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helaintoloki · 1 month ago

Note

Hey there! I’ve got a little request for you.

What about a fic where the reader has to go back in time to the 40s (perhaps for an infinity stone? Work it however you want). It’s supposed to be a quick mission. Until they run into a young Bucky.

a/n: hi anon! i hope you don’t mind but i made some tweaks to the request to fit the story i came up with. however, the original idea of reader going to the 40s is still there!

warnings/notes: angst, fluff, sort of an enemies to lovers piece

summary: after accidentally sending yourself back in time, you run into a younger version of the man you loathe only to find yourself questioning your feelings for him

“You’re such a jerk!”

“Oh, so saving your ass makes me a jerk now?” Bucky retorts in annoyed disbelief at your insult. The two of you haven’t exactly been getting along as of late, so it wasn’t a surprise to either of you that your first assignment together was proving to be disastrous.

“Saving me?” You repeat incredulously, halting in your steps to whirl around and angrily point a finger against his chest. The firmness of his muscles has you faltering for a split second, but you’re adamant not to let your stupid little school girl crush on the man stop you from tearing into him.

Sometimes you’re not even sure why you have feelings for someone who constantly pushes your buttons and tests your patience, but it’s hard not to fall for his good looks and charm, especially during the rare moments of pleasantness you experience when he’s not getting on your nerves. You and Bucky rarely see eye-to-eye, and though for the most part you can tolerate each other, your camaraderie doesn’t last long.

“Shoving me out of the way when I had a clear shot isn’t saving me! I had it covered before you decided to play hero and treat me like some damsel in distress!”

“You had a clear shot and so did the sniper sitting on that rooftop,” Bucky points out with an irritated tick of his jaw. “You couldn’t have gotten the hit with a bullet hole in your head.”

You falter momentarily at being presented with your error, face beginning to heat with embarrassment at being in the wrong. However, your stubborn nature takes over and causes you to double down on your anger instead of admitting fault.

“I don’t need your help. In fact, because of your little stunt my inhibitor is broken,” you state indignantly while lifting your wrist to show the damaged metal band, “so now I have no way to safely get us home.”

Bucky blanches at the realization, and now it’s his turn to feel hot with embarrassment and guilt for his mistake. You’re one of the enhanced members on the team, an Avenger with the power to teleport not only from place to place but also through time, but your ability isn’t always the most reliable. It can be unstable when used too often or without proper concentration, which is why Tony had crafted your inhibitor bracelet to ensure you didn’t accidentally teleport yourself or your teammates to the middle of nowhere. You didn’t trust yourself to make the jump back to the compound without it, and now the two of you were stranded.

He curses under his breath and runs an anxious hand through his hair before saying, “We’ll have to call for someone to come get us.”

“No shit,” you retort only to earn an eye roll from him in response. “But that’s going to take hours, and if we stay here we’re dead.”

“Look,” Bucky sighs depreciatively, “we need to figure this out together, so I’d appreciate a little less sarcasm and a little more-“

The sound of gunfire interrupts Bucky’s rant and sends you both ducking for cover. Your arguing had allowed enough time for the enemy to counterattack with an ambush, and now you were cornered with nowhere to go. You find yourself pressed against a metal crate, making yourself as small as possible while trying to form some sort of an exit plan. Your attackers were closing in, and you felt the anxiety beginning to rise in your chest at the fact that you had nowhere left to run.

Bucky calls your name frantically, breaking you out of your panicked daze quickly enough for you to register the woman approaching you with her gun raised. Your eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights, and when she pulls the trigger you feel your powers activate on instinct as you’re teleported out of the line of fire.

You land on the ground with a groan.

Tingles run down your body from the use of your powers, and it takes you a moment to adjust to the new surroundings you find yourself in. The packing warehouse you’d been dodging gunfire fire in is long gone, and instead you find yourself in an alleyway nestled between two apartment buildings. Your mind is frantic as you try to scramble back up onto your feet only to crumple down in pain from your fall. You think you’ve twisted your ankle, and you don’t know where you are or how to get back home.

You attempt to use your powers to jump back to the warehouse to help Bucky, but without the inhibitor bracelet your teleportation has become shoddy. You let your head fall back with a frustrated groan at being completely helpless and try to clear your mind to figure out your next move.

“Excuse me,” an oddly familiar voice calls from the other end of the alleyway, “are you alright, miss?”

You lift your head at the sound of approaching footsteps and are met with a set of kind blue eyes that have your breath catching in your throat. His face is so much younger and full of life, not yet tainted by the trauma he’d endured after the events of the war. He’s beautiful, and you find your heart nearly leaping out of your chest when he makes his way towards you. He reaches out to you with his left hand, and you stare down with uncertainty at the warm flesh that replaces metal.

You’d accidentally sent yourself back in time, and now you found yourself face to face with a Bucky who had yet to become the Winter Soldier.

“I… I’m fine,” you finally manage to get out after willing away your initial shock. You hesitantly accept his hand and are unnerved by the unusual warmth his palm emits against your own. He helps you back onto your feet only for you to stumble as a result of your bad ankle. His strong arms catch you in an instant, holding you upright while you brace yourself against his firm chest.

“Looks like you had quite the fall,” Bucky says with a lighthearted smile while meeting your gaze. You see something shift in his features when he looks into your eyes, an awestruck sense of admiration washing over him as he takes in your disheveled appearance. You begin to fear that he has you figured out, that somehow he knows who you are and that you don’t belong, but instead he merely wipes away a smudge of dirt from your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“You’re a knockout,” he compliments before letting out a sheepish laugh at his own boldness. Your stomach flips at his confession, and you have to stop and remind yourself that this is a completely different Bucky from the one you know. The Bucky you have back at home would sooner call you a pain in his ass than ever call you beautiful.

“Thank you,” you breathe out nervously, flashing him a meek smile while subtly trying to free yourself from his hold. You have no idea what repercussions will come from you interacting with him, and you still need to figure out a way to get back to your own time now that it’s been made clear you sent yourself to the past. You attempt to walk only to wince again at the ache in your leg, something Bucky notices immediately.

“You’re hurt. Let me take you home with me, my Ma can fix you right up and get you something to eat,” he offers only for you to quickly shake your head.

“I couldn’t impose. I’ll be fine, really,” you try to assure him, but your obvious discomfort isn’t very convincing.

“Nonsense. What kind of a man would I be if I left you here in this dingy alleyway to fend for yourself? My mother raised me better than that.”

You can’t help the soft smile that forms on your lips at his kindness. Steve had often mentioned how charming Bucky was in his younger days, how he had swept countless girls off their feet with his chivalrous nature and good looks. Bucky would always grumble about his friend’s need to exaggerate on the details of the past, but you were now seeing firsthand the truth to the Captain’s stories.

You know you shouldn’t, but you can’t stop yourself from finally relenting to Bucky’s request. How can you deny him when he flashes you such an endearing grin and looks upon you with eyes full of tenderness? You expect him to take your hand or give you his arm to steady yourself for the walk home, but he instead surprises you by literally sweeping you off of your feet and carrying you in his arms. You gasp, fingers anxiously clutching at the fabric of his dress shirt while you look to him with wide eyes; his strength is unwavering, and his lips sport a proud grin as he whisks you away to his apartment.

“Don’t worry, honey. I’ve got you.”

Your inner turmoil is almost unbearable as you struggle to comprehend the sweetness of this Bucky in comparison to the brooding nature of your own Bucky. You’re not used to such acts of chivalry or flirtatious remarks, and it certainly doesn’t help alleviate the crush you harbor on your teammate. If anything, you’re even more confused now than you’ve ever been when it comes to your feelings for the Winter Soldier. You’re adamant about not falling into the fantasy, about staying focused on the task at hand, but it’s hard to do so when Bucky is so obviously sweet on you.

“I’ve just realized I don’t know your name,” he notes thoughtfully. “Most guys usually know the name of the girl they plan to bring home to their mother.”

“Y/n,” you reply gently despite the heat that spreads across your face at his jest, not even sure if giving your real name is the right move.

“Y/n,” he repeats sweetly, devoid of the usual tone of annoyance or irritation you’re used to. “I think that suits a pretty girl like you. My name is James, but most people just call me Bucky.”

“I like James,” you admit truthfully while avoiding his burning gaze. “I think it suits a gentleman like you.”

“A gentleman, huh? Mom will proud to hear that.”

You find yourself subtly sneaking a glance at his face while he speaks, unable to resist drinking in the details of a younger, innocent Bucky who has yet to endure the horrors his future has in store for him. He exuded confidence and light, and you could see why girls would throw themselves at his feet just to see his smile. This Bucky was full of hope, and your chest ached at having to keep what you knew about him hidden. You couldn’t risk stirring up trouble in the past by telling him what would take place after being shipped off to England and meddling with a future that had already been set in stone, and you knew he might not even believe you anyway. You had no choice but to keep your mouth shut and maintain your composure until you managed to get back to the present.

You eventually make it to his apartment and find your stomach twisting with nerves as Bucky carefully sets you down so he can unlock the door. You’re not sure how you’re going to handle meeting his mother or setting foot into his childhood home, and the entire situation feels much too intimate for you to bear. You’re an intruder in his life, the one he kept close to his chest away from everyone but Steve, and you wonder how much he’ll hate you for this when you finally get back.

“Let’s get you inside,” James urges, gently guiding you through the doorway while being mindful of your bad leg. He lets you hold onto his arm while escorting you towards the couch. The living room is quaintly decorated with photos and antique furniture, and the floral patterned wallpaper reminds you of the one your grandmother had kept in her home. The smell of a freshly cooked meal wafts through the apartment, and from the distance you can hear the quiet crackle of the kitchen radio playing a tune.

“Wait right here,” he says with a wink before disappearing down the hallway and leaving you to your own devices. You debate making your escape while he’s gone in order to avoid delving deeper into Bucky’s past life, but you know you won’t get far with a twisted ankle. Instead, you choose to quickly comb your fingers through your hair and dust yourself off to make yourself somewhat presentable in the presence of his mother.

“I’m telling you, Ma,” Bucky’s voice echoes through the hallway as he makes his return to the living room, “she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

You shift uncomfortably in your seat at his flattery and try to appear as inconspicuous as possible despite your nerves. You can’t help but wonder how you’re supposed to go back to normal after all of this is over, and a part of you is starting to dread returning home.

Bucky walks into the room with an older woman on his arm. She has beautifully curled hair that’s been pinned back neatly to frame her weathered face. Despite the wrinkles under her eyes, they are bright with joy when she gazes upon her son, and her ruby red smile flashes pearly whites your way when she finally rests her attention on your awkward form.

“Mom, this is y/n,” Bucky introduces proudly, “I promised her you could fix her right up.”

“Oh, you poor dear,” his mother croons as she seats herself beside you. “James told me all about your nasty fall, but I don’t want you to worry. You’re in good hands here with me.”

“Thank you so much for your hospitality, Miss,” you express earnestly as you look into her striking blue eyes she shares with her son. “I promise I won’t be in your way long.”

“Nonsense,” she dismisses you with a wave of her hand. “Any friend of my James is welcome in this home. And please, call me Winnifred.”

“Thank you, Winnifred,” you repeat with a grateful smile, the woman’s kindness having alleviated some of your stress. You watch as she begins to scan over your features for any other possible injuries while taking in your disheveled form; her brows furrow slightly when she takes note of your attire.

“What peculiar clothing,” she murmurs while running her fingers along the rip in your tactical suit. You blanch slightly at the realization that you aren’t exactly dressed for the time period you’re in and scramble to come up with a lie.

“It’s my factory uniform,” you quickly fib, grateful for the fact you’d paid attention in your high school history class. “I make munitions for our boys overseas.”

“I love a woman in uniform,” Bucky notes with an innocent smile despite the flirtatious tone of his words.

“How admirable of you! But surely it must not be very comfortable. Why don’t you get cleaned up and changed out of that uniform before I wrap your ankle? I’ll find you something else to wear.”

“I’ll show you to the bathroom,” Bucky offers before assisting you back onto your feet. You wrap an arm around his midsection to keep yourself propped upright while lamely limping down the hallway with his help. “Mom really seemed to like you, not that I’m surprised.”

“I can see where you get your charm,” you tease gently, almost melting at the boyish grin that forms on his lips in response. Would it be wrong of you to wish you could have such an easy rapport with your own Bucky as you do with this one?

You make it to bathroom where James shows you how to work the shower before giving you your privacy. The water pressure isn’t as strong as what you’re used to back at the compound, but it does the job. You’re grateful to finally scrub off the grime and dried blood that had accumulated from the mission, and you feel like you’re in a much clearer headspace now to start planning your next move.

A simple dress is laid out on the dresser for you when you finish your shower, and once you’re decent Winnifred sits you down and wraps your ankle. She insists you keep off your foot and rest for the remainder of the evening in her daughter’s bed seeing as she’s off at a sleepover. You know better than to object to the woman’s demands, and so you find yourself seated on the cushiony mattress with a dinner tray on your lap. You’re absolutely starving, and you’re grateful to finally have the chance to eat considering you need your strength in order to attempt teleporting without the help of your inhibitor.

A gentle knock on the doorway interrupts your ruminative dinner, and you watch curiously as Bucky slowly peeks his head into the door.

“Mind if I keep you company?”

“Of course not,” you hum gently, heart thrumming in your chest when he seats himself on the edge of the bed beside you. The scent of his cologne mixed with his natural musk drowns your senses, causing a longing ache to settle in the pit of your stomach as you’re reminded of the fact that you must leave him behind when this is all over.

“How’s the ankle?”

“Your mom says the swelling should go down in a day or two as long as I keep off of it.”

“Does that mean you’ll be sticking around here a bit longer?” Bucky asks with a hopeful glimmer in his eyes. You smile faintly, but it isn’t very convincing.

“I can’t,” you relent gently, guilt consuming your entire being at the way his features falter in result. “I have to get back home.”

“You have someone waiting for you?” He prompts softly, absently fidgeting with a loose thread from the comforter.

“I do,” you confess quietly. You watch his gaze drop down to hide his disappointment, head shaking slightly as he lets out a soft chuckle.

“I should have known a girl like you would already be spoken for. Is he handsome?”

“Very,” you nod sheepishly, your face growing hot at having to confess such thoughts to the younger version of the man you picture in your head. “His eyes are blue like yours, but his hair’s a bit longer. He doesn’t smile much, but when he does it lights up an entire room.”

“Does he treat you the way you deserve?”

“He can be cold and closed off at times, but I know deep down he cares. He just isn’t very good at showing it, and I certainly don’t make it easy for him. I can be a handful, and we fight a lot, but I think I love him anyway.”

Sighing, Bucky runs his fingers through his perfectly combed hair before meeting your gaze. You watch as he reaches out to gently take hold of your hand in his left one. You can’t remove your eyes from the flesh no matter how hard you try, and you don’t think you’ll ever get over the feeling of being able to touch the arm that has yet to be tainted by Hydra’s touch. You almost want to tell him, but you’re able to bite your tongue.

“There isn’t anything I can do to change your mind?” He asks while giving your hand a gentle squeeze. His eyes are full of hope and admiration for the woman that had spontaneously fallen into his life, and though he’d only known you for a short period of time he knew that something about you was special. You were unlike any woman he’d ever met, and he wanted to spend the rest of his life getting to know you.

“I don’t think so, James,” you comfort softly. You feel so bold as to rest a hand gently upon his cheek, and you’re rewarded by the feeling of him leaning into your touch as he melts into your palm. “You’re a wonderful man, and I have a feeling this won’t be the last time our paths cross.”

Smiling faintly, Bucky cheekily turns his head to press a chaste kiss to your palm. Your breath catches in your throat at the act while your stomach flutters with nervous butterflies, but you don’t make a move to pull your hand away.

“I’ll hold you to that, sweetheart. I’d be a fool to let a girl like you out of my life,” he says with a wink before reluctantly beginning to pull away from you. Before you can stop yourself or think it through, you frantically shoot your hand out to keep him in place.

“Wait!” You exclaim desperately, catching both Bucky and yourself off guard. You know better than to bring the future to the past, and you know in the end that altering the course of his life won’t change the events of your present time, but you owe it to the man who had shown you such kindness to warn him about his fate.

“What is it, y/n?”

“I…,” you begin to say, faltering as you struggle to get the words out. He looks to you patiently for you to finish your sentence, and despite the guilt that consumes you for changing your mind, you continue, “I want you to promise me you’ll be careful in the future. I couldn’t stand anything happening to you, and I just want you to be safe.”

“Oh,” Bucky breathes as if he hadn’t been expecting such a serious profession. After processing your words, the man simply gives you an affirming nod and replies, “of course I will, doll. Anything you ask.”

The turmoil within you at keeping the truth to yourself persists, but you’re unable to say nothing more as Bucky rises from his seat on the bed and takes your empty tray from your lap. “I’ll get this out of your way.”

He leans down to press a tender kiss to your forehead before excusing himself from the room, shutting the door behind him to give you your privacy. You let out a shaky breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding and blink back the tears that threaten to spill. You cherish the time you’ve spent with him here in his own time, but you also miss the Bucky you have back at home. You’ve never hated him, you just never understood him or the walls he insisted putting between you, but you can see now just how much Hydra had taken from him. He hadn’t always been the grumpy soldier you knew him as, and your stubborn nature certainly didn’t help him come out of his shell.

You needed to make things right, not only with the Bucky from your timeline but also with the one who had just spent his entire day looking after a complete stranger.

Despite the painful throbbing of your ankle, you will yourself out of bed and desperately rush towards the door. You know that exposing his true fate will not alter the course of your timeline, but perhaps there’s a possibility it can give him the chance to create a new timeline where he never gets the chance to become the Winter Soldier.

“Bucky!” You call out in hopes he’ll come rushing back down the hall. You’re so desperate to reach him that you don’t notice the soft glow of your inhibitor bracelet, and your frantic state of mind creates a lack of control over your teleportation ability.

You reach the doorknob just as your powers activate, and when you step through the doorway you are no longer in the apartment of James Barnes but instead in your own bedroom back at the compound.

You stagger forward in a daze, mind reeling from the use of your powers as you struggle to adjust to your new surroundings. Your heart drops to your chest when you finally come to the realization that you’re back where you belong, and you slowly sink down to your knees in tears over the fact that you’d been too late. Bucky would return to an empty bedroom, and he would go on to live the life that fate had chosen for him.

You couldn’t protect him- you’d failed.

You begin to sob as the amalgamation of emotions from your experience overtakes you, and you’re so consumed in your grief that you fail to hear the sound of your door sliding open behind you.

“Y/n? It’s been three days, where the hell have you been?” A startled voice sounds, causing you to jump in surprise. You turn to find Bucky standing in your doorway, his irritated features morphing into confusion at the sight of your distraught state. Tears steadily stream down your cheeks in time with the trembling of your shoulders, and he slowly makes his approach towards your figure on the floor. “Y/n?”

Bucky cautiously sinks to his knees beside you and places a careful hand on your back. The coolness of his metal arm has you shivering, a stark contract to the warmth you’d felt when he’d held your hand in his Brooklyn apartment. “Are you alright? What happened?”

You don’t think before throwing yourself into his arms and holding tightly onto his frame. Bucky nearly topples over from the impact but is quick to regain his balance so he can hold you both upright. Initially he isn’t sure how to react considering this is the first time you’ve ever willingly gotten this close to him let alone hugged him, but he’s eventually able to reciprocate the act by wrapping his arms around your trembling figure and holding you close to his chest.

“I’m sorry,” you sob, fingers tightly clutching at the fabric of his shirt in an attempt to ground yourself. “I’m sorry for always giving you such a hard time, for being so stubborn. You don’t deserve that, and I should have tried to be a better teammate.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Bucky shushes gently, his tone unusually gentle as he carefully pulls away to look you in the face. “I know I’m not exactly the most pleasant person to be around sometimes, and I haven’t always been the nicest to you either. I’m sorry for that.”

“You mean you’re not going to yell at me for disappearing on you? You don’t hate me?” You snivel, prompting his lips to quirk up into a rare smile.

“I’m not going to yell at you for something you can’t control. And I never hated you. I just… never really knew how to be around you. Steve always speaks so highly of you, you’re everyone’s favorite, and I never felt like I had the right to know you so intimately the way they do. I figured keeping my distance would be easier, and I thought you preferred it that way considering our track record.”

“I don’t want you to keep your distance anymore,” you plead softly. “I want to be around you, I want you to feel comfortable around me.”

“That can be arranged,” Bucky notes with a faint smile while carefully brushing away the last of your tears, “but can I ask you what brought this on?”

“It’s a long story,” you admit while guiltily avoiding eye contact with the man. You’re not sure if you should tell him the truth about your venture just yet, but you don’t have it in you to lie to him. You know you’ll have to tell him one day, but for now it can wait. “Being gone these past few days just gave me time to get a new perspective on things.”

“Well, whatever happened, I’m glad it did,” he says truthfully. “Now let’s get you cleaned up so you can let the rest of the team know you made it back safe.”

You allow him to help you up off the ground just as he had in that alleyway, and when he looks down at you with his soft blue eyes you’re able to see his younger self once more. The charming, chivalrous James Barnes who had taken such good care of you still existed within Bucky, it would just take time for him to come out of his shell and open himself up to you the way his past self had done so.

And you would wait all the time in the world for him.

#mel writes #bucky barnes #james barnes #40s!bucky #marvel #mcu #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #mcu x reader #mcu imagine #request

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babeforjjmaybanks · 5 months ago

Text

orange soda crush ༊*·˚

pairing: popular!rafe x shy!femreader ౨ৎ

summary: rafe's grades were slipping, to say the least. your school assigns you as his tutor, hoping maybe you could save him. one afternoon, rafe shows up to your house with in need of some help.

warning(s): dry humping, fingering, finger licking, mentions of biting (hickeys), thigh riding, marijuana use, swearing, size kink if you squint, mentions of scratching, slight overstim, rafe becomes whipped so possessiveness, innocence corruption(?), praise, slight perv!rafe, titobsessed!rafe, dni if you don't like!!!

mentions of: rafey, rafe is called a "sex symbol", y/n, sweetheart, good girl, baby, sweet girl, dumbass, needy girl, slut, doll, cute, pretty ౨ৎ

a/n: if not known already, this is basically a obx highschool au, pogues and looks still exist but it's more like jocks and nerds. both reader and rafe are seniors, not minors! I don't have much experience with writing fics but here's my current fixation, enjoy & leave notes! <3

word count: 4168

divider by: @issysh3ll

y/n had been sitting quietly in her history class, the bell signaling the end of the period ringing in the distance. she was gathering her books when the overhead speaker crackled to life, interrupting the usual noise of students packing up.

"pardon this interruption, y/n l/n, please report to principal phelp’s office immediately."

the announcement hung in the air, drawing the attention of a few nearby students. she froze, a slight chill running through her. she wasn’t the type to get into trouble—her grades were impeccable, she kept to herself, and she was always on time. so why was she being called to the principal’s office? her mind raced through all the possible reasons, none of which seemed likely. had she missed an assignment? was there a mistake with her records? or was it the skirt she decided to wear today that definitely didn’t meet the dress code?

her heart pounded as she made her way down the hall, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the quiet corridor. as she approached the principal’s office, she noticed the usual hustle and bustle of students outside. some of them exchanged glances, their curious eyes following her every step, looking her up and down with whispers and sly looks. when she reached the door, she hesitated for a moment before knocking lightly.

"come in," came the deep voice of principal phelps.

she opened the door to find him sitting behind his desk, a manila folder in front of him. the room was neat, almost too perfect, the smell of old books and polished wood filling the air. but what really caught her off guard was the figure sitting across from him.

rafe cameron, the school's golden boy.

her stomach dropped. rafe was sitting with his arms crossed, his signature smirk plastered across his face as he looked over at her. His messy curtain and athletic jacket seemed almost out of place in the sterile office, like he didn’t belong in this space. she had always known of him, of course. he was the star quarterback, the guy everyone knew by name, the one who seemed to glide effortlessly through life. and now, here he was, looking at her as if he had all the time in the world, while she, on the other hand, was caught off guard and confused.

"there she is, come on in we were just talking about you." principal phelps said with a warm smile, though she could detect a hint of urgency in his tone. "take a seat."

she sat down hesitantly, trying to avoid looking directly at rafe. the tension in the air was palpable, and she was acutely aware of how out of place she felt in this situation.

"y/n," principal phelps began, folding his hands in front of him, his expression turning serious, "I’ve called you here because I need a favor. you know rafe, right?"

you glanced at rafe again, his eyes diverted to something else in the room as if he wasn’t staring at you. he seemed unfazed by the situation, though there was a subtle flicker of something in his eyes. "um, yeah," you said quietly, not sure where this conversation was going.

principal phelps nodded. "well, rafe here has been struggling in a few subjects. he’s having difficulty with math, english, and history.” principal phelps cleared his throat trying to ignore the fact that he named almost every class. “and unfortunately, his grades are slipping dangerously low. If he doesn’t get his grades up, he could lose his eligibility to play on the football team, which would jeopardize his scholarship opportunities." he paused, giving her a moment to process the gravity of the situation.

she blinked, her mind racing. rafe? struggling? the same rafe who could probably get away with doing the bare minimum and still pass every class? the same rafe with the fancy sport cars and the fancy mansion he threw ragers in? (allegedly, she’s never been to one.) the same rafe who had never so much as acknowledged her existence in all the years they’d been in school?

"I’m asking you," principal phelps continued, leaning forward slightly, "to tutor rafe for the next few weeks. he needs to pass these subjects to stay on track. and I know you’re one of our top students, y/n. you’re smart, diligent, and patient—exactly what rafe needs right now."

rafe shifted in his chair, his smirk faltering for just a moment. "yeah, sweetheart," he added with a lazy grin, "I could use your help. think you can handle it?" he glanced down at her thighs, and then back up at her. she felt her face flush at the sudden name.

her mind was spinning. she had never thought of rafe as anything more than the popular guy—someone she’d seen in the hallways but never really interacted with. actually, that was a lie, the thinking part. she actually would think about rafe alot when she was bored, specifically his toned body and the way he bit his lip when he was thinking. she had no idea how to deal with someone like him.

"I—I don’t know," she stammered, feeling her face flush. "I’m not sure I’m the right person for this."

principal phelps’s voice softened, but there was still a sense of urgency in his words. "I’m sure you are. rafe, here, is a good kid at heart, but he’s under a lot of pressure. If you help him out, it could mean a lot to him—and to his future."

rafe’s eyes met hers again, and for a split second, she thought she saw something other than cockiness—a hint of desperation, maybe even embarrassment. but it was gone before she could fully understand it.

she took a deep breath. she had never been one to shy away from responsibility, even if the situation seemed overwhelming. she didn’t want to be the one to deny him help, especially when it could affect his future.

"okay," she finally said, her voice steady but unsure. "I’ll help."

principal phelps smiled, relief flooding his face. "thank you, y/n. I know this is a lot to ask, but I think you’re exactly what rafe needs."

as she stood up to leave, she felt the weight of the task ahead of her settle in. she glanced one more time at rafe, who was still sitting there, his posture slightly more relaxed now. He didn’t say anything, but she could feel the tension between them already starting to form, a mix of uncertainty and something unspoken.

"see you tomorrow, then," she said, her words more for herself than for him, before leaving the office to prepare for what was about to be an unexpected and challenging journey.

over the past two weeks, y/n and rafe had settled into a rhythm, though it was far from smooth at first. their tutoring sessions started awkwardly—rafe's usual cocky demeanor clashed with y/n’s quiet, no-nonsense attitude. he would slouch in his chair, often cracking jokes or making sarcastic comments, testing her patience. but y/n, determined to get him through the material, refused to let him off the hook. slowly, she found ways to get through to him, breaking down complicated equations and historical events into relatable, bite-sized pieces. rafe, surprisingly, started to respond. he still struggled, but he began showing up earlier for their sessions, staying later, and even asking questions without the usual bravado.

as the days passed, the tutoring sessions shifted from strictly academic to more personal. one evening, as they were going over a particularly difficult history assignment, rafe let slip that his father had been pushing him to be the perfect athlete, to always be "the best." "It’s not just about football," rafe admitted, his tone more vulnerable than she had ever heard. "I just don’t want to disappoint him, you know?" y/n was taken aback. she had always seen rafe as the confident jock, but here was a side of him she hadn’t expected—a young man weighed down by more than just his grades. she listened quietly, offering a rare, understanding smile that made rafe pause for a moment. after that, their sessions felt different. the walls that had once separated them began to crumble.

In the weeks that followed, their conversations drifted beyond just homework. rafe started sharing bits of his life with you—how he used to love painting when he was younger, how he struggled with anxiety before big games, and how he was terrified of failing his senior year. you, in turn, opened up as well, telling rafe about your dream of becoming a lawyer and how you often felt like an outsider at school. the two of you discovered common ground in your shared feelings of pressure, and the lines between tutor and student began to blur. with each passing session, you became more comfortable with one another, a connection forming that neither had anticipated—one built on mutual respect, trust, and the quiet bond of shared struggle.

it was a quiet evening when y/n heard the unexpected knock on her door. she glanced at the clock—there was no study session scheduled for that night, so she wasn’t expecting anyone. her parents were out, and she had been planning on catching up on some reading. she opened the door, a little confused, only to find rafe standing on her porch, looking uncharacteristically disheveled. his usual confident posture was gone, replaced with an uneasy slouch. his eyes were almost bloodshot, and he wore an unfamiliar look on his face—vulnerable, even fragile.

"rafe?" y/n asked, surprised. "what are you doing here?"

he ran a hand through his messy hair and let out a small, strained laugh. "I—I know this is weird. but I, uh... I had a fight with my dad. a big one. he’s pissed about my grades and shit again, and he’s been on my case all week." rafe hesitated, biting his lip as if trying to hold back a wave of frustration. "I... I got high. like really fucking high I know I shouldn’t have, but I just couldn’t handle it. and I needed to get out of there." he looked down at his shoes, his words a little rushed. "I just—" he sighed, clearly frustrated with himself. "I don’t know, I thought maybe you’d—just let me hang out for a bit. I didn’t know where else to go. I didn't wanna seem like a pussy to all of my dumbass friends."

y/n stood frozen for a moment, processing his words. she had never seen him like this. the rafe she knew was always in control, always surrounded by his friends, the football team, and the unshakable air of confidence. this version of him—lost, raw, and uncertain—was a stark contrast. her heart softened at the sight of him, and despite the oddness of the situation, she stepped aside and motioned for him to come in.

"come in," she said, her voice gentle. "let’s sit down."

rafe walked in slowly, his movements sluggish, still unsure of what to say. she led him to the living room and handed him a glass of water, sitting down next to him, a soft hand placed on his back. the room was filled with the low voice of lana del ray and soft hum of the evening, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. rafe finally looked up, meeting her gaze with a look of quiet gratitude mixed with embarrassment along with something untraceable. "I didn’t mean to show up like this, but I didn’t know who else I could trust with this."

y/n’s heart tightened. she had no idea how much weight rafe had been carrying, how much pressure he was under from his father and the constant expectations of being perfect. In that moment, she realized how little she had truly known about him, and yet here he was—vulnerable, raw, and seeking comfort from the one person he had never expected to rely on.

"you don’t have to explain," she said softly. "I’m glad you came." she gave him a weak smile, rafe felt his heart flutter. "so.. how'd you get high? is that stupid question? sorry, you know people are bringing cocaine back into school." he chuckles, she lets out a giggle. "no cocaine here sweetheart, just this." rafe reached into his pocket and pulled out a weed pen, but y/n had never seen anything like it. it was super colorful and weirdly shaped, not like the ones she would see in the bathroom. "can I hold it?" she glanced at rafe, her doe eyes dimly lit with the faint lighting coming from the lamp in the corner. "why? you smoke? no way." he raised his eyebrow at her, but handed her the pen anyway.

"no, I don't smoke but.." she pauses, biting her lip, "I'm tempted. maybe you're just a really bad influence." he scoffed at her, "give it a try, just hold the button and pull it." y/n stood at the device in her hand uncertain. "what do you mean pull?" rafe held back his laugh, she shoots him a glare. "I'm serious." she playfully shoved him.

"yeah yeah I can see that, by pull I mean, suck on it I guess." her face heats up, cursing herself for letting such innocent words cause a fluttery feeling in her stomach. "okay, I'll try." she focused her attention of the pen and did as rafe said, she put the pen up to her lips and "sucked." rafe watched intensely as her lips wrapped around the tip of the pen, he swallows hard. trying to keep his composure, aka stop staring at your boobs in your thin strapped top or imagine your lips wrapped around his dick like that.

you slightly inhale the smoke and it immediately gets caught in your throat. you're now in a coughing frenzy, embarrassed as rafe pats your back. "atta girl, that's how you do it don't try to hold it in, let it out." y/n found herself coughing even more at the sly remarks. she stands up and walks over to the kitchen hastily grabbing an orange fanta from the fridge. she struggles to open it due to her latest french tip set, rafe notices her struggling and walks over. he opens the can with one hand with a sizzle pop! noise, she brings the drink to her lips hoping to relieve her dry mouth.

after taking a couple minutes to calm down, y/n offers rafe to come up to her room. it comes off as a surprise, rafe had never been anywhere in y/n's house except the living room and kitchen, never upstairs. but with no complaint, he follows behind her, watching the way her ass moves as she climbs up the steps. they make it to her room and it's safe to say, it was tidy. everything seemed like it had a place, and the room was lit with purple led's. but the best part of it all, was her bed. the mattress was extremely comfortable and she had an abundance of pillows as well as plushies.

"yeah this fits you, like a doll in a dollhouse." he walks around her room a bit before sitting on her bed getting comfortable.

meanwhile, y/n on the other hand was in a whole other world.

her ears were burning almost, she could hear her heartbeat and her whole body was tingling. she felt nothing short of amazing, euphoric even.

the usual walls between them had melted away, and now, as the evening dragged on, the space between them felt more intimate than it ever had before. there was movie was playing on her TV, but neither of them seemed particularly interested in it. they were both laughing at the silly dialogue and weird moments on the screen, but most of the time their eyes kept drifting back to each other.

rafe broke the silence, his voice softer than usual. "you know," he said, arms wrapped around her waist as she sat on top of him, "this is the most chill I’ve felt in weeks." his eyes were a little glassy, but his smile was genuine, more relaxed than she’d ever seen him. "It’s nice being away from everything… away from the pressure."

she nodded, her head slightly spinning from the effects. the room felt warmer, the air thicker, and rafe’s presence seemed to fill the space between them in a way that felt new. he shifted, his chest brushing against her back, and neither of them pulled away. It felt like a small moment of intimacy, unspoken yet undeniable.

"yeah," she replied, her voice quieter now, "it’s nice not to think about all the things we’re supposed to be worrying about."

"I wonder, do you ever worry about me? think about me at night?" his tone was teasing, but there was something more behind it, something she could feel but couldn’t quite place. It was an invitation, but also something more—like a question she wasn’t sure how to answer. "so much goes on behind those pretty eyes."

y/n felt her heart beat a little faster as she considered it. part of her wanted to stay upright on his lap, maintain the little distance they had been keeping, but something about rafe’s tone, the way his eyes held hers, made her hesitate. she wanted to trust this moment, to let it unfold without overthinking it. she melted into his touch, resting her head in the crook of his neck, thighs pressed together. "I do."

rafe shifted to make room as he breathed in the scent of vanilla, the bed soft beneath him. the air between them was electric now, charged with a tension that neither of them seemed willing to break. the movie was still playing, but neither of them were paying attention to it anymore. they were closer now, the space between them reduced to nothing and for the first time in a long time she wasn't sure of something, she wasn’t sure if she was just feeling the effects of the weed or something more.

rafe leaned back against the pillows, his arms still wrapped around her body. "we don’t have to watch the movie," he said, his voice almost too smooth, like he was testing the waters. his eyes didn’t leave hers, his gaze intent and heavy, and in that moment, the world outside her room seemed to disappear.

y/n’s breath caught in her throat as the tension between them grew. every inch of her body was acutely aware of him, the way his presence felt so overwhelming, so magnetic. she had always seen rafe as someone distant, someone who belonged to a world she could never quite fit into. but now, with the smoke being blown in her face, taken in by slightly parted lips, she felt like they were on the same level.

she opened her mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come. Instead, she just looked at him, her pulse racing as her mind swirled in the haze of the night.

"I wanna touch you."

rafe's breath fell heavy on her ear, sending a slight chill down her spine. her breath hitched, and there was that same flutter in her stomach. she didn't exactly have any experience in things like this but she wasn't entirely clueless, but never dealt with it hands on.

but rafe? he was a fucking sex symbol. several girls would literally leave notes in his locker with their address begging him to fuck them. but he would only rack up two bodies, or so it's said.

both of those girls transferred schools due to death threats.

but y/n doesn't understand why he would choose her.

"touch, me?" her voice was soft, but not afraid. infact, she was more relaxed than ever. "I wanna make you feel good, you're gonna be the fucking death of me. so innocent you don't even notice how you're straddling me, do you?" y/n took notice of how firmly planted on his thigh she was, no longer fully in his lap. "um, well.." rafe placed his hands on her hips, slowly guiding her back and forth. a jolt of pleasure shooting through her body, "rafey." a mewl creept from her lips, rafe was fucking aching in his sweats at this point. hair sticking to his forehead, lips parted slightly. "shit, you want me to stop? just give me the word i'll stop." he halts his movements, earning a disappointed whine.

"I don't want you to stop."

rafe curses under his breath, he slides her onto his lap and grinds his hips up into her, letting out a low groan. "you're a needy girl aren't you? so stressed and pent up. you can let go, I got you." rafe coo'd into her ear, placing soft kisses on her shoulders and moving to her neck, biting and sucking, hands rubbing all over her body, palming her boobs through her top, fingers brushing over her nipples.

rafe turns her head twords him, pressing their lips together. a mix of cherry lipgloss and orange fanta settling on his tongue. the kiss is sloppy and heated, the air in the room is thick as the movie in the background gets drowned out by moans and heavy breaths.

"such a sweet girl, you know that? all the shit you do for me? you deserve a fucking trophy." rafe showers her with praise has he goes back to kissing her neck, hands never leaving her body as she caught the rhythm on her own.

her brain was foggy with pleasure, lips parted but could't respond with anything but moans and "mhm's." rafe plays with the hem of her pajama pants, "can I?" she nods, "words, baby I need to hear you say it."

y/n, almost frustrated lets out a defeated sigh. "yes, but.." she hesitates. "can you take your shirt off?" she says quietly, as if she wasn't already in such a vulnerable state.

rafe chuckles at the sudden request, but does as she says. he pulls his black shirt over his head and tosses it to the floor. y/n does the same. rafe is practically drooling at the sight of the pink lacy bra. his hands cup her breasts through the fabric, she arches her back against his chest. he slides his hand into her pants, glancing down to see that her underwear matched her bra. "so fucking cute."

he rubs her through the fabric, dampness seeping through the material. he teases her with long strides and rubs circles around her clit. he slips his hand into her underwear, almost moaning at the slick. y/n bites her swollen lip in an attempt to save her embarrassment.

"I want you to watch me."

her eyes slowly moved down to rafes hand in her pants, her face heated with embarrassment as she watched rafe's forearm and wrist flexed as he worked her clit, finger teasing her entrance. "I need you to relax, open your legs for me." rafe slowly parted her thighs with his free hand. "good fucking girl, so obedient." he kisses her cheek as he slides a digit into her sopping cunt. she inhales sharply, her head is thrown over his shoulder and her nails dig slightly into his arms.

"shit, just sucking me in. if I didn't know any better i'd think you were a slut." rafe's teasing manner never seemed to stop, he was two fingers, knuckle deep, in his supposed to be tutor. the only thing they were studying were eachothers body movements.

he found a steady pace working his fingers in and out of her, her moans becoming more high pitched, rafe could tell she was close. her hips bucked up into his hand, an unfamiliar knot forming in her stomach.

"rafey— 'm gonna— fuck!"

rafe was in genuine disbelief, not only did he cum in his pants but this was the first time he had ever heard you swear, tonight was a lot of firsts. the girl that he had been crushing on for weeks was about to cum on his fingers, moaning his name. he was never letting her go after this.

almost like it was on cue, y/n's orgasm hit like a truck. her entire body was shaking and she swore she saw starts. on top of that, rafe was still working his fingers in and out of her riding out her orgasm. she swatted his hands away and he took his hand out of her pants, bringing his fingers up to his mouth and licking them clean. she falls off of his lap onto the cool comforter beside him, chest heaving. he lays beside her and wraps his arms around her waist.

"want me to go run a bath, sweetheart?" he kisses the nape of her neck and cages her in. "'n a minute, just stay here for a second."

"didn't plan on leaving." ౨ৎ

#rafe obx #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe smut #smut #obx smut #obx rafe cameron #highschool au #jock #nerd #orange #lana del rey #fem reader #fluff #comfort #opposites attract

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thepencilnerd · 15 days ago

Text

Anatomy of Want

summary: Jack Abbot never thought he'd be this undone over a resident. But you were unlike anyone he'd met—brilliant under pressure, quick on your feet, and impossible to ignore. What begins as admiration quickly becomes something deeper, something that simmers beneath every shared shift, until it threatens to boil over. warnings/notes: 18+ MDNI, age gap, slow burn, mutual pining, jealousy, praise kink, shameless smut, oral sex (f&m receiving), body worship, depictions of war scars, literally just an excuse to write jack abbot smut & you kissing his scars bc that man lives in my head rent free wc: 5.4k a/n: forgot i posted this on ao3 but not here :}

You joined the night shift in a flurry of quiet confidence and dazzling competence, and Jack noticed you immediately. It wasn’t just the way you handled patient load like clockwork, or how you navigated the trauma bay with a calm assurance usually reserved for seasoned attendings. It was the way you asked questions, the way you looked at problems sideways, the way you never folded, even when things got messy.

He told himself he was just impressed. That it was his responsibility, as your mentor, to push you. And he did—assigned you the trickiest cases, brought you into every complicated intubation, every crashing patient. You rose to each occasion like you'd been waiting for it, and Jack couldn't stop himself from watching.

"Nice call on that bleed in bay three," he said one night, as you stripped off your gloves, blood spattered on your gown. "You didn’t hesitate."

You shrugged, a wry smile on your lips. "Wasn't much time to, I could've acted faster."

He looked at you a beat longer than necessary. "Take the win, Dr. L/N."

That was how it went for months. Shifts passed in a rhythm he hadn’t felt in years. He trusted you. Relied on you. Admired you, yes, but more than that. There were moments—lingering looks across trauma bays, soft laughs shared over half-spilled coffee at 3 a.m., casual brushes of your hands when passing charts that lingered a beat too long.

Once, when you struggled with a stubborn intubation, he’d leaned in close, murmuring, "You've got this," low enough that it was meant just for you. His hand steadied your elbow, brief but grounding. You’d nailed the tube placement. He’d smiled the whole rest of the shift.

After the harder nights, he started climbing to the roof again. The first time he found you there—legs dangling off the ledge, coffee in hand, still in scrubs—he thought it was coincidence.

It wasn’t.

"Couldn't sleep either?" you'd said without looking at him, voice soft with exhaustion.

He didn’t answer right away. Just sat beside you, shoulder brushing yours.

You didn’t say much after that. Neither did he. Just silence, and the hum of the city below, and a sense of belonging he hadn’t realized he’d been missing.

Some nights, you’d pass a bag of vending machine pretzels back and forth in companionable quiet. Other nights, you'd trade war stories—the worst consults, the craziest saves—your voices low, private, confessions to the stars.

It was easy. Natural. Dangerous.

Jack tried to tell himself it didn’t mean anything. That it was just friendship. Just exhaustion.

But then there were the nights he caught himself watching you laugh at something small, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and his chest tightened with something he couldn’t name.

The tension built slowly, like pressure behind a dam.

Then came the morning you were signing out charts at the nurse’s station, still in your scrubs and rubbing at a bruise forming on your shoulder. Samira Mohan breezed in, bright-eyed, coffee in hand.

"Don’t forget," she said, pulling up beside you. "8pm tonight. David from anesthesia."

"Shit." You'd totally blanked. "I almost forgot, I'm sorry."

"You’re gonna be great," she assured. "He’s nice. And hot. Like... surgery hot."

You couldn't help the snort that escaped you. "What do I even wear? It’s been so long. I bought that one thing..."

Samira's eyes lit up. "Oh, the black lace set?"

"Samira!" Your hands flew up to cover her mouth, cheeks pink and lips pressed tight. "Keep your voice down!" The words came out tight.

"It’s classy!" she laughed, prying your hands off her mouth. "I stand by it. Black is always a good call."

Neither of you noticed Jack at the far end of the nurses' station, flipping through charts but not actually reading them.

He stood there longer than he needed to. Long enough to hear about the date. Long enough to hear about the lingerie. Long enough for his mind to start betraying him—already picturing you in it, delicate black lace against your skin, curves he'd only admired from a respectful distance until now. He wasn't sure whether he'd be more desperate to tear it off you with his hands or his teeth.

And something in him shifted. Just a little. But enough to curl his fingers tighter around the chart in his hands, to clench his jaw until it ached. You sounded hesitant, unsure, nervous in a way that didn’t track with the woman who could crack a diagnosis under pressure without breaking a sweat.

He heard the waver in your voice when you said, "I’m just… worried," and it rang in his head like bolded text. Jack knew you too well not to read between the lines. You weren’t worried about the guy—you were worried because someone else already occupied your mind.

And damn it, he wanted nothing more than for it to be him.

He didn’t want anyone else to be close to you like that. Not because he thought you needed protecting, but because he’d never met someone whose mind, whose hands, whose presence made him feel like maybe—just maybe—he could let someone in again.

Samira nudged you with her elbow, oblivious to the ripple effect her words had left in their wake. "Go home, take a nap, put on something that makes you feel good, and just... have fun, okay? It's your first night off in weeks—you deserve to enjoy it."

You hesitated, biting your lip. "I don't know... it's been a while. What if it's awkward? What if I forgot how to do this?"

She grinned like the devil herself. "You don't forget. It's like muscle memory. Besides, you’re hot. And smart. And wearing black lace. You'll be fine."

You laughed weakly, dropping your voice. "It's just... first date sex? After a dry spell? I feel like I'll crash and burn."

Samira waggled her eyebrows. "Best way to crash. Trust me."

A snap echoed through the room—the sharp, unmistakable crack of plastic breaking.

You and Samira both glanced up.

Jack bent calmly, retrieved the shattered halves of a pen from the floor, and tucked them into his pocket like nothing had happened.

You blinked. Samira blinked. Then shrugged and kept talking.

"Go have fun," she repeated, nudging you again. "Tonight's about you. No pressure, no expectations. Just... have a good time."

You nodded, though your heart wasn't in it. The twist in your stomach wasn't nerves about the date.

It was the thought of someone else entirely.

You smiled weakly and nodded, though your stomach twisted in ways that had nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with someone else entirely.

On your way out, you passed Jack by the charting station, offered him a quiet, "See you on Monday, Dr. Abbot." He gave you a tight-lipped smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Eight o’clock rolled around faster than you expected.

You stood outside the restaurant, already regretting your decision. The lace set beneath your outfit felt less like a confidence boost and more like a secret that didn’t belong to this version of the night. Still, you squared your shoulders and walked in, searching the tables until you saw a man wave—clean cut, kind smile, textbook charming.

David was, by all accounts, exactly what Samira had described. Funny, intelligent, a bit pretentious, but typical for your average resident. He complimented your dress. Asked about your shift schedule. Talked about scuba diving in Belize, his past summer at his parent's beach house.

But your smile stopped at your cheeks. You laughed at the right moments. You answered questions politely. And every so often, your mind wandered back to a different voice—rougher, lower, more familiar.

You thought of Jack’s dry wit. The way he tucked his hands into his scrub pockets when he was thinking. The sound of his laugh, more of a chuckle, rare but always sincere. The heat in his gaze when he really looked at you, like he was trying to hear what colors tinted your thoughts.

You forced yourself back to the conversation with rapid blinks, nodding at whatever David was saying about residency rotations and placements. He was nice. He really was.

So why did you feel like you were somewhere you didn’t belong?

Maybe it was the way David's hand reached for yours across the table, smooth and tentative, and how you instinctively pulled back before you could stop yourself. It wasn’t rude—just reflex. It didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel familiar.

Not like Jack’s hands—callused and warm—when they’d guided your wrist during your first real incision, steadying your nerves with his quiet presence. His grip had been firm, reassuring. You could still remember the way his fingers curled gently but purposefully around yours, the scent of antiseptic and adrenaline in the air.

David’s hand was too small. Too soft. Too unsure. There was no strength in it. No certainty. No experience.

God you were going insane.

"Sorry," you exhaled, offering him a polite smile. But your attention was already drifting, your eyes drawn to a familiar silhouette across the room.

Salt and pepper curls caught the neon light just right. Jack Abbot stood at the far end of the bar, one hand wrapped around a beer, the other resting on the wood tabletop, eyes cast toward the floor—until he looked up.

And found you.

Your breath caught. The background noise dulled to static. For a suspended moment, the two of you just stared. Time slowed. Jack didn’t blink. He didn’t look away.

He didn’t have to.

You felt it in your gut—the electric pull of something intangible.

David started talking again, but it was white noise. The clink of a glass, the hum of conversation, all drowned out by the weight of that look, of Jack watching you like you were the only person in the room.

And suddenly, you were.

You raised your wine glass slowly, holding his gaze as you took a sip. Jack mirrored you, bringing his beer to his lips with a quiet intensity that made your chest tighten. The silence stretched between you like a live wire.

Fingers tightening around the stem, you set your glass down with a little too much force, feigning a glance at your phone as if a sudden messaged had triggered a vibration. "Shit, it's an emergency," you lied, offering a rushed, apologetic smile. "Something came up at the hospital. I have to go. I'm so sorry."

David looked disappointed, but nodded, ever the gentleman. "Of course! Rain check?"

A small, apologetic smile tugged at your lips as you rose, shrugging into your coat. Pulse pounding in your ears, you threaded your way through the maze of tables, slipping out the door with a tight exhale.

Behind you, the scrape of a barstool echoed a second later—quick, deliberate.

Out in the cool night air, you rounded the corner into the alley beside the building, your breath misting as you leaned against the brick wall. The adrenaline had only just begun to settle in your bloodstream when you heard the trailing of familiar footsteps.

Jack Abbot appeared a moment later, turning the corner with his hands outstretched, his brow furrowed like he wasn’t sure what he was doing there until his eyes found yours.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice low. He shifted closer to you, arms now crossed.

You nodded. "Yeah. I just... needed air."

A pause. Eyes dipped, then lifted again, something unspoken skating between you.

You cleared your throat. "How was your evening?"

Jack blinked at the pivot, letting it settle between you. "Uneventful."

"What were you doing at that bar?" you asked, an arch to your brow that softened the tension.

He allowed himself a grin, shoulders relaxing just slightly. "It’s my usual spot. Popular with the old folks."

"Samira did say it had a vintage charm to it when she picked it out," you replied with a smirk.

Jack scoffed at the poke at his age, making both of you laugh.

"Alright then," he countered, eyes narrowing with a spark of mischief. "What were you doing there?"

You hesitated, then exhaled a slow breath. "Ruining my chances of settling down."

His expression flickered.

"What?" You gave a half-laugh, smile twisted with self-deprecation. "Isn't that the whole point of dating as a doctor? Just a long game of figuring out how emotionally unavailable I still am and forever will be?"

Abbot sighed, long and quiet, like it came from somewhere deeper than just the moment.

You tilted your head slightly, watching him, curiosity tugging at your features. "Were you… waiting on someone?"

That gave him pause.

Jack stilled. The corner of his mouth twitched—not quite a frown, not quite a smile. His gaze didn’t meet yours at first. He looked past you, to the mouth of the alley, like the answer might be written in the shadows or the neon lights beyond. Like if he stalled long enough, you might forget you asked.

"Not exactly," he started, voice rougher than usual.

You lifted a brow.

He exhaled again, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "I didn’t come here for that. But when I saw you…" He trailed off, eyes finally locking onto yours. "Guess I started waiting."

Your breath caught. The weight of his words settled in your chest—slow and warm and heavy. Something about the way he said it made it feel less like a confession and more like an inevitability.

He’d been waiting. Watching. Wanting. The same way you’d been tiptoeing around the truth since you'd stepped foot into that ER—since the very first time your fingers brushed as he passed you a chart, since the first time your eyes met across the trauma bay, since that first quiet moment together on the roof.

With the dim alley light casting soft gold between you, something gave. Tension melted into gravity, and gravity into pull, pull into a quiet explosion. You stepped forward just as he did, meeting in the middle, neither of you saying a word. The kiss hit like floodgates bursting—urgent, aching, years of held-back desire finally snapping loose.

His mouth was warm, tasting of beer and something deeply Jack. His cologne clung to the collar of his coat, smoky and crisp, and you inhaled it like oxygen. Hands found your waist, large and steady, trailing down to your hips and cupping your curves like he'd memorized them long before ever touching. Your fingers curled around the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer, needing more.

It felt like one of those messy makeouts from college—reckless, hungry, impossibly heady. But this wasn't some clumsy hookup. This was the culmination of every stolen glance, every almost-touch, every moment spent not saying the thing that burned between you.

You were both sober enough to know what this was—what it meant. When Jack pulled away, just slightly, his breath brushing your lips, his voice dropped into something gravel-soft. "You're not drunk?"

You shook your head, words catching in your throat. "One glass of wine. I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

That was all he needed.

You surged forward, capturing his mouth again with a need that bordered on desperate. Jack backed into the wall with a soft grunt, pulling you in like the space between you had always belonged to him. His hands roamed—one sliding up to cup your jaw, the other finding your lower back, anchoring you like he was terrified you'd disappear.

The kiss deepened, his tongue brushing yours, tasting of mint and longing and everything unspoken between you. You whimpered into his mouth, fingers threading through the curls at the nape of his neck, feeling him shiver at the contact. He devoured you like a man starved, and when he pulled back, just enough to look at you, lips swollen and voice rough, he rasped, "Let me take you home."

You nodded, breathless, pulse thundering in your throat. The walk back to your apartment was quiet, the tension between you humming like electricity under your skin. Jack simply held your hand the entire way. The air crackled, your hand brushing his once, twice, before he finally laced your fingers together.

Arriving at your front door, your hands trembled slightly as you unlocked it. The weight of what was about to happen anchored itself deep in your stomach. You stepped inside, the warm light of your living room spilling over the hardwood floors. Jack hovered in the doorway, hesitant, until you reached for his hand again.

"Come in," you said softly.

He followed.

You led him to the couch, asking quietly if he wanted anything to drink. Jack shook his head, stepping closer until your bodies were barely apart.

"I don’t need anything," he murmured. "Except you."

You inhaled sharply, but before you could speak, his lips were on yours again—slower this time, reverent, like he was memorizing every contour of your mouth. His hands cupped your face as he pulled you closer, until you felt the full heat of him against you.

You reached for the hem of his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders, then your fingers found the buttons of his shirt, fumbling slightly. Jack took over, shrugging out of it with ease. Beneath, his skin was warm and firm beneath your wandering hands, the light dusting of chest hair catching the soft glow of your floor lamp.

Jack’s hands slid under the hem of your top, brushing up your sides, warm palms skating over bare skin. When he pulled it over your head and saw the black lace lingerie beneath—filigree against your skin, delicate and dark—his breath caught in his throat.

"That kid," he spat, "wouldn’t know how to take care you."

You managed a breathless laugh, the tension and heat between you turning reckless. "And what exactly does taking care of me imply, Dr. Abbot?" you teased, voice low and daring.

Jack's eyes darkened immediately, his fingers tightening slightly where they gripped your waist. "Everything you need," he rasped. "And more."

You smiled, bold with adrenaline, tipping your chin up toward him. "And you think you can handle me?"

He leaned in, mouth grazing your ear, voice wrecked and certain. "Sweetheart," Jack said, "I'm counting on it."

He unclasped your bra with one hand, letting it fall away before sliding his palms across your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples in slow, deliberate strokes. "You’re perfect."

You arched into him with a quiet gasp, his touch both soothing and incendiary. He kissed your neck, down your collarbone, until he was lowering you gently onto the couch.

"Let me take care of you," he said, voice hoarse with restraint.

Your only answer was a nod, a whispered, "Please."

Jack kneeled between your thighs, kissing his way down your stomach, murmuring soft nothings against your skin. He slipped your underwear down slowly, eyes locked with yours. He paused only briefly, kissing the inside of your thigh before taking two fingers and teasing them along your entrance.

You gasped, hips bucking as he gently eased a finger inside, curling it expertly. "So wet for me," he murmured, awed. "God, you’re dripping."

And then he was lowering his mouth to you, tongue parting you gently. When he sucked your clit into his mouth, your back arched and your fingers dove into his hair, holding tight.

Jack groaned against you, the sound vibrating through your core. "I could live here," he muttered. "Die happy between your thighs."

You whimpered, tugging harder at his hair. "Jack—please—"

He didn’t stop. His tongue moved in rhythm with his fingers, slow at first and then faster, guided by your every gasp and shudder. The sound of him—soft groans muffled against your slick, the wet sounds of his mouth working you over—had your skin tingling. The taste of you seemed to drive him wild, his chin slick with your arousal as he murmured, "Fucking incredible," into your core.

His fingers curled just right, finding that perfect spot with unerring precision. Your moans spilled out freely, hands clutching at his hair, holding him there. He groaned again, a sound of pure pleasure. "That’s it, sweetheart. Let go for me."

When it broke—when you shattered with a breathless, keening cry—Jack held you through it, grounding you with his strong hands bracketing your hips. His lips never left you, drawing out every tremble, every ripple of your climax until it became too much. Your thighs twitched, pleasure tipping toward the edge of pain, and with trembling fingers, you tapped gently at his shoulder. A silent plea for mercy.

He stilled instantly, pulling back with his mouth slick and eyes dark, but gentle.

You could only scoff, breath shaky and a smile of bliss coloring your face. Jack leaned forward to press a kiss to your thigh, tender and unhurried. "You’re unbelievable," he whispered, voice rough with awe and restraint.

He pulled back slowly, face glistening, licking his fingers clean before sucking them into his mouth, savoring every bit of your taste. Then he looked up at you like you were the only thing that existed. Like he'd just touched heaven.

As he kissed up your body, his breath fanned across your damp skin—each kiss a pause, a confession. His facial hair scraped lightly in contrast to the softness of his lips, leaving trails of heat along your ribs, then your collarbone. When he reached your neck, he lingered there, nuzzling the hollow beneath your jaw before pressing a kiss to it, like he couldn't get enough of the way you tasted, the way you felt, the way you breathed beneath him.

"Can I undress you?" you whisper, running your fingers through his hair. He looks up at you like the morning sky, warmth, admiration, and affection—but there's hesitation there too.

He swallows, jaw flexing slightly, before nodding. "Yeah," he says quietly. "Just... heads up."

You pause, thumb brushing the edge of his cheek. "Jack?"

His voice is rough. "You’ll see scars. From before. It’s not a big deal, just... some of them are pretty bad." He tries to laugh it off, but his eyes flicker away and his shoulders tense. Your heart cracks open at the vulnerability he rarely lets anyone see.

"Hey," you murmur, tilting his face back toward yours. "Whatever you’ve been through, whatever you carry—I want to see all of you. Every piece."

Jack's throat bobbed with a swallow, eyes glassy as he searched your face for doubt—and found none. His fingers brushed lightly along your jaw.

You undressed him slowly, fingers trembling as you tugged his belt open, then popped the button of his slacks. His cock strained against the fabric, an eager outline that made your mouth water. When you pushed his pants down, the sight made you pause—he was perfect. Not too much, not too little—cut, well-groomed, thick and just the right length. A light trail of hair led up to a stomach carved with muscle, the kind earned by years of hard work, not vanity.

You wrapped your fingers around him, gave him a few slow pumps, marveling at the weight of him in your hand. When you ducked your head and pressed a kiss to the flushed tip, he hissed softly, hand threading into your hair. You licked him experimentally, kitten licks at first, savoring the velvet softness of his skin, the way he twitched at every flick of your tongue.

You took him into your mouth, slowly, a few shallow bobs that had him groaning low in his throat. His other hand gripped the back of the couch behind you as his hips twitched forward, but just when you began to settle into a rhythm, he gently but firmly pulled you back.

Jack crushed his mouth to yours, desperate and breathless, his hands cradling your face. "Not like that," he murmured, voice trembling against your lips. "I’m not coming anywhere but inside you. I want to feel you, every inch, every heartbeat." He drew back just enough to look at you, something raw and uncertain flickering in his eyes.

"If you're sure," he whispered, thumb stroking your cheek, "I want to take care of you. Let you shut everything else out—just feel me."

You nodded, breath catching. "I need you."

His breath shuddered out, the last thread of restraint snapping in his chest. With worship and heat in his eyes, Jack kissed you again—slower this time, deeper, as if trying to memorize the very shape of your mouth. Reaching over to the end table, you pulled out a condom wrapper and tore it open, your fingers trembling with anticipation.

With a breathless murmur of his name, you rolled it onto his length—slowly, deliberately—giving him a few teasing strokes first. His cock twitched in your hand, heavy and perfect, and your thumb brushed over the slick tip, spreading the pre-cum like a promise. Jack's breath caught, eyes dark as he watched you, jaw clenched with restraint, like you’d just lit a match in a room full of gasoline.

He guided you down gently, his body pressing into yours, firm and certain, a grounding weight that promised not just desire, but devotion.

You moved first, hips sliding up and down in slow, deliberate strokes, and Jack almost exploded at how good you felt. Every part of him molded to you, surrounding you like safety and fire all at once. His hands cradled your face like something sacred, and the press of his chest against yours ignited sparks beneath your skin. You couldn't remember sex ever feeling like this—like your very soul was unraveling. It was almost a religious experience, divine and consuming, the way he fit with you, moved with you. It felt like surrender.

"Fuck." It punched out of Jack Abbot like a confession, like he’d been holding it in for months. You felt like pure velvet around him—tight, warm, impossibly soft, dragging him to the edge with every glide of your hips. His head tipped back for a moment, jaw clenched, trying to hold on. The sounds spilling from your lips—soft gasps, high whimpers, breathy moans—were branded into his memory already. God, he thought, if he could bottle them, he’d keep them forever. Hoard them. Pray to them for forgiveness.

Your hands were grasping onto whatever they could—his shoulders, the cushions, the curve of his neck—anything to anchor yourself. When your nails dug into his back, Jack groaned low and deep, the sound vibrating against your skin like a warning and a reward. He definitely had a thing for rough, and that knowledge thrilled you.

You leaned in, breathless, and whispered praises against his ear—how good he felt, how perfect he was, how he filled you like no one else ever had.

"Please," you begged, voice shaking.

Jack groaned, the sound catching in his throat. "You’re everything I've ever dreamed of," he rasped, pressing his forehead to yours. "You feel like heaven."

Your nails raked down his back, and he hissed through clenched teeth, clearly loving it. "You take me so well," he murmured, lips brushing your temple, his hand smoothing along your spine. "So fucking good—perfect, you’re made for me."

"Jack—God, please—don’t stop," you whimpered, arching into him. His rhythm faltered for a heartbeat at your words, his grip on your waist tightening like a man barely holding on.

"Never," he whispered. "Gonna keep you like this. You're mine."

Each word wrapped around you like silk, the praise as intoxicating as the rhythm of his hips. You drank him in like water in a desert, letting it fill every hollow part of you until you were burning with it—consumed, adored, alive.

Jack shifted, pulling you with him, guiding you until your hands were braced against the couch and your body arched for him. The air thickened as he pressed behind you, one hand splaying over your lower back, the other skimming down to grip your hip firmly.

He slid back inside slowly, a groan torn from his throat at the new angle. "Fuck, look at you—" he breathed, eyes roaming over the arch of your spine, the way your skin glowed beneath the dim lights.

Your breath caught at the intensity. He moved with purpose now, hips snapping against yours, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the dim light. His grip bruised in the best way, grounding you, guiding you, adoring you with every thrust.

Every movement lit you up, sending shocks through your body until you were keening, meeting him stroke for stroke. Jack leaned over you, one hand splaying across your lower back while the other slipped beneath to rub tight, teasing circles over your clit. The added pressure was too much, the timing of his thrusts too perfect. You were a whining mess, trembling and begging for release, the pleasure cresting like a tidal wave.

"That's it, baby," he groaned, his voice wrecked. "Let go for me. Give it to me."

You clawed at the cushions, barely able to hold yourself upright, your body burning at every point of contact. And when his teeth sank gently into your shoulder, scraping over sensitive skin and biting down with a growled praise, everything inside you shattered.

You came with a strangled cry, ears ringing, vision going white around the edges, the force of your orgasm crashing over you like fire and light. Jack held you steady, worshipful even now, as you pulsed around him—his voice in your ear, a low whisper of your name like a prayer he’d never stop saying. He pressed kisses down your shoulder blades, pausing to give you a break, his breath shaky with restraint.

Then, without a word, he gathered you into his arms, shifting you with care. He carried you up effortlessly, propping your legs over the edge of the couch so you were just hanging off, perfectly open for him. Nestled into the crook of your neck, Jack rocked into you with purpose, his thrusts slow but relentless, chasing his own release. Your hands wrapped protectively around his head, fingers stroking through his hair, grounding him.

"Are you going to fill me up?" you edged, voice breathless, lips brushing the shell of his ear. "Have me dripping for days so everyone knows who I belong to?"

"Jesus Christ, Y/N," he gasped.

That was it.

Jack shuddered, a low, desperate groan escaping him as he pressed himself deeper into you. He trembled, a broken moan tearing from his throat. His fingers clutched your thighs as he buried himself to the hilt, the sound of your voice—the permission, the trust—pushing him over the edge. His release surged through him, hips stuttering as he spilled into you, heart hammering as he held you close, breathless and undone. He collapsed gently against you, all tension melting as he pressed a kiss into your neck, lost in the aftershocks of something that felt like more than just pleasure.

A long moment passed before he pulled back just enough to look at you. His pupils were blown wide, the edges of his eyes glistening with overwhelmed want, cheeks flushed with effort and awe.

"What did I do to deserve you?" he murmured, cracking with disbelief. His gaze searched yours—earnest, sincere, undone.

He leaned in again, kissing the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, as if he couldn't stop reassuring himself you were real. "You okay?" he asked softly, still breathing hard. "Was that too much?"

You smiled through the afterglow, brushing your fingertips over his jaw. "I've never felt anything like that. It was perfect."

Jack exhaled a shuddering breath of relief, then smiled too—soft and disbelieving, like he’d just found something sacred.

Later, after the two of you had cleaned up and slipped beneath the covers, the world slowed to a hush. Jack lay beside you, one arm tucked beneath your shoulders, the other lazily tracing shapes across your skin. Hearts, spirals, question marks—he wasn’t thinking, just moving, touching, grounding himself in your presence.

The silence between you was full—not empty—with comfort and understanding, the kind only found in someone who sees every scar and stays anyway.

Your body ached in the sweetest way, muscles languid and sated. You felt Jack’s chest rise and fall with slow, steady breaths against your back, the heat of his body a constant balm. You turned slightly to glance at him, catching the way his eyes fluttered closed, then opened again to meet yours.

"Stay with me?" you whispered, though it wasn’t really a question.

He leaned in, pressed a kiss to your temple. "Always."

Every quiet morning after that was a sort of miracle—waking tangled in his warmth, with the sun filtering through the curtains and the scent of coffee already brewing. Even the hardest days felt lighter, the sharp edges dulled by his steady presence, by the simple truth that he was yours, and you were his.

And in that stillness, that shared understanding, you knew: this was only the beginning.

#the pitt #jack abbot #dr robby #dr abbot #jack abbot x reader #the pitt fanfiction #the pitt x reader #shawn hatosy #noah wyle #dr abbot x reader #smut #dr abbot smut #jack abbot smut

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yey56 · 3 months ago

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HARLEY SAWYER X PSYCHOLOGIST READER

You have been working at Playtime CO for some years now, you worked as the head department of psychology but most of your work consisted on providing profiles of the children in the lower levels or as your coworker called them, experiments.

Over the years of working with them and knowing what they are being turned into, you've learned to work with them pre and post experimentation. Another thing you've learned through time was to deal with the partner you were assigned for the project. Harley sawyer.

What is there to say about that man. He is the head scientist in the project but he is absolutely horrible at dealing with them, or with anyone. That's how you were assigned to work along side him . He made the experiments and you maintained them under control.

Initially the ones who needed to be under control where you two because of your crashing personalities. While he was a serious control freak and borderline antisocial you one the contrary seemed to not take things seriously, constantly taunting him and the other stuff and with a permanent sarcastic tone in your voice voice.

Of course at first he didn't like you much, and to be fair you didn't make it easy. Everything he said refering to the experiments was refuted by your obsession to keep a mildly stable mental health in the subject.

Dr Harley sighed heavily looking your way with an annoyed look- What now?- he asked

If you keep treating the subjects like that your are going to break them.-you said in the observation room with him while you were both supervising experiment 1355, a young girl turned into a smiley unicorn.

They're toys, they can be fixed easily- he responded as if he had repeated you that phrase for the 11th time (he did)

You know what I mean Sawyer, they are of no use if their minds break-you explained with a calm smile- or have you forgotten what kind of problems an unstable subject could bring?- your asked him, your question mocking him.

It turned out well with Yarnaby or have you forgotten Dr (Y/L/N)?- he said imitating your question

You laughed slowly- ah yes the kid you isolated as your pet, great example Dr-

Harley Sawyer was well known for working alone, he didn't like others company and whenever he got an assistant or a guard, he scared them off by being authoritarian or exposing them to dangerous situation. You were the only one at the company who actually could keep up with him.

In the interviews with the children you would lead the conversation while Harley observed and took notes. In the laboratory you were more of an assistant, helping the Dr with whatever tool he needed or just preparing the chemicals.

Even though he hated to admit it, his experiments have been more controlable and causing less troubles since you started working together.

You would be unbothered by the kids, showing enough compassion for them to not recognise you as a threat, but showing not an ounce of regret in your eyes while seeing how Harley turned them into toys.

Do I have to remind you that compassion is useless in this job?- Sawyer said while closing a wound he had made on the experiment while operating

You haven't realised how much time have passed since your prior conversation have ended. It was strange for the doctor to initiate them, usually preferring silence but you weren't complaining.

Compassion can make a person go through great lengths- you said- But I understand that in this line of work it's nothing but a limit, a wall that needs to be broken in order to obtain results.-

For once in a long time both you and Harley agreed on something.

He finally stopped sewing the toys fresh wound and started reading the inform you had redacted about the psychological profile of the child before the operation- you should do another one once she wakes up (Y/L/N)- he reminded you while reading the little notes and highlights you left about her.

You always reserved a space the paper work to express your personal opinions on the experiment and Harley always read them. It's another thing he started doing, considering your opinions and advice as something worth of noticing.

-Doc...-

-Sawyer...-

-Sawyer??...-

-HARLEY!!-

He looked at you not noticing how he had spaced out of his mind for a moment while reading your report.

What is it?- he asked actually surprised that he was actually distracted enough to not hear you.

I was asking you about the experiment 1322, Doey. How are the three conscience developing? are they getting used to they're new body?-you asked. Doey was your favourite experiment so far, it was the one you have showed more interest in and your involvement with him was way bigger than with others. Sawyer didn't understood your fascination with Doey.

Since you both started developing the project, you had shown special interest in the idea of three people combined in a toy. In fact, the reason you had starting working more time with the doctor was because of your eagerness to see how the experiment would turn out.

You have become much more comfortable with one another, even after years of coexisting with each other in the lower levels of Playtime.

Sometimes he would catch himself looking at you while you were with the kids in the interviews. He observed your calm demeanor through the crystal of the observation room. He could see how the children grew more confortable with you while you were joking.

The cognitive abilities of the toys were improving each day thanks to your work so of course the bosses permitted you both to perform as many experiments as needed.

Another thing Harley noticed about the last week's was how you would spend most of your time testing and conversing with 1322. He had grown so used to your presence that it was getting harder to work without you present.

He would never admit that he missed your sarcastic comments about the designs of the toys or how he missed to call you a germ, his germ, whenever you were getting to annoying.

Sometimes when you went to the cafeteria upstairs to get some coffee or a sandwich to eat, you would get him something too.

You haven't brought anything recently and that was because of your new obsession.

He finally finished the last transformation successfully, now the only thing left was for the experiment to wake up and for you to examine them.

Harley wandered through the corridors searching for the one room he knew you would be in, this time, he was the one bringing you a coffee.

He watched you through the crystal of the observation room. You always insisted on talking face to face with Doey. The mass of doe seemed calmer with you around. The two more peaceful personalities of Doey talked to you, voicing their regrets and fears. Though the violent part of the creature always seemed reluctant to talk to you. Not responding what was asked of him or simply not responding at all.

Dr ( Y/L/N), your presence is required in the observation room number 29- Sawyer interrupted your conversation. Doey seemed afraid for a moment only to turn his expression into an angry one. With a gesture of your hand you calmed him down and signaled silently for Harley to turn on the ice so the doe wouldn't scape.

You exited the room to find your coworker handing you a cup of coffee. You looked at him with a raised brow but accepted it either way.

Well, look who it is.-you said with satisfied grin- I thought you were supervising Yarnaby?- you commented

Yes I was, are you aware of how much time you spend with that... Mass?- he said with contempt- what's so fascinating about him anyways? He's only been trouble.

You're only trouble as far as I'm aware- he rolled his eyes you sipped again- he's a time bomb and I want to be there to see it explode- you finally responded- I want to be the germ that makes him mutate.

Germ... It's a fitting name for you- he laughed with a smooth voice.-

You both stayed silent in the middle of the room, he looked at you calmly while you ended your coffee. He was looking at you trough his glasses without blinking, with his tired eyes.

You looked back at him and when you realised he had his fist raised at you, brushing with his tumb the remaining coffee right next to your upper lip.

Neither of you realised how close you where, the dim light of the room illuminated both of your bodies. Yours against the door and his right in front of you, your external layers of clothing touching lightly.

He got even closer, feeling his breath against your own. His thumb caressing your cheek

He thought about everything that had happened recently. How Pierre and the ones closer to him had started to go against you both in the semanal meeting with the executives regarding the experiments. Pierre's demands being met by your indifference, claiming that you will keep securing the experiments as much as possible.

The doctor remembered how you, just as him, were completely devoted to the project. He had became paranoic for the past months. More irritable, unwilling to socialise with someone who wasn't you or the toys

He got even closer to you, he though he heard you whisper his name. You closed the gap between the both of you. Hands on his shoulders

Lip against lip, his hand still in your face. You felt that Harley was the only human you could trust down here. No one understood you like he did. Your desperation to contribute to humanity, your desire of achieving a more lasting body. One that could endure more.

If you ever shared this with anyone else, you'll probably be in trouble.

Your closeness with Harley and his with you was out of understanding, a feeling of trust and comfortability that had just materialised thought he kiss you were sharing with each other.

He slowly pulled apart, his breathing uneven and one of his locks of hair misplaced a slight smile on his face. His forehead touched yours and he whispered just above your lips- My germ~

Only if you knew... That exact same week Harley Sawyer would be reduce no nothing more than a system, a screen, a conscience.

At the mercy of playtimes desires while you... Well ... Your whereabouts were unknown, even though they knew you didn't get out of the building.

Somewhere... hiding between wires and toy corpses...

I'm in love with the voice of the doctor AKA Harley Sawyer.

My drawing of Harley Sawyer:

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 4 #harley sawyer #the doctor #harley sawyer x reader #leith pierre #x reader #fanfic #the doctor x reader #doey the doughman #poppy playtime doey

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simjaexy · 8 months ago

Text

𝙊𝙪𝙧 𝙇𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙎𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩 𝙎.𝙅

pairing — professor! sim jaeyun x (f) student! reader

synopsis — you always knew your professor was attractive, so it wasn’t new when girls would try to gain his attention. what you didn’t know though was that he only had his eyes on you. what comes as a friendly teacher-student relationship takes a turn when you find yourself thinking differently about him with your private lessons together.

genre — smut, angst

warnings — MINORS DNI!, lower case intended, four year age gap (jake is 22 and reader is 18), tons of jealousy, cursing, jake is obsessed with oblivious reader, dom! jaeyun x sub! reader, name calling (slut, whore, and etc.), (f) receiving, pussy eating, unprotected sex, cum eating, choking, multiple orgasms

w.c ⇀ 5.4k

a/n ⇀ i don’t know why but this was and on and off fic i was doing cause i didn’t really like but i’m glad i finally finished it. i can’t tell if this was good or not because i was stressing on how to put the ending so bear with me on that. reblog, like, comment, etc.! lmk if i missed any warnings! not proofread.

masterlist here

the first time you saw professor sim was during the orientation week. you were a freshman, nervous and excited about starting your journey in college. the campus was bustling with activity, and you were trying to find your way to the science building for your first lecture.

as you walked through the crowded hallway, you accidentally bumped into someone, "oh, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, looking up to see a tall man with a kind smile.

"no worries at all," he replied, adjusting his glasses. "are you lost?"

"uh, yeah, actually. I'm trying to find the science building," you admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"you're in luck. I'm heading there myself. i’m professor sim, by the way," he said, extending his hand.

you shook his hand, feeling a bit more at ease. "nice to meet you, professor sim. i’m l/n y/n.”

"well, y/n, follow me. i'll show you the way," he said, leading you through the maze of hallways. as you walked, you noticed his broad back through his suit. the suit fitting perfectly on him. you blushed watching him strut confidently past students and teachers watching him walk past.

you definitely won’t lie and say he’s not handsome. his glasses framing his face perfectly. you never knew you would like guys with glasses. he suddenly asked about your interests and what drew you to study science. his genuine interest in your answers made you feel welcome.

fast forward to the present, you were now in your second semester, and professor sim class had quickly become your favorite. his enthusiasm for science was infectious, and he had a knack for making even the most complex topics seem approachable. however, the latest homework assignment was proving to be a real challenge.

as you packed your notebooks and computer you saw a girl bluntly flirting with him. batting her eyelashes at him. it wasn’t new seeing different girls trying to talk to him, purposely saying they need help just to see him up close. you cleared your throat you gathered your courage and approached his desk. "professor sim, could I ask for some help with the homework? i’m really struggling with the concepts."

he looked up at you, a warm smile spreading across his face, completely ignoring the other girl in front of him. he probably knew what she was trying to do, "of course, i'd be happy to help. why don't you come by my office later this afternoon?"

the girl huffed at her non existence and walked away, leaving the both of you alone. you nodded, feeling a wave of relief.

later that day, you found yourself sitting across from him in his office. the room was filled with books and scientific models, and the faint smell of coffee lingered in the air.

"alright," he said, pulling up a chair next to you, "let's take a look at what you're having trouble with."

you pulled out your notebook, showing him the problems that had been giving you headaches. he patiently explained each step, breaking down the complex ideas into simpler terms. his explanations were clear and concise, and he used analogies that made the material more relatable.

"see? you're getting the hang of it," he encouraged, his eyes twinkling with pride. "sometimes all it takes is a different perspective."

as you worked through the problems together, you found yourself gaining a deeper understanding of the subject. you also couldn’t help but look at his side profile, his plump soft lips moving with passion for science was evident in every word he spoke, and it was impossible not to be inspired by his enthusiasm.

"thank you so much, professor jake," you said sincerely as you packed up your things. "i really appreciate your help."

"anytime, y/n. don't hesitate to reach out if you need more assistance," he replied with a smile.

you gave him another smile. you left his office feeling more confident and grateful for his guidance. professor sim had not only made the subject more accessible but had also shown you that with the right support, you could tackle even the toughest challenges.

over the next few weeks, you continued to visit his office for help, and each time, you left with a better understanding of the material. his encouragement and patience made all the difference, and you began to see science in a whole new light.

even though you guys only talked about science and just science, you couldn’t help but notice when sim would ask you questions outside of science. like ‘what do you think about your teachers?’ or ‘who’s your favorite teacher so far?’, and each time he’d ask, you would always say him.

one afternoon, as you were wrapping up another productive session, he asked, "so, y/n, have you thought about what you want to do after college?"

you paused, considering his question. it was new for him to ask that, "i'm not entirely sure yet. i know i want to do something in science, but I haven't decided on a specific path."

"that's perfectly fine," he said reassuringly. "you have plenty of time to figure it out. just remember to follow your passion and stay curious. the rest will fall into place."

you smiled, feeling a sense of reassurance, “thank you professor sim. i really appreciate that.”

you watch him push his hair back with a smile. you felt your heart skip a beat and immediately looked away, “i-i think i should get going. it’s getting pretty late.”

“you don’t need a ride do you? it’s pretty dark out since we practiced a bit longer than usual.” he reasoned. you thought for a moment. it is dark out and you don’t know who’s outside at this time. so, you nodded your head.

“great. i’ll tidy up before we go.” he said. you watched him put a few books away and tidying up his desk for tomorrow before grabbing his keys from his drawer. he then walked you to the door.

you both left the college and went to the parking lot. you felt yourself feeling nervous. it was your first time going with sim anywhere but his class. he went to a mercedes car making you hum in acknowledgement.

he chuckled at your reaction, “like it?” he teased. you nodded your head and giggled.

“i don’t really know cars that well, but i just know this one is expensive.” you said. his laugh causing a stir in your stomach.

you both entered the car and buckled up. he backed from the parking lot, “do you live on campus or somewhere else?” he asked.

“i live on campus, but the other one.” you spoke.

“you live pretty far? you walk here?” he murmured. he gazed at you curiously.

you chuckled, “it’s a good walk. i wake up a bit earlier so i’m not late for your class.”

he smiled at you, “if i would’ve known you go that far i’d spare you.” you shook your head and smiled back.

the car ride was silent, you let out a sigh and lay your head on the window. the past few days you haven’t been getting much sleep. you felt your eyes get a bit heavy.

“tired?” sim questioned. you opened your eyes back up and nodded.

“a little. sorry, haven’t really got much sleep. i’ve been so stressed out that i couldn’t sleep.” you joked, but it wasn’t really a joke.

sim hummed, he understood how tiring college could be, “you can take a nap. i mean if you want too. i’ll wake you up when we’re at the campus.” he said.

you smiled gratefully. soon your eyes became heavy and that’s when you fell asleep. your soft breathing soon filling the silence.

jake looked at your sleeping figure. you really were the prettiest student he’s ever seen. he knows it’s wrong to think of you like that. you’re supposed to be just a student to him, but he can’t help but think of something more.

your smile that makes him feel a type of way inside. your pretty laugh that he can’t help but adore. those thoughts were just something he thought weren’t bad, but his other thoughts were a bit more mature.

the way your outfits fit your body perfectly. your breast sitting perfectly in your bra, jiggling when you walk towards him. it’s hard for him not to get rock hard and stare. your fingers so pretty to him that he wonders if they're just as pretty inside your pussy. your glossy lips so pretty when they pout, he wonders what they would feel like around his dick. he just knows they’d stretch so pretty.

he soon parks the car in front of the campus. he shakes you softly, “y/n. we’re here.”

you groaned and turned away from him. he tried shaking you awake again, but you didn’t budge. he sighed and looked around. maybe he could just pick you up and take you to your dorm. that wouldn’t be weird right?

he got off his car and went to your side, opening the car door. he grabbed your backpack and slung it over his shoulder. he unbuckled your seatbelt and picked you up swiftly. he was hoping no one was awake at this time. he opened the door with his free hand and entered the building.

as soon as he unlocked your door he set you down on your bed with your bag on the chair. he couldn’t help but curiously look around. your room filled with collage photos of you and your friends. there was a photo of you and your parents. he slowly picked up the photo and smiled. you looked happy unlike the times you were in the halls.

he set it back down and was about to head out until he heard you making a noise, “sim please. down there.” you moaned out.

jake paused his walking and looked back at you. you were still sleeping, but your breathing started to become uneven and heavy. wait, were you having a dream about him?

he slowly prodded towards you and slightly shook you. you really were a deep sleeper. just then you let out another noise. it sounded like a whimper.

“fuck me sim.” you whispered.

what. the. fuck.

jake nearly choked on his spit. there was no way you talk this clearly in your sleep. were you joking with him? his breathing became unsteady with the uncomfortable feeling between his legs. he cursed at himself for still standing here and quickly left. locking the door on the way out.

he would just pretend he never heard you.

he couldn’t pretend. the whole day he was thinking about what you said last night. with him having to solve his little problem himself. you acted normally the way you did. you remembered he took you back to your campus cause you thanked him first thing when you saw him. if only he didn’t make it seem awkward.

you on the other hand was confused why professor sim was acting strange. were you snoring really loud in his car? you really hoped you didn’t.

as class came to an end, you packed your stuff. as you were packing you couldn’t help but look over at professor sim. your eyes went wide when you saw him talking to another female teacher. you didn’t even notice she came in.

they seem to be chatting about something funny cause sim was laughing a lot to what she was saying. you felt a weird feeling in your chest that you couldn’t describes. was it jealousy?

you sighed and put your bag over your shoulder and left the class without sparing another look. as you were walking you suddenly heard your name being called. you turn around expecting a specific person, but you saw that it was riki.

you gave him a fake smile, “hey riki.” you said. riki smiled once he caught up to you.

“are you okay? i tried texting you last night but you didn’t answer.” he asked. you pushed your hair behind your ear suddenly remembering last night again.

“o-oh i came home pretty early and fell asleep. did you need to talk about something?” you spoke.

riki nodded, “actually i was gonna talk to you about the project-“ “y/n.”

your eyebrows furrowed and looked behind riki, only to see none other than professor sim. he came closer to you guys, “you guys should head to class or you’ll be late, especially you mr. nishimura.”

the tone in professor sim kinda intimidated you. his voice bitter and sharp towards riki. riki nervously nodded his head and gave you a tight smile before walking past you. you looked at professor sim only to see him looking at you.

“did you need something professor sim?” you mumbled, feeling small under his strong gaze.

“don’t waste your time talking to guys and focus on your classes.” he suddenly said. his voice coming more harsh than he intended. your eyebrows furrowed felling a bit offended.

“excuse me?” you said “you should know i don’t waste my time on guys. riki isn’t just any guy, he’s my friend.”

before jake could say something you walked away. jake sighed and pushed his hair back. he didn’t mean to come out like that. he couldn’t shake that feeling of jealousy when he saw how close riki was to you. he’d have to apologize later.

you sighed when your last class finally finished. you were supposed to have your tutoring lesson with sim, but after that incident you don’t think you could go. you’ll just email him saying you’re sick. you left the college and walked to your campus.

you listened to a few playlists while walking. the cool breeze with the sunny sky made you feel relaxed. once you came to your campus you said hi to the lady up front and went to your room. you set your bag on the floor and sighed. a shower sounds good. before you went in the shower you emailed sim about your canc and shut your computer.

you took a quick shower and finished up. you wrapped a robe around your body and dried your hair with a towel, but before you could grab your phone you heard a knock at your door. you frowned, nobody barely knocks on your door, so who could it be. you opened the door and your eyes widened in surprise. it was sim.

“professor sim? what are you-“ “are you that mad at me?” he cut you off. you closed your mouth. is that why he came all the way here?

“professor sim im not mad-“ “so why are you ignoring me?” he said. you didn’t know it mattered that much to him.

“i-i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to cancel last minute.” you said. maybe that’s why he was upset. he doesn’t like when people cancel stuff last minute. he shook his head.

“i’m not mad if that’s what you’re thinking. i’m asking if you’re mad about what i did earlier.” he admitted. oh. that’s what he was talking about. to be honest you don’t know if you were really mad anymore. so, you shook your head.

“it’s okay. i’m sorry for being rude.” you muttered.

“i should say sorry too. i know you don’t do any of those things. i was just in a bad mood.” he said. was he really in a bad mood if he was talking to that female teacher happily?

you gave him a fake smile, “it’s okay professor sim. was that all you came here for.”

just as he was about to say something, he averted his gaze down and noticed you were in a robe. he felt his face burning and looked back up at you, “o-oh i’m sorry. did i interrupt your bathing time?” he stuttered.

“huh?”

you looked down and also noticed you were still in your robe. you gasped and moved the door in front of you, “i’m sorry!”

he tried shaking his head, but you just kept apologizing, “no it’s fine really! it’s my fault.”

you stopped apologizing and stared at him, awkwardness filling the air. he cleared his throat and looked back at you, “i-i’ll get going-“

“wait. i know this might sound weird, but do you wanna come in for a moment? we can do the lesson here if you're still up for it.” you thought. jake pondered for a moment before nodding.

you got done getting dress in your bathroom and came out. you saw sim sitting on the floor with textbooks on the wooden table you had in the middle of your room. he was looking around your room before staring at you.

you smiled at him and sat next to him, “we can start where we left off yesterday if that’s fine.” you said. he nodded and flipped the page to where you guys left off.

as you he taught you easy ways to get the answer, you felt yourself getting distracted once again by his visuals. you didn’t know what you were feeling at this point, it was a feeling you hated, but wanted to know more about. all of a sudden sim looked at you. you felt your breath get caught in your throat. he was staring at you with a questionable linger in his eyes. you felt his breath against your face. you guys were so close that if you moved a step your lips would touch.

“sim-“ “push me away if you don’t want this.” was all he said when you suddenly felt lips on yours.

you gasped and held tightly on his shirt. his lips molding against yours perfectly. you moaned when you felt his hand grip your ass, making him have access to enter his tongue. you felt your room getting hot as you lay on the ground with sim on top of you.

you took off his jacket while he helped you take it off without breaking the kiss. the dim lighting of your fairy lights making it seem darker than usual. he took off your shorts, only leaving your underwear on. he kissed and sucked along your jawline to your chest, kissing it gently. the sexual tension you guys had finally snapping in him. he lifted your shirt up and unclasped your bra. you felt the cold air hit your nipples and made a noise.

he smirked against your chest before gripping one breast and sucking the other. you let out a moan and gripped his locks. he groaned and pinched your nipple making you jerk.

“sim.” you whimpered. he looked up at you and departed from your breast.

he started unbuttoning his long sleeve button up, “call me jake.” he said. you bit your lip when you finally saw his toned body. god if you would’ve known he had that body under his suit you would’ve made a move sooner.

he leaned back down and kissed you gently, biting your lip making you sigh. you felt his right hand slowly going down until it made contact with your cloth pussy. you threw your head back when you suddenly felt him rub your folds up and down.

he dipped his hand in a second later and confused rubbing your folds, “fuck you’re so wet.” he murmured.

you nodded and kissed him again. both of your lips swollen. you wouldn’t want it any other way though. he took his fingers away and put them in his mouth. you watched intensely as he smirked at you. he got up and lifted you up bridal style before putting you on your bed. he unbuckled his pants and pulled them down revealing his boxers.

you gasp at the outline of his dick. you know it’s big. he got on top of you again and slid down your underwear. you felt yourself blushing with how he stared. you felt the urge to close your legs but before you could jake dipped his head down to your pussy.

“j-jake wait.” you moaned when you suddenly felt his hot tongue lick your folds.

he groaned as you gripped his hair again. he licked your folds again but this time he sucked on your clit. you thrash around at the new feeling as your eyes rolled back.

the sound of wet slurping noises was the only thing heard in your room. jake couldn’t get enough of your pussy. he was a completely pussy drunk man at this moment. your sweet juices leaking out, he knows you love it just as much as he does.

you felt a tight feeling in your pussy and patted his head, “j-jake m’gonna cum!” you cried out. he didn’t stop making you feel your climax coming. you let out one last moan before your orgasm finally hit. your legs shaking on the side of his head. he drummed up your cum like he was a dehydrated man.

you panted harshly and whined when he finally pulled away. he licked the rest on his chin, “fuck, you taste so good.” he says. he pulls his boxers down and that’s when you finally saw his dick. it was veiny and hard, precum at the tip.

“do you need to be prepped?” he said. you shook your head. you needed his dick in you now.

he positioned himself at your entrance before slowly pushing in. he groaned while you whimpered and held him tightly. he hissed when he felt you scratching at his back. slowly, he backed up and pushed back in so you could get used to the feeling.

a few minutes later you felt a pleasure tingling in your body, “j-jake faster. please.”

he didn’t need to be told twice. he started going at a faster pace and that’s when you were out of it. his tip hitting your g-spot.

“yes! right there! oh fuck!” you cried out. the sound of skin slapping, panting, and bed creaking was heard. you had a feeling people could hear you, but you could care less. especially with the way jake was fucking you.

he gripped your neck with a free hand, “such a little whore for dick. gonna be a good bitch for me?” he rasped out. you nodded your head frantically.

he felt you squeeze his dick and moaned. your pussy was a match made in heaven just for him.

you felt another orgasm coming and arched your back. he gripped your hips and snapped his hips harder. your orgasm hit you hard and you saw white. jake snapped his hips three more times before pulling his dick out, stroking himself on your stomach before cumming.

both of you panted uneven and hard. he got off your bed and grabbed the towel you used for your hair and wiped your stomach and wiped your pussy. you whined from sensitivity.

he grabbed another pair of pajamas for you and helped your put them on.

he put the towel in your dirty basket and went back to you, pushing your hair back, “i should get going.” he said.

you pouted, “do you have to leave?”

jake hated that he did, but he can’t get caught with his own student, “it’s for the better. you’ll see me tomorrow.”

you finally nodded your head. he covered you with your blanket and kissed your head, “goodnight beautiful.” he whispered. you soon dozed off into dreamland.

jake got dressed and looked at you one last time before shutting your door with a soft click.

you groaned feeling an ach in your body. you got up and went to your bathroom. you looked at yourself in the mirror and gasped. your neck was covered in hickeys from your neck to your chest. you traced your fingers along them and slowly smiled.

you took another shower and got dressed for the day. you out on a crew neck to cover your hickeys. good thing it was cold out today.

you soon got to the campus and entered your class to see jake already there typing on his computer. he didn’t notice you so you decided to sit down at your seat. once the bell ring he looked up from his computer and spotted you. he gave you a knowing grin before standing up, getting ready for the lecture.

“alright guys, did you finish the homework from yesterday?” he chimed. students began taking out their notes and handed them in. you turned yours in too. jake continued his lecture until the bell rang. students left the class while you waited until everyone left.

you went up to his desk and gave him a smile. he got up and gave you a hug. you giggled and stuffed your face in his neck.

“your not hurt anywhere are you?” he asked. you shook your head. he sighed in relief before letting you go.

“same time at my place?” you said. jake chuckled and quickly pecked your lips.

“i can’t today. i have a meeting to attend.” he spoke. you pouted, but understood.

“okay. i’ll see you later though right?” you said. he chuckled at your urgent question and nodded.

“of course you will beautiful.” he replied. you smiled cheerfully before leaving his class so he could attend his meeting.

over the next few days it would be the same. jake would come over to your dorm and would spend time with you, either having loving sex or just spending time together. everything was going just the way you wanted it too. until an incident happened.

rumors started to spread around campus. whispers of favoritism and inappropriate relationships between you and professor sim filled the halls. despite your best efforts to ignore them, the pressure was mounting.

one evening, after a particularly stressful day, jake asked to meet you in his office.

you opened the door to his office to see him already there in deep thought. you let out a gulp before going towards him, “jake?”

he looked up at you, but it wasn’t with the same loving look he usually gave you. “y/n, we need to talk," he began, his voice heavy with emotion. "i think we should stop what we’re doing. what we had was nothing but satisfaction we wanted to get off our chests.”

your heart sank, where was he coming from with this? satisfaction? getting it off our chest? you couldn’t help but feel tears pricking your eyes, “w-what do you mean? don’t you love me?”

jake stared at you as if you were just a regular person to him, “y/n, what we had wasn’t love. you were just a way to relive my stress. whatever you thought we had ends here. you may be dismissed.”

the lack of emotions in his voice finally made your tears fall freely.

you let out a sob, “i hate you! don’t ever talk to me again!” you screamed out before leaving his room, slamming the door shut.

weeks went by, and the pain of the breakup lingered. you threw yourself into your studies, trying to keep your mind off jake. even though you had him first period and he was your professor, you made a good route on ignoring him. none of it was easy, but you found solace in your friend, riki, who had always been there for you. his presence was comforting, and slowly, you began to smile again.

“are you gonna have that?” riki asked. you rolled your eyes at him before smiling. you gave him your cookie which he happily accepted.

you both were currently waiting at a bus station. after riki found out you walk a long way to the college, he insisted on paying for your bus rides as long as he gets to go with you.

“it’s way too cold out today.” you commented. riki nodded his head as he munched on the cookie. you shivered when a gust of wind blew at you guys. riki noticed your freezing state.

“come closer to me.” he said. you scooted a bit closer to him and lay your head on his shoulder. you sighed at somewhat of a closer warm feeling. as you guys continued waiting you saw a familiar car stopping in front of you guys. your eyes widened when the driver door suddenly opened revealing jake.

before you could think, jake yanked your wrist and pulled you away from riki. you yelped and tried taking your wrist away from him.

“what the hell are you doing?” you snapped at him. riki got up and tried to help you but jake stopped him.

“get the hell away or you’ll regret it.” he gritted his teeth. riki stopped and looked at you worriedly. you shook your head at him not to come any further. jake took you to his car, opening the passenger door and setting you inside. he slammed it shut before going to the drivers seat and entering.

you silently watched him start the car, leaving riki in the cold. you felt guilty and angry and looked at jake, “let me go jake! i wanna be with riki!” you yelled.

jake ignored you. you scoffed, “jake seriously. let me go!”

“stop talking or i’ll find a way to make you.” he said. you immediately stopped ranting and stared at him. you decided to stay silent. you knew you couldn’t fight him when it came to this.

in all honesty jake never felt so jealous before until now. you were so close to riki that something inside him snapped. at first he was gonna let it go since he’s the one that initiated the end to your relationship, but he saw a spark in your eyes that he hadn't seen in a while.

a pang of regret hit him hard. he realized that letting you go was a mistake. the rumors and the pressure seemed insignificant compared to the happiness he saw in your eyes.

you arrived at a building. you assumed it was an apartment building. jake opened your door when he came out. you stepped out when he grabbed your wrist and took you inside.

when you finally got to a room he unlocked it with a pin and entered it. the first thing you saw was shelves lined with scientific journals and textbooks, a whiteboard covered in equations and diagrams, but amidst all the science, there was also a comfy reading nook with a big, plush armchair and a collection of classic novels. you noticed how he had a nice window view of the city night. now that you thought of it, it was your first time at his place.

“you can take your jacket off.” he said. slowly, you took off your jacket. he grabbed it and settled it on a rack.

you stood there awkwardly and waited for his next move. he extended his hand out for you to grab. you took it as he walked you to the couch, “i’ll go get us some drinks.”

you sat down on the couch and waited. you didn’t know what to talk about to him. he came back with a drink and handed it to you. you grabbed it and took a small sip. he sat down next to you and that’s when he made he contact with you, but this time he had that same old look he gave you back then.

"y/n, I made a mistake," he confessed. "seeing you with riki made me realize how much i miss you. i thought i was protecting you, but all I did was hurt you. can you ever forgive me?"

you took a deep breath, the memories of your time together flooding back. you wanted to just drop everything and forgive him, but you knew it’s best to face reality.

“professor sim-“ “jake.” he cut you off.

you sighed, “jake, i forgive you, but i don’t think we can go back to the way it was. what you said really did hurt me that i couldn’t even eat or sleep. i don’t wanna go that same route again.”

jake looked at you regretfully. you just wanted to hug him and hold him forever. he stared down, “i understand. i don’t blame you at all. i really did fuck it up cause i was a coward.” he admitted.

“you’re not a coward jake. you just didn’t wanna lose your job.”

“but i lost you instead.” he said. now it was your turn to stare down. jake slowly lifted your head up with his hand under your chin.

"I promise y/n, i’ll do anything to get you back." he promised.

you gave him a smile. you know it’ll take time to work things out, but you knew if you did it together, nothing would stop you guys from being with each other. so, you cupped your hand on his and gave him a reassuring smile.

“i’m counting you on that sim jake. and if you do get me back, it can be our little secret.”

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maiko-san · 1 year ago

Text

Catnap + Dogday x Reader ( Part 1 )

Part 2 >>>

Relationship : Fluff

Reader : Female, age 20.

Plot : You are one of the Playcare employees that looks after the Smiling Critters and makes sure all the mascots are in good shape.

The very first day you were assigned to the Playcare, you didn't expect the mascot to be huge and very tall. Hell, even taller than Huggy Wuggy themselves!

You were nervous to be around these mascots but it was your job to keep them at a top notch.

Dogday, the leader of the smiling critters was the first to greet you. His personality is as bright as the sun necklace around his neck.

The others follow his lead and greet you with smiles on their faces, welcoming you to the daycare.

Well, except one.

Which was Catnap.

The purple cat mascot is high up on one of the buildings, watching everything from above and his eyes looking down at you, judging you from afar.

For the first week, you monitor the smiling critters and their behaviours. The others are fine interacting with the children, except for Catnap who prefers to be on his own.

You tried to get the cat to do his job but the mascot refused to listen to you. Which was frustrating.

You were amazed that the technology in place is far more advanced and the mascots in this Playtime Co. have their own personalities like a real person would which was..... intriguing and at the same time.... terrifying.

According to Dogday, Catnap used to be very friendly but he had been distancing himself from the group recently.

He never knows why.

The supervisor told you that Catnap was the most troublesome in the group and they said to keep an eye on the cat and make sure he does his work and doesn't get in any trouble.

It would take time for you to properly work with him. So, you respect the mascot's boundaries and try interacting with him slowly.

Day by day, you make sure to visit him first every time your shift starts. you greet Catnap with a 'Good morning' and 'How are you doing?'.

The cat only stares at you with a swishing tail, you set down a bag of croissants and look up at the mascot.

"Hey, Catnap! If you're hungry, you can have these croissants! Eat it while it's still fresh, okay bud. You can't work with an empty stomach!"

"......"

Again, he just stares at you.

You also learn that these mascots are able to consume organic matter which again shocks you, so you always sneak in some food from the cafe for all the smiling critters, in secret.

The smiling critters began to like you and saw you as their favourite out of all the employees.

Things go on normally in the daycare, the smiling critters keep themselves busy with the children ( that you weren't allow to interact with )

You spend your time in the office and look through the papers. When you were about to take a sip of the hot drink from your cup—

"Hiya, there! Mrs. (L/n)!"

"Oh, f—k!"

You jump out from your seat and some of the hot drink spilled onto your pants causing you to curse under your breath.

It was Dogday.

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!"

The dog apologises for startling you and offers you a handkerchief that magically appears out of thin air.

You said you were alright. You turn to ask what makes Dogday come to your office.

The smiling critter just said he wants to see you, saying to you that you have been coup up in your office for hours now.

You were grateful that he was concerned about you but you told him that the papers kept you busy.

"Sorry, bud. I just have a lot of papers to look through. Ya know, I have to keep all of you in shape"

"I see. Thank you for caring and taking care of us angel........unlike the others—anyways!"

Dogday whispers the last part which cannot be heard clearly by you.

"Do you need help with anything? I'm free! I can help you with everything and as a leader of the Smiling Critters, it is also my job to help you too!"

Dogday offers a helping hand, his tail swishing as he awaits for your answers.

You told him you do need help sorting out the papers into the folders which the dog excitedly said yes.

He sits on the floor next to you, since how tall he is. You point out the paper that he needs to sort out in the correct order.

Dogday have trouble picking up the papers with his large hands. You couldn't help but stifle at the sight, yet he managed to find a way of picking up the paper without crumpling it.

After a few hours passed. The bell rings loudly, signalling it was recess time.

You stretch your limbs and stand up from your chair, you turn to Dogday who already finished sorting out all the papers.

"You did a great job there, Dogday. Thank you!"

"Hehe, no problem Mrs. (L/n)! Glad to help!"

"Just call me, (Y/n). Dogday. No need to be so formal and besides I'm not THAT old..."

"Alright, (Y/n)!"

You yawn escape your mouth as you rub your eye, a nice nap is the only thing that comes to your mind after a long hour of paperwork.

Dogday notices how tired you look.

"A good nap will make you feel energetic afterwards!"

"Yeah, it does. I'm going to the staffroom and sleep there. You can go back to the playcare, Dogday"

But the orange dog didn't leave and instead picks you up which surprises you.

Dogday held you close to his body and said.

"No need! You can sleep here with me!"

His arms wrap around your smaller body, your face buried into his chest and his fur smells like vanilla. Which was comforting....

Before you know it, you already drift off to sleep.

"Sleep well, angel...."

Next day.

Following the same routine, you visit Catnap again but the cat was nowhere in sight.

You call out for the feline and you hear a loud thud behind you. Hot breath tickles your back which causes you to quickly turn around to see the purple cat staring at you with beady white eyes.

You hold out an apple pie to him, which the cat takes and devours with a wide open mouth.

"I want....more"

"Huh?"

"More....sweets..."

It was the first time you heard Catnap speak, his voice was deep and distorted.

You now have learned that Catnap likes sweets. Which gives you quite an advantage over him.

"Yes, you can have more sweets.....If you do your job"

You told the cat which he grunts roughly in return.

"You can request any kind of sweets you want in return, I promise. Just as long you do your job as a play care attendant"

Catnap seemingly thinking about the deal that you had offered to him. The sweets seems to get to him since he never gets to eat such food....

It was tempting and he finally agrees with you.

"Okay..."

With that simple okay, Catnap begins to do his job in the play care to Dogday's delight.

After the shift is over, you give Catnap his sweet treats as you promised.

"Haha! See, it wasn't that hard, right! You did a great job there, Catnap! If you keep doing that, I might bake you a cake!"

You praised the feline mascot with a bright smile. Which causes the feline to look away slightly.

The feeling of praise makes his heart flutter with warmth.....

It was a very long day at work and you bid the smiling critters a good night before you leave the playcare.

Unknown to you, some of the higher ups have noticed how well you do with the Smiling Critters.

You are safe....

For now....

A/n : There will be more interaction with Catnap in the next chapter! I am aware that Catnap is Theo which is a child!

I am not sure who resides in Dogday and he might be one of the employees of the playcare since he knows so much.

Relationship between the three would be fluff. If romance, it could be focused on Dogday maybe...?

Well, it's up to you guys.

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #dogday #catnap #dogday x reader #catnap x reader #smiling critters #poppy playtime x reader #various x reader #fluff

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tobiosbbyghorl · 21 days ago

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Code Blue, Hearts Too | psh

650 followers special!

pairing: student nurse! sunghoon x nurse! reader

wc: 10k

synopsis: Y/N, a dedicated nurse, and Sunghoon, a graduating student nurse, as they navigate the intense world of healthcare and a growing, undeniable attraction. From late-night shifts to stolen moments in supply closets, their professional bond turns into something deeper, but when rumors threaten Sunghoon’s graduation, Y/N pulls away to protect him. Can their connection survive the rules of mentorship, or will love break through the walls they’ve built?

The emergency department was already humming with tension when Y/N walked through the automatic doors, her badge swinging and her coffee still hot. Another day, another double shift. The fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, but it was the familiar scent—antiseptic, sterile plastic, adrenaline—that grounded her. She was used to chaos. Thrived in it, even.

What she wasn’t used to was the new student nurse already standing at the nurses’ station, leaning far too comfortably against the counter like he owned the place.

He looked up as she approached, and the first thing she noticed was his face—sharp jawline, soft brown eyes, hair perfectly parted even at 6:58 in the morning. His ID badge hung around his neck, revealing:

Park Sunghoon. Student Nurse. Final Year.

“Morning,” he said with a smirk. “You must be Nurse L/N.”

She blinked. “And you must be too early.”

He laughed softly, unbothered. “I figured I should make a good first impression.”

“You’re not shadowing a CEO, Sunghoon. Just don’t kill a patient, and we’re good.”

He followed her down the hallway as she gave him a quick rundown of the day’s expectations. “You’ve been assigned to me for the next six weeks. Final rotation. That means I’m responsible for everything you do, good or bad. So, no flirting with patients, no disappearing for long bathroom breaks, and no thinking you know more than the nurses.”

“Do people usually flirt with patients?” he asked innocently, walking beside her. “Is that a thing?”

She gave him a look. “Not unless you want to be thrown into the linen chute.”

He grinned. “Noted.”

⸻

Just before the shift officially began, two more student nurses entered the ward—Jungwon and Sunoo—chatting quietly with clipboards in hand.

“Hey, you’re with Nurse L/N today, right?” Jungwon asked, glancing at Sunghoon with a quick smirk.

Sunghoon nodded. “Yeah. I’m with the scary one.”

Y/N raised a brow. “I can hear you.”

Sunoo stepped forward with a bright smile. “That’s why we like you, though. You keep us sharp.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile back. “Good answer.”

Sunghoon blinked at the sudden friendliness. “Wait, you guys have already warmed up to her?”

Jungwon shrugged. “She actually helped me last week during a code. Told me exactly what to do. Super chill under pressure.”

“Also, she got me juice when I passed out during my first blood draw,” Sunoo added dramatically. “She’s basically our mom now.”

Y/N gave Sunghoon a look. “You could learn from your friends.”

“Oh, I will,” Sunghoon muttered, jaw tight. “I’ll be your favorite by week three.”

“We’ll see,” she said, already walking away. “Try to survive day one first.”

⸻

The shift was packed from the start. A suspected stroke in bay four. A toddler with a febrile seizure. A motorbike accident that left one man with a crushed femur and another with a punctured lung.

Sunghoon kept up better than she expected. He had quick hands and a focused stare. But there was still an edge of arrogance—like he knew he was good, and that made him a little reckless.

“Clamp the line tighter,” she barked at him as he adjusted a pressure bag. “You’re gonna let his pressure drop if you keep second-guessing.”

He nodded and followed, but she noticed the subtle clench of his jaw.

After the trauma was wheeled to CT, she caught him rubbing the back of his neck by the med cart.

“You did okay,” she admitted. “But this isn’t school. People crash fast here. You hesitate, they die.”

“I know,” he said. His tone was softer now. Less cocky. “I just—I didn’t want to screw it up.”

She looked at him a second longer than necessary. There was something in his voice. Vulnerability, maybe. But she turned away.

“Get used to screwing up,” she said. “Just don’t make a habit of it.”

⸻

They had dinner during their break—microwaved rice bowls in the staff lounge. Jungwon and Sunoo sat on the couch, halfway into a game of cards, while Sunghoon ended up at the table across from Y/N.

Sunoo glanced between them with a sly grin. “So, how’s Nurse Y/N treating you, Sunghoon?”

“She’s terrifying,” Sunghoon deadpanned.

“She’s nice to us,” Jungwon added with a shrug.

Y/N sipped her coffee with a smirk. “He just needs to earn it.”

Sunghoon met her eyes. “And how do I do that?”

“Stop trying to impress everyone and start listening,” she said simply.

He stared at her for a beat too long before replying, “You always this honest?”

“Only when I like someone,” she shot back, then stood. “You’ve got ten minutes left of break. Don’t be late.”

As she walked out, Sunoo elbowed Sunghoon with a grin. “Bro. You’re screwed.”

Sunghoon only sighed, eyes still on the door. “I know.”

⸻

Rounds were always chaotic, especially during the early shift change. Y/N walked quickly, her chart open in one hand, coffee in the other. Sunghoon trailed behind her, notepad tucked into his scrubs, trying to match her pace without tripping over a rolling IV pole.

“Keep up,” she said without looking back.

“I’m literally on your heels.”

“That’s the problem. Stay two steps behind. This isn’t a runway.”

He scoffed. “You walk like it is.”

She glanced over her shoulder with a raised brow. “Was that… your attempt at flirting?”

“No,” he said too fast.

She smirked. “Pity. I was gonna rate it a generous five.”

They reached the first bay—an elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Han, in for a minor fall. Mrs. Han sat beside the bed, clinging to her husband’s hand like he was still twenty-five and invincible.

“Good morning, Mr. Han,” Y/N greeted. “How’s the hip?”

“Still attached, thanks to you,” he said with a chuckle. Then his eyes drifted to Sunghoon, standing at the end of the bed, holding the chart.

Mrs. Han leaned in, squinting through her glasses. “Omo, is this your boyfriend?”

Sunghoon nearly dropped the clipboard.

Y/N laughed. “Definitely not. He’s a student.”

“He’s too handsome to be just a student,” Mrs. Han said slyly. “You should keep him.”

Sunghoon turned pink as Y/N smirked and scribbled something onto the chart.

“See? Even grandma’s rooting for you,” she muttered under her breath.

“She called me handsome,” he whispered back. “You’re just jealous.”

Y/N didn’t dignify that with a response—just handed him the chart and walked off.

He followed her into the next bay. “You are a little jealous.”

“I am your supervisor,” she said sweetly. “Don’t tempt me to assign you to mop duty.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Wanna bet?”

He shut up after that—but the smug grin didn’t leave his face.

⸻

Later, they took vitals in the surgical observation ward, charted on tablets side-by-side, and bantered their way through patient interviews.

Sunghoon actually made her laugh at one point—like, really laugh—when a grumpy patient kept refusing meds and he deadpanned, “Sir, if you don’t take this Tylenol, I will personally write your obituary and make it dramatic.”

She snorted, then slapped his arm. “Stop. That’s not appropriate.”

“Did he take it, though?”

She shook her head, amused. “I hate that you’re good with people.”

He grinned. “Admit it. You like me a little.”

“Not even close.”

That softness—her half-smiles, the way she teased him without meaning harm, the way she still watched over him when she thought he wasn’t looking—lingered in his mind as they returned to the ER.

Sunghoon was mid-thought, debating whether to ask if she wanted coffee after rounds, when the trauma pager blared overhead.

CODE BLUE, TRAUMA BAY 2. MALE, 40s. UNRESPONSIVE. ETA 3 MINUTES.

The mood snapped.

Y/N was already moving. “Sunghoon, come on.”

They hit the trauma bay with barely a second to spare. The paramedics wheeled in a man pale and limp on the stretcher, the oxygen mask slipping slightly from his face.

“Suspected overdose,” one of the EMTs reported. “Unresponsive on scene. RR dropped en route.”

“Get him on the monitor,” the attending ordered. “Where’s the bag-valve mask?”

“I’ve got it,” Sunghoon said, reaching for the crash cart.

But the drawer jammed.

A beat passed.

Then another.

He looked up—saw the patient’s chest stalling. No air. No movement.

And he froze.

Everything blurred. The beeping. The shouting. His own heartbeat pounding louder than the alarms.

Y/N’s voice sliced through the chaos. “Bag him. Now!”

Still, his fingers didn’t move.

She shoved past him, mask already fitted in her hand. “I’ve got it!” she snapped, sealing the mask and beginning ventilation. “Start compressions! Move!”

The team jumped in, efficient, fast.

And Sunghoon just stood there.

Useless.

⸻

The patient stabilized. The code ended.

And Y/N didn’t say a word as she walked straight out of the bay.

Sunghoon followed her down the hall, chest tight, his skin burning with shame. When she pushed open the supply closet and yanked him in by the wrist, he didn’t resist.

The door clicked shut.

The air inside was tense and heavy. The overhead light flickered slightly, and the faint antiseptic scent filled the silence between them.

“What the hell happened out there?” she demanded.

He stared at the floor. “I—I froze. I know. I messed up.”

“You could’ve lost him, Sunghoon.”

“I know!” he snapped, voice breaking. “I knew exactly what to do, I just… I couldn’t move.”

She crossed her arms. “Why not?”

His voice dropped, defeated. “Because I didn’t want to do it wrong. Not in front of you.”

Y/N’s anger dulled into something more pained. “This isn’t about me.”

“It kind of is,” he admitted. “You’re the one I want to impress the most.”

That hung between them.

“You think I’m trying to be the best student nurse?” he asked, voice quieter now. “I’m trying to be good enough—for this place, for the patients… for you.”

Her lips parted slightly, surprised. But she didn’t move.

He took a hesitant step closer.

“I know I’m not there yet. But I want to be. And I need you to keep pushing me, even when I screw up. Especially then.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed, voice soft. “You scared me today.”

“I scared myself.”

He was too close now. The air too warm. Their eyes locked.

“You really care that much about what I think?” she asked, tone gentler.

He gave a short laugh, dry and honest. “You terrify me and I like it. That should tell you everything.”

She blinked—startled by the rawness of it.

The silence stretched, her heart thudding like it wanted to break the rules she’d set.

She reached for the door, voice low. “You’ll do better next time.”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah.”

Her hand paused on the knob. “Sunghoon?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not the only one who’s scared.”

Then she left.

Leaving him alone, pulse racing, staring at the door like it had taken all the air with it.

⸻

The supply closet door shut behind her with a quiet finality, and Sunghoon stood there for a full ten seconds before realizing he needed to breathe again.

He leaned against the shelves, exhaled, and scrubbed a hand over his face.

You’re not the only one who’s scared.

Her words replayed over and over in his head like a record skipping in a quiet room.

He was still flushed when he stepped back out into the hall, only to come face-to-face with two devils in pastel scrubs.

Sunoo raised an eyebrow. “So… you and Nurse Y/N gonna make out in every supply closet or just this one?”

Sunghoon nearly choked. “What the—how long were you standing there?”

“Long enough,” Jungwon said innocently. “Is that what they meant by hands-on learning?”

Sunghoon groaned and tried to walk past them, but Sunoo blocked the way like a mischievous wall of judgment.

“Oh no, you’re not getting out of this. What happened in there? She looked… flustered.”

“So did you,” Jungwon added helpfully.

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes. “You two seriously need to get a hobby.”

Sunoo gasped, fake-offended. “You are our hobby.”

“You’ve been heart-eyed for her since orientation,” Jungwon said, casually flipping through his clipboard. “It’s kind of adorable. Kind of pathetic.”

“I’m not—” Sunghoon began.

“—in love with her?” Sunoo cut in. “Please. You literally follow her around like a puppy. When she yells at you, you look happy.”

“I do not.”

“She called you incompetent yesterday,” Jungwon said. “You said ‘thank you’ like it was a compliment.”

Sunghoon sighed dramatically. “It was constructive criticism.”

Sunoo smirked. “Look, no shame. We get it. She’s hot. She’s terrifying. That’s… kind of your type?”

“I don’t have a type,” Sunghoon muttered.

“Oh, you do,” Jungwon said. “And it wears black compression socks, drinks three cups of coffee before 9 a.m., and rolls her eyes every time you try to impress her.”

Sunghoon scowled, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “You two are actually insane.”

“And you’re in denial,” Sunoo said brightly. “Just confess already.”

“Not happening.”

“Why not?”

“She’s a registered nurse. I’m still a student. And she literally threatened to assign me to mop duty yesterday.”

Sunoo wiggled his brows. “Kinky.”

“Get out of my face.”

⸻

Later that afternoon, the three of them reviewed cases together in the student breakroom. Y/N passed by once—just once—and Sunghoon immediately straightened up like he’d been caught doing something wrong.

She didn’t even glance at him.

But Sunoo did. He leaned over and whispered, “You’re so whipped, it’s actually poetic.”

Sunghoon threw a pen at him.

⸻

The hospital’s volunteer-run community clinic was smaller, slower-paced—an intentional shift from the high-pressure chaos of the ER. But that didn’t mean it was calm. It just had a different kind of buzz: tired patients with long waits, kids squirming in plastic chairs, and the hum of fluorescent lights overhead.

It was also—unfortunately for Sunghoon—where he had his Friday rotation.

With Y/N.

And Sunoo.

And Jungwon.

A dream and nightmare rolled into one.

⸻

Sunghoon stepped through the clinic’s back entrance, balancing a tray of vending machine coffees, and almost immediately collided with Y/N, who was shrugging into her navy cardigan.

“Whoa—sorry!” he said quickly, coffee tray wobbling.

She steadied it with one hand, the other grabbing his forearm instinctively. “You good?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “You?”

Their eyes locked—just for a beat too long.

Then she dropped her hand and nodded at the cups. “Are any of those for me?”

He blinked. “Oh. Yeah. Here.” He handed her the exact one she liked: two sugars, no cream.

She raised a brow, impressed. “Look at you. Learning something useful.”

He smiled, a little proud. “Still terrified of you, though.”

“Good,” she said, smirking behind her cup. “Keeps you sharp.”

Sunghoon didn’t realize he was still watching her until Jungwon came up from behind and whispered, “Blink twice if you’re in love.”

Sunghoon glared. “Get a clipboard, Jungwon.”

⸻

Inside, the clinic was packed. They divided tasks: Y/N handled triage and diagnostics, while Sunghoon assisted with wound dressings and quick consults. Jungwon ran back and forth between rooms, and Sunoo—somehow—ended up entertaining the waiting kids by drawing cats on gauze pads.

Hours passed in a blur of stethoscopes, bandages, and sneaked glances.

Sunghoon was finishing up with an elderly patient when Y/N stepped into the room to help wrap the man’s foot.

Their fingers brushed as they reached for the gauze at the same time.

It was subtle—but the spark was immediate.

She didn’t pull away.

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

“For what?”

“Not giving up on me. After the code last week.”

Her eyes softened, just slightly. “I told you. You’ll get better.”

“I want to be the kind of nurse you’d trust on your team someday.”

A beat of silence.

Then her voice, softer. “You already are.”

⸻

Later, during a lull, Sunghoon collapsed into the break room chair, exhausted. Y/N was already there, legs curled under her on the worn-out couch, eating half a granola bar and scrolling through her phone.

He sat down across from her, resting his head against the wall.

She peeked over. “Long day?”

“I can’t feel my spine.”

She tossed him the other half of her granola bar. “Here. Eat. You look like you’re about to code yourself.”

He caught it mid-air, surprised. “You sharing snacks now? Is this… progress?”

“Don’t make it weird.”

“You’re literally hand-feeding me.”

“I threw it at your face.”

“Same thing.”

She laughed—just a soft one, but real. He’d take it.

That’s when Sunoo and Jungwon appeared in the doorway like twin demons.

“Wow,” Sunoo said loudly. “Intimate snack-sharing. We’ll leave you two alone.”

Sunghoon threw the granola wrapper at him.

“Do you guys need supervision?” Y/N asked, deadpan.

“Only if you’re into that,” Jungwon quipped.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Go clean something.”

They didn’t move.

So she stood up—slowly—and added, “Or I’ll assign you both to bathroom inventory.”

They scrambled like rats.

Sunghoon was laughing when she sat back down beside him.

“You’re scarier than our preceptors.”

“I’m softer than I look,” she said.

And for a second, he saw it.

The quiet kindness. The way her guard slipped when she thought no one was watching. The warmth in her eyes when she wasn’t putting up walls.

He shifted closer.

She didn’t move away.

For one long moment, the clinic buzz faded. It was just them, shoulder to shoulder, sitting on a cracked leather couch with the fluorescent lights humming above.

Their faces were too close.

His voice came out a whisper. “Can I ask you something?”

Her eyes flicked to his, then his lips. “Yeah?”

He hesitated.

She leaned in just a little—

Then the intercom crackled: “Nurse Y/N, consult in Room 3.”

She blinked, pulled away fast. “Duty calls.”

He exhaled hard as she stood.

Before leaving, she paused, glanced back at him, and smirked. “Next time you want to kiss me, you might have to be faster.”

Then she was gone.

And Sunghoon sat there, stunned, heart in his throat, replaying that one sentence over and over.

⸻

Morning Shift.

The first patient of the day was an elderly man with a broken arm. He was chatty, more interested in talking about his cat than his injury, and Sunghoon was grateful for the distraction.

Y/N stood next to him, handing him the necessary forms with a soft smile, but the moment Sunghoon’s hand brushed hers again—completely by accident—there was that unmistakable charge in the air.

She cleared her throat and quickly moved to gather supplies. “You’re clumsy, Sunghoon,” she said, her voice a little higher than usual. “I’m surprised you’re not still tripping over your own feet.”

“I don’t trip—well, maybe a little,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. “But I’m learning.”

She rolled her eyes. “You better. Or I’ll have to start assigning you to less dangerous tasks. Maybe holding the clipboard for me. You know, the easy stuff.”

Sunghoon watched her as she worked, her eyes focused on the task at hand, yet the smallest smile tugged at the corners of her lips whenever their eyes met. He couldn’t help but wonder if she was trying to avoid something.

⸻

Lunchtime.

By noon, the clinic quieted down a bit. The lull was always the best time to catch a breath, and Sunghoon found himself walking into the break room to grab a drink. He didn’t expect to see Y/N sitting alone by the window, her coat draped over the chair beside her.

For a moment, the sight of her alone, so casually relaxed, made his chest tighten. He felt that familiar pull to sit next to her, to talk to her like they’d done so many times during their shifts. But this time, the tension was undeniable, like there was something more there, waiting to be addressed.

He approached cautiously, but as soon as she saw him, her gaze flicked up to meet his, and she froze.

“Sunghoon,” she said, her voice almost too soft. “What’s up?”

He didn’t trust his voice, so instead, he sat beside her. There was no question—it was comfortable. Despite the unspoken tension, there was a strange ease in the air between them.

Y/N turned her gaze back to the window, and Sunghoon mirrored her. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. It felt like there was something pressing between them, but neither of them knew how to bring it up without breaking the fragile silence.

“You know,” she said, breaking the quiet, “You’re always quiet when you’re near me. Like you’re afraid to say something wrong.”

Sunghoon’s heart skipped a beat. He turned to look at her, only to find her watching him with that damn knowing expression. The one that had been driving him mad for weeks now.

“I’m not afraid,” he said, though his voice came out quieter than intended. “I just… don’t want to mess up.”

Her eyes softened, and for the first time in a long while, she looked at him without that professional edge.

“You’ve been trying really hard, haven’t you?” she asked gently. “To be better. To be good enough.”

Sunghoon didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just nodded, feeling an unfamiliar tightness in his chest.

Before he could say anything else, the door to the break room slammed open, and in walked Sunoo and Jungwon, both grinning like they knew something he didn’t.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Sunoo said, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “A quiet moment between the nurse-in-training and the actual nurse?”

Sunghoon shot him a glare, but Jungwon was already leaning in, whispering to him, “Is this where you confess, or do we need to stage a covert mission?”

Y/N snorted, unable to hide her amusement, and that was enough to send Sunghoon’s frustration bubbling over. “You two are impossible,” he muttered under his breath, though there was no real malice behind his words.

Jungwon tapped Sunghoon’s shoulder and pointed to the door. “We’re on call in five. Time to get back to pretending to be competent, right?”

⸻

Late Night Shift.

By the time evening rolled around, the shift had become a blur. The patients were all routine, but the real chaos was brewing in the air between him and Y/N. They were slowly closing up for the night when she caught him staring at her again.

This time, she didn’t let it slide.

“You’re looking at me again,” she said, a little teasing, but her voice was softer than before. “Is there something on my face?”

Sunghoon snapped out of his trance, but before he could answer, a loud beeping noise interrupted them—the monitor at the nurse’s station was flashing.

Without thinking, Sunghoon jumped up to check, but as he did, his foot caught on the edge of the chair, and he stumbled forward.

Y/N rushed to catch him, her hands landing on his chest, and their faces were suddenly inches apart.

Neither of them moved.

For a long second, neither of them said anything. Sunghoon’s pulse was pounding in his ears as he realized how close they were, how easy it would be to just lean in…

But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

The moment passed, but it left them both breathless.

“I—” Sunghoon began, but Y/N cut him off.

“Just get the monitor,” she said quickly, stepping back.

Sunghoon nodded, feeling the heat on his face. It was like a weight pressing down on his chest, and he wasn’t sure if he could handle it for much longer.

He got the monitor under control, but as he walked back to Y/N, he couldn’t help but feel the unspoken tension pulling them back together.

Before he could say anything, Sunoo and Jungwon walked by the hallway, glancing at them, then smirking.

“Guys, it’s cute, but please—no one’s dying of a broken heart in here,” Sunoo said, grinning.

Jungwon looked at Sunghoon with a pointed expression. “It’s okay, man. We’re all rooting for you.”

Sunghoon shot them a glare.

⸻

The shift was fast-paced, the patients endless, and Sunghoon had just barely managed to catch his breath before the next task was assigned. But of course, there was no time to relax when Heeseung was always around—always moving with an easy confidence, his every action smooth and practiced.

Today, Heeseung was working alongside him, but it felt like they were in two different worlds. Sunghoon was still in the “nursing student” mode—trying to prove he could keep up with the seasoned professionals. Meanwhile, Heeseung? He was the rock star nurse, the one who made every task look effortless.

It started with something small—seemingly small.

⸻

The Gauze Incident.

The moment came when they were both assigned to a patient who had just come in for a minor procedure. The patient’s wound needed to be dressed, and Sunghoon, eager to prove himself, darted toward the supply cabinet to grab the necessary materials.

Just as he reached for the gauze, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He whipped around to see Heeseung, who was holding the exact same gauze package with a smile that felt just a little too knowing.

“Beat you to it,” Heeseung said casually, as if he’d already won the race.

Sunghoon stiffened, his stomach tightening in irritation, even though he tried to keep his tone neutral. “Yeah, I see that. But I still have to prep the patient.”

Heeseung grinned. “Sure, sure. But just remember, it’s not about speed. It’s about precision.”

Sunghoon couldn’t help the eye roll that escaped him. Precision? What’s he talking about? “You’re such a show-off.”

“I’m just confident,” Heeseung replied, winking. “You’ll get there, rookie.”

Sunghoon forced a smile, not able to mask the flicker of frustration in his chest. He could feel the tension creeping in. I can’t let him get to me. It’s just a gauze. But the truth was, it wasn’t just the gauze. It was the way Heeseung made everything seem so effortless. The way he talked to patients with ease, the way they all gravitated toward him, and the way Y/N sometimes looked at him, laughing like he was the funniest person in the room.

That’s not just it, Sunghoon realized. It’s about her.

⸻

The Stethoscope Challenge.

Later that afternoon, things escalated again when Sunghoon found himself in another friendly “competition” with Heeseung—this time over the stethoscope. They’d both been asked to check on a patient’s vitals simultaneously.

Sunghoon moved to the patient’s left side, securing the stethoscope around his neck and preparing to listen to the patient’s heart rate. Heeseung was already by the other side, but before Sunghoon could even start, Heeseung placed his hand gently on the patient’s wrist.

“Let me do it,” Heeseung said with a lazy smile, his voice smooth, almost playful. “I’ve got this.”

Sunghoon’s brows furrowed. “We’re supposed to do this together, remember?”

“Sure,” Heeseung replied, but he didn’t budge. “But the patient is already relaxed with me.”

Sunghoon felt his jaw clench. So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? He wanted to argue, to snap back, but the patient was watching them, and he couldn’t risk looking petty.

He took a breath, stepping aside reluctantly. “Fine. But you’re really pushing it, Heeseung.”

Heeseung gave him a knowing smile. “I’m just here to help.”

⸻

The Final Showdown—Who Gets the Chart First?

The final straw came when they both reached the nurse’s station at the same time. There was one chart left to be signed off on—just one. And Y/N was standing by the station, casually reviewing some papers, her back to them.

Heeseung’s eyes lit up the moment he saw the chart. He moved toward it like a predator zeroing in on its prey.

“I’ll get it,” Heeseung said, his tone teasing. “I’ve got some notes for the patient. You mind, Sunghoon?”

Sunghoon’s heart rate picked up, the competitive edge in him flaring. I don’t mind? You think you can just take it?

Before Heeseung could make his move, Sunghoon stepped forward, grabbing the chart with just a little more force than necessary.

“I’ve got it,” Sunghoon said quickly, his voice firmer than he’d intended. “You’ve been signing off everything else, Heeseung. Let me handle this.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow. “Alright, alright. I wasn’t trying to steal it from you, geez. Just thought I’d help out.”

Sunghoon didn’t care. It wasn’t about the chart. It was about winning—proving he could keep up.

⸻

Y/N’s Subtle Observation.

As the day wore on, Y/N noticed the little “games” they’d been playing—mostly because she’d caught them a few times. She watched Sunghoon’s brow furrow whenever Heeseung took charge, and she noticed the way Sunghoon was almost overcompensating—whether it was rushing through his tasks, answering questions before they were asked, or just trying to prove something.

Later that evening, she caught him in the break room, leaning over a sink with a sigh, clearly worn out.

“You okay?” Y/N asked, her voice soft. “You’ve been on edge today.”

Sunghoon blinked, turning toward her with a forced grin. “Yeah, just the usual stuff. You know, keeping up with Heeseung.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been competing with him all day.”

Sunghoon rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s nothing. Just a little fun, right?”

Y/N crossed her arms, tilting her head, a teasing glint in her eyes. “You sure? You look like you’ve been trying to prove something.”

Sunghoon stiffened. Am I that obvious?

She smiled lightly, uncrossing her arms. “You know, Sunghoon, Heeseung’s not trying to take your spot. He’s just… well, Heeseung.”

Sunghoon’s heart skipped at her words, but the tension in his chest didn’t fully ease. “I know,” he muttered. “I just want to make sure I’m good enough.”

Y/N blinked, surprised. “Good enough for what?”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, and the silence hung thick in the air. Finally, he sighed. “For you, for this place. Just… good enough.”

Y/N smiled warmly at him, her gaze softening. “You are good enough, Sunghoon. You just have to believe it.”

⸻

The Unspoken Realization.

As they prepared to clock out for the day, Sunghoon stood by Y/N, suddenly aware of how much he wanted her to see him as more than just a student nurse. More than just a guy who was trying to catch up to the others.

And maybe—just maybe—Heeseung’s friendly competition wasn’t the real issue here.

⸻

The storm outside howled, fierce winds rattling the hospital windows as rain hammered the roof in a relentless downpour. The usual hum of the hospital was muted, the corridors quieter than usual, the usual rush of foot traffic dampened by the weather. Nurses and doctors alike had been instructed to stay inside the building, as the storm had caused flooding in some parts of the city. Shifts had been extended, and the team was stuck for the foreseeable future.

For Sunghoon, this felt like the longest night of his life.

He glanced at Y/N from across the hallway as she pulled on her scrub jacket, the wind outside gusting against the walls. Their shifts had been chaotic; patients were coming in non-stop, the ER was backed up, and now, a fresh round of complications had left the staff running in every direction.

Heeseung, the ever-present, confident nurse, had already been assigned to a new hospital—his skills in high demand after a major staffing shortage at a nearby clinic. Sunghoon hadn’t been thrilled about the change. It had always been a strange dynamic between him and Heeseung, but with Heeseung gone, something felt… off. Even though the rivalry was never overt, it had kept Sunghoon on his toes, pushing him to prove himself. Without it, there was an empty space that he hadn’t anticipated.

“Hey, Y/N,” Sunghoon called, walking over to where she was standing near the break room, peering out the windows, her face thoughtful. She turned to him, offering him a tired smile.

“Everything okay?” she asked, her voice softer than usual.

“Just…” he paused, glancing out the window at the rain. “Just a lot of work tonight.”

Y/N nodded. “I know what you mean. I think everyone’s running on fumes.”

He smiled faintly, his eyes still lingering on her. “We should grab some blankets. For when the night goes longer than expected. The storm might have knocked out the heater in the supply closet.”

“I’m on it,” Y/N said. “Meet you there?”

He nodded, then both turned to head down the hall toward the supply closet, where extra blankets were kept in case the night stretched into the early hours. As they walked, the silence between them felt heavier than usual—comfortable, but somehow laced with unspoken things.

The supply closet was small, even for the two of them. It was cluttered with boxes, extra sterile gauze, and various supplies, and when Y/N reached for the top shelf to grab the blankets, she bumped against Sunghoon’s chest.

She froze for a moment, and in that brief instant, the proximity felt much too intimate—too personal, as if the world outside was momentarily paused. The small, stillness lingered in the air between them, heavy and thick.

Sunghoon’s breath hitched, and he felt the warmth of her body against his, the electricity that surged through him at the contact. His hands instinctively reached for the shelf as well, brushing against hers.

Her back brushed his chest again as she shifted, and the small, confined space made everything feel a little too close. Neither of them said a word, the silence amplifying the tension between them.

After a long pause, Sunghoon’s voice dropped, a hushed tone as if he were unsure whether he should say it. “You always smell like lavender.”

Her breath caught at his words. She hadn’t expected that—his comment felt almost too personal, but it also felt like something that had been there all along. Something he’d noticed, but never mentioned.

Y/N turned slightly to meet his eyes, and she felt a rush of warmth in her chest. “It’s a body wash I’ve been using for months,” she explained softly, not sure why she was offering the detail but suddenly wanting to share something with him.

He smiled faintly, his gaze softening for a moment. “It’s nice.”

They stood there for a few beats longer than necessary, the moment stretched thin by the closeness, the space too small, the unspoken things too large between them. He almost wished he could say more—ask her why she always smelled like that, if she wore it on purpose, or if it was just something she didn’t notice.

But before he could, the sudden noise of the emergency paging system broke the spell, and they were jolted back to reality. The quiet of the night came crashing in, dragging them both back into the chaos of the hospital.

⸻

The break room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of a flashlight that Y/N had managed to find after the power went out. It flickered, casting shadows across the room, but it was the only light they had. Sunghoon and Y/N sat at the small table, their faces illuminated by the flickering light, a quiet exhaustion settling over them.

“I can’t believe we’re stuck here all night,” Y/N said, letting out a deep sigh as she leaned back in her chair.

“Yeah,” Sunghoon agreed, his voice quiet, but his gaze lingering on her. “But… I’m kind of glad you’re here.”

Y/N smiled, but it was softer than usual, the tension from earlier still lingering in the air. “I think you’re just happy I’m not running off to work at another hospital,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Sunghoon chuckled, the sound low and warm. “You know I’m not that dramatic.”

“Not dramatic?” Y/N raised an eyebrow, as if not believing him. “Come on, you’re definitely one of those ‘everything’s a crisis’ type of people.”

His smile faded a little, and he leaned forward slightly, his hand brushing the edge of the table, closer to hers. “Maybe. But it’s different when I’m around you.”

Her heartbeat quickened, and she could feel the charge in the air between them. She reached for her mug of coffee, trying to hide the way his words made her feel, trying to pretend she didn’t notice how the space between them felt just a little bit too small.

The flashlight flickered again, and for a moment, the silence stretched between them—heavy, thick, filled with unspoken words.

Y/N’s hand moved instinctively across the table, her fingers brushing his, and they both paused. The soft contact was a momentary connection, but it felt significant. His fingers curled around hers, gently, but there was an intensity in his touch that made her heart skip.

Their fingers stayed intertwined for a moment too long, the silence in the room amplifying the weight of the simple act. It was as if everything in that moment froze, the noise of the storm outside, the chaos of the hospital, all faded away, leaving only the two of them.

Before either of them could say anything else, the door to the break room burst open, and a nurse rushed in, face urgent.

“Emergency in Room 312. We need both of you!”

The moment shattered. Sunghoon quickly stood up, and Y/N followed, their fingers reluctantly separating. The energy between them had shifted, but before they could explore it further, they were both thrust back into the chaos of the night.

⸻

As they rushed to the room, Sunghoon couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed between them. He wasn’t sure what to make of the touch, the soft words, the unspoken promise in her eyes. But for the first time, he was certain of one thing—he didn’t want to leave this feeling behind.

And as Y/N walked beside him, the storm still raging outside, a soft thought crossed his mind. Maybe, just maybe, this storm could lead them to something more.

⸻

By the time the emergency in Room 312 was stabilized and the chaos temporarily quelled, the hospital halls fell into a lull. The storm outside still raged, but inside the ER, the tension had eased—just enough for the exhaustion to creep in.

Y/N leaned against the nurse’s station, stretching her back and letting out a low groan. “I think my spine turned to dust an hour ago.”

Sunghoon plopped into the chair beside her, rubbing his eyes and sighing. “If it makes you feel better, I’m at the stage where I’d sell my soul for a warm pillow and a blanket.”

She let out a tired laugh, bumping her shoulder into his. “You’re such a drama queen.”

“Says the one who moaned like a grandma five seconds ago.”

Their laughter echoed softly down the hall, warm and sleepy.

Sunghoon watched her as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Her face looked tired, but beautiful in the faint glow of the emergency lights still running in parts of the wing. He hesitated for a moment, then tilted his head slightly toward the dim hallway.

“Come on,” he said quietly, voice mischievous. “Break room’s empty.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes playfully. “You planning to sneak in a nap during shift hours, Mr. Almost-Graduate?”

He grinned. “What’s the point of being your favorite student if I don’t abuse that privilege at least once?”

“You’re assuming you’re my favorite.”

“I know I’m your favorite,” he said without missing a beat, walking backward with a cocky little smile that made her roll her eyes—and follow him.

⸻

The break room was quieter than before. A few blankets from earlier were tossed in the corner, and the fluorescent lights above flickered gently. A faint hum of vending machines filled the silence. The storm still whispered against the windows, but everything else inside felt still.

Sunghoon sprawled onto the couch, pulling one of the thin blankets over himself before motioning for her to join him. “Come on. I’m not sleeping while you’re still out here suffering.”

“I’m not suffering,” she scoffed, but her limbs were lead-heavy, and the couch looked painfully inviting.

After a second’s hesitation, she sat beside him, both of them squished onto the narrow couch. Their bodies brushed—knees bumping, shoulders aligned, the kind of closeness that was undeniably intimate, but too comfortable to feel awkward anymore.

Y/N tugged the blanket to share it between them.

“I swear to God, if you fall asleep and drool on my shoulder, I’m clocking out and leaving you to fend for yourself,” she muttered, adjusting the blanket.

Sunghoon turned his head lazily toward her. “I don’t drool. I’m a classy sleeper.”

“Sure you are,” she teased. “I’m sure Jungwon would back you up.”

“Jungwon said I look peaceful when I sleep.”

“Oh, so you’ve got a sleep witness.”

“Jealous?” he smirked.

She elbowed him, making him grunt and laugh.

A silence settled over them, not uncomfortable, but filled with something softer. Sleep tugged at both their eyes, and slowly, her head tilted to the side—landing gently against his shoulder.

Sunghoon froze.

He didn’t dare move.

Her lavender scent filled his senses again, and despite the thunder rolling outside, all he could hear was her quiet breathing. His heart pounded a little harder, not from nerves anymore, but from the sheer awareness of her.

⸻

It wasn’t long before a familiar crinkle broke the silence—Sunoo, standing at the door holding a bag of vending machine snacks with a mischievous smirk.

“Well, well, well,” he said, popping a chip into his mouth dramatically. “What do we have here?”

Y/N jerked awake, blinking rapidly as she sat up. “Sunoo?! How long were you standing there?”

“Long enough to consider leaving you two snacks as an offering.”

“Shut up,” Sunghoon muttered, his ears slightly pink.

Jungwon appeared behind Sunoo, holding two bottles of water and raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t realize this couch came with couple’s privileges.”

“We weren’t doing anything,” Y/N said, though she was already grabbing a chip bag to change the subject. “Just resting.”

Sunoo’s eyes twinkled as he sat on the arm of the couch. “Resting… dangerously close.”

Sunghoon grabbed the chips from her hand and popped one in his mouth just to stop himself from saying something dumb. His pulse still hadn’t slowed from having her so close just moments ago.

Y/N, lips twitching in amusement, grabbed them right back.

They all sat there for a while, sharing snacks, teasing each other, and basking in the strange, cozy quiet of a hospital caught in the eye of a storm. The power flickered again, and the vending machine buzzed like it might give up—but inside the room, the warmth stayed.

At some point, Sunoo and Jungwon dozed off in the chairs. And once again, Sunghoon and Y/N found themselves shoulder to shoulder on the couch, sharing warmth beneath a scratchy hospital blanket.

This time, when her head landed on his shoulder again—he didn’t freeze.

He leaned into it.

And smiled.

Because maybe being stuck in the hospital overnight wasn’t the worst thing in the world… not when he had her next to him.

⸻

The hospital was always buzzing—monitors beeping, wheels squeaking across linoleum, pagers ringing through the air. But lately, it buzzed with something else.

Whispers.

It started small. A knowing glance here. A muttered comment there.

Then someone caught sight of Sunghoon loitering near the nurse’s station long after his shift had ended—clearly waiting for her. Another time, he’d “just happened” to help Y/N restock linens she didn’t ask for. He stood closer than necessary when talking to her, smiled wider than usual, eyes lingering a beat too long.

To the untrained eye, it could’ve been harmless.

But hospitals breed gossip like bacteria.

⸻

“Park,” a voice called out one morning during pre-rounds.

Sunghoon turned, raising a brow as one of his fellow student nurses, Minji, approached him. She crossed her arms.

“You might want to tone it down,” she said flatly. “People are talking.”

Sunghoon blinked. “Tone what down?”

“You and Y/N,” she said pointedly. “You’re being obvious. Some of the senior staff are starting to notice. You don’t want this getting reported, do you? You’re graduating soon. Don’t risk it.”

He stiffened.

The warning settled like lead in his gut.

⸻

Y/N heard about the rumors from a different nurse, in a passing whisper that hit her like a slap. It was framed casually—“You know people are saying he’s a little too attached to you, right?”—but the implications rang loud in her head.

She was immediately on high alert.

The next day, she pulled away.

Back to form. Back to structure. Strict again, focused. She corrected Sunghoon’s charting without the usual teasing, kept conversations painfully professional, didn’t look at him longer than necessary.

Sunghoon noticed the shift instantly.

He didn’t push at first—thought maybe she was tired.

But after a full day of being treated like just another name on her roster, he cornered her near the stairwell after shift.

“Y/N,” he called out softly.

She turned too quickly, like she’d been hoping he wouldn’t speak to her at all. “Sunghoon. I have to head upstairs—”

“No,” he said gently but firmly. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I haven’t—”

“You have,” he interrupted, voice laced with quiet hurt. “You won’t even look at me.”

She exhaled, jaw tight. “I heard what people are saying.”

“So what?” he said, stepping forward. “They’re rumors. Who cares?”

“I do,” she snapped, eyes glinting with something between fear and frustration. “You’re graduating soon. Do you want to risk that because someone thinks I’ve been too friendly?”

“It’s not just friendly.”

She flinched.

His voice was low, sincere.

“I like you,” he admitted, brows drawn. “I thought—God, I hoped—you knew that by now.”

She looked away, swallowing hard. “That’s the problem.”

The silence that followed was thick. Unbearable.

Sunghoon looked at her like he was trying to memorize her face. “I get it. I do. But don’t treat me like I’m just some dumb kid with a crush. That’s not fair.”

“I’m your mentor,” she whispered.

“For now,” he replied. “But I won’t be forever.”

She didn’t answer.

And he didn’t push.

⸻

The last day of clinicals arrived too fast.

The entire ward seemed to buzz with energy. Everyone loved Sunghoon—patients, staff, even the notoriously grumpy supervisor from OR. Jungwon and Sunoo teased him mercilessly, snapping photos and calling him “our local hospital heartthrob.”

Someone made him a tiny paper crown.

Y/N had stayed out of the spotlight all morning, but as the clock inched toward shift end, she quietly arranged a little celebration near the nurse’s station. Just for the student nurses.

There were cupcakes. Coffee. Printed polaroids of funny moments throughout their time in the hospital.

When Sunghoon approached, the others cheered. Y/N smiled and handed him a small gift bag—a pen engraved with “You’re going to make a great nurse.”

He looked down at it, and then at her, eyes glassy. “You planned this?”

She nodded. “You earned it.”

Their fingers brushed briefly. Too brief.

The party moved on around them—Sunoo making a toast about how he’d miss “his emotional support rival” and Jungwon giving a half-serious speech like it was an awards show.

But eventually, Sunghoon had to go.

Y/N stood by the elevators when he approached. He looked good in his uniform—hair still a little messy from hours of movement, but eyes bright and full of something she refused to name.

“I just wanted to say thanks,” he said. “For everything.”

She offered a polite smile. “You did all the work. I just guided you.”

“That’s not true,” he said, holding out a small white envelope. “Don’t open it here.”

Her fingers curled around it without thinking.

He hesitated a second, then stepped into the elevator.

And just before the doors closed, he said softly, “If things were different, maybe I’d ask for more than your mentorship.”

⸻

Later that night, she opened the letter in her apartment.

It was short, neat handwriting she immediately recognized.

Y/N, my boss nurse

Thank you for being more patient with me than I deserved.

Thank you for pushing me when I wanted to give up.

Thank you for being someone I looked forward to seeing every day.

I’m sorry if I made things harder.

I never wanted to jeopardize your job or my future.

But I meant everything I ever said to you.

And if it ever feels like things can be different…

Call me.

[XXX-XX-XXX]

Y/N stared at the digits at the bottom of the page for a long, long time.

Her heart thudded in her chest.

Because even though he was gone now—finished, graduated, moved on—he’d left behind more than a number.

He’d left hope.

⸻

Sunghoon’s graduation ceremony was held in one of the city’s larger academic halls, packed wall to wall with caps, gowns, and the proud hum of voices echoing beneath the tall ceiling. Families clutched bouquets. Cameras clicked. Applause rang in waves as each name was called.

From his seat near the front, Sunghoon scanned the crowd automatically.

He told himself not to look.

Told himself she wouldn’t be here.

She hadn’t called. She hadn’t texted. It had been weeks since that letter.

But still.

Hope was a stubborn thing.

And then, in the upper left wing of the balcony—half-shrouded by shadows and dressed in scrubs like she’d come straight from shift—he saw her.

Y/N.

She sat alone. No flowers, no fanfare. Just her hands clasped neatly in her lap, eyes quietly following him as he stood to walk across the stage.

Their eyes met for only a second.

But it was enough.

She was there.

She came.

And in that fleeting, barely-there glance, everything in his chest that had been wound tight slowly… unraveled.

⸻

After the ceremony, his phone buzzed.

He was surrounded by noise—Jungwon snapping goofy selfies, Sunoo loudly pretending to cry and thanking “his baby boy Sunghoon” for surviving three years of caffeine and chaos.

But none of that compared to the message that lit up his screen:

Y/N: congrats, my fav student nurse.

Sunghoon’s heart did something ridiculous.

He grinned.

Wide. Giddy. Stupid.

⸻

He stood at the edge of the campus lawn, people swirling around him like a celebration in motion. But his world had narrowed down to one small screen and six simple words.

She came.

She watched.

She texted.

And maybe—just maybe—she hadn’t closed the door entirely.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment before he finally typed back:

Sunghoon: Didn’t think you’d come.

Sunghoon: You didn’t say anything.

Sunghoon: But I’m glad you were there.

The typing bubble on her end appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared again.

He waited, holding his breath.

Finally:

Y/N: I wasn’t sure I should be.

Y/N: But I’m proud of you. So proud.

Y/N: You’re going to be an amazing nurse.

Sunghoon bit his lip, fighting the urge to grin again.

Sunghoon: Guess that means I’m not your student anymore, huh?

A pause.

Then—

Y/N: No. You’re not.

A beat passed. Then another message came.

Y/N: So if you wanted to ask me to dinner…

Sunghoon blinked.

Stared.

Smiled.

And finally, under the fading sunlight and the buzz of celebration around him, he replied:

Sunghoon: I thought you’d never ask.

⸻

Sunghoon double-checked his reflection in the café window, smoothing down his collar before pushing the door open. He wasn’t nervous—he told himself that multiple times during the ride over.

But the way his heart skipped when he spotted Y/N sitting at the corner table, sipping on something iced and lavender-colored, betrayed him entirely.

She looked up and smiled.

And everything tilted just a little.

⸻

“You’re late,” she said, eyebrow raised, though her tone was soft.

“Traffic,” he replied, sliding into the seat across from her. “And existential dread.”

She laughed. “Still dramatic.”

He grinned. “Still your favorite.”

Her smile faltered for the smallest second, caught between nostalgia and something new. “I didn’t know if you’d actually say yes.”

“I’ve been waiting for a chance to say yes.”

Her fingers curled around her cup. “I didn’t think it’d feel this strange.”

He tilted his head. “Does it feel wrong?”

“No,” she murmured. “Just… different. We’re not at the hospital. No buzzers. No supply closets. No patients between us.”

“No rules,” he added quietly.

A beat of silence passed.

And in it, the air between them changed—just slightly.

She looked up, voice more tentative. “And no excuses.”

Sunghoon swallowed. “Do we need any?”

⸻

They talked for hours—eating slow, sharing bites of dessert, laughing at old moments from the ward. He told her about his first interview next week, she teased him for almost fainting during his first blood draw. The ease came back like muscle memory, but underneath it, something new had settled in.

Something less guarded.

When they walked out into the warm night, the sidewalk was quiet and still damp from an earlier drizzle.

He walked her to her car.

“I really missed this,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

She leaned against her door. “I did too. More than I wanted to admit.”

There was a moment—brief, heavy, weighted with all the words they hadn’t yet said.

He took a step closer.

“You know this doesn’t have to be one dinner, right?” he asked.

She tilted her chin up. “What are you saying?”

“I want more,” he said. “More than just a dinner. More than supply closet tension. More than one kiss that never happened.”

She bit her lip, softening. “We really never did kiss, huh?”

“Not officially.”

The pause lingered just long enough for the air to still.

Then, finally, she said, “So kiss me now. Let’s make it official.”

And when he did—when his hand came up to gently cup her cheek and his lips met hers in a kiss that was sweet and sure and years in the making—there were no rules, no titles, no student or mentor.

Just them.

[Bonus scene]

The break room was dim, lit only by the flickering vending machine light and the steady glow of a desk lamp someone had left behind. The hospital night shift was unusually quiet—an eerie calm that made it the perfect time to cram for the nursing board exam… if you weren’t already dead tired.

Y/N leaned back in the creaky couch, stifling a yawn as she reached for the flashcards. “Alright, Park. One more round and then I’ll let you take a five-minute nap that lasts two hours.”

Sunghoon sat cross-legged on the floor in front of her, hoodie sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his hair tousled and eyes slightly bloodshot from the long shift and even longer studying. His books were sprawled across the coffee table with color-coded tabs sticking out like battle scars.

He looked up with a lazy grin. “I’m starting to think you like torturing me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And yet you begged me to quiz you.”

“Because I like the sound of your voice when you talk about cardiac meds,” he teased, grinning when she rolled her eyes.

She threw a peanut butter cup at him. “Focus, Romeo. Signs of digoxin toxicity. Go.”

He caught the candy mid-air, still smirking. “Green halos, bradycardia, GI upset, visual disturbances… and my personal favorite, confused ghosts.”

She blinked, then snorted. “You mean confusion. But sure, ghosts. You’d find a way to flirt with a specter, wouldn’t you?”

“Only if she wore lavender.” He glanced up at her meaningfully, a little more serious now. “You always smell like that.”

She paused, lips parting slightly.

Lavender. The same scent as the lotion she kept in her locker, the one she only used on night shifts to stay calm. He remembered.

“Sunghoon…” she said quietly.

But he looked away first, cheeks faintly pink, mumbling, “Keep going. If I fail, I’m blaming you.”

⸻

It had been three agonizing weeks since he took the exam, and Sunghoon swore he aged at least a decade.

He was walking out of a convenience store when the notification pinged on his phone: NCLEX Results Available.

He didn’t even wait to get to his car. Right there in the middle of the sidewalk, he tapped through the results portal with shaking hands.

Status: Passed.

He just stood there, wind cutting through his hoodie, staring at the screen until his vision blurred.

He passed.

He actually passed.

There were a million people he could’ve called first, but his fingers moved on instinct. He pulled out the pen she had given him—still kept safely in his hoodie pocket—and clicked it like a grounding motion before opening his messages.

[Sunghoon🩵]: RN, officially. Passed on the first try.

He attached a picture of himself holding his results, eyes glassy and grin too wide. The background was a little blurry, but he made sure one thing was clear—the lavender pen in his hand.

Y/N didn’t respond for two whole minutes.

Then:

Y/N: Told you. Superhero material.

Y/N: You remembered the pen?

[Sunghoon🩵]: I brought it to the exam. It was my lucky charm.

Another pause. Then:

Y/N: I’m proud of you. So proud.

And for a moment, all the exhaustion, anxiety, and stress of the past few months faded beneath those words.

⸻

He hadn’t planned to stay at the same hospital.

At first, he wanted to explore, stretch his wings. Try something new.

But then… the thought of not seeing her in the hallway, not hearing her call out sarcastic remarks across the station, or missing her coffee cup balanced beside the vitals cart—it made his chest ache more than he wanted to admit.

So when an opening popped up at the hospital where he did his clinicals, he applied in secret.

He even used a different email so she wouldn’t catch on.

And when the offer came—with the exact department she’d be in—he accepted immediately.

Jungwon called him dramatic.

Sunoo just said, “You’re either in love or insane.”

He just grinned. “Aren’t they kind of the same thing?”

⸻

Y/N was already three hours into her shift, juggling charts, setting up orientation packets, and trying not to scream at the broken coffee machine.

“Okay,” she said, clapping her hands to get the new nurses’ attention. “Today’s gonna be a mess, so smile through the pain. I’ll give you your assignments after a quick tour of the east wing.”

A few sleepy groans and nervous nods followed.

She turned around to lead them out—and then stopped dead in her tracks.

There he was.

Fresh uniform. ID badge clipped to his scrub pocket. Hair pushed back. And that damn smile on his face.

Park. Freaking. Sunghoon.

Y/N blinked. “You…”

“Surprise,” he said, flashing his badge like a movie reveal. “Guess who’s officially your coworker now?”

“You applied here?”

“Yup.”

“Without telling me?”

“That ruins the drama,” he said, stepping closer so the others couldn’t hear. “Still my favorite boss nurse.”

She tried not to smile. Really, she did.

But he pulled the lavender pen from his chest pocket, tapping it against his clipboard meaningfully.

And just like that, she was smitten all over again.

“You’re going to make this shift hell for me, aren’t you?”

He leaned in, eyes warm. “Only if you don’t assign me to bed 3. I heard the patient there likes flirting with tall nurses.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

He winked. “And yet, here I am. For you, Boss Nurse”

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