hello!! i really like your writng! i was hoping if i can request a one shot with sylus or zayne with a non!mc reader where she’s kinda mean and purposefully makes herself look intimidating to scare others off bc it’s a defense mechanism they developed but really the reader is actually sensitive and a bit of a crybaby and just needs someone to lean on
have a nice day!!
thank you so much for this request! i went with zayne if that's okay! i'll most likely post one for sylus within the next week or so! :)
Guarded Heart
pairing: zayne x non!mc reader
synopsis: zayne meets an icy anesthesiologist with a tough exterior
word count: 3.8k words
author's note: wrote this in one sitting so...i do apologize if it's lame and not good at all haha
content warning: brief mentions of bullying & death, slight medical descriptions, slight self deprecating thoughts
ao3 link here!
It is a sunny day in Linkon. Birds are singing, the breeze is perfectly chilled to combat the scorching heat of the sun, and the air smells crisp instead of like smog. A ladybug flies onto your shoulder, resting on the hot leather as you rush towards the hospital doors.
Once glance at your chunky black watch reminds you just how late you are to prepare for your first on-call shift at Akso Hospital.
You weave through the group of people who stand in front of the hospital doors. They stand and take pictures, balloons and signs in their hands. A sign flies in your face! You jump to the side, barely missing a man who steps away from the group. Spinning on your heels, a gasp flies from your lips, a taller and much more muscular man colliding into you.
Warmth spreads across your chest, the smell of rich, velvety chocolate filling your nostrils. Your t-shirt and leather jacket stick to your skin. The group to the side gasps, muffled laughter clouding you and the man.
“I am very sorry,” his voice is calm and steady, a little too steady for your taste. If anything, it makes you even more irritated.
“It’s fine,” you feel him wipe covered first along your chest. You push his hands away, stepping around him. He turns and grabs your wrist.
“May I get your number? Allow me to pay for the dry cleaning of the clothes,” he continues. You turn and look up at him, ripping your hand away. His eyes are remarkable; hazel hues burn into your own. You gulp and push some hair behind your ear, taking hurried steps backwards.
“No, it’s fine,” your tone is sharper than you intended it to be.
Then again, you have never been known to be the kindest person out of the bunch.
You walk inside the hospital, catching your breath. You rip your leather jacket off of your body, your shirt stuck to your skin, leaving you feeling sticky and uncomfortable. As you walk down the halls, people avoid you and your icy glare, a snarl curled on your face. They part and hug the walls, your shoes sticking to the floor with every step you take. It only irritates you more. Your nostrils flare and you puff out steam through your nose.
You head up the stairs, not wanting to be stuck in an elevator with people looking at you as if you’re the problem, and go up the three flights of stairs with ease. As soon as you step into the small locker room for anesthesiologists, you’re met with a disapproving look.
“You’re late.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.”
“You know you’re on call, right?”
“I was just on my lunch break, Dave,” you shoot a glare at the oversized man, shoving your belongings into your metal locker. You pull out your navy blue scrubs, eyeing the bathroom that Dave stands in front of.
“You’re lucky there wasn’t an emergency,” he slowly chews his potato chips. The crunch sends uncomfortable shivers down your spine, making your skin crawl.
“Yep. I know,” you push him out of the way, slamming the bathroom door shut behind you. You begin to chance when Dave’s voice makes you pause.
“A bitch as always.”
Your eyes close, shoulders slumping. Has your reputation come to this? Are you only known as a bitch to your peers? You’re here to do a job. So what if you don’t smile or stay in the cafeteria for lunch! They’re just your co-workers, not your friends.
The pager on your hip sounds off. You look down, sliding your feet into your designated work sneakers. The code tells you that it’s a patient coming in from an ambulance needing emergency surgery. A sigh fills the bathroom before you leave, slipping out before Dave can get in another jab.
Nurses and doctors stare at you as you pass. You push your messy hair behind your ear, the lingering smell of sugar and chocolate giving you a slight headache as you push through the emergency surgical bay doors on the first floor. You nod your head at the nurses who quickly scrub in and pluck a mask from a nearby box, placing it over your face.
The doors open once again and a tall man with dark hair steps through. The nurses’ eyes move to him; their shoulders connect as they giggle behind hushed whispers and quiet voices. You raise an eyebrow, cracking your fingers when you finally stare at the man. He’s tall and his muscles flex underneath his lab coat. He turns directly to the sinks and begins his sterilization process.
The realization hits you when you’re finally able to place his face.
He’s the man who spilled hot chocolate on you, making you late for the second half of your shift. You quickly step inside the empty surgical room, waiting for the trauma patient to be wheeled in.
A few minutes later, just as the tall man steps inside, wearing a teal surgical gown matched with light blue gloves and a mask over his face. His eyes flicker to yours while you stand by your equipment. You narrow your eyes at him, heat flooding your cheeks, the need to protect yourself rising in your chest.
Neither of you say a thing, not like you want to, and the tension filled stare is broken just as the patient is wheeled inside the room. The two of you jump into action,
The surgery takes an hour and forty seven minutes to complete. It’s twelve minutes over Zayne’s personal best, but that’s because of the new recruits continually asking him questions while ignoring the blood that floods chest cavity.
You, on the other hand, were phenomenal. When he was able to look away, which was barely ever, he stole glances at you while you monitored the patient’s vitals. Every so often, he would ask you about the patient’s vitals and you immediately responded with the information he wanted to know. You even adjusted the anesthesia when he voiced what he was going to do next. You were able to slow the heart just right so he can focus and see where the knife sliced into the left chamber. The slow heartbeats helped him slip the near-microscopic needle in and out of the organ while he stitched it up.
It was because of you that Zayne was able to relax after the surgery knowing that his stitches were perfect and that the patient will have an easy, yet slow and meticulous, recovery.
Zayne pokes his head around the hospital trying to find you. You weren’t with the other anesthesiologists nor were you in the cafeteria or break rooms that are scattered throughout the hospital. When one of the nurses who was in the operating room with you noticed his frustration, he finally asked who you were.
“Oh her? She’s…off-putting to say the least,” she begins with an eye roll. “Nobody really likes her but she gets the job done so I guess she’s sticking round because of it.”
“Do you know where I can find her?” Zayne asks with a slight head tilt. The nurse’s eyes open wide.
“I…I don’t know, Dr. Zayne. She’s a loner and doesn’t really talk to anyone.”
Zayne frowns and crosses his arms over his chest. The nurse goes quiet, scratching the back of her neck before eventually walking away, shame written all over her face.
Why were people so cruel to you? If you were good at your job, which you are, why do they say cruel and nasty things about you? It confuses him. A person should be judged on their merit, not because of how introverted you are or if you have one bad day.
Little did he know that you pushed people away on purpose. It’s not like you wanted to. You just couldn’t bring yourself to be openly happy and carefree as others are.
You have gone through so much drama and have been through so many scandals that it has put you off from letting people in entirely. Your teenage years were cruel to you; bullies were relentless and their words and actions beat you down into nothing. It didn’t get better when you went off to university where your roommate purposefully locked you out of the dorm when you went to go take a shower.
People are cruel. You don’t need them and you certainly don’t need anyone else that’s new. The risk is too great to take on. You don’t even think you can go through another heartbreak or cruel friendship.
You always found yourself in the solitude of the hospital’s extra courtyard. It sits behind the tall building, covered in the building’s shadows when the sun moved to the other side of the sky. You liked looking at the flowers and watching the butterflies flutter past. It was also nice that nobody else really came into the courtyard. You were able to sit in solitude during your breaks or after a tension filled surgery like the one just half an hour ago.
“You’re a hard woman to find.”
You jump in the metal bench, which has been designed to look like a pair of roses that sit next to each other, and turn around to see the tall surgeon from before. He wears glasses with thin metal rims and his scrubs are covered with a new lab coat, one that isn’t covered with the remnants of his drink that morning.
“I don’t want to be found,” you respond, turning back around on the bench. You pick at the skin around your fingernails, needing to give your body to do something to distract yourself from the handsome man.
Zayne circles around and stands in front of you. He shoves his hands into his coat pockets, a habit he picked up from other surgeons to protect his hands, and sighs. He sits down on a chair across from you, only a few feet away. You avoid his hazel eyes at all costs, slowly inhaling the hot summer breeze.
“My name is—”
“Dr. Zayne,” you finish his sentence for him. He slowly nods. His eyes remain on you. “I know. You have an impressive résumé.”
“Do I?” A faint smile spreads across his lips. You finally look at him, catching the tail end of his grin before it disappears. “This is my first time here. It’s nice. Are you in here often?”
“Yes,” a part of you doesn’t know why you responded to him, “nobody knows about it. It’s...nice.” You turn your body to fully face him now. He matches your movement, one eyebrow slightly quirking up, gently urging you to continue.
But you don’t.
Bugs and insects fly around you. Butterflies flap their wings and hummingbirds stop at the feeders with the sugary pink water. Zayne observes the courtyard, wondering how he has never noticed it before. It’s all thanks to you that he is able to find solitude in such a chaotic environment.
You and Zayne sit in a comfortable silence. It’s something you aren’t used to but it feels nice. You don’t know whether his intentions are pure or not. You don’t seem to mind the company though.
“May I join you for lunch here tomorrow?” Zayne requests.
“Yes,” the answer leaves your lips before you can stop it. Zayne nods, a slight smile spreading across his lips, and he stands up.
“Wonderful. I will see you tomorrow.”
The next day, Zayne is early with his lunch, even having bought you a bottle of water just in case you didn’t have one. Hydration is key, after all! You rolled your eyes and sat next to him on the bench. You finally have him your name and filled in him in on how long you’ve been working at Akso.
“How have I never seen you before?” he asked with pure and genuine curiosity in his voice.
“I don’t know. I usually work with obstetrics,” you shrug. Zayne hides a smile on his face. He likes that you help bring new life into the world. He’ll have to swing by during some downtime to see you in action.
Zayne shows up the next day even earlier just to see you. You walk out with headphones on, a small scowl on your face while you swipe through your phone. He watches you closely; he watches as a bee flies past your face and you don’t swat at it, instead smiling and waiting for it to pass before moving on.
You find out that Zayne asked around about you. You hid the blush on your face as Dave throws a note Zayne wrote at you. His kind words, and typical doctor handwriting, makes you swoon. Your icy heart melts ever so slightly.
Not even a week later, you get the request from your supervisor to be temporarily switched over to the Cardiac department. As soon as you arrive, Zayne is the first one to welcome you. While everyone else avoids you due to your bitchy reputation, Zayne is quick to show you around and introduce you to everyone despite there being no smile on your face.
Three months later Zayne asks you to be his girlfriend.
He asked you after a particularly stressful shift. He showed up to your apartment, which was surprisingly close to his place, still in his scrubs, and knocked on your door until you answered. Your hair was a mess from the deep sleep you were in matched with dark purple bags under your eyes. A yawn barely left your lips when Zayne broke the silence.
“I lost a patient today.”
“Oh…I’m so sorry, Zayne. That must have been really hard.”
“It was,” he nods and looks down at you, out of breath from running up the stairs to your door, “it made me think.”
“Yes? About what?” you raise an eyebrow and step through the door. He takes your hand and places it over his heart. His touch wakes you up, energy flushing through your body. Your eyes widen. His heart pounds inside his chest.
“Be my girlfriend.”
“What?”
“Will you please be my girlfriend?” Zayne’s voice is breathy yet steady. A small smile spreads across your face. You slowly nod.
“Yes. I would love to be your girlfriend.”
Maybe people aren’t so bad after all.
The two of you have fallen into a unique rhythm. It was convenient that the two of you worked at the hospital. Zayne even pulled a few strings for your shifts to line up, even going as far as to claim you as the Cardiac Unit’s main anesthesiologist.
Zayne slowly pushes through your icy interior, learning that you are one of the most caring and loving people he has ever met. You love your job as much as he does and also found out that you hate carrots, alongside eggplants and people who use the word ‘moist’.
As the weeks pass, you notice that people still talk about you behind your back despite being much nicer to your face. Dave and the other anesthesiologists whisper about you when you leave the room and the nurses that work alongside Zayne always look at you like you are on the scum on the bottom of their shoes. It doesn’t bother you.
Or, at least you thought it didn’t.
You always pretended like their comments don’t mean anything to you. Zayne always moved to say something but you stopped him every time, telling him that it isn’t worth it. He always frowned when you said this but respected your choice, whisking you away to your secret place in the courtyard.
The nights you spend alone and away from him are the nights you cry yourself to sleep, the aching pain of their comments slicing into your skin, breaking the armor you built for yourself. You stayed up late those nights, staring at yourself in the mirror as the thoughts of self deprecation and sadness creeped throughout your body.
You sit in Zayne’s comfortable office, looking outside the window. A bird flies by while singing its song and chases after another, escaping your line of sight. His door is cracked open, having just steppe out for a moment. You click on your app, trying to clear the stage in the grocery store app Zayne installed for you. Your brows furrow together. The small carrot icons mock you, the third one nowhere to be found.
“Fuck you, carrots,” you murmur.
“Can you believe her?” a nurse by the name of Tabitha says outside Zayne’s door. Your ears perk up, head tilting in their direction.
“I know! How can he be with someone like her?”
Your heart sinks in your chest. Slowly pushing out of the chair, you inch towards the door. their voices grow louder. They are completely unaware of your presence lurking behind the wooden door. The more they speak, the more apparent it becomes that nobody in the hospital likes you. Everyone finds you weird, off-putting, crass, and obnoxious.
“She’s so weird! She’s probably blackmailing him to date her! How can a man like him ever go for a cold bitch like her?”
“I don’t know! Maybe she baby trapped him!”
“Cause that’s just what we need! Another version of her running around here!”
You sink away from the door, dissociating as you grab your purse. Another voice, male, comes into the mix. You don’t pay attention to it, though, and slip your phone and hospital I.D. into your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. Zayne’s office door creaks open and he kicks it closed behind him, a cup of coffee and hot chocolate in his hands.
“Sorry I’m late, my love, an intern needed help with a few questions,” Zayne’s calm voice makes your eyes sting. You keep your back to him, ashamed to even look at the man you love.
Is he aware of how the people in the hospital think of you? Does he even care that they wish nothing but the worst for you?
No…Zayne probably doesn’t know. After all, you’re just a woman who doesn’t care about what other people think, right? You’re an ice cold bitch who doesn’t have feelings so why should it even matter?
When you turn around, a pained expression on your face, Zayne pauses. You avoid his gaze, opting to look at the ground instead of him. He places the cups on the side table next to the door and immediately walks up to you. He takes the purse and places it on the chair, grabbing your hands, lacing your fingers together.
“What’s wrong, my love? Is everything okay?” Zayne asks despite the creeping suspicion that it has something to do with Tabitha and Tiffany on the other side of the door.
He was quick to put them in their place, yes, and reminded them of just how valuable and important you are to the team at Akso, but he didn’t think that you were paying attention to their words.
“I’m fine,” you groan. You try to peel your hands away from his but his grip remains firm. “Zayne, please, I need to go—”
“No, you don’t,” he retorts in a calm tone. “You offered to stay with me while I finished paperwork.”
Tears sting your eyes, threatening to fall. Shallow breaths leave your chest. Zayne pulls you to him, tucking your hair behind your ear. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.
The kiss soothes you, helping calm some of your anxiety, but it’s not enough to pull the knife that was lodged into your back. You close your eyes and press your forehead against his chest. You tremble in his arms. Zayne places his hand on the back of your head, smoothing down your hair. You listen to his heartbeat. Every beat urges your tears forward and eventually you begin to cry, the weight of everyone’s dislike towards you finally causing you to crumble.
“It’s alright, honey, I got you, let it all out,” Zayne coos. You shudder into his chest, hands weakly wrapping around him. You grab a fistful of his shirt and loosen it from its tight tuck into his pants.
“I don’t know why they hate me so much,” you cry out. Your tears dampen his shirt. He rubs circles into your back, a frown overtaking his face. “I mind my own business! I say good morning and wave! I even brought donuts one day like you suggested!”
“I know, dear, I know,” Zayne sighs. He places his cheek onto the top of your head, pulling you closer into his body.
After knowing you for the past few months, Zayne has fallen in love with every side of you. He adores the hard glare you give him when he wakes you up from your morning shift. He loves the small smiles whenever he surprises you with a sweet treat after a long night shift. He loves the way you melt into his embrace when you’re in bed at night ready to go to sleep.
And most of all, Zayne loves the sweet, sensitive girl that you hide away. The one that cares about everyone and wants to save the world. That is the woman he fell in love with, not the reputation that others thrust onto you.
“You don’t need them,” Zayne sighs into your hair. Your sniffle against his chest, not daring to move. “They clearly cannot see the amazing woman that you are, but they will soon. It takes time.”
“Why are you so nice to me?” you cry even more, hugging him ever closer to you. Zayne sighs and gives you a reassuring squeeze. “I don’t deserve you.”
You believed it, too. Zayne has always been so patient with you. He’s stuck by your side through thick and thin, waiting for you to let him in. It took awhile, yes, but he got there, finally penetrating the high walls you have built around yourself. He has been so kind and gentle with you, even reassuring you that he loves and cares for you when you silently needed it the most.
“You deserve me because I love you. I want nothing but the best for best for you, even if it means I have to give a stern lecture to those who hurt you,” Zayne’s tone is unusually light. It makes you laugh through your cries. He smiles and kisses the top of your head. You slowly pull away from him and he wipes away the tears from your face.
“Do you mean it?”
“Yes. I will talk to them if you want me to.”
“No, Zayne, I meant about you…loving me.”
“Oh,” Zayne smiles down at you. He nods. “Yes. I do love you. More than you can even imagine.”
“I love you too,” you smile. You stare into those beautiful hazel eyes of his and remember why he has been the only person to melt your icy exterior. “Thank you for being so patient with me. I’m…I’m trying.”
“I know, my love, and I will wait for you no matter how long it takes.”
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