If You Want To Make His Brain Melt Just Call Him A Good Boy Mid Conversation, It Works

If you want to make his brain melt just call him a good boy mid conversation, it works <3

also why does sleepy brain so easily turn into horny brain

hello :) and yk— what if— hear me out— somno w nanami. Like of course you’ve talked about it and of course you said it was okay…so nanami……shouldn’t feel dirty over it, right? It’s been a long long day and all he wanted to do— what he thought he wanted to do was just snuggle up against u and sleep. But then you had to go n sleep in his clothes..yeah…fuck…..that definitely did smthn to him. Just his shirt and underwear? oh baby..don’t be surprised when you wake up to your bf/husband between your legs…..

- 🧸

somno somno somno !! this is my favorite i know nanami gets carried away with the thought that you trust him so much to do this with him !!

somno with nanami 'i can just have sex with my wife when she wakes up' kento who wakes up after trying to be a nice husband and just let you sleep, groggy and disoriented.

but he's uncomfortably hard, his fat cock straining against the soft material of his pajama pants. he can feel that they're wet, the front soaked with his precum. that dream...that dream ruined him, the image of you confidently sat on his face, hands in his hair as he moaned into your cunt, dizzy from the taste, the smell, the feel of you...fuck, just thinking about it again make a thick gush of pre drip from him.

a quick glance and he knows your still sleeping...but your voice rings out in his head, hearing you excitedly giving him permission to touch you as you slept if he never needed you.

that's how he finds himself between your legs, his big hands holding your hips still as he devours you, messily making out with your pussy as he groans and sighs your name against your clit. "god, i missed you," he murmurs against your slit, tongue swiping over his lips before pressing a wet kiss to your clit. "missed you so much today."

he's given up on trying to let you sleep, he wants you, no, needs you to wake up. he misses the way you look at him needily, mouth open as you call his name, begging for him to make you cum. nanami's eyes are zeroed in on your face, waiting to see those eyes open.

"come on, honey, wake up, wake up for me." his tongue slides up your pussy, swirling against your clit before dipping back down into your oozing hole, groaning when he feels your hips cant up, the pudgy fat of your mound squishing into his mouth. he's always so messy when he eats you out, but he's trying even harder, wanting to see if he can make you cum right as you wake up. the wet squishing of his mouth kissing, sucking, and slurping at the sweet slick leaking from you and the cute sleepy moans he pulls from you are music to his ears.

but the poor man is too into it, too focused on the taste of your cunt to notice that you are awake. no, he doesn't realize it until your hands grab his hair and smush him against your pussy, crying his name as you cum, your cum pouring into his mouth as he just keeps eating you out.

"mm, sorry, honey, i got carried away," he softly mutters against you, his eyes looking into yours from his spot between your legs. "i wanted to see if i could put it in you before you woke up, but you just taste so divine." another lick up your cunt is followed by the feeling of nanami's fingers coating themselves in your wetness.

"can you give me one more? hm? just one more and i'll show you what i'll do to you next time you're sleeping so pretty for me."

⠀⠀⠀˗ˏˋsexy stretching ft. johnny 'soap' mactavishˎˊ˗

꒰ঌa/n໒꒱ not my normal content but i told u guys i'd be doing whatever tf i want on this blog now, no longer putting limitations on what i feel like writing. enjoy for any fans of soap :) (edit: i went back and used a eng to scot slang traslator to make it a bit more accurate lmfaooo, so i hope that kinda helps)

꒰warning(s)heavily suggestive꒱

Trips to the gym on your days off were routine and habitual, nobody to join your sessions which was your own doing. It felt distracting to have a gym partner. if you needed to be spotted, you'd just ask the nearest soldier. Simple. No fuss, no muss. This time, however, Soap had decided that he wanted to yoke in on your excursion to the facility. 

"C'mon, ye never lemme join." He whined, as he paced behind you trying to match up to your quick stride. Always in a hurry, always with purpose.

You exhaled softly through your nostrils as you peered over at his sheepish grin and stopped in front of him. He looked absolutely mouth-watering in his white compression short sleeve tee that carved into every muscle of his body and hugged his delicious arms, his dark grey 5in shorts clung to his slutty waist that he paired with a matching set of compression shorts that peaked underneath. "I never let anyone join me."

"Sae, lemme be th' first." He beamed, adjusting the strap of his duffel bag on his shoulder. You could only roll your eyes as you silently agreed and he could honestly jump for joy at this point. There was no use in telling declining him because he wouldn't shut up about it until you did anyways. It wasn't that you couldn't say no to him, but something about the way he would flash you that cute grin, thick dark lashes that framed his cerulean eyes that didn't allow room for a 'no' from you. Some part of you felt like Johnny knew that. Using his charm and witty, suggestive comments to win you over. It wasn't hard, like, at all.

You dropped your duffel bag with an unceremious thud and began your stretches, Soap mimicking your every move. Another huff left your lips.

His dimples deepened as he chuckled. "What? We're s’pose t’be partners."

"Alright, jeez..." You ran a hand through your hair as you grabbed a mat and set it on the ground. "Make yourself useful and help me stretch my legs out then."

He eagerly agreed as he sat on the opposite side of you to begin your high kicker's stretch, spreading your legs in a 90 degree angle with your feet pressing against his. You quirked a brow at him with amusement at his less than 90 degree angle leg spread. "Is that as far as you can go?"

He scoffed. "Listen, ‘m not flexible lik' ye. Ye'r a lass."

"That's sexist."

"That's basic anatomy."

You gave him a wicked grin before using your foot to extend his stretch, which earned a very satisfying yelp from him. "Get flexible, Sergeant."

Regardless of the dirty look he shot you, he offered out both of his hands to begin your portion of the stretch and if you hadn't been so damn limber it would've definitely cost you some PT time.

"Damn, [name], y’r flexible as hell." Surprise and admiration in his tone as he reclined your form to the fullest extent. The tip of your nose reaching the mat. He felt like he was simulating a slinky. 

"I know." You rise up from your position as he relinquishes you to switch. "Your turn." You gave him the most sinister, spine-shudder inducing grin before clasping onto his hands and extending him beyond his own limits. His breath caught in his throat for a moment preparing himself for the most asshole-tearing, toe curling stretch of his life. He couldn't even make out a word. Just a single droplet of sweat hitting the mat that had sent you into a fit of laughter.

"…jesus pumpin' christ…[name]. I think ye might've torn me a new arsehole." He groaned, as he started to feel the burn.

"Well, these are the consequences of being my gym partner. Gotta get you right." A smug expression on your face as you observed sweat forming on the base of his neck, soaking the neckline of his Under Armor compression tee. 

He chuckled. "Dinnae git a' sly wi' me, [last name]."

"Or what? You're in quite a compromising position, Johnny." You emphasized his nickname in a taunting manner that made the grin on his face spread. 

"I'll show y’ a compromising position." He muttered under his breath.

"Say again?" 

He mumbled a 'nothin' that you mentally noted but didn't argue with. You were merciful enough to slowly let him out of the painful position you placed him in and a sigh of relief escaped his lips. You surveyed him behind your hydroflask as he reached for his hand towel and patted himself down. "Breakin' a sweat, already?"

He flashed you a mischevious grin. "You're gonnae sloch yer words, Sergeant."

You simply ignored his remark as you laid your back against the mat, his strong hands gently grasping at your ankle was only a ruse in comparison to the painstakingly slow, burning stretch that he was inflicting on you. It illicited a small yet entirely involuntarily breathy moan that passed your parted glossed lips with brows that furrowed in an almost all too lewd manner. He hadn't noticed that his crotch was positioned right at your middle and you felt his hardness press up against you. Tension seemed like it saturated the gym air even through the heavily ventaliation. You couldn't help but feel flustered as warmth spread not only to your cheeks but to your groin. As you attempted to sit up from your position, Johnny held you still. "Hips down, Sergeant."

Body rigid and eyes wide as he proudly knelt over you, towering over your form. Primal instincts were nearly about to take over as he admired the way you were beginning to break a sweat. His hands firm on your ankle as he shifted his bodyweight onto you once more, a small huff leaving your mouth not going unnoticed by his curious gaze. He peeked at you under heavy, dark lashes as he keenly observed the way your body shuddered, now convulsing against the mat and his pressed form. Paltry, muffled  whines stumbled out of your mouth completely against your will as he stretched your leg past its original limit. He was practically splitting in you half as he urged his half-chub against your clothed sex. It wasn't difficult to note through the thin cloth of your leggings.

"Tha’s a deep stretch, lassie. Ye sure ye kin handle it?" His Scottish accent was sexy and breathy as if he was in you, stretching your walls. The question didn't feel like it was concerning the calf stretch anymore. 

One too many shaky exhales and a few more drops of sweat later, you could finally muster a, 'yes'. A shit-eating grin spread across his lips and you could only curse him in your mind. No, no, not under your breath. You were now in the compromising position that he was muttering about just a few moments ago. You could curse yourself for allowing him to tag along with you.  Damn him. 

He unwillingly tore his gaze from you for a moment when the realization of you two being out in public dawned upon him, but as he scouted the area it was minimal and still. Only a few soldiers were on the floor, completely zoned in on their own workouts and spread far away from you two. Far enough from any prying eyes and his hungry expression went right back to you, eyeing you like you were mere prey. "Jus’ tell me when." He murmured, elongating your leg even further down and you could look at him with scrutinized eyes as another whine passed and a shudder went up your body. Johnny loved the way you gazed up at him. Lips agape as you struggled for breath, drool slighting the corner of your lips, knowing that at any moment you said anything but, 'yes, sir', or 'no, sir' would end up with nothing but torturous pain. 

But you liked that. You liked, loved even, the way he pushed all your buttons without fail. Helpless and bashful under him. An unsteady breath left his lips as he focused on you and the way your body contorted so sapidly for him.

So, so dirty. He thought to himself. His eyes studying the way you swallowed hard. He wanted to taunt you even more, but Johnny decided to be clement as he relinquished you slowly allowing you to breathe again. You drew a large, labored breath as you sat up not able to look his way as he chuckled at you. 

"You're an asshole." You hissed, as you took a large swig of your drink nearly feeling like you were going to choke from how fast your heart was beating.

"'n' ye liked it." He raised his brows at you, imitating your gesture and taking a sip of his own drink. You averted your gaze, feeling your cheeks warm as he chuckled at your embarrassment. Johnny absolutely adored teasing you, and you welcomed it. 

☾ .⭒˚ Snowy Serenity ♡ Zayne x AFAB!Reader

⋆.˚ ☾ pairing: sub zayne x afab!reader (very fem!reader)

☾ .⭒˚ genre: smut, porn with some plot, porn with feelings

⋆.˚ ☾ word count: 7.7k

☾ .⭒˚ content warning: mdni, explicit sexual content, somewhat public sex, f!riding, blowjob m!receiving, unprotected sex, sub zayne, like he’s kinda whiny and needy here, but tastefully, vulnerable zayne fr, kinda dom!reader, reader is kind of a menace here LOL, pretty vanilla for the most part, multiple orgasms m!receiving, lots of feelings, use of y/n,  lots of making out, some fluff at the end?

⋆.˚ ☾ video link: not necessary to watch in order to read and enjoy, but i highly recommend watching the memory for context and a visual for the fic! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P1TQQqqSH5U

☾ .⭒˚ a/n: SURPRISE IT’S HERE EARLY!! I really wanted to get this one out ASAP so I could start on a new jiyan (wuthering waves) fic hehe, so stay tuned if you like the sound of that! 

This is my take and continuation on the new “Snowy Serenity” Zayne memory, with slight dialogue tweaks! Zayne is very vulnerable, needy, and overall sub in this one, so if you’re not a fan of that this will prob not be your fav! You can read any of my other Zayne fics, in which he is dom in all of them :D it’s a new version of Zayne for me, so I did my best!! Apologies if it’s not the best take on a sub Zayne.

I hope you guys are doing great <3 i miss writing for you guys. PLEASE ENJOYYYY ya filthy zayne enjoyers (me)

⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚

The deafening sound of metal thudding shut resounded in the frigid air of the underground shelter you found yourself and Zayne seeking safe haven in. Through the pounding of your thundering heart, you don’t notice Zayne thrusting a first aid kit into your frozen fingers, and then backing against the opposite wall, as far away from you as he can get. 

You can vaguely hear the roars of wanderers lingering outside and in the halls of the abandoned protocore energy converter you’d traversed the blizzard to find after Zayne had gone missing for 4 days, 1 day longer than he had promised he’d be gone for. The ground slightly trembled as the beasts raged on outside, growing fainter as they grew tired and uninterested in waiting for the two of you. 

Your heart pounds forcefully, almost painfully, the energy fluctuations causing irregular palpitations that make it feel as if your chest might explode. Thankfully, it slowly comes to a gentle and regular beat and Zayne’s voice finally reaches your ears.

“You need to tend to your arm. Can you do it by yourself?” his voice comes out incredibly pained and forced. At first you assume it’s from the, no doubt, plethora of injuries he’d likely endured after being stuck on the frozen mountain for days, but when your eyes reach his green ones, you notice the emotional turmoil and anguish locked behind his darkened emerald irises. 

The surgeon sits at the wall farthest from you, skin looking even paler than you remember under the dim lights of the abandoned shelter, the frost spreading across his throbbing neck, glistening like the sun against the shimmering sea. You notice how the frozen flakes form not only on his skin like usual, but even on the collar of his thick black coat, and on the sleeves that cut off at his wrist. You stop yourself from shivering at the sight, realizing you’ve never seen Zayne like this. You’ve seen him struggle to control his Evol before, much to his dismay, but nothing like this. 

You trace his line of vision to the shard of ice, formed into the unmistakable shape of an arrow, embedded shallowly in your arm. You suck in a breath, realizing Zayne must have accidentally struck you when he’d aimed to attack the wanderers that’d surfaced behind you. From the pain on his face, you know Zayne realized it too. 

Wanting it out immediately, so as not to give Zayne any extra reasons to want to keep his distance, you carelessly yank it out. It takes a bit of force, but the wound is so shallow you don’t even flinch. Not that you’d say this to Zayne, but you’d definitely dealt with far worse and bloodier as a hunter. 

The frighteningly beautiful piece of ice shatters as you chuck it at the ground, rushing to his side without a second thought. You ignore him weakly shuffling away from you, taking his large hand into the two of your smaller ones. His skin is even icier than usual, and your heart clenches at the thought of him having to brave the arctic snowstorm by himself these past few agonizing days. 

Surprise overtakes you when Zayne doesn’t yank his hand away. You could count on one hand how many times Zayne had let you see him lose control of his Evol, but not once had he ever let you get close enough to really inspect him. The idea that he felt so defeated and exhausted right now that he could not physically push you away was enough to make tears well in your eyes, your throat catching as you forced them away.

Squeezing his hand in yours, you take this rare chance to really closely inspect your boyfriend, who sat so diligently before you. It’s then you notice that it’s not just frost that blankets his pale skin. You hold back a cry when your eyes follow the line of tiny, sharp, and deadly shards of ice protruding from his body. Your teeth gnashes against your lip as you do your best to hold back the sobs that threaten to escape as you stare at the icicles. It felt depressingly poetic, how something so beautiful could be hurting him so.

“Zayne! You –” But Zayne silences you when he brings his finger and free hand to his lips, forcing a smile as he gently shushes you.

“You can scold me all you want…after we leave here, all right?” You purse your lips at his words, wanting to give into his wishes but unable to withhold your overflowing emotions and concern.

“...This always happens. And you owe me big time already,” you grumble sulkily, bringing his hand that’s encased in yours up to your lips, puffing out frustratedly in hopes to warm him up with your breath. 

You sigh contentedly despite yourself when his cold finger finds its way to the side of your cheek, caressing your nearly frostbitten skin. You instinctively lean into his touch, not caring in the least how his ice cold skin leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake. 

“Didn’t I say I’d call you once I got out? Why did you come here alone?” Zayne’s tone sounds accusatory and upset, almost like he was scolding a child for your poor judgment and bad choices. 

“You haven’t said anything for more than three days. And without you, there won’t be anyone to make sure I eat breakfast,” you bite back. The harsh words you want to tell him die on your lips, as you simply shake your head in disbelief, not wanting to argue with the stubborn surgeon. Your heart had ached dearly for him in the last week, and infinitely more so in the last 4 days. You could berate him later, for now you just wanted to relish in the fact that he was safe. 

You release his hand, instead wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him tightly to your chest in a bone crushing hug. You slot your body firmly against his, feeling absolutely unwilling to ever let him out of your sight and arms again. 

Zayne shudders gently against your hold, but doesn’t make any moves to push you away. He groans inwardly, silently praying you assume his reactions are a result from the shards of ice piercing his skin, and not a result of your touch after he’d been starved of you for a week.

His voice is muffled as he speaks into the crook of your neck, “You might get hurt. It’s possible I won’t…” you can vaguely hear him gulp, “be able to control myself.” 

He clears his throat, continuing, “I’m referring to my Evol.” You don’t notice his eyes that are latched onto the angry red skin where you’d pulled the ice arrow out of your bicep. 

You pull away so that your faces come just mere inches apart, while still keeping your arms wrapped around him. Squinting at him, you grumble, “You should stay quiet while I’m still pitying you.”

With your breath mingling with his, you can practically see his resolve melt away as he sighs and wraps his muscular arms around your back. You smile to yourself at the feel of his strong hands around you, nuzzling your body impossible closer to his. His jaw subtly clenches at the feeling of your body melting into his, torn between embracing you fiercely and pushing you away. But the smell of your shampoo and pheromones invades his senses, making it difficult for him to think rationally.

“A while ago, someone promised me it was the last time I’d have to worry about him.”

Unable to keep himself back any longer, Zayne decides to give in, just a little. He buries himself into the top of your head into the mess of your hair, inhaling your scent deeply, “It’s not serious. I’ll survive.”

“I knew it. You’re better off not talking,” you scold sulkily, only half jokingly. He smiles into your head, letting a brief moment of welcomed silence come between you two. Unconsciously, your hold tightens against him. 

“Do you feel better?” 

“I do,” he reassures you, stroking your hair, “I’m okay now.”

You pull back slightly so you can take a good look at him. It’s then you notice the frost melting away from the areas in which your touch meets his body. Intrigued, you use your Evol, letting it emanate from the tips of your fingers, softly gripping an ice covered patch of his arm. You gasp when the snowy expanse recedes, almost like you held a flame to it.  

“What are you doing?” Zayne’s sudden voice cuts through your concentration, his urgent alarm almost bordering on frenzy.

“Zayne, my Evol can help you!”

“Impossible. You must be seeing things.” You’re taken aback at his cold tone, so surprised you don’t resist when he pushes you off him. His eyes refuse to meet yours.

“But it actually worked. Look!” You grab his wrist forcefully, the mere touch of your skin causing your Evols to resonate, the Resonance faintly rippling out of the area where your bodies meet. You gape in awe as you watch the icicles embedded in Zayne’s skin shrink back almost instantaneously and melt away into his coat. 

Zayne pulls his arm back and instead grasps your wrist in his strong fingers, eyes seemingly pleading with yours, “There will be a price to pay. It’s not as simple as you think.” His voice is low and desperate, unusually so. 

As the words leave his lips, a piercing sensation erupts in your palm from where your skin came into contact with his. The pain seems to frost over your veins rapidly, heading straight to your chest. You cry out as the muscles of your heart seemingly freeze and incinerate all at the same time, the muscles contracting painfully and far too quickly. Your knees buckle from the agony, and Zayne catches you with very little effort.

“Y/N!” 

The anguish in Zayne’s frantic voice causes you to seek him out, but your body refuses to cooperate, only able to allow him to carry you to the makeshift hospital bed set up in the abandoned shelter. As he sets you down, impossibly gently like you’re a withering flower, he speaks.

“Using your Evol to control the backlash of mine is dangerous. I don’t want –”

You ground yourself, forcing yourself to find your voice, “I told you to be quiet…Here you go again with ‘impossible’ and ‘you must be seeing things’...” Your tone is almost snappy, unhappy with how he’s always unwilling to share his pain with you, going as far as lying to keep you from taking any of the burden. 

As the pain in your heart ebbs away, you shake your head and sit up on the edge of the bed, “When will you finally say something I want to hear?” Zayne sits at the foot of the bed, his upper body twisted so that he faces you completely. 

His voice comes out as a reluctant whisper, “I want to protect you. Dragging you into a dangerous situation is the last thing I want.” He averts his gaze as the words leave his lips.

When he finally brings his eyes back to yours, a storm of emotions brew behind his glowing green-hazel eyes, “I don’t want the person I love to get hurt because of me.” His palm finds your cheek once more. Grazing your cheek faintly before looping your loose hair behind your ear. Your brief frustrations with him melt away as you watch the emotions flit across Zayne’s face. Your normally stoic and emotionally controlled boyfriend looked so vulnerable, desperate, and conflicted before you.

His despondent eyes lowered, almost like he was disappointed with himself. Your heart squeezes as your hand cupped his cheek, guiding him closer to you. 

“But the person you love might not feel the same way,” you counter tenderly, wanting to take away the agonizing sadness from his beautiful features. You hold his face lovingly, hoping to convey even a fraction of the adoration you have for him as his eyes cast downward, wrangling with the anger he felt with himself, at putting you in danger today. 

“She’s always wanted…to protect you as well,” at your words, Zayne grasps the hand you have on his cheek with his own palm, leaning further into your touch. You ignore the frost that ebbs into your own palm, like fracturing glass, at his touch. Instead, you focus on the vulnerability in Zayne’s eyes, as he sighs and turns his face so that he can brush his lips into your palm, pressing a fleeting kiss into your cold skin. 

“Really…I shouldn’t have let you see me like this,” he laments regretfully, but he doesn’t let go of your hand, insteading nuzzling into it like a child with their favorite security blanket. His gaze locks onto yours before faltering, the intensity behind his eyes crackling, silently pleading with you to understand. 

But you refuse to relent, removing your hand from his cheek and leaning in closer, pressing your hands against his frost covered chest, “But I’ve already decided to face this with you.” Your voice cracks as you continue, unwittingly expressing your insecurities.

“Unless…Unless you say you don’t need me.”

Zayne sighs, slightly in disbelief, “How could you think that?” When you don’t speak, he continues. 

“When we were apart these few days, I was always thinking about you,” he confesses, grabbing your wrist laid gently against his chest, clasping his long fingers over yours and intertwining your fingers. He continues, “Whether or not you’ve been eating properly, taking care of yourself, and if you would be upset if we never saw each other again – you occupied my every thought.”

Your breath is stuck in your throat as you take in the weight of his words. Zayne brings your joined hands back to his cheek, unfolding your fingers to cup his face, leaning into your touch once more. Your chest clenches at how adorably and unusually needy he’s being, your thumb stroking his blush.

“If I hadn’t been missing you…Perhaps I wouldn’t have struggled to hold on until you found me.” His words stun you. You hadn’t realized your relationship might ever cause Zayne grief, beyond being an irritable girlfriend. It never crossed your mind that it would pain Zayne to leave you behind when he’d have to go on month long medical missions to the arctic. That his thoughts would be so invaded by you that it’d make simply existing a difficult task. 

As you grapple with these revelations, Zayne leans in, holding your face so desperately in his hands and pulling you closer to him. Even sitting, he towered over you, his head coming down to whisper against your flushed skin, his breath fanning across your lips as he tilted your head upward towards him.

“I need you,” he states, his voice bordering on a plea, “I have never denied that. It’s just…”

You can hardly focus on his words as you watch his lips longingly, desperate to feel the cool expanse of his mouth slotting against yours. 

“It’s not the kind of need you think it is,” he murmurs, the vulnerability and desperation so apparent in the way his breath comes out in short pants. Unable to hold back any longer, Zayne crashes his lips to yours, letting all carnal desire take over. 

His large hands are firm against your cheek and neck, as if scared he’d lose you at any moment. At the same time, he pushes you backwards, gently lowering his thick weight onto you. Your back hits the rough sheets of the hospital bed while Zayne nibbles at your bottom lip, silently pleading with you to let him in. Instead of relenting, you swipe your tongue across his lip, urging the same of him. Zayne groans into your mouth, bordering dangerously close to a whine. 

The sound makes your gut clench with anticipation, your chest heaving with your breaths and your fist gripping his shoulder to bring him closer. 

But to your disappointment he pulls away, his eyes sparkling down at you sprawled out on the bed. His cheeks are flushed pink, lips puffy and pink, a rare sight for you to behold. The frost has rapidly started to melt away from his coat and even his skin, almost like your mere touch was enough to thaw the biting frozen reigns of his evol. 

Your hand snakes behind his neck, pulling him back towards your lips. Zayne looks slightly startled, his mouth  parted open in surprise, but he lets you guide him to you.

He pulls away after another brief kiss. You can tell by the expression on his flustered face that there’s more he wants to say to you, a rarity for Zayne. Normally the heart surgeon preferred to convey his emotions with his actions. You’d hardly ever seen him like this. 

“If I must say something now…Then I…” he trails off, trying to find the words. It’s obvious he’s out of his comfort zone as he once again averts his gaze, cheeks flushed an adorable peach. When he finally looks back up at you, stroking the side of your face with his fingers, his voice holds the heavy weight of his feelings, “I’m glad you’re here.”

Before you can respond, Zayne’s lips are descending upon yours once more, his eyelids hooded with desire. Desire for you.  

This time he kisses you with much more force, as if his confession had broken down the barriers of his restraint. His hand firmly holds your face, fingers threading into your hair, pulling harder, rougher. His hands are damp, the uncontrollable frost of his evol melting away as he beheld the love of his lives in his hands. 

Your tongues bruised along each other, savoring every second the pair of you had longed for so deeply this past week. His knee pushed into your thigh, spreading them apart fully so he could slot himself between your legs, hard body brushing against your pulsing core.

But just as fast as his desperation had come, Zayne was pulling away. You look at him in disappointment, a pout forming on your bruised lips. You waited for him to speak, but he only readjusts his tie, his eyes glued to the quickly purpling bruise forming on your bicep. You could visibly see his eyes darken, the anguish on his expression palpable. Though he doesn’t speak, you know what he’s thinking.

I’m glad you’re here, but I wish you weren’t. 

You sigh, knowing he’s torturing himself over accidentally hurting you, and the possibility that it could happen again. Though the glistening frost still ebbed on his skin, the icicles had receded and you were confident Zayne would not hurt you. 

Your hands instinctively seek him out, wanting to show him that you’re alright. You clutch the collars of his coat, yanking him to you with as much force as you can muster.

He groans under his breath, the need just barely audible.

“Y/N…” he warns, doing his best to keep his distance despite your desperate clutches. You ignore him, throwing your thigh over his lap and bringing his lips to yours once more. Zayne hisses as you seat yourself on his twitching thighs, his muscles straining under his restraint. Though he doesn’t push you off, he keeps his hands firmly at his sides, so as to not touch you.

With your lips never leaving his, you grab his hands and place them on your hips, simultaneously bearing down harder on his lap. A ghost of a smile finds its way to your mouth when you feel the unmistakable outline of his throbbing erection against the apex of your thighs. 

As you move to unbutton his shirt, Zayne’s strong fingers find your wrist, halting your desperate actions. 

“Not here. Not now,” Zayne grits. 

“No one will be here for hours,” you murmur, pleadingly against his cheek, “No one will find us.” You grind into his massive erection, biting your lip as you reminisce on just how well he can fill you up. The man beneath you pants at your movements, his fingers digging into your wrists. His grip is painful, yet you only find yourself wanting him to hold you tighter, rougher. 

“This is not the kind of place I ever wanted you to have to be, let alone…” he trails off, his voice low and dangerous.

“But I don’t care,” you protest, unintentionally squirming in his lap out of frustration. Zayne throws his head back, a stream of expletives leaving his lips.

“You truly love to test me, don’t you?”

You giggle, mistakenly taking his words as playful confirmation. But when you look into his eyes, you see just how tortured he really is. Immediately you stop.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer, “If you don’t want –”

But Zayne cuts you off with a pained groan, “I need you.” His words echo what he’d said earlier.

Not the kind of need you think it is. 

“But I can’t control myself…not when I’m inside you… I could hurt you.”

You do your best to understand where he’s coming from, but it’s not enough to keep you away from him. “Zayne…” you murmur against his parted lips, “You trust me don’t you?”

“With my life,” he swears, sounding absolutely tormented, “It’s me I don’t trust.”

You gently stroke his neck, hands trailing down to his marbled chest, “Then let me take care of you, okay?”

The conflicting emotions swim rapidly in his eyes, but he finds himself giving in, his dick twitching, desperate to be inside your heat, "You'll have to take control.”

Instead of responding, you climb off his lap, sliding onto your knees before him. You guide his legs to spread as you settle between them. Your eyes never leave his as your fingers undo his belt, swiftly freeing his cock.

You bit back a gasp as you watched his thick manhood spring out, tapping against his heaving abdomen. After a week of deprivation, it was truly like witnessing his glory for the first time all over again. You thumb gently at the throbbing vein on the underside of his girth, mouth salivating at the mere sight of him. You trail your fingers up to his weeping slit, collecting the oozing pre cum there and smearing it across his thick tip.

Zayne pants, his fingers weaving into your hair, “Don’t tease me. Please.” You’re stunned at his words, enjoying  the rare instance of Zayne begging. 

“You said you needed me to take control…” you murmur, your voice coming out far more sultry than you’d ever heard it, “so let me.”

Zayne’s jaw clenches, his Adam's apple bobbing excitedly at the way you command him, “Okay.”

“Good boy,” you whisper, before guiding his leaking tip into your mouth. Zayne hisses, hips bucking upward into your mouth, but to his dismay you press him back down. Wordlessly, he understands what your actions are conveying and he reluctantly lets you resume the lead, not at all used to giving up control when it came to your collective pleasure. 

You swirl your tongue around his tip, rewarding him for his very thin patience. You enjoy the way his pleasured noises meet your ears, the grunts bordering on strangled whimpers. 

“Sh-shit,” he groans, doing his best to sit still for you, “Please Y/N.”

You let your lips tighten around his shaft as you briefly pop him out of your mouth, teasing him innocently, “Hmm?”

Zayne groans at your feigned innocence, not used to being the one needing to ask for things, “Please…Please don’t stop. Feels…feels perfect.”

Your heart soars at his praises, sinking him back into your mouth. The taste of his arousal coats your tongue as you take him deep into your throat. Tears spill from your eyes as you gag around his impossible thickness, but you feel nothing but motivated as Zayne whimpers above you. 

“I-I need –,” he moans, fingers gently gripping your scalp, grounding him to this moment, “I need you. I always need you.”

His words encourage you further, your bobs on his length increasing in speed and vigor. You intend to take full advantage of this moment, of seeing Zayne so utterly desperate for you. Unabashedly at your mercy.  

Not an inch of his manhood remains untouched as you use your hands in tandem with your mouth to render him into a groaning and panting mess. The sounds coming from the man you love make your thighs squirm, a familiar dampness forming in your panties. Your jaw aches at his girth, but you’re determined to keep going. 

“You’re perfect,” Zayne grunts, “So damn perfect.” You peer up at him through your teary eyelashes, enjoying the view of the rosy blush painted on his pale cheeks as his head laid thrown back in sheer pleasure. 

Zayne can’t seem to contain his rambles, fully succumbing to the bliss only you could provide him, “Don’t stop. Please don’t — hah — fucking stop.”

His eyes lock onto yours, and your gaze instantly catches on the corners of his eyes that glisten unusually under the dim lighting in the shelter. 

He’s crying.

You’re taken aback, instantly filled with worry, “Zayne? Are you okay? Should we — ”

Zayne’s response is instant, his head snapping up desperately searching for you, “No.” He clears his throat before continuing, gently cupping your chin in his fingers. He tries to subtly guide your lips back to his aching tip.

“Continue. Please.”

The longing  in his words is enough to make you envelope him back into your mouth, wanting nothing more than to please him, his pleasure fueling your own. The idea that you could make him feel an ecstasy that made literal tears pool in his eyes fueled your own excitement beyond belief. Your core ached with a week’s worth of need, need for the astonishingly handsome man falling apart at the tip of your tongue. 

“Anything for you, when you ask so sweetly,” you giggle. This time you take him directly into your throat, as deep as you can before your body starts to reject his unbelievable size. Your throat constricts deliciously around him, once again short circuiting his brain into a rambling mess.

“You don’t understand how difficult it was to leave…when you feel like this.” His words make you moan in satisfaction, the vibrations running along his pulsing veins, straight to his sensitive balls. 

“H-holy fuck,” Zayne pants, his hips bucking slightly into your mouth while your hands are occupied with stroking the length that couldn’t fit into your mouth, “Couldn’t stop thinking about you. About this.”

Wanting to see him come completely undone, you take his hefty balls into your palm, kneading just hard enough to have him writhing with need. The copious amounts of arousal that flood into your waiting mouth and the unrestrained twitching of his length signal to you that he’s close.

Zayne taps your cheek, signaling just that, “Love, I’m –” But you shut him up, your tongue running along his sensitive vein, cheeks hollowing, and fingers massaging. With a strangled cry, his hands gripping your hair roughly, Zayne releases himself into your mouth. It’s endless, too many nights worth of pent up need for you, and so warm against your tongue. 

Zayne’s whole body heaves, still recovering from the orgasm. Through the haze, Zayne stares at you lovingly, cupping your chin in his strong fingers.

“Spit it out,” he commands lowly, worried his questionable and limited arctic diet would negatively affect how he tasted. You shake your head vehemently, staring straight into his glassy green eyes, making a show of letting your throat bob with a slow gulp, relishing in the taste of him. Nothing would ever stop you from savoring what Zayne gave you.

Zayne swears, his voice edged and his eyes dangerously dark as he takes you in, “You’re trying to drive me fucking insane aren’t you?”

You bat your lashes at him innocently, “I would never do that.” Climbing into his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck and shimmy out of your thermal leggings. You’re left in your panties, translucent from the slick pooling in between your thighs, grinding against Zayne’s exposed length which still stands proudly against his abdomen, already ready for more. 

“Can I?” you ask, suddenly bashful. But Zayne doesn’t respond, eyes glued to your glistening covered cunt. His fingers nimbly slide against your folds, rubbing up and down, catching torturously on your clit. It’s almost like he can’t hear you, mesmerized by how aroused you’ve become from just sucking him off. 

You take that opportunity to take him by the base of his cock, moving your panties to the side and rubbing the engorged tip against your weeping slit, his arousal mixing with your own. The warmth of your waiting cunt snaps Zayne out of his gaze, his eyes darting to yours.

“Y/N…” he warns, voice low, dark, but desperate.

You pause, wanting to respect his boundaries, “Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.”

He swears under his breath, repeating his words from earlier, “You’re going to need to do it.” You nod excitedly, but he continues.

“Once we start, I won’t be stopping. Not until I see you come undone all over me,” he says, almost like a final warning. You press yourself deeper into his chest, lips brushing against the shell of his ear.

“Would never want to stop Zayne,” you purr, before sinking onto his waiting cock. You hiss at the stretch, body still unprepared for his girth. Zayne pants at the mere entrance of his tip inside your pussy, his throat bobbing as his head tosses back. His hands claw at the hospital bed sheets, seemingly not trusting himself to touch you in this state. You pause, trying to give yourself a second to adjust.

“Love…” he bites out, voice tinged with insurmountable emotions, “Please.”

Feeling mischievous, you prolong your pause longer than you’d originally intended, parroting words he’d demanded of you countless times, “Please what Zayne? You have to tell me what you want.”

Zayne appears unamused, his jaw ticking in frustration. His knuckles are white as he does his best to restrain himself against your teasing, eyes hooded and dangerously stormy. You know you’re definitely going to regret teasing Zayne later, but for now you decide to enjoy the power he’s letting you wield.

But you’re surprised by his next words, coming out heartbreakingly gentle, “Please Y/N. I…I need you.” The sincerity and vulnerability behind his words makes you shiver, your thighs moving instinctively to take his throbbing erection fully into your cunt. 

Your simultaneous moans mingle in the enclosed space, entwined with the slick sounds of your body melding with Zayne’s. The unbelievably lewd squelches of your body receiving him makes you bite your lip as you seat yourself fully on Zayne’s lap. 

This position always lets you take Zayne as deeply as humanly possible. It's almost painful how his cock presses into your deepest parts, the drag of his tip making you want to slump over and succumb to the blinding pleasure. 

“Ride me, love,“ Zayne begs. His large palms twitch with the need to grab you, fighting with the logical part of himself that knows he should keep his hands to himself. His pleas fuel you with confidence, your cunt leaking profusely at the delicious way his girth stretches you to your absolute limit.

Your thighs move on instinct, clasp tightly against his larger legs. Your breath comes out in hot puffs, torridly breathless as your body struggles to accommodate him. Your clit brushes against the rough fabric of Zayne’s undershirt at every bounce, your orgasm building quickly under the tension.

“Nngh, just like that,” Zayne moans, the sound of his pleasure so unbelievably erotic, “You’re so perfect.” His words go straight to your core, your pussy clenching as it takes him in repeatedly. Your breasts bounce vigorously under your thermal shirt in rhythm with your thighs bobbing up and down on Zayne’s lap.

The way your cunt clenches at every bounce has Zayne seeing stars, his thoughts turning to incoherent mush, “I want you. I need you. Need more of you…”

You whimper at his words, doing your best to maintain your composure and upperhand. But as his cock bruises against every possible sensitive inch of your pussy, you can feel yourself falling apart. Your nerves burned with unrelenting pleasure, fueled by the view of Zayne faring even worse underneath you.

Small beads of sweat slid down Zayne’s brow, almost crystalizing against his intensely frigid skin. His eyes were hazed over with a thick cloud of lust, lips bruised and shiny from your earlier kiss. His cheeks were beautifully dusted with a red blush as he watched you, the woman he loved and cherished more than life itself, fuck herself unabashedly onto his lap.

“Haah…it was absolute hell leaving you…” he grounds out between his moans.

Your attention perks up temporarily, your voice breathless and weak, “R-really?”

“Do you have any idea how warm and perfect you are here?” Zayne finally breaks his rule and touches you, his fingers reaching to brush torridly against your vibrating clit. You whimper, clenching uncontrollably around him, hips still bouncing rhythmically on top of him. Your actions make Zayne groan, biting the inside of his cheek to stop the whines from escaping. 

“How could I leave knowing you feel like this around me,” Zayne forces out, his thumb rubbing gently at your slippery clit, “Absolute hell.” 

You find yourself bouncing with more conviction at his confession, probably with more intensity than you’ve ever ridden him with. Your unabashed cries of pleasure mingle with your warm breath, right by Zayne’s red ear. 

The sound of your pleasure only serves to push Zayne further, “That’s it love, just like that. I’m all yours, ride me just like that.” 

With his fingers still toying at your clit, Zayne looks up at you so adoringly. His brows furrowed together as he took in the sight of you, his beautiful angel riding him like you absolutely owned him. Which you absolutely did. 

You can only whine at his words, all your energy and concentration funneled into pleasuring yourself, and him, atop his strong thighs. 

His puffy pink lips parted again, “You’re…fuuck, you’re so damn beautiful.” Your eyes squeeze shut at his praises, abdomen clenching in excitement. You itch for Zayne to touch you more, for his fingers to bruise your hips, his hands to leave angry handprints on your thighs. 

You grab his free arm, looping it around your waist to firmly hold against your lower back. Your shirt had ridden up from all the activity, so your skin was exposed for him. In doing so, you notice that the sharp icicles embedded into his delicate skin have completely melted away, but a beautiful path of snowflakes ebb from his fingertips up to his thick forearm, veins bulging deliciously. 

You hope he doesn’t notice as you quickly bring his palm to the small of your back, forcing the shiver back as his chilly skin meets yours. Zayne’s eyes are blown open in hesitation, and you can tell he’s fighting with the urge to yank his hand away. But before he can, you plead with him. 

“Please, touch me, Zayne.” He swears, unable to deny you when your eyes flutter at him dazedly, voice coming out in a sultry, desperate, rasp. 

“Anything for you,” he agrees, words unsure but voice deep and demanding. His fingers gently dig into your back, grounding himself to the immense pleasure of your walls unrelentlessly squeezing against him. His rough grip on your body has your vision sparking with pleasure.

“I-I’m not going to last much longer,” Zayne warns, his hand leaving your clit to grip against your back, drawing you in closer, harder. The blush on his cheeks intensifies as he comes closer to his release, his jaw edged so sharply it looks as if his frozen skin could cut. He buries his face into your chest, biting against the fabric of your thermal top.

Zayne swears, cursing the Gods for allowing him to leave you clothed as he yearned to suck at your skin, at your breasts, to ease some of the intensity that chokes at his throat. His grip on your back only intensifies as he gasps at your chest, inexplicably swearing as you ride him into oblivion. 

“Can I cum inside? Please,” his eyes dart to yours, desperate and pleading, like he’d absolutely combust if you denied him. You nod fervently, wanting nothing more than to feel his warmth inside you. 

Without a further warning, Zayne releases into you with a strangled grunt, almost as if he could not physically hold himself back for a second longer. Like he absolutely could not control the orgasm your body was inflicting on him.

His creamy seed spurts against your walls, the heat coating every possible ridge of your welcoming cunt, taking it all. It seems endless, your body shivering at every single pump of his finish, thighs still bobbing up and down, fucking Zayne through his orgasm. His cum coating your walls only serves to lubricate your quivering pussy more, exciting you and pushing you towards your own orgasm. You vaguely feel a cold sheen along the expanse of your lower back, likely a harmless layer of frost emanating from his hands still gripping you desperately as he continues to release into you. The thought leaves your mind as quickly as it comes, your focus shifting to his cock, still spurting inside of you. 

“That was so much,” you murmur in astonishment, counting nearly five pumps of his sticky seed, releasing into your aching womb, “My poor baby, you’ve been so pent up huh?” 

Zayne is unable to speak, his still hardened cock twitching inside you with overstimulation and excitement. His mind numbing orgasm seems to have broken down all remaining barriers, his needy and desperate moans sounding right in your ear as you continue to bounce on him, wanting to reach your own climax.

“I’ve been so fucking pent up without you, thinking about you, about this,” he groans, “W-wait — love. I just came, I don’t think I can — haah — come again.” 

“Pleeease, I know you can,” you beg, your bounces slowing but not stopping, instead slamming down more languidly,  passionately, “Just one more, for me please.”

A few more thrusts is enough to have his eyes rolling back, lips parted, breath so hot it creates a small puff of mist, “Please, jesus please.” His cock throbs inside you, ready and begging to release again. He swears repeatedly, watching as you try to suck the absolute life out of him. 

A few more clenches of your heavenly cunt is enough to fire him back up, his cock throbbing angrily, harder than ever.  “Keep going, don’t stop,” he pleads, his words and wavering tone a complete stranger to him, “I need you. I need you to see you cum undone for me sweetheart.” 

“M’so close Zayne,” you cry in response to his filthy words, thighs threatening to give out. 

“Thank you, thank you — fuck!” Zayne swears, teeth digging into the small exposed area of your neck, “Cum, cum for me, please. Need to feel you.” 

With his lips against your sensitive pulse point, you thrust once, twice, a third time, before crashing back down and headfirst into your climax. Zayne’s strong arms keep you steady as you squirt all over him and his expensive overcoat. His cock thrashes, releasing again, another stream of unbelievably endless seed straight into your quivering abdomen. 

“I love you. I love you so much,” Zayne groans into your ear before shifting and guiding your mouth to his. The kiss is a desperate clash of intensity, the two of you fighting to convey the magnitude of the emotions you felt for one another, and especially in the absence of each other. 

When he pulls away, he breathes in your scent like it’s the air he needs to breathe, the smell of your arousal and pheromones clouding what little judgment he has left. 

“I love you, Y/N,” Zayne gasps out one last time, as if those words are important as his last breath. His arms hold you tight against him, not wanting this moment to end. 

Your bodies heave in unison, Zayne ghosting featherlight kisses along the deep angry bruise on your neck, eliciting an uncontrollable shiver from you. It’s rare for Zayne to lose control and leave marks on your skin from your activities. The idea of the hickey forming on your neck leaves you deeply satisfied and your spent cunt quivers in response, squeezing even more of Zayne’s thick and hot seed into you. 

He swears, teeth grazing against the purpling bruise along your neck, “Please. Have mercy on me.” 

You giggle breathlessly, trying to ease the tension of your pussy against him, “M’sorry Zayne. Are you okay?” 

He chuckles, nuzzling against the crook of your neck and admiring the beautiful mark he’d left on you. He has a slight stubble that rubs soothingly against your quaking nerves, making you practically purr against him, “What if I said no? What would you do then?” 

“I guess I would just have to keep making you feel good, wouldn’t I?” you tease in faux innocence, though the meaning of your words are not lost on anyone.

You feel Zayne’s smile against your shoulder, “You’d better be careful what you say, sweetheart. You’re playing a very dangerous game.” 

You shiver at his words, briefly reminiscing on just how many times you’ve lost at this game. How many times Zayne had you begging for reprieve, pussy red and swollen from too many orgasms to count, body folded whichever way he wanted you. Not that you could or wanted to complain. 

But you’re feeling feisty, not knowing when to quit while you’re ahead, “Really? I quite like the game where you’re crying and begging me for more.” 

Whoops. 

Zayne’s smirk isn’t the slightest bit embarrassed, but rather amused. Mischievous. 

He doesn’t speak, instead he takes your face into his hands again. This time, the frost has completely thawed, leaving just his chilly soft skin against your own. He brings you in, deceptively gently and slowly, lips pressing against yours with so much respect, adoration, and thirst. 

His tongue strokes against yours with such passion and need that you’re struck absolutely dumb. Somewhere in the back of your head you can vaguely feel the instinct to pull away to breathe, but you can’t bring yourself to separate from Zayne’s torrid kiss. A week’s worth of agonizing yearning in one kiss.

It’s so distractingly perfect and mind numbing that you don’t even notice the way he stirs back to full mast inside of you, your aching walls clenching, half in protest and half in anticipation. 

Zayne is the one to finally pull away, saying nothing but staring at you intently with his darkened hazel green irises, a string of saliva connecting your parted panting lips. His fingers gently cup your jaw still, but his other hand reaches up to carefully thumb at the corners of your eyes. It’s then you feel a vague dampness against your skin.

At your startled and, no doubt, confused expression Zayne chuckles warmly, “I thought you liked this game?”

His words bring you to the realization that tears were in fact streaming down your cheeks. From a single kiss. At your adorably furrowed brows, embarrassed expression conveying no amusement whatsoever, Zayne’s smirk deepens.

“No? I guess I’ll need to have you begging for you to enjoy this game, huh?” as if to punctuate his point, he shifts beneath you, thrusting his once again hardened member further inside you. You yelp at the feeling, clutching his shoulders for dear life. 

“Only joking, my love,” Zayne chuckles, ghosting a kiss along your jaw as he holds you firmly against his body. You sigh in relief as the sincerity behind his teases, pressing a kiss to his cheek gratefully. Your fingers snake up into his tousled raven hair, rubbing slow circles into his scalp, to which he groans in satisfaction, laying his head against your chest. You rest your own head atop his head, smiling into his hair as he nuzzles into you like a baby.

You wince when you feel his fingers just barely ghost over the injury on your arm, where his ice arrow had accidentally struck you. You still, hoping he doesn’t notice your brief discomfort.

But of course he does, his voice choking with anguish, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay Zayne! It’s really okay!” you reassure, desperately trying to get him to see that you’re perfectly alright, better than you’ve been in a week. “I’ve dealt with far worse.”

That was evidently not the right thing to say, as Zayne’s face visibly darkens, the scowl on his lips simultaneously endearing and terrifying. 

“We will discuss that more when I get you home,” Zayne grumbles, and despite his cloudy and stormy demeanor you cannot find him anything other than absolutely pouty and adorable. You knew without a doubt he’d be making you take all sorts of expensive medical tests after safely returning home. 

You think about how overbearing you know he will be after this, a smile playing on your lips at the thought of him fussing over you like a stoic mother hen. It would be annoying, but it was part of the reason you loved him so dearly.

“What are you laughing at?” Zayne questions, his eyebrows arched at your beautiful smile. 

“Nothing…I just missed you,” you mumble sheepishly, burying your face into the crook of his neck, resting against his solid body, his manhood still snugly nestled inside you. You could definitely get used to this.

He leans his head onto yours, lips brushing a kiss against your messy hair. His voice is muffled, vibrating against your scalp as he speaks, “I…”

His voice is thick with emotions, so you decide to wait silently for him to find the words, stroking his palm, encouraging him to take his time. 

“Thank you for coming.”

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