#Zayne Li

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LaDS Divs & Icons Dump...

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[buckiverse]

Lessons

☆--- paring: zayne x reader

☆--- summary: Your childhood best friend, Zayne, had always been there for you, loyal, supportive, and understanding. So, when you realized you had a crush on Caleb, you turned to him for help. Taking it upon himself to be your guide, Zayne offered to teach you a few lessons in love. But as the lessons progress, you start to wonder... was Caleb really the one you wanted all along?

☆--- word count: 9.9k

☆--- warnings: mdni, oral sex, fingering, missionary, zayne is literally so jealous, caleb is kinda the boy best friend you tell your boyfriend not to worry about ngl, reader is inexperienced, soft!dom zayne, size kink if you squint, zayne knows you so fucking well it's sickening (he's just so sweet), no protection is used (wrap it before you tap it)

☆--- a/n: loosely based on nightly rendezvous (yes im doing a childhood best friend au for everyone... i fear im obsessed)

↳ xavier | sylus | caleb | rafayel

Some part of you felt like it was a bad idea—you knew better. Even after all these years, it felt surreal that Caleb was one of your closest friends. In your small town, there weren’t many people to bond with. The tight-knit community had shrunk over time, and most people you knew were just memories now. But you’d never forget the two boys who lived next door. One was more charming, the other more reserved, but both were just as kind and reliable.

Years later, that sense of community felt like a distant dream. It was why you jumped at the chance to move closer to Caleb and Zayne after they relocated to the city. The passing of your grandmother had made staying in the countryside unbearable. But as you stood ankle-deep in snow, staring at the truck piled high with your belongings, you wondered if you were in over your head.

The cold wind bit through your gloves as you trudged inside the apartment building. Your eyes darted nervously to the heavy furniture that needed to be moved. You shifted your weight, glancing at the door every few seconds. If any of the boys decided not to show up, you would be screwed. 

“Y/N!” Caleb’s voice rang out, and your head snapped up. Relief surged through you as you saw him approaching. Without thinking, you rushed into his arms, your cheeks burning as his warm embrace enveloped you.

“It’s good to see you too,” he teased, his playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. His hands rested lightly on your back as he pulled away, studying your face. “How long were you standing out there?”

“Not long,” you lied with an awkward laugh. “I just—got lost in thought.”

How he looked at you made it hard to breathe, as if he still saw the same girl from all those years ago. The creak of the lobby door saved you from spiraling further. 

Zayne strode in, his dark coat dusted with snowflakes. His sharp gaze flicked from you to Caleb’s hands, still resting on your waist. For a moment, his jaw tightened, but he quickly smoothed his expression.

“You’re late,” Caleb called out, smirking.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Zayne replied, his tone dry as his eyes settled on you. “I almost thought you forgot about me.”

“Never,” you said with a grin, stepping forward to hug him. His arms wrapped around you briefly, his touch warm but hesitant. You smiled before turning and walking over to the elevator. You missed your family, and now it felt a little closer to being pieced back together. 

You gave a debrief of the plan for the day, as there was plenty you could do on your own later. Though you were grateful to Xavier for helping you get a place, it needed…tlc. The boys agreed to help you move bulky items and clean up the remnants of a bug treatment. 

The boys retreated to the lobby—they had to move a couch and some other, far too heavy things. The three of you had been friends for years, bickering and fighting like siblings, but never with ill intent. Though Caleb and Zayne constantly teased each other more recently than anything, you weren’t sure what was a joke anymore. 

Your body jolted. A sound of a shout came from the hallway, distracting you from sweeping. 

“Damn—Zayne, pull up the couch—” Caleb strained and bit out. 

“You’re the one who’s not paying attention,” Zayne shot back calmly. 

You walked up to the unfolding scene, your hands resting on your hips when you approached them. The couch was now on the tile of the apartment hallway. You were glad they didn’t break your stuff while they messed around.

“And… Why is my couch on the ground?” you asked, your gaze shooting between them. 

“It seems Caleb’s grip slipped,” Zayne quipped. You could feel the air quotes around the last portion of his statement. His hands were resting on his hips as his breathing slowed and evened out.

“I just need a second—I’m sweating over here,” Caleb said, a deep breath coming from his lips. 

You watched as he lifted his shirt. His jeans rested low on his hips as he lifted the fabric, you could see faint trails of hair leading down his abdomen. He had a vein running above his hip to below his pants. 

Your eyes betrayed you as you shamelessly traced his body. Fuck, he looked good.

Zayne watched you in silence, observing, watching the surprise on your face when Caleb lifted his shirt. And he did not like it. First, why did Caleb always do shit like that, but besides, why did you seem to like it so much.

The three of you worked together to tackle the chaos of the moving day. With the bulky items moved, Caleb helped you clean the kitchen while Zayne focused on the living room. You stood on your tippy toes, wiping the cabinet the best you could, stretching to reach the top shelf. Caleb moved in behind you, his body brushing against yours. 

“Let me get that,” he said, his voice soft as he grabbed the cloth from your hand.

Your breath hitched as his warmth seeped through your back. His fingers brushed yours briefly, sending a jolt through you. You moved aside, trying to compose yourself. He stepped to the side after finishing, leaning onto the counter, “Why don’t I take over this part, since you’re so small?” a playful grin played on his lips, as he winked at you. 

“Always picking on my size,” you joked, your voice shaky. “Maybe you’re just too tall.”

His grin widened, but something in his gaze lingered a moment too long. “...Maybe,” he murmured, his voice low.

From the corner of the room, Zayne’s gaze flicked toward the kitchen. His hand paused mid-swipe on the wall, his eyes narrowing at seeing Caleb leaning close to you. His grip on the rag tightened, but he quickly looked away. This wasn’t the time.

You noticed all his progress when you made your way to Zayne. He almost successfully cleared the living room. “Can I help?” you said, approaching his side. 

Zayne’s lips quirked into a slight smirk. “I figured you’d be too busy with Caleb to remember me.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” you shot back, an uncomfortable laugh leaving your lips.

He attached the extended handle before handing you the mop, his fingers brushing yours slightly. “Guess I’ll have to remind you why I’m the favorite,” he said, his tone light but his eyes serious. 

☆

You fell into a routine in the following weeks, trying to adjust to your new life. Weekly meetups with Caleb became a ritual, and today, you waited for him at a quaint coffee shop Zayne had introduced you to. The warm smell of coffee and pastries filled the air as you spotted Caleb walking in, his black coat framing his tall figure.

“Y/N!” he called out, his smile lighting up. He hugged you tightly, lifting you off the ground for a moment.

When he set you down, his eyes held yours for a beat too long. Your stomach flipped as you sat across from him, trying to steady your thoughts.

You began your catch-up over a coffee and some food. Your discussion filled the silence, and you shared a laugh while discussing the latest work drama. You clued Caleb into the details about your coworker, and how the Hunter’s Association locked his file.

It was pretty peculiar in your field; most hunters had a public record, released by the organization they resided under, but in his case, it wasn’t as easily accessible, making him a high-profile individual. Which just made you curious. As talented as you were you couldn’t help but notice the difference in skills between the two of you. It was so obvious he’d been at this longer than you. 

Caleb listened intently as you shared the latest work news, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup.

“And what are you going to do about it?” he asked, his voice teasing. “Detective work?”

You shook your head, biting your lip. “I don’t know. It feels like I’d be invading his privacy. I guess—I’ll wait for him to tell me when he’s ready.”

Caleb’s gaze softened. “That’s just like you,” he said quietly, his purple eyes glinting in the light.

Before you could process his words, your watch buzzed with an alarm. “I gotta get back to work,” you said, grabbing your things in a rush.

“I’ll take care of this,” he said, gesturing to the table. “See you later.”

It was a lighter cold today, and no heavy snow blocked your path. As you walked back to work, you were honestly heavy in thought. You couldn’t stop thinking about Caleb. His smiles and touches felt deliberate, and you had no idea how to handle it. Dating had always been a mystery to you, and your nerves weren’t helping.  

This wasn’t the first time these nerves graced your presence. When you were much younger, you recall the party, the smell of alcohol, the loud music, and unfamiliar faces. You knew Zayne and Caleb of course, but them being a bit older than you made this crowd—one you hadn’t been exposed to before.

Making your way through the door was the worst. Caleb knew everyone, saying “hellos,” “hi’s,” and “what’s up, dude,” as he led the way. Making your way through the moving bodies was a challenge. You were thankful for Zayne’s hand holding onto yours as you made the way. You scanned the crowd, and everyone was dancing. The number of people grinding on others was mesmerizing, and you wanted in.

The music thudded through the walls, pounding against your ears. You remember making your way up the stairs, following closely behind Caleb, as Zayne sandwiched in behind you, finally letting go of your hand. Honestly, this didn’t seem like Zayne’s type of crowd, and he wasn’t the most outgoing. 

When you reached the room, it had fewer people than the rest of the house. You walked in, sitting on the couch while Zayne stood near the corner of the room. Some people sat in a circle with a bottle in the center, obviously playing a game. One of the girls asked if you and the boys wanted to join. 

You could feel the eyes of two important men in your life shift to you. Both were curious about your response. 

“...yeah.” 

Caleb also joined the game, sitting directly across from you. A girl with blonde hair spun the bottle, and before you knew it, it was your turn. 

Placing your hand on the bottleneck, you spun the bottle, watching its turning motion with curiosity. When it stopped on Caleb, the purple of his eyes glinted as he looked between you and the bottle. 

You could hear the circle of people urging you both on. It was just a kiss. You could do this. He’s your friend. You sat up on your heels, your hands burning as they rested on your knees. 

He got close to you and whispered, “Ready?” only for your ears to hear, and he kissed you, his lips connecting with yours softly, sweetly. Some people teased him for the gentleness at which his lips touched yours, but something shot through you when his lips touched yours. He softly bit your bottom lip before he pulled back from you. 

He kissed you. Zayne saw, everyone saw, and you liked it. 

You needed advice—something solid to guide your next move. You’d already admitted to yourself that you liked him, but how were you supposed to approach this? What did you even say? Zayne helped you through that kiss, reminding you it was just a game. But all these years later, you wanted to be more than a game to Caleb. Even in your shared youth, he had good advice for you, so why wouldn’t you trust him?

When you arrived at the office, your mind was still a tangled mess, buzzing with uncertainty. You decided it was no use overthinking it; it was better to rip the bandaid off.

You pulled out your phone, hesitating for a moment before texting Zayne:

You:

“Can I call you? I need some advice.”

When his reply came moments later—“I have a patient right now. I’ll call you after.”—you let out a relieved sigh. You trusted him, and you needed his help.

Relief washed over you as you read his reply, your heartbeat finally slowing to a steady rhythm. You let out a soft sigh, tucking your phone away. All you had to do now was organize your thoughts.

While you waited, you turned to your caseload, focusing on the profile you’d been compiling for a new wanderer-type you’d encountered during a hunt weeks earlier. Using old files as templates, you typed furiously, the steady rhythm of the keyboard pulling you into the zone. Minutes turned to hours as you worked, the world fading into the background.

The buzzing of your phone jolted you back to reality. You glanced at the screen and barely caught the call before it went to voicemail.

“You want me to teach you how to date?” Zayne’s voice drawled through the line, laced with amusement.

Heat rushed to your face as you groaned audibly. “That’s not—it’s not like that!” you blurted, but Zayne only chuckled softly.

You spent the next ten minutes stumbling through your explanation, your words tangling as you tried to paint a coherent picture of your situation. When you finally stopped, waiting anxiously for his response, all he said was:

“Okay.”

That one word was enough to knock the wind out of you. “Okay?” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Okay,” he confirmed calmly.

Your heart soared. “Okay, then,” you echoed quickly, trying to mask your nervous excitement. You rushed to thank Zayne before ending the call, clutching the phone to your chest. Relief and joy bubbled inside you. You knew Zayne would come through for you. You trusted him completely.

On the other end of the call, Zayne set his phone on his desk, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. He began packing up for the day, shaking his head in amusement. The idea of you coming to him for dating advice was equal parts endearing and intriguing.

Of course, he would help you. That much was never in question. But who had caught your interest so suddenly? The thought gnawed at him, tempting him to ask outright, but he resisted. He’d figure it out eventually.

As he picked up his phone to draft a response, a quiet laugh escaped him. “Lessons,” he murmured, the word rolling off his tongue with amusement. He couldn’t help but smirk as he began typing out a plan. Lessons in dating and seduction? If anyone was going to help you succeed, it was him.

☆

Your phone buzzed with details for your first lesson. You had to admit you were quite excited. When you open the message, you read simple instructions:

Zayne:

“I’ll pick you up at 7 pm. Wear something nice, but comfortable.” 

A quiet scoff escaped your lips as you gripped your phone, its cool metal grounding you—way to give me nothing, Zayne. Still, you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips as you typed back.

You:

“Got it.” 

With a rare day off, you had more than enough time to overthink this date—or, well, lesson. You'd been on dates before, but this felt different—important. You wanted to impress Caleb later, but you also wanted to enjoy this with Zayne and learn from him.

Determined, you took your time getting ready—a long bath, smooth and refreshed skin, natural hairstyle, skipping the heat of flat irons. Your makeup was subtle, accentuating your best features—your eyes and lips. The outfit? Simple, with an effortless elegance: a black skirt, a beige sweater, and knee-high black boots. Something nice but comfortable, you echoed mockingly in your head.

The doorbell rang. Your pulse quickened. Taking a deep breath, you cracked the door open.

“I’m grabbing my bag—give me a sec,” you said quickly before shutting it again.

Zayne chuckled softly on the other side. You looked nervous, and he thought it was cute.

When you finally stepped out, his eyes swept over you, approval flashing in his gaze. “Ready?” His voice was warm, familiar.

You swallowed, heat rushing to your cheeks. “Yeah.”

Locking up, you stepped beside him, weaving through the apartment halls. The elevator was packed when it arrived, leaving just enough room for the two of you to squeeze in. When the doors slid shut, the crowd's pressure pushed you toward the back corner of the elevator.

Zayne stepped in after you, his body instinctively blocking the others from pressing too close. His warmth enveloped you, a wall of quiet protection. When his chest brushed against yours, your head shot up, startled by the contact—only to knock it against the cold metal wall behind you.

A low groan slipped from your lips, and Zayne chuckled. “Careful.” His hand came up, cupping the back of your head gently.

You stilled. Zayne’s touch was light but steady, fingers warm against your scalp. You let yourself settle into it for just a second, your cheeks heating.

Then, with a soft ding, the doors slid open. The moment was gone.

You followed him out quickly, slipping into his car. The silence was thick but not uncomfortable. Still, you were the first to break it.

“So… where are we going?” you asked, anticipation bubbling beneath your skin.

Zayne’s grip tightened subtly around the gear shift, veins visible against his skin. His lips curled into a faint smile. “You’ll see.”

—

You hadn’t expected this.

The setup was breathtaking—candles flickering softly, a picnic blanket spread on the grass by a lake, and wildflowers scattered around like nature’s own confetti. The crisp spring air carried the scent of earth and blooming petals, a reminder that winter’s grasp was finally loosening. The sun had just begun its descent, casting everything in golden light.

Zayne stood behind you, watching. He caught how your breath hitched and how awe softened your features. The faint flush that always seemed to bloom when he was near. He reveled in it.

“Lesson one,” he murmured. “A date.”

You turned to him, eyes wide. “Zayne, this is…” Your voice wavered with something close to wonder. “This is perfect.”

A small, knowing smile touched his lips.

You hesitated. “I’ve never really—” You exhaled. “So… what do we do now?”

He motioned for you to sit. “First? We eat.”

You obeyed, watching as he unpacked the meal. Your gaze flickered over the assortment of sweets tucked beside the entrees, and you bit your lip. He remembered your sweet tooth.

Your heart squeezed.

He handed you a sandwich—one of your childhood favorites. You took a bite, savoring the familiar flavors and the quiet thoughtfulness behind it.

The evening unfolded like something out of a dream. The conversation was easy and flowing, as it always was between you two. You talked about everything and nothing, letting the city fade away, and the wine in your glass disappeared far too quickly.

At some point, you made the mistake of looking at him.

The sunset bathed him in amber light, the gentle hues accentuating the sharp cut of his jaw and the faint green specks in his eyes. He looked beautiful—effortlessly so. The sleeves of his powder blue dress shirt rolled up, revealing strong forearms, veins pronounced as his fingers idly toyed with the rim of his glass.

His gaze lifted, catching yours.

You panicked. Tipped your head back, draining the last of your wine, pretending to admire the sky.

And so the night went on.

Laughter. Warmth. The kind of company that made the world feel a little less lonely. It had been too long since you’d felt this way.

Maybe that was why—

—why you ended up tipsy.

The last thing you remembered clearly was Zayne’s hands on your waist, steadying you as you stumbled at your door. His voice, amused and gentle, coaxing you inside.

And then—

"You're drunk."

His voice was strained.

Your skin burned. “N ‘m not,” you murmured, reaching up, fingers clumsily ruffling his hair. “I w’nted to kiss you, Z-Zayne…”

His breath hitched.

You wobbled onto your tiptoes, pressing a sleepy, featherlight kiss to his cheek. “G’night, Zayne~”

Darkness.

And then—morning.

Your head throbbed. You groaned, pressing your palm to your forehead, and then—

The memory came rushing back.

Your stomach dropped.

Shit.

What did you do?

You kissed Zayne—just a kiss on the cheek, but no less a kiss. And you didn’t know how you felt about it. Maybe you liked it. And when you checked your phone, your heart skipped a beat. 

Zayne:

“Are you feeling better?”

It was a simple question, but your body felt warm, and a smile tugged at your lips as the cold metal burned your hand. 

You:

“Yes, I’m still a bit warm, but much better :)”

And from there the conversation flowed. 

Zayne: 

“So you’re ready for your next lesson?”

You:

“Duh.”

☆

This lesson was set up differently—as a more casual experience. Zayne held the door open, allowing you to enter as the scent of perfumes and faint traces of liquor—something you planned to avoid tonight—filled your senses.

Zayne trailed closely behind you, his eyes drawn to your fitted black dress. It hugged your curves just right, and while you were always beautiful, tonight, you looked divine. His gaze lingered, but he didn’t say a word, instead committing the image to memory.

You settled into the plush velvet seat, crossing your legs as you waited for him to join you. The slight pressure of the fabric against your skin and the low hum of jazz music set a tone of subtle sophistication.

“Lesson two,” he murmured as he sat beside you. “Body language.”

A sly smile crept onto your lips. This time, you were ready. Beyond your carefully chosen outfit, you had mentally prepared to hold your ground. Tonight, you would stay in control.

“So, what’s the plan today, Zayne?” you drawled, leaning forward as your fingers lightly brushed his bicep. You pretended it was a casual touch, but the way his muscles flexed beneath your fingertips sent a jolt through you.

Zayne tilted his head slightly, studying your face. A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes. “You’re already ahead, princess,” he whispered, his voice low. The words felt like a direct hit to your resolve.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, your lips parted as you scrambled to regain composure. “Head start?” you echoed, tilting your head and trying to sound nonchalant.

"I want to see what you've learned—think you can charm me?" he said simply.

The lounge was an upscale dream: dimly lit, lined with high-end paintings, and filled with the smooth rhythm of jazz. The swaying figures on the dance floor moved in tandem with the music, and for a moment, you let yourself get lost in the scene.

Leaning in closer to Zayne, you brushed your lips near his ear. “Should we dance?” you whispered, your hand steadying yourself on his knee.

The scent of his cologne—clean with a faint hint of jasmine—enveloped you. You felt his gaze sharpen, and when you pulled back slightly to meet his eyes, the faint green specks in them seemed to glow under the low light.

“Shall we?” he asked, his voice smooth, as he stood and offered you his hand.

On the dance floor, your movements flowed easily, the music guiding you. You pulled him closer, and your body pressed flush against his. His hands rested on your lower back, firm and grounding, while your fingers trailed up his chest. The hard muscle beneath your touch sent a thrill through you.

“You look so handsome tonight, Zayne,” you said softly, your lips curving into a small smile.

“Only tonight?” he teased, the corners of his mouth lifting.

Your finger traced lazy patterns on his chest. His heartbeat was steady initially, but you noticed the slight quickening as your touch lingered. You looked up at him, your gaze filled with something unspoken but deeply felt.

“You always do,” you whispered.

The air between you was charged, the tension pulling you closer. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, grounding you while simultaneously making you feel like you might float away.

When the tempo picked up, you spun away from him, creating a bit of distance as you swayed more freely. He matched your rhythm more stiffly than anything. You couldn’t help but smile—this was fun.

“You’re way too stiff,” you said, getting close to him. Watching him try to whine his hips to the upbeat tempo was amazing. A laugh left your lips as your hands gripped his hips. “Why are your feet so close together?!” you choked out. 

“I was never a dancer,” he said flatly, unamused by the tears in your eyes. 

“Move to the beat,” you said again, trying to show him the way, but he didn’t get it. If you asked him, he’d rather watch you move your body. You moved beautifully, rolling your hips with precision.

When the lounge prepared to close, your cheeks ached from grinning, and your legs were deliciously sore. You shivered slightly as you walked side by side through the chilly night air.

“You look cold,” Zayne said, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders before you could protest.

The warmth of the fabric—and his scent—wrapped around you. A soft, rich aroma of jasmine and something distinctly him made your heart flutter.

You nudged his arm, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “You know… I think this was the best night I’ve had in a long time.”

“I haven’t danced like that in forever.” you said.

“How could I forget?” he replied, his eyes briefly flicking to the stars above. “It’s your favorite thing.”

His fingers brushed against yours, tentative at first. You took the leap, intertwining your fingers with his. The warmth of his hand sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, and you caught the faint blush dusting his cheeks.

This man was everything.

☆

Later That Week

You had agreed to meet Caleb for a more eventful hangout—to meet downtown and do whatever caught your eye. 

You spotted him easily. His tall figure towered over most people. You walked up to him, and he hugged you tightly. The warmth of his body covered yours, but it didn’t raise your heartbeat. 

When he loosened his grip on you, his hands rested on your shoulders, “Long time no see, pipsqueak,” he said, his voice full of joy. 

Your cheeks felt tight from smiling—you were happy to see him, but not for the same reasons as before.

“I know, it’s been a few weeks,” you said, pulling back from him and looking into the purple of his eyes. “Let’s get back on schedule,” you breathed, a light smile plastered on your lips. 

Work had been busy, but the truth was that your lessons with Zayne had occupied your thoughts—and your time.

While you started your walk downtown, plenty of things caught your eye. The first thing you did was enter a record shop. The store was in the basement off of a side street. It was a little creepy, but it looked like an underground studio once you got inside. Records were all over the shop, on the wall, and in little baskets stacked in rows. 

He browsed next to you, shuffling through the records occasionally showing you one he thought you’d like or an album you’d enjoyed. And in spending this time with him, you realized that you enjoyed this. 

The simplicity between you, the light air, and the lack of expectations for anything more was all you needed. Caleb’s fingers softly brushed yours as he placed a vinyl behind the one you held up for him.

“Find anything good?” you asked, your feet planted evenly on the ground as you turned to face Caleb. 

His eyes bore into yours, something flickering over them before he answered you.

 “Nah—let's get some food,” he said quickly, his demeanor suddenly returning.

Exiting the store, you joined in step beside him, exploring the city's night scene. Your options were endless as you scanned the shops that lined the streets. You spotted a food truck and the smells coming from it were amazing. 

Altering Caleb, you both sat at the outdoor seating, waiting for your orders. The chill of the evening air seeped through your clothes, making you shiver slightly.

“Do you want my jacket?” Caleb asked, his tone playful. “You look like you’re freezing.”

“Only if you have an extra,” you said, bouncing your leg under the table to keep warm.

With a smirk, he reached into his bag and handed you a spare coat. “You’re my best friend, You know I always do.”

You slipped it on, grateful for the warmth but… that was it. There was no spark, no flutter of excitement. You tried to convince yourself otherwise, adjusting the collar and wrapping it tighter around yourself, but it felt like just a jacket.

In the quiet moment that followed, your mind drifted back to Zayne. His jacket had enveloped you in warmth and scent, and your heart raced when he was near. You glanced at Caleb, who was busy watching the street outside.

Nothing. That kiss was—just a kiss. Years ago, you wouldn’t have believed anyone. Not even Zayne could have convinced you it was a fleeting crush. But it really was. You felt proper chemistry, companionship, and care and wanted to keep experiencing that with Zayne.

The weight of your realization was crushing. All the time you spent—wasted on this man. You cared for him, you truly did. But, what about you? Why were you so pent-up and focused on this person you didn't even really like? Was it really him you missed? Or just how he filled your time and made you feel small—safe, even?

That's the point. You’re not small. You're a grown woman who can stand independently, make her own decisions, and provide her own entertainment. Relief washed over you in waves because what were you even doing? Holding onto a version of the past that no longer fits?

But right behind it, sadness crept in. Not for Caleb, but for the time lost—chasing something never meant to be yours. But you didn’t truly waste time if it led you here—to someone real. To Zayne.

You forced a smile, staring down at your lap, and tried to push away the sinking feeling in your chest. You used to admire Caleb. It should feel special, especially his attention and time, but—it doesn’t. 

Caleb was the person you had wanted—the reason for the lessons.

The contrast was stark, undeniable. And for the first time, you realized the answer had been clear.

☆

You had admitted to Zayne that you wanted a cozy evening. Work had drained you, but more than anything, your recent realization had knocked the wind out of you. It wasn’t just an idle thought—the truth that settled deep in your bones, undeniable yet terrifying.

You knew what you needed to say and do, but the effort of voicing it—of being honest with Zayne—made your nerves coil tight.

Your lessons have helped. You felt more confident, more self-assured. You understood what a date was supposed to be now, what it meant to be courted and wanted. But more than anything, you wanted something real.

With him.

So, he invited you over after work.

Zayne:

"How about I cook you dinner, and we watch a movie?"

You:

"How do you always know exactly what I need?"

…

Zayne:

"Make yourself at home. I just finished setting up."

When you arrived at his house, the living room instantly warmed you. The room glowed softly from the candles he had lined along the tables, their flickering light casting gentle shadows against the walls. The scent of something rich and savory drifted from the kitchen, mingling with the faint traces of his cologne.

But the sight of something familiar made your heart catch in your chest—small plushies, the ones you had won years ago, still resting on the couch.

He had kept them.

Your fingers grazed one absentmindedly as you took it all in, a lump forming in your throat.

You didn’t miss the sound of the shower running from the other room, and heat bloomed across your face. The thought of him stepping out—steam rising, droplets tracing the planes of his skin—sent your mind spiraling. He had just gotten off work, yet he still made time to set everything up for you.

As if on cue, the water stopped. A moment later, the door cracked open, and Zayne walked out, a towel slung low on his hips, another in his hands as he ruffled it through his damp black hair.

“Don’t be a stranger,” he said casually, his voice smooth. “Have a seat.”

Then, as if completely unaware of his effect on you, he strode into his bedroom and shut the door with a soft click.

You swallowed hard. That lasted less than a second, but it was enough.

His physique was unreal—his lean yet defined frame, the way his skin still glistened slightly, the tantalizing trail of hair disappearing beneath the towel… and God, you wanted to know where it led.

This was new. You had never felt this way before.

And he was making you crazy.

You forced yourself to move, settling onto the couch, trying to calm your racing heart as you waited for him. You distracted yourself with the snacks he had spread across the table, but your mind kept replaying that brief glimpse of him.

When he finally reappeared, dressed in a fitted shirt and sweatpants, looking effortlessly breathtaking, your breath caught in your throat.

Something about this moment—the candlelight, the scent of dinner lingering in the air, the sheer intimacy of being here with him—felt so real. So domestic. So much like something you wanted forever.

Zayne disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you in the glow of candlelight. A few moments later, he emerged with two plates in hand, setting them down on the dining table before motioning for you to sit.

“Did you make all of this?” you asked, raising a brow as you took in the spread before you.

“Of course,” he replied smoothly, settling across from you. “I figured you’d appreciate a home-cooked meal after the week you’ve had.”

Your heart ached at how thoughtful he was.

The meal was warm and comforting—just like him. You took a bite, letting the rich flavors settle on your tongue and savoring the moment. Zayne watched you carefully, his gaze flicking to your lips before he took a bite of his own food.

“This is really good,” you admitted, breaking the silence. “You’re full of surprises.”

He smirked slightly, tilting his head. “You act like you don’t already know I’m good with my hands.”

Your fork stalled mid-air. Heat crawled up your neck as your eyes snapped to his.

Zayne smirked slightly, taking another bite as if he hadn’t set your whole body on fire with that one sentence.

Your stomach twisted, and it had nothing to do with the food.

“I—” You cleared your throat, trying to regain composure. “I suppose I do.”

His gaze flickered with amusement before he leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming lightly against the wood. Something was intoxicating about the way he watched you. It was like he was reading every thought running through your head.

The tension built slowly, lingering between every glance, every soft smile exchanged over the rim of your glasses.

At some point, his foot brushed against yours beneath the table. It was barely a touch—so light it could’ve been an accident. But when you met his gaze, you knew it wasn’t.

Neither of you spoke on it. Neither of you moved away.

It was almost unbearable, the weight of the moment, the way the air grew heavier, tighter.

After dinner, you both moved to the couch. The flickering candlelight cast shadows across his sharp features, making him look even more devastatingly handsome than usual.

You curled next to him as he flipped through the streaming options before settling on something. Not that it really mattered—you could barely focus because of how close he was.

The movie played, but you weren’t watching.

You were too aware of Zayne’s presence, the warmth of his arm resting along the back of the couch, fingers occasionally brushing against your shoulder. Every tiny touch sent a current through you.

Then, in the middle of a scene, Zayne suddenly reached for the remote.

Click.

Ring…Ring…Ring…

Your phone started ringing, now of all times, and you dropped your gaze to the device at the same time as Zayne. 

Caleb calls all the time, but the timing of this was just—it couldn’t be a coincidence. And you weren’t sure if you should answer. 

“Don’t pick it up,” was all you heard, as you gripped the metal of your phone tighter. 

“Why,” you whispered, your voice small now. The confidence you had before flickered, unsteady—like a candle caught in the wind. You felt tender, exposed. Unsure if you had the strength to do what needed to be done.

“I know you wanted lessons, because of Caleb,” he started, his eyes meeting yours. The air felt cooler now, and goosebumps ran over your skin. 

"I can’t do this if you’re still holding onto him," he murmured, his voice steady—but stretched thin, like he was barely holding himself together.

“I can’t bear to see you with him—now that your presence has graced me, I see small pieces of you everywhere I go,” he admitted, his voice soft and tortured. 

Zayne exhaled through his nose,  running a hand through his dark hair before finally speaking.

“I don’t want you to want Caleb—I want you to want me” he breathed.

The screen froze mid-ring. A silence stretched between you—thick, suffocating. Heavy with everything left unsaid.

Your brows furrowed as you turned to him, only to find his gaze already on you—serious, searching.

Your breath hitched.

The weight of his words settled deep in your chest, heavy and unshakable.

You swallowed. Say it.

“I thought I wanted to be with another man, Zayne…” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. He tensed slightly, his jaw tightening, but you reached for his hand, your fingers brushing against his.

“But I don’t,” you continued softly, eyes searching his. “I want this. I want you.”

The words left you in a breath, raw and real.

Zayne didn’t move, didn’t speak right away. But you saw how his eyes darkened, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“Please, Zayne,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly as you leaned in.

Your breath stilled, heart hammering. He was too close—his scent, the warmth radiating from his skin, the slight tremor in his breath. And then… finally, you leaned in, and he met you halfway.

You pulled back slightly, your breaths intertwining in the room's dimness. Your eyes opened tentatively, and you saw Zayne staring at you, his chest heaving from the kiss you had just shared. 

“Again,” you murmured, a silent plea because now that you were here you couldn’t let this pass. And Zayne obeyed, kissing you again. You could feel him shifting your position. His hands found your back, and he briefly disconnected your lips to lay you on the couch. 

His knees straddled your hips, as he just watched you, “Beautiful,” he whispered before tasting your lips again, the weight of him on top of you was not only delicious but welcome. You gasped at the pressure, and he slipped his tongue in your mouth. A groan escaped your mouth when his tongue entered your lips. 

“Wait,” you said, your hands resting on Zayne’s chest as he lay on you. 

“I’ve never done this before,” you said, noticing the clench of his jaw, flushed face, and swollen lips. 

He waited for a beat, watching you silently, “I’ll take care of you, princess,” he exhaled.

“I don’t have much experience,” he admitted, his gaze shifting from yours.

Your eyes widened with shock at his admission. You had assumed he was experienced, and that was part of the reason you asked him for help. 

You took a breath, smiling at him. " Let's learn together,” you whispered in his ear before leaning your head back and resting it against the pillow. 

You pulled him flush against you, his weight pressing you into the couch. He began his thorough search kissing your temple, to the crux of your ear, “Another lesson, …hm?” he whispered. And that caused you to writhe beneath him—the sound of his voice in your ear, and the soft vibrato of his confirmation. 

He began his steady exploration with his lips and hands. Stroking up and down your body, though most of it covered, the cool of his hands made your skin get chills when he touched you. 

“Can I take this off?” he asked, gesturing to your t-shirt. 

“Yes,” you said too quickly, embarrassed by your eagerness. 

You adjusted your body, allowing him to pull the fabric over your head. You lay there sitting up on your forearms, just watching his explorative touch. His pointer finger traced the outline of your bra, hovering just above your skin. 

“You—” you started, biting the fat of your lip, “Zayne, I want you to take this off too.” 

And those emerald eyes watched you. In his head, he couldn’t believe you would be his—already prepared to memorize your every reaction. His hand trembled before steadying against your skin. The contact of his hand caused you to arch away from the couch. Click.

The bra fell forward as you shrugged it off your arms. Your whole body felt warm as you guided Zayne’s hands to hold your breasts. Your hands rested on his before you moved them back to the couch. His thumbs felt the hardening peaks beneath his hands, and he gave them a tentative flick, watching your face. You squirmed beneath him. 

Sensitive here. He made a mental note, before rubbing the hardened nub against his thumb at a steady pace. 

He moved his mouth to your other breast kissing it, before watching your face as his tongue made contact with it. Your hips jerked forward gently when he flicked it with his tongue. You bit your lip watching him play with your nipples. 

“Can—you touch me there?” you whimpered. His lips parted from your nipple. 

“Where?” he asked, and both of you just looked at each other. 

Before you took his hand and brought it between your legs. You held it there rubbing yourself on his hand through your pants, but you didn't miss the way Zayne trained his eyes on you. Watching each little reaction you had when he touched you. Even the lightest of touch made his lips part slightly even with the furious flush of his skin. 

His cock was straining in his pants, but he waited, wanting to learn you first.

He laid you down, your hands threading into his hair. Pulling him close to you he buried his face in your neck. The smell of jasmine filled your senses, as he groaned beneath you, breathing in your scent. You leaned back into the couch, shaken by the idea of him on top of you.

Your breasts pressed against his chest, the cool fabric causing a shiver to roll through you. He ran his face up and down your neck leaving a trail of light kisses. It was as if he was savoring you, imprinting your smell, your presence in his mind—as if you’d be done with him after this.

“You’re beautiful,” he groaned against your throat.

Zayne steadied himself on his hands on either side of your head, his gaze trailing over your body to where he would find himself next. His eyes stopped between your thighs, he watched intently as you squirmed beneath him, your body shifting under his gaze.

Your heartbeat felt loud in your ears, and the cold stillness of the air sent a shiver through you. His lips found your jaw, kissing a slow line tracing to your throat. Each touch of his lips sent heat between your legs, and you tilted your head to give him more access, a whimper escaping your lips. 

Zayne was just a friend, someone who supported and loved you but someone you felt you couldn’t have. Your change of heart made you act on a whim to take advantage of your time with him. You wanted him, and no one else could have him but you. He was a high you couldn't—didn't want to get rid of. 

You grasped the blankets on the couch, trying to ground yourself somehow, while he worked slow kisses down your chest with light scrapes of his teeth.

His hands ran down your sides, caressing your breasts to your hips, his thumbs brushing the naked skin beneath your sweatpants. It was a maddening sensation, and you only wanted him to keep going.

You could see his erection pressed firmly against his pants, and you felt tempted to reach forward, to touch it. To pull him closer firmly against you, to feel him where you needed him most. 

One of his hands left you cupping you over your pants. The pressure against your clit stole your breath. A quiet groan of approval left his lips, while you felt a pulse between your legs.

You ground your hips upwards into his hand. A breath left your lips as you moved your hips. 

“Touch me, Zayne,” you breathed, you felt like you were in a dream. 

He paused, his breath hitching at your words. His gaze darkened, the green of his eyes barely visible, as he searched your face. His jaw clenched, his voice dropping, rough with restraint. “Say that again.”

You observed him, grabbing the drawstrings of his pants. “Touch me Zayne, …Please” Your voice came out small, pleading. 

He exhaled slowly, his fingers twitching against your skin. He traced your pussy through your pants, his fingers burning through your pants—that you wished he’d taken off already. 

"You have no idea what you do to me," he murmured, his thumb brushing over you, his touch reverent, like he was memorizing you.

You had never been undressed like this. And you wanted it, you wanted to be touched by him, to feel him grabbing you.

He gripped the waistband of your pants, adjusting his position to push them down your thighs, dropping them to the floor. You sat there in only black underwear while he sat across from you, still in his t-shirt and sweats. 

His attention was all yours, and it was thrilling. 

Your hands still gripped the blanket beneath you. Your feet were tucked next to your bottom. 

“Let me see you.” His voice was low and deliberate. His fingertips grazed your knee before applying the faintest pressure. His eyes searched yours, waiting. “Spread your legs for me.”

You took in an unsteady breath, and you did it. 

His hands ran up your legs, his fingers pressing into your thighs, making your stomach tighten unexpectedly. The cool of his hands felt good against your soft skin. 

The cool air brushed against your panties making you aware of how wet your panties were. Zayne’s gaze met you there, shooting warmth through you.

Your breath hitched when his thumb pressed down on your clit through the fabric. His other hand was steady on your thigh, pressing your thighs open wider. The brush of his thumb up and down sparked a heat in your lower stomach.

You leaned your head back and started to rock under his touch. And then he kissed your nipple, sucking it into his mouth. He groaned, licking and sucking your breasts with a slight scrape of teeth. A high-pitched moan escaped your lips, one of your hands gripping his hair. 

His mouth was so hot, and he kept licking you, how you’d never felt before. You felt like you could die. So, when he removed his mouth from your breasts, you thought you were going to scream. 

He removed your underwear, leaving them in a pile with the rest of your clothes, spreading your legs once more as his gaze fell between your thighs. 

His fingers glide gently along your inner thigh, his touch warm and deliberate, but never rushed. His gaze softens as he takes you in, his breathing slow, controlled—like he’s memorizing every part of you.

"Are you sure?" he murmured, his voice hushed, almost reverent. His thumb stroked lazy circles against your skin, a silent reassurance, a quiet promise that he won’t rush you.

When you nodded, his lips part slightly, his eyes locked onto yours, searching—making sure.

"Let me take care of you," he breathed, his hands smoothing up your thighs as he leaned in closer, pressing a lingering kiss just above your knee. "I want to make this good for you."

He wrapped his arms around the back of your thighs, pulling you closer to him, and his head lowered between them. You shuddered at the first touch of his tongue, pleasure running through you. Each soft lap of your clit rolled through you. 

His arms held you so securely that you couldn’t move your hips while he licked you. As much as he said he wanted to take care of you, it felt like he was doing this for himself. 

“Zayne,” you moaned, digging your hands into his thick black hair. 

He swirled his tongue over your clit before sucking. His eyes were on you, watching you writhe beneath him. His finger filled you, sending a tremor through you, with his mouth on your clit, licking and sucking, while his fingers moved in and out of you. And he did it with such ease, deep noises of satisfaction falling from his lips. 

He was taking his time, slowly working you out and the pressure was building up in you. You bucked your hips, feeling the heat growing throughout you. 

“Zayne…I need more,” you cried out, your voice trembling with desperation. 

His name fell from your lips like a prayer, and he answered it with slow, calculated movements—his pace steady, yet devastating. He added another finger, stretching you further, his touch unrelenting as he pressed deeper, curling just right. The pleasure was unbearable in the best way, a wave crashing over you with no hope of escape.

Your breath hitched as his dark, heated gaze met yours, watching, reading every reaction like it was the only thing that mattered. His free hand smoothed over your thigh, grounding you, soothing you—only to bring you higher moments later.

A choked-out plea left your lips, your body arching, back curving as the heat coursed through your veins, pooling low in your stomach. You clenched around him, muscles tightening as that sharp, dizzying pleasure built to a breaking point.

“That's it,” he murmured, voice thick with something unreadable, something possessive yet achingly tender. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss against the soft skin of your inner thigh, his breath hot and teasing, sending shivers up your spine.

And then—release.

Your body trembled, pleasure crashing into you in relentless waves. He didn't stop, not right away, working you through it, coaxing every last aftershock from your sensitive body until you were completely spent.

You collapsed against the couch, fully fucked out, limbs heavy, your mind hazy with bliss. 

A shaky breath left your mouth, as you sat up slowly running your fingers through his hair.

Neither of you spoke. You didn’t need to.

The air between you was charged, thick with something unspoken, something dangerous. Something real.

His jasmine scent invaded your senses as his body wrapped around yours. You closed your eyes, surprised by the sudden upward jerk of him holding your naked body. You held him close as he carried you to the closed bedroom door. 

He laid you on the bed gently, holding your stare, he slipped off his shirt and sweatpants, your cheeks growing warmer even as he stood before you in his briefs. You glanced at his erection pressed through the fabric. He was so hard, and it was hot. And all for you. 

Goose bumps spread across your skin, as he opened the nightstand drawer, pulling out a condom. 

“Do you want me?” he whispered, his gaze meeting yours, as he dropped his briefs. 

“Yes,” you breathed.

He crawled over you, kissing your stomach and breasts as he did. His body covered yours, so heavy. It made your skin sing with satisfaction. He kissed your neck, bracing his hands beside your head. 

Your fingers trailed the line of hair, you'd been desperate to touch. You hesitated, unsure how to touch him. 

Zayne felt your hesitation, and meeting your gaze, he whispered, “Your touch… I need it.”

Your heart fluttered with uncertainty, but you slid your hands down gripping his erection. His forehead fell on the side of your neck, encouraging you further. 

You wrapped your hand around his length. And he groaned. You ran your hand down to the base and all the way back up. 

"Don’t make me wait…please" you whispered in his ear, placing a kiss there.

"Tell me how much you need me,” he rasped, nipping at your neck.

"I’ve always needed you, Zayne," you said softly, dragging your hands through his hair. "I need you in every way… not just tonight."

His eyes met yours before kissing you while you stroked him again. Your breasts brushed against his chest, sending pleasure through you. 

“...Please” you breathed. 

He rolled onto the bed next to you, slipping off his briefs, the sound of the wrapper crinkling in his hands drawing your attention. You watched as he poised to tear it open, his gaze flicking to yours for confirmation.

“Wait,” you whispered, your voice soft but resolute. He paused instantly, his eyes searching yours.

“I want to feel all of you,” you said, vulnerability lacing your tone, the weight of your trust hanging in the air.

His expression softened, his brow furrowing with both tenderness and concern.

“If it’s too much, just say the word,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, a promise woven into each syllable. “I won’t do anything you don’t want.”

He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering as though to reassure you. Positioning himself at your entrance, his movements were deliberate, his focus entirely on you.

He took the head of his erection and rubbed it against your pussy. The tip caught your clit, causing your breath to hitch. He started to slip the head inside you, and it stung. A shudder rolled through you as you exhaled. Your fingers curled on his chest as he stayed still inside you, watching your face. 

He pushed deeper into you, his gaze dark and unwavering as he watched the way your lips parted, a soft whimper spilling free. The sound sent a shudder through his body, his breath coming out ragged as he struggled to hold himself together.

The stretch burned—a slow, intoxicating burn—one that sent heat rolling through your veins. You felt so full, every inch of him fitting into you as though he was meant to be there.

When he finally bottomed out, a cry tore from your throat, your back arching, pressing you flush against his chest. His arms wrapped around you instinctively, his weight solid, grounding, overwhelming in the best way.

He didn’t move right away.

Instead, he stayed buried deep, letting you adjust, letting you feel every inch of him. Your arms wound around his neck, and he exhaled against your skin, his breath warm and uneven.

For a moment, there was only the sound of your mingled breathing, the slow rise and fall of your chests as you both tried to catch air. He was everywhere, his presence consuming, intoxicating.

And then, he moved.

A slow, deliberate roll of his hips.

You gasped at the sensation, at the way he dragged against your walls with aching precision, each thrust filling you completely. Your nails raked down his back, and he shuddered at the sensation, his control fraying at the edges.

“You take it so good,” he praised, his voice thick, rough with something raw, something reverent. 

Every time his pelvis ground against yours, his head spread throughout you. The friction sent sparks up your spine, every movement of his body against yours pulling a new sound from your lips.

He was watching you, utterly captivated by the way you unraveled beneath him. His thrusts remained slow, deliberate, as if savoring every reaction, every little gasp and moan that escaped you.

His fingers traced down your side, over the curve of your waist, gripping you tighter as his pace deepened, intensified. His gaze burned into yours, filled with something you couldn’t quite name.

His eyes locked onto yours, his thrusts slow and deliberate. “So beautiful for me,” he rasped, his voice low, dripping with need.

The words ran over your skin, filling you with warm satisfaction, your head tilting back as another moan escaped you. Zayne’s lips hovered above yours. With each slow thrust, they brushed yours lightly. 

His pace faltered, his rhythm stuttering as he fought for control, his breath ragged against your skin. But he didn’t dare rush—he wanted to feel every second of this, every shudder, every tremor that wracked your body beneath him.

“You’re mine… all mine,” he groaned, voice thick with possession, his body tensing, muscles drawn taut as he drove his hips deep one last time.

A choked moan escaped you as you shattered beneath him, pleasure crashing over you in waves. His grip on you tightened as his own release followed, a deep, guttural sound leaving his lips as he buried himself fully, claiming every inch of you.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of your ragged breathing, your hearts hammering in sync as he collapsed against you, his weight a comforting warmth pressing you into the mattress.

Neither of you spoke right away.

Zayne traced slow, lazy circles on your bare skin, grounding himself in the feel of you, the reality of you. His forehead rested against yours, his breath still uneven but calming, syncing with yours.

Then, in the quiet, his lips tipped into a smirk against your temple.

“So… does this mean I can finally call you my girlfriend?” His voice was lower now, teasing but laced with something real—something hopeful.

He pulled back slightly, eyes searching yours in the dim light. “Or do I have to seduce you all over again?”

His grin was cocky, but there was something vulnerable in the way he looked at you—like he needed this answer.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, a slow, tired smile spreading on your lips as you exhaled softly.

"I think you already have," you whispered.

The tension broke as he let out a satisfied hum, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before pulling you closer, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

And you didn’t want him to.

Not now.

Not ever.

[eatfishies]

Intoxicated By Your Sweet Taste 🔞

summary: Zayne thinks he hasn’t given you much attention due to his work.

or

Pussy drunk! Zayne can’t get enough of you.

word count: 2k tags: NSFW, zayne x reader (afab), no plot just filth, oral sex, oral fixation, cunnilingus, clit play, swearing, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, overstimulation, coming multiple times, domestic fluff at the end, pet names, breeding kink, creampie, established relationship fish notes: as always, pls heed the tags ~ nevertheless, this fic was inspired by this twt here ! hope all of u enjoy <3 ── ao3 link ★ ˙ ̟ | my twt !

It was past midnight when the door creaked open, revealing a tired looking Zayne. She was already in bed, snuggled up with the plushies her dear lover got for her. Zayne smiled at the sight before striding towards her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

That action caused her to stir, fluttering her eyes open to look at her partner. “You’re back.” She mumbled sleepily.

Zayne gently stroked her hair, lulling her back to sleep. “Go back to sleep, love.” He said as he continued to play with her hair.

“I’ll only sleep if you do too.” She replied, which earned her a small smile from Zayne.

Once he had finished showering, she couldn’t help but marvel at his chiseled chest, glistening with droplets of water, running down ever so slowly. She tore her eyes away, feeling a little bit flushed.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by her observant lover though as Zayne pointed out, “Weren’t you half awake earlier? It seems like you’ve got your attention elsewhere now.”

She didn’t even bother to attempt and deflate herself because it’s true. She is enjoying this view very much.

Just like that, she hoisted herself up and had her eyes solely on him. Desire and lust coursing through her veins. “Yeah… you’re not wrong. It’s because you’re so fucking hot, you know that?”

A chuckle rumbled out of Zayne, a little surprised by her bold declaration, considering how sleepy she was earlier. “Ah, so that’s what caught your attention?”

Before she could even reply, Zayne is already making his way to the bed. Her eyes widened slightly as he pushed her down gently, making her gaze up at him.

“Have I neglected my darling? Am I not pleasuring you enough?” He spoke as his face inched closer. She felt her breath hitched in her throat as the pit of her stomach coiled with pure lust.

The words she wanted to say were caught up, speechless by the sudden mood change. She bit her lip, “What are you gonna do if I say yes?”

Thick, strong fingers found its way to cup her face, “Then I shall take it upon myself to satisfy you until all your needs are met.” Without any hesitation, Zayne closed the distance between them and passionately kissed her.

She gasped as his other hand went to grab her hips, keeping her firmly in place as his tongue explored her mouth. Every ounce of sleepiness she had in her quickly vanished, instantly replaced by a primal hunger for him. She needs, no, she yearned to be one with him. To feel him in every way possible.

“Don’t… hold back.” He murmured in between her lips before he moved to trail kisses down on her neck, eliciting moans and whimpers. She closed her eyes shut, taking in the pleasure she’s receiving as he continued to suck and bite on her neck, leaving behind marks.

It was just a pure coincidence that she decided to wear a nightgown but she’s thankful nevertheless since it gave Zayne easy access to slip his hand up and caress her soft skin, feeling her up. She can feel her pussy growing needier and wetter with each touch he makes.

She sucked in a deep breath when his fingers began to rub against her slick, “Someone’s excited.” Zayne remarked as he suddenly pulled his fingers away and moved down to crouch in between her legs.

Instinctively, she spread wide open, staring down at him. “So wet for me… you really want this, hm?” She nodded eagerly, “Please… I need it.”

The once impassive doctor morphed into something else entirely. His expression held a plethora of emotions behind them as he felt his own hardness beneath his towel. “Very well. Scream for me princess.”

Any sort of thoughts she conjured up turned into nothing the moment Zayne licked her drooling pussy. His tongue expertly flicked her clit as she laid back down on the bed and writhed in intense pleasure.

“F- fuck! Zayne… hghh!” She moaned out as Zayne lapped at her needy cunt, savoring all of her wetness, wanting to taste all of her.

Her hands immediately tugged onto his hair, pulling him closer to her crotch as she screamed out his name repeatedly. It was too good that she could barely keep still, Zayne held onto her thighs to stop her from squirming.

The familiar pit in her stomach intensified, itching her closer to release. “Hahh…! Z- Zayne! I’m close, I’m so close!” She whined out, to which he kept tonguing her entrance vigorously until she arched her back and came all over his face.

Zayne pulled away slightly and licked his lips. There are traces of pussy juice on his mouth but he didn’t care. Not when his precious sweetheart tastes so divine. Before she could even beg him to put his hard shaft inside her, she gasped once she felt Zayne’s tongue on her folds again.

“W- wait! I… I just came!” She exclaimed, feeling like her legs were gonna give out from pleasure. But Zayne paid no mind as he resumed his ministrations on her sopping wet cunt. Even after orgasming, her pussy still throbbed for more.

At this point, she’s pretty sure she’s on cloud nine, especially when Zayne sucked on her nub, making her tremble. Green eyes observing her movements, watching as she moans and whimpers. Looking beautiful like this, Zayne wanted to keep this memory etched into his mind forever.

It was unbearable, she tried to push him away but he kept a strong grip on her legs, his tongue relentlessly flicking her eager pussy, swallowing all of her juices. He can feel himself getting intoxicated by her dripping cunt. There is nothing more rewarding than coming home everyday and getting to lap at her entrance like a starved man whilst also relishing her delightful sounds.

“C- coming!” Her hands scrambled for purchase as she came undone. Zayne lifted his head and spoke in a raspy voice, “Did you feel good, honey?”

There was no single coherent thought in her mind right now. She couldn’t even think properly, it’s all a muddled mess, too foggy with pleasure. Sensing her pliant demeanor, Zayne moved to her side, brushing off the strands of her hair from her face.

“You’re so good for me, dear.” Was the only thing she heard before Zayne trailed his fingers down to caress her inner thighs, igniting goosebumps all over. She weakly muttered, “What are you doing?” Instead of responding, Zayne leaned down and pecked her lips. “Are you a good girl for me?”

His finger easily slipped in her gaping pussy, thrusting it in and out, earning a mewl from her. She bit her lips, “T- too sensitive... Zayne…” She clutched onto his arm, looking at him with glassy eyes.

“I said, are you a good girl?” Zayne repeated his question but this time, he inserted another finger in, taking away all of her last resolve.

“Mhmm… ah! Yes! Yes!” That further drove Zayne to keep plunging his fingers deep inside her gummy walls.

It has been hours since Zayne has been pushing her far off into her limits. Sleep be damned as he is now lapping up at her loose, dripping cunt. She could only let out soft mewls and moans whenever he skillfully buried his head in between her thighs. No amount of protest could get him to stop. It’s like Zayne has been possessed by an insatiable lust demon or some sort, at least that’s what she thought.

Tears stained her cheeks as she stared at Zayne who was lazily eating her out. “Zayne… please…”

He gave her pussy one last lick before meeting her teary gaze, “Please what?”

“Please… fuck me…” She pleaded, her hands reaching out to pull him on top of her. “You’ve been torturing my pussy non-stop… I want to make you feel good too.”

“Ah, I see. So, my needy princess wants it that bad?” He spoke as he discarded his towel. It’s kind of amazing at how he managed to hold back his desire to mount her completely, especially since she looked ravishing like this. Blissed out and glowing from the amount of orgasm she lets out.

She nodded eagerly, “Give it to me, please? I’ve been so good.” To emphasize, she wrapped her legs around his hips, trying to close the gap between them and feel his body against hers.

“I guess someone deserves it, after all.” With ease, Zayne lined his cock on her entrance, sliding it in and immediately began to thrust.

While their love-making session was always tender, albeit sometimes a bit passionate, it was never really like this. Intense and unrelenting with vigor as Zayne continued to pound into her deep. Her cunt spasming and clenching tightly around his cock. “Fuck… you feel so wonderful around me, sweetheart.”

Even if she wanted to say something, each thrust made her eyes roll back. Her mind is running into an overdrive as Zayne picks up his pace, unfaltering and burning with the need to come inside her.

Noticing Zayne’s furrowed brows and his eyes closed shut, “Come for me. Come inside me, baby. Want you to breed me.” She spoke, her voice laced with urgency and desperation.

At last, Zayne thrusted inside her hard before stilling, heaving and burying his face in her neck. She smiled at him dazedly as she cards her fingers through his hair. When Zayne pulled out, he watched in fascination at how her cunt drooled with cum. The sight alone made him want to ravage her right then and there, but he knew, they both had to sleep.

So, instead, Zayne helped clean her up and cuddled her as they both drifted off to slumber.

Something was wet… and there were sounds of shuffling. When she woke up, her eyes widened as she saw Zayne languidly circling her clit with his tongue. “H- huh?” She uttered out, confused and yet, Zayne only mumbled out, “Lay back. Let me please you once more before I leave for work.”

How could she refuse when her lover had asked so sweetly? She did as he instructed and laid back down on the soft bed, letting him spread her wide open. At this point, she had lost track of how many times she came, especially from last night.

This time, Zayne made sure to take his time, flicking her folds ever so slowly. One part of her felt like he was torturing her but another part of her couldn’t help but preened at how good it feels when he’s savoring her like this.

The morning sun casted a soft glow around the room, making this even more enjoyable as she focused on Zayne, tasting every drop her cunt oozed, not letting any of it go to waste. The slurping sound reverberated across the walls as she flushed.

Despite coming so many times, the familiar pit in her stomach still lingered, coiling and intensifying as she neared her climax. “Hghh… Zayne… baby, I’m so close.” She meekly mewled out, her legs shaking. Zayne sucked on her nub and sneakily thrusted a finger into her cunt, scissoring her whilst he ate her out.

Just like that, it was enough to drive her to the edge. She came, hard on his face. Her vision blurs and she shuts her eyes closed, letting the euphoria wash over her.

She faintly heard Zayne uttering a soft, “I love you” to her before getting up and tucking her in bed.

The second time she woke up, she found that Zayne had already left for work. She groggily got out of bed and headed to the kitchen. There, she found a plate of breakfast ready made for her and a bouquet of flowers.

Her body was sore all over but this gesture made it all worth it. Smiling, she walked up to the table and picked up the bouquet, smelling the flowers before sitting down and stuffing the food, the tiredness fading away and was replaced by hunger.

Luckily for her, she had a day off today and was able to cozy up at home until Zayne comes back. He gave her a fond smile as he placed the bag on the coffee table, “I got you macarons from the cafe. What do you feel like having for dinner? Let me cook for you.”

Safe to say, she is indeed a lucky girl to be able to love and be with Zayne.

[yves-cnvlra]

hc zayne + sylus -

they are soo proud of their money but itll never swallow them. they both just know theyve earned this respect, taking pride in their leadership.

theres no universe where mc pays for anything w her own money when theyre around -

zayne would fit his card into her wallet (and even when she tries using her own card to pay for stuff, he immediately pays her credit card payment giving her no time to win, so in the end shes still using "his" card)

sylus would throw thick wads of cash in various locations (like pockets, bags, etc.) because he thinks it's a nice surprise (he totally believes that smelling and touching money increases serotonin)

both loovee a haul at the end of your splurges, even if they are disappointed it ends so fast (sylus is already texting luke and kieran to buy everything from the places you visited (they dont know whether to listen or not) while zayne takes mental notes of your preferred styles and brands, already planning what to buy the next time he's free (his list is also getting out of hand))

funny enough, they both love seeing the red minuses on their bank accounts when they realize its you. suddenly, zayne's signing up for every shift humanely possible at the hospital, and sylus building his market bigger (both to satiate their need to keep you swimming in their money)

[gattapotatta]

How do we deal with somebody who knowingly commits a crime?

Now he's going to wear this shirt even more often

[hesperisms]

I started the game for Sylus, but Zayne stole me from him and became the first man I got rings with. 💍 As always happens with quad banners, Sylus comes home first and then Zayne takes my precise wish, because that smug Crow loves to remind me he was first in my heart. 🖤💙 good luck to all on your pulls!

[beneathashadytree]

ROCK THE BOAT - ZAYNE LI X READER

Warnings : sex, slight possessiveness, nipple play, implied overstimulation of himself, Zayne is pretty much drunk on sex, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : filthy smut but they’re SO in love I promise <3

Word count : 0.9K words

Additional notes : I got Zayne’s new card in the first 10 pulls, and suddenly all I could think of was Zayne fucking me freaky style in the early morning🫶🏽 This is inspired by Aaliyah’s song, Rock the Boat!

Tip jar!

Masterlist

“Mmm… slow down… Zayne,” they cried out in his lap, hands desperately seeking purchase on his shoulders, as he gasped out a shuddering breath.

Hazel eyes were glazed over, the pupils nearly completely overtaking them. He couldn’t see straight; couldn’t think straight, and couldn’t get past the haze of a lust so overpowering that it knocked all breath from his lungs. A dizzying surge of passion churned inside him, and he couldn’t help pulling them closer by the small of their back, almost scrambling to drag them higher on his lap. “I-I can’t. Can’t… stop. Sorry, I—Fuck, I need more.”

“You have me. Shit, ‘m all yours,” they whimpered out, swallowing thickly as their fingers dug into his flushed skin, the sharpness of their nails contrasting against their plush warmth and somehow bringing him even closer to that edge he yearned for now.

Zayne’s mind was swarmed with the flashing images of the sheer temptation ontop of him. So much so, he couldn’t say anything coherent, save for harsh whispers of their name tinged with desperation he would’ve failed to conceal—though his back arching to meld their bodies into one, and his fingers almost bruising against the fat of their hips, gave his needs away. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from everything about them.

The glistening skin of their chest pressed up right against his nose to breathe in their sweat-tinged scent; his cock disappearing inside them with every frenzied thrust upwards; seeing the thick ring of their combined arousal at the base of his cock everytime they raised their hips off of his… he couldn’t help the staggering moan that escaped him. “Close. You have to…” His eyes blew even wider open, an almost-crazed glint to them as their walls fluttered around his length, knowing just what he needed without him verbalizing it.

Throwing his head back as the euphoric feeling burned his skin, he could only muster a squeeze of their hips before he began sloppily fucking up into them. Like he would die if they pulled away; if their breathtaking teary eyes looked away from his. They almost began to squeeze them shut, and with just one whisper of his name in that sweet voice of theirs, he found himself burying his face into their chest again, all reason thrown out the window.

No control whatsoever remained, and his teeth grazed against their skin, tongue slowly laving at the dewdrops it caught. Zayne’s lips chased a trail only he could see, one that he’d memorized in every night he spent aching for them. He sucked blooming red marks onto their chest, marking them up as his cock pistoned in and out of them like he couldn’t bear to even pull out halfway.

Another dulcet moan left their parted lips, broken with the force of his thrusts that they tried so helplessly to meet. “You—!” A keen broke off that thought as his lips finally wrapped around their nipple, sucking with a fervor he never even knew he could possess. It was like some sort of fever had washed over him, drained him of any rationality he used to pride himself on.

But what use was rationality in the sheer intensity of a want like his? How could he even have any, when their nails almost broke the skin of his shoulders and their tight walls took inch after throbbing inch? When he was rolling their sweet bud between his teeth and moaning around them?

Their taste robbed him of his sense, and stripped him of all propriety he could’ve feigned. There was no going back after feeling their softness on his lips, knowing that he’d be the only one to ever feel their incomparable warmth like this; the one person who’d feel them clenching around his cock; the one person to hear their stuttered curses with every move he made inside them.

“Gonna cum,” they cried, a teardrop dripping down their cheek, “Mmm, fuck, Zayne, harder!” And there it was, their true desire slipping past their babbled words and pleas for more. His eyes trained on their angelic face, the intensity of his gaze pinning them down in a whirlpool of shared pleasure, mouth still worshipping their nipples with the attention they so desperately needed.

He was watching every flutter of their eyelashes as their hips ground into his, their body giving a small jerk in his firm grasp when a particularly harsh thrust tipped them over the edge and had them making a mess of him. And just feeling them tighten around him—knowing he’d so easily fucked them so good to orgasm—sent his own release crashing after them.

With a low groan as he pulled away from their swollen nipples, he couldn’t stop himself from almost instantly spilling his cum inside them, filling them to the brim until it dripped past their fluttering entrance and down their quivering thighs.

Clearly unable to hold themself up any longer after their mind-blowing half-clothed impromptu session, they collapsed onto his chest, both of their out of sync breaths heaving as they clambered to bring each other closer. It was an immediate want; a deeply-ingrained need that Zayne could feel between his ribs. He’d be damned if he had to get up any time soon.

Not when he knew he’d need at least another two rounds before the fog could clear from his head.

Taglist: @angry-and-yandere @nxx-jordiepord @honestlyjustablog @dawnbreakersgaze @tartartagliaboo @lucis-noctiana @riinari-sa @flurrina @reika-desu @randomidk-123 @tikitsune @cofijelli @roll-of-royces @lemonsupernova @loveyoutodeep @belovedof @obiwanmcprobie @hawtlineblingz @kalatipunan @eurekazz @bifedebruxa @thescribeswife @mysticangel123 @xenasolos @jvnluvr @dann-acalle @rosariymchapter @rin-sv14 @yololesgo @an-ever-angry-bi @semi-orangeapple @lavanderbliss @myturnwhen @winterlvod @carsonology @deepzombieyouth @respitable @stellisangelicus-world @kvsqkiii @bitchynightmarepost @snoozeflare @spotted-salamander @cindywasneverhere @ladyparamount @sncrly0urs @huntersmoon1 @musiclover2119 @girl-who-lives-in-delusion @milktsukii @fromdeepspace-withlove @hrhmimieucliffe @icedunderwaterroom @granddearduck @skriblobz @nadinefromwhere @imhere2dosomething @saerotonins @cantescapethevoid @teewritessmth @lovra974 (more in replies!)

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[grabby-smitten]

I am still stuck (pun intended) with werewolf boyfriend Zayne and his knot. So a blurb is it.

Werewolf bf!Zayne has his knot deep inside you, forcing your sloppy cunt to stretch around it. He bullied his growing knot even deeper, making you whine and trash as you felt his tip kiss your cervix.

His cock throbbed and palpitated inside your spongy walls, another rope of cum was furiously pumped inside you. Sending electric-like stabs throughout your body, you could feel him pounding you up to your throat, desperately.

And you have to stay there for a while—wrapped around him, swollen knot in place; deep inside you. The more time you spent warming him, the more you start to feel the heaviness of his load in your hole creating pressure against your womb. Your lower belly aching as you came for the ninth time—lower lips fluttering as your legs gave up on you. But he was there to help you stand so you wouldn’t hurt yourself by pulling on his knot.

A broken cry from you, indicated that you felt him beginning to deflate. Both your bodies shuddered as he slowly pulled his still raw and engorged knot out, the popping and wet sound mixed with your whimpers as you felt the hot liquid running down your legs.

Werewolf bf!Zayne happily nuzzling against you. He was overjoyed to see your glossy eyes blink at him. Your fucked-out expression was the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

[snowave]

Okay, hear me out. Let me just type and post my thoughts about Zayne (which are probably thoughts that aren't just mine, but for other people, too) that kept on lingering in my mind.

In my opinion, being in a relationship with Zayne means a lot of subtle affections, and what other people label as the "bare minimum".

Opening the doors for you,

Head pats,

Accompanying you,

Giving you things that reminds you of him,

And many more.

Some people these days say that we shouldn't settle for less, that we shouldn't be "the bare minimum" enjoyers as what they really call it. I mean, I get it, we should go for someone who wouldn't give you less, but would give you more than you deserve. But for me, sometimes it's always the simplest and the littlest things that makes a relationship work.

Being in a relationship with Zayne would be filled with those simplest and littlest things that other people might brush off as mundane, or a part of daily life. But I think (probably just my mindset, or whatever), sometimes those things are usually neglected. That because they're part of our everyday lives, we don't do those things for others. But for some people (like me), they mean a lot, because it means that the person who does that to you pays you attention, is attentive to what you might need, and knows what to do around you. That is how Zayne is to MC in almost every universe that they're in.

In addition to the things I've mentioned, I think Zayne would make you feel very secure in your relationship. Sure, he might do those mundane tasks to others as well because he's a gentleman, but with you, he does it because he knows you all too well. He makes sure that everything is comfortable for you, that everything is working for you, that things won't be too complicated for you. That's how Zayne is. Also, I think Zayne is a very present partner in a relationship, despite of his busy schedule as a doctor. Even if it isn't a physical presence, I think he's the type to text you about his day, ask you about what you did, always curious about what you are doing, etc., that despite of everything, he will always and will find time to make his presence known into your days, especially those long, agonizing shifts of his, or some medical missions, and the like.

As for reassurances, this is just my opinion, but I think you won't need to ask Zayne for reassurances about your relationship, as I've mentioned, he will make you feel very secure about your relationship with him. Even if you don't ask or tell him something, he just knows. He will make you feel like you're the center of his universe or something like that. But of course, every one has their bad days as well, Zayne will probably reassure you in a way that you'll only realize how huge and deep this man loves you.

(I'm a huge simp for this man, Zayne Li, you'll always have my heart, really. Just my random thoughts, which are probably not that far from yours.)

[xinnn6]

She’s so real for that because Zayne’s eyelashes really is the prettiest. Like, look at these!!!

[omi-resources]

Hex code: #a2ebff

Hex code: #c6b8ff

Hex code: #d15b12

Hex code: #9f1d15

Hex code: #ff79a2

source for the PNGs and colors <- LaDS official website

Like/rb if used || no need to credit me

[lovely-hani]

hi, hi!! so...i have this idea for a (gender neutral) non-mc x sylus fic!

—

basically, you're a third year surgical resident at akso hospital, who has been pining over dr. zayne li for years. he had been your classmate in medical school for a brief period of time before he graduated early, and while he respects you as a co-worker, he has never seen you as anything more than a friend. you also notice how he speaks with a certain deepspace hunter whenever she visits the hospital. his longing glances, his gentle touches, his patient voice: you were very familiar with what a man looked like when he was in love. and so, you love him from afar.

one late night, however, zayne and ms. hunter stop you right before you leave the hospital. they explain that one of ms. hunter's "friends" had been critically injured and needed surgery. the "friend" in question was slung between the two of them, extremely bruised and bloodied, and though zayne seemed extremely distrustful toward the white-haired man, you know that he would always follow ms. hunter's requests.

they also explain why they need your help specifically:

the man is a wanted criminal, and they know that you could be trusted with a covert surgery.

he had been injured in the back of his head, and even though you have yet to finish your general surgical residency, you have more knowledge about this kind of procedure than zayne. (you were planning to specialize in neurosurgery, after all.)

so, instead of going home to watch another episode of your favorite k-drama, you were stuck at the hospital at three am, half-assing an illegal surgery for the man you love and the woman that he loves.

you volunteer to house the man in your apartment, and he eventually introduces himself to you after sleeping for nearly a day. before he leaves, sylus—who you learn to be the leader of onychinus—strikes a deal with you. he needs your help to convince ms. hunter to resonate with him, and in exchange, perhaps dr. zayne li would have a bit more free time on his hands. you initially reject his offer, but sylus explains that he would also pay for your medical school tuition.

so, cue you and sylus attempting to woo ms. hunter and both your feelings and his feelings becoming messier and messier.

—

anyways, if u guys want to read this, pls lmk if u want to be tagged, hehe! also, i need help figuring out what name to give ms. hunter because it might be pretty awkward trying to call her several nicknames for the entire fic series.

another note: it will be slightly canon divergent because sylus does not entirely remember his past life with mc.

as for a title...i am currently thinking about naming this series "to be your first choice" :) i think that this title gives a little bit of a hint as to what the overarching theme of this fic will be, hehe.

[buckiverse]

☆--- warnings: zayne calls you a good girl, fluff, a bit suggestive, (I DESIRE HIM DEEPLY)

yes, I went to the dentist, yes, he called me a good girl, yes, I'm now writing this.

It had been a busy day, with errands piling up because of the demands of your job. With all the rushing around, you’d almost forgotten about your doctor's appointment, and now you were running a bit late.

As always, your appointment was scheduled with your primary care physician, Zayne. Yes, he’s a cardiologist, so a check-up seemed… below the scope of his practice. But he’d insisted on handling it for you, especially given the state of your heart issues. Besides, he was more than just a doctor—he was a close friend, someone who had been there through every rough patch.

“Long time no see,” he said, peeking over his glasses at you, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. You rolled your eyes at his sarcasm. A month ago, you’d been in his office after a major accident during one of your shifts as a hunter. It hadn’t been that long.

“Yes, yes, I just need a routine check-up,” you replied, smiling back. You watched him move across the room, grabbing your chart, and then sliding the rolling chair to sit directly in front of you.

This was all familiar. You knew the routine well by now, given how often you ended up here. As he picked up his stethoscope, you straightened your back automatically, your muscles moving out of habit to give him the proper position to listen to your heartbeat.

You were used to the way he leaned in close, the scent of his cologne mingling with the sterile smell of the room. It always made you feel safe, like things were under control, even if the world outside was chaotic. Maybe it was because he’d been there through every crisis—patching you up after late-night incidents, making sure you took your meds, even sneaking in sweets when you looked tired.

He grabbed a wooden tongue depressor and a small flashlight, and without thinking, you opened your mouth, anticipating the familiar action. It was almost muscle memory at this point, but today, when he gently pressed the stick on your tongue, he said, “Good girl.”

Your eyes widened, and you felt a rush of heat spread across your cheeks. It was so simple, but something about the way he said it… caught you off guard.

Zayne dropped the stick in the trash, tapping your leg as usual, signaling you could close your mouth. “Always so obedient,” he added, his voice light but his eyes watching your reaction closely, almost like he was studying you.

“Shut up…” you blurted out, trying to play it off, but your voice came out a little too quick, a little too flustered. It was embarrassing, how easily he could make you feel like this—like you were transparent, and he could see through every layer you tried to hide behind.

He chuckled softly, swiveling the chair away to grab the next tool. “Mhm, it’s okay if you like that, y/n,” he said, almost nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just turned your world upside down with a few simple words.

[nezukoo-channn]

— giliw ko (Zayne x F!Reader)

Tags: Non-MC F!Reader x Zayne, Reader isn’t MC, Reader uses/gets addressed w female pronouns (she/her), Spanish colonial AU! Not historically accurate , Zayne, Reader, and Caleb are small children during this (around the ages of 7 to 12), appearances of Zayne and readers' parents, possibly OOC Zayne and Caleb , there are translations (not exactly word by word but I translated it based on what's the most accurate thought behind it, it's italicized beside or after the dialogue) , fluff, children making memories together (kids being kids) , different social classes (note that you and Zayne don't have the same social classes, explains why your family works for him)

A/N: this is my first time writing lnds fanfic so please be kind 🥹. this is the prologue of the main story, there will be a part 2! I haven't written in so long and I haven't written fanfiction for even longer, I'm so sorry for the OOC and the possible errors this fic had, I tried my best to proof read and do some editing and corrections. Any reblogs or form of love is appreciated by me thank you! 💖

Wc: 2.2k words

Dedicated to: @deusfoundry (thank you for being the first person who listened to my idea and supported me throughout its creation, I hope i don't disappoint you 🙇‍♀️)

Taglist for this fic : none yet

Divider by : @saradika-graphics

Prologue

⋆⁺₊❅。

Zayne remembers the first time he met you.

He was seven years old when his mother introduced you. His mother had looked around and asked if any child was perhaps his age who could get along with his quiet personality. Luckily, your mother, one of the maids that helped raised him, had you, a child around his age. As a child, you had long hair, bright eyes that shone under the bright morning light, and skin that glowed under the sun’s comfort. You step forward, bowing to him.

“Y/N.” You say, glancing up at him and stretching out a hand to him, waiting for him to accept it. “Ano ang pangngalan mo?” What's your name?

Zayne takes your hand and hovers his lips against yours. His mother’s eyes widened, surprised by her son’s actions. Meanwhile, yours stares in disbelief at his actions, yet no expression of disdain or anger paints their faces.

“Zayne.” He says, his quiet voice slips out of his tongue. “Ang pangngalan ko ay Zayne, binibining Y/N. Natutuwa kita makilala.” I'm Zayne, Miss Y/N. Nice to meet you.

Zayne remembers your bright laughter.

You shake your head at his introduction, remarking about how formal he sounds for a boy around the same age as you. He tries to defend himself, saying that he wanted to make a good impression and yet, you continue to laugh. You look up to your mother and his, remarking about the way he acted and greeted you out loud. Before your mother can scold you about your mouth and behavior, his laughs.

“Ganyan talaga siya, iha.” His mother remarks about her son’s behavior, “Parehas sila ng ama niya.” He's like that, my dear. Acts a lot like his father.

You nodded at their words, but honestly, you couldn't care any less. You look at Zayne, still standing in front of you. Taking his hand in yours , you made a beeline towards the outside. Your small feet pass through their family’s beautiful garden with various flowers, shrubs, and individuals who helped maintain it.

You stop every once in a while to appreciate its beautiful colors and sweet smells. You take a whiff of Jasmines, grab Santans that fell on the ground below, and carry Plumerias in your spare hand, dragging Zayne behind you at all times.

Past the garden, you weave through the grass and onto the vast plantation fields. It was already late in the morning, the plants tower over your small heads as the sun shines down. There were people working on the fields, making sure that the rice being planted can be eventually harvested once the season comes. You pass through them all, making sure to give way to yourself and your new friend (despite the sighs of the workers, mainly from your father and grandfather).

Meanwhile, inside, your mother and his laughs. “Ganyan ba talaga ang anak mo?” Is she always like this? She asks, her voice in disbelief. She glances outside, their silhouettes already gone. Her question was one of pure genuine curiosity rather than offense. Your mother looks up from what she is doing and nods.

“Opo, Señora. Ganyan talaga ang anak ko.” Yes, she's always like that. Your mother answers and proceeds to resume her cleaning. His mother smiles, giving a nod of approval before leaving.

Zayne remembers what the first few days of his life was with you in the picture.

Most days, he was quiet and observant, kept to himself, liked to read and follow his parents, who were doctors in their small town, everywhere. He observes the way they treat patients, going above and beyond to help others in need in their small barrio. He was exposed to various people of various ages and social classes but would watch from afar, making sure he wouldn’t disturb his parents’ work.

But ever since you came…things slowly changed.

He’d still follow his parents around, but everytime you wanted to play and talk to him, he’d drop what he was doing to accompany you. You laugh, talking to him in what little Spanish and mostly Tagalog you knew and he’d listen along. Most days start early with you helping around the house. Your mother and the other maids would give you little tasks to do, like cleaning up and wiping down the tables to keep you entertained for a while until Zayne was awake and spent the whole day together.

However, your most important task was given by Zayne’s mother, days after you two had met and begun to get along.

“Iha,” Dear His mother calls for you and you approach, dusting your skirt the way you saw your mother and women do when she calls for them.

“Opo, Señora?” Yes , Maam? Your high-pitched voice replies.

“Masaya ka rito? Kumusta kayo ng anak ko? Narinig ko sa ina mo na palaging kayo naglalaro at tinuturuan ka rin niya magbasa?” Are you enjoying it here? How are you and Zayne? I heard from your mother that you two play together often and he's been teaching you how to read?

You nod immediately and begin to ramble about the various activities the two of you like to do together, such as him teaching you how to read and write, and in turn, you teach him to play various kids games you knew and help him slowly break out of his quiet exterior. His mother nods along, smiling at your anecdotes. Once you are done, you realize what happened . You look down at the ground, trying to avoid her gaze.

“Lo..lo siento, Señora…” I'm sorry, Maam. You whisper in apology. She waves her hand, dismissing it. You glance up, and a smile returns to your face.

“Natutuwa ako, iha. Saan magpatuloy ito dahil hindi ko pa nakita na palaging ngumiti ang anak ko.” I'm glad to hear that, my dear. I hope it continues because I haven't seen my son smile so frequently. She smiles before dismissing you off. You thank her before running to Zayne’s room upstairs, ready to start a new day with him.

You remember how you two played with each other.

Your hands intertwined as you ran through the fields. He greets workers a pleasant morning before you continue to drag him along. Far away from the fields, you both reach a small clearing. It was mostly flat, with several trees standing tall to shade you both. There you spend your days together, playing and laughing. Zayne would tease you, and in turn, you tease him back. There were days he’d bring books, teaching you how to read and write your names in the dirt. In turn, you teach him how to climb a tree (which didn’t go as planned) and how to play the games you knew until lunch comes around and you both head back home.

After lunch, the house is silent. You and Zayne find your own small space in a large house to simply do one thing: to take an afternoon nap before playing with each other throughout the afternoon until dinner.

That was your routine everyday. Some other days had exceptions, but it felt exciting as you two played and knew more about each other. You knew that Zayne likes stray kittens or any feline in general, and hates carrots, picking at his food whenever there was the sight of it. It was the exact reason why your grandmother, the one who cooks at his family's, always removed carrots from his meals.

Most of all, you know that you are one of his friends—his only friend maybe, but for the ever quiet and observant Zayne, that was enough.

Besides you being Zayne’s friend, your playmate, a boy around your age named Caleb joined along.

You three did everything together despite your different backgrounds and families. It didn't seem to be a problem as you were children , barely the ages of 10, enjoying what it's like to be children.

However, that all came to an end one afternoon.

You three were playing at your usual spot, with Zayne quietly leaning against the tall tree, Caleb lying down against the blades of grass, laughing , and you, standing over both boys with a large grin on your face. You were gloating about how you finally won against Caleb in a game of tag while he groaned in annoyance , grumbling about your loud and obnoxious behavior.

“Ang ingay…” Zayne grumbles teasingly, “Ano ba ka? Isang bata?” You're so loud...what are you? A baby?

You glance up at him. “At ano ka ba?” You retorted, “Isang matandang tao?” And what are you? An old man?

He sighs.

Silence slowly begins to envelope you three as you join them,  sitting down on the grassy fields. The sun had begun to set, showing a various array of different colors. Red bleeds into orange and yellow, with shades of pink appearing to dot the horizon as well. 

“Aalis ako dito.” I'm leaving. Zayne says. You and Caleb pause, glancing up to him. You stared at him in disbelief,  thinking he was kidding. 

“Huh?!” You and Caleb spit out, staring in disbelief of his words. “Bakit?” Why?

“Pupunta ako sa Maynila…at baka naman sa Europa or sa Asya , hindi ko pa alam—para mag-aral ng medisina.” I'm leaving for Manila, and maybe Europe or other parts of Asia, Im not sure yet— but Im leaving to study medicine one day. Zayne answers.

Manila was a large place, the crown jewel of the Philippines and the seat of Spanish colonial authority. It is the place where people go to and, in turn, leave their families behind for a hope of a better life for them.

Manila is the place where dreamers live, where the tall walls and gates in Intramuros block the rich and known from everyone else.

You remember stories about your parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, visiting the city of Manila. You remember how your eyes brightened with excitement as you wanted to know more about her beauty.

Manila is a flame, and all the people flock like moths towards it.

And Europe.

It was even bigger than Manila, a whole continent, even. The seats of Imperial powers. The place that only a lucky few that have the right money and privilege can feel her luxurious embrace.

If Manila was like winning one lottery ticket , then going to Europe was like winning the whole casino.

You and Caleb look at each other. Zayne was leaving. You don't know when you'll see him again, or if you'll ever see him either. You kept a bare face, trying not to let the tears from your eyes fall. Caleb got up from the grass and squeezed your hand.

“Talaga?” Your voice says, almost cracking from the shock. “Aalis ka?” Really? You're leaving?

Zayne nods, confirming his fate.

“Kailan ka babalik?” Will you return? Was your next question.

Zayne shrugs his shoulders. “H…hindi ko alam kung kailan…” I don't know when.

You pause. He wasn't sure when he's coming back. You aren't sure if he's even coming back alive in the first place— would he even remember all the times you played together if he leaves? What if he doesn't come back? You sniffle, trying to wipe the invisible tears from your face.

Caleb was quiet. He stares at Zayne as well. He knows that Zayne leaving would break your heart. He gets up and approaches, pulling you and Zayne into a tight hug.

Zayne didn't know if he'll be able to live with your heart broken for a dream beyond the comforts of the province.

And that's when you started to cry.

You sobbed, staining everyone's clothes with snot as you sniffled. You wiped your tears, grumbling a thing or two about the way you're acting. Tears continue to stream down your face as it becomes hard for you to breathe, your throat closing up from all the tears you exhuasted out. Zayne and Caleb noticed your struggle and step away, giving you the needed space to breathe.

No words were exchanged between you three as you held each other and cried until sun down. You helped wipe each other's tears before looking back at the direction of home and begin to walk home, taking slow steps to absorb one of the last moments you three had together before reality stepped in.

You remembered the day Zayne left.

You were helping your mother and the other women clean the house when Zayne approached you, his father standing a bit farther away. He was dressed up nicely, in clothes similar to boys his age and around his social circle. His hair was done as well, his black strands in place.

You dusted your skirt, pressed the wrinkled ends of your blouse and fixed your messy hair. Your hands still had invisible dust stuck onto them, yet you tried to get rid of it.

It was a stark contrast between the both of you.

A reminder that in the end, he was a son of rich doctors from notable families.

And, there was you. Just an ordinary girl, born to ordinary parents , and set out to live an ordinary life.

At least, in the few years that you knew each other, social classes and privilege never mattered.

“Aalis na ako.” I'm leaving. He says, taking your hand in his. He lowers his lips against it, placing a soft kiss. You wipe a tear from your eye with your other hand, trying not to cry. He lets go of your hand, picking something from his pocket before handing it to you.

You tilt your head, staring at the small thing beneath your palms. It was a small flower, its colors faded. Its beautiful White turned into a soft Brown. The sweet smell laced lightly across its small petals. You held the small flower on the palm of your hand and smiled.

“Ang Ganda…” Its beautiful... You whisper in amazement. He nods, smiling as well.

“Bibigyan kita ng maraming magandang bulaklak sa pagbalik ko…” I'll bring you beautiful flowers when I return..

He promises. His father calls for him, making Zayne look away from you and return to his Father. You waved goodbye to each other, seeing them leave the house and close the door behind them.

You glanced down at the flower again, before placing the dried flower inside your pocket, patting it gently before getting back to work.

[thwd4510]

Zayne x f!reader who loves the smell of alcohol.

○o。. ○o。. ○o。.

mentions of sex, slightly suggestive themes

summary: meeting up with zayne at the hospital after finishing up a mission so you can go home together. the strong scent of alcohol clings to him, much to your satisfaction.

A soft knock resounds from the other side of Zayne's office door. You decided to stop by at Akso Hospital just so you could both head home together.

"Come in," Zayne's ever firm, but rather tired-sounding voice echoed from inside.

You gently pulled down the door handle, revealing his dimly lit doctor's office where he sat at his desk, swarmed with neatly stacked paperwork. Momentarily looking up from the rims of his thin glasses, he pauses the scribbling of his pen as he notices you. A warm smile tugs at each corner of his lips as you approach him.

"My love," he began, turning his swivel chair to face you. "It's late, yet you came here instead of going home."

He outstretched his arms, beckoning you to come and close the space between you. You warmly embrace him, gently sitting on his lap as his arms fervently wrap around your torso. Zayne burries his face in the crook of your neck, relishing in the comfort of your presence.

"I wanted to wait for you to get off work as well, so we can go home together." You smiled, fingers coming up to his head, carding through his slightly dishevelled hair, a bit messed up from the stress of his work day.

He only hums in response, the low vibration from his voice causing a few goosebumps to appear on your skin. For a moment, peaceful silence envelops the room as you two find warmth and relaxation in each other's hold. Besides the white noise from the air conditioning ringing in your ears, you finally take notice of the strong scent of alcohol from your boyfriend.

Ever since you were little, you often found yourself in the clinic or hospital due to a few health issues. The scents of alcohol/disinfectant and latex gloves are things you've grown accustomed to—comforted by, even. Not to mention that your boyfriend often comes home and instantly shrouds any room he's in with the same scent. You've learned to associate such smells with Zayne, being reminded of his handsome face every time you disinfect your hands after a mission.

And, oh, you just can't forget the countless times you've had sexual encounters with him while he smelled like that. Your skin pressed up against each other, faces just inches away as he grounds his hips into you with fervor. The air is always filled with the smell of sweat, sex, and... alcohol.

It drove you half crazy.

You take a long, deep inhale of Zayne's white coat, the smell settling deep within your sinuses as you sigh.

Zayne lifts his head, a little startled by your sudden sniffing.

"Y/N," he whispered, a small smirk on his face. "What are you doing?"

You pull back, a coy smile on your face, and meet his gaze.

"You smell so good."

Zayne chuckled at your remark, reaching up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb lovingly drawing circles on your skin.

"But I smell like alcohol, love."

"Yeah, I know. That's why..." You trailed off, letting his hand remove itself from your cheek as you dove back down for another whiff of him.

"You are quite strange." Zayne chuckled heartily once more, hands cozily resting on the small of your back.

His strong scent overwhelms your senses in the best way possible, making your heart flutter with each inhale. You laugh nasally, your warm breath hitting Zayne's neck, making his hairs stand on end. You continue your endeavors, nose burried in the collar of his coat, drowning yourself in the sharp scents.

"Y/N," Zayne softly huffed, your actions obviously taking effect on him.

His hands grip you ever-so-slightly tighter as you make small movements in his lap. You pay no mind to his words as you finally stop and rest your head on his broad shoulder.

"You enjoyed that quite a lot." Zayne's ears, warm and red, are the first things that greet your vision as you reopen your eyes.

"I got a little carried away. You just smell so good, though," you giggle softly, pressing a sudden kiss to the end of his jaw.

You watch as his Adam's apple bobs up and down from a sudden swallow, his throat feeling a bit dry. Zayne clears his throat a bit, adjusting himself as you finally step down from his lap. He swiftly puts the paper on his desk atop one of the neat piles, putting the pen away as well.

Getting up from his chair and pushing it in carefully, he turns back to you with a relieved sigh as the work day finally comes to a close.

"Let's go," he says, shaking off his white coat and hanging it up. "You can continue your little smelling inspection when we get back home."

You happily take his hand and step out his office, waving goodbye to the familiar staff at Akso Hospital. Few have noticed the small tent forming on Dr. Zayne's pants, choosing not to call it out as he left hand in hand with you.

He never noticed just how much you enjoyed what he thought was an unpleasant smell. Perhaps now he finally enjoys smelling like a surgeon.

ahhh... my first post on tumblr (≧□≦)im a little shy, but at the same time im sure not many (if any) people will see this hehe

hope u enjoyed reading this little fic i wrote after smelling some alcohol lol.

[gattapotatta]

The new Zayne memory in a nutshell

Sick Zayne throughout the day

Still sick Zayne in the middle of the night despite showing no signs of recovery

Sick Zayne is so adorable