summary|| very self indulgent hc of how zayne treats you before, during and after he gives oral. isn't strictly dom or sub, amab or afab so could be read either way(more dom afab reader as I am)- spoilers: he's just super sweet and lovely towards you so a big service top (as usual what a surprise.)
includes|| service top zayne x fem/gn/male reader || eating out/blow job/oral (receiving) || nipple play (receiving) || aftercare
(this is dedicated to a very sweet boy who knows exactly who he is. thank you for helping me write this and motivate me!! <3)
zayne will always wait for you to give him the 'okay'. even if the moment is clearly leading up to it, even if he's dropped to his knees with a "let me take care of you", he will always ask or look for a sign from you to let him continue. he doesn't want to overstep anything and potentially lose you. zayne's only motive is making you happy (and losing himself in his favourite place).
zayne believes very firmly in foreplay and loves knowing that even though what he's doing isn't 'sexual', you're still feeling good and he can feel your breath slowly become more laboured. occasionally (a lot of the time), he will lay on top of you acting as a weighted blanket as you play with his hair to calm him before his thoughts get the better of him and his hands cup your chest. zayne knows the human body but the human body still isn't quite you. he enjoys testing things that he has learnt from his years of education or media on you to make sure he is maximising your pleasure if you didn't know about your sensitive spots or were too shy to tell him.
make sure to tell him when you're ready or he may end up cumming untouched just from playing with your chest (he is a boob man he can't help it). zayne has become slightly addicted to your chest and after finding out how much more it riles you up, always gives both of your nipples attention simultaneously. just before being pried off, he'll kiss your chest to express his deepest thanks.
not only this but he'll take his time working his way down and press small kisses over your body to worship you. if you're wearing clothes, zayne will gently work them off for you and place them neatly close by with care. he desperately wants to spoil and express his love for you in any way that he can to ensure you that you have made the right choice to trust him. if you listen closely enough, you'll hear him whispering praises and his heart beating loudly just for you.
his technique- perfect. he knows anatomy and has taken the time to learn exactly what will make you feel good. zayne tries his best to put what he knows into practice and not get too sloppy from being excited to be able to taste you. he will gently hold your thighs and rub small circles into them to help you relax into him and also allow your hands to push him down or pull him off. everything he does is for you and he encourages both allowing him to do all the work for you or for you to use him however you need. zayne is very good at putting everything before himself so make sure to thank him with a kiss.
his favourite positions (forgive me for not knowing names) are you sat on the edge of the bed/a chair and him kneeling below you (to really enforce that he is serving you), face sitting (he is that audio) and with you lay back with him between your legs on the bed/sofa (you're both comfortable he'll say).
he will go for as long as you need/want so don't worry about taking too long or finishing quickly- all he needs is to make you feel good with your pretty blissed face and that is all the payment he'll ever need. his heart swells with pride as he steals glances at you rolling your head back. if you want to test your limits and overstimulate yourself (/let him eat for as long as he'd like as a treat), zayne will gently hold onto your hands to limit the temptation to pull him away as he cherishes the moments when your thighs squeeze him instead.
when his mouth isn't full, zayne makes sure to check in with you and really check in. he can get annoying but he knows when you're not enjoying yourself and will stop if it looks like you have no intention to after a little while (for whatever reason, not in the right headspace or just not in the mood for it as much as you initially though, he can tell and would never judge you). "please... talk to me my darling."he'll beg but still giving you time and space to respond however you're comfortable.
he's attentive anyways and throughout the entire scene but zayne really puts the care into aftercare. when you've had enough, he makes sure to immediately come back up to check on you and ground you (and calm his own heart down). he tries not to bombard you with questions and talking too much but he suddenly becomes your very emotional doctor checking you over. zayne pushes these feelings aside for now and calmly asks "hey, are you alright?" in a tone so soft it makes your heart melt. a nod will suffice and he can't help his need to kiss you. "you were perfect" he says letting his forehead touch yours.
subconsciously, he slips into a very nurturing roll and becomes vocal in your stead. depending on the time of day and what you were wearing, he'll help you redress and talk you through everything. "let's get you dressed come on. left leg please. thank you. can you lift yourself up a little? thank you my love." all in the same soft tone to ease you back. he dotes on you like this not in a parent child relationship way but just because he wishes to spoil you and lift all of your stresses. zayne is so conscious of you, how lucky he is and his curse so he does not hesitate to show you how precious you are to him and how he would happily do anything and everything for you.
zayne gets things for you afterwards most of the time (however he is usually prepared depending on how spontaneous you two were) but if you need to walk for something, he'll follow close by with an arm around your waist to steady you (if you don't let him carry you that is).
unfortunately, he will completely deny his own pleasure and put you before him. if you're too tired or aren't in the mood anymore, zayne will ignore just how much he is aching for you and focus on caring for you (although, being able to taste you is plenty and he even sometimes finishes just from that). please allow him to touch himself or give him a toy as he eats if you don't think you'll be able to repay the favour in the moment. I promise he will work just as hard but it might take a little insisting to allow him to be 'selfish' (as he'd put it).
zayne loves to see you relaxed, comfortable and happy and he is eager to serve you.
Please make a story that zayne is very clingy, sweet , romantic
For Mc
Pretty please
Make it long
Please
Please
Need a food 🥺
Food is served!! (One of these days you guys are gonna see an 'only accepting requests for Rafayel now' post and it'll be Raf hijacking my computer because WHY WAS I CATCHING FEELINGS FOR ZAYNE WHILE WRITING THIS??)
Doctor's Orders
Zayne x Reader ❄
Summary: Zayne has suggested you skip work today, which isn't suspicious at all...
Genre: Fluff (with a *pinch* of angst)
Warnings/Additional tags: gn!reader, established relationship, some kisses, some mentions of death (just a real mixed bag, you know?)
| Word count: 2k | Masterlist |
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!
“Do you really have to go?”
Zayne was a lot of things: caring, even doting, but never normally this… clingy.
You pretend not to hear the question, feeling the weight of his eyes on your back as you get ready to leave. You will answer it— you’re not ignoring him— but you have so much to do, and you’ve answered it three times already. Yes, Zayne. It’s work. You finish lacing your boots. And no, Zayne, I can’t get out of it.
And since when was he an advocate of skipping a shift, anyway? Like blood from a stone, he’d calmly pleaded with you to come up with some sort of excuse and you’d stared back, eyes wide, because you didn’t know stones could bleed.
An excuse? You’d repeated in disbelief.
Yes. You could… tell them you’re sick? I could write you a note.
You’d thought it a joke until he drew out a pen and started scrawling something on the nearest scrap of paper. He’d pushed it into your hands, his gaze earnest, as though he were trusting a co-conspirator. Here, he’d said matter-of-factly, you can give it to your captain tomorrow.
The writing was barely legible.
It’s still crinkling in your pocket now: your little ‘get-out-of-your-Sunday-shift-free’ card, courtesy of Doctor Zayne, and yes, you are going to hold onto it, but it’s not for Jenna. It’s for your apartment wall, where you’ll be mounting it in a golden frame, because absolutely no-one is going to believe you when you tell this story.
You collect your guns from a nearby drawer, checking the sights and the safety on each before holstering them at your sides. “The sooner I leave, the sooner I’ll get back,” you shrug.
A nice sentiment— not entirely true. “Or you could stay.” Zayne is looking at your weapons, not you.
He’s sat at the kitchen table, watching you over an untouched breakfast. Yours also sits around him: plates upon plates of every food you could imagine, warm and cold, savoury and sweet. You’d suffered a brief heart attack when you’d first laid eyes on it, presuming you’d forgotten some occasion or another.
There’s even a vase of fresh flowers, flourishing at the centre of it all.
It’s one of the most romantic things you’ve ever seen, but you’re starting to think that’s the point. Like a hand on your heart, squeezing; it’s urging you to sit back down, to relax, to surrender and let him take care of you. Are you the worst person in the world? It feels like you are.
Ready to take on anything but more of his gaze, you return to the table, fully-armed, and pluck a strawberry from the edge of a plate. You pop it into your mouth, savouring its sweetness as you stroll behind Zayne’s chair. “Try not to worry,” you mumble, resting your hand on his shoulder while you lean in to kiss his cheek. “Ok?”
“Ok.”
You go to pull away, but his hand lands on your hand, anchoring you to him. His fingers wrap around your wrist, lifting, guiding your fingers in front of his mouth so he can press a few, brisk kisses to each. Your heart is in a vice again— tightening with every brush of his lips. You can’t take it. You can’t.
He knows, and he’s turning in the chair, slipping his free hand around your waist and tugging until you’re crushed up against him. “Stay. Please?” his voice entreats. You can barely hear it from where his face is nestled into you.
You have to remind yourself to breathe, and you sigh as your hands move to cradle his head and run your fingers through his hair. You want to enjoy this. Why can’t you enjoy this?
His breath is fanning against you and all you can think about is the fact that he’s making you late.
…
You’re marching to headquarters twice as quickly as usual, and you’ve crashed into three people already. Every time there’s been an impulse to scream “get out of the way!” but you’re wearing your uniform, so you have to apologise, smile sweetly, and pretend you’re not one incident away from turning in your badge and leaving them all to fend for themselves.
Someone steps out in front of you and you have to swerve to miss them, almost dropping your phone in the process. It had just started ringing, and the noise persists as you fumble with it.
“Hello?” you answer, putting it to one ear as you plug the other with a finger.
“Hi!” It’s Greyson, finally, and he’s surprisingly chipper for someone you know is just coming off of his graveyard shift. “I saw your texts. Is everything ok?”
“Yeah! Thanks for calling. It’s just…” Everything’s too noisy for you to concentrate, and you’re still essentially running an obstacle course. You peel away from the crowd, ducking into the quiet of an alley. “I’m a little worried about Zayne. He’s been acting weird all weekend, ever since—”
“Friday?”
“Yeah.” That couldn’t mean anything good. Your brow furrows. “Did something happen?”
A drawn-out sigh makes it through the phone, and you know Greyson well enough to know he’s pinching the bridge of his nose, wondering just how much he should tell you. “We had a patient transferred to us on Friday,” he caves, “a young woman— a hunter, injured— she was… not in a good way. Recovery odds next to zero, but Zayne? You know Zayne. He had to try.”
You nod, even though Greyson can’t see it. There’s dread in the pit of your stomach; you can tell where this is going.
“She didn’t make it,” he states with the rehearsed evenness of someone who’s spoken the words too many times before. There’s another sigh, then he hastens to add: “Zayne was incredible, though— he did everything he could, really. He was her best chance, he just… wasn’t enough. You can’t save everyone, you know?” He chuckles awkwardly. “Yeah, you know.”
And you do: you’re just as haunted by that truth and all of its ghosts. “Yeah,” you speak at last, seeing their faces. Your throat hurts. “Thanks, Greyson. Really.”
“That’s ok,” he yawns. “If Zayne asks, you didn’t hear it from me.”
“You think he’s gonna believe that?”
“No.” He’s smiling, now— you can tell. “But it’s worth a try! You take care of yourself, ok?”
“You too. Thanks again.”
“Any time.”
…
You’ve only been gone for half an hour, but Zayne is fast asleep. Though you’d practically burst through the front door, his head is still lowered— dipping over an open medical journal— and his dark hair has fallen over his eyes. You can’t help but smile. This wasn’t the nervous, pacing-the-apartment man you’d expected to find, but it eases the guilt in your chest for the first time all morning.
You sling your bag from your shoulder and set it gently down on the floor, all the while easing the door closed behind you. You unfasten your holsters. Shrug yourself free of all their straps. You don’t make a sound; you’re being very careful.
Slowly, you make your way over to where Zayne’s lying on the sofa. You lower yourself to his level, reaching to pry his book from his fingers. His glasses are next: you ease them from his face like you’re handling a volatile protocore. Your breath is baited. Your hands almost shake, but you’re an expert at this sort of extraction: you’ve done it a hundred times before.
With your mission accomplished, you allow yourself one small reward. You want to see his face— all of his face— so you card your fingers through his fallen hair, smoothing it back into place. He looks like a dream: the kind you’re glad to carry through daylight, long after you wake. The kind you write down for fear of forgetting a single detail.
You want this, this, this. Every morning. For the rest of your life.
And maybe even the next life. Is that possible?
(You hope it’s possible.)
Standing softly, you smile again— a smile between you and the universe, the gods, and the night sky, in all its infinity. There are things you cannot know and even more things you cannot have, but you are more than content with your consolation prize. This:
One minute of peace, for you and your doctor.
You have a funny feeling this is more than you were ever meant to have.
When your minute is through, you watch as Zayne’s face changes, and he is no longer at peace. He frowns, his whole body suddenly tense. There’s a murmur of… pain? It sounds like pain— he winces like it’s pain. He doesn’t tell you where he goes, but you wish you could hold his hand and make a breakfast big enough to keep him from going there.
“Zayne,” you whisper, resting a warm palm on his cheek. A little louder: “Zayne.”
He stirs in his sleep as your voice brings him back to reality. He’s yours— yours— and the inevitable can have him later. Sure enough, his eyes flutter open, lost for a moment, but then? Home. Safe. With you.
“Hey,” you grin.
He squints against the daylight. “Hmm? Oh. What are you doing back so soon?”
You scoff. “Some doctor you are! I’m at death’s door— can’t you tell?” Your hand leaves his cheek, indicating your not-pallid skin, not-flushed cheeks, and not-sunken eyes with a wave. Then you find his hand, pressing his fingers to your forehead.
There’s a second of hesitation. “Ah,” he says warily, “yes, you’re… burning up.”
“Right?!”
Despite the severity of your condition, you find the strength to clamber on top of him. It’s anything but graceful, and he groans as you shift and fidget, taking your time getting comfortable. Eventually you settle, your head resting against his chest and his arms holding you close. You’re not tired, but you close your eyes, and this is so much better than patrolling for Wanderers.
He draws you higher so his chin can rest on the top of your head. “Greyson told you, didn’t he?” he ventures aloud, because he’s awake, now, so he’s connecting dots.
“Yeah,” you nod against him. “But if he asks, I said it was Yvonne, ok?”
There’s a hum of agreement, then he’s silent. Thinking again. “I’m sorry,” he finally speaks.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. It’s sweet that you worry. You don’t need to—”
“No,” he stops you. “I care about you a lot, and I’ll never apologise for that. What I am sorry for, however, is that a romantic gesture from me is so unusual that you feel you have to call my colleagues. I know I’m not always outwardly affectionate, but—”
“No.” It’s your turn now, and you twist, angling yourself so you can look up into his eyes. “You always make me feel loved, Zayne. Everything you do, everything you say… it’s for me, and no-one has ever cared about me like that. No-one has ever showed me they care like that.”
“Then why—”
“Because you get it, Zayne— the importance of what I do, because it’s what you do, even if it’s different. We’re both saving the world a little, right?”
“Right.”
You draw out his doctor’s note and shimmy it in front of his eyes. “So what the hell is this?”
He admits guilt with a chuckle, his hand moving to catch the evidence, but you’re one step ahead, stashing it back into the sanctity of your pocket. He issues a short hmph, defeated.
“Come on,” you prompt, escaping his arms. “Let’s not let all that food go to waste. You kept it, yeah? I’ve been dreaming about those chocolate-chip pancakes since I left.”
Zayne had been helping you up, but he slumps back as you finish your sentence. “Oh.”
“Oh?”
“Oh,” he confirms with the trademark nod of a doctor, and it can only mean one thing:
☾ .⭒˚ genre: smut, porn with some/little plot, porn with feelings
⋆.˚ ☾ word count: 3.6k
☾ .⭒˚ content warning: mdni, explicit sexual content, slight spoilers to ‘hidden motive’ (zayne’s misty invasion card), knee humping, titty sucking, titty sucking through clothes, titty nibbling (zayne is a boobie fiend), slight predator and prey, switch!zayne (he’s dom but kinda needy and vulnerable), use of Y/N, sub!reader, unprotected sex, cumming in panties, reader on top
⋆.˚ ☾ video link: not necessary to watch but is a link to all dubs for the memory this is based off of: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0SvtZ1EspWU
⋆.˚ ☾ a/n: haiiii guyssss i decided to upload the boys’ misty invasion fics one at a time! first up is baby zayne <3 his card inspired me so much, it was so intimate and passionate.
next up will probably be sylus, hopefully will post in maybe 3ish days! I haven’t watched raf’s or xav’s but i have ideas for them. I’m excited to write, i’m praying i don’t burn out…
hope you guys enjoy :) love ya’ll! also i am more active on twitter if you guys would like to follow me there, my link is in my masterpost!
⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚
Spontaneity was not something Zayne preferred to indulge in.
He had enough of it in his hectic surgery schedule, so in his personal life he tried to keep things as predictable as possible.
Yet he was graced with an absolute menace of a girlfriend, who, from the second she walked into his life, created chaos in her wake. Always running off on faraway Hunter missions, telling him only after she’d already left. Coming back injured, with a frustratingly adorable and sheepish smile, trying, and failing, to convince him she was fine.
God, you drove him utterly insane.
Which is why now, the normally composed, self-assured, and controlled, chief cardiac surgeon was unraveling at the seams beneath your seemingly innocent touch.
“Why does it smell sweeter than usual?” Zayne’s voice is raspy and breathless from the torrid and heated kiss the two of you had just been locked in. The razor blade and shaving cream had long since been discarded and forgotten.
Before you can respond, he’s pulling your wrist towards his reddened face, making you fall on top of him from your seat on his lap. You’re left straddling his one knee as you fall forward. Your wrist grips the leather recliner cushion by his head to catch you as he cups your lower back, just above your rear, pressing your body deeper into his.
He nuzzles his face into your wrist that's planted beside his head, absolutely enraptured by the scent of your lotion. The scent of you.
Taking another deef lung full of your pheromones mixed with your fruity lotion, his intense hazel eyes desperately seek yours, like he’s conveying his desires with the golden green orbs. You open your mouth to question his unusual behavior, but Zayne’s one step ahead of you. His knee raises to push your backside towards him, making you lose your grip completely and collapse completely atop him.
The recliner chair swings wildly at your combined movements, and you find yourself struggling to steady yourself. In your brief moment of helplessness, Zayne hoists you towards him, burying his face into your chest. His lips find your collarbone instantly, his knee nestled between your thighs to help balance you.
You gasp at his tongue lapping languidly at your fragrant skin, your fingers grasping his shoulders as he sucks at your sensitive collar, no doubt leaving a bruise. His lips dance dangerously close to where your silk camisole hangs off the swell of your breasts.
“Are you taking a break from work?” you ask between your raspy pants. Zayne continues to indulge in your skin, moving lower until his face meets your hardened nipples, separated only by a thin layer of silk. His tongue softly brushes against the soft material of your top, stroking at the swollen peaks through the smooth fabric. His knee grinds into your thighs, craving the warmth and dampness of his most favorite place.
He has to physically pry himself away from your chest, a dusting of deep peach painting his flustered face.
“Do I look like I can work right now?” His question is simple, but the aggressive demand that hides underneath them is urgent, nearly feral. You don’t get a chance to get another word out before he’s sinking back into the warmth of your chest.
This time, his lips close over your entire nipple through the soft silk of your sleeping cami, making you cry out in surprise. Your fingers grip his hair as he absolutely devours you through your top, the silk dampening with his saliva. His teeth come down to graze your sensitive peaks and you have to push him back before you lose yourself to the pleasure.
“...You don’t have to be so intense,” you urge him, despite the clear and inarguable fact that you want more. Clear from the way the panties you’d slept in start to dampen against his bare knee that peeks out from his robe.
Zayne looks unamused, almost sulky, as he mutters, “No working, and not allowed to do anything else…” He looks up at you, mischief briefly flashing across his eyes
He sits up, wrapping his strong arm around your shoulder and bringing you to him in an intimate embrace. You flail forward at his sudden movements, the rocking of the recliner chair making it impossible to find any balance. He takes the opportunity to drive his knee deeper into your core, making you moan lewdly. His chin rests on your bare shoulder, words hot and breathy against your pulsing neck, “Well then…my love, what exactly do you allow me to do?”
His actions make it difficult for you to speak, brain focussing solely on the pleasure he’s both giving you and keeping from you. At your wordless moans of excitement, Zayne continues.
“Will you allow me to do this?” he rocks his knee deeper into you, effectively humping you against his leg. Your nails dig into his muscled back at the unexpected ecstasy, his knee rubbing against your clit in the most sinfully perfect ways.
Zayne hisses at the feeling of the sting of your nails, only making him more desperate to take you right there on his living room chair, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
With his lips at your neck, he slowly and torturously pulls the flimsy straps of your loose top down, until your breasts are pressing against his exposed chest underneath his luxurious bathrobe.
His hands descend to hold your waist firmly, gently pulling you away from his chest so his hungry mouth can find your soft breasts again.
You throw your head backwards when his warm and wet mouth captures your bare skin into its embrace. Zayne is absolutely relentless, bouncing you filthily on his thigh as he absolutely devours your breasts. His teeth and tongue work in tandem to suckle pretty little bruises into the swell of your chest, and around your pert nipples.
Zayne looks up at you from underneath his eyelashes, heated irises drinking in your quivering form atop him. His erection pushes against the feeble restraints of his tied robe, creating a tent in his lap that twitches with anticipation. It brushes against your stomach as he grinds his knee into you, giving him just enough friction to need to bite into your breast to hold back his desperate moans.
You cling to him, trusting him to take all control of your body and of your pleasure. Your nails continue to draw angry red welts into his back, as you feel the familiar coiling of ecstasy in your gut.
You tap desperately on his shoulders, not wanting to make a mess in your panties that are already sticking to your wet folds.
“Z-Zayne, wait I —”
He brings his thumb to your lips, pressing softly against your parted lips, all the while his own lips never leave your aching tits. Against them, he mumbles, “Don’t deny me. Please.”
You’re briefly snapped out of the mind numbing pleasure of your quickly approaching orgasm at the sound of his plea, bordering on a feral demand. It’s so rare to hear him so unraveled and desperate, to hear him demanding things from you. A man who never asked anything of anyone, especially not of you, the one person he treasured more than life itself. It’s so rare and raw that you can’t help but want to give him everything he wants.
You bury your face into the top of his head, his addicting scent invading your senses, and you kiss him gently, “Never, I would never deny you.”
Zayne inhales sharply, groaning at your sweet words, ”Good girl.” He pulls you down fully on top of him again, the leather chair reclining until it’s nearly flat. Your ass is arched into the air, your face pressed into his chest, as his knee pushes into you with renewed vigor.
His lips find themselves sucking urgently at your nipples again, his knee moving faster, wanting to see his beautiful girl come undone all over his thighs. His tongue lathers tortuous circles around your hardened and swollen peaks, soothing the areas in which his teeth bite down softly.
“Let me see you, love. Please. I haven’t gotten to feel you since you ran off into danger without telling me, again.”
Your heart clenched as you realized that was where all this desperation and vulnerability was coming from. You want to apologize, but his unforgiving knee against your weeping cunt made it nearly impossible to get the syllables out.
“I-I’m – nnghh – m’sorry.”
His hand roughly grabs your chin, turning you to level with his smoldering hazel eyes. His voice is gruff and inquisitive, eyebrows raised in doubt, “Are you, sweetheart?”
You whine at his words, his actions only becoming more relentless, as if forcing the responses he wants out of you, “I am!”
The corner of his lips curl up, so faint you can barely see it. An arrogance Zayne so rarely lets show.
“Then show me. Show me how sorry you are.” With each demand, his leg drives harshly into your clit. You nod vigorously, eager to please him.
His darkened green eyes cling to yours, his voice deceptively calm and soothing, “Say it, love.”
You want to respond but the way he’s punctuating his every word with a hard intentional thrust of his knee into your aching cunt makes it impossible to do anything but moan lewdly into his ear, your head hanging down with your hair falling over your eyes.
He pinches your abused nipple, guiding your eyes back to his demanding hazel ones, the golden flecks glowing brightly as they savor the sight of you.
“I-I’m – unghh – s-sorry. Should’ve told you. I’ll be good, just-just let me cum f’you!” You bury your face into his neck, embarrassed by the words coming out of your mouth but unable to stop them all the same.
“Let me see you,” he grunts. When you lift your head, bleary eyes fixing on his, he smiles. It's faint but effervescently warm.
“That’s my girl. Now tell me, hm? How is my beautiful girl going to make it up to me?”
Your eyes fill with tears, overwhelmed by the pleasure his knee brings you, and the raw feelings that are masked behind his lewd words. His facade of filthy demands that hide the suffocating emotions, the same emotions he’d felt when he saw your name on the list of hunters dispatched to the wanderer quarantine zone. Emotions that he was now taking out on your ever-so responsive body.
“Anything you want Zayne, anything,” you gasp, your eyes locked into his as he continues to hump his knee into you,
His breath catches audibly at your words, pulling your chin towards him to capture your lips in a raw and passionate kiss, one that felt like it might stop time and space as you knew it.
At his intensely possessive lips, his throaty demands, his insistent knee wedged into your cunt, it isn’t long before you come undone all over his knee. You cum with a strangled cry, your fingers digging crescents into his muscled shoulders. Your eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of the filthy dampness against the fabric of your panties. Zayne groans at the angelic sight of your face contorted into pure pleasure, his erection painfully hard against his silken robe, pressed into your quivering belly. The heavenly vision of you cumming was almost enough to have him erupting right against your stomach.
“That’s it my love, just like that,” Zayne coos as you cum over his knee, still rocking gently into you as he helps you ride out the waves of your ecstasy. His slender fingers rub soothing circles into the small of your back, cooling your burning skin.
“So good, so good for me,” he murmurs into your hair, your head resting on his shoulders as the post-orgasm tremors come and go. His lips press into your scalp, the moment feeling absolutely and idyllically perfect.
You’re so blissed out you almost don’t feel him shifting beneath you, slender fingers pulling your soaked panties to the side. It isn’t until you feel the all-too familiar feeling of his fat leaking cockhead nestled between your folds, right at the entrance to your most sensitive parts, that your bleary eyes open.
You watch him, cock in his fist, swiping up and down your drenched lips, head hung down in pleasure as he watches the way your pussy quite literally invites him in. A thin layer of sweat glistens on his furrowed forehead, his restraint hanging on by a thread as he tries to calm himself before he burrows into you like an absolute animal.
You grab him by his chin, guiding him to look up at you. You take his throbbing manhood into your own fingers, in place of his. He stares at you heatedly, your languid actions driving him to the edge of insanity. Your body quivers as his cockhead catches on your clit, your body still reeling from the orgasm you’d just experienced on his knee.
Zayne’s hand encompasses yours, your joined palms holding his aching cock at the base. He repeats his plea from earlier, his voice raspy and breathless, “Show me.”
His desperation makes you bite your lip in anticipation, and you nod before sinking down onto his thick member. Your body grapples with the stretch as you slide further and further down, as Zayne writhes below you, panting rapidly and fingers digging into your waist.
“You’re so damn perfect,” he rasps, fingers bruising your hips with the intensity in which they grab you, “Give me more, please love.”
You grin at his rare pleas, teasing him by stopping halfway, not letting him enter you fully. His desperate moans and grunts make you giggle, and you relish in the way his large hands hold you so possessively, in the way only you are able to make him lose control.
Zayne chuckles darkly at your teasing antics, “You don’t sound very apologetic, sweetheart.” He raises his eyebrow at you, in a playful warning. You open your mouth to speak, but it’s cut off with a scream when he slams you down on his thick length, his strong grip pulling you down until your ass meets his thighs.
The impact of your thighs against Zayne’s lap is sinful. Zayne groans at the way he can feel the globes of your ass shake against him, your pussy clenching to accommodate the sudden stretch. And Zayne doesn’t even let you ride him, instead using the raw strength of his arms and thighs to bob you up and down his length, in a rhythm that had you seeing white.
“Nnghh – P-Please Zayne!” you plead, but for what you’re not even sure. You certainly don’t want him to stop or slow down. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, holding on while he bounces you like you weigh absolutely nothing.
Zayne grunts in response, too lost in the feeling of how your walls cling to him, how your body responds to his touch and thrusts like he owns you.
“Always — hah — throwing yourself — fuck! — into danger. Without telling me,” he grits out, his thrusts into you harsh and passionate all at the same time. You can tell by his tone that he’s more hurt than he is angry about you running off to the frontlines of a nearby wanderer quarantine. The deep timbre of his voice conveys more worry and vulnerability than it does domination and accusation.
Your heart flutters at how adorably pouty Zayne was being, in his own way. It was rare for him to act on his emotions like this, and it reminded you of how far the two of you had come. His hands gripped you forcibly, almost as if he was afraid you’d disappear on him again. His face buried into your chest, savoring your intoxicating scent like it was the air he needed to survive. The way your warm plush skin tasted on his tongue and felt against his canines.
So you let him throw you around like a fucktoy, letting him feel how absolutely and irrevocably his, you were. You held him tightly to your chest, kissing the shell of his ear as he rutted into you like a madman, suckling on your breasts like he thought you might lactate for him. The blend of possessive domination and raw neediness was driving you insane.
Zayne tears himself away from your chest, looking up at you with heated expectation, his eyes hazy with animalistic desire, “Nothing to say, Y/N?” He punctuates his question with a harsh thrust that prods against your g-spot, all the way to your cervix.
You gasp out, almost choking for air, “M’sorry Zayne. I-I’ll make it up t’y-you.” His fingers grip you tighter as he relentlessly bounces you on his lap, his fat cock bullying into your g spot. Your teeth dig into your lip as you feel your cunt trembling, close to release.
Zayne nestles his face into the area where your neck meets your collarbone, gasping out as you get increasingly tighter, until it feels like he’s suffocating with pleasure.
“Let me cum in you,” he growls, moving back to your chest, nipping at the swell of your breasts, lapping at a reddened bruise he’d unwittingly left there. Zayne normally wasn’t keen on these juvenile displays of affection, leaving hickeys like a horny highschooler. But something about the way you constantly threw yourself into the face of danger for others, left him uncharacteristically uncontrollable and unrestrained.
“Let me leave my mark in you so you know better than to go running off into danger without me again.”
A string of whimpers escapes your mouth at his possessive yet sensitive words, clearly still miffed at the memory of your injured state after saving the pair of young siblings in the quarantine zone. Your talented, self-controlled, god-like surgeon, falling apart at the seams, for you.
It’s all enough to have you at the cusp of another mind-bending orgasm, your eyes rolling up as you try to warn him, “Z-Zayne, c-close.”
Zayne chuckles as you warn him. How adorable you were to think he needed to be told, as if he didn’t know your body like the back of his hand. That he couldn’t feel the telltale way your pussy pulsed and quivered around his cock, so tightly it threatened to break him.
“Look at me, my love. I need to see you.” He rams up into you, hands possessively on your hips, bringing you down forcefully with each upward thrust. You focus your eyes on him, eyelids hooded with an exhausted pleasure.
Through your blurry vision, you can see that Zayne is close too. His jaw ticks dangerously, teeth grit to hold the swears back. His golden emerald eyes meet yours, and he smiles, his fingers threading into the back of your head.
“Just like that, look at me when you cum,” he demands, pulling your face forward to capture your lips in a final kiss that would have you tumbling down the cliff of ecstasy. His tongue demands entry, teasing the seam of your lips. His fingers cup your face, thumb stroking your cheekbone.
You moan into his mouth as your body succumbs to yet another orgasm, your fingernails scraping into his back. Zayne groans into you as the sting of your nails against his skin intensifies the pleasure of your pussy practically wringing his cock dry, forcing the orgasm out of him.
It’s a passionate and furious gnashing of tongue and skin, his thighs, wet with your release, pounding up into you. Your combined whimpers of pleasure mix with the wet smacks of your ass against his thighs, creating the most sinful blanket of lust-filled ecstasy in Zayne’s living room.
His seed erupts inside you, hot, plenty, and demanding. Demanding to be inside you. Demanding to claim you.
Zayne’s thrusts slow, but don’t stop, plugging you completely full of him. He finally pulls away from your lips, breathing heavily as goosebumps of overstimulation litter his skin. He keeps going until you tap his shoulders in surrender. He chuckles, lifting you easily off of him, removing himself from you.
Your thighs quiver as you remain seated on Zayne’s lap, his fingers rubbing delicate circles on your waist. His lips brush gentle kisses on your collar, savoring the moment of intimacy and adoration that falls over the two of you.
Zayne shifts so that he can look at you, cupping your chin gently in his fingers.
“How are you feeling Y/N?” His deep voice is filled with concern, eyes searching yours, “Was I too…enthusiastic?”
You giggle tiredly, your voice filled with playful teasing, “Maybe a bit. But I loved it. I love you.”
Zayne chuckles, bringing your face back down to rest on his chest, his bare skin peeking through the robe that had become untied amidst all the movement. He cradles your head against his body, his arms secure and protective against you, his lips pressing kisses into the top of your head.
“Can you blame me?” He presses his lips into the space below your ear, leaving a trail of kissing down your neck and along your shoulders.
“When you’re constantly worried about the woman you love…it can leave one a bit pent up.”
His lips on your singed skin has you shivering against him, your fingers trailing up and down his chest, “And are you still…pent up?”
The corner of Zayne’s lips quirk up, the blood rushing back south as he feels you writhe against his most fleeting touches. Always so responsive to his touch.
Zayne uses one hand to guide your chin up towards him, his smile hungry and affectionate all at the same time. His other hand holds yours, and you jolt off his chest when he wraps your fingers around something wet, hot, and hard.
Zayne cried on his first time with you. He didn't have anyone before you, so his body turned out to be ultra sensitive to physical contact, to the point he got overwhelmed not just by the feeling of finally having you in his arms – after so much effort on betraying a god and dealing with med school parts –, but also how you seem to know exactly where and how to touch him. It was too much. You could see crystalline tears running down his cheeks as he vainly tried to hide his face from you. You tried to stop your advances towards him out of worry, but Zayne prevented immediately, blurting out desperately a "please don't stop! I don't want you to stop, need it~ need more, I'm sorry...a-ah! Please!~"
You made sure to brush his tears off afterwards, pampering him, praising his vulnerability with you, making a safe space for him to express himself. You eventually discover later on that every now and then, when he spends a long time without having sex with you – like when he goes on a work trip – he would cry as he finally cums for you again. Such a sensitive man, right?
Preview: How the boys react to a Karen lashing out at you?
Warnings: Slightly longer read than usual, but you get to see how they talk smack to a Karen for disrespecting you :>
ZAYNE
You stood in line, awaiting for your turn to get into the popular restaurant that you and Zayne were planning to try out. Zayne had dropped you off in order to search for a parking spot, claiming that it is way more efficient for one to just wait in line. Right when it was about to be your turn, you stood up, smoothing your skirt and stepped up towards the reception table but someone had beat you to it, pushing you physically to get you out of their way, risking you nearly stumbling. "Hey." You reprimanded the lady in the big red coat, her head tilting towards you with a scrunched up frown on her face. "You can't just do that, you have to line up according to your turn."
The lady scoffed and simply waved her hand off, mocking you in a tone you had never heard from anyone in your life. "Apparently you do not know that this restaurant runs on a star rating don't you darling? First-comers like you should shut up and wait while VIPs like me deserve to be tended to first." You were in a state of disbelief, slack-jawed, fists tightened, ready to mutter a string of colourful curse words in front of this lady before a hand gripped onto your shoulders and you turned.
Zayne stood next to you, assessing the situation that he had spotted from afar as he was coming closer to the restaurant. "Are you alright?" He glanced down towards your legs, to spot for any injury but when he noticed nothing stood out, he rubbed your back as a comforting gesture before he stepped forth towards the woman. "Excuse me." He stated and the lady turned, with the same expression as the first time. "I believe you have to be in line. It wasn't right for you to push someone just to get in front of the line."
"You are not the restaurant owner, talk to me again and I will call the police." Her voice was up an octave now, clearly offended at the both of you calling her out on her mistakes. "This is a restaurant that runs on point systems! Do your research before coming onto me you brats!" Zayne seemed indifferent towards her, she is just like another patient of his that may be suffering a psychotic episode amidst treatment. It is no stranger to a doctor of his calliber.
"Scream much more, and you will get wrinkles on your face." Zayne drew air signs, marking out the spots on her face. His tone was collected, informative even. "Your lips are peeling and your skin is sagging on the edge of your jaw. If I were you, I would get myself checked out for any cardiac anomalies." His statement made the lady gasped in horror, hands immediately flying up to touch her cheeks. Zayne only took his phone out and showing her his medical ID. "Just some words of advice from a fellow cardiac surgeon. You should not delay any further, I think your heart requires immediate attention." He quirked an eyebrow and watched as the lady panicked, albeit judging him silently under her breath and stepping off to get back into her car (that was parked illegally by the street) to leave.
With the lady leaving, the both of you managed to secure your seats fairly quickly. Walking into the restaurant, you turned to ask Zayne about the diagnosis earlier on and he replied with a soft chuckle. "It works once you flash them the ID." He pulled out the chair for you as he always would, waiting for you to be seated before he continues, seating himself down. "No harm in fighting stupidity with stupidity."
RAFAYEL
"So, today we will be going to this beach that I had always been talking about. Are you excited?" Rafayel turned his head over to you when he is at a red light, smiling at you and taking your smaller hand into his. He placed a chaste kiss onto the back of your hand and proceeded to rev his engine when the lights turned green. The date had been planned for more than a week as Rafayel was busy with exhibitions and you too, with your own work. Hence, when the time comes for the both of you to meet, it is only natural for your boyfriend to plan for a romantic getaway.
Approaching the beach, you could taste the brine in the air when Rafayel had opened the roof on his convertible to let you get a better view of the ocean. The seas are mimicking the skies, one owning dashes of sparkles while the other has fluffy cotton balls hung on them, both adding up to be a picturesque scene. It was a right choice for Rafayel to make judging by how enamoured you are with the scene ahead of you. He revved into a driveway and parked right next a red sedan, alerting the lady next to them. "Who do you think you are?" She immediately questioning, sunglasses pushed up onto the top of her head when she squinted her eyes to get a better view of the both of you. "You are going to hit my car!"
Rafayel nonchalantly got out of the car, hands thrown up in an act of surrender. "Lady, calm down. We mean no harm." He then sauntered over to your side to open your side of the door, holding his hand out for you to take, all while still trying to hold a reasonable conversation with the lady who had not stopped accusing him of wanting to hit her car. "As I've said lady, I do not have the wish to hurt anyone. I apologise if my skills scared you." Due to his indifference, it only got the Karen riled up, stomping out of her car and coming right up to both of you. Rafayel instinctively shielded you, his height still towered over the woman.
"THIS IS MY BEACH AND YOU DO NOT HAVE THE RIGHT TO TRESSPASS, YOU HEAR ME YOUNG MAN?!" She angrily pointed a finger at him, her bikini suggested she is here for the beach as well.
"So it is either you both get the hell out of here, or I am calling the cops." Grabbing her phone out of her small clutch, she begin dialing the number on it and pressing it to her ear. You looked towards Rafayel with a worried expression, but he only held a smirk as he listened in on her conversation. "Yes! This man with a convertible is trying to kill me in a crash--yeah, okay you talk to him!"
Then she handed her phone over to Rafayel, which he took into his hands and pressed it against his ear. For a man who seemingly 'broke-the-law', Rafayel is not taunted. "Hey there, yeah. Yeah that's me. Yeah, she is claiming that this beach belongs to her." His eyes glinted a hint of playfulness, smile widening at the Karen. "Can I report this for tresspassing or...okay, yeah, I'll call you back if she starts anything on MY BEACH." Specifically emphasising his words, the woman choked onto her breath, looking at Rafayel as he gave her back her phone and tilting his head, still smiling. "A word of advice, next time, if you're gonna play with fire, just be ready to get burned, yeah?"
SYLUS
Sylus would rather be surrounded by thousands of the strongest wanderers now than to be in the grocery store with you right now. This burly, manly man does not see himself to be a fitting piece of a puzzle within a grocery store. Everywhere his eyes darted, he catches sight of men with beer bellies pushing carts with babies while referring to a long, floor-panning grocery list, or a mother who has too many children to provide welfare for, or maybe a family where most of the time the wife is the ruler of the house. No, Sylus is not a sexist, he just holds too much of an ego for his masculinity that he feels like he does not belong in a grocery store. Staring down at you, he sighed inwardly. Regardless of what he had thought of, what he held as a belief, here he is still, nothing different than those wife-pleasers he witnessed littered all over the store.
“How long are we going to be here for?” He groaned, holding up the basket slightly higher when you had gotten your pick of the better watermelon. “N109 does not run by itself given its current glory you know.” His mockery only got you rolling your eyes at him. You would admit, he is a scary man for the eyes, but once you had gotten to know him, gosh, this man would bow to puppy eyes and wheedling words. Feeling your throat getting scratchy again, you pointed at the vitamin water that was placed in the basket and Sylus cracked open the cap then handed it to you. You gulped the drink down your throat, trying to gain moisture to rid it of the scratchy feeling before you felt someone tapped on your shoulder and you turned around.
The lady who tapped your shoulder was skinny, body the shape of a trunk and with hair so blossoming that Sylus may have outwardly mocked her to be a tree. But the man does watch his mouth whenever he is around you. “Young lady, you can’t drink from the bottle like that without paying for it! That is called stealing!” Her loud exclamation got some people turning their heads and you could feel the embarrassment crawling up your back. You fumbled with the cap and was about to say sorry before your boyfriend took up the space next to you, his 6”2’ height made the woman looked like a garden gnome, with weird tree-like hair.
“Why can’t she? She is paying for it afterall.” The corners of his lips curled up, but it resembled an amused smirk rather than a smile as he watched the lady below him started to act out. If he were to be alone right now, there is no doubt that this woman would perish before she could utter another word. But, as what he had always believed in, violence is only to be utilised strategically. And using it on this lady, in front of you, in a public area, would result in serious consequences, so he decided not to. But, this does not mean he would back down either.
“You are supposed to buy things before you consume them. Don’t you know how the law works?” The lady was clearly pissed, voice raising even higher to create a scene. “I am going to call the store manager on you to get you and your girlfriend reported for stealing!” At this rate, she would only cause more trouble than necessary. Sylus simply clicked his tongue with a ‘tch’ and he tilted his head slightly, his right eye taking colour of a bright scarlet. Then, you watch as the woman in front of you tripped over nothing and she fell face-first. You gasped, wanting to go forward to help her but an unseeable force held you back and it got you figuring out the cause of her trip. Sylus was using his energy manipulation skills to get her to practically trip on air.
“Let’s go.” Without wasting anymore time, he grabbed onto your hand, his smirk widening as he lead you to walk through the aisles to get to the counter to check out your items. When he was confronted with why he did that, the confident man simply quirked up one of his thick eyebrow and retaliated. “You think I would back down easily if anyone comes at you like that princess? I would downplay the act of punishment for your sake, but I won't stay idle like a trophy husband sweetie.”
XAVIER
Xavier had came up with the idea to bring you along for some clothes shopping for the upcoming team building event which involves a masquerade ball. A couple of days ago, he had to sit through hours of you sifting through your closet, looking for any gowns that could be reused for the second time until you reached the realisation that you do not own a gown because 1) it’s not practical and 2) it’s a huge waste of money and 3) it does not fit your usual aesthetic for clothings.
"How about this one?" Xavier asked when he pointed at a store with ball gowns being displayed at their windows. Observing your hesitation to step into the store, he grabbed onto your hand and started leading you towards it. The pull was a bit of a drag however as you were stumping your feet onto the ground from wanting to enter such a boujee store. God knows how much those dresses would cost. "It's alright y/n, I will pay for it okay? You don't have to fret about a gown for days. Come on."
After getting assisted by the salesperson, you had managed to pick out a few outfits and you slotted yourself into one of the fitting booths to try them on. At the meantime, Xavier sat on the bench outside, scrolling through his phone mindlessly while he waited for you. He noticed a shadow loomed over him and he looked up, seeing a lady in her mid-40s looking down at him. "Is someone in the fitting booth?" Xavier nodded his head in return, stating that his girlfriend is inside. "Can you ask her to hurry up a little? I am pressed for time and I need to try on this outfit."
"Guess you will have to wait till she is done. She is only at her first dress." Xavier spoke calmly, already sensing discomfort from the way the lady had spoken to him. The curtain to the fitting booth then slid opened and you stepped out, adorning a blue sequin dress that matches the shade of Xavier's irises and he smiled in return, standing up and blatantly ignoring the lady as he walked up to you, gesturing his finger for you to turn and to show him the full outfit.
It was a sweet moment until you were interrupted. "Can you hurry up missy? I am in a rush and I need to try this on." She held up a dress in her hand, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "FYI, this dress does not fit you, you look fat in it." Your eyes were widened immediately when the lady mocked you. When you turned to Xavier, he too, bear the same expression as you but he was quick to recover.
"I don't think that is a nice thing to say when you should be the one to look at yourself in the mirror." His jab at the lady made her face immediately turned red, all adrenaline rushing towards her head. Xavier crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head while sighing. "I guess there is no need for you to try on that dress of yours, because I'm pretty sure it won't fit you."
And the next thing you know, the lady was rambling, shouting towards the employees for being mistreated but here you stood, next to Xavier, who is not one bit phased by her behaviour. Your boyfriend only watches the show unfold in front of him, and pats the top of your head, smiling at you. “She started it first, I figured if it wasn’t for her, I would have fell asleep waiting for you to be done with your fittings.” And you gave him a hard punch against his shoulder.
❧ Zayne is the type of person who would hate PDA in public but if he sees another guy flirting with you he will walk up behind you to kiss your check to show that your taken.❣
❧Zayne is one of those guys that is barley home because of work but he will call you and face time you a lot more whenever he's free.❣
❧We all know he barley takes days off, but since he started to date you, he has taken more days off then normal just to hang out with you and to chill.❣
❧He loves to have coffee dates with you whenever he can, especially at that cafe you love.❣
❧He loves to surprise you with small gifts frequently because he loves to see your pretty smile as he said in his words.❣
❧He loves to take care of you in any way he can for you.❣
❧Zayne sets up an extra alarm every day before he gets up to work so he can cuddle with you before he leaves even if you are asleep.❣
❧On the days he can't spend his lunch with you he buys you lunch and makes his assistant drive to you to give it to you.❣
❧We all know he is a gentle boi but when you make him mad, he ignores you for an hour exact (he can't spend much time away from you or he feels bad).❣
❧When he has to stay overnight in the hospital he tries to call you before you go to bed or he just sleeps on call with you.❣
~SEXUAL CONTENT MDNIII!!~
NSFW!
❧ Zayne is a brat tamer 100% so whenever you're acting up and go against him or talk back to him, he will make you bend over his knee and spank you 15 times or more until you use a safe word.❣
❧He loves to leave a small vibrator in your pussy and tease you with the settings and watch you squirm as you try to hide you sounds when the both of you go out to dinner or lunch.❣
❧He loves when you deepthroat his dick, he loves how you let him take control and fuck your face fast or slow he can't choose.❣
❧He loves your mouth it doesn't matter if you're sucking his dick or having a sensual make out session with him he just loves how your soft or rough lips feel against him.❣
❧Zayne LOVES!! your sounds so he hates whenever you try to cover your sounds from him that will just result in a punishment from him.
❧He loves to tie you up to the bed post for he can admire you slowly while he has complete control over you.❣
❧He loves to practice shibari with you, he loves the red rope against your skin he thinks it makes you more beautiful he loves to take pictures of you tied up so pretty for him.❣
❧When Zayne has to stay in the hospital overnight in his office, he loves to call you sometimes to tease you over the phone and make you play with yourself with your camara on so he can see.❣
❧He loves when you send him nudes but is easily embarrassed when you send him nudes when he's in front of people he later punishes you for acting out in front of people.❣
❧Whenever he is fucking you missionary or doggystyle , he loves to put his hand on your neck and squeeze lightly he loves your reaction to him doing that.❣
❧He loves whenever you ride him, he loves having control in the bedroom but once in a while he's too tired, so he wants you in control for once.❣
❧He definitely has a breeding kink 100%.❣
❧Zayne loves to finish inside of you, he loves how you tighten up around his dick as you both come together, and he loves the thrill of you getting pregnant.❣
❧He is rough whenever he's mad at you or someone else but the aftercare after is just top tier, he will give you cuddles, kissed, and snacks you need or drinks and he will run a bath with your bubbles you love.❣
❧He loves to make you cum with long his fingers or tongue 2 or 3 times before he fucks you, he loves how sensitive you can get.❣
❧After two rounds of him fucking you he forces one more orgasm from you before he's done with you.❣
❧Something the both of you love is when he plays with his Evol in bed, Zayne loves to make ice cubes and drag them down your hot skin slowly or press the ice cube against your clit while he fingers you open for him.❣
OK THAT CONCLUDES ZAYNES HEADCANNONS I did kinda rush it so it's kinda all over the place but hopefully its good!!♡
Here it is. The sex pollen fic. I forget who posted about this, but whoever it was, here you go.
I’m currently in the middle of the woods when I get a notification on my hunters watch that there is a wanderer attack nearby. I follow the coordinates through the underbrush, ducking under branches and avoiding rocks, and when I emerge, I’m in… Zayne’s backyard?
Well, sort of, the entire thing is enclosed in a high fence, but the location ping on my watch tells me that the wanderer is still ahead of me. I don't actually know if he’s home right now, but the fact that as I walk around the perimeter, it seems to be pinging from inside gets me worried fast. From inside, I can definitely hear some kind of commotion going on. But why would Heartbreaker attack a house randomly like this…? No, it wouldn’t just show up to destroy property, I decide, Zayne must be inside.
At that moment I hear the distinct and familiar sound of Zayne’s ice spikes crackling and lodging themselves in something, possibly the wall. Luckily, only a few weeks ago, Zayne gave me the code to his front door, deciding it was “only fair” because I’d given him my apartment key. You know, just in case of “emergencies”. No other reason.
This is the first time I’ve used it though, and for a moment I’m not sure I can remember it. Was it 4102? No… 4210? No… Shit! 0412? Yes! The lock on the door blinks green and I push it open before pausing for a second, realizing something I hadn’t before.
0412? That’s… My birthday.
I blink and shake my head a little. Not important right now!
The sounds are coming from the living room, up ahead, and I think I even catch a glimpse of the little pink and purple wanderer. I can definitely hear it screeching, then from through the doorway, I see another ice spike whiz past. Heartbreaker cries, there’s the sound of something breaking, and then a heaving gasp that sounds distinctly like Zayne, before a series of hacking coughs.
When I skid to a stop in the room, Heartbreaker is gone, and with a brief glance at my watch, I see that the metaflux has dissipated. Which means that Zayne took it down. At least for now. Another glance around the room, and Zayne is leaning against an armchair with one hand, while his elbow covers his mouth. He’s still coughing.
“Are you okay?!” I ask, trying not to sound panicked as he doubles over, now holding himself up by his elbow on the armchair. In just a few long strides, I’m at his side, hands hovering over his back, trying to assess what might be wrong. The first thing I notice is that he’s breathing hard and he’s flushed, though maybe that’s just the exertion from fighting. What I expect to see is maybe a bit of frost on his fingertips or creeping up his neck, but instead, when I place my hand tentatively on the small of his back, I realize he’s burning up. Also… The moment my fingers make contact with his body, he moans. I jerk back almost on instinct, my brow furrowing in confusion. Is he injured there?
Zayne rolls his head to the side, and I can see better how he looks, red and panting. “I’m,” cough, “fine… You certainly acted quickly.”
He doesn’t look fine. His pupils are blown, and he has a hazy look in his eyes. My concern grows.
I blink at him. “Did you just…”
He looks away, blushing brighter, “... Yes, I believe so.”
“I think you should sit down.” I touch his shoulder and arm to guide him, trying to get him to walk around the chair to sit down, but that touch too has a shiver going through his whole body before he tenses up, though he doesn’t try to stop me from guiding him into the seat.
“Are you in pain?”
“No, I… No, not pain.” He gets out after a second, his expression pinched, almost frustrated, and he seems to be trying to avoid looking at me, keeping his gaze settled firmly on the ground and away from me as he clasps both hands in his lap. Maybe I’m imagining things, but I think I can see a bulge in his pants where his legs press together.
“Let me get you some water.”
“Yes… Water.” He’s distracted.
When I return with a glass of water, his condition has already deteriorated drastically. He’s almost panting, one hand gripping the arm of the couch, the other in a fist on his thigh. He’s burning up when I get close, and he seems to have attempted to adjust himself in his pants in my absence. I feel a brief flash of anger go through me, just knowing that he’s in a state like this, and he’s arrogant enough to think he can get away without me noticing.
I set the glass down, concerned, and drop to my knees in front of him, taking a hold of the hand on his leg. His eyes drift closed, and he moans softly. My voice is quiet, but firm.
“Zayne, what did it attack you with?”
His face pinches more, and he swallows. “An aphrodisiac of some kind, I would assume, based on my symptoms. You… You should go. I’ll be fine. It’ll wear off.”
“You’re an idiot if you think I’m just going to leave you here. Do you have any idea what will happen to you if this is left to work its way through your system?”
He does. He’s seen patients exhibiting these same symptoms before, on rare occasions. In a hospital setting, there’s not much to do for them except keep their body temperature down and make sure they’re hydrated. From what he’s seen, detoxifying this particular poison is excruciatingly painful, regardless of the drug they're given to ease it. He should drink that water.
“Yes.”
“Well so do I, so no, you’re not going to make me go anywhere right now.” I lean over him, hands on his thighs, and he suddenly looks up into my eyes, so needy, and whimpers. “You’d do the same thing if I was in your position, right?”
After a second, a short nod, though it looks like it pains him. “I would.”
“Then stop being a hypocrite.”
His eyes get a little wider as he looks up at me, “But what if I can’t co–”
“Don’t start that again.” I shoot him a look, and sigh at the worry on his face. My hand strokes his cheek and hair for a second, and it seems that’s all he really needs as he deflates a little, leaning into my palm and letting out a soft little grunt from the back of his throat.
I reach forward between his legs, and they seem to part for me almost instinctively. When my hands cups him through his trousers, his head falls back, and his hips rise up to meet me. The sound he makes as I squeeze down on him is a soft, high pitched moan. He’s still gripping the armrest with one hand, and I swear his knuckles are turning white already.
“Please… I need…” Already Zayne sounds a little wrecked, his voice low and desperate. The heat of his cock is heavy in my hand, and I squeeze down a little harder one more time, pulling another groan from him before I let go.
“I know what you need.” I reassure him, and start to work on my clothes. My hunter’s uniform is a little complicated to get off, but the good news is that I’ve had a lot of practice. First the belts, then vest, boots, and in only a few seconds I’m shucking off the tight pants, leaving me only in my white button down. When I look up, I realize that Zayne has been drinking in the sight of me undressing the entire time, and one of his hands has now taken place of my own, where he seems to be gripping himself pretty damn tightly, enough that the veins and tendons on his hand have become more prominent than usual.
As I take a step closer to him, he reaches out, grabbing hold of me to touch me everywhere, and all pretense is lost to him. Squeezing at my ass, my hips, my thighs, everywhere he can reach until he has a strong enough grip to rut me against him. His head falls onto my shoulder, and he’s whining, wordless.
I let him do that for a minute or two, locked against him in his strong arms while his hips move beneath me, and then I grab his arm to make him stop. Even though he could easily overpower me, he ceases desperately grinding himself on me, and looks up with wide eyes, blown out by his lust, like a puppy begging for food. Or maybe like he’s afraid he’s done something wrong, and is about to receive a scolding. I brace one arm on his chest, and with the other move back on his lap. He watches, rapt as I undo his pants and pull out his cock. It’s already leaking, red, and throbbing in my grip.
The first touch has him swearing quietly, hips moving into my hand. I squeeze down on the tip as I stroke upwards, and he lets out a broken sound, his body arching for a second. So I do it again, and again, watching him as his head rolls to the side, and he seems incapable of closing his mouth.
“Too hot…” He chokes out. And he is sweating, almost through his shirt already. Were he alone, I think, this is the point by now where he would have attempted to get himself into a cold shower.
“Let me help you then.”
I start undressing him, and it seems like every brush against him, clothed or not has him reacting, letting out little whines and moans, and he’s almost trembling with the effort to contain himself. Sometimes it even sounds like he’s trying to speak, but every plea comes out half formed.
I offer encouragement to him until he’s completely bare, and help him stand so I can lay him down on the couch. I press my full weight on top of him. He’s about to lose his mind, his neck and back arching underneath me, hands tight on my waist.
“Hey,” I murmur against his throat, and he moans. He’s so hard that I can feel a wet sticky mess starting to form between us, “you still with me?” I ask him, against his lips, barely brushing against them with my own. Zayne just groans and captures my mouth in a bruising kiss, letting go of my hips to hold me by the back of neck to him. His tongue probes at my bottom lip, and he’s moaning so softly and so desperately that I feel a surge of heat between my legs. I open my mouth to him, and he moans louder, his tongue invading me the moment he’s given permission, licking into my mouth, like he’s trying to taste and memorize every part of it.
When he finally lets me go, he’s gasping, and his lips are now swollen, pink, and shiny with our shared spit.
It’s frankly, an amazing look on him.
“I’m here…” He pants, his voice hoarse as his dazed expression meets mine. I’ve never seen him like this before, it’s like he’s almost drunk on sex, and we haven’t even had it yet. “Just… Need you… Please…” Zayne begs, quiet and small, and he speaks slowly, like he’s unsure how to properly voice his own desires. For just a second, I’m overwhelmed by just how… cute he is. It’s my turn to swear under my breath, and I can’t help pulling him into another kiss, which he accepts gratefully.
I reach my hand between us, rising up on my hips and scooting forward to position myself over him. When I grab his cock he seems to finally realize what I’m doing, and for a second I’m worried he’s forgotten how to breathe, with the way he suddenly goes almost entirely still. His erection is slick already, and I use the mess of cum he’s made on himself to stroke him a few times, until his cock is coated in his own seed. Zayne’s head arches back against the cushion of the couch, and the leg he has braced on the floor moves inwards, jostling me a little as I press the tip of his cock against me. I rub it against me a few times, looking down at the debauched mess of himself that Zayne has already become, and fuck if I don’t feel myself almost gush between my legs.
“Please don’t tease me.” He sounds almost broken, begging as he tries to arch up into my cunt, whining when I place a hand on his hip to keep him still.
“I’m not, I promise.” I try to reassure him by rubbing my thumb against his skin, where I’ve braced myself on his chest. Then, I get his cock to catch on the rim of my entrance, and sink down all in one go. It nearly takes the breath out of my lungs, the sudden fullness and heat of him inside me, and I let out a few soft gasps.
“Oh, fuck…” Zayne whimpers beneath me, his voice high and thready. His hands twitch for a fraction of a second, and then he grabs at my waist, like he needs something to just ground him. I start to move, slowly at first, and watch his face screw up almost like he’s in pain, but I think really he’s just trying to stay still. My breath comes out heavier as I brace both hands on his chest and move on him faster, rolling my hips atop his own.
And God, it feels so good that I start to get lost in it myself a little, chasing my own pleasure with his cock, and when I look down at him I see him watching me, his mouth open, and he’s making the cutest little sounds with every movement, growing faster with each passing moment, and then I see it. I don’t stop riding him while I watch his back arch, his eyes close, and his body start to twitch and tremble while I feel him pulsing inside of me. He’s almost silent during his orgasm, only gasping softly, as if he doesn’t have the breath to make another sound.
I don’t cum yet, but I can feel myself clenching down around him at the sight of him coming undone. His hair is messy, his cheeks and ears bright red, and his chest is heaving underneath my palms. He looks completely fucked out, boneless, and like he’s barely aware of his surroundings.
My hips keep grinding down onto his cock that hasn’t started to soften yet, and I try to angle myself so that I can fuck down almost onto his public bone, because I know if I can get my clit just a little bit of– “Oh god!” I choke out, and start to ride him hard and fast as I feel my orgasm start to wash over me, and I feel how wet it’s getting between us, the squelch getting louder and louder while I work my way through it.
In the haze, I dimly become aware of Zayne’s hands now taking a bruising grip on my hips, and the pained groans and whines that start to come from him while I use his overstimulated cock.
“Oh fuck, oh, mmm, wait, I can’t–” He starts to protest, but during the fall of my orgasm, I feel him start to cum again, in a matter of seconds. This time he is not so quiet. Instead he keens, and inside of me his cock jumps wildly, spurting into me over and over, and as Zayne gasps and shudders through it, for a second I think both of us are wondering if it’ll ever end.
As it ebbs away, he makes a little sobbing sound, and while I catch my own breath, I feel that he’s still holding tight to my hips. I lean heavily over him, tightening around his cock a few times as I feel it start to soften inside of me, and hear Zayne’s small, almost pained grunt.
There’s a long silence, neither of us speaking or looking at each other until I feel his cock slip out of me, flopping back down between his own legs, and then I raise up to look at him. I wonder if I look as disheveled as he does. Not that it matters, because he’s looking up at me and his eyes are almost sparkling.
I clear my throat, “Better?”
Zayne huffs a chuckle, and instead looks at his hands as they start to move up and down my thighs, his voice still hoarse, “Yes, much… But I’m afraid I might need a follow up appointment, doctor.”
I roll my eyes, and crawl back over him to steal another short kiss. I don’t miss the way he tries to follow my lips for a second. “Well, then I guess we’ll just have to schedule one.”
Not everyone experienced it, but most powerful evolvers have.
And unlucky for you; your evol was quite strong.
You knew this. The Hunters Association knew this. Zayne knew especially well, as to the effects it had on your body.
But nobody knew exactly what your backlash was. People always tried to guess, but to no avail.
Heightened body temperature? No.
Extreme fatigue? No.
Madness, even? Well… not quite.
Your backlash was as unique and strong as you.
Many people faced minor symptoms thiat only impaired them for hours at most.
Yours lasted for at least a day. At most two.
Your backlash made you feel as though the most potent aphrodisiac had been dropped into your body.
It was… beyond embarrassing.
You preferred not to take more than a day off at a time, saving most of your vacation time for Zayne.
So you’d mastered the art of hiding it.
Or so you thought.
You find yourself laying in bed after your strange behavior post mission had been noticed by Tara.
After much poking and prodding at what was wrong with you, she alerted Jenna of your odd symptoms.
After a brief inspection, Jenna sent you home on sick leave and told you not to come in the next day either.
“What a pain,” you thought fleetingly. “I hope they don’t think I’m weird.”
You turn over on your side and groan.
It was like you were burning up. You felt hot and sticky… and there was this ache you couldn’t seem to get rid of.
Sure you could handle your arousal yourself, but that never satisfied you. For long, anyways.
Just as you were about to throw in the towel, a knock on your door interrupted your thoughts.
No… oh no…
It was 5PM on a Thursday… it could only be one person.
You hastily get out of bed, haphazardly throw on your glasses, and speed walk to your front door.
Standing on your tippy toes, you look out the peephole.
FUCK IT WAS ZAYNE
You quickly turn around and put your back against the door, leaning against it in your shock.
“Fuck!” You exclaimed a little too loud.
“I knew you were home,” his voice sounded from the other side of the door. “Let me in.”
“Uhhh no I’m not home. Leave a message okay bye-”
“Stop with your games and just open the door. Your coworkers contacted me and said you were sick. I just want to check on you.”
The concern in his deep, monotonous voice made your resolve crumble.
Exhaling before fixing your hair and pushing up your glasses, you open the door.
His piercing green eyes bore into yours, making your knees go a little weak.
He’s so handsome…
You shook those thoughts from your head.
It seems he came right from the hospital. He was still wearing his white button up, black slacks, and his glasses.
“Thanks for the concern, but really Zayne I’m fine.”
Ignoring your blatant lie, he gently put a hand on your forehead.
“You’re burning up,” he frowns. “Go back inside.”
Not particularly having the energy to argue, you trudge back to your room and flop down on your bed.
You had the impression that Zayne was right behind you, but it seemed like he had gone elsewhere in the house.
Moments later, he emerged from wherever the fuck he’d gone with a glass of water and two pills.
Zayne sat down on the edge of your bed and handed both items to you.
“Here, take these.”
You hastily do as he says, wanting to get him in and out as quick as possible while you were in this state.
It’s not that you didn’t want to see him; you didn’t want him to see you like this.
“Finished. You must be super busy so I don’t wanna keep you long. Why don’t you-”
“Aren’t you going to tell me what’s wrong first? I’m your primary care physician.”
Damn him and his… sweet and caring concern.
You heart swelled, but once again you groaned and turned away from him on your side.
You had two options right now.
Option one: be honest and tell him everything. He wouldn’t judge you… probably…
Option two: play into being sick and evade any and all questions until he left.
You turned your head to look back at him, and his concerned gaze looked back at you.
Zayne was your best friend. He wouldn’t do anything to harm you. Or say anything to hurt you.
He only ever wanted the best for you. And tried his best to take care of you and make you happy.
And you loved him. And you were pretty sure he loved you.
You decided to just be honest. He is your doctor after all… maybe he could help you.
“Zayne do you experience backlash symptoms after using your evol?”
He nods. “My body temperature drops dangerously low.”
You sighed. You fucking wish you had his backlash.
“Why? Are you experiencing backlash right now?”
Now it was your turn to nod.
“My backlash isn’t temperature irregularities or fatigue or nausea,” you turned over again. You didn’t wanna look him the eyes for this one. “It’s a little- well a lot different. Very different.”
There was a pause before Zayne’s response.
“Go on.” He tone seemed skeptical.
“It’s arousal.” You mumbled quickly, gripping the sheets and squeezing your eyes shut.
“Pardon?” Zayne either didn’t hear you at all, or seemed not to hear you correctly.
“It’s…” you sighed again, tears brimming from the sheer embarrassment of your confession. “Arousal. My backlash is arousal. And I can’t control it.”
Another pause.
“I see.” He said solemnly. You felt him move on the bed, and assumed he was doing that stupid ass thing where he puts his hand on his chin.
His reaction, or lack thereof, was the nail in the coffin for you.
You started to snuffle as tears ran down your face.
Zayne was immediately startled by this.
“Are you crying?”
“No, you idiot.” You clearly weren’t a good liar. Why do you keep trying?
Zayne sighs before you feel him move once again, and suddenly he’s hugging you from behind.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” his voice took on a much softer tone now that he sees your upset. “There are many different types of backlashes. Some more extreme than others.”
You leaned in to his hug, finding comfort in his calm voice and cool body.
“I was so afraid you were going to judge me.” You looked over your shoulder at him, glasses clinking against each others.
“I would never.”
You both seemed relieved as you say in silence. Hugging each other as you calmed down.
As comforting as Zayne’s hold was, it was doing nothing for your backlash.
You shifted in his hold.
Alright, now you couldn’t take it anymore.
“Zayne, please,” you pleaded, looking back at him one again and peering up at him from the top of your glasses, “I can’t take it anymore.”
Another pause… a longer one this time.
Usually Zayne doesn’t take that long to think. He must really be plotting this time.
Suddenly, you feel his ice cold hands running all over your body.
You just barely stifled the moan that threatened to leave your lips.
“Zayne…” You whimper his name, and you heard his breathing pick up.
“Do you want my help?”
You felt like you just had cold water dumped all over you.
“W… what?” Surely he was fucking around.
“Do you want my help, Y/N?”
Him saying your name sent shivers down your spine.
“You don’t have to.”
“But I want to.” While his gaze once held concern, now held something else.
Something new in him you’d never seen before.
“Zayne… are you sure?” This time you fully turn around to face him.
This time he doesn’t respond. He just wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you on top of him.
You squeal as he positions you so that you’re straddling him.
And then… you feel it.
Your eyes widen and you look down.
His dick straining against his pants. Right under you.
It was deliciously hard against you, and you could feel the warmth through the layers you both have on.
“Does that answer your question?”
Now you really couldn’t hold back.
You quickly bent down to catch his lips in a desperate kiss.
It was nasty and sloppy. All tongue and lips… something you’d never expect from him.
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you bring him to sit up with you.
Instinctively he grabbed your waist, dragging his hands down your back and ass as he fervently kissed you back.
Once again feeling his cold hands on you, you moaned freely at his touch.
Grabbing your hips, he pulled them forward, causing you to grind down on his erection.
This caused you to break the kiss with a pleasured sob.
“Oh my god, Zayne-!” He was hitting just the right spot.
This was enough motivation for him apparently, so he kept going.
Gripping his shoulders for dear life, you kept dragging your cunt against that one spot that sent waves through your body, as Zayne kissed down your neck.
It was all becoming too much… Zayne sucking that sweet spot on your neck and his cock grinding against your clit so deliciously.
“Wait,” you pushed him away weakly. “Zayne wait…”
He immediately halted his actions.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m gonna cum like this,” you gripped his shoulders again as you looked away. “I wanna do… other things too.”
Zayne chuckles, something he rarely does, before leaning back to loosen his tie.
You shifted in his lap again at the sight, making his exhale sharply.
“What do you want to do?” He looks up at you, the ghost of a smile on his face.
Shit. You didn’t think you’d get this far.
“I… don’t know.” You bashfully admit. You don’t dare meet his gaze.
You feel him grip your chin and turn your head towards his and forces you to look into his eyes.
He made you so nervous.
“I can take the lead if you want. Just let me take care of you.” Zayne’s soft tone of voice almost puts you at ease.
But how could you truly relax when you were literally sitting on his hard dick?
You close your eyes and take a deep breath.
“Okay,” you nod, finally looking right at him. “I trust you.”
Zayne smiles fully this time, before running his thumb over your bottom lip.
zayne's whispered words don't fall on deaf ears, you're not actually asleep. though your eyes were screwed shut and you hadn't moved in a good six minutes, you were wide awake. but he didn't need to know that.
"how lucky i am..." he continues, voice so soft you almost can't hear it. "to be able to find you over and over again. i love you."
his hands trace over your face, ice cold fingers meaninglessly draw patterns on your cheeks and his thumb relaxes over your lips. a thought crosses your mind, if he wasn't afraid of waking you up, you can imagine he'd continue letting his hands roam endlessly. was he trying to plant every inch of you in his mind? to remember until time itself ends?
"i want to be selfish and stay here forever." zayne loves you so much, he wonders if he can say the words endlessly to let them stay in your mind for as long as possible. if given the chance, would you replace him with someone else? he wants to repeat these words until you can't fathom being with away from him. he loves you so much, the selfish desire dies before it can reach his lips. he would still love you if you chose someone else.
but doesn't he know? you've already long forgotten anyone besides him.
"i love you."
his hands stop tracing your face, instead remaining stagnant against your cheek so he can kiss your forehead. his lips are as cold as his hands.
"i love you too." you whisper back, opening one eye to see how red his cheeks get.
Zayne takes you home after an argument between the two of you.
ಇ. Zayne x Reader/MC
ಇ. Tags & warnings: since there's a bit spicy at the end I shall put 16+, MDNI here, fluff, short and sweet, kiss and make up, making out, argument, hurt/comfort, established relationship, character might be a bit ooc idk.
ಇ. Word count: ~1k9
ಇ. Based on a request by YNhi.
ಇ. Masterlist ♡ Request a fic
Your lips were pursed tightly. Hands placed on your thighs were clenched so tightly that you could feel the nails digging into your skin. You did your hardest to keep back the tears that threatened to fall, but failed. Warm drops dripped on the back of your hands, and you brushed them away as soon as you noticed a familiar figure approaching from afar.
Zayne opened the car door and sat in the driver's seat. He did not glance at you or say anything. You turned entirely to face the window, observing the soft drizzle fall outside. All you wanted to do was kick the car door open, run out into the rain and scream your lungs out.
The atmosphere between the two of you had never been this stuffy. You could have left alone, but because your body was injured and your emotions were all over the place, you lacked the strength to oppose Zayne's decision. So you let him do anything he wanted. Perhaps that was best for both.
Just a second ago, you fought to reject him and ended up sitting here with bitterness in your heart, allowing him to take you home, allowing him to control you like a puppet again.
The third time you had been hospitalized in one short month, you had also reached Zayne's limit.
People at the hospital claimed that when Dr. Zayne was upset, he became quite frightening. They thought he would explode and anyone unlucky enough to get in his way would suffer. On the contrary, Zayne's rage was like a blizzard on the horizon. You might believe it would not find you, but when it did, no matter where you hid, you would never be secure.
And that day, for the first time ever, Doctor Zayne was seen losing his usual composure.
His lengthy and fast steps resembled racing through long and busy corridors. The hospital room door opened in such a way that it was about to come off its hinges. Zayne's face solidified. Without a word, he confiscated your medical documents and commanded everyone to go, in such a frightening manner that the nurse caring for you had to shiver from the cold after leaving.
Zayne looked at the documents and then at the wound on your shoulder. It was treated in time but remained painful. The injury had left you quite weak, but after nearly a day of medical care, what distressed you the most was Zayne's attitude.
Before he could say anything, you spoke up and explained:
“It was just an incident… It wasn't like I took the initiative to accept this mission. It's just that there were no other Hunters closer to the attack area than I was…”
“That's why, despite the fact that you hadn't completely recovered and were resting, you hurried to the scene, dismissing your prior injuries. Dismissing your doctor's orders?"
One corner of the file in Zayne's hand was so tight that it became wrinkled when he let go and threw it hard on the nearby table. He turned his back on you and looked out the window. One hand on his hip, the other hand to bury his face. He acted as if he was trying his best to retain the last bit of composure.
"I'm fine." You said. "I honestly felt no discomfort. I have been able to move properly for a week now. Staying at home constantly is boring. I needed to stretch a little so I could get back to work quickly."
Zayne slowly turned around to look at you. He was still standing in the corner of the room, and you noticed the window glass behind him starting to freeze.
“You were bored? If you feel bored, call your friends. If you feel bored, go shopping or hang out where you like to go. You were bored so you decided to jump right into a group of Wanderers?"
“Zayne…” You grimaced. “I don't like you this way… You… are acting so strange…”
“Do you think I'd like to see you lying here? Do you think I'd like to see you being carried to the hospital?"
"I'm sorry…" You murmured. You knew it was you to blame for not listening to him and instead running to the scene of the attack. But you were conscious of your own strength and wanted to fulfill the commitment you made when you decided to become a Hunter.
"You've said sorry for the third time this month." Zayne responded. His face was rigid, yet his fists were clasped firmly. "I've heard enough."
"Oh, just quit it!" You abruptly raised your voice. "I told you I didn't like you acting this way. As a Hunter, it's normal for me to get hurt!"
Zayne opened his eyes wide. He was astonished by your response. He stayed silent so you could pour out your feelings.
“I am capable of taking care of myself! I don't like being told what to eat or drink. I don't like being told what time I must go to bed. Or being compelled to stay at home even though I have completely recovered and ready to battle! I'm not a child for you to order around, or tell me to do this and that!”
“You're saying, I'm too controlling over you?”
“I…” You halted. It seemed that was true. Even while you knew Zayne had good intentions and genuinely cared for you, you were unable to avoid feeling as if he was in charge of every part of your life, controlling every meal and sleep.
"Understood."
Silence permeated the hospital room for a long moment. Zayne gazed at you as if he was considering something, then he started to pack up your clothes and belongings that remained in the room.
“What are you doing?”
Zayne responded: “I don't want to be the one who controls you. You will be discharged from the hospital and free to do as you please.”
“What do you mean by that?” Free? It sounded like he did not care about you anymore. It sounded like he was going to give you your freedom back by not getting involved in anything related to you anymore.
“I will not force you to stay here. No one can do that. In roughly ten minutes, someone will come and take you to my car. I only ask you to do this for me once more.”
Having said that, Zayne turned and left. The door closed behind his broad back and you swore you were about to cry right from that moment.
The nurse came to inform you that Dr. Zayne had directly requested your discharge from the hospital. They let you go since your situation was not too serious and they believed Zayne would care for you discreetly at home. Zayne waited for you in the parking lot. He unlocked the door for you to enter first and returned to fetch a few more medical supplies before driving you home.
All along the way, you kept wondering if you had made a big mistake. You were exceptionally disrespectful and became frustrated with Zayne for no reason. However, he did not give in to you as he always did. Confused, you simply wanted to lie down on your pleasant mattress at home and weep loudly. However, as the car came to a halt in front of your flat, Zayne refused to let you get out.
You turned to look at him. He looked exhausted and miserable. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, then your eyes met for a moment. You were the first to break that connection.
"I'm home now. Can I leave yet? Or do I still have to wait for your permission?"
"Just stay a little more." Zayne's deep voice rang out. He was considerably more relaxed now than he had been previously. "I'm sorry…"
That was the first time you had heard an apology from him. How strange! Usually, you were the one making trouble, and Zayne was the one who looked after you. You were the one who said sorry. Hearing those words coming out of his mouth made you feel so odd.
“I'm sorry if I become too controlling and that makes you feel uncomfortable.”
You were astonished for a second. You still wanted to weep, but your emotions had settled down considerably.
Zayne slipped his hand down from the steering wheel to seize yours and turned it over. He said:
“When I saw you almost unconscious from the poison, being carried into the hospital room, my heart seemed to stop beating. That is not something I want to see at all.”
Zayne's eyes were quite sorrowful. You subconsciously imagined that if you switched roles and the injured person was him, you definitely would not be able to remain calm in such a situation.
“I know you can take care of yourself,” Zayne continued. “But I still want to help you do that and protect you. In my own way.”
After he finished speaking, there was a moment of calmness. The street lights were illuminated, and the rain stopped pouring. You softly clutched his hand.
“I'm sorry too, because what I said was not true… I didn't mean to call you a dictator who controls this relationship…”
You smiled at him. The corners of Zayne's lips also loosened somewhat. He took your hand and tenderly pressed a kiss on.
“I'm really okay.” You added. “The doctor also said that the poison from the Wanderers had been purified. I don't feel too much pain anymore."
Zayne gave a slight nod. He understood this from the moment he read your record. That was why he boldly asked for you to be discharged from the hospital. Even though he was upset, your safety would come first in any case.
"You said you were fine?" Zayne inquired out of the blue. "How do you prove it then?"
You exhaled. After all, he still had reservations about your ability to care for yourself. You leaned in to offer him a passionate kiss. The resentment in your heart melted away in his warmth.
As your lips withdrew from Zayne's, he whispered:
"Good enough. However, in the future, if there is an issue between us, or if you are dissatisfied with something I do,... can I trust you to talk to me directly about it?"
You gave a modest nod. Zayne kissed you, deep. He caressed you but only so gently, as if afraid that you would melt into rain bubbles if he became too greedy. A while later, perhaps since your head was hazy from the injury, you had no clue how you ended up sitting on top of Zayne in the driver's seat, your lips locked with him while your hands constantly touching his flesh underneath the shirt. His delicate but searing kisses fell on your shoulder, around the bandaged area that had just been revealed to his sight as he pulled your shirt down. He kissed your wounds, new and old. He asked softly, would you feel pain if he touched them? And you replied that there was only pain if he did not do so.
Rain began pouring again; it might last all night long. How convenient, since he did not intend to let you get out of the car in such a condition.
↬ request from anon ; Can I request for zayne? Please make a fic of him and mc where he is jealous and they making up after
↬ notes ; zayne x gn!reader
↬ from ice ; ohhh hell yeah we love jealous men in this house 🔥🔥🔥 also i wish the three LIs could meet in-game but since it won't happen i'll settle for making it happen in fanfic 😋 also did u guys see sylus because what the actual fuck HE'S SO FINE!!!
↬ warning(s) ; suggestive at the end
please reblog ! it helps a lot :)
zayne is a very secure man. he's the youngest recipient of the starcatcher award, one of the most talented surgeons to ever grace the halls of akso hospital, and he considers himself a rather good boyfriend - all this means he has absolutely no reason to get jealous. at least that's what he tells himself when he sees you happily talking to another man outside your apartment. the tall blonde smiles softly at you as you chatter away, and it's only when zayne clears his throat that you notice him.
"oh, this is my boyfriend, zayne! zayne, meet xavier - he lives in the apartment next to mine." you smile as you intertwine your fingers with zayne, blissfully unaware of how the temperature in the room just dropped to subzero. "hello." zayne's reply is curt as he scans xavier, taking in his messy hair and casual outfit, a stark contrast to zayne's sharply pressed suit and vest. xavier just nods at him before waving to you, "i think i'll go have a nap now... have fun on your date." with that, xavier leaves you and zayne alone in the corridor, where you grin at him, "let's go plushie hunting!"
after way too many hours at the arcade and practically a mountain of plushies to show for it, you're both back in zayne's car for him to drive you home. just then, your phone pings with a notification, and you can't help but giggle as you read the message, "zayne, look at this. xavier loves feeding the birds at his apartment." zayne looks at the image, which is an admittedly funny picture of a bird falling into a water dish, but then he registers the second half of your statement, "xavier? oh." his grip on the steering wheel tightens, his knuckles whitening as he internally rolls his eyes.
this time, you notice how the atmosphere becomes slightly awkward. "zayne? is something wrong?" when he doesn't reply, you tilt your head to look at him, noticing the small furrow between his brows and the barest hint of a pout on his lips. as you're wracking your brain for what could have upset him, it clicks. "zayne~" your voice has that familiar teasing lilt to it, and zayne is already planning his rebuttal when you ask, "are you jealous~?" that catches him by surprise - so that's the feeling weighing heavy on his chest. he clears his throat, eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead, "perhaps."
now it's your turn to be surprised - you weren't expecting him to admit it so candidly. you laugh delightedly as he pulls into your apartment parking lot, "that's so cute!" "you have a peculiar definition of cute, then." zayne scoffs, turning the engine off and still refusing to look at you. you click your tongue affectionately before leaning over to pull his cheek, "you're so annoying! but i guess even the great dr zayne gets jealous then, hm?" his ears are red, and he just settles for a simple, "i suppose so." "you don't need to worry about xavier," you press a kiss to his cheek, "you're the only one for me." then, a wicked smirk curves your lips as you whisper, "and if you come upstairs with me, i'll show you i mean it."
it's safe to say zayne is no longer jealous of xavier - he just hopes your neighbour isn't going to file any noise complaints any time soon.
✧ thank you for reading ! if you have a request, feel free to send it in 🌠
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