#medplay

your mind was hazy, your brain foggy as you felt yourself begin to take in the world around you — the flicker of fluorescent bulbs above your head, the smell of latex, the cold leather beneath your bare arms. your mind was racing and yet, no thoughts could come forward except an overwhelming sense of confusion.

where am i? how did i get here?

“it’s okay to feel disoriented. dont worry, the anesthesia will wear off soon.” an unfamiliar, gritty voice spoke gently by your ear.

you turned your head softly, a slight pinch aching down your neck as your eyes began to focus.

“where am i?” your voice was hoarse, like you hadn’t drank anything in days.

“you had an accident,” the man snapped on a fresh pair of gloves as he began to examine your face, or presumably the wounds on your face. “i found you by the side of the road in your car, do you remember that, y/n?”

“how do you know my name?” you flinched softly as he tugged on a stitch just beneath your eye. checking his handiwork which made you more nervous by the minute as you slowly began to realize that you weren’t in a hospital at all.

“i checked your ID when i found you. you were pretty cut up, i had to put you under to stitch you up but don’t worry, you’re good as new. at least, almost good as new.” his eyes were gentle, but dark. like all he lived for was helping people, which would make sense as to why he would take you somewhere other than a hospital, but you wouldn’t mention that just yet.

“almost?”

the corner of his mouth tugged up into a grin and you watched him swallow, his attention shifting from your face to your chest as he began to work around your no longer white tank top. “i’d like to keep you for observation, just to make sure everything is okay.”

you choked back a swallow through the dryness of your mouth, “and keep me where, exactly?”

for a brief moment his eyes met yours, there was no denying how handsome he was, but he was a stranger nonetheless.

“my home.”

“do you always bring strangers back to your home and perform strange operations on them?”

his grin deepened, “only the pretty ones.”

you felt your cheeks begin to flush, your mind now becoming extremely aware of the nature of the situation you were in. this man had practically kidnapped you. he was playing god.

his examination continued to your navel, his fingers lifting the hem of your shirt gently before inspecting a wound on your lower abdomen, one that looked perfectly stitched, and maybe even partially healed.

a silence spread through the room that made the hairs stand up on your arms and a tingle run down your spine. you glanced around, noticing the lack of windows, only a simple steel door and various medical utensils, all laid out on bubblegum pink drape sheets.

“what kind of doctor are you?” your breath hitched as his gloved fingers fell to the button on your jeans, your palms salivating as you felt your nerves begin to tense.

“a real one, if that’s what you’re wondering.” he paused for a moment to look up at you, the dimple in his cheek acting as an apology for the way his hands began to undo your jeans.

“w-why do you need to do that?” your voice broke as you clenched your legs together.

his hands paused momentarily, “you have a cut on your upper thigh, i’m just checking your stitches.”

“why didn’t you take me to a real hospital? do you have a god complex or something?”

he snickered, one hand on either side of your hip as he worked your jeans off, goosebumps arriving in their wake, “you weren’t dying, just really cut up.”

“and you couldn’t have brought me to a hospital to have them stitch me back up?”

he shook his head slowly, carefully parting your thighs as he began to inspect the now stitched gash, “i don’t like sharing.”

his gloved hand ran up the stitches gently, tugging at one end to test it’s durability, a whine catching in your throat at the strange new pain.

his movements continued, one hand braced higher up while the other traced his handiwork.

“perfect,” he muttered under his breath, the rasp in his voice becoming more and more prevalent, “so beautiful.”

you held back the urge to squirm beneath his touch, his attention devoted entirely to close to your now desperate center.

“please,” you whined, “just take me to a real doctor.”

his grip on your thigh tightened, a yelp escaping your mouth as he let out an unsatisfied tsk, “i am a real doctor.”

he released your thighs abruptly, rolling back to his tray table to remove his gloves, putting on a new pair before returning between your thighs.

“maybe you should learn to be a better patient, hmm? wouldn’t want me to restrain you now would we?” he growled, a single gloved finger landing on the lower hem of your panties.

your legs tensed, your body overwhelmed with fear and desire as you watched the handsome man begin to trace the outline of your folds.

“just be a good girl and sit still for me,” your mind went blank as you felt a single gloved finger slip beneath your panties, swirling around your soppy cunt like it was looking for a place to call home.

you were frozen with fear, and yet, your body continued to weep for the mysterious doctor whose name you didn’t even know.

he removed his gloved finger, only to bring it up to your mouth, your eyes honing in on the way the black latex glimmered with your slick.

“taste yourself, darling.”

your eyes meet, and you see the faintest shimmer of something beneath his cold, dark exterior — obsession.

this man thrived off of the two highest peaks of human nature — saving lives and sex. he was obsessed with bringing you back to life with his hands, in more ways than one.

you leaned forward, remaining eye contact as you parted your lips, sucking in his finger to taste your own sweetness and the bitterness of his gloves.

you wondered what his hands looked like bare. were they pale and cold like his face? or were they warm and gentle, tracing over every bruise on your body to heal you from the inside out?

he let out a soft groan before falling back beneath your legs, all patience leaving his body as he wrapped his fingers around your panties, removing them completely.

you could feel your face flush, your body on full display beneath the fluorescent lights, but the man before you didn’t notice, his mind completely entranced by the sight of your pink, throbbing, pussy in front of him.

but as quickly as the thought had appeared, it was gone, and replaced by two of his glove covered digits tracing your bare folds, collecting all of your wetness and plunging into you without warning.

your body lurched forward, a moan escaping your still parted lips as his mouth found your neck.

“see, sweetheart. the thing about the human body is, is that it bounces back very quickly,” he began pressing open mouth kisses onto your cold, damp skin, “just yesterday you were laying here on this table, fully unconscious, vulnerable to me in a way that’s entirely rare and raw,” he stopped at your ear to nibble it softly, his words lingering as he spoke, “if i were a bad man, i could’ve taken advantage of you right then and there, but i knew that when you’d wake up, you wouldn’t be able to resist the way your body wept for a man that not only saved your life, but brought you back from the dead.”

his words were hollow and empty as he preached to the choir. you were just as perverted as him. maybe even would’ve enjoyed the thought of waking up from the accident only to find you were sore between the legs.

“don’t you want me to fix you, sweet girl? rearrange your insides like a good doctor would?” he taunted, his voice laced with condescension as he leaned back from your neck, your eyes meeting again as he curled his fingers inside you, your head even fuzzier than when you had just woken up.

“use your words.”

you swallowed back your nerves before nodding slowly, “yes, doctor.”

“doctor jeon,” he corrected before removing his fingers altogether, your mind reeling from the sudden loss of stimulation.

“get up,” he ordered, standing from his chair as he began to move the tables that held his medical utensils out of the way.

you quickly obeyed, your knees wobbling as your bare feet met the cold floor tile. the wires from your heart monitor tangling as you turned to face him. he was taller than you anticipated, his white coat making him appear to tower over you even more.

he placed a finger beneath your chin, lifting your head to look up at him, his voice gentle now as he spoke, “be the good girl i know you are, hmm?”

you nodded once more, your eyes watery.

“bend over, sweetheart.”

you turned to face the chair, your body moving on its own accord as you leaned over it, your forearms getting stuck to the black leather as you forced yourself to relax.

first you heard him, the metal clanging as he undid his jeans ringing in your ears. next, the feeling of his gloved hands wrapping around your wrists, pinning them behind you. and then, his length between your legs, like a dirty stain you’ll never get out of a new shirt.

“this will only hurt for a minute, sweet girl. just a pinch,” he muttered through his own anticipation before you felt your walls stretch.

the burn was lethal, his girth was more than you’d ever felt, his length more than you’d ever imagined.

you moaned out, fighting against his grip on your wrists as you felt him bottom out inside you.

“fuck, your body is so perfect. your stitches healed beautifully, almost inhumanly fast,” he began a steady pace within you, a gloved finger tracing over a bruise on your lower back making you hiss, “such a perfect little patient, so obedient, i probably didn’t even need to use anesthesia on you.”

your skin began to heat, the leather beneath you fighting against his movements as your head began to spin deliriously.

he let out a breathless chuckle behind you and you can nearly see the dimple in his cheek at the sound of his voice, “look at how fast your little heart is beating, darling,” you craned your head carefully to the heart rate monitor next to the examination table, the line bouncing rapidly to the pace of his cock inside of you, “you’re liking this a little too much, aren’t you pup?”

you could barely gain enough energy to respond before he had his neck around your throat, tugging you up to meet his chest, “you’ll answer your doctor if you know what’s good for you.”

“y-yes,” you stuttered.

“yes what? you know what’s good for you or you’re liking this too much?”

“i-im liking this too much,” your knees were getting weaker and weaker with every thrust, your body slowly giving out on you but despite it all, you felt the familiar bubble in your lower stomach.

he released your arms, your upper body collapsing back on top of the examination table, your hands immediately reaching up to the wires on your chest and tugging them free, the heart monitor beside you humming with a flatline.

he tsked, a gloved hand tangling in your hair while another steadies itself on your waist, continuing his feverish pace, “pathetic little girl didn’t want to see how fast her heart was beating anymore? it’s okay baby, the doctor will take care of you.”

your heart paused as you felt the warmth of his bare fingers against your clit, now realizing he had somehow peeled a glove off without you noticing.

his skillful hands worked your ball of knots in circles as the hum of the flatline filled your ears.

“that could’ve been you, darling, if i hadn’t been there to save you.”

the wire within you began to pull taut, your body tensing as you met his thrusts with similar fervor, you and him both chasing the high that only the human body can bring.

“that’s right, baby,” he cooed, “let me see how perfect you feel.”

with a final pinch on your clit he pushed you over the edge, your body in metaphorical free fall as you felt an orgasm wash over you that you’d never quite experienced before, your body instantly humming with pure euphoria.

“f-fuck,” he cursed, and for the first time all night, you saw a glimpse of his humanity, a button to push that made him just as vulnerable as you.

“please fix me, doctor,” you prodded the buttons more, coaxing him over the edge, “fill me up and fix me inside, i promise i’ll be good. you won’t need to put me under this time.”

you felt his hips stutter and his balls tense behind you before a string of curse words and a hot warmth building in your womb. his cock filling you up to the brim as his hand in your hair tensed.

“f-fuck, y/n, who taught you that?”

“you did,” your tired voice responded as you heard him chuckle behind you, his cock still buried deep inside before he gently pulled out, careful as not to let any cum leak out.

you’d never felt so dirty in your life, so used, and yet somehow it was mutual.

you heard a rustle as he leaned down to eye level with your sopping cunt, his gloved hand reaching up to dip into your pussy, pulling a weak moan from your throat.

“shhh,” he cooed, “can’t waste any,” you continued to whine softly as he pushed as much cum deep into your pussy as he could, his skillful fingers working you up all over again before he removed them fully, leaving you empty and aching.

“such a good girl,” his praise shot straight to your core as he helped you back onto the examination table, your feet dangling off the edge as he pulled his pants back up and over his still hard cock.

“y-your,” you pointed to his pants, only to be quickly cut off.

“i will be for a while after that, but nothing a good procedure won’t fix.”

your eyes bulged out of your head enough for him to notice and chuckle softly, “not you, sweetheart. some other pretty little girl who needs my help.”

he turned to the table behind him, picking up a pink lollipop and unwrapping it gently before turning back to face you.

“i know you’re nervous,” he says to acknowledge the tremble in your body, “but i’ll be very gentle. even if it does hurt, be rest assured that i’ll do my best to not make it worse. are you okay?”

“yes, i’m… fine. i’m fine.”

“are you sure about that?” zayne brings down his gloved hands to hopefully appear less threatening. “you don’t have to lie to me if you’re scared.”

“i am scared, but i’m not scared that you’ll mess up or anything… just… i can’t do blood, or needles, or doctors.”

zayne raises a brow.

“no offense, this is a very, uh, essential career you’re stepping into, zayne. doctor zayne.”

he doesn’t respond verbally to your nervous blabber. instead he lets out a slow exhale and turns to the medical cart beside him to pick up a blue tourniquet. slowly, so as to not startle you, he leans forward and wraps it gently around your upper arm. he refrains from tying it just yet.

“is this alright?” he asks softly, eyes solely focusing on the band.

with a small swallow you nod. “yeah, i mean we have to get this done at some point… sorry if i’m wasting your time.”

“don’t think about it like that,” he responds, now deftly moving his fingers to tie the band around. “i’ll have to deal with a barrage of patients, many of whom will probably be just as scared as, if not more than, you are. practice; this is just practice.”

the tourniquet uncomfortably squeezes the fat of your arm and leaves the rest of it weak. zayne taps your inner elbow to encourage the thin veins from beneath to expose themselves.

you try not to watch him too closely. not for his sake, but for yours. the needle was no where near you yet; but just knowing he was playing around with your arm for the purpose of sticking a needle in you was enough for you to avert your gaze.

“hey,” he alerts your attention, “you need to breathe and relax. if your body is tense then your blood vessels will constrict, making my job harder.”

“s-sorry.”

“don’t be sorry, just take a deep breath. here.” he straightens and with a gesture, tells you to follow along with him.

his shoulders rise as he takes a long and deep breath, then fall as he lets that breath go. keeping your eyes on him, you follow along through each breath over and over again until your focus was less on your anxiety and more on him.

“there we go, you did good,” zayne murmurs with a small smile. “do you feel better?"

surprisingly, you did, but you couldn’t help but feel a little silly at what was essentially a guided meditation from him.

you nod once and offer a smile back. “yeah, actually. i do feel better. thank you, you’re good at what you do.”

he sort-of incredulously chuckles. “i would hope so, being in my second year of residency and all. but try not to undo our progress by tensing up again, okay? just keep breathing.”

he leans in once more and makes a small noise while looking at your arm. for some reason this was causing another surge of anxiety to well up.

“w-what? something wrong?” you ask, joining in on looking at your arm.

he shakes his head and glances up at you. “quite the opposite, i can see your veins much better now. it’ll be much easier to draw now. but like i said, don’t psyche yourself out, okay?” he looks back up at you and holds your gaze, looking for explicit compliance.

“okay, i’ll try really hard. no promises here though… but i’ll try.”

“that’s all i’ll need. i’m patient.”

zayne flicks at the crook of your elbow with his finger over and over again. your arm was getting numb at this point but you figured it was for the better. less pain to feel from the needle, hopefully.

“okay,” he hums, “i think i have a vein. you’re doing good so far, just keep at it.”

you nod quickly before completely twisting your head the other direction. your heart rate skyrockets at the wet swab of the alcohol on your skin. running through your head was the fear of being stabbed mixed with the fear of disappointing zayne. it wasn’t clear which one was winning.

after the swab you expected to feel a needle penetrating your skin, except, that didn’t happen. it was either that zayne was an amazing doctor that could rid you of needle pain or, the more likely scenario, there was no needle in you.

you look back cautiously and find him looking at you with an unreadable expression. well, maybe he looked a little concerned?

“zayne?” you breathe out.

he undoes the tourniquet and places it back on the medical table.

“zayne, i’m sorry, i was really trying right then. maybe you should just find another patient, i’m not doing a good job and you need these vials.”

you really didn’t like his silence. it made you feel like an embarrassment — one who, for some reason, had offered herself as a patient for his bloodwork training.

you shift back to your regular sitting position and try to follow his averting eyes. was he upset with you? you would be if the roles were reversed.

“zayne?”

he finally brings his gaze to yours and lets out a long but soft sigh. “i’m not going to let you wimp yourself out of this,” he states. “there will be many instances where you’ll have to get your blood drawn, all of which i won’t be there for to hold your hand through. so this is for your benefit, understand?”

you furrow your brows and lower your gaze in slight shame and submission. “yeah, i understand.”

“that being said,” he continues, “this is not that big of a deal. i’m not upset with you, i’m just trying to figure out how to go about this effectively. is there something different i could be doing to help calm you?”

meeting his eyes again, you give the question some thought. “i mean… i don’t know. what’re you gonna do? shake some keys in my face to distract me?”

“if it works it works.”

“i’m already humiliated, please, zayne.”

he smirks. without looking, he picks up the tourniquet again and reties it around your arm. “your vein was prominent. it was perfect to draw from right then, i was eager to finally fill a vial, but you were too scared for me to want it then. i want you to be calmer so you can attach a good memory to this.”

“what do you mean?” you ask.

“i mean i want you to remember this as a ‘i got through it better than i expected’ rather than a ‘i couldn’t wait to get it over with’. do you understand what i’m getting at here?”

he lifts your arm slightly with one hand while the other resumes the flicking onto your inner elbow. he was much more casual and fluid with his actions now, as opposed to earlier where being cautious seemed necessary.

“i understand. i honestly really appreciate how hard you’re trying here, doctor zayne,” you nervously smile. despite directly looking at his attempts to reveal your vein again, you felt a lot less nervous than earlier.

“like i said,” he hums while opening a new alcohol swab, “this is just practice. in the medical field, a patient being nervous about bloodwork or shots is most common and least concerning thing there is.”

he swabs your skin once more and looks up to you with a gentle expression, silently asking if you were okay. you nod once.

“it’s okay,” he whispers, “just close your eyes. being nervous doesn’t mean you’re not brave.”

you give him another nod, less perceptible this time as anxiety settles back into your chest. you shut your eyes and lick your lips.

“it’ll be over quick?” you ask more so to convince yourself it will.

“mhm,” he rumbles, “you have nice veins to work with. i’ve had patients whose veins were very small, very stubborn. i’d have to prick them over and over again until i was successful.”

you wince.

“but that’s not you, is it?” zayne asks by your ear. “you’re going to get through this easy, just one prick for one minute.”

you nod.

“it’s going in, will you be okay?”

you nod again.

“good, just breathe for me. you’re doing a lot better.”

you feel a sting on your arm and tense up immediately. this time, though, it was allowed, the needle was already in, constricted veins no longer a concern.

zayne clicks the first vial in and watches it slowly fill with red. then he looks at you; at your vulnerable expression and your tense body.

“i-is it going? it’s fine?”

“yeah, it’s going. the hard part is over, all you have to do it sit for a few minutes until the vials are full. do you need to hold my hand?”

“w-wh-“ you sputter, “like a child? i’m.. i’m doing fine. i’m a grown adult, i don’t need to…”

“mm, i don’t know why you get so embarrassed about these things,” he croons, “i’m not judging you. it’ll help more than you think.”

without asking you again, he takes your fisted hand from your lap and holds it in his. the warmth of his palm did more than you thought to relieve you. you find yourself squeezing it to release your built up tension.

“see? i can already tell you feel better. don’t be so stubborn.”

you croak quietly as a response.

the sting in your arm was gone, replaced by the uncomfortable sensation of the needle nestled underneath your skin.

it felt so odd, to have something underneath your skin and for you to feel it so acutely. it didn’t make sense to you how some children, the most dramatic of the bunch, were more tolerant to this than you.

time seemed to drag on. the only thing that kept track of the seconds was zayne’s breath that quietly fanned on your forehead. two seconds in, three seconds out, that’s how you counted.

the acute awareness of the needle was now rivaling the acute awareness of zayne. his hand in yours was an anchor, and soon enough, you felt yourself relax in a way you never have when getting your blood drawn.

zayne chuckles. “you’ve come a long way today, haven’t you?”

“you think?” you reply in soft but slightly strained voice.

“i can see it right here. you’ve become much calmer. you’re surprising me. i was expecting to be at this for a little while longer.”

a small shaky smile tugs on your lips. “ah, i’m just… full of surprises a-aren’t i?”

air huffs out of his nose in amusement; air you enjoyed feeling. with your eyes closed, zayne was occupying all your other senses. you could hear nothing but his steady breathing; the only thing your nose could pick up on other than the sterile room was the hot breath you periodically shared with him. your mouth had been dry since you stepped into the room, and the only sensation worth paying attention to was zayne's hand in yours.

this doctor was involving himself with your body in every way. "almost done," he mumbles, "just this last vial. your vein is very generous with me, i appreciate it." "uh, you're... welcome?" maybe it was a little strange how much pride you took in that compliment. if you could call it that. when you feel zayne's hand leave yours it was both a relief and a disappointment. he was reaching for the vial, he was going to disconnect you from the needle - you knew that, but you didn't get to see this comforting side of him often. so maybe there was a small part of you that, shockingly, wanted to continue this whole ordeal for a little while longer. zayne takes out the full vial and then clicks the syringe out of you. with pressure, he holds a small thick square gauze down to the injury then tapes it down with medical tape. "you're all done; you can open your eyes now. unless you want to keep them closed until you leave the office completely," he quips. your eyes slowly open up and adjust to the fluorescent lighting in the room. "making fun of me isn't very professional of you, doctor zayne," you retort but with no heat to your voice. "thank god that's over with, i almost passed out there." zayne picks up one of your vials and swishes it around with passive interest. "mm, but you didn't, gold star." realizing something, he looks behind him at the medical cabinets. "actually, hold on." you watch him put your vial down and make his way over to the cabinets. he opens one up, looks around for a moment, then reaches to the back for something. he pulls out a rather small basket and then walks over to you, a genuine but cheeky smile growing on his lips. "stickers? are you serious?"

the assortment of colourful and immature stickers were like an insult to you. an insult that zayne was reveling in and mentally patting himself on the back for. "we give them out to all our good patients. what? you don't think you did a good job today?" you simply stare at him in slight disbelief. he chuckles at you. he skims through the basket before pulling one out and setting the others aside. he peels the sticker and then presses it directly below your collarbones where it stood out like a sore thumb. it was a sun where in the circle of it said: I was a brave girl today! you look down at it and lick your lips in resignation. you were the butt of his jokes today, but you deserved it. it only took you what felt like several hours to calm down. "your bedside manners need improving, doctor zayne," you murmur dryly. "really? do they?" he hums. "didn't i just help you through getting your blood drawn? i bet you weren't expecting to survive that. but i'm a good doctor, so you did." you raise a brow and hold back a small laugh so as to not fuel his amusement. "say i'm a good doctor," zayne challenges, his smirk only growing. "huh?" "say i'm a good doctor," he repeats. "w-why? you know you are, why do i have to say it?" "because," he pokes the sticker on your chest, "i like hearing it. especially from my good patients. say it." you look down at his finger that prods the sun on you. then, when it falls, you look up at him, his eyes cheeky but expectant.