#p3nis wiggle

[lcksndkys]

Title: Here for you 

Pairing: PJM x reader

Rating: SFW

Genre: fwb au meets hospital au

Word count: 1,475

Summary: after an especially hard day at work, Jimin tries to comfort you, except you don't seem to respond to his usual tactics. 

Warnings: imposter syndrome, a penis wiggle, discussions of medical complications but no death, implied smut

A/N: Hi, all!! There’s a bit of medical lingo. Resident= a physician who practices under the supervision of an attending physician. Attendings= doctors who have completed a residency, and supervise residents. Med surg= medical surgical unit/floor of the hospital where patients are generally, but not limited to, those recovering from some type of surgery. PE/pulmonary embolism= an emergent medical condition where there is a blood clot in the arteries that supply the lungs.

Also, this was written as part of the ghostie drabble marathon with the prompt: Character A gets emotional easily. Character B does not. A catches B crying alone and realizes that they never learned how to comfort B since they were usually the one getting comforted. Please drop a line, anything you want, to let me know what you think!!

You feel like an idiot. 

Head in your hands with your eyes squeezed shut, you inhale slow and deep to calm your stuttering breaths. 

Inhale, pause, exhale. Repeat.

You refuse to break down while at work. Doctors didn’t have that kind of luxury and you can’t sit here forever (even if a small part of you wants to).

Hands braced on the cold, hard concrete of the hospital's dingy stairwell, you're ready to continue with morning rounds when the door suddenly opens.

Fluorescent light floods the dimly lit stairwell.

“Dr. Lee’s lookin for you,” comes Jimin’s concerned voice.

“Fuck,” you whisper at being caught crying like a scared first year intern. You swipe under your eyes, erasing any trace of wetness and avoiding Jimin’s worried gaze. 

“Yeah, I was just- just going down for coffee. I’ll come right back up to med surg” you sputter. You’re nowhere near the cafeteria.

His dark eyes meet yours briefly. Two years of friendship and casual hooking up has him believing he knows you better than most. He knows when you’re lying.

 You make a quick exit, pushing past Jimin, refusing to make eye contact. Heading down towards the cafeteria to keep up pretenses, you decide maybe you do need the extra caffeine. 

Coffee in hand and hearing the death march ringing in your head, you dread meeting with your attending. 

Dr. Lee is a stern, but fair, mentor. She scolds you harshly for your mistake and then gently reminds you that this case will stay with you for the duration of your medical career. She promises you won’t let yourself make the same mistake twice. You hope she’s right.

By the end of the day, you’re feeling wretched. Having worked 80+ hours this week has exhausted you mentally, emotionally, and physically. 

You head to the staff changing rooms not noticing the figure following you. Angrily pulling off your scrub top, you pause at the soft knock at the door.

“It’s me,” comes the quiet of Jimin’s soothing lilt.

In your bra and scrub pants, you crack open the door and peer around him confirming that he’s alone. Opening the door wide enough to slip his lithe body between the cracks, you sigh.  “What do you want, Jimin”

“You had a rough day. I wanted to make you feel better” he rasps, winding his arms around you and pressing his body into yours. 

He easily crowds you against the door, one hand slithering around your waist, the other discreetly locking it.

Mouth slotting against yours, you part your lips wider to allow him to press his tongue to yours. You moan into his kiss, letting him tilt your head, deepening the angle. His hands wander the expanse of your exposed back, down your hips, and landing on the swell of your ass where he palms at the soft flesh.

He kisses you like it’s the last time every time. Ardently and enthusiastically, like he can’t get enough of you. It takes your breath away. 

You give yourself a moment to enjoy his affection, sliding your hands under his scrubs to scratch lightly against the soft skin of his abdominals before pushing him back with a firm hand against his chest. You pretend you don’t feel the rapid thrumming of his heart under your palm. 

“Not tonight, Jimin” you pant. 

You can’t get fully out of your head and into Jimin. Not right now. He lets you withdraw from him with worried eyes. 

The past two years have been hard, but your unforeseen friendship (turned fwb status in the last year) with Jimin has been a nice bonus. He made you laugh, he talked you up to the other nurses and your superiors, he made you cum, (he made your heart race, but you’d never tell him that). You were focused on completing your orthopedic residency and Jimin had hesitantly agreed that there were to be no strings. 

You hastily finish changing, stuffing your scrubs into your bag and making for the door.

Before you can hustle down the hallway and away from the sterile white of the hospital, you’re stopped by a firm, yet gentle, hand around your wrist. With a light tug you’re falling right back into his arms.

“It’s not your fault. You’re a great doctor” he insists, holding you close and pressing his forehead against yours.

Word gets around fast.

You scoff, tearing out of Jimin’s hold. 

Great doctor? A second year resident and you still feel like you’re flying by the seat of your pants. You don’t belong here.

“Shortness of breath, coughing, fatigue, recent surgical procedure, chest pain, lightheadedness when ambulating with physical therapy” you tick each off on your fingers. “Classic signs of a PE, Jimin, and I missed them all” you spit. 

The nurse shrinks back at your harsh words. After two years of friendship- and in Jimin’s opinion, more- he’s never seen you like this. Jimin has always been the emotional one; tenderhearted and in need of comfort after rough days. He’s always turned to you for that. 

“We caught it in time though. He’s gonna be fine” Jimin tries, trying to hold you closer.

Your brow furrows in frustration. He doesn’t get it.

“He could have died!” you burst. A patient could have died because you didn’t catch it when he threw a pulmonary embolism. “Stop trying to pretend you know what I’m thinking!”

At your venomous words, Jimin backs away. “I-I didn’t. I’m sorry. I only wanted to comfort you.” 

Eyes tight and biting his lip, he takes one last look at you before retreating back to his unit. 

You sigh, disappointed in yourself. But you have the next two blessed days off. Hopefully by then, you’ll have grown the nerve to apologize to Jimin for blowing up at him. 

Washing up and throwing your dirty scrubs in the laundry, you curl into your bed, finally allowing yourself to cry.

On day two, your phone pings with a notification. You see that Jimin has sent you a snapchat. 

Intrigued, you tap open the icon and-

Jimin is standing in front of his bathroom mirror- cheeks rosy, hair pushed back to expose his neatly trimmed undercut, ends dripping wet- covered only by a towel hanging from the base of his very erect penis. 

He must’ve just finished showering as you clearly see the beads of water running down his exposed neck and chest in rivers to undoubtedly pool on his bright orange bath mat. 

One hand is holding his phone, the other is waving into the mirror as he repeatedly clenches his pelvic floor muscles to make his rigid cock wiggle in greeting.

“Miss you,” comes his angelic voice.

He continues slowly waving, towel-covered cock bobbing in time with his hand as if purposely synchronized. 

“I hope you’re feeling better today” he says earnestly with a goofy smile.

You cackle at his antics, feeling your mood boost instantaneously. 

Eyes trained on his figure, you try to imprint this short video to the backs of your eyelids. It’s over as quickly as it began, video disappearing. 

Reciprocating, you snap back a shot of your body covered in nothing but his oversized shirt. Then, you open your texts and arrange for Jimin to meet you in an hour at your apartment. 

Waiting for his arrival, you pull out your favorite lube and some condoms in preparation. 

When your doorbell rings, you’re already worked up and ready for him to pound you into your mattress. 

Fixing your lips to his with a soft groan in greeting, you pull him towards your bedroom and pin him down onto the bed. 

You’re both panting when you break away from his plush lips to kiss down the column of his throat.

Jimin purrs beneath you, unable to resist the soft pull of your lips against his sensitive flesh.

“Shit, I wasn’t planning on-” he pulls back from you, eyes glazed with desire. “I just wanted to be here for you and make sure you- that we- were ok.”

You stare down at him. “Jimin. I’m sitting on your half hard cock, trying to apologize, and you’re talking right through it” you chuckle. 

He stops you as you lean in again. He’s serious.

“I mean… I also wanted to tell you," he looks shyly up at you. "You’re the only person I’ve been hooking up with,” he quietly admits. “I don’t want anyone else”

You gulp. Have you been stupidly exclusive this whole time? 

“Same,” you whisper, meeting his excited eyes with your confession. 

“So, then, this- you and me- it’s real?” he asks again with an endearing rouge to his cheeks. 

You look into his hopeful gaze and can’t resist him. 

“Ask me again after you take me out on a real date,” you agree easily as his eyes crinkle with happiness, beaming up at you.