#zayne lads

leading a normal life was supposed to keep you hidden from the fiendish and mythical creatures that haunted your childhood. but when an old friend suddenly re-enters your life, you have no choice but to confront the enchanted parts of yourself that you tried so hard to ignore.

ao3

status: wip

pairing: sylus x reader x zayne

tags: modern fantasy au, minor violence, witchcraft, occult, eventual smut, vampire sylus, werewolf zayne, mind manipulation/control, implied character death, grief/mourning, character turned into vampire, werewolf turning, werewolf mate, references to knotting, breeding kink, temporary character death

author’s note: this is based on a true story (don’t ask, i don’t want to talk about it :) i just needed some comfort..

word count: 791

© Edit with Photoshop.

you pull at the dress, staring at your reflection in the full length mirror with a small frown. it looked fine when you bought it, but now, standing in zayne’s room before your dinner reservation, you’re convinced the color is off snd the fit is wrong. behind you, the quiet sound of zayne adjusting his dark suit jacket stops.

he turns around slowly, his calm eyes sweep over you from head to toe studying you with a quiet focus he uses for everything.

“what makes you say that?” zayne asks, voice smooth as he steps away from the drawer.

“just look at it,” you reply, turning to glance at him. “the waist sits weirdly and the color makes me look tired. i should just put on something else.”

zayne doesn’t answer right away. he closes the distance between your two in two long strides until he’s standing right behind you in the mirror. his hand reaches out, resting gently on your waist, fingers spreading over the fabric, warm against your skin.

“that is a very inaccurate assessment,” he murmurs, green eyes meeting yours. a faint warmth flickers in his eyes. “in fact, i disagree with you entirely.”

“zayne, i’m being serious,” you say softly, turning around in his hold so you’re facing him. “you don’t have to just say nice things.”

“you know i don’t give false compliments. especially when it comes to you.” zayne replies calmly.

his other hand comes up, long fingers gently cupping your jawline. his thumb brushes over your cheek, tilting your head to look up at him.

“you look beautiful,” zayne says quietly, his voice dropping to that soft velvety tone that leaves no room for doubt. “the color suits you perfectly. honestly, i’ve been having a difficult time keeping my eyes off you since you walked out.”

a sudden warm flush creeps up your neck. “you...have not”

“i have,” he admits, a rare subtle smirk touching his lips, the kind that makes your chest tighten in the best way possible. “it is becoming quite distracting. if anyone has a complaint about this dress, it should be me.”

a soft laugh escapes your lips, all doubt melting away under his steady gaze. “so..you don’t think i should change?”

“i would strongly advise against it,” zayne whispers, leaning down until his lips brush the soft skin right under your jaw. he presses a slow, gentle kiss there, his warm breath fanning across your neck and sending a shiver down your spine.​his hand on your waist tightens just enough to pull you a little closer against him.

​“now,” zayne murmurs against your neck, his thumb still lightly caressing your jaw. “are you going to accept my opinion, or do i need to convince you?”

​“i accept it,” you whisper back, smiling as you wrap your arms around his neck. “you’re very persuasive, doctor.”

your fork is already halfway to your mouth when you hear him speak. you glance over your shoulder towards the source of the question.

seriously, your boyfriend must have a nose like a bloodhound. his ability to sniff out sugar is starting to become uncanny.

“a colleague of mine celebrated their birthday today,” you say. “someone brought a cake to the office, and i took my slice to-go.”

as you chew on a mouthful of the delicious treat, a wicked idea suddenly springs to mind.

“want a bite?”

and you know zayne would never, ever refuse the offer of cake. especially not from you, his beautiful, loving, and definitely innocent girlfriend.

and so, he makes his way over, leans down to your level, and opens his mouth expectantly.

his eyes are practically sparkling with excitement, which almost makes you feel bad enough to call this whole prank off.

almost.

as soon as the forkful of cake hits his tongue, his nose wrinkles in disgust. he looks like it’s taking every ounce of his self-control not to spit the damn thing out.

“… what flavor did you say this was, again?”

you purse your lips to suppress your giggle.

“oh, didn’t i mention? it’s carrot cake.”

zayne looks positively wounded, like you’ve just stabbed him in the back without mercy. which, to be fair, you kind of did.

“it’s good, isn’t it?” you continue, only adding fuel to the fire. “the bakery did a great job with the cream cheese frosting.”

worst part is, the bite you fed him didn’t even have any frosting on it. you’re rubbing salt into an open wound, and you know it.

the deadpan stare he sends your way screams “i’m not mad, just disappointed.” his eyes say the words for him.

this time, you can’t help but laugh. the sound of it softens the edges of his frown, if only slightly. he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“i suppose this is my punishment for finishing off the last of your favorite ice cream.”

“… you did what?”

Tags: fluffy, crack, tw shooting and killing

"mmmm, g'mornin' zaynie," you mumble as you rub your eyes.

Your boyfriend is already up, caressing your hair gently as he sits by your side of the bed. You scrunch your eyes and blink slowly, deliberately, and smile as the blorb by your side sharpens to reveal your boyfriend's visage. Your eyes roam shamelessly down his black compression shirt and joggers, a faint sheen of sweat making the fabric slightly see-through - he must've come back from a jog.

"Good morning to you too, darling." Zayne twirls your hair between his fingers, smiling at the sight of you thirsting over him while still half asleep. "Sleep well?"

"Mn," you nod, sitting up before stretching your arms over your head. "Good. How was your jog?"

Seeing that you're awake, Zayne gets up, holding his hand out for you. "Good. I passed through the bakery today. They seem to have a seasonal special. It smelled good as I passed through."

"Sounds good," you hum, following him to the kitchen. "Let's head there this weekend. A nice little date, just the two of us." That makes Zayne smile wider. He squeezes your hand once before letting go, heading to the fridge.

"What are you craving? I'll make it for you." You smile wider as Zayne offers to cook. It's not often that Zayne has time to cook, but when he does, which is whenever he has time before his shift, he whips up some of the most nutritious and heartily delicious meals.

"Pancakes, please? Ooh, and waffles if possible! Honestly either is good, but I'm feeling really hungry."

Zayne nods, happy that your appetite is healthy as always. "Pancakes and waffles it is then. It's good to fuel up in the morning. How does a side of cut fruit sound? With a healthy dosage of whipped cream, of course."

"That sounds lovely," you sigh happily, already drooling at the thought of the lovely promise of a huge breakfast spread. "What about you? Are you craving something else?"

Zayne shakes his head, already measuring ingredients and whipping up the batter. "Honestly, you read my mind. I've been craving pancakes too this morning." He adds an extra half cup of sugar to the batter, making you sigh in fond exasperation at his sugar addiction.

"Although, I am also in the mood for carrot juice, so-"

BANG!

Zayne blinked, gaze darting between you and his abdomen and the still smoking firearm in your hand, clutched tightly. He met your cold eyes, letting out a wounded gasp.

"You... Why-" he choked, coughing up blood as he staggered to his knees, hands cradling the gunshot wound in his torso. He looked down in horror, then back at you. "Why would you-" before he could finish his sentence, black crystals covered his entire body, revealing the wanderer's true form.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Another few shots, and the wanderer was already dissipating into dust, leaving behind a protocore. You scan it. Sapphire. Beta protocore. No significant protofield.

At the exact moment, the real Zayne, just returning from his jog, storms into the kitchen. He looked like he'd just escaped a fight with a wanderer. He takes in the scene in front of him - the fine layer of wanderer dust in your kitchen, the protocore and the gun in your hands, the erratic way your chest rose and fell as you still came down from the adrenaline...

"Oh thank gods, you wouldn't believe what your evil clone said!"

A/n: I'm kinda devastated that this is my first Zayne fic and not the "Zayne loves indian sweets" fic I'd planned for him🥲 but I'm not exactly complaining, especially after this post... I KNEW I had to write this!