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aeyumicore · 3 months

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☾ .⭒˚ business trip ♡ zayne x afab reader

⋆.˚ ☾ pairing: zayne x afab!reader (very fem!reader)

☾ .⭒˚ genre: smut, pwp, pwf

⋆.˚ ☾ word count: 6.7k (good lord)

☾ .⭒˚ content warning: mdni, tiny reference/spoiler to lore, explicit sexual content, pure pure filth, dubcon if you squint really really really hard, size kink, unprotected sex, breeding kink, oral sex (f!receiving), lots of making out, finger fucking, tongue fucking, cum as lube, finger sucking, choking, slight inappropriate use of evol, slight use of y/n, dom!zayne

⋆.˚ ☾ video link: not necessary to watch in order to read and enjoy, but i highly recommending watching the memory for context and a visual for the fic! https://youtu.be/JAQ22yAhnUI?si=bfOLaJ-byJMyT9Vn

☾ .⭒˚ a/n: as promised she is here! this is based of the five-star card ‘business trip.’ a lot of the initial dialogue is from that card's story, with some small changes. this contains very tiny spoilers/references to some of the lore (honestly not really, if you’re reading this you’re probably addicted to the game enough to know the reference).

this is my very first finished fan fic/smut! i’m used to writing research papers and lab reports, so i am still learning to write fiction/dialogue! please be kind :) also fun fact i was writing this in first person but then decided to switch to second person so if there’s any stray grammar errors i apologize lol search and replace is so wonky

if you can’t tell i am absolutely feral for zayne and need to thirst for him with fellow zayne simps. my dumbass cannot write porn without a shit ton of plot/feelings. hope you enjoy!!

⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾

people who didn’t know zayne would assume that he was a cold person, and you couldn't really blame them. as a world renowned cardiac surgeon, and the chief cardiac surgeon of a massive metropolitan hospital, he had become an expert at control, especially that of his emotions. he let the world know only what he wanted them to know, and he was extremely selective about who he let truly know him.

having been zayne’s girlfriend for a few months now, you had the privilege of being on the receiving end of his rare affections. and while he was undeniably blunt and straightforward, you knew he was anything but cold. under the winter blizzard that was his exterior, zayne was warmer than the summer sun.

but despite being intimately familiar with zayne’s affections, you couldn’t help but be disappointed when he picked you up from the train station returning home from your ten day mission. after months of dating, you were no stranger to the cardiac surgeon’s distaste of pda and need for professionalism, but after ten days apart you couldn’t help but be disheartened by his nonchalance when picking you up.

so when he put on a random movie and sat on your couch, you couldn’t help but pout and prop your knees up to your chest on the seat cushion next to him.

“do you have a question for me, zayne?” you rested your head on your left hand that was leaning up on the sofa back. his face snapped to yours from the tv screen, eyes lighting up with amusement. they bore straight into your own, making you want to squirm in your seat. even without touching you, zayne was always able to make your blood heat and your skin singe.

“what do you mean?” his tone held the faintest trace of humor and you had a feeling he knew exactly what you meant but wanted to hear you say the words.

feeling emboldened by his teasing obliviousness, you deftly swung one of your legs over his lap, and effectively straddled him on the couch. his hands instinctively gravitated to gently rest on the plush of your hips. you squeaked in surprise at the feel of his ice cold hands against your exposed waist, your shirt having ridden up. you could feel the distinct outline of something you’d terribly missed on your time away, and it made you harshly bite your lip to suppress the sounds your body tried to force out of your mouth.

the corner of his lips raised at you, the faint ghost of a smirk gracing his face. he murmurs softly, his voice sending shivers straight down your spine while his fingers danced down with it, “how was your trip? was it okay?”

still sulking, you whined, “not at first. after all, i could always see you whenever i wanted to.” your hands softly ran down the smooth fabric of his suit vest, drifting over his expensive tie, “then slowly i got used to it.” you shifted in his lap, intentionally grinding gently, hoping to provoke any sort of reaction from him. you needed him to be as affected by you as you were by him.

“got used to being alone again? right?” besides his growing erection, he was as calm and collected as always. in your frustration at his nonchalance, you missed the little signs of zayne losing the tight grip he always had on his control. his grip tightening ever so slightly on your hips, the brief but sharp intake of his breath, his jaw slackening gently as he bit the inside of his cheek.

exasperated, you climbed off his lap and settled back into your seat beside him. with zayne, it could often be difficult to tell when he was teasing or genuinely oblivious. and your own frustrations were clouding your perception to any of the little indicators that he was anything but in complete control of the situation.

“sure, but it’s not…” you trailed off feeling embarrassed, eyes falling to your hands on your lap. maybe you were being too needy?

gripping your chin in his thumb and index finger, he lifted your head to meet his deep green eyes again, “indeed, it’ll become dull regardless.” the unmistakable sound of need in his voice as his piercing eyes locked yours in place was beginning to utterly derail your thoughts.

you cover his eyes with both your hands, unable to stand his intense stare, “you’ve been staring at me.”

“but i can’t see you like this,” the amusement in his voice is undeniable.

“shhh. that’s the point.”

gently, he pries your hands off his face without much resistance, “let me see you.” his eyes once again found yours, holding bits of amusement, adoration, and hunger. you averted your eyes and childishly stuck your tongue out at him.

“you wanted me to say something?” the teasing in his voice transparent as glass.

unable to contain yourself any longer, you whine, “why did you act so normally at the train station? i was disappointed.” craving his skin on yours, you reach your right hand out to gently brush your fingers over his lips. he wraps his much larger hand over yours and moves it to cup his cheek. turning his head ever so slightly, his lips ghost the inside of your palm with a delicate kiss.

when he finally speaks, his voice has dropped to an octave that sends waves of pure primal pleasure coursing straight down to your core, “what did you want me to do in front of all those people?”

biting back the shiver threatening to unleash through your body, you continue with your petulant ramblings, “we haven’t seen each other for a few days. didn’t you miss or worry about me?”

“the weather was nice there and you responded to all my text messages. so you must have been fine,” he gently plays with your hand, still enclosed in his. “now tell me, is there something you want to tell me?”

you could tell zayne knew exactly what you wanted to say and what you wanted him to say. but ever the tease, he wanted you to say it aloud.

“tell me what you want,” he’d always demand with his lengthy slender fingers stuffed deep inside you, thumb pressing harshly on your clit. forcing you to say the words.

“i…missed you,” you confess through hooded eyelids, only daring to peer up at him through your eyelashes. your own daydreams were causing a dampening puddle to form at the apex of your legs which you squeezed shut tightly, embarrassed at how eager you were for him.

in a flash, his hand released yours to snatch the remote off the coffee table and shut the movie off, turning to face you again. his sudden movement snapped you out of your filthy reminiscing, “why did you turn off the tv?”

forcefully, he cups the back of your neck, entangling his fingers in your hair, pulling you closer until his face is a mere inch from yours, eyes glancing fleetingly to your lips. you could feel his minty breath against your lips and it made you unleash the uncontrollable shiver you’d been suppressing, “are we really here for a movie?”

breathlessly and defiantly, you pushed him further, “isn’t that what you wanted?” your hands gripped his bicep, reveling in the taut bundle of muscles that you’d imagined far too many times on your trip, taking you so forcefully every night prior.

“i’ve changed my mind now. is that okay?” and with that zayne closes the short distance between the two of you, capturing your lips with his.

you couldn’t help but moan at the feel of his icy lips on yours after far too long, far too many lonely nights. he greedily swallowed it, hands moving to tangle deeper in your hair. zayne’s lips were always a pleasant blend of winter ice but also a home-like warmth, the feeling absolutely addicting. a feeling reserved just for you.

zayne pushed you down softly, until your back met the cushioned sofa. he parted your thighs and settled between them, hovering above you.

“such a brat. did you want me to take you like this in front of everyone at the station?” he murmured, hands leaving you to loosen his tie. the unbelievably erotic sight had your knees weakening, the dampness between your legs intensifying. they instinctively clenched at the feeling, which zayne noticed immediately, evident by his satisfied smirk.

“tell me how much you missed me,” he demanded softly and firmly as his hands found their way under your shirt, teasing the skin of your naval and dancing up just below the swell of your breasts. his cold touch pulled a needy whimper from you and your pelvis arched up seeking any kind of friction against his body. zaynes actions fried your brain, rendering it nearly impossible for you to process what he was asking of you.

suddenly his hands abandoned your chest and he raised his hips so your bodies no longer touched, to your dismay. the loss in friction had you whimpering pathetically for him. instead, his hand made its way to your mouth and his thumb pressed into the parting of your lips, “answer me.”

“wh-what? what did you ask?” you panted dumbly, tongue intentionally grazing his thumb and savoring the salty taste of his frosty skin. you could see his erection growing against the restraint of his slacks at the feel of your tongue eagerly tasting him.

using his free hand, he ghosted it against your jeans covered cunt, just barely catching on your clit. squeezing your eyes shut, you gasped and hoped he couldn’t feel how embarrassingly wet you already were for him, despite him only just having touched you. his touch was light and fleeting, just enough to leave you starving for more.

his thumb, still in your mouth, pressed down firmly on your tongue. this time, he asked more forcefully, “tell me how much you missed me baby.” his domineering attitude short circuited your brain and once again all you could do was moan and thrust into his hand. zayne, dissatisfied with your repeated lack of response, pinched your clit, roughly enough to snap you back into reality and leave you panting for more. the truth came tumbling out so fast you had no time to be ashamed at how desperate he’d made you.

“s’much, i missed you so much zaayne,” you slurred, unable to articulate your words through the lust, “thought ‘bout you ev’ry night.” you reached up to run your fingers through the dampening black bangs that rested against his eyes. “missed you s’much zayne. need you s’bad.”

his gorgeous green eyes darkened and he shut them, “fuck.”

satisfied with your begging, he bent down to capture your lips with his once more, pressing his erection against your heat, grinding torturously slowly. his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, demanding access to what was his. you happily granted him entrance, enjoying the feel of his tongue against yours. enjoying the taste of him so intimately close to you.

he pulled away, groaning, “do you want to know why i acted so normally when i saw you at the train station?” you whined at him pulling away, having thoroughly gotten over your previous brattiness and just wanting nothing more than him to utterly devour you. you reached your hand up to cup his cheek again, trying to guide his lips back to yours and shut him up. you continued to grind into his erection, rutting needily into his crotch, completely and utterly desperate for him. you were at the point of no return, and not even your own embarrassingly unabashed horniness could shame you into stopping.

instead, he affectionately leans into your hand and shuts his eyes, like a cat purring into a palm. the pure adoration mixed with the fiery sexual tension enveloping the air surrounding you was absolutely suffocating. and you were positively addicted.

he put his hand over yours, holding it lovingly against his cheek, “even in front of all those people, i knew once i saw you again–” he brought your joined palms to his lips and grazed a fleeting kiss against your skin, then released your hand.

continuing, “if i touched you again after all that time –” he bent down over you to gently graze his teeth against your racing pulse, suckling and nibbling carefully while his other hand cupped your sex again to which you eagerly ground into. his long slender fingers teased your slit, paying special attention to your aching clit.

he continued his ministrations on your pussy, his breathy rasps right next to your ear, “i knew i wouldn’t be able to stop.”

his words snapped the coil that had been building in your core from the moment your eyes landed at him at the train station. you whined as your thighs trembled to a halt against his fingers. the culmination of it all, missing him terribly for ten days, the feel of his perfect body pressed against yours, the incessant teasing, but especially his confession, led to your quick unraveling. covering your eyes in sheer embarrassment, you came against his hand, still completely dressed.

zayne peered down at his soaked hand, voice low, vaguely amused, and unbelievably turned on, “did you just cum, love?”

embarrassed, hands still covering your reddening face, you wailed, “y-yes..i’m sorry!”

“don’t hide from me y/n,” his fingers, covered in your slick, pried your hands away from your eyes. “did my little brat miss me that much? she’s so eager for me she came just from humping my hand huh?”

you nodded enthusiastically, despite the sheer embarrassment, determined to please the man before you, “missed you more than anything. needed you s’bad. haven’t felt you inside me in s’long.” he swore lowly under his breath, barely audible, his control slipping.

“i’m sorry for not behaving the way you expected at the train station, my love,” he rose away from you, undoing his loosened tie. “let me show you how much i missed you.” his words unleashed butterflies in your stomach as you watched him shed his clothing, layer by layer. zayne was truly something sculpted out of legends. as his long fingers expertly unbuttoned his white collared shirt you pressed your palm against his hard stomach and murmured, “wait let’s go to my bed.”

but he didn’t stop, instead arching his eyebrow at you, “did you think i was joking?”

your eyes snapped away from the contours of his abs leading to the dusting of his pubic hair, not at all able to follow what he was talking about. “s-sorry?”

he chuckled, finally shedding his expensive white shirt somewhere on your apartment floor. he crawled back to hover over you and deftly removed your bottoms and panties, then spreading your thighs apart and using his own leg to keep them propped open.

“we’ve already started, and i won’t be able to stop any time soon.”

you shivered at his words and hooked your arms around his neck, pressing your lips against his. the kiss was bruisingly passionate and messy, his tongue exploring all the places he longed for the past week and a half. with one hand he gripped your hair, and with the other he skillfully unhooked your bra and caressed your nipple with his fingertips. you whimpered into his mouth as he played with your body in ways only he knew would have you completely ruined. wanting to please him too, you reached your hand down to release his cock from its confines and grasp it in your hand. it stood completely rock hard against his naval, his prominent vein bulging and throbbing in your hand. because of zayne’s evol, he always ran very cold. his skin was often icy to the touch, but his manhood always burned your palms, blazing so deliciously hot.

you held it tight in your hand, jerking up and down gently but forcefully. teasing the underside of the head with your thumb, you briefly panicked at how he would fit inside you after so many days not being stretched to accommodate him. his manhood was like him in every way: intimidating, imposing, and glorious.

zayne pulled away from your lips, burying his face into the crook of your neck and biting into the soft skin there. the most erotic groans spilled out of his lips against you, but his hand gripped your fist halting your movements. through gritted teeth, he seethed, “stop.”

scared you’d hurt him, you instantly snatched your hand away. he noticed the guilt on your face and half-smiled reassuringly, “i was about to finish all over your pretty little stomach from just your hands. this is how much i’ve missed you.” the more he spoke, the more your next orgasm was building, your body aching for his with every filthy word he uttered.

his hands gripped the small of your back and lifted you slightly, giving him access to remove your top and unlatched bra. his eyes hungrily roamed all over your body until they settled on your eyes, “you are the most beautiful thing i will ever set eyes on, in all my lives.”

your head tilted, intrigued by his choice of words, “all your lives? have you discovered the secret of reincarnation, dr. zayne?.” zayne chuckled, but did not respond, instead kneeling completely naked and god-like before you and you couldn’t help but beg, “p-please zayne.”

he smirked, confident as ever, hands reaching down to ghost right above your pussy, hovering so close but not touching, “please what, baby? use your words, you can do that for me, right?'”

you bit your lip, trying to grind your crotch into his hand, whining when he shifted to dodge your advances.

“tell me what you want.”

unable to take the teasing any further, “p-please jus’ touch me, anything, please.”

“my girl is so damn needy.” finally he sets his fingers against your soaking slit, slipping his lengthy middle finger in. throwing your head back, you moaned arching your back off the couch, rutting into his digit.

“so desperate for me,” he practically purred, pumping his single finger in and out, “did you have to use your own fingers when you were away?”

“y-yess thought of you every time,” you moaned, “p-please, more.” you shrieked in pure ecstasy as you felt his lips find your sensitive nipple while simultaneously inserting his index finger.

zayne has always been hyper fixated on your breasts. the way the skin pebbled under his touch, the way the plush fat felt underneath the massage of his palms, but mostly the way you writhed under the lathering of his tongue. while his fingers forked in and out of you, his tongue swirled dizzying circles around the peak of your breasts. he nibbles, gentle but still enough to make you yelp. you can feel his smile against your skin as he suckles soothingly. he alternates between the two, never wanting to leave the other one neglected. your pleasure is the most important thing to him, a job he takes seriously. only when you’re a squirming whimpering mess does he feel satisfied.

pleased with his work, he detached from your chest, trailing down further. he leaves a path of kisses down your torso until he finds himself facing his main course. as he admires your throbbing cunt, his fingers still scissoring in and out of it, his tongue swipes against his lips. the hunger in his eyes is evident, as if pondering all the different ways he could devour you. finally, he graces your pussy with his attentive lips, wrapping around your clit and just barely grazing with his teeth.

zayne ate like a man positively starved, his tongue working magic on your body. he suckled diligently on the bud, making the filthiest slurping noises. your toes curled, resting on his broad hard shoulders, and your thighs clenched around his jaw. with his free hand, he sought your nipple out, pinching gently against the pebbled skin, ravishing absolutely every inch of your body. he shifted downwards until his tongue was inside you, his nose rubbing against your clit delivering such relentless mind-numbing pleasure. his tongue fucked you earnestly and through the blood pounding in your ears you could hear him moaning at the taste of your juices, dripping down his chin.

zayne inserts his fingers again, tongue going back to lap diligently at your clit, “you can take another one cant you?” he grunted against your most sensitive region, his breath a warm caress.

you sat up weakly on your elbows, absolutely winded from the blinding pleasure but determined to keep up with him, “i can! i can!”

“that’s my girl.” he inserts another finger, stuffing you completely full. moaning unabashedly, you latched onto his hair and fucked yourself onto his fingers. “you taste so fucking good. couldn’t stop thinking about you, spread out for just me, while you were gone.” his filthy words went straight to your core and you felt your next orgasm building at an alarming rate.

“zayne zayne zayne,” you chanted, completely fucked out, “please d-don’ stop.” his fingers quickened inside you, the lewd wet sounds of his fingers pounding against your skin filling the room. while keeping himself buried inside you, he shifted on top of you until his face was right in front of yours, eyes gazing into you deeply. zayne crashed his lips onto yours once more, forcing his tongue in, claiming every part of you. not that you objected at all.

his kiss was so unbelievably filled with need, showing you just how much he had missed you. his entire mouth tasted of you, lips so wet from a mix of your spend and his saliva. the passion of it all was enough to send you reeling towards your second orgasm. nails digging into his bicep, you tried to warn him that you were just about to come undone all over his hand. with his three fingers stuffed in you, he used his thumb to rub harsh circles on your clit, sending you reeling over the cliff of pleasure

“that’s it, juust like that baby. cum for me,” he cooed. you were a babbling slurring mess as you trembled on his fingers, releasing all over his hand. he continued to gently pump in and out of you, helping you ride out the waves of your orgasm. you fought to stay conscious as the overwhelming pleasure of two climaxes bled into the sting of overstimulation.

weakly swatting at his hand still inside your puffy cunt, “s’too much zayne. s’too sensitive.” he finally removed his hand, the sudden emptiness drawing a gasp from your lips. zayne brought his absolutely drenched fingers to his mouth, devouring your slick off of them.

“absolutely perfect,” he groaned, removing them and gripping the underside of your thighs. in one swift motion he pulled hard and had you pushed up against his own body, your rear end elevated to brush right up against his hard body, his unbelievably erect cock.

tapping his member against your sopping cunt he gave you a lopsided smile, “you still with me love?”

you sat up, unable to take your eyes off of where zayne’s body would connect with yours. following your eyes, he takes his manhood in his hand and teases it up and down, “i expect an answer when i speak to you y/n.”

your mind was mush and your body was still staggering from the sheer amount of pleasure zayne had just given you, but you knew you needed more. you needed him and you needed him inside you.

peering into his eyes from underneath your eyelashes, you mewled, “z-zaayne. i need you. i can’t wait any more”

he swore under his breath, his voice a deep sensual rasp, “so damn eager for me. don’t worry, you will have me, many many times tonight.” you shivered at his words, a hard and fast promise, as he lined up his cock with your entrance.

“two of ten,” he muttered under his breath, teasing his head against your clit, causing your body to tremble uncontrollably as he smeared your combined arousals all over your cunt, better than any medical grade lube. zayne always had so much pre cum from edging himself, always putting your pleasure above anything else, before himself.

“ten what?”

a heart stopping cocky smirk graced his beautiful pale face, “you’ve been gone for ten days. i fully intend to make up for every single day tonight.” the full weight of what he was implying clicked and your eyes widened.

“th-there’s no way!”

“isn’t this what you wanted? for me to show you how much i missed you?” he gave your pussy one last stern tap with his length, evoking a squeal from your lips as you squeezed your eyes tightly shut in anticipation.

“i told you once i started i wouldn’t be able to stop.” and without waiting for you to protest further, zayne softly breached into your warm and waiting hole. you moaned in surprise at the massive stretch. the only reason he could enter you at all was because he had thoroughly prepped you with the two previous orgasms. the pain ebbed pleasure was undeniable as zayne stretched your body to the max. when you looked to see where his body was joined with yours, you gaped. he’d only managed to get his tip in.

zayne fell forward slightly, gripping the underside of your thighs with a bruising intensity. his jaw was locked and he panted out, “please love, relax. relax for me. you’re squeezing me so fucking tight.”

“i’m tryin’, jus’ so big,” you whined, hands finding purchase in his soft hair. you took a deep breath, trying to loosen up, staring into his smoldering eyes while he pushed further into your guts.

“that’s it, such a good little slut for me. always so obedient,” he cooed, slowly but surely seating himself fully in your cunt. after ten days without him inside, it felt like losing your virginity all over again. but every single word he muttered went straight to the wet mess in between your joined bodies, helping to overcome the resistance.

the initial pace he set was torturously slow and passionate, his eyes only leaving yours when he threw his head back to groan deeply, as if unable to contain himself while he was inside you. any inklings of pain quickly dissolved into pure pleasure as his thick length burrowed deep inside. you watched zayne bask in the unstoppable stream of sounds that escaped your mouth, his body always taking yours in the most delicious ways. any embarrassment you previously felt went out the window as you made the most lewd and filthy cries for him.

hooking your legs around his waist, you felt him brush against your cervix with his tip and realized even fully buried inside you, zayne’s length was not completely burrowed in your pussy. the sheer size of him made you clench around his thrusts, throbbing in ecstasy as he ravished your body.

“so damn tight,” he groaned, the pace and force of his thrusts increasing, “gonna have to stretch you back out tonight, all night.” his thumb rubbed figure eights around your clit while you held onto your breasts for support as they bounced wildly from the growing intensity of his movements. the sight seemed to please him as he grunted and reached one of his hands to release your thigh and take a breast into his own hand, teasing the nipple between his finger tips.

somehow even in your utterly fucked out state you were able able to moan out, “s’deep s’deep sooo good. please don’t stop. missed this s’much.”

the hand on your breast ventured upwards to gently close around your throat, with just enough pressure to leave you gasping in bliss, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. his fingers pressed into your pulse, “taking me so well. this pussy was made for me, huh?”

a stray tear of pure pleasure slipped from your eyes. zayne released your neck and swipes his thumb across your cheek, wiping away the fallen tear, “answer me y/n. who does this pussy belong to?”

“b-belongs t’you zayne,” you slurred, “allll yours, always.”

pleased, zayne folds your thighs into your chest, until your knees are nearly touching your breasts. planting one foot on the seat of the couch, he begins thrusting with an entirely new vigor. the new angle allows him even deeper, cock brushing against all your deepest, favorite places. drool dribbled from the side of your mouth as you cried out repeatedly in pleasure. his body was so satisfyingly heavy, imposing, and large against yours, a stark reminder of the sheer size difference between you.

he shoved his hand between your two bodies to rest on your stomach, pressing down, “can you feel how deep i am love? can you feel me here?”

frankly, you could feel him in your damn throat, “y-yes zayne, feel it s’deep. makin’ me feel so goood. please don’t stop.”

“don’t worry, don’t plan on ever stopping.” his promises drove you ever so close to your climax. you moaned, back arching off the couch so sharply that you were almost levitating. zayne took this opportunity to wrap his two large hands around your waist, hoisting you off the couch leaving you squealing as he picked you up like a rag doll, seating you back on his lap, a mixture of your arousals moistening your thighs. his cock sat tall against your stomach and you longed to be stuffed again.

“look at the mess you made,” he murmured, eyes trailing to the space you sat completely exposed on him. with one palm gripping your ass, he slid his other between you to collect your collective slick on his fingers and shove it gently back into you. you yelped but took this opportunity to lift yourself onto your knees and take his cock into your hands. zayne watched you with amused eyes allowing you to take control, if only for a brief moment, before regaining it. a creature of habit, zayne loved control. in the hospital, the operating room, and especially in the bedroom. or well the living room.

you impaled yourself on his length once more, a gasping and groaning mess every inch of the way. he kneaded the plush of your ass adoringly, trying to soothe the pain from the stretch. in this position, zayne reached the deepest inside you, literally rearranging your guts. using your fleeting strength, you began bouncing up and down on him, his strong hands on your rear guiding you along, but letting you do the work. the corner of his lips were slightly quirked up as he watched you struggle to keep up any semblance of rhythm or pace.

“does my needy girl need my assistance?”

determined to wipe the smug smirk off his unfairly handsome face, you shook your head vehemently and only rode him more vigorously. but as his cock continued to spear in and out of you, the overwhelming pleasure in your gut and the burning in your thighs took hold and your knees gave out. you slumped your head breathlessly against his hard chest, as he chuckled and planted a kiss against the top of your head.

“don’t worry sweetheart, i’ve got you. let me take care of you.” with the help of his strong hands, he bounced you on his lap. his large muscular thighs flexed underneath you as your eyes rolled back. hours upon hours of surgeries honed zayne’s endurance and he bobbed you up and down like you weighed nothing at all. sitting on his lap like this, your abdomen was pushed right against his, your clit rubbing along his pelvis and your nipples dragged along his chest with each sinful thrust.

“eyes on me,” he commanded, his grip on your ass tightening enough to leave marks. in your fucked out state you force your eyes to focus on his, as his cock continues to deliver you unimaginable pleasure. with his eyes locked on yours, zayne lets out a deep breathy moan and murmurs, “i missed you so much y/n.”

your heart swells, your stomach clenches and you knew you loved this man. the butterflies in your stomach must have manifested in your pussy clenching around zayne’s shaft, hard. he hisses, but before he can speak you take his face in both your hands and press your mouth to his, swallowing his moans.

the feel of his tongue claiming every inch of your mouth pushes you towards your third orgasm. your lips separate, a string of drool connecting them still, as zayne hammers into you. you drape your arms over his shoulders, clinging on while he pounds into your abused hole. your clit continues to brush against his slick soaked pubic hair and has you seeing actual stars.

he bent down to capture your nipple with his mouth, absolutely devouring it. squealing, you arched into his mouth as your fingers clawed deep welts into his back while he ravished your breasts. he continued to bounce you on his lap, pace never faltering.

“m’close,” you warn over the erotic wet ‘pap pap pap’ sounds between you, “g’nna cum soon.”

“yeah? cum on me baby. need to feel you all over my cock,” his thrusts continue to hit your sweet spot and you feel as if you’re about to explode. at his command, you barrelled through your orgasm, digging your nails into his toned back. the pleasure was immeasurable as it coursed through every centimeter of your body. your head felt dizzy, toes curled, fingers clenched, nipples hardened further against him, and every nerve in your body sang for him. you wailed as he helped you ride out your orgasm, prolonging it as long as possible, still chasing his own pleasure.

“that’s it love. make a mess all over me,” the over stimulation was starting to kick in again as zayne’s thighs and hands continued to rock you on his cock.

“p-perfect, you’re so fucking perfect. do you know how many times i fucked my fist, thinking of this, while you were gone?” zayne was babbling now, and his cock was twitching persistently inside you. you could tell he was going to cum soon too. you held on for dear life as you willed yourself to withstand the overstimulation, wanting zayne to find release with you. it slowly ebbed into an addicting painful pleasure, making you uncontrollably squeeze your aching cunt around his throbbing cock.

“f-fuck squeezing the soul out of me. i’m gonna cum,” he groaned into the crook of your neck.

“cum for me zayne i wan’ it so so bad you n-need it please. need your cum so bad,” you whined, squeezing your eyes shut feeling another orgasm approaching so so unbelievably fast.

just like he had before, he gripped your chin with one of his hands, “look at me. i need to see you when i cum.” you forced your eyes open and watched as he stared at you with such intense lust, need, and love.

“where do you want me?” he grunted, his thrusts stumbling and you could tell he was finally at the precipice of his own orgasm.

“i-inside please cum inside me zaayne, i need you s’bad. need t’feel it deep,” you sobbed, your cunt tightening around him as you were about cum again.

“you want me to fill you up baby? stuff you full of my cum? what if i get you pregnant?” you clenched in excitement at the vague warning of his words. without fail, zayne noticed.

“my girl likes that idea huh? want me to breed this pretty little cunt? put my baby in you?” he was practically rabid now, the force of his bouncing rattling your brain, his words turning your body into putty in his hands. tears of overwhelming pleasure filled your eyes at his filthy promises and you could only peer at him through your wet eyelashes and nod eagerly, with your tongue almost lolling out of your mouth.

zayne cursed under his breath at the look you were giving him. he knew he could never deny you, not that he’d wanted to, especially not when you looked at him like that. he would spend his entire life, every one of his lives, loving you, taking care of you, protecting you, pleasuring you, if you’d allow him.

as he watched the drool dribble down your chin, he thrust one last time, the brute force of it dragging the orgasm out of you while he spurted his release deep inside your womb. you were screaming, crying as the intensity of your last three orgasms made your body even more reactive to his cum painting your walls white. the culmination of it all had you squirting all over your joined laps.

zayne watched in awe as you made an utter mess on his lap, his grip on your hips tightened and an icy frost formed on the top of your soft skin, under his palms. the alarming cold only served to increase the ecstasy of your climax. he didn’t seem to notice as the beautiful snowflake etched frost danced up your waist. yet you felt anything but cold as his hands held you against him.

the aftershocks of your final orgasm caused your pussy to continue to throb around him, milking anything he had left. zayne was a moaning and panting mess when he finally noticed that he was losing control of his evol, the glimmering crystals weaving up higher up your sides.

“shit, i’m sorry love,” he swore, pulling his hands away. you whimpered, not caring in the slightest, just wanting his touch back as you slumped against his hard chest, panting for air, body completely and thoroughly ruined. he took deep breaths to regain control of his evol, watching the iridescent flakes on your waist melt away as quickly as they’d come. as they faded completely, you shivered against him, cunt still quivering around him, draining every last drop of his seed into you. zayne wrapped his strong arms around you, cradling you gently, making sure his evol was properly contained before relaxing into your delicate body.

you must have drifted off briefly because the next thing you knew zayne was placing you gently on your plush bed sheets, the sweat and slick cleaned off your skin. despite the brutal pounding your pussy had taken, you could hardly feel any soreness. no doubt thanks to zayne’s tendencies to care for you like a little injured duckling, even outside of the hospital.

“you’re the best primary care provider, dr. zayne,” you murmured happily, nuzzling into his strong forearm, as he set you down on the bed. he chuckled, sounding not the least bit tired, sitting down on the empty space beside you.

“at home, you take care of me. at the hospital, you take care of me. how’d i get so luck to have a doctor like you?,” you rambled, utterly content. he continued to laugh, leaning over so he could stroke slow soothing circles on your naked stomach.

“i will always take care of you,” his gleaming green eyes beam at you, while the rest of his face remains calm, collected. and then he slowly smirks, “especially in the bedroom.”

you blush furiously, your thighs clenching together again, his eyes never leaving yours. the circles he rubs into your skin inch slowly up, up, up until they’re caressing your breasts, again.

“zaayne, there’s no way,” you whine, your thighs trembling at the sight of heat returning to his eyes. but despite your protests your core quivers in anticipation and you can't bring yourself to swat his hands away. he slowly crawls on your bed, into, in his opinion, his rightful place between your legs.

“we’re only 40% of the way done love, and as a surgeon i must always complete what i start,” he murmurs mischievously, hands gripping your knees, prying apart gently, slowly.

“y-you can’t be serious!”

“please? i missed you, y/n.”

feeling how your body reacted so eagerly to those three words, the words you wanted to hear him say so desperately at the train station, you knew you were in for a very long night.

tag list: @bitchykittenconnoisseur

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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 1 month

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≡;-꒰ 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 & 𝑫𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒔: 𝑳𝒂𝒄𝒚 𝑳𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆

── mdni sexual content. l&ds boys' reaction to arriving home with you asleep in lacy lingerie. inclusive of: somnophilia (consensual), kissing, fingering, oral (f. receiving), masturbation (m), cum shot, vaginal sex (unprotected), slight pet name usage, praise, cursing.

⁺₊ / an: AAAAAAA this req was SO FUN i adore somno just as much as you anonie 🙌

caleb would have been very, very pleasantly surprised. to come home to see you asleep on your bed, curled up peacefully as you hugged a pillow? god, he'd think you look absolutely beautiful. he'd notice you wearing the lingerie in his favorite color, and it would already be enough to get him aroused. knowing you'd left a consensual note was enough for him, and then he'd have gently shifted you to lay on your back, his breath hitching as he ran his hands over your smooth skin.

"so pretty," he'd mumble; "so beautiful."

he'd intend to take his time with you, determined to keep you sleep and prolong your blissful peace just a while longer. he'd slowly trail his hands over the lace on your breast, over your cunt—and then your bra would be unclasped, and caleb would slowly, slowly, carefully pull down the waistband of the lacy thong you were wearing. and then his mouth would be on yours, a soft, slow kiss, and then his lips would trail down to your neck, leaving a mark of proof that he would be, just as you'd asked, using you for the night.

slowly, slowly, he'd trail downwards until his tongue reached out to flick at your nipple, soft, gentle swirls as his eyes carefully took note of your body's reactions. you would flinch, sometimes, maybe stir a little, but you wouldn't wake up. and caleb wanted to see how far he could push you.

he'd smile, playing with your tits, and then he'd go lower. and lower.

and his lips would find the wetness of your cunt.

still slow, gentle licks as he'd lap up your arousal, clearly pleased that his attention to your breasts had gotten you so wet for him despite you still being so fast asleep. he'd thrust his tongue inside, enjoying the slight movements of your hips to his ministrations, almost as if his actions had spurred on a dream of your own. and then when he'd finally suck on your clit, you'd gasp and open your eyes, immediately finding your fingers in his hair as the drowsiness in your eyes fade away.

he'd pull back with a grin. "shhh, 's alright, pipsqueak. i'm just gonna have a little more fun with you, yeah? go back to sleep for me?"

rafayel would get aroused at the mere sight of you—so much so that he'd almost be tempted to take a picture. because how could he not? you looked absolutely ravishing, all splayed out on the bed for him, the lace on your body leaving little to imagination as your bare skin was so exposed to him, so... ready.

the note you'd left on the nightstand only made him smirk, but he didn't want to ruin the image in front of him so soon by rushing to use you like the note had asked him to.

instead, he slowly crawled over the mattress to kiss you, and kiss you, smiling at the way your breath would shorten slightlt, and the way your lips would part, as if readily accepting his desire even as your eyes remained peacefully closed. and by the time he pulled back, your mouth was glistening with saliva, almost swollen from all the kisses he'd used it for.

but rafayel wouldn't remove your lingerie, not just yet.

he'd pull his pants down and take out his cock, already hard, already leaking with pre-cum. and he'd start pumping. soft, slow strokes at first, easing him into the pleasure of it as he'd lean back, eyes raking over your body as he stroked his length, his cheeks quickly becoming rosy at the stimulation he was giving himself. and then he'd move faster. his hips would buck into his hand, and soft, quiet groans would fall from his lips. he'd do his best to suppress them, not wanting to make any unnecessary noise that might wake you up—

and then when he releases, his cum would splatter all over your body, ropes of white falling all over your lace as he'd lean back, breathless.

his lips would tug into a smile as you shift slightly in your sleep, his gaze turning into one of pride and admiration both.

his little masterpiece.

"oh, princess... i'm not finished with you yet."

xavier would have jumped in surprise at the sight of you, nearly having to grab the doorframe for support. he knew you'd be here—though he had seen your messages late (and he felt incredibly guilty for it), he knew you'd texted that you would be waiting at his apartment. but he wouldn't have expected this. you, all dolled up for him, wearing such revealing lace lingerie, only covered slightly by a flimsy, see-through nightdress. his eyes would slowly scan over your figure as he'd let out a shaky breath, and then he'd immediately notice the note on his nightstand, all prettily dressed up in the same shade of ribbon that held your little nightgown in place.

and perhaps, that would be it for him—his uniform would be off in seconds, his hands moving to slip off the delicate fabric and push the lace of your thong to the side.

"fuck," he'd curse under his breath, because even you couldn't know just how aroused and needy you would never fail to make him.

and needy, he would be.

though he would try to be as quiet and gentle as he could be—not particularly wanting to wake you up—his movements would be quick and shaky, a clear struggle of holding himself back. within seconds, his mouth would be on your cunt, drinking up the wetness that spread so quickly, having you wet and ready for him so easily. he would lap at your juices, eyes closed, enjoying your taste, and then he'd never be able to make himself wait any longer.

he'd steal a glance at your face as he'd slowly push himself inside you, soft whimpers falling from his lips, as your body twitched slightly. and he'd think to himself with a smile that his actions had probably spurred on a dream, but there would be very little self control left in his body. his thrusts would gradually get faster, deeper, until he was no longer trying to be gentle—he'd fuck you awake, his cheeks flushed, his mouth open in quick, short pants.

"m-mmh... ah-" he'd moan as your eyes open wide, hips bucking into yours in a desperate pace.. "g- g'morning, angel..."

zayne often arrived home late.

you knew this, and now, using you in your sleep had now become a common, long-established, consensual act. on days where he had long night shifts, you simply always expected something to be in store for you the coming evening... and this time, you decided to play things up a little and dress all prettily for him.

and zayne would have been nothing less than pleased at the sight of you when he returned home.

his lips would curl up into a small, satisfied smile at your sleeping figure. you looked so innocent, and so pretty, in your pastel floral lace set—just the way he liked to see you, and just enough to get him all aroused. and you had always given him explicit permission to do as he wished even while you were asleep, so he would make use of that.

his would take his time undressing himself, hanging his coat up neatly in his closet, his steps towards the bed slow and careful, not at all wanting to wake you. and then he'd start with gentle caresses. he'd loom over your body, placing soft kisses all over your face, your jaw, your neck, your shoulders... and then he'd lean up, whispering soft nothings into your ear, despite knowing the fact that you were too deep in your sleep to hear him.

zayne never rushed things; he'd take his time. trailing his fingers over your lace, your breasts, before dipping down to palm the wetness of your cunt seeping out from your thong. "always so wet," he'd whisper to himself, wondering if through all the times he had done things like this to you, your body had developed an automatic response to his nightly presence.

and then his fingers would be inside you, pumping, thrusting, so gentle and so nicely, almost comforting enough to lull you deeper into your sleep, harder to wake you up when he'd claim you fully. his movements were always precise, and this moment would not make it any less—determined to stretch you out and prepare you for him, determined to ensure that even your sleeping figure would enjoy every moment of the pleasure he would give you.

so when he'd push his cock into you, it's easy, and it's natural—and it's perfect.

zayne would fuck you all the way, so slow and sensual in his movements, that you wouldn't awaken from your sleep at all. you would only ever stir, and breathe out soft moans of his name, almost as if somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew what he was doing to you, probably enough to spin lewd dreams inside your mind that he would love more than anything to pry out of you in the morning.

"good girl," he'd coo into your ear. "good girl, taking me like this in your sleep."

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

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sluttsumu · 3 months

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high for this - zayne

i just can’t stop thinking about dr. zayne.

personally i love a man with a phd but something about him is so inviting. behind that stoic demeanour is a stone cold freak, a pleasure dom if you will.

zayne is the best partner really; who else would be suitable enough to turn you out, other than a man whose studied the human body his entire career.

—

“no moreeee—” you drag, knees buckling around the vibrator he held right on your clit.

you’d been going at this for 30 minutes, and this little experiment of his is driving you nuts.

seeing how much he can repeatedly make you cum had been on his mind, he couldn’t help but put it to the test in the most efficient way.

“another one,” he repeated for about the fifth time. “you can give me another one sweetheart.”

he watched how your body reacted, how your breath hitched, voice cracked, muscles spazz, even they way you beg for him to stop just to want more in the end. it was quite analytical for him, but that’s just what comes with the job.

“i— ah— gonna cum, fuck! ‘m gonna cum— again..”

your incoherent babbles put a small smirk on his face, not that you can see it considering he’s seated behind you, toying with your pretty pussy in his lap.

“high on all that dopamine,” a slender hand reaches to your throat squeezing just enough to make you feel a little dizzy. “let’s give you some more yea? since you’ve been so good for me.” the euphoric bliss of reduced blood flow, and lack of oxygen to the brain — or more commonly known as asphyxiation.

you could feel the tightness in your head as your eyes roll back, a single tear streaming down the side of your cheek as your hips bucked, cumming for the fifth time in his lap.

as long as zayne had you in his grasp he’d give you the best orgasms until you found your favourite way to cum for him.

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atsuwumus · 3 months

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ᥫ᭡ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐒 . . .

๋࣭⭑ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : mature content, minors dni 18+ only. sub! deepspace men, slight hair pulling, begging, bondage, teasing, blind folding. um... did I forget something??? xavier's is a little nasty eheh (≖ᴗ≖ ✿)

๋࣭⭑ 𝐌𝐀𝐈 𝐌𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 : teehee ... (๑﹏๑//) something no one asked for but I couldn't shake this from my brain. will be writing a dom version for this idea as well!! erm... not proofread so if you find a mistake no you don't

𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 : "You know the rules. No touching."

Something vibrates from deep within Zayne's chest and it sounds far too close to a moan than anything else. This is torture, he thinks, watching through a heavy lidded gaze as you ever so slowly shed another layer of clothing. You've been subjecting him to this teasing abuse for almost half an hour now, swaying your hips to the low beat coming from his stereo, prancing around him in nothing but a pair of panties and lingerie he was just itching to rip off.

"You're quite the vixen tonight, aren't you?" he murmurs, the timbre of his voice sending ice curling through your veins, a low and pleasant sound that only beckons you closer to him until you're right in his trap. "It's enchanting. If I were any smarter I would say that you're trying to get my heart racing."

Zayne's hands are icy when he plants them on your hips, firm and demanding, pulling you down right to where he wants you. He's aching, cock straining hard against his suit pants, throbbing when you finally press down against him, your cunt quivering when you feel the familiar outline of him. A hoarse groan escapes his lips as he tilts his head back, relishing in the feeling of finally feeling you again, but his pleasure is momentarily when you push up to your toes, hovering over his lap.

He blinks your beautiful figure back into focus, opening and closing his mouth several times as he searches for something to say. You had laid the rules out for him long before this little game began and he had just broken the number one rule - no touching. He watches with a lump in his throat as you step back, light little steps all the way back to the bed, spreading yourself out among the dark satin sheets.

"Oh, Zayne.." you sigh, your voice a mixture of a dreamy sigh and something a little more sensually sinister. "I don't envy your position. Guess now you'll just have to be a good boy and stay put while I play."

His hands tighten into fists as he watches you through low lashes, how your hands skim up and down your skin that he ached to touch. Perhaps this is his punishment for making you beg for it. Time for a taste of his own medicine.

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 : The satin winds around his wrists in intricate lines, binding his wrists together and leaving him vulnerable in the palm of your hands. You never thought your boyfriend would agree to this, but it was surprisingly easy to get him to fall right into his trap, luring him closer and closer with the promise of pleasure.

And the sight of him wrapped up like this was one that you were determined to tuck into the cracks and corners of your mind, to remember forever.

You've made yourself comfortable on his lap, his bound hands behind your back, essentially keeping you locked in his embrace. Every now and then you can feel the gentle brush of his thumbs as they brush over your back, seeking bare skin, warmth, how you shiver with every grind over his cock. He wasn't one that ever minded messes and he wasn't about to start now, especially not with the way you were dripping over him, your folds parting a little bit each time the leaking flushed tip of his cock met your cunt.

Your forehead is pressed tightly to his, light strands of hair, slick with sweat, tickling your own but you can't find it in yourself to complain, not when it feels this good, to be pressed chest to chest. Rafayel fights to keep his eyes open, to keep his focus on your face and not the way you're making him drip. Puffs of hot air hit your face and if you focus hard enough you can hear the whines woven between them, feel how he ruts his hips up every now and then, seeking more.

"Tell me how it good it feels," you whisper, your glossy lips dragging across the heated skin of his cheek, feeling how his breath trembles and shakes. "Tell me how much you like being tied up for me."

Rafayel's spit-soaked lips part, the syllables shaking on the tip of his tongue when you press down harder against his aching cock, whimpering a weak, "I-I do-"

"Yeah?"

"Ngh- Yes. Yes, fuck, I do. I do, baby, I do so much." A high-pitched whine sneaks past his lips. "Just, please, fuck me."

𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 : For a man who's calm, collected and never shaken by anything in battle, Xavier's breathing is shaky. His hands seek you out with desperate touches, stumbling over the sheets, fumbling with the crevices and dips of your hips until he finds your hand.

"I..." he licks his lips, pauses, and exhales a long breath. "I quite like this."

You nudge your cheek into his other awaiting hand as you bend down a little, a small smirk spreading across your face when you notice how red his cheeks have gotten. How you wished he could see how pretty he looked like this - blindfolded, on his knees in front of you, desperate to please.

You coo softly, watching as Xavier perks up when he feels the familiar warmth of your body spilling across his own when you shift closer. It's almost comical, how eager he seems, like a puppy wanting to please its master. You let your thumb run over the silk draped across his eyes, obscuring his vision, ensuring he wouldn't be able to see between the cracks before murmuring, "You're such a good boy, aren't you?"

A hum vibrates in the back of his throat and he nods, perhaps a little too eagerly. But you're not satisfied with just that, threading your fingers between the strands of light hair. Xavier makes the mistake of nudging into your touch before you tug at the strands, drawing a strained moan from his lips, the high pitched sound soon dissolving into a pathetic moan.

You glance down at his boxers, raising one of your brows at the dark stain that decorates the material, huffing out a stale chuckle. "Oh, you poor thing," faux sympathy laces your words as you speak. "Don't tell me you came from his a little bit of tugging and teasing?"

Xavier's cheeks are red, his neck flushing an even deeper color and he attempts to duck his head, yet the grip on his hair you currently have prevents him from doing so. Shamefully he rocks his hips up, seeking friction but being met with nothing. You tut before gripping the strands once more and Xavier has no choice but to follow your touch, up, up and up until his nose brushes against the inside of your thigh.

A long whine escapes him as he presses his nose against the dampness of your panties, inhaling deeply as his hands fly south to press against his boxers, squeezing his cock.

"Please," he whispers, his words muffled between your thighs. "Please let me make you feel good, please. Just one taste, I swear I'll be so good to you."

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nath-sanvit · 2 months

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"The most potent magic potion doesn't need to be consumed to work" - Rafayel, Fragrant Dream.

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archonsabyss · 2 months

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╰─..✶. [ Love Consumed ]

❒ Featuring: Zayne; Sephiroth; Madara Uchiha x Fem!Reader [individually]

❒ Genre: smut [nsfw 18+]

❒ Warnings: choking in zayne's! penetrative sex! unprotected sex! nudity! fingering! mention of blood! boob sucking! spit/saliva! oral (f)

❒ WC: zayne 1.3k | sephiroth 1k | madara 788

─❒ Authors Note: i was thinking so hard about their back muscles, biceps, and shoulders that I decided to put these three into the same post?? like the brain rot is real, so real!! And no it's not favouritsm with the word counts, they ended perfectly just where it was meant to 🤍

# 𝖹𝖠𝖸𝖭𝖤

The silence that dwindles within the apartment is oddly comforting, enough to have the tension leave your shoulders as you stare through the windows watching the flickering lights and the ongoing traffic. While you immerse yourself in the tranquillity, a subtle presence embraces you from behind. Zayne's quiet steps draw near and then he envelops you in a back hug, his bare chest meeting your exposed back.

"Does my bed not meet your comfort standards?" He inquires, the playful tone barely evident in his voice. You promptly shake your head dismissing the notion.

"It's alright"

"Alright?" He chuckles, the sound resonating like a warm melody. Zayne's arms tighten around your waist, "I see you're a tough critic when it comes to beds,"

You playfully nudge him with your elbow, "It's not about the bed, it's about the company"

His grasp subtly tightens, and he lowers his chin onto your shoulder. His hands gradually wander lower, leaving you breathless. "Well then, I'm glad I have your approval as company," He murmurs, the heat of his breath gently caressing your ear and you incline your head to grant him further access. The closeness between you elicits pleasant shivers down your spine, a sensation both comforting and exhilarating in its intensity. A gentle breeze stirs through the open window, bringing the fragrance of his cologne to envelop your senses. The air crackles with tension, each moment escalating. His warm mouth plants wet kisses on your shoulders and his fingers playfully tease your sensitive entrance before a single digit slips into your drenched core, causing your knees to instantly weaken, already fatigued from the many previous rounds. His strong arms serve as the only support, moulding your body against his, turning you into pliant putty in his grasp.

The whimpers that escape your lips are like the melodic notes produced by strumming a guitar and the hands that orchestrate you are as adept and efficient as the music they craft.

"Not enough yet?" Zayne remarks with a rather smug tone as his hand smoothly wraps around your waist and guides them to press against his growing erection while his fingers plunge deep inside you. You find yourself unable to respond; the sensation is euphoric but overwhelming and there's a fear you won't be able to keep up. Your head spins as his unrelenting pace continues to escalate.

"You ought to be resting; there are only four hours of night left," He says as if he's not the one who instigated this, as though he's not the one who has kept you awake the entire time. A choked noise slips from you as his free hand gradually glides up your stomach to encircle your neck, his fingers flexing, and veins delineating a course from his hands to his forearms. He starts with a tender squeeze causing your eyes to roll back. This time, your knees weaken completely, leading you to stumble forward but he swiftly withdraws both hands from your neck and core to catch you. Zayne lifts you into his arms and carries you to his bed a mere five feet away. As he places you on the bed, a subtle, almost elusive smile appears on his lips, and without uttering a word, he hovers above you and reconnects his mouth with yours. The kiss intensifies instantly, deepening as he moves his body against yours. The rhythmic motion of his hips creates friction, stirring desire, and causing his arousal to heighten even more.

Your hands wander across the expanse of Zayne's chest, his lips parting, and breath mingling with yours. Amidst the pleasure, you can't help but be captivated by the sight of his flexing muscles, tousled hair, and a delicate sheen of sweat, casting a radiant glow upon his skin. As you withdraw gasping for air, you meet his gaze and notice the furrowing of his brows, a clear manifestation of his lust. The intensity in his eyes could be daunting for someone unfamiliar, yet your trust in him allows you to perceive the struggle. His expression reveals a man torn between restraint and a desperate desire to succumb to his yearnings.

"Perhaps taking a rest would be wise," he suggests, though in reality, it's merely a courtesy, as the choice isn't truly yours tonight. Not when you've stirred him to the point of endless arousal, plunging him into a state of complete obsession and addiction.

Smiling at him with a vacant gaze, you extend your hand between you, caressing his swollen cock, causing him to flinch and emit a hiss.

"Perhaps satisfying me would be wiser"

Zayne chuckles, shaking his head, as he reaches down to intercept your hand still in motion, compelling it to release its grip before pinning it above your head.

"I suppose you're right"

"I'm always right"

"That you are, my love" He never refuses and never denies, in his eyes you are right and you are wrong, everything good and everything sinful. His senses get lost, and his rationality and sensibility grow legs and walk out the door. When he's with you, he only sees you. Taking a slow steady breath, he aligns his cock at your soaked entrance and without warning thrusts into you, stuffing you to your breaking point. You squirm within his grasp, your voice resonating like a collapsing skyscraper as you gasp and moan his name.

"Shhh, deep breathes" Zayne's features align in a determined gaze with furrowed brows and a fixed, intent expression, embodying a clear sense of focus as he watched the way he penetrated you, your slick seeping and coating his cock. The scene is mesmerizing, pushing him closer to the edge of release. He lifts his hand and slides his thumb between your parted lips, pressing against your tongue, causing your eyes to nearly roll back in pleasure. Your body moves in rhythm with his, the bed shifting beneath you as drool escapes from your mouth. You're thoroughly fucked and it hasn't even been that long.

You murmured his name in a hushed chant as his thumb tantalizingly danced over your tongue. Zayne adjusts his hips, and his cock finds its mark, causing you to erupt in a series of gasps and chokes.

"There?" He asks, but you're holding back tears. He chuckles, saying, "Perhaps a little higher then?"

His hands grasp your hips firmly, leaving the promise of lingering marks. Pulling you back with each commanding snap of his hips, he relentlessly pounds into you, affirming his enjoyment in tandem with yours. A forceful movement sends his cock even deeper, targeting that sensitive spot within which forces your back to arch and your core to tighten around him. With a high-pitched whine, you're hurtled into an intense orgasm. Zayne isn't far from climaxing, his hips moving erratically as he pursues his release. With a few more thrusts, his movements become unsteady and he buries his cum deep inside you, filling your core with his warm essence.

He stays in place as your cum mixes and your breaths regulate, his member gradually softening as he awkwardly withdraws from you. You instinctively tighten, attempting to prolong the connection for as long as you can physically manage and he finds amusement in your actions but doesn't resist. Instead, he scoops you up into his embrace and holds you close for a fleeting, perfect moment, fulfilling every desire you've ever harboured. You think this is how the night─ morning concludes but suddenly you find yourself lying on your stomach with his chest pressed against your back and his nipples teasingly grazing your skin.

His lips linger by your ears, "Rub yourself against me"

You turn your head to look back at him, although it's hard you're able to catch his gaze, marvelling at his endurance. With genuine curiosity, a sudden realization dawning on how you've ever managed to walk after such an extended and vigorous encounter, you ask, "Do you ever get tired?"

His fingertips glide across your shoulder blades as he plants a kiss on your shoulder, his erection growing harder as it presses against your ass.

"You have a way of making it all worth it. Tired? Perhaps a little. Regretful? Never."

# 𝖲𝖤𝖯𝖧𝖨𝖱𝖮𝖳𝖧

Rarely, if ever, did Sephiroth flinch when a blade breached his skin, nor did he flinch when a dagger meticulously etched countless cuts across his body. With blood trickling from the wound, a slight tilt of his head and a small smirk were all he offered in acknowledgment of the attack, but when it boiled down to revealing such intense and immersive emotions there was no one else but you who could draw them out of him.

A haze of lust and desire looms over you, the room growing warmer with each movement. Sweat accumulates and all rational thoughts elude you, your mind blanking when his hips adjust and he thrusts into you with relentless intensity. Your nails dig into his shoulder as your back lifts off the bed in response. He seems no more tired than he was when he came home and took you to bed; his strength and stamina show no sign of waning, evident in the powerful thrusts he delivers repeatedly. Your moans ascend from the depths of your throat and reverberate off the walls of the room as Sephiroth lifts one of your thighs over his shoulder, driving his cock deeper. No barriers are remaining between you; clothes lie scattered across the floor and the sheets are in disarray, half off the bed.

Sephiroth's hair cascades down in silver strands, sleek and flowing like a cascade of liquid moonlight. His eyes gleam with the untamed animalistic instinct, driven to madness by pleasure.

"Sephiroth," You gasp, pulling on his hair and he responds with a passionate and demanding kiss, his warm lips pressing fervently against yours. His cock twitches and his rhythm falters upon hearing his name escape your lips. The sight of tears streaming from your eyes etched itself into his memory and pushed him closer to the edge. And when your pussy tightens around him he yields, fully immersing himself.

Your arms encircle his neck as you throw your head back onto the pillow heaving for air because damn, he was so ravenous that his hunger permeated the intensity of his movements. Your willpower is reduced to nothing, overridden by the pleasure coursing through your body, igniting an intense passion that erases any hint of the dignity you present to the outside world. Your lips seek his and he chuckles at your neediness, sliding his hand beneath your back to lift your body from the bed and press against him. Sephiroth adjusts your position, ensuring your head falls back onto the pillow more comfortably. His hand then trails down to where your bodies are entwined and his fingers tease your clit, causing you to clench the sheets, but when you can't grasp them your nails dig into your palm.

Sephiroth locks eyes with you as he brings his fingers to his lips and licks them clean, "You taste like the sweetest sin," He murmurs, his voice a low seductive timbre.

"Well, aren't you the poetic one in the throes of passion?"

"Only for you." He smirks, his lips tracing a path down your neck until he reaches your nipple. He licks all around the nub before taking it into his mouth, sucking gently and eliciting a high-pitched whine from you. Upon withdrawing, a string of saliva links his mouth to your nipple, and he gives it one more gentle peck. Desperate for more, with tension coiling in the depths of your stomach and sensing Sephiroth's unwillingness to move, relishing in watching you squirm for release, you take matters into your own hands. With all your strength, you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him down, his cock burying a little deeper. Despite your strength typically being unable to keep up with his, Sephiroth had foreseen the move and felt obliged to allow it. A light chuckle escapes him as he supports his weight with one forearm resting on the bed beside your head, while his other hand grips your waist, his hair draping to the side.

"Let me take control."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because, my love," He whispers against your lips. "I want to watch you unravel beneath me"

You can't help but smile at his response, the intensity of his gaze stirring a delightful anticipation. "Fair enough," You concede, surrendering to the allure of the moment but just when he least expects it, you deftly shift positions, pushing him onto his back as you hover above him, and the training you've undergone finally proves its worth in this unexpected moment of vulnerability. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders, your gaze admiring the sight of his sculpted body; broad shoulders lead to well-defined arms, each muscle carved with precision; collarbones, subtly tracing delicate lines that add an elegant touch to the powerful physique, imparting a visual symphony of strength and grace. Without warning, you roll your hips against him. Sephiroth's eyes widen ever so slightly as your mouth descends upon his in a swift, blurry motion. He reacts on instinct. Your lips smack, saliva exchanging and you rub yourself against him.

The feeling of your body above him and your focused expression with furrowed brows and pursed lips distracts him to the point that he doesn't notice how his groans gradually shift into moans. His grip on your hip tightens and with his permission, you've assumed control, and your relentless consistency is anything but gentle. The way you continuously bounce on him in search of release, yet denying both of you the satisfaction, drives him to insanity.

As you feel his cock reach its deepest point within you, it's not you who moans and flinches, but Sephiroth. The frown of his brows and the tight closure of his eyes catch you off guard. The temptation to tease him lingers, but the moment evades you as he seizes you and forcefully returns you to the position he adores the most – on your back beneath him. Grasping your wrists with one hand, he pins them above your head and you witness the breathless state you've induced in him and you're thrilled, raising your head to plant an innocent kiss on his neck.

"You've had your fun," He says unamused.

"Not nearly enough, but yes"

"You'll have to wait your turn, little one"

You gently tuck strands of his hair behind his ear. "I'm not known for my patience, Sephiroth."

"Well, consider it a test of your endurance."

# 𝖬𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖠 𝖴𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖧𝖠

Your hands frantically seek something to grasp onto amidst the overwhelming surge of emotions that race up your spine and cloud your thoughts. Every fibre of your being ignites with heat as his skilled fingers withdraw and playfully trace over your pussy, gathering your cum on his fingertips and tracing it sensually across your folds, crafting an intimate tableau of his desire. The gleam in his eyes becomes more pronounced as he witnesses your reaction, fueling a desire within him to elicit more of such responses from you.

"Please, I can't" You moan, your body pleading for a moment of respite, silently urging him to ease the pace but Madara remains merciless and unyielding as his finger traces circles around your entrance before plunging back in, knuckle-deep with unwavering determination. The explicit wet squelching noises intensify as his fingers penetrate and withdraw, incessantly pushing you to the brink. Your quivering lip finds solace against his shoulder, your palms pressing against the expanse of his back muscles as your toes curl in search of an anchor amidst the overwhelming sensations. Madara deeply absorbs the vision of your blissful countenance – your perfect lips parting for him, echoing his name, accompanied by gentle pants and erratic heartbeats. Your back arches into his touch, further fueling the intensity of the moment. As your clit is captured between his thumb and index finger, the applied pressure intensifies and you reach your climax. Your voice ascends to new heights, echoing his name as you reach the peak of pleasure for the third time.

Madara withdraws his fingers as your cum releases. He gazes in amazement, wordlessly guiding his fingers to your lips and gently yet assertively urging them inside. His thumb presses against your tongue and he buries his head into your chest, his mouth attaching to your breasts. His heated tongue teases your erect nipple, playfully flicking against it. Your fingers weave into his dishevelled black locks, gripping his skull firmly as your head tilts back against the solid ground. He then withdraws his fingers from your mouth and showers the nipple untouched by his mouth in attention. The pleasure sails through your veins like a speed boat across an ocean, leaving you unable to articulate the sensations he evokes.

With a soft 'pop', his mouth disengages, signalling a pause, yet it's far from the conclusion as you catch sight of his head descending to where a new ache has emerged through blurry eyes. His tongue plunges deeply into your core, and you gasp, struggling for breath as his hand secures your waist, anchoring you in place. The knot of your impending orgasm tightens in anticipation.

"Madara" You implore, needing him to pause, to grant you a moment to catch your breath. But the intensity of his desire knows no bounds, and he continues his sensual exploration, driven by a hunger that matches his unrivalled pride as an Uchiha.

"Please, just a moment"

"You ask too much of me, my dear" He groans, pulling back just enough to utter the words, completely intoxicated by the flavour of you. He lifts your leg over his shoulder and feels as it shakes when his mouth moulds around your clit and he sucks hard.

That alone is enough to make your orgasm reach its peak. And you cum, faster than you've ever done before.

Madara's head emerges from between your legs, his mouth coated in your release. His lids briefly shut, as if collecting himself. Despite the proximity where no air manages to breathe its way between your chests, you cradle Madara's face, drawing him up to meet your lips. You savour the taste of yourself on him but focus more on the love you long to exchange with him.

Lying beneath the night sky embraced by a celestial canopy of stars, You fixate your gaze solely on him, captivated by the affection in his eyes as he gazes down at you. The back of his hand gently brushes against your flushed cheeks, evoking a sense of warmth as you strive to steady your breath.

"You have the most captivating eyes,"

"Thank you," You reply but your voice is barely audible and soon the resonance of his hearty chuckle fills your ears, reverberating as his chest rises and falls, and his eyes crinkle with amusement. In one seamless motion, he effortlessly lifts you into his arms and swaps positions, settling on his back with you nestled against his chest. His warmth replaces the firmness of the ground beneath you and he reaches out for his discarded kimono to drape over your naked body.

"Rest, my dear. The night stretches on, and we will continue once you've caught your breath,"

2K notes · View notes

zaynesaurora · 2 months

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ʟ&ᴅꜱ ! reaction to you sending a nude — (MDNI)

a/n: underboob mentioned once, otherwise gender neutral!

ᴢᴀʏɴᴇ ! desperately tries to steer the coversation away from your unpromted image, going through his typical questioning of your day- have you ate, drank water? did you sleep? You humour him of course and he thinks he's successfull in his mission until you directly ask him about it again. He shifts in his swivelling chair, rolling himself backward so he can adjust the tightening material covering his crotch- ' You're beautiful, darling', glasses pressing into the bridge of his nose when he drops his face into his palm.

xᴀᴠɪᴇʀ ! fumbles with his phone between both hands when he opens your message and the swell of your underboob peaks from under the contact name- phone dropping to the floor, screen up and the full image on show when his clumsy fingers enlarge the picture instead of locking his device. He's never moved so fast in his life, knee's cracking as he plummets to the ground shortly after- face reddening, brain running into over drive because now he has to find a bathroom, quick.

ʀᴀꜰᴀʏᴇʟ ! zooms in, inspects every nook and cranny before sending you a nine square colour pallet in return- met by utter confusion on your end. You send him full frontal nudity, spread wide and he sends colours back? is this what true humility feels like? - phone buzzing in your hand when he sends a follow up, ' thank you for the new swatches baby! your nipples are a pretty colour btw'. You don't hear from him for a few hours. He's too busy working. So he says.

— bonus—

ᴄᴀʟᴇʙ ! barely misses a beat before sending one back, shirt caught between his teeth and hand proudly holding himself at full mast- ' I was just thinking about you too, I guess the feelings mutual?' god he's so horny. You can't even call him out, not when you were infact thinking about him.

840 notes · View notes

dualitue · 2 months

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𝑹𝑨𝑭𝑨𝒀𝑬𝑳, 001.

"𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘮 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘮 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯, 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘦𝘧𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴, 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘐'𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘢𝘯, 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦."

★: please don't tell me that this would suit zayne more i realized that it was too late and i felt too lazy to change it. besides rafayels growing on me so i had to write him. i also got lazy by the end and didn't proofread this so don't expect much T_T reblogs and any possible thoughts are appreciated!!!! <3

★ oral (f. receiving) + body worshipping + whiny couple + fingering + aftercare mentioned + doing it while being sick may not be the best idea but who cares!

An act of kindness is what has started it all, really. He often times thinks of you as a thick-skulled, naive girl thanks to your thinking mechanism that pushes you to go above and beyond just to lend a helping hand—but how can he blame you, really? It's not some grand gesture for a spotlight; it's just you being yourself. A courageous heart, pulsating with an urgent need to make a difference. Regardless of the timeline, the universe, or the body you inhabit, your soul always manages to peek through the cracks in the shell. Unaware that you leave an imprint with every breath, he worries that your innocence and tender heart may be a permanent fixture.

Rafayel should have realized you were trouble from the start.

Once you catch wind of someone in need, nothing else seems to register in that mind of yours.

He should have steered clear of you, or perhaps he should have wished for selective memory loss, anything to rid himself of the torment that plagued his every moment at the thought of you. Whether it's a curse or a blessing, he can't be certain, and the uncertainty gnaws at him. Memories of his days submerged in the depths of despair, yearning for you like a man starved... Truly, a memory loss would have spared him those endless, restless nights haunted by your memory. He vividly recalls the relentless hunger for the connection between his mind and yours. He used to believe that waiting for the one you love should be painless, like a fairy tale reunion. However, reality was far from enchanting, his days consumed by torment. Your radiant face invaded his thoughts every time he closed his eyes, and sometimes, he didn't even have to delve into the realm of closed eyelids. Whether it was his mind playing tricks or a disconcerting desperation for you, there were moments he found solace in the dreams of you, right before his wide-open eyes.

In those dreams, your hair took on a darker hue underwater, the waves cradling you warmly, dispelling any fear. He was convinced the ocean would hold you dear, intimately familiar with your name. Your every movement, the way your hair framed your face, the melody of your voice—these elements combined, making it impossible not to be captivated. If he had known the outside world held you, he would never have considered leaving the comfort of his home. Yet, that's the hand of fate, a concept you humans often label as destiny.

Rafayel remains baffled by the mysterious workings of this thing called fate. Is it akin to a magnetic force, or does it mirror the intricate patterns of the ocean? The idea of one's entire life being meticulously planned before even opening one's eyes, waiting for the precise moments when everything aligns, isn't a matter of him being unable to grasp the logic. It's more about the undeniable sense that everything in his life, leading up to the moment he encountered you, felt purposefully directed to bring him to you, and you to him. Love, as it turns out, was a weighty burden he had never anticipated carrying around.

That's likely the reason his gaze carries a tinge of sorrow today. Seated on the vacant space of the couch while you rest, your once radiant eyes now only half-open, your lips slightly parted to ease your breathing. He appears and sounds concerned, though he understands that your fever prevents you from recognizing the emotional turmoil he currently grapples with.

"You're already playing the hero as a Hunter," he remarks, his fingertips registering the warmth of your skin—feverish, and he can't help but check it persistently. "What more do you need to offer as a hero? Was it really necessary?"

You remain silent, the weight of your breath filling his expansive studio, visibly swallowing. No regrets about your actions, but a nagging thought that perhaps a bit more contemplation would have been wiser.

"Hey, don't doze off on me now, answer me."

His tone is insistent, almost desperate, a hint of anger present, though directed more at the ceaseless need within you to be helpful all the time.

"What do you want me to say?" you reply, your chapped lips stinging with each uttered word. "I couldn't have said no, not when it was clear they needed help."

"You could!" Rafayel counters like a petulant child, his selfish side revolving entirely around you resurfacing. "You know you could have! Work and favors are different, and you weren't tasked with assisting a nerdy sociopath in retrieving… what was it again?"

"Rafayel," his name escapes your lips softly, a reminder of the unintentional power you hold over him. The mere sound of his name from you stirs something within him, and Rafayel can't help but feel a bit flustered. "I really don't want to talk about this."

"Fine," he snorts, still clearly irritated but acknowledging your lack of stamina for this conversation. "Go to sleep, then. I'll see what I can do for you."

"Not invading my personal space and laying off the nagging would be more than enough, highly appreciated, really."

A soft, breathy laugh accompanies your words. Despite the occasional sharpness of your comments, both of you understand they're lighthearted, devoid of any malicious intent.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just close your eyes. This is my house, and personal space is a non-existing concept here. Take it or leave it."

"I can't leave; I'm sick," you murmur, your voice huskier than ever due to the severe cold. "Looks like I might have to take it."

"Such a smart girl," he teases, a hint of mockery in his voice, his gaze fixed on your slightly red face. "Wish you could use that pretty brain of yours in situations like this. I feel sorry for you sometimes."

"I feel sorry for myself, too. Your sassiness doesn't spare me even when I'm sick. Plus, this is the worst cold I've ever had. Feels like I'm on my death bed with you right next to me, nagging and scolding."

He's well aware it's just a passing moment, that you'll bounce back from this illness soon enough. Yet, even the casual mention of it in a lighthearted and trivial sentence makes Rafayel squirm uncomfortably beside you.

"Shut up, don't exaggerate."

"Guess who I learned that from?"

"You're insufferable," he declares, finally rising to search for his phone, cast somewhere in his room.

"You won't believe what I'm about to say, yet again," he marvels at your knack for matching his energy, finding himself increasingly addicted to this dynamic.

"Let's get you somewhere more comfortable, maybe you'll actually manage to fall asleep and spare me the constant nagging."

"You're the one who brought me to your place when you found out I was sick!"

You stifle a laugh, resisting the urge to appreciate his caregiver side a bit more. However, your expression gives you away; the corners of your mouth twitch, a smile reaching your eyes before gracing your face.

"Ha-ha, very funny. So funny that I can't even bring myself to laugh, fearing I might never find anything else amusing ever again."

The studio carries a subdued ambiance today, courtesy of the gray clouds and dismal weather outside. Despite the apparent disorder, there's an inherent harmony within its chaotic appearance. Unfinished paintings scatter around, some paints meticulously organized by tone and hue, while others haphazardly rest on a small table in the corner. Curtains drawn wide, tall windows invite as much natural light as possible, creating an atmosphere reminiscent of pressing a seashell against your ear—faint waves hitting the shore.

With a single effortless motion, Rafayel lifts your weakened body, his concern palpable as he carries you to his bedroom. Surprisingly, you feel lighter in his arms, despite your condition, as he carefully settles you onto his bed. Profoundly sweating, you've lost count of the shirts Rafayel has helped you change into. He's already arranged for a doctor to examine you, initially fearing the worst, only to discover it's a severe cold exacerbated by exhaustion. With medication in hand, Rafayel diligently ensures you take your doses, managing the situation with utmost care.

Except for his own sanity.

Seeing you in such a vulnerable state for the first time, you appear unlike the confident Hunter he knows—or perhaps it's his own perception, magnified by witnessing your illness firsthand.

Compared to the rest of the house, Rafayel's bedroom feels refreshingly cool, providing a welcome relief to your feverish skin.

"This feels nice," you murmur as he lays you gently on the bed, the softness of the mattress embracing you instantly, coaxing your eyes closed. "Like being hugged by the sea on a hot summer day. Cool and comforting."

Your words, uttered innocently, send a shiver down Rafayel's spine.

Being hugged by the sea… comforting…

Suddenly, he's overwhelmed by an urge to hold you even closer, to let you feel the steady rhythm of his heart, to assure you that the embrace of the water is always within reach.

"That's probably because your fever hasn't gone down; just get some rest."

"Will you stay here?"

You weakly tug on the hem of his shirt, your eyes opening a bit more, almost peering into his soul.

"I will," Rafayel responds, immediately sensing he can't leave you alone even for a second, though he refrains from showing it. "If you ask nicely enough."

"Oh, shut it," you laugh, covering your eyes with the back of your hand. You stay like that for a while, eyes closed and hand resting on your face, when you feel his warm breath gently caressing your skin. A sudden urge to gulp overtakes you, your heart pounding so rapidly it feels as if it's not a heart but a bird begging to be set free.

"Come on," Rafayel murmurs, every puff of breath warming your face and body, as if you haven't fallen victim to a fever. "Just ask, it won't hurt, right?"

"I've changed my mind."

"Don't spoil the fun now."

His slender fingers wrap gently around your wrist, and to your surprise, his skin is cold against yours. Despite the fever that makes you feel like you're boiling from the inside, your body craves that cool touch. Rafayel lifts your hand, slowly and carefully, pinning it against the soft pillow under your head. Now, you have no choice but to look at him, your clouded eyes meeting his shining ones as both of you let the silence linger. It's not awkward, but neither is it fully comforting—there's a subtle tension you can feel, adding to your fever, and tears well up in your eyes as you stare at him.

Rafayel feels like there's a dagger stabbed right into his chest, turning and turning like a fallen leaf on an autumn day—he shivers the more he gazes into your widened eyes and parted lips. He can't be sure if it's just your fever that's bringing a sweet tint of red to your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and even the tips of your ears. All he can do is hope that, regardless of the circumstances, he's able to make you a bit flustered.

Without much thought, Rafayel presses his palm against the burning skin of your red cheek. You feel soft to the touch, and his hand is cold enough to elicit a calm, sharp breath from you. A thick fog envelops your mind and thoughts due to the fever. While it was worse a few hours ago, it still clouds your basic thinking skills. Your body is burning, but you're sure it's not that feverish. Knowing you're sick adds a psychological discomfort—you subconsciously nuzzle against his big, cool palm. A soft whimper escapes your parted lips as you lean into Rafayel's touch, his palm covering your cheek as your eyes flutter closed in a seemingly calm manner. He doesn't dare utter a word, fearing he might disrupt the moment. It feels intimate and vulnerable; he's offering a simple act born from his feelings for you, and you're fitting into his hands like the matching piece of a puzzle.

"If you could touch me all over with these cold hands, I think this fever would just disappear," you murmur against his palm, resembling a cat seeking affection. Ironically, he doesn't even like cats, but it's not about them—it's about the vulnerability of the act. You may not realize what you're saying, but Rafayel's head spins with thoughts he dare not speak. His fingertips ache to reach and tug on the hem of his shirt you're wearing. He could get you out of it in seconds, exploring every inch of you, leaving nothing untouched.

He releases a shaky breath as his other hand lets go of yours, beginning to touch your face and neck. His breath comes out shaky as his fingertips explore the softness of your face before descending to your neck—a sacred area. He senses you gulp as his palm presses against the front of your neck. The pressure is almost nonexistent as he gently caresses your skin. You don't feel brave enough to open your eyes; his touch alone is intense, and you're uncertain of the intensity awaiting you in his gaze.

"What if I accidentally make you feel hotter than before?" Rafayel breathes out the words, his voice low and hesitant as he whispers. You gulp again, making him feel the movement against his palm as he takes another sharp breath. "We wouldn't want that now, would we?"

Summoning courage, you slowly open your eyes to gauge Rafayel's expression. The moment your eyes meet his, Rafayel swallows back a desperate whimper. He wasn't prepared for your heavy gaze, feeling crushed under its weight, as if there's a demand he might not be able to satisfy even with his all.

Both of you remain awfully quiet as Rafayel's fingers slightly wrap around your neck, fitting like a perfect necklace. He gently gives the faintest squeeze, leaving you lightheaded. Your eyes get even glossier—you're like a doll, spread out in his bed, wearing his clothes. It's impossible not to be overwhelmed.

"I don't think your cold hands would betray me like that," you whisper, still feeling a bit dizzy from the gentle squeeze around your neck. Does he even realize the effect he has on you? It seems like he's testing the waters for both of you, exploring your reactions and his own feelings. The sensation is dizzying for him as well.

Remembering that this isn't the right time for something like this, Rafayel reluctantly pulls his hands back, though he yearns to have them pressed against you. It doesn't matter where he touches you; all he needs is to feel you under his touch.

"No," you whine, eyebrows furrowed. Your hand slowly reaches up, grabbing him by the sleeve of his shirt to bring his hands back to your face and neck. "Keep them, it feels nice."

"You have no idea what you're asking for," Rafayel murmurs. "Just because the waters are cold doesn't mean they won't swallow you whole, silly girl."

"Don't care," you shrug.

Rafayel hums in response, his fingertips trailing down to the hem of the t-shirt you're wearing before his hands sneak under the thin fabric after you give him an affirming nod. "If only you could be good and listen to me," he gently caresses your torso, your skin feeling soft and warm as he can't stop himself from traveling higher. His fingertips touch the fabric of your bra this time, and both of you feel yourselves shaken to your cores; a soft whimper falls from your lips unlike Rafayel, who's giving his all to keep it quiet for now. "Do I have to tire you out to make you sleep?"

You cannot give an answer, you're already feeling high on the feeling as his cold fingertips slip under your bra too, causing your nipples to get hard and perk up immediately. You slightly arch your back to signal him that you want it off, and Rafayel is quick to pick up on that; with a skilled and swift movement of his fingers, he unclasps your bra.

You should've checked the weather forecast more carefully, really—well, you don't feel as feverish as before, but your body feels heavy. Maybe it's because Rafayel is so adept at kneading you into the state he desires you in, who knows? With your lips slightly parted and heavy eyelids veiling the intensity of your eyes, you accept Rafayel's touch as if it's the only thing that can help you now. He pushes the hem of the t-shirt up, and you feel him tapping the side of your body. You sit up slightly to give him the access he asks for, and Rafayel doesn't waste any time. He quickly gets rid of the t-shirt and bra. Now, even the air feels cold against your skin—his hands are comforting, but the air in his bedroom causes shivers to run down your spine.

All that can be heard from Rafayel is his heavy panting as he changes his position, seating himself between your legs and slowly hovering over you as he leans in. You want to tell him that he's going to get sick after all this, but you don't have the heart to mess this moment up by bringing up such an obvious and silly thing. The sound of Rafayel's first kiss right on between your breasts echoes in the room, or that's how it sounds to you, loud and exciting—the kiss makes you breathlessly moan as you grip the sheets underneath your hands. You know what to expect, you know what's to come, but still you can't help that slight shaking of your body when Rafayel's hot mouth takes in your nipple. You try your best to hold yourself back from tugging on his hair, pressing yourself more to him, or any possible desperate act of this neediness that you have for everything that he can possibly give to you. However, as if you've lost control of your movements, your hands softly find their place in Rafayel's soft hair—experimentally tugging on, just to get a muffled deep groan against your skin.

His head moves slightly, his tongue lazily twirling around your nipple as you're withering underneath him—with one hand, palm pressing against the inner side of your thigh, Rafayel makes you spread your legs further so that he can get into a position that's also comfortable for him. Your fever feels as if it's turned into a bonfire, crackling and ready to swallow both of you whole as soft noises of yours fill Rafayel's ears. He breathlessly gulps before teasingly taking the sensitive nipple between his teeth—the act is enough to send jolts throughout your weak body, you tug on his hair harder than before.

"You enjoy that," he whispers, amused and amazed by your reaction as he tilts his head up slightly to stare into your glossy eyes, only to lean in and repeat the same action. You cry out, feeling like you're melting in his hands as he keeps teasing you. He's not doing much, but you're embarrassingly wet as he continues the act. Your panties immediately get damp, and it feels uncomfortable at some point. "Don't get ideas," you say with a huff of air escaping from your parted lips. They feel dry because of the level of heat embracing your trembling body.

"Don't you think that you're a bit late to say that?" He whispers against your skin, his hands resting on the sides of your body, fingers gently caressing the skin accessible to his touch. His mouth keeps pressing kisses all over your chest between each word. "You've given me quite a lot of ideas. I might push the limits to their fullest if you keep making those pretty noises."

"Rafayel," a gulp, loud enough to shake him to his core. "Don't play, please."

He groans in defeat, eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly—how can he say no? How can he possibly say no when your heartbeat is loud and fast enough to be heard? He sits on his knees first, freeing you from your sweatpants and your embarrassingly soaked panties—the sight of your glistening folds immediately gets a reaction from him; a desperate whimper as he throws the pieces of clothing somewhere in his room. His fingers move down as he lays on his torso on the bed, sliding down, supporting your legs by grabbing the back of your thighs and pushing your legs to your chest—the position has you all red, the blush spreading down to your chest as you're now fully exposed to him. To ease off the unnecessary tension you feel, Rafayel presses a wet kiss to your inner thigh. His hot breath hits your sensitive skin, and it feels like this has meant to happen at some point, and this was the perfect time.

"You've got to tell me to stop now if you're not sure," Rafayel's whisper intensifies the sensations, and you feel a hot wave hitting you, making you jolt as your knees almost touch your chest. "Because once I get a taste, I know that I won't be able to stop."

His voice sounds much deeper, and you feel almost threatened by the tone alone—possible thoughts related to what he can do to you run havoc in your mind as you stare at him with empty eyes. All you have in your mind is that you need him; you crave whatever he can give you—of course, you're not going to tell him to stop at any point.

So you stay quiet, your eyes locked with his in an intense gaze as he looks up at you from between your legs. With your fingertips gently playing with his hair, you keep your silence, hoping that it'll be enough of an answer. Yet, it turns out that it's not enough of an answer.

"You need to use your words," Rafayel desperately murmurs this time, pressing wet and open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs as he breaths sharply. "Please, tell me that you want it, I need to hear it from you."

He looks so pretty from this angle—well, it's a well-known fact that he is undoubtedly a pretty boy, but the way he's looking up at you with those expecting eyes and that expression of raw need on his face makes something in you snap suddenly. You part your lips, but it suddenly feels kind of embarrassing to say it out loud. Rafayel moves up and closer to your face, his hand cupping your cheek, and you immediately lean into his touch with your eyes closed. "Look at me, baby, say it."

Your lips part apart slightly as you open your eyes slowly, your dry lips press the lightest kiss to his thumb—and it makes him absentmindedly push his finger into your mouth. Ironically, this act gives you the push that you need. Before wrapping your lips around his thumb, you give him what he wants, you say what he needs to hear.

"I want it," just three words, uttered lowly and slowly, and coming out all muffled because of his finger exploring the warmth of your mouth—and it pushes him over the edge. "Fuck," breathlessly falls from his lips, drawn out in a long way. Rafayel pulls his hand back, his thumb staying close to the side of your mouth as he kisses you—the kiss is sloppy and it shakes you to your core. His thumb lightly gets in the way but none of you seem to care about that, the hunger you both have for each other feels insatiable as Rafayel licks into your mouth. Wet sounds of your lips moving hungrily against each other fill his room as Rafayel takes his time with tasting your lips, savouring the taste of your long gone lip gloss as you moan into his mouth, in turn, he happily drinks in all your pretty noises.

You lazily throw your arms over his shoulders, his messy and soft hair meeting the gentle touch of your hands as you two share a desperate kiss. Suddenly, you can't even remember the reason you're here in the first place—all you can think about is the way Rafayel is so, so into you. The way his one hand stays pressed against your cheek while the other pushes your hair out of the way before traveling down to the side of your waist and caressing the skin feels intimate and arousing at the same time. You try to break the kiss, to take a much-needed breath, but Rafayel doesn't let go of you. His hand holds your head in place, his lips getting more eager and hungrier as his body tenses under your skillful hands softly caressing his hair.

"Can't breathe," you finally manage to get the words out when you push him gently by pressing your hands against his chest. His skin feels as hot as your feverish one, but you can still feel the subtle chill to his hands. "Rafayel, wait—let me, ah, breathe a second."

He is long gone, lost in the whirl of primal emotions that he has fallen victim to. His lips are relentless, his head seeking a feeling that he can only expect from you in the crook of your neck—his kisses trail a wet line along the side of your neck. "Okay, okay," he whispers, visibly trying to calm himself down. "I just—ah, shit, I just need to feel you somehow, taste you."

The way his words come from a feeling that is unfiltered and genuine has you succumbing to his desires. You feel the need to give your all to him, to offer yourself in any way possible, in the way he wants you. As you throw your head back to give him more room, a breathless "yeah," falls from your lips. "Yeah, okay, go on."

Rafayel becomes unstoppable once he gets your consent, once he realizes that you're okay with this. And that's really all he has to get from you to feel something snap in himself—a whiny whimper falling from his lips etches itself into the soft and hot skin of your neck as his kisses follow each other all the way to your shoulder.

"I'll be so good to you," he breathlessly reassures you, even though you don't need any reassurance because you know that he will. You know that he will be such a good boy for you—he will be able to tame that burning desire in you in such a way that you'll get hooked on the feeling. "I know," you, too, reassure him, letting him know what he does to you with little to no effort. Just by following an instinctive feeling, he has the power to rule your body and your mind.

His cold fingertips trail down on your body, finding their place in between your legs. The feeling of his fingertips ghosting over your slick folds make both of you moan, your back arches, your body begging to get the best of this feeling. Even though he's peppering your body with open-mouthed kisses, you still feel embarassingly empty somehow—even this thought alone is enough to get you all flustered and shy.

For some time, it's probably minutes but feels like an eternity, none of you speak; just enjoying the feeling of your bodies pressed against each other. Your hands are as mindless as usual, you don't know what to do with them as Rafayel rubs your aching clit in a teasing way; you feel yourself growing impatient, desperately needing him to make you feel full, it doesn't matter how he does it, but he has to do it.

"Rafayel", you whine, impatiently tugging on his hair as your body feels like shattering into million pieces and being kneaded into this desireful shell from the scratch. He hums in response as his kisses start to trail down further down to your torso, it kind of tickles—your body jolts forward when he playfully bites the side of your waist. Swallowing down all the shyness, you try to push his head down a bit more, leading him to your weeping cunt—the sheets underneath you and your inner thighs are damp with your wetness. The way Rafayel manages to get you this turned on and this wet makes both of you gasp when you feel his fingers gathering the slick and smearing it to your folds as if you're not wet enough. The swift movement of his fingers against your folds make you suck in a sharp breath, your body feels like it's about the explode if he makes you wait for it any more than this moment.

"What is it, Miss Bodyguard?" He taunts you, or you think that he does so, it really doesn't matter at this point. "Running low on patience?" His voice is deep, and you feel him finally adjusting his position as his lips press a kiss right to your cunt. You immediately cry out, the movement feeling as intense as it can be. You tug on his hair again, needing the feeling again, and you hear him chuckle. To your relief, he does it again, again and again—teasingly sucking on your clit between the kisses.

"Maybe you should've listened to me," Rafayels pants between the kisses. "I told you to go to sleep, didn't I? You wouldn't be begging like this if you could've just listened to me in the first place."

You cannot find the right piece of your mind to answer him, he's good at making you unable to think properly. Your only answer to him is another low moan—making him get al the answers he needs. You want to tell him to stop the teasing, but the feeling is so good that you can't even acknowledge his words. Rafayel looks pretty from where you're looking at him, his hair doesn't do any justice since it hides his eyes but you're sure that you won't be able to bear the intensity in them if he ever looks into your eyes. His shoulders look broader when he's buried between your trembling legs, the way his biceps flex while his arms are hooked around your legs to keep you in place makes you suck in a shaky breath.

His head moves up and down, his tongue deliberately exploring and tasting you. You grind against his hot mouth, and he groans in response—loving the way you're demanding more from him. It's almost like he exists to serve you; Rafayel has always been attentive to your wants, and to give you what you want now is nothing but pleasure to him. His tongue moves skillfully and also hungrily, you think that you might cum at any given moment—and the thought is a bit embarassing, really, because you want to enjoy the feeling a bit more.

Just as you part your lips to say something, Rafayel slowly pushes a finger inside your cunt—eliciting the most delicious moan from you. You're burning up now from the inside, feeling your body becaoming helpless and succumbing to his mercy as he starts to finger you slowly at first. When your walls stop clencing around him, Rafayel adds the second finger—this is even more dizzying, and you feel yourself getting suffocated by the feeling alone. It'll never measure up to the way his cock stretches you out, but he manages to satisfy you no matter how.

"Hag—ah, Rafayel," you breathlessly mumble, your heavy eyes falling to his broad shoulders again. He's still fully clothed, so you tug on the sleeve of his shirt, that's when he tilts his head up to look into your eyes directly. The sight of him makes you dumb; his chin is wet, his lips glisten, and his eyes carry such intensity and adoration that you stumble upon your own words. Stuttering, you say, "take it off," but Rafayel chuckles as a whisper before leaning down again to suck on your clit while also moving his fingers faster than before.

"No."

"No?"

"No. This is about you feeling good, not about me. Just enjoy it, don't think of anything else."

You open your mouth to protest, but he doesn't even let you start.

"Well, I might be enjoying this more than you maybe, just to let you know. You sound pretty," he breathlessly murmurs, words coming out slurred as his lips presses kisses to your inner thighs. You feel yourself getting even closer, and your body slightly trembles—you can't help but press your legs to the both sides of his head, keeping him there, where he belongs prettily.

"Because you're a pretty girl, aren't you? Even when you're as stubborn as ever, even when you're crying underneath me, you're always a pretty girl, making pretty sounds," his fingers start to move even faster now, your legs shaking on both sides of his head as your chest heaves up and down with your erratic breaths.

Before you need to say it, Rafayel can feel that you're about to cum—your walls clenching around his wet fingers are enough to let him know. He doesn't stop nor does he slows down, on the contrary, in addition to his fingers he gets back to sucking on your clit. It doesn't take you long to cry out his name, or you think so, complete gibberish falls from your lips as you cum—thrashing around his fingers while your body is shaking. Rafayel keeps fingering you and eating you out through your orgasm, tasting you like a man starved as you hear the slick sounds of his fingers and his tongue. Feeling overly sensitive, you gently push his hand back, and he obliges—slowly pulling back to look at your face. Eyes heavy, cheeks tinted with red, chest heaving up and down... he's glad that he's able to paint you in any way in his memories. What would he do if he couldn't do that? Well, he might've had to make you cum again and again until it became impossible to not see you whenever he closed his eyes.

"Ssh, my pretty girl," he whisper as he gets on the same level as your face, there's the slightest smirk on his face as he carefully pays attention to every detail about your face, and your expression. "You good?" Rafayel asks.

"Yeah, yeah I just—uh, I think I just need to..."

"Sleep, maybe?"

"Yeah, that."

Rafayel laughs, low and genuine, soothing you as you listen to it. You want to kiss him, accepting the fact that you'll taste yourself if you do so, but your eyelids feel so heavy that you cannot resist against the drowsiness taking over you.

"Okay, do that then." Rafayel slowly gets up from the bed, and you can only guess how hard he is after all that—your hands ache to touch him, take his hardened cock out of his pants and help him relax, too.

"But you—"

"I told you that this is about you," Rafayel says, walking to the bathroom, You lay on his bed, feeling cold, immediately missing his warmth. He comes back with a wet towel, sitting next to you before he starts to clean you up.

"But, of course, this doesn't mean that I won't ask for what's rightfully mine," he softly chuckles. "But only when you're feeling all better, now sleep."

And you do as he tells you to do so, a slight smile forming on your lips as you close your eyes—realizing that you've needed this sleep really bad, but still had Rafayel to serve you like a true devotee.

#🩰.ela writes #love and deepspace #l&ds #love and deep space rafayel #rafayel smut #rafayel x reader #rafayel imagine #l&ds x reader #l&ds smut #l&ds rafayel #love and deep space x reader #love and deep space x you

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aeyumicore · 1 month

Text

☾ .⭒˚ heart within reach ♡ zayne x afab reader

⋆.˚ ☾ pairing: zayne x afab!reader (very fem!reader)

☾ .⭒˚ genre: smut, porn with some plot

⋆.˚ ☾ word count: 5.6k

☾ .⭒˚ content warning: mdni, car sex, road head, fingering, messyyyy cum smearing, slight degradation (just one line), finger sucking, somewhat public/voyeurism?

⋆.˚ ☾ video link: not necessary to watch in order to read and enjoy, but i highly recommend watching the memory for context and a visual for the fic! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3hUtBlb2fjQ

☾ .⭒˚ a/n: HELLO FRIENDS i am back with my twist on the new ‘heart within reach’ memory with zayne :)

i’ll likely be releasing fics at a FAR slower pace now, as i find myself lacking motivation lately and wanting to do other things instead of write. i don’t plan on quitting at all! just will be slower <3 but i’m always checking tumblr and twitter (@/aeyumicore) if you want to interact with me!

please enjoy!

⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚

you hummed to the low volume of the music thrumming in zayne’s car, the two of you sitting in his audi in front of your apartment building. you didn’t want this perfect day with zayne to end, a day spent together with no emergent surgeries, no threat of wanderers, just you and zayne enjoying the fair and the sunset.

“thank you for hanging out with me today,” you smile softly at him, unwilling to get out of the car just yet.

“you’re welcome,” his hand still rests on the steering wheel as he peers at your apartment through the front dash, “let me know when you’re inside.”

you sigh internally, not at all surprised at zayne’s dismissive words. “okay, ” is all you say as you turn to open the passenger door. but before you do, you decide to glance at him again. he doesn’t make a single sound as his head hangs low, his hand still gripping the steering wheel.

you sigh, trying your best to bury your neediness. you didn’t want the night to end yet; it was rare zayne got full days like today off…or nights. nights where zayne would literally make you forget your own name, only knowing how to chant his name over and over.

“don’t forget mr. seal,” zayne murmurs, snapping you out of your desperate and filthy thoughts of him.

“you don’t want to keep him?”

“he won’t like my house. it’s too monochrome and…simple.” he twists his body to reach for the seal plushie he’d won for you at the fair. you suppress a giggle when instead of grabbing the toy, he speaks to it.

“hello.” you want to tease him for his stoicness even when speaking to an adorable plushie.

“you’re scaring him, dr. zayne!” you burst out laughing, and zayne joins in, the sound of his deep chuckle burrowing deep into your brain and making your heart flutter. it wasn’t often zayne smiled or laughed, he preferred to smile with his eyes. but when he did laugh, it was the most precious sound you’d ever heard.

“i have nothing else to say.” you can’t tell if he means nothing to say to the plushie or to you.

“yeah…see you later?” you say softly. you want to kick yourself for your own unyielding stubbornness, wanting him to show you that he might want to spend more time with you too, that he might want to spend the night with you. it would be much easier if you could just swallow your pride and ask him to come in.

but zayne speaks again before you can even move. his voice is exceptionally low, so much so that your breath hitches, “i was wondering…if i had forgotten something. and if you were upset because of it.” you grin a little, your disappointment fading little by little, knowing he’s teasing you now. knowing he’s fully aware of what you want from him, and that he wants to give it to you. but he wants to make you work a little for it.

“do you remember what you’ve forgotten?” you quip, unwilling to be the one to give in.

“i’m not sure…” his voice is throaty with what you hope is desire, but you stay steadfast in your resolve, unwilling to be the one to admit that you don’t want to leave yet. so you lean in, close enough that zayne can feel your warm breath fan across his face. he does his best to hide the way his breath catches in his throat at just how close you were.

“look zayne,” you say brightly, doing your best to keep your voice from wavering at your proximity to the man you adored with your entire heart.

“what?” comes his curt response, but you can see the way his eyes sparkle with amusement.

“me!”

zayne chuckles, his smile reaching his green eyes, “i know what you look like.” he reaches to stroke your face, playing with the strands of hair that fall into your eyes. you force yourself to keep your eyes on his, and to not let them fall to his lips, that you want on yours so badly. he speaks again, this time his low voice is almost sad and reminiscent, “after this i wont be able to see you for quite some time.”

his hand grabs your chin this time, tilting it upwards so that you’re more level with him. you so desperately want him to pull your face to his, capturing your lips that he does so knee buckling well, “since we’re both very busy we should meet up whenever we can.” he’s very careful with his words, but you can feel the longing in his tone. he will miss you as much, if not more, than how much you will miss him.

“what are you thinking about? you’re smiling.” his fingers still grip your chin, gently but demandingly, not letting you look anywhere but at him. you don’t answer, but your smile widens as you look at his amused deep eyes. you have a feeling he knows exactly what you’re thinking of.

“well…i think i might be very close to the answer,” he murmurs, eyes flitting downward to your lips. your heart skips a beat as you catch him staring at your mouth, wanting nothing more than for him to kiss you. you steel yourself, trying to calm your pounding heartbeat, intent on dishing back all of zayne’s feigned cluelessness.

you poke his cheek and your voice comes out playfully, “will you dream of me tonight zayne?”

he chuckles, his hand darting up to touch where your finger grazed, hoping you don’t notice the way his cheeks flush at the slightest touch, “…we did visit a lot of places and i am tired. however it seems unlikely.”

you roll your eyes at the game the two of you were playing and you refused to be the one to give in. you poke his cheek again, pouting, “then i won't dream either.”

zayne catches your hand, still trying to poke his cheek, clenching it softly in his hand and bringing your joined palms down to rest on the center console of his luxurious car. his fingers are cold around yours, but you feel them slowly warm up as they hug onto yours.

when he doesn’t release you from his hold, you peer at him curiously and cocking your head to the side, “why are you still holding my hand, dr. zayne?”

he smirks, thumb rubbing circles onto your wrist, “i’ve only confiscated it. i’ll return it when you decide to behave.” you bite back a shiver at his words, your resolve dissolving little by little. you clench your thighs at the look he gives you, your body always reacting readily to his double meaning laced words and heated expressions of desire.

he leans in, bringing his free hand up to your cheek, cupping it gently. his other hand still holds yours, “alright, it's getting late. you should go home.” despite his words, you can sense the hesitation in his voice. but still, you turn to leave.

“...yeah, bye,” you murmur. but zayne’s grasp on your wrist tightens, pulling you back.

“when would we be able to meet up again?” his voice is hopeful, adorably so. zayne brings his phone to his face, the screen lighting up his face in the dim darkness of his car, twinkling like the lights outside.

“let me guess, your schedule is packed?”

zayne ignores your quip, “next week, sunday.” it’s not a question, he’s telling you. the charge in his voice, the demand, the demand to see you. it makes your skin crawl with anticipation.

“if we’re seeing each other sunday, then ill start getting ready on saturday,” you beam at him, already giddy with excitement. zayne lowers his phone to stare at you.

“anyway…” you lean in to touch his face but pull away just as your fingers are about to caress his cheek, “good night.” you’re about to whip your head around to get out of his car but zayne captures your chin and leans into you. your incessant teasing has backfired, as you find yourself caught like a prey in zayne’s hungry stare. you gulp as his eyes flutter to your lips, and yours to his.

“if i’m able to see you sunday, i'll start getting excited thursday,” zayne’s voice is deep and husky, and he leans in to take your lips into his. you can’t suppress the moan that escapes your mouth as his soft and cold lips press into you. he smiles against you, sensually caressing every part of you against his tongue and pulling you impossibly closer with his fingers on your chin.

he kisses you deliberately, taking it impossibly slow. you can vaguely hear him chuckle into you through the pounding in your ears as your tongue begs him for entry into his mouth. he grants it willingly, and your tongues clash deliciously, leaving you whimpering as your panties dampen at just the feel of his mouth on yours.

you whine when zayne pulls away, to which he chuckles, fingers stroking your chin soothingly.

you speak up and glance at him, his lips alone dissolving all of your stubborn determination, “wh-why should we wait until sunday? i…i don’t want to go yet.”

the content smirk that graces his face makes you blush, “where do you suppose we go?”

“why don’t we take mr. seal to your place? i want you to keep him. so he can see his new home, and we can all watch a movie!” zayne smiles warmly at your giddiness, absolutely in love with the way you light up at the thought of spending more time with him.

“are you sure?” he murmurs softly, almost having to force himself to say the words and fight how much he would love to bring you back to his place and spend every second with you. “you’re not too tired?”

you bite your lip, trying to tamp down your blinding grin and furious blush, “take me to your place zayne.”

zayne wastes no time in peeling out of the street, but leaves his hand on your thigh as he drives with just his left hand. you peek at him through the corner of your eye, admiring how his sharp and defined jaw connects to his bobbing neck, the muscles so defined under the faint night lights. his fingers slowly inch their way under your skirt, rubbing circles into your bare thighs. you pray zayne doesn’t notice the way your thighs press closer together at his touch.

his grip on the fat of your thighs only tighten, using his fingernails to torturously graze inexplicable shapes into your tingling skin. through the edges of your vision, you can briefly make out his satisfied smile.

of course he’s purposely trying to torture you. well two can definitely play that game.

you lean over the center console, looping your arms around his free arm, laying your head into his bicep and intertwining your fingers with his. you can feel his muscles stiffen for a second before they relax under your embrace, his fingers tightening with yours.

“is it okay that i’m coming over?” you murmur into his clothed muscular arm, kissing against the smooth fabric up to his shoulder.

his voice comes out in a grunt, one that makes you smile to yourself as you squeeze his taut muscles. he clears his throat, “yes. why wouldn’t it be?”

your hand moves to rest against his thigh, “you don’t invite me over very often.”

“do you want to come over more often?”

your fingers dig into his thigh, just barely but enough that his thick quad muscles tense up under your touch. despite being the one in control, you can’t stop your voice from coming out as a mere whisper, “of course. i want to see where the amazing dr. zayne lives. where he eats, where he reads his medical journals, where he…goes to sleep at night.” you relish in the way his breath catches ever so slightly at the mention of his bedroom.

when those words leave your mouth, your hand reaches to graze his crotch. you bite your lip in surprise when you’re met with his hard length. filled with renewed confidence, you grasp his erection through his pants.

“y/n…” his voice is a feral warning, “behave.”

but his words only spur you on further. you find yourself replaying every single time zayne has driven you to blinding, world shattering orgasms. his hands on your throat, lips on every inch of your skin, manhood buried deep inside. your thighs clench as your slick continues to dampen your panties, and you decide you don’t want to wait or behave.

your fingers move to undo his belt but zayne’s hand releases yours to grip your hand that’s trying to undress him, “i’m driving.”

his hold is tight and refuses to let you venture further into where you want to go, “you’re a surgeon…i know you can multitask.” you shimmy your fingers from his grasp, but he only grips you tighter. his jaw is clenched and his adam’s apple bobs as he speaks, voice a raspy plea for mercy.

“this can’t wait until we get to my place?”

but you only pout at him, even if his eyes are locked on the road ahead, “please zayne?” you know how he loves when you beg, using it to your advantage. “i’ll be such a good girl for you.”

your pleas make him briefly snap his eyes to yours, off of the road, as his cock threatens to rip through his slacks, wanting nothing more than to be released and seek your touch. in his brief moment of weakness, you deftly free your fingers and undo his belt in one fell swoop. zayne hisses as your hands reach in to grasp his massive erection in your palm, still not used to his more than impressive size no matter how many times he’d molded your cunt into its shape.

“you will actually be the death of me, y/n.” you giggle at his words as your hands find their way to his bare manhood and bring it out into the tepid air of the car, marveling at the way it twitches at every tiny graze across your fingers. you lean over as much as you can against the restraint of your seatbelt, so you can earnestly jerk him up and down in your soft palm.

zayne’s grip on the steering wheel tightens, his knuckles turning deathly white as he groans unabashedly at your ministrations. the sound of his moans hits your ears, fueling your confidence and the burning desire in your gut.

zayne thrusts ever so slightly up into your grip, chasing the feeling only your body can bring him, “jesus i’m not gonna last long like this.”

before your confidence has a chance to dissipate, you unlatch your seatbelt and lean you torso over the center console. zayne’s eyes bulge but remain on the road, his hands still holding the steering wheel with a deathly grip. you can tell he’s about to scold you, the worry evident in the way his every muscle tenses under your touch. but before he can reprimand you, you let your tongue swipe the underside of his cock, all the way up to his thickly swollen head.

zayne’s words die on his lips as a strangled growl rips out instead, his hips bucking into you as you take his head fully into your warm mouth. you purposely suckle just his engorged tip, desperate to make him lose complete control because of you.

“ffucking hell y/n,” he moans, squirming under you and raising his hips just slightly, still trying to maintain a tight grip on his self-control. you hum into him, letting the tip of your tongue flick continuously over his leaking slit. the taste of him is sweet on your tongue and so damn addicting. zayne’s breath is so heavy, you can practically feel his body heave up and down with his deep breaths.

finally, you sink lower, taking as much of him as you can before he hits the back of your throat. you gag around him, throat constricting around his thick length as he keeps the car shockingly steady and straight on the road. you feel one of zayne’s hand leave the steering wheel to gently thread itself into the hair on the back of your head, rubbing soothing circles into your scalp as you bob up and down.

“throat’s so damn tight,” zayne grunts out, keeping his eyes on the road ahead of him.

with how tall zayne is, his seat is far enough back where you can rest your head on his lap, between him and the steering wheel, without endangering your lives. so you rest the side of your head on his lap, lips attaching to the base of his manhood, looking up at him through the blurry tears on your eyelashes. you teasingly lick at him, eyes trained on his flushed face. his eyes occasionally flit down to stare at you in lust-crazed awe before darting back to the road.

“make sure you keep your eyes on the road zayne,” you sing, licking his length like a popsicle, refusing to take him back into your mouth just yet.

“i will, just be a good girl and keep sucking for me baby.”

your chest lurches at his words, absolutely loving his subtle pleas for you. his voice is so urgent with demand and need.

your body aches from your awkward position over the center of his car, but you want to give him more. you bring yourself back up to take him back fully into your lips. starting slow, your pace gradually picks up until you’re full on fucking your throat onto him and the sounds of your gags and moans, his throaty praises, and the obscene squelches of your lips on his soaked cock fill the car.

“shit, i’m gonna cum soon love,” zayne grunts, his hand in your hair a bit more forceful now, pushing you down onto his cock while still maintaining flawless control of the car. you’re unable to contain your deep moans of satisfaction as he grips your head, forcing you to take more. you love the way he’s coming undone for you, evident in the way his hands grab at you fervently and the uncontrollable stream of lust-filled moans leaving his lips.

his length inside your mouth twitches as you diligently suck him off, savoring the taste and feel of him in you. your moans vibrate all around his throbbing length, helping to push him into releasing his load into you. his hips thrust gently into your mouth as his hands push you down, letting his cock fuck into your mouth with the most torturously delicious rhythm. the way your tongue works around him makes him shiver as he alternates between watching the road and you with dilated eyes. you can barely register the effortless turns he makes with his single hand, or when the car grinds to a smooth stop.

“fuuck – my girl is doing so damn good for me,” he breathes out, the lightest whine in his throat which strokes your ego. your heart flutters when he calls you his, and your throat tightens as you continue to bob.

zayne’s grip in your hair tightens, “gonna cum, you’re gonna take it all right?”

you hum in approval. the vibrations resonate in every inch of zayne’s leaking erection as he explodes into your mouth and down your throat, his load so thick and heavy that it threatens to make you choke.

“jesus fuck – hah – fuck,” he swears as he shoots out endless ropes into your throat, his release never ending as your lips and tongue work in tandem to prolong his pleasure.

zayne strokes your hair as he languidly thrusts up into your mouth, riding out the last waves of his intense orgasm. you do your best to swallow every drop, but stray rivulets of his spend drip down your chin as you release his cock with a pop.

as you sit up, zayne watches you in awe and adoration, reeling from what just happened, what you just did for him. he grabs your chin once again, “open, let me see.”

you giggle, wincing slightly at the sore aches in your throat as you stick your tongue out for him to inspect. he uses his thumb to catch the cum falling down your chin, scooping it back up to your mouth. you take him into your mouth eagerly, always desperate to please him.

his eyes darken as he watches you lick his digit clean, so shadowed they reflect the night sky outside. it’s then you notice that zayne’s car is parked, and not in front of his home. you look out the tinted windows and see you’re back at the bridge overlooking the linkon river, only it’s completely empty and dark now that the sun has set.

“why are we–” but yours words are cut off as zayne unlatches his seatbelt and swiftly exits the car and opens the back door, leaving you confused. you’re about to get out too but zayne is on your side in an instant, opening your door and yanking you out. you yelp as he hooks his arms under your knees and easily carries you out like a princess.

“zayne!” you squeal, “what are you doing?!”

he doesn’t answer, instead leaning down to press his lips into yours, kissing you with a bruising passion that makes you lose your breath. you feel him lower you into his backseat, still hunched over with his lips firmly attached to yours. he quickly pulls mr. seal out from under you and places the plushie on the rear window shelf. you almost want to giggle at his actions, finding it adorable how he cares about the plushie enough to not just knock it over onto the car floor.

you pull away reluctantly as your back hits the cool leather, “zayne? what are we doing here? what’s going on?”

zayne climbs in between your legs, shutting the door behind him, and loosening his tie. you squeak when your skirt rides up and his knee pushes firmly against your cunt. you bite your lip as you watch him undo his tie, pulling it off completely before bending back down until he’s inches from your breath. his palm cups your sex under your skirt, pulling a surprised squeal from your lips.

“since you want to be such a desperate little cock hungry girl,” he murmurs, fingers moving your panties to the side and sliding his slender fingers into your dripping slit, “i’m gonna treat you like one.”

you moan as his finger breaches you, back arching off the backseat, grinding further into his finger.

“look at you,” he grins, “so needy for me. can’t even wait until i take you back to my place, huh?”

your response dies on your tongue as he inserts another finger, stretching you around him, “so fucking eager to have my cock in your mouth.”

you whine at the welcomed intrusion, fluttering around his lengthy fingers and doing your best to speak, “nnng, m’sorry zayne just needed to taste you so so bad.”

the content look of satisfaction lights up his handsome features, “what about this pussy baby? does she need me too?” your eyes roll into the back of your skull as he curls his fingers inside of you, your fingers seeking to clutch something, anything, to ground you amidst the pleasure. you try to answer his filthy words, but his fingers stroking your spongy g spot render you a blubbering mess.

“look at her,” he coos, “perfect little pussy was made just for me.” his fingers make you see stars. “you want to be filled so badly huh? can’t even wait until we get home?”

with his free hand, zayne reaches to bring his cock out, still painfully hard despite the unbelievable amount of cum he’d unloaded into your mouth.

against all odds, your brain clears for a brief second to let you think logically while your eyes dart around, “w-wait, what if some-someone sees?” the excitement builds in your core at the thought of zayne, who normally was so averse to any kind of pda, wanting you so badly he’d pulled over so he could take you in the backseat of his car in the parking lot of a public park.

but even at this angle you can tell zayne’s windows are so tinted, coupled with the darkness outside there’s no way anyone could see unless they had their noses pressed up against the glass.

zayne slips your panties down and off your legs, pocketing them before lining his leaking cock with your quivering hole. he rubs his tip up and down, brushing it against your swollen clit. your body arches towards him, begging to be used by him as your lewd moans ring in his ear.

“so?” he murmurs, ghosting along your hole but refusing to put it in just yet. “i would love for someone to see how this perfect little cunt takes me.” he inserts his tip in, just that alone knocking the wind out of your lungs.

“how it was made just for me to fuck,” he grunts, easing himself into you. one of your legs hangs off the car seat as the other rests on his shoulder. with one hand he holds your thigh and the other grips the door rest for support as he hunches over you. his words make your tummy stir, your cunt clenching around him. as he bottoms out, your hand clutches at the driver seat headrest, needing to ground yourself as he stretches you to the max.

“zaaayne,” you slur, “s-so big. feel soo good, please.” your hands reach to clutch at his perfect face, admiring the tiniest twinges in his muscles as he burrows as deeply as possible in your pussy that hugs him so perfectly. his hand releases its grip on the door handle to squeeze your hips, pulling and dragging you against his hard pelvis with every thrust.

the sound of your bare ass repeatedly pounding against his body rings in the small constraint of the back seat, the air thick with sex and arousal. you can vaguely feel your slick dripping down the plush of your ass, onto the leather as zayne fucks into you like he’s trying to find your esophagus with his cock.

through your hooded eyes you can see how fogged up the windows have become, ensuring that virtually nobody could see into the car. but if anyone did see the steamy glass it would be absolutely no secret what the occupants inside were doing. the thought of that excited you beyond comprehension.

zayne throws his head back as he continues his incessant rolls into your core, gasping out a deep and guttural cry, “heaven. you are heaven.”

his words have you whining, using your nails to clutch at his shoulders, clawing desperately at his muscles.

“ngh, z-zayne,” you pant, stray dribbles of drool dripping down your chin, your breasts bouncing with the force at which he spears you onto his body.

“look at you, soaking the damn seats,” zayne chuckles, eyeing the shiny slick on the expensive leather seats, “do you like it when i take you in the back of my car? like a needy little cock whore?”

you gasp at his words, unbelievably aroused at the utter filth that comes out of his mouth as he ruts as deep as he can into your velvet warmth.

zayne groans, “did you just get tighter?” his eyes sparkle as he gazes at you with adoration and reverence. “god, you like it when i talk to you like that huh?” you nod vigorously, fighting the blush on your cheeks and squeezing your eyes shut as you feel yourself succumbing to an incoming orgasm.

“so perfect, so fucking perfect,” he moans, cock quivering in your folds, “thought about this all fucking day.”

“i walked around that fair all day when i just wanted to be in here,” he places his fingers on the mound of your cunt and massages gently, a stark contrast to the brutal pace of his cock ramming inside your sensitive walls. “could fucking live in you.”

you whimper as his thumb shifts to your clit, forcing you to face your impending orgasm head on.

“zaaayne, i’m-im gonna cum,” you wail, hands finding purchase on his thick pulsing neck, nails digging into his nape, sure to leave marks. he hisses at the sting that only feeds the intensity of the pleasure he derives from pounding into your perfect walls.

zayne grabs your chin roughly, bringing your thrown back head back up to meet his heated and hungry eyes and then pulling your chin down, “watch. watch me fuck my load inside you.” you're instantly hypnotized at the sight of his slick and shiny length rutting in and out of you, the veins glistening and throbbing with need.

“good fucking girl,” he grunts, pounding into you with a new vigor as he reaches his undoing alongside you. your leg is bent in a muscle screaming angle while he roughly grabs the side of your neck, bringing your foreheads together as he makes his final thrusts.

keeping your eyes on where your bodies are joined, you cry out, “nnngh zayne, m’cumming. please, please, don’t stop.” zayne harshly groans at your pleas, the sounds of your unhinged begging forever ingrained in his mind. your climax causes you to squeeze unbelievably tight around him, sending him toppling over his own orgasm.

the sounds of your combined moans fill the air as zayne spurts rope after rope of thick and hot cum into your quivering hole. you whimper as he suddenly pulls out of you, eyes widening as you watch even more cum erupt from his massive length, the warm milky cum painting the outside of your cunt, leaking between your lips, into your rear, and onto his luxurious leather seats.

zayne is panting, clutching onto your thigh still thrown over his shoulder, “so fucking messy.” he uses his length, somehow still erect, to smear his cum all over the outside of your cunt, practically fucking into your lips. your entire body shakes as he brushes against your overstimulated clit.

“no-no more,” you whimper, scooting backwards into the side door and sitting up.

zayne smirks, “what happened to my impatient girl? you were so eager when i was driving.” he uses his index and middle finger to swipe down your slit, coating his digits in your combined spend.

bringing it up to your parted lips, his satisfied grin deepens, “since my girl is so eager for my cum, don’t want you missing the taste.” you roll your eyes, but take him into your mouth instinctively. your body always has a mind of its own, willing to do everything and anything to please the unbelievably handsome doctor before you.

zayne presses down onto your tongue as he watches you devour his fingers, biting back the groan of arousal. he pulls away, kneeling up to redo his pants. you sit up, trying to smooth out your clothing but there’s absolutely nothing you can do about the absolute puddle between your thighs.

“zaaayne,” you whine as he climbs off of you, feeling exposed as the warm sex-filled draft of the car brushes against your bare cunt, “where are my panties?”

his eyes glimmer with mischief while his fingers lovingly smooth out your wild thoroughly sexed up hair.

“i’ve confiscated them. you’ll get them back when we get back to my home.”

you pout at him, but don’t argue, knowing you will absolutely not get your way this time.

zayne throws his arm around your shoulder and you melt into his strong arm, feeling utterly exhausted and content. zayne leans over to kiss the top of your head, breathing in the smell of your pheromones and the arousal laced air. you watch the steam on the windows slowly dissipate to reveal how the night lights glitter against the calm river.

his voice is gruff, deep with satisfaction and tiredness, when he finally breaks the comfortable silence, “will you stay with me tonight?” his tone is calm and controlled but you can distinctly make out the faintest traces of desperation, which makes your heart flutter.

“i thought you’d never ask.” you don’t notice zayne’s faint sigh of relief as his arms grip you tighter against him, finding solace in the rhythmic way your body heaves and your heartbeat steadies.

eventually zayne, despite your cries of protest, carries you back to the passenger front door, placing you gently into the seat and buckling you in before getting back into the driver seat and starting the car. you squirm as the slick between your legs continues to drip, shifting so your skirt blocks the leather from your bare skin.

“will you dream about me if i’m sleeping next to you?” you tease, bringing up your conversation from earlier. you can’t help but admire the handsome features of his side profile as he focuses on the road.

though he doesn’t turn to you, you can see the quirk in the corner of his lips, “in order to dream, you need to sleep.” his hand leaves the steering wheel to stroke your knee, making you shiver at his possessive touch. “and since i plan to stay up all night devouring you…i won’t have time to dream.”

tag list: @queenashen @kttriangle @lyssa-211 @jeikeun @achicilove

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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 2 months

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≡;-꒰ 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 & 𝑫𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒔 𝑻𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒀𝒐𝒖

── mdni sexual content ; how the boys would tease you in bed. inclusive of: pet name usage, dirty talk, praise, edging, heavy petting, slight mentions of: vaginal sex, fingering, nipple play, oral (f. receiving) ✨

⁺₊ / an: i am a big supporter of these 4 being absolutely infuriating !! xavier's has references to "pretty little mess" if you've caught it 🤭

caleb was impatient at heart. the way he teased you would never have you begging, but always buckling under the weight of his desires, always hiding your face in embarrassment, at every way he'd elicit sounds from you that you didn't even know you could make. you've known him for practically all your life; the mere thought that he could get you like this, see you like this, made you flush impossibly red with embarrassment... and he knew. he'd call you pipsqueak when he spoke, a testament of the closeness of your relationship, and you would barely retain your sanity. he'd praise you, too—relaying in your ears how good you feel and how pretty you look with his cock buried deep into you, telling you every fantasy he'd had in his head, going on about how he's addicted to your pussy and he'd never be the same without it. every dirty word from his mouth had you whimpering, clenching around his length—you hated it, but you loved it. "Oh, fuck, pipsqueak... Takin' me so well like that... fuck, you're just so, so good—"

rafayel would simply be so aggravating. the two of you are always teasing each other, and he'd always find a way to get on your nerves one way or another. so, in the bedroom... well. he'd be smirking at the way your hips would chase his whenever he pulled out of you, almost laughing at your expense, pure amusement written over every inch of his body. he loved you, yes—but he'd never let you cum. not when he was in control; not when he delighted in your whines and your whimpers, begging him for more. he'd simply rub on your arm, mocking coos into your ear about how needy you are—time and time again, whether it be from his fingers or his tongue or his cock, he would dare to leave you thrashing on his bed, your release slipping away from you slowly, slowly. it would render you sensitive to his every touch. closer and closer, reaching the peak of your high quicker every time he edged you... until just a kiss, just a nip against your skin, and you'd be shaking—coming undone, spilling over his sheets. only then would he proceed to fuck you senseless. "wow, so desperate for me! what a cutie~ you want to cum, don't you?"

xavier? sweet, innocent xavier, like you've always known him to be... not. xavier, the little shit, he's deliberate. he'd have fingers trailing all over your skin, barely-there touches that have your hair raising in response. he'd place light, feathery kisses, from your jawline, to your neck, to your collarbone... and he'd have the audacity to breathe so close to your ear, claiming he just wants to cuddle—he doesn't, obviously he doesn't. but he pretends. he pretends like he doesn't know what he's doing to you. and he'd never touch you any more than that until he got his fill, until you would rub your thighs and his ears would perk at the subtle sounds of your wetness. xavier knows exactly how to get you riled up, weak in his arms, mumbling about the unfairness of it all, whining to him how you just want him to fuck you already and skip all these pointless theatrics... but he won't stop. not until he wants to. it doesn't matter how many times you beg. if he wants to see you get even more desperate for him, then he will. "but, angel, why? i'm barely doing anything to you... are you already so wet...?"

zayne always knows what you want. of course he does, he's easily memorized every one of your expressions, every one of your reactions; what gets you clenching tight around his cock and how exactly to make you throw your head back moaning. but he won't do it. he won't do it unless you tell him to, unless he hears the words directly fall from you lips, dictating to him in detail exactly what you want him to do to you. it was never easy for you to do in the first place, so embarrassed of the filthy words coming from your mouth—but he'd make it even harder. be it the friction of his cock gliding in and out of your pussy, or the way his lips would swirl around your nipples, or maybe even just the way he'd look at you—intense, observant, waiting. you could barely form a coherent thought, let alone try to speak in words he could actually understand. "what's wrong, sweetheart? you know you have to tell me. come on, it's not too hard, is it? open your mouth. speak."

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glitter-epoch · 2 months

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-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 <3

#l&ds #l&ds zayne #love and deepspace #l&ds smut #l&ds x reader #love and deep space x reader #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace smut #l&ds zayne x reader #zayne x mc #zayne x reader #zayne x you #zayne x y/n

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atsuwumus · 3 months

Text

✴ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌

๋࣭⭑ 𝐌𝐀𝐈 𝐌𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 : drops this on the dash and absolutely books it ₍₍ ᕕ(´◔⌓◔)ᕗ⁾⁾ will be making xavier & rafayel versions for this as well <333

"Are we both really here for a movie?"

"If you get handsy with me, I'll have to get a little rough with you."

"Don't test my patience. I will not hesitate to punish you however I see fit."

"Lay back and play with her for me, let me see her. That pretty little cunt, she missed me, didn't she?"

"Someone's a little eager. Slow down, baby. Slow down. I'm not going anywhere."

"Don't you dare look away. Look at me. There you go. So you can follow instructions."

"Be a good girl for me, won't you?"

"It's cute how desperate you are. Those little noises you make, is it to spur me on? You poor thing, too bad I'll be taking my time with you tonight."

"On the bed, legs spread. Now."

"Touch me there again and I'll tie your hands, do you understand me?"

"Give me those hips. Ride me, baby. There you go."

"Bad girls get punished. Say it with me. Bad... Girls... Uh huh."

"You're gonna fuck me. And I'm gonna fuck you like you're mine, understand?"

"You're far too loud for my liking. Open up that pretty mouth of yours, let's give you something to suck on."

"I quite like you like this. Spread out, trembling and whimpering for me, you're so sensitive, too. I wish I could keep you like this all the time."

"Oh? You want to take control? By all means, go ahead. But we both know you'll just end up begging before the night is through."

"Poor thing, need Daddy to fuck you properly, don't you?"

"Stay still. I want to keep this picture in my mind forever."

"Messy girl. Wouldn't want any of my cum escaping you, would we?"

#zayne imagines #zayne x you #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #zayne smut #zayne headcanons #zayne drabbles #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace x reader #lads headcanons #lads smut #lads x reader #lads drabbles #l&ds x reader #l&ds smut

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ken-jaku · 3 months

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pretty nose, pretty boy. zayne from love and deepspace

there's a huge chance my phone may have distorted the quality to make it look like he has a dorsal hump but idc! i like the idea of it sm that im gonna lie to myself!

content warnings. suggestive content (smut), pussydrunk!zayne, both fem!reader and zayne are virgins, fingering, oral via face riding, zayne has a dorsal hump, semi!public sex (at akso hospital for the plot😼). vague mentions of zayne's asphyxiation kink, brief mentions of pining, nervous/anxious reader. verbal consent (zayne strictly wants words, no hums or nods). zayne is naturally dominant in this... idk what came over me. overstimulation. cumming right after an orgasm cause "love knows no bounds" :D mention of jealousy towards rafayel. reader has doctor/patient kink? all this on the first day of dating is crazyyy shit writing, haven't published anything since 2016 and that was a 5 chapter, 300 words each, wattpad story on hanahaki💀 huge chance i might edit this again later

word count. 5.09k words

"zayne?" your words are almost like a whisper as you squirm on the couch, impatience and anxiety riddling you as you can't wait to get dinner and execute your plan of either a.) finally getting a longer kiss compared to the two-second one you had earlier or b.) getting said kiss and have him hang out for a few more minutes after he walks you to your apartment. your boyfriend of just a few hours, which still feels rather unreal, sat across the room from you, hard at work. his long, scarred fingers tap away at the keyboard before him. a soft, short hum leaves his lips in acknowledgement of you.

said hum goes, unintentionally, ignored as you couldn't stop staring at him. the way his long eyelashes gently graced his lids, his nose twitching ever so slightly to shift his glasses as he focused on the computer screen. his beauty- his very being was captivating.

you never noticed it before but his nose had a small, almost unnoticeable, dorsal hump. soon enough, your mind went where no one's should be, especially on the day you confess and start dating. you wanted to fuck his face, plain and simple. sure, it was a bit too soon to have those thoughts but, really. who cares? you cuffed a pretty man with a pretty nose- you just can't help yourself!

"are you alive over there?" your physician's monotone voice almost makes you jump, "you've been staring at me for quite a while," his voice now laced with faux concern, "i couldn't get your attention for almost a minute."

you clear your throat, smoothing out your dress as you stand up. your fingers picked at each other as you got closer to him. zayne's mind drifts briefly from the task at hand as he watches you through the corner of his eyes, taking in the long silk sundress you chose to wear. the dress hugged all the right places and was quite flattering on you. for it to be the first formal piece of attire he'd see on you- it was like a blessing.

"when are we gonna leave? our reservation's in thirty minutes." you sigh, leaning over his desk and taking a peek at his computer before ultimately resting your head on the wooden surface, staring at his hands as the unfamiliar terms and long words on the screen annoyed you to no end.

"soon, my love, and stop hurting yourself. we won't be late." he places his left hand in yours, eyes not leaving the screen before him as he holds his breath in your presence. that was the end of it. you knew him well enough to know that. your begging would only result in the same monotone voice, the only difference being the almost unnoticeable annoyance that laced his words. it made no sense to fight back. you struggle not to release another sigh, your eyes never leaving the handsome man in front of you.

well, at least he has his beauty going for him despite being strict.

your hand reaches up to his face, delicately tracing the lines of his nose, following the curve of his high nose bridge upwards with your finger. just as you barely tilt his glasses, he stops you— his large, cold hand gripping your wrist. the interaction sends shivers down your spine as his eyes stare into yours with an intensity that leaves you wanting.

zayne finally lets out a breath, "is there something on my face for you to be staring at it for so long? the more you distract me, the longer this will take." your nickname follows— the word leaving his mouth sweetly in comparison to the others.

a murmur leaves your pretty, glossy lips, having swiped your tongue over them one too many times in the past three minutes, "you just have a pretty nose..." you trail off.

your physician tilts his head, eyes never leaving your face as he reads your body language. you were nervous- that was obvious but you were also hiding something, "what do you like about it?"

your cheeks feel warm and you find yourself averting his gaze as your head leaves the desk, the area now occupied with your elbows, "you have a dorsal hump."

he hums, "that i do... is that all you like?" your breath hitches and you cross your legs.

planting your palms on the wooden surface, you quickly attempt to rise from the desk only to find yourself being pulled back into place. zayne had dragged you back to him with the same singular hand that gripped your wrist. he was enjoying this, you could tell. it was never in his nature to pry so deeply even when it pertained to him so to see him show his true colours the day you begin dating...

"zayne..."

"come here." he hoarsely whispers as he stands up, taking a step closer to you before pulling you towards him, closing the distance between you two. his hand finally lets go of your wrist, opting to place both of them at the sides of your body, resting them on the desk behind you. you feel yourself leaning further against the table as he gets closer, until eventually, you find yourself almost sitting on it. he had you trapped.

zayne sighs, his head now resting on your shoulder as you eye the way his hand moves. just barely brushing your hip, he slides his hand down from your lower arm into your palm. one thing about zayne: he frequently has dreams about you- perverted ones at that. he was never proud of them but, god, did he indulge in them whenever they came along. you'd walk around the hospital every week, clueless about how he wished to secretly take you, not in front of everyone, though- he wants it to be away from prying eyes, but never prying ears.

while roaming akso and attending to duties, he'd regularly spot you in the corner of his eye- he doesn't like to admit it but he does make an attempt to cross paths with you at least once before seeing you in his office when you come for appointments. in your little skirt, you'd bend down to receive the same drink from the same secluded vending machine- the plush of your thighs on display for him to see. the sight would always leave his throat dry as he either speaks to you, forcing himself to let go of all the lewd thoughts and have a proper conversation, or he turns around quickly, as if he'd committed a sin, only to come back to that very same area every two weeks to commit the same act.

sometimes, just as he's about to address you, he hears your friend calling out to you with a sulky demeanour. it was always that same friend named rafayel too, never anyone different. deep down, he wishes for that kid to stop clinging to you like a lost puppy, showing up at akso, begging for your attention as he claims he fell down the stairs or got a cramp in his finger. he also occupies a hospital bed from time to time by admitting himself when he really doesn't need to but that's the least of zayne's grievances with him. zayne's always dreamed of wanting everyone, especially rafayel, to know you're his. and now that you two are dating, he's one step closer to said desire.

you feel two pecks on your shoulder blade and one on your palm. he brings your hand up to cup his cheek, "tell me what else you like about my nose, (name)." his tone was more commanding than anything, seemingly laced with jealousy and annoyance- not towards you, of course- never towards you. he'd never spoken to you that way before but, god, do you like it.

you watch as his fingers graze yours softly, his eyes only ever leaving yours when he closes them, revelling in the warmth your hand brings his cold, freezing body.

"i... " you feel his knee grazing your thigh as you try to spit something out.

"you can say it. no matter how vile and vulgar your thoughts may be... i want you to say it," after reassuring you, he asks once more, "what else do you like about my nose, (name)?"

a soft gasp leaves your lips as you feel his knee push further up your dress, "say it," he whispers, his lips now grazing your ear as his hand reaches for the back of your neck.

"i love how easy it looks to ride, zayne, fuck-" your words get muffled as zayne kisses you intensely. the feeling has you dizzy as the farthest you've gotten were the pecks initiated by you earlier that day and the ones he initiated just a few minutes ago.

his other hand grips your waist tightly as he presses himself into you further, his hands now the only thing keeping you from falling back onto the table. with the way he handled you, it was like he couldn't get enough. your very scent allured him.

"is this okay?" his lips withdraw yours as he begins leaves pecks on your cheek and neck as he awaited your response.

a nod and hum left you as you stared at the windows, looking at the reflection and taking pleasure in the way he kissed your body. but he stops.

as you were about to turn to him and ask what was wrong, a strict stare was all it took. his brownish-green eyes pierced into yours in the reflection of the glass. his eyebrows raised as he waited for something from you. he wanted words. he needed to hear, through proper verbal communication, that you wanted this.

"yeah..." you sound almost breathless facing him, "yeah, i wanna do this."

a small smile reaches his lips before he kisses you again. more deeply, more lovingly. he was relishing in your very being. the girl who he'd pined for was finally his after fifteen long years.

the hand gripping your hip would soon spread around your waist as the other rested on the fabric covering your thigh—a fabric that he would push up in annoyance as he needed to feel you bare.

his thumb would involuntarily twitch, grazing and pushing at your cunt as he squeezed and rubbed the plush of your inner thigh, the cold pressure being felt through the sheer panties you wore had you shivering.

"zayne.." your impatience was getting the best of you and zayne could see it. he chuckles as he bunches your silky sundress up at your waist and hooks his long pointer and index fingers around the last piece of fabric that bars you from him- teasing him with the dampness that left it looking a deeper colour than usual.

before he can ask, you give him the confirmation he needs, raising your hips, "take it off... please?"

he obeys, a little too willingly as if his patience was also wearing thin, and a soft 'fuck' leaves his lips as he stares at your dripping cunt, the vulgar word shocks the both of you.

he can only chuckle as he eyes the dress straps that had fallen off your shoulder, "the things you do to me." ever so slowly, his cold hands push the straps further down, pulling your arms from out of it. your breasts were now on display for him as the dress slid down, grazing your sensitive nipples in the process and stopping at your diaphragm.

you look away, gnawing on your lip. it set a weird feeling in your stomach knowing he was fully dressed in his doctorly attire while you were bare, exposed for him to see- for him to examine. you feel his hand rest back on your cunt, the other hand grasping your chin to look at him. he wasn't overly rough but the hold was quite strong and decisive. every breath and movement from zayne exuded dominance.

"don't hide from me, pretty girl, you know better than that." the pet name has you shuddering, paired with the fact that he began to gently prod at your entrance with his index finger before allowing you to suck him in completely, his thumb softly touching your clit occasionally as he inspects you.

his lips find yours once more, his tongue prodding your mouth and you can't help but whine at the feeling as he slowly introduces another finger. with every touch from him, you feel your breath leaving and your hands gripping harshly at the edges of the tables, almost piercing your skin.

zayne eventually touches something. something that leaves you even wetter than before. his fingers prodded and rubbed at you- at that spongy spot in your cunt that's been begging to be touched by him for a while.

"oh, wait- fuck!" you break the kiss as an involuntary hiccup leaves you. zayne grunts in annoyance, pushing lips back onto yours in an instant- his fingers increasing in momentum as he targets that pleasurable spot.

you find yourself sliding off the edge of the table as your body trembles with every thrust. despite still gripping the table, you almost collapse onto your knees if not for the man in front of you catching you. all while holding you, zayne doesn't let up- the squelching sounds your wet entrance makes flood the room, fueling him to keep going. he was so hell-bent on making you cum one way or another.

"c'mon, be a good girl for me. do this one thing for me 'n i'll let you ride my face. c'mon pretty girl." you couldn't see his eyes anymore. his fringes covered them as he looked down at your cunt, taking in the lewd noises that followed with every thrust of his finger and the clear, wet mess that started to drip down your thighs.

you can't help but nod, "anyth-ing for you." the abuse on your cunt and the way his mouth kisses at your nipples and sternum were taking your breath away. he was touching at all the right spots at all the right times.

your head throws itself back as the increasing pressure builds up in your stomach and you can't help but hold his wrist in an attempt to try and push him off of you. zayne, still, is relentless in his actions but he does raise his head to read your expressions and listen to your mumbled, repetitive 'yes's affirming him of how badly you want it.

"gonna cum. gonna cum, please lemme cum." you repeat over and over again as your nails dig crescent moon shapes into your lover's lower arm.

zayne chuckles, his fingers continuing at the same pace, never ceasing, "you can come whenever you want to, lovely. your hand is what's pushing me away."

your eyes shut tightly as the orgasmic feeling washes over you, basking in the complete and utter loss of the control you have over your body. you feel your eyes roll into into the back of your head behind your lids and your mouth parts as broken, whiny moans leave your lips. your lover smiles as he feels your walls spasm, clamping around his fingers repeatedly, harmonious with the way your thighs shiver.

you come down from your high rather slowly and zayne lifts you up, helping you move closer to the couch while you try to get your eyes to focus and attempt to beat the fatigue washing over you.

"you said you wanted to ride me, hmm?" zayne hums, itching in anticipation unbeknownst to you. you nod a bit nervously as you try to catch your breath, watching as he sits down and brings you to him by your waist, bunching your dress at your hips in the process. your cunt was almost lined up with his mouth.

"zayne, wait. i think i'm still s-ensitive," you say between gasps as you feel his breath fanning out onto your clit.

a hum leaves his lips and he looks at his watch briefly, "i don't think we have that much time, my love. it'll feel good, i promise. but if you want, we can wait until later tonight?" he kisses your thigh. there was no way in hell you were going to 'wait until later tonight.' the ache in your cunt from the anticipation would be too much for you to handle.

"hmm, it's okay..." you shake your head as you whisper tiredly, the post-orgasm drowsiness hitting you hard. he smiles as he lays down, taking you by the hand and leading your body closer to his face. his hands reach up towards his glasses. daintily holding them by the frame, he slips them off his face to place them on the glass table to the side of you.

the sight makes you pout and zayne, being zayne, catches it.

"what? do you also like my glasses too?" he smirks, bringing your hips to lay on him. you nod as you hesitantly let yourself be guided onto his chest.

"and when you get too rough and you break them, what then?" he questions, sass lacing his tone while his eyes focus on your cunt, watching it drip all your cum all over his shirt. the fact that he said 'when' and not 'if' had your body twitching. still, annoyance riddles your body and you roll your eyes. he's always ten steps ahead of you.

“ugh.. you’re so…” you’re at a loss for words and zayne can’t help but smile at your reaction.

he grips your hips roughly pulling you up to his face, "hmm...that's enough banter for now. don't be shy. 'm gonna ease you into it. and yes...i'll be fine, i promise."

with the constant reassurance, you build up enough courage to sit on him and almost immediately does his tongue find your clit, occasionally tracing around your labia and prodding your entrance.

"ha— zayne. wait!" a high-pitched strangled moan leaves your lips and the man grunts under you as your body lifts itself off of him in shock. zayne feels his eyes almost roll into the back of his head as he briefly catches a glimpse of how your pretty, puffy cunt pulsates around absolutely nothing. as he comes to his senses, his arms quickly lock around your legs, bringing you back down and keeping you in your rightful place— on top of him.

your moans get louder and louder and soon enough zayne finds himself humming satisfyingly into you, sending vibrations all throughout. to hear your cries of pleasure just from this, alone? while you tasted so good? zayne was in his own icy wonderland.

"waited years for this pussy and it's finally mine." he mumbles deliriously, and you nod, "all your— hmpf, fuck, all yours." he was fucking insatiable, arms tightening around your thighs as he forced you to press further down onto him. tears start to well in your eyes.

at this rate, zayne's cock was harder than ever before and you, yourself, notice that as you lean back, palm accidentally pressing down onto his erection, touching on the bounds of both pain and pleasure for him. a soft moan leaves him as he takes his mouth off of you for a moment, thick cock throbbing with want.

"wait," he says between shallow gasps for air, "not yet. i just want to focus on you right now... can you let me do that?" you nod and he slaps your thigh, which quickly has your spurting out multiple 'yes's in an apologetic tone.

you feel your body lifting to which you whine, tears falling in thick globs as you unconsciously hump the air for some needed friction, your pussy once again clamping around nothing, as you assume some sort of punishment was about to begin.

zayne watches you amusingly. it was quite a pathetic sight- one he loved, don't get him wrong but the thoughts that flowed into his mind weren't nice— slapping your ass, pinching your thigh or edging you every time you forgot to properly address him, tears falling down your face as you apologize and pout, begging to be fucked. god, he could feel his cock twitch in his pants.

it was the first official day of dating, though, so he wanted to cut you some slack and slowly ease you into things.

he finally puts you back down- noticeably, a bit further up his face. his arms lock you back in place, preparing himself in case you decide to run away from him again.

if anything, he'll ease you into things by forcing you to fuck yourself one orgasm into the other on his face.

"ride my face. fuck yourself using my nose." those words have your cunt spasming as you don't hesitate to listen to him.

your body jerks slowly as you ground down on him, his tall nose repeatedly tapping and prodding at your clit. zayne doesn't hesitate to continue his past ministrations, his tongue flat against you, sliding across your folds with every thrust from you.

"z-zayne. fuck." you moan as you grip the couch's arm for dear life, your body unconsciously speeding up as you look at the boy beneath you sitting so still and pretty for you with his eye half-lidded as his mouth softly parted. and, of course, the stimulation from his nose was just not helping.

zayne was drenched, soaked with your juices and he wouldn't let up. air lessened with each breath for him but he didn't care. in fact, he pushed his head further up into you. he loved it. he loved drowning in you.

"would love to have you sit on my face more often," he murmurs to himself as he feels your fingers entangle themselves in his hair, thighs locking and trembling around his head from the vibrations. zayne pushes his head up into your cunt even further, the hump on his hose throwing you for a loop.

"zayne. zay—fuck, fuck. oh, god!" you just couldn't get his name out of your mouth. it's as if he was currently conditioning you to focus on him— to know only him in this moment. he smiles, "it's alright, you can cum, baby. no one's stopping you. get off on my nose and mouth, baby. that's it." the sounds his face created with your pussy were oh, so lewd. it filled the entire room as your physician acted like you were a cup of fresh water waiting for him after he stayed in the sahara for a little too long.

soft whimpers leave your lips as you feel yourself sobbing. the pressure building up was too intense.

"come on, give it to me." the man under you grunts as he feels his dick twitch incessantly. no matter how badly he wanted to, zayne just couldn't resist palming himself. his tongue continues to fuck you sloppily, relishing in the act as he lapped up the savoury, dripping cum from you and spit from him like a dog. all while he played with your nipples, either groping, slightly grazing, or circling them. you name it.

you feel your legs thrash as a loud moan rips from your throat before you even realize what's coming. your body can't stop shaking and all you see is white yet zayne doesn't stop eating you out, his lips now encircling your clit and as he grips your legs even stronger, forcing you to relish in the harsh suction and vibrations as he moans along with you from the sight of you before him.

you squirt all over him, short bursts leaving your cunt to shower the man under you. the shock and embarrassment don't even last long as a gasp in pleasure leaves you- zayne was still on you, eyes closed as he lapped up every last drop you had offered him. he realized you came, his dick leaking pre-cum and twitching from the fact, but never truly processed it, fucking you through your orgasm and into the next one while not taking into account your sensitivity. you had no time to catch your breath.

"h—hey. wait... zayne!" you squirm. he hums unconsciously as he digs himself further into your cunt, overstimulating you with the flicks of his tongue. it's as if he can't stop. it's as if can't hear you. or maybe he just doesn't want to hear you.

"no more! hmphf— shit!" you repeatedly tap his shoulder as you continue to shake, your hips unconsciously still grinding into his face while your upper body rocks with sensitivity, nipples harder than ever and goosebumps riddling your skin. your thighs were practically squeezing his head now.

"one more for me baby, one more. please. just one more for me." zayne murmurs as he gasps for air. he looks as if he's lost his mind. his hair is dishevelled, with some parts of his fringes sticking up while the rest just barely covers his eyes. he really looks like a pervert that came straight out of a hentai in the moment. it was quite a sight.

the longer you stare, the more he looks blurry- your vision was becoming obscured, your senses simultaneously heightening as a result while the pressure in your tummy begins to build once more.

"hng— zayne, 'm gonna cum!" you sob, voice booming throughout the entire office as you feel yourself twitch, overstimulation ravaging your body. zayne's nails dig further into your hips, breaking skin, and the sharp pain allows you to finally let go. your back arches as your orgasm engulfs you, cum squirting out of you in bursts smaller yet more powerful than earlier.

"oh fuck—" a low, cracked whine leaves your boyfriend, his neck arching as he struggles to contain himself from quivering. his body shudders as he gently kisses your cunt and thighs. a fucked out look paints his face as he tries to catch his breath, his hand softly rubbing your waist in an attempt to calm you— and himself— down as he feels unusually lightheaded.

silence follows for a bit as you come down from your high and push yourself off of your lover's face who seemed very quiet—and not the usual quiet. there was something different about the air. hesitantly, you sit on his chest.

"zayne," you whisper nervously, "are you okay?"

zayne clears his throat, blinking harshly at the ceiling with his chest still heaving as his ears and cheeks are dusted red- his pretty mouth red, swollen and glistening with you. he swallows, avoiding eye contact with you as he tries to collect himself. you've never seen him like this... so shy, so embarrassed.

the silence that follows as your question goes unanswered causes anxiety to riddle through you, "did i do something wron-" "no," he interrupts not wanting to upset you in any way, "just... a minor miscalculation."

feeling relaxed, you push yourself down further onto his waist in an attempt to lay on top of him, "a minor miscalculation? what-"

oh.

you're shocked... and flattered as you feel a deeply soaked wet spot on his pants.

"i was too distracted and forgot about resisting my orgasm," he murmurs, not making eye contact. you smile, "hmm, i can tell. but don't be embarrassed, zayne. i find it a little hot... well, very hot." you chuckle. the reassurance was nice but, truth be told, he wanted his first load with you to be inside your glistening cunt, with you begging and pleading with him to give it to you, just like in his dreams.

one side of his lip curls up slightly, "i still can't believe i orgasmed untouched. though, this is my first time so i suppose it's not unusual."

just as you're about to lay on his chest, your body jerks upwards, "wait, what? you're a virgin, too? how'd you even know to do all th-"

"human anatomy," he interrupts, "being a surgeon, your physician and your boyfriend- it's quite necessary. and though i don't watch, a common assumption would be pornography."

embarrassment riddles your face and you mentally berate yourself for asking a stupid question as he kisses you, "... and i may have read some forums." his tone was soft and wispy, almost slipping past your ears. curiosity runs through you as you look up past his head at the computer. oh, that search history needed to be investigated.

"don't even think about it. i have a computer for work and another for personal use." he rolls his eyes.

gently, he lifts you from his waist and places you onto the couch just as he rises from it. he begins unbuttoning the cuffs of his dress shirt, wiping your cum residue from off his face onto the sleeves, "relax a bit. you need to come down from your high. we shouldn't miss the reservation if we leave in a minute... or three."

"wait, what about your work?"

zayne stops untying his tie to look at you. his head tilts and his eyebrow raises in the most comical way possible as if to say 'you can't be serious right now.'

"okay, fair. and.. your clothes? do you have an extra pair?" the moment you close your mouth you see zayne open a large closet filled with various button-ups and dress pants for varying occasions. as you take a closer look, you notice that they're organized by gradient and paired. not a single piece of clothing was out of place.

it was your turn to give him 'the look' as you scanned the closet before pointing at a paired outfit, a black turtleneck with matching dress pants. looking in that direction, zayne nods, taking the clothes from out the storage unit and undressing himself.

you feel your cheeks warm as you catch a glimpse of his bare back. you have yet to see him undressed and, to be honest, you don't want it to be now considering the two of you had plans after dinner. the sooner you fix your clothes the faster that time will arrive so that's what you do.

looking away, you notice something is missing- your panties. you quietly search for your underwear and it's nowhere to be seen. you scan the concrete floor and the velvet couches before directing your attention to the akso employee, only to catch him pushing sheer material into his pocket in silence just as you were about to query the fabric's whereabouts.

the two of you make eye contact once more. his face holds no emotion but he does turn around rather quickly, blush blooming at his ears once again as he looks at his computer before closing it and gathering the rest of his belongings.

note(s)💀. no one can come for me about the dorsal hump cause i found someone that happens to think the same thoughts as me! also i just finished day 2 of the valentine event??? zayne may have a sensitive neck ??? or am i just delusional??? + fav zayne edit if u care😼 also if i forgot something in the warnings plz dont hesitate to tell me! + i would love constructive crisitism just be nice abeg.

#i need some rum after this #and a nap #love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #love and deepspace smut #l&ds #love & deepspace #lads #love & deepsace x reader #love and deepspace zayne #l&ds smut #l&ds x reader #l&ds zayne #lads zayne #zayne x mc #zayne smut

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archonsabyss · 3 months

Text

╰─..✶. [ Artist, and their Muse ]

❒ pairing: Rafayel x Fem!Reader

❒ genre: smut [nsfw 18+]! fluff! romance

❒ warnings: shy virgin reader! first time sex! softdom rafayel! fingering! vaginal sex! unprotected sex! nudity! teasing! orgasm denial! vague mention of blood!

❒ word count: 4.5k

─❒ authors note: when the words keep flowing you end with a 4k+ fic. anyways, enjoy soft dom rafayel. smut took 10yrs of my life to write. It was so hard and frustrating. Hurt my wrists trying to finish this with the way I'm keeping my phone hah. Enjoy 💜

Amidst the quiet solitude of his art studio, you found yourself unexpectedly forced backwards as Rafayel approached with an unreadable glint in his eyes. You couldn't help but feel flustered and surrender under the look he gave you as he gradually closed the distance, compelling you to place a hand on his chest in an attempt to maintain a level of distance that was not merely enough to calm the rapid beating of your heart.

"You're so close" Your gaze avoids meeting his, and the flames of desire surge as soon as he steps near. The moment felt strangely intimate with your fingers delicately pressing against the cotton material of his shirt and his round beady eyes seeking yours. Rafayel didn't beckon you solely to fetch his favourite dinner, especially when he had a personal chef at his disposal and a perfectly functioning phone to order it himself. The evidence of his little white lie became apparent as he nudged you backward while striding ahead.

"Close?" He queries, seemingly not understanding what you meant and his brows furrowed in contemplation, his gaze dancing over your countenance absorbing every nuance as if seeking inspiration to craft a portrait of your essence. There was a common misconception about Rafayel's passionate character– it wasn't easy to navigate, leading most people to misread his character or feel inundated by his eccentric personality. Meeting up with him as often as you did, led you to such a conclusion. Time with Rafayel was a constant experience in itself, particularly for someone like you who normally shied away and often felt nervous around such bright personalities. You were a stark contrast to his entire existence and at times you left torn between the desire to strangle him and the impulse to pinch his cheeks, yet despite the unfamiliarity of it; his spirited flirting and teasing with seemingly effortless wit, he remained easy-going which rendered any time spent together devoid of awkward tension, and as time passed you came to accept that it was the undeniable allure about him.

"Do you hate me?" His sudden question takes you by surprise, but the genuineness in it absolutely baffles you. There were only a few rare instances when Rafayel's witty persona faded away completely, unveiling a calmer and more serious demeanour beneath. His lips didn't form their usual smile rather they grew more serious, and his shoulders deflated rather than puffed up, contrasting with the usual clingy sassiness of his character. This was one of those nights where he laid himself utterly bare without restraints and it was evident in the way his eyes were solely fixated on you as he anticipated a response.

"Where did that come from?" You wrinkled your nose. "What makes you ask such a ridiculous question, Rafayel?"

"It's not ridiculous!" He exclaims, his boisterous personality momentarily slipping away before he clears his throat. "You hate me"

"Says who?!"

"Says your body language" He refutes, pouting.

"I don't hate you" You vigorously shake your head. What made him think you hated him?

"I'd beg to differ"

For a fleeting moment, your attention shifts from the minimal distance between you as you narrow your eyes scrutinizingly at him. While he always had a flair for the dramatic, this time it felt genuinely serious.

"What are you on about, Rafa"

Sensing the impending embarrassment of his rationale, his ears turn red and he wordlessly grabs your hand from his chest and brings it to his cheek, letting you feel the heat emanating from his skin.

"I don't understand what you mean"

"Rafayel" You swallow, growing flustered under such an intimate act. He attempts to dismiss the way you pronounce his name but he fails as it echoes in his ears with an undeniable submission.

He turns his head, and his lips meet the skin of your palm, planting a gentle kiss. You repeat his name a few times but he refuses to meet your eyes, focusing solely on the way your palm cradles his cheek.

It's when you try to pull away, does he finally meets your gaze with narrowed eyes, remarking, "See, you do hate me." as his grip on your hand remains unyielding.

"You do"

"But I don't" You insist, and Rafayel rolls his eyes in annoyance, "Tell me why you think I hate you?"

He huffs and confesses with a pointed tone, "Every time I try to touch you, you pull back. Clearly, my existence is truly despised if you retreat at every opportunity,"

His sarcastic remark catches you off guard with a problem you never expected. Your heart gets entangled, growing intensely flustered with such a confession.

What if Rafayel knew his advances were rebuffed solely because you were cautious not to misinterpret his intentions or inadvertently lead yourself on?

Lost in your thoughts, you feel your cheeks burning with heat. It takes Rafayel snapping his fingers in front of you to bring you back down to earth.

"What?" He scoffs as you stare at him. "Admitting you hate me? That's your loss, I couldn't care less. There are a thousand other fish in the sea! A million other girls out there in the world who would die to be kissed by me! Who cares if the one girl I want doesn't want me, right? My existence is just a nuisance to you."

Throughout his incessant rambling, the pout on his lips becomes increasingly noticeable and the words he utters do not match the emotions he's experiencing. In reality, his heart is gradually shattering into pieces at your silence, feeling as though he's facing rejection.

Never before in your life have you taken the initiative on your own accord but now it feels necessary. You extend your hand to cup the right side of his face and gently turn it towards you. Your thumb strokes his cheek in circular motions as you strive to maintain eye contact despite the shyness tempting you to look away.

"I don't hate you, Rafayel" You confess earnestly.

"Could have fooled me"

"I'm not lying, you jerk"

"Your wounds hurt me. Then tell me why you avoided me like the plague"

"Why didn't you accept my hand when I opened the car door for you?"

"Why didn't you allow me to rest my chin on your shoulder at the art gallery?"

"Why did you resist when I wanted to show you how to stroke the paintbrush to create a gradient?"

"Why did you avert your head when I attempted to give you a goodbye kiss on the cheek?"

'Why didn't you let me feed you? And recently, why did you try to pull your hand away from my face"

He was giving you a headache. Honest to God his rambling was excessive and you weren't sure if you even got all that but you nodded along.

"I'm not like you Rafayel. Those things... I didn't─"

"Didn't what?" He persists.

"If you rested your chin on my shoulder, the distance would become unbearable. If you taught me to paint, there'd be no reason to linger in your art studio, pretending I'm there to learn. And if you kissed my cheek, who's to say I wouldn't want more? And if you fed me... I might just have to adopt you and fit you in my little fish tank."

"I didn't want to misinterpret things. I'm not as straightforward and upfront with gestures like you are. If I took your hand, I feared I wouldn't want to let go!"

"The fish jokes are getting old. And besides, Cucumber is perfectly content in his tiny bowl, a little overfed but fine nonetheless; I can't believe you'd consider evicting him." He points out, and out of everything you said, that's the only thing he focuses on. You nudge his shoulder harshly in response.

"Maybe you have a point. Maybe I should just get a cat"

Rafayel freezes, head snapping at you. "You wouldn't dare"

You nod, challenging him, and your sudden boldness catches him off guard. "I certainly would."

"See, it's a blatant display of animosity. I'll reclaim ownership of Cucumber."

"You can't do that, Raf." You find yourself suppressing a smile.

"I will."

"No," You frowned, "I love that fish."

"More than me, it seems."

"Can't I love you and Cucumber both?"

"So you love me?" He blinks, his knack for selectively responding to specific remarks astounds you.

"Maybe I should just leave. Your sudden personality shifts are giving me a headache."

"No," He seizes your wrist and presses you against the desk behind you. A tin of paint topples off the edge and spews its contents. While you gaze at the mess Rafayel fixates on you.

"You love me"

You retreat into your shell. "No"

"You just said you love me! If you deny it, I'll think you actually hate me"

"I'm not sure if it's love just yet, but it's something," You admit hastily, not wanting to restart the conversation and contend with his overwhelming persistence.

"Guess I can work with that"

Rafayel is oddly compliant all of a sudden and it makes you suspicious. The entire situation is confusing and feels dubious. It's unclear what's happening between you two, and it almost feels normal like every other conversation you've had, if not for the underlying tension building between your chests and lower halves.

"Rafayel, what are you doing?" You frantically inquire, your heart betraying you as it beats rapidly with every centimetre he closes between you.

Rafayel inclines his face towards you and you turn your head to the side with closed eyes as he hovers beyond the boundaries of personal space. His nose delicately traced the contour of your jaw, forming a constellation from your chin to your earlobe, and you can feel every measured inhale and exhale he makes while your breath is momentarily suspended.

"Rafayel" You mutter his name in protest yet again, not refuting your enjoyment of his actions but sensing the irregular thumping of your heart you fear you might lose consciousness.

"What are you doing"

"Evading your personal space"

"Yeah l─" You inhale sharply, "I can tell, but why?"

Rafayel stops for a second. "Since you don't hate me for the moment, I plan to take advantage of being this close to you"

"H-How many times must I tell you, I didn't hate you"

"Yeah, yeah whatever. I'm not moving" He prattles, rolling his eyes and pressing his forehead against yours. "Do I make you flustered?"

The way you're holding your breath makes it evident, but he wants to hear it directly from your lips so your muster a weak, "Yes"

He nods and smiles with approval. "Now tell me, do you actually want me to move away?"

"No"

Your obedience kindles a thrilling excitement within him, like a flame fueled by your compliance. Each nod and acquiescence adds to the anticipation and it makes his heart beat in rhythm with your submission.

"Can I kiss you?"

A lingering hush punctuated by the rush of blood surging in your ears envelops the space after he requests consent, and you nod your head instinctively, agreeing before your thoughts or words can be articulated. The anticipation hangs thick in the air as you await the slow descent of his lips and your gaze flitted, searching for something in his eyes that bore unwaveringly into yours with a depth that is slowly becoming your undoing.

Pulled in by an imperceptible force, Rafayel bridges the gap and meets your lips in a fervent kiss with a passion you've never encountered before.

When his mouth slots against yours, an intricate play of uncertainty, desire, and experimentation ensues. Time seemed to stand still, suspended in the dance of your entwined souls.

Rafayel's hands tenderly cradle your cheeks, tilting your head back while pressing his body against yours as he angles his head to kiss you with a deeper sense of passion that renders you flustered and breathless when he eventually pulls away.

The birds' melodious chirps seem to celebrate this unexpected blossoming of romance as if their song is a serenade to the newfound connection that has finally come together.

You meet Rafayel's gaze with a timidity he yearns to unravel. He wants to pull you right back into another kiss and lavish you with myriad praises. He wants to take you by the hand and lead you to his room where he can tenderly place you on his bed and express the depth of his desire to love you.

His infatuation lies in the unspoken words that crash upon him like a sudden wave against the shoreline, threatening to erode the restraints he struggled to maintain. The weight of unsaid wishes presses on him and the carefully constructed barriers seem on the verge of slipping away in the face of overwhelming longing.

"Rafayel." Has any human voice ever sounded sweeter? It lures him into a sense of desperation, enchanting him to the point where he feels compelled to kiss you again.

In a matter of seconds, any other words you had to offer to fade into the collision of his lips against yours. Your mouth opens willingly, his warm hands cradling your face once more as the kiss intensifies with his sweet tongue swiftly intertwining with yours.

He has you exactly where he wants. The fact that you can’t help but lean into him is like a triumph for him. The way you willingly succumb to him is something he can't get enough of, and all he craves is to lead you to ecstasy. He wants more, and the moans escaping him make it abundantly clear.

"I want you, Rafayel... So bad" You confess, overcoming shyness.

Rafayel's eyes widen with curiosity, and his lower lip protrudes with a gentle breath as he lets out a whining sigh.

"Finally! And just so you know, there's no going back" He cautions, a warning lingering in his words as he shifts his hands to your hips, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

You're inclined to nod your head, grappling mentally with the weight of your confession. Yet, it doesn't change the undeniable truth that you want this, you want him, and that was all he needed to hear to lead you to the expansive couch positioned near the extensive glass window at the far end of the studio, the closest comfortable spot for what lay ahead.

"Well?" He mused and you reply, "What?"

You were inexperienced and jittery, nerves causing a slight tension in your posture, but Rafayel as always, was there to alleviate any tension just as he's done in the past.

He seats himself on the couch, spreads his legs and rolls his hips for comfort, the bulge in his pants evident and a testament to your plea. There are a few buttons of his shirt undone revealing a tantalizing glimpse of skin. He raises but a singular brow wondering why you're still standing idly when his legs have parted specifically for you.

"Come here"

Your feet carry you forward before your mind comprehends, and the next thing you know, Rafayel has you seated atop him. He flinches at the contact of you on his bulge but quickly wipes away any sign of discomfort when he notices your worried expression, thinking you might have hurt him.

"Wait" He suddenly blurts, "Stand up"

"One of these days I'm going to eat you out" He grins, and you struggle to resist the urge to moan.

You do with hesitancy and his fingers loop into your pants and tug you forward. "I'm going to take these off," He says, and you blush hard, feeling a surge of arousal course through your veins.

You observe as he unbuttons the top of your pants with intricate fingers, sliding them down your legs leaving you half-bare. His eyes glint mischievously as he peers up at you through his eyelashes, his face in line with your lower half as he remains seated on the couch.

Rafayel instructs you to turn around, guiding you to perch on his lap and you comply. He encourages you to relax and lean against his chest. His hands then place on your knees and part them enough for the cool air to breeze between your legs. Your panties cling uncomfortably and a wave of heat courses through your body.

"Breathe," He chuckles, sensing the tension in your body as he pulls down your panties, and you gasp as a rush of cold air greets you.

"I've never done this before, Rafayel"

His hands inch closer to your core, "Just breathe, baby" He whispers as his index finger delicately traces the contours of your pussy. "I'll go slow. It'll feel good, promise"

You inhale deeply, finding your inner courage and trusting him entirely. At first, Rafayel entered with just a single finger. You gasp, your body yielding to his touch. His finger explores delicately between your folds ensuring no harm as he starts tracing circles around your sensitive bud.

Your brows pinch in response to his movements, your back arching as your fists look for something to grab.

Rafayel grins, redirecting your hand to the nape of his neck while his fingers tease your clit, and as you grasp onto him for support he presses on your stomach to prevent your back from arching away.

There is no doubt in your fuzzy mind that Rafayel exhibits the same level of concentrated energy and finesse in propelling you to new heights as he does in his artworks. Every movement he makes is precise, mirroring the precision of his painting technique, akin to the deliberate strokes of a paintbrush caressing a canvas.

The interplay of his unpredictable movements and irrational spur of inspiration, coupled with the graceful gestures of his hand, harmonizes and forges an experience transcending the boundaries of conventional perception, leaving you with a sensation unlike any you've encountered before.

"Enjoying yourself?" He feels the need to comment when your nails dig into his neck but you're too fucked to comprehend anything he's saying which makes him chuckle into your ear and picked up his movements. You squirm in his grasp, tension building in your stomach, thighs aching, yet the impending pressure refuses to ease as he pulls back every time you think you might explode.

He will be your undoing, and all it takes is a single finger toying with your heat. You can't take the suspension any longer and shamelessly beg for more, his name leaving your lips desperately. He can't deny you like you've denied him and listens, inserting another finger but this time with less gentleness, employing his thumb to stroke small circles on your clit.

A breathy sigh escaped your lips as his fingertips tentatively yet deliberately traced your slick folds from bottom to top. He kissed your neck, feeling a surge of arousal run to his cock leaking precum beneath you.

He withdraws his fingers, admiring with pride the glistening evidence of your cum coating them while a moan is forcefully drawn from your throat at the sudden emptiness and build-up within your stomach just beginning for release. You exclaim his name as he cleans his fingers with a pop by sucking on them.

In a blurry flip of the moment, Rafayel swiftly scoops you into his arms and pivots you around, settling you onto your back as he gradually lowers himself on top of you. He kisses you hard and takes your legs, wrapping them around his waist as he settles between you. After months of resisting and denying your feelings, this is what it led to.

Rafayel hovers over you, staring down at your face and running his hands over your body. He groaned, the warmth seeping into his groin as he pulsed and ached with the need to be inside of your tight body. He positioned himself at your entrance and observed as your face twisted in pleasure. Then, he murmured soothingly as he drew closer and penetrated you, causing every muscle in your body to tense as you cried out and gripped onto his shoulders, the soles of your feet digging into his back.

"You drive me fucking insane"

He exhales sharply as your thighs tighten around him and your hands slip under his thin shirt. He's unable to bear the barriers between you any longer and kisses you one final time before breaking away to discard his pants and remove his shirt. He does the same with the remainder of your clothes, unbuttoning your shirt haphazardly and tossing it across the room where it sadly lands amidst a dissaray of paint he hasn't cleaned up.

"Rafayel! It hurts" You mutter with a headshake, stifling a sob and he nods, pausing his movements and stroking your cheek. He bends down, planting a tender kiss on your lips, muffling the gentle whimpers you emit. He remains in that position for a while before inquiring, "Does it still hurt?"With shameless selfishness, Rafayel exercised restraint throughout, feeling the tight grip of your pussy squeezing his throbbing cock and it drove him insane.

Fuck─ he wanted to ravish you.

“No─ N-Not really anymore.” You eventually responded with a gulp permitting him to continue. His earlier edging was a prelude to this, as your arousal coated your intimacy forming a natural lubricant. Rafayel proceeded to push deeper into you and your reaction remained most responsive.

Inch by inch, you took him in.

"That feels good" You moaned shamelessly and Rafayel attached his lips to your throat, bringing an otherworldly kind of ecstasy to you. Slowly, he sunk deeper into you. The initial discomfort of being stretched and filled gives way to overwhelming realms of pleasure coursing through your senses.

“It feels so good” You whine as he rolls his hips, biting his lip to contain a semblance of his sanity.

"I've had dreams of this" He admits, loving the way you're so willing to take him in even with the initial discomfort. "Dreams of you. My muse. You were right, after getting a taste I doubt I can ever be without you."

You nod your head weakly and Rafayel slides his hands into yours intertwining your fingers just as he bottoms out in you. "Shh," He quieted you with a gentle whisper, slowly commencing a gentle rhythmic thrust of his hips providing you with a moment to adjust. Yet, impatience took over and you rolled your hips, emitting a moan at the euphoric sensation that left your eyes rolling. Before long, Rafayel has undeniably picked him his pace and his actions are now characterized by a precise execution of snapping his hips against yours, his cock reaching the deepest recesses within you, and as he gains speed his thrusts delve even deeper, and your responses become increasingly animated. Your hands explored every inch of his shoulders, torso, through his hair and down his back. Your lips parted with each heaving breath he drew from your chest, while his lips fervently sucked on your neck.

The delightful singing of your moans, the way your face twisted in pain and pleasure, and when you constantly arched your back and found a rhythm in rolling your hips to meet his, Rafayel could hold himself back no longer and pumped his cock into your walls, infiltrating and memorizing every crevice. Upon seeing your breasts shake with the movement and your mouth agape, he pulled out and thrust right back in with a force that eroded any lingering shreds of dignity.

Still, you had the nerve to bite your lip and smile so seductively at him, saying, “It feels so good.”

Then and there, Rafayel knew that you weren't the demure innocent little fish ensnared in his trap from the start; you were the prey, teasing the hunter with the knowledge that escape was within your grasp, unmarred.

"Taking me all" He chuckles without mirth, a hint of the devil reflecting in the crimson hue within his amethyst eyes. "Such a good girl, aren't you little one"

The faint glint of his fangs becomes apparent when he smiles, tempting you to passionately kiss him at the mere sight.

God, you were so wet, so soaked for him.Rafayel cradled your face in the palm of his right hand, attuned to the clenching of your muscles around him and the loud explicit squelching of his cock driving into you. He sensed the imminent arrival of your climax.

"Cum for me" He demands softly and you can't refuse him, can't refuse the way he holds you as his cock pumps into you. And you cum hard and fast, your body convulsing in response.

Your head droops back listlessly as do your hands, and Rafayel's grin widens as if he's stumbled upon the perfect canvas for his artistry. Words seemingly elude your mind to articulate such an experience. It was transformative, stripping away every vestige of shyness and leaving only exhaustion in its wake. Your release trickles out, enveloping his shaft, propelling him towards his climax. Rafayel thrusts his member deeply into you, and with a groan intertwined with a whine, he climaxes inside you, filling you without mercy to the absolute brim.

"Fuck" He whines, his forehead pressing against yours as his body collapses onto you, ensconced within the comfort of your embrace. Together, you climax and ride out your high as your essence intertwines and spills out between you onto the luxurious upholstery of his couch, a touch of crimson blending with the mix.

Rafayel embraces you tightly, repositioning himself onto his back with you resting on his chest. He gently guides your head to rest above his heartbeat and keeps you securely in that position.“You okay?” He asked, placing a kiss on the side of your head.

"This wasn't how I expected my night to go" You confess sleepily, and Rafayel concurs, but neither of you is complaining.

"You need to pee" He suddenly says, though his motionless form indicates he's as reluctant to move as you are. "And we need to clean up"

"Just─ Just a minute longer, I love being like this" With your words, your head nestles into his chest, leaving Rafayel with no option but to comply. He holds you tightly, savouring the moment, believing it might be the beginning and the end of his resolve.

This night has sealed the deal for him completely. He is no longer an individual entity, and it's been that way for quite some time. Now, he unequivocally belongs to you.

☣ copyright @archonsabyss all rights reserved // do not copy; steal; plagiarize; reword or repost my works to any other platform! No translations!! All credits to original owners of characters/anime/pictures that are not my own!

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