✅ History teacher!Sylus x Art teacher!nonmc
✅ Fantasy/mythological AU
✅ Thief!nonmc
✅ Pro-wrestler!nonmc (story idea)
📝 Archfiend!sylus x princess!nonmc
✅ Shy!nonmc oneshot
📝 Khaosi Sovereign!Sylus
xavier’s jealousy is both a blessing and a curse. while it’s nice to know how protective he was over you, it could sometimes be a little overbearing, and yet, you had grown to love it. sometimes you would even do things on purpose just to make him jealous. wandering eyes as you went to the store, accidentally bumping into people, laughing a little louder at a colleague’s joke, every little thing you could think of. until one day he’s simply had enough. he can’t handle it anymore, catching on to what you were doing, and next thing you know he’s pulling you into a closet, mid-shift at the association, because he needs to have you. he needs to prove that he’s the only one that’s ever allowed to have you, to touch you, to know what it’s like to hear your sweet moans as he makes you cum. his hands are all over you, caressing skin beneath your shirt as he pulls you insatiably closer. you were giggling at the way his cheeks were flushing and jaw tensing only moments ago, now you’re practically melting in his hands. “you think you’re so clever…” he grumbles between kisses against your neck. “think that i don’t know what you’re doing.” then he’s turning you around and pushing you against the wall, hands gripping at your pants and tugging them down the plush of your ass. you try to stop him, try to tell him someone will hear, but he’s too far gone already. “uh ah. you’re mine. only mine.” he growls in your ear, his hand reaching down to swipe through your folds. “say it. say you’re mine.” and you do, of course you do. how could you not? no matter how much you teased him or tried to make him jealous… he was the only one you ever truly wanted.
can’t stop thinking about nesting with dragonlus. how he wouldn’t judge you or think of you as weak like most would. he wouldn’t make you feel ashamed of such a natural thing but rather embrace it and only love you more for it. he would go out of his way to give you only the softest of blankets and miscellaneous items to use to create your special space, all of which smell like him. either by default or because he purposely made sure that they did. how he’d treat it as a sacred place for you, and him, if you allowed him the honour. he would give you everything you needed and more whether it’s simply comfort, quiet time or a place for love when you’re in heat. he’d be everything and anything you needed, bare his soul for you to fulfil your every hearts desire.
“You aren’t doing it right,” you groan, pulling away and catching your breath as you look at Sylus who was just staring at you with a stupid grin on his face.
“Oh? And I didn’t know there was a proper way to kiss you.”
You shake your head and adjust yourself between his legs, shuffling closer until you’re pressed against him a second time. And the moment your skin makes contact with him, you don’t waste another second before kissing him again.
“There is no proper way,” You mumble between kisses, pulling away to catch your breath before diving in for another one. “You're just doing it wrong on purpose.”
A quiet chuckle left his lips and Sylus slid his hand to the side of your head, cupping your face in his palms before ‘melting’ in the kiss.
“How observant— tch!”
You only nip his lip in response and it makes him hiss, pulling back and gazing at your mischievousness written all over you. He cocked an eyebrow and huffed out a laugh while swiping his thumb against his lip.
“And feisty.” He adds on.
“Yeah,” You whisper, hands trailing to the nape of his neck as you carefully hold onto him, itching to just lean closer.
“So kiss me properly.”
The moment Sylus heard that request, he paused. He didn’t move yet, but his gaze did flicker from your eyes to your lips, though he did stare a second longer at your lips. Either way, he of course indulged and eventually planted his lips on yours.
The kiss, however... wasn't the best. And you couldn't tell if he was doing it on purpose again, or he's just genuinely a bad kisser, I mean the way he was really bored with it, or sloppy for that matter, it only made you think otherwise—
“Sy— Hngh-”
Well... not even seconds later, your assumptions were immediately thrown out the window once you realized what was actually happening. His kisses, that were once lazy, bitey, and god awful, were just slowly turning into better ones...
And you really didn't know what the sudden switch up was. He gave you one kiss, then another, and then one more—and the more kisses he gave; the more desperate they were getting.
So the other bad kisses really were on purpose.
Sylus's hands trail along your body, stopping at your hips before he carefully adjusted you on his lap, making sure you're completely pressed against him as he continued kissing you.
"This- isn't so bad now, is it?" Sylus muttered, sliding his fingers through your hair before diving even deeper into the kiss.
You only hardly laugh in response, mainly because you're trying to regain your composure while you're literally getting eaten alive by the man who wouldn't stop now that he's got you in the right position.
"Yeah... it isn't so bad."
a/n. btw i never had my first kiss so dont mind if it doesn't make sense or is bad. I mean, that's kinda the point too, but ykwim.
I'm having thoughts on how you meet the LADs LIs in a modern AU, no evols, no past lives, no mysterious connections to each other, just regular meet-cutes (or perhaps more like meet-ugly in some cases). Please note MC is not a separate character in this scenario, it’s just you and the boys (*^▽^*) Enjoy~
Xavier
You meet Xavier on a blind date your friend set up for you at a hotpot place. It’s been a while since you’ve been out with anyone—thus your friend insisting on you meeting this new guy she’s sure is a perfect fit for you—so you’re a bit nervous and you end up arriving early. Figuring you might as well get the two of you a table, you take a seat while keeping your eyes on the door, anxiously bouncing your leg under the table as you message your date to let him know you’re here.
A man enters, at least 6 feet tall and with a head of blonde hair, which matches the description you were given when this was all set up, so you merrily wave him over. He pauses and seems to look confused for moment—oh God, what if your friend hyped you up too much and now he’s disappointed—but he obligingly comes over and you shove the menu into his hands and usher him to sit down. You pour him some water from the jug on the table as you ask how his journey was, and he replies it was fine, albeit a little stiltedly.
Unfortunately, that makes you even more nervous, and when you’re nervous, you get chatty, like you’re trying to fill an awkward silence before it can form. It’s only the waitress coming over to take your order—which he provides in a soft, smooth voice—that finally gets you to quiet down. There’s a pause after she leaves and you take the moment to apologise for yapping away, explaining that you haven’t been on a date in a while and he’s a lot more handsome than your friend made out, so you’re a little tense.
As you’re nearing the end of this explanation, you get a text pop up on your phone from… your date?
You look up at the man in front of you, who is decidedly not on his phone, and then back down at the message which reads sorry, smth came up, can’t make it.
At this point, the guy across from you is also looking at your phone, and it seems he’s started to put the pieces together himself. You’re not sure you’ve ever been more mortified than when you realise you have effectively forced some poor random man on a date with you. For a while you just stare at him helplessly, as though maybe the truth will un-reveal itself and you can go back to blissful ignorance, until he interrupts by offering to move to a different table.
Looking around, you realise the restaurant has quickly filled up since you arrived, to the point you’re not sure there is another free table, and even if there were, you really don’t think he should be the one to move. You explain as much when you finally come to your senses enough to apologise, offering to pay the bill and leave yourself. After a little back and forth, you eventually decide together that since the order’s been placed you might as well eat while you’re here and you can split the bill later.
Xavier, as you find out his name is, actually turns out to be quite easy to talk to, once you’ve calmed down enough from your mistake to have an actual conversation. It turns out you both like the same comic series as well, and you leave the restaurant with a plan to meet up for lunch again.
Needless to say, you don’t bother trying to rearrange anything with your actual intended date.
Rafayel
You meet Rafayel when you rescue him while working late one night at the University. It’s a Friday and everyone else has long since left to start their weekends but you have a review meeting coming up, and after dealing with some deeply uncooperative cell cultures, you’re grinding to gather as much useable data as you can possibly get. You step out of the lab briefly to grab yourself something with caffeine in it while the centrifuge whirs away, only to stop when you see someone gesticulating wildly while talking loudly into their phone outside the building.
They’re in the courtyard that connects your Biology building and the Art department—why someone had put the two next to each other, you would never know—the very same one with doors that could only be opened via keycard after 6pm and no alternative exit route. You’re just wondering if the young man might be stuck out there when he spots you through the glass door and starts waving at you before pointing at the door’s release button on the inside. Ah, so he is stuck then you think, as you walk over and press it, how long has he been out there?
The doors start to open automatically, and as soon as enough space opens up, the man hurls himself through the gap almost as though he thinks they might change their mind and try to shut him out again. He looks back through the doors like the mere existence of the courtyard is an attack upon his person and asks you if your university makes a regular point of trying to trap its guests. You can only shrug in reply, but he looks put out enough that you feel a bit sorry for him, so you offer him some of the fancy tea and snacks you keep around for when your experiments go to shit and you need some cheering up.
And that’s how you end up entertaining Rafayel, art legend who had been cajoled into doing a guest lecture at your university, in your lab group’s office space over tea at almost 9pm. He regales you with the story of how he’d been kept late by the Dean of the art department talking his ear off, trying to persuade him into taking a fixed-term position, and had then wandered out the wrong exit and ended up in the predicament you’d found him in. You have the sense this venting is much needed, so you let him carry on, offering sympathy when appropriate.
Surprisingly, he then turns the conversation to you and you find yourself prattling away about your research project. You do make something of an effort not to fully nerd out on him, but it’s difficult when he’s a good listener and seems able to pick up on the bits you’re the most passionate about. He manages to wheedle your phone number out of you before he leaves, with the excuse of needing someone to rescue him should he fall victim to the courtyard again—though you struggle to imagine why he’d come back after his first experience with the University.
It catches you rather by surprise then, when you see his name pop up as a new hire in the newsletter that circulates the week after.
Zayne
You meet Zayne while on your way to comfort your friend after a break up. Said break up has been a long time coming—at least, in your opinion as someone who never liked the bastard to begin with—but that doesn’t mean she’s any less upset about it, which is why you step into the elevator of her apartment building with a plastic bag containing a full tub of rocky road ice cream, a box of her favourite truffles and a cheap bottle of wine. You press the button for her floor and then the one to hold the door as you spot a man also walking towards the elevator.
He thanks you politely, reaching the doors in just a few long strides and pressing the button for a different floor before standing on the opposite side to you. The doors close and the elevator starts to rise as you get your phone out to let your friend know you’re here. It’s then that you hear an awful grinding noise and the elevator comes to an abrupt stop, decidedly not at either of your intended floors. For a moment, you hope it’s just stopped to let some other resident of the building in, but several seconds pass with the doors refusing to open and you exchange concerned looks with the only other occupant. It seems, you both agree, that the elevator is stuck.
You do the sensible thing of pressing the call button and alerting the building’s management team to the problem, who promise you they’ll deal with the issue as soon as they can, and you’re then left with the reality of being trapped in an enclosed space with a complete stranger. As you attempt to surreptitiously study the guy, you note that while he’s pretty good-looking and well-dressed, the faint dark lines under his eyes scream of someone who’s had too long of a day to deal with the bullshit of getting stuck in an elevator.
Spreading your old, tired coat on the ground, you sit yourself down and offer the spot next to you to the guy. He initially looks like he’s going to refuse but with a bit of needling, he seats himself next to you with a heavy sigh. Figuring you might as well try to get comfortable, you offer him a handshake and introduce yourself. You learn his name is Zayne, he works as a doctor at the nearby hospital and the only reason he’s in the building is because he planned to pick up something from a colleague before heading home. As your conversation continues, it’s not too difficult to pick up on the fact that he’s not the most extroverted individual in the world, but there’s nothing like being stuck somewhere with no other source of entertainment aside from your nearly dead phone to spur you into keeping the conversation going.
More time passes with no sign of immediate rescue, so you dig the portable cutlery set out from your workbag and offer to split your rapidly melting ice cream with your new elevator buddy. Once you are finally liberated from your shared confinement—a process that takes over two hours in the end—you’re down one tub of ice cream and a half a box of truffles. Zayne offers to compensate you for both, but you’ve grown fond enough of his dry sense of humour that you propose a counter offer: next time he can treat you to some ice cream, ideally in a nicer location than the floor of a broken down elevator.
He accepts.
Sylus
You meet Sylus during a run in with your miserable, cheating ex. It’s been a rough month all in all, trying to stitch together the tattered edges of your life where they’d previously been entangled with another person. As a treat, you decide to take yourself out shopping, a higher end store than you’d usually frequent, but you feel like you’ve earned it by surviving the last four weeks.
Your nice day out is cut short however, when you spot your ex with the sidepiece he’d been seeing behind your back clinging to his arm and sporting a sizeable diamond ring on her left hand. Unfortunately, they spot you before you have time to process properly that the person you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with is engaged no more than a month after your break up. They approach you and the conversation is as full of petty bullshit as you would expect from the two worst people you know—your ex making sure to mention the expensive honeymoon they’ve got booked after the lavish wedding they’re going to have next spring.
Then the conversation turns to you, and your ex’s new fiancée asks snidely if you’re seeing anyone. It’s obvious from the smug look on her face that she knows the answer is no and something in you just snaps. You’re not thinking straight—you’d never do something like this if you were— when you grab the poor stranger unfortunate enough to be standing close to you and announce him as the new guy you’ve been seeing. All you can tell from your peripheral is that he’s well-dressed and considerably taller than your ex, who always had a bit of a thing about his height.
You see your ex’s expression falter as he looks the guy over and it emboldens you enough that you finally let loose the verbal tirade you wanted to give him the day you found someone else’s nudes on his phone. To say you eviscerate the pair of them would be putting it mildly; by the end of your little speech, half the store has turned to watch and at least one grandmother is clutching at her pearl necklace.
To finish off with the appropriate dramatics, you march away from the pair with your head held high and manage to make it halfway across the shop floor before you realise you’ve dragged the random stranger you grabbed hold of with you. An apology to end all apologies at drawing the poor man into your drama starts to form on your tongue, only to have it wither away the moment you get a proper look at him. The arm you’re hanging onto belongs to one of the most intimidating—and good-looking, but that’s a little beside the point—guys you’ve ever seen.
It’s immediately apparent from his build that the only reason you got this far is because he let you haul him away. And then there’s the way he’s looking at you, like a big cat eyeing up something that wandered into its enclosure, trying to decide whether it’s worth hunting. Suddenly, you are struck by the feeling that you have just done something very, very stupid.
Caleb
You meet Caleb while having the worst day of your life. A failing grade on your latest piece of coursework, your barely acceptable average hanging on by a thread, your best friend for over a decade seems to have decided you’re a poor relation to the new friends she’s made at her own college a city away and you have a rat problem your landlord is refusing to address. In some attempt to try to salvage things, you decide to treat yourself with a beverage from your favourite coffee shop. Do you really have the budget for it? No, but the thought of staying in your shitty rental for the rest of the day is too much to bear.
You go up to counter and order as usual, wincing a little when the number comes up on the till but tapping your card regardless, however it’s when you collect your drink and turn to find your usual seat in the corner that things go horribly wrong. Someone shoulder checks you, hard, and you manage to tip your drink all over yourself as you stagger backwards.
Time seems to freeze for a moment, you can feel the eyes on you, watching as the liquid drips down from your formerly white shirt. Looking down at the contents of your now nearly empty cup, something in you breaks. You start bawling—tears, snot, the works. The arsehole who ran into doesn’t even bother to stop as you burst into hysterics and everyone else seems content to just stare at you like you’re some kind of spectacle.
Then, you feel an arm around your shoulder, guiding you towards a quiet corner at the back of the store as someone takes the cup from your hands and presses a wad of napkins into them instead. You try to thank them through the tears, although you’re not sure anything intelligible comes out and the kind stranger just quietly hushes you in response. They get you to sit down and you look up to see an extremely handsome guy—you think you might have seen him around campus before, although you’re not sure—standing in front of you, blocking the view of you from the rest of the shop with his back.
He lets you cry it out for bit, disappearing only briefly after you’ve started to calm down and coming back with a duplicate of your drink order. That act of kindness is almost enough to make you start back up again, but then he asks what happened and you end up spilling your guts to him. It seems like bad manners to dump all your problems on a stranger, though once you’re done, you do feel more like a person and less like a total walking disaster. He introduces himself as Caleb and he is indeed at the same college as you, just a couple of years ahead. You thank him profusely for his help and try to give him some money for the drink but he waves it off, asking instead if he can borrow your phone quickly. Not seeing any reason to refuse—maybe his has run out of charge, you think—you hand it over and he steps away to make brief call before handing it back to you.
That encounter seems to serve as something of a turning point, as shortly after you say your goodbyes, you receive a message from your landlord promising the rat problem will be dealt with immediately. You also notice that Caleb :) has been added to your contacts list.
A/N: Fun fact, the building thing in Rafayel’s bit sounds made up but is inspired by a genuine set up at one of the Universities I’ve worked at where if you forgot your keycard after hours, you could literally get trapped in a courtyard with no way out other than trying to scale the buildings or calling security. This almost happened to me once and I lived in permanent fear of actually getting stuck out there, so I am passing my trauma onto Raf <3
Do you guys think when Sylus was putting those golden temporary tattoos on he was just thinking to himself "I'll make myself shiny so wife wants me cuz wife likes shiny" or what cuz he ACCENTUATED that little waist of his and his shoulders/back and it 1000% worked
Rafayel is definitely the type to always be touching your tits when you’re lounging. Doesn’t matter if they’re only a handful or they spill out between his fingers, he loves your boobs. You’ll be doomscrolling together and he has a hand under your shirt at all times. It’s not even sexual a lot of the time, he says it just feels nice and soft and warm. He essentially takes your bra off for you the moment you get home, massaging your shoulders then your chest gently. Your breasts truly are a wonder to him and deserve constant attention. At times while lounging, he’ll even start playing with your nipple. Lazy circles, tugs and pinches 🫣 he swears it’s just cuz he needs to fidget and well…you’re tits are right there 🤭 his hand between them, playing with your nipples, squeezing them, anything as long as he’s that close to you 🩷
Can't help but think how considerate and emphatic Rafayel would be on your periods :( <3
Like you two would be talking about something and something he said made you laugh - only for you to stop mid-laugh into a surprised, pained and silent gasp as you feel blood gush out of you and stain uncomfortably against your pad in a wet squelch. And Rafayel would immediately clock on, and won't ask or say anything - instead he'd just pull you into his arms and massage your tummy soothingly, easing your pain and embarrassment by leaving soft kisses and nuzzles across your cheek and neck.
"I hate it when that happens," you murmur mostly to yourself. Rafayel doesn't ask what you're talking about. He already knows what you mean. "I know," he murmurs just as softly, nuzzling into your cheek soothingly.
"It feels gross," you continue grousing, embarrassed and irritated at how you had to change pads at every random sneeze or laugh. You hated the unpredictability of your flow. Instead of pulling away, Rafayel only presses closer, kneading your hips. "I know," he repeats, softer than before, as he kisses you.
He'd be so in tune with your feelings and emotions he'd know every minor discomfort that plagues you🥺🫶
Summary: Breaking out the LIs full names (Chinese Names) when you’re angry with them.
Zayne, Sylus, Xavier, Rafayel, Caleb (separate) x reader.
Fiance Zayne, Husband Sylus, Boyfriend Xavier, Boyfriend Rafayel, Boyfriend Caleb. Jealous reader during Caleb’s story. Use of nicknames/pet names in all LI stories.
The average day tends to start off with a kiss on your forehead as a morning greeting. The average day tends to have you visiting Zayne at his work whenever you get a free moment. The average day is when you share sweets and stories about said average day.
A not-average day is when you’re furious with your fiance.
“Li Shen.”
Immediately, Zayne’s back stiffens from your call. Tension tightens his muscles, breath catches in his throat. His eyes train on you as you make your approach.
There’s no getting out of this now that you knew what he’d done.
“Darling—”
“Don’t you ‘darling’ me, Li Shen. You have some explaining to do.” Your brows are furrowed with cold eyes directed at Zayne.
In an attempt to gain your sympathy, his expression shifts. Zayne’s full force pouty face, the childish one he knows you have a soft spot for, paints his features. He’s pleading with you with downcasted eyes and hunched shoulders.
No.
You are not letting him get away with it this time. “You don’t get to get out of this one so easily. Explain to me why I found candy wrappers on your desk when you’re not supposed to have sweets. You’ll aggravate your toothache!”
Zayne stills at your words. He was sure he’d thrown away the candy wrappers.
You were still in front of him, arms crossed. “Well?”
“I was merely testing a hypothesis.”
“Really now?”
“Yes.”
“You disobeyed the dentist and my instructions. I’ve already warned you and got yelled at by your dentist. For that, I’m confiscating all your sweets and I’m putting you on a kiss ban for a week.”
Zayne looks stricken. “Don’t you believe that’s a little harsh, Snowflake?”
You whirl away towards the kitchen. “If you don’t want to listen, consequences must be enacted.”
You feel arms wrap around you as Zayne’s chest meets your back. “Please, my love. I’m sorry. Please don’t deprive me of the sweetest part of my life.”
“Are you talking about me or the macarons hiding in your fridge?”
Zayn presses a kiss to your temple. “Nothing is as sweet as you.”
Your heart flutters at his sweet talk. Unfortunately for Zayne, “I’m still taking away your dessert privileges.”
Zayne’s arms cling to you tighter.
Sylus
You’re fuming. You’re absolutely angry at your husband for this stunt he pulled.
“You got hurt!”
Sylus leans back against the wall. “I heal fast, sweetie. It was my choice to protect you from that shot.”
“I could have handled it. You didn’t need to throw yourself into danger for me,” you counter.
“I know you could have handled it, but I didn’t want you harmed either.”
“Qin Che,” you spit, “You got hurt because of me when you didn’t have to.”
He can’t help but smirk from how much you worry about him. It stirs at the part of his heart that longed for you. “You’re cute when you’re angry, kitten.”
“Well, I’m about to become downright adorable.” You march over to the front door where your purse lays. You fish around for the black card. Holding it aloft between two fingers, you say, “I’m going on a shopping spree, and I’ll be using my money to pay for it.” You hurl the black card onto the table next to the entrance.
Sylus moves. “Let’s not be hasty.” He quickly pulls you into his arms to keep you from leaving.
“Says the person that threw himself into danger for me.” You try to pry yourself away, but Sylus remains as steady as ever with those firm arms of his.
“We face the danger together. That doesn’t stop me from wanting to make sure my greatest treasure leaves unscathed.”
You sigh before sinking into his embrace and wrap your arms around his waist. “I don’t want you hurt either.”
“I’m right here, always.”
“Please promise me that you’ll try not to do something like that again.” You burrow your head under his chin, pressing your ear against his heartbeat. The faint thumps of his heart gradually eases the tension from your shoulders. The rise and fall of his breathing pulls you deeper into a lull.
“I can’t promise that.”
You sigh, “Worth a shot.”
“There’s so many things that can happen. I will do my best to make sure that I return to you despite all the odds.”
You mumble, “I’m still mad at you.”
“I love you too.”
Xavier
The door to Xavier’s apartment opens to reveal the slumped form of the owner as he shuffles inside.
“Shen Xinghui, where have you been?” You stare at him from where you’re seated on his couch. Ever since Xavier went out without telling you where he went, you knew that he snuck out on some secret mission of his. Captain Jenna had confirmed she hadn’t sent Xavier anywhere.
Pissed off didn’t even begin to describe the fury simmering in your veins at his disappearance.
Xavier’s frozen form stayed in place at the apartment entrance where he’d close the door. His cerulean eyes trained on your pursed lips, narrowed eyes, and crossed arms.
“Starlight—”
“Where. Were. You?” You cut in.
Xavier hesitates for a moment before answering, “On a mission.”
“Try again.”
“It was a personal mission.” He scratches the back of his head while avoiding your eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I could have gone with you. I could have helped!”
“I didn’t want you to get hurt. It was a big undercover mission, and I didn’t know how long I would be gone.”
You leave the couch to stand in front of him. “I was worried for you. I even bothered Jeremiah everyday to see if he heard anything. He’s probably sick of me asking now.”
“You didn’t have to go to Jeremiah,” Xavier frowns.
“Because I should have heard it from you.”
Xavier hung his head low. “I’m sorry, Starlight. I’ll do better.” His form sways a little.
You still have frustrations, but it’s clear that Xavier is nearly dead on his feet. “We have a lot to talk about, but you’re tired and I want cuddles.”
A soft smile blooms on his face. “Of course.”
“And you have to tell me if you go anywhere.”
“Yes, Starlight.”
“And I want Bunnie’s Hot Pot on you for a week.”
“Whatever you want, my love.”
You sigh before opening your arms wide for him. “Come here.”
Xavier takes the invitation and burrows himself as close to you as possible. He noses against your neck. You sigh as you bring him close. “My bunny.”
Rafayel
You have Rafayel wrapped up in your arms, clinging to him as much as he loves to cling to you. “No.”
“Miss Bodyguard—”
“No.”
“I’ll be careful. You don’t have to worry.” Rafayel tries to pull away from your embrace, but you keep your arms locked to make sure his head remains tucked under your chin.
“I’m not sending you into danger alone. You will not go.” Your stubborn refusal as him smiling at how much his antics have rubbed off on his beloved bride.
Rafayel wraps his arms around you in return. “I know what I’m getting into. This is the best course of action to trap those exploiters.”
“Qi Yu, you are not going through with this plan. You are not giving yourself up as bait.” You cling to him tighter as if you could keep him from all the dangers of the world by trapping him in your embrace.
“Cutie, don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”
“That doesn’t mean you should throw yourself headfirst into such a hazardous plan. I don’t want you to have to go through this alone.”
“You worried about me, cutie?”
You slap his back. “Be serious.”
Rafayel heaves a big sigh as if he had to face an inconvenience. “Fine, fine. How about this? I’ll bring you along, and we can go do this together?”
“Was it really that hard to come up with an alternative plan?” You finally allow him to pull away from you. As you look into his sunset eyes, you can see hints of something shining in them. It disappears before you can identify it.
You pull him back to you. Rafayel hooks his chin over your shoulder. “We might be able to take a vacation afterwards.”
“Focus, fish boy.”
You can feel the pout he presses into your skin when his head dips to rest against the crook of your neck. “There’s no need for name-calling.”
You let out a giggle at his expense.
Not noticing the smirk that Rafayel hides from your eyes as you begin to look up plane tickets for yourself. “I’m happy you’ll be with me.”
Caleb
“Xia Yizhou.”
A pin drop could be heard.
A chill ran down Caleb’s spine.
He slowly turned his head to look back at you.
You stood behind him with your hands on your hips. Your eyebrow is raised as you take in the sight in front of you.
Caleb helping out another girl. And her hands are on his chest.
You knew she tripped and fell on Caleb. You knew that he was just helping someone from falling. You knew this wasn’t something to get upset over. You knew it was just an accident.
But red colors your vision from seeing the girl’s hands where they shouldn’t be.
Your Caleb’s chest.
The fire in your eyes had Caleb scrambling to get away from the girl. She stumbled slightly from Caleb’s sudden departure but he steadied her by just her hands before pulling away as if he’d been burned. He immediately shuffles around her to return to your side, but you are already walking away from public eyes.
Caleb’s height makes up the distance almost instantly, but you aren’t looking at him as he tries to take your clenched hand.
“Pipsqueak—”
“No.”
“You know—”
“I know.”
“It was just—”
“Not here.”
Caleb shuts up until you finish walking home. He’s pulled into the orbit that is your fury as you yank him through the door of your apartment and slam him into the closed door.
“What were you thinking? Letting her get her hands all over you?” You hiss as you lean into his space. You press your hands into his chest.
Exactly where the other girl’s hands were earlier.
Caleb couldn’t deny how much he loves this side of you. All sides of you. Wanting him as much as he wants you.
His arms come up to wrap around you, pulling you tighter against him. “I’m sorry, love. I’ll only hold you close to me like this. I won’t let any other girl touch me.”
“Not good enough,” you mumble into his chest.
Caleb unlocks his arms to sink down to his knees. Burying his face into your stomach. “Only yours. Always.”
“That’s a start,” you say, running your fingers through his hair.
There’s just something about Zayne seeing you in lingerie that you didn’t expect.
I headcanon that Zayne isn't the type to outright buy you lingerie at the beginning of your relationship, buuuut one time when you were both getting intimate, he noticed you wearing a matching sky-blue set underneath your cream pajamas. It wasn't anything too fancy, just a light-colored bra that sported a tiny white satin bow at the center of the material and matching panties adorned with white polka dots. You’d noticed the visible blush that covered his ears, with his cheeks dusted in a similar pink as his eyes slowly raked over the fabric covering you with his lips parted, all the while his fingers traced the curve of your tits and landed on the white satin bow. “You are breathtaking, my love. And this fabric only serves to heighten your beauty.” He’d whisper, his voice cracking.
Loves, loves, loooves those sheer-fabric babydoll tops where he can just almost see your beautiful skin underneath.
Zayne's usually composed brain would short-circuit when you wear something backless, preferably something with intricate designs at the back so that he can take his own sweet time unwrapping you, even though he’d be getting impatient under his slacks. As a surgeon, he’d use clinical precision with each clip and hook, savoring the time taken to undress you. The fact that he can appreciate you like this by stepping out of line (in his words) is so fucking addictive to him.
Zayne would love those panties that open right in the crotch area so that he could snap the fabric open himself. But before that, he’d grin up at you smugly from between your legs, green eyes twinkling as he leans down between your thighs to snap the fabric open with his teeth. Just to be a tease, he’d blow cool air using his Evol from his lips right at your entrance, making you arch your back at the temperature difference. “This is the perfect remedy for me to chase away my exhaustion.”
When you surprise Zayne with a new set you’d just bought, an icy blue lingerie set that is decorated with little silver snowflakes, he’d just stand in the doorway, dumbfounded and in awe. “I wonder how long you were planning to pull this stunt on me." He’d whisper, stalking towards you slowly as he takes the ethereal sight of his love in front of him, thanking his lucky stars he gets to have you like this.
There’s a time you’re both browsing at the mall and happen to stop by a store that showcases a model wearing a powder-blue babydoll top, making your eyes crinkle in excitement. You clasp your hands and nudge Zayne on the elbow playfully, only for him to revert his already blushing gaze from the mannequin, as he couldn't help but picture you in it. “What do you think?” You’d ask, only for him to clear his throat and adjust his tie to admit lowly, “Well, I wouldn't be opposed to it.” Next thing you know, you’re walking out of the store with a little white bag and Zayne tucking his wallet into his pocket.
He’d also definitely be the type to initiate roleplay when you sit on the edge of the bed wearing the same powder-blue babydoll top he bought for you, legs spread apart so that Zayne can get the full view of the tantalizing dessert that’s waiting for him. After all, he was a man who favored sweetness, on the tongue and otherwise. “After conducting a preliminary visual analysis, it seems my patient requires a more hands-on demonstration.”
Zayne would also be the type to have you sit on top of him and grind down his hardening cock while you're wearing a silk camisole in a soft cloud-blue. While his hands massage the soft plush of your ass, an excuse he brought up just to help relieve your tension (or so he says), he’d reach up to your shoulder and take the strap of the camisole between his teeth to tug it down your arm as he whispers, “Is this what you wanted?” He’d look up at you with the most earnest eyes ever, holding you with fervor like you might freeze away from his grasp again.
You’ve seen those big floofy robes that have feathers at the sleeves and the base of the robe, yeah? If you’d be walking around the house wearing one of those, Zayne would just subtly eye you as you walk around, not saying anything just yet. But when you reach the kitchen to get a glass of water, you’d hear the soft shut of a laptop before he walks towards you. “I see that you’ve begun upgrading your wardrobe since our last…encounter.” He’d stop right in front of you before swiftly placing you on the kitchen counter, glass long forgotten. He’d absolutely devour the act of spreading the robe apart slowly to reveal your bare legs to him, relishing the way the feathers feel on the tips of his fingers.
I think Zayne would enjoy one of those bras that snap right in the middle, for easier access, of course. There’s a time when Zayne gets needy for you after a long night at the Akso Hospital’s gala dinner. He gets impatient and can’t wait till he gets home because you’re dressed like temptation itself. His knuckles get white as he grips the steering wheel until he decides to stop right at the side of the road. With one swift movement, he unclasps his seatbelt and reaches for you, the dress you were wearing that night just taunting him to his limit. “Forgive me, my love, I can’t seem to wait anymore.” He’d pant as he reaches forward to rid you of your dress, only for his eyes to slightly widen as he sees a small metal clasp nestled perfectly between your tits. When he snaps it open, his pupils dilate, and his lips part like a starved man that just found water. “This is…an excellent little device.” He’d latch his mouth to your tit immediately, groaning when you thread your fingers in his hair to keep him there.
Zayne loves it when you get more comfortable around him and at home. While Zayne is busy reading his book before bed, he notices you getting into bed from the corner of his eye, wearing a light denim-colored slip dress that reaches your thighs. As you get into bed, the dress rides up your thigh and rests just barely under your ass. While it wasn't intentional at all, Zayne can’t help but shut his book immediately, turning around to curve his body behind yours to spoon you. He’d place his palm right behind your knee and slide it up veeeery slowly across the plush of your thigh, squeezing it gently before sliding up the slip dress to uncover your ass. Oh, and he’d let out a soft moan into your ears when he discovers you're wearing the cutest white thongs underneath. You’d whimper as he squeezes your ass before whispering in your ear, “I’m starting to think…you’re doing this on purpose.”
One night after fighting a grueling day at work, Zayne would offer you a massage to help relax your muscles. After you shower, you slip into a short pastel-blue silk robe, making Zayne pinch the bridge of his nose with his fingers because he knows he wouldn't be able to maintain his composure around you. But Zayne is a professional, renowned cardiac surgeon; he can maintain his composure in the most critical situations. Unfortunately…not around you. Because it's you. Regardless, he puts your comfort first and settles on your side and begins executing his massaging techniques, feeling the knots in each of your muscle groups relax in record time. You can’t help but let out little moans at how comforting it all feels, shutting your eyes and relaxing your body as you allow yourself to be taken care of by Zayne, who seems to be treasuring each of the heavenly sounds you make. All of a sudden, you’d feel something cold settle on your skin. Opening your eyes, you’d start to see little snowflakes fall around you and frost settle on your silk robe and your skin. “Zayne, your Evol…” You’d whisper, looking up at him with concern. “Apologies. My condition…” He trails off, bringing your palm to cup his cheek. He leans into the curve of your palm before slowly whispering. “However, there are certain things we can do to raise our body temperature.”
A.N: Some Zayne lingerie hcs that were loooong coming. Thank you for trying this cookie!
Credits to @cursed-carmine, @pixopix for the div!♡
originally posted Jan. 17th, 2026 on @headquarters90
Pairing: Rafayel x Reader
Tags: fluff, slight suggestive towards the end
Words: 173
Notes: very quick piece, been on my mind for a hot mind as him and xavier gives me extreme cuteness agression. his cheeks get squished every time he's in the cafe lmao
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Rafayel looked at you, blinking, as your hands cupped his cheeks before his nose scrunched as they soon squished against his cheeks, and you pressed a kiss against his nose.
“You’re too cute!” You declared, squishing his cheeks once more before you dropped your hands, a deep sigh leaving you. “It’s unfair.”
“…unfair,” he echoed, one of his hands coming up to rub against your cheek. “I was the one assaulted and you’re claiming it’s unfair!”
“I can bite instead?”
“…that would turn into something else, cutie, and you know that.”
You grinned at him before reaching out, pinching his cheek, and he let out a yelp, pushing your hands away.
“Cutie!” He whined, rubbing his cheek again as he pouted.
“Stop being cute!”
“I’m not doing anything!”
His hand caught your wrist before you could pinch his other cheek and he tugged you to him, his other arm wrapping around your waist as he pouted down at you.
“You o-!”
A curse left him as he felt teeth press against his shoulder, his hand tightening around your wrist a tad, and a low murmur of your name passed his lips.
“Troublemaker,” he added with a sigh before dipping his head low to press his lips against yours.
colonel caleb x mechanic!nonMC!reader, who's the only person he ever lets touch his bionic arm
Colonel Xia--who used to be known as Caleb to his loved ones--doesn't seek out help. It comes with the job, when the said job includes his own subordinates betraying him more often than it should happen. Everything he can do (which is a lot), he'll do himself unless there's an absolute emergency. Especially, when it comes to his injuries.
He's grown accustomed to fixing up his own wounds. He wraps the bandages around his arm or leg and then pulls it tight with his bionic arm. He has to use his teeth to keep it in place as he binds it in place, grimacing when it squeezes his skin just a little too hard. He sucks in a breath through his teeth before he disinfectants the wounds. He uses his evol to bring the medical cart closer when he accidentally kicks it away from jolting in pain. He glowers at anyone who dares to enter the room when he's tending to himself--warningly. Defiantly. His men know not to bother him anymore when he's injured, even if they're simply worried for their colonel.
The only caveat comes when his bionic arm malfunctions. It's supposed to have an emergency repair system--and it does--but he somehow breaks it again. The nature of his work, he supposes. He curses the arm, often, because it serves as a reminder for the event that changed the course of his life. It haunts him like a curse--too essential for him to tear away. And to make things worse, it breaks often. Can this thing cause him anything but trouble?
He wouldn't be so perplexed if it wasn't for the fact that his arm is made of technology beyond his own skills, though he's adamant to believe otherwise.
The wires twitch persistently as he picks at it for hours, bags sagging at his eyes because he's supposed to be catching up on the sleep he never gets. He's lost track of what he's attempted and what he plans on trying next. Eventually, he hisses in frustration and stalks to the lab, deciding he needs a new set of tools.
The only other person who'd be here this late is you.
You blink at him, eyes wide as you process who he is. He's seen you once or twice around the base. Usually with all the other lab employees, and usually with your head shyly peering at the shoes of people walking by. So he's not very surprised when you shriek and nearly drop the project you've been working on for months.
He barely catches it with his evol in time.
It must be the fact that you look like a scared cat as you sit him down at the desk. It must be that your hands seem too afraid to get close to him with your tools. It must be that in the hour that he spends sitting just a foot away from you, you only meet his eyes once. But for some odd reason, he lets you repair his arm in a comfortable silence.
And it must be the proud smile adorning your lips once his arm starts working again, that he seems to notice you a bit more after that.
He's more than aware that you're at least a tad afraid of him. Most people at the base are, and he doesn't blame any of them given that all he does is glare or command. It hasn't bothered him in the past. But he finds that he doesn't love when you spot him in the halls, and it sends you immediately scurrying the other direction.
Caleb returns again a month later for another repair. And then another. Until it becomes a routine for him to show up at the dead of night, when it seems like you're the only ones still awake in Skyhaven. The soft whirring and clicking from the work you're doing on his arm is all that echoes in the empty lab, so that all he can focus on is the way your hair grazes over the surface of his synthetic skin to look closer.
He curses his inability to feel through the arm. He curses the damn thing over and over again.
The third repair, you beam at him brightly when he tells you his thanks in a soft murmur. It still appears stiff, but it's the kind of smile that he doesn't see often in his work.
By the fifth, you smile at him as he enters the lab.
By the sixth, you stop avoiding him in the halls.
By the eighth, he starts to take the route to his office that passes by your lab, even if it takes longer.
As you work, he watches you hold his bionic arm in your hands, examining the wires like they're the most interesting thing in the world. He can see your fingertips gently touching his skin, and he thinks he can almost feel them. You fuss, insisting he needs to start using the more certified mechanics, but he's barely listening.
When you notice that he's not speaking and simply staring at you with a gentle gaze, you freeze. His eyes lock with yours. They're a nice shade, he thinks, especially up close. You're so close that he can see his own reflection in your irises. Your hand falls from his arm slowly, and he intertwines his with yours when it gets close.
Caleb flexes his fingers between yours. "Why would I go to someone else when you can fix me up this well?"
He half expects you to pull away. He wouldn't blame you either. But after a beat of silence that feels like an eternity to him, you just smile. Something he's come to grow too fond of.
And when you squeeze his hand back, he wonders if the arm isn't so bad. An ugly reminder, sure. He still despises that he can't even feel you squeeze back. But he thinks that if you work on it long enough--if you fix him enough--he'll grow somewhat grateful for it. Perhaps it'll become a part of him. Never quite a part of his flesh, but his being.
Maybe one day, it won't simply belong to Colonel Xia, but be a part of Caleb.
