☃️❄️doctor zayne incredulously tracks down your ovulation cycle, ☃️❄️ -> no it’s not a coincidence that when you’re ovulating, he suddenly wears the grey joggers and compression shirt in the house.
he starts wearing his reading glasses more often around your fertile window. not because he needs them for anything urgent, just because he knows the way you stare at him adjusting them mid-sentence makes your thighs press together. he’ll catch you looking, pause, then slowly push the frames up with one long finger while saying “focus. i’m explaining something important.” ugh he’s such a slut /aff
the moment your app pings the high-fertility alert (yes he has access, you gave it willingly 😏 ) he switches to darker, richer cologne, the one with cedar and something dangerously warm underneath. he’ll lean over you to grab something from a high shelf and let the scent settle right against your neck. “you’re breathing faster,” he notes like he’s taking vitals. “noted.” slap him with a stick you’re not slick doctor zayne 😩
he keeps those dark chocolate squares, you know? the ones with pheromones 🫣and your favorite heated blanket ready in the bedside drawer during those days. when you ask why he’s so prepared he just says “anticipatory care” with the straightest face, then pulls you onto his lap so you can feel exactly how anticipatory he really is.
mid-makeout he’ll stop, press two cool fingers right over your lower abdomen and murmur “right here. your endometrium is thickening optimally this cycle.” it’s clinical. it’s filthy. your brain melts either way. he smiles, small, dangerous — when you whimper in the hardest fluster.
he’s started “accidentally” leaving his white coat draped over the couch chair during peak days. when you bury your face in it later (because of course you do), it smells like hospital antiseptic + him + faint trace of the soap he uses. he walks in, sees you, and simply says “thief” before pinning you down with the coat still half on you.
during sex he gets quieter than usual; more outcome focused if anything. 🙂↕️ every thrust measured like he’s timing contractions. when you beg him to go harder he leans down, lips brushing your ear: “patience. your cervix is softer today. let me take my time.” then he does exactly that until you’re shaking. he loves making you sob on his cock all the time though, doesn’t matter if you’re ovulating or naur.
post-orgasm he doesn’t pull out right away. instead he stays seated deep, one hand splayed over your stomach, on the fading bulge. the other stroking your hair while he quietly counts your heartbeats against his chest. “you’re my joy.” he can be so sensitive when he needs to be. <3
he once left a single sticky note on the fridge during your fertile window that just said: “come find me. exam room 2.” you found him in the hospital, shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows, tie loosened, stethoscope around his neck like he’s about to give a very personal examination. you guys 🫵🏻 are freaks 🫵🏻
zayne doesn’t do coincidence. he does preparation, observation, and devastating execution, especially when your body is screaming for him and gives him a chance to create a mini you/him.