#zayne li x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hauntedhokage · 19 days ago

Text

this is going to be the longest friday of your life

word count: 9.7k

warnings: references to sex explicit sexual content

[read on ao3] [masterlist] [ko-fi]

“You’re up early.”

“Could say the same to you.” You mumble back, pushing his hair back so you could clearly see him while his eyes try to focus on the new light of the room. He’d been working hard the last few days, you’re confident this is the first morning all week that he’d woken up in a bed and not his office chair or an unused gurney left in a hallway. “Sleep well?”

“Getting to sleep in bed with you is always preferable.”

“I’m glad I could inspire you to take me to dinner and to bed, then.” His smile as you speak is warm, full of adoration that makes your heart flutter with your own smile stretching across your face. “Could I possibly inspire you to make breakfast?”

“I can be bought.”

“How so?”

“Kiss tax, plus a few extra, and I’ll even make the coffee.”

You pretend to think about it, finger tracing patterns against his bare chest as his hand carefully caresses your jaw. There’s a clench to his jaw that you catch, reflective of the urges you knew he was fighting to repress for the sake of whatever moment it was that you were sharing in your bed - urges that you’d press with hope that he’d let himself go again like he had the night before. “I think we have a deal.”

His own fingers dance across your lips before he leans in, the feather light sensation replaced by his soft lips that somehow still tasted of his minty chapstick. His kiss is languid, your movements still affected by the haze of the lingering sleepiness mixed with the warm bed sheets and body heat. His hands pull you to roll with him so you’re laying on him, holding you by your hips to keep you with him.

“Does that only count as one? Or can we make that two?”

“I’ll have to think about it.”

Not that it mattered, the rumbling of your stomach was enough to cut off any escalation of your physical intimacy with Zayne for a while. He carefully sits up, keeping you in his arms until you’re both upright before he’s depositing you to sit beside him so he can stand then help you to your feet.

“You always look so cute when you steal my clothes.”

You look down at the green long sleeve you had picked up on your way back from the bathroom last night, one of Zayne’s oversized shirts that he slept in but was now serving a higher purpose - not just keeping you warm, but also keeping you cute for your boyfriend. Cute wasn’t a normal word for Zayne, but you were going to take it and savor it because you liked being cute for him.

So cute that he keeps you perched on the counter, passing a mug of coffee between you that you have to turn around and refill as he cooks. Your kiss tax for breakfast is paid in full at least twice over by the time he’s helping you down so you can make your way to the table with your plate and coffee to eat.

“Thank you for cooking, Zayne.”

“It’s never a hassle for you.” His assurance has you smiling as you bite into your toast, warm with the knowledge that he enjoyed taking care of you. “Is there anything you’d like to do today?”

“Not really. Let’s just see where the day takes us and, if it’s just laying on the couch then that’s fine by me.”

The faint sound of a ringtone can be heard from the bedroom, and you pause mid-bite as you focus your hearing on the noise. That was your phone, and Zayne nods when you tell him as you stand from your chair so you can half-jog to the bedroom to see who was calling. Your hope that it was just someone inviting you out is squashed when Jenna’s name lights up your screen, and you can only redirect your hope in the direction that she’s only checking on you instead of needing you in the field.

That hope is squashed as soon as you hear her tone on the other line, laced with apologies unspoken for calling on your day off. But apparently Xavier needed your help with a Wanderer he’d been tracking, and that was a big enough deal for having your day interrupted.

“...If Xavier wasn’t specifically requesting you, then-”

“Yeah, I know Captain. I’ll be out there ASAP.”

And you know that he knows exactly what had just happened, knows what you’re about to tell him when you reappear wearing your usual combat pants, but you still have to brace yourself for the words to leave your mouth.

“I hate to dine and dash, but-“

“I know, duty calls.” He doesn’t look surprised nor disappointed, only shooing you towards your bedroom as he stands from the table. “Go finish getting ready, I’ll make some coffee for you to take with you.”

You nod, starting to head that way but quickly doubling back to steal a kiss from him. “You’re the best.”

“I try to be.”

“Hey Xav,” you greet, sneaking up on him for once and laughing when his startled expression meets your own smug grin.

“I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

“Extremely. Even more proud that you requested my help.”

“I stole your kill yesterday, this is a courtesy.”

“Sure, whatever you say.” You check your gun one last time, nudging him with your elbow to signal that you were ready to move. “You just like spending time with me.”

“I won’t argue that, partner.”

You listen as he tells you about the wanderer he’d been tracking this morning, now aware of why he’d requested your backup as he explains that this wanderer was being drawn to a Luminivore that he’d been trying to pin down for about a month. He didn’t want to risk letting it go, and after this long it would be strong - better to get the help than not and risk it getting even stronger by feeding off more wanderers.

When you do find it, the battle is difficult. The creature was more unpredictable than any wanderer you’d come face-to-face with, moved faster and was all around nasty - even Xavier had been caught off guard a couple times and was reliant on his speed being greater and trusting in your aim being steady and not shooting him by accident. Aiming at blurry subjects was never easy, and you're grateful that you hadn’t come close to hitting Xavier even once throughout the battle despite what you felt were a couple close calls.

“This restaurant just opened today.” Xavier tells you as you walk through the city, having relaxed from the tough battle. “I figured it was something we could try together.”

You nod, not looking up from your phone while you texted Zayne to let him know your mission had gone well and that you were going to get lunch with Xavier. You don’t expect an immediate response so you pocket your phone so you can give Xavier you full attention.

“I was given a flier the other day on my way to the no-hunt zone.” It’s a simple explanation that makes perfect sense, and you nod again while teasing him for being able to sniff out a new restaurant in town without the help of a promotional flier. He rubs his neck as he agrees, earning some nudges from your elbow to his side as you enter the building.

He orders a roast beef sandwich while you go with the waitress’ recommendation, and you’re pleasantly surprised by the chicken salad that’s put in front of you just ten minutes later. There’s discussion between you and Xavier about the fight, as you need the additional reassurance that you hadn’t come close to hitting him with any of your shots while he’s happy to make you feel better about that. Next you talk about any plans you might have for the rest of your day off, since you both already know that he’s going back to sleep after exerting so much energy on the wanderer.

When you leave you’re happy

“Careful.” Xavier comments, his hand tugging you back by your collar to get you out of the narrow crosswalk just in time to avoid the truck barreling through the intersection. A good call, since the vehicle was huge and probably would have killed you if he hadn’t pulled you out of the crosswalk.

“Katie!?”

You both turn at the sound, your eyes seeing the woman rushing into the intersection before they find that she was rushing towards. A young girl, no older than twelve, was laid in the center of a growing group of people. Xavier is already calling for help as you move in to push the crowd back to give the girl and her mother space, but the whole time you can only think about the fact that it was almost you in that position.

Maybe it should have been you? Better you than a kid, right?

The thought haunts you through the rest of your day. You’d come home to an empty apartment, a text from Zayne telling you that he’d been called in to the hospital to assess a cardiac patient admitted from the emergency room but he’d ordered you dinner in advance that would be delivered around six. You text him asking if he’d heard anything about the girl that he could share with you before you get into the shower. Your shoulder aches, and your fingers find blood from a small wound that you’d have to wrap up on your own and ask Zayne to look at in the morning. You weren’t going to the hospital today, you just needed to lay down now.

DAY TWO

This felt unusually similar to the last day, but you shake the unease as you watch Zayne continue to sleep - or at least pretend to be sleeping.

“What time do you need to be at the hospital?”

A smile as he knows he’s been caught, and your hand gently caresses his cheek as he sighs into your pillows before telling you, “Not at all. I’m yours all day, if you’ll have me.”

There wasn’t a single place you’d rather be than with him, and the way his cheeks develop a pink tint makes you smile as you lean in to kiss his nose. You swear you’ve had this conversation before, down to the way Zayne bashfully presses his face deeper into the pillow to try and mask the normally uncharacteristic smile - but that was your smile and you weren’t going to let him hide it.

“Stop hiding your handsome little face from me right now.”

“Is that a request or a demand, miss hunter?”

“A…req-mand,” you respond with a grin, sitting up in the bed so you could look down at him. “If I may make another?”

“Yes, I’d happily cook our breakfast.”

“You’re a blessing and a doctor and a wonderful boyfriend.”

“Anything else?”

“You’re also great in bed, but you knew all of that already.”

“I still like to hear you say it.”

Your phone rings as you’re eating, and you sigh as you stand to retrieve it from the bedroom. It seemed you never got a day off, even when you were supposed to have one. Two days in a row wasn’t fair, and you have half a mind to complain to Jenna about it after she explains the situation but hold off in favor of keeping your job.

Zayne had followed you to the bedroom, and you’re disappointed at the slight frown that graces his usually stoic features, but he was just in demand as you were so you know he understood your situation. It still sucked though.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you assure, leaning against the doorframe as he presses his forehead to yours. The strong hand on your hip keeps you in place, three little words weighing down the tip of your tongue as he leans in to capture the kiss he’d been seeking. “It’d just be nice to have a day with you.”

“There’s always tomorrow,” he assures, kissing you again in something much more weighted with the adoration he held for you - a true parting kiss that you needed to be able to leave comfortably. I’ll see you later, I hope.”

“Yeah, I should hopefully be back around dinnertime so you can make sure I eat something.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it.”

It had to have just been deja vu. That made the most sense as to why you felt like you’d been to this exact area with Xavier telling you it was him wanting to make up for stealing your kill. This entire morning felt familiar, down to the way the wanderer swung at your left shoulder. Any closer and it would’ve gotten your skin instead of just slicing through your shirt and you’d be gang lectured by Xavier, Jenna, Tara, then Zayne in that order.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Lunch?”

“Lunch.”

He tells you about the little diner he’d found and wanted to try, and you nod along as you walk back towards the city. Walking with Xavier was always refreshing, even when you felt uneasy- as if you’d been in the exact situation before. But it was possible that after how long you and Xavier had been partners that every battle felt like a repeat of one before it.

When you go into the dinner you pause, looking around only to realize that you’d been here before. There was no way this was the first day they were open, and Xavier only shakes his head as you take your seat across from him in the booth.

“Maybe you’d been to whatever was here before,” he starts, tilting his head when you shake yours. “This building has been closed for the last year while they remodeled for this restaurant to open.”

“I swear we were just here yesterday.”

“We didn’t see each other yesterday, remember? I had the day off and you were with that artist.”

You had been with Rafayel, but that was two days ago. Yesterday you had been with Xavier in this restaurant. He ordered-

“I’ll have the roast beef sandwich.”

That.

“And you, miss?”

You weren’t ready, too busy staring at your menu in disbelief at being correct. Xavier was impossible to guess when it came to a menu that didn’t have hot pot, and you were able to get that? How?

“I’ll have whatever you recommend.”

You’d done that yesterday, too. This waitress would likely bring a salad like she had yesterday, and it would be a damn good salad.

“She’s going to bring a salad, and I know this because we were here yesterday.”

“Here yesterday but she didn’t recognize us?” Xavier retorts, leaning back into the booth as you cross your arms over your chest. “Did that wanderer hit you? Do I need to get you to the hospital?”

“No it didn’t, but thanks for your concern. Maybe it’s just deja vu, then.”

“Or maybe you need to buy a lottery ticket.”

It was possible that you should’ve bought a lottery ticket, as you find yourself an hour later in the same intersection trying to keep the crowd away from the horrified mother and the daughter who’d been hit by a truck. But this time you don’t go home, you call a taxi to take you to Akso Hospital where the girl had been taken for emergency care.

You just weren’t expecting to see Zayne crossing the reception area when you walked in, needing to be redirected by a receptionist to see you.

“What are you doing here?” He’s carefully inspecting your body for injuries, even carefully gazing into your eyes to look for signs of head injury. You let him look until he’s satisfied, knowing that if you didn’t he’d just continue to worry and check you out as discreetly as possible - even holding your hand a particular way so he could check your pulse for any irregularities.

“I promise you I’m fine. A girl was brought here after being hit by a truck,” you start, something that has Zayne instantly registering who you were talking about. “I wanted to see how she was doing.”

He adjusts his glasses, and you know that he wasn’t going to have an answer for you that would feel satisfactory. But there was also very little that he could actually tell you, due to patient privacy laws and the like. But even hearing that she was projected to be okay would be enough for you.

“She’s in surgery now.”

That was better than being dead on arrival, but you’re right in not feeling satisfied by the answer. He wasn’t even supposed to be here, so you can’t fault him for not texting you from the operating room about a kid you had no obvious connection to.

“Why are you here?”

“Cardiac patient admitted to the emergency room displaying signs of protocore syndrome. I needed to come in to operate with the goal of stabilizing their condition.”

“Dr. Zayne the elite cardiac surgeon.”

“Specialist, not elite, but I appreciate the compliment.”

“Yes, yes, ‘medicine is about helping people, not being popular’,” your impersonation of him earns a smile, his hand catching yours before you could back away from him. But something is tugging at your heart, your repeated close calls enough to remind you that life was very fleeting. “Zayne?”

It’s not the right time, the hospital reception area had too many eyes on you and so many listening ears courtesy of the receptionists and passing nurses that watched with interest as you talked. “You look tired, I’m sorry to have kept you up last night.”

“I’m hoping for a repeat tonight, Doctor.”

“I hope I’ll be able to leave in time to give you that.”

You did too, but for now you were content with just the kiss pressed to your forehead and a whispered request that you text him when you got home so he knew there weren’t any other truck incidents. You just attracted trouble, and you knew that worried him but there wasn’t anything you could do about it - it’s not like you were intentionally seeking it out but you trusted that he knew that.

DAY THREE

“You’re acting strange,” Xavier points out, a hand on yours to stop its anxious tapping against the table top. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

You only shake your head at first, weighing your options before you settle on, “You’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“That ship sailed a few months ago. I do watch you throw yourself into danger at every possible corner, y’know.” His teasing does exactly what it was meant to do: make you feel better about telling him what had been bothering you. Now that you’d thought about it, he had a bunch of experience with Wanderers and their abilities, maybe he knew how to help?

“This is my third Friday. I’ve woken up three days in a row, and it’s been Friday. Every. Day.”

“I thought time loops only existed in comics and movies,” he mumbles, bringing his finger to his lips as his face settles into something much more serious. Your hope that he would know something about the cause dissipates quickly, and he also deflates a bit when he sees your dejected slump back into the booth. “Everything was the same both days?”

“For the most part. Yester- I guess the last loop is a better description - I had a slightly different conversation with Zayne but that didn’t change anything about waking up this morning.”

“You have to figure out what it is you need to change to break the loop.”

“Do you think this could be the effect of a Wanderer?” you ask, leaning forward on the table once more as Xavier also leans in a bit. Asking directly would likely get you to where you wanted to be information-wise. “That one yesterday was a little weird.”

“It was weird, but not time-manipulative kind of weird. I haven’t heard of a Wanderer who could do that.” That has you slumping back into your seat, a pout on your face as he sighs. “What happens next today?”

His question makes you check your watch, seeing 1:47 looking back at you has you rushing from your seat and out the door of the restaurant. If you could prevent the girl’s accident, maybe that would break the loop? It happened at 1:49pm on the opposite corner of the restaurant you were eating at, and you see the bright floral sundress of the young girl approaching the corner as you use your evol to boost your speed just that much more so you can pull her out of harm’s way just in time.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine! Thank you Miss Hunter!”

“Be more careful crossing streets,” is what you leave the girl with before making your way back to the restaurant.

Xavier is still sitting patiently at the table, an amused smile on his face at how winded you were after the show of talent to save the girl from getting hit by a car. It’s all you can do to simply shrug when he asks, “You knew exactly when that was going to happen?”

“The last two loops we were out of here at 1:45, then you pull me out of traffic but she gets hit. Today, neither of us got hit.”

“Loop broken?”

“Let’s hope so.” To celebrate, you order a dessert for you and Xavier, trying to relax but unable to shake the feeling that something still didn’t feel right. It could just be that the loop was truly broken, and now your universe had shifted just that much to create a strange feeling, but you supposed you’d find out when you woke up the next day.

“Where do you go next?”

“I’m not sure. The first time in went home, last time I went to the hospital.”

“I think we’ll need to go to the hospital again,” Xavier comments, pointing his fork at your shoulder where red was blooming under your white blouse. “From this morning?”

“Probably made it worse when I grabbed the girl. I can get myself there, though.”

“Let me at least make sure you get there in one piece. Then you can do whatever and I’ll go home and sleep.”

You reluctantly agree, and find yourself sitting next to your partner on the train as it speeds towards the hospital. Outside the doors you perform your little handshake with Xavier before he leaves you with a request to check in and update him on your status throughout the evening, something you agree to with a smile before thanking him for listening to you and giving you his own advice.

Regardless of the day or time, there is always at least one receptionist working who knows exactly who you are and has sent a message to Zayne indicating your arrival and the state in which you walked through the door. You know this time there is a new receptionist available to greet you, ready to have you redirected to the urgent care area until Theresa - a long time receptionist very aware of your relationship with Zayne - tells her not to bother since your primary care physician would be seeing you shortly.

Three minutes and twenty two seconds. That was likely a new record, something you tease him about as Theresa lets him know that an appointment had been booked for him. She always looked out for him in her own little ways, safeguarding the time he’d get to attend to your health without interruption was just one of those things she did for him.

He’s always so composed as he leads you to the elevator, a composure you do your best to mimic for his sake despite knowing that wasn’t necessary. The security of the elevator is when that composure crumbles a bit, and he’s turning to face you properly as he asks, “How deep is it?”

“Not sure.” You’d shrug if you could, but all you’ve got is leaning against the wall of the small elevator. “I didn’t know I was hurt until half an hour ago.”

“What made it open up more?”

“I rushed to pull a girl out of traffic before a large truck could hit her.”

“Always the hero,” he comments with a smile, hand on your back to guide you out of the elevator when the doors open. “My daring Hunter.”

A kiss grazes the top of your head as he leads you to the exam room that he’d use to stitch you up. That’s the only purpose this white room would serve, you know the rest of your appointment time followed by whatever free moments he potentially had would be spent in his office to ensure true privacy as you enjoyed each other's company.

His fingers are nimble as they traverse the familiar road that was undoing the straps of your protective gear then continue into the buttons of your blouse. His eyes always drift to appreciate your skin as he gets the honor of exposing it, a crack in the perfectly crafted mask of professionalism that Zayne always wore in the hospital - a crack only you could’ve created and only you get the pleasure of looking into to see Zayne without the title of Doctor in front of it. His fingertips drag along your skin as he helps you remove your blouse without further agitating your wound, allowing himself to touch you ever so slightly in the way a lover should rather than a doctor, and you can only reach up to cup his cheek once your healthy arm is free to move.

“I worry about you when you’re out of my line of sight.” A tilt of his head to kiss your palm, his hand coming to hold yours to his lips while also giving a small squeeze. “I know that you’re capable, and trust that you aren’t throwing yourself around recklessly, but I still worry. Seeing you hurt like this, it’s a smaller wound but I never want to see your blood.”

“I know,” is all you can say, continuing to hold his eye contact despite how small that focused gaze made you feel sometimes. “I try my best.”

“That’s all I can ask for. Let’s get you patched up.”

You were as good of a patient as you could be, given the situation you’d found yourself in. Stitches were never an easy procedure to sit through, and the location of your injury meant that you got to look at Zayne as he did it. He was so focused, eyes locked onto his task with minimal room for distraction. That hand that wandered previously to graze at your chest as he cleaned the wound was perfectly still as it helps to hold you still while his other hand handled the sutures. His eyes didn’t even move to look up at you, not until he was done and bandaging your fresh stitches.

“Please go home and rest. Don’t lay on it, no alcohol, but eat before you take any medications.”

“Yes, Dr. Zayne.”

“I’m serious. If they call tomorrow you need to say no.”

“I know, and I will,” you assure, hand on his chest as he sighs.

You’re not sensitive enough to think he’d be mad at you, you both knew the risks involved with your career and he wasn’t foolish enough to believe that you’d always be out of harm’s way. You were damn good at your job but you weren’t resistant to wanderer attacks nor were you able to truly predict their moves before they were made.

“I know. You’re quite the capable patient.” His praise as he helps you get your shirt buttoned back up makes you smile. “We’ll both take a real day off tomorrow.”

You weren’t confident that he wouldn’t get called in again tomorrow, but it sounds so nice to hear him say it anyway. He didn’t promise, which is how you know he’s not confident either, but that was a concern for tomorrow and not this moment where Zayne is helping you down from the table. The air still feels heavy, even as he meads you out of the room and turns to leave after a kiss.

“Zayne, I-” You stop short when he turns to look at you, biting your lip as you try to look away from his dissecting gaze. “I’m sorry for worrying you. Thank you for always taking care of me.”

He smiles, closing the distance between you two and taking your hand in his own. “It’s my job as your primary care provider. Will you be heading home?”

“You don’t have time for dinner?”

“Not anymore. The emergency room has seen quite a few patients get fully admitted, it’ll be a busy night tonight.”

“Oh, then I can bring you something so you’ve got some protein when you’ve got a few minutes to breathe. I’ll just leave it in the little fridge you keep in your office.”

“You’re too kind to me. I love-“ he stops to clear his throat, and you’re ready to say it back until he finishes with, “Excuse me. I appreciate how much you want to take care of me.”

“It’s my job as my primary care provider’s care provider.” You’re grinning at him despite the dull ache in your shoulder, and he leans in to sneak a chaste kiss before you start to back away. “Will you come by when you’re off shift? Give me something nice to wake up to?”

“If I get out of here in time. If I don't, will you come see me here?”

DAY FOUR

You wake up surprised to feel that Zayne had made it to your home last night with how busy the ward was. But it was still nice to have his warmth encase you and keep you hidden away from the evils of the world for as long as you could stay in this bed with him - and even more relieving that he was resting after such a busy afternoon and evening.

It was still a day off for you both, at least it was supposed to be, so staying home all day was definitely required. You had a balcony with decent chairs, so you’d get the sunlight that you know the doctor will suggest and that would suffice for one day - it had to after the last three Fridays you’d been forced to experience.

You lift your phone to send a text to Xavier, excited that the loop had been broken, only to pause when you see the time and date over the picture of you and Zayne that was your background.

06:52

Friday

You want to throw it, you really do. Anything to make it feel like it was any different day. But you can’t, since phones were very expensive to replace - as if that would matter if you lived the same day anyway.

“Fuck me,” you groan, sinking back under the covers and burrowing yourself into Zayne’s waiting arms.

“I’d be glad to, but what’s the occasion?”

“You’ll think I’m crazy. Hell, I think I’m crazy.”

A thoughtful hum leaves the doctor, followed by a kiss to the top of your head as he pulls you in closer. “For the record, I’ve thought you were crazy since we were children. Second, I like that you’re a bit…eccentric at times.”

“I’m stuck in a time loop.”

“Repeat that?”

“I’m stuck in a time loop. This is Friday round four, Zayne.”

You don’t even want to look up at him, can’t bring yourself to see the face he was making before he asked if you’d hit your head while out on assignment yesterday. Zayne was a man of logic and science, a time loop did not follow any real logic. It sounded crazy saying it to Xavier before, but saying that to Zayne makes you feel batshit nuts.

“I know, it’s ‘wanderer ate my baby’ nuts, but I know what I’m experiencing.”

“Then you’ll stay home today. I have today off as well, so we’ll stay in and keep you out of trouble.”

“You believe me?”

“I have no reason not to.” That had you looking up at him in surprise, confusion clearly etched on your features when he shrugs as he sits up. “There’s a lot you would mess around with me about, but I know your tones well enough to know that this isn’t a joke. So we’ll stay home and hope that breaks this vicious cycle you’ve managed to find yourself in.”

“But it’s-“

“It’s absolutely ‘wanderer ate my baby’ crazy, and I don’t understand the logic, but still if this is happening we’ll figure it out.”

“And if we don’t figure it out today, and tomorrow I wake up and it’s still today and you don’t remember?”

There’s only a moment of hesitation, a slight furrow in his brow as he considered the fact that if this didn’t work then he’d forget about all of this. But he relaxes, a smile on his face as he assures, “Then you’ll tell me again. I believe you today, don’t I?”

“You get called in at around one.”

“That’s a problem for the afternoon. It’s only seven.”

“Jenna calls at like eight fifteen.”

“Then we have time. Just lay back and let me take care of you.”

These were doctor’s orders that you would never ignore, and you watch as he moves to the end of the bed to have the room you needed to shimmy back into a lying position with him between your legs. The hem of his sweater that you wore is bunched up near your belly button, allowing him full access to see what had become favorite treat. Those eyes are almost dissecting you as he takes you in, long fingers carefully parting your folds so he could see his handiwork from the night before.

“You’re already so wet,” he starts, bringing his thumb into his mouth to wet it. That thumb is then gently rubbing circles against your clit as he watches your body react to the pleasure. “But more is always better.”

It takes everything for you to keep still, keep looking at him as he watches you. They said that the eyes were the windows to the soul, and Zayne believed that which was why he’d always watch you so intently. He thrived on eye contact, needing it as his way of assessing whether or not he was succeeding in his goal of pleasuring you.

“Please don’t tease,” you whine, reaching down between your legs to catch his free hand. “I’ve been through too much, Zayne.”

He only gives your hand a squeeze, kissing the inside of your thigh then leaning in to lick at your tender clit. His fingers graze the inside of your labia, teasing the edges of your already fluttering hole before two long digits easily slide in. A third joins quickly after, Zayne clearly wanting to stretch you out some more than he had the night before. His eyes have left yours, now more enamored by his fingers disappearing inside of you and how sweet your breaths sound as your hips rock up to meet his pace.

“Think you can take one more?”

You’re nodding without hesitation, although your brain doesn’t register just what you’re agreeing to until you feel his hand shift to allow his pinky to join the other three fingers that were stretching you out. The initial discomfort quickly dissolves into pleasure, and you’re struggling to keep your legs open as you feel your stomach tighten with your impending orgasm. His head disappears between your legs again, lips suctioning to your clit in a way that sends you toppling over the edge with a cry of his name. He just holds your thighs that now hold his head in place, letting you ride out your orgasm against his tongue that was eagerly lapping at your essence. There’s a pleasured groan that leaves him at your taste, the vibrations against your clit causing your legs to tighten around his head until he’s gently prying your thighs apart so he can sit up to look at you.

“I think you’re ready, are you ready for my cock?”

You nod, but you know he wants to hear you so you gather yourself just enough to give him that verbal confirmation. He’s pleased, hands caressing your thighs before he moves up along your body while pushing his sweater up as he goes, leaving the occasional kiss to your skin as he exposes it.

“My beautiful girl,” he whispers, tossing the sweater to the side once it’s over your head and smiling when you grin up at him. “I’m incredibly lucky that you chose me.”

“Every day I’ll make the same choice.”

The air between you grows heavy; a sentiment that you can’t voice lingering on your tongue, just waiting to be captured and held by him. The look in his eyes is one you’re familiar with but unable to decode, the only thing you’re certain of is that it’s an affectionate gaze and nothing less, a gaze that betrays his evol and sets your heart ablaze and makes your fingers tingle with the intensity held in those green irises.

The strong vibration of your phone against your nightstand has you sighing, pushing your head back into the pillows as Zayne whispers for you to ignore it. You weigh you could, but you know what time it is and that it means Jenna is calling to let you know that you will need to meet Xavier to complete a mission, and failure to answer the call would mean that someone would be sent to you to make sure you were okay and instead would walk in on Zayne fucking you on some surface in your apartment. Your attempt to reach for it is stopped by Zayne as he starts to push his length into your waiting cunt.

“It’s Jenna,” you inform, struggling to keep your eyes open when he starts to push his cock past your slick folds. “I can’t ignore it.”

“Give it here.”

The exchange is brief, but Zayne catches your hand before you could pull away to kiss your palm as he settles into the base of his length. You feel so full, so content when he’s inside you like this regardless of how often you had sex with him. He completed you, you always knew that he did and that no other partner would compliment you as Zayne did. He truly was perfect, despite all of his perceived flaws. You’re so caught up in the feeling that you almost forgot that he was supposed to be answering your phone, but he didn’t.

“Yes good morning,” Zayne greets, lowering his fingers to play with your sensitive clit to keep you occupied while he spoke to your captain. “Yes, she’s still in bed under my care. Running a high fever of over a hundred degrees with severe nausea, I wouldn’t recommend her leaving home today.”

His finger moves faster, the pattern becoming recognizable the more you feel it. Only now he’s moving, something that has you biting your knuckle to keep from moaning at the sensation of his cock stretching you open more.

Z-A-Y-N-E-Z-A-Y-N-E-Z-A-Y-N-E

His name, over and over again against your clit until your body is tightening around him while he nods along to whatever it was Jenna was saying to him. But he’s proud of himself, watching the fingers of your left hand curl into the pillow under your head as your nails dig into the taut skin of his thigh. He's proud that he’d made you cum now for the second time when he was just getting started.

“I will pass along those sentiments and let her know to reach out once she’s feeling better ... Yes, and to you as well.”

He tosses your phone to the side, promising to buy you a new one when he hears it bounce off of your bed and hit the floor with a harsh smack that lands in time with the first full meeting of his hips against yours. Not that you really cared; the phone was replaceable, these moments with Zayne were not.

“How do you recommend treating this high fever, Dr. Zayne?”

“Careful attention from your primary care provider. There is also a special medicine I can provide, but it’s internal.” You only quirk a brow at him, knowing that dirty talk wasn’t his strongest skill when it came to sex but proud of him for trying. “That didn’t sound sexy, did it?”

“Not exactly,” you respond, a smile on your face as you rub his thigh. “But I could listen to you read a medical textbook and still get off, so don’t worry.”

“You’re too kind,” he murmurs, taking one of your thighs into his firm grip to bring it up and around his hip. “Be a good patient for me.”

You follow the doctor’s orders for once, very pleased with the praise he gives you as he fucked the stress of the time loop out of your system. It was still a bit awkward, given that he wasn’t the most experienced or really comfortable being vocal in bed, but that was Zayne and you wouldn’t have him any other way.

“Feeling any better?” He asks when he returns from the bathroom, washcloth in hand so he could help you clean up.

“A bit. I feel better that you know and are just as bamboozled as I am, but it’s still a weird situation.”

“You’ll figure it out. You always do.” His assurance makes you feel a bit better, the gentle nudge to your cheek with his knuckle getting a smile out of you as he carefully cleans up the mess he’d made of you. You were so in love with this man it was unreal, but it didn’t feel like the right time to tell him that.

“I’ll go make breakfast now, you’ve got to be starving.”

“Let me,” you request, something that has him looking at you in surprise. He always made breakfast since you preferred the way he cooked your eggs compared to your own, but you were desperate to force any change to the routine in hopes it would break the cycle. “Trying to break the loop.”

“Right. I’m going to take a quick shower, I should be out by the time you’re done cooking.”

You nod as you pick your robe up from the bedroom floor, giving him a wave as you leave your bedroom.

The breakfast you cook is the same as the previous ones he’d made, only instead of coffee you opt to pour some orange juice for the both of you. A small change that could have a huge impact, like a butterfly effect in time travel.

After breakfast Zayne pulls you to lounge on the couch with him, putting on the drama you’d been watching together in hopes that it would distract you from your predicament. You’re comfortable between his legs with your head on his chest, his fingers gently massaging and scratching at your scalp making you drowsy halfway through the episode.

“Relax and get some rest, we can always restart it when you wake up.”

DAY FIVE

This time when you wake up you’re mad.

Why would the loop reset when you’d only laid down for a nap?

What did the universe want from you? If it wasnt avoiding reckless combat, or saving the girl, or letting the girl be injured - what the actual fuck did it want from you?

It’s with a sigh that you pull yourself from Zayne enough that you can sit up, leaning back against your headboard while trying not to look at your phone. The date and time would only make you cry, you’re sure of that fact, so you only tilt your head back to stare up at the ceiling.

You might as well get your morning started.

“I know you’re faking,” you tease, gently poking Zayne’s cheek when he smiles. “Doctor faker.”

“Good morning to you too.” His greeting comes with a hand on your side, pulling you into him but laying across him slightly due to your previous positioning. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good. I’m still kinda tired but I don’t want to go back to bed. You?”

“I also slept well. Going to sleep with you helps me sleep better.”

“Is it me or the sex?” There’s a dusting of pink across his cheeks, something that has you grinning as you pull back to sit up again. “I know I wear you out both in and out of bed.”

“You do, but you’re the sweetest cause of exhaustion,” he murmurs, sitting up and stealing a kiss from you. His hand slips under your shirt, warm against your skin as he tries to nudge you into his lap. But his attempt at getting more than just a kiss from you is thwarted when you pull away and roll off of your bed - landing solidly on your feet while flashing a thumbs up at him. “You’re cruel, honey.”

“Maybe you can dip into your honey pot later.” You suggest with a smile, though you know that he likely wouldn’t get the opportunity since Jenna would be calling. But he didn’t need to know all that since clearly it didn’t make a difference in the time loop if he did or didn’t know. As frustrated as you were with this situation, you would simply let it be and enjoy the little variations of this morning with him. “Breakfast time, Doctor Zayne.”

The day has the same elements every other Friday has had.

Breakfast.

Call from Jenna.

Hunting a wanderer with Xavier.

Save the girl.

Hospital for stitches.

You’d probably be able to do the whole day with your eyes closed, including shooting at the high-speed wanderer. You felt like a hamster on a wheel, destined to do this forever while chasing a reward that didn’t exist. How this ended, you fear you’d never know, and that is disheartening at best but heartbreaking at worst. You were looking forward to a lifetime with Zayne, but instead you were likely to live the same Friday forever. Maybe this was your forever?

“You’re thinking hard, are you alright?” Zayne asks as he fixes your shirt, eyes scrutinizing your expression in a way that tells you that you won’t get away with lying to him but you were going to try anyway.

Telling him about the loop doesn’t help you at all, so why waste the breath? All you can muster is an “just tired” that he certainly doesn’t buy, and that has him inviting you to sit in his office with him for as long as he can avoid his duties without being negligent.

You choose to stand by the window, looking out at the hospital courtyard to see a couple children attempting to fly kites despite there being no wind. If you had an evol that could create the breeze they needed, you’d do it in an instant to provide them that joy of flying kites together.

“Alright, what’s bothering you? Was it the-”

“Wanderer was fine, and the girl is okay so that’s not on my mind.” You assure, finally looking at him as you turn to lean against the windowsill. “It’s just been a long day and my shoulder hurts. I’ll be okay.”

There’s a lot of unspoken emotion hanging in the air around you, creating a tension that wasn’t unbearable but only because this was standard for these moments with him. After the day you’d had with the abrupt exit in the middle of breakfast to meet with Xavier, his own call into the hospital to perform an emergency surgery, your injury made worse by pulling that girl out of traffic - it was quite a bit stacked onto itself and that was without considering your additional stress that was the time loop. He’s boxing you in against the windowsill, hands on your hips with thumbs gently massaging into your skin beneath your shirt, it seemed like there was always something that he looked like he wanted to say, and you had your own sentiments that you wanted to share but never felt like it was the right time. Another mission, another patient - just too many distractions that ruined the moment.

The realization hits you like that truck almost had earlier in the day - and you feel stupid at the fact that it took five rounds to get to this point.

There was only one thing you hadn’t done, the one thing you’d been terrified to do, and you were going to be brave and just say it. He already knew, you were sure of it, but you couldn’t let it go unspoken any longer. Two near death experiences in a day clearly meant that you needed to just get it off your chest before you couldn’t and you were going to do it now. Potential disruption from another doctor or nurse be damned - you had to do this before you lost the resolve. You’d been stuck in this stupid time loop for far too long, you had to see if this would break it.

“Zayne,” you start, hands carefully holding onto the lapels of his lab coat to keep him close to you - as if he’d be going anywhere with how wedged between your legs he’d made himself. “I love you, and I’m sorry that it took me so long to just get the words out.”

“You know that you can’t hide anything from me, right?”

“You’ve known this whole time?”

“You mumble it when I leave in the morning and you’re still sleeping. I’ve always said it back.”

“Doesn’t count if I’m sleeping.”

“You’re right,” he states, his nose brushing against yours as he leans in. He’s looking at you through his lashes, and you’re grateful that he’d pocketed his glasses so you had a clear view of the deep green irises. “I love you, and I’m very grateful to have you love me in return.”

You’re in his place of work, the door to his office only providing a slight protection of your privacy for this intimate moment with him, but still he kisses you. Large hands moving from your hips to carefully cradle your face and keep you close to him as his lips coax yours into opening for him. He has work to do, patients to attend to and nurses to provide medicinal instructions to, but he’s standing here kissing you against the window without reservation for your location. Your hands move up his shoulders to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you relish in the taste of bitter coffee and mint on his tongue.

His pager beeping forces you to separate, the sound bringing a disappointed sigh from your boyfriend as his hand has to leave your warm cheek to check the notification. “Surgery patient just woke up.”

“I suppose you need to go handle that,” you murmur, smiling when his lips reconnect to yours in a much more chaste affair. “I’ll allow it.”

“You’ll be rewarded for your sacrifice. I should be able to leave in about an hour, if you’re willing to wait.”

“You wanna take me home?”

“Every night for the rest of our lives together,” he whispers, stealing another kiss from you. “Get comfortable here. I’ve got to finish up some rounds and check on my patient, but we should be heading home soon.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” And you are, there was plenty to do with him - mostly catch up on lost sleep and exchange some more words of love and affection to make up for the weeks of intended exchanges left unspoken. “I love you.”

A smile, small and shy with cheeks red and radiating a warmth is what you get from Zayne - uncharacteristic given the location and his need for a collected personality at work. He needed to be as cool as his evol, but with a kindness that kept patients calm and comfortable in his presence. But that was your smile, your bashful boyfriend who exposed his emotions to you as if he were a painting in a museum, a private collection with only your name on the invite list.

“I love you, too. Stay out of trouble and please don’t shift items slightly to the left while I’m gone.”

You hadn’t planned on it, having seen the book you’d left last time you visited sitting on his desk and ready to sit and read that, but now you’re inspired to shift a few things to the right this time. Maybe move his pen cup and other things that were more convenient being on the side of his dominant hand. He hadn’t said anything about moving things to the right, bringing a mischievous grin to your face that makes him shake his head as he backs away from you with just a warning to behave.

DAY SIX

Another morning comes, sunlight sneaking in through a crack in the curtains that is perfectly positioned to hit your eyelids. Just bright enough to be annoying, so you turn to hide your face into the warm chest at your back while pulling the duvet over your head for good measure.

You’re terrified to open your eyes, not wanting to have to relive yet another Friday since you weren’t sure what would break the loop if telling Zayne that you loved him didn’t do the trick. You were tired of learning a lesson, you’d been through enough.

“You’re too tense for just waking up.”

…that was different.

Now that you were thinking about it, this wasn’t your bed. Your bedroom smelled sweeter, vanilla and spice courtesy of the incense Zayne had bought you for your last birthday. This was bergamot, mint, and sandalwood, an earthy scent that was unique to Zayne and his bedroom - and when you open your eyes you come face to face with the picture of you both that he kept on your nightstand and the Wasabi Octopus that sat beside it. The picture had you both with arms full of plushies because you’d gotten much too lucky one afternoon, the octopus on the nightstand balanced perfectly atop Zayne’s head but he didn’t look perturbed in the slightest. He was excited to have all those plushies, but more excited at how happy you were - he was looking at you rather than the camera.

This wasn’t Friday morning, there was no sun to assault your eyes but there were gentle fingers tapping Mary had a Little Lamb along your side - light enough that it wouldn’t have woken you but noticeable enough for you to make out the pattern. The only song the doctor’s fingers could perform, a pattern your skin could never forget and a song you’d never tire of. This wasn’t your bedroom, this wasn’t your bed - this whole morning was different.

Finally, a change in the loop.

Your head almost slams into his in your haste to sit up, Zayne barely dodging by laying back on the bed as you move.He can only watch as you scramble to grab your phone from the nightstand, only to groan when you see that it was dead courtesy of you forgetting to plug it in, then turn to lean over him to grab his. Your elbow knocks into his ribs a bit in your scramble, pulling a pained grunt from your lover that is met with your apology as you frantically tap on his phone screen to wake it up and check the time.

ignoring the fact that you were naked since every other Friday you’d woken up in Zayne’s very comfortable green sweater that he’d worn when he met you for dinner on Thursday night.

07:34

Saturday

“It’s Saturday?”

“That is the day that comes after Friday, is it not?”

“Zayne, it’s Saturday.” You could honestly cry, having never been happier to see Saturday than after experiencing five Fridays in a row that were tragically nearly identical to the other. You can only stare at the date and time that covered the landscape of his lock screen, the image perfectly placed to avoid blocking your face at the last festival you’d gone to. “It’s Saturday, and we love each other, and-and-“

You’re overwhelmed with emotion as you pull him in for a kiss, his very confused hands settling on your back and carefully rubbing your skin as he kisses you back. It doesn’t take long for you to be straddling him, continuing to make out with your now accepting boyfriend as his hands move to get your body ready for the inevitable conclusion to your early morning.

“I’ve never seen you so excited for Saturday,” he mumbles when you give him time to breathe, his hand leaving your breast to wipe at the tears that had fallen down your cheeks. “Are you alright?”

“Yesterday just sucked, aside from the love confessions.”

His promise to wash it away is mostly successful, his touch tender but delivering exactly what you had needed to lose yourself in him and his love for you, only for him to do it again in the shower before carefully scrubbing at your sensitive body and freshly stitched shoulder wound to properly clean you up. You then get to sit on his countertop, watching as he cooks a simple breakfast that would tide you over until your lunch reservation.

“What made your Friday so awful, if I may ask?”

“It was…” You trail off as you consider your choice of words, reaching out and cupping his cheek as he smiles at you. Explaining the loop of Fridays didn’t seem worth it when you’d come out of it on top, especially since you know Zayne wouldn’t want you to spare a detail So he could understand it better. “Just extremely tedious.”

“We’ll just have to make sure your Saturday is anything but.”

“I love you, Zayne.”

“And I love you. Now let's have breakfast and then we can visit the arcade before lunch.”

#zayne x mc #zayne x reader #zayne x you #love and deepspace zayne x reader #lads fanfic #lads fic #lads smut #lads x reader #lads x mc #zayne li smut #zayne li fic #zayne li x reader #zayne li x mc #zayne lads x reader

101 notes · View notes

loveanddeepdick · 2 months ago

Note

hear me, lads men when mc puts on pheromones perfume 🫣

xavier would keep his cool, or at least, he would try to. the moment he smelled the perfume, he’d stay in a certain radius of you, watching as you moved around your apartment. after you were done with whatever task you’ve taken up, he’d run his hands up and down your waist as he buried his face in your neck from behind.

“is this new perfume? don’t tease me”

rafayel, unlike xavier, would be on you in an instant. he’d push you onto the nearest surface and push his nose into your neck and collarbone, inhaling the smell as he nearly got drunk on it. his hands never leave you either, exploring underneath your shirt as he continued smelling you.

“wear this every day, please.. ‘smells like heaven”

zayne wouldn’t notice right away. after all, he’s a busy man with lots of things in his mind. he’d be lounging around with you on your couch, reading articles on his phone when you slightly shift to get up and the scent hits him like the truck. he grabs your wrist, pulling you down onto his lap as he moves your hair slightly, leaning in to smell you.

“i was right, your scent is different today. it’s intoxicating, dear”

sylus already knows you bought the perfume, after all, he knows everything about you. he smells it right when you walk into his room. he was buttoning up his tux when you walk in with your tight, black dress, ready to leave with him when he caught your scent. he subtly smiled, keeping his thoughts to himself, teasing you with the false guise of him not acknowledging the new scent. it only took you two hours until you were pouting, giving him a silly silent treatment until he chuckled, spilling his secret.

“sweetie, i’ve known the entire night that you were wearing that perfume. don’t think it didn’t drive me crazy, too”

#lads rafayel #lads x reader #lads zayne #lads sylus #lads xavier #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #sylus x reader #sylus qin x reader #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #zayne li x reader #xavier x reader #rina thinking 📝

1K notes · View notes

beneathashadytree · 5 months ago

Text

ENAMORED - ZAYNE LI X READER

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

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

Word count : 1.6K words

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

Commissions are open here!

Tip jar!

Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

407 notes · View notes

b-ibilly · 26 days ago

Text

Are we seeing this zayne girlies?!

AND THE BUSINESS PROPOSAL SCENE ?!

6K notes · View notes

shouyuus · 3 months ago

Text

doctor, doctor

zayne; 3,377; fluff and smut, no "y/n", knowing use of sex drugs, handjob, oral (f!receiving), face riding, shockingly soft intermission, missionary, internal creampies, banter (it's zayne duh), needy!zayne

summary: zayne volunteers as a guinea pig to test out an antidote to a new love drug. spoiler alert: the antidote sucks.

a/n: phew! i haven't written this much porn in... /checks watch/ well ever really. but im not that mad about it! it's a genre i've always felt a bit weak in so im glad to get some practice :) pls enjoy!

aphrodite made me!! masterlist

─── 黎深 YOU KNOW SOMETHING’S WRONG the second he gets home. There’s a bright flush to his cheeks, a glassy look to his eyes, and he reaches out to brace himself against the counter almost as soon as he’s through the door, sucking in a deep breath.

“Z-Zayne? What’s wrong?” you rush up to him, reaching out to press a palm to his cheek, lashes fluttering as you pull it away, startled. “Oh my god, you’re burning up!”

“No — it’s fine. I’m fine.” He tries to push you away, but can’t help the soft groan that leaves his lips as he nuzzles into your touch. You frown, letting him press into the palm of your hand before he turns to drop a kiss to your skin, looking down at you with hooded eyes. “It’s… not what you think.”

“Not what I…” you blink up at him, worry slowly being eclipsed by a trembling uncertainty.

Something’s not right, you think, but judging by the way he’s still able to hold himself steady, he’s not that sick. So then —

“Ah… fuck —” he curses, leaning forward to bury his nose into your shoulder, tugging you to him in a sudden embrace that has you squeaking, startled by the strength of his hold. And you’re not imagining it; up this close, you can feel his thready heartbeat reverberating through his chest to yours, and his arms around you — is he… trembling?

“Zayne?”

It’s so rare that he curses so easily, so openly. Usually, this kind of language is reserved for the bedroom but —

You go still in his arms, heat washing up the back of your neck into your cheeks as you feel the unmistakable hardness against your hip. Your mind grinds to a startling halt as you try to reconcile these two pieces of strange, incompatible information.

He’s sick… but he’s hard?

“Sorry — I just —” he tries to pull away, shaking his head as if to clear it but his eyes are still glazed when he stumbles back and lets himself sag against the closed front door. You let your eyes take stock of him — his ruddy cheeks and fluttering lashes, the shiver in his limbs, the clench in his jaw as he looks anywhere but at you.

“Zayne. What’ going on?”

He almost hisses at the sharp edge to your tone.

“There’s a new drug out on the market,” he says, his voice thin even as he cards a hand through his hair and tries to take a steadying breath. “It’s… being sold underground, and it’s a potent —” he swallows, tugging at his collar, and it’s only then that you notice the thin sheen of sweat glistening over his skin, “— a potent love drug.”

Your eyebrows skyrocket as you blink up at him.

“A… love drug?”

Zayne sighs, frowning slightly as he jerks at his tie, pulling the knot loose to let it hang around his neck as he thumbs at the top button of his shirt. His fingers, usually so quick and nimble, seem strangely uncoordinated. And after a second, you reach out to gently swat his hand away, popping the top button for him, blushing as he hisses out a breath and lets his head thump back against the door.

“Yes,” he answers, his voice clipped as he tries to look anywhere but at your face. “Our R&D department has been developing a cure and —”

“And?” you ask, letting your finger trace down the thin band of his exposed chest to catch on the next button of his shirt.

“And…” he swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he purses his lips, “they needed willing participants to —”

Understanding floods through you like a wash of cold water. You let out a disbelieving laugh.

“You volunteered to test the antidote,” you say, staring up at his flushed face, his sweat-slick skin, the unfocused fracture to his eyes, the way his pupils are blown so wide they look almost entirely black.

You lick your lips, feeling another wave of heat crest through you as tingles shoot down your spine at the thought.

“Yes,” he answers again, sounding aggrieved and relieved both that you’ve finally understood.

“But…” you let your words trail off, letting your eyes rake down his trembling body and back up again.

Zayne sighs, shaking his head, “Well, it’s a work in progress.”

“Mm,” you hum, biting back a laugh that you know wouldn’t be entirely appropriate, given the desperate look on his face. Still, that forbidden knot had started to twist in your gut as you assess the situation.

It’s not every day that chance delivers your boyfriend so pliant and willing to your literal shared front door. And you’ve never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“So?” you say, taking half a step back and folding your arms, reveling in the way he tips forward immediately to chase your warmth. “How do we —” you wave a hand towards him, feeling a strange, impossible fit of giggles threatening to spill from you at the sheer absurdity of the situation.

Zayne slates you a rueful look before leaning back to pinch at his nose bridge.

“T-the researchers say that the effects —” he pauses to take another deep breath. You can’t help noticing the increasingly obvious bulge in his work slacks and you feel your own thighs tense as the knot in your stomach twists just a tad tighter. “The effects should wear off on their own in a few hours but…”

“But?” you prompt, lacing your hands behind your back as you teeter on the balls of your feet, feeling an ever-familiar tingle race from the nape of your neck to the tips of your toes.

“But… there’s nothing much to do except to —” Zayne’s fingers twitch as he forces himself to open his eyes and stare at a nondescript point over your shoulder, “to ride it out, as they say.”

At this, you break — you fall into a fit of giggles that has Zayne sighing again as he pushes himself off the door and making his unsteady way to the bedroom.

“W-wait! Where’re you going?” you ask, tugging at his arm.

He twists to stare at you, “I — to bed. Or I can sleep on the couch tonight if it’ll make you more —”

You roll your eyes and yank him down for a kiss. He can’t even pretend to protest as he moans and melts into the heat of your mouth. You thread your fingers through his hair and feel his palms gripping at your waist, tight, and then tighter.

“Y’know… for a smart guy… you’re really kind of clueless sometimes.”

“Y-yeah?” Zayne asks, his breath hot against your lips. You nod, letting him tug you both back towards the bedroom, him nearly stumbling in his haste, you biting back another fit of giggles as he sits down hard on the edge of the bed and slots you between his legs, running his hands up and down the backs of your legs, fingers dancing towards the lace trimming of your panties.

“Did you really think that I wasn’t going to help you?” you ask, your voice low.

He lets out another thick groan as you cup his cheeks and tilt his head back to look at you.

“I — I don’t — I thought that maybe —” he stutters, but you shake your head.

“C’mon doc,” you say, grinning as his eyes narrow. You give his chest a light push and watch, satisfied, as he allows himself topple back onto the mattress. “Tell me where it hurts.”

He sucks in a breath between his teeth, staring at you with a look of such unadulterated love that you find yourself almost getting shy. Almost. You crawl onto the bed, nudging apart his legs, walking your fingers up this thighs as he jerks, head falling back into the pillows.

“Please…” the plea leaves his lips parted, and you feel the heat pulse between your own legs, feel your mouth water as you look down at the pliant, panting form of Zayne’s body, spread out on the bed, his chest rising and falling at quick intervals as he watches you from beneath hooded eyes.

Briefly, you consider teasing him, but disregard the thought after realizing that he’d probably driven home feeling much like this. And you reach up to tug loose the belt, making quick work of his trousers, pulling down his boxers to reveal his cock — thick and leaking so much precum that your hands come away sticky.

“A-ah — fuck.” Again, he swears, as you tentatively wrap your fingers around his girth, and it’s not the first time you’ve done this, nor will it be the last, but it never fails to surprise you (just a little) how thick he is in your hands — how your fingers don’t reach all the way around.

You give him a few solid pumps, feeling the angry veins pulse beneath your palms as you try to work up a tempo, his hips jumping as he lets out a string of deep, throaty moans that have you clenching around nothing.

“Wait — wait —” he reaches for you, his thighs jumping slightly as your rhythm slows, and he hisses out a long breath, his brows furrowed as you tease your thumb around the underside of his cock hood, allowing yourself a tiny, devious grin as he whimpers high in the back of his throat.

“Yes, doc? Did you have any… complaints?” you drag your tongue across your lips before leaning down and letting your hot breath fan over his purpling head, feeling the heat between your own legs spread through you as thick beads of precum ooze from his slit.

“Come — come here —” he motions up the bed and you cock your head, glancing back down at what you’re certain is quite the painful erection.

“You don’t want…” you tighten your hold around his shaft as he catches his lips in his teeth and groans.

“I — I do. But I want —” he swallows, his eyes squeezing shut for a brief second, “I want to taste you.”

Desire curls solid at the base of your spine as you feel yourself throbbing at the thought. Zayne’s never been anything but a devout lover, and you’d often reflected that it really does pay to have a boyfriend who has a truly occupational knowledge of human anatomy.

“Yeah?” you ask, your own voice going breathy as you inch up the mattress, his hands settling so easily on the plush of your thighs, his eyes flitting up and down your body almost as if he doesn’t quite know where to look. You lift up your skirt and tug off your panties, with the full intention of lowering yourself slowly, but with a wretched moan, Zayne pulls you down over his face hard enough for you to gasp, your weight tipping forward so hard that you have to brace your hands on the backboard to stop yourself from toppling right over.

You feel his tongue lick a long strip along the seam of your cunt, the sting of his fingers digging into your thighs as he holds you over his mouth, groaning into the sopping heat of you, his tongue already pushing into you as he gives your clit a hard suck that has your mind fizzing out into tv static.

“Z-Zayne — oh fuck —!”

He strains against you, pressing his face so far into you you’re almost afraid he’s going to suffocate, but he only holds you tighter when you try to pull away, his mouth chasing your puffy lips. You grind yourself against his face, feeling his nose nudge at your clit as he sinks his tongue ever deeper into you, fucking it into you with a perverse need.

And it doesn't take long like this, not when he's so intimately aware of all your softest parts, all your most sensitive places.

“I — ah — ah — I’m s-so —” you stutter, as you feel the familiar tightening in your belly, the coil twisting as thin tendrils of heat start to skitter up through your limbs and you feel your orgasm building inside you.

Zayne lets out a debauched moan, letting it rumble from his mouth straight into your cunt and it’s enough to have your eyes fluttering shut as you break over his mouth, whimpering, hips stuttering as the white-hot fire chases washes through you in a great wave, leaving you feeling boneless and slightly winded.

Zayne pulls away panting, licking his lips, his eyes dark as an oil spill, completely devoid of light as he stares up at you, his gaze more licentious than you’ve ever seen it before. Even in the champagne-bubble weightlessness of your post-orgasmic haze, you recognize the crystalizing need in his movements as he releases your thighs, his handprints inked into your skin, red and fresh — you’re sure they’ll still be there tomorrow.

“H-how do you want me?” you ask, your voice a little slurred as he reaches up to wipe a thumb along his bottom lip, collecting the remnants of your slick there, only to lean in and press his mouth to yours. You groan against him, the messy tang of your own juices sharp on your tongue as he kisses you, pressing you back into the mattress till you’re pinned beneath him.

“Just like this…” he whispers, and you marvel at the restraint still in his actions, even as he quickly sheds the rest of his clothing, tossing them off into the careless dark of the room.

There’s a moment, caught in-between one kiss and the next, where he pulls back and looks at you, his eyes so soft, his expression unguarded, where you wonder if you’ll ever be able to see yourself through his eyes, and a tender warmth spreads through you as you realize that this is what love has always meant to feel like. There have been fireworks, yes, and whirlwinds. There’ve been storms and sunny days. But there will always be moments like this, caught in the almost light of a moonless night, when you are so much more than the sum of your parts, added together.

When your bodies are more breath than air, skin and share, and all the parts of you that you might’ve wanted to hide from the world are here, collected in the negative space between your bodies, held and loved like buried treasure.

“I love you,” he says, quietly, simply.

You gasp as you feel him pushing into you, his cock stretching you till you’re nearly breathless.

“I — I love you too.”

Zayne nods, fucks into you till he’s bottomed out, and though you can feel his arms trembling with the effort, he holds still to let you adjust. And it’s not till you give him a tiny nod that he puffs out a held breath and pulls back to fuck right back into you again. You keen, head tossing back into the mess of sheets, feeling every vein and ridge of his cock as it drags along your clenching walls.

“I don’t — I won’t be able to —” he can’t make out a full sentence, but you don’t care, just the size and weight of him are enough to make your vision blinker out at the edges.

“Mm — h-harder — please Zayne —” and its his name more than anything that proves his undoing. He lets out a clipped grunt before straightening and pulling your legs up, shifting your hips till you’re flush against him.

“Y-yeah — I’ve got you —” he gives you calf a quick kiss before rucking his hips down, his cock ramming into your g-spot hard enough for you to see stars. And then hammering into you with a desperate speed, chasing his own pleasure and it’s all you can do to keep from being tossed over the edge, too far, too fast.

“Yes — yes — yes!” you’re babbling something, nails scrabbling at his arms, his chest, his back, at anything you can reach as he pummels your abused hole, bullying his cock deeper and deeper into you till you clench around him, your orgasm blazing through you even as he shows no signs of slowing down.

“It’s — you feel — so — tight —” his pace stutters, his voice breaking over your name as he hoists one of your legs over his hips, “I’m —”

You nod, reaching up to tug a strand of hair away from his sweat-slicked forehead.

“I-inside — you can — want you to fill me up —”

Zayne keens, thrusting forward one last time before you feel him pulsing inside you, the warm spill of his cum stuffing you full till you can feel the remnants leaking down the curve of your ass. You bite your lips, swallowing hard as Zayne jerks into you a few more times till he finally stills, the pair of you both panting, your bodies sticky now with too many bodily fluids to count.

You let out a breathy laugh as he hisses, casting you a reproachful look.

“Y-you’re still hard…”

He sighs, nodding, “Yes… it’s one of the… more tedious side effects of the drug.”

He makes to pull out but you stop him, tugging him into your chest and running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair.

“You need to tell your R&D department that their antidote is very ineffective.”

Zayne chuckles, rolling onto his side and pulling you with him, the pair of you now curled into each other, his arms around you, his twitching cock still pressed inside you.

“Yes, I’ll be sure to send them a memo.”

You nuzzle further into his chest but your eyes catch on the clock hanging on the opposite wall and you frown.

“It’s only been… 43 minutes?”

Zayne glances at the clock as well before turning his gaze back towards you.

“Seems so.”

You lick your lips, feeling your mouth go dry as you feel him throb once more inside you.

“How long… did you say the effects last for again?”

Zayne heaves a very serious-sounding sigh even as you adjust yourself to be sitting over his hips, his cock sheathed inside you as you plant your hands on his chest.

“The R&D department said anywhere from a few hours to…” he lets his words trail off, a devious glint flashing behind his eyes, “in the worst cases, a few days.”

You shiver as he casually settles his palms on your hips, rocking you forward and back. You let out a hitched moan as your over-sensitive clit drags along the skin of his lower abdomen and his cock jerks inside you.

“D-days?” you echo, swirling your hips around in a soft figure 8 that has him sucking in a harsh breath, his brows furrowing with pleasure.

“Y-yeah… I’m assuming your offer of help still s-stands?” he does his level best to keep his voice dry, but his breath hitches as you pull yourself up the length of his cock before slamming back down. And already, there’s that self-same hunger eclipsing the light in his eyes as he stares down at the place where a thick ring of white has formed around the base of his cock, more liquid seeping out of you with every moment you make.

“Mm — maybe I’ll need a f-few breaks but —” you whimper as he thrust up into you, his thighs clenching beneath you, “like you said w-we just n-need to ride it out, right?”

Zayne purses his lips in concentration as he roots his feet into the bed before fucking up into you once, twice, three times, bouncing you on his cock with the sheer strength of his legs and thighs.

“Right.”

all taglist pt 1: @faeryminnyx @trashkitty @sorapricots @tricia816xoxo @nayo3ns @veetallla @notfr0mh3r3 @sh4nn @animecrazy76 @celestialforce @celestialzdiviner @m00nchildwrites @glitching-wren @ivana013-blog @rafayelsgf @pikachuzhc @angellinnie @stardewy @zombigirlfriendsblog @storyland-ofstars @xxfaithlynxx @crazy-ink-artist

all taglist pt 2: @wowunreal @boobearymuch @livonianmaia @celestialmoni @colorfulgardenerduck @bunnylechef @rikiwaify-blog @deepspacewithrafayel @nogitsune-the @carrotsandkoos @stardustwtx @yaoduriaa @queen-serena88 @stunies @simpingdailyforthem @love-and-deepstrays @small-fry28

the rest of the tags will be in the reblog!

4K notes · View notes

erensfeed · 11 days ago

Text

THE PARALLELS ARE INSANE.

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

2K notes · View notes

always-just-red · 4 months ago

Note

A multi-headcanon request please. How the boys react when they discover their s/o has been hiding a wound from them because she had it under control and didn't want to give them something else to worry about

Hi! Thanks so much for the request and all the support! Have written a little fic for each of the guys, starring... - Xavier, Deepspace Hunter extraordinaire ✨ - Linkon's worst best baking partner, Zayne 🍪 - Drama queen Rafayel 👑 - King of self-care, Sylus 💅

Putting On A Brave Face

L&DS Boys x Reader

Summary: Sometimes, a certain hunter likes to say things are fine when they definitely aren't...

Genre: A lil bit of angst, mostly fluff + comfort!

Warnings/Additional tags: female reader, established relationship, swearing, canon pet names, some injury details/blood mentioned, teeeeency bit of suggestion (I'm looking at YOU, Sylus...)

| Word count: 4k (1k each!) | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Xavier ⭐

This is bad. Not ‘end of everything as we know it’ bad, but definitely ‘an obscene amount of paperwork’ bad.

You clutch one of your pistols to your chest— deep breath— and you listen carefully, your head leant back against the rock you’re using as cover. Your mind latches on to every sound: each growl, each rumble of earth that marks the movements of the Wanderers that have trapped you here.

You’ve fought worse odds, but then again, you don’t usually have to do it with a broken leg.

Or maybe just sprained? You shift a little, trying to move, and the pain that sears through you settles the debate in an instant. Your teeth sink into the back of your hand to keep you from crying out.

You hope Xavier’s ok. You sent him your co-ordinates minutes ago, and the lack of response has worry gnawing away at the deepest parts of you. You check your hunter’s watch.

Still nothing.

Another deep breath, and you readjust your position as much as you can. Balancing on your good leg, you manage to peer over the top of the rock to get a visual of your surroundings.

There’s four, no— five Wanderers. Stupid no-hunt zone; you’re never not outnumbered.

You can see your second pistol, abandoned in the middle of the clearing where you’d dropped it. There’s flickers of movement, too: further in the woods. More Wanderers. Shit.

You duck behind the rock you’re starting to think might be your new home. Then your watch flickers, broadcasting a map of the area, and there’s the co-ordinates of another hunter, closing in fast.

Something flashes in the clearing, lighting the dark of the forest like a stutter of lightning. Then again. Then again. There’s a blood-curdling roar, and it ends— abrupt— with another flash.

Everything goes silent, save for a familiar voice calling your name.

“Xavier!” you call back.

You peek over the rock to see your partner jogging towards you, dead Wanderers littered behind him. “Are you alright?” he asks, his voice soft as always, but his sword is still dripping blood.

“I’m ok.” You clamber up, using the rock as a seat when the small effort almost breaks you. “You?”

Xavier draws close— his gloved hands on your face, cupping your cheeks. His thumb grazes over a shallow scrape on your brow. “Yeah,” he answers.

“Did you find that weird Wanderer?”

He shakes his head: no. Steps back to check his watch. “It’s probably moved on to a different zone by now.”

“Then we should look for it,” you say, standing up. All of your weight is on one leg.

“Ah,” Xavier ponders, rubbing his neck, “really? I thought we should maybe head back.”

“No need.” And what’s the plan here, exactly? You can’t walk. You definitely can’t fight. Maybe you can wait here while he— no. He’s never going to leave you. “I told you I’m ok.”

“But you’re not.”

“I am,” you assert. You’re determined to convince him and your own, useless body. It’s just a sprain. It is just a sprain. You take a step forwards and stumble, your bad leg crumpling beneath you.

Xavier catches you, strong and solid, and he's holding you like you’re something delicate. He sets you down on the rock again. The pain is making your vision swim.

“You’re hurt,” he reasons gently, even though the truth of it is a knife that’s twisting in your heart. He seems to sense your reluctance: “There’s no shame in admitting that. It happens. Let’s go back.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m slowing you down, Xavier!” you gush. Your heart is split open and it has to bleed somewhere. “You have no idea what it’s like… being your partner.”

He’s looking at you with so much guilt and gods, you wish that somewhere was anywhere but his hands. “What do you mean?” he asks on a shaky breath.

“I love working with you.” Soften the blow. “I love being with you, but you don’t need me. You’re this incredible hunter. This figure of legend, of everyone’s stories. You can do so much on your own and I just don’t know how to keep up. I mean, look at me— I can’t.”

You feel sick. Empty. “You shouldn’t have to hang back for me,” you finish limply. “You’re you, Xavier. You can fight like a hundred Wanderers and still come out unscathed.”

The blue of Xavier’s eyes has grown understandably more turbulent, though it settles a little. He seems to relax. “Yeah… about that,” he mumbles hesitantly.

He turns around and your mouth drops. A savage cut drapes like a crimson sash down his back, splitting the white of his uniform. It’s not deep enough to be fatal, but it’s not good, either.

“Wha— Xavier!” you exclaim, trying to surge forwards, but your pain keeps you rooted. “You said you were ok!”

“So did you,” he frowns, bewildered. “Can we get out of—”

“Yeah, yeah.” You let him take your arm and help you to your feet.

He leads you through the clearing and into the forest, supporting your weight as you hop along beside him. There’s a murmur about how he should carry you, but you’re quick to reassure him he’s doing enough. You’re both hurting; you both just need to survive the short walk out of the no-hunt zone, where a med team can take over.

“You don’t slow me down, you know,” Xavier says quietly, after a minute of silence. “You’re the reason I can keep going.”

You squeeze his arm affectionately, mustering a smile even though you’re nauseous with pain and the idea that he’s been dwelling on your speech this whole time. “Well,” you chuckle through gritted teeth, “you’re gonna have to learn how to get by without me.”

“Huh?” He gives you a curious look.

You glance down at your leg. “Zayne’s gonna kill me...”

Zayne ❄

“I’m a doctor.”

You stop what you’re doing to fix Zayne with a questioning stare. “Ok…?”

“I’ve published dozens of research papers. Pioneered new surgical techniques. My work on Evol-based regenerative properties still has lasting implications for my field, and I’ve the accolades to show for it. The Starcatcher Award. The Linde Award, too— I was the youngest ever recipient.”

None of this is news to you, and you can’t help chuckling at this change in your usually-humble physician. You humour him: “The youngest ever recipient, huh?” There’s a crack as you split an egg on the side of the bowl in front of you. “That’s very impressive.”

“Is it?”

Zayne stands from his seat at your kitchen table: you hear the chair draw back. You feel his presence arrive behind you as you continue to stir your soon-to-be cookie dough. “Yeah,” you lilt with a smile.

“Really?” he pushes again, and his arms wrap around you as he bends to speak into your ear. “Because someone seems to think I can’t even recognise a—” he nips at it— “sprained ankle.”

His breath is warm on your neck and you let out a giggle. “Keep speaking to me like that and these cookies are never making it into the oven. Or your stomach.”

The man relents. He releases you, not returning to his seat but opting to lean against the kitchen counter instead. You glance up at him; he stares back, waiting for an actual answer.

“My ankle is fine, Zayne.”

There’s a sigh as he crosses his arms.

“It is,” you insist, even though you did sprain your ankle at work today, it does hurt like hell, and you do just want to sit down. You reach for the flour you’d measured out previously, tipping it into the larger bowl. “If it wasn’t, would I really be here— making you cookies?”

“Yes,” he says plainly.

“You’re delusional.”

“Ok.”

Well, that was a little too easy. Don’t overthink it, and definitely don’t read into the fact that he’s standing there oh-so-smugly, like he knows something you don’t. You finish stirring the flour into the mixture, then add the last of the ingredients. Just a pinch of salt, and then…

Where did you put the chocolate chips? You glance about yourself but they’re nowhere in sight. “Hey, Zayne? Have you seen the—”

“This cupboard,” he indicates with an upwards nod of his head. His eyes are relentless. “Top shelf.”

Ah. That’s ok. You’ve totally got this. You move beneath the cupboard, opening it and gazing up into the contents. You can see the pack of chocolate chips. You can get up there somehow, right?

“Would you like me to—” Zayne starts, but you cut him off:

“Nope.” You put your hands on your hips. “Please— if I can climb the back of an alive, awake, and very angry deluge wyrmlord to put a sword through its skull, I think I can make it onto the kitchen counter in one piece. Lemme just…”

Your knee lifts. You make it about a centimetre from the floor before Zayne’s hands are on your waist, grounding you. “Stop,” he instructs, and it's not a tone that allows for any rebuttal. Satisfied by your silence, he brings the chocolate chips down to you.

“Thanks,” you say quietly as they’re placed on the counter.

“You’re welcome."

Sheepishly, you spill a generous amount of chocolate chips into the cookie mixture. Your throat hurts in the way that keeps you from saying anything more. You already feel like an idiot, and your eyes are watering, threatening to make you look like even more of one.

Zayne’s hand appears in front of you, hovering over the bowl. You laugh in understanding: giving the half-empty bag another shake so chocolate chips fall into his palm.

“You… don’t have to explain yourself,” he says as he lifts them to his mouth. His next words are muffled: “But you can tell me anything, my love. I never want you to feel as though you can’t.”

You chuckle again; you can’t help yourself. Look at him: your oh-so-serious doctor shovelling chocolate into his mouth. He raises an eyebrow at you, his lips still on his palm.

“I know I can tell you anything,” you smile, the ache in your throat receding, however much the rest of you hurts. “I did sprain my ankle. It’s not that I wanted to hide it from you, it’s just—” you stop stirring the mixture— “it’s just that your whole life is taking care of people at the hospital. You should get a break from it. You should get to be Zayne, here… at home. Just Zayne, not Doctor Zayne.”

Zayne’s hazel eyes have taken on a hue of regret. He pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, buying himself a few seconds as he contemplates. “Are you a doctor?” he asks after a moment.

“No?”

“And yet, here you are, taking care of me.” He reaches for the abandoned packet of chocolate chips. “Tell me, does it feel like work to you?”

“Yeah,” you tease, drawing the packet away from his stretching fingers in explanation; you’re both grinning.

“Well, it never feels like work to me. Just Zayne likes taking care of you. And right now? He wants to bundle you up on the sofa and finish these cookies for you.”

You purse your lips: that’s some dubious wording. “Zayne, hell will freeze over before I leave you and this cookie dough unsupervised.”

He shushes you, pulling on the cord of your apron until the bow at your back comes loose. Before you can protest, he’s wearing the apron himself.

“Zayne, I’m not kidding. I know what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna get rid of me, and then you’ll—”

“Shh,” he coos again, whisking you carefully off your feet, because it’s time for a taste of your own medicine. “You’re delusional.”

Rafayel 🔥

“Mmhmm. Mmhmm.”

“Raf, who are you—”

He holds out a finger to shush you. “Mmhmm.”

You cross your arms impatiently. Who is he even talking to, anyway? His lilac eyes are locked on you as he continues humming away, apparently very invested in whatever the person on the phone is saying; you’ve never seen him go this long without talking.

He narrows his eyes at you. You narrow your eyes right back.

All around you, guests of the exhibition are milling about, all dressed to the nines and minding their business, however much they want the attention of the man in front of you. A few of them linger as they pass him, like they want to say something, like they’re going to say something…

But they don’t.

It’s a wonder that Rafayel stands out in the crowd as much as he does. You’d seamlessly located him, back from your third trip to the bathroom to check on the bandages you’ve managed to conceal beneath this dress. He’s still holding your purse for you, his phone in his other hand, except—

That’s your phone. That’s your phone! “Rafayel!”

He shushes you again. “I understand,” he says solemnly, notably not to you, “thanks for letting me know.” The call is ended. He takes a deep, collected breath, then looks at you. “I knew it!”

“Knew what? Who was that?”

“Zayne.”

“You called Zayne?”

“Like I had a choice!” Rafayel retaliates. It is true; he’s spent the entire evening trying to get you to admit something was wrong, and you had no intention of giving him that pleasure. “You’re supposed to be in the hospital! What kind of idiot breaks out of the hospital?”

The lack of irony in the question almost breaks you. “Umm… you?! Like every other week?!”

He shrugs. “That’s different.”

“Rafayel, I swear, I’m gonna— ah!” you gasp in pain. You’d stepped forwards too quickly— maybe to strangle him, but that’s neither here nor there— and the wound on your side is clearly on his side. It stings like hell: punishing you, and you know the pain is self-inflicted.

Rafayel frowns in concern, maybe even guilt, and that’s why you didn’t tell him. “C’mon, we should go,” he insists gravely.

“It’s fine, Raf. It doesn’t even—”

“Stop lying! You said you wouldn’t hide stuff like this from me. You promised, remember?”

You’re losing track of all the promises you’ve made to the Lemurian, but you do remember that one. Guilt has its teeth in you, too. “I know,” you grumble, “I’m sorry, ok? I just knew—”

“What?”

“That you’d act like this! You’ve been working on this exhibition for months, Raf. Tonight is supposed to be about you. Not me— you. And I want it to stay that way. Everyone’s here to celebrate you and your work, and that’s how it should be. That’s what I want. To support you. To be here for you.”

Your voice has gone timid. You finish meekly: “Can’t you let me do this for you? Please?”

Rafayel’s eyes are wide and still the prettiest things you’ve ever seen, even in a room full of masterpieces and jewels you could never afford. They shine with uncertainty, but soften as he smiles, full of fondness and affection. “That’s sweet. But also? Really dumb.”

“Raf—”

“The only— and I mean only— reason I’m here tonight is because you are. I don’t care about what anyone thinks about me or my paintings. Just you. And you can see this?” He gestures around the gallery. “Anytime. My life’s your private exhibition, cutie. Exclusive access, 24/7, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

He steps closer to you: close enough that he can see the tear that’s made it halfway down your cheek. He wipes it away with a chuckle. “Plus,” he adds, “I know you know I’m amazing. You don’t need these old sourpusses to tell you that, do you?”

You laugh tentatively. “No, I don’t.”

Your injury protests as you use the lapels on Rafayel’s blazer to pull him closer; you have to stand on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He’s still grinning as he draws away, a light blush on his cheeks, but the sweetness of the moment vanishes as his gaze drifts lower.

“My eyes are up here, Rafayel.”

“Yeah…” he concedes mindlessly, but then he points: “you know you’re like, bleeding, right?”

You glance downwards to where the red of your dress is turning darker. There’s just a small splotch, but it’s growing. Shit. You must have reopened the wound.

“Thomas?” you hear Rafayel call, and then he’s stuffing a silk handkerchief into your hands— helping you apply pressure. “We have to get out of here,” he explains as a figure joins you.

His agent folds his arms; this is not dissimilar to stunts you and Rafayel have pulled before. “Fake blood, guys? Really?” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You can’t leave, Rafayel. I can just see the headlines tomorrow…”

“Dashing artist selflessly flees exhibition to save devoted bodyguard,” Rafayel concurs with a nod.

Thomas groans. “That’s not what they’re going to—”

“Help me out with this, cutie?”

“Yes, sir,” you mock salute.

A moment later, Rafayel has scooped you up into his arms. Your hero; he gives you a conspiratorial wink before glancing about frantically. “Quickly!” he cries out. “Everyone out of the way, please!”

“For the love of—” Thomas starts.

“Oh, gods!” you shout in agony. “It hurts. It hurts!”

Heads turn. Cameras flash.

Tomorrow morning, half of Linkon will be talking about one of their favourite celebrities and his long-envied bodyguard. A news article will pop-up on her doctor’s phone, and he’ll see the pictures and sigh.

Sylus 🩸

“It’s not too late to back down, sweetie,” Sylus sneers.

“Aw, but you got all dressed up for the occasion.”

Your eyes rake over the outline of the man’s abs, courtesy of the tank top he’s wearing, and it does take the sting out of the fact that he’ll be trying to hit you. He holds his wrapped hands before him, ready to defend, ready to attack. He’ll probably attack, right?

“Last chance,” he growls.

“Is it, though?” This is the third ‘last chance’ you’ve been given in the five minutes you’ve been teetering on combat. You beckon him with a curl of your fingers. “Come on, Sylus. This is getting old.”

He scoffs: “How do you think I feel?”

“Like you’re about to get your ass kicked?”

“Alright, enough.” His hands drop and it feels like you’re back at the academy, about to be scolded for not taking something seriously. Sylus turns his back on you. Moves to the edge of the boxing ring so he can retrieve a stool from outside of it and sit down in a huff. He starts peeling the wraps from his knuckles, and— wait, is he mad? Like, actually mad?

“What’s wrong, Sy?”

He laughs as though you’re missing something dreadfully obvious. Maybe irony.

“Sylus?”

“You really are heartless, sweetie. You know that?”

The words steal your breath away, if only for a moment. Yours is a relationship of pulled punches, but he won’t meet your gaze and that one was real, wasn’t it? He wanted it to sting. “Why—”

“I could have hurt you,” he snaps, his dishevelled, snowy hair falling to cover his eyes. His discarded wraps slide from his hands, pooling by his feet like blood. “You were going to let me hurt you.”

He looks at you, finally, but it’s not in the way you want. His gaze is cast low, trailing over your body and making you feel every bruise, every closed cut that wants to reopen and every ache, rooted almost to bone. You’d done your best to hide it, even going so far as to press make-up hastily over your purpled skin.

That Wanderer really did a number on you yesterday.

“You should have told me,” Sylus says, since you’ve made it onto the same page. “Honestly, kitten. Why would you—”

“Because Luke and Kieran told me, ok?”

Oh, they’re going to kill you. It was supposed to be a secret, and here you are, spilling like a fresh wound because you can’t stand the thought of Sylus being upset with you. You step closer, scrambling to dissect what you’ve done right in front of his eyes— holding it out to him: this is why. This is why. “They said you had a rough week. Some deals of yours had fallen through or something. And I’ve been too busy. I haven’t called, I haven’t even texted, and…”

You need him to understand, but the truth is a mess in your hands and how do you even start to explain it to him?

“You wanted to do something for me,” he finishes for you, and you don’t have to explain a thing.

“Yeah…” you confirm, bittersweet and still sad. “You do so much for me, Sylus. I just wanted to do what you wanted, for a change.”

Maybe it’s a round of boxing. Maybe it’s a dozen illicit dealings where he needs you to play enforcer— it doesn’t matter. As long as he’s happy.

“Come here,” he orders gently.

You close the rest of the rift between you, letting him reach for you and pull you closer. His knees have spread so you can slot against him, and his arms circle around you— trapping you— as he nuzzles into the warmth of your stomach.

“I’m sorry I called you heartless,” he speaks into you, his voice muffled as he gives you a chaste kiss. He then cranes his head upwards, resting his chin against you so he can profess more clearly: “I do worry about you, kitten.”

“I know—” your hands move to his head— “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”

“Mmm,” he hums in accordance, maybe even forgiveness, and his eyes close as your fingers card through the soft of his hair. “I lied too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he confesses on a contented sigh. “I didn’t want to spend today… boxing.”

“What do you want to do today, Sy?”

His eyes flicker open and his hands find your hips. “What I really want…” he contemplates, as his thumbs slip under the hem of your shirt to rub circles on your skin, “is to take care of you.”

There are lifetimes of need in his gaze.

“Won’t you let me take care of you, sweetie?”

…

“If he finds the terms so disagreeable, then he’s more than welcome to take his business elsewhere. Although—” Sylus’s voice is cold— “he might find his other options less… amenable than when he saw them last. Less communicative, too. You can tell him I said so.”

He ends the phone call. Smiles. “Sorry about that, sweetie.”

“Are the boys ok?”

The smile widens, even though you can’t see it. “They’re fine.”

Phone set aside, Sylus carries on with the important business Kieran’s call had distracted him from. You’re half asleep, your head in his lap as he brushes your hair: rose-scented and soft from the bath he’d drawn for you, hours ago. Every bandage is fresh and clean. Every ache has been dulled with a lazy massage and more chaste kisses, for good measure.

“Perfect day,” you mumble blissfully.

“Perfect day,” Sylus agrees.

#🖋rach is actually writing #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader #sylus x reader #love and deepspace #lads x reader #lads x mc #shen xinghui #li shen #qi yu #qin che #lads #lnds #l&ds

2K notes · View notes

queen-quintonz · 7 months ago

Text

What the actual fuck.

The desperation… both hands cradling your head… his voice crack… his urgency.

“I need you. I have never denied that” OH LORDDDDDDD

#zayne x reader #lads zayne #love and deepspace x reader #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace #zayne imagines #dr zayne #l&ds zayne #zayne smut #li shen #lads #zayne headcanons #zayne x you #zayne x mc

5K notes · View notes

plutotheplum · 1 month ago

Text

ᡣ𐭩 zayne | head under the desk ᡣ𐭩

zayne is a professional man, by all standards.

or he tries to convince himself that he is. he treats his patients with respect, listens to their concerns and provides them with the help they need. he is a professional.

but you seem to turn professionalism on its head. zayne doesn’t know how it started, although he suspects it was when you squirmed onto his lap in the afternoon, complaining about how he was spending too much time in his office and not enough time at home. zayne had soothed your worries with a kiss and a squeeze to the waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as he had worked through the necessary paperwork for his patients.

he hadn’t quite understood then why you’d insisted on sitting on the floor of all places, worming out of his lap and into the space between his legs, your cheek resting on his thigh. he hadn’t even minded until he felt your fingers pulling at his chair, boxing you in under his desk. zayne had protested, but his resolve shattered the moment you had mouthed at his clothed cock, your mouth wet against the fabric of his slacks.

you were insatiable, zayne had realised in that moment, his eyes narrowing as he had watched the haze that had come over your eyes as you’d drooled on his slacks, mouthing and licking and making soft, little noises until he gave in and pulled his cock out for you.

he had watched you take it, despite the threatening urge to let his head tip back, your mouth making room for his thick cock as you slurped and sucked, tongue flicking at his throbbing head, wet with pre-cum. you had made him cum like that, mouth working along his cock, obscene noises filling his professional space. and you swallowed it down too, like a good girl, his voice rasping and breathless as he’d praised you and caressed your cheek, smearing the tip of his cock against your lips to watch his cum be licked up by his darling.

zayne shouldn’t have let you do it.

it’s why he’s in this situation now, his cock stuffed down your throat and some intern sitting across from him, droning on about suturing techniques. zayne tries to pay attention, he really does, but when you suckle at the sensitive head of his cock, a shudder rushes through him, his hand slapping against the desk in an effort to stop the moan.

the intern asks whether he’s okay and zayne can only give him a jerky nod, his gaze dropping down for a split second to see the soft smile on your face as you kiss the tip of his cock delicately. zayne thinks you look beautiful.

beautiful but devious with the way you latch onto his balls, his hand clenching into a fist as he tells the intern that yes, a simple interrupted suture would be best. zayne tries to think through the heavy haze of arousal, his vision blurring for a moment when he feels you nuzzle into his cock, beginning to lap at the tip again.

he can feel you shift subtly, trapping his leg between your thighs, your hips rocking needily as you take his cock deeper, your greedy fingers creeping up to feel his tensed abdomen. his cock is terribly sensitive and you aren’t helping, so much so that he mutters a low curse.

zayne has no choice but to cut the discussion short, telling the intern that no, he is actually feeling sick. the intern looks apologetic as he leaves and zayne groans the moment the intern is out the door, his teeth sinking into his fist as he leans back and watches you worship his cock.

you’re both too addicted to the rush of indecency to stop. zayne puts his hand on your head, guiding you down slowly until you swallow the entirety of his cock, your fingers moving needily between your thighs as you suck greedily, drinking down every drop of pre-cum that zayne has to offer.

he can feel the press of your nose against his pelvis, his head dropping forward as he peers down into your eyes, thumb smoothing over the outline that his cock has made against your cheek.

you let your tongue loll out and zayne bites back a whine as he slaps his cock against your tongue, feeding it to you again until you suck and lick and he’s cumming, thighs twitching and chair creaking as he presses his hips forward, flush against your mouth.

he covers his face with his hand, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. zayne can feel the curve of your smile against his skin as you kiss his thighs, and watches you dazedly as you rise up and crawl up onto his lap, peppering sticky kisses along his cheek before licking into his mouth.

zayne can taste himself on your tongue, a soft moan spilling out of him when he feels you press closer, breasts squished up against his chest, your smile and starry eyes making his head spin and heart ache.

it’s only right of him to repay the favor when you get home, his mouth lapping at your cunt over and over until you cry and beg for his cock, utterly overstimulated and yet still needy.

he stuffs you full with his cock, fucks you until you’re both limbless and sensitive and curled up together in bed, arms and legs tangled in a messy embrace.

“fun,” you mumble, voice hoarse, “again?”

“no,” zayne replies, his own voice raspy, “you can’t do that again.”

he smiles faintly when he sees the pout on your face, his fingers squishing your cheeks to make your lips pucker out so that he can kiss you gently.

zayne is nothing if not terribly weak for you.

you end up under his desk, fat cock stuffed down your throat the following week.

#zayne smut #zayne #zayne x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace zayne #lnd zayne #lnd smut #li shen

1K notes · View notes

ilovemitsuya · 1 month ago

Text

The way Zayne holds her close so she listens to his heartbeat ♡

he’s so husband material

1K notes · View notes

kykyonthemoon · 10 months ago

Text

How to babysit a wounded little Hunter

Injured after a mission, you now indulge yourself in his special tender loving care.

ಇ. Character x Female Reader fanfic,

including Caleb, Rafayel, Xavier and Zayne

ಇ. Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, early stage of established relationship

A little heads up: The writer will not take responsibility for any side effect (such as toothache) that might come after reading the fic.

ಇ. Word count: 4k

ಇ. Requested by Wytchie Pie and x

ಇ. Masterlist ♡ Request a fic ♡

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃

You dimly sensed footsteps in the bedroom, and then one side of the bed sank. The acquainted scent and warmth embraced you. A cool hand rested on your forehead. In an instant, the heat in your body subsided.

So as soon as that hand was gone, you seized it.

"Don't go…"

You mumbled in a daze. There was a quiet laugh close to your ear, and then that palm brushed against your forehead again.

"If you don't let go, how can I take your temperature then, pipsqueak?"

You recognized that voice. It was Caleb's. So you acted even more aggressively. You yanked his hand tighter, so much so that his entire body appeared to collapse into the bed, just a little above yours.

"Huh? Aren't you a little too strong for someone who is sick?" Caleb laughed again. The sort of laughter that made you feel considerably better.

"I'm not sick." You were persistent, still. "Just feeling a little sleepy."

Caleb's hand tried to pull away from you. But perhaps he kept it that way on purpose, since given your current state, he would have no problem withdrawing if he truly wanted you to let go.

Caleb's hand patted you a little tenderly. He managed to grab the thermometer with his free hand. He took your temperature, then exclaimed:

"Almost forty Celsius!"

You exhaled heavily, almost a moan. Every part of you felt irritated and heated. Despite this, you dismissed it, saying:

"I'm not... sick..."

Caleb used the chance to release his wrist from you. You opened your eyes slightly and gave him a disappointed expression.

"You have such a high fever, yet still saying you're not sick?" Caleb mumbled, but you caught every word. He handed you medicine, but you did not take it.

"Too bitter." You said.

"Quit whining. "Just take it and go to sleep."

"If I take it… you'll have to stay here with me, okay?"

Caleb sighed. "Only until you sleep, pipsqueak."

You smiled faintly and fast to accept the pills from Caleb's hand. You clutched his hand securely as you drifted off to sleep, dreaming of the Wanderers, the escapes, and the secrets in which you were a part of. Then, when you woke up again, you noticed Caleb seated beside the bed.

“You're awake now, pipsqueak?” He smiled at you. He was rather relieved. He put a hand on your forehead again. “Yup. No more fever."

Caleb's presence seemed to chase the nightmares away. You removed his hand from your forehead and held it tightly.

“How long have I been sleeping?”

"Let's see…" Caleb brushed his chin. "When you arrived home last night, you went to bed right away. You got a high temperature around early morning. From the time you took the medicine and fell asleep until now, I've finished a whole movie, cooked a delicious pot of porridge, and measured your temperature three times."

"What nonsense are you talking about?"

Caleb laughed. He squeezed your hand once. "You've just been asleep for a few hours. But it is past noon now. Are you hungry?"

You shook your head.

"Are you sure?" Caleb asked again. "I made a super delicious pork rib porridge for you though."

You opened your eyes wide and looked at him. Pork rib porridge was a dish he would often cook when you were sick and no longer in a mood to eat anything. That dish always helped you feel better, even just hearing about it was enough to make you crave food again.

"Pork rib porridge…"

You could only whisper that much when Caleb pressed the tip of your nose and said:

“I knew right away that you couldn't resist food.”

A minute later, the room was filled with the aroma of a still-hot bowl of porridge. Caleb put it on a little tray over the bed. You lay back against the cushion, staring at the meal in front of you as if it were a rare delicacy, despite the fact that the ingredients were absolutely basic.

You looked over at Caleb. He was observing you. "What's wrong? Still no appetite?"

“It's too hot…” You pouted. “Besides,… both my arms and body are aching…”

It took a quite difficult mission in extreme weather, and a high fever to receive special care at your bedside. How could you not enjoy it?

Caleb read you right away. He said: “What? The Hunter in Linkon wants me to feed her? Weren't you delirious this morning, saying you had to go fight off Wanderers?”

“When did I say that? But it's okay if you don't help me. I don't want to eat anymore.”

“Are you still a three-year-old then?”

Even though he grumbled, Caleb still smiled very gently. He scooped a spoonful of porridge, blew on it to cool down, then held it out to you.

You opened your mouth really wide, making him chuckle. When he saw that you were eating well, Caleb felt relieved. He teased:

"I thought you're a grown-up now and wouldn't need me to take care of you anymore."

You replied, still with a mouthful of pork rib porridge: "When you lose your cooking skills, I won't really need you anymore then."

Caleb laughed aloud. He patted your head and said: "I didn’t expect my vacation to turn into a part-time job for babysitting. If I catch a fever from you, you must take care of me in return.”

You rose up in a sudden and pressed your still-hot face into the crook of Caleb's neck, nearly dropping the porridge spoon.

“Then I’ll cook pork rib porridge for you. Just heads-up though, even if it tastes yucky, you must eat it all!”

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

The door to the hospital room opened. Rafayel's curly purple hair appeared. And immediately, your phone lit up with a text message from Thomas:

[The little devil is coming for you. Sorry, I did my best.]

You exhaled. Clearly, he had not done his best. That was why Rafayel was here, staring at you with such a deep gaze from the entrance.

"Er… "Hello, Rafayel..." You waved your arm, attempting to greet him with a warm smile.

"Rafayel?" He frowned. "Do you still remember that we know each other?"

"Huh? Why did you...?" You left your sentence incomplete as Rafayel surged inside. He placed his hands on his hips, his expression filled with slanderous words as he accused you.

"Who are you? Do I know you? It's been eight hundred years. Jellyfishes are walkin' naked. Sea turtles climb trees. Sharks are eatin' grass for free! And finally, you remembered me?"

You frowned. Why was there something that rang so familiar with this scenario? Yet it was still off.

“Rafayel, I—”

“When are you going to tell me you're hurt?”

Rafayel pointed a finger directly to your shoulder, where the white bandage was visible through the hospital gown. That was the real reason he was precisely distressed.

“Even Thomas knew you were injured. Yet you didn't say a word to me?! You left me waiting alone for three hours at the exhibition. I can't believe you stood me up!”

You lifted your hand, intending to remind Rafayel to keep his voice down because you were both in the hospital. But he gave you no opportunity to speak.

"Do you realize how scared I was? When Thomas told me you couldn't come, I thought about all the things that could happen to you!”

"Rafayel…" You finally found a chance to interrupt him. “Let's calm down first. I didn't mean to hide it from you, it's just... I haven't told you yet..."

Rafayel crossed his arms. He was still irritated.

“I can't believe it! You deliberately manipulated me with your innocence so that I would let you get away this time!”

You felt dizzy in the head, and your ears were ringing with Rafayel's nagging words and accusations. The injured one was you. Why did you feel as if you had just committed a great sin?

"ARGHHH!" You shouted and clutched your bandaged shoulder. "It hurts!"

Rafayel quickly forgot the rage in his heart. He moved right away to the bed and gently raised your arm. His eyes were full of concern and anxiety.

“Are you hurt? I'll call the doctor here right away!”

You grasped Rafayel's hand, urging him to stay with you.

“See? I'm still very strong. Just a little hurt."

"How much is a little?" Rafayel frowned. You could feel his hot glare on your shoulder, soaking into the bandage and searing your wound.

"… This much." You clasped your thumb and index finger to form a circle, then held it up for Rafayel to see. He grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest.

"I don't believe you anymore." He continued to speak with a condescending tone. "I have to check it out with my own eyes."

"Huh? What do you mean?…” You suddenly blushed. Rafayel looked at you with serious eyes, yet very sincere. He replied:

“Your wound. I want to see it."

The mere notion of Rafayel wanting to look behind your garments made your cheeks flame. You withdrew your hand and refused:

“I told you I'm fine… Don't make such a scene…”

“If I don't see it, how can I be sure you're not lying to me? This isn't the first time you've hidden your injuries..."

That was all Rafayel said. You gazed at him for a second. Aside from being concerned about you, he was also saddened since you had repeatedly hidden your wounds from him. A great deal when you did not want to bother him, he always found out and became much more frustrated.

"Alright then…"

Eventually, you had to give in. You turned your back to Rafayel and carefully slipped the shirt collar down your shoulder, displaying the neatly wrapped bandages around your torso.

You could see your reflection in the front window. Your face turned crimson. And Rafayel stood next to the bed, attentively investigating you, his fingers softly caressing the gauze, causing you to bow slightly in pain as well as anxiousness.

“Yet you said it was just a little wound.” Rafayel muttered. It was his hand that drew your collar back up. And the next thing you knew, you were upgraded to the best room at the hospital.

You weren't used to how wealthy people spent their money. You looked at Rafayel, who had constantly been by your side during your hospital stay. He requested you to remain in the most advanced hospital room, with the greatest level of care. More than that, he refused to leave your side even when you asked to be alone.

"You don't have to do this, Rafayel." You spoke as he was peeling the fruit for you.

"Open your mouth." He handed you a slice of mango. Even if your lips stated it wasn't required, you nevertheless welcomed all of his attention.

"I'm serious…" As soon as you finished swallowing the mango, he gave you another slice. "Really, um... This mango is truly delicious..."

"Do you crave anything else?" Rafayel purposely ignored every time you told him he didn't need to stay there all day and night to care for you. Your wound had improved significantly.

“I think I can be discharged from hospital and get back to work now…” You said. “I don't want to bother you anymore…”

"What's that?" Rafayel pretended not to hear you. “I think I heard the sound of abalone porridge just being delivered to the hospital. Let me go grab it.”

You sighed. Another expensive meal he had prepared for you. But you knew how much you would miss these things when you left the hospital at last and could no longer benefit from his tender loving care.

“Maybe I'll stay here one more day... You're spoiling me too much...” You muttered beneath your breath, but Rafayel overheard everything. He pinched your cheek and responded:

“You're staying because of the delicious food, not because of my devoted service? This is so heartbreaking! Then, after you've recovered, I'll make you repay everything. You have to work overtime as my bodyguard too!"

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

You crept along the hospital's vacant rear door. You were just hospitalized in the afternoon due to an injury suffered while on job. Even though the doctor advised you to stay for additional examination, you believed the damage was minor. On top of that, the mission was not yet over. You needed to get back to headquarters.

Unfortunately, your escape did not go well. You ran into a familiar shoulder before you could complete the corridor.

"X-Xavier?" You became pale, but not because of the pain. It was only that you were astonished and a little ashamed when caught red-handed.

His look was incredibly complicated, ranging from apprehensive to serious and somewhat furious.

"Where are you going?" he inquired.

You didn't dare to reveal the truth, so you invented an excuse: "Ah... well... The hospital room is quite boring, so I decided to go for a stroll."

"From the back door?"

"Er… I heard the nurse say this is a quicker shortcut to the garden..."

Xavier gazed at you for some time. You clutched your hand tight, terrified that he would not believe that ridiculous excuse. Yet, Xavier nodded at you: "Then let's go together."

Before you could respond, Xavier grabbed your hand and led you outside. It was night time, the wind blew, sending you a slight chill. Xavier took off his coat and draped it over your shoulders. That incredibly gentle gesture made you feel more guilty than ever for lying to him.

“Lead the way.” He told you shortly. For some reason, you had the impression that he was in extreme anger over you.

During the stroll, you didn't dare to speak, and Xavier did the same. He strolled close to you, as if keeping watch rather than walking together. You wandered about for a long time, but there was no trace of the hospital's garden anywhere. Xavier continued to follow your every step in such silence. Him being like that evoked even more guilt in your heart.

At last, you couldn't take it any longer and had to confess: "Xavier... Actually... The truth is, I don't know where the garden is..."

At that point, he spoke up and asked: "So why did you leave your hospital room?"

You didn't dare look into his eyes, so you just stammered an explanation: "Ah... My injury is nothing to be concerned about... That's why I... planned to return to headquarters..."

You noticed Xavier's hands clenching into fists. Fearing he'd be upset, you added: "The doctor also said my injury wasn't too serious— Ah!"

Xavier abruptly pulled your wrist, causing the wound on your arm to hurt. He read through your face which was miserable but still faking a smile. His voice turned sharp:

“If I hadn't caught you, would you really have sneaked away from the hospital?”

Your body convulsed in pain, but you were more concerned about Xavier's rage. You said, "I'm sorry... I was wrong... I'll return to the hospital room right now..."

"Good." Xavier responded curtly. Then he quickly leaned down and held you up in the attitude of a princess being carried.

"W-What are you doing, Xavier?"

"Let's take you back to the hospital room." His expression remained frigid, making you both terrified and embarrassed to be carried by him in such a manner.

Xavier did not return to the same path you had taken. Instead, he took you into the front entrance, where many people, including patients and hospital staff, could see you.

"Xavier? You... put me down! "They are looking at us!"

"I want them to see, so they know you intend to escape the hospital and will monitor you more closely."

Your cheeks became scarlet with humiliation. You swore you saw a kid pointing at you and chuckling, "Mom! I want to be carried like that princess, too!"

And you swore you saw Xavier smirking at that.

After an embarrassing journey, you finally arrived at your room. Xavier set you down on the bed. He chose to remain silent with you as punishment for your unsuccessful escape. You saw him sitting in the corner of the room, peeling a red apple for you.

“Xavier?”

You called out, but he didn't look at you and just replied curtly:

“Rest.”

“Are you angry with me?…”

Xavier's silence revealed the answer. You groaned and pulled the warm cover up high, as if to conceal yourself away from Xavier's rage, but he remained as quiet as a cloudless sky.

When he finished with the apple, he brought it over and gave you a slice. "Eat."

You did not enjoy this cold and distant demeanor of Xavier. If he was upset with you, he should have expressed it directly. You knew it was your fault, and he was so concerned about you that he got mad when you lied to him like that.

"Xavier, I'm sorry…" Your hands seized Xavier's wrist, which was clutching the apple slice. Your eyes widened as much as possible, even giving the impression that you were going to cry.

In the end, the ploy worked. His gaze had softened completely. He placed the plate of apples on the bed and used his other hand to elevate your chin a little. He said: "If you know your fault, then obediently eat all of these and rest."

His hand softly separated your lips, and his other hand inserted a slice of apple for you to eat. You were back in the sunshine, coaxing him to sit on the bed next to you.

"I'll give you three days to recover." Xavier spoke, his voice still agitated, but you could feel his boundless care and love.

"Then I shall bother you to watch over me for a few more days!"

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

You had just returned to your private cabin at the icy mountain base when you heard a tap at the door. You answered the door, wondering who was seeking for you at this hour, and there was Doctor Zayne, holding a first-aid kit while standing outside.

“Zayne?” Your eyes caught the blood on his face and neck. Snow adhered to his dark hair. You took a step back and allowed him inside. "Why are you here?"

Your team had accepted the mission of rescuing people caught in an avalanche created by a group of Wanderers on the mountain. You had learnt that a team of physicians from Akso Hospital was also on their way. But you did not expect to see Zayne here.

Zayne set the first aid pack on the table and then turned to you. He went on to say: "I'm here to do my duty as a doctor."

You widened your eyes and inquired him again, "Your duty as a doctor?"

Zayne pointed to your abdomen, which was soaked from your own blood oozing through the gauze you had recklessly covered earlier.

"Oh dear…" You cried out. You were so engaged in battles that you didn't have time to look at your wound. Your head began spinning as a result of excessive blood loss.

Zayne's powerful arms directed and assisted you to the table. He put you to the wooden table and took a chair to sit in front of you.

"Doctor Zayne, what are you going to do?"

You noted this when you found his hand on the hem of your shirt. He seemed to want to lift it up.

"Treating you."

You knew that. But you were still extremely nervous when thinking that he was about to lift up your shirt. So your hand was still securely grasping his, preventing him from moving any further.

“I've already bandaged it. A nurse also helped me stitch up the wound earlier..."

During the turmoil, you recalled being stabbed in the abdomen. A nurse assisted you in stitching it up, but because there were so many others with more serious injuries, you let her tend to them while you put bandages over yourself and returned to the battlefield. Perhaps your clumsiness caused the wound to bleed a great deal more.

Zayne used his other hand to remove yours before pulling your shirt up. The gauze surrounding your abdomen was drenched in blood. He slowly withdrew it as you writhed in pain and embarrassment.

"Try to sit still for a bit, will you?"

Zayne's soothing voice burst out, calming you down a lot. You sat on the table, your hands lifting your body up while you looked down at the doctor who was treating your wound. The fact that you had to display your skin beneath his gaze made you uneasy and desire to cover your face. But Zayne was quite professional. He remained silent and entirely concentrated on his work. He cleansed the wound and applied a new layer of gauze. His warm breath occasionally wafted against your skin, causing you to tremble slightly. Even when his frigid fingers touched you, it seemed like you were being scorched.

"It's done."

Zayne said after fixing the new layer of gauze. You were a little discontent when his fingers left you. You were ready to pull your top back down when Zayne lightly rubbed his fingers against your abdomen.

“Ouch!” Even though the place he touched was not wounded, you were still startled and embarrassed.

“Just checking it again.” Zayne elaborated. He had you sitting on the table, your bandaged abdomen at his eye level. You could feel his stare through the gauze, pausing a bit too long in areas that were not covered by anything.

“Doctor Zayne… Are you done now?”

You attempted to keep your speech cool, but your crimson cheeks could have given you away. Zayne appeared to flash a little smile. You felt the icy sensation of his fingertip on your skin again as he slid it beneath the hem of your shirt, then pulled it back down.

"I am now." He answered while returning the supplies to the first aid kit. "Don't be so reckless next time. You have to care for yourself first before you can save others.”

"Hold on." You stopped him. You altered your position and stared into his eyes. "You always say so, but can you actually do what you say?"

Zayne tilted his head to look at you. You took advantage of the moment and raised his chin to have a better look. He had a minor cut on his forehead, and the blood on his body was most likely someone else's.

"You rushed here to take care of me, while you, yourself, are in this condition."

You spoke. His hand found your wrist.

"I barely got a few scrapes. Not as concerning as someone who rushed into the battlefield with a bleeding stomach."

"Whether the wound is big or small, it can be critical." You stated precisely what Dr. Zayne told you whenever he saw you injured, even if it was only a little cut.

Realizing that he had just tasted his own medicine, Zayne let out a small laugh. Then he tugged your hand, causing you to almost lean towards him. He gazed into your eyes for quite a while.

"So, my doctor, will you treat me?"

You blushed again. Zayne relinquished his hand, allowing you to properly wipe the blood off his face. You had to confess that you were a little awkward, owing to your unexpected closeness to Zayne in such a private and calm setting. He probably could hear your heart racing. He supported your hand which was holding a sterilized cotton pad and said:

"If you want to become a skilled doctor, in situations like this you must be even calmer."

"I'm not as professional as Dr. Zayne." You answered with a little caustic tone. "You were able to treat my wound so calmly just now."

Zayne gazed at you for an instant. His face remained calm, but his eyes were not.

"I'm a skilled doctor. Yet, it doesn’t imply that I wouldn't feel anything while treating the girl I like in such a... condition."

3K notes · View notes