Aight Time To Workout Again

aight time to workout again

Hello! LADS boys with muscular fem s/o who can carry heavy stuff especially carrying them with no struggle at all just like Mikasa from aot hehe (I saw gym tiktok girl who can carry an adult man with one arm☠️)

Lnds: Muscle Mommy

Warning: F!reader, AFAB!reader, reader is not the mc, muscular!reader,

Author's notes: I'm a sucker for muscle women. Everytime i see one on my reels and my tiktok i just go 🙈🙈🙈

Zayne:

Zayne was more than happy to see you be so conscious of your health, and quite frankly, it was one of the strong points of your relationship. Even going to the gym would be considered a date for both of you. He's seen your body plenty of times as well, and he knows how toned you are and how you can handle doing heavy stuff most of the time.

But in reality, Zayne has no idea what you're capable of. Not until he passed out from drinking too much at a hospital dinner. It was surprising for you as well since Zayne knew how to moderate his alcohol intake; the night was probably an exception. People were quite worried when a 5-foot-something girl came to pick up the surgeon because you looked like you would topple under his weight.

You wanted to prove them wrong, and so you mounted him on your back easily like you would a child. The drunken crowd cheered you on while some of the girls really asked if you would be okay. You gave them a thumbs-up and a grin before heading back to Zayne's car. They were utterly impressed with what they saw, and some of them even followed you to the parking lot in case you fell over.

Again, as if they'd never seen anything like it, they were shocked to see you tuck him into the car too easily.

When Zayne woke up, he was more than surprised to see himself in his bed. When he went to check his phone, his messages were bombarded with Yvonne and Grayson sending him pictures. He turned red at the sight—he was on your back, and you were giving the camera that thumbs up and a cheeky grin.

"Oh, wow, I wish I had a lover who can do that…You're one lucky man, Dr. Zayne," Grayson said.

When you entered the bedroom in your running attire, sports bra, and cycling shorts with high socks, his eyes stared at your stomach and your arms like how a woman would check out a gym rat. He turned redder and redder as if he was slowly being enlightened with a new realization.

You, oblivious to his thoughts, thought that he was red simply because he was hungover. Luckily, there was some medicine in the plastic bag you were holding.

Xavier:

Xavier thought you were cute, and he found it admirable how you could keep up with his daily training regimen when it was made specifically for him by the hunters' association. He didn't think much of it, and if anything, he was more than impressed and happy that you could keep up. He thought not much of it until he happened to see you downtown.

Beside you was an older lady, small and shriveled up—beside her were boxes and boxes of what seemed to be groceries. From the looks of it, she lived in an apartment that was a few stairs above, and it looked like no one was willing to help her. He was about to approach you, but he was appalled when you threw two sacks of rice on either side of your shoulders.

"Granny, I'll help you out," you said to the elder with a smile. Passersby were staring, especially that old bakery owner who happened to stay outside and witness it all as well. You climbed up the stairs like you just had pillows over your shoulders. Xavier watched you from afar, indulging himself as he saw your arms and thighs bulge while you went back and forth to pick up the groceries.

It wasn't until there were two boxes left that Xavier snapped out of his prolonged trance. He approached you both and carried the remaining boxes. You were glistening with sweat, which further accentuated your muscles.

In his eyes, you looked absolutely stunning, and it was at that realization that something in him welled. Desire? He wasn't sure, but it was…something.

It was his fault he didn't dwell too much on your ability to keep up, but now he does.

It was a…mind-blowing realization.

Maybe he'll ask you to spar with him next time.

Rafayel:

It was very, very convenient and interesting for Rafayel.

Every time you were doing mundane things with him, he would ogle at your body. Those bulging biceps and quads enchanted him for some reason, and it was like he was a depraved woman craving to be touched. You weren't oblivious to this, either. You could feel his gaze every time you did something not even worth noting, but over time, you got used to it.

It was convenient for Rafayel because he could get you to do stuff he would have a hard time doing. For example, Rafayel was a clumsy man; more often than not, his floors would have splashes of paint and chemicals. This time, he accidentally kicked a bucket of paint, and it bled and spread to the underside of a sofa. He called for you and told you to use a mop, but since he was holding it, you decided to lift one side of the couch instead—with one hand.

He stared. He was staring like he was looking at a piece of art. "Uh, Raf? The mop."

"Oh! Uh, yeah, yeah," He snapped out of it and began mopping the paint. You moved on to a big potted plant beside the couch, and Rafayel didn't protest, seeing you pick it up with ease. To say that he was impressed was quite an understatement.

There was this one time when he had a whole human-sized block of plaster of Paris outside his doorstep, and only a single man was hauling it inside. It was pure coincidence that you were there to pick something up. Instead, you dropped your bag and took off your black shirt (to avoid getting white powder on it), revealing your well-chiseled abs. The man ogled at it, and Rafayel called for his attention, feeling a very strong tinge of jealousy. Together, you and he hauled it inside his house and into his studio.

When there was nothing to do, Rafayel would use you as his model. You could be sitting and reading a book, and Rafayel would be sketching away, perfectly capturing every curve. Sometimes, you would sit on a stool for hours and flex because, according to him, "You have the form of a goddess."

Well, you weren't complaining. It felt good being admired so much because you chose a healthy lifestyle, and admittedly, it felt good seeing your boyfriend ogle over your body.

Sylus:

Sylus doesn't know what you're really capable of.

Sure, you were sporty, and even if you were inclined to do mixed martial arts rather than boxing, you made a good sparring partner. Regardless, Sylus doesn't want you to get hurt. If anything, you wanted to complain that he babies you too much.

During Sundays, Sylus's form of entertainment is going to underground boxing rings. You went along with him, but rather than placing bets on the broker, you placed bets with each other. There was no money involved but rather something more valuable, ranging from favors to expensive items.

The rounds were progressing well up until it wasn't. Whoever that woman in the ring was devouring each and every one of her opponents, but it was getting boring. And just as you and Sylus were about to leave, the referee called in volunteers as the original player backed out, but bets were already placed on the backer.

You stared at Sylus. He stared, disapproving of your intentions without you even hearing it yet. "You're underestimating me," you glared at him.

"No. That woman fights dirty, and I don't want you bloodied on my bed tonight," Sylus replied.

You didn't listen to him and called for the referee's attention. Sylus clicked his tongue but didn't stop you. The other fighter had that ignorant grin on her face, and you couldn't wait to slam her face to the floor. The people were roaring when you stepped in and did your wrist wrap. Sylus was just behind you. "You sure you can do this?"

"If I win this one, I'll borrow your motorcycle for a month. What do you say?" you snickered.

"You bet too low. Don't underestimate yourself. If you win, I'll give it to you."

"Don't go back on your word, big guy." You placed a kiss on his lips.

Needless to say, you no longer have to take the train to go to work. Sylus, on the other hand, was staring at a picture of you on his phone, the referee holding up your hand while the spotlight was focused on you. He grinned at your triumphant smile.

Sylus expected no less from you.

He knew you were going to win anyway.

Author footnotes: Honestly I have a lot of headcanons for this one because being a musclemommy!reader has the ability to change a lot of things especially with the boys lolol. on another note, I'd probably be like Rafayel when i have a muscular partner. I'd be climbing them up all day everyday.

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NOO IM SORRY-

DONT CRY 😭 HAHAHSHAH

Zayne Drabble

Zayne doesn’t say he loves you. No — wait… let me rephrase that. He can’t say that he loves you.

It hurts, both emotionally and physically for Zayne. His love for you is so great but can’t physically say it to you. 

The God, Astra forbids him to do so. In no matter what timeline, if he dares to utter such words — a curse will be laid upon him, making him feel the most excruciating pain as his ice covers his body.

But even then, Zayne will love you unconditionally and will continue to do so.

You feel cold? Here, have his coat.

You need something from the store? Wait for him, he’ll buy it for you on the way.

You like this food? He’ll remember it and cook it for you in the future.

Zayne will put his hand on your waist when walking together, to ensure that you don’t get separated from him. His grip always feel protective, gentle, and possessive.

In each appointment that you're almost always late on, makes him feel anxious and worried — thinking if you are in danger or if something has happened. Once you enter his office, he feels instant relief and immediately regain his composure. Though his words sound cold and distant, he is only hiding his true feelings.

This man, when it is time to sleep, always prioritizes your comfort before his. He’d pull you close, — hesitant at first, scared that his evol will act up — tucking your head towards his chest as he breathes in the scent of your shampoo. Feeling the warmth of your body assures him that you are well and alive and right beside him.

Zayne can’t say that he loved you, however, through his actions — you know how deeply in love he is with you. In this timeline… he’ll protect you and not lose you. 

Not again.

Reblogs would be appreciated!

that’s so sweet im gonna cry :((

BUT OMG AAMON IS SOO AUGHHH 🤭

not a req! but thoughts on how soft aamon and dyrroth treat their support lover?

also can I be -🩷anon? I love your works🩷! The mlbb blogs here are so little!

AAMON + DYRROTH X READER (separate)

FLUFF, GN!READER.

a/n: Welcome, 🩷 anon! I resorted to a gender neutral reader since you didn't mention it, I also got carried away by BWHAHAH QUICK DRABBLE!! tnx for the ask!

AAMON

yes, I think man is in love with you, yes, really.

Aamon absolutely cherishes you. The team has to need a pair of glasses with a high grade to be able to see it, because boy, this man is nonchalant.

Either way, with his calm demeanour, he won't hesitate to shower you with praises after your hard work which never fails you to turn into a blushing mess.

Which causes you to be distracted sometimes.

Like that one time you got caught too deep in the fight. That time he panicked, abandoned what he was doing, rushed quickly to your aid, and then whisked you away while hidden under his cloak.

Then the two of you stop to rest at the corner. Once he feels the two of you are safe, he'd hug you tightly after that, muttering how he could've lost you:( You had to convince him hard through it that time.

Out the battlefield, he'd lazily tend to his duties while you were by his side, helping him. He'd tell you to stop helping him because you need rest too. But you insisted, and in no way can he deny you. He just sighs, kisses your forehead, and says thank you. aghh

Aamon can be soft, but only you (and his brother😭) can bring it out of him.

DYRROTH

No matter how soft you say it, Dyrroth remains either possessive or constantly worried.

It's just that Dyrroth loves having you as his support and staying by his side, but he'd be so worried you'd be hurt… and by him.

Yk, man could go crazy with his damage in the early game.

However, he can't deny how much he still loves it when you get near him to help him out. When that time you both hide in the bush and then sit on the ground, his arms will then wrap around your waist while you rake your fingers through his hair and heal him.

Sometimes, when he's so stressed over his duties, he craves your touch. But he's afraid he'd hurt you so he just leaves it be and you can't help but notice it right away. You walked up to his desk with a glass of water and caressed his face. He hesitantly leaned towards your warm touch, then proceeded to exhale a tired sigh as he kisses your hand.

Dyrroth loves you for being there for him and staying. It warms his heart. He loves you. He loves you. Oh, look, now his mind is all about you again.

back to all my work . . .

NOO STOPPP :((( MY POOR BABIES 😭😭

ZAYNE TAKE ME BACK PLS

Zayne & Rafayel: Married to...

Warning: Angst no comfort. Major character death. implied suicide. Drama. Self insert. AFAB!reader.

Author's note: I was supposed to upload another thing but my tumblr is having problems so i hope y'all could settle for this in the meantime...

Zayne:

It was a bittersweet sensation. Seeing you at the front of the stage, wearing the gown you always dreamed of wearing. It was the most beautiful gown he had ever seen, yet the soft, warm glow of the chandelier made you prettier than the dress.

He was reluctant to attend your wedding; after all, he, too, proposed to you back when you were together. He got on his knee as well and offered you the ring you kept eyeing when you went on that particular date. He placed it on your finger, and from that point on, he thought that you were his future.

His foolish thinking blinded him to other possibilities. He didn't know where it went wrong, but all he knew was that he lost you and that your kindness to end it on nice terms with him was a double-edged sword.

Perhaps a part of him wished you never got along once you canceled the engagement. Maybe it would've been easier for him to move on. Maybe...

He could've used your anger as an excuse to not see you ever again.

But the heavens wished otherwise.

Much to his dismay, he never truly had an excuse to turn down your wedding invitation. You wished the best for each other and bid farewell on that chilly morning; he dropped you off at your house, wanting to embrace you and wipe away your tears that never stopped streaming.

Zayne, despite being the collected and intuitive man that he is, waited for you to at least call him back. You never did. Only the universe knows how many times he wanted to call you and how many times he wrote you a message only to delete it. But after a few months, he never once thought that the first time you ever contacted him again was to send him a wedding invitation.

The world was too cruel.

He gifted you both some old champagne, one that was recommended to him by Yvonne; it was the very same champagne he would open for you had you managed to celebrate your first wedding anniversary with him.

The rest of the reception was bleak. He couldn't recall things quite clearly despite not touching a single glass of alcohol. Those few hours, he was left in a daze, teetering between joy and grief, with him congratulating you face to face being his respite. He was happy that you were happy in the embrace of your new husband, and although another chapter awaits your life, his had come to a standstill.

The passage of time felt faster than it did, yet when you, your husband, and your daughter visited him for your child's check-up, only then was he reminded of where he was. It had been years since you ended your relationship with Zayne, but he clung to the memory of you every day.

Nothing changed for him. You were happily married with a child, and he was still working in the hospital as the chief surgeon, the only difference being he's now focusing more on research. It was unfortunate that his feelings didn't change, too.

Maybe in the next life, he'll get to stand next to you in front of the altar.

Rafayel:

Before him stood a painting.

A painting of you on the beach holding hands with your current husband. Under the moonlight, the painting seemed dull, devoid of the color that he ever so loved putting. It was an ugly painting, barely able to capture the smile you made on that day. Your husband's face was blurred in the painting, seemingly almost finished. The brush strokes were gentle, blending into one another, yet as the layers of paint built up, the strokes were sharper, rigid, almost seemingly cold, and coated with anger.

And it was precisely because of that that he scrapped it. And as he did, he pulled another canvas. It was a gift for you, a remembrance of a new beginning in your life and the end for Rafayel. He wished that even if you never got together in the end, there would still be remnants of him in your home.

He gave you a different painting. It was still at the beach, yet rather than blue, the sky was colored orange and red, and your bodies and faces turned into silhouettes, yet embracing one another. He couldn't capture your husband's face. You were beautiful in his painting, immaculate even, yet he can't ever recall the expression your husband made simply because he was imagining himself in that position.

With enough alcohol, Rafayel mustered the courage and energy to make the best piece he could; he wanted to see you light up once he gave you the painting. He wanted your smile to be the last memory rather than your tears when you broke up.

"Congratulations," he remembered saying to you.

"Thank you, Raf."

Your voice played in his head over and over again like a broken record. The alcohol swirled everything in sight, and seemingly, the only thing he could make sense of was the harsh crashing of the waves outside his home.

The night was the darkest at that hour. He reeked of alcohol.

Rafayel dropped the empty whiskey bottle onto his floor, hearing it shatter loudly. He picked up the biggest shard and dug it onto the canvas before him. Once, twice, thrice; he slashed the image of your husband, yet your figure was never harmed. He wasn't angry, no. He was grieving.

He flung the canvas away, disregarding whatever it crashed into, and the moment he did, another canvas stood against the wall.

He stared at it for a minute and then looked at the sea once more.

He felt happy, like a sense of pressure lifted off of his heart. With slow steps and feet against the cold parquet floor, he walked to the outside of his home, through the neglected garden, and to the sandy shoreline.

Every splash and whisper of the waves soothed his mind. The blank sky became a canvas for his thoughts. I love you's, I'm sorry's, and thank you's mingling with one another, incoherent. The image of your smile warmed up his body against the growing tide that crept to his waist. A phantom of an embrace, numbing the sharp, cold breeze against his damp back.

He waited for you for more than 800 years.

He's grown tired. He still wanted to wait, but he deserves some rest.

Emptiness washed over Rafayel as he continued to walk farther from the sandy terrain.

Nobody heard his woes, not a single soul; the only thing he left behind was that big canvas that captured his unfulfilled wishes.

The image of you kissing him under the moonlight.

His smile and yours are as vivid as they can be.

He'll wait for you again in the next life, but until then—

he'll rest with the sea.

Author footnotes: No footnotes but poor Rafayel.

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can i pleaseeee have a zayne 🥺😭

Zayne: Morning Afterglow

Warning: Smut, MDNI, 18+, 2k words, no plot (just a lazy morning), gentle (?) sex, Cunnilingus, unprotected sex, sensual love making. AFAB!reader, Reader may or may not be the mc.

Author's note: how do you write gentle sex exactly???? request made by anon!

A big hand roamed the expanse of your back, tasting its warmth.

For a second, the touch disappeared, changing to a single finger. Carefully, it traced every dip and crevice formed by your position as you lay on your side—your spine, the dip in your shoulder blades, the folds of your love handles, and your Venus dimples.

You held your breath at the thought of Zayne doing it. He's been doing this the whole week. Whenever you were distracted by something, his hand would always come into contact with your body, touching it for his own amusement. It wasn't even intimate or erotic; it was just plain eccentric and out of character.

"Are you that interested in my body? How scandalous of you, Dr. Zayne!" You exclaimed, over-exaggerating your tone.

To your words, he merely responded with a blink and a stare before turning away from you. You were perplexed. Who wouldn't be?! Is this his way of getting accustomed to touching you?

"I know you're awake," Zayne whispered, his lips just behind your ears. You shiver at the lowness of his voice and stiffen as his hand lands on your hips. "Why are you holding your breath?"

"I was woken up to you touching me," you replied back. It's not that you were complaining about it, but it felt… nice. Even if there was no malice to his touch, it sent a small jolt of electrical shock from your back to everywhere. "But good morning."

Zayne's lips touched the nape of your neck, placing a light kiss. His hand, which was on your hip, traced carefully from your waist up to your shoulder. You can't help but crave a kiss, so you slightly turn behind you and meet his face. "Are you still sore from last night?" he gently asked, giving another peck on the forehead.

You shook your head from side to side.

"Good," he whispered, accompanied by a kiss on the nose. Zayne tugged off the plain white duvet that was the only thing covering your naked body. That took you off guard. "May I?" he asked, and you finally rolled to his side of the bed, revealing yourself in all your naked glory. Hickey-riddled neck and collarbones, your stomach, your pinkish thighs, and your supple breasts. He basked in the sight of you riddled with his love marks.

"What's gotten you so eager this morning?" you asked, but he did not respond. He simply pulled you closer and finally laid a kiss on your lips. You had to blink thrice before giving in to his all-too-gentle kiss—a stark contrast to the harsh, hungry kisses he was gnawing out of you last night.

You opened your lips and let his tongue enter, pushing and sliding against yours while shallow whimpers escaped your mouth. You could still taste the sweetness of the chocolate from last night. His hand didn't lay dormant; it stroked and touched everything it came across before landing on your nipples.

"Mhm?" you let out when his cold fingertips brushed the peak of your breasts. You arched your chest out even further in the hopes of coming into contact with his fingers again. Your breasts were more sensitive that morning, probably due to Zayne's rough suckling and kneading. The light hue had turned more reddish, and it seemed like they were almost swollen, yet they didn't hurt at all.

You and your lover pulled away from the kiss, a silver thread connecting both of your tongues. Zayne adored the redness of your ears and your low-lidded eyes; you were in a trance as well, certainly in the mood for much more.

He got on his elbows and lowered his face onto your left breast, blowing on it. You flinched at the cold air, making you grab a fistful of his black locks. You glared at him, and he grinned. He opened his mouth and gently lapped at your breast. The other hand found its way to the right and flicked on the nipple at the same time his tongue struck up.

"Ah…" Your back lifted slightly, but the rest of Zayne's body was pressing you down. Despite it not hurting, he was still gentle with his actions. He sucked lightly, swirling his tongue and teasing the bud. You enjoyed the efforts of his mouth and fingers, letting out a sequence of weak moans.

Every movement was like a small electric spark from your chest down to your womanhood.

You can't help but let out ragged breaths as your heart beat strongly against your chest. You attempted to calm yourself down by staring at the ceiling, yet Zayne playfully bit your nipple and pinched the other. You thrust your hips against his stomach and let out a loud, unguarded moan.

You could feel something hardening and rubbing against your own thigh, but you couldn't really care less because your lover showered your torso with so many kisses. He left trails and trails of them all over, worshipping your body like a devoted believer. He went lower and lower, and his mouth stopped right at your entrance.

Zayne paused, eyeing every mark he left. He then eyed your womanhood, gazing at it with slight hunger.

The warmth of Zayne's body had disappeared from your own, and the cold wind of the air conditioner took its place. There came the slight embarrassment on your face—he was staring for too long, even if there was nothing to look at down there.

You instinctively closed your thighs shut, but it was soon a futile attempt as Zayne's hands held them open. "Don't close your legs, Honey." Zayne could see the blush on your cheeks, and you couldn't do anything other than lay your head back and wait. For dear life, you grabbed one of Zayne's pillows and pressed it over your eyes and the bridge of your nose. Partially, it was because you were shy, but deep down, you did it because you wanted to feel the sensation even more.

You waited. The minute seemed like an hour, but then finally, finally, you could feel your lover's mouth. You swallowed your saliva and spread your legs a little wider. Zayne kissed the inners of your thighs and gave you a generous, fluid-coated lick, lathering your pussy. You throbbed as his hot tongue brushed on the lips of your womanhood.

"Mhhm," you let out. His finger briefly disappeared from your thighs, but then you suddenly felt yourself being opened. You pressed the pillow harder on your eyes to cope with the embarrassment you felt at being wide open. It wasn't your first time with Zayne, and it's not uncommon for him to do this, but every time, you can't help but feel the shame.

Your hips squirmed at the cold air, but at the same time, you throbbed, feeling a slimy fluid drip out of your hole. "Zayne…" you called in the hopes that he could hurry it up. The surgeon's green eyes flickered up to you, but he clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction. Why were you covering your face with the pillow?

Swiftly, he yanked it away from you and discarded it to the floor. And while you were in the midst of complaining, his tongue nudged your clit. Slowly, you could feel Zayne's tongue move side to side, firmly and quickly, wasting no time to prepare you. "Ah! Ah! Zayne!" you screamed, hips bucking higher to add more pressure to his face. He wrapped his hands around your thigh while your hand was still in his hair.

He continued eating you out, holding you in the same position all the while he got drunk off of the lewd noises that came from your mouth. You were ebbing at the sensation. Your sex organ was clenching and relaxing at the pleasurable sensations coming from your clit. "Ah—Zayne, I'm—" You couldn't continue your words.

The moment you locked eyes with Zayne, a gentle heat radiated from your core.

The muscles in your legs tightened, and your back arched. A familiar, wonderful tingle erupted out of your vagina. You felt yourself burst, the uninterrupted pleasure prolonged by Zayne's continuous lapping. He held on to you and focused on your reactions, adoring how you whimpered out of pleasure.

You basked momentarily in the bliss that your body had experienced, ignoring your lover, who quietly disappeared from between your legs. You closed your eyes for a moment.

You didn't know what it was you experienced, but it was certainly new—an orgasm that wasn't hard, yet it was a satisfactory one. You stared at the ceiling, a portion of your energy depleted from the early morning activities. Your lids grew heavy, and the cool breeze was nice against the skin, but before you could even doze off, a hand wrapped itself around your calves.

"Eh?" one of your legs had been hung above Zayne's shoulder, and when you glanced to look, there he was again in between your legs. Zayne's cock stood upright, rock solid, like it was ready to burst.

"Can…I put it in?" he asked, rubbing his cheek on your ankle. His ears were deep red, and his eyes were almost pleading. Who could say no to him? You nodded, and Zayne aligned himself with your entrance.

The high and sensitivity from your orgasm were still there, but you were still eager to move on. You marveled at Zayne's well-toned torso, seeing it move as he thrust his hip forward, careful not to hurt you. The stretch didn't hurt; if anything, it felt good. He pushed himself in further, stopping every now and then because your insides were throbbing.

Your insides squeezed his cock in an irregular rhythm, and it felt good. It was hot inside you, and he was craving more, but it felt like It was the right moment to bask in this sensation. Zayne began to lightly move his hips, giving you shallow thrusts. He held onto your thigh, fingers digging into the flesh a bit while his other hand was guiding his hip.

Heavy breaths escaped from his lips. He was trying his best to hold back, but he couldn't help but let out a few mewls. It felt good inside you. Maddeningly good, yet uncannily, there was no urge to go rougher. He wanted to take his sweet time.

His shallow thrusts went deeper and deeper until you were practically being rocked against him. Your skin rubbed against the sheets while your insides felt like they were being repeatedly stretched, filled one moment and empty the next. Your vision was turning white, flickering with every movement.

Zayne's pace was becoming faster and faster, and it was evident that he was moving to please himself even more. His girth was perfect, managing to add just the right amount of pressure to your favorite spot while his tip kept kissing and touching your cervix. He relished how you were sucking him in, not wanting to let go.

He kept his pace for a little while longer, but then he changed his position, lifting the other leg and pushing himself right over you. He dipped his hips into your opening. "Deep…" you panted. "Zayne—you're so deep…" He kept on doing it until you could practically hear both of your skins making slapping noises.

The series of noises grew louder and louder until Zayne wasn't holding back his relished moans, the guttural noises turning you on even more. He lowered his head to your ear and nibbled lightly while he pushed open your fingers, intertwining them together. "Cumming…mhm!" He kept on thrusting and thrusting, getting sloppier until Zayne buried himself, his everything, into yours.

You let out a choked cry, and Zayne let out a quivering moan in return, his abs and body stiffening as you felt spurts of white hit against your inner flesh. It was hot—and filling you up.

He thrust a little bit more, eager to prolong his ejaculation, but soon after, his body wilted onto yours.

"Honey," you cried, tapping his sweat-riddled back. Your lover was still breathing heavily, a little fuzzy over his climax. "You're heavy…" you whispered in his ear. While he kept himself inside you, as more seconds passed, you felt him go a little softer, with his breathing balanced out. When you turned your head, merely centimeters apart from his—he was fast asleep.

"A lazy day it is," You thought, falling asleep while being crushed underneath your lover's weight.

It was a peaceful morning in your residence.

Author footnotes: I added Caleb because I want to slowly integrate him to my works.

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WIP: Sylus smut <3

I'm currently writing a Sylus smut, cuz i can't get this man out of my head. so... Not sure when i'll be finished with it but EHE~