#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.

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

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[shouyuus]

(from prev blog) anon asked: Happy bday!! This is my first time using tumblr so idek if this is the right place to ask or if it’s too late! But I was wondering if you could write a Zayne x reader drabble for your 30 event 🤍 I saw someone make a rose out of snow by pressing snow on a card and wrapping it around a stick; I think it’d be so cute for Zayne to do that for the reader while they’re walking back home or smthing (even tho he could use his evol this is cuter 😭)

一翦玫 (one cut rose)

zayne; fluff; i rly said fuck the word limit with this one whoops

─── 黎深 THE MORNING DAWNS in a painful, world-swallowing blue, not a wish or whisper of clouds in sight, and Zayne knows that it’ll be cold enough to blister. He can always feel the winter creeping into his bones, twining between his muscles till they ache for something, for anything.

You’re bleary in his arms when he shakes you awake, and the way you peer up at him through sleep-heavy lashes makes his entire world shimmer down to the size of this bedroom, of your tiny groan as you try to bury your face in his pillow and swat him away.

“C’mon. I’ll walk you,” he says, voice indulgent in the way it only is when he’s speaking to you.

The snow crunches fresh and true underfoot, and he watches as you bloom beneath the robin’s egg sky, head tilting back, your breath twisting up in a thin spiral of white mist as you let out a long breath.

“It’s so beautiful out!”

“Careful, or you’ll slip,” he admonishes, tugging you off a small snowbank back onto the sidewalk. You pout up at him even as he adjusts your scarf.

“Killjoy…” you mutter, and Zayne scoffs, tugging on his own turned up collar.

You pass by an old man selling flowers on the street corner, and you skip ahead to press a bill into his hand, telling him to keep warm even as he smiles and hands you a flower. Zayne watches, a tender happiness threading up his throat as you turn back to hand him the flower.

“For your desk,” you say, “to add some color, or else people are gonna think you’ve got no personality.”

Zayne takes the flower and studies it, a rose in shocking lemon-rind yellow. He brings it up to his nose.

“Thanks.”

You grin up at him, looking pleased and mischievous both.

“Now you owe me a flower too!” you say. Zayne regards you with a contemplative sort of look before turning and continuing down the street. You pout, jogging after him.

“Fine, fine — you don’t have to give me a flower — I was just —”

“You’ll get one,” he says, reaching into his pocket for a credit card. Stooping down towards a mound of untouched snow, he scoops up a thin layer on the card and begins his work, pressing each layer around the previous one, using the heat of his hand to melt the “petals” till they curl into one single snow-white rose.

You gasp as he finishes his work, dusting his hands off on his jacket.

“It’s… beautiful! But… how am I gonna carry if there’s no stem?”

At this, Zayne tsks, summoning his Evol, and you watch with bright eyes as a crystaline stem forms from the base of the rose, extending out, glimmering leaves unfurling in ice as he hands the flower to you. You take it between delicate fingers and smile as you lean in to take a whiff.

“It won’t smell like a rose,” Zayne says, tucking his hands back into his pockets, watching as you stare down at the miraculous flower, “that’s not something my Evol can do just yet.”

But your smile is brilliant as a winter’s morning as you turn back towards him, clutching the flower to your chest, “It’s okay — it smells like winter!”

“Does it now?” Zayne asks, amusement twinkling behind his eyes, “And what exactly does winter smell like?”

You twirl the white rose between careful fingers before shooting him a truly heart-stopping wink —

“It smells like you.”

final wc: 604 || be part of my taglist!

a/n: a few words of explanation -- the trend that anon is asking about can be see here, its rly very cute. also, the title of this fic is a "play" on the popular 一剪梅, aka the "xue hua piao piao" song LMFAO, where i changed the "梅" meaning "plum" from the song title to “玫" from '玫瑰" or "rose" since both 梅 and 玫 are pronounced "mei3". i thought it was a fun little thing to do and the actual song itself is about winter and snow so! :)

taglist: @yaoduriaa @queen-serena88 @stunies

[erensfeed]

THE PARALLELS ARE INSANE.

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

[xinnn6]

ladies & gentlemen, he said it again ‼️

[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! 💜

[gattapotatta]

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

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

[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.”

[lads-ficrecs]

ᴛɪᴍᴇʟᴇꜱꜱ ꜰᴀᴠᴏᴜʀɪᴛᴇꜱ ────୨ৎ────

✦ These are recommendation lists made by other users. Since I might not be able to find all the fics about lads, here's some lists made by other lads fans; you might find something new.

For more information, see the Pinned Post here! Check out the author list here! Check out series list here!

✦ Sylus fanfiction recommendations by @celestialgojo

✦ Wall of fame by @writingastory

✦ Sylus fic recommendations by @tsukimirecs

✦ Hybrid AU fanfic recommendations by @grabby-smitten

✦ Lads fic recs by @joy-laufeyson

✦ Sylus fic recommendations by @joy-laufeyson

✦ Love and Deepspace fic recs by @sylusdarling

✦ Love & Deepspace Masterlist by @solifloris

✦ Caleb fic recommendations by @joy-laufeyson

✦ AO3 lads Fic Recs Jan-Feb 2025 by @circecyerce

✦ LADS fic recs by @juiceeypeach

✦ 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐬 by @swissschees3

✦ Rafayel fic recs by @us3r999999

✦ Love and deepspace Rec list by @linkonlceleste

Credits to: -> @fic-dumpster -> @toastray

[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

[navydoves]

Cat!Zayne and his strange affectionate habits

you love your kitty boyfriend, but he does some strange things!

✎ᝰ a/n: highly requested kitty zayne is now part 4 of this series. im gonna do a "habits while in heat" sister series so if you wanna be tagged just tell me. caleb is gonna be the last one to complete the 5.

bunny xavier mermaid rafayel dragon sylus

⭐︎

❥ he’s likes waiting. kitty zayne is very patient. he’ll never whine or complain (too much) about how long you’ve been gone or how far away mealtime is. he’ll definitely miss you, yes, but he likes focusing on the fact that you’re with him now.

he’ll sit by you on the bed and wait for you to wake up, but he’ll do this for hours if he needs to. if he wants to play or spend time with you but you’re busy, he’s perched right beside you quietly just very patiently waiting. you feel a little bad sometimes, but zayne reassures you by telling you that he doesn’t mind waiting. that all he cares about is getting you as his reward.

❥ he holds you with his tail. zaynes favorite form of physical affection is gripping onto you for dear life with his tail. it’s very casual too. when you’re doing dishes he’ll come up behind you and peck your scalp while his tail wraps around your waist. he’ll wrap his tail around your wrist in public to guide you and show affection.

he especially loves wrapping his tail around you when you’re asleep with him. with his strong arms under your armpits and around your chest and his tail either wrapped on your thigh or midsection, zayne refuses to go to sleep any other way. it’s a bit suffocating but zayne is naturally cool-skinned so it doesn’t make you overheat.

❥ he has sensory issues. because of this zayne is very particular about what he sleeps on, the texture of his food, how his ears/tail/nails are trimmed, etc. you’ll see him on the bathroom very meticulously snipping away at his hair to ensure it’s always clean and neat because it’ll bother him if it’s any other way. it’s also a plus to know he’s very clean.

he’s usually adverse to getting too close to someone because he also very easily overheats. which is why when he cuddles you, you’ll see him use his evol on his skin. similarly he prefers wearing very light clothing or being just straight up naked in bed because it helps him with temperature and also, he likes you feeling his bare body <3.

❥ he’s subtly territorial. he likes to remind you and everyone else around you that you’re his and vice versa. he’s not the type to whine or pout about it, but he’ll do things like stare people down or wrap his tail around your ankle if they’re being too friendly with you.

he also likes scenting you in every way possible. you think his head nudges and rubs are purely affectionate, but he also does them to get his natural kitty scent on you. its not a once or twice thing, its constantly throughout the day. especially when your scent is gone after a shower he’ll take like 10 minutes just to cover you in his smell again.

❥ he massages (kneads) you a lot! it’s well known that cats like kneading when they’re happy, but zayne likes to call it “massages”. this is because he only ever kneads you. his favourite places are your tummy and your thighs, but he’ll take anywhere.

very firmly but still gentle, he cups your soft flesh and squeezes or rubs with his large palms. even kitty zayne knows anatomy pretty well, so he’ll target the areas where the biggest muscle groups are or where you complain about being achy. it’s very soothing and somewhat erotic at times because his attention is fully on you. likes it’s a job to him play with your chub and skin.

❥ he’s at your beck and call. if zayne is gonna do something its gonna be listen to you. zayne is not submissive by nature, but he enjoys taking care of you so much that he’ll let you boss him around. he’s not a dog, but he’ll fetch if you ask.

if you ask him to cook he’ll cook for the next few days and always serve you first. if you ask him to use his car he’ll drive you himself and give extra money. if you ask him to jump he might just ask how high. it’s not overbearing by any means, it’s actually rather domestic and husband-like. he does things for you silently but his tail wags always indicate how happy he is doing it. ⭐︎ hey frens tags : @otomegamesforlife , @chersyluvs

[himbo-kuto]

doctor!reader x doctor!zayne summary: zayne just loves u or sumn :p

“hmm.. that’s strange..” you mumbled to yourself as you looked at the chart that your husband just handed to you. zayne studied your confused expression as you flipped back and forth between pages. he came to your office with results that he couldn’t exactly connect all the dots on. you worked in orthopedics and in many instances you were able to fill in the blanks. 

“and you ran all the tests and they came back…” you looked back at his figure that was hovering over you– one hand on the back of your chair, one on your desk. 

“negative.” he confirmed. 

“mhmm…” you turned your attention back to the chart, your brows furrowing immediately as you now had to read every word on the page slowly, just to make sure you didn’t miss any important information. you took the glasses that were resting on the bridge of your nose and pushed them upward into your hair, now feeling like you were able to see the chart more clearly. 

zayne took a pause as he fully took in your appearance. your glasses perfectly pushed your hair back, giving him a clear view of your face– furrowed brows and pouty lips. he smiled unbeknownst to him as he was just filled with love and gratitude. the sun from the outside was hitting you perfectly, making you glow like an angel (his angel). 

“i think we should run a–” you looked over to find your husband with a soft expression that was oozing admiration and affection. it made you blush instantly. just how long had he been looking at you like that?

“why are you looking at me like that, dr. zayne?” he reached over and tucked a stray hair behind your ear as you tried to refocus on the task at hand, though failing miserably. 

“no reason in particular. you just look radiant, my love.” you whined as you kicked your feet under your desk, using the clipboard to hide your blushing cheeks.

“zayne, what did we say about compliments in the office!” he turned your chair around so you were fully facing him. he took said clipboard, placing it on your desk (now forgotten) and caged you into your chair. he leaned in further, now inches from your face. 

“i don’t remember anything about giving compliments, doctor. we agreed not to kiss in public and last time i checked..” you watched as his gaze flickered upward to view your empty office.

“...it was just you and me.” you bit back your smile as you shyly looked up at him, your cheeks deepening in color. he planted a kiss on your forehead before leaning down and capturing your lips. he stayed there for a moment, reveling in the feeling of your lips on his. 

“did you come in here to get a second opinion or to steal a kiss dr. zayne?” you whispered softly as he pulled back, as to not break the moment. 

“you can’t steal something that already belongs to you, dear.” in one fell swoop, he landed another kiss on your lips, grabbed the clipboard from your desk and headed toward the door. 

“i’ll run that test you suggested, thank you doctor.” and just like that he was gone from your office. you blinked a few times before shouting to his fleeting figure. 

“you didn’t even hear what test i wanted to run!” 

[lyn31]

It's just a cut

Summary:

A tiny cut, a huge overreaction—Zayne goes full doctor mode, and you can’t resist messing with him.

Ao3 link

My Masterlist ✨

Notes:

Pairing: Zayne x MC/Reader College AU, fluff, banter, silly.

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Movie night has always been a thing you done together. A simple tradition, something to break up the chaos of classes, exams, and everything in between. You and Zayne don’t always have the time for it, but when you do, you go all in—blankets, dimmed lights, a ridiculous amount of snacks.

Tonight’s pick is still up for debate. You’re leaning toward something lighthearted, maybe so-bad-it’s-good, while Zayne just wants something quiet. Either way, you refuse to start without the essentials, which is how you end up in the kitchen, prepping snacks while Zayne makes himself comfortable on the couch.

You catch movement from the corner of your eye—he’s getting up.

“Oh no, you don’t,” you say, pointing a warning finger at him. “Sit your pretty butt down. I got this.”

Zayne pauses mid-motion, tilting his head. “Are you sure?”

“Zayne. This is not cooking. It’s snack prep. You don’t need to supervise me.”

He still doesn’t look convinced, but he humors you, settling back into the couch with an amused hum.

You return to your task, grabbing the knife to cut—wait, what were you doing again? Oh, right. Slicing.

Just as you start, something pops into your head—Oh, that reminds me! You turn mid-slice, already opening your mouth—

“Ow.”

You feel a sharp sting on your finger.

It’s not loud, not dramatic, just a quiet, reflexive noise—but it’s enough.

Zayne’s head snaps toward you. A beat. Then he’s there in an instant, moving so fast you barely have time to blink before he’s right beside you, reaching for your hand.

His fingers are cool against your skin as he takes your wrist, lifting your hand to inspect it. His brows furrow, lips pressing into a firm line as he studies the small cut on your fingertip.

It’s not even that bad—yeah, it stings a little, and yeah, it’s bleeding, but it’s not that deep. Nothing a quick rinse and a band-aid won’t fix.

Zayne, however, looks like you just suffered a grave injury.

“Hold still,” he murmurs, already guiding you toward the sink. His grip is gentle but firm, like he’s afraid you’ll resist, which is ridiculous because you’re not about to argue against basic first aid.

Still, the whole thing is kind of funny.

“Zayne, it’s—”

“You should be more careful.” His voice is low, bordering on reprimanding, but there’s something else underneath it—concern.

That’s when it hits you.

Ohhh. He’s in full doctor mode.

The realization makes you bite back a grin. He’s not just fussing. He’s serious.

You decide to play along.

When he turns the faucet on and holds your finger under the cool water, you let out a dramatic sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Is it bad, doc?”

His shoulders tense, just slightly. “It’s bleeding.”

“Yeah, that’s what happens when you cut yourself.”

He doesn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, he turns off the water, grabs a clean towel, and carefully pats your finger dry.

You peek up at him through your lashes, catching the way his jaw is set, his eyes still locked on the minuscule injury like it’s something critical.

Oh, this is too good.

You sigh again, heavier this time. “I don’t know, Zayne. I feel kind of lightheaded…”

That makes him freeze for a second.

Then he actually looks at you, sharp eyes scanning your face for any sign of distress.

That’s when you lose it.

The giggle slips out before you can stop it, and when his expression shifts—realization dawning—you know you’re doomed.

Zayne just stares, eyes narrowing as realization sinks in.

You can practically see the moment he puts it together—that you’re not actually lightheaded, that you’re absolutely fine, and that you’re messing with him.

“…You’re enjoying this,” he states flatly.

You press your lips together, trying to stifle your grin. “I mean… maybe a little?”

His grip on your wrist tightens just slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you aware that he’s not letting you go.

“Sit.”

You blink. “What?”

“Sit down,” he repeats, already steering you toward the couch. “I need to disinfect it.”

You laugh. “Zayne, come on. It’s tiny. It doesn’t even hurt that much—”

He doesn’t argue. He just looks at you.

That same impassive, unreadable stare.

You know what this means.

It means he’s unwavering. That no matter how much you argue, he’s not letting this go.

The funniest part? He’s not even being dramatic about it. He’s just… determined.

Which only makes it even more hilarious.

Still giggling, you let him push you onto the couch, watching as he disappears into his room. When he returns, he’s got a small first aid kit in hand, his movements precise as he kneels in front of you.

“Alright, doc,” you tease, wiggling your injured finger. “Give it to me straight. Am I gonna make it?”

Zayne doesn’t rise to the bait. He just grabs an antiseptic wipe, rips it open, and says, completely deadpan—

“You’ll live.”

You wheeze.

He doesn’t even blink.

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Notes:

I am the type that laugh at their own joke but even so, this one legit just produce natural wheeze from me ahahahahaha so ofc I was like I need to share this :D

[starsforxavi]

further examination

·······•✦ description: It had been so long - too long - since you had the opportunity for some alone time with your boyfriend, so when he asked for help with an assignment, you became a little too excited. But all you had to do was be a good girl, and he would grant you all your wishes and more.

·······•✦ pairing: zayne x fem!reader ·······•✦ word count: 5.4k ·······•✦ genre: smut, porn with little plot ·······•✦ general tags: Fluff and Smut, Smut. Fluff, Porn with Feelings, Well kinda plot, AU!College/University, Zayne is a med student, fluffy zayne, Body Worship, Medical Kink, Riding, Aftercare, Marking, Kinda possessive Zayne, No Spoilers, no one has an EVOL, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Penis In Vagina Sex, Established Relationship

·······•✦ posted on: ao3

“Okay, so, I just have to sit here and pretend to be sick, right?” You were currently sat at the kitchen island, leaning on your elbows to get a better look at your boyfriend. His white coat fit snugly on his shoulders - if he works out any more, he will have to obtain a more significant size - and you fight everything in you that wants to comment on how hot he looks.

“You’re exactly right, darling. Just sit there and answer my questions like you’re coming into the hospital with an ailment.” Zayne nodded, staring down at his notes. He was utterly oblivious to your gaze, just as he always was. More often than not, you would find your eyes trailing his figure, admiring how handsome he looked.

Humming, you sat back in the chair, your hands falling to your lap. His eyes met yours, and you snapped into your assigned role. The thrill of the roleplay - even if it was just supposed to be innocently helping him practice for an upcoming exam - caused your thighs to rub together.

It had been a while since anything intimate happened between you, and the need you felt for the man in front of you only heightened after seeing him walk through the door to your apartment only half an hour ago. Instead of the enthusiastic response you hoped for, you were met with the smell of delicious food and the question to help him with his clinical for an upcoming exam.

While you did want to jump him right then and there, you relented, placing the food on the counter before digging in. Conversations flowed from exciting things in classes to vocabulary words you learned in your recent readings. That all led to where you sat now, Zayne walking around to your side of the kitchen island, his eyes still reading through whatever was on his clipboard.

Trying to play the part, you sniffled, looking at Zayne through hooded eyes. “Hello, Doctor.” It wasn’t easy getting the hoarse tone to come through but you managed, sinking in your seat. Your skin tingled as Zayne looked up at you, the slight twitch in his eyebrow causing a rush of heat to flow through your body.

“Hello, Miss…” He paused momentarily, looking you up and down before writing something down in his chart. “How are you feeling? What brought you to the hospital today?”

His normally soft voice toward you morphed into something a bit colder. This was the voice he usually used towards patients: gentle and caring but not overly warm. He was a professional; it was his job to help others, not to overstep any boundaries. The unusual shift in his tone sent a shock through you. It was different, but you liked it—you really liked it.

Zayne didn’t tell you exactly what ailment you should pretend to have; after all, he was just practicing general clinicals. It didn’t really matter exactly what it was, just that he followed every protocol on his assignment page and remembered what questions to ask.

So you made something up, the best thing you could think of after sitting there momentarily. Sniffling again, you coughed into your hand, gesturing to your throat. As you tried to speak, your voice came out soft and hoarse, the words cutting off slightly while you coughed once or twice.

“I came down with a nasty cough…” You shivered to make it more realistic, pulling your arms around your body. “And I’ve been really cold, even wearing a sweater.”

Zayne hummed along as you explained, setting his clipboard down and walking toward you. All thoughts of him abandoning his assignment flew out the window as he leaned closer, his hand outstretched. “May I feel your throat?”

After a curt nod, his cold fingers touched the sides of your neck. He brushed over your sensitive spot, causing you to wiggle in his hold. As part of his assignment, he acted like it was causing you pain, and he cleared his throat. Instead of pulling back wholly, his left hand moved to the back of your neck, fingers massaging the muscles to feel how tight they were.

“Any pain or discomfort?” His voice seemed far off as you tilted your head back, pleasure spiking through you as he worked at the knots in your neck. Fighting back a moan, all you could do was nod, and Zayne had to stop entirely so you could come back to reality. “Did that hurt?”

It wouldn’t have been very professional, nor would it have helped him if you flat-out said it felt fucking fantastic, so you nodded slowly, a fake wince causing your nose to scrunch up. “Yes, Doctor. It hurt more on the sides of my neck.”

The stethoscope that hung around his neck was pulled free, his hands positioning the earpieces before he looked up again. His jaw was clenched tight, and the effect you had on him made it very clear how he was hanging on a thread. It took everything in him not to abandon his assignment, but he persisted. After all, he prided himself on his amazing self-control.

Moving around behind you, his hand played with the edge of your shirt. “May I check your heartbeat?” This wasn’t in the assignment, not the teasing at your shirt or gently caressing your lower back.

“Yes, you can,” You gasped when the cold instrument pressed into your back. A chuckle fell from your lips as you looked over your shoulder. “But you may find my heartbeat is faster than normal, Doctor.”

It was minimal, the way he pressed the bell of the stethoscope against your back just a little harder. Or how his jaw tightened for a split second before returning to normal. He knew the effect he had on you just as much as you knew your impact on him. A mutual respect for how you had each other weak in the knees.

“Handsome men just have that effect on me, I guess.” Deciding to play it a little more daring, you pressed the limits. This was an assignment, yes. Yet the excitement and need grew in you as you played the patient, only causing heat to build between your thighs.

The feeling of the stethoscope on your back disappeared, and Zayne’s stoic face came into view, his eyebrows knitted together. “Calm down, darling. Just help me finish this assignment.” He picked up his clipboard again, his fingers noticeably clutching the pen a little too tight as he scribbled down notes. “You’re lucky they didn’t make me film it this time.”

His statement caused you to suck your bottom lip into your mouth. How hot. Though the topic of people watching you never came up, you could assume it would be a hard no from your boyfriend. He was gentle, but he rarely kissed you outside of your apartment or his office. Having others around meant having a hand on your waist or holding your hand, and that was it.

“I just need your help, Doctor.” Every time you used that word, Zayne’s left eye twitched slightly. To the average person, it wouldn’t be noticeable, but you - who had been in a relationship with him for two years now - could pick up on these things. “It really, really hurts.”

Another clench of his jaw, and you knew he was close to giving in. It had been a few weeks, the need in yourself almost certainly mirroring his own. Even though he was better at hiding it, there wasn’t much he could get past you. The lingering touches as he left for class in the morning or the strangled sigh that fell from his lips when he caught you for a few moments between exams. The kisses always seemed the best, the heightened awareness of the deadlines you both faced only causing excitement to spark between you.

“I can only help you if you play along, darling.” He looked up from his paper to lock eyes with you, the pleading look on your face making his cock jump in his black slacks. “Only a few more assessments, and I’ll take care of you. Just be a good girl for me.”

He knew just how to make you listen to him, and he fought a grin as your back straightened up. Another cough was forced out, and he shook himself mentally, pulling himself back into his role. Your skin prickled, and your nerves were on edge as he gently grabbed your wrist, his two fingers pressing into your pulse point.

“Let me just check your pulse,” He continued, keeping an eye on his watch as he silently counted the beats. It was deafening, the silence that pushed in on you. Your heart rate sped up as your eyes scanned his face, down his neck, all the way to his black slacks. Unfortunately, you couldn’t catch a glimpse, but if his tells were giving you anything, you could bet he was at least slightly turned on.

After a minute passed, he released your wrist, moving back to write some numbers on the page. He pulled a flashlight from his pocket, gesturing to your throat. “I’m just going to check your throat. Say ‘Ah’ for me, please.”

The light flashed as you opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue. It brought back memories of tasting Zayne’s seed as it spilled all over your lips, licking up the remnants that didn’t land in your mouth. Zayne seemed to think the same thing because he cleared his throat, looking around for most likely nothing. Your throat felt fine.

The silence was interrupted by the click of the flashlight turning off, his eyes meeting yours before he looked back at his clipboard for one final time. He spent a minute writing until he moved his attention to you. “All finished, Miss. I will prescribe some medicine, and you should feel better in a day or two.”

“Is there anything you could give me now to help me feel better?” Batting your eyelashes at him, you placed your hand on his chest. On instinct, he stepped closer, his hips fitting perfectly between your open thighs. His hands held your hips gently, fingers threatening to dip under your shirt.

“Hm.” He pretended to think, his eyes trailing over your face before his nose brushed yours. “I know a thing or two that could help alleviate the pain, but we need to have you lying down so I can treat you.”

With a tug, you wrapped your legs around his waist, a slight noise falling past your lips as he hoisted you up. His hands cradled your ass, giving it a few squeezes as he walked toward your shared bedroom. Warm breath spread across his skin, and he shivered, his cock now straining in his pants as he thought of all the time he had to make up for not being with you.

Zayne set you on the bed, ensuring a pillow was under your head. Playing along, you looked up at him, crossing your hands over your stomach as you awaited his next move. That next move consisted of tugging his white coat off and unbuttoning the top three buttons of his shirt. Heat radiated from him, and the need to just take everything off almost overwhelmed him, but he held it in. He wanted to take his time with you.

“I think that I need to assess more of your body.” His hand held your ankle gingerly, pressing a kiss to your shin before trailing his eyes up your body. “Let me know if anything hurts.”

Zayne let his fingers massage your ankle, feeling the muscles loosen. Pleasure rocketed through your body, and you moaned, eyes closing automatically. The feeling stopped as you shut your eyes, Zayne’s fingers halting their movements.

When you finally looked back at him, he had moved to your calf, doing the same ministrations. The same feeling shot through you, and the same moan fell from your lips. Next came your thighs; both of his hands were now going to work. Zayne always commented how he loved your thighs, and it seemed that he spent more time on them as he worked. The tips of his fingers got oh so close to your core, teasing you with the ghost of touch when he worked his way up to your stomach.

“Doctor.” You sighed, his fingers walking up your navel and into the valley of your breasts underneath your shirt. Goosebumps appeared on your skin, and if this was the effect he had when you were dressed, you couldn’t imagine what it would feel like when you were both finally bare.

His hand cradled your neck, similar to before but more gentle, more desperate, and more Zayne. Not Doctor Zayne, but your boyfriend Zayne, who just wanted to give you a treat for behaving and helping him with an important assignment.

“It’s just Zayne now, darling.” His voice was just above a whisper as he leaned down, lips ghosting over yours for a second. You could feel his breath on your face, and you tilted your head up, pressing a soft kiss on his awaiting lips.

Then, it was like a dam broke. The moment you kissed him, his hand pulled you to meet his lips again. Every muscle in your body relaxed, and your nerves stood on end as he kissed you, his tongue poking at your bottom lip. A breath he didn’t know he was holding escaped into your open mouth as your tongues met for the first time in a while.

“Zayne,” It had been a while since you whispered his name like that, and he had to pause, his resolve dwindling until almost nothing was left. “Please just touch me.”

A chuckle brushed against your lips, the statement hanging in the air as he pulled back. Fingers deftly pulled the buttons of his shirt from their hold, the fabric coming untucked from his slacks and falling to the floor in record time. Instead of taking off the piece of clothing you wanted, he climbed onto the bed.

“Your wish is my command, darling.” His hands pushed your shirt over your head, one trailing behind your back to unclasp your bra. Quickly, he unbuttoned your shorts and pulled them down your legs; much to your dismay, he kept your underwear on. But he often chose to leave them on until he was ready, and obviously, he wasn’t ready yet. It took him a moment of admiring your body, memorizing every dip and curve in your skin, both with his sight and his touch, before he spoke again. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

His thumbs brushed across your nipples, the ridges and peaks becoming extra sensitive both from the lack of contact and the sudden cold air. Leaning down, he took one nipple into his mouth, the warm contrast causing you to arch your back, pressing your chest further into him. His tongue worked wanders, circling and flicking as he listened to your moans becoming higher and sharper in sound.

For a moment, his teeth scratched against your skin, and you gasped, the mixture of pain and pleasure causing heat to rush to your lower half. At the sound of your gasp, Zayne pulled away, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort. “I’m okay. It hurt a tiny bit…” You paused for a moment, biting your lip. “But I kinda liked it.”

Zayne nodded, cataloging that in his memory for the future. Even after two years together, he still liked to try new things to see your reaction to them. “Well, why don’t we try it on the other one?” Before he leaned down again, he whispered, his breath on your nipple causing you to twitch slightly. “Just tell me if the pain is too much, darling.”

As he dove back down, it took everything in you not to moan too loud. Your apartment walls were only so thick, and if you weren’t careful, another noise complaint would come your way in the morning. It was hard, however. The way his tongue flicked across the ridges around your nipple before finally teasing the most sensitive nub caused arousal to dampen your underwear further.

“Zayne,” You pleaded. The sensations were almost too much. No matter how many times you were intimate, the pleasure amounted to nothing anyone else could have given you. You were sure you had found your person, and you intended to keep him close. Close enough that your fingers threaded in his hair, caught between wanting to pull him closer and push him away.

Almost as if he could read the thoughts that spun in your mind, a smirk grew on his lips, causing cold air to seep in and sting against your damp skin. He pulled away just enough to trail his lips down your body, sucking a mark into the skin above your right hip. His eyes trailed up to meet yours, his arousal growing as he saw the effect he had on you. More than anything, he adored seeing just how much pleasure he could bring you.

The lamp on your bedside table cast a shadow on one side of his face, the lighting causing a sparkle in his left eye. His nose nuzzled into the inside of your thigh, just below your underwear. Warmth fanned over your core as he breathed out in a sigh, his tongue teasing the plush skin before he sucked another mark. His second one of the night, yet he so desperately wanted to stake his claim on every inch he could reach. It wasn’t that he was a possessive man, but he yearned to be remembered, and a surefire way to do that would be to make marks that you would see for days to come.

“Zayne,” Once again, his name fell from your lips like a mantra, a prayer to whatever deity above brought this man into your life. Except maybe it wasn’t a celestial being… Perhaps it was just fate that decided you two belong together.

“I need more words than just my name, darling.” He purposefully blew air against your core, his cock straining in his pants when he saw the damp spot that was beginning to form. “Although I must admit, I really love hearing you say my name like that.” A smack echoed through the air as he lightly snapped the band of your underwear against your skin. “Like you’re desperate, pleading, needy.”

“Please, I need you.” Your hand returned to his hair, gently stroking the locks. “Please, Zayne.”

A satisfied hum rumbled through his chest, and he decided that his own need to have his face buried between your thighs and the way you begged for him were enough. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear, and he slowly sat up on his knees, pulling the piece of fabric all the way down until it was flung onto the floor.

“There you go, good girl.” His hands trailed from your ankles to your thighs, spreading them apart even farther. Taking in your arousal that glistened in the minuscule light that shone from the lamp, he smiled from his place between your thighs. “I think… You need further examination.”

After he spoke, his tongue licked a long stripe up your pussy, collecting your arousal. His hips met the bed, grinding against it for a moment of reprieve before diving back in. Cold air tickled your skin as he spread your lips, the warmth of his tongue immediately following. He memorized every inch of you; a catalog of every noise or face you ever made to every mark on your body was tucked away in his mind.

When he finally ventured up to flick his tongue against your clit, you jerked your hips up, a spark igniting in your lower belly. With a low moan, you tilted your head back against the pillow, a louder noise falling from your lips as he suctioned his lips around your sensitive spot. The thumbs that were spreading you open pulled back, one of his hands quickly moving to tease a finger around your entrance.

“So beautiful,” Zayne commented before sucking on your clit again, pulling back with a pop. “Are you ready for me, darling?”

You nodded quickly before opening your mouth, knowing exactly what he wanted. “Yes,” Your voice came out more like a whine, and you wiggled your hips. “I’m always ready for you.”

His resolve broke momentarily, the way he sucked in a sharp breath or his hips ground into the bed beneath him. Even through the veil of pleasure, you caught the minuscule tells. You saw the reactions and tugged lightly at his hair, causing him to look up at you.

“Who am I to deny you, then.” Gently, he pressed his index finger into you, eyes focused on how your walls welcomed him in. It had been too long since he felt that, felt the warmth surrounding him, and he slowly pulled all the way out before easing back in. Your tight hole offered slight resistance as he pushed in, but as he continued licking and sucking at your clit your arousal helped his gradual thrusting.

“There you go, darling.” The rush he got as he ate you out was unlike anything he ever experienced before. If he could spend eternity between your legs, he absolutely would. His straining cock was an afterthought as he listened to your moans pick up in speed and volume. “I’m going to add another one.”

His middle finger made the intrusion turn into a beautifully tight stretch as he spoke, your grip on him only causing shockwaves to run to the tips of your toes. Once up to his knuckles, he curled his fingers, trying it a few times until he felt your fingers tighten and tug at his hair.

“Zayne, oh my god, right there!” Your thighs threatened to close around his head, and if these were Zayne’s last moments, he would be the happiest man on Earth. However, to prolong his life, his left hand wrapped around your thigh and pulled, spreading you back out for him.

He kept going, stroking that spot over and over. His hair could always grow back, and there wasn’t anything that he wouldn’t endure to hear your orgasm run through you. With each thrust and press against the squishy spot, your back arched, and your nerves built higher and higher.

Out of nowhere, the height reached its peak and avalanched back to Earth, your orgasm washing over you like snow barreling down a mountain. It was intense and prolonged by the gentle licks Zayne delivered to your clit. After you were buried under inches of snow, you pushed Zayne’s head away, overstimulation beginning to prick at the edges of your vision.

Heavy breaths mingled together as Zayne trailed his lips back up your body. A line of wet kisses followed until he finally reached your mouth, where you tasted your orgasm on his tongue. His fingers left, and an emptiness filled their place. While he was inches away from your lips, he sucked his fingers into his mouth, collecting the slick that was still there.

He felt drunk, his senses dull, and his need growing. Insatiable hunger grew in him, and he very nearly dove back down for seconds, but he was cut off from that thought by your hands tugging at his belt. His stomach tensed as he felt your fingertips against his skin, teasing the buckle as you tried to remove it.

“Go ahead, darling. Take them off for me.” His voice lowered to a whisper, and his eyes trained on your hands. Your beautiful fingers finally pulled his belt from their loops. It rattled to the ground as you immediately went to work on his slacks. A simple button and zipper before you were pushing them down his thighs. “Let me do the rest.”

Standing up, Zayne hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his briefs, pulling them down along with the rest of his slacks. His thighs tensed as his cock stood, impossibly hard and aching. Kicking them off, he stood there for a moment, a shiver and goosebumps ripping through him as your eyes trailed up and down his body before landing on his cock.

“Lay down.” You started, sitting on your knees and holding out a hand to him. “I think that you need to be examined too.”

A smile curved on his lips as he sat down, his thighs slightly spread and welcoming you. His head tilted towards you, and his hand cupped your chin, pulling you in so your lips were centimeters apart. “Don’t need your mouth, darling.” A soft kiss enveloped you, and he grabbed your hips, sitting you down on his lap. He pulled you down so you ground your wet pussy against his cock, emphasizing his words with a low groan. “I need your perfect pussy wrapped around my cock, right now.” A pause. “Please, darling.”

He didn’t try to hide the need that dripped at the edges of his words, making exactly what he so desperately desired abundantly clear. You. Always and forever you. Nothing else in this world could satisfy him like the sight of you sitting so beautifully in his lap, your body all his to worship.

Giving in to his pleas, you lift your hips, stroking his shaft a few times just to tease him. It wasn’t until a low growl rumbled through his chest that you fulfilled his desire, lining him up with your entrance and slowly lowering down. The stretch was delicious, his thumbs massaging your hips as he guided you.

Once you were sat fully down, you both shared a breath, eyes locking with each other. Time paused; the only sensations you felt were his warm cock buried fully inside you and the gentle rubbing of his thumbs on your hips. To others, being the recipient of Zayne’s intense stare would be intimidating, yet to you, it only brought comfort and the feeling of being loved unconditionally.

“Stunning,” His voice was just a whisper against your skin as he tucked his face into your neck. For a few seconds, the only sounds were your sharp breaths and the light sucking as Zayne made another mark, this one just above your collarbone.

His hands massaged your ass, pulling you apart to rock yourself on him gently. It was a slow pleasure that began building as you ground on him, his fingers gripping your flesh like at any moment you would melt. Each movement caused his curved cock to rub against your walls, his tip pressing into your sensitive spot.

“Go ahead, darling.” The rocking didn’t stop, but Zayne’s hands moved to your hips, no longer guiding you but playing a more passive role. His lips were pulled into a smirk as he leaned back onto the headboard, eyebrow raised slightly as he took in the sight where you were connected. Your arousal dripped down his shaft and would surely ruin the sheets, but all he could think of was the warmth around him and the sight before him. “Grind on me, fuck yourself on my cock.”

Raising so only his tip was still nestled inside you, the emptiness was short-lived, your body missing the feeling and chasing it. The bed creaked slightly each time you brought yourself down, his cock hitting places that neither his nor your fingers could reach.

Need bubbled up inside you as you chased your high, your walls stretching around him each time you fully sat down. Grinding your clit into his bare pubic bone, a loud moan escaped you when you felt him thrust up into you. His own groans fell from his lips as you clenched around him, threatening to suck him dry. And it was all he wanted, to be sucked dry and entirely used by you.

“Zayne…” Your hands rested on his chest as you let the man below you chase his orgasm. It wouldn’t take much longer for you to come, and you wanted to reach it together. “I’m so close.”

“I- I know, darling.” His voice caught in his throat, head leaning back against the headboard and eyes closing momentarily. A small wrinkle formed between his eyebrows as he scrunched them together, his own pleasure amounting to something uncontrollable. “Me too.”

Thrusts became more erratic, and you let your body chase his hips, the smack of his pelvis on your clit sending shockwaves through you. It became too much; your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you tried to quiet your moans. But you couldn’t hold back. It was hard to hold back when Zayne was fucking up into you so perfectly that nothing could come close to the euphoria that washed over you.

“Come for me,” Zayne strained his voice, his hands gripping your hips so tightly that they would probably bruise in the morning. But that’s okay. He would always trail kisses along the marks he made, ensuring that he didn’t actually hurt you. “I need you to be a good girl and come for me.”

Nearly slamming you down onto him, the avalanche fell once again, burying you in indescribable pleasure for the second time that night. Except this was more intense, your hands and feet prickling with the sense of hypothermia. Your vision almost went white as you felt Zayne’s cum filling you. It was too much, his seed escaping from your hole and coating his cock in your mixed releases.

Cool air settled on your sweaty bodies as you sat there, his softening cock still deep inside you. Gently, Zayne pulled you off him and set you on the bed. He knew that you would want to cuddle, and he absolutely could not fall asleep on soiled sheets. While you finished coming down from the peak, Zayne turned the warm water on, setting a washcloth and body soap on the side of the tub.

Once it was complete, he shut it off, returning to the room to find your eyes closed and chest rising and falling consistently. He never liked waking you up, especially when you looked so beautiful under the lamp's soft glow.

“Darling, I ran a bath for us.” His arms cradled you, picking you up and walking the few steps into the master bathroom. While you relaxed, your eyes finally opened, and you took in the change in surroundings.

Zayne changed the sheets in nearly record time, and the need to be back in your presence was so high that he almost couldn’t take it. As soon as he was done, he walked back into the bathroom, settling into the space behind you. With the washcloth and body soap, he lathered your body, taking special care not to tease your sensitive nipples or clit too much. Relaxing in his arms, you leaned your head against his shoulder, eyes closing and body welcoming his loving touch.

His hands wandered up and down your thighs to the plush skin of your stomach, finally caressing the few marks that littered your neck and shoulders. A breath fanned across your skin as Zayne leaned down, soft kisses pressed to each mark. Though the water was warm, a shiver ran through you.

“Did I hurt you?” His voice was nearly silent, words meant for your ears and your ears only. Only a shake of your head was there to answer him. Sure, they would sting slightly for a few days, but the following pleasure was worth it.

“No, you didn’t.” You turned your head, kissing his jaw. “You were perfect.”

A small smile graced his lips as he wrapped his arms around your waist, enjoying the moment between you. These came few and far between now that he was so busy with school, but when the time did come, he never wanted to let go. He tried his best to satisfy you, make sure you didn’t decide you could find someone else who could give you more. But he didn’t know that you looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky, that you knew no matter how busy he was, he would always make time for you, and that there was no one else in this world you would rather be with.

“Thank you… For helping me with my assignment… For everything.” He countered, pulling you impossibly closer to him. “You’re always perfect.”

© starsforxavi

[seongwars]

more lads dad!au because dad!zayne and dad!caleb beef would be hilarious. spinoff from this drabble

The thing about heart surgeons was that they spent years in medical school, training relentlessly to save lives. But despite Zayne’s expertise, the one thing he couldn’t mend was his four-year-old daughter’s broken heart.

“Elsa, sweetheart, why are you crying?” he asked, crouching to her level as she hiccuped between sniffles.

“Because Archer doesn’t want to be married to me anymore,” Elsa sobbed, rubbing her fists against her red-rimmed eyes. 

“He said he likes Cece.”

Oh. His heart.

His daughter was barely out of preschool, and she was already experiencing the crushing weight of betrayal. While he remained calm on the outside, Zayne was seething on the inside. How dare this boy break his daughter’s heart? Who did he think he was?

“Archer?” 

“Caleb’s son,” you chimed in from the doorway, setting Elsa’s backpack down on its hook.

Oh. It all made sense now.

There were rumors that Caleb had been Mr. Popular back in high school, then again in college, and even at the academy. The kind of guy who could walk into a room and instantly become the center of attention, effortlessly drawing in mobs of adoring fangirls. His son, apparently, had inherited those same infuriatingly charming qualities.

Zayne clenched his jaw. No one, not even another four-year-old, was going to trample on his baby’s feelings and walk away unscathed. He turned back to Elsa, brushing a damp strand of hair from her cheek.

“Sweetheart, listen to me,” Zayne said gently, wiping away the last of Elsa’s tears with his thumb. “You don’t need to be married to Archer. You’re the most brilliant, kind, and incredible little girl in the whole world.”

Elsa sniffled. “Really?”

“Absolutely. Now, let me ask you something: does Archer know medical terminology?”

Elsa frowned, thinking hard. “No,” she admitted, shaking her head.

Zayne gasped dramatically. “See? That right there is a red flag, sweetheart. You’re already smarter than him! Do you know how many medical words you know?”

Elsa sniffled again, but a tiny smile started forming. “A lot.”

“That’s right! And what’s the big one you learned last week?”

“Myocardial infarction!”

Zayne’s eyes widened in exaggerated amazement. “That’s incredible! Now, tell me, does Archer know what a myocardial infarction is?”

Your daughter scrunched up her nose, thinking. Then she clapped her hands. “No!”

“Sweetheart, how could you possibly be married to someone who doesn’t even know what that is?”

Elsa giggled, wiping at her damp cheeks.

“What other big words do you know?” Zayne encouraged, leaning in.

She tapped a finger against her chin before her face lit up. “Hippocampus!”

“That’s my girl!” Zayne grinned, nodding approvingly. “Anything else?”

Elsa’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “Gluteus maximus!”

She giggled so hard at the meaning of gluteus maximus that she nearly toppled over, but Zayne caught her just in time, lifting her up and pressing a kiss to her forehead. Just minutes ago, she had been devastated over some preschool betrayal, and now she was giggling about medical jargon like the brilliant little girl she was.

It was far better than pining over a boy who didn’t even know what a myocardial infarction was.

☾⋆

“Hey, I saw Zayne today at drop-off, and he was squinting at me the whole time,” Caleb said, pulling Eden out of his high chair.

“Huh. Did he have his glasses on?” his wife asked, refilling Stella’s sippy cup. 

Caleb furrowed his brow. “Now that I think about it…no, he didn’t. Oh! That makes so much sense! I waved at him, like, three times, but he just kept squinting. Poor guy was probably struggling to see without them.”

Cece - Sylus' daughter Eden & Stella - Caleb's twins

[xinnn6]

was saying goodnight to zayne and his smile is so sweet ⁉️ god, i really love this man so much 😩

[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!

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