#li shen fluff

[beneathashadytree]

ENAMORED - ZAYNE LI X READER

Warnings : chubby!reader, slightly suggestive at the start, making out, body image issues & insecurities, autistic!Zayne, mentions of sex, reader is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns!

Genre : hurt/comfort for the soul 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

Word count : 1.6K words

Additional notes : This was commissioned by one of my lovely mutuals, and I’m so thankful for the opportunity to discuss self-love and portray more diverse body types. As someone who’s on the heavier side, I’d always struggled with my own perception of my attractiveness, often stopping myself before anything because I worried too much what my partner would think. So writing this was pretty therapeutic🥹💗

Commissions are open here!

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Masterlist

It was impossible for her to think straight when Zayne’s all-consuming presence permeated all her senses. Not when she could smell his cologne and body wash all over her. Not when his hazy eyes, half-closed with pleasure as they met hers, drove her mad. Not when every single low sigh and impassioned whisper of her name was akin to casting a spell on her. And especially not when his soft lips were on hers, swallowing her every moan and tasting like sugar and every sweet thing she could’ve ever imagined, and yet something so distinctly him.

He was everywhere, his weight on top of her both reassuring and stimulating to the point of bringing her nerves to the fraught edge. Every inch of him that brushed up against her barely-clothed self warmed her skin and deepened her flush, and she was impossibly aware of how his calloused palms stroked her hip and her jaw like he couldn’t bear to be parted from her. And he kissed her like her absence was sin; like breaking apart for air would rob him of his own senses.

She’d never seen him so wound up and yet so molten. It was hard to believe that this was Zayne, the same man she’d once thought to be frigid. Now, when he was chasing her lips then nuzzling into her neck to sharply inhale with a rattling breath—as if she were his undoing—she knew that he was a raging inferno, and that she’d be the only one to see him like this, so rattled by how much he needed her.

“Zayne, closer,” she mumbled into his ear, her eyes hot with emotion. She craved him just as much, her hand reaching behind him to tug at the back of his shirt, pushing him closer and closer against her, crying out loud as his teeth grazed against her pulse point in her neck. Zayne’s tongue was quick to soothe that ache, though she wondered if he knew just how much he kindled the one between her thighs. Merely kissing was never enough; could never be enough when she desired him to the depths of her.

He pulled back momentarily to squeeze her hips, hungrily kissing her again and caressing his way back up her sides, deft fingers toying with the strap of her nightgown. She couldn’t hold back her shiver, his ghost of a touch more enticing than anything ever was. His tongue, twining with hers, spelled out her name, and she twirled the soft strands of hair at the back of his neck in an attempt to ground herself.

Then his finger had swiftly pulled the thin silk strap down to her arm, her heaving breasts beginning to spill out of the flimsy fabric, and with the slight chilliness of air on every inch of skin exposed, she quickly sobered up and stilled in place, her joints almost instantly locking. Zayne—sweet, observant Zayne who’d always had his eyes on her and knew her like he knew himself—frowned a little and broke their halted kiss, a look of concern washing over his face.

“Everything alright?” His voice was rougher than usual, and his face was a burning red she’d never get accustomed to, but the worry he’d always had for her was still there.

Stiffening at his question, she angled herself away from his gaze. After all, how does one explain that the whole idea of sex was still daunting? How do you voice something like that, without causing your partner to misunderstand it as rejection of their advances—or worse, a lack of attraction?

Because gods, did she find him otherworldly beautiful. How could she not, when she had eyes and a heart to see him with? How could she not, when he spoke her name like a prayer, and worshiped her at the altar like a goddess divine? How could she not, when his muscles rippled even beneath layers of clothing, and his eyes burned like they only ever saw her?

But then how could she explain how foreign the concept of sex was to her, not out of a lack of wanting—because she knew he was the one thing she’d ever wanted to fully claim, possess even with a maddening love—but out of a deeply-ingrained fear?

“Darling,” he called out to her in a voice ever-so-soft, and only then did she notice that she’d completely frozen up, and that he’d pulled back from on top of her, just one hand carefully brushing at her cheek as he regarded her with all the care in the world. “Is something wrong?” Pausing in his ministrations, a hesitant look made its way on his face. “Have I done something?”

Struggling to find her voice, she cleared her throat once, then twice. “No, no. Not you, honestly. Just… me. Something in my head, ‘s all.”

Again that uncertainty flashed in those hazel eyes, and he simply said, “If you don’t want this—”

“I do,” she breathed out, her voice a little reedier now. She didn’t want him to deny her love for him, the sheer need she’d always carried like a precious flame in her heart. Closing her eyes for a few seconds, she tried to silence the scattered noises in her head. “Stupid self-consciousness. That’s all.”

Zayne’s expression shifted to one of genuine confusion. “Of what? I’m not exactly experienced either, given that you’re the only person I’ve ever been with, or wanted, for that matter. I don’t expect things to be perfect.”

“Not that,” she whispered, discomfort tingling underneath her skin at the prospect of unpacking what she’d stowed away in a corner of her mind, hoping to will it away as time went on. “Just about my body, my appearance… things like that.”

Something akin to incredulity made Zayne’s eyes grow wide for a few seconds, as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing; couldn’t imagine that she could have thoughts like these. His expression was then schooled to its placid calmness as he cupped her jaw. “I told you that I think you’re the most beautiful person in every room. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

She chuckled weakly, her eyes refusing to meet his. If they did, she knew she’d lose all the courage she’d barely mustered in the first place. “It’s one thing to see me dressed up, another to see my stomach rolls and big thighs in person and still find me attractive.”

Zayne simply shook his head, and a lump formed in her throat at the affectionate look in his eyes and the slight upwards quirk of his kiss-swollen lips. “All the more to love, but no less beautiful.” Perhaps he was doing it subconsciously, but the way his thumb drifted to gently caress underneath her breasts—like even the folds and creases underneath the silk there were worthy of his reverence—made her feel so seen, wholeheartedly.

“Does it,” she faltered, then went on as she glanced at his hands tracing her curves with all the fondness in the world, her own resting on his chest over his racing heart, “Does it really not matter to you?”

“If it doesn’t matter, then I’m not acknowledging it in the first place.” Zayne huffed out a chuckle, pressing lazy, open-mouthed kisses to the exposed top of her breasts, humming into her skin and sending her brain into a frenzy with every searing kiss and every languid stroke of his palm against her tummy. “Which couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m too aware of your body. Just… for an entirely different reason.” His voice was barely more than muttering now, intense eyes like green aventurine seeing her right to her core that yearned for him. “Being that it makes me want you more, all the time. Does that upset you?”

Something ignited at his words, something long dormant that she’d almost given up on, and she rushed to shake her head. She couldn’t put a finger on what it was that made her heart swell to twice its size, nor could she name that feeling of being so utterly overwhelmed with the unconditional love she’d dreamed of at night, seeing his eyes and his precious smile all for her when she closed her eyes.

Whatever it was, Zayne read it in her vulnerable expression and her pliant softness in his hands. Humming contentedly, he pushed himself back up to press fleeting, impossibly tender kisses to her eyelids, thumbs swiping at the tears dotting her lash-line and leaving feather-light kisses there too. “Then I’ll prove it to you some other day. For now, let’s sleep.”

For a moment, her eyes flitted downwards, and she worriedly began to protest. “But Zayne, you’re still—!”

A chaste peck to her lips silenced her, and he shook his head before settling into the mattress beside her, his voice carrying the weight of an unspoken vow. “We’ve got the rest of our lives for that.” Zayne’s fingers found her brows, brushing them back to ease the frown off her face, and somehow—like his touch was magic ensnaring her—it melted away into what she knew was a lovesick expression. Her heart was hammering away in her ribcage, half disbelieving of how he’d managed to make her love him even more. “I won’t want you any less in eight hours, when I can indulge in you for a longer time.”

And though the night had ended with a layer of clothing between them, with significantly less escalation than she’d predicted as they curled into each other’s warmth under the sheets and their breaths evened out, this was perhaps the most intimate she’d ever been with another person. Slipping into a deep slumber, her fingers curling into his scarred palm, she felt beyond grateful for the idea that of all people, it was with Zayne she’d fallen hopelessly in love with.

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[erensfeed]

THE PARALLELS ARE INSANE.

I LOVE ME SOME OF WHATEVER THIS IS/WHATEVER CALEB AND ZAYNE ARE (GONNA BE) TO EACH OTHER

[espace--positif]

Mornings With Him

A collection of husband!Zayne x F!Reader domestic headcanons [Love and Deepspace]

Summary: Mornings are always better shared. Especially with the love of your life. A collection of fluffy snapshots of mornings spent with husband!Zayne. Pairing: Zayne x F!Reader WC: ~2.1K Content tags: Established relationship, Domestic fluff, Fluff, Romance, Mild suggestiveness Read on AO3 // My Masterlist

Ever since you married the love of your life and began living together, your mornings have changed for the better. But things haven’t always been so smooth, on account of a few differences in your lifestyle that made themselves glaringly obvious early on.

For one, Zayne is a morning person, and you’re regrettably not. Not to the extent that he is, anyway. You don’t ever clash on this, but it’s caused some… unforeseen difficulties in the past, especially for your husband.

He’s always been the type of person to be ready a full hour before he has to leave, whereas you’re more likely to be rushing out the door exactly on the dot, if not later. On top of that, he’s also a morning runner. So when he would try to quietly sneak out of bed to begin his rigorous routine every morning and you’d sleepily cling to him, coaxing him back to the warmth of your shared bed with an almost 100% success rate, to the point where he started regularly missing his morning runs, he figured something had to change.

His solution? He’d find a way for the two of you to spend your mornings together, outside of bed.

Thus, he carefully crafts a shared routine for the both of you, easing you into his way of life while easing himself out of the constancy of his own diligence, little by little.

One early morning, as Zayne woefully pulls himself away from your iron grip, he decides to venture towards the kitchen on a mission. He brews two large cups of coffee and returns to your shared bedroom, where he finds you sprawled on his side of the bed, trying to soak up any residual warmth. You lift your gaze, meeting his with sleepy eyes, and he instantly recognizes the look on your face - his betrayal will not be forgiven nor forgotten, especially this early in the morning when you’re less than agreeable on most things. Well, on all things, really.

He sits at the edge of the bed and silently offers a cup — your favorite cup — and you glare for a while before sitting up and grabbing it. It warms your hands, and you start to think about forgiving him for abandoning his duties as your personal heater.

Over the next week, Zayne gradually adds more layers to your shared routine, carving out a space for you in his little tasks. You’ve become less and less insistent on dragging him back to bed by force, knowing that you’ll be rewarded with a delicious coffee delivered straight to you within a few minutes of his departure. Once his peace offering is well received, he wraps your robe around you and takes you by the hand, leading you to sit by the patio window to enjoy your coffee - in the warmer months, you often sit on the porch — and only then does he take the opportunity to complete his run.

There, while listening to birdsong and being caressed by the gentle breeze, you’re thankful for the brief moment of tranquil solitude. Besides, you know that your husband will be back like clockwork, right as you’ve had your last sip. The corners of your lips inevitably tug upwards every time you see him rounding the bend, jogging back to you. It’s as if you’re seeing him for the first time all over again. You stand to meet him halfway through your yard, and he gently kisses your forehead. You wrap your arms around his warm chest, and his embrace feels as comforting as it has ever felt.

You wash your face and brush your teeth while he showers, and vice versa, both of you relishing in the proximity and safety of each others’ presence even while doing something as mundane as getting ready. While you complete the final touches of your routine in the mirror, Zayne works on a simple breakfast. You’ve never been a breakfast person, but after much insistence and lecturing about how it’s the most important meal of the day, you end up caving, graciously accepting anything he offers you in the morning. His prowess at cooking helps too, of course.

Once you’re ready, you sit across from each other at the dining table, where a helping of sometimes egg and toast, sometimes waffles, sometimes fancy greek yogurt, sits waiting for you. There’s often no need for very many words as you share breakfast together. Both of you sit in the solace of each other’s company for a while, comfortable silence occasionally truncated by a comment of yours on how good the food is, or a comment of his on the weather forecast. Eventually, your renewed energy causes conversation to naturally take off, and you end up rambling about mundanities while he listens attentively, as though it’s the most riveting thing in the world.

By the time you’re set to leave, your morning has already brightened, your smile shining brighter than the sun as you offer to tighten your husband’s tie, a ritual he never refuses even though his tie is already in perfect condition. He returns your beaming smile, and finds that his morning has brightened too, more than he ever could have imagined. For a moment, Zayne blissfully contemplates how he would gladly upend his entire mornings, afternoons, evenings, and nights, all at once, in exchange for this view.

Not all mornings are so predictable. In fact, some morning are simply a continuation of a long, long night…

Zayne almost thinks his eyes are deceiving him when he sees your hunched-over form lit up by dancing blue light from the TV screen. When he awoke at four in the morning to an empty and cold bed, he assumed that you fell asleep in front of the lawyer drama you were so captivated with, but he didn’t imagine that you’d still be watching.

He gingerly comes down the steps, socks muffling his movement, and you’re so caught up in your show that you don’t hear him coming. He stands there, amused and baffled all at once, taking in the sight of you. Here sits his wife, normally a pinnacle of responsibility, huddled in a blanket with nothing but her face poking out, eyes bleary with tiredness, but burning with fervent focus at whatever ridiculous plotline is surely unfolding before her. He lets out an incredulous chuckle. The TV volume is almost too low to hear and you’re busy squinting at the subtitles; you’re considerate even in your most unreasonable moments.

“Honey,” he says, breaking the almost-silence.

You slowly turn to face him, a serious expression etched on your face.

“I think Jacob’s gonna cheat… with Anna-Maria,” you say gravely, as if the world hangs in balance.

He makes a mental note never to leave you to your own devices in front of these shows, even if you swear up and down you’ll only watch one more episode before you join him in bed. But for now, he figures you’ll need proper closure on whether Jacob truly plans to cheat on his wife with his legal assistant, and though he’s loath to admit, he’s curious himself, as Jacob always struck him as an honest enough man.

So he plops down next to you, reserving his lecture on your late-night escapade for another time. You unfurl yourself from your blanket-cocoon, wrap the blanket around you both, and snuggle up against him, thankful for the added warmth on this chilly winter morning.

You watch two and a half more episodes together, in which the Jacob storyline wraps up neatly with a bow on top - he was majorly guilty, of course. Zayne turns the TV off when all is said and done, and you sit in silence, processing the somewhat unsatisfying end to the plotline.

“Don’t you think he got off too easy?” you look up with half-lidded eyes and ask Zayne with genuine curiosity. At this point, the show has become entirely too real in your sleepy mind, and you seem to suddenly have a big problems with the gaps in realism. “His wife immediately went to ‘let’s try couples therapy’ and not ‘you’re an asshole and I’m divorcing you.’ She even put some of the blame on herself!”

Zayne can’t help but smile at how serious yet unserious you look right now - it’s frankly adorable.

“Well, Jacob seems to have something called plot armor, so that helped to lessen his sentence.”

You chortle at the clever wordplay, lightly tapping your husband on the chest. Lazily reaching over to pick up your phone, you check the time and let out a groan.

“Oh no. It’s almost six.”

“It sure is,” Zayne replies with a resigned smile.

“And now I’ve kept you up too,” you whine. “Ugh, I’m sorry. We should go get ready.”

But just as you’re about to drag yourself away from him, Zayne pulls you back into his chest.

“Call in.” It’s more of a gentle command than a suggestion.

You contemplate his words for a while, and he hopes that the warm comfort he feels right now, your body against snugly glued to his, will entice you to stay right where you are as much as it’s enticing him.

“I do have a lot of sick days saved up…” you ponder out loud. “Okay, fine, but under one condition.”

Zayne tilts his head at you inquisitively. Conditional capitulation being one of your specialties, he presumes you’re going to drag him through another one of these dramas that you enjoy so much, and that he’s grown to enjoy as well since meeting you (though he would never admit it).

“You call in too,” you say with a mischievous smile. “I stole two whole hours of your beauty sleep, and a certain someone once told me that any less than 8 hours is unhealthy. So let’s just stay right here and nap all day.”

Zayne leans over and plants a gentle kiss on your lips. You have a knack for saying exactly what he wants to hear — yet another one of your specialties.

“Deal.”

Even when you’re on vacation, hundreds of miles away from any and all possible responsibilities, Zayne doesn’t seem to have an off button. He’s up at seven thirty in the morning, and despite your countless nagging about how that’s too early, he’ll insist that it’s far later than his usual, and that it’s perfectly reasonable.

He’s seemingly impervious to jet lag - he’ll tell you all about how good sleep hygiene and optimal nap times contribute to mitigate its effects, though you’re convinced your husband must have some kind of genetic or occupational advantage over you.

Your mornings together begin almost two generous hours after he’s begun his own routine. His 6AM runs are replaced with what he calls a leisurely maintenance routine at the hotel gym. Then, he comes back upstairs to quietly shower off while you’re still dozing, but not before scouting the hotel buffet. This is a very crucial part of his plan for the two of you.

Zayne is thoughtful enough to let you sleep in on vacation, completing the rest of his morning routine as silently as possible, knowing how much you both need the time off. However, once his shower is completed, your time is up. By 9AM, the curtains are flying open, room service is already on the way with coffee, and he’s crawling into the bed you’ve now appropriated as your own, gently but firmly coaxing you awake as you try to cover your eyes in vain. You settle for gluing yourself to his body and using him as a makeshift shield against the bright sun filtering through the window.

“Mmh… ‘s too early,” you mumble into his chest. He smells of hotel soap, and hotel soap has never smelled so good.

“It’s nine in the morning, dear. You’ll stay jet lagged the whole time if we don’t fix that schedule of yours.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah - you’ve heard it all before. But staying right there, on soft plush covers, cuddling with your husband in the morning sun sounds like an awfully good deal in exchange for a little bit of jet lag.

“And the buffet closes at 10:30.”

He never tires of the way your entire body perks up at the magic word. You look up at him, blinking remnants of sleep away, and repeat his words, as if they’re too good to be true.

“Buffet?”

“That’s right.”

“What’s the pastry situation?”

Your suddenly stern face and steadfast determination sends a low rumble of laughter through his chest.

“Full spread. Salty and savoury. Heated on demand.”

You gulp.

“And eggs?”

“However you want them. Unlimited toppings and fillings.”

You practically shove him off and commando-roll out of the queen bed, scurrying around the room to start getting ready. Normally your not-so-gracious dismount from your impromptu cuddle session would’ve earned you a cheeky comment, but as he watches you discard your robe on the bathroom floor, then saunter over to your open luggage to find your “buffet-primed clothes”, as you like to call them, your bare curves basking in the sunlight, he finds that he doesn’t mind your enthusiasm at all.

Thank you for reading! I’ve been thinking about domestic Zayne nonstop so of course I had to write about it. He’s so husband-material coded it’s not even funny. I might write something like this again in the future if I think of more scenarios! 💜

[lemonlover1110]

𝐎𝐝𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

Zayne

Pairing: Zayne x f!Reader

Summary: Zayne wants to fulfill your odd request.

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“I want a baby.” Is a request that makes Zayne’s eyebrows perk up. An odd request coming from you. To him, it feels out of nowhere since he’s never noticed you take interest in kids. 

Zayne is not the type of man to miss any details about you, so this is coming out of nowhere. He’s been caught up in the hospital lately, so perhaps something happened the past few days. It’s still a very big decision, one that he wants you to ponder on.

It’s a very big decision that he wants you to reflect on, after all, bringing a child into the world is no small feat. He doesn’t want you to change your mind once it’s too late… Perhaps that’s what he should’ve considered before letting you under him. He should’ve opened his mouth before letting you get too close. A simple look, one soft touch– That’s all he needs to do anything you want him to.

“It’s so fucking good!” You’re practically yelling as he thrusts in and out of you. Your back is on the bed, legs on his shoulders as he relentlessly fucks your cunt.

You’re stuffed with his cum, but Zayne needs to continue fucking you. He’s looking down at the way your pussy wraps around him, taking every inch like a good girl.

“You feel so good, baby.” He moans, holding on to your hips for support. He’s noticed that he can fuck you so deep in this position, and it’s easily become one of his favorites. He rarely curses, but he can’t help but mutter out a few curses from how good he feels around your cunt, “Fuck…”

Your hands grip the bed sheets, eyes rolling to the back of your head as pleasure runs through your body. You’ve always had great sexual chemistry with your husband, but the moment you asked for a baby something changed. It flipped a switch that you absolutely adore. He’s fucking you with a purpose.

“You’re gonna look so perfect carrying my baby.” Zayne mutters as one hand goes down to play with your clit. You loudly moan his name over and over again as he makes a mess out of you. “Please make me a daddy, baby. Please, please, please.”

You’ve never heard Zayne so needy before. The idea of getting you pregnant is clearly turning him on. The neighbors can surely hear how loud you’re being, but shame walked out of the door after the first round.

“Zayne–” You begin to squeeze around him as pleasure consumes you. The senseless talk that leaves his lips only works you up more. 

“Need to knock you up. You’re going to look so beautiful.” He’s groaning. He’s shutting his eyes, unable to bear the feeling. It’s too much for him to handle, you just feel so nice and tight around him, “Need to see you pregnant with my baby.”

Your back is arching as your climax approaches. Zayne is hitting all the right spots, which is driving you wild. He’s moaning your name over and over again.

Your breath gets caught up in your chest as your orgasm washes over you. His thrusts begin to get sloppy, knowing that he’s not going to last much longer.

“Fuck, I’m gonna knock you up.” He mutters. He throws his head back, his thrusts slowing down as he releases his seed inside you. He’s pumping you full of his cum, and your cunt milks him for every drop of it. Because it is a lot. Zayne comes so much inside of you.

It’s the third time in the night. Zayne pulls out of you, and lays down beside you. His fingers are pushing his cum back inside of you. You’re both panting, catching your breaths.

He’s already thinking about fucking you again, but before anything else he has the audacity to ask,

“Are you sure you want a baby?”

You chuckle.

“I’m sure I’m already pregnant.”

[hitoshitoshi]

Hair Washing [Husband!Zayne x GenderNeutral!Reader]

Summary: You take care of Zayne and he allows it for once in his life.

Tags: Established Relationship, Married life, Hair Washing, Self Degradation, Hurt/Comfort, Self Indulgent, Workaholic and Stubborn Zayne, Domestic fluff, Non-sexual Intimacy, Romance.

Zayne drove his Audi into the garage, the purr of the engine fading to silence as he cut the ignition. As the garage door descended, shutting out the world where it was just him in his car — his forehead resting against the steering wheel, eyes closed, the weight of a 16-hour shift was hitting him like a fire being snuffed out by a lid. 

'Pull yourself together,' Zayne chided internally, straightening up with a soft inaudible groan. 

Flipping down the sun visor mirror, Zayne assessed his reflection. Dark circles lurked beneath his hazel eyes, his hair was slightly disheveled, and his skin lost a bit of its glow. Zayne grabbed a comb and meticulously smoothed out his hair into place. 

'You have no right to burden others with your childish grievances,' Zayne reminded himself, a mantra born of years of self-imposed stoicism. Zayne would not allow himself to ever burden you with such a pitiful thing such as tiredness or to ever make you worry as long as he lived. 

Satisfied with his appearance, Zayne exited the car, his movements deliberately measured to hide his bone-deep fatigue that threatened to consume him. As he approached the house, he took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. The mask, Dr. Zayne — the Cardiac Surgeon, slid off as he was now Zayne, your husband. He opened the door, stepping into the warmth of your shared home. 

Zayne called out to you, "I'm home," his voice was steady and neutral, betraying none of the relief he felt at finally being home to where you were, in the house you two had lived in and cherished.

The sounds of rapid footsteps echoed through the house, and Zayne felt a flutter of warmth in his chest. You appeared, eyes bright with joy and relief that your beloved husband came home from work. For a moment, Zayne allowed a soft smile to tug at the corner of his lips as he drank in the sight of his partner. 

Your heart raced at the sight of Zayne, a mix of excitement and concern washed over you. You rushed forward, arms outreached for a hug, but you stopped mid-motion as you took in Zayne's appearance. Despite Zayne's immaculate exterior, you knew Zayne more than anyone else to know that he was tired —  the slight degree of a slump in Zayne's shoulders, the barely perceptible tightness around Zayne's eyes, the shadows under Zayne's eyes being a shade too dark. Your heart clenched, seeing the man you loved with your entire soul, pushing himself so hard. 

"Zayne, you look tired," You said softly as you reached out to touch Zayne's arm. Your fingers trembled slightly, torn between the desire to pull him close and the fear of overstepping even if you two were already married. "Let me take care of you tonight."

Zayne felt a surge of conflicting emotions at your words —  gratitude warring with his ingrained need for self-reliance. It was always Zayne treating and spoiling you, and not the other way around. Even the times when you tried to spoil him back, Zayne would always find a way to turn it around so that it was back to him spoiling you. His eyebrow arched slightly, his expression shifting to one of mild amusement to hide the vulnerability he felt.

"I'm fine," Zayne replied, his tone leaving  no room for argument, even as an iota of him longed to give in, "It was just another day at the hospital." Zayne knew that he couldn't convince you since you were as stubborn as him, but it couldn't hurt to try.

 Your eyes narrowed, unconvinced. You could see the weariness Zayne was trying so hard to hide, and it made your chest tighten with worry. You insisted, "You've been gone for over 16 hours and this was the 3rd time this week back to back that you've had these long shifts. You need to rest. Let me help you rest." 

"I assure you, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I've had longer shifts that were more troubling throughout the years," Zayne countered, a hint of stubbornness creeping into his voice. Even as he spoke, he felt his resolve wavering under your gaze —  he hated concerning you. He hated making you feel this way —  he hated himself for making you feel this way. 

You stepped closer, your hand was gentle but insistent on Zayne's arm. You could feel the tension in his muscles and the slight tremor of exhaustion. "Please, Zayne," you pleaded, "Let me do this for you once. You always take care of me, let me take care of you sometimes. Even if it's on a blue moon, let me take care of you once." 

Zayne's eyes shifted away as he let out a sigh, the rigid set of his shoulders relaxed a bit. A wave of tenderness washed over him, mingled with gratitude as he reluctantly gave in. "Fine," Zayne conceded, his tone was of his usual deadpan but it was tinged with affection. "If it will put your mind at ease." 

Your face broke into a warm smile, relief and love shining in your eyes. You grabbed Zayne’s hand as you led Zayne towards the bathroom. Zayne allowed himself to lean slightly into your touch. For once, Zayne allowed himself to accept the care he so often denied himself. 

You filled the bathtub with hot water, the sound of rushing liquid filling the quiet room. You added a generous amount of bubble bath, watching as frothy suds formed on the surface. The scent of rose oil wafted through the air as you added a few drops of it to the water. Your heart raced in anticipation and nervousness, hoping that you’d be able to take away Zayne’s stress. 

Soft light from carefully placed candles flickered across the walls as you dimmed the overhead lights. You turned to Zayne who stood in the doorway — a hint of vulnerability in his usually stoic expression. 

“Come,” You said softly, extending your hand out towards him. Zayne took your hand, allowing himself to be led to the bathtub. He raised your hand up to his lips as he gave your knuckles a soft kiss as a thank you. Zayne didn’t know the last time someone had put effort into him that wasn’t you — at least, someone who didn’t have any outside intentions of being nice to him. Zayne was forever thankful that he had such a kind spouse in his life, that out of all the lives he had lived, that he was able to be with you in this one.

As Zayne settled into the warm water, a soft sigh escaped his lips. The tension he’d been carrying began to melt away, and he closed his eyes to savor the sensation. Your heart swelled with affection at the sight of Zayne finally relaxing.

With gentle movements, you began to soak Zayne’s hair with warm water. Your fingers combed through the dark strands, careful not to tug or cause discomfort. Zayne’s breathing deepened slightly, the rhythmic motion lulled him into a state of calm he only experienced with and around you. 

You reached for the shampoo, squeezing a small amount into your palm. The fresh, clean scent filled the air as you began to work it into Zayne’s scalp. Starting at the temples, you used your fingertips to massage in small, circular motions, applying gentle pressure to stimulate blood flow and to clean all of Zayne’s hair and his head. As your fingers worked their way to the base of Zayne’s skull, you could feel the tension that Zayne’s been holding start to loosen. Zayne let out a low hum of appreciation —  the sound sending a small flutter though your chest. God, you loved your husband so much. You worked the shampoo through the rest of Zayne’s hair.

Once Zayne’s hair was thoroughly lathered, you began to rinse it clean. You used a small cup to pour warm water over his head —  your other hand acted as a shield to prevent shampoo from running into his eyes. Zayne’s thoughts drifted, the simple act of being cared for stirred emotions that he usually kept tightly controlled.

Next, You reached for the conditioner, applying a generous amount through Zayne’s hair —  focusing on the ends which tended to be drier. You began to massage Zayne’s scalp once more.You used your thumbs as you applied pressure to the occipital ridge at the base of Zayne’s skull. You then moved to the crown, using your fingertips to make small circular motions. You paid special attention to Zayne’s temples as you used gentle sweeping motions with your thumbs to ease away the day’s stress.

As your fingers worked their magic, Zayne felt himself surrendering to the care being lavished upon him as his eyes fluttered closed once more, his entire body relaxing in the hot water. A surge of protectiveness and tenderness surged through you as you noticed the change in Zayne’s demeanor. You bent your head down as you placed a soft kiss on your husband’s lips who reciprocated the kiss with even more gentleness in his movements.

“Thank you,” Zayne murmured against your lips— his voice was low and thick with emotion. The simple phrase carried the weight of all the gratitude and affection he struggled to express aloud.

You continued massaging Zayne’s scalp as you replied to him softly, “Always.”

The rhythmic pitter-patter of water being poured filled the air as you rinsed out Zayne’s hair; steam curled lazily around them, carrying the fading scent of the conditioner. Zayne’s breathing slowed as the last of the conditioner washed away. Your hand found Zayne’s elbow, steadying him as he rose. The sudden change in position sent a momentary rush to Zayne’s head, his usual grace faltering. Your eyes met Zayne’s briefly in the foggy mirror as you reached for the robe hanging nearby; the dark purple fabric rich against the bathroom’s pale tiles. As you helped Zayne slip on the robe, the soft material settled against his skin, still warm and slightly damp. The sound of footsteps resonated through the house as you both made your way to the bedroom. The air was cooler, raising goosebumps on Zayne’s exposed skin. He sank down onto the bed’s edge; the mattress dipped slightly under his weight. You moved behind him with a towel in hand. The first touch of terrycloth against Zayne’s nape sent a shiver down his spine — bare perceptible but there. You towel dried Zayne’s hair as his eyelids grew heavy; his usual sharp focus softened around the edges.  You reached over to the nightstand where you grabbed the comb, its teeth scraped gently against Zayne’s scalp, with each pass detangling your husband’s hair — detangling all of the stress in Zayne’s mind who only focused on you and your touch. A clock ticked softly somewhere as the lamp on the other side of the bedroom casted a warm glow that softened the lines of their faces, illuminating your faces and your love. As you worked, Zayne found his gaze drawn to your reflection in the dresser mirror. He watched the play of emotions across your face: concentration in the slight furrow of your brows with care in the gentle set of your mouth. Something stirred in Zayne’s chest — an emotion he had sought after for so long that he would fight with his entire soul to keep.

“I love you.”

“I love you most”.

It was more than just a hair wash to both you and Zayne; it was an act of love, trust, and vulnerability that would deepen your bond in ways words could never express. 

A/N: I love Zayne. I really really really love Zayne as you can tell. Have I mentioned that I love Zayne? Because I love Zayne. I have Zayne smut in drafts thats halfway written :3

Masterlist | TWITTER

[mephisto-reporting]

I Love You: Zayne Edition

Premise:

Trope: Pure fluff

Pairing:Reader x Xavier

Note: Reader and the men are NOT in a relationship. but there is implied mutual attraction. Let me know if you want to be a part of my taglist.

Sylus Edition | Rafayel Edition | Xavier Edition | Zayne Edition | Caleb Edition

The laughter of old friends lingered in the air like a melody, soft and bittersweet. The dinner had been perfect—good food, even better company, and the warmth of shared memories. Sitting at the long table, surrounded by people who had been a part of your life since childhood, you had caught Zayne’s gaze more than once. It wasn’t intentional, at least, not at first.

He looked effortlessly composed, as always. His sharp jawline and the faintest crease of a smirk tugging at his lips made him seem untouchable. Throughout the night, you’d caught his subtle glances—the way his eyes crinkled slightly when you laughed, the careful way he leaned over to refill your water glass before you even noticed it was empty. And then there were the small, almost imperceptible brushes of his hand against yours whenever you passed the breadbasket or reached for your drink at the same time. Each touch was a reminder of the unspoken tension between you.

The night air carried the faint hum of the city, punctuated by the distant honk of a horn and the occasional ripple of laughter from late-night strollers. The dinner had been wonderful, filled with shared stories and easy laughter with childhood friends. But now, the aftermath of your ill-chosen heels was a different story entirely.

You felt every uneven crack in the pavement as if it were a personal affront, the sharp, biting ache radiating from the balls of your feet. Still, you pushed forward, keeping your chin high despite the way your steps faltered. No way were you going to let Zayne have the satisfaction of saying, I told you so. His calm, knowing voice from earlier in the evening echoed mockingly in your head. “Those shoes are impractical. You’ll regret it.”

He had been right, of course, but you weren’t about to admit it. Not now. Not when he walked beside you, his steps steady and effortless, his expression composed as ever.

"You’re doing alright?" Zayne's voice cut through your thoughts, calm and steady, like he was used to offering medical assessments, even when you weren’t exactly asking. His eyes flickered down to your feet, then back up to your face.

"Yeah, totally," you lied through clenched teeth, trying not to let the discomfort show.

He didn’t buy it. His brow furrowed slightly, and the corner of his mouth tugged into a faint, knowing smirk. “You’re limping..." he said matter-of-factly.

“I’m not!!!” you lied, trying to straighten your posture. “Just… taking my time.”

But Zayne was nothing if not observant. His sharp, dark eyes flicked toward you, catching the subtle winces you tried to mask. Without a word, he stopped in his tracks, his hand lightly brushing your elbow to halt your stride.

“Sit.” he instructed, his tone firm but not unkind, as he gestured to a nearby bench.

“Zayne, it’s fine—”

“Sit.” he repeated, cutting through your protest with that no-nonsense authority he wielded so effortlessly. There was no point in arguing.

Reluctantly, you lowered yourself onto the bench, feeling both relief and frustration as the pressure eased from your aching feet. Before you could say another word, Zayne crouched before you, his hands already reaching for your footwear.

“Zayne, what are you—”

“Be still!" he said, his voice soft but commanding as he slipped one heel off, then the other, with meticulous care. His touch was warm against your skin, his fingers deft and steady as they began to knead the tender arches of your feet.

A low groan escaped you before you could stop it, and Zayne’s lips quirked into a small, knowing smile. “Your posture’s terrible in shoes like these,” he remarked clinically, his thumbs pressing into a particularly sore spot with just the right amount of pressure. “They force your spine into unnatural alignment and strain the muscles in your legs. Long-term use could cause chronic pain.”

You grumbled, looking down at him, feeling the tinge of frustration mix with the discomfort. "I know, I know," you muttered, "but they look so good, Zayne. They make me feel pretty."

His eyes softened, his usual stoic expression shifting into something more vulnerable, more genuine. He looked up at you, and his lips quirked into a small, fond smile. "It’s not the shoes that make you pretty," he said softly, his voice warm and sincere. "It’s your charm. Your beauty. Your warmth. It’s all you."

The sincerity in his tone made your chest tighten, and for a moment, you forgot about the ache in your feet altogether. The way Zayne looked at you, his gaze full of adoration, made your chest ache in a good way. He wasn’t the type to express such things openly, but in this moment, you knew he meant it with every fiber of his being.

Before you could say anything in response, Zayne stood, shrugging off his own shoes with a small shake of his head. "Here," he said, holding them out to you, "you can wear these for now."

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin tugging at your lips as you looked at the shoes, which were far too big for you. "You want me to wear those?" you asked, the idea almost comical.

Zayne raised an eyebrow, unamused. "Either that," he said, with an almost imperceptible smirk, "or I carry you the rest of the way."

You stared at him, incredulous. "You’re serious, aren’t you?"

He gave a nod, his gaze unwavering, and then the smirk appeared again—soft, amused, but still holding a hint of challenge. "Take your pick." he said, a playful edge in his voice, though there was no mistaking the sincerity behind it.

You sighed, unable to stop the soft laugh that escaped you, and shook your head. "Fine," you muttered, slipping your feet into his shoes, which were comically large on you but at least offered some relief. "But this better be the last time you ever say 'I told you so'."

Zayne chuckled, a deep, quiet sound that made your stomach flip, but just as you were about to speak again, something inside you caught. The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them.

"I love you, Zayne."

The words hung in the air between you, startling both of you into silence. Zayne froze, his eyes wide and startled, his usual calm demeanor completely shattered for a heartbeat. His gaze locked onto yours, as if he were trying to make sense of what you’d just said, his expression a mixture of surprise, confusion, and something that could only be described as vulnerability.

"Wait," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Did you—did you just—"

You nodded, your own heartbeat suddenly loud in your ears. You didn’t know where the words had come from, but now that they were out there, you couldn’t take them back.

Zayne blinked, then slowly, hesitantly, he leaned forward. "Say it again," he asked, his voice surprisingly soft, vulnerable.

You swallowed, feeling the weight of the moment, but you didn’t hesitate this time. "I love you, Zayne."

A slow, almost disbelieving smile spread across his face, the kind that made your heart stutter. His eyes softened further, the stoicism melting away to reveal a quiet, unguarded joy.

“I love you too,” he said, his voice steady but laced with something raw and real. He let the words hang between you for a moment before his usual dry humor crept back in. “If I’d known a foot massage would get you to say that, I’d have done it a long time ago.”

You laughed, the sound light and breathless, the tension between you dissolving into something warm and easy. He held out his hand, pulling you to your feet and steadying you as you adjusted to the unfamiliar fit of his shoes.

With your heels in one hand and his arm firmly wrapped around your waist, he led you toward the car, his grip on you unyielding. The two of you walked slowly toward the car, his steps matching yours as if to ensure you didn’t falter. His touch was steady, grounding. And for the first time, you realized that this—his presence, his calm strength, his quiet devotion—felt like home.

As you reached the car, Zayne tightened his arm around you for just a moment, his lips brushing your temple in a gesture so tender it made your heart ache. “Stay with me,” he said softly, almost to himself. “For tonight. And for longer, forever if I can help it.”

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

Sylus Edition | Rafayel Edition | Xavier Edition | Zayne Edition | Caleb Edition

Taglist: @cordidy

[sofiaswrittendelusions]

“His to break, his to save.”

synopsis: “He pushed you, Caleb made him kneel.”

Warnings: Silly little unhinged Caleb 😍

The shove is small. Almost nothing.

But to Caleb, it’s everything.

You stumble against the cold wall, your hand gripping the edge for balance as the junior officer brushes past without so much as a glance. His tone is clipped, dismissive, dripping with condescension.

“Watch it,” he snaps, like you’re the problem.

You freeze, heat rising to your cheeks, your chest tightening—not just from the lingering ache of therapy, but from sheer indignation.

Before you can recover, before you can even open your mouth, the air shifts.

You feel it before you see it—an electric weight pressing down on the room, the hum of tension thick enough to drown out every other sound.

Caleb.

He’s standing just behind the officer, his frame casting an impossibly large shadow across the corridor. His uniform is pristine, the insignia of his rank gleaming like a warning. But it’s his face—the eerie calm of it, the glint of something feral in his dark eyes—that makes your stomach twist.

The officer notices too late.

“You.” Caleb’s voice cuts through the air, sharp and cold, like the first strike of a blade.

The officer turns, blinking in confusion. “Colonel?”

“Come with me.”

The words are simple, quiet, but there’s a weight to them that silences everyone in the hallway. The other personnel scatter instinctively, avoiding Caleb’s gaze like it might burn them alive.

The officer frowns, his confidence faltering. “I don’t—”

“Now.” Caleb’s tone doesn’t rise, but it doesn’t need to. There’s something in it—a promise, dark and unrelenting—that makes the man stiffen.

He glances at you, then back at Caleb.

“What’s this about?” he asks, trying to sound casual but failing.

Caleb doesn’t answer.

Instead, he steps closer, the air growing heavier, suffocating, as though gravity itself has turned against the room. His bionic fingers flex at his side with a faint, menacing whirr.

The officer swallows hard.

“Colonel, I don’t see why—”

“Move.”

The single word is a growl, low and venomous, and it’s enough to make the man flinch.

Caleb doesn’t wait for compliance. He turns sharply, striding toward a nearby storage room without sparing you a glance. The officer hesitates, glancing around for backup, but no one dares intervene.

The door hisses shut behind them.

The air inside the storage room is oppressive.

Caleb stands with his back to the door, his presence filling the space like a storm ready to break. His eyes lock onto the junior officer, sharp and unrelenting, and the silence stretches so long it feels like the walls themselves might collapse under the weight of it.

The officer shifts uncomfortably, the tension clawing at his throat. “Colonel, I really don’t—”

“Kneel.”

The command is quiet. Soft, almost conversational.

The man blinks, confused. “What?”

Caleb tilts his head, his lips curving into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I said kneel.”

There’s no explanation. No preamble. Just the word, hanging in the air like an unspoken threat.

The officer’s confusion morphs into irritation. “Colonel, I don’t think—”

“Good,” Caleb interrupts, taking a single step forward. The floor seems to groan beneath him, the gravity in the room shifting ever so slightly. “I don’t need you to think. I need you to kneel.”

The officer scoffs, trying to mask his unease. “With all due respect, I don’t—”

The air snaps.

Suddenly, the man’s knees buckle, the invisible force slamming into him like a tidal wave. He collapses to the floor with a grunt, his hands bracing against the cold metal as he struggles against the weight pressing down on him.

“What the hell is this?!” he gasps, his voice cracking.

Caleb crouches in front of him, his smile widening into something predatory.

“This,” he murmurs, his tone dripping with mockery, “is where you belong.”

The officer’s arms shake, his breath ragged as he fights to lift himself, but the weight is too much. He’s pinned, helpless, as Caleb leans in closer.

“You shoved her.” Caleb’s voice is soft now, dangerously so. “You told her to watch it. Like she doesn’t matter. Like I wouldn’t know.”

The man stammers, his voice trembling. “I—I didn’t mean—”

“You did,” Caleb snaps, his bionic hand twitching at his side. “You meant every second of it. Now you’re going to apologize.”

“I’m sorry!” the officer chokes out, his face burning with humiliation.

Caleb’s head tilts further, his smile turning cruel.

“Louder.”

“I’m sorry!”

“Pathetic,” Caleb murmurs, his tone thick with mockery. “Do it again. This time, maybe pretend you have a spine.”

The man’s voice cracks as he repeats himself, louder, more desperate. “I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have—”

“Good boy,” Caleb purrs, standing to his full height.

The weight lifts suddenly, and the officer collapses fully, gasping for air.

Caleb doesn’t wait for him to recover. He turns toward the door, his voice cutting through the silence one last time.

“Crawl out of here,” he says flatly, not even looking back. “Before I change my mind.”

The officer doesn’t hesitate.

Caleb watches him scramble out, his grin sharp and unhinged, before stepping into the hallway where you wait, oblivious to what just happened.

He softens instantly when he sees you.

“Everything’s fine,” he murmurs, placing a gentle hand on your back as he guides you away. “No one will bother you again. I made sure of it.”

You don’t ask what he means.

And he doesn’t tell you.

[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!

[lostinlads]

Fluffy Treatment

Synopsis: Leaving for a month to travel around the world had been a breath of fresh air, but returning to your family's home is where your heart resided. Your first day back had been hectic, a grand meal with all of your parent's wealthy friends would be held to honor your return. But as you are getting ready, your family's cat butler, Zayne, has come to your side to help you. The mutual missing and longing couldn't be denied as it flowed between the both of you. He would obey his master.

Tags: zayne x femme!reader, MDNI IF YOU ARE A MINOR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED, smut, catboy!zayne, footjob, footplay, p in v, unprotected sex, master/servant play, secret relationship, aphrodisiac (catnip), no use of y/n

Words: 4.4k

an: Here is my fic of zayne's latest catboy card! this isnt completely accurate to the card just taking some inspiration from it, but i hope you enjoy either way!

ao3 | Yes, Cat Caretaker mini series | kofi

One month has come and gone - traveling the world, visiting friends, partying through the night. It honestly felt like a never-ending dream, but this morning when your driver pulled up to your family's estate, you couldn't help but feel relieved. 

One face has been plaguing your thoughts. Well, let's admit it, it's been more than just a face. 

Memories of his hands running over your naked flesh, his hot mouth on yours to silence your moans, soft ears and a bushy tail that drew goosebumps across your skin. You craved him. Dashing hazel eyes that looked at you like you were the finest meal he has ever seen, wanting to feast on you.

Those same eyes that stared at you now through the mirror in your bedroom as you tried on your dinner gown. Not hiding any shame as they sweep over every single blessed inch of your jaw dropping body. 

You stare back, eyes drawing over his wide shoulders, his broad chest, the thick arms that are pulled behind his back. 

The tension in the air between you both is almost electric, one spark could send the entire room ablaze. 

Your fingers twitch at your side, wanting to turn around and reach towards him. Pull him to you just so you can feel him under your fingertips again. Something so forbidden between the both of you yet so sweet and delicious, addictive. You had no intentions of sleeping with your family's cat butler, but the way he falls apart under your touch, breath hitching as he whimpers your name. How could you control yourself?

"How do I look?" You ask, not turning but meeting his eyes in the mirror. They flick up, pouring his heart out in them. The corners of his mouth lift, barely but just enough for you to notice.

"Breath taking as always, my lady." Heart racing in your chest, but you know he can hear it, his sensitive ears flicking to the beat like a drum. Smoothing your hands over your dress, you give yourself one final onceover, making sure every hair is put in place, your dress falling where it's supposed to and hugging what it needs to. 

Satisfied, you turn, letting your eyes run up Zayne's tall figure. He stands there unmoving as always, forced to remain stoic, to not give in. Maybe that's what drew you to him, wanting to break down his reserve and find the man deep within, or maybe it was that he is undeniably attractive. Sharp jaw matching his sharp eyes, large, sure hands, legs that go on for days. Something so magnetic drawing you to him.

"I got you something, you know." A smile playing on your painted lips, because who could honestly forget their favorite cat butler in a month without bringing him a gift in return. He cocks an eyebrow towards you.

"Oh?" Lips pulling up in that barely there smile again. "No need to come baring gifts, my lady. Just being graced by your presence once more is a gift in itself." The flush that coated your cheeks were more than enough, feelings showing without speaking words. You smile up at him, grabbing the small box from the bed and placing it in his hands. 

"It's an 'I missed you' present," Words so quiet, almost as if you were scared of getting caught. Zayne looks at you for a moment, pausing as he feels the weight in his hands, eyes searching yours. 

Slowly, Zayne pulls the lid off and sets it on your bed. You watch as his hazel eyes dilate, nostrils flaring at the scent of catnip. Taking the box from his hands, you hold the cat wand, the bell jingling softly as you move. His eyes darkening, zeroing in on it as you toss the box onto your bed. 

Though he is every bit man, he was still part feline, crumbling and growing hungry over the intoxicating scent of the drug. He doesn't indulge often in treats or toys, but something cracked in his composure every time catnip swirled in his senses. 

His ears twitch as you shake the wand, trying so hard to keep his eyes locked on yours but ultimately failing as you draw the wand up. A ragged breath releases from his lungs almost as if he was holding it. You move, reaching your arm higher towards his head and shake it again. His body shifts, zoned in on the movement and the scent of the toy. Playing like this had always been so pleasuring to you, watching as he fights off his instincts and tries to remain loyal to his orders. 

You move again, walking back, drawing him to you as you shake the toy in front of your own face. His eyes fighting to stay locked on yours but ultimately failing as he snaps them back. His large, glove clad hand reaches out, just barely missing the wand as you pull it away, higher in the air out of his reach. He straightens at once, looming over you with his massive height, brows pinched together tight in disbelief. You got him right where you wanted him, clouded his mind and drew him to you. Tossing the now useless toy to the side you straighten your back, sizing him up. 

Zayne walks towards you, eyes dark and jaw set. Footsteps so sure and precise. Times like these he looked almost intimidating, not being able to help it as you took a few steps back. 

Suddenly you trip, unstrapped heel slipping off of your stocking covered foot. You look down, the shoe laying helpless between the both of you. Sighing you walk to the wide armchair lining the wall, a few steps behind you. Crossing your legs and propping your head in your palm. Zayne walks to you, eyes softening and ears drooping to a more relaxed position.

"Do you know what this cat likes most?" He sighs out, voice hushed. 

"Catnip? Or a cat wand?" Though you knew where he was going, you wanted to play this game, this push and pull you both ended up in. His chuckle is breathy, ears twitching in delight as he looks away for just a moment. 

"Neither," Leaning forward hands caging you in, a smile playing on his lips. "He likes his owner more than anything else." Thick bushy tail swaying lazily behind him, face so close to yours you can feel the heat of his breath as it washes over your face. 

"You made my shoe come off," Eyes drawing down at the discarded shoe, ignoring his advances. 

Obeying, he kneels down, picking up your far too expensive heel, inspecting it as he holds it in his hands. You take the opportunity to reach forward, attempting to grasp his velvet like ears. But he is too fast, twitching them just out of reach, his eyes playful as he catches you in the act.

"Looks like someone hasn't forgotten about touching his ears," The low rumble of his words make your stomach flip. The slow swishes of his tail taunting you from behind him. "A cat won't fulfill all your requests." 

"Really?" You lean forward again, pinching the base of his ear softly before rubbing soothing circles in it. A sharp hiss through his teeth at the contact, making you drop your hand back down to your side. His comes up, caressing the spot, eyes soft and sad.

"It hurts..." Zayne's ears had always been sensitive, the slightest touch always drawing a quiet gasp from him. 

You look down, expectantly as you eye your shoeless foot.

"Help me put on this shoe," Lifting your leg, toes pointed towards his hand as you wait.

"All right." His large hand coming to clasp around the back of your ankle, lifting your foot up as he bends slightly. Lips placing a firm kiss through your stockings, goose bumps rising, drawing out a dull pulse between your legs. "At your service, my lady."

His fingers delicately dance up your arched sole, towards your heel before curling back around your ankle once more, catching your breath in your throat. Cheeks on fire as you watch him with such an intensity, sliding the toe of the shoe over yours, fixing the strap securely on your ankle with a smile playing on his lips. His long fingers dancing along your clothed skin. He looks up at you, a pink blush dusting over his cheeks as he lets out a chuckle. 

"Your hands..." Zayne looks down at them, letting your foot fall back to the floor. Brows drawing back together in the smallest movement. "They still smell like catnip." 

"They do?" You ask in a teasing tone, reaching your index finger forward. Running it along his bottom lip, his hand grasps yours, mouth falling open as he gasps out. Zayne pulls your hand closer, finger resting just between his lips. 

Then you feel his teeth, a small nip to your skin. Not enough to cause blood but just enough for you to let out a shocked gasp, stomach flipping in delight. You pull your hand back a few inches, making him look up at you. Hazel eyes consumed in nothing but lust from the aphrodisiac and the scent of you. Pink blush dusting over his nose. 

"Ow! You know, a good cat butler doesn't bite its owner," You scold with a scoff, eyes flicking to the side for just a moment. But then a rough, wet tongue laps at your skin. The hot stripe of saliva tingles on your skin as you stare at him, trying your hardest to not squeeze your slick thighs together, to not give in and let him know just how bad you need him inside of you.

"This is how I express my affection," Zayne says matter-of-factly, his barely there smile making a return as his tail shows his emotions behind him. 

You pull your hand from his grasp, lunging forward as you take his face in your hands. His ears quickly airplane in shock at your movements.

"Then let me express my affection," You command, shaking his head lightly to the side. "You like that?" 

A breathy moan slips from his lips as you caress his cheeks, his eyes slowly blinking in affection at you. The undeniable smile tugging at your lips as you watch him indulge, letting you warm his skin with yours finally. A deep rumbling purr emanating from his chest as he basks in your touch.

"Besides affection," Pausing, your hand still, cupping his cheek with one as the other ghosts down towards his chin. "I'm curious, do cats feel possessive towards their owners?" Voice dropping an octave, slow and sultry as you lean in and lift his chin, watching his eyes widen. 

Your cat butler smiles, wrapping his fingers around the wrist that cupped his face, clothed thumb brushing over your silky flesh. 

"Of course," Voice so sweet, a million emotions dancing behind it as he speaks. "Just like this..." He nuzzles into your awaiting hand before continuing, a heavy breath drawing in his lungs. "What this gesture means is - this is mine." Eyes meeting yours at the word 'mine'; possessive and claiming. His thick tail swishing behind faster. Zayne places a kiss to your open palm before he nuzzles back into it, the purr becoming so strong it vibrates in your hand. 

"Mmm," You hum, a smirk on your lips as you shake your head. "Kitty, I think you're confused, you're all mine." Words forming a purr as you lean in, faces so close you could smell his scent. Another slow, loving blink of his eyes, his tail coming around to brush up your calf.

"You have no idea how much I've missed this," The raw emotion in his eyes almost makes you pull back, his smile falling. 

You wished you could tell him you loved him, throw all the back and forth aside, throw aside how forbidden it would be to expose your relationship with your family's butler. But him melting into your touch, telling you how he missed your skin on his with those fucking bone melting eyes. Just pour your heart to him, leave everything behind for him.

But that wasn't possible. So, you stone your emotions, forcing a smirk on your lips.

"Why don't you show me?" Thumb brushing just under his eyes as you push him, trying to get him to indulge, take as much as he wants from you.

Zayne's fingers curl around your ankle, pulling your foot forward towards him as he lets out a hot pant of breath. As he grinds against you, his hard erection presses onto your shin. You feel him shutter from the contact, his eyes rolling closed as he presses his face more into your palm, open lips on your skin, feeling every exhale.

Slipping your foot out of your unbuckled shoe, you pull back, hand falling from his face as your back presses against the chair. His eyes flutter open, the slightest pout at the loss of contact from both your hand and shin. But he remains still, refusing to reach out and pull you back to him, diving in for friction. Through his black slacks, you can make out the tent growing at his groin. 

"Already so worked up..." You tsk, shaking your head from side to side, clicking your tongue. "What will we do about that, hm?" Cocking your head to the side, you cross your legs, shoeless foot over the other, tapping it up and down teasing him.

"Please... my lady," He reaches up, fingers drifting up, dusting over your heel, down your arch and latching around your clothed toes. His empty hand clenches at his side, refusing to touch himself as he begs you for any sort of relief. 

With a sigh you uncross your legs, bringing your foot to his chest with his fingers still attached. The shaky, uneven breath could be felt through his suit as you run your foot down his chest and stomach towards the place he needed you the most. Ears sloping as they relax under the building pleasure inside of him.

Finally, you press your foot to his groin, feeling his lengthy erection under your hot skin. He sighs, shifting his hips just slightly enough to get the smallest friction. The smile that spread on your lips couldn't be helped, the mingling emotions of his pleasure and the excited anticipation bubbling inside of you. The month had been too long, the nights too expansive, and Zayne too far away. But here he is, already falling apart, breaking down his walls for you just over a touch. Drool worthy cock so hard, so ready for you. You shift your foot, dragging it down to his base, watching the shudder run under his shoulders. The length mapping itself out under your toes, but far too many layers separated it for your liking. 

"Strip," You command, voice nothing higher than a breath. In an instant, he shrugs his coat off, fingers fiddling with the buttons of his shirt before that too has been discarded. He rises to his knees, thumbing the button of his slacks open, unzipping, then pulling them down along with his boxers. But you stop him there, raising your heeled foot up, right in front of his erect cock. "Fuck it," Eyes locked on his, your chest rising and falling as you wait for him to obey. 

The slick between your thighs growing as you drink him in, deep pink tip inches away from your foot, in need of release. Veins wrapping around his massive length, your mind already drifting to how they feel, every single inch of him a delicious pleasure that you needed inside of you.

Zayne shifts to the side, hands holding your heel still as he slips the tip of his cock between your clothed foot and your shoe. The groan that graces your ears has you gripping your hands at your side is enough to get your mind reeling, trying to control your urges of pushing him down and fucking yourself on him, losing all sense of control and just give in. 

"Feels so good," He groans out through is teeth as he sinks himself to the hilt, pausing there as he catches his breath. His member hot against your arched sole, blood pumping through his veins. 

After a moment, his hips shift, pulling back before thrusting forward, fucking your foot. The friction of his cock through your stockings sent tingles up your spine, shifting in your seat as the uncomfortable thrumming of arousal pooled between your thighs. Watching himself fuck his cock in your shoe, the way his mouth hung open as his chest rose and fell with every heavy breath. You never wanted it to end, not being able to get enough after being deprived for so long. 

Zayne's fingers tighten as you flex your toes, tightening your arch, making the small opening even smaller. He groans out, brows pinching as his pace picks up, cock head disappearing and reappearing as he continues. After you're done, you'd have to toss your stockings away, the wetness growing on them from his leaking cock head soiling them, unable to wear them. But the thought of walking into the dining hall, stockings stained with his precum, a claim of him, made your stomach flip. You flex your toes again, drawing a hungry moan from him as you watch the beads of sweat form at his brows. Eyes trailing down his bare chest, down his flexing stomach, and landing on his freshly shaved groin. You wanted to reach out, run your nails down his skin and watch his muscles seize as he fights back his orgasm.

"Fuck," He swears under his breath, hips moving faster, bumping into the side of your foot, stockings already soaked as his cock easily slides between. You could see how painfully erect he was, feel it. Tip flushed with the rush of blood, aching to release, cock twitching after every few thrusts. 

"You like fucking my feet?" Cooing, his eyes snap to yours, a smile playing on your lips. Your fingers brushing the hair from his damp forehead.

"Love it," Your butler breathes out, hips never stilling, but growing sloppy, the rhythm stalling every once in a while. "Love it, my lady." He repeats with a grunt, hips jerking with a harsh thrust. 

You could tell how close he was, the jerky movements, the rising and falling of his chest in jagged breaths, his hazel eyes cloudy and glossy in a haze. If you didn't stop him, he'd cum all over your foot, leaving nothing left for you. Just that thought alone was more than enough for you to stop him, gripping his strong, muscular arm to still his movements. His ears shifted to the side, confusion and frustration, eyes slowly dragging to your reddened face. 

"Go lay on the bed," Voice sounding distant, you command him. With a swish of his tail he obliges, slowly pulling his aching cock from your shoe and pushing himself up to stand. Shucking the rest of his clothes off, he walks towards your bed - your eyes never leaving his naked frame, raking in every inch. From his tight, toned ass, his fluffy tail that swayed with every footstep, to his muscular back and his wide shoulders. Every single aspect of this man made your core ache for him, like he was made just to pleasure you. 

Not wasting time, you rise to your feet, discarding your lone shoe and pad over to him. Zayne sat on the edge of your massive bed, large thigs spread, red, angry cock resting against his stomach as he allowed himself to be used. You slot yourself between his thighs, hands resting on his shoulders as you feel the heat of his body radiate around you. His hands cup the back of your knees, you can feel how clammy they were through the thin, skintight fabric. Hands pushing you to him, lifting your legs to climb onto his bare lap, hovering just over his wet cock. His face leaning in, lips hovering over yours, teasing.

"Let me please you, mistress," Breath washing over you, filling your lungs as you inhale him. Before you know it, his hands reach up, fingers curling around your tights. The rip of them sounded so overwhelmingly loud in your silent room, almost echoing off the walls. The moan that slipped from your lips wasn't intentional, eyes rolling back as your muscles almost giving out from just the action alone. You could hear his chuckle through the cloud of arousal in your mind, almost taunting at how quickly you fall while he's in control.

That wakes you up, snapping out of the fog. You push him back onto the mattress, a woosh of breath leaving his lungs as he falls, eyes widening and ears standing to attention. Not wasting any time, you reach between your bodies and push your panties to the side, guiding his cock inside of your soaked cunt. He fills you slowly, pushing through your walls, knocking your head back as you try to control yourself from being too loud. Your family was here after all, floating around the house, getting last minute preparations finished for your welcome home party. But somehow that only turned you on even more, fucking your cat butler while you should be getting dressed, ruining your clothes just so he could cum inside of you again.

Zayne's hands grip your hips, desperate for more. Once you take him completely, he hisses through his teeth, thick thighs tensing beneath your body, willing himself not to release yet. You wouldn't last long either, one entire month without his cock inside of you made your stamina nonexistent, just him alone inside of you now, you could feel the familiar tight coil binding on itself in your core. As you both catch your breath, your small hand runs up his chest, so smooth under your touch, freshly shaved how you told him you liked it. You fought back a smile, not giving into your emotions, not yet. Instead, you keep going higher, hand resting at the base of his throat, feeling the groan he lets out as you tighten your fingers slightly, feeling the jump of his cock at the movement. A rumbling purr in his chest, vibrations so strong you can feel them jitter up your arm.

He couldn't hold back any longer, tightening his hands around your hips, bucking his hard cock deep inside of you. Throwing your head back you cry out, eyes wide as you can feel him brush against that mind numbing spot inside of you, his head kissing it with every movement. He thrusts again, a low growl as he grinds his teeth together, your body jumping with his hips. He is relentless, pounding himself in your pussy at a desperate attempt to chase both of your highs, them building together in an almost perfect sync. Drawing the most beautiful noises from your lips, sending his predator instincts into a frenzy, feeding on them as he fights for more. 

"Oh!" You cry, falling to his chest, burying your face into his damp neck, his cock hitting impossibly deeper into your quivering cunt. You could taste it, your orgasm looming over you as you try to meet his now sloppy thrusts.

"'M close-" He hisses out, hands repositioning onto your ass, fingers sinking into the fatty flesh. He pushes you down, meeting his thrusts as the lewd wet slapping of your bodies bounce around the room. Anyone standing in the hall would be able to hear, but you couldn't give less of a care right now, the way he fucks himself inside of you dumbing your brain and making you drool. His tail brushing against your foot as it swipes up your leg, curling around you in need to touch you. Your hand grips his chest, nails sinking in as your mouth falls open into an O, orgasm on the tip of your tongue.

"Zayne-" You try to choke out, a whimper cutting your words of as your eyes roll back. "Coming!" Is all you manage before the hot heat runs over your body, curling your toes and burying your face into his neck as you cry out. The gush of wetness between the both of you only intensifying the noises your bodies made as his last few thrusts fuck himself inside of you. Then you feel the first hot rope, a deep groan ripping from his throat as his cock leaks into you. You feel how it pulsates, the throbbing only making the last lick of your orgasm even more intense, legs shaking just from his feeling alone. Zayne's strong arms wrap around you, holding you both still as he empties completely inside of you. 

The both of you lay like that, breath heavy as you can feel his load seeping out of your abused hole, cock softening inside. His arms stay locked around you, not wanting to let you go just yet, or maybe ever again now that he finally has you back. But right now, you don't mind, listening to his rapid beating heart, feeling his damp skin on yours, the scent of him surrounding you. 

"I love you," Your ears almost don't catch those three little words. Said so lightly it could've been a blowing breeze through the room. But his unmistakable voice is what blessed your ears. Body growing hot, his confession slipping out. You don't move, shock settling in your bones. "I know it's inappropriate, I understand if you want me to leave, my lady. But I couldn't-" You cut him off, pushing yourself from his chest, both of your arms holding you up, caging him in. 

The smile on your lips seemed to relax him, eyes softening, ears relaxing - even his tail lightly thumped against the bed. 

"I love you," You whisper, watching the flush bloom on his face, lips falling open in a gasp. You were finally able to admit it, after months of sneaking around and shoving your emotions deep down your throat, they felt so easy as they flowed from your mouth. 

His sudden movement shocked you, a shriek squealing from your lips as he lifts you and flips you onto your back. He hovers over you with a lazy smile, one only ever reserved for these secret moments with you. Without stopping himself, he leans in and kisses you, lips molding together like puzzle pieces, your heart pounding in your chest but your skin growing warm. 

Cupping his face, you give in. Allowing yourself to bask in his love while he was here with you. Never wanting it to end.

[kykyonthemoon]

Under The Weather

Zayne came to visit you when you were unwell, and turned out, you were not the only one who needed special care.

── .✦ Zayne x Female Reader|MC

♡︎. Tags: fluff, sweet, soft domestic fluff, tender loving care, established relationship, sickness, seasonal flu and usage of medication.

♡︎. Word count: ~1k

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic - currently closed.

In a dreaming state, you woke up at midday. The doorbell rang, and you had to force yourself to move your painful, fatigued body. 

Zayne was waiting for you outside. At that moment, you immediately recalled something really important.

You had stood Zayne up.

That Saturday morning was supposed to be your date at the cinema with Zayne. But in the early morning, you had a fever and ultimately fell asleep. You turned to look at the wall clock inside the room and felt even more guilty.

Zayne, though, remained silent. Just by looking at your current state, he could tell why you did not show up at the cinema. The first thing he did after entering your flat was take your temperature.

“S-Sorry, Zayne…” You mumbled while he got you some medication. “But… How was the movie?”

"I don't know." His voice echoed from the kitchen, where he was pouring a cup of water. 

“Huh?… Didn't you watch it?”

Zayne appeared in front of you. In one hand he carried a few pills, and in the other a glass of warm water. He spread both of them in front of you, bending down slightly to be within your reach on the sofa.

“I bought two tickets. If I only used one, the remaining would feel very lonely.”

Despite your feeble grin, it seemed as though a bit more life had been infused into the flower that was your heart.

“Sorry that I made you wait…” You replied after taking the medication. All of a sudden, you could picture Zayne sitting by himself at the cinema, two tickets in hand, soft drinks and popcorn beside him. You were filled with guilt. You felt so guilty. “You can just call me next time, if something like this happens again.”

“I did make a call.”

"Huh? I don't remember receiving any call..." 

You quickly found the phone on the table and turned it on. There were dozens of calls and messages from Zayne with no response. You must have fallen deep asleep, as you did not  know anything. 

Zayne lowered himself in front of you with one knee bent on the floor. He looked up at you, his hand gently ruffled your hair.

“"It's fortunate that you didn't get yourself into any trouble scarier than a fever.”

You grinned. Zayne treated you with gentleness as always. Even when you had stood him up, he did not get angry and came to your place to take care of you. All of a sudden, you were dying to kiss him. Yet when you softly closed your eyes and leaned towards his direction, your nose started to itch, causing you to sneeze violently and collapsing into Zayne instead.

He held you in his arms, caressing your soft hair. Just as you were about to sneeze again, Zayne snatched up a tissue from the table and carefully put it to your nose. Your hair was disheveled and your whole face reddened. You were still in your jammies with snowmen on them. You were so embarrassed to let him see you looking that unkempt. Zayne, though, only gave you a soft stroke on the face, saying that you should rest some more. He would take care of lunch. You drifted off into another dream right after Zayne carried you back to the bedroom.

When you woke up, he had finished preparing porridge and a light meal. Since you still wanted to make it up to Zayne for that movie both of you had missed that morning, you suggested another one at home. You curled up on the sofa, leaning against him. Remembering what he had mentioned during the meal earlier that there had been a seasonal flu epidemic in Linkon recently, you quickly rose up and moved far away from him, all the way to the other side of the sofa. Zayne rolled his eyes at you, wondering why you were acting so strange. 

“I don't want to give Doctor Zayne my flu…” You clarified.

Zayne smiled, shaking his head slightly. He gradually moved towards you until you were both sitting side by side like earlier. 

“I have a strong immune system. I am capable of taking care of you in every way without becoming sick."

Undoubtedly, you took Zayne's word for it and allowed him to look after you for the next few days. However, by the time you recovered, he was the one to get sick.

“I thought Doctor Zayne was so confident about his immune system.” While taking his temperature, you could not resist teasing him more.

Zayne lay on the bed without responding. His nose tip was red from excessive sneezing, and his body was heated from a fever. You took the opportunity to poke his cheek several times. His face reddened even more, and he appeared uneasy while lying still. Doctor Zayne seldom became so submissive and tolerated your bothering him to this extent.

You assisted him in taking his medication and urge him to get more rest.

“You should… go home… I'll be fine again tomorrow…” Zayne said. 

"I'm not leaving. You caught the flu from me, didn't you? It is now my responsibility to take care of you until you fully recover!"

Zayne met your determined gaze. He smiled softly. 

“Heal me then, Doc-tor.”

You leaned down, about to kiss him, but Zayne quickly put a hand on his lips to stop you.

“That is... not something we can do right now…”

You grimaced before giving his knuckles a tender kiss. 

"So you have to make it up to me later once you get better, Doctor Zayne," you said.

[lvrgurlblobbu]

home is where the heart is

zayne x fem!reader

⤷ cw: domestic!zayne, girl dad zayne x fem!reader, mentions of pregnancy, use of "you", teeth rotting fluff ^^

⤷ word count: 3.7k

⤷a/n: hello, this is my first time uploading a fic here on tumblr and i'm still in the process of figuring things out, this is also my first zayne fic & i'm looking forward for writing more! hope you enjoy reading : )

ao3

The rays of the morning sun made its way through the bedroom window, Zayne slowly stirred from his sleep. As his eyes fluttered open, he blinked a few times, adjusting to the morning light. His gaze drifted across the room, landing on the peaceful scene before him. There, nestled between him and his daughter, was the sight he had grown accustomed to: you, resting comfortably between them. 

You lay on your side, back gently pressed against his chest, his arm draped lovingly across your waist. Your five-year-old daughter, Hyacinth, with her small, messy curls, was nestled beside you, her tiny body curled up against yours in the most perfect display of familial love. Her soft breathing was steady, matching the rhythm of yours, and a serene smile rested on her face.

Zayne’s heart swelled with affection at the sight, a quiet, tender moment that filled him with a warmth deeper than words could express. He gently moved, careful not to disturb you and Hyacinth, and leaned in closer, his lips grazing your ear. He whispered, his voice hushed with awe and adoration, "This... this is everything."

You stirred slightly, feeling the faintest brush of his breath against my skin. You didn't need to open your eyes, since you know exactly who it was. His presence, so familiar, brought an overwhelming sense of comfort. Instead, you smiled, feeling his lips pressed against your cheek. Your daughter shifted a little, instinctively wrapping her tiny arm around you, as though trying to hold on to the peace of the moment.

Zayne smiled softly, his fingers brushing against the soft skin of your waist, as he placed a gentle kiss on your shoulder. “Good morning my love.” He whispered as he leaned closer to kiss your cheek. “Good morning.” You mumbled as you smiled at him, then after a while Hyacinth lifted her head, her eyes still half-closed and slowly blinking to adjust to the morning light. Zayne chuckled softly, his heart melting at the sight of your little girl slowly waking up. Hyacinth yawned, her tiny hand rubbing her eyes as she shifted beside you. Her sleepy gaze wandered between you and Zayne, still not fully awake, her lips curling into a drowsy smile when she saw you both.

"Morning, Daddy," she murmured, her voice hushed but full of warmth. She reached her small hand toward him, her fingers lightly brushing against his chest as she nestled closer to you. Zayne grinned, his heart swelling even more as he lifted Hyacinth and placed her on his chest. "Good morning, sweet girl," he whispered, his voice soft and affectionate.

You couldn’t help but smile at the pure, tender moment unfolding before you. It felt like time had slowed, and in that moment, nothing else mattered but the three of you—together, in your little cocoon of love. You shifted to face the both of them, head resting on Zayne as you gently brushed Hyacinth’s hair, her face buried in the crook of Zayne’s neck as she snuggled closer to him. You enjoyed a few minutes of silence, contented as you nestled against Zayne, then that silence was interrupted by a grumble of stomach. You and Zayne glanced at each other, holding back laughter then Hyacinth lifted her head, “I’m hungry…” she said shyly as she buried her head on Zayne’s chest and she wrapped her tiny arms around his neck.

Zayne chuckled, “Alright sweetheart, what do you want for breakfast?” he asked softly as he brushed Hyacinth’s hair. She looked up to him and whispered “pancakes” followed by a small giggle, Zayne smiled, his heart swelling at the sight of his little girl’s happiness. “Pancakes, huh?” he teased, brushing a strand of hair from Hyacinth’s face. "Alright, you’ve got it. Pancakes it is." He leaned down to kiss the top of her head before shifting his gaze back to you, his eyes filled with love. I sat up and I carried Hyacinth, “Let’s change our clothes first okay? Then you can help daddy make your pancakes. Is that alright with you sweetheart?” You asked, Hyacinth nodded eagerly. It made you smile before getting out of bed, Zayne folded your blanket and fixed the pillows, making sure that the bed is tidy and fixed before making his way towards you. 

His hand found your waist and he placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, “I’ll wait for the two of you at the kitchen okay?” you hummed as a response and Zayne slightly pinched Hyacinth’s cheeks before leaving your bedroom. The door closed behind him, leaving you and Hyacinth alone in the soft, quiet morning light. 

“Mama,” she murmured softly, “will Daddy make the pancakes super fluffy today?” You smiled, your heart swelling at her innocent question. “I’m sure he will, sweetheart,” you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “He always does and you can help him make pancakes.” you kissed her cheek which made her giggle, then you headed towards the cabinet to grab a new set of clothes before leaving the bedroom. 

***

Hyacinth’s little footsteps echoed throughout the house as she ran towards the kitchen where she saw Zayne mixing the pancake mix. You approached behind her, when Zayne saw the both of you, he immediately grabbed two cups of hot cocoa and placed it on the kitchen counter, then he lifted Hyacinth to place her at the stool. “Here’s a hot cocoa for you, my love.” He said as he gave you your mug. “Thank you.” you said as he kissed your cheek, then Hyacinth spoke “Daddy, can I help you make them? And can you make them extra fluffy?” She pleaded and it made you and Zayne chuckle, “Of course sweetheart, you just need to hold this and I’ll help you mix the pancake batter okay?” Zayne said as he gave the whisk to Hyacinth, he guided her as she mixed the batter slowly. 

You sat on the stool beside Hyacinth as you watched the both of them, giggles and laughter echoed throughout the kitchen as Hyacinth helped Zayne prepare the pancakes. You quickly grabbed your phone and took a quick snapshot of the moment, capturing the pure joy radiating from their faces. Zayne, with his apron tied around his waist, was smiling down at Hyacinth, who was standing on her little stool, carefully pouring batter onto the griddle with a look of intense focus. Her small hands were a little messy, but the joy in her expression was unmistakable. 

You couldn’t help but smile at the scene, your heart full as you watched the two of them. It was moments like this that made everything feel perfect—seeing your family so happy, so full of love and life. The sound of their laughter filled the room, and you felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for these simple, beautiful mornings together.  

As you set the phone down, Hyacinth caught your eye, waving her tiny hand at you. “Mama, come see! I made the pancake shape like a heart!” she exclaimed proudly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. You stood up and moved to her side, bending down to get a better look. The pancake, though a little lopsided, was indeed shaped like a heart, and your heart melted at the sight of her effort. “It’s perfect, sweetheart,” you said, your voice full of love.

Zayne wrapped an arm around your waist, kissing the top of your head, you smiled up at him, resting your head against his shoulder. “It’s perfect,” you whispered, watching as the warmth of love and laughter filled the kitchen, making it feel like home.

***

After a few minutes of preparation, the pancakes are now cooked and are placed at the dining table. Hyacinth sat in her chair as you placed a few pieces of pancakes on her plate. “Daddy, can I have more syrup please?” she asked and without missing a beat, Zayne smiled and immediately got up from his seat, reaching for the syrup bottle. “Of course, sweetheart,” he said, pouring the syrup generously over her pancakes, making sure she got just the right amount.

Hyacinth’s face lit up, her grin widening as she watched the syrup drizzle down onto her pancakes. “Yay! Thank you Daddy!” She lifted her fork and began eating, “Slow down sweetheart, you don’t want to choke on your food.” You reminded, she looked up to you with her mouth full of pancakes “Sorry mama..” she mumbled in between bites, her face flushing slightly with embarrassment.  “It’s okay, just remember to chew and take your time,” you said gently, reaching over to adjust her napkin as a piece of pancake fell onto her lap. 

Then you noticed the generous amount of syrup drizzled on her pancakes and immediately glanced at Zayne, raising an eyebrow in surprise. Zayne looked at you innocently, his lips curling into a playful grin. "What?" he said with mock innocence. "She asked for extra syrup, and I aim to please." You shook your head, trying not to laugh. "That’s way more than extra syrup, Zayne," you replied, eyeing the puddle of syrup on Hyacinth’s plate.

Hyacinth, looking up at both of you with wide, innocent eyes, chimed in, “I like it sweet, mama!” you chuckled as you shook my head, “I know sweetheart but that syrup is excessive. I know you like sweets like your daddy but we don’t want you to have a toothache, remember?” You said as you sat on your chair, Zayne, overhearing, rose from his seat with a smile and moved to the kitchen counter. “We can always make sure to have some extra brushing time later, huh?” he said with a wink as he carefully placed a couple of pancakes onto your plate. You gave him a playful look as he set the plate down in front of you. “I think I might need more than just extra brushing for this,” you teased, eyeing the stack of pancakes.

Once finished with breakfast, Zayne helped you clean up the dishes, his movements easy and familiar. You rinsed off the plates while he stacked them in the sink, both of you working together in a comfortable rhythm. Hyacinth, still full from her generous serving of pancakes, sat at the table, drawing on a piece of paper with her crayons, humming softly to herself. 

“Mama, Daddy? Can I ask a question?” she said, you and Zayne glanced at one another before drying up your hands and approached Hyacinth. “What is it sweetheart?” you asked as you sat at the chair beside her while Zayne sat in front of you. 

Hyacinth placed her crayons down as she looked at the both of you, “How are babies made?” she asked with such innocence  her voice full of genuine wonder. You and Zayne froze for a moment, exchanging a quick, surprised glance. The question was unexpected, but you could see that she was truly just curious, her head tilted to the side in that way she did when she was trying to make sense of the world around her.

Zayne cleared his throat softly, giving you a small, amused yet slightly nervous smile. “Well, sweetheart,” he began slowly, glancing over at you for guidance, “that’s a big question. Babies come from a mommy and a daddy, and they grow in the mommy’s tummy.” 

Hyacinth, clearly still processing, paused for a moment, placing both of her elbows on the table and resting her head in her hands. She looked up at the both of you with wide, curious eyes. “But... how?” she asked, her voice filled with innocent confusion, her little brow furrowed as she waited for an answer. You exchanged a glance with Zayne, both of you trying to figure out how to explain something so complicated in a way that would make sense to her.

Zayne looked at you, clearly asking for help. You mouthed “answer her question, doctor.” Then, Hyacinth asked again. “You say babies grow from mama’s tummy. Why? And how did they grow in mama’s tummy?” Her voice filled with much curiosity, Zayne chuckled nervously, but then turned back to Hyacinth, realizing he had no choice but to keep going. Hyacinth’s brows furrowed harder, her small hands now gripping the edge of the table as she leaned forward.

“Well,” Zayne started slowly, glancing at you for reassurance, “when a mommy and daddy decide they want to have a baby, something very special happens. A tiny little seed from the daddy meets a tiny little egg from the mommy, and that’s how a baby starts.” 

“Huh?” she said confusingly, followed by another question “What seed and what egg?” You tried not to laugh at her confusion, knowing that this was turning into a more complicated conversation than you expected. Zayne looked at you, clearly trying to figure out how to explain in the simplest way possible.

“Well, sweetheart,” Zayne began carefully, “the seed is something very tiny that a daddy has, and the egg is something very tiny that a mommy has. When they come together, they create the baby.” She thought about this for a second before looking up at both of you again, her curiosity growing. 

Hyacinth looked at both of you, her brow furrowing even deeper. “But where do the seed and egg come from?” she asked, her voice full of genuine curiosity, as if she wasn't satisfied yet.

You and Zayne exchanged a quick look. This wasn’t going to be a simple explanation, but you could see that she was really interested, and you didn’t want to leave her with more questions than answers.

“Well,” you said gently, “the seed comes from inside the daddy’s body, and the egg comes from inside the mommy’s body.” Hyacinth’s eyes grew wide, her face full of confusion but also a spark of intense curiosity. “But… how? How do they get there?” she pressed, not letting go of the question.

Zayne shifted in his seat, leaning toward her with a soft chuckle. “Well, sweetheart, it's a little complicated, but basically, the daddy’s seed goes inside the mommy’s tummy where it finds the egg, and that’s when the baby can start to grow.”

“But how does daddy’s seed get inside?” she asked, her tone serious and expectant, as though she was prepared for an even deeper explanation. You blinked, realizing that she wasn’t going to drop it anytime soon. She was really trying to understand. You took a breath, trying to keep things simple but honest. “Well, when a mommy and daddy are ready for a baby, they come together in a special way, and that’s how the seed and egg meet.”

Hyacinth’s brow furrowed even more, as if this explanation still didn’t quite make sense. “But... where did the seed and egg come from before? How do they get in there?” she asked again, her voice filled with earnest curiosity, clearly wanting to know more.

You and Zayne exchanged another glance, knowing this was the moment when her questions were diving deeper than you’d expected. You couldn’t help but admire her persistence, though. She wasn’t going to let go of this mystery until she understood it completely.

Zayne took a deep breath, leaning forward slightly as he tried to simplify it even more. “Okay, sweetie, so… the seed and the egg are part of our bodies from the very beginning. The daddy has seeds inside his body, and the mommy has eggs inside hers. But they’re too tiny to see, like little bits of dust.”

You nodded, adding, “When a mommy and daddy decide they want a baby, the daddy gives the mommy one of his seeds, and it goes inside her body to meet the egg. The seed and egg are so small, you can’t see them with your eyes. They meet in the mommy’s tummy, and that’s when the baby starts to grow.”

Hyacinth’s face remained thoughtful, still trying to wrap her mind around it all. “But how do the seeds and eggs know where to go? Do they walk?” she asked, her voice full of wonder.

You chuckled softly at her creative thinking. “Not exactly,” you said, smiling. “They don’t walk, but the seed knows where to go because it has to find the egg. The mommy’s body helps guide the seed to the egg, so they can meet and start the baby’s growth.”

Zayne smiled, seeing how hard she was concentrating. “It’s like a tiny race, and the seed has to get to the egg before anything else can happen.” Hyacinth giggled at the idea of a race but seemed satisfied for a moment. Then, her expression shifted again, and she asked, “So, does the egg just wait for the seed to come? Does it know the seed is coming?”

You and Zayne both stopped, realizing she was thinking deeply about how all of this worked. “Well, the egg doesn’t exactly wait on its own. It’s part of the mommy’s body, so it’s always there, ready when the time comes for the seed to meet it,” you explained gently. “It’s like when you’re getting ready for a playdate—you’re waiting, but you don’t know exactly when the other person will arrive. But when they do, you’re ready to start playing.”

Her eyes brightened as if that made more sense. “So, the egg and seed wait for each other, and when they meet, that’s when the baby starts?”

“Yes, that’s right, sweetheart,” Zayne confirmed, relieved that she was getting it. “The baby starts growing right after the seed and egg meet, and then it keeps growing bigger and bigger until it's ready to be born.” She thought about it for a moment before nodding seriously. “Okay, I think I get it now. The seed and egg make the baby, and they don’t walk, but they find each other.”

“Exactly,” you said, feeling a bit of relief. “You’re really good at understanding all this, sweetie.”

Hyacinth smiled, pleased with herself for figuring it out, then went back to her crayons. “Can I have one?” she asked, you and Zayne glanced at one another. “What do you want to have?” Zayne asked, Hyacinth looked at Zayne with a huge smile on her face, “A baby!” 

You chuckled at her, “If you decided to have one then you may honey, but having a baby comes with great responsibilities. You may have one, once you grow older. Just like your daddy and I.” You said as you brushed her hair, but Hyacinth frowned, frustrated that you didn’t get what she was saying.

“No mama, what I want is that you and daddy to have another baby.” Zayne blinked, his expression a mixture of surprise and amusement. You paused for a moment, realizing what she meant. Hyacinth wasn’t asking for a baby of her own, but rather wishing for a sibling, one more to join the family.

You and Zayne exchanged a soft, knowing glance. You smiled warmly at her, understanding her innocent wish. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s very sweet of you,” you said softly, running a hand through her hair. “But right now, we’re very happy with our little family just the way it is. Daddy and I are taking care of you, and we’re very lucky to have you as our daughter.”

“But I want a baby brother or sister! So I can share my crayons and toys with them.” She said as she continued to draw on her paper, “and oh! The four of us could also cuddle all the time.” She giggled.

You smiled at Hyacinth, your heart warming at her innocent wish. As you glanced at her drawing, you saw that it was a family picture, with you, Zayne, her, and the little baby sibling she hoped for. The drawing was filled with love and joy, with each of you drawn in bright, colorful shapes and her little sibling represented by a tiny figure in the corner.

For a moment, you just stared at her, your gaze softening as you took in the picture she created—her version of the perfect family. You couldn’t help but smile at how pure and full of love her little heart was. But as you were lost in thought, you felt Zayne's gaze on you.

When you looked over at him, you found his eyes fixed on you, a gentle smile on his lips. There was something in his gaze, a mixture of affection and gratitude, that made your heart skip a beat. He wasn’t just looking at you with love for the mother of his child, but also with the same warmth and tenderness he always had.

“Maybe someday, sweetheart…” Zayne whispered to you, his voice gentle and filled with warmth. You smiled at him, the corners of your lips curving upward as you met his gaze.

"Yeah, maybe someday," you echoed, the words soft but filled with the unspoken understanding between you.

For a moment, the world around you seemed to slow down. You both watched Hyacinth, so absorbed in her drawing, her innocent wish for a sibling hanging in the air. There was a quiet peace between you and Zayne, a shared feeling that, no matter what the future held, you were content with the love you had right here, right now.

Zayne leaned in just slightly, his hand finding yours and giving it a soft squeeze. "Whatever happens," he said quietly, "I'm glad it's with you." You looked into his eyes, finding that familiar warmth and affection that had always been there. "Me too," you whispered, your heart full. "I wouldn’t want it any other way."

The two of you shared a quiet, understanding smile before turning your attention back to Hyacinth, who was now proudly showing off her drawing—her family picture, complete with the little sibling she hoped for. Her voice bubbled up with excitement as she pointed to the baby in the drawing, her face glowing with joy. "Look, mama! Look, daddy! This is us!"

You both smiled at her, your hearts full, knowing that whatever the future brought, your little family was already perfect just as it was. And maybe, just maybe, someday, her dream of a baby brother or sister would come true. But for now, you were content, surrounded by love and happiness in this moment.

And little did you know that Hyacinth’s wish was already being quietly fulfilled, though none of you knew it yet. The seed of a new beginning had already been planted—hidden, just beneath the surface—waiting to reveal itself when the time was right. Life was unfolding in ways you couldn’t yet see, but soon enough, the love you shared as a family would grow even more.

divider by : @enchanthings

[excusemyobsessions]

Did you have a bad dream?

Zayne x MC/You

Genre:  Fluff, One Shot, Gender neutral reader POV

Word count: 1800 words

Little note: I'm sure this has been done a million times before by other authors but I was suddenly assaulted by the image of soft Zayne comforting you after a nightmare so here we are. Enjoy? haha

Warnings: Description of a nightmare, pet names (honey), teeth-rotting fluff

(Also posted on AO3)

In the middle of the night, you stirred.

Heavy eyelids fluttered open.

Visions of angry, black ice shards still danced behind your eyes. You had to blink them a few times to be able to focus on the present. On the actual sight before you. The empty bed, your fingers which gripped the covers. You curled in on yourself even further, hugged the comforter tight to your chest, against your heart which beat wildly against your ribcage. Your eyebrows furrowed for a moment, forming a crease in between them.

You had not fallen asleep by yourself yet when you reached out, Zayne's side of the bed was cold.

Slowly, you pushed off the covers.

“Zayne?” you called in a tiny voice, drowsy from sleep, sitting up to search for your big snowman whose warmth had been peeled away from you.

You could swear you could still feel the grip of his frozen fingers which held on to your hand in desperation in your dream. As his frame was engulfed in black crystals, you'd kept holding his hand, frantically trying to resonate with him to no avail. 

You watched it helplessly, unable to do anything as he was quickly cocooned within the grasp of that black plague. The last thing you saw were his eyes, those green orbs of the purest shade, haloed in gold; their shades of despair.

Your gaze went darting across the room, desperately searching for those green eyes which you could not find. Zayne wasn't in his room.

Once you got used to the darkness, you finally noticed the door was slightly open, a gentle yellow light shining through into the room.

There was a deep need inside your chest, this desperate tug. You had to see his face, had to hear his voice, the gentle, soothing sound of it. All you could hear in your mind was his screams of your name which your brain had conjured in your sleep.

You slipped out of bed and wrapped yourself up in the blanket which was draped over the bottom of the bed. Bare foot, you padded towards the light, out of the room and into Zayne's study room.

In his sleep attire, he sat on his office chair, typing away on his laptop, glasses perched on his nose. Work had clearly dragged him out of bed, a while ago it seemed because sleep had already left his eyes by now. You could tell he was tired by the way his shoulders curved and how his body was slightly hunched over. 

Your hands gripped the corners of the blanket just a little tighter, standing at the very entrance of the room.

“Zayne?” you called again.

His head instantly turned towards you, a little acknowledging hum rumbling from his throat in response to your calling. Yet the second his eyes found yours, one hand lifted up to remove his glasses, laying them down on the desk as he turned in his chair towards you.

“What's wrong?” He asked, concern very clear in his deep voice. “I'm sorry, one of the nurses called. They needed an urgent report.”

As he explained the situation, his free hand lifted, outstretched towards you, beaconing you in.

“That's okay,” you told him, voice still very little, so very unlike you.

You stepped into the room, reaching out to take his hand, letting him pull you onto his lap. 

His skin was warm against yours, a stark contrast of the cold you'd felt in your dream. As you sat down on his thighs, shoulder resting against his chest, you took that hand between both of yours, letting your fingers slip into the empty gaps between his fingers. And you kept it there, holding it tight, so tight it felt like your life depended on it.

“Did you have a bad dream?” he asked gently, alert eyes scrutinizing your features.

A little affirmative hum was all you mustered in response, nodding your head along with it.

His eyes were far too intense, so full of concern it was making you self-conscious. What a silly thing to be so choked up by a dream when you knew damn well it was just that; a dream. 

You averted your gaze then, dragging his hand up to your lips, placing a kiss against a scarred knuckle, letting your nose rub against his skin, basking in its warmth.

“Oh, honey,” he breathed out.

His grip tightened around you, dragging your closer against his chest, and you slotted your head on the curve of his neck. His hand stayed within yours, pressed against your chest as you felt him drop a tender kiss on the top of your head.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he encouraged, mouth still against your head.

You turned your head to nuzzle your nose against his collarbone, trying your absolute best to swallow down that very clear knot which your vocal chords had tied themselves into. His free hand lifted up to cradle your head and he soon began to run his fingers soothingly through your hair, deftly untangling any knots.

“It was you… you were in danger and I couldn't help you,” you told him in a low voice, your own fingers subconsciously gripping onto his hand tighter.

You heard him hum, felt the rumbling of the sound against your temple. You let your eyes close, focusing on just that, the sounds you could hear so clearly at this distance. When he took in a breath, you could hear the air circle in his lungs and feel his warm breath against your hair.

“Hmm, that seems to be a recurring theme in your nightmares,” he mused.

You once again responded with a little hum.

Zayne was very warm. His body heat radiated from him, and engulfed you in its tender embrace.

The way you nuzzled his neck was almost desperate, frantic until you found just the curve to nestle your nose and hide your face, breathing in his soothing scent; his body wash, the natural scent of his skin, the warmth of the bed which still lingered on his sleep clothes.

The more you sank into him, the tighter he held you, a little shuddering breath escaping him.

“Hey,” he whispered, all the gentleness in his heart gathered in his voice. “I'm right here, I'm okay. We're okay,” he told you.

Everything about him was just so reassuring. From the way he moved his free hand to run up and down your back, to the way he seemed to hunch in on you, as if trying to wrap himself around you and protect you from the world.

Zayne really was your safe space, your shelter. No one else in this world could ever make you feel like this; like you belonged. He made you feel like you were there for a reason, like he wanted you there.

“There's no one else I'd trust myself to. Your dreams are just that, dreams. In real life, you're more than capable of keeping me safe,” he said.

His voice was low, words spoken against the top of your head. There wasn’t an ounce of his usual mirth, not even a touch of sarcasm. He was sincere, so candid it made your heart tremble in your chest.

You moved away from his neck and both of you straightened up to look at each other. You hadn’t let go of his hand yet and you had no intentions of doing so. He didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he’d started very gently running his thumb over your knuckle, slowly but surely alleviating the tightness of your grip.

His gaze was steady, locked in on yours. His eyes were gentle, two pools of calm waters, their shade of jade so warm and tender. You lifted up one hand to cup his cheek, run your thumb right under his eye and his lips curved into a soft smile.

Slowly, he lowered himself closer and closer until his forehead was resting against yours. You breathed him in, closing your eyes.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“There’s no need for that,” he responded instantly.

Your eyes fluttered open when you felt him move, only for them to close again when he tenderly placed his lips against your forehead. He kissed your skin once and then again, then your temple and your cheek. Under such tenderness, you felt yourself melt, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

When you opened your eyes again, he was watching you closely with a tiny smile plastered across his own lips. You reached up and kissed his cheek before returning to your spot, nestled up against his chest, resting your head on his shoulder. You could hear his little chuckle rumbling against your ear.

“Are you almost done?” you questioned, taking a peek at his screen.

In the meantime, it had locked itself in the idleness of the moment.

Zayne shifted a little, accommodating himself and you, ready to finally get back to his report.

“Yes, just a little longer,” he answered.

He reached out to grab his glasses and perch them up on his nose again and you settled down against him. You could tell by now, all and any tension in your body had slowly drifted away. You were turned into a sleepy, mushy mess, shoulders slightly hunched over.

“Can I stay with you?” you mumbled against his shoulder.

He hummed affirmatively in response, eyes already locked on the screen.

“It might take me longer than expected, now that I only have one hand to work with,” he mused, a clear touch of teasing in his voice.

Oh.

His hand was very much still within yours, fingers still intertwined. You definitely did not want to let go but he was right wasn't he? It was the middle of the night and both of you needed rest.

You led his hand to your lips, hearing him shift his position. You kissed each knuckle under his attentive gaze, letting your eyes lock onto his when you kissed his ring finger. And then you reluctantly let go.

“You're right.” You nodded, getting ready to return to your spot against his shoulder.

However, before you could, his kissed fingers caught you by the chin and kept you there, with your face tilted upwards. He lowered himself down and dropped a kiss on your lips, slow and gentle. Dormant butterflies fluttered in your stomach.

“It won't take long,” he promised.

You nodded and returned your head to his shoulder, closing your eyes. Gripping onto the front of his shirt, you let him get back to work.

Wrapped up in his warmth and lulled by the sound of his steady breathing and the quick typing of his fingers against the keyboard, you soon drifted off to sleep.

[xinnn6]

Ah yes, Dr. Zayne. The kind of boyfriend every mother would love and approve 🤤

I love that the developers keep up with the agenda that he's the ideal boyfriend every mother wishes for sdjkfnsjn

I just know that if he's real, my mother would nag at me constantly to just marry the man

[kinda-indecisive]

.⋅ ˚̣✧ :–⭒  Lingering Affections pt. II⭒–:✧ ˚̣⋅ .

How I imagine the guys would react to you (MC) surprising them with a kiss that lingers a bit longer than expected. Caleb's was a little more angsty than I meant, but he's just so angst-coded!

Part 2: The Zayne, Sylus and Caleb Edition! 

:✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧:

Zayne 

Continuing to pout, you hold on as he rolls your office chair toward him.

“Don’t be a meanie,” you sulk, as if the doctor had personally offended you and not the random cat from the video you two had been watching.

“I was hardly being a ‘meanie’ and merely stated a fact. That cat couldn’t manage the jump onto the counter because it was too fat,” he reiterates. You continue to keep your back to him and he chuckles, pushing your hair away from your neck and laying his chin on your shoulder, “But I never said it wasn’t cute.”

You snort, then laugh, eagerly reaching back. You feel the corner of his mouth raise in a soft smile as he presses his cheek to your palm.

His voice is a hum when he speaks, “Thank you for today’s lunch.”

“You deserve it.”

The statement is obvious whether you’re taking today’s actions into account or not. Zayne is a paragon of everything a doctor should be. 

Today’s example? He had to postpone your original lunch plans because of a new patient of his. The man had undergone a big procedure and Zayne didn’t want to leave the hospital in case there was an emergency or if there was something else that prevented the patient from getting adjusted while he was out.

Hearing his reason for canceling, you decided to bring lunch to him, happy to spend any time with him, even if it meant he’d be called away at any minute.

As fate would have it, the patient is well and Zayne wasn’t needed, therefore you two have been able to enjoy an entire lunch together, giggling over silly videos on your phone and chatting about the trip you are planning for next month when things are expected to be less busy at the hospital.

You’re in such a good mood, you don’t even mind that the end of his lunch break is looming ever nearer.

The casual thought makes you check the time and Zayne tenses in surprise when you shoot up straight in your chair.

“Is everything alright?” he inquires, concern lacing his voice as he watches you stand.

“I’m late! I didn’t realize your lunch break was over. I told Jenna I’d have that report in before 4 and I’m not exactly close to finishing it,” you frown, wondering what compelled you to empty nearly all the contents of your bag in Zayne’s office during your visit.

While helping you get yourself in order, he offers, “I’m sure there’s a computer here in the hospital you could use. Even mine, if it’s that important.”

“I would, but I left the paperwork related to the report on my desk back at the Association. I wouldn’t be able to complete it without referencing it and I can’t reference it if I don’t have it on me.” 

“I would offer to drive you--” he begins and you cut him off, touching his forearm.

“You have work to do,” you reassure, “I promise, I’ll be fine.”

“Let me call you a cab,” he suggests, “Otherwise you’ll be exhausted from running back to the Association and pass out at your desk before getting anything done.”

You accept his offer only because he has a point. You begin to open the door before suddenly turning on your heel. Zayne has his phone in hand and stops abruptly, having intended to escort you out. 

“Is there something else?” he asks, a small frown between his eyebrows.

You stand on your toes to kiss his cheek, then quickly change your mind to find his lips instead.

He is by no means a stranger to your kisses these days, but the suddenness of this one takes him by surprise and he tenses for a split second before sighing softly and hooking a finger under your chin, his other arm closing around your waist as he draws you closer.

When you two part, he looks at you with those piercing eyes turned soft from your lingering affections.

“What was that for?” he asks, his voice only slightly teasing.

“I enjoyed our date today, Dr. Zayne.”

“Well… I’m glad.”

:✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧:

Sylus 

This is supposed to be a quick trip. Your role is to attend the auction like normal while Sylus shakes down some big, bad bosses upstairs using intimidation tactics that only he is capable of. It’s a typical mission you’ve done with Sylus over a hundred times now. However, from the second you arrived at today’s auction, you found yourself growing more and more agitated.

You’re used to the looks of others as you and Sylus walk together. A man with his presence is hard to miss; not to mention that he just so happens to be one of, if not the most attractive men anyone here has ever seen in their entire lives. So of course people are going to look. But that doesn’t explain why it’s really getting on your nerves today.

“You’ve gone quiet on me. Is everything alright?” Sylus asks, that teasing tone in his voice, though he fails to hide the gentle concern in his eyes.

“Everything’s fine, Sy,” you reassure, then gesture toward the crowd, “Didn’t you say I’d be handling things down here at the auction while you took care of business upstairs?”

You stop walking and turn to look up at him. At the corner of your eye, you register movement and, for the faintest of seconds, you make eye contact with one of the women who has been watching Sylus with a keen interest. As a matter of fact, this woman had been outside on the balcony when the two of you arrived and must have come in intending to intercept and introduce herself.

Or it could be a coincidence.

When her eyes land on Sylus again, seeming to appraise the width of his aggravatingly broad shoulders, you are certain it’s no mere coincidence.

“...again. Are you certain you’re up to doing this tonight?” he asks with a deep frown and you realize you had accidentally blocked out what he was saying. It’s not hard to guess, though.

“I’m perfectly alright,” you insist, “You go. We’ll do everything as planned and then go home, right?”

You feel a little guilty for the way he looks at you right now, concern etched into the corners of his deep, crimson eyes. After a long moment, he sighs.

“Alright, we’ll stick to the plan,” he says, thoughtlessly brushing off jacket sleeve, “Though you’ll tell me instantly if something’s wrong.”

It’s a command, not a suggestion, and you nod with an innocent smile.

He regards you for another second before leaning down and pressing a quick, departing kiss on your cheek.

This is your chance! Seeing the silhouette of the same woman looming ever nearer, you drape your arms around his shoulders before he straightens up and bring your lips to his.

Warmth fills you from head to toe and you feel his heavy hand hesitate for no more than a second before landing delicately against your waist.

You linger, but not too long. Just enough, however, to feel his shoulders soften beneath your forearms.

When you lean back, he opens his eyes, looking at you through heavy lids that make your stomach flip. After a second of collecting himself, he speaks, his voice coming from even deeper in his chest than usual. 

“Now I know for certain that you’re up to something…” he purrs.

Still a little warm in the face yourself, you admit in a small voice, “She wouldn’t take her eyes off you. Or didn’t you notice?”

His eyebrows raise ever so slightly, the concern disappearing from his features instantly, only to be replaced by his usual humored, smug little smile.

“Who is there to notice, sweetie? You’re the only other person who exists in the entire Universe,” he hums, bringing his fingertips to the side of your face with feather-light touches, “Although…”

“Although…?” you question, putting a gentle warning in your voice that he acknowledges with a soft chuckle.

“Although I like the idea of you staking your claim on what’s yours, kitten,” he says, straightening up as you watch the woman turn away as if she’d merely taken the wrong turn, “And I like the idea of being indisputably yours.”

:✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧:

Caleb 

Caleb was leaving again. It was something you were starting to get used to. He’ll come down from Skyhaven for a day or two, sometimes a week if you were lucky, then take off again for weeks at a time. You know it could be worse; you survived the worst of the worst after the incident, and you always try to remind yourself of that.

You remind yourself, also, that you can always get a response from him when he’s in Skyhaven. That, knowing him, even if he were in the far-out depths of the Deepspace Tunnel he would do everything in his power to find a way to get a message out to you if he needed to.

This still doesn’t make his departures any easier.

He has no doubt noticed your silence. It would be hard not to, even if he weren’t eternally hyper-observant toward your every discomfort. And crammed into the back seat of the cab together you’re certain he feels it.

And it’s not like you’re angry at him. You had a great time with him this week. Every day after work he was there to pick you up from the Association with a ready smile and plans for your evening. Always guessing exactly when you were too exhausted to go out and already having a backup plan of a homecooked meal and a silly movie from your childhood lined up.

You two went shopping for groceries together, met up with friends, and even managed to get a private viewing of young Caleb’s favorite aviation exhibit at the museum after it closed for the day.

This week was perfect.

Maybe that’s why you’re feeling so frustrated right now. You don’t want to give him up to the stupid fleet and the others in Skyhaven who you’re 100% certain he cannot fully trust even 50% of and that scares and annoys you. 

The cab comes to a stop and you get out, startling a little when Caleb clears his throat, “Got a lot on your mind?”

You blink, looking up at him. Then, “Oh… I’m fine.”

He continues to peer down at you, reaching out with the hand that isn’t carrying his suitcase to touch your cheek.

“That wasn’t very convincing at all.”

Sighing, you place your hand over his and lock his fingers between your own. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” you mumble and he grins even wider.

“Like what?” he asks, his voice oozing with that same annoying playfulness that has made you wanna tackle him to the ground for as long as you can remember, “Come on, let’s go inside. It’s chilly out here.”

Your fingers still intertwined, you allow him to guide you into the train station. The further into the area you go, the more you feel the urge to yank him to a stop. To whine and complain until he has to give in and stay in Linkon City for as long as you like.

You sigh at how childish the thought is and keep walking even when you hear the announcement of his train’s arrival in five minutes.

His brisk walk finally slows and he stops at a bench, gesturing for you to sit. You hesitate for a moment before shaking your head. He frowns, his head tilting as he tries to get a better look at your face.

“Are you mad at me?” he asks innocently.

“No,” you respond, stealing a quick glance at the arrival times one more time. Caleb catches the movement and looks over his shoulder, grimacing slightly at the numbers.

His entire body tenses when you suddenly hook an arm around his shoulders and yank him down toward you, your lips finding their target effortlessly as you kiss him as deeply as you dare in public.

His eyes are as wide as saucers when you part, his guard completely faltering and crumbling before you. He tries to play it off, however, chuckling, “Geez, pip-squeak. Your training at the Hunter Association has paid off. You could have folded me in half with that move.”

Unable to resist a giggle, you bury your face in his chest, murmuring, “I know you know how to watch your back, Caleb. But… be extra careful out there. For me?”

“Of course,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head, his voice suddenly full of emotion as he realizes what’s been eating you up all morning, “You’re my reason for everything, you know that.”

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MY LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MASTERLIST

[beneathashadytree]

THEIR KIDS TEXTING THEM - TEXTING THE LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MEN

Warnings : Zayne & Rafayel each have 1 kid (around 4 y/o), Xavier has twins (6 y/os), kids’ genders aren’t specified, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : tooth-rotting domestic fluff

Additional notes : This is a combination of two requests I’d been looking forward to posting for a long time. My number 1 weakness is tender-hearted family men☹️💗 To anyone else reading this, my requests are still closed!! These are just old requests I had in my inbox🫶🏽

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