#greyson fluff

[beneathashadytree]

AFTER THE FIRST KISS - GREYSON X OC

Warnings : none that I know of!

Genre : tooth-rotting fluff <3

Additional notes : I’ve only just realized that amidst all my COVID issues, I’d forgotten to post this absolutely heartwarming SMAU @dawnbreakersgaze commissioned from me!! Expect another one to be posted within a day, because our resident cute doctor makes me feel things😵‍💫 EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU KAY FOR THEIR SWEET REQUEST THAT GOT MY BRAIN JUICES GOING!!🙏🏽

Commissions are open here!

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[smutinlove]

prince dick grayson x knight reader that doesn't like him that much??

u can make it fluffy smutty angsty wtv 🙏

implied fem reader

sort of forbidden love??????

angsty af

i was kinda listening to a sad playlist i made...

Prince Dick was known for his scandalous activities. But those "rumors" were almost always shut down by his majesty, King Bruce.

I mean, Prince Dick was the first in line to the throne, so he had to uphold his reputation. But that didn't stop him from flirting and fucking with every maid in the palace.

You, one of the trusted knights in Gotham, were assigned to guard and shield Prince Dick. But sometimes, it felt as if you didn't really do anything.

Dick was... Dick. Currently, he's fooling around with one of the maids of the palace. You could hear her moaning. The sounds of skin slapping and Dick's voice, telling her how much of a "good girl" she was.

Honestly, it was repulsive. This was the future king of Gotham.

A few minutes later, the door creaked open, and the maid ran out. Her cheeks were puffy and red. Dick leaned against the doorframe; his bedsheets were wrapped around his hips, but that didn't cover his boner.

"What'd I do?" Dick asked, tilting his head, causing you to snicker. "Well, your Royal Highness, maybe you should be less... Dickish."

"Come on, love, you love Dickish." You rolled your eyes. "Don't call me that, Dick."

He snickered. "Original. Hey, you know what?"

"What?"

"I have a perfectly empty bed, you know." You rolled your eyes. Prince Dick was always trying to get into your pants, either with his flirtatious comments or his wandering looks.

"Dick, stop," you muttered. "Why?" he said, looking up at you with the saddest expression. "Goodnight, your royal highness." Dick nodded, taking the hint. He retreated back into his room.

The sun rose, waking up the entire kingdom, including his royal highness, Prince Dick. You stood guard the entire night; it was part of the job, right?

The door creaked open, revealing Dick. There were bags under his eyes, and his cheeks were red and puffy. Your cold demeanor melted before it froze back over. "Are you alright, your royal highness?" you asked.

"What? Yeah, of course," he replied with a smile before quickly walking away.

Strange. Could it have been about last night? But you didn't care, right? You were his knight. And he was going to be king. And you sort of loathed him.

He was bratty, annoying, stupid, and a heartbreaker. You did not need that.

You watched as Prince Dick flirted with the neighboring princess, Princess Barbara. You were five feet behind Prince Dick, occasionally listening to his conversation with the princess whenever she laughed a little too loud.

Prince Dick led her to the fountain and gave her a kiss on the cheek; it wasn't incriminating, of course. But it was living up to his reputation of being an A-grade asshole and a flirt.

You looked away as the two continued flirting. You were not jealous, right? I mean, you were just a knight. You had no business being jealous.

You watched over Prince Dick every day. He was your responsibility. You had to follow him everywhere. You watched him flirt with countless men and women. You'd watched his breakdowns and his moments of triumph.

You had seen it all. But you felt empty every time. You were supposed to feel only one thing about him, and that was the need to protect him. That was it. But how have you changed over the past few years? He was becoming king soon. After that, he could get rid of you as he pleased.

You were a few feet behind him, watching as he entered his room before you took your place. You stood outside his door, guarding and protecting him from any possible harm.

Your eyes fell down to the doorknob. You wanted and needed to do so. An exchange of words wouldn't hurt, right?

Your hand fell to the doorknob, gripping it tightly. Your brain needed it to be locked, but your heart longed for it to be open.

Your cold demeanor melted as you twisted the doorknob, opening the door slowly. "What?" Dick called out, hearing the door creak open. "Hey," he said, turning around at the sound of your voice. "Oh, hey. Do you need something? I... did something happen?" he asked.

You smiled and shut the door, venturing further into his room. He tilted his head. "What's wrong?" he asked. You wrapped your arms around his neck, "This."

You leaned in and gave him a gentle kiss. Surprisingly, he kissed back. You quickly pulled away as you felt his hands slide down to your waist. "You and me... we can't happen, okay?"

"Why?" he asked obliviously. "I'm not a princess. I have no real title. And the kingdom would not approve, okay?" You replied, tears brimming your eyes.

"No, we can make this work, okay?" Dick tried reassuring you, but how? You were just a knight. It would never work.

"I do not wanna be your sidechick, Dick!" You yelled, tears falling down your eyes. "You're breaking my heart, love." His hand cupped your cheek.

You slapped it away. "We—we would be unhappy together! We would fight all the time and we would loathe each other, okay? Why can't you understand that?" Tears fell down your cheeks.

"Please, we can make this work, I promise," he whispered.

"No, Dick, we can't. We are too different." You gave him a soft kiss on his cheek and left.

You had nothing with Prince Dick Grayson. You were simply his protector.

CAN YOU TELL I LOVE ANGST??? OMG ANGST IS ANGSTING RN AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA OMG

CAN YOU TELL I WAS LISTENING TO "YOU'RE LOSING ME?" YES? WELL, FUCK ANYWAY

[soulofapatrick]

A Night To Remember - Greyson Hawthorne x reader

Summary: Greyson and you dance at Jameson and Avery's wedding

Words: 2k

Warnings: none

Notes: Requested by @blocked-zombieartist - sorry it took so long to get writing!

Y/N’s POV

I sit in the elegant ballroom of the Hawthorne Mason, the soft strains of music filling the air as Jameson and Avery take the centre of the dance floor for their first dance as husband and wife. The room is awash in a warm, golden glow, casting an almost magical aura over the entire scene. It’s a fairytale setting for a love that has endured countless trails. 

Avery’s gown shimmers like moonlight on the water as she moves gracefully in Jameson’s arms. Her laughter fills the room, pure and infectious, and it’s as if all the stars have aligned to make this night perfect. I can’t help but sigh contentedly, overwhelmed by the beauty of the moment. 

Just when I think the moment couldn’t get any more perfect, a familiar presence by my side catches my attention. Greyson Hawthorne, the enigmatic and elusive member of the Hawthorne family, settles into the seat next to mine. His presence has a way of commanding my attention, even in a room full of distinguished guests. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Greyson’s voice is soft, his gaze fixed on the dance floor. 

I turn my head to look at him, and the corners of my lips curl into a small smile, “Absolutely, they look so happy.” 

There’s a sadness to my voice that even I hear and I know Greyson hears it as he shifts in his seat, as if offering me his shoulder to lean on and I do just that. His shoulder is a solid, reassuring pressure as I lay my head against it. The gesture a testament to the bond that has grown between us, one that transcends the complexities of the Hawthorne inheritance. 

His suit, impeccably tailored, emits a faint whiff of cedarwood and leather, a scent that has become oddly comforting to me. His hand, strong and warm, finds its place in mine on my lap as if it belongs there. 

As Jameson and Avery sway to the gentle rhythm of the music, Greyson and I share a moment of quiet companionship. There’s something comforting in the silence between us, an unspoken understanding that we’re both witnesses to a love story that defies the odds. I catch the subside tightening of his jaw, the flicker of emotions in his eyes, though he remains reserved. I steal a longer glance at Greyson’s profile his expression inscrutable as ever. There’s a mystery that surrounds him, one I’ve been drawn to from the moment I stopped into this whirlwind of intrigue and fortune. But in this moment, as we watch two of my dearest friends celebrate this love, I find solace in the simplicity of the present. 

The song begins to wind down, and Jameson and Avery’s first dance comes to a graceful conclusion. There room bursts into applause, and the couple shares a tender kiss. I can’t help but wipe away a tear, moved by the depth of their love and the beauty of their union. 

As if on cue, Jameson and Avery call the guests up to join them on the dance floor. I hesitate, content to watch the festivities unfold from my vantage point next to Greyson. But he has other plans. Greyson gently squeezes my hand, his touch firm and reassuring, and reassuring, and he stands up. 

“Come on Mouse,” He says, his voice carrying a hint of a soft smile, “It’s time to celebrate with them.” 

I try to protest, knowing that I’m not much of a dancer and feeling a bit of self-conscious. But Greyson is persistent, and with a mix of charm and determination, he guides me to my feet. 

Reluctantly, I follow him to the dance floor, my heart racing with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. As the music starts up again, Greyson’s hand finds its place on the small of my back, and together, we sway to the rhythm. His touch is both grounding and electrifying, and I can’t help but feel a growing connection between us. 

The other guests join in, and the dance floor becomes a whirlwind of joy and celebration. The world outside fades away, leaving only the music, the laughter, and the warmth of Greyson's presence. In that moment, the enigmatic Hawthorne heir and I are simply two people celebrating the love of our friends, losing ourselves in the beauty of the present. The dance floor comes alive with the energy of the other guests, and the music pulses through our veins. The world outside fades away, and for now, it’s just the music, the laughter, and the warms of Greyson’s presence. 

Greyson's hand, warm and sure, exerts a gentle pressure on the small of my back, sending an electric thrill coursing through my body. Our movements on the dance floor remain perfectly synchronised, but it's the intensity of his gaze that holds me captive. Those enigmatic eyes, which I've found so elusive in the past, now gleam with a newfound playfulness. His lips curl into a sly smile, revealing a side of him I've rarely seen

“You know, “ He says, his voice low and intimate, “I’ve been waiting for a dance with you all evening.” 

His words, spoken in a low and intimate tone, hang in the air like a tantalising promise. My heart flutters, and I find myself breathless and lost for words. It’s as though the rest of the world has faded into the background, leaving only Greyson and me in our private cocoon of attraction and desire. 

As As Greyson's voice continues to envelop me like a velvety caress, I'm acutely aware of the nearness of his body. The enchantment of the dance floor seems to swirl around us, drawing us into a private world where only the two of us exist. With each word, each sultry intonation, the burning curiosity within me intensifies. I yearn to hear more, to unravel the mystery of Greyson Hawthorne, to understand the depths hidden behind those captivating eyes.

Yet, simultaneously, there's a part of me that longs to hide my face, to shield myself from the overwhelming allure of his charm. The tension between these conflicting desires rages within, creating a thrilling storm of emotions. It's as if Greyson possesses the power to render me utterly vulnerable with his magnetic presence and his artful flirting.

I feel the warmth radiating from his body, like a protective cocoon encasing us both, and every small movement, every subtle brush of his fingers against my back, deepens the sensation of being drawn further into the enchanting dance. It's a dance of desire and anticipation, an unspoken connection that intensifies with each passing second.

Swept up in the mesmerising spell of our shared moment, I feel as though I’m melting from the inside out, like wax beneath the heat of his seduction. I can’t help but surrender to the whirlwind of emotions that courses through me—nervousness mixing with uncontrollable desire, creating a heady cocktail of longing and attraction. 

In the dimly lit room, Greyson's knowing smile seems to deepen the intrigue of the moment. He leads me with a confidence that is both alluring and reassuring, his fingers laced with mine as we escape the bustling ballroom. The door closes behind us, and we find ourselves enveloped in an intimate silence. 

The muted sounds of celebration next door are like distant memories, and in the privacy of this secluded space, the air becomes charged with anticipation. It's as though the world outside has faded away, leaving only Greyson and me, locked in an unspoken dance of attraction. 

As he draws me closer, his body aligns perfectly with mine, and I can feel his heartbeats matching the rhythm of my own. Greyson's hands gently grasp my hips, his touch both firm and gentle, and with a sudden and daring move, he lifts me off the ground. I let out an astonished gasp, my heart racing, and he spins me around in his arms, creating a whirlwind of sensations that leave me breathless. My laughter mingles with the joy of the moment, and I can’t help but feel a blush rising to my cheeks. Greyson’s magnetic charm, combined with his audacious actions, is a heady cocktail that has me completely disarmed. In this exhilarating dance, I’m no longer able to keep the whirlwind of emotions at bay. 

As Greyson sets me down, our eyes lock, and the world seems to stand still. In that moment, the realisation hits me like a tidal wave. It's not just attraction that courses through my veins; it's something far more profound and all-encompassing. Love, deep and enduring, has been quietly simmering beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to reveal itself.

The sudden panic that washes over me is palpable. The intensity of my emotions threatens to consume me, and I instinctively push myself away from Greyson, creating distance between us. I need to regain control, to prevent myself from doing something reckless, like kissing him in the heat of the moment.

With a quick, uneasy glance over my shoulder, I turn to flee from the room. But just as I take that first step, Greyson's strong hand grabs my arm, halting my escape. He pulls me back to him with a sense of urgency, his voice a whispered confession that shatters my resolve.

"I feel it too," he murmurs, his words tinged with vulnerability, before his fingers brush against my cheek, tilting my face up toward his. 

In that heart-pounding instant, he claims my lips with a kiss that's both passionate and tender, igniting a fire that leaves me utterly breathless. It's a revelation of mutual longing, a confirmation of emotions that have been hidden for far too long. 

The kiss is a breathtaking fusion of passion and tenderness, igniting a fire deep within me that I never knew existed. Our lips meld together as if they were always meant to, creating a sensation that leaves me utterly breathless. In that heart-pounding moment, all my doubts and uncertainties dissolve into the profound realising that this connection has been silently growing, concealed beneath the surface for far too long. 

With each tender press of our lips, I feel a surge of emotion that sweeps me off my feet. It’s a sweet surrender, as if the barriers I’ve built around my heart have crumbled in an instant. Greyson’s kiss is a revelation, a confirmation of our mutual longing, a powerful and transformative force that binds us together.

As we break apart, gasping for breath, a knowing smile dances on Greyson’s lips. Without a word, he walks me backwards, keeping a firm grip on my hips, guiding me until I’m wedged between him and the wall. His body is a reassuring and protective presence, and I can feel the rise and fall of his chest against mine, matching the rapid beat of our hearts. 

The room seems to shrink around us, narrowing our world to this intimate space where everyone is redacted to the touch, the sensation, and the yearning in our eyes. It’s a moment that feels both timeless and fleeting, as if the past and the future converge into a single point of connection. 

Greyson’s arms encircle me with a possessive tenderness, drawing me closer until there’s barely any space between us. It’s as if he’s determined to anchor me in this moment, to make me realise the depth of his longing and devotion. His eyes, burning with an intensity that’s impossible to ignore, lock onto mine. In that gaze, I see years of unspoken desire and the weight of countless moments that have led us to this precise. I’m hopelessly captive by the connection that surges between us, unable to look away from the truth that lies within his gaze. 

And then, as if he can no longer contain the words, he confesses, “I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long.” 

My heart skips a beat at his admission, and I can’t help but smile in response, feeling a mix of joy, excitement, and relief. With a mischievous glint in my eye, I challenge him, “Well, kiss me them.”

Greyson’s lips curve into a satisfied smile, and he leans in closer, “You don’t have to tell me twice.” 

                           ┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

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@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

[milkchocolate-e]

Cuddling close and sharing eachother's warmth on a cold morning is my love language.

[dawnbreakersgaze]

Hi just finished the Dawnbreaker story... 😭😭😭 what the fuck that was so sad!!!! 😭😭😭 you weren't kidding Jesus christ 😭

AhhhhhhRIGHT

That shit is so brutal 😭 I HIGHLY recommend you read the second anecdote next to get that other slice of Dawnbreaker lore to add the nail in the coffin when you learn about how Dr. Zayne knows about and sees Dawnbreaker.

It will W R E C K you 🥴 or at least it did me

[space-blue]

Did Caitlyn ever realize Grayson was murdered by Silco? This could be a bonding moment between her and Vi, both lost adult figures in their lives to Silco. Caitlyn sharing more about her relationship with Grayson and her philosophy of "i use this gun to protect people" could change Vi's outlook on enforcers. Vi remembering Grayson's deal with Vander could lead her to think "if Vander could work with enforcers, I can too".

Hopefully season 2 builds more on this.

Did Vi realise that her parents were murdered by the Kiramman on the Council at the time? Did she learn the lab she attacked was a Kiramman lab? Does she know that Cait's mom was there, pushing for a bigger crackdown that resulted in Vander, Claggor, and Mylo's death, and ultimately her imprisonment in Stillwater without trial (which the Council gave no shit about)?

Would sharing a death in that one moment... Matter?

Silco killed Cait's mentor, and Cait's mom killed Cait's entire family, twice over. Yeesh.

This isn't the sort of bonding I'd like to see, because then I'd be yelling at my screen about all the other deaths being addressed too.

Vi says once that Enforcers killed her parents, and that's because she's upset at Enforcer Cait being callous. But the fact she went and laid into the bed of Councilor's Daughter Cait instead of also connecting enforcers to their bosses is one of the reasons I feel like the show did Vi dirty for Caitvi's sake.

I want to see mad dog Vi. I want Vi to align with enforcers because she's alienated all of Zaun. She sees them as Silco lovers, people who forgot her and moved on and allied themselves with Vander's killer. She could see them as weak and needing her protection, and they don't seem to WANT her, then she'll give it against their will if she must, working with the other people who police Zaun against its will.

I want Zaun to hate Vi for being Jinx's sister and having made everything worse with her return. I want Zaun to hate her for running around with a Councillor and nattering to the Council and being a rat and a snitch.

Because there's no other way now that I can see, since we can't change season 1. Vi's done what she's done. I'd rather see the more twisted Vi I wanted for season 1 in season 2 than never.

I'd hate for Vi to become a cop because she bonds over death with her cop girlfriend. It'd be her not engaging critically with anything that happened in her life. Who makes such woeful decisions on emotions alone?

Well, Vi, apparently. So it'd probably be in character. But I hope not. Or I hope it's treated as dark and complex, and not an uwu girlies bonding moment.

[theoccoven]

Ace smiled softly as he looked up at the older man. His big hand wrapped around Ace’s smaller waist. “You know…” Greyson raised a brow as Ace spoke. Jooheon walked back, settled behind the younger, his hand making a home on his left hip. He handed the younger a champagne flute. He settled his chin on his mole splattered shoulder. “I never thought this would happen.” They giggled while the two older men smiled fondly.

“Neither did we.”

[chuluoyi]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄

- zayne x reader

everyone knows dr. zayne is cool as a cucumber, and it's a given for him that you're known as his wife, but when a fresh-faced new resident seemingly makes a move on you... what will he do?

genre/warnings: very suggestive, jealousy (a very jealous zayne, in fact), making out in his office, crack, fluff, hunter!reader, you and zayne have a daughter

note: inspired by that one kim min-kyu scene in business proposal :D this is actually an extension for nocturne of twilight and dawn's first light but can also be read as standalone

You hadn't seen your husband for two weeks.

There was a spring on your step when you entered Akso Hospital right after your long intercity mission. You had acquired some bruises and they weren't anything serious, so you figured you’d just have Greyson treat them. Besides, it gave you the perfect excuse to hand him some cookies as a souvenir.

And, of course, ask him to ring for Zayne to meet you once he had the time.

"Miss, do you need help?"

But a curious voice addressed you when you loitered around in the lobby, and you turned around to find a bright-faced young man with red hair and wearing doctor's coat.

"Ah, yes, I want to meet Dr. Zayne," you smiled. "Or Dr. Greyson will do."

The young doctor perked up at the names you mentioned. "Oh, are you a patient? Do you have an appointment already?"

"Hmm, no, actually I am—"

You halted mid-sentence before the words his wife slipped out, rethinking your choice. You knew of Zayne's infamous reputation in the hospital, and while almost everyone in his floor knew you, this new doctor didn't, and you thought it was best to leave it that way.

"Yeah, I already have an appointment," you nodded, plastering an thin smile. "Just tell Dr. Greyson that Y/N wants to meet him."

"Right, right, I'll page him now..." he mumbled, pulling out his pager and his phone. "I'll text him too..."

"Thank you."

"O-oh, Miss! Wait!" the young man called after you in a hurry when you turned around. "I've noticed it for a while, you have a cut on the side of your lips..."

"Ah, this..." Your fingers instinctively brushed the dried blood on your lips. You hadn’t thought the small cut was noticeable. "Yes, it’s from earlier—"

"Actually, I’m an ER resident!" he interrupted with a bright grin. "Let me treat you first!"

Caught off guard by his enthusiasm, you barely had time to react as he gently but firmly guided you towards the emergency room.

"Dr. Zayne! Dr. Zayne! Your wife is here~!"

Zayne had barely stepped into his office after a grueling surgery when Greyson barged in, all too casually, delivering the news with a grin. "She’s waiting in the lobby!"

He blinked, slightly taken aback. "Oh?"

You're back? He pulled out his muted phone, checking the notifications. Sure enough, you’d sent him a message an hour ago, letting him know you’d safely landed in Linkon.

His little, snarky wife. For the past two weeks you had been away, the house had felt lonelier. Sure, his daughter—who resembled you in personality, no less—was a bundle of sunshine and adorable beyond words, but without you, there was always that subtle void in the air.

Or maybe it wasn’t the house at all? Maybe it was just him—utterly, hopelessly whipped.

"Why isn’t she coming up to my office?" he asked suddenly, noticing the odd detail.

"Hmm, yeah, and it’s weird... why did the new resident say she’s asking for me?" Greyson mused, turning toward Zayne. "Don’t you want to meet her instead? Whatever she needs me for, I’m sure you could handle it."

Zayne promptly left his office and took long strides toward the elevator. As the doors started to close, he even half-sprinted, calling out to the person inside to hold it for him.

Okay, maybe he was a little too eager, but was it really so wrong to be this excited to see his wife again when the two of you had been apart for two weeks?

...then again, you didn't need to know. You would roast him to bits should you know he missed you this much.

Zayne got off at the lobby, expecting to find you there— only to find the usual flow of hospital staff and visitors. He was about to call you when he wandered past the emergency room and turned the corner—and that’s when he got his shock of the day.

There you were. But not alone.

With a guy.

Whose hand is touching your lips.

"It must be tough being a hunter, huh?"

The red-haired resident carefully tended to your bruised arm, wrapping it in a fresh bandage as you sighed, thinking back to the mission. "Yeah, there are definitely some hard days..."

"But despite all that, you still keep yourself in shape!" he remarked, eyeing your toned arms with a hint of admiration.

You let out a sheepish laugh, remembering those pull-ups sessions with Zayne. "Haha, that's because my husband makes sure I'm getting enough exercise..."

"You're married?!" His voice was filled with disbelief, and it caught you off guard, yet he grinned afterwards. "Wow! Is he a hunter too?"

You would've never guessed, boy. This resident doctor was cute, you thought, ever so curious at everything. You could only imagine the look on his face if you told him that the Dr. Zayne was your husband.

You were about to refute it when his fingers brushed against your lips. "Oh, sorry, let me apply some ointment here first..."

His touch felt cool to your lips and you were momentarily stunned at the contact— but then a gruff cough startled you so much you almost jumped.

The towering figure of your husband behind him. Zayne's dark gaze was fixed on the man in front of you, like he could murder the poor guy with just a look.

"Z-Zayne...?" you squeaked against the ointment on your lips, and the resident quickly turned behind him in surprise, hastily greeting him, "Oh, Dr. Zayne!"

Zayne shot the poor man a single, pointed look before his gaze shifted to you, clearly unamused.

He suddenly grabbed your hand and, without sparing the resident another glance, swiftly pulled you away. The other guy was left standing there, speechless, as Zayne led you off, leaving him in the dust.

. . .

"Zayne!"

Oh, how he actually missed his name coming out from your lips.

"Are you done with your schedule?" you asked as he pulled you into the elevator, confusion evident in the way you tilted your head. But when he didn’t answer, you glanced down at his firm grip on your arm, suddenly realizing something. "Wait, no... are you angry?"

Sigh. It irked him so much, actually. Because, how could you, after weeks—

No, he actually knew he was being irrational. He shouldn’t overreact like this just because someone else touched you. But why is he so annoyed, still?

"Wait, why?" you kept asking, wide-eyed, as the two of you stepped out and made way towards his office. "I'm not injured! I'm fine! It's just some bruises—"

Without a word, Zayne pulled you into his office, swiftly locking the door behind him. Before you could say another word, he cornered you against the wall, and you fell silent instantly.

It had been a while since he’d seen you this way—stunned, caught off guard, and utterly silent under his gaze. He studied your face closely, watching the way your breath hitched as the tension between you both thickened.

It sparked something inside him seeing you like this, a sense of satisfaction that he couldn’t quite explain, but one he welcomed nonetheless.

That was when he saw the blood on your lips. "Did you get punched in the face?"

"Y-Yes, but— it's nothing severe!" you defended, trying to convince him. "It's such a small cut anyway!"

He frowned. "Why didn't you come to me?"

"What? Hey, I was about to ask Greyson, but—"

That got him frown even deeper, even irate. "Why Greyson? When you come home with any injuries, you come to me, not anyone else."

You let out a resigned sigh, slumping your shoulders in defeat. "Because I know you'll fuss over me, duh."

"I don't fuss," he retorted.

"You do," you shot back, pursing your lips. "You try to act like this cool, calm robot all the time, but you always drone on and on whenever you patch me up. You're worried, it shows."

Zayne huffed, shifting his gaze away from you as he felt his face burn. Was he that obvious? How could he not, though, when you managed to get hurt so often and yet acted so innocent about it?

Then as if inspired, you caught on immediately. Your eyes sparkled, and a mischievous smirk tugged at your lips. "Wait, just now... don't tell me... Are you jealous?"

Damn.

"Heh, Dr. Zayne, really?" Your voice was playful now, mocking him. "Whoa, how can this be?"

How had you figured him out so easily?

You continued in a sing-song voice, putting both hands on your chest, "Ah, my heart flutters! My husband is apparently—"

Enough. This time, his patience snapped.

He didn’t hesitate even for a moment. A low growl escaped him, and in one swift motion, he crashed his lips against yours, silencing you with the most effective method he could think of.

"Mmph!" You gasped in surprise, the teasing words at the end of your tongue completely forgotten. His gray eyes gleamed. Been too long, he thought, and now he was making sure you knew just how badly he craved this.

The kiss was searing as he deepened it, his tongue seeking yours with urgency. "Hngh!" You let out a feeble whine when he teased you by biting your lips.

Zayne held back a snort. One of his hand then strayed inside your hunter uniform, unclasping your bra with a flick.

"—?!" Your eyes widened as you realized what was happening, and before you could process it, he pulled away. But you were far from right in thinking it was over. The dangerous gleam in his eyes kept you tense as he swiftly removed his glasses...

...before he pulled you back towards him and claimed your lips once again.

With a swift, commanding motion, he guided you toward his desk. His papers scattered at the sudden movement, but he had you bent over it regardless, forcing your body to arch. One arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you firmly against him, while his right hand fondled your breasts, repeatedly squeezing, palming and switching between them.

"Mmm...!" You let out a strangled moan, instinctively holding onto his shoulder, feeling the way how he groped you ignited your core. "Ahh..."

Your body was tantalizing as always. Hardened and sometimes bruised from your work it may be, but to Zayne, you were still beautiful as ever.

When you gasped for air, he decided he was done with your swollen lips. His lips then trailed down to your neck, sucking hard on it, creating a squelching sound that sent a shiver racing down your spine.

"W-what's... gotten into you...?" you breathed out, tangling your fingers in his hair, hyperaware of his hands still roaming over your nipples.

In response, he nibbled at your skin and flicked your breasts at the same time, causing you to freeze and draw a sharp, hitched breath. "Haah...!"

Unbeknownst to you, his lips curled wickedly at your reaction, and he continued to pepper your neck with series of wet sucks as if to mark you altogether. You writhed under him, whiny and sighing, relishing his hot breath on your skin.

You were utterly at his mercy, pliant and helpless in his hands. There was a deep satisfaction in knowing he was the only one who could bring you, his lawfully wedded wife, to this state—

Still, he wouldn’t allow you to be indecent in a place like this. When he finally pulled back, he was breathing heavily, eyes dark with lust, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of your jaw. "Don’t tempt me," he muttered, voice low and raspy.

You gazed up at him, your heart pounding. "Zayne..." you whispered, a whine broke through the heat on your flushed face.

His expression softened just enough, a flicker of tenderness cutting through the intensity. Pretty. That’s what you were, undeniably so. How he had missed out on you so long once was his greatest regret.

Carefully, he helped you sit upright, his touch gentle as he clasped your bra and began buttoning up your uniform, disheveled from his earlier ministrations.

The gentle way he touched you was a stark contrast to how it was earlier. "Is that a new way to treat busted lip?" you nudged his collar, feeling a little braver now.

"For bad wives, yeah."

"I'm not a bad wife! Just disobedient on some occasion."

Zayne's fingers brushed your face as he finished with your uniform, his dark-gray eyes steady on you. You pouted.

"You're the one who's bad," you accused with slight resentment, not missing a beat as the heat between your legs started to dissipate. "Leaving me unfinished like that."

"Hmm? Am I?" he murmured, the faintest amusement in his tone.

"You have to take responsibility tonight, you big meanie," you mumbled, your pout deepening as you avoided meeting his gaze.

Zayne snorted at the sight of you—so precious in his eyes, his thumb lightly grazing the corner of your lips in a gesture so tender it made your heart skip, before whispering in your ear:

"Well, if your voice won't wake our daughter, that is."

Epilogue

Not long after, just as you had gathered yourself and were preparing to leave the hospital to head home, a sudden knock at the door of his office startled you both.

Quickly, you moved to sit on the patient’s seat, feigning nonchalance as you braced yourself for whoever was on the other side. Zayne reached for the door, but before he could unlock it, a familiar voice called out.

"Excuse me!" the resident's voice sounded a bit hesitant but firm. "Dr. Zayne, the miss left her handbag earlier!"

Zayne let out a low, irked sigh. You glanced at him curiously, watching as he opened the door and came face-to-face with the redheaded resident.

Without a word, he extended his hand, and the resident blinked before handing over the bag.

"I-is the miss still here?" the young doctor asked, almost intimidated by his unfriendly gaze.

"Ma'am," Zayne corrected, his voice flat.

"Huh?"

"Call her ma'am. She's someone's wife."

"O-oh, and her husband is—"

"Me. I am her husband."

Your eyes widened in surprise at the matter-of-fact exchange, heat rising to your cheeks as Zayne’s words hung confidently in the air. He curtly thanked the poor resident before slamming the door shut in his face.

Your jaw practically hit the floor. "Zayne!" you gasped, staring at him as he turned back towards you, entirely unbothered.

Your husband was as cold as the snowman he often made, but somehow the way he boldly declared he was your husband was just so him that it made you so giddy.

You tilted your head, crossing your arms with a playful smile. "You’re really jealous, huh? How?"

He didn’t answer, his gaze still fixed elsewhere, most definitely trying to save his dignity.

You chuckled softly, stepping closer to him with a teasing sway. Your fingers traced the sharp line of his jaw, turning him to face you, and you winked at him mischievously.

"Well, I’m all yours. But if it makes you feel better, maybe I’ll stay away from any ER residents for a while~"

[vesearlee]

──── 𝑻𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒚𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒊𝒂

To see the well-versed, experienced cardiac surgeon in such a state of distress was a sight you were not keen to experience again, and even at the cost of your shared secret, you would do anything to soothe him and bring him down from the adrenaline high.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ── Zayne x Scrub Nurse!F!Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ── 2.1k 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ── Smut, fluff, pet names, secret relationship, power imbalance, innappropriate use of an on-call room, Greyson is so sick of Zayne's shit ➺ Wall, public, desperate sex, creampie, praise, uniform, size kink 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐀 ── @smutconnoisseur (my absolute saviour, thank you for buckling in with my utterly insane rambles) 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐒 ── Keep It Down by Migrant Motel 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ── HERE 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ── My first smut I have written in a year, oi vey.

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 ── Medical Edition Bingo (@fandom-free-bingo) ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Playful Growls • O5 ── MASTERLIST ── Gingerbread Bingo (@fandom-free-bingo) ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Finally Kissing Them • G3 ── MASTERLIST ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ "Please." • B4 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Hospital AU • I5 ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Desperate Kiss • O4 ── MASTERLIST ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Public Sex • I5 ── MASTERLIST ── Any Fandom AU Bingo (@anyfandomaubingo) ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ Hospital AU • I3 ── MASTERLIST ── Under The Sea Bingo (@seasonaldelightsbingo) ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ nuzzling their partner's neck like a cat • G4 ── MASTERLIST

─── 𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ───

The atmosphere was tense — not unlike any other time within the bustling halls of the surgery floor, but this time, the air was thick with apprehension, a dash of uncertainty for what laid behind the double doors of the operating room. 

As though you could feel the gaze of those above in the observation window, you shivered from nerves beneath the countless layers you wore. The shirt you wore was form fitting, as all scrub wear was, but it felt somehow even tighter, closing in around your throat even with the deep-necked collar. 

In front of you were the immovable and ever-focused figures of your superiors. Both were skilled surgeons and almost indistinguishable while gowned in endless layers, but one stood out in particular — he was straight-backed and intently homed in on the chest cavity of his patient while his deft fingers moved with purpose, going from scalpel to scissors, to thread and needles. The occasional, clear command of: “Suction,” came every few seconds to every minute. 

“Doctor,” a voice spoke, clear and kind in tone. 

“We’re almost finished–” Snip.

Footsteps shuffled around you as a few team members re-emerged in new places to better accommodate the final stages of surgery. This singular procedure had been in the pipeline for months, and naturally, they called upon the most skilled surgeon to undertake it, the chief of surgery himself, Zayne. 

Few knew of the intimate relationship between the chief surgeon of Akso hospital and his dedicated scrub nurse — a secret you desperately hoped to maintain.

Time seemed to melt away in a haze of stolen glances and lingering touches, your history together blurring into an intoxicating mix of professional respect and burning desire. A shiver ran down your spine as Zayne declared the surgery complete, his commanding voice sending a familiar heat through your core. 

He stepped back from the patient, his scrubs marked with evidence of his skilled work — crimson streaks and surgical fluids that somehow made him look even more imposing, more powerful.

“Sir,” you said quietly, outstretching your hands to meet him halfway. Your own gloved hands carefully pulled the soiled gloves from his hands to reveal the scrub cuffs of his shirt.

Zayne strode silently toward the sliding, pressurized door leading to the preparation room. A large metal basin gleamed under the harsh downlights. You watched with concern as he gripped its edge, his wrists shaking from strain. 

The door slid shut with an ominous, loud click, leaving you alone with him in the preparation room. 

Your heart raced as you stepped closer, closing the distance between you both. The fingers on your outstretched hand trembled slightly as you reached for the ties of his surgical gown, and the fabric rustled beneath your touch as you slowly undid the knots at his upper back, then lower, each movement deliberate and charged with tension. 

The scrub gown fell away from his broad shoulders, and your breath caught at your proximity to him while you helped him shrug it off. 

With quick, almost desperate movements, you discarded both his soiled gown and your own into the waste bin, the sudden lack of barriers between you making the air feel electric.

The metal of the basin began to creak under his grip, and his shoulders heaved slightly. “Zayne?” you whispered, resting a hand on the back of his bicep. “Are you all right?”

It happened in a whirl — one moment you were standing beside the trembling figure of your lover, and then, the next moment your feet scrambled to keep you upright against the sudden tug of Zayne’s hand gripping your elbow. “Wait, wait, Zay– What’s wrong?” The question sounded sharp to your ears, and he only huffed in reply. 

His footsteps echoed harshly in the eerily deserted corridor outside of the surgery suite, and the sight seemed to bring his mind back into focus. “Come with me.” 

“Where?” you rushed, still jogging to keep up with his long strides. The determined pull of his brow and set line of his lips stirred something deep within you, but you shoved that thought down with extreme force — you were at work, you scolded silently. “They– Won’t they need you back–?”

“No, Greyson will handle it.” His pace increased, as did the rustle of his slacks. The sound caught your attention, but before you could glance down to make sure he wasn’t leaving the OR suite with contaminated clothes, fingers gripped your chin and forced your face upwards. 

You gulped, the flush of heat that coursed through you had nothing to do with nerves or exertion within the operating room. Deep, hazel eyes bore into your own, and his mouth opened around a few words that made your stomach swoop. “I need you.” 

The outline of his face grew blurry, and you blinked. “I– Uh, okay, um–”

“Now.” 

The force of his pull made a squeak of surprise slip past your tight lips, and you were tugged toward the closest on-call room. “But we’re at work–!”

“I don’t care,” Zayne grit out through clenched teeth. The door slammed open, and you rushed inside, him following right behind you. You noticed his grip was still trembling, the twitch of his arm far more noticeable now that his shirt left nothing to your imagination. 

“But– Oh, shit, Zayne!” Your feet were lifted from the ground, and your hands carded through his hair to ground yourself. The sheer volume of your shout made a sense of fear tear through your middle; being caught in such a compromising situation with your superior would spell disaster. “Wait, wait, baby,” you begged, panting against his lips, but he was not deterred. 

While one hand gripped the swell of your ass to keep you in the air, the other moved towards your neck. “No,” Zayne grunted, tilting your head back with his thumb beneath your chin. His lips trailed from your jaw to your collarbone and back up again. “The only way that I will wait,” he continued, his voice lowering into a husked rasp. “Is if you were to tell me you didn’t want this.” 

“No, no I do, please–” The hand pushing your head back vanished, and you lowered your chin to capture his lips with yours — to tease him even further, you nibbled on his bottom lip and grinned as he groaned low in his throat, a silent curse escaping in a sigh. 

“Be quiet for me then, darling.” 

You giggled and shifted in his grip to help pull down the scrub pants you wore, and they fell to your ankles with ease. The sheer strength needed to make such a move made you swoon, a rush of light headedness forcing you to gasp for air. “How can you–?”

“I need you,” Zayne repeated in a low growl. “I need this—need to feel you.” 

The pressure of his hand on your ass increased, and you felt the flutter of fabric against the back of your thigh, followed by the quiet clink of his belt. “Zayne, please,” you breathed, staring at him through half-lidded eyes. Fabric rustled as the waistband of his slacks shifted and fell to his hips. 

"I know," he whispered. His fingers traced along your clothed cunt, drawing a soft gasp from your lips. A knowing smirk curved his mouth as he felt your arousal. "I can feel how much you want this, already so wet for me, my darling girl, hm? Who knew you were so eager." 

The sudden sound of muffled footsteps made you both freeze, your attention now front and center on the fact you were currently half-way up the wall of an on-call room, legs wrapped around Zayne’s tense middle while he teased your clit with the pads of his fingers. Shocks of pleasure shot up your spine as he circled your clit with precision, and his other hand hastily closed your parted mouth. “Shh, keep quiet, darling. You don’t want them to know how well you take it, do you?”

“Shut up and kiss me,” you hissed, the words muffled by his palm. 

Zayne chuckled and stepped closer, the tip of his cock pressing against your clit. “Easy, darling,” he cooed, finally moving his hand away from your mouth. "Open up for me, sweetheart," Zayne murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "Let yourself feel everything–” The push of his cock made your eyes squeeze shut. “Yes, just like that, perfect."

A hitched whine caught in your throat as the pressure grew. “Ha– Oh, my god.” Your forehead fell to his shoulder, and your hands moved from his hair to his broad shoulders. “Don’t– Don’t you dare stop–”

“I don’t plan to, but you have to let me in, baby,” Zayne rasped, his breath hot over the shell of your ear. “You can do it—be a good girl for me.”

Shuddering with the onslaught of sensation, you took a deep breath. The gentle coaxes and praise from Zayne made it easier to breathe, and after several, slow inhales, you nodded slightly. “M’kay.”

A soft brush of Zayne’s lips against your temples made you smile dazedly, and you moaned softly as you felt him withdraw, then gasped at the delicious pressure as he pushed back in. “You must’a been all pent up,” you breathed. 

“You have no idea,” he grunted, and then you felt his resolve snap. 

The pitch of your moans increased as Zayne lost himself in you, the slide of the plaster wall while the force of his thrusts kept moving you up the wall behind you pulled at your shirt and exposed your lower stomach — the feeling of his own shirt against the strip of bare skin only made the intensity of your pleasure burn hotter. “Za– Ohmygod, you feel–”

“How you can be so tight, baby,” he growled, his forehead now resting against your sternum. “I can’t last– Fuck, I can’t.” 

The outward curse made you gasp, your heart raced to keep up with the rush of pleasure he gave you. “Give it to me, please—I need it, Zayne, ohgod–”

“You’ll have it.” 

Your scrub shirt rustled and you squeaked as you were pulled back down the wall, now eye to eye with him. “I want to watch you, see how pretty my darling is when she loses herself over my cock.”

“Don’t–” 

“Don’t what?” The few strands of hair that brushed against the very top of his glasses now stuck to his forehead. “I cannot help but be greedy for what’s mine.”

“Oh– Zayne, Zayne,” you chanted, the sudden burn all consuming as the coil in your stomach grew unbearably taut. “Please, ‘m so close, please!”

The sounds and mewls of pleasure that fell from your parted lips were silenced by his own, a kiss that was all teeth and tongue — the feeling of being consumed from the inside out by him blurred your vision around the edges with its intensity. 

“Give it to me, baby. Give it all to me, come on,” he coaxed, voice rough against your lips, and his harsh pants for air only added to the litany of sensations. “Come apart for me, that’s it–”

“Zayne!”

Waves of pleasure crashed over you as your senses overloaded — blood rushed in your ears, your thighs trembled uncontrollably against his sides, and your toes curled in your shoes. Your fingers desperately sought anchor; one hand gripped his broad shoulder while the other tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as ecstasy consumed you completely.

“Fuck, oh god, fuck,” Zayne groaned deeply, his hips stuttering to a stop as your walls clenched around him. “I’m going to–” His words cut off with a guttural moan as he came, flooding you with warmth that triggered another wave of pleasure through your oversensitive body. Each subtle movement of his cock inside you drew out more delicious aftershocks.

“Please,” you hoarsely begged, putting your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer. He moaned in reply and tucked his face into your neck, all while rocking in place to ride out what pleasure was left. 

The room filled with your shared breaths and soft moans as you squeezed around him deliberately, making him press even closer. “You're quite unprofessional,” he rumbled against your neck, his smile evident in his voice. “And such a troublemaker too.”

You let out a wicked laugh, ignorant of the footsteps outside in the corridor, and squeezed around him deliberately, delighting in the strangled gasp that escaped his throat. “Oh, that's rich coming from the one who just had to have me against a wall at work. So much for being professional, Doctor.”

“Hush.” ​​His hands slid from your hips to your waist as he let out a breathless chuckle. "If I were you, I would be more careful with that mouth of yours, darling. We still have half a shift to get through." The warning in his voice held a playful edge that made you shiver with anticipation for when he would drive you home.

[fathomlessgaze]

bring your child to work day: zayne and his daughter spend a day at the hospital

fluff, dad!zayne/reader (a little bit), ~2.2k

warnings: reader only makes a small appearance it's mostly about zayne + his daughter spending quality time together tbh, allusions to zayne + mc's lore (no specific memory idt just the overarching theme of their story), zayne is a devoted girl dad bc i believe in girldad!zayne...

a/n: mc/reader + zaynes daughter is named zenith here bc i liked the idea of them sharing an initial 😭 meaning the highest point/the point right above you in the sky bc i think thats what she would be for zayne+mc like one of the best moments of their lifetimes :( anyway it's mentioned in the fic but shes the spitting image of zayne thats his mini-me fr

“good morning,” zayne says, passing by the nurses’ station without much fuss. it’s an ordinary wednesday, after all.  

“morning,” greyson echoes with a curt nod, his eyes still focused on the files he’s reviewing from an overnight patient. 

“mornin’!” a third voice calls happily. 

greyson freezes, his papers falling unceremoniously on the floor. “huh!?” he exclaims, a little too loud for a hospital corridor. 

however the chief pays his outburst no mind, and he suddenly sees why, greyson’s gaze finding the little girl perched on his boss’ hip. of course, he remembers, it’s “bring your child to work” day. but for some reason, he never thought that zayne would actually bring his child to work. perhaps that explains why he’d made sure no surgeries were scheduled for this day weeks ago. 

zayne strokes her dark hair, brushing a loose strand from her pigtails behind her ear. “this is dr. greyson,” he speaks softly, pointing in his direction. “dr. greyson, meet zenith.” 

“nice to meet you!” she exclaims, waving a chubby hand in the air, paying no mind to his wide eyes and slack jaw. 

she can’t be over four judging from her height, and, of course, greyson knew zayne had a daughter, but he didn’t really know. he remembers you mentioning her at your appointments, the photos on his desk and, of course, zayne’s paid time off actually being used at personal all time highs (which had already been on the incline after you moved in and then got married) since a few years ago, but it still feels surreal to actually see him with his child. 

if she has any opinion on greyson’s lack of response besides the cartoon birds that would appear around his head if they were in an animated tv show, she gives no hint. instead, she smiles brightly, her green eyes sparkling as she takes zayne’s glasses off his face and fists the lenses, trying to rotate them in her tiny hands and fit them on her own face. 

somehow, with the much too large frames perched on her nose, she looks even more like her father. everything, from her dark hair tied with ribbons to her hazel eyes, the curve of her brow and little nose, she is her father’s daughter to a t. perhaps the only un-zayne-like thing about her is the permanent cheeriness in her gaze and her gummy smile. that she must’ve gotten from you. while greyson has definitely noticed how his boss has become a little less taciturn and stern over the years, he would be lying to himself if he said he ever thought zayne would become even a miniscule fraction as bubbly as the daughter he holds close right now.

“i didn’t know you were bringing your daughter in today!” greyson exclaims, the realizations of today finally settling and coming together in his mind.

there’s a fondness in his eyes as he glances to zenith, his lips quirking the slightest bit upwards. “she’s been asking for weeks to come with me; i figured now would be the best time with the other kids here. i know you’ve seen the schedule for today, but—”

“oh my god!” yvonne gasps, speeding towards the trio gathered. “you brought your daughter, dr. zayne!” she extends her hand to the girl, which she happily takes. “i’m yvonne, i work with your dad.” 

“i’m zenif,” she babbles, her syllables getting caught on her missing tooth. 

simultaneously both greyson and yvonne coo at the little girl. 

“aren’t you the cutest thing? i’ve seen so many pictures of you but you’re just the dearest little one, hm?” 

and word of mouth travels fast, because, soon enough, a whole crowd has come to fuss over the most adorable little girl who looks exactly like the aloof department chair and has the sweetest smile. she graciously accepts their compliments with quiet ‘thank you's' and hides her face in her father’s neck and shoulder, causing even more ‘aww’s to fall from his colleagues’ lips. when the attention dies down, zayne finally gets to his office, nearly an hour later than he usually would have by now, but he can’t even be annoyed. his little girl is the most precious; of course, he would react in the same way. 

he shuts the door behind them and puts his bag down by his desk, moving zenith so she has a place on his lap when he sits down. “what would you like to do today, hm?” he asks, booting up his computer and finding a pile of files from the depths of a drawer. 

“what do you do?” she asks.

he hums. “well sometimes i see patients who don’t feel well, sometimes i do surgeries on them so they feel better, and sometimes i have to do paperwork. i don’t have any patients or surgeries scheduled today, so we can do whatever you want; how does that sound?”

“what about paperwork?” she exclaims. “you said that’s what you do?” 

“would you like to do paperwork with me?” 

she nods firmly. “i wanna spend time with daddy!” 

his heart softens, his already abnormally warm (at least for work standards) gaze growing even more endeared by his precious, favorite little girl. “you want to spend time with me?” 

her head bobs and she wraps her arms around his neck, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “of course! i love you, daddy.”

pressing a kiss to her cheek, he can’t help a smile. of course he knows she loves him, loves spending time with him. when he’s home she’s practically glued to his hip. and he tries his best to make sure she knows the same. but sometimes it’s just nice to hear it from someone you love. “and i love you, princess.” 

it used to be a foreign expression on his tongue many, many years ago, before you’d returned to his life, and especially before she came into his life. but as time flew by, thanks to you and your help, he’d grown familiar, comfortable, fond with it. while he knew you didn’t mind him not saying that as much as other boyfriends and husbands might from all your conversations, knowing he expressed how much he loved you and then some through other ways, he knew she might not have understood just how her father expressed his feelings and fondness at her young age. 

so beyond his quiet actions, he makes sure to tell her. whether it’s a post-it note in her lunchbox, right next to the heart-shaped sandwich with the crusts cut off, just how she likes it, whenever it’s his turn to make her lunch, or a birthday card she’ll know how to read one day, he tries to tell her through words too. ‘i love you’ went from an expression he seldom said or heard, to one he couldn’t get enough of, whether it be from your lips or hers, and one he always wanted you both to know. 

“let’s see what kind of paperwork we can find for you, then.” coincidentally a knock sounds from the other side of the door. “come in.” 

“they brought some donuts and coloring pages out in the lobby,” yvonne says, popping her head in. “i figured you’d both be interested.” 

“thank you, yvonne.” when the door shuts, zayne leans back to look at his daughter, brushing her hair. “what do you think about that? do you want to take a look?” with her eager nods, zayne stands.

“i wanna walk,” she pouts, tugging on his once crisp button-up, and he puts her down accordingly, taking her small fingers in his. 

they make their way hand in hand down the corridor, drawing even more endeared coos from the staff until they reach the table. kneeling down to her height, he points at a smaller kids table in the corner.

“how about you get some coloring sheets and crayons? i can get you a donut and we can head back and do some paperwork,” he explains.  

she happily obliges, skipping over and inspecting the books with a familiar seriousness (which also makes the other staff coddle her just as much as her bright smiles. “aren’t you so precious!?” “she’s just like her father!” zayne can’t help the small quirk of his lips when he hears how cute they find his daughter, because she is, speaking from his personal experience.). meanwhile he grabs a strawberry donut with sprinkles and a chocolate one, both her favorites, placing them on a napkin and grabbing a few extra knowing how she takes after you in terms of her messiness. 

meeting her in the corner, he bends down, taking a quick look at the drawings she’s taken. “find anything you like?” he asks.

raising her pages to his eyes, she beams. “they have the bears!” 

he smiles softly, tucking her loose hair away. “yes, they do,” he hums. “who knew?” 

it totally wasn’t like he’d ordered specific character coloring books when it was time for the cardiology department to refill their kids’ activity section. it totally wasn’t like he’d looked for some ones he knew his daughter would love. it wasn’t like that at all; zayne maintains he’s as impassive and serious at work as ever…he’s lying to himself.

when she gathers her crayons, the duo make their way back to his office. the day flies quickly by, her babbles and light, curious questions bringing a new level of comfort and joy zayne never thought he’d get from his job. he loves what he does, of course, but everything just seems more enjoyable and memorable with his daughter by his side. or rather, with her on his lap, in her own little world of just her and her beloved dad, oblivious to the seriousness of the paperwork her father is dealing with as she busies herself with her own “paperwork” and scribbles vibrant colors all over the once black and white image.

and zayne thinks he would be perfectly content if it were to stay like this forever. even with all his prizes and awards, nothing could compare to the reward and title of being your husband and zenith’s father. 

he lowers his pen to the desk from his fingers, using his free hand to rest his head as he admires the precious life before him. “i love you, princess,” he murmurs, pinching her cheek. 

“i love you too, daddy!” she turns to face him, crumbs of donut glaze still around her lips. 

he takes a napkin and dabs at her face before checking his watch. you’d said you’d meet them around now… “how about we get lunch soon?” 

right on time, a knock sounds from the door, which opens to reveal you. “how are my favorite doctors doing?” you exclaim. 

“mama!” she cheers, hopping off zayne’s knee and running into your waiting embrace. 

kissing her head, you give her a squeeze. “how’s work with dada going?” 

“i love it here! daddy colors and eats dessert all day,” she cheers. 

glancing to your husband, you chuckle. “is that so?” 

he makes his way towards you both, giving you a peck as you stand, your daughter now on your hip. “something like that,” he mumbles. 

“then maybe i should become a doctor too,” you tease. “is now a good time for lunch?” 

he nods, opening the office door once more and allowing you to pass first. 

“i wanna become a doc-tor, too,” zenith ponders, suddenly serious with her small fingers tapping at her chin as she thinks, a habit no doubt from her father. “then daddy and i can color and eat snacks together forever!” 

“is that so?” you ask, but you can’t help the smile you shoot at your husband. 

she bobs her head, a determined furrow in her brow. “i wanna be with mama and daddy forever.” 

zayne has a warm fondness in his gaze as his eyes find his daughter. she looks up to him with wide eyes and her gummy grin, reaching her small hand out for his own, which he happily obliges. her tiny fist wraps around two of fingers, and he briefly wishes that she could stay his little girl for eternity. she doesn’t need to know how hard her dad’s job actually is, how much work he had to put in to get to where they are now, the sorrows of her parents’ past. she is a precious gem, the shining peak of all your shared lifetimes. 

this one existence, finally at peace, a happy ending for you and him, domestic bliss with the two, now three, of you, he thinks it’s worth every tear that’s been shed before. and maybe in another universe and lifetime, the you’ll get another happy ending. he thinks that even if it’s a simple life, as long as it’s with the two of you, it’d be one he cherishes and treasures close to every fiber of his existence, one he would fight all there may be to remember, for no god could tear his devotion. maybe he’d even bet every splintering past life that led to this one was worth the years he’s gotten to spend with you in this one, and the years still to come. so he hopes she stays as optimistic and bright as ever, that you stay by his side in this heavenly life he could only once dream of. after all, ice is made of crystals.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LNDS: Hospital Trip | Fluff

Listen...this was supposed to be a crack fic. Apparently when I write long form fics I can't help but take it seriously. So this is romantic comedy now. It's fluff. I'm not a Zayne girlie but damn do I adore him...I might be a Zayne girlie. And a Rafayel girlie. And a Xavier girlie...I'm a whore.

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: Crack treated seriously, But also is this really crack anymore?, Romance mixed with comedy, flirting, Blood, Leg injuries, stitches, shots (the not fun kind) Synopsis: You had been enjoying your day when a small incident led you to the hospital. Thankfully your beloved boyfriend is taking care of you, but he does demand an explanation at to how you got injured...something you'd rather he not know. Word Count: 4,159

Blog Information | Masterlist

Zayne

Hospital Trip | Zayne x Reader

You let out an unamused huff as you leaned against the back of the hospital bed, looking off in the distance. Your leg was on fire at the moment and you weren’t exactly happy to be in the hospital. Thankfully Yvonne had been sweet enough to allow you to see Dr. Zayne about your injury (even though she insisted that Dr. Greyson was available immediately and Zayne was finishing up a surgery, you didn’t care.)

You perked up as you heard the door open, smiling the moment you saw Zayne. You weren’t even sure if he was aware that you’d be his patient as Yvonne didn’t bother getting you checked in. He looks up from the paperwork in his hands, seeing that you were sitting on his examination table with a dopey grin.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He said, his voice soft as he adjusted his glasses. He clearly hadn’t noticed that something was amiss as you shifted on the table.

“Well, you see…” You said, shifting more to show the inner part of your thigh. The thigh that happened to be getting blood on his examination table. The way you were sitting had helped it not pool too much, and the nurse that helped you in the room did place a small tourniquet around your leg (although in all honesty it wasn’t that bad).

Zayne paused at seeing the injury, looking at you and then back at your bloody thigh. His lips pressed together as he nodded in disappointment, realizing that you had probably given some nurses hell as they tried helping you and you refused. The hospital was used to your antics, especially when it came to your doctor. Unless you were dying, you insisted on seeing Zayne for everything.

He approached you, placing a hand over a section that didn’t have blood on it. You were grateful to be wearing shorts today so you didn’t have to take off your pants for this…although the thought of waiting for Zayne in his office in only your underwear was an amusing thought. An idea for another day.

The feel of his cold hand had you instinctually opening your legs up more for the man. He looked back up at your face and you couldn’t help but wiggle your eyebrows suggestively at him.

“Is there a reason this hasn’t been treated yet? How long have you been here?” He asked, finally taking his hand away from you.

“Um, maybe ten minutes? I told them it wasn’t that bad and I’d wait for you.” You told him and he shot you a look. He sighed, going over to see that the nurses had already gotten him a tray of items he’d be needing.

You wouldn’t lie, you had gotten nervous when you saw the nurse wheeling the tray in and seeing it had items for stitches. You really didn’t think your injury was that bad. Granted you couldn’t feel your leg at the moment, but that's besides the point.

“If your leg is in this condition, you should’ve allowed another doctor to tend to it.” Zayne scolded, walking over to the sink and washing his hands.

You hummed before smirking, “Well I figured you wouldn’t like having one of your coworkers between my thighs, since you are the jealous type.” You teased him. Zayne shot you a small glare, but you knew he wouldn’t stay mad for long.

“Leave the suggestive comments please. There is nothing sexual about a doctor tending to their patients.” He said, pausing and letting out another long sigh. You wondered what was causing him so much grief since you saw a flash of something in his eyes as he remembered something, “I need you to take your shorts off.”

You barked out a laugh, “Nothing sexual my ass.” you said, going to unbutton your shorts, “I’m surprised you’re letting me take them off, you’re always so eager to be the one doing it back home.” 

“I said to leave the comments.” He said, placing gloves onto his hands as he approached you on the table.

“I can’t help it when you’re this easy to tease.” You winked before looking at the supplies he had been given, “So you gonna numb me up before you sew thread into my thigh?”

“I don’t know, should I be numbing you? If you have the energy to flirt, the pain must not be that bad.” He said, watching as you shucked your shorts off and placed them next to you on the bed. “Now might I be enlightened as to how this happened in the first place? If I’m not mistaken, today was your day off.”

You made a small, pained noise in the back of your throat as you thought back to what you had done. Nope. Absolutely not. He didn’t really need to know what had happened, did he?

“I tripped.” You lied, knowing he wouldn’t buy it for even a second. You’d rather tell him an obvious lie then do too good of a job and have him believe you. He always ends up finding the truth eventually, and when he finds out you actually lied to him, he always gets upset and distant. So you never did it to him. You’d give him the world’s fakest lie so he could tell right away.

“I’m not asking out of curiosity. I need to know if you might’ve gotten something in your wound. I need to know as your doctor.” A shiver went down your spine at the statement. There was always a difference between your sweet, caring boyfriend Zayne, and Akso’s Chief of Surgery, Doctor Zayne Li. You, of course, adored both sides, but seeing him switch to being Doctor Zayne was always hot.

“Fine, then I assume if you’re asking as my Doctor, then you won’t be judging me when I tell you?” You said, shifting in your spot. You really didn’t want to tell him. He was the best boyfriend ever but god damn could he give your sass back ten fold.

“Sadly doctor’s are entitled to judge whomever they please, we’re just not allowed to voice it to our patients or coworkers.” He said and you huffed. 

“You’re judging me right now, aren’t you?” You finally murmured.

“Always quick to catch on.” He had the audacity to smirk as he grabbed the shot that you assumed had the lidocaine in it and waved it in place to tease you.

“Asshole…” You said under your breath. He looked at you with his eyebrow raised.

“What was that, you don’t want to be numbed?” He asked and a small, pathetic whine came from you.

“I mean my beloved boyfriend who is so kind, caring, and compassionate. The boyfriend who will do anything to keep me out of harm's way and fixes me up when I have booboos in the nicest way possible.” You said, pressing your hands together and smiling at him.

He looked like he wanted to roll his eyes at your praise and you finally relaxed a bit, “I’m still waiting to find out what happened.” He reminded you.

"Okay, where to begin…” You said, tapping your lower lip, “Well I woke up a bit later than usual since I didn’t have work today. I went to the kitchen to get some breakfast and was going through the freezer when I noticed we didn’t have any ice cream left!” You began and Zayne gave you an unamused look.

At this point, Zayne was grabbing the alcohol wipes to begin cleaning off the blood so he could see the actual damage, “I don’t need a play by play of your day, darling, I need to know how you injured yourself.”

You chuckled at the pet name and Zayne smiled ever so slightly at the happy wiggle you did on the table, “Okay, but it’s all super important information.” You chided with a small waggle of your finger, “So I decided the best course of action would be to run down to the store and go buy some in case we wanted some ice cream tonight. So I got dressed and walked down to the corner store.”

“Did you actually manage to get any?” He asked and your smile fell.

“Well…of course I did. At first. I got the ice cream and it was all bagged up. I left the store after thanking this sweet new cashier, her name is Tamara by the way.” You said with a wave of your hand, “Then out of nowhere I heard this sweet little chirping and saw a baby bird was on the ground. Clearly he had fallen, but thankfully it had been in a bed of soft flowers.” You explained.

You watched as Zayne paused, thinking about what you said and shook his head, “Sit correctly please, I need to clean your wound.” He said, pushing your legs to a better position.

“Okay so clearly you know the corner store I’m talking about, ya? The one right by your apartment?” You asked.

“Our apartment? Yes, I recall. It’s the one that always has a sign outside with those drawings to draw people in on the newest products.” He said and you paused before giggling again at him calling it our apartment. You'd never get tired of that since you had only been living together for a short while.

“Then you know how there’s some construction going on right next to it. There’s that metal fence they put up to keep people out and there’s a tree right on the other side.” You said and Zayne nodded, “Well the nest was in that tree.”

“Of course, why wouldn’t it be in an easier to reach location?” He sarcastically murmured to himself. It was just loud enough for you to pick up, and you went to kick him before freezing at realizing it was your bad leg. The same leg that earlier you couldn’t feel, but when you made sharp movements apparently it was all you could feel.

“Well I couldn’t just leave the poor thing there to die, so I scooped it up and put it into my jacket pocket.” You said and Zayne made note that you didn’t seem to have a coat anymore. How curious.

You flinched away as Zayne began cleaning the wound, the alcohol burning but he held your leg in place as he continued dabbing at it. 

You cleared your throat, trying to not think about the sting, “So I managed to climb the fence without any issues thankfully. There were also no construction workers so I was all by my lonesome in my quest to put this birdie back in its nest.”

Zayne paused as he finished cleaning the wound, looking up at you from behind his glasses. You don’t know why you felt small under his gaze at the moment, especially since he was technically underneath you.

“Then I started to climb that tree to put the birdie back into its home. It wasn’t very high up in the tree thankfully, so it was easy enough to place him there.” You explained, happy about your accomplishment.

“I’m very proud that you managed to save a single chick by doing two very reckless things.” It was sarcastic as all hell, but you’d take the praise when you could get it.

“Thanks babe.” You said and he shook his head.

“This doesn’t explain how you ended up with a gash on your thigh.” He said and looked down at your legs, “Or why your legs have dirt on them…and probably future bruises forming.”

“Well, so the nest was home to an eagle! Can you believe it? It was very majestic looking as it began flying back to its babies.” You said, then you let out another hiss as he swiped a disinfectant of some kind over your wound. As if the alcohol wasn’t enough…

“Don’t mind me, continue your story.” He said and you got a sense he was almost amused now.

“Well apparently mama eagle wasn’t happy I was spending time with the babies because she swooped in to attack me. Obviously my natural reaction to an eagle coming for my throat was to flinch back. Sadly it caused me to fall from the tree and as I fell, I managed to catch my leg on a piece of the fence that was jutting out…thus ending in my giant gash and forming bruises.” You finally confessed.

You felt like an idiot, but honestly how were you supposed to know that would happen? You just wanted to save a baby chick that had fallen. Then BOOM! Eagle attack. To make matters worse you had fallen right on your ice cream and the concoction splattered all over your white jacket (alongside your blood since you used your jacket in an attempt to stop the bleeding) so you ended up just tossing them both away in shame.

You watched Zayne grab the needle that had the lidocaine in it and flicked it a few times to get the air pockets out, “And how, pray tell, did you get to the hospital? If the ambulance brought you in, you would’ve been treated in the ER right away. Since we’re having this conversation, it’s clear you didn’t make the right decision.”

“An ambulance would’ve been overkill.” You said and the look Zayne gave you said otherwise, “I just walked here. It’s only a few miles and the day was beautiful.”

Zayne could feel his eye begin to twitch at your lackadaisical response, “You walked miles with an injured leg that needed stitches. Did nobody try to stop you when they saw you trailing blood everywhere?” Oh he was a bit upset by this.

“Well people on the highway are normally like super busy and not looking at random people walking on the side of the road.” You said and Zayne seemed to be trying really hard to keep his cool at the moment. He wanted to properly scold you and tell you how stupid you had been; his worry wanting to turn to anger, but he held himself back. He didn’t want to lash out with emotions when he was trying to treat you as a patient. 

“Of course, you just casually walked on the side of a busy highway where a car might’ve hit you.” He couldn’t help but say in almost disbelief at the lack of self awareness. How he managed to fall for you was a mystery. He did absolutely adore you, but moments like this would only cause his hair to gray faster.

Zayne took the shot, carefully placing it on the edge of your gash and began injecting you with the medication. You let out a hiss of pain, the sensation being horribly uncomfortable. You held as still as you could though, wanting to tear up a bit from how bad it stung going in and watching as he moved it around wasn't helping.

“Are you making it hurt a lot because you’re mad at me?” Your voice came out in a dejected whine. Zayne had just pulled back the needle when he looked at you. He gave you a tired smile, his hand going to rub at the non-injured area of your leg.

“I apologize for the discomfort, but you should know that no matter how upset I am with you, I would never do something to cause you intentional pain like that.” He said, his hand feeling cool against your hot skin. It helped numb the pain, and as the medication slowly began working the entire area was numb to…everything.

You were surprised by how fast it worked, and even more surprised by how fast Zayne worked. He was already getting ready to stitch your leg up and you looked over at him with a cheeky grin.

“If you’re gonna sew up my leg, can you make a heart shaped design for me?” You teasingly asked.

“I’m a doctor, not a seamstress.” He said as you watched him grab the threaded needle and pressed it against your skin. As soon as it was about to go into your leg, you looked away. There was no way you’d be fine with watching him put a needle through your body.

It doesn’t take long for him to finish with the stitches, leaning back in his chair to check it over. You look down as well, a bit off put by stitches but at least it was going to heal properly.

Zayne began cleaning the wound and then grabbed the gauze, tapping your thigh to lift up as he wrapped it carefully. Once it was all wrapped up (sadly without a neat little bow like you requested) Zayne ran a finger gently over it.

“Does that feel better, darling?” he asked and you smiled, loving the nickname and nodding.

“Yes sir, feels a million times better…but I also can’t feel it at all so that might be why.”

“It’ll most likely feel sore and ache for the next few days. I’ll make sure to pick you up some painkillers from the pharmacy before we head home.” He said, going to take off his gloves and move the tray away from you.

“Thank you, doctor.” You finally said. Despite all your teasing, you really were happy he was the one treating you. You always felt the most comfortable when he was in charge of your care, after all.

Zayne looked over at you, adjusting his glasses on his nose and tilting his head, “Don’t think you’re off the hook. I haven’t forgotten what you did.” He said and you huffed.

“Now why did you have to say that?” You murmured, watching as he went over to his desk. He began typing things up on his computer, looking through some files it seemed. Once he saw what he needed, he clicked his tongue.

“We can discuss your actions when we get home.” he said, looking you over, “For now I’ll need you to wait here. I need to grab some things. It seems you’re due for a tetanus shot, and with your most recent endeavor of getting cut on a metal fence, I think now is the best time for it.”

“Wait…a shot?” You groaned, “Oh you’re mad, mad.” The accusation fell on deaf ears as he was already heading out the door. 

With another huff, you crossed your arms and looked at the clock. After only five minutes you decided you had enough and got on wobbly feet. You could barely feel your thigh still so it made it awkward, feeling almost like you were walking with a partially dead leg.

Still, you limped with purpose and eventually got to Zayne’s large desk. You didn’t care much for all the paperwork; most of it was medical jargon that went well over your head. No, you were curious about if he kept some of your gifts.

You opened up one of the drawers, smiling as you saw a sticky pad with little pears on it being the first thing in sight. You also saw a handful of pens that doubled as flowers. You felt all warm and fuzzy seeing how the items were clearly well used. 

Then you heard the door open.

You froze in place, staring at Zayne who was carrying a few items. You two made eye contact for a moment and he only sighed, shaking his head. It wasn’t like you could run away from him. You watched him close the door behind him and it clicked as it locked.

He walked over to you, placing the shot down on his surprisingly clean desk. He towered over you in that moment, making you feel small yet again. He went over, lifting you gently as he paid attention to your newly wrapped leg.

Your ass met the cool wood of his desk as he sat you on top of it, “Can’t you behave for five minutes?” He asked and you looked away to avoid eye contact.

“I wanted to see where you kept the candy…” You murmured, as it was half true. You didn’t want to admit you were checking to make sure he didn’t toss out your little gifts.

“Next drawer over.” He said and you looked over to see his hand grazing the edge of the desk, opening the drawer and grabbing the candy, “However only good patients get it. If you behave for your shot, I’ll give you a piece.”

You knew him damn well, he’d give you a mint no matter what happened. He was always a sucker for spoiling you, even when you were acting up and being a total brat.

“Alright, Dr. Zayne. I’ll be good.” You huffed, looking at the delicately wrapped mint in his hand. He placed it next to you, then went to grab his supplies. You watched patiently as he cleaned an area on your good thigh then grabbed the needle.

Once again, you can’t look at the needle as it goes into you. However, this time the feeling was so much worse. You cursed under your breath, your hands going to Zayne’s shoulders to grip onto for some stability. Thankfully Zayne didn’t falter as he finished up, taking the needle out and placing it next to you.

His gloves hand goes to rub soothing circles over the area in apology, before he grabs a plaster and places it on top where a small bead of blood was already trying to come out of.

“Are you alright?” He asked finally and you grumbled under your breath.

“Ya…” Your hands tightened on his shoulders, not wanting him to leave, but also being a bit upset at all the pain you had endured because of your antics. It wasn’t fair, why couldn’t you do stupid things without consequences?

One of Zayne’s hands cupped your chin, forcing your face up to look up at him, “You need to be more careful in the future, understood? You got off lucky with only a few stitches this time.”

A small whine comes from the back of your throat, your cheeks reddening at his proximity. Your eyes couldn’t help but glance down at his lips for a second before going back to his eyes.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Zayne as he leaned down, giving you a short and sweet kiss before parting. His lips found your cheek next, then your other, then finally your forehead. He leaned his forehead against your own as he looked at you.

“Let me finish up some of my paperwork then I’ll take you home. I don’t need you walking on this leg right now.” He said and you pouted. Who knew how long it would take for him to do all that paperwork, “I promise it won’t take long.”

“Fine…but do I get a reward when we get home for being so good?” It didn’t go unnoticed by you that Zayne was practically between your legs as he leaned over you. Your pants were still on the table across the room, and you desperately wanted him to just kiss you properly this time. You wanted to be gasping for air by the time he parted from you.

Zayne paused, noticing the current predicament before smirking. His hand left your chin, instead going to box you between his desk and body. He leaned closer, pressing his lips near your ear.

“You want to know what I’m going to do to you later?”

You shivered at his suddenly husky voice, your hands grasping onto the lapels of his lab coat. You bit your lip, feeling suddenly hot in your own skin.

“I’m going to have you lay in bed and make you drink plenty of water and rest while your leg heals.” He whispered in your ear.

You let out an annoyed groan as his body left your own, standing at full height as he went to begin cleaning. “That wasn’t sexy at all.” You complained.

“Falling from a tree and gashing your leg open is also rather…unsexy.” He said and you groaned, a small smile spreading on your lips. Touché Zayne, touché.

“Okay can we at least stop by and get ice cream on the way back, then cuddle on the couch while we watch a movie tonight? I think I deserve extra cuddles for the pain I’ve had to endure.” You said with a small pout.

“I find those terms to be rather agreeable. It’s a date.” He settled on. You giggled as he picked you up from his desk and took you back to the examination table. He placed you on a clean spot and handed you your pants.

Sometimes dating a doctor has its perks.

Sadly dating a spiteful doctor had plenty of downsides as you later learned that night. You, curled up against his chest, as he puts on a movie for you two to watch. A documentary…on eagles.

[beneathashadytree]

ACCIDENTAL (AND FIRST) IN-CALL “I LOVE YOU” - GREYSON X OC

Warnings : none that I can think of!

Genre : fluff and puppy love☹️🫶🏽

Additional notes : Aaaand here comes my second Greyson commission made by the lovely @dawnbreakersgaze who has converted us all to Greysonism🙏🏽 I keep thinking what mannerisms and texting quirks I’d like to give him, but since we can’t text him and make sure of that in-game, I settled on just showing his unique personality through the actual content of the SMAU😋💗 Sorry for not responding to my DMs and messages at the moment!! I’m still fresh on the road to full recovery and have lots of delayed paperwork to fill out for my patients😵‍💫

Commissions are open here!

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[winterstelltales]

Toothache [zayne x dentist!reader]

word count: 1k content: fluff, toothaches, dentist!reader, established relationship notes: no proof reading

Despite him devouring sweets like he’s on a personal mission to bankrupt every candy store, Zayne usually did his best to take care of his oral hygiene. But even then, he couldn’t escape the fallout from all the sugar he inhaled.

Acrually his day was super awful. First, he had to wake up with a horrible toothache, then he had to drink his coffee without sugar. And the large banner placed outside his favorite café announcing the new sweets definitely wasn’t helping either. He almost had pulled over, but the constant ache on the side of his mouth had made him stop. 

The hospital staff was quick to notice his unusual silence. It wasn’t that he talked a lot, but still it was noticeable when he had been communicating with nothing but head nods and shakes all day. It was only Greyson who was brave enough to ask him what was going on. 

“Just a toothache,” Zayne had dismissed their concerns as he walked towards to the ward.

Zayne hoped the pain would fade away by the end of the day. 

His assistant stopped in his tracks, watching him walking out, “Didn't he just visit the dentist last week?” 

It didn’t.

So now he was reluctantly making an appointment to the dentist after his shift. His hand hovering over the call button, nervously recalling the warning he had gotten from a certain person a week ago.

It wasn’t that he was afraid to go the dentist, okay, maybe a bit, but the real reason behind his hesitation was his dentist—his lovely fiancé—who was actually very sweet and considerate... until he consumed ungodly amounts of sweets, despite her warnings, and somehow managed to get two toothaches a week apart.

“Good evening, you've reached Akso Dental Clinic. How may I assist you today?” the familiar voice of the receptionist drifted through the receiver.

“Hello Miss Chen, it’s Zayne,” he cleared his throat slightly, “I need to make an appointment, is she available?”

There’s a small silence on the other side, Zayne tapped his pen on the table, the soft sounds echoing in the quiet room.

“Dr. Zayne! Yes of course, you're in luck, there was a cancellation this afternoon,” the receptionist said cheerfully. "Would you like me to book you in for that time?”

“Yes please, thank you.”

He ends the call after confirming the time, his thumb coming up to rub the side of his cheek.

Soon enough the call he dreads comes in. The ringtone he had set specifically for you breaks the silence of his office. Yet a smile appears on his lips as he sees your face light up the screen.

“Are you serious?” was the first thing he hears when he answers the phone.

he thinks you sound like an angry kitten, the corners of his mouth quirks up as he speaks.

“About marrying you? Yes I am.” 

“You!” There’s a huff on the other side of the line, and he chuckles, “That’s not what I meant. What do you mean by another appointment? It hasn’t even been a week!”

“Actually it’s been—” 

“Stop right there mister, I swear you’re in deep trouble,” Zayne listens as you speak, imagining you walking around your office as you lecture him. 

It feels weirdly refreshing, the roles reversed, where he’s the one getting lectured about his health, and Zayne can't help but agree with everything you say. His heart warms at the sound of your voice, angry yet worried over him. 

“You better be here right on time, and don’t you dare consume even a single granule of sugar during that time,” you warned, your tone firm.

“Yes ma’am” Zayne nods, even though you can’t see.

The elevator ding as he arrives on your floor and the receptionist looks up almost immediately, a bright smile plastered on her lips as she opens her mouth to speak.

“You can go right in, Dr. Zayne,” She says, motioning towards the treatment room.

Zayne stops in front of the room, staring at your name displayed on the surface before knocking twice.

“Come in,” Your voice sounds muffled from the other side of the door.

Zayne steps into the bright room, the familiar sterile smell of antiseptic invading his nose almost immediately. His eyes settle on you, sitting on the chair wearing your pristine white coat. 

You raised your eyebrow at him, swiveling your chair so you can see him clearly, “Come and sit down.”

Zayne’s mouth twitched as he walked toward you. Seeing you so bossy and serious was a rare sight, and he wanted to savor every moment. It was amusing, to say the least. 

He didn’t realize he was staring at your face until you spoke.

He looked at the chair, looming in the middle of the room, looking too comfortable to be trusted, its cushioning is almost inviting, but he knew better. He laid down, eye squinting at the bright light pouring right down at him.

He saw your eyes softening and watched as you slightly adjusted the light away from his face.

“What?”

Zayne narrowed his eyes and glanced at the closed door, then grabbed your wrist, pulling you a bit closer.

“Is this doctor always rude to her patients?”

You scoffed, prying his fingers off your wrist and poked his cheek, making him hiss lightly.

“Only to the disobedient ones.”

You laughed softly as his lips formed a small pout. 

“Open your mouth, please,” you watched as he obediently did as you asked. During the next few minutes you carefully examined him, all the while trying hard to ignore his eyes glued to your face, following every one of your movements. 

“You don’t have to stare at me so intensely, you know," You said as you slowly took out the small metal mirror out of his mouth. Zayne stretched his jaw, trying to relieve the ache from having his mouth open for so long before replying, “What if I want to?”

He watched as a small flush crept up your neck, disappearing beneath your mask. You looked away, clearing your throat as you gathered your tools next to you.

“So what is it?” Zayne asked, eyeing the neatly arranged tray beside you.

“Well, it doesn’t look too bad, but I can tell your sweet tooth has been working overtime,” You answered him while giving him a pointed look, “The sensitivity you’re feeling is likely from overindulging in sugary treats, it’s just your enamel taking a hit.”

You spoke as you walked towards him again, “For now, I’ll apply a fluoride varnish to help protect your enamel and reduce sensitivity. Then we can have a chat about your sweet tooth after we get home.”

Zayne closed his eyes as you leaned over him, while a noise, suspiciously close to a whine, escaped his throat. 

“All done,” You gave a pat on his cheek, leaning back and signalling him to clean himself up.

Zayne rubbed his jaw with fingertips, straightening himself up on the chair. He watched as you walked back to your desk and cleaned up some files on it before removing and hanging your coat on the hanger. 

“You’re done for the day?”

“Yup,” You turn towards him as he throws his long legs to the side, sitting on the chair upright, “you’re my last patient.”

“Okay,” You smile softly, threading your fingers softly in his black strands before pulling his hair back, making him stare up at you, “but one condition.”

“I’m very lucky then,” Zayne says, extending his hand towards you. You grab his hand, and he immediately pulls you in, wrapping his arms snuggly around your waist. He buries his face in your stomach, breathing in before speaking in a muffled tone, “let me take you out tonight.”

“Hm?”

You lean closer to him and quickly flicks his forehead, “That’s your punishment, and no dessert,” you whisper before pecking his lips softly.

[soulofapatrick]

Whispers in the Night - Greyson Hawthorne x Reader

Summary: You and Greyson are in a secret relationship and one night leads to you two deciding you want to tell to everyone

Words: 3.7k

Warnings: Smut (p in v); fingering

Notes: I hope this is what the anon who requested Greyson spice was looking for! feedback is always welcome

Y/N’s POV

I had been living in the Hawthorne mansion for a few years now, ever since I was taken in by that man - Tobias Hawthorne - and became a part of their peculiar everyday. Adjusting to this new life had been a whirlwind, and I fund myself spending most of my time with Greyson Hawthorne, the enigmatic and brooding second eldest. His charm, mysterious aura and those smouldering grey eyes never failed to captivate me. 

Our relationship had evolved beyond friendship over those years. The intense chemistry between us was undeniable, and there was an unspoken understanding that went beyond words. We would steal secret glances when no one was looking, share playful smiles and engage in conversations that would leave our hearts racing. 

In the dead of night, we would meet in secluded corners of the mansion, hidden away from prying eyes. The library, the conservatory, the labyrinthine hallways – they all became the backdrop of our secret rendezvous. It was in these stolen moments that our connection deepened. We would talk about our hopes, fears, and dreams, laying bare our souls under the moon's gentle gaze. Our relationship flourished in stolen kisses, tender touches, and lingering embraces that spoke of longing and desire. Greyson's lips were a temptation I couldn't resist, and his kisses left me breathless, wanting more. Each stolen moment we shared was a testament to the powerful attraction between us, the magnetic pull that we couldn't ignore. 

Tonight was a sleepless night for me, I tossed and turned in my extravagant bedroom, unable to shake off the unsettling feeling that something was missing. A quiet longing had settled within me, leaving me restless and uneasy. My heart raced as I contemplated what to do, and before I could overthink it, I’m slipping out of bed. 

With determined steps, I navigate the familiar corridors of the mansion, avoiding the creaky floorboards that could betray my late-night escapade. My destination was always clear in my mind, even though I had never shared my intention with anyone. My heart pounds in my chest as I stand before Greyson’s bedroom door, hesitation for a moment.

What if I wake him? What if he’s not alone tonight? These thoughts whirl in my mind, but the pull is too strong to resist. I press my ear to the door, straining to catch any sign of movement or sound within. Only silence greets me. Taking a deep breath, I slowly turn the handle and let myself inside. 

As I enter Greyson’s room, I find hi at his desk, bathed in a gentle, silvery light of the lamp on his desk. He’s engrossed in a book, his attention fixated on the pages, and he doesn’t immediately notice my presence. His incredibly handsome features are illuminated by the gentle glow of the lamp, his tousled light blond hair catching the subtle highlights. His strong jawline and intense gaze remains fixe on the words before him. 

I watch in fascination, my heart pounding, as he flips a page with careful deliberation. His long fingers gracefully turn the parchment, and I can see the slight crease in his brow, evidence of the concentration he pours into his reading. His sharp cheekbones cast captivating shadows in the soft light, and the subtle curve of his lips hold an unspoken story, a secret that only I seem to know. 

The room is filled with the scent of old books and the quiet rustling of pages, a backdrop to Greyson’s solitary world. The way he immerses himself in the story, the way his grey eyes dart across the text, absorbing every word, it’s as if nothing else exists for him in this moment. 

A sense of  vulnerability washes over me as I stand in the doorway, feeling like an intruder in his private sanctuary. Yet, that same vulnerability is what makes me yearn for him more intensely. I long to be a part of his world, to share in his passions, to be the one who captures his attention in a way that no book ever could. 

The room remains silent, save for the soft rustling of pages as I approach Greyson's desk. My footsteps are a mere whisper, barely registering in the dimly lit space. When I reach his desk, I extend a hand and rest it gently on his shoulder, my touch a delicate caress meant to draw him away from the written world and into the reality of our desires. Greyson’s pale gray eyes, bordering on silver, finally lift from the pages, and they lock onto mine. There's a glimmer of surprise, quickly giving way to a slow, sensual smile that sends a thrilling shiver down my spine. The air between us is charged with unspoken longing, and in that moment, the world outside ceases to exist. 

His book is placed aside with deliberate care, his attention now fully on me. Greyson pushes his chair back just enough to allow me to straddle him. As I settle onto his lap, his hands, strong and confident, find my hips, their warmth a contrast to the cool, silvery light that bathes the room. 

The gray of his eyes darkens, deepening with an intensity that mirrors the desire building between us. We’re locked in unspoken understanding, the energy in the room palpable. I lean in, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss, our connection deepening as our tongues dance in the silvery glow, and the lines between our desires and the mysterious world we live in blur, fading into the background. 

The moment our lips meet, it’s as if a spark ignites, setting us both ablaze with a feverish, pent-up passion. Greyson’s mouth is warm and inviting, and the taste of his desire is an intoxicating elixir. As our tongues entwine in a fervent, hungry dance, a fiery heart simmers within me, spreading like wildfire through my veins.

His hands on my hips are a potent combination of strengths and gentleness, guiding me and holding me close. The tension between us is palpable, the weight of our shared longing making each touch, each caress, feel charged with electric energy. I feel his desire growing beneath me, a firm, urgent need that matches the favour of my own. 

Our kiss deepens further, becoming a passionate symphony of desire and yearning. The lines between our desires and the enigmatic world of the Hawthorn mansion blur into nothingness. In this stolen moment, we are bound by our love, our insatiable attraction, and the silvery glow of the room, casting shadows that echo the secrets we’ve kept hidden for far too long. 

Finally, Greyson breaks the kiss, his lips parting from men with a sated smile that speaks of longing fulfilled. His hands find their way back to my hips, and with a strength that leaves me breathless, his lifts me from his lap. As he stands, carrying me effortlessly, the silver light dances around us, adding an almost ethereal quality to the moment. 

He gently places me down on the bed, and before I can react, Greyson is hovering over me, his desire and intensity palpable. Our eyes lock, a connection unspoken yet deeply understood, and I see the same longing mirrored in his grey-silver orbs. His hands slip under the fabric of my pyjama shirt, his touch feather-light as his fingers trail softly up my sides. With each delicate caress, he raises the fabric, his intent clear. As my shirt gradually slides upwards, he helps me pull it over my head, leaving me exposed and vulnerable under the silvery glow. 

Once the shirt is discarded, Greyson looks down at me, his gaze intense and filled with desire. His eyes, a mesmerising blend of grey and silver, seem to devour every inch of me, as if I am a forbidden treasure he’s longed to explore. As I lay there, exposed, a shiver of vulnerability washes over me. It’s as if I should hide, cover myself up, but Greysons intense gaze holds me in place. His eyes roam my body with an intensity that makes my heart race. 

I can feel his desire, his longing, and it’s both electrifying and terrifying. But then he’s speaking, his voice a soothing balm to my insecurities, “You’re so beautiful,” He says, his words a declaration that carries more weight than mere compliments, “Every single part of you is perfection.” 

In that sublime moment, bathed in the soft embrace of silvery light, my heart leaps with joy as Greyson and I share a profound and deeply intimate revelation. It's the very first time we've allowed those three powerful words to slip from our lips, unburdened by the secrets we've held for far too long. This utterance isn't merely a declaration of love; it's a testament to the extraordinary bond that transcends the confines of the enigmatic world we inhabit. 

Greyson, overcome with the same emotions that swirl within me, leans down, his lips capturing mine in a passionate and loving kiss. The connection we share is ignited with a heat that mirrors the years of desires we’ve harboured. Our moths meld together in a passionate dance, a promise of unquenchable love and longing. His hands, like explorers of undiscovered territory, glide along my bare skin, leaving a trail of electric sensations in their wake. I gasp into the kiss, each touch a testament to his unwavering affection, every caress a confirmation of the intense desire that binds us. 

As we lose ourselves in our passionate kiss, the air around us becomes heavy with longing, and I can feel the undeniable proof of Greyson’s desire pressing against my thigh. His hips grind down against mine, creating an exquisite friction that leaves no room for doubt about mutual want. My hands slide up his shoulders and into the soft tufts of hair at the nape of his neck while he leans on his elbows, the rough pad of his thumb caressing my cheek and a look of adoration crossing his face. It makes me feel shy and I’m flushing which has him leaning down and capturing me in another sweet and loving kiss that leaves me breathless. The kiss is slow and gentle, filled with tenderness and affection as we try to express what we can’t say. My body relaxes under his, feeling his body against mine and feeling how fast his heart is beating as he nibbles at my bottom lip

“I am so in love with you,” He murmurs, voice low and rich, barely above a whisper and has my breath catching in my throat at those words. His gray eyes are filled with honestly and love and it all feels so cliche as it feels like the rest of the world fades away. I’m having to clear my throat before I choke out those three words back, my heart swelling with happiness and love for this man hovering over me. 

He’s kissing me again, deepening the kiss as his hands move from my face to my hips, fitting perfectly in the dips as if his hands were made to sit there. As if my body was sculptured just for him and his hands, the way his fingers dip into the waistband of my panties with a silent question that has me lifting my hips for him. They’re on the floor with my shirt in seconds and his fingers, long and elegant are ghosting over my already soaked heat, gathering the arousal on them before circling my clit gently. A whimper of his name escapes my lips which he swallows in a searing kiss, fingers moving faster against my clit as his mouth drags hot and open mouthed kisses down my neck. 

“G-Grey…” I’m tugging at his shirt and jeans, needing him more than I ever could imagine. He soothes me, his mouth hot against my skin as he trails them down my neck. His teeth scraping against the skin as he sucks bright purple hickeys into it, as if he no longer cares about the secrecy of our relationship. As if he wants everyone to know I’m his and his alone and oh fuck, my head is falling back to hit the pillows in bliss. 

“Fuck baby,” He’s whining, pressing himself flush against me and capturing me in another breathtaking kiss, this one wanting more and it doesn’t take long for me to tangle my hand in his hair and tug experimentally. The breathy moan he lets out has me tugging harder, wanting to hear more and his hands grip my hips tightly, “You keep doing that…”

Before I can fully process the fervour of our intimate moment, Greyson’s urgency propels him off the bed. In a swift, almost effortless motion, his clothes begin to fall to the floor., revealing the breathtaking sight of his naked form in front of me. 

As he stands there, his pale skin is flush with desire and hear, an exquisite canvas brought to life under the silvery glow of the room. His every contour, every line, and every muscle are an embodiment of passion and yearning. The room seems to pulse with anticipation, mirroring the intensity of our desires. 

Lips are on my thighs, kisses scattering their way up, unshaved stubble burning the sensitive skin a little and as much as I’d love for him to eat me out, having seen the way he eats ice cream I need him. My hands reach for his blond locks, pulling him away from my aching core and back over me, drawing him for a slow and passionate kiss while wrapping my legs around his waist. He gets the hint, chest rising and falling quickly as he murmurs in my ear, “You need prepping baby.” It has me whining, back arching with need when he circles a pad of his finger around my wet heat. 

Any sound I make is swallowed by those addictive lips when he finally pushes a finger in, my walls immediately trying to clench around it and it draws a guttural sound from him. His lips trail down my neck and chest, teeth grazing my nipples before he’s sucking while beginning to move his finger inside me. All of it has my slamming a hand over my mouth as I try to stay quiet, especially when a second finger joins the first and he’s stretching me out. He’s rocking his hips into my leg, trying to be patient to make sure I’m comfortable but if he doesn’t stop soon I’m going to come

I know he can feel me fluttering around his fingers, a cheeky smile on his lips where they’re not biting another hickey into my skin, fingers curling and hitting that bundle of nerves that steals the air from my lungs. It’s as if he already knows my body with the way he has me teetering on the edge of bliss, my walls trying to keep him in and my thighs slamming shut around his arm. His thumb comes up to rub teasing circles into the hard bud and it has my body tensing as I cry our his name, wave after wave of ecstasy shuddering through my body and my mind blanks of everything except Greyson. 

“Grey… Fuck, Grey I need you.” I should feel embarrassed at how much I’m whining but the man is taking me apart like he knows my body and the way his lips curve into a small smile against my collarbone he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. His left hand finds mine as he teases me, his right hand reaching between us and grabbing his dick, his tip tapping against my clit a few times before he lines himself up. 

“Baby, are you sure?” He asks softly, pulling back enough to see my face and I’m nodding so fast I think I might get whiplash. I’ve never been so sure about anything else, needing Greyson here and now or I might die. It’s all the encouragement he needs to slowly begin to slide in, my eyes squeezing shut as he’s thicker than he could have prepared me for but he’s murmuring sweet nothings in my ear, lips ghosting my neck, “Shhh, shhhh, it’s okay baby I’ve got you sweetheart. It’s alright. Deep breaths. Relax baby girl. I’ve got you.” 

The whispers accompanied by his fingers gently working on my clit has me relaxing enough to accept him all the way, the moan he lets out when buried to the hilt makes me almost come again there and then. He holds himself still until the uncomfortableness turns into burning hot want and need and I’m cautiously rolling my hips against him, his gray eyes flying open to meet mine with a hungry look in them. He draws me into a hot and heavy kiss as he pulls out so just the tip is still in before he slides back in, filling me up and drawing whimpers and gasps from me. 

His other hands finds mine, holding both my hands either side of my head as my legs wrap around his hips to pull him in even further as he begins to gently rock his hips against mine. His body is pressed flush against mine as he captures my lips in such a gentle yet hot kiss, both of us gasping and moaning into the others mouth as he sets a slow and sensual pace. The coarse curls of his v-line catching my clit in such a way that has my legs tightening around him and my back arches as my hips roll to meet his slow thrusts. 

I can feel every bump and ridge against my walls with every pull out and his tip presses deliciously into that spongey spot every time he bottoms out. Low and guttural sounds rumble in his chest as our bodies shine with a thin layer of sweat, his tousled hair sticking to his forehead, pale skin flushing as he makes love to me. The sound of our panted breaths and soft whimpers and whines drowns out the sounds of the house staring and settling and all I can smell is Greyson, the earthy musk and woodsmoke clinging to him even after the shower I know he had earlier. It all adds to the slowly building tightness in my stomach and I’m moving my hips down to meet his, my back arching when he hits that sweet spot that has me seeing stars. 

“Grey… G-Grey…” I’m whining and his teeth are grazing my chin, adding to the pleasure as it feels like every fibre in my body is on fire, that coil tightening almost painfully as he drags against my g-spot with every thrust until I’m tensing up and my eyes roll back into my head. His hops begin snapping against mine, face buries in my neck and hands tightening on my hips where they’ve settled back to hold me in place as I ride out my high, thighs trembling, heels pressing into his back, nails digging half-moons into his shoulders and tugging almost painfully at his fluffy hair. 

“W-where-“ He’s gasping out a moan, his beginning to stutter and dick twitching against my walls, “Where can I-“ 

I’m cutting him off by wrapping my legs tighter around his hips, drawing him even deeper than either of us thought possible and that’s all it takes for Greyson to follow my climax. He pants against my neck, hips stuttering as he thrusts a few more times before he’s filling me up, teeth sinking into skin to muffle his moan before he’s collapsing on top of me and I’m untangling one hand from his to bring it to his hair. 

“I’m in love with you too.” I speak it so quietly I’m not sure he hearts it as he presses soft and loving kisses to my neck, his hips still moving in gentle circles of overstimulation against mine but then he’s pulling back enough to lean on his elbows over me, a beautiful smile gracing his face. 

“You’re mine darling.” He murmurs, voice low and rich and it sends a thrill though me as he slips out, standing to grab a bowl and clean us, a loving grin breaks out on his face. He’s grinning the while time he’s wiping away the mess sliding down my legs as I’m too spent and tired to move. He helps me into a pair of his boxers and a shirt of his that is baggy. My cheeks burn with an intense blush as Greyson stands there, his eyes locked on me with unwavering admiration. It's an intensity that sends a thrill down my spine, yet it also makes me feel exposed and vulnerable. The overwhelming attention becomes too much to bear, and I have to turn my body away, my embarrassment causing me to hide my face. 

With a tenderness that speaks of deep affection, Greyson climbs into the bed hind me. He moves with grace and strength that makes me feel safe and cherished. Gently, he rolls me over to face him, his touch as soothing as a whispered promise. His fingers caress my cheek, brushing my hair from my face, and in the soft silvery light, his gaze is a mixture of love and admiration. 

“You are so beautiful.” He reassures me, his voice low and filled with a depth of feeling that matches the emotions reflected in his eyes, “There's no need to hide. You are perfect just the way you are.” 

In his arms, under the embrace of the silvery glow, I feel a warmth that goes beyond physical desire. It’s the warmth of acceptance, of love, and the unbreakable bond we share. In this moment, we are free to be our true selves, shedding the masks we wear in the world outside. Our connection, marked by trust and affection, becomes more profound than ever, and I’m overwhelmed by a sense of belonging that has been a long time coming. 

“Can we tell the others?” I ask quietly, burying my face in his chest, feeling a warm rumble come from him. 

“I think we already did.” 

                           ┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

TAGS: New Tag List Form

The Inheritance Games Masterlist

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@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

[crispin-kreme]

the fear of loosing you ; zayne (love and deep space)

synopsis: you are rushed to the emergency room after suffering from a fatal injury from your mission, and this is not how zayne wanted to see you– not in the emergency room.

genre: angst, fluff at the end

pairings: zayne x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of blood and hospital setting, cursing (not so sure), grammatical errors

note: this is so rushed-LOL AHSHHAHA ok enjoy this is so ass but i love zayne sm THIS IS LONGER THAN I EXPECTED SO I HOPE YOU GUYS ARE WILLING TO READ THIS 🥹

tagging : @shikamiru <3

"clear!"

"page dr. zayne!"

"should we really- he'll not be able to handle this professionally seeing that his partner is the patient here"

"he's a professional! what do you mean?!"

the nurses whispered around, contemplating if they'd page dr. zayne. they weren't sure if he was going to lose it if he saw you in this emergency room. the room was filled with tension and stress. dr. greyson now raises his voice "just page him now! y/n's heart will fail at any moment now. they're losing a large amount of blood." he commanded.

dr. greyson needs to stop the bleeding as well but he needs zayne to take over with compressions.

"what seems to be the–"

his eyes, filled with shock. his breath hitches. zayne, for the first time, maybe in his life, he goes blank. he feels faint. he sees you on that hospital bed bleeding out. he sees dr greyson doing the compressions and other nurses helping him.

"zayne, get in here now!" dr. greyson grunts out. "i'll stop the bleeding. take over first with compressions" he adds. zayne rushes to take over "she needs a blood transfusion." zayne says, trying to keep calm. he grunts as he presses on your chest harder, trying to resuscitate you. zayne watches how your pressure is going down through the monitor.

he tries to keep his tears in "c-come on now." he grunts. zayne does his compressions harder until he feels your ribcage breaking from it. this was normal- he felt this most of the time but it was disturbing for him to feel it when it came to your body. that's when his tears fell. "hold on please" he whispers.

dr. greyson is able to prepare you for surgery. "zayne, can you do this operation?" dr greyson asks. but zayne kept going with compressions. "zayne, you'll break her ribcage even more." dr greyson says.

"zayne, snap out of it!"

he stops the compressions as they hook you to some life support. zayne looks at dr greyson, teary eyed. this was the first time someone has seen him like this. he was stressed, he was scared to lose you. dr greyson sighs "you're stressed. you won't do this srugery." he tells zayne. zayne feels his stomach churning as he sees you almost covered in blood.

zayne stays silent and there was no time to lose. dr greyson goes to the bed you lie at and readies you to go to the operating room. "let's go!" dr greyson commands. zayne watches them bring you to the operating room. he stays silent as he stood in place. he felt tears coming out of his eyes. he was deeply frustrated, he couldn't lose you.

zayne was pacing around his office. as it was already in the middle of the night, he wonders why the operation is taking long. suddenly, the door of his office opens and he stops at his tracks. it was dr greyson. he looks at the dr greyson, hoping for good news.

"how did the surgery go? are they well?" zayne asks hastily. dr. greyson sighs "it was complicated- they lost a lot of blood but they're alright now." he explains. zayne's eyes were filled with worry when he heard that it was complicated.

"what about their heart? their lungs?" he asks again, voice filled with worry. he remembers your injury from fourteen years ago, where you suffered a fatal injury as well. it affected your evol and your lungs (and so as your heart). dr. greyson sighs "zayne, they're alright. y/n's alright, okay?" he says.

dr. greyson speaks once more "i was hoping that you would do their post operation check." he says. zayne nods with no hesitation. "but may i see them already?" zayne asks. dr. greyson nodded "yes but- you have to rest. you've been up all night." he tells him. zayne shook his head "i'm used to it." he says and hurriedly leaves his office.

zayne walks to your room where you're confined. he feels his stomach dropped when he sees you. you were still unconscious, under the influence of the anesthesia and your body recovering. he rushes to the seat next to the hospital bed and he sits down.

he only stares. until tears fell from his eyes.

"i told you not to attend that mission. it would be bad for your health." he mutters under his breath. he wipes his tears. zayne stands up and leans in to give you a kiss on your forehead. "i shall be here when you wake up. get some rest, my love." he whispers, trying not to cry again.

did he go home? no. he stayed at his office, waiting for a page from the nurses that you've woke up or waiting for the sun to rise so he can check up on you.

his morning rounds came and he didn't get the slightest blink of sleep. zayne enters your room and you were still unconscious. he does his usual work. he checks the iv drip, he checks the heart monitor, and he checks your vitals.

zayne only sighs and sits on the chair that was beside your bed. he strokes your hair slowly, "you seem to be having a good sleep." zayne remarks. he couldn't help but tear up again. he sighs and takes his glasses off as his tears fell down again. he gently grabs your hand and holds it to his cheek.

he sinks into the warmth of your palm. his tears were still cascading down his face. "please wake up." he says, almost pleading. he stays in silent sobs. "i don't think i can handle a day with you like this." he says in between sniffles.

you feel his tears on your palm. you stirr in your sleep like state. zayne notices this and puts your hand down but still holding onto it. he watches your eyes flutter.

everything was a blur to you but you see zayne beside you. you squint your eyes for a bit "z-zayne?" you called out. zayne is overjoyed, he really is.

and he shows it- this was rare of him. he wanted to burst out in tears again. "oh god- y/n? you're awake" he says. you nod at him. zayne comes closer to observe you. "i-it hurts." you stuttered out. he nods at you "i know, i know. but you're okay now. everything's alright." he says in a hush tone.

you noticed how puffy his eyes were and how tired looking he was. "zayne, i'm alright." you said to him with a smile. your hand went to zayne's cheek once more. your thumb brushes his face. he feels this again "i thought i would loose you." zayne says as he closes his eyes, feeling your warmth again.

"i'm not going anywhere." you tell him "i love you." you blurted out.

he opens his eyes and looks at you lovingly, "i love you too."

[xvysarene]

𝕌𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝔹𝕠𝕟𝕕

Pairing: Zayne x Fem!Reader Prompt: “I’ve built walls, and yet they crumble when I see you.” Words: ~2.5k Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff Notice: Y/N is not MC, Antagonist MC, Mentions of wounds

[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

His childhood friend exuded energy just as vibrant as her Anhausen class Evol, captivating those around her with her bubbly demeanor.

However, beneath the cheerful façade lay a calculated use of charm, a trait you couldn't help but notice, especially in her interactions with Zayne.

As a senior hunter, your responsibilities included supervising new recruits, and you discerned her manipulative tendencies over time.

“Just because you've seen me at my weakest, you’re not entitled to pass judgment on those dear to me. It proves how I've known her longer and better, as she would never stoop so low as to speak ill of you. I don’t need you babysitting me.”

Quick to defend his adored friend and seemingly caught up in emotion, he voiced those unfavorable words your way.

You knew Zayne was a direct person, but being on the receiving end of those words hurt. Especially as you later realized that you harbored feelings towards the cold doctor, feelings that had unknowingly woven into what you had always believed to be a purely platonic friendship between the two of you.

“—and you’re here because?”

His voice jolted you out of your reverie.

Somehow, standing in the exact spot where your last conversation occurred, resulting in months of silence between the two of you, had clouded your thoughts.

You cleared your throat, trying to focus back on the present moment. “Greyson and Yvonne have been trying to get in touch with you.”

When news about Dr. Zayne taking recuperative leave had spread like wildfire throughout the UNICORNS, you had considered reaching out to him. 

Your fingers had hovered over the phone, composing and deleting messages repeatedly.

In the end, you completely abandoned the notion altogether when you heard his childhood friend’s not-so-subtly mentioning her plan to visit and cook for him while chatting with the short-haired girl from the Data Analysis sector.

“I’m fine,” he managed to huff out after a while.

Taking a swift glance at the unexpected mess on his kitchen counters—scattered papers and remnants of food packaging—you challenged him. “I thought we had moved beyond the superficial ‘I’m fine’ responses when asking about each other's well-being.”

Zayne didn’t reply and you noted that he had absentmindedly leaned his long legs against the kitchen counter as if seeking support from it.

“You, the Chief Cardiac Surgeon of Akso Hospital, someone who enjoys his lack of free time, couldn't possibly have felt ‘just fine’ after being placed on recuperative leave.”

“I wasn't aware that you still kept tabs on my whatabouts," he retorted, eyes slightly gleaming competitively. However, they lacked the usual spark; instead, they hinted at tiredness and something indefinable that looked familiar but you couldn't quite pinpoint.

“I understand that your friend has probably visited you, but my great buddies insisted I come and check on you. They didn’t want to pester, but after two days of no answer, they are beginning to worry.” You raised your hands in a gesture of surrender. “Though if I’m not welcome, I’ll leave you be.”

As you moved past him towards the front door, you felt yourself emotionally drained from the brief exchange.

“Why you, specifically?” his whisper caused you to stop in your tracks.

“They know we are—” you stopped yourself, “used to be each other’s confidant. They thought you might be willing to speak to me if not to them.”

He chuckled dryly. “Used to…”

His muttered words compelled you to turn. Your hunter’s awareness noticed how he had subtly shifted, leaning more against the counter with one hand supporting his weight while his body slightly hunched forward, facing your retreating figure.

His body trembled with involuntary shivers, and the silver-framed glasses that had been perched on his nose earlier now lay discarded on top of the black granite.

“What’s wrong?” The words spilled out of your mouth before you could stop them.

Your eyes instantly snapped to his arms, expecting to see the familiar bluish hue and the delicate, yet deadly patterns of ice crystals.

Instead, you saw fresh cuts on the back of his hand. Both of them.

A sound must have escaped your lips because Zayne quickly tugged at his light gray pajama sleeves, trying to cover his hands. He took a step back as he heard you stomping towards him.

Helplessly, he played a brief game of tug-of-war with you before yielding to your unexpected strength.

“What the hell,” you breathed out as you took the angry red marks marring his pale skin, making them stand out more. When you rolled up his sleeves further, you discovered fresh lacerations, a chilling reminder of the frost's icy grip.

You cupped his cheeks. It took his gaze a moment to gradually refocus on you, seemingly startled by the sudden skin contact. “Zayne, what happened?”

His lips were sealed shut. He began to resist, however, as you guided him towards his bedroom, but your hunter strength slightly won over his sluggish state.

Zayne watched you intensively check his wounds after you managed to get him to bed. They were more severe than the scratches you saw after you had cradled his frozen arms and succeeded in defrosting them using your Evol. It was when you found him beating himself up in regret for failing to save your partner during surgery.

As you stood up to fetch the medical supplies, his hand swiftly caught your forearm, surprising you with its speed. "You don’t have to take care of me," he insisted.

“Respectfully, Zayne,” you began, knowing he'd grimace at your next choice of words, “Fuck your pride and let me look after you.”

Seeing his familiar disapproving grimace at the brash word, you chuckled quietly to yourself. 

Your boldness and recklessness often clashed with his calm and collected nature, one that left people wondering how a friendship could blossom between two such opposites.

As the antiseptic scent filled the air and silence enveloped the room while you tended to his arms, memories flooded back to the griefful night when you had lost your partner.

He had treated your temporarily forgotten battle wounds after the frost had thawed from his arms.

“It’s not your fault,” Zayne had spoken softly as he cleaned your wounds.

Your breath stuttered, surprised by the doctor's attempt to console you. Many people regarded him as highly reserved due to the carefully crafted mask of indifference he wore.

"The other staff told me what happened. You couldn’t have known that he was bitten; a child Chlorostaga leaves a very small puncture, and it would only feel like an ant has bitten you. With adrenaline running high, he wouldn’t have felt a thing."

“He told me that his heart was racing unusually fast during the transport back,” you whispered, feeling the tears clouding your vision. “And I jokingly suggested he needed to do more exercise.

“He laughed at it until—” you forced down the bile rising in your throat before being able to continue, “until he suddenly collapsed from cardiac arrest. We were only a few minutes out before arriving here to treat our wounds.”

Zayne continued gently dressing your gashes as you recounted the last moment with your partner. “His last memory was of happiness with you, feeling fulfilled knowing he had once again protected Linkon City from Wanderers... With his trusted partner."

The tears you had struggled to contain finally broke through, cascading down your cheeks in torrents. He held you close that day, offering comfort until every tear was dried.

From that moment, a bond seemed to form between both of you, drawing you closer from mere acquaintances to individuals you could trust with your deepest emotions. Only a few had ever witnessed each other's vulnerable state.

In the present, you noticed his breathing had calmed, and the hazel eyes that had been watching you carefully moments earlier had closed as you finished tending the last cut.

Gently smoothing out the crease between his brows, you couldn't help but wonder how troubled he must have been. “I’ve built walls, and yet they crumble when I see you,” you whispered, afraid of him hearing your secret.

You had tried to shield yourself from future heartache after you slammed his front door the day he had spoken harshly. Yet, seeing him so vulnerable, your caring for him only deepened.

Listening to the rhythmic sound of his breathing, an unexpected exhaustion washed over you like a tidal wave.

Sleep claimed you swiftly, and it wasn't until you felt Zayne's gentle touch on your shoulder that you awoke.

“You’re going to strain the muscle in the back of your neck sleeping like that.”

Still groggy from the unplanned nap, you couldn’t protest as Zayne easily deposited you to the space he occupied earlier, as if you weighed nothing.

Your skin flushed hot feeling his fleeting touch behind your knees. Blinking, you met his gaze as he settled back beside your feet on the bed, already looking much better than before.

As the heat from his body permeated the wool blend of his pajama pants, you could feel it warming the tips of your toes. “Are you feeling any better?”

He nodded, casting a glance down at his arms adorned with scattered adhesive strips. Awkwardness filled the air as you both grappled with the ever-present unresolved tension.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled softly. You looked up, startled.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated more clearly. His hazel eyes, appearing browner under the dim lighting, seeking yours. “For saying those hurtful words to you, for failing to accompany you on mourning day.”

Your eyes widened, surprised that he even remembered about the day that had occurred months earlier.

When he didn’t appear at the cemetery of fallen hunters on mourning day, an annual tradition to honor your late partner whom he couldn't save, you learned just how much he cherished his childhood friend.

While he hadn't explicitly promised to join every year, he had always done so without fail. At that time, you couldn't help but feel disappointed when you discovered he had spent the day with his childhood friend instead.

And perhaps, an ugly thorn of jealousy had begun to bloom inside your heart.

“Greyson gave me an earful after he found out about our... conflict, and then he pieced together why I was absent that day. Why didn’t you remind me?”

You broke away from his gaze, not prepared for the sudden query. “You are under no obligation to accompany me, so there's nothing to apologise for.”

“I absolutely have to apologise, for on the day you mourn for your late partner the most, I callously had fun with my friend.”

And there it was, his childhood friend once again stealing the spotlight in your conversation. You felt the barriers you erected creeping back into place.

“It's getting dark outside, I should head home,” you said, retracting your legs and hurriedly standing up.

However, a warm hand on your wrist carefully pulled you back down, knee bumping with yours.

“I was ensnared by my memory of her innocence from our childhood,” he confessed, voice heavy with regret. “She envied the deep connection we share and after overhearing your conversation with Yvonne, purposefully suggested a day trip to our hometown that exact day. She exploited my weakness for her gain, knowing my fond memories of our past together.”

Zayne tenderly unraveled each of your tightly clenched fingers, soothing the nail marks that had etched into your palm.

It was one of your bad habits, surfacing whenever anxiety and stress took hold. Ever the observant person that he was, it was something he was well aware of.

Your breath hitched as he wove his fingers with yours, larger palm easily covering your smaller one.

“I'm the one who foolishly let myself be blinded and stooped so low, wrongly accusing you when your intentions were nothing but good-hearted.” He swiped a hand over his face in frustration. “People praised me for my good judgement, but I evidently failed to make the most important one.”

“And so this happened?” you gestured towards his arms with your other unoccupied hand. “Punishing yourself because you felt guilty for your lapse in judgment?”

She had heard bits and pieces of what happened from Greyson. The Chief Psychologist in the hospital had noticed Zayne’s peculiar behaviour for weeks—moments of zoning out and evident emotional distress.

Not wanting to jeopardise his patient’s health, he agreed to take a leave until he felt mentally prepared to return to his responsibilities, which required a clear mind above all else.

“No, it's me losing myself because I've taken advantage of the only person who understands me; to the extent of hurting that one person who, despite knowing her for a shorter time, has selflessly always been there for me.” He placed a kiss on the back of your hand. “And fearing I may have already lost her, as I come to realize the depth of my feelings for her.”

You whipped your head to fully face him, face flushed at his confession. His gaze unwavering, trapping you with fierce affection.

“You don’t need to say anything—”

“Zayne—”

“I just want to let you know that I’m sorry for causing you pain—”

“Zayne, I—”

“And I would understand if you don’t want to do anything with me again after everything that’s happened—”

"Zayne!" You moved to cover his mouth and lost your balance in the process, tumbling together onto the bed.

Him beneath you.

As you stumbled, his hand found the curve of your hip, supporting you from falling on top of him. While his other arm remained thrown over him, fingers still intertwined with yours amidst the sudden movement.

You could see him trying to mask his discomfort, no doubt feeling some of the deeper slashes being tugged.

“God, you really need to shut up sometime,” you blurted out, catching Zayne off guard with your abrupt remark following his heartfelt revelation.

This close, you could see his pupils dilating at your close proximity, almost consuming the green in his eyes.

With profound confidence and a fuzzy feeling spreading inside your heart, you eased his mind. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The content smile painting his lips tugged at your heart. It was a genuine happiness that chipped away his usual cold demeanor. 

He squeezed your hip and slowly urged you to lay on top of him, a silent invitation to be closer. Strong arms circled around as you nestled your head against his throat, enveloping you in his scent—grounding, and slightly musky, like the scent of a forest after rainfall.

“I never want you to lose control of your Evol over me again,” you warned him, eyes closing as you felt his lips pressing on your forehead.

“I can’t promise, but—” he interjected before you could interrupt him. “I’ll work on myself for the better. It’s the least I can do for the one who holds the dearest place in my heart.”

When you opened your eyes again, you could finally pinpoint that familiar glint in his eyes, the one you noticed when you confronted him hours earlier in the living room; it was endearment.

As you lay down on his bed that night, fingers gently combing through his tousled midnight-black hair as he rested against your chest, it dawned on you that the glow of affection had been there all along, subtly shimmering in his eyes throughout the years whenever you were by his side.

⤷ ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST