#Rafayel x gn!reader

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

Love and Deepspace Guys with an S/O that Craves Affection

Original Ask:

੭ ᐕ)੭*⁾⁾hii! i just wanted to say that i lov your works, especially the love and deepspace hcs, and i wanted to request the Love and deepspace boys with a reader who craves attention and love because they never got it from their family.

thxx have a wonderful dayy!

CW: none? Maybe hurt/comfort, gn!reader

A/N: hoenstly, this one was a little rougher to write. Not that I mind, but I'm fairly familiar with the feeling, and dredging up old BS is never fun. That said, I like imagining our boys in these kinds of situations. It's very theraputic

Requests are OPEN

Rafayel

Honestly, I think of the boys, he's the person who would have the hardest time

It's not that he's not affectionate, but part of his personality is that indirect, teasing method of communication

In this particular situation, I feel like you would need a very direct form of affection

I do think fish boy would be very willing to I've that affection, especially in a physical form. He seems like the sort who would really enjoy cuddles, but getting praise and affection directly is not going to be as easy

If you're direct about your needs, however, he will do his best. He doesn't want to alienate you and he really does want to give you the best he can

On the other hand, 100% expect him to give your family no respect whatsoever. Raf is totally willing to be rude and even more aloof than he is normally and he may very well not even give them the time of day

Your family wants to visit? Nah. He's just going to recommend a visit to the beach instead. If you are, somehow, on good terms with your parents he's going to take a lot of persuading to get into the same room, much less be cordial. Granted, it's hard enough to get him to consider a social engagement to start with, so that's not really a deviation from normal behavior

Xavier

Sweet, sweet, sleepy Xavi is the exact opposite of Raf. He is amazing at this, in part because affection comes very easy to him--at least after you get together

He is super fond of cuddles and time spent together and anything like that, so giving it is a natural extension of that

I will say, he's not as verbally expressive (it's kinda hard when he sleeps so much) but given that his favorite pillow is probably you, I think the point gets across quite well

The one downside is that sometimes you can be feeling particularly in need of attention and affection and well, he's asleep. Or at work. But probably asleep, so he's a bit unaware

Of course, he's totally down if you tuck yourself under his arm and cuddle anyway, but sometimes you need him awake

But he's fairly aware of this and insists that you communicate and wake him up if need be. And he will at least try to stay awake. No guarantees (I mean how the fuck does he manage to sleep standing up?), but he'll try

Zayne

Zayne is actually hard for me to peg, despite him being 100% my bias

For Zayne, action trumps words. He's a quiet person, but he's actually very demonstrative

He's also very cerebral about it and observant, so he may very well pick up on your need for attention and love before you're even aware of it yourself

He does research and definitely recommends therapy. He's well aware that it can be difficult to fulfill your needs because, well, overtime

He's a workaholic and that habit is hard to break, especially with his own issues and his care for his patients

That being said, when you're in the same place, expect a lot of affection

Whether it's holding hands, or a hand around your waist, or little things like taking care of your physical well being. He has this knack for making you feel seen and safe and cared for without verbally expressing his emotions

He also makes sure you know that if you need to call, you can. If he's free he'll never ignore you and get back to you as soon as possible

[diluczangelz]

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Little acts of love is what’s gonna take a boy to a man and these MEN know how to treat their partners

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎

He 100% kisses every inch of exposed skin when the opportunity arises.

Your bracelet? He’s kissing your wrist after securing the clasp.

Your necklace? He’s moving your hair and kisses the back of your neck and curve of your shoulders.

Help putting on shoes? He’s kissing your ankle and up your calf, taking his sweet time savouring the moment.

Helping to zip up your dress? (For my more feminine readers) he’s kissing up your spine as the zipper slowly closes over each kiss he left; sealing it to your skin.

Sensual shower time and you want him to undress you? (for my male and GN readers) he’s kissing down from the shell of your ear and down to your chest. His hands holding tight to your waist, cementing in the feel of your skin to his memory.

Oh no you dropped something at the table and bend down to pick it up? Yeah his hand immediately covers the corner of the table to protect your head.

You regularly smoke in the morning? Guess who pre-rolled one and left it for you on the bed side table before he went to work, that’s right he did. With fresh water in the cup.

Fresh (either hand picked or hand selected) flowers that he brings to every date and these are florist flowers, not after thought supermarket flowers, he took the time to choose these. Or pick them fresh for you.

[totallyxtaurus]

Depollute me, gentle angel

Summary: Sylus is away on a business trip while you sink deeper into your depressive episode. Pairing: Sylus x gn reader Genre: Angst (I guess, I'm not sure lol) Trigger Warnings: depression, mental health struggles, anxiety, self-neglect, and hints of suicide A/N: Soo I was going to make a fluffy/smutty story but my PMDD hit me hard af and then BOOM, this. This was super hard yet easy to write at the same time probably because it's a self insert lol like this is literally me. Sylus' "perfect" persona does intimidate me and I grappled with the thoughts of "what if Sylus was real, could he actually handle this?" I hope everyone enjoys and please please please remember to take care of yourselves! 💗

Next

When was the last time you crawled out of bed today? Your stomach twisting, hunger pangs turn into nausea. But the thought of forcing your limbs to carry you into the kitchen for food feels insufferable. So, you stay buried in the tangle of unmade, unwashed sheets. A hint of fabric softener desperately clinging to the fibers, the stale scent of sweat and skin already taking over. Earlier, you pressed your nose into your shoulder, checking. The sweet floral deodorant from days ago (you think) has spoiled into something sour.  

Each day and sleepless night blend together. They become hard to tell apart, except when the phone rings. Work is calling again—probably to ask when you’ll be back in or to terminate you. You know you should care—you do care! Well, you used to. You liked your job; you were good at it. But does it bring you joy? Right now, does anything?

Everything feels like a chore that you can’t be bothered to attempt. Showering? The thought alone is exhausting. But thinking about the steps that come before the shower is enough to make you sit in your own filth. You reach up absently. Your fingers get lost in the greasy roots and tangle in the mess below. Dandruff flakes dust your pillow. You picked at your scalp while scrolling for hours. Anything to pull you out of this pit you’ve fallen into, for a moment of relief. Your stomach churns each time your tongue touches the slimy coating that has built up on your teeth. Panic spikes at the thought of cavities—the decay, a reminder of neglect. Yet, there you lie, paralyzed by your own anxieties. God, you want to move. You really do. But then you tell yourself, I’ll brush them after I eat, for sure. You know it’s a lie. But it makes the guilt easier to swallow.  

These bouts come and go, pulled in by a force you can’t escape—because you are the force. Like the moon dragging in the tides, summoning waves too strong to withstand. When you’re up, you trick yourself into thinking that you have it all together, like you’ve cracked some secret code. You throw yourself into work, into people, an endless loop on performance mode. Blissfully numb. Until the crash. The tide swells too high, knocking you under and swallowing you whole. Then you’re here, again. Bedridden. Isolated. Time slips through your fingers. Days, weeks—who knows how long. Until someone notices your absence. Usually, him. Then you have to explain why you vanished and begin to collect the pieces of you that have washed back ashore.

“You should trust Sylus more," your therapist had said, voice gentle but firm. “Let him in during these episodes. He wants to help you.”  

You nodded, pretending to consider it, not missing the way they emphasized the "want to help you" part. But the idea was absurd, laughable. Let Sylus see you like this? No, it’s better this way. You can keep your dignity and him, a win-win situation.

This episode—as your therapist calls it—came at the perfect time. Sylus is away on a business trip, conveniently absent when you’ve sunk to your lowest. He gives you roughly three days of no contact before the constant calls start rolling in. This time, luck was on your side, a twisted kind of luck, but still one that was to your advantage. You can’t even begin to imagine the horror that he’d feel if he saw you like this.

Undeserving. That’s the only word that comes to mind when you think of Sylus, especially in moments like these.

Sylus, the man who has everything—and if he doesn’t, he simply acquires it. Always composed, always in control. He’s the kind of person who seems to glide through life, untouchable. You can’t imagine him unraveling, not like this. No, if he ever stumbled, he’d just power through it. There are no obstacles he can’t overcome.  

Until you.

You are the only thing he can’t fix. A threat to the pristine world he’s built. Thankfully, he hasn’t seen you like this, and he never will. He can’t.

Your therapist says your way of thinking is the problem. You don’t let him in. You don’t give him a chance to understand. Your therapist doesn’t know Sylus like you do. What if he does understand—but secretly believes you’re too much? And knowing Sylus, what if he doesn’t leave, but worse—stays out of obligation? Out of pity?

Your chest begins to tighten at the thought, your heartbeat picking up. You’d rather disappear completely than let him see you like this.

But before you can spiral any further, the doorbell rings.

[a-hermit-pining]

LaDS Men with a Monster Reader

AN: Guess who was in bed and got up to write this? This dumbass. But seriously love the idea. Why become a monsterfucker when you can make them the ones to do it? POV me, coming up with my own myths because I can't afford LaDS 😭

Pairing: LaDS boys x gn monster reader

Ingredients: 65% angst, 25% tension, 10% comfort ig

My Fav: Zayne and Sylus. No questions asked.

Summary: Of all the births and rebirths, this one was unlike the others. There was no gentle calling from beyond, no familiar warmth pulling you into form, only a hiss, sharp and ancient, splitting the stillness. The air was thick with the scent of pine and dew, alive with the pulse of something older than memory. Gleaming golden eyes locked onto theirs, not with recognition, but with chaos barely contained.

Xavier:

He had been fighting, running his sword through wanderers in an unnamed ancient forest, a dance he had grown used to in your absence. He would rather rid himself of them waiting for you. Save all his time for another lifetime with you.

That is, until his sword quivered, striking a rock. A giant rock. He looked up. Staring back at the rock. And it stared back.

Golden eyes, narrowed in rage. A hunched form. A shattering growl.

Yet, his heart thrummed in recognition. Even in this form, he came to know you, at very first sight.

Not quite a wanderer. No, you were different. A form made of the very core of life. Antlers of obsidian, lithe limbs, and fangs glaring at him from your pulled-back lips.

His blade slipped from his fingers, useless now, as your snarl triggered a memory, firelight in a cottage, your laughter. Lifetimes ago. Still you

Xavier stepped back, his hands raised. His eyes lit up. "I mean no harm," he whispered, unwilling to scare you. To spare you from the blooming joy that threatened to unravel him, at your sight.

Rafayel:

Tales of your presence preceded your meeting with him.

A sea serpent, some whispered, while others babbled of a vicious hydra.

He had not expected to find himself in your lair.

The world had not given him any sign of your presence, not until he stood in your empty nest, which held a single scale. His scale. Carefully kept in the safest of your havens.

He knelt down, picking it up, feeling his skin greet a lost part of itself, itching to be reunited. But stronger was the pull to seek you.

Reaching into the ancient parts of himself, Rafayel summoned the power of the Sea God, to seek your whereabouts, to wrestle the sea itself before another got to you.

That is when he hears it, a distant yelp, a confused half-form thought in the tongue of the sea. The sight of a human vessel from your eyes. He feels the faraway sear of fire, and then, rage.

Unrelenting wrath of an invaded home. The complaint of seas themselves in your roar.

Snapping awake, Rafayel rushed. His thoughts half-formed, his emotions riled by yours. His powers rose up to meet you, barely held back by him. He had to resist it. Bring you back to safety. Revenge could wait.

Zayne:

He heard the tinkling laughter in the air surrounding him first. The tenth day of his trek. In the solace of mountains that had pulled him closer since childhood. That took away the memory of lost lifetimes.

Surrounded by bare snowland, his eyes fell upon you. His breath lost to the altitude, and what stood in front of him.

The very form of seduction itself, draped over the tundra, bare. Your eyes lazily traced over him, your lips red and pulled back in a lazy smile. Your eyes, drooped, yet so vibrant.

And nine tails, spread around you, tracing your own curves, making Zayne's eyes follow their every move.

"Come, traveler," you beckon him with your hand. "Let me allow you some warmth." A mischievous glint lit your gaze as it traveled to his backpack.

And Zayne, without resistance, walked. Kneeling in front of you, no better than a reverent worshipper. Had his heart already felt you? Had the mountains held you for him?

Your ice-cold hand traveled up his arm. "Mmm… a mark of Astra," you whispered contemplatively as you assessed him. "How very fun," you grinned, rising him to kiss his lips.

Sylus:

Waking up with horns had to be a sign. He had tried denying it. It was too early. Too soon after your last death. Trapped in the tomb of your last remaining memories, Sylus had been grieving when he felt scales climb up his neck.

He had forgotten that past long ago, of the doomed lifetime of a dragon. Why not? Was the grief to drive him mad?

He sipped the bitter amber in his glass, his fingers moving over a framed photo of you and him.

In the unlit room, he fell asleep in your closet once again.

Dreams of the cave, of treasure, plagued his mind. And then of you. No... it was not... but, "come to me," it hissed. "Come to me," it repeated.

His hands hovered over a scaled back, so familiar. His fingers ran over the hardened skin, as he felt it shiver and settle closer to him. Mate, the word flashed in his mind. Not his thought. No... it was your voice. In his mind.

The word echoed, not in his ears, but through his bones. His spine arched. Horns pulsed. His dragon soul, long buried, stirred awake. He did not know how long it would last. He had to memorize it, until you returned.

"Sylus," it called, full of longing, of knowledge of past, present, and future. "Come to me." A breath ghosted over his neck. "Wake up. Seek me," it admonished in exasperation, nipping at his ear with surprising gentleness.

Just when he dared to look up, Sylus awoke, stumbling and falling out of the closet, his horns slamming against the floor painfully.

A distant snort echoed in his mind.

Caleb:

He sat with his back next to your enclosure. His eyes alert, fixed on the door. There was no other way.

He could not guard you better anywhere but here.

His mind alert to every noise. He would not allow it. Clutched in his palm was a card. A simple admin card with tons of permissions. Tonight, after the meds, he would escape with you. No matter what. His other hand clutched at the syringe hidden in his pocket.

Away from all who held you for your heart. All who made you into this.

Howling, cowering creature of agony and misery.

He could hear the pained gasps of your breath. The latest modification had been worse than any.

Somehow, making the very act of breathing a challenge.

No amount of comfort had worked. No breathing exercise offered you relief.

Alone with him, he could hear your whimpers. Slow, hidden tears of a creature of the lab.

His own eyes full, his head resting against the glass.

This was a punishment. For the past week, where you had, in pain, lunged at one of the scientists. It had not lessened since then.

Days of pain. And nights of pained moans. They did not allow you mercy of death, to escape the form of a monster they bestowed upon you with force. Kept you teetering on the edge, to watch the madness give way to resignation.

To watch life die in the eyes of the one who could not die. It was sick pleasure.

But no more. He had found you. Becoming a guard, one of them, he came to you. "We will leave soon, and pain will go away. I will take away the pain," he turned to look at you. "And I vow to return it to them a thousandfold."

He rested his forehead against the glass, imagining your laugh again. Not this rasping, hunted thing. But of the one who you were, before the needles, before the pain.

[crookedgalaxycandy]

I swear "x reader" fanfic writers save lives. You feel lonely and touch starved? Get some cuddle content! Everything kinda sucks right now? This character want nothing more than to comfort you! And they do requests, FOR FREE?! They are some of the most creative creators I've seen. I always feel better reading yalls content. Makes me feel less alone. And for the people who are like "that's so cringe," you know what's more cringe? Criticising people having harmless fun.

"x reader" author appreciation!

[writer-freak]

Valentines | Lads x gn reader

Characters: Xavier, Sylus, Rafayel, Caleb and Zayne

Warnings: gn reader, fluff lots of it, probably a bit ooc but I had fun writing it, english isn't my first language

A/n: A little sweet Valentines special for the boys. Just something fluffy and cute as that is very much needed after the new cards.

Xavier

You wake up feeling warm, almost too warm, like you're trapped under a heavy weighted blanket. Except this blanket is breathing against your neck, and its arms are wrapped securely around your waist.

The moment you shift, trying to get away from the heat, a strong arm tightens around you, pulling you even closer.

"Don't move," Xavier mumbles, his voice thick with sleep as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. His lips press lazily against your skin, a soft kiss that sends warmth through your chest.

You sigh turning to face him, fingers burying in his messy hair. "Xav, we should at least get out of bed. It's Valentine's Day."

He groans, tightening his hold like a vice. "No. We’re spending the whole day right here." His voice is muffled against your skin, but you can hear the pout. "You can't leave. Ever."

You laugh, trying to wiggle free, but Xavier just hooks a leg over yours, fully caging you in.

"Xavier—"

"Shhh," he cuts you off, nuzzling deeper into you. His breath is warm against your collarbone, and when he speaks, his voice is slow and full of sleep. "Love is about appreciating each other. And I appreciate you best when you’re in my arms, doing absolutely nothing."

Eventually, after much negotiation (and several sleepy, stolen kisses), he begrudgingly lets you go, but only long enough for you to grab snacks. When you return, arms full of chocolates and popcorn, Xavier is already waiting with the blankets pulled back, making it very clear that your only acceptable place is right next to him.

The second you're within reach, he pulls you back into his arms, wrapping around you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. His fingers trace patterns along your arm, absentmindedly playing with the fabric of your shirt.

"You smell good" he murmurs, voice soft as he presses a slow kiss to your shoulder.

"You say that every day."

"Because it's true every day" he says, lips curling into a grin against your skin.

The two of you settle in, cuddling with each other as a movie plays in the background. But Xavier is barely paying attention. His focus is entirely on you, pressing featherlight kisses to your temple, to your cheek, to your jaw, as if he just can't help himself. His arms stay locked around you, warm and secure, fingertips tracing circles against your back.

At some point, you shift, trying to get more comfortable, but he just grumbles and tightens his hold again.

"Stop moving" he whines. "Just relax. I’m trying to absorb your warmth."

"You are my warmth." you tease, and his grip loosens for just a second before he flips the both of you over so he's entirely on top of you, resting his full weight against your body.

"Now I am," he murmurs, pressing a lazy, lingering kiss to your lips.

You laugh against his mouth, curling your arms around his shoulders. "You're ridiculous."

"And you're stuck with me," he says, completely content, as he tucks his face against your neck once more.

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sylus

You wake up to a mountain of gifts. Like, actual mountains.

Your entire living room is filled with flowers, specifically red roses, white lilies, tulips, and some extravagant bouquet that probably costs as much as a small car. The scent is overwhelming, a mix of soft florals and something rich. And in the center of it all sits an oversized teddy bear, at least twice your size, with a heart stitched onto its belly that reads: You’re mine.

You blink. Then blink again.

“Sylus,” you say slowly, turning toward the doorway, where he stands, arms crossed, smug as ever, like a cat who got into the cream. “What. Is. This?”

He smirks, stepping closer. “Valentine’s Day, darling. And I intend to make sure you never forget it.”

You glance around, still processing the sheer absurdity of it all. “I was expecting, like… chocolates. Maybe dinner. Not—” You gesture vaguely at everything surrounding you.

“Oh, there’s chocolate too. And dinner. And a weekend trip. And—”

“Sylus.”

He chuckles, completely remorseless as he pulls you into his arms, his grip warm. “What?” He tilts your chin up, brushing his lips against yours in a slow, teasing kiss. “You deserve to be spoiled.”

You roll your eyes but melt into him anyway, your hands resting against his chest. Because, really, who are you to argue with this level of dedication?

After a few moments, you pull back, shaking your head with a small laugh. “You’re insane.”

“Rich,” he corrects, grinning. “Then insane.”

You nudge him playfully before sighing. “You know… I feel kinda bad. I didn’t really get you anything.”

Sylus blinks, his expression softening though you could still see his amusement, but so genuinely unconcerned that you almost feel silly for even bringing it up. “Sweetheart,” he murmurs, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You don’t need to get me anything.”

You open your mouth to protest, but he’s already moving, reaching behind the couch and pulling out yet another extravagant gift box.

“However,” he continues, handing it to you with a knowing smirk, “if you really want to make me happy…”

You eye the box warily before slowly untying the ribbon. Inside, neatly folded, is a collection of ridiculously expensive clothing, pieces that he has clearly picked out for you, all in colors and styles that he knows you’d look good in. Some elegant, some casual, some dangerously close to being lingerie.

Your face heats up. “Sylus—”

He grins, looking completely pleased with himself. “Try them on for me, darling.”

You huff, closing the box. “So that’s your Valentine’s request?”

He leans in, lips ghosting over your ear. “Well, that—” His voice drops to a husky murmur. “—and maybe a little fashion show. Private, of course.”

You let out an exasperated laugh, swatting his arm. “You really are shameless.”

“And yet, you love me anyway,” he muses, kissing the corner of your mouth before pulling back with a lazy smirk. “Now, go on. Indulge me.”

Rafayel

From the moment you wake up, Rafayel has you trapped. His arm is slung over your waist, his grip ironclad, and the second you so much as shift, he stirs.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep.

“Bathroom?”

“Denied.” He rolls on top of you, effectively pinning you beneath his weight. His smirk is slow, lazy, but the possessiveness in his eyes is unmistakable. “Today, you’re mine. No distractions. No escaping.”

You arch a brow. “Possessive much?”

“Yes.” No hesitation.

After finally earning your freedom (and only because he allows it), you return from the bathroom to find him holding up a set of matching couple’s shirts.

His reads: I stole their heart. Yours says: I let them.

You burst out laughing. “Oh, we are definitely wearing these in public.”

He smirks. “Damn right we are.”

And sure enough, when you step out together, Rafayel wears the shirt like it’s a fashion statement, head held high. He walks close, so close that your arms brush with every step, his hand finding yours every few minutes just to intertwine your fingers. Anytime someone so much as glances at you, he casually pulls you closer, making sure the message is clear: you belong to him.

Dinner is at a restaurant that’s just fancy enough for the occasion but still relaxed enough for you both to enjoy yourselves. You’re halfway through teasing him about his choice of wine when the waiter, poor, oblivious soul, glances between the two of you and asks, “Special occasion?”

Rafayel doesn’t even blink. “Yeah.” He laces his fingers with yours on the table, thumb grazing over your knuckles. “We’re celebrating how ridiculously in love they are with me.”

You nearly choke on your drink. “Excuse me—”

“It’s tragic, really,” he continues, eyes gleaming with mischief. “They’re completely obsessed.”

The waiter chuckles, obviously assuming it’s a joke, but you shoot Rafayel a look. “You wish I was that obsessed with you.”

He leans in, resting his chin on his hand, eyes burning into yours. “Aren’t you?”

And just like that, your whole cheeks feels warm. You roll your eyes to cover the effect he has on you, but he sees right through it. Smug, he reaches across the table, catching your wrist and pressing a kiss to your pulse point. “Yeah,” he murmurs, “I thought so.”

After dinner, Rafayel insists on keeping you close, whether it’s slinging an arm over your shoulder or tugging you into his side. By the time you make it home, he stretches, tossing his jacket aside and giving you a satisfied look.

“Admit it,” he says, stepping closer. “You loved wearing the couple’s shirts.”

You scoff. “I tolerated it.”

He hums, unconvinced. “You love being mine.”

You don’t answer, not with words, at least. Instead, you grab the front of his shirt, tugging him into a deep, lingering kiss. He smiles against your lips before backing you toward the couch, his grip firm around your waist.

“See?” he whispers, breath fanning over your skin. “Obsessed.”

You roll your eyes but don’t deny it. And Rafayel? He looks far too pleased with himself.

Caleb

The kitchen is a disaster. Flour all over the countertops, chocolate smeared on Caleb’s cheek, and the two of you standing over a cake that looks… questionable at best.

“Okay, so maybe I eyeballed the measurements” Caleb admits, laughing as he rubs the back of his neck.

You snort, crossing your arms. “Eyeballed? Caleb, this cake is tilting.”

He grabs a spoon, scooping up a bit of frosting. “Taste test?”

You roll your eyes but lean forward, letting him feed you a bite. It’s… actually not bad.

“See?” He grins, licking some frosting off his own thumb. “We make a good team.”

You hum, stepping closer. “Messy, but yeah.”

A playful shimmer in his eyes before he suddenly swipes frosting onto your nose.

“Caleb!”

He laughs, but before he can dodge, you retaliate, smearing chocolate across his cheek.

It quickly turns into a full-blown food fight, ending with both of you breathless, sticky, and somehow still covered in flour.

Finally, when the cake is somewhat presentable, you exchange slices as gifts, messy, homemade, and perfect in its own personal way.

You take a bite, sighing contentedly, when Caleb suddenly tilts his head, eyes narrowing slightly.

“You’ve got something…” His voice is casual, but there’s something mischievous in the way he steps closer.

“Huh?” You barely have time to react before he leans in, his hand cupping your jaw as he licks a smudge of chocolate from the corner of your lips.

Your breath catches.

Caleb pulls back slightly, his lips hovering close to yours, his eyes dark with amusement. “You taste like chocolate,” he murmurs, voice softer now, more teasing.

You blink up at him, heart racing, before smirking. “Oh yeah? Want another taste?”

His grin turns almost boyish right before he kisses you, slow and sweet, the warmth of his lips making you forget all about the mess surrounding you.

When he finally pulls away, he chuckles, rubbing his thumb along your cheek. “Best Valentine’s treat ever.”

You roll your eyes, nudging him playfully. “You are such a cliché.”

“And you love it.”

You don’t argue. Because, well… he’s not wrong.

Zayne

The drive into the mountains is quiet, peaceful, just the low hum of the engine and the occasional flicker of headlights reflecting off the snow-covered trees. Zayne’s hands are steady on the wheel, his eyes focused on the roads ahead, but every so often, you catch him sneaking glances at you.

“You’re staring,” you tease, looking over at him.

His lips twitch slightly. “Just making sure you’re warm.”

You roll your eyes, tugging the blanket he packed for you closer. “I’m fine, Zayne. You’re the one driving through a blizzard.”

He chuckles under his breath. “I’ve handled worse.”

By the time you arrive at the secluded cabin, the sky is painted with soft pinks and deep purples, the last remnants of daylight disappearing behind the mountains. The place is perfect, cozy, intimate, a fire already crackling in the hearth.

Zayne didn't want to do a big flashy gesture. But he does always think ahead, making sure everything is set up so you don’t have to lift a finger. He guides you inside with a hand at the small of your back, quietly watching as you take it all in.

“You did all this for me?” you ask, glancing back at him.

He shrugs, but there’s something softer in his expression. “I figured we could use some time away.”

Later, over a candlelit dinner, he slides a small box across the table. It’s simple, unassuming, but the weight of it makes your heart race.

When you open it, you find a delicate pendant inside, a tiny silver snowflake, a symbol which you always say reminds you of him.

“I thought you’d like it,” he says, watching your reaction closely.

You trace the pendant with your fingertips, overwhelmed by how thoughtful it is. “Zayne, it’s perfect.”

He exhales, like he was holding onto something unspoken, then reaches over to clasp it around your neck himself. His fingers linger against your skin before he tilts your chin up, his gaze locking onto yours.

“Good,” he murmurs, brushing a slow, lingering kiss against your lips. “Because I’m not taking you back home until I get at least a dozen more of those reactions.”

Divider by: @cafekitsune

[deuxcherise]

Squish Them! (All)

C/w: Unhealthy behavior, Love and Deepspace, probably a little OOC for all of them, All x Reader, Reader can be MC or not, Reader has different personalities (?) with each LI, suggestive (b-because Xavier and Sylus! (˶˃ ˂˶)/ ), a little Caleb angst (because he… I think he deserves to be pinched… yeah <(≖3≖)> ), implied yandere content, added photos (didn't have two-handed squishing photos so I went with the palm interaction (੭;´-`;)੭♡ ) A/n: So I saw a short from the game Wuthering Waves of Phoebe’s cheeks being squished. So I thought, the LIs in Love and Deepspace are pretty squishable too. Especially Rafayel. Especially him… Squishy fish… hehehe~ Masterlist

💫Xavier💫

Squish~

You gently cupped his cheeks, enjoying the warmth against your palms. It was easy to get access to them, considering he slept for most of the day. It was like taking candy from a baby. A sleeping baby.

“Mm…”

Your grin spread so wide across your face, one might have thought you were having evil thoughts as you pressed his cheeks together. You had only planned on feeling his cheeks against your palm, but with him deep in sleep, wasn’t it okay to get a little greedy?

Squish squish squish.

“Hn?”

Blue eyes fluttered open, having felt his face was being compressed and released over and over. Once he realized it was you, his eyes glittered with sleepy adoration as he reached up and cupped your own cheek. You close your eyes in delight.

And so… you spend some time just squishing each others’ cheeks~

.

.

.

.

.

“Eh? How did you…” you trailed off, having suddenly been placed underneath him.

“Mm, I think I want to squish something else now…”

“Like wh- Oh…” Heat travels up your cheeks when you feel his hands trail downward from your face. “Okay…”

-----🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌-----

☃️Zayne☃️

He had once told you that he was born an adult and therefore could never understand children' s games. And as your childhood friend and physician, you knew that he sort of expected the same maturity from you, considering you were just a few years apart in age.

But maturity be damned!

You were going to squish those cheeks, if that was the last thing you’d do!

“And what are you accomplishing by… doing so?”

You pouted. “It would cure my illness”

“Illness?” He raised an eyebrow. “As your primary physician, I can assure you that you are as healthy as one can be. Aside from your chronic heart condition, that is.”

“But Za- I mean, Dr. Zayne. It’s true! If I am not able to squish your cheeks on time…” You dramatically drape an arm over your eyes, leaning your body against one of the armrests of your chair. “I fear I may turn into dust.”

Behind his glasses, his eyes are focused on some paperwork, though he does spare a quick glance at you in regards to your devastating comment about disintegrating.

“(Y/n), that won’t happen.”

He would never let that happen, not in a million years. Never. Not while he’s still alive and kicking. He’d curse the heavens and take on whatever retribution they’d have for him if they took you away just like that. You have no idea the depth of how he feels for you, but it would be like staring into an abyss… The fact that you would dare even imagine such a thing… Should he-

You double down. “But I can feel it! Just this morning, I looked at my fingers and there was dust! Only you can cure me! Only you!”

Your words sent an arrow straight from Cupid to his heart, but as always, he plucked it out and reinforced the icy wall around it.

“... Are you asking me to diagnose you with Munchausen Syndrome?”

“Munch- Wait, no! Zaaayne. It’ll just take a minute- a second! Just a moment. It’ll be so quick, you won’t feel a thing.”

Well… he supposed, it wouldn’t hurt to indulge you once in a while.

He sighed, resting his glasses on the table. He stood up from his chair and walked around his desk to kneel at your side. With a small smile on his mouth, he gently grabbed your hands before placing this on his cheeks.

“Cured?”

You nodded excitedly, finally having access to the source of your daily physical affection today.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of your hands.

.

.

.

.

.

Squish squish squish.

“I thought you said it’ll only take a second.”

You purse your lips. “This is a chronic disease and I must keep squishing to build resistance.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm. Aaand in return, I’ll give you macarons~”

He hummed. “I see that you have insurance in-network with us. All of your fees for today will be covered.”

“Hehe~”

-----🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌-----

🐡Rafayel🐡

“Please!”

“No!”

“Please!”

“No!”

“Fine!”

The both of you turned away and pouted at each other’s stubbornness.

For you, it was a matter of denial. If one’s cheeks aren’t squishable, then why squishy-shaped? How frustrating!

For him, it was a matter of… well, sometimes people don’t like being squished! Especially a highly esteemed Lemurian such as himself.

“Meow~”

The hairs on the back of Rafayel’s neck shot straight up at the sound of the wicked monster who had somehow infiltrated his studio and he looked, only to find you on your way to pet the thing. “Wha- What are you doing? Don’t go near that… that thing!”

You ignored him, petting your fingers through the cat’s long fur and tail. Once the cat allowed you to pet its face, your heart melted at the sight of the cat purring with its small and chubby cheeks in your fingers. “Hehehe~”

Suddenly the cat ran away just as a shadow appeared over you. You looked up to find Rafayel’s giving you the biggest pout and indignant eyes you have ever seen.

“Here!” he said reluctantly, crouching down to grab your hands. He placed them against his cheeks. “Instead of petting that monster, you should be petting me.”

You contain your laughter at his cute jealousy as you squished his cheeks to your delight~

.

.

.

.

.

Squish squish squish.

“Okay, that’s enough.”

“Noooo!”

“Meow!”

“How did it get back in!?”

“See? If you don’t let me squish them, the cat will keep coming back.”

“Why!?”

-----🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌-----

🐦‍⬛Sylus🐦‍⬛

The leader of the Onychinus was not a man known for being cuddly or soft. No, he was known as a man whose hands were stained with blood, and whose presence always invited chaos. It was not he who thrived in the darkness of the N109 Zone, but rather it was the N109 Zone that thrived under his command.

Just as sharply as he dressed and as dangerous as his usual demeanor in dealing with miscreants, his very angular features didn’t exactly spark your instinct to squish his cheeks. At least, the cheeks on his face.

…..

Not that you’re interested in touching him at all in the first place! His nonchalance and ability to move you as he pleased, like a piece on a chessboard, made you want nothing to do with him, lest he take advantage of you. Again. Like he always does!

…..

Okay, well actually you were curious as to what squishing his cheeks would be like. Would they be as hard as rocks or would they be hollow like balloons? They say curiosity killed the cat, but you’re not a kitten, like how he keeps calling you that for some reason. But if you were supposed to be a type of cat, you would totally be a tigers and tigers can’t be tamed so easily, so you should be alright… right?

“And what exactly are you doing, kitten?”

Your hands kept reaching up with open palms before closing into fists and backing down, over and over as you internally debated whether or not it was wise to satisfy your urge to squish. “Wondering what it would feel like to crush a man’s bones.”

“Is that so? Hm. Any particular man in mind?”

“... Perhaps.”

Sylus chuckles, resting a hand on his hip. “Is it… anyone in this room at the current moment.”

“Hm�� I believe so. Unfortunately, I’m afraid I’m far too kind for my own good. I think I’ll spare his dignity this one time.” You began to turn, planning to head out and rethink this whole ordeal, until a few of his red and black tendrils stopped you in your tracks.

“Hm… Why don’t you look me in the eye and tell me what you want exactly? I can tell you have something that can’t be satisfied easily. At least… by anyone but me.”

You bit your bottom lip as you released a sigh and turned back around to face him. You opened your mouth confidently. “I just wanted to-” You tried to clear your throat, the words having been accidentally caught back there.

Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately?) for you, his right eye saw all of your hidden desires regarding him. While he filed away the more… impure ones for a later time, he decided to address the most immediate one by grabbing your wrists and placing his cheeks in your palms. All with that damn smirk.

You gave in, brushing your thumbs against his smooth skin, envious of whatever his skin routine was. 

Squeeze.

Just like you had assumed, his cheeks weren’t exactly as squishy as yours, but they did have some give. It was mostly muscle though. Totally, not worth the trouble at all! Why did you hesitate in the first place?

After a moment or two, he shifted his face and held the back of your hands to kiss both of your palms.

“That was unnecessary,” you retorted.

“Oh, I beg to differ.”

“... Then beg.”

“Well… Since you asked-”

“Forget it!” you squeaked, snatching back your palms and quickly retreating into the hallway as far as you can.

He didn’t follow luckily. And so, the both of you went back to your own tasks for the day.

.

.

.

.

.

Later that evening, he suddenly appeared and hoisted you up onto his arm, smiling to himself as if he was the cat that got the cream.

“W-what are you doing?” you asked, confused.

He stopped in the middle of the hallway. “Do you not want to…?” he smirked at you with a raised eyebrow.

It took you a moment before heat went up to your cheeks. “Sylus!”

“Well? If you don’t, I’ll put you down right now. But if you do…”

You cover your face with your hands. “... I want to.”

“Hm.” He smiled as he continued down the hallway towards his bedroom.

Gosh darn it!

-----🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌-----

🍎Caleb🍎

“Lemme squish your cheeks!”

Is what you would have said to Caleb, if it was before the explosion incident. However, that was a time you could no longer return to. Not when so much had changed. Not when you knew too much.

You sat on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. Your hands flexed and relaxed as you imagined something soft and malleable underneath them.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

He left you at home again. All alone with just the sound of the clock to accompany you and the vast space of the living room.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

It was safe to say, you were bored more than anything, having nothing to pass the time with.

If you had your phone, you could’ve played some solitaire or one of the new idle games. But no, he took that away, claiming that you could be tracked and robbed without his presence at home. That was fine.

If you were able to access the TV, you probably could’ve watched the cooking channel for new recipes or reruns of old movies, or even the news if they didn’t have any decent channels. But no, he took that away, claiming the reports Skyhaven broadcasted were just full of lies that’ll pollute your fragile mind. That was… okay.

If you could have some knitting needles or perhaps some pencils, pens, and paper, maybe you could’ve entertained yourself with silly arts and crafts or even just writing down your thoughts. But no, he didn’t bother supplying you with such tools in case you decided to harm yourself… It severely irked you, but you suppose you could put up with it. For now.

You looked over at a corner of the room, eyeing the camera there. Then you looked at another corner, finding another camera. Then you thought about the ones in your room, his room, and also the bathroom. No matter where you went, seeing as he made sure it was impossible to leave this house, there would always be a camera watching you. And behind that camera, would be his eyes. You could feel them.

Why couldn’t he let you have your thoughts at least!? Your privacy!? What was wrong with him!? Isn’t this all too extreme!?

He should be punished.

Beep!

Your head jerked towards the front door, before you stood up to greet the colonel who walked in. His purple eyes immediately found yours and a smile bloomed over his frown.

“I’m home.”

“.....”

You ran over to him, claws stretched out. He didn’t stop you, opening his arms for your embrace. When you reached him, your hands found their way to his cheeks and they performed their judgement.

“Owie. Hey, don’t squish so hard, (Y/n)- Ow!”

Indignant, your fingers relentlessly pinched and squished his cheeks until they turned as red as the apples he so enjoyed.

That was all you could do. Any other action, like attempting to wrap your hands around his neck or headbutting him, would have triggered his gravity evol, and you couldn’t bear being locked up in your room again.

“I’m sorry for being late. They had me working overtime. Ow.”

“.....”

“Owie. I’m sorry.” He grabbed your hands and forced them away from his abused cheeks, using his evol for assistance. “Forgive me?”

“.....”

Never.

Even without words, he knew. And like always, he ignored it.

Such is life in Skyhaven.

.

.

.

.

.

“Would you like braised pork tonight?”

“.....”

“Alright, braised pork, it is. Salad?”

“.....”

“Oh, we don’t have any dressi- Ow ow! Okay!”

[siasthoughts]

↳ ❝ [ i missed you. ] ¡! ❞

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ IN RAFAYEL'S LANGUAGE.

CONCEPT; inspired from the in-game feature where you leave them for too long.

TOPICS; gn!reader . yearning rafayel 😞 . begging . kissing . intimacy not smut . suggestive . slight angst?? . idk how to explain

will prolly do sylus next, idk if i can do zayne n xavier idk ab them enough 💀 (only cared ab sylus n raf when i played the game)

⊂⊃ SYLUS VERSION

what does he do now? he's sent you endless messages, emails, even asked thomas to check up on you at your place but you weren't even there! do you hate him? did he do something wrong? was he annoying you too much?

tell me, just please, don't leave me in the dark, not again.

he sighs as he lays on his couch, staring at the canvas that's been left blank ever since it's been hung up. his phone rests on the mess of a coffee table, he's muted everyone but you. hoping that his phone would ping or ring, even just once.

he flinches as his doorbell rings, his hopes rising for just a moment before his shoulders slump once more. he sighs, it's probably just a delivery again. he reluctantly gets up, endless bundles of paper and brushes scattered across his floor as he heads to the door. he takes a deep breath, knowing that it's probably not you, but a small part of him was hoping, just hoping...

he finally opens the door, his eyes slowly making its way up the figure in front of him, widening as it clicks. you. his breath hitches in his throat, and he swears he forgot how to breathe for a second. he huffs, his melodrama begins. he moves to close the door, hoping you'd stop him, and you do.

"rafayel, i'm sorry." you start, placing your hand against the door to stop him from closing it, "i know-"

"glad to see you're alive." he bluntly interrupted, turning away from you as his fingers wrap tight around the door knob, "i don't know if i am though." he scoffs, turning back to you with glazed, teary eyes, his jaw tense.

your eyes widen, "let me in please, raf, let me explain." you plead, your eyes filled with eagerness. you push weakly, and his equally weak hand moves aside to let you have a peek inside at the state of his home.

it was messy before, but now... takeouts were scattered across the tables and floors, paintbrushes untouched and crumpled papers filling the space, "what's the point? it seems like you do fine without me." he murmurs, though despite his words, he opens the door and leans against the frame.

he keeps his head low in a luring effort to hide his tears. you sigh, reaching up for his cheek to wipe the tears beginning to fall quietly, "it's been an entire two months." he speaks barely above a whisper as his voice cracks, "not once did you text, or update me at least." he hisses lowly. "a simple, 'sorry i've been busy.' would've been fine."

"i know, i know..." you respond in defeat, tilting his head up gently to make his eyes meet yours. "but i'm here now, okay?" you reassure, your voice soft and tender.

he leans into your palms, letting your voice soothe his soul, "don't do that again." he murmurs, his voice a mix of threat and nervousness. "no, i won't let you." he continues sternly, breathing in your scent as he wraps his arms around your waist firmly.

you huff, letting him wrap his trembling hands around you, "it's okay, i'm here." you whisper, stroking his hair gently. he groans, kissing the crook of your neck as he pulls you inside, one hand reaching out to shut the door as his pent up need and longing finally spills out of his fingertips and lips.

his body speaks of his need, his movements clumsy and hasty yet filled with intent as he pushes both of you back towards his plush couch. scattered items rested on the sides, and his hands made quick, thoughtless work of sweeping them away, sending them clattering across the floors along with the other things.

"rafayel-" you murmur breathlessly as he greedily marks you with kisses, his lips trailing down the column of your neck as his hands mindlessly roamed your body, not having a designsted destination, only with the simple thought of having to hold you in mind.

"don't leave me, please," he says in between needy kisses, "i can't take it, not again." he mutters, his hips subtly grinding against yours, slowly, wanting to feel every inch of you against him. "you were driving me insane." he hisses, his hands gripping onto your hips as he guided your body, to move it against his.

"not responding..." he huffs, whispering into your ear as his warm breath grazed your skin, reminding you of the slight guilt that came along whenever you thought of him in those busy times, "you know, i couldn't even help myself even when i needed a release." he groans, his arousal growing stiff under his pants.

ah, those times, when he'd want to cum, to just relieve some stress. he couldn't, not without you actually being there. the way he'd helplessly pump into his hand with sweat coating his skin from how desperate he was for some relief...

"i won't let you get away, not this time." he hisses, the grip on your hips tightening, as if you were going to disappear any moment.

𓆩♡𓆪

╰┈➤ END OF PAGE! RETURN HOME?

[yawnzbf]

RAFAYEL AS YOUR BOYFRIEND (TEXTS)

,, rafayel x gn! reader, established relationship, swearing, etc

,, he's such a brat I love him (I think there'll defoo be a part 2)

,,in the first Text sequence, the messages don't get delivered cus the FBI agent is trynna get us laid, evol flipped is love, yes the reader has severe mood swings

[hellinistical]

A little too warm and a little too vulnerable

WC: 614

Warnings: Afab reader.

There were no romantic candles. No roses. There wasn’t even music playing in the background.

Granted, even if either of you had time to plan it, it would have gotten in the way and would have been removed anyway.

***

The water was barely warm if you could even call it that- not that you’d noticed or cared; you’d been in the water for too long at this point, your fingers pruned from the time you’d been in the tub, Rafayel between your legs.

Blooms of purples, reds, and blues adorned both of your skins, your thumb smoothing over a fresh one you placed on Rafayel’s collarbone.

His necklace was cool against your skin, starkly contrasting to the water. His hair, wet, tickled your chin where his head rested on your chest.

Arms around your waist, he laid into your body.

Iridescent scales littered his body randomly. They shimmered blue under the moonlight streaming in from the window.

How long have you been sitting here?

Doesn't matter.

Rafayel’s tail was far too big for the tub; it draped over the porcelain edge of it and rested on the floor.

His breathing was heavy as if he had just run a marathon, but really, he was just hot.

Too hot.

“Rafayel, leaning into me isn't going to make your fever any better.”

“I know.”

“Why don't we get up? We can dry you down, let you cool down till your legs come back-”

“No. I'm comfortable here.”

“Clearly.”

He sighs, planting a quick kiss above your nipple. His index draws invisible lines on your skin, tracing the curves and dips.

“That's a new necklace. Where'd you get it?”

The silver chain wrapped around his neck was indeed new, and on it rested his wedding band.

“Not new, I had it for a while- didn't wanna accidentally lose my ring or get paint on it.”

You hummed, and it was quiet again.

His tail smacks the floor occasionally. You put water on it.

Rafayel looks up suddenly, pushing himself up a little till he's eyes level with you.

“You know you’re important to me, right?”

“Hm? Of course. Why?”

He relaxes a little. “I dunno…”

He avoids your gaze, and you grab his face, making him look at you.

Your lips form a small ‘o’ at what was revealed.

There's tears in his eyes. You watched one form, the droplet building up in his waterline, rolling over his lash line, crystalizing. A pearl drop falls into the tub with a quiet splash.

You both watch it, your gaze returning sooner than his.

“When Lemurians fall in love with someone... All our senses are committed to perceive them without question.” it comes out quiet. You strains to hear it.

“Would you still like me…no matter who I become?”

He grabs your chin, not giving you a chance to answer before he presses into you, his lips pressing against yours desperately. You pull away to catch your breath but Rafayel dips in again.

It’s only till he pulls away, a string of spit connecting your lips, do you react.

Your curious look turns into a frown, and you flick his forehead.

“He-ow! What was that for?”

“Idiot, what do you think it was for? You think anyone would willingly get their bathroom floor wet?”

“No…”

“Question me again like that and you’re sharing your fish’s bowl.”

You grab the towel from the bar, wrapping it around your body as you gets out of the tub. His eyes follow your form, his tongue darting out, licking his lips. Rafayel brings a hand up, wiping his brow as he lays back down in the tub, the water sloshing around him.

Damn.

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

Love and Deepspace Guys w/ an S/O on Sensory Overload (Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne)

I've got a burn out specific one queued for next month, but why not do sensory overload too. because yeah, neurodivergency is a bitch sometimes

Rafayel x gn!reader, Xavier x gn!reader, Zayne x gn!reader

Rafayel

Rafayel, Rafayel. He's the one you want when you're in public

This mf doesn't not give a flying fuck if getting you out of a situation is rude. "You're overwhelmed? Ok lets go home, I don't even want to be here anyway"

I'm not entirely sure how his presence affects the sensory overlaod because he seems like he takes up a lot of energetic space and he also seems to like a lot of attention. I also don't know him as well

But at the same time, as long as you communicate, he'll do his very best to not make things worse

Xavier

There are two great things about Xav

A) he's crazy quiet. The fact that he sleeps so much means that it's pretty easy to be around him even when you're overloaded

And b) he's a walking fairy light maker! I know personally, fairy lights are great for sensory overload and Xavier can just conjure those out of thin air. And he can make them that perfect temperature of light that just hits right

Another benefit is that realistically, he's not an overly social person either so when you're hanging out it's just you guys anyway

If you are in public, however, he's gentle but firm with people to make sure you can go to a safer, more comfortable place

Zayne

Let's be real, you're on sensory overload and he's not guaranteed to even be around to help

That's just the downside to dating Zayne

Buuut when he is around, he's a bit of a halfway point between Raf and Xav.

If you're in public, he has no issues being brisk or downright rude if he has to, but he also has some sense of tact

He's also probably the likely to catch it if you're overloaded and continuing to overload yourself. In that case he tries to redirect your attention elsewhere or help you find something less taxing to because he knows that even if it feels good in a weird way, it's also isn't exactly helping your case any

Something he did though, when he realized that sensory overload was a thing, is he made sure you had a key to his place and that there was a quiet room where you can just decompress

Actually, i think all three do something similar, but Zayne is like "I'm not home that much anyway, use it as much as you want"

I think he takes a lot of comfort in knowing that even if he can't be with you because he takes his responsibilities seriously--which you know and understand--that you have a place to go and that when he gets home, he can make sure you're getting what you need

[we-rice-boi]

✨️You know what I can't stop thinking about? 👯🏽

Now, hear me out: a tall MC (like 6'3") in heels who knows how to use a whip and is performing burlesque (the strip tease kind) for the LADS MLs...

WARNING: MDNI/ Ageless Bios DNI Suggestive content, Poly LADs (slightly), GN reader (despite the example, it's just a rough visual) & Unbated writing!!

Here is a rough sketch of the idea and a few references:

Stay with me here!! Let me cook, PLEASE!!

What I'm thinking is that you, as the MC, play the ringmaster role in the show. You present the dancers and keep the audience entertained in between performances. During this time, you're in a full ringmaster suit (think of the reference at the top right of the picture). It hugs the frame, is shiny, and looks amazing on you. However, it's rather modest compared to the other performers. That is, until it's your turn to perform, and BOOM!!! COSTUME CHANGE!!

(aka the messy sketch above)

The guys are in the audience either sitting together or apart (depends on if you like poly LADS or not) and they have front-row seats to your burlesque performance, that they knew nothing about.

Rafayel 🧜‍♂️

His face is beat red but he can't look away.

Questioning if he's really as dominant as he claims to be (he'll never admit it)

If you interact with him with the whip or anything else, he will definitely jizz in his pants (or almost get to that point).

Bro literally has to try and waddle to the bathroom without getting caught.

"Renowned artist Rafayel seen sporting a stiffy after a sensual performance by Linkon's best hunter? Read all about it on page 9"

If you believe in Poly LADS, Sylus is helping him get to the bathroom while teasing the shit out of him.

He's acting like he doesn't have to go the restroom for the same reason 🙄

If he wants you to take control after that night, don't expect him to ask for it. Oh no no no.

In my opinion, this lil shit will turn the brat up to 100, till you get the memo and jump him.

It doesn't take long since you can read him like a book in the bedroom.

Sylus 🐉

Very much into this

The man already has 20 different whips on his wishlist, ready to be shipped at your say so.

His blush isn't as prominent but it's there and he isn't ashamed of it.

Freak recognize freak

If you interact with him during the performance, he'll try to hide how excited he is with his smugness but you can tell.

That man is vibrating in his seat like a rose toy on a Friday night.

Oh, he's definitely adding a few straps to that list.

And we're not talking about weapons here.

(I think I'm so funny)

By the time you guys get home Sylus already has a new kink sheet written up.

And by the end of the week, they're several new, ahem, 'toys' for you two to experiment with. To experiment on him specifically.

Caleb 🛬

Now I'm still unsure about how to write this man but I know a pathetic man whore when I see one (given he's only a whore for MC but I digress).

Is a lot like Sylus but is just as surprised as Rafayel.

This has got to be the one thing he didn't know about you and that catches him way off guard.

But like I said, the man is not opposed to it.

His imagination is already going wild with all kinds of fantasies.

Lowkey tapping into his inner dog boy.

He is the first to get on his knees and beg. Prove me wrong, you can't!

If you interact with him during the performance, he actively leans into it like a man in a daze.

You can practically see heart eyes on his stupid goofy face. Dumbass is drunk on your presence.

Think of those love scenes in those Loney Tunes cartoons.

My point is the minute you pull away, he nearly falls out of his seat.

And if he's there with any of his academy friends, like Gideon, he's never living that shit down.

If you like Poly Lads, Zayne has to pull that idiot back so he doesn't plant face-first on the floor.

Speaking of the responsible doctor-

Zayne ❄️

In all, he's quite impressed by the show and your part as the showman.

Of course, he shows that in his own stoic, Zayney way. Calm, composed and with his little micro expressions.

Ya, all of that is thrown out the window the minute your strip tease starts.

I saw someone say that they think Zayne's evol gets a little out of control when he's feeling strong emotions and ya, it gets a lil chilly in there.

Like no joke, it starts to snow a little during your performance and you use it to your advantage.

When you're interacting with him during your performance, his ears go beat red.

Zayne isn't sure if he'll pass out from shock or lack of blood flow to his brain first.

While the show is winding down and everyone's giving their applause, Zayne is left wondering how he's gonna get out of here without signaling his "problem" to the entire room.

He's glad he brought a coat today.

Xavier ✨️

Like Caleb, I'm still unsure how to write Our Little Prince but I'll try my best.

To be quite frank, if the situation doesn't involve you, meat, space (or the other MLs) he's falling asleep.

So any performance that doesn't involve you, he's conked out. Either with his head on the table or on Rafayel's shoulder (StarFish supremacy!!).

However, when your performance comes up, he's definitely at attention (in more ways than one)

You know what I said about evols getting out of control because of strong emotion?

Ya if you so much as insinuate anything his way during your act, let alone touch him, Xavi is lighting up like a BTS bobble light (don't @ me ok).

While he's waiting for you after the show, you find him doing some research about BDSM. Specifically submission.

Expect to Dom for the next month.

In all, they're all gettin pegged at the end of the day. Hell, even Zayne is considering it.

Buuut that's all for now. Sorry if my mad rambles are a bit illegible, I just needed to get this idea out 😅

Lemme know if I should continue this idea and write a, kind of, part 2 because I forgot to add how MCs height plays into this 🤔

Oh well~

-Sincerly Professor Boob

N/A: I just did some editing and spell-checks. It still may not be perfect but I don't have a beta reader so we make do o(T◇T o)

Dividers Credits: @cafekitsune Sketch: Me

[leighsartworks216]

Artist to Artist

Rafayel x gn!illustrator!Reader

As a digital artist I think it would be so nice to just body double with Raf. He does his own huge paintings and I just sit on the couch doing my own little drawings

Warnings: fluff, silly, clingy Rafayel, cuddling, teasing

Word Count: 416

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Rafayel's chin lands roughly on your shoulder as he leans over the couch to see what you’re doing. Not enough to hurt (much), but definitely enough to jostle the stylus in your hand. You sigh as you tap the tablet screen to undo the messed up line.

"You couldn't let me finish lining this before bugging me?"

"I thought about it." He leans further over the couch, wrapping his arms around you as he presses his weight onto you. You groan under the pressure. "But bugging you is just too much fun."

You reach back with the stylus to poke his side. He hisses and stops leaning on you. Instead, he comes around to plop directly into your side. You roll your eyes. How are you supposed to draw when he's clinging to you like this?

"You're such a cat."

"Hey! Take that back! How could you ever think to compare me to those monsters?"

You nudge him slightly. He whines, but moves so you can lean back against him, no longer in your way. His arms are back around you, being careful not to accidentally mess up your work by touching your screen. His face is tucked against your neck.

"What're you making anyway?"

You go back to drawing the lineart of your piece. The fluid motions and smooth lines always mesmerize Rafayel. His work is abstract or realistic, color on color being the only barrier between objects. Your work is illustrative, and can range from semi-realistic to cartoony. He'd even seen you remake one of his paintings before, each brushstroke putting into mind the actual physical work, despite only being digital. It was impressive.

You zoom out for a second to show him the full picture. A badass-looking Hunter is facing up against a Wanderer. Your low-opacity sketch layers peek out from behind the black outlines. "I got commissioned to illustrate a children's book. Oh, here, lemme show you what I've got so far."

Your fingers excitedly tap around the screen, leading him eventually to a folder full of drawing after drawing. Some of them are just sketches where you tried to figure out a style. A majority of them are inked already, outlined and ready to be colored. A couple are already colored, but it’s splotchy, just to play around with colors you could present to your client. Even without the story to follow, he can begin to piece together the events of the book, up to the drawing you work on now.

---

Tag List:

@nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko

[totallyxtaurus]

Depollute me, gentle angel pt.2

Summary: Sylus is away on a business trip while you sink deeper into your depressive episode. Pairing: Sylus x gn reader Genre: Angst, some fluff (maybe, hopefully!) Trigger Warnings: depression, mental health struggles, anxiety, self-neglect, and hints of suicide. A/N: I hope this doesn't feel too rushed! I'm still trying to figure out a good pacing of how I should break these up without them being too long or too short. Posted too quickly or not quick enough, so any advice would be very welcomed and appreciated! I hope I did Sylus justice with his responses, I just took what I would want to hear essentially. But, Hozier's Wasteland, Baby! album is so Sylus coded. I got so many ideas for other fics, so stay tuned! And again, please please please take sweet care of yourselves! 💗

Prev

The chime echoes through the apartment, and for a moment there’s nothing. No footsteps, no shuffle of movement inside. Sylus exhales, fingers softly tapping on the doorframe while he waits. He already knows. He had known the moment communication stopped, when his calls went to voicemail, when even the short, tired texts faded into silence. At first, he assumed you were just busy, needing space. But the longer he waited, the clearer it became—if it were up to you, you wouldn’t come back at all. He began doing his own investigation, looking up the traits you portrayed usually compared to these moments of time and he found his answer. So, he started paying attention. Comparing your usual habits to these stretches of absence. Watching for the patterns. Having Mephisto follow you to your therapist’s office had only confirmed what he already suspected.

As advised, he gave you time—three days, exactly. Then the calls began, gentle and steady, each one a quiet pull back to him. Each time, he waited for you to let him in, to say something. But instead, he got excuses. Busy with work. Out with friends. His personal favorite: just sleeping. It’s almost amusing, how you seem to forget he has your location. He always knows where you are. 

Sylus toys with the key in his hand, should he, or shouldn’t he? Would this cross a line? You had given this to him for an emergency, wouldn’t this be considered one? It has been a full week without hearing from you. He never lets it go this long but work held him up so he couldn’t do his usual routine. He continued to ponder the ethics of his decision until he heard it, movement. A sign of life behind the door that still won’t open up for him. That’s it, he decides and inserts the key. 

As the door swings open, a gust of stale air hits him, thick with stillness. His eyes immediately scan the space, searching for the life he just heard. But as he steps inside, it’s clear- the main rooms haven’t been touched in days, especially the kitchen. He moves toward the bedroom when the bathroom door suddenly swings open. 

Both of you freeze, staring at one another in shock. 

For a moment, he just looks at you. Taking in the hollowed eyes, the tangled hair, the way your clothes sit wrong on you—looser in some places, clinging in others— like they were meant to fit differently but now just hang, like an afterthought. His chest tightens—not in disgust, never that— but in a quiet, constrained ache. He swallows it down, he knows letting you see that pain won’t help. Instead, he inhales, careful, and controlled. Just as he opens his mouth to speak, he hears it. 

Get out 

The words reach him, but his mind trips over them, grasping for meaning. 

For a second, all Sylus processes is the sound of your voice—hoarse, unsteady, faint, as if it took all your energy to speak at all. His mind is still trying to catch up, to piece everything together. But that’s when he really sees you. The way you stand there stiffly, eyes shining with unshed tears, flickering to anything that isn't him. As if meeting his gaze would break your resolve. The tension in your jaw, arms crossed tightly over your chest, shoulders hunched forward, as if you’re shielding yourself from him. And then he sees it—fear. Shame. They were there all along, laced with the exhaustion and neglect. Deeply settled, lingering long before he walked in the door. He had been so focused on finding you, making sure you were safe, that he hadn’t realized—you didn’t want to be found. Not like this. 

The tightness in his chest twisting further, a quiet reminder of his mistake. Instead, he exhales in that same rehearsed way.

"Sweetie," he tries again. His voice was low, full of gentleness. Less of a greeting, more of a reassurance. He’s not going anywhere. 

You just shake your head, a silent refusal, as if willing for him to disappear. Your stance is firm, guarded. But Sylus isn't someone who retreats at the first sign of a challenge. Especially not when it's you. 

"I know kitten, I know you don't want me to see you like this. And I know you think that pushing me away will make everything easier for you, for me. But it won't, it hasn't. You don't have to do this alone." 

He sees the tears start to fall, a quiet surrender that he takes as a response. Without hesitation, he continues, his voice softer but unwavering.

Taking a small step forward, slow yet deliberate as he speaks, "Just focus on me for a second, okay? Forget about everything else, it's just us. Can you breathe with me, my love?" As he demonstrates with measured, even breaths. Never forcing, just offering, hoping it will bring your attention back to the present instead of whatever thoughts you're trapped in.

He notices the way your hunched shoulders drop, relaxing slightly, and how your clenched arms finally loosen their grip on your body. He continues to encourage you, taking slow, careful steps closer. 

"You don’t have to do anything big. I’m not here with any expectations. Why don’t we just sit down? We don’t have to talk, I’ll just sit with you, if that’s okay." His voice is soft, low, coaxing. 

Sylus notices the immediate shift in your demeanor as you register his close proximity-the shield coming back as your body goes rigid once again. You close back in on yourself and take a step back. 

You should go. I stink and I'm sure I look horrific; you mutter as your hand comes up to your face to shield it. His heart pangs, but he doesn't let his expression falter. He can't afford to let you see how much it hurts him that you're hiding from him like this. He takes another small step closer, never pushing, just allowing the space between the both of you to remain as it is. He doesn't want to make you feel trapped, but he wants to show you, prove to you, that he's not leaving.

"Kitten," his voice steady and carrying a weight of reassurance deeper than words can convey. "I'm not leaving. If I wanted to, I would. You know I don't do things I don't want to. But I'm here, for however long you want me around. I'm yours." 

You scoff, shaking your head, still refusing to meet his gaze. "Why?" you ask, voice cracking. "Look at me, smell me, Sylus. Jesus Christ I'm disgusting. Why would you want to stay? Are you nuts?" 

"It's been suggested," he cuts in, his tone remaining gentle yet firm. Finally, you look up at him, and the anger in your gaze takes him by surprise but he holds his ground. 

"You just don't get it," you emphasize, your words sharp and full of frustration. "What's there to get?" he wonders but doesn't dare to speak it. "Sweetie," he says tenderly, "if this is you at your worst, then I've suffered far worse than this. You think I haven't smelled, or hit rock bottom before? When I did-or if I do sometime in the future, would you leave me? Would you push me away" 

"Don't be ridiculous," you say, your voice tinged with exasperation. His lips quirk into a soft smirk, his eyes never leaving yours.  

"Can I hold your hand?" he whispers, watching you closely, waiting for your response. You hesitate, then barely nod, just enough for him to catch it. He takes your hand in his, lifting it gently to his lips and pressing a soft kiss on the back of it.  

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches the way your face scrunches up, a grimace of discomfort, but the smile on his lips remains warm and unwavering. 

"How about this," he continues, "I'll make you something small to eat. You don't have to finish it. Just one bite. No pressure."  

You pause, your mind working through his offer. Until, after a moment, your shoulders sag in defeat, and with a sigh, you agree. Your hand still secured in his, he leads you to the kitchen, placing another kiss on the top of your head before turning to the fridge to pull out what little food there is. 

"After we eat, can you shower with me?" The words barely escape your lips, so faint that for a moment he's unsure he heard them. He looks at you, hoping his love for you radiates in his gaze.

"Of course," he replies, his voice steady and sure. "Whatever you want, my dove." He watches as the faintest of smiles flicker across your face, the kind of smile he's willing to wait for, no matter how long it takes. 

Tag list: @withering-dream @madam8 @t4naiis @sunhooniez

[a-hermit-pining]

LaDS Men with an Ace Reader

AN: As an ace girlie, I need this. If OOC pls ignore because I need a world beyond fucking please 😭

Pairing: LaDS boys x gn ace reader

Ingredients: 80% comfort, 15% cuddles, 5% confusion

My Fav: Caleb wins this (damn bro Xavier hasn't made it to this in so long. I feel shame)

Xavier:

He knew. Across lifetimes, watching you from a quiet distance, he had always known your nature.

How your love was whispered in words rather than felt in kisses. How tenderness was measured in presence rather than touch.

So when he meets you again, Xavier is careful. His touches remain light, friendly, never crossing a boundary.

He knows exactly where the line is, and he never pushes. Even when you are unaware of it, Xavier knows your language of love.

And it has failed to dim his heart.

Affection between lovers is not bound to the touch of skin. He loves you beyond the measures of time, so sexual preferences are of little hinderance to this prince.

Rafayel:

Coming from a culture where complimenting someone’s scales is considered a confession, Rafayel is careful with touch.

For Lemurians, such intimacies are sacred. Reserved only for those closest to the heart.

Despite knowing you for so long, he spends even longer getting to know your soul before seeking pleasure. He reads you like ancient tome, never rushing and with immense care.

And when your reaction to his touch is a flinch. When you pull away despite the vulnerability of your gaze, Rafayel does not push. He only draws you into the circle of his arms, resting his chin against your shoulder. Holding you without asking for more.

He is more than willing to love you that way, through the comfort of an innocent embrace. He is afterall the man, who gave you his heart when you couldn't; damning himself and his people.

Zayne:

He struggles. Hides his need. Your conflicting languages of love are not easily translated, and he knows it will take work from both of you.

He will never complain. Zayne never does.

But to him, your touch is the only relief from his curse. The only salve that mends the wounds Astra carved into him. To crave you in the way his body yearns, and to resist it, that is a testament even for him.

But he is willing to learn. To understand the touches that work and the ones that don’t.

And you, you would have to find ways to open up. To be vulnerable without physical intimacy. To let him see all your fractures and let him love you anyway. And allow him the same courtesy.

Sylus:

He will make it work.

King here will do anything and everything. Whether you are sex-indifferent or repulsed, there is no way he’s giving up on you because of that.

He does not need physical touch to enjoy time with you. Cooking dinners together, a kiss here and there, cuddling at times, or even just knowing you love him is enough. He thrives in the quiet steadiness of it.

Does he have needs? Yes. But he’s a big boy who knows how to take care of himself.

He would never make you feel guilty for what you cannot give.

Honestly? He’s probably the best at keeping you comfortable. He knows how to navigate your boundaries better than you do.

He makes you feel safe because Sylus understands that love doesn’t have to mean sacrifice.

Caleb:

He didn’t notice it before.

Hell, he’d acted as your fake boyfriend so many times, how did he miss this?

So when you freeze under his touch, when the realization of Netflix and chill dawns in your widened eyes, his heart drops. He sees the fear beneath the brave front you put on, the quiet surrender to give him what you think he wants.

And he hates it.

Feels sick that he didn’t notice sooner. That he made you feel like you had to endure it to keep him close.

He spends the whole night learning more, asking you questions with the sharp desperation of someone who has to get this right. His hand in yours, his voice low and careful. He needs to understand everything.

Gods, he can’t afford to make you feel that way again. He wouldn't survive it.

Because Caleb doesn’t need that from you. He just needs you.

[notreallysama]

⸸ 𝐰!𝐭𝐡 ☣︎𝐧𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐬

𖤐 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. I haven't written in a long time, wanted to get started on tumblr. criticism appreciated (⸝⸝╸-╺⸝⸝) might make a bonus part for sylus later.

𖤐 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. none, it's sfw, just spoilers up ahead. no use y/n, and reader is gender neutral. a little bit of creative freedom on rafayel's part lol.

𖤐 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭. I couldn't stop thinking about how the boys would react if they saw the way sylus treats you, so...

Out of all three of them, Zayne panics the most. He still has that stoic expression on his face, but he keeps clenching and unclenching his jaw, and he's utterly restless.

His hands shake. It's just a little tremble for anyone else, but for a surgeon? It's pretty serious.

He can't stop his thoughts from spiraling, forming every possibility under the sun about what could go wrong with your heart, depending on what situation could you be facing at the moment. It's quite difficult for him to maintain a clear head.

That is, until he finally finds you.

The moment his eyes catch sight of you, it's easy to push away every thought, other than getting. you. out.

Zayne is quite protective. Seeing the way Sylus... throws you around, tosses you, the way he talks to you like you're a pet, it makes his eyebrows twitch.

He hasn't handled you with care in all his lives, for an arrogant man to treat you with such little respect.

He knows he has to turn a blind eye, focus on getting you out of his hold, on reasoning with him to avoid pointless conflict, but it's so hard when his eyes keep snapping to the way he grips your arm like that.

"Release her. Whatever you are trying to gain, I can arrange it."

"I see you lack common courtesy."

"I was planning to avoid getting blood on my hands, but that doesn't mean I would hesitate, if I need to."

Doesn't talk. Not a word.

He doesn't give his brain a second to breathe, even. He doesn't let himself process the anxiety of you going missing. All he thinks about is plans, plans, plans. Where should he look next? Which part of the N109 Zone should he investigate after that one? Who should he contact to possibly get more information about where you were last seen?

There are very few moments, when he's sitting in his living room, the lights all off except for the little bunny night light, that his mind does wander.

You would be safe now, at home, if he hadn't let you out of his sight.

He blames himself, then, and the guilt is so heart-crushing that he gets up right there and then, and off to the next location.

When he finally catches sight of you, all that leaves his mouth is a breathless whisper of your name, before he rushes.

He doesn't bother with any of the people working for Sylus, not a second glance sent their way as he just dodges the attacks and moves as fast as light, just to get to you.

His eyes are zeroed in on the crimson-eyed man, his lips pressed together in a tight line as his brain works a hundred times faster.

His priority is to get you behind him. To put himself at ease that you're out of that insolent man's reach.

He talks only to you.

"Get behind me."

His expression is unreadable as he's told that there's still no news on your whereabouts, after three entire days.

It would be a lie if he says he didn't know the peaceful days of taking walks on the beach, calling you "Miss Bodyguard" in the most whiney tone possible just to get a reaction out of you, you staying with him while he works on a drawing... it would be a lie if he says he didn't know those days would eventually come to an abrupt halt.

Maybe he just thought he would have more time with you, before fate catches up.

Not that he is planning to say goodbye. Not again.

His manager has never seen a more serious look on his face before, has never heard his voice so... monotone as he calls to say he can't make it to today's event.

He knows where he has to go, he isn't entirely unprepared for this. It has just gotten a little more out of his hands than he'd like to admit. Nothing he can't fix.

But god is he irritated. Irritated at the way that greedy bastard is looking at him, the way he looks like he's barely bothered to protect you from him taking you away.

Whether it's because Sylus underestimates him, or how little he values you, it gets under Rafayel's skin. He's never been a patient man.

Ah, is that blood on his coat? He didn't really pay attention to which one of the freaks working for that jerk he had stabbed in the hallways.

"You don't have to make it harder than it has to be, you know?"

"A deal, with you? Don't make me laugh."