goldenstring6123

[goldenstring6123]

Lnds: Red tinted lover

Warning: No warnings! GN!reader, fluff and teasing.

Author's note: Inspired by a cute ramble of anon!

What makes Zayne blush:

Compliment him and brag about him in front of his peers and yours. Being his lover, you observed a lot of things from him. Zayne performs minuscule acts of kindness when the situation calls for it, and sometimes, he does it in private, hidden from others' sight. When you bring these up, most people are impressed, but Zayne, on the other hand, is just beside you or nearby, listening to you ramble about his actions.

"You're super red."

"I am not," he politely replied.

"Yes, you are," you said in a singsong. "You're super red like a tomato. Is it because I complimented you a lot?"

Zayne doesn't respond and avoids eye contact. You cup his cheeks, and he is forced to look at you, wide eyes wide open. What he sees is your cheeky grin; behind it is the real intent of why you said those things about him. "Aren't you just the cutest? The cold and stoic Dr. Zayne blushing because his lover complimented him. Wouldn't that make a good headline for the hospital publication?"

You grab the opportunity to pinch his nose lightly, and he pulls away, no less red than before.

"You're so cute, I just want to—" You made a gesture of your fingers squeezing his cheeks.

"I can't help but think that you orchestrated this to get a reaction from me."

"Maybe I did, maybe not." You shrugged with a chuckle, giving him a sly expression.

"Cunning as always." The surgeon shook his head and turned away, hoping that he would return to his original complexion before someone else saw him.

What makes Rafayel blush:

Claim him and be jealous. Rafayel is naturally a magnet for people. No matter how much he likes his peace, people would flock to him all the time, both boys and especially girls. Sometimes, he has a hard time turning people down and is overwhelmed by their presence; he's sometimes unable to refuse a picture or two. That's when you come in. Confidently, you would hook yourself onto his arm and lean on him. When people ask who you are, you would say your name. And when people ask what you are to Rafayel, you would simply reply: "I'm Rafayel's wife. Do you need something from my husband?". The ladies who had ulterior motives backed away almost instantly.

"You're really a woman magnet, aren't you Rafa—" You turn to look at him in exasperation but pause. "Rafayel?"

The artist was avoiding your eyes. He was facing you, but his head was turned elsewhere, and he was biting his lip. Moreover, his cheeks and neck were severely red, almost looking like a rash.

"Are you alright? Is it the alcohol?"

He gave you the silent treatment for a good 15 seconds before saying: "You really know how to get me going. Calling yourself my wife and all."

"Hey, I was helping you out there!"

"You're really bold."

You can't help but analyze him for a moment. He doesn't seem offended, and you didn't do anything particularly wrong…

Is he…

"Are you feeling shy?"

He glared at you, puffing his cheeks. A hearty laugh escaped your lips. Rafayel narrowed his eyes even more.

You press up against him and go on your tippy toes, smirking. "You're feeling shy because I called you my husband, weren't you?"

"Did not." He crossed his arms over his chest, but everything else says yes.

"Did too." You pinch both sides of his cheek, and he stares at you in awe.

"Aren't you a little bashful pufferfish?" He took a step back and turned around, facing the wall to avoid your little confrontation. But you can still see the nape of his neck, and his ears turn maddeningly red.

"Cutie~"

"You're getting more shameless by the minute. Once we get home, I'll take my revenge on you!"

"Sure you would—little blushing pufferfish." You cooed, slapping his butt before walking away.

"I swear on my words!" You hear him say.

What makes Sylus blush:

You can make Sylus blush if you boldly flirt with him and touch his butt. Being a feared man would mean that people would want to spend little to no time talking to him unless it's a negotiation—it's no surprise that people are on edge if they're talking face-to-face with a dangerous leader. When it comes to you, however, it looks like you don't fear anything in life when you try to pretend that you're a stranger and hit on him like one would in a bar.

"Hey, hot stuff," you're pressed against the doorframe, looking too suave for your own good. "You new here?"

He stares at you while he garnishes the steak on the plate. He raised an eyebrow. "Yes," he said simply, but evidently playing along with your antics.

"Do you need someone to accompany you, handsome?" you asked, walking closer.

"I am an engaged man," he matter-of-factly stated with a nod, turning to his task once more. "A loyal one at that."

While he does whatever he's doing, your eyes land on the prize. "Really now?"

That perky gifted butt, accentuated by his slim-fit black pants. You licked your lips and walked casually to where he was. "A wife shouldn't leave his husband alone now, shall they?"

He hummed.

"You're too handsome to be tied to a single woman," you whispered. "Care for another cuter company?"

When he looked at you, you slapped his ass.

He shot up and gripped the pepper mill tighter. Sylus let out a singular laugh, placing it down on the counter and rubbing his face, hiding the reddishness of his ears. "You really ought to know who you're dealing with, sweetie."

He pushed himself away from the counter and walked closer to you, a sense of doom swallowing you as he got closer and closer with every step. Sylus bent down and picked you up by your knees, throwing you over his shoulder before a loud slap reverberated in the room.

Sylus returned the gesture to your ass.

He began walking towards the bedroom. "Sylus, I'm just kidding! No! Sylus! No! Ah?!" You clawed and held on to the doorframe, your life flashing before your eyes.

What makes Xavier blush:

Coax him to do something cute. It was easy to make Xavier blush as long as you were in the right environment. Sometimes, making him blush deliberately is also easy if you manage to play your cards right. It's not that he hates acting cute, but no one ever really asks him to do those things and wear cutesy stuff, so when you ask him to do it, he's a bit reluctant, but he doesn't want to disappoint.

"I promise I did not eat the last cake slice." Xavier placed his hand on his chest.

"Hmm. I don't believe you." You held out the empty Tupperware with an accusatory glare thrown at your boyfriend. "Wear the headband behind you and say 'Nyaa' three times. If you don't, then you're lying."

His eyes went wide. He slowly turned behind him and saw a conveniently placed cat ear headband resting on the console table. He held it and looked into your eyes with pity; a part of him smelled like something was going on, but you kept up the angry facade.

He sighed and put the headband on. Balling his fists and letting out cute 'nyaa~'s. With every sound he makes, he turns a shade darker until his face is fully red, and his eyes dart away from you.

He kept his little 'paws' near his chin. You held back a laugh. You were just messing with him. He seemed so innocent looking at you when you were mad—and maybe it was payback for last week when he hogged the blanket all to himself.

"I'm just joking, Xav." You pulled in closer, nudging his head to look up at you. You placed a kiss on his cheek.

"What?" you hear him say in disbelief, stricken with how you made a fool of him. Before he could retaliate at all, you opened your mouth and folded your lips inward to cover the tip of your teeth. You chomped on his face and pushed his face against yours.

"Mhmp!" he let out, holding on to your wrists. His cheek just looked so edible.

You let out a loud pop when you released him from your mighty grasp.

"You like making fun of me, don't you?" He was now glaring at you, albeit tenderly. There was a red mark left on his cheek, and you felt guilty for munching on it.

"Hehe~"

"In that case, let me bite you too…" Xavier yanked on your wrists, and the world suddenly began to tilt.

"Xavier, no—"

Author footnotes: I made Zayne and Xavier blush in game and I realized I was smiling stupid :>

Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost

[goldenstring6123]

The curly hair fic you wrote for the love and deep space characters really made my day. I've been insecure about my hair before, so reading my favs say that stuff made me love my hair even more. I downloaded the pictures you made so that in case I feel bad about my hair again, I can look at it.

I hope you have an incredible day, and thank you so much for writing that ❤️😭

You're very welcome Pookie! I'm very grateful that my writing managed to help you in some way!

[goldenstring6123]

the kitchen sneaker fic with sylus 😵‍💫 idk how you did that but that might be the most in character sylus fic ive read it almost feels like a part of the game! 💗 i love it sososomuch msdnsjfjf

Awwieee thank u so much pookie!

[goldenstring6123]

Notice!

Hello, my academic year just started and right off the bat I'm already feeling the weight of my assignments and school works. Bottom line is: My posting will be reduced significantly so I won't be able to simultaneously upload posts like I did for the past few days.

I will continue to try and write + post probably twice or thrice per week, depending on my availability! I can't say when I can post but it's probably near the weekends so yeah!

See u in my next post pookies!

[goldenstring6123]

Zayne: Morning Afterglow

Warning: Smut, MDNI, 18+, 2k words, no plot (just a lazy morning), gentle (?) sex, Cunnilingus, unprotected sex, sensual love making. AFAB!reader, Reader may or may not be the mc.

Author's note: how do you write gentle sex exactly???? request made by anon!

A big hand roamed the expanse of your back, tasting its warmth.

For a second, the touch disappeared, changing to a single finger. Carefully, it traced every dip and crevice formed by your position as you lay on your side—your spine, the dip in your shoulder blades, the folds of your love handles, and your Venus dimples.

You held your breath at the thought of Zayne doing it. He's been doing this the whole week. Whenever you were distracted by something, his hand would always come into contact with your body, touching it for his own amusement. It wasn't even intimate or erotic; it was just plain eccentric and out of character.

"Are you that interested in my body? How scandalous of you, Dr. Zayne!" You exclaimed, over-exaggerating your tone.

To your words, he merely responded with a blink and a stare before turning away from you. You were perplexed. Who wouldn't be?! Is this his way of getting accustomed to touching you?

"I know you're awake," Zayne whispered, his lips just behind your ears. You shiver at the lowness of his voice and stiffen as his hand lands on your hips. "Why are you holding your breath?"

"I was woken up to you touching me," you replied back. It's not that you were complaining about it, but it felt… nice. Even if there was no malice to his touch, it sent a small jolt of electrical shock from your back to everywhere. "But good morning."

Zayne's lips touched the nape of your neck, placing a light kiss. His hand, which was on your hip, traced carefully from your waist up to your shoulder. You can't help but crave a kiss, so you slightly turn behind you and meet his face. "Are you still sore from last night?" he gently asked, giving another peck on the forehead.

You shook your head from side to side.

"Good," he whispered, accompanied by a kiss on the nose. Zayne tugged off the plain white duvet that was the only thing covering your naked body. That took you off guard. "May I?" he asked, and you finally rolled to his side of the bed, revealing yourself in all your naked glory. Hickey-riddled neck and collarbones, your stomach, your pinkish thighs, and your supple breasts. He basked in the sight of you riddled with his love marks.

"What's gotten you so eager this morning?" you asked, but he did not respond. He simply pulled you closer and finally laid a kiss on your lips. You had to blink thrice before giving in to his all-too-gentle kiss—a stark contrast to the harsh, hungry kisses he was gnawing out of you last night.

You opened your lips and let his tongue enter, pushing and sliding against yours while shallow whimpers escaped your mouth. You could still taste the sweetness of the chocolate from last night. His hand didn't lay dormant; it stroked and touched everything it came across before landing on your nipples.

"Mhm?" you let out when his cold fingertips brushed the peak of your breasts. You arched your chest out even further in the hopes of coming into contact with his fingers again. Your breasts were more sensitive that morning, probably due to Zayne's rough suckling and kneading. The light hue had turned more reddish, and it seemed like they were almost swollen, yet they didn't hurt at all.

You and your lover pulled away from the kiss, a silver thread connecting both of your tongues. Zayne adored the redness of your ears and your low-lidded eyes; you were in a trance as well, certainly in the mood for much more.

He got on his elbows and lowered his face onto your left breast, blowing on it. You flinched at the cold air, making you grab a fistful of his black locks. You glared at him, and he grinned. He opened his mouth and gently lapped at your breast. The other hand found its way to the right and flicked on the nipple at the same time his tongue struck up.

"Ah…" Your back lifted slightly, but the rest of Zayne's body was pressing you down. Despite it not hurting, he was still gentle with his actions. He sucked lightly, swirling his tongue and teasing the bud. You enjoyed the efforts of his mouth and fingers, letting out a sequence of weak moans.

Every movement was like a small electric spark from your chest down to your womanhood.

You can't help but let out ragged breaths as your heart beat strongly against your chest. You attempted to calm yourself down by staring at the ceiling, yet Zayne playfully bit your nipple and pinched the other. You thrust your hips against his stomach and let out a loud, unguarded moan.

You could feel something hardening and rubbing against your own thigh, but you couldn't really care less because your lover showered your torso with so many kisses. He left trails and trails of them all over, worshipping your body like a devoted believer. He went lower and lower, and his mouth stopped right at your entrance.

Zayne paused, eyeing every mark he left. He then eyed your womanhood, gazing at it with slight hunger.

The warmth of Zayne's body had disappeared from your own, and the cold wind of the air conditioner took its place. There came the slight embarrassment on your face—he was staring for too long, even if there was nothing to look at down there.

You instinctively closed your thighs shut, but it was soon a futile attempt as Zayne's hands held them open. "Don't close your legs, Honey." Zayne could see the blush on your cheeks, and you couldn't do anything other than lay your head back and wait. For dear life, you grabbed one of Zayne's pillows and pressed it over your eyes and the bridge of your nose. Partially, it was because you were shy, but deep down, you did it because you wanted to feel the sensation even more.

You waited. The minute seemed like an hour, but then finally, finally, you could feel your lover's mouth. You swallowed your saliva and spread your legs a little wider. Zayne kissed the inners of your thighs and gave you a generous, fluid-coated lick, lathering your pussy. You throbbed as his hot tongue brushed on the lips of your womanhood.

"Mhhm," you let out. His finger briefly disappeared from your thighs, but then you suddenly felt yourself being opened. You pressed the pillow harder on your eyes to cope with the embarrassment you felt at being wide open. It wasn't your first time with Zayne, and it's not uncommon for him to do this, but every time, you can't help but feel the shame.

Your hips squirmed at the cold air, but at the same time, you throbbed, feeling a slimy fluid drip out of your hole. "Zayne…" you called in the hopes that he could hurry it up. The surgeon's green eyes flickered up to you, but he clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction. Why were you covering your face with the pillow?

Swiftly, he yanked it away from you and discarded it to the floor. And while you were in the midst of complaining, his tongue nudged your clit. Slowly, you could feel Zayne's tongue move side to side, firmly and quickly, wasting no time to prepare you. "Ah! Ah! Zayne!" you screamed, hips bucking higher to add more pressure to his face. He wrapped his hands around your thigh while your hand was still in his hair.

He continued eating you out, holding you in the same position all the while he got drunk off of the lewd noises that came from your mouth. You were ebbing at the sensation. Your sex organ was clenching and relaxing at the pleasurable sensations coming from your clit. "Ah—Zayne, I'm—" You couldn't continue your words.

The moment you locked eyes with Zayne, a gentle heat radiated from your core.

The muscles in your legs tightened, and your back arched. A familiar, wonderful tingle erupted out of your vagina. You felt yourself burst, the uninterrupted pleasure prolonged by Zayne's continuous lapping. He held on to you and focused on your reactions, adoring how you whimpered out of pleasure.

You basked momentarily in the bliss that your body had experienced, ignoring your lover, who quietly disappeared from between your legs. You closed your eyes for a moment.

You didn't know what it was you experienced, but it was certainly new—an orgasm that wasn't hard, yet it was a satisfactory one. You stared at the ceiling, a portion of your energy depleted from the early morning activities. Your lids grew heavy, and the cool breeze was nice against the skin, but before you could even doze off, a hand wrapped itself around your calves.

"Eh?" one of your legs had been hung above Zayne's shoulder, and when you glanced to look, there he was again in between your legs. Zayne's cock stood upright, rock solid, like it was ready to burst.

"Can…I put it in?" he asked, rubbing his cheek on your ankle. His ears were deep red, and his eyes were almost pleading. Who could say no to him? You nodded, and Zayne aligned himself with your entrance.

The high and sensitivity from your orgasm were still there, but you were still eager to move on. You marveled at Zayne's well-toned torso, seeing it move as he thrust his hip forward, careful not to hurt you. The stretch didn't hurt; if anything, it felt good. He pushed himself in further, stopping every now and then because your insides were throbbing.

Your insides squeezed his cock in an irregular rhythm, and it felt good. It was hot inside you, and he was craving more, but it felt like It was the right moment to bask in this sensation. Zayne began to lightly move his hips, giving you shallow thrusts. He held onto your thigh, fingers digging into the flesh a bit while his other hand was guiding his hip.

Heavy breaths escaped from his lips. He was trying his best to hold back, but he couldn't help but let out a few mewls. It felt good inside you. Maddeningly good, yet uncannily, there was no urge to go rougher. He wanted to take his sweet time.

His shallow thrusts went deeper and deeper until you were practically being rocked against him. Your skin rubbed against the sheets while your insides felt like they were being repeatedly stretched, filled one moment and empty the next. Your vision was turning white, flickering with every movement.

Zayne's pace was becoming faster and faster, and it was evident that he was moving to please himself even more. His girth was perfect, managing to add just the right amount of pressure to your favorite spot while his tip kept kissing and touching your cervix. He relished how you were sucking him in, not wanting to let go.

He kept his pace for a little while longer, but then he changed his position, lifting the other leg and pushing himself right over you. He dipped his hips into your opening. "Deep…" you panted. "Zayne—you're so deep…" He kept on doing it until you could practically hear both of your skins making slapping noises.

The series of noises grew louder and louder until Zayne wasn't holding back his relished moans, the guttural noises turning you on even more. He lowered his head to your ear and nibbled lightly while he pushed open your fingers, intertwining them together. "Cumming…mhm!" He kept on thrusting and thrusting, getting sloppier until Zayne buried himself, his everything, into yours.

You let out a choked cry, and Zayne let out a quivering moan in return, his abs and body stiffening as you felt spurts of white hit against your inner flesh. It was hot—and filling you up.

He thrust a little bit more, eager to prolong his ejaculation, but soon after, his body wilted onto yours.

"Honey," you cried, tapping his sweat-riddled back. Your lover was still breathing heavily, a little fuzzy over his climax. "You're heavy…" you whispered in his ear. While he kept himself inside you, as more seconds passed, you felt him go a little softer, with his breathing balanced out. When you turned your head, merely centimeters apart from his—he was fast asleep.

"A lazy day it is," You thought, falling asleep while being crushed underneath your lover's weight.

It was a peaceful morning in your residence.

Author footnotes: I added Caleb because I want to slowly integrate him to my works.

Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost |

[goldenstring6123]

Hello I was wondering if I could request something? I have really curly hair that I’m just learning to love. But since I’m not just learning to love it. I tend to have days where my curly hair will be fully a mess.

My ask is how would the love and deep space boys even sylus react to find out the mc has curly hair, they wouldn’t know since she would flat iron it or something.

Thank you so much!

Lnds: Curly haired cutie

Warning: No warnings, reader has curly/coily hair, fem!reader

Author's note: Thank you for making a request pookie! It's really hard to like our natural features and some days are worse than others to the point where we want to get rid of it once and for all—It's understandable, really. But I'm happy to hear (read) that you're learning to love your curls. It's is something really worth admiring. I don't personally know you but I genuinely hope you'd come to love yourself and your curly hair! I hope this little head canon of mine would brighten up your day! I'm sending you my full love and support from wherever I am <3

Zayne:

Zayne discovered your thick hair by accident. Being the polite man that he is, he always shows up on time for your dates, ready to pick you up at your home without you having to wait for him. That particular morning, your alarm decided to sabotage your 3rd date with him. When he rang the doorbell, he was greeted by the sight of you fumbling over, towel around your chest, and your luscious curly hair still damp and dripping.

Your hair was certainly different, as he could see the evident curls even when it was wet. Yet, when you came out of your bedroom, your hair had been straightened, as if what he saw earlier was a mere hallucination. Zayne didn't press further about your hair; it would be rude to do so, but he won't deny that he was curious.

It drifted from his mind soon after, but when you and Zayne went on a trip to the hot springs, he entered the room holding two wine glasses and a bottle in his hand. When he opened the door, he was greeted by the sight of you in a bathrobe. Your hair is voluminous, shiny, and very, very different from what he's used to seeing.

"You have curly hair? I didn't know that," he said as he sat beside you. You were dousing your hand in curl cream while applying it per portion of your hair. Zayne thought you looked cute with your natural hair. But later, the view was gone when you put on a satin bonnet.

Beginning from that point on, Zayne certainly became weird. Rather than just buying a generic shampoo like he usually would, he buys the exact one that you use. Moreover, in the storage cabinet of the main bathroom, there were multiple hair products in there as well, the ones that you use. You didn't ask Zayne to buy you any of it, but it was a waste not to use, so you did. You didn't know it, but Zayne checks on the items every once in a while elated that you were using them.

Zayne would ask to blow-dry your hair. It all began on a random lazy day that coincided with your hair-wash day. Zayne was on the couch, and you were looking for a place to plug in the blow dryer. There happened to be one just under the sofa, and so Zayne offered a hand. From the looks of it, he was having fun because it looked like he was more keen on getting a feel of your hair than actually wanting to blow-dry it.

"Are you wearing your hair down?" he would ask while you fixed yourself in the vanity mirror he bought you. You had the hair straightener heated up, but you stared at your man through the mirror. He looked like he was anticipating a specific response, and so you flicked the straightening iron off. "Yes," you would reply.

For a grown man, Zayne was quite the adorable one when it came to your hair. You'd always gauge his reaction whenever you turn on the straightening iron, and you could see a very, very minute change in his expression, like a kid expressing their dissatisfaction while avoiding eye contact. When you inferred that he was happier when he could see your natural hair, you never really thought of holding that tool again. You'd puff out your hair and make it luster even more. Zayne looked happy and so did you.

Xavier:

A photo slipped out of your wallet. Xavier picked it up and stared at it. It was a photo of you in a jumper; you were around seven by then, and your hair was very different from now. Your hair was deflated in Xavier's thoughts. You were still pretty, that's for sure, but a part of him was fixated on the image of you with thick, wavy hair. Even if you had that, he thought you'd be even more dazzling.

Whenever you change clothes in his presence, Xavier always stares. His eyes were like a cat's, not watching you, but rather how your hair moves and sways as you do: it's like your hair was a wand toy for kitties.

Whenever he could, Xavier would pass by you while your hair was in its natural state. Then, out of the blue, his hand would scoop it up from the bottom and tousle it twice before moving on. At first, you could only stare when he did this, but later on, you'd gotten used to it. Heck, you were even leaving your natural hair on display to allow Xavier to do it. It was cute, and it was ticklish for you. And maybe, for once in your life, you found your hair to be something worth seeing.

He falls asleep when you do your hair routine. There were lots of creams, lots of masks, and a lot of brushing involved. As much as Xavier wanted to wait for you, he couldn't resist his eyes getting heavier and heavier. When he comes to, he is face to face with your pink cap.

When he's bored and you're both close to each other, his hand will unknowingly drift toward your wavy hair. You won't feel it at first, but when you look over at him, you'll find his fingers playing with the ends of your hair very lightly. It slightly tickles, but it doesn't hurt, so you don't mind letting him do it.

Xavier is the type of boyfriend who would have an elastic around his arm or in his pocket. It would be the thin ones that would work well with less thick hair, but when he discovered your curls, he purchased some convenience store hair ties that looked like they could hold your hair. It comes in handy, too, when you decide to go natural, and then you have to eat.

Xavier would be there for you when you have a bad hair day. Usually, your friends would laugh it off, and you'd have to play along and just hide it one way or another. But Xavier was different—he never once made fun of you for it. He could see the frustration in your eyes. Xavier could see how you look at yourself in the mirror, and he would always recall when you'd grow frustrated at the chore of taking care of your hair. But at the same time, he's seen you trying different ways to care for it, to try and accept the hair you naturally have.

He's very patient with you, time and time again; even when you were on the brink of giving up on it. He never once failed to show his care for you, and seeing his consistency made you change yourself for the better. It was a slow and menial process because at first, you had to realize that you actually hated your hair before eventually learning to love it. Xavier has been with you every step of the way. It was a bit of a challenge, but looking back, you could say that you've really gotten far. There were times when you were still debating on getting your hair straightened for a very long time, but with your lover playfully nuzzling in it, the thought disappears immediately.

Rafayel:

Rafayel knows about your hair the first time he met you because he was looking for a salon that could get the haircut he wants. According to him, the original salon went bankrupt, and he was recommended there. You were about to get a hair treatment akin to a Brazilian treatment, but then you saw him staring. "Your hair looks pretty to me. Not that it matters," Rafayel said. You were supposed to ignore him, but his words were like a sharp knife against butter. It was all you needed to back out.

The next time he met you, your hair products had run out, and you were at the mall, donning a cute hairstyle while looking through the rack. "I knew you'd look cute with natural curly hair," Rafayel introduced himself to you, and the rest is history.

You don't know how bold a man can be until he asks to style your hair. You had thick, dark hair, and even for you, it was a workout to style, so you always opt for a lazy bun or a claw clip. Quite frankly, even if Rafayel had become your lover, you have no idea what he knows about your hair. You were pretty surprised with what he came up with. Was it pretty? Sure, it was. Would you wear it outside? Nope, absolutely not. He practically made your hair into artwork and took pictures of it. When asked what prompted it, he said that your hair is a great medium and that you have a very pretty face to match it. Something something about "creativity" and "one of a kind muse."

He likes to sniff your hair, but he's very picky about the smell of it. Your hair doesn't have an odor, but he's particular about the smell of the shampoo and conditioner you use. You had to switch between products to find what's compatible with the current condition of your hair. Though to you they all technically smell good, to Rafayel some of them smell bad. That man even has the audacity to tell you what scent you should buy in particular.

Rafayel has emergency hair products in his car: curl creams, hair gels, oils, and whatnot. Plus, he had a set of hair ties and accessories in it; when you discovered it first in his car, you nearly got into a fight because why the heck would he need hair products for curly hair? You thought that maybe he was cheating on you, but he pointed out that they're all unopened.

You never noticed until a friend of yours pointed it out, but according to them, you looked more vibrant in your natural hair, unlike before when you tried to forcibly iron it flat. Maybe that was the thing you needed to hear in order to look at yourself in the mirror and admire what you were given. And truthfully, no one else was responsible for it other than Rafayel, the man who always looks at you in the mirror with eyes full of adornment and love.

Sylus:

Sylus discovered your natural hair through pure coincidence. While you were up and about walking around his headquarters, Sylus noticed a few locks of hair that seemed unnatural. It was a more glossy finish, curled up and shriveled, unlike the remaining mass of hair that was straight. You didn't realize it but you actually missed to straighten a few locks of hair.He didn't point it out because you had disappeared by then, and he had forgotten about it. The main method he discovered it was when you were both thrown overboard onto a secluded island for a few days. After it got wet, your hair came back to its natural state the longer it dried out.

Sylus doesn't really care in what way you would like your hair. He doesn't mind if you straighten it, curl it, or leave it in whatever original form it was. Every day, he plays a wheel of fortune in his mind, trying to predict what hairstyle you would choose. If he chooses the right answer, he'd reward himself in some way. You never know what's happening in his mind, so when he stares at you, he just brushes it off.

Sylus gets a headache when he sees all your hair stuff lined up on the table. He watches you do your hair, and he gets frustrated as well when you have to start over, so he offered to get you a hairstylist, to which you declined because you don't want other people touching you other than the hairdressers at a specific salon.

There are bobby pins in every bathroom in the headquarters, so he puts a dedicated container in each so you won't have a hard time looking for them. He also secretly has a pack of hair ties in his desk, which he spontaneously bought at a night market abroad.

If you're thinking about what hairstyle you should do to match your outfit, Sylus would nonchalantly offer you his suggestions, which were very helpful. But half the time, you had to struggle with finding out what that hairstyle is because it changes every other day. Rather than naming the style, he refers to the date that you wore it, which will make you have to dig through the memory jar.

Hair wash day is fun because Sylus gets to wash your hair. He does this voluntarily. He rolls back his sleeves and puts the product in his hand, lathering it and massaging your hair and scalp in layers. You once fell asleep while he was doing it and speaking because you felt really at ease. When you opened your eyes, he was in the process of rinsing.

Sylus is willing to pay for the expensive things for yourself. You forgot your mousse at home? Just buy one at a foreign supermarket. If you'd like, you can choose the most expensive one. He also once gifted you a one-of-a-kind hair dryer that claims to not damage the user's hair. It became your holy grail.

Sylus will always say that you look pretty no matter how you do your hair. You never really took him seriously until you found out that Mephisto secretly takes pictures of your hairstyle and has a catalogue for it. When you threatened to cook the bird, Sylus fessed up. Though it was just a light, fun confession, it made you think deeply about yourself. How could a man so willingly admire a woman's hair when the woman herself loathes it? Sylus could read the thoughts behind those eyes. He patted your hair and gave you a reassuring smirk. "Whatever your hair is and whatever you plan on doing with it—I don't mind. But you have to realize that you're beautiful regardless of what you choose, sweetie." That made something inside you well up.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and smiled. Maybe you'll wear your hair down tonight.

Author footnotes: I'm very very nervous about this prompts because I don't have curly hair and I'm not sure if the things I said in the headcanons are accurate (They're pretty generic but still T-T) feel free to correct me if i got stuff wrong.

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[goldenstring6123]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTNXxJ8TM/

THIS IS SO CUTE PLS I CAN SO CLEARLY SEE THE LADS MEN DOING THIS 😭 and the comment section had me dying where is evb finding these MEN 😔🙏

Lnds: Sleepy time!

Warning: No warnings, afab!reader, fem!reader

Authors note: Fluff (not a lot of it) and a bit of domestic stuff.

Sylus:

It had been 30 minutes since you left the bedroom. Sylus was already well on his side of the mattress, reading the news while waiting for you to come back. He thought you were just up and about doing your normal routine of drinking herbal tea and doing skincare, but it was taking you far longer than usual.

He settled the tablet down on the nightstand and walked out of the bedroom. He searched for you in every room he passed by, and when he arrived at the guest bedroom at the end of the hall, there you were, perfectly tucked in under the unused duvet.

You were curled into a ball and too engrossed in the video you were watching; you didn't even notice the black fuzzy threads wrapping around your weird curled-up position. You lifted off from the bed, and when you came to, the view was of Sylus' back as you involuntarily made your way back to his bedroom.

"So you're not going to put me down?" you asked, paying attention to the video again. "Are manners not a thing anymore?"

The brooding man didn't spare you a glance. "I'm not open for discussion. You're supposed to sleep in my bedroom. Our bedroom."

"I just wanted a bed all to myself," you uttered. Here you were, planning what to watch and what to eat for the whole night, and this guy managed to foil it.

"I don't share the same sentiment, sweetie. You have the bed every time I'm overseas on a work trip. It's even infested with your colorful pillows," he opened the door to the bedroom and reeled you in, gesturing to your side of the bed which had vibrant pillows and bed 'pets,' as you like to refer to them.

"You really can't sleep without me, can you, Mr. Big guy? Afraid that someone's under the bed or something?"

"I'm more afraid that you're going to ravage my food pantry when you're not in my line of sight."

"The guest bedroom is nowhere near the pantry and I don't ravage it—I simply take a few snacks," you clarified. "Greg would be sad if the food spoils."

"Either way, you sleep in my bedroom or my couch, nowhere else, sweetie."

"Admit it: You like my company, don't you?" You gave him a cheeky grin.

"Yes, yes," Sylus agreed sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "You make a good meat shield when we get attacked in this bedroom."

"Oh wow. Reduced to a shield." You rolled your eyes in return and slipped under the covers. "That's Onychinus' leader for you."

"Right. Are you done now? I still have an early schedule for tomorrow."

"Alright, alright. I'm heading to bed now. You can sleep."

"Good. Now come here." Sylus opened his arms and you found yourself huddled right into it like it was the perfect mold. You shifted a bit and could feel his muscles relax against your back.

"Why did you feel the need to sleep in the guest room tonight?" Sylus asked under his breath.

"I was planning on reading comics all night. Tara recommended a new romance comic which I like, but knowing you, you'd probably take my phone away."

"Then it looks like I will be the bad guy tonight."

"Maybe. Until you fall asleep." You shrugged.

You hear the handcuffs being pulled out.

Shit.

Xavier:

3:02 AM, it says on the clock. You weren't on the bed. It was cold and it was proof that you never went on it, which was odd considering you told sleepy little Xavier that you were going to stay over. Poor little tired hunter was exhausted after a day's work and couldn't help but doze off while watching you do your little night ritual of moisturizing and doing a facemask.

Xavier sat on the side of the bed, letting out a big yawn. He didn't know where you were, but all he knew was that he didn't like being alone. From his palm, a faint whirlpool of light emanated, enough to guide him through his dark abode. His first thought was maybe you were watching in the living room. You weren't there. He then headed to the small bedroom right beside his, a spare one for guests, but it went unused when you both shared the same bed now.

He tried his best to quietly open the door. There he saw a little bump on the mattress and it made his heart squeeze; you were adorable and looked so small. Xavier tiptoed and folded the blanket away from you. He took a deep breath and lifted you up bridal style, pressing you against his chest.

"hm?…Xavier?" you slurred, vision dark and blurry.

"I'm moving you to our bedroom," he kissed the top of your head and continued his journey to the other room.

"You were sleeping," you paused, looking for the word. The drowsiness didn't seem to go away. "didn't want to…disturb you."

Xavier wanted to say something, but he and you both arrived at the side of the bed. He gently laid you down and placed a pillow between your limbs, which you automatically hugged. Xavier crawled to his side of the bed and yanked the cover over the both of you. Though you both weren't exactly touching, the little hunter's heart eased at your presence.

Gladly, he went back to sleep, hoping to maybe see you in his dreams.

Zayne:

Zayne's house was far too quiet when he arrived. It was only 7 o'clock, and by then you'd usually be in the kitchen, peeking your head out with a ladle in hand. There was no "welcome back" nor a simple "hello," but what did he expect? You were mad at him.

It's a shallow fight, really. Zayne decided to put you on alcohol time-out and took your hidden beers that you were so ready to drink after a grueling day at work. Zayne's judgment was far better than yours because when you get drunk beyond mental capacity, you tend to make a mess of the house, and you turn into a rage-filled, feisty lady. Moreover, you'd been chain-drinking for the whole week, and Zayne was getting concerned because you kept having hangovers.

His hands twisted on the knob to the little library of his house, where he would always find you on nights like these. There you were, curled in the lazy boy sofa and turned away from him. You were awake, but you didn't want to look at your lover.

"I'm home," Zayne declared.

"Dinner's in the fridge. Heat it up," you responded and closed your eyes. Zayne's footsteps grew closer and closer to you, and you felt his palm land on your shoulder.

"Your back will hurt if you sleep in that position."

The sofa might look soft and admittedly it's pretty comfortable to sit on for a long period of time, but with the curled-up position you have, it was bound to hurt when you fall asleep.

"I'm perfectly fine," you replied.

"Don't be stubborn." Zayne decided to pick you up. You wanted to thrash and get out of his grasp, but then you would look childish.

"I don't want to be with you tonight."

Zayne kept his lips in a thin line. He's more than aware that you're saying that because you're mad, but still—It hurts to hear it from you.

Gently, Zayne settled you in the middle of the bed. "I'll sleep in the living room. Stay here," he whispered and tucked the blanket over your shoulders. It was dark in the bedroom, so you couldn't exactly see him. You rolled over to face away from your lover and patiently waited for him to leave.

1:34 AM. You couldn't sleep. A can of beer would do you some good, but your tongue wasn't craving the bitterness of it. Instead, your mind looped over to a few hours ago when you said something that you didn't mean. It was harsh now that you think about it.

Now Zayne is keeping his distance from you. The owner of the house is sleeping on the couch.

With two pillows and a blanket in hand, you made your way down the flight of mahogany stairs. The living room was in full view, and Zayne was fast asleep on the couch. You nudged the two ottomans to the space between the coffee table and the main sofa. Then you threw the pillows and spread the blanket wide, letting it flutter down while you made yourself fit on the ottoman chairs.

You left a few spaces between you and Zayne, one that was filled by the cold pillow.

2:46 AM. Zayne stirred awake and found a blanket draped over his body. Beside him was his supposedly angry lover, clutching the hem of his shirt. He stared up into the chandelier above and took the pillow that was bordering between them, used it as his own, and pulled you closer, nudging the blanket over both of you even more.

Rafayel:

He's standing by the doorway, tapping his foot while a plushie was tucked under his armpit. He was frowning, and you could even see it through the dark.

"What?" you asked, shining the phone his way.

"So you're going to leave me alone tonight? Is that how you're going to play?" He was mad-mad, but that's why you were confused.

"Hey, drama king—you were complaining earlier in the day about my bad sleeping habits—I'm giving you the bed now so you can be at ease, but now you're mad at me again. Do you want me to sleep on the floor of your bedroom or something?"

"Duh? Of course not. I'm just complaining because it's true, but I never said you should sleep in the guest room."

"Then are you going to be alright with my sleeping habits?"

"No."

"Then sleep alone."

An audible gasp could be seen on the expression of the Lemurian. He looked so offended with the end of the conversation, but you weren't having it, so you plopped back onto the bed and hid under the covers, hoping that he'd go away.

The moment you peeked back out, you were rapidly crushed under heavy weight, making you sink to the bottom of the bed. Rafayel lay spread out on top of you, keeping you in your position and crushing you underneath him.

"Get off me! You're heavy!" You struggled underneath the blanket, nudging him and kicking him, but he pretended to be a dead body floating in the water. Rafayel kept still; if verbal convincing won't work, then he'll have to make you change your mind.

"Fine! Fine! I'll sleep with you!" you screamed. He rolled to the side, propped his elbows up, and rested his head on his palm. You just wanted to rub that triumphant grin off his face. He happily scooted underneath the blankets and hogged your side of the bed, wrapping his hand around you and shutting his eyes.

You didn't want to make a big deal of it further and decided to head to bed as well.

You were stirred awake by a strain in your neck. The lids of your eyes lifted at the electrifying pain that traveled to your head. You squinted, barely able to process the faint blue outside the window. Your body was spread out again, and nearby you could see Rafayel making use of the awkward space he was left with.

Guilt washed over your tired body.

Without much thought left, you held onto two pillows and let your body slip down to the carpeted floor. You hugged the pillow and placed another one under your head, liking the furry texture that brushed the side of your bare arms and legs. You closed your eyes again and let the tiredness wash over you.

It was cold for a summer morning. A large yawn escaped your lips and you patiently waited for your eyes to focus, and when they did, your eyes widened immediately at the beautiful sight of a sleeping Lemurian. Rafayel, too, was now on the floor, using his own arm as a pillow.

You tapped on his shoulder, and he just pulled you down back to the floor. "Five more minutes," he groaned, burying his face in your collar. Luckily, it was a Saturday, and you didn't have to go to work. You could indulge him in the meantime.

Author's footnotes: lol the tiktok was very cute, something that you'd see in a rom-com enemies to lovers sort of romance story. It would be a pretty redundant snippet if every situation is the same for the love interest so I took the liberty of changing things a bit.

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[goldenstring6123]

Lnds: Favorite Piece of clothing

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, MDNI, AFAB!reader, Fem!reader

Author's note: Quickly wrote this while procastinating on another prompt :p

Zayne:

Zayne likes your nightwears, specifically the pink mini dress that was almost see-through. You looked pretty on them, they were frilly and fluffy, hugging your breasts while flowing freely to cover the important stuff halfway up your thigh. What's more, was that it had some matching underwear which he lets you wear while he fucks you senseless against the window of the hotel.

Rafayel:

Rafayel likes the skirts. It doesn't matter what type; it could be the puffy ones, the type that hugs your hips, or the free-flowing pleated ones. It doesn't matter as long as it's a skirt because, for one, His hands have easy access. He could simply slip his fingers to your thighs and slide through the side to rub your clit until you're a moaning mess.

Xavier:

Xavier likes it when you wear thigh-high socks. The patterns would look beautiful against your thigh, and he particularly fawns over where the socks end as they dip against your plush thighs. He particularly likes white cotton socks that have cute ribbons for decoration. Xavier could strip you of everything you're wearing, but he would never ever take off your socks. He would be spreading your legs or holding your ankles while he pounds you to oblivion.

Sylus:

Sylus likes it when you wear stilettos. red ones. He finds that it accentuates your ankles a lot, which is very sexy for him. it was a bonus to hear your careful footsteps beside him. Match this with a thigh band, and you won't see the light of tomorrow. When he decides that he wants you and you are in red high heels, he will be fucking you against the wall, your leg held up by his arm while he grinds his cock deeper inside of you.

Author's footnotes: hehe, They'd fuck you in whatever outfit you're wearing but these ones are something that turns them on.

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[goldenstring6123]

Hiii, my request is an ABC nsfw from each of the LaDS men, because I've been following you since the beginning and I ended up being curious about how you think they act during sex (If you could do Zayne's first I would be very grateful 🙏) I LOVE YOUR WRITINGS!!! (Sorry for any grammatical errors, English is not my first language)

Zayne: NSFW alphabet

Warning: 18+ only, MDNI!, Fem!reader, Full of sex related stuff: Toys, Kinks, Positions, preferences, etc. Read at your own risk!

Author's note: This is really fun to make but it's really long so I'll do individual posts. I was wondering what nsfw abc is and boy am I sooooo— heheh anyways, thank u for making this request pookie! #nsfweds

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Zayne will alternate between bathing you or simply wiping you down with a damp cloth. in order for Zayne to bathe you, you must be awake, or at least half awake, but this is a bit of a risky situation because things might also become 'steamy' in the bathroom.

If he has worn you out or had knocked you out cold, he would wipe you down with a cloth and move you to the other bedroom, then change the sheets in yours and move you back. Zayne would always make sure you rest with at least your underwear and a shirt on because he doesn't want you catching a cold.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Their favorite body part of you is your breasts and chest area. When you're on his lap, straddling him, he likes to bury his face in between your cleavage. Being close to your heart is something he likes to do physically, and when you orgasm, he likes feeling your pussy pulse at the same time as your heart.

Their favorite body part is their own hands. His hands may have scars, but that adds to the beauty of it. His fingers are long, and he keeps his nails neat, and because of this, he's able to reach places where you couldn't when you finger yourself. Plus, you like sucking on his fingers and intertwining it with yours when you're so lost in your mind.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

His cum alternates between opaque and thick to a bit thin and watery, depending on if he's managed to masturbate within the week. When Zayne wears a condom, he cums inside of you quite fearlessly, and you can feel his dick twitch while it spurts out the semen. When he doesn't wear a condom or when he decides to take it off, he likes spurting it on your lower abdomen and stomach. To which he'll use it to lubricate his dick again and pound into you. He's the type of guy whose body twitches when he ejaculates. He thrusts roughly and buries himself in you, only to tremble while he savors his high.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Zayne likes to see you squirt like a fountain. He likes how you write under his grasp while he keeps your legs still. He likes it when you cry that you can't stop cumming when he continues to lap your pussy, or when he continues to push through your orgasm. When you thrust your hip up, and your fluids spray on the bed—Zayne's mind is in a trance.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Fairly inexperienced, a virgin even—he knows what he needs to know through 'research', but a little guide from you would go a long way. He's a fast learner and a bit experimental (surprisingly), so he gets the hang of it in no time. You almost forgot that he's a newbie in just three months in.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Zayne likes two positions. First is the butterfly position, where one or both of your legs are over Zayne's shoulders. This position allows him to go deep while still being able to see your full body and touch you elsewhere. Moreover, he likes that he can seamlessly transition to a mating press if he wants to go rougher on you.

The second position that he likes is when you simply straddle his lap and move to satisfy yourself. He won't tell you this for some reason, but he likes it because you get to do the work while his hands can grope and knead your ass while kissing each other deeply.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It's always serious when it's Zayne. Passionate, intimate, and caught in the moment are words that describe what it's like to make love. Although he genuinely admires your sense of humor, Zayne's in charge of making you happy in the bedroom.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

The carpets match the drapes, and Zayne has hair but not by a lot. He grooms them well, but at weeks when he can't afford to take care of himself, sometimes, you can see the hair creep up to his belly button, which is absolutely hot.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

Very intimate. Almost all moments of Sex with Zayne will be intimate as you both want it and desire each other to the fullest, even just sex on regular days. That being said, there is an exception, which is when you're both hot-headed or frustrated: then you just use each other like a sex toy until you're both worn out, to which you'll make love intimately soon after.

J = Jack off (masturbation head-canon)

Contrary to what one may expect, he always finds a way to jack off; he needs to, especially with you so easily flaunting your body in his house or even just by sending him too sexy of pictures of you in his old college long coat. Half of the time, he distracts himself from the growing and throbbing hard on but the rest of the time, he'd excuse himself to the toilet or go on a quick shower run to jack off until he gets everything out of his system.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Secret Kink:

Alcohol kink - Zayne doesn't like to do things to you when you're inebriated because, to him, it's improper to touch a lady when they're not in their right mind. but when it's the other way around, he gets off of it. He gets tipsy for sure, but it amplifies his senses, and he can't focus on anything but the woman who's riding him to their own pleasure.

Well known kink:

Power play - It doesn't matter who takes the lead. Zayne would like it if you pushed him against the wall and rubbed yourself up all over him while you gave him orders not to touch you. It breaks his rational thinking when you yank on his tie and speak to him as if you're his superior. He's willing to follow your every whim and command. On his more erotic days, Zayne gives the orders, and you must oblige without fail because he's quite harsh and doesn't hesitate to give you consequences while cooing at you, be it by edging, orgasm denial, or breaking your orgasm.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bedroom. Because it's intimate, your body will be less sore in the bedroom because the mattress is soft and has many pillows to support your back. but of course, if neither of you can hold back, Zayne can do you anywhere as long as it's secluded. It could be his office, the hospital bathroom, or a hotel room with a full city view.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Zayne is turned on when you're acting all innocent and coy while rubbing against him "accidentally" and showing your assets in front of him, and somehow choosing the most revealing combination of house clothing and coincidentally wearing matching lingerie underneath your uniform.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Dislikes asphyxiation. He simply can't imagine choking you in bed, and the mere thought of you even fainting sends his stomach churning in the wrong direction. The bruises that one could get on their neck were even more appalling in his eyes. He knows it's a play, but he genuinely cannot allow himself to do it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

A perfect balance of both. When you're stressed out, he likes to eat you out before having sex. When he's the one who's stressed out, you give him a handjob or blowjob but you never finish as he'd personally prefer cumming using your pussy.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It varies on the mood, situation, and both of your conditions.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies happen a lot before you go to work. Who wouldn't be tempted when their partner looks all so dapper and composed while you still bask in the high of last night's memory? A small kiss won't hurt, right? maybe add a blowjob while you're at it? Oh, who's the both of you kidding? Of course, you'll both end up on the couch with Zayne being 30 minutes in his early arrival.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He plays safe, but if he loses a bet or you manage to convince him through some special means, then he will play along as long as whatever you are doing is safe and doesn't cost his dignity too much.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

On days when he's stressed, he needs to ejaculate quickly, and this could happen within 10 to 15 minutes. If he's more relaxed and wants to take his time with you, he could go for around 25 minutes before cumming and needing a break. By then, you would've orgasmed twice or thrice, depending on if Zayne is aiming for the right spots.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Zayne has a tenga cup which he used even before you got together. When you get together, he rarely uses it, but when you accidentally find it tucked under the bed, you would sometimes greet his morning boner by using the toy on him. When you're mad at him and bind him to the bed, you'd also torture him with it by edging him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Your lover doesn't like to tease. He gets straight to the point.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

His breaths are very audible. You can hear him losing his breath in the middle of thrusts, and you can hear him let out a groan when you squeeze your insides on purpose. When you just feel too good, and he's really sensitive, he will let out a long moan while looking up into the ceiling, basking in the sensation.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

As much as he advocates for safe sex, he doesn't like using condoms, but he still does. To him, you were tight and warm, which is good and all but with even that .001 thin condom, he really just can't feel all of you

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Well, chiseled abs, a prominent v line, and a back full of claw marks.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

When you got together, you would think that he's the type to be low-key with his sex drive, but you were proven wrong when you get pounded every other night. He lasts longer than you, too, and can make you orgasm beyond the number of fingers you have in one hand.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Zayne never falls alseep before you. You don't know where he pulls the energy from especially during seasons where the hospital is extremely busy. Sometimes, you manage to stay half awake to see him take care of you, but there are also times when you just drift off mid-sex after a toe-curling orgasm.

Author's footnotes: Hehe I like doing stuff like these, it allows me to get into the nitty gritty details of the character~ will be updating this post with the oink to the other characters once I upload them.

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[goldenstring6123]

Lnds: Reconciliation

Warning: Still a bit angst-y. no teeth-rotting fluff. lots of drama.

Author's note: Please read "Lnds: Fighting with them" first before reading this one.

Zayne:

Well, most of the problems have been resolved already when you have heart-to-heart talks with him in his office. Although it was inevitable that you would shed a tear of frustration, Zayne would never let you go to sleep with a heavy heart.

Despite being mentally exhausted from your work and your fight, his genuine kindness will never flicker, especially towards you. When he gets home, his first instinct is to find you and check on your state—sure, you've resolved the issue through the conversation. Still, he isn't naive to think that lingering afterthoughts of the fight won't weigh your heart down.

Zayne loves you, and albeit he can't say it directly, he'd show it to you instead.

When he finds you, you are most likely lost in your thoughts, reflecting or distracting yourself in one way or another, but it will almost always be the same scenario: you will be sitting out in the garden in your nightwear.

Zayne would place his bag down and head to the kitchen to brew your favorite warm drink, doubling the amount of sweetened cocoa powder. It's not healthy to drink, but it was okay once in a while. You could hear the clinking of the teaspoon hitting the mug, and shortly after, Zayne was behind you, draping a knitted shawl over your shoulders.

He would hand you the drink and simply sit beside you in silence. He wasn't on his phone and dared not speak, letting only the chilly air envelop you both.

It wasn't awkward; there was no tension. Just silence.

And a little warmth as his hands clasped onto yours, his thumb grazing your palm.

That moment made you think that whatever you fought about felt trivial and tiny.

"I'm sorry for getting mad," you tell him lightly. "Thank you for the drink."

Zayne had said his sorries, and he didn't really need to hear one from you, but nonetheless, you were heard. He felt your head rest on his shoulders, and together, you basked under the full moon.

Xavier:

Xavier was looking for you. He went to the office and to that small hidden field, searching for an inkling of your presence. He didn't know what he would do once he managed to find you, but it was the last thought in his mind.

You weren't in your apartment, and it had already been 24 hours. Xavier waited patiently in silence, reflecting on your fight. A phantom of pain from you slapping him amplified the fear in your face, sending an ache through his heart.

He shouldn't have done that. He didn't know why. You never had the habit of running away during a fight, so he was unsure why he was unconsciously pressing you against the wall. Xavier is more than aware that his strength is incomparable to yours. You would, quite frankly, stand no chance if he used force, but that was precisely the point; he had no reason to use it.

He wanted to apologize to you, and he wanted you to reprimand him. He could take another hit from you, but what he can never accept is seeing that frightened, cornered look on your face.

You arrived pretty late into the night, and he was still there on your sofa, patiently waiting for you, almost like a little puppy. You spared him a few seconds of your glance but turned away soon after, taking off your coat, dropping your bag, and heading to the bedroom to speak.

You lay in your bed, facing away from the door because you knew too well that he would come in after you. Even then, you didn't lock the door. Xavier looked more than dejected when you didn't speak to him. You kept your position and closed your eyes shut.

Quietly, the silver-haired man made his way to your bedroom, peeking before carefully entering and lying beside you. Lightly, he clutched onto the hem of your shirt. "I want to apologize," his voice cracked a little, almost making it seem he was on the verge of tears.

"I don't like it when you corner me," you told him.

He scooted closer. "I know, I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I promise."

"I don't like it when you don't listen to my side of the story."

"I'll listen to your side next time," Xavier said, his voice faint yet closer.

It was the perfect time to let go of your anger. You never really talked about his habit when you fight, and you were partly at fault for tolerating it, hoping he would just listen one day. But how would Xavier change something when he didn't know how it affected you so much?

You rolled over to finally face him, his eyes going wide. You stroked his cheek, the side which you slapped the day before. "I shouldn't have slapped you. I'm sorry." Luckily, you didn't hit him too hard; otherwise, the ring on your finger would've cut his face.

Relieved that you had forgiven him, Xavier grabbed the hand that stroked his cheek. He closed his eyes and basked in your warmth. "Don't be. I scared you, and I deserved that." It was a quiet moment for you. Neither of you really knew what you had to say to each other. All was forgiven, and what awaits is simply the both of you fulfilling the end of your promises.

To fill in the silence, Xavier scooted closer and closer, kissing the exposed part of your collarbone shortly after, burying his face in your chest. You smell like coffee, he thought, but rather than stir him awake, it lulled him to sleep.

It didn't take long for him to snooze off to dreamland; after all, he waited for you for a day, not once sleeping in the hopes that he could see you face to face.

Rafayel:

In this relationship, you're almost always the one who needs to go after him, coddle him like an infant, and practically mend the entire relationship. Almost.

On rare occasions, Rafayel would apologize. That was the case for that big fight between you two. You had gone no-contact, leaving him on read most of the time. You avoided the place where you could likely find him wandering about; after all, it was him who should be going after you in this fight. You didn't owe him anything.

You ended up on the sandy shore of the bay, watching the tides threaten to soil your shoe, only to retreat and slither back into the sea. The cold air brought with it the salty scent of the ocean water, bringing a slight comfort to your nose.

The roughness of the waters masked the crunching sounds of Rafayel's footsteps; only then did you notice his presence when those familiar, gentle arms circled around the dip of your waist.

Silence.

"I was looking for you," he uttered under his breath.

"Why?"

"To apologize."

"Do you even know what you're apologizing for?" That came out of your lips monotonously, yet it struck every fiber of Rafayel's being.

"I said too much. I was mad, and so were you, but that's not an excuse to insult you and your feelings." To Rafayel, the waves were ready to swallow him whole. Like a poor little crab, unable to run away from the sea. "I was wrong for doing that, and I was wrong for shutting you out."

The apology wasn't enough. It was sincere, but it wasn't enough. "You can't keep doing that to me, Raf. You don't even get to give me a chance to speak." You pried away the hands that tried to bring you comfort. "You curse at me, you insult everything about me, and then kick me out like I'm just a major problem you can toss aside."

You could see your lover bite his lip. Anxious.

You love Rafayel, and there's nothing that can change that, and even if you were the one running after him during your fights, he fails to comprehend that you get tired, too.

"I'm an adult," you started. "We both are, Rafayel. But when we fight, why do you belittle me so much? Do you really think that low of me? Do you think you can push me around and make me follow all of your emotional whims?"

"No!" Rafayel exclaimed, in disbelief that your thought process had led you to say what you said. "I was mad. I didn't mean anything that I sai—"

"Then treat me right, Rafayel. Is that so hard to do? Is it really complicated to just…talk? Is it so hard to just sit down on your couch and listen to me?" You kept your lips shut, eyes staring at him without much thought. The usual cheery tone of your voice, nowhere in sight, in its wake, exhaustion. "I can only do so much for you, and I'm growing tired the more you do this to me—I get tired as well, Rafayel. You need to realize that."

The poor man didn't know what to say. Your words invaded his head, ridding it of any thought. They hurt. They stung at his heart. His fingers raised to lightly pull the hem of your sleeve, eyes meeting yours, glossy and flickering with fear; with hesitation, he asked: "Are you…breaking up with me?"

"I love you too much to break up with you." You took his cold hands. "I want to make us work. So help me. I can't do this alone." You tell him.

Your fingers were tiny against his own, yet they belonged in the in-betweens. You closed them and placed a kiss on the back of his palm.

He pulled you into an embrace, tightly, like the world was about to end in a matter of seconds.

He was cold, but his hug was warm. "I promise I'll work on myself. I don't want to hurt you again, and I don't want you to get tired of me." Rafayel whispered in your ear. "So don't give up on me. I'll change…"

The spare hand that hung on your hand gradually crept up his back, finding its usual place between Rafayel's shoulder blades. You rubbed small circles, the only comfort you could provide despite your exhaustion.

"I'll hold you to your word." You pressed a kiss on his cheek. As you did, you realized something you didn't a few minutes before.

Rafayel's exposed neck, his thin clothing, and his sandals didn't cover his whole feet. In the cold seaside, Rafayel looked like a madman wearing an indoor outfit, as if he had just walked out of his home without much thought. No wonder why he was so cold. He was shivering both at the thought of you nearly breaking up with him and because of the chilly mists of water hitting his way.

You unrolled the cotton scarf that warmed your neck, wrapping it around him instead. "Let's head home, I don't want you getting sick."

He quietly complied, pulling away from you but keeping your hand locked with his.

Sylus:

The same things happen again and again; it makes you feel numb. Empty.

There was no difference when you woke up alone or when you woke up in his embrace. Not when you were fighting.

Not tonight.

Sylus was awake. You couldn't see him due to the sheer darkness of his room, but he was there, his thumb brushing against your nape while a leg crossed over yours. You stared off into the corner of the room, wondering who was going to speak first.

"We're not breaking up, sweetie." It was more of a demand rather than a statement.

"We won't," two can play at his game. "If you apologize." Nobody would want to be abandoned and left hanging for a month. Especially not you.

You mustered the strength to push yourself up, expecting a bit of restraint from your lover—to your surprise, he let you stand up.

"Apologize for what, exactly? It was you who decided to test my patience. You were the one who cursed at me, calling me names and even throwing things in my way, so pray-tell, sweetie, what do I have to apologize for?" He stared at you, his gaze unfaltering and intense.

"I'm sorry," you stood your ground, yet the apology was long due. "I don't remember what we fought about, but I apologize. For cursing at you, for throwing things in your face. That won't happen again."

A lengthy breath escaped his lips, sounding unsatisfied with your seemingly half-hearted and shallow apology. Sylus wouldn't want to admit it to you, but he doesn't even know why he was mad; all Sylus knew that evening was that he was overcome with too much anger, one that he would usually release through violence. But it involved you. He doesn't want to hurt you or lay a hand on you, so the best option he has is to get away.

He didn't know for how long he should be gone, and in the blink of an eye, a full month had passed.

His anger had long been gone the same time as your loneliness began to fester.

As simple as the apology sounded, it was more than enough for him. "You're forgiven. Don't do that to me ever again."

The man stood up, and you watched his figure as he strode closer to you. He could see the look in your eyes, the anguish mixed with despair, and as he was about to pull you into a hug, a reverberating slap echoed in his room.

The back of his hand stung. And so did your palm.

"You're not going to touch me until you apologize, too, Sylus." Your throat burned at your own words. Your feet felt like they were buried half an inch into the floor, preventing you from running away. He looked down at you, low-lidded eyes devoid of any life.

"Why should I?"

You wanted to laugh at his crap.

"Why is it that you demand compensation every time I leave you on read for more than 3 days? Why do I have to explain where I've been, who I was with, and why I was gone while you—" A bitter laugh bloomed out of your mouth, "While you come here and not even offer a single bit of an explanation nor an apology?"

Sylus offers nothing in exchange for your words. He avoided you, that he can't deny. He used his work as an excuse to bury you at the back of his head and intentionally minimized your presence in his life.

"Hah," the ache at the back of your neck crept to the back of your head, nearly sending your head to throb all over. "You're unfair, Sylus. You're so goddamn unfair that…" You couldn't continue the words you wanted to say. It will only fan the flame in your heart and his.

"I just," the shiver in your breath snapped Sylus into reality. The feeling in your throat was uncomfortable. It was slowly becoming tangled, choking you of air. "I just want an apology from you, Sylus. Even just a small apology for abandoning me." And the fact that you had to beg him for it is just…

Sylus wrapped his hand around you, keeping your arms in place. You tried to break free from his grasp, but he held on to you tightly, not offering you a way out. Your face was smashed against his chest, and you could hear his heartbeat, pumping, beating all too fast.

"Forgive me," Sylus whispered. "There's no excuse for what I did."

His words were like the key to your eyes as tears began to cascade down your cheeks. There was no need for him to say anything else; it was enough for you. There was no strength left in you to reciprocate his hug, but you wanted to.

Sylus slipped his hand underneath your thighs and lifted you up. Carefully trudging to the bed, he laid you down in the same place you got up, tucking a blanket over you. He got on the bed as well, pulling you closer to his grasp.

"I'll make it up to you tomorrow." He stroked your cheek and placed a kiss on your eyes. "We can talk properly, and I'll apologize again," Sylus said. The same hand that touched your cheek slid down onto your shoulders, caressing it up and down.

The weariness began to settle in. The soft mattress and pillows and his warm touch.

It was getting harder and harder to keep your eyes open, and you didn't know why you were fighting the fatigue, but Sylus' promise helped you settle down.

He doesn't go back on his words and doesn't say things he doesn't mean. You hold him up to his words.

And quietly, you drift off to sleep.

Author footnotes: I changed the writing style to a somewhat story-telling format. I hope you guys don't mind.Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost |

[goldenstring6123]

HIIIYAAAYAYA I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH AND I LOOK FORWARD TO EVERY SINGLE PIECE YOU RELEASE!!! YOU HAVE ME CHECKING YOUR PAGE 24/7 IM OBSESSEDDD 🫦🫦 ANYWHO ignore my fawning but how do you think the lads boys would react to a suuuuper clingy gf??? idk but if i were mc i would NOT be leaving their side and would literally be glued onto their body like mc is a strong soldier for resisting (especially rafayel my HUSBAND 😩) literally wanna just curl up in their lap and carve myself into their ribcage so they can never escape from me tehe. ALSOOO U DON’T GOTTA RESPOND IF UR BUSY OR UNCOMFY!!!! JUST KNOW I LOVE YOU AND YOUR DELICIOUS WRITING 🫶🫶

Lnds: Sticky little lover

Warning: vaguely suggestive, mentions of hickeys, fem!reader, clingy!reader, reader may or may not be the mc, there might be spelling mistakes, I haven't proofread yet.

Author's note: Awieee thank u sm pookie! I understand the feeling of wanting to latch onto the LIs~

Zayne:

Zayne wakes up with you on his chest, your leg over his crotch, and your arm across his stomach. To him, you were like a weighted stuffed toy and a weighted blanket, all at the same time. He wasn't complaining; maybe it was an excuse to stay in bed for another half an hour.

The bathroom is big enough for the two of you, with two wash basins, a separate shower, and a bathtub. There are three bathrooms in the house, but you always choose the one he uses. He's complained once, but you said you didn't like the interior design of the others. Side by side, you brush your teeth and comb your hair while he shaves and flosses. If you wake up earlier than usual, maybe he'll let you moisturize and exfoliate his face. It's no surprise Zayne leaves the bathroom door open for you. It's just normal for both of you to cross paths in the large bathroom.

When he leaves for work, you never miss a day to kiss his nose and give him a quick peck. You embrace him with two arms, but he hugs you back with one, the other hand holding his bag. You don't mind.

Your message gallery is filled with pictures of your mundane life: a snapshot of a book you're reading, the new coffee you tried, the little teacup Maltese that reminded you of him. Even though he's busy, he always finds time to react, and if he doesn't, he brings up the picture when you pick him up at the end of the day. He never forgets.

Calm days are spent in each other's presence. You always cling to him in one way or another. While he's reading a book, your feet are on his lap, and his fingers unknowingly knead your ankles. While watching a movie, your shoulders touch, and your hands are intertwined. When you react to the film, his hand, still holding yours, follows your movements.

Dates are always fun. It doesn't matter where you go or what you do as long as Zayne's in your company. Cafe dates are cute, but Zayne always calls you out for staring at him with a weird look in your eyes—you were admiring him. Whenever you walk, you cling to him, wrapping yourself around his forearm while playfully weighing him down. He stumbles for a second but smiles.

You love leaving hickeys on him, even bite marks if he allows, but the rule is never above the collar of his shirt. You oblige 97% of the time. The other 3%, you sneak in a light hickey that passes off as a mosquito bite, just peeking through the collar of his dress shirt. Sometimes, there's one behind his ear, barely visible. He never knows, but the doctors and patients at the hospital do.

When you're apart, you always call him and go about your day. At night, you video call and try to stay awake, only to snooze off. Zayne chuckles at your attempts to wash the tiredness away, but sometimes, he falls asleep with you. In the morning, both of your phones end up overheating and out of battery.

Zayne loves your company, to others it may seem trouble some but with you, it was adorable. It's through your clingyness that he experiences feelings he never once did before, and those little things always brighten his day. You actions with him makes him feel more loved and he knows he has a hard time expressing them but with you around, it had become more and more easier.

Rafayel:

They say opposites attract, but you and Rafayel are the universal exception.

Rafayel doesn't like it when you're late. Even for a home-date, he fusses about being left alone too long and feeling abandoned. You laugh at his whining over text and enter his door. When he sees you, he jumps off the couch and pouts, "Finally, it took you long enough."

You're like magnets to each other. Wherever one goes, the other follows. If you're cooking ramen in the kitchen, Rafayel sneaks behind you, hugging your back and sniffing your hair. If he's watering flowers in the greenhouse, you sit nearby and watch a ladybug on a leaf. If he's painting, you're reading on a nearby couch. Rafayel's residence is too big for one person but just enough for two.

Rafayel whines when you do something without him, especially if it's something he wants to do. You once took a flower arrangement class without him, and he sulked, "Wow, you didn't even think to tell me? I wanted to do that with you." Even watching movies is hard because you need to pause and wait for him whenever he leaves the room. One time, you finished a mystery series without him, and he ate the tiramisu you were saving for dessert in revenge.

Matching clothes is a thing. He avoids tacky prints but opts for complementary outfits. Because of this, Rafayel buys clothes with you in mind, often choosing items with a feminine counterpart. His shoe closet and yours are practically the same, and you don't complain because Rafayel has good fashion taste.

You love cute matching items. You once bought a two-piece mug set with a heart design, and he took the other one without you knowing. He also took a keychain from your collection, matching the one you have in your wallet.

"Are you tired of me now?" he asks when you keep your distance, avoiding a hug. It's the middle of summer, and the AC is broken. You reek of sweat, and the last thing you want is to be touched. You sigh and pat his back, "After I take a bath, I'll give you all the hugs you want."

He asks about your plans every morning, almost as a ritual. You've gotten used to replying while getting ready. If both schedules permit, he joins you for grocery runs, laundry, or whatever mundane tasks you have. You make good use of him, letting him carry the bags even if you could do it yourself.

When Rafayel is at an exhibit, you bombard him with texts: jokes, articles, or random thoughts. He replies quickly, hiding from the audience, bored out of his mind. In return, he sends you pictures of his artwork, which you threaten to sell online as digital files. He blocks you for a good five minutes.

You're each other's wallpaper. Surprisingly, Rafayel asked to do it. You spent hours finding the perfect pose and recreating trending ones. Rafayel insisted on multiple retakes.

You were rafayel's missing piece. To him, you were the only thing that he has ever wanted in his life. He loved you dearly and a part of him was terrified that you don't reciprocate the same level of love as he does to you; but lo and behold, fate has given him a blessing after all those years of loneliness. His heart swoons at the very sight of your actions. You were clingy, that was factually true but the same goes for him. Nothing makes him more fulfilled than seeing you both think and love in the same wavelength.

Sylus:

His base has become your home. On days off, you often find yourself in one of three rooms: his bedroom, where you lie on his bed, tapping away on your phone or laptop; his kitchen, where the chef cooks whatever you want in exchange for listening to his stories from his little village; or the lobby, where Luke and Kieran update you on the most boring things in the building. Sylus doesn't mind at all; it's less work for Mephisto, and he can keep an eye on you.

Sylus's sleep schedule is the same as that of those in Linkon City. His days begin in the evenings, often leaving you lying in the big bed alone. Sylus is nearby or at his desk if he's not out on the streets. You like hugging his pillow because it smells like his 3-in-1 shampoo. If he's out on late-night trips, you selfishly steal his shirt from the closet, wear it on the pillow, and hug that to sleep, forcing yourself to be satisfied with what you got.

His lap is your chair. It doesn't matter where he's sitting; you always find yourself on him. Sylus sometimes complains about his thighs going numb, but when you leave, he yanks you back, positioning you between his legs, with your butt on the chair instead of his thigh. He goes back to his work as if nothing happened, occasionally sparing you a kiss on the forehead or rubbing his face against yours. If not, you shower his chest and neck with light pecks before snuggling into the crook of his neck.

His biceps are nice to the touch. On dates to the city, while waiting in line, you squeeze his muscles for entertainment, even through his thick leather jacket. He flexes for a minute before relaxing, amused at how easily you entertain yourself.

The boyfriend shirt phenomenon is common. You don't leave the base wearing his clothes, but you certainly walk around the area in them. Whether a turtleneck, a black blouse, or just a plain shirt, you're always wearing his clothes, even in his company.

You're an eccentric one, thats for sure. Sylus never truly got ahold of how you managed to change from being so distant to practically being glued to him. It was like he partnered up with a whole new different person. He wasn't complaining at all if anything, he found it admirable and a part of him was quietly relieved that time did all the adjusting between you and him. Despite being a bit too fussy at times, he'd be more than willing to compromise if that's what makes you happy.

Xavier:

You always steal his hoodies. They're big, soft, and smell like him, so you have two or three at home. Xavier scratches his head when he notices bare hangers in his closet. When you visit, he finally sees what's missing. No matter how many hoodies and jackets he buys for you, you always get your hands on his, almost becoming a problem. Now, he rotates his jackets, giving them to you on schedule.

Xavier's hair is too soft to be human. When he's on your lap, you massage his scalp and fidget with the ends of his silver hair. If you have hair elastics and a cute clip nearby, he ends up with his hair tied up or braided. He needs your help to take it off because it's too painful for him to do alone. Oops?

You prefer sitting beside him rather than across from him at a table. He didn't understand at first because he wanted to face you when eating. But when he's beside you, he slowly gets it. You like touching him one way or another. You enjoy your elbows touching or your thighs grazing each other. It's also convenient to lean slightly and rest your head on his shoulder.

Xavier loves bathing with you. The bathtub in his apartment is big enough for both. He likes the smell of your bath bombs and is sometimes fascinated by the toys or mini jewelry inside. Your back always presses against him, and he willingly holds you. On more stressful days, you light candles and open some cheap wine to enjoy in rose-covered water.

He's riddled with bite marks, even when not having sex. He's dozing off when you suddenly find his arm or leg appetizing. He jolts awake and tries to shake your grip, but it's too tight. When you've had enough, he stares at your work of art and wipes his saliva-coated limb. You grin, watching him wipe your fluids. Because of the frequency, he rarely lets his consciousness drift away when his bare arms and legs are around you.

When bathing alone, you use his shampoo instead of yours. It's surprising he doesn't use all-in-one shampoo and body wash; he uses baby shampoo. When confronted, he shrugs, saying it does the job, and recalls you like playing with his hair. His perfume and powder are also for babies.

In the eyes of Xavier, you were adorable even if your actions were questionable. You were cute, and he never once thought that your actions were a burden or suffocating. The things you do, the way you speak they were all precious in his eyes and Xavier understands that this was you way of showing your love for him. Because of that, he tolerates you every time you bite him.

Your gallery is full of his pictures. Candid photos you secretly take daily. Your favorite is when his cheeks are full of food, resembling a hamster. You take pictures when he's asleep, using you as a pillow. Sometimes, you're both looking at the camera, making random faces.

Author footnotes: I'm sorry if these were pretty general. I'm not the clingy type so I don't know how these type of people act but I wrote it with the things I observed from films and tiktok lol

Layout by me, using Canva premium | Do not repost |

[goldenstring6123]

going through a writing slump right now :/ but i will be posting something tomorrow and the day after, hehe. For the mean time, access my master list here and read a few of my old works! see ya tommie, pookies <3

[goldenstring6123]

Sylus: Naked and feisty

Warning: 16+, Suggestive content, almost nudity, female!mc

Author's notes: I wrote this 6 days ago and i just wanted to share even if it's not in the posting calendar lol.

"Why are you only in your underwear?" Sylus stops in his tracks the moment you set your foot out of the guest bedroom, towel around your neck and a comb in your hand.

"I'd like to ask you the same thing," The brush in your hand combed through your wet, freshly washed hair, leaving a few droplets onto the polished cement floor.

A sigh escaped his lips and an evident frown on his face. "This is my house, you brat, I can do whatever I want." thick and veiny hands traveled to the ribbon of his robe, un-doing the knot that held his cover in place. Swiftly, he threw the robe towards your way and pointed at it: "Put that on."

"It's night time," She tilted her head with a smirk, "I like to sleep naked." You lied to him and he, for sure, was not buying into it. A quick gruff escaped his lips and he made his way to the kitchen, ignoring your attempts at getting on his nerves.

"Do what you want, but just so you know," he tilted the moka pot into his small mug, opening a cabinet and getting a jar. "There's eyes all over my house, not mine, of course. Your images would be in the black market by tomorrow morning. You wouldn't want that *do you?"

"Hundreds of men lusted after seeing you at the auction, even with the mask on, they would be fools if they don't notice you right away." He sipped on his coffee, eyes on the woman that sat on his black couch, smirking at him in her lacy, maroon underwear.

It was a feast for his eyes

The n109 zone is a cold and chilly island, much less inside the home of the onichynus' leader. The hairs on your body was practically standing from the cold air, yet you remain determined to walk around in your bare clothing. Why were you doing this in the first place? There was only one reason:

You wanted him to loose his composure.

Petty and childish? Most definitely, but Sylus' irritable yet in one way or another: tolerant.

*towards you at least.

It was pure curiosity and presumably something that you can use when the time calls for it - A tool against him, his weakness.

"It's not as if this is the first time someone has seen me in this state," You chimed, almost worried that you sounded over confident to the point of faking it — No one has seen you naked before, not even your doctor, Zayne.

"tch—" Sylus clicked his tongue at the thought. God knows what he was imagining to have a scowl on his face.

Swift, and calm, almost tempting like a fox, you make your way to the towering curtains that blocked the full length window. A slither of silver peeked through the awning, hitting the floor.

"Let them see what they want to see, yeah? My body's not that different from any body else," Your fingers tugged on the black out curtains, pulling it to reveal the view of the dark, decrepit city, and a bunch of ravens and crows flying about the night sky.

Certainly there was no one in sight, yet you feel a gaze - more than one, and the strongest one coming from from that behind you.

You turn your heel and came face to face with his bare chest. A hand pressed you back against the glass with slight force, a knee squeezed in between yours. His fingers under your chin tilted you up to look at him and his eyes - filled with uncoceivable emotions, bore holes into your own eyes.

"If you like to parade your body around so much, Should i carve out a statue to your liking and display it in the middle of Linkon city? Or would you like me to commission that damned lemurian to paint you naked, You decide." there was a lace of venom in his voice, irritation colder than the breeze. "But between you and me,"

Behind you you hear the crows gawk in their flight.

He pulls himself closer to your neck, "i'll kill anyone who lays his eyes on your bare body."

Before your could retort, a spine chilling sting traveled from your neck, a pinch in your neck caused by his teeth nibbling, sucking until you pushed him away.

Sylus smirked at the sight of the hickey before turning his attention to the bird on the branch. Seeing a crow jerk its head in curiosity, he let out a chuckle.

"I don't share, Little brat." Sylus whispered to you, his voice deeper than anything you have heard someone speak. "and if you want to walk around naked," Without warning, he slung you onto his shoulder like a sack of cement and pulled on the curtains to a close.

"You can do so in my bedroom."

[goldenstring6123]

hello ! wanted to say i really love your writing style and your stories for the characters ! I wanted to know if you’d write one for Love and deep space Sylus? A scenario where you’re both sleeping but you sneak away quietly to get something from the kitchen or for whatever reason but he stops you with his powers (the handcuffs etc) to bring you back to bed. I’m not sure if i’m making sense but something along those lines! please and thank you!

Sylus: Kitchen Sneaker

Warning: No warning. Fem!reader, domestic fluff (?)

Author's note: This is a fun domestic-ish prompt to write! I hope you like it my dear pookies <3

masterlist | Buy me a thread? |

Sylus was fast asleep beside you.

The man was a light sleeper for the sake of his own safety. According to him, even if the building was as secure as it could be, there were some instances where he woke up with a knife to his throat. However, ever since you began sharing the same bed, he had been sleeping like a log, which was good for him and the twins because they no longer had to deal with his hot head so early in the evening.

But it was bad for you. Simply because Sylus likes to hold you in his sleep. Sometimes his hand would be over your chest, groping your breast or squeezing in between your boobs, but most times, he would be holding your wrist, checking your pulse. How was this bad for you? Well, living alone for most of your adult life, you liked to indulge yourself in a midnight snack or two. With him holding you captive to the bed, his iron grip holding on to you, it was like you had a ball and chain around your body.

You've indulged Sylus for over a week now, but the intense midnight craving is overwhelming.

Tonight, it's food over Sylus. The man can wait. Food cannot.

You scooted his hand very, very, very gently away from your body. This man's hand is heavy and large. Sylus didn't move and continued to sleep peacefully, his exposed chest rising and falling calmly. The room was very cold, and you could even hear the blowing of the AC; it was at that moment that you realized how such small sounds seemed to be so loud at night.

With every step you take, you are holding your breath even more. Even against the carpet, the rustling of your feet seemed like it could stir Sylus awake at any second. Thankfully, you managed to traverse across the room like a spy. You even had to carefully close the door shut.

You used the stairs to get down to the kitchen, and while you were walking in the hallway, the chef was just about to leave, his satchel bag on his shoulder.

He and you made eye contact. You gestured to him to 'shush,' and he laughed.

"There's some leftover dessert and pasta in the fridge—feel free to eat it," he whispered, and you grinned, giving him a thumbs up. Greg is the best chef ever. You tiptoed to the kitchen, waving him goodbye. Your eyes landed on that double-door fridge that was whirring loudly.

Finally! You could taste that delicious panna cotta and aglio olio in your mouth. Your hands wrapped around the handle of the fridge, and as you tugged, the bright blue light of the fridge lit up your face.

You took the plate and settled it on the stainless steel counter. The next one was the small glass filled with chocolate and cream. You marveled at its delicate, savory look. You took a spoon from the nearby utensil holder and dug it into the soft texture, eager to get a taste.

Before it could land between your lips—

A cold whirlwind of black, scentless smoke wrapped around the fork. It flung out of your grasp, and before you could let out a peep, you, too, were flung away from the kitchen counter.

The man let out a grunt, his eyes low-lidded and foggy, clearly just woken up from his slumber.

"Pray tell," he gruffed, his voice an octave lower. "What are you doing in the kitchen? You're supposed to be in bed." Sylus let out a sigh while he brought you closer to him. He glanced behind you and saw the unopened plate of pasta and panna cotta.

"Never mind. You don't need to speak."

"I'm hungry! Don't you know you shouldn't get between a woman and her food?" you exclaimed while tugging at the thing around your exposed waist. You thrashed and thrashed, the straps of your nightshirt sliding down your shoulders. "Put me down and go back to bed! I'll be with you in five—no, fifteen minutes!"

His head was aching from all the noise you were making, and combined with the fact that you were out of bed by the time he woke up—to Sylus, it seemed like you were testing his patience. "Did you not eat enough during dinner time? You know you could've asked for second servings."

"I get midnight cravings on occasion, but when I'm sleeping over, you tend to weigh me down in bed," you explained, flailing your legs, which were a few feet off the ground.

"So, you're blaming me now?" Sylus raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged. Of course, you were. It wasn't your fault you couldn't get out of bed, and it wasn't your fault that the chef made great food and desserts. He didn't like the look on your face but, regardless, put you down to the floor, his hand tugging your strap over your shoulders. His red eyes glazed over your bare chest, but he turned away, walking to that lonely plate of pasta.

"We're going back to sleep after you have your fill." Sylus unwrapped the plate and took a fork, twirling it and taking a bite. The oily, mild tinge of spiciness and Parmesan helped push him awake. He won't deny that the chef was good at his job—it was even enough for you to sneak out of his bed.

You mounted yourself onto the kitchen island, the cold marble surface cooling the bottom of your thigh. You took the panna cotta, and finally, the creamy and sweet flavor of chocolate and cream exploded in your mouth. Unconsciously, you nodded in approval of the taste.

Quietly, you ate in each other's company, occasionally making small talk. Sylus left the dish in the sink along with the fork, but when he turned to you, your nose was inside the refrigerator again. "Cake roll slice…" you uttered. The strawberry cake roll looked delicious inside the glass container.

Before you could even reach out to it, the smoke appeared at the very same spot, dragging you away from the fridge. Sylus closed the double-door refrigerator and crossed his arms right in front of you. A clear 'no' was plastered all over his face.

You let out a groan as he dragged you away with the smoky black and red rope around your waist.

When you got back to the bedroom, you expected Sylus to go right back to sleep. But instead, the man pulled a handcuff from underneath his pillow. How and why it was, there was a question you didn't want to ask him. Without another word coming out of his mouth, he chained it to himself and took hold of your wrist.

"No. You're not going to—"

He latched the real handcuff around your wrists and laid down on the bed, dragging you with him.

"Sleep."

The lights dimmed and flickered off at his word, and you just lay there, staring up at the canopy.

"I guess this is our bedtime routine now," you sighed.

"Sleep," he reiterated.

You seriously have no idea how you put up with this man.

Author footnotes: I also like to sneak out to the kitchen and eat but instead of sylus, It's my mom who sees me and then i get the clothes hanger beat up for staying up late at night lol.

Layout by me, using Canva premium | Do not repost |

[goldenstring6123]

helloooo! i’d like to request a short fic with this glorious prompt i thought about last night 🤭

let’s say reader gets a tattoo of xavier’s sword (like the design behind his latest promise outfit) all the way down their back ;) i would die to see how he would react to this nyehehehe

it can be either fluff, suggestive, smut, up to you with whatever you’re comfy with <3 tysm hehe

Xavier: Ink & sword

Warning: Very suggestive! 16+ only, showering together, nudity, kissing, sensual touching, fem!reader, reader is not the mc but works as a hunter

Author's note: :>

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"I'm sorry—I knocked you back too hard," Xavier's hand reached down towards yours, and you, on the other hand, were buried underneath some plastic crates at the corner of the training room. He waited for you to take his hand. "Are you alright?"

You took his hand and used him to hoist yourself back to your feet, a tinge of pain and ache flowering from different parts of your back. You dropped the sword that you were holding, and it immediately dissipated into thin air. You looked at Xavier and patted his chest, trying to ease out that slight frown on his face.

"I'm alright. We deal with worse stuff on the battlefield."

Right above the entrance, a big digital clock projected the time in neon blue colors: 23:03. You and Xavier had been training for over three hours, and now the training grounds had been rid of people except for the two of you. Well, it couldn't be helped; Xavier's training regimen requires more time to perform, considering the complexity of his fighting style and condition.

Still, the fact that you can keep up is very noteworthy even in the eyes of others, though the only thing you were doing was defending and keeping your stance. The only worrying thing is that sometimes, Xavier forgets that you're just a normal hunter and tends to exert a bit more force when sparring.

You let out a small groan while you moved towards the shower room, and Xavier was walking right beside you, ready to reach out in case you toppled over. The frown was still on his face as if he regretted showing you that magnificent finishing blow. "Do you need help?"

You glanced at the shower room and hooked your index finger under his chin, turning his head slightly, the cheeky little teasing mood suddenly erupting from within you. "Are you offering to help me bathe? How daring of you."

"Uh...I didn't—" Xavier's doe eyes went wider than the moon, his nose and ears turning pink upon realizing your words.

You just loved finding the opportunity to fluster this little man.

Unbeknownst to Xavier, you knew how he has a little ongoing crush on you—credits to Tara for having that habit of snitching when drunk. And for a strong fighter, it feeds your ego to have him wrapped around your fingers.

"Can you just hand me the menthol patches in the kit?" you pointed at a small box nearby, one attached to the metal post. It was a first aid kit reserved for them. Xavier strode to the said post while you entered the washroom.

You opened your locker with your thumbprint and undid the brown leather support. Swiftly, you unbuttoned your blouse, picked at how it clung to your body, damp and riddled with dust and sweat. Finally, the stuffy bathroom air brushed against your sweat-ridden back.

"I got the patches..." Xavier entered the bathroom, the white menthol patches in his grasp. When he lifted his head to look at you, his eyes trailed from the curve of your form—eyes landing on the intricate tapestry of dark blue and white ink tattoo carved onto your back.

The shame of walking in on you naked disappeared in an instant.

You stared as Xavier slowly stepped beyond the room's threshold. You kept your blouse pressed against your chest, and even if you were nearly topless, Xavier's eyes never broke contact from your back. Why would he? The image of his very own sword was on your back.

"Is this why you wanted to take a picture of my sword?" His cold fingers slid down the dip of your spine, his eyes absorbing every bit of nitty-gritty detail about the tattoo. As much as he admires his real pristine sword, the image of it on your back is simply...breathtaking.

"Maybe? Do you like it?" You kept still, facing the locker. At that moment, every touch he made on your body was amplified beyond normal. The coolness of his fingers felt good against your warm back.

"It's beautiful," he uttered. The thin saber was positioned perfectly downwards to your spine, ending just above where your pants began, curving whenever you moved. The handle was positioned just between your shoulder blades. Feathers littered the rest of the space, some in blue and some in white. The intricate carvings on the side of his sword were perfectly captured. "Why did you choose my sword?"

"Well," your hand chucked the blouse in the locker. You glanced over your shoulder, the silver-haired man anticipating your answer. "It's because it was beautiful; I can't get my mind off of it." It just so happens that the man wielding it is beautiful as well. A beauty beyond the stars.

You turned back to face the locker, folding your blouse, thinking that Xavier had had enough of seeing the tattoo. Your lips opened, prepared to ask him to leave as you were nearly topless, if not for that low-back bra you're wearing, but before you could blurt a single word, Xavier pressed his lips on your shoulders.

It was as if his kiss had flicked a switch within you. You stiffened, leaning over while your hands hung at the edge of the locker. "Xavier? Did you just—"

The man placed another kiss lower. You could feel his tongue graze the surface of your skin. "Mhm, your skin is salty."

His words sobered you up; it wasn't exactly an insult, but that made you think. You stood up straight and faced him, your eyes coated with a sheen of lust and desperation. "I'm full of sweat. Do you really intend on having..." You held yourself back from spouting such vulgar words. "Never mind. Wait for me. I'm going to take a shower."

You took the towel and ran to the shower areas. It was dead silent. You pondered. Was Xavier really doing what you think he was going to do? Did the sword on your back push him to the edge?

All the thoughts crept at the back of your neck, but the softness of Xavier's lips remained. The hot water drizzled all over your body, releasing you from the stickiness of the fluids. You combed back your hair and looked up at the shower head, relishing the comfort of the rain-like sensation—for a few seconds at least.

The shower curtain shifted, and Xavier took a step in. His bare chest pressed against your back, and you spun quickly at the contact. Your eyes widened at the sight of his bare body—it's not the first time you saw it, but still—"Why are you here?"

"Let's take a shower together. Turn around, I'll wash your back."

"Do all training partners do this? Bathe together? Is this new?" You panicked, instinctively covering your areas while backing up against the cold porcelain wall. You stared up at him, the soft eyes no longer there. He looked intimidating now that he was towering over you.

"Do training partners sleep with each other when they get stuck in the mountains?" he uttered.

At that moment, the hazy memory of that stormy night flashed inside your head—the warmth of his touch, the flickering of the makeshift fireplace, his skin against yours, and his mouth exploring your body. Your face began to grow red at that memory.

Xavier's hands crawled to your hips, gently nudging you to turn. You didn't want to go against him, and at the same time, you were expecting something to happen because you would admit that Xavier was good. He felt good. His taste, his skill, and his size—what you didn't expect was that it wasn't going to be a one-time thing.

His hands were gliding on your back, and his burning stare trailed down to your ass. You bit your lip at the embarrassment. His hands, which were on your waist, found themselves holding on to your love handles, and gently, Xavier pulled your hips backward, coming into contact with his semi-hard-on.

"Shit," you uttered under your breath. Even if it wasn't fully hard, you could still clearly feel it. A million thoughts raced through your head, but there was one emotion that was prevalent: Erotic desire.

Xavier's lips came into contact with your back again, but this time, you couldn't help but flinch at every contact because his tongue and teeth grazed and gritted, intentionally leaving marks at Xavier's whims. Just by that, you were gasping for air, anticipating where he would bite next.

His fingernails scraped at your skin, tracing every curve and line of the tattoo; his touch was electrifying, but you craved more. How can he be so gentle but leave you feeling unexplainable things?

He peppered your back with light kisses from the dip of your back slowly, slowly crawling back up to your exposed nape. "Don't leave marks on my neck," you uttered between breaths. A loud pop of Xavier's kiss bounced off the shower room.

"Turn around, please. I want to see you," Xavier whispered. You looked over your shoulder, and you could see him stepping back a little bit, eager to see your body.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and turned to him, still covering your body. Admittedly, he was a little perplexed at seeing you acting all shy when it was you who was provoking him earlier, but poking fun at you wasn't right for the moment.

He brushed a stray hair that stuck onto your cheek and smiled, looking into your eyes fondly. "There's no need to hide," he said, taking a step closer. "You're beautiful."

His big hands caressed your elbows and slid up to your biceps, nudging you to loosen up. Your hands dropped from your body, but instead of letting them fall completely, you wrapped your hands around his neck.

You pressed your lips together, but all of a sudden, footsteps erupted.

"Is anyone in here?" the lady guard called. "Security!"

You covered Xavier's mouth and stared into his eyes, saying: 'Don't make a sound.'

"Oh, yes! I just finished training!" you yelled back.

"Alright, but please leave after 5 minutes. We're about to turn down the power for the entire floor."

"Sure! I'll be out in a minute," you replied. You and Xavier waited for a solid minute before moving. You let go of the breath you were holding, took the bar of soap from the holder, and gave it to Xavier. "Let's continue that at your apartment when we get home."

Author footnotes: Cockblocked by me, the author. Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost |

MASTER LIST | Buy me a thread?

[goldenstring6123]

GUYS THEY'RE BACK AT IT AGAIN AT MAKING MY HEART SWOON 😭😭😭

The drawings are absolutely adorable 💛💛💛 I wanna bite Mini Xavier's cheek NNOMNOMNOM the mismatched socks is a very cute detail which I coincidentally relate to very much😂

I love these drawings of the kids—I kid u not I was looking forward if you're going to do Xavier and Zayne's kids and lo and behold ✨🌟🎉

Thank u for making these drawings! They always make my day! Keep up the good work pookie, sending lots of luv ❤️🖤💛

LNDS: Kids with MC pt. 2!

Hello hello again! Some of you may have seen my previous post, so now it’s time for the rest of them!! Of course, I’d like to once again thank @goldenstring6123 for their post about the boys as parents; it inspired me to draw and make my own headcanons. Their post mentions Zayne and MC adopting two kids which makes so much sense to me and Xavier and his son… Precious!!! Their writing is amazing and the rest of their content is chef’s kiss so go check out their stuff if you haven’t already!!

MC x Zayne

The older brother has excellent penmanship, a lot better than MC’s and his sister’s

Has the best grades in the school, seen as the model student

He’s a popular guy, friendly with everyone and always lends a hand, but doesn’t let any outing with friends interrupt any time with his family (his sister has to reassure him that yes, it’s fine to miss one of her practices)

He often likes to help whoever is cooking by cutting or washing vegetables and other things

He likes cats, but cats don’t like him

Whenever Zayne is seen eating something sweet, he asks his father how much he’s had (Zayne: “… Some things are only meant to be between my dentist and I.”)

Helps his sister with studying and has amazing lot of patience

The younger sister is a rising star in ice skating!

Whenever she visits Zayne with MC and her brother, she always leaps into his arms, even when he’s having a conversation with his colleagues; his coworkers see firsthand how sweet and fatherly Zayne can be…

She has poor eyesight and uses contact lenses; doesn’t like wearing her glasses very much

She’s Zayne’s dealer for sweets and is happy to be rewarded with a loving head pat

Often asks others to tie her hair up for her, Zayne is really good at braiding now

LOVES bandages that have cute designs on them and puts them on her fingers even without any injuries, causes Zayne to worry before being told it’s for fashion

Likes to go shopping with MC, whether it be for fun stuff or regular things needed around the house

MC x Xavier

Has to be stopped from getting all the plushies from the arcade, though he does give a lot of them out to other arcade goers

One of his most prized possessions is a telescope that MC gifted him, he often brings his parents to look at the stars with him

Animals LOVE him; there’s been many times when he’s been approached by deer or rabbits on camping trips

A surprisingly good cook, thinks its funny that Xavier can’t

Sees Xavier napping and often joins him; MC has many pictures of the two of them together

Likes to take photos, but the subject matter seems to be pretty random (“Little star, why did you take a photo of the back of my head?”)

Often has mismatched socks

Reads comics/manga, but doesn’t watch a lot of tv

Has a stuffed rabbit sewn from his childhood blanket, it still presides on his bed as he grows older

Likes to wear casual clothing, isn’t too happy when he has to wear a suit for an event

If brought to headquarters, wants to help everyone by bringing them snacks or drinks; everyone just thinks its cute to see him run around

Calls Tara “auntie”

Of course, when he does start to train, he shows a lot of promise

Kitty Cards champion

I’ve had a lot of fun drawing and writing these! These are also kind of specific, since I was thinking about my MC ^^ Thanks for reading!

[goldenstring6123]

Lnds: The boys as parents

Warning: Long post ahead! 3.7K words in total! reader is MC! f!reader, AFAB!reader, implied abortion

Author's note: I went a little too overboard and specific with this one... IDK if you guys will like it. Might make a part 2/Individual fics it this post does well!

Zayne as a father:

He became a parent to 2 kids, both adopted. The eldest is a boy, and the youngest is a girl.

After a life-threatening complication when you were pregnant (it involved the problem in your heart, you and your husband decided to adopt instead. The first was a 4-year-old boy and, later on, a 2-year-old girl from an island near Linkon City.

Zayne works hard as a chief surgeon; even then, the pay at AKSO Hospital is no joke. Despite preparing more than enough money to live comfortably with a child, something within him fueled his desire to do better: before you got married, he worked hard to become a part of the Hospital's board of directors. This allowed him to control his time more and spend fewer hours working.

When you and Zayne adopted your first boy, a 4-year-old named Elias, you met him as a quiet little boy which you found working hard to try and read an outdated newspaper on the island. A few months later, you discovered your now-son's interests in academics and learning. Zayne was pleasantly surprised to see his little boy eager to learn about things outside of the island, so much so that the chief surgeon almost immediately registered him to enter formal schooling.

Most people would assume that, like himself, he expected his son to achieve great things in school, but on some school nights, before bedtime, Zayne would talk to your son. "You're doing well in school, Elias. But don't forget to have fun." You thought Zayne would never really have time to visit your son's plays and school activities. Still, much to your surprise, he was there for most of it, especially in events where your son is involved. It was such a comedic sight watching your husband hold a noncellular camera.

Being a part of the hospital board of directors meant long and lengthy meetings, so there were times when he still had to work late and leave beyond working hours. Sometimes, you let your son stay up and accompany you to pick up your husband. Of course, that's also to buy a hotpot for a midnight snack on the way. There were also times when you and your son would fall asleep on the couch waiting for him. He quickly picks you up and places you on his bed, tucking you and himself five minutes later. The next thing you know, it's morning, and the smell of waffles is wafting in the air.

He wasn't outwardly affectionate, but it's more than evident that he loves his son. He praises him to his colleagues (unknowingly), and he gives him gifts, and the cost doesn't matter. But sometimes, he shows love to his child through words, Complimenting his son's actions and skills.

He rarely scolds his son as he's the less strict parent. Your dynamic is the type where if you don't allow your son to go do something, he'll call his dad for backup. You almost always give in. Zayne never really puts his hand on his son. Instead, he opts for a more, face-the-consequence-of-your-actions type of dad. He lets his son be and ensures Elias learns that there are things he can't and shouldn't do. On more bad days, when your son is extremely hard-headed, Zayne will tell him what to do.

A few years later, despite many ups and downs, both of you decided to adopt from the same island again. It was a year-old infant named Penelope who was handed to the orphanage due to the death of her mother.

Between the two of you, Zayne was the one who fell in love first. He never expected to be a girl dad, and he didn't think too much of it until he saw her in your arms. The first thing she did was grab his finger and giggle, looking so beautiful against the island's sunset.

When she grew a bit older, Zayne became fond of how she began to resemble you in terms of actions and personality. She was undoubtedly the type of kid to make a fuss about the little things and act cunningly to get her way and, at the same time, not cry over the things that made her sad or hurt her.

She was often seen with you and clinging to you if not Elias. With her, things were an unspoken competition between Elias and Zayne. He was her first in many things: first dance, first time riding a bike, and first parent to be called by her, except for the first kiss. Her first kiss was given to his older brother, and it was on the forehead. Zayne sulked for the rest of the day while your son held that against him, stating that his little sister loves him more than his dad.

Despite this, Zayne and Elias developed another thing, an unspoken urge to protect the little girl. It may not seem like it, but Elias always focuses on Penelope, ensuring she's doing alright in school and having fun. Zayne sometimes sneaks into the daycare to peek at her daughter's condition. On Zayne's day off, Elias would tell stories about what Penelope does on a day-to-day basis. Thanks to his son, he was well-versed in her daughter's life events despite working a lot in the Hospital.

Xavier as a father:

Xavier is a father to one male child.

It was an unplanned pregnancy, which you only realized when you had your Quarterly checkup at headquarters. The doctor ruled you unfit to work on the field because you were carrying a month-old baby. You gagged at the news, and on the same day, you told Xavier. He just stared at you and turned red.

Xavier was…enthusiastic(?) with your pregnancy. Despite being the type not to really change when you were pregnant, he was always on guard and on your beck and call, buying out whatever cravings you had, even at midnight or on a rainy day (He was the one having cravings; You settled with whatever food you had in the house.)

While you were at home resting with him, you observed his behavior change. He was more silent than usual, looking out of the window; when you asked, he told you that his having a child felt like a fever dream. Xavier was unprepared to be a father but willing to learn. His trove of light novels and comic books slowly began to be invaded by parent magazines and guidebooks on caring for an infant. If he has some day off, he will be by your side to help you do stuff around the house or attend parenting classes behind your back.

When you gave birth, even through the amniotic fluid and white stuff covering the child, you could easily see that he was a pure carbon copy of Xavier. There was no part of the little baby that resembled you at all. Both in physical appearance and in attitude. Xavier cried tears of joy upon seeing your child born, albeit he never showed anyone his crying face. You know he did because his eyes and nose were puffier than usual.

The baby was quiet; it coos, plays with its saliva, and asks for a lot of milk, but I rarely cry. The only time it cries is if a loud sound is disturbing it from sleeping. And even when he cries, gently tapping and lulling him within five minutes will stop the little guy from crying.

The baby was attached to him. The baby would unknowingly leer towards him whenever he was around, asking to be picked up, to which Xavier would happily do so. He was a sleepy child and liked to nap even in broad daylight. He was easily fed and didn't put up much of a fight, even in his older years.

At the age of three, it was the beginning period where his little meek personality began to change. The kid was adventurous and the curious type. He was often found in his own world observing the little things in life, like a trail of ants or a kitten atop a tree branch, yet it seemed like he was curious to learn more things. He liked to observe from up close, which is why he was often seen on tiptoes trying to look over a lot of stuff or squatting down to observe the smaller insects on the ground.

To help him foster his talents and strengths, Xavier brings him to the headquarters once a week to let him run around and train. You were against it initially, but seeing your little boy imitate his father with clumsy focus made your heart swoon. A few years later. The kid was in school; Xavier was the one who attended the boy's school activities as you had to work most of the time, leading a team of your own.

He was doing well compared to the average students in school. Still, the teacher complained that the little boy kept sleeping in class, often getting him scolded and demerit. Xavier scratched his head and apologized, saying the little boy must've been exhausted after midnight play-dates with him.

Xavier keeps physical albums in his home, one for the family, one for you and him, and one dedicated to your child's life. Much to your surprise, he was more hands-on with his child than you might expect. Xavier never lets you carry your son for too long; he's afraid that you would collapse from exhaustion. He'd also be the one to put him to sleep, almost always falling asleep with his own son.

He's not the type to gift his child physical things (he still does occasionally). He would prefer to take you guys out to different locations, like a new arcade, a new park, or a place where your son could explore freely and safely. Xavier adores his child and keeps a photo of him on his lock screen. On his desk is a family picture of you and him that you take every year.

Xavier was the favorite parent when the little boy grew up because he was calmer, more collected, and the cooler one between you two. It's not that you weren't, but you know how boys are. Xavier tells his son many stories that he passes off as "fairytales" when, in reality, it was actually his real adventures in the decades he has lived and worked. But his favorite ones were when he and you fought against the wanderers side to side.

Needless to say, Xavier was a role model and a doting father. Because his appearance never really changed, at some point in the far future, he would be mistaken as the little boy's twin brother instead. It became a running joke in your family, so much so that out of pity, your son decided to dye his hair a different color to make him distinguishable.

Xavier and your son continued to have a boss and subordinate relationship in the hunter's association, which a lot of people really admired. On the other hand, you ran the bigger team and were on the field most of the time. Memories of regular days are filled with seeing each other in the medical Bay, on the field, or in a restaurant after a long fight on the field.

Rafayel as a father:

Father to two girls.

Rafayel's baby was not planned. In fact, he never believed you were pregnant until he saw signs of your body changing, especially the morning sickness and cravings. It's not that he didn't want to be a father, but it was simply too sudden for him, and he couldn't absorb it well.

He went a little overboard in preparation, hoarding many little clothes that your child would definitely outgrow. He brags about your pregnancy to many people, saying he's excited to be a father and always wanted a family of his own. People congratulate you a lot, even if you don't know who they are. On random days, you keep getting mail for some reason, and it's oversized packages: bassinets, branded feeding bottles, bottle steamers, and a box full of infant diapers. Safe to say, you really didn't need to buy a lot of things for your little passenger.

Unlike you, who was pretty lenient in designing the bedroom for your daughter, he was nit-picky as hell. The interior designer and suppliers had a hard time dealing with your husband, and you could only apologize secretly on his behalf. Nonetheless, the room turned out to be more beautiful than you expected.

When the baby arrived, he was crying, but he denied it. Yet everyone in the room could see him cry like a diva. Everyone wanted to see the baby, and so did your friends. Still, to your surprise, Rafayel refrained from letting anyone visit you for fear of the infant contracting any diseases from the visitors.

You decided to name her Anastasia. He was undeniably meant to be a girl dad. There was no day in the week when the little baby was dressed poorly. She would always wear on-brand clothes; even simple pajamas cost more than they should. He bought her dolls, stuffed toys, and those big dollhouses collectors buy.

When the little baby girl grew up and began to attend school, Rafayel would always ask for a kiss on the cheek, which your daughter would happily give.

Rafayel likes to gossip with you and your daughter, and he is a good source of news because he always knows the juicier side of stories. With your daughter, he knows the reputation of each and every parent. Sometimes, they go too far and pick on your daughter's classmates, e.g., telling them that their clothes are old-fashioned or that one kid looks like a mean bully. The bad thing is, your daughter thinks so as well. You and Rafayel once went to her sports day competition and saw her play a three-legged race partnered with a boy. You could see the smoke coming out of Rafayel's head, and you had to cover his mouth because he was uttering profanities. Something like: "Get your hands off my daughter, you little…"

Raf likes to give gifts as a sign of affection, and your daughter is thankful, but on special days, she doesn't request anything. Instead, she insists on having a dad-daughter date instead. Thanks to those moments, Raf began to lean more towards spending time together rather than showering her with gifts.

She grew up replicating Rafayel's diva-ness as her form of humor, and she usually tries to get away with stuff using that method. But she was family-oriented, being the type to show affection outwardly. She most definitely became a daddy's girl and would always go to him for help.

Later on, when your first child reached her teen years, you decided to have another child, and this time, it was a girl whom you named Charlotte. Rafayel was more tamed with the room decoration this time, but not with the gifts and outfits. He didn't allow any secondhand items from Anastasia to be given to the younger one.

Rafayel, despite already being a seasoned dad, was more overprotective with his second daughter, hiring a nanny for her. He would be restless if he didn't manage to see her for two days, so he refrained from going out of town unless necessary. If he did, however, he would always call you and ask how Charlotte was doing. You would turn the phone to your daughter, but she wouldn't pay him any mind and continue coloring in her little notebook.

Unlike Anastasia, Charlotte preferred to be with you. She was the more reserved of the two siblings, but she was mature for her age. She knew what she wanted and would outwardly deny if whatever she was doing or receiving was not to her liking. She wasn't that dramatic and would just stare at her sister or father whenever they exaggerated their emotions in front of her.

Sometimes, you and Charlotte just like to watch your other daughter and your husband act all dramatic. Then you just brush them off and spend your day drinking tea and eating cupcakes.

Sylus as a father

Sylus is the father of twins. One boy, one girl.

You weren't married when you found out you were pregnant; you were his lover by then, but you were severely unprepared to have children, considering the environment you guys were in. You got married in secret, and he made a promise to protect you and your children despite living in the N109 zone.

Upon the birth of your children, he was mainly on edge. He got you the best doctors and midwives. Although your birth was surprisingly smooth sailing, you heard some stories from the nurses nearby about how Sylus was threatening a doctor if you ended up with complications. Thankfully, the twins were delivered safely.

Between the twins, the eldest is a girl you named Mauve, and the boy, Claude. Mauve had your eyes, but his hair color was daunting, and he had a more pale skin tone, while Claude resembled you more than Sylus, except for his eyes.

Sylus didn't care much for the children; he made that apparent by focusing more on you and his work and leaving the kids to the nanny. That quickly changed after six months. On a random day, he saw you tending to your children, both sleeping soundly in your arms. You seemed at peace inside the bedroom, looking out into the distance. Something switched inside of Sylus, which neither of you can point out, but there was one thing for sure: You guys were now a family.

The mindset change perplexed you the most because, beginning that day, Sylus made a quiet effort to learn how to take care of the twins. He was often seen with the nanny, asking for specific methods of washing the feeding bottles or bathing the twins. And in no less than a month, he was practically the one taking care of your children whenever he was at home.

Sylus doesn't spoil his children more than necessary. Sure, they had rooms of their own and a decent amount of toys, branded items, and clothes, but he only gave them a little more than necessary. He firmly believes that children should learn to work hard at an early age to not get disappointed in the future; you scolded him for that, though, after all, they were just children.

Sylus always plays with his children whenever he can. He doesn't like it when family time is interrupted by business, so he ensures no one disturbs the residence until you and the children have had enough fun. His play methods are surprisingly tame and even comedic; after all, the sight of Sylus dawning twin-tails and stickers on his face doesn't come by that often. On days when he's out of town, Luke and Kieran are the ones who play with the children, and not even they can withstand the dress-up and role-play.

Whenever things get complicated in the organization, or even a hint of danger lurks around the family, Sylus sends you and the children away to a residence under a different name. It was located on a more private island, which only his private jet could access. Then, he deals with the problem as swiftly as possible.

A few more years later, Sylus changed. His principle of hard work equals good rewards shifted, and he slowly began to spoil the twins. They were spoiled, but it was surprising that they were obedient. That is until you spied around them when you were supposed to be at work. It was thanks to this that you realized another thing: Sylus is the type of father who says, "I can't do anything, your mother said no. Sorry, kids." when you're around and "C'mon kids, who will scold you? Your mom is at work, and I'm the parent in charge!" when you're not.

Thanks to this, you also discovered the real nature of your children behind the nice, good children facade.

They were naughty: They liked to play pranks on your husband, but Sylus always outsmarts them. You constantly wondered where they were picking up these silly pranks until you saw them huddled together with Luke and Kieran in a random corner of the house.

The twins were cunning: They greeted guests with a smile and treated maids with care, but they sneaked around the staff room and reported to Sylus what they heard. Once, they broke a vase and convinced you that Mephisto did it.

They were eccentric: The smiles on their faces were business smiles whenever other people were around. Note they were smiling ear to ear, but their smile was unsettling once you realized that you had entered the house of Onichynus' leader. It was almost threatening even.

Sylus, despite not looking like it, valued education as he believed it could give his children an advantage. Still, he'd let his children be street-smart rather than book-smart. Because of this belief, he would bring his children around for business meetings and less dangerous missions. You once argued with him over the twins' safety. Still, they reassured you that they're more than capable of protecting themselves.

A few years later, into adulthood, Claude was quietly regarded as a lethal weapon due to his proficiency in engineering (nuclear & Chemical) and in statistics; His background and frightening loyalty to his father and Onychinus amplified the organization's fearsome reputation.

On the other hand, Mauve was the front of Onychinus, often leaving the country to make business deals on behalf of his father, who was busy working at home. The woman was responsible. She was undoubtedly a gambler who believed high stakes = high rewards, yet she had never once lost that gamble.

But when you and your family get together for dinner every week, it's like they're the most mundane family ever, talking about what they hear out on the street and what the new neighbors are up to or what new places to visit in Linkon City. You just…came to accept it.

Author's footnotes: Alright this post is too long for my own liking but it would be longer if I go in depth about your family details. and at this point, this is like an AU... Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost |

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