Fanfiction Zenless Zone Zero Novels & Stories

The thought made her even hornier, but she kept her hands on her notebook and stayed still. The frustration built. Her pussy clenched around nothing, begging for something inside it. She could feel her juices leaking out, making the inside of her thighs slippery. Professor Kane walked across the front of the room, gesturing at the whiteboard. Sara stared at the bulge in his pants, remembering exactly how his cock had felt in her mouth, thick, hot, and pulsing.

The zipper gave way under his hands, and he shoved it down her hips along with her underwear. In seconds, she was standing in his office in nothing but her bra and heels, her clothes in ruins on the floor. "Much better." Damien circled her slowly, his gaze raking over every inch of exposed skin. "Do you know what happens to assistants who make mistakes, Ella?" She shook her head, not trusting her voice. "They get punished." He stopped behind her, his breath hot against her ear. "Bend over my desk." "I... what?" His hand came down on her ass, a sharp smack that made her yelp. "I did not ask you a question. I gave you an order. Bend. Over. My. Desk."

His sheep followed him. There's nothing in this world that compares to the smell of a brand new rain. The way each drop falls on the leaves and travels to the stem and journeys down to the roots. The smell is so calming. The drizzling sound from the outside was not heard by the couple making out in the mud hut. The only sound was from the light burning in the room where the bunch of twigs burning in splitters lays stagnant to the dancing reviving fire in the corner. The cracking sound from the burning wood was soothing and Zona felt warmer despite the heat their naked bodies generated. However, his wife- Zaire, and Zeneba's mother, Zagerba seemed to be in a different dimension from his in te

Only if I had known my soul would have been sold for nothing, I would have ended it. The room hadn't changed a bit all these years. Same dark walls that made the room intimidating and the absolute perfection in the way it was organized just as its owner, hiding all that evil just barely underneath the surface, simmering and waiting for the perfect time to strike its prey. I repressed a shudder and took a seat waiting for him to notice my presence in the room. He was writing in a journal on the desk, I had always wondered what he wrote in there, the number of people he killed, or the latest mission he accomplished?

his firm tone, earning his zombie-like expression. “And about her type? Love doesn’t know any type; ask yourself first, then you’ll find that everything about her is your type.” “Rylee is my love,” he says nonchalantly. “But I have never seen you become that much happier for Rylee! C’mon man, Judy really loves you and you also love her, just confront each other, and if you still argue that you don’t love her, then why did you beat your best friend for her? Why don’t you want to meet Rylee now? Can you give me an explanation for that?” Zen says, holding the piece of stone off his desk while examining it thoroughly. Ellen doesn’t know how he can say this so surely! How does Zen know everythin

I am Zeiah, I grew up thinking that everybody around me is ordinary and I am like them, but that's what I thought. I remembered everything, from the growl of that notorious creature, the slashing of the swords, and the explosion, all of it was clear. I close my eyes, quivering into the ideas which my mind could only bear. How I wish everything were just a nightmare. I let out a deep breath and found myself in the middle of nowhere.

CHAPTER 133: THE YEAR ZERO The "Lagos-grit" had taught me that the past isn't a solid thing; it’s just a story we tell ourselves until someone with a bigger eraser comes along. I watched from the disintegrating bridge of the Vane-Absolute as the world began to vanish. The white light expanding from the Forbidden Zone Trench wasn't fire—it was a literal "Undo" command. It moved with a terrifying, silent grace, swallowing the jagged ruins of the Spires, the neon-soaked streets of the Rust-District, and the oil-slicked waters of the harbor. Where the light touched, there was no rubble, no bodies, no history. Just a blank, silver void that looked like an unwritten page.

AKIRA I sat quietly in Zane’s room, my hands clasped together on my lap as I waited for him to return. The silence stretched on for what felt like forever. The room smelled faintly of him, a mix of leather, soap, and the musk of a warrior. The air was still, the only sound coming from the faint crackle of the fire in the corner. My heart beat faster each time I thought I heard footsteps, but they always faded away. By the time Zane finally returned, the night had deepened. He looked tired, his robe hanging loosely around his shoulders. I stood when he entered, brushing my palms against my dress to hide my unease.

“You’re asking for The Zone?” “Yes.” Dorian’s tone dropped, colder now. “You know what that means.” “I know exactly what it means,” Lanvin said. The Zone wasn't a child's play. It was something dangerous and deadly. It is a place in the game where players lose themselves to speed, strength, violence. No rules. No mercy. You crushed bones if you had to. You kept going until one couldn’t stand anymore. And players were advised to indulge in it except professionals. “You could die,” Dorian spat out, even though he was happy he had brought the idea. It'll be his opportunity to deal with Lanvin in the most brutal way ever..

I loomed over her, my palms flattened on either side of her head. “Mr. Hernandez…”. She called calmly but in a warning. I leaned down all the more, warning or not. Instantly, the scent of jasmine filled my nostrils. My fingers sunk into the soft cushion as I lowered my weight onto her. “Mr. Hernandez…stop it”, her breath came in short, ragged bursts, as her chest rose and fell against mine. Her hands moved to my chest but she didn't push me away. “Analyze this, Doc”, I growled in a rough voice that sounded like gravel. I unbuttoned my shirt, threw it on the floor and started grounding my pelvis against hers, and feeling the heat seeping through the thin fabric of her pencil skirt.