#rafayel fluff

[luvzayne]

not my name! 

synopsis: how he reacts when you call them by their full name in front of other people character/s: xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, caleb x f!reader (separate) warning/s: none!  note/s: my favorite one has to be zayne and sylus' im ngl i had so much fun writing this

xavier: 

you should’ve known that dating the notorious quiet, handsome man in the association would be an open invitation for your coworkers to pry and get answers for the questions they always had but never dared to ask. 

how could they? whenever they talk to xavier, he replies with one-word answers, worse, sometimes he just stares as if the question was the stupidest thing he has ever heard. and honestly, that idea wasn’t far-fetched. 

having you as his partner and girlfriend only solidified the association’s curiosity about xavier. 

“i don’t think he’d care.” simone mutters as she bites another mini sandwich from the snack display. 

tara shakes her head as if trying to convince her to change her mind. “he can’t not care! right?” she turns to you as you tilt your head in confusion, not catching majority of the conversation, too caught up in a mini staring contest that you and xavier had from across the room. 

“what?” 

“how do you think xavier would react to being called by his name.” you furrow your brows at tara’s question, not exactly getting it. 

“nothing? it’s his name…” “no, not his name but his name-name.” 

in all honesty, tara lost you. but you urged her to explain that couples usually dislike it when they’re called by their given names rather than a pet name. 

and now that you’ve thought about it, you didn’t think that you’ve ever called xavier by his real name. 

with tara’s devilish grin, you almost felt bad for wanting to test it out, after all, no better time than the present, right?

“i bet twenty that he doesn’t care.” simone wagers, you almost scolded her, if not for tara’s enthusiastic counter with a fifty. 

your gaze flits towards xavier who was already approaching the three of you with two drinks in hand. 

he smiles softly as he hands you the flute of champagne. you gave him a grateful smile, the words slipping out of your lips almost in a foreign way. 

“thank you, Xinghui.”

you could see the way xavier’s smile twitches. he does not respond; instead, he wraps an arm around your waist. 

“are you having fun, star?” you nod before turning back to your friends whose expressions differed from triumph to devastation at the immediate turnout of their bet. 

“mm!” you nod, a smile on your face as you lean over to his warmth. “i was just telling simone and tara how much my Shen Xinghui treats me well.” 

xavier swoons at the my but not so much what came after. 

“ah. i see.” he tightens his grip around your waist before he gestures towards the open balcony, in the guise of fresh air. 

you bid your friends a wave goodbye, tara looking like she was trying her hardest not to laugh and simone already counting the bills in her wallet to slap on tara’s waiting hand.

once you and xavier were on the clear, he pulls you into his arms, his face buried on the crook of your neck. 

“did i do something wrong? i’m sorry.” xavier says softly against your skin, tickling you slightly. 

you giggle, pulling his face away to see a pout on his lips. 

“what do you mean, Xinghui?” his pout deepens. 

“i don’t like that name.” “what do you mean? it’s literally your name.” 

“yeah, to others, but not to you.” xavier says as he holds you tighter against him. 

you conclude that it was the end of your little prank, as you explained the bet that your friends made. xavier huffs as he mumbles at the crown of your head. 

“i’d rather you call me lumiere.” 

“really?!”

“no.”

zayne: 

when zayne told you that his parents were going to visit, it was safe to say that you spent the entire day ensuring that your home was welcoming. you and zayne spent time cleaning and redecorating your shared space. 

the doorbell rings, and for a moment, you thought it was his parents who arrived an hour early, but to your surprise, it was only the deliveryman for the patisserie you ordered from. 

knowing that althea and jace rarely spent time in linkon, you wanted to ensure that they could try new delicacies, so you ordered linkon’s finest macarons, and as a bonus, you bought them their favorite tea as well. 

you placed it on the kitchen countertop and forgot about it, thinking that you could easily plate them once they arrived. you failed to notice the curious doctor who approached the box after you left. 

althea and jace arrived right on time, you greeted them with a smile as althea hugs you, complimenting how beautiful you had grown from the last time she saw you, while you led them to the couch. zayne sat on the opposite sofa, engaging in small talk, blushing slightly as his father coos about how chubbier his cheeks are and how healthier he looks. 

“i’ll prepare some tea.” you excuse yourself as you walk to the kitchen to steep the tea. 

once it was finished, you put the teacups on the tray as you walked back to the living room, where they were. 

“oh! zayne, could you pour out the tea? i’ll go get the dessert,” you say to your husband, who freezes for a split second. 

“no need, darling,” zayne says as he makes a move to stand up. “i can get it; you should sit down. you’ve done enough,” he says, coaxing you to sit down. you shake your head, stopping him from standing up. 

“it’s okay, zaynie, i’m already standing up, just sit down and catch up, i’ll be right back.” you say, giving his cheek a swift peck, hearing his mother coo at how domestic the two of you were. 

you went back in the kitchen, humming slightly under your breath before it stops as you opened the box ofdesserts. 

there were only six macarons left. you ordered eight.

your jaw drops at the only answer as to why two were suddenly missing. without saying anything more, you plated the remaining macarons before carrying it back. 

you can see zayne’s back as you walk, slightly tense as he tries to keep up with a conversation with his father. 

“Li Shen.” zayne jolts as you say his name, you can’t see his exact expression, but judging by the way althea was biting her lip in amusement and jace was already grinning, you know that he knows that he’s in trouble. 

“yes, dearest?” zayne answers, his hand on the teacup as he takes a small sip, trying to act unbothered. 

“why are there only six macarons?” you walked slowly, placing the plate in the middle of the coffee table and facing him, crossing your arms.

zayne blinks slowly, you can see the small gulp he took. 

“perhaps the patisserie made a mistake. we can contact them after,” he says in a calm tone. 

you raise a brow. 

“you have crumbs at the corner of your mouth, Li Shen.” his eyes widened before he put the teacup down, wiping at his mouth, trying to get rid of the evidence, but the four of you know it was too late. 

althea laughs at the display, patting her husband affectionately on the arms. 

“this reminds me of when we caught our little zaynie sneaking for the cookie jar when he was young, right jace?” jace nods, a stifled laugh leaving his lips. 

zayne looks down in embarrassment. you clicked your tongue softly before sitting beside him. 

“i told you the desserts were for your parents!” you whined softly as you took one of the macarons, slicing it and eating it, stabbing another bite for zayne. 

he unashamedly takes it. 

“i apologize, my love.” he was not sorry at all. 

althea and jace only look at the two of you, amused. yet, happy that their zaynie truly found love. 

you reached down absentmindedly towards zayne’s teacup, only for you to flinch. 

his teacup was frozen solid. 

you looked at him who avoided your gaze, before clearing his throat. 

“i’d argue that the frozen teacup is your fault.” zayne says, immediately regretting it as you glared at him. 

“what was that?”

“i said that you are sweeter than any macaron i have ever tried.” 

sounds about right. 

rafayel: 

rafayel has been working on a painting for the last three hours. well, that’s how long it seemed to you because you’ve only been in his mansion for three hours. you knew he was painting for longer, given that it looked like it physically hurt him to adjust his posture. 

“raf, take a break,” you say gently as you place a hand on his back. 

he looks at you with a smile on his face. “in a bit, cutie! i promise. i’m about to invent a new color.” you rolled your eyes at his quip, yet let him do it, you wouldn’t have been able to pry him off anyway. 

the sound of a doorbell ringing takes your attention off your boyfriend, who seems to have the idea of ignoring the sound. 

“don’t worry, cutie. it’s probably thomas.” rafayel waves it off. you sighed and walked towards the door. 

“you know, he wouldn’t be as overbearing if you stopped ignoring him,” you retort. 

“no, cutie. he’d lock me up in his basement to keep painting if he could.” 

you paid his response no mind as you opened his door, awaiting to see thomas’ brunette hair and stressed-out expression. only to be pleasantly surprised when you see the shade of rafayel’s hair greet you. 

“talia! what a surprise.” you say, greeting her as your eyes flit downwards, seeing the luggage at her feet. “oh! let me carry those in, please come inside. i didn’t know you were visiting.” you hurriedly grasp her luggage, then usher her in.   

talia thanks you with a smile on her face, giving you a gentle laugh as you fussed over her. 

at this point, you were flustered. you did not know that rafayel’s aunt was visiting; had you known, you would’ve made a greater effort in getting rafayel to clean his own home. it was in no means ready to cater to a guest. 

“ah, really?” talia asked, genuinely surprised. “i thought rafayel might’ve told you. but then again, rafayel easily forgets things.” 

you smiled, nodding, still giving her your best host-like smile, while inside your head, you were already scolding your boyfriend in your mind. 

“--just like how he forgot to pick me up from the airport.” “what?” 

you couldn’t help but cut talia off as your eyes widened. you looked over to the painter who was still stuck in his own world, as if his only remaining family member wasn’t standing in his house. 

“Qi Yu.” 

rafayel freezes in his action, the paintbrush dropping from his hand for a split second before he sharply turns towards you, who looks back at him, unamused. 

your arms were crossed, a glare on your face as you stared him down. 

“...yes, my cutie?”

you give him an unimpressed look before raising a brow. rafayel seems to have noticed the additional presence in the room as his eyes widened. from under his breath, you could hear him mutter a curse. 

he immediately straightens, ignoring the kinks in his back that screamed at him from the sudden movement, before he walks to where the two of you were, his arm rising to wrap against your waist, only for you to dodge it in an obvious way. 

“cutie–” 

“you didn’t tell me that talia was visiting!” you say, exasperated. “and how could you invite her here when this place is such a mess! she came all the way from varona and this is what you greet her with?”

rafayel rubs a hand behind his neck, sheepish. “i forgot.” 

“really, Qi Yu. you forgot.”

rafayel flinches as you use his full name; that action spurs talia to let out a laugh at the banter. 

“i have seen rafayel be summoned by his father using that name, and he does not even bat an eye, yet…” talia smirks as she interlocks her arm with yours. 

“i see my nephew has a weakness.” 

rafayel would’ve found a way to refute, really, he would, but his face was burning and his lips were formed into a pout as he saw you visibly soften at talia’s assurance. 

“no need to worry about me, dear. i’ll make myself at home in the guest room.” talia pats your arm once before she wheels in her luggage towards the relatively tidy guest room. 

when talia was gone, you looked at rafayel with a blank expression on your face. 

“cutie…”

“so, let me get this straight.” you interrupt him. “you ignore me for three hours even though you invited me to your house. you forget to pick up your aunt from the airport and you forget to tell me so i can prepare to accommodate her, and now all you can say is cutie? really, Qi Yu?”

rafayel wraps his arms around you, pulling your front flush to his chest as he whines. “cutiee—” he buries his face onto your hair. “i’m sorry. please never call me that again.”

your lips twitch, secretly having fun with his reactions. 

“Qi Y—” “cutiee. stooop.” rafayel whines as he nuzzles his face onto your neck. he sighs as he pulls away, a pout still on his face. “i promise i’d take better notice of my schedules.” 

“and?” 

“and?!” rafayel echoes back, offended that you didn’t take the bait before he collects himself. “and i’ll treat you and talia to an expensive dinner tonight.”

“good.” 

rafayel pouts. 

“you can be so mean sometimes, cutie.” 

“really, Qi—” “stop!” 

sylus: 

sometimes, you curse yourself for being competent. at first, you thought that showing guts in the hunter’s association would bring you more respect and dignity. 

in reality, it just thrusts you on more missions that make you question if the salary was justifiable. 

you were so tired, you just got back from a week-long mission. 

you just wanted to rest in sylus’ arms and whine about how the association was wringing you dry and look at him in appallment once he suggests quitting your job. you know, the usual. 

as you ride your motorbike to the N109 zone, you can already imagine the conversation. you smiled softly to yourself as you approached the heavy doors that seemed to readily open to you. 

you walk towards the main hall, brows furrowing as you hear luke and kieran throwing out profanities and the sounds of controllers clicking. 

you push open the door to see luke, kieran and, surprisingly sylus, on the couch with their vr gear on. you see the tv playing a racing game that you vaguely remember playing. judging by the twins’ response, you assumed that sylus was in the lead. 

as much as you would’ve loved to join in and have a little game night, you were tired and wanted nothing more but to be held by your lover.

seeing sylus be so unguarded and oblivious to your arrival, you couldn’t help but time your entrance, once you see sylus seconds away from the finish line, you cleared your throat as you loudly called out. 

“Qin Che.” 

luke and kieran freeze as if they were the ones being called as they ripped out the vr gear from their faces, looking like deer in headlights. sylus also takes his off, albeit slower, as he takes in your figure. a look of surprise and longing in his expression.

you had your arms crossed, a blank expression on your face as you stepped closer. 

almost immediately, you see the twins skedaddle past you, dropping their gear and leaving sylus sitting on the couch. 

“ooooooo, dad’s in trouble!” you hear luke tease, and a sharp smack! right after, as kieran urges him to move faster, the door slams shut. 

an offended caw resounds in the room, you turn around to see mephisto banging itself on the door, wanting to get out as well. you bit back laughter as you see the door open for just a sliver before a gloved hand– you’re assuming luke, reaches out to pull mephisto by the wing, an indignified squawk leaving the metal crow’s beak.

the room was silent, save for the video game’s background music, to which sylus shuts down. 

you walked over to him, who sat there waiting for your next move. 

without another word, you sat on his lap, your face pressing against his chest, hearing the way his heart was beating significantly faster. 

“welcome home.” sylus says as he wraps his arms around you, breathing in your scent. 

“your heart’s beating really fast.” you point out, voice muffled by his chest. you pull away slightly to look up at sylus who immediately presses a kiss on your forehead. 

“well. it seemed like a certain kitten hissed at me unprovoked,” sylus said as he affectionately ran his fingers through your hair. 

“all because i called you by your name?” 

sylus chuckles as he presses another kiss to the crown of your head. 

“sweetie, you underestimate the power you have over me.”

caleb: 

you really shouldn’t have agreed to be caleb’s date at their high school reunion. hell, he shouldn’t have even bothered going. 

the day could’ve been spent with the two of you cuddling in comfortable clothes on your sofa, but no. caleb thought it would be a good idea to show you around the DAA. 

which wasn’t what was happening as his former classmates whisked him away. you stood off to the side, a frown on your face, arms crossed over your chest. 

caleb promised you that he’d be back in five minutes. it’s been thirteen minutes, and there was no sign of him ending the conversation. good thing that gideon was right beside you, keeping you company, as he only arrived a few minutes ago.

“your boyfriend sure is popular, huh?” gideon teases as he nudges you with his elbow. 

“too popular if you ask me,” you mumble under your breath, eye twitching as yet another former classmate approaches him. 

gideon snorts under his breath. “he’s always been popular, not even your scrunchie on his wrist managed to ward off the girls at the time.” you huff at that, eyes zoning in on the girl by the corner of your approaching caleb. 

it was irrational, you’re well aware of that, but enough was enough. 

‘caleb is mine.’ the jealous part of your mind screamed. 

“Xia YiZhou!” 

for a split second, you can feel the tension in the room drop, and everyone in the room freezes. caleb immediately turns to where you were standing, smiling sheepishly.

“coming, honey!” caleb walks briskly to where you were, but you gave him the cold shoulder. 

he tries to pry your arms away from your chest as he attempts to coddle you. 

“you said five minutes, Xia YiZhou.” you say, turning away from him. from the side, you can hear gideon stifle a laugh as caleb’s face drops at your words. 

“pips, you know—” “five minutes. you said.” you glare at the way caleb’s lips twitched, you knew the bastard was fighting a smirk. 

“is my pipsqueak feeling bored–” he reaches up to playfully pinch your cheek, but you dodged his hand before walking away. 

“damn dude, good luck.” you hear gideon say as you exit the venue. 

caleb follows you, letting you walk three steps ahead. you walk by the school’s open garden, feeling the breeze pass your face.

“go away, Xia YiZhou! i don’t wanna see you.” you hear caleb chuckle from behind you, and all of a sudden, he’s right beside you, flinging an arm around your shoulders.

“what’s got my baby apple upset, hm?” you huffed, reaching for your opposite shoulder to pull his hand, only to feel his palm sweating. 

and caleb’s palm only ever does that when he’s nervous. 

you fight the grin that threatens to escape your face. however, caleb already caught sight of it. 

“ah, i see. someone just wanted my attention.” you rolled your eyes, dropping the facade. 

“there were too many girls trying to talk to you.” you huffed. “it’s like they don’t know you have a girlfriend!” you squint your eyes, accusatory. 

“unless you told them you didn’t have one.”

“hey now, pipsqueak.” caleb flicks your forehead softly. “even if they didn’t know, i’d let them know. no need to be jealous,” you huff, turning around. 

caleb couldn’t help the chuckle that leaves his lips as his arms snake around your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

“i’m all yours, pipsqueak.”

“Xia YiZhou, you dummy!”

caleb only smiles against the back of your head, finding your little tantrum cute.  

“yeah, yeah. your dummy. i know.”

mentally, he was already planning all the ways he could get you to call out to him affectionately once more.

note/s: omg two uploads in one day that's craaaaaaazy lmao i hope you enjoyed this one <3

[livanavier]

more of daddy!rafayel

"baby, why do you look so much like daddy?"

two huh's and two lavender heads turn at you. the grin you try so hard to conceal spreads wide anyway. those same sunset eyes and same confused expressions. the smaller guy rests in your lap while the other guy is sitting beside you on the comfort of your couch.

"what that mean, mummy?" kashiel blinks. rafayel nods along too.

"i mean, why your face," you cup kashiel's face, "your eyes, your hair, and oh! your nose too," you gently pinch his little nose, "all the same as daddy?"

"'course i look like daddy! i daddy baby." it's the obvious, sure. bless your baby for his mummy about to bully him.

"and you're not mummy's baby?" you ask, putting a very hurt, sad face. your son's proud face washes away as he panics seeing you pout.

"wha–!! i mummy baby too." determined little thing as he kneels in your lap, facing you with hands on your shoulders to prevent himself from unstable footing. "why you say i no mummy baby?"

"you tell me, kashiel." it's fun to tease kashiel. he's so smart and mischievous. always have something to come up with in any situation. you wonder how this one will turn out.

your husband at the same time has snuggled up at your side. head tilted back on the couch as he watches his wife and son having a conversation. his most favorite thing in the world.

"uh.." kashiel turns to look at daddy for help. rafayel stuck his tongue out instead. never mind!

"uhm.. mummy.. i.." the gears in his brain are working overtime to prove he's just as much as mummy's like he is daddy's. "i kind! mummy kind! that why i mummy baby too."

kashiel carefully observes your face. please mummy smile, please mummy smile and say he's mummy's baby chanting internally.

"oh so daddy's not kind, kashiel?" a voice that's not mummy chirps and intervenes.

kashiel huffs and loops his little arms around mummy's neck, seeking your hug and attention. melting like a puddle when you laugh and kiss his hairline.

"daddy no kind! you eat my donuts."

"excuse you, you already had so many donuts that day and they were going to spoil, mister. someone had to finish it, we don't waste food." rafayel eyes the way kashiel's clinging to you like a damn barnacle. your husband has yet to have his own fill of cuddles today!

"i no care. i mummy baby."

"you are mummy's baby indeed. tomorrow we buy some donuts, okay?" you agree easily, revelling at how your husband turns sulky now. another big baby to deal with here.

[humanjarvis]

lads LIs when you're hesitant to initiate kisses

sylus understands your hesitancy to make yourself vulnerable, but he also can't stand to see you unfulfilled. the first couple times he catches you staring at his lips, he offers nothing but lazy blinks and slow smirks, challenging you to come to him first. but when you look away in uncertainty one too many times, seemingly content to watch your own desires slip away as long as it saves you from embarrassment, he saunters toward you, maintaining eye contact all the way. placing one hand on your hip and the other on your chin, he bends to capture your lips with his, making you stumble with his intensity. his grip on you only tightens when he breaks the kiss, and before you can ask what he’s doing, he tugs you toward his lips. when you lose your balance and fall into his embrace, you realize his game: he’s making you kiss him first 

zayne empathizes with your shyness and hesitancy, afraid to so much as look at you the wrong way in case he offends you. since you’re both too frozen in overthought to make the first move, you don’t become intimate as quickly as most couples, trading physical closeness for emotional understanding. when he walks you to your door after a visit to the bakery, he leaves you with a warm goodnight hug, and you both assume the other is satisfied. only when you think he’s asleep on the sofa one evening and press a fond kiss to his cheek does he realize you share his private desires. the next day, after stoically psyching himself up for 20 minutes, he finds you in the kitchen and kisses you deeply, a pink tinge on his cheeks when he pulls away

caleb wants you to kiss him first—or at least ask him to kiss you—but what if you won’t? he needs to know that you want him—that you’ll willingly give him the privilege of kissing you—so he gives you a few pushes in the right direction. he teases you with heated glances and not-so-accidental touches until you walk up to him, dumb with desire. when you stare up at him helplessly, he settles a large hand on your waist and hovers over your mouth, giving you the chance to push him away. when you don’t, he leans in slowly, tantalizingly, as if wanting to drive home the fact that you’re letting this happen to you—letting him claim your mouth in a slow, consuming kiss. this way, maybe, just maybe, you’ll find the courage to take what you want from him next time—if you let him taste you, there’s no need to be shy anymore, right?

you know rafayel, so you know he would be upset if you expected him to initiate everything—would it kill you to show a little interest in him? that said, you also know that initiating things isn’t really your thing. so, you find a trick that works like a charm: you goad him into kissing you. you’re comfortable enough with kisses to other places—anywhere but the lips—so you adorn his cheeks and neck with soft, chaste kisses until he’s riled up and flushed, his breath coming out in soft pants from the pleasure of feeling wanted. when you pull away, he chases your touch, and all it takes is an innocent giggle from you before he’s pinning you down and stealing your breath away, his tongue tangling with yours in passion and power.

xavier is confused and a bit discouraged when he realizes you never initiate—he thinks you just don’t want to kiss him. one afternoon, you find him sulking in bed, huddled under his comforter with the lights off. worried he’s sick or hurt, you ask what’s wrong, and he gives you 4 pouty non-answers before finally giving in. you can feel your face heat and gut tangle in guilt when he questions if you ever want to kiss him, and with one hand stroking his hair, you confess that you’re simply too shy to kiss him first. he responds with a blink and a whispered “so you do like me, then?”, and when you nod, he tackles you at the speed of light, pressing kisses all over your face before finally claiming your lips

a/n: anon who asked me if i’d ever write for zayne and i hinted at later this week this is not what i was talking about don’t worry, just an impromptu writing exercise to convince myself i’m not washed. also while this technically counts for xavier and raf i’m the least familiar with their cards so idk if/when i can write anything much longer than this for them (love them tho)

[starlitsofia]

hey🥰!! Humbly requesting (if possible) what the Lads guys do when you kiss them and then run away ig? to tease them.

And happy December 1st✨️🤍

When you kiss him and run away

𝜗℘ feat. rafayel, xavier, zayne, sylus, caleb.

A/N: Happy December everyone!! I know I’m late but exams are chewing me alive (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)♡

— 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋

The kiss is quick, a soft brush of warmth against his lips and you’re gone before his breath even leaves him.

Rafayel freezes.

You watch his face change in seconds: surprise, wounded pride, disbelief… and finally, a quiet ache he tries to hide.

Slowly, he stands from his seat, fingers still stained with color from whatever painting he abandoned the moment you touched him.

You hear a dramatic sigh echo across the room.

“Oh,” he says, voice wounded enough to be framed in a museum. “So this is your new hobby? Kissing me and fleeing before the colors settle?”

He walks toward you not with the speed of someone chasing, but with the deliberate elegance of someone approaching a canvas that offended him personally.

“Cutie,” he calls, the word slicing through the silence, “you’ve left me with more questions than brushstrokes.”

You’re cornered by the time he reaches you, not trapped, just enveloped in his presence, in the intensity that follows him like spilled ink.

Rafayel leans in, fingers lifting your chin, eyes simmering with something softer than his pride wants to admit.

“You kiss me like that,” he whispers, “and then run?” A breath, warm and trembling. “That’s cruel, cutie.”

He presses his forehead to yours. You can feel his small smile, pained, fond.

“Next time… don’t run from what you started. Stay, and let me do the rest.”

He hooks a finger under your chin and pulls you in with theatrical precision, kissing you with dramatic, intoxicating depth. His arm slips around your waist, holding you close like you’re the center of his world. When he finally breaks the kiss, his lips brush yours as he murmurs, “Kiss me like that again… and don’t you dare run.”

— 𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑

Your kiss lands against his cheek soft, fleeting and then you disappear like a startled spark.

Xavier blinks. Once.

His lips curl into a small, warm smile you almost never see the kind that settles into your bones.

He doesn’t chase you.

He simply stands, brushing off imaginary dust from his sleeve, and starts walking toward where you fled. Each step is measured, quiet, and unhurried. He looks like someone following the wind, not a person.

You hide behind a column, your heartbeat loud enough to echo.

He stops a respectful distance away.

“…Are you hiding?” he asks softly.

Not teasing, not mocking, genuinely gentle. His voice is dusk settling over the world.

“You don’t need to.”

You slowly peek from behind the column and meet his eyes steady, reliable, and warm. He doesn’t move. He lets you come to him.

And you do.

He lifts a hand, brushing a knuckle along your cheek with barely-there pressure.

“You startled yourself more than me,” he murmurs.

There’s something in his gaze, a quiet understanding that makes your chest warm.

“If you need me,” he says gently, “I’ll always come at your pace.”

He cups your face with both hands, drawing you in with a soft, trembling breath. His kiss starts gentle, almost shy, then slowly deepens with warmth, he’s too quiet to speak aloud. When he finally pulls back, cheeks flushed, he whispers, “Even if you run… I’ll always find you.”

— 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄

Your lips touch his for the shortest moment barely a kiss and then you vanish.

Zayne doesn’t tense, doesn’t jump, doesn’t even blink too fast.

He just straightens his posture, exhales, and mutters something that might be a quiet laugh.

Then he starts walking.

Not chasing. Following. His steps are steady, calm, almost silent the way he moves during missions, controlled and grounded.

You turn a corner, thinking you’ve gained distance.

You haven’t.

He’s already waiting there.

One shoulder leaned casually against the wall, arms folded, gaze steady like he predicted your escape route from the moment you sprinted.

“You ran fast,” he admits softly, “but not far.”

He steps toward you calm, composed, unhurried every movement precise and purposeful.

“You don’t have to run from me.” His hand rises, fingers brushing your jaw gently. “Or run to get my attention.”

Zayne tilts your chin just enough to meet his eyes.

“If you want a kiss… ask. I’ll always answer.”

He steps closer, his hand lifting to your jaw with that steady calm only he carries. He leans in without hurry, kissing you slow and deep, the kind of kiss that feels like warmth settling into your bones. When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours as he breathes, “If you want me… you never have to run.”

— 𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒

You kiss him quick, bold, mischievous and dart away.

Sylus freezes for half a second. Then a grin unfurls across his face, sharp and beautiful.

“Oh?” he hums, voice curling low. “You’re really going to try that on me?”

He doesn’t run, and doesn't even walk fast.

He simply appears wherever you aren’t expecting him.

You duck around a corner he’s already there, leaning against the wall, smirk shimmering.

You hide behind a door, his shadow slides across the floor a moment later.

You sprint down the hall he keeps pace effortlessly, voice lilting behind you:

“You’re predictable, sweetheart. I can read your steps like code.”

You whirl around, breathless and he’s practically nose-to-nose with you.

“How cute,” he murmurs, brushing a hair strand behind your ear. “You thought running would get rid of me?”

He cages you in with one arm above your head, smirk deepening.

“Next time you kiss me… don’t run. I want to kiss you back properly.”

He catches your waist and tugs you flush against him, lips brushing yours in a teasing whisper before he actually kisses you. The kiss is playful at first, then deepens with heat and a smile he tries to hide. He pulls back just enough to murmur, “Next time, sweetheart… I’ll be the one you chase.”

— 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁

Your kiss is gentle, affectionate, warm and then you bolt.

Caleb stops existing for a moment.

His hands go slack. His breath catches. His ears flush crimson.

Then something in his eyes sharpens soft possessiveness igniting like a spark catching dry leaves.

“Hey–! You can’t just run away!”

He chases you with his whole heart.

He nearly trips over his own feet catching up to you, breath uneven, eyes wide and shining with emotion he can’t quite hide.

When he grabs your wrist, his hold is gentle but unyielding like he’s terrified you’ll slip away if he lets go.

“You surprised me,” he says, voice trembling. Then, quieter, rawer: “I didn’t like when you ran.”

He steps closer, forehead nearly touching yours. His voice drops to a whisper, thick with something vulnerable and fiercely devoted.

“If you kiss me don’t run. Stay. I want you close.”

He pulls you in by the hips with a firm, possessive grip, kissing you hard enough to steal every breath you have left. His fingers slide into your hair, holding you there like he has no plans of letting go. When he finally breaks the kiss, voice low and rough, he murmurs, “Run again… and I’m carrying you back.”

[starkissedxav]

... WHICH COULD MEAN NOTHING

SYNOPSIS: rafayel compliments you and has a nickname for you and holds your hand and openly flirts with you... which could mean nothing

tags/warnings: rafayel x fem!reader, fluff, reader is both oblivious and refuses to accept love, lowkey yandere/stalker/manipulative!rafayel if you squint, reader thinks she's undeserving of love, happy ending, I think that's it! wc: 6.6k

a/n: hi hi!! I finally got around to working on a raf drabble that turned into This,, I hope u guys enjoy !! I liked playing around w the dynamic between reader and rafayel hehe I hope it comes across !!! thank u to my gorgeous wife tee and my beloved brother in arms emmy for proofreading !! PLEASE let me know what u guys think !! reading ur comments and tags genuinely keeps me going hehe,, okay enough yapping, I hope u enjoy :3

masterlist

It was the first exhibition you were working security for him. You hovered around him the entire night, smiling when he’d shoot you pleading glances. You shook your head at him and continued to scan the room. It was a nice event, you’d have to remember to compliment Thomas's work the next time you saw him. Everything went smoothly, and Rafayel was surprisingly cooperative the entire night. 

You bit back a smile when you watched Rafayel's eyes sparkle underneath the spotlights, explaining his pieces to every sponsor and guest as he made his way around the room. The thumping of your heart made your face flush as you watched him smile and gesture wildly towards the canvas, mimicking the brushstrokes he’d used to capture the raging sea. He stole a glance back at you, smirking a little when he caught you staring. You tore your gaze from him, blinking quickly and regaining composure as you stood a little straighter. 

 When the night came to a close you waited for a moment off to the side, laughing to yourself as Thomas all but shoved Rafayel to shake hands with the VIPs. After he finally finished, he made his way in front of the largest canvas in tonight's showing. You pushed yourself off the wall you'd been leaning against, standing next to him and looking at the painting alongside him. You clasped your hands behind your back, rocking slightly on your heels, glancing at him from the corner of your eyes.

“Did you know I started this piece a year ago?” His words echo slightly in the now empty room. The lights pointing straight at the painting cast beautiful shadows across his face. You only hum in response, reading the title card next to the painting. 

The Sea’s Love.

“Good thing it sold for the highest then,” you joke lightly, still focusing on the painting ahead of you. Rafayel turns his head slightly, gaze focusing on you. 

“When I first started painting it, I was fueled by anger and frustrations,” he states, voice neutral as he continues to watch you. “I was so angry, I felt like I would never be able to feel truly happy, like I’d never trust enough to be able to love again.” Rafayel pauses for a second, eyes shifting back to the painting you were so engrossed in. “I abandoned it after three days of working on it.”

Your brows furrowed slightly, focus finally tearing from the art to the artist beside you. 

“You said you finished this in six days though,” there’s genuine confusion on your face as you continue, “and you said you were inspired by feelings of hope and love, not anger.” 

Rafayel hummed, a soft smile playing on his lips as he leaned closer to you. “I did. Somewhere along the way I realized I could love again, but it doesn't mean those negative feelings just vanished overnight.” 

“So your anger and fears, they still live alongside the way you love and devote yourself to whoever your beloved may be.” It was less of a question and more of an observation. You cocked your head at an angle, eyes tracing every brushstroke. 

“Exactly Miss Bodyguard. Love is like the sea, filled with beauty and serenity, but also storms and chaos. That's what love truly is, messy and heartbreakingly wonderful."

It was nice to talk to Rafayel when he was in his element and not making your job next to impossible. You smiled at the explanation, nodding your head and turning to look at him, his eyes met yours. 

“That’s nice, I like that.” 

“I picked it up again a month ago. I found new inspiration, one that invoked the more ‘positive’ influence of the painting.” He’s quiet for a moment, eyes lingering on you enough to make your face flush, “right after I met you, actually.” His eyes never left yours, and the last couple words make heat rise quickly to your cheeks. The room felt too hot all of a sudden, and you were quick to break eye contact first. 

“I think they’re about to shut the lights off, let’s get you home before Thomas tries to pitch you a commission for a sponsor,” you smile, turning on your heel and taking a deep breath. So he picked up his painting about love and the complexity of it after he met you? So what? It doesn’t mean anything, just a coincidence, a one off chance that will probably never occur again. 

Rafayel smiles behind you, watching as you wipe your hands nervously on your pants. You were flustered, cute. He takes one last glance at the painting, focusing on the middle right, where he’d hidden your initials among brushstrokes.

 

It was hard for you to say no to people. Even harder when ‘people’ was Rafayel staring at you with wide pleading eyes, and you were saying ‘no’ to an all-expenses-paid trip to Italy to visit his aunt for the weekend. 

“Miss Bodyguard, what if EVER gets me on the flight there? Or my stalkers figure out where I’m staying and kidnap me? I’ll be defenseless and all alone and you’d be none the wiser!” Rafayel gives you his best pout, and damn it was good. 

“Rafayel, I promised my friends I’d go to dinner with them already,” you sighed, guilt creeping in your chest as your mind ran wild with possibilities. What if something bad did happen to him? What if he really did need you there?

“Fine, when you see on Linkon City News that world-famous artist Rafayel Qi was found dead on the Italian coast, you better not cry.” He huffs softly before getting up from his spot on the couch, heading to his back porch as the sun begins to set. 

You frowned at his words, quickly following him outside. “If you’re worried about security you could always hire someone else! I’m sure anyone would-”

“I don’t want anyone, I want you.” For a moment a flicker of something flashes in his eyes, it leaves before you can place it. Your stomach flips at his words, and you have to remind yourself he doesn’t mean those words in the way you secretly hoped he did. This was a professional relationship. As professional as a pouting diva artist and overworked hunter-turned-security detail can be, at least. 

Rafayel leans on the railing that heads to the beach, chin propped in the palm of his hand as he scowls. He knew you’d feel guilty if he sulked for long enough, and sulk he did. “I’m sure my dumb seagulls will miss me when I’m dead in three days time, we never finished our final choir act y’know.” 

You rolled your eyes, pulling your phone out and sending a profuse apology to your group chat. You can’t make brunch Saturday, the job you took as a side quest is requiring you to travel for an event this weekend. 

“Watcha writing? You should look up caskets near us, help me choose one since I’ll be dead in-” you cut him off by flicking his forehead. “Ow! What was that for? You’re supposed to protect me!” 

“You are so dramatic you know that?” Rafayel can’t help but smile, knowing he had you right where he wanted you. “Stop smiling, you ruined my weekend plans,” you furrowed your brows at him, looking out into the ocean as the sun slowly sunk deeper into its depths. The oranges and pinks never failed to take your breath away. 

“I promise I’ll be on my best behavior Miss Bodyguard.” 

You were going to kill Rafayel. You had to find him first, but then you were going to kill him. This was poor foresight in your end, you had to admit. You really should’ve put two and two together when Rafayel took you dress shopping and picked out only items that matched his suit. 

“I thought you were just visiting?” You’d asked, zipping up the dress and looking in the mirror.

“Well yes, but she has this charity event she’s putting on, told me to come and support the cause,” he mumbled, eyes glued to his phone as he scrolled mindlessly on social media, he smiled when he saw your moments posts.

“What’s she donating to?” You asked as you smoothed the dress out, fixing your hair a bit and twirling to see how it fit. 

“Combating human trafficking,” he replied, it wasn’t a total lie. 

“Oh that’s nice.”

The sound of the curtain opening made him snap his head up. He thought his nose might start bleeding soon.

“What do you think? I feel like maybe it’s too much? I’m just security so I shouldn’t be flashy in the first place,” you slowly shrunk into yourself, Rafayel was quick on his feet. 

“It’s perfect,” he breathed out, his fingers ghosting over your shoulders, itching to finally touch your skin. It took every fiber of his being to pull away, he swallowed hard before shaking his head. “You’re my security, you have to look the part, don’t want you embarrassing me with a boring outfit do you?”

You shook your head, smiling slightly as you caught your reflection in the mirror. “It is really pretty, isn’t it?” Your eyes were focused on the detail of the gown, Rafayel was focused on the details of your face. 

“Very beautiful,” he agreed softly. 

“Miss Y/N?” The voice pulled you out of your haze, a nervous smile on your lips as you focused back on the woman in front of you. 

“My apologies, what did you say?” Your eyes shift nervously around the room, hoping to find the familiar purple haired man you’d arrived with. 

“How long have you and Rafayel been together?” The question would’ve been harmless, had you actually been in a relationship with the artist. You were grateful for the amount of training the association made you do on remaining stoic under pressure. 

So with a gentle smile you replied, “only about a month,” the lady cooed at you, going on about young love. The second your eyes met with Rafayel’s across the room, you quickly excused yourself. Rafayel smiled at you, then he realized your eyes were narrowed at him, his smile seemed to grow when you roughly grabbed his arm. 

“Where the hell did you go?!” You hiss at him, making sure your voice wasn’t too loud. 

“Miss me already cutie? I was just giving the staff my piece for the auction, doing my part or whatever,” he smiled at you, trying to hide how much he loved how angry you looked. 

“Okay first of all do not call me that,” Rafayel pouts at your words. “Second of all I’m here as your security, to secure you, make sure you’re secure. How do you suppose I do that when you run off behind my back?” You smack him lightly with your purse, hitting him harder when he lets out a string of ‘ow's that cause guests to turn and look at the two of you. Both of you give them convincing enough smiles to turn away. 

“Third of all, why did some random lady ask me how long we’ve been together?” 

Rafayel’s cheeks turn a hue of pink as you ask your third question, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips as he looks at you with the softest eyes you’d ever seen. No, stay strong. 

“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry for running off. I just had to give them the canvas I donated or else Aunt Talia would have me gutted. I promise I won’t do it again cu- Miss Bodyguard,” he begrudgingly corrects himself, you thank him under your breath. “As for the last question, hypothetically, how angry would you be if I told my Aunt that you were my girlfriend and everyone accidentally found out? Hypothetically.” 

It wasn’t an accident, he’d asked Talia to put you down as his plus one, and next to your name on the guest list were the words ‘Rafayel’s muse.’

“Hypothetically you don’t pay me enough to fake date you,” you bite back, hoping he can’t see the flush on your cheeks or hear how fast your heart is beating. “Hypothetically,” you sigh out, pinching the bridge of your nose and closing your eyes for a moment before looking at Rafayel, “if you have a good enough reason for it then I won’t quit.”

“Well, if everyone knew you were my bodyguard they’d know to target you, and then without you I’d be a defenseless fish out of water.” You hate how quickly he replies, and you hate how much of a point he has. You can only grumble, muttering something about a raise before taking a flute of champagne, chugging it down, and slipping your arm into Rafayel’s. 

He pulls you closer to his side. You steal a glance at someone’s program, seeing that underneath the piece Rafayel had donated was your name, and next to it were the words ‘to my one and only muse.’ It must all be part of the ruse, the way he complimented you and stole glances at you throughout the night was just to sell the act. 

And when he takes the heels off your feet and carries you from the cab to your hotel room, you take it as him just being nice. The way his eyes linger on you for a second too long when you say goodnight at the door probably means nothing. 

You stare up at the hotel ceiling, repeating it to yourself until you can convince yourself of it. 

It means nothing. There’s nothing there. 

You wish the butterflies in your stomach and the thumping against your rib cage got the memo. 

Rafayel takes you into the city the next day, buying souvenirs for the two of you. His hand brushes against yours more times than you can count, you hope he doesn’t notice the way your breath catches in your throat. (he does).

When the two of you arrive in Linkon again you turn to say goodbye to Rafayel, finding him already looking at you. 

“I really enjoyed being with you this weekend,” his words catch you off guard, mouth slightly agape as you scramble to find the meaning behind his words. There’s no way he means fake dating you, that would never happen. You smile at him and nod in agreement. 

“So did I, I’ll see you around,” you reply, not thinking too much of it, you can’t let yourself. Before you can turn to hail a cab, his hand envelopes your wrist, his mouth opens slightly, like he’s going to say something. 

“What is it?” You ask, scanning his face for a moment and ensuring nothing was wrong. He’s quiet for a moment, still holding you in place. 

How does he stop you from leaving? How does he keep you with him for as long as possible? 

“Let me give you a ride home, airport cabs are way too expensive,” he finally says, his voice as relaxed as it always was. You want to punch yourself for thinking he would say anything else. 

“It’s okay Rafayel, if you’re that worried about my finances just give me a raise,” you tease, waving goodbye and easily slipping out of his grasp. You feel your chest tighten as you close the door behind you, letting out a small sigh. Fake dating for a weekend didn’t mean anything, him falling asleep on your shoulder during the plane ride was nothing. 

There’s nothing there, you remind yourself. You bite the inside of your cheek as you stare at the clouds, as much as you wished there was, there wasn’t. 

You needed to go out on a date. It was starting to get ridiculous. So you did what any sensible person does: bought bottles of wine and invited your friends over to curate your dating profile. Hours later through flushed cheeks and barely contained giggles, it was done. Now all that was left for you to do was swipe on whoever you liked and hope you’d match. 

It didn’t take long for you to realize that half the people on there only really wanted one night stands and nothing serious. With most of them starting off with terrible pick up lines and the rest jumping straight to “dtf?” You were seriously giving up hope, until finally you came across someone who actually struck up a conversation. 

Two weeks later you found yourself fidgeting with your outfit, changing for the third time and fixing your hair one more time. You jumped as your phone buzzed on your bathroom counter top. 

[incoming video call from Rafayel]

You answered on the second ring, phone still on the counter with only the top half of your head showing as you fixed your mascara. 

“Hey Miss Bodyguard wanna come over? I need your opinion on this art piece I’m working on,” he pans the camera over to a colorful canvas before re-centering his face, you can see his brows furrowing as he watches your actions. “What are you doing?” 

“Sorry Rafayel, I can’t today I have plans already,” you blink a couple times before finally feeling satisfied, fluffing your hair and grabbing your phone. “I don't think I'm qualified to give opinions on art, but I can swing by tomorrow after work?” You watch as Rafayel’s eyes widen, his mouth opens slightly as he stares at you. “Hello?” 

“Do I have an event I didn’t know about?” Rafayel questions, swallowing hard as he blinks rapidly, drinking in your appearance through his phone screen. God, you looked gorgeous. 

“No, no, just going on a date is all,” you mumble, embarrassed beyond belief as your cheeks heat up.

“A date?” Rafayel feels his world stop, blood going cold. 

“Yeah figured I should put myself out there y’know? It’s been a while and I’ve been- anyway whatever, good luck with your painting!” You smile brightly before hanging up. Rafayel thinks his phone might crack from how tightly he was holding it. You absolutely could not go on that date. 

You needed this date, you had to get over your feelings for Rafayel. Taking a deep breath you finally exited your apartment, locking your door and heading for the cafe you’d agree to meet at. 

When you arrived at the cafe you sent your date a quick message, telling him you’d be seated in a booth near the back corner. You tapped your fingers against the table, looking around the room as you checked your phone. It’s fine, people run late all the time. 

Ten more minutes passed, and you figured it wouldn’t hurt to order your drink while you waited. You stood nervously in line and glanced at the door with every ring of the bell, heart sinking when it wasn’t your date. The thumping of your heart slowly subdued, and you felt silly for getting your hopes up so much. 

With slumped shoulders you slid back into the booth, checking your phone one more time as you sipped on your drink. Nothing. The door opened again, the small bell on top of the door rang as your head shot up. 

It wasn’t your date. You sipped your drink slowly, opening your phone and staring at the last text your date had sent you. 

‘See you soon! :)’

It’d been thirty minutes already, you’d texted him with no response. Just your luck you get ghosted on your first date back on the dating scene. With a heavy heart and a bruised ego you threw your now empty cup in the trash can, stepping into the warm summer air and taking a deep breath. Maybe it was a sign.

You didn't move when you got in your car, staring blankly at your steering wheel for a moment. The sound of your phone vibrating made your heart rate pick up, quickly checking the screen. 

[incoming call from Rafayel]

You take a deep breath, muttering a small prayer under your breath before answering. 

“Hello?” 

“You know it’s terrible etiquette to answer your phone while on a date right?,” you can hear his teasing tone, it makes your stomach churn. 

“It uh- ended early,” you lie, “what’s up?” 

Rafayel grins at your words, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder as he places an ice pack over his knuckles, walking back to the couch. 

“I ordered way too much takeout, what are the odds you wanna swing by and grab some? We can put on that movie you told me about last week,” Rafayel adjusts the bouquet of flowers he got you during his side quest earlier. 

You’re quiet for a moment, this was definitely not going to help squash your bubbling feelings for the artist. But you were starving, and you didn’t want to wallow in self-pity just yet, not when your hair had turned out so nicely. 

“Did you finish your painting already?”

“I can work on it tomorrow,” he huffs out, “c’moooooon cutie, come over and help me finish this food, please?” 

“I’ll be there in 15,” you reply, biting back your smile as you shake your head and hang up. 

You unlock his front door with the key he’d given you, calling out to make sure he knew it was you entering. Within seconds he rounded the corner, a smile on his face as he greeted you, clad in a hoodie and shorts. The sight never failed to make your heartbeat race. 

“You look beautiful y’know,” Rafayel says softly after the two of you finish eating. You’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch, your eyes are glued to the TV stuck on a loading screen. “He’s an idiot to not have realized what a catch you are, cutie.” 

You don’t have enough fight in you to protest against the pet name, you know he doesn’t mean it romantically. You're too emotionally drained to think about the fact that you never even told him how the date went

“Thanks Raf,” you say softly, had anything been playing he wouldn’t have heard it. 

“I’m Raf now?” The man grins, cheeks dusted pink as he repeats the nickname. You can’t help but roll your eyes at him. 

“Don’t make me take it back,” you groan as he scoots closer to you, leaning his head on your shoulder and letting a content sigh leave his lips. Maybe it was because you already felt vulnerable and Rafayel just so happened to be there for you. Maybe it was because he handed you a bouquet of flowers when you walked in the door. You don’t know why you say it, but you do. 

“I should’ve known better than to think I’d find someone on a fucking dating app,” you scoff, laughing slightly as your gaze settles in your lap. Rafayel sits up straighter, a sympathetic smile on his face. 

“Hey,” his voice is feathery, his touch even more so as he lifts your chin for you to look at him, “dating apps are stupid, I could’ve told you that for free.” He smiles, you can’t help but reciprocate it. 

“You’re amazing, you know that? Anyone would be lucky to have you,” his face is closer to you than you ever remember it being, “I would be lucky to have you.” There’s no playful undertone in his words and no pout on his lips as he stares at you. His eyes flicker down to your lips for a fraction of a second. 

“Rafayel,” you breathe out, eyelashes fluttering as everything becomes too much. What was happening? Could this mean-

The sound of the movie abruptly starting makes you jump, the sudden realization of how close you were has you clearing your throat, scooting away from the man you so desperately wish to be closer with. 

He almost kissed you. You almost kissed him. He was there for you after a terrible date, with flowers and your favorite food. Which could mean nothing, and for the sake of your already aching heart, you tell yourself it does mean nothing. Because it was Rafayel and you were just, well, you. 

It was hard to quell your feelings after that night. It was harder for you to ignore how pretty Rafayel was, how charming his smile was and how well you and him got along. It was damn near impossible to ignore just how much you liked him. 

You tried to brush off his offhand comments, immediately deflecting and not allowing yourself the pleasure of entertaining the idea. This was Rafayel. The most handsome man you’d ever seen in your life, he was funny and kind and caring and he did not have a thing for you. 

“Hey cutie, what do you say we grab a bite after this?” He winks at you during an exhibition, you want to kill the butterflies in your stomach. 

“I can’t, sorry Rafayel,” you say simply, giving him a small smile and hoping he’d drop it. He doesn’t, of course he doesn’t. 

“C'mon! We can go to the place you’ve been wanting to try! I saw your moments post about it,” he narrows his eyes at you, crossing his arms and leaning forward. 

You take a small step back. Rafayel wants to grab you by your waist, he digs his fingers into the fabric of his shirt to stop himself. 

“I already have some food I have to finish up, maybe next time?” You smile nervously, palms already sweaty from how intently he was looking at you. His purple bangs falling gently across his forehead, you fight the urge to brush them out of his eyes. 

Rafayel only spoke to you again when parting ways after the exhibition, turning around and causing you to almost bump into his chest. 

“Y’know I’m here for you, right? Whenever you want for whatever you need,” the words catch you by surprise, making your heart thump louder in your ears as you smile at him. 

“O-okay thanks,” you reply, moving to walk past him, he grabs your wrist, staring at you like he was going to say more. He opens his mouth before closing it again, shoulders slumping and letting out a small sigh. He lets go of your wrist, savoring the way the warmth of your skin felt on his. “Let me know when you get home, Miss Bodyguard,” he smiles softly. 

“Okay,” you breathe out, eyes lingering on his lips for a second too long. You turn on your heel quickly, the mantra you’d always repeat to yourself when it came to Rafayel already looping in your mind. 

It probably means nothing. The look in his eyes wasn’t anything, it couldn’t be. Your heart tugs the further away from him you get, God, you wish it did. 

You decided you were going to be brave. After almost a year of debate, you were going to take a leap of faith. 

With shaky fingers you hover over the dial button, taking a deep breath before tapping your screen and putting the phone to your ear. It only rings once before you hear the same voice that always makes your stomach flip. 

“Well to what do I owe the honor of you calling me first, Miss Bodyguard?” Rafayel smirks on the other line, leaning back in his seat as he puts the phone on speaker, mindlessly twirling a paintbrush between his fingers. 

“I need to ask you something, and I want you to promise that you won’t judge me or laugh at me or- are you already giggling?” You furrow your brows, nerves slowly replaced by that familiar feeling of enamored frustration only Rafayel managed to bring out. 

“You can’t tell someone to not laugh at something, everyone knows that just makes them want to laugh,” he states, “but fiiine, I won’t laugh.” 

“Do piercings hurt a lot? I know you have a bunch and I’ve been wanting to get one forever and I’ve been so scared but I really want one.” You rush your words out, pacing around your living room before staring out your window and flopping backwards on your couch. 

“You thought I would laugh because you’re… scared to get a piercing?” Rafayel cocks his head slightly, pausing his movements as he sets his brush down, grabbing his phone and smiling softly. He can picture you already, your face is probably warm, nose scrunched and lips pouting as you look to your side in embarrassment, shrugging your shoulders. 

“Well, yeah,” you mutter, nose scrunched and face hot as you stare away from your phone, as if he could see you through the camera. 

“What kind of piercing do you wanna get? The pain depends on the placement but also everyone’s pain tolerance is different.” He hears you hum on the other end of the line. 

“I wanted to get my nose pierced, is that lame?” Your face is hot, embarrassed to be so scared of something so many people did. 

“You’re gonna look great with it! It shouldn’t hurt too much, when are you gonna get it?” Rafayel has to take deep breaths as his imagination runs wild. The thought of you with your nose pierced, he closes his eyes for a moment, willing himself to calm down as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. 

“I don’t know, I was kinda thinking of getting it soon, rip the band aid off,” you smile, sitting up from your position on the couch and checking the time. “Are you busy right now?” 

“I’m never busy when it comes to you,” Rafayel replies easily, wiping his paint stained hands on a nearby rag before standing up. 

“Do you think you could come with me? To get the piercing?” You’re covering half your face with one hand out of embarrassment. You’re fully prepared for him to laugh at you, say ‘hell no!’ and hang up on you. Okay, that might be a little extreme. 

“I’m already on my way, cutie,” he replies, you can hear the jingling of his keys before you let out a small, ‘okay’ and hang up. You stare at the floor for a moment, then a wide smile breaks onto your face. You break out into maniacal giggles, burying your face in your hands before biting your bottom lip. 

Rafayel knocks on your door in 15 minutes time, hair falling perfectly and cologne wafting into your senses the moment you open the door. You look up at him with a shy smile, having never noticed just how built the man was. He crowds your space as he leans against the door frame, smiling and holding his hand out for you to take. 

“Are you ready?” He asks, you nod, hesitantly putting your hand in his. You ignore the way your whole body reacts to the simple touch. You’re too in your head to notice the way his face goes red as his hand envelopes yours. 

Rafayel was enjoying this way too much for your liking, but you were too nervous to make any remarks as he walked into the piercing shop with your clammy hand in his. 

“Hey what can I help you guys with today?” The man asked, looking between the two of you, “matching tattoos maybe?” He grins, you can’t help but let out a nervous chuckle. 

“Maybe next week, right cutie?” He chuckles when your eyes go wide and you elbow him. 

“I wanted to get a nose piercing,” you tell the man, and two consent forms later you’re seated in the piercing chair, fidgeting with your t-shirt nervously as you talk to Rafayel. 

“It’ll look good right? I won’t look stupid with it?” Rafayel smiles at you and nods. 

“You’re gonna look stunning, Miss Bodyguard,” he mumbles, walking from his position across the room to your side. “Who knows, you might even inspire me to paint more pieces about you.”

You smile at him, then the words process in your mind. “What do you mean ‘more’?”

“Alright! I’m gonna go ahead and mark where the piercing will go and let me know if you like the placement!” The piercer walks in, saving Rafayel from having to answer your question. Reluctantly you tear your gaze from him, smiling at the piercer and sitting still as she marks your nose and hands you a mirror to check. You nod in approval, handing the mirror back as she preps the area. 

Rafayel is staring at you intently, your heart is racing, fear coursing through your veins as the piercer turns to grab the needle. 

“Can you hold my hand?” You ask quietly, Rafayel all but jumps at the opportunity, intertwining your fingers with his, like he was always meant to be by your side. 

“Alright, you ready?” She asks and you nod, eyes focused on Rafayel’s pretty blue-pink ones. “Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth for me.” You do as you're told, feeling slightly embarrassed by how sweaty your palm is against Rafayel’s.

“Deep breath,” he says softly, eyes glancing between your gaze and the needle, squeezing your hand as she punctures the cartilage. “Good girl,” Rafayel praises, thumb stroking the back of your hand in soothing circles as your eyes water slightly. You blink rapidly, a stray tear slipping out as they insert the small stud in place of the needle. 

“Alright you’re all done!” The piercer smiles at you, letting you know to head up front to pay. You thank her quickly, turning to Rafayel who still had a tight grip on your hand. 

“How do I look?” You smile at him. Rafayel doesn’t say anything for a second, eyes scanning your features as his thumb swipes the stray tear from your cheek. 

“Beautiful,” he whispers, squeezing your hand before helping you out of the chair. He’s quick to beat you to the register, immediately handing the receptionist his card before you have the chance to protest. 

You’re too flustered by his compliment to fight back, opting instead to simply thank him as he places his card back in his wallet. Rafayel doesn’t say anything, his hand slotting back into yours. Both of your faces are burning hot, with neither of you addressing it until your hand leaves his as he holds the car door open for you. 

“That wasn’t as terrible as I thought it was gonna be!” You gush as Rafayel slips into the driver's seat. He watches from the corner of his eye the way you stare at your reflection in the sun visor mirror.

“You did a great job! My brave girl,” he says smoothly, left hand on the steering wheel and the other coming to squeeze your arm gently. Your body is on fire at the small contact, and you’re having a hard time rationalizing this into nothing. 

He holds your hand during your piercing, tells you he’s painted pieces inspired by you, that could mean nothing. But now he’s calling you his girl? Your mind is scrambling and you can only land on one conclusion. 

“Rafayel?” 

“Cutie?” He purrs back, he can all but see everything in your head clicking into place, his heart thumping against his chest as your gaze bores into your lap. 

“Do you like me?” You check to see if the passenger door is unlocked, in case he laughs in your face and you have to jump out of this moving vehicle. You think about the logistics of it, you’d most likely survive, mainly surface injuries, you’ve fought off hordes of wanderers, you could take jumping out of a car. What you couldn’t take, is the artist you’ve been crushing on for a year calling you delusional. 

“I thought that much was obvious, I’ve been flirting with you since I met you,” Rafayel lets out a deep chuckle, turning to look at you briefly. Your mouth is agape, eyes wide as you stare at him in disbelief.

“What?!” You shriek. Rafayel only laughs harder. 

“Did you think I just went around complimenting everybody? Calling people cutie and my muse?” Your silence makes Rafayel’s mouth drop. “Are you serious?!” He exclaims, parking the car in front of your apartment building before turning to face you fully. 

“I didn’t want to assume things! I just rationalized everything that happened,” you defended, “I just kept telling myself it meant nothing and you were just a flirty person!” 

“So when I gave you a key to my house?” 

“I’m your bodyguard so you gave it to me for security purposes,” you explained, and Rafayel had to hold back his laughter. 

“I told you there’s no one in my life that I’d want with me other than you, and that’s the conclusion you came to?” Your face burned as you tried (and failed) to defend yourself. “Okay and the time I told you that you were the reason I started painting with lighter tones and images of hope and love instead of despair?"

“You said that you did that after you met me, not that-” saying it out loud makes it seem obvious, embarrassment coursing through your veins as you realize the mental gymnastics you’d been doing all year. 

“I practically professed my love for you the night you got stood up, how did you rationalize that?” His head cocks slightly, a smug smirk on his face as he wonders what radical conclusion you’d landed on. 

“That you’d never have feelings like that for someone like me,” you shrug your shoulders, not daring to meet his eyes as you finally come clean. The true reason you’d brushed his every move off, the one thing driving the mantra you’d always told yourself. 

“Someone like you?” Rafayel repeats, his heart clenches at your words. He doesn’t say anything else, the restraint he had for the past year is thrown out the window as he reaches over the center console and angles your face towards him. 

“Do you like me?” Rafayel asks, his breathing erratic as he stares into your eyes. You give him a small nod, about to say something else before you’re cut off with his lips on yours. You tense for a moment, body catching up before your brain does as you melt into the kiss, hands weaving in the soft purple tresses at the nape of his neck. You whimper slightly when Rafayel pulls away and nips at your bottom lip. 

“Please tell me you can’t rationalize that,” he mumbles, you laugh, letting your head rest on his shoulder. 

“If I try hard enough-” Rafayel takes your face in one hand, lifting it up and kissing you once more, careful to not hit your freshly pierced nose. 

“I want you,” he mumbles against your lips, “you drive me crazy– you’re the only one I want– I want you all to myself, as my lover and as my everything,” he punctuates each statement between kisses, slowly turning rougher as you move in sync with him, tugging gently on his hair. 

When he pulls away, the only thing connecting the two of you is a string of saliva between your lips, which Rafayel quickly wipes with his thumb, licking it clean. You bite back a moan. 

“Am I clear enough now?” He smirks. You gulp, nodding. 

“Do you wanna- we should probably- come on let’s head inside,” you finally sputter out, quickly opening the car door and heading to your apartment. Rafayel is hot on your heels, relief filling his body when you turn around and shoot him a shy smile as you unlock your door. 

Rafayel crowds your space the rest of the day, kissing every inch of you, telling and showing you just how badly he’s been wanting you. He whispers sweet words to you as he brushes your hair out of face, his fingertips trace your sweaty skin, eyes staring at you like you were the most precious work of art ever created…. which could mean nothing. 

But you know better now.  It means the feelings you’d been shoving aside this whole time were reciprocated ten fold. It means he loves you, with every fiber of his being.

taglist: @hirayalia @violasepals @txtworlddom @mrs-lixiaqin @pjselee @luvyizhou ask to be added!

[mwphisto]

LaDs men when their child only wants their mama.

Since I can't stop thinking about this, I'm going to give in and ramble about it for a little bit...

Xavier should have expected this, honestly. You're just so soft and warm and comforting. It's only natural that his little boy would be just as drawn to you as he was. You're his safe space, so it's only natural that you'd be his son's safe space too.

"I think he's getting his 2-year molars in. My poor baby has swollen cheeks." You kiss his head, hair a soft blonde just like his daddy. He had fallen asleep on you after whining for nearly an hour. The pain medicine finally kicking in and letting the toddler on your lap slip into blissful sleep. "Should we take him to the doctor?"

“No, not yet at least. It’s normal for him to get puffy when he cuts new teeth.” Your fingers run through his hair softly, soothingly. His head moving with the rise and fall of your chest. Xavier sat down by your feet, careful not to move the cushions too much and disturb the baby’s much needed rest.

“Do you want me to move him to his bed?” 

“He just fell asleep a few minutes ago, not yet.” You grin at your husband, noticing the small pout on his lips. Xavier had gotten much better with his jealousy once your son was born. He was more than willing to share you if it meant your son would smile. But, ever since your boy entered a “Mama or nothing.” Phase, Xavier has been struggling to get you alone. 

All it took was a flash of his big eyes – the same color as his mama’s – and Xavier melted. He didn’t think it was possible to give in so easily, but his son proved him wrong every day. “Then can we move this to the bed? I wanna snuggle you too.”

And you? You’ve found it incredibly hard to deny Xavier and your darling son of anything. Your heart has become incredibly weak because of them, your sweet boy had his daddy’s pout. “Alright, fine, but you have to carry us both.”

Xavier nearly leapt off the couch. 

Rafayel had been convinced that his little girl would be all about him. You know, since humans like to claim that boys are more drawn to their mama and girls are more drawn to their daddy. Well? Your little girl proved him very, very wrong. 

Your sweet little princess – only a year and a half old – wanted mama and mama only. 

Her first word had been mama, her first crawling attempt had been to mama, her first steps? Right into mama’s arms. She was a mama’s girl through and through. Rafayel was a tad hurt honestly, because he thought he’d be sharing himself with you. Not fighting with his baby for a chance to hug her mama.

“I mean really, who does she think she is?”

“Your daughter.” you snort, peeking over her little shoulder. She’s perched on your lap, chubby arms folded and signature glare on her little chubby cheeks. No DNA test needed, she was Rafayel’s daughter through and through. 

“I really can’t give mama a kiss?” he bargains, the furrow in his brows relaxing as he stares at his little girl’s face. His eyes, her mama’s hair and nose, his smile. God she was so perfect, it made it even harder to try and put up a fight. She’d always win. 

“Yuck!” her new favorite word to use against her daddy, one that you couldn’t help but laugh at because he was the one that taught it to her when trying new baby purees months back. That one word carried weight, considering she couldn’t get any of her thoughts out fully yet. Too little to string together creative insults, she’d get there though, he was sure. 

“Seriously! What if I give you a kiss too?” he puckered his lips, inching closer just to see his daughter burst into giggles and push back against her mama’s chest. “Yuck!” 

“Too bad!” Your laughter mingled with hers as Rafayel grabbed her little head and placed tens, if not hundreds, of kisses all over her chubby features. Not relenting until her giggles nearly went silent from how hard she was laughing. “I win!” 

The soft kiss that landed on your lips was sudden enough to startle you, eyes wide as you glance down at your baby’s shocked face. 

Zayne never thought he’d see the day where he was genuinely battling his four year old daughter over your attention. She was the spitting image of you, for one.

Why didn't he think she’d inherit your stubbornness? I mean, seriously, she was your identical twin. Save for the fact that she had his eye color, it looked like Zayne didn’t even partake in the creation of her.

“I just want to talk to mama for a bit, baby. Please?” He was trying not to frown, but you were leaning against the kitchen counter trying to stifle your giggles. Your daughter, however, stood her ground. Blanket in one hand and snowman plush in the other, inching ever closer to your legs. Your little velcro baby for sure. 

“No! Mama said she would read me some stories in my bed.” You had promised that, had even been on your way to her room when Zayne got home. Your poor husband looked exhausted and in much need of your love.

Your daughter, however, was not backing down. 

Zayne tried not to sigh, he wasn’t frustrated at her of course. The whole display was cute, he loved the fact that your daughter adored you so thoroughly. But, the need to be in your arms was something he very much craved too.

No room for little legs and arms to bat him out of your embrace or kick him in the stomach for getting too close to her beloved mama. 

“How about I read you your stories and then I go help daddy. Does that sound like a good compromise?” She’d be asleep half way through the first story anyways. “No! Cause then you’ll leave me alone!” Asleep in her bed, it was nearly ten at night after all, she had school in the morning.

“You’re a big girl, my love.” Zayne crouched down, watching her lips quiver as she looked between the two of you. Dammit, his resolve was crumbling right before his very eyes. “How about mommy reads to you in mommy and daddy’s bed?” 

Zayne ignored the way your eyebrow raised, but the lip quivering stopped and her glassy eyes blinked away. He could survive sharing your presence if it meant his little girl could sleep comfortably. “Oh-kay I guess that works, daddy.” 

Oh yeah, she was your child alright. It didn’t take much at all for Zayne to give in.

Sylus felt bad, honestly. Who would have thought your eight month old twins – one boy and one girl – would be so thoroughly attached to their mama. I mean, he really thought the two of them would pick their person. Your daughter would gravitate towards him and your son would gravitate towards you or vice versa. 

But, no. Both of your babies wanted their mama and their mama only. 

“C’mon, hey!” You were lounging on the couch, your little boy sitting next to you while Sylus held your little girl out in front of him. Her little legs kicked wildly as she grinned at you. Her head turned away from her daddy to just beam at you. Your son was doing the same, lips curled in a toothless smile as big red eyes peered up at you. 

“They don’t even know I exist.” Sylus sighed, but there is a grin pulling at his lips as he glances between the three of you. Two little humans, a perfect mix of you and him, who were completely and utterly infatuated with their mama. Just like their daddy. 

“Yes they do, Sy. They’re just a bit milk obsessed.” You laugh, rubbing your baby boy’s cheek fondly as Sylus relents and offers your baby girl to you. “Milk or no milk, they’d be this obsessed with you, kitten. You’re their whole world.”

You’re surprised to see a small pout on his lips, your eyes shifting between your grinning little girl and your husband. “You really think so?” You wonder softly, bringing her face to yours so you can nuzzle her nose and kiss her chunk cheeks before settling her on your lap. “I don’t think, I know.” 

“Never in my life did I think I’d have to battle two eight month olds – nevermind my own babies.” He stops to fake glare at your son, watching his little head of silver hair turn to look up at his daddy before quickly looking back at you, rocking back and forth on his butt while making a grabby fist towards you so you’d pick him up.

“For your attention, kitten. I mean really, the leader of Onychinus has met his match. Two sets of little fists with chubby dimples where their knuckles should be have brought me to my damn knees.” 

You laugh, dragging your little boy onto your lap and kissing the top of his head. Smiling fondly at his little giggle. “You met your match a long time ago, Sy. We just created two more.” Well, he certainly couldn't deny that. You, of course, were his first weakness. The two little creatures on your lap were his second. 

“You’ve weakened me, kitten. Whatever will we do?”  “Hmm, maybe we can make some more?” 

Caleb was just a tad bit butt-hurt when your two and a half year old son entered his “nobody, not even dada, can come within five feet of mama” phase. 

Coming home from work, for example, would lead to tears running down his chubby face when you and Caleb shared a hug and a kiss. Going to bed meant you would sleep in your son’s tiny toddler bed until he was in a deep slumber before sneaking back into Caleb’s arms. Until he woke up and wiggled his way between you both.

It wasn’t as if your little boy disliked him, he was his dad after all. It was just that he was overprotective of his mama. Exactly like his father. If he didn’t have Caleb’s eyes and smile, you’d still be able to tell his DNA ran through that little boy’s veins with the way he obsessed over you. “C’mon bud, I can’t give mama a kiss?” 

Your son clung to you, squeezing just a little harder as Caleb inched forward. You tried your best not to laugh, holding your boy tightly in your arms as Caleb approached like you were both wounded stray cats. “No! Nuh-uh!” His mama’s stubbornness was definitely inherited. “What about a hug? Kiss on the cheek? A high five?”

He was desperate. 

Caleb felt like he was being deprived of his own wife. But dammit, the little boy in your embrace was melting his heart regardless of what he did. “No! Leave!” He bellowed, face contorted in grumpiness as you tried to stifle a laugh. “Hey now, that’s not nice, baby. Be nice to dada, say no thank you.” Caleb nearly choked on air. “No thank you?” 

But you only grinned, “I gotta teach him manners while also teaching him to stand his ground.” Caleb frowned at that, you weren’t exactly wrong with that idea. “Can I give my buddy a hug and a kiss?”

Caleb was nearly a foot away now, and you felt your son’s head peek upwards at the question. A hesitant little nod shook his head as he used one arm to reach for Caleb.

Maybe it was a little trick, because Caleb used that opportunity to hug you both, kissing his baby boy’s head as you rested your cheek on his shoulder. “We’ll get there eventually.” 

“Maybe we can make a ‘sharing mama’ schedule.” 

[tojicide]

steal my girl! ─── when the lads men see you, their girlfriend, out in public with another man.

♥︎ zayne, xavier, rafayel, sylus, caleb ✩ genre: fluff, lighthearted jealousy au, slice of life

note. this is VERY old and i can’t even remember what operant conditioning is so i likely used it incorrectly. i also forgot that rafayel doesn’t like the pet name “baby” when making this so let’s all ignore that piece of information…

[brattysiren]

⋆ . IT’S NOT MY SWEATER, MC

flufftober 3rd of october

synopsis: you think you’ve been wearing his sweater, turns out it’s not his

pairing: zayne x reader, sylus x reader, rafayel x reader, xavier x reader, caleb x reader

note: one is based of a tik too I’ve seen hehe. also I’m into the slice of life type of vibe recently

zayne

Your eyebrows scrunch together when you notice Zayne’s eyes wandering on you in a rather judgemental way for the fifth time. You’re side-eyeing him, deciding to abandon your current chore and stare back at him with a testing hand on your hip.

“What?” you pull up the sleeve of the sweater you’re wearing, becoming impatient with the overly long sleeves.

“Isn’t that… Greyson’s sweater?” Zayne pauses momentarily. “Why are you wearing it?”

You almost jump out of your skin upon hearing it. Thinking you’re being cute wearing your boyfriend’s clothes but turns out you just robbed a guy.

“Huhhhh? I thought it was yours!” you swear that after you say this, Zayne’s facial expression relaxes and he seems content and at ease. Much different energy compared to the last two hours. You almost want to slap him for not mentioning it sooner.

The doctor chuckles, amused at your reaction. “Did you steal it from the hospital?”

You scoff, now two hands firmly placed on your hips. “I didn’t steal it from the hospital you silly man. I didn’t steal anything at all. It was a genuine mistake.”

“Poor Greyson had to walk out into the storm in a t-shirt…” he teases, incapable of hiding his small smile.

“You’re making me feel so bad. I’m being so serious right now, Zayne.” a whine escapes your lips.

Ignoring your claims, he continues. “… All he had was a t-shirt to keep him warm.”

“STOP.”

He laughs again, advancing towards you with his arms instinctively wrapping around your waist. You’re being stubborn, refusing to look at him and when you do, it’s with squinty eyes and a raised eyebrow. With your head turned to the side, he takes the chance to lean down to kiss your cheek, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“Next time…” he lifts up his head, smiling when he finally catches your gaze. As if you can resist. “Make sure it’s mine. I’ll be very happy then.”

sylus

You’ve been left alone at Onychinus’ base, awaiting Sylus’ return. Feeling cold, you mindlessly grabbed a black sweater that was laying around on one of the couches. Your boyfriend owns many clothes and many colognes. So you didn’t think much about it when you didn’t recognise the fragrance attached to his sweater.

When Sylus is back, he’s sure to greet you as warmly as he possibly can. Kisses, hugs, words of affirmation, a gift – basically whatever your beautiful self needs and wants.

“Hmm…” he hums as a response to your new article of clothing.

You glance at him with a curious glimmer in your eyes, nervously smoothing out the fabric with your hands. “I got cold, I hope you don’t mind.” You’re not even sure why you explained yourself. It’s not the first time you wore something of his. He made it very clear what’s his is yours.

His hands slide into the pockets of his expensive trousers and he shrugs. “Are you hungry?”

He’s genuinely unbothered, but very out of character for him not to say that “he’s liking what he’s seeing” or something like that when you wear something of his.

After dinner, you pluck on the collar of the sweater again, taking in the scent of the perfume left behind.

“Whatever cologne this is, it smells so good it’s insane.” it’s a hint for Sylus to wear it more often but he’s just sitting there, looking as cheeky as ever.

“Is that so? Then I’ll be sure to let Kieran know.”

Your lips part slightly and you pause for a second. “Is this his sweater?”

“Took you long enough sweetie.” he stands up from his seat to come closer to you. His hand reaches to cradle the back of your head while planting a kiss onto your forehead. “Let’s find something better for you to wear or you don’t have to wear anything at all. Your choice.”

rafayel

You can hear two familiar voices coming from your boyfriend’s art room. Your nap was amazing but it’s time to wake up and leave the bedroom. You grab a glass of water from the kitchen, shivering from the sudden Autumn breeze. You exhale deeply from slight irritation when you notice the open window that’s welcoming the cold, crisp air inside.

Seeing a cute, taupe sweater thrown over on one of Rafayel’s luxurious couches, you don’t overthink it and put it on. As soon as it’s on your body, you give yourself a small hug, grateful that the sweater was just worn as there’s still some heat embracing you. But wait – before you are too satisfied. You pinch the fabric on the chest area, bringing it to your nose. You inhale the sweet, floral scent of a woman’s fragrance. You are so convinced this is definitely Rafayel’s top, you’ve seen him wear this colour so many times.

Your boyfriend and Thomas appear from the art room and both of them are watching you inspect the clothing. Thomas has become such a comfortable figure in your life that he’s heard you and Rafayel bicker many times. He usually just sighs and leaves.

“Hey, you’re awake.” the artist tilts his head to the side, not mentioning anything yet. But he can tell you’re unimpressed.

“This smells like a woman’s perfume.” you comment, your eyes boring into his mirthful ones.

Thomas clears his throat. “Yes, it’s most likely my wife’s.”

Your eye contact is broken and the attention darts straight to Thomas, absolutely horrified at what you just heard.

The artist crosses his arms, letting out a chuckle. “Aw cutie, you thought it was mine?”

You shoot the damn Lemurian a look before spluttering apologies and returning the sweater back to Thomas. “I’m sorry, I did think it was his. I think I need to go back to sleep.”

Everything is fine, forgiven, dismissed. Very soon after, you’re left alone with your man again.

Rafayel takes off his cardigan, hanging it around your shoulders. He smiles before leaning in to kiss you on the lips. “Don’t worry, mine always smells like you.”

xavier

You feel cozy with your fluffy socks and Xavier’s soft sweater on. The radiators are on and your favourite movie is ready to be played. You’re excited to cuddle up to your boyfriend and eat the snacks he bought especially for you. But right before you’re about to settle yourself beside him, his eyes focus on you and he shakes his head.

“Take it off, I don’t like it.” he gestures towards your top.

You’re taken aback. He’s always loved when you wear his clothes. “What? I thought I looked cute in it.”

“You do, but you could’ve just taken one of my sweaters.” he states monotonously, as if he’s telling straight facts.

You avert your gaze elsewhere for a moment, pulling an awkward face. “Wait, this isn’t yours?”

He stares at you blankly and then quickly softens his expression. “No it’s Jeremiah’s.”

He must’ve left it here when he came over yesterday. Doesn’t look like he asked about it so he either forgot or it’s not that important to take it back.

Your mouth makes a small ‘oh’ shape and you plop down beside him, pulling the shared blanket over yourself.

“Respectfully, he’s not getting it back. This colour looks so good on me. Get over it princess, I’m not playing around.”

“Mc?” his tone is surprised and questioning.

You gently grab his cheeks with one hand and press a deep kiss onto his lips. “Tell him your (girlfriend/boyfriend/partner) said thanks. Love ya.”

“… Love you too.”

caleb

Caleb came home for dinner and you missed him since breakfast. You’re delighted to see him, fingers caressing his cheeks while pressing a few welcoming kisses onto his lips. He melts under your touch, happier than ever that he has you to come home to after many lonely nights with nobody to be himself around. He accepts each of your kisses but suddenly he’s distracted, pointing at your new top.

“Whose sweater is that?” he asks, having mental pictures of all your clothes stashed in his memory.

You look down at the said sweater, creasing your eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

He tries to act natural, shoving his hands in his pockets, giving you a funny stare. “I think the electrician from yesterday was looking for it. But when I asked what it looked like he said it’s fine never mind.”

“The elec-?” you halt, eyes widening as you cover your mouth with your hands. “Oh my god Caleb.”

He starts laughing before you even say anything. He knew damn well. “What?”

“I wore this sweater while he was here.”

He starts laughing hysterically and as much as you want to scold him for it, you can’t help but laugh too. After what felt like hours, Caleb tugs on the hem of the sweater.

His face inches closer to yours and he smiles, glancing at your lips before your eyes. “Now take it off and put on one of mine.”

thank you for reading! c:

please do not copy my work, translate or claim as your own