Sometimes you just have no idea what Zayne is thinking.
“You’re wearing my shirt.”
His tone gives nothing away. It’s merely a statement of a fact, one that makes you blink in surprise.
“I…yeah. It’s comfier than all my clothes.” It’s not the only reason, and you’re sure Zayne knows that.
You slip into bed, but when you turn to look over at him he’s no longer reading him book. Instead, he’s staring at you.
In a way that you definitely know what he’s thinking.
“Are you tired?” He murmurs as he leans down to kiss you, softly at first, but then grows a little needy.
“Nope. But I have to ask…is it the shirt?” You smile a little into the kiss, the expression only growing when the curve of his ears begins to grow red.
“It looks good on you.” He admits, shifting so he can settle between your legs. His hands run over your body, slowly inching the shirt up.
“I wear it when I miss you. Your trip was so long this time.” You can’t stop the longing in your voice, and it makes Zayne pause his actions.
“I know. I’m sorry I was away. Perhaps I should take one of your shirts with me the next time I go.” His thumb rubs the skin of your thigh, leaving his true meaning unspoken.
“I can spray one of my plushies with my perfume? Then you can cuddle it and pretend it’s me.” You smile to lighten the mood, and it clearly works given the quiet huff of laughter. Zayne leans closer, suddenly squeezing you in a hug.
"You're not gonna shove my face into the cake right?" Zayne looks up from the platter of wedding cake samples, still deciding whether he likes the vanilla buttercream more than the white chocolate ganache.
"I'm sorry?" He asks, watching you carefully set down your fork.
"Like when we cut the cake and I feed you a bite and then it's your turn to feed me a bite...you're not gonna like cover me in icing right? Cause then I'll have to pick a flavour that won't stain my dress." Your attempt to lighten the mood around the serious question fails. Zayne simply stares at you with utter confusion in his eyes.
"Why would I do that?" You shrug, feeling exposed under his gaze.
"Some guys think it's funny."
"That's ridiculous. I won't do that, I promise." He nudges your foot under the table to get your attention, feeding you a bite of the red velvet when you look up.
"I like that one." You jot down the name as you chew, adding it to Zayne's long list of flavours to keep in consideration. So far, every flavour you'd tasted had made the list.
Well, except for carrot cake.
"Besides, there’s a much better use for our wedding cake." Zayne remarks casually, feeding you a bit of the coffee cake.
"Well yeah, we can actually eat it." There's a silence after your words, one that makes you glance up to see his slightly surprised expression.
MDNI, if I find out that you're a minor interacting with my post, I'd block you 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯
keep interactions respectful, if you aren't into these things, then simply don't read it. for the rest, enjoy ᜊ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᜊ
please don't repost my work, reblogs and likes are all appreciated <3
note that: English isn't my first language, and it's not proofread
During intimacy, Zayne loves to hold your hand. No matter how intense the interaction is. Just like that, his eyes were fixed on yours, filled with affection and desire.
"Hold on for a second longer.." he whispered against your skin. He knew exactly how to get you on edge and loved every part of it. He intertwined his fingers with yours while watching the way your body responded to his touch.
You are just weak and needy for him. Your grip on his hand tightened a bit, feeling so close.. but not yet. He won't allow it yet. Zayne continued to tease you, his touch light and maddening. He knows just how to touch you, just how to drive you wild without letting you reach the climax you crave.
"You're doing so good for me. So good." He leans in, his breath ghosting over your skin. Zayne’s voice drops to a whisper, like he’s holding you safe between every breath.
"Look at me, sweetheart… that’s it. You’re so close, I can feel it," his thumb caressing your hand as he laces his hand with yours tighter. "But we’re not done yet." His other hand trails slow teasing circles just where you ache the most before pulling back the second your hips twitch toward him.
"Ah-ah… not yet." He chuckles low in his throat, warm and playful despite the heat between you. "You wanted to be pushed? Then this is what you get."
"Zayne, please.. I can't hold any longer." A soft whimper escapes you. It was torture for him as well. He bought your hand to his lips pr, ssing a gentle kiss to your knuckles before his thumb caressed your hand. "Just finish.." he placed a kiss on your cheek, feeling your body finally relaxing under his touch.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒/𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: smut.ᐟ 1.2k.ᐟ unprotected sex (caleb & sylus).ᐟ cunnilingus (zayne).ᐟ squirting.ᐟ squirt play (caleb & zayne).ᐟ nipple play (sylus).ᐟ mirror sex (sylus).ᐟ overstimulation.ᐟ profanities.ᐟ caleb is a tease.ᐟ they're freaky here.ᐟ
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: caleb x female reader.ᐟ zayne x female reader.ᐟ sylus x female reader.ᐟ
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: they make you squirt. that's it.
𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘: anonymous.ᐟ
𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: masterlist.ᐟ
𝐌𝐒. 𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐘'𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: guess who multitasked? (writing this while studying for midterms lol). ME!
the night air at skyhaven had always been cold and quiet. the familiar scent of tranquility drifted through the air, almost peaceful.
almost.
if not by the evident dew cascading down a certain someone's abode—caleb xia’s. what was happening inside was…the contrary; the atmosphere was thick, chaotic—devoid of tranquility.
caleb had you open up to him, your thighs separated, his firm hold pushing them to your stomach as he drove into you.
deep. desperate.
your ragged breaths mingled against his; symphonies of obscenity echoing across the room. he leaves no room between you. he moved with precision, hitting the spots that had you drawing crescents on his skin. “oh my g—babe—so tight–” he groaned the rest of his words, hissing at the way you grip around him like you wanted him dry.
you moaned a response. it felt good—too good.
hotter, shakier, your breath goes. you felt lightheaded, your mind too clouded by pleasure to think anymore. your vision was all blurry, unable to catch a glimpse of how caleb's lips tugged up in the slightest—mischievously.
just then, you felt the pad of his fingers worked it's magic, moving desperate circles on your clit that had you gasping and clinging onto him like he was your last string of sanity. you cried. “wait—caleb—it’s too m–”
“yes, yes. c’mon, cum for me, cum for me, babe—fuck—” he chanted, your name escaping his lips in symphonies of sighs.
as the sensation overwhelmed you, you cried out, your body convulsed. the moment you shuddered, caleb smoothly pulled back, his shaft slick and gleaming from your essence. but the relief was instantly replaced by a sharp, electric yearning. he guided the head of his shaft against your sensitivity, a slow, deliberate slide, then a tantalizing, firm tap. it shocked you, the delectable pressure made your hips jerk violently off the bed—a violent gushing stream hit his pelvis with its warmth.
“caleb!—caleb!” you screamed his name, vision blurring as the world dissolved into pure ecstasy.
he laughed, a low, reverberating sound in his chest. “fuck—that’s it, babe. let it all out f’me,” he whispered, eyeing how the spectacle beneath him fluttered onto nothingness.
then he began to push back into you, a sharp cry of overstimulation ripping from your throat. deeper and faster, caleb goes. your inner muscles enveloped him tight, aftershocks of pleasure intensifying once more.
zayne's home had always been quiet, saved by the low murmur of the refrigerator and the soft hum of the air-conditioner. the atmosphere was calm, but it all melted away the moment his focus turned to you.
his once pristine and serene space now littered with evidence of your shared sensuality. neither of you remembered how, who and when it all started, too drowned by each other's need. the desires burn relentlessly, your breaths tangled; your bodies to. now, he was kneeling before you, your legs—restrained by his firm grip—dangled on his shoulders. zayne's eyes never left yours, emerald orbs glint with pure focus despite the stubborn shield of his glasses.
“oh—z-zayne—zayne–” your hands flew down reflexively, gripping the mussed locks between you. zayne hummed, his lips wet, connected with your aching womanhood. the way he explored you with the same focused detail he applied to his profession was too much to handle. he's way too damn good.
every flick of his tongue drove you wild, a trophy of his mastery. faster, harder, his tongue goes now, leaving you a babbling, shuddering mess. “ah—wait—you’re gonna make me–”
then you felt it, the first tidal wave hit you. it was a sudden, uncontrollable surge. you finally let go. your body stiffened as you hold your breath. zayne stopped upon feeling your body tense before pulling his head back with a loud exhale. “no—zay—” you gasped when a sharp, sudden spray of warmth landed on the lenses of his glasses.
zayne didn't flinch like what you were expecting; instead, a small soft smile—the kind that only appeared when you did something he's proud of—crept onto his face. “look at you making a mess, my love.” you flushed at his words, mewling his name
before you could protest, his fingers cut you off, padding stripes against where you were gushing, tapping a rhythm of exhilarating praise. “oh—oh my g—zayne. zayne!” your eyes rolled back, your hips bucking unrelentlessly.
zayne hummed an answer for your plea as he spread your delicate folds with the lightest pressure of his two fingers, exposing your milky core entirely. he leaned back just enough to admire the effect of his handiwork, his eyes shining. "mmm. you're gonna kill me one of this days, love. my good girl—such a mess." he murmured before closing the small gap once more, enveloping you completely with the warmth of his mouth.
“oh yes—fuck—so deep, feel so full.” your words wafted through the thick air, a melodious sonata syncing with every flutter of your breath. you leaned against him, your back meeting the warmth of his rigid chest. sylus was seated on the wide leather couch, cradling your hips as you moved wildly above him.
up. down. you bounced brazenly, your right arm draped over his broad shoulder for support. “fuck—look at us,” an airy chuckle ripped up from you as you watched your vague reflections from the massive, sleek mirror infront—a backdrop for your kinky desires. it was obscenely carnal; the sight alone made your cunt pool once more.
how could you not? not when his crimson eyes demanded to lock with yours, his mouth full of your mound; latching, suckling, swirling his tongue along with your sanity. with an indecent pop, sylus released the nipple he’d been drawing on, his left hand shifting to your swollen core.
“you're so beautiful, sweetie,” he rasped in your ear, pressing a light kiss on your temple after. he didn't just touch; he commanded, stroking your clit with a firm, circular pressure that made your vision white. and as if on cue, your breath quickened, hips snapping faster along with the messy speed of his fingers. “that's it, that's it, go crazy for me, kitten. c'mon you can do it.” he gritted, his own hips snapping against yours as if your desperate movements weren't enough.
sylus. sylus.
your shaky pleas echoed. you were losing control, slipping into a delirium of pure bliss. “oh fuck—shit—i’m close—sylus ‘m gonna cum–" and just like that it snapped, a white-hot climax washed through your veins along with a sudden hiss of release. it was quick but a violent stream gushed right after, hitting the mirror before cascading down the flawless glass.
sylus’s eyes were blazing, his chest rose and fell. he watched your face, the raw satisfied expression on your features, and with one final tap on your sensitivity, he pulled out, chuckling. he spilled his own release onto your stomach, pumping his his slick girth with a hiss.
you collapsed backward, breathless, your cheek against his sweat-damp neck, his scent inviting. sylus wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you impossibly close and whispered, “do me a favor and do that more often, please, sweetie?”
“sylus!” you flushed, smacking his arm.
the said man just chuckled, pressing a hot, possessive kiss to your neck, his eyes still locked on your shared reflection in the mirror.
yours truly, ms. dainty ִֶָ 𖥔 ࣪˖ all rights reserved.
It’s something you didn’t realize until Yvonne pointed it out shortly after Zayne had rushed off for an emergency operation. “You two are very reminiscent of cats.”
“Huh?” You only turned to look at her after Zayne had disappeared from your sight. Cheeks a little warm as she smiled at you. “You two said goodbye, but when Dr. Zayne kissed your cheek, he nuzzled you with his nose… you nuzzled him right back. It was pretty cute.”
You can't even say anything in response, your mind slightly malfunctioning as you think back on all the times you and Zayne have subconsciously nuzzled into each other.
You mean to tell Zayne about it when he gets home, just to see his ears grow red and his cheeks pink as he realizes his own habit.
Except, you forget about it when he gets hime. It's not until he's on top of you, his face buried in your neck, that it dawns on you. "You're like a kitten, Z." His body weight is settled snuggly on top of you, a slight hum sounding from his mouth as he processes your words.
"So are you." It vibrates your skin, makes you giggle a little harder and your nails scratch his scalp a little harder. "Yvonne pointed it out today, y'know. I couldn't even come up with a response."
Now, Zayne is chuckling too. The warmth of his face against your neck growing a little hotter. "You've softened me, my love. Ruined me, even. Now I can't help myself when my colleagues are present." The kiss that lands on the top of his head only ruins him further.
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