dreamtaehyung

[dreamtaehyung]

— m is for marking

it started with a soft lingering kiss to your shoulder. zayne’s hands gripped your waist tighter than usual as he pulled you into his lap, his hoodie draped over your bare thighs. his lips dragged up your throat, breath warm, voice low. “you smell like outside.”

you blinked. “what?”

“you were out,” he murmured. “with people.”

you laughed. “with my friends.”

his teeth grazed your neck. “you smiled at someone.”

“zayne—”

“and they looked at you like they didn’t know you were mine.” the shift in the air was immediate. his voice low and velvety, but his grip bruising. “should i remind them?”

you swallowed. “remind who?”

he didn’t answer. he pulled the neckline of your top aside, baring your shoulder, your collarbone, your neck. he kissed every inch with slow, aching reverence. then he bit, deep enough to leave a mark. your breath hitched.

zayne purred, eyes lidded. “that’s better.”

he did it again. and again. soft, wet kisses followed by tender bruises. like he was decorating you—neck, shoulders, hips—with pieces of his obsession.

“you like this?” he whispered.

you nodded, dazed. “yeah.”

“why?”

“because it’s you.”

that made him pause. something inside him cracked open. his lips trembled. “you let me mark you, like you want to be mine.”

“i am yours,” you breathed. “you don’t have to leave bruises to prove it.”

“i know,” he said. “but i want to.”

one more bite, just above your collarbone right where it’d peek above your shirt. zayne sucked the skin, lips soft, tongue warm. the bruise would bloom in hours. you moaned softly and his fingers flexed.

“mine,” he whispered again. “always mine. you have no idea how crazy you make me.”

you rested your forehead to his. “good.”

he smiled… and then bit you again.

[dreamtaehyung]

crave.

rafayel wants to smash but keeps getting interrupted

fluff and smut so mdni. 18+ only. dry humping. m masturbation. cunnilingus.

sylus version / zayne version / caleb version

Rafayel crawls on top of you, trapping you at the end of the couch as he drowns you in a deep kiss that had you gasping for air while his hands caresses your figure.

You grab him by the collars of his shirt to pull him close, and he eagerly dives in to your neck while his hips grinds against yours.

THUD.

At his action, the couch jolts and accidentally knocks over something nearby and suddenly, the white floor has been painted pink.

"....Oops!"

Rafayel laughs after watching his own bucket of pink paint spill to the floor.

"It's fine, we can clean it up later." He captures your chin with two fingers and gently redirects your gaze back to him.

As if in a trance, you leaned in to give him a kiss. Then, the very second your lips touched, you snapped out of it as you remembered Thomas will be coming in soon to check up on the paintings.

"No, wait! We have to clean this up now!"

"Wha — "

Too late. Rafayel sighs as you slip out of his grasp, disappearing to get the cleaning supplies to get rid of the mess he created.

Interrupted yet again for the third time this week. Somehow, everytime you two are getting intimate, something always happens to ruin the mood.

If this keeps happening...

He can only hope that you can forgive him for the way he'll be behaving.

Busy from work, you didn't get to see Rafayel again until two days later. From the minute you were off the clock, you met up with him at the beach.

He was lost in a thought, observing a sea shell on his hand, so you took the opportunity to surprise him by jumping on his back.

However, you end up being the one caught off-guard because Rafayel spun around at the very last moment and caught you right in his arms while your legs wrapped around his waist.

"Woooow, you missed me this much, cutie?"

"How did you know?! I was making no sounds at all!"

"I have special senses just for you." He grins. "That's why I can even hear what you're thinking."

"Liar."

"Nuh-uh."

"Tell me what I'm thinking about right now, then."

"Fine." Rafayel pauses and tilts his head as he stares at you with squinted eyes. "Right now, you're thinking.... you want to give me one million kisses to make up for the past two days when you couldn't see me."

"....wrong."

"Oh? So you don't want to kiss me?" You were immediately met with a pout. "So you don't love me anymore?"

"...I didn't say that...." You squished his cheeks and pressed your lips against his. "I don't want to give you one million kisses. I want to give you two million kisses."

And Rafayel made sure that he'd get every single one of them by clinging onto you tighter and returning your kisses with twice the intensity.

His hands carefully shifts around your thighs so that he could squeeze your ass while your right hand fiddles with his hair on the back of his neck, and the fingers of your left hand trailing down from his collar bones to his chest after slipping past his shirt.

Feeling his body heating up with desire, Rafayel moans against your lips. Blood rushes down below his hips, and his legs want to shake and give out just so he could pin you down on the sandy ground.

This beach is private property, as a part of his house and studio, so no one can see you and interrupt you.

Rafayel wants to take you. Here and now.

With ragged breaths, he grunts your name as he starts to move your body up and down, rubbing your crotch against the bulge rising through his pants.

You moved your hips and reached farther down to palm his clothed cock, wanting to provide him better relief. You unbuttoned his pants and pulled down his zipper, when suddenly, something came flying right at you.

"Ah!!!"

You shrieked at the three seagulls that appeared out of the blue and decided to flock all around you both.

Rafayel hissed at them while waving a hand to scare them away. "What are you guys doing?! Leave us alone, shoo, shoo!"

You then realized they weren't bothering you two, but specitically your bag on the ground.

"What do they want from that — oh!"

"Oh?"

You cursed as you got off Rafayel to pick up your bag and reveal a small, still warm takeout box that you'd purchased on the way to Rafayel. "I forgot... I got you some shrimp cakes."

You shoved the box inside your bag just so you could have both of your hands freed to sneak up and jump on Rafayel, but you'd gotten distracted and forgot about it.

Now the seagulls have come to punish you.

"They're for me?!" Rafayel happily takes the takeout box and hugs it close to his chest. "You hear that, birdies?! These are mine! Back off!" He then clicks his tongue and mutters under his breath. "And you interrupted us too. So rude."

You chuckled and took his arm. "Let's go back in your place before they summon more of their army and take us down."

"Tch. I can fight a hundred of them. With you, we can take down thousands."

"What about a million seagulls?"

"I guess we can beat them too, but only with an army of our own. We can start making our first recruitment tonight."

"Haha sure — wait what?! What do you mean?!"

Rafayel starts skipping ahead of you, eager to get back to his home. "Shrimp cakes~"

You and Rafayel had gone out to watch one of Talia's concerts in another city that wasn't too far from Linkon.

The roadtrip provides a lovely scenery that shines particularly late at night, so you and Rafayel decided to stop and park at a resting area by the mountain road to enjoy the view of the night sky above and the city lights below.

Rafayel was singing one of Talia's songs that got stuck in his head when you abandoned your seat and placed yourself on his lap, facing the passenger seat's window.

"Hmm?"

"Keep singing, please."

You rested the side of your head against his chest, and Rafayel places his hands on your waist before continuing to sing as requested.

You wanted to close your eyes and fall asleep to his beautiul voice that never fails to relax you, but the moon and the stars are so breathtaking, you didn't want to look away from them either.

Well, there is one view that more compelling.

Just one.

"You look pretty."

Rafayel stops singing and instantly becomes flustered. "Wha— why are you saying that all of a sudden?!"

"Why can't I?"

"You have to warn me first." He murmurs, looking away to calm his racing heart. "Also, I was supposed to say that to you first. I was trying to find the best time to tell you all night. But you cheated and distracted me by making me sing. I deserve a compensation."

You laughed. "Compensation? Sure, what do you want?"

Rafayel answers you by leaning forward to peck your neck, then he leaves soft, brief kisses on your jaw, your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, and lastly, your lips.

You readjusted yourself by facing him properly and placing your knees on the sides of his hips, causing the skirt of your dress to be pushed up to your thighs.

Rafayel impatiently captures your lips and parts them with his tongue to kiss you deeply then sighing with content as he tastes the punch that you had been drinking during dinner with Talia.

You grabbed his tie to loosen it before undoing the top buttons of his shirt so your fingers could feel the warmth of his chest.

Rafayel's hands leave your legs and disappears into your skirt. His hands linger on your ass for a moment before two fingers wandered towards your underwear to trace your folds.

He swallows the moan that leaves your mouth as his fingers slipped inside your panty to rub your slit, already wet with need for him.

He slowly sticks in two fingers inside and you pull back as you arch your back, gasping from pleasure.

Rafayel takes pride at your reaction and admires the look on your face as you mewl from his fingers, which encourages him to move faster and deeper.

His pants tightened every time his fingers slip in and out of your core. His cock wants to take their place, demanding to be enveloped by your warmth.

And you must have noticed it throbbing, begging for your attention, because you lowered yourself and started to grind against his cock.

You captured his hand that had been under your skirt and brought it to his side before intertwining your fingers together, then you continued to ride his thighs.

Rafayel groans quietly, gripping your hands tighter as you quickened your pace, pressing your weight down on him even more so that he could feel you better.

His mind starts spinning, heart racing as he feels himself on the verge of exploding.

"I— I'm close — "

He thrusted his hips upwards, desperate to get his release.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Your flinch and screeched at the sudden loud noises of another car honking nearby.

Headlights are flickering right at you, which means that car is clearly angry at you about something.

"What the hell?!"

You rolled down the window and stuck your head out to see what the driver wanted.

It turns out to be an old woman wearing a uniform who's looking like she wants to smack you with a broom.

"You're not allowed to park there!"

"What?"

"You can't park there at this time!"

You then realized she's a parking enforcement.

"Oh...." You laughed nervously and gave her a wave. "Got it! We'll be leaving now! Sorry!"

You then looked down at Rafayel, who has a frown and furrowed brows on his red face, chest still heaving from your actions just a minute ago before the painful interruption.

He was so close...

"We need to leave now before she gives us a ticket."

You got off Rafayel and moved back to the passenger seat. He slowly sits up and his hand clenches the steering wheel.

"Are you okay? What's the matter?"

Rafayel wanted to slam his head on the wheel. That was the worst interruption by far.

Sure, you two shouldn't have started anything in public, but still....

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

"Yes, we're leaving!"

Three weeks.

Rafayel hasn't seen you for three whole weeks due to a business trip he can't opt out of. He wanted you to go with him, but there's a lot going on with the Hunters Association and they can't afford to lose one of their best hunters at the moment, so you had to stay back in Linkon.

Although he'd gotten used to being away from you from time to time, Rafayel will never not miss you. The beach house that he's temporarily staying at feels lonely.

At the very least, he can see and talk to you through a videocall. You got to share with each other how your day went, and you shared what you've eaten and what your plans are for the following day.

But from the moment it ended, Rafayel found himself sulking in his bedsheet, seeking for the warmth that always comforts him.

He wishes he could hear your voice in person.

He wanted to see you and feel you. He wanted you next to him. He wanted you under him. He wanted you on top of him.

He wanted you running your fingers through his hair. He wanted your hands down his chest. He wanted your lips on his. He wanted your body against his.

Besides the three weeks, it's been longer since he'd become one with you.

Right now, he needs to be inside you, feeling every part of you.

Rafayel's breath hitches as his body becomes ignited, thoughts of you filling his head and making his heart race.

His hands gripped the sheets covering his figure before one of them slowly travels to his hips, just between his thighs.

His desire for you has become visible. His cock hardens inside his pants, aching with desperation to be in your tight core.

Rafayel imagines himself taking you from behind, emitting sweet sounds out of your pretty lips as he pounds in and out of you.

A hand makes its way inside his pants, down to his boxers. With closed eyes, Rafayel touches himself while pretending it's your hand that's pleasuring him.

His hips pushes up to hump his own hand, quiet whines spilling from his mouth as he picture you riding his cock, hair falling all over the place while echoing the groans he's making.

Faster.

Harder.

Rafayel tightens his fist around his cock and picked up the pace, just like how you'd clench around him and move faster as you'd reach your climax.

Then suddenly, he stops.

Right before he could come, Rafayel lets go of himself and sits up. He rips the bedsheets off his body and wipes the beats of sweat that clung on his forehead and chest, then he takes a moment to catch his breath.

He wanted to come.

So badly.

But he wants to wait for you.

He's almost out of patience, but there's still just enough to wait for the day when he sees you again. As soon as he reunites with you, he won't let you go anytime soon.

He'll show you just how much he missed you.

For now, a cold bath will have to do.

"You're looking a little blue, sir. Would you like some wine to make you feel better?"

"No thanks, I'm — "

Rafayel snaps out of his daze as the familiar voice hit him. He looks at the person that just sat down next to him, offering him a glass of wine.

He blinks several times.

Is he dreaming?

Is this some kind of hallucination?

Is he drunk despite not drinking anything alcoholic yet?

"...A hello would be nice, you know? Just staring at me's kinda awkward."

That laugh.

It's definitely you.

And you're really here, in front of him.

"What...." Rafayel almost tears up at the sight of you. "What are you doing here, cutie? Couldn't resist following me at the other side of the world?"

"Yeah, actually." You admitted with a grin. "I've been missing you a lot. Thomas asked if I was free for the weekened, and when I said yes, he hit me up with a ticket and an invitation to a certain banquet."

Rafayel chuckles. "So that's why he hasn't shown up yet. You stole his spot as my plus-one."

"That's right. I did."

He smiles at your smugness before diving into your arms and kissing your lips, and he made sure to take his time pulling away.

He admired your appearance and noted that you're wearing a dress that matches the colors of his suit.

He can't forget to thank Thomas later.

"You look — "

"You look beautiful, Rafayel ~ "

"...I'm supposed to tell you that!" He huffs. "Stop stealing my line."

His hands remained on your hips, refusing to detach himself from you. He scooted his chair closer so that it's right next to yours, making it clear to everyone that you two are together.

"So, do you still want this wine?"

"Nope. I want something else instead." He leans in to get another kiss, but you block his lips by holding the glass of wine in front of your face. "Wha— "

"There's lots of amazing art on display here. Would you please show me around and tell me about them?"

Rafayel has mixed feelings upon seeing the innocent expression on your face.

He thinks you're up to something.

Nonetheless, he agreed to your request.

As he guided you around the gallery, Rafayel tried to steal some more kisses from you.

And you deflected every single one of his attempts with a suspicious smile on your face.

"Why won't you let me kiss you? Why are you bullying me?"

You pinched his cheeks as he pouted at you. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Hmph."

He was sulking for the rest of the night.

Luckily, the banquet ended soon, and Rafayel drives you two back without saying a word. You try not to laugh at him, and he definitely noticed and pouted even harder.

Once you're inside his temporary house, Rafayel walks in the bedroom and opened the balcony doors, revealing the view of the beach and the waves clashing under the moon.

"So you came all the way here but you don't even miss me."

"I didn't say that. I told you I missed you, didn't I?"

"So why won't you kiss me after that one time?"

You grinned and caught his tie to pull him towards you. "I didn't want to kiss you because I missed you."

Rafayel tilted his head. "So you've turned crazy without me. I'm sorry. From now on, I'll be sure to pack you in my bag everytime I go away."

You pinched his cheeks. "Will you let me finish so I can try to sound romantic?!" Rafayel holds back a laugh but says nothing, so you continue. "What I meant to say was... I missed you so much that I didn't want to kiss you, because I wouldn't be able to stop myself."

You closed the distance between your bodies and stood on the tip of your toes so your lips could brush against his.

"Once I kiss you back, I'd get greedy. I'd want more and more and more. I don't want to let you go."

Rafayel finds himself unable to make a comeback, feeling his throat tightening up at your words. His face quickly warms up as soon as your lips touched.

It feels like it's been forever since he last felt kissed you.

And finally at this moment, everything feels right.

He captured your waist and pulls you against him while you pulled his tie down to deepen the kiss. You loosened the knot and got rid of his jacket, and he follows up by unzipping the back of your dress.

Once it fell to the floor, you gently pushed Rafayel on the bed and immediately pinned him down by sitting on his lap. You then undid the buttons of his shirt before running a hand down his chest, feeling his heart pounding with excitement.

Rafayel was put in a trance for a moment as he watches you unbuckle the belt of his pants before undoing its button and zipper. He couldn't keep his eyes off you.

You're really here.

At last, he has you.

And he'll make sure to appreciate every second with you, cherishing every part of you.

"I missed you too."

Rafayel suddenly tells you, just as you're about to pull off his pants.

"I missed you so much."

He kisses you hard before leaning back and bringing you down on the mattress with him. He rolls over so that you're under him, then his tongue pushes between your lips while his hands caresses your chest, then your stomach, and lastly, your thighs.

He doesn't hesitate to discard your underwear and traces your folds with his fingers. His body heats up at the moans you let out, causing him to move his fingers faster.

His cock twitches behind his boxers, but Rafayel wants to take his time making you feel good first.

He's craving for your taste.

His lips leaves yours and drops a trail of kisses starting from your neck, and all the way down to the insides of your thighs. His tongue finds your slit and makes its way inside to devour you.

He hums with satisfaction, eyes peeking up to glance at your expression. His hands softly holds your thighs while his tongue flicks deeper into you.

It doesn't take long for you to come, almost crushing Rafayel with your thighs as they shook before squirting onto the bedsheet.

Rafayel's eyes darken with lust, removing every single piece of clothing he has left before pressing his weight on top of you.

He gives you some time for your body to relax by bringing his attention back to your lips, kissing them until they're plump and red. His teeth playfully tugs at them while your hands danced from his back and slid down to his ass.

With one hand, he rubs his cock a few times, coating himself with his own pre-cum before aligning his tip with your entrance.

He gazes at your eyes for a second, making sure you're comfortable. Once he sees your reassuring smile, he slides himself into you slowly.

Once he's all the way in, Rafayel doesn't hold back. He starts moving hard and fast, causing both of you to groan loudly, synchronizing with the sounds of your bodies clashing together.

His mouth envelopes your left breast, tongue circling around your nipple before sucking on your skin to leave a mark.

He does the same to your right breast while his thrusts become harder, causing your body to jolt upwards. The bed shrieks along with your movements, though neither of you could notice as your undivided attentions are on each other.

Rafayel exhales slowly before pulling out, only to bring your legs on his shoulders. Then, he shoves his cock back in again, this time hitting you at better angles that he knows drived you insane.

Your cries of pleasure encourages him to pick up the pace, and soon he finds himself reaching his climax. Rafayel's hips stutter, struggling to pull out of you. He barely manages to get his tip out before shooting his load right at your body, accidentally getting some on your face.

You came again not too long after him. He drops down next to you and his chest heaves as he catches his breath.

The two of you faced the ceiling, listening to the sounds of your breaths as well as the roaring sea right outside.

Rafayel turns to his side to face you with a grin on his face. "I hope you're not tired yet. We haven't made up for all the times we've been interrupted. That was.... how many times? Five? Seven?" He rests his chin on your chest before whispering to you. "I'll make you come at least seven times."

You squished his cheeks. "Then, I'll make you come eight times."

With that, you lightly push him on his back and pin him down with your weight, sitting right on his thighs.

[dreamtaehyung]

I want to talk to people but if I bother anyone they'll kill me. And I'm pretty bad at starting and continuing conversations

[dreamtaehyung]

When being asked about what Dr. Zayne’s weakness is, you only smile politely and shrug, saying the same line everyone else gives:

“I don’t know, he’s good at handling everything.”

Because to the rest of the world, Zayne has none.

He's the youngest cardiac surgeon in Linkon City. Achieved multiple awards. Published in the best medical journals in his twenties. Patients adore him, medical students worship him, and even senior doctors step aside with respect when he walks down the hallway of Akso Hospital.

It was natural that people look at him like he's a god. Like he’s untouchable. Like he’s perfect.

But not you.

Because right now? The same man that saved countless of lives with his hands is curled up on your chest, groaning softly while an ice pack is pressed to his cheek. His hair’s a little messy. His eyes are shut tight. He’s in obvious pain, using your chest like a pillow.

“You’re such a baby,” you murmur, gently running your fingers through his hair.

“I’m dying,” he groans into your shirt.

“You have a cavity.”

“Same thing.” He deadpans.

"You didn’t cut back on sugar like the dentist told you." You say with a hint of a stern voice, scolding him.

"I did," he whines, voice muffled.

You raise a brow. "You mean…?"

"I stopped eating cake. For breakfast." He says it like he deserves an award.

"And for lunch?"

He pauses.

"And dinner?"

"...I thought we were in a judgment-free relationship," he mutters, glaring up at you with the most betrayed expression, cheeks puffed, his eyes slightly teary because the painkillers haven't kicked in just yet.

You stifle a laugh. Because that is Zayne’s weakness, not pressure, not blood, not failure.

No. It’s sweets. second to you, but he wouldn't tell you that.

He has the worst sweet tooth in Linkon and the self control of a five-year-old when it comes to desserts. And when that catches up to his teeth, he becomes the most pathetic, clingy, whiney boyfriend in existence. But only to you. Only ever to you.

But the world doesn’t need to know that the flawless Dr. Zayne Li of Akso Hospital once sulked all day at home because you threw away his secret stash of Kitkats.

That part of him? That’s yours to keep.

[MASTERLIST]

[dreamtaehyung]

my hard kink is people who are kind and considerate of others

[dreamtaehyung]

07/02/25; 10:45am

{ 18+ drabbles / headcanons }

[ when you get on your knees for them ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

you decided to spend some time with sylus in his office, listening to his hundreds of business calls while taking note of his mounting frustrations.

every few minutes, you would look away from your novel to see the onychinus leader spitting out orders into the phone. admittedly, you hated seeing your beloved so stressed and would do anything to relieve him-

which was why you promptly put your book aside, standing back to your full height as you took casual steps toward sylus. he lifts a brow at you, but turns around in his seat accordingly.

he had assumed that you would sit on his lap and keep him company during these trying times-

only to be mildly surprised when you end up spreading his legs wide open before settling yourself between them. your eyes would meet his gaze, giving him a brief wink before proceeding to unzip the front of his dress pants. his breathing hitches, no longer focused on the phone call when you manage to pull down his boxers and extract his half-hardened cock.

with your attention solely focused on his cock, you slowly stroked him back to full hardness, basking in his low hiss of your name, his hand already gripping at the phone with an almost bruising strength. resting the palm of your hand atop his thighs, you brace yourself on them before descending down on his cock.

the moment your hot mouth wraps around his erection was when it all came crashing down on sylus. he grits his teeth, trying to keep his voice even when he practically growls into the phone. “fine, have the shipment to me by next week. this is your only chance at redemption.”

not even waiting for the other party’s reply, sylus hangs up the phone, hands already lovingly stroking at your hair, “ngh… you sure know how to turn my bad mood around, kitten.”

mischief was seen in your gaze when you let go of his cock with an audible pop!, playfully tracing at his pulsating veins all while licking at your lips, “i saw that you were stressed and unhappy and wanted to change that for you…”

his gaze darkens considerably at your admission, “then by all means give me a happy ending, kitten.”

and when sylus manages to thrust his cock back inside of your hot and wet mouth, that was exactly what you did.

zayne had skipped eating lunch once more, which prompted to you enter his office with a plate of food in hand.

he hears your incoming footsteps and looks away from his paperwork briefly. a tired smile graces his features when he says your name in a voice laced with adoration. you return his smile, setting his lunch on his desk before settling yourself on his lap.

“it’s not fair how you have to bring your work home with you on a near daily basis, zaynie.”

his smile became minuscule just then, wrapping his arms around your waist in a tighter manner. “i know, but i suppose it just comes with the job, my love.”

you face him, hands framing at his face as you took notice of the dark circles beneath his eyes. gently caressing at them, you sigh before telling him, “you’ve been stressed lately.”

“that’s true, but it’s by no fault of your own-“

“why don’t i help you destress, even if it’s just for a few minutes?”

zayne’s expression was painted with deep confusion, “what do you mean?”

you were giggling now, trailing your nails down the front of his chest before spreading his knees. after settling yourself between them, you gently began to pull off his pants, managing to take out his limp cock in the process.

zayne hissed in response to the sensation of your mouth suddenly surrounding his length, wetting his cock so thoroughly that he couldn’t help but become hard in response. he was aching for you, practically twitching and pulsating within your sweet lips as he sought out his high.

your eagerness to take away his stress and replace it with pleasure became all too evident the moment you moved your head back and forth over his manhood, pumping whatever part of him that couldn’t fit in your mouth with your hands. and after a particularly hard suck-

zayne loses all of his self control, spilling himself down your throat as you swallowed every last drop. satisfied with your work, you give his cock one last, lingering kiss before helping him readjust himself, placing his softening cock back within the confines of his boxers and pants before returning to your seat on his lap.

he encircles his arms around you, hiding his face within the curve of your neck while pressing butterfly kisses against your skin. “i didn’t know how much i needed that.”

you softly smile at him, simply cuddling yourself closer to him when he suddenly whispers into your ear, “perhaps i should return the favor?”

your eyes widen when you felt zayne bite down on the lobe of your ear, whispering sweet nothings into your ear before sliding the palm of his hand down the waistband of your shorts and panties, gently tracing at your center before dipping a finger within your heat.

and when he manages to pinch at your bundle of nerves, you knew that you were a goner as you braced yourself on his biceps.

after a particularly grueling mission, xavier came home to you battered and bruised, and in much need of a shower. he greets you with tired eyes before excusing himself to the bathroom, leaving you alone with your intrusive thoughts in your shared bedroom.

setting down your phone the moment you heard the shower turn on, you slowly began taking off your clothes, taking slow and deliberate strides toward the restroom. a playful grin spreads across your features when you saw that the door remained ajar, filling you with confidence as you took quick strides toward the glass shower stall.

you saw his silhouette against the frosted glass, already aching for him when you swiftly entered the shower with him. caught off guard by your sudden appearance, he lets out a grunt of your name-

only for his eyes to go wide when you suddenly kneel down before him, hands already gripping at his soft cock as you slowly stroked at his length. within mere seconds, he was already hard for you, his cock hot and ready for you when you surged forward. your lips were wrapped around him, bobbing your head back and forth with your tongue tracing at the pulsating veins that surrounded his shaft.

bracing his hand against the shower wall, xavier’s gaze was hooded and narrowed, taking in the sight of you taking him in so deliciously well as you moved up and down his shaft with a fervor that takes his very breath away-

unable to focus on washing himself when you made him feel like he was so close to tasting heaven.

rafayel was being a bit of a brat, pouting and refusing to let you go even when you had some chores and errands to finish.

with a sigh of his name, you look back at your boyfriend, seeing him still clinging to you like a lifeline as he buried his face within the curve of your neck. giving his soft hair some gentle pats, you carefully walk to the living room before shoving him into one of the sofas.

he lands against the plush cushions with a playful smirk, “just what are you planning, cutie?”

brushing back your hair, you place a hand on his inner thigh before kneeling in front of him. “if i give you what you need, will you let me finish my work.”

an almost angelic smile graces his features, “hmm, that depends… what do you mean by ‘giving me what i need’?”

instead of answering him with words, you let your actions do all of the explaining. drawing circles on his inner thighs, you play with the faint outline of his cock seen, immediately teasing it to full hardness when a considerable tent was seen in front of his pants.

“princess-“ yet the rest of his words were lost the moment when he began to swallow thickly, watching as you pulled out his cock from the confines of his pants. you play with the tip of his pretty cock, watching as the beads of precum escaped from it before leaning closer to lick it away.

he grunts, arms already encircled around your head as he demanded, “q-quit teasing me… just put it in already…!”

“as you wish.” pressing a kiss against his cockhead, you open your mouth wide open for him, feeling his velvet hardness on the tip of your tongue before getting to work. you began sucking and tracing at the entire length of his cock, basking in his grunts and desperate whimpers of your name as you worshipped him with fervor.

just minutes later, you felt the lemurian spill himself down your throat, allowing you to eagerly swallow all that he had to offer before standing back to your full height. wiping the stray droplets of cum from your lips, you were satisfied upon seeing his fucked out expression, giving his lips a chaste kiss before attempting to walk away-

only to be stopped by a powerful hand wrapped around your wrist. he bites down on the lobe of your ear before pressing you against the nearby wall. with his hands eagerly exploring down the length of your body, he casually dips it down the front of your sweatpants all while whispering within your ear, “don’t think i’m letting you get away from me so easily, princess.”

you truly wanted to worship your lover in ways that were only kept in secret-

intimate moments shared between you and caleb in the privacy of your bedroom-

but it seemed that the colonel had other plans for you, plans that involved pleasuring you just as much as you were pleasuring him.

he would not relent, wouldn’t even let you get on your knees for him when he lays down in your shared bed. “get on top of me. show me that pretty pussy of yours while you shove my cock down your throat.”

your knees end up clashing together, feeling your entrance clench with need for him. needing no further urging, you get on the bed-

only to have the colonel wrap his large hands around your waist, already bringing your aching cunt down on his lips as you cried out to him. you brace yourself above his thighs, feeling your back arch when caleb’s tongue works his way deeper into your heat.

distracted by his ministrations, you managed to break yourself out of your pleasured haze, leaning over him until his erection was in front of you. refusing to climax, you descended yourself on his cock, taking him inch by torturous inch before curling your tongue around his shaft.

his groans vibrate pleasantly through your body, making you moan as you worked on stroking his cock. you needed to feel the telltale twitching of his dick and how it signaled to how close he was to completion-

yet the moment you tried to bring him further down your throat (nearly gagging in response)-

caleb manages to pull out of you, taking advantage of his strength to flip you over so that you were the one laid back in bed. his eyes were burning with love and lust for you, taking a hold of you leg before tossing it over his shoulder. he traces at your entrance for a few seconds, allowing your arousal to stain at it before completely sheathing himself deep inside of you.

your reaction was immediate, back already arching against the ruined bedsheets as he sets a brutal pace that has you seeing stars. your colonel continues to fuck himself into you, eyes drinking in the sight of you writhing and utterly ruined from beneath him while letting out a chuckle.

“now this sight is something i can definitely see myself getting used to.”

end notes: yay another post as i announce another semi-hiatus before enjoying another vacation with my family 🥰 this is unedited, but i’ll make any changes once this is posted ♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[dreamtaehyung]

Accidentally overstimulating Zayne because it's a hot day, and his cool skin feels nicer than the actual sex you're in the middle of having. You keep clinging to him, getting as much of your skin to touch his, the snowflakes from him being worked up refreshing the unbearable temperatures of summer. It feels so nice, you can't peel yourself away from him and you aren't even thinking about cumming, too busy relieving the heat.

But him. He's so lost. He's cummed twice already, face completely red, and has no logical brain left to push you off of him. He can feel every bit of your body and why– are you pressing yourself to him like that? He can't complain, not that he's able to. His hips stopped moving a while ago but you're still cockwarming him and it's not helping. His face is frozen in a blissed out expression and, from his mouth, sighs and hums keep spilling.

It's a hot day. Just five more minutes...

[dreamtaehyung]

TAKE IT BACK; I DON’T NEED IT

Fiiiiiiinally done!! This was a labor of love and pain. I’m clocking in at ~25 hours and it’s BY FAR the most detailed piece I’ve ever done. The things I do for my Beloved… 💜💜💜

[dreamtaehyung]

🩸💧 🩸💧 🩸💧

When things get heated you need to cool him down ~

Finally finished this piece! Been a WIP for a month, but I finally got some time to sit down and render 🙌🏻

[dreamtaehyung]

Zayne × Nurse!Reader - Part Six

The breaking point

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five

Love & Deepspace Masterlist

I | I was already tired, not just the kind of tired after a long shift, but the kind that’s been weighing down on your chest for weeks. The kind you try to ignore by staying busy.

II | I had a stack of paperwork in my arms, folders that needed filing, numbers- just, paperwork. It was not my favourite task to do, but gave me something to do. Something that I could distract myself with.

III | I walk behind the cardiology reception desk with my eyes low, just to pick up the rest of the papers I need to continue. Pretending I do not hear the familiar whispering tones that always seemed to settle when I was nearby. I’ve gotten good at pretending. I pretend a lot lately.

IV | “She’s acting weird,” one of them said. Her voice had that hushed excitement people use when talking about someone just out of earshot. "Don't you think?”

V | "Acting?” The other voice followed like venom wrapped in silk. “She’s always been weird. You remember how she used to stutter around Doctor Zayne? Now suddenly she’s pretending he doesn’t exist? Please.”

VI | I gripped the folders tighter, like holding onto them would anchor me to something solid. My cheeks burned. I knew people noticed, but I didn’t think… I didn’t think it had gotten this bad.

VII | “Maybe she figured out he’s way out of her league,” The same voice said, not even trying to lower her voice anymore. “Smart girl, even if it took her long enough.”

VIII | I didn’t look at them, just took what I needed and left to continue with my work. Or I tried to, but one of them- the one with the snake venom voice, stepped just slightly into my path. Her shoulder knocking into mine, sending every single piece of paper flying out of my arms like leaves caught in wind.

IX | The sound of paper hitting the floor echoed down the hall. My stomach dropped along with it.

X | “Oops,” She said, far too sweet.“You alright? You’re almost shaking. It can't be because of nerves, though. I mean, Doctor Zayne isn’t even around right now."

XI | I just stared at her. For the first time, not with fear. Not even with sadness. Just... disbelief. “What did you say?”

XII | Before she could open her mouth again, another voice cut through - calm, cold, and unmistakably unimpressed. "That is enough."

XIII | I felt a shock, like a lightning bolt struck me, at the sound of that voice. Zayne... I could hear his footsteps as he approached, yet did not dare to turn to face him. He wasn’t rushing at all, but something in his aura made the air shift. The same way it does right before a thunderstorm.

XIV | The nurse paled. “Doctor Zayne- I was just-"

“If I were in your place, I'd be very careful about my next words” Zayne interrupted, his eyes hard. “Do you even get any work done, or do you just sit around and whisper to each other all day?”

XV | She stumbled for a response, but he did not give her a chance to come up with any excuse. "Pick the papers up."

XVI | She blinked, as if she could not believe what she was hearing. How he was talking to her. Ironic, seeing how she had been talking to me. It's not funny anymore when you become the target. "D-doctor Za-"

XVII | "Did you not hear what I said? Pick. Them. Up." Zayne demanded, voice just as cold as the evol he wielded.

XVIII | Everyone was quiet. The kind of silence that buzzes behind your ears. She bent down with shaking hands, gathering papers like her life - or job - depended on it. Maybe, in that moment, it did. When she had gathered them all, she stood up but kept her head down, avoiding everyone's gaze. Then, she tried to hand the papers over to Zayne.

XIX | His eyes didn’t even flicker toward her. “Not to me,” he said, then nodded his head my way. “Her.”

She turned toward me like I was a executioner. She shoved them into my arms with a scowl but I could see her hands trembling.

XX | “Now apologize,” Zayne said, voice still flat. “Like a professional. Not like a child forced to say ‘sorry’ at recess.”

XXI | Again, the bitch started blinking as if they were as dry as a desert. “Doctor Zayne-”

XXII | “Apologize,” Zayne snapped. “Or you will not have a place in this team anymore.”

XXIII | The silence turned deadly. Her mouth twitched. Then, finally, through gritted teeth, she forced out, “I’m sorry.”

XXIV | “For what?” Zayne pushed for more.

XXV | Her eye actually twitched at that. “For- knocking into you. And being… unprofessional.”

XXVI | “There we go,” Zayne said, in a mocking tone as if he was speaking to a child. “Now go back to your desk and do your actual job instead of treating this hospital like a playground.”

XXVII | At that, she fled. And just like that, I was left alone with him.

XXVIII | Zayne looked at me. And the ice in his face shifted, melted. The voice I adored so much lowered. “Are you alright?”

XXIX | I turned and ran. Bolted down the hall, because at that question, with that tone- coming from him - something in me had snapped loose. I couldn’t let him see it, the tears, the pain, the way his concern gutted me wide open - the shame. All kinds of things raced through my mind, but there was one dominant thought- He had heard what she said.

XXX | I flung the stairwell door open and collapsed on the cold steps, pressing my palms to my face. I didn’t want him to follow, but I knew he would.

I felt it the door open. That sudden shift of air pressure. The soft click of a handle that carried more weight than any shout ever could. His footsteps were not rushed, they were decisive. Heavy with something that made my breath catch.

I didn’t lift my head. I couldn’t. I stayed seated on the second step from the bottom, but wrapped my arms around my knees like that could hold me together.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Zayne said. His voice was low again, no ice.

I shook my head, to disagree and because I didn’t know what to say. Because my throat was too tight to let anything out. He thought I ran away because he scared me?

He didn’t sit next to me, not at first. He stayed a few steps above me, towering, but at a respectful distance. Like he knew I was splintering and didn’t want to push.

“This isn’t the first time, is it?” Zayne asked. “The way she treated you. The way she talked. She's probably not the only one either, is she?"

My lips parted, but nothing came out.

“It’s been going on for a while,” Zayne answered his own question. “And I did not see it."

I finally looked up at him. My vision was blurry, lashes wet, and cheeks flushed from the pressure in my chest. “It’s not your fault.”

Zayne flinched. Literally. Like I had hit him.

"You didn’t know,” I whispered. “How could you? You’re not… you’re not supposed to know everything happening in every hallway.”

“But I should’ve seen you,” he said. “You pulled away. You barely even looked at me the last few weeks. I noticed, and I still didn’t-”

“Because I had to,” I interrupted. My voice cracked. “Do you know what they were saying about me, Doctor Zayne?”

He didn’t answer, because he couldn't.

“They said that I was throwing myself at you. That I didn’t deserve to be here, that I was just some pathetic little nurse with a crush who thought smiling at a doctor meant I had a future.”

I saw the way his face twisted, something between rage and heartbreak. It hurt to see that expression on his face, it made me want to scream.

“So, I kept my distance, I stopped speaking unless I had to. I became so fucking small just so I had no way of giving them something to talk about anymore.” I said, my voice breaking.

“They don’t get to talk about you like that,” Zayne said, after a moment silence. “They don’t get to decide your worth. And I don’t give a damn if you were smiling at me or the walls. You earned your place in this department. Every day.".

My eyes welled up again. “You really didn’t know?”

“No,” he said, firmly. “And I hate myself for that. I saw something was off with you but I thought something might've happend in private and I did not want to intrude- I still should’ve asked. I just wanted to give you space- time- to come back to yourself again-"

Zayne took a step closer, slow not pushing. "I sincerely apologize, I can't take back what happened to you but I can make sure that you'll never have to experience anything like this ever again."

AND THEY LIVED A HAPPILY EVER AFTER. Yo, I am no good in romantic scenes, I can't help but cringe at every sentence- angst is my speciality- BUT I tried my best okay. 😗🙂‍↕️ I finished this while listening to gummy bear and ppap to keep myself awake lmao.

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[dreamtaehyung]

he leaves you out like a penny in the rain (p.3)

Pairing: Zayne Li x Non MC Reader

Summary: You spent years orbiting Dr. Zayne Li, but when a careless comment shatters the fragile bond you thought you’d built, you walk away. Only then does Zayne realize what he's lost.

Warnings: FLUFFFF. Zayne being a simp. A man who yearns is a man who EARNS!

Word Count: 5.7k

Disclaimer: Also, to all the lovely folks in medicine finding this, I am not a medical professional yall, so plz ignore any errors lmao.

A/N: Huzzah, last part! I just want to thank everyone who interacted with the last two parts. I loved reading every comment and reaction. I hope you liked how I wrapped it up. 

I will be doing lads x non-mc reader fics for all the boys, so lemme know if you wanna be tagged for those, and who you'd like next <3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | AO3

It had been months since the fallout with Zayne. Months of cold silences gradually warming, and old wounds scabbing over with routine kindnesses. He had chipped away at your anger with persistent thoughtfulness, but you were no fool. Whatever had cracked between you had re-formed into something more… professional. Friendly, at best.

And that was fine. You weren’t delusional enough to believe in fairytales. You took his gestures for what they were: The generosity of a colleague. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Regardless, the cardiology interns didn’t deserve to suffer the effects of your grudge any longer. You hadn’t stepped foot on their floor in months, and poor Dr. Greyson had taken to dramatically moping around in your office every other morning, as if his soul were leaving his body due to “muffin deprivation.”

So today, in a rare act of mercy, you stopped by the bakery across the street and picked up a basket of assorted treats, carefully chosen according to the spreadsheet you kept tucked away in your phone, listing every known allergy, aversion, and guilty pleasure of the hospital staff. Maybe it was ridiculous, but it mattered to you. People should be known and remembered.

You arrived at the cardiology nurses' station just as the lunch lull set in, and Nurse Yvonne spotted you first, her entire face lighting up. 

“Guess who’s back?” she announced, looking at you like you were some benevolent snack deity.

You were nearly tackled by a flurry of white coats and clipboard-toting chaos as all nearby interns surged toward you. You waved them off and laid out the spread carefully. 

“Oh my god—!”

“No way—!”

“Dr. Muffin! You live!”

“She returns!”

You grin at their greetings, feeling warmth spread through you. “Plenty available, worry not. Everyone gets one. Except Brian. You get half until you finish your progress notes." 

The intern, Brian, groaned. “I would’ve stayed home today if I knew I was going to be picked on.”

“Then you would’ve missed lemon poppy seed,” you remarked, handing him his with a raised brow. “And I know for a fact you love lemon poppy seed. Don’t lie to me, I have the receipts.”

“Okay, stalker,” he muttered fondly. “Thanks, Doc.”

“Maple walnut for Freya, blueberry crumble for Theo,” you continued, handing them out like a fairy godmother in scrubs. “No nuts for Amara. And yes, Liz, I remembered the vegan chocolate one for you.”

You looked up to see wide eyes, crinkled noses from grinning too hard, and a chorus of thank-yous that made your chest ache familiarly.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the sugar fairy.” Dr. Greyson was watching the spectacle with great interest. “Took you long enough. We’ve been surviving on vending machine despair and broken dreams.”

You snorted. “Sounds like your interns could’ve used a better attending.”

“I tried feeding them,” he promised solemnly. “But someone replaced my protein bars with ketchup packets and a single stick of gum.”

“Brian,” three interns chorused in unison.

Brian held up his hands. “Not me!”

Greyson shook his head in mock sadness. “Anyway. I’m filing a formal complaint with HR. You vanished for months, and morale plummeted. You owe us seven months’ worth of baked goods and emotional support.”

“Oh, please, you just missed having someone to complain to.”

“That too.”

The mood was buzzing with laughter and stolen bites, and even though you’d told yourself you were done chasing after external validation, you realized you enjoyed this feeling of being welcome and a part of something.

You were so engrossed with the enthusiasm around you, you didn’t even notice the subtle glance one intern threw toward the glass corridor behind you.

Zayne wasn’t expecting the commotion outside his office. Such sporadic bursts of conversation weren’t exactly uncommon at this hour, but what made him pause wasn’t the noise. It was the scent.

Vanilla, with just the faintest hint of cinnamon and sugar. It tugged a thread in his memory.

He stepped out of his office, expression impassive as always, until he saw you standing at the nurses' station, laughing. 

Actually laughing.

Your head was tilted back, your hair catching the light as your lips curved in a grin he hadn’t seen in months. You were flanked by your two interns, Clara and Nam, both helping you manage the leftover baked goods, but all Zayne could see was you. Your smile settled something in his chest, and completely upended something else. Something that somersaulted in the hollow beneath his ribs.

He cleared his throat, and the sound was enough to make everyone freeze like they’d been caught stealing vials from the laboratory.

"Do I get one?" he asked, deadpan.

A sudden shift fell over the group. Interns brushed crumbs off their coats, straightened their backs like soldiers standing to attention. But you just looked at him with a teasing grin. 

“Of course." You held up a brown paper bag. "Can’t have our head surgeon deprived of his sugar fix.”

Zayne stepped forward as you handed it over, and when your fingers inevitably brushed his, he swore his heart skipped a beat. Perhaps he ought to get himself checked for arrhythmia. 

“What is it?” he asked, busying himself with his treat to avoid looking at you.

“Something new. Thought you might want to try.”

Before he could respond, one of the cardiology interns—Brian, if he remembered correctly—let out a wistful sigh and groaned through a mouthful of muffin.

“I’d marry you for these,” he mumbled, eyes rolling skyward. “Just say the word, Doc.”

The entire station burst into raucous laughter. Except Zayne.

Clara and Nam stepped in front of you like bodyguards, crossing their arms with theatrical flair.

“As if you could keep up with our magnificent doctor,” Clara jeered. 

“Yeah,” Nam chimed in. “She wouldn't marry a guy who still confuses systole and diastole.”

“It was one time!” Brian protested.

The bickering rose in volume, but Zayne’s eyes stayed on you. He didn’t miss the way you humoured their teasing, or how your eyes flickered toward him briefly, unreadable. If it were anyone else, they would have shut down the jibes already, but the interns were comfortable enough to joke around with you because you treated them like friends, not your underlings. 

“C’mon, Doc,” someone teased. “You are married, right?”

“Ha,” Clara cut in with a smirk. “She’s practically married to her job, so the rest of you better get in line. Her attention is already spoken for.”

“Oh,” Brian piped up. “So like Dr. Li.”

A hush fell over the group—half amused, half awkward. 

Zayne didn’t move, but he raised a brow, appraising the young man carefully. “Is that supposed to be a joke?”

Brian flushed. “Uh—no, I just meant like you know. She's dedicated. Married to the work. Like you.”

You snickered, diffusing the tension by tossing Brian a napkin. “Relax, you’re not the first person to make that comparison.”

Not knowing what else to do, Zayne took a small bite from the pastry you’d given him. A mild citrus glaze hit his tongue. It was not something he would’ve chosen, but it was surprisingly pleasant, and he wondered how many more things he didn’t even know he liked until you handed them to him.

Brian, likely in a desperate attempt to redeem himself, addressed you again. “I mean, it makes sense, right? You and Dr. Li. Two of the most overworked doctors in this hospital. Same brutal hours. Same merciless expressions when someone makes a dumb mistake—”

“—same self-destructive perfectionism,” Clara added, looking between you and Zayne like she was connecting yarn on a conspiracy board.

Nam grinned. “Same tendency to pretend they don’t need sleep.”

“Same inability to remember where they left their coffee, or who took it.”

You rolled your eyes at that. “That was one time, Clara.”

Zayne shook his head. “Twice, actually.”

You turned your glare to him, but then, right on cue, Dr. Greyson interrupted. 

“I must say, it's awfully nice of you to rejoin us, Doc. I was starting to think Dr. Li scared you off for good.”

Zayne’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not—”

“Don’t worry,” Greyson cut in again. “We all know his effect on most people. It’s a miracle you still visit our floor at all.”

“Pretty sure it’s the interns she visits,” Nam pointed out.

“Obviously,” Brian agreed. “We’re the fun ones.”

Just then, Nam leaned in conspiratorially. “Alright, alright, before we let you get back to work, we need to know some important stats. How well do you know each other? You know, good colleagues who work together must know each other's habits to function cohesively.”

You frowned. "Nam, what are you even saying?"

Clara clapped her hands together. “Yes, excellent idea! Rapid-fire round. Dr. Li, what's her favourite late-night snack? Go.”

You opened your mouth to tell her that there was no way he'd know that, but Zayne responded before you could. “Subpar takeout from the establishment down the street.”

You pursed your lips sullenly. “You don't have to emphasize the word subpar.”

He gave you a blank look. “You get the same thing every time you're on-call. Even when you should be prioritizing nutrition over price.”

"I am supporting a small business! That is significantly more important."

Meanwhile, Brian pointed between the two of you with a dramatic gasp. “You watch what she eats?”

Zayne didn’t respond, but the twitch in his jaw suggested he realized he’d walked right into that one.

“You never notice what the rest of us eat, Dr. Li.” 

“I’m not responsible for your questionable caffeine intake, Brian,” Zayne replied.

“Okay, okay,” Clara said, grinning. “Next one. Worst habit?”

You smirked. “Dr. Li hoards pens. A concerning number of them. Once I borrowed one and he acted like I’d stolen a kidney.”

“They were organized,” the man grimaced. “You put them back in the wrong slot.”

Brian sniggered. “So you’re saying he’s a pen goblin. That’s fine. What about you, Doc?”

Zayne answered for you this time. “She volunteers for too many shifts. Even when she’s dead on her feet.”

The teasing paused for a beat. You glanced at him, surprised by the concern in his voice.

“That’s not technically a bad habit, Dr. Li,” Clara argued.

“It is, if it means she runs herself into the ground.”

Brian cleared his throat loudly before it could get awkward again. “So… you both don’t sleep. Great foundation. Now, last one. Dream vacation spot. Go.”

You both hesitated, then, spoke at the same time. “Somewhere quiet.”

Clara leaned into Nam and whispered audibly, “Okay, but if they don’t already live together, I’ll eat my stethoscope.”

Greyson, who had been observing everything with the satisfaction of a man watching a very slow car crash, finally interjected. “God, you two really are like a divorced couple who never filed the paperwork.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Alright, Dr. Greyson, if you're done assembling your case file for imaginary conspiracy theories, I'm going to go steal some gloves from your supply closet.”

Zayne glanced at you. “Out of gloves again?”

"You know how it is." You shrugged. "Kids love getting things sticky. Paint, glitter, jam, bodily fluids. It’s a fun surprise every time I enter a room.”

Nam made a face. “Why would you say jam and bodily fluids in the same sentence?”

“Because it’s true." Clara nodded sagely. “We’ve seen things. Sticky things.”

“And suddenly, I’m not hungry anymore.” Brian set his muffin down.

“You’ll get over it,” you said dryly. “It’s your favourite.”

Zayne, meanwhile, looked faintly amused in that imperceptible way of his. His eyes softened, and the edge of his mouth twitched. “I’ll have a box sent over this afternoon. You don't have to raid Greyson's supply.”

That earned a round of wiggling eyebrows and mischievous looks, but the two of you chose to ignore them. 

“I’m going back to work, as should the rest of you,” Zayne said curtly, turning on his heel and walking off, but you swore the tips of his ears had turned an endearing shade of crimson.

After that day, the interns of your two departments formed a coalition of sorts, although you weren't sure what their end goal was. 

It started subtly at first.

Whenever a shared consult with cardiology came up, Nam would look at the patient chart, let out a theatrical sigh, and say, “Oh no, I’ve just remembered I’m needed in the NICU,” before fleeing with such urgency you didn’t have the heart to stop him.

“Guess I’ll have to deliver the updates myself,” you’d declare, trudging reluctantly toward Zayne's office. Enough time had passed that you weren't avoiding him like the plague anymore, and you had fallen back into a friendly routine of bringing him his favourite macarons while he brought you whatever stationery you were currently in short supply of. 

The good doctor himself never looked surprised to see you, but then again, he never looked anything. Except when your hand accidentally brushed his while handing over a file, and he watched you like he was trying to solve a complex equation. One he didn’t yet have the formula for.

After that, the interns got bolder.

You once spotted Clara scribbling something into a notebook, and when you asked what she was doing, she yelped and slammed the book shut, claiming it was just her clinical notes. But you could have sworn you saw the words accidental hand touch: 2 points?

It only escalated from there.

Your coffee order was mysteriously doubled every morning as well. Whenever you’d go to pick up your usual, you'd find two drinks waiting, one marked with your name, the other with Zayne’s initials, forcing you to drop by his office. 

On rare free afternoons, when you went to the cafeteria to grab a quick bite between shifts, you would often find your regular table occupied by whichever interns were available at the time, and most surprising of all, Zayne. And every time, there was only ever one empty seat between him and the wall. 

You could have probably just taken lunch in your office, but you were curious as to what the interns were trying to accomplish, so you played along. Besides, if it got Zayne out of his office and actually eating on time, who were you to complain? 

One evening, you and Zayne were reviewing overlapping patient files in the cardiology break room when a slow song suddenly started playing from someone’s phone left on the table. The music was loud and awkward, and you promptly burst out laughing. 

“Is that… is that Careless Whisper?”

Zayne looked irritated, especially when a chorus of muffled giggles could be heard from the hallway beyond the slightly ajar door. 

You sighed. “We should probably put a stop to their antics soon?”

"Probably," Zayne agreed, pointing to the whiteboard behind him. "Have you seen Brian's latest artistic endeavour?"

You had to choke back another undignified sound when you saw the exceptionally detailed doodle of a heart monitor graph with exaggerated spikes. The words underneath spelled out your name along with Zayne's. 

"There's a spreadsheet too, apparently."

You nearly fell out of your chair. "There's a what?"

Zayne slid his laptop over to you, showing you an elaborately set-up document titled Dr. Li's Compatibility Study: Ongoing Observational Data, with columns labelled “Shared Preferences,” “Mutual Glances,” and “Chemistry–Debatable.”

"Why do you have access to it?"

"It was shared accidentally, I am told."

Your mouth dropped open as you examined it further. “They’ve graphed it.”

"The Pearson correlation coefficient is impressive.”

You buried your face in your hands. “I’m going to kill them.”

“You’ll have to take a number."

However, he didn’t seem as annoyed as you’d expected. In fact, someone with his disposition would have shut down the little project a long time ago, and it was almost as if he was letting it continue on purpose. You told yourself not to read into it too much. Perhaps he, too, was amused by their antics and wanted to see what their end goal was. 

And the next day, you caught him deliberately slowing his steps when he saw you walking into the hospital courtyard, matching your stride like it was muscle memory. He didn’t say much, but he didn’t have to. Not when Nam, Clara, and Brian were watching from the second-story windows with binoculars and wildly jotting into their notebook.

It all came to a startling conclusion the following week.

It began innocently enough, almost too innocently, in retrospect.

First, Clara asked to borrow your pager in the morning, drumming her fingers on your desk with a perfectly casual smile. “Mine’s been glitching all day. I want to compare the alerts side by side.”

You barely looked up from the patient charts you were reviewing. “Sure,” you allowed, sliding it toward her. “Just bring it back in a few minutes.”

She chirped an “Of course!” and breezed out the door.

You didn’t think much of it after that. You had rounds, consults, a half-eaten granola bar and a cold coffee to finish before midnight. A typical day.

It wasn’t until mid-afternoon that Nam groaned from the nurse’s station, holding his lower back like an actor in a bad soap opera. “I think I’ve aged three decades today,” he groaned. “Doc, could you grab more bandages from the supply closet? I’ll owe you my life.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Wasn’t that your assignment?”

“Alas, I am but a shell of a man,” he moaned. "I can barely move, let alone brave through that maze of dust bunnies."

“Fine,” you muttered, taking pity. “But only because I don’t want you fainting from sheer dramatics.”

That was mistake number two.

You made your way to the old supply closet near your office, the one you loathed. It was narrow like a crawl space, shelves stacked dangerously high, and perpetually dim because no one ever fixed the overhead bulb. You’d sent several maintenance requests, but never received a response.

You pulled out your phone, switched on the flashlight, and carefully picked your way through the tunnel of medical chaos. And there it was, balanced idiotically on the top shelf like it was mocking you. You glowered up at the box of bandages, already placing your foot on the bottom-most shelf to use it as a stepping stool, dignity be damned. You were not in the mood to hunt down a ladder. 

Just as you had hoisted yourself up a considerable distance, you heard footsteps outside. You turned your head sharply, opening your mouth to warn whoever was approaching. “Careful! Don’t let the—”

But your warning came too late.

The door swung open, and Zayne Li stepped inside. His shoe landed squarely against the cardboard box you’d wedged in the frame to keep the old door ajar, kicking it clean out of place. You watched in dismay as the door swung shut behind him with finality. 

“Noooo—”

Zayne blinked. “What’s wrong?”

You groaned, smacking your forehead lightly against the metal shelf. “That door is always getting jammed. And you just kicked away our only means of escape.”

Your intruder regarded the discarded cardboard box with an expression of mild guilt. “Oh… I am sorry.”

The space was dim and dusty, lit only by your phone on a nearby shelf, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Zayne’s face, half-illuminated, looked too serene for someone who had just ruined your day.

“Why are you even here, Dr. Li?”

The man held up his pager. “Weren’t you the one who called for me?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why would I ask to meet you in a closet?”

“Who am I to question your cryptic summons? You said it was urgent.”

“I don’t even have my pager on me—" you interrupted yourself with a grunt, "—CLARA!”

“...Ah.”

You groaned again, your head thunking against the shelf with more feeling this time. “I knew something was off when she asked to borrow it. I should’ve known she was up to something. I can’t believe I’ve been outwitted by an intern.”

“They’ve grown bold. Greyson found a tally sheet on one of their clipboards last week. I believe there are betting brackets involved.”

“Of course, there are.”

Then Zayne squinted up at you, as if just realizing your precarious position. “Why are you climbing the shelves?”

“Because I hate my life, obviously."

“That’s an occupational hazard. You should probably get down.”

You cast a look down at the narrow space between you. You would definitely have to descend directly into his personal space. Like… very personal. Chest-to-chest proximity.

You gave a forced little laugh. “Maybe, uh… maybe I’ll just stay up here and call for help. Pass me my phone, please.”

Zayne rolled his eyes. “You are being dramatic. You can’t possibly make a coherent phone call while perched up there."

"It is surprisingly comfortable up here, actually," you countered.

"Let me help. I can't simply stand by and watch a colleague twist an ankle.” He moved toward you, standing in front of the shelf with his hands raised like he was expecting you to faint into his arms. 

“Are you seriously going to spot me like I’m a toddler on monkey bars, Dr. Li?”

“You’re the one climbing a shelf. The metaphor makes itself.”

You glared down at him. “Do not drop me.”

“I never drop the things I value.”

His voice was too serious, and your pulse quickened at the insinuation behind it. But you shook the delusional notion out of your head as soon as it entered. No, he was simply just being a helpful coworker. 

“That was almost too poetic," you teased. "Are you sure Dr. Greyson didn’t write that line for you?”

He let out a huff. “Come down, Doctor. Please.”

With a sigh, you acquiesced, placing your foot on the shelf below the one you were on. Then, for one distressing second, you slipped, but Zayne was at your side instantly, one hand at your waist, and the other catching your flailing one as you stumbled.

Your heart stuttered.

“See? I told you it was a hazard." Zayne's voice was hoarse despite the forced levity. 

You swallowed thickly as he helped you all the way down, hyper aware of the minimal space between you now. His hand hadn’t moved from your waist, even after both your feet were firmly on the ground, and your faces were far too close. 

You wondered if you imagined the subtle shift in his chest, the faintest hitch in his breathing. His jaw was clenched, his brows furrowed, and his usually unreadable expression seemed almost unsettled.

Was it discomfort? Frustration? You couldn't be sure, and that uncertainty made you uneasy.

You took a slow, calming breath and offered a placid smile, the kind you wore when trying to diffuse tense parents or scared patients. But strangely, it seemed to make matters worse. Zayne’s gaze only darkened, his mouth tightening like he’d eaten something sour. Yet he still didn’t move, or let you go.

You cleared your throat. “I’ll just go ahead and make that call now.”

When you reached toward your phone, his hand shot out and wrapped around your wrist before you could touch it.

You froze. "…Dr. Li?”

His name came out quieter than you meant, the intensity of his grip startling you. It wasn't painful, just firm. You couldn't decide if he was trying to anchor you or himself. 

You watched his throat bob, his eyes darting across your face like he was searching for something.

“Is it really…” he faltered. “Does it not bother you?”

His breath ghosted over your cheek, and you instinctively craned your head backward, trying to give him space, unwilling to make him uncomfortable. It took you a moment to register what he meant, but then, realization flickered behind your eyes.

“Ah… The interns and their jokes? No… it doesn’t really bother me. I mean, medicine is a gruelling field. If they find little ways to have fun, even if it’s at my expense, well…” You shrugged. “I suppose it doesn’t really mean anything, does it? All in good fun.”

You tried to keep your tone light, like none of it affected you. Like the implication that you and Zayne could be anything beyond colleagues didn’t sit heavy and half-formed in your heart each time someone said it aloud. If you turned it into a joke, then it wouldn't hurt as much when everyone else did too. If you pretended it didn't matter, then it didn't. 

When Zayne didn't respond, you winced at your own thoughtlessness. Of course, it irritated him. He wasn't the type to put up with such jokes. Maybe he loathed the idea of being with you in any capacity beyond a fellow staff member. Maybe he was just waiting for you to put a stop to it. 

“I'm sorry," you apologized. “I didn’t realize it bothered you so much. I’ll tell them to stop if you like. I’m sure I can convince them to set their sights on Dr. Greyson and that radiologist he’s been pining after all year instead.” 

You chuckled nervously at the end. A peace offering.

But Zayne didn’t return the gesture. He didn’t even blink. His fingers were still curled around your wrist, and the look in his eyes wasn’t one of amusement.

It was something else entirely.

 "All in good fun," you’d said.

Zayne nearly laughed aloud, except nothing about this felt remotely funny. Not when the only thing separating the two of you was his own desperate willpower. Not when he could feel the heat of your skin beneath his ice-cold palm, and your pulse fluttering wildly under his fingers.

Good fun—was that truly all it had been to you?

Because to him, it had been torment. Every single joke the interns cracked, every knowing glance and coincidental moment engineered to bring the two of you closer had driven Zayne to the edge. At first, he thought he could ignore it, like he did every other distraction in life. He was good at ignoring things and bottling up what shouldn't be felt.

But then came the little things. The way you brought him his morning coffee and favourite macarons every week. The way he had begun to anticipate your presence in his department. And worst of all, you'd laughed through it all. Every ridiculous setup, offhand comment about your compatibility, or synchronized schedules, or some other nonsense—you laughed. 

You smiled as though none of it mattered. As though he didn’t matter.

Meanwhile, he’d spent the past week like a man walking a tightrope over a fire, the heat rising, the air thinning, and the fall inevitable. All while you watched from the sidelines, unaware that his heart was blistering.

And now, here you stood, telling him it didn’t mean anything.

Zayne’s hand tightened slightly on your waist, grounding himself. Your flashlight, perched a few feet away, cast the softest glow upward, catching on your lips, your lashes, and the curve of your cheek.

It was unbearable.

He wanted—no, he needed—to kiss you. To cup your cheek, press his forehead to yours, and tell you how maddeningly bright you made his life. How much he thought about you when you weren’t there. How much he missed your stupid stickers and the smell of your shampoo when you leaned over his desk. And your eyes—gods, your eyes. He could drown in them.

Zayne had always prided himself on control. His life was a sequence of precision and calculation. He had no room for chaos.

But you were chaos. Beautiful, compassionate, infuriating chaos. 

You were the only variable he hadn’t planned for. The only person who could walk into a room and make his carefully built world tilt on its axis. And now you were looking at him with that sheepish expression and apologizing for a joke he would spend the rest of his life chasing the hope of.

How could you stand here, just inches from his mouth, and smile, and ask if he was the one who was bothered? How could you say none of it mattered when he was unravelling, just trying not to tell you he’d been in love with you longer than he’d even allowed himself to realize?

“Because of you, everything is spiralling out of control…” he managed to utter. “How can you pretend you’re not affected?”

Your heart thundered against your ribs, but your eyes were resolutely focused on some point behind his head. “I’m not sure what you mean, Dr. Li.”

Zayne let out a strangled noise of frustration. “I don’t know how much clearer I can make it for you.”

You scowled then, irritation lacing your words. “I suppose you’ll have to spell it out for me. I’m not in the practice of assuming other people’s feelings for them. You can imagine how messy it could get if I infer wrong.”

The silence between you was razor-sharp. Then, Zayne leaned impossibly closer, one hand braced on the shelf behind your head, the other still on your waist.

“Then perhaps I will spell it out for you."

"Best that you do."

He scoffed at that. You were aggravating as always. 

“I think about you constantly," he confessed. "When you’re not there, I look for you. I find myself listening for your voice in every room you do not occupy. I have the sound of your footsteps memorized. Every time someone mentions your name, I can’t help turning my head like a fool. And when you stopped coming around… it felt like someone had taken a scalpel to my lungs.”

He met your stunned gaze head-on, eyes so raw with sincerity you forgot how to breathe.

"You were brilliant back in medical school. You are brilliant now. And I’ve been in awe of you from the moment I met you."

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish pulled out of the water, and all you could give him was a hushed, "Oh."

"You do not need to give me a response, or even return the sentiment," he added hesitantly. "I just needed you to know. I didn’t think I had the right to want someone as exceptional as you, but I do care for you. Deeply. More than I’ve ever known how to say."

Your response was not what he expected. “…Are you feeling alright, Dr. Li?”

He scrutinized you, trying to assess whether you'd gone mad or were mocking him. “Why would I say all of that if I wasn’t?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you’ve come down with a fever. Or had a lapse in judgment. I just—” You paused, your throat tight. “Zayne… are you being serious right now?”

He didn’t flinch when you dropped the formalities. If anything, it made him soften, and he reached up to brush a stray strand of hair from your cheek. “I have never been more serious about anything in my life.”

"Oh."

“I know I said terrible things," he continued, almost desperately. "I know I hurt you. And I will regret it for the rest of my life. But none of that was a reflection of your abilities. It was my own incompetence talking, and my inability to handle things."

You stared at him, wide-eyed, and all the pieces of the past few months—his clumsy efforts, the apologies, the devout offerings—slotted into place with a painful clarity.

But still, your heart throbbed with old bruises. “You made me think I meant nothing to you.”

“I know.” Shame rippled across his face. “And I hate that I did. But you’ve meant something to me for a long time. I just never had the courage to say it, and for that, I will always be sorry.”

You pressed your lips together, trying not to cry, but your ribs ached with the effort.

“I missed you,” you finally whispered. “So much. I thought we were at least friends, and then you went and...”

That was all it took for the tension between you to shift, something tender taking its place. His hand was still resting lightly against your cheek, and his thumb brushed beneath your eye, as if prepared to catch a tear before it could fall. 

“You don’t have to forgive me. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

You looked at him for a long moment before dropping your forehead to rest against his shoulder, avoiding his gaze. “I’m still mad at you.”

“I’d be worried if you weren’t,” he murmured, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

You closed your eyes, enveloped in the scent of him—clean and sharp, like antiseptic and pine and something vaguely citrus. You inhaled it like it might tether you to reality, though part of you wasn’t entirely sure you wanted to stay grounded. This couldn’t possibly be real.

It felt too surreal. His hands steady at your waist, the hushed heat of his breath against your skin, the look in his eyes like you were something precious he was finally allowing himself to reach for. You weren’t sure what to think.

Maybe you were dreaming. After all, how many times had you imagined something like this during med school? Embarrassing little daydreams you'd never dared to speak aloud. You were just a giddy, overworked student back then, half in awe, half in love with the smartest boy in your class. The boy who let you sit beside him during study sessions, and always remembered your coffee order. 

So what were the odds that you’d end up here? In a tiny supply closet, no less. Whispered confessions. Flushed cheeks. Breathless tension. This was either your most vivid delusion yet or...

You pinched his arm

Zayne hummed in response, sounding offended. “Why’d you do that?”

“I’m checking to see if you’re real.” You blinked up at him, dazed. “If this is all real.”

“Don’t people usually pinch themselves in those situations?”

“I suppose… but this seemed more reasonable.”

A fond chuckle escaped him, and it warmed the air between you like sunlight bleeding through storm clouds. “Feel free to report me to HR after all this, if you wish," he stated eventually. 

There was a beat of silence before, to his surprise, you giggled. 

“Is that truly what you think I would do?"

"Wouldn't you?"

You shook your head, your lips twitching. "You're wrong, by the way."

"About what?"

"When you said I wasn't affected. You were wrong."

"Oh."

It was Zayne's turn to look bewildered at your revelation, the realization dawning that maybe you had been teetering close to the very same edge he'd been trying to rein himself back from. 

“You’re staring again,” you pointed out after several moments, half-teasing, but far too gentle for the joke to land.

Zayne didn’t waver. “I’ve wasted enough time not doing it.”

That made your mind fuzzy again, and you felt your throat grow dry. It was suddenly too hot in this cramped space, and there was only enough light for you to see the tension in his jaw. Then he shifted, close enough for his nose to brush yours, but still giving you every opportunity to pull away.

You didn’t.

When he uttered your name, it was a confession on his tongue. 

“Would it be… completely inappropriate if I kissed you now?”

The question nearly broke you, because in all your aching, sleepless nights of imagining this moment, you hadn’t once pictured him asking so gently.

You didn’t answer with words, instead closing the sliver of distance and kissing him.

It was tentative at first. Your fingers found the front of his coat, and his trembled where they cradled your jaw. But then he exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for years. 

He kissed you like he was making up for every second he hadn’t, like he, too, couldn’t quite believe this wasn’t a dream.

When he reluctantly pulled back, his voice was a low rasp. “…Was that alright?”

“You’re about several years late, Dr. Li.”

His lips twitched. “I’ll work on my timing.”

Hope I didn't miss anyone ❤️

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[dreamtaehyung]

zayne x non-mc!fem reader -- married, but you worry it's only because mc (emcee) had left and was never sure on when she'd return. six years later, emcee moves back to linkon, and you feel your worst nightmares start to fester. self-indulgent angst (tw: miscommunication) wc: 3.2k

In a fantasy-like dreamscape, with petals painted in hues of ivory and rouge, you amble down the concrete trail that loops around the park.

You ignore the feeling of being out of place – after all, you’re still in your work blouse, skirt, and heels that are very impractical for a long walk. But in your numbing haze and cloudy mind, you’re welcome to any ache and sore that could keep you grounded to this forsaken planet. The music from your earbuds rings with melancholic songs from some movie soundtrack, though coincidental and fitting for the situation at hand. Eyes glassed over, steps slow and laborious, and shoulders slumped, you walk defeated.

A gust of wind releases the petals from their branches and blooms, a flurry scattering into the open air before flitting, twisting, turning, and gradually falling to the ground beneath your feet. They make you remember a happier time, one that seems to be a waste after all these years. When you look towards the sky, you recall a similar view when you were snug in a wedding dress while making your way down an aisle, your lips curved in a smile as onlookers threw white rose petals into the air. But when you tilt your head down to look in front of you, there is no man in a tailored, pressed suit waiting for you.

He settled by marrying you, a faint whisper reminds you in the back of your mind. You did this to yourself.

Perhaps you did.

There was always the chance that she would come back – you had always dreaded the day, but Zayne was adamant that there was nothing to worry about. He had moved on, and he loved you. There was nothing you needed to fix about yourself, he insisted. He loved you for who you were, and you were grateful – grateful that he still thought of you late at night when stuck in emergency surgeries, that he would buy you pastries anytime he visited the bakery, that he would welcome you into his office during lunch breaks when you had time to step away from your desk.

You were happy to be on his arm at awards and annual galas. You would bask in the moments when you would come out in a new dress and he wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off you. “You look beautiful,” he would say with reverence and adoration, and it was those moments that led you astray from your worries and insecurities. He chose you, and you could tell he didn’t regret choosing you.

That didn’t change until after a few months she returned.

The reason she had been gone for so long was because she had been transferred indefinitely to a remote city that had a massive shortage of Hunters and way too many Wanderers to deal with. From the get go, she had been advised to officially move out of her apartment and was even given a stipend to help with relocation costs. It was for a good cause, and she had always wanted to travel and see the world. Zayne, in all his infinite charity and kindness, made sure to discuss every detail possible with her new physician that would be looking after her and her heart condition. He even went as far as having her sign a release of information to him specifically so that he could access her records remotely.

You understood. Really, you did. She had even made it out to the wedding and stayed afterward to help with cleanup efforts.

But after her return, the more you fell asleep in and woke up to an empty bed, the less sleep you were getting.

How do I bring this up without sounding like a clingy partner? You had wracked your brain for weeks. Zayne was stressed enough as it was, and you really didn’t want to add to it. You had vowed to be the solid ground beneath his feet – to support and keep him stabilized – and not the storm that could topple him over.

But it was so hard.

Fewer texts, fewer check-in’s, fewer notes left behind reminding you of the little things. Fewer reminders that he was ever a tenant in this house – much less, your husband.

Zayne ran on a routine and schedule, but so much spontaneity happens in his daily life that he probably wouldn’t mind a surprise visit for lunch from you. You had picked up his favorite lunch set from the cafe down the street, as well as one for you, and walked towards the hospital. Familiar nurses and doctors greeted you as you did them, quick hello’s and slight nods of the heads. Yvonne recognized you without missing a beat and flashed you a small, but tired smile.

“Long day already?” you softly asked when you stopped at her station.

“Unfortunately, but nothing uncommon,” she joked before taking a look at the brown paper bag in your hand. “Good timing actually, he’s in his office and is free for the next 30 minutes. Dr. Grayson is in there, but it shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Thank you,” you said in a grateful tone and smiled before rounding the corner to your husband’s office.

You slowed and softened your steps to minimize the noise from your heels, wanting to maintain the element of surprise. From down the hall, you could see that his door was cracked open just the slightest, both his and Dr. Grayson’s voices muffled but much clearer once you were in front of it. Just as you were about to push it open, you heard her name and froze.

“--she comes by a lot.”

You heard Zayne reply, “It’s been good catching up with her and being able to check on her condition. Her doctor from her time away should’ve done a better job, but at least nothing major happened.”

“I haven’t seen your wife in a while. More often than not, I’d see her here on your lunch breaks, but it feels like forever.”

Keyboard clicks fill the brief silence. “She’s been busy.”

Have you now?

“You know,” Dr. Grayson starts before pausing. “Wasn’t Emcee your first love or something like that?”

The keyboard clicks stop. “Why do you ask?”

You could hear the shrug in Dr. Grayson’s voice. “I just wonder if anything has changed now that she’s back permanently.”

“...I don’t follow.”

“Do you think anything would’ve happened between you and her had she stayed six years ago?”

A beat passes. Two. Four.

“Perhaps, but there’s no point in dwelling on the what-if’s.”

Your heart sank.

In the very next second, the panic began to course through you, your heartbeat dangerously high. You had a moment of clarity – a miracle, honestly – to step out of your heels and let them hang from your fingers as you walked back to where Yvonne was at a brisk pace. Hospital floor, dust, and infections be damned. Otherwise, the clacking of your heels would’ve alerted them, and that was the last thing you needed. All you thought of in that moment was the need to get out, away from this hospital, away from your husband.

Yvonne had no time to question your sudden return – she hadn’t expected to see you again for at least another 30 minutes – before you set the bag in front of you.

“They seem to be having a really important conversation,” you started, clenching your fists to stop the tremble in your body and trying to maintain a calm voice. “C-can I just leave this here for you to give to him later?”

“Yes, of course,” Yvonne said, picking the bag up to put behind her. Her tone was agreeable, but you could practically feel her confusion between the syllables. “But are you sure you don’t want to wait? Dr. Grayson should be out in a few minutes, if that’s the case.”

“Oh, uhh, I actually just got a text from my boss,” you lied and held up your phone, though it was still a dark screen. “He needs a document at the last minute, so I have to head back anyways. Thank you though!”

With a quick wave goodbye, you left Yvonne no chance to respond and disappeared towards the elevator. Every second that passed was too long, and you almost tripped while trying to slip your heels back on. Your steps were shaky, your frame shuttering with each step, and you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. You should be stronger than this. You should be strong enough to hold yourself together and make it home before you absolutely break and burst at the seams.

Your hands wrung together as the elevator descended towards the ground floor at a snail’s pace. Luckily you were the only one in the compartment, so as soon as the doors had opened, you bolted out of there like someone was chasing you. And in a way, something was chasing you – one of your worst nightmares: the realization that Zayne felt he had no choice but to settle for you.

You crossed the lobby as fast as you could, blinders on and narrowed to nothing but the main doors. They couldn’t slide open fast enough for you, but it granted you a second to call your boss.

“Yes, (Y/N)?”

“I know this is really sudden, and you know I never do this, but I really, really need to take the afternoon off,” you begged, words rolling off your tongue a mile a minute.

“Is everything okay?”

“Not really,” you said with all the bluntness in the universe before you could say anything better. “But it’ll be fine, I’ll be back tomorrow morning.”

“Very well. Call me if you need help with anything.”

“Thank you so much. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good night.”

“See you tomorrow, and you, too.”

Your thumb jabbed the ‘end call’ button as you stared at the street. Where should you go? What should you do? Do you go home?

And that’s how you ended up here, at the park, the skin on the back of your heels chafed horribly, and your brain at a complete loss of what to do now. You haven’t even cried yet because you were still in a state of shock, disassociation.

Aimless, unaware, and lost, you continue your endless journey and are unable to find it in yourself to even sit on one of the many park benches stationed around the path. Because if you sat, you would cry. And if you cry, you would think. And if you think, you would spiral. You would spiral down the black hole of questioning every single thing Zayne has ever done with you, if Zayne ever truly loved you.

Something in the universe says you’re not ready for that yet.

Your phone vibrates from your purse. You take it out with limp hands, slowly and unsure in every way possible, your heart pounding against your chest, as you read the notification on your lock screen.

Husband 💙:

Thank you for lunch. I’m sorry we couldn’t eat together.

Your feet scream in agony as you increase your pace in the direction of the main road. They were probably bleeding at this point, but that was an issue for another time. You flag down a taxi as soon as one appears, and you ask the driver to take you to that 24 hour bookstore-slash-library with the comfy chairs and a cafe attached to it. After all, if you couldn’t stand to be in this world, at least you could escape to another for a little bit of time.

Husband 💙:

Yvonne said you had some type of work emergency. Is everything okay?

-

Several hours passed, in which you were able to acquire a couple of bandaids and alcohol wiping pads, nibble on a biscotti, and dive into a book that you had been putting off for months. Unwillingly, you hear your phone vibrate in your purse. Based on the pattern alone, you know it’s Zayne calling. During your years of dating, you had assigned custom vibrations and ringtones for him and him only. That way, no matter what, you would know it was him calling without having to look at the screen. If this were a normal situation and a normal day, you would’ve picked up without missing a beat. Unfortunately, today has been anything but normal.

You press one of the volume buttons to stop it from vibrating, though his contact information is still splashed across the screen. Your infinite wisdom advises you to let the call run, make him think that you were simply too busy to pick up. Again, an ultra rare occurrence, but not impossible. Your phone screen switches back to your lock screen with a notification of a missed call, and you watch it with wary eyes to see if there would be any follow-up.

There is one in the form of a text.

Bzz-bzz. Make that two.

Husband 💙:

I called to see if you wanted to have dinner together. But as soon as it went to voicemail, we had an emergency surgery come up.

Are you evil to think that the universe has kindly granted you more time to not talk to your husband? It would be appalling to be thankful that someone was hurt enough to warrant an emergency surgery that required your husband’s skills, therefore buying you more time to get your shit together. Diabolical and heartless, someone would probably describe you.

Husband 💙:

Won’t be home til late. Don’t wait up.

But you could only be in a blouse and skirt for so long, and as much as you want to spend the night here, it’s time for you to go home.

At 11PM, there is still no other text or call from Zayne. The house is empty and quiet, much to your relief. His shoes are nowhere to be seen on the shoe rack, so you must be safe. You should have enough time to change, brush your teeth, go to bed, and either actually fall asleep or pretend to be asleep when he eventually makes it home. His messages have been left unread, his call not returned. Once you’re ready for bed and tucked under the covers, the exhaustion of everything pulls you into a deep sleep in record time.

-

You’re practically dead to the world when Zayne comes home, slinking in like a thief in the night. He knows you’re usually asleep at this time, and he doesn’t want to wake you. Perhaps it’s his imagination, but in the few minutes that he can see you, you seem more tired, more haggard. It seems like you’ve lost a little weight, too, but he just doesn’t have the time to ask more about it. All the things that were changing seemed like it’d be best to have a sitdown conversation on a day off, but he’s been so bogged down by work and the return of Emcee that a day off seemed impossible.

As he slips his shoes off, he glances at your heels positioned astray from the shoe rack. The work emergency must have been bad for you to leave them that way. It takes nothing to bring them together and put them away himself, but then his eyes catch onto something that makes him freeze.

Why in the world is there that much blood on the back of your heels?

Were you hurt?

What happened that made you walk around so much to the point that you would let yourself bleed without any attempt to cover them up, or at least put a bandaid over them?

Why would you neglect yourself like that?

Had you already been bleeding when you dropped off his lunch? And if you had, why hadn’t anyone noticed, much less done anything about it?

The bedroom door creaks the slightest bit when he pushes it open, the force behind his fingertips so soft, so afraid to wake you. His eyes cannot help but travel to the foot of the bed where one of your feet sticks out. A small sense of relief fills his chest when he spots the bandaid stuck to the back of your left heel. The closer he gets to you, the more he sees that the bandaid wasn’t applied carefully enough based on the gap between the cotton pad and your wound. Gently, he lifts the blanket up to get a look at your other foot. A matching bandaid is present on your right heel. But at second glance, any relief he had felt disappears into thin air.

He sees the faint indentations of where the leather of your high heels had dug into your skin, a subtle arch decorating the space at the base of your toes. The beginnings of blisters have formed on the side of a few of them as well. It’s no secret to anyone how worn out they seem, that they’ve seen a harder day than usual today. He doesn’t know the cause, and he doesn’t understand why you didn’t even tell him. Zayne fishes his phone out of his pocket and stares at the empty lock screen, showing that you had never responded to his earlier messages. That, in and of itself, was already highly unusual.

He shifts the blanket back over your feet, making sure to cover them both before retreating into their bathroom. Brushing his teeth, rinsing his hair under the sink faucet, and washing his face all feel so mechanical as his mind refuses to turn off, the growing worry spreading like spilled cabernet on a white tablecloth. As he slides into bed, he suddenly feels like a stranger in his own home – like he’s not supposed to be here, to consider this bed as his safe space.

He’ll ask you in the morning, Zayne decides as he falls into a fitful sleep. No surgeries had been scheduled for the morning, which meant he could finally wake up with you for the first time in months. You two would get ready together – you’d tie his tie, he’d help dry the ends of your wet hair fresh out of the shower, you’d pack his lunch, he’d make sure that you leave with a fresh coffee in hand – a routine he has learned to love. The thought of that helps him settle into the sheets, and they feel soft and familiar again. Yes, everything would be fine.

But Zayyne gets a call an hour before your alarm goes off, and is, once again, robbed of one of his most cherished routines. He can’t help but look at your heels again as he slips into his dress shoes. They must be a sign of something to come, something that he may need to be afraid of. He’s not ready for what that may be, but inside, he knows that there’s a countdown.

Zayne doesn’t want to think about the stakes, or the fact that his first prediction – fresh horror and torture – is you leaving him. He cannot let it happen.

[dreamtaehyung]

lads boys during angry sex

disclaimer : MDNI | minors dont interact | explicit | mature | might be triggering for some - read at your own risk.

rafayel

the only time rafayel is not sassy, not dramatic as fuck. instead, his eyes are blazing, as if ignited by his evol, teeth marking your neck, hands gripping your thighs so tight that you know its gonna bruise.

you return his fiery gaze with your own defiant one, meeting his every thrust with your own, nails marking his smooth skin, legs locked around his waist, not giving in, not letting him win.

why was he angry? because you missed his calls and text messages and he was damn worried out of his wits that a wanderer has eaten you - yes, eaten, for dramatic reasons. and when you arrived at his mansion, no words, just marched towards you and grabbed you in a frenzy, intense kiss - not his usual gentle and soft ones.

your defense? your phone was set in 'do not disturb' mode, by accident. he could have let you explain, but given that rafayel hated waiting, you knew you just have to let his fire pass.

after all, angry sex with rafayel is one of your favorites because for once, the sassy painter's mouth is shut and silent. plus he doesnt treat you like a fragile, immaculate thing. its one of those when he fucks you stupid, legs trembling orgasm, knowing that you'd wake up with hoarse voice because you screamed his name all night long.

xavier

xavier shows his vulnerability when angry. and when he does, he loses his control - every bit of control.

angry sex with him means being overstimulated until your mind is totally blank, until he fucks you into apology and swearing you will not be careless again during missions, especially the ones where he is not there with you.

then what started as intense, would eventually lead to the softest, most intimate sex with him, where he'd let you be on top as he memorized every roll of your hips, every movement of your body, the way your lips part to an 'o' while he is seated deep in you.

usually, he controls the tempo, but when he is vulnerable, he just wants to feel the warmth of your body in the most intimate way possible.

zayne

zayne doesnt usually lose his temper, not unless you were compromised by your own recklessness.

and when zayne is mad, you already know what is next, and you cant help but become more cheeky, more sassy, just wanting to push his buttons until he snaps.

why? because you wanted him to let it out. you wanted him to express his deepest, darkest fears and thoughts - lay it bare for you to see. you'd stand there, matching his intense, angry gaze with your own challenging one - baiting him to just let it out.

and when he does? you take it. every thrust, every hold on your neck, every mark on your skin, every dirty whisper in your ear - you take everything.

and once he lets it out, he'd apologize and you will too. then you'd kiss him softly, not allowing him to pull away, and you just show him how important he is to you.

and in the morning, once you're both calm and level headed, you'd talk about it like adults, despite your aching limbs, reminding you of how he folded and split you the night prior... and he'd sigh, knowing that you're still thinking about it.

and he'd raise an amused eyebrow at you, "maybe if you'll promise to make better decisions, i can turn your thoughts into reality."

and you'd do just that so that you can have his lips on your aching core once more.

sylus

two things that make sylus mad : jealousy and refusing his pampering - hence not burning his unlimited wealth.

he'd take that as an insult, offensive.

especially when you use your own money to buy stuff - he'd give you a piece of his mind, while thrusting deep in you to make a point.

he'd keep his composure, his poise, but the way he tortures you - you know he is subduing you, punishing you, not because he is robbing you of freedom - no, not that, since he only has a couple of rules : make good combat decisions for your own safety, loyalty and let him love and spoil you. he doesnt keep you away from your friends - he'll even fund those getaways and girls night out.

so as you stood before him, trying to keep your pride and point, he stares at you with that all-knowing gaze, confident, cocky and devouring, ready to put you in place.

even if you try to dominate him, he'd let you just for fun, but he'd grab the reigns back and put you in place, hitting every spot that makes your toes curl, eyes rolling to the back of your skull, hands holding on to his arms or shoulder for your very dear life.

and he doesn't let you hold back. he'd torture you, inch by inch in the most agonizing way possible, that you can feel every movement, every vein, every twitch - then he'd ram his length hard, and repeat the whole process - driving you insane.

he never considered you as trophy - never. but as his girl, he wanted the best for you. afterall, it's the main reason reason he stacked up his wealth. not using it is an insult to his hardwork.

"so you were saying?" he drawls, voice more husky and low than usual,.watching your lust-filled expression, knowing he has already won this argument.

caleb

an angry caleb means being under his control. he would show you who really owns your body, your lust, your release.

his voice is enough to make you obey, make you pliant.

and his eyes? they're dark, intense and commanding - the kind that makes a whole fleet tremble with just a single gaze.

he would lecture you and you would listen, watch his movements, how his fingers would dance teasingly on your skin, making you shiver, making you anticipate.

and when caleb is like this? you can't find any counter-argument. because he is right, and there is no point in fighting a losing battle.

you'd feel his lips trace your skin, then he'd mark your neck, soothe it with a swipe of his tongue. then he'd hold your neck firmly, controlling your airway, making you gasp as he'd kiss you, his tongue dominating yours.

it would make you light-headed, make you chase his lips as he pulls away.

he'd chuckle darkly, as he'd tell you that you were being difficult, as if you were testing his patience on purpose, as if you wanted him to snap.

caleb would take his time with you. he'd savor every bit of skin, but he will not touch the places where you're aching to be touched, not until you learn your lesson.

then once he starts to touch you in those places, he'll edge you, stop seconds you're about to come, and do it again.

and once you apologize sincerely, he will melt into your arms, then make love to you in the most intimate and sweetest way - as if he wasn't torturing you moments ago.

[dreamtaehyung]

What he'd do on your anniversary

Zayne

A letter that's unreadable because you'd be crying by the first line. Folded with care— probably tucked into a book you had casually mentioned wanting.

"With you, i'd do it all over again."

He's not a natural at cooking, but he's amazing at instructions. Quietly following a tutorial on how to make a dish you'd said you were craving a few days ago, he'd nail it. And hopefully you. I mean-

Rafayel

He would pretend he forgot, when he's had this day marked on his phone for weeks. He'd be super extravagant, even if you didn't ask for it. Rent the whole beach? A rooftop garden?

"...please say you like it or i might throw myself in the ocean."

When you're thoroughly exhausted and beat, laying near the water, he'd roll over onto his stomach and look at you with something like adoration in his eyes.

"You make everything less scary, you know?"

Sylus

He'd buy you a new necklace, and pretend he didn't spend days passing by that same piece and pondering.

"I thought it'd suit you better than the dust it was collecting."

Nonchalant, he's trying to be. He wouldn't go super far with the planning, maybe just a simple dinner in your favourite spot. Two glasses, and food he probably didn't cook. He wouldn't dare to, just in case he ruined it.

"I've never kept a precious gem for so long." He'd say quietly, holding your hand.

Xavier

Pound town.

Caleb

He won't let anyone forget this is the day you officially became his. Before the sun even rises, 12am, sharp. Your phone is blowing up with pictures he posted onto his 'moments'.

"Happy anniversary to me and my pipsqueak :P"

He makes it sound playful, but it's actually a serious warning to anyone who tries to be funny. You're off-limits.

Oh, gifts? Not just one. Several. A framed photo of the both of you, custom bracelet with your first name and his last name, you name it. It's like Christmas morning came early.

"I know, i know you said you didn't want anything... but i wasn't listening."

[dreamtaehyung]

— h is for hands in hair

“you’re in a mood,” rafayel murmured, low and amused.

he leaned back against the couch cushions, spread out like he owned the world. you were straddling him, knees tucked to either side of his thighs, fingers resting lightly on his shoulders. and for once, he wasn’t the one leading.

“maybe i am,” you said, soft but dangerous.

his brows rose, a slow grin tugging at his lips. “oh? you gonna do something about it, pretty?”

that was the last smug word out of his mouth before your fingers slid into his hair gently before you tugged. not cruel. not mean. but enough to tilt his head back and make him breathe differently.

“fuck,” he whispered, eyes half-lidded.

the kiss started like it always did with him, soft and teasing. your lips were brushing, breath shared, but you didn’t pull away this time. nor waited for his usual smirking comment or theatrical moan.

you deepened it. your hands held his face still. fingers tightening in that soft, purple hair he took so much pride in. and when you needy licked into his mouth, he groaned.

“baby,” he gasped between kisses, his hands gripping your hips like he didn’t know whether to pull you closer or worship you on the spot. “what are you doing to me?”

you smiled against his mouth. “taking what i want.”

his eyes fluttered shut at that and his breath hitched. and when you kissed down the line of his jaw, teeth dragging just a little against his throat, he tipped his head to the side with a soft, shaky exhale, submitting without even realizing it.

“oh my—,” he murmured, half-laughing, half-ruined. “who taught you how to do this?”

you tugged his hair again and his hands spasmed against your waist.

“don’t worry,” you whispered, lips ghosting his ear. “i’m not done yet.”

“please don’t be,” he choked.

you leaned back to look at him. your face was flushed, mouth swollen, pupils blown wide, and he stared at you like you’d flipped his entire world upside down.

“you’re gonna kill me,” he said hoarsely.

you smiled, kissed him one more time. then ran your fingers through his hair gently, soothing where you’d pulled, “i’ll bring you back to life.”

and he believed you, because with your hands in his hair, he’d follow you anywhere.

[dreamtaehyung]

— i is for innocence

“you always look at me like that.” zayne’s voice was low, unreadable. his hands were still folded neatly in his lap, calm despite the way his gaze had pinned you where you sat across from him.

you blinked. “like what?”

“like you don’t know what i’m thinking.”

his eyes dragged over you slow and deliberate. “or maybe you do. and you’re just pretending.”

your breath caught. “i’m not—” you started, but the words trailed off as he stood.

zayne didn’t move quickly. he never needed to. every step was measured, silent, precise until he was in front of you, towering above you, shadows cast by the soft lighting dancing along his jaw. you looked up at him wide-eyed and barely breathing.

he tilted his head. “that’s the look.”

“what look?”

he crouched in front of you, eyes never leaving yours. “the one that makes me forget i’m supposed to behave.”

“zayne…” you swallowed thickly.

he reached up, one hand brushing your cheek featherlight. “you’re so sweet,” he whispered, fingertips trailing to your jaw. “you let me talk to you like this, touch you like this. and you still look at me like i’m safe.”

“you are safe,” you breathed.

his smile was tragic, like he didn’t believe it. like he didn’t deserve it. “i’m not. not with you.”

he leaned in slowly, enough for your foreheads to brush and your breath mingling.

“i think about kissing you every time you say my name,” he murmured. “i think about what sounds you’d make if i used my mouth somewhere else.”

your knees shifted instinctively. he noticed.

“i think about how innocent you are,” he added, voice dropping to a gravelly hush. “and how badly i want to be the one who changes that.”

your chest rose and fell in shallow waves. his hand moved to your knee, as he spoke tenderly, “but i won’t rush you. you deserve soft. slow. you deserve someone who makes you feel safe even when your hands are shaking.”

you stared at him, overwhelmed, “zayne, do you really think i’m innocent?”

“i know you are.” his thumb brushed across your cheek, down to your lower lip, barely touching. “and it makes me want to worship you. ruin you.”

you felt your breath hitch. but when he leaned back, he was composed again. always in control. as if none of that fire had just left his mouth.

“say the word,” he said softly. “and i’ll wait.”

you didn’t say anything. you just leaned forward and put your forehead against his, fingers trembling as they tangled in the hem of his shirt. “don’t wait.”

and that’s when he exhaled, like you’d just set him free.

[dreamtaehyung]

breathe | rafayel

trying to get away from the fast paced city life, you stumble across a charming merman during a trip back to your hometown.

content: merman!rafayel, rafayel x reader, small town au, fluff, humour, raf is naked for five seconds

word count: 4.2k

note: this is just a product of raf’s new myth (still not over it) and me watching aquamarine one too many times in my life 😭 enjoy!

Mermaid sightings were a common occurrence in the quaint little beach town where you grew up. Be it scary stories to keep the kids away from the high tides or the various conspiracy theories spread around the schools and workplaces — as a child with no stable internet access and only one yearly trip to the city for Christmas, you believed it all. Perhaps it was because nobody around you ever questioned the existence of them. The charming town was rich in culture and history where both young and old enjoyed passing around folktales about the civilisation under the sea.

There was also the fact that you swore on your own life that you saw a mermaid for yourself. At the tender age of ten, you were ankle deep in the beach sand and staring much too closely at the horizon when you saw it in the distance. An iridescent tail and long tresses of dark hair flailing in the sky before disappearing back into the water. You had scurried to the boardwalk and shared your sighting to anyone who would listen.

But then you got older. You left for the big city and your childhood mermaid tails became nothing but a lighthearted conversation starter. People would laugh, they’d call your childlike wonder cute before moving on to something else. Eventually you started to wonder if you were just naive having grown up so isolated from the fast paced reality of those your age. It was probably time to grow up and leave those silly fantasies behind just like how you’d packed up your suitcases five years ago.

But how could anyone just ignore something that they’d seen so clearly as a child? How could you stuff that memory into the back of your mind, never to be mentioned again? Maybe the years away from your little hometown had given you these sensationalised thoughts and memories that probably weren’t true at all.

So after being away from it all, you decided to pay a visit to your old backwards beach town.

You stood at the shoreline, your feet dipping into the wet sand as you waited for the gentle wave to hit you. There was something so comforting about it, the repetitive motion of being splashed then gradually being pulled deeper and deeper into the water until the lifeguard yelled at you for not staying in the demarcated lines. The way each wave was bigger or smaller than the last, the distant laughter of the children playing in the sand and the warmth of the sun on your skin, it was a sharp contrast from the fast paced, bustling city.

The peace was momentarily disrupted by a beach ball smacking your backside and you flinched, turning around to see a group of primary school kids sheepishly waving at you to throw the ball back. You lazily stumbled out of the water to return the ball to them, giving them a small smile as they thanked you politely before grabbing your towel and strolling down the length of the beach. Your sandals weren’t offering much support but you enjoyed the feeling of the coarse sand against your feet. Nothing would feel more like home than this.

You knew if you walked further enough you’d end up at a secluded rock pool, shaded enough to shield you from the blistering sunshine and quiet enough to dissociate yourself from your endless thoughts. As soon as you arrived, you threw your towel off and sat down at the edge, dipping your bare feet into the icy water. A tall rock wall separated you from the rest of the beach, covered in overgrown flora. The gentle slosh of the water grounded you and made you appreciate your decision to take some time off. The town was just as beautiful as you remembered, albeit the mermaid stories had toned down. It was probably just different experiencing everything as an adult now and not a simple minded kid.

The atmosphere was so serene that you unconsciously closed your eyes, leaning back on your elbows and inhaling the distinct smell of saltwater and moss.

And then you felt a tug on your ankle which jolted you right out of your short lived daze. You frantically sat upright, your eyes darting around the pool but finding nothing. You looked down at your feet still submerged in the water and there was nothing hooked onto you, no bugs, no leaves, no litter. Absolutely nothing.

The pool remained eerily still as you tried to convince yourself that it was most likely just a ripple in the water that had given you a shock. And you would’ve happily believed that explanation had it not been for the man that just popped his head up from under the water a small distance away, even though everything had been clear just a moment ago.

Out of pure shock, you screamed before clamping your hand over your mouth and pulling your legs out of the water.

“What the hell dude?” You asked in exasperation once you’d calmed down from the initial surprise.

“I thought you were sleeping.” The man said calmly, his long purple hair resting in the water like a cloak around his bare shoulders. His matching eyes shone almost unnaturally.

“So you decide to just grab my leg?” You frowned at him in annoyance, trying to ignore the unsettling feeling you got when he looked right at you, “you can go to jail for that.”

“I can?” He titled his head to the side cluelessly, “you humans are always so harsh.”

“You hum- why did you say tha-“

The answer to your question came out before you could even finish asking it. The man paddled closer and behind him was a large, shimmering fish tail splashing against the water. He swam to the edge of the rock pool where you were seated and rested his head on his arms, smiling up at you in amusement.

“I thought you believed in merpeople?” He asked cheekily as if he were enjoying how flustered you were becoming, “didn’t the founder of your town fall in love with one of us?”

That was true. It was an old tale told to kids before they could even talk yet. You hadn’t believed it more than you did right then and there, staring at this man with his majestic tail lazily swinging back and forth above the water’s surface. You were rooted to your spot, staring at the creature in disbelief with your knees pressed against your chest and your mouth slightly ajar.

“Well?” He cocked his head to the side, letting little trickles of water roll down his porcelain face.

“I- uh I-“ You stammered, unable to even process your thoughts, better yet formulate a coherent sentence.

“Oh cutie I’ve got no time for this, I’m in danger.” The merman let out a deep breath dramatically.

“Danger? What do yo-“

“It’s fishing season you see,” he explained theatrically, a certain flair to his voice and mannerisms that were both amusing and captivating, “all the sharks are getting closer to the surface and, let’s face it, who wouldn’t want a bite of me?”

“Uh I mean-“

“So naturally I swam for my life and I was oh so fortunate to come across a kind human like yourself,” he interrupted you again, “now won’t you be a doll and help me?”

“Help you? Um uh… I’m not exactly experienced in fighting sharks.” You responded awkwardly.

“Cutie, I’m not asking you to fight a shark,” he giggled, the sound echoing against the rocks, “just hide me for a bit yeah? When the sun goes down it’ll be safer for me to swim along home.”

“Where um… where would I hide you?” You scratched the back of your neck, peering down at him still relaxing in the water — not at all like someone being chased down by a shark.

“You’ve got a house?” He asked.

“Yeah but-“

“That’ll do!” He grinned and before you knew it, he was hauling himself out of the water.

Your eyes widened as his tail disappeared behind a whirlwind of droplets only to be replaced by a pair of tanned slender legs. His skin was damn and flawless, his delicate hair reaching the backs of his knees. He stood there proudly, hands on his hips and wearing absolutely… nothing.

You shrieked, immediately closing your eyes and turning your back to him. “You’re naked!”

“Very minuscule things seem to bother you, cutie.” He said in a thoughtful tone, as if you were the peculiar creature that required further observation.

“Well, if we have to make it up to my house you can’t be walking around naked.” You insisted, your eyes still closed as you fished for your beach towel.

“Very well, I’m willing to stoop down to these excessive human customs,” he grumbled, spreading his arms out as you quickly wrapped the towel around his waist and secured it tightly, “where can I find a getup like yours, dear?”

“Uh we can probably stop by the boardwalk and get you a bathing suit.” You stood back as your eyes opened and you finally took him in in all his glory. He stood a few spaces taller than you with a sharp, dainty nose, bright, inquisitive eyes and soft, pink lips, making him prettier than any man you’d met before.

He snickered when he caught you staring up at him in awe. He reached out to playfully poke your nose to get your attention back to the conversation at hand. His bony finger was cold and a bit sticky.

“It's impolite to stare,” he teased, “perhaps… you have a question for me? Or maybe several?”

“What’s your name?” You asked softly when you finally found your voice again.

“Rafayel,” he answered smugly, like even knowing his name was a privilege, “and what’s yours?”

“______.” You replied, creeping away from the rock pool as you scoped out the area for anyone passing by.

“And are you a peasant or noble or something in between?” Rafayel asked nonchalantly, hovering behind you until you could literally feel his breath on the back of your neck. How was he walking and breathing right now? Why did he just blindly trust you when any regular person would run at the opportunity to shove him in a science lab? Was he just naive? The questions in your mind seemed endless.

“In our world we don’t have things like that.” You explained, trying to remain calm as you walked out onto the beach. Time had seemed to stop at the rock pool, but back on the beach things were just as you left them. People were still diving in the gentle waves, playing volleyball or enjoying ice cream sundaes on the pier.

“You seem like something in between,” he rambled on, falling into step next to you, “your choice of clothing is very… modest, but with your kindness I think you’d make a nice servant back at my palace.”

Your gaze unconsciously fell down to your attire, a simple bathing suit that you’d owned for years and a pair of flats. Your face grew warm at his blunt comment but you brushed it off. Clearly merpeople, or at least the ones like him, preferred to be straight forward.

“Your palace? So you’re a noble?” You asked despite your eyes not meeting his. Instead your attention was everywhere else, taking in the obvious stares and murmurs from the people you passed by. It wasn’t everyday you’d see a six foot tall man with long, flowy purple hair and confidence that would leave anyone speechless.

“Cutie, I'm the prince of Lumeria,” he announced with that flamboyant drawl that you were quickly becoming accustomed to, “this part of the ocean is practically all mine.”

“You should do something about the sharks then.” You pointed out rather cheekily, a small smile coming onto his face as he scoffed.

“Those heinous creatures cannot be controlled, even by the prince himself,” Rafayel rolled his eyes before stopping dead in his tracks, “hmm what’s that?”

You followed his gaze to the local ice cream parlour, a tiny haven offering ice pops and ice cream cones to beat the sweltering heat.

“Uh ice cream? It’s a dessert,” You explained, watching as he stared intently at a couple sharing a soda float, “why don’t we get ice cream after we find you some clothes?”

“Oh that would be splendid.” A grin formed onto Rafayel’s face, making him almost appear… endearing.

You led him away to the nearest swimwear boutique, greeting the familiar owner briefly before shoving Rafayel into the men’s section. The poised prince strolled through the racks of swimming trunks and rash guards before his eyes lit up and he pulled out the loudest pair of swim shorts you’d seen in your entire life. Bright blue with red and yellow surfboards patterned all over, he seemed so proud of his choice and you didn’t have the heart to tell him you thought they looked hideous. So with that, Rafayel ducked into the change room to slip on his trunks while you paid the cashier.

“It’s much hotter up here than I expected.” Rafayel fanned himself as you both walked back to the ice cream shop.

“Why don’t you tie your hair up?” You instinctively tugged the hairband off your wrist and held it up to him.

“You have the honour.” He hummed before turning his back to you.

You blinked twice, frozen for a moment before you realised that he was waiting for you to tie his hair back. Your hands gingerly raised up to the nape of his neck, slowly gathering up his copious amount of hair between your fingers. The amethyst strands were wiry but soft, heavy as you secured them back with the hairband. Once he had a decent ponytail, you took a step back to admire your work.

“That feels much better cutie, thanks.” Rafayel whipped around quick enough to catch your shy smile and give you a sly one of his own.

“Why do you keep calling me cutie?” You pondered, heading into the parlour with him.

“Because you’re a cutie,” he shrugged like it was the most obvious answer before immediately getting distracted by the various desserts and ice cream flavours on display, “what’s the best one to try?”

“Probably the pistachio sir.” The shop attendant suggested politely, amused by Rafayel’s childlike wonder as he pressed his hands and face against the glass display.

“I’ll most definitely be having that.” He said firmly.

“It’s a bit of an acquired taste, Rafayel, you might not-“

“Don’t worry cutie, if it’s a customer favourite, I will most probably enjoy it.”

You sighed softly at his insistence and ordered two ice cream cones, one caramel and one pistachio. You both exited the shop and settled down on a nearby bench to finish your cones. Rafayel took an adventurous lick of his ice cream and he most definitely did not enjoy it, judging by the way his face scrunched up in disgust.

“Here, I’ll have yours.” He held his cone in front of your face and already swooped in to grab yours.

“Wait what? You already licked it.” You complained, holding your own cone out of his reach.

“Oh come on, I’m the cleanest fish in the sea.” He pouted adorably and it would’ve taken a great amount of willpower to deny him — willpower that you obviously did not have as you reluctantly swapped cones with him.

“Ah much better.” He smiled contentedly, humming in delight at the caramel taste.

“You’re lucky I do enjoy pistachio.” You mumbled.

“I’ve been having quite the lucky day it seems,” he laughed under his breath, “and it all started by stumbling across you.”

“You should thank the shark.” You replied dryly, but it earned a hearty laugh out of him.

“Speaking of which,” he popped the last bit of his cone into his mouth before turning to face you — it was an adorable quirk you’d noticed how all his attention had to be on you when addressing you, “are we going to your house now?”

“My…? Oh yes, right this way.” You got up from your seat, dusting the crumbs off your shorts.

“Hold on, cutie.” Rafayel stood up as well before abruptly reaching out to touch your face, to which you instinctively jumped back.

“What are you doing?” Your eyes blew wide before relaxing when you saw the confused look on his face.

“You have some ice cream on your lips, I wanted to wipe it away.” He frowned sassily, his hands finding refuge on his hips instead.

“I see… sorry I was just startled.” You shook your head, gesturing for him to start following you.

“I was just trying to copy that fella over there,” he explained, a pep in his step as he walked next to you, “it was so cute the way he cleaned the young lady’s face, do humans do that often?”

You both strolled away from the boardwalk and navigated through the old wooden shops and apartment buildings, taking it slow on the uphill stoned pathways. The warm breeze rustled against your skin and golden hue was beginning to engulf the town, signalling that the sun would be setting any time now and this crazy experience would be over soon. You felt as though you were lucid dreaming, ready to wake up in a cold sweat and realise all of this — the handsome merman entrusting you with his life — would be gone in the morning.

“Only when they’re in an intimate relationship,” you explained, your eyes straight ahead as your small family home came into view, “friends don’t usually do things like that.”

“Oh splendid, are we considered friends?” He asked in delight.

“I guess so?” You turned your head to catch the satisfied grin on his lips and the way the afternoon sun was bouncing off his skin.

“Is this your home?” He snapped you out of your daze as he calmly walked to your front door and began jostling the handle.

“Yes, sorry it’s locked.” You laughed, rushing to his side and using your key to open the sticky wooden door.

The house was small, a standard size for your humble neighbourhood. With well loved pieces of mismatched furniture, shelves packed with generations of family memorabilia and wooden walls and floorboards that had corroded over years and years of being near the ocean — it was home and it gave you an immense amount of comfort that made this impromptu trip all worth it.

Rafayel looked so out of place, his undeniable aura seeming so huge in this cozy, simple place. But he didn’t seem to mind at all. If anything he seemed so fascinated by everything.

“Do you stay here alone?” He asked as he inspected every corner, haphazardly lifting up different picture frames and trinkets that caught his attention.

“Um yes but just for this vacation,” you hovered behind him, making sure he didn’t break anything, “it’s my childhood home.”

“Then that cutie must be you.” He grinned, pointing towards a rather embarrassing photo of you plopped down in the backyard as a chubby, snotty little kid.

“Yeah that’s me.” You sighed softly.

“So you’re here for a vacation? A holiday?” He asked curiously before he flung the back double doors wide open and sauntered onto the porch that overlooked the entire town.

“Yes I um… I hadn’t been back to my hometown for a bit so I wanted to come and visit,” you said as you stood next to him, your eyes fixed on him while he stared out at the view in front of him, “it gets a bit stuffy and overwhelming in the city sometimes so… it’s nice to just take things slow.”

You didn’t know why you added that last part. He didn’t ask for further explanation and yet you found the words just fell off your lips so easily. You couldn’t explain why; maybe it was his naivety or his curiosity or the fact that this either wasn’t real or it’d be over soon enough, the strangely charming merman made you want to open up. It was like seeing this mystical being healed that little kid in you that believed in him all this time.

“Slow is good,” he let out a small huff of laughter, his hands perched on his hips as he turned to look at you, “like today, we didn’t do much but I really enjoyed myself.”

“Anyways… the sun is gonna set soon, I’m sure that shark has stopped looking for you.” You stated in amusement.

“Ah…” Rafayel smiled sheepishly, a flush of heat rising to his face as he averted his gaze again, “about that…”

“Rafayel…” You frowned, folding your arms and squaring up to him.

“There… may… not have been a shark to begin with,” he said through awkward, breathless chuckles, “who’s to say?”

“I should’ve guessed,” you groaned, closing and opening your eyes briefly, “from the get go you didn’t exactly look like someone hiding for your life.”

“I just… I’ve never been to the surface before and when I stumbled across a human that wasn’t coming at me with a spear and a fishing net,” Rafayel sighed dramatically, “I saw the opportunity and took it… I’m… sorry…”

You stifled a slight laugh as he forced out the apology. Clearly a prince of his calibre was used to charming his way into everything he wanted, he had no need to be apologising for anything.

“You didn’t have to lie though,” you shrugged, all your suspicions dissipating, “if you wanted a tour guide, I would’ve happily done it anyways.”

“Oh cutie, you’re just beautiful inside and out!” He gushed and suddenly scooped you up into a tight embrace, “trust the heavens for allowing me to meet the most amazing human!”

You found yourself laughing at his theatrics, unconsciously wrapping your arms around his shoulders and dissolving into his hug. He was so warm from a day spent in the sun and his long ponytail fell over his shoulder, ticking your skin here and there like delicate butterfly kisses. You gently pulled away, your hands secured on his bare shoulders as you looked up into his shining eyes. The sun was slowly setting behind him and it felt as if you were in a daze, time standing still.

“Thank you… for today.” Rafayel said in an uncharacteristically soft tone but with that airy charm still present.

And then he leaned down, nuzzling his nose against yours playfully. You couldn’t hold back that soft smile that graced your lips, quietly tugging away from him and clearing your throat.

“We don’t want the kingdom thinking their prince got captured,” you joked lightly, “should we head back?”

“Oh but their prince did have his heart captured rather,” he gracefully intertwined his fingers with yours, “but yes, do be a dear and guide me back to that rock pool.”

You walked hand in hand down the quiet pathways back to the boardwalk. The locals were packing up their shops and stalls, beach goers were washing up their sandy clothes and kids were running around, playing in the streets. The both of you bypassed all of it, too engrossed with each other as you finally arrived at the rock pool. Rafayel gently let go of your hand before climbing back into the water, submerging himself right underneath.

You crouched down near the edge of the pool, peering inside and straining your eyes under the dim lighting to see his pair of legs transform back into his large, magnificent tail. He elegantly emerged back to the surface of the water, pulling his hair out of the loose ponytail and handing the hair tie back to you.

“Keep it.” You waved him off.

“It’s a bit difficult to tie my hair like you did under water, darling.” He tilted his head to the side, resting his chin on his forearms.

“Well, just consider it a keepsake.” You smiled shyly.

“I can’t deny it’ll be nice to have something to remind me that this day was real.” Rafayel nestled closer, your faces just inches apart.

“And what keepsake do I get?” Because oh boy did you need something to acknowledge this crazy day actually happened.

“Well I guess you do deserve some compensation for being an excellent tour guide,” he hums softly, as though he were thinking about it deeply, “close your eyes cutie.”

You obliged without question, your eyes fluttering closed in anticipation. The air was still for a millisecond before you felt his breath ghosting over your face followed by a small, cold sphere being pressed against your lips. Your eyes still closed, his wet hand came up to cup your chin and coaxed your mouth open. The sphere delicately fell onto your tongue, but you couldn’t process anything fast enough before his lips were on yours in a kiss that spoke volumes. His movements were slow and calculated, careful enough not to jostle the pearl in your mouth but passionate enough that your breath was caught in your throat.

Eventually he pulled away, a playful smirk on his mouth as he watched you open your eyes in disbelief.

“Keep that pearl safe, cutie,” he slowly backed away in the water, “and who knows? Maybe I’ll visit you again soon.”