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aeyumicore · 3 months
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☾ .⭒˚ business trip ♡ zayne x afab reader
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⋆.˚ ☾ 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 ⋆.˚ ☾
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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. 
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© aeyumicore 2024. please do not steal ♡
tag list: @bitchykittenconnoisseur
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maimochies · 3 months
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✴ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌
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๋࣭⭑ 𝐌𝐀𝐈 𝐌𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 : drops this on the dash and absolutely books it ₍₍ ᕕ(´◔⌓◔)ᕗ⁾⁾ will be making xavier & rafayel versions for this as well <333
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"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?"
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beneathashadytree · 9 days
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AFTER AN ARGUMENT - TEXTING THE LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MEN
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Warnings : mentions of fighting, miscommunication, anxious boys, reader is gender-neutral!
Genre : hurt/comfort
Additional notes : This was requested by anon a couple of days ago!! I hope I did it justice. I loved the premise of it!
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Taglist: @angry-and-yandere @nxx-jordiepord @honestlyjustablog @dawnbreakersgaze @tartartagliaboo @lucis-noctiana @mushriiin @flurrina @reika-desu @randomidk-123 @tikitsune @cofijelli @roll-of-royces @vash-yuu
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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!
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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.
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revasserium · 3 months
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18 and 28 from promp list 1 with zayne? :>
send me a number + a character and i'll write u a drabble
18. afterglow + 28. cliche of the morning after (take two)
zayne; 1,209 words; fluff, fem!reader, zayn!branded banter, very very vague allusions to top!zayne, whipped!zayne
summary: the morning after, with zayne.
a/n: zayne is not so secretly a simp. no further comments at this time.
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It is often in the moments after, in the liquid exhale of skin on skin, the dissipating heat of body against body — this is when Zayne thinks he sees you most clearly. Faintly, he wonders if he could count every single point of contact between you — your ankles hooked over his (one), your calves pressed together (two), the delicate softness of your hip beneath his palm (three), the weight of your cheek pillowed on his arm (four).
He watches the moth-wing flutter of your lashes as your eyes flicker open to meet his, the petal-sweet spread of your smile as you crinkle your nose and lean in to bury your face in his chest with a groan.
“You’re staring again.”
Your voice is muffled; he feels it vibrating through his skin.
Zayne drops a kiss into your hair as he loops his arms around you.
“Am I not allowed?”
You shake your head, pressing ever closer even as he chuckles, letting his fingers trail through your silken hair, amusing himself with tugging on the ends.
“Feels weird.”
“Does it?” he asks.
You pull back to peer up at him, and he feels himself falling into the galaxies caught behind your eyes, and yes, isn’t it a cliche to fall for a girl like this? To compare her eyes to the light of distant stars, to find her shadow and shade in every flower petal, her voice in every rustle of tree branches, and the chiming of silver bells.
Yes, he thinks — it is.
But he has long since given up trying to rationalize the way you make him feel, ever since you were both children, and he’d imagined what it might feel to someday hold more of you than your hand.
Here, now — with your body pressed to his, Zayne can’t help but wonder at all the parts of you he’s always had — not the bare skin of your waist or the heat caught behind the line of your teeth but other things. The tiny scar on your right elbow (five), the curve of your knee hard against his own (six), the baby’s breath of hair at the nape of your neck that always curled and would never stay in braids the way you liked (seven) —
“Zayne?” your voice is small.
“Hm?”
“What are you thinking about? You look so serious.”
Zayne blinks. He wonders if he should tell you about his thoughts, about how there’s not a moment in the day when he’s not thinking about you. About how he wonders if you’re eating, sleeping, if you’re safe. About how sometimes it keeps him up at night when he thinks about the mortality rates of Hunters, of the unknown, unnamed dangers that await you out there, all the things he can’t protect you from.
He wonders if he should tell you that he spends too long thinking of you — of your body and the way it fits so perfectly inside his arms. Of how the last time he held you in his arms, it took everything in him to let you go, set you down on his office sofa, and watch you as your breaths evened out.
So he says, “Nothing…” so he says, “just… thinking about what to make for breakfast.”
He doesn’t tell you that he’s kept your favorite brand of toothpaste in his bathroom for the past several years, or how he’s always got a drawer full of clothes that he knows you like to wear tucked into his closet.
“Oh! What about pancakes? Or… French Toast?”
Your smile is bright and happy and Zayne can’t help the way he leans down to brush his lips against yours. He savors in the way you gasp and soften against him. He lingers too long on how the smooth of your leg slots so perfectly between his.
“Whichever you feel like more,” he says, pulling back to smile down at you, taking note of the brilliant blush that has since settled across your cheeks.
“What if… I say I want both?”
Zayne lets out a sigh, chuckling as he fixes you with a look.
Want. He wonders if you truly know the depths and width of wanting the way he does — and if you’d still want to stay when you did find out.
Instead, he leans in to nuzzle his nose against yours, reaching up to cup your cheek in his palm.
“Then… I’ll make both.”
“Really?”
You sound too surprised, too pleased.
“But we’ll have to eat healthier for lunch and dinner.”
You crinkle your nose, “But we’ve been so healthy all week!”
Zayne watches you pout for a moment longer before he sighs and pulls back ever so slightly, casting his eyes at the ceiling, letting out a contemplative hum.
“Or, we can go to the gym.”
He knows exactly the face you’re making before he ever looks over to see you make it, and allows himself a small laugh.
“Ugh, you’re no fun.”
“No?” Zayne turns and you go still next to him, eyes wide as he pins you with a look. He watches with a muted satisfaction as color creeps into your cheeks and you blink, attempting to backtrack.
“That’s not — I mean —”
In a single move, he has you pinned beneath him, both your wrists caught in one of his hands, pinned above your head so that you’re stretched out beneath him. He watches as you tug weakly against his hold before going still, blinking up at him from beneath your thick lashes.
“Though…. I suppose there are other ways of burning calories that might be of more interest to you than going to the gym.”
He keeps his voice level, his expression blank. But he counts the quickening pace of your breath, and sees the darkening of your eyes as your pupils dilate.
“Z-Zayne…”
“Didn’t you say you wanted both pancakes and French Toast?” he leans down with a light smile, casually stroking a finger along the line of your cheek.
“Yes but —”
“But?”
You bite your lips, shifting beneath him. And like this, he can’t help the baser, more carnal parts of him as they threaten to take over his senses. Not with you spread out beneath him like this, so tantalizing in your willingness, so defiant and shy all at once.
“You’ll… really make both for me?”
Zayne almost laughs, nodding as he bends down to press a long kiss to your lips, groaning as your hips roll up into his at the sweep of his tongue along your teeth.
“If you’re good.”
You nod, eyes wide and already misted over, “I — I’ll be good.”
Zayne nods once before he tugs the rest of the blankets from you, letting the hunger crest up and through him as he coos by your ear —
“Good… that’s a good girl for me.”
He does end up making both pancakes and French Toast for you in the end. Though, by the time that happens, it’s much too far past noon for either of you to call it breakfast any longer.
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fathomlessgaze · 2 months
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artistry: you paint colors all over zayne's skin before he has to leave
very suggestive mdni + maybe some fluff+angst, zayne/reader, ~1.2k
warnings: 18+ only, making out, lots of hickeys/marking/bruises, they're both possessive tbh, an innuendo, implied to take place before medical rescue with allusions to things discussed in it but no spoilers for what happens in the card itself, allusions to foreseer lore, use of yn, pet names (my love, darling)
an: zayne in turtlenecks...the dawns shadow card......yeah...
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pulling back, you take a look at your handiwork, the colors and splotches scattered over zayne’s neck. with his face tinged an uncharacteristic red and his collarbones no longer an empty canvas of pale skin, you think he’s nothing like the rumors that fly around the hospital. it doesn’t take much at all to reduce him to putty at your fingertips, so long as that person is, well, you.
you lace a hand through his hair, only further tousling the ruffled strands and causing a little groan to fall from his lips. on instinct, his hands fly to your hips, lowering your frame that straddles him to his lap. “yn,” he breathes, “please, hold on.”
he pants as he raises his lowered gaze to meet your eyes, his hazel orbs boring into your own with a sternness that makes you bite down on your lip. “just because i’m not in the hospital this week doesn’t mean i won’t be going outside at all,” he sighs.
pouting, you bring your palm to his jaw, brushing over his cheek. “i’m just…i’m gonna miss you.”
“we will see each other in a few days, won’t we, my love?” 
you drape your wrists on his shoulders and lay your head down in the crook of his neck with a quiet sigh. “i don’t like waiting…” 
there’s a quirk to his lips at your words and he turns his head to plant a kiss on the crown of yours. “it’s just a couple days, and i’m sure you have a lot of preparations to do at work in the meantime.” 
while you know you’re being petulant, you can’t help it. you think zayne and his presence have bled themselves into every part of your life and being. you can’t remember what you did before him, and knowing the frequent power outages near the mountain and both of your busy upcoming schedules, you probably won’t be able to talk much. what are you supposed to do without him? what are you supposed to do when one day feels like a year? when a week brings an air of deja vu that makes a pit form in your stomach, as if you’ve been torn apart without him beside you before?
“i guess,” you mumble, sniffling.
“don’t cry, yn,” he exhales. he brings a hand from your hip to your face, thumbing away the small droplet that falls from the corner of your eye. 
“what if something happens to you?” your murmur.  
“nothing will happen,” he whispers. “i will be okay; i have done these rescue missions many times before.”
you let out a small whimper as you kiss the corner of his mouth, letting your own linger, your breaths practically becoming his. “promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”
even though he tries his best to downplay the way your care and concern reach his heart, you know him better than that, the faintest blush of pink building on his hot cheeks. he attempts once more at a serious expression as you discuss safety, a topic he wishes you would yield more to, but alas… pondering his options, a small smirk sneaks past his attempt to put on a nonchalant facade at your words. “i will promise that…but only if you promise me the same thing first.” 
“fine.” you pout, a much quicker agreement than he was expecting. “i promise.” 
you lean in close, your small exhale lingering between the two of you before your mouths meet once more and you gently nibble on his lower lip. a small moan escapes him, vibrating through your kiss and to your own body, but even he can’t make you forget your purpose. not this time, at least.
steeling yourself, you put on a stern glare as you pull away and ignore the pang from your separation that blooms in your gut. “your turn.”
he stares with a quiet intensity as you pull away, trying to feign impassivity despite his round pupils that watch your movement carefully, giving away everything you may want to know. taking your fingers in his own, he brings them to his lips, locking eyes with you all the way. “very well then. i promise.” 
knowing him, you can predict how his business trip will begin without you there and you shoot him a pointed look. “and the first thing we’re doing when i get there is having a meal together.”
his hand reaches for your jaw and cheekbones once more, cupping your face tenderly in his large palm. “alright then.” 
when you finally are satisfied with his response, resting your head back on his shoulder, you pucker your lips to his skin once again, pressing lazy kisses along his jaw. his muscles stiffen beneath you as you continue adding new colors and marks to his skin, his head falling forward to rest on your shoulder as he caves in.
“yn,” he warns lowly, the last bits of rationality trying to claw back at what’s taken over the rest of his thoughts. “at this rate everyone will know what we’ve been up to when i get to the base.”
“good,” you hum, the vibrations echoing along his skin. “i don’t know who’ll be there.”
maybe this was always a losing battle.
“so maybe that’s what i want.”
this was definitely always a losing battle, he decides. zayne would like to think he’s very diligent in whatever he decides to put his mind to, but if there’s anything he just can’t do, at least not without extreme difficulty, it’s saying no to you, especially when you give him your signature cute little look or use some of your other equally persuasive methods. 
your eyes flicker to his before you resume your work, painting warm splotches along his neck and collarbone. “maybe everyone should know you’re mine. just in case.”  
he moans at your words, tightening his grip around your waist, but he admittedly tilts his head, giving you more room to continue your efforts. 
a beat passes before you pull away to admire the latest artwork you’ve added to the collection of marks you’ve made tonight. “you look really good in that turtleneck anyway,” you whisper, pressing one last gentle kiss to soothe the spot before moving to the next inch of his skin to tease. 
something in your words jumpstarts what’s been hiding, lying low, in the back of his mind. his gaze hardens at your words, his hands finding and squeezing your hips to still you so he can flip you both and is hovering over you. “oh, darling, you better believe i won’t be the only one who will have to cover up marks and bruises.”
sure, he’ll have to get up earlier and do a lot to hide all the work you’ve done on his collarbones for the next few days at minimum…at least until you arrive and can help him conceal all of your “art” on his skin. but there’s no way he’s going down without a fight. and when he plants his lips under your jaw, hovering dangerously close to your pulse point that thuds along to the unsteady rhythm in your ears, you know it’s over for you. it’s gonna be a long night. not that you mind exactly…
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ashinaisshin · 2 months
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Arriving at Anor Londo
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bookishdreamer28 · 2 months
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Rafayel x reader
Just Rafayel being head over heels in love 💜
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"Rafayel are you drunk already?" You giggled as he gently picked you up and twirled you around. His melodious laugh filled the air. You and Rafayel were celebrating your anniversary together, and you decided to stay home, drink as much wine as you want and of course, kiss and cuddle as many times as you want.
"Nope, just in love" he said and gave you a peck on your lips.
"How lucky I am, having my own personal sweet-talker"you said and once he set you down, he kissed your hand and held it close to his chest.
His eyes were shining, like two crystal stones.
You rested your forehead on his, a fleeting smile displaying on your faces. This was all you needed. Just the two of you getting lost in your own beautiful world.
"Hhm I'm so happy" he sighed and his hands found their place upon her hips as always, further pulling you closer to his figure. your arms wrapped around his shoulders, your bodies magnetically connecting as one while moving to the rhythm of the music playing in the background.
Your eyes found his as he kept looking at you.
"You're staring..again"
"How can I not? It's the most impossible thing to do when I have you in front of me"
"Oh please, do tell me more" as you stood on your tippy-toes, you heard him stop breathing, anticipating for your lips to touch his.
"You do love tormenting me, huh?"
"I just love seeing you all flustered" you gave him a small pinch on the cheek. He rolled his eyes and grabbed you by your waist.
"You are such a tease"
"Oh look who's talking"
You said and without saying anything more, he suddenly crashed his lips against yours violently. Savoring every taste and feeling. You softly moaned and Rafael's heart beat quickened. The noises you made every time you two kissed drove him crazy. He was weak on his knees for you.
"The things you do to me, the things I feel, nothing can ever be compared to the feeling of you touching me like this, loving me like this" he said once he pulled away from the kiss, and stared deeply in your eyes, letting himself swim in the starlight ocean of your pretty irises.
"Looked at you, my pretty flower" he said and softly laughed at your blushy face.
"And you say that I'm the one tormenting you. But when you say things like these..." you hide your face on the crook of his neck and he chuckled at your adorableness.
"But you're my everything! I want to remind you every minute just how much I adore you" Hearing all these words made your heart flutter in a way you didn't know you could feel. You looked up at him and he leaned down to leave a small peck on the tip of your nose and you smiled at the action.
"Now, will you dance with me again m'lady?" He held out his hand from below like a prince and you immediately held it, a huge smile displaying on your face.
"Of course my prince" you said in a teasing tone and for the rest of your dreamy night, nothing else mattered when you danced in each other's.
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Rafayel is just so....so 🙇🏻‍♀️
Next is ma man Zayne so stay tuned !!!
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aeyumicore · 1 month
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☾ .⭒˚ heart within reach ♡ zayne x afab reader
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⋆.˚ ☾ 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 ☾ .⭒˚
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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.”
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© aeyumicore 2024. please do not steal, translate, or repost ♡
tag list: @queenashen @kttriangle @lyssa-211 @jeikeun @achicilove
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maimochies · 2 months
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✮⋆˙ 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒
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𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 . . . often covers the corners of sharp countertops or open drawers with the palm of his hand whenever you're bending down to retrieve something, ensuring you won't bump your head on your way up. this small gesture often goes unnoticed by you, but his care for you never wavers. as someone who sees many injuries in their day to day lives the last thing he wants is for you to be in pain.
𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 . . . likes to keep polaroids of you. while his art is often displayed for everyone to see there are pieces of his life he wishes to cherish for himself. he's got a box of polaroid pictures in his studio, some solo shots of you while others picture the two of you on your endeavors. when he feels low on inspiration he likes to look back at these fond memories for inspiration.
𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 . . . always links your pinkies together when you're walking. doesn't matter if the trip is long or short, doesn't latter if the streets are quiet or busy — he'll keep you tucked close with a small act of intimacy. and rest assured that he will shoulder anyone out the way who dares to try and break this contact, a glare usually does the trick though.
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beneathashadytree · 3 days
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ACCIDENTAL CONFESSIONS - TEXTING THE LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MEN
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Warnings : none I think, reader is gender-neutral!
Genre : fluff!!
Additional notes : This was an adorable request I’d received!! I love the trope of accidentally confessing to someone (because it’s literally something I’d do—) so I hope I did it justice with this!!
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dualitue · 2 months
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𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐑 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 !
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★ mentions of manipulation + obsession and abusive relationship + semi-public sex + jealousy + thirst for academic validation (so real)
★ this one is especially for my lovely girlies who constantly dream about getting fucked brutally and also be the top of their class. i deserve to be number one or turn into dust, nothing in between that.
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It's not a game of survival after all, you try to remind yourself all the time. It's just some classes, nothing that sleepless nights of studying cannot solve. However thanks to your stubborn professor who despises handing out higher grades, (the ones that you strongly believe that you deserve) you always find yourself back to square one. Studying, studying, studying and never getting the highest mark. At first, you felt like you haven't been studying hard enough—but after failing his class twice, you decided to take the same class from a different professor.
Professor Zayne.
What a dreamy guy, you'd hear from the other girls at the halls—whispering to each other excitedly. And you truly get the hype, really. He's tall, handsome, and there's this enchanting thing surrounding him that nails you to ground every time you run into him. His voice never fails to shake you to your core, and every time you feel struck by his charms, you need a breath of fresh air to get back into your right mind.
As if he senses that mental distance that you try to put, Professor Zayne always finds a way to draw you closer, pulling you back into that whirlwind of mixed emotions. Your mouth goes dry as his fingertips slightly brush over your tense shoulders during quizzes, or the way he stares into your eyes to peek into the depths of your soul even though he's talking to someone else.
Even though you don't want to admit, there's only a little you can do about this strange magnetic force between you and your beloved professor. Under that distant and emotionless face lies a soft man who makes you feel worthy of all that you've missed out on up until now, and you've been proved with such examples of that countless times.
That's when it became a survival game; when he offered you to be his assistant. Of course, nothing serious—you haven't graduated after all, so all you're assigned with are some small stuff that are probably irrelevant and carry no importance.
Yet, the way the corner of his lips curl into the slightest bit of a smile gets your heart beating faster whenever you successfully complete a task.
"Like the good girl you are," he says, an underlying tone of amusement can be sensed in his voice as he speaks. And you always, desperately, leave claw marks on every praise and compliment he gives you.
Over the course of the time you two have spent together, Zayne has taught you one thing; to be greedy. From unable to voice your wants in a natural way, you've become someone who can demand what they want. However, this dynamic has a little secret to it; if Zayne is the one giving you the praise you want, even though both of you know that you deserve it more than anyone, he makes you work for it.
It has started with your vent about your previous professor being an asshole about grading papers; he'd listen to you intently as you let your heart all out and get his study desk all messy. Broken sobs between your hatred filled words; you do deserve better and you do know that, so why should it be hard to enjoy the satisfaction of your well deserved success?
With his big, soft hand and warm palm Zayne would cup your red and burning cheek—his thumb gently rubbing your cheekbone; supporting you with a comfort that you've never known before. It didn't take long for you to get used to it; and Zayne never stopped making you ask for more.
"Yeah, sweet girl, get comfy there," he says; and it's almost impossible to be comfortable under his desk, you feel your knees getting bruised and your shoulders aching as your fingers hurriedly unzip his pants and free his hardened cock from his clothes. But, what else can you do to earn that addicting kiss, lingering on your lips even after days... or the way he makes you lie down on his cramped desk. Some folders hurt your back and your legs tremble as his fingers bury themselves deep in your cunt; slick sounds filling his room as he lands a slap to your pussy every time you get slightly loud.
What he loves most is when you let him fuck you before his classes. He hurriedly strips you off your clothes, his skilled fingers exploring your squirming body as if time is abundant. He sometimes cages your body between his firm chest and the cold wall as he sloppily fucks you from behind, or he gets you on his lap to feel your cunt squeeze around his twitching cunt when you take all of it...
The line, if there's any, between who knows what gets blurry with each interaction. Is this just a simple thing, or are you two using each other? It's not like he's not paying attention to you after these small interactions; he checks your essays the moment you send them, helping you with any questions you have or any assignment related stuff. What he definitely doesn't enjoy is that the way you help others in your class when they ask nicely.
On days that he sees other students around you, asking you stuff about his class, he simply uses you like a fuckdoll. Abusing your sensitive cunt, pulling back just as you're about to cum around his cock and spilling on your panties to remind you that you're not the one who can help, but the one who needs help.
And slowly but surely he manages to engrave that to your brain after, after a whole semester, you're almost dependent on him. No assignment feels good enough to be submitted before he approves, no studying session is efficient enough if he doesn't have you on his lap, grinding against his hard cock. No day is a good day if he hasn't kissed you until you feel dizzy. And no boys or your toys are able to fill you up the way he does. Some nights you find yourself in your bed, trembling fingers buried deep in your cunt, trying to touch the spots he easily touches. But it ends the same; you, in his room the next morning, begging him to make you cum because it's driving you insane.
And the praises, and the compliments and all of that don't feel enough, too. No claw marks on anything anymore, just this insatiable desire in you to seek a shelter in his loving arms.
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revasserium · 23 days
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A request for the prompt "Stolen kisses" + Zayne!! Thank you so much :D
also I love your writing SOO much <3
prompt list reqs are: temporarily closed
49. stolen kisses
zayne; 1,720 words; fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", whipped!zayne, implied sex, but still very saucy, zayne is hornee 24/7 and hes not afraid to show it
summary: 3 kisses, some stolen, others willingly given
a/n: i believe in my heart of hearts that zayne is barely keeping it together around the mc
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one. After dinner, when the pair of you are cleaning up and your sleeves rolled up to your elbows, his arms snaking around your waist to pull you back into him as he presses a kiss to your neck before trailing his lips up to your cheek. Your laughter rings through the kitchen, folding around the pair of you like wings. His smile is soft, is radiant, is tender and absolute as he pulls back to regard you with his searching eyes.
“Good dinner?” he asks.
“The best,” you answer, grinning as you trail a finger along his jaw to tangle your fingers in his hair.
“Good…” he breathes the word against your cheek, leaning in, the ends of his bangs tickling the skin of your face. You make to pull back, but his arms loop tighter around your waist, pressing you close, holding you against the solid cool of the marble countertop.
“But we haven’t yet had dessert.”
Heat flushes up your neck and up, up, up till you can feel your face burning, as you blink up at him from beneath your lashes, feigning innocence.
“I didn’t know we had dessert planned on the menu.”
His grin goes sideways, his eyes taking on a darker, more dangerous light.
“It’s not always planned but…” his voice trails off as a tingling shiver races up your spine, “It is always… considered.”
And then, he leans in to kiss you — and he kisses you with a hunger that has nothing to do with the scrumptious meal you’ve just shared and everything to do with the pulsing heat coalescing between your bodies as he lifts you up onto the counter.
He kisses you like he wants to ruin your mouth for all other tastes but him; he kisses you as if he’s already been ruined by the taste of you.
two. It is unprofessional; you know — and so does he — to do this here, with your back pressed against the wood of his office door, his white coat slipping off his shoulders, his glasses nearly knocked askance by the force of this kiss.
You’d always known that just beneath his smooth, tempered glass facade is the kind of roiling heat that makes up the heart of the earth, the kind of passion that licked at the mouths of volcanoes and rends the sky into nothing but a devastation of ashes.
But here, now, the only rending is his fingers pressing into the dip of your waist, the only devastation his tongue as it traces along the inside of your teeth. You hear yourself make a low, wanton noise and feel him react, his fingers tightening impossibly, his mouth ever and ever more demanding.
“Z-Zayne… we —” but the words die on your lips as he drops his to the bare skin of your neck. You can’t help the gasp that tumbles from your mouth, nor the sudden flash of memory — crystal clear and sharp, as if carved from ice — of the night before, when he had sunk his teeth into your bare shoulder and twisted your hair with trembling fists. It had been pain and impossible, improbable passion. All urge and fire, desperation and need.
“Shhh…” Zayne murmurs against your skin, groaning softly as he finds your lips with his own again. And you are helpless all over again. Weak against the burning need of his embrace.
A soft knock shocks both of you from the frenzied passion soaking through your bones, threatening to blot out your good sense entirely. You pull apart, gasping. From the other side of the door comes the muffled voice of a nurse -
“Dr. Zayne? Your next patient is here. Shall I let him in?”
Zayne hisses out another breath before pulling away.
“Yes, just give me five minutes - finishing a report.”
You can't help the amused grin that tugs across your lips as the both of you make to tidy the slight mess you've made.
“So… I'm a report now, am I?”
But Zayne only regards you with a light, challenging look, quirking his brows.
“No.”
You blink, confused. Then Zayne smiles.
“We’re nowhere near finished.”
A fresh wave of heat crests up into your cheeks as you purse your lips, casting your eyes anywhere but Zayne's pleased face.
“Unprofessional,” you accuse, through the word lacks any vehemence, marred by the extensive blush still coloring your cheeks.
Zayne straightens his impeccably pressed white doctor's coat before taking three swift steps into your space, his chest nearly pushing against yours. He reaches out to tilt your chin up towards him and you feel a hitched breath caught like an insect in amber, suspended perfectly between your lungs and your throat.
Slowly, Zayne draws his thumb across the plush of your bottom lip. You feel his breath fanning across it like a wave of summer heat, found at the heart of winter itself.
“Only in front of you.”
He pulls away just as another gentle knock comes at the door, the nurse's voice announcing the arrival of Zayne's next patient. Zayne casts you one last lingering, meaningful look before gently nudging you aside to pull open the door, the vision of a young and promising doctor as he greets his patient with a small smile, the other hand guiding you towards the opened door.
"Don't forget to take your supplements,” he chides in a voice just gentle enough to inform polite company of his fondness for you, but nothing in it would hint at the indiscretions that had been committed only minutes prior.
"Okay,” you say, ducking your head as you brush by the middle- aged man blinking at the pair of you.
"And… see you at home.”
You only manage a nod and a squeak as the nurse chuckles behind her hand and the middle- aged man makes a soft noise of understanding.
three. You are both eighteen, and teetering on the edge of adulthood — though he’s already well on his way to stardom.
“Congrats — on the Starcatcher Award —“ you feel your throat catch around the words, and suddenly, your mouth is dry, your cheeks hot, your fingers twisting behind your back as you rock on the balls of your feet.
Zayne watches you, his expression thoughtfully blank, but his eyes — they’ve always been his tell. You meet them and search them and feel the fire caught behind them. His Evol might be ice, but… his soul has always been something that burns.
“Thanks,” he says, and you can almost taste the unsaid words bubbling just at the back of his throat. You wish he would tell you, but there’s a depthless chasm cut into the air between the pair of you, rough and jagged and —
“Do you know what I received the award for?”
You blink, startled. You purse your lips, looking away. It’d been too painful, too much to look into it, the knowledge of his brilliance always nipping at your heels like an unruly dog. It had pushed you forward, yes, but only out of the fear that if you let up even one single step, he’d race too far ahead and… leave you behind.
“N-no — I haven’t —“
“For my research on congenital heart defects in infants.”
The world slows, tunnels, and tilts around you. Your eyes jerk up to meet his and there — you see it, the blistering heart of all his so-called fire — and you remember suddenly that if it’s cold enough, the body starts to process the sensation as heat. That ice and fire are not so different.
That ice can also burn.
You find your own hands clutched just above where your heart beats inside your chest and you see his eyes flicker down towards them.
“Zayne —“
“I start work at a clinic next week.”
A frown creases at your temple.
“Our first appointment is on Tuesday.”
Your frown deepens.
“What do you —“
“To qualify for the Hunter Program, you need a medical verification of fitness. And… a primary care physician.”
At these last words, his eyes finally cut away. And here, in the dying light of his brand new living room, the sunset turns his glasses opaque for just a second. You’re left blinking in the aftermath of that light, the afterimages will be stained behind your eyelids for hours after — just that look, the firm line of his shoulders, the determined set of his mouth, his jaw, the softness in his fingers as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering against the bend of your cheek.
“L-Lying on reports would be a medical malpractice suit waiting to happen,” you say, your voice shaking with either delirium or emotion, you’re not sure which.
Zayne quirks an eyebrow, “I have no plans on lying.”
“But —“ your fingers clench at your chest.
“I’m just… confident in my own skills, that’s all.”
The shadow of a grin twists his lips and he turns back to you, his eyes cast in threads of molten gold.
“Oh… of course,” you let out a soft breath of laughter, toppling back into the sofa and tossing your arm across your eyes. A moment later, you feel the cushions of the sofa sink beside you.
“Hey, look at me.”
You drop your arm and turn, your head still pillowed against the back of the sofa. Zayne’s gaze flickers over every aspect of your face before he reaches out to take your hand in his. Slowly, he leans down to press his lips to your knuckles, letting his lips linger there till you make a soft, questioning noise at the back of your throat.
He looks back up with a knowing smile.
“Shall we get something to eat?”
You jump to your feet, “Y-yes! My treat — a congratulations gift!”
Zayne considers for a moment before sighing, “Alright, but just this once.”
“What, we’re not allowed to go out to dinner now that you’re a certified doctor?”
Zayne’s mouth twitches with amusement as he reaches for his coat.
“No, we’ll still go out for dinner — you’re just no longer allowed to pay for them.”
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miclipse · 2 months
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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ worth the wait.
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pairing: rafayel x fem! reader
sypnosis: rafayel hates waiting. but maybe, just maybe, some things are worth waiting for. even if it takes 800 years.
word count: 0.7k
cw: afab! reader, minor spoilers for rafayel's backstory, implications of abysswalker! rafayel, nicknames used (princess, silly girl, your highness), fluff
note: wrote this at 2am last night, might be a bit bad >< comments appreciated !!
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all you felt right now was the cooling sensation of rafayel's hand pressed against your warm forehead.
a click of the tongue could be heard, the merman's normally relaxed expression now scrunched up in frustration.
oh, don't get him wrong. he wasn't mad at you; he never will be. he was mad at himself. how foolish he was to let you wait for him at your balcony for hours, even as the sun went to sleep and the moon rose up into the cloudy abyss.
it was never his intention to be late— rafayel always hated when others were late. however, this time was a little different. he had spent long hours in the sea, looking for the prettiest seashell or gemstone he wanted to gift to you.
afterall, a princess like yourself deserved an exquisite gift from her prince, did she not?
rafayel was young and ignorant at that time. he had underestimated how fast time flew by, and before he knew it, it was dark out when he emerged from the waters. panicked and guilty, he prayed that you hadn't spent your whole evening waiting upon his arrival.
the air was chilly at night, he used to nag at you often. he knew how easily you'd catch a cold from the night breeze. yet, the merman didn't find it the least bit surprising when he spotted you loyally sitting by your balcony, looking into the reflections of the ocean as you patiently awaited for his return.
"you silly girl." his chide was accompanied with a disappointed sigh. "i told you not to wait for me when it gets dark outside, did you forget my words?" he added, his index finger and thumb gently pinching your warm cheek.
you mumbled out a barely coherent response, the fever seemed to be messing with your senses. but rafayel was able to make out a faint 'i wanted to see you' amidst the rest of your nonsensical mumbles.
hearing your sweet answer made his heart sink with guilt. his sweet princess wanted to see him as soon as possible. you wanted for his vision to be filled with you and only you the moment he emerged from the waters. your loyalty and dedication also came with a pinch of possessiveness, something that rafayel knew all too well.
"imagine how the kingdom will react when they find out your highness caught a cold waiting for her merman of a lover." rafayel couldn't help but squeeze in a teasing remark or two even in a situation like this. he squeezed your cheek once again, gently.
you whined out a response, but rafayel just laughed and shook his head. "shh. i won't leave your side until you're all better. promise." his sweet whispers accompanied with the tips of his fingers combing through your hair were your lullaby for that night.
the last thing you saw that night was a blurry view of rafayel sitting by the edge of your bed, looking at something in the palm of his hand. “i'll give this to you once you're better.” the merman whispered to himself with a fond smile.
rafayel hated when people left him waiting. it left him with an anxious feeling. a sense of abandonment. and he couldn't help but wonder, was this what you felt 800 years ago, when you were waiting by the balcony for him? just imagining how your poor, fragile heart felt during those hours as the day turned to night made his heart ache tremendously.
perhaps karma finally struck him for making his poor princess wait outside alone 800 years ago, as he suffered a similar fate.
"you're late. i told you i hate it when people are late." rafayel frowned, his lips forming into a pout as he crossed his arms, turning away from you.
you only laughed and hugged his arm, standing on your tippy toes to give him a peck on his soft lips as repentance for your tardiness.
the merman only huffed. as you looked away from him, rafayel stole a quick glance at you from his peripheral vision. his gaze wandered to the seashell hanging around your neck.
rafayel hated when people left him waiting. but maybe, after finally being able to give his heart to you once again after 800 years, just maybe, the wait was all worthwhile.
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all rights reserved © miclipse 2024. do not repost, plagiarize, copy, modify or translate my works on any platforms.
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jiosoull · 28 days
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Just A Prank Bro
"What are those squishy noises I hear in the background, Doctor Zayne?" You furrowed your eyebrows, focusing on the wet sounds echoing faintly into your ear. It sounded like someone was prodding into some thick plastic— or maybe it was flesh.
A gentle and cringing squeak caught your attention. Must've been wheels rolling on the tiles. And if you focused a little harder, you could make out a soft and rhythimic beeping from the call. That sound must've come from a monitor.
Was he attending to a patient?
"I'm holding a kidney right now." Zayne answered coolly, emphasizing it as he brought the squishy thing closer to the phone. And squeezed it.
Your eyes blew wide open as you flinched back from the screen with shock, and a bit of concern. And a bit unnerving.
"Th-That sounds..." You hesitated, but shook your head firmly and cleared your throat awkwardly, "You know what nevermind. You sound pretty busy and I don't wanna disturb your work. I'll call you later, Zayne!" You quickly hung up on him.
Zayne on the other hand, stared at the end call screen where a picture of your lovely face was displayed on his phone wallpaper.
He stifled a dry chuckle and smiled. A ruined small slice of orange in his gloved hand.
The little girl on the bed stared up at the doctor throughout the whole conversation. A blood bag hanging beside her with a small tube connected to her arm.
"Why'd you crushed it?" She pointed at the squished remains of the small piece of orange in his hand.
"Just proving a point." He added smoothly in a sly tone.
🙈
I don't think he'd risk taking a phone call while he was doing surgery buuuuuttt he can be a very convincing actor. Based on this! 👇 @pumpkin-patch-cat tq op for tickling my 🧠 lol
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