dolled up
“all dolled up just for me, my beautiful wife.”
zayne x fem!reader
⤿ part of snow angel series : )
⤿ cw: MDNI, p in v, thigh riding, cunnilingus, fingering, creampie, breeding kink, mirror sex, spanking, rough sex, sprinkle of brat tamer!zayne
⤿ word count: 5.2k
⤿ synopsis: zayne has been having a rough week due to multiple surgeries, meetings, and tons of paper works so one night, you decided to give him a little surprise : )
ao3
You were lounging in the living room, scrolling through your phone while the television murmured in the background. The house had been quiet the past few days since Hyacinth decided to join her grandparents—Zayne’s parents—on their four-day trip. A small smile tugged at your lips as her grandmother sent a photo of your five-year-old daughter beaming at the camera, cradling a tiny kitten in her arms. The caption read, “She wants to take the kitten home.”
You glanced at the calendar. They were due back in two days, and you couldn’t wait to hug her again and hear all about their little adventure.
You went through your other notifications, eyes scanning for your husband’s name. These past few weeks had been hectic for Zayne—back-to-back surgeries, endless meetings, and a mountain of paperwork waiting on his desk. The exhaustion was written all over his face, dark circles shadowing his eyes. You’d been gently urging him to take a day off, but being the workaholic he was, he always found a reason to decline. He insisted he couldn’t step away, not wanting to fall behind on his responsibilities.
You were about to take a nap when you heard the doorbell ring. You immediately sat up and padded toward the door. As you peeked through the peephole, you realized it was just a delivery. Opening the door, the delivery man gave you a polite nod and handed over an electronic pad for you to sign. You signed your name and thanked him, then took the medium-sized box into your hands. It wasn’t heavy, but it felt like something carefully packed. Closing the door behind you, you walked back into the living room and placed the box on the coffee table.
You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. When you checked the notification and saw it was from a clothing brand, your lips curled into a small smirk. Wasting no time, you grabbed a cutter to unbox the package that had just arrived. As you peeled back the flaps, a smile spread across your face—it was the lingerie set you’d ordered online. Without a second thought, you picked up the box and made your way to your shared bedroom, eager to try it on.
It was a pastel pink babydoll-style nightdress made from sheer, lightweight fabric.The bust area features embroidered floral lace with underwire support and satin ribbon detailing in the center. It made your cleavage pop due to its padding. Thin double shoulder straps add a dainty touch, and the skirt flows gently down about a few inches from your intimate area, ending in layered ruffled hems for a soft, romantic look. It also came with a laced pink thong that goes well with the lingerie, as well as an accessory which is a pearl choker and a simple necklace with a small pendant.
And of course, being the little tease you are, you couldn’t resist. After slipping into the delicate lingerie, you sat on the edge of the bed, angled your phone just right, and snapped a mirror selfie. With a sly smile, you sent it to Zayne—who was still at work—along with a message that read: “When are you coming home? I miss you...”
It hadn’t even been five minutes when his reply came through.
“Sweetheart, you look gorgeous. However, I’m in the middle of an important meeting right now.”
You bit your lip, amusement dancing in your eyes. Switching to the front camera, you adjusted the angle and took another photo—this time showing only from your chest down to your thighs, the sheer fabric leaving little to the imagination. With a light tap, you sent it off.
Not long after, another message lit up your screen.
“I’ll be home in ten minutes.”
You couldn’t help but laugh softly, setting your phone down as you settled back on the bed. Mission accomplished.
***
You heard your front door and that signaled that Zayne is already home. With a soft giggle, you stepped out of your shared bedroom then went downstairs to greet him.
“Hello, my love—“ He was suddenly taken aback and his coat dropped to the floor when he saw you standing before him, wearing the lingerie you bought. He cleared his throat before speaking. “Aren’t you cold?”
“Hm? Why would I be? I feel perfectly fine..” You answered before placing a peck on his lips, “Welcome home.”
You caught the faint flush creeping up his neck, his ears turning a telltale shade of red as his eyes roamed over your figure. His gaze faltered, locking onto the curve of your hips—specifically, the absence of that laced thong you’d been teasing him with earlier. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, trying (and failing) to keep his expression neutral.
You bit your lip, barely containing a giggle at the way his composure unraveled.
“Hungry?” you asked, your voice low and teasing, the double meaning lingering in the air.
He gave a slow, slightly dazed nod.
You reached out and laced your fingers with his, giving his hand a gentle tug. “Come on, then.”
Guiding him to the kitchen, you revealed the small dinner setup you’d prepared—candles flickering, plates warm, and everything in place. The contrast between the tension in the air and the peaceful domesticity made it all the more intimate.
You both sat down to eat, the silence between you charged but comfortable, like a storm waiting just past the horizon.
As you finished, the two of you did your usual routine— wiping the table, washing the dishes, placing the leftovers inside the fridge.. However, the way his eyes flicker to you, the clenching and unclenching of his hand, his reddened ears, and deep breaths doesn’t go unnoticed by you.
Currently, the both of you are enjoying ice cream for dessert, the quiet clink of spoons filling the cozy air between you. The soft lighting casts a gentle glow, making everything feel just a little more intimate.
You glance at him, a small smile playing on your lips as you tilt your head.
“So, how are you, my love?”
He looks up from his bowl, his expression calm, almost unreadable. He gives a small shrug, stirring the ice cream around absently.
“Same old,” he replies casually. “Had three surgeries, two meetings and finished the paperworks that was sitting at my desk for days. How about you?”
He scoops another spoonful without looking at you, but there’s the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth—like he’s trying not to let on too much.
“It was fine, just missing our little girl. Your mother sent a picture earlier, Hyacinth is cradling a tiny kitten in her arms and she wants to take it home with her..” A quiet laugh slips from your lips, fond and wistful, as you glance at him.
“I have no objections to that,” he said smoothly—but just then, you noticed a small smear of ice cream at the corner of his lips. Instead of reaching out to wipe it away, you leaned in slowly, eyes locked on his, the air thick with unspoken tension. Your lips brushed the corner of his mouth as you licked the bit of ice cream off, lingering just a second longer than necessary.
When you pulled back, a playful smile tugged at your lips.
“You missed a spot,” you whispered.
His eyes darkened slightly, jaw tightening just a fraction as he stared at you, that neutral composure starting to crack.
“[Name].. Love..” He muttered, gaze locking into yours. “What?” you respond, a small smile curling on your lips.
“You’re being such a tease..”
“I am not…” you denied with mock innocence as you hopped off the stool, deliberately swaying your hips on the way to the fridge. Bending down slowly, you opened it with an exaggerated hum. “Hmm, what should we—ah!”
You yelped softly as a sudden, firm smack landed on your ass. Glancing over your shoulder with a smirk, you found him standing behind you, eyes dark with intent.
“Oh?” you teased, scooting your bare ass back until it pressed against the hard outline of his clothed crotch. You gave the slightest roll of your hips, just enough to feel the sharp breath he drew in behind you.
Before you could even process his next move, strong arms wrapped around your waist, and in one smooth motion, he hoisted you over his shoulder.
“Hey—!” you started, laughing, but his voice cut through, low and full of heat.
“I’ve had enough of this teasing, my love…” he growled as he began striding purposefully toward the stairs. “Let’s see if you can hold onto that attitude of yours.”
You gasped, heart pounding with anticipation, the fridge long forgotten as he carried you up to your shared bedroom like a man on a mission.
As you both enter your room, he strides towards your bed before gently tossing you to lie down, the mattress dipping beneath you as he looms over, eyes dark with intent. You used your arms to anchor yourself as you stared at him..
“Hm??” You teased, brow raising at him as hig gaze trails from your face, to your chest, and down to your exposed cunt. Then you felt his fingers teasing your folds which caused you to whimper..
“Z-Zayne..” you whimpered as he began to massage your wet folds..
“Yes, my love? Wouldn’t want your effort to go to waste, hm?” He whispered as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “My wife waited for me to come home dressed like this, all dolled up just for me. I am a lucky man.” He muttered before his lips met yours, melting in a passionate kiss.
His lips moved against yours with slow, deliberate tenderness, savoring every second like he’d been starved of your touch. Then, you felt him insert his finger inside your pussy which made you moan, he used it to deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips to taste you fully—hungry, aching, possessive.
A soft moan escaped as he pressed closer, his body flush with yours, the weight of him grounding you in the moment. He pulled back just slightly, his lips brushing over yours as he whispered, “You have no idea what it does to me, seeing you like this… knowing you’re mine.” he whispered as his kisses trailed down your neck, nibbling on your sensitive skin. Hard enough to the point he’s certain that it’ll leave a mark.
Then he pulled back slightly, taking in the sight of you— face flushed with lust and desire, lips kiss-swollen and parted, chest rising and falling with every shallow breath. His eyes roamed over you, dark and hungry, as if trying to commit every detail to memory.
“God, look at you,” he murmured, almost to himself. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, admiring the way it trembled beneath his touch. “So beautiful… and all mine.”
“Z-Zayne— ahh!” You arched your back as you felt him fasten the thrusts of his fingers in your wet heat, back arching as you gripped the sheets.
“That’s it, say my name.. My love..” He mumbled as his kisses went down your pussy, “Let me have a taste of you, wife.” He whispered before he used his tongue to lick your slit. His fingers still pumping in your pussy, while his other hand is gripping your hips to keep it from moving.
“Mmphh!” You moaned as he continued to flick his tongue against you, his fingers curling inside as he kissed and lapped on your sensitive flesh. Then, you felt the tension building in your core and you’re sure that he feels it— the way your legs tremble and pussy clenched around his digits.
However, it seems like he has other plans because just as you were about to come, he suddenly retracted his fingers and lips from your pussy, leaving it soaking wet and hole gaping.
“Zayne?!” you exclaimed, chest heaving and your pussy aching from your denied orgasm.
“What?” he said with a soft chuckle, his eyes never leaving yours as his fingers worked slowly down the buttons of his polo. The fabric parted to reveal the firm lines of his chest, and your breath caught just a little at the sight.
Once the shirt was off, he moved to sit at the edge of the bed, his posture relaxed but eyes burning with intent. He patted his thigh, gaze smoldering. “Come here,” he murmured, voice low and coaxing. “Right where you belong.”
You moved toward him, each step feeling heavier with anticipation. The moment you settled onto his lap, his hands immediately found your hips, pulling you flush against him. The heat between your bodies was undeniable, electric.
He let out a quiet, satisfied sigh as his hands slid up your sides, fingers brushing the fabric clinging to your skin. “There we go,” he whispered against your neck, placing a slow, open-mouthed kiss just below your ear. “You feel so good… so warm.”
One hand cradled the small of your back, holding you close, while the other traced slow circles along your thigh. “I could stay like this forever,” he murmured, lips trailing soft kisses along your jaw. “But you’re making it very hard to be patient.”
“Zayne.. please—“ you pleaded as he trailed wet kisses on your neck.
“Please what? Use your words sweetheart..” He replied, his hands traveling down your thigh then to your ass, cupping it gently. “Do you want to come, sweetheart?” He asked in which you nodded in response.
“Only good girls deserve to come, do you think you’ve been good? Hm?”
“Y-Yes, please, my love—ah!” You yelped as his hand came down on your ass with a sharp, unexpected smack. The sound echoed in the room, followed by a rush of heat blooming beneath your skin.
“Wrong answer.” He hand lingered, soothing the sting with a gentle caress before gripping you firmly, possessively. “Do good girls send suggestive pictures of themselves? Because I don’t think so, good girls earn a reward and what happened to bratty ones, like you?”
“Mm… Sorry—ah!” you gasped as his hand connected with your ass once more, the sharp sting making your hips jolt against him. The second smack left your skin tingling, heat flaring both where he touched and deep in your core.
He grinned against your neck, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You’re not sorry,” he growled playfully, his voice thick with arousal. “You like it when I make you squirm. Since you wanted to come so bad, work for it.” He said as he guided your hips to grind on his clothed thigh, his hand finding its way to massage your clit while the other was cupping your breasts. Then he tugged the lingerie down, exposing your bare chest before leaning in to suck on your sensitive bud.
You clung to his shoulder for support, grinding desperately against his thigh. Your head fell back, a moan escaping you as the friction of your bare cunt dragging over the rough fabric of his pants sent lightning through your nerves. Every roll of your hips made your legs tremble, but you couldn’t stop—even if you wanted to.
He watched you, eyes dark with hunger, letting you use him, letting you fall apart. His fingers, which had been expertly circling your clit just moments before, suddenly withdrew. You whimpered at the loss, your hips stuttering, needing that contact again—but he had other plans.
His hand slid upward with deliberate slowness, trailing over your stomach, grazing your ribs, before finally cupping your breasts—firm, possessive. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, coaxing them into tight peaks. Then he leaned in close, lips brushing your ear.
“Touch yourself,” he growled, low and commanding.
Before you could even think to hesitate, his mouth closed around one aching nipple, tongue teasing, teeth grazing just enough to make your back arch. His free hand kneaded your other breast, palm warm, fingers rough with need as they rolled and tugged your nipple between them. You gasped, body torn between the heat building in your core and the overwhelming pleasure of his mouth on you.
You slid a shaky hand down between your thighs, fingers slipping over your soaked folds. The contrast of your own touch, slick and hot, while his tongue dragged over your skin, made you cry out. You rubbed small circles against your clit, pressure building again too fast, too strong.
"Good girl," he murmured against your breast, voice vibrating through your chest. "Don’t stop. I want to feel you fall apart on me."
“Z-Zayne... Mm, near…” you moaned, the words trembling from your lips, barely coherent through the haze of pleasure flooding your body.
He growled low in his throat at the sound of his name like that—half-whimpered, soaked in desperation. His teeth grazed your nipple, then he sucked hard, sending another jolt straight to your core. His hand tightened on your breast as he glanced up at you, eyes heavy with lust and control.
“Then come for me,” he rasped against your skin, voice thick and raw. “Don’t hold back—I want to feel it. Want to see you fall apart on me.”
His thigh tensed beneath you, giving you more pressure, and your fingers moved faster on your clit, chasing the wave that threatened to break. Every breath you took was laced with fire. The world narrowed down to him—his mouth, his voice, the way his body held you like he’d never let go.
Your moans pitched higher, body trembling as your climax surged, sharp and overwhelming. Your hips jerked against his thigh as the pleasure crested, stars exploding behind your eyes.
“Zayne—!” you cried out as you came, body locking up, then shuddering hard against him.
He didn’t let up. He kept his mouth on you, kept his hand steady, drawing out every pulse of your orgasm until you were a boneless mess in his arms, chest heaving, fingers still twitching where they’d been between your thighs. Then he pulled back just enough to look at you—flushed, wrecked, glowing with satisfaction. A slow, wicked smile curved his lips.
“Beautiful,” he murmured. “You should see yourself when you come for me.”
Then he lifted you with ease, strong arms wrapping around your waist as if you weighed nothing, and laid you back onto the bed with a gentleness that contrasted the heat still crackling in the air. The sheets felt cool against your overheated skin, but your eyes stayed locked on him, hungry, dazed.
He stood at the edge of the bed, gaze dragging over your body like a promise, dark and slow.
Without a word, he began to undress.
First, he discarded his unbuttoned polo. The fabric hit the floor somewhere behind him, forgotten. Your breath caught at the sight of him—broad chest, toned muscles, skin flushed with desire. Your thighs pressed together instinctively. Next came the belt. The soft click of the buckle sent another rush of heat through you. His fingers worked with calm precision, sliding it free, letting it hang from one hand for just a second too long—like he wanted you to imagine what else it could be used for.
Then he dropped it.
You watched as he unbuttoned his pants, the zipper dragging down with a low rasp. He let them fall, the fabric pooling around his feet. He stepped out of them, slow and deliberate, eyes never leaving yours. Now, all that remained between you and him was the tight press of his briefs—already tented with the unmistakable outline of his cock. Your mouth went dry.
His smirk deepened as he caught your stare. “Like what you see?” he asked, voice low, teasing.
But you could only nod, breathless, already aching for more.
He wrapped his hand around his cock, giving it a few slow, deliberate strokes. His eyes never left yours, watching your every reaction—the way your chest rose and fell, the way your thighs shifted, needy and slick with anticipation.
The sight of you spread out beneath him, still trembling from your last orgasm, clearly drove him wild. Then, with the grace of a predator, he crawled onto the bed—each movement controlled, powerful. The mattress dipped under his weight as he moved closer, until he was hovering above you, arms braced on either side of your head.
His cock rested against your stomach, hot and heavy, pulsing with need. You could feel the heat of him, the sheer size of him, and it made your mouth go dry all over again. He leaned down, lips brushing your jaw, then your neck, trailing kisses that made your skin burn.
"You’re so wet for me," he murmured against your throat, voice thick with praise and hunger. "You ready for more?"
His hips rolled ever so slightly, letting his length drag along your slick folds, teasing your entrance without giving in just yet. The sensation pulled a needy whimper from you, your hands gripping his arms, nails digging in.
"Say it," he whispered, mouth ghosting over your lips. "Tell me what you want."
“You… I need you, Zayne,” you breathed, voice barely more than a whisper as your hands rose to cup his cheeks, fingers trembling slightly with need.
He leaned into your touch, his eyes softening just for a moment, grounding you in the middle of all that burning heat. He turned his head and pressed a tender kiss to the center of your palm, as if anchoring himself there—before his gaze darkened once more.Then, without another word, he shifted his hips and thrust into you in one smooth, deep stroke.
You gasped—your back arching as he filled you completely, the stretch making your whole body shudder. He slid in with effortless ease, your slick heat welcoming him, clenching around him like your body already knew exactly who he was meant to belong to.
“Fuck,” he groaned, voice low and ragged, forehead resting briefly against yours as he held still inside you, letting you feel every thick inch of him.
The air between you buzzed with heat, your breaths mingling, your bodies already molding together like puzzle pieces that had finally locked into place.
“You feel like heaven,” he murmured against your lips, his voice reverent. “So tight… so perfect.”
You could only moan in response, your legs wrapping around his waist, urging him closer, deeper—already desperate for more. And then he began to move.
He didn’t ease into it.
Once he had you stretched around him, gasping and shaking beneath him, he pulled back—just enough to make you feel the loss—then slammed back in with a force that made the headboard rattle against the wall.
You cried out, nails digging into his shoulders, but he didn’t slow down. His pace was relentless, each thrust hard and deep, driving the breath from your lungs. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixed with the wet, obscene sounds of your body welcoming him again and again.
“God—Zayne!” you gasped, legs tightening around him. Every time he bottomed out, you swore you saw stars. The way he filled you, stretched you, claimed you—it was almost too much.
But you didn’t want him to stop. You wanted more.
He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand, his grip firm, dominant. His other hand slid between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and circling it with quick, rough precision.
“You wanted this?” he growled into your ear, voice dark and wicked. “Then take it. Take every fucking inch.” Your back arched off the bed, body twitching under the dual assault of his cock pounding into you and his fingers working you to the edge all over again.
“Such a good girl,” he snarled, voice breaking with lust. “So wet, so fucking tight. You were made for this—made for me.”
You were unraveling fast, the pleasure coming in crashing waves. Your walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper, tighter.
“Come for me,” he demanded, thrusts growing faster, rougher, slamming into your sweet spot over and over. “Let me feel you fall apart.”
And with one more stroke—just right, just perfect—you shattered, your orgasm ripping through you like a storm. You screamed his name, body convulsing under him, toes curling, thighs shaking.
But he didn’t stop. He kept going—riding you through your high, chasing his own. His rhythm grew messy, desperate, and then with a strangled groan, he thrust one final time, deep and hard, before spilling inside you, his whole body trembling above yours.
Even as his body trembled, even with his release still pulsing inside you, he stayed hard—still hungry. He growled low against your throat, teeth grazing your skin as he pulled out slowly, leaving you slick and aching.
“Not done with you,” he muttered, voice thick, breath hot against your ear. “Get on all fours.”
Your body obeyed before your mind caught up—already sensitive, already spent, but somehow still needing more. You turned over, chest pressed to the sheets, ass lifted for him, trembling slightly as the cool air hit your slick heat.
Then he grabbed your hips, dragging you back until you were perfectly positioned—back arched, legs spread, completely exposed. But it wasn’t until he reached forward and tilted your chin toward the side that you realized what he wanted.
Your eyes met your reflection in the mirror across the room.
You looked wrecked—flushed cheeks, swollen lips, bite marks blooming on your neck and collarbone. Your hair was wild, sweat-slicked skin glowing, thighs streaked with your combined release. You barely recognized the desperate, cockdrunk expression staring back at you.
And it only made the heat between your legs flare up all over again.
“Look at yourself,” Zayne growled from behind you, lining himself up once more. “Look at how fucked out you are—and I’m still not finished.”
Then he slammed back into you.
You cried out, eyes flying wide at the sight of him driving into you from behind—his hips snapping against your ass, cock filling you just as deep, just as hard as before. The mirror gave you everything—his expression twisted in lust, the way your body took him like it was made for this, the obscene wet sounds of him thrusting into your still-dripping cunt.
His hands gripped your hips bruisingly tight as he pounded into you, relentless, unmerciful. Your arms gave out, collapsing you to your elbows, but you couldn’t look away from the mirror—you watched yourself come undone all over again, watched him ruin you.
“This is what you wanted right? Dressing all dolled up for me. You knew exactly what you were doing. Teasing me. Tempting me. Acting like you were so innocent.” Smack! “You’re acting like this on purpose,” he growled, voice gravel and heat as he slammed into you again, making your knees slide forward on the sheets.” Smack! “Just so I’d punish you, isn’t that right?” Smack!
You cried out, nails clawing at the bedding, body trembling as he fucked you with brutal, punishing thrusts. Your cheek pressed against the mattress, mouth open and panting—but you couldn’t speak. You didn’t need to. Your body answered for you.
He reached down and yanked your hair back, forcing your head up—forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror again. Your eyes were glassy, your mouth swollen, tears streaking your cheeks, and your cunt was stretched wide around him, dripping and ruined.
He slammed into you again—hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs.
“You wanted this,” he growled. “You wanted to be bent over and fucked until you couldn’t think. That’s what you really want, isn’t it? To feel me cum so deep inside you it sticks.”
“Yes—fuck, yes,” you cried out, the words spilling out broken and raw as another orgasm coiled tight in your core, overwhelming and impossible to fight. He released your hair and grabbed both your hips, dragging you back onto him with a bruising grip as he pounded into you mercilessly.
“Touch yourself,” he ordered through gritted teeth, voice sharp with dominance.
Your hand slid beneath you, fingers finding your clit and circling fast, desperate, as the pressure started building again—faster this time, messier, your entire body already primed to snap.
“That's it,” he hissed. “Fuck yourself on my cock. Watch yourself fall apart.”
And you did.
You moaned his name, loud and broken, as another orgasm ripped through you, your body clenching around him so hard it made him curse. You trembled violently, gasping, eyes locked on your reflection—completely gone, completely his.
He fucked you through it with savage thrusts until he was right there again—grunting, swearing, then jerking inside you as he came again, spilling deep, hips grinding against your ass as if trying to get even deeper.
Then, you felt him relax, his breaths slowing, and the tension in his body eased. He pressed gentle, lingering kisses to your shoulders, as if grounding himself in the moment, in the connection between you two.
“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice tender, a contrast to the roughness that had just passed between you. His hand, warm and steady, moved to guide you closer, helping you adjust as he slowly slid himself out of you.
You could barely form words as you leaned into his chest, your body still trembling from the intensity. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, both of you finding comfort in the warmth of each other. The soft rhythm of his breath in your ear was grounding, making everything feel calmer, safer. He brushed a few strands of hair away from your face as he cupped your cheeks, his touch gentle, almost reverent.
“Was I too rough on you?” he asked, concern clearly etched across his face. His brows furrowed slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.
You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his tenderness, the way he cared for you so deeply, so intently. With a soft smile, you shook your head slightly, your fingers lightly resting on his hand where it cupped your cheek.
“No, I’m alright, my love,” you murmured, your voice soft and reassuring, the words a quiet promise.
He exhaled deeply, his lips pressing softly against your forehead in a kiss full of affection. You could feel the relief in his touch, the weight of his concern lifting as he held you even closer, just letting the silence settle around you both.
"I love you..." he mumbled, his voice warm and tender as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, holding you close against him. His arms wrapped around you like a protective shield, his heartbeat steady and comforting.
"Let’s just stay like this for a while, okay?" His words were soft, filled with a quiet yearning for peace, as if he didn’t want to let go of this moment.
"I love you too," you whispered back, your voice barely above a breath as you snuggled closer, your body melting into his. The words felt like an affirmation, a bond that only grew stronger with every passing second. You felt safe, cared for, and utterly at peace in his arms.
dividers by: @uzzmachiato @anitalenia
