#l&ds zayne x reader

[strwberri-milk]

Oooh could you give reactions of the LaDS guys when MC rescues them?? I can imagine their stunned faces followed by intense worry for MC

Zayne didn't think that disaster would strike the hospital but here he is using his Evol to try and help patients and their families escape. Anybody who had an offensive Evol was part of this shoddily thrown together front lines, desperately trying to buy time until the authorities arrived.

He thinks he's about to be closed in as the roof comes down, doing his best to try and lessen the damage when he sees you come to the rescue. Somehow you manage to push him out of the way, rolling the two of you to safety as you get up to continue your path. He immediately grabs you by the wrist, wordlessly asking if you're okay. You offer him a quick nod before running off to continue, both of you understanding that time is of the essence.

When he finds you again later he's giving you a full physical, wanting to make sure that you're okay despite the accident. He can only rest once you're safe, holding you close.

If you sustained a life threatening injury he's there the entire time. He's making sure that you're okay, monitoring your progress as much as the doctors will allow him to. They don't want him getting in the way, knowing that he's especially emotional because it's you despite never having seen him like this before. He knows he shouldn't be interfering but honestly, he can't help it. He's worried and he's going to blame himself for the rest of his life if you don't get better.

Xavier lost his mind when he lost sight of you, trying his best to fight while also looking for you everywhere. When he finally sees you after you took out a Wanderer he pulls you into his chest, hugging you tightly as he asks you if you're alright. He does his best to appraise your current condition, doing whatever he can to mitigate any pain you feel and trying to convince you to rest before things get worse.

The attack doesn't seem to be letting up at all and you know that the two of you have to split up to continue no matter how much he hates it. He decides fuck the orders and follows you anyway, knowing that he won't be able to focus if you're not there with him.

He hears the Wanderer too late - turning around and drawing his sword half a second later than he should when he hears your guns going off. The Wanderer immediately turns to you, giving him an opening to strike back. It's faster than either of you thought it was, the scream he hears from you shutting him down.

He's glad you saved him but not at the cost of your life and he wastes the creature, knowing his body will suffer the consequences from how powerful his attack was but that doesn't matter if it means it saved you. He immediately takes you to get help, refusing to leave your side until you're actually 100%. He promised himself he'd protect you and he's going to be even more protective of you from now on.

Rafayel didn't think that his studio would be ambushed like this but he was more than capable of handling it - or so he thought. He was close to burning down his whole studio if he needed to in order to escape the assailants, surprised when they suddenly start collapsing without him doing anything.

When you emerge with your weapon drawn he's happy to see you but immediately worries about how you got through the other people they said they brought with them. You were able to take them down thankfully but he's not convinced you're alright, securing his studio with you to ensure that the two of you have nothing else to worry about.

If you sustain a life threatening injury he's immediately calling for help but also takes care of you right then and there. He doesn't want to lose any time to waiting for medical staff to arrive or your fellow hunters - he knows how to take care of you and his fire Evol is thankfully good at cauterising wounds despite how awful he feels about you trying to be brave as he burns your skin. The scars that linger upset him deeply because to him, they represent a time he failed you but in spite of them he doesn't let it drag him down. He knows it'd just make you more upset to know that's how he feels so he just focuses on making sure his skills stay sharp enough to protect you.

Sylus doesn't normally get attacked when he goes out on a job but this was a first. He was a little underprepared, thinking he'd have a quiet evening but the fight wasn't too rough, thankfully. He turns, preparing to leave without realising that there was another figure hidden in the shadows, ready to strike him down when he hears someone fall behind him. You stand over their unconscious body, a little worse for wear but nothing some TLC couldn't solve.

Sylus insists on taking you home, knowing that while you look fine there was always a slight chance that something was being overlooked and he did not want to be negligent in your care. He doesn't like the fact that you got attacked most likely because of your association with him, telling you that you need to be more careful to avoid things like that happening.

When you do get attacked because of your connection with him he has no reservations killing the person who had the audacity to hurt you. He takes you back home, patching you up and making sure you're okay in the comfort of his house. You have round the clock care and you think that Sylus isn't too shaken about your near death experience until you realise his sleep is even lighter one night. He can't sleep properly and probably won't for a while. He'll always be even more alert, constantly having either Mephisto or himself on your trail to ensure that nothing like that happens again.

[connorsui]

In the Quiet Afterhours

Zayne x reader

Synopsis: In the quiet of afterhours, you and zayne find solace in the intimacy of simple acts of care, your love unspoken yet deeply felt through the tenderness of shared moments.

Genre/warnings: pure fluff, silence of intimacy, zayne wanting to drown himself in your warmth, you are the light in this manz life, no warnings tho …zayne has suffered enough

note: I just wanna take care of him...like plz let me give my man his needed care..

w.: 1,180

There was, perhaps, no greater feeling than the quietude of love that existed in those moments where words fell away, leaving only the hum of companionship to bind two souls together. Zayne had always been a man of few words—practical in his pursuits, level-headed in his judgments, and ever the picture of self-possession. Yet, beneath that stern exterior, there was a tenderness reserved solely for you, a tenderness that revealed itself not in grand gestures or fervent declarations, but in the subtleties of shared moments, and the warmth of a gaze lingering far longer than propriety might allow.

This evening was no different, save for the weariness etched into his fine features, the faint shadows under his hazel-green eyes telling the tale of a long day spent in service to duty. He returned home as he always did—quietly, with little fanfare, his shoulders still squared despite the obvious weight that pressed upon him. And yet, when his eyes found yours, there was a softening in his expression, the firm lines of his brow relaxing as though the sight of you alone was enough to ease the burdens he carried.

"Welcome home," you murmured, the warmth of your voice drawing him nearer.

"Hello, love"

Zayne, ever pragmatic, offered a small nod, but it was the way his hand rose to brush a stray lock of hair from your cheek that spoke volumes more than any pleasantry could. There was an intimacy in that touch, in the way his fingers lingered against your skin as though reluctant to part, as though you alone were the balm to his tired soul.

He said little as you coaxed him toward the shower, his resistance nonexistent, for he had learned, in these quiet moments, to let you care for him. It was a remarkable thing, this unspoken understanding between you—a partnership built on the most delicate threads of love, trust, and respect. You, in turn, had come to know that behind Zayne’s pragmatic exterior was a man who cherished the simplicity of your presence, a man who allowed himself to be vulnerable only when the world outside had no claim on him.

The warm cascade of water was a gentle relief, steam curling in the air as you worked the soap into your hands, your fingers gliding over his tense shoulders. The muscles beneath your touch, though firm, betrayed a quiet exhaustion, and as you began to wash him, you could feel the faint tremor of relief in his body, the tension slowly unraveling.

He closed his eyes, his lips parting in a near inaudible sigh, and for a moment, he was not the stoic officer, nor the pragmatic strategist. He was simply Zayne, a man who found comfort in your touch, in the way your hands moved with careful precision over his skin, tracing the curves and lines that you had come to know so intimately.

In another’s eyes, this scene might have seemed mundane, but there was an indescribable beauty in the familiarity of it all—a beauty that lay not in grandiose acts of affection but in the quiet devotion with which you attended to one another. It was a love that needed no embellishment, no flowery language to justify its existence, for it was rooted in something far more profound.

When your hands drifted lower, the soap lathering between your fingers, Zayne’s eyes fluttered open, and there it was again—that look of quiet reverence that always seemed to accompany his gaze when it fell upon you. It was not the gaze of a man merely admiring your physical form, but the gaze of a man rediscovering you anew each time, as though the sight of you was enough to set his soul alight in ways words could never adequately express.

He said nothing, but the faintest upward curve of his lips betrayed him. “Spoiling me again?” he murmured, his voice low, teasing in a way that would have seemed foreign to anyone but you.

“And why shouldn’t I?” you replied softly, smiling as your hands worked the soap along the lines of his body. “You work so hard... At least let me take care of you.”

There was a moment, brief yet timeless, where Zayne’s eyes softened even further, the weight of his exhaustion giving way to something deeper, something far more tender. It was in these moments that you truly understood the depth of his affections. He would never speak them outright, for it was not his nature to indulge in the overt declarations that many sought in love. Yet, in the way he stood before you, allowing you to see him in his most vulnerable state, you knew. You knew that his heart, so often guarded, was entirely yours.

When it came time to wash his hair, Zayne bent forward with practiced ease, his dark hair falling over his brow as you lathered the shampoo into his scalp. You laughed, as you always did, at the way his hair fluffed beneath the suds, your amusement drawing a faint smile from him.

“You look cute like this,” you teased, the lightness in your voice a welcome contrast to the quiet of the room.

He glanced up at you, one eyebrow raised in mock indignation. “cute?...another word for you to describe me...” he echoed, his voice dry, though the glint in his hazel eyes betrayed his amusement. “If you could see how I invision you, the roles would be reversed"

Yet he made no protest, content to let you have your moment of playful teasing. For all his stoicism, Zayne had always had a soft spot for the way your laughter lit up the room, and though he would never admit it aloud, he found your teasing far more endearing than he let on.

When the roles reversed, and it was Zayne’s hands that worked the soap into your hair, he was as gentle as ever. His fingers moved with a precision that was unmistakably him, careful to ensure no soap slipped into your eyes. “I know you say I deserved to be spoiled but allow me to give that in return, ten times fold ” he murmured, his voice a quiet caress, his touch so tender it felt as though you might melt beneath it.

You didn't argue.

Once the water had washed away the last traces of soap, he reached for a towel, and in the same unhurried manner, began to dry you off with the utmost care, as though each motion was imbued with the love he so rarely spoke of. It was in these moments, in the quiet spaces between words, that you truly understood the depth of Zayne’s love for you—a love that, like the stars themselves, was constant, enduring, and far more profound than words could ever convey.

Even after the task was complete, he lingered, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close in an embrace that spoke of more than just comfort. It was connection, the unspoken promise that even in silence, his heart was yours.

His breath, soft against your neck, mingled with the warmth of your skin, and there, in the quiet afterhours of the day, there was no need for words.

Just the two of you alone.

Gimmie a tired zayne I would take care of him

[odoraful]

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄.ᐟ (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭)

zayne is known for enjoying desserts, but there’s a sweet he hasn’t tried yet that he’s been craving.

⟡ content: zayne x gn!reader; early stage of the established relationship; first kiss; very sweet (both literally and figuratively); reader being flustered and zayne being bold; you basically live in zayne's mind 24/7; sfw; 1.6k

⟡ a/n: i was listening to day 6's song chocolate and inspiration struck me (>\\<) like "i often imagine when i kiss you, i'm curious about how it would feel... i can't control my heart, i think there's another me inside me" WAAH i thought it was fitting for zayne!

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It wasn’t typical of Zayne to be indulgent. Everything was done with careful moderation and consideration, from purchasing clothing to committing to exercise. However, when it came to desserts, all the rules he set up were scrubbed from his memory. No one suspected that the cardiac surgeon had such a strong sweet tooth. That was until his co-workers saw him at the bakery near the hospital one day, contemplating seriously about which new flavour of cake to get. To everyone’s surprise, he had ended up buying a slice of each one.

Anything sweet had a way of bypassing his self-control, which, naturally, meant you as well.

Taking a moment to himself in his office between appointments, Zayne reached for the cellophane bag of cookies sitting by his computer. The red string around the bag also held a tag with careful handwriting. It read:

Roses are red, jasmines are white, I made these with love, I hope you’ll take a bite.

Beneath the message was a cutely drawn face of you winking. Even though he had read this about 20 times since you dropped it off to him before you went to work, he still breathed a small laugh and shook his head. He unravelled the string, putting the tag safely in his pocket. The cookies inside were shaped like snowflakes and frosted blue and and white. He admired the design for a moment before taking a bite.

Imagining you preparing this made him smile. You had probably woken up earlier than usual to bake them fresh, putting on your apron with a determined look on your face. Each ingredient would be carefully measured, and as much as you would want eat the raw dough, his voice of caution would pop into your head about the dangers of uncooked eggs and flour. Once they were baking, you would finish by making the icing, dying it blue. He could imagine how you’d dip your finger into the bowl, bringing the mixture to your mouth. The blue would be a contrast against your rosy lips as you licked them to savour the taste.

That image of you stayed in Zayne’s head for longer than he intended.

He finished off a second cookie. It had a satisfying texture, the icing sugary and smooth.

Would your lips taste as sweet as this?

The thought came so naturally that he didn’t think anything unusual of its presence. There would probably still be some icing left on your lips, and he would simply lean in to—

Zayne cleared his throat.

The sound broke the silence of his office and banished the trespassing thought.

Only two weeks into this relationship, and he was fantasising like a high school boy at his work. You always had been a permanent fixture in his thoughts, but now it all felt so real. He no longer thought of you as his partner in hypotheticals. Being able to kiss you, and taste the sweetness on your lips wasn’t a dream anymore. Now, the real concern was the appropriate when and where.

He tied the bag closed, saving the rest to bring home. His break was over, and he had to continue on with work. Though he had finished his dessert long ago, the taste of vanilla icing lingered on his tongue for the rest of the day.

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”Earth to Zayne~ can you hear me?”

Zayne turned to you. Your head was titled to the side, an expectant look on your face.

Though it was a weekend morning, both of you were on the sofa completing the remaining piece of your respective work—him finishing his recommendations for a patient, and you filling out a case report for your recent hunter excursion.

“Yes, I can hear you,” he replied, matter-of-factly.

You narrowed your eyes in playful suspicion. “Hm, and what about the past two times I called you?”

Zayne adjusted his glasses. “I must have been focused on my report.”

His reason would have been convincing enough, if not for your keen senses. Despite his unchanging expression, you weren’t mistaken seeing the tips of his ears turn red.

You sorted your documents back into the folder, and placed it to the side.

“You stopped typing on your laptop and sort of stared into your screen for a minute. It was very un-Zayne like I must say,” you remarked as a half-joke.

Seeing just how observant you were towards him filled him with inexplicable pride.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, tone softening.

He paused for a moment, considering his next words. Closing the window to his document and shutting his laptop, he gave his full attention to you.

“Actually, something has been on my mind.”

With a concerned frown, you crossed your legs together, sitting in a more comfortable position to listen to him. Though, you could have never predicted what your boyfriend would say next.

”I was thinking about moving our relationship to the next stage.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks. Stuttered sounds came out of your mouth. When you realised you could form no words, you covered your face with your hands. What could he possibly mean by that!? Suddenly, you felt quite conscious about where you were seated. If Zayne reached out to his left, he could easily wrap his arm around your waist. And, you knew the purple loungewear you had on wasn’t the most alluring clothing you had.

“The next stage?” you repeated in a much higher pitch than you intended.

He nodded, giving no apparent indication that he noticed the fluster you were in. He seemed too calm. Perhaps you were drawing the wrong conclusion too quickly.

“If it’s alright with you, I”—Zayne stopped his sentence short. “Could you… close your eyes for me?”

You blinked at him.

“Ohh,” you sounded with understanding, “is this some kind of surprise? Are you giving me a present?”

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “One might call it that.”

Even though his reply to your question was quite ambiguous, you happily closed your eyes. You heard a small sound to the side, guessing that he had placed something on the table. Of course, it was natural for couples to give gifts that signified the seriousness of the relationship. Maybe he bought some jewellery or a precious keepsake, you innocently pondered.

Zayne took a last look at your awaiting face. Eyes closed, lips glossy from the balm you just applied.

The sofa shifted. The weight of his body dipped the cushion beneath you. His close presence made your senses prickle. The jasmine and mint scent of his cologne now enveloped you.

When is he going to let me open my eyes?

“Zayne.”

You breathed out his name before you felt warmth against your lips.

Your eyes shot open.

Zayne had taken off his glasses (which you now realised was what that previous sound had been) and he was kissing you. Kissing you for the very first time.

Your brain and body were at odds with each other.

Your muscles froze, but you also didn’t want to pull away. Not when he initiated something you had spent so long daydreaming about, but never had the courage to do. Noticing this, Zayne raised his hand to your face. His thumb gently caressed your cheek. A silent signal that communicated a message of reassurance. It’s alright, you can relax, you seemed to hear his smooth voice in your head. Tension melted away. In exchange, your heartrate picked up. Closing your eyes once again, you let the sensation wash over you.

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Time seemed to stand still and move too fast all at once.

Zayne slid his hand down to rest at the base of your neck. Your skin felt hot against his cool fingertips.

Admittedly, he was out of practice, and the worry of doing this wrong flashed in his mind. But, when you eased into his touch, lips parting to invite more of him in, everything fell into place.

Vanilla frosting… I was right, he thought.

You were sweeter than any dessert he had tried in his life. One taste would not be enough after this. You had become a dangerous craving to him now.

Zayne withdrew, staying close to your face. Your eyes fluttered open, blinking slowly as if waking from a stupor. You were greeted with his green and amber gaze, his clear satisfaction illuminated by the morning sun pouring through the curtains behind you. Before you was a version of him you had never seen.

“Y-you’re too bold, Zayne,” you murmured.

The breath you had held during the kiss caught up to you. Your exhales lightly brushed against his skin as he stared at your lips—flushed like the colour of raspberry sorbet. He scanned every part of your expression, desperately needing to memorise your face in this moment. Everything about you was utterly perfect.

“I’m sorry for catching you off guard.”

You shook your head, the bangs of his hair brushing against your forehead. Only Zayne could blindside you with such a storybook kiss, and then apologise for it.

“You occupy my thoughts all the time,” he continued, a rasp in his voice as he whispered. “It’s unfathomable and quite distracting.”

You chuckled, the sound melodious to his ears. “I didn’t know a chief surgeon could be so easily distracted.”

Zayne smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mirth.

“When the surgeon has someone he likes a lot,” he closed the distance, leaning his forehead against yours, “he often wonders how sweet they would taste.”

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[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS Zayne: Dirty Shave | 18+

This fic took me a solid week and a half to write. It was so much fun though. This is dedicated to my little meow meow because I'm waiting patiently for him to finish writing an Omega Zayne fic. Based off Hidden Motive however I started writing this before the card released so really it's just MC shaving his face and then fucking him. It doesn't follow the plot of the card so you can read it without needing to see the original.

For an easier time reading this, I put it on AO3 as well! I prefer reading long fics on there in case tumblr refreshes while I'm trying to finish.

♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Pairings: Zayne x Reader ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Warnings: Overstimulation, Showers, Unsafe Sex, Creampie, Riding, Facial Shaving, Caught having sex on the phone, Teasing, Jealous Reader, AFAB Reader, Gender Neutral Reader, Penis in Vagina Sex, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Top Reader ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Synopsis: You and Zayne were just relaxing in the shower together when you felt the stubble on his face. An innocent request to shave his face results in you sitting on his lap, teasing him until he's desperate and needy. ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Word Count: 15k

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Zayne

Dirty Shave

The music seemed to gently caress your ears as you swayed to the beat, enjoying the acoustics that the shower so willingly provided. It bounced wonderfully off the walls of the shower at the resort you had found yourself in with your beloved Zayne.

The man whom you held in such high regard was currently rinsing out shampoo from his hair, his back turned to you as you hummed the melody and watched. The water dripped off those raven locks and you couldn’t help yourself as you leaned up against his back, relaxing into him. Zayne stopped for a moment, turning his head to look down at you.

“Having fun?” His voice echoed out in the warm shower and you let out another content hum as you looked up at him. You had no idea how, but under the lights in the bathroom he looked even more breathtaking than usual.

“Yup, just enjoying this. Think we can renovate the shower at your place to be this big?” you asked and looked up. The shower had a wonderful waterfall feature, meaning both of you were under the spray of the showerhead and weren’t left in the cold. It was one of the few reasons you two didn’t often shower together in the mornings. You two had certainly tried, but Zayne always felt guilty when it was his turn under the sprayer and you were left almost shivering. You honestly had never minded since it was the perfect time to admire his form outside of sexual contexts.

“I can certainly look into it once we’re back,” he said, turning around so he was facing you properly. You shouldn’t have been surprised with how easily he accepted that, he had always been one to go with your whims. If you asked him for something he would make it happen within a few weeks normally. Renovating an entire room in his house? Of course he’d readily agree if it meant he could hold you in his arms like this. That and you could see he was clearly enjoying the feature judging by how this was the third time you’d showered together since you guys had come to this town for his medical convention.

“Come here,” his hand reached for your hip, pulling you closer. You felt your heart speed up for a second at the proximity before your eyes followed his hands. After you were closer he trailed his hands upwards with a gentle glide on your body that had a small shiver wrack down your spine. He reached over and got some shampoo and put a generous dollop into his hands. He then was running those large hands in your hair, scrubbing away anything that might’ve been in there.

His hands worked deftly as he massaged your scalp, applying the right pressure right where you needed it. You were absolutely melting into his grasp, closing your eyes and just letting him do whatever he wanted. His hands always felt amazing and now was certainly no exception to the rule. You swore if he kept this up then you’d find yourself falling asleep standing in the shower. Zayne smiled to himself as he saw how your head leaned into his touch out of habit; you always leaned into his touch like a small kitten the moment you had become more comfortable around him.

He then went and dipped your head back, letting the suds of the soap run down into the drain as he worked his hands a little more, tangled in your locks and then the base of your scalp. He was working you thoroughly and you let out a small, happy moan at the attention. Your hands reached up to gently hold onto his forearms, fingers gently tracing over a few of the scars.

You could hear him chuckling as he then leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You finally opened your eyes, staring into his hazel ones that always seemed to drink you in. The way he looked at you sometimes made your heart stop, the absolute love and affection was more than you could ever hope to find in a partner. You were certain that the look you gave him was similar since you were utterly in love with the man and everything he did.

No words were spoken as he worked the conditioner through your hair in a similar way, instead you just placed your hands on his chest and leaned closer to him. As he rinsed you off for a second time he tilted your chin up for a kick, chaste kiss. You giggled against his lips, leaning forward to capture his mouth again and savoring the feeling of him. He took good care of himself thankfully, and his body was the physical embodiment of that. You couldn’t help but drag your fingers over his chest, feeling how the muscles tensed slightly from the sudden contact. Even his lips were soft and plush against your own as you tilted your head, deepening the kiss for just a moment longer.

“Something I can do for you?” You murmured against his lips as he placed his hands on your hips. You felt him swaying you to the beat of the music that still echoed in the shower. The moment was sweet and serene and you briefly wondered when you could have this every day. Your hands reached up to wrap around his shoulders as you allowed him to move you however he wished.

His forehead pressed against your own and he closed his eyes, “Just stay here with me, it’s all I need,” you felt yourself blushing at his words, but you wouldn’t deny him. Just as he could hardly say no to you, you were also whipped. He said the word and you’d come crawling to him and doing whatever it was he asked of you.

“I think I can handle that,” you smiled, your eyes also closing. For just a moment it was the two of you in your own little world, swaying to music with the gentle fall of water surrounding you. You smiled at the scene you two were surly creating, wondering which book you read that had this exact moment. The man you called your boyfriend, hopefully one day husband, was one of the most romantic men you had ever met.

Most people would never assume that the Dr. Li could be the romantic type, but moments like these always proved the world wrong. The way he held you like you would slip from his fingers if he so much as let up his grip made you feel so damn secure.

You reached up to cup his cheek, intent on bringing him down for another sweet kiss before you two left the shower. Then you felt it. The slight prickly feeling of stubble on Zayne’s face. The man was meticulous about shaving his face, and thankfully it didn’t grow very fast. He’d normally shave every other night to clean up anything that had attempted to grow, and it appeared that tonight was one such night.

The thought occurred to you in just a second as you opened your eyes. You watched as Zayne was leaning into your touch and it reminded you of a sweet and cuddly cat. You then cleared your throat and got his attention, those soft eyes peering down at you.

“Zayne…you have stubble,” you started and Zayne raised an eyebrow in question. He took the hand that was cupping his face and turned his head, kissing the palm of your hand as he spoke.

“I am a man,” he reminded you, “It’s only normal that I have stubble at the end of the day,” he pressed another kiss to your palm before letting your hand drop. You placed it on his chest and looked up at him. Despite how it had grown, it was barely noticeable unless you looked closely. You guessed in a sense Zayne was lucky in that regard since he seemed to dislike the hair anyway.

“Can I shave your face tonight?” you asked, wanting to reach up and touch his face again. Your fingers twitched against his chest as you looked up at him curiously. 

Zayne’s eyebrows furrowed as he seemed to think over the idea. Probably debating if it would be a good idea or not. He cleared his throat, “I don’t think that’s necessary, I’m capable of doing it myself,” he said and you frowned at his response.

“Just because you can do it yourself doesn’t mean you have to,” You reminded him, “I can wash my own hair, but it’s way more enjoyable when you do it,” besides you really wanted to try it not, being able to move his face around without any complaints from him seemed intriguing.

Zayne nodded, “That’s true, but the situation is a bit…different,” he began and you clearly weren’t entertained by his excuses, “Razors are sharp and dangerous. If you don’t know how to use it correctly it can lead to cuts which can later evolve into possible infection,” it was almost like he forgot you were a hunter and knew all the dangers of untreated cuts, as well as how sharp objects could actually harm someone if you weren’t careful.

“I know how to use a razor, Zayne,” you huffed, “I’ve shaved my legs before, you know,” you reasoned with him, now batting your eyelashes.

“Using a safety razor and using a straight razor are very different,” he attempted once more to reason with you, but alas it was going nowhere. You had an idea in your mind and you wanted to follow through with it. You knew it would only be a matter of time before he gave in…besides you weren’t totally clueless on how to use a straight razor. 

You had seen it lying around in his bathroom, watched him shave his face, and once upon a time was really bored and decided to shave a single arm with it to see how it was done. You hadn’t even cut yourself when you did it. It wasn’t even that hard to use since the blade was so sharp; you were confident you could shave his face without nicking him.

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” he said and you could see it, you could physically see his resolve melting under your gaze. You decided to finish him by sticking out your lip into a small pout and that was really all it took. He sighed, shaking his head and looking down at you.

“Alright, fine…” he began, “but only the sides and chin. I’ll handle the detail work,” he said and honestly that was fine by you. The thought of shaving his upper lip was perhaps out of your comfort zone. If you cut his perfect lips you’d probably cry for a week. Not to mention if you saw him flinching whenever you kissed him you might as well dig your own grave and toss yourself in.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, giggling, “Thank you, babe,” you coo as you swayed a little with him. He sighed, shaking his head as he reached behind him to turn off the shower. The stream of water died down as soon as he did so and the steam from how hot you had kept the water managed to keep you warm for the time being.

“I’m happy you seem so excited, but first we need to get out of the shower,” he reminded you with a gentle smile directed at you. He began walking you backwards and out of the shower, one hand never leaving your hip as you went along with him. It was clear you had no intention of leaving his embrace anytime soon; his arms were your safe space at the end of the day.

In response to your clinginess you felt Zayne’s hands cupping under your thighs. Your grip around him tightened as he lifted you with ease, walking you over to the towels and grabbing a few of the fluffy white ones the resort had. He worked one of them around your body then sat you down on the counter. You watched with interest as he then grabbed one and loosely wrapped it around his own waist, his eyes glancing up at your obvious staring.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked as he grabbed another white towel from nearby and brought it over to you. You were about to say a smartass comment when the towel was thrown over your face. You let out a small, unamused noise as he worked the towel over your hair, soaking up a bulk of the water from your shower.

When he moved the towel off to reveal your face he leaned in, cupping your cheek and dragging you in for a proper kiss. Despite how much you wanted to get back at him you found yourself melting against him, closing your eyes and enjoying how he led the kiss.

His hands weaved through your hair, his tongue gently prodding at your mouth and you easily opened up, allowing his tongue to press against your own before it began exploring. You moaned at the taste of him, the subtle taste of chocolate macaroons lingered on him from your dessert after dinner and it made him only more decadent than normal. Your hands gripping his shoulders as you let out a gentle moan into his mouth. You didn’t know when he got so good at kissing you; you still recalled your first kiss and how uncertain he had been. Now he dove in and took your breath away every single time, lips pressing against your own perfectly with that tongue that knew exactly how to get you worked up.

You were disappointed when he finally let off, leaning back with his thumb swiping your lower lip to clean off the small trail of saliva. Your heart was thrumming in your chest as you frowned for a moment, “Why’d you stop?” you didn’t mean for it to come out almost whiny, but it did get a smirk out of Zayne. You were about five seconds from grabbing the back of his head and dragging him back down to continue making out with you when he decided to speak up.

“Shaving should be done right after a shower,” he stated simply, “Unless you wanted to skip that over,” the way he leaned against you, pressing himself against your thigh had you swallowing the lump in your throat. You could feel his cock pressed against you, only slightly hard which was unsurprising judging by how he always seemed to pop a boner the moment tongue was involved. So that was his angle, trying to distract you so you’d drop your quest in shaving his face.

Too bad you weren’t a complete dumbass.

Instead of replying you just grabbed one of the many towels he brought over and tossed one around his neck and used it to pull him down. He let out a small surprised gasp as he quickly grabbed the edge of the counter on either side of your thighs. You took the towel and put it over his head and began drying his hair with a hum.

“You’re so right, Dr. Li, we should probably hurry up here so we can make sure your face is nice and smooth for your conferences tomorrow morning,” you said and watched the small glimmer of mischief in his eyes dim a little bit as he realized his plan was failing horribly. You held back the smirk that threatened to give away that you had caught him red handed.

You two work together toweling off and making yourself relatively dry. You chuckle as Zayne once again picks you up and places you down on the ground. It felt like ice with how cold the tile was on your bare feet and you noticed how amused Zayne was at your small flinch. You shot a small frown his way to let him know how unamused you were at this. If he had just kept holding you then you’d be content, but apparently that wasn’t an option at this time.

He grabbed the silk robes the resort provided and handed you the smaller size, helping you wrap it around your body and tie the knot in the front. You were very entertained with how he seemed to secure yours so well, covering everything you had as though he had never seen you naked in his life. You then watched as he put his own on and noticed how it was so loose around him. The chest was wide open on it, it barely covered his nipples. He was trying to be enticing whether he knew it or not.

He rummaged around the bathroom and grabbed a few things you’d need for shaving his face, “That’s not as much as I was expecting,” you comment as you see the shaving cream, razor, a bowl of water, and aftershave in his hands. Not to mention two small hand towels that he had draped over his forearm.

“I normally need less than this, however I assume it would be more comfortable for you to shave my face on the couch rather than balancing on the counter,” he said, his tone was calm and neutral, but you could tell he was teasing you about your height. It wasn’t your fault that the man decided to be born overly tall and broad. Besides, at least with your height you had the perfect vantage point to squishing your head in his chest anytime you hugged him.

“Well then come on, mister,” you said and grabbed some of the things from his hands, but noticed how he kept the straight razor. You two made your way to the large living space and you looked around. The couch had a perfect side table where you could set down all your supplies and still be able to reach them whenever you needed to.

“How’d you like to do this?” Zayne had leaned down so his breath ghosted right over your ear. An involuntary shiver went down your spine as your head whipped back at him. Zayne had his normal lack of expression on his face and if you didn’t know him so well you’d think he was innocent. Still you had learned to look in his eyes since they always told exactly what he was thinking. He definitely knew what he was doing, from kissing you in the bathroom to how he wore his robe, and even now. He was seducing you right now and it was working, but probably not in the way he was hoping.

“Sit on the couch, Dr. Li,” you instructed him, motioning with your head where you wanted him to sit. Zayne did as instructed, adjusting himself on the couch as he looked up at you. His eyes were now sharp as he took in your every movement and it was almost nerve wracking as you set the supplies down on the table next to him. Still you were schooling your expression and pretending you hadn’t noticed what he was doing, acting as though you weren’t currently turned on from his antics. As long as you kept your cool he would assume his hints didn’t work and it would be easier to tease him later on.

“It won’t be good for your back if you bend down for this,” Zayne commented as he realized the current angle you were at. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips and you had to force it down, wanting to seem like you held all the authority at the moment.

“And how do you suggest I do this then?” you begin, your voice almost a purr, “If I’m not mistaken I’m the one in charge here, aren’t I?” you could see the shift in his demeanor at that exact moment. How his posture seemed to straighten up a little and he looked at you with a small challenge in his eyes. He was normally submissive for you, a perfect boy, but that was only after all the teasing was over. You had to work to get him into that state, and honestly you adored every second of it.

“What are you then?” he asked, “The Chief Surgeon?” oh so that’s how he wanted to play it for the evening? If so, you’d happily indulge him as you tilted your head and smirked. You did notice how he deliberately didn’t give you a solution though, but in the back of your mind you had a feeling you knew what he wanted to suggest.

“That’s correct, and tonight you’re my dear patient,” you went to cup his chin and forced his head up to look at you, “And the operation will begin very shortly. I’ll need to begin preparations and I would very much like it if my patient was compliant during this part.” you watched how he squirmed at your words.

It was teasing, sure, but you knew deep down he loved this way more than he was willing to admit. He thought he had been coy about it in the past, but it was clear as day he had a thing for medical roleplay. What amused you was the fact that he really preferred it when you were the one in charge and he was just a bystander. It was honestly cute how willingly he gave away his power and let you do whatever you wanted to him.

“Of course, I’d be an idiot to not follow a Dr’s orders,” oh that was a jab and you knew it. Especially with how your smirk fell into a frown at the same time Zayne’s own lips twitched in a knowing look. You huffed as you grabbed hold of the shaving cream and got some on your hands then wet them in the bowl of water he had grabbed. As you worked it into a lather in your own hands you turned to your ‘patient’. You were now standing between his legs as you peered down at the man.

“Tilt your head back a little bit,” you said, watching as he did just as you asked without any smart remarks. Your hands went to cup his cheeks, working the lather into his skin. Your hands massaging his cheeks and just enjoying the fact that you got to touch him all over his face for once without him complaining.

Your thumb swiped right underneath his bottom lip as you looked between his mouth to his eyes. He seemed to almost be waiting for you to give in and kiss him, but you held back. There was too much shaving cream at the moment and you were fairly certain it would taste horrible. Instead you opted to grab hold of the towel next to you and began wiping your hands off.

Once they were clean you grabbed hold of the straight razor. You could feel Zayne tense from your stance between his legs; it was adorable how he both trusted you to do this, but was also terrified of you having such a sharp object close to his neck. You did see what he was talking about earlier with the angle not being the best, and you decided to quickly fix the situation at hand.

You used your knees to make Zayne put his legs together and then threw one of your own over his waist. You adjusted yourself on his lap, making sure to be more centered on his thighs rather than his crotch. You didn’t want to reward his bad behavior of teasing you by sitting directly on it, and from this angle you’d be able to see the effect you had on him.

“So this is your solution?” he finally said as you adjusted the razor once more in your hand, opening it up to reveal the glint of the sharp blade in the light. His eyes went between your position on his lap then over to the dangerous object in your hands.

You looked at him with a questioning gaze, “Are you going to lie and tell me this isn’t what you had in mind when you commented about how this wouldn’t be good for my back if I had to bend?” your voice was almost mocking and he looked at you with narrowed eyes. “If I’m not mistaken, you never pass up an opportunity to have me using you as a chair,” the innuendo was there, but you wondered if he’d even notice with how his eyes were transfixed on the razor you held.

“I was thinking you could come behind the couch and lay my head back, or perhaps pull up a chair,” he said calmly and you rolled your eyes. The way his eyes shifted slightly was the only indicator you needed to tell he was lying. After knowing him for so long you knew his tells; generally you didn’t press him about these things, but in situations like this you didn’t mind calling him out.

“I’m sure you were thinking that, weren’t you?” you said, tone still mocking, “However I am the Chief Surgeon, Mr. Li. You have to understand that my methods might be unorthodox, however they yield good results,” you mentally gave yourself a pat on the back for being able to say that without needing to stutter or think over your wording. All those hours of watching horrible medical dramas were finally paying off it would seem.

“I’m just surprised you haven’t received any malpractice suits for how you treat your patients,” he said as you finally grabbed hold of his chin. You moved his face to the side to get a good angle and looked at him with an entertained gaze.

“I have very good lawyers, sir,” you began and slowly brought the razor up to his face, “Now for this part I need you to be absolutely still, and no smart remarks,” it was clear he wanted to say something more, but he was tense under you as the razor finally met his skin.

It was a simple swipe, getting the small bit of stubble off as well as a lump of the shaving cream. The towel you had previously used for your hand was now resting on his shoulder for you to wipe the razor clean on. You used one hand to stretch the skin and did another swipe, following by a third in quick succession. Being a hunter did mean you had to have a lot of skills with weapons, and in your mind you were thinking of the razor like you would a dagger, applying just the right amount of pressure to get rid of the hair without cutting into someone.

You wiped the razor clean again and smirked, running your thumb over the now shaved part of his cheek, “There we go, so far so good,” you cooed, looking at Zayne. He seemed to have relaxed a lot after the first swipe, realizing that you weren’t about to filet his face with the razor.

“I’m curious, have you ever shaved someone’s face before,” he said as you adjusted your angle once more, letting the razor glide gently across his cheek. His eyes met yours briefly as he asked this, seeing how concentrated you were, however, your body was also completely relaxed.

“Would you be surprised if I said this was my first time performing this procedure on a patient?” you teased, a playful smile on your lips as you quickly swiped another section and finished that side of his cheek.

“You’re doing an outstanding job so far, so I thought you might be experienced at least with the tool,” he was implying something, but like hell you’d rise to the bait. Did he know you played with his razor before…no there was no way he would’ve figured that one out. Playing dumb seemed to be the best solution as you took in a deep, calming breath.

“Sir, I need to remind you to be still for me,” you said as your gaze met his. You noticed a subtle glint of something in his eyes and you forced down the smirk threatening to break your professional demeanor. He was definitely starting to get off with the powerplay that was happening and you wondered how much you could tease him while doing this.

“Understood, I won’t move,” he said as he glanced at you then turned his gaze elsewhere. It was enough for you to relax as you moved his head so you could begin on the other side of his face. For a moment he was being good, letting you move his face however you needed him. His eyes were closed as you worked the razor on him and shaved his face so it would be smooth once again.

When you were wiping the razor clean for the umpteenth time he deemed it necessary to open his mouth, “Is this your exclusive service?” He tried teasing you, but it was clear what the brat was currently doing. Obviously defying what you had just said to see the reaction he could get from you.

“Mr Li…” you began, your voice soft and gentle. The grip on his chin right now was anything but as you looked down at him with a sneer, “Don’t,” you moved his face more to the side, “Move,” you finished as you pressed the razor against his skin.

You had to wait a second as you saw a shiver going down Zayne’s spin and you smirked. His breath had hitched at the tone of your voice you had used and you licked your lips at his reaction. Thankfully he was now looking away from you, probably trying to process his own thoughts, and didn’t catch the lustful gaze you had as your eyes raked up and down his body.

You watched as his cock literally twitched, the movement not subtle in the slightest when the only thing separating you was the silky robe. He clearly was hard underneath it, but from the looks of it he was trying to pretend it wasn’t happening.

Going back to work in cleaning him off, you work on his chin. Your face was now close to him as you made sure you got everything and he was clearly trying to avoid looking at you. You were currently leaning a little more into him, but not touching where he clearly needed some stimulation. You then felt your body shifting a little as he tried to adjust without actually touching you.

You let him, noticing how he was trying to adjust so you couldn’t see how obvious his erection was. You decided to keep stern and cleared your throat, “You’re moving again,” it was hard keeping your tone cold as you said this. He froze, his eyes darting to you like a child who was caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

He cleared his throat, “My apologies,” he murmured as he looked away from you again. He went back to being still, but you just stared at him for a moment, wondering exactly what was going through his head. You knew he was getting all hot and bothered, but normally he wasn’t trying to hide it from you. Then it dawned on you as a grin grew on your face.

One thing that never got tiring was how Zayne got turned on so easily when it came to you. You knew that before you had gotten together he hadn’t slept with anyone, and the poor man had seldom even touched himself. That meant at the start he was getting hard just by staring at you for a little too long. It was a cute quirk of his, at least you thought so.

Zayne however didn’t think it was all that amusing and often had to hide his erection because they would happen at the worst times. He also sucked at noticing when you were trying to get him hard on purpose, even in the most obvious of settings like this one. You were literally sitting on his lap, using a stern voice, and playing into his medical kink slightly…and the man probably was thinking he shouldn’t be getting this hot and bothered right now.

Or perhaps it was due to the fact that he didn’t want to accidentally grind into you while you had a razor to his neck…it could be either or. All you knew for a fact was how cute he looked right now with the most subtle blush on his cheeks as he tried his hardest to pretend like he wasn’t bricked up just by you sitting on his thighs and shaving his face.

You couldn’t help yourself, adjusting yourself to find a better angle and making sure to grind your ass along his length. You watched his throat bob as he held back a moan, getting a nice reaction out of him from the most subtle stimulation. You did it again, allowing it to be a little less subtle as Zayne’s hands went to clamp down on your thighs, making you stop. His eyes frantically found your own as he went to open his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it.

“Zayne?” you asked, leaning your body back enough to get a good look at him. He went back to avoiding your gaze, looking off to the side with flushed cheeks that you were tempted to pinch, “What’s going on? Did I hurt you?” you said next, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek and running your thumb over the smooth skin.

“I…no you didn’t,” his voice came out a little hoarse from his aroused state, his own hand grabbing yours and holding it against his face. He finally looked at you and you noticed how far gone he already was. If the twitch of his cock underneath your ass wasn’t telling enough, the way his pupils seemed to swallow a lot of the hazel in his eyes was your sign that he was losing his composure.

“Then why did you move? I’m almost done,” you said, leaning back in, “Just tip your head back and be a good boy for a little longer,” you breath now fanning over his cheek. A shiver went down his spine as he did so, leaning his head back as you worked the razor against it. After the cheek was finished you began in the underside of his neck which was probably the easiest part.

You slowly finished dragging the razor and then wiped it on the towel, “There we go…” you trailed off as you looked around. You sat up on your knees and leaned over Zayne to grab the towel next to him, your chest brushing against his face. The hands he had kept on your thighs squeezing as you grabbed what you needed.

You soon sat yourself back down, this time your ass now directly over his straining erection. He let out a sharp exhale of breath at the sensation and stared at you. He knew very well that you could feel him at this point, and with how you shifted on his lap to get comfortable he was groaning against you, attempting not to roll his own hips into you.

“Babe, you need to be good, we’re not done yet,” you scolded as you took the towel in your hand and began wiping off any excess cream on his face. You could see with the way his eyes narrowed that he had a small pout on his face, not that he’d ever admit to such a childish thing. It did have you smirking as you finished up and grabbed the next item on the list.

“What else needs to be done,” his fingers were twitching along your plush thighs, the robe you wore didn’t do much as it had ridden up to reveal most of your skin. Even the opening of your robe had fallen open to show some of your chest, the cool air of it making you shiver as you looked Zayne up and down. He wasn’t faring any better really with how he never even bothered tying his robe properly. The slightest shift could unravel the entire thing.

You took the tube of aftershave in hand and applied some to your hand, “Aftershave, of course,” you smirked as you adjusted once more. He gasped out a moan, closing his eyes as your ass continued teasing his hardened length. You held back your own noises as you felt some wetness on your thigh from how his cock was leaking through the silk robes. Your hands made contact with his jaw and cheeks as you caressed his face and smoothed the after shave onto him.

“You seem distracted, Zayne,” you comment as you shift again. Every subtle movement sent a spike of arousal through Zayne as he tried focusing on your hands instead. The way they trailed so delicately over his face and the slightest sting from the aftershave balm you were applying. Your thigh brushed more onto his leaking erection as you felt just how wet he was getting and you relished in knowing it was all because of you.

He grit his teeth and took in a deep breath, attempting to calm himself down, “I’m not distracted in the slightest,” he said. He knew you could feel him with your movements, it was kind of hard not to. Zayne was well endowed and even in a pair of baggier pants it could be seen when he got riled up. Sitting directly on top of it with nothing more than two flimsy silk robes meant you could feel every single vein along his shaft.

“You sure?” you teased, adjusting once more and hearing him unable to hold back a moan which made you chuckle. It’s like it finally clicked in his mind that this entire time you have purposefully been teasing him. He was too adorable for words sometimes, especially with how he always gave you the benefit of the doubt. Seeing that mental click in his brain as he looked at you with his eyes widened had you rewarding him with another drag of your hips against him.

Your hands went back to gingerly rub in the aftershave and he was looking at you with knowing eyes, almost calculating your next move, “You’ve been teasing me this entire time,” it was a statement rather than a question.

“How nice of you to finally notice, my love,” you said, pinching his cheeks slightly. You leaned in, capturing his lips in a quick kiss while holding him in place, “Don’t forget you were the one teasing me in the bathroom earlier. Kissing me like that, making my head spin, and then saying we needed to hurry up and shave. You tried distracting me earlier, didn’t you?” you said, now obviously rutting onto him and using more pressure.

The grasp he had on your thighs now moved over to your hips, squeezing the skin there as he helped you along with grinding on him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he groaned out, rolling his hips into your ass and closing his eyes. His mouth was opened as you leaned in, your grip on him changing from holding onto his cheeks to one hand on his bare chest and the other on the nape of his neck dragging him closer.

You let out a groan of your own into his mouth, feeling how his cock was sliding perfectly against you with every thrust upwards. You knew you’d be soaking through this robe in no time as your tongue played against the roof of Zayne’s mouth, drinking him in and making sure his head was spinning just like he had done to yours earlier.

After a moment of kissing him you leaned away, making sure to lick his lip first teasingly. He was already panting as he looked at you, his hips still rolling up. You sat up and placed yourself back on his thigh and you could hear the pitiful whine that left him. His rosy cheeks only grew darker after he realized the noise that left him, but he opted to pretend like it didn’t happen.

He was about to say something when he noticed where your eyes were trailing to. You could see the clear outline of his cock through the robes, the member standing proudly and creating a large bump. The most intriguing part was where there was a very obvious wet mark where the head of it would go. You had felt it earlier, sure, but now you could see a bead of precum that was on top of it that shined slightly.

You licked your lips and grasped his dick then thumbed over the head of it through the robes, feeling the precum seeping through the material, “Fuck Zayne, you’re already so wet,” you said as you teased his cock. Zayne’s hips bucked up into your touch as he sought out more friction, his head rolling back at finally feeling something wrapped around him. Hearing those filthy words leaving your mouth was doing something to him as he felt his entire body getting hotter.

“Fuck Zayne, you look so good like this…” your free hand went to the tie of your robe, quickly undoing it and letting the material fall and pool around your hips and thighs. Zayne’s eyes were now on your body, trailing up and down before he landed on your face. He seemed to have melted the moment his eyes met your own.

He made a good attempt at steeling himself, “You look breathtaking right now, darling,” he sat up and used his grip on you to pull you closer. His lips collided with yours as he deepened the kiss, he never could get enough of your taste as he groaned at the sensation of your hand never leaving his hardening length. His hands now on your bare skin as he cupped under your ass and lifted you enough to drag the rest of the robes away, discarding them to the ground.

When you parted you began peppering kisses all along his jaw and neck, “I think I’m going to ride you tonight, Zayne,” your hand left his cock and trailed up to his robe tie now, playing with the silken material before slowly undoing the sloppy knot. Zayne’s breath hitched at your words, the mental image of your cunt wrapped around his cock while you bounced on his lap was more than he could handle. As the robe left his body to expose him you could see just how hard his cock had gotten; the head of it was red and dribbling with pre over the rest of the shaft.

“Please don’t forget,” he swallowed, “I’m on call tonight,” he threw his head back as your hand went to wrap around his length without any barriers between you. You tugged on his cock, letting your hand glide easily over him as you teased him and listened to the pretty noises leaving his mouth. His warning came far too late with how fucked out he already was; you found the entire situation amusing as you rose an eyebrow to look down at him.

“They’re just phone calls,” you dismissed it easily with your grip tightening and making him whimper, “You can answer them while I’m riding you. You just have to not moan like a whore into your phone and it’ll be fine, right?” it was impossible for Zayne not to be vocal while you were on him. He normally was so good at masking his emotions and expressions, but when it came to you he became an open book. You could read him so easily and draw out emotions he thought were long gone.

His breath caught in his throat; with either anxiety or arousal was to be seen. You riding him while he took a work call was surely going to end horribly and he knew it, but he couldn’t help the way his body reacted to your words. His cock twitched in your grasp and you could see another bead forming on the tip which your thumb swiped over and used to slicken up your hold on him.

“That wouldn’t be a good-ah,” he groaned with how your pace picked up in stroking him; his words lost on his tongue as he stared up at you. His hips jerked up into your touch in a feeble attempt to fuck your closed fist and get more stimulation.

Of course this reaction didn’t go unnoticed by you as you looked at Zayne with a smirk, “Really babe, you’re leaking everywhere and you’re trying to tell me this isn’t something you want?” You took your hand away and licked your thumb, never breaking eye contact with him. You watched the turmoil in his eyes as he observed your pink tongue licking at the precum that had dribbled out.

“I…ah!” his words died again as you went to stroke his length faster, your grip tighter than before. Your chuckle echoed in the room as you tilted your head to the side, waiting for him to continue, “Don’t think…mhm,” he was losing his own wits at the moment, opting to just let you do whatever you wanted. He knew it was a losing battle, the way you felt was always too good for him to simply pass up.

It was only when you lifted up and began hovering over his cock, positioning it at your entrance that he stopped you. His grip tightening as he looked at you, “You know you can’t take my length without preparation,” his tone was near scolding as he looked at you. For the first time since he made out with you in the shower, the stern Zayne came out and looked at you with hard eyes.

You let out a small and annoyed whine, “You’re on call for consultations and meetings, Dr. Li,” you began with a pout in hopes he’d just give it up, “Do we really have the time for all that?” you just wanted to feel his length stretching you out already. With all the teasing and cute reactions you had gotten from Zayne, it had also left you feeling wet and needy for the man. You just happened to have better self control at times…or perhaps your need to make him whimper overrode your own need to fuck him.

Zayne’s grip didn’t lessen at all, “We always have time to prepare you,” now it was your turn to blush. He said it with such finality you had to groan a little bit.

“Alright, fine, have it your way,” you guessed this would be fine, at least now you had a chance to walk tomorrow. Zayne was huge in every sense of the way, and normally even with preparation if you took his entire length you sometimes wouldn’t be walking straight for a day or two. He always tried to stop you from taking all of him anytime you two fucked, but the moment your pussy was wrapped around him all of his sensability went out the door. You loved feeling all of him every single time you fucked him, which is why you preferred being on top. It was teasing whenever he was on top and he only fucked you with part of his length.

“I just have no idea why you’re so fascinated with being put in a wheelchair,” you gasped at his words and then looked away. A small smile was now working its way onto your lips though at the horribly made joke. He wasn’t wrong about needing a wheelchair part. If you fucked him without prep that might actually end up happening. Last time it had happened you ended up calling out of work because you literally couldn’t walk without an obvious limp.

“Come here,” he said, lifting you up until you were now balanced on your knees. He dragged you closer to him as he adjusted himself in his spot, leaning his head back onto the couch. You then realized the position he had grabbed you in, your cunt now right in his face, almost dripping onto his chest, “Just like that,” he murmured, tugging your thighs apart so he'd have easier access.

The moment his tongue licked up your folds for the first time you knew you were going to be putty in this man’s hands. The amount of times he had eaten you out is immeasurable at this point. He had your body down to a science and he was more than happy to use it in situations like these.

You groaned as he lapped at your wet cunt, his mouth forming a small suction around your clit as he worked to get a good taste of you. One hand coming up to prod a finger into your entrance which made you gasp. Your hips rolled into his face as he slipped it inside, crooking it into your pussy as he began leisurely pumping into you. Despite how you knew he had things to do he seemed intent on taking his time to do this correctly.

You groaned, noticing how he was going too slow, his tongue simply playing with your clit as his single finger fucked up into you. He was doing this on purpose now, you knew you were wet enough for a second and probably third finger inside of you. His eyes glanced up at you in that moment, taking you in and you could see the look in his eyes that told you he was planning on keeping up with this pace and bringing you to a slow orgasm tonight.

With a small, annoyed groan your hand went to his hair, tugging harshly to get his attention, “Zayne,” your voice came out low and threatening, “Don’t tease me unless you want me to edge you for the next few hours,” if he wanted to be slow with eating your cunt, then you’d happily just sit on his cock and warm him for a few hours, moving the moment he began relaxing to get him riled up again. You had done it several times in the past when he decided it would be fun to be a cheeky bastard. Normally by the end of the second hour he was so fucked out he could barely think and begging you to just move already.

You could see the hesitation in his eyes for a moment and feel him taking in a sharp breath at your words. Zayne is admittedly a slut when it comes to your whims, and something you noticed about him is that he enjoyed being edged. He also knew that now wasn’t the time. Not when there was a possibility of getting a work call at any moment. While you doubted anyone would be calling him at this time anyway, there was still a chance.

Zayne let out a low moan, his tongue now working properly on your pussy, lapping at your juices and you could hear the smacking noises of his lips against you. He slipped a second finger inside, quickly scissoring into you and working you open for his cock. Your head was thrown back as he finally began giving you what you wanted. The slow build up was sometimes nice, but you were far too needy at the moment and his cock was the only thing on your mind.

The grip in his hair stayed consistent as Zayne began getting lost with the taste of you, your juices dripping down his chin as his free hand gripped your ass to drag you closer to him. He was groaning and you could see how he tried rolling his ups up into nothing as he worked on bringing you to the brink. You rewarded him with a loud moan that echoed off the walls of the room, looking down at him with a smile.

“Fuck,” you groaned out, now rolling your hips into his face as you felt yourself getting closer, “Such a good boy,” your breathing became labored and Zayne could definitely feel how your cunt pulsed around his fingers. You were getting closer by the second as you looked down at the man. He looked utterly disheveled at the moment, his eyes closed as he got lapped at your pussy like a starved man.

You ground your hips against his mouth a few more times before letting out a cry, your cunt tightening around his digits as you came. The tension in you snapping as you rode his face, feeling how he was angling his fingers to graze against that sensitive spot inside you as he worked you through it. Your juices now trailing down onto his chest, and the noises in the room were nothing but your panting and the loud slurping noises of Zayne drinking you in.

By the time you came down your thighs were almost shaking. You loosened your hold on Zayne’s hair and moved away for a moment. His chin was shiny and wet as Zayne brought his fingers up to his mouth, licking off the rest of your essence. He groaned at your taste, his eyes never leaving yours and a shiver went down your spine as you adjusted yourself back into his lap. You grabbed the back of his head, dragging him close until you were crashing your lips against his.

You could taste yourself so clearly on his tongue and Zayne melted into your lips right away. His tongue playing with your own as he groaned, clearly already fucked out and he hadn’t even cum yet. He was so content though as you explored his mouth, moaning as the taste until you were pulling away with a gentle nip on his lower lip.

“I think you might’ve enjoyed yourself more than I did,” you said, your voice coming out a little labored still as you went to wipe away some of the slick on his chin. Your eyes trailed down between your bodies and you could see a small pool of his pre cum on his abs, his cock head red from how turned on he was at the moment.

Zayne looked down to see the mess he had made on himself then back up at you, “I always enjoy making you feel good,” he said as he cupped your ass, his eyes were needy and filled with longing that it caught you off guard, “If you want to use me, you have my permission,” his cock twitched once again and you smiled. You leaned in quickly, capturing him in a quick kiss and nuzzling his nose with your own. He was so vulnerable with you now and days, and words like this always set your heart speeding.

“Did you want me to use you, pretty boy? Ride you and use your cock until I cum again?” you asked, your voice coming out gently as you press your lips against his skin. Your mouth trailing kisses along his neck, leaving a few small nips in your wake. He could wear one of his turtle necks tomorrow for all you cared, you just wanted to see him littered in marks right now. You were sucking harshly at the junction between his neck and collarbone and managed to leave a pretty red mark there that you kissed gently as you rose up.

Zayne could clearly see what you were doing but at this point he didn’t care, all rationality was lost, “Yes, please,” his voice quivered as he admitted his desires. It sent a shiver down your spine as you went in to suck another nice red mark on his collarbone and let off, looking at him with a lascivious gaze.

You grasped his cock in your hand, pumping it then placing the head right at your entrance. You could feel the bluntness of it and shivered, knowing the stretch would probably sting only a little bit since he had worked you opened. One day you swore your pussy would become accustomed to his size, molded to it. Still the intimacy between you two was still relatively new, only going on for a handful of months. You hadn’t fucked him in two weeks before this due to conflicting schedules and you were dying to feel him again. Zayne’s eyes didn’t leave yours as he watched as you slowly began taking his cock into you.

Zayne grasped the back of your neck, dragging you to his lips as he began kissing you. It was sloppy and hurried as his hips bucked up into you as he tried getting you to take more of him. His cock slid more into you and managed to hit your sweet spot and you took in a sharp inhale of breath. It was clear how much he wanted to feel your pussy clenched around his length as you smirked against his mouth. You let out a moan yourself, feeling how his cock was almost nestled all the way inside of you. You wondered briefly if it would be a good idea to take all of him tonight. Two weeks wasn’t that long ago, you could probably take it this time around.

You braced your arms on his chest as you sat up to get a good view of him. You didn’t even have a chance to begin moving when you saw Zayne’s arm coming up to cover his face. He let out a loud groan while he rolled his hips up into you. You could feel his cock twitching and then the warmth filling you up. Your eyes widened as you realized he was coming just from having you sitting on his cock. He had been more worked up than you originally thought, and it sent jolts of pleasure through you as he continued bucking up into you to ride it out.

His thrusts were shallow while he let out pretty moans that were muffled as he tried biting into his own arm out of embarrassment. That clearly wouldn’t do as you grasped his arm suddenly and moved it away from his face, pinning it to the couch above you. His eyes were wide as he stared at you, jaw hanging open as he let out a whiny moan.

“Don’t hide yourself, sweetheart. I wanna see you,” you rolled your hips into him as you helped him through his orgasm. His freehand went to grasp your ass and squeezed it harder than he intended as he tried moving you along his cock. He was almost shaking from how good it must’ve felt and as he slowly started to come down he looked down between your bodies.

He could see some of his release coming out of you, dripping onto his lap and coating his cock in the substance. The creamy mixture of your joined fluids was almost too much for him as his cock gave a final spurt into you.

“Did it feel that good to be buried in my pussy that you came instantly?” You asked as you brought your hand to his still wet chin. You made him look at you and he could see the mischievous glint in your eyes as he tried looking away. You chuckled, dragging him in for another kiss and grabbing his discarded robe next to you to wipe away some of the mess on his chin. He was panting into your mouth as you bit down hard on his lip.

Instead of leaving marks in your wake you were content with just leaving sweet kisses all over his face as he caught his breath. He was clearly enjoying himself with how his eyes closed and he relaxed into your touches. After a few more moments he was finally able to speak, “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his eyes opened to look at you. The embarrassment at coming the moment his cock was put into you was clearly there, but you found it more adorable if anything.

“Don’t be sorry,” you said gently, cupping his cheek. You watched as he leaned into your touch and smiled, “Besides, I’m not done with you just yet, Zayne,” you said and his eyes shot over to you. You felt his cock move inside of you and you smirked, “Looks like you’re not done either,”

His cock might’ve been softening inside of you right now, but you were intent on keeping him inside of you as long as possible. Before Zayne could protest you began rolling your hips onto his sensitive cock; a gasp left his mouth as he watched the way you were moving. Zayne had always been so easy to overstimulate, and the time it took for him to get hard again was always so fast it sometimes surprised you.

His grip tightened as he watched you lift off his dick slightly then roll back down, taking his softening length back into you. He hissed and closed his eyes, “W-wait…” he groaned, needing a minute before you properly began fucking him. You let out a hum, your hand on his chest as you pushed him back so he was pressed into the couch. You leaned up onto him with your hips still moving at a slow and agonizing pace for him.

“Wait? Zayne, you’re in call dear, we don’t have time to wait,” you teased him. You could see the cogs in his head turning at that and he bit his lower lip as he attempted to control himself, closing his eyes as he tried to not focus on the uncomfortable feeling of his sensitive cock being squeezed by you.

“Please…” he whimpered out and you chuckled at how breathy his voice was at the moment. You cupped his chin, forcing him to look at you. His cock was slowly starting to harden again, but it still felt too sensitive to be wrapped so tightly inside your pussy.

“Please what?” you cooed, your thumb pressing on his bottom lip. He tried to say something, but words were lost to him as he felt you squeezing around him, instead a small gasp left him as his hips moved up into you. You clicked your tongue and shook your head, “Remember earlier when I was shaving your face?” he was silent again and you applied more pressure to his lip, “Zayne, use your words,”

“Yes,” he said, swallowing thickly as he looked up at you, his adam's apple moving with the motion. His eyes were starting to get a little wet from the overstimulation and you groaned at the sight of him.

“You said you’d stay still,” you reminded him and he nodded in response, “Can you stay still for me again?” you cocked your head to the side and waited for him.

“I can…but why?” he said; as soon as the words left he realized what you had implied. Instead of placing your hands on him you put them on the couch behind him. You used it as leverage and raised a singular brow while smirking down at him. The way you seemed locked on meant only one thing.

You began riding him in earnest, your ass bouncing on his lap as you used the couch as leverage to help you. Your loud moans started filling the room as you felt his thick cock stretching you out. You still hadn’t even taken all of him yet but you were already feeling like you were getting close as you pressed your chest against him. Every single vein of his dick felt heavenly as you threw your head back to let out loud moans that allowed him to know just how good he was making you feel. He did say you could use him as your own personal toy if you really wanted to, so you were simply taking advantage of the offer.

Despite how he said he would sit still he couldn’t help as he began kissing your chest. They were bouncing right in front of him and he groaned, the wet smacking noises of his lips against your chest joined in with your moans. You felt his warm mouth latch onto one of your nipples making you keen, pressing your chest closer to  his face.

“Fuck, Zayne, just like that,” you groaned, not bothering to scold him for being disobedient when he was making you feel so damn good. He was managing to keep his hips from fucking up into you at the moment so that would have to be good enough. Zayne moaned against your chest, his tongue laving over your hardened bud before popping off and kissing between your chest. Zayne swore if you allowed him he would stay like this, just kissing and sucking at your chest. He was starting to leave marks all over your skin without remorse, loving how the red seemed to bloom like roses on your skin.

You clench tightly around him as he presses gentle kisses against your skin and you feel your pace faltering a little bit. You were getting so damn close to coming already just from how he stretched you out so perfectly. You bit your lip as you tried picking up the speed to help reach your orgasm sooner, angling so your clit hit his pelvis with every stroke.

You felt his cock twitching again and you were so close to the cusp of getting to cum, and you were certain he was almost there as well. Then it was absolutely ruined the moment you heard a familiar ring tone coming from the side table next to you. You both paused, your cunt halfway on his cock as you both slowly looked over at his phone. It was flashing with the caller ID of one of the doctor’s you recognized from the convention. 

The blonde female’s name popped up and you turned back to Zayne. It was nearly ten at night currently, and you didn’t know why the fuck someone would be calling. You could see the look in Zayne’s eyes as he truly debated if he was going to answer it. He did say he was on call for things regarding the conventions, meetings, and even emergency patient consultations. Still, at this time of night unless it was a patient or a coworker, did anyone really have a right to be calling him? If it was that important they could’ve sent him an email about the events of the convention rather than calling him at a time where most people should be asleep.

Zayne looked back at you, “I have to…answer this…” he sounded defeated as he looked back at his phone. You let out a sigh, reaching over and grabbing his phone. His hand was already out for you to place the device in his palm. He looked at the phone then back at you, “I’m…” he was about to apologize but you shook your head with a small smile. Even if you felt a little bubble of rage inside of you, you quelled it. You knew how important his job was. Hell if your Hunter’s watch went off you’d probably be jumping off his dick and grabbing your guns.

“Just answer it,” you said, knowing that in two rings it would go to voicemail. He finally swiped up on the phone and put it against his ear.

You could hear the female doctor’s voice on the other line who seemed surprised that Zayne had actually answered at this time. You frowned at how peppy the woman sounded and you could only barely hear her at the moment. Your eyes narrowed at the device and Zayne began giving short replies to the woman and attempted to keep his breathing even.

“Yes, tomorrow at eleven,” you heard Zayne murmur into the receiver followed by a, “Before the meeting?” and now your eyes were widened. You could tell that this phone call clearly wasn’t an important one, which you had suspected. That woman was from a different hospital, however she had met with Zayne at a previous doctor’s seminar about two months back. When you two had been walking around the convention center earlier today she had seemed overly friendly with him, going so far as to touch his arm while speaking. You had almost broken her hand at that since Zayne had tensed up the moment the woman had touched him.

It didn’t sit right with you, especially judging by how Zayne was speaking to her while balls deep in you. You made a motion for Zayne to put it on speaker and at first he shook his head, but one glare from you and he was moving the phone away from his ear and clicking the button so you could hear the conversation. You gave him a smile in response for listening to you.

“Yes, since the panel tomorrow was a little bit later in the evening I was wondering if you’d like to perhaps grab some coffee before it. I heard you have a sweet tooth and I know a place close to the convention center that has amazing milk tea,” the peppy woman on the other end began saying and you looked between the phone then over to Zayne. She was calling at ten so she could…ask him out on a coffee date for tomorrow morning? She…she had seen you two together. Sure PDA wasn’t something you guys partook in at events like this. You were certain that Zayne had made sure to introduce you as his partner though to everyone who had asked, including her. She knew he was a taken man.

“Thank you for the offer, but I’ll have to decline,” Zayne began but the other doctor seemed very persistent when she was speaking to him. Her voice even dropped to be a little more…seductive perhaps?

“Are you certain? They also have some items for breakfast we could try. I heard their cinnamon rolls were to die for, and I think they make fresh macaroons every morning,” how did this bitch find out she could tempt him with macarons? Who fucking told her? Greyson was at this convention too, wasn’t he? You swore up and down that if he had told this woman about Zayne’s preferences in food you were going to give him an earful tomorrow when Zayne wasn’t looking.

You gave Zayne the look as he seemed to think over the offer for a brief moment. You absolutely would not be having him thinking about going to breakfast with someone who was clearly trying to get into his pants. You decide to squeeze yourself around him and Zayne let out a small gasp at the sudden stimulation that he hadn’t been expecting.

His wide eyes looked at you, shaking his head as if pleading for you to not do this. You smirked though, clearly satisfied with how he reacted to just a little bit of teasing. Your hands left the back of the couch so you could rest them on his chest, your fingers going around his nipples, but not touching them; a small warning for him to tread carefully and probably end the phone call the moment he could.

“Zayne, is everything alright?” hearing this woman calling him by his first name instead of Dr. Li sent a spike of hot rage through you. You thought to yourself that perhaps you weren’t an overly jealous person, but that solidified that you could be downright nasty when someone was trying to hit on Zayne. Especially since the man didn’t seem to think anything of it, probably assuming it was just a casual conversation and she wasn’t flirting with him. Even you had to be extremely forward before he realized you were actually trying to flirt with him.

You looked at Zayne with a loving smile, your hand trailing up his chest and into his hair for a brief moment. He looked at you confused before letting out the loudest moan as you slammed down fully on his cock, taking all of him suddenly. You could feel the sting going through you as his cock slammed into your cervix, but you managed to school your expression as you had priorities.

The other end of the receiver was silent for a moment as there was no way the noise of you dropping down on his cock, and then his moan could’ve been mistaken for anything else. You knew damn well that you were caught having sex during a phone call, but honestly you didn’t care. You weren’t about to sit idly while someone flirted with your boyfriend while you were sitting on his dick.

“He’s busy right now,” you stated bluntly, “And he’s going to be similarly busy tomorrow morning as well,” your voice was clipped. The woman began stammering out a reply as she processed what was going on, but you had grabbed the phone and hung up on her. You tossed the device somewhere on the couch where it was out of sight and out of mind. You didn’t care who else tried calling him tonight, you refused to let him answer another call…and honestly probably after he fell asleep tonight you were going to block that other doctor’s number from his phone.

Zayne looked at you with both shock and something else hidden beneath the depths of those gorgeous eyes of his. He licked his lips and furrowed his brows as he cleared his throat, “You didn’t have to do that,” he said, his cheeks very red now. He always was a stickler for keeping up his reputation, but at the moment you really didn't give a damn. If that woman wanted to spread rumors about Zayne getting laid over the phone, she’d have to admit she was flirting with the man in the first place. Besides, it might send a message to everyone else that he was very much taken.

“Well she did see us together at the convention center,” you began as you rose up on his cock. He groaned at the feeling of your slick walls gliding on him, “So she knew you were a taken man yet she still wanted to try and get you to go on a date with her,” you slowly descended back down on his dick until it was fully nestled into you. You leaned forward and pressed kisses behind his ear as you whispered, “Honestly if she tries that shit again I’ll fuck you right in front of her next time so she can see what a needy mess you become for me and me only,”

Zayne wasn’t prepared as you began bouncing on his cock quickly, accentuating every roll of your hips when he bottomed out. He had his head thrown back as he groaned loudly into the room, not prepared for you to go so fast again. His dick was twitching like crazy and you knew he was getting close and you were thrilled at the thought of him filling you up again. His neck was on full display and you began sucking a mark right on his jaw line where he wouldn’t be able to hide it unless he wore a scarf up to his damn mouth.

You squeezed his cock so perfectly, and the way that your body looked above him did things to Zayne he had never thought possible before meeting you. His eyes never leaving your face or chest, depending on which one came into view as you fucked yourself on him. It was like you were using his body as a toy, an instrument for your own pleasure. The sweat pearled on your skin and slid down the valley of your breasts and he leaned in, licking the salty mess and groaned.

“I’m close,” it was a warning from Zayne; to help you decide if you wanted to slow down and prolong your own pleasure, or to let him tumble over that perfect edge and paint your insides. With how your pace didn’t falter he decided it was the later, “Ah ah ah,” his panting against your chest made you chuckle. Your hand threaded into his hair and pressed him closer.

“Baby, play with my chest again. Want to feel that mouth of yours,” you groaned and he didn’t hesitate. His tongue quickling found one of your nipples and bit down around it. You jerked your hips on him and he knew he was done for.

He hid his moans into your chest, playing with your nipple as he came inside of you. The warmth spread over you and you bucked your hips, rolling them against his perfectly as he came inside of you. You were moaning alongside him, the noises mingling perfectly together as you settled on his lap and just ground yourself on his cock to help him through his second orgasm.

You felt him bucking up into you again, his body moving on his own. His hand twitched on your ass and then grabbed a fistful of it and tried dragging you closer and you chuckled. You watched him pop off your breast with a wet noise and he looked up at you panting.

His head was fuzzy and he couldn’t think of something to say, but it looked like he didn’t have to. For the second time that night he watched as you began riding his sensitive cock right after his orgasm. This time he let out a sharp gasp. His hands were on your hips in a weak attempt to hold you down, but as a hunter you managed to have a little more strength than him, especially after he had just come and was still blissed out from it.

“Zayne, lemme cum too, fuck I’m so close lemme ride you for a little longer,” your voice was so melodic as you said this, your hips not letting up in the slightest as you literally used him as a dildo at the moment. There wasn’t much he could do but help you work through your pleasure, so that’s what he did. He sat up and you felt his cock moving in you, dragging against your sweet spot as he managed to get a new angle inside of you without even trying.

He placed one of his hands into your hair and dragged your head closer to him as he began leaving wet kisses all over your neck and collarbone. His other hand was going between your bodies and pressing down on your clit before rubbing in the way he knew made you go crazy. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to last long with how you felt around him, and he knew if he came again before you did he would be too fucked out for the rest of the evening to do anything.

The added stimulation had you gasping, pussy squeezing so perfectly around him that he was whimpering. His cock never had a chance to get soft as it was still hard inside of you. “F-fuck Zayne, mhn ah so so fucking clo-close babe,” you said as he groaned against your neck and left a red mark in a place you also wouldn’t be able to hide, essentially giving you a matching hicky. 

You wanted to say something witty about how fucked out he was that he didn’t care if people saw the results of your romps, but your head was swimming right now as you let out a series of sweet moans. Zayne’s hips rolled in time with your own and you felt how he twitched inside of you, “Z-Zayne,” you whined, “C-can you cum again, sweetheart?” you gasped out as you felt his teeth grazing that soft spot between your ear and neck.

The way you felt his cock moving inside of you was enough to let you know he could. His refractory period had always been so damn short and one day you swore you’d explore just how fast and many times you could make him cum in an hour. Right now though you just wanted to cum yourself as you worked your hips perfectly on him and chased your high.

It didn’t take much, not with how his hand was working your clit and his cock abused your g-spot every time you impaled yourself on him. Your pussy clenched tightly like a vice around him and your thighs quivered as you cried out. You came hard, your juices flowing on his cock and it was enough to send him into his third orgasm of the night.

The combination of your tight pussy and the overstimulation had him spilling inside of you, filling you to the breaking point as his release flowed down out since you couldn’t contain it all inside. He was whimpering as you rode out your high, closing your eyes and holding his shoulder so tightly you were certain there would be bruising. His whines went perfectly with your own panting as you finally found yourself coming down to earth, sliding down on his cock weakly.

Zayne’s head was still nestled in the crook of your neck and you worked on shrugging him off. When he finally looked back at you his eyes were glassy and you leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips. He went on autopilot, accepting your affections as he opened his mouth. It was lazy as you made out with him, tongue pressing against his own in a slow and sloppy kiss. Neither of you cared at the moment though, just savoring the moment of being like this.

Your chest was heaving as you parted, pressing your forehead against his own and closing your eyes. You were both sweaty and absolute messes, making your previous shower absolutely useless in hindsight. You chuckled at the thought, your hands running through his hair and playing with it as you smiled against him.

“What’s so funny?” his voice was husky and quiet as he asked this and you opened your eyes to stare at him.

“We made a mess right after our shower,” you commented and he let out a huff. He was clearly coming back to his senses as you just sat there instead of moving and overstimulating him again. His hands now laid on your thighs again, giving them a small squeeze.

“Who’s fault is that?” he murmured, making you laugh again and pressing a kiss against his forehead.

“You’re the one who got hard from me shaving your face,” you remind him calmly, “Didn’t know you had a kink for sharp objects being pressed against you,”

“I do not have that kink,” he grumbled, but his argument was invalid after you felt him twitch inside of you. You let out another laugh and leaned back a little to cup his face.

“You sure about that?” The way his eyes avoided you was all you needed for an answer. You shook your head and decided to rest against his chest for a little longer. He wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you closer and placed his chin on top of your head. The moment was serene as you basked in the afterglow.

Instead of giving you an answer he just cleared his throat, “We need to clean up,” now it was your turn to groan at his words. He always was so anal about doing things properly with aftercare when all you ever wanted to do was cuddle with him and fall asleep. Of course if you fucked him to the point where he couldn’t think properly you would take the mantle, but it seemed today he was still well enough to have common sense…you’d fuck him senseless next time.

“Just a little longer,” you tried convincing him by using a whinier voice than normal. You looked up at him through your eyelashes in a silent form of begging, hoping he’d just let you have your way like he normally would in situations that didn’t involve your actual health.

Zayne shook his head, “If I give into you now then you’ll just fall asleep, and I can’t have that,” okay well he might’ve been accurate in that assessment, but it didn’t mean you were about to give up on your goal of cuddling with him right now.

“Counter argument…I cock warm you and we go to sleep like this right here on the couch,” You tried to reason, but clearly Zayne was not about to let you do that.

“That’s not good for your health,” he watched as you groaned, “We need to clean up, you need to use the restroom, and after that we can lay down in a proper bed and go to sleep,” he made an attempt to reason but you were still pouting at the thought.

“Aren’t you tired?” you mumbled, “You came three times,” you reminded him as your hand trailed over his chest gently. You tried looking innocent despite the fact that you had been riding this man and overstimulating him for around an hour at this point.

“I’m still fully capable of standing…” he said and you watched the corners of his mouth twitch, “Besides, you’ve done worse in the past,” you gasped and looked at him with an open mouth. Okay just because you’ve fucked him to the point of crying in the past and had him shooting blanks meant nothing.

You then smirked, “I mean…I can make you cum like four more times and then we’ll see if that statement pans out,” you chuckled at the thought. You wouldn’t mind wrapping your mouth around him and making him cum a few more times if it meant he’d be tired enough to not bother with getting off this couch. You just wanted to relax into him despite how tired you were and how your muscles ached. You knew damn well that you wouldn’t be able to ride him much longer if you tried, you already ached between your legs. It might’ve also been the reason you didn’t want to get off his dick at the moment, you knew that sore feeling would only fester the moment you did.

“Nope, not tonight, I have to do things tomorrow,” he said and he went to lift you up, but watched the small flinch the moment he slid you up on his cock. It seemed the real reason you wanted to couchrot finally clicked in his brain, “You took all of me…” he finally muttered as he looked down at you.

“Was I...not supposed to?” you asked and it was clear as day that you were guilty. Just like how he had things to do tomorrow, you did as well. Mainly accompanying him since you had insisted on joining him for a convention as his plus one. You had a full day of walking around a convention center.

He sighed and shook his head, “While I might be able to walk right now…can you?” he asked and you looked away and bit your lip.

“I mean…with a limp I could,” okay maybe slamming down on his cock during that phone call wasn’t your best decision, but you were feeling a little jealous and needed the bitch to know he was yours. You tended to make stupid decisions when it came to your jealousy. It didn’t happen often since most people understood they shouldn’t be flirting with a taken man, but when it did you never made smart decisions.

You let out a hiss as he finally lifted you off his dick and you could see the trail of your combined releases coming out of you and onto his lap. You’d have to clean this couch before it stained or else you’d be getting a nice little bill from the resort when you guys left. You could feel the ache so clearly now and it was written all over your face.

Zayne stood up with you still in his arms, making you lock your legs around his waist as he began carrying you into the bathroom. Your arms wrapped around him as you leaned closer to him, placing your chin on his shoulder as you let him carry you.

“Shouldn’t I be the one taking care of you right now?” you murmured, letting out a small yawn afterwards as you nuzzled into him.

“Your argument would be more valid if you could walk,” he said with an amused huff. The bathroom was now cool, a stark contrast to how warm the living room had been after your session. The air was significantly less thick and not smelling of sex which you weren’t sure if you loved or hated right now.

“Again, I can walk…just not well,” you stated as he placed you down on the counter. You leaned your back against the cool mirror as you watched him walk to the shower and turn it on again. You were certain this time around the shower would be quick and almost clinical as he took care of your needs, “Seriously this should be reversed,”

“You’ve already taken care of me, snowflake, now it’s my turn,” the sound of the nickname made you flush and you looked away for a brief moment. Zayne seemed amused by your reaction as he made his way back to you. His hands now on the back of your thighs as he got ready to pick you back up, “Do you think you’ll be okay for tomorrow? I can go out and buy some heating pads. I already have pain relievers in my bag,” he commented as he placed a kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“I don’t think I need a wheelchair if that’s what you're asking…” you then smirked, “Although if you wanted to wheel me around in one tomorrow I won’t say no.” it would send a pretty good message to that one doctor…

“If you’re in that much pain tomorrow then you’ll be on bed rest,” he warned and you let out a groan.

“You know, Zayne,” you said as you pulled him closer to kiss him quickly, “It’s a good thing I love you,”

The way he looked at you was filled with so much affection it made your breath get caught in your throat. Even though he seldom was able to say the words himself you could tell in the way his eyes looked into your own that he loved you with every fiber of his being, “The feeling is mutual,” he leaned in again for a soft and sweet kiss that would always make you melt like snow. You smiled into it, allowing him to care for you once more for the night.

Aight it's here. It's finished. @anxiousgoddest I know you were excited for it so here is it. The fic. It's done. Also @zayne-li helped me a lot with coming up with some ideas for this so a big thank you!

[glitter-epoch]

-ˋˏ [ nerve endings ] ˎˊ

≪ zayne x afab!reader ≫ - smut under the cut, 18+ ONLY mdni!!! do NOT!!! - part two of this drabble, but all you really need to know is zayne gave you stitches and neither of you are being normal about it. - warnings: smut at the end, afab reader no gender assigned pet names or references, a couple y/n's, reader got stitches in the first part, no explicit description of wound, slight pain from the wound at one point, fingering, zayne is mean and also anxious, he's real for that, zayne's scars mention

again, 18+ under the cut! mdni!

you’re unscrewing the cap on the ointment zayne ordered for you when your phone rings. the two gigantic strides you take to cross to the kitchen are ridiculous, but you’ve been waiting for him to call since his shift ended.

zayne. his name flashes on the screen, right under the time, 8:08 PM. you fumble to get the phone in your hands and put it up to your ear, cap still balanced between your fingers. 

“hi,” you breathe out. 

zayne is quiet for a moment. something whirrs in the background, mechanical and smooth. 

“hello,” he replies, in that somehow monotonous and matter-of-fact tone. “why are you out of breath?” 

“nothing,” you swallow. “just...trying to get the cap off the ointment you got me.” 

another moment passes. the soft drone of machinery in the background clicks in your mind, finally-  

“are you driving?” you ask. surely he’s not- 

“not anymore,” zayne says, and the whirring dies. “i’m in your parking lot. i have extra bandages and dinner for you. i’ll leave them outside if you’re not in the mood for company.” 

the feelings that pass through you are like a molotov cocktail; fear and excitement and relief all at once. it all burns in your chest. zayne had said he was going to call, but once it got to be past seven o’clock, you wondered if he’d forgotten. and you didn’t really think he would come see you, but...you had maybe thought he might. 

“you got me dinner?” you start, nervously. “that’s too much. thank you.” 

you’re in your pajamas, gauze pad ungracefully peeking out over the waistband of your fuzzy blue shorts.  

“i’m not dressed,” you murmur, unsure of what exactly your goal is in saying so. you do want him to come up- 

“i don’t care about that,” he replies. “but if you need time to put something else on, i can wait. i didn’t call you until eight.” 

“yeah,” you huff, “what were you doing?” 

zayne sighs. “buying you bandages.” 

“quit paying for things!” 

you look around your apartment. it’s clean, thankfully, uncluttered and dusted; countertops gleaming to the usual degree once they’ve been wiped down. he says he doesn’t care about your outfit, and you believe him. 

you can see him in your mind’s eye- buttoning your trousers, zipping them up like it was nothing. 

“i’m glad you came,” you say, chest buzzing with nerves. “i’ll come let you in. do you remember which building i’m in?” 

“i’m already outside.” 

you scamper all the way downstairs, gliding over the complex’s steps so fast it’s a miracle you don’t slip and fall. by the time you get to the bottom, you're out of breath again; the cut over your hip sore. 

zayne’s hair is blown over his forehead by a cold breeze that curls in through the open door of the apartment building, quickly sucking all of the warm air out of the lobby. you step aside, ushering him in. 

“oh, it’s cold,” you complain, narrowing your eyes out the glass door as you shut it behind him. “are you cold? no. you have that massive coat.” 

zayne looks down at his black overcoat; the sharp triangles of the lapels framing his jaw, which is just as sharp. he takes one pale hand out of his pocket to brush the hair out of his eyes. you’re smart enough not to ogle this time, but your eyes do snag on something- 

scars. little ones, all over the back of his hand; one deeper, longer one down the center. 

if he notices your gaze falter, he doesn’t say. 

“it is cold,” zayne chides. “you shouldn’t have come down here in shorts.” 

“i was barely outside,” you retort. 

“why are you wearing them in the first place?” is zayne’s reply.  

“they have cows on them,” you mumble, pointing at the wide nose of one on your shorts. “here, come upstairs. is that soup?” 

“yes,” zayne replies simply.  

his tone is a little icier than it had been at akso, but his porcelain cheeks are red, and his lips are wet with cold, too. there’s a small black thermal bag on his other arm, and mug in that hand (also scarred, you see, and his fingers move around aimlessly). he’s nervous.  

he’s nervous. 

you’d grin if you weren’t about to throw up. 

. . .  

he’s so tall. his shadow seems to stretch out across your living room as he sits down next to you on the sofa; half-a-cushion away. it seems intentional. 

“you didn’t have to heat it up for me,” you scold. 

zayne nearly ignores this, but provides you with a small mm and shake of his head. “you shouldn’t be reaching up that high, at the microwave; your stitches could tear.” 

you inhale, trying to settle in as he clearly does the same beside you. the back of your couch barely meets his shoulder blades. the lights are low, the overheads in the kitchen a distant glow. the resting screen of the television, the far-off lights of linkon, and one small lamp on the side table remain.  

zayne’s taken his jacket off, and his usual white button-down is gone. the charcoal-grey slacks remain (they’re tailored. they have to be. nobody’s legs look that good in department store slacks).  

his shirt is black, and thermal; with subtle waffling. it looks soft, but it’s tight around his biceps. at this waist, the shirt leaves a tiny bit of room- he's strong, his shoulders are wide, but he’s lean, you think. 

things you’d never have noticed in his usual uniform, and also, things you do not need to and should not be noticing. 

you avert your eyes only to find him rolling up his sleeves.  

Lord. zayne fluffs the rice inside a small plastic box with a fork and stirs a couple of glazed chicken strips into the container, a healthy amount of steamed broccoli also placed in the side tin. instead of handing it to you, he slides it across the coffee table as a small curl of steam rises from the rice. 

the vein that starts in center of his palm and disappears through his inner-wrist flexes as he pokes the fork into one of the broccoli florets. 

“you don’t eat enough vegetables,” zayne remarks.  

he has his glasses on. you’re too busy noticing this to offer a snide reply to his comment. when you do, it’s too late. he’s noticed your staring. 

“you don’t eat with me enough to know what i eat,” is your pathetic retort. “and you’re a cardiologist, not a dietician. get another degree and then we’ll talk.” 

zayne’s smile is small but victorious. he reaches for the mug on the table and shifts until he’s facing you, knees pointed at yours. 

then he starts unscrewing it. 

“your heart health is more dependent on your diet than almost anything else,” he says, voice low, almost teasing. “other than the aether core, of course.” 

the choice to unscrew the cap right at you, his knuckles moving deftly to twist off the lodged lid, that same center-vein and a few new ones appearing on his forearm. it’s so blatant you’re glaring incredulously at him by the time he offers it to you. 

zayne blinks a little after a moment of you ignoring him, hazel eyes looking a little concerned at your coldness. “it’s soup,” he offers. “not as warm as the rice, so you can hold it.” 

you lower your chin at him, brows low: “what are you doing?” 

it’s more of a statement than a question. and zayne (who’s been weaving this game all day, but now seems to be anxious), says- 

“i’m giving you this soup i made.” 

he sets it down on the table. 

“it’s just broth and some vegetables. protein would have been too much, you already have your chicken.” 

for a moment, you think you’ve gained the upper hand. but your eyes trail after his wrists as he sets the thermos down on the table and plucks the fork out of the rice, chicken still attached. 

one corner of his lip curls when he notices.  

zayne presents the fork to you. when you don’t accept, he cocks his head. 

“i came here to make sure you eat dinner and change your bandage,” zayne says. you’re not sure if it’s pure dishonesty; his voice is too difficult to read, as always. “i’m not sure why you’d refuse the food.” 

at that, you take the fork, and eat the bite off the end.  

“i’m not refusing the food,” you swallow. “and thank you. this was very kind of you. i’m...i’m really surprised, actually.” 

the mirth fades from his features. “surprised?” 

“i just assumed you weren’t going to call,” you add quickly, almost guilty over how suddenly his demeanor shifts. “it was getting late. i didn’t want to bother you.” 

“i told you i’d call,” zayne replies softly. “if i say i’ll do something for you, i will.” 

“you do have a good track record of that,” you reply. 

he nods. “i know i do.” 

gulp. you eat more of the rice, trying to occupy yourself. “this is very good. thank you.” 

“you don’t have to say it again. why were you so worried about me calling?” 

you peer at him, a ball of rice in your cheek. “i-” you murmur over the rice, and swallow quickly. “i wasn’t worried. well, i worried something might have happened to you, but it would have been fine if you didn’t call. you already gave me stitches for free.” 

“i’m your doctor,” is his reply. 

“you’re my cardiologist.” 

“primary care doctor,” zayne counters. and he leans forward, puts his elbows on his knees. he’s still a head taller than you. “are you averse to me caring about all the other parts of you?” 

you inhale sharply to try and hide the flush that bursts in your cheeks. the next time you swallow, he follows it; watches your throat bob.  

“no, i’m not averse,” is your stupid reply.  

he blinks slowly, like a cat. the smirk returns. “mm.” 

“mm,” you bite out, dropping the fork into the box of rice and pressing on the lid. “that was very g...you know i think it was good, but i’m not super hungry right now. i’ll put it away for later, unless you want some?” 

you busy yourself with gathering up the box and the mug, so by the time you steal another nervous glance at zayne, it’s the first time you’re seeing him tilt his head forward at you. the pools of his eyes see everything; it’s like he’s looking straight into your skull. 

“y/n,” he murmurs, slow.  

your own name shocks you. there’s no doubt in your mind that he’s not going to say anything else. it’s not just your name, it’s a question. 

he’s asking you what you want.  

and he’s ridiculously patient as you sit there, box of rice and thermos in hand, blinking like a dear in headlights. you think of chickening out. 

“can you help me change the bandage, please?” you nearly whisper. 

. . .  

“this cut is technically over your lumbar plexus. there’s a nerve here,” zayne continues. he drags the pad of his finger over the flesh between your hip and the curve of your waist, examining and admiring, like you’re a specimen. “obturator.” 

you’re practically ignoring him at this point; your head is swimming, your face is hot as an iron. “obfuscator.” 

he actually laughs, albeit softly. “obturator. with a ‘t’.” 

“yeah, that’s what i said.” 

you’re standing in front of the sofa, holding up the heavy bottom edge of your crewneck. zayne sits on the coffee table in front of you. his left hand traces over the right side of your belly, dances around the stitches he put in earlier. his right hand holds the waistband of your pajama shorts down; pins them to what’s nearly the middle of your thigh.  

you’re looking up at the ceiling, trying not to think about how much of the skin over your pelvic bone is exposed. you’re also trying to steal glances at zayne, who you’re certain isn’t really here, and must be a dream.  

even looking at him is too much, though. 

“you looked that up,” you whisper. “you’re a heart doctor, not a hipbone doctor. you looked up what those nerves were called in the parking lot before i came and got you, cuz’ you knew you were gonna do this.” 

“do what?” zayne wastes no time. 

“do...”  

well. you give up, not wanting to accuse him of seducing you out loud. 

he pulls your shorts up for a moment and grabs the ointment beside him. “this shouldn’t hurt,” he says softly. “i’m only putting it around the sutures, not on the cut. then i’ll put a new bandage on.” 

“okay,” you breathe. 

he pauses. looks up at you. “okay?” 

as in, are you okay? 

you muster up the courage to look down at him, not actually wanting to alienate him. if he left now, you’d absolutely start sobbing. 

“yeah, i’m okay. sorry.” 

“don’t apologize. hold still.” 

he spreads the ointment onto his fingers. like vaseline, it appears iridescent against the low-light of the television and the distant scape of linkon. you’re trying not to drool over the two fingers he’s placing over your hiphone when you remember. 

“your scars,” you say, softly, a little nervous. “were they accidents?” 

zayne stiffens. weighs his words. “essentially.” 

you nod, not wanting to press any further. “not that it matters-” 

you gasp as he starts to spread the ointment around the sutures; a barely-stinging, mostly-cold sensation fluttering like soft wings across your skin. his fingers are cold, not as cold as usual. he’s trying to keep them warm for you. 

“yes?” zayne murmurs.  

“not that it matters,” you continue, trying to steady your breathing. “but i think they’re beautiful. like tree roots.” 

zayne stops for a moment. inhales. you watch the breadth of his shoulders rise and fall until he continues working, circling the cut over your hip with glossy fingers. 

“do you?” he asks. almost a whisper.  

you furrow your brows at him, surprised to hear a hint of insecurity in his tone. once he secures a new bandage over the wound, you know you’ve waited too long to respond.  

“of course,” you manage.  

he looks up at you, then; narrow jaw angled expectantly, his jaw shut tight.  

“you like them?” he asks again, and his voice is darker than usual. 

god. 

you nod, unsure of how else to say it. “i like them,” you start. “i like...i like you, yes.” 

zayne watches you with such intensity you wonder if he’s trying to melt you down like iron. his fingers tighten on your waistband where he holds down the right corner of your sleep shorts; then he pulls that side down further, other hand coming down over the slope of your waist.  

he grips you. his palm ignites with ice; suddenly, extremely cold. you gasp. 

“you like me.” zayne challenges. 

“i like your scars,” you argue, but you can’t take it back. you’ve already said it.  

“you like both,” he replies. his palm smooths down your waist, then snakes around to your front. he places both hands flat to your belly. 

you let go of your crewneck, surprised, as he runs his hands up your front and then wraps them around your ribs, caging you in on either side.  

“there are nerves here, too,” he mumurs. he doesn’t have to lift his arms up much to reach you like this; he’s barely reaching up to begin with. “an intercostal.” again, his hands dip lower, equally soft and calloused. his thumb presses down right under your ribs. “subcostal.” 

“you’re making these up,” you huff, trying not to squirm, not to look too enraptured.  

“you were confident enough in my medical expertise to let me put stitches in you.” 

“well,” you breathe, “i trust you.” 

“you do?” zayne remarks, like he knows exactly how much you trust him; but maybe it astonishes him. “you do...” 

“this is your sacral plexus,” he says next, pressing two thumbs in just to the right of your navel. he goes lower, spreads his hands out; they fan like wings as they travel, colder and colder as he nears your pelvic bone. “obturator, again. this is lower, on your thigh; femoral.” 

“i’ve heard of the femur.” 

he stops to laugh. “you, are...” 

you laugh with him, because if you don’t, you’ll scare off; truthfully, you’re deeply afraid of him looking at you underneath your clothes. 

he senses this. 

“you don’t want me to look at you?” zayne asks, with genuine confusion. 

you look down at him. “no, it’s not that.” 

“it is. you’re afraid.” 

“not of you.” 

“of me looking at you,” zayne replies. he considers this, brows knit together in discontent. “you have no idea how many times i’ve thought about seeing you like this.” 

his voice is sanguine. this is new for him, too; you’ve both never been here.  

zayne looks up at you. he wants to see you, wants to touch you, wants you. 

his fingers curl over your waistband, but he stops. “yes or no?” 

you watch him, trembling under his gaze, under his grip. 

you can’t say it, but you nod. yes. 

he looks down instantly, propelled forward, but as he pulls down your shorts, revealing your panties; he seems more interested in your navel. zayne lifts your crewneck with one hand and lets your shorts fall, adjusting as you step out of them. one hand comes flat to your navel, the other runs across the thin fabric covering your heat.  

you inhale. the hand on your stomach flexes; small jolts of cold prick your skin.  

zayne watches goosebumps rise there. his mouth is open, you notice- just barely, like he doesn’t even know.  

“i don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he says, almost slurred. “the cold.” 

“no, no, it’s fine. i like it.” 

he flashes you what’s almost a glare, like it can’t be true. “another thing you like.” 

“if it’s you, i like-” 

he brushes the pad of his thumb over your clothed cunt; catches the hood of your clit. maybe he doesn’t notice at first, but when you jolt, he hums.  

“mmm,” he says. “what were you going to say?” 

“if it’s you i like all of it,” you ramble off, “anything. what are you doing?” 

“taking my time.” 

he presses his thumb to that same spot, now that he’s found it, and rubs circles. meanwhile, you bend backwards; he grabs your waist, steadies you upright, and drags his frozen palms up and down your hips. 

“you have to stand up straight, or you’ll tug on the stitches. that will hurt.” 

“i don’t...care.” 

“that’s only because you haven’t done it yet. hold still.” 

you look down at him, gasping as he presses a kiss to the flesh above your panties, next to your cut. his lips are soft, warm, unlike his hands; sheen from his own biting. he does it again, and when you jolt, his grip is firmer. 

“i won’t do anything to you if you’re going to tear your stitches,” zayne murmurs. 

he loops his fingers through the legs of your panties, pulls them down. you nearly shriek. 

“zayne!” 

he hasn’t looked down yet, yet; he’s looking into your eyes. “that would be malpractice. also, i can’t stand to hurt you. i won’t, actually- so please, hold still.” 

“it’s your fault i can’t be still.” 

“try harder.” 

when zayne’s gaze lands on your bottom half, naked, the goosebumps on your belly traveling to your cunt; you can tell that he’d been looking at you in the eyes not just to knock you off balance. he’d been preparing himself.  

you’d be naive to think he doesn’t know what to do next, but for a moment, you think he might not- his pupils are big as moons.  

“hold still,” he says again. this time, with fervor. “please, hold still.” 

he touches you like he’s going to work; like he’s been studying for this his whole life. he keeps one hand on your ribs (clearly obsessed with physically feeling your breath hitch) and runs his fingers up the inside of your thigh, opposite of the wound on your hip. 

zayne looks up at you once before dragging his finger through the center of your core. 

you gasp. 

he cocks his head, and grinds his jaw, icy fingers tightening around your ribs. “fuck.” 

he keeps exploring, but you’re so stunned to hear him curse, practically drunk just hearing him talk, that you’re too busy examining his stoic but somehow awestruck expression when he finds your clit with his thumb. 

“zayne,” you lean forward. 

his brows knit together a bit when you say his name, almost confusion, almost disbelief. “say it again, please-” 

he doesn’t have to ask, really; you gulp it out. “zayne...” 

he lurches forward and presses a kiss to your navel, almost harsh. it stops you from leaning forward too far, but you feel the tug on your stitches.  

“ouch,” you hiss. 

it’s too loud. zayne hears you; drops you immediately. you’re colder than you were with his hands on you. 

“did i hurt you?” he demands. 

you grab him, actually; take his hands back, put them where they were. 

“no, no- keep going, please, don't...” 

you don’t finish. he hears you; rubbing circles with his thumb into the bundle of nerves at the peak of your core. it’s the only finger he can use, technically, from where you’re standing, but something about it is insane.  

you’re so worked up about him touching you, breathing in and out like you’ve just come up from underwater; you forget how good it feels, how it will feel, once he finds- 

“hm,” you swallow, choking over a gasp. 

zayne doesn’t press harder; doesn’t speed up. “like this?” 

you nod. his sigh is audible, ragged. 

“you can say it, though, can’t you?” 

you blink down at him, cheeks burning. “y-yes, like this.” 

zayne growls, almost; softly, and digs his opposite fingers into your ribs. you’re not certain, but he may be feeling around for the best spot to feel your heartbeat. 

“there’s too many nerves here,” he rasps. “to name. but you’re not really thinking about that right now, are you?” 

“i like listening to you,” you choke out. 

zayne smirks. it’s a little broken, with how enraptured he is. “i thought you liked my hands.” 

“scars,” you retort. 

“that was a terrible deflection.” zayne removes his hand from your ribs, too fast, moves down and presses one finger to your heat, inside your folds; he tests it. “can i...” 

you lurch forward. he catches you, lets you drape over his shoulders. it was cruel of him to pretend you could stand the whole time, in the first place. 

“alright,” he rasps, one big hand rubbing the small of your back. “come here.” 

you half-stand, he half-pulls you to the sofa. a red streetlight beneath your apartment blears like a star through the window with the moisture gathering in your eyes. 

zayne helps you lay down, slowly; has you put your head on the armest, and your body in his lap.  

“this will be easier,” he says, smoothing his palm down your front. “try to lay flat.” 

you grind your hips into him, a little humiliated. zayne bucks up; drags a hand over his mouth, either equally humiliated or furious with you. 

he snakes his left hand underneath your crewneck and finds your nipple. he squeezes it, experimentally; you arch and he nods. 

“see? you have more room to move.” 

your nipples pebble under him as he moves about, letting his fingers crawl up to dip into the divot between your collarbones. he presses down there, leans into the ragged breath you take.  

“your hoodie,” he hums. “do you want to leave it on?” 

for a split second, you’re nervous to take it off. but when you lock eyes with him, and see how much he’s blinking, how desperate he is (despite pretending not to be) almost all of your insecurities vanish.  

you sit up, pressing into his lap to shrug off the crewneck. he’s hard underneath you- big. 

“oh, my god,” you whisper. 

“y/n,” he groans.  

zayne exhales sharply and gently cups the space between your shoulder and throat to push you back down. it dawns on you how strong he is, how easily he could throw you around. that, you think, is not in his nature. 

he presses his palm flat to the space between your breasts. you watch his eyes dart around, taking in every inch of your torso, of your now naked body on top of him.  

abruptly, he takes your clit with the pad of his finger again; but only for a moment, as he tests his middle finger at your center again.  

“there are nerves here, too,” he says darkly. “you don’t care about that anymore. can i?” 

you nod, practically shimmying down his lap to bring him closer. “yes, please, yes.” 

he dips one finger into your cunt, experimentally- but it’s easy. he slides the one finger in, and when you gasp, he takes his chance to slide in a second. you almost sit straight up. 

he starts pumping, excruciatingly slow. “do you have any idea how guilty i’ve felt?” 

you squirm, whining; he says nothing about it.  

“how many times you’ve come in to the office and not known i wanted to touch you like this? you come in for stitches on your hips, here,” he says, dragging his free hand down to ghost over the bandage. “i couldn’t believe it. and you had no idea i wanted you like this; it’s been agony.” 

“i did know,” you lie. 

“not entirely,” zayne presses, pumping faster in and out of you, “or you wouldn’t be so worked up.” 

his hands are so big, his fingers are so long; you can’t imagine being fuller than this. 

“zayne,” you whimper. it’s astonishing to you that you’ve ended up like this, but you can’t be bothered to care how you sound. 

he breathes deeply, like it’s sex for him every time you say his name.  

“you’ve wanted this,” zayne drawls. “how long?” 

“always,” you gasp. “a-always.” 

“fuck, y/n.” 

he picks up the pace one more time and you know this is it- he's determined, needs to see you cum. you squirm and writhe around in his lap, and his free hand follows every inch of it; smoothing up and down your body, but you’re almost certain he’s trying to rile you up more than he’s trying to soothe you. 

the coil in your stomach is tightens, taught like a string; you’re close.  

zayne leans down and presses a kiss to the shell of your ear.  

“i know everything about you,” he murmurs. “about your body. i know how your heartbeat feels; i’ve stitched you together. but this...is better than anything i could have imagined.” 

you cry out as you come undone, clenching around zayne’s fingers. he pulls you up into him, careful to keep your hips flat as he holds you to his chest. you bury your face in his neck, riding it out, his fingers still inside you.  

“do your stitches feel alright?” he hums.  

“shut u-up.” 

•✧•

if you know medicine and the nerves are wonky i'm begging you. remain quiet. thanks to ⚡ anon for requesting the first part of this!!! love u all!!

@lost-in-time-wanderer ur tag &lt;3

[zayneism]

zayne: random boyfriend texts !

: sometimes I write ooc things, forgive me if i do.

[espace--positif]

After Rain Comes Sunshine

A Zayne x Fem!Reader Fic [Love and Deepspace]

Summary: Zayne invites you to join him on one of his morning runs. Unfortunately (or fortunately), the weather has other plans for the two of you.

Pairing: Zayne x Fem!Reader

Content: Fluff, Pre-relationship, Slow Burn if you squint, MC Reader, Brief description of injury.

WC: ~3.7K

You stared at the figures on the report in front of you and they stared back in defiance. No matter how many times you plugged the numbers into the UNICORNS program’s interface, it returned either incomplete results or an error. You sighed in defeat and laid back in your chair, staring at the setting sun on the horizon.

Data analysis had never been your strong suit, and the inconsistencies brought on by abnormal Wanderer activity in the area did not make your temporary assignment any easier. The field suited you much better, but you had unfortunately been temporarily pulled from active duty after sustaining an injury while on a mission.

You’d been on nighttime patrol with one of the new Alpha Team recruits in an area where moderate Wanderer activity had been reported when both your watches picked up a large spike in energy fluctuations. Your regrettably green hunt partner had panicked and started blasting at the tree line at the tiniest sign of movement, and an opportunistic Wanderer had jumped at him. You’d pushed him out of the way of what certainly would’ve been a fatal blow, and the Wanderer’s gargantuan claw had embedded itself in your shoulder instead.

You thought that the earful that Captain Jenna had delivered to the poor recruit at debriefing was harsh, but you found that it was nothing compared to the treatment you’d received from Dr. Zayne when you reported to Akso Hospital.

“It’s not a big deal. You should’ve seen the other guy,” you’d tried to joke, lightly and nervously tapping your heel on the side of the examination table after he’d tended to your wound. Instead of the usual chuckle or crack of a smile Zayne would usually give you when you attempted humor, you were met with silence as he picked up a clipboard and busied himself writing. 

Ah, yes. You were dealing with ‘Dr. Zayne’ now.

“We, uh, we killed the Wanderer who did this. It was real bloody… is what I’m trying to-”

Your rambling was cut short when he paused his writing and looked up at you, his icy hazel eyes threatening to bore holes through your own.

“You’re not… angry, are you?” you chanced. Though he wasn’t the most outwardly expressive man in the world, even less so when he was in “Doctor” mode, you liked to think that you were attuned to his body language - the slight downturn of his lips, intensity in his eyes, and stiffness of his posture told you that he certainly wasn’t happy.

“I’m pulling you from duty. You’re to report back here in three weeks and I’ll see if you’re fit to be cleared for duty again,” he replied flatly, authoritative gaze still glued to you. You were no stranger to the strictness of the doctor’s orders, but three weeks was pushing it. This was some sort of punishment for your recklessness, you were sure of it.

“Three weeks? Isn’t that a bit much?” you asked while lightly rolling your freshly bandaged shoulder in an attempt to prove the levity of the injury.

Zayne narrowed his eyes, then proceeded to stow his pen into his white coat pocket, and you instantly knew that a hefty lecture was on its way.

“Exercising an injured muscle before it’s fully healed can lead to slowed healing and permanent damage. And next time, you’d do well to avoid being so reckless on the field. Come to think of it, perhaps a month of rest will be needed to ensure proper healing.”

And with that, he had shut down any possibility for a compromise, especially considering you didn’t have the expertise to dispute his diagnosis. Besides, when he got like this, you knew better than to argue, lest he extend your banishment from duty to an unreasonably longer amount of time.

—

This was a week and a half ago, meaning that you’d only served half your sentence. The worst part about being under such strict orders was how cooped up you felt. As perilous as your Alpha Team assignment was, you’d always enjoyed being able to visit different parts of the city, sometimes even venturing further. You’d often explore and find new restaurants and cafés to try out in the vicinity of your mission area on the way home.

But the best part about finding these new places was getting to share them with a certain someone who happened to share your passion for culinary experiences. You’d write down the most notable new place you’d discovered after each assignment in a new area, and it had become a sort of ritual for the both of you to visit and rate each place every weekend.

Ironically, that certain someone also happened to be your doctor, and he was the reason why you hadn’t partaken in your post-mission reward in a week and a half, even staying in last weekend. Sure, you could always initiate a weekend outing, but you hadn’t left your neighborhood in days, and your list of new places to try out was barren as a result. Just as you were considering whether you’d be able to bargain with Zayne to get cleared for duty earlier than scheduled, your phone chimed with a text notification.

It was as though he’d read your mind from a distance.

Good afternoon. How are you feeling?

Seizing your opening, you hastily sent back a message.

feeling good, my shoulder doesn’t hurt anymore. honestly! just feels stiff. but maybe I’m at risk for a vitamin D deficiency since I can’t go out to missions anymore :P

Three dots illuminated his side of the conversation, then swiftly disappeared. He wasn’t taking the bait. You furiously typed another message, this time going straight to the point.

well, as my doctor, don’t you think that’s concerning? maybe I can come by tomorrow and check if I can get cleared early haha

It was worth a shot, you told yourself, but your strategy could very well backfire seeing as off-duty Zayne was prone to responding to your half-jokes with equal amounts of seriousness and teasing, especially in your text conversations where the tone was constantly blurred. He might flat-out refuse, or even extend your suspension from duty just because you’d dared ask, and just because he could. But the dizzying figures side-eyeing you from your computer screen and the stale indoor air that had been your only companion for the past few days had evidently compelled you to risk it all.

His almost immediate answer blipped on your screen.

No.

Then three dots. You gulped.

But if you’re feeling cooped up, why don’t you join me for my morning run tomorrow? Running is a good way to get moderate exercise and won’t impact your shoulder healing at this point.

Your heartbeat quickened ever so slightly. Was Zayne really inviting you on one of his morning runs? He’d spoken about those like they were a ritual, and so the open and sudden invitation, though not unwelcome, was surprising. It wasn’t as glamorous as a restaurant outing, but it was an opportunity to spend time with him. And to touch some grass and breathe some fresh air, of course. Because that’s what this was about.

A smile crept up your face as you typed your reply.

yeah! that sounds good. see you tomorrow!

—

This is how you ended up lacing up your running shoes at the very crack of dawn, surrounded by nothing but the luscious greenery that framed the gravel path you stood on. You would have appreciated it much more if it wasn’t 5:45 AM and you had something to look forward to other than a grueling marathon.

Your eyes drifted towards your running companion, Zayne, who was completing a stretching routine a few feet away. You absently emulated his movements as your eyes caught onto his hulking arms, your gaze tracing every curvature of his taut muscles through the ribbed fabric of his black long-sleeve shirt.

Perhaps you did have something to look forward to after all.

He must have caught you staring, as his movements halted and you were met with a quizzical look. You quickly looked away, heat creeping up your cheeks, and looked for something to say, anything, to break the silence.

“So you run here every day, huh?” you said, almost too fast. “It’s beautiful, really.”

“Not every day,” Zayne’s deep voice echoed through the tranquil canopy of trees. “I usually run a circuit through the city, close to the hospital. But for today, I wanted to make sure you…”

He trailed off and you turned to face him once more. This time, he averted his eyes and seemed suddenly preoccupied with the nothingness in the tree line.

“Wanted to make sure I… what?” you prompted.

“Exposure to nature has been proven to be conducive to healing and improve patient outcomes.”

There it was, the familiar doctor-patient wall that Zayne would employ against you whenever either of you came close to acknowledging whatever it was that budded between the two of you. Yet you’d seen him chip away at it far too many times during your weekend outings, and you’d also been known to jump at any opportunity to deal some damage to it whenever you could. Even so, the status quo didn’t bother you, as long as it meant he would still be around. A permanent fixture in your life.

“Hmmm,” you hummed in response, trying to find a witty rebuttal. When the words failed you, you simply yelled out: “Well, improve this! Race you to the end!”

And with that, you dashed ahead, leaving Zayne behind, no doubt shaking his head at your antics.

—

Your amusement was quite short-lived, as your increasingly aching legs reminded you why you’d always hated cardio and prioritized strength training. You’d clearly bitten off more than you could chew, but you were also notoriously stubborn, and so your feet begrudgingly crunched on the gravel at a regular rhythm as Zayne matched your unrelenting speed, though he made it seem effortless.

“Sure you don’t want to slow down?” you heard him ask as he ran long strides beside you, not even remotely out of breath.

“Nope,” you huffed. Your stubbornness aside, you especially didn’t want to slow him down after he’d so graciously invited you into this part of his life. “Besides… we’re almost there… right?”

He let out a low chuckle. “Not in the slightest. We’re about halfway through the route.”

“Wha-” the sound of surprise escaped your lips before you could hold it in. At this point, the sun had completely risen, though roiling clouds had begun to obscure it. Surely you should have completed more than half of the run by now, right?

You’d clearly figured wrong. The drive that had been powering you through your unsustainable pace evaporated in an instant and you skidded to a halt. With your hands on your knees, you attempted to catch your breath and soothe the burning in your calves. Embarrassment be damned, this run was going to be the end of you if you didn’t take a break right this instant.

You felt a hand softly touch the small of your back, urging you forward.

“Don’t stop so suddenly, just keep walking and breathing.”

“R-right,” you managed between exhales.

You tried steadying your breathing as you both resumed walking, but the warmth of Zayne’s body against yours made the endeavor much harder than it had to be. His large hand remained on your back, gently guiding you forward and lightening the load on your sore legs. The cooling breeze that dried the beads of sweat on your brow was a welcome presence as you felt yourself feeling warmer and warmer by the minute.

After what felt like hours, your heart was thankfully no longer threatening to burst from your chest, and the painful ache in your legs had dulled. You discreetly looked up at Zayne only to find him scanning the tree line with a serious expression on his face. No matter where you went, he was always as alert and cautious as ever. You’d called him out on it once during one of your weekend outings, and he’d answered something ominous along the lines of “it’s better to be overprepared than taken off guard.”

Despite your teasing, however, his vigilance was always a welcoming sight. You could allow yourself to relax whenever the two of you were together - it was a far cry from the constant alertness your missions forced you to adopt. His presence alone made you feel safer than you’d ever care to admit, and his rare but soothing touches seemed to melt your worries away. In little moments like these, you were afforded the luxury of simply living in the present.

Your steps became light as your attention drifted to a patch of bright blue and purple flowers that neatly adorned the upcoming bend in the path, perfectly framing it on both sides, and you realized that this was nice. The breeze lightly grazed your skin and you were thankful for its refreshing chill until it suddenly picked up and that very chill began to creep into your bones. You unconsciously inched closer to Zayne, your head pressed up against the side of his chest.

“We should head back,” he said, voice warmly rumbling against your ear. “It looks like it might…”

Raindrops slowly plipped and plopped against the gravel, grass, and leaves. Zayne halted both your movements and held his free hand up, as if to gauge the magnitude of the rain that would follow. He didn’t need to keep it up long, as the rain quickly escalated to a downpour, violently drenching you both in an instant.

You stared at the wet ground in disbelief. You normally didn’t mind the rain, but this was more than just rain - it was a veritable storm. And now your run would definitely have to be cut short. So much for a nice moment.

The two of you resumed your run, this time in the opposite direction, headed towards the forest’s entrance. The brief respite you’d just concluded evidently hadn’t done much to regenerate your energy and vigor, as you found yourself lagging behind Zayne as the rain and wind buffeted your body. Your legs burned once more, and you cursed yourself for pretending to stretch while ogling your running partner earlier instead of actually stretching.

You slowed to a halt, trying to give your legs a break, but knowing very well that once you stopped it’d only get harder to get moving again. But while a little bit of rain wouldn’t kill you, keeping up this pace when you’d already foolishly spent all of your energy in the first half of your run very well might.

You figured you should tell Zayne not to wait for you, that you’d catch up eventually, and inhaled sharply so your voice would carry from your crouched form through the roaring storm. But before you could utter a word, two strong arms nestled against you and you were suddenly staring at the lopsided tree line. Zayne had deftly scooped you up and resumed jogging without skipping a beat.

You instinctively braced yourself by placing your palm on his chest and looked up at him, bewildered. It took you a moment to compute what was happening, but once you did, heat warmed your face despite the chilling rain and wind.

You began to protest. “Zayne, you don’t need to… I can just catch up with you!”

“This forest will flood with the two of us in it if we keep up with your pace,” he replied, light mirth permeating his voice.

You huffed. Your arrogance and poor performance at cardiovascular exercise had been noted and you’d likely never hear the end of it - as serious and stern as Zayne presented himself, he’d always remember the smallest details when they presented an opportunity to tease you later on. Still, in an attempt to save the remainder of your dignity, you pressed on.

“No, but, you’ll get tired carrying me around!”

“It’s nothing. If anything, I’ll get to finish my workout,” he said, wet strands of dark hair dancing along to the rhythm of his light jog.

And thus, you resigned yourself to being carried out of the very workout you’d signed up for. When enough of your embarrassment had fizzled away, your mind began to drift away from the downpour and hone in on the steady thumping of Zayne’s heartbeat, which you could feel vibrating through your palm and reverberating throughout your whole body. The unwavering, rhythmic beats drew you to that same sense of safety you’d felt earlier, and so many times before. You found that the rain and the cold didn’t bite as harshly when you focused on the warmth of his body, the strength of his heartbeat, and the steady yet light bounce of his footsteps.

And eventually, you found that you’d stopped caring about the weather altogether.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

—

By the time you finally rejoined civilization, the rain had let up to a light drizzle. You’d found refuge in a small café, one of the first you’d visited together ever since starting your weekend tradition. At this time of day, it was luckily not too busy. They’d graciously offered you a table even though you were sopping wet, and you busied yourself drying off as best as you could with the copious amount of paper towels the server had offered you while Zayne ordered warm drinks for both of you.

When he returned from the counter with two cups in hand, soaking wet, hair still dripping, you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. The juxtaposition of this man’s calm demeanor with his disheveled appearance, combined with the ridiculous circumstances amused you to no end.

Zayne raised an eyebrow. “What is it?” he asked as he placed down the cups.

“Nothing. It’s just…” you scoured your brain for a way to get back at him for his comments on your pace earlier. “You’d think a man would check the weather before going on a run, you know?”

A hint of a smile played on his lips, and he sighed in mock exasperation as he sat across from you. “And you’d think a hunter would be able to run for more than five minutes in a row,” he quipped back. “Am I going to have to add mandatory cardiovascular training to your health plan?”

You definitely would never hear the end of this.

You threw your hands up, feigning defeat. “Fine, fine. I’ll manage my pace better next time.”

You grasped your cup, the warm ceramic soothing your freezing hands. “But I’m just surprised that someone like you could just get caught out in the rain like that. Didn’t you once tell me about how being overprepared is the key to all your problems or something like that?”

“‘If you’re not overprepared, you’re underprepared,’ was the quote,” he replied as he slicked back his wet hair. You shifted your gaze to the ripples in your cup to stop yourself from staring. “And you’re right, I should’ve looked at the forecast before I dragged you out there. Or at the very least, I should have stuck to my normal route. We likely would’ve found shelter faster. I’m sorry, it’s my fault we ended up like this.”

“No, you have nothing to apologize for!” you replied hastily. “I didn’t mean to imply that at all. I had fun today, and I got to breathe some fresh air, get some exercise in… I’m gonna be honest, even though it rained on our parade, I’m really glad you invited me to run with you.”

You beamed as you finished your sentence, unable to hide your genuine contentment. You meant every word of it. In contrast to the gloomy weather outside, your mood had been brightened by this ordeal. As strange as it sounded, you were almost glad for the rain which had brought you closer together in more ways than one.

Zayne’s intense gaze settled on you, as if he was trying to read your mind. This time, you didn’t look away. “Is that so?” he started. “Then allow me to be honest as well. I neglected to look at the weather forecast because I just wanted to get you out of your apartment. You sounded pent up, and I wanted to cheer you up.”

You felt a comfortable warmth settle within you, and you knew you couldn’t ascribe it to the coffee alone. “Thank you,” you replied, ignoring the heat that was surely visible in your cheeks. “I was pent up. Data analysis was driving me crazy, I hadn’t left the house in days since my assignment is remote, and I missed you.”

Perhaps you were feeling a little too comfortable, for you blurted out the words without thinking. Well, it was too late now. You clumsily took a sip from your cup and set it back down with an unceremonious clang.

“I missed you too,” he replied, voice gentle and low. When you peered up from your cup to face him, he suddenly seemed more interested in the weather again, looking out the window at the slowly clearing skies. He cleared his throat unceremoniously and continued: “I missed the opportunity to discover another restaurant with you this past weekend. My palate has come to expect variety every Saturday, you know.”

You smiled as you freely took in his flustered expression, a rare occurrence for the brilliant and ever-composed Dr. Zayne. You greedily gulped your coffee before it got cold, and reminded him to do the same, which seemed to push him back to his normal level of composure. The two of you spent the remainder of the morning excitedly discussing the culinary potential of your next mission destination in another week and a half.

Tonight, as you reminisced on the day’s events, you could rejoice, for the wall that neither of you had built but both of you had reluctantly maintained over the years had lost another brick. It wouldn’t be long before it crumbled to dust entirely, of that you were sure. In the meantime, you’d gladly content yourself with living in the present, in the moment, in the warmth and safety of Zayne’s unwavering presence.

Note: Hello! I can’t believe my first fic in YEARS is for a game I started playing 4 days ago, but L&DS and Zayne have literally taken over my life so I had no choice. This is also my first 'x reader' fic EVER so I’m kinda nervous, but I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Thank you to @pmpmyread for proofreading!

[mothwingwritings]

Cherished Gift

F!Reader X Zayne (Love And Deepspace)

Look, I know this is coming out of left field but I did not want to let my husband Zayne Love and Deepspace’s birthday pass by without at least trying to write/post something. I hustled to get this out, it’s truly probably the quickest I have written something lol. It’s little and a bit rushed, but I hope you all enjoy!!! AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY ZAYNE! It’s all about you today, my Virgo king! <3

Warnings: NSFW, Mentions of sex and sexual themes so 18+ ONLY PLEASE!!! Other than that, it’s all just fluff and love my darlings! <3 There is very little editing, though.

Witnessing an uncomposed Zayne was a very rare sight. His default state was to be the stoic and stern doctor, exhibiting a frosty countenance and no-nonsense demeanor that would make anyone in his presence want to instantly be on their best behavior. It was such a natural state for him that it often aggravated you, as you felt that his outward presentation kept so many people from getting to know the true Zayne, and what a loving, giving, warm person he actually was. 

But currently, that grim doctor was nowhere to be found. In his place was a blissed out, disheveled mess, half clothed and panting as he lounged in his plush recliner. Sweat made his hair stick to his flushed forehead, his red tinted cheeks making him look almost cherubic were it not for the fire that smoldered in his emerald eyes, and throbbing dick still buried deep inside of you.

Even in his post coitus haze, his eyes never once left your form. He drank you in with as much interest now as he had while you were writhing and bouncing on his cock, maybe even more so now that he wasn’t completely lost in the thralls of pleasure. Though you were pleased with your work, you couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed by his unwavering attention, especially considering that Zayne wasn’t the only one left in such a sloppy state.

The lingerie set you had purchased especially for his birthday celebration had long since been discarded (it was incredible really, just how quickly the skimpy fabric gave way to his feverish hands), and your makeup and hair that you had fretted over for hours  was now nothing more than a smeared mess and chaotic tangle. Part of you wanted to dismount him right away and run to the restroom to freshen up, take a moment to remove the saliva and bits of cum that still lingered around your lips from your first go around with him. But you couldn’t find yourself pulling away from him, and minor embarrassment aside, Zayne did not appear to care how filthy you looked. His eyes still held on to you with such wanton reverence that you couldn’t help but blush, drinking in your unkempt appearance with a warmth that made your heart melt.

After several moments of silence that were broken only by the rasps of your choppy breathing, you felt him start to soften inside of you. The hands you had planted firmly on his chest noticing his heart beat steady, the electric energy buzzing in the air during your love making diminishing into a pleasant aura of peace.

Slowly, you climbed off him, his hands reluctantly falling from your waist as you did so. With a wave of your hand you motioned him to scoot over, which once done, you nestled beside him, burrowing yourself into the crook of his arm. He wrapped the limb around you tightly, keeping you pressed firmly to his side as he planted a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

Once you had settled in, you spoke up. “So,” a playful lilt tinged your voice as you looked up at the man holding you so lovingly, “How would you rank your birthday thus far? It at least has to be better than working, right?”

He answered with a pleased hum, “This is the best birthday I have ever had. I’ve been completely spoiled.” His hand traveled to your head, lazily massaging his fingers against your scalp, “But you may have created a monster. Now I am going to start expecting this treatment every birthday.”

 You giggled, “Lucky for you, this is only the tip of the iceberg! I’ll spoil you rotten for every one of your birthdays if you let me~”

It was Zayne’s turn to laugh, a small smile creeping across his lips, “Are you just trying to get me indebted to you?” He scrubbed your head, giving you another chaste kiss, “Because there is no need, you won’t ever have to bribe me for my affection. Everything I have I give to you freely. Your presence alone is enough of a treat, and your love is a gift I will forever cherish.”

“Zayne,” snuggling your face closer to his chest, you hoped to hide the deep crimson brought on by his earnest admission, “… I could spend hours talking and never be able to explain how much you mean to me. Words shy in comparison to the depths of my feelings, but… I love you. I will always love you, Zayne.”

With your heart felt confession lingering in the air, you spent the next several minutes glued to each other’s side in a comfortable silence. As you watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest, your eyes began to grow heavy, the exertion of the day’s prior activities finally catching up to you. While you were swiftly being carried off to dream land, you felt Zayne  moving beside you. The lack of warmth made you crack your eyes, your sleepy gaze watching as he repositioned himself atop you.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead, “I was going to take you to bed so you could sleep more comfortably.”

You rubbed your eyes, shaking your head a bit. “No, it’s OK. I am glad you woke me up. I don’t want to spend the rest of your birthday sleeping, I want to spend it with you.”

He smiled at the innocent delivery of your words, “Well if a nap is out of the question, why don’t we start getting cleaned up for dinner?”

You gave a nod of approval, sitting up to stretch your weary body. Arching your back and extending your arms, the cool air on your exposed skin caused you to shiver slightly, goosebumps forming across your chest and arms at the sensation. Feeling a bit more spry now that you were loosened up, you started to shimmy your way off the seat, but Zayne’s body blocked your path, barring you from moving any further. “Zayne…?”

Fire was coming back to his eyes as he watched you move, answering your inquiry with a kiss to your lips. What started out as a peck soon grew in ferocity, hungry lips moving against yours with a passion you were desperate to match.

“Zayne,” you breathed in between his relentless assault, “I thought you said we were going to get cleaned up? I’m kind of gross right now, and we have a reservation, so we have to get ready to leave soon.”

“We have time,” he cut you off gently, planting a kiss to the tip of your nose, “and you are brilliant, even all mussed up. In fact, I find you exceptionally lovely right now knowing that I was the one that brought you to such a state.”

Your body flushed as he continued his attack, skilled hands trailing the length of your body, caressing you so gingerly you couldn’t help but careen your body towards him, seeking out more. “So beautiful,” he whispered against your neck, “Every part of you is breathtaking, (Name). Let me enjoy you.”

“But it’s your birthday, not mine …” Your voice trailed off as he nipped at your breast, biting down just hard enough to leave a lasting mark. You whimpered as he then kissed the tender flesh, your reaction causing a small, mischievous smile to form on his face.

“I know,” his soft voice murmured against your chest as he continued trailing his lips down your body, “Which is precisely why I know you won’t deny me my favorite gift of all, correct? The best way to make me feel good is to let me make you feel good in return.”

You smiled sheepishly at him, moving your hands to gently cup his face, “Well, I guess I can’t deny the birthday boy on his special day, can I?” You sighed, tracing your thumb gently across the apple of his cheek, “I love you.”

He turned his head, leaving a kiss on your palm, “I love you, too.”

[crispin-kreme]

cause in this city's barren cold,

i still remember the first fall of snow

and how it glistened as it fell

i remember it ...

ALL TOO WELL . . . ZAYNE

notes: truth of a break up- angst no comfort. self indulgent because im struggling to move on atp

snow fell upon linkon city. the cold weather reminds you of someone, reminds you of something. you know to yourself you shouldn't even try to remember him. you shouldn't be remembering your past with zayne.

the cold was a significant weather for you and zayne. for you, the cold reminded you too much of your former lover. for zayne, he remembers you as snow fell onto his windowsill.

you had the most dreamy relationship with zayne. a doctor who loved you so dearly- so much that it choked you at a point. you loved him, you adored him so much.

but fate wasn't on your side– you had to separate one way or another. you left him, god that was a sin for you. you fought one stormy night. maybe both of you were stressed, both of you were riled up because you guys were tired. maybe you shouldn't have pushed him away, maybe you shouldn't have pushed his buttons.

zayne was willing to keep you after the argument but you left a message saying that you've made up your mind to part ways. you started feeling lonely anyways with him.

and that feeling as it snowed, it was so familiar, you remembered it all too well.

zayne's cold hands, eyes, his evol, all that crap. but his words were warm- they were so warm.

as snow fell on your clothes as you passed by akso hospital– you and zayne lock eyes.

the feeling came back, you feel your surroundings slow down, your heart getting weak or just thumping hard. zayne breaths hitches.

you never knew his side. maybe he was casually looking at you. all you know is, he doesn't care. he doesn't bother at this point.

so, you avert your gaze and you continue walking away. you continue as you walked with a heavy heart, with your chest filled with unsaid words, with your eyes brimming with tears. you just wished he cared, hm?

you need to move on– that's all you have to know.

[kissedcloud]

#2

[strwberri-milk]

Can i request lnd boys talking it through with us during readers first time 🥰 soft praises and reassurance 🥰🥰

im gonna do a thing where its just. what he's gonna say to you bc the act itself is p standard - def missionary and him being so so so gentle with his movements to prevent hurting you + lets him watch every expression you make - this is also just making me realise how like. my dialogue for smut really doesnt change too much omg they sound so similar erfeafoaf

His focus is primarily on your your face the whole time, looking at you intensely with every movement of his hips. He doesn't want to hurt you so he's going to take it slow, holding your hands as he gently whispers praise at you.

"You're doing perfectly for me. Yes, just like that."

"You feel perfect wrapped around me like that. I don't think I'll be able to last long. Hmm? No, that's a good thing. It means you're doing good."

"Please - just a little longer. I'm almost there."

"Don't hide your noises. I need to know if you feel as good as I do."

Xavier is very hands on. He's holding you tightly, keeping you in place as much as he can despite your squirming. His pace is unintentionally teasing, long slow grinds as he really savours every movement of his body against yours.

"No, I promise I won't hurt you. I'll take good care of you, I promise."

"You're so warm - I don't know how long I can hold back."

"Look at me. I want to see what faces you make."

"Just a little bit more. I know you can do it."

Rafayel is so sensitive to your touch - more than you ever thought he could be. He's always been receptive but the way he's acting right now, face buried in your neck as he slowly fucks you really takes the cake. You can't escape his presence at all - he's holding you tightly as he absolutely devours you.

"Don't look away from me - I've been dreaming of this moment for far too long."

"You - don't do that - I want to take my time with you."

"I need you so bad. Please don't hold back."

"Yes - yes, just like that. Keep going - you feel so good."

Sylus seems like he'd be rough with you but when you finally end up in his bed he's holding onto you tightly, keeping you pressed against his chest as he showers you in kisses. He loves everything about you and he really wants to make sure you know that.

"Yes kitten, just like that. I knew you could do it."

"Don't worry if you get tired. I told you I'll take care of you."

"Just lay back for me. You don't have to do anything - I'll make sure you feel good, I promise."

[ilovemitsuya]

the way he hugs and carries mc..

[odoraful]

𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐄𝐘𝐄

it was one of the few days zayne had returned home earlier than sunset. he opened the door to the apartment to find you painting your nails. after a shower and some short pleading on your part, he was seated in front of you, hands laid out on the table for you to do his nails.

content: zayne x fem!reader; established relationship; small banter! ; greyson apperance; ~1k words a/n: i've been dipping in and out of writing, so i thought i'd make something short to get me back into practice :)

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“Hand tremors aren’t good for dexterity, you know,” Zayne quipped, gazing at your expression as you applied the polish.

You looked up at him through your lashes and he smirked at the flat stare you gave him. With a slight tilt of his head, he enjoyed how animated your reactions were to his remarks. Towel-dried hair brushed past his brows, framing his discerning hazel eyes. Did he always need to be this handsome while poking fun at you? Your hands weren’t shaky before, but they certainly felt so now.

“Oh hush.”

Putting the brush back in the bottle to collect more polish, you reset your focus.

“Just ‘cause you’re a surgeon, doesn’t mean you’d make a good nail artist,” you retorted, bringing your eyes back to your work.

You were currently on the last nail, painting it a navy blue to match the others you already finished. Zayne’s nails were well kept and trimmed short, making for a perfect canvas for you. Whilst it was rare for surgeons to wear polish, he assured that it wouldn’t be an issue so long as it did not chip. He wanted you to do it for him, anyway. Having your undivided attention on him was a perfect way to unwind after a long day at the hospital.

“And what other qualifiers need to be met besides a still hand?” he asked, teasing giving way to curiousity.

You finished up the last nail with a few glides of the brush. “An eye for aesthetics,” you declared, moving the blue nail polish aside and selecting two more colours among your collection.

“Now, pick the colour for the design.”

You presented two colours to him. A cool silver embedded with fine glitter, and a rustic gold. His eyes flicked between the two. Mind having been made up almost the second you asked.

“Silver.”

You hummed. “An excellent choice.” Shaking the polish, the glitter dispersed throughout. “Perhaps you might consider nail tech as a side job, Dr Zayne.”

Waiting for his nails to dry before you could begin the next layer, you lightly fanned them with both your hands. He chuckled—both at your comment and your cute attempt to try and speed the drying process.

“My primary job keeps me busy enough,” he replied. “Besides, I don’t have much of an eye for aesthetics.”

You were reminded of the palette of his closet. Blacks, greys, browns, and the only splash of colour being a deep green shirt. Though somewhat monotone, it did suit him well.

He continued, “I think I’ll leave that expertise up to my girlfriend.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Mouth opened ever so slightly, not wanting to reveal the way every use of that nickname slipped under your skin and made your heart skip.

You began to draw tiny snowflakes on each of them with the silver polish. Zayne admired the furrowed concentration on your face as you were locked into this task. When the design had dried, you finished by squeezing some cream onto his hands. He let out a soft sigh as you massaged it in, feeling the tension of the day release under your gentle touch.

Once you were done, you stretched your arms out and twisting around to crack your back. You held his fingers in your hands, inspecting them.

“Look how pretty they are!” You bubbled.

Zayne was honestly floored. The level of coordination it took to paint something so small was incredible.

“They’re very pretty indeed.”

You were too enthralled by your own work to see the warm smile on his face at how satisfied you were.

“Now, that’ll be sixty dollars,” you said, looking up at him smugly, placing your hands on your hips in waiting.

Zayne lifted a brow. “Do you accept payment in desserts?”

“Hm… an interesting offer,” you placed a hand on your chin in mock thought. “What kind?”

“Will each flavour of macaron at the shop that just opened suffice?” he replied. The sparkle in your eyes signalled that it was more than enough to cover the cost of your service. Promptly, the two of you went outside to resolve his payment. You walked hand in hand, matching one another with freshly painted nails.

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EPILOGUE

At Akso Hospital the next day, peoples’ gazes lingered a little too long at Zayne. As he handed out folders to nurses and gestured to screens when presenting, eyes trailed on his hands. Now, it wasn’t unusual for doctors to wear polish, but it was unusual for Zayne to have it. Another layer of mystery to unravel about the cardiac surgeon.

Greyson entered Zayne’s office to drop off some documents, sliding them towards him on his desk. “Going to some fancy event later?”

Zayne adjusted his glasses, not looking away from his computer screen. “Unless you consider a seminar at the university as fancy, I’m not sure what you’re implying.”

He gestured towards the keyboard Zayne was typing on. “I’m talking about your nails! Don’t tell me you really just got them done for fun?” Greyson asked, incredulous.

“I did.” Zayne splayed his hand out. “Is that so strange?”

“No! Not at all!” Greyon reassured, shaking his head fervently. “They do look nice though,” he admitted. “Maybe I should get their number so I can get mine done too.”

“She doesn’t take up new clientele, unfortunately,” Zayne said, resuming his typing.

At such a quick defence, Greyson immediately clocked who this person was. He was one of the few that were privy to the relationship between you and Zayne, and he knew only you could make Dr Zayne change up his style.

Exaggerating a sigh, he turned to leave. “A true shame! She sure seems talented.”

“I’ll make sure to pass that on to her,” he heard Zayne reply. Though his back was to Zayne, the smile in his voice as he answered was undeniable.

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[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS: Glowdicks | 18+ Crack Fic

This started off as a joke with @anxiousgoddest and then I began talking to @zayne-li and decided I had to do it. I had to write it. If I didn't write these men's dicks breaking due to riding them too hard, who was gonna do it? That's what I thought. Nobody. So here we are.

❧ Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. ❧ Warnings: Riding, Unsafe Sex, Injuries, Surgeries, Dick Fractures ❧ Pairings: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

The fiasco all started because you decided you wanted to be riding Xavier instead of letting him bend you over this time.

You were going to town on his dick to the point where you couldn’t even feel your legs anymore and he had already cum once and you weren’t aboutta stop for anything.

Literally nothing could pry you away from his dick right now. 

At least you thought, but you decided to try a new move where you clamped down hard on his dick like a vice. He was moaning underneath you from how tight you had managed to get.

Then you freaking slipped when he thrusted up into you, your hips moving along with it.

The moment you heard the crack noise it was like everything else in the room stilled.

In Xavier’s defense, the only noise that left him was a gasp instead of a scream like one would expect.

You just made eye contact with him and his eyes were wide as all hell. You were both scared of the moment you slid off his dick and saw the results of what you just did.

You slowly got up and his dick slid out of you with a wet noise and you looked down and…well it certainly wasn’t supposed to look like that.

You both had a moment of silence for his broken dick, just staring at it. Honestly you were expecting it to be glowing with how it sounded and his evol. Almost disappointing it wasn’t.

Then he just sighs and looks up at you.

“I mean…I guess these things happen,”

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS SHIT HAPPENS XAVIER?! HOW OFTEN DOES YOUR DICK BREAK?! WHO ELSE IS RIDING YOUR DICK?!

You just kept staring at it and back at him. How wasn’t he screaming in pain right now? You think you’d be a sobbing mess at this point.

“Sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be able to go for any more rounds tonight. Did you want to sit on my face instead?”

“Xavier, you need medical attention.”

“I’ll just sleep it off, it’ll be fine,”

You’re already getting up to get ice packs and googling what to do if your dick breaks. All your research is saying he needs to go to the hospital and seek medical attention and possible surgery is needed in most cases.

You walked back in the room with the ice pack and phone in hand and you drop them both when you see Xavier snapping it back into place.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT?!”

Xavier just looks at you like a puppy who’s being scolded and frowned.

“It’s fine, it’ll heal probably in a day or two, don’t worry about it. You know I heal fast.

You want to cry because who let this man into society? Who allowed him to walk around common people? He just snapped his dick back into place. There’s no way that would work.

Well it did, because in two days he was grabbing you as you tried leaving the bed in the morning, telling you that he was feeling better and wanted to make up for lost time.

You just didn’t want to ride him for a couple weeks after that, and you decided to stop doing kegel exercise after that. It wasn’t worth it.

Zayne

You had been riding him on the damn rocking chair again. After the first time you decided you really liked it since it did some of the work for you. His hands were on your hips and he was just letting you control the pace.

You had squeezed down hard on his cock, pushing the chair back in the same motion. Then the chair kept going back. And then it was falling back. Then suddenly you were on the ground.

Don’t worry his dick was still inside of you though, but he was groaning in pain, letting out a hiss. He was gasping for breath for a moment. 

You had thought you heard a crack during your fall, but thought it had been the couch breaking or part of the fall. Oh no. Sadly that was just wishful thinking.

"Hold on, wait--oh fuck get off, right now,"

Oh that was a very pained voice as you got off his dick and looked down. Your eyes widened as you realized his dick didn’t normally look like that. You had a moment of silence for his now broken dick as he managed to still lift you up and placed you on the normal couch.

He went to the restroom and of course you followed him like a little duckling as he began inspecting the damage. You heard a long sigh coming from him and he turned to you since he could see you in the mirror.

“We need to go to the hospital,”

“It is like…broken?”

“It’s been fractured. I’ll need to run some scans to see how severe the damage is. I need you to drive me.”

You both hopped into the car and got to the hospital. Yvonne had greeted you two and mentioned Zayne not being scheduled today. He was just looking down and beelining to his office. You gave her an apologetic look since the woman was clearly confused.

He made you stay in his office as he went about doing tests on himself and looking over all the damage.

When he came back to the hospital he looked absolutely horrified as he told you it would require surgery to fix. He seemed to be thinking long and hard about it and then just let out another sigh.

“I’ll take some pain medication and just do it myself,”

UM I’M SORRY SIR, WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY? YOU’RE GONNA PERFORM SURGERY ON YOUR OWN DICK?!

You’re already texting Greyson about the situation and about how your boyfriend is so mortified that his dick was broken during sex that he was going to deadass perform surgery on himself.

Greyson sent a few laughing emojis as well as the purple eggplant one, asking if he looked like this right now. He did. Your poor boyfriend looked like the eggplant emoji right now.

Greyson came into the office shortly after and told Zayne he’d get the surgery handled and Zayne looked at you in absolute betrayal, but like hell you were about to let this man perform surgery on your favorite riding implement.

“It was either I contacted Greyson, or Dr. Noah. Your choice,”

He shut up after that and after his surgery you could hear the whisperings about how you broke Dr. Li’s dick.

Yvonne also heard and came over to ask you about what happened and you didn’t skimp out on any of the details.

When you got to the room he was staying at to recover he was just glaring at you like a mad cat, clearly betrayed. He’d get over it. At least his dick would still be working after this.

Also you had a few doctors asking you if you needed a wheelchair for some odd reason. You couldn’t figure it out.

After the incident he wasn’t letting you ride him on the couch. Claiming it was ‘Too dangerous’.

Rafayel

Rafayel decided he wanted to fuck you against a wall, which wasn’t super uncommon. When he got in the mood he would take you just about anywhere he could. The wall, the table, over the podium in an empty lecture hall before he was supposed to give a speech about art.

If he could fuck you on it, then he would. Whenever he got riled up all normal thoughts were gone and he was all over again.

So right now he had you pinned up against the front door of the art studio because you decided to tease him all night. He had to stop himself from fucking you in the ride back home. He almost pulled over by the ocean and took you over one of the rocks.

Everything was going fine, you were so damn wet just from the thought of him fucking you that his dick was able to slide in easy.

You squeezed down on his cock and tried moving your hips, but apparently he was changing angles at the same time.  There was that crack that nobody wanted to hear mid fuck.

You both went down on that, Rafayel in pain and you because he dropped your ass onto the floor.

His hand was between his legs as he hissed and when he looked at his dick he literally gasped and looked up at you.

“Call me an ambulance,”

What do you MEAN?! LET US HAVE A LOOK WHAT HAPPENED BRO?!

You looked down and your only thought was the image of the eggplant emoji. Anyways, you called an ambulance for him because you were both freaking out at this point. His dick was broken. You broke his dick.

The ride to the hospital was filled with your horrified faces and the EMTs looking at the scene completely amused. Thankfully you had the decency to put your damn pants back on and tried covering Rafayel’s decency.

When you got to the hospital they were doing scans and stuff and then you were told he’d need surgery. Like right away.

You had called Thomas to let him know Rafayel would be needing a few days off. When he asked you and you had to tell him you literally counted the seconds he was sighing. It was ten. He was sighing for ten seconds straight. He just told you to let him know how long the recovery would be once you found out.

When he got out of surgery you were already walking into the room, only to see him surrounded by a few nurses.

Man was high as a kite and bragging.

“Okay but has your partner ever broken your dick before because of how good it was? No? I didn’t think so.”

Really you should’ve taken that as a sign to leave, but you had stayed and when he saw you he was so loopy and stretching his arms out wanting you to hold him.

You recorded him. When he was sober and home and you showed him the recordings of him wanting to cuddle, and bragging about how good you were. He was trying to lunge at you to delete it. You threatened to break his dick again and he shut up.

Sylus

He was fucking you hard into the mattress and you couldn’t feel your legs anymore. Like absolutely numb with how they were tossed over his shoulders at the moment.

You couldn’t even speak as you were so fucked out from this entire thing, and you needed a damn breather. You don’t even know how many times you had cum at this point.

You had also forgotten the safeword and signal, not that you could speak at the moment. Still the signal would’ve been nice to remember in your fucked out brain.

He pressed deeper in you and you didn’t know how to verbalize you needed a moment or respite. Sylus had seen the look in your eyes though like you were pleading with him.

He was about to pull out, but you decided in that exact moment that you would squeeze down on him painfully to show you needed a second.

Well with both movements and how he was angled there was a nice snap that echoed in the room.

You had heard the gasp and pained groan coming from him. It was pretty fucking loud and he let out a hiss.

You were still out of it as you felt him pull out of you completely. The only thing you were focused on was getting your breathing back to a normal rate.

Sylus'lips were on you trying to get you to come back to him and finally you were getting coherent enough to finally speak.

“What was that snapping noise?”

“That was my cock, sweetheart,”

That was a confusing thing to say and your eyes drifted down between his legs, but he was cupping your chin and forcing you to look up at him.

“I didn’t say you could look at it, sweetie,”

That damn purr sent a shiver down your spine and you let out a whine. He just chuckled at your response though because high key it was amusing that you were upset that you couldn’t see his broken dick.

“Next time you want me to stop, you should let me know before snapping my cock,”

Okay listen, first off, if you could you would’ve. It’s not your fault that the man’s dick game is a 10/10 and you couldn’t think straight at the moment.

“Do we need to go to the hospital?”

“Did I need a hospital trip when you shot me?”

Okay, touché. Still you felt bad. You had just snapped his dick and he was acting so casually about it right now. Doesn’t that hurt?

Instead of acknowledging the pain he just went to work cleaning you up instead and then curling you up to his chest to go to bed.

By the morning his dick was apparently back to normal though as he was pressing it against your ass while he was spooning you.

“Don’t break it this time, alright?”

You’re not gonna lie, the moment he said that you were damn tempted to do it again out of sheer spite.

I'd like to say I'm still working on the Mermaid Rafayel smut, however took a short mini break in order to write this to help clear my mind. I'm 8k into the other fic and we haven't even gotten to the smut so ya...it'll be another long one. Hope you enjoyed reading about braking their dicks tho.

[glitter-epoch]

Hiii, always love to see people obsessing over love and deepspace (bc I'm addicted too), can I please request zayne fic about his hands and fingers? Can be suggestive, can be pure smut, up to you lol, ok thanks byee

HIII yes i can!!! i can't believe my first request is a zayne's hands request this feels like a gift. thank you for requesting i hope you like!!!

[ there’s a part 2 now :) ] ☄. *. ⋆ gn! reader | 2.8k words | suggestive, not smut | zayne gives reader stitches but it's deliberately not described in detail/no mentions of needles/blood

“my lunch break ends in fifteen minutes,” zayne had said, staring past your head in thought. “it would be a waste of time to check you in.” 

you stood there in the bustling lobby of akso hospital, one paper-towel-bound hand pressed to the sliced skin over your hipbone, and waited. surely he wasn’t telling you to just leave. you were only friends, so it’s not like he had an obligation to you; but he was your primary care doctor, and...

and. there was, is, an and. you’re not sure what exactly to call it, and zayne is so adonis-like you’re embarrassed to even suggest he might like you.  

“i’m sorry,” you said in earnest, a little surprised by his usual coldness that you’d arrogantly assumed would thaw upon seeing your injury. “i didn’t mean for you to drop everything for me. i should have gone to an urgent care, or something, i just thought since you’re here...” 

zayne looked down from the spot over your head, clearly removed from his pensive mood. his intention to argue with you was clear, but he held his tongue stonily until you finished your rambling. 

“no,” he replied. “you should never go to another doctor. i was just thinking.” 

you blushed like an idiot. “ever?” you mocked. 

“mm,” he murmured, back to thinking again. he brought his forearm to circle the small of your back, not touching, and motioned you forward. “come with me.” 

and now, here you are: sitting on the grey sofa in front of the wall-length window, early afternoon light bleeding white all over zayne’s office. for a few moments, he’s left you alone to gather materials, and you relish in what feels like a small victory. 

i’ve been personally invited to the office.  

not like it’s the first time, though.  

zayne returns with a small kit swallowed by the size of his pale hands; the sleeves of his button-down pinned up to his elbows. you shift, balancing your weight unnaturally on one leg. His eyes snag on you as he grabs his glasses from his desk (far taller than the tabletop, he must lean down to grab those, too). 

“lay down,” zayne commands.  

you blink, glancing around to try to figure out the most convenient position to get into for him to work. by the time he’s come over and sat down on the glass table in front of you, you’re still sitting up. 

“you can put your head on the armrest and your feet that way,” he nods, not a hint of impatience in his deep voice. “i can see you squirming. when you sit up like you are, you’re putting pressure on the wound. it must hurt.” 

“i haven’t even shown you the wound,” you retort, not sure why you’re arguing so much- and swallowing a wince as you turn to prop your head up on the side of the sofa.  

“i see your handywork,” zayne replies. he pulls on a pair of blue latex gloves and they snap quietly against his wrists. he’s clearly careful not to let the noise be too loud. “hm.” 

you frown in place of a (shameful) gulp at the sight of the gloves hugging his hands.  

“is this bad?” you ask. “i’m sorry. i tried not to mess with it too much.” 

zayne pieces through the small kit on the table beside him. even his rummaging is succinct; long fingers deftly parsing through the stack of metal utensils inside. he comes up with two sets of narrow pliers and a cotton round.  

he passes the pliers through his fingers like pencils, balancing them between his knuckles, and pours a solvent that looks like lens cleaner onto the cotton pad. 

“not bad,” he says, eyes on the pliers as he polishes them. “the paper towel is fine. but you got it wet beforehand.” 

“and that’s bad?” 

“you’ll be alright,” he murmurs- or maybe he always sounds like that- and discards the cotton round. the corners of his lips just barely curl. “you won’t die, i suppose.” 

“well, i’d hope not. it’s just a cut.” 

“and what did you do this time?” zayne demands softly, fishing in the kit for what you now realize will be sutures.  

“i had an assignment with xavier and failed to climb a fence.” 

“you impaled yourself, then,” he remarks coldly. “and xavier.” 

he sets a roll of sterile surgical threads on a wider cotton pad and turns his eyes to your midriff, which is still mostly covered by your shirt; wound hiding beneath it.  

“xavier, yeah,” you inhale deeply, mentally preparing for the stitches. “my partner. i’ve mentioned him, i think.” 

“yes, you have,” zayne says. his voice is strained. then he inhales, a whole breath through his nose, mouth closed in stoic secrecy; and nods to your hips. “lift your shirt, please.” 

you’re grateful that he’s given you a task and you don’t have to look him in his eyes after that tiny display of disdain (for your partner? for your hips? hopefully the former?). But as you lift your shirt, the paper towel comes loose. 

“ouch,” you hiss. 

you realize you’re probably stressing him out.  

“it’s not bad,” you add, uncharacteristically hoarse. 

“it’s not,” zayne agrees softly, eyeing the wound with his usual cold stare. his eyes refuse to flicker above or below the cut, which rests just over the shallow ridge of your hipbone, right above the line of your trousers. “but it hurts, i'm sure.” 

you nod. “sure.” 

“sure,” he repeats, almost as if to mock you, almost as if he’s just making sure he heard you right.  

zayne busies himself preparing a cotton round of saline, and in the middle of this, says, 

“you’ll have to unbutton your pants. can you fold the waistband over?” 

your neck is suddenly clammy. “oh. yeah, sure.” 

“if you can’t fold them down far enough, you’ll have to take them off.” 

your eyes blow out like glass. 

zayne, whom you suspected might have been deliberately extending the length of his cotton-round-preparing, is surprisingly the one to smile first. almost wickedly. “i would get you a cover, of course.” 

“oh, how nice of you.” 

he laughs barely, an exhale from his nose. you unbutton your trousers, fabric shifting against metal.  

he inhales at the sound. 

the blue latex over his knuckles catches light from the windows. you watch moments later as he threads the sutures, fascinated by how efficient his hands are. they’re longer than they are wide, and slender, not bear-like; but big nonetheless. and yet his fingers move like knitting needles, never missing a beat, never shaking. “would you like to do it yourself?” zayne asks suddenly. 

his voice is like a hum, always vibrating in his chest. 

you bristle. “god, no.” 

“then why are you staring?”  

you’re hoping he won’t finish on that very word, but he does, and he looks at you with his usual resolve of steel. you decide that no answer is the only good answer, and instead say, 

“okay. good luck. don’t mess up, please.” 

he chuckles and leans over you, the breadth of his sharp shoulders blocking the sun. “i never mess up.”   

the words ‘mess’ and ‘up,’ are foreign on his tongue, like he’d never refer to a mistake so casually, like he’s never made one in his life. he probably hasn’t, you think. 

zayne lifts up the cotton round, which is practically the size of a pea in his hand. “i’m going to clean around it. the solution may sting, but not much. it will be over fast.” 

you nod. “sure.” 

he chuckles again. “sure,” he hums, and then, before he presses down, “here.” 

he swipes the cotton round over your hipbone, startlingly light. goosebumps rise instantly on your flesh. his fingers are icy, even through the gloves; they radiate cold like a lamp radiates heat.  

zayne is kind enough not to mention your instant squirming and moves quickly to start the sutures. 

“this will be fast, too,” he says, looking unwaveringly into your eyes. like he’s trying to will the fear out of you. “not as fast as that, but faster than you’d imagine.” 

you nod. “sure.” 

“there it is again,” he smiles. “sure.” 

you grin incredulously. “i don’t know what else to say. you’re about to stab me.” 

his smile is thin and almost prideful as he grabs his glasses and slips them on. he leans over your hips, then looks up at you; pushing them up the bridge of his nose. 

“aren’t you glad it’s me, at least, and not some stranger?” 

you’re busy inhaling and exhaling like a horse, trying to calm down. “i am glad it’s you, yes.” 

your desperation throws him and his jaw sets like a stone, adam’s-apple bobbing.  

“alright,” zayne says, nearly whispering. “now.” 

he begins the sutures. you gasp, instantly, at first through your nose and then through your mouth; which pops open unwittingly. it’s nearly a whine. 

“i know,” zayne murmurs, leaning back a tiny bit as he works; so his face is visible to you. “i’m sorry.” 

“it’s okay.” 

you bite down hard and screw your eyes shut, but all you do is flinch each time his fingers move. he stops almost instantaneously, like pulling the plug on a treadmill. 

“look at me,” zayne says, deep voice rumbling against your thigh.  

you peel one eye open and then the other. 

“i know it hurts,” he says gently. “but you can’t move. i could seriously hurt you.” 

“sorry, sorry,” you nod. “i know.” 

the pools of his eyes are clear. he’s resolute in his instructions as he speaks, every word confident. 

“breathe the entire time, through every suture. i can work while your stomach moves; i can’t work if you’re flinching away.” 

“okay.” 

his brows lift. “okay?” 

again, you nod. “okay. i’m sorry.” 

“no apologies,” zayne says. 

he presses his hand flat to the side of your belly that’s unharmed, the tips of his long fingers just barely curling around the slope of your waist. you inhale slowly at that, blinking rapidly. his hand is cool as glass.  

you panic, as if he can somehow feel the coil that winds up in your stomach; watching his fingers splayed across your navel.  

“i’m going to try again,” he says. you can feel the words all the way down to his fingertips. then his thumb moves, caressing the skin just over your waistband. “breathe.” 

well, i can’t now. 

“got it,” you grind out. 

“good,” zayne hums. “three, two, one...” 

and it starts again. you bite down, tongue taut to the roof of your mouth. 

“don’t,” zayne warns, stern as ever, but his fingers keep working. “breathe. i can see whether you’re doing it.” 

the coil in your stomach tightens. you peel your eyes open and watch him work, knuckles grazing over the soft, thin flesh that’s been revealed from behind the waistband of your trousers.  

his eyes flash away from your navel as you start to watch. moments later, you’re stunned to see how laser-focused he is, pupils never moving from your cut.  

“do you ever get nervous doing this?” you ask, apt to make the time pass faster by talking. like your mouth isn’t wet just watching him do his job. “are you nervous?” 

“no.” his reply is instant. “i’ve done this hundreds of times.” 

you’re stunned. “i would be nervous.” 

“you are nervous,” zayne murmurs. “close your eyes.” 

the ball of his wrist presses into the juncture of your hipbone.  

“no,” you gasp. too fast. 

zayne’s fingers slow, utensils suspended. he looks up at you, somehow feeling taller still. “no?” 

you shake your head. “i-i don’t like not knowing what you’re going to do next.” 

oh, sure.  

he’s stopped working at this point, watching you like a hawk. “then i’ll tell you what i’m going to do before i do it.” 

“that’s okay,” you exhale. i’m dying. 

zayne’s eyes rove over yours, not unkind, but uncaring about how visible his assessment of you is. clinical, even still. the corners of his lips curl up.  

you’re not sure how it’s possible for your stomach to drop while laying flat on your back, but it does; your ears hot as irons.  

he goes back to work without another word. you’re so embarrassed, you finally shut your eyes and let your head weigh on the armrest until he’s done. 

“alright,” zayne says. “that’s it. don’t move.” 

you keep your eyes shut, nodding. “i really can’t thank you enough, i-” 

“watch.” 

for a moment, you lay there. then you open your eyes, peering down at him, too uncertain to be shocked yet. “what?” 

zayne takes his small kit from the table and places it on your lap. you startle, blink, as he sifts through the contents of it. gloves still on.  

“this is another cleanser,” he hums, his voice uncharacteristically musical. “i’m going to clean around the sutures.” 

you stare incredulously at him. “...okay.” 

he’s not fooled by your aloofness. zayne’s right hand works slow circles with a cotton round around your cut; the other comes down flat to keep the waistband of your trousers from getting in his way. both are cold to the touch; never quite warming.  

your jaws come apart and you barely manage to stop your mouth from falling open as discards the cotton round and takes the corner of your waistband into his hand. 

he buttons your trousers; pulls the zipper up. 

you watch like a fool. then, when he’s done, and you think you’ll have to admit to what you’re thinking, he furrows his brows at your face.  

“did you cut yourself here, too?” he murmurs. 

“where?” you croak. 

zayne shakes his head and slowly peels off the gloves; letting them slide slowly off his fingers. “mm. here.” 

he reaches forward and spreads fingers to cup your temples. one thumb glides over your browbone, low enough that you can see it; four or five times before removing his kit from your hips and leaning back.  

you exhale harshly and move to sit up, wondering if you’ll be able to somehow flee the office without another word. 

“not yet,” zayne says. “lay back again. you don’t have to put your head back; just lean back.” 

and you do it, instantly, because...well, because.  

zayne pulls a rectangular gauze pad with an adhesive border from the small kit. then he leans forward- he'd be positioned between your legs, if you opened them- and pulls your shirt up once more. 

as he presses the bandage over your sutured wound, it seems like even he can’t look at you. but his usually statuesque expression is lifted with amusement, plus something more sinister.  

“you like to watch me work,” he hums. 

his fingers dip under your waistband to smooth the bandage over. 

“shut up,” you bite. 

he leans back and watches you with no further offerings- words or otherwise medically dubious practices- and looks quite pleased. his breath is ragged, though; chest lifting and caving. 

“thank you,” you exhale. your tongue darts out over your lips.  

his pupils are swollen. “sure.” 

you grin, caught off guard by the joke. it sounds ridiculous in his voice.  

“my break will be ending,” zayne says, stony as ever once again as he walks to his desk.  

you stand, smoothing your hair down like something far more scandalous just occurred than stitches. 

“what do i owe you?” you ask. this earns a genuine, icy glare. 

“nothing,” zayne replies, pulling on his white jacket and grabbing his things. “but go to the front desk before you leave. i’m going to call in a prescription ointment for you.” 

you blink at him, thrice. a little dizzy. “oh, wow. thank you.” 

as zayne strides to the door, you think he might genuinely leave you there without another word. but he takes the door handle, and, almost shy, turns over his shoulder and says, 

“i’d like to stay with you, but i can’t. i’ll be working until dinner.” 

“no, no,” you rush, stepping to meet him at the door. “i’m fine. thank you so much, for doing this. i was just thinking.” 

he still can’t look at you, but at that; zayne grins. 

“i’ll call you when i get home,” he says. then, “is that okay?” 

you swallow. “of course.” 

“i want to know how the sutures feel in a couple of hours,” he adds. 

“oh, sure,” you tease. 

his eyes darken, like darts. you’re almost afraid.  

zayne opens the door for you and waits for you to pass by, eyes full of mirth as he looks down at you. “i’m glad i could be of service.” 

he raps his fingers on a clipboard until you look away. you blush feverishly all the way down the hall at how he says ‘service.’ 

☄. *. ⋆

this is not how you do stitches nor how you sterilize utensils. anyways FIRST POST. lol. anon if you or anyone else wants a part 2 of this (nsfw) i wiiiiiill do it lmk

[misaamoure]

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭:

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝…!

⋅ ˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬:

“Yes,” Sylus threw his head back, exposing his adam’s apple. “Just like that.”

Things had gotten a little heated on the couch in the living room.

You two had been watching this old ass movie tied to a soundtrack in Sylus’s vinyl collection as a pastime, and had clearly gotten distracted.

He had been very periodic and methodical with his caresses and touched, before finally leaning over and whispering in your ear, “instead of watching a movie, why don’t we make one?”

Stupid. How predictable.

Sylus was beyond hot though, so you let it slide.

Turning away for a moment to roll your eyes, you swing your leg over his lap to straddle him.

And that’s how you two ended up here.

You’d never had a makeout session so intense.

You felt his hands all over you… you felt like you were on fire.

You were also more than positive that your wetness had leaked all the way through your panties and pants.

“Oh!”

Your train of thought was interrupted when Sylus thrusted right up into you.

It felt so good… you could feel his hard dick pressing right into your clit.

“You shouldn’t give away what you like so easily, sweetie,” He gave one last squeeze to your tits before moving his hands down to grip your waist. “You’re giving me such a large advantage.”

Jesus Christ he talks too damn much.

You didn’t particularly feel like arguing with him today. Sure, it could be fun, but what you really wanted was to shut him up.

Deciding to take the initiative, you repositioned yourself to sit right on his hard dick, and started to roll your hips back and forth.

Sylus inhaled sharply, something you didn’t miss.

Grinding on him slowly and sensually, you feel his hands twitch on your waist as you kissed down his jawline to give his neck a sharp bite.

The sound of Sylus’s heavy breathing and moaning only egged you on further.

“Fuck, kitten,” He shut his eyes tightly, throwing his head back. “Wait…”

Sylus was going fucking crazy.

Why did it feel so good? It was just a little kissing and grinding.

He suddenly felt like a horny teenager all over again.

But it felt so fucking good… you felt so fucking good. Rarely did you ever have the chance to get on top like this.

Maybe he should let you do it more often.

It was so out of character for him, to be moaning and panting like this. His head was a mess.

His boxers were a mess too, all the precum he had been leaking.

The electrifying feeling of your wet cunt dragging over his cock was driving him over the edge quicker than he’d like to admit.

“Wait, please,” Sylus felt fucking neurotic, begging like this. “Y/N… wait…”

It wasn’t long after that Sylus felt himself cum in his pants. Hard.

Holding you tightly by the waist and panting up a storm.

Oh my god… there’s no way he…?

You quickly sat up on your knees, lifting yourself off of his lap to see with your own two eyes.

And he did! There was an unmistakable wet spot right where his dick was.

Fuck… it was so erotic.

𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞:

Unintentional dry spells. It was common between you and Zayne.

He was always busy at the hospital and you were constantly running around to kick wanderer ass.

But you two always made that lost time up.

In fact; you can say with full confidence that you preferred the sex after the build up.

There was a particular intensity that came with it that simply couldn’t be replicated.

Nobody else saw Zayne with this level of passion but you.

It was his day off and he had invited you over.

While you two had been once sitting on his couch, things had began to get heated after Zayne initiated a kiss with you, stating how much he missed you.

It was rare for him to verbalize exactly what he felt so boldly.

Oh he was so sweet. The sweetest man you’d ever met.

Cut to you being on top of him with him laying on the couch below you.

You don’t even remember when you got on top of him. Well… not that it mattered.

Not when he was making you feel this good. He was the only thing on your mind at the moment.

“Y/N… please,” You felt his grip on your waist tighten as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Wait…”

Hearing him beg and plead with you was making you unbelievably wet.

You didn’t want to stop. You couldn’t stop. It was too good. And you’d been waiting for him for hours.

With every pass of Zayne’s hard cock over your clothed clit you became more and more aggressive.

“I’m not going to last like this,” He said breathlessly. “Please, my love, enough…!”

Oh my god was it your birthday?

Making Zayne cum in his pants sounded maddening.

He was under you losing his mind.

Zayne could feel how wet you were through all the layers you two were wearing.

The delicious friction of how perfectly you were grinding on him was bringing him to his climax all too quickly.

“Y/N… I’m-”

Digging his fingers into your hips, Zayne came all into his boxers.

Shit… you drove him crazy.