LIs react to you/MC showing up to a date dressed exactly like them.
(Genre: Fluff; tw: mild suggestiveness)
SYLUS
You stroll in with a suit jacket worn exactly the way he does- draped like a cape, the crow brooch glinting under the dim ambient light of the restaurant. Sylus raises a brow as he takes in your appearance.
"Kitten," he purrs, standing to pull out a chair for you. "Are you mocking me… or tempting me?" His fingers brush the brooch. "Because if it’s the latter, this game ends with that outfit on my floor."
It sends an electrifying heat coiling deep within you, but you refuse to let your composure slip just yet.
You mimic his posture, chin lifted. "I just wanted to see if I could pull off power better than you."
He laughs, low and indulgent. "Oh, you do."
___
XAVIER
Xavier freezes mid-sip when he sees you in his signature hoodie-and-tee combo, the tea hovering in front of his face as he looks, or rather, stares. His cup clinks when he sets it down.
"You're… me."
You wink, copying his serene smile and slipping into the seat opposite him. "Do I look like a fallen star now?"
He reaches out, fingertips grazing the fabric. "No. You look like everything… everything I love,"
Then- rare mischief flashes. “You'd look even better with me. At my place, in my be-”
“Xavier!” You yelp, stopping him from finishing what he had to say.
He beams at you. “I meant, napping in a hoodie is very comfortable. So we should try it together,”
___
ZAYNE
Zayne’s chopsticks pause over his plate when you slide into the booth, dressed in his go-to all-black attire.
His stare lingers on you.
"…You even got the correct height for the rolled sleeves."
You adjust imaginary glasses. "Based on observational data, this was the optimal outfit for unconventional seduction."
A beat. Then- he leans in, his voice a whisper. "Your confidence interval is 100%."
Your heart flutters in your chest at the way a hint of a smirk grazes his lips.
"Let's eat now, otherwise the soup dumplings will get cold." He says lightly to remind you to sit, picking one up with practiced ease and placing it into your bowl.
His gaze for the rest of the evening is weighted with a certain intensity, one that promises more to come, once you return home with him.
___
RAFAYEL
“Hey Rafayel,” you greet, your hand brushing his shoulder lightly as you walk in from behind him. “Sorry I'm late,”
There's a short beat of silence.
Rafayel's butter knife clatters onto the plate. "Is that-? Are you? ME?!"
You do a spin, the white fabric flowing around you. "Who else?"
He springs up, hands fluttering over your hair and outfit. "Oh, Miss Bodyguard you look absolutely stunning- wait, do a pose! Pose like I do!"
You flick your hair and angle your shoulder to pose. His jaw drops.
"I’m OBSESSED! This is art!" He declares.
Then, suddenly, he takes your hands into his. His tone turns serious as he asks you softly. "But you have to tell me. Am I also art to you, Miss Bodyguard?”
You grin at him. “Of course, you're the true embodiment of art itself,”
He preens, bringing your hand up and pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand. Then another, and another, until you almost have to physically sit him back down on his chair and remind him to stop the PDA and eat.
---
CALEB
Caleb chokes on his water when he sees your handmade sweater. He turns away quickly, coughing and spluttering into his elbow before he spews water all over the fancy steak frites on the table.
You make it to the corner table, a small little alcove that has an L-shaped sofa bench against the wall. With him being closer now, you can see that pink tinges the tips of his ears as he clears his throat. "You- you made this? For our date? For me?"
You mimic his shy grin, sliding your bag off your shoulder as you slide into the plush bench, knees touching his. You stretch out your arm so that he can admire your handiwork. "Just a bit of stitching with ready-made items. Had to match my favorite person."
His hands hover, like he’s afraid to wrinkle it. "I… I love it.. And the sweater paws- pipsqueak, that should be illegal,”
“Too cute to handle?” You tease.
He pinches your cheek, then squishes you in a tight hug. “Never, pipsqueak.”
LIs react when you experience muscle aches from exercising. They tend to your pain and get just the tiniest bit side-tracked.
Genre: fluff; Tw: suggestiveness (a lot of it)
SYLUS
"Really now? A trial class at the gym did this? I thought you'd be more resilient." Sylus smirks as you groan, his fingers pressing into a particularly stubborn knot between your shoulder blades.
You glare over your shoulder. "I am. I just got too ambitious and chose the advanced class,"
"Mhm." He flicks on a sleek massage device, its hum quickly soothing the pain, making you sigh and melt against the pleasant sensation.
The device stops.
He chuckles when you let out a disappointed whine. “Ambition comes at a cost. But I'll gladly help you repay it,”
His free hand massages your shoulder, then he traces the curve of your neck lightly with his finger, trailing near your collarbones.
The moment his finger dips under your collarbone, you hiss, jerking away from his touch- just to collide backwards into his chest.
“Does it hurt, or were you just… sensitive?" He asks, voice low and the slightest bit rougher.
“Hurts,"You grumble.
That workout did a number on your pectorals- you had no idea the chest muscle would be connected all the way to your stupid collarbone.
Sylus, on the other hand, seems to be having the time of his life.
You feel him press a kiss to your shoulder, then you neck-
“I'll take your word for it, Miss Hunter,"he says lightly, but with the way his breath fans across your skin and how his fingers trace feather-light circles at the skin below your collarbones, his free hand gripping your waist just a bit tighter- you know he has more on his mind. And so do you, because the air feels electrified, warm and dark with anticipated promises.
“Excuse you, Mr Physio," you fire back weakly, “This isn't the service I was promised,”
"Patience," he purrs, watching your frustration with amusement. "You will be granted everything you requested for… if you tell me everything that's going on in that pretty little head of yours right now,"
Your face flushes red. What an absolute, infuriating tease.
“I will... if you tell me what's on your mind too,”
“Negotiating now, kitten?” He says with a chuckle. “How about I show you?”
___
XAVIER
You all but collapse onto the bed after your shower, the accumulated fatigue from work and an intense stress-relief gym session feeling like a crate of sandbags on your shoulders.
You lie belly-down and prop your chin on your forearms, then immediately regretting the motion when you feel the muscle ache radiate through your upper back.
“Ow,” you mumble into the blanket under you.
Chirpy music comes to a halt when Xavier pauses his game, tossing his phone to one side.
“What's wrong?” He says, voice laced with concern.
You turn your head to look at him. “Just… the gym. No Wanderers to blame this time.”
"You pushed yourself hard today," Xavier murmurs, his palms warm against your sore shoulders. "It’s admirable… but let me ease the aftermath."
You go limp under his gentle touch, his thumbs circling the tension with just enough pressure. "Mmm… how are you this good at this?"
"Practice," he says innocently- but then his fingers dip under your shirt and inch up your back. "Though this… is purely self-indulgent."
“Xavi-”
“Hmm?” His hands smoothly trace your shoulder blades, following the groove until they're tracing down, all the way down to the small of your back.
Your breath hitches. He smiles, slow and knowing.
"Shh," he whispers, lips grazing your ear as he gently presses on sore muscles. "I will only ease your discomfort tonight. I won't get greedy. But once you’re recovered… I’ll show you other ways to relax after training,”
___
ZAYNE
Over dessert, you mentioned casually that your muscle pain onset was quicker than usual. Zayne nodded, and the night seemed to continue as usual.
That is, until you struggle to change into loungewear at home.
The act of taking your t-shirt off made your muscles protest, and once you wrestled it off, you picked a flannel, because to hell with anything that needed you to raise your arms higher than your shoulder.
Zayne, ever the observant lover, interrogated you for the odd choice of clothing.
A few moments later, you sit at the side of the bed while he kneels on the mattress behind you.
Zayne’s examination is brusque with efficiency- fingers prodding, joints tested. "Minor strain. Temporary pain is expected, but nothing crippling."
You pout. "Wow. Such clinical precision."
"I’m a surgeon, not a physio," he deadpans, but moves to retrieve a pain-relief cream anyway.
“May I-?” He asks softly, uncapping the bottle.
You nod, his question innocent and practical, but the implication of being under his watchful gaze as you unbutton your shirt makes your face heat up.
His touch is meticulous, smoothing the gel over your skin with unexpected tenderness.
Your heart skips, fluttering warmth spreading through your chest. It's nice when Zayne takes care of you like this.
And thank heavens you're not going through a cardiac assessment right now, because you'd be mortified at the stats- and Zayne would be equal parts amused and exasperated.
When you sigh, his fingers stutter. "…Does that hurt?"
"No," you murmur, locking eyes with him. "Feels good."
You see a familiar hunger seep into his eyes, and he looks away. "Don’t- don’t say it like that."
“What?” You ask coyly, tracing his jaw and feeling him lean subtly into your touch.
He exhales through his nose, calm, measured. Like he's trying to stop himself from unravelling.
He catches your hand and threads your fingers together. “At least let me take care of you first, before you continue with your mischief,”
Knowing Zayne, that in itself is both a permission and a promise.
___
RAFAYEL
It was a mistake to stretch, the familiar motion- or attempt at raising your arms high above your head.
You're now at the mercy of all the tight knots in your body drilling pain into your soul.
Rafayel, of course, notices immediately and ushers you into his room in a flurry of questions, prodding, and nuzzles (“my cutie deserves a spa treatment for training so hard today!”)
And so, here you are, in Rafayel's ornately decorated ensuite bathroom.
"Magnesium salt! Magic for muscles!" Rafayel says excitedly, dumping a suspicious amount into the steaming bath. "Trust me, Miss Bodyguard. I’m an artist- we invented suffering for our craft!"
Rafayel then drizzles lavender oil into the bath.
"This’ll make you glow like… like a bioluminescent jellyfish," he declares, pushing up the sleeve of his bathrobe and testing the water with his elbow.
Seeming satisfied, he offers you a hand. "Your magical healing bath awaits,"
You eye the water warily. "It won’t turn me purple, right?"
"Pfft. I wish it really did that. I'd even want to create a bath that gives you a beautiful iridescent glow, my cutie. But, until I figure out how to do that, it is only pleasantly scented mineral water,"
He guides you in, "Now relax.”
The moment you sink in, he gasps, "Wait-! I forgot something-”
Before you can turn your head, he’s shrugging off the bathrobe. And then you yelp- he joins you, towel barely clinging to his hips once he lowers himself into the bath behind you. "Raf- why are you in here?!"
"Can't forget me, your favourite fishie," He beams at you and splashes lazily. "…Also, it's easier to give you a massage this way."
His hand finds your shoulders, and as you melt into his gentle massages, you realise- he does have a knack for all things involving self-care and pampering, and he is never frugal about it when it comes to you.
___
CALEB
You know he rushed back from work once he saw you text him a few complaints about your aching muscles, because he’s still wearing the pressed white shirt that he usually layers under the colonel jacket. Normally, he’d change into a tee before heading home.
He’s seated you on the yoga mat, and you’re watching some home renovation show on the TV while Caleb manoeuvres your arms. A semi-permanent grimace is etched on your face from the sore muscle groups being recruited into unwanted movements.
“Focus, pipsqueak. Stop holding your breath,”
Caleb’s hands are firm, guiding you through stretches designed for fleet pilots to enhance post-mission recovery.
"Next part’s gonna hurt," he warns. "But it’ll help. Breathe through it."
You whimper as he presses into your shoulder deeper- and instantly, his grip loosens. "Too much?"
"Nuh-No, just… intense."
His ears redden at your breathy tone. "You- uh- gotta stop making those noises."
You grin at how flustered he looks. "Or what?"
“Or else,” He corrects, his expression morphing into one that foreshadows breathy whispers and heated touches that leave you shaking.
A hand tips your chin up, and his lips graze your earlobe.
“Or else- I won’t be able to hold back, and you won’t be able to handle it, not in your state,”
“Caleb- aha.. Ha, I know. I’m just- just kidding,” you breathe, cheeks bright red.
“Of course you are,” he says, voice low as he continues with the massage. “Now stay still for me.”
Hi! Loved the amusement park drabbles! :3 May I request Love and Deepspace love interests reacting to when reader suddenly calls them and when they turn towards them they blow LI the kiss?
That's such a cute prompt aaaa! ☺️ Couldnt resist working on it
[Scenario/drabble] You catch your LI off-guard when you blow them a playful kiss. (They love it.)
SYLUS
The sleek vehicle's engine purrs to a stop, and Sylus barely has time to unbuckle before you call his name.
"Sylus,"
He turns, one eyebrow arched- just in time to catch your blown kiss mid-air.
Then his lips curl into a knowing smirk.
"Kitten," he drawls, leaning across the console, "if you wanted my attention..."
His fingers catch your wrist, pulling your hand to his mouth. He presses a real kiss to your palm—slow and deliberate.
“You have it now,” he finishes.
And then he bites, teeth lightly scraping skin.
"But by all means… Surprise me more often."
Before you can even agree to the promise, Sylus pulls you in and presses a kiss to your lips. "I like that side of you."
___
XAVIER
Xavier is halfway through stuffing his gloves into his bag when you call out to him.
"Xavier!"
He turns, just as you blow the kiss. His fingers freeze, eyes widening slightly.
For a moment, he simply stares . As if you’ve handed him a rare protocore instead of a gesture.
Then, softly, he lifts his own hand, catching the imaginary kiss against his palm. He presses it to his chest- right over his heart.
"Yours," he murmurs, "to keep."
---
ZAYNE
Zayne is scrutinizing a shelf of cardigans when you call his name.
"Zayne~"
He glances over, just as you blow the kiss. His expression doesn’t change, but his grip tightens on the shopping basket.
"…Public displays of affection increase dopamine levels," he says flatly. "But they also risk unwanted social attention."
You pout. "So… no kiss back?"
A pause. Then- "Tsk."
He yanks you behind a rack and kisses you- hard, parted lips pressing on yours with a heat that has you blushing red.
"Behave," he tells you, with a firm voice and a twinkle in his eye. "Now, can we focus on what we need on our shopping list?"
As you walk out from behind the rack, you wonder- who's the misbehaving one?
___
RAFAYEL
Rafayel is in his personal dressing room, hiding away from the bustling crowds at his art exhibition that Thomas has dragged him to. He is mid-bite into a croissant when you call his name.
"Rafayel!"
He spins- mouth still full- as you blow the kiss. For a second, he just blinks.
Then he starts to grin before he even finishes chewing the pastry, but he holds up a finger, turning to the side.
Brushing some crumbs from the side of his lips, he swallows hastily.
"Miss Bodyguard! Was that practice for your personal portrait? Shall we get started on it this evening?"
You roll your eyes. "No, it was-"
“Too late!" He declares. "I demand a reenactment! With feeling ! And maybe a real kiss for me first-"
_____
CALEB
Caleb is comparing cereal prices when you call his name.
"Caleb!"
He turns- and almost drops the box as you blow the kiss.
"O-Oh!" His ears turn red. "I- You- Pipsqueak?!"
You giggle. "What, not used to this?"
"N-No! Just-" He fumbles, nearly knocking over a display. "I just- uh- yeah, actually,"
When he finds his voice again, his smile is sunny.
