Rafayel X Mc - Blog Posts

Working on the Bois today, Starting with Everyone's Favourite Fishie <3 🐠✨

Pt 1

Continuation of the Selkie!Rafayel AU! 🦭🦭🦭 Save a seal, you may or may not accidentally acquire a clingy husband doing so

Zayne is so caring help I love him

Artist Turned Muse

Fandom: 恋与深空 | Love and Deepspace (Video Game) Category: F/M Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Main Character/Qi Yu | Rafayel; Qi Yu | Rafayel/You Tags: One Shot, Crack Fic, Mild Hurt/Comfort, POV Third Person, POV Rafayel, POV Second Person, Light Angst

Summary: Rafayel knows you're lying to him but he doesn't know what the reason behind it is. So the best logical conclusion he comes to is that you are seeing someone else.

A/N: disclaimers: - english isn't my first language, so sorry for any potential mistakes - this is a crack fic written purely for funsies with a pinch of angst (cause it's Rafayel), don't take it too seriously - the fic begins with Rafayel's POV and then it changes to reader's POV

you can read the fic here or go to ao3 (hyperlink in the title)

Rafayel knows his girlfriend has been up to something as of late. He just couldn’t figure out what exactly it was. 

At first, he ignored it. Well, no, he didn’t actually ignore it, more like he just pretended it didn’t bother him—a tactic he was very well-accustomed to.

How did he know something was off, you might ask. Well, first of all Rafayel knows his beloved, thank you very much, so it’s no surprise that the first thing to tip him off was her lying to him. He knows she couldn’t lie to save her life—unlike himself, of course.

So, naturally when he asked her what plans she had for the weekend and she pulled out a half-assed excuse about some kind of reading she needed to catch up to, he knew immediately it wasn’t actually the case. This girl is so bad at lying, Rafayel has no idea why she still even tries. The birthday preparations she tried to make in secret should’ve been proof enough to discourage her from ever trying to lie to him again.

Rafayel, guided by that logic, has tried jogging his memory to remember if there were any anniversaries or other special occasions worthy of celebration and came to the conclusion that there were none. That realization frustrated him to no end because that meant he had no clue what was actually happening with his girl.

Days, then weeks kept going in that same manner with her always making excuses and disappearing for several hours, not answering her phone and keeping her text messages short. He thought he did something wrong and she was just pissed at him but that also wasn’t the case because there were no indications of that apart from her disappearing all the time.

Then it finally hit him. 

She must be seeing someone else. The betrayal he felt the moment that thought settled in his head was like no other. It was way worse than her forgetting him back when they first met because, here she is now clearly remembering him, being with him and yet still disappearing on him several times a week. Oh, this is unbearable. 

What will he do if that’s truly the case? What can he do, really?

It’s not like Rafayel isn’t giving his all to this relationship. What more could she possibly want and why wouldn’t she simply ask it of him? 

If we’re being completely honest, Rafayel is having a full-blown breakdown over this. 

Like, if she wanted someone else to spice things up a bit, she could’ve just told him. Sure, Rafayel would’ve probably cried over it but at the end of the day he’d suck it up and do whatever she wanted hoping it was just a phase. If, on the other hand, it was the worst-case scenario and she fell in love with someone else…

Well, that’s not something Rafayel wants to consider. If push comes to shove, he’ll just improvise like he always does praying for the sea to have mercy on him.

He tries not to overthink all of this but it is getting more and more difficult with each passing day with each excuse and lie even though when she’s with him, she’s no different than she’s always been. She’s loving, teasing, and caring. She cuddles with him like she used to, makes sure he doesn’t starve to death while working on a new piece, and makes love with him like it’s their last day on Earth.

Rafayel loses sleep over the predicament he’s found himself in. And worst of all, he can’t even paint—he can’t put his emotions into art, the one thing he’s always praised himself for being good at. Every time he tries, he just stands there for a while with the paintbrush held mid-air, unable to make the first stroke. Then when he finally makes himself move, do something—anything—he is left with a bitter sense of disappointment. 

It’s all just…not right. He truly feels like a fish out of water (pun intended). 

Not only is she blatantly lying to him, she also hides stuff from him now. She never used to do that before and Rafayel is oh so ready to start ripping off his hair if she continues whatever it is she’s doing now. He’ll go bald at the ripe age of twenty-four. It’d be plastered all over all sorts of billboards too… “An artist gone bald: the downfall of the infamous Rafayel’s hairstyle” or something like that.

Okay, dramatics aside, it is weird. A few days ago, she was on her phone and he dropped onto the sofa right next to her. The moment his head touched her shoulder she locked her phone and put it aside. She thought she was being so nonchalant about it too, but Rafayel isn’t crazy, it wasn’t his imagination playing tricks on him. When he asked her what she was doing she said she was making a list of groceries. Rafayel obviously wasn’t dumb enough to buy that because she wasn’t even typing.

Maybe she was reading someone’s messages? was all Rafayel could think of that sleepless night.

There was that other time, a week ago, when he went to visit her unannounced just because he felt like it and was around the area (not really). He had to wait for her to open the door for two minutes! He knew she was home—the lights were on—but she still made him wait outside the door to her apartment. When she finally let him in, she said, “Oh, sorry, I was making a smoothie when the blender’s lid malfunctioned and the contents were all over my shirt, so I had to change into something else.” 

Sounds valid but here’s the catch. When he went to the kitchen it was perfectly clean and the blender was full. It didn’t look like even a drop of its contents was spilled. Weird.

Also, she didn’t let him go anywhere near her bedroom. It’s not like they usually have a habit of hanging around there when her living room is way cozier and much more spacious. It was still weird…

Today is the day he puts an end to all of this. He can no longer live like this. If there’s something she doesn’t want him to know about so as not to hurt him, he needs to know what it is because staying in the dark hurts him even more. He’s starting to second-guess every single interaction they are having these days.

~~~

It wouldn’t be a lie to say that these past few weeks have been a lot: with all the wanderer fighting you had to combine with spending time with Rafayel as well as working on your secret project. Still, you’re proud of yourself for putting your mind to doing this. And it’s going pretty well if anyone asks you; you were expecting it to turn out way worse.

It’s been a while since the thought first came to your head. It happened when you were finally able to convince Rafayel to show you his true form: tail, scales, and all. He was absolutely mesmerizing, it felt as if you were witnessing the eighth wonder of the world. Quite frankly, you were stunned and unable to find words for a good minute. His tail was such a beautiful rich shade of blue and sparkling with droplets of water that it felt downright criminal he was keeping it a secret for so long. Still unable to voice anything coherent you ran your hand down the scales in wonder.

“Do you think I’m a monster now?” he asked when the silence stretched for too long, with a level of uncertainty that broke your heart.

A monster? You couldn’t believe your ears weren’t deceiving you.

“Rafayel, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” you said with no hesitation.

This silly man, you thought to yourself. He has no idea how truly amazing he is inside and out in any and all his forms.

You had to show him just how stunning and gorgeous he was. And just like that your mission under the code name “Artist Turned Muse” began.

Then came his drawing lessons…

You asked Rafayel to teach you because of an assignment for a work-related event that you totally didn’t make up. It was all a lie, of course. However, you soon found those lessons to be counterproductive and your teacher quite distracting. So, you had to find some other way to make it work.

A friend of yours who frequents all kinds of workshops has been recommending to you quite a few of them for a while now. When she started listing them all, one of them hit close to home. 

“That’s it!” you exclaimed, then hummed to yourself. Paper mache was something you could work with; you were pretty good when it came to working with your hands. Though, it’s been a while since the last time you did anything of the sorts, so you were probably really rusty. That’s why you decided to go to that workshop your friend suggested.

Fast-forward four weeks later, you’re very close to finish and the mini merman Rafayel seems quite close to how the real one looked. You’ve spent quite some time on research, buying materials, and crafting and painting, of course. Additionally, you somehow managed to keep it all a secret from Rafayel, which, truth be told, was the most difficult part of this but you really wanted to make it a surprise.

One day he even showed up at your place uninvited; your hands and clothes were all covered in glue and you had to change and wash up as fast as you could. When he dramatically asked why it took you forever to let him in, you made up an excuse—the first thing that came to your mind—Rafayel seemed to believe it though, because no additional questions came.

Now you’re looking at your creation, it’s almost done, only some finishing touches left. You trace the prominent fleshed out scales of the tail with your fingers. It probably needs some glitter, though using the glue gun to make beads reminiscent of water droplets was a great idea. The goofy little smile you drew on mini Raf’s face makes you huff out a laugh.

That’s when you hear the door to your apartment open. Right away you jump off the chair you were sitting on. There are only two options here: either someone’s breaking in to rob you, or it’s Rafayel who has keys to your apartment, and at this moment you’re not sure which one is worse.

In case it’s really a robbery—which is highly unlikely given that it’s still daytime—you pick up your gun before stepping out of your bedroom. Seeing Rafayel with his hands crossed across his chest in the middle of your living room, you exhale closing the door behind you and putting your gun aside.

“Hello? What happened to knocking?” you try to lighten up the mood with a joke but Rafayel is still frowning for some reason.

Rafayel heaves a deep sigh and says, “I know you’ve been lying to me for weeks. And I know what you’ve been doing behind my back.”

Oh-oh. How did he even find out? That doesn’t matter right now. What matters is he’s upset, like, really, really upset. You weren’t expecting him to take it this badly, though.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t really mean to lie to you…” you say looking at your feet guiltily. Man, surprises are truly exhausting, you’ve spent so much time and effort to keep it a secret and now you’re being reprimanded like a kid for it.

“But you did. I hate it when you lie to me, I’d take a knife in the heart over a lie to my face any day,” Rafayel sounds serious, like never before. 

He’s being a bit too dramatic considering the circumstances, in your opinion, however it is true that he’s very sensitive, so it hurts to hear him this vulnerable. “I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone behind your back.”

Somehow, Rafayel looks even more hurt after those words leave your mouth. “So, you weren’t even considering the option of not doing it in the first place?” He looks like a puppy that’s been repeatedly kicked in the gut and you’re starting to regret every life choice that has led you to this point. This little project of yours was supposed to empower him and make him feel accepted and loved by you but he just looks like he’s witnessed the biggest betrayal of all.

“I—I didn’t think you’d be so against it, to be honest.” The guilt is swallowing you whole at this point; you just want to hide your head in the sand.

“Why—how could you think I wouldn’t be against such a thing? I mean, I probably could deal with it but at the very least you should’ve said something to me beforehand!” And he’s angry again, huffing and puffing. His cheeks are flushed and you’d say he looks cute if not for the hurt etched into every inch of his face.

“Can we at least talk about it honestly now?” he sounds resigned. “Can you tell me the whole thing from the start?”

“Okay,” you nod and finally get closer to him sitting on the sofa beside him, so that you’re face to face. “I first thought about doing this when you showed me your tail,” you start and hear Rafayel’s breath hitch. He looks teary-eyed—though not a single tear falls—and more vulnerable than ever. Oh God, you knew he was very self-conscious and insecure about his lemurian form, you should’ve never tried anything like making a replica of it. “I’m sorry, Rafayel, I should’ve asked you if you were comfortable with me doing anything like this, it was stupid.” Considering how much of a touchy subject Lemuria is for him and how for centuries humans have been using lemurians for all sorts of purposes.

“So, you decided to find someone else because I’m not human?”

What?

No, that’s not right. 

“WHAT?” That’s more like it. You sound absolutely appalled at the idea. How—where did this even come from—

Oh.

Oh.

Oh no, this is a disaster. A complete disaster.

“Rafayel, please tell me what exactly you thought I was lying to you about?”

He still looks distraught as he tries to say, “That you were…” inhale, pause, exhale, “seeing someone else?” his voice uncertain now.

Oh hell no.

“Of course, I wasn’t,” you say as you cup Rafayel’s cheeks. He looks into your eyes and your heart breaks all over again. This silly man thought you were cheating on him and still didn’t say a word until today? And he said he could “deal with it” if you warned him about it? Oh, you need to put an end to this right now.

You don’t even care that the figurine isn’t quite finished yet, you take Rafayel’s hand and lead him into your room. “Ta-da,” you jokingly half whisper, motioning your hand towards the mess that is your desk and workspace in general. The mini Rafayel proudly laying in the middle of it all.

“What’s this…” Rafayel looks around the room, probably still expecting another man to jump out of the closet.

“I was making a paper mache figurine of you, you silly man! There was no other man I was seeing,” you say reassuringly and then add a little sly remark, “Well, if you don’t count this little fishie as one.”

And finally, there’s a glimmer of life in Rafayel’s eyes. “So, you’re not having an affair?”

“Of course, I’m not,” you say one more time, squeezing his hand tighter.

“Thank goodness!” Rafayel exclaims, scoops you up and spins you around, a yelp of surprise escaping your mouth.

“How could you even think I’d be interested in anyone else when I have you?” Your head spins a bit and you can’t stop a little giggle from coming out because, honestly, this whole interaction and misunderstanding is ridiculous. “I don’t need nor do I want any other man when I already have the one I love,” is what you choose to say instead of mocking him. (Though you absolutely will tease him relentlessly and will never let him live this down)

“Yeah, I know…” he says, avoiding your gaze. But does he really?

“I love you, Rafayel.”

“I know,” he repeats.

“No, you don’t. I love you. I am in love with every version of you, in every way, shape, and form you come,” you say because he needs to hear this. “I love you yet I feel like that word can’t even come close to what I feel towards you. It’s so, so much bigger than what words could convey. Please don’t ever doubt that.” You peck his lips to emphasize your point.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he says but he doesn’t look guilty, in fact, he finally looks like himself, grinning from ear to ear and pecking you in return.

“Don’t be,” you reply. “But…”

“But?” Rafayel lifts one of his brows up.

“Don’t you wanna say something in return?” you teasingly drawl the last word.

Rafayel smirks and clears his throat before saying, “Oh? What could that possibly be?”

“I don’t know, maybe something that would correspond with what I said to you earlier?” Your fingers creep up his arm to his shoulder and then flick his nose.

“Ooooh, you mean that,” he articulates exaggeratedly. “Yeah, sure, cutie. I love me, too.”

You playfully slap his arm and pinch it hard. 

“Ouch! That hurt!” he exclaims but that doesn’t deter you. You keep pinching him, then start tickling him all over his body, as he falls onto your bed and wheezes. “Okay, fine, I yield!” A pause. “I love you, too.” He’s holding both your hands by the wrists, so you can’t keep tickling him. Then his breathy laughs stop, his eyes growing softer, more sincere. “I have loved you my whole life. And not just this one. I’ve loved you in every lifetime before this one and I will keep doing so in every following one.”

Now it’s your turn to hold your breath. Sometimes he just says the corniest, cheesiest, most romantic things in the world out of the blue and you’re just left there to pick up the million pieces it shatters you into.

You’re fiercely blushing, so you clear your throat and try to joke your way out of this. “Can you maybe pretend to forget about the mini fishie over there until I finish working on it?”

Rafayel laughs out loud and kisses your forehead. “No problem, cutie. Sorry I ruined your surprise,” he says. “But you should probably stop ever trying to lie again, you really suck at it.”

My Dad!Raf fic, as promised☺️

No Harm Done

cw// fem!reader(referred to as wife, mama, mother, etc), tooth rotting fluff, toy/bubble gun, some injury(soap in eyes and falling on soapy floor >:)), FLUFFFFF

wc; 1355 | proofread by the lovely @grievetheliving3311 | I'm calling the daughter Pearl bc I saw hc about Raf's first daughter being named Pearl and couldn't help myself☺️

A little girl really, absolutely, couldn't possibly do that much harm. Right? At least, that's what you assumed Rafayel must have been thinking when he gave your 5-year-old daughter a bubble gun.

You were simply sitting at the desk you had managed to cram into the bedroom, when you moved in with Rafayel. The desk was simple, wooden, not too tall, and not too short. Your laptop was propped comfortably in the rough middle of the desk, and there were various messy drawings, small paintings, and files scattered amongst the rest of your stationary. Your chair was soft, with a backrest that barely passed your head, and armrests at the perfect height. Not to mention how warm it was from the advancing dusk that infiltrated your pretty, white, curtains.

You weren't doing anything in particular, just scrolling on social media after a long day at work. You thought your husband was painting in his studio, letting your dear little gremlin run around and play. Yeah, you thought. Although, once you heard two sets of giggles, it became increasingly clear that you were wrong.

You decide to believe that Rafayel simply took a break to play with your daughter, and go back to what you were doing, when…

“Mama! Put yer hands where I can see ‘em!” The little girl bursts in with a huge grin on her face.

You can't help but smile as well, at the sight, until you see what she's holding.

It's hard to see in the dim, dusk lighting, but it looks somewhat like the weapon you use for work! Reasonably panicked, you quickly stand, and rush over to her.

“Sweetheart, where did you-” Relieved to suddenly find it isn't actually your gun, you wonder where she got a bubble gun from… Or rather, who.

“Baby, did Papa give you this?” You ask softly, tapping your index finger on the semi-hexagonal shape of bubble wands on the end of the ‘barrel’.

Pearl lets out an excited ‘mhm!’, and you can see where she previously lost one of her back teeth purely from how big she's smiling. It's kind of somber to see how fast your little girl is growing up, but, nevertheless, you have a culprit to catch.

You think for a moment…, how to scare your husband? Hmm… Aha!

“Do you wanna sneak up on Papa?” You propose, already preparing to let your little troublemaker climb onto your shoulders.

She beams, “Can we!?” Her eyes absolutely light up like the sea you swear is hidden in them.

You smile warmly, “We can,” You turn her around so you can pick her up and plop her on your shoulders.

Slowly, you stand up, a smirk playing on your lips. You secure the dear girl by gently holding her ankles, slowly creeping down the hallway. Quietly(though not quiet enough), you giggle, but Pearl playfully shushes you, and rests against the top of your head.

She holds the bubble gun so that your head acts as a stand for it. Your little shrimp giggles, gasping afterwards as if she'll shush herself.

Once you reach the end of the hallway, you hug the wall, scanning the living room-turned-art studio for your husband. You can hear the ticking of Rafayel’s analog clock, and the soft classical music he has playing.

Eventually, you find the chance to sneak up on him. Watching as he sits on a low stool to work on a smaller painting, you begin to creep forward with a big grin on your face. Slowly, once you might as well be breathing down his neck, you trail your right hand from your daughter's ankle and jolt! Rafayel’s shoulder with it.

“Hands up, Papa!” Your baby girl giggles.

Thinking nothing could happen, little Pearl pulls the trigger of her toy… just as her father yelps and turns around to face you…

“Oh! Raf, are you okay!?” You quickly, and gently, place the new culprit on the nearby couch.

You hurry back over to your husband, but…, you underestimate how slippery your daughter's earlier playtime has made the floor. You slip, clattering to your butt, right next to where Rafayel is wincing on his knees.

You can't hold back your laughter, but Pearl breaks first. She's giggling and writhing on the couch, while you and Rafayel begin to double over in laughter instead of pain. You're pretty sure the soap bubbles are making his eyes water, and despite the sting, and the soapy-salty tears on his cheeks, it's obvious his two guppies are his favorite people in the world. But you do have a mess or two to clean now…

Your daughter gasps loudly, “Mama! Papa! It got painted!”

The two of you look over in confusion, laughing when you see the tiny bit of paint that got on the toy. You look back at each other and your hand reaches out to brush some bubbles away from Rafayel's cheeks.

“Thank you, Treasure,” He smiles.

You had always liked the nickname. Though he wasn’t a pirate or anything, being the God of the Sea was close enough for you.

With a content sigh, you plant a chaste kiss to your husband’s lips, sneakily ruffling his perfect hair, “Let’s get all this cleaned up, yeah?”

You help Rafayel to his feet, moving to snatch your daughter up onto your hip. You guide Rafayel to the bathroom, letting him wash his eyes as you wander to the kitchen to take care of Pearl’s dilemma.

Kissing her forehead, you set the small girl down on the counter beside the sink. You start humming a soft tune, the one you always hum to help your mischievous guppies fall asleep. You turn on the faucet. She hands you the bubble gun, smiling giddily at the thought of it being cleaned.

You run the spot of paint under the warm water, figuring it'll get the paint off faster than cold water can. Pearl watches, mesmerized by the water whirlpooling in the drain as her father quietly approaches.

Much to your surprise, Rafayel gets his revenge. Sneaking up to hug you from behind, he lets the remaining water on his face drip down your nape. Out of surprise, you jump and end up letting go of the bubble gun. It hits the bottom of the sink, knocking the soap cartridge loose. You giggle obliviously, turning your head to receive another innocent kiss, as your beloved wipes away a few drops of water from your neck.

“Mama, look!” Pearl squeals, pointing at the sink.

And that's when you notice the sink is filling with bubbles, all thanks to the warm water and loose bubble cartridge. You let out a surprised yelp, quickly turning off the water.

“Oh…, Raf, ‘m sorry; lemme-”

“No, let me,” He interrupts, “You go lay down with Pearl.”

With a sigh, you wrap your husband in a grateful hug. Lifting your daughter into your arms, with a small ‘c’mon, sweet-pea', you wander back down to her bedroom.

After putting her into her favorite mermaid pajamas, you shuffle off to yours and Rafayel's bedroom. You lay down with her, humming as the two of you cuddle up under the huge blanket.

Without much effort, you both drift off as quickly as all this fun unfolded. Like a typical little kid, Pearl snores softly in your hold, safe in her mother's embrace. Rafayel’s pillow is soft beneath your cheek, justifying your habit of stealing his half of the bed.

Soon he comes back, figuring he could watch a movie with his wife and daughter, only to find you both out cold… on his pillow.

He sighs, shaking his head with a soft smile. He climbs into bed to face you, one arm sliding under you to rest your head on his toned-yet-cushy bicep. Rafayel wraps his other arm over your waist, trapping Pearl between your chests, rubbing your back while your mini-me curls up against her parents’ chests like a baby shrimp.

With the messes cleaned, and a happy sleeping family, the night goes off without a hitch; your dreams intertwining and your smiles softer than the pillows beneath you.

© a-yciecat

Fandoms and No-No's for requests!

The Rafayel fic is done! I'll be posting it this afternoon, sorry for the long wait everyone!💜💜💜

@grievetheliving3311

I have this one friend who absolutely loves Rafayel. Would you guys like it if I wrote a fluff fic about girl dad!Rafayel's and your daughter where he gave her a bubble gun and all chaos ensued?

I've tried more than 30 pulls and couldn't get his birthday card, and I couldn't get the rerun too, and now the cake doesn't save, and I get this:

The only thing that made me feel better is because the letter saved and Rafayel said this in the story:

I'm disappointed, I really like him, Zayne (my main) and Rafayel are my favorite ones because of the lore (I love all of them, even Caleb but he scares me a little ngl😭), and I really wanted something cute to decorate his desk, at least they could've gave me the letter...

my last try was this simple one

and I tried to save, but it doesn't work! I've tried seven times already, but still 20/20, I'm really upset

Made a pretty and cute cake to Rafayel, but the game isn't saving, I've tried everything, but it's not saving...

I'm really upset to play the last chapter with a blank cake because I spent some time decorating it

Sad ending or happy ending, guys? This is for Rafayel's fic

saw just now that my post about Rafayel's fic was sent twice 😅 sorry!

I'm thinking about my next story about Rafayel that will be a fanfic with like... 15 chapters or more 🤭

Wait for "The Awakening of Lemuria"

Thinking about my next story about Rafayel that will be a fanfic with like... 15 chapters 🤭

Wait for "The Awakening of Lemuria"

Can you get out of the room? - LADS

You asked him to leave the room so you could change your clothes, but he reminded you that you both were married and had children. (I saw some couples doing this on TikTok).

pairing: Zayne x You, Xavier x You, Rafayel x You, Sylus x You, Caleb x You (Female reader)

warnings: pet names (babe, love...), sex mention, suggestive phrases

w:1576k

Zayne

It was a lovely Sunday evening. After a long week, you finally had a chance to have Zayne with you again, a rare occasion due to his hard work in the hospital. 

He was reading a book on bed, waiting for you to get ready so you can go out to eat at your favorite restaurant. The bedroom was very peaceful, the only noises being the cars outside and the My Little Pony opening song coming from the living room, where your daughter is. 

You just got out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, when you saw him reading and decided to test something you saw on the internet.

“Love, can you get out of the room, please? ” Your voice sounded innocent as you began to open your drawers. “I need to change my clothes”.

You turned to look at him and saw that he was staring at you over his glasses, looking confused. “Pardon?”

“Well, I need to put on some clothes and I am a bit shy to change in front of you.” You said, squeezing your arms around your body to keep the towel covering you. “You know… I am a bit embarrassed.” 

A playful smile appeared on your lips as you saw his frowned face.

“I don’t understand why you want me to leave the room.” He answers, closing the book and taking his glasses off. Then he stood up, walking towards you at a slow pace. His shirt has the first two buttons open, and his belt is open as well.

“Because I don’t want you to look.” He almost laughs at your answer, looking at you, dumbfounded.

Suddenly, he called your daughter's name, who appeared at the door after some minutes. She was only four and was wearing a blue dress, matching Zayne’s shirt color, ready to go out with you, so she looked at you a bit confused when she saw your body still wrapped in the towel. “Mommy is not ready?” 

“Mommy is being difficult.” Zayne forces a sad expression, walking towards the little girl and patting her head. “Tell her to hurry up.”

“Hurry up mommy!” Your daughter runs again to the living room and Zayne smiles, looking at you. 

“Do I have to remind you how babies are made?” You blush slightly when he smiles mischievously, leaning against the door. “But once you asked, I will leave the room and make our little angel company”.

Xavier

It was your time to take a shower, so Xavier was taking care of your son while you were enjoying your bath, massaging yourself with the liquid soap. When you ended your bath, you walked to the bedroom and saw Xavier with the baby in his arms.

“Babe, can you get out of the room?” The blonde man looked at you, confused. 

“Why? Did I do something wrong?” You opened a tender smile to him and chuckled, getting some clothes in the drawers. 

“No, of course not. I just want to change my clothes.”

Xavier looked at you, then his eyes found the baby in his arms. One moment later, he looked at you again. “You know… that I already saw everything, right?” 

You blush, looking away to cover your face. “Shut up… I just need some privacy…”

“If it is something with your body, stop overthinking. You are as gorgeous as ever.” You looked at him, and for a moment you didn’t know if you wanted to kiss him or to throw a pillow on him. 

It was just a joke, a prank that you saw some couples doing on the internet, you didn’t know he would say something like this.

“And don’t you remember what happened fifteen minutes ago that woke him up?” You widen your eyes, feeling your cheeks getting hotter.

“Xavier!”

You two listened to the baby laughing, and you couldn’t help but smile too.  “You… silly.” Xavier opened a warm smile at your words.” 

He kissed your forehead before he began to walk away from you. “I will get his pacifier. Maybe he can sleep again, and we can…” Xavier glanced at you.

That 's it. You got a pillow and threw it at Xavier, making him run out of the room, laughing out loud.

Rafayel

One morning, Rafayel was helping your son with the art homework, and both of them sat on the carpet of the bedroom.

You saw that cute and pacific scene in front of you and smiled, seeing your husband so excited to teach your little boy. A perfect time…

“That's it, my little bubble, now if you mix yellow and red…”

A perfect time for a prank.

“Babe, let's go to the swimming pool… it's so hot today.” You say, innocent, seeing your son's eyes shining bright with the excellent idea.

The boy closed the notebook and ran to his own bedroom, and Rafayel chuckled.

“Fine, let's relax a bit, maybe after that he can sleep early and I will have you just to myself.” He stood up and wrapped his arms around your waist, giving your neck a peck.

“We will have a lot of fun, but now can you get out of the room? I need to put on my bikini.”

Rafayel frowned, confused. “What? Why do I need to get out?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling softly. “I am feeling a bit shy today, so I didn't want you to see.”

The artist raised an eyebrow at your comment.

“Love, do I have to remind you how we made that little boy?” He kissed your cheek. “It was raining when I held you and…”

“Shush!” Your face was almost burning up, as red as a tomato. “I remember.”

He chuckled again, caressing your hip slowly.

“Good, then I don't have to remind you about how…”

“Daddy! Where are my swim goggles?”

Rafayel stopped, looking at the door.

“Have you looked in your drawer?” He answered, looking at you. “I will help him.”

Sylus

It was your birthday and Sylus promised a “family day” to you, as you asked for. 

While you were drying your hair, he was helping your younger daughter to dress up. A moment later, he walked into your bedroom and saw you choosing an outfit. 

“Love, can you get out of the room?” Sylus frowned. “Why would I?”

“I want to change my clothes, so I will need to take off the one I am wearing.”

Sylus looked at your covered body, then at your face. “It’s not a big deal. You can change in front of me.”

“No, I am embarrassed.” You answer, lying. You just wanted to test the prank you saw on the internet.

“Embarrassed of what?” He scoffed.

“Changing my clothes in front of you.” He blinked, totally confused, then called three names, making his deep voice reach all the house.

Two children runned into your bedroom, the twins, who were already dressed up, then your younger daughter walked in slowly, since she was still learning how to walk.

“Trust me, kitten, I saw your body a lot of times already.” 

One of the twins frowned, saying “Ew! Mommy and Daddy are flirting!” You looked at the kid, poking his nose. “We are not!”

Sylus was smiling charmingly. “Of course we are…” He walked towards you and held your hand, giving it an affectionate kiss.

“Will we have another sibling?” You almost choked when the child said it out of the blue. “What? Where did you get this idea from?”

“Daddy told us that to make a baby he has to kiss your hand…” One of the twins said. “I want one more sister!” The other said as well.

You looked at Sylus, who was trying to hide his smirk against your hand. 

“Everyone… get out of here!” You shouted at them. Sylus laughed, holding both of the twins in his arms when he escaped from the bedroom, letting just you and your daughter. “Can you believe it?” You ask the little girl, who smiled cheerfully. “No, you are not going to have a new sibling.” You said, picking her up. 

Caleb

“Captain Marshmallow to Captain Daddy, are you listening to me?” You frowned, amused, as you saw your daughter and your husband playing spies in your bedroom, rolling on the bed and running around the room.

“I am, Captain Marshmallow. Leader Mommy just arrived from work. We need to greet her.” Caleb said as he picked the little girl in his arms. “Let's go.”

You smiled, kissing the girl's head before doing the same with Caleb's lips. “How are my ‘Captains’?” The question was almost a joke, but you saw your husband laughing.

“She watched a lot of movies.”

“Daddy! We can use the bubble guns to play!" The girl ran out of the room, letting you and Caleb all alone.

“How are you, my dear?” He hugged you tightly.

“Tired, but I am good.” You smiled, feeling a bit better. “I need to change my clothes, can you get out of the room, babe?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why? It's not like I never saw you naked before, you know…”

You poke his arm, blushing. “I just need some privacy.”

He laughed, seeing your daughter running back to the bedroom with two bubble guns on hands.

“I will give you ten minutes.” He winks, looking at you. “So hurry up, or I will have to keep you here for more than that.”

just fell to my knees

hello! good day to youuu, can i make a request for the lads men? in which reader is not the mc and here's the prompt: having to beg them to do something with you then seeing them doing it with mc willingly, sorry english is not my first language but pleaaaseeee 😭 i love some angst.

Bitter

PAIRING: Love and Deepspace men x non-mc!reader

SYNOPSIS: Watching the one you love partake in what you once pleaded to share—a quiet betrayal—feels like an arrow through the heart, swift and merciless. (angst, no comfort)

A/N: Thank you for the request, it came out more as a drabble. Hope you enjoy!

Xavier

What a bitter, gutting thing it was—to stand in the shadows and watch him shine for someone else. To see the light in his eyes, the easy laughter, the quiet devotion as he did for her what he had never done for you.

The one thing you once begged for. The one thing he had denied you.

But not her. Never her.

She was fate’s beloved, the one woven from the same celestial thread as him, bound to him in ways you never could be. You had always told yourself to be rational, to be understanding. Xavier came with a past. He came with baggage.

And inside that baggage, nestled close to his heart, was her.

The woman you would envy until the world turned to dust.

And yet—how could you ever bring yourself to hate her? When she was made of kindness, of soft edges and warm light? When she looked at you with nothing but affection, oblivious to the ruin she left in her wake? She was an angel. A blessing. A curse.

And fate, it seemed, had always been on her side.

So there they were, walking side by side, woven together so seamlessly it was almost poetic. Almost cruel. Her bags in his hands, the weight of them carried so effortlessly—as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

And yet, when you had asked for the same—just a simple day together, just a moment of his time—he had sighed, shaken his head, told you he was too tired. That work was too much. That he simply couldn’t.

But now, watching him with her, you couldn’t help but wonder—did she take his exhaustion away? Did her presence breathe new life into him in a way you never could?

The answer settled deep in your bones, cold and unrelenting.

Your friend beside you said nothing, only looking at you with that quiet, suffocating pity that made your stomach turn. Because there was nothing to say. Nothing to soften the truth you had known all along.

You were not his first thought in the morning. You were not the name on his lips when he passed a garden of wildflowers. You were not the presence lingering in his mind when the world grew quiet.

And you never would be.

You had spent so long fighting against it. Xavier loves me. He chose me. The words had been your lifeline, a fragile, trembling thing you whispered into the silence. But even your friends never seemed convinced.

And now, neither were you.

So you did the only thing you knew how to do.

You turned away.

No confrontation. No desperate pleas for an explanation that would only come laced with half-truths and empty reassurances. What good was honesty when it had never been yours to begin with?

When he came home that night, his lips still curved with the ghost of a smile, he found an emptiness he had never felt before. Your things, your presence—gone, as if you had never been there at all.

And in your place, only a single note remained.

"I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for. Because clearly, it was never me."

And Xavier, poor Xavier, would stand there, reading those words over and over, grasping at the fraying edges of something he had never truly held onto.

But then again—

Xavier had never noticed his wrongdoings.

Not until there was nothing left but the weight of his own ruin.

Zayne

Zayne—or Dr. Zayne, as she called him—had always been a good man. A gentleman in every sense. Caring, affectionate, endlessly considerate.

But never for you.

His tenderness felt practiced, his affections routine. As if he wasn’t loving you, but fulfilling some unspoken obligation. A kindness given not out of devotion, but out of mere habit.

And you had tried to ignore it. Swallowed your doubts, convinced yourself you were overthinking.

Until you saw them together.

Her.

The one fate had tied him to. The one who never had to ask for his attention, because it had always belonged to her.

Her laughter lit up rooms before she even stepped inside. Her eyes gleamed like sunlight catching on water—brilliant, hypnotic, impossible to look away from. And neither could he.

And then, there was the picture.

A simple post, one she likely uploaded without a second thought, oblivious to the quiet devastation it would bring.

There she was, sitting in his office. Smiling. At ease.

Sharing lunch with him.

Something you had never been allowed to do.

You had asked once—just to drop by, to see him, to spend even a sliver of time together in the place he spent most of his days. But he had refused, brushing you off with a gentle but firm, “I don’t want distractions.”

And yet, there she was, sitting across from him, urging him to eat the food she had made, as if she had every right to be there. And maybe she did.

They had known each other forever. That was what you told yourself—Of course, they’re close. Of course, they understand each other in ways I never will. You had tried to accept it. To be understanding.

But then you saw the way he looked at her in the picture.

The softness in his eyes. The quiet, unguarded devotion.

Like she was the only one who could unravel him, the only one who could slip past his carefully built walls.

You had spent so long trying to do the same, but you never even made a crack.

And so, that was the moment you made a promise to yourself.

You would not be someone’s second choice. You would not collect the scraps of his affection while she—effortless, radiant, destined—was given everything you had ever wanted.

And Zayne noticed.

He noticed in the silence. In the missed calls that went unanswered, the messages left on read. In the bouquets left wilting at your doorstep, the petals curling at the edges.

Roses.

Her favorite flowers.

Not yours.

And that was all the confirmation you needed.

Zayne was never the gentleman you thought he was.

Or perhaps, he was. Just never for you.

Or maybe—maybe it was fate itself that was cruel.

Rafayel

Something inside you cracked, splintering like fragile seashells beneath careless hands—shattered beyond repair, beyond mending.

It wasn’t a sudden break. No, it had been slow, creeping in like the tide, eroding the edges of your love bit by bit, pulling pieces of you away before you could even notice you were unraveling.

And now, the final wave had come, and it had taken everything with it.

Because there he was—your Rafayel—kneeling beside her, smiling in a way you had longed to be the cause of.

The sight alone stole the breath from your lungs.

You had spent so long pretending not to notice. Ignoring the way his gaze always sought her out, the way his voice softened just a fraction when he spoke to her. You had swallowed the ache, told yourself it didn’t matter.

"That’s just the way he is," you had whispered, time and time again.

But it had never been the way he was.

It had only ever been the way he was with you.

And now, you knew why.

Rafayel hated cats.

You remembered the way his nose had scrunched when you had once tried to feed a stray by the docks, the way he had flicked his fingers as if to ward the creature away. “Little beasts,” he had muttered, half-amused, half-disgusted. “I don’t understand how you humans tolerate them.”

You had laughed then, nudging him playfully. “You’re just jealous they’re cuter than you.”

And yet—here he was.

Crouched beside her, cradling a trembling kitten in careful, delicate hands, his expression softer than you had ever seen it. His touch—usually teasing, fleeting, always just out of reach—was steady, warm, tender.

For her.

Not for you.

Something cold curled around your ribs, sinking deep, making it harder to breathe.

It was never about the kitten.

It was never about the things he couldn’t do.

It was about the things he never wanted to do for you.

And watching him now, so unguarded, so effortlessly kind, made you wish you had never met him at all.

Rage and sorrow burned through your veins, curling beneath your skin like a sickness. You wanted to rip that stupidly charming smile from his face, wanted to demand why he had never looked at you like that.

But there was no point.

So you turned and walked away.

Ignoring reality, just as you had once tried to ignore fate.

But fate never ignored you.

And something in the air told you—Rafayel wouldn’t either.

Sylus

Sylus had never been an easy man to love.

Sharp edges, cold precision—every move calculated, every word spoken with intent. He was not a man swayed by sentiment, nor was he one to entertain trivial affections.

You had known this from the start.

And yet, knowing had never stopped you from wanting.

So you learned to take what little he gave you—stolen moments in the dead of night, whispered conversations where he let the ice thaw just enough for you to believe there was something beneath it. But always, always, he kept his distance, his affections measured, restrained.

"This is who I am," he had told you once, when you asked why he never let himself soften. "I don’t have the luxury of being gentle."

You had believed him.

Until now.

Until you saw him, standing there in the dim glow of a high-rise restaurant, his head tilted ever so slightly toward her. The woman fate had written into his story, the one whose presence seemed to unravel him in ways you never could.

His fated one.

And in front of them, two untouched glasses of wine.

Wine.

The very thing he had refused to share with you.

"I don’t drink with others," he had said once, his voice clipped, final. "It's a pleasure reserved for my time alone."

But now, here he was. Sharing a glass with her. His fingers resting idly against the stem of his glass, his expression unreadable yet undeniably present. He was here. Fully. With her.

A man who never entertained distractions, utterly enthralled.

The way he looked at her—it was something different. Something you had never been granted. There was no calculation in his gaze, no careful restraint. No cold, distant amusement.

Just quiet acceptance. As if she had been meant to sit beside him all along.

And that was when you knew.

You could tear yourself apart, try to become everything he had ever wanted, and it still wouldn’t matter. Because fate had already made the choice for him.

And it wasn’t you.

Still, you lingered a moment longer, letting the pain settle, letting it carve its lesson deep into your ribs.

And then, without a word, you turned and left.

Because you, too, could learn to be cold.

Caleb

Caleb had always been warm. That was the problem.

He had a way of making you believe you belonged there—tucked into his arms, held close by quiet promises and easy smiles. He made you think you mattered.

But there was always her.

His childhood best friend.

Not bound by fate, not chosen by some cosmic force—just there. Always. In every story he told, in every old memory that made his eyes soften with something you could never quite reach. The one who had been with him before you, the one who had held his hand through storms you’d never even known existed.

And you told yourself it wasn’t a competition.

Until the night you saw them.

The neon lights of the karaoke bar cast the whole street in a soft glow, music and laughter spilling from inside as you walked past—until something, someone, made your steps falter.

Through the open doors, past the booths and glowing screens, you saw him.

Caleb.

Standing there, microphone in hand, singing.

With her.

The sight knocked the breath from your lungs.

"I don’t like singing in front of people," he had told you once, shaking his head with a sheepish smile when you begged him to join you for just one song. "It’s embarrassing. I just—I can’t, okay?"

But now, here he was.

Swaying slightly, smiling as their voices blended together in a song you didn’t recognize. It wasn’t perfect—his voice cracked in places, he missed a beat or two—but that didn’t matter. Because he was trying. Because he was enjoying it.

Because she made him feel safe enough to do what he had never done for you.

Your stomach twisted.

It had never been about singing.

It had been about you.

You should have walked away then. Should have swallowed the lump in your throat and turned back, should have spared yourself the cruel spectacle of watching them.

But you didn’t.

You stayed long enough to see the way he laughed when she nudged him playfully. The way he looked at her, unguarded, free. The way she reached for his hand without hesitation—because she knew it would always be there, waiting for her.

And for the first time, you realized—maybe you had never been holding his hand at all. Maybe you had only been grasping at the space he left behind.

Something cold settled in your chest.

You didn’t wait for him to notice you.

You just turned, and left, without a sound.

And Caleb, too caught up in a song meant for someone else, never even saw you go.