[♡₊˚ ♕: princess!minnie 19teen. afro-latina] — please make yourself at home in my court! if you are in need of assistance, kindly, ask a guard and they can escort you to the navigation! please feel free to look around!
what I won't condone ♡ rules of this blog ♡ meet the princess!
beautiful headers by: @anitalenia
news from the royal court: his eyes are like angels -> alucard tepes . beat the heat -> zayne li . random domestic hcs pt 2!
♡ princessxmin please do not alter, copy or translate my work !
⋆˚꩜.ᐟ : including — cutesy hcs!
[౨ৎ] synopsis: alucard tepes as a lover
[♡₊˚ ♕]: her highness's decree: if it wasn't obvious alr I have a thing for soft spoken intelligent, gentleman-like men.
‧₊˚⇢♡ a gentleman doesn't even begin to describe just how sweet he is to you.
considering Alucard was already well-mannered and more than polite before meeting you, once he falls for you (becoming immediately smitten), he's somehow even more so.
His tone becoming impossibly more gentler when talking to you, opening doors for you, pulling your your chair out for you, positioning himself in front of you at the first hint of trouble (even if you're a fighter/magic wielder).
‧₊˚⇢♡ attentive to every facet of your being.
he's very conscious of himself to ensure he isn't just staring at you but you do make it quite hard not to. Whenever you play with your hair in deep thought, the way your smile always meets your eyes, the way you silently gaze into the distance when you reminisce.
It's all so..mesmerizing—you are mesmerizing.
So while it pains the dhampir to have to tear his eyes away from you at times so as not to make you feel uncomfortableit is very tempting to not want to see every expression your beautiful face makes.
‧₊˚⇢♡ calls you "beloved", "dearest" "flower", and "my love."
Alucard is such a naturally affectionate man once he's in love that pet names become second nature to him. However, it still is so cute how he was slightly hesitant to call you anything initially usually referring to you by name—until it just slipped out.
Your breath catches for a moment, looking up at the blond from your place beside him on one of the library's plush velvet settees.
The castle is quiet around you, save for the occasional crackle from the fireplace and the soft rustle of pages turning. Warm afternoon sunlight filters through the tall windows, painting streaks of gold across the bookshelves and illuminating the dust motes drifting lazily through the air.
You'd spent the better part of the afternoon curled up together.
Your book long forgotten in your lap as you leaned comfortably against his shoulder, your head nestled against him while he read.
It was one of your favorite places to be.
Close enough to hear the steady rhythm of his breathing.
You were tracing absent patterns along the edge of your page when Alucard finally spoke. "Would you like some tea, my love?"
The word leaves his lips so naturally that neither of you seem to process it at first.
Your eyes widened slightly and you could feel Alucard stiffen slightly besides you. His gaze lowering from the book in his hand to where your head is resting on his shoulder. An adorable, light blush creeping on his pale cheeks. "Forgive me," he says quietly, setting his book aside perhaps a little too quickly. "I did not mean to presume."
The bashfulness in his voice is almost unfairly sweet, so you straighten slightly, lifting your head from his shoulder to shake your head with a soft smile. "You didn't. I don't mind you calling me that—it's sweet."
For a moment, Alucard simply looks at you. Golden eyes searching your face as though trying to determine whether you're merely being kind. When he realizes you're sincere, some of the tension leaves his shoulders.
Barely noticeable.
"I'm glad," he says quietly. His voice is softer now, the afternoon sunlight catching against the pale strands of his hair as he looks at you, and you're suddenly struck by how unfairly beautiful he is.
Especially like this.
The realization makes your smile widen slightly. "Can I call you something too?"
His brows lift. "Something?"
You nod.
"You wish to give me a pet name?"
"Well, yes."
You tilt your head. "If you're going to call me things like my love and beloved, I think I should get one too."
A quiet laugh escapes him then. "I suppose that is fair."
‧₊˚⇢♡ guides you with a hand at your back through crowded towns, unfamiliar roads and in more sketchy parts of wood
Whether you're walking through a crowded marketplace, entering a room, or simply moving through the halls of the castle together, Alucard always seems to find his place just slightly behind your shoulder.
One hand resting lightly at the small of your back.
Never possessive. More so a subtle, discreet gesture. One that many don't notice on first glance.
Like no matter where you are, he'll make certain nothing reaches you first.
₊˚⇢♡ is constantly making sure you're comfortable.
Perhaps it's because he's spent so much of his life caring for others, and caring for you is not much different nor a chore. Though it's probably because the sweet way you breathe a 'thank you Adrian,' or 'you're always so kind thank you my love.' Has him quick to whatever you need to hear those lovely again.
If you're cold, a cloak is draped over your shoulders before you can mention it.
If you're tired, he's already suggesting you rest.
If you're hungry, he's quietly finding a source of food for you.
Half the time, you don't even realize something was bothering you until he's already taken care of it.
And when you thank so softly like the angel you are?
He simply smiles.
‧₊˚⇢♡ always reaches for you in his sleep.
Alucard sleeps lightly by nature. Years of solitude and danger made certain of that. Yet slowly but surely, after sharing a bed with you, over time it's been increasingly easier to sleep soundly next to you.
Primarily because you fall asleep holding his hand.
You always knew that he carried a weight most people could scarcely imagine. The loss of his parents. His complicated love for his father. The loneliness. The years spent wandering with burdens that were never truly his to carry.
You knew there were nights his sleep wasn't peaceful.
So when you'd first begun sharing a bed, you'd made a habit of reaching for his hand before falling asleep. Not because you were afraid to sleep alone. But because you never wanted him to face even his nightmares alone ever again.
The first time you'd done it, he'd looked almost comforted yet confused. Glancing down at your intertwined fingers before looking back at you. Yet he hadn't pulled away.
And after that, it simply became part of your routine.
Until one evening, months later, as candlelight flickered softly across your shared chambers, Alucard spoke just as you were settling beneath the blankets.
"My love?"
His voice was unusually hesitant.
You immediately looked up from where you'd been adjusting the covers. "Yes?"
For a moment, he seemed almost uncertain.
Golden eyes lowering briefly.
Then—
"Would you be comfortable with..." He paused, clearly searching for the words. "Me holding you while we slept?"
A warm smile glaced your lips as your nodded, "Of course, sweetheart."
Once settled into bed, Alucard's arm settled carefully around your waist as though he were handling something precious. Slowly relaxing into you only after you had done so yourself, and once he did, it was almost as though he could finally breathe properly.
Now, months later, Alucard rarely even realizes he's doing it.
You'll wake in the middle of the night to find yourself tucked securely against his chest. One arm wrapped around your waist. His hand resting over yours. Sometimes his face buried lightly in your hair.
Other times, when nightmares try to find him, you'll feel it. The unconscious way his fingers search across the mattress. The way he reaches for you even while asleep.
Seeking warmth.
And the moment he finds you, his body relaxes. The tension leaves his shoulders. His breathing evens out once more.
♡ princessxmin please do not alter, copy or translate my work !
zayne loves being your certified walking a/c whenever summer rolls around. You were already regularly affectionate with him, but now that the heat had fully settled in, you’d started clinging to him without even thinking about it.
Wherever he moves, you move.
Right now, you’re curled up against his side on the couch, one arm loosely looped around his while he reads through a stack of medical files. The steady rustle of paper and the faint scent of antiseptic from earlier in his shift should’ve been enough to keep him focused—but you’ve basically turned yourself into a very warm, very determined attachment.
Zayne doesn’t seem to mind.
At least, not until he shifts to stand.
“I need to grab something, I'll be back in a second.” he says quietly, already setting the files aside. The second his weight leaves the couch, you immediately latch onto his arm.
“Nooo.”
You tug again, firmer this time, face pressed into his sleeve like you’re trying to physically anchor him in place. Zayne glances down at you, a small smile playing on his lips as amusement dances in his eyes.
“…You won’t melt in the few minutes I’ll be away,” he says, voice calm, almost teasing.
You look up at him with full seriousness. “It's worse. I’ll boil.”
That earns a quiet exhale of amusement from him, the corner of his mouth lifting as he studies you like you’re a particularly dramatic patient. “Mm,” he murmurs. “Then I suppose I’ll have to properly diagnose you.”
You blink. “Diagnose me with what?”
Zayne shifts his grip under your arms before you can protest further, lifting you with effortless ease against his chest like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Acute separation sensitivity,” he says simply. Your protest dies immediately into a small, satisfied noise as he adjusts you against him, one arm securely around your back while the other gathers what he needs from the nearby table.
“Is that even real?” you mumble, already relaxing again.
“No,” he replies softly. “But your symptoms are consistent.”
You huff a laugh, looping your arms properly around his shoulders as he starts walking. Your lashes quickly flutter shut as you listen to the steady sound of his heartbeat beneath his shirt, the coolness around him easing the heat that had been clinging to your skin all afternoon.
It’s unfair, really.
How easy it is to melt like this in his arms.
The way his steps stay steady even while carrying you like you weigh nothing at all. The way the faint chill of his evol lingers just enough to keep you comfortable without ever becoming too much. The way his presence alone feels like relief.
You shift slightly, tucking your face closer into his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
“Then you’d agree with twenty-four hour care?” you murmur sleepily, voice muffled as you nuzzle into him. “Since my condition is so severe.”
There’s a pause.
“…Severe, hm?”
You nod against him, completely unbothered, already half-drifting.
His hold tightens just slightly, instinctive and careful as he adjusts you more securely against his chest. When he speaks again, his voice is sweeter than before. “I suppose I wouldn’t have much of a choice,” he says, a faint smile in his tone.
“If it’s that serious.” Warmth blooms in your chest at that, even through the cool air around him. You relax fully then, letting your weight settle completely into him, your breathing slowing as the rhythm of his heartbeat lulls you further under.
“…Good,” you mumble, eyes finally slipping shut for good this time. “Because I like you as my doctor.”
That earns a low chuckle from him.
And a moment later, you feel it—his lips pressing gently to your cheek, lingering just long enough to make your heart stir even as sleep pulls at you.
“I know,” he murmurs. “And I’m afraid I’m already committed to your case.”
♡ princessxmin please do not alter, copy or translate my work !
⋆˚꩜.ᐟ : including — cutesy hcs, avg fluff, implied marriage!
[౨ৎ] synopsis: random domestic things the lads!men do
[♡₊˚ ♕]: her highness's decree: Don't know what I'm gonna post after this lol, we might do a freaked out multi poll but summer themed or sum idk
౨ৎ ⟶ lads masterlist
SYLUS
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ puts his hand over sharp table corners when you walk past them; He does it so naturally you almost miss it. Whenever you walk past sharp table corners or low hanging edges, his hand is already there before you even register it. His warm palm pressed against the edge, cushioning it so you don’t bump into it. Most of the time, you don’t even realize it’s happened until you feel it—Sylus's hand brushing lightly against the side of your head instead of wood.
And when you finally do notice, it’s always the same.
You pause, turning your head slightly to look at him, caught between confusion and that soft, familiar flutter in your chest.
Sylus doesn’t look at you right away. Only after a moment does his gaze flick toward you, calm and gentle, but softer when it meets your eyes. "Careful there, sweetie," he says, a teasing lilt threading through his voice.
"Wouldn't want an injured kitten on our hands, would we?"
ZAYNE
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ knows exactly when your social battery is dying and gets you out of conversations; He notices when your smile starts to thin just a little too quickly in conversations, when your answers get shorter, when your eyes start drifting instead of really landing anywhere. He never interrupts you while it’s happening. He just waits until the exact second it becomes too much for you to keep pretending.
“Excuse me,” Zayne says smoothly when he finally steps in, appearing beside you as if he’s always been there. One hand settles lightly at your back, subtle enough that no one questions it, but firm enough that your shoulders immediately relax. Your coworker is still talking about some article she read, but Zayne’s presence quickly disrupts the rhythm of the conversation.
Zayne doesn't necessarily make it sudden or awkward, just gently redirects it, polite words and his calm authority wrapping around the conversation until it naturally dissolves.
And it's moments like that that make you so so grateful to be married to someone like zayne.
You barely even realized how much you’d been holding in until it’s suddenly gone, like someone finally loosened a tight knot in your chest. By the time you reach his car, the evening air feels colder than you expected. Zayne opens the passenger door for you without a word, like he already knows you’re running on empty.
You slide into the warm interior of his car, sinking back into the seat with a soft exhale, lashes fluttering shut for just a second longer than intended. “Thank you for that, zaynie,” you murmur tiredly as he settles into the driver’s seat beside you.
Zayne glances at you, the faintest curve forming at the corner of his mouth. His gaze softening as his green eyes flicker over your tired expression, brushing a few stray hairs from your face. “Of course, my love."
CALEB
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ automatically reaches for you when he's excited about something; Caleb has never been good at hiding his enthusiasm—though he's never had any desire to hide it from you. The second he's telling you a story, showing you something cool, or rambling about whatever has caught his attention that day, he's automatically reaching for you without even realizing it.
"Okay, okay, but listen, pips—"
One arm slips around your waist as he talks, pulling you against his side while he launches into whatever ridiculous thing he's currently invested in.
"The wing shape is designed like that for a reason. And if you look here—"
Caleb's excitement only makes him more affectionate. A hand on your shoulder. An arm around your waist. Pulling you closer every few minutes like he physically needs you involved in the conversation. Half the time, he isn't even aware he's doing it.
Too busy sharing something he loves with his favorite person.
And somehow, by the end of it, you've learned absolutely nothing about airplanes, but you've learned quite a bit about how cute your husband looks when he's excited.
XAVIER.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ steals your blankets subconsciously but gives them back immediately when you whine; Xavier has this unconscious habit of stealing your blankets like it’s instinct. It starts innocently enough: movie nights, late evenings, him sitting just a little too close until somehow the entire blanket ends up draped over him instead of you.
You don’t even notice at first.
Until you’re suddenly freezing.
“Xavierrrr” you mumble, tugging at the edge of the blanket.
He stirs slowly, blinking up at you like he’s just been pulled out of a dream. There’s a long pause where he processes absolutely nothing, then—
“…hm?”
“you're hogging the blanket, xavi.”
Silence.
"...Sorry, star."
Then, without argument or complaint, he shifts immediately. Still half-asleep and grumbling under his breath, he lifts the blanket off himself and drapes it back over you, carefully tucking it around your shoulders until you're warm again.
The moment he's satisfied, he settles right back down. His arms slip around your waist, pulling you back against his chest with a sleepy sigh. His face buries itself in the crook of your neck, warm and familiar.
Within minutes, his breathing evens out again.
And by morning?
The blanket will somehow be wrapped around him once more.
RAFAYEL
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ always checks your reflection before his own; Every time you pass a mirror together or find yourselves standing in front of your shared bathroom mirror: Rafayel's eyes find you first.
It doesn't matter if you're dressed up for one of his gallery openings or standing in one of his oversized shirts with your hair half done. His gaze always drifts toward your face before anywhere else.
Most nights, he'll wander into the bathroom while you're doing your skincare, drawn in by your presence more than anything else. You catch his reflection in the mirror as he walks up behind you, arms slipping around your waist before resting his chin on your shoulder. The embrace is loose and familiar, his attention seemingly fixed on your reflection rather than his own.
"Don't stare at me," you mumble, patting moisturizer into your skin. "I look dehydrated right now."
Then his arms only tighten around your waist. "Then you'll be my dehydrated, beautiful muse." He says sweetly, despite the teasing lit in his voice, which makes you roll your eyes as he presses a kiss to your cheek.
"I wonder if I'll still be your muse once I start shedding like a lizard."
Rafayel hums thoughtfully, resting his chin more firmly on your shoulder as he studies your reflection.
"Of course."
"Really?"
"Mm. Then I'd simply paint the most beautiful lizard in existence."
"...you're ridiculous."
Rafayel only smiles, pressing another kiss to your cheek.
"Anything for my muse."
♡ princessxmin please do not alter, copy or translate my work !
hii, is this blog still active? i just wanted to say i loveeee the way you write xavier and rafayel!! i personally feel like very few blogs write them well and make it feel realistic but i think you do! <3
Aww thank you so much !! I try to do my best to characterize all the boys accurately and it means so much to me when you guys say I did a good job <3
xavier loves when you get longer nails so you can scratch his head when he rests it in your lap, and if you stop for even a second he'll whine and peak open his eyes up at you like a disappointed cat until you keep going
sylus runs warm, and most of the time you end up not even covered by his plush duvet, but by him. His arms snug around your waist and his head on your chest the perfect blanket as you fall asleep.
zayne has this cute way of teasing you by stealing your candy on occasion. He'll kiss your cheek then your lips, lulling you into a false sense of affection then will slip the candy right out of your mouth with that slight smile on his face.
caleb puts you an air jail when you're being petty and giving him the silent treatment, and only lets you down if you agree to give him a kiss and tell him why "his pipsqueek is being so moody."
rafayel insists on applying your lipgloss/lipstick for you. He always steals your lip gloss before you can put it on yourself, insisting that his artist's eye can do it better. He'll gently tilt your chin up with two fingers, carefully applying it while studying your face with far more concentration than the task requires. Once he's finished, he'll lean back with a satisfied smile and hum, "Perfect."
♡ princessxmin please do not alter, copy or translate my work !
Caleb always loved being woken up with your cute little head between his head, and that of course was no exception on his birthday. However, this year he wanted things to be a bit different.
౨ৎ
Your back arched away from the sheets, pants and moans filling the air as you shivered. The feeling of Caleb licking a dollop of frosting off your nipples earning a pretty mewl from your lips. His tongue dragged slow and deliberate over the stiff peak, collecting every trace of sweet icing before he sealed his mouth around it and sucked hard.
The wet pull sent sparks shooting straight down your spine, your thighs twitching around nothing as he switched to the other nipple and repeated the motion, teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp.
He had you laid out on the bed like a feast, the half-eaten slice of birthday cake resting on the nightstand beside a smear of frosting he’d already transferred to your skin. Caleb’s hand slid down your stomach, fingers spreading more of the sticky sweetness across your lower belly before he followed the trail with his mouth.
Each lap of his tongue was unhurried, savoring the mix of sugar and the salt of your skin, his breath hot against you as he worked lower. When he reached the soft curve just above your mound, he paused, looking up at you with dark purple eyes and a small, knowing smirk.
“Two tasty treats just for me..,” he murmured against your skin, voice low and rough. “You gonna let me taste all of you, pips?”
You smiled softly down at him through the haze of pleasure, fingers threading gently through his hair as you tilted your hips up in invitation. “Mmm, it’s your birthday, Caleb… take whatever you want. I’m all yours today.”
His smirk widened at your words, but he didn’t rush. Instead he pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss right above your clit, tongue flicking out to catch a stray bit of frosting before he spoke again. “That’s my sweet girl. Gonna make sure you feel every bit of this.”
♡ princessxmin please do not alter, copy or translate my work !
IT WAS YOU!!!! 😱 ive been looking for the fic author who put the beauty and the beast song on sylus and istg i was so sad when i couldnt rmb who wrote it or even the title, then i just saw your blog and thought "oh cute pink 😍🌸🩷" and scrolled down to read some stuff, then i saw the fic! 😭 it was a journey but im so happy! i really liked that one bc sylus is my main and im a belle girl too 🥺 just wanted to share hehe 🩷
I'm so glad you did! Thats acc one of my favorite posts!
lowkey ever so slightly obsessed with soft!sylus hehe
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･one requirement of you using Sylus's black card? You modelling in every single piece of clothing you buy.
[♡₊˚ ♕]: her highness's decree: kinda on a sylus streak rn, I can''t get enough of his soft side <3 ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა
౨ৎ ⟶ lads masterlist | sylus masterlist
It's almost instinctive at this point.
Every time you go online to a foreign boutique, shoe store, jewelry, etc and make a few (20+) purchases, its become an unspoken rule that once all packages arrive you model them for Sylus before wearing them. And in the case that he's away at the time, you send him a cute little video of you trying all the outfits on.
“Honestly, I was worried the lining of the dress wouldn’t be as lacey as I wanted but, I love it!” you said happily, turning toward the mirror with a bright grin.
Sylus sat back on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, watching you with that unreadable, slow‑burning look he always got when you modeled for him. His crimson eyes followed every little movement — the way you adjusted a strap, how you smoothed the fabric, the way you admired yourself with that soft, adorable smile.
“You look beautiful sweetie,” he said, voice low, warm, steady. “I'm glad everything is to your liking."
Catching his gaze from the mirror, your smile softened into something warm and impossibly sweet as you turned on your heel, the silk shifting delicately with every step you took toward him. You padded over to where he sat, stopping right between his knees, and gently cupped his face in your hands. “How could it not be?” you started softly, sincerity threading through the playful tone.
Sylus's reaction was immediate — subtle, but unmistakable. His shoulders relaxed, and he leaned into your touch instinctively, like he’d been waiting for this all evening. The sight made your heart swell.
His hands slid up your sides in a slow, reverent glide before settling at your waist, fingers curving around you with a tenderness reserved only for you. “I have the sweetest, most generous lover—Who spoils me endlessly without hardly ever asking for anything in return.”
Sylus’s eyes softened immediately — that sweet, tender look he only ever gave you, the one that made your chest feel too full. His hands slid up your sides, slow and careful, like he was grounding himself in the moment, in you.
“I never would ask for anything more than your love,” he murmured, voice low but steady, carrying something deeper beneath the calm. He lifted one of your hands from his cheek, turning it slightly in his own before pressing a slow, reverent kiss to the inside of your palm — warm, soft, almost worshipful.
“Even if you never graced me with a single touch,” he continued, his lips brushing your skin for just a heartbeat longer before he let your hand settle back against his face. His thumb stroked your waist, gentle and sure. “I would do all of this and more for you without question.”
God he always had a way to make you swoon with just words alone.
Your breath caught, warmth blooming in your chest so suddenly it almost ached. The pure love and adoration in his gaze made butterflies stir low in your stomach, soft and insistent, like they were responding to him before you even could.
You leaned down with a sweet smile and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips — soft, grateful, lingering just long enough to feel the moment he exhaled against you, the tiny hitch in his breath, the way his grip on your tightened slightly, that told you exactly what you meant to him.
“I know you would,” you whispered against his mouth, your voice barely above a breath. “And I would too.”
A quiet moment settled between you — warm, tender, the kind of silence that felt like a shared secret. His hands stayed at your waist, thumbs brushing slow circles into your skin, eyes drinking you in like he couldn’t quite believe you were real.
Then you pulled back just enough to let a teasing smile curl at your lips.
“Which is why…” you said, voice dipping into that flirty, honey‑sweet tone he knew all too well, “I also bought something else you might like a bit more.” You paused, letting the words hang between you. “To show my… appreciation, so to speak.”
A slow smirk curled at Sylus’s lips — subtle, dangerous, and entirely too knowing. His brows lifted slightly, interest sparking in his crimson eyes like a flame catching.
“Oh?” he drawled, tone deceptively calm but threaded with unmistakable heat. “And what would that be, kitten?”
You let the strap of your current set slip off your shoulder just a touch — not enough to reveal anything, just enough to tease.
“Something I saved for last,” you said, grin widening. “A tiny surprise.”
Sylus’s breath slowed, his gaze sharpening with that familiar, slow‑burning hunger. His smirk deepened, eyes dragging over you with deliberate intent.
“Go on then,” he murmured, voice dropping into something warm and wicked. “Show me.”
Sylus watched you disappear into the bathroom with a giggle, his expression soft but curious, that familiar slow‑burn interest flickering in his eyes.
A few moments passed.
Then the door opened with a soft click.
You stepped out, framed by the warm light of the bathroom — wearing a pink and crimson baby doll set, delicate lace tracing every curve, paired with matching thigh‑high stockings that hugged your legs just right. The colors glowed against your skin, soft and romantic, but the confidence in your posture made it something else entirely.
Sylus went still.
Crimson eyes swept over you slowly, reverently, like he wanted to engrave the picture of you all dolled up like this in memory. And upon falling upon your legs you could practically feel the warmth in his gaze deepen into something molten, tender and hungry all at once.
You let a small, knowing smile curl at your lips.
“So,” you said softly, voice dipping into that flirty sweetness he could never resist, “What do you think, Sy?” You asked, those pretty lashes of yours batting at him.
His voice was low, velvet‑rough, threaded with a heat that made your heart flutter. “Absolutely breathtaking.”
Before you could even tease him for it, Sylus rose from the edge of the bed — slow, deliberate. His heavy gaze never leaving yours as he crossed the small distance between you, the air shifting with the weight of his attention.
When he reached you, he lifted a hand and gently brushed your hair away from your neck, fingertips barely grazing your skin. The touch was feather‑light, tender — yet it still had you biting back a sigh as your lashes fluttered.
“I hope,” he murmured, leaning in just enough for his breath to warm your cheek, “you had the foresight to buy more of these sets.”
Your lips curved, playful as you caught his eyes. “Oh? You like this one that much?”
As you spoke, your arms lifted almost instinctively, sliding up around Sylus’s neck. Your fingertips brushed the warm skin just beneath his hairline. His hand slid to your side, warm and steady, thumb tracing a slow, deliberate line along your waist as he hummed in quiet approval. The sound alone made your stomach flutter.
He dipped his head, lips brushing the shell of your ear — not a kiss, just a promise, a whisper of warmth that made your breath catch. “Because,” he whispered, voice dropping into something darker and playful , “I doubt you’ll be able to wear this one again after tonight.”
♡ princessxmin please do not alter, copy or translate my work !
daydreaming about street racing with sylus in the N109 zone, neon lights blurring past, engines snarling like they’re alive. And Sylus getting hard in his Mercedes watching you lift up the visor in your pink helmet and wink at him from your motorcycle speeding alongside him <3
♡ princessxmin please do not alter, copy or translate my work !
⋆˚꩜.ᐟ : including: fem!reader, suggestive & smut: fingering in calebs, spanking, and mentions of a blowjob in zaynes
[౨ৎ] synopsis: how lads men deal with your bratty attitude!
[♡₊˚ ♕]: her highness's decree: wanted to post this one bad bc its been a minute and I'm tired asl so it's only zayne, sylus and caleb in this one guys!
like these jewels? check out --> lads masterlist
SYLUS.
Ever since you called Sylus while you were getting ready for your date, he could tell you were in a mood that evening.
The way your voice curled around his name, soft yet seductive, had his chest tightening. How your words came sharper than usual, bluntly reminding him that it had been far too long since a proper date. And when he tried to apologize with that careful, gentle tone you knew he always used, your scoff—so perfectly timed—and the sarcastic “mhm, I’m sure you are” made him smirk despite himself.
Whether you were deliberately trying to rile him up, or just testing boundaries, he wasn’t sure.
When he picked you up from your place, you greeted him with the usual hug and kiss—but there was a little heat to it. Your hands ran up the front of his button-up, finding purchase on his shoulders, deepening the kiss. Your teeth nibbled teasingly on his bottom lip before you pulled back, lips curved in a mischievous smile, eyes twinkling with playful challenge.
“Ready to go, Sy?” you asked, voice thick with teasing promise.
His crimson eyes flickered with desire, roaming over your expression, the taste of your lip gloss lingering on his own lips. He hummed in response, slow and deliberate, noting every tiny curve of your grin, the way your fingers lingered against him, and the little dip of your brow when you tilted your head just so. "Whenever you are kitten."
Then there was the way you walked in front of him in the gem exhibit, deliberately slow, letting your heels click against the polished floor. Your hips swayed with effortless precision in the sleek, short pricey slip of silk he’d bought you for your birthday. You glanced back over your shoulder once, lips curving into that lazy, devilish smile of yours.
“See something you like, Sy?” you asked, voice thick with honey, teasing, as you paused in front of a display case, tilting your head just so.
Sylus let his gaze linger a long moment. “Always,” he said softly, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “You look beautiful in everything you wear.” His hand found yours, curling around it with ease, thumb brushing over the back as he pressed a gentle, deliberate kiss to it.
You hummed softly in response, warmth blooming in your chest at the gesture, and then your lips quirked into a teasing grin. “Someone’s laying it on thick since we couldn’t go out last week,” you said, voice carrying just a hint of bratty amusement.
He chuckled, that deep, velvet sound that made your knees threaten to wobble, eyes gleaming with quiet amusement. “I suppose I owe you,” he murmured, expression softening into that handsome, apologetic smile he knew would disarm you.
You leaned into the moment, still playful but sweet, letting your fingers rest against his hand. “Mmm…yeah you do. So, if you think this is all it’s gonna take to make it up to me,” you said, voice dipping low, dripping with flirtation, “you’ve got another thing coming.”
Before he could respond, you turned on your heel, letting the fabric of your dress swirl as you strolled deeper into the exhibit, heels clicking against the floor. Sylus followed, with a airy chuckle, crimson eyes never leaving you, taking in every sway of your hips, every casual flick of your hair, the curve of your shoulder.
You paused at another display, hands resting lightly on the glass, tilting your head back to look at him with that teasing spark. “Think you can keep up?” you murmured, voice soft, playful, but laced with challenge.
Sylus walked over to your side and stepped in close—close enough that you felt the warmth of him at your back, close enough that your breath caught before you could mask it. His hand slid up your side gently, barely there, just a whisper of contact that made your skin tighten beneath the silk.
“Kitten,” he murmured, voice low enough to vibrate through you, “I've never once been one to struggle to keep up with you in any capacity."
You felt his breath ghost along the shell of your ear—warm, slow. You'd be lying in saying it didn't stoke the fire currently building fast in your core. His lips hovered just shy of your skin, close enough that you could feel the shape of them, the heat of them, but not the kiss you were waiting for.
Still not yet.
"Yeah?" Your fingers curled against the edge of the display case, a tiny, involuntary reaction you hoped he didn’t notice. "Well it sure seems like it tonight."
He noticed.
Of course he did.
His quiet chuckle brushed down your spine like a fingertip. “There it is,” he whispered, lips still not quite touching you. “I was wondering how long you were going to keep this attitude up before you started to crack."
You swallowed, pulse fluttering.
“You've been wanting me to give in to you all night, haven’t you?”
You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to. The silence between you thickened, warm and charged, your bratty confidence wavering just enough to make his smirk deepen.
He leaned in—slow, slow, unbearably slow—until his lips grazed the corner of your jaw.
A ghost of a kiss.
Barely there.
You exhaled shakily, eyelashes fluttering, and he just smirked against your skin without giving you so much as a peck.
“Still wanna keep this up, kitten?” he murmured, his velvety voice so low and rich it nearly made your eyes flutter shut on instinct. You felt his lips trail down the line of your jaw—slow, deliberate—each barely‑there brush leaving a streak of heat in its wake. By the time he reached your neck, your breath was already catching, and when he finally pressed a kiss to that spot he knew unraveled you, a soft moan escaped before you could swallow it down.
His smile ghosted against your skin.
“Or…” another kiss, warm and maddeningly gentle, “do you want to say what you’ve been wanting since we started this date,” kiss, slower this time, “so I can give you what you want."
CALEB.
"Cmon pips, you gotta speak clearly if you want him to hear you right?" Caleb said lowly against your ear, the tone of his voice dangerously calm as he pumped two long digits in and out of your puffy cunt. Your back to his chest, hand shaking as you tried to keep your phone steady as you talked.
The scene was so lewd, you'd think you were in a cheap porn flick.
Your legs were spread wide, panties pulled to the side revealing a sticky mess that glistened all over Caleb's fingers. Thighs shaking and trembling as you resisted the urge to buck up into the thrusts of his fingers and keep your voice stable for just long enough to get this guy off the phone.
"Hey, good to hear from you," Jake's casual tone came through the speaker, oblivious. 'Just checking if you're free this weekend? Thought we could grab drinks." Caleb's lips curled into a sneer against your neck, his teeth sinking in just hard enough to mark as he sped up, fingers pumping faster, the wet squelch of your arousal filling the room. Your hips jerked involuntarily, a gasp escaping before you could stifle it.
"I-I... uh..." Words fractured as Caleb's thumb ground down on your clit, circling viciously, building that coil of heat in your core until your thighs quivered. He leaned closer, breath hot and commanding. "Tell him no. That you're not interested. Now." His fingers twisted inside you, hitting that spot again and again, making stars burst behind your eyelids and your back arch away from his chest. You bit your lip bloody, trying to focus, but your voice came out in a strained whimper. 'N-not... not interested, Jake. S-sorry.'
Jake paused, confusion lacing his reply. 'You okay? You sound..off.' Caleb chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating through you as he ramped up the pace even more, fingers slamming in and out, his palm slapping wetly against your mound. Your pussy fluttered desperately, slick dripping down his wrist, the obscene sounds barely masked by your ragged breathing. 'Keep going,' Caleb hissed, nipping your earlobe. 'Tell him you have me."
Tears pricked your eyes, pleasure and pressure mounting as you fought to speak. 'Y-yeah, I'm f-fine... just... I have a b-boyfriend. He's... he's taking me out t-tonight. So... no.' The words tumbled out in broken bursts, each one punctuated by Caleb's relentless thrusts, your clit throbbing under his thumb's assault. Your free hand gripped the sheets, knuckles white, as your body betrayed you—walls tightening, on the edge of shattering.
'Whoa, didn't know that,' Jake said, a hint of disappointment creeping in. 'Well, if things change—' Caleb cut him off indirectly, his fingers curling harder, faster, forcing a choked moan from your throat that you disguised as a cough. 'Only contact me if it's for work!' you blurted, voice cracking as the orgasm loomed, your pussy spasming around Caleb's invading digits. 'N-nothing else. Bye!" You smashed the end call button, phone tumbling from your grasp as the dam broke.
Caleb's laugh was triumphant and cruel, his hand not slowing for a second. 'That's my good little girl. Now make a mess for me—show me who this body belongs to.' He pinched your clit sharply, fingers hooking deep into your g-spot, and you shattered, crying out as waves of ecstasy ripped through you. Your pussy gushed around him, soaking his hand and the bed below, body convulsing in his unyielding grip. He didn't stop until you were a trembling, sobbing mess, then finally withdrew, licking his fingers clean with a possessive smirk.
"'No one else gets you. Ever."
ZAYNE
“Tell me,” Zayne said evenly, breaking the silence of your shared bedroom, voice steady and controlled, “how many warnings did I give you today about your behavior?”
Your stomach dipped.
It couldn’t have been that many. You were a bit more..forward today, but that's only because Zayne had been too busy for you all week and you wanted to tease him a bit! He had to know that...right?
You parted your lips, hesitating before answering, the confidence you’d worn all night finally wavering. “One… or two?” you offered softly. “I wasn’t exactly counting. We were having fun today—”
“Three,” he corrected calmly.
The word landed heavy between you.
Your thighs pressed together instinctively, breath hitching as his gaze stayed fixed on yours, unreadable. He pushed off the bedroom door then, unhurried, took a few steps toward you measured and deliberate. The sound of his shoes against the floor seemed too loud in the quiet room, your pulse thudding louder with every second he closed the distance.
“I only gave you three,” Zayne continued, stopping in front of you, “because had you chosen to behave, that’s all you would’ve needed.”
His hand came up, fingers firm as they cupped your jaw, thumb pressing just beneath your chin. He tilted your face upward until you had no choice but to look at him.
“But, you decided not to,” he said simply.
Your breath caught.
“Flashing me in the boutique, feeling me up while I was on a business call.” Zayne went on, his voice even and calm. “Teasing me at the restaurant like you wanted everyone to notice.” His thumb traced a slow, grounding line along your jaw. “With everything you did today, I could’ve given you ten warnings and still had reason for more.”
His gaze sharpened just slightly. “And you knew better each time — didn’t you?”
Your eyes dropped on instinct, heat blooming in your cheeks as you nodded.
Zayne’s grip tightened just enough to redirect you, tilting your chin back up to look at him. “Use your words,” he said quietly.
“Yes,” you breathed.
“And yet,” he continued, “you did those things anyway?”
You hesitated, heart racing, lips parting as if you might try to argue your way out of it. His brow lifted a fraction — not impatient, just expectant.
Your shoulders softened.
“...yes,” you admitted.
“And you understand,” he said, voice lowering, “what happens when you misbehave?”
“…Yes,” you whispered, submitting at last.
“Good.”
The word was followed by something unexpectedly gentle — Zayne leaned down and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to your forehead. The tension didn’t disappear, but it shifted, coiling tighter instead of snapping.
Then he sat down beside you on the bed, one hand resting at your waist.
“Across my lap,” he said calmly. “On your stomach.”
-
Your hips jolted with each crack of Zayne's hand on your ass, which was surely pink and raw by now. Cheeks stained with light tears, despite the drool of your aching cunt tha practically screamed for some attention too.
“T-twenty!” You whined out, voice muffled into a pillow. Thighs shaking with sensitivity as your whole body twitched. "Z-zaynie m'sorry please.." You whimpered, hips squirming in his lap with need.
Your every nerve stood on edge as you felt his palm hover just above your stinging skin, the aftershocks still rippling through your body. "Sorry for what, exactly?" Zayne's voice was low, steady, cutting through the haze of your whimpers like a blade. His fingers traced the edge of the reddened flesh of your ass lightly.
The touch was electric, making you jolt forward, your breasts pressing into the mattress as you buried your face deeper into the pillow. "F-for... for being bad," you stammered, voice muffled and thick with unshed sobs. "For acting out today, you warned me a bunch and I didn't listen. M'sorry baby." Your thighs trembled uncontrollably, muscles quivering as you fought the instinct to rub them together for any scrap of relief. Knowing that even if you dared — the chance of you actually orgasming tonight would be eviscerated.
Your let out a soft exhale as you felt a gentle kiss pressed to the heated curve of your ass, Zayne's lips lingering there with a tenderness that contrasted the lingering sting. The warmth of his mouth soothed the raw skin, sending a shiver up your spine that made your pussy clench with renewed need.
Zayne's hand resumed its path, rubbing slow, firm circles over the reddened flesh, easing the burn without fully erasing it. 'Good girl,' he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and reassuring. 'I know you're sorry. You've taken your punishment well.' His voice wrapped around you like a blanket, soft yet commanding, pulling a whimper from your lips as his fingers dipped lower, brushing the slick folds of your pussy. He didn't push inside, just teased the entrance with feather-light strokes, gathering your wetness and spreading it up to circle your clit once, twice, making your hips buck involuntarily.
'Z-Zayne...' you gasped, face still half-buried in the pillow, tears drying on your cheeks as fresh heat built in your core. The gentle touch was torture, heightening the sensitivity until your thighs shook harder, muscles straining to stay still. Your ass pressed back toward him instinctively, seeking more of that soothing contact, while your pussy fluttered emptily, walls contracting around nothing. "P-please 'need you zaynie."
Zayne chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest as he helped you slide off his lap, guiding you to sit up beside him on the bed. His eyes met yours, dark and intense but softened by affection, one hand cupping your cheek to thumb away the last traces of tears. 'I might have forgiven you, sweetheart. However—I still need to see how sorry you are.'
His tone was calm he patted his thigh once more, then pointed to the floor in front of him. "On your knees. Show me."
Your heart pounded, a mix of submission and eagerness flooding you as you slipped off the bed, knees hitting the soft carpet with a muffled thud. The position made your sore ass brush against your heels, reigniting the sting and drawing a hiss from your lips, but you ignored it, focusing on him. Zayne leaned back slightly, legs spread, his cock visibly hard and straining against the front of his pants, the outline thick and promising. You crawled forward on your knees, hands resting on his thighs, looking up at him with wide, pleading eyes.
"I'll be so good for you, promise. I won't misbehave again. Let me make it up to you sir..."
♡ princessxmin please do not alter, copy or translate my work !
Next time, include the fact that you're using ai for your posts :/
..I'm sorry you must be mistaken..because I don't?
I've never once used AI for my posts and I never will.
If anything more often than not I draw inspiration and ideas by reading other lovely lads works and fics! (when I say this I don't mean using the same Idea/scenario verbatim but getting ideas of my own from certain scenarios or drabble posts!)
Please don't throw around accusations! Especially when writers like myself work hard to provide amazing, detailed works for others.
[♡₊˚ ♕]: her highness's decree: getting into my flow again! I think I should be able to post at least once a week now <3
Sylus loves your touch probably more than he’d care to admit. Not for the reason you’d immediately think, though.
While, yes, feeling your nails claw at his back and your hands paw at his shoulders sparks something electric— or rather deliciously ravenous in his very core it’s the softness of your touch, the tenderness woven through it, that truly undoes him.
It’s the way your hands cradle his face at night, thumbs brushing along his cheekbones like you’re memorizing him. Your soft voice, thick with affection, riddled with sleep. Murmuring his name like the sweetest prayer as you beg to press kisses to his 'handsome, pretty face'.
It's how your arms squeeze him just as tight as his when you miss him or have come back home from a long day dealing with wanderers. The nuzzle of your face into his chest, and the way your hands clutch the back of his shirt like a lifeline.
He can't get enough of it.
Even if you're none the wiser, even if he always welcomes your affection with that faint smirk on his lips—he practically burns for your touch just as bad as you do for his.
It's how you touch him as though he’s something precious. As though he isn’t sharp-edged or dangerous, or the most feared man in the N109 Zone.
But yours—worthy of gentleness, of care. And every time your touch graces his skin, something in his chest tightens in a way no power, no conquest ever has—or ever will.
♡ princessxmin please do not alter, copy or translate my work !
