He sits up from his side of the bed instantly, looking at you with concern. You can see the gears turning in his brain, but he interrupts you before you can reassure him.

“Don’t move. Did you hurt your spine on a mission recently?” He’s already shifting, hair still messy from having just been asleep. But you wouldn’t be able to tell given the wide awake look on his face as he settles over you and begins to check you over.

“No I-I didn’t” You can feel the warmth of embarrassment in your ears as he fusses over a very obvious misunderstanding.

“Can you feel your legs? Can you feel this?” He’s tapping against your knee, glancing at your face to read for any signs of pain.

“Yeah I can feel that." You start to smile but your answer only worsens the frown on his face, clearly running through the worst possible scenarios.

“I’ll help you get dressed and we’ll go to the hospital. You need an X-ray. Maybe a CT to be safe.” He’s about to stand when you grab his wrist, trying not to laugh.

“No Zayne I-it’s not that. I think it’s just…last night.”

“Last night?” He echoes. You’re about to continue your explanation when he hesitates.

“I didn’t…I didn’t hurt you did I?” He moves back to bed, running his hands up your legs in a way that isn’t meant to turn you on, but does anyways.

“The opposite actually. I’m just kind of sore? I think I’m not used to your…size.”

“…I see.” His ears have gone red, and there’s a mix of concern and amusement on his face. You pull him closer until his nose brushes yours, running a hand through his hair to smooth the messy strands.

"She's six months old, Zayne, she doesn't know what myocardial ischemia is." You can't help but smile as Zayne flips open the cardiac textbook he had written to the chapter on Angioplasty.

"She likes it. It helps her sleep." The baby in question is nestled in his lap, blinking slowly but clearly no less entertained. Zayne didn't often get to put her to bed so you're sure she's enjoying the extra time with him. At least, as much as she can at this stage.

"The bottle we just gave her helps her sleep. You don't want to read her something...cuter?" You ask, trying not to get squeamish at the detailed diagram of a blocked artery.

He blinks up at you in surprise, as if he hadn’t even considered the idea. Of course, why would he?

However, you eat your words when he creeps out of the nursery not even five minutes later, baby monitor in hand.

“You got her down already? She usually takes at least ten minutes to fall asleep.” You check the monitor, almost unbelievably. But sure enough, she’s fast asleep in her crib. Zayne smiles ever so slightly, an arm snaking around your waist.

“Don’t you remember when you were pregnant and you kept having nightmares? The only thing that could get you to sleep was the sound of my voice. So I would talk about what I know best.”

"Can I do it?"

Zayne pauses, the shiny square packet in his hand already torn open. He's almost painfully hard, a bead of precum at his tip that makes your mouth water.

"You want...to put the condom on me?" He blinks in confusion, watching as you nod and pluck the packet out of his grip. With a sly smile, you take it out of the package and press it to his tip. Then, you lean down, your lips wrapping around him and moving forward.

He groans, his hand flying to your hair as your mouth rolls the latex down around his cock. You look up once you reach the base of him, holding him in your mouth. His head is tossed back, face flushed, and suddenly he's tugging you back.

You realize why once he's pulled you off, panting.

"...Did you cum?" You ask in surprise, though the evidence is quite literally in front of your face.

"You've never...done that before." He explains, almost embarrassed as he takes the now ruined condom off and throws it away.

"I was going to ask if you liked it but I guess I got my answer." You can't wipe the incredulous grin off your face, even as he shoots you an unamused look. He's rifling through the drawer as you lay back down, waiting for him. But after a few minutes of quiet shuffling and the bed getting colder, you prop yourself up on one arm.

"What's wrong?"

Out of all the depraved things Zayne has done, this might be the worst.

He had the purest of intentions at first. Really, after nearly two weeks of not seeing you, all he wanted was to see your smile. He had an album of pictures bookmarked, each with you in the frame. You hadn't noticed the camera in some of them. He liked to take candids of you, liked to admire how beautiful you are when you're just existing.

It's this one that makes him pause.

You're sitting at your vanity, focused on applying lip gloss. Your hair is a bit messy, and Zayne supposes he was probably to blame for that. You're wearing one of his shirts, though it's begun to slip off your shoulder. It's pathetic really, how the mere sight of your bare skin can ignite such an insatiable need in him. Even worse, you're not here, and you won't be for days. It's just Zayne, alone in his home office.

It's normal to masturbate. Healthy even. He tries to repeat that to himself as he takes his aching cock out of his pants. His grip on his phone is loose, but he manages to swipe to another picture. It's the same day, a few moments after the first image. But you're looking at the camera now, smiling over your shoulder. Your eyes are alight with amusement and just like that, he's a goner.

He pumps his cock, eyes half lidded as he stays glued to the screen. Not even an hour before that photo, you'd been underneath him in bed, moaning out as he fucked you from behind. He can almost feel the wetness of your pussy and the sweet way you'd whimpered his name and begged for more.

When he cums, it's messy. He hadn't done this in a while, and usually if he did, the shower spray would rinse away the evidence. But now it's just him, the smiling picture of you, and an odd sense of guilt.

If it's oky with you, can I ask you for a blurb/fic?

My idea is set early on in their relationship, Zayne drops his wallet or asks reader/MC to pick up something from his jacket's pocket and she finds a condom (they haven't done it yet)

"Zayne really, you don't have to!" You try to protest once more as he pulls his laptop closer, opening the website of the dress you'd been talking about.

"I thought you said you wanted it?" There's a tiny smile on his face, clearly satisfied with himself as he presses checkout.

"I didn't mean you have to buy it for me!" You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder. He pats his pockets, then frowns

"It seems I left my wallet on the counter, I'll just go get it." He moves to get up, but you push him back down and stand.

"If you're insisting on buying me such an expensive dress, the least I can do is get your wallet." He opens his mouth to protest, but no words escape when you shoot him a look.

His wallet sits on the countertop, the polished brown leather standing out. You'd gotten it for him for his birthday earlier this year. You were horribly nervous about coming on too strong for a crush, but it had gone over well, and now he uses it daily.

You flip it open as you walk back to the living room, smiling when you see the picture of yourself tucked into one of the pockets. You're about to pull out his credit card when a flash of gold catches your eye.

"What is this?" You ask Zayne, holding up the condom. The smile smile on his face disappears as his eyes widen. He adjusts the collar of his shirt, ears taking on a reddish hue.

"They're free at the hospital."

"Uh-huh. They're always free at the hospital. So...why do you have one in your wallet now?" You can't help but smile, slightly endeared. He sets his laptop aside before reaching forward and grasping your wrist. In one easy motion, he pulls you into his lap, lips just barely brushing yours.

He likes being on the receiving end of your disapproving glare, likes when you huff and cross your arms, showing off your irritation at him.

And of course, he loves to make you fold.

“Aw, what’s wrong cutie? I thought you were mad at me?” Your legs are tossed over his shoulders, though he presses forward until your thighs meet your chest. His hips piston into yours with such force the bed threatens to break underneath you.

“I-I am!” You manage to gasp out, though your eyes roll back at the end of it. He chuckles, still looking irritatingly perfect as he wrecks you.

“You are? So maybe I shouldn’t let you cum. Doesn’t seem like you deserve it.” His normally bright eyes are darkened with an almost sadistic amusement as the thumb on your clit slows into agonizing circles. You're right on the edge, exactly where he wants you.

“N-no no please Raf-please please let me cum!” Your eyes are wide, no longer narrowed in displeasure. God, he loves it when you beg. There's a real panic hidden in it, knowing from experience that he'll leave you trembling and desperate just to prove a point.

"Say you're sorry then, won't you?" It's a mean ask, one that would usually make you glare at him, asking in that frigid tone what you would be apologizing for.

It makes him even harder just picturing it.

"M'sorry! I'm sorry Raf please I-just please let me cum!" Tears form at the corners of your eyes as you pout up at him, completely and utterly desperate.

Zayne jolts, slightly startled from not hearing you walk into the bathroom. You probably shouldn’t have scared him with a razor so close to such a vital area, but in your defence, when he said he was going to shave, he hadn’t mentioned this.

“I’m shaving.” He says, the towel slung sinfully low on his hips.

“I can see that. I didn’t know you shaved…there.” You say, curiosity filling your tone. Of course, you were very familiar with the plane of his lower abs and the muscle of his v line. But usually when you were near it, you were a little preoccupied.

"Well I do." His ears have gone pink and his eyes no longer meet yours. An idea forms in your head, one that makes you giddy with joy.

"Oh my god, you do it for me." It's a statement, not a question. His jaw tightens in something akin to embarrassment, and you can't hold back a shocked laugh.

"That is...so sweet. But you don't have to do that!" You step closer now, curious to see the happy trail he'd always removed before you came over. Seeing the smattering of dark hair now, your mouth practically waters.

"I assumed-" He begins, but you're quick to cut him off.

"Don't you remember when I got that coupon for a free Brazilian wax?" You can still recall the way his brows had knit in confusion to see your pussy completely waxed. Of course, it had only been a millisecond before he adjusted and promptly made you cum on his tongue, but you remembered it all the same.

"...I do." He admits, ears even more red than before. You take the razor from him, setting it on the counter before reaching for the tie of his towel.

"What if...we didn't use a condom tonight?"

Zayne blinks, then frowns as every possible outcome begins to run through his stupid, perfect mind that never forgot a single lesson of sex ed.

"I know you're on birth control, but a second method of protection is recommended to prevent pregnancy. They also help protect against ST-" You cut him off before he can finish the word.

"Zayne. You and I have only ever slept with each other. We don't need to worry about STD's. Besides, don't you want to know what it feels like?" You relax back on the bed, letting him make the choice. He swallows, eyes roaming over your body.

You know Zayne is a very strong, disciplined person. He's perfectly capable of resisting most temptations that would make any weaker man fold. But there's two things he's never been able to say no to. Sweets being one, and of course,

You.

"...You're sure?" He asks one more time, licking his lips as he sets the condom on the nightstand. You sigh in amusement, smiling just a little.

"I'm sure. Now, will you please fuck me raw?"

Zayne usually always had some on him, the perks of working in a hospital with an endless supply of free condoms. But you figured the responsible girlfriend thing to do was to keep a box at your place, just in case. But maybe you hadn't thought that plan out entirely.

You almost feel a sense of kinship with men who've been sent to buy menstrual products, staring at an aisle of items you really don't know much about. So, you call the person you always call when you have a question.

"Hello?" Zayne's voice comes through after the first ring, because of course.

"What size is your dick?" You ask, thankful there's no one around to hear you.

"I'm sorry?" He sounds incredulous, though you know he heard you.

"Well, when you're hard. For the condoms. I'm kind of flying blind here. There's not exactly a size chart on these things." You inspect the back of a box just to be certain before putting it back. Cherry flavoured? Yuck.

"Oh. Well you'll have to grab a large. But it's not entirely necessary, I can pick up more at the hospital."

"If Yvonne sees you grabbing anymore condoms, she's gonna think we're sex addicts or something" It takes a minutes for the words to process, as you're busy scanning the boxes, trying to avoid things like "ribbed" and "glow in the dark."

"Wait...you're a large?" You hear him scoff almost incredulously.

"I'll try not to be offended by your surprise." He says, his tone flat as you laugh.

"Well, I'm just saying. Lucky me huh?" He sighs loudly, and you're sure he's pinching the bridge of his nose. Finally, you find a pack that looks good enough.

"Okay, these look good enough! Hopefully they fit you. If not, we'll probably have to do it raw." You say, relishing the choked noise you hear from the other side of the phone.

After one of the most brutal 48 hour shifts of his life, Zayne wants nothing more than to pass out in bed, preferably by your side. He's ravenous as well, but he doesn't think he even has the energy to boil water.

The second he steps into the house, he swears he could cry. There's a spread of food on the counter, still steaming. It's his favourite, an assortment of dumplings, honey and herb roasted chicken, garlic green beans, and fragrant fried rice.

"Oh! I didn't even hear you come in! I know, I know, I went a little overboard but we can always refrigerate the leftovers and Yvonne mentioned you'd probably be starving when you got home so-mhm!" He cuts you off by wrapping you in a bone crushing hug. To your credit, you don't complain, merely patting his back.

"Well, as much as I love this, you should really eat before it gets cold."

"I love you." He whispers against the crook of your neck, squeezing you once more for good measure. You laugh, squeezing him back.

"I love you too. Go sit down, alright? I'll make you a plate." He wants to protest. After all, he's perfectly capable of making his own plate, and you deserve to sit down after working in the kitchen for who knows how long. But his feet ache so bad from standing in the OR for 14 hours straight, that all he can do it hum and sink into one of the chairs at the dining table.

You load a plate with a bit of everything, setting it down in front of him. He waits for you to return with your plate, though it takes all of his willpower.

Of course, everything tastes perfect. He clears his plate so quickly you worry he'll choke. He's finally satiated after his third serving, though his ears perk up when you mention you'd made an oreo cheesecake as well.

It's only mid afternoon, so while he knew the baby was due for her nap, he had guessed to find you in the living room, or perhaps the kitchen. You always got lots done during naptime, though he tried to convince you to rest as well.

He checks the baby monitor on the kitchen counter out of instinct, and suddenly his questions have been answered.

You're asleep on your back, the napping baby sprawled on top of you. There's a peaceful expression on your face. You seem to sleep soundly with the comfort of your daughters weight on your chest. Something in Zayne's heart does a flip of pure, unadulterated joy.

Not wanting to disturb you, he begins to very silently tidy the living room of toys and books. He cleans the kitchen as well, snapping just a few pictures of the adorable scene displayed on the monitor.

It's only once he gets started on dinner do you start to stir, little whines of hunger coming from the lump on your chest. Zayne watches the video feed with a smile as you soothe her and begin to come downstairs.

You frown for a moment seeing the state of the living room that it certainly hadn't been in when you went upstairs. Zayne's heart skips a beat when you spot him, smiling at him like you always do. It skips again when the bundle in your arms spots him too, sticking out her arms for him. You cross the room, letting Zayne scoop her from your hold and kiss her face till she's giggling. He doesn't leave you out, kissing your cheek.

"Did you have a good nap?" He mumbles into your ear. You blink in surprise, then glance at the baby monitor and laugh.

"I did actually. Somebody was missing her dad too much to sleep. She finally settled down when I put on one of your shirts." You tickle her as you speak, the baby giggles making both of you melt.

You're so late.

The Association's fundraiser gala had started 5 minutes ago, and you were still putting on the finishing touches. It was your own fault really, wanting to try a new blush that had immediately messed up all of your makeup.

You'd been running behind since then. To his credit, Zayne isn't rushing you, sitting on the edge of the bed and going through his emails. But you know he's watching the time just like you are.

"Okay okay I'm almost ready." You call out as you secure your earrings, picking up your bottle of body oil and walking into the bedroom.

"There's no need to stress yourself out." Zayne says, sensing you need his help with something and standing up. You uncap the bottle and hold it out to him.

"Could you just get my back?" You turn around, giving him a proper view of the black, backless dress you'd chosen for the occasion. He's suspiciously quiet, and you wish you could turn around to see his reaction.

"I don't want to get the oil on your dress." He says as he he pumps some into his hand. You hum, pulling the straps down your arms and letting the top of the dress down.

"Is this better?" He's quiet once again, and this time you glance over your shoulder. His ears are a bright red, though he looks entirely unamused when he meets your gaze.

"What happened to not wanting to be late?" His voice is laced with desire as he begins to smooth the oil over your back, working it in.

"You said not to stress myself out. Isn't this a good way to destress?" He sighs heavily at your words and you have to hold back a laugh.

When he's done, you fix your dress and admire his handiwork in the mirror. You know he's watching you, which only makes you grin wider.

Zayne wasn't often very forward.

You see, he didn't like to push. It felt impolite to badger you about sex when you were so often pushing yourself to the physical max. Even after work, you found the energy to pick up groceries for the two of you. Of course, you had even gone out of your way to a different store just to pick up his favourite pizza.

So, it was only fair to reward you.

You're curled up on the couch, enraptured by the reality tv show you'd been rewatching. A bowl of shrimp sits in your lap, which you clearly are enjoying more than he could quantify. He offered to make you a balanced meal for dinner, but you'd shooed him off with something about "girl dinner" that had gone over his head.

When he sits next to you, your body angles towards him, curling up into his side. Zayne hums in satisfaction, though cuddling hadn't been his goal of the night. Your attention quickly shifts back to your show so he knows he should act fast.

His head dips into the crook of your neck, leaning in to brush his lips against the sensitive skin. You shiver at his touch, letting out a huff that sounds almost like a laugh. But still, you continue to chew happily on your shrimp.

"Would you like to go up to bed?" He whispers against the shell of your ear. He's aware of how desperate he sounds, how pathetically needy. Your eyes are wide in surprise, as if just now realizing what he'd been after with this show of affection.

"Oh! Sure babe. How about you go up and wait for me? I'll be there in a few minutes. Just let me finish my shrimp." You pop another one in your mouth, smiling sweetly.

He is grateful for you, for his parents and even for his colleagues. He is especially grateful for your daughter, in all her adorableness at 6 months old.

What he is not grateful for is how she seems to have inherited his insomnia.

The oven clock reads 3:32am. His beautiful bundle of joy is happily nestled in his arms, eyes wide and very much not asleep as she should be.

You’re totally going to kill him.

The two of you had been asleep when he had returned from the hospital hours ago. When she awoke for her nightly feeding, he’d coaxed you back to sleep as he scooped her up and taken her downstairs where her bottles were.

But that had been an hour ago. Despite eating and burping, his daughter simply refused to sleep.

She gurgles happily, as if sensing Zaynes thought. He can’t help but smile down at her despite the exhaustion deep within his bones. She has his eyes, amazingly. He hadn’t been able to believe it in the hospital but the green-golden hue has only grown clearer each day. She has your everything else, though you often deny it.

“Aren’t you tired? You’ll be so tired tomorrow if you don’t sleep now.” You always tease him about how he speaks to her, the babyish lilt in his usually stoic tone making you laugh without fail.

Somehow, the words seem to resonate with her. She settles down, resting her tiny head on his shoulder. Tears well in his eyes at the weight. She was so perfect, he almost couldn’t bear to put her down.

After much too long, he manages to part with her chubby body, not unlike his own as a baby, laying her carefully in the crib by the bed. When he’s sure she’s asleep, he slips in beside you.

“Is she asleep?” You mumble, barely coherent. He hums, patting your back as if you too are a baby.

"It's called No Nut November! I think the name is pretty intuitive." You tease, though the confused expression on his face doesn't fade. With a grin, you explain the challenge.

"So, you're proposing we go the entire month without having sex. And what is the purpose of this challenge?" He crosses his arms, not nearly as amused as you are.

“Well it’s just for fun! Aren’t you curious to see how long you can go without orgasming?”

“Why would I be curious about such a thing when I’m with you?” He steps closer to you, eyes beginning to darken. Still, you don’t let it go.

“You’re always testing your endurance aren’t you?” You smile extra sweetly as his chest nearly brushes yours, caging you against the kitchen counter.

“I suppose this would test your endurance as well…” A flicker of competitiveness flares in Zayne’s eyes, and you know you have him.

“Exactly! So, how about we make this interesting? If you can last longer than me, I’ll do anything you want for a whole day, but if I win…you do anything I want for a day.” It’s an intriguing proposal, one you know he’ll go for.

“Alright. Though I doubt this will be a struggle for either of us.” He smiles, though you note the slight tightness in his pants. Apparently just talking about sex was enough to get Zayne going. You’ll file that away for later.

“Oh totally. We’ll probably make it the whole month!”

Zayne had a bad day.

Everything had gone wrong. It rained during his run, he forgot to bring his lunch, and his favourite scrub nurse called out sick. By the time he manages to drag himself home, he's so tired he doesn't even have the energy to warm up the dinner you'd made for him.

"Hi Zaynie." You smile when you see him. You're curled up in bed, book in hand, the warm lamp light illuminating your face. A small part of him relaxes. No matter how bad a day he had, at least he got to come home to you.

He doesn't have the energy to respond just yet. You don't seem to mind as he undresses in silence, pulling on a pair of pyjama pants. He forgoes a shirt. Joining you in bed, he tugs you close to him. Your book lays forgotten on the nightstand as he settles on top of you.

You're so warm, even in the t-shirt and shorts you sleep in. He presses his face into the crook on your neck, the smell of your lotion easing his racing heart. But still, the contact isn't enough. His hands slip under your shirt and, though his intent was really only to hold your waist, you sit up to pull the fabric off.

It's exactly what he needs. He hugs you tightly, chin hooked over your shoulder as you gently pat his back. His chest is pressed against yours, the steady beating of your heart matching his. Your free hand is running through his hair and the feeling makes him shiver. Something about your touch energizes him in a way unlike anything he's ever felt. In just a few minutes, he finally finds it in himself to speak.