Tags: Friends with benefits, drabble, feelings realization, domestic setting, low stakes, fluff, one-shot, light smut, kissing, parking lot shenanigans, mentions of sex, explicit language, dirty talk, mentions of inappropriate uses of vegetables, Zayne's impeccable restraint -> Zayne's erotic loss of it
Summary: "I love you," he rasped, navigating to your neck, "couldn't you tell by the way I fucked you."
Word Count 1.7k
Let me walk you through this one. Writer's block -> love for Zayne -> asking best friend for random prompts -> wanting to prove I can write a one-shot that doesn't progress into a full blown story (this almost became a whole story - don't ask) -> produce aisles and cucumbers. My first time writing for Zayne!
"Prove it then," you challenged, "prove you don't have feelings for me."
Hazel eyes remained gentle, calm, composed in that brutal way you found infuriating. Long fingers were curled around the handle of the shopping cart, the evening's dinner compiled in the basket, the ice cream beginning to melt. What had started as a tame shopping trip had quickly escalated into conflict.
Because last night, when Zayne had taken you atop his desk in his home office, something within your heart had shifted violently. His soft voice whispering into your ear, his precise hands bracketing your waist, and his piercing eyes - fervent with passion, wild with ecstasy. All attributes you wanted to savor for a lifetime.
"That is a rather bold conclusion," Zayne responded, reaching above his head to snatch a produce bag from the supplied roll. Methodically, he used his fingernails to split the plastic, and began inspecting the bell peppers with an eye only possessed by a doctor. "What evidence have you gathered to make such an accusation?"
"You haven't kissed me."
He faltered, a minute twitch of his index finger as he reached for the piece of fruit he had determined as adequate. Slowly, he deposited the bell pepper into the bag, then grabbed another one. You stepped closer, invading his space. His eyes glanced at you, a simple observation, then he was rounding the cart to place the bag next to the frozen lasagna.
"Zayne," you prompted, an edge to your voice indicating frustration, "I can't do this anymore."
"The produce section of the grocery store is not where we should be having this conversation," he continued to grab more items, this time, filling a bag with celery.
His professional demeanor had always attracted you to him: his polite respect for strangers and companions, his near damn perfect posture, his relentless ambition to get things right. It made when he lost control that much more enticing. The filthy words, his blazing eyes, the grunts as he buried himself to the hilt. It was one or the other, no in-between.
You wanted the domestic side. Yes, shopping together was domestic indeed, but you could do such chores with your friends and family. You wanted the romance, the kisses in the kitchen while cooking, the hugs from behind as he explained the hardships of the day.
Pining after this man for so many years had its downsides. You were desperate, on the brink of pushing limits, placing him in an uncomfortable situation.
Around Zayne, you had been calculated. His words were sometimes few, but resonant. If you were about to enter a conversation with the potential to expand, you would become his focal point. And that stare of his, pure as ice, always melted your resolve.
On a whim, out of fear of the serious, you had navigated a conversation months ago, ultimately settling upon a new dynamic. Friends, you two had forever been, so what was the danger of some benefits? Other men barely caught your interest, and if they did, it was fleeting. Zayne, on the other hand, had been the first person you imagined kissing when those thoughts were born from puberty.
"Well, you don't seem to want to have this conversation anywhere else," you replied, venom curling your pronunciation. That wasn't true, you knew Zayne would be open to a conversation late in the evening, maybe at the coffee shop you two frequented before work. He would even consider it as you two caught your breath underneath his fancy blankets, skin marked in bites and bruises.
You were projecting.
Zayne had moved onto cucumbers. The sleek shine of the vegetable's skin pronounced beneath his pristine hands. He twisted his wrist, scouting for any imperfection. And your brain, lost in some delirium, reminisced.
His hand had cradled his own erection quite similarly the night prior, near the base, poised so you could sink down upon him easily. That smirk he wore as your rode him sprinkled burning sparks across your skin, and your nails had dug into his chest, a form of restraint to prevent your mouth from finding his.
You had always taken the initiative, Zayne had always guarded his inhibitions. You wanted his lips fused to yours, his tongue spearing deep and meeting your tenacity.
"Insertion of this vegetable has become more common."
You choked on nothing but your own saliva, "you aren't suggesting we - nevermind."
"No, I was just stating what I had learned at a meeting this week."
You weren’t entirely sure how to carry on the conversation after that. So, you didn’t. Zayne had always been comfortable with silence between you two, and of course, you had too.
The rest of the grocery trip went by with mindless glances at random products, and occasionally looking at your phone. Zayne kept to his routine, checking expiration dates, comparing prices, and purchasing products only his personal research had approved of.
It wasn’t long before the cart was tapping the bumper of his car, filled with the reusable bags he had taken from their designated spot in his pantry. Zayne unloaded the groceries into the trunk as you leaned against the passenger side door. Usually, you would aid in emptying the cart, but a petty stubbornness had compelled you to just watch.
Zayne expressed his own dissatisfaction, huffing when he latched the trunk hatch and walked the cart to its corral.
You observed, noting his stride, the confidence in his step. You went to open your door, only to find it locked.
You frowned.
Zayne strode past his vehicle to meet you at your side. Rotating so you faced him, your back to his car, your mouth opened.
“What are you -”
“For once, I won’t ask for permission.”
His kiss was like ice shattering, a foundation crumbling beneath your feet.
Zayne was rough.
Zayne was taking control, he was dominating.
And hell, if you didn't devour him in return.
The handle of the car door dug into your waist, but that was the least of your worries, especially with the doctor bending your back over the curve of the car. Your hair brushed the roof of the chassis, hands grappling onto his upper arms.
"I've wanted to kiss you," his voice was feather-light, that monotone, yet beautiful timber he often consulted you with, "for quite some time."
"Then why didn't you?"
He considered your question, lips resting over yours. His sharp nose nuzzled your cheek as he playfully nudged you.
"I knew once I did, I would completely fall."
Your gasp felt unnervingly loud in the parking lot. A shopping cart rattled in the distance, car doors slamming. And here was one of the most composed gentlemen you had ever known, prying your lips apart with his tongue, and sweeping inside to taste.
His breath punctuated his movement, harsh sounds relaying his desperation. Each smack of your lips drew heat into your abdomen, accumulating, eventually seeping from between your thighs.
"Please do," you urged, "fall for me completely as I have for you."
His heart thudded against your chest, lips departing from your mouth to trail over your jawline. Above, flakes of snow swirled, caught in the overhead lights of the parking lot. They littered his hair, dots of white against raven-black. Your hand raked over them, the minor chill exhilarating.
"I love you," he rasped, navigating to your neck, "couldn't you tell by the way I fucked you."
"Perhaps I need to reassess your performance."
His chuckle was saturated in mirth, "I always recommend a reevaluation before submitting final results."
Pain erupted from the slope of your neck, his teeth capturing a portion of skin to pinch. He suckled, each pull confirmed with a messy lick of ease.
"Where did those pretty sounds go?" He teased.
"Zayne, we are in public!"
"I'll admit,” he paused, catching his breath, “there's something undeniably addictive about stepping out of line.”
He wasn’t finished.
“I don’t know where to start with you,” he exhaled, as if restraining those words had been a considerable burden.
With your head tilted back, flakes rested upon the skin of your neck, thawing in time with each swallow. Droplets trailed down to soak your hoodie, and Zayne watched, eyes riveted by the slopes of your body. It gifted you some time to observe his mouth, and how those lips had finally touched yours.
Your arms wrapped around his neck, and you rose, rising on the toes of your shoes to kiss him. He took one step back, bracing from your momentum. His body always had moved in ways that were subtle, never explosive, always a source of consolation. But his hands grasped, nearly clawing at your hips. An ache registered as he applied pressure, arresting your freedom, and yanking you against him.
“Feel me,” his demand was carried by a whisper, hands roaming to your rear, nails digging into your flesh through your sweatpants. Your hiss was stolen by his ministrations, your body surrendering to his lead. “Feel exactly what you do to me.”
You did. Pressed this close together, his length nudged against your navel.
There was a joke buried in this situation, one hinting at the use of a cucumber. You would have verbalized it if it wasn’t for the onslaught of his lust.
Your leg steepled, hooking your knee over the jut of his hip, cradling his cock in the vent of your heat. All he had to do was push your waistband down, undo his zipper, and vault his hips forward, sinking deep into the crease of your cunt.
If he had wanted.
Zayne wouldn’t.
“The ice cream is melting,” he noted despite the reaction of his body as he lurched, driving the crown of his arousal over the outline of your pussy. “And we have perishables.”
You knew him too well.
“So shall we go?” You suggested.
“It’s not safe to drive when distracted,” he reasoned.
His hand dug into his pocket, procuring his keys. The car beeped, his arm outstretched, hand grasping the handle for the backseat. Your heart stumbled to a near stop, your limbs would be tangled in the narrow space provided, the windows would fog, and the chassis might rock.
Zayne had a plan, the glint of his eyes ensuring security.
With a voice laden in satin, he ordered regardless,
“Get in.”
This had been in my drafts since February 23rd - yikes
Pairings: Various Love&Deepspace Men x reader
Summary: There's a rookie Hunter who idolizes you to the point where it's concerning, but you don't pay much attention to it until it starts getting out of hand. Luckily for you, you have six people who have your back.
Note: I scrapped three different drafts for Love&Deepspace because I wasn't satisfied with how it was going. My brain was also on vacation (I went to Anime Expo and was able to interact with a Sylus cosplayer), and I couldn't think of anything else other than the cosplayer. I left it at a cliff hanger because I do want to come back to this fic in the future. I also officially added Valko to the lineup :) Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (also Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and AO3 (Aaliah_exo).
Warnings: None that I know of, aside from someone trying to become the reader.
Word Count: 7.5k
Recently, the Hunters Association has hired twenty new employees, and one of them happens to be one of your biggest fans. You didn't know that you had a fan, but a woman around your age named Rika approached you one day at the Association with stars in her eyes while you were with Tara and Xavier. She stopped the three of you in the middle of the hallway, her hands clasped in front of her chest as she rambled on about how much she admired you after introducing herself.
"You're one of the best hunters in the Hunters Association! I-I look up to you!" She says, tucking her hair behind her ears shyly.
Tara smiles. "Aw! That's so sweet! [Y/N], looks like you have a fan." Tara teases, nudging you lightly.
"I look forward to working alongside you on the field as your partner one day!" Rika says, bowing to you.
You smile at Rika, heat rushing to your cheeks as many Hunters passing by look at your group curiously, whispering among themselves. Before you can say anything, Andrew calls out to Rika, gesturing for her to follow him. Rika quickly apologizes before running off to where Andrew is waiting for her.
Xavier smiles. "Rika seems nice and very eager to work alongside you."
Even though it's sweet that Rika looks forward to working alongside you in the future, you find out that she's in another department for the Hunters Association. Instead of being part of the Alpha Team like you, Xavier, and Captain Jenna, Rika is working in the Data Analysis department of the Hunters Association. You're not entirely sure how long Rika has been hired under the Association, but you're assuming not long because she assumed you two would be working together on field missions.
"Hey, [Y/N]! Andrew wanted me to give you these documents to skim over." Rika approaches your table, putting a large stack of manila folders on your desk.
Your eyes widen. "What do these documents contain?" You ask, grabbing the top file from the stack and open them, only to see that there's nothing in the folders.
Rika shrugs, pulling up a chair beside you. "I'm not entirely sure. He said you should know what the documents are about."
You shake your head, grab a folder from the middle, and pull it out from the stack. For once, you sigh in relief when you see three documents that need to be reviewed and signed for the Data Analysis department. You try to read the document in your hands, but the feeling of Rika staring holes into the side of your head is making it hard for you to focus.
You look at Rika, smiling at her. "Is there anything I can help you with?"
Rika blinks owlishly. "Oh, I thought I was going to sit here and wait for you to fill out the documents before returning them to Andrew," Rika replies.
You shake your head. "You don't need to wait for me, Rika. I'll have the documents signed and returned to Andrew by the end of the day. Besides, I don't want you to get in trouble if you're here with me for too long."
"Oh, you're right! I-I'll be back by the end of the day to collect the documents!" Rika says, getting up from the seat and pushing it back to where she took the chair from.
You open your mouth to protest, but Rika is already gone. You chuckle, shaking your head in disbelief, and continue where you left off. At first, you didn't mind having someone like Rika around you. She's sweet and friendly, and you love giving her advice when she needs it. You don't see her outside of the Hunters Association as you do with Xavier and Tara—actually, you don't even remember if you've ever run into her outside of work.
You're walking around Azure Square, sipping on your milk tea with your arm linked around Valko's arm while Sylus's arm is thrown over your shoulders. You mindlessly scroll through your phone, trying to look for the address of this new boba shop Tara texted you about.
"Are you sure it's in Azure Square, pipsqueak?" Caleb asks, eyes scanning the area.
You nod. "Yeah! Tara said it's a new shop that's opening in Azure Square, and today should be the grand opening. She even sent me the address, but we've been sending memes to each other all day that the address is buried somewhere."
You continue scrolling through the messages between you and Tara, unaware of someone approaching you at full speed. The rapid footsteps come to an abrupt stop when Rafayel steps in front of you, forcing the person to come to a complete stop. Rafayel looks down at the flustered brunette, his arms over his chest as he scrutinizes her.
Rafayel clears his throat. "Is there something you need, Miss?" Rafayel asks, raising an eyebrow at the woman in front of him.
"Rika, it's nice to see you," Xavier says, now standing beside Rafayel with a warm smile. "What brings you to Azure Square?"
Rika peeks between Rafayel and Xavier, trying to make eye contact with you, but you're so engrossed by your phone that you fail to notice Rika's failed attempt of trying to talk to you.
Rafayel turns to Xavier, looking at him, confused. "You know this lady?"
Xavier nods. "Rika is a fellow hunter at the Association. She's also a huge fan of [Y/N]." Xavier murmurs the last part to Rafayel.
Rika walks around Xavier and Rafayel with a fake smile. You finally look up from your phone and make eye contact with Rika. You smile at her and wave at her as she approaches you, Valko, and Sylus.
"It's good to see you, Rika! What are you doing here?" You ask, fixing the purse strap on your shoulders.
Rika shrugs. "Oh, I was just walking around looking for this boba shop that Tara mentioned to me a few days ago."
"Do you know the name of the shop? I don't remember it, and I can't find it anywhere in my and Tara's conversation." You sigh, tucking your phone into your pocket before finishing up your milk tea. "I could've sworn that she texted me the address."
"I can text you the address! Here, give me your number, and I'll text it to you when you're done." Rika says, handing her phone over to you with a wide smile.
Zayne and Caleb look at each other; one raises their eyebrows, while the other crosses their arms over their chest. Sylus chuckles, shaking his head as you take Rika's phone from her hands and start typing your number into her contacts list. Valko, on the other hand, purses his lips together.
"Aren't you going to the boba shop yourself? Why not show us the way instead of texting the address?" Zayne asks, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Rika hums, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. "I was going to go to the shop, but I also need to meet up with my stepsister at Meow's Cafe."
You return Rika's phone to her, and she starts typing away on her phone. Your phone chimes, and you fish your phone from your purse while Valko takes the empty cup from your hands and tosses it into the trash can. You look up to thank Rika, only to see her retreating figure.
"She's a bit strange," Sylus mutters, adjusting his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. "Are you two close by chance?"
You shake your head. "Not really. We're coworkers, but I don't see her around as much since we work in different departments at the Hunters Association."
You click on the address Rika sent to you, and it opens up the map. Thankfully, you're not too far from where the new boba shop is located. It's only on the second floor. You redirect everyone and walk to the escalator, eyes glued to your phone to make sure you're not going in the wrong direction.
"This Rika girl seems nice. A bit awkward, but nice nonetheless." Valko comments, gently squeezing your hand. "The way she acts around you reminds me of how people try to get a glimpse of their favorite celebrity."
You rub the back of your neck, tucking your phone into your purse after closing out the app. "I wouldn't say that…"
Later that evening, you're lying on your bed getting ready to go to sleep when your phone chimes. At first, you're assuming it's a good night text message from Sylus, Xavier, Rafayel, Valko, Zayne, and Caleb, but you were wrong. It's from an unknown number, the same number that texted you the address to the newest boba shop.
"It was good seeing you today, [Y/N]! I hope we get to hang out together soon! Oh, by the way, this is Rika!"
You send a quick text to Rika, thanking her for the address, agreeing to hang out with her sometime in the future before bidding her goodnight. You put your phone on mute and turn off the bedside lamp. When Rika said that she's a fan of yours, you didn't think much of it. In fact, you find it sweet that she wanted to do well in being a Hunter and maybe switch from Data Analysis to being on the Alpha team with you, Xavier, and Captain Jenna.
Whenever you arrive at the Hunters Association, Rika is the first person to greet you with a warm cup of coffee before whisking you away from Xavier and Tara. Rika has her arm linked with yours as both of you walk to clock in for the day. Tara shakes her head with a chuckle while Xavier's visibly pouts that someone just snatched you away from him.
"Oh, relax, Xavier! Rika's been looking forward to hanging out and talking to [Y/N] since meeting her! Cut the girl some slack." Tara chuckles, patting Xavier's back.
Xavier looks away, eyebrows furrowing. "Who says I'm upset? I just didn't expect my partner to be snatched away from me the moment we stepped into the Hunters Association."
Just when Xavier thought that Rika snatching you away from him before clocking in was bad enough, Rika intercepted him during lunch break and whisked you away from him. But of course, Xavier doesn't let Rika get away that easily because he decides to follow you and Rika. Rika leads you to a small corner of the cafeteria, plopping her lunch bag on the table and gesturing for you to sit down.
"I have so much to ask you about your field missions!" Rika starts, bouncing in her seat as she takes her lunch out of her bag.
"Well, ask away! I'm more than happy to answer your burning questions, Rika." You reply, unzipping your lunch bag.
Rika opens her mouth to begin, but quickly closes her mouth when Xavier sits down beside you. You and Xavier smile at each other. You turn to Rika, only to see her frowning.
You tilt your head, "Rika? Are you alright?"
Rika smiles. "Yeah! Everything is fine, I wasn't expecting anyone else to join the two of us."
Xavier chuckles, gently nudging you. "Well, [Y/N] and I usually have lunch together with Tara, Nero, Andrew, and Simone. In fact, they're heading over here right now." Xavier gestures to the group of four approaching the table.
Rika turns around and sees the quartet walking to the table with food trays in their hands. You smile and wave them over, making room on the table for Tara, Simone, Nero, and Andrew. Rika sighs, shoving a spoonful of rice into her mouth as you and Xavier greet the quartet. The impromptu interview Rika planned to give you is thrown out the window the minute uninvited guests join the two of you for lunch. In fact, Rika is glued to her phone the entire time while you're conversing with those around the table.
After lunch ended, everyone returned to their designated area of the Hunters Association. Before you clock in, you quickly pull Rika to the side to apologize to her about what happened in the cafeteria. Rika brushes off your apology with a smile, telling you there's nothing to apologize for and that she hopes she can hang out with you outside of the Hunters Association more. You agree to her suggestion and tell her that you're free this weekend. Her eyes practically light up, nodding eagerly before skipping away happily.
Since that day, you have been hanging around Rika more often. You've been training her on the side as well, mainly because she asked you if it was okay and she wanted to try to switch departments. Of course, you reminded her that she can still be a field agent while simultaneously working as a Data Analyst, like Tara! But your answer didn't make her happy.
"There's nothing wrong with being a data analyst, but I want to be part of Alpha Team with you!" Rika says, sipping on her boba. "And Xavier and Captain Jenna, of course."
You hum, tilting your head. "If you don't mind me asking, why do you want to be a part of Alpha Team so bad? You have to be highly skilled to be part of the Alpha Team because we take on difficult missions."
Rika sighs, not saying anything for a moment. You two sit in silence, watching people walk by. Eventually, Rika tells you why she wants to be part of Alpha Team. You know that Rika looks up to you and that she wants to go on missions with you in the future, but her answer is something you didn't expect.
Rika places her cup on her lap. "I want to be like you. I want to be on Alpha Team and be the best hunter in the Association! Everyone knows who you and Xavier are, and they admire you two! I want people to do the same with me one day."
"That's really sweet of you, Rika, really. I'm sure you will become a part of the Alpha Team in the future. I'm rooting for you, and I know you will be able to achieve your goals one day." You smile at her.
You didn't think too much into it every time Rika (or other people) brings up how she looks up to you. Why should you ruminate on the thought of a new hunter wanting to rank up and be a part of the Alpha Team? Many hunters from all departments want to be part of the Alpha Team, so it's not unusual for fellow hunters to approach you and Xavier for advice on how to be recruited to the Alpha Team.
"She has a secret admirer at the Hunters Association," Xavier says, putting down two bowls of stewed meat in the middle of the dining table.
Rafayel snorts, grabbing his chopsticks to grab two stewed meats from the bowl. "Is it really called a secret admirer if we all know who it is?" Rafayel asks, breaking the meat in half and taking a bite of it with steaming rice. "Ah! Hot, hot, hot."
"She's been hanging around with that Rika girl often, hasn't she? She was supposed to join us for dinner, but she's late." Sylus comments, looking over at the clock on the wall.
Valko looks at Xavier, sipping on his Awoo Milk. "I'm sure she'll be home soon. Plus, Caleb isn't done cooking dinner just yet, so she has time to get home before everything is done." Valko comments, crushing the empty milk carton and tossing it into the trash can from his seat.
Valko's ears twitch when he hears jingling from the doorway. He gets up from his seat, walking to the front door of your apartment. Before the door can be unlocked from the other side, Valko unlocks the door himself and opens it. Your eyes widen when you see him, pressing your hand against your chest.
"Valko, hi!" You smile at him.
Valko flashes you a huge grin, pulling you into his arms and hugging you tightly after closing the door. "I missed you! Oh, it's so good to see you." Valko murmurs, nuzzling his chin on your head.
You wrap your arms around his waist, toeing your shoes off and kicking them to the side where your shoe rack is. "It's good to see you too, Valko. You're much clingier today." You joke, reaching up to scratch his ears, earning a deep rumble from his chest as he nuzzles his head into your hand.
As if on cue, everyone drops what they're doing and crowds around you and Valko, each of them demanding a hug and your attention. You let them pass you around to greet them with a hug, feeling yourself relax in their presence after an extremely long day.
"You made it home on time, pipsqueak. Why don't you go freshen up, and by the time you're done, dinner should be officially ready." Caleb says, patting your head.
"I also ordered you some milk tea. It's waiting for you in the fridge." Zayne comments, kissing the top of your head.
You sigh in relief, smiling at them. "You guys are the best. Have I told you guys how much I love you all?" You smile, putting your purse on the kitchen counter.
"You tell us that every day, but that doesn't mean you should stop now." Rafayel lightly pokes you.
You lightly swat his hands away from you, smiling at Rafayel before excusing yourself to go to the bathroom to take a shower. After you disappear to your bedroom, everyone waits for the sound of water running to continue where they all left off before you arrived. Zayne walks to the shoe rack and puts your boots at the top.
"She looks worn out today, doesn't she?" Rafayel mutters. "Not that it's a bad thing! [Y/N] always looks good, but she looks visibly exhausted." Rafayel frowns.
Xavier pinches the bridge of his nose. "She's probably exhausted from training Rika."
"Training Rika? I thought it was a little hangout at the mall with a friend, not some training session between mentor and mentee." Valko goes to your fridge to grab another carton of Awoo Milk. "Wait a minute, this isn't how they typically hang out, is it? If so, that would be a bit strange."
"I doubt it. I believe the whole training session started not long ago. I know because I track her locations at all times." Caleb comments.
Zayne raises an eyebrow at Caleb's comment. "You track her locations?"
"Yeah, doesn't everyone?" Caleb crosses his arms over his chest. "I can't be the only one who's protective over her."
No one says a thing—they don't want to admit that they all do keep track of your location. It's not like they don't trust you or have trust issues. You're a hunter, and you have an aether core in your heart—which puts a target on your back. People from unknown and dangerous organizations are constantly after you, so can you really blame them for tracking your location?
Fifteen minutes go by, and you finally emerge from your bedroom, fresh out of the shower and in pajamas with your towel wrapped around your head. You would dry your hair right now, but you're so hungry. Your hair can wait; it's not like you're going anywhere tomorrow. You sit between Caleb and Zayne, grabbing a bowl to fill with rice and stewed meat. You start digging in by shoveling a ton of meat and rice into your mouth. How long has it been since you've had lunch?
"Don't eat too fast, you're going to choke." Zayne gently scolds you.
You apologize, covering your mouth as you chew on your food and slowly swallow each bite. Sylus chuckles, reaching across the table to wipe the corner of your lips. Valko hands you your milk tea from the fridge, putting it in front of you. Your eyes light up, and you thank him, reaching for the milk tea to mix it. You sip on your milk tea, swinging your feet underneath the table with delight when the sweet drink hits your tongue.
"So, what did you and Rika do today?" Caleb asks, taking a bite of his egg fried rice. "You're out much longer and later than we anticipated."
You gulp your milk tea, putting the cup on the table and splitting the hard-boiled egg on your rice. "I stayed back at the Hunters Association with Rika today. We trained—well, I trained her. It went on way longer than I would like for it to, but Rika's happy, so I guess that's all that matters."
"Huh, so Xavier was telling the truth," Rafayel mutters, ignoring the look Xavier shoots in his direction. "That explains why you look like you're about to pass out at any moment when you finally got home." Rafayel comments.
You nod, chowing down your food. In between dinner, you tell them what you and Rika did. This hang out between you two was supposed to be like any hang out—go to Azure Square, shop around, and people watch! But that plan was changed last minute when Rika received her weekly report on her progress as a Hunter, and she was not happy at all. She ranked quite low for someone in the Hunters Association and begged you to train her until you gave in.
"How low did she rank?" Zayne mutters.
You sigh, debating if you should tell them. It's not like they'll mention it to Rika if they run into her, right? You poke the inside of your cheek, grabbing your napkin to wipe your lips.
Xavier leans on the table, eyebrows furrowing. "It can't be that bad, right? How else would she make it into the Association if she ranked that low?"
You lean your head back on your seat, the towel around your head toppling over. Caleb removes the towel from your head, draping it over your seat with a chuckle. Silence hangs in the air as they all wait for you to answer. The sound of chopsticks and spoons clinking against porcelain plates and bowls fills the silent air.
You let out a sharp sigh. "If she doesn't improve within three months, I don't think she will be able to switch to the Alpha Team or work at the Association longer than six months. We're already dealing with difficult missions, and if we have, no offense, someone like Rika on our team, it'll add to the workload and make things even more complicated."
"Wait, she wants to be on the Alpha Team within a year? Is that even possible?" Valko raises his eyebrows.
You shrug. "With some dedication, I would say yes. But Rika…" You trail off, sighing. What are you going to do with Rika? It's not like you can trade spots with Rika and rank up for her. "I don't even know anymore. It's sweet that she looks up to me and wants to be a part of the Alpha Team with Xavier and me, but I don't think she can rank up by the end of the year."
Sylus hums, sipping his wine. "You're doing all of this because someone told you they look up to you? Sweetie, it's not your duty to help someone just because you're their idol."
"I know, Sylus, but—"
"You're not obligated to train and help someone rank up, especially if they're a lost cause like Rika. It's sweet that you want to help her, and you're doing everything to help her succeed as a hunter, but if she's scoring incredibly low as a Hunter already, then it's very likely that she's on the wrong career path."
You hug your knees to your chest, resting your chin on your knees as you mull over Sylus's explanation. When Rika first approached you, she was full of excitement and joy. But when she approached you earlier today about her weekly progress, she was in tears and couldn't get a single word out. Even though it's not your fault, you can't help but feel like you're partially responsible for it.
"Yeah, what Sylus said! It's a miracle that she even made it into the Hunters Association in the first place!" Rafayel interjects, shoving a spoonful of rice into his mouth. "It's a skill issue on her part, let's be honest," Rafayel says with his mouth full of rice.
"I still can't help but feel partly responsible for all of this." You mumble.
"[Y/N]…" Caleb says, disappointment evident on his face.
You cover your face. "I know I shouldn't feel this way, but I can't help it!" You whine, wanting to evaporate on the spot.
Xavier leaves his spot and walks to where you're sitting. He pulls out your chair and wraps his arms around your shoulder, pulling you towards his stomach. You huff, hugging Xavier while he gently pats your head. Dinner ends up being quiet, with mostly the boys talking and you spacing out. Valko and Rafayel try to distract you from your inner turmoil.
"Maybe petting my tail will make you feel better. Unless you prefer to pet my ears?" Valko says, scooping you up into his arms after dinner, walking to your couch, and collapsing on it.
You contemplate for a minute, staring at Valko's wagging tail and wiggling ears. You reach up to his ears, gently petting the back of them. Valko's tail starts thumping against the couch as he leans into your touch, almost lying on top of you at this point. You giggle, falling over now that Valko has put his entire weight on you. He has his arms wrapped around your waist, chin resting on your chest as you're petting and massaging his ears.
"How come he gets to snuggle her now, and we have to wait for our turn?" Rafayel mutters, crossing his arms over his chest with a pout.
Valko's watching the creases between your eyebrows smooth over as you continue to pet his ears. His tail is full on wagging, eagerly snuggling against you to receive your full attention. You can't help but laugh at how adorable Valko is. Valko practically cages you against the couch, now lying on top of you, crushing you with his weight.
Xavier's about to protest, but Sylus holds him back, shaking his head. "This is the first time we've seen her laugh and smile since she returned home from her training session with Rika. As much as I hate to say it, let them have their moment." Sylus mutters to the mildly miffed Prince.
While you're occupied with petting Valko's ears and being smothered by the muscular werewolf, your phone buzzes on the countertop, alerting the other five men. They all gather around your phone, peeking at who's calling you at around this hour. Despite running into her once, everyone sighs and pinches the bridge of their nose at the sight of the caller ID. It's no surprise that the caller is Rika.
Rika's call ends up going to voicemail. Everyone blinks, and your phone lights up again with the same caller ID. How many times has she called you before Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Caleb, and Xavier heard the buzzing? Again, the call goes to voicemail after twenty-five seconds, and the screen goes black. Your phone buzzes, but not from a phone call, but from a text message.
"Hey, [Y/N]! Want to help me train tomorrow?"
"[Y/N]? Are you there? You usually never ignore my texts unless you're extremely busy, but it's late now, so idk why you're ignoring my text messages?"
"Hey, partner! I called you, like, fifteen times already. Can you at least call me back when you can?"
Xavier pokes the text messages, and a ton of messages pop up beneath the most recent message. Xavier collapses the notifications and sees a notification of 9+ calls from Rika. Rafayel snatches your phone from the countertop and turns on do not disturb mode, silencing any incoming calls or texts from Rika. That should do it, right?
Rafayel plops your phone back on the counter, letting out an exasperated sigh. "At this point, I don't blame [Y/N] if she muted the calls and texts from Rika specifically," Rafayel mutters.
A few days go by, and you're able to enjoy your time with the men you hold near and dear to your heart without any interruptions or distractions. When Rafayel put your phone on do not disturb mode, he later advised you to put Rika's text messages and phone calls on mute for your peace of mind. You were on the fence about it at first, but after taking some time to think about it, you eventually agreed and put all of Rika's texts and calls on mute after replying to a few of her messages.
"It's not your job to protect people's feelings, you know. Rika's been putting a lot of stress on you, and it's best for you to minimize contact with her." Caleb reassured you one day.
"Don't feel bad for putting yourself first. You've been prioritizing Rika's feelings over yours, and it's taking a huge toll on you." Zayne murmurs.
Now you're at Twinkle Toys playing claw machines with the six men, your phone tucked away in Zayne's pocket to prevent you from checking your phone and feeling guilty over not texting and calling Rika back. While you're cheering for Caleb and Sylus on the claw machines, something in the distance catches your attention. You pause and peek from behind the claw machine, only to see someone with a hairstyle similar to yours. Heck, not only that, but they're wearing the exact style of clothing you would wear.
"What the?" You blurt out, catching the others' attention.
Sylus and Caleb stop what they're doing, trying to get a glimpse of what you're staring at. Sylus laughs in disbelief, crossing his arms over his chest while Caleb frowns, glaring at the person who looks eerily similar to you from afar.
"Oh, would you look at that. It looks like we have a copycat in our hands," Sylus mutters, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.
Xavier strokes his chin. "Is this what Rika meant when she said she wanted to be like you when we first met her? She wanted to be you the entire time."
Without a second thought, you gather everyone far away from where Rika is standing, panic coursing through your veins. This has to be a funny coincidence, right? There's no way Rika is trying to be you! What Xavier said has to be an exaggeration. As much as you're trying to reassure yourself that it's a weird coincidence, you feel your sanity start slipping away rapidly.
"Is she okay?" Rafayel panics, trying to get your attention, but you keep glancing over where Rika was standing before walking off.
"Snap out of it," Sylus says, snapping his fingers in front of your face.
You squeeze your eyes shut, taking deep breaths. Just when you thought someone genuinely looked up to you as a role model, only to find out that they're trying to be you, not like you. Your heart thuds painfully against your chest, forcing you to take deep breaths. Zayne guides you to a chair in Twinkle Toys, kneeling before you with his hands covering yours.
"You're alright, just take a deep breath," Zayne reassures you, gently squeezing your hands.
Caleb hands you a bottle of water, gently rubbing your back as you chug the water. How can you not freak out about someone wanting to become you? Everything leading up to this moment makes you wonder if this was Rika's plan the entire time. Getting hired at the Hunters Association, running into you at the Association, befriending you, having you train her to help her rank up and transfer to the Alpha Team, etc.?
Children and teens run past your little group, screaming and laughing as they carry their plushies around Twinkle Toys. You lean forward, resting your head on Zayne's shoulders. The more you think about it, the more exhausted you become.
"Wanna go home, pipsqueak?" Caleb asks, rubbing your back.
You peek from Zayne's shoulders, sighing. "I do, but I also hate going home without getting any plushies…" You trail off, looking around at the claw machines that are filled with brand new plushies and trinkets.
"We can stay a little longer, and when we win a plushie or two, we can leave after! How does that sound?" Valko asks, gently caressing your head.
You immediately agree to Valko's suggestion. Xavier, Rafayel, and Valko are stationed at different claw machines to win you different types of plushies, while Sylus, Caleb, and Zayne are by your side, keeping you company. The once empty spot in your arms gradually becomes occupied by plushies. Rafayel is very stubborn, so every time he loses a plushie, that fuels the competitive side of him.
"You're going to spend the rest of your coins on this specific claw machine?" Valko mutters, peeking over at the dwindling coins.
Rafayel huffs, keeping his eyes on the claw machine in front of him. "Of course not! I'm just making sure I get this plushie in every color for [Y/N], then after that, I'll switch to another claw machine and repeat the process!" Rafayel replies.
You clear your throat, walking up to Rafayel with loads of plushies in your arms. "You don't need to get me one in every color, Rafayel. One is enough." You say.
But of course, Rafayel doesn't listen to you, not when it comes to claw machines because he needs to get you every single plushie. What kind of not-boyfriend would he be if he didn't get you everything!? To add fuel to the fire, Valko and Xavier are doing the same thing as he is, and it's not helping Rafayel in the slightest. The sight of your sparkling eyes every time a new plushie is added to the pile in your arms, it makes it harder for Rafayel, Valko, and Xavier to stop what they're doing.
By the time the trio chooses to end their silent competition, you're swimming in plushies. It got to the point where Caleb had to find a bag for you to keep all of the plushies in because you keep dropping them, and it's a lot for you to hold! You could have Zayne, Caleb, and Sylus hold the plushies, but you wanted to hold the plushies until you didn't have any more space for the new additions.
"How are you feeling? I hope these plushies cheered you up." Xavier says, wrapping his arms over your shoulder, guiding you out of Twinkle Toys.
You smile, leaning against him. "I feel a teeny bit better, all thanks to you guys." You reach up and pat Xavier's head.
After leaving Twinkle Toys, everyone is determined to keep you distracted and not let your mind wander back to the fact that Rika is trying to become you. The rest of the day consists of your bedroom being redecorated and freeing up some space for the new additions to your plushie army. Sylus insists that you get a bookshelf so you can display them like trophies, but you can't do that right now, at least.
"The bookshelves will arrive at your place tomorrow morning after you wake up," Sylus says, tucking his phone into his pocket.
"Are you going to help me assemble it and organize the plushies on the shelves?" You tease Sylus, poking him in the chest.
Sylus chuckles, shaking his head. "Of course, I am. What kind of person would I be if I didn't help you?" Sylus murmurs, pulling you towards his chest and resting his chin on your head. "Besides, I'll make sure all of the Grumpy Crows are at the very top of the shelf. The others will be on the lower shelves."
As you're snuggling up against Sylus, Caleb takes a peek at your phone and opens the messaging app to see that you have 99+ notifications from Rika. Out of pure curiosity, Caleb makes sure to turn off the read receipts so Rika won't know that you (and the others) read her messages.
"Why are you going through her phone?" Zayne asks, crossing his arms over his chest, scrutinizing Caleb.
Caleb scoffs. "I haven't gone through her phone yet, Zayne. Aren't you curious about what Rika's been sending to [Y/N] ever since she distanced herself from Rika?" Caleb asks, waving your phone in front of Zayne's face.
The men start crowding around your phone, reading through the messages Rika sent to you. Despite having the texts and calls on mute, you still reply to Rika, but not as much as you usually do. The responses on your end feel a bit dry compared to the previous ones you've sent. Then pictures start appearing in the chat.
Selfies of Rika with a new hairstyle that's a bit too similar to your current hairstyle. She even did her makeup the way you do yours, and sent you an "outfit of the day" picture—again, very similar to how you would dress when you're not on the clock as a Hunter. Xavier takes your phone from Caleb's hand and starts texting Rika.
"Xavier, what are you doing?" Rafayel asks cautiously.
Xavier shakes his head. "Nothing! I'm just going to ask Rika why she changed her style, that's all."
You look over where the others are huddling, shooting a look at Sylus, who shrugs in response to your questioning look. You approach the others, arms over your chest.
"What are you guys doing over there?" You ask, startling the five of them.
Valko clears his throat. "It turns out that Rika wanted you to know that her style has changed. Quite drastically, may I add." Valko takes your phone from Xavier's hand and waves your phone in front of your face.
You take your phone from Valko's hands, reading the texts that she sent to you over the past few days. Rika did tell you about the changes, and even sent before and after pictures of her new hairstyle. Shit, she even changed her hair color to look like yours, and the colors are similar, but not exact. You notice that in a few of her pictures, she's also doing similar poses that you would do when you're taking solo pictures (like an outfit picture or selfies).
"Maybe if I become you, I will be able to switch to the Alpha Team, right? :)" Is what she sent in one of her messages with an image of her selfie and outfit picture attached.
You scroll all the way down to the most recent message to see that you, allegedly, sent Rika a message. It's very direct, unlike your previous messages to Rika leading up to you muting her calls and texts.
"Why did you change your style all of a sudden? I almost didn't recognize you anymore, Rika."
A gray chat bubble appears, letting you know that Rika is typing something. The message was sent less than two minutes ago, and Rika is already responding to the message one of the men sent to her. As you're watching the chat bubble appear and disappear, everyone starts gathering around you, waiting to see what Rika says.
"Good things seem to always come to you, [Y/N], and I can't help but feel envious of you. So many amazing things happened to you, and you somehow made it to the Alpha Team even though you were a rookie at the Hunters Association. The cosmos are always in your favor, lining things up for you. I look up to you, yes, but that's not enough. You trained me and tried to help me, but it wasn't helping me become the Hunter I deserve to be, you know? So I thought that maybe if I switch my style up a bit, and mirror the person I admire, maybe I will achieve my goals of becoming a part of the Alpha Team."
You turn to the others, eyebrows furrowing. "I understand that she wants to achieve her dreams of becoming part of the Alpha Team, but…" You trail off, turning your phone off and tossing it onto your bed. "The way Rika claimed that good things always come to me leaves a bad taste in my mouth."
You sit on the edge of your bed, rubbing your throbbing temples as the others start migrating over to where you're sitting. They stand before you, watching you worriedly, unsure of what to do or how to help. Rika is (probably) in too deep at this point, and it's not going to be easy to snap her out of it. Right?
Rafayel chimes, "We can get her fired for trying to impersonate you!"
You snort at Rafayel's suggestion. "That's a bit too far, Rafayel."
"But impersonating you isn't going too far?" Zayne raises his eyebrows at you.
"I'm sure there are other ways to confront Rika about this without having her terminated from the Hunters Association. Besides, I doubt changing your hair and clothing style is worthy of a termination." You murmur, hugging your knees to your chest.
You're tempted to text Rika to meet up with you at Azure Square a few days from now to talk to her, but now you're not sure if you should. Everything about her message feels strange to you, and you can't shake the feeling off no matter how much you try to. As far as you know, it's you, Sylus, Caleb, Rafayel, Xavier, Valko, and Zayne who are aware of Rika's sudden change of appearance.
You're not entirely sure how close Rika is with Tara, Nero, and Andrew because you hardly see her hanging around the three of them despite working in Data Analysis with them. As for Simone, you know they're not remotely close with each other because they barely crossed paths at the Association.
"What's the plan, pipsqueak?" Caleb asks, throwing his arm around your shoulders.
You take a deep breath, sighing dramatically. "The only option I have in mind is to meet up with Rika—somewhere public—and confront her about it."
"What's there to confront when Rika already told you about her intentions?" Sylus mutters, almost rolling his eyes. "Besides, with people like her, you have to play dirty."
"What do you suggest then?" You cross your arms over your chest, raising your eyebrows at him.
"You already let her into a portion of your life, and she knows almost everything. You need to start lying to Rika about what you do when you train, what your hobbies are, and maybe change your style up a bit." Sylus lists, crossing his arms over his chest.
The others start throwing ideas into the mix, agreeing with what the other person says. Rafayel pulls out a whiteboard from thin air, writing down ideas and schemes for the next time you and Rika meet up. Valko hands you your phone and instructs you to text Rika about your next hangout with her. You hesitate for a minute, unsure if you want to see her in person. How can you not feel strange about meeting up with someone who completely changed their style and looks simply because they wanted to be you?
"By the way, you won't be alone in this. When you go and hang out with Rika, we'll be watching from a distance and giving you intel." Valko comments, tossing intercoms at each person.
You blink. "Intel? We're dealing with a copycat, not someone from EVER." You snort, fidgeting with the intercom.
"You're right, but remember, this is someone who's trying to become you. You don't know how many screws are loose in that head of hers."
You sigh, plopping on your bed and listening to them come up with an elaborate plan. You start texting Rika about meeting up with her to hang out at Azure Square. A bubble immediately appears at the bottom of the screen: Rika agrees to meet up with you, but wants to know when the hangout will take place.
"When will we meet up with her?" You look up from your phone, waiting for someone to give you the time and date.
Xavier crosses his arms over his chest. "Tomorrow at 9 AM. It will be at Azure Square, specifically in front of the new boba shop Tara told you about. There are seats outside the shop, so we can hang around while you and Rika are inside chatting."
You give Xavier a thumbs up before typing in the time and location of the hangout. Immediately, Rika agrees to the hangout with glee (you know because of the emojis she attached to her response). You shut off your phone, putting it face down on your bed. You're not looking forward to tomorrow, but at the same time, you can't let Rika continue with whatever this is. Who knows, maybe the whole thing is harmless, and it was all in your head?
Note: Maybe my next LADS fic will mainly focus on Valko because I want to write something for him, but I don't know much about his personality to be able to write for him. My first draft was Valko-centered with the other love interests in the fic, but I struggled with it so much that I had to scrap it. I'll probably bring that fic back, but I need to be able to plan it out before I do type it. BRING VALKO BACK TO ME INFOLD :( Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except for the listed sites!
Read more of my works on my Grand Masterlist, which contains every masterlist I have created! Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories there, too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^
He wants to tell you that, tell you that you're all of his dreams combined into one, you're made of stardust
It starts simple enough.
You're washing the dishes, handing him a plate and he catches you off guard with a kiss. You giggle, he chuckles, takes in the way you blush, and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear so he can see your smile. He sets the plate aside after drying it, and then you turn to him and he wants to make you giggle one more time so he grabs you by the waist, you gasp and he kisses you again, a little slower this time, getting lost in the way you fall into him.
It doesn't go unnoticed the scent of jasmine on your skin, and he swears you drive him insane.
It's his fault, after all, for giving you that massage in the middle of the night, that jasmine essential oil he bought being put to work perfectly.
When you break apart you're flushed and out of breath and he's smiling.
You shake your head, biting your bottom lip, and going back to the dishes. He stands next to you, waiting patiently for the next plate, except he can't focus on anything but you. Your delicate features, the way your hair frames your face, how soft and vulnerable you look even though you can bring the house down with just your fists.
You steal a glance at him and then looks down, grinning.
"Don't give me that look," you say.
"What look?"
"The one you're giving me."
"I feel like you're accusing me of something here, darling."
"I'm serious. I have work, you have work, Aurora will be back from school in a couple of hours…"
"Hmmhm," Zayne starts. "We're very busy people."
You laugh at that, playfully shoving him to the side with your hips.
Deep inside his heart there's a tendency to shatter his own happiness, but this time he knows how to keep it locked, this tendency, knows how to keep it away from your laughter and his peace, the daughter you gave him, he knows how to appreciate the moment without feeling like it will go away in the next second, he's learned his lesson and it's even clearer when your laughter resonates around his fears, the tender sound of you voice making him warm, you always do this, you're his world, after all, you're his.
He wants to tell you that, tell you that you're all of his dreams combined into one, you're made of stardust, but talking isn't one of his strongest suits so he shuts the tap on the sink and when you turn to question him, he lifts ypu up and sets you on the counter, your legs on each side of him as he stands in the middle, towering over you.
Your cheeks go red, even after all this time, your cheeks go red, your hands tremble, he's the love of your life and he takes your hand in his and leans closer. You're chanting his name when his lips go back to yours, and he feels a shiver when your legs wrap around his body as he deepens the kiss so you can both feel it in your bones.
Through it all he thinks that if he could measure his devotion for you then it'd stretch all the way to the moon and back twice, it'd cause chaos in the entire galaxy and he wouldn't mind a bit, not when it means that he can have you like this, stay here to make you laugh and giggle every day for the rest of his life, he wouldn't mind a little chaos, no.
He can't resist trailing his kisses along your neck, biting and licking and leaving red marks and then going all the way to your mouth to hear you moan and hold on to him, your hands on his shoulders for balance, it's okay, he's got you safe and sound.
You bring out this impulsiveness in him at the same time you keep him grounded. The urgency he's feeling right now, the one that's going straight through his body, reverberating through his ribs, accelerating his heart, is a blessing.
Your fingers tugging lightly at his hair, you make him look at you, his forehead against yours, erratic breathing and electrified limbs.
He grabs your shorts by the waist line, swiftly undoes the button and pulls them down, discarding them to the side. He takes a moment to admire you; black cropped top, pink cotton panties, hair a mess, chest heaving, and you're gorgeous in the way dangerous things are.
Looking for approval, he steals another kiss, slides off your panties and grabs your legs. He brings you closer to the edge of the counter, wanting to tease you first. He lowers himself a bit, smiles at you as you wait with your mouth hanging open, yearning and burning for what's about to happen.
He wastes absolutely no time in eating you out, his tongue on your clit, licking and sucking, swriling around until you're gasping, holding his hair to guide him, keep him there, right there in the middle of your legs, and he loves it because you taste so sweet, so fucking sweet, he has never tasted anything as good.
Honeysuckle, you're close to screaming, calling his name, warning him that you're close. That's when he stops, and you swear at first, pouting as he laughs mischievously, but then you relax, take a deep breath as he comes back up to you. You're the one who doesn't let him say anything this time, the one who pulls him into a kiss to taste yourself on his tongue.
"Here?" he asks, mainly to be certain.
You nod, say:
"Here, anywhere," your tone low and shaky. "Please."
He wants your mouth on him too, but you don't have much time, so he unzips his pants, lowers them down to his thighs along with his boxers.
He holds his cock by the base, he's hard and aching, and he rubs the head on your sensitive clit to see you gasp, throw your head back and beg him to stop being so mean.
He complies, he's mean, oh so mean, yet he slides into you and you throw your arms around his neck. He's slow and gentle at first, your legs wrapped around him and his hands on your waist, you're almost off the counter but he's holding you steady, like always, he's got you.
His thrusts are calculated, one, two, three and then he holds himself deep inside you, both of you moaning and grunting at the feeling. His rythm is good, focused, and he feels like melting inside you every time you say his name.
"Please please please please please Zayne," your words are rushed and messy and needy.
It drives him crazy, he picks up the pace, goes faster and harder like you want him to. You hold on to him, trusting him with everything.
His thrusts start to grow frantic, he pounds into you until you're losing any sense of reality, saying his name, begging for more, telling him how good he feels, you're so full, he's thick and big and so fucking hard, fingernails digging at the shirt he didn't even bother to take off, you're so close, he's close too, and he can't help his own moans, can't help burying his mouth on your neck, losing himself in you.
Your orgasm sneaks up on you and you come, squeezing around him and opening your mouth in a silent cry, and then he's next, thrusts erratic, shallow, unfocused, desperate until he's going still inside you and filling you up, knowing he's the only one who gets to do this, the only one who gets to see you like this.
After a moment where he kisses you and then plants a small kiss at the tip of your nose, he carefully slips out of you, pulls his pants up and when you're still in a haze and catching your breath, you smile, watching him, contemplating the mess around you, some dirty dishes still in the sink.
"This is your fault," you say, laughing. "You know that, right?"
He chuckles, not daring to move. Not yet.
"Why?"
"That look."
"You don't like that look?"
"You know I do," you say, blushing and grinning. "C'mon, we need to hurry."
He helps you off the counter, grabs your shorts and panties, unable to hide the proud smile on his face as he helps you get dressed. He brushes a few strands of hair away from your eyes with his fingers, plants a kiss on your forehead and then one on your lips again. You hug him, your face on his chest, eyes closed, and he holds you tightly. Dirty dishes in the sink or not, it's just the two of you in the world right now.
Sometimes he feels like the both of you can stop time.
---
a/n: writing away my frustrations in the middle of this crisis.
i have two fics written about their daughter here and here :)
summary: in which you tell the lads boys (who are your controversially close bffs) that you were cheated on.
ft. xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, caleb & valko
notes: all of the guys are lovely and want you…that’s kinda the whole thing i fear. no explicit mentions of gender (!!!), mentions of cheating (obvi), perhaps minor indications of violence…but that’s it (i think).
p.s. i cannot stop making xavier use the sun emoji so like sorry but also not rlly that much bc it’s too fucking funny to me
a/n: should i make this one a series let me know…hehe…ty for reading (- -)(_ _)
what does a saturday morning look like with the lads men ... together ?
tags : polyamorous relationship , fluff only , drabble , not proof read
it is saturday, this much you are certain of by how loud the ruckus is in the living room. your blackout blinds are still down, fully shielding you from the sun and the start of the weekend. you blink your eyes slowly, still in between sleepiness and getting awake. right behind you is xavier. his strong arms are wrapped tightly around your waist and his little snores tickle the back of your neck.
you have no idea when he got in your bedroom, but for now, you're not complaining and allow yourself to bathe in his warmness, his usual scent of detergent and lemon fills your nose. xavier always smelled so clean and good. of course, while you are trying to enjoy this cute snuggly moment, the ruckus outside only seemed to grow louder.
muffled voices, clanking sounds, loud footsteps -- any normal person would think that they were being robbed. but no, not you. you ain't normal. not when your love life involves five guys. five possessive, jealous, protective men. and sometimes, they were annoying (this is said out of love).
''rise and shine, pipsqueak!''
that's fucking caleb. of course he is hollering at ... you try to subtly twist your body on the side to look at the clock, careful to not wake xavier up (though nothing really wakes him up). freakin 9:30 in the morning. on a saturday. and he's already yelling.
within a minute, caleb gives three firm knocks and barges in -- not even waiting for your answer. his smile is bright and full of life, his eyes gleaming with completely adoration at your sight until he sees xavier. his eyes literally darkened with irritation as he closed the distance and harshly tug on xavier's pajama shirt.
''get away from her, you stupid alien'', caleb seethes as he continues to tug. not long after, zayne comes in the bedroom wearing an apron. his eyes narrow in annoyance as he whispers to caleb to quiet down as to not wake you up so early.
the damage is already done and too late though. zayne glanced down at you and his scowl disappears instantly. his gaze softens as apology before he walks to the other side and bends down, pressing a gentle kiss on your cheek.
''good morning, my love'', he soothes down your hair as his thumb caresses your cheek tenderly, ''go back to sleep. i'll wake you up for breakfast after.''
caleb had stopped tugging on xavier (who is still stubbornly ''asleep'' and clinging to you) and joined zayne beside. his earlier outrage at xavier seemed to have vanished entirely as he smiles widely at you : ''pipsqueak''.
caleb's tone, when talking to you, is always so full of gentleness and playfulness. you can practically feel love pouring out of his entire body whenever he looks at you. like an excited dog awaiting its owner's return. his hand reaches out to you gently and he caresses your cheek. if you didn't know caleb any better, you'd think that his gesture is sweet, romantic, cute. but don't be fooled.
he's just wiping zayne's kiss without explicitly saying it.
zayne turns and tries to push caleb out of your bedroom, hushing him as he glanced back at you one more time, a small smile plastered on his face just for you. always just for you. before caleb is kicked out, rafayel stops dead in front of the door. zayne groans in frustration and pinches the bridge of his nose, a gesture you've seen him do on a daily basis towards the others.
''caleb, you idiot ! why did you throw my paintbrushes !'' ; rafayel yells, his fists clenched as he looks over caleb's shoulder and notices you. the lemurian god, entirely capable of solving this problem by himself, decides to push past the two men and stomp his way to your figure. he points accusingly at caleb and pouts : ''cutie, he threw my paintbrushes. i just bought them, he's triyng to salvage my inspiration and creativity !''
you also know better rafayel better than others : caleb did not throw his paintbrushes out. caleb would never clean after the other men. he only cleans after you, for you. the others can take care of themselves. it's either rafayel threw it out by accident, the paintbrushes are hidden under his own mess, or he threw it all out (and decided to accuse caleb) so he can use it as an excuse to shop for more with you, together.
knowing rafayel, the last scenario is very much plausible.
''they are so loud, baby'', xavier mumbles against your shoulder before pressing a soft kiss. you can't help but grin at all this ridiculous drama. and yet, you'd trade nothing in the world to miss this. these small moments where chaos erupts, but genuine love is felt from all of them. xavier grabs this opportunity where the 3 men are quarreling to press another featherly kiss at your shoulder, slowly kissing his way down to your arm. chills travel down your spine as xavier covers any exposed skin with butterfly kisses, his touches so gentle and tender but the bulge pressing against your ass isn't.
''hey ! stop this, you pervert !''
rafayel practically yanks xavier's shirt while caleb forcefully takes the blanket off. the soft material rips and everyone stops moving.
''good heavens, this is the 3rd blanket you ripped, caleb. can't control your own strength ?'' zayne says, clearly frustrated now. he takes the blanket from caleb's grip and glances at you. he knows you love this one, and he also knows how difficult it is to find one that is suitable for your sensitive skin.
he adjusts his glasses and extends his hand, his gaze leaving no place for argument : ''let's go, my love. let them be, i'll buy another one for you. tonight, you can sleep with me, my blanket is practically the same hypoallergenic material.''
you try to grab his hand but xavier's hold around your waist is iron and unwilling to let you go. caleb scoffs and rolls his eyes at zayne : ''nice try, zayne. pretending to be the good guy, you're sick.''
zayne feigns innocence as he tries to separate xavier away from you ; ''i'm just trying to help Y /N. she has sensitive skin and can easily get an allergic reaction. it happened last time.'' zayne says factually, his tone cold towards caleb. he didn't bother looking at his childhood friend as he continues to pry xavier (the leech) off.
''and why would she choose your blanket ? mine is the same material too.'' caleb argues, crossing his arms as he glares at the doctor. rafayel goes behind xavier and tries to headlock him, in hopes of ending this idiot's life, who has the audacity to touch his bride.
''at night, she needs to rest. your mouth can't shut up.'' zayne replies, deadpan.
by some miracle, rafayel managed to get xavier to release you (probably because he was about to pass out). zayne practically carried you right away. he'll protect you no matter what, and he knows you're safest with him.
''put her down, i'll help her get ready and you can go back to the kitchen'', caleb snaps at the doctor as he turns his attention to you. immediately, his mood switches and he beams a bright charming smile : ''whaddya say, pips ? i have a new body lotion, i can put it for you.''
before zayne can even reply on your behalf, a laughter erupts behind the men. sylus, leaning against your door, stares at you. his ruby eyes glow with amusement and mischief : ''quite a circus show you have there, kitten.''
he bends down to pick the blanket up from the floor before he toss it on the side : ''i'm the one who bought this. i'll go out shopping with my kitten after. she deserves to be spoiled today, right sweetie ?"
rafayel stops fighting with xavier and stares menacingly at sylus : " she's already going to shop with me after. we need to get more paintbrushes". the lemurian god crosses his arms and turns towards you : "right, cutie?"
before you can even respond, sylus interrupts. he feigns to be interested in his nails and rings, his tone nonchalant though you know he is hoping you will choose him over paintbrush shopping (which is boring and ridiculous in his mind). clearly, his kitten wouldn't want to waste her time with a fishie, right ?
"you don't need more paintbrushes."
"yes, i do."
"no, you don't."
"yes, i do."
"no, you don't. you barely even paint."
"because someone took my muse away. you bastards have been hoarding her for so long, i've lost my creativity !"
"that's what a bad artist would say."
"how dare you, bird face ? what do you even know about art, anyway ?"
"I'm the one who buys them, so yes -- i do know about art."
their bickering went back and forth for a while, their voices acting as background noises. zayne carried you to the bathroom and slammed it shut before caleb (or xavier) could sneak inside. while you were getting ready to start your day, their voices and presences continued on in the back.
and honestly, that was what home and love felt like.
y'all, my single lonely ass had too much fun writing this. giggling while writing, felt like i was going insane lol anyway, hope y'all enjoyed it as much as i did
Hi! I hope you're having a good day 💕. Mine, on the other hand, isn't—I just had my wisdom teeth pulled and it hurts TERRIBLY. How would the LI's take care of us? It makes me laugh to imagine the faces they'd make if they saw how wisdom teeth are pulled; honestly, it was a pretty shocking sight, even though I didn't feel a thing.
wisdom teeth removal
here ya go :) a bit late sorry lol but i hope you fully recovered and that all went well !
tags : zayne , caleb , sylus , xavier , rafayel x reader (separate) , fluff , just the sweet lads taking good care of us , modern AU
zayne
you already know how the dentist is literally one of zayne's enemies. just a simple teeth cleaning is torture for zayne, so he doesn't even want to know the details of how wisdom teeth are removed lol
his main priority is to soothe your pain and remind you of how infections can easily develop. he'll take the extra step to cook for you, all liquid / soft foods for a while (and don't worry, whatever zayne cooks are filled with good nutrients)
i do believe that he'll use this opportunity to tease you a little bit about how he can freely eat cold sweets, like ice cream, cake, pastries ... he isn't exactly rubbing it in your face, but kind of lol
in all honestly, i do think that zayne will be a bit more concerned and worried out of all the lads, as he knows just how painful the treatment and recovery can be for a while
will absolutely be down to clean the bleeding in your mouth. blood doesn't disgust him anyway, it's part of his job as doctor
caleb
similar to zayne, will not hesitate to cook soft and liquid food for you. he'll even insist that you stop all kinds of activity / movements, because it can increase pain (he's just exaggerating so he can dote on you even more)
will take videos of you if you are under anesthesia lol even if you aren't, he's filming you. will tease you about how you look like a cute hamster, your cheeks are puffed up
every time you ask him for something, he's imitating back your voice in a baby tone, just to annoy you lol
all joking aside, caleb will always make sure that you are ok. he'll do whatever you ask, so take advantage of him (please do, it might make him happier than you)
sylus
i sincerely believe that sylus would try to convince you and the dentist to remove one wisdom teeth at a time (if it is multiple) lol he can't stand seeing you in pain and would absolutely try to avoid too much procedure
he'll be a lot more irritated at the dentists staff (unfortunately) than you'd think ; in his mind, if you are under too much pain, then it means that the dentist did not do a proper job (that's not how it works though, sylus ...)
y'all better believe that sylus isn't letting you off his lap until you fully recover. i believe that internally, he's panicking more than zayne lol he won't let his worry show (to not burden you) but his actions are rooted deep in concern for your health. he'll say something along the line of : if you walk kitten, it can aggravate the pain. there is no need to be strong right now, just rest and let me take care of you sweetie
sylus is like those helicopter pet owners, you know ? their pet is injured and the owner is already grieving lol
xavier
the calmest one out of all the lads lol not because he is nonchalant (we all know he really is far from it) but because he feels kind of ... helpless ?
xavier doesn't want to voice it out, but he genuinely doesn't really have a clue on how to help you. he'll watch videos about the procedure of wisdom teeth removals, the recovery process, the risks of infections, people posting about their own journey, etc ... but still, at the end, everyone is different on what their own recovery journey looks like
definitely the quiet type, rather than trying to make jokes (like caleb) or lecture you (like zayne). xavier can be quite ... intense, when he gets into his calm and quiet role lol
it's like he's staring dead at you, just waiting for you to tell him what you need. it's like he is dissociating from stress lol obviously, even if he isn't too knowledgeable about this, you can still expect xavier to take good care of you
warm blankets, hot and warm foods ready at all times, painkillers, ice pack to help with the swelling, house chores all done
he'll also insist that you sleep on top of him, so that it can help with ''swelling and bleeding'' (totally unrelated, but can you deny him with his cute puppy eyes?)
you can always forget about leaving xavier's line of sight. he'll contain his own need to run a strict program, but don't test his patience. if his own stress and concern overrides his self-restraint, he'll actually become quite dominant and strict / mean (daddy xavier)
rafayel
sincerely believes that it's a dumb procedure and thinks the dentist is just trying to scam people for more money lol
will absolutely crash out if the staff are not giving you the proper queen treatment. rafayel is the type to go on their website and leave a nasty comment (if he deems their behavior unprofessional lol)
while rafayel might be loud and dramatic, he actually is very good at taking care of people. more than what others think
he won't actively voice it out, but concern is rooted deep in his brain and he can't rest properly until he sees you resting
he'll nag and complain about the entire situation (not you, never you), but things are done and you are taken care of. he's very similar to zayne when it comes to taking care of you : clinical, dependable, efficient and strict
he'll pretend to be disgusted at the sight of blood, but will absolutely crash out if you dare change your own gauze, or try to eat by yourself. he'll insist on spoon feeding you
(Doing laundry & dishes with Xavier; Sylus picking you up after work and doing your skincare routine; grocery shopping with Caleb and cooking together; gardening with Rafayel; Zayne leaving sticky notes around his house for you when he's out, and carrying you to bed when you fall asleep on the couch.)
xavier, sylus, caleb, rafayel, zayne ♡ gn!reader
warnings: established relationship, not proofread, petnames ("sweetie" from sylus, "pips" from caleb), reader is mc but gender neutral, nonsexual intimacy (kissing, sleeping in the same bed)
notes: IM ON A GENERATIONAL WRITING RUN RN!!! Also sorry if there are tons of grammatical errors i wrote this maniacally with nothing but a keyboard and a dream
Doing laundry together, washing dishes—and it wouldn't be Xavier if there weren't a good nap thrown in the mix, of course!
"Xavier," you mumble, drowsy. "Xavier, I can't get up."
With his entire body splayed on top of yours, Xavier is, pun intended, out like a light. His mouth hangs slightly agape, the side of his face pressed against your collarbone.
"Xavier," you say again, trying to nudge him. "Xavier."
His eyes flutter open, half-lidded, as he stares at you with those soft-blue eyes of his, the glossiness of sleep layering his irises like glass. Through the panes, you can make out the tenderness of his pupils, dilating ever-so slightly, your figure carving a spot into its refracting light.
He closes his eyes again. You sigh.
"Xavier."
Nothing.
"Xavier."
Nothing.
"Jeremiah."
He's up.
Xavier's brows furrow, the ends of his lips curled downwards as he stares at you from above, eyes blown wide, arms encaging your figure beneath his, head tilted slightly to the side as he blinks once, twice, thrice.
"Why do you know that name?" he asks, bottom lip slowly jutting out the longer you take to respond.
"We met him at Philo."
"Do you know the names of all the men you meet?"
You laugh. Xavier's expression remains unmoved, his question entirely serious.
"That'd be impossible."
"... So, you've met a lot of other men."
"Yeah," you reply, "that's usually how it goes."
He slumps against your figure, relapsing, as his face digs into the curve of your neck and shoulder, head tilted to the side while trailing kisses around your skin, immovable when you laugh from the ticklish feeling.
"Xavier," you manage to say in between giggly breaths, "Xavier, I was joking."
From his spot, just a little below you, by the base of your neck, he looks up, head tilting, blinking owlishly in that feigned-ignorance-and-pathetic way of his.
"Were you?"
"Of course I was!"
He doesn't budge from his spot as your weighted blanket. Face returning to the crook of your shoulder once more, he just wraps his arms around your torso, pulling you even closer to him, limbs a messy tangle.
"Xavier,"—you prod him, but to no avail—"Xavier, we have to get up. Today is laundry day, remember?"
"Five more minutes," he mumbles, pressing you so close he might as well coalesce into you, "just five..."
He did not, in fact, take "just five minutes."
It was three hours.
But Xavier wastes no time when it comes to taking naps together—upon gathering all of your clothes, he's quick to suggest using the machine's washing time as an opportunity to get more sleep. You dismiss his idea, stating that you have dishes from last night's dinner to wash.
He gives you that look of his—soggy and all—before suggesting, again, to use the time after washing dishes, while the machine is working, to get some more sleep in. You agree. He beams.
Xavier's wardrobe has a running theme of pale colors. Sorting them is relatively easy, with most of his clothes in one pile, your occasional shirt sprinkled in, while the darker colors remain significantly smaller in number.
"What scent should we do this time?" Xavier asks, hand on his chin, surveying your detergent options with the meticulousness of a laundry master. You laugh, and tell him that they all smell good in the end. He nods, but he chooses the scent you've mentioned liking on mutliple occasions, knowing it's your favorite.
(Xavier also likes this scent—he's gotten multiple compliments for it, and once, while out shopping with you, an older woman noted how the two of you had the same fragrance to your clothes. Xavier nodded fervently at the observation, pleased.)
While the laundry is running, the two of you return to last night's dishes. After Xavier scrubs at the plates, you place them into the dishwasher, which, in reality, is just a glorified drying rack.
In between the clatter of glassware and the running of water is your voice, existing with Xavier for longer than it does in the air, your words excited as you recall an incident that happened recently at work.
When you smile, the rhythmic motion comes to a halt, and Xavier's attention parts from the plates to look at you, your figure etched into his pupils, tracing through to his soul, imprinted, fitting the silhouette from centuries ago.
"Is something wrong, Xavier?" you ask, noticing his gaze. He shakes his head.
He just blinks, once, twice, thrice; you really don't know, it seems. The light swept over your face, setting your skin ablaze, its brilliance irrevocable—How beautiful, is all he thinks. How beautiful and lovely and sublime.
(For a moment, he half-considered envying the light, its warmth kissing your skin so simply. Xavier has too many enemies, it seems. Lumiere, sunlight, Jeremiah...)
Later, your dryer sings its cycle completion with a jolly tune. While fetching your clothes, you notice a striking abundance of fluff stuffed throughout the creases of your clothes, your nose wrinkling with confusion as you furrow your brows.
"What's all this?" you mutter, piling all your things into the laundry basket, bundles of cotton falling forth from the dryer.
"Oh," Xavier remarks, hovering beside your shoulder, staring down at the mess. "Bunbun exploded."
"What?!"
Just as he predicted, Bunbun's remains fall from the dryer, its stitching undone as half of its cotton stuffing has been scattered throughout your clothes. Xavier reaches for its floppy face, stretching the malnourished plushie, satisfied.
"Well," you say, picking up the bits of fluff. "Let's feed it."
The two of you hunch over the laundry basket, sifting through your clothes to find each individual piece of fluff, stuffing it back into Bunbun. Now fully nourished, Bunbun stands proud (and round), its unstitched back held shut by Xavier's hand and a dream.
"I don't remember ever putting Bunbun in the laundry," you mutter, folding your clothes. "I thought its washing instructions said not to put it in the dryer..."
"Is that what it said?" Xavier remarks. You glance at him from the corner of your eye, noticing that his gaze is directed towards Bunbun's figure, menacing.
"Did you just try to sabatoge Bunbun, Xavier?"
He turns to you, blinking, his bottom lip jutted out slightly as he tilts his head.
"... No."
"You rejoiced when it exploded!"
"What if," he starts, the slightest hints of a smile tugging at the ends of his lips, his innocent expression shifting to reveal the hints of mischief, "what if I said it was a joke?"
"Are you still hung up on what I said this morning?" you reply, disbelieving.
His eyes don't meet yours.
Sylus picking you up after a long day of work, doing your skincare routine, removing your jewelry before going to sleep.
Rain is a cruel mistress; it seems that it only chooses to appear whenever you're working overtime.
Bracing yourself to weather the storm, you raise one measly hand up to cover the top of your head, the other shielding your bag under the fabric of your coat as you step outside the office, wincing slightly, a bright light reflecting the droplets of rain.
It's a car. A familiar one, at that. Squinting, you can make out the shape, its color, black, and a figure sitting in the driver's seat, the door swinging open, approaching you with such leisure, you half-wonder if it's only raining over you.
You look at Sylus, whose gaze has long-acquainted itself with yours. He tilts his head to the side, a smile—which more resembles a smirk—tugging at his lips, while he unravels the umbrella in his hand.
"You didn't think to use it for yourself?" you ask, the rain no longer meeting your skin, your figure now completely dry whilst Sylus's pearly hair drips with rainwater.
"Not at all," he replies, bemused.
"How'd you know I just finished my work?" you then query, Sylus's free hand reaching to open the passenger door, his head lowering slightly as he leans over your figure, putting your seatbelt on, rain still pelting at his skin and clothes.
"And if I told you it was my intuition?" he says, leaving no room for your response as he closes your door, finding his spot in the driver's seat soon after.
"I wouldn't believe it," you remark.
"Then, you can assume it was something else."
You deadpan. "Isn't that how it works?"
He spares you a smile, one hand on the top of the steering wheel, index finger tapping at the material while eyeing you from across the distance of a center console, its actuality minimal despite the way it feels as though a universe separates you from him.
Amidst the rain, the aux plays a slow, melodic tune.
"Well, it was intuition," he says, other hand reaching at your thigh, thumbing at your skin, his palm warm. "And, in part, a little birdie."
"And my location," you add.
"And your location," he reaffirms, smiling still, its shape less like a smirk and more akin to the look only a man so devotedly in love could ever wear, his eyes crinkling slightly, his expression content, malleable under your gaze.
The two of you return to the N109 Zone, the rain stopping at the edges of the city.
Sylus leaves the car first, circling it to open your door, hand outstretched as he takes your bag.
"I have to do it all over again tomorrow," you mumble, referring to your work, "this endless cycle of abuse..."
Sylus chuckles, free hand reaching for yours, fingers entwined, curling slightly as he squeezes your hand.
"How about you work for me? Luke and Kieran could use a court jester."
"Me?! A court jester?"
He laughs again, thumb now smoothing over the back of your hand, so familiar with its shape.
"Perhaps another role can be negotiated."
"It'd be better if there were no role at all!"
After eating dinner, you half-consider just retiring to bed without removing your sunscreen or jewelry—but Sylus, reading your mind, rests his hands on your shoulders, guiding you to the bathroom without consideration for protest.
"I'm so tired," you say, voice already marred with the beginnings of sleep, your eyes struggling to stay awake. "Let me sleep while greasy..."
"No can do, sweetie," Sylus replies, sitting you down in front of the mirror, washing his hands with soap before removing your sunscreen with some toning pads. "Just bear it for a little, then you can sleep all you want."
His words are succeeded by a quick kiss to your temple.
You've taught him that products should be applied, and removed, to or from the face via circular motions. Sylus, the ever-excellent student, applies what he's learned meticulously, toning pads featherlight against your skin.
The hilt of a gun is so familiar to his callused hands, and the stains of blood which he's grown so used to washing off—but, even better than a comfortable weapon, or the curl of a fist cushioned within a boxing glove, is the feeling of your face within the palm of his hands, the residue of sunscreen staining his fingers, the ease of your brows as he washes away your long-winded day.
Then, his hand reaches for the back of your neck, unclasping your necklace with ease. Another kiss. He leans forward, removing the locks of your earrings, taking the hook gently through the piercing, tucking it neatly into your vanity's—which occupies nearly half of his bathroom—compartment
A third kiss to your well-loved face. He must sneak these in before he applies your skincare, as you've completely banned him from touching your face once your it's on.
"Wash your hands before each step," you mumble, words slurring together as your head lulls forward slightly. Though you can't see it, Sylus's expression shifts to reveal fondness, irrevocable, with the melting of his vermilion eyes, pupils smoldering, heart ablaze.
Leaning forward once more, Sylus presses yet another kiss onto the bone of your cheek.
"My, so demanding."
More words leave your mouth, all incoherent and jumbled, your eyes fluttering shut midsentence. Sylus, quite the opportunist, takes this moment to seal your lips with his, unable to contain the smile which sweeps over his face, its shape attributed to the gentleness of his touch, the softness of the kiss as he settles the skincare score here.
"Anything else?" he asks, beginning the first step of your skincare (not without washing his hands first, of course!), rubbing the product in circular motions. You don't say anything; Sylus continues forward, ever-the-excellent student.
And, when all is done, your head leans against his chest, your breaths slowing as you succumb to slumber. Ever-the-excellent student, Sylus picks you up, hands supporting your legs and back, carrying you to the bed with the stillness of a statue with a mission: not to wake you up.
Grocery shopping with Caleb, taste testing meals, eating together.
"Really?" Caleb asks, disbelieving tone not matching the smile which tugs at his lips. "More instant ramen, Pips?"
Without a morsel of hesitation, you toss the nuclear-4x-spicy-volcano-eruption package into the cart, pleased with yourself as Caleb continues forward, his exasperation half-committed.
"Your stomach's going to hurt if you eat this alone," he remarks, hand outstretched to ruffle your head, the other resting on the shopping cart's handle as to keep it on course. "Get something cool while we're here."
"That's impossible," you reply, marching forward. "I'm invincible!"
While you disappear into the snack aisle, Caleb makes a stop by the freezer section, grabbing you a bundle of ice cream, the flavors your favorite.
You'll thank me later, is all he thinks. Or maybe not. Actually, probably not. You'll chalk the ice cream's presence up to pure luck, downing it after suffering from spice without a single thought as to where it comes from. That's fine too. What matters is that you don't get hurt.
Per your request, Caleb drafted a list of ingredients to buy in order to make your favorite dish—yet, despite not being a necessary component, he finds himself crossing off the words "ice cream" and "instant noodles" from his notes, pocketing his phone soon thereafter.
Watching you sift through the various snacks, Caleb prepares himself to cross off "soda," too. It's routine to him: the order of which you go through the aisles, the items your gaze lingers on versus which ones you haphazardly sweep over, the way you compare your favorite flavors, brows furrowed, lips pursed as you rack your brain.
"They both look good," you mutter, comparing a strawberry soda to a grape one. "I don't know which to choose, though..."
Noticing the way your gaze adorns the pinkish packaging, Caleb thinks today is a strawberry day.
"I guess I'll have to go with strawberry, then!" you exclaim, shelving grape.
"And these," you start, now holding two different bags of chips. "This is a really difficult one..."
Noticing the way your bottom lip presses against your upper one, the way your nose wrinkles from thought, the way your eyes narrow, reading the packaging of both your options—Caleb thinks there really is no need to choose only one.
"Let's get both, then," he suggests, taking both bags from your hands. "Why choose?"
Your expression brightens instantly. "You're a genius, Caleb!"
He laughs. You continue forward, and, with the shopping cart separating your figure from his, Caleb stares. The slight hop to your steps, the way your head tilts whenever you notice cute packaging, the occasional glance over your shoulder, eyes crinkling when you call his name, pointing at some collaboration between your favorite characters and a candy brand.
Your very existence reduces his heart to a trembling thing, twisting his ribs, curling them inwards—and to think you don't even realize that you hold it within your hands.
All your favorite snacks—as well as the ingredients to your favorite dish—secured, the two of you return to Caleb's home, his arms filled with bags while you drink your soda, satisfied.
"Strawberry was the right pick!" you exclaim, holding the drink up to Caleb's lips, tilting it for him to drink. Sugar on his tongue, he hums, watching you race ahead to the door, unlocking it with your key.
The sweetness travels from his mouth to his eyes, circulating throughout his limbs, melting into his chest, your figure submerged within sunset irises, carving out his pupils, vested safely within the chambers of his heart, satiated.
While Caleb toils away at the meal, you offer him moral support in the form of handing him utensils, arm brushing against his as you observe the status of your dish, boiling in the pot.
He puts a spoon up to your lips, head tilting slightly as he asks, "Taste test?"
"It's good!" you say, giving him a thumbs-up for added effect. Caleb just grins, spoon now placed back in the pot, palm pressed against the counter as he leans in, eyes trailing from your eyes to your lips.
"Taste test?" he asks, again, grinning still, eyes fluttering shut when you press your lips against his.
"Also good," you reply, his hand parting from the counter to cup the side of your face, sunset eyes meeting yours.
"One more?"
You laugh. "I'll allow it."
"Thanks for your kindness," he says. Another kiss. The pot bubbles, and Caleb, though reluctant, turns his attention towards it, stirring it slowly.
Caleb examines the quality of his cooking through the expressions which enrapture your face, the way you nod approvingly upon the first bite, the way you save all of the best parts for last. Caleb examines the quality of his cooking through the dishes you leave, how clean the plates are, which sides you ask for more of.
"So?" he says, face leaning against the palm of his hand, his food growing cold while he watches you eat, the sight alone is enough to quell the rumble of his stomach. "What d'ya think, Pips?"
"You outdid yourself this time!" you exclaim in between bites. Caleb, though flattered, hands you a napkin, brows furrowed slightly as he's reminded of a time from your childhood when you choked on your food midsentence.
His lips part to remind you of that time—and to warn you not to eat so quickly—but the glimmer of your eyes, and the way you shift happily in your seat, stomps out all ideas of saying anything at all.
"Aren't you going to eat?" you ask, eyeing his side dish. He slides it over to you, feigning exasperation, reaching over to flick your forehead.
"How greedy," Caleb responds, laughing.
(But your existence drowns in his eyes, and your figure melts into his bones, and the squeeze of your hands are what allow his heart to contract, and oh, your smile, it crinkles your irises, and it scrunches your nose, just a little, and the expression exists with him for longer than it does on your face—and he wants more, and he wants you, and to covet you is the greediest thing any man could ever do.)
"I'm just helping you out," you say while scarfing down your food, "'cause, you know, this isn't thaaat good..."
Caleb laughs again. The clink of dishware, the sound of voices, the existence of two, melding together, pores sinking into pores, love melting into bones—This is it, Caleb thinks.
Everything; right here.
Gardening with Rafayel, pulling out weeds, taking a nap under a tree.
"I'm going to wage war on the weeds," Rafayel declares, sitting flat on the floor, clothes stained with dirt. "They're going to regret natural selection, the fact they evolved, the ancestors they came from, the—"
"Land versus sea," you remark, holding up two weeds, their roots entangled with clumps of dirt. "I think land would win."
"Excuse me?!"
"It's only been an hour," you say, ignoring his look of utter betrayal and disbelief. "Why are you sweating so much?"
"An hour!" Rafayel repeats, arm raised to his forehead, falling back into the dirt with a harsh thud! as his chest heaves dramatically, damn near gasping for air as his free hand reaches for his chest, palming at the skin above his chest's cavity.
"A whole hour! Oh, the agony! I might shrivel up and die at this rate!" Then, he sits up, pointing at you accusingly. "Is that what you want? Huh, huh?!"
"Just go inside," you say, dismissing him with the flick of your hand. "I'll do it myself."
Rafayel gasps, brows furrowed, bridge of his nose wrinkling while his lips part, hanging agape, head darting to and fro as if to say, "Are you hearing this right now?!" But there's nobody around to share his disbelief. So, Rafayel does what he does best: he feigns nonchalance.
"Fine then!" he responds, standing up, dusting the dirt off his clothes before crossing his arms. "You can fight these weeds yourself. Don't come crying to me when they win!"
He walks away, making no effort to hide the glances he spares in your direction, wondering if you're going to grovel for him to come back (if you did, he'd half-consider continuing to toil away at these weeds with you)—but you don't, because you're heartless (how ironic!) and cruel. And sick in the head. And you really, really don't have an eye for the things that really matter in this world (read: him! He's the thing that matters! Over here! Him!)
Ten steps and twenty glances later, Rafayel realizes that you really aren't looking back. Fine. Whatever. Not like he cares, anyway!
And so, Rafayel returns to his air-conditioned studio, bottom lip jutted out as he sits down at his couch, feeling ill from how sweaty he is, the ache of weed-pulling beginning to sweep through his arms. Leaning back, he stares up at the ceiling, sulking.
He turns to look at you again, your figure now separated from his by a thin layer of glass, hunched over as you continue pulling away at those vile plants.
There you go again, he thinks. Uncaring, unabashed, unafraid. You do things without much regard for anyone else; Rafayel hates that about you. He hates that he can't seem to leave you alone, he hates that his gaze seems to root itself in your existence, unable to be torn away, unable to stare at anything else other than the slight part of your lips as you dig into the dirt, your brows furrowed, arm raised to wipe at your sweat.
You look tired.
A couple minutes later, Rafayel returns to your side with a hat, dropping it clumsily onto your head while he hands you a drink. Crouching down, he meets your gaze with the haughty tilt of his head, pouting, while he drinks in your expression with the insatiability of a couple centuries.
"Are you really going to spend the whole day doing this?" he asks, thumbing at a bead of sweat which trickles down the side of your face, eyes trickling—for the most minute of seconds—to your lips as you drink. His gaze meets yours again.
"Yeah," you reply. "We have to get your garden in order before spring arrives."
He huffs. "What's so good about a garden?"
"Didn't you ask me to help you plant things?"
Rafayel invited you over to his place with the attention of gardening for twenty minutes, and lounging for the rest of the day. He did not intend for you to work away at these damned weeds as if your life depended on it.
Still, it doesn't look like you have the wherewithal to even fathom the enormity of his thoughts—considering, well, you have no memory of anything at all!—so, with a defeated look, Rafayel tugs you away from the weeds, ushering you under a tree where he's so coincidentally set up a blanket.
"Sleep," he mutters, fingers brushing over your eyes, the coolness of his touch contrasting the warmth of your skin. "You're always causing trouble for me, you know?"
You snort. "Me? Have you seen yourself?"
Though you can't see his face, you can make out the offense in his voice, as if he's shocked by your audacity. Before he can even respond, Rafayel notices the shift in your breathing, the relax of your muscles, brows easing over as you drift into sleep.
"Ugh," he mutters, sitting back, staring at your comfortable form as you've come over to his house, freeloaded off of his kindness, and now are sleeping, despite being the guest! There's really something wrong with your standards!
"You're lucky, you know," he says, voice barely above a whisper, wiping away at the sweat which forms across your skin. "Using me like this."
After a couple hours, you wake up, your head propped up against Rafayel's lap as he sketches in a handheld book, his expression incredulous as you turn towards the garden, mouth hanging agape once you realize it was completely weeded.
"What?!" you exclaim. "Where'd all the weeds go?"
Rafayel scoffs. "They all just decided to get up and leave once you fell asleep."
You turn towards him, his hand parting from the sketchbook to thumb at your face, pinching your cheek.
"Is that what you thought I'd say? No! I did everything! While you slept, I was out there, working like a dog, day and night, living off of—"
You laugh. Rafayel's words falter before his complaint can continue on, eyes growing wide as you grin, returning his gesture by cupping his face in between your hands, adoring.
"Thanks, Raf."
He looks away, lips jutted out, brows furrowing. "Hmph. Is that all?"
"I love you."
His gaze returns to you, eyes blown wide, mouth hanging slightly agape as he stares at you, figure drowned in his pupils, expression ablaze as if he had just witnessed the sublime.
"Ugh... Do you think words are enough? Am I an easy fish to you!?"
"I love you and appreciate you very much," you say.
"Blub blub blub."
You lean forward, the shadow of the tree reaching everywhere but your lips. When you part, Rafayel hums, chasing after you again, hand pressed against the back of your head as he presses you towards him.
"I don't work for free, you know!"
Expecting your arrival, Zayne leaves sticky notes around his house for you when he works late shifts, carrying you from the couch to his bed when he does return home.
There are times where you're forced to acquaint yourself with the silence.
Zayne's home feels larger than life when he's not here—locking the door behind you, entering the place with your bags—but, there are hints of his presence everywhere, warmth seeping in through the crevices, the cold beginning to shy away.
As if expecting your arrival (despite you not telling him you'd go to his place after work), there are sticky notes around the walls, on the fridge, on the countertops.
His handwriting, while quick and oftentimes merged, reveals hints of love, etched into the way he writes your name, clearer than other words—or the way he rewrites parts he thinks may be illegible, ensuring he's conveyed everything he needs to.
"Heat up the container with the red lid," the sticky note on the refrigerator door says. "It's your favorite soup. Side dishes are the containers on the top."
On the countertop: "Don't stay up too late. Don't wait for me to come home. Sleep first."
On the television remote: "Take breaks while watching. Don't stare at the screen for too long. Get up and look around."
On the cabinets filled with sweets: "Don't eat them all." You half-wonder if it's because he's planning to go through them all in your stead.
And, on the door to his room, its hinge parting to reveal his bed, neatly made: "Sleep here. Don't sleep on the couch."
When you reach for the container, pulling the side dishes away, there's another sticky note on the lid. The writing, smaller than the rest, clearer and more carefully enscribed, reads, "I love you. I'll be home soon. Eat well."
You pocket this sticky note, smiling uncontrollably, running your fingers over the words as you can feel the indent of the pen, the pressure of his adoration, the tenderness of his words, etched hours ago. Warm, you eat the food he prepared for you, sitting at the couch with a show put on the television, wrapped up in a spare blanket.
Despite Zayne telling you not to wait for him, you find yourself lingering on the couch for much longer than intended, gaze staring at the screen, dazed, as you peer at your phone, noticing the time. Midnight, you think, unable to bite back a yawn, your eyes glossy.
You don't know when you fell asleep after that.
Zayne arrives home, bag in hand, his scrubs folded neatly within as he changes into his slippers at the door, noticing an extra pair in the rack.
You're home, he thinks. The realization makes his heart stutter a little, organ swelling, feeling fuller and wholler and brighter. The buzz of the television resounds throughout the home, accompanied by the scent of food, your presence existing everywhere—in his home, in his chest, in his mind, lingering. He steps forward, noticing your figure on the couch, wrapped up in front of the bright light. He sighs.
"I thought I told you not to sleep here..." he mutters, approaching you from a distance, noticing your eyes, fluttered shut, mouth hanging slightly agape as you sleep without a single care in the world.
Zayne showers quickly, not wanting to keep you there for much longer, but not wanting to touch you before having cleaned himself from today's shift. Afterwards, he's quick to find your figure, lifting you up, still encased in the blanket as he brings you to his room, laying you down in his bed, replacing the spare with his own comforter.
"Zayne...?" you mumble, wiping at your eyes. Zayne's hand raises to your wrist, stopping the movement, lips parting to lecture you about how it's bad for your eyes—but then he catches a glimpse of your expression under the light, hazy, marred with sleep, yet adoration seeping through your gaze, and suddenly, he can't bring himself to say anything at all. He swallows thickly.
You've made such a lover of him, your existence pervading throughout his own, his lips unable to utter any word that is not your name.
"I didn't mean to wake you," he says, quiet. "Sleep."
You lean towards him, burying your face in the fabric of his shirt, breathing in, warmth coalescing. Zayne rubs circles into your back, fingers tracing over the skin, feeling the tenseness of your muscles which he'll address later. For now, all that matters if that he's home, that you're here, and that, most wonderfully, the two of you are together.
summary: You got hurt badly on a mission. Zayne thought for the worst. But you were still there alright, and you help him reassure him sexually... (Zayne makes you come on his desk, and then proceeds to rail you)
◈ TAGS: (+18) NSFW MDNI. smut. no plot just smut, desk sex, office sex, sneaking?, almost getting caught, (but you actually do), p in v (obvi), oral sex, multiple orgasms, established relationship,
⟐ wc: 3.8 !!
◈ A/N.: Stayed up til 6am writing this fic for couple of days !! I poured my heart and all of my singular brain cell for this. I actually enjoyed writing this, so i hope you guys enjoy it as well <3
You sit idle at Zayne's office, you can sense faint notes of lemongrass and jasmine filling in the room. His office is clean and tidy, with cabinets lining up the walls. It's starkly too white, well, that was until you gifted him several plants throughout the years you've been with him.
'you can't just work in some torture chamber all day! Decorate your office with some plants at the least! ' you recall telling him the exact sentence when you gifted him his first office plant.
It was late at night, the windows were shut and the curtains drawn. No sounds were coming out of the room. If anyone were to look in from outside, they could tell there's no one in this office.
But there was you, and him.
Zayne is sitting across from you, typing some document, perhaps your patient information, into the computer. His face looks blank, but you can sense a faint waver in his fingers. You both weren't speaking to one another. You were nervous, but you didn’t know why. It wasn't exactly your fault.
Well, maybe, perhaps— you WERE a little reckless today.
You trace the shadows stretching across the room, letting your eyes wander elsewhere but at him. A heavy sigh escapes his lips, thick with emotion he's desperately trying to hide.
The silence stretched between you for what felt like an eternity.
He finally speaks, "You're lucky you're still sitting there,"
"But I'm here," you look down, idly rubbing your thumbs together.
Zayne taps his pen on his desk. He's agitated.
"Hey, I know—"
"You almost died." His voice snaps through the air, raw and laced with a tinge of vulnerability.
"Alright, DIED, is kind of an overstatement."
To be fair, you thought you were going to die out there today, too. But you didn't want to admit he was right. You were collapsed by a dilapidated building, debris falling right to your leg. Got buried alone in the disaster with no signal.
It was lucky, you were lucky. It was a miracle that you got away with just some scratches, bruises, and cast on your crushed leg. As a Hunter, you understood the reality of the job and the consequences that came with it. As your primary care doctor, Zayne should have been desensitized to it too. Yet, this time, the toll it took on him was breaking through his professional stoic armor.
"Zayne…" You try to defrost the tension in the air. When you looked closer at him, you noticed the glassiness in his eyes. "Hey... honey. I'm okay."
Ignoring the dull ache in your leg, you hobbled around the desk to close the distance between you. The moment you were within reach, Zayne pulled you into him. His arms wrapped around you with desperate strength, his shoulders tensing and visibly shaking against you.
"I… I thought…." His voice broke on the words.
"I know," you murmured, tangling your fingers into his hair to soothe the tremors. "I'm sorry. I was careless. But I'm here, Zayne. I'm right here."
He squeezed you tighter, burying his face into you as if letting go meant you would dissolve into thin air. The earlier tension has evaporated, replaced by a quiet, fragile stillness, unspoken agreement to cling to the fact that you were there with him.
The silence broke when you shifted your weight. Standing on one leg was starting to strain you. Zayne noticed immediately. He slowly peeled himself away, steadying his breath.
"I'll see you at home, yeah?" You gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
Instead of answering, Zayne abruptly pushed back his chair and stood. He began walking straight toward the office door. You sensed a sudden heat in his gaze, but you thought it was just your imagination. You shook your head dismissing your vulgar thoughts.
'come on, Zayne wouldn't do that'
A click of a doorknob echoed in the room.
'oh, Zayne would do that'
You swallow hard as a wave of heat washes over you. Zayne pivots to face you, his eyes burning with a silent, intense focus that makes your pulse spike. Instinctively, you take a cautious step back, your movements heavy as you back into the corner of his office.
You cough out, "Hey… it's all okay. I'm okay." You are trembling anxiously, but your body knows itself. Anticipation pools deep within you, and your breath hitches as the air in the room suddenly feels heavy and close.
'Was it always this tight in here?'
In quick steps, Zayne is already towering over you, his presence completely engulfing your personal space. "Then would it be okay if I did this to you?"
He leans down, his mouth meeting yours in a gesture that is more tender than you expected. He brushes his palms against yours, hooking his fingers through your own to lock your hands together, pinning you both in the moment.
Sighs and moans were exchanged as your lips met. You can feel Zayne's restraint vibrating through him, trying to not lose himself in the kiss, aware that your body is still healing. His touches were delicate, careful to not squeeze your skin too hard. Tactically avoiding your bruises around your waist, his hands found your hips, pulling you closer so he could deepen the kiss. You smiled against his lips, slipping your hands up to get tangled in his hair.
The movement of the kiss shifts, growing more passionate and wet. You moaned into him as he clamped his mouth over your tongue, gently sucking on it. Heat radiates between you as the world outside the office walls disappears. Desperate, you push more into him, and as you push forward, his back hits the edge of the desk with a heavy thump.
Zayne groans softly, in that moment, the careful distance he maintained dissolves, replaced by a raw, urgent need to be near you. He carefully undressed your top and bottoms, wasting no time trying to be coy.
"Get on the desk," He breathed out.
You let him guide you to his clean desk. As you sit down, cold sharpness shocks your bottom. You shivered, bracing your hands on the edge. "Zayne, it's cold." Coming off little pouty.
"Then I'll warm you up."
He leaned back in, dipping low to capture your mouth in a kiss that erased the chill entirely. His hands began to roam all over your body, tracing your shape, his palms warm with heat. Even in his desperation, he still gripped you with softheartedness, pouring every ounce of his unspoken fear and relief straight into the kiss.
With one quick, decisive move, he unclasped your bra, freeing your chest to the cool air of the room. You let out a quiet whimper as he lightly grazed your sensitive nipples with his calloused fingertips, sending a sharp jolt of electricity straight to your core.
"Are you turned on by the thought that someone might hear us?" Zayne whispered against your ear, his breath hot and uneven.
A sudden wave of uneasiness flashed through your mind, "I thought it was getting late…"
"So? It's still a hospital, love. People work late hours here." He trailed a line of kisses down your neck, his lips pressing over your racing pulse. Feeling the slight tension in your frame, he immediately pulled back, "Are you nervous? We can stop here and go home," As much as he wanted to take you right here on this desk, he was still considerate not to cross your boundaries.
"Ah… no!" You hastily reach out, grabbing his arm to keep him close. "I mean…" Your face was burning up as you realized your exclamation was probably too loud.
Zayne gave out a low breathy chuckle, "If you promise you will be quiet…" He leaned back in, his focus entirely on you as he peppered soft, teasing kisses around your jaw and cheeks. "We might just get away with it."
Your pulse quickened meeting his gaze.
Oh how risky this game was, 'Could he get fired? Can I actually keep my composure?'
While your brain scrambled to find logic and reason in all this, your body was already moving without your permission. Moving entirely on instinct, you leaned forward, closing the distance between you once more, biting down on his lower lip.
Zayne's expression softened, his hands resting gently on your waist. Every tender touch of his fingers makes you quiver. You whimper as he sucks your tongue with utmost furor. Any concern of you two getting caught swept over you, you get lost in him, head getting dizzy, body burning up. At that moment, the world outside the office didn't seem to matter.
He pulls away the kiss, lingering over you as you can see the slick of your spit glistening, making a bridge between your tongue.
"Can you be good, and try not to make a sound?" Zayne pinches your nipples, making your eyes flicker.
"Y-yes"
"I was afraid that I was making you do something you weren't comfortable with." Zayne pressed his fingers gently at your entrance, resulting in your panties smearing a wet spot. "But I think I was worried for nothing"
You moan, as he firmly presses his fingers into your burning cunt.
"Zayne…" You tremble, holding on to his arms to anchor yourself.
He slides your panties to the side, allowing him access to the source of your wetness. He uses your slick to lube up his fingers, then slowly, he presses them inside you. You melt into his touch, as he presses deeper and deeper.
"Mmmm. Zayne…" You sigh out,
He plunged his two fingers, in and out, your warm hole sucking his fingers in tightly.
"Zay—ne— hic- don't stop,"
"I don't want to"
You grip him more tightly, pressing your hips into his hand in a desperate search for friction. Zayne pulls you in close against his chest, hearing his raging heart beating in rhythm with his ragged breath. His thumb finds your clit, applying a deliberate pressure that sends a jolt straight to your chest, leaving your heart hammering in your throat.
He leans down, claiming your mouth in a deep, wet kiss, his tongue tangling hungrily with yours. Your breath hitches into rapid breathless moans. Every muscle in your body tightens, your body trembling with a burning intensity as you hover right on the edge.
The tightening of your muscles tells him everything he needs to know, and he holds you steady, holding you through the peak of your release.
Slowly, Zayne withdrew the kiss, giving you space to breathe and catch your breath. He drags his fingers out of you with leisure, bringing them straight to his mouth to lick and suck them clean, his darkened green eyes never leaving yours.
The air in the room suddenly felt too heavy. You're slumped on his desk, completely undone, your chest still heaving in a slow, ragged rhythm. And yet, why do you feel a buzzing heat lingering deep in your stomach?
As if Zayne noticed your lust still lingering in the air, he drops to his knees in front of you.
"May I taste you?" He looks up with those pleading eyes. How could you say no?
With a swift movement, he hooks his fingers into your well ruined panties, pulling them down your feet. He lifts your knees, draping your legs over his shoulders to open you completely to him.
He started by leaving lingering kisses down your thighs, eventually, leading them up to your folds. You feel his warm breath whiff over your most sensitive spot, making you squirm. Zayne gently sucks on your swelling wet cunt, before delving his tongue in.
His sudden movements drove you crazy, making your legs tremble uncontrollably. You just came, every touch and feeling was just overly sensitive.
"Z-Zayne… hah.. Too— much—" you cry out. Your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to process the sheer overload of it.
Zayne wasn't listening, he's lapping your arousal to utmost attention, sucking up every lewd juices your pussy oozes out.
Your skin was flushed, hot to the touch. You couldn't move, you didn't want to. You were trapped in that exquisite, agonizing aftershock where the boundary between pleasure and ache completely blurs.
"Nn— Ah! Za-Zayne—" you sob, "It— hah.. feels… feels good…" Your shaking fingers clawed deep into his desk.
As Zayne is dedicated to devouring you wholly, he slides up his finger to your opening, spreading you open. Slowly, he pressed his fingers into you, your insides wet and warm, welcoming him back again as it swells on his fingers. He gradually curved his fingers upwards to hit your most sensitive spot. Your head swings back, spine arching as the sheer intensity of the pleasure takes over.
"Mnng?!" At this point, you can't make up any coherent words anymore. All turning into babbled cries.
You grasp what you can, his hair, anything. Zayne pleasuring every inch of you is becoming too much to bear. The heat of his mouth, wet tongue, and the glide of his smooth fingers, all of it relentless, driving you closer to the edge.
"You taste perfect, love. Come for me."
The gentleness of his words makes your heart burst, you can't hold yourself anymore. Your hips start to tense up, trembling, your back arches as you pulse in pure bliss.
Your body goes limp, toppling over a second time. Your brain is buzzing, unable to make any clear thoughts. Zayne leans on your thighs, reaching out for your hands, gently rubbing circles on your knuckles.
Your chest rising and falling in exhausted paces. Every muscle in your body felt like a warm wax, completely melting into his embrace. Your eyes were heavily glazed, struggling to hold focus as the room slowly tilting from the two orgasms he dragged you through.
Zayne stands up, looking entirely too put together, while you were a beautifully wrecked disaster. His fingers slid up to cup your jaw, his thumb rubbing on your lower plump lip. The simple touch sent fire straight down your spine, making your breath hitch all over again. With the faint vision from your eyes you could notice him taking his glasses off. You were still flowing somewhere above ground, your brain still foggy and your limbs feeling like goo, but as you looked into his eyes, his words cut through the trance.
"Do you think you can go for more?"
Your body can
You give a weak nod, offering him a silent reassurance that you are entirely his in this moment.
"Then love, will you give me the permission, to make you feel even better?" Zayne’s voice is a low growl. Guided by his touch, your hands find the edge of his belt, letting your fingers trace down to his throbbing cock. A low groan escapes him, when you pressed on his stiffness, making your mouth water.
Zayne swallows the aching lump in his throat, he unclasps his belt, freeing his thick shaft. He grabs his cock by the ridge, slowly rubbing his tip at your swollen entrance. His free hand slides down to grip your waist, his fingers digging in gently but possessively, pulling you close against him until there is absolutely no space left between you.
The sheer warmth of him radiates through you. Slowly, deliberately, he begins to move, pressing into you with a steady, gentle friction that makes the rest of the world completely fade away.
With a gentle, final thrust, he's all the way inside you. "You are so wet for me."
You whimper as his size spreads you open. "Mmm. Zayne…"
Zayne starts to move his hips, sluggish at first, letting you accommodate his size. Then with a fierce tempo, he drives into you. You cry out at his abrupt speed increase, grasping his shoulders, digging your nails into his shirt.
"Ah! Z-Zayne!! Anhh— not too— fast—"
The room is now filled with your lustful cries and the ragged breathing between you two. The scent in the air is all too musky, the pleasant aroma that was lemongrass and jasmine, is exchanged by your sex juices and sweat.
"Shh." Zayne grunted into your ear. "You— fuck— don't want my co-workers— nng— to hear your erotic cries… Do you?"
"M-Mmnnh—" You muster all the consciousness you have left, and bite down into his shoulders. Scabbling his shirt, now ruined with your saliva and torn seams, you cry out long desperate whimpers. Your eyes water, body shaking violently. You realize you are making noises but you can't hear anything.
You are all so soaked for him, dripping all over his desk and down to the floor. Your mind drifts away again, blood buzzing in your ears.
Zayne, not caring if you could or could not hold your voice down, fucked you harder and deeper. The table rattling, and papers flying off the desk, as he picks up the pace. Anyone who walks by would hear you and Zayne's illicit activity.
It's when you are coming close to another orgasm that you hear footsteps in the distance.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Like a wakeup call, you are conscious again. All your senses come alive, heightening all sensations you are receiving with his fat cock.
"Ahnng—" you cry out.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"Shhh… someone's coming" Zayne curls into your neck burying his nose into your hair.
The steps are getting louder and clearer, it might be just down the halls. Your heart is racing in the thought of you two getting caught. You thought Zayne would slow down, but instead he lifts you off from the desk, holding you up, piercing you with his dick.
"Z-Zayne!" You whisper loudly into his ear.
Oh the scolding you would do, once he's done… Wait, is he getting bigger?
Zayne's breath is ragged, growing heavier and hoarser each time he thrusts into you.
You almost moan his name in pleasure but that's when you hear the knocking.
Knock. Knock.
"Dr. Zayne? Are you still here?"
A night nurse.
The voice is coming from right outside the walls, just a couple feet away from you. Your blaring heart lurched to your throat choking out air. Your eyes flew open, trying to hold back a moan.
At first, you thought he would stop, and pretend no one is in here. Let her leave in peace, so you can finish in silence. But to your surprise, he still thrusts in a steady rhythm, and in a raspy voice he speaks out,
"Ye-s. I'm about to leave…"
'Is he crazy?'
"Oh! I just wanted to let you know, there's files for—"
"Hnng— Y-yes. Could you leave them… by the door."
'He's crazy'
"You alright doctor?"
You try your best to hold on and muffle your breath by chomping his shoulders down hard. You give him a silent glare.
"Yes— thrust
I'm— thrust
quite... alright— thrust"
"Annhg!" You couldn't keep this cry out.
"Oh..! I see. I'll see you tomorrow doctor." You can't see her, or know who she is, but you can undeniably make out her blushing face.
The steps quickly disappear away, leaving you back alone with sounds of your breaths and squelching sound of your wet pussy.
"H-hey what was that!" you stammered, your breath catching. "What if she knew what we were doing in here"
"Oh, she knew."
Without saying anything else, he set you down gently, bending you over the desk thrusting back in.
"Zay… ne— Anhhn— Li! When I— fuck— get you… ! "
Zayne's laugh echoes along the room with the sloppy wet sounds you are making with this dick. His hand gripped your waist, circling his thumbs affectionately.
"You were— fucking— tightening up…on my dick. I thought— you— loved it." He groaned. His body leaned over, weaving under your body with his right hand finding your clit. With a quiet flick of his Evol, a slight chill crept into his fingertips.
A sharp gasp escapes your lips as the chill fingers press against your sensitive bud. You clench up around his length in reflex.
"Just like that."
All your efforts to hold back your voice were useless. You wailed so loudly, you might as well have broadcasted your lust to the entire hospital.
You could not take it any longer. This was all too much for you, his thick cock penetrating you to the fullest, and his evol overstimulating your clit.
"Fuck— You are so— so good." Zayne groaned in your ear, biting down on your shoulders, giving back what you gave him.
You cry out in something between pain and pleasure, tears falling down your cheeks. Your entire body goes numb and tense at the same time.
"Zayne! Zayne.. please—"
Zayne's cock trembled inside you, "I'm … close." He picks up speed, rubbing your clit in circles, trying to take you both to climax.
"I'm… hah— I'm going to fucking fill— you up—" Zayne moans out your name, your back arches up to him, "Come, come for me love— With me."
You grip on to the desk, bracing yourself for your feverish ecstasy to take you over. You cry out his name as you can feel his cock throbbing inside you, as your walls pulse around him and your vision fading black. Zayne's hips stutter for a brief second, before he empties inside you, endless streams of cum coating your walls. He pants out, rocking his hips slowly as he rides out his orgasm.
You let out a drawn out moan before collapsing onto his desk. He clings on to you as you both catch your breath. Zayne gasps, still inside you, leaving kisses on the shoulder where he bit you.
"Does it hurt?"
Still out of breath, you sway your head in 'no'
Zayne slowly pulls out, his cum dripping out of your pussy in the process. He doesn't quite clean it up yet, he settles back back onto his chair, and draws you onto his lap. As his arms wrap around you, the warmth of his embrace helps steady your ragged breathing and racing heart.
You lean into his chest, savoring this moment together. Hearing his beating heart in sync with yours, you draw circles in his chest. Zayne looks down at you, kissing your head, a gentle reminder that he loves and treasures you.
Although, that blissful moment is gone instantly once you gain back consciousness, you scowl at him, "We got caught! What if she gets you fired."
"It's okay. She knows I'm madly in love with you."
"That's not the issue!"
Zayne kisses your temples, "I doubt they can fire the best surgeon in Linkon City."
You sigh at his face in disbelief. "Now when did you get this sassy?"
You finally take in his changed expression. His jaw relaxing, the hard lines of his anxiety dissolving into a radiant smile. Beneath your palms, his frantic heartbeat slows to a steady, comforting rhythm. He weaves his fingers through your hair, pulling a single lock to his lips, as if it's the most precious thing in the world.
A long, warm exhale brushes against your neck as his lips linger, carrying a soft, tethered whisper, "I love you."
The unexpected confession catches in your throat, making your heart skip a beat before melting into his warmth. Grinning against his shoulder, you tighten your arms around him, burying yourself in the safe weight of his embrace. "I love you too, Zayne"
