#sub zayne x reader

[navillee]

I JUST KNOW THAT DAWNBREAKER MEETING MC FIRST TIME THROUGH ZAYNE WAS EXACTLY LIKE THIS:

You. can't. change. my. mind.

[bloddysnow]

Summary: You are an emperor, and you have your own harem consisting of four consorts.

Pairings: Sub! Bottom! Zayne/Sylus/Rafayel/Xavier x Dom! Top! Gn! Reader

nsfw minors dni

They have different features and characters, each of which is a unique combination of beauty, strength and charm.

The first consort, Zayne was a skillful healer, known for his wisdom and insight. He was not only handsome, but also smart. His knowledge of herbs and medicines helped to keep you in good health, helping to stay full of strength and energy. He often gave you valuable advice in governing the state. He had a refined taste and exquisite grace. His outfits have always been made with elegance.

The second consort, Rafayel, has a passionate temperament and burning beauty. Something about him always makes him the center of attention in any room. He chooses the most precious fabrics and jewelry to emphasize his beauty. Rafayel spends his days perfecting the art of dance, demonstrating flexibility and ability to control his body. He was not only a talented dancer, but also a skillful musician. In the evenings, he plays the lyre, hoping to attract you with melodic sounds and his angelic voice. His talent was known far beyond the palace.

The third consort, Sylus is famous for his wisdom and deep knowledge of poetry and philosophy. Passion and temptation permeates his every movement and every word. His eyes burn with the fire of thirst, giving mystery. He is also a master of martial arts. His grace and dexterity delighted everyone who saw his training. He often quotes poems and philosophical thoughts, hoping to win your heart through mind and soul.

The fourth consort, Xavier is known for his innocence and sincerity. He wears light and bright outfits that emphasize his young beauty. Its beauty is emphasized by simplicity and naturalness. He likes to walk in the garden and pick flowers. He wants to attract you with his purity and innocence. His room is filled with the scents of fresh flowers and the soft light of candles since he every evening hopes that you’ll want to visit him.

They dress up in frank clothes that barely cover their bodies to better demonstrate the traces of your caresses - dark spots and red marks from love bites that cover their delicate skin with a marble pattern. Every sign you leave is considered a pride, and they do not hide them under their makeup, but show them out.

At public meetings, banquets, parties and most social events, your consorts properly stand right behind your back and will always accompany you. Their presence behind your back symbolized the unity and strength of the imperial family. They’ll hide their faces under face veil, leaving only their eyes open. Since childhood, they have been taught that their bodies belong only to the emperor, and this knowledge is deeply rooted in their minds. Because of this, they cannot get physical pleasure on their own, knowing that their purpose is to serve only you.

As an emperor, you are aware of the importance of fair and respectful treatment of your consorts. And you try to pay equal attention to them all, making sure that each of them feels loved and valuable.

Evenings in the garden with Xavier have become an oasis of calm and happiness for you. The garden has an atmosphere of peace and harmony created by the rustle of foliage, the singing of birds and the quiet murmur of the fountain. Xavier brings the book he chose in advance and sits on the soft grass under the shade of an old oak leaning against it. You settle down next to him, putting your head on his lap. His hands begin to gently stroke your hair. He opens the book and starts reading aloud. His voice, soft and expressive, fills the space around you. Closing your eyes, you enjoy every minute spent with him.

Sylus often asks you to practice with him. One of your rules was the following: if he wins, you will fulfill any of his wishes. He attacks quickly and deftly, trying to find vulnerabilities. You, in turn, fight back, always trying to keep a balance between defense and attack. However, despite his aspiration and skills, he has never managed to defeat you. You are always one step ahead. You know that the real goal of these trainings is not victory, but time spent together. And this ends with Sylus breathing heavily with his hands around your neck, feeling the warmth of your body. Your hands wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. His lips are warm, persistent, conveying all the passion that he may have been holding back for a long time.

Rafayel, dressed in light silk clothes, slowly goes to the center of the hall, illuminated by the soft light of candles. The sounds of darbuka and qanun begin to fill the space. Smooth waves run through his body, starting from his hips and rising up his spine. He skillfully uses his shoulders. His hands gently twist, repeating the curves of the melody, and his fingers touch the invisible strings, adding a touch of magic to the dance. His hips make graceful movements, synchronously swaying in the rhythm of melody. His body is the true perfection of beauty. Each muscle contraction, each movement emphasizes the ideal lines of his figure. The light of candles plays on his skin, creating a game of shadows and emphasizing every muscle. When he looks at you, it seems that time stops. His eyes are full of depth and passion, you can drown in them, forgetting about everything in the world. It's like they bewitched you, and you can't take your eyes off him. They reflect the whole world, full of mysteries and secrets that he is ready to share only with you.

In the majestic imperial palace, immersed in luxury and splendor, your life was surrounded by Zayne's care and attention. Not trusting the servants, Zayne personally followed every aspect of your daily life. It was his personal privilege and duty that he was proud of. Taking care of the emperor gave him some pleasure. He chooses your outfit for the day, also takes care of your hairstyle, skillfully styling your hair and giving it a neat look. He makes sure that consorts didn't bother you and asks you every night if you wanted to visit someone's quarters. Zayne takes care of his emperor with awe and love, trying to protect you from all possible troubles and worries. As a sign of gratitude for his tireless care and devotion, you often took his hands in your own and gratefully kiss them. Zayne was always embarrassed at these moments, looking away.

Their hearts are pounding in anticipation of your next choice, and each of them is eager to be in emperor’s quarters again. When they find themselves in your bed, their moans and screams become loud and passionate, breaking the silence of the night. It's not only an expression of their pleasure, but also a way to show others your closeness to them. They cry, clutching your cock buried deep inside them, and whisper through tears: "I'm y-your favorite, right?" Their voices tremble with emotions, and their hearts beat in the hope of confirming their uniqueness and love.

Their bellies become swollen from the amount of sperm inside their wombs. When you gently press on their stomach, white sperm flows out of their hole, and they whine, asking you not to waste it. Each of them dreams of giving birth to the first heir, who will strengthen his position in the harem and give him power and respect.

[snowballseal]

Doctor's Orders

Summary: There's no messing around with your health, and Zayne makes sure you know that. Just a little spoof ^w^

Word Count: 680

Warnings: like, light (not really) dom/sub themes - listen listen listen

---

“As your doctor, I recommend that you do not participate in any active missions for a week, until this heals,” Zayne says, voice level and professional as he finishes bandaging your shoulder.

While in the midst of a battle, you had lost track of a smaller wanderer. It had taken advantage of your focus on the larger targets to latch onto your shoulder. Just your luck, the little sucker had claws, leaving you with pretty deep gashes down your upper back.

Safe to say, Zayne was less than happy to come back from a surgery and find you perched on his desk, sporting a guilty smile and blood-speckled bandages.

“It’s really not that bad, Zayne,” you try your best to reassure him, carefully flexing your arm. “It barely even hurts!”

“That’s because I administered a local anesthetic before stitching them closed,” he explains tersely, removing his medical gloves and throwing them away. “In a few hours, you will likely be in more pain. I’ll prescribe you a mild pain reliever as well as an antibiotic, you can pick them up at the pharmacy on your way home.”

Unwisely, you flex your arm again and hum, “Hmm, I should probably head back to the office, actually. I feel bad leaving Xavier with all those reports to fill out.”

Zayne pauses, those green eyes narrowing on you. You almost flinch under their intensity, unable to ignore the way your heart leaps to your throat. It’s a look you recognize all too well.

“I’ll go home right after, I promise,” you try to convince him with another big smile.

“And then you will take it easy for a week?”

You hesitate. A small frown pulls at the corners of his lips, his gaze turning impossibly sharper.

“Will you not?”

That should have been enough to let you know you’re poking the tiger, but you try to get up anyways, eyes looking anywhere but him, “Well…You know, things have just been really crazy recently, what with the increase in wanderer attacks, and it would be really irresponsible-”

You’re cut by a firm grip on your chin. Zayne is suddenly standing too, so close, his cool breath brushing your lips as he forces you to look up at him. You freeze, eyes going wide, heat creeping up your neck. You’re standing so close that you can feel his warmth, and you can see the specks of hazel in his eyes. They glint down at you darkly, pinning you in place.

“Let me be clear, darling. As your doctor, I recommend you take it easy for at least a week. As your partner-” He steps closer, forcing you to fall back on the couch again. He follows, arm bracing beside your head, knees pressing down on either side of you, until you're effectively trapped under his larger frame. Your breath sticks in your throat. “-I will let you know that if you consider putting yourself at risk this week, you will face punishment. Am I understood?”

Oh. You let out a shaky breath, nodding meekly against his fingers. Zayne’s eyes narrow even further. A squeak escapes you when he pinches your side.

“Use your words, darling.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” you rush out, squirming away from any more pinches. “I understand. No wanderers. No fighting. I’ll take it easy.”

That finally gets Zayne to ease up a little. His grip on your chin moves to your cheek, his thumb tracing over your flushed skin. Pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, he murmurs a low, “Good girl. Now go get your prescriptions and finish your work. I expect to see you home, on time, for dinner.”

It seems the thought of food is enough to make you perk up again, switching gears completely, as if nothing had happened, “Ooh, could you make fancy ramen, again? Please?”

Your unbridled excitement makes the doctor’s expression soften. A low chuckle passing his lips, he leans down to brush your noses together in a gentle eskimo kiss, “Anything you want, my dear. I will take care of you tonight.”

“Yes!”

---

This would probably be the only way I ever consider my health, low key

[sh1-n0bu]

𝕿𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖔𝖚𝖙𝖘 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕯𝖊𝖊𝖕𝖘𝖕𝖆𝖈𝖊:

✿ SFW recipes:

Currently no take outs. Would you like to order?

♡︎ NSFW recipes:

Happy yandere husband! - sub!yandere!AFAB!characters x dom!gn!reader

☆ Self aware AU recipes:

Currently no take outs. Would you like to order?

⇨ psst!! the divider is from @rookthornesartistry

[chryssikyu]

Mate.... I got Zaynes within my first 10....

[whitemancumslut]

WHEN BUSINESS IS DUE… (Z.M x H.S)

SUMMARY: In which Harry Styles is a wealthy CEO, Zayn Malik is a wealthy careless businessman, and Y/n is their princess.

CONTENT WARNING: MINORS DNI, drugs, sex, and… money.

an almost entirely smut series.

—ONE SHOTS—

GOOD, PRINCESS

Summary: Harry and Zayn take princess out to dinner. (4.0k)

Don’t Forget About Me

SUMMARY: In which Y/n feels her Daddy and Sir are working too much and will end up forgetting about her.

Patience Is.. and Always Will Be Key

SUMMARY: In which Y/n is needy and impatient.

SIR SCARES, DADDY COMFORTS

SUMMARY: Innocent Y/n accidentally causes a ruckus when trying to help her Sir Zayn. When things go wrong, Sir is outraged and takes his anger out on a Little Y/n.

SELF PLEASURE

SUMMARY: Daddy and Sir are working too much! No one to fulfill sweet Y/n’s needs but herself.

[navillee]

Zayne cried on his first time with you. He didn't have anyone before you, so his body turned out to be ultra sensitive to physical contact, to the point he got overwhelmed not just by the feeling of finally having you in his arms – after so much effort on betraying a god and dealing with med school parts –, but also how you seem to know exactly where and how to touch him. It was too much. You could see crystalline tears running down his cheeks as he vainly tried to hide his face from you. You tried to stop your advances towards him out of worry, but Zayne prevented immediately, blurting out desperately a "please don't stop! I don't want you to stop, need it~ need more, I'm sorry...a-ah! Please!~"

You made sure to brush his tears off afterwards, pampering him, praising his vulnerability with you, making a safe space for him to express himself. You eventually discover later on that every now and then, when he spends a long time without having sex with you – like when he goes on a work trip – he would cry as he finally cums for you again. Such a sensitive man, right?

[bloddysnow]

Love me more

By Sylus

"Tell me... tell me that you love me more than them"- his voice trembled as he held your hands tightly as if afraid that you might disappear, peering into your eyes. His look was tense, full of expectation and anxiety. You felt his heart beating, his every breath echo in you.

Sylus knew that he was not the only one in your heart, and this knowledge did not give him peace.

He knew you spend more time with Rafayel. This fact burned him from the inside, because he understood that you love him for the mercy and naivety that made him so special for you. He was tormented by the realization that you find solace in Xavier's arms. Thoughts about how Xavier embraces you, how you seek comfort in his hands, did not give him peace. But most of all he was tormented by the knowledge that you love Zayne.

He knew that Zayne had a special place in your heart. You loved Zayne not just for his qualities, you trusted him.

They give you their love through gifts, walks under the moon, romantic dinners and confessions. Their feelings were sincere and strong, and you appreciate every moment spent with them. They created for you a world full of beauty and happiness, a world in which you felt loved and desired.

But he believed that his love surpassed all this. He didn't need loud gestures and magnificent expressions of feelings. His love was quiet but deep, it permeated every cell of his creature. He was ready to endure pain and suffering for you, he was ready to sacrifice his happiness for your well-being. He wants to know that you see his efforts, that you notice his presence. He will become anyone for you.

Do you like a submissive partner? He's ready to be like that for you. He will kneel in front of you with a collar around his neck. He will beg you if you order him to do it. His hands will reach out to you, but he won't touch you if you don't allow it.

"Tell me, - his voice was quiet, but persistent, - that I'm more for you than they are. That you feel for me what you don't feel for them. That I'm really important to you. That I belong to you… Please."

He’s waiting, his eyes did not break away from yours, hope and fear were read in them. Sylus wants to hear that every time he touches you, you feel the same as him - deep affection and desire to be close no matter what. He wants your heart to burn with the same passion, that your soul would strive for him as much as his soul wants you. He wants you to know that he would always be there to support you, hug you and say that everything would be fine. He wants you to feel this devotion, so that you would know that nothing is more important to him and dearer than you.

You've seen him struggling with his doubts, trying to find answers in your eyes. His soul was naked in front of you, and he was waiting for your words that could dispel his fears.

[snowballseal]

Guard Dog AU - Zayne

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

Word County: 2744

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

Coming soon: Sylus / Xavier / Rafayel

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

Enjoy!

---

“Kneel.”

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

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

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

“I said. Kneel.”

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

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

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

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

“Foreseer-”

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

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

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

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

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

Always on you. 

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

An uncomfortable cough breaks the silence, “Foreseer-”

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

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

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

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

One should not anger a god so carelessly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I apologize, my lady.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can’t-! Foreseer!”

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

“Yes, my lady.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can hardly be blamed for resenting their kind.

All of them except Zayne.

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

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

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

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

“Please speak, darling.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

Can't wait to write Sylus' 😉

[lalunanymph]

୨୧ zayne decides to take matters into his own hands when he notices you've been neglecting your health lately

✧･ﾟboyfriend!zayne, fem!reader, established relationship, mentions of food, reader neglects her health, reader calls zayne 'sir' once, spanking, soft dom!zayne -> lifestyle dom!zayne, light Dom/sub elements, swearing, unprotected s[e]x, petnames (my aurora, my darling), thigh humping, size kink

✧･ﾟthought about lifestyle doms from an anon's ask and suddenly this idea came to me about zayne doubling down on making sure you're taking care of your health ugh i need this man biblically

The life of a Hunter is anything but easy, and Zayne knows that well.

However, he can't help the feelings that surface every time he sees you coming back home, tired and even more worn down than when you had given him a goodbye kiss this morning.

And this isn't the first time, either.

He notices—he always does. It's in his very nature to be trained to catch even the slightest deviation of the norm; a blip in your composure, your routine.

Nowadays, you were sleeping for 4 hours max, pushing your body everyday at work until bruises litter your limbs; skipping meals to hand in Jenna's reports before the stipulated deadline, barely finishing up your 500ml water bottle he so diligently helps to fill up every morning...

... and all of it piles onto the guilt he feels when he realizes how little he can do to take care of you.

It festers and festers and festers till he snaps the very second you come back home, exhausted and puckering your lips for his usual welcome back kiss.

"No."

It breaks his heart—truly, it does—to see the hurt shining in your eyes.

Why? You struggle to understand why he's being so cold all of a sudden. From warm snuggles to an icy cold glare—Zayne's mood shift was scaring you. 

Instead of answering, he goes into the kitchen and reappears a second later, holding a cup of water.

"Drink this all up and then I'll kiss you." 

His tone is deadpan, sharp green eyes never losing their sternness. 

To add insult to the injury, he scoffs, "Your breath probably smells after a whole day of not drinking water. The bacteria on your tongue alone could kill off a mouse." 

You gape, affronted. "Hey! Don’t be mean—" 

"Drink. Up." He leaves no room for you to argue; to huff your disbelief. Deciding to not be too difficult, especially when you've already had a hard day at work, you gulp down the water dutifully; a little too quickly until you choke and he pats your back. 

Once your coughing fit subsides, he tilts your head up, and like the first touch of cool morning dew on skin, his lips meet yours.

"More," you mumble, nails sinking into his soft dark hair, tugging slightly on his roots to voice your need.

Something about your sweet primary care physician boyfriend who's always yielding and gentle—restraining you from indulging in him until you did, as he said—made you throb all over. 

Zayne's minty cool breath fans across your face, his voice smooth as dark chocolate when he whispers, "You need to eat first. I know you haven't had a full meal today." 

Rubbing your nose against his, you whine. "If I do eat, can you kiss me more?" 

In answer, Zayne wraps his arms tightly around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "Of course," he mumbles into your skin. "I'll give you so many kisses till you're sick of them."

Never, you thought. You would never get over the feeling of his lips on yours. Or the rough rasp of his palm on your thigh, gently kneading the flesh as you quickly ate the meal he cooked. 

If you thought his spur of tough love would end after tonight, you were sorely mistaken.

Kisses held hostage turn into refusals of even hugging you until you promise to finish your lunch at work. 

You feel Tara's stare burning holes into your side profile, brows crinkled as she looks past her desktop at your antics. 

Today, your phone leans against your monitor, and you were taking huge bites of the noodle dish Zayne prepared the night before.

"Filming a mukbang?" Tara inquires innocently. 

You shake your head, expression sour. "No," you quickly swallow your bite of food, and fix her with a look that speaks volumes. "Zayne." 

"Ah." 

Tara nods. "Dating a doctor isn't easy. I bet he tells you to pay attention to your health all the time, huh? But, you know what they say—an apple a day keeps the doctor away. At least, he'll stay off your case if you take care of yourself." 

Only she could make it sound so easy.

When you were called into the city to investigate a strange flux pattern, you had forgotten to let Zayne know you weren't coming home in time for dinner. 

How were you to know that the very second you stepped foot at home, he was already waiting with a scowl in place? 

"Zayne—" you start when you see him leaning against the kitchen doorframe, expression impassive.

He shushes you, tall and imposing; still in his pristine work suit from today.

"Have you at least had something to eat in the last 6 hours?" 

Remembering the little pact you both made, you nod quickly. "Mhm hmm! All my food is finished—cross my heart." You even remove your container from its insulated bag, shaking it lightly. "See? All empty." 

A shadow of a smile graces his lips. "Good. And how many cups of water did you drink?" 

Immediately, the smile drops from your face. "Uh... one? maybe two. I can't remember..."

The look in his eyes would've made you shrink away, if you couldn't already predict your boyfriend's next words.

"You are highly irresponsible with your own health, my darling." 

You wait for him to nag, but back up when he starts to approach you; the look on his face is unreadable. 

"What do I do with you, Y/N?" he sighs, and before you can react, cages you against the wall. The smell of his cologne—fresh and expensive—invades your nostrils.

Your head spins, all the blood going straight to your toes; your stomach falling when he leans forward, lips right at your ear.

"I guess I have to force you to take your health seriously. How do you think I will do that?" 

Zayne doesn't wait for you to answer. In one swift move, he has you in his arms, using his strength to carry you into the bedroom.

"Zayne," you squeak and gasp when he tosses you onto the bed. 

The mattress dips under his weight, his face inches from yours. Despite the change in his behavior, you tilt your lips up, needy and ready to feel his kisses. 

But, he never gives it to you. 

Instead, his large hands pin your wrists to the headboard, those sharp green eyes peering at you through half-mast lids. 

Zayne licks his lips, and subconsciously, you track the minute movement, biting on your own lower lip. 

The air turns heavier; sweetened with the promise of an unforgettable night. 

You accidentally tick your hips up, catching the front of his slacks. Your eyes widen when you feel an unmistakable bulge digging right into your crotch; Zayne's loss of composure pushing right into the heat of your thighs, demanding for your attention. 

In contrast, his expression doesn't change; an almost bored emerald gaze fixed on your every reaction. 

"You do know what will happen tonight, right?" 

Trying hard not to shiver, you nod. 

"Yes," you mumble, suddenly meek. 

"Yes, what?" 

You swallow, darting your gaze over his shoulder. He grunts, squeezing down on your wrists with enough pressure to make it throb, but not enough to leave a bruise.

"Sir!" You yelp. "Y-yes, Sir." 

One corner of his mouth ticks, and exhales a short huff. "Good. You still have your manners intact, I see."

Leaning up, he unbuttoned his vest. Using one hand to gather your wrists together, the free one was left to tug on his tie; Windsor knot giving way to a strip of his pale skin. 

You eyed the expanse of his neck hungrily; unabashed, even when his lips curl into a sinful smile.

“It seems like someone here has missed me,” Zayne whispers, and you fight back a shiver when he leans in, close enough for his breath to stir the loose locks on your cheeks. 

“I’m… sorry,” was all you could offer him weakly. Zayne’s thin lips curl into a smirk. At this point, you weren’t even sure why he wasn’t fucking you yet—what he was waiting for. “Please…” without a second thought, you clip your hips against his, trying to ease the tension between your thighs. “I need you, Zayne.”

His grunt was low—a warning. “Do you think you deserve it? I can’t keep reminding you to put yourself first, my darling. What if I’m gone? What would you do?” 

Even though it was a hypothetical question, your chest couldn’t help but squeeze at the thought of a Zayne-less life. You would rather feed yourself to a Wanderer than go a day without him.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, earnest this time. “I was careless. I should’ve listened to you. I… I’ll try my best to take care of myself.” 

Zayne gives you a look, like he doesn’t believe you for a single second. It has you scrambling your ringing mind to say something else. 

But, before you do, the world tilts, and you’re in his lap. Zayne’s lips were an inch away from yours. You zero in on them. Missing how they would feel gently slotted against your own—when you disregard the hesitation to plant your mouth on his. 

Patiently, like a martyr or a long suffering saint, Zayne lets you kiss him. He doesn’t respond back, at least not like what you expect.

No flames, no passion. It was as good as kissing a stone statue.

There was no yield in his gaze; those flinty green eyes refusing to thaw.

You repress a full body shiver. 

Suddenly, the coolness of the room becomes more pronounced. You feel the chill on your skin, where his long fingers wrap around your fleshy hips spilling past the Hunter-standard pants.

“I should punish you for that.” 

A flurry of movement. Your face meets the downy mattress, mouthful of cotton stoppering your protests. 

Sharp, stinging pain explodes across your ass. The sound of a large palm meeting skin echoes around the room again; your surprised yelp bouncing from wall to wall.

Soothingly, he rubs the ache from your tender globes, and in a voice dripping with sympathy, whispers, “I apologize for having to do this, my Aurora.”

Your back arches, the sudden awareness of your vulnerability penetrating your fuzzy mind. Pinned to the bed, his bigger frame pressing down on yours—you were trapped in the eye of a frigid storm.

“Zayne,” you whine, too aware of how warm his body felt on yours. 

I promise to take care of you, his voice rings in your head. Of memories during summer nights, skin stuck to skin, your head on his chest. I can’t lose you—not to the Wanderers or your own carelessness.

Zayne ceaselessly kept that promise—his devotion unmatched. And you were carelessly throwing it away every single day, right in his face. Denying his care, his treatment.

It all became clear to you in that split second.

He was past waiting for your excuses and apologies; all he wants is to make sure you never forget yourself ever again. 

Zayne props you on his lap once more, leaning back against the headboard.

“I want you to cum—”

It’s embarrassing how quickly you perk up only to be let down when he disclaims his generosity with a contradictory footnote.

“—without my help.”

He rests his head back, the arch of his neck tempting you to plant kisses down the pale stretch of skin; his Adam’s apple bobbing. The silence grows; you feel like you could suffocate from the chill spreading between your two tense bodies.

You shift forward, incredulous. “What the heck do you mean by that?” 

Zayne flickers his gaze to where your crotch snugly fits on top of his thigh. “You’re a smart girl… I’m sure you will figure it out soon.”

You huff, a pout pushing your displeasure right into his face. 

“You’re mean. I already said I was sorry.” 

But, he wasn’t going to budge. If there was one thing Zayne would never compromise on, it was caring for you. Sometimes, it scared you—how utterly serious he took his job as your caretaker in and out of the hospital walls. 

No amount of reasoning could change his mind. It was either you play his game, or walk away with that pit gnawing right at the bottom of your stomach—unfulfilled and gaping.

You lean back. Friction, burning hot, zings up your spine, and suddenly, what he wants you to do clicks in. 

“Oh.” 

You swallow. Outside, rain begins to splatter on the windowpane. The world goes blue and dark, holding its breath in tandem with yours.

Locking your hands on his shoulders, you lean forward. Then, shift back. And do it again and again until you feel the heat burning you up; razing your self control down to ashes as you let out a small, shaky moan. 

“Good girl,” Zayne whispers into the dark of your room. “You’re so pretty like this—getting off on my thigh.” 

You peel your teary eyes onto his softening ones. His jaw clenches, and a vein throbs in his temple. He fights back the urge to thrust up—to meet your sensual grinding. It was a losing battle. Every needy whimper slipping past your wet lips sends a pleasurable jolt to his cock. But, he can’t give in just yet. You had to learn your lesson the hard way. 

There’s an indecent spot of wetness staining his slacks. The dark material of your pants hides your arousal well, but Zayne can practically smell you. 

Sweet musk and a fragrant vanilla. 

His heart thrums wildly, staccato beats that match the constant pulsing of his aching cock. 

I need her so badly. He wants nothing more than to be buried in you; to watch you fall apart under his tender care. 

Every mellifluous whimper dripping from your lax mouth makes him see stars; coated with ecstasy, your eagerness continues to seep into the expensive fabric of his slacks. 

Zayne makes a mental note to get it dry cleaned at his earliest convenience. 

It should’ve annoyed him—this extra chore on his already burdened shoulders. But, he doesn’t care much for the cost of sending his expensive, tailored suits to the best dry cleaners in Linkon City. 

He would let you squirt all over them ten times over if it meant he could bring you to your zenith of pleasure and back. 

Those beautiful emerald eyes never leave yours; devouring every reaction. Studying your shifts and dips. Calculating his next move in his head.

You might’ve thought Zayne was hewn from rock with how quiet he was. 

But, if you would look closer, you would’ve seen how his hands were stuffed into fists right by his side. The shake in his breath when you toss your head back. How he could barely keep his jaw from tightening when you mewl out his name.

I promise to take care of her—no matter what. Caleb and your grandmother were witnesses to his solemn vow. 

He would keep his word. Do everything in his power to keep their precious girl in line—even if she thought it was unfair.

“Zayne, please,” you try to beg again. He only scoffs. 

Mean. He was so, so mean. 

You were aching all over, yearning for it. Needing his touch and attention on your body to drive yourself over the edge. 

Unfortunately for you, his self-control is immaculate. It doesn’t fold nor break. In the operation room, and outside of it, his priority was to maintain a level-headed calm wherever he went. 

But, inwardly, with you on his lap; all pouty, kissable lips and pussy dripping her excitement on his thigh, Zayne finds his famed composure cracking under the weight of your desire.

“Zayne,” you hiccup. “Please. Please. Touch me.”

Large, veiny hands grip your thighs, dragging you close. 

His mouth finally presses on yours, and it feels like a sparked flame striking near a mountain of straw.

He tries to keep his wits—he really does. Reminds himself not to indulge you again; to finally make you see how much he cares for you through this cruel game.

Like a fluctuation cutting through permanent winds that flow steadfastly North, only you had the power to sway his decisions. 

"Zayne," you moan into his mouth.

Then, in an instant, the flame sparks. The mountain of dry yearning goes up.

Every carefully constructed ploy is destroyed. 

Zayne kisses you like his life depended on it. Messy, clacking teeth, spit mixing and running down chins; hot hands grappling any inch of skin available. 

Your clothes were pushed off your body and onto the floor. Zayne’s luxurious vest and button down shirt was almost torn from his body by your eager hands. 

The bare lines of his torso and muscular thighs fit perfectly with yours, his body slotting in between your spread legs. 

Sharp lines bloom down his back, your nails dragging down his skin; his eyes almost rolling back into his head when he sinks into your heat.

“Shit,” he cusses, almost inaudible. The sound of wetness meeting in the darkening room, your moans and his heavy pants fill the air. 

Good girl. Move your hips like that. You’re doing so well for me. I love you. I love you. If you disobey me again, your punishment will be more severe. You’re everything to me, my Aurora. 

“Zayne!” your cry shatters like a bullet unloading from a smoking gun. He almost flinches back when you squeal right in his ear, back tensing and arching like a taut string.

Slipping a hand in between your bodies, he nudges and plays with your clit, drawing your high to an unbearable tension.

He feels your heels digging into his hips, your sweet pussy squeezing down on his length like the world’s most precious love declaration. You bury your face into his neck; feel his pulse fluttering against your lips.

“Inside,” you whimper, as if you could read his mind. “I want you inside, Zayne.”

He grunts, his entire body trembling from the force of the tight band around his lower body. 

Zayne ruts up into you, little more than an animal in heat—the ridges and bumps of your pussy gets him in a higher state of mind, delirious enough to start moaning shamelessly. 

You grip his face, touching your foreheads together. Zayne’s lips find yours, and within that split second you believe something fundamentally true. 

That in every life, every form, every stretch between space and time—you would never forget how his lips feel like on yours. 

A shuddering breath right on your neck. The twitch of his cock nudging right on your sweet, golden spot. 

You tense, toes curling—

—and shatter around his cock gloriously. 

Warmth spreads deep in your body, taking over your toes and fingers. Driving you heady with the taste of him on your tongue. 

Zayne finishes inside you, breathing hard against the shell of your ear. 

The silence is broken by his soft gasp, and you feel the wet pull of his cock out of your puffy pussy. Immediately, he replaces the emptiness with the full circle of his arms around your tired body.

You sigh, sticky and filled with longing, face protected right in the crook of his neck.

“Zayne?” 

“Hmm?” 

He plays with a loose lock of your hair. Not one for many words, Zayne’s actions speak louder and sweeter than any poetry you had ever read.

Rolling you over, he hovers close, lips gently brushing your cheeks, temple and finally, your lips.

“I love you,” your confession spurs something primal and tender in his soul. He kisses you once, twice, to wipe out the dark need to claim you again and again until every fiber of your skin is written with his name.

“I love you, too.” 

He presses one long kiss onto your forehead and chuckles to himself.

"Come on. Follow me to the kitchen. Don't think I forgot about those 8 glasses of water you didn't drink today..."

a/n: if this man wants me to watch for my health, i'll make sure my medical report comes back with an A+

— feedback and reblogs are loved in this house iykyk

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, translate, or claim as your own.

[sinstae]

TILL DAWN ᯓ‪♡

Pairings | L&D!Sylus , L&D!Zayne x fem. reader

Genre | smut

Word Count | 6,014 🥵

Warnings | ⚠️ MINORS DNI ⚠️ smut, smut SMUT, dom!Sylus , dom!Zayne, sub!reader, size difference, oral and vaginal sex, throuple! , poly, vaginal fingering, rough sex, soft sex, edging, pet names, use of evol, explicit sexual content! Enjoy! c;

🔖 m.list ♡

a/n ; oml I've had a looooooong hiatus uploading here 🙈 I became a full time reader tbh with how hectic life has gotten since becoming a young adult. Rough transition oof but AAAAA Love & Deepspace is such a nice outlet, LOVE the fics going around so I decided to write one of my own.. hope ya like 😋

I feel disgustingly desperate.

So much so, I can feel that ugly, tight, feeling claw at my chest. 

It’s another one of those nights where I try to initiate intimacy with my partners but they both shut me down. 

Zayne has been holed up in one of Sylus' spare rooms as a home office since he’d gotten off of work almost three hours ago and Sylus had shown up only twenty minutes ago with Mephisto perched on his shoulder.

We were both in need of one another and in each other’s embrace making out the entire time until now. . .

“Sweetheart. . . Don’t work yourself up, it’s late.” Sylus looks down at me, straddling his lap, with his hands rubbing my hips. I attempted to grind against him to earn that excuse. 

For the fifth time this week. 

I’m so pathetic.

I move from his touch when one of his hands leave my waist to reach for my face. I use his chest to gently push myself up, swinging a bare leg from his side. 

Before I could get far, Sylus snatches my wrist and hip, firmly pulling me back to straddle a single, tensed thigh. I look up at him a bit startled and his brows are pinched together, eyes burning red. 

“Sy-” 

“Pathetic?” I’m often careless when thinking loudly around him. His face shows that he seems almost offended that I’d thought such a thing. It almost makes me accept whatever he’s gonna tell me but I become slightly upset that he's acting on my thoughts rather than my blatant expression of needing him. 

“Yes.” I straighten my back. “Very. I guess I should’ve gotten the hint the third time, right? Instead here I am embarrassing myself for the fifth time.” I try to maintain fierce eye contact with Sylus but I feel my resolve slowly waning the more I think about their rejection lately. 

Sylus gives me a confused look then slowly his face relaxes as he chuckles, rubbing my inner wrist with his thumb. 

“Have I gotten my Kitten in heat?” 

“Sylus, I’m serious.” 

“Oh, I’m aware.” He fights back against my pulling with a strong hold and his eyes haze over as he looks down his nose at me. “Enough. Be still and talk with me-”

“I don’t wanna talk!” My voice raises and Sylus grows stiff, the creek of a door in the distance making him huff. 

Moments later, the steady shuffling of house slippers grows closer and Zayne walks into the open living room from the long hallway. Sylus has his back to him, only his silver head and broad shoulders visible with me facing Zayne. 

“What’s going on?” He asks calmly as he stops short, only walking a few feet into the candle-lit room. 

“I-” I begin to speak but Sylus cuts me off.

“Are you showing your face now?” His tone has annoyance behind it and I relax in his hold, caught off guard from him addressing Zayne in that tone. 

“Perhaps.” Is all Zayne offers. Sylus scoffs and makes eye contact with me for his next response. 

“Y/N, sweetheart, tell him your grievances.” I’m slightly confused as his eyes remain burning into mine until he moves closer to my neck. 

“I-I..uh, I’m upset, Zayne, because I’ve been trying to express my needs to you both but I feel it’s not welcomed.” The atmosphere feels thick, like it could be pierced with Zayne’s evol. 

“Would you care to share why that is, Doctor?” Sylus sounds a bit playful now. His flickering emotions are almost as hard to grasp as Zayne’s. 

“No.” 

This clearly enrages Sylus. He’s gentle but quick in his movements as he uses his evol to move me to the soft cushion of the sofa while in an instant he’s at Zayne’s side. I remain on my knees as I lean onto the cushion to watch them. 

“For how long will you keep this up?” Zayne lifts a hand to his neck and it’s such a sight to see him be this way. He’s normally composed, at even levels with Sylus, but right now he seems almost.. bashful.

“It’s not purposeful.” 

“Bullshit.” 

“I’ve had three surgeries this week-”

“Look at me.” Sylus demands him. When Zayne is hesitant to, Sylus reaches out and grabs the man’s face to gently bring his hazel-green eyes to meet his. “At least look at me if you’re gonna give me excuses.” 

I swear from here if I squint I can see blush dusting Zayne’s cheeks under the candles they’re standing next to. I can see they’re in some sort of silent/mental conversation and decide to make myself present again.

“Guys?” 

Zayne is the first to make a move and tuck his hands into his sweats as Sylus’ hand drops to Zayne’s waist instead. 

“What’s going on? Did I.. do something?” At my question they give each other looks before they’re both walking my way. I sit back onto my feet then transition to sitting correctly as they take a seat on either side of me, crowding my space with their scent. 

“Sylus and I. . We, uh-” Zayne stammers leaving me stunned at his behavior and from up close I can see that he is blushing.

“We kissed.” Sylus says for him and I whip my head in his direction, eyes surely wide as he’s smirking around the rim of his glass of wine.

“You- you- What?” I can’t contain my shock and I almost feel wrong as Sylus cocks a perfectly arched brow at me. 

“What? Don’t tell me you underestimate my influence, Sweetheart.” He leans forward to place the glass on the table and Zayne chuckles so soft it almost sounds like a scoff. 

“He’s insufferable even in such vulnerable moments.” Zayne refers to the kiss presumably and I start to grow guilty. I had been so caught up in my own needs that I really hadn’t noticed that something like that had happened. 

“Wow- well that’s great! That’s a huge step for you guys, I’m happy for you both.” I grasp their hands and Sylus squeezes mine while Zayne rubs his thumb across. 

“Tsk, don’t think our conversation is over. You have to talk as well.” Sylus reminds me and a wave of guilt washes over me once again.

“I’m really sorry about that, Sy. I was just overreacting without knowing-” 

“No, no. I heard your thoughts perfectly.” 

“What is it?” Zayne speaks up.

“Kitten has been all pent up through your brooding. Normally your absence isn’t an issue but your constant dodging had put me in a mood.” Sylus is sipping another half-full glass of wine. 

“You must be in relation to the recent attacks then. You upset the Wanderers nearby.” Zayne’s tone is almost scolding now.

“I’m sure. I also killed them all myself had I not?” 

I can barely focus through their banter as I stare at Sylus’ wine stained lips wishing he was leaving his kiss marks to stain my skin. Bite and suck his claim along with Zayne’s frosty touches leaving snowflakes and goosebumps in its wake. 

“Y/N?” Zayne’s voice brings me back and I blink up at Sylus who’s smirking down at me with a haze in his eyes. 

“Yes?” Zayne moves closer and I feel his warmth at my back, his soft sweater brushing against the exposed skin my short, satin-lace slip wasn’t covering. 

“I was talking to you, did you not hear me?” 

“No, sorry.” 

“Are you feeling alright?” Ever the caring man that he is, why can’t he see through me like Sylus sometimes? 

Zayne’s chilled hand comes up to rest on my forehead from behind me and I can’t help but lean back into his touch. Sylus takes his time as he moves about, undoing two more buttons from his dress shirt after he sets his empty wine glass back down. 

I watch as he wipes a bit of stray wine from his lips and with that same thumb he presses it to my lips. Once again rendering me to my spot in shock that quickly turns into relief. 

Finally I can have them again.

I quickly latch onto his thumb and suck the rich flavor from his salted skin. He looks pleased and his eyes flick up behind me.

“She doesn’t seem fine. We drove her into heat.” Sylus is still teasing and Zayne humors him in playing along. 

“Mmm. I see. There’s several remedies for such a thing. . . Does our patient require an eval?” I press my thighs tighter together as Sylus continues to stare into my soul, his large hands slowly drawing circles along my thigh closest to him. 

“Y-Yes please, Dr. Zayne.” I moan softly as Zayne’s hand resting on my forehead travels into my hair and along my scalp a few times in a firm massage. 

“Comfort levels seem to be just fine. . .” His hand then trails down the back of my ear, along the side of my neck and my breath hitches as he brushes a sensitive spot. “Hm, sensitivity is high.” 

I feel like prey in their gazes. They’re enjoying watching me squirm as they touch every bare part of me within their reach. Zayne is the first to lean into me and press a kiss to the area where my neck and shoulder meet, a bit of his tongue brushing against me. 

“I apologize. I failed to communicate to you both how I was feeling and ended up having you both doubt yourselves in some way.” He sighs against my neck then rubs his nose with a deep inhale. “I care about you both, so much, it was never my intention to upset either of you.” 

The sincerity laced in his words hits me in other places than my heart with their combined touches. This is what I love most about our dynamic, that Zayne will always communicate but only bluntly and when necessary. Sylus is blessed with his hands, even smoother with his mouth. It shouldn’t be such a surprise he’d gotten Zayne to open up, I was as closed off as he was. 

Sylus is looking over my head at Zayne and there’s a look in his eyes that contrasts the smirk adorning his lips. His lips. . . 

His eyes flicker down to mine and his gaze completely changes. Almost like a predator finding its prey. 

“Thank you, Doctor. My unseen wounds are healed. There is however, something very urgent that needs care.” Zayne is able to rest his back against the soft plush of the wide sofa with me pressed against him as Sylus moves to hover above me. 

“That is?”

“A wounded Kitten.” 

Sylus presses his lips to mine in a passionate kiss, his free hand he isn’t using to prop himself up has started to grip at the thick parts of my inner thigh. My body jerks into his hold as he swallows my soft noises, eventually licking his way into my mouth as his rough fingertips dance higher.

“You’re so responsive, Y/N. I love the sounds you make. . .” Zayne’s voice is breathy in my ear as his own hands start to wander. While Sylus has made his way to my panties, right against my slit, Zayne grips my breast over the thin layer of clothing. 

I break away from the kiss with a loud moan puffing from my chest, curling my toes from the intense sensitivity of my hardened nipples and Zayne’s icy touch. 

“Please. . .” 

“Begging already?”

“I’ve been begging.”

“Tsk, feisty kitty.” Sylus chuckles and presses a trail of kisses from the corner of my mouth down to my neck where he bites my soft spot. A whiny moan forces itself out of me as my eyes roll back, clenching around his two fingers that abruptly entered me at the same moment. 

Zayne looks down, shook from the noise that came out of me and Sylus soothes the area with a lick and a kiss whilst looking at him proudly. 

“She’s a goner right now, she’ll be back as soon as she feels my tongue.” Sylus is nonchalant as Zayne whispers praises in my ear, lulling me deeper into a pleasured haze. 

Two hard spasms around Sylus’ fingers then I’m coming hard. My cum drips down his wrist and veiny arm as he slowly curls his fingers upwards, rubbing a soft patch against my walls. 

“Good girl-” They both say at the same time, Zayne in a whisper while Sylus groans from the sight. They make brief eye contact before Sylus is diving down to my pussy, ripping another pair of panties in a haste. 

His mouth latches onto my clit and my eyes shoot open, blinking through warm tears as my legs curl up to my chest. Mixtures of whines and moans tumble from my lips while Zayne’s hand found its way under my slip against my bare breast, just resting, with my nipple between two fingers while the other has my cheek cradled while he presses kisses to my temple. 

“You’re doing so good, Darling. You haven’t squirmed once while getting cleaned up.” Zayne praises and I blush while biting back another moan. “Can I hear that pretty voice again, hm?” 

I look up at him with teary vision and he’s flushed, a bit of sweat making the tips of his hair damp. His eyes are full of awe and love. It makes me clamp around Sylus’ head which earns me a delicious groan against my clit. 

“A-Ah! It feels so-oh good.” I can barely get words out as my throat has grown a bit scratchy. It seems to satisfy Zayne as he leans in and presses his nose right up under my ear with another deep inhale. 

Moments later he’s pressing a cool, marble sized ice sphere to my lips and I part, humming in relief from the cool temperature and its quick melting that soothes my throat. 

Sylus sits up from his feasting, using his handkerchief to wipe my slick from his chin. He tosses it onto the coffee table and starts to rip the rest of my panties off while Zayne gently sits me up to adjust his hard erection. 

“However you like tonight Kitten, I’ve had my fill for now. I’m fine to wait in our bedroom.” Sylus’ large hand takes up most of my tummy as he rubs warm circles.

“No- I want both of you. Please. . .” A glint flashes in his crimson eyes.

“Y/N, are you sure?” Zayne gently rakes his fingers along my scalp. 

“Positive. Green, very green right now.” I see Sylus look over me at Zayne for a few seconds then he looks back at me. 

“Very well. Bedroom. Now.” He plants one foot on the fluffy rug then hauls me up with one arm over his shoulder. I yelp at the sudden change in axis and he playfully spanks my bare ass. 

Through my swaying hair I see Zayne following close behind as Sylus leads us to our shared bedroom. He kicks the door open with his foot and slips out of his own house slippers near the entrance. 

Zayne shuts us in the darkness then moments later our chamber is glowing in warm changing LEDs. I bounce on the bed a bit from Sylus’ gentle dismount then crawls backwards up towards the headboard.

“Let me-”

“Wait.” Sylus stops Zayne from rushing to me with a firm grip around the man’s waist. Zayne grabs the very arm and looks at Sylus in question, finding an expression with vulnerability. “This is our first time. All together. I’ll let you of course but, don’t neglect me Doctor.” 

Zayne blushes from the neck up and his grip tightens around Sylus’ forearm, holding him there before pushing his arm away. 

“I’m not your prey.” 

I make eye contact with him and he’s got a look in his eyes that doubles down on his words. He uses one hand to pull his shirt off in one swift motion, revealing his detailed, toned body. 

He’s been having trouble sleeping since adjusting to staying here more often and Sylus had offered to help with intense workouts. It’s starting to show at this moment as I notice his physique is almost as broad as Sylus’.

Slender, long fingers slip into his waistband and rids himself of his sweats in quick and precise movements. He kicks them to the side then he’s crawling onto the thick comforter towards me. 

I catch sight of his scars on his arm as he cages me in against the pillows in a plank and can’t stop myself from pressing gentle kisses. He allows me for a few kisses before he’s grabbing my chin and turning my attention to him.

I know my eyes must be teary with all my pent up dopamine finally releasing. I feel so incredibly happy and safe when I’m in their presence, I feel the urge to express it in the language I know best. 

Catching him while he’s off guard, leaning in to kiss me, I quickly wrap my legs around his thick thighs and use all my strength to propel forward into the kiss. I’m mindful to not headbutt him in the process while his body gives in and flips us successfully with me straddling him. 

Zayne’s hands steady our rocking bodies with a firm grip on my ass, huffing soft moans and grunts into the kiss. I hear a whistle from behind and it makes me break away slowly, saliva still connecting us as the weight of Sylus joining us makes my hips grind right onto the tip of his dick. 

“Ah~!” I gasp, clenching around nothing, aching to be filled up. My need to please Zayne is just as strong. For some reason, seeing him blush like that earlier from Sylus had me slightly jealous that it seems he could get the man to soften in a way I hadn’t before. I must hear his sweet sounds, for me.

“Kitten is digging in her claws. Careful, she might swallow you whole.” Sylus taunts while reaching out, resting his large hand over Zayne’s right one on my ass. 

The mix of their hot and cold touch has me reeling into Zayne, pressing sloppy aimed kisses to his lips that he doesn’t seem to mind receiving, returning each one. I feel Sylus other hand start to creep towards my pussy again and it snaps me back. 

“W-Wait.” I push myself up and look down to meet Zayne’s gaze. “I wanna taste you.” I don’t mean my words to come out in a plea but it does and I feel his grip on me tighten as he nods his head once.

Sylus gives me enough room to move, Zayne resting in a comfortable half sitting position as I arch onto my knees. As I’m nuzzling my face against his warm cock, a stinging pain shoots across my ass with a loud thwack!

“Ah!” 

“Don’t play with your food, Kitten. Be a good girl, and eat.” Sylus’ familiar tone of no-nonsense is back and I do as I’m told, gladly. 

Zayne helps me out of his briefs and I quickly toss them to the side, biting my lip as I take in all his glory. He reaches out and drags his thumb along my chin then pulls down, my lip slipping free of my teeth. 

“I love when you do that. . . I always know you’re about to treat me better than I deserve.” His words are soft spoken with eye contact unwavering. 

“My favorite thing to do is give you everything you deserve.” I take his base in a gentle grip and guide his red, leaking tip to my lips to press a kiss. His breath hitches while he maintains eye contact with me and I begin to kitten lick as another reminding spank makes me wrap my lips around him and suck. 

Zayne’s breathy moans fill the room, my gaze landing on him every now and then to see him watching me with a rosy face while he bites his fist. I’m sure to take my hands away and brace myself against his thick thighs then soon transition to a deeper arch as I slide my arms beneath his bent legs to wrap around his waist. Like this he’s able to thrust deeper into my throat, his moans start to turn into borderline whining when my nose hits his pelvis. My eyes roll back from the slight airflow restriction as he pumps a few deep strokes before pulling me away with a fist full of my hair. 

I feel my pussy leaking all over my thighs as I’ve been constantly twitching throughout. Zayne’s heated body is heaving as he takes in deep breaths, soothing my hair and puffy lips with his soft touches. I slip his thumb into my mouth and suck the salty taste from it, moaning for good measure. 

“Such a cock hungry Kitten. Always need a hole filled, hm?” Sylus is closer now, his warmth at my backside, while his hands reach out and slide up and down my bare sides from where my slip had ridden up. 

“Yes- Please Sy-” Another spank. “Sir! Sorry, Sir. M’so cock hungry I can’t think straight.” Zayne’s grip tightens on my chin at my words and I smirk up at him, not too shocked he’d like that title as well. 

When we’re intimate we’re mostly vanilla. He loves eating me out and leaving wet kisses all over before he’s satisfied enough to dick me down. Sylus loves to be the one in control, ensuring roles and rules that we both make and agree on so that when we’re in moments of passion we know each other’s limits. He’s keen on the title ‘Sir’ these days after I convinced him to sit with me through studying while he was in his office cleaning off his guns. I’d responded to a question with “Yes Sir” in a teasing tone that resulted in me bent over his desk, homework abandoned.  “Don’t think things are different just cause Zayne’s here, Sweetheart.” He takes two fingers and slides them through my wet lips, spreading and closing them to watch my slick drip out. With the same fingers he brings it to his cock he’d been freed long ago as he watched the show. His kitten giving the best head, almost envious of his partner. “Gonna fuck you open and I want you to continue, yeah?” I know it’s not a question as I dig my fingers into Zayne's hips while pressing mine back at the feel of his tip lining up.

"Yes, Sir." I give Zayne a toothy smile, his eyes lidded while he still struggles with his arousal. Seeing how Sylus and I interact with each other is clearly a turn on. His tip is constantly twitching and oozing precum that I lick up eagerly then slide his whole dick back down my throat.

"Fuck!" Zayne grips my hair in a tight, messy ponytail as his hips jerk upwards and he starts to subtly thrust through my bobbing until eventually I let him take the lead guiding my head while I leak all over Sylus's tip that easily slides in thanks to his skilled tongue.

There's many scenarios I'd daydream about when it came to having both my boyfriends at once. One did go a little like this but nothing compares to the real thing. Every little touch has me gushing and eager for the next.

Sylus has entered a bruising pace, he's found a spot nestled deep inside that only he can reach with his thick tip. It's snagging a bit, applying a pressure that we both feel. His huffing and deep moans spur me on, sucking Zayne as a release that earns me a beautiful whiny moan. His face is a deep blush, sweat now completely formed and streaking down his sideburns.

I can see in his gaze he's fighting to stay in the moment, too taken with pleasure. I feel a swell in my chest close to my heart as I moan around him. "Y/N, a-ha. . ." He's panting, unable to communicate and I hum around him, making him whimper again before tugging on my scalp, a cool sensation starting to caress my scalp.

"Zayne." Sylus voice booms in the room and it makes Zayne eyes widen. His arm is coated in soft flurries down to his wrist connecting to my hair which has partially froze at the base of the makeshift ponytail.

I let out a whiny moan myself as he gently pulls me off his dick with my built up saliva dribbling down to his balls. I pout up at him, my pout deepening as Sylus' slowed thrust come to a halt buried against my cervix.

"Zaaayne~"

"Kitten." Sylus warns. When Sylus barely offers any words I know his eyes must be doing the talking. Zayne has gotten control of his breathing, his legs returning flat to the bed.

"He's right, my love. I need to always be in control, I should never hurt you. Not when I can bring you pleasure, which is what you deserve." Zayne's hand falls from my hair as the flurries start to retreat and dissipate. My stiff ponytail melts and drops, cascading around my shoulders and back to meet Sylus' hands resting there.

I hadn't noticed, until I caught glimpse through teary eyes of the flurries vanishing, what happened and why things stopped.

Zayne had lost control of his Evol?

Something about getting Zayne to that point surges another wave of arousal through me. I know he'd never hurt me, no matter the circumstance, and him coming close to freezing my head in place for his own pleasure should frighten me yet. . . it makes me proud.

"Tsk. Just as I said, sick Kitten." Sylus smirks down at where our bodies meet watching and feeling my constant clenching. He delivers another spank, kneading my rosy flesh as it starts to redden into a large handprint. "She liked that, mmph- maybe even loved it."

"This is your doing." Zayne directs his comment towards Sylus.

"Aht- There will be no kink shaming in my bed. I can very well show you who's doing it really is." His eyes cut down to me, reaching a hand out to grip the back of my hair and tug me up against his chest, pushing deeper into my leaking cunt.

"Syl- mmh!" Sylus grips my throat, cutting off my words and a bit of air flow.

"Seems I'll be able to show you rather than play games with you, Doctor. This bad Kitten just can't seem to remember her manners." He lets out an airy laugh, "Clenching me tighter than a fucking Boa. Easy." He grits out while releasing my throat for me to breathe properly, moving his hands to my breast instead. He's kneeling back with me sitting in his lap, arched against his hands, squirming impatiently.

"Fine, since you're so eager to. Ride.'' I lift my hips soon as the words leave his lips and slam back down in relief. Sylus loves when I ride him. He always has me face him, demanding "I need to see those pretty eyes when you come undone". He must be doing this for Zayne, putting on a show for him.

One that he seems to be enjoying. He has his hand wrapped tightly around his cock, stroking up and down in slow, controlled wrist movements. He's using my drool as lube, squeezing when he gets to the tip to push out fresh precum.

Watching his lewd acts makes my hips speed up, hips rising higher towards Sylus' tip to slam back down. The silver haired man watches me in awe, toying with my nipples over the material as he huffs out soft moans.

"My lap is soaked, Darling. Ovulation must be here, hm?" Sylus leans forward to hug me close and lick a long stripe up my neck. I feel my belly burn with a familiar tightness as I clench harder, hips starting to slow as I reach my peak. "Tsk." Sylus takes control and slides his hands down to my waist, gripping firmly before absolutely pounding up into me.

"Ah! Yes- Yes, fuck, S-Sir feels s'good. . There!" Sylus hits a spot he's never struck before, a blinding pain shoots through me and my head snaps down on instinct, a few tears dropping onto a very prominent bulge. Sylus' mushroom tip pokes under my belly button with each thrust and pornographic moans fill the room from all three of us.

I catch sight of Zayne thrusting up into his fist, leaving just his tip in the tightest part of his grasp as ropes of cum shoot from his tip. It lands messily all over his hand, wrist, arm and abdomen. I clench around Sylus one last time before spasms hit as I come hard.

I squeal from Sylus' sudden deep thrust and bite to my neck as he too empties his load in my womb. Another thing he always does. Because of my job as a Hunter, I placed myself on birth control through Zayne but that doesn't affect Sylus' want/need of rounding my belly with his kids.

"Such a good fucking girl. . ." Sylus kisses his bite mark, proud of himself for leaving behind a reminder. "You squirted all over Zayne." Sylus chuckles as I look down with wide eyes to find Zayne covered in my juices, a thick string of it still connecting us. I look up to meet his eyes and he gives me a lazy smile.

"The most beautiful thing I've had the pleasure of being part of." Zayne speaks softly, his voice has an edge to it. His eyes trail down my body, stopping at where my slip falls to cover me when Sylus unwraps his arms from me. "Take it off."

Sylus wastes no time in my stead and I quickly raise my arms. He tosses it to the side and guides my arms back down, engulfing me into a self hug in his embrace. He breathes me in for a few seconds then he slowly unravels, pressing a kiss to my head before using my hips to gently remove me from his still erect dick.

"Come here, my little Snowflake." I can feel Sylus rubbing and gently pushing his cum back into me granting him soft moans. Once he's satisfied he gently nudges me forward and I nearly collapse onto Zayne but he's quick to catch me in a firm grip. "Aw, our sweet girl is tired?"

At the notion of not having Zayne inside of me I quickly shake my head, struggling a bit with shaky legs to crawl onto him. "No- No, please. I need you, Zay. Please-"

"Shh. There's no need to beg," Zayne's playful smile reaches his eyes as they crinkle in the corner and while staring into the comforting abyss of his irises I see his gaze slowly change as his eyes flicker between my eyes and lips. "Let me take good care of you."

He flips us similarly as I had earlier, only he cradles my head while supporting my back. His lips are slow and persistent against mine, I can taste his words. I love you's, I need you's- "I adore you so much, Y/N. This, with you both, means so much." He acknowledges Sylus, who is cleaned with a black towel resting across his waist as he sits against the headboard next to us.

His eyes are soft as he trails his fingertips along my scalp, inching his way down to brush them against Zayne's. While busy lining himself up, he slips his hand into Sylus' as he sinks inside.

"Hah~" His breath is warm against my open lips, soft moans sending him into a steady, needy pace. "Wanna fill you, my heart." His other hand struggles to find a spot to grip onto, over taken by my wet walls. I help him by guiding it to my breast, knowing that he loves to toy with them. Zayne catches on right away, placing a brisk kiss to my lips then trailing down to my neck. He nudges his nose near Sylus' marks then I feel his cold, wet tongue licking the area in prep for his own.

My entire body buzzes from their lustful craze. Both men are extraordinary when it comes to stamina in the bed and having to take them both tonight makes my pulse quicken, pussy clench, and toes curl. I want nothing more than to be completely theirs, forever and always.

"Y/N baby, I gotta move. Relax for me." Zayne's soft chuckle snaps me out of my haze and I blush, embarrassed from disassociating at a moment like now.

"I'm sorry-"

"Shh. . . Never be sorry for that, sweet girl. It's just- I need to release urgently."

I nod, willing myself to relax with a deep controlled breath and slowly I feel my walls loosen and Zayne twitches, grunting as his hips stutters forward, releasing a bit of precum. He presses a kiss to my temple then eases up into a kneeling position. I feel his thick cock slip deeper to my cervix sending a tingle up my spine.

Zayne is gentle and firm with gripping under my knees to push my legs back and onto his shoulders. He continues to rest inside while he leans into my left calf, pressing soft kisses and nibbles. When he hears my hitched breath and soft moans his hips start in slow, deep rolls.

My hands fly outwards to grip onto anything and my right lands on pining my right thigh to my chest while the other brushes Sylus' erect dick. He hisses and catches my wrist before I could do any damage, turning it to rub circles into my wrist with his thumb.

"Don't lose your mind just yet, Kitten." I know very well he's telling me to reserve energy for another round and with how deprived I've been I don't mind if they break me tonight.

I ease my wrist from his grasp and he allows me as I trail towards the black towel, flicking it with my fingertips to reveal him. He's warm in my palm as I struggle to grip him fully thanks to his girth. His touch to my scalp returns and anytime I grip him his fingers tugs deliciously. I try my best to keep with Zayne's thrust that have sped up, he's moved to my feet now, pressing kisses to my in-step arch.

"Fuck! Yes! There, please- Zayne!" I feel my stomach coil as quickly as it snaps, sending me into a quick intense orgasm. Sylus moves quick to kneel beside me, my hand slipping, as I watch him lean forward and grab the back of Zayne's neck. My eyes widen as he leads the flushed man towards him into a clashing kiss. For a moment they're still then Sylus leads the kiss, playing dirty tricks against Zayne to get him to open his mouth and lick into it.

I take Zayne's bruising thrusts and tight grip at my hip, feeling him swell and pump three hard times deep into my womb before spilling his seed. I feel warm, fuzzy and stuffed with cum. I whimper as he continues to rock into me with his soft hair brushing against my clit. Sylus' hand on his throat pushes him back from the kiss and Zayne's head droops as he sucks in air.

"Pull out." He listens and rests his hand on my tummy as he slowly pulls out trying not to bring his cum with him.

"Good-"

"Don't. Finish that." Zayne groans, gently pushing at Sylus' chest. He chuckles deeply, canines flashing as he leans in and steals a kiss from Zayne's cheek.

"Only if you promise to be just that."

And he does. They quickly understand each other as they work around my body for the rest of the night till Dawn.

[nanaslutt]

welcome to my second mlist!! <3

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

GOJO

ᑉ³ gojo’s valentine’s surprise

ᑉ³ jerking gojo off

ᑉ³ public fingering w/ transmasc gojo

ᑉ³ office sex

ᑉ³ sneaky sex ft. geto

GETO

ᑉ³ geto stealing gojo’s girlfriend (you)

ᑉ³ waking perv!geto up with head

ᑉ³ officer geto body searches you

ᑉ³ rough sex with perv!roomate geto

ᑉ³ geto panty wearer suguru

ᑉ³ using your vibe on perv!geto

ᑉ³ stuck in the dryer w/ perv!geto

SATOSUGU

ᑉ³ gojo cucking geto

ᑉ³ gojo x geto

ᑉ³ not so sneaky sex p.2

NANAMI

ᑉ³ baby making

ᑉ³ nanami teaching you to touch yourself

ᑉ³ nanami finger fucking you

ᑉ³ perv!nanami

ᑉ³ tag with nanami

TOJI

ᑉ³ playing with toji’s nipples

ᑉ³ best friends dad

ᑉ³ toji x reader x shiu

CHOSO

ᑉ³ tying choso up and making him watch you get off

ᑉ³ anal with choso

ᑉ³ choso controlling his dick with his technique

ᑉ³ jerking choso off + lactation kink

ᑉ³ choso making you squirt

ᑉ³ dry humping with choso

SUKUNA

ᑉ³ milking sukuna’s cock

ᑉ³ sukuna sucking himself off

ᑉ³ predator and pray play

ᑉ³ milking sukuna’s tits

ᑉ³ college au sukuna + public sex

ᑉ³ sub sukuna

ᑉ³ cockstepping

HIGURUMA

ᑉ³ nsfw alphabet w/ hiromi

URAUME

ᑉ³ nsfw alphabet w/ uraume

MULTI

ᑉ³ jjk men catching you masturbating

ᑉ³ jjk porn links

ᑉ³ assorted nsfw jjk headcannons

misc.

ᑉ³ itafushi getting together

ᑉ³ virgin choso

ᑉ³ dry humping with itsuomi

ᑉ³ virgin konig

ᑉ³ shiu perving on tojis girlfriend

ᑉ³ yuta fluff

ᑉ³ raphael eating you out

ᑉ³ teasing zayne

ᑉ³ giving ino a handy

ᑉ³ first time prostate massage with ino

[chryssikyu]

Kinda wanna see a problematic Francis Moses smut where Y/N abuses their power. Making him prove he's real...

Sorry for not posting for so long! I have a number of ideas for JJK characters and I'm thinking of writing a short story for a certain Blue lock character (haven't decided who yet, but probably Kunigami since he's my fav)

Also, the last option will probably be a crack-fic though I'll still put just as much effort into it as I would in any other post

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐲 | 𝐒.𝐌𝐆 ♡

Day Sixteen Special - Collaring

【Synopsis】 : Who knew Mingi would be into collars.

『Word count』 : 1.87k

-> Genre: Pwp. Non!idol au

Pairing: Bf!Mingi x Gf!Reader

[Warnings] : Making out. Hickies. Bite marks. Fucking on a rocking chair (yes thats a warning). Unprotected sex. Dirty talk. Pet names. Switch leaning Sub Mingi. Switch leaning Dom reader. Use of the name Mistress. Mingi likes to whimper. Photographs, hehe.

Note: Sooo if anyone knows what Love and Deepspace is... uh, this fic is inspired by Sylus in a collar and the rocking chair card with Zayne.. enjoy hehe. ♡♡

This is my second day of @whatudowhennooneseesyou 's kinktober event. Please make sure to check out all the other fantastic writers who have also joined this event ♡

Network: @k-vanity @cromernet @wonderlandnet @illusionnet

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List | Tip Jar ♡

You were baffled at first when you found out Mingi loved chokers. More so, he loved them more than just a simple fashion statement. The first time you found him eyeing the collars in a Gothic store, your mind wandered to the extent of your lover boy's obsession. And that’s when you found yourself noticing Mingi’s quick glances at the various collars on the wall in the local sex shop. You needed to stop in to buy some lube and condoms since you had run out, but you had decided to have a look around as well. To skillfully watch your lover's reaction, of course. Truth be told, you just wanted to see what Mingi might be into. Your relationship wasn’t new at all, but Mingi and you had yet to try anything outside the basics. Mingi knew what he liked, and he showed confidence in the bedroom a lot. But you, on the other hand. You had no clue. Mingi was your first real committed relationship, so exploring new things was something you both wanted to do.

So this is how you ended up standing right where you are now, collar in hand, feeling the soft leather between your fingers. Mingi was too busy chatting with the clerk about the lube options to notice the item in your hand at first. But when the staff left for the front desk, you sprung into action. Opening the collar, you reached up to hold it against Mingi's neck. He was surprised to say the least, taking a moment to stumble with a confused expression. “W-what are you doing, princess?”

“Just looking.” You giggled, smiling ear to ear as you took in the collar. The metal buckle in the front of it displayed so prettily against Mingi's strong features, while the leather complimented his skin tone. “We need to get this.” You expressed with urgency, looking up at him with bright eyes.

“Y-you want me to wear a collar?” Mingi could feel himself get hard embarrassingly quickly, his palm slightly rearranging his junk inconspicuously. He didn’t think you would be into collaring him. Heck, he didn't know he would be into it, but here he is. “You sure?”

"Oh, I'm more than sure. You would look so cute in nothing but a collar, Min.” Your smile was way too innocently sweet for what had just spilled from your lips. Mingi’s hand came up to grab yours in order to pull the collar away from him before quickly leaning down and whispering in your ear.

“If we don’t get home right now, I might just cum in my pants.” That was all you needed to hear as you both raced for the front counter before running off with cheeky smirks and hushed giggles. The store clerk obviously knew exactly what you two were going to get up to, but neither of you seemed to mind as you both quickly got back to your cozy home in no time. Mingi almost practically broke the front door down with the way he was shaking with the keys tightly in his grasp. But once he got the key into the lock, it was game time.

Shoes and jackets were left in a pile by the entrance; clothes trailed the hallway. Mingi had meant to land on the couch when he picked you up, but you both ended up on the rocking chair in the corner from him tripping on the carpet. Your hand braced on the dark brown leather, sitting up to see your lover’s lust-hazed expression, “Are you okay?” You huffed weakly with a growing smile.

“Better than okay.” Mingi’s lips found yours in haste, his hands squeezing your bare hips while his fingers danced along the hem of your pants. The collar was still tightly in your left hand, while your fingers dug into the cushion. “You smell so delicious, you know…”

Mingi's moans were muffled against your bra-covered tits as he kissed along the top of your chest. Your legs were on either side of his right thigh, letting him lift up the limb so he could press it against your clothed cunt. You sat up, making the chair rock back and forth, your clit rubbing firmly on his thick flesh. You had to bite your lip as you tried to compose yourself, unbuckling the collar with your shaky fingers. “You ready, big boy.”

“You have no idea.” He grunted, pushing his leg up to rock you gently on his leg. If you weren't so desperate to get this collar on him, you would have lost yourself in the pleasure. But you shook the feeling aside, snaking the leather around his exquisite neck. You looped the buckle, fastening the leather, smirking as you watched your gentle giant roll his eyes back slightly.

“Tight enough?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. Mingi’s hand grips your hips harder, his nails digging into your skin as he lets out a noise you’ve never heard from him.

“A little more...” he panted, bucking his hips as the rocking chair kept a steady sway. You followed his request, watching as his brows knitted together weakly and his bottom lip sank between his teeth. He was enjoying this a lot more than you and you couldn’t help but smile at that thought. Your finger slotted in the little half hoop that dangled in the front, before tugging him sharply, making the chair rock forward. He whimpered, his eyes snapping open to look at you pleadingly, your big dom baby was now nothing more than a pathetic mess beneath you.

“Such a pretty boy. You enjoying this baby?” You had no idea where your boost of confidence came from, but you ran with it. Maybe it was the way Mingi looked at you with such submissive eyes or the way you could feel his cock twitch through the thin fabric of his boxers.

“Yes…” He sighed, using the rocking chair to keep you grinding on him steadily. This is when you leaned down to whisper in his ear, your breath tickling his neck gently…“Yes, what?”

Mingi’s mind wandered for a moment, but his mouth moved before he could get in another thought, watching as the words slipped off his tongue without any fight, “Yes, mistress.”

Fuck, if that didn’t almost make you come. The higher pitch in his tone, the way he hiccuped in with the 'm’ to the word. To think Mingi couldn’t get any more perfect, then he pulls this shit. Your hand doesn’t leave the collar while your other moves from the head of the rocking chair to his clothed cock, nimbly pulling it out of its confinement. “Such a good boy.” You purr, stroking his cock firmly. Mingi’s hips buckled and his leg that was held against you dropped, making you get to work by pushing your soaked panties to the side. “You need my pussy big boy?”

“Y-yes. Please. Mistress. I need to feel you so badly.” Mingi felt tears welt on the corners of his beseeching eyes. Shifting quickly with a smug smile, you placed your legs on either side of him, slightly wobbling from the chairs' increasing rocking. Your cunt was directly over his cock, the tip just barely touching, letting him feel the heat drip from your body. His eyes sewn shut as he begged, “Please, hurry. I need it. I need to feel your pretty pussy wrapped around me.”

You were a little stunned, granted a little taken aback. You never thought you’d be into being on top or dominating a man, but here you were, growing more and more turned on by your giant baby's begs and pleas. The way he was crying to feel you. The way he called your mistress. It brought a new and thrilling tingle in your belly. So you bit your lip, slowly lowering yourself onto his cock, feeling every inch sink deep inside you with each passing breath. Yours and Mingi’s moans were harmonised as you both felt like you became one at this very moment. Your eyes fogged over, watching your lover thrash lightly under you while he used the rocking chair to tug you forward, the rest of his length bottoming you out. Mingi’s hands that were still on your hips moved to your ass, his feet planting on the edge of the rocking chair legs, using his strength to rock the chair, so your body would grind against him without the need to thrust his hips. “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.”

“Min…Argh.” Your hand found its place against the head of the chair once more, but the hand that still held onto the hoop of the collar tugged, hard, causing Mingi to let out a beautiful gasp, his cock twitching at the painful pleasure. Your fingers untangled from the collar to grab his chin, turning his head to the side so your lips could latch onto his soft, heated skin. “Such a pretty boy. I told you, you’d look good in nothing but this collar.”

It was like something snapped in Mingi’s head when he heard those sweet words leave your lips. Bringing his knees up, he fucked up into you with passion, precision, and determination. Your light nibbles turned to bites, as you latched your mouth against his shoulder, screaming as you chomped down onto his flesh. Mingi roared from the pain mixing with pleasure, snapping his hips faster, while snaking a finger to your clit to help you reach the end. It all happened so fast, you swore you saw a white light cloud your vision as you came all over Mingi’s cock. He drilled into you a few more times before he came too, emptying his load heavily inside your abused cunt.

“Fuckk…” You sighed, sitting up slightly to see the hickies littering his neck and the bright bite mark decorated on his shoulder, topping off with the delicate leather tightly bound around his perfect neck. “Pretty boy.”

“Don’t call me that right now. I’ll fuck a baby in you if you’re not careful.” Mingi panted, his chest rising and falling quickly. You just simply chuckled, hopping off him. He watched you shakily walk over to his jeans, taking out his phone that was still in his pocket. While you bent down, he could see his cum dripping down your thighs, making him groan, stroking his already half-hard cock.

You waddled over, sitting back on him with a cheeky smile. Turning on the camera to snap a picture of his destroyed neck, to show him your work. You watched his expression redden when you showed him what he looked like, watching the fire burn in his gaze when you whispered, “Pretty boy."

[distantdarlings]

ACROSS YOUR SKIN // t. nott

RATING: R / 2.6K WORDS

Theo Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* During a Quidditch practice, you accidentally harm Theo and you both learn something new about him.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! Sub!Theo, Dom!reader, Oral sex (male giving, fem receiving), consensual hitting, heavy kissing, language, Quidditch injury, fem reader (lmk if I missed something) (not proofread)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Sweat - ZAYN

- - -

The entirety of this practice had shot by like a knife through air. You could feel the air slicing across your body, penetrating your Quidditch uniform.

The darkened clouds overhead danced along the horizon, concealing the golden sun from the pitch. Your eyes scattered across the field in an attempt to locate the Seeker.

In a flash of green and black, a robed bolt of lightning shot across the pitch, heading downward toward the smallest glint of gold. The Snitch.

You shot your head up, and just as you did, a Bludger sped around the edge of the arena, heading straight for him. You clenched your jaw and angled your broom toward the speeding bullet.

“Blaise!” you shouted over the whoosh of the brooms around you. The boy’s dark eyes found yours quickly.

“Head that off!”

Despite Blaise’s position on the team, he caught sight of the flying Bludger and raced off toward it once he realized you wouldn’t catch it in time.

Today's game was a sort of scrimmage for the Slytherin team to practice. Your team often did this instead of running drills like the Gryffindors. Your teammates found they were better if they practiced the way they played—and you’d have to agree. The game got your heart racing, not stupid drills.

Just as Blaise reached the Bludger, he caught the edge of the heavy object with the tail-end of his broom, using its vortex of built-up speed to send the small ball hurtling toward you.

You gripped your bat, and just before it collided with your arm, you swung wildly. The force of the Bludger hitting your bat sounded like thunder.

You watched as it slung off in the direction of the opposite team’s Quaffle.

You admitted that in the heat of the game, you didn’t consider that the opposite team wasn’t really that; it was your team pretending to be another.

“Watch it! Sorry!” you shouted.

Theodore Nott was in a spiral towards the ground, chasing after the Quaffle Berkshire missed, when the Bludger clipped the end of his broom.

His broom stuttered at the impact and sent him circuiting in the opposite direction. With a deepened yelp, he was thrown violently through the air.

“Theo!” you shouted. You gripped the handle of your broom and pushed it toward the ground. Your hair whipped wildly around you as you rocketed toward the boy who now lay collapsed against the damp sand.

Just before you reached the ground, you pulled up and lept off of the wood, running to gain your balance on the uneven ground. You sped toward the motionless boy, trying to keep your footing.

“Theo!”

The game above you had ceased, and other teammates began to drop behind you, trying to reach the two of you.

You dropped down to your knees beside him and laid your body across his. Your gloved hands gripped his shoulders and shook him roughly, trying to stir some consciousness, but there was nothing.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, fretting endlessly. You pressed your cold hands to his face in an attempt to shock him awake. Nothing.

“Fuck, Theo! Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

You were shaking him and shaking him and—

“THEO!” You brought your hand down across his face swiftly, skin meeting skin in a fiery clap.

Theo’s eyes shot open with a small gasp. A deep sigh of relief pushed from your lungs, and you leaned your forehead against his in a moment of weakness.

Your skin pressed against his, the beads of sweat intermingling like a crown of frost. Your gloved fingertips were gently against his cheeks. Both of your lips were parted, breaths heavy and relieved.

“I wonder if you’d ever do that to me again, bella,” his raspy voice purred against your ear.

“Ugh!” You wrenched yourself away from him, relief turning to annoyance. Of course, he’d take this moment to say something sexual.

“Alright, that’s practice! Everybody get washed up—I’ll get Nott to the infirmary.”

With that, a few of your teammates helped Theo toward the pitch’s exit, and the rest of you headed back for a cold shower.

***

It was a Friday evening which meant that all of your roommates were out for the evening—flitting about Hogsmeade, studying in the library, or whatever. You’d been invited out, but you were unbelievably sore from this afternoon’s practice. Be it because you’d pushed your body as hard as it could go during the actual practice or because you’d practically dove off your broom to get to Theo, you didn’t know. Either way, you were taking an early night.

You were, anyway, until you heard a knock at your door.

At first, you’d just assumed it was one of your roommates checking in for the night, but you were sure you hadn’t locked the door.

You rolled over and faced the thick wooden door, waiting for another knock, just in case you’d imagined it. You didn’t want to get up if you didn’t have to—especially after you’d already gotten so comfortable.

Another knock came to the door, this time a bit quicker and rougher.

You suppressed a sigh and yanked your covers back, headed toward the door at the end of the room. Whoever it was had better have a decent excuse for interrupting your rest. Every step you took felt like a dagger shooting up your legs and back.

The minute your fingers wrapped around the door handle and pulled it back, a tall figure pushed past you and into the room.

“Hey, what—” you began to protest before a voice interrupted yours. It was the same rasping, deep voice from earlier on the Quidditch pitch—one you knew all too well.

“Please, bella, let me stay,” he begged, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t get you out of my head.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. This was Theo. The two of you had been on the same Quidditch team since you were eleven, you knew everything there was to know about each other. Except how badly he apparently wanted you, it seemed.

“Theo, I—”

“Please,” he spoke, eyes wide and wanting. “I won’t tell anyone, I swear. Just let me have you—just this once.”

“We can’t do this…we’re in the same house, on the same team, we’d just fuck everything up!” you tried to reason with him. There were a thousand reasons why nothing romantic should ever happen between you and Theo and zero reasons why they should, yet…the way he stared at you with such desire imprinted in his oceanic eyes had your knees weak.

“Please, I will do anything to have you,” he said. His voice cracked beneath the weight of his desire, the volume little more than a pathetic whisper.

And just as you were about to turn him away for the final time, he sank down to his knees just before you. His hands reached out for you, asking wordlessly to touch you. When you didn’t pull away, his shaking fingers made contact with your bare legs.

One arm curled around one leg, and the other pushed between your thighs. With begging strength, he pulled himself to you, pressing his shuddering, parted lips gently against your flesh. The feeling of his hot breath against your skin sent chills across your body.

Your eyes fluttered for a fleeting second as you imagined the possibilities—ones of you tangled within the sheets and devouring every inch of his body.

“Please,” he practically whined the word, his breath hot and panting against you. His hands clutched your legs endlessly, his lips across your skin, your fingers curling in his hair. You didn’t really recall doing that. Fuck.

“Okay, Teddy,” you whispered. His head shot up quickly, and his eyes searched yours. He looked in disbelief as if he hardly believed you’d ever say yes.

“But you do everything I say.” You removed one of your hands from his curls to trace the knuckles down the length of his cheek.

“Yes, bella,” he sighed, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your hands on his skin.

His breath caught in his throat as your next words hit his ears. His eyes glanced up at you only for a moment before he was slipping his trembling fingers beneath the fabric of your night shorts.

His touch felt like fire along your flesh, melting and scarring everything it touched. Your head tilted back slowly as he worked the clothing down your legs, his movements slow and methodical.

Just as soon as they were on, your shorts pooled on the floor around your ankles, and Theo pressed his nose to your core, eliciting an electric response from you.

Your fingers tightened in his curls as the tip of his nose bumped against you. It was clear from his slowed breathing and caressing lips that he wanted to touch you badly. But still, he listened.

When giving instructions, you had told him to pull your bottoms down and to place himself just before you but not to touch you yet. You wanted him to beg even more. You loved how pathetic he sounded.

“Baby,” he whispered against your skin, hot breath flowing down your legs. His pale eyes stared up at you with desperation leaking around the edges. His eyebrows furrowed deeply, begging you to allow him to touch you. His fingers practically vibrated along the edge of your skin, every other shudder forcing him to come into contact with you.

“What do you say, Teddy?” you breathed, your eyes fluttering shut.

“Please…,” he whispered, his fingers curling tightly into the fabric of your nightshirt. “How many times shall I say it? I’ll say it a thousand times if I have to.”

“Just once more, then you can touch.”

“Please, my love.” His voice was soft and cracking. The words he chose made your head spin, making you wonder what kind of feelings he was truly harboring for you. Were they purely sexual or perhaps something more? You weren’t sure. It was a question for another day.

“Touch me, Teddy.”

With a shuddering exhale, he pressed his mouth to the core of your body in a hot, languorous motion. At the feeling, your fingers returned to their station in his hair, pulsating against his scalp. Your head rolled back against your shoulders. Your throat strained against the flesh of your neck, sending sparks of sound down through your chest at every moan that exited your lips.

He destroyed you sweetly from the outside in, feasting on you like fruit in the summer. His desperation to touch you, to taste you, to fuck you was pulsing through him like a bullet. Your legs began to shake beneath the feeling of his lips on you.

When he realized your knees had begun to shake, he wrapped his arms around your thighs and pushed you up and over onto your bed.

As your back hit the length of your mattress, a soft gasp left you as you realized his lips had never left you. He had never pulled away from you despite the motion. He had never pulled away, and your end was rapidly approaching.

“Close,” you whispered to the air. At the word, Theo’s hands clutched around your hips tightly, pulling you even closer to his mean mouth. A yelp escaped your lips at the sudden intensity of his tongue. Nothing could have ever prepared you for the feeling of the boy beneath you.

His eyes refused to leave you. They resembled that of a predator in the wild feasting on his prey, with no regret of what he was consuming. He could have eaten you whole right now, and you would not have felt any less pleasure.

Your fingers wrapped into the duvet beneath you, pressure increasing with each second. The breaths entering and exiting you increased heavily as your body skated closer and closer to the edge.

A small groan from Theo’s mouth sent shockwaves up the length of your body. The fuzzy feeling pooled in your head at the base of your skull and neck. You weren’t going to last much longer.

You glanced down to warn Theo that he would have to move away when you registered what the boy beneath you was doing. His eyes, now peacefully shut, refused to falter despite his body's motion.

His hips rolled roughly into the edge of your mattress, pushing pleasure through the rest of his body. His eyebrows began to knit into a rough line just as you began to tip over the edge of your mind. Your head rolled back against your pillow, Theo’s mouth showing no mercy despite the pleasure he was now giving himself.

You could barely stand to hold onto the comforters above you anymore; the only thing you could bear to grip was Theo’s honeyed curls, and with each tug to the delicate strand, he’d release another moan against you.

In a second, you fell over the edge, cascading into an overwhelming high that rose your body away from the bed. No matter how far into it you were, Theo refused to slow down and moved you through the whole moment, never relinquishing his mouth’s movements.

You finished with a cracking groan and shuddering legs. The weight of Theo’s hands against your thighs barely kept them from rising off the bed.

He chuckled evilly, a mixture of slick and spit running down his chin and neck. His lips were swollen and reddened, begging to taste your mouth.

He began to crawl up the bed towards you, but you stopped him with a foot placed delicately on his chest. You shook your head weakly and angled your head towards the obvious problem that had blossomed beneath his trousers. A lazy smirk spread across his lips.

“Finish,” you demanded, your eyes heavy and lidded, your lips parted and panting. The sweat from your exertion bled down your neck and between your breasts.

“Please, bella, let me touch you—”

“No, you’ve touched me enough,” you whispered. “Finish yourself in front of me.”

He swallowed thickly, the motion of his throat sending a shiver across your arms. He was the perfect specimen of a man, you could hardly stand it.

And when his hands dropped to separate the button and zipper of his pants, you could have come again. His hands slid across his slick stomach and pressed against himself.

His eyes screwed shut, and a slight hiss left his lips at the sensation. There was something so empowering about watching him do anything you told him to. It felt absolutely perfect, and you never wanted to stop.

His free hand rose to his face and slid the remaining sheen from his mouth across himself, the scent of you mixed with the consistency had him very quickly rolling his hips into his fist. He groaned against the feeling, bracing himself on the mattress just above you.

His eyes could barely hold yours, yet every time they fluttered shut, you laid a light slap to his cheek.

“Keep your eyes on me, Teddy,” you whispered. The skin on his face was becoming redder by the moment, but every time your hand came into contact with his cheek, he seemed to get closer to his climax. You never would have pegged Theo as someone who wanted to be hit by his partner, but it seemed to be working wonders for him. He was pathetic and begging for more after two or three hits. It felt perfect.

“That’s it, Teddy, that’s it, baby,” you whispered against his swollen lips. “Take it.”

And within a few moments, he was groaning and releasing himself against his hands, and you were pulling his lips to yours by his hair and devouring him just as he’d done to you.

Tag List: @lilymurphy03, @mypolicemanharryyy, @clairesjointshurt, @bunbunbl0gs, @acornacreacure, @niktwazny303, @thestarlithideout, @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw, @yhiiil, @ravenclawprincess33, @xxrougefangxx, @thatblackthorn, @robinyx, @starsval, @jolly4holly, @blvebanisters, @chgrch

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

LaDS Boys when their S/O' sees a Bad Doctor's Doctor won't Listen (Rafayel, Xavier, Zayne, Sylus)

I hate dealing with shitty doctors. I really do.

Rafayel x fe!reader, Xavier x fem!reader, Zayne x fem!reader, Sylus x fem!reader

Rafayel

Raf isn't usually my favorite--in large part because we'd be the biggest disaster couple on the planet--but I feel like in this case, he'd be great

seriously, the moment the doctor stops listening, thr doctor gets the full force of Rafayel's aloof, arrogant demeanor

Raf is not the kind of person who hesitates to be a Karen if he thinks it's appropriate. And messing with his person definitely counts

Doctor: blah, blah, blah

Raf: Excuse me. I'm taking my person and we're leaving

Then you go get something to eat while he makes sure that you're ok because it's pretty disheartening to be not listened to by medical "professionals"

Xavier

he isn't with you at the doctor (probably at home sleeping or fighting wanderers) but he sees you crying when you get home

obviously he's not particularly happy to see you crying

his first priority is comforting you, maybe cuddling or inviting you to nap

then he insists you change doctors and the two of you do research to find a doctor who will listen

Zayne

As if this would ever happen

I can't see Zayne letting this ever be a problem to start with

He knows all of the best doctors in different fields

And even if the person you saw wasn't the best, just knowing that you're THE Doctor Zayne's S/o, I don't think they would dare try to give sub par care

I mean if they did, it might end their careers. Zayne would not hesitate to warn others away from that provider and Zayne's words hold a lot of weight

Sylus

Uh, you didn't tell Sylus what happened when it first happened

I mean, Sylus doesn't really hesitate to kill people and fucking with his kitten would piss him off.

Nobody messes with his kitten. They just don't

Of course, he found out about it. Mephisto was probably skulking somewhere in your vicinity while you were upset about it. And even if he hadn't seen through Mephisto's eyes, he'd have figured out when he asked you about the appointment

Sylus: How was it?

You: fine

Sylus: you sure about that, sweetie?

To his credit, he doesn't do anything to extreme. Much. He wants you to see that doctor one more time with him in tow, just so that he can tell the doctor they're fired in person

I don't think he'd kill the doctor, but he's certainly not above threatening them to make sure you get the care you deserve

The next doctor you see his one that he has personally vetted