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lookingforsnacks · 4 days ago

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i normally cant read fics this long but I swear tobiosbbyghorl puts some sort of drug in their writing like what

IN STITCHES | PSH | PART 1

pairing: grump surgeon! sunghoon x surgeon! reader

wc: 20.8k first part 14.8k

synopsis: A grumpy, emotionally guarded surgeon and a sunshine-hearted resident collide in the high-stakes world of medicine—what begins with spilled coffee and sharp words slowly transforms into stolen glances, quiet care, and a love powerful enough to heal even the deepest wounds.

It was supposed to be a good day.

The kind where the hospital coffee machine didn’t malfunction, where Y/N’s ID card actually worked on the first tap, and where she could maybe—just maybe—make it through orientation without embarrassing herself.

And then she turned the corner too fast.

Her shoulder slammed into a firm chest, the jolt sending her coffee cup flying—directly onto the pristine white coat of a man walking toward her. It splashed in a perfect arc, dark liquid staining the fabric from his shoulder down to the navy blue scrubs underneath.

“Oh my god—!” Y/N gasped, already fumbling for tissues from her coat pocket. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you—I should’ve—”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. Just looked down at the damage, then up at her, his jaw tight and eyes sharp.

“Of course,” he said coolly, “it’s always the first-years.”

Her mouth opened, then closed. She stared up at him. Tall. Unsmiling. Ice in his gaze. His name tag read Dr. Park Sunghoon – Cardiothoracic Surgery.

Oh no.

Oh no no no no no.

“I’ll pay for the dry cleaning,” she blurted, cheeks burning.

“Don’t bother.” He pulled off the coat in one smooth motion, folding it over his arm. “Just try not to cause any surgical accidents when you inevitably panic in the OR.”

Her jaw dropped slightly. “That’s not fair—”

He walked off before she could finish.

Y/N stared after him, mortified, still clutching her now-empty coffee cup. She hadn’t even started her first day, and she’d already gotten on the bad side of the hospital’s most feared surgeon.

Of course, it had to be him.

Welcome to Seonghwa University Hospital, she thought bitterly. You’re officially doomed.

Rounds that afternoon were brutal.

She stood with three other surgical residents, nerves tingling like live wires as Dr. Park reviewed patient charts with clipped efficiency. His tone was clinical, cold, and sharp enough to slice straight through any trace of confidence.

“Dr. Y/L/N,” he said suddenly, eyes flicking toward her. “What’s the protocol for a Type B aortic dissection?”

Her mind scrambled. “Uh—CT angiography to confirm diagnosis, followed by—surgical intervention if there’s evidence of rupture or compromised perfusion—”

“Too slow.” His voice cut clean through her stammering. “If you think for that long during a real dissection, the patient’s already coding.”

Heat rushed to her face. She bit her tongue.

“Review it tonight. Come back with a better answer. Next.”

—

It didn’t stop there.

He questioned her again—this time on anticoagulation protocols—and when she got the answer right, he didn’t acknowledge it. He just moved on without so much as a nod. But when another resident answered wrong, Sunghoon launched into a five-minute correction speech.

By lunch, Y/N sat at the corner of the breakroom table, stabbing at her rice bowl and trying not to take it personally.

“He’s like that with everyone,” another resident, Yeji, said around a mouthful of kimbap. “He’s allergic to praise. Thinks kindness slows people down.”

“I don’t need kindness,” Y/N muttered. “I just need him to stop looking at me like I’m roadkill.”

“He probably respects you,” Yeji said with a grin.

Y/N looked at her like she’d grown a second head.

“No, really,” Yeji shrugged. “The more he criticizes, the more he sees potential.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “That man would criticize a puppy for blinking too slow.”

—

She made the mistake of letting herself relax during an evening case—a relatively routine pericardial window. She wasn’t even assisting, just observing, but she leaned in to see better, her gloved hand briefly brushing against the sterile field.

“Out,” Sunghoon said sharply without turning.

Her breath caught. “I didn’t—”

“You broke the field.”

“It was an accident—”

“I said out.”

The scrub nurse gently guided her back as her stomach sank through the floor. Her chest burned. Embarrassment. Shame. Frustration. All of it twisting together as she stood silently behind the glass.

When the surgery ended, he walked out without looking at her.

But the nurse leaned in and whispered, “He did the same to a fourth-year two months ago. Don’t take it to heart.”

She smiled weakly, but it still stung.

It was nearly midnight by the time she sat down in the stairwell.

Cool concrete steps. The quiet hum of a hospital trying to catch its breath between crises. She pulled her knees to her chest and let her head rest against the wall.

She wouldn’t cry.

She would not cry.

Not over a man who probably hadn’t smiled since the last Olympics.

Her pager buzzed.

Rotation confirmed – Cardiothoracic Surgery: Dr. Park Sunghoon. Start time 5:00 AM.

Y/N sighed. “I hate everything.”

—

She stayed late the next night—not because she had to, but because one of the nurses mentioned a young girl in the cardiac ICU who’d come in with a complex congenital defect. A rare case. A once-in-a-residency kind of case.

Y/N wasn’t on the attending team, but she couldn’t help herself.

The girl, maybe ten, looked fragile in the bed. Tubes and monitors surrounded her like armor. Her mother sat by her side, gently brushing the girl’s hair back from her forehead.

Y/N hesitated outside the door, then stepped in quietly.

“Ma’am?” she said softly. “Can I get you anything? Water? Tea?”

The woman looked up, red-eyed. “No… thank you. She’s just resting. They said she’s stable for now.”

“She’s lucky to have you here,” Y/N said kindly.

The woman gave her a watery smile. “Dr. Park said there’s still a chance. But the way he said it… I don’t know if he believes it.”

Y/N knelt beside the bed, brushing a thumb gently over the girl’s tiny hand. “Sometimes doctors get tired. We see so much heartbreak, we forget that hope can still matter. But your daughter’s here. She’s fighting. And you’re doing everything right.”

The woman sniffled. “Do you think she’ll make it?”

Y/N smiled softly. “I think miracles happen here every day.”

The woman didn’t reply—but she held her daughter’s hand tighter.

Y/N left the room a few minutes later, shoulders tense but heart strangely full.

And then she saw him.

Sunghoon stood against the wall, arms crossed, half-shadowed by the ICU lights. His eyes had that unreadable gleam again—not anger, not coldness. Something else.

“You talk a lot,” he said flatly.

She rolled her eyes. “Thanks.”

“You’re not even on this case.”

“I know.”

He studied her for a long moment. “Why waste time on false hope?”

She didn’t hesitate.

“Hope isn’t false,” she said quietly. “It’s survival.”

Something flickered in his gaze. Barely there, but it was real.

He didn’t say anything else. Just turned and walked away.

But this time, she saw it—just a flicker—hesitation in his steps.

And that, somehow, felt like the beginning of something she didn’t yet have a name for.

⸻

Y/N’s alarm blared at 4:15 a.m., and for the third time that week, she debated quitting medicine altogether.

Her shoulder still ached from the equipment cart that nearly crashed into her the night before—some intern had rushed around a blind corner, and she’d instinctively stepped in to protect the patient’s IV line. The cart clipped her hard, sending her stumbling back into the wall. No break, thankfully, but the bruising was deep.

Of course, Sunghoon hadn’t said a word about it. He’d looked at the scene, confirmed the patient was fine, and walked away.

Classic.

She hadn’t even had a second to ice it properly.Now, with her arm throbbing and her body protesting every step, she rushed to the operating theater.

He was already there when she arrived.

“You’re late,” he said flatly without looking up from the chart.

“It’s 4:59,” she breathed out, chest rising. “Technically, I’m early.”

His eyes flicked up. “Technicalities don’t save lives.”

She gritted her teeth, fingers twitching by her side. “Understood.”

She moved to scrub in, but lifting her arm to tie the back of her gown made her wince involuntarily. Her fingers paused. Her shoulder tensed. She bit her lip, trying not to make a sound.

And then, suddenly, he was behind her.

Not a word. Not a breath.

Just quiet, practiced fingers tying her gown strings for her.

She froze.

“Next time, ask someone for help,” he said, voice low but firm. “You’re no use to the team if you pretend you’re fine.”

Y/N turned slightly, stunned. “How did you—?”

“You’re favoring your left side. And you winced when you reached for the tray yesterday.”

He tied the final knot and stepped back. His face gave nothing away.

“Be sharp today. It’s a double bypass, and the attending will expect quick thinking.”

Just like that, he was all business again.

But her heart skipped—just once—and her shoulder didn’t hurt as much.

—

Later that day, during rounds, she fumbled her words again. Her brain was foggy with exhaustion and a dull throb beneath her collarbone.

“What’s the minimum ACT required before initiating cardiopulmonary bypass?”

Her lips parted. Her mind blanked.

Sunghoon stared.

“Dr. Y/L/N?”

“480 seconds,” she managed, finally.

He looked unimpressed. “Don’t guess in surgery. If you don’t know, say so. Guessing gets people killed.”

Her stomach dropped. She nodded quietly.

After rounds, she sat alone in the on-call room, feeling the sting of his words settle in her chest. But not even twenty minutes later, a nurse knocked on the door.

“Dr. Park asked me to bring this to you,” she said, holding out an ice pack wrapped in a soft towel.

Y/N blinked. “What? He—?”

“Said you might need it. Said you wouldn’t ask.”

The nurse left before she could say anything else.

Y/N stared at the pack for a long moment before pressing it gently to her shoulder, lips pulling into a reluctant smile.

—

The next morning, she stood by the OR board, scanning the list for her name. Her stomach clenched when she saw it.

Lead assist – Dr. Park Sunghoon.

She’d barely gotten over the last case.

But she scrubbed in anyway, tied her gown on her own this time, and walked into the OR ready for war.

He didn’t look at her.

Didn’t speak more than necessary.

But when the scalpel was passed and she moved to retract, he said quietly, “Switch to your left hand. Don’t strain your dominant arm.”

She blinked.

“You noticed?”

“I’m not blind,” he replied, voice clipped. “And I don’t want my resident passing out mid-case because she’s trying to prove something.”

Y/N swallowed a smile and shifted her grip. “Noted.”

The case went well.

She followed his movements with precision, matching his rhythm as best she could. And once, just once, he looked up and met her eyes over the surgical mask.

It was only a second. A flicker.

But her chest tightened.

He saw her.

Not just as a clumsy first-year or a liability.

He saw her.

—

It was almost midnight again.

She walked out of the OR with trembling legs and a heavy heart. Her shoulder was screaming again. She leaned against the hallway wall and took a breath.

She didn’t hear his footsteps until he was beside her.

He didn’t say anything. Just handed her a paper cup of warm barley tea from the staff lounge. The lid was crooked, as if he’d never prepared one before.

She looked up at him, stunned.

His eyes didn’t meet hers.

“You shouldn’t take painkillers on an empty stomach,” he said simply.

She took the cup with both hands, fingers brushing his for a fraction of a second.

“…Thank you.”

He started to walk away again, but she called after him softly.

“Why do you do that?”

He turned.

“Act like you don’t care,” she said. “But then… you always show up.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then, finally:

“Because caring makes people expect things. And expectations get people hurt.”

She stared at him, heart pounding.

“But if we stop caring, we stop hoping,” she said. “And without hope, what’s the point?”

Sunghoon paused.

His voice was almost a whisper this time.

“Why waste time on false hope?”

She met his gaze, steady and warm.

“Hope isn’t false,” she murmured. “It’s survival.”

Something in his eyes cracked—not broken, but softening.

He didn’t reply.

But when he walked away this time, he moved slower.

Like maybe her words had stayed with him.

⸻

The surgical board shifted again.

This time, it wasn’t an accident.

She was paired with Dr. Park Sunghoon for the third time in a week. It couldn’t be coincidence anymore.

Y/N glanced toward the nurses’ station where he stood, arms crossed, reviewing charts. He didn’t look her way—but he didn’t need to.

She could feel it.

He requested me.

—

They prepped for a long aortic valve replacement. Y/N double-checked the patient’s chart, heart hammering in her chest as she reviewed each step in her head. This time, she didn’t want to slip. Not in front of him.

As they scrubbed in, he said nothing.

But once in the OR, while waiting for anesthesia, he turned to her.

“Walk me through your plan.”

She blinked. “My plan?”

“You’re lead assist. Act like it.”

That was new.

He’d never let her speak up like this before.

She straightened. “We’re approaching through median sternotomy. I’ll retract—carefully, since the patient’s anemic—and keep the field clear for cannulation. Once perfusion is initiated, I’ll monitor pressure and—”

His gaze didn’t leave hers.

“Good,” he said.

Her heart stuttered.

Not because of the praise—but because of the way he said it.

Low. Quiet. Like it wasn’t meant to be heard by anyone else but her.

—

The procedure was long. Six hours.

At one point, she nearly lost grip of the retractor when her shoulder screamed in protest. She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood.

Sunghoon didn’t look up.

But when the attending called for a clamp change, he reached over—under the drape—and adjusted her grip, subtly easing the weight off her injured arm. “You’re overcompensating,” he murmured. “Use your body, not your wrist.”

It wasn’t softness. It was technical.

But his touch lingered a beat too long.

And her hands didn’t tremble after that.

—

A week passed, then another.

They kept getting assigned together.

Somehow, she found herself gravitating toward his pace, matching his rhythm. He never gave her easy praise. Never babied her.

But he watched.

When she caught a medication error before it reached a patient’s chart—he didn’t say thank you. Just looked at her for a second too long and passed her a sterilized pen. When a code blue erupted mid-shift and she rushed to help, he appeared beside her two minutes later, silently taking over compressions so she could breathe.

No one else noticed. But she did.

And once—after a particularly brutal shift—she found a pack of muscle relief patches in her locker. No name. No note.

Just taped carefully to the inside, with a pair of latex gloves beside them.

—

One night, she caught him eating dinner alone in the on-call room. Cold noodles, barely touched. His shoulders were slumped—an unusual sight.

“Rough day?” she asked, hesitating in the doorway.

He looked up, startled.

Then back down at his food. “Long one.”

She moved to the counter to pour herself some stale coffee.

“You know,” she said cautiously, “for someone who tells everyone else to rest, you really suck at it yourself.”

His lips twitched. Just slightly.

“You shouldn’t eavesdrop on my advice.”

“Maybe if you said something nice once in a while, I wouldn’t have to,” she shot back, raising her brows.

He looked over at her again.

Not irritated.

Amused.

“You think I’m not nice?”

She sipped her coffee. “I think you’re complicated.”

“Complicated?”

“Yeah.” She leaned on the counter. “You bark at interns and bark louder at residents. But then you hand someone tea when they’re too stubborn to admit they’re in pain. Or… request someone to assist you just so she doesn’t get stuck with scut work.”

His eyes darkened slightly. “You noticed.”

“I’m not blind either.”

A beat passed.

He set his chopsticks down and looked at her fully now.

“You’re not like the others.”

She blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You’re too kind for this place,” he said quietly. “Too… hopeful.”

The words struck a chord—somewhere between compliment and caution.

She smiled softly. “You say that like it’s a weakness.”

“I’ve seen what this job does to people.”

“So have I.” She tilted her head. “But I still think kindness doesn’t have to die in order for us to survive.”

Sunghoon didn’t respond for a moment.

Then, so low she almost didn’t hear it—

“I don’t want to watch it die in you.”

Her breath caught.

And in that silence, their eyes locked—nothing but the hum of fluorescent lights between them.

He blinked first.

And just like that, the moment passed.

But something had shifted.

She wasn’t sure what exactly—but it lingered in her chest long after she left the room.

—

They didn’t speak of it the next day.

But she caught his fingers brushing hers when he handed her a clamp. Saw his jaw tighten when an attending snapped at her during rounds.

And once, when she laughed at something a fellow said during a break—Sunghoon turned away just a little too sharply, gaze dark.

The line was still there.

But now, they were toeing it.

Every day, just a little more.

⸻

The OR was unusually quiet.

Only the steady rhythm of machines, the murmur of the circulating nurse, and the soft rustle of gloves broke the silence. They were closing up after a smooth procedure—just the two of them. No attendings, no audience.

Y/N stitched with quiet focus, her sutures clean and symmetrical. Her fingers moved confidently, almost instinctively.

Sunghoon watched for a few moments longer than necessary.

“Where’d you learn to suture like that?” he asked, voice low.

She glanced up, surprised he’d noticed. “Oranges.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“In med school. I used to practice on oranges. My roommate was furious for months.”

His mouth twitched—just barely.

Almost a smile. But not quite.

“Good technique,” he said instead, and turned back to the tray.

The compliment settled in her chest like warmth on a cold morning. She didn’t need his praise—but it still mattered.

—

The following morning, Y/N was running late to rounds when she bumped into someone outside the break room.

Dr. Seo Jaemin. Neurosurgery’s golden boy.

“Whoa, easy there,” he said, steadying her. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry—late again.”

“Here.” He handed her a protein bar. “Skipped breakfast, didn’t you?”

She blinked. “How’d you—?”

He winked. “You always skip breakfast.”

She laughed softly. “Thanks, Dr. Seo.”

“Call me Jaemin.”

From across the hallway, Sunghoon walked past without a glance.

But during rounds, he was impossible.

Every minor presentation from Y/N was scrutinized. He interrupted, questioned, forced her to repeat data she’d already gotten right. Even her notes weren’t spared. By the end of the session, she was red-faced and silent, fingers curled tight around her clipboard.

As the group dispersed, he walked ahead without waiting. “You don’t need compliments,” he muttered without turning around. “You need discipline.” The protein bar stayed in her coat pocket the entire day—untouched.

—

They didn’t speak again until three days later.

It had been a grueling shift—four back-to-back surgeries, all high-risk, high-pressure. Y/N didn’t remember the last time she drank water, much less sat down. During the lull between cases, she collapsed onto a bench outside the OR, head in her hands.

A shadow passed in front of her.

Then—“Catch.” She looked up.

A cold coffee cup hovered in front of her. Sunghoon stood there, gaze trained somewhere over her head.

She blinked. “Is this… for me?”

“Iced Americano. Half shot. No sugar,” he said, still not looking at her.

“You memorized my order?”

“No,” he replied curtly. “You mutter it every morning. It’s hard not to hear.”

And just like that, he walked away.

She stared after him, stunned.

And then smiled.

—

The next shift didn’t go as smoothly.

Midway through an elective gallbladder procedure, her body turned on her.

At first it was a wave of heat. Then a chill. Her vision swam, the room tilted, and her hands began to shake.

Sunghoon noticed before anyone else did.

“Y/N,” he murmured under his mask, “you good?”

“Fine,” she whispered, though her knees told a different story.

He didn’t press—but his next command came faster. Sharper.

“Clamp.”

Ten minutes later, she faltered. A sharp sway—and she nearly hit the floor.

He caught her elbow in a flash, his grip firm.

“Someone take over. Now.”

Without a word, he finished the procedure himself. Efficient. Controlled. Afterward, he walked her—no, practically carried her—to the on-call room. His expression unreadable.

“You don’t get to collapse on my table,” he muttered, kneeling beside her and pressing a cold pack to her flushed skin.

She managed a weak laugh. “Thought you didn’t care.”

“I don’t,” he said, voice flat. “I just don’t like replacing residents mid-surgery.”

“Right,” she mumbled, eyes slipping shut. “Of course.

But his hand lingered at her pulse longer than it should have. And when she fell asleep, he didn’t leave.

—

The next morning, she was back on her feet and heading to radiology when she overheard the nurses by the stairwell.

“…Park Sunghoon? Yeah. His fiancée was a cardiac fellow.”

“She died, right? Complication post-op?”

“Yeah. A rupture. He was in surgery when it happened.”

“He hasn’t been the same since. Doesn’t date. Doesn’t talk. Ice cold.”

Y/N kept walking. Didn’t let herself react.

But when she saw him later that evening—pacing outside the OR, tense—she didn’t flinch at the way he barked at a nurse or scolded a junior. She didn’t even flinch when he looked at her and said, “You’re on trauma call tonight. Hope you’re not planning to faint again.”

Instead, she smiled softly.

“I’m tougher than I look, Dr. Park.”

He stared at her for a beat too long.

Then turned away without another word. But that night, she found a small packet of electrolyte tablets slipped into her coat pocket. No note. No explanation.

Just like the coffee.

Just like him.

—

It started with silence.

Not the biting, clipped kind he used to wield like a weapon—but the kind that filled the space between them without pressure. The kind that settled in easily, like breath.

They were on-call together again. Two traumas back-to-back, one failed code blue, and a teenage stab wound that wouldn’t stop bleeding.

It was after that last one—after hours of blood, shouting, hands inside a chest cavity—that they sat side by side in the dim locker room. Neither spoke. She glanced at him. His scrubs were soaked. His jaw clenched.

Her hand moved without thinking—offering him the leftover chocolate from her coat pocket.

He didn’t take it. Just stared.

But didn’t leave.

“Sometimes,” she said quietly, “I imagine how different everything would be if I wasn’t in this field.”

He didn’t answer.

She tucked the chocolate back into her coat and stood to leave.

Then, softly, barely audible: “Me too.”

She turned, startled.

His eyes were fixed ahead. Still guarded. Still distant.

But something in his voice—cracked. Human.

Something that felt like the beginning of a confession.

—

A week later, they were paired on a complex cardiac procedure.

It was high-risk. High-stakes. The kind of case most attendings watched like hawks.

But Sunghoon didn’t hover.

He stood beside her, guiding, correcting—but not belittling.

And when she took the lead on a critical step, he didn’t stop her. Just murmured, “Careful,” like a reminder instead of a warning. After the successful surgery, she sat down at the nurses’ station to chart.

He dropped a granola bar beside her.

“Eat.”

She blinked at it, then up at him.

“Thanks.”

He didn’t respond.

But that night, he didn’t leave the hospital either.

She found him alone in the chapel—hands steepled, eyes blank. She didn’t go in. Just stood by the doorway for a moment and left him there. She never mentioned it the next morning. But he nodded at her in the elevator. A real nod. Like an acknowledgment.

That was new.

—

Then came the patient with the DNR.

Elderly. Peaceful. Ready.

The family wasn’t.

Y/N was the one who held the daughter’s hand while Sunghoon explained—clinical, detached—the reality of palliative care.

After the family left, she turned to him.

“Don’t you ever get tired of pretending none of this affects you?”

He met her gaze. Calm. Cold.

“Feelings get in the way of logic.”

“That’s not true,” she said. “You can care and still be a good doctor.”

He didn’t answer.

But later that day, she found him sitting beside the patient’s bed in silence, hands folded, just… keeping her company.

She didn’t say anything.

Just watched from the doorway.

She saw him gently adjust the blanket. Saw him whisper something under his breath before standing to leave.

—

A few days after that, she found herself alone in the stairwell, trying to catch her breath after a long call night. Her hands were shaking—adrenaline still high after a failed intubation.

The door creaked.

He walked in.

Paused when he saw her.

“You okay?”

She nodded, swallowing hard.

Then, surprising even herself: “You were right. About feelings. They do get in the way.”

Sunghoon stepped closer. Not too close.

“They also keep you human,” he murmured.

She looked up at him.

For the first time, he didn’t look untouchable. He looked tired. Worn.

Real.

“Did it happen here?” she asked quietly. “Your fiancée?”

His eyes froze.

And for a moment she thought he might snap.

But instead, he exhaled.

“ICU,” he said. “Complication post-op. We were supposed to have dinner after she recovered.”

She didn’t speak.

He didn’t need her to.

His next words came like splinters.

“I told her she was fine. That the surgery went perfectly. I went back to the OR… and she coded alone.”

The silence between them shifted.

Heavy. Sacred.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He nodded once, eyes shining—but he didn’t cry.

He never cried.

Instead, he looked at her—really looked—and said, “You remind me of her.”

Her breath caught.

“Not because you look like her. You don’t,” he added quickly. “But you… you care the same way.”

She opened her mouth, but he turned, reaching for the stairwell door.

Before he pushed it open, he paused.

“Be careful with that kind of heart,” he said softly. “It gets people hurt.”

And then he was gone.

⸻

She didn’t bring it up again.

Not the chapel.

Not the stairwell.

Not his fiancée.

The next day, she greeted him like nothing had happened. Gave a short nod during rounds, answered his rapid-fire questions like always, kept her tone level, calm.

Sunghoon never mentioned it either. But he noticed. Noticed the way she no longer challenged him on every clinical judgment. Not because she was afraid—no, Y/N didn’t scare easily—but because she was beginning to understand him.

The difference between wall and armor. Distance and protection.

She didn’t force closeness. She let silence speak. And that, more than anything, softened the tension between them.

⸻

They began to fall into rhythm.

A subtle, unspoken routine formed over the next few weeks.

If he came in early, there’d be a fresh cup of his exact coffee order on the counter—never handed to him directly, just waiting by the nurse’s station.

If she looked pale or tired, he’d ask her to triple-check the supply room—code for “take a breath, hide for five minutes, I’ll cover.”

They started reviewing cases together during night shifts—him pacing, her curled on a chair, tossing back ideas until they cracked the diagnosis like a puzzle.

Still professional. Still distant. But different now.

Their walls were shifting. Slowly. Quietly.

⸻

The night everything changed came unexpectedly.

The ER called in a critical: a child—six years old—brought in from a construction site accident. Crush injury. Collapsed lung. Internal bleeding.

The kind of trauma that pulled every doctor into overdrive.

Sunghoon and Y/N were first to respond.

Blood pooled around the tiny body. Alarms screamed. A nurse shouted vitals—BP dropping fast.

Sunghoon issued orders fast and sharp, steady in chaos. Y/N worked alongside him without hesitation, fingers slick with blood as she held pressure against the wound.

“He’s crashing—”

“Move!” Sunghoon barked, grabbing a scalpel.

Y/N held the child’s head steady as Sunghoon performed a rapid thoracotomy, opening the chest wall to decompress.

“You’re cutting too shallow,” she said, voice calm, measured.

He glanced at her—just a second—but enough to correct.

“Retractor.”

“Here.”

They worked as one. Focused. In sync.

And when the monitor finally beeped steady again—when the bleeding slowed, when the child breathed—Y/N leaned back, breathless.

Sunghoon looked at her.

Not just looked. Saw her.

His eyes softened. And for the first time—not a smirk, not an almost—but a real, genuine smile broke across his face.

Small. But there.

“You did good,” he said softly.

She blinked, stunned. “Did you just… smile at me?”

He stood. “Don’t get used to it.”

But as he turned, she swore—swore—his ears were red.

—

The shift ended hours later. The adrenaline faded. Exhaustion hit like a wave.

She found him outside the hospital, leaning against the railing under the early morning sky, tie loose, hands in his pockets.

She joined him quietly, handing him a bottle of water. No words needed.

They stood side by side in silence.

Then, without warning, his shoulder brushed hers.

Barely. Softly.

But he didn’t pull away.

Neither did she.

And when her hand lingered by his on the cold metal railing, he didn’t move.

Just let it rest there. Close enough to feel the warmth.

—

From that day forward, something shifted between them.

She caught him watching her sometimes. Not like before—not critical or guarded. Just watching. Quietly.

And one night, when she fell asleep during a case review in the break room, she woke up to a blanket draped over her shoulders. A chair pulled next to hers. He sat there, arms crossed, pretending to be reading.

“Thanks,” she whispered.

“You snore,” he muttered.

She rolled her eyes, smiling into the blanket. “I do not.”

But he was smirking now.

And this time, she didn’t look away.

⸻

The rain came down in sheets.

She stood beneath the flickering streetlight, soaked through, arms wrapped around herself as her phone died for the second time that night. The last bus was thirty minutes late. The emergency shift had been brutal—three codes, one loss—and she hadn’t eaten since noon.

When the car pulled up, she didn’t recognize it right away. Not until the window rolled down and a familiar voice snapped, “Get in. Before you get pneumonia and ruin my schedule.”

She blinked. “You drive?”

“Clearly.”

“Since when do you give rides?”

“Since you’re too stubborn to call a cab.”

She got in without arguing. The heater was already on, blasting warm air into her frozen fingers.

They drove in silence for a minute before he spoke again, eyes on the road.

“You should’ve paged someone. You looked like you were going to pass out in the OR.”

“I was fine.”

“You were swaying.”

She risked a glance at him.

His jaw was tight. But his hand—resting on the gearshift—was relaxed. Open. Like he’d just unclenched it after holding something too long.

“Thanks for coming,” she said softly.

He didn’t look at her.

But his hand moved. Turned the heat up two more notches.

—

Three days later, the hospital lost power.

Backup generators kicked in for the surgical floors, but not the on-call rooms.

They found themselves stuck in the same one. Only one cot. One blanket. The temperature already dropping.

“Take the bed,” she offered.

“You’re exhausted.”

“You’re worse.”

A beat passed.

Then, without another word, she laid down on the narrow cot and patted the space beside her.

He hesitated.

Then joined her.

Back to back. Barely touching.

At first.

She fell asleep fast—her breath slowing, fingers curling near his side.

He didn’t sleep.

Just turned slightly, watching her.

She mumbled something. A dream. His name, soft like a memory. And then: “Don’t go.”

He froze.

Didn’t move for a long time.

When she woke up hours later, his jacket was draped over her and his arm was resting—lightly, protectively—beside her head. Her cheek was inches from his chest, where his heartbeat kept steady time.

He was awake.

But he didn’t pull back.

Just met her gaze and murmured, “You talk in your sleep.”

She flushed.

“Did I say anything embarrassing?”

He looked away, but his voice was almost gentle.

“No.”

Just true.

—

The next day, everything cracked.

A teenage patient coded in surgery. Sunghoon had been leading. All protocol followed. All decisions correct. But the bleeding was too fast. The heart gave out. He stormed out before the family could be told. Before the paperwork could be started. She found him in the supply room, sitting on the floor, scrubs bloodstained, hands shaking in his lap.

She didn’t speak.

Just sank down beside him, legs crossed, fingers gently brushing his. When he didn’t pull away, she took his hand fully in hers.His voice broke when he finally spoke.

“I did everything right.”

“I know.”

“It wasn’t enough.”

She didn’t argue. Just let him lean into the silence, her palm against the back of his hand. His head dropped forward. And for the first time, he let someone see him fall apart.

—

Two nights later, the fight came.

It was stupid, at first—a disagreement over procedure order, a miscommunication during rounds. But the tension had been building for days.

“I don’t understand you,” she snapped, pulling off her gloves after surgery. “You act like caring is a weakness. Like the minute someone gets too close, you’ll break.” He slammed the clipboard down.

“Because I know what it costs!”

The room went still.

His chest heaved. Her eyes widened.

His voice was quieter when he continued.

“Caring doesn’t save lives. Skill does. Discipline. Control.”

“But it’s not enough,” she said, voice shaking. “You said it yourself. Sometimes it’s not enough. So why push everyone away? Why be alone through all of it?” He looked at her then. Not angry. Just tired. “Because if I let myself care again, I won’t survive the next loss.”

Her breath hitched.

She stepped closer. Slowly.

“You’re not alone.”

He didn’t move. She raised a hand—barely touched his arm.

“You don’t have to do this alone anymore.”

He didn’t answer. But his eyes closed. Just for a second.

And then, he exhaled.

A sound like surrender.

⸻

The hospital buzzed quietly in the background—hallway chatter, the click of nurses’ shoes, the low beeping of monitors. She caught sight of him reviewing charts near the nurses’ station and lingered. She hadn’t said it properly—not the way she wanted to. So she walked toward him, steadying her breath.

“Dr. Park.”

He looked up. Cool. Composed. Always.

She lowered her voice. “Can we talk?”

He gave a short nod and stepped aside into the vacant resident lounge. She followed, hands in her coat pockets, heart thudding louder than it had any right to. “I just wanted to say… I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I shouldn’t have challenged you like that. Not without knowing what you’ve been through. I crossed a line.”

He didn’t respond right away. He watched her for a beat longer than she was comfortable with—until he finally sighed and leaned back against the counter, eyes heavy.

“No,” he said. “You didn’t.”

She blinked.

He looked past her, almost through her. “It was a standard lap appy. Nothing out of the ordinary. I was scheduled for a major case the next morning, so I left her in post-op.” There was a hollowness to his voice, like the memory had worn down over time, but the edges still cut.

“She said she felt off. Lightheaded. But her vitals were fine. I figured it was the anesthesia. Post-op nausea, maybe. I told the nurse to page me if anything changed.” He swallowed hard.

“I didn’t stay. I didn’t listen.” Her chest tightened.

“There was a slow internal bleed. A small vessel rupture. Missed on imaging. She coded twenty minutes later.” His voice cracked. Just barely.

“They couldn’t bring her back.”

She felt like she couldn’t breathe. “Sunghoon…”

“I checked the scans again and again. I should’ve caught it. I should’ve been there.” He didn’t cry—but she saw the guilt, raw and thick behind his eyes.

“I never got to say goodbye. And I promised myself I’d never get distracted again. No attachments. No soft spots. Just skill.”

He finally looked at her.

“But then you showed up. With your jokes. And your oranges. And your endless goddamn optimism. You make it hard to remember why I built that wall in the first place.”

Her eyes burned.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again. “For everything you lost. For what it did to you.”

For a second, he just looked at her—like maybe he saw her differently now. Maybe the light wasn’t so blinding. “Thank you,” he said. Simple. Honest.

And she knew what it cost him to say it.

—

The shift wore on, but something between them had shifted.

It showed in the way he handed her a suture kit without her asking. In how he quietly corrected her charting error but didn’t make a scene. In how they stood closer than usual while consulting a post-op patient. That same patient, an older woman with a mischievous smile, squinted between them.

“You two married?” she asked, a little too loud.

They both stiffened. “No,” Sunghoon said flatly. Too flat.

But she smiled, flustered. “Definitely not.”

The woman hummed. “Could’ve fooled me. You fight like one of those couples on medical TV shows.” Sunghoon cleared his throat. “Focus on your recovery, Ms. Kang.” As they left the room, she bit back a grin. “You know she’s not wrong. He rolled his eyes. “You’ve been watching too many dramas.”

“I bet you’d be the arrogant lead.”

“I am the arrogant lead.”

She laughed. And for the first time in days, he smiled.

Really smiled.

And it was quick. Barely there. But she caught it. She always would.

⸻

It was nearly midnight when the trauma call came in.Pediatric emergency. Eight-year-old girl. Car accident. Blunt abdominal trauma. Sunghoon and Y/N exchanged a glance the second the page went out. Both already moving before words were necessary. She pulled her gloves on with trembling hands as they waited by the trauma bay doors. Sunghoon stood beside her, steady and calm—but his eyes flicked to her just once, landing on the set of her jaw.

“You okay?”

She nodded quickly. “Yeah. Just… kids always get me.” His voice was low. “Same.”

The gurney rolled in, chaos surrounding them—nurses shouting vitals, blood pooling beneath the child’s shirt, a terrified mother in tears nearby. The girl’s lips were pale, her breathing shallow “Possible spleen rupture,” one nurse shouted. “BP dropping fast.”

Sunghoon’s voice cut through the noise. “OR now.”

They rushed together. He barked out commands, she assisted without hesitation—already anticipating his steps, handing instruments, suctioning blood. Her hands didn��t shake. Not once. She didn’t flinch when things got messier. She held pressure where needed, held eye contact when he needed confirmation.

They saved her.

It took everything. But they did it.

⸻

Afterward, silence.

The girl was stable. Post-op team had taken over. Y/N leaned against the scrub sink, gloves off, surgical gown untied and hanging from her shoulders. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Sunghoon stood beside her, washing his hands slowly. His sleeves were soaked, hair mussed, voice hoarse when he finally said, “You were good in there.”

She turned her head. “You too.”

He glanced over. “I always am.”

She gave a soft laugh. “And there’s the arrogant lead again.”

He smirked—just faintly. Then his expression softened. “But tonight… I couldn’t have done it without you.” Her breath caught. The silence between them shifted—heavier now, but not with anger or grief. With something warmer. Closer. Unspoken.

“I—” she started, but didn’t know where she was going with it.

He stepped closer. Not too close. Just enough that her back straightened, and she could feel the static rising between them like the charged hum before lightning strikes. “You really don’t give up on people, do you?” he said quietly.

She shook her head. “No. Not even you.”

A beat passed.

Sunghoon reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face—slow, like he wasn’t sure if he had the right, but did it anyway.Her eyes searched his. “You can care, Sunghoon. And still be brilliant.”

He didn’t answer.

Just leaned in.

Not all the way.

Close enough that she could feel his breath. Close enough that if either of them moved even an inch—

A nurse barged in. “Dr. Park! Radiology needs—oh.”

They both froze.

The nurse blinked, then cleared her throat. “Sorry. Just—whenever you’re ready.” Sunghoon took a slow step back, jaw tightening. But his eyes never left hers. Not even for a second. When the nurse was gone, he said nothing.

Neither did she.

They just stood there in the silence. Both wondering what would’ve happened if no one had walked in.

—

After the almost-kiss, everything felt different—but Y/N wasn’t sure if she liked it. Her mind raced the entire drive home. Why had her heart fluttered? Why had his touch felt like it meant something when they’d spent so much time fighting, pushing each other away?

She stared at the ceiling for hours, the memory of his gaze lingering. She replayed it over and over in her mind, wondering if she had imagined the tension—or if there was something real there. Something more than just the exhaustion and the adrenaline of the surgery.

The next day, she tried to push it out of her head, but it lingered, creeping into every interaction they had. Sunghoon was still Sunghoon—cool, collected, and distant. But there were little things. Moments that made her heart trip over itself.

—

It started with him offering to drive her home after a late shift.It wasn’t anything grand. Just a simple, “I’m going that way. Get in.”

She almost said no—except she didn’t want to walk in the dark by herself. And there was something undeniably reassuring about him offering without asking for anything in return.

“Thanks,” she said, quietly getting into the car. The hum of the engine filled the space between them as he drove, the headlights cutting through the streets.

The drive was short, but still, it felt like time had slowed. He didn’t speak much, just focusing on the road. But every now and then, his eyes flicked to her—just for a split second—like he was checking to make sure she was okay. When they reached her apartment, she was about to open the door when he handed her a bag from the passenger seat.

“Here. Snacks,” he muttered, a little awkwardly. “You haven’t eaten dinner yet.”

She blinked, surprised. “I—thanks. I didn’t—”

He just nodded, turning the key in the ignition as if it were nothing. “Get some sleep,” he said before she could close the door. “You look like you could use it.” She nodded, feeling a rush of warmth in her chest. And just like that, he was gone. But it didn’t feel like the same cold, indifferent Sunghoon. There was a softness there now—quiet but there, nestled beneath the layers of his usual tough exterior.

—

Rumors started to spread a few days later. At first, they were innocuous—lighthearted teasing from the other doctors and nurses, all focused on the new dynamic between her and Sunghoon.

“Did you notice how he handed you the snacks? Just like a couple.”

“You’re telling me he actually offered to drive you home? Dr. Park? That’s—wow.”

But then, as these things often go, the rumors fizzled out just as quickly as they started. The teasing slowly died, conversations returned to the usual medical chatter, and life resumed as normal. They’d even been assigned to different surgeries for a while, their paths crossing less and less. Still, the air between them was different. It wasn’t as charged as it had been that night, but it wasn’t as distant, either. There was an undercurrent to everything they did—little glances, half-smiles, and more moments where their eyes lingered longer than they should.

—

The change wasn’t just in the rumors. It was in how he kept appearing at unexpected moments.

Another long shift came, and this time, it was his turn to bring in coffee. It wasn’t even a special occasion, just a Tuesday afternoon. And yet, when he set the cup in front of her without saying a word, she felt that familiar flutter again.

“You didn’t have to,” she said, looking up at him in surprise.

“I know.” He shrugged, standing there like it was the most natural thing in the world. “You were up all night with that trauma patient. You look like you need it.” She took a slow sip, eyes studying him. He looked so calm on the surface, but she could feel the tension just beneath it. Something had shifted in him, and she wasn’t sure if she was imagining it or if he was letting his guard down—just a little.

“I appreciate it,” she said, her voice softer than she intended. And he actually smiled at her then—a small, genuine thing that took her by surprise “Don’t mention it,” he said, turning to leave. But before he stepped away, he looked at her over his shoulder. “I’ll check on you later. Make sure you’re not about to fall asleep standing up.”

She couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face.After all the walls he’d put up, the small gestures felt like a breakthrough. A crack in his armor. As the days went on, those small gestures kept coming—more rides, more snacks, more lingering moments of silence that said more than words ever could. He never pushed for more. Never made a big deal out of it.

But she noticed.

And for the first time, she realized that she wasn’t the only one starting to care.

⸻

It started with her laughter.

A quiet evening in the resident lounge. Most of the staff had gone home. Y/N was curled up on the beat-up couch with a granola bar and a chart in her lap, lips pressed together in deep concentration—until something on the page made her snort softly. She didn’t even realize he was there. Sunghoon watched from the doorway, arms crossed, leaning against the frame like he hadn’t just frozen when he heard the sound.

“You always read discharge notes like they’re comedy scripts?” he asked, stepping in.

She looked up, startled, but relaxed when she saw him. “Sorry. This kid just wrote ‘Doctor Park is scary but he saved my guts, so I guess he’s alright.’” She grinned, eyes flickering toward him. “You’re earning a fanbase.” He rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t stop the small twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Terrifying and efficient. That’s my brand.”

She smiled—bright, easy. And he didn’t look away.

It was quiet after that. Not uncomfortable. Just…quiet.She scooted over slightly, patting the empty spot beside her without thinking. “You can sit, you know. I won’t bite.”

He hesitated—but only for a second.

Then he sat.

Too close.

Or maybe just close enough.

They didn’t speak for a while. Her shoulder brushed his when she reached for her drink. His knee accidentally bumped hers. He didn’t apologize. Neither did she. The tension wasn’t sharp anymore. It was soft, slow, warm—like settling into something unspoken.

“You don’t stay late unless you’re avoiding something,” she said quietly, still flipping through her notes. He didn’t answer right away. Just watched her fingers trace the lines of ink on the page. “And you don’t bring snacks to people unless you like them,” he replied.

She paused. Looked at him. “So you do like me?”

He held her gaze for a beat too long.

“I never said I didn’t.”

That made her breath catch—just a little. Enough that she had to look away.

“I’m not used to this,” she admitted, the words coming out softer than she meant. “The in-between. The almosts.” He turned slightly toward her. “Then let’s stop pretending it’s an almost.”

The air shifted.

Again.

And this time, it didn’t feel like something to run from.

His hand found hers, resting between them on the couch. He didn’t grab it. Didn’t squeeze.

Just let it sit there, his fingers brushing hers—tentative but real. She looked down at their hands.

Then up at him.

“You’re impossible,” she whispered, smiling.

“And yet here you are,” he said. And he was smiling, too—more with his eyes than anything else.

They didn’t kiss.

Not yet.

But when she leaned her head gently against his shoulder, and he didn’t move away—instead letting out a quiet breath like he’d been waiting for this—they both knew something had changed.

Not a crack in the wall.

A door.

Opening.

Just enough.

⸻

Y/N didn’t expect to see anyone from the hospital on her day off. She had planned for coffee, maybe a walk around the park, and a moment to breathe without pagers screaming in her ear.

So when she saw him—Park Sunghoon, dressed down in a hoodie and joggers, standing outside a boutique pet store with a pristine white poodle perched in his arms—she froze.

Her first thought: He’s kind of hot when he’s not telling me I’m doing things wrong.

Her second: Is that a dog?

“Dr. Park?” she called, half in disbelief, half in amusement. Sunghoon turned, clearly not expecting to see her either. His expression didn’t soften right away, but his posture relaxed, and the corner of his mouth twitched. The poodle—fluffy, snow-white, with a little pink bow on her collar—blinked curiously at Y/N.

“Y/N,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“Enjoying my day off. Clearly not as productively as you,” she teased, nodding to the dog. “This yours?” He adjusted the dog in his arms, like he didn’t quite know what to do with her fluff. “Gaeul. Technically my sister’s. I’m just filling in while she’s out of town. Temporarily.”

“Sure,” she said, eyes twinkling. “You look natural with her.”

“I’m being judged by a resident and a poodle,” he muttered, but his lips tugged into something suspiciously like a smile. Before he could say more, Gaeul wiggled excitedly in his arms, clearly interested in Y/N. Sunghoon hesitated—then extended the leash. “You want to walk with us?”

It wasn’t phrased like a date. Not even close. But it felt like one.

—

The walk wasn’t long, but it was peaceful—quiet jokes, soft teasing, and a few moments of silence that didn’t feel awkward at all. She kept glancing at him when he wasn’t looking, surprised by how easy it felt. How different he was out here, in the sun, not shrouded in harsh fluorescent light or tense OR pressure.

He caught her looking once.

She quickly looked away. “I just can’t believe you own chew toys.” “They’re not mine.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, not buying it. “I bet you even talk to her in baby voice when no one’s around.” He didn’t respond.

Which meant he absolutely did.

—

Later, they ended up near a small bistro she liked, tucked between buildings, the kind of place with mismatched chairs and fairy lights strung across the outdoor patio. He glanced at her as they paused in front of it.

“You eaten yet?”

“No.”

“You want to?”

She blinked. “With you?”

“Unless you’ve got another emergency poodle date lined up.” She laughed—and it felt good, falling out of her chest that easily. “Okay. Let’s eat.”

—

Dinner was simple. Pasta, wine, shared appetizers. Gaeul napped peacefully in the seat beside Sunghoon, occasionally pawing at his hand when she wanted a scrap of food. Y/N watched him sneak her a piece of chicken, and something in her heart melted. She didn’t even realize how long they’d been sitting there until the sun dipped lower, coloring the sky peach and gold. The conversation had wandered—from their most annoying patients to childhood stories to travel dreams—and somehow, without meaning to, their knees were touching under the table.

“You’re different outside the hospital,” she murmured.

He raised a brow. “Better or worse?”

“Still grumpy,” she said. “But less… guarded.”

He didn’t answer right away. Just watched her for a moment, then leaned back.

“This was nice,” he said quietly. “You. Here.”

Her heart did a little somersault.

“So was this, like… a date?” she asked, teasing—but there was a hopeful edge under her voice she couldn’t hide. He didn’t tease back.

Instead, he tilted his head, watching her with eyes a little too serious. “I don’t know,” he said. “Do you want it to be?” Her smile was slow. “Yeah. I think I do.”

Sunghoon nodded once, then leaned forward, just enough for his voice to drop slightly. “Then let’s call it one.” And just like that—unofficial, simple, but undeniably something—the shift between them became real.

No masks. No operating room tension. Just him, her, and the warm beginning of more.

⸻

The morning air in the hospital was brisk, the corridors buzzing with early rounds and shuffling residents. But Y/N walked in lighter than usual, barely noticing the chill. She wasn’t just glowing—she was radiating. Like some invisible switch had been flipped, and everything suddenly felt warmer, brighter, closer.

Of course, someone noticed.

“You’re smiling,” Heeseung, one of the cardio fellows, said as they scrubbed in side by side. “That’s suspicious. Who let you have fun?” Y/N rolled her eyes, hiding the faint color creeping up her neck. “I’m just in a good mood.

“Right,” Heeseung said with a smirk. “Totally unrelated to you being seen near a very broody attending last night with a dog that looked like a cloud.”

She nearly dropped her surgical cap.

“You saw that?”

“I was walking back from the clinic. Couldn’t miss it. You two looked…” He cocked his head, playful. “Uncharacteristically cozy.”Y/N narrowed her eyes. “You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” he asked, grinning.

Before she could reply, the OR doors pushed open—cue the very subject of their conversation.

Park Sunghoon entered with a clipboard in hand, his usual calm intensity intact. Except… something about him was off. He didn’t bark at anyone. He didn’t rush. And when he passed by her at the sink, his fingers grazed hers—barely—but deliberately. A blink-and-you-miss-it kind of touch.

And then—he smirked.

Tiny. Barely there. But real.

Her brain short-circuited.

She glanced sideways at Heeseung, who now looked like he was watching a drama unfold in real-time. “I take it back,” he whispered. “This is better than TV.”

“Shut up,” she muttered.

But she couldn’t wipe the smile off her face.

—

During the procedure, it was business as usual—Sunghoon giving instructions, Y/N assisting like always, but the atmosphere between them was subtly different. When she handed him instruments, his fingers lingered for just a breath longer. When she asked for clarification, he actually gave her a soft nod instead of an irritated sigh. And when the surgery wrapped up and she peeled off her gloves, she felt his eyes follow her for a second longer than necessary. Outside the OR, she pressed her back to the wall, trying to cool off the butterflies flapping against her ribs.

Heeseung passed by, clapping her lightly on the shoulder. “So. Coffee? Or should I just start planning your engagement party?” She shoved him down the hall. Behind her, Sunghoon’s voice rang out calmly. “Dr. Lee. If you’re done playing matchmaker, rounds start in ten.”

Heeseung straightened immediately. “Yes, sir.”

But as he passed, Sunghoon flicked his eyes toward Y/N—still faintly amused, still very much aware—and added with an almost imperceptible twitch of his lips:

“Glad someone’s in a good mood this morning.”

Y/N didn’t stop smiling for the rest of her shift.

⸻

Her shift dragged longer than expected, the kind of slow where time felt thick, and her body begged for rest. But even through the fatigue, her mind kept drifting—back to last night, to his quiet smirk this morning, to the way his fingers brushed hers in passing like it meant nothing and everything all at once. Y/N found him late that evening reviewing scans in the diagnostics lounge. Most of the hospital had quieted by then. The vending machine buzzed faintly behind her, and the soft hum of a nearby ECG monitor pulsed in rhythm with her nerves.

She knocked lightly on the doorframe.

He looked up. “You’re still here?”

“Barely,” she said, stepping in. “I was going to grab dinner before I collapse. Thought I’d ask if you wanted to join. Since you—” she paused, gathering her courage, “—seemed like you didn’t hate my company last night.” Sunghoon’s brows lifted, surprised—but not unpleasantly.

“You’re asking me out?” he said carefully, not mocking, but definitely amused.

“Technically, I’m asking if you want udon and maybe a beer at that tiny hole-in-the-wall spot by the train station,” she said, arms crossed, meeting his gaze with quiet defiance. “But if you need to call it a date—” He stood slowly, slipping the folder under his arm, that same unreadable expression settling over his features.

“I’ll call it dinner,” he said simply. “Unless you decide otherwise.” Her heart thudded, and she followed him out with a soft smile.

—

The place was dim and warm, all steam and sizzling broth and cheap plastic stools. It didn’t take much for conversation to flow again—stories about ridiculous patients, gossip they’d both overheard, moments they’d survived in chaotic silence. At one point, she laughed so hard she accidentally choked on a sip of beer, and he leaned forward with concern—hands braced on the table, eyes focused.

“You okay?”

She coughed once, nodding, waving a hand. “I’m fine.”

“You should chew before you drink,” he murmured, sliding a napkin toward her. “It’s basic survival.”

She grinned as she wiped her mouth. “You’re bossy even off-duty.” He tilted his head, eyes lingering a second too long. “You wouldn’t like me if I weren’t.”

“I think I already do,” she blurted—then froze.

His gaze sharpened, but instead of teasing her, he said—softly, without irony:

“I know.”

Her throat tightened, caught between panic and warmth.

The rest of dinner passed in that quiet, humming space—closer now. Like they were both slowly inching toward something they couldn’t define yet, but neither wanted to stop. Outside, under the glow of streetlights, he didn’t offer to drive her home.

He just walked beside her, hands in his coat pockets, shoulder brushing hers every few steps. When they reached the corner where their paths split, she turned to say goodbye—but Sunghoon spoke first.

“I don’t usually do this,” he said. “Whatever… this is.” She didn’t respond right away. Just stepped closer.

“Then don’t think too hard about it tonight,” she whispered. “Just walk me home.” So he did.

⸻

The next morning, Y/N showed up early to rounds with a coffee in each hand—one hers, the other a quiet gamble. She didn’t expect much. Maybe a nod. Maybe nothing. But when she passed Sunghoon in the hallway outside the nurse’s station, he took the cup without a word. Their fingers brushed. His gaze dipped to the coffee sleeve, then to her. “Still trying to bribe your way into my good graces?” he murmured, a corner of his mouth twitching.

She rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. “Bribes are more effective than flattery with you. That much I’ve learned.” A beat passed. His voice was lower when he added, “You’re not wrong.”

—

They were checking in on a sweet older patient in recovery—a woman who’d had a complicated mitral valve repair that Sunghoon had handled with his usual precision. Y/N stood beside him as he reviewed the charts, jotting quick notes. The woman, Mrs. Choi, smiled up at them from her bed with knowing eyes and years of unspoken wisdom crinkled at the corners.

“Doctor Park,” she said suddenly, her voice soft but clear. “You’re different when she’s around. Sunghoon paused mid-note, not looking up. “I’m always professional.”

She waved a frail hand. “Professional, yes. But warmer. Not so much like a machine.” Y/N choked back a laugh, quickly glancing at Sunghoon—who, for the first time in weeks, looked genuinely flustered. “Don’t worry,” Mrs. Choi added kindly. “It’s a compliment. She brings the color out of you. You both make a good pair. In surgery and in life.” Sunghoon didn’t respond right away, flipping a page in her chart with more force than necessary. But then, without looking at Y/N, he said under his breath, “Tell me when your fan club starts mailing out T-shirts.”

Y/N smiled. “Only if you promise to wear one.”

—

Later that afternoon, they passed in the hallway again, mid-shift. No words. But he slowed down just long enough to let his fingers graze hers—barely a touch, almost an accident.

Except it wasn’t.

She turned, heart stuttering, only to find him already walking away. But his hand lifted briefly in a lazy half-wave—uncharacteristically casual.

She couldn’t stop the grin that followed.

⸻

It was nearly 3AM by the time they finally peeled off their scrubs, the adrenaline of the six-hour operation slowly bleeding out into exhaustion. The OR had been tense—delicate vascular repair on a child, high-risk and high-stakes. They’d barely spoken during the procedure, every move precise, instinctive. In sync. Now, the silence in the break room felt heavier, softer somehow.

Y/N sat on the worn-out cot first, back against the wall, her eyelids already drooping as she clutched a water bottle with trembling fingers. Sunghoon leaned against the doorframe, watching her for a long beat. “You should sleep,” he said quietly.

She looked up, too tired to smile. “You too. You look like hell.”

He scoffed lightly, but there was no bite to it. “Flattery again?”

“Always.”

He finally moved, shrugging off his coat and tossing it over the back of the chair. Then he hesitated—just for a second—before sitting beside her on the cot. There wasn’t much space. Their shoulders brushed. He didn’t pull away.

Neither did she.

The room was dim, the air slightly too warm. Her head dropped onto his shoulder without warning, and when she realized it, she jolted back with a quiet gasp.

“Sorry—”

He caught her wrist gently before she could move further. “It’s fine,” he said, softer than she’d ever heard him. So she settled back in, slower this time.

She felt his breath steady beside her. His body warm and solid. After a while, he shifted just enough to ease her down gently onto the cot, stretching out beside her. She blinked at him, eyes wide.

“You’re going to sleep here too?”

“You think I’ll leave you unsupervised after today?” he murmured. “You’ll probably try to round on three patients in your dreams.”

She chuckled, eyes fluttering shut.

Then came the quiet surprise—his arm sliding around her waist, anchoring her close. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t bold.

It was careful. Considerate. Quiet.

Like everything he did with her lately.

She melted into it, letting her hand rest lightly against his chest. His heartbeat thudded against her palm—steady, controlled, but undeniably there.

Minutes passed. Maybe hours. Neither of them moved. Just before she drifted off, she whispered, “You’re not as cold as you pretend to be.” He didn’t respond. But the grip of his arm around her tightened just a little.

Enough to say, I know.

⸻

When Y/N blinked awake, the room was filled with that hazy, gray pre-dawn light seeping through the slats of the blinds. Her body ached with the kind of deep, all-consuming fatigue only surgeons knew—but it wasn’t discomfort that pulled her out of sleep.

It was warmth.

Steady, solid warmth wrapped around her like a cocoon. A strong arm still draped over her waist, and the quiet rhythm of someone breathing close—too close to be anyone but him. Her head was resting on his chest. Her fingers were curled loosely into the soft fabric of his shirt. And Sunghoon… Sunghoon hadn’t moved. She froze for a second, trying to process how close they still were, how completely tangled. She could hear his heartbeat. Feel it. She could feel everything. Slowly, carefully, she lifted her head just enough to see his face. Eyes closed. Jaw relaxed. Breathing even. Asleep. Or pretending to be.

She let herself look—really look—for just a second. This version of him, stripped of sharp lines and distance, was softer. Younger. And heartbreakingly human. A flutter moved through her chest. Unwelcome and warm.

She shifted slightly, trying to untangle herself without waking him—but as soon as she moved, his hand flexed on her waist. Not tight. Just deliberate. And then she heard his voice. Low. Raspy with sleep.

“…You talk in your sleep again.”

Her breath caught. “I wasn’t asleep yet.”

A beat. His eyes opened—just a sliver, just enough to meet hers. There was no smirk. No teasing. Just that quiet, unreadable look she was starting to memorize. “You said my name,” he murmured.

She flushed instantly, words scrambling. “I—I don’t remember—”

“I do.”

The silence that followed stretched thin, warm, alive with something unspoken. Her fingers curled unconsciously against his shirt again.

Sunghoon didn’t move.

He didn’t pull away.

Instead, he closed his eyes again and said quietly, “Five more minutes. Then you can go back to pretending we don’t like each other.”

She let out a shaky laugh. “Deal.”

And so they stayed like that—still, silent, suspended in the soft gray hour between night and morning. Not quite a confession. Not quite a denial. But something real in between.

⸻

By noon, they were back in their whites. Sunghoon was reviewing scans with his usual unreadable expression, and Y/N was beside him, slightly more relaxed than usual—though her hands still fidgeted with the corner of the tablet as she read vitals over his shoulder. When she reached for a pen at the same time he did, their fingers brushed—brief, but enough to make her flinch half an inch. He didn’t pull away. Instead, he just kept writing, deadpan. “You can’t keep doing that every time we touch.”

“Doing what?” she said, a little too quickly.

“Acting like it didn’t happen,” he murmured without looking up.

She blinked. Her pulse fluttered. And when she stole a glance at him—just a flick of her eyes—his mouth twitched like he’d caught it. Later, in the OR, they worked on a post-op complication together. Fast. Fluid. Almost like they could read each other’s thoughts.

“Clamp,” she said.

He passed it.

“Retract?”

He was already moving. “I’m on it.”

“Pressure’s stable—”

“Keep it there. Good.”

One of the scrub nurses muttered to the anesthesiologist, “They always been this in sync?”

The other nurse shrugged. “Didn’t use to be. Something changed.”

⸻

After surgery, they scrubbed out together in silence—shoulders brushing as they reached for the same towel. Again.

This time, neither of them moved away.

“I’m just saying,” said Dr. Ryu, a junior resident passing by with a smug smile, “if you two want to start finishing each other’s sentences, the rest of us will just assume it’s a married couple thing.” Y/N nearly dropped her towel. Sunghoon didn’t even blink. But then he turned to her, eyes steady, and said dryly, “We’ll have to work on our vows then.”

She stared at him, completely thrown.

He walked away.

She was left blushing by the sinks, heart hammering, while the other resident practically cackled.

⸻

It was nearing the end of their shift when Y/N noticed the blood.Just a faint smear against Sunghoon’s glove, but enough to stop her mid-sentence. She followed the trail with her eyes—to the side of his hand, just beneath the wrist. A shallow but angry-looking gash.

“Hey,” she said sharply. “What happened?”

He barely glanced at it. “Caught it on the edge of the equipment cart earlier. It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not,” she snapped, louder than she intended.

He raised a brow at her. “Y/N—”

“You didn’t even clean it?”

“I didn’t have time.”

She exhaled tightly, already pulling gloves and antiseptic from the drawer beside her. “Sit.”

“I’m not a patient.”

“Well, you’re bleeding like one, so shut up and sit.”

There was something wild in her eyes, not just frustration but worry—sharp and real. He sat.She took his hand gently, pressing a sterile cloth against the cut. He flinched, just barely, and she softened her touch instantly.

“Sorry,” she murmured. “You have to take care of yourself too, you know.”

“You’re overreacting.”

“No,” she said, voice quieter now. “You are. You do this thing—like if you ignore it, it won’t hurt. That’s not how it works. You’re not invincible, Sunghoon.”

His name on her lips made his fingers twitch in hers.

She wrapped the gauze slowly, carefully, her brow furrowed. Her touch was precise, but tender—almost reverent. He watched her, watched the way she handled him like something she couldn’t afford to break.And when she finally looked up, their faces were too close. The air between them pulsed.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

Her eyes flicked to his. “For what?”

“For caring. Even when I make it hard.”

She didn’t speak.

She didn’t need to.

Because her hand was still on his, and he hadn’t pulled away, and something in her chest was fluttering, aching, burning.

He leaned in—slowly, hesitantly—as if giving her time to stop him.

She didn’t.

Their lips met gently, barely more than a brush at first—but it deepened quickly, quietly, like something inevitable. Like the world narrowed to just this moment. His uninjured hand cupped the side of her neck, pulling her in, anchoring her there. Her fingers gripped his wrist—not his bandaged one, but the other—steady, sure, as if grounding herself.

It wasn’t rushed.

It wasn’t impulsive.

It was earned—built from every sleepless shift, every whispered name, every quiet act of care they never spoke about.

When they finally parted, neither of them moved right away. His forehead rested against hers. Their breaths tangled.

“Was that okay?” he asked, low, vulnerable.

She nodded. “More than okay.”

He exhaled, just the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Good.”

⸻

The hospital was as chaotic as ever the next morning—stretchers rolling in, pages echoing through the halls, the clatter of carts and calls for consults. But beneath all of it, something felt… different.

Not between everyone.

Just between them.

Y/N found Sunghoon in the hallway outside the cardiology wing, reviewing a file. He looked up the moment he felt her approach—like he’d already known she was coming.

No words at first. Just a lingering look.

Not the cold kind. Not the unreadable one.

This was the quiet acknowledgment of something shared. Something real.

He handed her the chart without breaking eye contact. “You’re late.”

She took it, unbothered. “You’re always early.”

“Habit.”

“Control freak.”

He smirked. “Still talking in your sleep?”

“Only when someone forgets to give me a blanket.”

He didn’t laugh—but his smile stayed. Barely-there, but constant. And warm. They walked down the hall in sync. She was reading vitals. He was adjusting his watch. Their hands brushed again—this time, neither pulled away.

⸻

In the recovery room, an elderly patient tilted her head at them after her post-op checkup. Mrs. Kang

“You two married?” she asked with a sly grin.

Y/N choked slightly. Sunghoon didn’t even blink.

“Not yet,” he said smoothly, turning the page on her chart.

Y/N turned bright red. “Dr. Park—!”

He passed her the clipboard like nothing happened, eyes twinkling as he whispered, “Don’t deny fate, Y/N.” She shot him a glare that had no real heat. Just a flustered kind of fondness.

The patient just chuckled to herself and said, “Well, I’ll be alive long enough to see it, I hope.”

Sunghoon, for the first time in front of someone else, let himself smile fully. “Count on it.”

⸻

The day passed in a rhythm. They shared notes without asking. Their silences were no longer tense—just comfortable. He offered her a ride home again, and this time, she didn’t hesitate.

When they reached her building, he didn’t say anything at first. Just reached into the backseat and handed her a little paper bag.

“What’s this?”

“Your favorite snack,” he said like it was obvious.

She stared. “You remembered?”

“Of course I did.”

There was no teasing this time. No sarcasm.

Just honesty.

She softened. “You’re really not that grumpy.”

He glanced at her, mouth tugging into that small, familiar smile again. “Don’t ruin my reputation.”

She laughed—and leaned in. A small kiss to his cheek this time, just as she stepped out. He blinked. Clearly not expecting it.

“See you tomorrow, Dr. Park.”

His voice followed her up the stairs. “Don’t be late, Dr. Y/N.”And for the first time in a long time, the shift in both of them wasn’t looming or confusing.

It just was.

Settled. Steady. Real.

⸻

Their rare day off was quiet, the kind of morning where even the city seemed to hush. Sunghoon didn’t tell her where they were going at first—just that he was picking her up early and to wear something warm.

They drove in companionable silence. The road stretched away from the city and into the hills, lined with budding trees and spring wind. She didn’t ask. She could tell from the way he gripped the wheel—steady, focused—that this wasn’t just a casual drive.

When they arrived, he parked at the edge of a small cemetery. Clean. Peaceful. Tucked behind rows of cherry blossoms just beginning to bloom.

Y/N followed him up the gentle slope until they stopped in front of a simple headstone: Kang Jiwoo. The inscription was brief. The flowers beside it fresh.

Sunghoon didn’t say anything at first. He just stood there, hands in his coat pockets, gaze fixed on the stone. Y/N didn’t speak either. She just waited.

After a moment, he exhaled quietly.

“I come here every year,” he said, almost absently. “More often in the beginning. Now… when it feels right.” She glanced at him. He looked calm, but not distant. Like this wasn’t a weight he carried alone anymore.

“She was a nurse,” he continued. “Bright. Too bright for someone like me, really. She used to call me a robot.”

Y/N smiled softly. “She had a point.”

He huffed, faintly amused.

“She made me less rigid,” he said. “Taught me how to slow down. How to care without calculating the risk.” His voice dipped. “I forgot that after I lost her.” Y/N stepped closer but didn’t touch him—just let her presence be known, steady and quiet. He turned to her then, and for the first time, there was no shadow behind his eyes when he looked at her. Just something open. Braver.

“I wanted you to meet her,” he said. “In a way. Because… I think she would’ve liked you.”

Y/N’s eyes prickled, but she blinked it back. She knelt, brushing a stray leaf from the base of the stone, and whispered under her breath.

“Hi, Jiwoo,” she said softly. “I’m not here to take anything. Just asking for a little blessing.”

She smiled, tilting her head up toward the sky. “I’ve been waiting for someone who could make me feel safe without making me smaller. Who doesn’t need me to be perfect. Just… me.”

Sunghoon’s chest ached in a way he hadn’t expected. “And I think I found him,” she added, her voice barely above a whisper. “So if you’re watching over him… maybe you could watch over me, too?” He crouched beside her then. Not touching. Just being close.

Their shoulders brushed. The wind moved gently through the trees.

“I think,” he said quietly, “she already is.”

⸻

They drove back with lighter hearts. He let her control the playlist this time. She didn’t tease him when he hummed along. And when she reached across the center console to lace her fingers through his, he didn’t hesitate.

Not this time.

Sunghoon didn’t take her home right away.

Instead, he drove them into a quiet town square nearby. It was the kind of place with cobbled sidewalks, sun-washed shop windows, and a single family-run restaurant that smelled like warmth and comfort the moment they stepped in.

The old couple who ran the place greeted Sunghoon like an old friend.

“Aigoo, Doctor Park!” the ahjumma beamed, wiping her hands on her apron. “You finally brought someone!”

Y/N blinked, slightly startled. Sunghoon rubbed the back of his neck, clearly caught off guard. “We’re just—”

But the ahjussi had already waved them in. “Sit, sit! We’ll bring your usual. And something sweet for the lady, hmm?” They sat at the small wooden table by the window, surrounded by cozy mismatched chairs and plants in chipped mugs. Y/N leaned her chin on her palm, amused.

“Finally brought someone?’ You bring girls here often, Dr. Park?”

“Never,” he said, not even blinking. “You’re the first.”

That shut her up.

Lunch came fast—simple, homey dishes. Kimchi jjigae, crispy jeon, and a little plate of tteok for dessert. Midway through the meal, the ahjumma came over to refill their water, squinting at them like she was trying to solve a happy mystery.

“Are you two married already?” she asked brightly. “You look like a couple with a toddler waiting at home.” Y/N nearly choked on her bite. “N-No! We’re not—”

Sunghoon just raised a brow but didn’t correct her. The ahjumma chuckled, clearly not buying it. “He always looked too serious before, but now look—he’s all soft around the edges.” She winked at Y/N. “That’s love, yeobo.”

The word hit Y/N like a jolt of warm electricity.

Sunghoon stood to pay before she could respond, muttering something about “old people being nosy” under his breath. As they walked out, Y/N nudged him, eyes still sparkling.

“You gonna call me yeobo now, too?”

“Do you want me to?” he asked, completely straight-faced. She laughed—full and real. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He opened the car door for her and leaned in just slightly.

“Try me, yeobo.”

She flushed to the tips of her ears and swatted his chest, climbing in with a flustered smile that didn’t leave her face for hours.

⸻

After lunch, they strolled through the small town center, ducking into shops just for the fun of it. She made him try on ridiculous sunglasses. He made her pick a snack from the bakery “for later,” even though she insisted she wasn’t hungry.

They walked shoulder to shoulder, brushing arms, laughing quietly like the world had softened just for them. No pager, no emergencies. Just them. He bought her a tiny ceramic poodle figurine after she giggled at how much it looked like Gaeul. She didn’t say it out loud, but she wrapped her fingers around it carefully like it meant more than just a joke.

Dinner was unplanned. A small grill restaurant, tucked between two boutiques. The kind of place with sizzling meat and clinking plates and the warmth of shared stories over charcoal smoke. Y/N tried to pour him soju, and he dodged it at first—“I’m driving”—but she pouted until he let her at least fill his glass with cider.

“I had a really good day,” she said at one point, poking at her bowl of rice. “Thank you for letting me in.”

He looked at her for a moment longer than he should have. “You’re already in,” he said quietly. “You’ve been in for a while.”

The sky had long gone dark by the time they drove back. The road home was quiet, lined with streetlamps casting warm pools of light on the asphalt.

She fell asleep somewhere along the way, her head tipping toward the window before finally sliding softly to his shoulder. Her breath was slow, steady, warm against his shirt.

Sunghoon didn’t move. He just let her rest.

When they pulled up to her apartment, he cut the engine and sat for a second longer than he needed to. Her eyes fluttered open, a little dazed and blinking at him.

“We’re home,” he murmured.

She nodded slowly, stretching with a yawn. But when he got out and walked her to the door like he always did, she didn’t open it right away. Instead, she turned, leaned against it, and looked up at him.

“You could stay,” she said, softly.

He blinked. “Y/N…”

She pulled her best weapon—those wide eyes, full of mischief and something gentler underneath. “Just to talk. Watch something. You know. Rest. He arched a brow. “This isn’t how resting usually works.” “You haven’t rested all day either.” He hesitated. But then she tugged his sleeve, and he caved like he always did.

Inside, she handed him a blanket and told him to sit while she made tea. He didn’t say anything, just followed her lead, the corners of his mouth twitching into something almost boyish as he looked around her apartment like he was seeing it for the first time. And when she finally flopped down beside him, tea in hand, he whispered without looking at her, “You know this doesn’t feel temporary, right?” She sipped her tea, leaned against him, and whispered back, “It doesn’t have to be.”

⸻

They didn’t pick anything serious to watch. Just a random drama that was trending—one with overly dramatic plot twists, too-pretty doctors, and love triangles that made them both scoff. She sat curled up under one end of the blanket. He sat beside her, long legs stretched out, sipping the tea she made like it wasn’t too sweet for his taste. At one point, she laughed—loud and unfiltered—at a particularly absurd scene. Sunghoon turned toward her with a small, incredulous smile.

“You’re really into this, huh?”

“It’s terrible. But I need to know if the second lead confesses before the wedding.”

He chuckled under his breath and shook his head, but when she leaned into him during the next episode without saying a word, he didn’t shift away. He just pulled the blanket up around her shoulders a little more securely. By the third episode, her eyes started fluttering closed again.

“You’re falling asleep,” he said softly.

She hummed. “’M not.”

He glanced down to find her curled into his side, tea long abandoned on the table. Her breathing deepened. His shoulder had become her pillow again. He didn’t mind.

⸻

When the credits rolled, he muted the TV and let the silence fill the room. A soft hum from the fridge, the occasional car passing outside.She stirred in her sleep but didn’t wake. Sunghoon watched her for a moment—her hair slightly messy from the couch pillow, one hand resting over her stomach like a sleeping child, a small frown between her brows even now. Always so much feeling in her. His fingers hovered above her cheek for a second before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You really are something else,” he murmured, voice so low it got swallowed by the dark. He leaned back, head tilting against the couch, and closed his eyes.

⸻

They woke tangled.

She stirred first—blinking blearily, realizing her hand was on his chest and her legs draped over his.“Oh my god,” she whispered. “Hmm?” he groaned, eyes half-lidded. “You move a lot.”“You’re literally hugging me.” He looked down, then shrugged, completely unapologetic. “You didn’t seem to mind last night.”

She flushed, but couldn’t hide the small smile creeping onto her lips. “So… you’re staying for breakfast?” He smirked, brushing a thumb against the back of her hand before standing to stretch. “Only if you’re making pancakes.”

“Only if you’re doing the dishes.”

“Deal.”

It was the kind of morning that felt like they’d been doing this for years.

⸻

The scent of butter and warm batter filled the small kitchen, sunlight pouring in through the half-open blinds. Y/N stood by the stove, flipping the pancakes with practiced ease, still wearing her sleep shirt and the flannel pants she’d tossed on earlier. Her hair was a little messy. Her eyes still carried that post-nap haze. But there was a softness in the air, one that hadn’t quite left since they woke up.

She didn’t hear him walk in at first.So when Sunghoon wrapped his arms around her from behind, she let out a startled little squeak, only for him to chuckle and bury his face into the crook of her neck.

“You’re warm,” he murmured, voice still heavy with sleep.

She relaxed into him instinctively, the spatula in her hand hovering over the pan. “You’re clingy,” she said, but there was no bite—only fondness.

“You’re pretty,” he replied, arms tightening a little as he nuzzled behind her ear. “Baby.” She blinked at the pet name, her breath hitching just a little. It came out so effortlessly.

As if he’d always meant to call her that.

“I’m trying to make you breakfast,” she whispered, heart thudding quietly in her chest.

“I know,” he said, smiling into her skin. “But it’s unfair. You’re cooking and looking like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like the girl I’m… falling for.”

She went still, just for a beat. Not dramatic. Not heavy. Just honest. Soft-spoken and steady, like he wasn’t afraid of the truth anymore. She turned slightly, just enough to see his face. “That so?” Sunghoon kissed her temple, then her cheek. “Mm. I like waking up with you. Like this.”“Even if I burn your pancakes?”

“I’ll eat them anyway.”

She turned fully, wrapping her arms around his waist this time, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his jaw. “Then let me finish, clingy boy.” “Fine.” He smirked. “But I’m still hugging you while you do it.” And he did—standing there behind her, arms around her middle, chin on her shoulder while she made breakfast like it was the most natural thing in the world.

part 2

permanent taglist: @ijustwannareadstuff20 @hoonielvv @rjssierjrie @firstclassjaylee @morganaawriterr @rikifever @daisyintherainsposts @kkamismom12 @pocketzlocket @semi-wife @soona-huh

#this is far too good #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon x reader #sunghoonfluff

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lookingforsnacks · 12 days ago

Text

Inevitable (Alex Summers x Reader)

Inevitable (Alex Summers x Reader) Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 13,014 Warnings: violence, angst, fluff, death, injuries, mentions of unable to have children, sad ending, implied sexual actions Spoilers: I guess the plots of X-Men First Class, Days of Future Past, and Apocalypse but the films have been out for years so don't at me.

This is the story of Y/N L/N and Alex Summers - of Aura, the girl who could turn invisible and manipulate energy around her, and Havok, the boy who could generate and blast plasma from his body. A boy destined for destruction, and a girl who could prevent it.

Their story was always inevitable.

I'm going through an X-Men rewatch and I forgot how much of a chokehold some of these characters had me in, especially from the First Class era. As you can probably tell from my previous stories, I have an soft spot for the tragic ones, so here is my little story of Alex Summers who bloody deserved better.

1962 - C.I.A. Mutant Division

Y/N looked around at her surroundings as she followed Erik and Charles down corridor after corridor. She'd never met C.I.A agents before, let alone stepped inside one of their facilities. But Erik and Charles aren't C.I.A., she reminded herself as she took in the bland concrete walls and cold, harsh lighting above her. They were like her - mutants.

She hadn't believed them at first when they'd told her just a few hours ago inside the cafe she was closing up for the day. It had been a busy day and she hadn't had time for a drink of water let alone any reasonable break. She thought she was hallucinating when the two had entered the cafe, prattling on about how they knew who she was.

It was only when she demanded they prove it - that they were like her - and the taller one (Erik) had lifted every piece of dirty cutlery in the store and had them float into the foaming sink to be cleaned that she believed them.

That was almost seven hours ago, the drive from New York to Virginia giving the men more than enough time to bring her up to speed on what they were doing and why: they were gathering other mutants like her to stop another war from starting.

As she followed the two men through the facility, only now did she start to have doubts about their intentions. For all she knew, she was going to be experimented on and tortured, possibly killed.

'If we'd wanted you dead, we would've made sure of that back in New York,' Charles suddenly said without looking as he and Erick led the way.

'What? How did you-' Y/N started to ask, but cut herself off as she remembered what Charles' gift allowed him to do.

Y/N noticed her surroundings starting to change. Instead of a war bunker, the corridors started looking more home-like and the lights grew warmer. As they approached a big orange door, Y/N heard voices speaking and laughing in the room beyond. They sounded... happy.

Finally, Charles looked at her and spoke, but not with his mouth. I promise you, Y/N, he said into her mind, freaking her out a little bit, you don't have to be scared here. You don't have to hide who you are from the people beyond this door. Here, you can be free. Happy, even.

Y/N looked between Charles and the door for a moment, imagining whose faces belonged to which laugh, which voice. She imagined herself doing those same things, and that was what convinced her that she was in the right place.

'Are you ready to meet your new family?' Charles asked aloud this time, to which Y/N nodded and Erik opened the door.

Y/N was met with six people sitting around a coffee table chatting and laughing while having a few drinks. She took a moment to admire them all - a short girl with dark hair and visible tattoos all along her shoulders and arms; a red-head who seemed to be doing a lot of the talking in the group; a man with charcoal skin and broad shoulders in a tight grey vest-shirt; a boy with glasses who looked really shy next to a gorgeous blonde girl who could very well have been a super model; and a blond boy in a dark t-shirt and leather jacket who had the smoothest smile Y/N had ever seen.

They were the perfect picture - how could she possibly interrupt that? Y/N was about to leave when suddenly Charles called for everyone's attention and that smooth smile from the blond was now aimed at her. Her heart thudded in her chest, embarrassment at being caught flooding her cheeks and she just had the visceral response to hide, hide, hide.

'Everyone,' Charles started proudly as he motioned to Y/N, 'this is Y/N. She will be- Wait, where did she go?'

Y/N watched as everyone looked around the room even though she she hadn't moved. Both Charles and Erik looked at her, but they didn't seem to see her. That's when she looked down at her hands and found her entire body covered in a translucent light only she could see. And that could only mean one thing.

'Sorry, I'm right here.' Y/N concentrated hard on revealing herself and when she could no longer see the translucent light, she knew she could be seen again.

'Whoa,' the red-head said, his mouth gaping in shock.

'That... is wicked cool,' the broad-shouldered man exclaimed.

'As I was saying before,' Charles said, sounding sheepish at forgetting her ability, 'this is Y/N. She will be joining you all and her gift... Well, we will leave that to her to discuss that with you all. Erik?'

'Yes,' Erik replied, and then the two of them were gone, closing the door behind them and leaving Y/N standing all alone.

Y/N was usually a confident person - she had to be as a waitress - but having six pairs of eyes staring at her so intently had her wanting to hide again. The beautiful blonde stood up from her place on the white couch and sauntered over to her. Y/N found herself looking up at the woman, who seemed to have legs for days and the most beautiful smile as she approached.

'I'm Raven,' she said, holding a hand out in greeting. When Y/N shook her hand, she gestured to the couch. 'You've come at the best time. We were all just about to discuss our gifts with one another.'

Y/N was quickly dragged to the couch and plunged into an in-depth conversation with the six. After only a few minutes, Y/N felt as if she'd always been there, talking and laughing and joking around and becoming more confident. Although, she couldn't compete with the blond boy with the smooth smile from earlier, now known as Alex Summers.

In the short time she'd heard him speak, she'd deduced he was the cockiest man in every room ever. No wonder he was put into solitary confinement, she thought when he mentioned he was picked up by Charles and Erik at his army base. He's probably been the instigator of more than one fight.

'We should think of some code names,' Raven suggested enthusiastically. 'We're technically government agents now. We should have code names. I want to be called Mystique.'

'Damn, I wanted to be called Mystique,' Sean, the red-head, groaned in fake misery, causing everyone to laugh.

'Well, tough. I called it,' Raven said, then her voiced changed as she physically did, eliciting gasps from the group as she now sat as an exact replica of Sean. 'And I am way more mysterious than you.'

The group gave her a round of applause as she morphed back into the beautiful blonde, but now that she'd revealed her gift, Y/N wondered if what she showed everyone now was her true form or just another disguise.

One by one they went around the room, showing off their abilities and coming up with names for each other. The mood somewhat soured when Angel asked Hank who he wanted to be.

'How about Bigfoot?' Alex jested as he took another sip of his coke. His condescending laughter communicated that it wasn't a nice joke, and that didn't sit well with Y/N.

'Well you know what they say about guys with big feet,' Raven said, eyeing his own feet before she continued, 'and, um, yours are kind of small.'

Alex's smirk dropped instantaneously as the group laughed and oohed at Raven's burn. Except for Darwin, who rounded the group back to the topic at hand.

'Okay, okay, settle down now,' he said. 'What can you do, Alex. What is your gift?'

'How about being burnt by women?' Y/N murmured just loud enough for the group to hear, earning another round of laughs and a hard glare from Alex. Y/N held his gaze with a smirk in challenge, taking a sip of her own drink. He might've been top dog back in army bootcamp, but Y/N didn't like bullies, especially if they were meant to be teammates.

Alex eventually dropped his glare, his whole demeanour changing as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. 'Um, it's just... It's just that... I can't do... I can't do it in here.'

'Can you do it out there?' Darwin asked, and when Alex hesitated to answer, the rest of the group started goading and pleading him to show his abilities. Y/N even found herself intrigued. What could Alex do that he needed open space for?

The group cheered victoriously as Alex gave in to peer pressure, put his drink down and climbed through the broken glass courtesy of Sean moments before. As Alex set up outside, Y/N joined the others who leaned out the broken window to watch him.

'Get down when I tell you,' Alex said as he lined up in front of the bronze statue that's head still smoked - courtesy of Angel's fireball during her demonstration.

'Get back,' Alex said, and Y/N leaned back with the rest of the group, but they all apparently were too intrigued and so they all leaned out from behind the wall to watch him.

Alex went to make a move until he realised the group hadn't listened to him. 'Get back!' he warned again, but when no one moved, he faced the statue again. 'Whatever.'

Y/N found herself gaping at Alex as he seemingly powered up, red rings of plasma rotating around him until he slung them out into the open space but uncontrolled. The last one hit the statue, slicing it on a diagonal that had its head and part of its torso falling to the grass in flames.

The group erupted in rounds of applause as Alex walked back to them. He appeared more confident now as his teammates applauded. Y/N figured he wasn't used to that. Perhaps that was why he'd been in solitary confinement as much as he had been.

'Well, I'm glad you did that out here,' Darwin said, looking at the wreckage slightly worried. 'You've caused... a bit of chaos.'

'I can't control it, unfortunately,' Alex said, looking at the damage he'd caused. 'I'm hoping that might change one day.'

'Don't be ashamed of your gift, Alex,' Raven said, resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 'You're amazing.' She looked to the rest of the group. 'We all are.'

When Raven did that, Alex's attention fell onto Y/N again, a skeptical look on his face. 'So what about you? Do you do anything useful or do you just disappear when you get a little embarrassed?'

Y/N's cheeks heated with anger. Who the hell was he to judge her? He didn't even know her.

'At least I don't cause havoc with my gift,' she bit back, motioning to the flaming buildings and statue.

Where a normal person would look at the damage and wince with remorse, Alex had the audacity to look at his handiwork and laugh in amusement. 'Havoc. I like that. Maybe that should be my code name, except change the c to a k so it looks cooler written down.'

Y/N rolled her eyes while the others complimented how good a name it was. But she had to admit it was a fitting one, just a shame he turned her insult into a name for a hero.

Y/N released a sigh then held out a hand to the fires in the courtyard, concentrating on grasping the energy in the air. After a moment, small bubbles of white energy appeared and Y/N was vaguely aware that her new friends had gone quiet as she forced the bubbles to encapsulate the fires. With a flick of her fingers, the bubbles started shrinking, depriving the fires of oxygen and eventually extinguishing them.

When Y/N turned back to the group, she found them all gaping at her in wonder and shock.

'Well, that was cool,' Angel said, earning hums of agreement from the others.

'What exactly did you just do?' Hank asked.

'I don't really know what it is,' Y/n answered honestly. 'But, I think I can manipulate energy or something like that. I can create those force fields, and as you saw before...'

Y/N let the energy hide her, and she relished the shocked faces of her friends as they could no longer see her. Feeling cheeky, she ran at Alex then dropped and swiped his legs out from underneath him, sending him sprawling to the ground.

He landed with a resounding thud, his breath escaping him in a loud, 'Oof,' as he did. Only then did Y/N reveal herself, looking down at him with a smug smile.

'...I can turn invisible.'

The others clapped in appreciation of her demonstration while Alex looked up at her in annoyance. Y/N offered her hand to help him up and surprisingly he took it and together they pulled him to his feet.

'So what, you can control, like, the Force, or something?' he asked.

Y/N rolled her eyes. 'This isn't Star Wars, asshole. It's more like... I can feel the aura of the energy around me and I connect with it and then use it to my will.'

'That's it!' Angel exclaimed suddenly. 'That's your name!"

'What is?' Y/N asked, confused.

'Aura!'

'Aura.' Y/N tried it on her tongue. She had to admit, it had a nice ring to it.

'Aura, Havok, Banshee, Darwin, Angel...' Raven said each of their new code names as she looked at them, grabbing a drink for herself from the table. She looked to Hank. 'We'll find one for you soon, Hank,' she reassured, then pointed to herself. 'And Mystique.' She raised her drink high and everyone else did the same. 'Here's to our new life. Here's to being our true selves.'

'Here, here,' Sean said as they all clinked their drinks together in solidarity.

'So, what do you think?' Alex said just to Y/N as seperate conversations between the others started. Angel switched on some music and her and Raven jumped on the coffee table to start dancing.

'About what?' Y/N asked.

'Are you going to be your true self here? With us?' he asked, and there was a little challenge in his question, as if he really wanted to add Or are you going to hide away?

Y/N had so far lived her life in constant fear. But Erik and Charles said they needed her, that the world needed her. Perhaps it was time to stop hiding.

Y/N flashed Alex a small smile, reflecting his challenge in her own eyes. 'I don't think you could handle the true me, Havok.'

Alex's grin widened devilishly. 'Try me, Aura.'

1962 - X Mansion, pre-Cuba

It had been weeks since the C.I.A Mutant Division facility had been attacked by Shaw, that Angel had chosen his side, that Darwin had sacrificed himself in the effort to save them all, Angel included.

Egos bruised and hope extinguished, Charles had brought those who remained back to his mansion to train for the upcoming battle with Shaw. Which is what Y/N was doing with Raven when Charles entered the gym requesting her presence in the war bunker.

'You want me to what?' both Alex and Y/N exclaimed together in the bunker, gaping at Charles because he'd clearly lost his mind.

'You heard me,' Charles said nonchalantly, walking to stand in the middle of the room. 'I want you two to spar while you, Y/N, protect me. Expand your range of concentration so you can control different energies at once, manipulate numerous fields doing different things simultaneously. Alex now has the tools he needs to control his power so he won't be as volatile as he once was.'

'Hey now,' Alex said, clearly offended.

Charles offered a mediocre apologetic smile before readdressing Y/N. 'You have to push the limits you have set for yourself in order to become stronger. I can sense your full potential hasn't even been scraped at yet. How about we try today.'

Y/N looked between Charles and Alex, who also looked at Charles like he was crazy. But there was an air of truth to his demands. Shaw was no novelty mutant, and neither were Angel and the other mutants following him. If Y/N didn't do this, she would be their next victim, and what kind of teammate would she be if she died too early?

Y/N eventually nodded her agreement. 'Okay, let's do this.'

'You sure about this?' Alex asked her.

'Aw, is big old Alex Summers worried about hurting me?' Y/N taunted, though she didn't really know why. His concern was sort of sweet.

It disgusted her.

Alex's concern scrunched up in annoyance on his stupidly beautiful face. 'No. I just... Oh, screw this. Fine let's spar, L/N.'

Y/N went to stand at one end of the bunker and Alex at the opposite end. Charles planted himself right in the middle of the two, looking too casual for Y/N's liking. Did he really have that much faith in them?

'Whenever you two are ready,' Charles called out, rocking on the back of his heels in anticipation.

'Okay,' Alex said hesitantly as he fired himself up. His new chest plate helped him to control his plasma so he surely would hit the professor if Y/N didn't do something.

Just as Alex fired, Y/N placed a force field over Charles and the plasma blast bounced off it and straight back at Alex. Alex had to duck quickly as his own blast came hurtling back at him, and Charles let out a small laugh as the blast made a small dent in the wall behind Alex.

'Well this is going to be fun,' Charles said, and the fight truly begun.

Alex would sling shot after shot at Y/N and the professor, but Y/N deflected every shot and held the force field around the professor soundly. At one point, Y/N managed to to turn in visible while Alex was distracted and landed a few blows.

But Alex managed to knock her back, the blow forcing her to reveal herself. She had no time to worry about being exposed however, as Alex powered up for what seem to be one giant blast. Y/N managed to bring up a force field around her as the blast connected, but instead of bouncing up off it, the plasma seemed to sink into the force field.

Y/n looked around in confusion, feeling the energy flowing stronger through the force field and increasing with every second. She was vaguely aware of someone calling her name - it sounded like Charles - but the energy was becoming too much to hold up now.

Y/N let out a cry as she released the force field, and the shockwave it sent through the bunker sent both her and Alex flying to opposite ends of the bunker.

Y/N smacked into the solid brick hard, sending an intense throbbing through her head as she hit the ground. Her vision blurred and she felt drained of power like never before. Two blurry figures were in front of her, their mouthes moving but not saying a word. She thought they were saying her name.

After a few more seconds, her hearing came back to her as well as her vision, showing Alex and Charles kneeling beside her with worry on their faces.

'Y/N, can you hear me?' Charles asked, scanning over her body for any injuries.

'Are you okay? Can you hear us? Say something,' Alex said, eyes searching her face for any sign that she understood anything they were saying.

Y/N hummed in reassurance and his worry dissipated into relief. Alex quickly helped her into a sitting position as she gathered herself. 'Well,' she breathed out, giving Alex an amused smile, 'that was... fun.'

This elicited a laugh out of both men as they helped her to her feet. Y/N was very aware of Alex's hand holding her steady on the small of her back as they both listened to Charles.

'My! You two create quite the show,' he exclaimed with an enthusiasm that kind of scared Y/N. 'Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant work, you two. You have both grown in leaps and bounds these past few weeks. I daresay you will both be quite powerful when you fully master your gifts. Now, take the afternoon off, possibly head to Hank in the lab for some patching up and look overs. I will see you both first thing tomorrow.'

'He sounds like a professor talking to students,' Alex muttered after Charles had left.

Y/N shrugged. 'Well, we kind of are students, so I guess that would make him our professor.'

The two shared a small laugh and both their eyes slipped to his arm, which was attached to the hand that still pressed gently against her back. Alex quickly dropped his hand and Y/N took a decent step away from him. Well now it's awkward.

'G-Good fight,' Alex finally said after seconds of silence, unable to meet her eyes. He did the thing where he rubbed his neck and Y/N's stomach did a little flip at how cute the gesture was.

Quit that, she told herself, then realised she hadn't responded to him. 'Y-yeah. You too. Sorry... for sending you into the wall.'

'It's okay. I've been hit harder,' he said, and his cocky smirk was back. Something about his statement rubbed Y/N up the wrong way, like he was undermining her ability. That was a pretty decent fight they just had.

Y/N just huffed and stormed out of the bunker. 'Whatever,' she muttered as she left him behind.

'Hey,' Alex called out as he ran to catch up with her. 'What's wrong? You want me to apologise too? Okay, I'm sorry for sending you into the wall, too. There? Happy?'

'You know,' she started, stomping up the stairs that would take her to the first floor of the mansion, 'you can be such a jerk, Alex.'

'What are you talking about?' he asked, and he had the audacity to sound genuinely clueless.

At the top of the stairs Y/N finally stopped to let Alex catch up. She didn't care that he was taller than her, she looked up at him with annoyance in her eyes. 'You can never admit that someone could be better than you, let alone that they could be your equal.'

His face screwed up in confusion. 'What? That's not what I meant. Where did you get that impression from?'

'You think yourself superior to us all, and for what? We all have gifts, Alex. We are all special and useful and powerful. Yet you make fun of Hank, you belittle me. What is your problem?!'

Alex stepped towards Y/N, closing what little space there had been between until she felt his breath brushing her heated cheeks. 'You know, I was just about to pay you a compliment but forget it.'

'I wouldn't want a compliment from you, Alex. They're more like insults than anything,' Y/N said then stormed off.

'Princess!' Alex called out after her in a last ditch effort to have the last word.

'Jerk!' she answered over her shoulder.

'Coward!'

'Asshole!'

Y/N finally entered the lab and Hank was already looking at her crossed arms.

'You know, you two really need to take your fights outside,' he simply said, already reaching for his equipment to check her health.

Y/N raised a brow in a silent question, to which Hank responded, 'The walls and floors to this place aren't as thick as they appear.'

Downstairs where Y/N had left Alex smouldering, a certain telepath entered Alex's mind. Well that's an interesting flirting tactic.

'Oh, piss off,' Alex hissed aloud as he walked in the opposite direction towards his assigned bedroom. Y/N was the most aggravating person in existence. Flirting with her was the last thing on Alex's mind.

I don't know, I think you two would make a rather nice couple, Charles interjected again.

'I said piss off!'

1962 - Cuba Beach

Y/N was locked in a fight with Riptide when she saw Alex and Sean crash onto the beach, Angel having shot them down. As she went to attack, Alex shoved Sean out of range as he unleashed his uncontrolled plasma rings, his chest plate missing.

He caught her wings, slicing them in half and sending her flying to the ground, but as Alex helped Sean to his feet, Y/N spied Angel get to her feet, rage in her eyes and fire burning in her mouth.

Alex's back was turned. He would never see it coming.

Y/N, rejuvenated by the threat, turned back to Riptide and conjured up a large energy wave and sent it hurtling at Riptide. He tried bringing up a wall of wind to counteract it, but the wave was stronger and sent him into the side of the uprooted submarine. He fell to the sand with a hard thud and didn't move.

Y/N immediately ran for Alex and Sean, hands raised and conjuring up a force field around her friends just as Angel spat fireball after fireball at the two of them. The fireballs bounced right off the force field, angering Angel even more as she turned her attention to Y/N.

Before she could attack, Y/N trapped Angel in another force field, raised her off the beach, and sent her out over the ocean where she finally let the force field drop. It hurt her to hear her old friend's scream as she fell into the deep water, but Angel had done this to herself.

Y/N turned back to the boys. 'Are you two okay?' she asked, looking over them for any injuries. All she could find was Alex's bare chest and a hole in Sean's wing suit.

'We had it covered,' Alex said, his tone annoyed.

Y/N scoffed. She couldn't believe it. He was still being a self-righteous jerk in the middle of a battle?

'I just saved your life, asshole,' she said, stepping towards him in anger. 'Maybe you should be thanking me instead of complaining like a little boy.'

'Get down,' he said, his eyes on something over her shoulder, but she didn't care. He wasn't listening, but she would make him.

'Don't you tell me what to do you self-righteous jerk-'

'I said get down!'

Before she knew what was happening, Alex was pushing her behind him as he sent plasma rings at Riptide, who Y/N obviously hadn't knocked out entirely and was lining up to attack her from behind.

Riptide saved himself from being sliced like the statue back at the C.I.A. with a small tornado, but the impact from the plasma rings sent him flying over the submarine and out of sight.

'And I just saved yours,' Alex said as her tuned back to a shocked Y/N. He was panting heavily, obviously not used to exerting so much energy in such a short time frame. 'Now we're even.'

The way his words were haggard from his lack of breath made his voice raspy and Y/N hated how much the sound tingled up her spine pleasantly.

Y/N opened her mouth to retort at him - tell him how stupid and reckless and irresponsible and idiotic he was - but she couldn't find anything to say, and so snapped her gaping gob shut in indignation. The two just stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, eyes locked as so many unspoken emotions passed between each other.

Until Sean walked in between the two of them, shaking his head in disbelief. 'Damn, get a room, you two,' he said, his tone both disgusted and amused as he started walking back to Charles and Moira still on the crashed jet.

'We're not-' Y/N started.

'It's nothing like-' Alex interjected at the same time, but Sean was already out of earshot.

Y/N and Alex looked back at each other, both their cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Alex was the one to finally break the silence. 'We should...' he trailed off as he gestured after Sean.

'Right,' Y/N immediately answered, grateful for the change in subject. They still had a fight to win, otherwise the whole world would fall into another war.

Y/N and Alex followed Sean swiftly, happy to leave the awkward interaction behind them. But even after the fight, Y/N didn't know about Alex, but maybe there was a little truth to what Sean's words implied. It wasn't that Alex was unattractive. He was just... infuriating.

But he had saved her life, put his body on the line protect her. That meant he cared for her in some capacity... right?

1967 - X Mansion

'You're what?!' Y/N exclaimed, standing up from her seat in the middle of Charles' office.

'I'm sorry, Y/N, but I have no choice,' Charles said, his voice sad and exhausted.

Y/N should've seen this coming. She'd seen the signs. How Charles had let his hair grow out, how the shadow of a beard grazed his jawline. How he lounged in his wheelchair instead of sitting with his usual perfect posture. And the hope and colour of his eyes had faded to loss and hopelessness.

'Yes, you do,' Y/N argued, slamming her hands on his desk. 'You can choose to keep fighting. You can choose to keep helping and teaching. You can choose hope, Charles.'

'There is no hope left, Y/N,' Charles replied, dejected as he looked anywhere but Y/N's eyes. 'Erik was right. The world is not meant for mutants. The world does not want mutants.'

Y/N walked around the desk to kneel before his wheelchair. 'You can't truly believe that, Charles,' she said trying to catch his gaze. 'After all you have done, after everything we've been through, you cannot believe that. Look at what you've achieved!'

She gestured to the room, but she meant the school as a whole, whose corridors buzzed with students who possessed unique powers. Admittedly the numbers had dwindled significantly because of the Vietnam War, with most of the teachers and the older students being drafted. Y/N had managed to not be drafted so far, and had dedicated every second she had to teaching. She was now in her late 20s and had learned all she could as a student. It was her turn to teach the next generation what it means to be a mutant.

But regardless of numbers, there were still children who needed help. They couldn't close. They just couldn't.

'Please, Charles,' she said, placing a gentle hand on his cheek to guide his eyes to meet hers. He looked in so much pain - a pain Y/N couldn't see but she could certainly try to understand. 'There is still hope. There is still good in the world. We just have to find it again.'

Charles didn't say anything at first, and Y/N took that as a sign that maybe she'd gotten through to him. Since beginning her teaching career, Charles had become like an older brother to her. He hadn't given up on her when she didn't believe in herself all those years ago, she wasn't going to give up on him now.

But Charles gently took her hand away from his face and turned his chair so he faced away from her. 'Hope is a human error. I've already made up my mind, Y/N. I suggest you forget about all of this and go live what life you have left. God knows society won't allow you a full one.'

Y/N remained crouching, too shocked to argue, too horrified to be angry. As Charles turned his back on her - busied himself with his bookshelf - Y/N left the room in a daze, still unsure what had just happened. That's how she felt for the rest of the day as she taught and supervised, students constantly asking her if she was okay as she usually wasn't as silent as she was.

Y/N easily deflected the questions, but she couldn't ignore the breaking of her heart every time she spoke with a student, saw them master an ability, ask a question. How would she break the news to them? A more accurate question would be how could she? They looked up to her, to Charles, to all of them. Some of them had no homes to go back to, no families that accepted them or no families at all.

By the time the last bell rang, Y/N was on the brink of breaking down.

It was now late at night, the children well and truly asleep. But Y/N remained awake, walking the mansion, dreading breaking the news tomorrow during the assembly. God knew Charles was in no condition to break the news himself even though he was the headmaster. And Hank hated public speaking despite being a teacher. No, she had to do it, but she'd be breaking hundreds of hearts in the process.

As she reached the front foyer, looking around and remembering her first few days there, remembering the first few days of the school opening and it being full of enthusiastic and excited children, tears welled up in her eyes.

They'd just started to slip when the front doors clanged open. Y/N immediately went into defensive mode, her hands lighting up as her mutation activated

Alex threw his hands up in faux surrender. 'Whoa! Easy Y/N, it's just me!'

Y/N breathed a long sigh of relief as she let her hands drop. 'Jesus, Alex. You mind knocking next time? What are you even doing here? It's two in the morning.'

Alex was also a teacher at the school, but he sometimes slept off campus as his family home was just a few suburbs away. He usually didn't slip back in until just before class though so this encounter was a little surprising.

'I needed to see the professor,' he said, then his face scrunched with worry as he looked over Y/N. 'Were you just crying?'

Y/N quickly turned her back to him to wipe away the tears that had escaped. 'I'm fine. It's nothing.'

'No it's not,' Alex said, and he took quick steps until he stood beside Y/N. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and managed to turn her to face him. He looked down at her with such concern Y/N felt more tears welling up.

He was a dick. From the day they'd met he'd solidified that for himself. But the past five years had seen him mature, grow, change in ways Y/N had no idea he was capable of. She saw how gentle he was with the children, how fiercely protective he'd become of them.

And while they still clashed and fought like cats and dogs, they'd found comfort in each other more than once. They would always laugh on the terrace late at night as they had a nightcap, downloading their days to one another; Y/N would occasionally bring Alex food when she knew he hadn't made it to lunch because he was so busy with work; and Y/N would wake up sometimes from nightmares to Alex comforting her.

Out of all the original X-Men group, those two had become the closest. With Charles busy running the school, Hank busy with his lab, Raven, Erik, and Angel off recruiting for their Brotherhood, and Sean deciding to go see the world, Alex and Y/N only had each other.

'What's wrong?' Alex asked so gently. 'What happened?'

Y/N couldn't get a word out, her heartbreak finally bubbling to the surface as tears and sibs wracked her body.

'Hey, hey, hey,' Alex said as he pulled her tight to his chest, arms wrapping securely around her, hands rubbing up and down her back soothingly. Y/N clung to him for dear life, the only part of her body she could control as she continued crying. 'It's all right. I've got you.'

They stayed like that for a few minutes before Y/N had no more tears to cry. When she finally pulled away, there was a dark patch of tears staining his white t-shirt that he wore under a plaid overskirt. 'Sorry about that.'

'Don't be. Ever,' he said, and Y/N had never seen him so serious before. 'Now, what's wrong?'

'Charles is closing down the school,' she said, voice dejected.

'What?' Alex looked up the stairs then back to Y/N, confusion and anger morphing his features. 'I'm gonna go talk to him.'

He made to run up the stairs and no doubt give Charles a piece of his mind, but Y/N quickly grasped his wrist and halted him. 'You can't,' Y/N said. 'He's already made his mind up.'

'Like hell he has,' Alex seethed, making to leave again but Y/N pulled him back.

'Alex,' she pleaded with him, 'believe me if I could change his mind I would be up there right now doing so. But... he has no hope anymore. The war has dwindled us thin. He doesn't see the good in the world anymore. That's not something we can give back to him. He has to find that again on his own.'

Alex looked ready to argue, jaw clenching as he looked between the stairs and Y/N. But Y/N slipped her hand into his and squeezed it gently and his features softened. He rubbed the back of his neck - as he always did - as he let out a defeated sigh. 'So I guess there isn't any point in informing him that I've been drafted for the war?'

Y/N's eyes bulged and her heart rate spiked with fear. 'You what?' she asked, but she'd heard him correctly.

His jaw clenched as if he didn't want to elaborate. 'Got the call this morning. I'm just surprised it's taken this long for them to find me again.'

That's right. Y/N sometimes forgot he had been in the army just before they met. 'When do you leave?' she asked.

'Two days from now,' he said regrettably.

Y/N never considered herself an emotional person, but tears welled up in her eyes again. 'It's just not fair,' she said, breathless as she tried to keep the tears back. 'You deserve to be free. You deserve to be happy, Alex.'

'Hey, hey,' he cooed, using both hands to cradle her head and neck, forcing her eyes to meet his. 'I'll come back. I promise. And who says I haven't been free and happy?'

He swallowed thickly as his eyes scanned over Y/N's face, hesitating on her lips before looking back at her eyes. Y/N felt then something change. In the air, between them, possibly both - she couldn't quite tell. But the way he was looking at her, how he held her so preciously, had her heart racing.

'The past five years here have been the most free and happy I've ever been,' Alex admitted. 'Training and teaching with Charles and Hank... and you. You have given me a home away from home, a new family. You've protected me when no one else would; you've laughed and cried and fought with me, for me...'

He leaned in closer now, as if there was a gravitational force pulling them together. 'I will come back, Y/N. To you.'

Alex Summers was a dick, but he was also a kind and loyal man. A man silently laying out his heart before her despite their previous disagreements.

'Promise?' she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

'Promise,' he said, and with that confirmation Y/N stood up on her toes to lock her lips with Alex's.

His hands cradled her face still as he held her to him, their lips melding harmoniously as they kissed. This had been building in Y/N since day one when he'd flashed her that smooth smile that sent her stomach into somersaults. Every fight (verbal or physical), every conversation, every drink they shared, every looked that passed between them, it had all been leading to this.

They finally pulled apart but pressed their foreheads together as they caught their breaths.

'I've been wanting to do that for a long time now,' Alex admitted, his words breathless.

'How long?' Y/N asked, curious.

'Since day one,' he answered, then let out a small chuckle. 'I didn't know it at the time, and when I finally did I never wanted to admit it. I think Charles and everyone else knew before I did.'

'It was the same for me,' Y/N assured him, and Alex smiled brightly before he pulled her in for another kiss.

The rest of the night was spent catching up on lost time. Y/N was thanking Charles that all teachers' rooms were at the other end of the mansion to the students' rooms. Y/N and Alex managed an hour of sleep before the rays of dawn warmed them awake.

'We probably shouldn't have done that,' Y/N said, tracing a finger along Alex's toned stomach.

'We were pretty quiet, I thought,' Alex said, stopping threading his fingers through Y/N's hair to press a kiss to the top of her head. 'Though, you did get a bit loud when I-'

'Shut up, asshole,' she said, giving him a slight shove that sent the both of them into a quiet giggling fit. Once they'd both calmed down, Y/N returned to tracing Alex's abs. 'I mean, we shouldn't have done that because you're leaving in two days.'

'Yeah, we certainly have great timing, huh?' Alex tried joking but when Y/N didn't laugh, he sat up in bed bringing her with him. 'Hey, I told you I will come back. Nothing's going to stop that.'

'You can't assure me that,' Y/N countered.

'What was that whole thing about having hope?' Alex questioned, and when Y/N couldn't find an answer. 'I believe in us, Y/N. I have hope. You taught me that. I will come back. I promise.'

Y/N still had her doubts but she allowed herself to play into the fantasy that it would all end up okay, and she leaned in for another mind-melting kiss.

'Okay, Alex,' she conceded. 'But just know you're still an asshole.'

'And you're still a princess. But you're my princess.'

As the two got ready for the day, Alex asked, 'So what are you going to do? When the school closes down.'

Y/N had been thinking about it since Charles told her and hadn't been sure if it was the right thing to do, but she had to try. 'I heard that Raven has broken off from Erik and is going about their cause on her own. I'm going to go find her and bring her home.'

'That's going to be dangerous,' Alex said, his tone worried.

'And going to war isn't?" she countered. 'Raven is like my sister. I've got to help her. There is good in her, she's just angry at the world. You're right. I have to keep hoping, even if everyone else has lost it. Because we are worth it.'

She walked up to Alex to cradle his face as he had done so many times the night just gone. 'We are worth it,' she whispered.

Alex placed a hand of his own over hers, pressing it closer to his face which had only gotten more handsome over the years. 'You're amazing, you know that right?'

Y/N just smiled before bringing him in for another kiss. When they broke apart she took a moment to contemplate his face then laughed.

'What is it?' he asked, an amused smile on his lips.

'We're just two idiots, aren't we?' she said, her tone bordering on sad. 'All that time wasted on arguing. All seems stupid now in the face of danger and death.'

'I disagree,' Alex said as he took her hand and headed for the bedroom door. 'I wouldn't change that time for the world. I am who I am because of that time, and you were always so cute when you were mad.'

'Hey!'

1973 - X Mansion

Y/N breathed a sigh of contentment as she stood out the front of the mansion, all tidied up and ready to reopen.

'I forgot what it used to look like without the overgrown weeds and dusty windows,' Charles admitted as he looked over the entrance too.

'Now whose fault would that be?' Hank asked with a smug smirk on his lips, but it quickly dropped with Charles' side eye.

Y/N smiled at the familiar banter. It had been a long six years full of struggle and pain and loss since Charles officially closed the school. But a man called Logan from the future had convinced Charles of something Y/N had been unable to, and while Y/N hadn't be able to bring Raven home, she'd been able to help their future and bring Charles back to life.

It had taken a few weeks to clean the mansion up with just the three of them. They had no one else to ask. Logan was missing, Raven too. Erik had gone into hiding, and Sean and Angel and most other mutants had been subjected to and killed by Trask's cruel Sentinel trials. None of them had a chance to say goodbye, and that very thought haunted Y/N even now.

And Alex... Last time Y/N checked, Raven had freed him and other mutants in the army who'd been locked up from the rest of the soldiers for some reason. No doubt for experiments. Y/N had been on base that day, but she'd gone to another bunker with other mutants. Her and Raven had stayed behind after that; Y/N never got even a glimpse of him, but Raven said he was okay and that he missed her.

'That doesn't matter now,' Y/N said. 'What matters is we're doing what we were meant to be doing all along. Speaking of which...' Y/N turned to the two men kind of sheepishly. '...I actually can't start teaching again just yet. I have to go.'

'What?' Hank asked. 'Why? We need you here.'

'I know, and I have every intention of coming back,' Y/N hastily reassured. 'I just... I need to go find someone.'

'Who?' Hank asked, but Charles was looking at her knowingly.

'It's Alex, isn't it,' he asked, but it wasn't really a question. Besides, he'd probably read her mind.

Y/N nodded. 'He used to call me from base every two weeks, send letters once a month. But then the calls stopped coming about a year ago, and so did the letters. I didn't even know if he was alive until Raven and I went to his air base. But I didn't see him, and now I need to find him to see if he did make it home after all.'

Charles looked at her and he smiled, the action caught somewhere between pride and sadness. 'You really love him, don't you?' he asked softly.

Y/N found the same smile stretching across her lips as she nodded. 'Very much so.'

Charles chuckled softly as he looked away, then somewhere over her shoulder. 'Very well then, off you go. But... something tells you'll find him closer to home than you think.'

Confused, Y/N turned to follow where he was looking over her shoulder and saw a black Cadillac pulling into the driveway. It wasn't until the driver pulled up in front of the building and stepped out that Y/N realised what Charles meant.

Alex Summers stood facing her from the driver's door, smiling smoothly at her as he pulled off his aviators. 'Hey, princess,' he said, his tone somewhere between his usual swagger and pure relief.

Y/N flew down the front steps and over to him. He held his arms out expecting a hug, but all Y/N saw was red as she lined up to slap him square across his face. The sound was crisp and cut through the air, silencing even the birds.

Alex was stunned as he turned back to her confused. 'What the heck was that for?'

'How long have you been home' Y/N asked, ignoring him.

'Um, like, a month? I don't really know-'

'And you didn't call me? Let me know you were okay?'

'I was kind of busy consoling my family since I've been gone for like six years,' he argued, rubbing his cheek. 'And you seemed to be busy too. You know, saving the world and all.'

Y/N couldn't argue with that, but she still wanted to be mad at him. He had her all worried for nothing. 'You still could've called me.'

'I'm here now, aren't I?' He reached a hand out to clasp hers and she allowed him to puller her closer with it. 'Trust me, there wasn't a day that I didn't think of you, wishing I was back here with you. I'm sorry if I made you worry.'

His genuine tone softened her anger until it was nothing but relief and joy at seeing him. She pressed her forehead against his own and smiled. 'Like you said: you're here now, right?'

With that, the two connected in a long awaited kiss that reflected all their longing and love for one another. They were so enthralled with one another that they didn't hear a word of Charles' and Hank's conversation happening just a few steps away.

'Wow,' Hank said, trying not look at his long-time friends making out in front of him. 'Alex and Y/N. Not going to lie, did not see that coming.'

'Oh, I did,' Charles said smugly, though his eyes reflected the happiness he had for his close friends. 'From the moment they met, I knew they were inevitable. You didn't need to be a psychic to see that coming.'

1978 - Alex and Y/N's house

Y/N sighed as she unlocked the front door to her and Alex's house. They'd moved in together about a year ago, hating constantly going between the school and Alex's old apartment. He hadn't returned as a teacher to the school after the army as she had, and so found a place of his own. But one night they'd both realised they didn't want to keep figuring out whose place they would spend the night at. They wanted a place for themselves, and the rest was history.

Y/N kicked off her sneakers, grateful for the relief she felt as she walked into the lounge room where her feet sunk into the carpet. Alex seemed to have had an early mark from his office with the U.S. Military, as he was in the kitchen cooking. His soldier days were thankfully over, but he'd been promoted to a desk job which didn't really suit him but it paid well and he could actually try and make a difference from there. For both humans and mutants enlisted into the army.

'Hey, princess,' he said, stirring up some sauce that had Y/N almost drooling for.

'Hey, baby,' she said tiredly as she came up behind him and cuddled him, breathing out a content sigh as she attempted to meld into his back.

'Wow,' he said with a chuckle, 'no asshole today? You've definitely had a bad day.'

'Don't push it,' Y/N warned, but it was an empty threat as she didn't move a muscle. Alex was always so warm, and now that it was winter she craved his presence even more. 'You didn't have to make dinner.'

'I know,' he said nonchalantly, continuing to stir the delicious smelling sauce. 'But I figured if you weren't home by five, you'd had a hard day.'

'Aw,' Y/N cooed, squeezing his torso slightly tighter. 'Alex Summers, you can be so thoughtful, you know that?'

'Besides,' he said, finally putting the sauce bowl down and turning in Y/N's arms to face her, a cheeky smile on his lips, 'you take forever to cook and I want to eat at some point tonight.'

Y/N's smile dropped. 'I take it back. You are a jerk.'

'That's nothing new,' he said as he pulled her in for a loving kiss. Y/N really enjoyed their more fervent kisses - the ones that left her breathless and hungry for more because she just couldn't get enough of him. But this - the gentleness, the care, the love transferred between their lips - calmed and grounded her. Reminded her she was at the best place in the world: home.

'Why don't you go have a shower, relax, and I'll have dinner ready by the time you come out?' Alex asked after they ended their kiss, rubbing his hands up and down her arms in comfort.

Y/N shook her head. 'While that does sound like a wonderful time, I'd rather help you cook the rest of dinner.'

'You sure? It's nothing special or hard. I can handle it-'

'Alex,' she interrupted, heading for the drawer with all their aprons, 'I have spent all day at a desk or in a classroom looking at paperwork and marking grades. I want to help. I want to spend time with you. It's treat enough that you're home before the sun sets.'

She tied her apron up, rolled up the sleeves of her dress shirt and reached into the pantry 'Now, let's get this pasta cooking.'

The rest of the night was relaxed, with Alex and Y/N chatting about anything and everything while they cooked. They continued chatting during dinner, and Y/N laughed at Alex spilling red pasta sauce all over his cream shirt. Before they knew it, bed time had fallen upon them.

Y/N was just brushing her teeth as she was explaining how her day was going to go tomorrow. 'Now remember, I'm going on an excursion with the kids tomorrow to the national history museum so I won't be home until six, I think.'

When Alex didn't answer, Y/N asked, 'Alex? Did you hear me?' He didn't answer again, and so Y/N spit out the toothpaste and hurried back into their bedroom.

'Alex? Why aren't you-'

Y/N's heart almost stopped as she was met with Alex Summers on one knee, holding a delicate but beautiful ring up to Y/N.

'Believe me when I say I had a different plan in mind for this,' he said, eyes hopeful and the twitches of a fearful smile pulling at his lips. 'I had it all planned out and was going to do it when we go on our trip next month. But those places don't mean anything to us: here does. In our home.'

To Y/N's surprise, Alex's eyes welled up with tears as he continued his speech. 'Tonight was perfect, and I realised... that I want to have a night like tonight every night. You are too good for me, Y/N. I can be a jerk and an asshole and self-centred and rash - but you take it all in stride and put me in my place and I thank you for that.

'I love you, Y/N. And I want to love you - fight with and for you, explore with you, live with you - for the rest of my life. So, Y/N L/N... will you marry me?'

Alex never cried, so seeing him get emotional opened the floodgates in Y/N's own tear ducts. Y/N clasped her mouth as both sobs and joyous laughter escaped her, leaving her a blubbering mess.

Y/N wiped away her tears and flashed Alex the most loving smile she could manage. 'What do you think? Of course I will marry you, Alex Summers.'

Alex breathed a sigh of relief and his tears of joy finally fell as he stood up and embraced Y/N. Y/N couldn't hold him any tighter it seemed, couldn't pull him close enough even when there was no space left to close between them. But finally they parted and Alex slipped the delicate ring onto Y/N's finger. It shimmered in the low lamp light coming from their bedside and Y/N couldn't imagine anything more fitting.

'It's beautiful, Alex,' Y/N said, still sniffling.

'Anything for my princess,' he muttered into her hair as he held her close.

Y/N laughed into his chest before craning her neck back to look up at him. 'You're locked in now, asshole. No take-backsies.'

Alex laughed. 'Don't you know?' he asked, leaning down to capture her lips in another loving kiss. '...I was always in it for the long run,' he said after breaking away, warm breath fanning across Y/N's cool skin.

1983 - X Mansion

Y/N was just leaving her classroom when four students came flying by.

'Hey!' Y/N called out, and the four students stopped.

'Sorry, Mrs. Summers,' Jubilee said, a bashful expression on her face.

Y/N eyed who else was with Jubilee. Jean Grey, and the two new students: Kurt Wagner and her brother-in-law Scott Summers.

Y/N placed her free hand on her hips as she looked at them skeptically. 'And where are the four of you off to in such a hurry at this time of day?' she asked, noting how it was the middle of the day.

'Uh...' Jean started, looking unsure.

'We were just off to the library,' Scott interjected, his voice confident and full of bravado. 'To study.'

Y/N narrowed her eyes on Scott. Scott was not the studious kind, and usually she could read Scott like a book. But since his mutation kicked in and he'd had to wear the ruby quartz glasses, it was hard to tell what he was truly thinking.

'That's right!' Kurt added over-enthusiastically, and the others nodded in agreement.

Based on their adamant responses, Y/N knew something was up. But she released a sigh and waved them off. 'Okay, but don't study too hard then.'

'Yes, Mrs. Summers,' Jean and Jubilee said together, then grabbed Kurt and headed around the corner and out of sight.

Scott was just about to do the same when Y/N called out to him. 'Hey, Scott.' He stopped and turned, his lips pulled down in a frown, possibly worried that he'd been caught out. But she just smiled and said, 'It's nice to see you've made some friends already.'

Relief and genuine appreciation split his lips into a smile. 'Yeah. Me too,' he said, then he took off after the others, their laughter bouncing off the walls of the old mansion.

It genuinely made Y/N happy to see Scott making friends. He was usually the reserved type, making small rebellions but certainly not as loud as his older brother. He used to be the kid that got picked on at school, so to see him actively engaging with other kids was promising.

It was the changing period between classes and so all the students were milling about the halls as Y/N made her way down the steps to the front foyer. She had a free period so she was in no hurry.

What she didn't expect to see, once the children had cleared, was Hank and Raven of all people standing together in the foyer.

'Raven?' Y/N said in disbelief, a baffled smile adorning her lips.

Raven and Hank seemed to have been engaged in a serious discussion, but she returned Y/N's smile and opened her arms for an embrace. 'Hey, Y/N.'

Y/N accepted the offer and embraced her long-time friend tightly. 'Oh, it is so good to see you, Raven. It has been too long.'

'Yeah, since seventy-three I believe.' The two women pulled apart but held hands. Raven ran her fingers over Y/N's hands and her fqace changed to shock and happy surprise. 'Oh my God, you got married?!' she exclaimed, bringing Y/N's left hand up to inspect the delicate diamond.

'Yeah. Alex and I just celebrated five years,' Y/N said, her words taking on a sad tone.

'Five years...' Raven dropped Y/N's hand, a sad expression on her face. It was then Y/N recognised that Raven was in the skin she'd worn for years to fit in with society, not her natural blue. There was slight betrayal and hurt on Raven's face too.

'We tried finding you, Raven,' Y/N said, grasping tight to her friend's hands. 'I wanted you there. Truly. You just... Well, since D.C. I imagine you've been busy.'

Raven's betrayal morphed into shame. 'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I would've loved to have been there. For you.'

Y/N knew she meant it, and so she flashed Raven a smile and said, 'It doesn't matter now, though. You're here now, and it is so good to see you. Speaking of which, why are you here?'

'I came to speak with Charles about Erik,' Raven admitted, the two women finally releasing each other's hands. 'I think he's in some trouble.'

'I was just telling her Charles and Alex were out,' Hank added.

'Well, they should be back in the next hour, I think,' Y/N said. 'Why don't we wait in Charles' office until then.'

As they all waited, Y/N and Raven decided to catch up. They discussed everything from the school to Raven's personal missions as a vigilante for mutants to Y/N and Alex's marriage.

'I must admit, I always knew you two would end up together,' Raven commented, a knowing and cheeky smile on her face.

'No you didn't,' Y/N argued. 'Did you even know Alex and I back then? We fought like cats and dogs!'

'Still do, depending on the day,' Hank muttered as he drank his tea.

Y/N flashed him a hard glare before turning back to Raven.

'Oh come on, it was practically inevitable you two would end up together,' Raven countered, laughter dancing on her words. 'But I'm happy to hear you two are happy. You're some of my oldest friends and you deserve happiness.'

'Thank you, Raven,' Y/N said softly.

'So, how many do you have?'

Y/N raised an eyebrow in confusion. 'How many what?'

'Kids. I can only assume you've got an army waiting for you at home...' Raven quietened as she noticed Y/N's demeanour change. Her smile dropped and she sunk back into the couch more. 'Did I say something wrong?'

Y/N shook her head and tried smiling for her friend, but tears welled in her eyes. 'No, you didn't. It's just... Alex and I found out we can't have children about a month ago.'

'Oh, Y/N.' Raven didn't know what to say or do. She just reached a hand out was a grateful that Y/N took it for support.

'We've been trying since we got married,' Y/N explained, wiping the tears away before they even fell. 'When nothing was happening, we decided to go see a specialist. But I guess even being a mutant doesn't make us immune to human genetic failure.'

She gestured to the closed doors that led from Charles' office to the school beyond 'Besides,' Y/N continued fondly, 'I have hundreds of kids already to deal with,. Children of my own would just complicate that probably.'

Raven just hummed in agreement, but said nothing more. No doubt she could sense or even see Y/N only meant half of what she said. Y/N truly loved each and every kid at the school, but it broke her heart to know she'd never have a daughter or son that had her eyes or Alex's smile, her wit or Alex's bravery.

Before they could dwell on the sad matter any further, the doors to the office opened and in came Charles, Alex, and someone Y/N thought she'd never see ever again.

'Moira?' Raven said as the three entered the room, standing to her feet in shock.

'Raven?' Charles asked.

'I'm sorry, have we met before?" Moira asked, cluelessly smiling at Raven, then Y/N and Hank.

Soon enough, Raven and Charles needed to converse privately and so Y/N, Alex, Hank, and Moira stood in the foyer awaiting their decision. Hank took one for the team and took Moira for a bit of a tour around the school while Y/N and Alex stayed in the foyer to talk.

'Never thought I'd see you step inside these halls during school hours again,' Y/N said cheekily.

'My brother and Charles are the exceptions,' he said, and when Y/N pouted he added quickly, 'and of course my beautiful wife.'

'Hmmm, sure asshole,' she said, before allowing him to kiss her briefly.

'You know you can be so mean sometimes,' he said as he pulled away.

'That's why you love me though, right?' she asked.

'Hmmm, sure princess,' he mirrored her earlier comment, earning a light slap to his shoulder as they devolved into laughter.

'So, how's Scott doing?' Alex asked, genuinely concerned for his little brother.

'Don't worry,' Y/N reassured him. 'He's fitting in just fine. Although he said he was going to study just before...'

'Oh, he's definitely doing something he shouldn't be then,' Alex said.

After a moment of silence, Y/N said, 'I was talking to Raven just before... about us not being able to have children.'

The topic always made Alex more protective, and so he placed his hands on her arms and started gently rubbing them up and down slowly. 'You okay?'

'Yeah I'm fine, but it did get me thinking... why don't we look at adopting?'

Alex looked halfway between shocked and happy when she said it. 'Are you sure?'

Y/N nodded. 'Why not? There are so many kids in this world that have no homes, no families. We could be that for them.'

Alex smiled brighter than he ever had as he embraced her so hard he lifted her off her feet with joy. 'I love you,' he said as he finally put her down, then looked at her as if she was the light of his life. 'We're gonna have a family.'

Y/N nodded then pulled him into a short kiss, just as Hank and Moira finally came back to the foyer and Charles' office doors opened. 'Y/N and Hank, you are dismissed from classes for the rest of the afternoon,' he said. 'We have to find Erik.'

~~~

It all happened so fast.

Someone hijacked Cerebro and controlled Charles momentarily, taking over the world for just a split second. Raven, Hank, and Y/N were finally able to wrench Charles free of the power and then Charles commanded Alex to destroy Cerebro.

The incident left the whole group, except for Moira, panting and drained as they exited the flaming room. Charles was unconscious in his chair, giving no signs that he was okay.

Y/N sensed a change in the area's energy force, and looked down the hallway to where a portal was opening. 'Uh, guys...'

The rest of the group followed her gaze to where five figures stepped out of the portal, one notably being an old friend.

'Erik,' Raven said softly, realisation dawning on her face too late. He was not here to be friendly.

Before anyone could react, Erik reached out to Charles' chair and brought him in to their portal which was firing up again.

'Charles!' Raven called out.

The winged figure protected Charles as the others stepped in front of him as barriers. Not that any of Y/N's group chased after them - wait, one person did.

'Alex, no!' Y/N said as her husband ran past her. When he didn't listen, she chased after him.

'Alex!' Hank called out behind them.

'Hey, asshole!' Alex called out to the blue man standing out the front of Erik's group.

The portal reopened around Erik, Charles and the other figures, the blue man stepping out in front to say, 'All will be revealed my child.' His voice was haunting, echoing all around them in a way that emanated power. He was not a standard level mutant.

But Alex still ran, and Y/n sensed he was charging up to fight.

'Alex, don't!' Y/N was almost there, could reach him in another few steps.

'Wait!' Hank called out, but Alex was lining up, red plasma already bursting from his chest. 'Stop!'

Y/N finally realised Hank's fear. While she was trying to stop Alex from chasing after mutant much stronger than all in the room, Hank was more concerned as to what was just beyond the doors Erik and Charles stood before.

Y/N's fingers just grazed Alex's shoulder when he let out a powerful plasma blast. But Erik and Charles disappeared into the portal before the blast could reach them, instead allowing it to burn through the metal doors that lead into the jet hangar.

Y/N pulled Alex behind her as the explosion happened. She threw up her hands and conjured a force field that surrounded the entire hangar just as the fire was about to reach her face. The strain was immediate as well as the heat, and Y/N almost crumbled as the explosion bounced and rolled around in the bubble.

'Y/N!' Raven called out, and Y/N felt hands on her arm and shoulder as Alex came into view.

'Baby?' he asked, eyes apologetic and frightened.

'I'm okay,' Y/N managed out, breathing deeply as the strain increased. 'Get everyone out. Now.'

'We can't just leave you here,' Hank argued.

'We won't,' Alex answered. 'I'll stay with her. Let me know when everyone is out.' When Raven and Hank didn't move, Alex said, 'Go!'

Once they'd gone, Y/N said, albeit with a strain, 'You should go, too.'

'I'm not leaving you,' he said, the weight of his hand on her back ever present. 'Hank and Raven can get the kids out themselves.'

'I'm not just talking about the kids.' Y/N managed to tear her gaze from the swirling explosion just beyond her force field to look Alex in the eyes. 'Go find Scott. Make sure he's okay.'

'I trust Hank and Raven,' Alex said.

Y/N's hands shook and so she turned her attention back to the force field. 'Alex, I don't know how much longer I can hold this. And I'd rather you not be here in case-'

'Don't say that.' Alex moved more into her vision so she didn't have to break her concentration. 'I put you in this mess, I will see you through it. You're the toughest person I know, Y/N. If anyone can hold this, it's you.'

Y/N saw on his face he truly meant it, but her hands shook harder now and the fire was pushing against the field more. Y/N swallowed a groan because as much as she didn't agree with Alex, she had to try.

Every second counted.

But every second was torture.

In reality, it was only five minutes before Hank notified Alex that the school had been cleared. But Y/N's vision was starting to spot black and her entire body now shook. Sweat rolled down her face and exhausted tears threatened to spill over.

Alex's phone buzzed and he answered the incoming call. 'The kids are all out,' Hank said, his crackling due to the horrible service of the lower levels. 'We're coming back for you.'

'Don't!' Y/N strangled out, groaning as the strain increased. She was aware of Alex's gaze on her so she turned slightly to look him in the eyes and saw something that she didn't want to see.

Hank kept talking. 'What? No, we're coming back down-'

'It's okay, Hank,' Alex said calmly, his eyes never leaving Y/N. 'Just... keep them safe.'

'Alex, wait what-'

Alex ended the call and Y/N could've screamed with frustration. 'No,' she whispered. 'You're not staying with me.'

'You never planned on getting out of this alive,' Alex stated. 'Did you?'

'I've made my peace,' Y/N explained. 'You need to be here for Scott.'

'You are my wife, Y/N!'

'And he is your brother!' Tears finally spilled as her powers began to wain. 'He is young and scared and he needs his brother so please Alex, go!'

Pain and indecision whirled in Alex's eyes as he looked from her to the doors that would save his life. Y/N couldn't hold on much longer, but she'd make sure he would get out. Tears spilled down his gorgeous face. Even after all this time he still looked as he had when him and Y/N first met, apart from the hair of course.

Resolve and love and apology was on his face as he finally looked back to Y/N, and he said, 'Scott will understand.'

He was really doing this. He was really going to die with her.

'I can't protect us once I let this field down,' she strangled to say, tears and pain and regret threatening to overwhelm her. 'I have nothing left, Alex.'

'You've done enough,' he said gently, then manouvered himself to stand between her arms so he was face to face with her. He cradled her face in his hands then pulled his lips to hers for one final kiss. 'I'm sorry,' he whispered, tears streaming down his face.

'I'm not,' Y/N replied, and despite their situation she smiled as brightly as she could. 'We had a pretty good run, didn't we?'

That finally brought a smile to his face. 'We sure did, princess.' He looked into her eyes, his gaze unwavering and the way he held her was heavenly. 'I love you.'

'I love you,' Y/N answered, then her energy emptied completely and she fell into Alex's arms.

They held each other as fire engulfed them and the mansion exploded, unable to be torn from each other even at Death's door.

1983 - X Mansion, post Apocalypse Battle

Scott Summers stood before two headstones with X's on them that had been put up in the school's courtyard. Both had his last name.

Alex Summers

Havok

1941-1983

Husband, Brother, Friend, Hero

Y/N Summers (neé L/N)

Aura

1942-1983

Wife, Teacher, Friend, Hero

Scott took his glasses off to wipe his tears. He hadn't been able to fully process his loss thanks to Apocalypse, but now that the school was rebuilt and he was back at school, he was more than aware of Alex and Y/N's absence.

He felt a hand slip into his, and he put his glasses back on to find Jean smiling sadly at him. 'I'm so sorry, Scott,' she said, and he didn't need to be a mind reader to know she truly meant it. 'I never met your brother, but Aura - Y/N, spoke often of him and their heroics at our age. He sounded amazing.'

'He was,' Scott said, looking back to his brother's and sister-in-law's graves. 'He was my hero.'

'They both were heroes.'

The two teens turned to find Hank, Raven, and Charles - now bald from the battle - strolling and wheeling into the courtyard respectively. Charles didn't speak again until the three of them reached the teenagers. 'Even as children, I knew they would be heroes. And in a society where mutants weren't trusted, even feared... They saw the best in the world. Always.'

'They gave everything they could to this school,' Hank added, eyes watering behind his glasses as he looked over his friends' graves. 'They were some of the best people I know, even now.' Hank allowed a tear to fall but he laughed. 'Even if your brother was a bit of a dick, sometimes.'

'Only sometimes?' Scott said, and the group laughed and the weight of grief on Scott's shoulders lifted slightly.

When it grew silent once more, Jean said, 'But is this to be our fate? Where we fight for a world that doesn't want us? Is a premature death only inevitable?'

'Death is always inevitable, Jean,' Raven said gently, and walked up to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. 'But if Alex and Y/N proved anything to us all is that it doesn't matter what time we have on this earth; it's what we make of it. While we can, we will fight for a better future. For all of us.'

Jean nodded then turned back to the graves along with everyone else. Resentment and pain and loss roiled within Scott as he looked down at where his brother and sister-in-law rested. 'I wished he hadn't died,' he admitted, because that's all he truly wanted.

'Me too, Scott,' Charles said, wheeling up beside him. 'He loved you very much, though. Always spoke about you - about how you were to do great things with your life. I truly believe that, you know.'

'At least he died doing what he loved,' Scott said as he gestured to the rebuilt school. 'Protecting mutant kind.'

The group was silent for another few minutes, just reflecting on their times with the two people in the ground. Then Hank ushered the two teens back to class, and after sometime Raven left to go teach also.

Charles remained for a while longer, unable to leave his friends that he'd buried, that he'd gotten killed. Some small part of him wished he'd never sought them out to join the X-Men. They could've lived quieter lives, safer lives. But we wouldn't have been happy, Charles could practically hear Y/N say with that hopeful smile of hers, and Charles smiled at the thought.

And besides, if he hadn't recruited the two, Alex and Y/N wouldn't have met. And wouldn't that have been a true disservice to his students to never have witnessed such hope and love.

Or maybe they would have. After all, like he'd said, they'd been inevitable from the start.

And maybe Jean was right; possibly, a mutant's life was to inevitably end prematurely. But Raven was also right.

Charles touched Alex's headstone, then Y/N's, tears pouring down his face. 'Thank you, friends,' he whispered tearfully. 'Rest well. You've earned it.'

As the years went on, and the school took on more students and the gardens grew higher and wilder, Charles sought to personally keep his friends' graves clean and tidy. He told each student the tales of his fallen friends, the ones he was unable to bury as well. He made sure that the First Class of X-Men were not forgotten, and that their dream of a better future lived on in the next generation.

Sometimes, as he grew older, Charles saw a little bit of Alex and Y/N when he saw Scott and Jean. It broke his heart to know that Alex would never see his little brother become an excellent hero such as Alex, or that Alex and Y/N wouldn't grow old alongside him and Hank and Raven.

But their spirit lived on anyway, and maybe that was the inevitability of it all in the end.

#im not crying you are #shut up #i love it when mc dies though #when i read the angst i specifically searched for #alex summers the man you are

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