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marvelwitchergilmore · 6 months ago

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Small Touches and Simple Gestures

Summary: Javier Peña x Fe!Reader -> For years you've pretended to be married to avoid unwanted attention. But what happens when the lie you've been living, suddenly becomes true. Well, at least a part of it.

Disclaimer: Swearing, fluff, one of the agents making a move on Reader though nothing happens (Javi stops it). Fake dating, falling in love, embarrassing mothers, office romance. Heavy smut towards the end, so 18+. Happy ending. A lot of smaller intimate moments between Javi and Reader away from the smut, too. Kinda a long one. Not Proof Read.

If someone had told you that three years into working with Agent Javier Peña you’d be wearing a wedding band, marrying you to him for at the very least, the foreseeable future…you wouldn’t have believed them.

And you would be right not to. Because that, technically, wasn’t what it was for.

And it had all started with a question that Peña asked you one day as you sat at your desk.

“Was he real?”

You slowly tore your attention away from the case file in front of you. “What?”

“Your husband.”

For a moment you forgot all about how you’d first come to interact with Peña. He had asked you out. Well, flirted heavily then asked you out.

“What husband?”

Javi stood as he talked, walking towards your desk and sitting down on the edge of it closest to you. “One day you’re wearing a wedding ring telling me you’re married, the next it’s gone.”

You looked at your hand. “Oh. Yeah.” You decided to admit the truth. “I made him up.”

Despite his constant theories, he was still shocked. “What?”

“I made him up.”

You said it as if you were asking him how his day was. Like it was nothing new.

“You made him up?”

“You try and be a single woman in this office who doesn’t like getting hit on by every guy who thinks with his dick,” you told him. “See how quickly you make up a fake family.”

He had to laugh. “But I hit on you.”

You looked at him, suppressing an already knowing smirk on your face. “My point exactly.”

“Think I got something.” From the door, Steve came sweeping inside and threw a couple of files down on Javi’s desk. The previous topic was dropped for now but you took a moment to revel in the shock graced on Peña’s face.

However, a few hours later, it was brought back up again.

You’d been standing in the evidence locker, looking for yet another misplaced case file. Could people not read in this office? Had they lost all sense of the alphabet? You sighed heavily.

“How long have you been doing it?”

You jumped and found Peña standing behind you. “Jesus, Peña. Make a noise or something. Fuck.” You turned back to the messy shelf in front of you.

“So?”

You sighed. “Doing what? This? Feels like hours.”

He shook his head and rounded you before leaning against the side of the shelves. “Not the files. You being married.”

“Oh, uh…” You pulled a few hefty files and handed them over to him before reaching down onto the lower shelf and pulling those files up. “Couple years, I guess. Since before the Academy.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t you hear me earlier, or do I need to repeat myself, Peña?”

He shook his head again and put the files down. “No, I heard you. But that’s here. Why did it start?”

You sighed and stopped what you were doing to look at him. “Why are you so interested all of a sudden?”

He let out a small chuckle. “What? Come on, you’re one of the first Agents here to reject me not once, but three different times.”

You raised a subtle eyebrow. “I was married when you did that.”

“The first time, yes.” Javi corrected. “But that was an honest mistake. The second and third time, there was no ring on your finger. And, after this morning, you technically weren’t married at all. Look, just answer my questions and then I’ll drop it forever.”

“You promise?”

He held up his hand. “Scouts honour.”

You gave a questioned hum. “It’s difficult to imagine you as a Scout.”

“Y/l/n.”

You groaned. “Fine. It started because I got asked out a couple of times by this guy. He seemed nice and all but I wasn’t interested. So, when he asked why I kept saying no, I told him I was married. Swapped my rings over under the bar top before showing it to him. He took it well, apologised and said my husband was a lucky fella.”

Peña continued to listen.

“Then I moved away. The second time I was with someone but this guy just kept hitting on my friend. She went to the bathroom and then he started on me. Told him I was with someone. He didn’t believe me. So, I showed him my wedding band. Said my friend was married, too. He,” you sighed. “Eventually backed-off. After that it just kinda became my go-to. People I interviewed preferred to see a married woman than a single woman being a cop. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t start out my job as married. But the minute the compliments, and the touching and the dates being pre-arranged because they expected me to say yes…once they all started, I started wearing my wedding ring.”

“So why take it off?”

You shrugged. “Guess I must have forgotten. Besides, nobody has tried anything in the last couple of years. We’ve all been too busy.”

For a moment, Peña’s demeanour seemed to shift. “But I’ve flirted with you.”

You smiled a tired smile and stepped back from the files for a moment. “I work with you, Peña. I like you but I think I’m immune.”

“That hurts.” He deadpanned before placing a hand over his heart. “That…wow.”

You laughed. “I think you’ll bounce back.”

And he did. That night he walked out telling Murphy he had a date with the stall girl he’d met a few days ago.

The following weeks were hectic as different cases made their way across your desk, all with connections to Peña and Murphy’s biggest case; Pablo Escobar.

From interviewing victim’s families, to interrogations, to the crappy coffee in the break room. Your days and nights were spent looking over files and dealing with your case loads. Until one afternoon in the breakroom led to something you never had expected.

There was another Agent working at the Embassy. You’d seen him around a few times, shared a conversation or two. But most importantly, he had seen your wedding ring. You hadn’t missed his behaviour over the last couple of days. It started with smiles in the hallway – innocent enough. Then you found him in your breakroom more. Apparently the coffee was better. Then he was sitting at your table during lunch – apparently his partner was out for the day and he felt like some company. You didn’t miss his eyes clocking your hand.

“Your wedding band. It’s gone.”

You didn’t know why at the time, but the lie fell from your lips. “Oh, yeah, It’s in for a cleaning. It had a couple dark patches and scuffs on it.”

More things started creeping up. Like how he always stood just that little bit closer and not in a comforting way, when you were both talking. Or how his eyes looked you up and down before you got to speaking distance from each other.

Then in the breakroom, the ‘compliments’ started. How your hair looked – how it always looked. How you always made ‘women’s clothes look so much better’. How he enjoyed spending time with you because you actually talked to him.

“You know,” he trailed a finger up your arm and you were three seconds away from breaking it and running to take a scalding hot shower. “I was thinking we could get away for a while. After all, we both deserve a break. Maybe take these lunches outside of the office.”

You stepped back. “I’m married.”

“Oh, come on, we both know that’s a sham.” He told you, taking a step closer as you took another one back. “You never bring him to office parties, there’s no pictures on your desk-”

“I don’t need to prove to you or to anyone else that I’m married.”

He laughed. He actually laughed. “You’re not about to tell me he lives in Canada are you?”

“No. He-”

“He’s right here.”

It was safe to say you were shocked, but the agent didn’t seem to notice as he turned round and found Javi standing in the hallway.

“Peña. I was just-”

“Scaring my wife?”

The guy was turning paler by the second and yet somehow his ego carried him through. “You mean work-wife, because I have to say Javi, that doesn’t really count.”

“How about a marriage certificate? Does that count for you?” Peña finally found you by his side before he whispered to you.

“You okay, cariño?” All you could do was nod, the shock of him pretending to be your husband still settling over you.

He looked back to the agent who had been hitting on you. “I’m gonna tell you this once and only once. Hit on my wife or scare her again, and I’ll kill you.”

“Javi-”

“I don’t think Messina would be happy to learn one of her best Agents was being sexually harassed.”

He nodded, backing away. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Javi shook his head. “Not to me. To her.”

Awkwardly, the guy looked from Javi, around the room, back to Javi and then to you. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t move. You didn’t speak. Peña’s your husband?

“You can go.”

Taking Javi’s instructions, he left. Peña then waited a minute before turning towards you. “You sure you’re okay?”

You nodded. “I’m fine. Thank you, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“But you shouldn’t have done that.”

“What?” He asked, holding the coffee pot in one hand and your mug in the other.

“Javi…” You looked around the room before looking back at him. “This is gonna spread around the office. You and I -- married.”

He shrugged. “What’s the big deal? Now you’ve got a physical person to pretend to be your husband.”

“Javi.” He handed you your cup of coffee before pouring his own. “Please tell me you are aware of your own reputation? And the fact that we are colleagues? And the fact that I have been making a husband up for god knows how long? People are going to know this is fake and then I’ll be judged – heavily – for it.”

“Why would you be judged?”

You rested a hand on your hip. “This is gonna look like I’ve used you to be my pretend husband and everyone will just feel sorry for me and make a big joke about it with you.”

“Except I’m the one that told him.” Peña pointed out. “If anything, that’s what’s going to spread around the office.”

“Ah yes, I can see the headlines now; ‘Agent Javier ‘slut’ Peña finally ties himself down with a female colleague.’.”

He shrugged. “We don’t have to be tied down if you don’t want to.”

You hit him on the arm. “Be serious.”

“Look,” he set his coffee cup down and took you by the shoulders. “If it becomes anything then we just fake it. We already spend most of our time together anyway, and who hasn’t had an office romance once in their life?”

“I haven’t.”

Peña paused for a second before nodding. “Congratulations. You’ve just lost your office romance virginity.”

“Peña.”

He shook it off. “All I’m saying is, if it becomes a thing, we just…roll with it.”

“Roll with it?”

He nodded. “Roll with it.”

“There’s a chance our careers hang in the balance because I’m pretty sure this breaks at least three rules in HR. And your grand solution is to…’roll…with it.’.”

Javi nodded once more. “We’ll be fine. I promise.”

It was not fine. Neither of you were fine. Especially considering two days later you were both forced into Messina’s office where, before you could spit out the truth, Messina interrupted and said she didn’t want to know. Just that you both had to remain completely professional and that if someone ever caught either of you, you’d both be suspended.

So, things remained somewhat neutral. You both received a couple of looks from other co-workers. Murphy teased both of you relentlessly, despite being the only one to know the truth since you stopped the elevator when all three of you were inside to tell him as much.

But then the loud rumours started and people didn’t even try to hide them.

Whilst pouring you and Peña a cup of coffee each – something you had done almost everyday for three years, you could hear people gossiping.

“Maybe he knocked her up. Shotgun wedding, you know?”

“I don’t think they’re even a couple. I mean, they never show any kind of affection to each other.”

One disagreed with that statement. “No, I’ve seen him with her a few times. Little touches here and there. Must be their love language. Small touches and simple gestures.”

“That’s cute, I guess. But I kinda expected more from Javi. He was always so…you know.”

The woman beside her sighed, “Yeah.”

You walked away more confused about life than you had been since before you started highschool.

It was clear the rest of the office ‘knew’ about ‘you and Javi’. And that they each had a different opinion on the matter. And some of them you didn’t even know about, but Javi did.

He’d heard everything from your marriage to him being a sham because he got you pregnant, to both male and female staff asking him “why y/n?”. Except, it was never in a friendly manner. To the men, it was either because they thought “Javi could have any choice he wanted, and he went for her?”, or because he’d gone for one of the women they had wanted “a shot at” themselves. And to the women it was…much of the same thing, with an added jealous streak wondering why he went for “the one woman who didn’t want” him, when most of the other women who’d worked with him “actually wanted” him.

Javi’s eyes trailed your every move from the coffee station, back to your desk and then towards him. “You okay?”

You zoned back into reality and handed him his coffee. “Yeah. Fine. What have you got?”

Turning the case file around, he told you.

Around a month or so later, not much had changed. People were still gossiping about your marriage to Peña, the case was gathering little evidence so the constant reviewing of previous case loads was underway. Between keeping up the lie of your marriage to Javi – despite neither of you having to do much out of your normal routine – and the case work and the constant heart attack you got when Messina would stop walking when stood directly between your desk and Peña’s before humming and moving along, you were running out of energy.

“Come to mine after work.”

You looked around. People were looking but they were too far out of earshot to hear.

You took the paper from Javi.

“Why?”

“You’re tired, and I’m tired watching you eat that shitty stuff from the cafeteria. I’m cooking dinner.”

You looked up at him, shocked. “You can cook?”

He smiled. “Yeah, yeah. After work. I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”

Javi tapped your desk twice before walking away and looking around the office. Everyone who had been looking quickly looked away before looking back at you. Once they found you looking, they turned back to their work.

For a moment, you looked at the half stale coffee on your desk. It would be nice to have a decent meal considering you’d been eating left-overs for about a week and half.

And he kept his promise.

Javi had left work an hour before you were supposed to. He’d grabbed his jacked off the hook behind your desk, bent down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, your body too tired to fight off leaning into him when he did so. You had meant to clock out of work an hour later but staring at words, losing concentration and trying to focus back in meant when you finally looked at the clock, you were getting close to being forty minutes late.

“Shit.”

Not bothering to drop your stuff off in your apartment two floors up, you found Javi’s door unlocked like he’d said and you walked inside.

It smelt like heaven. Good, hot food. And Javi.

It was quiet as you walked down his hallway and eventually found him relaxing on the sofa, his legs thrown across the rest of it. He was watching reruns.

“Relax,” you could hear the smile in his voice despite not being able to see his face. “Figured you’d be late. Food’ll be ready soon.”

With a relieved sigh, you dropped your bag by the steps and walked around. He moved his legs for you to sit down and he watched you for a moment as you pushed the heels of your hands into your eyes and leaned back.

“Tired?”

“Exhausted,” you admitted.

“Come ‘ere.” His voice was soft and quiet as he reached out for you by the shoulder. Looking at him for a moment before silently agreeing, you let him pull you down until eventually you were laying beside him, your head on his chest, his legs tangled with yours.

It took him a moment, but Javi removed your hair-tie letting your hair loose before running his fingers through it. You relaxed almost immediately, feeling the once growing headache slowly melt away with each touch of his hand.

You could have fallen asleep but he didn’t let you. “You’ve gotta eat. I didn’t slave over a hot stove for nothing.”

You groaned a little and buried yourself deeper into his side. “How are you this calming?”

“It’s my natural touch.” Javi told you before kissing the top of your head and sitting up. “Come on. Dinner’s ready. Then I promise, you can fall asleep.”

“Hallelujah.”

It took you a moment but your head eventually stopped spinning long enough for you to sit up and walk over to the table where Javi had set down both of your meals. And it was one of the best you’d ever had; either because he was a great cook, or you were starving enough that any food that wasn’t cafeteria left-overs would taste like heaven at that moment. Though, you had a feeling it was the first one.

In silence, you both washed and dried. Until you spoke out the pressing question on your mind.

“What happens if we meet ‘the one’?”

“What ‘one’?” Javi handed you another freshly washed plate.

“I mean,” you spun it through the dish towel. “To everyone else, we’re married. But what if we end up meeting the person we actually want to date and marry? What do we do then?”

Javi shrugged. “Guess we get divorced.”

“But we’re not actually married.”

“Then we play it by ear. They say when you know you know…maybe when we know, we just…tell them the truth. But I doubt that’s gonna happen.” Javi nearly crapped himself. “For me, not you. I doubt that’ll happen for me.”

You looked at him. “Why?”

For a moment, he was quiet. Thinking. Deliberating. “Back in Texas, I was gonna get married. Lorraine. She was a wonderful woman but…I don't know. I was driving to the church and I just stopped.”

“You left her at the altar?”

“I never made it to the church,” he admitted. “I don’t know. I suppose at some point I’d settle down but…” Javi shrugged. “I can see it happening for you though, so, whenever you do meet him, I can be there to help explain this whole…situation we’ve got going on.”

You laughed a little at that. “Thanks.”

Twenty minutes later, you were half asleep before Javi pulled you over to him once more. The last thing you could remember was you taking a deep breath in, the scent of him, his home and his cooking fill your senses.

When you woke up, you found yourself still on the sofa, the news playing on the TV and Javi cooking in the kitchen. It took you a while before your brain registered you weren’t still dreaming and you’d fallen asleep not only at Peña’s, but also on him.

“Hey,” Peña shook you back awake. “Breakfast is ready.”

You placed your hand over his and nodded. “Okay.”

Neither of you said anything when you ate, just listened to the news that passed over the speakers of the TV.

“Who taught you to cook?” You asked, turning to look at him as he drove you both to work.

“My dad. My mom helped, but dad was the one who burnt less stuff.”

After eating, you’d run to your apartment to get a fresh change of clothes and run a brush through your hair, only to be greeted by your husband at the bottom of the stairs. “I’ll drive us to work.”

So, now you were driving to work with Javi before hopping out of his car and being led with a warm hand at the bottom of your back through the hallways of work before you both finally reached your desks.

And for the first time in weeks, you finally had the energy to get through your work day. And so did Javi.

Although things started to change when you got a surprise visit from your mother.

You’d been working for weeks on the same case and in between all of the case work, the fake marriage and the few months that followed, you’d forgotten to write to your mother.

It was her one agreement with you moving to Columbia. She knew there was nothing she could do to stop you – it was your job and you were good at it, plus, despite all of the gear grinding you had to do every now and again, you loved it. But knowing she didn’t accept your decision to work as DEA in Columbia would have slowly killed you – and her, too.

Any time she called, you’d either been dead asleep – either at yours or Javi’s – or at work. So, she took the notion to come and see you.

So when you walked down the hall towards your office and heard your mother’s voice ask you a question, you felt your entire body crash to a screaming halt before realising what and why she was asking.

“You’re married?”

“Mom.”

Your mom called your full name and walked towards you. “What this lovely woman just told me better not be true, or else that means I’ve missed my daughter’s wedding.”

You tried your best to remain calm and relaxed. Two emotions you were desperately clinging onto for dear life. “She tells me his name is Javier Pen…”

For a moment, she looked back to the secretary who nodded and whispered his name again for your mother to repeat with full confidence to you. “Javier Peña.”

“Mom, maybe it’s best we-”

Then the secretary spoke up in excitement. “Oh, there he is. Javi!”

Looking up from his own case file, about to turn down the hallway, he found who was calling him before seeing who was standing in front of them. You and, from what he could guess, your mother.

Shit. Your mother? No. She was back in the States. Maybe he’d remembered her face wrong from the picture behind your desk.

Walking over, Javi’s hand came to your lower back before he quickly brushed a kiss against your cheek. “Cariño, you okay?”

You tried to remain calm as you said the next sentence. “Javi, this is my mother. Mom, this is my..husband..Javi.”

Then something you hadn’t expected to happen, happened.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs Y/l/n. Y/n’s told me a lot about you.”

“I wish I could say the same.” But she still shook his hand and allowed him to press a light kiss to the back of it.

Carefully, Javi stepped back and pulled you closer towards him, your mother’s eyes never once stopping to not examine the couple that stood in front of her.

Javi nodded. “We are sorry about that. But, maybe we can make it up to you.”

You looked at Javi a little panicked. But your mother was already interested. “Oh?”

“I’m guessing you’re staying here for a few days? Come and stay with us. I can make us dinner and we can all get to know each other.”

Then your mom smiled. Apparently Javi already had her approval. “Well…I think that would be lovely. But don’t think either of you are getting off lightly. I missed my daughter’s wedding that I didn’t even know about.”

“Honey, give your mother our address, I’ll ask-”

She shook her head. “No, no. You all seem busy. I can take myself there. And I’d like to see what’s around the market stalls. Is there anything I can bring for dinner?”

Javi shook his head. “No, not at all.”

You smiled. “He’s got it covered, mom. Just bring yourself.”

“Alright then. Well, I look forward to seeing you both for dinner.”

In the space of five minutes you’d all said your goodbye’s and you had ever so sweetly pulled your husband towards your office before closing the door and blinds and turning back to your partner.

“What the hell are you thinking?”

Javi shrugged. “She’s come down here to see you. We might as well make the effort.”

“We? Javi. We don’t live together. She’s gonna take one look around my apartment and realise I still live there. She’s gonna take one more look at my face and realise everything that’s happened is a complete sham and then she’s gonna parade it around town that I’m still single. She won’t mean it harshly, but she will.”

“So, we don’t tell her and just say we haven’t had a chance to move things since getting married. We’ll be okay.”

You let out a panicked laugh before you started pacing. “I knew this was a bad idea. It’s bad enough we’re lying to people here.”

“You’re the one that started it before I got roped in.”

“Hey! You roped yourself into this. You were the one that said you were my husband.”

“Would you have preferred for Agent Dickbag to keep pushing?!”

You took a breath. “Javi…I don’t know if I can lie to her. What…what do I tell my family when they find out? This was just meant to keep people like Agent Dickbag away…”

Reading the panic all over your body, Javi stood and walked towards you until you were wrapped in his arms. “Hey, it’ll be okay. We’ll keep the secret up long enough to make sure nobody else finds out the truth, and then you can just say we rushed into things. We got a quick divorce and moved on, civilly.”

“I think you missed your calling in Acting.” You told him. “I think my mom already has your seal of approval.”

“Really?” He pulled back a little and smiled. “That’s a first.”

“We’ll be okay?”

He nodded. “We’ll be okay.”

And you believed him.

Because it was true.

In the space of about fifteen minutes, you and Javi managed to move some things from your apartment, into his to make it seem more…homely. Like two people actually lived there. Especially since your mom would be living in your apartment for the next couple of days until she flew back home to the rest of your family.

“Will she really check the bedroom?” Javi called from the kitchen.

You’d moved some things to the second bedside table. One or two books, a couple of hair-ties, plasters, “stray” pens. You tried your best to make it look believable as possible.

“You don’t know her like I do. This woman is Jessica Fletcher. Unsuspecting to the world, but in fact sees everything. Trust me, you do not want to end up in interrogation with my mother. Happened to a perp once. She came in to visit my dad but he was wrangling a couple of the officers so she walked around, found the perp sitting in holding and she actually got a confession out of him. Cops had been trying all day and nothing. A five minute conversation with my mother and they got a full written confession out of him.”

Javi gave a low whistle. “Wow.”

“Yeah. So, trust me, what I’m doing? It’s gonna, hopefully, save us some grief.”

Javi was still cooking by the time your mom knocked on his door and you brought her inside. Immediately her eyes scanned the place picking up on the pictures, books and music.

“It smells delicious.”

“He’s a good cook.”

And for the first couple of minutes everything ran smoothly. Your mother did everything you’d expected her to do. She even passed Javi in the kitchen to look into your bedroom.

“She really did it.” Javi mouthed.

“Told you so,” you mouthed back.

“Mom, do you wanna come and sit down? I can get you a drink.”

“I’ll have a soda if you have it, please.”

You got your mom a soda and poured it into a glass with ice, handing it to her as she stood still examining your home.

“So, how is he in bed?” She whispered a little too loud to you.

You felt yourself go bright red. Redder still when you heard Javi chuckle from the kitchen. “Mom!”

“What? I’m allowed to ask my daughter these questions. I need to know you’re being satisfied in every aspect of your marriage.”

You groaned and covered your eyes. “Mom.”

“You’re being careful? Using condoms? You know pulling out doesn’t work as birth control.”

You could have died. “Mom, please. Stop.”

Javi let out a small laugh as he walked from the kitchen and handed you a drink. “Mrs Y/l/n, if you really want to know-”

“Oh no. No, Javi, please. Please don’t encourage her.”

“We’re being safe. Having a family right now probably wouldn’t be the best move for either of us.”

Your mother just graced him with a soft smile. “Well, I’m glad to hear it.”

“I’m not,” you groaned a little. “Can we please change the conversation?”

“You know, she’s always been like this.” Your mom told Javi who only seemed to revel in your terror.

“Really? This isn’t a new thing?”

“No,” you mom told him. “She went just as red when I gave her the birds and the bees talk.”

“That’s because you decided to tell me in the middle of my middle school hallway during a Parent’s Evening.”

“And when I took her to the doctors to get her on the pill.”

You covered your face. “I’m in hell.”

Javi’s hand reached for your shoulder and shook you lightly as he sat on the arm of the chair beside you. You leaned into him.

“I’d finally got it out of her that she’d had sex and next-”

“And next thing I’m being wrangled into an office chair with the doctor having my mother shout from the rooftops her daughter was no longer a virgin.”

Your mom gasped. “It wasn’t like that,”

You leaned into your husband who’d just let out a small laugh. “Please make it stop.”

“Okay, I’ll drop it.”

“Thank you.”

“But I’m glad to know you’re being satisfied. Your face tells me more than you think.”

“Okay!” You stood up quickly and tried to run away, only to feel Javi’s hand reach out and pull you back, spinning you to stand by him. From the light red in his cheeks, he felt a little embarrassed, too, but he seemed to handle it a lot better than you.

He was chuckling. “Don’t think you’re able to run from this. I wanna know more about you from your mom.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to be here for it.” You tried to make a break for it again, but Javi caught you and for a moment, the rest of the room seemed to slowly disappear from sight as you found yourself trapped in his hands and arms, and his gaze on you, just as yours was on his. And for a moment, you wondered what it would be like if you kissed him.

Little did you know, he’d been thinking the exact same thing.

Then a timer went off.

“That’ll be the food.” Javi kissed a quick peck to your temple before standing and walking towards the kitchen, leaving your gaze to trail after him.

“You really do love each other,” your mom pointed out from her spot on the sofa. “I can see why you got married. You both need to tell me what your wedding was like!”

And so you did over dinner. With the added linger of whatever had happened when he’d pulled you closer to him.

You caught Javi looking at you a few times, and subsequently, he’d caught you, too. And, without rehearsal, you’d both managed to bullshit your way through explaining why you’d both decided to get married so quickly.

From you and Javi, your mother had learned you’d both met when you started in Columbia and you were both ‘friends’ for a while. Not much had to be lied about in that department. Javi’s reputation. Your “ability” to make every man that asked you out believe you were taken. How you’d worked together for a long time before becoming actual friends. Then the lies started…right?

About how you and Javi made a true friendship of sorts over the late nights working, swapping smaller stories until something changed.

“It was like…my heart had stopped and rebooted itself. Suddenly, everything felt like it had shifted and changed somehow.” Peña explained to your mom. “Nothing had ever been more…clearer and more daunting than ever.”

Then Javi looked at you, and you found a mirrored expression. Sadness? Confusion? Desperation? Fear? Realisation? You didn’t know what to call it, but whatever it was, you felt it. For some unknown reason, everything he’d just said rang true in your ears, your head and even your heart.

Nothing had ever been more clearer and more daunting than ever.

By the time your mom decided she was ready for bed, you were already fast asleep against Javi. At some point in the evening when he’d sat beside you, he’d slung his arm behind you and between the warmth and familiarity of him, you’d let yourself truly relax.

“I’ll walk you up.”

Your mom shook her head as Javi led her towards the door. “I know my way and you’re both tired. I’ll be okay. Get her to bed.”

Javi looked back at you for a moment and smiled.

“You really do love her.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. Your mom smiled at her supposed son-in-law. “I understand why she fell for you, but I hope you know, just because you’re the first one of her boyfriends, well, husband now. But just because you’re the first I approve of, doesn’t mean I won’t be judging you. You look after her, and you look after her well. Love her everyday. It’s not every day someone gets to spend the rest of their lives with my daughter. I hope you see that as a privilege.”

Javi nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I do.”

Javi was telling the truth and your mom nodded. “Good. And thank you for dinner. Sleep well.”

“You, too, Mrs Y/l/n.”

Javi waited until he heard your apartment door lock before he shut his own, locked it and kicked off his shoes.

His socks padding his footsteps as he walked back to you, he was careful to pick you up before carrying you to bed and covering you up. You were still fast asleep by the time he climbed into bed beside you, but either way, you naturally rolled towards the slight dip in the bed before reaching out for him like you did almost every time he’d carried you to his bed because you’d fallen asleep in his apartment.

The only times he didn’t was when he fell asleep with you and woke up as the sun peeked through his blinds in his living room.

With a contented sigh, you slipped into a dreamless sleep beside him and for a few minutes, he laid awake, listening to your breathing. Then he let his mind slip back through the evening. If the funny feeling in his stomach and chest wasn’t what he hoped it was, but rather was what he suspected it to be, then he would have to soak up your actions as a married couple over the next couple of days before everything went back to semi-normal.

Because if he was right, and he was growing feelings for you, then these days would have to be enough. Your marriage with him and his marriage to you was meant to be for appearances, only. Nothing real was meant to come out of it, was it?

Because the feeling in his chest as he looked down at you, asleep by his side and in his arms…that feeling sure felt real.

Waking up in the morning, you felt more comfortable than usual. No creaky mattress spring giving you a sneak attack from beneath your sofa and into your back, no blinding light coming through curtains you’d forgotten to shut, no cold side to your bed as you turned over.

Instead, you felt warm. You found warmth.

Asleep on his front but his arm still across you, you found Javi. Fast asleep, seeming as though not even a gunshot would wake him.

And rather than jump out of bed or rollaway like you usually would when you found yourself in this position with any man, or even him going off the last couple of months.

You’d found yourself falling asleep countless times at Javi’s and the majority of the time, you woke up in his bed.

But waking that morning, especially after the night before, had something feeling different. So you took your time.

For the first time you…studied him.

You’d found yourself doing it more and more in recent months. How he sat in a chair, the look on his face when he was annoyed, amused, sometimes even scared.

And for the first time, maybe ever. He looked…

Peaceful.

As if it was a Sunday morning and neither of you had to get up for work. Like when he’d wake, you’d both spend the morning in bed before relaxing in your home.

And for a moment, you let yourself dream about that life. A life where there was no fear of maybe never coming home. A life where you could both…be peaceful. Happy.

Together, maybe?

After a few moments, you felt a gentle touch against your cheek, and slowly opening your eyes, you found Javi’s hand cupping your cheek, his fingers brushing soft patterns into your skin.

“Cariño…”

You smiled, finding comfort in the common nickname. “Hey.”

“You been awake long?”

You shook your head, softly. “Not long.”

“Good.” Javi then leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Come here.”

Granting yourself permission to do as he said, Javi rolled over onto his back and pulled you into his side before he decided to ultimately face you.

Down your back, he traced a singular line back and forth as you both synced calming breaths and listened to the comfortable silence of the room.

“We could call in sick.” Javi said after ten minutes. “We’ve built up enough time to take the day off. You could show your mom ‘round.”

“We can’t,” you pointed out. “What about the case?”

“The case will still be there tomorrow. And besides, if something changes, they’ll call us in-”

Then you both heard the front door lock open.

“Javi-”

Pressing a finger to his lips, he sat up and so did you. Quietly, he moved over towards his bedside table and pulled out his gun before checking the bullets.

You both heard the door open and just as Javi was about to leap out of bed, you both heard your mother’s voice.

“Y/n? Javier? You two sleepy heads awake yet?!”

You let out a huge sigh of relief and sat back against Javi’s headboard. “Jesus Christ.”

“Your mom has a key?” Javi put his gun back and closed the draw as he looked back at you.

“I told you. Jessica Fletcher.” Then you called out to her. “Mom! We’re in here.”

Letting out a breath, Javi sat himself back beside you just as your mom walked into your bedroom. “Mom, you can’t just break in,” you told her, tiredly.

“I didn’t break in. I had a key.”

“Both of us could have shot you.”

Your mom looked over both of you and gave a coy smile. “Then it’s a good thing I called out then. You both look…well rested.”

It was too early to even pretend what she thought had happened, had happened. So, tearing your eyes from Javi, you looked to your mom. “Why are you here?”

“Because I have made breakfast for both of you since Javi cooked us such a wonderful dinner last night.”

“Mrs Y/l/n, you really didn’t-”

“Hush now. I was happy to do it. Now, chop chop.” Your mom clapped her hands. “There’s plenty of time for this,” she gestured to you, Javi and the bed, “later. Come on. Before the day is gone.”

And as she walked out, you felt yourself collapse into Javi’s sheets, already feeling your face go hot.

“She really doesn’t hold back, does she?”

“No.” Your voice was muffled through the sheets.

Ultimately, Javi convinced you to take the day off with him and after a homemade breakfast, yet another awkward conversation surrounding love-making in the shower – to which Javi nearly choked on his toast. Both you and Javi had showered (separately) before getting changed and deciding to show your mom around the different places in town.

And despite the stories shared by your mother; thankfully not all of them made you want a hole in the ground to open up the floor.

You also found spending the day with Javi, outside of work talk, to be more than pleasurable. With his hand in yours, or his arm around you, holding your own across your stomach, you’d both walked side by side for most of the day. He told your mom some things about Columbia even you didn’t know before, easily sharing some stories of his own childhood when your mom asked.

And you felt…glad, maybe? Like for the first time since moving to Columbia you were home. And it wasn’t just because your mom was there, but rather because of the person who stuck by your side all day, letting you see behind the personal walls he had up at work. The ones that, if you didn’t look closely, you wouldn’t know were even there.

Yet, despite the entire day feeling like one giant butterfly in your stomach at every touch, look and graze you felt from Javi, nothing made it feel like the tornado it was when your mom asked if she could film your ‘first dance’.

Dinner had been long over and the TV had shut down. In the background, a few different records played until one came on and your mother gasped.

“Oh, please. Please let me see your first dance. I love this song, and I’ve always imagined seeing you dance to it the way me and your dad do.”

From your side, Javi lifted his hand. It was up to you.

Looking at your mom’s face, you couldn’t say no. So, you nodded and both stood. Javi started the song from the beginning and turned back to face you. In a matter of moments, you were in his arms, your hand in his whilst your other lay on his arm. You could feel his firm hand at the bottom of your back, holding you up steadily.

Finally, leaning into each other, you could feel his moustache at the shell of your ear. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

That was when you found out Javi could dance. At the very least, much better than you could. He led you around the small section of the floor, your temple’s still touching and for a small moment, you closed your eyes.

You’d also both forgotten anybody else was in the room other than you two. Breathing, heartbeats, pulse, chemistry. It all became one.

And just as the song slowed, Javi lifted his head to look at you. It was like there was a new light to you in the fading sunlight. New features he’d never noticed before. The small freckles dotted across your face, probably having surfaced after a day in the sun. The soft streaks of baby hairs framing your face. The arch and bow of your cupid’s bow and lips. The light flush in your cheeks as for a moment, he caught your eyes doing the same thing he was.

Looking. Gazing. Studying. All to commit it to memory.

Javier Peña, for as best as he’d known, he’d never been so scared in all of his life. But there was one final thing he wanted to commit to memory, whether it be good or bad. And if he didn’t do it then, he was afraid he never would. So, for the first time with you, he did what he wanted to do because, and he hoped, by the look on your face, you wanted it, too.

With the final few notes of the song, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips. It was firm, steady, strong and then softer. The kind of kiss that you feel long after it’s over. Silence washed over the room as the record came to an end and you and Javi found yourselves looking at each other, only realising you weren’t alone when your mom gasped.

“Oh, that was just beautiful.” She stopped the recording. “Thank you so much for doing that for me.”

You and Javi seemed to step away from each other despite it being the last thing either of you wanted to do in that moment. It wasn’t long after that your mom decided to go upstairs to bed. And once Javi heard the door lock upstairs, he locked his own and took a moment before turning back around to find you.

But you were already trying to avoid the conversation that came next.

Javi took his time. You both needed a moment to find clarity. After the faucet had been running for a few minutes, only to be switched off by you as you washed the plates in the bowl of soapy water, Javi stood at the kitchen door.

He watched you for a moment, wondering what to say. What just happened? I’m sorry? He didn’t mean for it to…be that way? Did you feel it, too? Did you want it, too? Did he cross a line?

Then he realised he didn’t have to say anything at all.

You felt him before you heard him walk slowly across the kitchen floor and stand by your side. With a gentle hand guiding your arm, he spun you to face him and in the silence, your faces shared a thousand words between each other.

Javi brushed your hair from your face before gently cupping your face. It took enough time between each of his movements to let you object if you wanted to. You stepped closer into him.

Then he kissed you.

Having dropped the sponge into the sink, you felt yourself tumble against him as your own hands came to pull him closer towards you. Things seemed to move slightly quicker than before. His hands moving down your body to eventually lift you up and move you onto the counter top, his fingers pushing their way through your hair as your own pulled him in by his collar to kiss you once more.

With your legs wrapping around his waist, securing him against you, you let out a small sigh behind your kiss. Javi only chased those small noises more after you made your first one.

“J-Javi.” You managed to find your voice in between his kisses. “Wait.”

He stopped, forcing himself to pull his lips from yours. And for a moment, all you could hear was his breathing and your heartbeat. Both rapid. Both unsteady.

“We…we shouldn’t…”

His hands still tangled in your hair and his forehead against yours, he shook his head in agreement. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

All either of you could do was breathe. Slowly. Trying to catch some form of air that was at least a close equivalent to the others.

Kissing you was like a lifeline, and without you he was dying.

His eyes finally gazing into yours, he found your own tracing his face, already reminiscing on the kiss, wanting more.

Kissing him was like life was finally being pushed back into your lungs, letting you breathe clearly for the first time and without him, nothing was in focus.

“Fuck it.”

His lips on yours again, he began to devour you and your taste. He could feel your hands pulling him closer to you, like if you’d let go of him, you’d drown.

He needed you more than he wanted to admit.

But you didn’t want him to hold back. So leaning away from his kiss for a moment, you made sure he focused on you.

“Bedroom.”

He was still drunk on your kiss. “Javi, I’m not fucking you on the kitchen counter. Bedroom.”

His lips curved onto a smirk as he pulled you towards the edge and lifted you up.

“Didn’t anyone tell you we’re married? Cariño, it’s called making love.”

You laughed and so did he before it was muffled out by another kiss.

By the time morning rolled around, you found yourself wrapped in Javi’s arms, his scent swirling around your senses, locking it into a memory you’d never forget. Even if you wanted to move, you couldn’t. From the arms wrapped around you, to the soreness in your legs, your body was too happily exhausted to move.

For the next few moments, you watched as he slept peacefully. His mouth parted slightly, simply looking at his mustache made you blush at the memories from barely a few hours previous. Tracing the curves of his face, you leaned over and pressed a light kiss to his cheek.

His arms twitched around you. “Javi, I need to use the bathroom.”

Still half asleep, he returned the next kiss you pressed to his lips before mumbling; “Come back.”

“I will,” you kissed him once more before climbing out of bed and heading towards the bathroom.

Whilst in the bathroom, you picked up the long forgotten towels on the floor and picked up the tossed body washes and shampoo bottles from Javi and your haphazard entry into the bathroom after the first two orgasms before the third.

However, you must have taken too long because as you stood at the bathroom skin, a newly familiar pair of arms made their way from holding your hips, to cradling around your waist.

You could feel the hair from his moustache as he kissed your bare shoulder, making his way towards your neck where you leaned back against his chest and placed a hand behind his own neck to hold you steady.

“Javi.”

One of his hands slowly made its way under your top before running his fingers from the top of your chest, across your breast and down below the waistband of your shorts.

“I missed you.” His tongue dampened the graze of his teeth against your neck.

“Javi.”

“Is this okay, baby?”

You bit your lip, your hips bucking against his fingers, chasing the pressure he was beginning to swirl around your clit. You hummed a response.

“I need your words, baby. Is this okay? Do you want this? Because I can stop.”

You shook your head quickly and wrapped your hand around his wrist before he pulled away any further. “No. Don’t stop.”

“Whatever you say, baby.”

With his fingers circling your clit and his mouth having free range of your neck, you felt your knees grow weak. “Want me to stop?”

Again, you shook your head. “I need…I need more, Javi.”

“How many, baby?”

“Two, ohh…” Your mouth opened and you threw your head back against his shoulder, reveling in his fingers slipping inside your cunt and his thumb applied pressure to your clit. Then you heard him chuckle.

“Asshole.”

“You fucking love it, baby.”

You did. You really did. It wasn’t long before Javi could feel your walls pulsing against his fingers, growing tighter for him. And his dick hadn’t even left his pants yet.

“You’re so fucking wet, cariño. This for me?”

You found the strength to nod. “Just for you, Javi baby.”

But whatever strength or control you had left disappeared as the wave began to crash over you and you chased Javi’s fingers as they pumped deeper and faster inside of you. “Ride ‘em, baby. Take what you want.”

You moaned his name, almost chanting it as you came over his fingers. “Fuck,” Javi growled. “You’re so fucking hot when you come.”

Letting out a breathy laugh, you felt the ache in your legs, still leaning against Javi.

“Then maybe you should do it again.”

Sharing a look with Javi, he smirked before biting down on your bottom lip, then kissing it better. Pulling his fingers from inside of you, he slowly spun you around by your hips until you faced him. Once he’d tasted everything he could from your mouth, he teasingly made his way across your jaw, down the length of your neck, under your clothing before pulling your soaked shorts down your legs, leaving your glistening and sensitive cunt for him to see.

Then he tasted the rest of you.

Pushing you onto the edge of the sink counter, you white-knuckled the edges in fear of gripping his hair too tight to pull him closer to where you needed him.

You could feel the burn of his moustache against your inner thighs, panty-line before finally his tongue circled your already sensitive clit.

“Fuck, Javi.”

“You like that, baby?”

You nodded, “Fuck. Yeah.”

“Want more?”

“Y…yes. Javi, please.” Your hips bucked as you chased the feeling of his tongue licking your pussy. “Fuck, Javi.” You let out a gasp as his tongue dipped inside of you for a moment. “Fuck, right…right there.” With one of your hands tangled in his hair, you pushed him closer in order to taste all of you.

And just as you leaned back to grant him more access, he pulled back. You whimpered, wanting him back. “Touch yourself.”

“Javi-”

“I want to see how long you can hold it before I fuck you. Touch yourself.”

So you did. All the while watching him take his sweet time watching you as he pulled down his own underwear and pulled a condom on, pumping himself a couple of times before finally settling closer to you.

“I want to watch you cum again.” And so he did.

Filling you with his dick, inch by inch, he felt you stretch around him, swearing as you took him in. And then he took his time with you. Reveling in every needy buck of your hips, chasing his dick before he couldn’t hold back anymore. He needed you just as much as you were begging for him.

Moaning his name over and over as your orgasm hit you, Javi watched as you came over his dick, him finishing not long after you did.

Sweaty and covered in sex, Javi pushed the fallen hair from your face and kissed your lips after the silence had settled away from heavy breathing and racing hearts. “We should get cleaned up.”

Pulling his cock from inside of you, he disposed of the condom before walking towards the shower and turning it on. And over the next forty minutes, Javi’s hands were all over your naked body before his fingers tugged at your hair as the tiles of the floor made indents in your knees. By the time you’d both finished, gotten washed and finally dressed, Javi was changing the sheets as you placed the ones from the night before inside his washer.

For the rest of the day, Javi rarely left your side.

Going back out to the markets with your mom, his hands were constantly finding ways to touch you. His hand pinching onto the skirt of your summer dress, his fingers grazing against your hip and lower back as he changed from standing on one side of you to the other. Holding your hand around you, his arm across your shoulders, his lips in your hair, on the shell of your ear as he talked to you. And when you’d stopped inside a cafe, he sat next to you, his arm across the back of your chair which practically was sitting in between his legs as his body was constantly turned towards you.

And when you’d both finally gotten home, your mom saying she was going for a nap, the moment Javi’s door shut, the bags were dropped and your back was against the wall of his hallway, his lips on yours. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”

“So have I.”

Then a question fell from your lips. “How are we going to keep this up? At work, I mean.”

“They already think we’re married.” He kissed your neck.

“I’m being serious, Javi.”

“So am I.”

“Javi, Messina already warned us what would happen if she ever caught us. And that was before we were even…” A couple? Fucking? Dating? Married?

Javi smiled. “So we keep it a secret.”

“Says the guy who can’t keep his hands off me for more than two seconds. You’ll never be able to keep it a secret.”

“Says the woman whose been eye-fucking me all day. Are you sure you can keep a secret?”

“I can keep a secret.” Then Javi noticed your coy smile. “In fact, I’ve been keeping one all day.”

Taking his hand in yours, you pressed his hand to the dip of your hips. He couldn’t feel anything but fabric. Then it hit him. With his chest flaring and his dick hardening, he stepped closer towards you.

“Mrs Peña…have you been naked under that dress all day?”

You bit your lip. “Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

His eyes flicking to the hem of your dress, he looked back up at you before slowly dragging the fabric of its skirt up and bunching it in his hand until he could slip his hand under it. And when he was met with bare skin, he swore.

“Fuck.”

“I’ve been hoping you’d fuck me all day,” you admitted. “I wanted to be ready.”

“Since you walked out of that fucking bedroom in this dress…I’ve wanted to fuck you in it.”

Pulling him closer to you, your voice turned into a low whisper. “Then you better get on with it, Agent Peña. Before I do it myself.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. Capturing your lips on his, his finger coaxed at your pussy, already feeling your wetness build for him. As his fingers began to curl inside of you, you let out a moan before your fingers deftly unbuckled his belt and jeans. Javi let out a small whimper as your fingers stroked down his cock, wiping the pre-cum away with your thumb before finally pumping him a few times.

“Take it easy, baby. Otherwise I’m not gonna- fuck.”

With one hand, Javi picked you up where you stood, his fingers digging into your ass before he guided his tip in. Letting out a moan by his ear, you told him to start moving.

“Fill me up, baby.”

And he did.

Fucking you against the wall in his hallway, Javi pulled the top of your summer dress down and began leaving his mark across your collarbone and down the bow of your breast, all the while his cock pumped in and out of you before filling you up with him cum.

“That’s it baby,” Javi told you as you screamed his name as you rode his dick. Then he watched you come. He’d never get sick of that sight. It seemed to get hotter each time. You begging him for more, your moans, his name falling from your lips as he makes you unravel completely.

But he wasn’t done with you yet. Pulling out from you, he moved you both down the hallway and towards the sofa where he made you come again before moving into the kitchen where he finally fucked you senseless on the kitchen counter.

Both of you wished it could have continued like that forever, but sadly after your shower, both you and Javi were interrupted by the jingle of keys in the door as your mom let herself in before you and Javi could continue your heavy make-out session on the sofa.

But that was something you both had to get used to.

Interruptions.

From people banging on the copier room door thinking it was jammed, to people walking back into the office after their lunch breaks. But despite the ever growing need to constantly be touching him, or him touching you, you’d both found subtler ways to show how much you not only wanted each other, but also needed each other.

From the smaller touches when he always found an excuse to stand beside you, to the ever longing looks you both gave to each other as the other one walked away from the desks. There were crappy cups of coffee always being poured, lunches being made and shared, blankets being used to cover up the one that fell asleep first, the knowing looks when a case load became too much, the soft moments spent after a long day of work just laying together on the sofa watching crappy TV and falling asleep, dancing to slower records on down-days, quick kisses goodbye during lunch or during a stakeout for cases, jealous and warning glares being given to those who tried to flirt with the other, and finally slow Sunday mornings that were spent inside the apartment, neither of you leaving unless for a dire emergency.

And somewhere between all of that, you and Javi had taken a flight to your home where your family and his watched as you both swore actual wedding vows to each other; your wedding party not realising it was the first time for both of you.

Maybe it had taken a while for you both to come together, and maybe it wasn’t the most conventional of get-togethers. But it was yours and Javi’s story. One that, the more you thought about it, started off with those softer moments. One that always had, and always would, contain those smaller touches and simple gestures.

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kysstar · 1 month ago

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R U MINE? | JUNG WOOYOUNG

pairing : : jung wooyoung x fem!reader

synopsis : : wooyoung’s always been obsessed with you — but he hides it behind cocky jokes and teasing. when he finds out someone else has been trying to take his place, his playful act crumbles into something a lot more possessive.

genre : : best friends to lovers

warnings : : alcohol, kissing

word count : : 0.6k

[ series masterlist ]

—He’s always been like this. Touchy. Loud. In your space like it’s his own. Wooyoung doesn’t ask to touch you — his arm just ends up slung across your shoulders, his legs tangled with yours on the couch, his fingers threading through your hair when you’re talking to someone else, and he decides he’s bored. He gets away with it because he always has. You let him, mostly because it’s easier than pretending you don’t like the way his attention makes your skin hum.

He’s got a thing for claiming space — your space, specifically. Always in your seat, drinking from your cup, pulling you into his lap when the room’s too full and pretending it’s casual. Everyone assumes you’re together. You’re not. Not technically. But he doesn’t correct them. Neither do you.

And when someone else gets too close — too friendly — he’s right there.

“You good?” he’ll ask, all false innocence, eyes locked on yours while his hand slides around your waist. Sometimes he doesn’t say anything at all — just appears beside you, mouth at your ear, fingers resting on your hip. You’ve never told him to stop. You don’t think you could if you tried.

You’re leaning against the counter, drink in hand, talking to some guy whose name you didn’t bother to catch. He’s tall, kind of charming in that background-noise way, saying something dumb that makes you laugh — not because it’s funny, but because the alcohol’s warm in your chest and it feels good to be entertained.

Then Wooyoung appears.

You don’t see him come in — you feel him, like a storm behind your shoulder. His hand slides around your waist with zero hesitation, pulling you back just enough that your hip bumps into his. The other guy stiffens, clocks the shift immediately. You barely have time to react before Wooyoung leans in.

“Come here,” he mutters, voice low and tight.

He doesn’t wait for your answer. His hand finds your wrist, and suddenly you’re being dragged through the crowd, out of the kitchen and down the hallway like it’s his party, like you came with him. You pull back once you’re out of earshot, shoving him back with your free hand.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you snap.

Wooyoung doesn’t answer right away. He’s staring at you like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Like he’s two seconds away from either kissing you or breaking something.

“You looked real cozy back there,” he says, words sharp, bitter.

Your eyes narrow. “So?”

“So?” He laughs once, humorless. “You don’t get to look at him like that.”

You cross your arms, heart thudding. “Why do you care?”

“Because I do!” he shouts, stepping closer, breath hot. “Because I fucking care, and I’ve been pretending I don’t, trying to be cool, trying to play it like it’s just fun and games and parties and whatever — but it’s not. Not to me.”

He’s pacing again, frantic. “Every time I see you with someone else, I feel like I’m losing it. I don’t want to just hook up with you. I don’t want to share you. I want you to be mine. I want—”

You don’t wait. You lunge forward, fist in his shirt, and crush your mouth to his mid-sentence.

He groans into it, like he’s been holding it in for weeks, hands flying to your waist like muscle memory. You back him into the wall, both of you breathing hard between kisses, teeth clashing, your fingers twisted in his hair like this is the only way you’ll both shut up.

When you finally break the kiss, chests heaving, foreheads pressed together, he’s smiling. That smirk — lazy, infuriating, too confident for someone who just poured his guts out.

“So…” he says, cocking a brow. “Are you mine?”

#𝐎𝐑𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 #ateez #jung wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung #wooyoung #jung wooyoung oneshot #wooyoung oneshot #wooyoung ateez #jung wooyoung ateez #ateez x reader #ateez oneshot #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung fanfic #jung wooyoung fanfic

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alinathinkstoomuch · 3 months ago

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1-800-CALL ME, FAKE FIANCÉ

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader (part of my fake!fiancee series, but can be read as a standalone) summary: the fbi agent you met at the bar helped you out of a jam so you decide to pay him a visit at work. warnings | a/n: unhinged reader, rossi being a lil instigator, reader has no shame in her game at ALL & makes the first move, the usual banter & chem, channelling all the rom-com feels word count: 3.3k

✧ masterlist

It had been a week since your little fake fiancé fiasco, and while it had been enough to satisfy your mob group of fake friends and stop them from asking questions, it wasn’t enough to satisfy your questions.

Because now, you were curious – dangerously so.

You couldn’t concentrate on much else. It was ridiculous. Absurd. Completely unnecessary. And yet…

You had googled him.

You had googled Aaron Hotchner.

And oh boy did you find things.

FBI Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner. Head of some ultra-serious-sounding department in behavioural analysis. There were articles. Court cases. Mentions of serial killers – plural. You even found a grainy news clip of him giving a statement outside a police station, looking all important and broody.

And as if that wasn’t enough, there were forums. Entire internet threads dedicated to the man. Debates on how often he smiled. Speculation on his past. A truly unhinged corner of the internet where a small but passionate group of people seemed convinced he had once been a male model.

You may or may not have spent a questionable amount of time scrolling through that last one.

But none of this answered the real question: why did an FBI Unit Chief go along with your ridiculous fake fiancé charade without hesitation? That was not normal federal agent behaviour. You were pretty sure actual government employees had policies against indulging unhinged strangers.

Which led you here. More specifically in the FBI headquarters parking lot.

Okay, you were actually insane. But you had good intentions. Intentions of thanking him properly for the night of madness he had endured.

So, you had baked him cookies. Because, according to your mother, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach – which was a wildly inappropriate saying to be applying to an FBI agent, but here you were.

You took a deep breath, staring up at the intimidating glass doors, clutching your box of cookies like it was a ticking time bomb. This was fine. Completely normal. People brought cookies to law enforcement all the time… right?

Swallowing your nerves, you marched inside, heels clicking against the polished floor as you approached the receptionist’s desk. The woman behind the counter barely glanced up as she typed away at her computer.

“Hi! Uh, could you do me a favour and give these to an Aaron Hotchner?” you asked, setting the box down with a nervous smile. “He’s, um, Unit Chief of something very official and serious, which I’m sure you already know, but I just wanted to thank him because he helped me out of a situation – not like a legal situation, nothing weird, I’m not a criminal or anything – oh my God, that sounded suspicious –”

The receptionist finally looked up, blinking slowly. “Ma’am?”

You let out an awkward laugh, waving a hand. “I mean, technically, everyone is a criminal in some way, right? Like, who hasn’t jaywalked or taken a pen from a bank? Oh my God, I’m not confessing to anything, I just –”

“Ma’am,” the receptionist interrupted, her voice flat. “Are you delivering something, or…?”

“Wow, you guys are really strict on the whole professionalism thing, huh?” You huffed, then quickly corrected yourself. “Not that I’m not professional. I can be professional. I wore a blazer once.” You paused, glancing at her name badge. “Clarissa! I am delivering cookies. They are divine, you can have one if you’d like?”

Clarissa squinted at you, clearly debating whether or not to press a panic button – one that, realistically, would probably result in you being swarmed by tactical agents in full riot gear.

Was that even the FBI? Or was that, like… SWAT? Was SWAT part of the FBI? Were you about to go down for cookie-related crimes?

“Are you cleared to be here?” she asked.

“Depends on your definition of cleared –”

“Alright, sweetheart, let’s take a breath before you actually incriminate yourself.”

You spun around to find none other than David – if you recalled correctly – standing behind you, looking just as entertained as he did back at the jazz bar, his eyes bouncing between the cookies and you. “Well, well. If it isn’t Hotch’s fiancée.”

“Not his fiancée anymore!”

“Sure. And I’m not Italian.”

You shook your head, exhaling dramatically. “I just made him some cookies as a thank you. Do you mind passing them on to him, please? And then I can get out of yours and Clarissa’s hair. You have fabulous hair, both of you, by the way.”

Clarissa stared at you like you were personally responsible for every inconvenience that had ever befallen her. Rossi, on the other hand, grinned like you had just made his entire day.

“You know what? No,” he said, shaking his head. “You should give them to him yourself.”

Your stomach dropped. “Oh, no, that’s not necessary –”

“I insist.”

Clarissa folded her arms. “She’s not authorised to be here.”

Rossi rolled his eyes. “Clarissa, I’ve worked in this building longer than some agents have been alive. If I say she’s authorised, she’s authorised.”

Clarissa let out a long-suffering sigh but didn’t argue further.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go surprise Hotch.”

You let out a weak laugh. “Oh. Yay.”

Rossi led you through security and about four different hallways before you found yourself in an elevator. You barely had time to process what was happening before you were stepping into a bullpen that made your brain go fuzzy. There were far too many people in suits, all looking intimidatingly competent.

A woman with blonde hair and a bright cardigan – finally someone who understood the power of colour – shot you an intrigued glance over the top of her glasses.

“I really don’t think this is necessary, David,” you whispered. “You guys look like busy, busy people, and I just wanted to bring some cookies. I don’t think Hotch will appreciate being called out of his very legitimate FBI career just for me.”

“Oh, I know he won’t.”

“Okay, now you’re making me panic, and I have a habit of jumping to conclusions when I’m under a lot of stress. Please, really, it’s no big deal –”

“Yeah, Hotch mentioned something along those lines,” Rossi hummed as the two of you came to a halt in front of a door, to which he knocked before stepping inside.

You followed hesitantly, barely making it over the threshold before you locked eyes with Hotch, who was standing behind his desk, looking very confused.

Rossi gestured at you grandly. “Look who I found wandering the FBI headquarters.”

“Okay, that makes me sound like a stalker and – wow, okay, I guess maybe I am a stalker, but the good kind, I promise! I come in peace. And with cookies… as a thank you.”

“I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it,” Rossi grinned, giving you a nudge as he sauntered out, shutting the door behind him with far too much enthusiasm.

Hotch, still staring at you like you had just crash-landed into his office from another dimension, slowly folded his arms. “Should I be concerned?”

“Not until you try one of these,” you said, flipping open the lid of the cookie box, only for your smile to falter the second you actually registered what was inside.

Heart-shaped cookies. Pink frosting. Extra sprinkles.

Oh no.

You stared at them. Then at Hotch. Then back at them.

He was still staring too, looking at the cookies like they were an active FBI case file he wasn’t quite sure how to classify.

You let out half a laugh. “Oh. Oh, boy.”

Hotch raised a brow, arms still crossed, looking every bit the intimidating federal agent he was.

“Okay, I know what this looks like,” you groaned, snapping the box shut like that would somehow undo the visual catastrophe. “I got slightly carried away – as I tend to – and my mind just kind of… took its own course when I was making them. I wasn’t thinking about you – well, I was thinking about you, but not like that, I swear. I just – ugh – I put a little bit myself into them.”

Hotch tilted his head. “Yourself?”

You nodded, slowly reopening the box as if the cookies might suddenly jump out and throw up edible glitter all over his office. “You know… they’re kind of chaotic but well-intentioned, possibly too much but ultimately harmless –”

“How did you find me here?”

“Oh. That.”

He just stared at you.

You cleared your throat, suddenly very interested in the cookie box. “Well, it’s not that hard, you know? I have a great memory, and I did get a pretty solid look at your badge – after I thought you were going to murder me, of course – so I just… searched you up.”

His brows lifted.

You panicked. “But only to figure out where you work so I could bring you cookies! That’s it! I had every intention of leaving them with Clarissa but your friend David saw me and said I should bring them up myself. And well… now I’m here.”

Hotch’s hand pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course he did.”

You rocked on your heels, watching him carefully. “Sooo… does this mean I’m officially on an FBI watchlist, or is that, like, a separate process?”

Hotch exhaled, lowering his hand. “You’re not on a watchlist.”

“Oh.”

His brows furrowed. “Would you like to be?”

“I feel like I shouldn’t answer that without a lawyer present,” you mumbled, setting the cookies down on his desk.

“So, let me get this straight. You looked me up, managed to talk your way into a federal building without authorisation all just to bring me heart-shaped cookies?”

You lifted a finger. “Okay, first of all, let’s not make this sound like an obsession – I googled you. That’s a normal thing people do! It’s called being informed. And second, the hearts were an accident. I only had one cookie cutter. You think I wanted to show up here looking like some lovesick lunatic?”

Hotch glanced at the cookies, then back at you. “…Yes.”

“Okay, well, this has been fun,” you said, dusting your hands before adjusting your jacket. “Enjoy the cookies, and thanks again for the other night,” you continued, already backing toward the door. “I have not had my name mentioned once in the Veronica Posse group chat since, and for the first time in years, I have actually known peace.”

“Wait,” he called just as you reached for the door handle. You spun around to face him. “Why did you really come here?”

You paused before speaking.

“I need a fiancé again,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. “Yup. Need one again, preferably the same one, but this time it’s my parents hounding me, and they’ve already arranged a dinner and everything.”

Hotch opened his mouth, then closed it. A second passed. Then another. Finally – “You’re joking, aren’t you?”

“I am,” you beamed, completely unbothered by the scowl on his face. Hotch looked like he was about to reply, but his phone began ringing. He glanced down at it on the desk.

“Alright, really leaving now. I’ll let you get back to all this serious business,” you said, but then a realization dawned, making you pause.

Hotch looked back up, brows raising slightly. “What is it?”

You shifted, glancing toward the door, then back at him. “So, funny thing… I don’t actually know how to get out of here.”

Hotch sighed, shaking his head as he pressed a button to silence his phone before slipping it into his suit jacket. “I’ll walk you out.”

“Oh, no need,” you replied quickly, waving him off. “I’ll just ask David – he loves helping me.”

Hotch gave you a flat look. “Absolutely not.”

You blinked innocently. “Why? He was so excited to see me earlier. You should have heard him, all like Oh, if it isn’t Hotch’s fiancée! He really sells it.”

“That’s exactly why,” Hotch muttered, already moving toward the door.

You followed Hotch out of his office, barely managing to keep up with his long strides. “Wow, you walk fast,” you huffed, adjusting your purse on your shoulder. “Is this an FBI thing? Do you all just power walk everywhere?”

He slowed his pace ever so slightly so you could catch up. As you glanced around, you noticed several pairs of eyes discreetly watching the two of you – one of them being David who had zero shame in making his interest known. You offered him a small wave to which he responded with a not-so-subtle wink. When your eyes landed on Hotch he was watching the exchange.

“Keep walking.”

“I am,” you whispered back, trying not to laugh. “I just happen to also be social.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

You gasped, doing a light two step jog to catch up. “Gosh, what happened to ‘Marry me, sweetheart?’”

“You called it nonsense, remember?”

“I did,” you admitted. “But that was after you said something that was incredibly true about me.”

Hotch threw you a curious glance. “And what was that?”

“That I’m too good to consider that group of women my friends, especially ones I feel the need to impress.”

Hotch didn’t say anything right away, just reached for the door, pushing it open and holding it for you. As you stepped past him, you caught the smallest trace of something in his expression, something very close to approval.

Stepping into the hallway, you glanced around, already feeling disoriented. “This place is like a maze,” you muttered, spinning in a small circle before looking back at him. “How do you manage to not get lost here?”

“Spatial awareness.”

Before you could question him further, you felt his hands on your arms, gently guiding you to the left just as you were about to head right.

“Oh. Wow. Okay.”

His lips twitched. “You were about to walk into a closet.”

You glanced back at the door you had almost pushed open. “That’s not a closet. That’s –” You squinted at the sign. “Okay, that’s definitely a closet.” You sighed dramatically, walking ahead this time – making sure to pretend like you totally knew where you were going. “See? This is why I need a fake fiancé. Navigation assistance.”

His voice followed you, dry as ever. “That’s what Google Maps is for.”

You turned, walking backwards now, arms crossed. “Yeah, well, Google Maps doesn’t have your spatial awareness, does it?”

“You’d rather rely on me for directions?”

You stopped walking, tilting your head. “Huh. Good point. Maybe I should just take my chances with the closet.”

Hotch sighed, stepping past you. “Come on. I’ll make sure you get out of here without accidentally locking yourself in a supply room.”

You grinned, following him. “See? Fake fiancé duties are still active.”

This time, you definitely didn’t miss the half-smile he tried to hide.

After what felt like literal hours of navigating the endless, identical floors and hallways of the FBI, the two of you finally stepped outside. Freedom at last, you thought, basking in the sight of the actual sun – something you’d only glimpsed through windows you were convinced had some kind of tint designed to make the inside of the building feel even duller.

“Do you know where you parked?”

You scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. “Uh, duh. What do you take me for?”

Hotch just looked at you.

You blinked.

Then, very slowly, you turned your head, scanning the parking lot.

Oh, no.

Where did you park?

You wracked your brain, desperately trying to retrace your steps, but the problem was… you hadn’t exactly been focused when you arrived. You had just parked somewhere and hoped for the best. But now, with Hotch watching you like a disapproving parent, the pressure was on.

You pointed vaguely toward a random row of cars. “It’s… that way.”

Hotch didn’t even bother looking. “No, it’s not.”

You spun back to him. “Excuse me?”

“You’re guessing.”

“I am not.”

“You’re stalling.”

“I am not!”

Hotch arched a single, knowing brow.

You huffed. “Fine. I may be stalling. But in my defence, I had a lot on my mind when I got here!”

Hotch inhaled, glancing at his watch. “Just describe what your car looks like and what you remember seeing when you got here.”

You frowned, thinking. “Okay, so, my car is… car-shaped.”

His stare was unmoving.

You cleared your throat. “It’s, uh… blue. Or, like, bluish. Depends on the lighting.”

“Anything else?”

You squinted at the parking lot, hoping for divine intervention. “I think I was near… a pole?”

“There are multiple poles.”

“A very specific pole.”

“Right.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Ugh, this is so unfair. I have many talents, okay? Parking lot navigation is just not one of them.”

“Shocking,” he muttered before moving toward one section of the parking lot. “Let’s start from here.”

You followed, chewing the inside of your cheek.

A few minutes later – after much grumbling, a completely unnecessary debate about why all parking lots look the same, and one slightly humiliating moment where you tried to unlock someone else’s car – Hotch finally spotted your actual vehicle.

“Would you look at that! There she is, in all her glory!” you sang and this time, when you hit the unlock button, the lights actually flashed. Progress.

You pulled open the driver’s side door and tossed your purse inside before turning back to Hotch. “Thank you… again.” You let out a laugh. “It feels like that’s all I ever say to you.”

Hotch gave a small shrug, hands finding his pockets. “You do seem to require a lot of rescuing.”

“Alright, alright.” You pointed a manicured finger at him. “Despite what you might think, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I just happen to have a mild navigational deficiency and… questionable taste in men. And friends, apparently – according to my ex fake fiancé.”

“Sounds like you’re finally learning.”

You rolled your eyes, sliding into your seat. “I hate that you’re good at this.”

“Good at what?”

“Reading people.” You gestured vaguely in his direction. “It’s very annoying.”

He smiled at you, one hand slipping from his pocket to rest against the edge of your car door. “I’ll try to be worse at my job next time.”

You leaned forward, placing your arms on the steering wheel with a playful spark in your eye. “Listen, Hotch, Hotchner, Aaron – I have a slight confession to make before I go.”

“That sentence doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.”

“This one’s harmless. Promise.”

Hotch stood there, shaking his head like he could not believe he was still standing there entertaining this conversation.

You tapped a finger against the wheel. “So, if mid-cookie bite you accidentally choke on a piece of paper, do not be alarmed – well, actually do be alarmed. I don’t want you to die before you’ve asked me out on a date.” You flashed him a pointed look. “But it’s my number – since apparently, having my address isn’t enough.”

“You hid your number in food?”

“Listen, it was either that or carve it into your desk with a knife, and I figured that would raise some concerns with your co-workers.”

Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose again, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like why me?

“But, you do have my number now, so really, the ball is in your court, Hotchner.”

“Is it?”

You nodded, sitting up straighter. “Mhm. And just so we’re clear – I expect a dramatic, over-the-top use of it. Maybe a cryptic, we need to talk text. Or a mysterious meet me at midnight type of situation.”

Hotch’s lips twitched. “You’d rather I text you about urgent matters than, say… just a normal conversation?”

“Aaron Hotchner, are you saying you want to have a normal conversation with me?”

He sighed, stepping back from your car. “Drive home, before I change my mind about letting you leave.”

You smirked, finally turning on the ignition. “Oh, so you let me leave now? That is so controlling of you.”

Hotch shook his head as he shut your door—just in time for you to lift a hand, making a finger phone gesture and mouthing Call me.

tags - @fandomscombine @dohmeti

dividers by cafekitsune

#aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner one shot #criminal minds #hotch #ssa aaron hotchner #Spotify #aaron hotchner x reader #mine🌟

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klausysworld · 1 month ago

Note

if you could make one where Elijah is a professor at the Salvatore School for the Young and Gifted,and has a favourite f/student

The Heat in His Life

Summary: Elijah has a particularly fiery werewolf student who gets a little extra needy when the full moon is around.

Elijah couldn't explain what he felt for Y/N, she wasn't top of the class or especially talented compared to other students. If anything she was a little trouble maker.

But she wasn't like the other ones in class. When he questioned her, she'd always have something witty to say back.

She almost never had her homework but somehow always knew what the answers were to it, or at least had some sort of answer that would be technically correct so Elijah wouldn't be able to tell her off.

It was as if she knew exactly how to play the system.

Werewolves were always his trickiest students, they got a little more aggressive about things than others and when it got close to the full moon they'd get more and more touchy. But the female werewolf students also got a little more needy around the full moon. Some of them got a couple extra days off school near the time.

When it got close to, Elijah could feel the heat rolling off her. He'd see the boys in the class perk up and get all over her. He'd have to remind everyone back to their seats and try focus back on the lesson.

But at the end he'd see those amber eyes on him, asking for him.

"Y/N, don't you have another lesson?" He questioned, rising from his seat and clearing his throat as he smoothed his tie down.

"No." Her head shook, her eyes looking up at him from her chair. "Don't have to be in lessons this week." She shrugged and he nodded because it was very obvious she was in no state to be in class. She'd barely been conscious the past hour, breathing laboured and eyes trailing over the male wolves but they'd always find their way back to him.

"Yet you've come to mine." He countered, making the brave choice to come to her desk, glancing to the empty pages before her. "Would you like me to call a family member, Y/N?" Elijah questioned, voice laced with concern. Her head shook and he frowned, she was practically curled into her seat, her arms wrapped around her aching tummy. "Maybe a friend?" He offered, squatting down beside her. Her scent was flooding his nose but if anybody had mastered self-control it was Elijah and he'd had many students in heat before.

"Need you." She whined quietly and he softened slightly, his fingers tapping against the desk before he shuffled close enough for her to lean against him. He didn't hug her back but he let her rest against him for a moment.

"You need to get to your dorm, darling. I can go to the nurse's office and get you some meds to calm the heat and the pain down and have a runner bring it to you." He smiled, he knew that isn't what she wanted but he had a class to teach next and he could not be helping a student through a heat. That would cost him his job and compromise his highly regarded morals.

Elijah came to work there to give a little back to the supernatural community and to show some equality to all of the different species. Not to take advantage of his students.

So for a couple of heats he'd just make sure she went back to her dorm and had someone bring her some things to ease off the power of the full moon. And inevitably a few days later when he'd look out of his window in thought, a little wolf would be stood a few metres away from the front porch of his house, just staring up at him.

For the rest of each month she'd have the same fire as usual, fling things across the room just before he could physically see so he couldn't tell her off. Snapping back at anybody that said something she didn't agree with.

Sometimes Elijah tried to convince himself he only felt the attraction when she was in heat but it didn't explain why he'd have his fist around his cock at least twice a week locked in his office after hours with the thought of her in his mind.

Secretly he loved the way she could command a room, rile everybody up, then just walk off like she was the most innocent of angels.

And then she really would look all sweet and soft when she was in heat. It made her weak and needy like a puppy rather than a wolf. He enjoyed both sides of her.

But he had never planned to act on either.

She just wouldn't leave him alone.

He hadn't expected to get to his office, ready to mark all of the dozens of papers, only to find Y/N already in there. The summer made it so much harder. For all the wolves. That's why it had become a breeding season of sorts, the school was starting to get concerned with the amount of wolf pregnancies.

At least Elijah couldn't get her pregnant.

Thank fuck for him he couldn't get her pregnant. Because there was absolutely no chance he was turning her away that time.

He had her bent right over his desk, listening to her whine and beg whilst he knelt down behind her and buried his face between her ass. Tongue lapping up between her folds and groaning at the taste of her.

"More..." She cried, "needa be full."

"I know, angel." He mumbled, sucking on her cunt from behind. And soon enough he gave her what she wanted.

Had her on the carpeted floor, bucking his hips rapidly up into her as she rode his cock desperately. Poor thing was exhausted; Elijah had his hands on her tits, stopping them from bouncing too aggressively.

"You'll hurt yourself, darling." He murmured softly when she tried to spin around, get a new angle. It made Elijah chuckled quietly and lifted her off his cock, shushing her whimpers and flipping her back onto her belly to thrust himself back into her from behind, pounding into her until she was drunk on his cum. So full and whining about being bred.

"Shh.." He'd whisper gently, stroking her hair as she lay half asleep still on his office floor. "It's alright."

"Need 'em." She mumbled, her eyes drooped as she panted quietly and kept reaching for his other hand.

"Such a needy wolf you are." He muttered as he brought his hand back to her swollen pussy, her legs always spreading for his touch. His fingers slipped straight to her entrance, stroking her from the inside and gently bringing her to another climax. Toying with her poor clit until she was just sweat and tears.

By morning he'd brought her to his house. It was too risky going into her dorm room with her, if someone saw he'd be done for, so he brought her somewhere safer. Safer for them both.

And so, she started heading to his home instead of his office each month, trembling in his bed instead of his floor.

Eventually she started going there without the moons pull. Elijah couldn't help but welcome her.

Perhaps his self-control wasn't as faultless as he once believed.

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scarletwinterxx · 3 months ago

Text

chase the cut - jeon wonwoo imagine

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

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

for my other svt fics, check them here

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

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Seokmin grins. "Sooo…"

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

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

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

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

"A painful cut," you interject

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

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

Seokmin scoffs. "No, he’s not."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Get up," Wonwoo says flatly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mingyu and Seokmin share a look.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We hate you," Mingyu groans.

"You’re dead to us," you add.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then his gaze lands on you.

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

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

"Did you sleep?" he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Absolutely not."

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

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

Mingyu flips him off on the way out.

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

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

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

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

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

Wonwoo watches as you head out, his jaw tightening.

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

Wonwoo shoots him a glare, but Seokmin just grins.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Home," Wonwoo mutters.

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

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

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

That’s when you notice it.

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

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

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

"Who…?" you murmur to yourself.

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

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

He grunts, eyes still closed. "Nope."

You pause. "Then who—?"

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

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

Then it clicks.

Wonwoo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, you are."

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

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

You pause mid-bite. "What?"

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

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

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

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

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

It’s another long shift for you.

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

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

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

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

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

You freeze mid-step, blinking.

Are they seriously—?

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

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

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

“No way. When?”

“When he was talking to Dr. Y/N.”

Your stomach drops.

Oh no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You pretend you didn’t.

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

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

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

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

Your eye twitches. “He does not—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, Seokmin.”

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. Oh.

Is he… flirting?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And right behind him. You.

"LEE SEOKMIN, I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mingyu’s eyebrows shoot up. "What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"He asked if you wanted coffee?"

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

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

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

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

Wonwoo flips a page. "Just asking."

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

Wonwoo hums. "Exactly."

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

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

Seokmin and Mingyu explode.

"OH, THAT'S RICH—"

"DID HE JUST—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wonwoo shrugs. "Suit yourself."

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

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

Seokmin and Mingyu stare at you. You stare back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I don’t."

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

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

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

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

Silence.

Mingyu and Seokmin gasp.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I am not," Wonwoo deadpans.

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

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

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

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

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

But fate, as usual, had other plans.

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

Then you hear it—panicked voices.

"She’s pregnant!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not until she’s safe," you insist.

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

An explosion.

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

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

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

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

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

"I’m fine," you say automatically.

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

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

Only to run straight into Mingyu.

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

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

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

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

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

You sigh. "It’s not that bad—"

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

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

Mingyu barely has time to react before your knees buckle.

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

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

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

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

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

The burn makes you flinch. "Mingyu—"

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

"Where is she?"

Your stomach drops.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wonwoo ignores him.

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

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

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

"Hey, I was—" Mingyu starts

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wonwoo freezes.

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

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

You glare at him. “Shut up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raise an eyebrow. “Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t know what to say to that.

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

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

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

“Hey—”

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

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

You take it, mumbling, “Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then take your own advice for once.”

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

“OH MY GOD—YOU’RE ALIVE!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shove him. “You’re the worst.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The most shocking part?

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

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

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

You blink. “Like what?”

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

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

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

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

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

Wonwoo shrugs. “She doesn’t complain.”

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

Oh, they’re never letting this go.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sigh. “What now?”

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

You blink. “What?”

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

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

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

You hesitate. “…What?”

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

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

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

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

You shake your head. No. No way.

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

You shove him. “Shut up.”

He cackles. “I love being right.”

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

Why hasn’t Wonwoo dated anyone?

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

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

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

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

"You're back."

You blink. "I thought you were asleep."

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

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

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

"Long day?" he asks.

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

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

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

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

“Just the usual nonsense,” you say instead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You okay?" you ask.

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

You frown. "Did you even rest today?"

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

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

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

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

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

He gives you a flat look. "Thanks."

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

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

"Take these."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shoot him a look. "Shut up."

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

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

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

Mingyu barely hides his laugh behind a cough.

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

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

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

"She already has a coffee supplier."

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

Mingyu, of course, is thriving.

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

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

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

Mingyu wheezes.

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

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

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

Mingyu is absolutely dying.

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

You groan. "Don’t start."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hesitate, then shrug. "Not really."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I wouldn’t say that."

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

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

You swallow. "Wonwoo—"

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

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

But in the end, you don’t push.

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

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

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

You’re never like this.

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

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

It’s worse in the on-call room.

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

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

You snap your head toward him. "What?"

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

"No, I’m not."

"Uh-huh."

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

And maybe you have been staring.

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

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

Wonwoo doesn’t look up. "So?"

"She was staring at you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But today? Today, you almost drop your chopsticks.

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

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

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

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

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

You hate this.

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

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

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

"You were weird today," he says suddenly.

You stiffen. "No, I wasn’t."

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

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

"And you’re terrible at hiding things."

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

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

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

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

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

"Sure."

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

"Get some rest," he says simply.

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

"I WAS NOT—!"

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

Wonwoo didn’t mean to say it.

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

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

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

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

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

"Took you long enough."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You went to a supply closet.”

“…Shut up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You cross your arms. “Maybe.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But how the hell are you supposed to say that?

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

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

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

And so are you.

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

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

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

It lasted for weeks.

You never knew why.

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

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

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

You swallow the words sitting on your tongue.

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

But even as you step out, the question lingers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What did I do?" you ask cautiously.

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

Your stomach drops. "What did I say?"

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

Your brain short-circuits You what?

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

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

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

"And you kissed me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You feel something twist in your chest.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You were drunk," he finally says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Seokmin hums in interest. “Go on.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You glare at him.

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

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

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

You exhale sharply. “I have no idea.”

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

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

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

Mingyu and Seokmin notice immediately.

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

You groan. “I’m not avoiding him.”

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

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

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

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

You blink at him. “For what?”

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

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

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

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

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

You groan, dropping your head onto the table.

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

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

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

“She took the bus today,” Mingyu said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y/N!"

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

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

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

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

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

No. He refused to think about it.

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

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

His heart stuttered. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, please.”

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

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

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

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

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

"Dammit," he muttered under his breath.

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

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

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

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

“Shit—Get her inside. Now! Bay 7!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had coded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your body jerked slightly as the shock coursed through you.

He checked the monitor. Still flat.

"Again! 300!"

Another shock.

Nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wonwoo’s face drained of color.

"But we got her back."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wonwoo."

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still, he kept his eyes locked on the door, like sheer willpower alone could wake you up.

Hours passed, dragging on painfully. Wonwoo sat hunched forward, elbows on his knees, his fingers laced together so tightly they were turning white. Mingyu and Seokmin were on either side of him, equally exhausted but keeping watch.

No one spoke much. The weight of everything that had happened hung heavily in the air.

Then, finally, a nurse stepped out of the ICU.

"You can see her now."

Wonwoo was on his feet instantly, not even waiting for the others as he rushed through the doors. His heart pounded as he stepped into your room, his breath catching at the sight of you.

You were stil unconcious, but you were breathing. There were bandages wrapped around your head and arms, an IV hooked up beside you. But your chest rose and fell steadily.

"You’re an idiot," he muttered, voice hoarse. But even as he said it, his hand hovered over yours, hesitant, before finally resting gently over your fingers.

Hours passed before you finally regained consciousness. The first thing you notice is the hand holding yours. The weight of everything sinking in.

You gently squeeze his hand making Wonwoo sit up and look at you, “Hey you” you mumble at him. He didn’t say anything at first, just looking at you. Making sure he isn’t dreaming, he takes your warm hand pressing it against his cheek

“You scared me” he whispered

“Sorry”

He shakes his head. He stands up, leaning down to give you a kiss on the forehead. His lips lingering there for a while like he’s savoring every second. When he pulled back, his gaze met yours, filled with something unspoken.

“You should rest,” he murmured, voice still rough with emotion.

You gave him a small, tired smile. “Only if you do too.”

“I’m not leaving.” You already knew that. Even if he didn’t say it, you could see it in his eyes—he wasn’t going anywhere.

The door swung open, and Seokmin practically burst in, arms spread wide. “She LIVES!” he announced dramatically, as if you had risen from the dead.

You gave him a tired glare. “Was that necessary?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation, plopping down in the chair beside you. “Do you know how much stress you caused us?”

Mingyu walked in behind him, arms crossed. “You had me working overtime,” he said, half-joking, half-serious. “And I don’t even get paid extra for that.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was warmth in your smile. “Oh, I’m sorry. Next time I’ll schedule my near-death experience at a more convenient time.”

Mingyu clicked his tongue. “That’s all I ask.”

Seokmin gasped. “Excuse me? That is not all we ask! How about you don’t get into life-threatening accidents at all?”

You sighed, leaning back into the pillows. “Noted.”

Wonwoo, who had been quiet this whole time, just exhaled, shaking his head. “They’re never gonna let this go, you know.”

“Obviously,” you muttered, but your chest felt lighter. Because as much as they nagged, you knew it just meant they cared.

Your recovery days were… frustrating, to say the least. As a surgeon, you were used to being the one treating patients, not being the patient. And the worst part? Your own friends were your caretakers, which meant zero chances of slipping out of bed unnoticed.

Seokmin was the worst about it. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked one afternoon when you tried to stand up.

“For a walk,” you said.

He pushed you back down with one finger to your forehead. “You’re on bed rest, doctor.”

“I’m fine,” you grumbled.

Seokmin gasped dramatically. “You coded! You died for a minute, and now you want to go for a walk?”

Mingyu walked in just in time to hear that. “Wait, she tried to get up? I knew we should’ve strapped her down.”

You scowled at both of them. “I’m not a psych patient—”

“Then stop acting like one,” Mingyu shot back.

But it wasn’t just them. The nurses were in on it, too. They absolutely loved watching the usually stubborn and independent surgeon get bossed around. Every time Wonwoo came to check on you, you swore you saw them watching from the nurses’ station, whispering to each other.

And speaking of Wonwoo…

He was quiet but relentless. While the others nagged, he just watched you, making sure you ate, making sure you took your meds, making sure you rested. He didn’t have to say anything—his mere presence was enough to keep you in place.

But one evening, when the others had left, you finally had enough. “Wonwoo, I swear if you tell me to ‘take it easy’ one more time—”

“I won’t,” he said simply, sitting beside your bed.

You blinked. “Oh.”

He looked at you for a moment, then exhaled. “I just… I was really scared.”

Your throat tightened. “Wonwoo—”

“I almost lost you,” he murmured.

You stared at him, heart pounding. “…Okay.”

He gave your hand a light squeeze. “Good.”

“But that’s unfair, you can’t use that on me everytime”

Wonwoo’s lips twitched, barely holding back a smirk. “Use what?”

“You being all—” you waved your free hand vaguely, “—soft and serious. Making me feel bad for worrying you. That’s not fair.”

He let out a quiet chuckle, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. “It’s not fair that you keep scaring me either.”

You groaned, sinking further into your pillows. “Fine. Truce?”

Wonwoo tilted his head slightly, pretending to consider it. “…Only if you promise to stop being reckless.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Define reckless.”

He sighed. “I hate you.”

You smirked. “No, you don’t.”

“…No, I don’t,” he admitted, his voice softer this time.

You stretched your arms as you walked into the hospital, feeling a mix of exhaustion and relief. Being back at work after weeks of recovery felt oddly normal, except for the way your friends hovered around you like you were made of glass.

You sat across from Wonwoo at a quiet restaurant near the hospital, picking at your food while he watched you like a hawk. He had already subtly pushed a side dish closer to you twice, and when you slowed down again, he raised an eyebrow.

"Eat," he said simply, taking a bite of his own food.

You sighed, shoving a spoonful into your mouth to appease him. “Happy?”

He hummed in approval before sipping his drink. The meal went on in comfortable silence, but your mind kept drifting back to the last real conversation you had before the accident.

“Wonwoo.”

“Hmm?”

You hesitated for a second, then pushed forward. “Before the accident, when we were talking… You said I kissed you.”

His grip on his drink tightened slightly. “Yeah.”

“And you never told me,” you continued, voice steady but firm. “I told you I liked you, and you never said anything. Is that… is that why you never dated anyone?”

Wonwoo let out a slow breath, placing his drink down carefully. “I thought you were drunk.”

“I was drunk,” you admitted. “But I wasn’t lying.”

He leaned back slightly, eyes flickering with something unreadable. “I didn’t know that.”

You exhaled sharply, running a hand through your hair. “So what, you avoided me for weeks, pretended like nothing happened, and then just… never dated anyone because of it?”

Wonwoo didn’t respond right away. He stared at you for a long moment, like he was deciding something. Then, finally, he spoke.

“I didn’t want to ruin what we had.” His voice was quiet but firm. “I thought if I told you, it’d change everything. And I didn’t—I couldn’t—” He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “I just didn’t want to lose you.”

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest. “And what about now?”

He met your gaze, something softer in his expression now. “Now, I think I almost did anyway.”

The weight of his words settled between you, and for the first time in weeks, maybe years, you felt like you were finally getting somewhere.

You stared at him, processing everything he’d just said. The years of friendship, the silent moments, the things left unsaid—all of it led to this.

“So,” you started carefully, your fingers tracing the rim of your glass, “you spent all these years… what? Waiting?”

Wonwoo let out a short, breathy laugh. “I don’t know. Maybe.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “It’s not like I planned to. I just—no one else ever felt right.”

Something in your chest tightened. “Wonwoo.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you. “Do you regret it?”

You blinked. “Regret what?”

“Telling me you liked me back then.” His voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

“I don’t regret it. What I regret is not remembering anything”

He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “You really don’t?”

“Not even a little,” you admitted. “If I had, we probably wouldn’t have wasted so much time.”

“And now?”

You held his gaze. “I don’t want to waste any more.”

For the first time in weeks, Wonwoo smiled—not the small, fleeting ones he’d been giving you, but a real one, the kind that reached his eyes.

“Then let’s not.”

The moment stretched between you two, something unspoken settling into place. Wonwoo didn’t say anything else instead he reached for your hand across the table, his fingers brushing yours before curling around them. It was such a simple gesture, but your heart still stuttered at the warmth of his palm against yours.

“You’re really doing this, huh?” you murmured, unable to stop the small smile tugging at your lips.

Wonwoo’s thumb traced lazy circles over your skin. “I should’ve done it a long time ago.”

You squeezed his hand, rolling your eyes playfully. “You should’ve.”

After your shift of course he waited for you to drive you home, the drive was quiet. Like how it usually is. But this this there's a sense of peace, something more comforting. Wonwoo made a thoughtful hum before, to your surprise, he reached over at a red light, fingers brushing against your hand. Then, in the most unexpected act of affection, he intertwined his fingers with yours.

“What—”

“I like holding your hand,” he admitted casually, as if this wasn’t the first time he was doing something like this outside of a life-or-death situation. “It’s warm.”

You blinked at him. This man. “Wonwoo,” you deadpanned, but your grip on his hand tightened, betraying you.

“Do you have any idea how confusing you are?” you muttered, squeezing his hand.

Wonwoo chuckled again, the sound low and warm. “I think I’m making it pretty obvious now.”

Your face heated up. You turned to look out the window, trying to hide the giddy feeling bubbling up in your chest. And just like that, the rest of the ride home was spent with your fingers still laced together, neither of you letting go.

You swallowed, heart stuttering in your chest at his words. Wonwoo's hand was still in yours, warm and steady

“If I’m reading this wrong,” he said, voice softer than before, “we can stop. I don’t want to force anything on you.”

You turned to him, watching how he kept his eyes on the road, his usual unreadable expression now laced with something else—something hesitant, something careful.

Your chest tightened.

“You think you’re reading it wrong?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

Wonwoo sighed through his nose, thumb unconsciously brushing against your knuckles. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t want to assume anything. And I don’t want you to feel like you have to go along with me just because…” He trailed off, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter with his other hand.

Just because he’s Wonwoo? Just because he’s been there always, in ways you never fully understood until now?

Your lips pressed into a thin line. You weren’t used to this—him being the one doubting things when it was usually you who overthought.

The car slowed as he pulled up in front of your place, but he didn’t make a move to let go of your hand. His fingers curled around yours loosely, like he was giving you the chance to let go first.

You didn’t.

Instead, you took a breath and turned to face him fully. “You’re not reading it wrong,” you said, firm but not unkind.

Wonwoo finally looked at you, the flickering streetlight outside casting shadows on his face.

“You’re not forcing anything,” you added, squeezing his hand. “I like this, okay? I like… us.”

Wonwoo just smirked, giving your hand a squeeze. “This is years in the making,” he murmured, like it was the simplest fact in the world. “Let me hold my girl’s hand for a minute more.”

You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head, but your heart was doing something completely different—stumbling over itself at the way he said my girl.

You swallowed, feeling warmth bloom in your chest. Years in the making. You’d never thought about it like that, but now that he said it, you realized—he was right.

All those late-night study sessions, the quiet moments in the on-call room, the way he always made sure you ate, the way he was just… there. It wasn’t sudden. It wasn’t new. It was just something that had always been there, waiting for the two of you to finally stop dancing around it.

“…Fine,” you muttered, fighting the smile but failing miserably. “One minute.”

Wonwoo chuckled, and instead of arguing, he just laced his fingers through yours, holding on like he never planned on letting go.

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power-handmaiden · 5 months ago

Text

Chuck Tingle interview

OK, here is the FINAL 2024 Tingles My Butt post, which I've been pretty hyped for. I still kind of can't believe this. While I was figuring out how I'd move on from 2024, @drchucktingle generously offered to answer some questions of mine to commemorate the end of my tingler project! Here they are!

-Considering that your process for tinglers is just to write it out and not stress about proofreading and editing, was it weird for you to see someone decide to go back, examine, and contemplate every single tingler published in the past decade?

the whole dang project was really wonderful for me, for exactly the reason you have just said. tinglers are very STREAM OF CONSCIOUS and only edited with one quick pass so while i think this adds to their honesty and rawness it also means that my time with them is limited. really watching someone go back through them at this depth was like reading a diary that i have not opened for many years, and it jumps around through time in a very beautiful way. it was very moving

-I love tingler character names. I personally admire how many great ones you come up with. (I never know what to name my ttrpg characters.) You just come up with all these great names that seemingly spring from nowhere, how do you do it?

DANG great question cant believe i have not been asked this before but yes there is a type of name that shows up in the tingleverse that is unusual and has a certain feeling and cadence that is very specific. if i am trotting along with sweet barbara and there is a name of a product or a place or something that has this tone we will say ‘oh thats a tingleverse name.’ the reason i wanted to do this in the books was as a very subtle way of saying these stories exist on a timeline that is RIGHT next to ours, so in some ways it is exactly the same as our world but there are these little cultural differences with things like chocolate milk and spaghetti and then with the names. you will have buckaroos like justin and sarah trotting along next to buckaroos named corb torbins-quill or borto lart.

-So, as a reader, reading from 2014 to now, old tinglers and new tinglers feel different to me. I believe you when you say tinglers have always been sincere, but they feel MORE sincere than they used to be. Like, I feel like there was some self-consciousness and irony in some of the early tinglers that you've since let go of and embraced the Chuck Tingle voice more. I don't know, am I imagining this, or does this square with your tingler writing journey? If it does, what has that process been like for you?

i think you are absolutely correct. the intention with tinglers was always to be a place for me to express myself with complete sincerity, but the practical way of HOW to trot like this took a bit of an evolution to arrive at. in other words i knew the basics, but actually refining the best way to express yourself and perform your art takes time. maybe in the same way goin back and watching season one of a tv show can feel very different from season three, even though they are part of the same expression.

similar thing happened with in my chuck PRESENTATION as well, where my main focus was to stay anonymous so the metaphors i used to talk about my life were still true but laid on much thicker. even my attire was a large gi so that you would not even be able to see my shape, which has obviously changed now because i wear suits these days. all of this was a process of starting in a place i knew was important to me and then peeling off the parts that were not helping the message or expression over time

-Is there anything you could tell us about the significance of Borson Reems? I feel like he's more than just another Buck Trungle/Chuck Tangle/etc but I'm not sure what exactly...

yes borson reems is god. not that i believe in GOD in the way that most buckaroos talk about god (i am agnostic) but within the tingleverse, borson reems is an avatar for the creator of that world. technically i am borson reems, because i am writing the books. the question is: are we all the gods of our own little worlds that we create? i do not know, but when i look around at my buds and the joy and love they bring to various timelines they sure seem like gods to me

-A lot of no-sex tinglers (especially ones that aren't romance-focused) vary in terms of plot and structure a lot more than erotic tinglers. Is your writing process for these stories any different?

same process actually, but the sex scenes in tinglers are about 1500 to 2000 words long, and total tingler length is 4000 words which means if you are not including that portion you are going to have to come up with some creative way to fill that space in the story and a new axis for story to turn on. so the variety comes from me getting creative and trying out different axis points

-In "Not Pounded By My Book "Pounded In The Butt By My Non-Fungible Tingler That Is Literally This NFT" Because Of The Current Catastrophic Environmental And Ethical Impact" there are references to an earlier draft of the story that was never released because you ended up disagreeing with the message. Are there any other tinglers that never got finished and/or published, if you'd be willing to talk about any of them?

oh this is a VERY good question. the story of the NFT tingler is that when buckaroos were first talkin on nfts online and nobody really knew what they were, my first thoughts were just ‘oh this is interesting what the heck is this?’ this is my way with most CURRENT EVENTS. and i thought ‘this would be an interesting tingler, i suppose maybe i should make the tingler an ACTUAL nft’. this was in VERY early days so i did not really even understand what an nft was (neither did 99 percent of buckaroos yet honestly). so i looked into it just enough to actually MAKE a nft tingler that was a real nft and put it out. lasted for about thirty seconds before buckaroos were messaging saying ‘oh this is bad chuck you should look into what this is’ and i DID look into it and thought’ oh yeah this is terrible nevermind’. i took down the original and thought ‘well THIS is what art is all about. this is where i thrive in a world of moving living art that is in communication with itself’. so i dove into the research and actually started to understand NFTS and then i repurposed the story into a strongly anti-nft tingler and put that on out instead.

as far as OTHER tinglers that kind of move and breathe and live like this, in communication with the audience, GAY T-REX LAW FIRM is another very good example. that one i wrote early on and i think it was kind of in the model of something like fifty shade of grey, where issues of kink and consent and communication are not really handled well. i think at the time it came out the story was okay, but as time went on it always kind of bothered me and finally i thought ‘i love art that exists in the REAL WORLD and changes and evolves, so lets rewrite that story and fix some of these mistakes.’ honestly it is something i wish more artists would be open to. its okay to let something hold strong against a changing timeline, but it is also okay to explore what its like to take the notes that time gives us

-This one is about Chuck Tingle that exists in deeper layers of the Tingleverse that operate on tingler logic: what does the location inside his/your butt look like?

probably a nice mid-century modern home up in laurel canyon neighborhood of los angeles. kind of quiet and small like a cabin but also very cozy, like the kind of place where you would put on a crosby stills nash and young record on vinyl and gaze out into the woods for a while then walk down the hill for dinner at a little cafe where you spot some actor from a 60s tv show also having dinner in the corner booth. this basically sounds like the start of a tingler and in that tingler i will say the actor would be a bigfoot.

-OK this one is very self-indulgent but if you could help settle this frequent point of discussion I have with my wife- where do the following fit in the Tingleverse bigfoot/dinosaur/unicorn/living object(/human/does not apply?) taxonomy?

-a ghost of a regular human

-a regular human vampire

-a human/fish mermaid

-a sentient winged horse

-a sentient centipede large enough to wrap around a mountain several times (she is handsome)

alright lets trot through these. a GHOST is not one of the four tingle types so you can have a ghost racecar or a ghost unicorn or a ghost bigfoot. ghosts are outside of the four types and do not have a classification

a VAMPIRE is also outside of the four types. so you can have a vampire bigfoot or, of course, a vampire night bus. does not strictly fall into any of the four main categories

MERMAIDS are technically a long lost species of unicorn I DONT MAKE THE RULES I JUST EXPLAIN THEM. this makes the MERMOPED tingler a little confusing but i had to pick a category and that one went into living object. now that i mention it possibly the only tingler that is technically a double category of unicorn/living object.

WINGED HORSE is easy, thats a pegasus which is a species of unicorn just like a mermaid

a SENTIENT CENTIPEDE LARGE ENOUGH TO WRAP AROUND A MOUNTAIN is an ancient creature, therefore dinosaur tingler

-My other self-indulgent question: do you have a favorite bug? (Or second-favorite if you count Mothman as a bug)

i love finding spiders in the house and giving them a pet because they are doing a good job livin their lives doin their thing. close second would be a pretty ladybug

-Any thoughts on what tinglers will be like in 2025? Do you expect to be writing a lot of political tinglers again, like post-2016?

honestly i really do not like writing specifically political tinglers anymore, and the amount that i write has gradually dropped over time (i think ALL tinglers are political but in a different way). so honestly i think i will write a few political tinglers but not many. my hypothesis on this is that my HORROR NOVELS are very very political and so maybe i get a lot of these ideas out of my system that way now. when it comes to tinglers i just wanna explore my OWN mind and heart and butt more

THANK YOU for these wonderful questions and thank you for your tingler-a-day project it was so moving and powerful. what a treat it was an honor to be a part of something so beautiful. THIS PROVES LOVE IS REAL

#chuck tingle #2024 tingles my butt

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seumyo · 6 days ago

Text

ZUKO ✰ 5:36

NOTE. Implied that reader and Zuko are engaged, and reader is a woman in this one!

“Relax,” you whispered, nudging his side. “You’re clenching your jaw.”

“I’m not,” he muttered, though he immediately loosened it. “People are staring.”

“They’re always staring,” you said breezily. “But right now they’re more interested in the fresh chili sesame buns over there, I promise.”

Zuko glanced over and saw a baker pulling golden, round buns from a clay oven, steam curling in the last golden slants of sunlight. His stomach made a small, treacherous sound.

You grinned. “Hungry?”

“I’m fine,” he said.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m managing,” he corrected.

You were already pulling him toward the stall, the ring on your finger cool against his arm. The sensation sends a small flutter to his chest, like a butterfly occupying the space without rent. “You’re getting a bun.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but you had already waved at the vendor. “Hi, Auntie Yin! Two sesame buns, please—and an extra one with chili if they’re still warm?”

The older woman squinted, then lit up with recognition. “[Name], you’re back! And you brought your prince again.”

Auntie Yin's husband cleared his throat. “Isn’t it Firelord, technically—”

“Pfft,” Auntie Mei waved him off with a flour-dusted hand. “Not when you’re standing in my bread line, young man.”

You laughed, leaning into Zuko as you accepted the little bundle of warm bread. “You see why I come back here?”

Just as he was about to hand in some coins, you had stopped his hand mid-way. He looked at you with a small pout, definitely confused.

“Zuko, no.”

“But—“

“We’re going to fight over this, so no.”

“I don’t like arguing with you,” he murmurs.

You pat his hand solemnly. “I know,” you say. “So I’m paying. End of story.”

He didn’t answer anything else until you raised the bun for him to take the first bite. It was crisp on the outside, soft and buttery in the middle, with little black sesame seeds clinging to his lips, the spice just right to not overpower the actual buttery taste. He closed his eyes briefly.

“I remember this,” he said. “I used to sneak out with my uncle, and we’d get these. He used to say—” His voice caught slightly, swallowing with a pleased nod. “—he used to say the best food in the Fire Nation was always on the street, never behind palace walls.”

Your smile softened.

“He was right.”

You wandered deeper into the market, weaving between stalls draped with silks, lanterns, and every kind of fried thing imaginable. People bumped into each other without apology, children shouted as they chased each other with little wooden dragons, and somewhere nearby, a flute player added a gentle melody to the thick scent of roasted peanuts and smoke.

Zuko tilted his head slightly. “You know all of them.”

You shrugged. “Grew up here. Before my family moved to the coast, we lived two blocks down.”

“Wait, really?”

“Mhm. That stall with the yellow lanterns? That used to be where I bought pickled plums on my way home from school. And that guy—” you pointed to a tall man flipping meat over a roaring fire—“used to give me extra sticks if I said please and didn’t rat him out to his wife for snacking while he cooked. Kind guy, really. Just had a habit of snacking, not that I can blame him because they're really good.”

Zuko looked at you with something like awe. “You never told me any of this.”

“I like keeping some mystery,” you teased, passing him a skewer of fire-grilled mushrooms glistening with glaze. “Try this one. You used to like mushrooms, right?”

“I still like mushrooms.”

“Then don’t make that face and eat it.”

He bit into it, reluctantly. The glaze was spicy, sweet, and smoky all at once. He blinked. “Okay, fine. That’s—really good.”

“Told you.”

You two kept walking, you pausing every so often to wave or chat or haggle for something small—an herbal tea, a dumpling wrapped in banana leaf, or dried fruit you tucked into the folds of your sleeve for later. Zuko stayed mostly quiet, watching you, feeling the tension in his chest unwind inch by inch. Your laugh was infectious, the kind that made other people smile without realizing it. More than once, he found himself smiling too, caught off guard by the sound.

At one point, you dragged him over to a table surrounded by children and old men playing tile games.

“[Name], my girl!” one of them called, holding up a tile. “Still cheating at dragon tiles?”

“Only when you let me win,” you said with a wink.

Zuko stood beside you, bemused. “You’ve played dragon tile in public?”

“She won in public,” one of the elders cackled. “Took my whole snack allowance for the week.”

You handed over a few coins with a mock-guilty face. “Here, I owe you for that.”

“Isn’t there a law that states it’s illegal to play mahjong in public?”

...

"I don't know, is there?"

Before he could dwell on the thought for too long, you had already been ushering Zuko to the next stop. “You’ve been in more street fights than I have.”

“You’d be surprised what people will bet when they think a girl in ribbons doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

“I think I married a con artist.”

You gave him a pleased smile. “Took you this long to figure that out?”

You rounded a quieter corner of the market as the last of the sun dipped behind the rooftops. Lanterns glowed in the gathering dusk, and music trickled through the air. You led him to a little bench tucked between two carts, one selling sticky rice and the other spiced nuts. You flopped down with a sigh, tugging him beside you.

For a while, you two just sat.

Zuko leaned back, watching the lanterns sway in the breeze.

“This was… good.”

You bumped your shoulder against his. “You don’t always have to be Firelord, you know.”

“I kind of do,” he said, but it was quiet.

“You kind of don’t. Not with me, at least.”

He turned to look at you. “I don’t think I ever realized how much I missed this kind of quiet.”

You hummed. “That’s what I’m here for. To remind you.”

Zuko hesitated for a moment, then rested his hand on yours, lacing your fingers together, his finger idly playing with the ring on yours. It's nice, he thinks, just being with you like this. The market was bustling around you, but for a moment, it all faded—just a man and his beloved, full of street food and soft lantern light, sharing a bench and a memory and the kind of peace he was still learning to let himself have.

#‹𝟹 𓏲🗒️ꜝֶָ֢ ʾʾ #zuko x reader #zuko x you #zuko x y/n #zuko x fem!reader #zuko fluff #zuko drabble #zuko imagine #atla x reader #atla fluff #atla drabble #atla zuko #prince zuko #atla imagine

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sleepymarimo · 2 years ago

Note

I have this head cannon that I’ve been thinking of for awhile and just had to share with you.

Imagine y/n growing up with zoro in the village and she’s a couple years younger than him and called him zoozoo once, but he kinda liked it so he let her keep calling him that.

Fast forward to them running into each other at a random market while he’s out shopping with sanji and sanji hears her call him zoozoo. Once they leave, sanji makes fun of him by calling him zoozoo and Zoro just pulls one of his swords and looks him dead in there while saying, “call me that again and I’ll cut your tongue off. Only one person can ever call me that and it’s not you.”

𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬.

summary: read above! pairing: zoro x fem!reader cw: none! mostly fluff, perhaps a bit bittersweet an: hi anon!! i just had to write this bc it was too cute :) also pris try not to write something under 1k words challenge go!! ugh i need to tone it down fr... anyway, enjoy some fluff and thank the anon for their sweet hc.. also im going for a new theme soooo... wc: 2k

you were like a little fly, always buzzing around him.

technically, it was kuina that you clung to, but it might as well have been him, too.

every duel and training session, you were there. you'd clap your hands and cheer on kuina, the girl you'd come to see as an older sister of sorts. "get him kookoo!" came your chant, a toothy grin on your face as you watched the green-haired boy lose his temper once again. "y'can't beat kookoo, zoro!"

even as he barks at you to shut up, you can't help but grin. you know that you'll be scrambling to get him bandages later and you know that he'll refuse your help, all while kuina laughed in the background. this was the dynamic, the camaraderie you had all shared. kuina, zoro and you.

then it all came to an abrupt halt.

kuina's death hit everyone hard. you were inconsolable, missing her so dearly that it made your heart hurt. not knowing what else to do, you turn to the green haired boy who was the closest thing you had to her.

the two of you stand at her grave, one of your tiny hands balled into the fabric of his shirt as if he'd disappear at any moment. your free hand rubs at your tender cheeks, red and swollen from the tears you'd been shedding. "i-i miss-s her, zoozoo."

he fights back the tears in his own eyes as he keeps his gaze locked on the stone slab in front of him. this whole body is still as he utilizes as much of his willpower as possible. he's enraged. he's in mourning. he doesn't quite know how to cope in any way that isn't fighting.

your new nickname for him doesn't go unnoticed- a play on the same one you used to call kuina. he takes it with pride, not bothering to correct you.

he grabs your hand and roughly tugs you along to the training area. there was no way in hell that he'd give up, so he was going to drag you with him.

years later.

same scene, different atmosphere.

the two of you are in front of her grave, paying her respect. zoro is leaving yo- the island. he's leaving the island to fulfill his promise, to make a name for himself and become the greatest swordsman. of course you're wishing him the best, hell, you know that he's going to do it, but still, it stings a tad.

first your beloved kookoo, and now...

"zoozoo..." your arms cross and you sigh, trying to remain cheery and playful but unable to hide the concern in your tone. "y'feeling ready?"

he isn't fazed by the nickname, not when you've been calling him that for years. raising a brow and giving you an almost incredulous expression, he answers your question. "doesn't matter if i'm ready or not, i ain't gonna be the greatest swordsman if i stay here."

the two of you start the walk to the docks, a small ship ready for him. you're side by side, shoulders brushing against one another every now and then. he doesn't put any distance between the two of you. why would he? at that point in time, though he'd never admit it, you were probably the person he'd trusted most.

the silence isn't uncomfortable by any means, but there is a tension of sorts that you try your best to ignore.

when you get to the boat, you take a breath to keep cool and calm. but you're so, so bad at it. maybe a few years ago you could've gotten away with it, but zoro had grown so damn perceptive that it wasn't even funny.

"b-bye zoozoo." you nod with a shaky smile, struggling and failing to keep a straight tone as tears prick your eyes. your hands are behind your back and zoro has no doubt that they're clasped together in a bid to prevent yourself from grabbing him.

he rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue in exasperation. "y'such a pain in the ass." one of his arms slings around your shoulders and begrudgingly brings you into his chest. of course he made sure no one else was around as he did so, opting to look off toward the sea instead of down at your teary face. "i'll be fine. grow up, will ya?"

your hands unclasp and you cling to his shirt, small laughs mixing with your sniffles. "shut-t up, zoozoo."

he doesn't say anything, but if you'd quit being a crybaby for two seconds you'd notice how his grip tightened on his wado ichimonji, his knuckles whitening. the swordsman is determined to do this, but hell, even he'd be lying if he said that this didn't... well, suck.

soon after, the two of you say your final goodbyes.

he catches sight of your smile as the waves took him away, and he has to turn around. his focus is on the horizon, ending the chapter of his life that had you in it.

you're damn persistent though, like a little fly. he can't help but smirk at your words, yelled and carried by the wind.

"you're gonna be the best damn swordsman ever, zoozoo!"

such memories only come to the swordsman when he's had enough booze. when he looks at the moon and the ship is quiet except for the sound of creaking wood and crashing waves.

the thousand sunny had been docked on this island for around a day. it was a nice place, lively and sporting a plethora of shops with goods ranging from tropical fruits to exotic spices.

zoro curses when he swears he passes by the same stall for the hundredth time. "damn cook, always gettin' lost..." he grumbles, not acknowledging his notorious tendency to lose his way.

before he could take another step, he freezes at the sound of a voice that he'd only heard when he was dreaming or completely shit-faced.

"zoozoo?"

the way he turns around is almost mechanical. at this stage of his life, things like this didn't really pull a reaction from him. hell, he hadn't felt this way since he'd ran into that marine in loguetown. it was like seeing a ghost, but you're not one by any means.

he says your name, the sound almost foreign on his lips.

then he straightens up, his rational self catching up to him. you. here. in the new world?

one of his large hands makes a grab at your wrist, pulling you to an alleyway where the two of you could have some more privacy.

he has too many questions, too many thoughts and he'd be damned if he said it, but too many feelings, too. his tone is unintentionally gruff when he speaks, presenting as irritated to mask the protective urges simmering beneath the surface. "what the hell are you doin' here, huh?" you're still like a damn fly...

you take a moment to assess him, his new scars and his physique and everything. it's not like you hadn't seen him... but you're not going to admit to him that a few of his wanted posters are very much in your possession.

he still seems to be as brash as ever. headstrong and bull-headed and caring, in his own blunt way. it's not like you expected him to change much, but still, it's a relief to hear him speak to you as if you hadn't seen him in years. "well i wasn't gonna stay there either!" you defend, stubbornly crossing your arms.

that sparks a conversation about what you've been up to. he's always been alright with just letting you chatter away, but he makes sure to pay extra attention to what you tell him. your goals, your plans and where you'll be going. damn you, making this harder for him by not staying at shimotsuki village.

he's proud though, he really is.

as you continue to speak, he finds his focus directed on your expression and body language. now that the shock has worn off, he gets a closer look at you. your fingers twitch lightly, your arms snuggly crossed over your chest as if you were holding yourself together.

he remembers you being rather comfortable and relaxed around him, only growing restless when you were struggling to hold down the torrents of emotion that you were prone to feeling.

the last time he saw you like this was when he left, when you were too prideful to reach out and...

something about your little mannerisms is comforting in itself, like you haven't changed. a small wave of nostalgia crashes into the stone walls he's constructed around his heart these past few years.

you're still that teary eyed kid clinging to him like a remora, and he's damn sure that that won't ever change. you can hide it all you want, but unfortunately, he knows you.

you're good, but he's better.

"oi, c'mere, you damn crybaby." he huffs, expertly masking his satisfaction as he slings an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his chest. a smirk tugs at his lips as he looks down on you, hell, he even wraps his other arm around you too. "thought i told ya to grow up, dumbass."

your arms wrap around him and you hide your sniffle with a scoff. "yeah, and i think i told you to shut up, zoozoo." you instinctively hold him a bit tighter. "bet you didn't miss all this crybaby stuff."

oh, if you knew how wrong you were.

the moment is cut short when an exasperated yell fills the air. "oi, marimo, what the hell are you doing with a gorgeous woman!"

zoro's grip tightens on you for a split second before he releases you with a growl, his expression morphing into one of annoyance. he turns around to face the blond, hand reaching for his blade. "mind your damn business, cook! i'll cut you up like a-"

they bicker for a few minutes while you watch on in confusion, before the cook tells him that there are marines on the island. the blond, not wanting the swordsman to get lost again, firmly grips his arm and tugs him along.

zoro's gaze flickers back to yours, hardened and glinting with determination. yet, beneath that, you can see the underlying emotion.

it makes you smile, and even as he's being tugged away, you give him a big grin letting him know that you'll be okay. a smile that says you believe in him and that you know he'll be the greatest swordsman this world has ever seen. most importantly, it tells him that you'll be there waiting for him when it's all done.

your lips part and you yell out. "bye, zoozoo!"

it's a while later when zoro and sanji finally quit their running, the thousand sunny go just up ahead in the distance.

"tch, can't believe a beautiful woman like her would want anything to do with a brute like you." sanji huffs, clearly envious and annoyed as he pulls out a cigarette and lighter.

zoro's scowl deepens, not quite up for discussing any sort of feelings with the cook. "shut the hell up, curly brows." he says, his eye subtly sneaking a final glance at the town. "it's not like that."

sanji breathes out a large puff of smoke, his form relaxing somewhat. "yeah, yeah... sure. whatever you say, zoozoo."

the air changes, going almost still as sanji finds himself looking down at a blade being held to his neck. zoro holds his sword up to the cook, glaring at him with a murderous intent.

they've had their fair share of fights, never actually meaning to harm one another, but zoro makes it clear that this subject is not up for debate. “call me that again and i’ll cut your tongue off." he growls, inching the blade a little closer. "only one person can ever call me that, and it’s not you.”

#roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #zoro fluff #one piece fluff

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withahappyrefrain · 6 months ago

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Ok hear me out. I just saw your 60 Meet Cutes list and, I know you already technically kind of wrote a fic about Bob being high off his meds after a training exercise puts him in the hospital. But I saw #5) A is a doctor/nurse treating B for an injury, but B won't stop flirting, and all I can think of is Bobby high of his rocker following an injury/surgery after a training exercise gone wrong and all he keeps doing is flirt with his doctor. And the dagger squad was visiting him post-surgery and they’re all cackling from the normally quiet Bob rizzing up his doctor. And then maybe that’s how he meets his wife 😂

Working at the Naval Medical Center meant several things.

One, there would always be patients. Whether it was the soldiers themselves or their family. Primary care, immediate care, your workplace did it all.

Second, no injury was too abnormal. A patient’s needs could range from needing a sling due to falling in the middle of bootcamp to delivering a baby.

Third and most importantly, don’t fall for a patient. The chances of them being married were high, plus it made things complicated.

You were doing a great job at following all three. Until today.

Lieutenant Commander Robert Floyd was a WSO for the Navy. He and his pilot had to eject from their jet during training due to a bird strike. While he got out of the jet okay, it was the landing that got him. His left arm was definitely sprained and he had a fractured rib. Combined with all the bruising that littered his left side, needless to say he was in a lot of pain. Thankfully, he didn’t need surgery, but he did need quite the cocktail of pain medication.

No amount of bruising could hide his handsome face. It was the first thing you noticed when you walked into his room. His long lashes fanned his face. Faded freckles scattered across his face and neck, like constellations. You had seen him before, visiting other pilots and checking in on their family members. Even spoke to him a few times when he asked how they were doing. But never anything in depth.

When he was first brought in, he was barely conscious. You had explained to him what was happening, that they were putting him under to do a full body inspection. He had looked up at you with those big blue eyes and God, he was just so cute. You could admire how cute a patient was, nothing wrong with that, right?

At the sound of the door opening, his eyelids fluttered open, revealing eyes bluer than sapphires.

“Hi Mr. Floyd. Are you doing alright?” Your voice was lithe and gentle, he was still waking up after all. He mumbled something in response.

“What was that Mr. Floyd?” Moving closer, you hoped you could hear him better. It totally wasn’t to admire how cute he was. No, not at all.

“’m Bob,” His words were slow, but clearer, “Mr. Floyd’s my dad.”

“Bob it is,” you couldn’t help but giggle, “I’m just checking in on you, see if the medication is working. I’m going to help you sit up, alright?”

Bob nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. Placing your chart down on the nightstand, you gingerly helped him sit up, just enough to do your job.

“This is an important day f’me,” there was a slight twang, complimenting the richness of his voice.

“Oh really now?” Already, you were creating a list of possibilities; birthday, partner’s birthday, anniversary-

“Yeah. Not every day you’re touched by an angel,” a soft, droopy smile graced his face as he looked up at you.

Oh.

It was far from the first time a patient had flirted with you. But it was the first time it had sent a warm rush throughout your body.

“That’s um, very kind of you Mr. Floyd-”

“Bob,” he corrected.

“That’s very kind of you Bob. But I’m no angel. I’m actually about to do some things that may hurt,” you warned.

Bob was quite coherent while you checked his vitals. He answered all your questions with great ease, even had some questions for you. It felt more like a first date than checking a patient-

No, you couldn't think like that.

“Alright Bob, it's time to check your injuries. Let me know if any of the places I touch cause me pain,” you warned.

His brows furrowed in concern, “But I…I haven't taken you out to dinner yet.”

Holy shit, he was darling.

You began at his shoulders. He watched your nimble fingers move about. “You don’t have a ring,” he stated. Probably should have asked that before referencing taking you on a date but again. Meds.

“Um no, I don’t.” Usually pain medication would cause some patients to be blunt, to make odd statements. Usually, you could ignore it and continue on with your responsibilities.

“Well that’s stupid. How has someone not married you yet?” Just ignore him, just keep working.

“Well,” you laughed nervously, “That is a whole can of worms that I doubt you want open. Does it hurt here Bob?”

“No. But how has someone not married you yet? You’re so sweet and smart and patient, also funny too. I still laugh when I think about how you told Jake to sit down and shut up a few months ago. What am I not getting?”

“Well,” you sighed, “For starters, I work long and unusual hours.”

“So do I,” He replied. His body was deceivingly muscular, smooth and firm. Not even a hospital gown could hide it and holy crap, that was so inappropriate.

“So as a result, not a lot of people see me as dateable. I also just moved to the area less than a year ago and it’s been hard finding people,” you confessed, trying to swallow the bitter pill as you moved to his arms. It was easier since you had his huge biceps to focus on.

“Well, those people are stupid. If you care about someone, you’d make it work.”

“I wish more people thought like that. How is it here? Any pain?” You slightly dug your fingers into his sides, watching his face for any reaction. Bob Floyd either had a high pain tolerance or he was high as balls. You guessed it was the latter, given how he could barely shake his head.

“Is there any part of your body that’s in pain Bob?” You asked, fighting the urge to push back the strands of sandy brown hair that had fallen over his forehead. Bob nodded and grabbed your hand. He placed it over his heart.

“Your-your heart?” Panic rose in your voice, if he was experiencing pain in his chest, that meant you needed to alert the cardiologist and the-

“Doesn’t so much as hurt. Just starts beating real fast whenever I see you. I also forget how to breathe when I see ya too, but I know that’s due to your beauty,” He explained, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

Without breaking eye contact, he brought your hand up to his mouth and kissed your wrist. His lips were soft and warm. You were a goner. Yes, it was all slightly cheesy and it totally worked. You prayed he couldn’t tell that you were flustered, that your body felt warm all over, that butterflies were exploding in your stomach.

“Since when the fuck do you have game Bobby?” You were thankful for the voice that interrupted. Turning around, you saw a group of pilots standing at the doorway, holding cards and flowers.

“Um, are you friends of Lieutenant Floyd?” Even your voice was shaky, the professional composure that always got you compliments in med school now completely gone.

“We’re friends, and I apologize for my coworker’s outburst,” You recognized the mustached pilot, having seen him a few months ago when his wife delivered their first child. Lieutenant Bradshaw.

“Oh please, I know you’re just as shocked as I am to see Bob finally making a move on the woman he’s been crushing on for months,” The blonde pilot retorted, completely oblivious to the glares he was receiving from the other pilots.

“I said I was waiting for the right time!” Bob hadn’t let go of your hand, “I know it should have been sooner. I’m sorry.”

“Um, Lieutenant Floyd isn’t ready for visitors yet. Could you please move to the waiting area?” Letting go of Bob’s hand caused him to form an adorable pout with his pink lips.

Once the group has gotten out of your hair, you look around the room, frazzled. Grabbing his chart, you began checking things off.

“Alright, minimal pain though we’ll check again later when your medication has worn off. Heart rate is normal, as is your blood pressure and-”

“I'm sorry,” looking up, there was Bob with a concerned expression written all over his face.

“Oh Mr. Floyd, you're fine. I know you're on a lot of different medications and that causes people to act-”

“I shouldn't have waited so long to talk to you. Was just so nervous because you're so beautiful and kind.”

Good lord, this man was going to be the death of you. The fact he was so sweet, so endearing when he said all these things. It didn't feel sleazy, it felt genuine.

But it couldn't be that. It was due to the medicine. So you'd just have to play along.

“Don't worry about it Bob. There's always tomorrow. Or, in your case, three days after tomorrow.” The comment got a laugh out of Bob, revealing a melodic giggle.

“You mean it? I can ask you out after I rest?” His eyes were now full of hope and excitement.

Nodding, you decided to not add if you remember it. Once the pain medication had worn off, Bob wouldn't remember a thing.

But his friends mentioned a crush that had been developing long before today.

Maybe…..

*************

“I am so sorry.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, surprised to find Bob sitting up in the hospital bed, face redder than a tomato.

“Um, good morning Bob! How are we feeling today?” You walked over to the bed, looking at his vitals.

“Mortified. The way I acted towards you yesterday was so…..God, I'm so embarrassed,” he buried his face into his hands, “If I've- scratch that, I know I offended you yesterday. I made you so uncomfortable and I'm so sorry.”

You thought about his friends’ words, what they said when you came out of the room.

“Yeah, he’s usually not that….bold. But honestly, good for him, he’s been pining after you for months.”

“Without all those meds, he’s still sweet. Just not as talkative.”

Bob continued to ramble, failing to notice how you were using the clipboard to hide a huge grin, “My momma would be so ashamed of me right now. My sisters would be smacking me upside the head. You’re a doctor and a darn good one at that and I just acted like such a…..why are you smiling?”

“Because I think you’re cute. Like super, incredibly cute. I've thought that ever since I saw you here four months ago to check on Lieutenant Garcia.” Your confession made Bob's eyes widen.

“And I was hoping that after you’ve had your three days of mandated rest, maybe we could go out to dinner?” You paused, “Now that I think about it, we should wait four to five days. I’d feel really bad if I caused a patient to reinjure himself.”

A slightly crooked and small smile appeared on Bob’s face, “Do you like Italian food?”

#my writing #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd oneshot #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd x y/n #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you

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cheeseceli · 9 months ago

Text

How they propose to you

Pairing: Ot8!Skz × Gn!reader (individually)

Genre: fluff, reactions, established relationship

Request: Who in skz would do a public proposal with family and friends, and who would want to do it privately just you and him….

Warnings: mentions of "having a family" at Chan's, but it doesn't necessarily mean having kids

A/n: technically the pictures don't match but they look so cute?? | Daily click

Bang Chan - public

‌not like public PUBLIC

‌there wouldn't be any strangers around nor anything like that

‌but your families are a must

‌i personally believe he would either propose at his parent's home or yours, whatever feels better

‌as he's basically proposing because he wants to make a family with you, it is only fair to have your "past" family alongside as well

‌on a side note, I think he'd be the type to ask for your parents' permission before even planning anything!

Lee Know - private

‌idk, he just has this domestic vibe to me

‌i can't see him proposing to you anywhere that not your home

‌you, him, the cats, a movie and a shiny ring who's waiting to be shown seems perfect to him

‌anyone else would feel a little bit out of place in this scenario

‌and he also wants your rawest reaction

‌when alone, you two are the most vulnerable. He wants all this vulnerability

‌so a private proposal is like a dream come true to him

Changbin - public

‌this one would get everyone involved

‌your friends, his friends, your family, his family

‌neighbours as well if you will

‌depending on it, maybe even a professional photographer hidden somewhere

‌he's about to make the move of the century and he wants everyone to be the testimony of his love for you

‌and if you happen to say "yes" when he kneel down in front of you (you will), they would be the testimony of your love for him as well

‌that's a love to remember

Hyunjin - it depends

‌ever the hopeless romantic, he'd make an entire search on what you prefer

‌his proposal would be planned, that much I know

‌but he'd make the details thinking about you

‌whatever you enjoyed the most would be the important thing

‌do you want your friends and family to be involved? So be it

‌you don't? Then no one will even know about it before you want them to

‌your wish is his command

Han - private

‌no other answer could ever be correct ngl

‌no one else is allowed in this moment

‌he might've asked for advice and suggestions regarding his proposal to some people

‌but they were close to you both always

‌and they wouldn't be directly involved in it

‌this moment would be exclusively yours

‌if anything, that's one of the things that made it even more special to you

‌it was simple. it was only him, who you fell in love with

‌it was only you, who he wanted to have forever

‌the simplicity was incredible and magic

Felix - public

‌i'd be surprised if you didn't know about his plans to propose before he does it in fact

‌because everyone knows it

‌every. One. Knows

‌it's cute how excited/nervous he was not gonna lie

‌but because of that he ended up spilling his ideas to every one who'd hear

‌besides that, he would like to have some support there for him when he needs to ask such an important question

‌and similar to changbin, he'd love it if people could remember this act as a proof of his love for you

Seungmin - low-key private

‌by all means, it would be private

‌just you and him having your quality time together when he suddenly asks for your hand in marriage

‌the moment itself would be private yk

‌but the moment you step out of the room the boys would be there waiting for the news 😭

‌or he'd have told your friends, who are waiting expectancly, but they wouldn't be there on the moment

‌overall: some people would know he was about to propose. They would be waiting anxiously for the answer. However, in the moment, it would only be the two of you

I.N - private

‌he would propose spontaneously !!

‌hear me out

‌no plans, not even a ring maybe, just his most genuine love and devotion towards you

‌and it would strike him at the most random moment

‌so he'd just simply propose to you one day, just the two of you

‌and then you'd enjoy each other's company for a very good while

‌when the time comes to tell the news to other people, every single person would be genuinely surprised

‌because it was so out of the blue?? But it also makes so much sense??

Masterlist | you'll probably like: even after all

Reminder that this is all fiction, this does not represent the members in real life!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143 @sleepyleeji @jinnie-ret

Dividers by @saradika-graphics | images 1, 2 and 3

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rafeslvbug · 14 days ago

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nfl!rafe and reader growing up…

how you met:

rafe was not passing high school!! he did not care about it, at all, he just wanted to play football. he knew, technically, that if he wanted to play football he had to do good in school, he had to graduate. but part of the reason he allowed himself to fail was because of pressure from ward to join the family business. he didn’t want to join the business, so he didn’t do good in school.

dumb logic, or not, because then the school assigned him you as a tutor.

you thought rafe was insufferable, one of the classic popular boys - or at least that was his friendgroup. and girls most definitely flocked around him. but then again, you were just oblivious because boys flocked around you just as much.

he didn’t want to study, but he wanted to see you. a lot. all the time, if possible. rafe was shameless in how much he liked you.

“rafe if you’re not gonna study, i’m just gonna go, you can find a new tutor”

“no no stay! stay!”

“why? you gonna behave? actually learn about shakespeare?”

“nah, none of that shit, i was just gonna stare at you, you’re pretty you know?”

and it always had you blushing, but you’d brush it off.

“i’m not here for you to ogle at, i’m here to teach you”

“ogle..the fuck does that mean?”

in the end you used to come up with incentives to help rafe. if he answered a correct question, he could ask a question about you. if he got through two passages of shakespeare, you’d speak for ten minutes. if he didn’t ignore your questions, you wouldn’t dismiss his compliments.

how you started dating:

it was one of the many incentives that led to it.

he promised to revise for his test at home…if you promised to call him. and what became one call just to get him to study, turned into texts, and more calling.

if you called him, you’d make up some excuse, like you wanted to tell him about something he needed to revise but wasn’t bothered to type.

with rafe, again, he was shameless

“callin’ cuz i wanted to hear ya voice, sweetcheeks.”

yes, sweetcheeks was a nickname that existed from the very beginning.

and eventually, daily calls and texts led to rafe asking you one night, while you were lying in bed with the phone pressed to your ear

“so what’d ya say? we datin’ or what?”

“..huh?”

“nuh uh, you’re not stupid angel, you’re the smartest girl i know. are we datin’ or are you the biggest player in our school?”

and the grin in his voice was enough to make you want to punch him. even more so that it compelled you to say

“sure we’re dating you desperate loverboy.”

reputation:

everyone’s favourite couple. not necessarily the most popular but still the favourite.

involved no one in arguments, and had no petty drama.

the teachers loved you guys, because you got rafe’s grades up and he got you socialising more.

your parents? didn’t like rafe. thought he was troublesome and a distraction. you soent too many late nights phoning him, or too much time teaching him. banned you from seeing him (which was just dumb)

so of course, you snuck out. this didn’t help.

ward? rafe didn’t even bother introducing you to ward because he knew he wouldn’t approve. you supported rafe’s football dreams - ward didn’t.

sneaking out:

would be at night, when your parents were asleep. would climb out of your window and walk down the road to rafe who was waiting around the corner.

he’d always tut

“such a rebel, tsk tsk.”

and you’d always pretend to care

“you know you’re right..my parents’ll kill me, i best go back.”

then he’d backtrack, actually terrified you’d go back home

“no no! i didn’t mean that! where’re you goin’ baby?”

you’d walk around parks and whatnot, he’d buy food for you to share, and you’d talk about everything you couldn’t talk about on the phone.

times you nearly broke up:

it wasn’t easy being together so long, and there were many close calls.

- when his ex was basically following you around school and trying to bully you into dumping him. you weren’t influenced by her words, you just didn’t want to be stalked. he somehow fixed it.

- when a boy was flirting with you and you didn’t even realise. rafe wasn’t mad about that, more or less the fact that you got annoyed when girls flirted with him, but didn’t mind when boys flirted with you. in the end, it was a misunderstanding because you didn’t even realise what was going on.

- you both got very drunk at some party and broke up with each other during then. woke up the next morning, went to school like nothing happened because you couldn’t remember. everyone in school was confused because they had videos of you two yelling at each other (over smthing dumb like him wearing a pink shirt and you red shoes)

– when ward tried to get him to go to a different university, and forced him away for a week. you thought it would have to be long distance, and ward might have tried to set him up, so break up was a possibility. then rafe got a scholarship in a uni close to you, and you guys dismissed all ideas of breaking up.

first kiss:

ive mentioned this before but it was when you left your books behind after studying in the stands of the school football pitch while watching his practice

he brought it to you and you kissed his cheek, to which he quickly caught your lips

“aren’t you supposed to…i dunno, ask before you kiss a girl?”

“alright, can i kiss you sweetcheeks?”

“again, you mean”

“yeah, again, forever, same thing.”

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jensettermandu · 1 year ago

Text

open heart - yu jimin

(valentine's day special)

genre; smut, fluff, gets cheesy at times

pairing; g!p karina x female reader

content; age gap (jimin is older), rough sex, hair pulling, praising, degrading names (?), fingering (reader receiving), p in v :D, think i forgot something

synopsis; jimin had never been the romantic type, but she wanted to try and make valentine's day work out despite how much work she and her girlfriend had because working at a hospital meant being on call 24/7. however to her luck, nothing unfortunately went as planned right from the morning because of simple misunderstandings and she ended up raking her brain for how to fix everything

wc; 12k+

masterlist.

a/n: im no doctor peeps, i just occasionally watch grey's anatomy so if anything is not correct medically that's not on me

It was enough that they were busy, that they didn’t have time for dates, and when they did they were already tired after working nonstop for hours. Night shifts, day shifts, working overtime, working for 12 hours a day if not 16 or 24. Being on call 24/7 as in literally because they were always on call.

That couldn’t be enough stress.

Y/n’s day got even worse as she stood in the patient's room, at 7:30 am, fully changed into her dull light blue scrubs and the white lab coat like every other intern in the room. She was exhausted, not because she was tired, but because of how her morning had started.

The whole reason why she was doing her best to avoid Jimin’s eyes who stood on the opposite end of the bed as they were doing rounds. It was obvious enough, so obvious that she sucked air through her teeth and shot her fellow intern and friend over the time she’s worked there, Yunjin a glance when she nudged Y/n. She tried to get Y/n’s attention, curious about what had happened, the two pushing each other’s hands until Y/n gripped the red heads hand to keep it in place because it was starting to make their other attending doctor look their way all while Minjeong spoke–Y/n standing in the middle of the two.

“Mrs Lee has a history of heart disease and multiple surgeries—” Minjeong who was yet another intern and friend with the two started.

The two attending doctors consisted of Yu Jimin, head of cardiothoracic surgery and the general surgeon Miyawaki Sakura. Both of them were listening yet Jimin’s eyes were not on her patient, but on the intern, the one who she was a boss to in the workplace.

“In for a beating heart quadruple C.A.B.G.” She finished explaining as they all stood around the older woman who lay in the hospital bed.

“On Valentine’s Day.” Mark chuckled, it was enough to make all heads turn to the male intern who got nudged by Taeyong at the comment he made. “Sorry.” He apologised, and Sakura sighed as she was responsible for the interns. There was one thing for sure, this was the best yet the most difficult batch to keep in check as they were all talented interns with passions and a thing for doing things their way at times.

Not to mention with a thing for other forbidden things too.

Jimin cleared her throat, and her stare fell back on Y/n who tried to avoid it, but it didn’t seem to work. The–technically–heart doctor had other plans.

“Why keep the heart beating doctor Y/l/n?” In the end, the girl was the most talented intern out of all.

Y/n forced a smile towards the older woman, hands in the pockets of her lab coat to avoid any more nudges from her friends. The two girls on each side of her looked at Y/n, eyes subtly glancing between the two. This time Y/n met eyes with the doctor who gave a small nod for the girl to talk.

“Scar tissue is too deep–” The girl started, glancing at the older woman in the bed. Y/n knew very well why Jimin asked her. Whoever answered got to be on the case and Y/n knew that she couldn’t say no even if the rest knew the answer too. It would make her look bad and Jimin too if she lied and said that she didn’t know. It was a prestigious hospital. The last thing anyone wanted to hear was a doctor or intern saying that they didn’t know something. Of course, she would trap her just to talk because Y/n was good at avoiding someone if she wanted to. “The heart is too weak to start up again, so you only immobilise the portion you’re working on and you leave the rest of the heart on its own.”

“Welcome to the case, Y/l/n.” Was all that Jimin said as she closed the thick patient file, making Y/n purse her lips as it got extended over the bed and with no other choice she took it.

[A few hours earlier]

“Why are you still angry?” Jimin asked, trying her best to understand why the girl in the passenger seat was still pissed. She knew Y/n, and she knew how she acted when she was angry. The intern would ignore her, give her the cold shoulder, and if it got too much she would speak up because she always had something to say so giving her the cold shoulder was difficult.

“What do you expect me to be, Jimin?” Y/n at last spoke up, looking out the window as they were driving through the early morning of Seoul. It was cold, but in February it gradually started to get better and the snow wasn’t present anymore. That didn’t mean that the mornings weren’t even more difficult because the last thing anyone wanted was to get up at 5:30 am, to get out of a warm bed and get out into the cold.

That was probably the worst part of the day, usually–Y/n was quite sure that the whole day was ruined for her because of Jimin. They never fought, it always worked out with small bickering here and there, but this was where Y/n drew the line at what was acceptable. It was enough that they were keeping their relationship secret–aside from Y/n’s friends knowing–a doctor dating an intern who worked under her would not look good for either of them. The last thing they needed to be accused of was favouritism or anything along those lines.

The only reason why Y/n got picked so often was because of how skilful she was, not because Jimin and she were dating.

“Not this angry?” Jimin unsurely questioned, her eyes glancing between Y/n and the road as they were in her car. The younger had spent the night with her at her apartment since Y/n lived with roommates–Yunjin and Minjeong–the doctor also lived closer to the hospital. All she wanted to do was turn back time to the morning when her alarm clock went off and prevent the fight from happening when they were still lying under the covers naked after the previous night.

Jimin wasn’t the biggest romantic, matter fact she was terrible at extraordinary romantic gestures. Valentine’s Day had just started and she had already managed to mess up.

She scratched at the back of her head, trying to figure out what she could even do if they both worked a 24-hour shift all while Y/n was talking. The doctor was listening though, she knew how to think and listen at the same time.

“We’ve been together for almost five months and you’re still texting with your ex?”

Jimin knew she messed up, but it wasn’t for the reasons that Y/n thought that she messed up. She didn’t have any time to defend herself because there was more than just texting.

“Not to mention, you never mentioned that your ex is working in the department next to ours.”

It all just started to pile up more and more and Jimin had a hard time gathering her words as she didn’t want to say the wrong thing. She never thought that it would matter since it was her ex, but maybe she hadn’t thought far enough. Far enough to think that it would ever come up somehow. Now it had and she realised that she had dug her own grave.

She had to explain why she was texting her ex all while trying to figure out what she could do for Y/n on Valentine’s Day.

“What does it matter if I am with you and love you?” Was the best she could say because the intern in the car with her had stolen her heart. It was as if Y/n had laid her down on that operating table, cut her open and taken her heart out while Jimin was under anaesthesia because she had no clue when it even happened.

“What does it matter? It matters if you’re still hung up on her.”

The car came to a stop as she parked in her spot outside the biggest hospital in Seoul. The doctor turned in her seat and looked at the younger girl. Y/n looked right back at Jimin who looked at her in disbelief, but at the same time, she did her best to understand why Y/n would think that. She knew that she wouldn’t be too fond of Y/n texting with her ex.

“I am not.”

Y/n rolled her eyes at that and unbuckled the belt. “Then why is she in your contacts?” She questioned, grabbing her things before opening the door. Jimin quickly tried her best to hurry up and get out of her seatbelt while trying to stop the girl from walking out on her this angry.

“Y/n you’re–” Jimin groaned as the belt had to get jammed as she continued to pull on it.

A cold wave brushed along her skin and hit her even harder when the door to her car slammed closed and she gave up on trying to undo her belt. The woman heaved a sigh and leaned back in the seat, watching her girlfriend walk ahead and meet in the middle with the batch of interns she was close with.

It would be a long 24-hour shift.

[Present]

Jimin did her best to focus on the elderly woman whose heart she would be operating while Y/n was in the room with her. Her eyes kept glancing between the stethoscope she was using on Mrs Lee’s back and Y/n who was moving around and organising the rest of the stuff. All while informing the woman of how extensive the operation would be, making sure she knew the risks.

She was wondering why she was never informed of the risks of falling for an intern like Y/n.

The girl was too much for her poor heart.

“We’ll get you to the O.R. this afternoon,” Jimin concluded, removing the stethoscope and helping the woman lean back down before putting it around her shoulder. She could feel Y/n’s presence right behind her, looking over her shoulder. “You do understand the risks?” She asked to make sure, her eyes looking between Mrs Lee and her husband who sat in the chair in the corner of the room. It made her wonder how they felt on a day like this because she was feeling quite forlorn at the moment.

Y/n was stubborn.

“I’ll check back later,” Jimin informed Mrs Lee after getting the answer she needed. The doctor did not have time to grab the patient file when Y/n already had it. With one last polite smile, she quickly caught up to the intern who had just stepped out of the room.

“Y/n, can we talk?” She questioned, her hand gently wrapping around the girl’s forearm as she stopped her and pulled her to the side right outside the room. It was hard to talk in the crowded area as they were constantly passed by nurses, interns, and doctors. Gossip spread like butter on a toast in the hospital.

“If it’s about the patient, then go ahead Doctor Yu.”

Now the last name came to play and so Jimin knew that it would take a lot more to get Y/n to listen to her. Or maybe the best thing to do was to let her blow off steam as it had only been a few hours since she snapped in the car.

“Take her for a thallium scan and pick up her x-rays on the way.”

However, she just wanted to try and get a word in, to test the waters and see if Y/n was willing to forgive her for this. Her grip stayed when Y/n was about to walk. The girl who was just an inch taller stopped and the two looked at each other. Y/n’s features were soft yet they could come off sharp, especially her eyes and Jimin always got lost in her. It was enough to let her know that she had no room for mistakes. There were hearts at stake here, but she was quite sure that this wouldn’t cause any hearts to break.

Love was somehow more difficult than any open-heart operation she had ever performed.

The noise of the hospital was almost deafening as so much was going on around them yet there was still that calm and silence among them because it was a hospital. The white almost blinding interior with the faint sound of machines smelled of antiseptic and it was a scent that brought comfort to the both of them because of how much time they spent at work. It was almost as comforting as listening to the beating of each other’s hearts and dwelling in the scent of one another, but even that scent would mix with the hospitals after being in it for hours.

“She and I texted–”

It was as if the only thing on her side today was despair and luck had thrown itself out the window on the highest floor in the hospital and splattered into a puddle with no one there to save it. Was there something she could do right today? It was enough that she sucked at romantic gestures yet still wanted to do something for Y/n, but when she wanted to try the world was opposing the idea.

“Doctor Yu, intern Y/l/n—” Y/n looked away from Jimin whose grip slipped away from her arm and at the woman whom she couldn’t be mad at because Jimin was the one who wasn’t supposed to be texting her. She couldn’t be angry at the doctor who approached them. The intern smiled at her, politely bowing her head while Jimin kept her crumbling composure as she looked at her ex.

“Can I borrow Doctor Yu for a second?” The woman questioned. Jimin looked between Y/n and the paediatrician from the department next to theirs. All she got from Y/n was a smile, her eyes sparkling in the fluorescent yet dull light of the hospital.

“She’s all yours, Doctor Yizhuo.”

And so Y/n left Jimin once again who watched the girl disappear after taking a turn, her eyes falling onto the woman in front of her.

“Repairing hearts on Valentine’s Day when you should start with your own.”

“Please shut up.” Y/n politely said as she sat down at the round table in the staff canteen, placing the tray with food down. Minjeong sucked air through her teeth as Yunjin chuckled. Despite being on Jimin’s case Y/n had been taking care of Mrs Lee alone and only talked to the doctor when it was needed, strictly work-related as she tried to give her the cold shoulder.

It was lunch break at last and soon she would be in the operating room, doing an open heart surgery by Jimin’s side. The head of cardiothoracic surgery. She knew that the doctor had something to say, but she first needed to phantom the fact that she had been with Jimin for almost five months and suddenly she was texting her ex. Why would she never tell her that her ex was a woman she met every day and at times worked with together?

“Why are you avoiding Doctor Heart Snatcher?” She rolled her eyes at Yunjin’s words–nickname coming from her field and looks– the two guys looked at them as everyone wanted an answer as to why Y/n was avoiding Jimin. Not only that but why the heart doctor’s lingering gaze lingered more than usual. It was almost filled with longing despite the two being in the same room. It was difficult to look at for them.

“She’s texting with her ex,” Y/n grumbled, using the chopsticks to play around with the food on her tray as she could barely eat from the bitterness that covered her heart. It was causing her heart to twist at the sour bitterness that got caused by being away from each other. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to mend it by simply going to the person who was an expert when it came to hearts. In a few hours, she had to be in the O.R. and would be stuck in that room with Jimin for six hours if not more.

“What?” Mark was the one to exclaim first, pushing his tray forward and resting his elbows on the table to lean closer to the girl who sat opposite him.

“Are you serious?” Yunjin asked next, looking at Y/n with her head tilted.

“Yes she still has her ex in her contacts and…” Y/n trailed off, still baffled by the fact that she had even worked with Jimin’s ex without knowing it. It wasn’t like she would let it get in the way because she was professional at work, but she would have felt less of a fool if she had known. It was almost embarrassing to admit.

“And?” Taeyong asked.

“She works here,” her voice withered as she said it in a whisper. Minjeong offered her comfort by patting her thigh before going back to eat her food. “Told you it was a bad idea to date Doctor Heart Snatcher.” She mumbled and Y/n dismissed her as she grabbed the water bottle, unscrewing it. The vixen frowned. This wasn’t enough to make her doubt Jimin was it? Has it been a bad idea to date her?

“If she knows how to fix a heart she surely knows how to break it too,” Mark commented.

“She hasn’t broken my heart–” Y/n cleared the air as they made it sound like they were going through a break-up when all she was doing was taking some time to process it. “I’m just pissed she didn’t tell me and that she is texting her for whatever reason.” The longer that she thought about it the better it would be to hear the reason why. Maybe she had been a bit too impulsive with her accusations and should have listened to Jimin first. At the same time, she was too stubborn to let her ego down and ask after avoiding listening to her in the first place.

“Who is it though?” Taeyong questioned and Y/n subtly glanced around. The canteen was busy with staff members who had their breaks, everyone eating together and chatting. Natural light was cast through the big windows and this was one of the few places that wasn’t as dull because of the eye-hurting fluorescent lights. It was always busy, but not with people running because their pagers went off or pushing patients through the halls. Shoes didn’t squeak as loud because it all got muffled by the people who were talking.

The scent of antiseptics wasn’t present either and that was what stole comfort from this place for Y/n.

“I’m not telling.” She knew that it wasn’t her place to reveal her girlfriend’s past and private relationships to anyone even if they were her friends. It was enough that they knew about their relationship even if they had been hiding it for the first few months until Yunjin walked in on them about to remove each other’s clothes after forgetting to lock the on-call room. Luckily enough it was Yunjin and not someone else who could get them in trouble–such as any envious workers or Jimin’s boss who did not tolerate doctors dating first-year interns.

“I bet it’s that nurse Aeri, they’re so close.” Yunjin started to guess as Y/n ignored what they were saying, trying to eat some of the food to be able to stand in the O.R. for six hours.

“Why would she be close with her ex?”

“Well, she’s texting her so they’re still close.”

“Texting and talking face to face is different.”

“Not when it’s your ex.”

“What if it’s Doctor Miyawaki?”

“That would be even worse.”

“Do you guys not have your own private lives to worry about? As far as I remember neither of you have any plans for Valentine’s Day and that’s why you all took the 24-hour shift.” The intern finally came back into the conversation that died down right after she finished her words.

“I’d say something, but Doctor Heart Snatcher is on her way here.” Y/n looked up from her tray and looked to her right where Yunjin was and looking past the girl she spotted Jimin. No matter how pissed she was, there was no room in her to deny how attractive her Heart Snatcher actually was in her navy blue scrubs, white lab coat, her black hair up in a ponytail, and her eyes always on Y/n.

This was the same woman who she would stand with for six hours in the O.R. and both of them loved their job enough to not get distracted by each other. It was yet another thing Y/n loved about Jimin, the fact that she managed to learn so much from her and how work and relationship-oriented she was and made it work out with this demanding job.

She made it so much harder to avoid her and before Y/n knew it the woman was by their table, hands in the pockets of her white coat, the nameplate pinned right over her right breast by the small pocket with a blue ballpoint pen.

“Y/l/n could we talk for a second?” Jimin asked, clearing her throat as their eyes were on her as she stood by the edge of the table where Yunjin was. Her eyes scanned over no one else but Y/n who opened her mouth, making the doctor wait in anticipation. The intern was only in her scrubs now, her hair clipped back with her wispy bangs gently falling over her face. Jimin didn’t even want to look at anyone else.

“Oh–” Y/n let out surprised, pushing her tray forward and planting her hands against the table. “Oh, that’s my pager, I’m sorry Doctor Yu, I have to prioritise the patients.” The intern excused, pushing herself up from the chair as she bowed at her boss to be polite. Jimin felt even more confused and she watched the girl walk away with a slight job, still sure that she did not hear her pager go off at all. It was somewhat humiliating, but she probably deserved it. She heaved a sigh and looked down at the rest to see Minjeong suppress the snicker with a cough.

“Was I the only one who didn’t hear her pager go off?” She questioned them as she removed her one hand from the pocket and rubbed the back of her neck, she looked where Y/n was to see the girl walk out of the canteen.

“Nope, I 100% heard it…” Yunjin said, looking up at the doctor.

“Yeah, it went off,” Minjeong confirmed and Jimin looked back down at them with her lips pursed.

“Kind of loud in here so you probably didn’t catch it,” Mark added.

“Exactly.” And Taeyong finished.

She knew that she had run off because she felt stupid for not listening to Jimin the first time she tried to explain it. It was one of the causes and now more doubt had grown in her from hearing her coworkers talk about it. The perspective only got worse as she walked to the changing room that they all shared. It was empty and her pager never went off. She not only was texting, but talking, however, they worked together at times so they obviously would talk face to face.

Y/n knew that she had no reason to be insecure.

With a sigh, she opened her locker and stopped from reaching for her phone when the little pink sticky note caught her eye as it was stuck right to the locker door on the inside. She had no lock on her locker, no one did since everyone knew each other well enough to know that no one would steal anything. It was the first time she had any notes stuck on the inside of her door though.

The girl licked her lips and took it down to read what the blue letters said.

Our hearts are a muscular pump, that’s why exercise is so good, but just one look at you and mine gets the exercise it needs.

She didn’t know what to think, but the thought of it being Jimin to leave it there made her suppress a smile. Y/n couldn’t be sure though because the woman never said things like these and she might as well be smiling over a note that someone else left because there were a few other interns interested in the girl. Jimin wasn’t romantic, she had her ways of showing love, but they never came this way. The intern folded it and stuffed it into her jacket’s pocket so she could ask her girlfriend if she was the one behind it.

Y/n didn’t expect a next time, but the next time she did stumble upon a note was when she went back to Mrs Lee to take her vitals and she opened the patient files. Soon enough she had the open heart operation she would get to watch Jimin perform as she would help. It did let her narrow it down to who it could be but she was doubting that the male nurse was leaving the notes since he wasn’t supposed to be in the intern's locker room and neither was Jimin, but still.

She bit her lower lip and glanced up from the file at the woman with her husband, red roses standing by her bed with a card. Y/n had never been big on these things, but she realised that maybe she was if just a note made her feel a bit giddier because of Jimin than she usually got. The words were so cheesy, but somehow that made it even better.

The reason why my heart receives blood that is low on oxygen is because you always steal my breath.

It was melting the facade Y/n had tried to keep the whole day just to show how pissed she was, but Jimin made it impossible. It was impossible to stay mad at her girlfriend because with each second that passed in the operating room, Y/n realised how good of a girlfriend Jimin was.

The intern stayed focused on the task at hand just like everyone else did. Somewhere between those blurry lines between focus and daydreaming, she found herself staring at the beating heart.

She knew that love wasn’t connected to the heart, all emotions were regulated in the brain. However, the only thing she realised whenever she was in a room with Jimin was the way the doctor made her heart beat faster. It was the sole reason why love was associated with the heart. The heart spoke for love and no one listened to their head when it came to love. Despite the brain regulating these emotions, it was the heart that let her know that it was Jimin who hit the bell and made her heart ring.

The only time she did notice her heartbeat was with Jimin because she made it pick up its pace.

The heart they were operating was right in the open and partially numb but beating and somewhere along those lines was how they made each other feel. They numbed everything around them, leaving their hearts right in the open for the other to reach for it and nestle inside of it.

“Mrs Lee is doing well.” The doctor commented, making Y/n lean in slightly closer to Jimin to get a better look at the beating muscle as they stood shoulder to shoulder with each other. The intern was taking care of the suction and the operation was coming to an end, making the rest strike up small conversations.

“Did you know that the heart can beat even when it’s disconnected from the body?” Jimin mumbled, making Y/n subtly glance at her for a split second before looking right back down. Y/n knowingly hummed at the words, wondering what Jimin was trying to reach since these were random facts and nothing new she was learning.

“That’s why mine is still beating.”

“What?” The vixen questioned, her eyebrows furrowing at the words that confused her.

“It’s in your hands.”

Y/n widened her eyes at the bold words Jimin said out loud and only confirmed that she was the culprit behind the notes. It was bold, not because she said them, but because she said those words while everyone stood in the theatre above and could hear them talking. Was this some kind of statement? Was she trying to prove something? Maybe Y/n was reading too much into it, but Jimin barely referred to her as Y/n when someone else was around just to not get caught.

“Doctor–” The girl tried, unsure of where Jimin was heading with this because if this was a statement Y/n was getting flustered. Suddenly she felt worried that Jimin’s boss was possibly up there watching them and was hearing this. It would get them both in trouble. However, she did not get to stop her because the doctor had other plans.

“There are four chambers in the heart, each holds about 70 ml of blood–although each one of mine is filled with you.” Y/n’s eyes glanced at Jimin again, but quickly went back down to the heart that was beating steadily compared to the wild horses in her chest. The doctor looked mostly unaffected but that wasn’t weird since she was supposed to be composed under pressure. Y/n knew how to take pressure without letting her knees buckle, but Jimin truly made hers weak in a way no one else did.

The words were so cheesy and it only made it worse, especially if everyone else was hearing them.

It burned her ears and she wanted to hide.

Y/n barely had time to register that the operation was successful and had ended by the thoughts racing in her head. However, Jimin stepped back, holding out her hands as they pulled off the thick gloves she had been using to operate. There was no time to ask questions now as everyone was praising the other, saying ‘good job’ because it was a team effort in the end. The vixen removed her single-use gloves and threw them in the trash as she undid her mask and took it off after walking towards the exit.

Finally, Jimin’s eyes met her, those brown eyes were so much more intense now and Y/n wanted to hear every little thought that was behind them, especially the reason behind this. The two of them walked out of the room where they just had to stitch the woman up.

“What was all that about?” She questioned in genuine confusion, unsure if her tone was harsh or just confused. Her hand reached for the surgical cap and she removed it while the older woman was already washing her hands in the big sink as they were the only ones in the scrub room. Jimin only hummed back with just as much confusion, and now it was coming off as a confusing game to Y/n. Was the doctor messing with her? Or was all this genuine?

Jimin wasn’t cruel to mess with her this way.

“Why were you saying all that in front of everyone?”

“You didn’t like what I said?” Jimin confusedly asked and looked to the side where Y/n stood and washed her hands. Her eyes lingered on the girl who was staring down at the water that was running down the drain. The question made her look up though and she shook her head with a frown as it wasn’t what she meant.

“That’s not– that’s not what I meant.” She didn’t have the cheesy lines in mind, but the fact that they were said in front of everyone else. In the next hour, it would be known around the whole hospital that there was something between them. Gossip was always working its 24/7 shift at the place without any breaks.

“Then it doesn’t matter.” She concluded, turning off the faucet and flicking her fingers to rid of the excess water before reaching for the paper towels in the soundless room.

It truly felt like some little game to Y/n now. Was Jimin fooling around now? If so Y/n wanted her to admit to it now.

“What doesn’t matter?”

The intern turned off her faucet, grabbing the paper towels she got handed by the doctor who removed her surgical cap. She shrugged at Y/n’s question and reached over to the girl who almost flinched away at the intimate touch when Jimin brushed a hair strand away from her face. It wasn’t intimate on that level, but it was when the door from the operating room opened and the rest were starting to walk inside.

“If everyone heard it. If you liked it then it doesn’t matter.” She gave Y/n a small smile, hand dropping down and giving the younger’s shoulder a light squeeze before she passed her. Y/n turned on her heels, following out right after her though. The area was empty as people only walked by occasionally and at the corner of her eye she could see Minjeong and Yunjin waiting at the top of the stairs, trying to stay out of sight to listen in on the two. Doing a poor job at staying subtle at all because even Jimin glanced at them.

“Jimin–hold on, you can’t just walk away without finishing this.” This time Y/n was the one to grab the woman’s hand that was warm to the touch and Jimin grabbed hold of the girl’s hand. She squeezed her before letting go as she turned to look at Y/n. There was something about the soft smile on her lips, but it wasn’t enough for Y/n to figure it out. She needed more, but she wasn’t getting more.

“Sorry, I have to get going, I have something important to do.”

“What is more important than our relationship right now?” Y/n seriously questioned only to not get an answer as the doctor walked away without another word. There was no way the intern was going to chase after the doctor who seemed in a rush.

Was she getting back at her?

Was this really how her Valentine’s Day would look like? Despite the anger she had felt before, she was longing for Jimin.

She looked towards the stairs to see Yunjin and Minjeong quickly walking down them and it made Y/n start walking away from them. It wasn’t a second before they caught up to her, hooking their arms with hers to make her walk with them.

“There are four chambers in my heart–” Yunjin started with a sigh, leaning into the intern. “Each filled with you.” Minjeong finished with another sigh.

“Who was up there?” Y/n questioned instead, ignoring the teasing and how they repeated the words that had come from Jimin.

“Honestly, Doctor Kim was there, and a bunch of interns.” Doctor Kim who specialised in neurology was another Doctor whom they worked with just like they did with Jimin. It made Y/n suck air through her teeth as she knew how much stricter Kim Chaewon was compared to Jimin.

“What if she tells the Chief?” Y/n knew about the two competing surgeons as both wanted to be the next chief of surgery. This could ruin Jimin’s chances and Y/n was now drowning in worry and a twinge of anger at how careless the heart doctor was.

“Then you will most likely get in trouble.” Yunjin deadpanned, receiving a look from Y/n and Minjeong at how much worse it made everything. The girl was already aware of how they could get in trouble. They had been secretive about it for a reason. It wasn’t like it was forbidden, but the chief of surgery would deem it unprofessional and have his doubts about giving the position to Jimin next.

“I just need a snack and then I am taking a nap.” Y/n declared as she slipped her arms out of the two girl’s hold and stopped at the vending machine. The two leaned on each side of the vending machine, keeping the conversation going as they looked at Y/n who looked like she was in a huge dilemma.

The vixen was worried about what could happen now. She knew Doctor Kim could bite just for it to sting and hurt because she would do everything to become the next chief. She could be cruel.

Did that mean she would have to break up with Jimin? Or Jimin with her. For the security of her spot as the next chief.

“Oh, Doctor Heart Snatcher has you in the mood for a snack?” Yunjin teased to lighten the mood she by accident had made worse. Y/n glanced at the redhead who shot her eyebrows up in a suggestive manner as she looked her up and down while doing so. All it took was for the intern to walk in on them making out once and all hell let loose because she made Y/n look like a sex addict–which she was not, if anything she blamed Jimin.

Minjeong seemed to get a different memo by the words as she leaned closer to Y/n with her shoulder holding her up against the vending machine as Y/n crouched down to get her stuff.

“Are you pregnant?” She asked in a whisper and Y/n glanced up at her in silence while getting the bun from the slot.

“That is not what she meant by that, Minjeong.”

It left the girl thinking for a bit as Y/n stood up, now the two taller girls stood and watched Minjeong piece it together. “Oh…Oh! Oh, that kind of snack.” She exclaimed, realising that it held a dirty meaning and not pregnancy cravings.

“Yeah, but the snack that I mean is a bun and then sleep since Doctor Yu seemingly is ignoring me now after ruining our future together,” Y/n explained as she showed the pack she had picked up before walking away from the two to head to the lockers and get her phone before heading to the on-call room.

“Already thinking about a future together.” Yunjin snorted as she pushed herself up to use the vending machine.

“You’re just jealous no one asked you out for Valentine’s Day.”

“We’re in the same shoes.”

“Speak for yourself, I’m not on the 24-hour shift, matter fact I am heading out right now because I have dinner plans.” Minjeong smugly said as she started to walk away.

“Dinner with your mum does not count.”

“Shut up, at least I got asked for dinner by someone.”

Y/n grumbled under her breath, the pack with the bun between her teeth as she was busy with her phone while walking. The walk to the locker and then to the on-call room took an extra ten minutes because she had to speak to Mrs Lee's husband and tell him about her procedure. Jimin would usually do so, but she had disappeared into thin air and left it for Y/n to handle.

The text was for Jimin, hoping she had her phone on her to answer because Y/n knew she was on a break after the 12-hour shift they had worked. All they were to do now was be on call while resting and they would be called in during the next 12 hours. Y/n knew that soon enough her break would be over, she gave it an hour, a chance of a bit more. She needed more because she needed to talk to Jimin.

She opened the door and was just about to send the text, but was stopped by the voice.

“Finally, Doctor Y/l/n.” The voice startled Y/n who looked up, quickly catching the bun that fell from between her lips.

“Jimin,” Y/n exclaimed somewhere between annoyed and still startled by the unexpected guest yet one she had hoped for. She turned off her phone and stepped inside fully as she closed and locked the door after her. Her eyes landed on the doctor who was in only her scrubs now, her hair down as she sat at the edge of the twin-sized bed.

“Come here.” She gestured, holding her hand out and Y/n raised her eyebrows. She hesitated, especially after what had happened between them a good 30 minutes ago. Jimin gave her a nod of reassurance and motioned with her fingers for Y/n to walk over to her. It was all it took for Y/n to push herself up from the door, placing her stuff down on the table on the way before taking hold of Jimin’s hand.

The woman pulled Y/n over to her and pulled her until she had the girl in her lap, straddling her. “Are you going to say something cheesy and run off again?” Jimin chuckled, looking up at Y/n, her one hand caressed along the girl's thigh while the other reached up to her. She reached her hand over to the back of Y/n’s hair and took out the hair clamp, letting her hair fall loosely over her shoulders while putting the clamp aside.

“Do you want me to say something cheesy again?” She questioned, her hand ran to Y/n’s hip as she pulled the girl even closer to her, making the latter grab hold of her shoulder.

“Yeah, but I’d like to know what you were thinking and about what happened this morning. Some cheesy lines won’t make me forget.” It made the doctor hum, her hands gently roamed Y/n’s body, caressing and slowly finding their way under the shirt she had on to touch her waist. Their eye contact didn’t falter for a second and it was then and there that they both realised their heartbeat that had picked up.

This was love, the brain may have registered it, but the heart felt it.

“Okay, I had to talk to the chief about something and do something else too…” Jimin trailed off, her eyes shifted away from Y/n’s this time. It made Y/n frown as she tilted her head, waiting for the woman to continue. She sighed and dropped her hands, fingers carefully playing with the material of Y/n’s scrubs as she licked her lips before she continued with her eyes back on Y/n’s.

“I talked to the chief about—well, about us because it’s been almost five months and I thought it would only be fair for you and me if I talked to him about it instead of assuming that he would be truly against it.”

“What?” Y/n asked, her eyes sporting a look of even more confusion and worry. There were only two possible ways for this to end and she only wanted one of them, but it felt like the one she didn’t want had a stronger chance of being true.

“Wait, don’t worry…He was just a bit disappointed that I am in a relationship with a first-year intern, but somewhere along the lines he understood that it doesn’t interrupt our professionalism.”

“So, it’s fine?” Y/n asked to clarify, feeling the weight untie itself from around her heart as she caressed Jimin’s warm neck. Her fingers gently traced her skin, feeling the faint goosebumps and shivers that came from the older one. Jimin held onto Y/n’s forearms as Y/n intertwined her fingers behind the doctor's neck who nodded.

The girl had been right, Jimin was trying to make a statement even if it was reckless since she did it before talking to the chief.

“I hope you can listen to me now without slamming a door closed in my face.” The intern rolled her eyes at the words as she hadn’t given Jimin a chance to speak earlier. It seemed like the perfect opportunity had been created because they were both still dwelling on the fact that their relationship didn’t have to be a secret. “No interrupting either.” Y/n nodded, giving in as Jimin’s thumbs softly caressed the skin of her forearms.

“I don’t even have small remnants of feelings left for her as it never was serious and that was why it ended. It’s always work-related because if you had taken your time to check you would see that she was asking for my work number because of an upcoming operation and while at it she only asked how everything was going in my department and it ended after I replied.”

Feeling stupid was an understatement.

It made Y/n clear her throat and glance away, Jimin trying to find the girl’s pretty eyes because she always liked having eye contact with Y/n. The girl kept avoiding eye contact and it drove Jimin to reach for her jaw and make her look at her.

“See, baby, it wasn’t as serious as you thought it was, but maybe if you had listened to me you would have spared yourself some nerves.” There was that tone that made Y/n’s facade crumble and melt right into Jimin.

“Okay…Maybe I did react a bit quick, but you don’t expect your girlfriend to text with their ex and so it just came with a shock with no time to think.” Y/n tried to explain, doing her best not to melt into a puddle right away and hold herself a bit longer even if the ice was melting because of the warmth of Jimin.

“And I’m sorry, I should’ve said something sooner.” It made Y/n lean in, Jimin moving her hands to hold the girl's waist. Their lips met after a long day of itching to ease the loss of not being against each other. It was a simple kiss, coated in honey as Jimin held onto the girl’s waist.

“I forgive you,” Y/n mumbled and tried to kiss her again, but was stopped as the doctor turned her body and Y/n watched her reach over by the pillow. She chuckled at what she had missed when she got dragged into Jimin’s lap and the doctor turned back around.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” Jimin knew that it wasn’t much, yet the smile on Y/n’s plump lips let her know that it was more than enough when she accepted the brown fuzzy bear that was hugging a rose. The girl took it with both hands as she looked at the bear. Considering how busy they were, she knew that even getting a hold of a teddy bear was a great task and it only meant so much more to the girl.

“I also have another line for you.”

“Yeah?” Y/n questioned and Jimin nodded.

“There are three layers of the heart wall, you have broken down each of them and gotten to the middle in a way no one else ever has–” This time the words were deeper, they weren’t just some cheesy pickup line, but a confession that was growing deeper than love. It let Y/n know that Jimin loved her but did more than just love her, she trusted her as she had opened her heart to her. It wasn’t easy, especially because of how they barely had lives outside the hospital, but yet here they were, making it work.

“You seriously have, doll.”

“I love you so much.” Y/n groaned and wrapped her arms around Jimin’s shoulders before attaching their lips again. This time the kiss picked up gradually when their lips parted and their tongues met in warmth and slickness. The doctor pushed her tongue against Y/n’s, pressing and tilting her head to get closer.

With ease, she manoeuvred them around and laid Y/n down on the bed who dropped the bear right beside her head as Jimin got between her legs. Their breathing grew deeper in the small on-call room, slowly heating it as the small ventilation wasn’t enough to cool the heat their bodies produced when they were with each other. Especially when they were so close.

“I love you.” She barely managed to breathe out between their desperate breaths as she bunched up the pillow case in her fists. Y/n hummed, catching Jimin’s lips again, her legs wrapped around the woman’s waist, pulling her closer, close enough to feel her cock slowly growing hard against her heat. It was enough to make her groan and push closer into Y/n, her hips started to gyrate to get the much-needed friction that they both craved.

“Fuck, Y/n—” She breathed out, the girl under her tugged onto the scrubs so she would remove them. The moment of passion only grew a fire that got bigger with each passing second of the shared intimacy. That moment when their hearts beat in sync and yearn for the other so much that it’s hard to hold back. “You want my cock, don’t you…My good girl, my good slut wants my cock.” She breathed out, lips dragging over the intern's skin as she kissed down her jaw.

It did not matter, Jimin always did a 180 in the bed and wasn’t just that sweet heart doctor, but someone who made Y/n’s thighs tremble and beg for more with some sweetness to her.

“So bad, I want to be filled by you.”

“I will fill you, fill you with my cock and ‘dump all my cum inside you. You like that don’t you?”

Her kisses trailed lower to Y/n’s neck, the kisses wet and tender, her teeth dragged along and she wrapped her lips around the thin skin. She could feel Y/n’s heavy pulse on her tongue as she gently sucked with her hard dick fully pressed against Y/n’s cunt. The girl under her pushed more into her, being able to feel the prominent bulge of Jimin’s cock right against her throbbing heat.

“I love it, I love every inch of you inside me and on me.” Y/n breathed out beside her ear, hands pulling Jimin’s navy blue shirt up along her back. She pulled away, sitting on her knees to take them off together with the one she had under, throwing them on the side of the bed. The younger sat up, the doctor not waiting as she grabbed the hem of Y/n’s light blue shirt and let it mix in with hers on the side.

Her hand reached into Y/n’s hair from behind and she gripped it, pulling the girl back to meet her eyes. The grip stung, Jimin pulling on Y/n’s silky strands of hair like she always liked to do and Y/n enjoyed. Her eyes landed on those glossy with passion and love eyes, she trailed down to her wet lips and she leaned back in, wanting Y/n’s tongue against hers.

The vixen kissed back, Jimin’s figure towered over her and her hand cupped her girlfriend through the blue scrubs where her cock was straining. It made the latter huff through her nose and close her eyes tighter while pushing her tongue against Y/n’s. The scalding cock was fully erect, making Y/n tug down on the pants to the second layer that were the boxer briefs.

“Touch it, touch every inch you want inside your slutty little pussy, Y/n, it’s all for you.” Her words were clouded, deep with the moment as Y/n’s fingers ghosted over the outline until she reached the tip that was leaking right through the grey boxers, leaving them stained with pre-cum. Y/n’s lips were left parted, panting against Jimin’s as they moved before she swallowed her whole again. She palmed the hard cock, feeling each inch that would be inside her.

Jimin let go of her hair and reached behind her, doing a quick job at swiftly undoing the bra. Y/n let it fall down her shoulders, and the latter sat back on her heels, eyes falling on the breasts that perfectly fit in her hands as she cupped one of them. The vixen let out a light moan, enough to make Jimin’s dick twitch at the sound. It made her grab Y/n’s petite waist to pull her into her and lean down, her mouth latching onto the plump breast as she held onto the girl who was back in her lap as she sat back.

Y/n pressed down her heat against Jimin’s, hips slowly moving with hands gripping onto the dark hair with the warm tongue coating her chest in saliva. It made Jimin whimper just like Y/n did, her cunt pressing down hard against the throbbing cock under her aching cunt when the doctor grazed her teeth over the hard nipple, gently tugging.

“You’re my pretty whore, Y/n. Just mine.” If there was one thing she liked to do it was to remind Y/n of who exactly she belonged to. Her lips wrapped around the soft and warm flesh, sucking on it to leave her marks. It made Y/n moan, nails digging into Jimin’s shoulders and back to her shoulder blades as the girl wanted her closer, chest pressing into the teasing mouth that played with her nipples and marked her breast.

Jimin hummed, it came from the back of her throat and her grip tightened on Y/n’s waist with fingers digging into her skin as she tried to get her even closer. She loved wrapping her arms around the small waist or having her hands on it, pulling on Y/n like a doll. She helped her grind down against her hard cock, Y/n whimpering right by her ear as her clit pressed right against her tip with each stroke.

The younger could feel how damp her underwear was, her clit throbbed for Jimin’s touch, wanting nothing more than to be stretched out and have her girlfriend fuck her right into the bed. The wet sounds of Jimin’s mouth latching at her breast occupied the room together with their heavy breaths, the faint buzzing of the ventilation dead. One hand let go of her waist, the other still guiding her to continue grinding against the cock.

It made Y/n close her eyes when the doctor cupped her breast, her mouth still sucking on her skin. Thumb grazed over her nipple before Jimin moved and groped at her chest, feeling up Y/n’s body because she loved nothing more than exploring every inch before fucking her. It didn’t matter if her cock felt like it would explode. She tugged on the nipples, gently nipping and twisting, it was enough to make Y/n squirm and whine, unsure if she wanted more or if it was too much.

“Jimin–” She breathed out, the latter trailed her hand down from her waist and harshly groped at her ass. All she got in return was a grainy hum, too busy with the small chest that she enjoyed playing with so much. “I need your cock.” Y/n pleaded as it wasn’t a want anymore, but a need. Her walls were clenching, waiting for that familiar stretch that would fill her to the brim and her grinding only got sloppier and harsher from how desperate she grew for her.

It was only then that she pulled away from Y/n’s chest, her lips swollen and wet. Her eyes fell on Y/n’s, seeing all the need in them, she could feel it from the way the girl was pressing against her, thighs squeezing, but nothing was happening. Y/n heaved at the intensity, Jimin’s hand coming right up to her throat as she grabbed hold of her and pulled her closer.

She could feel the thudding pulse under her fingertips, her parted lips brushed against Y/n’s parted ones. It made her lean back when the vixen tried to kiss her, it tugged at the corner of her lips at how much she needed her. To see Y/n need her this much turned her on further and her cock was aching to push right inside the confines of Y/n’s snug and warm pussy.

“Are you all wet and ready for me? Will you be able to take everything at once? I can only fuck my whore once she knows she will take everything without complaining.” The husk made Y/n’s skin crawl with warmth, thighs clenching as she was wet enough to take every inch. She didn’t have time to think it through because her lips spoke before her brain thought in these moments of intimacy where all she could think with was her heart that in the end made the best decisions when it came to her love life.

She was with Jimin in the end.

With a hand still wrapped around her throat, Y/n’s hand reached for the other one that was gently kneading her breast. Jimin smiled as Y/n grabbed her wrist and she let the younger guide her hand. “I get so wet every time you touch me.” Y/n breathed out, guiding the hand past the hem of her scrubs before Jimin slipped it further down with Y/n’s nails dragging along her forearm.

It made the intern's breath subtly shudder at the fingers that ran over the damp underwear. “My pretty doll, so wet for me.” Her fingers teased, gently rubbing over the material, making Y/n buck her hips and hold back on the desperate whines when she pressed down on her clit. It was aching, throbbing with pain from how badly she needed it. Jimin leaned in, gently kissing the girl’s jaw while she slowly pulled the material of the girl’s underwear aside.

Her fingers found their way to Y/n’s wet folds, the slick smeared as she ran her fingers through them, only pulling away from her jaw to look at the expressions that Y/n made. The fingers ran through the sensitive and swollen lips, gathering the slick, coming down to circle her leaking hole and greedily taking more to create a bigger mess because Jimin enjoyed making her a mess. All the while Y/n let out faint shaky breaths through her lips, hands gripping harder onto Jimin’s shoulders, hips trying to push into her fingers as she circled her swollen clit, slowly playing with the bud that was so sensitive.

“You sound so pretty for me,” she mumbled, eyes set on Y/n’s face whose eyebrows furrowed and a gasp fell from her plump lips at the speed that increased on her clit. Jimin hummed, the smile not leaving her lips as she ran her fingers down once again, this time two slowly pushed inside the greedily clenching hole. She slipped into the wet tightness of Y/n’s pussy, the girl feeling the slow stretch that was getting closer to satisfying, but she still needed more.

Her hips moved against the fingers that were knuckles deep inside her, looking for friction on her clit from the pad of Jimin’s palm. A whimper fell from her lips, this time louder than last time when the doctor gave in to the need and pressed her palm against the clit while curling her fingers. That spot that made Y/n squirm was right under her control because she had learned her girlfriend's body to every inch.

“Are you going to fuck yourself on my fingers? Such a desperate whore that she fucks herself on my hand. Thought you wanted cock to fill your cunt.” She chuckled as Y/n leaned forward, her lips by Jimin’s ear, her hips still moving against the fingers that slowly scissored inside her to stretch her out.

“I do–I want your cock to fill me.” She breathed out, her words humid against the woman’s ear who left a kiss on her jaw. Jimin could wait, but only so long, and hearing how needy Y/n’s whiny voice was she wasn’t going to wait longer to bury her cock inside the girl. They were playing with time in the end as they could get paged any second.

There was a loss of contact when the fingers that were deep inside her throbbing pussy pulled out. Y/n pulled back, a docile look in her eyes to plead even more while watching Jimin take the slick-covered fingers between her lips and suck them right in. The taste lingered on her tongue as she licked her fingers clean off of Y/n’s wetness that she loved. Her hand rubbed Y/n’s waist as she did so.

“Be a good whore and get naked for me, doll.” Her tone was calm yet demanding and Y/n wasn’t one to disobey the older one. She got off of Jimin’s lap and the older watched the girl strip out of her bottoms, her hand running along her length through her boxer briefs. Her cock was throbbing under her palm and her breathing got deeper as she squeezed her length at the sight of Y/n fully naked now.

With a rushed and harsh grip, she manhandled the girl’s lithe and light figure that she liked the best when she was dressed in her birthday suit. It made Y/n quietly whine at the rough yet arousing treatment as she was pushed onto her knees, forearms resting against the mattress as Jimin got behind her.

“Such a pretty face and pussy.” The doctor grumbled as she pushed down her boxers and freed her throbbing cock, the pinkish tip leaked with precum, waiting to release everything into the confines of Y/n’s pink pussy.

The vixen waited in anticipation, her back arched with hands running over her ass, hips and over her spine before going over her waist. The touch was soothing, making her melt at how good it felt to even have Jimin’s skilful hands run over her body. She could make the harshest treatment feel gentle and steady with her hands.

She gripped onto Y/n’s hip, her other hand grabbing at her base and she guided her tip through the wet folds. The feeling made them both shudder as she coated her member in the juices that were leaking, spilling down Y/n’s thighs. As it glistened from the slickness she brought her tip to the girl’s entrance.

“Can I enter you, doll?” Y/n could die right in her spot because Jimin always made sure to ask.

“Yes…” The girl breathed out, feeling the big tip right by her hole and it made her head drop to the pillow when it at last protruded and slowly sank into her, splitting her folds and slowly buried itself deep inside her.

Jimin gripped harder onto Y/n’s waist at the tightness around her cock that sucked her in. Her other hand gently pushed down against the arched back as she tilted her head back and dwelled in the feeling with her lower lip between her teeth.

“You feel so good, your pussy feels so good around my cock.” She mumbled, her chest heaving as she stalled her hips once she was filling her girlfriend to the hilt.

Y/n twisted the sheets in her fists at the stretch and feeling stuffed, she could feel Jimin’s cock everywhere, feeling it all because she was raw inside her. The way the vein throbbed and how hard she was. It was overwhelming the slight pain from how good it felt.

Jimin exhaled sharply through her nose, needing time to get ready herself once she entered Y/n’s cunt to not explode right away from the snugness. She ran her palm along Y/n’s spine until she reached her shoulder and gripped it, holding onto it and her waist before she slowly dragged her hips back.

“I’m going to fuck you good, my needy whore deserves it.” She mumbled under her breath more to herself but Y/n still heard it clearly, eyes still closed and her head leaned back as she almost pulled out fully.

Y/n gasped, writhing under Jimin’s hold when her hips slammed right back inside her, the grip tight on her skin as it was hard enough to leave its marks behind. “Oh, my—fuck.” Y/n choked out as Jimin felt like she had given enough time for both of them to get all ready and her hips started to move, starting slow before she gradually increased the speed of her moving hips.

The cock dragged along Y/n’s squelching walls, hitting the perfect spots as Jimin angled herself perfectly. The slapping of her pelvis against Y/n’s ass grew in the room, each thrust followed by Y/n’s whines, pleas, cries, and whimpering moans, creating the mess she loved to make the intern. Her cock slid effortlessly in and out, going deep and hard, picking up her pace only to slow down with her eyes trained on the way Y/n’s body arched and pushed into her with her vision going blank now and then from the way her eyes would close at the feeling.

The wet slapping bounced off the walls, Jimin completely getting lost and not being able to think about if anything could be heard outside the door and neither did she stop Y/n’s squeals when she drilled deep into her. The slapping grew harder and louder, tainting their skin slightly in the process.

It was burning Y/n’s body, her body moved with each thrust as Jimin went deep and slow before going fast, it was making her mind go blank. The bed squeaked–the on-call rooms used as hook-up rooms for everyone–Y/n was letting out squeaks herself at the pleasure that shot through her with slight pain. It was too much but she didn’t want any less or any more because too much was perfect.

Jimin clenched her jaw, her body getting covered in heat, a sheen of sweat draping over her skin as she huffed through her nose, guttural groans falling from her now and then. Her eyes fell between their conjoined heat, watching the way her cock appeared and disappeared inside the glistening pussy, coming out covered in slick and getting slammed back inside, making Y/n move forward from the force.

“Ah, fuck–” Y/n cried out at a particularly hard thrust making Jimin slow down to not hurt the girl as she knew that she got lost in the pleasure easily when it came to Y/n.

“You’re taking me so well, my little doll to fuck and have squirm under me.” Her hand soothed along Y/n’s waist as her hips rolled deep and slow now. She ran her hand right under and found her way to Y/n’s slim stomach. Jimin pressed down on the girl’s lower belly as she pulled out and slammed right back inside. She could explode just from the way the gesture made Y/n arch her back and let out another high-pitched moan.

The cock kept hitting at her g-spot, feeling Jimin much deeper, knowing exactly where she was because of the hand that pressed against her stomach. The pleasure became tenfold and she was slowly reaching her peak as her ears were muffling everything and she was losing all her coherent thoughts. All she could think about was the cock that was drilling right into her cunt, the way it made her thighs quiver and her vocal cords release any sound they wanted with no control, the way her body was succumbing and losing all touch just for Jimin.

Jimin had other plans as she let go of Y/n’s shoulder and gripped the silky and long hair for leverage instead. Y/n whined at the pleasurable pain that forced her to arch even more and look up from the pillow where her cheek was pressed. There were tears in her eyes when Jimin finally got to look at the girl she got to look in the mirror that was hung up right above the desk in front of the bed's foot.

“Look at me when I fuck you–” It was a demand, not a question that harshly left through the doctor’s lips whose hips were snapping against Y/n. “Fuck I want my whore to look me in the eye, I want to look at your pretty eyes when you cum around my cock, doll face.” She groaned, Y/n obeying her as she watched how Jimin’s eyebrows furrowed, her face contorting into deep pleasure the second she got to look at Y/n’s face which portrayed how good she felt getting nailed into the bed. It boosted Jimin’s ego, letting her know how good she managed to make her girlfriend feel.

She wrapped her fist around the hair, getting more leverage, her stomach flexing and hand running from Y/n’s stomach to the girl’s swollen and throbbing clit. Her eyes trained on Y/n’s face whose eyes rolled and fluttered, the sounds spilling out of her lips. The walls tightly squeezed Jimin’s cock, making her groan at the feeling and in return thrust harder to get anywhere because of how tight the girl was getting the closer she was. Her walls clamped down on her cock with each thrust, hips meeting and getting louder.

“Jimin–Jimin, I’m–” She couldn’t finish the words that were left in a desperate cry.

The heat in her stomach was tingling with the need to be released, snapping out sooner than later as Y/n’s body tensed up. Her vision went black, ears muffled, barely being able to hear how the train of light and whiny moans escaped her lips. The sight of Y/n coming around her, her pussy spasming around her cock, throbbing around it, her eyes rolling, back arching, it all made Jimin fall right off the peak when she reached it. Her breathing grew harsh as it all came over her too.

Y/n felt the tears run down her cheeks, whimpering at the feeling of Jimin’s cock growing harder before the creamy warm cum spilled and painted her walls. She felt each rope shoot right into her cunt, her hearing slowly coming back and being able to hear how Jimin let out light moans with her hips stuttering into Y/n to fill her the best she could, wanting every drop inside the snug pussy. Occasionally tugging on her hair as her body convulsed at the orgasm.

“Fuck, you took it all so well, baby.” She breathed out, her grip loosening on Y/n’s hair, their chests heaving to catch their breaths as a moment of silence fell upon them. Jimin swallowed down the thickness in her throat, blinking her eyes open, slowly pulling out, making Y/n let out a light sigh.

The older helped the girl lay down, treating her like a fragile porcelain doll. With her dick still wet she tucked it back inside her boxers, pulling up the scrubs that were resting around her thighs. She got pulled down right after and managed to fit herself by Y/n’s petite frame on the twin-sized bed.

“Are you alright?” She asked to make sure, her arm wrapping itself around Y/n’s shoulders who hugged at the woman’s waist. Jimin grabbed hold of Y/n’s thigh, pulling it to drape over her torso to have her closer. The doctor twisted and reached behind her with her free hand, pulling out the fuzzy teddy bear with the rose that was under her.

“Yeah.” Y/n mumbled, trying to gather herself as her breathing was still heavy, Jimin’s fingers gently running through her hair this time. Her eyes watched as Jimin held the bear, making it sit on her stomach and face them with her fingers fiddling with the fur.

“Did you know that sex is healthy for the heart? It can bring down the chances of a heart attack by 50%.” Y/n chuckled at the words, burying her face into the crook of the woman’s warm neck who breathed out a chuckle at her own words.

“I love you,” Jimin spoke, craning her neck and leaning down to peck the top of Y/n’s head. It made the girl pull away and looked up at the older woman. She hummed and pushed herself up, still feeling Jimin everywhere and on her lips once again when she leaned down for a slow kiss.

“I love you,” she pulled away for a second as they looked each other in the eye and she pecked the woman’s lips once again before pulling away fully. “This was probably the most romantic Valentine’s Day so far.” Y/n admitted. It was so different yet in a way that was special because so much had happened.

Jimin raised her eyebrows as she pushed herself up to rest against her elbows as she looked at Y/n who reached for her clothes because they still could get paged. “Really?” She questioned, gently bouncing the teddy bear against the mattress from how the words made her feel less worried that it wasn’t enough. It made her feel giddy to know that she succeeded in the end. She watched Y/n put on the scrubs before she sat back on the bed, facing Jimin with her fingers dancing over the doctor's bare stomach, trailing gentle patterns.

“Yeah, I got to operate on a heart with my girlfriend, and we no longer have to pretend to be just coworkers.” Y/n said as her fingers ran up to where Jimin’s heart was, circling the area as she could feel the way it was pounding against her ribcage. It made Jimin grin even more and Y/n leaned back in to kiss her heart doctor.

Maybe Valentine’s Day hadn’t gone bad at all even if they couldn’t go on a date or do something together outside the hospital. Somehow everything they had done today was romantic in its way and there was no need for grand gestures.

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