One Shots and Stories

UNDER THE TABLE | Zayn Malik

Summary : An impulse drives you to tease Zayn under the table during a family dinner, and it brings out a whole new side of you ...

Warning(s) : dom!Zayn, but also bottom!Zayn, smut, teasing, orgasm!denial, begging, bottom!reader, top!reader

Soundtrack :
"Skin" - Rihanna
"Touch" - Kehlani

"It feels good to be back," Zayn smiled warmly, looking across the table and nodding towards everyone.

He had just finished telling us about his trip to rural Scotland, of all the things he'd seen and all the songs he'd created being in a creative, liberating environment. He was gone for over two months, and before I ever got the chance to finally be in his presence, we were rushing out of the house for this dinner. 

He was wearing a blue suit, and his beard looked thicker than I've ever seen it. His dark hair looked a little disheveled with his hand constantly running through it, but he looked groomed nonetheless. I found myself staring at his big beautiful eyes, his presence blurring out my periphery. I was utterly mesmerized by the way they sparkled when he spoke, almost animatedly. And then I found myself staring achingly at his lips, pink and plump and parted as he licked them amidst his stories. His deep voice was smooth and deep, and sent shivers down my spine. I had to take a sip of water to control my escalated heart-rate and heavy breathing.

"How did you find a professional studio is a small town?" Jawaad asked, and Zayn took a sip of his drink before answering. "I actually recorded most of it outside, it was—"

In a moment of impulse and loss of control, I placed my hand on his knee, caressing through the trousers. And I felt him tense. He swallowed thickly before speaking again, "it was, erm, it was hard," he said breathlessly, and I gradually inched my hand higher, rubbing his inner thigh, "at the start, but I found a way to record without any interruptions."

As he spoke, his voice became more and more hoarse, and deeper as he tried to ignore the feel of my hand. I bit my lip, fighting back a smile as I continued my painful strokes against his inner thigh, watching Zayn's breathing accelerate and get heavier. He coughed under his breath as my nails gently grazed the outline of his cock, and I found him glaring at me as I tried to play it cool. I pulled my hand away and wrapped it around my drink, putting the straw into my mouth, sipping with my lips wrapped around it seductively with my eyes boring straight into Zayn's. His lips parted as a shaky breath left his mouth, his brows creasing as he realized just what I was doing.

"Hmm," I moaned quietly, "the food's great."

"It really is," Sawara said excitedly, but Jawaad eyed me curiously.

I lifted my leg subtly—the tablecloth being a god-sent the entire evening—and placed it on Zayn's. He swallowed audibly, having an affinity with my thighs, which I knew all too well about.

"Babe," he grumbled into my ear, "just what do you think you're doing?"

"I'm not doing anything," I answered teasingly, biting my lip as I held back a laugh. Zayn cursed under his breath, trying to get my leg off of his as unnoticeably as possible. But I stayed firm, using this moment to stroke his leg and his cock as he struggled to get me off. He bit his lip, trying not to moan as I rubbed my thigh up and down his shaft, continuing to chat with the rest of the table as if I wasn't torturing my fiancée.