He would be in a banquet or a mission and see a weapon he thinks would be better use than the hunter's weapons better keep you safe and buy it, or a gem at the auction that would complement that dress he bought you for your date and would immediately get it at the highest price, or even a limited edition plushy you talked about once and couldn't win it, be sure he would pull all the necessary strings to get it to you, not caring about what his acquaintance would think of the big bad N109 zone boss when they hear about his hunt for a plushie.
But also he loves quality time with you, it doesn't have to be extravagant, yes he enjoys spending his money, more than that he enjoys spending his money for you, but his tip priority Is being with you in which ever place you choose even if it was a free holiday and a night at some motel, he only wants your warmth in his arms and nothing else
❄️˚ 𝒵𝒶𝓎𝓃 ˚ ❄️ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Words of affirmation and attentiveness
━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━
You try to act okay, you really do but he knows you too well, he notices the subtle changes about you, how you're more still than usual, how your eyes don't hold their usual sparkle , or how you didn't send him silly texts throughout the day. He won't pressure you to tell him, instead he'll be with you, using his dry humour to cheer you up, making sure you had proper meals, and took your medicine if there is any, he would sit next to you on the couch as you both watched some movie, he won't pressure you, he would be there with you through it, calling you his good girl.
If he wasn't so afraid of hurting you by losing control over his evol he would have definitely been a physical touch type of a man more than he already touches you, his words would translate to more touches, he would hold you endlessly for your and his sake.
₊˚⊹🍎 𝒞𝒶𝓁𝑒𝒷 🍎⊹˚₊
Acts of service
━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━
It's no secret that Caleb has been taking care of you since you were young, he knows you like the palm of his hands, he enjoys cooking your favourite meals and watching you savour it, he loves catering to your needs before you even acknowledge them, maybe It's because you have grown up together or maybe it's his obsession with you that grew up with him, but Caleb's love is in doing.
𖤐 ✧･ﾟ 🧜♂️ 𝑅𝒶𝒻𝒶𝑒𝓁 🌊 ･ﾟ✧ 𖤐
Quality time [playful time + shared Words]
━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━
This man is a fox in sheep's clothes, he has been watching you for far too long to know your habits and tics, and he knows how serious your life is, between missions and the hunter association you don't do anything else, nevertheless he liked to act gullible, though if you squinted you would see through his act. spending time with you is his favourite thing to do, and he aspires to make it fun too, by taking you on sudden trips making excuse of needing his miss body guard to protect him, or dragging you to jump with him in the water puddles, and when your giggles reaches his ears he knows he achieved something greater than he could ever have had in his sea God from. He also loves to gossip with you to take your mind off whatever is burdening you.
His love is in shared play and whispered secrets.
꒰ঌ ☀️ 𝒳𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑒𝓇 ໒꒱ ✧
grounding touch + quiet help
━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━
But he mainly likes whatever you like to be fair, you're his only person, and he claims he doesn't need any other human being, he loves doing anything as long as he gets to do it with you alone, and you enjoy it, but if you asked him about his favourite time, he would say it's when you sleep together and not in a sexual way even though he loves that too, but he just loves to lie in the bed with you, watching your asleep form as he slowly drifted to sleep himself while he held you close, he also insists on cooking for you, but he thinks you would disagree and can't figure out why.
For him love is as simple as you and him, alone, together.
A/N: This is solely from my prescriptive, you might be receiving something else from them and that's totally fine. Tbh I can see many types of love language for each of them but I tried to write about what stood the most to me, to not be repetitive. Hope you enjoy it and that I could convey it in the right words ❤️
What you were doing was absolutely insane. You had just met the man not even twenty-four hours ago. But the connection the two of you had was undeniable—intense, almost like you were made for each other. Maybe you were.
The day had started like every other morning. You groaned when your alarm clock went off, dragged yourself out of bed, took a quick shower, brushed your teeth, and finally made your way downtown to your favorite local coffee shop.
You ordered a basic coffee and a pastry before sitting in your usual spot, far in the back. Pulling your laptop out of your bag, you began grading papers, groaning and rolling your eyes at the students who still hadn’t turned theirs in.
About thirty minutes later, you heard commotion outside. Normally, you would’ve ignored it—this was New York City, after all. It was always full of noise and nosy people. But today was different.
Flashes erupted from the windows, nearly blinding you more than the sun itself. People were screaming as if someone had dropped dead in the street. You looked up and frowned when you saw paparazzi crowding the sidewalk.
Grabbing your things, you stood and headed for the door.
“Shit! I’m sorry, love!”
You groaned as your coffee spilled onto the ground, irritation flooding your body. You were fully prepared to yell at whatever pretentious actor or celebrity had just ruined your morning—media and fans be damned.
“Watch where you—”
You stopped mid-sentence.
He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen. From his buzzed haircut to his warm brown eyes, the tattoos lining his neck, and the way he carried himself—everything about him was breathtaking.
“Are you alright, babe?” Even his accent was perfect.
“Uh—yeah—yeah. I’m sorry,” you stumbled.
He chuckled softly. “It’s my fault, really.”
You were frozen, completely mesmerized. Your heart skipped a beat.
“It’s fine—um, I should get going,” you muttered before slipping past him and pushing through the crowd of paparazzi. You needed distance. You needed him out of your head.
Unfortunately, the moment you got home, curiosity got the better of you.
You looked him up.
Searching the location of the coffee shop, you quickly found TMZ reporting the encounter.
“Zayn Malik,” you muttered. “Fuck, even his name is perfect.”
You spiraled—articles, interviews, videos. Soon, you found his Instagram. He only had a handful of posts, which made you assume he’d deleted the old ones to start a new era.
Biting your lip, you hesitated. Messaging him would be ridiculous, right? He probably got thousands of DMs every day.
Still… something about him pulled you in.
You clicked Message and started typing.
Hi… God, you probably won’t see this. Most likely won’t even open it. But I thought I should text you. I guess I’m intrigued, you could say.
You barely had time to overthink it before your phone vibrated.
You grabbed it instantly.
Hey! I don’t usually open this app unless I’m posting music or a selfie. Coffee shop girl, right?
You smiled so wide your cheeks hurt.
Yeah! Sorry about spilling the coffee, by the way. I’m normally not that clumsy.
Haha! It’s cool, babe. Got a three-year-old—used to clumsy.
Oh? Didn’t notice you had a kid. Gonna be honest, I went on a bit of a stalker session trying to find you.
Really? That’s cute.
Yeah! I’ve got a daughter. She’s the sweetest thing ever.
I love kids! I always wanted to teach younger kids instead of middle schoolers. Kids love to color and draw. Middle schoolers love to gossip and fight.
Ha! Not ready for that at all!
You’re a teacher, huh? That was my career path before I became a musician.
I enjoy teaching! I have wanted to since I can remember.
You guys do incredible work. You deserve a pay raise!
Tell that to the U.S. government 😩
Fuck them all!!!
Agreed!
How about I meet you for coffee? Promise—no paps this time.
Right now?
Yeah… is that okay, babe?
Yeah—yeah! I’ll be there in twenty.
Cool. See you soon ;)
You had never gotten ready so fast in your life.
Walking a few blocks back to the coffee shop, you noticed there were no paparazzi in sight. Inside, Zayn sat in your booth, waiting.
When he saw you, he stood and pulled you into a warm hug.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” you smiled, sitting across from him.
“Never got your name. Your Instagram didn’t give it away.”
You blushed. You’d made that account in middle school, deep in your Harry Potter obsession, hence the username voldedork_hp.
“I’m… a little embarrassed.”
“Don’t be,” he laughed. “It’s cute. I’m a huge Harry Potter fan. I went as Voldemort last Halloween, actually.”
You snorted. “My name’s Y/N.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. You’ve got a lovely name.”
“May I ask where you’re from?” you asked. “Your accent—it’s strong, even for the UK.”
“Bradford, England,” he replied. “My dad’s Pakistani, so it comes out stronger. What about you? You don’t sound like a New Yorker.”
“I’m not. Born and raised in Texas.”
“Texas, huh? Bit far from home.”
“I got a full scholarship to NYU. Couldn’t pass it up.”
“Brains and beauty,” he teased.
You blushed.
Four hours passed like minutes. His phone buzzed nonstop, but he ignored it completely. It felt like you’d known him forever—laughing, talking, sharing stories. It felt right.
“How about we get out of here?” he asked. “Walk around the city? I promise—no paps. I know places they won’t go.”
He winked.
You nodded.
He took your hand, fingers interlocking naturally, and paid for both coffees before leading you out. You walked through the city together, hand in hand, talking about everything and nothing.
You were falling—and fast.
Zayn felt it too.
That’s why, standing beneath the moonlight in front of a courthouse, he stopped. He cupped your cheek gently.
“May I kiss you, babe?”
You nodded.
The moment his lips met yours, the world disappeared.
When he pulled away, he grabbed your hand and laughed, pulling you across the street. You stopped in front of a jewelry store and a bridal shop.
“What?” you asked, laughing.
“This is insane,” he said breathlessly. “But I feel like I’ve known you forever. You’re beautiful, smart, funny… It feels like fate. You can say no—slap me, yell, whatever—but this feels right.”
“What are you saying?” you whispered.
“A jeweler. A bridal shop. A courthouse. Right here. Maybe the universe is telling us to go for it.”
Your heart raced.
“Let’s get married.”
Normally, you would’ve laughed. I walked away. Called him crazy.
But this felt like a fairytale.
“Okay.”
“Yeah?”
You nodded.
He kissed you hard before calling Taryn to be your witness. Rings were chosen. A dress. A suit.
And before you could overthink it—
You became Mrs. Malik.
A true fairytale.
i really hope you all like this fic! it’s not enough zayn fics out there and i need people to make some!
what do you think?
if you wanna be added to taglist please don’t hesitate to ask!!!
Hey i was wondering if you could write a fluffy zayn x reader?
Hey babe, sorry to be late... I have many requests so I adapted this one for you (original is with Harry).
Note: English isn’t my first language. Hope you all like it. Please, give me your opinion with a reblog, fav or a note in my askbox :) These gif's aren't mine.
Pairings: Zayn!boyfriend x Reader
warnings: no one
talk with me | masterlist
Make a massage
One more day in that company and you would rip someone's head off.
The thought made you laugh weakly as you parked at Zayn's house. It was a little after six o'clock when you clicked the control to close the garage door.
Your head was pounding with fatigue, no pill could cure that, but you had another remedy: Zayn, actually, his hands.
Your shoulders burned and you grabbed your backpack and locked the car, sighing as you walked through the door leading straight from the kitchen.
"Hey Sunny!" Zayn smiled, stirring the pot.
The smell of cooking chicken came from the oven, making your stomach beg for a big piece. You loved to eat, even more so when Zayn was home and cooking for you.
"Hi baby." You replied and pulled your backpack over near the countertop on the floor and sat down on the bench facing Zayn. You leaned against the clear marble which made Zayn let out a chuckle.
"Rough day?" He turned off the fire and washed his hands, you tried to relax but everything seemed to hurt. You waved your thumb.
You felt him coming closer caressing your head, you turned to him and hugged him, feeling his perfume and the warm temperature made your body relax little by little.
"I can imagine, my love... I can imagine" Zayn hugged you, caressing your back covered by your t-shirt.
"Do you massage?" You asked giving your best pity face as you raised your face to Zayn, seeing those two green eyes staring at you.
"Let's go to dinner, then you'll get to know my massage therapist side." He kissed you softly and left a kiss on the top of your head, you agreed leaning into him to get off the chair.
The pajamas consisting of slippers, sweatpants and a Wonder Woman t-shirt in a gray tone made you feel welcomed, it wasn't tight like your social pants and didn't hurt your foot like the high heels you walked on all day.
You threw yourself onto the fluffy bed with a grunt, Zayn had just stepped into the shower and you looked forward to the moment when his hands would squeeze your tense muscles.
You dozed off when you felt Zayn's body sitting on your buttocks and leaning over you and supporting your arms stretched out beside your body as his lips kissed your back.
"My love, do you still want the massage? Or do you want to sleep?" He whispered and you nodded positively.
Soon he got off of you and you straightened up on the bed sitting Indian style and he sat behind you, leaving you between his legs.
"Take your top off, sunshine, please." You took it off, leaving only a loose fitting top, listening to Zayn uncap a blackberry scented gel.
He had bought it the last time he was in Italy, he knew how much you loved the fruit and the smell of the products made with it.
"Before doing so, Z carefully pinned your hair up high, massaging your scalp and secured it with a clip that was in his hair, you thought all the care was incredible.
Zayn even though he was far away, loved to know about your day no matter how dull it was and even though he had many more amazing stories to tell, he was always like that, careful and interested in you and everything that was involved with you.
"The intern... I'm doing work for two!" You started and your skin shivered as the icy gel touched your skin, Zayn's large hands spread the product, squeezing just above your shoulders earning a groan from you "I teach her everything I know and she ignores it, I think she doesn't like me... and why do you know, babe"
Zain frowned between his eyebrows, spreading a little more of the cream to near the hem of his sweatshirt "Actually I don't know, my love, why?"
His thumbs pressed a sore spot on your shoulders, making you arch your body "It hurts, Z" you whined again.
"Sorry my little one, it feels like your muscle has knotted" He distributed kisses and massaged again and now, more lightly.
"She's your fan and she knows we're dating..." you let out, rolling your eyes "I don't know..." A mixture of sadness, tiredness and confusion went through you.
Since you started dating Zayn, your life had changed, but you still remained a studious, hardworking, independent woman, you were responsible for training the new HR girl, but seeing Zayn's and your picture on her lockscreen and your face on his instagram pictures, she just ignored you, leaving you to talk to yourself. You tried to understand, but working in human resources, it made you upset, were you guilty of loving someone?
"Really... But still, it makes me sad." You confessed taking a deep breath.
"My sun..." Zayn caught her attention "You care too much about others...and that's what makes me love you so much, know that! But try not to worry so much, okay? I love you and my fans know how good you do me!"
He put his arms around your waist and laid you on his chest, Zayn was also shirtless and you allowed yourself to relax once again. His fingers massaged your hand, twisting it lightly, twisting your fists slightly, and bringing them close to his face allowing him to leave tender kisses.
"I love you too, even more your massaging side." You smiled with your eyes already closed.
The last thing you heard was Zayn laughing softly and snuggling you tighter in his arms.
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13 , part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19 , part 20
HI LOVIES. Please enjoy a Friday update on the Frat Boy universe. This one is a bit of a breather after the TUMULTUOUS ANGST of the last chappie. Shorter than my usual, but it’s all the chapter needed. Tons more y/n and Harry interaction on the way in the next! Have a safe and happy day loves xx
Acquire a first edition book, either because an old friendly man who owns an antique bookshop decides to give it to me in a bonding moment, or because I have accomplished #2 and I am celebrating being a Boss Bitch
To be happy
Please note: not necessarily in that order
It was taped above my desk, waiting for me to bring it in to the next session. I hesitated to write number 6. It was a dream I hardly entertained after committing my scholarly life to pursue medicine. I used to love to doodle. All the time. Since elementary school. I doodled so much my mom dedicated a wall in the house to my illustrations. She hung a sign above it that affectionately said “Y/N’s Doodles.” Seriously, you couldn’t get me to stop. Even if it was gross sappy sketches of my crush Billy who I would NEVER show on the playground at recess.
My doodling stopped how these things normally do. Because life grew busier than anything else, and the sketchpad and easel my dad had bought for me at a garage sale became ignored, collecting dust in the corner of my room. At some point, it’d become a year since I’d drawn anything, and then it was two, and three, and by this point I’d realized I was the one who’d need to create her own stability in life and medicine was the more logical fit. It wasn’t that I didn’t see the value in drawing anymore, I just had other things take up my time. It became a comfort just knowing I used to draw. Paul had paved his way, and now I was on my way to do the same. At least with medicine, my soul felt fed. It was almost comfort enough.
“oH WE GOT A ROGUE ONE.”
A flying toenail hit my eye.
“WHAT THE-” I flailed my arms, as though there were a thousand more coming. Renny’s mouth opened in shock, her guilty body hunched over her bent leg. Clippers in hand.
“Sorry!!” Renny burst up laughing.
“oH MY GOSH CAN YOU DO THAT OVER A TRASH CAN OR SOMETHING?!”
“IT HAD A MIND OF ITS OWN!!” she screamed back.
I blinked rapidly, my left eye watering up and spilling painless tears. “Well I’m going to have conjunctivitis at the studio later. Or I’ll be stumbling in blind.” I wiped it away.
I heard another clip and she put up her hands with another giggle.
“All done. And you won’t stumble, I’m going to be there.” Renny extended her leg, her perfectly trimmed foot nearly touching the ceiling.
“You’re just going to solicit Zayn to be his next subject.”
“Maybe,” her grin grew devious. “But also because I want to see if he captured the angelic beauty and complex nymph nuances of my best friend.”
I put a hand to my chest, still aching from uncertainty. “Honored.”
“Want to watch another episode until it’s time to go?”
This whole lazy morning had been an OC Housewives bingefest. She’d seen it on my homepage and had a complete spazz, twitching whilst proclaiming but i’ve been trying to get you to watch this show for YEARS!! When she saw the old season I was on, though, she didn’t have to question why her pestering had miraculously worked. She didn’t mention him aloud besides giving me a pointed look. And so, we watched it, even though I wasn’t really in the mood to see anything about Harry right now. It’d hurt more than I thought to walk away from him last night, and to see how sad he looked when I did.
After last night, he hadn’t posted anything to social media. He’d called, twice, but I knew he was drunk, or worse, and I was tired, and whatever he would say he could tell me in the morning. Even though I knew he wouldn’t.
And he didn’t.
And therein lay the problem.
It hurt to see his family on my little box of a computer screen, weird to see his life and get glimpses of his childhood. I felt like a hacker spying on home videos. But then I reminded myself that thousands of people had already done the same. At this point, it was just… morbid curiosity.
“Nah, I don’t know if I can handle any more of that right now. Dr. Rhinecuff is going to yell at me if I don’t return these scanned copies to him by Monday.”
“Ew, he smells like meat.”
“RENNY!!”
“I’m just saying. That one time I went with you it smelled like pastrami in his office. He has a PhD, but isn’t with-it enough to buy air freshener.”
“He likes pastrami sandwiches, let him live.”
She scrolled on her phone, not bothering to respond, and my gaze turned to the window.
“Hey Renny?”
“Hm.”
A bird flew close to the glass, halting just before it hit it, then zooming off in the opposite direction. “What’d you do when your parents were fighting?”
“Ummm…” I knew the question registered in her mind when she stopped scrolling, suddenly concerned. “Are your parents okay?”
“Yeah. I mean, kind of.” I glossed over it, not caring to get into the bitter details. “I was just curious.”
“Uhh..” She plucked at the soft cotton of her cotton candy pajamas that were fraying at the knees. “I lost my virginity to Zach,” she half-laughed.
“Zach? Neighbor boy Zach?”
Renny nodded. She always sounded a little sad when she talked about him. Zach was the hot college boy who shared a backyard fence with Renny, the girl who may or may not have used her kitchen stool to peak over and see him workout on the grass every summer he came home. I’d known they’d slept together. I just didn’t think he was her first.
“I just tried to be out of the house as much as I could,” she said. “Found my true love Mary J.”
“Oh.”
“It was shitty, but I’m glad I got it over with.”
“The divorce or your virginity.”
“Both,” she chortled. “Why what’s up? Are you sad or something? I have a j in my drawer.”
“No, no, I’m fine.” Mostly I was just wondering what it must be like to feel so sexually liberated. In my house sex wasn’t talked about. At all. The inevitable sex scene in every other movie would result in my dad blaring out “WHAT KIND OF MOVIE IS THIS!” in an attempt to make it less awwkard, but having it backfire and only make it horrendously more awkward. I wasn’t saving my virginity for anyone in particular, but after all those romance novels, I wanted it to be… something. I wanted to feel something towards the person where it would justify something I’ve kept to myself for so long. I wanted it to be intense. I wanted it to be like the books. Like a Frank Sinatra song that swept up your heart and transported you back to a time of gentlemen and cigars and women in long evening gowns with fur coats and martinis.
“I wish I could just get it over with,” I confessed. One half of me screamed YOU’RE IN YOUR TWENTIES HAVE ALL THE SEX while the other half said YOU’VE WAITED THIS LONG DAMN IT HOLD OUT A LITTLE LONGER. I didn’t know which part of me was compromising more.
Renny leaned in, quick. “Would you do it with Harry?”
Like the flip of a switch, I remembered the sensuous heat of his body against mine, wrapping me up and pressing me against him where we just fit. And I couldn’t imagine how much better it’d feel to be even more connected to him.
“Maybeeee…?”
But then there was last night.
I cringed. No matter how with me he’d seemed… he couldn’t have been present after mixing whatever the hell he took and a handle of alcohol. Did I really want someone like that? Someone who could only give a shell of themselves?
“No, I wouldn’t. Or- ugh, I don’t know. I don’t know if it could ever mean as much to him.”
Renny nodded. “I mean, don’t let him pressure you, obviously. If he does, I’ll kick his baby maker smack into his prostate. Prostate. See, anatomy. You taught me that.”
“Haha, no, he’s not like that.” My brows stitched. I was confused why he wasn’t more like that, actually. We’d known each other for several months now and he hadn’t even put a finger in me. When I thought about it, it actually frustrated me. Don’t pressure me to do anything, but I wanted to be pushed to do something. I was never the bold one in areas like this.
Not that I should be so willing to do anything with him anymore anyways. Something shifted in me when I’d seen him last night. It wasn’t a shift I could easily describe, but it’d set me a foot apart from my heart. A bit of me was shocked that it had happened so suddenly.
But this shift was new, and my heart still wanted what it wanted. I knew that if I watched any more OC Housewives with Harry’s toddler curls and surfer tan, I’d be sucked right back into speculating about what our future kids could look like. And if I saw him?
You were right, Harry. You are fucked.
I cringed again. That was harsh. That was very very harsh.
I didn’t know if I’d have the courage to apologize. What if my pheromones went berserk and magnetized me to his side??
Renny was right.
I needed therapy.
The clippers were tossed back on my desk.
“Thanks,” she said. “Have you started on your DG Double P yet?”
DG Double P = Renny Speak for DG Pretty Please.
I groaned. “No. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, honestly. I have to-”
“NO!!! Don’t tell me. We’re not supposed to tell each other.” Her hand extended in panic.
“Fine. I can keep a secret.”
I was getting a little too good at that lately.
She moved onto her belly, splaying her arms out in a dramatic fashion, face squished against the comforter. “Isn’t it just killing you inside.” She was dead serious.
“Yeah, more than you know.”
And I was serious, too.
--------------------------------------
I wasn’t expecting people to dress up as much as they did. Donned in my only pair of yoga pants and a chunky white sweater, I walked arm-in-arm with Renny past girls in cocktail dresses and guys in button-downs.
Something that sounded like a baby’s cry filled my ears, but it was gone as soon as we walked through the doors to the on-campus gallery. .
“Woah did you hear that?”
Renny nodded, tossing her head back. “There’s a baby somewhere.”
It reminded me of the bodiless screams in my nightmare. In my chunky sweater, I shivered undetectably.
The on-campus gallery rotated exhibits throughout the year, but this time, student sculptures were on pedestals, nightmarish portraits hung on the walls, and red and orange tapestries swooped down and across the ceiling in a cirque-du-soleil moment as if to secure us beneath fire. Some students had separate booths, but other pieces of work trailed seamlessly into the next.
A tree made from photographs and newspaper took up the center of the space. Zayn had been so adamant about his muse having life, I wondered if that was the focus of this exhibit - to capture natural life. But I suppose all art did.
“It’s the circle of life exhibit,” Renny stated, as if reading my thoughts.
“How’d you know that?”
She held up a pamphlet she must’ve grabbed from the entrance.
I quickly scanned the room, hoping to find Zayn quickly so I could skip out just as quick.
Several of my professors were here, including Dr. Rhinecuff. When he saw me, I raised my hand, but he raised his cup of red wine awkwardly and looked away.
My hand wavered.
Odd.
Zayn was standing by the tree, speaking with an older woman. Her skin was a rich brown, short hair hidden beneath a chic scarf. The man beside her looked around the same age with graying facial hair, a pocket hanky, and beaded bracelets. Art professors.
I caught his gaze, and he gestured me over.
“Y/N, these are my instructors. David and Ebony.”
Their eyes lit up in recognition. “He did you a great justice,” David said, gray moustache twitching with the words.
Ebony beamed. “Oh yes, a piece was already sold. He’s going to be the next big wig before he graduates,” she gushed. “Zayn, I’m sure you’ll be splitting the profits with the heart of the piece.”
She gestured to me and his smile widened, but my stomach sank faster.
“I didn’t know these pieces were going to be sold.”
Ebony sensed my concern. The wine in her glass swirled. “We thought allowing the pieces to be shown and auctioned was a good way to replicate what many of them should be doing once they graduate. The whole department gets involved, and these kids put in a lot of work, and the reputation of starving artists isn’t something we want to buy into here.”
I nodded. “I mean, that’s great. That’s… really amazing.”
Zayn couldn’t meet my eyes. He knew. He could sense my hesitance, too.
“Now he can finally afford a nice dinner to take you out!” David proclaimed.
We were all quiet for a minute. “You know, for a thank you dinner,” David covered up. Zayn’s brows scrunched and he shook his head a bit, not knowing where David’s comment came from.
“Do you do this regularly?” Ebony asked, steering the conversation away from an awkward moment.
My ears pricked up when I realized she was looking at me. “Excuse me?”
“Well I was just thinking…” a light laugh lifted as if her idea would be outrageous. “Would you mind sitting in for one of my classes on Monday? Our model had a sudden death-”
“My God,” David proclaimed.
Ebony waved her hand. “-in his family. I haven’t called to replace him yet.”
It quieted as they looked at me, waiting for a response. “Oh, I don’t… I don’t usually do this. At all. It was a chance thing.”
“Luck be the artist.” David raised his glass.
Ebony followed suit, looking at my empty hand. “You just going to let her stand there without a drink?”
“Yeah, Zayn. What kind of treatment is this?” I teased.
He did a slight bow. “Apologies. We’ll walk to drinks, immediately.” He pulled us away, leading us further into the showroom as his head dipped low to my ear. “Renny just passed us to meet Felix and them. They’re through here.”
We stepped under an archway that led into a darker-lit room, but his hand stopped me beneath the nook. “Did yeh notice anything?”
Yeah. I was noticing how close we were in this archway. He saw my eyes start to squint in thought and he turned me around to face the room we’d just left.
“Look closer.”
My eyes roamed the crowd, trying to find some sort of person, or pattern he could be referring to. With a brief seize of my heart, I expected to see somebody from the gang.
“Look at the artwork, Y/N.” His breath warmed my skin.
The paintings all seemed to be bright, though sticking to red, orange, blacks, and grays. Wait, forget a pallette pattern. The next painting had blue and purple, too. One sculpture looked like a writhing ghost, twisting and reaching for something above. Or maybe it was an unearthed tree root. Despite all the bold colors, there was something off-putting about how bright they all were. It wasn’t a soothing brightness. It was almost violent. The orange and red writhing tapestries warped the ceiling into something hot.
“Is it hell?” I chortled, but quickly quieted. I expected him to take offense, but his hand went lightly around my waist with a small smile.
“Could be. See-” his arm extended out to scan the perimeter “-all this art is supposed to represent death, but challenge the notion of it through color.”
“How so?”
“Yeh know it’s usually your blacks, and your grays, s’depressing shit. But we’re born from death. Before life, there was nothing, but something. It’s bold and necessary and there, and no one really knows whatever comes before. Or after.” He looked at the room, taking a sip of wine. I watched as he swallowed, and I imagined the wine running down. “What is death but an uncertain existence.” He said the thought almost happily, looking at me with a slight smirk. “Could be anythin’.”
He took a deep breath, letting his hand touch the top of the archway. It was then that I noticed it wasn’t just plain drywall. A collage of photographs ran all along the inside.
He wasn’t as tall as Harry, but his hand still reached the top, scuffing across a picture of an African landscape taped over a toddler eating fruity pebbles.
“They’re pictures. Everyone donated one,” he said.
A strand of words were painted over the collage, running from one end of the archway to the other, and I tilted my head back to read it. “Things... that…. make... m..e …...feel alive.”
“Everyone was able to design their space in order to control, to some extent, how their art was perceived. Everyone was a part of the transition space.”
“Very nice,” I noted, slightly put-off. I hadn’t been expecting this art show to be so… professional. “Zayn, this is amazing. Like, really, truly, professional-grade stuff is happening. The presentation, the pieces, everything.”
His smile grew wider, putting cool hands over my eyes. I flinched, but let him.
I felt him come closer.
“Listen now,” he urged.
I listened, but I wasn’t sure for what. There was the familiar busy rumble of people mingling, parents visiting their kids, and professors droning on about the talent of their students. But it was chatter. I couldn’t make out one conversation over another. I shrugged up against his other hand that was atop my shoulder.
“Sometimes you need to change where you’re planted to understand.”
I hoped he could see my cross expression because I couldn’t tell if he was bullshitting me right now. It’d been a day. It’d been a night. And I wasn’t in the mood for more philosophical ramblings - especially about death. “I don’t know what you mean,” I sighed.
“Meaning I have to move you closer to the speakers.” He let out a breathy laugh. “Jus’ keep your eyes closed, okay?”
I nodded. His hand moved, tilting my head to its side. Eyes still closed, I became self-conscious imagining people trying to move past me, and here I was, planted, eyes closed in the middle of the archway. My cheeks heated. It was unnerving knowing people could see me when I couldn’t see them. And anyway, I must’ve looked ridiculous.
“What do you hear?” he urged.
“I hear a lot of people talking,” I griped.
But right when I was about to open my eyes-
I heard a familiar chirping through the chatter.
“Birds?” I opened my eyes.
“Observance can be taught, sometimes.” Zayn leant back, looking mighty proud of himself.
“Why are there birds?”
“We’re entering life,” he smiled, backing into the space. I tipped my wine back, several long gulps lightening my step as I followed him. Immediately, I noticed much more natural, earthier tones. For being a room of life, it was surprisingly darker than the prior room.
Renny, Felix, and Andre were huddled in the center where a makeshift wall-on-wheels covered in vines divided the room in half.
My eyes widened, trying to adjust to the dimness. “It’s a lot darker in here.”
“All intentional. They decided to play with light in here. People usually think of life being bright ‘n that, but it’s also when we experience varying degrees of darkness. There’s a balance to things and the trouble is finding it.” Understanding laced his voice as his dark eyes bore into mine, almost completely black. One look from Zayn and I was reminded of all the weight I’d been carrying. I fidgeted, uncomfortable seeing myself in his eyes.
“Y/N, get over here!” Renny called. My shoulders visibly relaxed. My saving grace. “You didn’t tell me you did this,” she said lowly as soon as I got close enough, shocked excitement barely contained. Her giddy smile gave it away though. “Miss sexy secret keeper over here.”
“What do you mean?”
She playfully poked my sides, but Andre and Felix avoided my gaze. Something wasn’t right. And it stirred my stomach, my body already knowing, somehow.
I turned in slow motion, the charcoal drawings in my peripherals stopping me in place. Framed amidst the vines, my face was etched onto paper, scrunching and twisting in various expressions. But my body was attached and twisting, too. And it was bare, bent over, spread out, laying down… My eyes scanned over them a dozen times in a second.
I was naked.
In all of them.
One was titled “21st Century Love.” In this one, I faced the viewer, but looked past them, sorrowful eyes, brows furrowed, breasts I’d never shown on full display. A hickey or two on my neck. A painful sting gripped my chest. I looked sad. I looked so sad.
Tunnel vision, a blurred Renny rushed down to the floor, and a distant part of me registered something wet splatter on my feet.
The wine had dropped.
I’d dropped it.
I was trapped in a shell. My body was numb.
“Babes, you okay?” Renny asked, her voice somewhere far away. Somewhere outside the shell, her voice drowned in the busy rumbling, with the birds, with the watchers. People were watching me now. I was being watched. “Felix, grab some towels!” she barked.
I looked horrified, towards Zayn, but changed my mind just as fast. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t even breathe.
He didn’t know me at all. He could stare at me for a thousand sessions and paint every crevice, sunspot, blemish, and mole and still not see me. How was an artist this blind? How could he not know that this was the last thing I could ever want? How could he picture me so… intimately?
The paintings seemed to swirl into one before bouncing back out into their separate exposees.
Because that’s what it was.
An exposure.
A stranger could pay to have me in their home.
The floor spun, vision spotting.
My lungs tightened, tearing me away from Renny, from Felix, from Andre. From Zayn, the artist who painted a confused girl so unashamed. So honestly. Savagely and Unabashedly.
“I didn’t want this.”
And it was when I was halfway out the door that I realized the voice had come from me, a mantra pushing my shell all the way home.
Request: “Hiii, can you write a fluffy imagine where y/n can’t sleep so she calls up zayn and they do something random together until they get tired and eventually fall asleep?”
2:28 am.
That was the exact time that was displayed on the bright screen of your IPhone, and with every passing second you only felt lonelier. This was about the 3rd time that you had woken up tonight and it was starting to become a little more than just irritating. Zayn left for tour about a couple nights ago and all you really wanted more than anything right now was to be snuggled up into his side as the soft thudding of his heart lulled you back to sleep again, but that couldn’t happen; not with him being miles upon miles away from you.
The last thing you wanted to do was call him knowing that he must be exhausted from all of the jet lag he had been put through, but before you knew it your phone was right back in your hand, eyes squinting at the bright light illuminating inside of your bedroom. You listened as the dial tone rang and rang, and eventually stopped indicting that he had answered the other end.
“Baby, whats going on?” He questions tiredly, a hint of worry laced in his raspy voice. You had never called him this late at night before and you couldnt really blame him for being a little caught off guard by it.
He sounded beyond tired and you couldn’t help but to feel a little guilty about waking him from his slumber, but at the same time hearing his voice again instantly relaxed you and you sighed in content, “I just cant sleep, I wanted to talk to you one more time before i drifted off.” You tell him.
“Aw babe,” He hums soothingly, “tell me whats wrong? I’m here.” His body continues to ruffle against the sheets as he tries to find a comfortable position to lay in once again.
“I just miss you, Zayn. I wish you were here with me.” You confess, “Its been so lonely without you.”
“I know, Y/N, i miss you too, but ill be home soon, we just gotta get through these next couple of months then i promise ill be home with you again baby, just you and me.”
It wasn’t hard to hear the pure guilt in his voice as he spoke to you on the other end of the phone. He knew it was more than just unfair for you to be the one in this relationship who had to wait months upon months just to see him again, and if it was within his power he would have been right next to you in a single heart beat.
“I know Zayn,” you murmur and you noticed as your eyelids began to feel a little heavy, “ just talk to me until i fall asleep again, okay?”
“Of course baby.” He chuckles at the tiredness evident in your tone, “just relax, yeah? I’m right here...” He promises, those being the last words exchanged between the two of you.
And before you knew it, the both of you had fallen right back asleep, that being the last and final time you woke up through the entire night.
Requested by: Anon
- I really hope whoever requested this imagine gets the chance to read it since it was requested such a long time ago, and i also apologize for it being a little short (Also for my lack of writing). Im getting back into the writing process btw so request some more imagines!
Context: Zayn is having a nightmare as Dawnbreaker
Zayn×reader, mention of Dawn breaker, you are married to Zayn, suggestive, mainly self-indulgent tbh, not proofread. I'm not entirely satisfied with it tbh but enjoy♡
The voice of your husband whimpering from next to you, at first you thought you were dreaming but he whimpered again and your eyes snapped open to find Zayn lying next to you on the bed, brows furrowed in distress, skin glistening with sweat as he fists the sheets between white knuckles his chest rising and falling in laboured breaths.
You shot up immediately heart thrumming against your chest in distress for your lover, you knew not to wake him up, you remember reading about it somewhere that it's dangerous to jolt someone who is having a night terror awake. So you brushed against his cheek brushing against the sweat there and trying to ground him.
"It's okay" you softly whispered not to scare him "It's just a nightmare" Your other hand drew soothing circles on his arm.
His breath came out shallow as his hands tightened on the sheet turning his knuckles impossibly white " I hurt you... no..."
You reached your hand to his fisted ones trying to gently make him relax them by rubbing them soothingly "You didn't, you would never, I'm okay, I'm here Zayn" You pressed your lips gently to his forehead " Listen to my voice" You hoped your voice would guide him somehow "We're safe baby"
His hand suddenly shot to you, and you couldn't help the yelp of surprise when you found yourself under him, his arms wrapped around your waist tightly almost painfully, his evol getting out of control as the temperature dropped and tendrils of ice started forming around you, inching toward your bodies
He kept whimpering incoherent words calling your name desperately.
"Baby" you breathed as his arms kept tightening around you, you knew you needed to reach him inside whatever he is trapped in, because he might actually hurt you without feeling it. You didn't want to think about it or how he would feel after instead you kept your calm and wrapped your arms around him like, palm running up and down his heaving back.
"Zayn, baby listen to my voice, I'm fine, so are you, we are in our house, in our bed safe and sound, if you can hear me focus on my voice, on my touch" You pressed a kiss to his ear.
Slowly but surely you felt that his grip started to relax, his breath less ragged and he stopped squirming. Tentatively as if afraid it might be an illusion he lifted his head, teary green eyes gazed down at yours, and the look in them broke you, guilt, fear and hope all battling in those mesmerising irises.
"It was just a bad dream" you repeated.
His throat popped up and down as his gaze raked your face "You're okay?" It was both a question and a confirmation at the same time, you nodded.
He sat up taking you with him, the fear that whatever he saw in that dream still holding him. As his gaze kept raking your body to make sure that you're okay as you claim.
His eyes widened when they fell on your wrist and he retreated, you followed his gaze to find the skin on your wrist where he held you was red with his fingerprints printed on it, soon it would be bluish.
"No, Zayn..
" I hurt you" He didn't even give you a chance to finish as he jumped out of the bed, stumbling out of the bedroom repeating that he hurt you.
You called out after him but it was like he was in his own world as he kept walking towards the door, understanding his intention you knew you couldn't let him go out in that state, where his evol wasn't stable and he could harm himself, so you snatched the keys from the table and taking advantage of your lighter body you sprinted and jumped between him and the door, you locked it using the keys and hid them behind your back.
"You're not going out there like that, you need to calm down " you said sternly.
He stumbled back from the door, from you, like it pained him to even be near you.
"Please, I can't... I'll hurt you .... I need " the moister in his eyes intensified as he struggled to gather words to make a coherent sentence.
"You would never " you shook your head, voice full of faith "It was just a bad dream Zayn, dreams don't become reality " you took a step forward and he took a step back.
Shaking his head "It wasn't... wasn't just a bad dream" he stumbled and fell on the couch, he'd hung down in shame, his hands covering his ears like he was trying to block something.
You felt your own tears moistening your cheeks, you wished you could take all his pain and reassure him.
"It was me... but wasn't " he started, voice barely above whisper like he was afraid to utter the words "I was killing people.....no monsters, I wasn't even called Zayn, I... was lonely, so cold,then you I met you and....I hurt you" he sobbed.
You didn't even think before you dropped the keys and crossed the distance between you and wrapped your arms around him tightly, his head against your chest, he didn't hold you back, still hunted.
You brushed through his thick hair with your fingers, massaging his scalp soothingly
"I know it was scary, and I understand, but " you lifted his head to you catching his gaze " I'm only safe when you are holding me, whatever you saw wasn't real and will never be cause I know you would rather burn the world than see me hurt" Your voice was full of conviction and your gaze was determined to make him accept your words.
He licked his lips "but .. what if I was capable of it " his voice was hoarse.
You wiped the stains of his tears from his cheeks "Being capable of doing something doesn't mean you will actually do it"
His gaze was on you but his resolve was wavering, he wanted to believe you but was hesitant.
You straddled his lap and took his shaking arms to wrap them around you wanting him to feel you, to remind him what was real and what wasn't, he was tracking your every move like you were the answer to everything, like you were his magnum opus.
"I'm only in danger when you're by my side Doctor Zayn" You called him by his title to remind him that he saved lives and didn't take them "Dreams are just that, reality is what we decide.
He nodded, swallowing, and finally held you, gently like you were made of glass, his head fell to your chest as he buried it there, like he was hiding from all those dreams.
Your hand brushed his hair letting him soak in your words.
You don't know how long you have been sitting there, but you didn't dare move letting him have all the comfort he needed. When he finally lifted his head to look at you, your lips curved into a gentle smile, you could see his resolve breaking completely trusting your words as he looked at you like you're the oxygen in the air.
Before you could utter a word his lips caught yours and he kissed you like a man who and been lost in the desert for days without water or food and he found you, his source of nourishment, he didn't even break away once as he hungrily took everything you offered greedly until you had to beg him to give you a minute to breath and even then his mouth didn't leave you, latching onto each kart of you he could reach his hands following the same lead.
From that day the nightmares never truly left him but neither did you, you were always there to reassure him, take his mind off it and most importantly keep him from believing them, but you could still see their effects on him in the ways he always checked you for injuries, or how he always seemed to touch you and hold you throughout the day almost obsessively
It had only been three days since you’d done the craziest thing of your life. And yet, you didn’t regret a single second of it.
Zayn had gone back home yesterday—it was his turn to take care of his daughter. You understood completely, never wanting to come between the two of them. You knew firsthand that kids came first. It was the same rule you lived by with your students.
You looked down at your hand and smiled. Zayn had given you the most beautiful ring you’d ever seen. Giggling to yourself, your phone suddenly started to ring.
Your brows furrowed when you saw an unknown number. You ignored it, rolling out of bed and getting dressed. After heading downstairs, you walked to the nearest train station and waited patiently.
Once you arrived at your destination, you went straight to your classroom. Your phone buzzed again. Frowning, you finally decided to answer.
“Who is this?!”
“I’m sorry, Miss Y/N. It’s Taryn—Zayn’s assistant!”
“Oh—no, it’s fine. I’m sorry,” you said quickly. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes! We just need to go over a few things. Nothing bad! Zayn just wanted me to make sure you’re doing alright. Do you have time to meet?”
“I’m pretty busy Monday through Friday. The only time I have available is the weekend. Is that okay?”
“That’s perfect! I could meet you at your apartment, if you’re comfortable. I don’t want to overwhelm you.”
“That’s actually perfect. Do you need my address?”
“Zayn can give it to me. I’ll see you soon, Miss Y/N—or, well… Miss Malik now.”
You blushed as the call ended. Not long after, your first-period class began piling into the room.
“Let’s get started!”
The weekend came faster than you expected. You were grading papers when a knock echoed through your apartment. You weren’t expecting Zayn to be there too.
“Hi, babe.”
Zayn kissed you gently, making you smile before letting both him and Taryn inside.
“This is a surprise,” you said. “I thought it was just going to be your assistant.”
“Meh,” he shrugged. “Thought I’d come by since Khai’s with her aunt.”
You gestured toward the living room before everyone sat down. “Sorry—it’s not exactly a fancy place.”
“I like it,” Zayn replied easily.
“So,” you asked, “what’s this all about?”
“We just need to go over a few things now that you’re married,” Taryn said.
“Like…?”
Taryn glanced at Zayn before continuing. “Your life is going to change completely, baby. I just want you to be prepared.”
Zayn reached for your hand, squeezing it reassuringly.
“Once the world finds out, your social media following will skyrocket. You’ll get messages from strangers, paparazzi will follow you, and—unfortunately—there will be hate comments. We want you to be mentally prepared for all of that,” Taryn explained.
“That’s why we brought information on therapists in the area, if you plan on staying here.”
“Why wouldn’t I stay here?” you asked.
Zayn exchanged another look with Taryn.
“We also found a few private schools you could teach at,” she continued. “Some elementary schools. Zayn told me how much you wanted to teach younger kids. They’re in Pennsylvania—more secluded.”
“We could even get a new farmhouse if you don’t like ours,” Zayn added.
“Wait,” you said, taking a deep breath.
“I know this is a lot,” Taryn said gently. “But these are necessary steps to keep you safe. If you want to stay in New York, we can find more private places to live and more secluded schools for you to teach at.”
You swallowed. “I just… I never really thought about all of this. I love being with you, and I don’t regret marrying you, but everything is changing so fast. We’ve only been married for a week, Zayn. I thought we’d keep things private for as long as we could.”
“If that’s what you want, we’ll do that,” Zayn said immediately.
“But it will be difficult,” Taryn added.
“How?” you asked. “Celebrities do it all the time, right? Keeping things low-key?”
“It’s not impossible,” she said, “but it’s not easy. People will notice Zayn coming in and out of this building. They might see you together, find your social media, or uncover things with a simple Google search. Fans can be… resourceful.”
You sighed.
Change had always scared you. It was why leaving home years ago had been so hard. You didn’t hate change—you just avoided it when you could. On top of that, you still hadn’t told your family. Your mom would be furious—not only because she missed your wedding, but because you married someone who was practically a stranger.
And there was still something you hadn’t told Zayn. Something important. You were afraid it might make him see you differently… or regret marrying you.
“Could we maybe keep things private for a few months?” you asked softly. “Just so we can enjoy this honeymoon phase? I’d like you to meet my family first—and I want to meet yours too. Is that okay?”
Taryn smiled and handed you a sleek black debit card. You frowned. “What’s this?”
“What’s mine is yours, and what’s yours is mine,” Zayn said. “I added your name to my account. You can use it whenever you need anything.”
“Zayn, I don’t need your money.”
“I know,” he said gently. “But I want you to have it—even if you never use it.”
“You’re already trying to spoil me, huh?”
“He does that,” Taryn laughed, nudging his shoulder. “Always give, give, give. It can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”
You smiled at him lovingly. “I’m going to head out—Bobby’s expecting me. You two lovebirds enjoy your night.”
Taryn smirked before leaving.
Zayn kissed you deeply, and while you enjoyed it—God, he was an amazing kisser—you needed him to know something first. You pulled away, making him frown.
“What’s wrong?”
You stood and paced. “Before anything goes further… I need you to know something.”
“What do you mean?”
You sighed. “I’m not very experienced.”
His eyes widened slightly. “You mean you’re—”
“Yes,” you said quietly. “I’m a virgin, Zayn. Is… is that okay?”
He immediately stood and took your hands. “Baby, that’s okay. And if you’re not ready, I understand. I just want you to be comfortable.”
Relief washed over you. “Thank you. Most guys aren’t so accepting. That’s why I was nervous.”
“Most guys are dicks,” he smirked. “I, however, am a man.”
You laughed softly, cheeks warming. “Could we maybe just cuddle tonight? I feel ready… but also not. Does that make sense?”
Zayn hummed thoughtfully before smiling. “Anything you want. I’m right here with you, love.”
The two of you walked into your bedroom, holding each other as you drifted off to sleep in one another’s arms.
