#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

[espace--positif]

Mornings With Him

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh no. It’s almost six.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Deal.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And the buffet closes at 10:30.”

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

“Buffet?”

“That’s right.”

“What’s the pastry situation?”

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

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

You gulp.

“And eggs?”

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

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

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

[lemonlover1110]

𝐎𝐝𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

Zayne

Pairing: Zayne x f!Reader

Summary: Zayne wants to fulfill your odd request.

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

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure you want a baby?”

You chuckle.

“I’m sure I’m already pregnant.”

[hitoshitoshi]

Hair Washing [Husband!Zayne x GenderNeutral!Reader]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you.”

“I love you most”.

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

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

If you like otome games, including Love and Deepspace, you should join Linkon Lounge! A discord server that's LGBTQ+ friendly (only serving those who are 18+) where we all can share our interests, talk to roleplaying bots (Caleb, Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, and Sylus), and have fun game, movie, and stream nights where we stream games and/or cards that we pulled that others want to see. It would be super fun to have you as a member of our server.

Click here to join Linkon Lounge!

Masterlist

[hesperisms]

Folks, I'm so cooked...this new quad reveal is unravelling my DNA.

HE LOOKS SO SOFT.

I already have so many ideas based on this reveal trailer of Sylus and Zayne!

DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON ZAYNE BITING AND LICKING US.

[kykyonthemoon]

Under The Weather

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

── .✦ Zayne x Female Reader|MC

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

♡︎. Word count: ~1k

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

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

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

You had stood Zayne up.

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

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

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

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

“Huh?… Didn't you watch it?”

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

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

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

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

“I did make a call.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Zayne met your determined gaze. He smiled softly. 

“Heal me then, Doc-tor.”

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

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

You grimaced before giving his knuckles a tender kiss. 

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

[blaire-apricity]

LADS Plushies

ʟᴀᴅs ʙᴏʏs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᯓ❅ ┆ 𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ┆ : 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘓𝘈𝘋𝘚 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦�� 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘔𝘊?

ᯓ❅ ┆ 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 ┆ : 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 & 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘖𝘖𝘊

─────────────── ˗ˏˋ ❅｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽ ˎˊ˗ ────────────────

𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫

The first thing Xavier does is gawk at it, blinking in surprise. He turns the plushie over with care, examining every detail of the creature that so closely resembles you.

He starts poking its cheek, imagining it's your own, a small playful smile tugging at his lips. His eyes light up, filled with tender amusement.

Passersby notice his expression—an uncharacteristically satisfied and innocent smile gracing his face—as he gazes at the plushie.

He looks like a child who has opened their Christmas present early, filled with pure contentment.

Xavier takes the plushie everywhere with him, unable to bear being apart from it.

Instinctively, he holds it close, his protective instincts kicking in as if the plushie were the real you.

He might even tuck it into his pocket as he scouts new places or hunts for Wanderers, a small but significant token of comfort.

The plushie reminds him so much of you, making him feel as if you were with him at all times.

The best part is how soft and fluffy the plushie is, like a miniature pillow. He often rests his head on it, finding comfort in the softness.

As he lies down, he imagines it is your lap beneath him, a peaceful and soothing thought.

He definitely brags about it to Jeremiah.

"Look, it's Y/n," he says, with the plushie perched proudly on his head.

𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞

Normally, Zayne doesn't care for plushies, nor does he like to keep one.

Unless, of course, it is from you. Or, more specifically, if it is you in a miniature fluff form.

With his usual aloof and cold demeanor, he examines the plushie, gripping it with one hand, a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

Unlike Xavier, he doesn't carry it with him everywhere.

But the plushie always has a place in his office, a silent but constant presence.

Sitting alone at his desk, Zayne sighs, massaging his temples as he finishes surgery after surgery, glancing at the plushie of you seated on his table.

'Well, it’s like having her in pocket-size. Cute,' he thinks to himself, a rare softness in his words.

𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐥

Rafayel immediately takes several photos of the plushie, capturing its likeness from every angle.

Feeling inspired by this miniature work of art, he might sketch or paint it, blending his artistic talents with his affection.

He proudly shows it off, exclaiming, "It's Miss Bodyguard in plushie form!"

As he works on his latest masterpiece, he places the plushie somewhere prominent, ensuring it is always in his line of sight.

Talking to it as if it were the real you, he shares his thoughts and ideas, finding comfort in the imagined conversations.

He doesn't feel odd about this; heck, he’s quite proud of his little confidant.

Thomas might overhear him and think, "Maybe it's a normal artist thing," shrugging off Rafayel's eccentricities.

He definitely calls you, plushie in hand, the excitement evident in his voice. "Y'know, I'd rather have the real thing, but this is a close second."

·❆　　　❆　❅　　　　•　　　　.　　　　　❆❆• 　·　.　　　❅

ᴍᴀɴɢᴀ: ᴋɪᴍɪ ɴɪ ᴀɪsᴀʀᴇᴛᴇ ɪᴛᴀᴋᴀᴛᴛᴀ

𝐴𝑢𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑟'𝑠 𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑒: 𝐶𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑦 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑏𝑖𝑎𝑠𝑒𝑑. 𝐻𝐴𝐻𝐴, 𝐼 𝑎𝑝𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑖𝑧𝑒. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒'𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑦 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑂𝑂𝐶 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑍𝑎𝑦𝑛𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑅𝑎𝑓𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑙, 𝐼'𝑚 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑛 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼'𝑚 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑒.

[shouyuus]

Hi hi I saw Zayne’s secret times for affinity 145 and I can’t stop thinking about him calling us “good girl” asdfljwkjwj so I have a suggestion for a smut with praise and just lots of love!!! This could be for your 30 event but it’s just a suggestion you can save for later maybe <3

30 under 30 bday event! (now closed!)

乖猫 (good kitty)

zayne; smut/fluff; i have... so much to say about zayne calling mc/reader "乖" u have NO IDEA

─── 黎深 “GOOD GIRL”, the words simmer through you like pale fire, sending tingles ricocheting up and down your spine, right into the tips of your fingers and toes. And with eyes like his, it’s impossible to think that he might’ve missed the way you’d stiffened, before going silken in his arms.

Zayne’s eyebrows quirk, his eyes shining like pearls in the new-moon dark.

You whine as he cocks his head, his hips stilling as he stares down at you.

“Z-Zayne —” you squirm, squeezing down around him as you flex your thighs on either side of his hips, jerking your hips up to simulate something close to the friction of his cock dragging inside you. It’s not enough, but it still makes his breath hitch and he chuckles nodding.

“A-alright… message received —” he lets out a breath before thrusting back into you, your head tilting back as your nails dig into his shoulders. “You’re being such a good girl for me…” he bends down to whisper by your hear, making your eyes flutter shut with the pleasure, a gasp tearing itself from your throat.

“Mm… so that’s it…” he says, pulling back slightly, even as you bite your lips and try your best to frown. It’s difficult, what with him fucking his cock into you like he is, deep and slow and determined.

“I — I don’t know what you’re talking a-about — ah —” your breath catches as he shifts back to adjust his angle, rubbing his thumbs in soothing circles around your hipbones before tugging you halfway down the bed to fold you in half.

He leans down to trail his lips along your collarbones, “You’re a good girl… but not a very good liar, hm?”

final wc: 298 || be part of my taglist!

taglist: @yaoduriaa @queen-serena88 @stunies @simpingdailyforthem

[entwined-fxte]

never let go.

a/n: listen i know i just wrote nightmare trope on my other blog but this is for my fragmented dreams fans (it's me i'm the fan). also BIG shoutout to that anon a few days ago cause i wasn't feeling motivated until i saw that in my inbox anon u are my whole world

content: soothing a certain doctor after a hard night.

WARNINGS: brief depictions of a nightmare (zayne's pov)

zayne × gen!reader (you/your).

fluff + comfort.

it was hard to see zayne like this. already exhausted from long nights of risky procedures, he could barely get any rest from his nightmare plagued mind. day after day, you saw the fatigue building up, his eyes dull no matter what he did. you decided you'd seen enough, and if anything, you were sure that he'd had enough as well.

luckily, it wasn't hard to get zayne to accept an invitation to stay overnight at your place. perhaps it was the tiredness that made his mind bleary, having him say yes before he even realised. or perhaps it was the idea of having you around him; sleep wasn't easy whether he was alone or with someone else, but zayne couldn't deny that you being close soothed his mind ever so slightly.

“ready to go home?” you poked your head through his office door, catching a glimpse of a the tail end of a yawn.

zayne turned his head to look at you, gaze foggy as he tried to process it all. he gave a low hum in return, pushing his chair back to give him room to stand up. “you're earlier than i thought you'd be.”

you slipped through the doorway, shutting it behind you with your foot as you made your way in. “i cleared the wanderer zone pretty quickly. after all, i'm a really good hunter,” you laughed, setting your backpack down on the ground to stretch.

“really now?” the corners of zayne's mouth curled up in amusement. you wondered when the last time he really smiled was. he stifled another yawn as he hung his lab coat up, exchanging it for a grey cardigan. “let's get going.”

you ordered delivery to your apartment while zayne drove back to your place. the silence was comforting, and yet, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more going on in zayne's mind that he let on. as you stepped out of the car, you shot the doctor a worried look. “i know you're usually not talkative, but is there something that's bothering you?”

zayne said nothing, instead shrugging his bag onto his shoulder and nodding towards your building. although quiet, you were certain you heard him whisper a low “later,” as he locked the car doors and headed off.

the delivery man caught you just before you closed your front door, handing the bag off to you before scuttling away. the sight made you laugh, and to your delight, zayne was also chuckling under his breath. after a moment, you shuffled him inside, setting the food down on the counter and your bag next to the couch. “you shower first, zayne. i'm gonna make some tea first.”

“sure.” with muffled steps, zayne disappeared into the washroom, leaving you to your own devices. it wasn't long before there were two cups of tea on the counter, and you carefully sipped yours while waiting for zayne to finish. he was silent when he came out; you didn't realise he had finished until you felt his arms wrap around your waist and his nose bury into your hair. you placed a hand on top of his, ghosting over the backs of his knuckles as he spoke. “you’re warm.”

“mmhmm. and as per usual, you're freezing.” you craned your neck up to look at him, reaching up with your other hand to trace his jawline. “here’s your tea. you can go ahead and start eating if you're hungry, too. i should freshen up.” zayne made a quiet sound of affirmation, slowly releasing you from his grasp while you shifted off your chair. a part of you hurt to leave him like that, but you figured that the sooner you could finish your night routine, the better.

you came out of the shower not long after, padding back into the living room to find zayne sitting comfortably on your couch with a book open. “zayne,” you called softly, waiting for him to turn his head up at you. when he did, you grabbed at the spine of the book, folding it closed before taking it away from him. “i invited you over to take it easy, not to read the medical journals you snuck back with you. did you even eat anything?”

zayne hummed in response, as he always did. “yes. i set aside your favourites already.”

“that wasn’t exactly necessary,” you mumbled. “anyways, it’s getting late. aren’t you tired?”

he placed the book down on the coffee table, shoulders slouching as he leaned forward. “it’s nothing more than usual.”

“liar.” with your lips pressed into a thin line, you leaned down towards the raven haired man, poking at his forehead accusingly. “you actually look even worse than usual.”

“how kind of you.” you tapped at his forehead a few more times, only stopping when zayne took your hand in his and pulled it down. you could hardly feel the way his fingers tightened around yours, but his expression gave him away.

with a sigh, you took your free hand and ran it through his hair. “come on. if i can protect linkon city from wanderers, i think i can protect you while you’re asleep.”

in a rare moment of vulnerability, zayne pressed further into your palm, exhaling softly as he did. “then i suppose we can give it a shot.”

cheering internally, you couldn't help the smile that creeped onto your face. the hand that zayne had trapped in his began to pull him up from the couch, waiting until he was steady on his feet before leading him to your bedroom. once inside, you crawled on top of the mattress, never once letting go of him as he followed suit. the last remaining traces of the sunset glow slowly disappeared from sight, leaving your bedroom under the gentle cascade of moonlight. you let go of zayne for a second to hop off the bed again, switching off the ceiling light and then returning to lay down next to him.

a low chuckle sounded from his chest as you bounced in your spot. “well? what's your great plan this time?”

“the plan is to wait until you fall asleep.”

“and do you expect that to happen soon?”

“i do.” you adjusted yourself onto your side. with some effort, you threw the blanket over yourself and zayne, burrowing your body in for a brief second before stretching out and beckoning to him. “come here.” zayne didn’t bother with a response, only giving you an unreadable look. but after a few seconds, zayne resigned, bringing himself towards you. you couldn’t help but give him an exasperated look when he stopped further from you than you wanted. “closer,” you murmured, sliding an arm around his waist and tugging him in. “i can’t hold you if you’re so far away.”

a sigh slipped past his lips. yet despite the way he sounded annoyed, zayne accepted the invitation, tucking his head down into the dip of your shoulder as he wound his arms around you. legs became tangled in seconds, and you could’ve sworn you felt him sigh in relief when you started carding your hand through his hair. “so your plan is to make sure i can’t run away,” zayne hummed against your skin. you laughed at the accusation, and for a fleeting second, zayne felt like the sound could heal him from anything.

“i might as well try to keep you from working.” were it possible, you would have pulled him closer. instead, you settled by pressing your lips to the crown of his head. “sleep, zayne. i won’t let go.”

the words echoed in his mind, resonated in his heart; but the next time he opened his eyes, there was only an empty space next to him. “y/n?” panic rooted in his chest, sitting upright to find nothing but silence. zayne climbed off the bed, fear driving him to look through the windows. outside, wanderers flooded the streets, turning it into a sea of black. for a moment, zayne caught a familiar face; and he could do nothing but watch as you were drowned in the abyss.

you kept stroking up and down his back rhythmically, attempting to soothe zayne’s restless movement. eventually, his eyes flew open, gaze misty as he suddenly gripped onto you. you waited until his breathing steadied, continuing to draw circles into his skin even after he had calmed. “another nightmare?”

zayne exhaled deeply, turning his face down so he could press his forehead against your collarbone. “you didn’t let go.”

your other hand returned to his head, playing with the hair at the base of his neck. “i told you i wouldn’t.” the way zayne shivered didn’t go unnoticed. unsure if it was the cold or his fear, you tightened the blanket around the both of you as best you could. “go back to sleep. it hasn’t even been two hours.”

zayne spoke again, barely audible. “will you let go?” and then he felt your chin, gently moving side to side across his head.

“not in a million lifetimes.”

silence fell like snow, with only the sound of your intertwined breathing filling the room. with a final sigh, zayne closed his eyes and pressed himself into you, searing your warmth into his soul as if it were the last time he could.

and this time, when zayne dreams, he dreams of a certain hunter, and of a field of jasmines.

a/n: happy actual first post!! the urge to write "rei" instead of zayne and "MC" instead of "y/n" was ridiculously high. also his new card?!?#?@?@: i'm on the ground ......

reblogs are really appreciated (´ω｀) ♡

[espace--positif]

Focus and Distraction

A Zayne x F!Reader fluffy shortfic [Love and Deepspace]

Summary: What do you do when you’re distracted by your partner’s arms when trying to work? Arm wrestle him, of course. Pairing: Zayne x F!Reader WC: ~1.5k Content tags: fluff, suggestive themes, arm wrestling, thirsting over arms A/N: Reader is better than me cause I personally would’ve asked to be put in a chokehold and dragged to the bedr— *gets shoved in a van* THANKS FOR READING *scrumpt through the cracked windows as the van speeds off*

Read on AO3 // Masterlist

It was a day as normal as any, with Zayne tapping away at his laptop, buried in his work, while you polished off reports and fielded mission requests on your tablet. Seated comfortably at his kitchen table, you both toiled away at your respective responsibilities. You’d often engage in this coworking practice — it was the perfect solution to your unfortunately busy schedules, granting you a chance to see each other despite it all.

And the comfort that his calm presence provided during your work sessions was no secret; you found yourself more productive, more motivated, and less likely to spiral into needless anxieties when your slate grew a little too full. You liked to think he felt the same, that you could at least make his work more bearable, though he’d never verbalized it.

But today, his presence was beginning to become a bit of a problem.

You see, it was a balmy May afternoon, and with the weather becoming increasingly warmer, wardrobe changes naturally followed. Namely, Zayne’s dress shirt, usually neatly cuffed at the wrist, was now rolled up, exposing his sculpted arms. It was a minor change, one that could easily be overlooked and probably went unnoticed by everyone else, but it was all you could look at right now. Consuming your every thought, as your finger hovered over your tablet, occupied by nothing.

“It’s not break time yet,” Zayne sighed with his eyes still glued to his screen, and you startled. The man truly had a sixth sense.

The timer-clock you’d purchased for him as a gift, in the shape of a cute tomato, sat between you at the table, confirming that you were indeed only five and a half minutes into your fifteen-minute work block. You frowned at its adorable yet accusatory gaze.

“I know, I know,” you replied, willing yourself to return to your reports.

But the rhythmic typing that came from Zayne’s side of the table called you, and it wasn’t long before your eyes were glancing upwards again. The small, almost imperceptible throb of his arm muscles as he pressed down on the enter key, a push ever so slightly harsher than his normal typing, had you captivated. You loudly tapped at your tablet, paying the endless words on your report no mind as you stared. If he could hear you working, then he couldn’t possibly catch you in the act, right?

But he did. Eyes darting up impossibly fast, Zayne’s gaze caught yours and you were far too slow to look away.

“If you need to take a break right now, we can do that,” he said. He’d always been understanding of the ebbs and flows of focus, and how uncontrollable those tides were. So when you would become visibly distracted, he’d be less rigorous with enforcing the schedule you’d both set for yourselves. Little did he know that he was the very reason that your mind was endlessly wandering today.

“Nope,” you said as your shifty eyes met with your tablet once more, only to find that you’d deleted the last five lines of your report in your blind tapping. Resigned, you sighed. “Ok, maybe I do need a break.”

A soft smile tugged at Zayne’s lips as he half-closed the lid of his laptop, directing his full attention to you. “Short walk or tea?”

You pondered your two choices for a bit before a glint of playfulness flashed in your eyes. You couldn’t suppress the smile that invaded your expression as you responded: “Neither. Arm wrestle me.”

Zayne raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Arm wrestle?”

“Yeah, you know, to refocus,” you offered. “Something about muscle activation, blood flow…”

You trailed off, hoping he’d have some explanation that could give credence to your odd request.

“Stretching one’s muscles is important to reduce strain caused by long stationary periods, and light exercise can improve blood flow, which is linked to—”

“Exaaactly,” you interrupted, which earned you the mildest frown, more of a pout really. But you had more pressing matters at hand. “So let’s do it.”

You gently swept the devices and papers that littered the table to the side before leaning your elbow onto the dark wood. Zayne stared at you for a moment, incredulous, but soon obliged, clamping your hand within his. His soft fingers were cool to the touch, yet the warmth that settled within you was anything but. For the sight you were taken with right now was even better than you’d imagined. The muscles of his arms were now fully flexed despite his gentle grasp, their chiseled edges sharp enough to cut glass. Yet the soft curves where the muscle dipped beckoned you, the outline of taut veins branching under his skin as he shifted his elbow.

A breathy laugh escaped your lips, satisfaction taking over. You’d already seen every part of Zayne, countless times at that, but you doubted you’d ever find a sight more perfect than this. It was the subtlety of it all, the way the weight of his muscle shifted with every small movement, the way his sleeves constricted around the girth when his elbows bent, the almost forbidden setting in which all these little details invaded your eyes and mind. You briefly pondered whether this was how Victorian men felt when they managed to glimpse a stray ankle in the ballroom.

“Ready?” Zayne said in that low half-whispered tone he knew you liked, and the smirk he wore let you know he was probably already onto you. Not that you cared.

“Don’t hold back,” you replied. If only he knew how much you meant it.

You gently tapped the table in a mock countdown, signaling the beginning of the battle. Three, two, one.

You braced yourself, digging your free arm into the table as you pushed. But your strength was met with no reciprocation — the fact that your joined palms remained in a standstill told you as much, and the barely perceptible twitch in his arm confirmed that he wasn’t even playing, not really. And the ratcheting anticipation that had built up within you remained an unresolved ache that bloomed in your abdomen.

“You’re letting me win,” you huffed, and he confirmed your suspicions with a smirk as he let you slam his arm down with a soft thud.

He chuckled as he softly stroked the back of your hand with his thumb. “There’s no fairness in beating such a distracted opponent.”

A flush crept from your ears and through your heating face. You felt silly for getting so worked up about something so banal, but part of you couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Zayne was actually entertaining this. Seemed to be enjoying it, even.

“Hmm,” you hummed, bringing your free hand to boldly trace at the ever so slightly raised veins on his arm. “That won’t hold up in court. When I tell all your colleagues that I beat you at arm wrestling. Maybe I’ll post a moment commemorating my victory…?”

You trailed off, the delectable firmness under your palm, his muscles constricting and relaxing as you moved up his arm, the goosebumps you felt prickling at your fingertips, all doing nothing to quell the mounting thrill drumming in your core.

“In that case…” said Zayne before gently pulling your free hand away. And his next gesture was not so gentle. He effortlessly pushed up against your palm, teasingly letting up as your interlinked hands were upright again. You grabbed onto the edge of the table with your free hand, which you were pretty sure was considered cheating, as Zayne somehow kept your strengths matched while his hold on your palm somehow remained soft. And in an instant, the tables were turned. Your arm was roughly shoved down before you had the time to react, but you only had eyes for one thing.

You watched the muscles in Zayne’s arm ripple deliciously as he stretched his fingers, finally untangling his hand from yours. He let out a soft breath, something between a grunt and a sigh, relishing in his victory. And you were relishing in something else entirely. You let out a breathy sound of your own, much less intentional than Zayne’s.

“And that’s five minutes,” Zayne coolly remarked, as if nothing had ever happened. “Break time’s over.”

“Oh.”

“We are still working,” he said as he adjusted the cuffs of his rolled-up sleeves, his taut muscles constricting the fabric with the movement. Thirty wanderers wearing top hats could walk through the front door right that instant and you still wouldn’t have been pulled from the sight.

Right. Work.

“Do we have to?” you pleaded.

“Hmm,” he hummed. “That depends. Are you still… distracted?”

“Yes.”

Zayne sighed, a voiceless exhale. But the twinkle in his hazel eyes, the half-cocked smile that tugged at his lips, and the soft tightening and releasing of his forearm muscles as his fingertips drummed the table top betrayed a palpable anticipation. “Then we should do something about that.”

[revasserium]

waiting for winter (我期待的不是雪)

zayne; 1,616 words; fluff, pining, gn!reader, no "y/n", spoilers for lads ch.4, whipped!zayne

summary: he has never loved the winter

a/n: yes, this was inspired by that one chinese tiktok song. no, i will not elaborate.

He has never loved the winter.

But he remembers the first time he watched the snow fall reflected in your eyes — your cheeks kissed pink by the unforgiving wind, the sky a smear of white as the cold sunk into his bones. He remembers the silver bell ring of your laughter as you’d dragged him by the hand out to build a snowman, the look on your face when he’d remarked that your snowman’s nose was crooked because there were no carrots at the corner store so you’d had to make do with a potato instead.

“Look! It’s snowing!”

Zayne shakes himself into the present, glancing out of his office window at the cotton-soft flurries spinning by his windows. Across from him, you’re sitting with a muffler thrown haphazardly around your shoulders, watching the snow with an open, child-like wonder that makes his entire chest twist tight with —

He clears his throat.

“All the more reason for you to be careful — make sure to bundle up when you go outside,” he says, dropping his eyes back to your most recent health report.

You’re not sleeping enough, and your vitamin D levels are lower than he’d like. He’d hoped that becoming a Hunter would at least expose you to a decent amount of sun but then again, you had told him that Jenna’s been keeping tight reigns on you since the explosion.

“Yeah, yeah — I’ll be careful.”

He looks up, his eyes dark as he looks over the shape of you, fingers curled in your lap as you look up at him from beneath your lashes. He holds your gaze and fights to keep his expression neutral as you blush and look away, somehow reverting back to a much younger version of you — the memory of it superimposed upon the look of you now.

“You’re just as bossy as you were back then,” you say, sighing as you shrug up your shoulders like a scolded child.

Zayne scoffs, affording himself a small laugh, “Except I have a doctorate to back it up now, don’t I?”

You pout, pursing your lips. Zayne wonders, for the millionth time that day, how soft they might be beneath his own.

“I liked you better before you got your fancy creds,” you say, still pouting.

Zayne sighs, flicking off his tablet and putting it down on the table.

“Alright, what do you want?”

You blink up at him, eyes wide enough to convince anyone else of your innocence. But he knows better. He’s always known better.

“What do you mean?”

He ticks his tongue against his teeth and leans back in his chair, checking his watch.

“It’s almost lunchtime — c’mon.”

He pushes up from his desk and tugs his doctor’s coat from his shoulders, rolling them loose of the tightness that had gathered there all morning.

“Huh?”

He rounds his desk and tugs his winter coat from the back of the door, turning to fix you with a look.

“The noodle shop around the corner has your favorite as a lunch special.”

He counts down from five in his head — four, three, two —

“Really?” your face breaks into a grin wide enough to split your face. He chuckles.

“Yes, really. Are you coming?”

You stare for a second longer before leaping to your feet and bounding to his side. He reaches out to adjust your muffler, tying it tighter over the front of your chest, swatting your hand away when you try to loosen it.

“I’m going to choke!”

“Better that than for you to get sick again.”

He tugs open the door and watches you walk into the hallway, a bounce to your step that he hasn’t seen since you were both kids and he’d promised you he’d buy you sweets on the way home from school.

“How’re you so sure that the lunch specials gonna be my favorite?” you ask, pivoting on your heels and fixing him with a look, halfway down the white-washed hospital halls. Zayne takes his time buttoning up his own coat and locking his office door behind him.

“Because,” he says, voice steady as he strolls by you, glancing down with the shadow of a smile crimping his lips —

“I know you.”

* * *

He has never loved the winter.

But, he thinks as he watches you slurp down a bowl of wide-cut noodles, your cheeks flushed red with joy, he might just learn to love a winter like this.

You don’t question it when he reaches out to swipe at the corner of your mouth with this thumb, licking off the excess with a contemplative hm. But he revels in the way you swallow and blush and look away.

He wonders if you know.

He wonders if you know that you haunt him like the cold haunts him on the nights when he’s alone. He wonders if you see him the way he sees you, cast behind his eyelids like the frames of an old film whenever he closes his eyes, your smile more familiar to him than his own.

“Full?” he asks, watching as you wipe your mouth on a bit of napkin, lips stained red by the chili sauce.

“Mhm!” you nod, smiling up at him.

The noodle shop smells of chicken stock and green onions and the sharp dampness of snow on winter coats. You push the noodle bowl away and stare down at your hands.

“Are you — I mean… you have to go back to work, right?”

He can’t help but notice the note of reluctance in your voice, the way you look up at him as if hoping he’ll say no. He nods, folding his napkin into halves, and then forths. Outside, the sun is already falling toward the far horizon, casting everything in a goldenrod glow. Shadows fall long and sure along the pavement and Zayne doesn’t want to think about the endless hours of darkness ahead.

“Are you going home after this?” he asks, nodding stiffly to the waiter as he hands over his card, wordlessly pushing your hand away as you make a feeble attempt to try and snatch the receipt.

“I… was thinking about going to see a movie,” you say, thumbing at a stray thread along the edge of your coat. He watches you tug at it for a while before reaching out to take your hand in his.

“Go home,” he says, his voice level.

Your brow creases in a slight frown as you look up.

“But… I wanted to see —”

“We’ll see it this weekend,” he says, giving your hand a quick squeeze before letting go, thanking the waiter as he takes back his card and scribbles his signature on the receipt.

“We will?” you ask, blinking up at him as he stands up.

“Yes. It’s showing Saturday at 2:30 — we can get lunch before, or dinner after.”

He’s tugging on his coat when you reach up to loop his scarf around his neck, standing too close, so close he can smell the caramel milk and whipped cream of your skin. He fights down the shivers that threaten to shake down his spine as he goes still, waiting as you tuck his scarf securely around his neck.

“You never tie your scarf right,” you say, dropping back down onto your heels even as you shoulder on your own coat, cheeks dusted the most darling shade of pink Zayne has ever seen. As he watches you, he thinks it might just put the winter sun to shame.

He thinks he might thank you, or he might just bend down and kiss you — he’s uncertain all the way till you make it outside and you turn to smile up at him. And like this, with the dying sun caressing the edge of your cheek, the line of your jaw, you are nothing short of ethereal.

Zayne reaches forward, his thumb and forefinger catching your chin as he leans down.

Your gasp is little more than a hiccup of breath —

“Don’t be late,” he says, stopping mere inches from your lips, whispering the words against where your lips might be if he were a little more daring.

You hold perfectly still, your eyes round as you stare up at him, searching his face for… something — anything.

When he pulls back, he thinks you almost make to chase him. But you let his fingers drop from your skin and you tug at your muffler, toeing at the slushed-up snow on the sidewalk.

“Winter’s my favorite season, y’know,” you say. And Zayne doesn’t dare to hope. But he does — he watches you out of the corner of his eyes. Above you, all around you, the afternoon sun flickers and fades, a daytime aurora, like tendrils of some long-gone magic, coaxing willing believers toward their untimely doom.

“Hn,” he says, not trusting himself with more. He waits; you take a long breath before turning to look at him.

“You wanna know why?” you ask. And finally, finally he turns to you, his eyes catching your eyes — and in them, he sees the twisting colors of the sky reflected there, serpentine and sinuous. Ancient and inexorable. Reds and yellows, pinks and purples, bleeding into an endless, endless winter blue.

He wets his lips and swallows hard, “Why?”

You smile, and it is like the first glimmer of sun after an arctic winter’s night, and he can’t breathe for the sight of it.

“Because… it reminds me of you.”

lads requests r.... open lol

[hesperisms]

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

[kykyonthemoon]

One Summer Day

A road trip, a summer festival, childhood popsicles and Zayne. You have captured the essence of summer in your hands.

── .✦ Zayne x Female Reader (MC)

── .✦ Tags: R16 - MNDI, suggestive themes, summer, vacation, festival, use of Japanese culture and words, fluff, sweet, established relationship.

── .✦ Word count: 2k6

── .✦ Ky Ky's notes: This piece is inspired by Zayne’s text (Top Prize) after completing his story in Adventure above the Clouds event.

Misty Invasion Fan Art Contest Entry - Please support me on X!

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic - closed for the time being.

You stood under your porch with all enthusiasm, feet tiptoeing up and down, eyes fixed on the impending cars. When you recognized Zayne's familiar transport, the smile on your lips immediately spread like flower petals.

“Why are you out here? Didn't we agree to meet inside first?" Zayne inquired as he assisted you in loading the luggage into the back of the car.

"I saved Doctor Zayne the trouble." You responded. That was only half of the truth; the rest was because you were so eager to begin this journey that you rolled about in bed all night thinking about it. This morning, you awoke before the alarm went off. Because your luggage was little, you went downstairs to wait. That way, neither of you would have to waste any more time and could depart right away.

Zayne grinned as if he understood what you were saying and opened the car door to invite you in. Then he sat in the driver seat. The first song on your pre-selected list began to play, and with all your impatience, the three-hour long journey to the predetermined destination began.

Not long after the vehicle drove away, Zayne noticed a rustling close to him. You were opening the package for a snack you had recently enjoyed. Zayne laughed as his car came to a stop at a red light. He turned to face you and said:

“We've only been gone for five minutes and you're already hungry?”

You took a piece of snack and fed it to Zayne, replying:

“For you.”

He obediently took a mouthful while still staring at you, who was beaming with your snack bag. A few curls of hair had fallen on your cheeks, and he tucked them behind your ear. Zayne used the chance to gently stroke your face.

"Someone was so happy that she was unable to rest last night, right?"

You hastily checked the rearview mirror of the car. Aside from appearing too eager, a closer look would expose the weariness from lack of sleep around your eyes.

"Are you sure that person isn't Doctor Zayne?" You commented. Even though he had caught you red-handed, you would continue to deny it.

"Then there were two people who could not sleep last night." You were not prepared for Zayne to admit it so soon. You spotted his brilliant smile just as the green light went on and he shifted his concentration to the road ahead.

Zayne stated that if you were weary, you could take a nap in the car and he would wake you up at the destination. Nonetheless, you were determined to remain awake the whole journey. Every time the car came to a halt at a red light, you swiftly fed him some snacks. Zayne, in return, clasped his hands around yours. You would occasionally hum along to the music being played and see that Zayne was enjoying it. Was it the song or your voice? His fingers on the steering wheel moved gently with the rhythm, as did his head and neck, as if he were swaying to the melodies. But every time he recognized you gazing and was about to say something to tease him, Zayne claimed to be in the dark and made an insignificant remark: "Your taste in music is acceptable."

You burst into laughter. When you were together, he must have heard those songs so many times that he knew them by heart. Zayne frequently took you on outings, but this one was different. He won a lottery at Akso Hospital, resulting in a two-day, three-night vacation for a couple. Although you guessed that everyone had given Doctor Zayne the jackpot after seeing how hard he worked day and night, you were nonetheless overjoyed to be able to accompany him like this.

Zayne was the one to plan everything ahead, always had been. However, you were constantly thinking about all that may happen, while you were both thrilled and anxious. This vacation marked a significant step forward in your relationship; how could you not pay attention to every little thing? You wanted all to be perfect so Zayne could enjoy an unforgettable getaway.

But such things might have to wait a little longer. Your eyes began to close around halfway through and after you had consumed all of the treats. You had a strange feeling Zayne was adjusting the seat to make you more comfortable. He softly touched your palm, saying something like, "Yet someone insisted that she wasn't sleepy..." Then you fell into a deep slumber.

After a series of short, strange dreams, including one where Doctor Zayne transformed into a big cat, you were awakened by a cold touch on your cheek.

“We're here.” Zayne's voice rang out, and all of your weariness vanished as you saw the small, lovely village stretch out in front of you, embracing the foot of the mountain. You hastily exited the car. The fresh wind carried the welcome aroma of grass and trees, making you feel delighted.

It was already past midday when you arrived at the resort. After a light meal, Zayne and you checked in. It was a modest room only enough for a couple with complete facilities, including a tatami-covered floor and a sleeping mattress for two people, known as a futon. The room was simply designed, yet it felt airy and close to nature. Zayne claimed that his prize included the most adorable suite at the resort, which was not an exaggeration at all. Large wooden and matte paper doors opened into the serene alpine view that surrounded the room. Outside was a steaming onsen, and the afternoon sunshine falling on the bottom shimmered like precious gemstones, so it was inevitable that it would be the first thing to attract your attention when you arrived. There was nothing better than being able to soak it up at night and gaze at the stars.

However, you briefly resisted the impulse to soak in it right away because when you opened the wardrobe, you discovered two folded yukata sets waiting for you and Zayne. It was no surprise since you overheard him discussing your clothing size with the resort personnel prior to your arrival. You turned your head back to peer at Zayne, who was averting his gaze, but his brilliant expression indicated that he had planned all of this for you.

The yukata he had chosen for you was light blue, embellished with white jasmine pattern. You enthusiastically tried it on yourself. But even with a handbook in the room explaining how to wear it, you struggled and failed to put it correctly. You sighed and requested assistance from Zayne on the opposite side of the folding screen which divided the dressing space in two. 

“Doctor Zayne… I must have done something wrong…”

“Wait for me.”

His voice sounded out. A second later, he emerged from the opposite side of the screen. Zayne put on a yukata that was a much darker shade of blue than yours, dotted with a silver swallow pattern. As soon as you saw him, so perfect in the kind of outfit he had tried for the first time, you lost your breath. It was not until Zayne came closer to fix your dress that you recovered your composure.

“You've put on the wrong layers.” He said gently. “Let me fix it.”

Thus you stood motionless, arms wide out so Zayne could effortlessly alter your attire. Layer upon layer, one by one. It was not surprising to you that he was so skilled, given that this was your first time wearing a yukata together. Because, for you, Doctor Zayne's hands were a divine tool capable of assisting you in all you lacked. After your outfit was complete, the same hands assisted you in combing your hair and placing a jasmine flower on your head.

“How do I look? Has Doctor Zayne overdone it a bit?”

You inquired while glancing in the mirror. Behind you, he grinned pleasantly. “Not at all.”

You carefully brushed the fabric jasmine blossom Zayne had just placed in your hair. True, he had put a lot of thought into this trip. You turned around to look at him, mumbling a "Thank you" before rewarding him with a kiss on the cheek.

When the two of you arrived at the street, the sky was already tinted with dusk. You softly held Zayne's hand and moved in modest steps. You were not entirely comfortable with the geta that went with your attire. He wore a pair similar to yours, yet you were the only one who struggled.

The festival in this little community grew busier at night. Laughter breathed life into the desolate mountains and hills. The street was illuminated by lanterns, and both sides of the sidewalk were lined with vendors offering crafts, traditional games, and foods with inviting fragrances. As a result, after every few steps, you drew Zayne into a food stall to try it out.

You ate so many dishes that your tummy was full, leaving no room for supper at the resort. However, when you arrived at an old popsicle stall, you pleaded that Zayne try it with you.

"This is just like when we were kids, right?" You gladly accepted the popsicle from Zayne's hand. He sat next to you on a bench along the woodland edge, away  from the festival noise. The aromatic popsicle looked quite good. You took a large bite and felt numb to the brain.

"Ugh…" You shouted. Zayne instantly reached out to rub your head and temples. He softly said: 

"For what reason are you so hasty when there's a popsicle? Are you still a three-year-old?"

You pouted, stared at him and snorted loudly. Zayne softly squeezed your face and added:

“Slow down. With me here, you don't have to worry about your popsicle melting."

"Sure." You nodded. Your gaze fell on the mint-flavored popsicle in Zayne's fingers. Then, as fast as lightning, you leaned down and took a mouthful. 

"You—" Zayne protested, but it was a bit too late. You giggled as your head became dizzy from a fresh brain freeze. 

He grumbled and proceeded to rub your head. After consuming the popsicle, you stated:

“That's my revenge on you for pinching my cheek! How dare you?”

Zayne clicked his tongue and shook his head playfully. "It seems that no matter how old you get, the way you eat popsicles still remains.”

After that, he placed his thumb in the corner of your lips, softly wiped away the smeared cream, then lingered there forever. His gaze was unable to depart your slightly opened ruby lips. Zayne leaned down to taste the popsicle flavor that persisted on the tip of your tongue.

“Hmm… This flavor combined with mint… It isn't bad at all…”

After the festival, you chose to wrap up the day in comfort by soaking in the onsen outside your bedroom. You removed your yukata and wrapped a towel over your body before stepping out into the warm night, which was filled with luminous stars above. Zayne was already soaking in the hot spring, the moonlight casting luscious honey dews on his bare back as he turned toward the chamber. You approached delicately and sat down to soak your feet in the warm water first.

Zayne turned back to gaze at you. Iridescent drops poured from his hair and flowed down his dominant chest; every muscle fiber that was usually hidden underneath discreet layers of clothing was now displayed before your eyes, even the scars running along his arms. Suddenly, you realized that the water in the onsen was hotter than intended.

“How are your feet?” Zayne questioned as he approached you. The water solely reached his waist, where he was covered in a towel. You replied:

“I feel better now. Those geta are probably not for me.” 

The sensation of Zayne's hand on your submerged feet startled you. He took your slightly red foot and gently rubbed it while keeping it under the water. He repeated the same thing with your other foot.

“By doing this, you will feel more comfortable,” said Zayne. You nodded firmly, eyes still fixed on his body. While he was massaging your feet, you kicked the water around, causing him extra soaked. Nonetheless, he simply wiped any water from his face and glanced at you in a patient manner, shaking his head slightly.

You giggled and continued to swing your leg harder. This time, he gently squeezed your ankle and said:

“Just now, someone complained about her feet hurting and insisted on being carried back here. Is she fully recovered by now? If that's the case, she doesn't need my care anymore."

His hands eased on you, yet you quickly wrapped your legs around Zayne's waist and pressed him closer. The bottom of the onsen seemed slippery, causing him to suddenly slide forward. He placed his hands on the ground so he would not tumble on you. His hot breath invaded your left ear. His body emitted a faint aroma of warm wood. Before your eyes, the water-soaked crook of his neck was revealed. Your nose gently rubbed against it.

“Who said she doesn't need your special care anymore?”

You nuzzled him, arms wrapped around his neck to pull him closer. Zayne's breathing became heavier. He maintained his balance, although it was difficult to remove himself from you while you were this close to him. The sweet fruity scent emanating from you was which he had become accustomed to these past few days.

“You're using that lotion again…” Every syllable that escaped his mouth was like fire pouring into your ears. You said quietly:

“Since you seem to appreciate it so much, I…”

Before you could finish your sentence, Zayne seized your waist and lifted you off the onsen edge. You could only lean your body absolutely into his chest, legs clamped securely around his waist to keep from falling, despite the fact that he held you extremely firm in place. Zayne pushed his face against your neck, hungrily devouring the sweet scent flowing from there. His lips pressed lengthy, scorching kisses against your neck, shoulders, and chest.

"Z-Zayne…" You tenderly called his name. Your hand on his neck softly pushed him away. The thin smoke from the onsen veiled your vision, rendering everything as surreal as a dream. In the lake's heat and humidity, drops of perspiration and water ran from Zayne's temples to the back of his neck and torso. But no matter how much you resisted, he would not let go of you.

You lightly nipped his red ear. Only then did Zayne shift away from you, his expression showing astonishment mixed with a little hurt. Had he just done something that made you unsettling?

"Let me down first…" You murmured. Zayne held you with one arm, with the other hand softly drawing circles on the area of your back which was exposed from the towel. He tilted his head and whispered into your ear:

"This is also part of my special care. Are you certain you don't want it?"

His radiant eyes fixed on you, anticipating. You pursed your lips hard before deliberately pressing yourself closer to his body. 

“Of course… I want it…”

The corner of Zayne's mouth curled up slightly. He walked to a deeper part of the onsen, allowing both of you to plunge into the water, which became hotter with each touch. He kissed you. It began gently, like calm water; but over time it grew more intense, as if he was slowly melting with you. You always possessed the ability of exposing his deepest emotions and desires. Only you.

For, if he could control it, then it was certainly not love.

[lostinlads]

Fluffy Treatment

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

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

Words: 4.4k

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

ao3 | Yes, Cat Caretaker mini series | kofi

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[beneathashadytree]

JEALOUS MUCH? - TEXTING THE LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MEN

Warnings : subtle suggestiveness, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : fluff for shits n giggles

Additional notes : Another adorable request I loved making to show just how horrendously down bad they all are for MC🙏🏽 Hope y’all enjoy it!!🫶🏽

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Masterlist

Taglist: @angry-and-yandere @nxx-jordiepord @honestlyjustablog @dawnbreakersgaze @tartartagliaboo @lucis-noctiana @mushriiin @flurrina @reika-desu @randomidk-123 @tikitsune @cofijelli @roll-of-royces @loveyoutoodeep @belovedof @obiwanmcprobie @hawtlineblingz @kalatipunan @eurekazz @bifedebruxa @thescribeswife @mysticangel123 @xenasolos @jvnluvr @dann-acalle @rosariymchapter @rin-sv14 @yololesgo @an-ever-angry-bi @semi-orangeapple @lavanderbliss @myturnwhen @winterlvod @carsonology @vash-yuu

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