#ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐱𝐞𝐩𝐡'𝐬 writing nook
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𝕋𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤
Pairing: Rafayel x Fem!Reader
Prompt: “You left me to drown.”
Words: ~2.2k
Genre: Light Angst, Comfort, Suggestive (mild)
The sky was awash with streaks of crimson and gold bleeding into the indigo expanse, signaling the impending dusk.
You stopped beside the colossal sea stack, admiring the breathtaking view. Waves crashed against the weathered rocks with gentle tranquility, a stark contrast to the turmoil within your heart.
“Are you done running?” a whispered voice carried away by the salty breeze.
Voice that you hadn’t heard for almost a year.
You couldn’t help the wry chuckle escaping your lips. “Last time I remember, I was the one waking up to an empty bed after a night of giving myself to you.”
Your skin involuntarily tingled with the residual sensation of his touch. His lips, warm and insistent, had traced a map of pleasure across your skin, exploring every curve and contour with a thoroughness that left you breathless and wanting more.
Months-long restrained emotion bubbled up to the surface. "Thomas couldn't find you, your aunt couldn't find you, even your bodyguard couldn't find you. So pray tell Rafayel, are you done running?"
Even in the fading light, you could see him taken aback by the hostility dripping from your words.
“I thought you would be happy to see me after all of this time.”
Exasperatedly you turned towards him, finding him standing several steps away from you.
He looked the same, if not even more handsome, and you hated that it made the fury inside your heart momentarily dim.
All-white button-up and trousers hugged his figure, one he knew that you loved as if it was a tactic to unravel you. He was a blank canvas in the explosion of colours surrounding you both.
“No notes, no messages, all I'm left with is a ridiculously priced ring adorning my finger." You rubbed the now empty ring finger, still feeling the phantom weight of the gemstone.
He didn’t miss the gesture. “Did you not like the ring? Is that why you threw it away to the depth of the sea?”
“Is that all you can say after walking out of my life?” Your voice rising, annoyed at his nonchalance.
Annoyed at the absurdity of this situation like you hadn’t seen each other for months.
His brows furrowed at the accusation. “I did not walk out of your life, didn’t you receive the stuff I sent you?”
If he was referring to the plethora of stuff stacked inside a box under your bed collecting dust, then yes you did receive them.
You had attempted to decipher the meaning behind the items he sent each month, desperately trying to connect them with his whereabouts, but to no avail.
Even with the resources and connections Thomas had, Rafayel seemed to be always one step ahead, not leaving any breadcrumbs of where he might have gone next.
“You are present in all of my paintings; you remain a constant in my thoughts,” he continued when you remained silent.
Since his departure, new paintings arrived biweekly or monthly at Mo Art Studio, each delivery serving as a soothing balm for Thomas's weary soul.
It wasn't until his manager pointed out certain colour choices and what you had always considered random lines and patterns that you began to notice elements of yourself in his paintings; the shade of your irises, the main lines on your palms, the arch of your eyebrows watching his antics.
You gritted your teeth. “Provide a reasonable explanation for your lack of verbal communication.”
He tore away from your gaze, suddenly looking timid, hand rubbing the back of his neck. It was a habit of his whenever he felt nervous. “I embark on a self-discovery,” he began.
“I needed some time for internal reflection. It allows me to really dive deep into my thoughts and emotions without any external distractions—just let me explain first,” he said rapidly before you could chide him on thinking that you were a distraction.
Honestly, you couldn’t even voice out any response as that wasn’t the answer you were expecting.
“I've been overly reliant on you, and limiting our communication forced me to depend on my own. I want to be someone you can rely on instead; someone you can lean and depend on.”
“What about that woman, then?” you blurted out, the question heavy on the tip of your tongue ever since you had first come across the article.
It had been seven months and two weeks since his absence when you stumbled upon the article.
Normally, you weren't particularly tuned into the fashion industry, but somehow the news from Nexusburg had found its way onto your daily curated feed.
You had vaguely recognised the designer’s striking face and figure. Your attention, however, zoomed in on those unmistakable tendrils of dusky purple hair, despite most of his head being obscured by the dark tint of the limousine’s window.
“I commissioned her to create… something of great significance.” You sensed ambiguity lacing his words. “You know how reporters constantly fabricate stories that lack truth."
“Do they, really? Lack of truth?”
Rafayel approached you with hesitant steps, fearing you might slip away from his advance.
“You left me to drown, Rafayel." The words pierced through him like shards of glass. “Drowning in ‘what if’s’, drowning in my insecurity.”
As he drew near, he took in the multitude of emotions playing across your face: hurt, confusion, anger.
“You were gone for eight months. Eight months! Did you believe that merely slipping a ring onto my finger would make me feel better for your absence?”
The anger drained your body of energy as you sank onto the rock behind. Jagged edges kept you painfully aware that this was reality, not a mere figment of your imagination.
“I'm sorry,” he pleaded.
"You're selfish, Rafayel," your voice trembled with a mixture of anger and hurt. "You know my insecurity gets the best of me at times, and yet you didn't even stop to think for once on how I would feel…this is not the first time."
You could see the moment realisation began to flicker in his bluish-pink eyes.
When Rafayel hired a new female bodyguard and began spending a significant amount of time with her, it left you feeling uneasy.
It wasn’t until his own bodyguard confronted him in front of you, chastising him for neglecting your feelings and the lack of communication as she noticed your distress, that you finally felt at ease with their relationship. You understood their brother-sister dynamics.
But this time, days turn to weeks, and weeks turn to months since you last saw him. Doubts began to plague your mind.
“It was nothing like that,” he protested. “Nexusburg was my last stop. I had thought of returning as soon as the designer finished her work.”
The article's prominently highlighted phrase 'SECRET ROMANCE' had stirred your restless heart to its breaking point that day.
You recalled standing atop the very sea stack towering behind you, witnessing the light glinting off the ring as you cast it into the unforgiving waves below.
"You went on a journey of self-discovery, but it seems like you've forgotten why you needed it in the first place.”
Rafayel's heart constricted with guilt. “I never meant to make you feel that way, I—I thought you would understand.”
Then, he retrieved something from his pocket, causing your breath to catch in your throat.
“How…?!”
The marquise-cut lilac tanzanite glimmered with a captivating hue, casting a hypnotic light against the backdrop of twilight skies. Delicate accents of soft pink pearls surrounded the gemstone, lending a gentle touch to the intricate design.
It still managed to steal your breath away, its beauty as enchanting as ever.
"I specifically requested the bijoutier to blend my crushed scales into the band. It brings me comfort knowing that you’re safe, and knowing that you think of me whenever you touch it.”
He traced his finger along the smooth surface of the gemstone, the memory of him quietly placing the ring while you slept was as clear as yesterday in his mind.
The outline of your figure etched against the soft glow of dawn. Vivid shade of pinkish-red blemishes against your skin, evidence of the intense night shared between the two of you.
“It motivates me to finish my journey, so I can return to your embrace as soon as possible… Until you threw it away and I thought of the worst.”
You gazed at him in disbelief as he unveiled that the ring held far greater significance than you had ever imagined.
Who would have thought that he could charm the ring that way? Everything slowly made sense why he had immediately called you repeatedly moments after you threw the ring.
Then there was Aunt Talia rushing towards you, tousled and wide-eyed, far from her normally immaculate appearance as you made your way back down.
Barefooted, as if she had rushed out of her nearby house in a hurry.
He returned just two days after you had discarded the ring. When calls were left unanswered, he enlisted Thomas and his bodyguard.
You had threatened to call the police on Thomas when he couldn’t stop appearing in front of your front door. His bodyguard, the only one with a working mind it seemed, nodded in understanding and promptly ushered Thomas away from your doorstep.
“The ring reminds me of you,” longing laced your voice.
As you glanced down at the beauty, the sparkling gemstone and pearls seemed to reflect his hair and eye colour. Its elaborate design mirrored his complexity; intricate and beautiful yet multifaceted.
“And here I thought that you didn’t like the pearls I handpicked… I knew that it was too good to be true when the oysters were being friendlier than usual.”
Pale skin crimsoned as he snapped his mouth shut. His flow of thoughts always seemed to have a mind of their own, escaping from his mouth before he could rein them in.
It was frustrating how you still found it endearing, even at times like this. Perhaps the lover you knew hadn’t changed much after all.
A heavy sigh escaped your lips, "Rafayel, you can't just waltz into my life again as if nothing happened.”
"I know I messed up, Y/N," he admitted, his eyes pleading for understanding. “But I couldn’t stand away any longer."
Despite your anger towards his actions, you couldn't deny how much you had missed him too.
He inched closer, giving you plenty of time to move away, however, you remained rooted to the spot.
Familiar strands of dusky purple hair, the very ones you had passionately tangled your fingers in as he ravished you the last time, just within arm's reach now.
A hand reached out, moving away your salty-breeze ruffled hair from covering your face.
"Why did you choose to see me again at last?"
Aunt Talia had invited you for a high tea, weeks after Rafayel's persistent attempts to see you finally ceased. Deep down, you knew that this was another attempt made by him.
But you remembered how the older woman had opened her doors whenever the insecurity became too strong during his absence, and it felt disrespectful to sever ties just because you weren't ready to face her nephew.
“Rafayel is coming,” Aunt Talia calmly said moments earlier.
The clink of her cup meeting the saucer caused you to jerk, tea sloshing around your rose-adorned cup dangerously.
“You’re free to leave anytime, I’m not going to force you to meet him.”
Looking up, you found orchid-coloured eyes boring into yours.
“Just keep in mind that he will never stop searching for you. Yes, he’s selfish, but you know how us, Lemurians, are,” she sighed then, “ We're relentless when it comes to protecting what we cherish. And you, my dear, hold a special place in his heart.”
"I needed to understand why you did what you did, why you left without a word,” you finally admitted.
Regret flickered his eyes. "I should have been more considerate.”
As his long fingers traced the curve of your jaw, your breath hitched. It had been too long since you felt his caress against your skin, and you found yourself longing for more.
Laboured breaths and dilated pupils told you that his body had reacted similarly. Finding the mutual desire in your eyes, he closed the gap between you without any word.
Lips collided in a fervent kiss. Fueled by a mix of pent-up pain and yearning. Each brush of his lips against yours was a plea for forgiveness, a desperate attempt to mend the fractures in your relationship.
Bodies molded together, fitting like pieces of a puzzle long overdue for completion. There was an insatiable hunger for each other that needed to be satisfied.
"I will wait for you, whenever you're ready to accept me again in your life," he murmured gently as his lips parted from yours.
You met his gaze, seeing the sincerity in those bright orbs you loved so much, and felt a tug at your heart. Silently, he took your hand and slid the ring back onto your finger, to its rightful place.
The same lips that you had just kissed earlier were now on top of the lilac gemstone.
“Keep this so I know that you’re safe, and whenever you’re ready—” Artist's palms cradled your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks lovingly. “I’ll be waiting for you at the end of the aisle, witnessing your beauty wearing the veil I've designed just for you."
As the light faded on the horizon, you realised that perhaps this love was worth fighting for, even if it meant navigating through the perilous waters of forgiveness and redemption.
#ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐱𝐞𝐩𝐡'𝐬 writing nook#love and deepspace#lads#l&ds#rafayel#rafayel x reader#rafayel x y/n#rafayel x you#light angst#comfort#suggestive
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𝕌𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝔹𝕠𝕟𝕕
Pairing: Zayne x Fem!Reader
Prompt: “I’ve built walls, and yet they crumble when I see you.”
Words: ~2.5k
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff
Notice: Y/N is not MC, Antagonist MC, Mentions of wounds
His childhood friend exuded energy just as vibrant as her Anhausen class Evol, captivating those around her with her bubbly demeanor.
However, beneath the cheerful façade lay a calculated use of charm, a trait you couldn't help but notice, especially in her interactions with Zayne.
As a senior hunter, your responsibilities included supervising new recruits, and you discerned her manipulative tendencies over time.
"Just because you've seen me at my weakest, you’re not entitled to pass judgment on those dear to me. It proves how I've known her longer and better, as she would never stoop so low as to speak ill of you. I don’t need you babysitting me."
Quick to defend his adored friend and seemingly caught up in emotion, he voiced those unfavorable words your way.
You knew Zayne was a direct person, but being on the receiving end of those words hurt. Especially as you later realized that you harbored feelings towards the cold doctor, feelings that had unknowingly woven into what you had always believed to be a purely platonic friendship between the two of you.
“—and you’re here because?”
His voice jolted you out of your reverie.
Somehow, standing in the exact spot where your last conversation occurred, resulting in months of silence between the two of you, had clouded your thoughts.
You cleared your throat, trying to focus back on the present moment. “Greyson and Yvonne have been trying to get in touch with you.”
When news about Dr. Zayne taking recuperative leave had spread like wildfire throughout the UNICORNS, you had considered reaching out to him.
Your fingers had hovered over the phone, composing and deleting messages repeatedly.
In the end, you completely abandoned the notion altogether when you heard his childhood friend’s not-so-subtly mentioning her plan to visit and cook for him while chatting with the short-haired girl from the Data Analysis sector.
“I’m fine,” he managed to huff out after a while.
Taking a swift glance at the unexpected mess on his kitchen counters—scattered papers and remnants of food packaging—you challenged him. "I thought we had moved beyond the superficial 'I'm fine' responses when asking about each other's well-being."
Zayne didn’t reply and you noted that he had absentmindedly leaned his long legs against the kitchen counter as if seeking support from it.
“You, the Chief Cardiac Surgeon of Akso Hospital, someone who enjoys his lack of free time, couldn't possibly have felt 'just fine' after being placed on recuperative leave."
“I wasn't aware that you still kept tabs on my whatabouts," he retorted, eyes slightly gleaming competitively. However, they lacked the usual spark; instead, they hinted at tiredness and something indefinable that looked familiar but you couldn't quite pinpoint.
“I understand that your friend has probably visited you, but my great buddies insisted I come and check on you. They didn’t want to pester, but after two days of no answer, they are beginning to worry.” You raised your hands in a gesture of surrender. “Though if I’m not welcome, I’ll leave you be.”
As you moved past him towards the front door, you felt yourself emotionally drained from the brief exchange.
“Why you, specifically?” his whisper caused you to stop in your tracks.
“They know we are—” you stopped yourself, “used to be each other’s confidant. They thought you might be willing to speak to me if not to them.”
He chuckled dryly. “Used to…”
His muttered words compelled you to turn. Your hunter’s awareness noticed how he had subtly shifted, leaning more against the counter with one hand supporting his weight while his body slightly hunched forward, facing your retreating figure.
His body trembled with involuntary shivers, and the silver-framed glasses that had been perched on his nose earlier now lay discarded on top of the black granite.
“What’s wrong?” The words spilled out of your mouth before you could stop them.
Your eyes instantly snapped to his arms, expecting to see the familiar bluish hue and the delicate, yet deadly patterns of ice crystals.
Instead, you saw fresh cuts on the back of his hand. Both of them.
A sound must have escaped your lips because Zayne quickly tugged at his light gray pajama sleeves, trying to cover his hands. He took a step back as he heard you stomping towards him.
Helplessly, he played a brief game of tug-of-war with you before yielding to your unexpected strength.
“What the hell,” you breathed out as you took the angry red marks marring his pale skin, making them stand out more. When you rolled up his sleeves further, you discovered fresh lacerations, a chilling reminder of the frost's icy grip.
You cupped his cheeks. It took his gaze a moment to gradually refocus on you, seemingly startled by the sudden skin contact. “Zayne, what happened?”
His lips were sealed shut. He began to resist, however, as you guided him towards his bedroom, but your hunter strength slightly won over his sluggish state.
Zayne watched you intensively check his wounds after you managed to get him to bed. They were more severe than the scratches you saw after you had cradled his frozen arms and succeeded in defrosting them using your Evol. It was when you found him beating himself up in regret for failing to save your partner during surgery.
As you stood up to fetch the medical supplies, his hand swiftly caught your forearm, surprising you with its speed. "You don’t have to take care of me," he insisted.
“Respectfully, Zayne,” you began, knowing he'd grimace at your next choice of words, “Fuck your pride and let me look after you.”
Seeing his familiar disapproving grimace at the brash word, you chuckled quietly to yourself.
Your boldness and recklessness often clashed with his calm and collected nature, one that left people wondering how a friendship could blossom between two such opposites.
As the antiseptic scent filled the air and silence enveloped the room while you tended to his arms, memories flooded back to the griefful night when you had lost your partner.
He had treated your temporarily forgotten battle wounds after the frost had thawed from his arms.
“It’s not your fault,” Zayne had spoken softly as he cleaned your wounds.
Your breath stuttered, surprised by the doctor's attempt to console you. Many people regarded him as highly reserved due to the carefully crafted mask of indifference he wore.
"The other staff told me what happened. You couldn’t have known that he was bitten; a child Chlorostaga leaves a very small puncture, and it would only feel like an ant has bitten you. With adrenaline running high, he wouldn’t have felt a thing."
“He told me that his heart was racing unusually fast during the transport back,” you whispered, feeling the tears clouding your vision. “And I jokingly suggested he needed to do more exercise.
“He laughed at it until—“ you forced down the bile rising in your throat before being able to continue, “until he suddenly collapsed from cardiac arrest. We were only a few minutes out before arriving here to treat our wounds.”
Zayne continued gently dressing your gashes as you recounted the last moment with your partner. “His last memory was of happiness with you, feeling fulfilled knowing he had once again protected Linkon City from Wanderers... With his trusted partner."
The tears you had struggled to contain finally broke through, cascading down your cheeks in torrents. He held you close that day, offering comfort until every tear was dried.
From that moment, a bond seemed to form between both of you, drawing you closer from mere acquaintances to individuals you could trust with your deepest emotions. Only a few had ever witnessed each other's vulnerable state.
In the present, you noticed his breathing had calmed, and the hazel eyes that had been watching you carefully moments earlier had closed as you finished tending the last cut.
Gently smoothing out the crease between his brows, you couldn't help but wonder how troubled he must have been. “I’ve built walls, and yet they crumble when I see you,” you whispered, afraid of him hearing your secret.
You had tried to shield yourself from future heartache after you slammed his front door the day he had spoken harshly. Yet, seeing him so vulnerable, your caring for him only deepened.
Listening to the rhythmic sound of his breathing, an unexpected exhaustion washed over you like a tidal wave.
Sleep claimed you swiftly, and it wasn't until you felt Zayne's gentle touch on your shoulder that you awoke.
“You’re going to strain the muscle in the back of your neck sleeping like that.”
Still groggy from the unplanned nap, you couldn’t protest as Zayne easily deposited you to the space he occupied earlier, as if you weighed nothing.
Your skin flushed hot feeling his fleeting touch behind your knees. Blinking, you met his gaze as he settled back beside your feet on the bed, already looking much better than before.
As the heat from his body permeated the wool blend of his pajama pants, you could feel it warming the tips of your toes. “Are you feeling any better?”
He nodded, casting a glance down at his arms adorned with scattered adhesive strips. Awkwardness filled the air as you both grappled with the ever-present unresolved tension.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled softly. You looked up, startled.
"I'm sorry," he repeated more clearly. His hazel eyes, appearing browner under the dim lighting, seeking yours. "For saying those hurtful words to you, for failing to accompany you on mourning day."
Your eyes widened, surprised that he even remembered about the day that had occurred months earlier.
When he didn’t appear at the cemetery of fallen hunters on mourning day, an annual tradition to honor your late partner whom he couldn't save, you learned just how much he cherished his childhood friend.
While he hadn't explicitly promised to join every year, he had always done so without fail. At that time, you couldn't help but feel disappointed when you discovered he had spent the day with his childhood friend instead.
And perhaps, an ugly thorn of jealousy had begun to bloom inside your heart.
"Greyson gave me an earful after he found out about our... conflict, and then he pieced together why I was absent that day. Why didn’t you remind me?”
You broke away from his gaze, not prepared for the sudden query. “You are under no obligation to accompany me, so there's nothing to apologise for."
"I absolutely have to apologise, for on the day you mourn for your late partner the most, I callously had fun with my friend."
And there it was, his childhood friend once again stealing the spotlight in your conversation. You felt the barriers you erected creeping back into place.
"It's getting dark outside, I should head home," you said, retracting your legs and hurriedly standing up.
However, a warm hand on your wrist carefully pulled you back down, knee bumping with yours.
"I was ensnared by my memory of her innocence from our childhood," he confessed, voice heavy with regret. "She envied the deep connection we share and after overhearing your conversation with Yvonne, purposefully suggested a day trip to our hometown that exact day. She exploited my weakness for her gain, knowing my fond memories of our past together."
Zayne tenderly unraveled each of your tightly clenched fingers, soothing the nail marks that had etched into your palm.
It was one of your bad habits, surfacing whenever anxiety and stress took hold. Ever the observant person that he was, it was something he was well aware of.
Your breath hitched as he wove his fingers with yours, larger palm easily covering your smaller one.
"I'm the one who foolishly let myself be blinded and stooped so low, wrongly accusing you when your intentions were nothing but good-hearted." He swiped a hand over his face in frustration. “People praised me for my good judgement, but I evidently failed to make the most important one."
“And so this happened?” you gestured towards his arms with your other unoccupied hand. “Punishing yourself because you felt guilty for your lapse in judgment?”
She had heard bits and pieces of what happened from Greyson. The Chief Psychologist in the hospital had noticed Zayne’s peculiar behaviour for weeks—moments of zoning out and evident emotional distress.
Not wanting to jeopardise his patient’s health, he agreed to take a leave until he felt mentally prepared to return to his responsibilities, which required a clear mind above all else.
"No, it's me losing myself because I've taken advantage of the only person who understands me; to the extent of hurting that one person who, despite knowing her for a shorter time, has selflessly always been there for me." He placed a kiss on the back of your hand. "And fearing I may have already lost her, as I come to realize the depth of my feelings for her."
You whipped your head to fully face him, face flushed at his confession. His gaze unwavering, trapping you with fierce affection.
“You don’t need to say anything—”
“Zayne—”
“I just want to let you know that I’m sorry for causing you pain—”
“Zayne, I—”
“And I would understand if you don’t want to do anything with me again after everything that’s happened—”
"Zayne!" You moved to cover his mouth and lost your balance in the process, tumbling together onto the bed.
Him beneath you.
As you stumbled, his hand found the curve of your hip, supporting you from falling on top of him. While his other arm remained thrown over him, fingers still intertwined with yours amidst the sudden movement.
You could see him trying to mask his discomfort, no doubt feeling some of the deeper slashes being tugged.
"God, you really need to shut up sometime," you blurted out, catching Zayne off guard with your abrupt remark following his heartfelt revelation.
This close, you could see his pupils dilating at your close proximity, almost consuming the green in his eyes.
With profound confidence and a fuzzy feeling spreading inside your heart, you eased his mind. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The content smile painting his lips tugged at your heart. It was a genuine happiness that chipped away his usual cold demeanor.
He squeezed your hip and slowly urged you to lay on top of him, a silent invitation to be closer. Strong arms circled around as you nestled your head against his throat, enveloping you in his scent—grounding, and slightly musky, like the scent of a forest after rainfall.
“I never want you to lose control of your Evol over me again,” you warned him, eyes closing as you felt his lips pressing on your forehead.
“I can’t promise, but—” he interjected before you could interrupt him. “I’ll work on myself for the better. It’s the least I can do for the one who holds the dearest place in my heart.”
When you opened your eyes again, you could finally pinpoint that familiar glint in his eyes, the one you noticed when you confronted him hours earlier in the living room; it was endearment.
As you lay down on his bed that night, fingers gently combing through his tousled midnight-black hair as he rested against your chest, it dawned on you that the glow of affection had been there all along, subtly shimmering in his eyes throughout the years whenever you were by his side.
#ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐱𝐞𝐩𝐡'𝐬 writing nook#love and deepspace#lads#l&ds#zayne#zayne x reader#zayne x y/n#zayne x you#hurt/comfort#fluff
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𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤 ℝ𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕗
Pairing: Zayne x Fem!Reader
Words: ~3.3k
Genre: Suggestive
Notice: 3rd person POV, Mentions of alcohol, Slight OOC Zayne (not a teetotaler)
"I know a healthier way to relieve stress, doctor."
Alcohol-induced thoughts had rolled off her tongue effortlessly.
She had expected his towering build to abruptly rise and leave her right there, appalled by the provocative comment. A disgusted expression or an unexpected snort would be acceptable too.
Yet, when she finally dared to face him, those sharp eyes locking with hers was not something she expected. Overflowing intensity caused her skin to tingle.
“You shouldn’t offer what you can’t deliver, Ms. Y/N,” his lowered voice warned her, sending a chill down her spine on hearing the way he had addressed her so formally, just like when they were in the meeting room.
The room suddenly spun, but not from the alcohol. No, she only had two bottles of beer, just enough to loosen her tongue like this.
The response in her throat dried as she saw him sipping his whiskey sans ice, Adam apple’s bobbing as he swallowed the deep amber liquid after letting it linger in his mouth, taking in the smoky flavour.
“Well?” Perfectly arched brow challenged her.
Heart pounding rapidly in her chest, she took one last gulp from the barely touched third bottle to calm her nerves before subtly cocking her head to the bar’s exit.
It was one of the rare moments she had seen him smirk and not in response to a challenge in the medical field.
The faint creaking from the bar stool was loud in her ears as he stood up, settling both of their bills with the bartender, and leaving a hefty tip. His surprisingly warm palm rested low on her hip as he guided her to his black sedan.
Mesmerizing city lights blurred. Her attention drawn solely to the sensation of his thumb slowly drawing circles on her thigh.
Next thing she knew, her back was pressed against the back of his front door, lips locked in a passionate battle filled with intense desire that made her knees buckle.
The strong thigh nestled between her heated core was the only thing stopping her from melting into a puddle on his floor. The friction, a welcome bliss, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her.
That was the beginning of the agreement, becoming a recurring occurrence whenever both of them needed to blow off steam from the stresses of demanding jobs. Him, saving lives, and her, dealing with difficult clients.
“Thank you for being my stress relief.”
His words cut through her second post-orgasm haze like ice water.
Somewhere along the line of what was supposed to be a no-strings-attached arrangement, small things like having a late-night snack together to deeper conversation during pillow talks grew to be a regular part of the deal.
Feelings for him had begun to bloom, much like the flowers outside with the arrival of warmer weather.
“Are you okay?” The sound of rustling sheets reminded her that she had been silent for too long while staring emptily at his ceiling.
“Yeah,” she simply replied.
Not satisfied with the answer, she felt Zayne’s fingertips lightly tracing above her collarbone, gently checking patches of skin that had turned reddish. They would undoubtedly be bruised by the next day.
“Was I too rough?”
Hands roamed greedily over her curves, warm lips on the sensitive dips and folds that he had become well acquainted with, growls of desire, and powerful thrusts flashed through her mind.
She tried to suppress the memories, though her body still hummed from the aftereffects. “No, just tired.”
He carefully took hold of her chin, noticing that she had been avoiding his gaze. "Y/N, you know you can talk to me, right?" his voice filled with concern.
“I think that’s the problem.”
Zayne’s calculated hazel orbs bore into hers, searching for the meaning behind her words.
“I’m not sure if you notice, Zayne, but for a casual arrangement, things are starting to get complicated.”
It was his turn to drop his gaze. For someone as bright as him, it would be impossible for the situation to go over his head.
He too must have realised the way their dynamic had changed over time; they had spent more time together in and out of the bedroom.
At times, they’d simply cuddle through the nights, providing a safe haven without the necessity for words.
She held her breath. There was no going back now. "It's starting to feel like more than just sex—it has been for some time.”
Retracted fingers sent a clear sign that he was about to take a step back, the gesture as clear as the darkness enveloping the night. The guarded mask was back once he met her gaze again.
"We both agreed that this was meant to be casual. I don't want either of us to end up getting hurt."
It sounded like an automated response even to his ears. He grimaced.
Y/N's heart sank. Despite the obvious signal of his withdrawal, his words still pierced her heart. "I see," she said quietly, distancing herself from him slightly.
Zayne could sense her disappointment and reached out to touch her arm. "Hey, Y/N, it's not that I don't care about you. I just…” his words faltered.
"I understand," she said, forcing a smile. "I believe it might be best if we stop doing this then."
He breathed out slowly. "Yeah, you may be right.”
A curt nod was directed at him. "I should probably get going anyway."
“Don’t be silly, it’s past midnight,” Zayne immediately stood up, trying to stop her. She tried hard not to look down at his abs or any other part of his anatomy. “I’m not asking you to leave. You can take the bed and I’ll sleep on the couch if you want.”
“I just prefer to sleep on my own bed tonight, but thank you for the offer.”
He watched as she quickly slipped on her clothes and gathered her things.
“Let me drop you off at least,” he pleaded.
"I'll take the 24-hour taxi on the corner of your street and send you my location," she shut him down with the same assertive tone she used when closing deals.
As he closed the door behind her, a part of him wished she hadn't seen him at the bar that evening when he had let his heart rule over his brain.
“What is it?” Zayne took the pen out of his pocket and began to add his notes to the patient’s file.
When no response came from the direction of his office door, he exasperatedly looked up, about to shoot daggers at whoever was interrupting him.
Greyson, his assistant and regrettably a close friend out of work, stood in place, watching his every move.
“Less than fifteen minutes to the meeting; you were normally ready half an hour before that.”
The grip on the pen tightened as he concentrated back on jutting his notes down, making sure he didn’t miss any important details.
“I have some urgent things to attend to earlier.”
Greyson hmmed. “Yeah, things that you normally assign to the junior doctors so they can 'practice more' as you often phrase it."
Zayne knew that engaging with Greyson was futile since he would never win—a rarity, given that he would typically be the one in Greyson's shoes in any other situation.
“Let’s go, don’t want to be late for such an important meeting.”
As Greyson walked one step ahead of him, he did shoot daggers at the back of his friend's head all the way to the meeting room.
Nervous fingers, poised to adjust the tie, froze in place as he noticed Yvonne sent Greyson a knowing look once they entered the conference room before setting her eyes on him.
“Ah, Doctor Zayne and Doctor Greyson are here,” the hospital administrator greeted them from his seat.
He cleared his throat. “Apologies for running late.”
“Not at all, Doctor Zayne. You are, in fact, right on time,” Y/N said, acknowledging him after finishing setting up her laptop for the presentation.
"It's good to have you back, Ms. Y/N,” Greyson said as he took the seat across from him.
“Likewise, Doctor Greyson.”
“No offense to your colleague, but we were afraid we’d get a new account manager.”
The smile faltered slightly on her lips, clearly taken aback by his assistant’s nonsensical comment. “I had a business trip last time, which was why I had asked my colleague to step in for me.”
“We find that consulting with you is a more enjoyable process for us, as you're familiar with our requirements, isn’t that right, Doctor Zayne?"
Greyson’s sudden query left him unprepared. He sent his friend a quick warning glance before nodding, afraid that his carefully crafted pretense of nonchalance would slip away.
“Right, since everybody is here, should we start the meeting then?” the purchasing manager spoke when he finally put his phone down, not paying attention to the conversation as he was busy texting anyway. “Ms. Y/N, what new devices do you have for us?”
As Y/N started her presentation, Yvonne’s hushed words reached his ears, “Would you like some water, doctor?” The nurse’s hand appeared in his line of vision, handing him a bottle of water.
“Thank you,” he replied, making the mistake of looking into the nurse's eyes. Her perceptive gaze told him she knew how surprisingly affected he was by Y/N’s presence.
For once, he regretted instilling in those who work under him the importance of being observant of their surroundings.
Y/N’s fingers traced the rim of the glass, lost in the haunting cadence of the singer's voice.
The lady poured her heart into each note. Each lyric dripped with the bittersweet of longing, a testament to love that lingered just beyond reach.
“Pretty uneventful for a celebratory night, don’t you think?” The bartender—Ethan, she had learned his name—approached her again once the end of the workweek crowd had slowly dispersed.
“Perhaps,” she replied, “but it allows me to rearrange my thoughts.”
She had found unexpected companionship with the bartender, who had recognised her from the night her loose tongue had led her into a difficult situation with Zayne.
Despite its prime location at Moonshadow Avenue, the jazz bar remained a hidden gem, often overlooked by the bustling crowds.
It was the perfect place to enjoy some time alone outside the confines of her home, feeling it a little too empty lately.
“People normally do that within the privacy of their home,” he responded knowingly. There was a kindness in his eyes, a silent reassurance that she wasn't alone in her solitude.
She sent him a small smile and savored the final drop of the ruby-hued liquid. A delicate hint of orange zest, weaving through the complex herbaceous notes, warmed her body.
Ethan took the empty glass. “And that, ma’am, is the last glass for tonight.”
When he saw her let out a playful huff despite the buzz that she was feeling, he offered a gentle warning, “Negronis can sneak up on you quicker than you think. Wouldn't want you making any bad decisions now, would we?”
"Alright, dad." Y/N playfully rolled her eyes to his retreating figure, feeling grateful for his watchful care.
As the band moved on to another piece, she cast a look around the room. Couples were huddled together, allowing intimate conversations to blend with the somber tones of saxophones and pianos.
The warm, honeyed glow from antique lamps illuminated their faces, creating playful shadows dancing across their features. Every exchanged smile spoke volumes of love in a myriad of languages shared between them.
Feeling a churn inside her heart, she grabbed her purse, ready to call it a night.
“It’s on the house,” Ethan tutted after serving another patron.
“I had more than one glass tonight,” she warned and slid the card to him.
“If I ever undergo heart surgery at Akso—God forbid,” he knocked on the polished bar to ward off any bad luck. “I’ll make sure to thank you personally for the devices you sold to them.” With that, he slid the card back across the bar.
Y/N shook her head at his antics and handed him a generous trip instead. “Thank you, but just this once.”
“Anytime, milady,” he quipped, bowing dramatically. “Get home safely.”
She waved goodnight and stumbled a bit, the buzz from the drink intensifying as she rose from the stool. Ethan’s advice was spot on—any more drinks and she might have found herself spinning along with the room, tripping her way out the door.
The cool breeze of the spring night air hit her, a welcoming sensation that helped clear her head. Phone in hand, ready to order a ride, she thought she caught a whiff of a sterile smell, a scent that reminded her of the corridors at the hospital.
Heart racing, she looked up at the sound of a familiar voice softly uttering her name.
“Y/N?” he called out again as she blinked at him.
It was Zayne, still clad in the white shirt and light beige cotton vest combo he had worn earlier in the day, looking like he just finished his shift.
Though he had rolled up his sleeves, allowing the world to get a sight of his strong forearms.
A faint sigh slipped from his lips as he extended a finger in front of her face, moving it from left to right, checking to see if her eyes focused on it.
“You’ve been drinking more than I thought.”
“What are you doing here?” Y/N countered, not expecting to see him.
Those unmistakable hazel eyes peered down at her, before looking to the side, lost in contemplation.
“I need to see you. Figured you might have frequented this bar again and I was right.”
Her mouth opened and closed, mind racing on how to respond to that.
The lively younger crowd suddenly shifted, eager to migrate to a happening spot as the night was still young to them, and she found herself jolted into his embrace.
Apologies from a younger girl fell on deaf ears as her focus was captured by the arms securely wrapping around her figure.
“Let me drive you home.”
It wasn’t a question. The same words he had uttered the night she left his house echoed in her mind.
City lights blurred into a colorful haze, much like the first time she sank into the plush leather seat of his car, though her thigh felt empty.
The hand that had rested on it previously was gripping the steering wheel tightly, trying to restrain itself. The silence between them was heavy, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine.
“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” he finally broke the silence when her apartment came into view.
Zayne turned off the engine and turned to face her. “But seeing that you’ve had some drinks, it’s probably better if we do this when you’re completely sober.”
“Meet me upstairs,” the words came rushing out of her mouth, surprising him and her both.
He looked into her eyes deeply. “Are you sure?”
She nodded swiftly and opened the car door, stepping out before she could second-guess her decision.
Upstairs, weary feet paced back and forth, the sound of footsteps echoing softly in the quiet apartment. Fresh breeze swept through the opened windows, bringing clarity to her mind.
Soon, there was a soft knock on the door, and her heart raced faster. She was met with the sight of him who had shed his vest and tie. That sure wasn’t helping her nerves as he somehow looked even more dashing than before.
She could feel his heat as he passed her. Suddenly, her apartment felt small with Zayne standing there, his presence filling the room.
“You have been busy,” he remarked when he saw the pile of papers stacked on her coffee table.
“I’m just trying to do more work to take my mind off…” she trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
Of you.
“Of what?” Zayne prompted. “Is everything okay?” He genuinely looked concerned, softening her towards him even more, if possible.
“Just a lot in my mind lately,” she opted to say.
He hmmed understandingly and they resorted to another silence. Feeling parched, she took a swig of the chilled water from her fridge, aware that his gaze was tracking her every move.
"I saw you hurriedly walking down the hospital corridor a couple of months back,” he said quietly, “avoiding me as if I were contagious."
And yet, she had done it again earlier in the morning. After successfully closing the deal with Akso, the businesswoman's confidence evaporated as their hands clasped in a shake.
The familiar hold of his hand ignited a surge of memories, memories where he had once gripped both of her wrists effortlessly, guiding her into moments of ecstasy.
It prompted her to hastily make an escape.
"I just...didn't know how to face you, and I didn’t want to make things more awkward between us."
His hand caught her chin, lifting her head that had hung low from embarrassment. Her breath caught, only noticing how those broad shoulders were closer than before.
“I’ve missed you.”
Doubt stealthily crept into her. “You mean the sex?”
“That’s a totally different context,” he clarified quickly, "I care about you. More than I've ever cared about anyone else. And it drives me crazy knowing that I have hurt you.
“You were right, it hadn’t been just a casual arrangement for some time," he admitted, voice tinged with fragility that she had heard sneaking in within the safe space of their pillow talks. “I’m a coward who thought that completely baring my soul to someone will only end in heartache.”
“Well, I have a soft spot for this particular person who dares to bare his soul.” Her smile was gentle, though he didn’t miss the mischief twinkling in her eyes. “Did you finally admit that it was more than physical or is my mind playing tricks on me, Doctor Zayne?”
A small chuckle escaped his lips. “Judging on your playful quip even when I’m being serious and…” His thumb brushed against her jugular, feeling the rapid rise and fall of her pulse beneath his touch. “…seeing that you’re responding even to the slightest touch, it seems that you’re fully alert right now.”
Smouldering gaze pinned her down to the spot. Their heads tilted closer, drawn by an irresistible magnetic pull.
“Though, I never refuted that I didn’t miss the physical aspect, did I?”
A surge of heat rushed through that one spot south of her body. “So, Mr. Coward, what’s your next brave move going to be?” her words came out in a breathless whisper.
With a barely audible exhale, he grabbed her by the back of the neck. Mouths moved in a passionate dance of need, their kisses growing more desperate with each passing second.
As they fought for oxygen, he withdrew, forehead touching hers. “Are you sure this is something you want? Right after we talk about things between us are more than just sex?”
“Didn’t you confirm I’m ‘fully alert’ earlier?”
She tugged on his collar, drawing him closer until their bodies were flush against each other. The fabric of her pencil skirt felt constricting as his skilled surgeon fingers toyed along the waistband.
“Do you have work tomorrow?” she managed to gasp out in between her moans, tilting her head back, exposing the delicate curve of her neck to his wandering lips further.
“No,” he replied, voice thick with a feral need.
Puffs of hot breath danced across her skin, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand proud. “Will you stay the night then?”
Full-blown dark irises locked onto hers, a sly curl exclusively reserved for her tugged at the corner of his lips
“I thought you’d never asked,” he breathed, before lightly nibbling on his favourite spot. The spot he knew would elicit the sweetest symphony from her lips.
Peppered purplish marks would for sure grace her neck for the next couple of days. And perhaps a few other places on her body too.
#ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐱𝐞𝐩𝐡'𝐬 writing nook#love and deepspace#lads#l&ds#zayne x reader#zayne#zayne x y/n#zayne x you#suggestive
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𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕋𝕒𝕡𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖
Pairing: Xavier x Fem!Reader
Prompt: "No, you can't stay here."
Words: ~1.1k
Genre: Angst, No Comfort
Notice: Some spoiler of Xavier's Myth, Shooting Stars, although not entirely aligned
He staggered back, clearly surprised by how your muttered words reverberated loudly in the otherwise dimly lit room. Cerulean orbs searched for yours skilfully, eyes bright as they were when tracking Wanderers in the darkest of nights.
"What did you say?" A hint of disbelief was palpable in Xavier's voice.
You stepped away from the shadow, hands trembling as you struggled to steady them. Despite anticipating this moment, when confronted with reality, you found yourself questioning whether you could truly accept your sacrifice without harboring any regrets.
"I said, no, you can't stay here."
Revelation dawned on him. Despite Xavier’s frequent drowsiness, he remained inherently sharp. It was one of the attributes that had made him a highly respected hunter.
"How long have you known?"
"Enough time to understand the over-complicated truth."
Irritation briefly flickered in his eyes. He looked at the thinning veil behind him, clearly cursing the other party that stepped through it earlier. "Jeremiah told you.”
“I was the one who convinced Jeremiah to tell me everything. You shouldn’t kick his ass when you see him again.”
Xavier couldn’t help but chuckle bitterly at that. Jeremiah, though physically not imposing, could defeat anyone on mind games. That’s why he brought him along on the mission as he needed a logical partner.
He couldn’t comprehend why Jeremiah had agreed to divulge the secrets they swore to keep between themselves—especially to the one person he had hoped would never uncover the truth.
“Besides, you’re not as secretive as you thought, Xav.” You gave him a small, sad smile. “I guess that's what makes us human, right? Despite not being a normal one, having an aether core-fused heart, or having lived for a hundred years, we still can’t stop ourselves from showing our deepest desires during moments of vulnerability. I used to believe that she was your unforgettable first love or perhaps an ex who taught you a crucial life lesson. However, that’s just me shying away from the undeniable.”
As much as you had steeled yourself for this moment, your vision began to blur, and Xavier was fast to engulf you in his hug. You couldn’t help but wrap your arms around his lithe but muscular figure, feeling his warmth and further breaking your heart.
He buried his face in your hair, taking a deep breath to blanket himself in your scent like he always did.
“That’s not true,” his voice came out shakier than he intended.
“But it is, Xavier. You don’t know how many times you called out to her in your sleep. Or sometimes when you look at me, I can tell that you don't truly see me for who I am in this current existence. You can’t deny this, because in doing so, you’re also hurting her…me.”
You had to force your head up to fully face your light. Xavier wouldn’t let you step away from him.
Gently cupping his cheeks, you urged him to focus on your next words. “Face it, Xav. Your queen and I… our resemblances are solely physical. We’re two entirely different persons, made up of distinct personalities. If she was the reason why you were in this timeline in the first place, you cling to the hope of going back to her one day, don’t you? You wouldn’t abandon her eternity, right?”
His hug tightened. “I’m sorry,” he said after some time, head bowed in shame. “I’m sorry, y/n. Truly, deeply sorry for making you feel less than your worth.”
Despite his painful acknowledgment, you found yourself relaxing, accepting your fate. Xavier's thumbs gently wiped away the tears that had escaped from your eyes.
“But you’re going to be here all alone,” his voice cracked, almond eyes cloudy. “I can’t go back and live peacefully knowing that.”
“If what Jeremiah told me is the truth, I have left you more than once. It’s your time to experience having someone be there when you’re back. This is the time to redeem myself, even when the timeline has gone haywire.”
Xavier shook his head furiously. “We won’t know if the alternative aether core would work. If I go back and learn that I will lose you again and Philos, I would rather stay here with you in the past.”
“You know it will work, that’s why you were so insistent on sending Jeremiah back alone with it, and selfishly waiting at the other end just to make sure it disappears, an indicator that Philos has accepted the aether-core. You know how much Jeremiah wants to go back there, and for everything he has done for you, you believed it was your turn to help him. I can’t take you away from her; it’s not right. It’s not my time to have you.”
“What difference does it make when I’m also willingly leaving you here? You understand that once I step through that veil, we’ll never meet each other again in this timeline.”
As if aware of its existence, the veil dimmed. You eyed it wearily, realizing that the swirling vortex of electric blue and silver had turned almost transparent.
"Xavier,” you sighed when he cupped your hand, reveling at the contact, “we both know that my time in this realm will end, I can’t be immortal here. I would rather face the certainty of our eternal bond in another dimension than linger in the fleeting confines of this world.”
You placed your fingers against his lips, silencing his upcoming argument. “You do realize that if you abandoned me in the future, I would despise you, don't you?" you made a playful comment to lighten the mood, but he was miserable. Filled with guilt and disappointment that he couldn’t control the situation.
You guided his head down to meet your lips halfway. As both of your lips touched in a bittersweet embrace, a silent farewell woven into each tender touch. The palm pressed against his heart felt its rapid beats.
“Goodbye, my light. Be happy,” you whispered those words to his lips.
Xavier should have known that whenever you were around, his caution melted away. That was his greatest weakness. He registered the force that caught him entirely off guard a second too late.
Xavier reached out his hand, losing momentum. “Y/N! Wait—!” he called out, voice tinged with urgency.
As his body was hurled into the closing veil, it snapped shut, swallowing his unfinished words. Sobs wracked your body, each wave of emotion sent your body crashing to the wooden floor.
Moonlight peeking through the windows cast its glow upon the intricate gold of the gigantic frame before you.
Where the veil had shimmered moments before, there was now only emptiness, revealing a cold cement wall that stood as a cruel reminder of the end of a chapter you could never revisit.
While seemingly nearly empty every night, a profound silence enveloped Philo Flower Store differently. Vibrant blooms began to wilt, their once lively hues fading into desolation, while the lush vines that once cascaded down nearby buildings now curled and browned.
#ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐱𝐞𝐩𝐡'𝐬 writing nook#love and deepspace#lads#l&ds#xavier#xavier x reader#xavier x y/n#xavier x you#angst#hurt/no comfort
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