#lads MC x Zayne
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Prelude to a New Tomorrow
(Word count: ~2.6k)
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âIf I were a composerâŠyou would be my Magnum OpusâŠïżœïżœïżœ
(Current: Sylus Archives(Article: I)- 003)
(Previous: Yes� No� Maybe so�-002)
(Storymode control buttons)
(004: -tba-)
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âŠ
âŠ
âŠ
Hmm? Oh itâs my cue? Oh!
Welcome! Welcome to the world of Love and Deepspace where weââŠhmm? Oh? Oh they know it already? Oh wellâŠumm then hi! Skipping through the pleasantriesâŠletâs move forward! Currently we are giving you the exclusive viewpoint of the story from a different characterâŠYour usual narrator is on a break and hence Iâll be taking over.
Before we continue forth, keep in mind that, my job here is just coverage, I donât write anyoneâs stories and neither am I interested in them.
Weâre sorry for the inconveniences causedâŠ.well shall we begin then?
âââââââââââââââ
Sylus QinâŠa man feared amongst the massâŠstanding as one of the most wanted criminals for the Linkon city Police and the Huntersâ Association to get their clutches upon,
a man who held such a huge bounty over his head, it had become a historical record to keep and store maybe even in the museumsâŠYet he held not even a flicker of distress behind his ruby eyesâŠ
And the bounty? Oh please, he could pay four times the amount of that sum any day to any individual.
He was a man of many wonders and mysteriesâŠone that even the cosmos failed to unravel.
He was the writer of his own Destiny. Fate? She could never ever strike the chords of his life and was merely bound to himâŠbound to make him end up with his beloved, in every life that is there for him to come and goâŠ
Soon arrived that one fateful day in his current life, the one which he had eagerly waited on for eons to befallâŠmany months ago, his first meeting with herâŠ
âŠ.
He had returned from a long hiatus, even unknown by his own organisation about his whereaboutsâŠ
she had come to the N109 Zone for investigations to be carried out about himself and OnychinusâŠ
The place which was deemed to be perpetually lawless, the place where even the Huntersâ Association hesitates to peep into, she had comeâŠ
When his eyes met hers for the âfirstâ time, he could strongly conclude that she hadnât changedâŠnot one bitâŠ
âŠ.
She was a Deepspace Hunter now huh? When he saw her,
his breaths yearned for hers,
his touch yearned for hers,
his heart yearned for hersâŠ
his soul yearned for hersâŠ
but he kept his composure, his pride, he had an image to upholdâŠ
His heart had ached, the pain flashed upon his face for a fraction of a nanosecond, disappearing soon after within the depth of his soulâŠwhen the shopkeeper had told him the reason why they couldnât Resonate with their EvolsâŠ
âŠshe was disgusted by himâŠ
âŠ.
Soon after the Auction, heâd let her go, after giving her the answer she came to look forâŠpartially
But did he have any ulterior rational motive? maybe it was to give her time to remember him? To recognise him?
âŠ.
Familiarity began to breach itâs way through within themselves, when heâd first crashed a visit at the Karaoke Bar, sheâd went with her work friendsâŠ
âŠ.âOh my god MC whoâs this hottie?â
âYeah how does he know you~?â
âIs that your boyfriend~?â, came by the fleeting questions once heâd sit at their table, talking to herâŠ
Heâd hear the obvious irritation in her tone, that means he did his job rightâŠ
âŠ.âHi! Iâm Tara, one of MCâs colleagues and good friends! *giggles* she never introduced you to us, who might you be?â, chimed in one from the table. She had short-brown-flowy hair upto her shoulders, and was honestly adorable, even he had to agree to some extent.
âSkyeâyou may call me as her âBestieâââŠ
âŠ.She groaned, her friends laughed, the smirk on his face stayedâŠhe was enjoying it too muchâŠ
They shared a duet.
For her, it was simply a song sung among two people, trying their best to make it mellifluous.
To him, it was an epiphany, a symbolism of the caricature that though space-time were ever changing; she was his forevermoreâŠ
âŠ.
A single meeting turned to two, then three, maybe even four or five, he never kept count, heâd always be overjoyed towards any small update that she pressed onto him of herself. She could talk for days, even weeksâor months, and he would hear her, hear the woman whose voice was the sole form of music to his tone-deaf lifeâŠ
âŠ.
It was a long work day for Onychinusâs boss,
having five business deals to go to,
an auction to attend,
He didnât care about any of the following, but he would have to go, go for the sake of âupliftment of Onychinusâs reputationâ, as some would often termâŠ
As if people were blissfully aware of what Onychinus was, or capable of doingâŠ
An abandoned construction site, at the corner of a narrow lane? It was the same place, most chose and yet they talked of how secretive their working methods were when he could clearly tell.
He scoffed internally, frankly this all was a waste of his time⊠They barely ever knew the basics about business in the N109 Zone, and they had the audacity to approach him. He had never once chosen the same place to meet for work purposes, only mediocrities would make that mistake. He listened to each dealer for a maximum of two seconds, before calling in the other. He knew they all were useless. This was useless.
âŠ.
Upon returning back to his base, he heaves out a tired sighâŠ
he gestures at Luke and Keiran, his trusted henchmen, to take care of the stuff⊠âYes bossman!â. He had enough faith them, he knew they could handle the job properly.
Right nowâŠhe needed some rest, it was a long day.
Even the leader of Onychinus gets tiredâŠ
âŠ
âŠ
âŠ
*ping!*
It was a notification, from the Mephisto app,
Oh. Whoâs Mephisto you ask? Well, Mephisto was his âcompanionââŠIt was the mechanical droneâŠa mechanical drone shaped like a crow to be precise, a product of intricate craftsmanship, engineering and metal... Sylus was proud of him, although he would never admit that out loud.
âŠ
âDestiny Cafe, huh?â
He wondered, having employed his mechanical crow to âkeep tabsâ upon his beloved and her everyday lifeâŠfor âsafety purposesââŠ
Well in short, the mechanical bird nearly followed her every step, where she goes when sheâs free, what she does after leaving work, what condition sheâd be in after a Wanderer fight or some other field mission, does she drink? Who that annoyingly clingy blonde colleague of her is, always falling asleep with his head on her shoulder whenever he gets the chance. Who that overtly handsomeâŠwait no noâŠumm, what he meant wasâŠ
Whoever that overtly boring doctor friend she had at Akso, wasâŠ
Even when she was hired to be a body guard for a certain famous artist, he would roll his eyesâŠ
Was she aware of this? For a long time now.
Did she care? No.
Was it creepy? Maybe.
Would he give a shit? N-a-h.
At least he isnât some old family-friend, the type to secretly, plant a chip onto her and watch her every move, without her consent.
*ping*!
KITTEN đ±
Kitten đ±: I see Mr. Caw Caw just watching me while I try to drink my coffee.
Kitten đ±: If you miss me so much why not just come and visit me.
Kitten đ±: *location sent*
Kitten đ±: Oh and donât be late, you know how particular I am about punctuality.
She was feisty, and he loved every bit of it.
Sylus: Reaching in 20.
âŠ.
That was the first time, he ever went to Destiny CafeâŠhe knew there was a popular cafe in Linkon, but he didnât bother upon learning the nameâŠhe didnât need to, well that is until nowâŠ
âDestiny Cafe huh Kitten? What is so special about this place that draws you in?â
âOkay! First of all the menu and the quality of each product here is heavenly! Plus, I mean look around, the aesthetics, whatâs not to like???â
âNow donât tell me the Skye, has never ever drank coffeeâŠâ
She teased, as she poked at his chest. Such audacity, if it were anyone else, a bullet would go right through their head before they couldâve even adhered upon the thoughtâŠ
âIâve had my fair share of coffee, I need it to function smoothly, besides I hope youâre not forgetting that I sleep during the day and work during the night, I need tonnes of caffeine kitten.â
âOh yeah, sometimes I forgetâŠitâs as if youâre Batman or something.â, he had memorised every little detail about her.
Even simple conversations like such echoed throughout his heart like a loud boom. Every moment with her was a moment, worth living for. She was the sole purpose of his life in this timeline, and every other timeline that was to comeâŠ
âŠ.
His eyes used to wander throughout her entire form, while she talks with her friends, her colleague(s), even her primary care physicianâŠand the artist that hired her as his bodyguard.
The number of people she was acquainted with seemed to know no bounds, perhaps it was all in her charmâŠ
He had always been a keen and observant man, hence the reason he could oh-so minutely tell the differences throughout her personality as she talked to the various people revolving around her in lifeâŠ
Her eyes held lyrical allegories behind them, as if each significant man were a note in the composition that upon uniting with her would result in the formation of a holistic melodyâŠ
His mind would often start to wander at intervalsâŠdid he truly know her?
âŠ
âAn auction?â
âMhm.â
âAnd why do I have to go again?â
âA partner would increase the increase the reputations of Onychinus.â
âAnd since when do you care about that?â
She was rightâŠhe didnâtâŠhe wouldnât even attend them beforeâŠ
But now having been reunited with her again, he had the overwhelming urge to show her offâŠ
It was silly, silly for the leader of Onychinus, one of the most feared, top and respected organisations of the N109 Zone, Sylus Qin to feelâŠsmittenâŠsmitten towards his beloved from his past lifeâŠwho barely even recognised him now.
What would he even form an answer with? He was left speechless. It was a pleasant feelingâŠ
ââŠâ
âItâs not obligatory for you to accompany me kitten.â
His tone wasâŠdisappointed?
She smirked, adding upon the final touch-up to her outfit for the night before she emerged out of her room.
âWho said I wouldnât go?â, she pulled him closer by his dusk wood, strapped tieâŠ
âI have to go, especially when the boss of Onychinus is beingâŠthis submissive~â, she lets go, walking towards her front doorâŠ
She knew she had him in her clutches, and he knew he wouldnât ever dream of escaping even if he couldâŠhe wanted to drown himself within her presenceâŠ
Oh and did he speak of how she looked?
Maybe itâs best that he leaves it within himselfâŠsince no word would be even close to becoming eligible enough to describe how ethereal she looked as the moon shone itâs gleam down upon her, making her glowâŠas if she was one with the cosmosâŠ
âWhat are you staring at? Letâs go.â,
Oh what a mess she had made out of himâŠ
âŠ
âMay I have this dance mâlady?â, he bowed, holding out his palm in front of herâŠ
âI would be a fool to reject an offer from the leader of Onychinus himselfâŠâ, she placed her gloved palm onto hisâŠ
The rhythm was slow, yet familiarâŠtoo familiarâŠas if it felt like homeâŠhome? What was the concept of a âhomeâ? He had never had a home beforeâŠmaybe in Tarus cityâŠbut that never truly felt like home, not until heâd gotten to know herâŠ
She was his home, his identityâŠshe named him âSylusâ, made him the one who stands upon the Earth todayâŠ
The two of them were an amalgamation of one anotherâŠtheir hearts were one, desires were one, souls were oneâŠone with each otherâŠ
his existence held no meaning without herâŠ
She twirled gracefully in his arms, the both of them dancing to the melody breathed down upon them by the universeâŠ
It was specialâŠit was cosmicâŠit was meant to beâŠit was destinedâŠ
They fit in each otherâs arms like two puzzle pieces finally united to complete itâs holistic configurationâŠ
Sylus was devoid of religion, but she was holyâŠand he had to worship herâŠ
His movements, dipped her down, faces merely inches apart as they stared into each otherâs eyes, trying to interpret one anotherâs intentionsâŠ
âŠ
he took the callâŠit was too earlyâŠstillâŠshe needed timeâŠ
âŠ
Strolling along the grass in the park, the drizzles from the water fountain, hitting their faces.
âSee I told you itâs fun!â, she giggled.
He smiled, he always didâŠ
Often times heâd die from the inside all over again, just to tell her about everything and their past, to check if sheâd remember or recallâŠ
âI never disagreed with you kitten.â
He feels like his thoughts donât make sense, as if they ambiguous and scattered all across the placeâŠ
Thoughts? He never used to have thoseâŠhe had them reservedâŠreserved for his belovedâŠand now that she was finally with him, heâll let his feelings flow freeâŠ.
He was like the ebb and flow of the tides, she was his moon, causing the natural phenomena with the pull of her gravitational force of attractionâŠ
âŠ
They sit down on the bench, cotton candies in hands. Strawberry for her, cherry for himâŠ
âWant a taste kitten?â
âDonât mind if I do~â, as she took a big bite out of hisâŠ
He let out a hearty chuckle, the tone filled with nothing but love and devotion.
âŠ.
Her smile widened as she texted on her phoneâŠ
Was he curious? Maybe.
But itâs her privacy and whenever she feels right she would tell himâŠ
âŠ
âOh ZayneâŠâ
âHmm?â
âOh it uhhâŠâ
âYour primary care physician?â
âYeahââ
âI ummâŠI usually as before youâve noticed was used to calling him âDr. ZayneââŠwell I guess I should tell you thisâŠhe and I used to be childhood friends, and weâre catching up, have gottten more closerâŠso first name basisâŠâ
âMhm.â
âIs that okay?â
âWhy wouldnât it be?â
âI just thoughtâŠnevermindâŠâ
âŠ
âŠ.âHe got a new girlfriend! Iâm so happy for himâŠâ
Oh but she wasnât, Sylus was a keen and observant manâŠhe could easily tellâŠ
âŠ
He had envisioned plansâŠtoo many plans and imageries upon how their future would look like, feel likeâŠall up in his head, like record labels, each one with a different genre and taste, yet the base remains constantâŠ
Everything was pitch perfectâŠ
Too perfectâŠ
âŠ.
24/XX/2048(Tuesday)
Kitten đ±: Sorry Sy canât meet up tonight! I am having dinner with Zayne. See you soon, bye! (Read at 2030 hours)
26/XX/2048(Thursday)
Kitten đ±: Hi Sylus! I am so so so sorry I forgot about our meet-up, actually me and Zayneâ (Read at 2240 hours)
31/XX/2048(Tuesday)
Kitten đ±: Sylus I am so so sorryâ (Read at 2100 hours)
13/XX/2048(Friday)
Kitten đ±: Sylusâ
(Read at 0306 hours)
And so many more text messages like this carried on like a string laced with poisonâŠhe began to observe her around himâŠshe wasâŠhappier, livelierâŠnothing seemed forcedâŠit all felt naturalâŠtoo naturalâŠ
The warmth that she held in her eyes, in her soul for him, was differentâŠdifferent from all the others heâs observedâŠit was realâŠit was pureâŠit was rawâŠ
How did he know? He was a keen observer after allâŠ
He stopped sending Mephisto out for herâŠhe felt weirdâŠsomething he couldnât comprehend or explainâŠhe wasnât supposed to feel like thisâŠhe was Sylus Qin, the leader of OnychinusâŠ
Sheâd left him devoid of his logical domainâŠhis cognition failed to provide him with a calculative evaluationâŠ
âŠ
âBossman, are you okay?â, Luke and Keiran askedâŠthey were worriedâŠâultra worriedâ as theyâd often term itâŠtheyâd never seen their boss like thisâŠhe seemed miserable, although he was a master at concealment.
He gave a nod, as he continued cleaning his weapons, checking out his gun in his armory, laptop wide openedâŠ
They looked to each other, then left him aloneâŠ
âŠ.
She was an art piece, and whoever created her⊠must have loved her deeplyâŠbut she wasnât his Magnum OpusâŠ
He saw their love, with his own eyesâŠit was as exquisite as aged-wineâŠas pure as a melody composed form within depths of their soulsâŠit was a melody heard upon by everyone wherever they wentâŠ
but he was tone-deafâŠ
However much he tried to keep himself composed, at the end of the dayâŠ
He was only manâŠcaptured within the green eyes of JealousyâŠ
The Sylus Qin was known to be omniscient, yetâŠhe couldnât decipher out his own belovedâŠ
She was his springâŠthe Persephone to his HadesâŠ
But she never fell prey to the pomegranate seeds, hence she was never bound to himâŠ
It was after all only just an illusionâŠ
âŠ.
Her feet were never meant for to touch the groundâŠher being was too holy to be cradled by the Earth and it impuritiesâŠshe was one with the cosmosâŠ
All she knew was to fly and float highâŠ
He grew tired of itâŠtired off the endless fall that he was fallingâŠhe needed gravityâŠgravity to drag him back down onto the groundâŠ
âââââââââââââââ
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(All credits, TW, Index have been mentioned on the Storymode page.)
#love and deepspace#lads sylus#lads zayne#lads#lads post#lads x mc#lads x non mc#lads xavier#lads rafayel#lads caleb#love and deepspace sylus x mc#love and deepspace Sylus x non! mc reader#lnds x non!mc#lnds x mc#lnds sylus#lnds zayne#lnds#lnds rafayel#lnds xavier#lnds caleb#lads sylus archives#lads Sylus x MC#lads MC x Zayne#love and deepspace fluff to angst#lads x reader#lads slight mention of Hades and Persephone#lads sylus angst#love and deepspace sylus
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Something something about Caleb and underwear
#caleb lads#lnds caleb#love and deepspace caleb#caleb x mc#caleb x reader#caleb x you#lads sylus#lads rafayel#lads xavier#lads zayne#love and deepspace#art#digital art#my art#artwork#fanart#sketch#illustration#procreate#artists on tumblr
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how it started how itâs going
I just know he has been waiting to do that for a long time
#love and deepspace#lads#otome game#lads mc#æäžæ·±ç©ș#sylus qin#qin che#lads sylus#ç§Šćœ»#sylusposting#sylus x you#l&ds sylus#lnds sylus#love and deepspace sylus#sylus#sylus x reader#l&ds#lnds#sylus x mc#lads x reader#lads zayne#l&ds x reader#xavier love and deepspace#lads xavier#otome#love and deep space x reader#dating sim#love and deepspace x reader
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âš Nightly rendezvous âš
Before đ comes home.
Which one is your favourite?
#artists on tumblr#digital art#fanart#artoftheday#love and deepspace#l&ds zayne#lads zayne#rafayel#zayne love and deepspace#lads xavier#lnd zayne#zayne#lnds zayne#zayne x you#dr zayne#zayne x mc#doctor zayne#nightly rendezvous#xavier x mc#xavier love and deepspace#xavier x you#lnds rafayel#l&ds rafayel#rafayel x mc#rafayel love and deepspace#l&ds sylus#lnds sylus#love and deepspace sylus#lads sylus#sylus
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CALEB's Back
#lads caleb#love and deepspace caleb#caleb x mc#caleb x you#caleb x reader#caleb love and deepspace#caleb lads#caleb lnds#lnds caleb#lnds#lads#love and deep space#love and deepspace#caleb smut#lads smut#l&ds#xavier#sylus#zayne#rafayel#Love and Deepspace Ver. 3.0 Special Program Pt. 2#Love and Deepspace Ver. 3.0 Special Program Pt. 1#love and deepspace x gender neutral reader#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace x you#love and deepspace x mc#lads x you#lads x reader#lads x mc#lads x y/n
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Are we seeing this zayne girlies?!
AND THE BUSINESS PROPOSAL SCENE ?!
#b-ibilly#love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#zayne#li shen#zayne icons#dr zayne#l&ds zayne#lads zayne#doctor zayne#zayne x reader#lnds zayne#zayne x mc#zayne x you#zayne smut#lnds#l&ds#l&ds smut#rafayel love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#lads#lads rafayel#lads x reader#otome#otome game#lads mc#lads sylus#sylus x reader#rafayel x reader#lads xavier
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Cuddly wife, happy life.
Zayne was never the type to let others invade his space---but you changed that. Never been the cuddly type at first but you're an exception.
Imagine, he's in a zoom meeting with other doctors to discuss about their important meeting. And when he was instructed to open his cam---his colleagues was met by their head doctor having his wife snuggle against his chest while she sleeps.
His cardigan over your body and you snuggle at his scent. Zayne has a stoic look on his face as he holds you on his arms while you clung to him. His hand gently soothing your hair, careful not to wake you up.
All of his colleagues in the call watches in disbelief and awe---surprised to see the gloomy and serious Dr. Zayne be so soft to his wife. A rare sight.
"Dr. Zayne-"
"Continue your discussion."
They might need to get used of seeing that in a few zoom meetings.
masterlist
#lads#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace zayne#lads zayne#lads x reader#zayne x mc#zayne x reader#zayne#zayne love and deepspace#lnds zayne
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10 Ways You Ruin His Day (and 10 Ways You Ruin His Self-Control)
I originally made this list as character notes for future stories â I love digging deep into their dynamics and really breaking them down. But honestly? I couldnât not share. Would love to hear your thoughts too: what do you think drives them absolutely mad, and what turns them into helpless fluff puddles? đ€
đ Top 10 Things That Make Caleb Absolutely, Irrevocably Mad
1 He doesnât know where you are Even when it makes sense. Even when youâre safe. Even when heâs on the far side of a tunnel with no signal and too much time to think. The silence eats at him, turns every breath into a countdown. By the time heâs back, no one on the base dares talk to him until youâre in his line of sight again.
2 You come home with a bouquet of flowers from another man Itâs not jealousy, really. Itâs⊠fury dressed in olive green. Youâre standing there, smiling, saying some poor man gave you flowers because you saved his life. Great. Fantastic. Calebâs thrilled that his girlfriend is both competent and accidentally irresistible. But now he has to pretend this isnât bothering him while mentally comparing the man's face to strategic punching surfaces.
3 You climb on unstable furniture to reach something You know, nothing fancyâjust a stack of books on top of a chair thatâs on top of a bench. And you? Balancing like a gremlin in fuzzy socks. He walks in and suddenly the war flashbacks begin. You think itâs funny. He thinks itâs a workplace hazard, and you are the HR violation.
4 You rearrange his model planes He adores you. Worships the ground you walk on. Would throw himself in front of an oncoming dropship for you. But if you dust his shelf and dare to reorder his starfighters and aircrafts by vibes instead of model number? He's already rewriting his will. In blood.
5 You do something reckless and then smile about it You say ârelax, I had a plan.â He hears: âI almost died, and Iâd do it again, because Iâm cute and unstoppable.â That smile? That grin you give when you know exactly what you did and youâre proud of it? Thatâs why he needs stress meds. And maybe a punching bag with your face on it. (Lovingly.)
6 You casually mention the girl he used to date You say it with a smirk, like itâs just some harmless teenage memory. But he doesnât see herâhe sees you. You, standing in the doorway that day. You, catching him with her, both of them half-undressed. And you looking at him like something cracked between you. Back then, you were off-limits. You were the girl he wasnât allowed to want. So he wanted someone else. Easier. Safer. And now, years later, you bring it up like itâs nothingâwhile heâs still trying not to remember how badly he wished it had been you.
7 You werenât his first kissâbut worse, he wasnât yours It never comes up. Not out loud. But he remembers. Vividly. The hallway. The way your face lit up. The boy leaning in. You smiling. And Calebâwatching from across the room, fists clenched, jaw tight, playing the role of older brother when his whole body screamed mine. You never talk about it. But he never forgot. Never will. Because that moment shouldâve been hisâand someone else took it first.
8 You walk away during a fight, or shut down emotionally You call it ïżœïżœspace.â He calls it âpsychological warfare.â You shut down. He short-circuits. Nothing drives him more insane than trying to fix something while youâre actively ghosting him across the living room. Heâd rather you screamed. Threw something. Anything. But this quiet? This distance? Thatâs the one thing he doesnât know how to fight.
9 You cryâespecially if itâs because of him And then heâs done. Game over. His spine straightens like heâs under military command and his entire soul just went through the paper shredder. You cry, and suddenly heâs the villain. You say âitâs not your fault,â but that doesnât matter. Heâs already rewriting the past and taking full responsibility. And yes, heâll suffer in complete silence. Like a man.
10 You secretly try to uncover what heâs hiding from you You call it curiosity. He calls it a breach of protocol punishable by full emotional lockdown. You think youâre clever. He thinks you just walked into classified territory barefoot, blindfolded, and with a target on your back. You were never supposed to see that side of his world. And now that you have? He doesnât know whether to yell, hold you, or lock you in a room with military-grade firewalls and a blanket.
đ Top 10 Things That Turn Caleb Into a Complete Fluff-Mess
You wearing his dog tags / uniform shirt / flight jacket Instant puddle. No chance. He sees you in his gear and his brain just... shuts off. All he can think is mine mine mine, and he gets this dumb, soft little smirk like heâs trying so hard not to combust.
You falling asleep on himâespecially mid-conversation Youâre curled into his side, mumbling something about dinner plans, and then: silence. He looks down, sees you asleep on his chest, and thatâs it. Whole day ruined. Cancel all missions. Heâs not moving.
You bringing him coffee exactly the way he likes itâwithout asking That quiet, thoughtful act? Hits him right in the soldier-shaped heart. He doesnât even know how to process being taken care of, so he stares at the cup like it just proposed to him.
You absentmindedly touching himâfiddling with his fingers, tracing scars, playing with his hair He pretends he doesnât care. He does. He cares so much he forgets how to breathe. Just turns into a warm, red-eared statue trying not to whimper.
You whispering âI trust youâ or âI feel safe with youâ in a soft moment Core memory unlocked. He stores that one like sacred intel. Will literally whisper it back to himself at 3 AM when heâs lying awake, missing you. It breaks him in the best way.
You clinging to him in your sleep / pulling him closer without waking up Caleb.exe has stopped functioning. He will lie perfectly still for HOURS if it means not disturbing that moment. Bonus points if you mumble his name while doing it.
You defending him when someone questions his methods or past Heâs used to being the shieldânot having someone stand in front of him. The second you raise your voice on his behalf? He falls in love with you all over again. Might even cry. Secretly.
You gently helping him out of his gear after a long day Soft hands on his buckles. A kiss to his shoulder. A low âYouâre home now.â Thatâs how you make a Colonel melt. His fingers twitch like he wants to worship the ground you walk on.
You surprising him with something dumb and heartfelt, like a handmade gift or bad sketch of him He acts gruffâsays âthe hell is this, Pips?ââbut then puts it in his locker or keeps it in his chest pocket for missions like itâs sacred treasure. Because it is.
You calling him âbabyâ / âhandsomeâ / âsweetheartâ when he least expects it He acts like itâs annoying. It is not annoying. It turns him into actual butter. If you do it with a teasing smile? He short-circuits. Might drop something. Might combust. Definitely blushes.
đ©ș Top 10 Things That Make Zayneâs Calm Snap Like a Microsurgical Thread
You ignore his instructions when you're sick You had a fever of 102°F. He left explicit care instructionsâbed rest, fluids, minimal movement. You, sweating and glassy-eyed, decided this was the perfect time to rearrange the furniture. When he came home and found you dragging a bookshelf across the room âbecause the light felt wrong,â he genuinely considered sedating you. Not as punishment. As damage control. For both of you.
You order greasy fast food instead of going somewhere ânutritionally viableâ He offered to cook. You said no. Twenty minutes later, youâre eating fries from a paper bag while half of it spills on his clean table. You grin. He stares. Not angry at the food. Angry because you rejected his precision, then settled for processed chaos.
You leave wet towels on the floor after every shower Heâs not sure when it started. Day three? Day five? But every time he walks into the bathroom and steps into cold, soggy cotton, something in him fractures. You claim you âforget.â He suspects a psychological experiment.
You casually mention spending time with male friends You think itâs harmless. Lunch with Caleb. Training advice from Xavier. You light up when you talk about themâand thatâs the problem. Zayne doesnât say anything. Doesnât raise a brow. But the sudden over-fixation on his email inbox says everything.
You receive a speeding ticket. Forty miles over the limit. You wave it off like itâs a funny little anecdote. He sits in absolute silence, calculating the stopping distance of your car vs. standard reaction time at that speed. You think heâs judging. Heâs actually trying not to scream.
You poke his ass. Specifically, between the cheeks. You call it âaffection.â He calls it âemotional terrorism.â He flinches like heâs been electrocuted, whips around with murder in his eyesâand youâre giggling like a gremlin. Later, you regret nothing, but your thighs may beg to differ.
When you diagnose him with internet psychology Youâve read one book on attachment styles and watched three reels about emotional unavailability. Now youâve decided he has "clinical avoidant tendencies with a hint of fear-based control fixation." He stares at you, deadpan, like he's about to perform your autopsy.
You keep spoiled food in the fridge and expired meds in the cabinet You say âit doesnât smell that badâ or âmaybe it still works.â His eye twitches. His gloves are already on. Heâs not even mad at youâheâs mad at entropy. Youâve become its agent.
You watch reality shows. About infidelity. Willingly. You claim itâs âjust background noise.â But he walks in and hears someone scream âthatâs not even your baby, Kyle!â and your eyes are glued to the screen. His soul briefly leaves his body.
You washed his white lab coat. With your pink unicorn pajamas. Itâs not just the color. Itâs the betrayal. The symbol of his clinical neutrality now smells like bubblegum and looks like cotton candy. You say itâs cute. He looks personally violated by the washing machine.
đ©ș Top 10 Things That Make Zayne Soft Against His Will
You bring him lunch at the hospital He never asks. You just appearâarms full of neatly packed containers, face lit up like this isnât the third double shift heâs worked this week. He complains about the timing. The smell. The disruption. And then eats every bite with frightening focus. You leave. He stares at the empty container like itâs proof someone still believes heâs human.
You quote him back to himself like a philosopher You remember something he said weeks agoâsome throwaway line about time or structure or entropyâand you drop it casually in conversation, like itâs wisdom from an ancient text. He doesnât know how to react. You turned his logic into poetry, and heâll never recover from that.
You wear the little seal keychain he made He didnât think youâd keep it. Let alone turn it into your everyday keychain. But there it isâalways with you, worn smooth from touch. You twirl it absentmindedly while talking to him, never noticing the way his gaze lingers. Never realizing how something so small can hit him so hard.
You put a photo of the two of you on his desk It appears one day. No fanfare. Just⊠there. A moment frozen in light, sitting quietly beside his surgical reports and diagnostic schematics. At first, he moves it to the edge. Then back to center. Now it lives next to his pen. He doesnât talk about it. But itâs the only object on that desk he wipes clean with his bare hand.
His work shirt smells like you You borrowed it that morning, wore it while dancing around the apartment with wet hair and no real purpose. Hours later, when he pulls it on between rounds, the scent hits him like a loaded memory. He short-circuits mid-button. Everything feels warmer than it should.
You leave your phone with him while you shower No password. No hesitation. You toss it into his lap with a breezy âcan you clear out whateverâs making it lag?â and vanish behind steam. He sits there, phone in hand, suddenly trusted with everything. He opens nothing. But the fact that youâd let him? Thatâs the part that shakes him.
You ask for his opinion on minor discomforts A papercut. A weird freckle. A suspicious sneeze. You hold out your hand, utterly serious, asking what he thinks. Itâs laughable. Ridiculous. And it absolutely wrecks him. You could ask a dozen othersâbut you ask him. Like heâs the one who makes things better.
Youâre on top He likes control. Precision. Strategy. But when you climb into his lap, all instinct and fire, hands braced on his chest and lips already partedâhis brain stops cooperating. Thereâs something about you taking the lead that makes him unravel. Quietly. Violently. Completely.
You argue with him about complex theoriesâand mean it You donât just nod. You push back. You challenge. You quote sources he hasnât thought about in years. You spark. You flare. And he watches, fascinated, lips twitching with something dangerously close to pride. No one does this. No one dares. But you? You never flinch.
You whisper âI love youâ in your sleep Itâs not loud. Itâs not even clear. Just a faint breath in the dark, like a dream half-remembered. But he hears it. Every time. And though he never says a word in returnânot while you're sleepingâhis fingers tighten around your waist like he's anchoring himself to the only thing that matters.
đš Top 10 Things That Make Rafayel Absolutely, Irrevocably Annoyed at You
You told him his painting was âniceâ You stood in front of a piece that cost him three sleepless nights, a minor existential crisis, and two broken brushesâand said âNice.â Just like that. No gasp, no poetry, no tears. He aged five years on the spot. Somewhere in the distance, a violin cried for him.
You dragged him to a cat exhibit You thought it would be cute. Enrichment. A bonding experience. Instead, he spent the entire time perched on edge, eyes darting like prey. You said âtheyâre just kittens.â He said nothing. He was too busy making sure none of them came closer than ten feet.
You cleaned his studio You thought you were being helpful. But you moved The Pile. The sacred, unholy, perfectly calibrated mess. Now he canât find his favorite brush, and also heâs deeply offended by how cheerful you looked doing it.
You didnât reply to his messages for over an hour He sent three texts, one meme, and a âthinking of you đâ voice note. You replied 67 minutes later with âsry was showering.â By then, heâd already decided you were breaking up with him, joining a cult, or possibly dead. He had a whole monologue planned. And now youâve ruined it.
You cut your hair He loved your long hair. Adored it. Worshipped it. You showed up with a sharp little bob and said âitâs just hair.â It is not just hair. It is the collapse of a visual era. Heâs still adjusting. And by adjusting, he means mourning with wine.
You made fun of his driving You muttered âtechnically, you were meant to let the tram go firstïżœïżœ He muttered âtechnically, silence is golden.â His driving is instinct. Vibe. Energy. If you didnât want drama, you shouldnât have sat in the passenger seat of a man who parallel parks like heâs in a ballet.
You woke him up too early He went to bed at 4 a.m. because inspiration struck. You woke him at 7:12 like it was nothing, and said âyou have that interview, remember?â He does remember. He also remembers specifically telling you that if he ever falls asleep before sunrise, you are to let him die peacefully, cancel all earthly obligations, and throw his alarm clock into the ocean where it belongs.
You hid your phone screen when a message came in You were probably teasing. Just being playful. But now heâs spiraling. Who was it? Why the secrecy? What do you have to hide? Congratulationsâyouâve just activated his inner opera villain.
You got jealous Which is absurd. Heâs the one who invented possessive affection. But you being jealous? That makes him unreasonably indignant. What do you mean you âdidnât like the way that gallery girl looked at himâ? Of course she looked. But he didnât see her. He saw you.
You burned the bacon You say âitâs fine.â He says itâs charcoal. The entire kitchen smells like culinary war crimes. And now heâll have to burn incense and replant three garden beds to recover emotionally. Who even let you near the stove? Who hurt you? Was it⊠the bacon?
đš Top 10 Ways You Accidentally Turned Rafayel Into a Purring, Love-Drunk Work of Art
You massage his head Heâs mid-rant. Arms crossed. Absolutely furious about the lighting in that gallery. And then your fingers slip into his hairâand just like that, the war is over. His entire body melts like heâs been tranquilized. Heâll deny it later, of course. But the way he leans into your hand? Case closed.
You claim him in public Itâs an art gala. Heâs dressed to ruin people. And then you slip your arm through his, fingers just tight enough to say mine. You smile like a goddess. He pretends heâs unaffected. Inside, heâs writing vows in ten languages and considering printing matching business cards.
You actually listen to his advice He knows he can be dramatic. Unfiltered. Emotionally volatile. But when you sit there, really listening, nodding like his words matterâyou destroy him. Suddenly heâs not the chaos. Heâs the compass. And that? Thatâs love.
You share every detail of your day over dinner You talk about everythingâthe lady at the store, the funny email, the awful latte. You give him your day like a story, like heâs the only one you wanted to tell. He leans in, listens too closely, files away each emotion like a collector of rare art.
Youâre always down for his wildest ideas Itâs 3 a.m. He wants to hike 2.5 miles along the beach, take a boat to a tiny island, and watch the sunrise with wine. You say âgive me five minutes.â And just like that, you become the only person worthy of his wildest, most beautiful chaos.
You let him photograph you Nothing compares. Not awards. Not praise. Nothing rivals the moment you look into his lensâbare, unfiltered, unashamed. Especially when youâre nude, glowing, and laughing like the world doesnât exist. Thatâs when he falls in love with you all over again. And again. And again.
You let him choose your dress You come out in the one he picked. Elegant. Perfect. You spin for him. And the way he watches you? Like he made you. Like youâre the gallery and heâs the only one with the key. Itâs not fashion. Itâs trust. And he adores you for it.
You sing when you donât know heâs home Wearing socks and earbuds, dancing with a broom, serenading your way through burnt pancakes. Youâre off-key. Glorious. Real. And he stands in the doorway, silent, just watching. Because in that momentâyouâre not posing. And heâs never loved you more.
You take care of him when heâs sick He has a fever of 99°F and insists heâs fading. You bring tea, stroke his hair, whisper that heâs âvery brave.â You donât mock him. You take his dramatics seriously. He will never forget it. He may also write you into his will.
You join him in the bathtub without asking Heâs already halfway submerged, music playing, steam curling in the airâand then you slip in behind him, no warning. You nudge your legs around his hips, hand him your shampoo, and let him wash your hair while you giggle. He tries to act unimpressed. But when he starts kissing your toes? Yeah. You win.
âš Top 10 Behavioral Anomalies That Triggered Xavierâs Internal Alert System
You break an agreementâeven if it's âjust a small oneâ Itâs not about control. Itâs about structure. You promised. And when you bend the rulesâjust slightlyâhe doesnât react outwardly. No visible shift, no sharp breath. But something behind his eyes goes cold. Because for him, even small deviations mean recalculating everything. And that means risk. To you.
You create drama âjust to get a reactionâ You push. You poke. You escalate. And he gives you⊠nothing. No outburst, no flinch. Just that flat, unreadable stare while he mentally exits the room. He doesnât get angryâhe just shuts off the part of himself that wants to stay.
You refuse his protectionâon principle You call it independence. He calls it a strategic vulnerability wrapped in pride. He wonât argue. Heâll just be one step farther back the next time, quietly cataloging how to stop caring just enough that it wonât kill him if something happens.
You call him coldâespecially when heâs holding himself together for you You see stillness. He feels restraint. You accuse. He remembers what it takes to not become the darker version of himself. If only you knew how much energy it took to stay composed. If only you knew it was for you.
Youâre late Five minutes. Ten. No message. No explanation. And his pulse ticks upwardânot with impatience, but with pure, trained alertness. He starts looking for signs. Traffic reports. Emergency alerts. By the time you arrive, heâs smiling. But itâs the tight kind. The kind that says never again.
You skip training Youâre tired. You had a long day. You say youâll make it up later. He doesnât argue. He just recalculates survival probabilities and mentally adds you to the list of people who might die because they were unprepared. And he will blame himself for letting you get soft.
You pull away from his touch when you're angry Itâs not the rejection. Itâs the meaning behind it. He reaches outâsmall, careful, calculatedâand you shut the door in his face with a single backward step. He doesnât try again. He doesnât ask why. But the space you leave behind? It echoes.
You use a photo of Lumiere as a bookmark You think itâs cute. Maybe even sweet. He sees itâand freezes. Heâs not jealous. Not exactly. But the idea that you might admire that version moreâthe legend, the mask, the sharpnessâit unsettles something deep. Something he canât name.
You secretly believe youâre not good enough for him You never say it out loud. But he sees itâin your deflections, your nervous jokes, the way you doubt his love like itâs a glitch. It doesnât anger him in the usual sense. It justâŠhurts. Because youâre the only one who never had to earn it.
You throw yourself in front of him during a mission Itâs instinct, you say. Split-second decision. You didnât even think. And thatâs the problem. He does. Always. Every variable, every movement, every risk is accounted forâexcept you breaking formation to protect him. You think itâs brave. He sees it as catastrophic miscalculation. Not because you acted without logic. But because you decided his life was worth more than yours. And that? Thatâs the one conclusion he refuses to accept.
âšTop 10 Things That Quietly Break Xavierâs Walls and Leave Him Unreasonably Soft About You
When you start reading the same book heâs readingYou donât announce it. You just show up with the same title, a few chapters behind, and start casually asking questions. He plays it off. But inside? Heâs spiraling. Because thisâthisâis how you speak his language. Silently. Precisely. Together.
When you knock on his door like youâre trying to break it downItâs loud. Impatient. Inappropriate for the hour. But he knows that knock. That rhythm. That you. You need him. Not his solutions. Him. And somehow, that chaos pounding on his door feels more like home than anything else.
When you hug him from behindYou wrap your arms around his torso mid-task, face pressed between his shoulder blades, palms splayed across his chest like youâre anchoring yourself to something ancient and steady. He stills. Every time. Like someone just whispered a secret to his bones. He never asks why. Never moves away. He just tilts his head slightlyâlistening, as if your silence said everything he needed to hear.
When you touch his sword (the actual weapon, calm down)He never lets anyone handle it. Not even for cleaning. But your fingers skim the hilt, gentle, curious, reverent. And somehow⊠itâs okay. Youâre not just touching steel. Youâre touching him. And he lets you.
When you act like a little girlYou scrunch your nose. Say something ridiculous. Blush like you didnât mean to. And he watchesâutterly disarmed. Because he knows exactly what you want. You want him to carry you. Wrap you up. Keep you safe. And he willâwithout hesitation.
When you join him on a morning runYou complain. You lag. You swear this is ânot your vibe.â But you still show up. Same hour. Same route. And when you match his pace for those few precious minutes? He doesnât say itâbut heâs proud. Painfully proud.
When you share your dreamsâand say âweâYouâre rambling. Light spilling from your words. Talking about the future, the maybes, the next steps. But you donât say I. You say we. And that sound? That tiny shift in grammar? It settles deep. Irrevocable. Permanent.
When you make matching braceletsYou say itâs silly. Handmade. Slightly uneven. Thereâs a charm shaped like a rabbit. He never takes it off. Not in combat. Not in sleep. It rests against his wrist like a pressure pointâand grounds him better than anything else.
When you remember his habitsYour shopping list always includes his cinnamon. His brand of shampoo. The exact instant noodles he pretends not to love. You donât make a show of it. You just know. And that knowing? It destroys him in the softest possible way.
When you trust him completely in bedâeven when his darker side surfacesThereâs a momentâquiet, chargedâwhen the softness shifts. He waits. Watches. Braces for resistance. But you donât pull back. You open your hands. Arch into him. Let him take control without fear. That? Thatâs what breaks him. Not the pleasure. The trust.
đ€Top 10 Things That Push Sylus Into Maximum Sarcasm and Mildly Homicidal Disapproval
Your outdated, unreliable weapon Yes, he gets it. Itâs vintage. Itâs âstandard issue.â Itâs approved by the Hunters Association. Congratulations. That wonât matter when it jams and gets you killed. Every time you return one of the sleek, upgraded firearms he hand-delivers like heâs your personal armory concierge, he has to resist asking if you've already made a draft of your death wish. Alphabetically sorted. With floral headers.
You chew gumâand pop it Itâs not the gum. Itâs the snap. The sudden, violent pop of sugary air bubbles that hits his trauma response like a trigger. He knows itâs just a noise. His shoulder still twitches. Heâs this close to reaching into your mouth and extracting the gum like a gentleman. A very sarcastic, deeply annoyed, half-feral gentleman.
You try to shake your tail (him) You use stealth tech. You block your signal. You go dark. Adorable. Youâre forgetting that the very system youâre relying on was developed by his own syndicate. The only person who ever really evades Sylus is Sylus. And maybe the cat that lives under his car. But not you. Never you.
You donât introduce him as your boyfriend to your old classmates You panicked. He gets that. You called him âa friend.â And now heâs deeply committed to the bit. For the next seven days, every time you said anything, he replied with âOf course, as your friendâŠâ in front of waiters, dealers, and one extremely confused ambassador. You only managed to shut it down by hastily posting a photo of you two with the caption âmy boyfriend and the love of my life.â Acceptable recovery. Barely.
You refuse to use his resources His private jet? Untouched. His cars? Collecting dust. His black card? Sitting unused like some kind of insult in your purse. You say youâre âindependent.â He says youâre actively offending his entire lifestyle philosophy. Do you have any idea how disrespectful it is to ignore an entire walk-in wardrobe prepared for you in his estate? Honestly, itâs almost admirable. Almost.
You once smoked a cigarette, and he saw it He didnât say anything. At the time. Just looked at you. Silently. Like someone had drop-kicked a kitten in front of him. Heâs not judging. Heâs just picturing your lungs in an ashtray. And adding another page to your death wish list.
You speak in riddles and expect him to âget itâ You want somethingâtime away, a trip, his attentionâbut instead of asking, you sigh dramatically and murmur, âItâs fine. I guess some people just donât want to escape the city with their girlfriendsâŠâ He blinks. Slow. Dangerous. âWas that a request, a riddle, or an emotional booby trap?â If you want something from him, Kitten, try using nouns and verbs. Not cryptic guilt puzzles.
You suggest another woman would be âperfect for himâ Itâs a joke. Offhand. Barely a breath. But your voice waversâjust slightlyâand that ruins it. He doesnât want her. He doesnât want options. He wants you. And now, thanks to your charming lapse in self-worth, he has to waste the rest of the evening reminding you that this face, this power, this entire empire already belongs to someone. Guess who.
You sneak up on him You never mean to. But somehow, you're always the one person who slips past every alarm, every trained instinct, and ends up whispering behind him when his brain is still in kill mode. It takes everything in him to not react on pure reflex. You think itâs cute. He thinks itâs potentially catastrophic.
You donât believe him when he says heâs fine Yes, heâs bleeding. Yes, his shirt is soaked. But he said âitâs a scratch,â and when he says thatâhe means it. His body heals like a myth. Your worried face? It makes something in him ache. Because the real wound isnât on himâitâs in you, for thinking heâs anything less than unbreakable.
đ€ Top 10 Things That Make Sylus Dangerously Soft for You (And Yes, Heâs Keeping Score)
When you finally spend his money It started with coffee. Small. Harmless. But the alert hit his phone and, for a moment, he genuinely wondered if his card had been stolenâuntil he saw your name. And something in him shifted. Not because of the cost. Please. He could buy the city it was brewed in. No, it was the fact you used it. You. Willingly. Now? Youâre bolderâlittle dresses, shoes, jewelry you donât need. And every time you do, he rewards it like you just proved you understand the assignment: what's his, is already yours.
When you give orders to his men like you're the boss You donât ask. You instruct. Calm, certain, completely in charge. One of his men hesitatesâjust onceâwhile youâre directing them to rescue a terrified kitten stuck in a tree. Sylus doesnât interfere. He just watches, arms crossed, a grin tugging at his mouth as armed professionals scramble to obey you like you're the patron saint of lost animals. Somewhere in his mind, heâs already fitted you for a crown. With tiny cat ears.
When you secretly pet Mephisto The mechanical raven used to drive you insane. Now? Youâre sneaking him treats and absentminded scratches under the jaw. Sylus sees it. Says nothing. But deep down, he knows: if youâve accepted the birdâyouâve accepted all of him. And thatâs lethal. To him.
When you make him a playlist You never explain them. Just send a link and say nothing. But he listensâevery time. Alone. In his car. In the bath. Eyes closed, calculating your every choice like itâs encrypted intel. Each track? A hint. A mood. A coded message from you to him. He doesnât ask for them. He just waits for the next one. And when it arrives, he treats it like gospel.
When you leave a trail of chaos in his car Your hair on the seat. Your gum wrappers in the cup holder. The seat so close to the wheel he practically has to fold in half. And the music? A full-volume love ballad ready to ambush his eardrums at ignition. It's obnoxious. Itâs inconvenient. Itâs perfect. His life, now featuring you.
When you eat from his plate You swore you werenât hungry. You said âno carbs this week.â And now? Youâre stealing fries from his hand and dipping into his steak sauce like itâs your birthright. He doesnât stop you. He just watches you chew with that look that says: mine. forever.
When you talk and talk and talk Something happens. You spiral. Words spill. Thoughts tangle. Youâre not even aware youâre ramblingâbut he is. He listens to everything. Stores it all. Because thereâs something magical about your voice when itâs unfiltered. You donât realize it, but he falls a little harder every time you forget to censor yourself.
When you crawl into his lap while heâs working Heâs in the middle of paperwork. Calculating things. Dangerous things. And suddenlyâyou. Right there. Knees on either side, arms around his neck, like the worldâs most beautiful interruption. He tells himself he needs to finish. But his hands are already on your hips.
When you call and ask for help A jar. A stuck zipper. A ride. It doesnât matter. Youâre a trained hunterâyouâve faced things with claws, fangs, and no name. But you still call him. Because you want him. And that? That wrecks him in ways heâll never admit. Heâs already on his way before you hang up.
When you scream his name right before you come Thereâs a lot heâs proud of. His empire. His power. His record. But nothingânothingâsatisfies him more than the moment your voice breaks open with his name. Like prayer. Like surrender. Like heâs the only thing in your world. Which, of course⊠he is.
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Prescription For Pleasure
Warnings: MDNI, sex, masturbation, medical masturbation, use of vibrators, clit play, piv sex, use of latex gloves, oral (fem receiving), some praise, kinda slow burn A/n: I am not normal about this man in any way. Not really proofread. Please do not use my banners without permission.
Youâre seated in Zayneâs office, trying not to squirm as he sets up your appointment. Although this was now the third time you were seeing him for this regular inspection, it didnât alleviate your nerves the slightest. Each month, according to the Hunterâs Association regulations, every hunter needed to be seen by their primary care physician for 3 consecutive days for their health.
And although the association deemed it a necessity, it was an embarrassing requirement according to you. The Hunterâs Association had done a survey and discovered that many of their employees suffered from high levels of stress because they were isolated and lacked much-needed human contact. To combat this, they made it mandatory to get physical contact by a medical professional every month.
But when all the fancy jargon was pushed aside, all the hunters called it the same thing - medical masturbation. It had become wildly popular amongst both men and women hunters, eagerly marking the days on their calendar for when they could come in. When you heard about the rule, you wished the earth would open up and swallow you whole. You had tried talking to Jenna to insist that you were indeed taking care of yourself in that aspect, thanks to your trusted vibrator, but she had shaken her head no.Â
âWe need documentation. Iâm subject to it, and so is everyone else in my order.â Defeated, youâd walked out of Jennaâs office before remembering another mortifying fact with a jolt. Your primary care physician was Zayne.Â
Your childhood friend, your trusted cardiologist, stoic and calm, who remained reserved during your general checkups, was going to be your medical masturbator. You had almost turned yourself into a ball on the floor, tweaked out at the insanity of it all. Although Zayne was your general physician, you had a separate gynecologist, and apart from asking if youâd had your annual PAP smear, Zayne had left that part of your anatomy unquestioned. It didnât help that you were attracted to him, and sure, if heâd asked you out on a date, you would have been more than happy to let him inspect you all he wanted down there.
But this clinical setting, enforced by your organization was a little too much to bear. Wondering how to tackle this situation, you wander over to Tara who was humming as she made her medical bookings on her phone app. âIsnât this exciting?â she squeals as she sees you. âGod knows the dating pool is thin right now. This is just what I needed!â
Taraâs primary care physician was a woman, and you wondered if that was a pro or a con. On the one hand, dropping your panties for a woman doctor seemed less unnerving than for a man. But if you had a preference for men, would it work against your arousal? You shook your head at your ridiculous musings and focused on talking to Tara. âAre you really that excited about this?â
âYou have no idea!â Tara taps her feet as she talks to you.Â
âAnd youâre ok about having a woman stimulate you?â You probe, trying to gauge Taraâs reaction. Tara giggles and lightly pats your shoulder.Â
âI donât know but the idea is kind of hot. I mean, getting it on in a doctorâs office? Besides if I donât like it, I can change the doctor the next time.â
Her words hit you like a ton of bricks. âYou can change your doctor?â
âFor this yes, the app gives you an option since it involves showing off a lot of intimate areas. You have to be able to trust your doctor right?â
You logged into the app, finding the little button to request a change in doctors, but for some reason, the page kept refreshing and crashing. With a sigh, you decide to get the worst of it over with and call Zayne, hoping he can make the change for you on his end. His voice is cool and professional when he answers your call.
âYes?â
âSo, you must have heard aboutâŠthe new regulation?â you had put forth nervously.
âI am aware of it, yes.âÂ
âWell, for obvious reasons, I would like a different doctor.âÂ
Zayne smoothly says, âOf course. Patient comfort is always first. Do you have a doctor in mind?â
âMaybe my gynecologist? I tried doing it in the app but it keeps crashing.â Thereâs a moment of silence and you can hear Zayneâs fingers tapping away at his keyboard before a low hum leaves his end of the line.
âThere appears to be a problem.â
âProblem?â youâd parrotted back.
âYes. Because so many people are booking appointments at the same time, most of the available doctors are already taken. Including your gynecologist.âÂ
It felt like watching a bird crashing into a window in slow motion, that brief moment of hope that it wouldnât hit the glass shattering in an instant. âOh.â
Thereâs a pause before Zayne delicately says, âIâm sorry but it looks like you will have to make those appointments with me for this month. 3 of them according to the regulation. Hopefully, you can make the change for next month.â His voice sounded slightly apologetic.
âWonât it be weird given that we know each other personally?â The question had fallen from your lips before you could stop yourself.Â
âI promise not to treat you any differently than any of my other patients who are coming in for this inspection. I understand this may be a little unexpected, but I assure you I did a term of gynecology during my internship.â
A tinge of mirth carried over in his voice and you canât help but make a noise of embarrassment. âZayne, please!â His laugh was dry but not unkind, and you canât help but want to hide your face even though he couldnât see you.Â
âDonât worry too much. But I do advise you to make the appointments soon. My schedule is filling up rapidly.â
With those words, heâd disconnected the call and you were left wondering if an unknown god from another planet had cursed your existence.Â
And changing doctors had proven to be more difficult than youâd thought. The entire organization seemed to be having a single thought. They had made appointments in the app almost halfway into the year, essentially blocking you from being able to do anything about your situation. Now on your third month with Zayne, you watch as he checks his notes from your last session, feeling like you want to scamper from the room.
The last two sessions had been incredibly stimulating, your arousal heightened by the fact you were attracted to Zayne. Youâd never considered having someone watch as you touched yourself but found that youâd enjoyed it, at least, when it was him. He had remained professional, but youâd avoided him these last two months, save for when you had to get your monthly cardiac profile. He reads his notes from his computer as he prepares for your session.Â
âPreferred device for stimulation still a vibrator, with a large, rounded, flexible head?â His eyes remain on his screen and youâre grateful for him giving you this smidgen of privacy.Â
âYes.â
âPreference for the doggystyle position still?âÂ
Your face burns. âYes.â
âStill consenting for verbal stimulation?â
You nod your head.
âAnd still consenting for internal vaginal stimulation?â You make a noise of consent, squeezing your thighs together, your panties uncomfortably chafing against your already swollen pussy.Â
âAll right, I have everything I need.â He logs off and removes his lab coat, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his well-corded arms, and your mouth almost waters at the sight of them. Clearing your throat, you shyly reach into your bag and pull out the vibrator in question, which he takes from you and clamps into a stand, adjusting it over the examination table youâd be on. A bottle of lube awaits on the tray next to the table and you swallow as he finishes the setup.Â
âWhenever youâre ready,â he says in that deep voice, and feeling like your fingers are wrapped in thick woolen mittens, you reach behind you to untie the hospital gown youâre wearing, and it falls to the floor with a swoosh, your nipples pebbling under the sudden chill. A small set of sensors were taped to your chest and on the sides of your forehead, essential medical devices to ensure your orgasm was satisfactory. Unperturbed, Zayne gestures to the table and you make your way onto it, letting your feet settle in the stirrups as he settles on a stool between your legs, pulling on latex gloves before gently spreading your folds apart. You stare up at the ceiling as he does his initial checkup.
âLabia look healthy, no signs of trauma or abnormal discharge,â he murmurs, then runs a finger down the edge of the fold that separates your inner and outer lips, causing your core to clench involuntarily. You hold still, knowing very well he saw the action, holding your breath, letting out a little sigh as he lets go.Â
âNormal reaction to stimuli, already semi-aroused,â he says, trashing the gloves and making another note on his computer. He glances over at you, leaning back uncertainly on the table. âYou may begin.â
You swallow, then carefully turn onto your hands and knees, crawling towards the head of the table, grabbing the bottle of lube and squeezing the viscous liquid onto the head of the vibrator, avoiding eye contact as your breasts sway under the motion, nipples painfully hard from anticipation. You could feel Zayneâs gaze but canât bring yourself to look up. Even though this was the third time, it hadnât gotten easier, stripping naked and pleasuring yourself in his office.Â
Once the rounded head of the vibrator is slick, you turn, the chill of the lube against your heated membranes causing more blood to flow into your already engorged nub, and run your moist slit across the surface to spread the liquid onto your slickened folds. Your hand fumbles for the little remote control and with a buzz, the vibrator turns on at the lowest setting. You click the button a few more times until it gets to the speed you liked, then fail to hold back a moan as the sensations pleasurably begin to take hold in your clit.Â
The first time you had done this, nervousness had made you set the vibrator on the highest possible setting hoping to get a quick orgasm and sprint out of the office. Unfortunately, the sensors relayed this information into Zayneâs medical record that your climax had been unsatisfactory, and you had endured being lectured by him with the medical gown loosely draped on your body, your rear open to the cold office air.Â
His tone wasnât unkind but it hadnât helped you feel better either. âIt helps neither of us if you rush this. The whole purpose of this examination is to ensure youâre relaxing. I know itâs embarrassing but if you fail to have a proper orgasm, Iâll have to make you repeat the process until I get data that says otherwise.â
âThe sensors are-â
âThe only way to measure anything. Without involving another person anyway.â
His words had left you gobsmacked and your retort had died in your mouth. After that incident, you had learned. Even with the chagrin of having him watch you, you had learned to take your time and let the feelings build, leading to incredibly savory climaxes that made your body squirm from the aftershocks.Â
Your hips sway, setting up a rhythm to brush your sensitive slit onto the head, letting it vibrate from cunt to clit, the lube aiding the frictionless sliding and making your core drip. Quiet noises of pleasure leave your throat as help yourself, arching your back and changing the curvature of your ass to maximize the sensations, then when the perfect pattern emerges, you let out a keening sigh, and try to remain still, letting the vibrator work its magic.Â
Zayne, who has been quietly observing the computer this entire time, observing the spikes relayed from the sensors, asks, âHave you found your optimal pleasure form?â
âYes,â you gasp, the timbre of his voice sending an arrow of lust into the deepest parts of your clenching core. You knew what was about to come next. The sound of Zayneâs desk chair moving, followed by the snap of latex gloves as he pulled a fresh pair onto those beautiful hands. He approaches the examination table and takes the bottle of lube you had set aside earlier, a wet squelching noise issuing from it as he squeezes it over his gloved hand, gathering the fluid on his index and middle fingers. He leans over to whisper in your ears; the verbal stimulation has begun.
The humiliating reveal that you had a heavy praise kink had come up during your initial session and despite your insistence that it wasnât necessary, Zayne, the ever-diligent worker, had made a note in your profile, and heâd been fulfilling it each time. A tickle of hot breath near your ear, before he murmurs, âAre you enjoying yourself?â
The hum of the vibrator in the background coupled with his voice makes your breath catch in your throat. You nod, knowing you didnât have it in you to form coherent words.Â
âThatâs a good patient. Good patients listen to their doctors you know. And youâre doing a wonderful job.â
Your hips snap back to push your clit against the rubber pad, letting out a whimper of pleasure, the action pushing your ass up higher, revealing your pathetically drooling cunt, fluttering with the dissatisfaction of being unfilled.Â
âAre you ready?â He waits for your consent and you manage a husky, âmm hmâ.
âGood girl. Take a breath.â
You inhale, trying to relax, then let out an uninhibited moan as Dr. Zayne inserts his middle finger into your needy cunt, the ring of muscles offering no resistance to the probing digit. He gently thrusts a few times, before curling the tip of his finger up into the delicate patch of nerves on your upper wall, the smooth come hither motion awakening a new level of pleasure in your body. Your fingers tighten on the edges of the table, sobbing, trying not to scream at the feelings that threatened to explode from you. He keeps up the gentle assault before asking, âAre you ready for another one?â
âYesâŠâ your voice comes out shakily, knowing you desired more than just his fingers, but that you would never get to experience it.Â
âPerfect. So well behaved, taking exactly what I give you.â Zayneâs sensual voice floods your ear before his index pushes into you, the thickness of both his fingers sending you into overdrive. Your walls clench welcomingly around him, inciting an exciting pull of liquid heat in your abdomen, the muscles tensing in anticipation for the exquisite release you knew was about to occur.Â
Feeling your inhibitions abandon you as you are stroked closer to orgasm your self-control slips and his name falls from your lips as he pushes over the edge.
âZayneâŠâ some partially functioning confine in the back of your brain registers what you had just involuntarily purred, but the spasms rocking your core, those gratifying waves of delight flooding your body made it easier to ignore it as your being is reduced to a pliant mess of pleasure. His fingers ease up as the fluttering in your pussy calms down, your clit pulsating weakly as the final vestiges of pleasure are wrung from your body.Â
With a wet noise, his fingers leave your moist hole, the glove coated with your juices and the lubricant. Awareness finally comes crashing around you as you realize what you had uttered in the throes of passion.Â
âIâŠI didnâtâŠI wasnât in controlâŠâ You try to find a way to explain, to let him know you had very little choice in the matter of sobbing his name as you orgasmed, but everything feels flat, almost on the fine line between explaining and insulting.Â
âThereâs no need.â Almost as if heâs read your mind, Zayne matter-of-factly redirects the conversation. âItâs not uncommon to blurt out things during climax. Some people swear, and others call out names. It was a very normal reaction considering I was the one in the room with you.â
He throws the gloves in the trash and goes to check the computer, to ensure the sensors had given him the information he needed before starting the second round of the appointment.
âOh.â You say quietly as he sits at his desk, feeling dejected. Although relieved he wasnât making a big deal out of it, you canât help but feel disappointed with his reaction. Shouldnât a man be flattered when a woman cried out his name when she came? Maybe he really was treating you strictly as a patient. And here you were, pussy exposed and spread after being probed by his dextrous fingers, mooning over him like a high school girl. Perhaps the limit of your relationship with him was in fact, doctor and patient, the childhood friends aspect fading.Â
So there was no romance here at all. You had a crush on him, and he was doing his job. Reality sucks. You sniff and suddenly feel cheap, and get out of the doggystyle position and try to find the hospital gown to preserve some of your modesty. Zayne glances over at your sudden movements.
âAre you cold? I can get you a blanket.â
âIâm fine.â You try to sound normal.Â
âYour records show that you usually rest about 10 minutes before you are ready for the next round. Do you feel like that will be the case this time too?â
You find the gown and drag it up to your chin, covering your body as you lay back on the table. âYeah. Actually a little sooner today maybe. I have somewhere to be.â
âYou canât rush these things. Your body will cum when it wants to. A forced orgasm doesnât promote anything beneficial.â
âWell can we find a way for this to happen quickly and in compliance with the sensors?â Youâre trying not to let your frustration show, the pleasantness of your orgasm fading. âI donât think I have the patience to do two more rounds.â
Zayne listens to you impassively, but those amber eyes flecked with green had an underlying intensity you couldnât place. âYou donât have the patience to do two more rounds?â He gets up and comes over to you. âYou want to just leave then?â He approaches the edge of the table and thereâs tension in his jaw. Perplexed, you look at him, his reaction unexpected.Â
âNo, Iâm sorry, I know I canât leave because of compliance and all that.â
âCompliance,â Zayne mutters under his breath before grasping your chin and forcing you to look at him, a gasp leaving your throat.Â
âYouâre getting frustrated because you have to do this a few times every month while being supervised? Do you have any idea what I have to do before you come in for these sessions?â His voice is a growl and you clam up, shocked by this aggressive display of expression from him.
âEvery month I have to remain professional as you come in, pleasure yourself, and then leave. I have to endure seeing your beautiful body bare in front of me and control all my impulses to touch you, to not overstep my limitations as your doctor. I pleasure myself remembering the noises you make and ensure Iâm well spent before coming in to do your appointments. You sit there, acting like itâs hard for you, but do you have any idea what you do to me?â
One of his knees is on the table, and heâs looming over you making you feel like a tiny animal caught in his fury. âItâs torture, to watch you. Youâre not like the other patients I see. You never have been. Because with you, I always feel like Iâm on the verge of losing control. Do you know how difficult it is to not do things to you that arenât specified on your medical record? To have my fingers so intimately inside you, feel every little drop of pleasure clenching around my fingers, knowing at the end I canât have you to myself? To hear you call my name and know that you only see me as your doctor?âÂ
Your face is a bright shade of red but you canât look away from his face. His teeth are gritted, and when you dare to glance down, you see the noticeable bulge that has formed between his legs. He follows your glance and clicks his tongue, letting go of your chin.Â
âI know I crossed a boundary today. Itâs all right. You can go. Iâll reschedule you with another doctor. I know you didnât want me in the first place.â
Your mind is a blur as you quickly reach out to grab his hand, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. His admission was like a prayer answered, and you werenât going to meek about this. His breath hitches as he feels you pulling at his hand and gives you a look of uncertainty. Your lips part but the words you want to say refuse to come out.Â
âDamn it,â he whispers ferally before his mouth captures yours in a rough kiss. It was wild and demanding, a contrast to the reserved, patient man he usually was. Youâre swept up in the feeling of his mouth on yours, the taste of his tongue, and the softness of his lips. When you break apart, his hand cups your cheek, his eyes searching your face.
âThis isnât just because of the session right?â He asks keenly and you realize what heâs asking you. Heâd been aching for you before this whole stupid policy came into place. The same way youâd been longing for him.Â
âNo, itâs not. I had a crush on you back when you became my doctor to check on my heart condition.â A sigh of relief leaves him before he tenderly presses his forehead to yours, and youâre caught up in the sweetness of the moment.Â
âI just had to be sure.â
Boldly, you raise your head, delighted when he meets you, pulled back into his kiss, your tongues sliding over each other, your fingers tangling into his hair, scratching the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you.Â
You gasp as he breaks the kiss to drag his tongue down the column of your throat, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the heated flesh, your blood humming in your veins as your eyes flutter closed. He pulls away the gown and pulls your perked nipple into his mouth, and you revel in the jolt of pleasure it brings you, each suckle felt in your clit which had already swollen up again in need. His fingers capture your other nipple, softly tweaking and pulling it and drawing little whines of desire from your throat.Â
Your hand finds the junction between his legs and cups the heavy bulge, drawing a groan from him, palming him through his slacks, feeling it grow and tent the fabric under your ministrations. A low guttural sound leaves him and he gets off the table, and you almost protest until you see him dragging the small wheeled stool from earlier towards the table. He settles down on it, looping his arms around the tops of your thighs and pulling you closer to the table's edge until your feet find the stirrups again.Â
âStay open for me darling,â he instructs, his eyes glittering and you shiver as you feel his breath against your swollen folds. You squeak as he pushes your folds apart with his nose, inhaling your scent, his eyes growing dark with lust. âYou smell delicious. I always wondered. Had to stop myself from sniffing my gloves after you climaxed. Not professional you know.âÂ
The musky tang of your pussy fills his senses, and his tongue darts out and dips into your slit, finding the swollen bud and licking it with just the right pressure that makes your toes curl and stars pop into your vision.Â
Your hand rests on his head, tugging his beautiful dark locks, his name falling from your lips without barriers. Your hips rock against him, moaning, then let a sob as his lips suction around your clit. His fingers, free from the gloves at last, probe your entrance, scissoring inside to prepare you for what was to come before they curl up into that gummy patch that he knew too well.Â
The sensations flood you, and the sheer knowledge of knowing you had Zayne touching you this way, unbound by the usual rules was sending you into a frenzy. Incoherent noises leave your mouth, crying out hotly as he teases the orgasm from you, your body shivering from the intensity.Â
He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and takes in your appearance, so soft and satisfied on his table, a dreamy look in your eyes.
âAre you prepared for the after?â he asks, you nod, more than eager to experience him. A sly smile crosses his face before he reaches over into the little chest of drawers by the table and pulls out a condom.Â
âHospitals have free condoms. It would be impractical to not use one when itâs on hand.â He explains seeing your questioning look and stands to undo his pants. You watch curiously as his cock is finally freed, eyes widening as it faces you, so impressive and veiny, standing proudly with a slight curve in its length. His pubes were neatly trimmed at the base, ebony curls visible behind the shaft. As he starts to roll on the condom, you feel your whole body heating up in anticipation.Â
He leans down to kiss you before taking your feet and resting them on his shoulders, his cock at the perfect angle to enter you. As he sinks into your welcoming heat, you let out a sigh of longing, feeling the delicious stretch of muscle as he pushes up inside you, gasping as you feel his full length sheathe itself. As he bottoms out, his eyes close in bliss, hardly daring to believe that after all this time, he is finally getting to fulfill this private dream.Â
Each stroke has him brushing against your gspot and kissing your cervix as he paces himself, feeling the primal urge to take you roughly and selfishly calling at his self-control. A growl leaves his throat as you whimper, straining towards him as the both of you struggle to keep a grip on reality. He feels the seductive way your walls clench around him, hears the soft noises you make, sees your face contort in pleasure with every roll of his hips.Â
âOh you feel so good,â he pants hotly, glasses askew, almost at the tip of his nose as he thrusts. âClenching me so needily. Gonna milk me dry.â
Your response is a shuddering whimper, your back arching greedily to feel all of him, creating the perfect curvature to brush your clit against the base of his erection with each push of his hips. He feels the little bud on his heated skin, your combined fluids dripping onto his shaft, slickening the bundle of nerves with each stroke.Â
âBe a good girl and cum on my cock the way you do on my fingers.â Zayneâs voice is husky as he tries to hold on, damned if he came before you. âI know you want to. I can feel the way your walls are spasming. They always do this pattern before you orgasm.â
The fact that he had memorized this knowledge of you was too much and you let go, your voice filling the room as you climax. Zayneâs hips stutter as he feels you around his length, pussy fluttering so him. His pace quickens, the sound of slapping skin becoming more and more urgent, his balls hitting your ass each time as he chases his orgasm.Â
A shiver passes through his body as it happens and he buries himself in your warmth. You hum in satisfaction as you feel his cock twitch and pulse inside you as he spills his load. He pants, sweat on his forehead as he bends down to kiss you again, carefully lowering your legs which burn from the stretch as they settle on the stirrups.Â
Threading your fingers through his hair, you brush your noses together, smiling shyly at him as he smirks, his eyes closing as he catches his breath.
âCan I see you outside of my office sometime?â he asks and you laugh at the invitation.Â
âAre you asking me out on a date after having sex just once?â you tease as he grips the base of the condom and slides out, your pussy feeling the loss keenly.Â
âI have been wanting to for a while. I was just wondering if I was misreading the signals. But I think I have a solid answer now.â He helps you sit up and cradles your body against his, idly stroking your skin, before gently removing the sensors off your body.Â
âLetâs get dressed,â he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead after a moment of cozy silence, and the both of you hunt down your clothes. As he fixes his tie, Zayne passes by his computer and lets out an amused huff.Â
âSomething funny?â you ask as you button your blouse.
âThe sensors definitely gave enough information to make anyoneâs head spin.â You walk over and snort as you see the window, full of sharp spikes.Â
âWell, at least I am guaranteed you had a good time.â Zayneâs eyes sparkle mischievously as he pulls you in for another kiss.Â
âIâm not changing my doctor,â you reassure him as you pull away. Thereâs amusement in his gaze when he replies.Â
âOh, definitely not. I think if the Hunterâs Association ever sees this record, theyâll heavily advise you to remain with the same healthcare professional.âÂ
© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating support banner by @/ cafekitsune @theimmortalbuns @otomegamesforlife @sweets-kozume @actuallysaiyan
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace zayne#lads#lads zayne#zayne x mc#zayne x reader smut#zayne x reader#zayne smut#zayne imagines#lads zayne x reader#love and deepspace x reader#lads x reader#love and deepspace x you#lads x you#zayne x you#zayne angst#zayne fic#lads smut#lads angst#zayne love and deepspace#love and deepspace smut#l&ds smut#l&ds scenarios#lads scenarios#ncs#ncs scribbles
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How LADS men say âsorryâ
Sylusâ black card works, but Iâd settle with Xavierâs for now.
permission to post from: keiyaa.aa on tiktok!
#love and deepspace#lads xavier#xavier love and deepspace#love and deepspace xavier#xavier x mc#lnds xavier#xavier lads#lads mc#lads sylus#xavier x reader#sylus x you#sylus x mc#l&ds sylus#lnds sylus#sylus x reader#love and deepspace sylus#sylus#lads caleb#love and deepspace caleb#lnds caleb#caleb x mc#lnds rafayel#lads rafayel#rafayel love and deepspace#rafayel x mc#lads zayne#zayne love and deepspace#lnds zayne#dr zayne#l&ds zayne
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đđđđ'đ đđđ đđđđđ đđđđ.á
what happens when you don't use their pet name to call them?
⥠content: zayne/sylus/xavier/rafayel x gn!reader; more dialogue heavy; silly and cute
âââââââââââââââââââââ
ZAYNE âĄ
âCan you help me put this on, Zayne?â
From the reflection in the mirror, you tried not to react at the twist in his brow and the momentary confusion in his eyes. Wordlessly, he moved behind you, fingers taking the necklace out of your hand. With his gaze focused on the task before him, you could see him open his mouth, hesitating to speak.
âDid I do something wrong?â he questioned.
Zayneâs deft hands carefully laid the chain around your neck, centering the pendent between your collarbones.
You plastered on your most innocent expression, despite the twinge of guilt you felt at his question.
âHm? Why do you ask?â
Swiftly, he clasped the ends of the chain together. His eyes flicked towards yours in the mirror.
âYouâre calling me by my first name. I thought pet names were an important step in a relationship for you.â
You nodded. âYes, Zayne, I do think itâs an important step.â
His eyes narrowed at your continual uncharacteristic responses.
Folding his arms, he mused aloud. âIt took you some time to drop the title âdoctorâ for me and to just use my name. After we became official, you were quick to call me âloveâ.â
You fiddled with your necklace, trying to, impossibly, force away the heat from your face.
âSo, either I did something to make you upset, orââhe leaned in close to you, the side of his face almost touching yoursââyouâre playing a trick on me.â
You gave a mock frown. He cocked his head to the side, awaiting your response.
âOkay, okay, it was a prank.â Sighing, you surrendered to his deductions. âI wanted to see how youâd react, but you saw right through me,â you mumbled.
His lips quirked. âIâve known you for long enough to figure these things out.â
Wanting to wipe off the amused look he had on his face, you quickly planted a kiss on his cheek. His face turned into surprise. He chuckled, shaking his head at your triumphant smile.
âThank you for helping me, my love."
SYLUS âĄ
âSylus, could you play that new record you bought?â
You called from the sofa. Standing by the record player, he turned to face you. The offence on his face was unmistakable as he placed his hands on his hips.
âSylus?â he scoffed. âWe both know thatâs not what you call me.â
Your brows furrowed, feigning confusion. âWhat are you talking about? Isnât that your name?â
âSweetie,â he levelled a look of scepticism at you, âthat hasnât been my name for the past month weâve been together.â
âI still donât know what you mean, Sylus.â
He paused. Gears turned in his head trying to unpack what was happening, much like he would do when reading the truthfulness of a dealer during a bargain.
âY/N.â
Youâve never heard your own name being said in such a serious manner. Perhaps you got a taste of your own medicine.
âIâm not particularly fond of lose-lose situations.â The softness in his tone made you feel weak. âYou can tell me if Iâve done something to annoy you. I wonât be angry.â
âNot at all!â you quickly blurted out. Unable to hide it any longer, you confessed. âYou havenât done anything to annoy me. I was just trying to pull a small prank.â
All the tension visibly released from his body. A relieved sigh escaped him. âYou really do play some dangerous games, kitten.â
Playfulness returned to his voice. âNow then, how will you correct your mistake?â
âHoney,â you drawled out each syllable, making it sound as syrupy as the nickname itself, âcould you play that new record you bought now?â
Sylus couldnât help but laugh at your exaggeration. âWhy of course.â
XAVIER âĄ
âXavier, do you want to try this?â
Subtly glancing at his reaction from the kitchen, you saw his face immediately fall into a pout. The look was fatal, and it took all the willpower you had not to drop the ruse right then and there.
âThatâs not my name,â he answered.
âWhat do you mean?â you chuckled, continuing to put icing on the sugar cookies you baked. âOf course it is!â
âNo, itâs not,â he insisted.
Placing his book down, he walked to stand at your side by the counter. You avoided his eye contact, pretending that nothing was amiss.
Resting a hand under his chin, he began to think. âYou usually call me bunny, sweetheart, sunshine, or darling.â
Your jaw dropped in amused shock. âYou remember all the names Iâve called you?â
His mouth twitches. âThere are some more, but⊠they might be a bit embarrassing to say aloud right now.â
That was enough to make you look at him with wide eyes.
âXavier!â Your face turned pink as you slapped his shoulder. There was no force behind the hit, but enough to convey your embarrassment.
âYou did it again. You used the wrong name.â He stuck his bottom lip out.
You gently poked at his cheek, trying to lift the corner of his lip upwards. âCome on, donât be sad darling.â
Immediately, he brightened before you.
âIt was just a joke I saw couples do online. I wanted to see how youâd react.â
He nodded thoughtfully. âAnd was my reaction satisfactory?â
âI think it was,â you smiled at him, "but itâs a shame I didnât film it, it wouldâve made for a good Moments post.â
He shook his head. âBut, the nicknames we use are only for us.â
The finished cookie in your hand had a bite suddenly taken from it as Xavier leaned down to have a taste.
âI donât want anyone else to know.â
RAFAYEL âĄ
âAre you ready to go yet, Rafayel?â
He continued to hum to himself, completely ignoring you. You folded your arms as you watched him busy himself with something trivial. He flung open a random cupboard and inspected what appeared to be an assortment of spare art supplies.
âRafayel,â you called again.
He then turned his attention to the fishbowl in the centre of the room, where a small orange fish darted around.
âReddie, do you hear something?â he asked, gazing so earnestly into the bowl. This fish paused its movement and stared back at his owner.
âRafayel~â you sang his name aloud this time, extending the last syllable.
He gasped, apparently receiving some confirmation from Reddie.
âYou hear something too? Thank god. I was thinking there must be something wrong with my ears.â
Surveying the room around him, Rafayel intentionally looked past you standing barely a few metres from him, tapping your foot against the wooden floorboards of his studio.
âIt sounds likeââhe continuedââsome kind of voice. Someone familiar to me, but I canât make out who it is.â
âRafayel!â you shouted his name between fits of laughter. Only he could respond to your jokes with his own dramatics.
He sucked in a breath in puzzlement. âI wonder who this person is calling out to.â
âBaby,â you finally conceded, âIâm talking to you!â
It seemed like he couldnât keep up the act either, as he started laughing with you.
âTook you long enough,â he huffed, moving towards you and linking your arm with his. âOtherwise, Reddie and I would have been searching for this phantom voice for the rest of the day.â
âââââââââââââââââââââ
#odorawrites#love and deepspace#l&ds#lads#love and deepspace fluff#love and deepspace x reader#l&ds x reader#lads x reader#zayne love and deepspace#xavier love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#zayne x reader#zayne x y/n#zayne x you#xavier x reader#xavier x y/n#xavier x you#rafayel x reader#rafayel x y/n#rafayel x you#sylus x reader#sylus x y/n#sylus x you#sylus x mc#l&ds fluff#zayne fluff#xavier fluff#rafayel fluff#sylus fluff
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Imagine this but with Zayne.
#love and deepspace#lads mc#lads x reader#lads zayne#zayne love and deepspace#zayne x mc#zayne x reader#zayne x you#lnds fluff#lnds fic#lnds zayne#fluff
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Who wouldâve guessed our colonel is a memelord
#lads caleb#caleb x mc#lnds caleb#love and deepspace caleb#caleb x reader#sylus love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#xavier love and deepspace#lads sylus#lads rafayel#lads xavier#lads zayne#love and deepspace#art#digital art#my art#artwork#fanart#sketch#illustration#procreate#artists on tumblr
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How he used to look at MC vs now.
his smile<333
#love and deepspace#lads#otome game#lads mc#sylus x reader#xavier love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#lads rafayel#lads x reader#lads xavier#lads sylus#sylus x you#sylusposting#sylus x mc#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace x reader#love and deep space x reader#lads zayne#sylus qin#zayne x mc#dr zayne#xavier x mc#xavier x reader#zayne x reader#otome
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Which one?
#artists on tumblr#digital art#fanart#artoftheday#love and deepspace#rafayel#rafayel love and deepspace#l&ds rafayel#lnds rafayel#l&ds zayne#lads zayne#zayne love and deepspace#zayne#zayne x mc#rafayel x mc#lnds zayne#xavier x mc#lads xavier#xavier love and deepspace#l&ds sylus#lnds sylus#love and deepspace sylus#lads sylus#sylus x mc
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LADS developers survived the hardest computer college, only to end up coding CALEB.
#lads caleb#love and deepspace caleb#caleb x mc#caleb x you#caleb x reader#caleb love and deepspace#caleb lads#caleb lnds#lnds caleb#lnds#lads#love and deep space#love and deepspace#l&ds#xavier#sylus#zayne#rafayel#Love and Deepspace Ver. 3.0 Special Program Pt. 2#Love and Deepspace Ver. 3.0 Special Program Pt. 1#love and deepspace x gender neutral reader#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace x you#love and deepspace x mc#lads x you#lads x reader#lads x mc#lads x y/n
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