Can I Pleaseeee Have A Zayne

can i pleaseeee have a zayne 🥺😭

Zayne: Morning Afterglow

Warning: Smut, MDNI, 18+, 2k words, no plot (just a lazy morning), gentle (?) sex, Cunnilingus, unprotected sex, sensual love making. AFAB!reader, Reader may or may not be the mc.

Author's note: how do you write gentle sex exactly???? request made by anon!

A big hand roamed the expanse of your back, tasting its warmth.

For a second, the touch disappeared, changing to a single finger. Carefully, it traced every dip and crevice formed by your position as you lay on your side—your spine, the dip in your shoulder blades, the folds of your love handles, and your Venus dimples.

You held your breath at the thought of Zayne doing it. He's been doing this the whole week. Whenever you were distracted by something, his hand would always come into contact with your body, touching it for his own amusement. It wasn't even intimate or erotic; it was just plain eccentric and out of character.

"Are you that interested in my body? How scandalous of you, Dr. Zayne!" You exclaimed, over-exaggerating your tone.

To your words, he merely responded with a blink and a stare before turning away from you. You were perplexed. Who wouldn't be?! Is this his way of getting accustomed to touching you?

"I know you're awake," Zayne whispered, his lips just behind your ears. You shiver at the lowness of his voice and stiffen as his hand lands on your hips. "Why are you holding your breath?"

"I was woken up to you touching me," you replied back. It's not that you were complaining about it, but it felt… nice. Even if there was no malice to his touch, it sent a small jolt of electrical shock from your back to everywhere. "But good morning."

Zayne's lips touched the nape of your neck, placing a light kiss. His hand, which was on your hip, traced carefully from your waist up to your shoulder. You can't help but crave a kiss, so you slightly turn behind you and meet his face. "Are you still sore from last night?" he gently asked, giving another peck on the forehead.

You shook your head from side to side.

"Good," he whispered, accompanied by a kiss on the nose. Zayne tugged off the plain white duvet that was the only thing covering your naked body. That took you off guard. "May I?" he asked, and you finally rolled to his side of the bed, revealing yourself in all your naked glory. Hickey-riddled neck and collarbones, your stomach, your pinkish thighs, and your supple breasts. He basked in the sight of you riddled with his love marks.

"What's gotten you so eager this morning?" you asked, but he did not respond. He simply pulled you closer and finally laid a kiss on your lips. You had to blink thrice before giving in to his all-too-gentle kiss—a stark contrast to the harsh, hungry kisses he was gnawing out of you last night.

You opened your lips and let his tongue enter, pushing and sliding against yours while shallow whimpers escaped your mouth. You could still taste the sweetness of the chocolate from last night. His hand didn't lay dormant; it stroked and touched everything it came across before landing on your nipples.

"Mhm?" you let out when his cold fingertips brushed the peak of your breasts. You arched your chest out even further in the hopes of coming into contact with his fingers again. Your breasts were more sensitive that morning, probably due to Zayne's rough suckling and kneading. The light hue had turned more reddish, and it seemed like they were almost swollen, yet they didn't hurt at all.

You and your lover pulled away from the kiss, a silver thread connecting both of your tongues. Zayne adored the redness of your ears and your low-lidded eyes; you were in a trance as well, certainly in the mood for much more.

He got on his elbows and lowered his face onto your left breast, blowing on it. You flinched at the cold air, making you grab a fistful of his black locks. You glared at him, and he grinned. He opened his mouth and gently lapped at your breast. The other hand found its way to the right and flicked on the nipple at the same time his tongue struck up.

"Ah…" Your back lifted slightly, but the rest of Zayne's body was pressing you down. Despite it not hurting, he was still gentle with his actions. He sucked lightly, swirling his tongue and teasing the bud. You enjoyed the efforts of his mouth and fingers, letting out a sequence of weak moans.

Every movement was like a small electric spark from your chest down to your womanhood.

You can't help but let out ragged breaths as your heart beat strongly against your chest. You attempted to calm yourself down by staring at the ceiling, yet Zayne playfully bit your nipple and pinched the other. You thrust your hips against his stomach and let out a loud, unguarded moan.

You could feel something hardening and rubbing against your own thigh, but you couldn't really care less because your lover showered your torso with so many kisses. He left trails and trails of them all over, worshipping your body like a devoted believer. He went lower and lower, and his mouth stopped right at your entrance.

Zayne paused, eyeing every mark he left. He then eyed your womanhood, gazing at it with slight hunger.

The warmth of Zayne's body had disappeared from your own, and the cold wind of the air conditioner took its place. There came the slight embarrassment on your face—he was staring for too long, even if there was nothing to look at down there.

You instinctively closed your thighs shut, but it was soon a futile attempt as Zayne's hands held them open. "Don't close your legs, Honey." Zayne could see the blush on your cheeks, and you couldn't do anything other than lay your head back and wait. For dear life, you grabbed one of Zayne's pillows and pressed it over your eyes and the bridge of your nose. Partially, it was because you were shy, but deep down, you did it because you wanted to feel the sensation even more.

You waited. The minute seemed like an hour, but then finally, finally, you could feel your lover's mouth. You swallowed your saliva and spread your legs a little wider. Zayne kissed the inners of your thighs and gave you a generous, fluid-coated lick, lathering your pussy. You throbbed as his hot tongue brushed on the lips of your womanhood.

"Mhhm," you let out. His finger briefly disappeared from your thighs, but then you suddenly felt yourself being opened. You pressed the pillow harder on your eyes to cope with the embarrassment you felt at being wide open. It wasn't your first time with Zayne, and it's not uncommon for him to do this, but every time, you can't help but feel the shame.

Your hips squirmed at the cold air, but at the same time, you throbbed, feeling a slimy fluid drip out of your hole. "Zayne…" you called in the hopes that he could hurry it up. The surgeon's green eyes flickered up to you, but he clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction. Why were you covering your face with the pillow?

Swiftly, he yanked it away from you and discarded it to the floor. And while you were in the midst of complaining, his tongue nudged your clit. Slowly, you could feel Zayne's tongue move side to side, firmly and quickly, wasting no time to prepare you. "Ah! Ah! Zayne!" you screamed, hips bucking higher to add more pressure to his face. He wrapped his hands around your thigh while your hand was still in his hair.

He continued eating you out, holding you in the same position all the while he got drunk off of the lewd noises that came from your mouth. You were ebbing at the sensation. Your sex organ was clenching and relaxing at the pleasurable sensations coming from your clit. "Ah—Zayne, I'm—" You couldn't continue your words.

The moment you locked eyes with Zayne, a gentle heat radiated from your core.

The muscles in your legs tightened, and your back arched. A familiar, wonderful tingle erupted out of your vagina. You felt yourself burst, the uninterrupted pleasure prolonged by Zayne's continuous lapping. He held on to you and focused on your reactions, adoring how you whimpered out of pleasure.

You basked momentarily in the bliss that your body had experienced, ignoring your lover, who quietly disappeared from between your legs. You closed your eyes for a moment.

You didn't know what it was you experienced, but it was certainly new—an orgasm that wasn't hard, yet it was a satisfactory one. You stared at the ceiling, a portion of your energy depleted from the early morning activities. Your lids grew heavy, and the cool breeze was nice against the skin, but before you could even doze off, a hand wrapped itself around your calves.

"Eh?" one of your legs had been hung above Zayne's shoulder, and when you glanced to look, there he was again in between your legs. Zayne's cock stood upright, rock solid, like it was ready to burst.

"Can…I put it in?" he asked, rubbing his cheek on your ankle. His ears were deep red, and his eyes were almost pleading. Who could say no to him? You nodded, and Zayne aligned himself with your entrance.

The high and sensitivity from your orgasm were still there, but you were still eager to move on. You marveled at Zayne's well-toned torso, seeing it move as he thrust his hip forward, careful not to hurt you. The stretch didn't hurt; if anything, it felt good. He pushed himself in further, stopping every now and then because your insides were throbbing.

Your insides squeezed his cock in an irregular rhythm, and it felt good. It was hot inside you, and he was craving more, but it felt like It was the right moment to bask in this sensation. Zayne began to lightly move his hips, giving you shallow thrusts. He held onto your thigh, fingers digging into the flesh a bit while his other hand was guiding his hip.

Heavy breaths escaped from his lips. He was trying his best to hold back, but he couldn't help but let out a few mewls. It felt good inside you. Maddeningly good, yet uncannily, there was no urge to go rougher. He wanted to take his sweet time.

His shallow thrusts went deeper and deeper until you were practically being rocked against him. Your skin rubbed against the sheets while your insides felt like they were being repeatedly stretched, filled one moment and empty the next. Your vision was turning white, flickering with every movement.

Zayne's pace was becoming faster and faster, and it was evident that he was moving to please himself even more. His girth was perfect, managing to add just the right amount of pressure to your favorite spot while his tip kept kissing and touching your cervix. He relished how you were sucking him in, not wanting to let go.

He kept his pace for a little while longer, but then he changed his position, lifting the other leg and pushing himself right over you. He dipped his hips into your opening. "Deep…" you panted. "Zayne—you're so deep…" He kept on doing it until you could practically hear both of your skins making slapping noises.

The series of noises grew louder and louder until Zayne wasn't holding back his relished moans, the guttural noises turning you on even more. He lowered his head to your ear and nibbled lightly while he pushed open your fingers, intertwining them together. "Cumming…mhm!" He kept on thrusting and thrusting, getting sloppier until Zayne buried himself, his everything, into yours.

You let out a choked cry, and Zayne let out a quivering moan in return, his abs and body stiffening as you felt spurts of white hit against your inner flesh. It was hot—and filling you up.

He thrust a little bit more, eager to prolong his ejaculation, but soon after, his body wilted onto yours.

"Honey," you cried, tapping his sweat-riddled back. Your lover was still breathing heavily, a little fuzzy over his climax. "You're heavy…" you whispered in his ear. While he kept himself inside you, as more seconds passed, you felt him go a little softer, with his breathing balanced out. When you turned your head, merely centimeters apart from his—he was fast asleep.

"A lazy day it is," You thought, falling asleep while being crushed underneath your lover's weight.

It was a peaceful morning in your residence.

Author footnotes: I added Caleb because I want to slowly integrate him to my works.

Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost |

thats so sweet im gonna cry :((

THE MORNING AFTER - TEXTING THE LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MEN

Warnings : mentions and references to the first time having sex together, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : fluffff <33

Additional notes : These men would be absolute SAPS the morning after, you guys can’t convince me otherwise. They’re just made to love wholly💗 To anyone else reading this, my requests are still closed!! These are just old requests I had in my inbox🫶🏽

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oh sylus the man you are 🤭🤭

SINFUL DEVOTION

0.9k words. you're a deity, something sylus can't have. yet, here the two of you are -- recklessly fucking each other. an impossible power dynamic crackles between you two, but the forbidden sexual deeds make sylus' devotion tragically sweeter. he's the closest he can ever be, but it's almost not enough. you're to be rightfully worshipped, not coddled. 1/??? masterlist.

acts: unprotected sex, mating press, breeding kink, degration, rough sex, praising, creampies, devotion, forbidden love, begging, worshipping, hickeys and more.

a/n: this is supposed to be short bc it's a prologue. I'm actually so obsessed with him, that it hurts.

A deity, the embodiment of the unfathomable, that’s what you are. However, that status is disregarded now – tainted by a devoted Sylus. The strings of fate, intimacy and your sinful hearts swell and suffocate you two. Even though you both carry the gift of destruction, pain, control and leadership, this moment opposed everything you both stood for.

Nonetheless, you and Sylus carry a sexual franticness, insatiable lust and an unestablished base for you both. Desperation, humiliation and longing clings to the two of you. This intimate moment, where you’re folded into a degrading mating press, begging Sylus to pound you harder, dissolved your unreachable status.

Men like Sylus were ones you avoided, but he had sweetened and buttered you enough for you to have him so deeply within your guts – filling you up with his fruitful seed. Over and over and over again, you allowed yourself to be subjected to Sylus’ sexual reign – crying out his name. Worship seeped from your lips consistently, fuelling Sylus’ high ego drastically. 

Even though you sang his name, sex-drunk, he always devoted himself to you – whenever you were both sexually sober.

Currently, your lewd cries are captured by his ears as he glances down at you – grinning mercilessly while he pounds into you. Sylus held no sexual mercy for you, pouring his feelings, his heart, his thoughts and his genuine nature into each thrust. Deep down, you knew this forbidden form of art was his way of self-expression – due to you attempting to resist him. Through your swollen cunt, your cries of pleasure, your troubled breaths and orgasms, you let Sylus almost express his thoughts.

“Sy’, more!” Weeping, painfully overstimulated, you beg for more – overwhelmed by his harshly snapping hips.

“Aren’t… you greedy?” Hazily questioning you, lust-coated, Sylus lazily grins at the power imbalance between you two – relishing your celestial features scrunching.

“P-Please…breed me,” Humiliating yourself, begging Sylus, you gift him desperate, teary eyes – your eyes rolling back at his thick cock kissing your cervix.

“I’ll..destroy myself…just for you, “ Sylus declares through a deep thrust, feeling you tighten around him – fuelling the forbidden fruits that adorn you both.

“Ngh! ‘Gonna cum! ‘Too much!” A trembling mess, you lewdly bellow – vigorously shaking as Sylus sets an inhumane pace. 

Content, he burrows his deepest within you – unwilling to free you from his intoxicating physique. A physique that swells your every thought with his gigantic dick, his crimson eyes, his ivory hair and the yearning that marks him. The end of your world is seconds from drawing near, but Sylus’ presence smearing you is all you could think about – choppily breathing.

“Handle…it!” Gruffing commanding you, moaning, Sylus batters you with his pace – satisfied at you attempting to push some of his ample cock out of you.

“Can’t…hold,” Mentally blanking, your body strangled with warmth, a moan tears out of your throat – leading to you intensely finishing.

Right now, the only thing that mattered to you was Sylus, his cock and the longevity of his pounding. 

“S-Same,” Pricelessly trying to hold out for you, Sylus lowly responds to you – slamming his cock so deeply within you. 

Mellowly, his large balls would pulverise your bubble butt – drawing more attention to your soppy cunt, your mewling and his whimpering and grunting. Yet, this notion encouraged Sylus more – throwing almost everything he had on the line for the addictive taste of you. Sure, the two of you are fucking in one of his bases – surrounded by many dangerous clients that want you. However, he can’t bring himself to care right now – cock-bounding you so deeply. 

Sylus divulged as if you were to crumble beneath him, leaving him with fleeting winds.

Yelping, you jolt at Sylus’ cock hardening into you. Sylus is an absolute mess, panting whilst his furrowed brows knit closer. Longing for more, he drives his cock impossibly in you – watching you mischievously. Not once did he break eye contact, continuing his mean mating press – enjoying the warmth of your fluttering cunt. An hour had skimmed by, but you both refused to care.

“D-Don’t…want to lose you,” Wavering, Sylus mutters – thrusting deeply before he finishes within you. 

Devoted to you, Sylus can't help but grow lonesome – noticing the pitiful truth that lingers: you’re mentally unable to be his. Even as he plugs you with his baby batter, you’re still something greater than he ever is – surpassing him indefinitely.

Someone who’s destined to reconstruct and rule the world. However, Sylus wanted to hold more than sinful devotion.

Love. He wanted you to admit your heart, but you hid behind your painful status.

Collapsing mentally against you, Sylus swiftly pulls out of you – smitten at the sight of your swollen cunt plump and spilling with his thick seed. Naturally, this was your most vulnerable state – but you allowed Sylus to admire it. After all, the two of you have only this moment to express yourselves – before the chaotic night comes to an end.

“Sylus, we…can’t be here for long?” Regally speaking, slightly exhausted, you feel Sylus crumble into your arms – longing to be held.

“‘Can’t we…stay like this a little longer?” Desperate to be held and cared for by you, Sylus slyly begs you – his whiny question swaying you.

“Just a bit, but the deal at the masquerade ball isn’t going to make itself,” You speak, running your fingers through Sylus’ ivory locks – wanting to coddle him all night.

Knowing this is forbidden, you conceal your care behind your exhaustion – desperate to confess to Sylus. However, you’re unable to confess your heart – aware it’ll lead to your status as a powerful deity being your demise.

“If you insist, sweetie,” Vulnerable, a sinner within your arms, Sylus snuggles into your breasts – airily speaking.

Sinful devotion, but at what cost?

__

do not copy, modify or claim any of my works as your own. all rights reserved; cosycafune. 2024. small banners credit: cafekitsune <3

i need him so bad omfg- 🤭

could you be tender? / zayne

summary. he desires so violently and yet he waits.

tags. a heartbreaking amount of pining like give this man a break, he is a YEARNER, he is quite literally obsessed with the mc but not in a weird way, kind of angsty but it does get better i swear, suggestive comments, making-out, implied smut at the very end.

note. pulled out the high school level biology knowledge for this one. inspired by this quote from anaïs nin and the black pumas on repeat.

wc. 2k words

Zayne had no intention in changing who he came to be. They say patience is a virtue only few are fortunate enough to possess, and though this may run true, he believes it to be otherwise.

It was neither a blessing nor a curse as it simply just… existed, living within him like a permanent encryption of genetic code, for better or for worse. The gods made him like this–so be it. Neither a genetic defect nor a simple computational error placed down by his own DNA polymerase could change the fact that patience was a slow digging knife into his gut. It inched deeper and deeper, slicing through layers of skin and connective tissue until it punctured through vital organs and dug into the very marrow of his bones.

Through the layers of ice so thoroughly fogged to the point of inconceivability, to you it may have looked miles deep, but in reality it was nothing but a fragile wall of glass. The simple blessing of your touch, no matter how delicate and gentle it may be, it was more than enough to splinter a crack in his countenance.

He wondered if you could see it. The look in his eyes, the desire of which was so inherently violent, the curiosity of you seeing such a thing after years of being by your side was only a delusion—a mere semblance of his pitiful hope.

You slept so soundly upon his bed, shoulders finally relaxed for once. You had been so awfully tense since your grandmother’s passing and the receival of her letters that even successfully inviting you over for dinner and a movie was a miracle. Though, you fell into slumber long before the ending credits of the film even arrived.

Zayne wondered if this was the same worry that often plagued you when you saw the fatigue tainting his under eyes after long surgery-filled shifts.

You cared about him. He cared about you too, perhaps a little too much. He became a doctor for you after all, but that was a detail you didn’t have to know—shouldn’t know, rather. Zayne was a long time family friend of yours, but he was your primary care physician first and you were his patient.

It could never be anything more than that.

That became his mantra since the start of his rather laborious career, and an even more extensive job of hiding his feelings from you.

It was kind of stupid, really. A grown man closer to the age of thirty than twenty, have fought a handful of wanderers, and one of the best cardio-thoracic surgeons in Linkon, was afraid.

Zayne laughed at himself, a short palpable huff for the ridiculousness of it all, but it was enough to cause you to stir in your sleep.

A groan escaped your lips as your eyes fluttered open, turning over your shoulder to see Zayne perched at the end of the bed with his back towards you. Confusion washed over your face then when you noticed your surroundings. Your cheeks flushed crimson then, bright even in the dim lighting. This was not the living room you recalled yourself to be in.

“Zayne—”

“Had to move you before you got a stiff neck again,” he muttered the words over his shoulder.

Now that you were awake and talking, all of a sudden his own whirlwind of thoughts were lost into the backwards oblivion of his mind again. As if the past ten minutes of him building assurance was just another thought in the wind.

He sighed, finally tossing you a look when a small grin tugged at the corners of your lips. His heavy beating heart quickens.

This is where he praised his patience rather than curse it. It was moments like this where his heart swelled just by the mere look of you, how even in dim lighting the minute details in your expression was as clear as day. It did not matter whether you had just woken up from a slumber with marks and lines of his bedsheets imprinted on your cheek as a sign of well rest or if you had dirt and blood splattered across your face from intense battle. You always had been beautiful to him and this time was no different.

If Zayne hadn’t known any better, he would have already made his way over to you and held you within his arms until you inevitably fell back asleep.

But alas… he did know better after all.

“You should’ve picked the movie,” he conceded, a look of defeat painted in his expression.

“It wasn’t that boring,” you reasoned, though unsuccessfully, the smallest hint of a smile appeared on Zayne’s peach-tinted lips. “Then again, you should’ve seen it coming when you decided to put on a black-and-white silent film, but I digress.”

Zayne clicked his tongue, head shaking in a playful disapproval. “And to think you’d appreciate such fine cinema,” He readjusted himself on the bed as he said so. He was completely facing you now and just an arm’s reach away.

You ignored the darker thoughts that lingered in the back of your mind if someone were to walk in and see the position the two of you were in then.

“Just because a movie is old, doesn’t automatically mean it’s good, you know.”

“And just because you didn’t understand the movie, doesn’t mean it was bad, either.”

A rising smirk melted upon your lips, eyes glued upon the man in front of you still in his work clothes of a starched white button-down and his black trousers. Not even a single hair was out of place and you often wondered whether or not you could make a mess out of this man.

“Why did you stay, Zayne?” you asked, breaking the silence that fell for a few odd beats.

He did not answer right away. It was as you expected as you watched his own thoughts scramble to piece together a coherent string of words behind those icy dark eyes of his.

His gaze flickers away, “just wanted to make sure you were okay while you slept.”

An easy answer, to be fair, but the most obvious one he could justify. It was neither a lie nor was it the full truth, just simply an embellished rebuttal to hopefully satiate your ever rising noisiness.

“I can take care of myself, but I appreciate it nonetheless.”

“I wasn’t expecting to stay until you woke up.” The words fell from his tongue before he could stop himself. You could see the grimace in his furrowed brow.

Zayne often prided himself in only speaking when he needed to. And within those very few words far and between, he always knew what to say and what to keep to himself no matter who he was speaking to. So, of course out of all people, you were the only one capable of watching him stumble over his words.

You cocked your head, “how come?”

“Got stuck in my own thoughts, that’s all.” He hummed.

“Do you do that often?” You damn well knew the answer to that question and Zayne only flickered you a look knowing the same. It seemed as if you wanted to rile him up today.

No matter, as patience was his virtue for today. And perhaps for the rest of his life.

“Only on special occasions,” he joked as his eyes met yours again.

“Our movie nights are a special occasion to you?” You mused as a chuckle leaves you. “I’m honored.”

“Is it not for you?” Zayne shot back. “Anything that has to do with you is a special occasion in my book.”

Pink dusted the apples of your cheeks, but you looked away and hopefully fast enough for Zayne to miss. And maybe he did, but one thing is for sure is that he most definitely did not miss the clear view of your red-tipped ears when you turned.

Zayne feigned a laugh and tried his awful best to suppress the smile that threatened to plaster his face.

Clearing your throat, you look back towards him, sitting up a bit higher now that you pulled yourself together.

“Tell me then,” you continued, “tell me what you were thinking about.”

His brows furrowed, “I believe thoughts are meant to be private.”

“Not all the time,” you argued with a look on your visage he could not quite pinpoint. “If anything, I share my thoughts with you all the time.”

Zayne leaned back as curiosity laced his words. “Oh, really? Enlighten me, then.”

You smiled, basically a reflex in your nature as your pulse quickened. You leaned closer, the gap between you deteriorated by the inch. You paused and your gaze fell upon his lips for the umpteenth time tonight. Reflex, again. Hesitance gripped at your neck but the words were not lost to you, “I dreamt of you…” you swallowed, though Zayne’s expression was as still as ice.

Perhaps you had finally rendered the man speechless as to you, it would have been a flawless and ever-sought-after victory, but rather you could see his calculated thoughts in his irises—dark and dilated. You would have been sucked into the black hole of him if you weren’t careful.

You watched as his Adam's apple bobbed. A swallow, a nervous habit, a sign of weakness, a clearing in the woods.

“Was I in a panda suit again?” he replied in a hushed voice. 

You shook your head.

“Then what?”

“I can’t spare any more details, unfortunately.” You leaned back, regaining that space but Zayne only follows suit and shrinks that gap once more.

“Why?”

“It’s your turn now,” you pointed out. “It’s only fair.”

Zayne pursed his lips together, and yet he does not pull away, he does not cower. Instead, he stayed, hand pressing into the mattress right by your leg as if to test the waters. You had every opportunity to move away, to stop what this was from happening and yet the chance was never taken.

To have presented him with such a favorable circumstance made him wonder if his wishes were finally granted. That someone watching above decided that this was the moment for him to stop waiting and to want more.

His eyes dart to your mouth, a perfectly innocuous and coincidental look. But the corner of your lips twitch and Zayne finds himself reaching for you.

At first it was a light touch, barely grazing you with his cold fingertips as they brushed against your chin, then up your jaw, until he found purchase with your cheek in the palm of his hand. You leaned into his touch, a habit you never knew you had as he pulled you in closer.

Zayne’s thumb lined the perimeter of your plump lips, brushing over the corner as it twitched again.

“I think you know,” he sighed.

And just like his fingers, Zayne’s lips just barely brush against yours. A tease if anything, and you wanted nothing more than to curse this man and his goddamn patience. His habit was anything but a blessing as you ignored all the restraint you had built up over the years and kissed him.

Properly this time.

His hands are on your face as if they were made to be there, perfect puzzle pieces nuzzled together as he kisses you back, deeper and deeper. You moan into his mouth, muffled between your lips as he hungrily devoured your lips.

Your fingers found themselves coursing through his dark locks, messing his neatly parted hair but Zayne concluded he had not a single care in the world now that he finally had you in his arms.

Your exploring fingers eventually made their way towards his neck, earning a sharp exhale from him before they wrapped around his tie.

You bring him forward, falling back onto the mattress with him on top of you. Zayne pulls away for a brief moment, devouring the sight of you and your hair splayed all over his pillows. It was just as he imagined again and again, alone in his bed with a never ending ache he could not satiate unless he succumbed to the tug and pull of his hand.

“I thought of us,” He says once his lips find yours again. His words were a mere whisper now, “and being tender like this.”

He desired so violently for you, but now his patience is nowhere to be seen.

He tugged at his tie.

Zayne could no longer wait.

NOO STOPPP :((( MY POOR BABIES 😭😭

ZAYNE TAKE ME BACK PLS

Zayne & Rafayel: Married to...

Warning: Angst no comfort. Major character death. implied suicide. Drama. Self insert. AFAB!reader.

Author's note: I was supposed to upload another thing but my tumblr is having problems so i hope y'all could settle for this in the meantime...

Zayne:

It was a bittersweet sensation. Seeing you at the front of the stage, wearing the gown you always dreamed of wearing. It was the most beautiful gown he had ever seen, yet the soft, warm glow of the chandelier made you prettier than the dress.

He was reluctant to attend your wedding; after all, he, too, proposed to you back when you were together. He got on his knee as well and offered you the ring you kept eyeing when you went on that particular date. He placed it on your finger, and from that point on, he thought that you were his future.

His foolish thinking blinded him to other possibilities. He didn't know where it went wrong, but all he knew was that he lost you and that your kindness to end it on nice terms with him was a double-edged sword.

Perhaps a part of him wished you never got along once you canceled the engagement. Maybe it would've been easier for him to move on. Maybe...

He could've used your anger as an excuse to not see you ever again.

But the heavens wished otherwise.

Much to his dismay, he never truly had an excuse to turn down your wedding invitation. You wished the best for each other and bid farewell on that chilly morning; he dropped you off at your house, wanting to embrace you and wipe away your tears that never stopped streaming.

Zayne, despite being the collected and intuitive man that he is, waited for you to at least call him back. You never did. Only the universe knows how many times he wanted to call you and how many times he wrote you a message only to delete it. But after a few months, he never once thought that the first time you ever contacted him again was to send him a wedding invitation.

The world was too cruel.

He gifted you both some old champagne, one that was recommended to him by Yvonne; it was the very same champagne he would open for you had you managed to celebrate your first wedding anniversary with him.

The rest of the reception was bleak. He couldn't recall things quite clearly despite not touching a single glass of alcohol. Those few hours, he was left in a daze, teetering between joy and grief, with him congratulating you face to face being his respite. He was happy that you were happy in the embrace of your new husband, and although another chapter awaits your life, his had come to a standstill.

The passage of time felt faster than it did, yet when you, your husband, and your daughter visited him for your child's check-up, only then was he reminded of where he was. It had been years since you ended your relationship with Zayne, but he clung to the memory of you every day.

Nothing changed for him. You were happily married with a child, and he was still working in the hospital as the chief surgeon, the only difference being he's now focusing more on research. It was unfortunate that his feelings didn't change, too.

Maybe in the next life, he'll get to stand next to you in front of the altar.

Rafayel:

Before him stood a painting.

A painting of you on the beach holding hands with your current husband. Under the moonlight, the painting seemed dull, devoid of the color that he ever so loved putting. It was an ugly painting, barely able to capture the smile you made on that day. Your husband's face was blurred in the painting, seemingly almost finished. The brush strokes were gentle, blending into one another, yet as the layers of paint built up, the strokes were sharper, rigid, almost seemingly cold, and coated with anger.

And it was precisely because of that that he scrapped it. And as he did, he pulled another canvas. It was a gift for you, a remembrance of a new beginning in your life and the end for Rafayel. He wished that even if you never got together in the end, there would still be remnants of him in your home.

He gave you a different painting. It was still at the beach, yet rather than blue, the sky was colored orange and red, and your bodies and faces turned into silhouettes, yet embracing one another. He couldn't capture your husband's face. You were beautiful in his painting, immaculate even, yet he can't ever recall the expression your husband made simply because he was imagining himself in that position.

With enough alcohol, Rafayel mustered the courage and energy to make the best piece he could; he wanted to see you light up once he gave you the painting. He wanted your smile to be the last memory rather than your tears when you broke up.

"Congratulations," he remembered saying to you.

"Thank you, Raf."

Your voice played in his head over and over again like a broken record. The alcohol swirled everything in sight, and seemingly, the only thing he could make sense of was the harsh crashing of the waves outside his home.

The night was the darkest at that hour. He reeked of alcohol.

Rafayel dropped the empty whiskey bottle onto his floor, hearing it shatter loudly. He picked up the biggest shard and dug it onto the canvas before him. Once, twice, thrice; he slashed the image of your husband, yet your figure was never harmed. He wasn't angry, no. He was grieving.

He flung the canvas away, disregarding whatever it crashed into, and the moment he did, another canvas stood against the wall.

He stared at it for a minute and then looked at the sea once more.

He felt happy, like a sense of pressure lifted off of his heart. With slow steps and feet against the cold parquet floor, he walked to the outside of his home, through the neglected garden, and to the sandy shoreline.

Every splash and whisper of the waves soothed his mind. The blank sky became a canvas for his thoughts. I love you's, I'm sorry's, and thank you's mingling with one another, incoherent. The image of your smile warmed up his body against the growing tide that crept to his waist. A phantom of an embrace, numbing the sharp, cold breeze against his damp back.

He waited for you for more than 800 years.

He's grown tired. He still wanted to wait, but he deserves some rest.

Emptiness washed over Rafayel as he continued to walk farther from the sandy terrain.

Nobody heard his woes, not a single soul; the only thing he left behind was that big canvas that captured his unfulfilled wishes.

The image of you kissing him under the moonlight.

His smile and yours are as vivid as they can be.

He'll wait for you again in the next life, but until then—

he'll rest with the sea.

Author footnotes: No footnotes but poor Rafayel.

Layout by me, using Canva premium | Do not repost |

omg his voice is so auGH 🤭😊

IMAGINE WAKING UP NEXT TO HIM PLEASEEE

If the last thing I hear before I die is Sylus’ morning voice, I’ll die happy 😮‍💨