Pet names are weird. You can’t force them. They have to fit in with someone’s character and personality or it’s pointless. Sometimes you can turn someone’s mind around on a name they claim not to like. “Darlin” is that, for me. I always use it. Get used to it.
I’m fond of using “darlin’”, but not “darling.” And because I slip into spanish when I’m feeling amorous, “mi reyna,” and because I slip into spanish during sex, “mi puta.”
Calling me “papi” gets under my skin in a good way. “Thank you, Papi” has a nice ring to it.
What you call someone–their name, their role, a nickname–it’s a mark. A light scratch. A scar for life.