jitt4z

[jitt4z]

inspired by this fic

helping hand

zayne x mc!reader

a/n: hey soooo this is my first time doing this and i didn’t proofread but enjoy? i hope!!! (i didn’t know how to end it so i rushed whoops)

blurb(?): your vibrator died and you went to charge it in your bathroom bc yk the chargers are short n shit, zayne comes over and he sees it :^))

warnings: mentions of food, mentions of toys, shower sex(?), zayne helps you masturbate, mc is a perv kinda sorta(?), zayne is too, he’s DOWN BAD(???), idk how to make these???, first time writing smut so maybe bad???

Zayne stared at himself in your bathroom mirror, turning his head to see the twinge of pink on his ears. He looks down at the sink, the running water barely drowning out faint breaths he took as he tried to compose himself.

Every time you would invite him over to cook, he would disappear to the bathroom for however long. This afternoon, you had been in the kitchen together and quite frankly, the entire time, he couldn’t stand being in there with you. When you noticed the pattern of his bathroom trips, you would assume it was because of the size of your kitchen— it being much smaller than the one in his home. You’d make jokes about it and he would reply calmly and downplay it, saying it’s no big deal, that if it fulfills the purpose of a kitchen then it’s good enough. You even tried apologizing for it once but he waved it off, denying it.

He did realize the kitchen was smaller but he felt indifferent. It wasn’t until he started cooking with you that he thought you should be thanking the kitchen like he did everytime he set foot in your apartment. He’d be grateful for how your bodies would graze as you had to squeeze past him to get from the fridge to the spice cabinet or how would catch a slight sight of your navel when you leant against the counter, standing on your tippy-toes to reach the cabinets or how you would have to bend down to the cabinets on the floor, your figure distracting him from the boiling water that was now overflowing on the stove.

He feels himself struggling to keep it together, leaning against the bathroom counter staring at himself in the mirror. He reached for the soap, trying to sell the illusion of him using the bathroom.

Then he sees it.

A pulsing purple light from an equally purple vibrator. His mind began to flurry with thoughts.

How did you use it? Where did you use it? When did you use it? You had to have used to earlier today, right? God, what did your moans sound like? If you charged it that means you needed more. Couldn’t he help you with that? If he could just get his hands on you—

Zayne splashed cold water on his face trying to ground himself. He knew he’s been gone for too long. Taking one of the paper towels in the bathroom, he wiped his face off and took careful steps back into the kitchen.

• • •

“Is your health okay?” he asks. You furrow your brow. You had a check up maybe a week ago and had clean bill of health. Zayne was your primary care provider so he would’ve known that. So, why was he asking again?

“Yeah, atleast it should be per my check up a few days ago, which you did.” You say, raising an eyebrow at the latter end of the sentence.

“I’m aware,” he replied, not even turning to look at you. The response was curt, but mixed with something else.

You squinted at him, despite his back facing you as he was busying himself with the dishes. you walk over to the sink, peeking over his shoulder. He had been spending far too long scrubbing one plate, as if his mind was elsewhere.

And it was elsewhere. You want to know where it was?

It was laid right next to you in your bed as you touched yourself. Or maybe in the shower, the water droplets rolling down your chest, the warm water hitting your nipples only adding to your mounting pleasure from the vibrations near your core. The sounds you would make then would be beautiful— airy, whiny, and desperate as you leaned against the shower wall, bracing yourself as you got closer. He pictured your parted mouth paired with your eyes screwed shut as you found the right spot. Your legs would twitch a bit, he bets.

No— he knows.

You couldn’t take it. Your free hand would wander around your body, starting with your breasts. How much better would it be if instead of the free hand touching yourself, it was tugging at his now damp hair as he knelt down in the shower, kissing and sucking your inner thigh, nudging the vibrator over so his tongue could run over that sensitive spot on your clit that made you squirm—

“Zayne, are you ready to eat?” He heard a familiar voice say.

Oh, right. Dinner. Of course.

Apparently, the table had been set already. Apparently, dinner was done, too. He watched you place the two plates of the freshly made food on the table. You sat down, waiting for him to get to join you. Once he did, the room was silent. No talking, just the occasional scrape of a fork against a plate. Something was wrong.

“So,” You start lowly. “How was work?”

He is still poking at his food, not even sparing you a glance. He takes a deep breath before his eyes jump to you.

“That’s how you’re going to start the conversation?” He asks, his way of rejecting the question, which you knew he would do. You knew you two were past the point of small talk— you just hated how quiet it was. But, he finally gave you something to bounce off of that wasn’t his oddly placed question about when your last checkup was.

“What’s wrong with asking you about your day?” You ask, your grip on your fork becoming slightly tighter. He wasn’t the most social person but with you he made conversation. He liked talking to you. So, this was odd— very odd. That paired with him randomly asking about your health, he was hiding something.

Zayne averts his gaze from you and blinks a few times before looking at you again.

“I would think that we could do better than water cooler talk.” He utters.

“I mean we can, it’s just— I don’t know. It’s weird.”

“Weird?” He repeats.

You nod.

“Not, like bad. I…maybe it’s just the food. It could be making me feel sick. I need to have another checkup—“

“Ah, so that’s what this is about.” You swear you can see the corner of his mouth upturn for just a moment.

“Yeah, maybe the food—“

“That’s not what I meant. You know that’s not what I meant, too.”

You gulp. No more glances are being taken. You two are now staring at each other head on from across the table. He found you out.

“Well, what do you want me to do, Zayne? You randomly talk about my health and you haven’t said anything this evening, either. Is something wrong…with me?”

You suddenly lean forward.

“You’re my doctor. You have to know everything, right?”

Zayne looks down and you swear you can hear him chuckle before he looks back up at you. To you he seemed annoyingly cool and collected, but underneath the surface he was slowly being set ablaze by your flustered demeanor.

“I can assure you your health is fine.”

You let out a breath.

“But, even as your doctor, it seems I don’t know everything.”

You blinked at him.

“Think of this as a follow up for our appointment then.” He pushes his plate away and folds his hands, still staring daggers at you.

“Zayne, what—“

“I saw your toy. Your…vibrator.” His gaze falters a bit at the end of his sentence. You scoff, shaking your head in bewilderment.

“What? Zayne, you went through my stuff?”

“I have no need to go through your things,” He says, leaning forward. You prepared to get defensive on your behalf, opening your mouth but he beats you to the point.

“It was in your bathroom.”

You now feel a pit in your stomach starting to develop. Earlier in the day, you had everything done; your laundry was washed, your reports from work were submitted, and the apartment was clean, so of course reached into your bedside drawer to pass time on the rare uneventful day.

Featherlight touches from your available hand graced your body, earning tiny gasps from you. Your hand persisted on your vibrator and you probably went through all seven of the settings that had been advertised on the box. It was either too little or too much or too slow. Your angles never could quite reach that spot or scratch that itch, that you had.

You thought of something, anything to try to get you there. You pictured a firm grip on your waist that cradled your body, the low pants from the other person as they moved against you. Their movements were slow and deliberate, calculated as they eased you into it. Kisses peppered along your neck slowly going up to your jawline, then your cheek, and then landing on your lips. They pulled back and you saw those eyes, the ones that were a mix of sage and hazel. The ones that watched you earlier that week when you were in that icy doctor’s office with a certain attentiveness. Finally, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of your peak. Your breathing hastened and your eyes screwed shut. You felt a moan bubbling up in your throat, a certain name on the tip of your tongue…

“Zayne…” You muttered, your back now arching at the sensations. It fell out of your mouth once, then twice, then you lost count.

Aaaand then your vibrator died.

You tried working yourself with your fingers but it just made you more annoyed. You got up with a huff, looking in your nightstand drawer for the charger. You were going to get yourself off on the one day you didn’t have work; it was customary. Well, you finally got the charger except it was very, very, short and all your outlets in your bedroom were very, very, far away from your dresser (atleast with a charger that size). You walk to your bathroom and put it to charge as the outlet was conveniently placed near the counter, for the typical hairdryer or flat iron.

Today, though? It would serve a different purpose for today.

And so you plugged in the vibrator, letting it charge and also letting it leave your mind, too.

How kind of Zayne to remind you left it there, right?

“Oh my god…Zayne, I forgot I left that out like that…” You begin, unable to even meet his gaze.

“It is a normal thing for people to…please themselves,” He paused in the midst of the sentence, his adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped, trying to deter any thoughts that were unprofessional. This was a health inquiry after all.

“During your appointment, though, you said everything was fine.”

“I did…”

“So, why do you need the vibrator?”

“What do you mean why? You know they’re not bad, right?”

“I’m aware. They’re typically used to help.”

His eyes bore into yours, a smirk ghosting his lips.

“So, I ask again; how’s your health? Do you need help with something?”

Oh, what a bastard.

It’s like your throat was in a vice as you heard him repeat the question he asked a while ago.

Slowly, he got up, approaching the bathroom. After he flicked on the light, he grabbed the bullet, examining it in the palm of his hand.

“You didn’t leave out any details, did you?”

God, what was he thinking? If you didn’t notice his smirk and the slight reddening of his ears, you’d think he was disappointed. He looked at you from the bathroom, resting against the doorframe.

You gulped.

Before you knew it, you had your legs spread before him as you sat in the dining table chair and he was on his knees, as if he were carefully examining you.

“Here? Is this good?” Zayne whispered in your ear as the vibrations at your core began to put a rise on your own pleasure. You only managed to nod, a sigh escaping your lips as you tossed your head to the side. Your eyes squeezed shut and he felt himself becoming aroused just at the sight. If only he knew that you touched yourself to the thought of him doing the things he’s doing to you right now. For now though, your moans became enough proof for him. It was so unfair. How did he get to reach those spots you desperately needed to be touched? The sensations along with his soft praises made your body begin to shiver and convulse, grabbing at his hair. The chair made abrupt noises from your body rocking against it.

“Yes…just like that….” He whispered, looking up at you in awe. He was salivating just at the sight, ready to reach his own release without even touching himself.

“Zayne…feels so…good…” You manage to get out, your eyes seeing the blurry figure of him through teary eyes before shutting again in pleasure. Then you felt something. The pressure that built in your body from earlier when you couldn’t reach your peak, from those nights before after work where you couldn’t get that “ah-ha” moment as you laid in your bed chasing orgasm after orgasm happened. Your legs clenched together around his hand as you let out a string of moans, reaching your climax.

Perhaps, maybe all you did need was a bit of help.