to that sentence."

You let out a long groan, your body slumping his his hold. You can hear his signature laugh which made you want to just hide away and curl up into a little ball. With man was going to be the death of you with his endless teasing.

"Please put me down."

Sylus lets out a hum of approval before setting you back down on the cement ground. You stumble a bit on your heels before looking up at him flustered. He grins down at you, eyes racking every part of your body making you feel so small. He raises a hand to caress your cheek affectionately. Sylus then leans down to give your lips a brief but passionate kiss on your glossed lips. You close your eyes leaning in gor more. All those times ignoring his advances made you realize just how touched starved you are with this man.

He pulls away, which made you whine - he definitely heard - moving to near towards your ear. Making you shiver feeling his breath against your skin lightly.

"Good girl, now let's get back home so we can make up properly. You kept avoiding me for so long, it's about time I take my well-deserved fill~"

════════════════════════════

CALEB

"Hmm...where are you pipsqueak?!"

A goofy smile made it to your face as you hide behind a tree from Caleb. Your back against the wide tree, looking over to see Caleb walking along the glassy fields slowly with a grin stretching his lips. Heart pounding in your chest at the prospect of getting caught by him. You try as much to stifle your own laugher or breaths as he inches closer to where you were.

It was a very bright warm day today, Caleb suggested going out and taking a nice walk around the park meadows nearby. You agreed to this and spent your whole day with Caleb as you walked around the park. Passing by kids who run along the sidewalk or hanged around the jungle gym. Food venders who you defiantly stop by, grabbing something to eat with their delicious food. And couples ranging from your age to elderly ones that sat on benches complimenting you and Caleb and your youth.

It was a very peaceful day.

Once you guys made it to the widespread meadow, you couldn't help but feel a bit playful with him. Before he could even say anything, you start to run away from him, taunting about how he couldn't catch you. Making Caleb grin with amusement and run right after you. The both of you laughing and giggling like little kids. It felt so cliche yet wholesome at the same time running after each other in a field of flowers. It was moments like these that Caleb treasures the most, just having so much fun with you, seeing the look of happiness on your face.

"[Y/N]! You can't hide forever."

You hear Caleb call out, but you didn't respond, as you were still hiding behind the tree you picked out. You slid down the tree into a kneeling crouch, staying as quiet as you could so he couldn't hear. You can hear the faint steps of shoes crunching on the grassy ground come closer and closer. Your heart pounding heavily inside your chest, until suddenly you couldn't hear his footsteps anymore.

You wait a few moments and still you couldn't hear Caleb, nor did he call out again. It was silent, too silent.

You got up from crouching and turn yourself around to look around the tree, seeing no trace of where Caleb was. This caused your heart to skip in fear. You curse inside your head before backing away, knowing Caleb probably would jump out and likely find where you are. You had to get out of there quickly.

And so you do back away.

Right into Calebs chest.

His lips right next your ear, with and evil smirk stretching across his lips.

"Gotcha~"

"Aah!"

Before you know it, his hands grappled your waist, immediately going into a full-on tickle fight. His fingers digging into your sides, tickling you with no mercy whatsoever. You laugh, tears pricking your eyes as you try to move away from his assault. But no, this boy had an iron hold on you.

"Caleb! Haha...w-wait nooo~!"

"After running from me, this is your punishment pipsqueak~"

You whine and moan trying to find a way to get out of this situation. It wasn't until you both found yourself on the ground where you had found an opportunity. His body towered over yours as he stops tickling you for a moment, watching as you trying to catch your breath. The moment you do was the moment you striked, as your hands were placed upon his shoulders. Pushing him over onto the grass with you straddling his waist.

"Ha! Take that!"

Caleb laughs grinning with playful mischief.

"The games not over yet babe!"

His hands are on your waist again as he then tackles you back down, rolling you onto the grass while he was right above you again. Your shock face turns into determination, taking that as a challenge. You roll over him again to pin him down, and he does the same. The both of you laughing about as the two of your rolled along the meadow, trying to pin one another.

It wasn't until Calbe gets dizzy that he stops this. Forcefully manhandling you down with much ease. His hands now pinning your wrists above your head. He pants heavily, looking down at you with his own victorious smile; his looming presence shadows your own body. You try to wiggle away with no avail, Caleb having too much of a hold on you. No match for his ridiculous amount of strength.

"Give up?"

You grunt before letting out a long sigh, head dropping on ground hair messy as well as your clothes. It was a simple pair of jean shorts and [F/C] shirt. He was messy as well, you can see a few grass strands cling to his body, shirt, and pants. A few specks of dirt here and there. His hair was messy, his dog tag necklace dangling above you. You can feel your cheeks heat up, defeated and embarrassed.

You grumble to yourself, looking away from his lingering gaze which made him chuckle. Thinking just how cute you were pinned beneath him, it made his heart flutter.

"Fine, I give up.

Caleb hums, "Good."

He leans down to kiss your lips making your eyes widen but lean into the kiss anyway. He pulls away only to cover your entire face with kisses, causing you to giggle from his cute actions. He continues to do this, even going down to your neck which made you chuckle even more.

Caleb then sighs blissfully in between you neck and shoulder.

He stops and let's go of your wrists, only for him to put his full body weight on top of you. His head laying on your chest nuzzling you, his eyes closed as he basks in this moment the two of you shared.

"Agh, Caleb your heavy...get off~"

"Hmm...nah, let's stay like this for a little while more..."

He says this holding you close like you were so teddy bear. You sigh as you look up at the clear blue sky, feeling the cool wind on your face making you feel a bit drowsy yourself. Your hands wrapped around his head, hands threading through his dark brown locks. Nails scratching his scalp making him groan, burring his head more into your chest.

Everything felt so peaceful and calm in that very moment.

That is until something shifts and prods against your mid-thigh.

"Uh...Caleb?"

"Sorry squeaks, you can't really blame me here."

════════════════════════════

XAVIER

He got a call from Tara.

Saying something about helping her with you in the mix of things, it sounded urgent. So of course, Xavier immediately got up to go over to where you were. You told Xavier that you were going out with Tara and Simone for a girl's night out. Just a simple date with the crew, drinking and some karaoke. He smiles to this, saying to be careful and have fun, giving you a kiss as he watched you head out.

And now he watches as you were singing your heart out to some random song, standing on top of a table, microphone in hand, as you slur the lyrics to the song badly. He watched this drunk you in action with amusement but worry. Tara was also there watching the hilarious scene, but she was sat next to Simone who was also heavily drunk, cheering you on with slurred "Whoos", her eyes barely open. Tara was holding her up as she was slumped against the couch, trying to get her to drink water.

"It's been like this for an hour; can you take care of [Y/N]. I have to get Simone back to her place; it's a bit far."

Xavier nods his head, "Yeah, I'll take care of her. You go on ahead."

Tara nods and she gets up bring Simone on her feet. She wobbles and whines about how she wants to stay more, but Tara declines that. She had already called a taxi to come pick them up. Both exit the room, leaving just you and Xavier. You didn't even know Xavier was in the room, to focused on the song at hand.

That was until Xavier grabbed the remote and paused the karaoke game on the tv, the room now silent, making you groan and turn to him. There was a pout on your face, but it soon turned to a goofy smile as you saw your boyfriend was here.

"Xaaavier, your here!"

You lifted up your arms joyfully making Xavier chuckle.

"[Y/N] what are you doing?"

You laugh.

"I'm singing obviously, duuh, c-come on up...and sing with meee~"

You start to dance on top of the table, making it wobble. And Xavier catches this, worried about your well-being.

"I think you done enough singing for today angel, how about we go home."

You turn to him with a sad pout.

"What? Nooo...the night is young just one more song pleeeease~"

"You're drunk [Y/N], you have to come home."

Your head shakes, as you crossed your arms like a child.

"How dare you good sir, I'm not drunk...can a drunk person dance like this!"

You then dance terribly on top of the table, limbs moving carelessly in the air, your skirt flowing with every movement of your hips. Xavier sees this and shakes his head with a laugh exiting his lips. He found this adorable; you completely wasted dancing like nobody watching. It almost made him wish he had his phone to record this silly moment of you.

But his amusement turned into worry as he saw the table wobbling again, this time more frequently.

"[Y/N], how about we get down-"

"No way party pooper, I'm not fini-"

The table buckled violently underneath you, causing you to stumble and fall. The microphone in your hand falling out and onto the floor with a loud thud. You gasp, heart pounding in your chest as you felt the scary sensation of falling. But Xavier being the quick person he is caught you just in time. His arms wrapped around your waist securely, as you had wrapped your arms around his neck. Xavier made your legs wrap around his waist, his hands holding your thighs so you wouldn't go anywhere. Your body was shaking from the frightening fall, sobering you up just a bit.

"Uhm...you know what...your right...I should probably get home...yeah."

You said as you try to calm your frantic heart, clinging onto Xavier like a life preserver. You can hear him chuckle at your words in your ear, his hand rubbing your back soothingly. He doesn't say anything but walk over to grab an un-open bottled water for you and your purse. His one hand still carrying you with no struggle. You can feel your heats heat up in embarrassment, as you and Xavier walked out of the karaoke room. A few passersby's watching confused at the situation.

You moan, hiding your face in his neck, you can feel the chill air of the night as Xavier walks out the building.

"Here, drink."

Xavier orders you to drink the water, presenting it to you. You grab the bottle, unscrewing the cap before taking a nice swig of water down your throat. One hand was wrapped around his neck while the other clutched the bottle, groaning at the cool refreshing water. Xavier continued to walk down the sidewalk, his hands clutching underneath your thighs that still was wrapped around his waist. You stop drinking the water when done, the liquid reaching the bottom of the bottle, as it was almost finished. You let out a long sigh, resting your head on Xavier's shoulder.

"Feeling a bit better?"

"Mhm..."

You mumbled with a yawn. There was silence between you two as Xavier continued to walk with you still in his arms. You can still feel the embarrassment still lingering in your cheeks. Your boyfriend seeing your dance ridiculously while also carrying you like a child. You can see a few more people walk along the sidewalk seeing this embarrassing situation you've gotten yourself in. You wiggle in Xavier's tight grasp he has on you. His manhandling on you getting to your head, but he doesn't care as he holds on to you tightly not wanting to let you go.

"Y-You know you can set me down now, I can walk."

Xavier smiles shaking his head. He leans into your neck giving you sweet butterfly kisses all before he nips at your neck with his teeth. Causing you to gasp and whine more, face hotter than before.

"No, I think I'll hold you till we get back. Who knows what will happen if I let you go. You might just climb up one of these lamp posts and start dancing~"

"Xaaavier.."

Yeah, you had a feeling he'd hold this over you for a while.

════════════════════════════

ZAYNE

"Are you going to wear those?"

That's the question Zayne asked you firsthand. Seeing you place on a pair of nice heels on. Heels that were a little higher than the normal pair of heels you would usually wear to a formal event. The two of you were going out to a fancy gathering with some of Zayne's collogues. There was a plus one, and Zayne asked if you had wanted to accompany him to which you had said yes. Knowing that he finds you company to these certain event barrable then if he had gone alone.

You looked up at him with a coy smile stretched across your lips. You hand leaving your feet as you just finished placing the second heel on your right foot. You stand up giving him a good spin around, showcasing your beautiful outfit to him. A long silver dress, your hair up in a tight bun, earrings, a necklace, and those high heels.

"What? The heels? You don't like them?"

Zayne doesn't say anything, only starting down at the shiny silver heels you wore. He adjusts his tie on his tux, as his body was facing a bedroom mirror.

"They're a bit higher than what you normally wear my love."

You get what he was saying to you, that these heels were too much. How he was worried you'd be too uncomfortable all throughout the evening wearing them. Getting yourself hurt making it unbearable to walk. But you were too confident and stubborn, thinking nothing of it when putting on these heels. You looked too good in your outfit, and these heels topped it off, you figured you could handle them.

"Yeah, but I can handle them perfectly see."

You walked like a model on a runway, showing him how you were comfortable with these heels on your feet. You then turn to him with a playful smirk, a hand on your hips.

"See, easy no need to worry I'm fine."

Zayne cocks a brow up as he looks at you for a moment, as if scanning your expressions. He then sighs rolling his eyes back over to the mirror he was facing, checking out his appearance for the final time.

"Alright then, don't come complaining to me when your feet are in agony."

You puff your cheeks at him, sticking your tongue out playfully.

"Oh please! I'm stronger than I look, I bet I can even last the whole night!"

Zayne lets out a small huff of a laugh, while shaking his head, a small but all-knowing grin curling the corner of his lips.

"I know you're strong honey, c'mon it's about time we head out."

And that's where are story leads us, to you sitting on an expensive couch in a private room with Zayne. Your legs and feet propped up on Zayne's lap as his rough hands massaged the soles of your feet. His suit jacket was off, as the sleeves of his black dress blazer was rolled up to his elbows showing his scars. You were dramatically laying back against the couch's armrest, letting out pitiful groans and whines. Your head was tilt back to the decorative ceiling; the feeling of Zayne's hands massage you making you sigh with relief.

Thirty minutes.

Once you reached the thirty-minute mark of wearing those heels, began the intense pain that came after it. You tried your best to stifle the pain away, tried to grin your best smile while taking to many of Zanye's collogues. But the searing pain of those damn heels digging into your skin, making your feet sore with every second. The constant ache with every step you took. Hell, you even stumbled a bit which made people question if you're okay which was embarrassing. It wasn't until you actually stumble and fall into you boyfriend's arms that you knew you were done.

Here was your boyfriend, guiding you to a private room away from the massive party of onlookers. Guiding you gently to the couch so you can sit. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't need to say anything because you already know what's going through his mind.

"I guessing this is the part where you say I told you so."

Zayne chuckles at your pouty tone. Even with your disgruntled appearance he still finds you absolutely gorgeous. One of his hands ran up and down your legs, your dress ridding up a bit, as his hands made contact with your thigh causing you to shiver. He gives you thigh a good squeeze before lifting your right foot up, making you quirk an eyebrow at him. But it soon went away when his lips pressed a chaste kiss against your ankle. Giving you a good number of kisses till he reached about twelve.

"I wouldn't stoop to such lows my beloved."

He speaks sending a painfully blissful pressure point to your bottom foot causing you to whimper. God, when it came to massages, he was so great at them, always manhandling your body, subduing you into a messy puddle.

"But I will say next time please don't compromise your own health just because of some fashionable clothes, okay?"

You look up at him, seeing his gentle expression towards you. Your heart flickers, giving him small smile back.

"Okay...sorry for cutting the party short."

"No apologies needed, I wasn't really focused on it anyway...now-"

Zayne had placed your legs and feet aside before standing up from the couch. He then gets his suit jacket and places it along your shoulders. He gets your heels in one hand, before wrapping his left arm around you to pick you up. You gasp in shock, wrapping your arms around your neck as he picks you up, one hand with ease. He gives you a smirk, making your cheeks flush and stomach twist.

"-Let's get you back home so I can take care of you."

"B-But wait! What about the others? Seeing me like this in your arms?"

Zayne only walks back to the door that led you to the private room, his right hand the held your heels operating to twist the door handle.

"I'll just say I'm tending to my dear patient who's in need of my assistance~"

And that's exactly what he said, though a big portion of embarrassment still resided inside you as you were carried away. All because a pair of some stupid heels.

════════════════════════════

[lvl1l1]

hello!!!! i loveee ur fics especially the sleeping on the couch one 🥺 can i please request a funny scenario of the lads boys surprise visiting the reader's apartment but we slam the door in their face because we're not "presentable" (bare face, hair up in a messy bun, etc) LMAO i hope that made sense it was funny in my head

I HOPE U HAVE A GREAT DAYYYY ❤️

LaDS men when you slam the door in their face

pairings: Xavier, Rafayel, Caleb, Zayne, Sylus x F!Reader

content: fluff, early relationships(yet their devotion knows no bounds)

a/n: i loved this idea, did write this while severely sleep deprived and haven’t checked for mistakes yet, hope you like it anyway

It was finally your day off. You’d been working tirelessly these past few days, you knew you deserved to just laze off now. You, an oversized hoodie, the couch and your comfort show were the only guests invited to this party. So imagine your surprise when a knock resounded on your door, your boyfriend standing on the other side, seeing you in all your bed-rotting glory.

Xavier

Xavier’s face lit up as soon as he saw you.

He knew it was your day off, he thought it would be a great time to spend some time with you and decided to head straight down to your apartment.

But before he could even muster up a greeting, your face was replaced with the door.

He blinked in confusion, unsure of what caused that reaction.

Did he upset you? Did you not want to see him?

As he raised his fist to knock on your door again, your voice came through, slightly muffled,

“I’m sorry, Xavier! I don’t look my best right now.”

Oh, so that’s what this was about.

“You look great. Even if you don’t think so, you could never be anything less than beautiful in my eyes.”

You leaned against the door, blushing at his voice, glad that he couldn’t see you right now.

“That’s… really sweet of you.”

“It’s the truth. Now, do you think we could have this heartfelt conversation face to face?”

You hesitated for a moment. To be fair, he wasn’t just your boyfriend, he was also your neighbour. It was just a matter of time before he saw you embrace the grease on a midnight snack run.

With an apologetic smile, you opened the door again and you immediately noticed the soft look on his face.

“Thank you.”

He looked at you with pure love in his eyes and it made you feel much better about your current state.

You stepped aside, letting him come in,

“I was just planning on slacking off today.”

His smile widened at that,

“Sounds like an ideal day. Room for one more?”

“For you, always.”

Rafayel

He barely had time to look at you, before he was back eye-to-eye with the door.

He was confused and slightly worried that he had offended you somehow.

Unsure of his next course of action, he looked around the hallway, making sure no one else saw.

“Did you forget you left the stove on or something, cutie?”

His words were casual but his voice showed betrayed him, showing his concern.

You hastily opened the door enough for him to see one of your eyes, leaning into the slit,

“I wasn’t expecting you today, otherwise i would’ve-“

Rafayel, ever the charming man, seemed to pick up on what was happening,

“Oh, cutie. I’m sorry for ambushing you like this but you don’t need to hide.”

The affection in his eyes made you lower your guard, loosening your grip on the door handle,

“I want to see every side of you. Besides, you always look like a work of art.”

He always managed to make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside,

“Braid my hair for me and you will be granted entranced.”

The artist laughed at that, nodding his head approvingly,

“You’ve got yourself a deal!”

Caleb

Caleb was excited for your reaction to seeing him but his thoughts came to a halt, when you opened the door.

He felt like the breath was knocked out of his lungs, moments like these made him feel like the divine maybe hadn’t abandoned him, after all.

Considering himself the luckiest man alive, getting to see you like this again, when you were relaxed, looking like an actual angel.

His inner monologue quickly came to a stop again, as he was met with the door.

Astonishment took over his features, as he took a moment to collect himself, before he called out to you,

“Everything all right?”

You bit your lip, holding back a groan, mumbling something barely audible to him,

“Caleb, your timing couldn’t be worse. I look like a disheveled cat!”

His lips curled up in amusement, liking your analogy.

“Oh, please. We’ve seen each other in much worse states. Need I remind you of how I used to hold your hair while you’d throw up when you were sick?”

You ripped the door back open at that, glaring at your boyfriend,

“Watch it, plane boy.”

The charming laugh that came next, had you weak in the knees.

You walked deeper into your apartment, leaving Caleb to catch the hint and follow in after you.

Zayne

Zayne’s usually impassive face sparked up momentarily, as he laid his eyes on you for just a second.

As soon as you realised who was standing opposite of you, he was met right back with the door.

He cleared his throat after a beat of silence passed.

Just as he raised his fist to knock again, regret slipped into your mind, as you quickly opened the door again, just enough for him to see your face.

You two made eye contact, his fist raised and your cheeks getting squished lightly in the crack of the door,

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Zayne lowered his hand again, not pressing you on the matter but you could still tell he was confused,

“Zayne, I look like shit right now, I’m sorry.”

His face remained unchanged, to the untrained eye, you knew he was taken aback by what you had said by the way he lifted his eyebrows ever so slightly.

“Do you take me as the kind of man, who cares about something like this?”

After some internal contemplation, you stepped back, letting the door open further and allowing Zayne to come in.

He didn’t say anything else, not commenting on what you had said, what you looked like, nothing.

He was treating you completely normally, because well, this was normal.

Or at least he was trying to make it normal, wanting you to feel comfortable enough around him to the point that you wouldn’t care what you looked like when you were with him.

You were thinking of how to express your gratitude for his sweet behaviour, when he beat you to the punch,

“Maybe for next time, don’t slam the door in my face again, please.”

Crossing your arms behind your back, you attempted to feign innocence.

He laughed, smiling.

He didn’t look mad or disappointed at all, maybe confused by your initial reaction but that didn’t last long.

Zayne could adapt quickly and why not use that as a way to keep you happy.

Whatever energy you needed him to match, he was down.

Just, please don’t slam the door on his face again.

Sylus

Sylus was wearing his usual smug grin, which for once, was wiped right off as you slammed the door in his face.

His hair getting tousled from how fast you swung that door close.

It was a shame you couldn’t see the dumbfounded look on his face, contemplating what caused a reaction like that.

“That was quite rude, sweetie.”

You pushed yourself off the door, that you were leaning against, realisation of what you had just done settling in.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming over?! I would’ve gotten ready.”

You almost missed the sigh he let out,

“Ready for what? We can just spend the day here.”

“Ready, as in presentable! I don’t want you to see me looking like a mess.”

Your voice got quieter at the end there and Sylus’s gaze softened again, understanding what this was about,

“You don’t need to worry about superficial things like that. You could never look like a “mess” to me.”

He was making this really hard.

Well, if he was here to stay, he’d see you like this eventually anyway, right?

You decided to step out of your comfort zone, opening the door with far more force than necessary.

You two were looking at each other for a moment, his gaze carried the same softness as his voice when speaking to you.

Sylus didn’t make a move, giving you the option to change your mind and tell him to leave, after all.

But you didn’t, telling him to come inside, teasingly saying that it was too late now anyway,

“You’ve seen me like this now, there’s no leaving anymore, Sy. In every sense of the word.”

His laugh felt like music to your ears.

[creative-frequency]

Bothering Them at Work

Headcanons incl. all LIs

Xavier

Is actually the one to bother you at work because no one has ever caught him doing paperwork. Ever.

“Are you still writing that report? Do you need my help?”

Proceeds to never be actually helpful but at the same time you know he would write the whole thing if you asked him to.

You will have time to work on that report only for as long as Xavier’s patience lasts.

Zayne

He has been stuck on that laptop past his 50 minute pomodoro timer.

Which means the next 10 minutes of break will be yours.

No matter what you do during those 10 minutes, Zayne will know when they’re up and make an attempt at getting back to his work.

“Is this a ploy to lure me away from the laptop?”

If you ask nicely and make a good offer, he will usually relent and put the laptop away anyways.

Rafayel

You’re the only one allowed to interrupt him while he is painting.

He is delighted when you do. Though he might whine about it.

He knows you wouldn’t bother him unless it’s something important – like being bored out of your mind, and that is something Rafayel can definitely help you with.

He tends to lose his sense of time when he paints, so it’s a good idea to remind him to eat and stay hydrated.

“Puh-lease, finishing this painting is more important than food right now, cutie.”

Sylus

He is not bothered at all when you cuddle up to him, just continues scrolling and tapping away on his phone.

When you straddle him, his eyes will instantly be drawn to you, one brow arched in question.

“Did you need me for something, kitten?”

If he has something he really needs to take care of, he will just do it, make you wait, and afterwards show how apologetic he is for it.

Caleb

He is a difficult one to bother because he syncs your work schedules so flawlessly. He will usually work whenever you do.

It’s more likely that he will be the one to bother you with his stares as you work.

However, just one pleading look from you is enough to make him put away whatever document or book he is reading.

Seriously, this man folds so fast – you’ve lost enough time already so something as mundane as his work won’t ever keep you from spending time together.

“How about a reward for all this hard work we’ve been doing? I have some ideas.”

[bitteriekitten]

gimmekiss.

synopsis — how they ask for kisses.

warnings — extreme doses of fluff

featuring — xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, & caleb (separate fics)

notes — i've been having too much fun writing these fluff pieces lately (i'm so lonely yall LMFSOASJA). this was inspired by the youtube essay i watched about sylus's subversion of the soulmate trope. i just thought – since sylusmc basically had to start all over – how would sylus navigate their intimacy. so have this !!!

Xavier, to me, is a no-nonsense man when it comes to kisses. If he wants kisses, he'll just get them directly from you, no need to ask. You'll be in the living room, your full attention at the TV drama unfolding on the screen when Xavier practically materializes beside you. You let out a muffled scream when he abruptly grabs your head to turn to him and plants a kiss onto your lips.

"Hey, warn me next time!" you scolded him, though your voice was void of actual contempt. Xavier just laughs and plants more kisses, still unsatisfied.

Zayne, though, is the complete opposite of Xavier. He's more reserved when it comes to kisses, even when it's just the two of you. He hesitates more, second-guessing himself even though he knows you'd never say no to giving him kisses. He never actually ends up verbally asking you to kiss him, instead he angles his face towards you ever so slightly, hoping you'll get what he was putting down.

"Oh you're so cute, Dr. Zayne." you giggled as you cupped his face and placed kisses around his nose and cheeks. Zayne smiled as he received your kisses, staying perfectly still.

Rafayel never shied away from displaying his neediness towards you. He was that comfortable with you, unashamed of letting you know that he just wants you near him at all times. He'd grab you the moment you step into his home, hugging you tightly with his hands roaming around your body. "You've been gone for too long, cutie." he whined, nuzzling his cheek against yours. "I think you're going to have to compensate with kisses."

"I was gone for an hour..." you told him, but obliged him nonetheless. You regularly attacked him with kisses to keep him satiated, but you know it'll never be enough for Rafayel.

As much as we all like to see Sylus as suave and cool, he still has some awkwardness to him. While his body has grown accustomed to your hugs and your touches, he always hesitates to ask for your lips on his, the words just at the tip of his tongue most of the time. One night while talking in bed, you've caught Sylus's eyes constantly glancing at your lips, followed by a hilariously heavy sigh. You decided to take matters into your hands – literally, by grabbing him by his shirt collar and planting kisses all over his face.

"Hope you've had your fill," you teased him after your surprise attack. Sylus looked disoriented, his face flushed, but the loopy smile on his face remained. "I might need more, kitten. Just to make sure..."

Caleb was no stranger to asking for kisses, even when you were both still in school. He's the type to point at his cheek and straight up ask you to kiss it for him. And you would oblige every time. He especially did this before doing something for you. This time around, now that he was officially your boyfriend, he still retains some of his flirty charm from his younger years. He still asks for a kiss on the cheek the same way, and you'd oblige in the same exact manner. But he turns his cheek at the last second, your kiss landing onto his lips instead.

"Hey! You're being sneaky." you reprimanded him with a giggle. Caleb giggled along with you, wrapping his arms around you to kiss you once more time.

[redcali]

can you write how each of the lads men would react when you tell them you want children? (or it could be any of them) (your fics are nice btw)

Reply: Yes that is so cute!! ────────────────────

✦ You tell the LADS men that you want children ✦

PAIRINGS: Xavier x reader, Caleb x reader, Sylus x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader TAGS: slight suggestive content, mostly wholesome cute fluff, short blurbs

────────────────────

“Xavier, I want to have kids.” You announce.

You two are currently in Jeremiah’s greenhouse, helping him tend to his flowers. Xavier’s hands still on a potted plant as he looks to you, his eyes wide.

 “Right here?”

“W-what?” Your face turns red. “No! Of course not! I meant, when we get back h–”

But Xavier is already pushing you up against the cool glass of the greenhouse, his chest against your back and fingers dipping below your waistband.

“Too late,” he hums, pressing soft kisses to your sensitive neck. “ You’re absolutely right – I want children too. Right now.”

You two are at Sylus’s favourite restaurant when you casually bring up that you want children.

Sylus’s hand stills, as he looks up at you from his steak with an indiscernible expression. You peer at him nervously, trying to gauge his reaction. Does he want children too? Is he okay with the idea of raising them?

“Anyways – that was just a thought – let’s talk about something else.” you quickly say.

The next day ── .✦

“Sylus!” You call out as you push open the door to Sylus’s apartment. You kick something by accident – a gold pacifier? You look down at it, beyond perplexed.

As you step into his apartment, you’re met with the sight of piles upon piles of various baby clothes and toys, stacked neatly across the living room and dining hall. You’re speechless. 

Sylus walks out into the living room in nothing but his red silk pajamas. He mimics your aloof expression when he sees you.

“What? You said you wanted children.”

“Sylus – it was just an idea!”

You notice something : ever since you’ve casually mentioned wanting children (you don’t think Caleb would even notice), Caleb has been seeming really fatigued, sometimes even dozing off in the middle of the day just to wake up with a start.

You don’t question why and just go about your day as usual.

Until one night, you wake up from a bad dream. You sit up groggily, yawning and rubbing your eyes tiredly, just to find Caleb missing from bed.

Instead, a dim glow radiates from the study desk. Caleb sits at it, carefully jotting down notes on a notepad that you’ve never seen before. You sneak over, and tackle him by surprise. Caleb lets out a yelp of surprise as you jump onto his lap.

“Pips! What are you doing, being awake right now?” he asks hoarsely. You huff. 

“I should be asking you the same thing.” You turn to look at his notes – and that's when you realise that they’re all about pregnancy and taking care of newborns. You giggle as you flick through his notes, and Caleb just looks at you with resignation.

“This is what you’ve been losing sleep over? You’re adorable.” you tell him, twisting over in his lap to squeeze him affectionately by his cheek. “10 health recipes for pregnancy? How to take care of newborns… side effects of pregnancy and how to manage them…damn, you’re thorough.”

“I need to come prepared, okay?” Caleb nips at your fingers. “I’ll make sure to take care of you when you’re bearing our child. I’ll make sure you have everything and anything you need. All for my wife.”

When you tell him that you want children, Zayne pauses for a second, looking at you carefully.

“Are you sure?” He looks at you with a gentle expression, reaching a hand out to hold yours. “I need you to be completely certain. This is a huge decision, after all.”

“Positive,” you reply eagerly. “Zayne, I’ve been thinking this over for months.”

“Okay. Give me a second.” Zayne pulls out his phone and clicks onto a contact, holding it to his ear.

“Greyson?” He pauses. “I’ll be taking a one week leave.”

Your jaw drops. Zayne? Taking a whole week off his job? That is unheard of. Zayne continues to dish out a couple of instructions to his assistant over call before he quickly hangs up. With his full attention back to you now, he leans forward and kisses you softly on the cheek.

“Zayne,” you say slowly. “What…why…”

“You want children, right?” A playful smile tugs at his lips. “We’ll have to work on that all week. That way, it can be guaranteed that you get what you want.”

Your face heats up at the implications of his words. Zayne leans forward once more, this time pressing his warm lips to yours.

“Let’s start now.”

“...so that’s why I want children.”

Rafayel gets flashbacks to those birth-giving videos he has the misfortune to chance upon.

“But, darling,” Rafayel says, sounding pained. “Giving birth looks excruciating. What a miserable process. I don’t want you to see you in pain, ever.”

You laugh at his words, squeezing his cheek. “Rafayel, it’s going to be OK.”

“Are you sure?” he frets. “I wish there was a way you don’t have to go through the suffering, ever. I wish I could be the one giving birth.”

When he kisses you, he is extra gentle in the way he holds and touches you. His hands snake down to your thighs as he pulls back to look at you with wide, adoring eyes.

──────────────────── .✦

[a-hermit-pining]

LaDs Men React to Your Different Hobbies

Request: Hi hermit! I noticed your requests are open and wanted to ask if you could write about a reader who is a complete nerd for something specific. It could be anything from anime, to reptiles, to astronomy, to novels, to literature, anything really. Maybe they start off more reserved and quiet but once they get comfortable they let the floodgates open and now the guys get to witness the pure, unfiltered joy when they talk about something they love. Bonus if they don’t necessarily seem like the type to be interested in that sort of thing. I just need something cute and fluffy where angst isn’t destroying my heart. It can be as silly and/or serious as you want it to be. You handle writing different scenarios so well I feel like you are the best when it comes to these kinds of scenarios. I hope this isn’t too big of an ask. Thank you for reading this! I hope you take care of yourself and that you have a good day/night! 🫶🫶🫶💞💞💞🍀🍀🍀

AN: I love this request so much!! I've been daydreaming of this so much. So here is my attempt at this. I hope you enjoy it! Thank you for reading my works :))))

Pairing: LaDS boys x gn reader

Genre: people in love

Ingredients: 100% fluff

My Fav: Sylus and Caleb. My heart 🥺

(I do not own any of these characters)

Xavier:

He’s your reader boyfriend. You’re the gamer. He’s just here for the vibes.

He’ll nuzzle next to you while you curse ten generations of a 14-year-old with suspicious aim.

Just peacefully flipping through a romance novel as you become the ultimate baddie of Vice City.

You can convert him to join you on the Switch. He loves Pokémon Go, Mario Kart, even those ridiculous farming simulators.

He’s that one PewDiePie cooking simulator video come to life.

Xavier is most likely to doze off with his legs crossed over yours, your moans of despair functioning as peaceful white noise.

You build him a castle in Minecraft, but he’s honestly more content just watching you game, cheering softly from the sidelines.

Rafayel:

You were born to repurpose.

A ratty old ladder? Planter. Scrap cloth? Braided technicolor rugs. Crumbling grandma furniture from eBay? It’s now a “boho-chic” nightstand that Rafayel lovingly uses to pile all seventeen of his earrings.

You steal his paints constantly. The good ones. The ones labeled in French. Does he mind? Not even a little. He calls it “collaboration.” (It’s theft, but okay.)

He watches you work like it’s the Louvre. Which is wild, because you’re in overalls, sanding down what used to be someone’s broken cabinet-slash-pet coffin.

You’ve got sawdust in your hair and paint on your ear, and Rafayel is just standing there, in awe, like you’re building the Sistine Chapel out of literal garbage.

You’re also slowly “Rafayel-proofing” the penthouse, one corner at a time. No more stubbed toes. No more nightly opera of him cursing the furniture like it personally betrayed him.

You call it DIY. He calls it love.

Perhaps it is.

Zayne:

You don’t have a green thumb. You have a green vendetta.

Zayne swears the plants grow out of fear. And honestly? He might be right.

The sunflowers outside your house are seven feet tall and actively reaching for the second-floor window like they want in. The neighbors have started calling it a local attraction.

He’s the one lathering you in sunscreen as you stand armed and ready to wage war on a new army of weeds.

He works from the patio more these days, just to sneak glances of you in the garden, sweat on your brow, yelling at a tomato plant like it is a new recruit to your battalion.

You plant a vegetable patch. A blessing, really. Because Zayne is an absolute wizard in the kitchen with fresh produce.

He’s obsessed with homegrown ingredients. You’re obsessed with terrorizing invasive species.

It works.

Sylus:

"You're pretty," you murmur, tilting his chin up with your fingers. "Now be good and sit still for me, dragon." You grin as Sylus shakes his head, pretending that didn’t just work on him.

You pick up your sketchpad, charcoal already smudging your fingertips, and begin tracing the outline of his eyes. Fierce, yet soft when they rest on you.

"Did I ever tell you your eyes are the most beautiful I’ve ever sketched?" you murmur, shading the lashes with a flick of your wrist.

"You say that about everything, kitten," Sylus replies smoothly, though there’s a hitch in his breath.

You love this. Overwhelming him with affection. Praise. Backing him into a corner where all he can do is take it. He never wins.

"And your cheekbones..." you say, smudging a shadow across the apple of his cheek. "So dramatic. So sketchable." You press a kiss there, just to prove your point.

His hand comes up to cradle the back of your neck, pulling you closer. You don’t resist.

Your eyes drift to his lips. "These," you whisper, eyes locked on his mouth, "I dare not draw. They’d inspire passions in anyone who might stumble upon this page."

He rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed, cheeks flushed. "You’ll be the end of me," Sylus groans softly. His voice all gravel and silk.

And you? You smile, smug and starry-eyed.

Because you’re Basil to his Dorian.

Caleb:

He’s lost you. Again.

Caleb wanders through the mind-boggling bookstore for the tenth time, the aisles blurring together. There’s no rhyme or reason why the classics are right next to cookbooks.

Achilles’ Fig Pastries and Twenty Cakes for Jane Austen Girlies (he bought that one for you).

So it’s no surprise when he finds you in the far-off corner of historical fiction. A pile of used books already half your height sits beside you. Books are your world. Rooms full of them. Brimming nightstands, stacked floors. Stories, so many of them.

Caleb grew up watching you devour them. Any and every book you could get your hands on. "You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope... I have loved none but you," you quote from Wentworth’s letter, just in time to meet Caleb’s eyes.

He pauses, heart in his throat. Words written by another shouldn’t hit this hard. But they’re true. Truer than anything.

Books have held your pining. They’ve understood your heart. And they’ve delivered it to him, in folded pages, tearstained stanzas, and scribbled notes of passion.

[dollyswishingwell]

I'm obsessed with your writing style!! Can I request the Love and Deepspace guys the very first time they take you shopping, wanting to spoil you and pick out pretty things for you, but you're still a little uncomfortable?

ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ Hesitation

𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 ˙⋆✮ Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 ˙⋆✮ fluffff, reader is a bit awkward, i promise i’ll be going through all the requests soon. i hope this is good :D

> ࣪𖤐.ᐟ You didn’t realise they’ve been waiting their whole life to take care of you

𝙍𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙡 °‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You didn’t even realize where he was taking you at first. One minute, Rafayel was humming beside you in the sun-drenched car, legs loosely crossed, wrist lazily draped over his knee, then the next, you were standing in front of a boutique with marble steps and gilded trim, its window displays shimmering with silk and starlight.

You looked up at him, confused.

“I thought we were just grabbing food?”

He smiled, soft and lopsided. “We will. After.”

Your arms stayed crossed as he nudged the glass door open, the cool air inside fragrant with expensive perfume. You hesitated on the threshold like it burned. The place was pristine, curated for a kind of woman you never thought to be, draped in chiffon, light on her feet, untouched by blood or plasma discharge.

“I don’t need anything.”

“I know,” he said simply. “But I want to give you something.”

He was already drifting inside, fingertips brushing lazily across a rack of pale-colored dresses like he was feeling textures of coral under the sea. His eyes were sparkling, pink and blue both. Not because he cared about the fashion. But because you were here.

You stayed by the entrance like an idiot, hand still on your belt. Rafayel turned, noting the stiffness in your shoulders. Then he padded back to you, soft, catlike steps, always a little too close.

“You look scared,” he teased gently, leaning in like he was about to share a secret. “It’s not a trap. Unless you count being emotionally manipulated by a pretty man who loves you.”

You huffed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re beautiful,” he said without flinching. “And always wearing the same six hunter outfits. They don’t even have proper pockets. Let me give you something nice. Please.”

The word please lingered in the air, rare and sincere. It made your throat tighten.

He tilted his head. “You don’t have to like it. Just try something on. For me.”

His tone was so unassuming, so earnest in its quiet request, it disarmed you. A little part of you, tired, sore, always on alert, ached to be indulgent. Just for a second.

“…Fine,” you muttered, glaring at a display dress like it personally insulted you. “But if I look stupid, I’m blaming you.”

Rafayel beamed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Deal. I’ll take full responsibility. Emotionally, financially, spiritually.”

He plucked the hanger and draped it gently over your arm like a crown being placed on royalty. You rolled your eyes, but didn’t shake it off.

And when you returned from the fitting room, unsure, awkward, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, he stared at you like the stars had rearranged themselves just to form your silhouette.

“…Okay?” you asked, arms slightly lifted in a self-conscious shrug.

Rafayel didn’t answer. Not with words. He just stepped forward and reached out, cupping your cheek with a reverence that made your chest hurt.

“I want to wrap you in every soft, lovely thing,” he murmured. “So the world never gets to bruise you again.”

You swallowed thickly.

“…That’s not how it works.”

He smiled sadly. “I know. But let me try anyway.”

𝙕𝙖𝙮𝙣𝙚 ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

The boutique was quiet, too quiet. The kind with glass shelves, polished floors, and a single attendant too nervous to breathe loud. The walls were lined with elegant neutral palettes, coats and dresses hanging like art. You shouldn’t have been here. Not in your boots, not with your hunters permit still sticking awkwardly out from your ID.

You shot Zayne a look.

“This is a little much, isn’t it?”

He didn’t look at you, fingers trailing steadily along the hem of a soft camel coat, his expression unreadable behind silver-rimmed glasses. “You’ll need something appropriate for the hospital gala.”

“I have a black dress.”

He hummed. “The one you wore to a funeral.”

You flushed, defensive. “It’s still in good condition.”

“I’m sure it is,” Zayne said coolly, lifting the sleeve of a deep plum cashmere number and inspecting the stitching like it offended him. “But I’d rather not have the director’s wife think you’re in mourning.”

You scowled. “You said she wasn’t your type.”

“She isn’t,” he said mildly. “But I’d still rather not.”

That earned him a look. You hated shopping. It always felt… vulnerable. You weren’t used to the stillness. The hush of indulgence. You’d spent years with utility belts and reinforced boots, shopping was for people with soft hands and quiet jobs. People who didn’t deal in violence.

Zayne stepped closer, voice lower, a hand ghosting over the small of your back without quite touching.

“You don’t have to like it,” he murmured, tilting his head just slightly. “But I do want you to have something that makes you feel beautiful. Not just… armed.”

You paused.

That soft hum in his voice, that was the problem. The way he said beautiful like it was a diagnosis. Like he could see it whether or not you did. You didn’t know how to handle that.

Still, you hesitated. “…I’m not going to prance around in sequins.”

His lips tugged just faintly. “Noted. We’ll keep it understated.”

You narrowed your eyes, watching him pull a gown from a side rack. Sleek. Minimalist. No fuss. Elegant in the way he was, muted but unmistakably sharp.

He handed it to you. “Try this.”

“…What if I hate it?”

“You won’t,” he said plainly. “But if you do, I’ll find you something better.”

You stared at him, suspicious. “How do you know my size?”

“I’m a surgeon,” Zayne said flatly. “I could recreate your spine from memory.”

You blinked. Your mouth opened. Then shut.

He added, deadpan: “Don’t look so horrified. I meant that flatteringly.”

“…That wasn’t flattering.”

Zayne’s lips twitched again, like he was holding back laughter. He didn’t press. Just waited silently until you retreated into the changing room.

When you stepped out, he looked up from where he’d leaned against the edge of a display table. His eyes flicked over you once, slow, assessing, steady. No smirk. No flattery. Just… a quiet, deliberate stillness.

You shifted, uncomfortable. “Too much?”

“No,” he said simply.

You gave him a skeptical glance in the mirror. He stepped behind you, fixing the off-shoulder sleeve with a careful touch, the fabric gliding under his fingers. His scarred hands looked too rough for the material, and yet he handled it, and you, with absolute precision.

“You don’t have to wear it to the gala,” he said, his tone low, almost absentminded as he adjusted the fit on your shoulder. “But I’m buying it anyway.”

You turned to face him.

“Because it’s pretty?”

“Because you’re pretty,” he said without hesitation. “And I like watching you be reminded of it.”

That stopped your heart for half a second.

“…You’re ridiculous.”

“Mm,” he hummed. “And you’re stalling. Go change.”

You stomped back into the dressing room before he could see you blush.

𝙓𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧 ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

You blinked up at the glittering storefront. Mannequins in flowing satin. Soft lighting. Gentle classical music humming in the background. The kind of boutique you passed without ever really seeing. Now here you were, standing just slightly to the left of Xavier, who was staring at the mannequins like they were alien lifeforms.

“…Are we lost?”

“No,” he said, almost serenely. “This is the destination.”

“…You brought me here on purpose?”

A small nod. His silver hair shimmered slightly under the soft lighting. His expression hadn’t changed since you left the train: calm, unreadable, borderline sleepy. But his hand was resting lightly against the small of your back, guiding you inside.

“I don’t need anything fancy,” you tried, already shrinking under the chandeliers. “I’ve got my uniform. I’m fine.”

“I know,” he said simply. “But I like seeing you wear soft things.”

That caught you off guard. You glanced at him, suspicious. “Soft things?”

He paused, thoughtful. “Like… clouds. Or the pastries you like. But on you.”

You blinked.

“…You mean dresses.”

Xavier tilted his head. “I mean things that look good when you spin in them.”

You didn’t even know what to say to that. You were still in your boots. Still carrying the tension of your last mission between your shoulders. You didn’t belong in a place like this.

As if sensing that, Xavier stepped in front of you, hands clasped behind his back. His voice was quiet, but steady. “Do you feel uncomfortable?”

“…A little.”

A beat.

“I will fix it.”

You blinked. “What—”

But he was already off, sifting through a row of garments with the exact same eerie calm he brought to dismantling illegal protocore traders. It didn’t matter if it was dress racks or combat briefings, Xavier was methodical, careful, and just slightly tilted from what was expected.

He returned with a gauzy lavender number draped over his arm. He held it out to you without a word. You stared at it.

“Try it,” he said simply.

“I’m not even sure it’s my color.”

“I am.”

You gave him a flat look. “And when did you become a fashion expert?”

“I’m not,” he said. “But I am very good at observing you.”

Your ears grew warm.

You reluctantly took the dress and disappeared into the fitting room. The whole time, you expected to look ridiculous. Like someone else entirely. But when you stepped out.

Xavier was already watching.

His expression didn’t change.

But something… softened.

He approached slowly, the tips of his fingers brushing over the hem of the dress like it might melt. Then, without a word, he reached up and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His gloved fingers didn’t touch your skin. But it still made your breath hitch.

“…You approve?” you asked, trying to sound dry.

“I do not understand what others consider beautiful,” he murmured. “But I like how you look. I like how you always look.”

You stared up at him. He was still expressionless. Still strange. Still not quite human in how he moved, or spoke, or tilted his head when he looked at you like the galaxy stopped turning.

And yet, your heart squeezed.

“…You’re being really weird.”

“I know,” he said softly. “But I’d like to buy it for you.”

You hesitated.

He added, “You don’t have to keep it. You don’t even have to wear it. But if I imagine you spinning once in it, in a room filled with light, then it’s worth it to me.”

You looked away, ears burning.

“…Fine. But only if I get to choose something you wear next time.”

Xavier nodded solemnly. “Deal. I will wear a pastry if you ask me to.”

“What— no, Xavier—!”

Too late. He was already at the counter, wallet in hand, gently coaxing the boutique worker to wrap it in tissue.

𝙎𝙮𝙡𝙪𝙨 ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩

You’d expected the mission briefing. Trying out new weapoms. Maybe some recon.

You had not expected Sylus to park the car outside a luxury fashion district and say, lazily:

“Get out. We’re shopping.”

You frowned at him.

“You’re joking.”

Sylus didn’t blink. Didn’t even look at you. Just adjusted the black blazer hanging off his shoulders and tilted his head slightly, the red crow brooch catching the light.

“Do I look like I joke?”

You muttered under your breath, “You look like someone with twelve armories and no sense of moderation.”

He smirked. “And you look like someone I’d rather not have wearing knockoff tactical gear while standing next to me.”

Your glare deepened.

“I like this gear.”

“It’s functional,” Sylus said airily, guiding you toward the automatic doors with a hand at your lower back. “But function doesn’t always win wars. Sometimes presence does.”

You knew better than to argue when he was in this mood, calm, smug, and quietly plotting something three steps ahead. He wasn’t just taking you shopping. This was a statement. And you had no idea what kind.

Inside, the boutique was all mirrors and low lighting. The kind of place that didn’t display price tags, just power. A clerk stepped forward. Sylus didn’t speak to her. He just gave her a look, and she vanished into the back to fetch whatever he wanted.

You stood stiffly. He leaned against a gold-trimmed display table, watching you with idle amusement.

“I don’t need you to buy me things,” you muttered.

“I didn’t ask what you needed,” he replied smoothly. “I do what I want.”

You crossed your arms. “Why?”

That made him pause. His red eyes flicked toward you, sharp and gleaming. Then, softly:

“Because I like the idea of you wrapped in luxury. Because I enjoy watching you realize how easily you could own every room you walk into.”

A beat. Then he added with a smirk:

“And because I’m shallow and get bored. So this is also entertainment.”

You scowled.

Moments later, the clerk returned with gowns, gloves, heels, even jewelry, rich reds, deep blacks, all materials that shimmered like oil or bled like wine. Sylus didn’t touch a single one. He just looked at you expectantly.

“No way,” you said, hands raised. “I’m not trying those on.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m a hunter, not—”

“Not what?” he interrupted, stepping closer. “Not someone who deserves to be admired? To feel powerful in ways that don’t involve blood or bullets?”

You froze.

Sylus smiled, slow and knowing.

“Let me rephrase,” he said softly. “Go try them on. Or I’ll carry you to the fitting room myself.”

Your stomach flipped.

You grabbed the nearest piece and fled.

When you stepped out again, blood-red velvet, cut close and dangerous, Sylus’s expression didn’t shift. But his gaze burned. He tilted his head slightly, his tongue pressing lightly to the inside of his cheek, almost like he was savoring something.

“Well,” he said at last, voice low. “Look at you.”

“…Too much?” you asked stiffly.

“No,” he murmured. “It’s perfect.”

You swallowed. “I’m not used to this.”

“I know,” he said. “That’s why we’re practicing.”

You blinked.

He stepped closer. Lowered his voice. “One day, you’re going to rule rooms like this. You’ll walk into a place like this, and no one will question the cost of anything. They’ll ask if it pleases you. And I’ll be the one standing behind you, amused.”

Your heart stuttered.

“…You think I’ll be like that?”

“I think,” Sylus said, reaching up to adjust a strap with slow, calculated fingers, “that you already are. You just haven’t seen it yet.”

You stared at him.

He leaned down, brushing a soft kiss against your cheek like he was crowning you with it.

“Now pick a few,” he murmured. “Before I lose patience and buy out the store.”

𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙗 ⋆｡ ‧˚ʚ🍎ɞ˚‧｡ ⋆

You were supposed to be getting parts. Weapons. Something for your mission. Not… standing awkwardly in front of a boutique window while Caleb stood beside you, hands in his pockets, watching you like you were the only star in the sky.

“I don’t need anything,” you muttered.

“I know,” he said softly, “but I want to give you something anyway.”

You turned to him, skeptical. “Why?”

Caleb smiled. Not the playful grin you remembered from childhood, but a softer, grown-up version. Sadder. Warmer. More dangerous.

“You work hard. You never ask for anything. You always think you have to handle everything alone.” He tilted his head. “Let me spoil you, just this once.”

You glanced at the boutique. Soft lighting. Silks and crystals and delicate things you’d never wear in a cockpit. Not your world.

“I’m not the type to wear stuff like this.”

Caleb stepped closer. You felt it before you saw it, the sudden change in pressure, the weight of his presence, like his Gravity Evol was always humming just beneath the surface, calibrated just for you.

“You don’t have to be,” he said quietly. “You’re you. That’s all I want.”

You hesitated.

And then, just like he used to do when you were kids, he reached out, tugged your sleeve lightly, and leaned in with a teasing whisper, “C’mon. You didn’t say no when I bought you five extra sticker packs that summer, remember?”

You blinked at him. “You told Gran they were on sale.”

“They were. Emotionally.”

You laughed despite yourself, and Caleb’s smile brightened. Not cocky. Not smug. Just sincere.

And before you could stop him, he was gently guiding you through the door, palm on your back, already talking to the assistant about “something soft, something pretty, something in her color.” The way he said it made your skin burn.

Inside, you tried to retreat, but Caleb was persistent in the way only he could be. Not pushy. Just present. Patient. Like he knew how many steps it would take for you to give in.

He held up a deep plum piece, simple but elegant, and tilted his head.

“I think this one’s pretty,” he murmured. “It matches your eyes.”

“…Yours are purple,” you pointed out.

He smiled again, and this time, there was heat behind it. “Exactly.”

You snatched the outfit from his hand and stormed off to the changing room just to get away from the flutter in your chest.

When you stepped out, uncomfortable and tugging at the fabric, he was already sitting there, waiting. Legs spread, one arm draped over the chair, dark brown hair slightly tousled from his flight jacket.

His gaze traveled down your body slowly, taking in everything.

“…You like it?” you asked, fidgeting.

He didn’t answer immediately. Just stood, walked over, and reached to fix the collar.

“I love it,” he said, voice low. “But I’d love it more if you didn’t look like you were about to bolt.”

“I’m not used to—”

“I know,” he cut in gently, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth. “But I’m going to keep doing this. Slowly. Until you believe it’s okay to let me take care of you.”

Your heart thudded.

He looked down at you, purple eyes glowing softly.

“Because I always have,” he whispered. “I always will.”

And when the assistant brought out a pair of heels that matched perfectly, Caleb took them from her hands, crouched in front of you, and, before you could even protest, slipped one on with the same calm focus he used when piloting his favourite aircraft.

“…Cinderella moment?” you asked, flustered.

“Mm,” he smiled, still crouched. “No. My girl doesn’t need saving. But she deserves everything beautiful.”

[coralquill]

LADs headcanon for witch mc who causes so much chaos with her little talking cat familiar. Just how they'd handle all the explosioives, floating books, etc. or maybe how they found out 🤔

Ahoy, thank you for requesting! ngl that was a fun piece I enjoyed writing. hope you enjoy!

pairings: xavier x reader || zayne x reader || rafayel x reader || sylus x reader || caleb x reader

contents: comedy, reader is a witch with a cat familiar || wc.602

— XAVIER

Xavier would initially welcome your cat into his apartment. But once he learnt it could talk, he tried to kick it out countless and countless of times, jealous it might take away your attention.

He'd wake up from naps to find the whole apartment in chaos and disarray after you had practiced your spells on his stuff.

And to top it off, he'd always find your cat perched on the headboard, surely staring at him all throughout his nap.

What a day...

— ZAYNE

Zayne would sigh for the fifth time that day, seeing as you commanded the documents and files of his work to fly around in his office. He needed them to finish up work and call it a day, but apparently, you had other plans.

At least your familiar cat was napping on his lap, allowing him to pet it. That was a first. Cats usually ran away from him.

"Behind my ear, please," the cat demanded.

Zayne stopped mid-action. An oh was all he could utter before he did as instructed.

The cat talked.

— RAFAYEL

Rafayel wasn't new with witchery or witches, as he used to work with one long ago. Though he would jump out of his skin upon knowing you have a cat familiar following you around, and his soul would leave his body the moment he'd hear it talk.

After getting used to your cat and your shenanigans, he'd ask you to try out a new way of painting with him. Flying paints and brushes would fill the high areas of the studio, swirling through the air as they created splashes of art on the canvases.

"That's a job well done, cutie! Thank you for helping me!" Rafayel would thank you for your efforts, standing up to admire the artworks from afar.

"I do agree." Your cat joined him.

Thump.

You turned towards the sound, only to find Rafayel passed out and sprawled on the floor, your cat tapping its paw against his cheeks to wake him up.

Oops. Guess Rafayel hadn't fully gotten used to your familiar.

— SYLUS

Sylus was used to chaos and disorder, his line of work never offered peace and especially with Luke, Keiran, and Mephisto, the chaos-inducing trio, working under him.

He'd ask you to borrow your powers to wreak havoc and threaten those who cross his path.

Your cat followed you everywhere, supplying you with spells materials and potions ingredients. It reminded him of his relationship with Mephisto—providing him with intel, footage, and sensitive case files.

He didn't pay the cat any mind—until it spoke.

"Your cat talks." Sylus noted, utterly unfazed, as if talking cats was a standard part of his afternoons.

"Oh, whoops, I forgot to tell you." You smiled sheepishly.

And your cat snickered.

Pursing his lips, Sylus nodded in acceptance.

He couldn't say it was the most unusual thing he had ever witnessed. He'd seen stranger.

— CALEB

Caleb wouldn't mind the chaos you'd create, as he'd use his gravity Evol to tidy up after. He'd let you have your fun, commanding brooms to have sword fights mid-air, and tea leaves creating whirlwinds in teacups. But no matter what, everything got returned to its rightful place at the end of the day.

That was until he passed the mirror hung at the hallway—

"What's cookin', good lookin'?"

Ah, you had enchanted the mirror to flirt with passersby. Classic.

"Got lost in your eyes? You've been staring at your reflection for a while."

And that was one of the few things he had zero clue on how to fix.

"Pip-squeak! The mirror is feeling flirty again!"

likes and reblogs will always be appreciated ♡ let me know what you think!

— set sail for more tales, sailor: ⚲masterlist

— until next tide, thanks for docking by ｡𖦹°‧𓇼

© coralquill 2025 – do not copy, steal, or translate my work.

[mwphisto]

LaDs Men and the nicknames they love

Pairings include: Xavier x Reader | Rafayel x Reader | Zayne x Reader | Sylus x Reader | Caleb x Reader

Warning, this post contains: very light smut, nothing super detailed but definitely suggestive! Also fluff! Read at your own risk!

A/N: all moving banners in the post are by @cafekitsune + please be kind, as these are just my opinion / nicknames I have for them in game and in writings I’ve done. I had fun with this one! I def have more to write so you’ll be seeing more of me soon, thank you for the support!

Xavier

🐰Baby

Xavier isn’t sure what it is about the nickname. It’s so popular, so widely used, almost cliche. Some couples even find it cringy, and for him? It’s pretty damn modern. Maybe that’s why he loves it so much. Something about the way you sound when you call him baby, the tone of your voice, the caress of your fingers. That soft and sleepy “good morning, baby.” Sends his heart into a frenzy. It sparks kiss, then two, then three, and suddenly you’re making out and he’s shoving down his sweats to get inside of you.

“Keep calling me that, please. Need you to keep calling me your baby… I love it so much… fuck!”

🐰Xavi

Simple, sweet, playful. The first time you uttered the shortened version of his name, blood rushed to Xavier’s face. It wasn’t expect it, and for some reason it gave him cuteness aggression. He felt the need to tug you close, suffocate you with his hugs and kisses and maybe slip a nibble or two in there. However, the nickname could be used as a weapon against him. You’ve become prone to using it when he’s mad or jealous. “C’mon, Xavi! He was just giving me bread.” Yeah sure, just bread. That’s the first step, next is getting into your bed. Still, there is nothing he loves more than that nickname.

“Xavi, he’s just giving me bread!” His tone is higher, mocking you as he pounds you into the mattress. Xavi being the only name you can utter as he fucks you utterly senseless.

🐰Bunny

A classic. He just… he’s so… you know? How can you not? He’s your little bunny boy, your sweet, totally innocent bunny boy. You usually call him bunny through text, sending him selfies with the bunny plushie he won you in the claw machine (seems he had a new enemy). Bunny has also become a dual nickname, he’ll call you bunny right back whenever you’re excited or… riled up. It just suits him, suits you, makes perfect sense. “we also tend to fuck like bunnies.” A prompt slap to his bare shoulder sent him into a giggling fit.

“Tell—ha—tell me I’m wrong, my lil bunny…”

Rafayel

🐚 Bub or Bubba

This nickname just came so naturally once you and Rafayel had officially began dating. It just slipped out one day and Rafayel didn’t point it out — simply because he didn’t think you noticed. Then, it happened again, and again, and again. The variation between bub and bubba and sometimes both came out within the span of a minute. Eventually he teased you about it, but you claimed you couldn’t help yourself because he was just too cute. “If you can call me cutie, I can call you bubba.” Rafayel wasn’t complaining though.

“My sweet girl.” A gentle coo in your ear as he hugged you tighter from behind, lips ghosting the shell of your ear as his hips grind forward. “Let your bubba take care of you.”

🐚 Guppy

Rafayel had a huge love hate relationship with this chosen nickname. Initially he had gotten a little defensive, pouting his lips and puffing his cheeks and accidentally reinforcing your love for the nickname in the process. Now? He actually had to admit he thought it was pretty cute. Especially when you’d waltz into his studio, arms wrapping around his neck as you peck his cheek. “Is this your latest piece, guppy? It looks beautiful already!” The nickname was sweet, so sweet it made his cheeks warm every time you used it.

“You like this, huh guppy?” He was going to lose it, tugging against the silk restraints with a frustrated whine. “C-course…” but you fixed him in place with a cool stare “I mean… yes!”

🐚 Raffie

It came out while play fighting one night and Rafayel made you repeat it three times before bursting into a fit of giggles. He’d never heard anyone make his name cute before, so it was only right that his cutie was the one to do it. Though, there was also the argument that he had never let anyone get as close to him as you were. So, in a sense, the shortened and cute-ified version of his name was yours for the taking. It always had been, he was certain of it. “Raffie, what are we gonna do today? Wanna walk on the beach?” Or “Raffie, you’re wiggling too much I’m trying to sleep” no matter the context, Rafayel loved hearing the little nickname from you.

“R-Raffie! Feels so… good please don’t stop!” Your hips jerk against his lips, a fist full of his hair in your fingers: still, the nickname slipped past your lips. You weren’t far gone yet.”

Zayne

❄️ My Love

Just like all of your nicknames for him, none of them really shone through until after the surgeon and you made things official. So, it should be no surprise that Zayne’s face turned a shade of crimson the first time you said it. “My love, where did you put my reusable cup? I need it for training tomorrow.” Poor thing, he short circuited for a good two minutes before finally telling you where the cup had been moved to. Once he was used to it? Zayne started using the nickname back at you. “My love” became a common phrase.

“My love, I’ve missed you—“ a kiss “—so damn—“ another kiss “much…!” You were all over each other, two weeks apart due to surgeries and missions really caught up to you both.

❄️ Sweetheart

You picked it up from the man himself. Every time Zayne called you sweetheart, you found yourself calling it back. Turns out you were both creatures of habit. Whatever one did, eventually the other would pick up. “Goodnight, sweetheart. Don’t stay too late, those files can always wait for the next shift.” Your voice filled this ear, a gentle sigh leaving Zayne’s lips as tired eyes scanned over his computer screen. “Don’t worry, I’ll be mindful of the time. I just have to do one more round and I’ll be on my way home. Don’t wait up for me.” The sweet nickname was the mood boost Zayne needed to finish his shift.

“Hi, sweetheart.” It was groggy, a kiss on your brow was all you needed to know your lover was home. “Hi, my love.” You shivered at the cool sensation of his hands slipping under the covers, roaming your skin in search of some much needed warmth.

❄️ Zaynie

A nickname that you had used on him since childhood, and yet it never failed to make his heart beat just a little faster. As cute as it was, it carried a level of intimacy and domestic nature that made Zayne smile. “Zaynie! It’s your day off, what do you want to do?” And — astra help him — he could think of serval things he wanted to do that didn’t so much as involve leaving his bed. You were just too cute for his heart to handle, so sweet and beautiful and— well it is his day off after all.

“How about this, my love… does this work?” Your mind is reeling, a quite plea if “zaynie…” leaving your lips out of habit.

Sylus

🍷Handsome

Sylus could have fainted the first time you called him handsome. You had done it so nonchalantly, so genuinely too, for the first time the leader of Onychinus didn’t know what to do with himself. You noticed, of course, the little hitch in his breath and the widening of his eyes. And you didn’t say a word, just tucked it in the back of your mind for later. Eventually he got used to you calling him handsome, but it didn’t stop the flutter in his chest when you did. “Morning, handsome. Are we going to go for a walk?” Sure, a walk works, but he can think of way better things to do to… warm up.

“S-so handsome, my ha-handsome boy—“ Sylus groaned, hips swiveling against yours. “Still praising me? What a good girl…”

🍷My Beloved

He thinks you got the nickname from him, considering he’s called you it a handful of times himself. So, it becomes a shared nickname for eachother, and Sylus finds himself grinning like a fool whenever he hears you calling him. “Are you ready to go, my beloved?” Your hand is extended towards him, you’re both dressed to the nines, and he swears the butterflies in his chest are about to break through his damn rib cage. “Course I am, beautiful.” With a shaky little breath, his fingers intertwined with your own. Now? It was time to get the job done… hopefully he could focus for that long—

“Couldn’t help yourself, beloved?” This wasn’t exactly your first time getting pressed up against a wall by your lover while on a mission. And it certainly wouldn’t be your last… “you know I’m insatiable.”

🍷Sy

It was so effortless falling from your lips that Sylus barely noticed it the first few times you had used it. It wasn't until the twins had begun to chuckle that Sylus picked up on the key detail his brain had been glossing over. "So domestic, boss!" to which the two of them were banished from the kitchen. All you could do was laugh, a dopey grin on your face as your lover approached you with mock disdain. "Using a nickname in front of those two... what a dangerous game you're playing, kitten." You could only continue your giggling, even as he picked you up and placed you on the marble countertop. "Naughty naughty..."

"S-sy! Sylus! Shit- slow down!" But he could feel you thrusting your hips backwards to meet his erratic thrusts. "You're so indecisive -ha- kitten."

Caleb

🍏 Honey

Caleb had been cheeky back when you pretended to be his girlfriend, using the pet name as frequently as he could to really sell the act. But, somewhere along the way after things became official, you had begun to use the term genuinely. "Hi honey." Here and "honey, where did you put the laundry detergent?" there and suddenly he was doing it too. It made him feel warm and fuzzy every time you uttered the phrase, and he didn’t dare tease you about it in fear that you’d stop using it all together. He could be your honey any time.

“You like that, honey? Like when I do this?” His lips are all over your chest, nipping and sucking and licking. “Bet you do, you’re as sweet as honey… how about I give you some of my honey too?”

🍏 Lover Boy

It had started as a joke, you even changed his name in your phone to the silly little name. Then? It was something that stuck. He’d say something to you with hearts in his eyes and you couldn’t help but chuckle, a fond smile on your face as you whisper “okay, lover boy, whatever you say.” Other times, you’d come home from work with a tired expression on your face and sleepily mutter it. And fuck did it drive Caleb wild. Sometimes he’d even use it against you, just to see your face fall apart as he pressed his body against yours, whispering the beloved nickname in your ear.

“This is what you want your lover boy to do, huh? Fuck this pretty pussy stupid with his cock? Yeah, good girl, I bet.”

🍏 Kay (pronounced like a shortened version of his name)

You’ve used the nickname since childhood, a shortened version of his name that he’s become damn near trained to respond to. “C’mon, Kay, please?” Anytime you’d want him to cook for you, or do your share of chores, or when you needed help with your homework. The list goes on and on, but Kay was such a special term to him. He loved how sweet and natural it felt coming from your mouth. Even if you were whining a majority of the time you used it.

“Kay! C’mon! Harder!” You’re flushed and drooling, nails biting into his shoulders as you plead with him to fuck you just a little rougher.