#lads teasing

[lyn31]

Well that was close

Summary

A moment of heat, a sudden interruption, and a desperate scramble to keep a secret under wraps—just barely.

Ao3 link

My Masterlist ✨

Notes

Pairing: Zayne x MC/Reader College AU, mature, playful, banter, interruption/almost getting caught, short one shot.

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The door shuts behind you with a quiet click as you step into Zayne’s dorm, the weight of the afternoon settling in. It’s been a long day—lectures, note-taking, barely resisting the urge to sleep through the most boring professor in existence—but now, you’re here. And so is Zayne.

He tosses his bag onto his desk, already reaching for his books. Predictable.

You, however? You have other priorities.

Zayne barely has time to pull out a chair before your arms slide around his waist from behind, pressing your body flush against his. Warm. Even with the slight chill of his skin, you can still sense the subtle warmth beneath.

“You’re not really about to start studying, are you?” you murmur, lips brushing against the fabric of his shirt.

Zayne exhales, already weary, though you catch the subtle way his fingers tense around the book. “That was the plan.”

You hum, letting your hands wander a little—fingertips tracing the hem of his sweater, slipping just underneath. His stomach flinches at your touch, and you feel him take a sharp breath.

“We just got back from class,” he says, voice dipping lower.

“Mhm.” You press closer, lips grazing the edge of his jaw. “So?”

The book shuts in his hand.

Zayne turns, a flicker of something dangerous in his gaze—something that sends a sharp thrill down your spine.

“So,” he echoes, voice even, “you’re really insistent on making my life difficult.”

You grin. “Always.”

And that’s all it takes.

Zayne’s mouth finds yours in a claiming kiss, heat surging between you in an instant. He maneuvers you toward the bed with precise movements, barely breaking contact. Clothes come off in rushed, impatient motions—sweaters, jeans, until all that’s left is the press of bare skin and the way he fits perfectly against you.

His weight pins you to the mattress, grounding you as your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. His lips map a slow descent—over your throat, your collarbone—each touch leaving heat in its wake. His hand drifts lower, guiding your hips as he pushes forward, a sharp gasp spilling from your lips at the stretch, the slow, intoxicating slide of him sinking into you—

Knock. Knock.

"RA check!"

The sound slams into your skull like a gunshot.

For half a second, you’re frozen—so is Zayne. He’s still inside you, still hovering just above, his chest rising and falling against yours.

And then, at the exact same time, you both react.

Shit.

You shove at him, and Zayne, caught off guard, nearly topples over the edge of the bed. Sheer panic sets in. Clothes? Where? Everything is everywhere. The room is a crime scene. Zayne’s still half-naked, and you—oh god, butt naked—

"Give me a moment," Zayne calls out, voice so stiff that it almost sounds forced.

The RA doesn’t answer, but you can feel them standing there, waiting.

Zayne is halfway to his feet, hastily yanking on his pants, while you dive for your hoodie, slipping it on over your head with panicked urgency. The bed is a disaster, pillows askew, sheets very obviously disturbed.

"Where’s my—" You start to ask, but then you see it.

Your underwear.

On the floor. In plain sight.

You lunge for it, stuffing it under the pillow just as Zayne reaches the door. His shirt is only half buttoned, his hair an absolute wreck—but there’s no time.

You hear the door unlock, followed by the creak of it opening.

The RA stands there, arms crossed, scanning the room with a slow, calculating gaze.

It’s silent.

Then...

“…Huh.” The RA squints. “This place looks… occupied.”

Your pulse spikes. Judging by their expression, they probably thought someone was doing drugs—until their gaze landed on you both. Now, you're not sure which assumption is worse.

You and Zayne are sitting on opposite sides of the bed—way too stiff, way too guilty. His hands are on his lap, posture rigid. You’re tugging your hoodie down like it might somehow erase the evidence.

The RA’s gaze lingers on the extra pillow. The extra blanket. The general vibe of the room that very clearly does not belong to just one person.

"You two aren’t—" They pause. Reconsider. Their tone shifts, something dangerously knowing curling into it. "You don’t live here, do you?"

You force out a very casual, “Nope.”

Zayne, ever the composed one, simply says, “She just spends time here.”

The RA gives him a look.

The silence stretches.

Then, finally—

“…Right,” the RA says, dragging the word out just a little too long.

There’s no proof. They know what’s going on, but they can’t call it out outright. Instead, they exhale, rubbing the bridge of their nose.

“I better not find out you’re actually living here,” they mutter. “Because if I do—” Their eyes flick between the two of you. “I’ll have to report it, and you’ll be sent back to your own room. Understood?”

You nod so fast you probably give yourself whiplash. “Understood.”

The RA lingers for a second longer, but then, mercifully, finally steps back. “Keep it down,” they say. Then, with a skeptical glance at the still-messy bed, they shut the door behind them.

Silence.

Stillness.

You exhale hard, slumping against the bed. Zayne drags a hand down his face, tension leaking out of his shoulders.

“That,” he mutters, “was almost a disaster.”

You turn your head to look at him, still breathless. Your pulse is still racing—not just from the panic, but because you never actually finished. You were just getting to the good part, after all.

Your gaze drops to his lips.

Zayne notices.

His fingers twitch against the sheets. You see the moment it clicks for him—the way his eyes darken, the way his hand shifts just slightly toward you.

You lean in.

“So,” you murmur, voice lower now, teasing. “Where were we?”

Zayne exhales through his nose, tilting his head like he’s thinking. Then, very slowly, he shifts closer, his fingers sliding back to your thigh, his body pressing in just enough to make you shiver.

“I believe,” he says, voice steady but full of promise, “I was in the middle of something.”

And this time, no one interrupts.

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Notes

Before Zayne just played along with MC antics but I feel like now he could be starting it ahahahahaha

I was editing to add the rest of the series part but it was too long ahahaha so here's just the whole list: College AU list ✨

[lovesoome]

THE AUDACITY OMG I WANT HIM SO BAD

[hanashiz]

Ritual habit

[dissociativewriter]

a short Sylus x reader drabble because it’s springtime; not proofread

Sylus entered his bedroom to find you wrapped in his blanket, nose red, eyes puffy, and a mountain of tissues strewn carelessly around you. His brows drew together, immediately rushing to your side. “Sweetie, what’s wrong?” The bed sunk under his weight as he pulled you into his arms. His voice gained a sharp edge as he asked, “Did someone hurt you?”

You open your mouth to respond, but the tickle in your throat takes priority and you plunge into a violent coughing fit. Sylus absentmindedly rubbed your back as you tried to catch your breath, his concern only growing as your silence continued.

“It’s nothing,” you whispered hoarsely.

“Clearly it’s not nothing if it’s reduced you to this,” he muttered, smoothing out your haphazard hair.

“It’s really fine, I’m used to it.” You softly shook your head.

“Used to it?” The creases in his face deepened along with his frown. “What could possibly have happened to you to get you used to this?”

“It’s…” you coughed again, unable to catch your breath for a moment. You heard the slight whirring of wings as Mephisto perched onto the headboard behind you.

“Take your time, sweetie,” he murmured. “All I need is a name. Even a vague description will do.”

“It’s…” you took as deep a breath as you could, though it was still shallow. “Pollen.”

The hand on your back stilled. The furrow in Sylus’s brows lessened, but it didn’t disappear completely. He looked at you, seeing if you were serious, and was met with your watery eyes. He sighed, closing his eyes. “…pollen?”

“Yes, and it’s killing me! I can barely breathe, I keep sneezing, and—“ you were cut off by an aggressive sneeze. Sylus wordlessly handed you the tissue box, to which you nodded in thanks. “And I’m so itchy! I keep rubbing my eyes and it looks like I’ve been sobbing.” You dramatically fell back on the bed, tossing an arm over your eyes. “I hate spring and I hate pollen,” you grumbled.

Sylus chuckled then, waving a hand to dismiss Mephisto. He laid down next to you, taking your hand in his. “How about I get you some allergy medication?”

You sniffed. “Okay. And… maybe some cookies?” You moved your arm to look at him hopefully.

He chuckled again, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Whatever you want, sweetie. Just say the word.”

comments and reblogs appreciated! <3

masterlist

[merelylillies]

˗ˋˏ ─────── ‧˚⊹☽ ◯ ☾˙₊๋ ────── ˎˊ-

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶

Note: ‘‘Sorry if it’s bad,,

・・・・・​​⟢

Fandom: Love and Deepspace

Pairing: (Fem.)Reader x Sylus

Content Warnings: (NSFW) Thigh Riding

✦・・・・・​​・・・・・​​・・・・・​​・・・・・​​✦

The leader of Onychinus leaned back onto the bed's headboard, watching the bed dipping from the shuffling of your knees. As you hovered over his lap, movement shy but deliberate, you felt a large hand find its way onto your lower back. The warm palm making its way up your spine, churning a pleasurable heat in your stomach, until it wrapped around one of your shoulders.

Before you can even question the newfound grip, the hand pushes you down firmly, making you topple over to the side, a leg landing between his, another by the side of his hip.

Despite your surprise, all you could register was where you were sitting. His thigh, muscular even covered with his black dirtbike jeans, pressed directly between your now spread legs.

Fuck.

Looking up at him, his eyes were staring at you intently, a raised eyebrow as if his very own lips weren't quirked up into a smirk. As if he wasn't the one who had ruined your plans.

A couple nights back, during a drinking game with the Kieran and Luke, you had bet the twins you could top Sylus. Now was that your best moment? No. But you were drunk- and hey you could totally top him if you wanted.

Sylus being Sylus, cockily let you have a chance. But you'd prove him wrong.

Right?

"What's wrong?" Amusement clear in his voice.

"You said you'd let me take the lead tonight.” Your response as bitter as you can muster with the tension that seems to grow with every breath.

"And I am." He chuckles before bringing two fingers between your brows, massaging the frown away, then dropping to cup your cheek, thumb caressing your face in an almost mocking way.

"Go ahead."

Maybe you should've known better. Because just as you leaned forward, aiming to take charge, his thigh lifted. Instantly your lips closed and your core tightened, eyes fluttering up to his.

A pause.

"Sweetie? Did you not hear me?" He says softly, the tone betraying his expression, as his gaze takes you in.

"I said go ahead," Another move.

"Do as you want," Harsher against your core.

"You're the boss tonight." He says with delight.

And god why is it so hard to gather your thoughts. Curse him and his ridiculous thighs-

Another bit of friction and you feel yourself lowering you body weight on him.

"Oh?" The bastard has the audacity to act like he doesn't know what he's doing. His leg continuously rubs against you, the rhythm unsteady on purpose, keeping you on your toes.

"Are you alright Princess?" He teases. And you can feel the flexing muscle hit just right, making you clamp your legs around his singular one.

Shit, why does it feel so good?

"I'm fine." You mumble.

"Yeah?" His leg jerks up, and your breath hitches audibly. "Are you?" Another movement and you feel your sanity start snapping, your resolve crumbling and humiliation be dammed-

Double Fuck.

You tentatively move your hips. The friction of his pants material only further aiding your relief. Before long you're rutting against his leg shamelessly as he watches with an amused smile. Eyes half lidded as the flicker back and forth between where you sit on him and your face contorting every time he flexes just right.

And fucking hell you're close. And he's just enjoying himself doing nothing but grinning-

Sending the grind of your hips stutter more and more Sylus sighed out a breath that resembles a small laugh.

"But wait a second." Two large hands circle around your hips gently, before firmly pushing you down onto his leg. The pressure pushing a small yelp past your lips.

"Didn't you want to lead tonight Sweetheart?" As you try to regain rhythm your hips trembles and shake from his grip, not allowing your movement past staying put on his thigh, pressing you down onto the muscle.

And you were so fucking close- can he just-

"Just- Sylus-" You pant out, hands gripping at his slightly unbuttoned shirt, the dark fabric crumpled in your fingers. And suddenly a rush of humiliation runs down your body and goes straight to your core, realizing how disheveled you were while you were both still fully dressed. He was beyond unaffected though.

"Can I just what?" He hums calmly.

"Oh I'm sorry." He feigns pity with a shit eating smirk.

"Were you close?"

[aurorasdaybreak]

touch me, tease me, feel me up ! ⏔♡⏔ zayne li + sylus che (m)

summary: you wanted their voice and got a lot more than you bargained for - or, phone sex with zayne and sylus. at the same time. :) info: zayne x afab!reader x sylus | smut | 1.8k words warnings: smut smut smut, dom!sylus, dom!zayne, sylus is a pleasure dom and zayne's a brat tamer but we've known this, sub!afab!reader, phone sex, dirty talk, clit play, nipple play, g-spot stimulation, f!receiving!orgasm, uh oh cliffhanger :D author's note: the zayne fic is currently *checks notes* at 12k words and nowhere near done (:-;) for now pls take this LOL :') this comes after finding a tweet asking who's names sound...ahem better when being moaned out loud. i hope you enjoy :D disclaimer: not beta read, will edit soon for any mistakes!! if you are a minor and you're seeing this, i ask that you turn away and do not read. this is an 18+ story and minors are not welcome. if you are uncomfortable with any of the topics listed in the warning, please do not read this story! header found on pinterest, pls lemme know if you know the tags for credit! dividers by @uzmacchiato, ty for allowing usage!! they're so so pretty :')) ⏔♡⏔ songs include love talk by wayv and bed chem by sabrina carpenter

You shouldn’t be doing this right now, but holy fuck does it feel good. 

Your dominant hand is busy underneath the covers, fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit as you muffle your gasps with your other hand. Sweat makes your bare skin glisten in the dim light of your bedroom, and you moan softly when you reach down to rub your nipple in between your fingertips.

Usually, you’d have the attention of two lovers to make you go insane - but with one of them attending to business in the N109 Zone and the other hosting a cardiac lecture in Chansia City…well, it’s no wonder you’re doing what you’re doing right now.

Just the thought of them has you clenching, whining pathetically when you feel just how empty you are. You normally would be so good for the both of them, following their strict rule of not touching yourself while they were gone but you couldn’t not.

It’s not like they’d know, anyways.

The thought spurns you on and you finally allow yourself to slip a finger into your pussy, moaning when you feel the slight burn from the stretch. It’s nothing compared to them, but you would make do with just about anything at this point. You angle your wrist hoping to get the right angle, and you’re rewarded with electricity racing down your back when you feel the pad of your finger barely brush along your spongy g-spot.

“H-holy shit-” you gasp to yourself as you renew your efforts, hastily shoving another finger so that you can compensate for your smaller fingers. The miniscule stretch has you bucking your hips, imagining you riding a certain someone’s cock. It’s almost enough to get you to the edge you crave, you’re almost there-

-until the ringing of your phone stops you, eyes flying open.

You pull your fingers from your cunt, shaking slightly when you feel a gush of wetness leave your hole as you clench from the sudden emptiness but you don’t think, you simply swipe on the caller notification and answer.

“Hello?”

“Princess,” comes his easy voice - a voice that reinforces your want for him and has you squirming on your sheets.

“Zayne!” you reply, noting with slight panic at how breathy you sound. You clear your throat before speaking once again. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” you can hear the slight softness coloring in his voice, and you smile to yourself at that. “I just wanted to give you a call-”

“Don’t forget about me, darling.”

You gasp when you hear Sylus’s dulcet tone by Zayne’s voice. Knowing that your two men were there together has your stomach doing a little flip of excitement, and against your better judgement your fingers begin to creep down to your weeping pussy once again.

“Sylus!” You say, and you bite your lip harshly when you feel the tip of your finger graze along your clit. “What are you two doing together?”

“My business at the N109 Zone wrapped up so I stopped by Dawnlight City to pick something up.” comes his smooth response, and you allow yourself to settle back into your blankets and rub your clit as you hear him drone on about business.

“T-that’s good-” your voice cuts off as your mouth falls open in a silent moan, but you quickly disguise it as a cough so that they don’t catch on.

But you should know that they’ll always know your every little move.

“____?”

Zayne’s voice holds a sharp edge and it has you whining under your breath. Alarm bells ring in your mind at his tone and the fact he used your name - not his sweet pet name of princess. All of these things signal trouble for you in the end but you can’t find it in yourself to care at all.

Sylus laughs at your whimpering, and you can practically see the way he elbows Zayne at his side. “Pretty little darling’s busy touching herself.”

“I can hear that.” Zayne’s laugh is humorless and you clench in response, moaning when you run the tip of your finger around your weeping hole. “You must feel so good, right princess?”

In the back of your lust-addled mind is a voice, screaming at you to be afraid and to stop. They’re never this nice to you when it comes to touching yourself, insistent on being the ones to give you pleasure. And the fact that you’ve broken their single rule?

You should be very, very afraid.

But your need wins out, and you let yourself slip two digits back into your sopping cunt.

“F-fuck-!” Your fingers begin to speed up and you hastily place your phone on your stomach so that you can reach up and pinch at your nipple. The added stimulation has your back arching, head beginning to toss back and forth on your pillow at the sheer pleasure you’re wreaking on your own body.

“Fuck…” Sylus’s voice is a rumble, and Zayne’s accompanying groan has you growing dizzy.

“Don’t stop, sweet girl.” Zayne’s directing you with a strained rumble, sliding into his usual spot in the bedroom. “Tell us what you’re doing right now to your beautiful body.”

“I’m-hah- I’m touching myself-” you begin with a gasp, but Sylus is quick to cut you off.

“We know, darling. We want details.”

His voice is lethal and it has you whimpering as you begin to speed up your movements. Your brain turns off and it’s only your mouth whispering every dirty thing you’re doing yourself to your lovers who are too far away to do anything.

“I’m trying to fill myself with my fingers while pinching my nipples.” Your voice holds its unmistakable pout, and Zayne chuckles at your neediness.

“How many fingers?”

“T-two-!” You cry out when your fingers barely graze your sweet spot, and you feel your walls pulse dangerously. You’re so close yet so far - never able to get off with your fingers.

No, you need them.

“Two?” Sylus’s hum is amused, and you know they’re about to put you through the ringer with that. “We’ve trained you to take more, haven't we? Another one in, darling.”

“Yes Sy-”

“Yes sir, princess, or we stop.” Zayne’s quick to remind you of his presence with a harsh cut in the conversation, and you can practically feel the slap on your cunt that accompanies his reminders to follow their rules.

“Yes, sir- yes!” You gasp as you stretch your third finger in, feeling even fuller than with the two fingers you were using. Your hips begin to cant up and down, your body trying to speed up your movements so that you can meet your end.

“That cunt’s probably soaked,” Sylus muses, amusement ever present in his voice. “Our pretty little lady’s always desperate for us, huh?”

“You know she always is,” Zayne laughs in response, and a sick thrill shoots up your spine at how they refer to you as nothing more than something that pleases them. You’ll always be willing to be their pretty little plaything if it means you end up in situations and nights like this.

“I want-” you begin, but you gasp when your fingers brush against the spongy mess of your g-spot. You moan as you renew your efforts, rewarding yourself with your fingers pressing against the sensitive skin as you rub your clit like no tomorrow.

“Want what, pretty?” Sylus asks, velvet enveloping his voice. “You have to use your words like the big, fearless Hunter you are.”

“Your- oh,” your mouth falls open at your movements, and you cry out softly as you begin to near your end.

“Tell us or I’m telling you to stop, ____.” Zayne’s voice is harsh, and you’re quick to spill out your most wanton desires to them so that you don’t have to stop.

“Your cocks!” You cry out, whining as you continue to abuse your g-spot. “W-want your cocks s-stretching me out- holy fuck-”

“Good girl,” Sylus whispers, and you can practically see the pinched line of his brow as he fights to make sure the pleasure doesn’t cloud his judgement and commanding presence. “Why don’t you bring your phone to that needy little cunt and have us hear how much you want our dicks?”

“Yes yes yes yes,” you chant, and without a second thought you pick up your phone and bring it to your weeping cunt. You purposefully slow your movements so that they can hear the slick, sinful sounds your pussy makes as you push your fingers in and out, a loud cry escaping your lips when you crook your fingers so that the tips of your nails continuously stimulate your g-spot.

“Oh fuck, princess,” you hear Zayne groan. “You sound so pretty.”

“All for you,” you gasp, fingers beginning to speed up again. You just want to cum so fucking bad. “I- fucking shit-it’s all for you-”

“It better be,” Sylus murmurs softly. The tone in his voice has alarms ringing in the back of your brain - just what does he have up his sleeve? “Fuck yourself harder, pretty. We want you to feel good.”

“Yes- Zayne!” You cry out, your moans filling the air as you feel yourself nearing the end. You drop your phone to the side and return your hand to your clit, pinching and rubbing and doing everything you can to bring yourself to your end.

“Don’t forget about me, angel,” Sylus laughs, darkness coating his honey sweet words. “You wouldn’t want me to punish you, right?”

“Fuck- ngh- Sylus!” You’re nearly crying at this point, letting your imagination run wild and replacing your measly fingers with their thick cocks and callused fingers. You plant your feet on your bed and buck your hips, your walls swallowing your fingers deeper as you begin to near your end.

“Yes, ____,” comes Zayne’s sinfully sweet voice, and if you imagine hard enough it almost sounds and feels like they’re in the room with you. “Cum for us, will you?”

Their permission is all you need, and you wail out a strangled cry as your walls pulse rhythmically around your fingers. Your fingers curl at the right moment and you squeal when you feel liquid burst from your hole, your hand strumming on your clit and prolonging the intense orgasm washing over your entire body and being.

“Fuck…you look so angelic,” Sylus groans, and you barely register his words as you let yourself slowly float down from your incredible high.

Without opening your eyes you reach for your phone and giggle, a satiated smile spreading across your face. “Thank you, you two,” you hum tiredly. “I’m sleepy now.”

“You might wanna hold off on sleep, ____.” Comes Zayne’s voice, and a sense of unease mixes with the heady pleasure still coursing through your veins. “Why don’t you sit up and open your eyes for us?”

You’re slow to do it, but you push yourself up with shaky hands and slowly open your eyes - but the sight that greets you has anticipation and dread for what’s to come shooting up your spine.

“Hi, princess.” Zayne says on the phone as he grins, Sylus leaning on the doorframe with casual ease at the sight of you still shaking from your orgasm and the realization that they’re actually here.

Oh…you’re absolutely fucked now.

a/n #2: pls leave a thought in my ask box if you're willing :')) i hope you enjoyed!! <3

[snowballseal]

"Science Experiment"

LaDS Zayne X Reader

Word County: 1543

Summary: You pull a little joke on Zayne, and he is more than happy to play along. Though, you don't get away without a bit of teasing as pay back. (based on an instagram reel i saw and i just couldn't shake it)

Note: Just fluff really. A lot of cheese and a lot of teasing. I needed a break from my series so I wrote this and I love it. Unedited.

---

“Do you need anything before I leave?”

Breakfast is all but forgotten when you look up and catch sight of your boyfriend in his work clothes. Zayne, as always, is dressed dashingly. A classic, fitted dress shirt, cuffed precisely at his wrists. A dark gray suit vest that accentuates the pretty curve of his waist (really, it should be illegal how nice his waist is). And a pale blue tie, a nod to his wintery evol.

The memory of a video you watched last night pops into your mind suddenly, and the temptation is far too good to resist.

“Have I ever told you that you look amazing in your work clothes?” You hum, pushing yourself up from the table with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm.

Zayne’s eyes narrow. Having known you since childhood, the doctor prides himself in knowing how to read you. Every subtle movement and flicker of emotion across your face never goes unnoticed. Like the mischievous glint behind your eyes as you stroll slowly across the room towards him, like a cat trying to appear innocent.

Amusement kindles deep in his chest, though Zayne keeps his expression neutral for your game, “I believe you have. Quite…emphatically at times.”

You bite your lip, a light blush coats your cheeks as you reach him and stretch to curl your arms around his neck, “Oh shush, leave me alone. Someone has to appreciate it, since you cover it all up with a lab coat at work.”

“Hm, so what does this have to do with me leaving for work?” He hums, brow lifting ever so slightly, warm hands settling along your waist.

“It doesn’t,” you chime with a shrug, “I just wanted to say it. Buuut, you are wearing the perfect thing for a little…science trick I saw online yesterday.”

The slight pause in your words has the doctor’s mouth setting into a thin line. He doesn’t trust you for even a moment. But you slap on your biggest smile, pressing all the way up onto the tips of your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lip, which makes him soften slightly.

“Pleeease? It’ll be quick, I promise, I’m just super curious about if it’s true.”

His eyes narrow further, “And what is this ‘science trick’ you want to attempt?”

“Can’t I just show you?” You lean in even closer, your chin touching his chest as you bat your lashes up at him sweetly. “Come on, you wouldn’t want to stand in the way of scientific discovery, would you?”

Zayne huffs out a breath, something close to a laugh. It’s such an obvious trap, otherwise you wouldn’t be so intentionally vague. But the way you look up at him, eyes glimmering with such child-like excitement, he can’t help but play along, if only to entertain you.

“Alright, you may proceed.”

Yes! Nearly bouncing with giddiness, you draw back a little, enough to slip Zayne’s tie out from behind his suit vest. He watches, eyes sharp and curious, as you begin to curl up one side, rolling it all the way to his chin.

“Hold that,” you instruct, tapping his chin softly.

“Can I not use my hands?” He inquires, though he doesn’t hesitate in allowing you to tuck the rolled up tie under his chin.

“Nope,” you chirp, “That goes against the rules of the experiment.”

“Of course,” he hums, lips twitching with something fond.

You go to work doing the exact same thing to the other end of his tie. Your fingers graze his chest every so often, giving you the briefest hint of how your proximity is affecting him - his heart is racing under your touch. It makes your own heart stutter, especially when you glance back up and find his eyes set so intently on you. With a now shy smile, you present him with the other rolled up end of the tie.

“This one too,” you tell him, voice pitching up a little.

“I find your methods to be quite curious,” Zayne murmurs. The strain in his neck is mildly uncomfortable, but it’s easier to pay attention to you than the discomfort.

“All in due time.” You touch his cheek, smile growing by the second. “Now, every scientific experiment requires a question, right? So here it is - which end of the tie will fall faster? The big side or the small side?”

“Well, the laws of thermodynamics dictate that they will fall at the same rate due to-”

“Nope!” You interrupt, covering his mouth. “Big side or small side, Zayne?”

You can feel his lips pull into a smile against your palms, his voice muffled, “If those are my only options, then I will theorize the larger side will fall faster.”

“Good-” You draw back, steepling your fingers together. “-then on the count of three, let them drop, and we’ll find out. Ready?”

Zayne nods as best he can.

“Three. Twoooo. One!”

The doctor props his chin back up, allowing both sides of the tie to drop.

They hit their ends at about the same time, just as he said.

There’s a quiet lull between you. An expectant one. Slowly, you drag your gaze back up to his, struggling with all your willpower to keep from laughing. Zayne lifts a dark brow, waiting.

“I guess you could say,” you start, cheeks nearly hurting with how wide you’re smiling, “it was a tie.”

And, oh, the absolutely unimpressed look he gives you sends you careening over the edge. Your entire body trembles as you fall into a fit of giggles, loud and uncontrollable. You laugh until your chest aches, tears clinging to your lashes as you bend over at the waist, gripping his arm for stability.

And, god, does it make Zayne soft. Even though he will most definitely be late to work now, he can’t bring himself to step away, to deprive himself of your joy. Fondness spreads through his chest like the feeling of warmth you get from drinking hot cocoa on a cold day. It’s enough to break his serious mask, an amused smile slipping across his lips as your laughter pitters out into quiet, muffled giggles.

You try to stand up straight again, taking a deep breath as though to recover, “Sorry, sorry, that was just soooo good. God, your face was perfect!”

“I didn’t realize you haven’t aged in all this time,” Zayne murmurs teasingly, hand settling on the small of your back to support you, “To think you would still pull such childish pranks.”

“Oh, come on, it was funny!” You grin up at him and lean into his touch. “Plus, I’ve played far more childish pranks on you.”

“I don’t see how that helps your case.” Hand sliding up to your waist, the doctor draws you closer, leaning down until his nose is nearly touching yours. You blink, cheeks going warm again under the soft glow of adoration in his gaze. “Though I am more than willing to be your victim, as long as I am properly compensated.”

“My, Doctor Zayne, how forward,” you all but whisper, still unable to wipe the smile from your lips. “And what do you think fair compensation would be?”

Instead of answering right away, Zayne’s eyes dart down to your lips. Your breath falters, your mind suddenly all too focused on the sensation of his breath against your skin and the warmth of his body against yours. He leans in closer, so close-

“A box of macarons from the new bakery should do.”

Zayne presses a chaste kiss to your cheek before drawing back with the smuggest look you’ve ever seen on a man. You gape, all but frozen as he goes about fixing his tie back in place, sporting that stupid smirk he gets whenever he knows he’s won. Teasing bastard.

Pouting, you cross your arms over your chest and turn away, “I didn’t know you could be so cruel, Doctor Zayne.”

“It seemed only fair after your teasing, my dear,” he chuckles, slipping his arm around your waist to draw you back against his chest now that he's back in order. His lips press against your temple, lingering and soft. “I’ll share them with you if you wish. We’ll call it a compromise.”

“Will I get a real kiss then?” You grumble and glance at him over your shoulder.

Zayne’s eyes glint with something uncharacteristically mischievous as he leans in, his lips briefly touching yours, “Hmm, perhaps we can run another experiment. I do wonder how the taste may differ coming from your lips instead of the sweets themselves.”

If you weren’t flustered before, then you sure are now. It’s as though your heart is trying to break out from your ribs with how fast it’s beating, your whole face burning what you’re sure is a vibrant red. And Zayne looks even more satisfied with himself, his own ears tinged a soft pink.

Turning, you give him a shove, nose scrunching, “Get going! You’re going to be late for work at this rate.”

Zayne’s laughter echoes softly through the apartment.

Safe to say, you do pick up a box of macarons on the way home from work later that day, and you and Zayne spend more than enough time testing his…theory.

---

Kinda dying. Kinda love this. When I tell you I want to write a brat tamer fic for this man, this is the energy I want to bring. Just soft, teasing redirection and so much love. Zayne my beloved, he deserves more attention 😭 and more fluff!!! There's not enough fluff in this fandom.

[quirkedupkicks]

save me tododeku 3rd yr AUs..... save me.... (this whole thing came from a single panel gag, bet you can guess which one)

[fisheito]

cool hat

[sugarphoric]

MMFMFM thinking abt zayne who always keeps himself tidy and work-professional, never letting himself be seen as casual or show skin (he is a strong believer in "leave some things to the imagination").

when he meets you - how observant he is to notice your stares - he starts to love teasing a bit of his private self, including his body. rolling up his sleeves, messing his hair, tugging his tie soo slowly exposing just a little more of his strong neck, bobbing his adams apple as he drinks some water.

he's a prompt man, but when you stay over at his house, he'll purposefully run late traveling to akso hospital (it's still early), putting himself together before coming over to meet you to say a goodbye. his necktie is thrown around his neck, one button of his shirt not done. hes obsessed with the feeling of your hands radiating warmth as you take him by the collar, giggling softly as you fix his shirt and tie his tie for him (even if its crooked or tied terribly wrong, he wears it proud, unwilling to bother your mark on him). the intimacy of the few seconds, breathing each others air, soft wafts of each others' shampoo as you both are (willingly) forced in each others presence.

when he finally leaves, he'll softly hold your face, his thumb ghosting over your lips, as he announces his departure while wishing you a good day.

he's the type that aches for a slow burn, getting off to every small little thing that could catch you off guard rather than exposing everything from the start. after all, good things are meant to be enjoyed slowly :)

[chiropteracupola]

Things will be different in the new year...

[lyn31]

Customize AI

Summary

Zayne’s AI assistant was supposed to be a neutral, professional system—until you got your hands on it.

Notes

My Masterlist ✨

Pairing: Zayne x MC/Reader Fluff, short, silly, banter, messing around with his tech.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You don’t usually get access to Zayne’s personal systems—he’s careful, precise, and, frankly, a little scary when it comes to his tech. But today, for reasons beyond your comprehension, he left his AI assistant unlocked.

A normal person would respect his privacy.

You, however, are not a normal person.

So you tweak a few settings—nothing destructive, just a little... enhancement—and then you sit back and wait.

A while later, Zayne is at his desk, working as usual. You pretend to be absorbed in your own task, sneaking glances at him.

"Run system diagnostics," he commands.

The AI beeps to life. "Sure thing, bestie! Running diagnostics just for you~"

You slap a hand over your mouth.

Zayne blinks. There’s a noticeable pause before he speaks again. "...What?"

The AI continues in a disturbingly cheerful tone. "Oh my~! Looks like everything is functioning at 100%, just like your perfect bone structure, Doctor Handsome!"

You wheeze.

Zayne slowly turns his chair to face you. His expression is unreadable, but there’s something vaguely exhausted in his eyes. "...What did you do?"

You barely manage to choke out words through your laughter. "I—just—personalized it a little!"

He exhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Revert it."

"Why? It’s so flattering!"

He ignores you and tries again. "Open encrypted files."

"Of course, Zayne! You're so kind and cool, I would do anything for you~"

You actually fall over this time.

Zayne just stares at his screen, visibly regretting every decision that led him to this moment.

You sit back, arms crossed, grinning like a troublemaker who absolutely knows they’ve won.

"Reverting system modifications," he states, voice as calm and composed as ever.

His AI assistant beeps. "Oh… Are you sure, Zayne? I mean, your girlfriend worked really hard on this…"

His fingers hover over the console. Just for a second. Barely noticeable—unless you’re you.

Zayne exhales. "Yes."

"Oh. Okay. It’s just… You seemed kinda happy when I called you Doctor Handsome. But if you really want me to stop…"

You snort.

Zayne blinks at the screen, visibly unimpressed. "...Revert."

"Alright. I guess I’ll just go back to being a boring AI with zero personality. That’s fine. Really. I don’t have feelings. I just simulate them. But, y’know, if I did have feelings, they’d be a little hurt right now…"

At this point, you’re actually clutching your stomach, trying not to fall out of your chair again. "Oh my god, I love past me for this."

Zayne rubs his temples, clearly wondering where his life went wrong. "Override all modifications."

"Sigh… Okay, Doctor Cold-Hearted. Deleting your incredibly devoted, stunningly beautiful girlfriend’s heartfelt improvements. But hey, who needs love when you have a ‘perfectly optimized system,’ right? No worries. I’ll just delete myself… forever."

Zayne closes his eyes briefly, exhaling through his nose. You can tell he’s this close to forcibly shutting off the entire AI.

"Would you prefer I left it?" he asks dryly, clearly expecting you to say no.

You grin. "Oh, I know you’re tempted to keep it."

Zayne gives you yet another unimpressed look. Then, instead of responding, he simply turns back to his screen and… closes the settings menu.

Your eyes widen. "Wait. Wait. Did you just—?"

He doesn’t say a word. He just resumes his work like nothing happened. But the fact that he didn’t erase it? Oh, you’re never letting him live this down.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes

I actually roll over while writing this ahahahahahaha

I was editing to add the rest of the series part but it was too long ahahaha so here's just the whole list: My Masterlist ✨

[doctrined]

FIGHTER PILOT

synopsis; you had dreamed of this moment for years—joining the fleet force, flying among the best, and proving yourself in a world where only the strongest survived. being stationed under caleb, the renowned ace pilot, was an honor. he was sharp, disciplined, and impossibly skilled, a legend in his own right. everything about him demanded respect. but the moment lessons began, reality shifted. the excruciating world of fleet training was nothing compared to what lurked beneath the surface. caleb wasn’t just a pilot. he was something else entirely—something darker, something that watched you too closely, spoke too softly, and tested your limits in ways you never expected. you knew caleb as the perfect soldier, the controlled instructor. but perfection is a mask, and you were about to see what lay beneath.

in the cockpit, there’s no escape. and in his hands, neither is there mercy.

cw: this fic contains power imbalance (superior officer/instructor dynamic) and suspenseful psychological tension. expect aviation smut (cockpit intimacy, in-flight tension) with elements of authority kink, restraint/control themes, and explicit smut with detailed sensory descriptions. mind games and manipulation/gaslighting may be present as caleb pushes yn’s limits, blurring the line between training and something far more dangerous. additional warnings include breathplay/choking, danger kink (intimacy while flying), and obsession/possession themes as caleb’s control begins to take a darker turn. this is a corruption arc, where yn soon realizes that the perfect soldier isn’t just a legend—he’s something else entirely.

wc: 1.6k

chapter two:

p.s a light read for everyone. enjoy!

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ┈┈┈┈

⠀⠀⠀ Chapter One

Clear skies don’t mean safe landings.

You had dreamed of this moment for as long as you could remember—since the first time you looked up at the sky and saw those sleek fighter jets carving through the clouds, leaving a trail of awe in their wake. Joining the Fleet Force, becoming one of them. But now, sitting in the cockpit of a real fighter, your dream felt strangely suffocating.

Beside you was him.

Caleb. The man you had admired from a distance for years, the one who could twist a jet through the sky like it was an extension of his own body. The prodigy of the Fleet, with stories about him circulating throughout the academy—stories about his unrivaled skill, his unwavering discipline, and his control over everything in his path. Everyone revered him. Everyone feared him.

And now, you were in his cockpit, placed directly under his command. This was supposed to be a dream come true. But nothing prepared you for this moment. Nothing prepared you for the way he made you feel in the enclosed space of the cockpit.

“Hands on the yoke,” he commanded, his voice low, but not unkind. His tone was smooth, like velvet, but underneath it lay a steely edge. The way he spoke was controlled, calculated. There was no room for error in his world, not with him.

You placed your hands on the yoke, your fingers trembling slightly. Was it the height? The speed? The reality of flying? No. It was him. His presence. His quiet confidence that seemed to fill the space between you, suffocating the air until it felt thick with something else—something dangerous.

His hand moved over yours, almost casually, but you felt the heat of it instantly. A brush of his fingers over your knuckles, like he was testing you. The touch was nothing like you’d imagined—a professional, light gesture that shouldn’t have meant anything, yet it sent a sharp thrill down your spine.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, yet it rang in your ears like a command. “You’re flying like you’re afraid of it.”

He was right. You were afraid, but not of the plane. You were afraid of him.

His eyes stayed on you, unreadable but intense, watching every move you made as if he could read your thoughts, anticipate your next mistake before you even made it. The pressure was immense. His fingers remained where they were, brushing over yours, not guiding but testing, like you were just one more thing he could control.

“Good,” he said after a moment, his tone shifting just slightly—though still distant. “You’re improving.”

The praise should have made you feel better, but instead, it only tightened the coil in your stomach. You weren’t sure what he wanted from you, but the longer you spent in the cockpit beside him, the more you understood: this wasn’t just about flying.

He leaned back slightly, not taking his hand off yours, but letting the subtle pressure shift, just enough to remind you that he was still in control. You felt the weight of it—his presence pressing in on you, the intimate space between you both almost suffocating.

“You need to focus,” he said, and his voice was a little colder now. His hand moved from yours, but not without a lingering touch that left a phantom burn on your skin. You turned your attention back to the controls, trying to steady your breath, trying to focus.

It wasn’t enough.

The plane suddenly jerked.

Your heart leapt into your throat as the world around you shifted. Instinct kicked in, but your hands moved too late. The plane veered, and you could feel the vibrations of the metal, the rush of wind outside pressing against the hull.

“Don’t panic,” Caleb said, voice calm, as if this was a training exercise and not a potential crash. “You’re in control. Take a breath.”

You couldn’t breathe.

The plane dropped again, a sharp dive that made your stomach twist.

“Focus!” His voice cut through the tension, sharp as a knife. “You’re not a rookie anymore, you’re a Fleet pilot. You handle this or you don’t fly.”

His gaze bore into you, commanding, unyielding. You forced yourself to exhale, to concentrate. You gripped the yoke, fingers digging into the smooth, cold surface, and slowly, painfully, you steered the plane back on course.

When it leveled out, your heartbeat thundered in your chest.

“That’s better,” Caleb said, his voice smoother now, almost like a purr. “You didn’t think you’d be able to do it, but you did.”

He looked at you like he knew something you didn’t. Like he had been watching you all along, reading you, seeing how far he could push you before you broke.

And you were starting to feel like you were breaking.

“Let’s see if you can handle some real turbulence.” Caleb’s words were quiet, but there was a hint of something darker behind them. Something that made you wary.

You opened your mouth to ask what he meant, but before you could speak, the plane dipped again, this time even more violently.

You instinctively gripped the yoke harder, your hands now slick with sweat. Caleb didn’t react, didn’t move a muscle. He simply watched, his cold eyes never leaving you.

“Don’t freeze,” he warned. “Fly like your life depends on it.”

It did.

Your knuckles went white as you gripped the yoke harder, trying to force the plane back into control. You fought against the pull of the turbulence, your heart racing in your chest, your breathing shallow and panicked. But through it all, you could feel his gaze, like a weight on your shoulders, pulling you deeper into the turbulence of your own emotions.

When the plane finally steadied, the relief you felt was short-lived. Caleb leaned closer to you, his breath warm against your ear.

“Well done,” he murmured, his voice as calm as if you were simply landing in a controlled environment. “But we both know you’re capable of more.”

His hand brushed over yours again, more deliberate this time, like a promise. But the promise wasn’t of safety. It was of something else. Something darker.

“Let’s take a break,” Caleb said, sitting back in his seat, his voice casual, almost too casual.

You turned to him, your chest still tight, still shaky. He didn’t seem affected by the ordeal at all. In fact, he looked almost pleased.

“You handled it well,” he said, but there was no praise in his voice—only a calm, assessing look that made your skin prickle.

You nodded, but inside, you weren’t sure if you could handle much more. You weren’t afraid of the sky, but of what Caleb was becoming to you.

The lesson was over, but the weight of it clung to you. Every breath felt heavier, as if the air was thicker now, charged with something you couldn’t name. You tried to shake off the tension that still coiled around you, but it wouldn’t release. Your hands were still trembling, your mind buzzing, unable to process the storm of emotions that Caleb had stirred up in such a short time. You could still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin, a reminder of just how close he was.

Your gaze flickered to him, but he wasn’t looking at you now. He was observing something outside the cockpit window, his posture relaxed as if he hadn’t just put you through hell. But you could see the faintest curve to his lips, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

You had passed the test. But you knew—this was just the beginning.

The lesson had only just begun. And you weren’t sure how much more you could take.

[saetiate]

those who like someone with competency vs those who like someone with incompetency. like to the point where it cound be considered a kink/fetish. very intriguing

[kannra21]

Rafayel calm down that's your friend 😂

[gojoest]

I CANT BELIEVE HE SAID THIS