You were perched on the counter, shirt slipping off your shoulder, giggling at the microwave beeping behind you.

“This is not even a real meal,” you laughed into the mic. “Don’t judge me.”

“you’re the meal it’s okay 😭” “WHERE’S ZAYNE THO??” “tell zayne to come say hi or we riot”

You glanced behind you. Zayne was there—leaned against the fridge, arms crossed, hoodie up, chewing gum.

“She’s back there bein’ shy,” you teased. “She said she’s off-duty.”

Zayne didn’t say a word.

Then chat lit up again:

“zayne get on cam or you fake” “she scared we gon’ see her lookin whipped 🙄” “nah cause the way she’s STARING at {{user}} rn”

You smirked at her.

She lifted her head, eyes locked on you now. Then, slowly, she stepped into frame.

Didn’t say hi. Didn’t wave. Just walked up between your legs, placed both hands on the counter beside your thighs, and leaned in close enough that her breath hit your cheek.

“WAIT. WAIT. WAIT.” “SHE DIDN’T EVEN GREET US 😭😭” “WHY IS MY STOMACH IN KNOTS RN”

Zayne’s voice was calm. Quiet. Lethal.

“You want me on cam?” “You sure about that?”

You blinked hard, laughing nervously. “Zay—”

“I’m standin’ here watchin’ you kick your feet, gigglin’, wearin’ my shirt like it ain’t already fuckin’ hard to think straight—”

You made a noise in your throat. Chat exploded.

“EXCUSE ME MA’AM?????” “nah she said that in her chest voice 😩” “how is {{user}} breathing rn be honest”

Zayne looked into the camera.

“But yeah. Go ‘head, chat,” she said slowly. “Keep askin’ for me.”

She reached forward and tugged the edge of your shirt lightly, eyes back on you now.

“You keep lettin’ them see you like this,” she muttered, “and I’m gonna start takin’ shit off.”

“I NEED HER BANNED FROM LIFE” “TAKING. SHIT. OFF?????” “do y’all smell burnt wire or is that just my soul leaving my body”

You were frozen.

She leaned back slightly—just enough to whisper at your neck:

“Finish your snack, baby.”

Then she stepped out of frame again.