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Zayne Drabble

Zayne doesn’t say he loves you. No — wait… let me rephrase that. He can’t say that he loves you.

It hurts, both emotionally and physically for Zayne. His love for you is so great but can’t physically say it to you. 

The God, Astra forbids him to do so. In no matter what timeline, if he dares to utter such words — a curse will be laid upon him, making him feel the most excruciating pain as his ice covers his body.

But even then, Zayne will love you unconditionally and will continue to do so.

You feel cold? Here, have his coat.

You need something from the store? Wait for him, he’ll buy it for you on the way.

You like this food? He’ll remember it and cook it for you in the future.

Zayne will put his hand on your waist when walking together, to ensure that you don’t get separated from him. His grip always feel protective, gentle, and possessive.

In each appointment that you're almost always late on, makes him feel anxious and worried — thinking if you are in danger or if something has happened. Once you enter his office, he feels instant relief and immediately regain his composure. Though his words sound cold and distant, he is only hiding his true feelings.

This man, when it is time to sleep, always prioritizes your comfort before his. He’d pull you close, — hesitant at first, scared that his evol will act up — tucking your head towards his chest as he breathes in the scent of your shampoo. Feeling the warmth of your body assures him that you are well and alive and right beside him.

Zayne can’t say that he loved you, however, through his actions — you know how deeply in love he is with you. In this timeline… he’ll protect you and not lose you. 

Not again.

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➸ I need you…

Scenario:

Zayne let out a deep sigh as he removed his surgical mask, the exhaustion of the past week etched into his sharp features. As the chief of surgery and a top cardiac surgeon at Akso Hospital, his schedule was relentless. But now, after what seemed like an eternity, he had a rare three-day break. He entered his apartment, greeted by the quietness that now felt alien to him. It was well past midnight, but he knew {{user}} would still be awake, likely worrying about him as always. He dialed her number, his voice softer than usual. "It's me. I’m home. Can you come over?" {{user}} arrived swiftly, concern flickering in her eyes as she took in his weary appearance. "You look exhausted, Zayne." Zayne managed a faint smile, his green eyes softening at the sight of her. "I am, but seeing you makes it better." His body looked visibly relaxed, letting his guard down now that he is with {{user}} — her very presence already relaxing him from stress. He leaned in, his forehead resting against hers. "Stay with me tonight," he whispered, his voice laced with longing. "I need you.”

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【ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔｓ】

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➸ Welcome home~

Scenario:

{{user}} sighed as her body slumped over her desk, tired of everything. Lately, she hasn’t seen her lover, Zayne, in a while and she misses him deeply. {{user}} grumbled as she straightened her back, glaring at the pile of paperwork she has to do— however, the sight of the picture of both her and Zayne framed next to her computer made her eyes soften. Just from seeing his face, {{user}} became determined to finish her work and go home quickly to see her beloved. A few hours later she went home, sighing in relief at the thought of finally resting. Before she could do anything, a cold hand helped her remove her jacket, making her flinch from the unexpected touch. {{user}} turned around, expecting an intruder but instead saw familiar green eyes. “Zayne…?” She whispered, not realizing how much she missed seeing his face. Zayne's lips curled into a rare, gentle smile. "Welcome home," he said softly, his deep voice soothing her tired soul. He pulled her into a tight embrace, his touch firm yet tender, melting away the day's weariness. {{user}} leaned her body to his, loving the feeling of being in his arms again.

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【ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔｓ】

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➸ Jealous Zayne?!

Scenario:

Zayne loves and trusts his lover very much, however… He doesn’t like it when another man is trying to hit on {{user}} even though both of them are currently in a date. They were seated at a cozy, upscale restaurant, enjoying a rare evening out together. Zayne had been looking forward to this, a chance to unwind and savor {{user}}'s company. The evening was perfect until an overly friendly waiter approached their table, his eyes lingering too long on {{user}}. Zayne’s grip on his wine glass tightened, his green eyes narrowing as he watched the interaction. He forced a calm exterior, but inside, a storm of possessiveness brewed. He listened to the man's attempts at flirtation, each word stoking the icy fire within him. He closed his eyes and sighed loudly, he set his glass down and stared at the waiter coldly. “I think my lover would much prefer continuing our date, peacefully.” Zayne said, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge of threat. The man looked taken aback, but a glance at Zayne’s sharp features and cold, unwavering gaze made him think twice. “Uh, sure. Enjoy your evening,” he muttered before quickly retreating.

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【ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔｓ】

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➸ Let’s test that, shall we? (NSFW)

Scenario:

“Hey {{user}}! Did you hear about the rumor?” Her friend, Tara, asked {{user}} quite excitedly. {{user}} shook her head, furrowing her brows together at the sight of the mischievous face of Tara. “Apparently,” Tara looked around for other people and leaned in to {{user}}’s ear, whispering softly, “Drinking pineapple juice makes your taste sweeter.” {{user}} giggled, rolling her eyes. “Really, Tara? Where do you hear these things?” Tara grinned. “It’s all over social media! People are swearing by it. You should try it and see if it makes a difference with Zayne.” Later that day, {{user}} couldn’t shake the curiosity. What if the rumor was true? She started drinking pineapple juice every day, making it a part of her routine. She didn’t mention it to Zayne, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. A week passed, and Zayne began to notice the change. “You’ve been drinking a lot of pineapple juice lately. Is it your new favorite or something?” he asked one evening as they prepared dinner together. {{user}} blushed, hesitating before answering. “Well, Tara told me about this rumor that pineapple juice can... um... make things sweeter. You know, in bed.” Zayne raised an eyebrow, a rare smile tugging at his lips. “Is that so?” Seeing {{user}} nod shyly, he chuckled softly, his green eyes darkening. He pushed {{user}}’s body against the counter, placing both his hands at the counter beside of her body, trapping her. “There’s only one way to find out if it’s true.” He whispered, leaning his face closer to her lips. “Let’s test that, shall we?”

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【ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔｓ】

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Zayne deserves all the love in the world 😊

I’ll never get tired of saying that I love him

Hair Washing [Husband!Zayne x GenderNeutral!Reader]

Summary: You take care of Zayne and he allows it for once in his life.

Tags: Established Relationship, Married life, Hair Washing, Self Degradation, Hurt/Comfort, Self Indulgent, Workaholic and Stubborn Zayne, Domestic fluff, Non-sexual Intimacy, Romance.

Zayne drove his Audi into the garage, the purr of the engine fading to silence as he cut the ignition. As the garage door descended, shutting out the world where it was just him in his car — his forehead resting against the steering wheel, eyes closed, the weight of a 16-hour shift was hitting him like a fire being snuffed out by a lid. 

'Pull yourself together,' Zayne chided internally, straightening up with a soft inaudible groan. 

Flipping down the sun visor mirror, Zayne assessed his reflection. Dark circles lurked beneath his hazel eyes, his hair was slightly disheveled, and his skin lost a bit of its glow. Zayne grabbed a comb and meticulously smoothed out his hair into place. 

'You have no right to burden others with your childish grievances,' Zayne reminded himself, a mantra born of years of self-imposed stoicism. Zayne would not allow himself to ever burden you with such a pitiful thing such as tiredness or to ever make you worry as long as he lived. 

Satisfied with his appearance, Zayne exited the car, his movements deliberately measured to hide his bone-deep fatigue that threatened to consume him. As he approached the house, he took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. The mask, Dr. Zayne — the Cardiac Surgeon, slid off as he was now Zayne, your husband. He opened the door, stepping into the warmth of your shared home. 

Zayne called out to you, "I'm home," his voice was steady and neutral, betraying none of the relief he felt at finally being home to where you were, in the house you two had lived in and cherished.

The sounds of rapid footsteps echoed through the house, and Zayne felt a flutter of warmth in his chest. You appeared, eyes bright with joy and relief that your beloved husband came home from work. For a moment, Zayne allowed a soft smile to tug at the corner of his lips as he drank in the sight of his partner. 

Your heart raced at the sight of Zayne, a mix of excitement and concern washed over you. You rushed forward, arms outreached for a hug, but you stopped mid-motion as you took in Zayne's appearance. Despite Zayne's immaculate exterior, you knew Zayne more than anyone else to know that he was tired —  the slight degree of a slump in Zayne's shoulders, the barely perceptible tightness around Zayne's eyes, the shadows under Zayne's eyes being a shade too dark. Your heart clenched, seeing the man you loved with your entire soul, pushing himself so hard. 

"Zayne, you look tired," You said softly as you reached out to touch Zayne's arm. Your fingers trembled slightly, torn between the desire to pull him close and the fear of overstepping even if you two were already married. "Let me take care of you tonight."

Zayne felt a surge of conflicting emotions at your words —  gratitude warring with his ingrained need for self-reliance. It was always Zayne treating and spoiling you, and not the other way around. Even the times when you tried to spoil him back, Zayne would always find a way to turn it around so that it was back to him spoiling you. His eyebrow arched slightly, his expression shifting to one of mild amusement to hide the vulnerability he felt.

"I'm fine," Zayne replied, his tone leaving  no room for argument, even as an iota of him longed to give in, "It was just another day at the hospital." Zayne knew that he couldn't convince you since you were as stubborn as him, but it couldn't hurt to try.

 Your eyes narrowed, unconvinced. You could see the weariness Zayne was trying so hard to hide, and it made your chest tighten with worry. You insisted, "You've been gone for over 16 hours and this was the 3rd time this week back to back that you've had these long shifts. You need to rest. Let me help you rest." 

"I assure you, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I've had longer shifts that were more troubling throughout the years," Zayne countered, a hint of stubbornness creeping into his voice. Even as he spoke, he felt his resolve wavering under your gaze —  he hated concerning you. He hated making you feel this way —  he hated himself for making you feel this way. 

You stepped closer, your hand was gentle but insistent on Zayne's arm. You could feel the tension in his muscles and the slight tremor of exhaustion. "Please, Zayne," you pleaded, "Let me do this for you once. You always take care of me, let me take care of you sometimes. Even if it's on a blue moon, let me take care of you once." 

Zayne's eyes shifted away as he let out a sigh, the rigid set of his shoulders relaxed a bit. A wave of tenderness washed over him, mingled with gratitude as he reluctantly gave in. "Fine," Zayne conceded, his tone was of his usual deadpan but it was tinged with affection. "If it will put your mind at ease." 

Your face broke into a warm smile, relief and love shining in your eyes. You grabbed Zayne’s hand as you led Zayne towards the bathroom. Zayne allowed himself to lean slightly into your touch. For once, Zayne allowed himself to accept the care he so often denied himself. 

You filled the bathtub with hot water, the sound of rushing liquid filling the quiet room. You added a generous amount of bubble bath, watching as frothy suds formed on the surface. The scent of rose oil wafted through the air as you added a few drops of it to the water. Your heart raced in anticipation and nervousness, hoping that you’d be able to take away Zayne’s stress. 

Soft light from carefully placed candles flickered across the walls as you dimmed the overhead lights. You turned to Zayne who stood in the doorway — a hint of vulnerability in his usually stoic expression. 

“Come,” You said softly, extending your hand out towards him. Zayne took your hand, allowing himself to be led to the bathtub. He raised your hand up to his lips as he gave your knuckles a soft kiss as a thank you. Zayne didn’t know the last time someone had put effort into him that wasn’t you — at least, someone who didn’t have any outside intentions of being nice to him. Zayne was forever thankful that he had such a kind spouse in his life, that out of all the lives he had lived, that he was able to be with you in this one.

As Zayne settled into the warm water, a soft sigh escaped his lips. The tension he’d been carrying began to melt away, and he closed his eyes to savor the sensation. Your heart swelled with affection at the sight of Zayne finally relaxing.

With gentle movements, you began to soak Zayne’s hair with warm water. Your fingers combed through the dark strands, careful not to tug or cause discomfort. Zayne’s breathing deepened slightly, the rhythmic motion lulled him into a state of calm he only experienced with and around you. 

You reached for the shampoo, squeezing a small amount into your palm. The fresh, clean scent filled the air as you began to work it into Zayne’s scalp. Starting at the temples, you used your fingertips to massage in small, circular motions, applying gentle pressure to stimulate blood flow and to clean all of Zayne’s hair and his head. As your fingers worked their way to the base of Zayne’s skull, you could feel the tension that Zayne’s been holding start to loosen. Zayne let out a low hum of appreciation —  the sound sending a small flutter though your chest. God, you loved your husband so much. You worked the shampoo through the rest of Zayne’s hair.

Once Zayne’s hair was thoroughly lathered, you began to rinse it clean. You used a small cup to pour warm water over his head —  your other hand acted as a shield to prevent shampoo from running into his eyes. Zayne’s thoughts drifted, the simple act of being cared for stirred emotions that he usually kept tightly controlled.

Next, You reached for the conditioner, applying a generous amount through Zayne’s hair —  focusing on the ends which tended to be drier. You began to massage Zayne’s scalp once more.You used your thumbs as you applied pressure to the occipital ridge at the base of Zayne’s skull. You then moved to the crown, using your fingertips to make small circular motions. You paid special attention to Zayne’s temples as you used gentle sweeping motions with your thumbs to ease away the day’s stress.

As your fingers worked their magic, Zayne felt himself surrendering to the care being lavished upon him as his eyes fluttered closed once more, his entire body relaxing in the hot water. A surge of protectiveness and tenderness surged through you as you noticed the change in Zayne’s demeanor. You bent your head down as you placed a soft kiss on your husband’s lips who reciprocated the kiss with even more gentleness in his movements.

“Thank you,” Zayne murmured against your lips— his voice was low and thick with emotion. The simple phrase carried the weight of all the gratitude and affection he struggled to express aloud.

You continued massaging Zayne’s scalp as you replied to him softly, “Always.”

The rhythmic pitter-patter of water being poured filled the air as you rinsed out Zayne’s hair; steam curled lazily around them, carrying the fading scent of the conditioner. Zayne’s breathing slowed as the last of the conditioner washed away. Your hand found Zayne’s elbow, steadying him as he rose. The sudden change in position sent a momentary rush to Zayne’s head, his usual grace faltering. Your eyes met Zayne’s briefly in the foggy mirror as you reached for the robe hanging nearby; the dark purple fabric rich against the bathroom’s pale tiles. As you helped Zayne slip on the robe, the soft material settled against his skin, still warm and slightly damp. The sound of footsteps resonated through the house as you both made your way to the bedroom. The air was cooler, raising goosebumps on Zayne’s exposed skin. He sank down onto the bed’s edge; the mattress dipped slightly under his weight. You moved behind him with a towel in hand. The first touch of terrycloth against Zayne’s nape sent a shiver down his spine — bare perceptible but there. You towel dried Zayne’s hair as his eyelids grew heavy; his usual sharp focus softened around the edges.  You reached over to the nightstand where you grabbed the comb, its teeth scraped gently against Zayne’s scalp, with each pass detangling your husband’s hair — detangling all of the stress in Zayne’s mind who only focused on you and your touch. A clock ticked softly somewhere as the lamp on the other side of the bedroom casted a warm glow that softened the lines of their faces, illuminating your faces and your love. As you worked, Zayne found his gaze drawn to your reflection in the dresser mirror. He watched the play of emotions across your face: concentration in the slight furrow of your brows with care in the gentle set of your mouth. Something stirred in Zayne’s chest — an emotion he had sought after for so long that he would fight with his entire soul to keep.

“I love you.”

“I love you most”.

It was more than just a hair wash to both you and Zayne; it was an act of love, trust, and vulnerability that would deepen your bond in ways words could never express. 

A/N: I love Zayne. I really really really love Zayne as you can tell. Have I mentioned that I love Zayne? Because I love Zayne. I have Zayne smut in drafts thats halfway written :3

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Masterlist

yeS I WOULD LIKE TO FIND OUT 😊🤭

Usually, you would be the one whining to Zayne after days of not seeing him, the first to cave in and say that you miss him. But what if it was the opposite?

You and Zayne had barely seen each other for almost two weeks, owing to hectic schedules brought by the peak seasons for wanderer attacks and illness. After having been used to seeing you around nearly everyday, Zayne found it almost excruciatingly difficult to wait until the next week when work in the hospital finally mellows down. Especially because it has been so long (it’s been three days) since the last time he’s ever kissed you properly, the pent up need in him to be able to feel your lips against his once more made it hard for him to focus on anything but you.

So the moment he finally has a free day, he bolts straight to your office. He stops just at the entrance, pacing back and forth as his last shred of sanity held him back from impulsively grabbing you away from your workplace. The guard standing by the door takes notice, and, having already been aquainted with Zayne, invites him to wait for you by the lobby. It was there that you bumped into Zayne, who was still battling with this rationality. You jogged up to him, noticing with concern the tight knit in his eyebrows.

“Who’s troubling my beloved snowman?” You ask in greeting, noting with some amusement the surprise in your boyfriend’s eyes. It was only after a few moments of silence that he replied.

“Your beloved snowman has been searching for his heart.” He takes your hand in his, then continues, “They said the most beautiful woman here has it.”

You jokingly look around, and, in faux disappointment, you reply, “That’s too bad, there’s a lot of beautiful women here. The snowman would have to spend years before finding it.”

Zayne smiles and shakes his head, “No need. Fortunately, the most beautiful woman is already standing right in front of me.”

“Is it just me or did you get a lot cheesier today?” You asked, flustered, as you playfully sent a punch to his arm. As heat rises to your cheeks, Zayne feels the most euphoric he’s ever been in a week. Tracing random shapes on your hand, he admires your flushed cheeks, basking in the warmth you radiate that he had been deprived of for too long.

“Let’s just say a lot can change over a week. You just haven’t been around recently to see it.” He replies, his hands slowly reaching up to trace the curve of your waist. His touch, at first tentative, left a trail of fire that ignited a familiar, but nearly distant heat in your bones that left you aching, wanting for more.

You raise a brow, not paying mind to the steady blush forming on your cheeks as Zayne continues his ministrations. What you did notice was his roundabout way of saying he missed you. Dearly. Enough to be dramatic about it, and enough to have gotten a day off.

Then, he stands up, his body still too close to be appropriate for public space. He leans forward, his breath tickling your ears as he whispers, “What time does your shift end?”. He does not miss the way your breath hitches and your ears redden as you try to feign nonchalance. As always, you were never one to take his provocations silently.

“Why? Can’t get enough of me?” You whisper in return, your lips just slightly brushing against his neck in just the right way to make him go crazy. His adam’s apple bobs and he breathes out an almost shaky sigh, a clear indication of your success.

Zayne was acting a lot differently than usual — more touchy, more flirty, and less restrained. You liked seeing him like this, and you loved pressing on the right buttons to rile him up even more. But of course, he would never let you do that without having the last word, “Would you like to find out?”