#Love and deepspace zayne

[qinche-cvmslvt]

WEAR HEADPHONES

NSFW

TLC from Doctor Zayne

Once again, all audio comes from the game except for the music. No AI.

[itzpookiepooh]

Gimme Kiss

You kiss him and then wipe it off

Zayne was about to leave for work when he kissed your forehead and you wiped it off. He stood there in confusion. Why would you do that?

“Im leaving for work.” He says slowly, his eyes not leaving your figure. “Okay! Have a great day, love you.” You kiss his lips only to wipe it off again.

The stare he gave you could put you in the hospital. He kissed your forehead again to which you wiped it off in disgust. You wiped your hands on your pants after as well. He just stared at you blankly, he doesn’t have time for this nor does he enjoy this.

The room felt icy as you look at your husband whose evol is 2 seconds from taking you out. You jump at his icy stare before rushing over to him and peppering him in kisses. He sighs in content his eyes fluttering shut as he finally places a sweet kiss on your lips.

“Have a good day!” You smile nervously as you fix his tie.

That’s what he thought.

You kissed him softly and stepped back to wipe it off. He tilted his head in confusion. Why are you wiping away his kiss? Did his breath stink? Did he stink?

“Why are you doing that?” He asks genuinely. He breathes into his hand sniffing it. He just brushed his teeth what was the issue?

“Doing what?” You ask genuinely confused as you put hand sanitizer on. You went to walk away before you were pulled back by his evol. He’s immediately peppering you in kisses every time you wipe it off. You are basically being suffocated in wet kisses, you think you might even drown.

“If you wipe it off again I’ll do worse.” He threatens as he’s dipping you. You were surely getting a core workout in this position. Your whiny tone breaks through his muffled kisses, “It’s wet!”

You unconsciously wipe off the wet kisses making you freeze. Do you know what you got in return? He licked your whole cheek like a damn dog. You were so frozen in disgust you didn’t even notice he kissed your lips and left for work.

You were never doing that again.

You placed a kiss on his lips before his meeting. He smiled softly at you which was immediately wiped off his face when you did what you did. You wiped your lips harshly before turning to walk away. His evol engulfs you as he pulls you back to him. He kisses you passionately leaving you dizzy.

“Now, try wiping that off.” His rich laugh filling the hallway before he places on last kiss on the crown of your head.

You were so dazed that you could barely register what he said. You were stuck in the hallway wondering what went wrong with your prank.

You wiped off about 12 kisses at this point and if you thought that was stopping this bunny you were wrong. Every single one you wiped he replaced. Not an ounce of annoyance from his side. It was just this intense stare waiting for you to wipe it off again.

“Xavier please.” You begged sternly but he refused to stop if you were just going to cancel it out. You were more surprised at how relentless he was. Usually people left someone alone if the problem kept occurring but not Xavier.

“Then stop wiping it off.” He countered and in the end he won because he pinned you down so you wouldn’t wipe it off again. As revenge he drowned you in kisses.

He’s dramatic so when you did it the second time he assumed you hated him. He got on his hands and knees and gagged and dry heaved. You just stared at him with wide eyes. There was no way he was doing this right now.

“She hates me! She wants me to die!” He mumbled to himself making him look crazy.

What fixed it? Kissing him correctly only to end with him kissing you over 800 times. A bit of an exaggeration? Perhaps but your face felt like it was burning at this point.

“Rafayel, enough!” You yelled but that didn’t stop that fish from kissing you anywhere else.

You asked, I delivered 🤍

[aethercoreria]

[kaiist]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 ⋯ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐒

𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑

The soft melody from his expensive royal-looking piano had drawn you in. Xavier was elsewhere in the living room, probably asleep. You couldn’t resist pressing a few keys, trying to recreate the tune he’d played yesterday. As you leaned over to reach a higher note, your sleeve caught on several keys, and with a sickening crack, they snapped loose.

Your hands flew to your mouth. Three keys hung at awkward angles, completely broken from their moorings. The room suddenly felt too small, your heart pounding as tears welled in your eyes.

You heard his footsteps before you saw him in the doorway. His eyes widened slightly at your tears.

“I’m so sorry,” you blurted. “I was just—I didn’t mean to—” You couldn’t finish the sentence as your voice cracked.

“Why are you crying?” he asked. He walk towards you, then knelt beside you, hands gentle as he took the broken piano keys from your trembling fingers.

“The piano...” you managed. “I broke it... I’ll pay for repairs, I promise...” you stammered, wiping at your eyes.

Xavier glanced at the damaged instrument, then back to you. A small smile formed at the corners of his mouth as he sat beside you.

“It was an accident,” he said simply, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb, his warm palm cupping your face. His touch lingered there, gentle and reassuring.

“But it’s your piano,” you insisted.

“The keys were already weak,” he replied with a slight shrug. “It’s already old, and I’ve been meaning to replace it.”

When you still looked uncertain, he added, “I don’t want you to be upset. Things break, and it’s okay.”

The way he said it—so matter-of-fact yet somehow gentle—made you feel like the broken piano truly was insignificant to him. In Xavier’s quiet, straightforward way, he’d made it clear that your distress concerned him far more than any damaged items.

𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄

The hospital had called Zayne in for emergency surgeries three nights in a row. When you woke up early on his rare day off and found him already at his desk in the home office, surrounded by patient reports, you decided breakfast was in order.

You pushed the door open with your hip, balancing a tray with coffee and toast, just as Zayne reached for a folder. Your foot caught on the edge of his rug, and before you could regain balance, hot coffee splashed across his desk—directly onto the stack of patient reports he’d brought home. Dark liquid seeped into what looked like hours of meticulous work.

“I’m so sorry!” Your voice pitched higher with panic, ignoring the stinging pain on your palms. “Zayne, I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean—” Your hands shook as you tried to salvage the papers, only smearing them further.

Zayne stood immediately, his chair rolling back. The stern lines of his face were there, but not directed at you.

“Stop,” he said firmly, holding your hands away, and taking the tray from your shaking hands and setting it aside before you dropped it too. “Leave the papers.”

Tears welled up despite your efforts. “Your reports, all your work... I just—I just ruined your day off... I’m really sorry…”

Zayne set the papers aside and surprised you by taking your warm hands in his, turning them over to examine your skin.

“Did you burn yourself?” he asked, his voice soft.

You shook your head.

“Good.” He guided you to sit in his chair. “These are just copies. I can print them again.”

“But—”

“No ‘but.’” His thumb stroked across your knuckles, a small gesture of affection that contrasted with his authoritative tone. “I keep digital backups of everything, so don’t worry. And don’t feel bad about an accident you couldn’t control.”

He leaned down, pressing a brief kiss to your forehead, then reached for his phone.

“The reports can wait. Let’s order some breakfast, and I’ll get us something to heal your palms.”

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋

The afternoon sunlight streamed through Rafayel’s studio windows, casting a golden glow across his workspace. You’d come to surprise him with lunch since he often forgot to eat when absorbed in his art.

As you walked between tables covered with half-finished projects, your bag caught on something. You turned to see a delicate sculpture teetering on its pedestal—a twisted form of glass and clay that Rafayel had spent weeks perfecting. Your heart stopped as it fell, shattering against the floor with a sound that seemed to echo forever.

“Oh…! No, no, no,” you whispered, dropping to your knees. Your fingers trembled as you tried to gather the larger pieces, tears blurring your vision.

“What happened? I heard—” Rafayel’s voice cut off as he entered the studio. You looked up, seeing his expression shift as he took in the scene.

“Rafayel, I’m so sorry,” your voice broke as you continued frantically collecting shards. “I can find someone who can repair it, or—”

“Hey, hey, stop!” He crossed the room quickly, kneeling beside you. “Leave it. You’ll cut yourself.”

When you continued reaching for a particularly sharp piece, he gently captured your hands.

“Your art…” you said, tears now falling freely. “I broke it...”

“It’s just clay and glass,” he said, pulling you away from the broken pieces and into his arms. “I can make another whenever I want.”

“But this one was special—”

“Not as special as you are to me.” Rafayel’s arms tightened around you as he rested his chin on top of your head. “You’re going to hurt yourself on these pieces,” he whispered. He rocked you gently until your breathing steadied, then pulled back to wipe your tears with his thumb.

“Besides,” he added casually, “now I have an excuse to try that new technique I’ve been thinking about. I’ve been wanting to replace that one with something new anyway. Do you wanna see, cutie?”

𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒

The wind through your hair, the purr of the engine between your legs—there was nothing like late-night rides on Sylus’s custom motorcycle. He’d let you borrow it occasionally, knowing how much you loved the freedom it gave you.

The evening ride had been your idea. “Just around the perimeter,” you’d suggested, and Sylus had agreed because honestly—what wouldn’t he do for you?

You didn’t see the oil slick until the bike suddenly skidded, then tumbled, throwing you clear but scraping across the pavement with a horrible screech of metal on asphalt. Pain shot through your arm as you landed hard.

He swore he’d never been so scared before. He just ditched his motorcycle and was at your side in an instant, his typically composed face taut with an emotion you rarely saw—fear.

“Don’t move,” he ordered, kneeling beside you, hands hovering as if afraid to touch you. “Where does it hurt?”

“The motorcycle—” you managed, tears forming as you looked at the mangled vehicle. Half the custom bodywork was destroyed, the handlebars twisted beyond recognition. “I’m so sorry—I’ll pay—I’ll—”

“Forget the motorcycle,” he snapped, voice sharp but hands gentle as they examined your scraped arm. He was mad at himself for letting the situation even happen.

You’d never seen him this shaken—Sylus, who always had a plan, who always remained calm and controlled.

“I shouldn’t have—” he cut himself off with a sigh before carefully helping you sit up. His fingers brushed your face, wiping away tears and examining you for injuries with tenderness. “I’m just glad the feisty kitten is all okay.” Sylus’s expression shifted to relief, though concern still lined his eyes.

“I’m sorry it got wrecked…” you whispered again.

“I have others,” he said dismissively. “Stop thinking about it.”

When he helped you to your feet, he kept his arm firmly around you, as if afraid you might vanish if he let go. The destroyed motorcycle lay forgotten on the road behind you as he carried you away to his own.

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁

The storage room in Caleb’s work room was cluttered with mementos from his piloting days. You were searching for an old photo album when your elbow knocked against something on a high shelf.

You turned just in time to see the model spacecraft—the intricate replica of Caleb’s first fighter that you’d given him last year—tumble and crash onto the floor. Pieces scattered everywhere, the delicate wings and engines breaking apart on impact.

Panic seized your chest as you dropped to your knees. Caleb had spent two days putting it together; you remembered how his face lit up with boyish excitement when you’d presented it to him. Now it lay in ruins.

Frantically, you gathered pieces, trying to fit them back together, but your shaking hands only made things worse. You were so focused on your desperate repair attempt that you didn’t hear the door open.

“Hey, what are you doing in—” Caleb’s voice cut off abruptly.

You looked up to see him staring at the broken model, he looked surprised but his gaze softened when your eyes met, and tears welled in yours as you held broken pieces in your trembling hands.

“I’m sorry…” you whispered, voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to—”

Before you could say more, he was on the floor beside you, pulling you on his lap, into a tight embrace. His arms were firm around you.

“Hey, hey, hey… it’s okay. It’s just a model,” he murmured against your hair, his voice steady and reassuring.

“But you worked so hard on it...”

He pulled back slightly, brushing tears from your face with a gentle thumb. His smile alone radiates comfort as he looks at you.

“Then we’ll build a new one together,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “And I bet we can make this one even better.” He looked down at the pieces scattered around you both. “Maybe add some modifications here and there, what do you think?”

His warm laughter finally broke through your guilt, and he held you close as if the broken model was the furthest thing from his mind.

Based on this request.

[snowvee]

──── 𝑮𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑳𝑬 𝑻𝑾𝑰𝑳𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻

╰ 𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆 LOVE AND DEEPSPACE

kindled: melting snow dreams + silent radiance

[manikas-whims]

this is how i see them

[theboredzaika]

This is so cute what- 😭😭😭😭😭

MC braiding her hair

Zayne: Can I do it?

MC: Oh, sure. Here I'll teach you.

Zayne: Thank you.

MC: Are you practicing for our future daughter?

Zayne: No.

MC: ...then, for other girls?

Zayne: Yes.

MC: WHAT!?

Zayne: It's for the children in my hospital. Before surgery, I want to braid their hair. When you play with someone's hair, they tend to relax a bit. So I want to practice by braiding your hair first.

MC: Oh, Zaynie...

[ib: a tiktok I saw, they're sooo sweet!]

[xinnn6]

‘Every woman’s love language is not having to ask.’

zayne taking half day off just to help us even though we haven’t asked him directly 🥺🥺🥺 god, I love him

[marshmallowbee13]

How many kids will they have?

Sylus:

Two girls. He's a devoted girl dad. Will sit still for makeovers and getting his nails done. Impeccable manners at tea parties.

Zayne:

A boy and a girl. Makes sure they focus on their studies and eat their vegetables... and rewards them by sharing his sweets stash with them. They like to brag to friends not that their father is an accomplished heart surgeon, but that their uncle is a monkey.

Xavier:

One girl. That child is the sweetest girl you will ever meet. She loves playing sword fights with daddy. Many a time, MC has asked Xavier to put their baby down for a nap, only to find he fell asleep instead, with their daughter playing with her toys around him.

Caleb:

Two boys. Rowdy little things, running all over the house and fighting over toys. They like wrestling with their daddy, especally when he uses his evol for fun flips. They make him a bit nervous when they claim they want to be a pilot like him. You know that video of the little girl giggling as her daddy takes her flying in a plane? That's them. They brag to all their friends that they get to fly with him.

Rafayel:

Mutiples. They end up with a set of twin boys and triplet girls. MC has to deal with 6 people constantly wanting her attention. With tons of art supplies all over the house, there are bound to be some rugrats drawing on the walls or the furniture. Instead of getting mad, Rafayel hangs a frame around them. "We gotta support their artistic talents!" he'd say. But after a conversation, he'd agree to get them to keep their art to paper or canvas.

[twmz-03]

LADS: When they find out youre not wearing panties

idk why i thought of this but its a good hc to think about … 🤔

Suggestive themes!!!!! Also youre wearing a dress btw for “easy access”

All headers come from pinterest

Zayne:

First, im going to say you guys are at his office and hes currently “working”

It started off simple and sweet. Asking how was his day so far and how was your day. Since he was only doing paper work he allowed you to stay with him in his office and keep him company.

Until things start getting a little heated. You start massaging his neck and then his shoulders and then you kiss him. However those kisses turn into longer more desperate ones until you end up sitting on his lap straddling him.

His hands start caressing you from your back leading down to your ass and then your thighs…slowly sneaking his way up under your dress then realizing… “wait… shes not wearing anything..”

He gets so flushed and opens his eyes asking “hey! Youre already exposed ?! I cant have you like this in public.” He then proceeds to lead you by the hand and clocking out calling it a day before taking you home and continuing the deed.

XAVIER:

THIS IS BASED OFF THE NIGHTLY Rendezvous. So you know xavier has you pinned against the damn wall. Or window. Hes holding your body so close to his, kissing your warm skin. One hand holding yours against the glass and the other finding its way down your waist, again to your ass slowly lifting your dress to see your cute panties.

However lo and behold hes actually surprised to find you wearing nothing. Hes so used to seeing you wearing cute lingerie with bows and lace but now that youre not wearing any. It made him extra hard. And just like that he takes you to the couch and eats you out.

Sylus:

Now with sylus, you two are at a gala. A very important event with very important people. Evil and Good.

Sylus has you near him at all times holding you by the waist. So as you and him are standing at a table drinking and chatting with another couple, he starts caressing your side. Going up and down slowly with his long fingers. Until his hands start going lower and lower to your ass. It is until then he realizes he cannot feel the string from your panties.

He doesnt show it, but he is so excited and turned on. Hes like “i suppose its okay since shes wearing a satin dress.” Like of course you would be able to see every line. So then he interrupts the couple and excuses himself, taking you with him. After you leave the venue, you teleport to your hotel. He lifts you up bridal style and carries you to your room and gently places you on the bed towering over you.

“How bold of you my love…” he says kissing you. First youre kind of confused until he lifts up your dress revealing nothing but bare skin. “Oh… surprise?” He chuckled ever so slighty. He then continues to kiss you building up the mood before he slowly starts grinding his clothed, hard cock against the slick of your wet cunt.

RAFAYEL:

Youre getting ready for bed changing into pjamas. Tonight you decided to wear just a silky night gown. However rafayel loveddd when you wore these little dresses. He thought they were the cutest things ever but you made them look sexy.

“Yayyy! You look so good.” He says as he cuddles you right away as soon as you get on the bed. Kissing your ears and neck. He loves touching you (i want to say because he love art and hes “studying human anatomy”) but yeah he loves it. So he starts massaging your breasts, to holding your hips and then lifting up that little night gown.

You finally lay on your back, not separating from his lips moaning into every kiss. His fingers are looking for the hem of your panties but he cant find it until he slowly moves his fingers toward your exposed hot wet fold. “I see you came prepared cutie.” He says moving one finger up and down your clit before inserting one finger at a time.

I hope yall enjoyed this. I couldnt sleep so i decided to write this fanfiction headcanons. What better thing to do when you cant sleep huh. I also didnt add caleb because i know nothing about his character but once i figure out more by playing i might add him. Again if you have any suggestions or headcanons you want me to write about let me know im all ears. 😴

[that-one-scoundrel]

has this been done before?

[thecoolestastrophile]

I was looking for this fic a while ago and finally found it again 😋 I absolutely love complete devotion in a man and this is just perfect

Guard Dog AU - Zayne

Summary: AU where you are the Foreseer, and Zayne is a human you've given your blessing to who has devoted his life to staying by your side, protecting you, and worshipping you. He would do anything for you. Anything.

Word County: 2744

Note: Sooooo, I went a bit feral with this one... Could be interpreted as very sub-like behavior for Zayne, but I feel like we all know this man just wants to worship his partner. So yah. I'll be writing similar au's for the other guys too, but this one might be my magnum opus.

Coming soon: Sylus / Xavier / Rafayel

Warning: Gets a little, spicy at the end, but mostly by implication. Reader likes to touch Zayne's face a lot. Someone calls Zayne a concubine and you get pissed.

Enjoy!

---

“Kneel.”

You stare, features a mask of icy indifference, at the human envoy wavering at the foot of your throne. They shiver in their thick coats, no material warm enough to keep out the biting cold of the Tower of Thorns. The biting cold of your glare.

Yet, still, they don’t kneel. You can see the hesitation on their faces, the pride flashing behind their irises. Humans. They always come, high and mighty, thinking themselves better than you, a demigod.

Your lips part, a scathing reproach ready on your tongue, but you don’t get the chance to correct their insolence.

“I said. Kneel.”

Zayne slams his staff into the polished, white granite. The sound of it echoes all the way to the far halls of the tower. The thinly veiled threat behind his words is unmistakable. Kneel before I make you.

The humans all crumble under the weight of his command. They drop to their knees, one by one, trembling at the pure contempt burning behind his gaze. Contempt for them and their human greed. They don’t even deserve to gaze upon the threads of your robes, let alone kneel in your presence, yet they think themselves above it? You may have mercy on their kind, but Zayne would rather cut them to their knees than allow them to show you such disrespect.

A faint smile ghosts across your lips. With the barest flick of your fingers, Zayne returns obediently to your side. He drops gracefully to one knee, head bowed, eyes locked on the unblemished edge of your robes.

It’s almost amusing, watching him turn so docile, so small for you. A man who conquers you in height and strength, who holds himself with the regal poise of royalty, who you’ve blessed with powers no man can dream of - a submissive guard dog at your feet. Ready to kill if you desire him to. Willing to die for you.

“Foreseer-”

Your smile falls away. Right, the humans. Eyes icing over once more, you turn your gaze to the envoy, regarding them with disinterest.

“What do you want, that you’ve come all this way and disturbed my peace?” Your voice rings like a delicate chime, but carries the bite of a frigid river. 

The one who spoke - a man dressed in expensive looking furs, his skin covered in a layer of sweat - flinches at the sharpness of your tone. He seems to steel himself for a moment, collecting whatever pathetic bravery he has gained from his comfortable life, and looks up at you with a determined glare.

“We’ve come here for a prophecy, Foreseer,” he starts again, voice muggish and demanding, “Our kingdom has experienced prosperity in the passing years and our king would like to be certain that it will continue.”

Zayne tenses beside you, his fingers tightening around his staff. You can see him fighting the urge to put this man in his place, his jaw drawing so taut it almost looks painful. Letting out a low hum, you reach out and brush your fingers through the dark strands of hair. A silent request. Zayne wavers, his breath faltering as all his attention falls back on you. 

Always on you. 

Your touch is gentle but insistent, your delicate fingertips tracing his temple, his cheek, his jaw. It leaves his skin tingling, pleasant and cold. It’s an addictive feeling and he can’t help but yearn for more. Zayne nuzzles into your palm, pressing his lips to your skin in reverent gratitude when you give him exactly what he wants, your fingers brushing more firmly against his face.

An uncomfortable cough breaks the silence, “Foreseer-”

“I heard your explanation,” you interrupt him sharply, a wave of frustration washing over you. Zayne can feel it, feels his own frustration at having your attention drawn away from him. But he doesn’t dare make that known, instead watching your face attentively as you speak. “And I will remind you that my prophecies will not be bound to your expectations. They are bound to nothing but fate, so I advise you to deliberate on what you are asking of me.”

“Our King simply wants to ensure that our prosperity will continue,” the man insists, as if you’re the fool who is missing the point. He levels you with a look of disdain, his eyes not so subtly darting to the hand you now have resting in Zayne’s hair. “Though I am certain now that our Highness would not care for the words of a mere oracle who keeps a concubine as her guard.”

The air in the chamber goes deathly still once the words leave his mouth.

Your eyes narrow at the man, glacier and even, but he keeps his chin held high. The rest of the envoy all shift, sharing uneasy glances between themselves. It seems even they know that what he said was a foolish mistake.

One should not anger a god so carelessly.

Slowly, deliberately, you stand from your throne. A flick of your hand and your own scepter appears from the air, the Creatio Protocore glinting dangerously from its tangle of wood. All eyes fall on it, a mix of fear and greed, all eyes except for Zayne’s, which remain glued to you.

Every step you take, every subtle movement, is controlled, the utter definition of grace. Even the air bows to you, shivering around your form, any remaining warmth fleeing from your presence. Tendrils of ice spread along the granite, creeping up the walls, covering the windows, turning the room into a prison of your anger.

And Zayne can’t help but watch, transfixed, adoration curling in the depths of his being. Because this is you, his goddess, his queen. He may be your guardian, but he is well aware that his title is by grace alone, and not necessity. You’ve never needed him. Not like this.

“You seem unaware of whom you speak to,” you murmur, patience tested and gone, “So let me remind you.”

The man lets out a yelp as ice suddenly grips his boots. You feel a flicker of satisfaction at the panic in his eyes, his confidence disappearing like a leaf carried away by the wind. His companions scatter back, looking on in terror as the ice travels up his legs, encasing the entire lower half of his body.

“I am the Foreseer,” you say, stopping a mere foot away from him. “The demigod of the Tower of Thorns. This is my domain, my home, and you are a pest. I owe you nothing. I owe your king nothing. As far as I am concerned, he is beneath me.”

“You insolent- He is our king!” The man spirts, turning a drastic shade of red. “I demand you show him respect, you despicable wi-”

A dagger presses deftly to the man’s neck and he goes silent, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head.

“Be silent,” Zayne snarls, “How dare you speak to the Foreseer in such a way.”

You glance at him over the man’s shoulder, brow flicking up. Any other time, it would warm your heart to see Zayne stand up for you, and you would gladly let him cross the boundaries of his position, to act as he sees fit. To act freely. But in this moment, all you can feel is the rage boiling in the depths of your soul. It’s your turn to show them their mistakes.

So you click your tongue, eyes narrowing, “I did not ask for you to intervene, my dearest.”

Zayne doesn’t miss the sharp disapproval in your voice, his breath catching somewhere in his chest. How thoughtless of him. Dagger slipping back into the sleeve of his robes, he forces himself to step back, head bowed like a wolf bearing its neck submissively.

“I apologize, my lady.”

You don’t offer your forgiveness, only giving him a stiff nod, and Zayne can feel his skin prickle with unease. Every fiber of his being aches, desperate to earn your affection, to please you, to offer an apology you deem sufficient.

If you want him to grovel, he will. If you want him to beg, he’ll do so until his voice gives out. Even if you want to punish him, he’d take it with such deep affection, because anything from you is more than he deserves.

But until you ask anything of him, all he can do is wait.

And currently, you must deal with the nuisance in front of you, even if you can feel Zayne’s laden eyes locked on you so intently.

“Now let’s talk about your king, shall we?” You muse, turning your attention back to the man. He swallows, regret showing in the way his hands tremble so viciously. “You humans have such a twisted view of power. Whether it’s money or prosperity or health. You are all subject to fate and that is why you hate my prophecy. Your king is no different, and I presume he’s looking for someone to blame when your land inevitably falls into poverty. In fact, I feel confident in saying he already sees it coming, and I would wager that he is the sole cause of it. Am I wrong?”

A low murmur spreads among the envoy. The man goes nearly purple in front of you, face tight with indignation, but he doesn’t dare utter a word, not with the looming threat of Zayne’s blade still nearby. 

You don’t need him to confirm what you already know, though. And you’ve had enough of this messing around. The day has been too long, and you desire nothing more than to rest.

“Tell your king that this mere oracle wishes him well in his remaining time on the throne,” you chime and turn to walk away. Your voice carries on over the clicking of your heels, “However short that time might be.”

“You can’t-! Foreseer!”

“See them out, my dearest, and then meet me in my quarters.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Foreseer-!” The man calls again, but Zayne doesn’t even allow him another glimpse at your figure. He’s lost that honor.

“I believe it’s time for you to leave,” he snaps, and breaks the spell of your ice.

The man immediately tries to make a run for you, desperation carved into every line of his face, but Zayne catches him by the collar of his coat and throws him back towards the rest of his party. His eyes set on them, harsh and cold, a sneer pulling at his lips.

“She has dismissed you. I suggest you leave quietly before you test my patience.”

“I will not listen to the orders of a-”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a sigil carve into the air before a blinding light fills the space. The humans flee from the sudden ice clawing at their feet, voices tight with panic, boots slipping against the granite in their desperation.

A faint smile pulls at your lips as you dip into a hallway. Zayne always has been good at scaring people away.

It’s a quiet venture to your room at the top of the tower after that. The howling gale outside is all you can hear, muffled by the thick stone of the tower’s walls. It’s a somehow comforting sound, soothing some your prickled nerves.

Still, you feel tense as you settle on the edge of your bed. Dealing with the humans always does this to you. That’s why you ended up here, in the desolate, snowy mountains, far from any village or kingdom. Dealing with them is too exhausting.

How many humans have come to you, begging for an audience, only to throw themselves into a rage after you share one of your prophecies? A prophecy you can’t control, you can’t change. Yet they always blame you. 

You can hardly be blamed for resenting their kind.

All of them except Zayne.

Your dearest. Your steadfast peace. The comfort of your isolation was no match when he came to your tower.

And your frustration melts like snow in the springtime when he appears at your door, wavering at threshold. Hesitation furrows his brow, his fingers twitching against the frame. Features softening, you gesture for him to enter.

“Come here, my dearest,” you murmur, tone impossibly gentle.

He hesitates for only a moment before sweeping across the room, reaching you with only a few long strides. You watch as he kneels at your feet, the thick fur of his robes gathering on the stone floor around him. And of course you notice the way his lips press together so vehemently, like he’s biting back something.

“Please speak, darling.”

Zayne’s eyes flutter shut, a shuddering breath passing his lips. You always say the term with such sweetness, such tenderness. It makes him feel dizzy and near breathless, loved in a way that makes his chest ache.

“May I touch you?” He asks, voice a low rasp.

You don’t even have to think to answer, “Of course you may, my dearest.”

With all the care in the world, Zayne gathers the edge of your robes in his gloved hand, drawing the silken material to his lips. His touch is reverent, like even the clothes on your body are deserving of worship. He takes his time, showering each fiber with devout affection, eyes slowly trailing up the material to gaze at you through ebony eyelashes. And you can’t help the way your breath falters so easily for him, always taken aback by the desperation, the hunger you find there.

Something dark glints behind those mottled depths at the sound. Slowly, experimentally he presses closer. When you don’t correct him, his fingers brush questioningly against your ankle, the warmth of his skin seeping through the leather of his gloves. And you’ve never been one to deny him.

Parting your legs, you let Zayne settle between them, your knees bracketing his wide shoulders. His fingers trace adoringly up and down your leg as he nuzzles into your clothed thigh, like a pup starved for affection. You can feel the warmth of his breath, even through the thick material of your cloak, and it makes your usually sharp mind spin.

“Please forgive my earlier thoughtlessness, my love,” he murmurs, voice hoarse, lips brushing insistently against your inner thigh. “I will accept any punishment to atone for my actions.”

Gods, you never thought you would be so weak for one man. But how could you not be? How can you not crumble under such earnest devotion?

You’d freeze the world over if it meant having him forever at your side.

“You have quite the tactic for coaxing me to forgive you,” you breathe, reaching a hand down to trace through his hair. Zayne immediately leans into your touch, molten eyes soft with feigned innocence.

“I am simply a humble servant, unworthy of your favor, my lady,” he hums, eyelashes fluttering when your grip tightens momentarily in his hair. It’s only then a mischievous smile reveals itself on his lips. “How can I coax a goddess such as yourself to do something against your will?”

“You know full well what you’re doing, dearest.” You lean down, until your cool breath ghosts over his skin, sending a shiver through Zayne’s body. His bravado slips away, replaced by an uneven breath, his lips parting ever so slightly. “And there’s no need for it. Everything I have, everything I am, is yours, and that includes my forgiveness. All you ever have to do is ask.”

“You shouldn’t offer such things so lightly, my lady,” Zayne rasps, fingers pressing tightly into the softness of your leg as he forces himself to glance away. “You underestimate how selfish my desire for you is. I would take everything if you allowed it.”

Suddenly, your touch is on his chin, drawing his face back to yours, until he can feel the brush of your lips against his, taunting and delicate.

“If you want everything,” you challenge softly, gaze unwavering, “then take it.”

Zayne inhales sharply. And then his lips are on yours, kissing you so deeply, so tenderly, like he wants to draw the very breath from your lungs, like you’re the only one who can sate his hunger burning inside of him.

And you let him. You let him take everything he desires, because he always gives you everything you could ever desire.

That is how it has always been between the two of you. And that’s how it will always be.

---

This felt pretty different from what I usually write. I was inspired by an Xavier fic I read sometime back, and I just loooove the concept of truly feral levels of loyalty. And I love the idea of reader being just a feral for him.

Can't wait to write Sylus' 😉

[dellieghtful]

[ZAYNE] LADS: Saying Things They Don't Mean

🍓A/N: Here comes another one >:3 we'll start off with the angsty and then I'll give u guys the groveling & yearning \\( •̀ω•́ )// I'm going to try and write for all the guys before I decide to release a longer series for this

SYNOPSIS: After a bad day, you both end up in an argument and to say the least, some things are truly better off left unsaid.

Masterlist | Rulebook | Tags

📍Character/s: Zayne

Tags: @animegamerfox @justanotherreader658

Xavier | Rafayel

Today just wasn't the day. It was surgery after surgery, consultation after consultation. The work just kept coming non-stop for the entire day and despite Zayne's cool and calm exterior, he was nearing the brink of exhaustion. Working an additional and unexpected 8-hour shift was not in his bingo card for this week. The worst part? He missed out a date with you. The only free day he was supposed to have was spent on another shift because the hospital was short-staffed as of the moment. Despite you, being kind and understanding partner with Zayne and his busy schedule, he couldn't help but feel guilty about not being able to exactly provide all your needs and wants just like any other partner would be capable of providing.

Capable. Was he even capable of taking care of you? At some points throughout your relationship, Zayne would go through the process of self-doubt. Funny, you'd think the man who just has about everything one needs before the age of 30 would doubt himself and his own capabilities?

Zayne would often ask himself if he was deserving enough to be sheltered with such love and kindness. Rubbing his temples, attempting to soothe the ache, he prepares and calls in his next patient to cater for the hour.

Zayne had worked himself to death that day, morning to night. If he'd look out the window right now, he could give out an estimate that it's way past 6:00PM. 6:50PM at most, I should've have gotten home about an hour ago. At home, with you. Zayne could feel himself take in a deep breathe and let out an exhausted sigh as he continued to eye the never-ending pile of documents on his table.

Zayne, choosing to not dwell on it, took out another pile and began skimming through the contents and carefully planting his signature at the last page of the file before tucking it away. Zayne had followed this smooth and gentle rhythm of opening folders, flipping the pages, then signing the documents. Unknowingly being stuck in a trance, Zayne had not realize the soft knocks coming from his door.

You were on the other side of the door, patiently waiting for Zayne's smooth and calm voice to give you the go-signal to come inside the room. You passed by the reception not too long ago, asking for your oh-so busy doctor of a boyfriend. Yvonne, had informed you that Zayne was busy being locked up in his office. You, then decided, to take yourself to his office with a fresh bag of takeout for dinner. You know with Zayne's busy schedule at the hospital, he probably skipped out a meal or two, not to mention you were both supposed to spend his free day to celebrate your 7th month of being officially together as a couple.

It had been a good 5 minutes and Zayne had not yet called out or come to open the door for you. You, then decided to give it another try before touching the knob of the door and pushing it open. You hadn't told Zayne you were coming today because you hoped to surprise him at work and spend the remainder of the night with him to keep him company before going home for the day.

"My love," Zayne called out, pulling himself out of the focused trance he put himself with the documents he had in hand. Sparing not a second longer, he stood up and walked towards you to cup your face and welcome you with such a warm gaze. "You did not tell me you were coming in today," He continued, already-eyeing the bags that you were holding which he presumes are dinner take-outs.

"I wanted to see you today," You started, moving your eyes past him and focusing your gaze towards the growing pile of paper works on his table. You couldn't help but scrunch your brows. "You've been overworking yourself again today".

Zayne already knew where you heading with this conversation. You and Zayne had always had the tendency to argue about his overworking habit that he can somehow never get over despite you always bringing up your concern about his health. You were his girlfriend, it was part of your job description to look after your boyfriend. Wasn't it?

Or does my opinion of him mean little of value to him?

And with that single thought, it made your heart ache a little. But, you quickly pushed that thought away in hopes of spending the remainder of the night in a good mood with a simple dinner takeout with your boyfriend.

"I brought you dinner!" You said, putting up a smile and bringing the bags of takeout in front of Zayne's face, hoping to change the subject and bring a up a better mood into the atmosphere of Zayne's office.

"I was hoping we could spend some time together over dinner. I didn't bother texting about my visit since I knew you'd be swamped with work". You said, going around your 6-foot something boyfriend and heading over to the coffee table near the couches to place the food on the table.

"I really appreciate the gesture but, you really didn't have too." Zayne said, breaking the silence between the both of you as you sat on opposite ends of the table. "Oh don't be like that. You've been working a lot lately, this is the least I can do to support my very hardworking boyfriend". You responded, with a small smile decorating your face as you pick up your meal and shove a spoonful of it in your mouth, happily chewing away your meal.

"No, I mean, you can't keep making unannounced visits here especially during the busier days". Zayne responded, taking off his glasses, and rubbing the curved space in-between his forehead and nose bridge as if attempting to ease an incoming headache. "You know how many people I have to cater from morning to night. I'd appreciate it if you could at least give me a heads-up before you come inside here like it's your second home".

"What are you saying?" You stared at him, as you carefully drop the spoon back into the box of takeout and placing the box onto the table. "I'm sorry, I didn't think I needed to book an appointment to come see my boyfriend after a busy work day".

"Well, maybe it is something to take into consideration the next time you do visit". Zayne had responded. What on earth was going on with him today? You knew where this conversation was already heading yet he chooses to act this way after you spent time out of your day-off to come visit and enjoy a good meal with him? As if the mere idea of seeing you, the mere thought of spending time with you wasn't part of his rigidly-made schedule for the day. Was being here in his presence a nuisance to him?

"Are you really going to pull this up on me now, Zayne? Come on. I just wanted to come see you today."

"Well, I never asked for your company in the first place".

And that was what set off the already-ticking bomb of self-destruction in your heart. "Okay, it's fine I understand. I didn't think being here would bring so much imbalance to your perfect schedule".

Not bothering to pick-up your meal, you quickly grabbed your bag and coat and walked towards the door, already reaching out and grabbing the knob to twist it open. You felt Zayne's presence from behind you and whipped your entire body towards his direction. "Happy first and last Zayne. I hope you find what you need with your work. Good night". Then bang, the door was closed shut, leaving Zayne at a loss for words. He fucked up and he knew that, but why couldn't he move and run out to chase you?

It didn't matter anymore what he chose to do. Your heart was breaking into tiny pieces and your vision, growing even more blurry by the passing second as you picked up your pace, walking further and further away from his office, from him.

Part 2 | Coming soon . . .

[dpspcehntr]

Inspiration: Zayne

Xavier || Rafayel || Sylus

Zayne x Reader

A slow exploratory night with Zayne.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: fingering, oral (f receiving), P in V, temperature play (if you squint)

A/N: Hello all! Welcome to part one of this series! I was going through my drafts and I found an old idea I never actually did anything with and so I expanded it! I'm often listening to music when I write so this was honestly inevitable. This was such an easy pick for Zayne, this song honestly picked its self for him. I recommend listening to the song as you read if possible. This is set very early in their relationship. If you squint you could say this is one of their first times together but it doesn’t have to be. I hope you all enjoy and reblogs are always appreciated!

Zayne places a hand on your thigh as you turn to look at him. His eyes sparkle with a desire you’ve never seen before. His skin is icy to the touch as his fingers linger on your heated skin. He’s discussing something about his job that you definitely should be paying attention to but the desire to get closer overwhelms your senses. His hand has risen higher on your thigh absentmindedly as he continues on. Usually he isn’t very chatty but tonight he seems to be avoiding something. He gives you another once over and he stumbles on his words. So it’s you he’s avoiding, is he avoiding how much he desires you? You scoot closer to him and settle in close. You want nothing more than to climb in his lap and let him ravish you but you hold back. His hand on your thigh only gets colder as you watch him get more and more flustered. You place your hand over his and gingerly move it just a bit closer to your inner thigh while giving him your full attention. A blush creeps onto his cheeks and he clears his throat.

“You don’t have to be afraid of your desire for me.”

The words leave your lips before you can think. He blushes a deeper pink before turning his head away from you. It hadn’t been that long since you reconnected and discovered a spark between you both.

“I’ll have you know it is not fear. I just didn’t account for how intense the feeling would be. I won’t lie it is overwhelming but I’m an adult and I have self control.”

He tries to move his hand from your thigh but you grip his wrist. You place his hand on your hip and hold it there while you climb in his lap. You lean into him, your lips inches away from his skin.

“Don’t I get a say in how this goes? If I may be blunt, I want you. Right here and right now.”

His grip on your hip tightens as you let go of his wrist and drape your arms over his shoulders. You run a finger along the back of his neck as you watch his composure continues to falter.

“May I?”

You whisper along his neck before he gives you a nod. You plant your lips on his pulse point and trail up to his jaw. He hisses under your touch as you continue up to his lips. You hesitate for a moment before he closes the gap between you both. The kiss is electric, leaving you breathless and desperate. You slide your fingers in his hair pushing him deeper into you. All restrain leaves you as you moan into the kiss. The taste of him was addictive as you deepened the kiss, begging to mold further into him. He begrudgingly breaks the kiss for air and looks at you. This time you felt he was finally seeing you in your entirety, giving himself over to his more base desires. His eyes linger on your lips, chest, thighs and finally your eyes. Being seen so wholly was exhilarating. You felt drunk on his attention, landing once again on your lips. He pulls you in for another kiss while laying you down on the couch. He slot comfortably between your legs as he kisses down your neck. One hand is planted on your hip as the other holds him up.

“Touch me, please. Zayne touch me.”

He pauses for a moment before sliding his hand from your hip underneath your skirt.

“Here?”

He whispers on your lips as he lightly presses into you. You arch into his touch crying out underneath him. He presses his fingers deeper into your clothed core. He captures your lips in his once more before sliding a finger underneath your underwear. He moans into your mouth at the feeling of your wetness, suddenly overcome with his own desire. Two fingers enter you with ease. He presses into your sweet spot and curls his fingers. His name spills out your lips as he thrusts his digits in and out of you. Each movement of his fingers leaves you begging and writhing underneath him.

“You’re so warm.”

He whispers on your lips before pulling his fingers out of you. You whine in protest as he shifts himself above you. He leans down in between your legs, lips inches away from where you need him. You look down at him, his pupils are blown wide as he watches you, waiting for the go ahead. You squeeze out a yes before throwing your head back on the arm rest. He hooks his fingers underneath the band of your underwear and carefully pulls them down. You bite back a moan as he hums approvingly at the sight of you. Here on display for him, it was better than anything he could’ve imagined. He presses his lips to the throbbing nub and takes it into a delicate kiss. Tears well up in the corner of your eyes, your lust for him only growing more and more overwhelming as he explore you. He takes a tentative lick inside you. Your hands slink into his hair to hold him there. His tongue so delicious on your aching core. He takes his time, savoring the taste on you on his tongue. You can’t wait any longer, you need to feel him inside of you right at this moment. You grip him by the hair and lift him away from you.

“I need you. I need you right now.”

He sits back up before leaning over you once again. You reach for the belt on his pants but he swats your hands away. He pulls you into another searing kiss while he situates himself out of his pants. There’s no time to undress, you’re both much too caught up in the moment for that. You hike up your skirt pass your hips and wait for him.

“Let me know if you need me to stop.”

He takes himself in his hand and lines himself up with you and thrusts inside. His other holds your hip to keep you still. He lets out a loud groan as he bottoms out, his eyes screwed shut in concentration. Even after all this he still was holding back. You were much too gone in the feeling of him to give it much thought. Being this close to him was enough. He pulls out completely and looks down at you again, though he looks composed you see the desperation in his eyes. He needs this release just as much as you do. He thrusts back into you staying there for a moment before setting a slow pace. You reach out to him and bring his lips to yours as he increases his pace. You whisper praises onto his lips as your high quickly approaches. He pulls away from your lips to settle his head in your shoulder. His thrusts became more erratic as his release draws closer.

“Where do you want it?”

He groans in your ear, teetering on the edge he wasn’t toning to last much longer.

“Inside me, please.”

You press more of yourself onto him as the tension in your body snaps as you wail out. Your release spreads through your body, making you shake and cling onto him with what strength you have left. His release is buried deep inside you as his hips stutter to a stop. He lets out another groan as you clench down on him, milking his release. You stay like this for a moment, letting you both come back down from this moment. He pulls out of you slowly and looks over you. He pulls you back in for another kiss before getting up to clean you both up.

[bobbedazzled]

MY STUDY GUIDE

pairing: zayne x reader word count: 2.3k content: college au, established friendship, fingering, nipple play, condom usage, hookup w/ mutual feelings,   a/n: AAAAA HHHIIIIII—two out of five! this took way longer than expected omg, trying my best to be more detailed in my work. this is linked to another post, click here for the original 

Past ten, and the dorm halls are anything but quiet as you brush your teeth. Laughter bounces off the thin walls, footsteps thump like heartbeats overhead, and someone is gagging loudly down the corridor. You’re too exhausted to care, too numb from half-processed lectures to even muster annoyance.

You shuffle back toward your room, the chaos fading behind you.

Your phone chimes. A message from Zayne.

❛❛ Help me study. ❜❜

You blink at the screen in disbelief. Since when does Zayne ask for help? And from you? Especially during exam week. Maybe your persistent interruptions have finally coaxed him out of his hermit shell.

❛❛ What subject? ❜❜

❛❛ Come downstairs. ❜❜

Okay. a little more blunt than usual, but the fatigue is to blame for his curt responses. You toss your toothbrush, slip into something comfortable, and shuffle through the crowded halls. Drunk neighbors part for you like you’re some kind of dorm royalty, slurring cheerful greetings as if you're a beloved cousin back for a visit. You politely nod and smile at all the familiar faces that are so happy to see you, and duck into the elevator before someone tries to hand you a drink. 

Zayne lives in the dorm across from you, which, funnily enough, houses a flock of pre-med students. You’re the last person he’d have to choose from, but nonetheless. “Maybe he just missed me,” you mutter with a smirk, stepping out into the crisp night.

The lobby of his building is quiet. Cold air kisses your skin, and the absence of bass-blasted walls feels like a small miracle.

“I have a guest,” Zayne announces as you walk in, his voice slicing clean through the silence.

The overnight guard doesn’t even look up, eyes glued to whatever drama is playing on his phone. He just waves you in. Zayne strides ahead toward the elevator; you follow, still shaking off the noise of your building.

“Wow, no sign in?” You whispered.

“I’m sure he remembers you,” Zayne replies without looking back. “You’re one of the only people who ever comes here.”

“Yeah, because everyone else is packed into my building.” You sigh, dramatically dragging your voice.

“I noticed. I thought you’d appreciate the quiet more than I do.”

“Oh? A sleepover?”

The elevator dings open, and you trail him down the hall. His dorm, luckily, is a double he doesn’t have to share. his last roommate cracked under pressure and left after finals. The space is sparse but tidy. No decorations besides what you’ve stuck onto the wall to mark your presence. He liked to forget you existed when school got serious, so you littered the room with reminders.

“So what am I helping you with.”

He sits at his desk, looking at his desktop before back to his textbook. “Anatomy, I don’t have a proper model so I need you.”

You raise a brow. “You called me over to just stand here and look pretty?”

“Sure.” He almost smiles as he says it.

You roll your eyes but comply, lifting your arms to mimic the textbook’s posed figure. Zayne stands, steps in close, and begins tracing along your torso, fingers cool and methodical. Latin spills from his lips in quiet mutters, and as the silence deepens around you, broken only by his breath and the occasional flip of a page you begin to wonder: What the hell am I doing here in the middle of the night?

“This feels like an excuse to touch me.” You murmur. His hands are cold as they press into your side, stroking and kneading the muscles underneath.

“It is,” he replies, blunt and unbothered. “But I do appreciate the visual aid.”

You scoff, half-laughing. “Being a tease tonight?”

His fingers hesitate, slowly lifting, hovering from where they dented the skin. “Does it come off that way?”

He slides a hand down your back, fingertips brushing your skin as they slip under the hem of your shirt. The sudden shift in the atmosphere makes your pulse quicken.

“That tickles.” You grab his wrists, pushing him back gently. “It’s only fun when I’m the one messing with you.”

He hums, a smile tugging at his lips. “That doesn’t seem fair.” He glances at his textbook before reaching over, placing careful hands on your nape. His fingers press and glide up your neck as he mumbles to himself.

“What’re you studying again?”

“The muscle system, I have to map it out for class Monday.” He glances at you, noting your skeptical expression.

“I also haven’t run into you in a while.” He clears his throat as he leaned in. The words come out in a rush, like they surprised him too. “This is more of an excuse to see you. I needed a break from slideshows.”

He’s close, and so bad at lying. You don’t doubt that he was using you as a guide at first, but he’s been pressing in the same places for some time now. How much of an aid could you possibly be?

“You could’ve come see me anytime, I don’t like studying alone either.” You relax your arms, hands slide up to his forearms, resting there as the room seems to shrink around you. “So you invite me over later late at night to poke and say you miss me. Anything else before I leave?”

He holds you for a moment, palms resting on your sides. “I thought you were sleeping over?”

“Being cheeky?” You tease.

“Hmm?” Your lips curl slightly, “Feeling cheeky?”

“You’re rubbing off on me.”

His gaze flickers down to your lips, then up again. The air between you, something familiar and safe, now tinged with something dangerous and thick.

“Am I the only one you’re like this with?” he asks, voice low, almost afraid of the answer.

His palms drift, sitting flat against your lower back, grounding you. His thumbs trace slow circles into your skin, and for a second, neither of you speaks. Just standing in the tension, in the weight of what's finally finding shape.

Then, as if pulled in by something invisible, his forehead leans into yours. His voice, low and unsteady, brushes against your lips.

“I think about you more than I should.”

Your fingers clench the fabric of his sleeves. You can’t look away from him. Not now, not with his breath mingling with yours.

“Zayne?”

He leans in.

The kiss is tentative at first, testing. But when your lips part beneath his, when your hands slide up to cup his jaw, it deepens. Grows. He presses in like he’s starved, like he's been holding this in for months, maybe longer.

And you kiss him back like you've been waiting.

Because you have.

He groans softly, his grip tightening as if to pull you closer still, before something shifts. You’re breathless now, hands restless. This was just supposed to be a study break.

You break the kiss, sharp and sudden. His name falls from your lips again, but this time with a different kind of weight.

“Zayne, wait.”

He freezes, his hands loosening. His eyes search yours, dazed and a little afraid.

“Was that too much?”

“No,” You step back, heart pounding. “just… what is this?”

He swallows hard, blinking like he’s trying to focus. “I don’t know,” he admits, stepping forward. “It could be anything.” His hands slip further beneath your shirt, slow and searching. “What do you want this to be?”

 “I don’t know.”

“Should I stop?” His voice is rough, nose nuzzling against yours. Flustered, your grip on his arms tighten. 

“No…”

He pins you into his chest. Your breath catches, but you don’t pull away. His touch is no longer careful, deliberate; sending sparks down your body. His lips ghost over yours before he hesitates. “May I?”

 “Please,”

You wrap your arms around his neck before your lips collide once more. Eager hands move from face to waist, desperately pulling your bodies together. Breathing heavily as lips pressed together, his tongue pressed between parted lips, swirling and tasting your own. You stumble once he backs you to the edge of his bed. Holding a fist full of his shirt, he’s forced to follow.

Your lips never part far from each other, shared breaths became intoxicating. You wanted more and he was eager to give it to you 

“Don’t worry about me.” He follows your hold on his shirt. “Just lie there and be pretty.” 

Exchanging smiles, you reel him in until he towers over you. With his collar still in your grasp, you lift your arm up to encourage him to take off what’s no longer needed. He smiles, using you as an aid to slip him out of his clothes. Your hand wanders near his drawstring before he swats your wrist. 

“And what about you?”

You blush, shedding your shirt as he places kisses along the uncovered surface. Chapped lips drag across your chest, “Are you sensitive here?” He asks, the warmth of his breath prickling the skin. Your nipple hardens against his lips. His heavy gaze flick up to you, voice quieter than before. “Is that a yes?”

An idle hand tugs at your waistband. “Take this off first.” 

You follow, lifting your hips to allow him access. Your chest is pounding now, and it’s not hard for him to hear with how close he is. His laugh is soft, breathy. “Are you nervous now? Do you want the light off?”

You nod. Your face is burning as he rises from the bed , the air conditioning nipping at your skin . Lying completely naked in your best friend’s dorm, and he seems so calm about it. It almost feels like you slipped into a trap with how well he’s taking everything in.

A lamp casts a dim hue once upon the lights click off. He walks back, retrieving a square wrapper from his desk drawer. He eases into bed, dark eyes marveling at your exposed body.

“I’ll leave the lamp on.” He murmurs, pulling you down by the waist, hooking your leg around him as he slots himself inbetween.

Lips brushing against your ear, his teeth graze the edges as the intrusion of his callus fingertips send sparks skipping up your figure. He teases and probes your wetness, rimming the entrance before barely dipping and retreating into you. You groan and roll your hips into his hand, desperate for a rhythm. 

“Hmm? Theyre too slender, aren’t they?”

You gasp as he slips another digit in, unable to answer. He slips down to your chest. You nipple sits between his lips as his fingers pump into you, stroking the surrounding muscles like you’re still helping him study. His tongue embraces the bud, dragging and circling his tongue against it as your breath quickens. Your vision swirls as your brain fogs, a weight in your lower belly begins to throb.

“Nonono—” you plea.

“No?” He pauses, watching you sigh as you retrieve his fingers. You pull him closer, hands clawing up his lower back. “I want it here.” Your hips brush against him as you beg. He slips his hand under your arch, your warmth kisses the lump pulsing in his sweats.

Breathes exchange against your lips. “There?” His hands are rough. Your slick is smeared into your skin as he drags you closer. “You need me here, baby?”

The kiss is sloppy, mouths fumbling together as you claw at his waistband. Impatient hands run from his back up to his shoulders, the crackling of plastic tickling your ears.

Moans mingle between your lips as he disappears inside you. The silicon is soft but god, how you crave his skin. You want to feel him lose himself against you. The warmth is enough however. Shallow breaths as he begins to work into you, setting a pace as he splits you farther than his fingers ever could. Your name is a soft chant that falls from his lips, words slurred with swears once he finds a rhythm you respond to. 

The dull ache of his cock melts into your velvet. Every thrust, every caress, every kiss—are you delusional or is this more than a hookup? He’s too deliberate. Too attentive. He feels too good.

His mouth hangs open, breath hot against your ear as he sings his praise. Moments where he’s choking back words, one slip away from a verbal confession. You lie there waiting, enduring; a part of you wants to say it too.

── ࿐ ࿔

You wake to soft light filtering in through the slats of his blinds. The bass and chaos of your dorm feel a world away. You stir in the sheets, searching for something missing. The other half of the bed is cold, empty. 

You blink up at the ceiling, the silence around you too loud, and drag a hand through your hair as last night comes rushing back. His voice, low and teasing. The way his fingertips mapped your shape, traced every curve. His poor excuses. “ study help,” as if he wasn’t aching to be close.

You groan against the pillow and pound a fist into the mattress, heart racing with embarrassment and tinge of shame. It was supposed to be simple. Safe. But you let yourself get swept into the moment, and god, what a moment it was.

The air feels colder without him. Goosebumps trail across your skin just as another memory surfaces. Hazy and half-awake, his lips brush your temple. His voice, gentle, 

“Stay here. I’ll be back after class.”

You feel your face flush as warmth blooms in your chest. The memory wraps around you like a second blanket, his words still echoing in your ears; not just sweet, but full of something genuine. You curl deeper into the covers, letting the scent of him settle over you. It’s ridiculous how comforting it is, how much you already miss him.

Your eyes start to close again, lulled by leftover heat and the echo of his presence.

Then—buzz. Your phone rattles on the nightstand.

You squint at the screen, thumb dragging across the glass.

❛❛ I passed. I’ll bring breakfast. ❜❜ …

A smile tugs at your lips before you can stop it. So much for pretending this didn’t mean something.