#(subtle)

[dinosaurwithablog]

Della Street does it all!! She's so much more than a secretary. Here, we see that she is also a great detective!! She's so subtle and efficient in getting the room number!! I love Della!! ❤️ Gorgeous and brilliant!! The perfect combination 😍

[sweetcalebb]

Zayne finding the hickeys he left !

⋆˚࿔

The room was quiet, a little too quiet given the fact that a colleague was currently reviewing a post-op complication that spiraled.

Zayne sighed, adjusting the cuffs of his coat. He was listening—or he was trying to, anyway.

But it was hard to focus when just hours earlier you were curled up against his chest, skin-to-skin. You were so tired, barely even half-awake when he accidentally woke you up while getting ready for work and you murmured a soft "good luck."

He shifted in his seat, quickly blinking, as if that might help him concentrate.

Then his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was barely noticeable. Probably because Zayne tended to ignore any personal texts at work. So he left it at that.

But then it buzzed again.

He let out a small breath through his nose before discreetly slipping his phone out of his pocket. It was just to silence his notifications, but when he saw your name, he paused.

Two new notifications.

Zayne's gaze drifted up, then back down. He shouldn't be checking his messages right now, but it was you. With a hesitant tap, he opened your messages.

You: Found your love bites

You: [1 image attached]

His breath hitched.

Hickeys.

Four, to be exact.

His eyes roved over the image, his chest suddenly too tight. Zayne was never one for carelessness. He didn't do things like this, especially when those things seemed so juvenile.

But he'd meant those.

Really meant them.

They weren't there for the sake of being there. No, they were deliberate, something he left behind because he wanted you to remember and that was unnerving.

It wasn't him. It wasn't the composed, rational doctor he'd worked so hard to make of himself. But in that moment, he couldn't help himself to the feeling of your skin between his teeth.

You were sweet. A little salty, too. The kind of combination that made it impossible not to go back for more.

He didn't regret it, he was sorry though.

You'd have to cover up your neck for a week. And God help him, something about that thought made his lips curl up with a smile.

It was barely there—just a soft, subtle smile, there nonetheless.

"Zayne."

He blinked, looking up and smoothly sliding his phone back into his pocket. "Yes?" The quiet smile he'd worn just seconds ago had slipped away, almost like it was never there in the first place.

"You're up."

Zayne cleared his throat. "Sorry,” he uttered, standing up and making his way to the front of the conference table, notes in hand.

You should've been long gone by now. Erased from his mind. He had a presentation for God's sake. But you were still there. Making his cheeks warm and his stomach turn.

<3

It'd been a long day.

Zayne stood outside your door now, one hand inches away from your door—debating whether to knock or not—and a small plastic bag with medical supplies in the other hand.

It was late. The smell of hospital still clung to his skin—clean, but not laundry clean. Sterile clean. Like gloves, soap, and a hint of antiseptic.

Zayne took a small breath, finally knocking against your door. He waited, his hand falling to his side. He didn't even tell you he was coming, just texted that he'd get back to you later.

Now he was here, uncharacteristically... nervous? It was hard to tell for what though. To see you maybe? Or maybe, to see the evidence of what you did to him?

Who knew.

His thoughts quickly melted away when you finally opened the door, looking just as soft as you did this morning. You were wearing a loose shirt you'd stolen from him a little bit ago, pj pants, and some fuzzy socks.

How were you always so... what was the word?—endearing?

Your eyes widened a fraction, raking over his form. "Zayne? What are you doing here? You didn't tell me you were coming."

"I know," Zayne answered, his gaze shifting to the bruises on your neck.

He inhaled sharply.

A quiet warmth bloomed in his chest. It was unbidden, unwelcome. But it was there, no matter how hard he tried to will it away.

He liked them too much.

Way too much.

Zayne cleared his throat quietly before holding the bag out. "I brought this for you."

You glanced down, taking the bag and pulling away from the door to let him in. "What is it?"

"Look inside."

You slowly closed the door behind him, then peeked into the small plastic bag. There was some sort of cream, a few instant cold packs, and a thin cloth.

You glanced back up. "Is this...?"

"For the hickeys." Zayne nodded, his voice quieter now.

You let out an airy laugh. "Zayne.. You didn't have to."

"No, but I wanted to." He gently brought his hand to the underside of your arm. "I'm the one who left them." His eyes drifted back to the purple marks, his chest tightening again.

He looked at you again. Waiting.

You smiled. "It's not a big deal. I can do it."

Zayne's grip on your arm tightened just slightly, almost like a silent plea. "Let me help you."

You hesitated for a second. You didn't mind the hickeys, so why was Zayne making such a big deal about it?

Still, it was hard to even think about rejecting his offer when he looked at you like that—with that odd mix of pleading and guilt and something else you couldn't place.

Eventually, you gave in with a sigh. "Fine."

"Thank you." Zayne guided you back to your couch, taking the cold pack and cloth out.

"It's not a magic fix," he murmured, squeezing the bag and shaking it lightly as he sat down beside you. "But it'll help." He wrapped the pack in the small cloth, then gently pressed it to your neck.

You hummed. "Thank you, Zayne."

He shook his head. "Don't thank me. I gave you these.."

He paused, the word just on the tip of his tongue. Why was this so hard to say? He was a doctor, not some boy who just learned how to leave a mark.

"Hickeys," he finished, his voice quiet.

For a moment, you said nothing. Just watched him, taking in the little furrow of his brows and the hard line of his lips.

Was he always so cute when he was guilty?

"You're cute," you blurted.

Zayne paused, his eyes snapping to yours briefly before going back to your neck. "I'm applying first aid."

"Mm. Cute." You smiled.

Zayne paused again, his lips twitching with a gentle smile. You made it impossible not to mirror the small gesture. How could he when you looked at him like that?

So sweet and soft.

For a brief—very brief—moment, he almost wished he wasn't trying to get rid of your hickeys right now. Wished he'd let them last a little longer.

Just almost.

a/n: sorry this one was longer 😔

[merzcom]

Explosionsstudien sw

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[drownedrow]

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[gothicfennic]

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if you can read the newspaper- No you cant.

Support me and this cringe uwu

https://ko-fi.com/gothicfennic

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

[blorbosrus]

I fucking love this song you can’t pry it out of my cold dead hands

[idkwhosdarcy]

Do i spy the bisexual flag in the back???? i understand what you're trying to say Charles

(Charles Leclerc Saudi Arabia 2025)

[merzcom]

spring time handmade flower cut collage mix dream 6

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[perhapsdong]

art dump

The amount of wips vs finished works are too much 💀💀💀