#had to take a break to bandage it and wait for the pain to pass

[a-random-queer-fanpeep]

Today I was able to confirm my lifelong suspicion that I would greatly enjoy woodcarving, and I received a painful reminder on the dangers of carelessness

[gay-dorito-dust]

I have been binging your work!

I don't know if this breaks your trauma rule or not, but (with the guys of your choosing as long as Ratio is there) how would the guys react to losing reader (they haven't confessed feelings yet) during a mission and thinking they died. Then, the reader reappears a week later bandaged up, but alive. Maybe spouts their confession first? ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

I adore your writing. Thank you!

This is way too fucking long, so be warned. It’s like I rammed 4 mini stories in one but got lost at some point cuz I left this ask to collect dust. Also thanks for enjoying my writing it’s much appreciated. :) 🦦🐿️

Sunday:

The moment he got news that you’ve been assumed dead in the aftermath of a dangerous mission, he looses composure really quickly.

Loosing Robin was one thing but loosing you on top of that was the straw that broke the camels back.

He originally doesn’t believe that you were gone, he refuses to as he practically tears his office to shreds in a fit of anger and grief before forcing himself to regain composure and clean up after his outburst. He needed to in order to keep up the illusion that he was the levelheaded leader The Family needed in these moments of chaos and mistrust.

Even if he himself was breaking down internally alongside everyone else, hellbent on finding the culprit for your death and punishing them so severely that they’d beg for death. He’d avenge you in anyway he could, even if it meant sending out the bloodhound family on a wild goose chase that only ends in dead ends, he would get you justice no matter how it may come.

His heart had died alongside you that day.

So when a week passes and he finally has you back in his arms, all the while being carful with your wounds as his eyes searched you over in a way you weren’t use to.

‘You’re alive.’ He breathes out in relief as he then begins to laugh and rest his head against yours, breathing you in deeply as he relishes in this long awaited moment. ‘Of course you’re alive.’ He mutters.

‘Sunday,’ you began but Sunday was quite to cut you off.

‘Do you know how I felt thinking you were dead? Driving myself insane to prove that you were still alive anyway I could as not to bear the idea of walking through this life without the one person I love so dearly.’ Sunday takes a brief pauses in his monologue, feeling out of breath after having put everything out into the open before continuing. ‘I thought my heart had stopped beating that day and now I have you bad in my arms.’ Sunday then chuckles darkly as he gripped you tighter. ‘I’ll ensure that I’d never have to revisit that part of my life ever again.’

‘Sunday-‘

‘Shhh.’ Sunday cuts you off once more, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he holds you close to his chest, rubbing your back soothingly. ‘Just know that what I do after this, I do out of my love for you.’ He says against your forehead before pressing another kiss there for good measure.

Jing yuan:

Loss wasn’t new to Jing Yuan.

He has experienced it in multiple forms throughout his life, but that didn’t made the news of your death any less painful for the General.

While his mind might’ve made peace with the fact that you were gone, his heart however did not as he would find himself in the places that you often vacated to in moments of stress, or to just be left alone for a while with your thoughts. So to no longer see you in any of those hidden spots -waiting for him to find you like you usually did- only worsened the grief he felt in his heart as he sat himself down and allowed the memories to pass over him in waves.

You were both so happy together and felt a sense of fulfilment that could only be achieved when you were within the other’s presence; A feeling that was uniquely yours and yours alone that could never be replicated, ever. For no one could ever come close to replacing you, nor the companionship you and he had for each other that many assumed would blossom into something more; Jing Yuan also shared the same sentiments as they did, but just as he built the courage to push that boundary between the two of you, you were taken from him before he could utter a single word.

So when a week passes and Jing Yuan found your battered and beaten form in one of your secret spots, back resting against a tree with your eyes closed.

‘Y/n?’ He called out and your eyes opened upon hearing his voice and looking at him with a weak smile. ‘Hey General, miss me?’ You said as you struggled to get up to your feet, only to stumble forward and into Jing Yuan’s chest as his strong yet gentle hands hold you in place.

‘More than you could ever hope to know.’ Jing yuan said as he focused on how you felt beneath his hands, warm and alive.

‘I’m sorry I kept you waiting.’ You muttered against his chest as his warmth made you realised just how tired you were from everything you’ve experienced this last week alone. ‘I never meant to keep you waiting in fear that you’d forget about me if I don’t stay in your life long enough.’ You admit and Jing Yuan instinctively presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, holding you protectively.

‘I could never forget about you my beloved.’ Jing Yuan reassured you as he looked you deep into your eyes. ‘You’ve managed to carve your place within my heart and soul, so much that there isn’t a day where you aren’t all I think about, regardless of whether or not your by my side or far away.’ He finished by pressing a gentle kiss to the gauze on your cheek, chuckling upon seeing your cute attempts of burrowing your face into his chest.

‘How long have you’ve been waiting to say this.’ You asked, thankful that he was the one to admit his feelings first, as you would’ve had a hard time articulating your words as fluidly as he could.

‘For a very long time.’ Jing Yuan replied with a small smile as he then proceeded to lift you into his arms, cuasing you to squeal in surprise, as he made sure to be carful of your wounds and began walking to the nearest medics to make sure your wounds weren’t going to be trouble later on.

Aventurine:

He didn’t know what to think when you were pronounced dead, all Aventurine could feel in that moment was an overwhelming numbness that encased him entirely.

The only light left in his life had been snuffed out, plummeting him into utter and total darkness he had once been well acquainted with until you came along, giving him a reason to keep looking forward despite everything.

You were no longer here to hold onto his left hand before he could even think of hiding it behind his back out of habit, you were no longer here to be his reason, his comfort, his safe place. You were taken away from him unfairly and once again Aventurine found himself asking the same question he has been asking himself for a long time; why everyone was born into this life just to die.

So when a week passes and Aventurine finds himself sat on a bench somewhere, still not dealing well then than he was the week of your assumed passing, lost in his own thoughts when someone took a seat next to him. Aventurine was just about ready to tell them to go away, when he saw just who was sitting next to him; you.

‘I know, I look like shit but you don’t have to look at me like that.’ You spoke upon feeling his eyes gaze upon the gauze on your cheek, then towards the array of bandages that littered the rest of your body.

‘I thought you died.’ He hissed, emotion was heavy in his voice as his eyes became bleary with unshed tears as he felt his breathing become heavy with the reality that you were alive. He didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t in that moment as his mind raced. And it wasn’t until you reached out to grasp his left hand and intertwine your fingers together, squeezing, did everything finally became clear to him.

‘I thought I was too at one point but there was something that kept me from journeying over to the afterlife.’ You admit, looking over at him and smiling sweetly, wanting nothing then to calm his thoughts and reassure him that this wasn’t a dream.

‘And what was that?’ He laughs humourlessly as he stares back at you, wanting to hear what excuses you could come up with for faking being dead for a week. ‘Willpower? Determination?’

‘You Kakavasha.’ You replied straightforwardly and his breath hitched in his throat. You rarely used his actual name unless it was absolutely serious. ‘You were all I thought about as I pushed through my injuries.’ You told him as you continued. ‘Kakavasha is waiting for me was just about all I could think about for a week straight.’ You finished as though you didn’t just confess that he was your soul motivator in staying alive.

‘Really?’ Aventurine said softly, finding it impossible that he could possibly be your reason for anything. ‘Why?’

‘Yes really.’ You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you rested your head against his shoulder. ‘As for why, it’s because I like you more then did let myself admit, but i just wanted you to know incase anything truly bad were to ever happen to me-‘

‘No.’ Aventurine cut you off suddenly, squeezing your hand as though he were afraid. ‘Nothing is going to happen to you, not now. not ever. I just got you back.’ He adds resting his head against your own in a desperate attempt of feeling more of your against him. ‘Just stay with me…please.’ He begs you in a whisper as he nuzzled further into you. ‘and don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. I don’t think I can bear the thought of loosing you again.’

You smiled softly as you just whispered back against the skin of his neck. ‘As long as you don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. I like my crush to be alive and close by even if he can be a pain in my ass sometimes.’

Aventurine chuckles, his heart becoming whole again as he made you cuddle into his side, kissing your head once more as you took this moment to familiarise yourselves with each other. ‘At least I’m a pleasurable pain in the ass.’ He teased and you pinch his side, causing him to flinch, but his smile remained and this time his smile was genuine.

His light has came home.

Ratio:

Fully believed that he’d see you when the mission ended, knowing just how talented and dedicated to the craft you were, and having faith that this would be a measly walk in a park for you.

Only to receive word that you were one of the many who were assumed dead when you weren’t found amongst the living nor the dead.

Veritas tries to remain as levelheaded and logical as possible during this time and continue life as normal. However found himself retracting from everyone else and going none contact, more so specifically with the people you were once associated with, and instead focused heavily on his studies and academics to an unhealthy extent.

A week passes and Veritas feels as though he’s seen a ghost the moment he saw you in his peripheral vision, bandaged and dressed in ripped clothing but still somehow finding it in you to smile.

‘You idiotic Buffon!’ He exclaims as he walks towards you.

‘Well that’s a nice way to greet someone you care about.’ You replied as you readied yourself for a massive rant about how stupid you were and so on, but instead you were held against his chest as he burrows his head into your neck.

‘I thought you died.’ He says in a whisper as he breathed you in. This went against all logic but in that rare moment Veritas didn’t care, you were alive but he still couldn’t let go of the fact that you didn’t tell anyone you were still alive. ‘Why didn’t you tell anyone that you were alive, send a signal, anything.’

You shrugged as you made yourself comfortable in his strong arms. ‘All communications were badly damaged or completely cut off.’ You told him. ‘I was on my own for a long while before finding my way back to you.’

‘Me?’ Veritas asked, pulling away from you. ‘Why not a medial facility for a proper treatment of your wounds? Have you hit your head so hard that common sense had been left on the back burner when making that decision?’

‘I wanted to see you first you dickhead!’ You exclaimed, shutting Veritas up rather quickly with your confession but you didn’t care. ‘is it so wrong of me to let the man I love know that I’m okay? So go ahead and call me an idiot all you like but that won’t change the fact that I felt more fear about not telling you how I truly feel then dying on some stupid mission.’ You finished your rant.

‘You’re insufferable.’ Veritas said after a moment of silence and you couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed at this that you didn’t notice that Veritas has began to close in the distance between the two of you.

You scoffed. ‘Oh sure call me insufferable as if you-‘ Veritas cuts you off by cupping your cheeks and planting a sweet short lived kiss against your lips before pulling away with a smirk.

‘Glad to know that the feelings are reciprocated.’ He says, taking enjoyment of rendering you speechless as he gently guided you to medical, and remaining by your side for the remainder of the day.

[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 20 / epilogue)

masterlist

-

Black trees against a yellow sky at evening time. 

It’s late when you finally reach home. Dark enough to almost be night—a full day longer to return than it took to leave, but then you hadn’t ridden as hard coming back, too sore and sleep-deprived to manage the same pace. Even the meager sleep you got on the road was hardly sufficient.

Then the shape of your house appears on the horizon and you nearly break down in tears. The sight of it fills you with such relief that you nearly lose your balance, your head slumping forward. Too long. Days that felt like weeks, your body and mind weary from the long trek home. Against the gold of the horizon light, it appears like a boat arriving at port. 

You throw yourself off your horse and to the ground before John has even had a chance himself to dismount and come help you down. He stomps over when your foot nearly catches in the stirrup, nostrils flared and mustache twitching with his scowl. 

“Don’t go breaking your leg before I’ve even gotten you home,” he growls when he reaches you, fitting his hand around the nape of your neck and giving it a squeeze. You’d shiver, but your body is too exhausted for your libido to manage more than a half-hearted twitch. Instead you nod, head bobbing like a baby doll. 

John takes the horses to the stables while you clamber up the stairs on wobbly legs, headed straight for your bedroom, passing out the second your head touches the pillow. Your growling stomach will have to be addressed in the morning.

You aren’t conscious for when John comes up to join you, but you swear even in sleep you can sense his presence in the room. Certainly when he curls himself around you, the wall of warmth at your back briefly making your eyes flicker open before sleep claims you again and they slide shut. 

In the morning, you eat a big breakfast before letting John rub a liniment onto your inner thighs and bandage the cuts on your hands and face. The doctor he takes you to see after breakfast for the shoulder that Graves dislocated prescribes bed rest and light stretching for recovery and laudanum for any lingering pain. 

“What did you tell him?” you ask when the two of you head out for a light lunch in town before heading back home. 

“Told him you fell off a horse.” He shrugs. “Not that uncommon around here.”

All you can do is roll your eyes. 

Still, it’s as good an excuse as any. No one questions your story when you tell it to them over the following days, when your shoulder is still too tender for you to move it too vigorously. Only Kate lifts a brow knowingly, all but cornering you for the real story when you finally get a moment alone. 

“That sonuvabitch,” she hisses when you finally break and tell her what happened. 

“It’s fine,” you insist, shushing her. “John… Well, John handled it.”

She nods approvingly, then looks like she might say more before thinking the better of it. Silence falls between the two of you. 

“He—” you pause in the middle of your sentence, unsure of how exactly to say it. “It wasn’t so bad. Telling him, I mean.”

Kate must catch the slight inflection in your voice because she stares at you expectantly, waiting for you to say more. “…I’m happy to hear that.”

You inhale as if gathering your breath to say more, but nothing comes out. You know what it is you want to say, but it’s getting it out that’s the tricky bit. What you want to tell her is that your trust wasn’t misplaced in the end; all of your fears that the truth would shatter the affection and trust that had finally been shown to you after a lifetime of nothing were unfounded, proven ultimately wrong. 

“Was there something else you wanted to add?”

You chew your lower lip. 

“No. Nothing else,” you say in the end. There’ll be a time someday to tell her that her trust wouldn’t be misplaced with John or Kyle either; perhaps that day will come sooner than you expect, but for now it remains on the distant horizon. It’s not your place to lecture or admonish; your place in her life is to offer the same feeling of security and companionship as she’s offered you.  

Today, you loop your arm through hers and join her for lunch. 

In town, people greet you like you never left. Only one person asks you about the man you were walking with the previous day, and Kate covers for you when you stumble over your answer, throat constricting in your panic. There’s no suspicion in the question, but still you anticipate it because life has conditioned you to expect pain as a response to any action or inaction. 

You are surprised when pain doesn’t come this time. But still, you are wary.

When you get home, John fills the tub with hot water for you and lets you wash up on your own while he tends to the horses, the third now unofficially his. You lean your arms over the side of the tub and drift in and out of your daydreams, ears attuned only to the sound of his voice and the owls calling from the trees just beyond the house. Eyes fluttering shut until slipping deeper into the water kicks you back into wakefulness. 

“You falling asleep in there?” he asks when he stomps back inside, the door slamming shut behind him and nearly giving you a heart attack. 

“No,” you deny, discreetly wiping the rheum from the inner corners of your eyes. “Just resting my eyes.”

“Of course,” he snorts. Amused as ever by seemingly anything that comes out of your mouth.

A telegram comes in to the sheriff's office some weeks later asking about a missing bounty hunter, and though you pitch forward in your chair when John tells you this, he’s quick to remind you that as far as anyone else knows, Graves moved on after his first visit a month or so back. 

It takes time to reassure you, but slowly your hands unclench from the edge of your seat. 

Still, you make yourself scarce for a week after that. It takes some time for you to feel safe again. You spend those first few days after hearing about the telegram constantly looking over your shoulder, plagued by the worry that you’ll be found out. Sharing your worries with John doesn’t go a long way towards alleviating them because his confidence never wavers. It’s almost infuriating. 

“Would it kill you to just pretend?” you huff, cracking an egg into the skillet. 

“Nobody’s gonna come looking for him here. ‘Far as anyone knows, he made his way west a long time ago,” he says, dismissing your concerns while clipping his fingernails at the kitchen table. You scrunch up your nose when you glance over your shoulder.

“You better not think I’m sweeping those up.”

He barks out a laugh at that, shaking his head at the same time. 

True to his word, the front door stays shut. No one comes knocking looking for an errant bounty hunter. Perhaps that is a lesson that you can take away from all of this—that there is no reward for isolating oneself. Your safety has only ever been assured in community, in putting your trust in others and safeguarding their secrets in turn. Only love has ever held out its arms for you to fall into. 

And now the days pass like clouds in the sky. 

Tranquility hovers on the periphery of your life with every intention of calling out your name. It’s waiting for you with open arms. 

In the evenings, John takes you upstairs to the bedroom and pries you open enough to fit himself in. His mouth blazes a trail across your body, sucking your nipples until they’re beaded, wetting his beard with the essence of your pleasure, and bringing you to the brink of completion time and again before pushing you over. 

After a while, he leaves a piece of himself behind. 

Weeks pass and the seasons change. The changes you notice in your body are physical as well as emotional. At some point since coming home, you must have started to unwind. Shoulders loosening up, knots melting down your back. Is it just you, or does the air smell fresher too? 

You pin the laundry up on the clothesline and wait for your husband to come home. The sun sets earlier these days with autumn just around the corner. Already the leaves have begun to redden and brown, some breaking off from the branches altogether and floating to the ground where you know eventually they’ll rot and dissolve into the earth, starting the cycle of death and rebirth all over again. 

Winter is fast approaching and you know this one will be tough with a little one on the way. You’ve already started preparing for the winter months—canning and storing corn and potatoes and other root vegetables harvested from your garden, making preserves from the fruits of autumn—apples and pears sealed in jars of thick syrup—and filling the cellar with barrels of salted and cured meats. In town, you visit the seamstress for clothes of thicker material and leave with an armful of wool flannel petticoats, fur-trimmed bonnets, and corsets of a heavier cotton coutil. 

You rest a hand on your belly as you stare off into the distant mountains. Even the sky darkens earlier these days. When all of the laundry is pinned on the line, you pick up the wicker basket resting by your feet and bring it back inside, shuffling into the kitchen to get started on supper. 

There’s still much that needs to be done before winter arrives. Firewood to be chopped, furs and blankets to be hung on the walls, the fireplace to be swept, and more. Enough to keep you busy and your mind occupied when you aren’t bent over a book because that’s also your reality these days. The librarian in town now knows you by name and knows to set aside a few books a week for you to pick up when you pass by with Kate. 

You don’t think much of the knock at the door at first, absent-mindedly thinking that it must be a neighbor come to visit. Only when you open the door to an unfamiliar face do you pause. 

It’s a woman, not too dissimilar in looks from you. A bit taller, but otherwise if someone were to describe you from looks alone, they might be tempted to use the same words for either of you. She stands on your porch with a suitcase held by her side, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead from the short trip from town. She dabs her forehead lightly with a handkerchief before pocketing it again.

“Hello there,” she greets, a bright smile on her face. “I’m looking for John Price. I was told he lives here?”

For a moment, all you can do is stare at her nonplussed, not understanding why a strange woman might be at your door asking for your husband in such a familiar way. It takes a moment for it to sink in. Then the light goes on and your confusion shifts to disbelief with a twinge of rage. 

“We’re engaged to be married,” the other woman hurries to explain, taking a step closer, foot wedged in the door almost as if intending to barge right in. 

Her gall nearly makes you lose your temper. Months ago, you might’ve welcomed her arrival, eager to prove to John that you weren’t the woman that he mistook you for so that you could be on your merry way. But that time has long since passed. There isn’t anywhere else in the world you’d rather be than here. You’ve put roots down, entrenched yourself in every way.

Your lips pull into a hard line, face set in stone. “You must be mistaken. He’s already married.”

She blinks, uncomprehending. “That’s…—are you sure? We’ve been corresponding. I know I’m a few months late, but I was held up back in—”

You cut her off by sticking out your hand, topaz ring shining bright on your third finger. “I’m sure. But thank you for stopping by; I’ll let John know you send your apologies.”

And with that, you shove her foot out with yours and shut the door on her face. On another day, you’ll allow yourself to feel guilty for your rudeness; for now, this is your happy ending to enjoy. 

And savor it, you will.

[scarletwinterxx]

chase the cut - jeon wonwoo imagine

hello~ i've been wanting to write a med au for so long, i tried my best here so i hope you like it!🤍

alsooo i opened an acc on x. you can follow me there, my un there niniramyeonie 😊🌻

for my other svt fics, check them here

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You bolt out of the room like your life depends on it.

Behind you, heavy footsteps follow, growing louder with each second. "Come back here!" Wonwoo’s usually calm voice has a sharp edge, but you don’t dare slow down

"It’s just a scratch!" you yell over your shoulder

"A scratch?!" Wonwoo sounds offended. "You’re a surgeon, and you’re bleeding! Do you hear yourself?"

Mingyu and Seokmin barely react as you sprint past them. Mingyu, sipping his coffee, raises a brow. "What did she do now?"

"She got a cut," Wonwoo answers, still in pursuit

Seokmin blinks. "A cut? We’re literally surrounded by scalpels and needles every day—why is he freaking out?"

You duck behind a chair, panting. "Because he’s a pediatric surgeon," you whisper dramatically. "He deals with tiny humans, not full-grown surgeons with minor injuries!"

Wonwoo rounds the corner, eyes locked on you. "You. Sit. Down."

Mingyu, ever the agent of chaos, casually blocks your escape route. "Just let him patch you up. Or keep running—I’m entertained either way."

Seokmin grins. "I say we take bets. Five bucks says he tackles her."

You glare at them. "Some friends you are."

Wonwoo takes a step forward, and you take a step back. It’s a ridiculous standoff in the middle of the hospital lounge.

"Do not make me chase you around the hospital," he warns.

You make a break for it. Seokmin and Mingyu laugh as Wonwoo groans and sprints after you. He catches you in less than five seconds. He’s faster than he looks, and before you can dodge, an arm wraps around your waist, effectively trapping you.

"Gotcha," he mutters, his breath warm against your ear

You squirm uselessly. "This is unfair! You have long legs!"

"You have terrible decision-making skills," he counters, steering you toward the nearest chair with ease. Seokmin and Mingyu watch like it’s their favorite reality show, Mingyu even grabbing a snack.

Wonwoo lets go just long enough to grab the antiseptic wipes, and that’s when the real panic sets in.

"Wait, wait, wait—just let me mentally prepare—"

"You had plenty of time to do that while you were running," he deadpans

The moment the antiseptic-soaked wipe touches your skin, you jolt like you’ve been electrocuted. "Ow, ow, OW—"

Wonwoo sighs. "You literally cut people open for a living, and you’re whining over this?"

Seokmin snickers. "Zero pain tolerance. It’s honestly embarrassing."

Mingyu nods sagely. "Every time she gets a paper cut, she acts like she’s been stabbed."

You glare at them through watery eyes. "This hurts—"

"It stings," Wonwoo corrects, holding your wrist firmly as you try to pull away. "Stay still before you actually make it worse."

You groan dramatically, but Wonwoo, ever patient, finishes patching you up despite your flinching and whining. When he’s done, he presses the bandage down with a little more force than necessary, just to be petty.

"There. All better," he says, finally letting go.

You cradle your injured hand and pout. "You’re mean."

Wonwoo exhales, exasperated. Then, softer, "You should be more careful." 

For a second, something unreadable passes between you. Then Seokmin ruins it. "So, who owes me five bucks? I said he’d tackle her, but technically, it was more of a grab—"

"Pay up, Seokmin," Mingyu smirks. "A catch is a catch."

You groan, while Wonwoo just shakes his head, rubbing his temples like he regrets ever being friends with you three.

As soon as Wonwoo walks out, probably to regain some of his sanity before starting his rounds, you finally relax. Big mistake because the moment the door clicks shut behind him, you feel it—the shift in atmosphere. You don’t even have to look up to know that Mingyu and Seokmin are staring at you with that look. The one that spells trouble.

Seokmin grins. "Sooo…"

Mingyu wiggles his eyebrows. "Are you two dating, or is Wonwoo just your personal on-call nurse?"

You groan. "Oh my god, not this again."

"Look, I’m just saying," Seokmin continues, leaning back like he has all the time in the world, "Wonwoo doesn’t act like that with anyone else."

"Yeah, I mean, I literally saw him step over a crying intern last week," Mingyu adds. "But the second you get a tiny little cut—"

"A painful cut," you interject

"—he’s running after you like you just lost a limb," Mingyu finishes, ignoring you

You roll your eyes. "He’s just like that."

Seokmin scoffs. "No, he’s not."

Mingyu hums. "Do you ever see him chase me down when I get hurt?"

"You get hurt on purpose for attention," you deadpan.

"Fair," Mingyu concedes. "But still. Wonwoo’s different with you."

You shake your head, standing up. "Whatever. I have patients to see."

As you reach for the door, Seokmin calls out, "Hey, don’t run too fast—wouldn’t want to scrape your knee. Wonwoo might carry you to the ER next time." Mingyu cackles as you slam the door on your way out.

It’s way past midnight—closer to 3 AM, when Wonwoo finally walks into the on-call room. His hair is slightly disheveled, white coat draped over his arm, and dark circles under his eyes deeper than before. It’s been a brutal shift.

Seokmin, who’s sitting at one of the desks, barely acknowledges his entrance, too focused on some patient charts. But Wonwoo doesn’t need to say anything. He just walks over to the bunk beds, takes one look at Mingyu—who’s sprawled out, snoring on the bottom bunk—and wordlessly yanks him off. With a loud thud, Mingyu hits the floor.

"Huh—?!" Mingyu startles awake, flailing like a fish out of water. "What the—?!"

"Get up," Wonwoo says flatly.

Mingyu groans dramatically, rubbing his eyes. "Dude, what is your problem—"

Wonwoo ignores him, already turning toward you. You’re curled up awkwardly on the couch, using a rolled-up hoodie as a pillow, arms folded in a way that guarantees you’ll wake up with at least three different cramps.

Wonwoo sighs. Then, in a tone much softer than the one he used on Mingyu, he murmurs, "Get in the bed."

You don’t stir at first, still half-asleep, but then you mumble, "‘M fine here…"

Wonwoo doesn’t buy it. "You’ll complain about back pain tomorrow, and we both know it."

Seokmin finally looks up, watching the exchange with thinly veiled amusement. Mingyu, still half on the floor, blinks at Wonwoo, then at you. Slowly, a knowing smirk creeps onto his face.

"Ohhh," Mingyu hums. "This is why you pulled me off the bed."

Wonwoo doesn’t acknowledge him. Instead, he reaches down and lightly taps your arm. "Come on, just sleep on the bed."

You grumble but finally crack your eyes open, too exhausted to argue. Wonwoo steps back as you groggily push yourself up, stretching. You shuffle toward the now-empty bottom bunk, collapsing onto it with a sigh.

"See? Much better," Wonwoo murmurs, pulling the blanket over you without a second thought.

Mingyu and Seokmin share a look.

"Dude," Mingyu says once Wonwoo turns around. "You could’ve told me to move instead of dragging me off like a sack of potatoes."

"You wouldn’t have moved fast enough," Wonwoo replies.

Seokmin smirks. "So, she gets the ‘gentle tuck-in’ treatment while Mingyu gets yeeted off the bed? Interesting."

Mingyu nods, still rubbing his shoulder. "Yeah, Wonwoo. Interesting."

Wonwoo gives them both an unimpressed look before muttering, "I’m going to sleep," and heading toward the other bunk.

Even with his back turned, he can feel their teasing grins.

You’re pretty sure you’ve ascended to another plane of existence. Or maybe you’ve died and are currently haunting the hospital as a sleep-deprived ghost. Either way, you’ve been awake for way too long over 32 hours, to be exact and your body is done.

Mingyu isn’t faring much better. He’s slumped over the shared office desk, forehead pressed against an open patient chart, lightly snoring. You’re half-sitting, half-melting into the couch, cradling a lukewarm coffee that does nothing to fight the exhaustion clawing at your soul.

And then because life isn’t unfair enough already, Seokmin walks in. Bright-eyed. Energized. Well-rested. The worst kind of person.

"Good morning, besties!" Seokmin chirps, stretching like he didn’t just take a whole day off.

You don’t even look at him. "I will kill you."

"I second that," Mingyu mumbles into his chart.

Seokmin gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. "Why the hostility? I thought you’d be happy to see me!"

"We hate you," Mingyu groans.

"You’re dead to us," you add.

Seokmin grins. "Wow, so much love in this room." He walks over and purposefully ruffles Mingyu’s hair, making him whine in protest. Then he turns to you, poking your cheek. "You look terrible."

"Thanks," you mumble. "Exactly what I needed to hear."

Seokmin flops onto one of the chairs, grinning. "You know what I did yesterday? Slept a full eight hours. Went out for brunch. Touched grass."

Mingyu lifts his head just to glare. "Leave. Now."

Before Seokmin can keep being insufferable, the door opens again. Wonwoo walks in.

And unlike Seokmin who is obnoxiously loud about being well-rested Wonwoo looks just as exhausted as you and Mingyu. His coat is slightly wrinkled, his tie is loosened, and there’s an untouched coffee in his hand that he’s clearly forgotten about. He glances at Seokmin who looks too refreshed to be tolerable then at Mingyu, who is back to pretending to be dead.

Then his gaze lands on you.

You blink at him, eyes heavy with exhaustion. "Hey."

"Hey," Wonwoo murmurs. He steps closer, eyes scanning over you in that way he always does when he’s subtly checking if you’re okay.

"Did you sleep?" he asks.

You let out a weak, humorless laugh. "Did you?"

Wonwoo doesn’t answer. Instead, he sets his coffee down and sighs, running a hand through his hair.

Seokmin—who has been watching the whole thing like a spectator at a soap opera—leans back with a smirk. "Wow, this is so interesting."

Mingyu groans, flopping back onto the desk. "Not now, Seokmin. I’m too tired for this."

Wonwoo ignores them both. He looks at you again, eyes softer now. "Eat something and get some rest."

"You too," you mumble, already sinking further into the couch.

Wonwoo exhales through his nose, shaking his head. "You’re impossible."

Seokmin wiggles his eyebrows. "Ohhh, this is fun."

"You know what else is fun?" You finally turn your head to glare at Seokmin. "Murder."

Wonwoo just sighs again and walks over to the bunk beds, mumbling something about how all of you are hopeless. Mingyu groans like he’s been personally attacked when his pager starts beeping. He doesn’t even look at it just slams his forehead against the desk.

"No. No, no, no. I reject this," he mumbles against the wood.

You barely have the energy to process the noise until of course yours goes off too. You and Mingyu make eye contact, equally dead inside.

Seokmin, the only one without a pager going off, grins. "Wow. Couldn’t be me."

"I will end you," you mutter, already reaching for your coat.

Wonwoo watches silently as Mingyu sluggishly gets up, flipping his pager over to check the message. He sighs. "ER’s a mess. Multiple traumas incoming."

You check yours, blinking slowly as the words process in your sleep-deprived brain. "OR needs backup. Guess I’m heading there."

Mingyu looks at you, eyes drooping. "Want to switch? I don’t want to talk to families."

"Absolutely not."

Mingyu pouts but doesn’t argue. He drags himself to his feet, rubbing his face aggressively like that’ll give him the will to live.

Seokmin claps his hands together, looking way too cheerful. "Well, have fun, kids! I’ll be here. Rested. Thriving."

Mingyu flips him off on the way out.

You barely register Wonwoo standing beside you until he tugs at your sleeve. When you look up, he’s frowning slightly.

"You sure you’re okay?" he asks, voice quieter now.

You exhale. "No, but I don’t have a choice."

Wonwoo’s frown deepens like he wants to say something else, but before he can, a voice crackles over the intercom calling for additional surgeons.

You sigh, giving him a tired half-smile. "See you later."

Wonwoo watches as you head out, his jaw tightening.

Seokmin hums as the door closes behind you. "You know," he says, stretching out on the chair, "for someone who refuses to admit his feelings, you really don’t do a good job of hiding them."

Wonwoo shoots him a glare, but Seokmin just grins.

A few more hours later, Wonwoo rubs at his eyes as he shrugs on his coat, his shift finally over. He grabs his bag from the office, shoulders aching from exhaustion. Just as he’s about to leave, the door swings open, and Mingyu stumbles in, looking like he’s barely holding himself together.

"ER was hell," Mingyu groans, dropping onto the couch with a loud thud. "I think I aged five years."

"You already look thirty," Wonwoo says, deadpan.

Mingyu glares at him, too tired to argue. Instead, he waves a lazy hand. 

Then Wonwoo asks "Where’s she? OR still has her hostage?"

The other doctor nods "She hasn’t come back yet. She’s probably running on caffeine and spite at this point."

Wonwoo hesitates for a second before speaking. "Make sure she eats and gets some rest when she’s done."

Mingyu cracks one eye open, a slow smirk creeping onto his face. "You like her."

Wonwoo stares at him blankly. "Make sure she eats, Mingyu."

"You like her," Mingyu repeats, grinning now. Wonwoo doesn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, he slings his bag over his shoulder and heads for the door.

"Hey, where are you going?" Mingyu calls after him.

"Home," Wonwoo mutters.

"Liar!" Mingyu shouts, but Wonwoo is already gone.

What feels like hours to Mingyu before you entered the room. You trudge into the on-call room, every bone in your body protesting. Your scrub top is slightly wrinkled, your hair is a mess, and you’re running on nothing but sheer willpower at this point.

Mingyu is already knocked out on the bottom bunk, snoring lightly. You barely spare him a glance before collapsing onto the couch.

That’s when you notice it.

On the small coffee table, there’s a neatly packed meal. Your favorite.

You blink, staring at it like it’s a mirage. There’s even a bottle of water next to it, condensation still fresh, like someone just left it there.

Curious, you reach out and poke at the food, half-expecting it to disappear. When it doesn’t, you frown.

"Who…?" you murmur to yourself.

Mingyu shifts on the bed, groaning. "Shut up and eat."

You glance at him. "Did you get this?"

He grunts, eyes still closed. "Nope."

You pause. "Then who—?"

Mingyu cracks one eye open, smirking lazily. "Who do you think?"

That stops you. Your brain, sluggish from exhaustion, takes a moment to process.

Then it clicks.

Wonwoo.

You stare at the food, heart doing something weird in your chest.

Mingyu snickers before rolling over. "Just eat, dumbass."

You don’t argue. But as you take the first bite, you can’t help but think about a certain pediatric surgeon who definitely isn’t as subtle as he thinks he is.

You exhale, shaking your head to yourself. Subtle, Jeon.

Mingyu shifts on the bed again, cracking one eye open. "You’re thinking too hard about this," he mutters, voice thick with sleep.

You stab at your food with your chopsticks. "No, I’m not."

"Yeah, you are."

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite to it. "Go back to sleep."

Mingyu hums lazily, but then he adds, "He does this all the time, you know."

You pause mid-bite. "What?"

Mingyu smirks, barely awake but still committed to being a menace. "Making sure you eat. Checking if you’re okay. Wonwoo’s always been like that… but only with you."

Your stomach does something stupid at that. "That’s not true."

Mingyu chuckles, shifting onto his side. "Sure. Keep telling yourself that."

You open your mouth to argue, but Mingyu’s already passed out again, snoring softly. You sigh, leaning back on the couch. The food is warm, comforting, and frustratingly thoughtful.

You try not to think about it too much. You fail.

It’s another long shift for you.

After parting ways with Seokmin, you make your way to the nurses’ station, hoping to check on some charts before heading back to the on-call room. You’re running on fumes at this point, but the habit of making sure everything is in order before you crash is too strong to ignore.

As you approach, you hear a group of nurses talking in hushed but excited tones. You don’t think much of it until you catch a familiar name.

“Dr. Jeon is so amazing,” one of them gushes, practically sighing. “Did you see him with that little boy’s parents? He was so gentle and reassuring.”

“I know! And he’s always so calm, no matter how bad things get.”

“Not to mention how good he looks in scrubs,” another nurse adds, and they all giggle.

You freeze mid-step, blinking.

Are they seriously—?

“I swear, if he wasn’t so intimidating, I’d totally ask him out.”

“Right? But he’s always so serious. Like, have you ever seen him smile?”

“Only sometimes. But guess what?” The first nurse leans in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “I did see him smile today.”

“No way. When?”

“When he was talking to Dr. Y/N.”

Your stomach drops.

Oh no.

“Oh my god, wait, you’re right! He actually looked... softer?”

“And she’s the only one he ever seems to talk to outside of work stuff.”

Another nurse sighs dramatically. “That’s so unfair. Do you think they’re, like, a thing?”

Your brain short-circuits. You have got to get out of here. Clearing your throat loudly, you step into their line of sight, making them jump. “Hey, uh… I just need to check some charts.”

The group scrambles, trying to look busy, but you can feel their eyes on you, filled with curiosity and knowing looks. Great. Just great.

As you grab the nearest patient file, you swear you hear one of them whisper, “Oh my god, she totally heard us.”

You pretend you didn’t.

You nearly drop the patient file when a rolling chair suddenly appears beside you.

“So,” Seokmin drawls, arms crossed as he lazily spins in the chair, “how do I break it to them that Wonwoo is a total softie for you?”

You glare at him, pressing a hand to your racing heart. “Can you not sneak up on me like that?”

Seokmin grins, completely ignoring your complaint. “Seriously, though. They think he’s this untouchable, brooding genius, but we both know he turns into a golden retriever when it comes to you.”

Your eye twitches. “He does not—”

Seokmin cuts you off with an exaggerated gasp. “Oh my god, you’re in denial.”

You slap his arm with the patient file. “I am not.”

He just laughs, rubbing his arm. “Y/N, I literally watched him rip Mingyu off the bottom bunk just so you could sleep comfortably.”

You open your mouth, then close it. Okay, fine. That was suspiciously caring behavior.

Seokmin smirks, clearly enjoying your inner struggle. “And let’s not forget how he tells Mingyu to make sure you eat and sleep. Or how he leaves food for you. Or how he only ever gets flustered when it involves you.”

You groan, dropping your head onto the counter. “I hate you.”

He pats your back like a supportive older brother. “No, you hate that I’m right.”

Before you can argue, one of the nurses clears her throat loudly, and you glance up to see them all very obviously pretending not to listen.

Seokmin leans in, whispering conspiratorially, “They’re totally listening.”

“I know, Seokmin.”

“Wanna give them a show? Maybe dramatically sigh Wonwoo’s name?”

You grab the patient file again and smack him with it. That’s when another doctor—Dr. Lee from orthopedics—walks up beside you.

"Dr. Y/N," he greets smoothly, offering a smile. "Haven’t seen you around much. Busy saving lives?"

You glance up, slightly caught off guard by the sudden conversation. "Uh, yeah. Something like that."

Dr. Lee leans casually against the counter, watching you with interest. "You should take a break sometime. Maybe grab a coffee?"

Oh. Oh.

Is he… flirting?

You don’t get the chance to react before you hear a loud, exaggerated cough from nearby. Seokmin is sitting just a few feet away, blatantly eavesdropping with zero shame. He’s pretending to look at a chart, but his expression is screaming Oh? What’s this?

You try to ignore him, forcing a polite smile at Dr. Lee. "That’s nice of you, but I’m actually running on negative sleep right now."

Dr. Lee chuckles. "All the more reason to step away for a bit. It’s just coffee, no pressure."

Seokmin lets out another obnoxious cough. "Thirsty, huh?"

You whip your head toward him, glaring. "Do you need medical attention, Seokmin?"

He grins. "Nah, I’m just—" he gestures vaguely between you and Dr. Lee "—observing."

Dr. Lee, bless him, is oblivious to the absolute menace that is Seokmin. "No worries. If you change your mind, let me know," he says with an easy smile before walking off.

The moment he’s gone, Seokmin wheels his chair over at full speed, stopping right beside you.

"So," he drawls. "Are you gonna tell Wonwoo, or should I?"

You groan, dropping your head onto the counter. "Seokmin, I swear to god—"

Of course it didn’t take long. Mingyu and Wonwoo are lounging in the on-call room when the door slams open. Seokmin bursts in, cackling like a maniac, running full speed across the room.

And right behind him. You.

"LEE SEOKMIN, I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

Before he can reach the safety of the bunk beds, you launch yourself at him, nearly tackling him to the ground. Seokmin barely stays on his feet, wheezing through his laughter.

Mingyu, sitting up from the bottom bunk, blinks in confusion. "…Do we want to know?"

Wonwoo, sitting at the small desk, doesn’t even look up. "No."

Seokmin, still trying to escape your grip, gasps between laughs. "I—I was just helping!"

"You were eavesdropping and causing problems on purpose!" you yell, tightening your hold around his waist as he tries to wriggle free.

Mingyu perks up at that. "Ooh, what happened? Spill."

Seokmin dramatically falls onto the couch, bringing you down with him. "Our dear Y/N here was getting flirted with."

Mingyu’s eyebrows shoot up. "What?"

Seokmin grins, panting slightly. "Dr. Lee. Ortho. Real smooth. Asked her to coffee."

Mingyu gasps like this is the most dramatic thing he’s ever heard. "And you tackled him over this?!"

"No, I tackled him because he ran in here to tell you two like a gossiping old lady!" you snap, still half on top of Seokmin, who is not helping by laughing even harder.

Mingyu turns to Wonwoo, who has yet to react. "Wonwoo. Thoughts?"

Wonwoo, still not looking up, simply flips a page in his book.  Seokmin wheezes. You groan, letting your head drop onto the couch.

Mingyu clutches his chest, looking between you and Wonwoo with pure delight. "Oh, this is better than a telenovela."

You push yourself up from where you were half-crushing Seokmin, brushing off your scrubs as you glare at him. Before you can properly scold him for being the absolute worst, Wonwoo finally speaks—completely nonchalant, like this whole thing isn’t ridiculous.

"He asked if you wanted coffee?"

You pause. Seokmin and Mingyu do not. Seokmin looks thrilled. Mingyu straight-up leans forward, eyes sparkling with interest.

You narrow your eyes at Wonwoo. "Why do you sound like that?"

Wonwoo doesn’t even look up from his book. "Like what?"

Mingyu grins. "Yeah, like what, Wonwoo?"

Wonwoo flips a page. "Just asking."

You scoff. "You buy me coffee all the time"

Wonwoo hums. "Exactly."

Your brain short-circuits. "…Wait. What does that mean?*"

Wonwoo, still infuriatingly casual, finally glances up. "Nothing. Just seems unnecessary to get coffee with someone else when you already get it from me."

Seokmin and Mingyu explode.

"OH, THAT'S RICH—"

"DID HE JUST—"

You groan into your hands as they lose their minds. Wonwoo, unbothered, closes his book and stands. "I’m going to get coffee. You want one or not?"

Mingyu is on the floor laughing. Seokmin is gasping for air. And you—you are never going to hear the end of this.

Wonwoo, as unbothered as ever, grabs his ID badge and heads for the door.

Mingyu and Seokmin are still wheezing from his last comment, but you’re too busy processing to move.

He’s almost out when he pauses, tilting his head slightly. "Not coming?"

You cross your arms, still suspicious. "I think I’ll stay here and recover from whatever that was."

Wonwoo shrugs. "Suit yourself."

He steps out. You don’t follow but right before the door swings shut, you shout after him

"Caramel macchiato, extra shot, not too sweet!"

Seokmin and Mingyu stare at you. You stare back.

Then Mingyu loses it, laughing so hard he nearly falls off the bunk. "OH, SO YOU’RE NOT GONNA FOLLOW HIM, BUT YOU’RE STILL MAKING HIM GET YOU COFFEE?"

Seokmin clutches his chest, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "Unbelievable. Absolutely shameless."

You sigh, rubbing your temples. "I hate you both."

Mingyu wipes fake tears. "No, you hate that you’re in too deep and we’re just here to witness it."

It’s your well-deserved day off, which means the hospital is not your problem for once. But unfortunately for Wonwoo, it means he is the problem of the two very nosy individuals stuck with him today.

Mingyu and Seokmin have been relentless since morning, waiting for the perfect opportunity to grill him—and the second they’re all in the on-call room, Seokmin strikes.

"So... you and Y/N."

Wonwoo doesn’t even look up from his tablet. "What about her?"

Mingyu flops onto the couch dramatically. "You know exactly what about her."

Seokmin leans forward, grinning. "You act different around her."

"I don’t."

"Oh, you absolutely do," Mingyu says, propping his chin on his hand. "You let her get away with things you’d never tolerate from us."

Seokmin nods enthusiastically. "Like running away when she has a cut?"

"Or demanding coffee like she’s a queen and you’re her personal barista?" Mingyu adds.

Wonwoo finally glances up. "She doesn’t demand. I offer."

Silence.

Mingyu and Seokmin gasp.

"HE ADMITS IT!" Seokmin nearly topples over. "HE VOLUNTARILY GETS HER COFFEE!"

Wonwoo sighs. "You two have too much free time."

"And you have too much denial," Mingyu shoots back. "Be honest, if she asked for your left kidney, you’d at least consider it."

Seokmin laughs. "He’d have it prepped and ready before she even finished asking."

Wonwoo rubs his temples. "You’re both insufferable."

"And you’re in love," Mingyu sing-songs.

"I am not," Wonwoo deadpans.

Seokmin smirks. "Would you say no if she asked you out?"

Wonwoo doesn’t answer immediately, making the two guys exchange another look.

"Oh my God," Mingyu whispers. "You wouldn’t say no."

"Pack it up, folks, we got him," Seokmin grins. "That’s a wrap."

Meanwhile it’s your day off, technically you were supposed to be having a relaxing day off. No pagers, no surgeries, no Mingyu whining for coffee or Seokmin launching into dramatic gossip. Just a simple grocery run—bread, eggs, maybe even some overpriced snacks if you were feeling indulgent.

But fate, as usual, had other plans.

The sound of screeching tires and the crash of metal on metal jolts you from your thoughts as you step out of the store. A small crowd is already forming near an intersection, the sight of two badly dented cars making your stomach drop.

Then you hear it—panicked voices.

"She’s pregnant!"

Your body moves before your brain fully catches up. Pushing past stunned bystanders, you rush toward the most damaged car, where a man is frantically trying to pry open the passenger door. Inside, a woman—clearly pregnant—clutches her stomach, her face contorted in pain.

"Ma’am, can you hear me?" you ask, voice sharp with urgency.

She gasps, nodding weakly. "M-My baby—"

You glance around. The fire department isn’t here yet, neither are the paramedics. The door is crushed in, and she’s stuck.

Your pulse pounds, but you push the panic aside. Focus.

You turn to the man still struggling with the door. "We need to get her out, but carefully. Do you have something I can use to break the glass?"

He nods shakily, rushing to his car. Meanwhile, you crouch by the woman, speaking in a soothing tone even as your mind races through possible complications.

"You're doing great. Just keep breathing, okay? Help is coming."

She nods again, but her grip on her belly tightens.

You don’t have your scrubs, your hospital badge, or even your gloves. But right now, none of that matters because doctor or not—you have to help her.

You refuse to leave her side. Even as sirens wail in the distance and bystanders are urged to step back, you stay crouched next to the woman, monitoring her breathing, checking for signs of distress.

"You're okay. Just hold on," you murmur, your hand steady on her wrist, feeling the rapid pulse beneath your fingers. The first responders finally arrive, moving quickly to assess the scene. 

A firefighter rushes toward you. "Ma’am, we need to extract her now. You should move back."

"Not until she’s safe," you insist.

They're working on prying the door open when it happens—

An explosion.

A sudden BOOM rocks the area as flames burst from the wreckage. The force knocks you backward, and before you can react, shards of glass and debris fly straight toward you and the pregnant woman.

Your first instinct is to shield her. You duck, arms raised, making sure not a single piece touches her. She screams, but the paramedics quickly cover her with a thick emergency blanket.

You barely notice the sharp stings as glass embeds itself into your arm, your shoulder, a few grazing your cheek. The pain is secondary.

"She’s stable!" one of the EMTs shouts, carefully moving the woman onto a stretcher. "Let’s transport her now!" You exhale in relief, watching as they wheel her toward the ambulance. You step back, feeling a slight dizziness, but shake it off.

"Doctor?" One of the firefighters eyes you carefully.

"I’m fine," you say automatically.

The ambulance ride is a blur of flashing lights and hushed urgency. The paramedics work efficiently, monitoring the pregnant woman’s vitals as you sit beside her, keeping her calm. You press a gauze pad against one of the deeper cuts on your arm, but otherwise, you don’t acknowledge your injuries.

When the ambulance finally arrives at the hospital, the woman is rushed into the ER. You climb out right after them, rolling your stiff shoulders, determined to go check on her—

Only to run straight into Mingyu.

"Hey, we got a—" His usual laid-back tone vanishes the moment his eyes land on you. His brows shoot up. "What the hell happened to you?"

"I’m fine," you say immediately, waving him off. Big mistake.

The moment you move, dizziness washes over you. You stumble slightly, catching yourself against the wall.

Mingyu lunges forward. "Yeah, okay, fine people totally do that."

His eyes sweep over you. Your torn sleeve, the cuts littering your arm, the faint streak of blood on your cheek. "Are you serious right now?"

You sigh. "It’s not that bad—"

"Not that bad?" He gestures wildly at you. "You were supposed to be on your day off, not playing action hero in the middle of the street!"

Mingyu groans, already reaching for his pager. "Seokmin and Wonwoo are going to kill me."

Mingyu barely has time to react before your knees buckle.

"Oh, for—okay, nope, you’re done," he mutters, catching you before you hit the ground. His hands grip your shoulders, guiding you onto a nearby gurney despite your weak protests.

"I—I'm fine," you mumble, though the dizziness makes your head swim. The pain you’ve been stubbornly ignoring is very much making itself known now, sharp and stinging from every cut.

"Uh-huh, tell that to your blood loss," Mingyu huffs as he quickly assesses the wounds. "How are you this dumb?"

You try to glare at him, but it’s half-hearted at best. He just sighs, guiding you to the nearest vacant bed then grabbing antiseptics and bandages from a nearby tray.

"This is gonna sting," he warns, dabbing at the gash on your arm.

The burn makes you flinch. "Mingyu—"

But before you can complain, the door to the ER slams open.

"Where is she?"

Your stomach drops.

Wonwoo stands at the entrance, still in his scrubs, his chest rising and falling like he ran all the way here. His usual composed demeanor is nowhere to be seen.

The moment his eyes land on you—bruised, bloodied, and definitely not fine—his expression shifts into something dark.

"You have got to be kidding me," he mutters, storming over

Mingyu looks up but barely gets a word in before Wonwoo cuts in, voice tight. "What the hell happened?"

You open your mouth, but Mingyu beats you to it. "She was out running errands and decided to become a damn superhero. Got caught in a car explosion or something—"

"It wasn’t an explosion—" you try, but Wonwoo turns his glare on you so fast you shut up.

"You refused to tell anyone you were hurt?" Wonwoo’s voice is low, laced with barely contained frustration. "Do you even know how reckless that is?"

You blink at him, a little caught off guard. Wonwoo gets annoyed, sure—but this? This anger? This fear simmering under his words?

Mingyu shifts awkwardly. "Uh, so, I’ll just—keep cleaning these wounds?"

Wonwoo ignores him.

"You should’ve been treated immediately," he snaps. "You could’ve gone into shock, Y/N. You could’ve—" He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair.

You swallow, voice quieter now. "I had to make sure she was okay."

Wonwoo stares at you for a long moment. His jaw clenches. Then, without another word, he grabs the antiseptic from Mingyu’s hand and kneels down beside you.

"Hey, I was—" Mingyu starts

"You’re taking too long," Wonwoo says flatly, inspecting your arm.

Mingyu throws his hands up. "Oh, I’m the problem? Sure, yeah, okay."

But you don’t pay attention to Mingyu anymore—because Wonwoo is suddenly so close, his fingers gentle as he carefully tends to your wounds. The frustration is still in his eyes, but his touch is steady, precise.

You wince when he presses the gauze against a deeper cut, and his grip instinctively tightens around your wrist. His voice softens, just a fraction.

"I don’t care how capable you are," he mutters. "Don’t ever do that again."

You bite down hard on your lip, willing yourself not to cry. But the antiseptic burns, and the way Wonwoo presses down on your wounds with such precision makes it impossible to ignore the sharp sting.

Your eyes start to prickle. You will not cry. You refuse.

Mingyu, ever the observant one, notices immediately. He leans in slightly and mumbles, “Hey, man, she’s already injured. You’re making her cry.”

Wonwoo freezes.

Your head snaps up. “I am not crying.”

Mingyu raises an eyebrow. “You sure? You kinda look like you’re about to.”

You glare at him. “Shut up.”

Wonwoo sighs, rubbing his temple. “Mingyu, stop talking.”

Mingyu just shrugs, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “I’m just saying, maybe be a little gentler? You know, since you care so much.”

Wonwoo pointedly ignores him, but his grip on your arm loosens just slightly, his movements becoming even more careful. He still looks pissed, but his touch is softer now, like he’s trying to make up for it.

You try to focus on anything other than the fact that your face feels ridiculously warm.

Mingyu stands, stretching with an exaggerated groan. “Alright, I’m gonna check on the woman since someone needs to be useful around here.”

You shoot him a half-hearted glare. “I’m useful.”

“Yeah, yeah, tell that to your blood loss.” He waves you off, throwing Wonwoo a quick glance before walking out, leaving the two of you alone.

The silence that follows is heavy. Wonwoo is still focused on cleaning your wounds, but his jaw is tight, and his movements though gentler now are still a little too precise.

You watch him for a second before speaking. “You’re really mad, huh?”

He exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “No.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Really?”

His grip tightens just slightly before he lets out a quiet, frustrated sigh. “…Yes.”

You shift a little, suddenly feeling weird under his gaze. “It wasn’t that bad.”

Wonwoo finally looks up at you, and the way his eyes darken makes you shut up real quick.

“Not that bad?” he repeats, voice low. “You were in an accident, Y/N. You got caught in a literal explosion.”

You try to brush it off. “It wasn’t that big—”

"You were bleeding and didn't even think to get yourself treated first."

You falter. His shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath, like he’s trying really hard to rein himself in.

“Do you know how many times I’ve seen people come in, thinking they were fine, only to collapse later?” His voice is quieter now, but it’s laced with something heavier. “You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”

You don’t know what to say to that.

Wonwoo’s gaze softens—just barely—before he looks back down, carefully placing the last bandage over your arm. His hands linger for a second, his fingers warm against your skin.

“…Just don’t do that again.” His voice is quieter now, almost pleading. “Please.”

You sniffle, trying to hold it in, but a few tears betray you, slipping down your cheek before you can stop them. Wonwoo notices immediately. His hands, still hovering near your arm, tense.

“Hey—”

You quickly wipe at your face, sniffling again. “I’m fine.” Your voice wobbles, completely betraying you.

Wonwoo exhales through his nose, and before you can react, he’s reaching for the tissue box nearby, wordlessly handing you one.

You take it, mumbling, “Thanks.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, in a small voice, you ask, “Is the woman okay?”

Wonwoo doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he watches you carefully before finally saying, “She’s stable. Mingyu’s checking on her now.”

You nod, squeezing the tissue in your hand. “That’s good.”

Wonwoo still doesn’t look away. His lips press together like he wants to say something else, but in the end, all he does is let out a quiet sigh.

“You should rest,” he says softly. “You lost some of blood, you might feel light headed”

You huff, forcing a weak smile. “You sound like me when I tell my patients that.”

He doesn’t smile back. Instead, he reaches out, hesitates, then gently presses his hand against your head, smoothing down a stray strand of hair. The touch is so light, so careful, that it nearly makes you tear up all over again.

“Then take your own advice for once.”

Before you can even process the warmth of Wonwoo’s touch, the door bursts open.

“OH MY GOD—YOU’RE ALIVE!”

Seokmin practically lunges toward you, arms wide like he’s about to hug-tackle you, but Wonwoo smoothly steps in his way, stopping him with a single hand to his chest.

“Seokmin.” Wonwoo’s voice is flat. “She’s injured.”

Seokmin blinks, then gasps like he’s just realized something. “YOU’RE INJURED?!”

You stare at him, deadpan. “Did you think I was just here for fun?”

Seokmin dramatically grips his chest. “I—I just thought maybe you were being dramatic again! But you actually got hurt?!”

Wonwoo sighs, stepping aside because, at this point, there’s no stopping Seokmin. Sure enough, he leans down, carefully inspecting your bandages like a concerned mother.

“How bad is it? Are you dizzy? Do you need water? Do you need me to spoon-feed you soup?”

You groan, pushing his face away. “I’m fine.”

Seokmin ignores you and turns to Wonwoo. “Doctor, will she survive?”

Wonwoo looks unimpressed. “She lost blood but nothing major. She just needs to rest.”

Seokmin gasps again, gripping your hand. “BE STRONG, MY FRIEND.”

You shove him. “You’re the worst.”

Seokmin sniffs dramatically, wiping an imaginary tear. “If you do die, can I have your favorite pen?”

Wonwoo pinches the bridge of his nose while you grab a pillow and throw it at Seokmin’s face.

After everything that happened, of course Wonwoo refused to let you out of his sight or atleast have someone watching over you while the three guys finish their shift.

After work, the four of you go to a barbeque place you're a regular at.

You’re all starving by the time you reach the restaurant, exhaustion from the day momentarily forgotten at the sight of sizzling meat and bubbling stews.

Mingyu and Seokmin are loud, bickering over who gets to grill first, while you just lean back in your seat, still pretending to sulk.

Wonwoo, sitting beside you, wordlessly places some meat on your plate before you can even lift your chopsticks. Then, as if it’s second nature, he reaches over and rolls up the loose sleeve of your hoodie, neatly tucking it to make sure it doesn’t dip into the sauces.

Mingyu pauses mid-bite, eyes flicking between the two of you.

Seokmin, in the middle of arguing over dipping sauces, suddenly stops and squints.

The most shocking part?

You don’t even react. You just pick up your chopsticks, casually eating the food Wonwoo put on your plate like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

Mingyu slowly puts his chopsticks down. “Okay, hold on.”

Seokmin leans in. “Have you always been like this?”

You blink. “Like what?”

Mingyu gestures vaguely at you and Wonwoo. “That.”

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow, sipping his water. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

Seokmin waves his chopsticks between you two. “You’re basically a married couple and she doesn’t even blink when you baby her.”

You scoff, but before you can argue, Wonwoo speaks first. “She’d spill sauce on herself if I didn’t.”

Mingyu stares. “So you admit you’re babying her.”

Wonwoo shrugs. “She doesn’t complain.”

You shove a piece of meat in your mouth to avoid answering, but your reddening ears don’t go unnoticed. Seokmin and Mingyu exchange knowing looks before grinning at each other.

Oh, they’re never letting this go.

The two of you are crammed into the back of a small van, bumping along a dirt road on the way to the rural clinic. It’s too early, you’re running on barely any sleep, and Mingyu has already decided now is the perfect time to interrogate you.

“So.” He leans back against his seat, arms crossed, looking far too entertained. “You and Wonwoo.”

You groan immediately. “Absolutely not. We’re not doing this.”

Mingyu grins. “Oh, we’re definitely doing this. We have, like, four more hours to go.”

You glare at him, but he just continues. “I mean, come on. He feeds you. He rolls up your sleeves. He practically tracks your movements in the hospital without even trying. And you don’t even react anymore.”

“Maybe I’m just used to it.” You shrug.

Mingyu narrows his eyes. “That’s what I’m saying! You’re used to it. As in, it’s been happening for so long that you don’t even notice.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s just how we are.”

Mingyu scoffs. “Please. If Seokmin tried to do that for you, you’d stab him with your chopsticks.”

You snort. “Yeah, well, Seokmin deserves it.”

Mingyu ignores that. “Just admit it. You like him.”

You pause. Then, after a beat, you say, “Of course I like him. He’s my friend.”

Mingyu groans dramatically, flopping onto your shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

You shove him off. “And you’re annoying.”

He smirks. “I know. But I’m also right.”

You refuse to answer, choosing instead to look out the window. But you can’t shake the way your stomach flips at Mingyu’s words.

Mingyu stretches out his legs, looking way too comfortable for someone who’s supposed to be working. “Alright then, since you’re so sure it’s nothing—explain this to me.”

You sigh. “What now?”

He smirks. “Why hasn’t Wonwoo dated anyone since med school?”

You blink. “What?”

Mingyu tilts his head, looking far too smug. “I mean, Seokmin and I have dated around. You’ve had, like, two almost-relationships. But Wonwoo? Not a single girlfriend. No dates. No flings. No nothing.” He raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t that weird?”

You scoff. “Maybe he’s just not interested.”

Mingyu shakes his head. “Nah. I asked him once, and you know what he said?”

You hesitate. “…What?”

Mingyu grins. “‘I don’t have time for that.’” He leans in, lowering his voice dramatically. “But I think the real reason is that he’s been too busy looking after you.”

You open your mouth to argue, but nothing comes out.

Because now that you think about it… Mingyu’s kind of right.

Wonwoo has never once shown interest in dating. Even during med school, when everyone else was either in relationships or at least going on dates, he never did. He was always around, always steady, always—

You shake your head. No. No way.

Mingyu watches you, eyes glinting. “Oh my god, you’re actually thinking about it.”

You shove him. “Shut up.”

He cackles. “I love being right.”

You groan, turning to the window to ignore him. But your heart is beating just a little too fast, and your mind keeps replaying Mingyu’s words.

Why hasn’t Wonwoo dated anyone?

And more importantly, why does the answer make your chest feel tight?

Once you’re done with the medical mission, you go back to the hospital. You push open the door to the on-call room, utterly drained from the long day. Mingyu had peeled off somewhere to check on the ER, but you went straight here, hoping to collapse onto the couch for at least a few minutes.

The room is dimly lit, quiet except for the faint ticking of the wall clock. At first, you think it's empty—until your eyes land on Wonwoo. He’s at his desk, head slightly tilted down, eyes closed.

You pause, debating whether you should leave him be. But before you can take a step back, his voice—low and a little rough from exhaustion—breaks the silence.

"You're back."

You blink. "I thought you were asleep."

He opens his eyes, looking at you with that unreadable expression of his. "Just resting my eyes."

You scoff lightly, stepping further inside. "You say that like it’s any better."

Wonwoo watches you as you drop your bag onto the desk, stretching your arms over your head with a tired groan. You don’t notice the way his gaze lingers, just for a second, before he leans back in his chair.

"Long day?" he asks.

You sigh, rolling out your shoulders. "Very. Mingyu was extra annoying, as usual."

Wonwoo hums, amused. "What did he do now?"

You hesitate, suddenly remembering the entire conversation about him. About how Mingyu basically implied that Wonwoo hasn’t dated anyone because of you.

You glance at Wonwoo, who’s waiting for your answer with a neutral expression. And for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to bring it up.

“Just the usual nonsense,” you say instead.

Wonwoo doesn’t press, just nods before looking back at his desk. There’s a brief silence—comfortable, familiar. The kind you only get with someone you’ve known for years.

Then, softly, he says, “You should eat before you sleep.”

You glance at him, arching a brow. "Did you just give me my own advice?"

A small smirk tugs at his lips. "You never follow it yourself."

You shake your head, but there’s something warm in your chest that wasn’t there before.

Damn Mingyu. Now you can’t stop noticing things.

You drop onto the couch, exhausted but still watching Wonwoo out of the corner of your eye. He hasn't moved from his desk, but now you notice the way he's rubbing his temples, his brows slightly furrowed.

His glasses aren’t on, which is rare. Wonwoo without glasses usually means one of two things—either he’s about to sleep, or he has a headache.

Judging by the way he keeps pinching the bridge of his nose, it’s definitely the latter.

"You okay?" you ask.

"Mhm." He doesn’t look up, still rubbing slow circles into his temples.

You frown. "Did you even rest today?"

"I did," he says, but you don’t believe him for a second.

With a sigh, you push yourself up and walk over to him. He barely reacts when you place a hand on his shoulder, but he finally opens his eyes when you gently pull his hand away from his forehead.

"You have a migraine, don’t you?" you ask, squinting at him.

Wonwoo blinks at you, then exhales through his nose—something between amusement and surrender. "Just a small one."

You roll your eyes. "Right. Small enough that you’re sitting here rubbing your head like an old man."

He gives you a flat look. "Thanks."

Ignoring his sarcasm, you reach for his desk, rummaging through one of the drawers. You know he keeps medicine in here somewhere—he’s always prepared for everyone else’s headaches, just never his own.

After a few seconds, you find what you’re looking for and shake two pills into your palm before grabbing his forgotten water bottle. You hold both out to him expectantly.

"Take these."

He doesn’t move at first, just stares at you with that unreadable look again.

"Wonwoo," you say, more firmly. Finally, he sighs and takes the pills from your hand, swallowing them with a sip of water.

You nod, satisfied. "Good. Now go lie down before you pass out at your desk."

He exhales slowly, then mutters, "You’re bossy."

You smirk. "And yet you listen to me."

He doesn’t argue. Just shakes his head with the smallest hint of a smile before standing up. And for some reason, as he moves toward the bunk beds, you feel that warmth in your chest again.

You leave the room after turning the lights off to let him rest. You find Mingyu, maybe grab some late night snacks. As you and Mingyu walk through the hospital corridors, making casual conversation, a familiar figure approaches.

It’s him—Doctor Lee, the one who had flirted with you before.

Mingyu notices the way your shoulders tense and immediately perks up, eyes darting between you and Doctor Lee with barely concealed interest. "Oh, this should be fun," he mutters under his breath.

You shoot him a look. "Shut up."

Before Mingyu can tease you further, Doctor Lee reaches you, flashing that same confident smile.

"Hey, fancy seeing you again." His tone is smooth, casual, but there’s something pointed in the way he looks at you.

"It’s a hospital," you reply dryly. "You’ll probably see me a lot."

Mingyu barely hides his laugh behind a cough.

Doctor Lee, unfazed, chuckles. "Right. Still, I was hoping I’d run into you. Thought maybe this time I could convince you to grab a coffee with me?"

Mingyu freezes beside you, his head snapping toward you so fast you think he might give himself whiplash. He is way too interested in this.

You open your mouth to respond—politely decline, of course—but before you can, a voice cuts in.

"She already has a coffee supplier."

You turn your head just in time to see Wonwoo standing a few steps away, arms crossed, looking completely unimpressed. His tone is calm, but there’s an edge to it, something just sharp enough that it makes both you and Doctor Lee pause.

Mingyu, of course, is thriving.

"Oh, do you now?" Doctor Lee glances between you and Wonwoo, one eyebrow raised.

You sigh, rubbing your temple. "Wonwoo, don’t—"

"She never has to ask. Her coffee order just appears," Wonwoo continues smoothly, ignoring you. "Sometimes with snacks too."

Mingyu wheezes.

Doctor Lee blinks, clearly trying to figure out if there’s something more to Wonwoo’s words. You’re pretty sure you know exactly what he’s doing, but before the other man can press further, you exhale and take a step back.

"Anyway, I have rounds to finish," you say quickly. "See you around."

Before Doctor Lee can respond, you grab Mingyu’s sleeve and yank him along with you, leaving the poor guy standing there confused.

Mingyu is absolutely dying.

"Wonwoo totally just alpha-blocked that guy," he laughs, struggling to keep up with your fast pace. "Like, not even subtle. That was lowkey territorial."

You groan. "Don’t start."

"Oh, I’ve already started." Mingyu grins, wiggling his eyebrows. "So… your coffee supplier, huh?"

You don’t answer. Instead, you walk even faster, pretending you don’t hear Mingyu’s continued teasing all the way down the hall.

As you speed-walk down the hall, Mingyu still snickering beside you, you hear the sound of familiar footsteps following behind. You don't even need to turn around to know who it is.

You sigh dramatically, slowing your steps just enough to glance over your shoulder. "Weren't you suffering from a migraine?" you ask, narrowing your eyes at Wonwoo.

Wonwoo, walking at a completely casual pace as if he didn’t just interrupt an entire conversation to assert his place in your life, simply shrugs. "It went away."

Mingyu claps a hand over his mouth, trying so hard not to burst out laughing. He fails.

"Ohhh, interesting," Mingyu chokes out between laughs. "So you had a migraine, but the moment Doctor Lee showed up, you were suddenly fine? Wow. Almost like it wasn’t that serious to begin with."

Wonwoo shoots him a blank look. "Or maybe I just recovered."

"Right, right," Mingyu nods, "or maybe you just didn’t like what you were seeing."

You groan, rubbing your forehead. "Mingyu, please—"

"No, because listen," Mingyu continues, fully ignoring you now, "if I had a migraine, I would not be up and walking this fast just to make sure my ‘friend’—" he even throws up air quotes, "—wasn’t having coffee with someone else."

"I wasn’t walking fast," Wonwoo deadpans.

"Okay, but you were there," Mingyu counters. "Like, right there. That’s suspicious, man."

You throw up your hands. "Oh my God, both of you, stop."

Wonwoo just blinks, completely unbothered. "Do you still want coffee?" he asks, as if the last five minutes of chaos didn’t just happen. Mingyu wheezes again.

You groan even louder. "You are so annoying."

Later Wonwo drove you and Mingyu home. The car ride is quiet after Mingyu gets dropped off, leaving just you and Wonwoo. The city lights blur past the window, and you drum your fingers lightly on your thigh before finally speaking

"Hey."

"Hm?" Wonwoo doesn’t take his eyes off the road, but you know he’s listening.

"That thing Mingyu said … about you not dating anyone since med school—"

Wonwoo glances at you briefly before looking back at the road. "What about it?"

"Is it true?" you ask, shifting slightly to face him. "You really haven’t dated anyone all these years?"

He doesn’t answer right away, but you notice the way his fingers tighten slightly around the wheel. "I was busy," he finally says, voice even.

"We were all busy," you counter. "Mingyu dated. Seokmin dated."

Wonwoo exhales softly through his nose. "And you?"

You blink, caught off guard. "What about me?"

"Did you date?" He doesn’t look at you, but there’s something in his voice, something careful, deliberate.

You hesitate, then shrug. "Not really."

That makes Wonwoo glance at you, just for a second. "Why?"

You huff a quiet laugh. "Why are you answering my question with another question?"

"Because you’re deflecting," he replies easily.

You frown, arms crossing. "Maybe I just didn’t feel like it."

Wonwoo hums, the sound low and thoughtful. "Then I guess we’re the same."

That makes you pause. He’s right, in a way. You never thought much about dating, always too caught up in the chaos of work, of life. But hearing that he was the same—that he never even tried—makes something uneasy stir in your chest.

"So…" you start carefully, "was there really no one? Not even someone you liked?"

The streetlights cast long shadows over his face, and for a moment, you think he won’t answer. But then, softly—so softly you almost don’t hear it—he says,

"I wouldn’t say that."

Your breath catches, but before you can press further, the car slows. You realize, belatedly, that you’ve already arrived at your place.

Wonwoo shifts into park and finally, finally looks at you. His expression is unreadable, but there’s something in his eyes, something deep and quiet and there.

You swallow. "Wonwoo—"

"Go inside," he says gently, cutting you off.

You hesitate. The air feels heavy, thick with something unspoken.

But in the end, you don’t push.

"Okay," you mumble, unbuckling your seatbelt. "Drive safe."

He nods, watching as you step out and close the door behind you.

As you walk up to your building, you don’t turn back snd inside his car, Wonwoo stays parked for a long time, staring at where you were.

You’re never like this.

You’ve known Wonwoo for years, been friends with him for so long that his presence has always felt natural, something you never had to think about. But now? Now, after what Mingyu said, after what Wonwoo didn’t say, you’re noticing everything.

The way he automatically sets a coffee cup in front of you in the morning, the way he subtly reaches out like he’s ready to catch you when you take a sharp turn in the hallway, the way his eyes linger when you’re talking—like he’s listening to every word, even the useless ones.

It’s worse in the on-call room.

Wonwoo’s at his desk, writing notes, glasses perched on his nose. It’s a normal sight, something you’ve seen a thousand times before. But for some reason, today, you can’t stop looking. The way his brows furrow slightly in focus. The way he absentmindedly taps his pen against the desk. The way he reaches up to push his hair back, exposing his forehead just a little more.

Seokmin, lying on the bottom bunk, suddenly snickers. "You good over there?"

You snap your head toward him. "What?"

He grins, flipping through his phone lazily. "You’re staring."

"No, I’m not."

"Uh-huh."

Wonwoo, completely unaware, flips to the next page in his notes. You glare at Seokmin before quickly grabbing your own chart, pretending to focus. But even then, you’re way too aware of the fact that Wonwoo is right there.

And maybe you have been staring.

The moment you walk out, Seokmin doesn’t even wait.

He turns to Wonwoo with a slow grin, tossing his phone onto his chest. "So…"

Wonwoo doesn’t look up. "So?"

"She was staring at you."

That gets Wonwoo’s attention. He finally lifts his eyes from his notes, blinking at Seokmin. "What?"

"She. Was. Staring." Seokmin emphasizes each word like Wonwoo is dense. Which, honestly, he kind of is. "Like, full-on eyes stuck on you. If I wasn’t here, she probably would've burned a hole through your head."

Wonwoo frowns, shifting slightly in his seat. "You’re exaggerating."

"Am I?" Seokmin smirks. "I don’t think I am."

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything to that. He just exhales through his nose and turns back to his notes. But Seokmin knows him too well—sees the way his ears go just the slightest bit red.

Seokmin grins. "Dude, I’m telling you, she’s noticing things. That’s a good sign."

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, flipping a page in his notes. "Go to sleep, Seokmin."

"Oh, I will. But just so you know…" Seokmin stifles a laugh. "I think you’re in trouble, man."

The rest of the day is… annoying. Not because of any difficult surgeries or unbearable patients, but because you are now painfully hyper-aware of Wonwoo. It’s stupid.  Like when he rolls up his sleeves before scrubbing in for surgery, and you catch yourself staring at his forearms for half a second too long.

Or the absolute worst—when you’re eating lunch with the others, and Wonwoo absentmindedly pushes the side dishes you like closer to you. It’s such a small, automatic thing, and normally you wouldn’t even blink at it. 

But today? Today, you almost drop your chopsticks.

"You good?" Seokmin asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Fine!" you say way too quickly, shoving food in your mouth to avoid talking.

Mingyu, the menace that he is, narrows his eyes at you. "Are you sure? You’ve been kinda weird today—"

"She’s fine," Wonwoo interjects smoothly, taking a sip of his coffee.

And just like that, you’re spiraling again. Because now you’re overthinking that. He just said you were fine. That’s normal, right? That’s just Wonwoo being Wonwoo. But now it sounds like he knows something, like he can see how much you’re overthinking him—

You hate this.

By the time your shift ends, you’re exhausted—not just physically, but mentally from all the overthinking. So when Wonwoo casually says, "Let’s go," and gestures toward the exit, you don’t even question it.

It’s routine, anyway. You don’t drive, and if Mingyu isn’t around to make you suffer through his questionable playlist, it’s usually Wonwoo who gives you a ride home.

The car ride is quiet at first, just the low hum of the engine and the faint sound of the radio playing some late-night ballad. You try to focus on anything else, but of course, you’re hyper-aware of every small thing he does. 

"You were weird today," he says suddenly.

You stiffen. "No, I wasn’t."

He hums, like he doesn’t quite believe you. "If you say so."

You scowl, slumping in your seat. "You’re annoying."

"And you’re terrible at hiding things."

You whip your head toward him. "Excuse me?"

Wonwoo glances at you with the tiniest smirk before turning his attention back to the road. "You keep staring at me."

You nearly choke. "I— that’s not—you—"* You shut your mouth before you embarrass yourself even more.

"Don’t overthink it," he says, like he can hear your brain short-circuiting.

You glare at him, crossing your arms. "I’m not."

"Sure."

He pulls up to your place, and before you can even reach for the door handle, he beats you to it, leaning over to unlock it from the inside. You freeze for half a second because he’s too close, and you swear he hesitates too before leaning back.

"Get some rest," he says simply.

You step out, and just as you close the door, he rolls down the window. "And stop staring so much. It’s obvious."

"I WAS NOT—!"

But he’s already driving away, leaving you standing there, burning with embarrassment.

Wonwoo didn’t mean to say it.

But the way you froze, the way your eyes widened in sheer panic before you tried to deny it—yeah, that reaction was worth it.

He’s not stupid. He noticed the shift in you over the past few days. The way you’ve been watching him more, like you suddenly started paying attention. Like you were seeing things for the first time that have always been there. It would’ve been amusing if it wasn’t also kind of frustrating.

Because he’s been looking at you like that for years.

He doesn’t usually let things slip. He’s careful, measured. But with you? It’s always been a little different.

As he drives away, he catches a glimpse of you in the rearview mirror—still standing there, fuming, probably cursing him under your breath. He exhales through his nose, the closest thing to a chuckle he allows himself.

"Took you long enough."

He doesn’t realize he’s smiling until he catches his own reflection in the mirror. And he definitely doesn’t realize that his fingers tap against the steering wheel the entire way home, like he’s buzzing with something he refuses to name.

After that you try to avoid him. Not in an obvious way, just enough to make sure you don’t end up alone with him again. It’s stupid, but you can’t help it. Unfortunately, Mingyu and Seokmin have noticed.

“You’re acting weird,” Mingyu says while stuffing his face with food.

Seokmin leans in. “Super weird. Suspiciously weird.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not acting weird.”

“You literally just turned around when you saw Wonwoo walking this way,” Seokmin points out.

Mingyu snickers. “Yeah, and you ran in the opposite direction.”

“Okay, first of all, I had places to be.”

“You went to a supply closet.”

“…Shut up.”

Mingyu and Seokmin exchange a look before turning back to you, both wearing the same smug expression.

“You’re doomed,” Mingyu says with a grin. Seokmin agrees.

Before you can threaten them, someone clears their throat behind you. You turn around—and there’s Wonwoo.

His eyes flick between the three of you. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you blurt out, grabbing your tray and bolting.

From behind you, you hear Mingyu snicker, “Yup. Doomed.”

Later after another very long shift, you all but crawl out. There you see him. Wonwoo is standing outside the hospital entrance, hands in his coat pockets, glasses perched on his nose, looking completely unbothered by the cold night air. His eyes flick up the moment you step outside, and your heart does a stupid little flip.

“I thought you went home,” you say, stopping in front of him.

He raises a brow. “You were gonna chase the bus, weren’t you?”

You cross your arms. “Maybe.”

He huffs out a small laugh, then tilts his head toward his car. “Let’s go.”

You hesitate for half a second before following him. Because, well—this is Wonwoo. And he’s always been there, hasn’t he? Even when you didn’t notice.

You freeze halfway to the car. Wonwoo stops too, turning to face you. His expression is unreadable, but there’s a slight furrow in his brows, his hands still tucked in his coat pockets.

"Why are you avoiding me?" His voice is steady, calm—but you know him well enough to hear the shift in his tone.

"I’m not," you lie, immediately looking away.

"You are," he counters easily. "You barely look at me during rounds, you leave the on-call room the second I walk in, and you suddenly act like you're allergic to coffee when I offer."

Okay, maybe you were being a little obvious. You shuffle your feet, gripping the strap of your bag. "I—it's nothing."

Wonwoo doesn’t budge. He just stares, waiting, and you swear the silence between you feels louder than anything right now.

Then, quieter, he says, "Did I do something?"

That makes you look at him. His expression hasn’t changed much, but there’s something in his eyes—something careful, hesitant. You shake your head quickly. "No! You didn’t—You never—" You exhale sharply, running a hand through your hair. "It’s just… I don’t know."

That’s a lie. You do know. It’s because of everything—Mingyu’s words, Seokmin’s teasing, the way you suddenly can’t stop noticing every little thing Wonwoo does. And the way it’s making your heart act in ways it shouldn’t.

But how the hell are you supposed to say that?

Wonwoo studies you for a moment, then sighs, shaking his head. "Get in the car," he says, walking ahead. "We’re not doing this while you're sleep-deprived."

You stare after him, a little dumbfounded, before scrambling to follow. Because, well. This is Wonwoo. And he's always been there, hasn’t he?

The car ride is quiet. Not the usual comfortable silence, but something heavier. You glance at Wonwoo from the passenger seat—his fingers tapping lightly against the steering wheel, eyes focused ahead, his expression unreadable. He looks deep in thought.

And so are you.

Something stirs in the back of your mind. A memory, hazy but persistent.

It was years ago, after a long semester. You remember celebrating—too many drinks, too many laughs. And then… nothing. Just the aftermath. A raging headache, and the strange shift in Wonwoo’s behavior.

The day after that night, he started avoiding you. At first, you thought you were imagining it, but it became obvious—he wouldn’t meet your eyes, he stopped sitting next to you in class, and any conversation felt painfully awkward.

It lasted for weeks.

You never knew why.

Now, sitting next to him again, the memory presses into your chest. You glance at him once more, debating whether to ask.

But before you can, the car slows to a stop in front of your place.

"We’re here," Wonwoo says, voice even. He finally looks at you, and for a split second, there’s something in his gaze—something almost hesitant.

You swallow the words sitting on your tongue.

"Thanks for the ride," you mumble instead, pushing the door open.

But even as you step out, the question lingers.

It’s been bugging you for days. You try to brush it off, but the memory keeps surfacing at the most random moments—during surgeries, in the on-call room, even when you’re just grabbing coffee.

So, on a completely random day, when it’s just you and Wonwoo in the break room, you finally blurt it out.

"Why did you avoid me back in med school?"

Wonwoo, who was in the middle of sipping his coffee, freezes for a second. He lowers his cup slowly, eyes flickering to yours. "What?"

"You know," you insist, leaning against the counter. "After that one night out. The next day, you just—" You wave a hand, frustrated at how much this has been bothering you. "You barely talked to me for weeks. I thought I did something wrong, but I never knew what."

Wonwoo stares at you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you think he’s going to brush it off or change the subject. But instead, he exhales and places his cup down.

"You don’t remember anything from that night?" he asks carefully.

Your brows furrow. "Not really. Just that I drank too much, and I felt like death the next morning."

Wonwoo is quiet. Too quiet. Now you’re nervous.

"What did I do?" you ask cautiously.

He hesitates, then sighs. "You… said something."

Your stomach drops. "What did I say?"

"You were drunk. I didn’t think you meant it, but—" He rubs the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically unsure. "You told me you liked me."

Your brain short-circuits You what?

Wonwoo keeps going, voice softer now. "I didn’t know how to react. I thought maybe you’d forget, or that you didn’t mean it. So I just… avoided you." He exhales sharply, shaking his head. "It was stupid. I know that now."

You stare at him, your heart hammering against your ribs. You think your brain might actually shut down.

Wonwoo looks down at his coffee cup, almost like he's debating whether to continue. Then, with a small sigh, he says it—

"And you kissed me."

Your mouth opens, then closes. You blink at him, trying to process what he just said. You kissed him?

Wonwoo glances up at you, his expression unreadable, but you can tell he’s waiting for your reaction.

"I—" You swallow, scrambling for any memory of that night. But all you can remember is drinking too much, maybe laughing too loud, and then waking up with the worst hangover of your life. "I what?"

"You kissed me," he repeats, slower this time. "Just once. It wasn’t… it wasn’t a big thing. But you looked at me like—" He stops himself, shakes his head. "I don’t know. I didn’t think you meant it, so I thought it was better if I just avoided you until things went back to normal."

Your heart is hammering now. You kissed him. You kissed Wonwoo. And he never said a word about it.

"Why didn’t you ever bring it up?" you ask, your voice quieter now.

Wonwoo lets out a short, humorless laugh. "What was I supposed to say? 'Hey, do you remember kissing me that night?' You never brought it up either."

You stare at him, still trying to wrap your head around this. It’s not just the fact that you kissed him—it’s the fact that he’s looking at you now like this matters. Like maybe it wasn’t just a stupid drunken mistake to him.

And the worst part? You’re starting to think that it wasn’t just a stupid drunken mistake to you either. You hesitate for a moment before asking, "Is that why you weren’t dating?"

Wonwoo blinks, clearly caught off guard by the question. His fingers tighten slightly around his coffee cup before he exhales and leans back against the chair.

"I don’t know," he says slowly, like he’s choosing his words carefully. "Maybe. Part of it, yeah."

You feel something twist in your chest.

"What does that mean?" you press, your voice quieter now.

Wonwoo looks at you then, really looks at you. Like he’s debating whether or not to say what he actually wants to say.

"It means," he finally murmurs, "that maybe I was waiting."

Your breath catches. He doesn’t elaborate. He doesn’t need to. You can read between the lines. And suddenly, everything—the way he always looked out for you, the way he always made sure you ate, how he was always there—feels different. Feels heavier.

Like maybe you were supposed to notice a long time ago.

"I told you I liked you," you say, your voice sharper than you expected. "And you never told me."

Wonwoo doesn’t respond right away. He just watches you, unreadable, his grip tightening around his coffee cup.

"You were drunk," he finally says.

You let out a frustrated scoff. "And? That doesn’t mean it wasn’t true."

He exhales slowly, looking away. "I thought you wouldn’t remember. Or that maybe you’d regret it."

Your jaw clenches. "So you just decided that for me?"

Wonwoo rubs the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. "I didn’t want to risk losing you."

You let out a breath, your chest tight with something you can’t quite name. You’re mad—at him, at yourself, at the way this conversation is only happening now.

"That’s so stupid," you say, shaking your head. "That’s so—you’re so—"

You stop, because you don’t even know what you’re trying to say. You just know it makes you angry.

Wonwoo gives you a small, almost apologetic smile. "Yeah," he murmurs. "Maybe."

You push past Wonwoo, your head spinning with frustration, and storm out of the room. You make your way to the surgery ward, still replaying the conversation in your head. Your steps are heavy, your thoughts even heavier.

Seokmin is at the nurses’ station, casually flipping through a patient chart when he sees you approaching. He immediately notices your expression and sighs. “Alright, what did Mingyu do this time?”

You shake your head, dragging a chair and plopping down beside him. “Not Mingyu.”

Seokmin raises an eyebrow. “Then why do you look like you just found out your whole life was a lie?”

You groan, resting your forehead against the cool surface of the desk. “I did find out something. From med school.”

Seokmin hums in interest. “Go on.”

You lift your head slightly, hesitating before mumbling, “Apparently, I told Wonwoo I liked him back then.”

Seokmin freezes. Blinks. Then leans forward dramatically. “You did what?”

“I don’t remember, okay?” you hiss, slapping his arm. “I was drunk. But he remembered. And guess what? He never said anything.”

Seokmin lets out a low whistle. “Oof. That’s tough.”

You slump back in your chair. “I don’t even know why I’m mad. Am I mad at him? At myself? At the universe?”

Seokmin clicks his tongue. “I’d say all of the above.”

You glare at him.

He chuckles before getting serious. “Look, you’re mad because it meant something. Even if you don’t remember confessing, the fact that he never responded—never even acknowledged it—hurts.”

You bite your lip, looking away. “Yeah.”

Seokmin nudges you. “So, what are you gonna do?”

You exhale sharply. “I have no idea.”

Seokmin grins. “Well, this is gonna be fun to watch.”

And so, you do what any reasonable person would do. You avoid Wonwoo.

You’re not dramatic about it—at least, you tell yourself that. You’re just busy. Too busy to sit in the on-call room when he’s there. Too busy to grab coffee at the same time. Too busy to share a ride home.

Mingyu and Seokmin notice immediately.

Seokmin corners you first, casually blocking your way to the scrub room with a patient chart. “So, avoiding your not-boyfriend now?”

You groan. “I’m not avoiding him.”

“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head. “Then why did you suddenly start doing your post-op notes in this hallway instead of the lounge?”

You cross your arms. “I like the lighting here.”

Seokmin snorts. “Right. Because overhead fluorescent lights are so flattering.”

Mingyu, on the other hand, doesn’t even bother being subtle. He slaps a tray of food down at your table during a late dinner break. “So, what’s the plan?”

You blink at him. “For what?”

“For whatever mess you and Wonwoo have gotten yourselves into.” He waves his chopsticks. “It’s been days. Wonwoo looks like he’s about to lose his mind, and you look like you’re trying to ascend into another plane of existence just to avoid eye contact.”

You scowl. “I just need time to think.”

Mingyu raises an eyebrow. “And what exactly are you thinking about?”

You hesitate. “I don’t know. Everything? The fact that I apparently confessed years ago and he never told me? The fact that he’s acting like it doesn’t matter? The fact that maybe it does matter, but I don’t know what to do with that?”

Mingyu chews thoughtfully, then points his chopsticks at you. “Sounds like you’re not over him.”

You groan, dropping your head onto the table.

He pats your shoulder. “Just talk to him. Before one of you explodes.”

The moment the hospital alert blared through the speakers, it’s like everything was put on hold. A mass casualty incident. Multiple vehicles. A bus, a few cars.

The ER instantly became chaos—stretchers being wheeled in, nurses and doctors shouting orders, the smell of antiseptic and blood thick in the air. Wonwoo moved on instinct, running toward the commotion just as Mingyu turned to him, face pale.

“She took the bus today,” Mingyu said.

Wonwoo’s stomach dropped. He didn’t even need to ask who she was. His feet were moving before his brain caught up. He barely heard Mingyu yelling for him as he shoved past people, making his way to the hospital entrance. Paramedics were still unloading patients. Some were conscious. Some weren’t moving at all.

He turned, gripping the arm of a paramedic. “The bus—where is it? Was everyone taken out?”

“There are still people at the site,” the paramedic said. “Some are trapped. First responders are working on it.”

Wonwoo didn’t wait to hear the rest. He ran.

The crash site was a scene of wreckage—twisted metal, shattered glass, the air heavy with smoke and the sharp scent of gasoline. Emergency lights flashed red and blue against the darkening sky, casting eerie shadows over the scene.

Wonwoo barely registered the shouts of firefighters and paramedics as they worked to extract victims from the wreckage. His mind had narrowed to one thing—you.

He scanned the scene frantically, his pulse hammering in his ears. People were being pulled from the bus, some dazed, some unconscious. His breath hitched when he saw a familiar figure slumped against the pavement, a paramedic crouched beside you.

"Y/N!"

His voice was hoarse, nearly breaking as he sprinted toward you. Your head turned sluggishly at the sound of his voice. Blood streaked down your forehead, a cut splitting just above your eyebrow. Your white coat was smudged with dirt, torn at the sleeve, and you had one hand pressed to your side, wincing.

“Wonwoo?” you murmured, blinking up at him, disoriented.

He dropped to his knees beside you, hands hovering over your face, your arms, as if afraid you’d shatter at his touch. “What the hell—why—why are you still here? You should’ve been in the hospital already—”

“Dr. Jeon?” The paramedic beside you spoke up, recognizing him. “She’s stable for now, but we need to move her. There might be internal injuries.”

Wonwoo clenched his jaw. He knew that but it was different when it was you, when he was staring at your bloodied form and realizing how close he’d come to—

No. He refused to think about it.

“Let’s go,” he said, voice tight, as he helped lift you onto the stretcher.

Your fingers curled around his wrist, gripping weakly. “Wonwoo,” you murmured.

His heart stuttered. “What?”

“Don’t look so sad.” Your smile was faint, barely there. “I’m okay.”

He exhaled sharply, gripping your hand. “You better be.”

Your eyelids felt impossibly heavy, the pain dulling into exhaustion. The sounds around you—sirens, shouts, the rustle of movement—were starting to blur together.

“Hey, hey—no.” Wonwoo’s voice cut through the haze, sharp with panic. His grip on your hand tightened. “Stay with me.”

You hummed, barely nodding. “Just… tired.”

“I don’t care. You’re not sleeping right now.” His other hand cupped your cheek, the warmth grounding you. “Look at me.” You tried. Really, you did. But the weight behind your eyes was unbearable. Your head lolled slightly, and that’s when his voice broke—

“Y/N, please.”

Something in his tone made you fight harder to stay conscious. Your blurry vision focused just enough to see his face—his usual calm was gone, replaced with pure, raw worry.

“You’re always… so bossy,” you mumbled, forcing a weak smirk.

“And you never listen,” he shot back, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “So listen now—stay awake.”

The paramedics lifted your stretcher, and Wonwoo moved with them, never letting go of your hand. “We’re almost at the hospital,” he told you, voice softer now. “You’ll be fine.”

You weren’t sure if it was the exhaustion, the pain, or the way he was looking at you, but for a moment, you believed him. Wonwoo’s heart nearly stopped when your body went limp. He swallowed hard, his mind racing even as his training kicked in. You’d lost blood. Too much. Your skin was too pale, your breathing too shallow.

"Dammit," he muttered under his breath.

As soon as they reached the ambulance, he climbed in with you, pressing two fingers to your wrist again just to reassure himself that your pulse was still there.

"Stay with me," he murmured, more to himself than to you snd when the ambulance doors shut, sirens wailing as they sped toward the hospital, he didn’t take his eyes off you for even a second.

The ambulance screeched to a halt outside the emergency entrance, and the doors flew open. Wonwoo barely waited for the paramedics before he moved, helping guide the stretcher out.

“Female, late twenties, sustained injuries from the crash site,” one of the paramedics called out. “Multiple lacerations, possible concussion, and significant blood loss—she lost consciousness on the way.” Mingyu was already there, his eyes widening the moment he saw you. 

“Shit—Get her inside. Now! Bay 7!”

Mingyu paled but immediately snapped into action, helping the nurses prep you for assessment. Seokmin rushed in a second later, his expression shifting from relief to worry in an instant.

“Her BP’s low,” a nurse reported. “We need fluids started now.”

Wonwoo knew he should step back, let the trauma team handle it. But his feet refused to move. His pulse was racing, hands clenched at his sides.

“You need to get checked, too,” Mingyu said, glancing at the blood on Wonwoo’s scrubs—not his own, but yours.

“I’m fine.” Wonwoo’s voice was tight. “She—” His words caught in his throat. “Just take care of her.”

Mingyu exchanged a glance with Seokmin, who rushed down the ER the moment he heard about the accident, before nodding.

“Wonwoo,” Seokmin said carefully, “let them work. She’s in good hands.” he pulls Wonwoo out the hallway to let Mingyu and his team do their work.

Wonwoo’s jaw locked. He knew that. He did. But watching you, lying there so still, covered in bruises and blood—he’d never felt this helpless before. His mind was a mess. He should have driven you home. He should have made sure you weren’t avoiding him. He should have—

The doors burst open. A nurse rushed past him. Then, through the small window of the ER, he saw Mingyu and the rest of the team working frantically around you. Something was wrong.

He stepped forward, but Seokmin was suddenly there, blocking his way. “They’re doing everything they can,” Seokmin said, his voice firm but laced with worry. Wonwoo barely heard him. His eyes were locked on the room, on Mingyu pressing down on your chest.

You had coded.

A sharp breath left him as he staggered back, hitting the wall. Seokmin’s hand tightened on his shoulder. Neither of them spoke. Wonwoo’s hands were shaking. He curled them into fists. He’d never been this scared before. Not once in his life.

Wonwoo tried to push past Seokmin, but Seokmin held him back, gripping his arm tightly.

"Wonwoo, stop," Seokmin said firmly, his voice steady despite the tension in his face.

"I need to be in there," Wonwoo snapped, his breathing uneven. "I need to—"

Seokmin shook his head. "Mingyu’s got this. Do you think he’d let anything happen to her?"

Wonwoo clenched his jaw, his entire body tense, but he didn’t push forward again. He knew Seokmin was right but knowing didn’t make it easier. All he could do was stand there, watching through the window as Mingyu fought to bring you back.

Mingyu gritted his teeth, his hands steady even as the tension in the room thickened. The sound of the flatline rang in his ears, drowning out everything else.

"Charge to 200," he ordered, his voice sharp and controlled.

The nurse complied, handing him the paddles. Mingyu placed them on your chest, his heart hammering. "Clear!"

Your body jerked slightly as the shock coursed through you.

He checked the monitor. Still flat.

"Again! 300!"

Another shock.

Nothing.

Mingyu refused to let panic settle in. His friend was on this table. No, not just a friend. You were family.

"Come on," he muttered under his breath, sweat forming at his brow. "You're not done yet."

He pressed his hands to your chest, beginning compressions. "Give me one milligram of epi!"

Time blurred. His arms burned from the force of CPR, but he didn’t stop. He wouldn’t.

Then A blip. Another. A weak, slow rhythm appeared on the monitor.

He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "We've got a pulse," he announced, his voice hoarse but firm. The tension in the room eased slightly, but Mingyu knew it wasn’t over yet. He looked at you, unconscious but breathing, and exhaled sharply.

"You scared the hell out of us," he muttered under his breath. Then, he turned to the nurse. "Get her to the ICU. I'll update the others."

As the team moved into action, Mingyu pulled off his gloves, exhausted but relieved. Now, he just had to face Wonwoo.

Mingyu stepped out of the ER, exhaling deeply as he ran a hand through his hair. The hallway felt suffocating with tension, and the moment he looked up, his gaze met Wonwoo’s.

Wonwoo was still pacing, his fists clenched at his sides, eyes dark with worry. Seokmin stood nearby, watching carefully in case he had to physically restrain him again.

The second Wonwoo saw Mingyu, he froze. "How is she?"

Mingyu sighed, pulling off his surgical cap. "She coded."

Wonwoo’s face drained of color.

"But we got her back."

The relief was visible—Wonwoo’s shoulders slumped for just a second before he straightened, jaw tight. "Where is she now?"

"ICU. We stabilized her, but she’s not awake yet."

Wonwoo didn’t wait for another word. He turned on his heel, heading straight for the ICU.

Seokmin let out a breath. "I’m going after him before he scares the nurses."

Mingyu didn’t stop him. Instead, he leaned back against the wall, exhaustion hitting him full force.

"You better wake up soon," he mumbled to himself. "Or he’s gonna lose it."

Wonwoo barely made it past the ICU doors before the nurses blocked his way.

"You can’t see her yet, Dr. Jeon," one of them said firmly. "She’s still unconscious, and we need to monitor her closely."

His jaw tightened. "I just need to see her—"

"Wonwoo."

Seokmin grabbed his arm before he could push past them. "Stop."

Wonwoo turned sharply, eyes flashing. "She almost died, Seokmin. I—" He clenched his fists, unable to finish.

Seokmin’s grip didn’t loosen. "I know. But you barging in there isn’t going to change anything. Let them do their job."

Wonwoo’s breathing was heavy, his body tense as if he was holding himself together by a thread. His gaze flickered toward the door, frustration clear on his face.

Seokmin sighed. "Come on, man. Let’s sit for a second. You’re no good to her if you pass out from exhaustion."

Wonwoo didn’t move for a long moment, but finally, he exhaled sharply and let Seokmin pull him back toward the waiting area.

Still, he kept his eyes locked on the door, like sheer willpower alone could wake you up.

Hours passed, dragging on painfully. Wonwoo sat hunched forward, elbows on his knees, his fingers laced together so tightly they were turning white. Mingyu and Seokmin were on either side of him, equally exhausted but keeping watch.

No one spoke much. The weight of everything that had happened hung heavily in the air.

Then, finally, a nurse stepped out of the ICU.

"You can see her now."

Wonwoo was on his feet instantly, not even waiting for the others as he rushed through the doors. His heart pounded as he stepped into your room, his breath catching at the sight of you.

You were stil unconcious, but you were breathing. There were bandages wrapped around your head and arms, an IV hooked up beside you. But your chest rose and fell steadily. 

"You’re an idiot," he muttered, voice hoarse. But even as he said it, his hand hovered over yours, hesitant, before finally resting gently over your fingers.

Hours passed before you finally regained consciousness. The first thing you notice is the hand holding yours. The weight of everything sinking in. 

You gently squeeze his hand making Wonwoo sit up and look at you, “Hey you” you mumble at him. He didn’t say anything at first, just looking at you. Making sure he isn’t dreaming, he takes your warm hand pressing it against his cheek

“You scared me” he whispered

“Sorry”

He shakes his head. He stands up, leaning down to give you a kiss on the forehead. His lips lingering there for a while like he’s savoring every second. When he pulled back, his gaze met yours, filled with something unspoken.

“You should rest,” he murmured, voice still rough with emotion.

You gave him a small, tired smile. “Only if you do too.”

“I’m not leaving.” You already knew that. Even if he didn’t say it, you could see it in his eyes—he wasn’t going anywhere.

The door swung open, and Seokmin practically burst in, arms spread wide. “She LIVES!” he announced dramatically, as if you had risen from the dead.

You gave him a tired glare. “Was that necessary?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation, plopping down in the chair beside you. “Do you know how much stress you caused us?”

Mingyu walked in behind him, arms crossed. “You had me working overtime,” he said, half-joking, half-serious. “And I don’t even get paid extra for that.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was warmth in your smile. “Oh, I’m sorry. Next time I’ll schedule my near-death experience at a more convenient time.”

Mingyu clicked his tongue. “That’s all I ask.”

Seokmin gasped. “Excuse me? That is not all we ask! How about you don’t get into life-threatening accidents at all?”

You sighed, leaning back into the pillows. “Noted.”

Wonwoo, who had been quiet this whole time, just exhaled, shaking his head. “They’re never gonna let this go, you know.”

“Obviously,” you muttered, but your chest felt lighter. Because as much as they nagged, you knew it just meant they cared.

Your recovery days were… frustrating, to say the least. As a surgeon, you were used to being the one treating patients, not being the patient. And the worst part? Your own friends were your caretakers, which meant zero chances of slipping out of bed unnoticed.

Seokmin was the worst about it. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked one afternoon when you tried to stand up.

“For a walk,” you said.

He pushed you back down with one finger to your forehead. “You’re on bed rest, doctor.”

“I’m fine,” you grumbled.

Seokmin gasped dramatically. “You coded! You died for a minute, and now you want to go for a walk?”

Mingyu walked in just in time to hear that. “Wait, she tried to get up? I knew we should’ve strapped her down.”

You scowled at both of them. “I’m not a psych patient—”

“Then stop acting like one,” Mingyu shot back.

But it wasn’t just them. The nurses were in on it, too. They absolutely loved watching the usually stubborn and independent surgeon get bossed around. Every time Wonwoo came to check on you, you swore you saw them watching from the nurses’ station, whispering to each other.

And speaking of Wonwoo…

He was quiet but relentless. While the others nagged, he just watched you, making sure you ate, making sure you took your meds, making sure you rested. He didn’t have to say anything—his mere presence was enough to keep you in place.

But one evening, when the others had left, you finally had enough. “Wonwoo, I swear if you tell me to ‘take it easy’ one more time—”

“I won’t,” he said simply, sitting beside your bed.

You blinked. “Oh.”

He looked at you for a moment, then exhaled. “I just… I was really scared.”

Your throat tightened. “Wonwoo—”

“I almost lost you,” he murmured.

You stared at him, heart pounding. “…Okay.”

He gave your hand a light squeeze. “Good.”

“But that’s unfair, you can’t use that on me everytime”

Wonwoo’s lips twitched, barely holding back a smirk. “Use what?”

“You being all—” you waved your free hand vaguely, “—soft and serious. Making me feel bad for worrying you. That’s not fair.”

He let out a quiet chuckle, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. “It’s not fair that you keep scaring me either.”

You groaned, sinking further into your pillows. “Fine. Truce?”

Wonwoo tilted his head slightly, pretending to consider it. “…Only if you promise to stop being reckless.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Define reckless.”

He sighed. “I hate you.”

You smirked. “No, you don’t.”

“…No, I don’t,” he admitted, his voice softer this time.

You stretched your arms as you walked into the hospital, feeling a mix of exhaustion and relief. Being back at work after weeks of recovery felt oddly normal, except for the way your friends hovered around you like you were made of glass.

You sat across from Wonwoo at a quiet restaurant near the hospital, picking at your food while he watched you like a hawk. He had already subtly pushed a side dish closer to you twice, and when you slowed down again, he raised an eyebrow.

"Eat," he said simply, taking a bite of his own food.

You sighed, shoving a spoonful into your mouth to appease him. “Happy?”

He hummed in approval before sipping his drink. The meal went on in comfortable silence, but your mind kept drifting back to the last real conversation you had before the accident. 

“Wonwoo.”

“Hmm?”

You hesitated for a second, then pushed forward. “Before the accident, when we were talking… You said I kissed you.”

His grip on his drink tightened slightly. “Yeah.”

“And you never told me,” you continued, voice steady but firm. “I told you I liked you, and you never said anything. Is that… is that why you never dated anyone?”

Wonwoo let out a slow breath, placing his drink down carefully. “I thought you were drunk.”

“I was drunk,” you admitted. “But I wasn’t lying.”

He leaned back slightly, eyes flickering with something unreadable. “I didn’t know that.”

You exhaled sharply, running a hand through your hair. “So what, you avoided me for weeks, pretended like nothing happened, and then just… never dated anyone because of it?”

Wonwoo didn’t respond right away. He stared at you for a long moment, like he was deciding something. Then, finally, he spoke.

“I didn’t want to ruin what we had.” His voice was quiet but firm. “I thought if I told you, it’d change everything. And I didn’t—I couldn’t—” He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “I just didn’t want to lose you.”

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest. “And what about now?”

He met your gaze, something softer in his expression now. “Now, I think I almost did anyway.”

The weight of his words settled between you, and for the first time in weeks, maybe years, you felt like you were finally getting somewhere.

You stared at him, processing everything he’d just said. The years of friendship, the silent moments, the things left unsaid—all of it led to this.

“So,” you started carefully, your fingers tracing the rim of your glass, “you spent all these years… what? Waiting?”

Wonwoo let out a short, breathy laugh. “I don’t know. Maybe.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “It’s not like I planned to. I just—no one else ever felt right.”

Something in your chest tightened. “Wonwoo.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you. “Do you regret it?”

You blinked. “Regret what?”

“Telling me you liked me back then.” His voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

“I don’t regret it. What I regret is not remembering anything”

He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “You really don’t?”

“Not even a little,” you admitted. “If I had, we probably wouldn’t have wasted so much time.”

“And now?”

You held his gaze. “I don’t want to waste any more.”

For the first time in weeks, Wonwoo smiled—not the small, fleeting ones he’d been giving you, but a real one, the kind that reached his eyes.

“Then let’s not.”

The moment stretched between you two, something unspoken settling into place. Wonwoo didn’t say anything else instead he reached for your hand across the table, his fingers brushing yours before curling around them. It was such a simple gesture, but your heart still stuttered at the warmth of his palm against yours.

“You’re really doing this, huh?” you murmured, unable to stop the small smile tugging at your lips.

Wonwoo’s thumb traced lazy circles over your skin. “I should’ve done it a long time ago.”

You squeezed his hand, rolling your eyes playfully. “You should’ve.”

After your shift of course he waited for you to drive you home, the drive was quiet. Like how it usually is. But this this there's a sense of peace, something more comforting. Wonwoo made a thoughtful hum before, to your surprise, he reached over at a red light, fingers brushing against your hand. Then, in the most unexpected act of affection, he intertwined his fingers with yours.

“What—”

“I like holding your hand,” he admitted casually, as if this wasn’t the first time he was doing something like this outside of a life-or-death situation. “It’s warm.”

You blinked at him. This man. “Wonwoo,” you deadpanned, but your grip on his hand tightened, betraying you.

“Do you have any idea how confusing you are?” you muttered, squeezing his hand.

Wonwoo chuckled again, the sound low and warm. “I think I’m making it pretty obvious now.”

Your face heated up. You turned to look out the window, trying to hide the giddy feeling bubbling up in your chest. And just like that, the rest of the ride home was spent with your fingers still laced together, neither of you letting go.

You swallowed, heart stuttering in your chest at his words. Wonwoo's hand was still in yours, warm and steady

“If I’m reading this wrong,” he said, voice softer than before, “we can stop. I don’t want to force anything on you.”

You turned to him, watching how he kept his eyes on the road, his usual unreadable expression now laced with something else—something hesitant, something careful.

Your chest tightened.

“You think you’re reading it wrong?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

Wonwoo sighed through his nose, thumb unconsciously brushing against your knuckles. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t want to assume anything. And I don’t want you to feel like you have to go along with me just because…” He trailed off, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter with his other hand.

Just because he’s Wonwoo? Just because he’s been there always, in ways you never fully understood until now?

Your lips pressed into a thin line. You weren’t used to this—him being the one doubting things when it was usually you who overthought.

The car slowed as he pulled up in front of your place, but he didn’t make a move to let go of your hand. His fingers curled around yours loosely, like he was giving you the chance to let go first.

You didn’t.

Instead, you took a breath and turned to face him fully. “You’re not reading it wrong,” you said, firm but not unkind.

Wonwoo finally looked at you, the flickering streetlight outside casting shadows on his face.

“You’re not forcing anything,” you added, squeezing his hand. “I like this, okay? I like… us.”

Wonwoo just smirked, giving your hand a squeeze. “This is years in the making,” he murmured, like it was the simplest fact in the world. “Let me hold my girl’s hand for a minute more.”

You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head, but your heart was doing something completely different—stumbling over itself at the way he said my girl.

You swallowed, feeling warmth bloom in your chest. Years in the making. You’d never thought about it like that, but now that he said it, you realized—he was right.

All those late-night study sessions, the quiet moments in the on-call room, the way he always made sure you ate, the way he was just… there. It wasn’t sudden. It wasn’t new. It was just something that had always been there, waiting for the two of you to finally stop dancing around it.

“…Fine,” you muttered, fighting the smile but failing miserably. “One minute.”

Wonwoo chuckled, and instead of arguing, he just laced his fingers through yours, holding on like he never planned on letting go.

[traflawgar]

skin to skin

they almost lost you in a fight against a powerful enemy. they just need to feel your touch to know that you’re really here, safe and with them.

includes: luffy, sanji

TAGS: hurt/comfort, mentions of blood and injuries.

law, zoro | luffy, sanji

luffy

Luffy’s world seemed to spin on its axis as Nami told him you were injured. He ran towards the spot where you were fighting with all his might, the taste of victory souring in his mouth. When he found you, he had to take a step back. Injured seemed like such an understatement for the shape you were in. Battered and bruised, cuts and blood staining your skin, it more so seemed like you’d been to hell and back.

And yet, you were awake. Your eyes found him the second he came into view. Soundless, you called his name and he was quickly by your side. “It’s alright, you’ll be alright”, he whispered, though he was finding it hard to believe his own words.

His hands held your shoulders, his touch so soft it would’ve taken you by surprise had you not been so focused on not passing out. Luffy helped you to a sitting position and brought your body against his. He wrapped his arms around you, held your head against his chest, right above his accelerated heartbeat. He shut his eyes tightly, focusing on the way your body molded to his, repeating “I’m not losing you” in his head like a mantra.

sanji

Sanji paced outside the door, glancing at it every time he heard a noise. Over and over again he replayed in his mind the moment you got hurt. The blood all over you, the sound of bones breaking, your desperate cry of his name, your hand reaching out to him—it would all haunt his nightmares, even if you survived this.

When the door finally opened, his head snapped back to look at Chopper. All distress and anguish vanished the moment he said you would live. Sanji clutched his hair and cursed. Chopper's pleas to let him take care of his wounds fell on deaf ears. All that mattered was that you’d be okay, everything else could wait.

Ignoring his friend’s protests, he stalked into the room. Sharp pain made its home in his chest, all air stolen from his lungs, as he gazed upon your unconscious body on the bed. Covered in bandages, traces of blood still everywhere. You looked so frail that, for a painful moment, Chopper’s promise tasted of lies.

Wavering steps took him to your bedside. Weightless, he fell to his knees. A trembling hand held yours, but it was not enough to convince him you would be alright. Sanji inched closer and pressed his chest softly against your side, his head buried in the crook of your neck. He nuzzled into your skin, letting your warmth seep into him, deep into his bones, so that he’d know, with every fiber of his being, that he had not lost you.

TRAFLAWGAR 2025

[jazzyoranges]

Recognizeable

Wednesday Addams x fem!shapeshifter!reader

Summary: based on this ask!

Words: 1.4k

A/n: this kinda doesn’t have a plot 😭 whoopsies

Warnings: blood, wounds, i swear it’s not angsty R just takes a small tumble lol

“Did it hurt?”

“What, when I fell from heaven?” You crack a smile at your very hilarious joke, but Wednesday does her version of a huff and an eye-roll

“Apologies, I should have elaborated better.” You wince a little in pain as Wednesday disinfects the open wound on your knee and the smaller cuts around your body

The Addams girl was taking Thing and her pet bird, aka you, for a walk outside Nevermore in the forest that surrounded the academy as she watched you loop around in circles. She’d assume you were training for some competition if she didn’t know your personality enough, but Wednesday ultimately came to the conclusion you just had the bird equivalent of zoomies

You squawked at other birds as you passed them by in their trees, and Wednesday made a mental note to ask you if you could actually talk and understand them. Her hypothesis was that you couldn’t and you were just making animal noises for your own amusement

Either her hypothesis was true and you had no idea what you said, or you knowingly called a bird a slur. The previous was probably true due to the horrified expression on your face as a murder of crows you were “talking” to started chasing you down. You must’ve squawked something real bad for all of them to come after you.

You miss the smirk Wednesday has on her face.

The crows must’ve overwhelmed you pretty bad, because next thing she knew you were hitting every single branch of a tree in human form. Was that intentional? She’d have to ask you about it later. After she made sure you weren’t dead, of course

Wednesday arrived just in time for you to almost slam straight into her head, but a simple side step caused you to eat shit instead. There was a very noticeable and loud thump when your head hit a tree root. Wednesday would’ve been more concerned if you didn’t immediately curl into the fetal position, mumbling about how you’d take a nap right then and there

Either shapeshifters were gods, or you just had a really fucking thick skull. Wednesday internally smiled at the thought.

The Addams girl was well aware of the smelling salts in her backpack for times like these, but she looked at Thing for what he wanted to do to get you up. You could wait… probably.

After some inspection, Thing decided it was best to call Enid to carry you back to their dorm. The wound on your knee would only make you limp and cause more pain.

Wednesday made sure to keep you alive, though. She poked you with a stick here and there and gave you reassurance, which she saw you smile at.

You were prone to accidents. Both of the Addams knew you were fine. Truly, it was just another Tuesday. Wake up, go to class, take girlfriend and Thing on a walk, you break a bone, it was all a part of the schedule

It wasn’t even a shapeshifter thing either, you just refused to die. Which the Addams was ultimately grateful for, but your ability to visit death like a close friend had Wednesday just a little jealous

A groan of pain from the back of your throat brings the shorter girl back to the present

“Why did you turn human in the middle of the sky?”

“Whenever I shift I have to really concentrate on it the entire time, so I guess those crows just really fucked me up and messed with my focus” You sigh

“Is it hard? To keep concentration, I mean.” Wednesday starts to wrap the bigger wound on your knee with a bandage wrap

“I’ve been doing it forever, so it’s kinda easy. Not when you’re getting jumped by crows, though…”

“Could you not just shift a pair of wings for yourself?”

“I was already focusing on having the thick skull of a ram.” You knock on your head for effect. “How do you think I haven’t died yet?”

Oh so it was a shapeshifter thing. She was right about your thick skull, though

“Perhaps you should tell Enid that,” Wednesday gets up from her kneeling position in front of you. “She almost fainted carrying you on the way here and I have reason to believe it isn’t because you’re heavy.”

“Maybe I should get her something as compensation…” You mumble to yourself as Wednesday helps you out of the bathroom, using her as a crutch so you can flop onto her bed

The Addams girl sits beside you, your face buried in her sheets. Both of you fall into a comfortable silence as Wednesday continues to stare at you, her mind coming up with endless questions about your abilities.

If concentration was a constant concern, was Wednesday not giving you not enough credit? To focus on multiple tasks at once, surely it was hard for someone as air-headed as you. But then again, you have been doing this for your entire life. Did your concentration come as easy as breathing? Was it so natural you barely noticed it?

And surely the process hurt, right? Your molecules were repositioning themselves to fit the look of an entirely different being. What was there a difference between you and Weems?

What were your limitations? Wednesday would like to test them. Maybe if she’d ask kindly enough you’d-

“Ask your questions, Wens” You mumble into her soft bedsheets, your voice snapping Wednesday out of her thoughts

“Pardon?”

“We’re girlfriends. You can read my mind as much as I can read yours”

“And your logical explanation for that, is..?”

“Girlfriend magic.” You hold up your hands while shaking them, and Wednesday immediately recognizes the jazz hands you had quite an addiction to

“Another day, it’s best you rest.”

This makes you turn your head to look at Wednesday, a smile threatening to take over your face

“I don’t understand why people don’t believe me when I say you’re the romantic one” You gush

“Unless you want me to bombard you with questions until morning rises, I’d suggest you stay quiet.”

“Yes ma’am” You pull down Wednesday on her bed, shoving your face into the shorter girls collar.

From that day forward Wednesday asks you one question a day about your abilities, and you make sure to answer them as best as you can. It was something Wednesday appreciated about you.

Answers would span from 15 minutes to almost 2 hours long. There were some days you had to pull out the whiteboard that was collecting dust in the bee shed, writing and drawing out key information

At first it was casual, it really was. But a month later it was almost like class with how the Addams had a book and a half filled with information about you. A class Wednesday could actually get behind.

She’s learned every shapeshifter is different. Some turn into people, some turn into animals, and others can turn into both. So the book and a half was really just information about you, which Wednesday wasn’t exactly opposed to

Meditation seemed to be a pretty big thing to you. Whenever Wednesday was writing, you’d be meditating. At first the Addams questioned if you were compatible being in a room with her loud typewriter, but you insisted the noise was necessary for you to tune out

Another thing Wednesday learned is that you couldn’t exceed four limbs. Which, you made sure to voice your opinion on. The dreams of being a four-legged and two-winged western dragon was impossible, so unfortunately you’d have to make your peace with being a wyvern instead

Small snores came from you curled around Wednesday under a tree as a tiger. She could only focus on how you always somehow resembled your human face

Turning to a new page of her journal, the Addams girl starts to sketch the face of your tiger next to the one of your lion. No matter what form you’d take, Wednesday would be able to recognize it.

[thealtoduck]

Water

Dick Grayson x Male Reader

Content: Greek Mythology AU

Warnings: Smut, virginity loss, bottom!Reader, top!Dick, anal sex, unprotected sex, fingering, missionary position…

Prequel to: Sweet Juice

Summary: You recently joined Dionysus following, and one day when you’re on a walk you come across an injured hero…

——

You wandered peacefully through the forest, humming softly to yourself. You enjoyed taking walks to get a break from Dionysus and his retinue. It hadn’t been long since you’d been offered a spot to join them by Apollo and Dionysus so you were still getting used to how… excited they could get.

And as much as you enjoyed their company sometimes you needed a little quiet time to yourself. You walked along a small river seeing the water flow along easily. The sound of water trickling putting your mind at ease.

That ease was soon interrupted by the sound of snapping twigs and heavy panting. A figure appeared from behind some trees a head, stumbling clumsily in to the shallow river almost falling over. It was a man.

You stopped carefully as you did not recognise him. He hadn’t seen you so you snuck and hid behind a tree. You heard some grunting that sounded almost as if he was in pain. You peaked out behind the tree and took notes on his appearance.

He was very disheveled, his hair was messy and his chiton was torn and dirty. Then you saw injury on his semi-exposed upper body, he was bleeding. You watched him struggle to get up on the other side of the river.

He eventually managed but almost as soon as he did he collapsed. You don’t know what came over you but you hurried from behind the tree towards him. You got down on your knees next to him and rolled him on to his back. His eyes were closed. He was still breathing but he had passed out.

You studied his injury, it didn’t look to be fatal as long as it was treated immediately. You ripped a a piece of your own chiton, leaving your chest bare, and wrapped it over his wound. You then went to the shallow river and dipped your hand in, cupping some drops of water in it.

You brought it over to injured man and sat down beside him once more, you whispered a naiad blessing over the water that your mother had taught you, it would keep the wound from getting infected and furthering his injuries. You then let some drip on the bandaged wound.

You then rubbed the remaining drops on his forehead softly. It wasn’t until then you noted the beauty of the man, despite his overall disheveled appearance, he had a incredibly handsome face. Which made you almost immediately suspect he was a god or at least a demigod.

You then remembered you should probably try find some actual help for him. You went towards the small river and stepped down in to it. You used you half-naiad powers to call for whomever it belonged to. Soon enough a river god appeared before you.

You asked him for help, if he could travel to Dionysus camp and ask the olympian send help for the man while you waited with him. The river god was happy to help and made his way up stream towards the camp. You then sat down dangling your feet in the running water while you waited.

——

(Dick’s pov)

——

Dick opened his eyes, he felt faint as he looked up at the bright blue sky. His body still ached. He reached a hand towards his wound to feel how bad it was but found a piece of cloth had been tied to cover it. He wasn’t alone.

Dick tried his best to sit up, using his elbows for support. He looked forward and saw a blurred figure in front of him, he focused his eyes to the best of his abilty and saw the bare back of a man with dewy y/c/s skin.

”Who-Who are you?” Dick asked weakly making the figure swiftly turn his way. Dick immediately noticed the man’s striking facial features, youthful yet very handsome.

The man got up quickly and came towards Dick. ”You should lay down again, you’re injured, I’ve sent for help they’ll be here soon” he said in a comforting tone but ignoring his question. Dick didn’t push for and answer and instead layed down again. Closing his eyes once more.

——

(Your pov)

——

Soon enough two satyrs came carrying a strecher. You helped them lifting the man on to it. And the four of you started to make your way through the forest back to Dionysus’ camp. Once you got there the man was brought in to the medical tent where the maenads and satyrs would care for him.

The next day you visited the medical tent to check on the man, he still hadn’t woken up yet after the day before, but his caregivers assured you he’d be fine after some rest. You had brought him a set of new clothes and put them on the table next to his bed.

As you did a low groan came from the man, immediately catching your attention. You moved over to him as his eyes fluttered open. His sat up on the bed, looking carefully around, his eyes finally landing on you. ”Where-Where am i?” He asked in a hoarse voice. ”You’re in Dionysus camp” you answered softly.

”Who are you?” he asked. ”My name is Y/n, I was the one who found you, you had collapsed next to a river” you explained, the man had a moment of clarity. ”I remember you now, I saw you, you covered my wound” he said and you nodded, your eyes lingering on him.

You then realized you were staring and quickly turned towards the tent opening, saying rapidly ”You must be hungry, i’ll go find you some food”. And you hurried away before he could even answer.

You collected a bowl of fresh grapes and apples and brought them back to the tent. As you walked in, you were caught of guard as you were met with the the naked form of the man standing in front of you. You immediately turned your gaze to the tent wall.

”Sorry, do you want me to come back later?” You excused, your cheeks heating up. ”No, it’s fine” the man said casually and started getting dressed in the clothes you brought him. You walked over and put the bowl of fruit down on a table and immediately turned to leave once more.

But the man grabbed your arm making you stop and turn to look in to his rich brown eyes. ”I must thank you Y/n, you’ve saved my life and provided me with food and clothing, i’m forever grateful” he said warmly. You were completely taken of guard and didn’t know what to say.

Then another figure entered the tent, it was one of Dionysus’ personal guards. He was slightly shocked of the sight of the half naked man holding you but quickly regained his composure and said ”Y/n, Lord Dionysus has requested the presence of you and our guest”.

”Of course” you said formally and turned to Dick and said ”Once you’re finished getting dressed come to the big purple tent, we’ll be waiting”. You then left along with the guard and walked to Dionysus’ tent.

”Did he try anything with you?” The guard asked in a stern manner. You shook your head and answered ”No, no need to worry, he was just thanking me for helping him”. Everyone within Dionysus following was aware of the fate of your mother Daphne, at the hands of Apollo and Eros

And when you joined them, Dionysus had sworn that he and his retinue would protect you from gods and mortals alike that would try to violate you and protect your virginity for as long as you wished to keep it.

You entered the big tent where Dionysus and Ariadne were sat on their respective thrones, they smiled at you appearance. ”Y/n!” Dionysus said happily at the sight of you, he waved for you to come closer. You stood yourself in front of Dionysus and Ariadne and gave a polite bow to both of them.

”Lord Dionysus, you asked for my presence” you stated. ”Yes but let’s wait for our guest, meanwhile you can come sit down” Dionysus said politely and gestured to the fluffy pillows spread next to his throne. He had saved you a seat on the ground next to him like always.

Ever since you’d arrived you had quickly become one of his most dear followers. You didn’t know it but he could relate to your loss of your mother to that of his own and them both being screwed over by horny Olympian.

You sat down next to him and Dionysus handed you a goblet of wine telling you to drink. You took a sip of the dark liquid tasting it’s rich flavor.

Soon enough, the man entered, he had a confident walk that could only be matched by that of an Olympian. He bowed before Dionysus and Ariadne and greeted formally ”Lord Dionysus and Lady Ariadne, i must thank you for welcoming me to your camp, Is there any way i could be of service to repay you for your kindness?”.

”Yeah, get out…I don’t want your kind here hero” Dionysus said in an immediately sour tone. You were suprised. ”You’re a hero?” you found yourself asking outloud, drawing all eyes to you. Of course it did explain his good looks but he seemed so humble for how Dionysus had described heroes to you.

You were aware of Dionysus and Ariadne’s distaste of heroes because of Theseus and the pair had not painted a good picture of what they were like to you.

The man turned to with a smile and stated in a kind voice ”How rude of me, I never introduced myself, I’m Richard, Son of Hemera, Goddess of daytime, but most people just call me Dick”.

Dionysus the continued to grumble annoyed ”You heroes only cause more trouble then you’re worth, the only reason I let you stay the night was because our dear little Y/n here didn’t want you to die, now I want you out of my camp right now”.

Dick nodded and said calmly ”Your wish is my command, Lord Dionysus, may i ask for a map so i can navigate my way home”. ”Done” Dionysus said simply, just wanting him gone as soon as possible and waved his hand making a map appear out of thin air in front of him.

”Lord Dionysus” you spoke up. ”Yes, my dear half-naiad” Dionysus said in a immediately more kind tone. ”May I help escort our guest home, his injuries aren’t fully healed yet and we should make sure he gets home safe” you suggested.

Dionysus went quiet for a moment to think until he let out an annoyed sigh followed by a drawn out ”Fine”. He quickly turned to Dick and said threatiningly ”But if you as much as pluck a hair of my attendant, I’ll turn you in to a leopard just so i can skin you and wear you, got that?”.

Dick nodded and said ”I swear he’ll be unharmed, Lord Dionysus”

”Well then, get going” the god said.

——

The two of you packed a big basket full of food and several canteens of water and some of wine. Then you started your journey. Dick suspected the journey there would only take about 2 of traveling.

As you walked the two of you started talking and getting to know each other, you told Dick about your mother and how you ended up in the Dionysus’ retinue. And you learned that Dick was apparently from a small village where he lived alone in a big house passed down by his father who had died from illness.

You enjoyed the forest scenery as you traveled, occasionally stopping next to a spring or a meadow for a quick break. The sun started getting lower and lower until eventually the sky was getting dark.

The two of you found a good place to camp for the night and Dick started a fire. The two you then enjoyed some food. You then realised you had forgot to ask him something. ”Hey Dick, how come you ended up in the forest in the first place?” You questioned.

”Well, recently my village has been having trouble with giant aggressive boar along the main road attacking everyone from travelers, workers and even families with children passing by. And since I’m the only demigod in the village i felt it was my duty to deal with it to keep the people safe” Dick explained.

”And although i managed to slaughter the beast I got injured, and well the rest you know” he finished. ”That was very brave of you, i’m sure your village will be proud” you told him, making Dick smile brightly.

After you finished dinner the two of you decided to get some sleep, you both decided it was best to sleep hudled together for heat, you laid down close together beneath your traveling cloaks using them as blankets. And then you both drifted of to sleep.

The next day you continued your travels through out the day until the late afternoon when you finally reached Dick’s village. The two of you walked through the town square, they welcomed Dick back with open arms deciding to celebrate his victory over the giant boar the following day.

Dick was also gifted with several items for his service to the village like new clothes, food and wines. They even gave him a crate just so he could carry everything back to his house.

Several of the towns people looked at you with interest. They probably don’t see half-naiads every day. A little girl walked forward to you and offered you a pretty flower. You accepted it gratefully. Dick then led you to his house which was located at the outskirts of the village.

”Thank you Y/n for all your help, I wouldn’t be here today without your help, I am forever in your debt” Dick said gratefully bowing his head to you, you gave a slight bow back. ”It was nice getting to know you Dick, you’ve been good company” you said and turned to begin your return journey.

But Dick grabbed your wrist making you turn back to him. ”Please, won’t you stay for the night, it’s a long journey back and you should get some rest” Dick offered kindly. You smiled, ”I’d love too” you said and you and Dick entered his house.

You sat down as Dick started a fire in the hearth. Dick then went to the kitchen and made dinner for the two of you. The two of you then sat down at the dinner table and ate. Dick had made a small feast for the two of you from the foods he’d been gifted by the village. There was meat, bread, cheese and fruits. He poured you a goblet of wine and the two of you ate.

Once you were both finished you went in to the sitting room. You studied your chiton, it was dirty from sleeping on the ground and smelled of smoke. And after dinner it now had a small wine stain too. Dick seemed to notice what you were looking at.

”Would you like me to warm some water for you to freshen up?” Dick offered. ”If it’s not to much trouble” you said. ”Not at all, you just rest” Dick said walking out on the yard to a well collecting several buckets.

He warmed the water and poured it in a bathtub for you. He poured in some scented oils and called you in. You thanked him and he left to let you clean yourself. He quickly then realised he forgot to give you new clothing to change to.

He collected one of his own chitons and without thinking walked in to the bathroom. He was met with your fully undressed body. Dick was mesmerized by your beauty. You turned to him and as your eyes met he remembered himself.

”I’m so sorry, Y/n, i didn’t mean to-” Dick started to apologise. But you cut him off saying ”It’s alright, mistakes happen, right?” And Dick remembered you had accidentally walked in on him changing. Dick smiled and put down the clothes on a table and left once more.

While you were bathing Dick made sure to wash himself off as well, he poured warm water in a basin and undressed, he then rubbed a sponge over his body. He thought of what he had just witnessed.

You were the most beautiful person he had ever witnessed. More beautiful than any god or goddess. More beautiful than Apollo or Aphrodite. Your body was more perfect than any work of art.

Dick imagined his hands roaming your naked body, feeling every part of you, he wanted to lay you down on his bed and spread your legs and pleasure you.

Dick felt his manhood and realised he had gotten hard thinking of you. He immediately tried to think of something else. Dionysus had declared you off limits and if he didn’t wish to die a most painful death so he needed to control himself. He finished washing himself and got dressed once more.

Dick went in to his bedroom and started getting ready for bed. A while later you came in, somehow you looked even more beautiful with damp skin and hair, he guessed that was a half-naiad feature. ”Where should i sleep?” you asked him.

Dick then realised he hadn’t actually planned that far. ”You can take my bed if you’d like” he offered. ”Well, where will you sleep then?” you asked him. ”I can sleep next to the hearth” Dick stated and walked to leave the room. ”Are you sure?” you asked. ”Absolutely” he answered. You grabbed his arm making him turn around to meet your eyes.

”Why don’t we share the bed?” you suggested. You and Dick studied each others eyes. ”Would that be alright with you?” Dick asked and you nodded. You continued gazing at each other and Dick found himself unable to control himself.

He leaned forward and planted a kiss against your lips, he was suprised to find you didn’t pull back. In fact you were pressing your lips against his as well. The kiss led to the two of you softly making out.

Dick helped you strip out of your clothes, and he studied your body once more. Immaculate. Dick stripped out of his own clothes. You pressed your lips together once more and your naked bodies met for the first time. Your madhoods grazing together. Dick ran his hands down your back.

He led you to the bed and you layed down on the soft silky sheets. Dick climbed on to the bed and in between your legs. ”Are you sure you want this” Dick asked. ”Yes, i want you to be my first” you answered. ”Do you want this?” you asked in return.

Dick smiled and said ”Yeah, you’ll be my first too”. He grabbed a bottle of body oil and put some on finger, he then inspected your ass. He slowly pressed a finger in to your hole, making you gasp from the new feeling. He pushed his finger further in to you.

You adjusted slowly and once you did Dick added another finger and then another slowly streching you out. ”Are you ready?” Dick asked and you nodded. He slowly pulled out his fingers and picked up the body oil again, pouring some in to his hand and slathering it on his manhood.

Dick positioned himself between your spread legs, he then started pushing his thick cock in to your virgin hole, streching you out even further. Dick groaned at the feeling of your clenched walls as he pushed himself further in.

You moaned softly as Dick was all the way in, his virgin cock leaking pre cum inside you. ”Fuck Dick, your so big” You said as you legs wrapped around his torso. After adjusting Dick started moving slowly in and out of you.

Both your groans filled the room as Dick set a steady pace. He kissed you deeply as he slowly thrust himself in to your hungry hole. ”You feel amazing around my cock” Dick whispered. The room heated up and sweat started glistening on your foreheads.

Dick’s balls slapped against your ass his hung manhood plowed in to you. The sight of your naked body beneath him made Dick long to fill you up with his seed, making his thrusts speed up slightly.

Your bodies glittered with sweat in the moonlight as Dick took you on his bed. The two of fucked for as long as could hold yourselves. Your cock was leaking pre cum on your stomach and you could feel yourself getting close.

Dick was getting close too, his big cock feeling ready burst. ”Dick, i’m gonna cum” you exclaimed blissfully. ”Me too sweetheart” he said, his thrusts chasing his realease. You moaned loudly as you were pushed over the edge.

You came splashing cum all over your’s and Dick’s lower chest, feeling in complete euphoria as you did. The sight made Dick deliver his last powerful thrusts before cumming inside you. Filling you with seed making it leak out of your ruined tightness.

The two of you were breathing heavily as Dick pulled out of your stuffed hole. Dick laid down next to you pulling you closer to himself. He then pulled the covers over the two of you. ”You were amazing” you whispered tiredly to Dick. ”You too” Dick said and the two of you quickly drifted off to sleep.

[etheries1015]

posted so much angst recently that I guess ill make it up with an alternative ending to this

...

General Lilias yelling hadn't left you without your woes. You had decided to take a break, walking deep into the woods to collect herbs and fruit as a way to pass time to cool off. Hours passed and when you hadn't returned to the cottage as you normally would, and Lilia began to worry (against his will) . He sat at the wooden table, head propped up with his hand as he stared at the clock ticking on the wall much to his annoyance. Deciding he had waited long enough, the general pushed aside his pettiness and went out searching for you, putting on his mask and rushing out the door.

It wasnt long until he found you collapsed on the forest floor, seemingly in a pool of dark red liquid. With eyes wide and heart becoming heavy as stone dropping into his stomach, he ran quickly to your side, holding your body up to his chest as his long black and red streeked hair caged around you. It wasn't long until you emerged from the sudden movement, tiredly looking into the glistening tear filled eyes of the general. squinting your eyes you groggily groaned and hissed in pain, Lilia gasping at your concious state.

"Lilia...?" the fae looked around in a slight panic, eyes wide as he realized you were also able to speak.

"Quick, where were you harmed? I could not find an entrance wound, we must hurry and put pressure on it before-" you cut him off as you grasped the situation in its entirety now with a breathy laugh, Lilia looking at you with furrowed eyebrows eith a frown to match painted upon his beautiful tear stained features.

"This isnt funny," he snapped, "You could-" noticing how well you were able to function despite the seeming severity of the situation, he realized something must have been amiss. Lilia took a moment to look around once more to analyze a second time, seeing the tipped over basket of red berries.... The way you were laying...the buldge of your swollen ankle...using a finger he dipped it in the red liquid and brought it up to his lips, tasting it. ah. He understood now.

Suddenly dropping you and turning his back, you could feel the heat of embarassment radiating off of the soldier. To cover his red face, Lilia placed his mask back on and began to take a step away from you.

"Wait, wait! Liliaaa," you whined, "that hurt! When you dropped me! I sprained my ankle and fell on my Back. Would you please pity me? Just a little?" He stopped his movements from advancing forward back to the enterance of the forest, before taking a deep annoyed sigh and turning around to help you up.

He placed you on his back, the powerful fae hoisting you up and using his arms to interlock your knees and elbow supporting your bum. Your arms wrapped around his neck and your head peaked out from between his shoulder and neck. It was silent for a moment, and no more than that before you immediately broke the silence (not to his suprise).

"Were you crying, oh great and powerful general?" You cooed into his ear, Lilia immediately groaning in annoyance.

"If you do not shut your mouth, i'm leaving you here to rot. And I cannot believe you fell asleep on the forest floor, that was incredibly foolish," he chastised you. With a shrug of your shoulders you tilted your head in thought.

"Well, I was tired. My ankle hurt, and I was sad, so...it felt like the world was telling me to take a nap? I guess?" You laughed. Scoffing at your silly reasoning, Lilia simply rolled his eyed and continued forth towards the cottage. Another moment of silence rang before, of course, you interupted the peace once more.

"Why? Do you care about me?~" you teased. Another groan.

"Yes." He replied coldly and quickly, leaving the smile wiped off your face and jaw to the floor. Finally you allowed the silence to take over as heat crept up your muddied cheeks.

It was silent all the way back to the cottage, through to the moments of Lilia running a bath for you, to him bandaging your sprained ankle as you sat on your plump bed.

"If you continue to stare at me, you're going to burn a hole into my head. Spit it out, what do you have to say?" He finished putting away the bandages and folded his arms, looking at you- who now had a smug satisfied smile plastered on your lips. He already knew what you were going to say, you were all too predictable. And he had his answer ready, too.

"Ah, I think I just feel deeper in love with you..." You sighed dramatically, your hands over your heart before abruptly grabbing hold of Lilias hands, with the same stars in your eyes as the day he first met you.

"Will you-"

"Yes."

You blinked

Once, twice, four times. You had to shake your head roughly to clear out your ears to be sure they were functioning properly.

"Wait- you dont even know what I was gonna-"

"You were going to ask my hand in marriage again, yes?" He asked, a smirk coyly forming on his lips, his fang poking out ever so slightly.

"Well, yeah," you laughed awkwardly, "But I'm pretty sure I heard you say that wrong- did you say-"

"I said yes. I will marry you, human." He cut you off once more, looking away with flushed cheeks. "Don't make me say it twice."

...

"And that is how your (co parent) and I got engaged!" The short haired fae smiled proudly as you groaned, face burried in your hands. The young boys looked at you in awe, as the small silver haired one poked you to get your attention.

"Were you really like that?" Silver asked, Lilia interjecting himself before you had even the chance to defend yourself.

"Yes! They were rather clingy and outspoken. A far cry from now, wouldn't you say? Perhaps ten years of marriage makes one dull, you have lost your charm, my dearest!" You rolled your eyes and let out a scoff of laughter towards your fae husband.

"More like you stole it from me," you huffed, "How does one as old as you become so childish and carefree? sebek, silver, would you even believe me when I said he was so cold and mean towards me in my youth?" You pouted. The two boys shook their head, causing Lilia to let out a hearty laugh in response. Sighing with defeat and a smile upon your lips, you pushed Lilias face away from your own as he floated towards you with puckered lips.

"Alright boys, time for bed." Without protest the two had gotten ready and tucked into bed, leaving you and Lilia alone in the living room.

"You didn't have to tell them that," you huffed as Lilia trailed kisses down your neck, "I was not THAT ooverbearing! I mean, of course I had my moments..." With a raised eyebrow Lilia challenged that statement with the look in his eyes.

"It was your perserverance that attracted me to you, my dearest. It is nothing to be ashamed of, I assure you! If anything, you could be a little more... Clingy..." His voiced turned into a low sensual growl as his lips captured your own, pressing back with equal force as his hands began to wander under the hem of your shirt...

"Am I interuptting?" A familiar voice called out, causing you to gasp and push away a chuckling Lilia.

"Ah...Malleus. Im sorry, how long have you been here, exactly...?" You inquired. The draconic fae sitting on the couch tilted his head curiously, "you truly havent noticed? I have been here this entire time." Awkward silence rang for a moment and nothing more than a moment, before Lilia grabbed your hand and began to tug you towards your private quarters. With mischief in his eyes and voice sweet as honey, he leaned into your ear to whisper;

"Let us renew those wedding vows, shall we, my lovely spouse?"

Masterlist

[therookieimagines]

Not that he cares..or anything - Tim Bradford X fem!reader 2/?

Summary: After being released from the hospital Tim is quick to make sure you’re taken care of with a place to go..even if that’s his house, but don’t get it wrong now lovelies..it’s not that he cares about you..or anything.. ;)

Warnings: past mentions of being shot, PTSD flashbacks for you and Bradford, Tim crying..a lot..panic attacks, mentions of killing somebody, guilt and regret of killing a ‘suspect’

After being released from the hospital, you didn't really have anywhere to go, but you knew you needed clothes, all your belongings, etc. While everybody offered to go with, you knew it needed to be done on your own. Tim knew better, through his year of training and chasing you around, he knew you were stubborn and wanted to do things on your own no matter the pain it caused you, so he followed you, waiting outside for you to come out. Anxiety sank in whenever he realized you hadn't come out in over twenty minutes.

As you entered your hallway you felt every muscle in your body tighten, falling against the wall, desperate to catch your breath as the memories flashed freshly in your brain, you could feel your pain all over again. As Tim walked inside he heard your cries, trying to push down his own PTSD to find you. You screamed as you felt hands on your body, attempting your training to take down the threat, but this time the 'threat' easily grabbed your hands holding them in front of you "Y/n, y/n, It's Tim, you're okay, nobody is trying to hurt you, I won't allow them" he whispered, you immediately let yourself fall into his arms, wrapping your own around him "I can't do it! I c-can't be here!" You sobbed, he held onto you tightly, not letting you fall once, he had made a promise to himself, he'd never let you fall, and if you did? he'd be there.

Tim never realized he was crying until he finished packing your clothes, he had sent you to his truck, knowing it'd be easier for him to grab your things than it would be for you, before he realized it the sadness turned into anger, which turned into having to pull his fist out of your hallway wall, where your blood stain was still splattered. He couldn't help it, what if he had been a minute later? What if you died? "Tim.." You whispered standing in the doorway, your body shaking like a scared puppy, but standing your ground to get your friend from the home. "I..I didn't think about a place to go" You mumbled disappointed "Don't talk like that, you're staying with me" He whispered carrying your bag to you sighing "I also got your side table contents" He whispered smirking resting a hand on your shoulder leading you back to the truck as your cheeks went bright red with embarrassment "It was..clean" You mumbled, not wanting to look him in the eye "I would assume" He chuckled "You can have my bed, I'll take the couch" he explained driving to his house "After I go back to work next week I'll take an extra break to take you to any appointments or to check on you" He spoke parking in his usual parking spot.

"I can't take your bed! It's huge!" You gasped flopping down onto it "Oh my God it's like a cloud" You whispered, Tim rushed over, ghosting his hands over your gunshot wound "Careful!" He lectured looking at your shirt back to you "I don't want you bleeding everywhere" He basically whined, you rolled your eyes sitting up watching as he started grabbing your clothes he had packed "What're you doing?" You asked suspiciously "Getting you night clothes, you need to shower because one you smell like a hospital and it stinks, two we gotta change that bandage before you go to bed" He explained nonchalantly, you couldn't help but watch in awe, nobody cared for you that much other than your great grandmother who passed whenever you were still a kid.

"Come on, rookie" Tim encouraged softly as he helped you off of the bathroom counter where he was re-applying your bandages, you gripped his hand tightly in pain, trying to hold back tears, but ultimately failing "Hey, hey, I've got you, let's get you in bed with some pain killers" he encouraged helping you lay down, he wiped your tears helping you take your meds. You laid in bed for what felt like hours, before the door slowly opened shining light in "I can't sleep" You heard Tim whisper "I-I can't..I keep seeing you..lying there.." You could hear the unsteadiness in his voice, like he was on the verge on crying, or had already been crying. He made his way in, sitting down next to you, taking his spot next to you on the bed but still leaving some distance between you. "I-I can't convince myself that you're here..or alive..I just keep seeing your blood" He whispered, you could see in the darkness the way he was staring into the distance, you took the opportunity to close the space and hug him tightly "I'm alive, because of you, Tim" You said, he quickly wrapped his arms around you holding you tight.

It was a few hours before actual reality hit you, you had killed a man, maybe you could’ve handled things differently, de-escalated, maybe if you would’ve never grabbed your gun after he shot you he never would’ve had to die, you didn’t want to kill him though, you were always taught to neutralize the threat to your life in the academy and training, but you never thought you’d actually have to shoot to kill. You didn’t realize you had slowly moved out of bed, now sitting on the back porch trying to stifle your sobs, you felt like this was all your fault, you could’ve done something, your roommate never deserved to die, he just had some issues but everybody had issues. Goosebumps were proudly presenting themselves on your skin, the cold night air blowing against your body violently. “Y/n?..why’re you out here?” Tim asked, seeing your curled up body in the corner of the porch fencing “it’s freezing, it can’t be good for your body right now” he protested walking over wrapping the throw blanket he had been using around your shoulders, lifting you to your feet before feeling your body shake with sobs. “Hey hey, what’s going on? Are you hurt? Y/n come on talk to me” he demanded, you could barely understand what he was saying he was speaking so quickly, but you just walked with him towards the kitchen.

“Tim, I killed someone..I-i shouldn’t have a badge or be a cop” you whimpered looking down at your hands “hey! You did what you had to. You were just following your training and protocol, there was a threat to your life and you took out that threat do you understand me?” His voice was stern, rough almost, but his gaze on you was nothing but caring and sweet. “H-he dropped the gun the minute he shot me..I-i could’ve just..waited for back up-“ he cut your ramblings off “and what? Him to get spooked and take out an on-duty cop? Take out me?” He asked you, not letting up that you were not in the wrong. “He wouldn’t-“ Tim wouldn’t let you finish any excuse you thought of “he would’ve. He would’ve been spooked the second we busted in, y/n. Listen you did the right thing, you followed protocol to a point, I just..I should’ve listened to you whenever you were trying to tell me about him, I just thought it was another one of the stories you tell to fill the silence of the shop..” he whispered hugging you tightly, you accepted the hug gratefully holding onto his arms tightly.

You both ended up just sitting on the couch until sunrise, Tim telling you about the first time he shot someone as a rookie, how it affected him for months, how he got through it, and all it did was help you realize not only that maybe you weren’t as in the wrong as you thought, but also that you were really grateful for Tim Bradford, and from what you’ve heard from Lucy, he was happy to have you as part of his team. You woke up the next morning to everything in your body hurting, not understanding why until you realized you and Tim both had tried to squeeze yourselves on the sofa together, poor Tim hanging halfway off the ledge of the couch, his arms wrapped tightly around you. You weren’t sure if it was for you, or for him to keep himself from falling, but you stayed there, afraid any certain movement might wake up, you knew he was an veteran and with the things he sees in the LAPD, you understood that waking up sometimes could be a spook, especially being so close to someone.

Tim did end up waking up with a startled jump, not remembering how he ended up on the couch in the first place, the last thing he remembered was talking with you about what you two were going to accomplish whenever you got back to work. He took in your frame, your back facing towards him as you counted the threads on the couch cushions, he coughed awkwardly, an attempt to get your attention “are you..counting my threads?..” he asked groggily trying to shriek his eyes from the sun as he sat up to get a better view of your face, that was turning red as a tomato “w-well I- I didn’t want to wake you up by moving b-but I also didn’t want to be creepy and watch you sleep so I-i just-“ he cut you off by smiling at you to your surprise, you thought he’d at least call you weird. “You’re fine, get up let’s get that bandage changed and get you to the doctor, see about getting those stitches out and getting you into work appointed physical therapy” he said standing up, stretching his arms above his head, you couldn’t help but check out his bare chest, you never got a good look in the hospital.

His abs were what you believed every girl and woman’s dream would be, his V line was prominently showing above the waistline of his boxers and night pants, it was like he was sculpted by the gods themselves. “L/n, come on up and at em” he said snapping you out of your obvious staring contest with his torso “S-sorry” you muttered shyly rushing to your feet.

There shall be a part three my lovelies with some smut hidden somewhere in future parts ;)

[antimonyandthyme]

1k; teto/carlos

They don’t fight.

Well. They do, but they fight about things like, who ate the last tangerine, and who gets to drive today, and who left the towel on the floor, snapping and sore at each other for five minutes at most, and then going back to talking like nothing ever happened. So it’s a shock to the system when it’s this bad.

Unlucky race number fifty-something, he’s lost count. Outside and in his head it’s lashing rain. Teto says, “Don’t go out,” and Carlos says, “I’m going to go out.”

He goes out on his bike, and predictably crashes so badly he has to lay on the wet, cold ground for ten minutes to catch his breath and lament everything and everyone in a way he hasn’t done since he was a kid pushed off a track. Funny how he can keep his eyes wide open, staring up at the breaking sky. Then, because there’s nothing else to do, he picks himself up and limps back on shaky legs, an old, beaten dog taken out by something far larger and meaner than he is.

Teto gets one good look at his skinned knees, skinned shins, skinned palms, and starts yelling, purple-red in the face like all of Carlos’s wounds are a personal affront to him.

“Be nicer to me I’m bleeding,” Carlos grits out, when all he means is, Please don’t be angry at me.

They stomp off into separate rooms and it takes Carlos three tries to admit that bandaging his own palms when both palms are scraped is a task too colossal to surmount.

“He worries about you,” Gigi says.

Carlos must look too much like a kicked puppy now for Gigi to step in and help, when it was abundantly clear Gigi had been on Teto’s side since the start of this whole debacle. Heaviness set in his brow when Carlos had insisted on going out, as if a bike ride in a storm could fix anything worth fixing. Carlos worries them all, with his impulses and his tantrums and his body, too soft by half.  

“He’s bad at it,” Carlos says.

“He’s trying,” Gigi says tartly, pulling the bandage tight and making Carlos wince.

Unsurprising that Teto’s loyalty inspires loyalty in return. A shining knight in splendid armour, with the way he rides out so often to Carlos’s defense. Body always half-turned toward the rest of the world, angled to catch a stray bullet meant for Carlos. Flesh is flesh, and anything sharp passes through Teto to carve Carlos up anyway. That doesn’t stop Teto from trying.

“Maybe I don’t want him to be good at it,” Carlos says. “The worrying.”

Gigi gives him a look, like he’s a child. “Then go tell him that.”

He hates being the first one to apologize, because it’s something that’s been stamped out of him for a long time now. Carlos shifts from one foot to another outside of Teto’s room. What he hates worse is the idea that Teto will never speak to him again, even though he knows down to the marrow of his bones he’s being dramatic, that their return policies when it comes to each other have long elapsed.

When he knocks, Teto answers so violent and fast Carlos gets all warm thinking about it, Teto waiting behind that door for Carlos to come.

“All I know how to do is make trouble.”

“All I know how to do is bark,” Teto says. Carlos doesn’t remember a time in which they haven’t been able to meet each other in the eyes, and it’s a chest melting relief, knowing that hasn’t changed.  

“I don’t need anything else,” Carlos says.

“Good, because otherwise you’re shit out of luck.”

Teto reels Carlos in and kisses him, so familiar yet all-encompassing that Carlos begins to crumple. The steady hand on the back of Carlos’s neck holds him up, some supernatural force more powerful than gravity, giving him just enough strength to make it to the bed.

He hits the covers skinned knees first, and makes certain to emit the most pathetic moan of pain.

“Idiot,” Teto says affectionately, reaching down to arrange Carlos just how he likes him, on his back, loose and easy. Carlos makes grabby hands at him.

So that’s not entirely true. There was a time they couldn’t meet each other in the eye, when they were both more stupid and reckless and hungry with each other than they can bear to be now. The sex wasn’t good, and when you’re that age, all sex is supposed to be good. It didn’t make sense. But what actually frightened Carlos was how Teto looked down, looked past him, and Carlos couldn’t figure out what to do with himself when the endless horizon suddenly became a blackhole.

Teto’s mouth is on him, and Carlos is content to lie there and be kissed. It’s all they do nowadays, having gone past rough and too careful to reach this comfortable middle ground. Carlos knows better than to think in forevers, after everything that’s happened, but it’s possible he would like to kiss Teto for the rest of his life. And let himself be kissed by Teto for the rest of his life.

“Gigi bandage you up?”

Carlos nods. “Couldn’t do it myself.”

Teto hums, smug and satisfied. Carlos lets him have this one, leaving the scoreboard between them to continue collecting dust. He tilts his head, an invitation Teto doesn’t need, and Teto licks back into his mouth, hand tangling in Carlos’s hair. Messing it up to match the rest of him, skinned knees and all.

Bastard, Carlos thinks fondly, and tangles his own in Teto’s in return.

It’s hard to describe the taste of Teto, the unique, constant taste of Teto. If Carlos doesn’t know any better, he’d say it tastes of himself.

[savannahsdeath]

Can we get something where Ellie is injured and when reader takes care of her she feels embarrassed bc she doesn't want to seem weak. But then she like starts crying about "not being strong enough" and just have some cute fluff from reader <33

AHHHZHSBHX i love writing fluff sm like its so comforting !!

ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: minors safe i think?? blood, crying

writers note: its kinda short n all but omghauzb i love ellie sm i need to give her a biiiiggg hug and just never let go like😓🩷my poor baby:(

you intensively listened to the sharp ticking of the clock, waiting for something that'd break the cycle. for someone, actually. for your precious girlfriend ellie, which had a patrol somewhere around jackson. you stayed quiet, listening intently for any signs of her. the sounds of the clock in the background seemed to taunt you, like a reminder of how much time was passing and you had to wait even longer to hear news from her.

it was something about midnight when she finally came knocking on the door, completely soaked in freezing rain. her hair was wet, her face drenched, she looked miserable. you rushed to get a towel to help her dry her hair and body.

when you were done you wrapped your hands around her. she hissed and you instantly pulled away, giving her a pout of pure worry and concern. your eyes inspected her body, without effect. your hands reached out for her top, wanting to take it off and look for any injuries, but she firmly gripped your wrists.

"babe, stop." she said, and maybe you'd listen to her, if her voice didn't sound like begging. and if she begged, she was hiding something.

you freed your hands and rolled her shirt up, revealing a nasty wound on her side. it looked like bullet scratch and it was a miracle - a few millimeters to the left and the shot would pierce her waist.

ellie mumbled a quiet 'fuck...' as her attempt to hide it from you failed. she did her best to look unfazed and pretend to not be in pain, knowing it'd only add to the embarrassment.

ellie sighed and pulled your hands away from the wound, pushing you back. she took a deep breath, the pain evident on her face, and rolled her shirt back down.

"it's fine, i'm fine." she falsely reassured, her shaky voice betraying her attempt to sound tough. she forced a weak smile, trying to play down your worries, but you could tell she wasn't okay.

"ellie, you're bleeding!" you shook your head, your eyes darting back and forth from her wound and her face.

you dragged her to the bedroom, taking a first aid kit from the bathroom on the way. she stayed silent as you softly but forcefully sat her on the bed and started preparing everything.

"this will... sting a bit." you warned her before looking at the disinfectant. you knew it'll do way more than just 'sting a bit'.

ellie avoided looking at you, hating how vulnerable the whole situation makes her feel. she gritted her teeth as you started cleaning the wound, trying to maintain her composure as best as she could. you could hear her breathing get heavier as the pain began to set in, but she was too proud to let you see her cry.

as you continued to work, she looked away from you, ashamed that you had to fix her mistakes. she knew she should have been more careful and hated how weak she appeared in front of you.

"i'm sorry for making you do this." she murmured, her voice barely audible.

ellie sucked in a sharp breath and clenched the sheets as you applied the disinfectant. a wave of pain washed over her, but she managed to stay silent and hold back a scream.

you finished cleaning the wound and began to bandage it, being careful not to hurt her any further. as you worked, you heard ellie sniffle as she struggled to hold back her emotions. you looked up and saw that ellie is watching you with a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment. her eyes were glistening with unshed tears and she was biting her lip to hold back a wail of agony and relief.

"thank you..." she whispered, her voice breaking.

"don't mention it." you said, your eyes full of sympathy for your suffering girlfriend. you gave her a reassuring smile, best you could manage as her pain hurt you too.

ellie took a deep breath, trying to compose herself as the pain subsided, but she couldn't hold back her tears any longer. she buried her face in her hands as she sobbed bitterly, her whole body shaking with emotion.

you gently wrapped her in a hug, holding her tight to give her some comfort. you whispered reassuring words in her ear, trying to calm her down.

"it's alright- sh, shhh..." you stroked her hair in an attempt to provide some solace. "i'll always be here for you, love."

her arms desperately seeked for support in your body, as her tears slowly dropped and soaked into your shirt.

"how can i keep you safe if i can't even take care of myself?" she mumbled, her voice muffled as her face was pressed against your chest.

you continued to hold ellie in your arms, trying to provide her with the comfort and reassurance she needed.

"you're always taking care of me, and now it's my turn to take care of you." you whispered, gently stroking her hair.

ellie looks up at you, her eyes full of gratitude. you feel her embrace tighten as she clings to you for support.

"my strong, amazing els." you smile, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead.

you held ellie for what seemed like an eternity, neither of you wanting to let go anytime soon. as you continued to cradle her in your arms, you could feel her warm tears running down your chest, now even beneath your shirt.

you felt her begin to calm down, her sobs easing up and her grip on you gradually loosening. suddenly, she pressed her body against you even tighter, almost like she was afraid of losing you after you've provided her with such comfort.

"i love you." she whispered, burying her head in your chest.

you continued gently stroking ellie's hair, unable to stop smiling at her confession.

"i love you too." you whispered back, as if you just shared a really important secret with her, hugging her tightly.

you felt her relax, her body going limp as she nestled into your chest. it felt like time has stopped, and the two of you together in the moment was all that mattered.

you pressed your forehead against ellie's, looking deep into her green eyes.

"always, forever." you added, before sharing your first kiss in a long while.

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow (i finally thought of a title for this)

part 1, prev part

cw: blood

The hospital gets louder and louder by the second. More and more people getting brought into the waiting room, nurses running around to make the tough decision of who needs care and who can come back later. Screaming ensuing when they are told that the pain in their shoulder can wait until the emergency shelters are set up and that those who are bleeding or have broken bones are more important. But even those aren’t as important as the person placed on the gurney, being rushed into surgery.

Dustin knows that it’s out of his hands now. That Eddie is alive enough for it to make a difference. For the chances of a successful surgery to swing right over fifty. A fifty percent chance he’ll see his friend again. Where the blood can be washed off his clothes and be forgotten as long as Dustin keeps his eyes open. Eddie’s dying smile imprinted on the back of his eyelids.

The fifty is a number that Dustin made up. Overheard the doctor say about someone who could very possibly not be Eddie, but he ran with it. Eddie’s a fighter, he proved that in his last moments. Stupid as he was, to run fighting without backup. But he was always a fighter, never a runner. Even if he didn’t quite believe that recently. Dustin knew it in his heart. He just had to figure out a way for Eddie to believe it too.

Maybe then, he’ll stay alive.

“Dustin, you’re next,” Steve says, breaking Dustin away from staring at the swinging hospital doors.

“What, no,” Robin protests. “You need to go back Steve, you’re bleeding again.”

Dustin looks down to Steve’s waist, where the makeshift bandage loosely holds together his broken flesh. Still awaiting an answer how it got there in the first place. Among the spatters of green camouflage, there are patches of dark red. Something’s wrong.

“It’s not mine, we know that. Dustin.” Steve grabs Dustin’s shoulder while he tries to catch a nurse’s attention.

“I’m fine, Steve,” he tries to fight. The pain in his ankle screaming as he tries to stand straight. Tries to prove he’s ok. “See, I’m standing fine.”

Steve scoffs. “And totally not wincing in pain. You need an X-ray, to make sure it’s not broken.”

Nancy comes back from talking to the nurse who helped take Max back, having gotten here before Eddie did. “I felt it before we split up again. It didn’t feel broken.”

“You may be smart, but you’re no doctor.” Steve continues to try to find anyone to take a look at Dustin.

He can notice the wince every time Steve tries to breathe. The patches of red are growing.

“No, I’m not,” Nancy snaps. “But I’m smart enough to know that my torn shirt makes for a shitty band aid. And while it might have been enough then, it is clearly not enough now. You strained yourself while carrying him out of there and it tore open your wounds. Just look at your clothes.”

“Not my blood,” Steve repeats through his teeth. “Excuse me,” he says to a passing nurse. “My friend here had a bad fall, can you check that his ankle doesn’t need anything serious.”

The nurse nods, having Dustin sit on a chair.

“Seriously, Steve. I’m fine. We’re fine. You’re the one that’s not fine here.”

The nurse feels around Dustin’s ankle. “Doesn’t feel like anything’s broken. Someone will find you some tape to wrap it in until we can give it an x-ray to make sure. Try to keep weight off of it for now.”

“Thank you,” Dustin emphasizes, looking up at Steve with a cocky expression. Being right and all.

But it fades as soon as Dustin sees the white of Steve’s face. He’s struggling to breath, gripping the back of a chair with a white knuckles grip.

“Steve,” Robin says alarmed. Grabbing his shoulder and trying to get him to respond. “Steve, what’s wrong?”

Steve pants, trying to get a word out but can only fight to inhale another breath. Nancy rushes to the front desk to get them to phone a doctor.

No one needs to protest to them because Steve just drops. The blood from his clothing starting to seep onto the floor.

“Steve,” Robin yells as she crouches down, reaching to check his pulse. “Someone get a doctor.”

Dustin sits there in shock. Feeling more helpless than he has in years. Frozen, stuck to his chair. As his heart fills his ears and the rest of the room becomes muddy. Movement flashes before his eyes.

A gurney gets brought over; Steve’s limp body laid on it while nurses say a mess of medical jargon to each other. Wheeling him behind the double doors, right up to the surgery suites. Paperwork getting thrown into Nancy’s hands, her and Robin filling in the blanks so it can get started.

Dustin’s only seen Steve pass out once before. At the Byers when Billy hit his head so hard it knocked him out. Where the only way to get Billy to stop was for Max to stab him with a sedative. But that could be fixed with bags of frozen peas, wet rags, and colorful bandages. Then, he knew Steve was going to wake up again.

This. This was far beyond anything Dustin’s ever seen. He’s seen the black eyes, the split lips. Being drugged and the red marks of rope around his wrists. But never this much blood. Never this white. Never this scary.

Somehow, Dustin gets back home. He remembers his mom coming to the hospital, wrapping up his foot in a makeshift brace. Robin helping her get him to the car. He remembers protesting. Wanting to stay until Steve and Eddie made it out of surgery. Until Max’s bones were reset. Robin told him it was too crowded for people just waiting around. It was better for him to be at home than taking a chair from someone who needed it.

But what about her? What about Nancy? Weren’t they going to stay? They didn’t seem like they were going to leave. The day had been long. They were running on fumes and whatever adrenaline hadn’t crashed yet. They all needed sleep, they needed to go home too. But Robin turned right around and went through the hospital entrance again. Leaving Dustin out of the loop.

He’s not just some kid who doesn’t know anything. He deserves to stay. Steve was like a brother to him, like family. Bound by a pact. “You die, I die.” Why should Steve have to die when Dustin’s safe at home in his own bed?

Dustin sends out a message on the radio when he gets home. To let whoever is listening know he’s safe. Lucas radios back that him and Erica made it home safe. They’re still shaken up, and Erica is hiding behind her locked bedroom door. But they’re safe.

Twice in one day, two people Dustin loves put themselves at risk in the name of keeping him safe. Of helping him. Like he’s some child on the sidelines who can’t do anything for himself. Which isn’t true. Dustin’s not twelve years old wandering around the woods looking for his lost friend anymore. Spinning in circles to try and find out why his compass wasn’t working.

That was still dangerous. Throwing rocks at the Demogorgon was dangerous. And he was fine. Traumatized, but fine. He wasn’t some dumb kid who needed constant protecting. He didn’t need to be put above his friends just because of his age.

Especially when it is the reason both of them are in the hospital right now.

When Dustin lays down to sleep that night, he ends up staring at the ceiling. The lights of the hospital blinding him every time he closes his eyes. The face of fear Steve made right before he dropped. The blank look of Eddie’s eyes as he took his last breath.

Both of them might still be alive. Both of them might be dead. But he won’t know that until the morning because he’s here instead of the hospital. Here in a bed where he can’t sleep because all he can think of is the possibilities of what could be happening in that operation room. What could be happening in that hospital across town. What happened right before his eyes and terrified him to the very bone.

For two people who did everything just to make sure he was safe, they didn’t think about what would happen as he saw the consequences of those actions right before his very eyes. At this point, Dustin would much rather prefer a hospital bed and a few bites of his own than to wonder if his friends are still alive.

Next part

Note: Chapter one of this fic is now posted on ao3, if you wish to follow it there. The first chapter is the first four parts, the Wayne POV, the next will be the section of Dustin POV's, and so on. I am also changing the main tag for this from morgan's wayne pov to #chills right to the marrow fic, since that is now the title.

tag list, let me know if you want to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondepresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

[somethingstrangeishere]

TW: leprosy

Baldwin IV with his mommy 🥺

She tries to cheer up her precious boy by doing something sweet for him.

"No, my dear, those bandages don't make you any worse! Please stop putting yourself down for how you look...Look, I made a bow for you! You're cute. I love you, Baldwin."

***

I don't know if you've ever had similar thoughts...I just felt like speaking up. Honestly, it's very hard to put my thoughts and convey what I'm feeling (I'm not a writer and also not a native English speaker), and to be completely honest, as I think about it, my heart hurts and my eyes water. So if you read this - thank you, and sorry for taking up your time. If not - well, I've eased my soul one way or another by speaking out.

***

My heart melts at the thought of a warm, understanding and trusting relationship between parents and children, and I also love the dynamics of family relationships. In this context, mother/son. I don't know, and no one knows anymore, about the relationship Baldwin had with his mother, whether they were close, but I'm not relying on historical reference, but on my interpretation and feelings.

For a good loving mother, her child is the best, the most precious, the most loved and desired. But life does not always turn to you and your child in a good way. Some people are unlucky - whether you are a king or a peasant, a sinner or a saint - fate does not care.

How does a mother feel when her son is mortally ill? Put yourself in her shoes. Just try it.

***

You hold your newborn baby in your arms. Here it is, your little bundle of joy, so tiny, so adorable... You want to give him all the best, now your whole world is him, your little angel!

Your son is growing up, taking his first steps, saying his first words. You dream about his future, you love him so much...

Time passes, you live in love and care for him. And you hope that it will always be like this - or as long as possible...

...Now forget about it.

Suddenly you are hit with devastating news - your son has leprosy. It knocks you off your feet, it chokes you, it tramples you into the ground, tears your heart to pieces. At that moment, as soon as you find out, you see nothing in front of you and hear nothing. Your mind is empty, and there is only one thought of your son, your treasure. Doomed, cursed. If there really is a God, why did he let this happen? Why your child? They say leprosy is a curse from God. Why curse an innocent child?!

Pain, despair, anguish. You want to weep, You want to grab your son, hold him close and never let go. You realise he's doomed. But he doesn't realise it yet.

As time goes on, his health gets worse. Your baby does not understand what is happening to him - he is scared, he is confused, he is waiting for your support and comfort. You smile at him, you give him everything you can - but inside your heart is pounding and tearing as if it were breaking your ribs. Every night you're choked with tears. Your son is your flesh and blood, you gave him life, you brought him into this world, you condemned him to this existence...

Time passes, you do your best, but it seems as if God himself has turned away from you. You pray to all the saints, you beg the Virgin Mary - she is a mother too, she must hear, she cannot fail to understand! But nothing changes.

Your son is growing up, and every year his condition gets worse. His skin is covered with leprosy spots. His eyesight is getting worse. He's always tired, he can't live without the help of doctors and medicines. He's rotting alive. People look askance. People judge. People see a monster. All you see is your angel. Every day you swear to love and care for him, swear you won't leave him...

***

A young 16 years old boy wins a battle. How proud you are of him! How weak his body is, but how strong his spirit. But he too has his moments of vulnerability...

...Especially when he fully realises he doesn't have long to live. He seems to accept it - or pretend to accept it...

How do you feel?

How a mother might feel when she realises that she may see her son die? Bury the one she brought into this world. To live to see that moment is something she doesn't want to do.

Thank you if you read to the end! I'm crying right now😭

[behindthesoul]

Hello!

Getting back into MK I was wondering how would Kenshi, Johnny and Raiden react if they were told that S/O had gone missing on Mission possible dead, and after a few days their s/o shows up bruised and snapped up but live?

Missing Mission

Masterlist

Warnings: bad injuries, hospitalization, alcohol mentions, not proofread, not my highest quality work

Kenshi

Silent and brooding.

One could practically feel the anger that seeped out his bones. If looks could kill, everyone in Kenshi’s vicinity would be dead; not many would risk their lives by making direct eye contact with him, even though they’re covered in red cloth.

Saying he was pissed off would be a complete understatement. The two of you had been together for about three years now. Kenshi thought of your future together daily - what do you mean it’s being taken away?

In quiet moments alone, Kenshi thinks about where you could be. You must be so scared, so alone, so injured…that is, if you were even alive. He chokes back tears at the pain of not having the closure of knowing what happened to you.

Weeks later, Kenshi’s semi-adjusted to his normal routine. He grieves you daily, but it’s mostly kept inside. He arrives home one day to feel that something’s off; something isn’t right. Sento in hand, he walks through his house, trying to figure out what was happening.

He eventually makes his way to the kitchen where you sat. You nurse a glass of whiskey and smirk.

“Took you long enough to get here. I’ve been waiting all day.”

Kenshi freezes, he doesn’t know if it’s truly you or if this is just some sick joke. You get off the chair you’re in, grunting in pain as your feet hit the ground, and walk over to him. Kenshi knows everything is real when your hand reaches over to caress his face.

He frowns as he feels a bandage wrapped around your hand. His frown morphs into a scowl after he leans over to plant a kiss on your lips, noting how you slightly wince from a small bruise that was planted in the area.

He pulls back and doesn’t know what to say. His breath is a bit shaky and his mind is racing. Words couldn’t explain the anguish of your disappearance, and the joy of your return. Kenshi wishes he could see you again, to be able to get a proper look at your injuries.

Your pain is temporarily ignored when you kiss him again.

Johnny

Uncharacteristically silent. Panic sets in almost immediately. I feel like Johnny would blame himself just a little bit. He already fucked up one relationship, why did he let another slip out his hand? What’s wrong with him?

Days turned into weeks, and Johnny spent each moment wallowing in pity. The pity soon becomes bitterness; no one could recognize who he was becoming.

It’s not long before Johnny forces himself to at least try to return to his normal self. He goes back to being the life of the party, cracking jokes left and right. Though, many notice that his jokes become more dry and lifeless.

He spends a lot of time outside. Home just isn’t the same anymore; it’s devoid of any love and laughter. Johnny only arrives home to sleep, only to feel his heart break once again as he crawls into an empty bed.

A month or two passes before Johnny gets a sudden call. It’s from the hospital, telling him that you’ve been found and-

Nothing else was heard. Johnny immediately raced to the hospital, possibly breaking several traffic laws in the process. Whoops.

He rushes into the hospital and finds your room in record time. Johnny feels his body getting heavier at the sight of you laying in the hospital bed, beaten and bruised. He couldn’t even begin counting the amount of injuries you had. Walking over to your bed and taking your hand in his, Johnny allows a few tears to fall.

You’re home, but you’re not okay.

Raiden

Quan Chi and Shang Tsung had escaped from their prison cells in Sun Do. Liu Kang sent you to Outworld to track them both down. You went alone, as Liu Kang had full faith and your abilities. He also wanted this mission to be completed as quietly as possible; the sorcerers would no doubt flee if they heard many Earthrealm champions were after them.

Your boyfriend didn’t hear about your mission until you already left. Raiden, just coming back from a mission of his own, was a bit upset that he didn’t get the chance to at least say goodbye.

He kept himself busy while waiting for your arrival. He hung out with Kung Lao, ate at Madam Bo’s, and spent time at the Wu Shi Academy. One week, you’d be back in one week. He could handle that.

But a week quickly became a month. Raiden definitely panicked but did his best to ease his own nerves. Lots of deep breathing and redirecting any negative thoughts that try to plague his mind.

Jumps into hero mode when Liu Kang confirms that you’ve truly gone missing. Helps plan an entire rescue mission and plans to find you alone. Liu Kang has to reel Raiden back to make sure he isn’t getting himself into trouble.

Along with a few other allies, Raiden travels to Outworld. He is met by Mileena and Kitana who assist with the search. Millions of thoughts of you being dead run through his mind and he, once again, forces those thoughts away.

The search only lasts for a few days before you’re found near a swamp behind Shang Tsung’s old laboratory. You set up a temporary shelter there so you could nurse your injuries; broken ribs, deep bruises and gashes, and a sprained ankle.

Raiden lets out a huge sigh of relief and rushes over to you. He hugs you as firmly as he can without hurting you more. Raiden looks into your eyes and shows a small smile.

“Just when I thought you were lost forever.”

Mileena and Kitana have you escorted to the palace infirmary where you stay until you’re fully healed. Raiden stays with you the entire time, making sure you never lift a finger.

[puripurin]

Idea from @littlekohai77. You are the real G for this. It was altered so that it could fit this story, BUT there will be one where cute yan monster's darling meets his mom. Reader is female.

— Sometimes, you wish you had the balls to say no to your friends. This was seriously not cool of them... along with the other times. This time, though, you finally had the realization that your friends are shitty people because you are tied up to a tree. In the middle of the forest. For like, 4 hours now.

Darkness was starting to set in, and you were hungry because before this, you only ate granola bars and drank water. You were also in pain from when you decided to escape and tried to break free, but all you got were rope burns that were painful.

You sighed as you knocked your feet with one another out of sheer boredom. There was no way you were going to make it out alive. Even if you tried screaming (which you'd have done and your throat is extremely hoarse), you were deep into the forest, and you haven't seen a single soul pass by you.

Well, that was until you heard the crunch of leaves, and it seemed it was heading towards you! How lucky you were! You made sure to move around a lot and tried to use your weak voice to bring the person over to you. You were happy until you realized the person you were luring to you wasn't exactly a person.

A horned monser stood in the corner of your eyes. If you could scream, you would've, but you looked away and closed your eyes. It was like it instantly burned into your eyes, with its deep red eyes and short black fur.

As you waited for death, it never came with only a wet nose being pressed on your cheek, and it went lower and lower until it reached your crotch which you closed your legs and twisted your lower half away from it. The monster growled lightly before slasch at your bindings and carried you in his arms. You momentarily celebrated before realizing you were going to probably get eaten to death by this monster. You sighed and thought about your family and not your ex-friends, which made you fall asleep in the monster's arms.

"WOAHHHHH!" The 7 year old boy said in amazement. He was bouncing around in excitement and made you giggle.

"Daddy is super cool! He saved mommy from danger!" This was your son, Aimilios, the child you had with Kaiser, the monster that had saved you. It was a bit too early to put this out there, but Aimilios was too excited and interrupted.

"Okay, okay. Calm down, don't you want to know what happens next?" You reasoned with your child, which made him stop before sitting down close to you in silence and staring like a puppy. You pulled him closer and rubbed his head.

"Now, what happened after...? Oh right!" You chuckled as you reminiscence on the past.

When you woken up, you were covered in a fur sheet, and there was a fire to the side of you, warming you up. It seemed you were now in an abandoned building. Looking around, everything was worn down, but it was clean.

"You. Awake." A low gruff voice made you jump in fear. The monster appeared with a fraying picnic basket in its teeth. You scrambled behind you, only to hit your head on a broken table leg.

"Fuck... that hurts..." You rubbed the area and brought down your hand only to see blood. Looking back, there was blood on the area that your head it, and it was slightly sharp.

"Human. Hurt. Self?" It spoke once more before dropping the basket near you and going back into the darkness for something.

When the monster came back, there was a scratched up med kit with a dried blood splatter in its mouth. It sat right in front of you and placed down the kit to take out the bandages.

You carefully watched the monster as it slowly wrapped your head in bandages and then used medical grade tape to make sure it wasn't going to come off...

"And the rest is history. It took a while for me to warm up to your daddy, but when I fell in love, it hit me hard." You kissed his head, but your child had something on his mind.

"But... what about mommy's bad friends?" He looked up at you with his cute little doe eyes.

"Well, it was a couple of months later when you were still in mommy's belly."

You yawned as you walked through the hallways of the abandoned building you were living in with Kaiser. At this point, your pregnant belly was obvious even with the loose clothes you wore. It was 1 pm, and you had just woken up. Kaiser was out hunting food, and you stayed here cleaning up and making the abandoned building more like home.

What you weren't expecting was a bright flashlight being shined in your face. There were a lot of shocked gasps as you covered your eyes.

"Heh, is that really you, [Y/n]?" Now that was one of your ex-friend's voices. He lowered his flashlight and saw your pissed off face.

"Hooo! You're massive now! Huh, look, guys, the skeleton has turned into a whale now. Who's the bum that impregnated you? Hahahaha!" One of the girls joked and mocked you.

"You guys sure have a lot of balls coming back to the forest where one of your ex-friends could have possibly died, and the first thing you do is mock my body and its father?" You rolled your eyes and shook your head.

"Hahaha, you're just a waste of space. Why should we care?" It was almost comical with the way they acted. Were these people humans or cartoon characters?

"Okay, since I don't want to be the one to get blamed when you die, please get the fuck out of this place. Now." You crossed your arms and made your voice firm. Even if they were acting like bitches, you still wanted them to live on with their mistakes.

"Oh? Is this cunt speaking back to us? Guys, should we teach this pregnant cow a lesson." To which all 4 persons agree in unison. The tallest punched you in the face before grabbing you and taking you outside and tied you to a tree. You sighed and shook your head.

"Back to where you were, huh? Not so fiesty now, eh?" One said, and you were contemplating things. Too bad you didn't need to think that far as one of them got thrown to the ground and got badly injured.

"I won't go into detail of what happened, but the aftermath was bad for me. I wasn't able to leave my room until I gave birth to you, only to find out that I couldn't interact with other people and leave the house to get supplies. Ridiculous, right??" You huffed and puffed out your cheeks to make your son feel angry as well.

"But you never step foot outside because you wanted to! They forced you outside!" He pouted and crossed his arms, making him look extremely cute.

"But, if he wasn't there, I would have never gotten to see your cute face. Now it's time to go to sleep. Mommy will make your favorite food in the morning if you do." Instantly, he hopped into bed and snuggled into the sheets with his eyes closed shut.

"Goodnight, Amy." You kissed his forehead before turning off the light and leaving the room.

As you walked down the hallways, you heard footsteps. You smiled and turned around behind you to run towards Kaiser, only to get hit in the head by a hanging piece of metal. Tears pricked your eyes as you bent down in pain.

"Ah... my clumsy wife hurts herself again. How foolish of her..." You slapped Kaiser's leg as he made fun of you again. "You're such a bully!" You sniffled.

"Oh? But don't you like taking this so-called "bully's" cock?" You face flushed in embarrassment, and as if the pain disappeared, stood up and started hitting him in his chest. "Now you're really making me regret teaching you english!!" You turned away from him and pouted.

"Oh, you regret it now? Let's see if you'll regret when I stuff this thick—"

"AHHHH--- LALALA, I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!" You said as you ran away from him.

Anyways 🐀,,, for the introduction for his papa, it is tame because this (y/n) was obscuring most of what happened because be realistic here, are you going to tell a child how you saw one of your friends get mauled in front of your eyes. So, there will be the actual intro post for Kaiser without Aimilios being told the story of how they met.

I thought it would be a fun exercise to do because,,, why not? Belehhhh.

Nir proofread.

[spitefulsatanfics]

❝Flour, Firearms, and Fondant❞

“I torture all my victims. That’s how I get my kicks.”

— Alastair, Supernatural S4E15

= ° = ° = ° = ° = ° =

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (She/Her)

Fandom: Supernatural

Tone: Domestic Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Comedic Fluff, Cozy Post-Hunt Relief, Canon-Compliant S4 Vibes

Rating: 17+ (language, sensual themes, post-violence injury care) — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Based on: Supernatural, Season 4 (post-4x12 “Criss Angel Is a Douchebag,” pre-4x16 “On the Head of a Pin”)

(Note: TV-MA / 17+ series)

Word Count: 5,917

Synopsis:

After a brutal hunt leaves them bruised and breathless, Dean Winchester is ready to hit the road again—but Y/N has other plans. One sign. One sleepy town. One pie contest. And suddenly, “saving people, hunting things” includes preheating the oven and getting flour in unholy places.

⟡ typed & baked with love — 05.18.2025™

= ° = ° = ° = ° = ° =

I. Cold Open — The Firefight

Moonlight cut through the hollow shell of the abandoned church like a blade, slicing into the warzone below. Shattered stained glass pooled across the floor in blood-coloured shards. Latin reverberated in haunting echoes from the altar where Y/N stood, voice steady despite the tremble in her ribs.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus—”

Dean moved like a storm just behind her, shotgun raised, demon blade already wet. He didn’t take his eyes off the advancing demons long enough to check her back—because he didn’t have to. They fought like an old ritual. A violent liturgy.

"Right flank!" she shouted.

He pivoted, shooting a demon square in the chest with a devil’s trap round, sending it staggering. Another surged toward them. Dean ducked the punch, landed a brutal stab through its gut, and turned—just in time to see Y/N get slammed against the altar, spine-first. The breath whooshed from her lungs.

Dean roared. Not a scream, but a guttural sound—rage in its rawest form.

She kept going, voice cracking on the final chant, "…ut inimicos tuos fugiant!"

Light burst from the possessed man’s eyes as the demon was torn free, black smoke shattering the shadows.

Dean moved fast. He stabbed the final one through the heart as it lunged at her, then dropped beside her just as she sank to her knees.

“Easy, sweetheart. I gotcha.”

Blood marred her lip, one hand clutched her side. “Ribs,” she gasped, giving him a lopsided grin. “Cracked...maybe. Definitely not kissing later.”

Dean huffed out a breath. “Damn it, Y/N.”

Sam’s voice crackled over the walkie from a distance, breathless. “You two alright?”

Dean didn’t answer immediately. His hand pressed firm to her back as he helped her up. “We’re peachy,” Y/N wheezed.

Dean’s jaw clenched. “Let’s get the hell out of Dodge.”

= ° = ° = ° = ° = ° =

II. Present Day — Exhaustion and Pie Promises

The Impala purred down a quiet two-lane highway. The Nebraska horizon stretched golden and endless, like God had taken a break from smiting and tried his hand at painting wheat fields instead.

Y/N leaned against the passenger window, wincing every time the car hit a bump. Bandages wrapped snug around her ribs beneath her hoodie, her left cheek bruised where a demon’s knuckles had kissed her.

Dean’s hands were tense on the steering wheel. His eyes flicked to her every few minutes like he was waiting for her to pass out again. He didn't say it, but the worry hung thick in the cab like the lingering scent of holy oil.

“They’re getting smarter,” he said finally, voice low. “Faster. Like they were…watching us. Waiting.”

“Yup,” Y/N said. “Creepy demon surveillance. Just what I needed.”

Dean didn’t laugh.

Y/N shifted, gritting her teeth against the pain. “Dean. We’re still breathing. That’s a win.”

He nodded, jaw tight.

Then—salvation.

A billboard rolled past: Welcome to Maple Glen! Home of the Best Pie in the Midwest!

Y/N sat bolt upright, pointing like a divine oracle. “Dean Winchester, if that isn’t a sign from the heavens—”

Dean arched a brow, suspicious. “Pie’s your answer to near-death experiences now?”

“Pie is always the answer,” she said. “And you know it.”

His mouth twitched. “Fine. Pie detour. But I’m not entering any church bake sale.”

Ten minutes later, Y/N had signed them up for the Maple Glen Annual Pie-Off before Dean could blink.

= ° = ° = ° = ° = ° =

III. Baking Bad (And Loving It)

The town hall kitchen smelled like butter, nostalgia, and potential disaster. Gingham curtains. Jars labelled “nutmeg” in swirly handwriting. Locals shuffled about with the focus of Olympic athletes and the sass of PTA moms.

Dean stood frozen, arms crossed, apron tied with resigned doom. It was white. It said Kiss the Cook. Y/N had bribed the old lady at the sign-in desk for it.

“You realize you’re stirring with a butter knife, right?” Y/N teased.

Dean glared. “I kill demons with more finesse than you measure sugar.”

“You’re just mad I’m winning.”

He flicked a dollop of cherry filling onto her cheek in retaliation.

Her gasp was theatrical. Her grin was not. “Dean Winchester.”

“Oops,” he said, utterly unapologetic.

She kissed him anyway.

Flour exploded in the air not long after, the result of a jostled bowl and one very petty pie crust comment. Y/N smeared butter on Dean’s neck. He tackled her, gently, into the counter with a wicked grin.

“I swear to God, you start a food fight in front of a panel of octogenarians—”

Whipped cream flew.

They didn’t stop laughing even when the timer dinged. Or when smoke curled from the edges of their forgotten pie. Or when a fellow contestant hissed, “Your filling is smoking!”

Dean shrugged, lips still on hers. “Still tastes sweet to me.”

= ° = ° = ° = ° = ° =

IV. Epilogue — Post-Pie Peace

The stars came out like old friends. They sat on Baby’s hood, backs warm from the engine, faces lit by the sleepy glow of Maple Glen’s streetlamps.

The pie was burnt. Not entirely inedible, but very much on fire around the edges. Y/N took a cautious bite and winced.

“Could be worse,” she said.

Dean nodded solemnly. “Could be demons.”

She laughed, nudging his shoulder. “You’re ridiculous.”

He turned to her, eyes soft in the darkness. “You okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Thanks to you.”

Dean reached out, brushed a thumb over the healing bruise on her cheek. “Kiss the cook?”

She leaned in.

They kissed—slow and warm and lingering like the end of a song. When they pulled back, the night was quiet around them.

“Tomorrow we go back to saving the world,” she whispered.

Dean’s hand found hers. “Tonight,” he said, “we eat pie.”

= ° = ° = ° = ° = ° =

Flour, Firearms, and Fondant

Written by: 𝙻𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝙳𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚕 ♡ // 05.18.2025™