Fluffybuns22

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⟣ Dawnbreaker Zayne x reader

⟣ Sexual content, 18+, unprotected sex, so soft i made myself cry

⟣ 1,500 words

⋆⁺₊❅.

Your body felt unanchored, as if you were gliding weightlessly through the bleak expanse of the studio apartment with Zayne at your side.

Your surroundings blurred into the background—a shabby couch faced a makeshift projector in a lonely room, with a lone window where a single jasmine bloom rested on the sill.

The room was shrouded in darkness, save for the moon's comforting glow as it spilled across the floor and softened the shadows. Outside, the world mirrored this desolation, quiet as a breath, the skeletal frame of Linkon City stood towering in the distance.

The sensation of weightlessness persisted as Zayne guided you toward a small, unnoticed room. Candlelight seeped through the doors narrow crack, drawing your hand toward the door knob with a sense of urgency you couldn’t explain.

Softly, his hands brushed your hair aside, his touch cradling your face as he kissed you gently. “Do you trust me?” His question was simple, yet left you bewildered—surely he knew the answer.

However, the insistent pull toward the closed door lingered, so you calmed yourself with a slight nod. Zayne’s voice was soft, it was barely there—“I need your trust now more than ever. What lies beyond that door wont make sense to you. But please, hold on to your love for me.”

His words left you tilting your head gently, eyes wide with curious uncertainty. Your curiosity nudged your hand toward the door again, and this time, he let you proceed.

The wooden door creaked softly under your touch, swinging open to reveal a dimly lit room. It was just as bare as the last, holding only an iron bed draped with a worn black comforter.

A flicker of black caught in the corner of your eye, leading you to gently drift toward it. Confusion welled up as you turned—Zayne stood before you, but with a change of clothes; He had swapped his formal slacks for well-worn pajama pants and a cozy black sweater.

“Zayne?” you whispered into the air, your voice gentle and almost weightless, uncertain if it had reached the figure who offered no reaction in return.

Suddenly, a gentle presence was behind you—arms encircled your waist, pulling you close. Though you could see Zayne standing before you, you knew without a doubt that it was him who held you, without needing to look.

You remained still in his arms, your gaze locked on the presence by the window, as if it alone held significance. he pressed a gentle kiss to your ear, murmuring, “I need you to take care of me.” with those words, he vanished.

Left in the stillness, you observed the figure before you, who certainly looked every bit like Zayne. Your bare feet glided silently across the floor until you stood before him. You tilted your head and whispered—”Zayne.” not as a question, but a statement. You understood the figure needed to hear it.

His voice, though touched by an unfamiliar melancholy, was a familiar soothing caress along your skin. “I am not Zayne.”

You approached him softly, without hesitation, cupping his face and looking into his eyes. Eyes so sad that it pained you—it was almost unbearable. You poured every ounce of your love into your stare, drawing him closer.

Your voice was steady as you repeated, more resolute, “Zayne.” You could see he doubted you, felt the conflict in his as he trembled beneath your touch. He seemed as if he wanted to move away—but he stayed.

Drawn to him, you pressed your lips gently against his. He froze, eyes widening, emotions spilling over—disbelief, fear, desire. But as he searched your serene eyes, his trembling subsided just a little. His gaze lingered on your lips.

You could sense his desire to draw closer, yet he held himself back. When you kissed him again, it was deeper, and he melted into it with a soft sigh.

Despite his hesitation, you guided him to the edge of the bed. His expression was filled with uncertainty, almost as if unsure of how to proceed. Suddenly it because clear—This Zayne had never known love. “I need you to take care of me.” echoed in your mind as you traced the lines of his face.

You placed delicate kisses on his skin, his eyelids closing to accept them. The sigh he released when your lips met his was filled with agony. He still hadn’t touched you, his hands gripping the comforter tightly. You softly unfurled his fingers, guiding them to your cheek. “I need you, Zayne,” you pleaded. “Please, touch me.”

Your admission seemed to surprise him, prompting him to lift his other hand to cradle your face. Searching your gaze, he finally surrendered.

This time, he pressed his lips to yours, his touch reverent. You pressed your body against his and he kissed you again and again until both of you were breathless.

As you gently pulled away, you held his gaze, slowly removing your top—the unfamiliar shirt you wore was somehow tied to the Zayne before you. His eyes followed it’s gentle descent to the floor. You stood bare before him, overwhelmed by the grief and longing in his gaze.

Tenderly, you lifted his sweater, letting your fingers glide over his chest. His eyes followed every movement—watching your hands trace his skin, your lip catching between your teeth, your eyes taking in his form with hunger. As you placed kisses to his skin, your lips made a mark over his heart.

Meeting his gaze, you whispered, “so you know that this was real.” Tears brimmed in his eyes, and as they spilled over, you captured them with your lips. You eased him back against the headboard, straddling his thighs.

He grinded against you with a soft whimper as he felt your damp heat soaking through his pants. You gently brought his forehead to yours, grinding against him in a slow, steady rhythm. His eyes grew heated as they roamed your body, taking their time to memorize every inch.

You brought his hand to your breast, guiding him to knead it firmly. A soft groan escaped his lips as he squeezed harder, and your whimper lit a fire in his eyes. He captured your breast in his mouth while his hand attended to the other. With each movement, his touch grew bolder, his hands gripping your hips as he gently guided you against him, his mouth never straying from your chest.

You tilted his face gently, meeting his serene, lust-filled gaze. The sight filled you with indescribable joy. Lifting up, you helped him free his length, wrapping your hand around his shaft and covering it in his essence. He blushed fiercely—but as you licked your fingers clean, you hoped to ease his worries; the heat in his eyes made it clear that it had worked. His low groan when his skin connected with yours was utterly perfect.

Slowly, you eased him into you, feeling every inch as he pulled you close, resting his head on your shoulder as he bottomed out. His body trembled beneath you, and you felt the gentle patter of his tears on your skin. You lifted his chin again, locking eyes with him as your hips began to move in a steady rhythm.

His hands traced the contours of your body, but his gaze remained on yours. He filled you completely, fitting perfectly within you, as if you were made for each other. His tears continued to fall freely. You paused, an unspoken question in your eyes. His gaze was open and sincere when he whispered, “I will miss you even more, now.” Your own tears brimmed over as you held him tightly, promising with all your heart, “I will find you again, Zayne."

Entwined so tightly, it was hard to distinguish whose tears were whose as they mingled on your skin. Your bodies moved as one, every touch and kiss infused with overwhelming grief and passion. His name escaped you in a broken sob, echoing into the still night. Together, you reached your peak; Zayne pulling you hard against him as his warmth filled every inch of you. He couldn’t stop kissing you afterward, his touches more fervent that ever, silently pleading for this moment to last.

You reassured him softly, “I won’t leave you. Not tonight." Again, you somehow knew this to be true—you had the entire night to share your love. He relaxed with a soft sigh, drawing you to the bed and wrapping you in his arms.

His touch held no hesitation now. He kept you close, wrapped in his embrace, as the night unfolded. You showered him with love, pouring everything you had into each moment.

You stayed together as long as possible. Time seemed to stand still, with the moon perpetually suspended in the sky. As exhaustion crept in, and you both succumbed to sleep, Zayne’s arms instinctively tightened, clinging to you.

You were certain he heard your whispered vow, “I will find you again, Zayne” Upon waking his gaze met yours knowingly, with a faint bruise above his heart—an unspoken acknowledgement to what you both understood.

A distant memory lingered: a whispered “Thank you” as sleep had beckoned you away.