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shaisuki · 1 month ago

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𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝗢𝗙 𝗚𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗦 ━━━━━━ 黎深

— it wasn't your place to dictate what his heart wants but sometimes you wished his affections were directed to you — just once. was it difficult to spare you crumbs of affection or when Zayne noticed how you start to pull away from him and it was too late for him to realize how damaged the relationship was you desperately trying to build and you got tired of wanting him. can he still get you back? or must he turn to drastic measures?

notes. requested by @itsmearia01 . to be continued in part two

content warnings. angst + unrequited love + arranged marriage + emotional neglect + emotional cheating + non mc reader + insecurities + doubts + lack of affection + slow burn + drinking + clubbing.

READ PART TWO HERE.

It is said the most successful of marriages comes from respect and it shall evolve to mutual understanding for the parties involved.

That's what you thought to yourself when you come of age that you were informed of a arranged marriage to your childhood friend, Zayne.

It had come to that arrangement for Zayne's parents have saved your mother from the complications of birth just to have you and upon your birth comes the arrangement that their child and you shall be brought to union later in life. It was a fine match indeed. That's what your parents and Zayne's agreed.

Thus, it came hurting you later at life.

Zayne is respectful and never treated you different from others. Although he ignored you most of the time and feels like you didn't exist in his life. Well, who could blame him. It wasn't a match he chose for himself, it was his parents and yours. It was unfair that he didn't have much of a choice.

Blinded by your admiration for him — it didn't deter you how cold he was to you. Zayne's heart was made of ice and maybe you can melt it. You knew Zayne was a softie after all. Cold and stoic he may come, he did care. He likes animals, children too that's why he's close to his patients. He's also fond of sweets! That's why you pack him extra sweets and learned to make macarons, his favorites.

That's why it never bothered you when he treats you like air. At least he knows he have a fiancee. That's what you say to yourself. Convincing that one day, Zayne will look at you in your eyes.

It was far fetched dream though but you could dream. Looking positive.

Not until she came in the picture and oh, how you wished you were her. What efforts that you poured just for him to say a word about you takes her for only a second. Zayne looks at her eyes. Zayne compliments her and he always noticed her first.

You did try but all it takes for her was to come and melt the frozen heart of Zayne. His heart wasn't totally frozen, it was incapable of being thawed when it comes to you. He's sweet on her and that's when you realize — you lost the battle, a long time ago.

He was with you but he's mind was with thoughts of her. You knew he wasn't going to pursue cardiology if it wasn't for her. She's sick. A heart syndrome but Zayne spent his studies understanding the human heart and the Protocore Syndrome. It was all for her. His achievements was for her.

How could you also compete? Zayne fondly mentioned her that she's a deepspace hunter and possesses a rare type of Evol — Anhaunsen Class: Resonance. Amazing! Good with kids, cheerful, and she's pretty with her pale skin, long straight dark brown hair and she's thin too. You were not.

You can't even get the same response as Zayne would have spoken to her. He deeply cares for her. Why wouldn't he be? Zayne even took as being her primary care physician.

It doesn't matter though, you still support him for you were going to be his wife and he as your husband. If he doesn't want that, he should have called off the engagement a long time ago.

And as soon-to-be-his wife, you can endure it. That's how a marriage should work when another one endures for the comfort of the other.

It doesn't matter when he prioritize her. She's sick, what could be your reason. He's her physician.

It didn't hurt when he forget to eat the lunch that you prepared for him. He's a doctor, he's busy with operations even you later learned that they had lunch together.

It didn't hurt you when he gave you a plushie knowing that it was a duplicate and she owned one too.

It didn't hurt when he's uninterested to you, he could be obvious about it but he didn't.

It simply didn't hurt cause you were used to it and then one day, you stopped caring. You didn't even have the strength to cry and if you did, you'd be joining Heartbreaker crying near the trash bins.

The clock read one pm. It's lunch time for Zayne and he didn't have the time to grab food in the cafeteria when it's only thirty minutes away for the next scheduled operation and he remembers you always brought him lunch. It's usually placed in his desk. Wrapped in pastel blue square cloth, dotted with snowflakes and a snowman in the middle but there was nothing. Yvonne hasn't informed him earlier of your presence so maybe you forgot it.

Checking his phone, there wasn't a message too. He ignored it. He presses his phone off and decided he will just grab a bite later.

At first, it didn't bother him.

How your messages were a rare occurrence nowadays. A casual — how's your day? Or a simple good morning. Usually when he wakes up it's the influx of messages coming from you. Texting him what he wanted for dinner or what how's he feeling for the day or the simple cat video that you know he likes. Now, he's staring at the screen. The last message were a week ago.

Then, how you don't speak anymore with mirth.

The café was nice. She recommended it. The atmosphere was cool and he doesn't hear your voice anymore. Quietly sitting while sipping your drink — your gaze fixated on a distance. You casually hum and that's the end.

“Is something bothering you?”

Wow. A full question. That's a first.

The ice in your drink clinks as put it in the table. Absentmindedly stirring the cold liquid with a straw. “It's nothing of concern.” Your gaze focused on the table. It wasn't wiped properly. You barely glanced at him.

“I won't push you to say something but I'm here to listen to you.” How assuring. Zayne notices how you didn't much respond. Casting a side eye glance, your eyebrows raising a bit and your lips pressed in a thin line.

He was about to say something when his phone rings. “Go on.” You weakly drawled. He swipes the phone to the left declining the call. “It's my day off. I shouldn't be bothered with work.”

A humorless chuckle left your mouth before you can stop it. Work. It's her. “I'm sorry, you don't reject calls like that, Zayne. Don't let me hinder your work.”

“No, my day offs are reserved for you.” He said with a small smile.

It was more like a obligation than willingness. He doesn't enjoy being with you. He rather prefers being with her.

“If you say so.” You finished your drink. Grabbing your shoulder bag, you stand up. “I shall not occupy much of your time. I'll be going.” Ignoring his comment, you pushed your chair.

“(Y/N), did I do something to upset you?”

You shaked your head in dismissal. “You didn't do anything to upset me. I have urgent matters to attend to, have a good day.”

“Do you want something for tonight.” He attempts again to offer you. Something to ease your mind.

“Don't bother.” Is what you said before leaving.

Later that evening, the doorbell rang. You were finishing the last touches of your makeup and you pat your brush down before putting the final touches of your makeup.

Opening the door, you were greeted by Zayne and usually, you've gone ecstatic. Always eager with him being in the room and you can only look at him indifferently.

“Zayne, I didn't know you were coming.” Opening the door wider to let him in. He took his coat and puts it in the rack. You noticed he was holding multiple plastic bags containing the contents of your grocery list. You ignored it.

The cardiologist followed you with his gaze. Noticing your all dolled up appearance. Your tube denim dress layered with a white shirt. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Yeah. Clubbing with a few girlfriends.” Your voice clipped and you went back to your room to grab your bag.

“You don't like nightclubs.” He casually commented. Putting the groceries in their rightful places in the cupboard.

“I don't but it's a nice change. You know, you didn't have to stay here. You can go if you want.” Tapping the heel of your platform boots in the floor.

“It's fine. Do you want me to drive you there?” Zayne offerers. Loosening his tie.

“No.” You shortly replied and slammed the door.

It was a weekend. The club was packed with sweaty bodies crowding in the middle of the dance floor. The neon lights bouncing at the rhythm of the loud music. This wasn't your scene and yet, he sees you happily dancing with a friend. Laughing under the lights when your friend whispered.

Zayne have followed you. Concerned of your well-being.

It feels different and Zayne wasn't used to seeing you like this. Unexpected for someone who acts so proper and prim. He knows that everyone have pleasures but this was different.

He watches you drink. Downing a glass, shots after shots. Drinking the burning liquid like it was water. Zayne's brow furrowed, lips pressed in a thin line. He approaches you.

The brightly colored glass looks tiny in your fingers. You admired the liquid sloshing as you tip it back and forth before bringing it to your lips but before you can drink it. A voice popped besides you.

“That's enough.” His tone firm, grabbing the shot glass from you and putting it on the table. You blink lazily, your movements light and your mouth looser. “Who do you think you are to say that it's enough?” It wasn't a question. You tried to grab the drink again but Zayne holds your wrist.

“You're drunk.”

“I'm not.”

“That's what people say when they're drunk.”

Zayne pulls you away from your table. Picking your handbag on the way as he excused you from your friends. You didn't even struggled when he dragged you away from them.

His black Audi A6 is parked and he opens the door to put you in the passenger seat before turning around to sit in the driver's seat. He rolled down the windows in your side. Zayne pulls the seatbelt, making sure you're properly strapped in your seat before doing his.

There's a purr coming from the car after he starts the engine. You remained silent. Eyes glossy and your lips curled. Silently staring at the city lights. You glanced at him and you never felt so resigned at a person. Is this how people felt when they got tired of chasing the person who remains so distant from them — cause if it is — you were done.

Zayne stole a glance at you. Your head propped in the window of his car. He can see the city lights twinkling in the reflection of your eyes. You were in no doubt at the edge of drunkenness. Has he not interfered you were probably wasted with a major hangover. He continued driving. His eyes on the road, his hands on the steering wheel.

The vehicle stopped in front of the building where your loft is located and you didn't bother to wait for him to open the door. Yanking your seatbelt and letting it slide to its place, you popped the door open and slipped. Walking towards the entrance in small wobbly steps.

Zayne followed you behind. Keeping up with your pace. “Careful.” He steadies you up when you almost tripped. His expression remained neutral even you recoiled from his touch.

You messily swiped your card before punching the numbers before stumbling inside. Your shoes felt incredibly tight. Your fingers fumbling over the laces. Zayne kneels in front of you. Easily undoing the laces of your boots before pulling the zippers down in the side. He holds your ankle before tugging your boots. He did the other part.

You stare at the man in front of you. Zayne was like a snowflake in your palm — melting. Slipping from your fingers and only to be returned to something new. Different but the same. Sucks he's not that in form to be with you.

“You should rest now. You don't want a hangover in the morning.”

“I told you, I'm not drunk.”

“Then can you tell me what I did something to upset you?”

“For being a party pooper.”

“It's not like you to act that way. Your well-being is my concern.”

“Come on, don't give me the doctor crap.”

“I'm your fiance. I should look after you. You're my priority.”

Priority. Hah.

A hollow laughed escaped your lips. Giggling as you stand up and finding your footing. You stumbled in the living room. Your shoulders shaking in laughter. It must be the alcohol.

Zayne looks at you — confused.

“I'm not your priority, Zayne. I'm an obligation. Something you keep cause it is needed and we both know it.” You look at him in his eyes and your heart breaks a little.

You exhaled before letting out a shaky gasp. Tears brimming at the corner of your eyes. You hated being weak. You hated being hurt.

“You started being concerned when I stopped bothering you.” Then the spiel of you being ignored. Of being hurt began to unveil.

“Don't you ever talked about me being your priority? I'm your priority? Is that so? Cause the last time I checked — ” You brought your finger to your lips, the habit you do when you're thinking before looking at him. “I wasn't for the last time - No, wait. I wasn't for the last years. No, no, no. I wasn't in your whole life.”

A tear slipped out and you furiously wiped it away in frustration. Mad at yourself for trying, for being such a fool.

“You are drunk and you must rest now.” Zayne went to approach you but you slapped his hand away.

“I'm sober as I can be and don't you dare ask me again why I'm upset. I'm upset all of the things. I'm so sick of trying! Of trying to chase after your affections.!”

“You should have said in the first place that you didn't want to do anything with me rather than ignore and act like it's your obligation to be with me! I can understand it! I'm not so dumb, Zayne!”

The words rings in the space of the room. Zayne remains impassive. His green eyes staring right back at you and you felt pathetic. A outburst is all you needed for him to look at you.

Blinking back the tears, your fists clenched on the side. You have lost your words. One must act a fool to be noticed. You lost the strength to speak one more word. The rush of blood pumping in your veins felt like drops.

A beat of silence passed. His jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed at you.

“(Y/N), I—”

“I'm glad you still remember my name.” You said dismissively before running back to your room and slamming the door shut.

#♱ ⋮ shai's works⸝⸝#chubby reader #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #lads x chubby reader #lads x reader #lads zayne #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #zayne x non mc #zayne x chubby reader #lnds #lnds x reader #love and deepspace x chubby reader #non mc #non mc reader

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cynosdaydream · 4 days ago

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LOSER'S GAMBIT!

Why should you feel selfish when you have the right to ask -- no, demand for more?

Now playing: a girl like me - flowerovlove

↺͏͏ ° < ll >> ⋮≡

Word Count: 3.1k Author's Note: There WILL be a part 2! Stay tuned. and for my omega beta reader, @noxellaa Part 1 (you are here) / Part 2 Desc: zayne x f!reader, mentions of zayne x mc, sylus cameo!, mentions of sylus x reader, hurt/ eventual comfort, reader feeling neglected by zayne, zayne lowkey a little horrible..

Another late night, another plate of food gone cold. You sighed as you dumped yet another meal into the bin, knowing that your boyfriend wouldn’t be eating it when he came home. After all, he had been working an insane amount of overtime recently, and would often spend the night at the hospital. Something about MC’s heart condition acting up, and from what you knew, it was pretty serious. As much as your heart twisted in inexplicable jealousy, you bit your tongue and swallowed it all down like a bitter poison. She had a bloody protocore fused to her heart, for Astra’s sake.

You were putting away the plates when suddenly, your phone lit up. Zayne. “I won’t be coming home tonight. MC isn’t doing too well.” The message read. Short and simple, as straightforward as he usually was. However, these words still managed to pierce through your heart, leaving frosty icicles in their wake. It felt like he was never home. And on the days he actually was, you would only manage to exchange a few words with him before he ate and went to bed. And whenever he was at the hospital, high chances he would be spotted with MC. You had tried to ignore the occasional whispers from some staff commenting on how cute Zayne and MC looked together, but it would secretly hurt your feelings deep down, no matter how deep you buried these comments in the back of your mind. You knew Zayne loved you, and you knew he loved you dearly, but you couldn’t help the way your gaze drifted enviously to images of him and MC together, no matter if it was recent or if it were photos from their childhood.

It’s selfish for me to think this way. Anyways, MC has been his friend since he was a kid, I’m being irrational. You knew that dating one of the best doctors in Linkon wouldn’t always be sunshine and rainbows. Zayne wasn’t just any doctor, he was quite literally THE doctor – entered medical school at 15, and graduated with his certification for cardiology about half a decade later. You knew that someone with his skills and proficiency would be busy almost 24/7, but you couldn’t help but feel a little neglected. You were his girlfriend after all, shouldn’t he be paying some attention to you too? You had fallen for the way he was a quiet lover, how he would notice the smallest things about you – your unconscious habits, which foods you liked, which foods you disliked, your hobbies and interests. The way he would sit with you to eat lunch when you were admitted to the hospital, even though he had just finished a gruelling and tiring surgery. The way he would drop a few sweets into your hands before you left his office. “If you feel fatigued throughout the day, a small amount of sugar can help with spiking your blood glucose levels for a short period of time.”

The following few days merged together into a blur of time. Your routine was the same: Wake up to an empty bed, go to work, come back, and go to sleep alone. You tried to visit the hospital a few times, even waking up earlier to prepare a lunch box for Zayne, planning to deliver it around lunch. One of the days, you were successful in giving him the meal, but you only saw him for a fleeting moment when he thanked you with a kiss on the cheek and hurried off to Astra knows where. The kiss made your heart flutter, but you didn’t have time to say or do anything else before his back was already turned to you. You tried to chase after him, but stopped in your tracks after he turned the corner, only to be greeted by MC linking arms with him and skipping down the hallway while dragging him along. Sigh. Whatever, it’s nothing. You thought.

Feeling defeated, you decided to go to one of the more secluded areas of the hospital grounds to eat your lunch. Nevertheless, your spirits were lifted after a stray cat came near where you were seated and purred affectionately. How cute!

Your phone displays ‘2.09am’ when you finally hear the front door open with a creak, and leather shoes hitting the ground. “Zayne.” You called out gently, as if he was going to slip through your fingers if your voice was too stern. That was certainly what it felt like. “Yes, my love?” He responded, hanging his jacket by the door. The words felt like they were stuck in your throat before you spoke. “We need to talk.”

It didn’t go as bad as you expected. You had been prepared for a full-blown argument, coupled with furious accusation and blames, maybe one or two tears, but none of that happened. You conveyed your feelings clearly – you told Zayne that you felt slightly neglected, and that you would like him to spend more time with you when he wasn’t caught up in work. He acknowledged your frustration. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I was making you feel like that. I’ll try my best to clear my schedule.” He said. “Speaking about spending time with you, your birthday is coming up soon, correct? I promise I’ll have dinner with you that day, okay?” Zayne holds out his pinky to you, and you wrap your pinky around his with a gleeful smile. You could feel your heart rate picking up at the tender contact before you spoke. “Thank you, Zayne.”

You were glad you spoke to him that day. You had managed to clear up how you felt, and you felt relieved. “I’m glad I chose such an understanding man to love.” You sighed longingly.

The following few days, you ardently anticipated your birthday, excited to finally get some time alone with your boyfriend. You had gotten your most precious outfit washed, dried and ironed. It was in your favourite colour, and your favourite style. However, the material was expensive, so you only wore it on special occasions, afraid the fabric might get snagged on something or acquire a stain. You spent the first half of the day hanging out with your friends from your job, going around Linkon, window shopping and just having a blast overall. And you may or may not have splurged on a few accessories to go with your outfit… you cursed your friends for being enablers as you looked at the charges on your card. Of course, it wasn’t that bad, as it was only a few accessories, but you felt like an over-consumer with the way you would only be wearing them for tonight and probably never after your birthday due to your job as a hunter. “You could always donate them to me, you know!” Tara exclaimed as you rolled your eyes and shoved her teasingly. “Don’t be ridiculous, Tara.” Simone said. But those few hundred dollars missing from your bank account was all worth it in the end! (totally…)

In your home, you were styling yourself just a few hours before your scheduled dinner, with Tara and Simone by your side as your self-proclaimed ‘advisors’. “Ooh, that pin would go great with your shoes!” Tara chattered. She was energetically bobbing all over the place, rummaging through the accessories that you had bought. Simone, on the other hand, was quieter, and nodded or shook her head based on how much she agreed with Tara’s suggestions. By 5p.m, your friends were swooning over your look, showering you with compliments. “You look so good! I’m head over heels.” Tara dramatically said, placing a hand over her heart and sighing dreamily. Simone laughed. “Agreed. You do look stunning, birthday girl.” She said with a smile. You smiled back at the both of them, and once they hung out at your house for a little longer, they scurried off, not wanting to disturb your final preparations for the date – not before giving you the presents they had prepared for you. Tara, a life-sized plushie of your favourite animal, and Simone, a special cloth to clean your hunter weapon with.

With a pep in your step, you headed to the restaurant that Zayne had booked for the both of you. He hadn’t reached yet, but you were 15 minutes early, so it was fine. You shot him a quick text to let him know that you were here already. It took a few minutes, but your message eventually had a ‘read’ sign at the bottom, and the three dots that indicated Zayne was typing appeared not long after. Alright. Be there soon. Short and concise, as usual.

You occupied yourself by reading the menu and ordering some appetisers that both you and your boyfriend would like. You were delighted to see some of your favourite foods on the menu. How sweet of Zayne to pick a place with all the foods I like to eat. You thought.

5 minutes passed, and another 5, and another 5. And before you knew it, half an hour had passed. Now, you weren’t the one that was 15 minutes early – Zayne was the one that was 15 minutes late. Trying to pay it no mind, you brushed it off as him finishing up some final documents or just being stuck in a traffic jam on the way to the restaurant. But after another 30 minutes, you couldn’t ignore it anymore. Usually, he would send you a text if he was going to be late, no? You tried to text him, but was met with no response. Not even a ‘read’, or a simple 2 or 3 worded answer. Maybe his notifications were just silent? Frustrated at the pitiful stares you were getting from staff and customers alike, you huffed and decided to just scroll social media instead. That’s when you saw it.

A post from MC, just 5 minutes ago. In the photo, she was in Zayne’s office, happily taking a selfie with him, holding up a peace sign, while a small grin could be seen on his face. The photo had been edited, with a few stickers around both their faces and their surroundings. It was captioned, “The best doctor in Linkon! Thanks for working overtime for me~”

At first, the post itself pissed you off – you were sitting here in a restaurant alone and getting pitied by onlookers, with the food getting cold on your table,and your boyfriend had the gall to be with another woman? On your birthday, no less. Then, you looked harder, closer at the image. And then you felt downright furious. In the photo, Zayne’s phone could be spotted on his desk, lighting up with notifications from your messages. You gripped your phone harder, feeling the buttons dig into your skin. Overcome by fury and gloom, you couldn’t stop the stray tears that managed to escape your eyes. I shouldn’t be feeling like this. Trying to reason with yourself, you tried to convince yourself that MC needed that extra care, and that it was just a small matter. But was it really? You had every right to feel angry. Your own boyfriend stood you up! On your birthday! You bit your lip, trying to muffle any sobs that were threatening to spill over your lips.

“Hello there, looks like you’re all alone. May I sit with you?” A silken smooth voice calls from above your lowered head. You look up to see a silver haired man with blood red eyes, dressed to the nines. A black leather jacket embroidered with red details, and matching black pants that made his legs look impossibly long. Wanting to save yourself from looking pitiful any longer, you quickly nodded and lowered your head again, not wanting him to see you in this state. You can feel his stare bore into your head, and he hesitantly speaks. “It’s okay, no need to hide your tears. What happened here? It’s impossible that a beauty like you was stood up.”

The stranger’s comment only fueled the tears in your eyes as you looked up at him. “How did you manage to guess exactly what happened? You’re observant.” You said with a humourless laugh. His gaze softened. “It wasn’t hard to guess. I’ve seen that look many times before.” You were reluctant to speak any more, and instead put your phone, which was still displaying MC’s post, down on the table with a bit more force than necessary. The stranger curiously glances at it, but his eyes quickly dart away from the phone. “I understand if you don’t want to talk about it. By the way, I never got your name.” He says.

“___” You reply curtly, now looking him straight in the eyes, trying to rub the tears from yours. “A beautiful name for a beautiful person.” The stranger replies without missing a beat. That got a genuine chuckle out of you, and you found yourself asking for his name as well. Sylus, he told you. What a nice name. Suits him. You thought to yourself. That brought you to the question of – what made him sit with you anyway? From what you could tell, there were still a few vacant tables in the establishment. Maybe you just looked so pitiful he felt compelled to sit with you. “You know, you have a really nice laugh. You shouldn’t let someone’s careless actions dampen your mood.” Sylus comments suddenly. You smile genuinely at him, and thanked him for the compliment.

The both of you talk for a little while, and you felt like conversation just flowed so easily with him, even though he was a stranger. You also eat the food that you had ordered beforehand, before you finally called it a day and called for the bill. But when it arrived, he snatched it from your hands in the politest way you could snatch something, and placed his card face down onto it. Surprised, you tried to replace it with your own card, but you were stopped by him. “Don’t worry, it’s on me this time. I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.” He says, grinning. “This time? So there’s going to be more of these meetings?” You tease. He chuckles before answering immediately, “Maybe. Who knows?”

It felt like the weight of the world was lifted off your shoulders after that meeting with Sylus. After exchanging contact information, he offered to drop you off at your house, but you politely declined, insisting that you could get home by yourself. He nodded, and drove off in that motorcycle of his. How cool. Your spirit was no longer dampened by being stood up as you walked into your shared home with Zayne, flopping down onto the couch. Although it was far from the ideal birthday, you were glad you got to spend valuable time with your dearest friends, and even potentially have made a new one. You took a quick shower before tucking yourself under the covers, watching whatever you wanted before bed. After a few minutes, the fatigue from spending most of the day outside caught up to you, and your eyes quickly closed shut as soon as you plugged in your phone and rolled on your side.

However, your beauty sleep was short-lived. You were abruptly awoken by the opening of the front door and hurried footsteps inside the house. Irritated, you checked your phone. 11:39pm. Okay, it wasn’t an ungodly hour, but you were still irked at being so suddenly awoken. When your bedroom door opens, you are greeted by your boyfriend (did you even want to call him that anymore?) standing in the doorway, breathing unevenly and his tie half-loosened. “Well, are you going to come in?” You asked sarcastically.

When his ragged breathing evened out, he started his apology speech. “I’m so sorry about forgetting our appointment, I truly am. I- MC just needed me at that moment, I couldn’t just-” Zayne stuttered out, his usually composed demeanor slowly crumbling to dirt. You let him ramble about MC’s needs being urgent and how your date just slipped his mind before cutting him off. “Zayne, I can see that you’re apologetic. But you clearly can’t make enough time for me, which is apparent from today, and the numerous other times you’ve cancelled on me at the last minute or just stood me up completely.” You begin. As if he could sense what was coming next, Zayne hurriedly scrambled for something to say.

“Zayne, I think we should break up.” You continued, not letting him get a single word in.

He seemed to understand that you wanted to speak, and he slowly backed off. “This isn’t the first time I’ve felt neglected by you, Zayne. I’ve tried to communicate this to you multiple times, and it felt like this time, something would finally change. I thought that we would finally be able to spend a nice dinner together without you having to leave halfway or being diabolically late.” Pausing to try to articulate your words, you went on, “I understand that MC’s condition is fragile, and that you are her personal doctor. But…” This felt incredibly selfish to say, but if you didn’t tell Zayne, it would linger on your mind forever. “...I can’t help but feel a little envious of the way the both of you interact. Your interactions with her seem so much more natural, and you get to spend more time with her on a regular basis. It’s…bad for my heart, to put it simply.” You laughed, feeling the slightest bit stupid. It seemed so trivial, now that you spoke about it.

“You know I love you…” Zayne said, his voice trailing off. “I know you do, Zayne. But these words don’t mean a whole lot when your actions keep contradicting them. I know you love me, but…I don’t think it's the best course of action for us to remain together. Look at you, all dishevelled, Zayne. I hate to see you like this.” You tell him softly, eyes scanning over his distraught expression. His face seems to fall as he just accepts the reality of it all. He nods slowly, like he was in disbelief. “I… I respect your decision, ___. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight, then. Good night.”

“Good night, Zayne.”

(Part 2 is out!)

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kazumist · 1 month ago

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SWEETLY BAKED WITH LOVE .ᐟ

✩ — in which zayne finds himself in a problem with his older patients relentlessly introducing and telling him about their daughters and granddaughters to him because he's single. what's a good way to shoo them off? perhaps wearing a keyring and fake dating your friend would do the trick!

✩ — includes: zayne x f!baker!reader. fluff. fake dating trope (not executed properly sorry i dont think i gave it justice), not much drama and confession scene is a bit boring imo :/, pace is a bit messy, based of that one part in the cdrama "the best thing", cw: food mentioned (baked sweets and wine), they're both idiots in love, wc: 7,166. i went insane Yes so what.

✩ — note: hi babes @koiukiy-o it's finally finished like can u believe it. i finished it in one fucking day initially but i woke up at 6am in the morning today (its around half past 7am by the time posting this) and added a bit more.

for zayne, being a young, famous, and favored doctor in akso hospital isn’t as pleasing as it sounds. only because the majority of his older patients try to match him up with their daughters with every given chance during their appointments scheduled with him.

at first, it wasn’t all that serious. zayne even initially thought that maybe elderlies these days have started to grow accustomed to sharing stories of their children—of their daughters, specifically, who are coincidentally in the same age range as him. perhaps it was a new thing; yeah, that was probably it.

until the introductions became more frequent.

ONE: AS SURPRISING AS A SUDDEN BLUEBERRY CHEESECAKE AT YOUR DOOR.

from a father whose daughter is a successful certified public accountant (CPA) to a mother whose daughter is currently a cardiology resident in a nearby hospital, the names and positions of these women have started to jumble in his head. all zayne could do is take a deep breath and smoothly deflect the questions of his patients regarding his current relationship status.

“dr. zayne, you know, i have this daughter..." here we go again. zayne tunes out whatever the old woman was saying, nodding every now and then to convince her that he was interested. the old woman’s daughter was something of a business owner, though it’s not like zayne is actually paying that much attention to the description his patient was giving him. his focus is solely on the results that are in his hands.

“do you have someone special in your life right now, dr. zayne?” zayne pauses; the shuffling of the lab reports in his hands stopped as he processed the question.

does he?

zayne doesn’t think that he does.

he has a few people that he cherishes in his life, yes. but does he think of himself settling down with someone by his side? well… not really—not yet, at least. zayne hasn’t given it that much thought himself. “before i answer that question, let’s discuss what your results have given us…” this method of zayne changing the subject works like a charm every time he does it. and with a blink of an eye, the old woman forgot her question and left after getting her new prescriptions from him.

zayne leans back on his chair, taking off his specs and pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment. he takes a deep breath, until his peace is interrupted by a knock at his door. the old woman should’ve been the last one; yvonne just came in and told him so not so long ago. he sits up right, fixing his posture as his professionalism starts to take over.

yet when the door creaks open to reveal you, zayne’s shoulders relax as he sits back once again.

maybe his peace wasn’t interrupted after all.

“what brings you here?” he asks you, eyeing you suspiciously as you’re obviously hiding something from him behind your back. “i come bearing gifts—one sweet little blueberry cheesecake from your favorite bakery! tadaaaa!” you say, revealing the little box to zayne and settling it on his desk, hoping he’d also envision the imaginary jazz hands you were doing before putting a plastic fork on top of it for him to use.

zayne has a sweet tooth and that’s practically common knowledge to you. and with you owning a bakery... well, let’s just say that the youngest heart surgeon in linkon city plays his favorites when it comes to shops that sell sweet pastries.

a smile cracks onto his face as he sees the box. gently removing the fork on top and opening the box, zayne inspects the blueberry cheesecake before him as if contemplating if he should eat it now or save it when he gets home. “you don’t have to eat it now, silly. i just wanted to drop it off before your work ends today,” you say.

“no, it’s alright. i’ll eat it now. the toppings could get ruined when i travel back home.”

as he starts taking a few bites, you propped your chin onto your palm and lean on it, staring at the sweet dessert that’s slowly being consumed right in front of you. “sooo, do you have someone in your life right now, dr. zayne?” you asked him, putting emphasis on the way you called him as a sign of mockery.

zayne deadpans at your question, suddenly stopping himself from getting another bite. his expression is clearly conveying a message to you wordlessly: are you being serious right now? but zayne just sighs and continues on getting another bite before replying. “how did you know about that?”

“i heard you two through the door. and when your last patient came out—she was a delight, by the way, greeting me so kindly—she suddenly asked me if i was your girlfriend! i obviously didn’t answer her properly and good thing yvonne came in to save the day and escort her out of the cardiology department.” you told him.

the sweetness of the small piece of blueberry glides across his senses as he listens to you. zayne finds himself sighing deeply for what seems like the nth today, twirling the fork in his hand as he thinks. he doesn’t like burdening this problem of his with you, especially when you have nothing to do with it. “seems like you’re thinking about a lot there. are your thoughts being consumed by the numerous names that got mentioned to you?” you teased.

“i beg your pardon?”

“i was only kidding! you looked so deep in thought there. is everything alright?”

zayne doesn’t know either. he doesn’t know how long he could keep deflecting and changing the topics when his patients try to pry into this part of his life. he has a soft spot for his patients, sure, and he’s satisfied with his job. though zayne didn’t know that he would be signing up for this when he became a cardiac surgeon.

“yes, my apologies. i seemed to have spaced out for a moment there.”

you glance over him, observing his mannerisms and his habits. whenever zayne twirls or plays with the item in his hand, it means he’s thinking. whenever he sits back on his chair, that means he’s relaxed. yet you never seen him space out—not until now, at least—and that’s what’s different.

odd.

but you didn’t push the topic further, as you’re well aware that zayne isn’t the type to express himself so freely. and as if a light bulb literally just gained it’s light inside your brain, the gears inside your head started turning as you suddenly got an idea. “i think i just got the greatest idea of my life.” you asked him.

“and what would that be?” he asks back. should i be scared? he thinks.

“you’ll see! just you wait and look forward to the next time i’ll drop by and visit.” you flash him a grin as zayne finishes the last bit of the blueberry cheesecake.

TWO: AS ENTICING AS SIX MACARONS SERVED RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.

the next time you saw each other, you didn’t visit zayne. zayne visited you, striding towards you sitting behind the counter. today was a saturday. and during saturdays, you open your shop a bit later than your usual opening time during weekdays.

seeing the doctor visit your shop sometimes gives you a pinch of nostalgia coursing through you. you never would’ve expected to form a connection with a praised doctor in linkon in your life. but you don’t really have any regrets about it. you enjoy the surgeon’s company and he seems to enjoy yours.

“and what brings you here today, dr. zayne?” you say, greeting him as his eyes scan the pastries displayed before him. “please, refrain from the formalities. do you have anything new to recommend?” he replies.

your gaze follows his as you join him in looking for a pastry to offer. “hmm… oh! i know! you could taste test a new macaron flavor i’ve been trying. would you mind taking a seat while i got get them for you?” zayne nods before finding himself a seat and you take that as your cue to start running towards the kitchen located at the inner part of your establishment.

when you got out, you joined him at the two-seater table he decided on, sitting across from him. “lately, i’ve been indulging myself in making macarons, right? and i wanted a different flavor for a change so i paired two ingredients together! take a bite and guess what it is.” you said, pushing the box of macarons towards him.

zayne inspects the macarons in front of him, attempting to deduce the flavor. it has a light brown color, with the filling having a deeper shade of brown. could it be two types of chocolate? he thinks.

“staring at it will get you nowhere if you don’t actually taste it, you know.”

he snaps out of his thoughts at your words. he awkwardly coughs into his fist, avoiding your gaze. you stifled a laugh at him but zayne noticed it, feeling his ears grow hot. “ahem. pardon me for that. i’ll taste them now.” he says, grabbing a piece of the pastry. as soon as he takes a bite, the familiar taste of coffee beans (perhaps roasted?) and nutella washes over his tongue.

you were right; this was a different flavor that you don’t see often. “it’s delicious. were the coffee beans roasted? or were they grounded?” a small gasp escapes your lips at his question. “it was roasted, yeah! i’m surprised you noticed that; i didn’t think anyone would.”

“i felt the small chunks of the coffee beans as i chewed. and nutella as a filling balances the taste of the beans. i’d say it’s a good product to endorse.”

“really?”

zayne hums in agreement, finishing the macaron in his hand before grabbing another one from the box. “i recall that you haven’t told me your “idea” yet since the last time we saw each other.” he says, before taking another bite.

“oh! sorry about that; i keep forgetting to stop by akso hospital lately. but worry not—i didn’t forget about my idea!” you replied, fishing something out of your pocket. it was a keyring, though it wasn’t that obvious at first glance. “your idea is... a keyring?” he asks.

“wrong, the keyword is ring!” you say, grabbing his hand to check if it fits on his ring finger.

you seemed unaware of the effect of your actions, suddenly taking zayne by surprise by your sudden touch. he feels the cold metal wrap around the ring finger of his dominant hand. “look, it’s a perfect fit! just remember to always have it on, especially when you have appointments and surely those introductions would be gone, right?”

zayne inspects the keyring around his finger, flipping his hand as he takes it in. “i never would’ve expected that a keyring could act as a marriage ring.” he states. “m-marriage ring?!” you exclaimed. i never really thought of it as that. you thought, mentally sweatdropping. “is it not supposed to be?” zayne’s gaze at you shows obvious confusion. “well… i guess it could serve as that. i just thought of it as some fake promise ring that you could use at most.”

“the purpose is the same. i don’t think it matters what it stands for—the main purpose of this is to show my older patients that i’m taken, right?”

“yup! it’s nothing much, really, but i feel bad for what you have to endure when you have your appointments. do you think it would work?” you reply.

“we just have to play our cards right and then we’ll see.”

“mhm! wait—we?”

“yes, we. did i say something wrong?” there he goes again with the confused look.

“what do you mean… we?” this better not be what i’m thinking. you hoped, bracing yourself for whatever bomb he was about to drop.

but just as your luck to that runs out, zayne replies. “i thought we were both going to be wearing keyrings?” fuck, i knew it. you thought. inside your head, you can envision yourself on all fours, punching the ground as you also try to think of something—anything to reply with.

“but you’re the only one who has this... conflict. what use would it be if i also wore one?”

before zayne could even realize it, he already took a step and started sailing in dangerous, uncharted waters. “you told me a few times, including the time that you last visited, that my patients have wondered and asked if you were my significant other. wouldn’t it be more convincing if we were to uphold that sentiment?”

you swore you could feel your soul drain itself out of your body.

“so you want us to... fake date, basically? so we could stop your older patients from introducing their endless amount of daughters and granddaughters? did i get that right?” you ask again, just to be sure if what you’re hearing is actually right and real.

“yes, you’re quite spot-on.”

“you’re lucky that i have two keyrings by coincidence.”

well, it’s not like it’s going to be anything serious. and it’s also beneficial for me because they also pester me with their questions every time i visit. the offer is way a bit enticing for it’s own good—but everything should be fine.

with a soft sigh and one macaron left on the box (you and zayne were snacking on them as you had your discussion), you spoke again. “you’ve got yourself a deal. you better start wearing that keyring, dr. zayne.”

“i don’t think you should be calling me that when we’re supposed to portray ourselves like a couple.” he remarked.

you choke on your own saliva at his statement. “w-we’ll talk about the other details another day! how does the next time i visit—which i actually promise to do now—sound?” cursing yourself for stammering (but how could you not when he caught you so off guard?), you try your best not to embarrass yourself any further. “that sounds good.”

as the last macaron on the box you served gets consumed, you find yourself securing a peculiar deal with a certain heart surgeon.

THREE: AS SOUR AS A BITE OF STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE MELTING ON YOUR TONGUE.

staying true to your promise, you visited zayne a few days after his visit to your bakery. you had the same keyring wrapped around your ring finger, hoping to find zayne the same. “are you busy?”

he glances at you from his monitor and you notice that his shoulders relax again when he realizes it was you in the doorway. “what pastry do you have in store for me this time?” he asks you as you approach to have yourself a seat on the small couch.

“sadly there’s no pastry today; i accidentally forgot to grab one from the bakery’s fridge before i left but next time i’ll bring you some strawberry shortcake!”

“i’ll take note of that.”

zayne then continues to speak. “about where we stopped our discussion last time... would it be okay with you to completely drop with the formalities in general? you don’t have to call me dr. zayne, especially when we’re in the hospital.”

“what do i call you then?”

“zayne would be just fine. almost no one calls me that here.”

“zayne, huh… zayne, zayne… zayne.” you repeat his name to get yourself used to it. “alright then, doct—i mean, zayne.”

he nods at you in acknowledgement as you shift your gaze at his dominant hand. surely enough, you saw that keyring on his finger. “i see you’re wearing the keyring. did it work so far?” you ask him. “actually, yes, it did. the introductions lessened and i found myself at peace with most of my appointments today.”

“so my plan does work. huh, i never would’ve thought.” zayne takes this as an opportunity to reply. “how about you? did your keyring work?”

“not yet, i guess? when i arrived, yvonne told me that your appointments and checkups were done for the day. so i didn’t really encounter any of your patients today. maybe next time.”

zayne visited your bakery during the weekend again. although unfortunately, you weren’t there. one of your employees said that you were busy with an errand today so zayne just got a slice of yet another blueberry cheesecake on the go and quickly made his leave.

(he doesn’t see why he would stay when he isn’t sure of what time you’d return.)

the next time you and zayne saw each other, you had forgotten to bring the strawberry shortcake you told him back then. but what did happen is that you encountered a few familiar patients of zayne’s. they were all women who looked like they’re in their mid-sixties in a group of three. they were chatting nearby the entrance to zayne’s office when they spotted you.

and apparently, one of them recognized you.

“hello, dear. you’re the one who brings dr. zayne snacks, right? i remember seeing you here before.” she says, approaching you. “ah, yes! that would be me.” you let out a soft chuckle at her. “how kind of you to do so! are you perhaps his girlfriend?” another woman asks. the woman who approached you (who introduced herself as violet), shushes her friend. “don’t throw sudden questions at the lady! sorry about her, dear.”

the third woman in their group suddenly perks up and points at your hand. “look violet, her ring looks familiar... where have i seen it before, i wonder?” as soon as she said that, all three of the women’s attention was now all on your hand with the keyring on it.

“isn’t that like the ring on dr. zayne’s hand?”

there was then a moment of silence before they all realized what that question meant.

after escaping the clutches of their neverending queries (that you tried to answer as much as you could, and you never could’ve escaped without yvonne’s help of escorting them out), you finally got to knock on zayne’s office.

“come in.” his voice sounds muffled through the door.

once you settle down yourself inside, you let out a huge and relieved sigh. “was there a commotion outside? i heard multiple voices through the door, one of them being yours.” zayne asks.

“ah, well it turns out that your patients are really observant. did you know i had to make up some fake story on the spot of how we met?”

“is that so? do you mind telling me what this story is? they might ask about it the next time they come for a checkup.” he replies.

the actual story of how you and zayne met wasn’t really that far off from the one you told the small group of old ladies.

(it was dusk when you encountered zayne on the sidewalk; you accidentally bumped into him and he noticed you were seemingly in a rush. “oh my god, i’m so sorry! i wasn’t looking where i was running.” zayne waves his hand dismissively. “it’s alright, are you hurt?”

“not at all—” you checked the time with your wrist watch. “crap! uhm, excuse me, sir. do you know if there’s a flower shop nearby here? i’m in a terrible need of dried flowers at the moment.” you ask him.

zayne thought about it for a moment, trying to recall if there is one. he then tells you the directions to the flower shop he has seen in the area and you immediately thanked him. “thank you, thank you so much! feel free to drop by the cozy oven. my treat for helping me! thank you again, kind sir!” you say before running off in the direction he told you.

that was first time you met him and you were sure that was also the first time he met you.

but what if it isn’t?)

“oh, you know, i just told them some silly old cliche where i bumped into you while holding two bouquets of flowers and decided to treat you to some coffee as an apology. nothing that out of the ordinary, really.”

“noted. they’ll probably ask me about which bouquet it was next time.” this time it was his turn to let out a sigh.

“oh yeah! one of my staff members said you visited the bakery last weekend. sorry, i was busy that time. my friend ordered a cake for this event and i was also invited to it so i had to leave the job of handling the bakery to my employees.” you told him. “it’s alright, don’t fret.”

that day ended with zayne offering you a ride home.

the next few times you and zayne were together after that, you swear something was changing.

you never thought zayne could be the touchy type; he grabs ahold of your hand, going as far as interlocking your fingers together. hell, he even puts his hand on your waist when you’re walking in public.

you knew what you were getting into when you both agreed on that deal. but it’s just so... strange. scary, if you think about it.

how is he so good at this? no, more like—

why does it feel so real?

zayne is an attractive man, and that was certainly a fact. smart, rich, handsome, and well-mannered—he’s even soft spoken for goodness sake! that man has got it all, which is no wonder why some of his patients would want to set up their daughter with him. any woman would be lucky to experience what it’s like to be loved by him.

but is this what it feels like?

perhaps.

that was all you could say—after all, this is all just a fake setup so you both could shoo away his patients.

yet if it was all fake, why were your faces suddenly so close to one another right now? your lips were close to brushing against each other; one small nudge and you’d find out what it was like to kiss zayne.

the sudden phone ring echoing somewhere in the room snaps the both of you out of it.

as you both pull away out of surprise, zayne picks up the phone. “this is zayne speaking.” he says.

you just sat there on his couch, wondering many things.

it’s just a fake stunt. don’t get sidetracked, (y/n).

but why is it that whenever you remind yourself that it is fake, an uncertain pang hits your chest? you never could tell zayne this; he might think you suddenly have a heart condition and be concerned (and you wouldn’t be surprised because he is someone who is under cardiology).

this could be nothing. no, scratch that; it is nothing. zayne is an impossible man to reach, and he is only a friend to you.

nothing more, nothing less.

the next time you visited zayne at akso hospital, you finally had a slice of strawberry shortcake stored safely in a box for him.

you were still distracted by the time you two almost kissed, but you couldn’t let zayne know that for obvious reasons.

at this point in your fake dating plan, his patients are all convinced that you both are together, finding it cute and squealing in awe when you see each other in the hallway where his office is located. you were surprised at how well you and zayne were pulling this off.

“special delivery for dr. zayne?” you say, peeking through the door to check if he’s busy. “and what did i order this time?” he asks back. you take that as your cue to step inside. “one slice of a promised and long overdue strawberry shortcake!” you told him, setting down the small box and another plastic fork on top of the box.

“about time you remembered.” he says, taking the fork and opening the box. the familiar scent of strawberry shortcake then circulates around the two of you, which made zayne take a bite almost immediately. “are you planning on visiting the bakery this weekend?” you then ask him.

zayne swallows before he speaks. “i have thought about it, yes. and i was actually planning to ask you about your weekend plans today actually.”

“oh? why?”

“i was just wondering if you’d like to make plans with me since i’m usually off-duty during weekends.”

you become a bit awkward as soon as zayne says that. and zayne, being as observant as ever, obviously noticed it. “is there something wrong? it’s okay if you’re busy.” you waved your hands at him, “no, no! it’s not like that. well, kinda i guess? ugh, it’s just that…”

“i may or may not have agreed to go on a blind date this weekend.”

if zayne hadn’t listened that carefully, he would’ve missed it. but no, he caught every single word that slipped out of you. the sour taste of the sliced strawberry, along with the spongy texture of the cake, suddenly felt like sand in zayne’s mouth. and as ironic as that, he suddenly feels iffy as soon as you say that—like he was also sour. “is that so… that’s alright. you should enjoy your plans instead.”

“wait. you’re not mad?”

am i mad? zayne mentally asked himself. he doesn’t think he is, but he does somewhat feel disturbed by the idea of you going on a date with another man, and that doesn’t feel right to him either. “i’m not. why would i be mad?” a lie.

you stiffen at your seat, trying to come up with an explanation. that question just slipped off of your tongue; you didn’t mean to ask that. “well, uhm.. you know, because we’re in this fake dating thingy, i just thought it would be weird to you if i were to go see someone else and all that, yeah.”

“you said it yourself; this is all fake. so i’m not stopping you if you want to do that.”

ouch? why does his confirmation that it’s nothing serious get a kick to it? you thought. “really? okay then, thanks for letting me know.”

zayne couldn’t shake off the sourness of the strawberry from his tongue. and the thing is—the strawberries that you use for your products aren’t even that sour. it was more sweet than sour in the first place. so why? why can’t he get the sourness off?

why does he suddenly feel so bitter at the thought of you seeing someone else?

the rest of the hour felt a bit suffocating after that.

FOUR: AS BLAND AS MISSING THE DELECTABLE TASTE OF YOUR COMPANY.

when the weekend rolled around, zayne didn’t visit your bakery. he didn’t find a need to because you weren’t there. he wasn’t close to your staff and he doesn’t really want to get close to them. and zayne isn’t that close with a lot of people in general, so he decided to spend his weekend at home.

he thinks about the conversation he had with you when you brought up the topic of having a blind date scheduled today.

and he still feels sour about that. he doesn’t know why.

then he suddenly remembers the one time when he was so close to feeling your lips on his. zayne hoped that he wasn’t obvious but this moment had perhaps made him short circuit. your face was so close—he could take every little detail of your features with the distance.

but you just had to have this blind date today.

zayne feels even more sour after that.

he was a doctor, yes, but he obviously isn’t an expert in psychology or emotions. so as he unlocks his phone, he opens the web browser installed and types in the search bar.

now, jealousy was a foreign concept for zayne.

he stares blankly at the results his search shows him, a part of him refusing to believe that what he was feeling was jealousy and the rational part of him telling himself that if this isn’t it, what else could it be?

but another question puts him in a dilemma. why is he even jealous in the first place?

of course you can go see other people. he doesn’t have the right to be mad about that. zayne didn’t own you, and you didn’t own zayne. if he were in your position, you’d just let him go on that blind date.

yet the idea of you falling in love with another makes him uneasy.

oh.

zayne wasn’t stupid. he didn’t need to drown himself in any more thoughts on this matter to realize what was happening to him.

he was falling.

falling for you, to be specific.

and there’s nothing that could help him.

being forced into a blind date never goes well. and you swore that you'd strangle your friend who forced you into this in the first place.

“so, what do you do for a living?” your date asks before sipping from his glass of red wine. “oh, i’m a baker. i run a bakery, actually. it’s located nearby akso hospital.”

“is that so? what do you usually bake?”

“i bake all sorts of things! from cakes to macarons—“ you pause when you say macarons. you suddenly recall the day when you asked zayne to taste test your new macaron flavor. you cleared your throat to regain composure.

“sorry about that; something just came to mind. but like i said, i bake a whole lot of cakes and pastries. i like to experiment with new flavors, you see. what about you?”

“oh, i’m currently a resident at akso hospital actually!” the man before you says. “really? under which department?” you ask him. “cardiology. i always found the heart a fascinating thing to study.”

you tried to hold yourself back from choking on your wine. “c-cardiology, you say…?” hearing the term come out of your date’s mouth has something uncomfortable bubbling up inside of you. your mind finds itself drifting back to zayne—

what am i even thinking? get a grip (y/n)! you’re on a date for fuck’s sake!

“mhm. one of my mentors is really nice, a bit cold but i know he’s just really like that. his name is dr. zayne, by the way.” and as if the universe is mocking you right now, your date just had to say that his mentor was zayne of all people.

“i think i’ve heard of him once or twice, yeah. he’s a good heart surgeon, right?”

as time seemed to pass by, you could feel yourself feeling more distracted. when the waiter came to ask if you’d like any dessert, your mind immediately thought of zayne.

while looking through the dessert menu, you wondered if zayne would like what this restaurant is offering. what would zayne’s opinion be on this?

and your date continues to speak, the sole fact that he’s a resident under zayne, was enough to sidetrack your mind towards him.

zayne, zayne, zayne. this whole date has done nothing but remind you of the doctor.

by the time the date was over, you entered the door to your apartment complex (which is located above your bakery) and slid against the door as soon as you closed it.

removing your heels as you were on the floor, you let out a sigh. “what the fuck is going on with me tonight?” you asked no one in particular.

the date wasn’t even bad but nothing about it felt right for you. like there was something clearly wrong with the whole principle of you going on a blind date in the first place but you didn’t know what it was.

you try to recall what happened before the blind date happened, trying to see if something would have triggered your current state.

your recollection brings you to the time you told zayne about the blind date a few days ago.

something felt off about him when you dropped the bomb on him that time. it’s as if something shifted in the air when you revealed your plans for the weekend to him.

“oh, god. you have got to be kidding me.” you facepalmed when the realization dawned upon you.

your thoughts were running. how could’ve i been so stupid? it was written all over my face in the first place! i like zayne. holy shit i actually—

but it all stops there when you then realize what you just said.

you didn’t visit zayne after your blind date. and when he visits your bakery, you hide yourself from him in the kitchen (and you also told your employees to not spill a word about your actual whereabouts, making them form excuses on what you’re up to).

simply to say, you were avoiding zayne.

it scared you. you didn’t know what to do with your new feelings, especially when the whole fake dating thing was still ongoing for the both of you.

how can you keep faking it all up when everything just feels so real? when you couldn’t help but wonder if you’re still friends after everything you’ve done?

zayne: Are you going to visit today?

zayne: I miss getting my special delivery.

you stared at his message, trying to process it. why did he have to say it like that? what does he mean by that? you thought.

(y/n): sorry, i can’t.

(y/n): i need to prioritize some cake orders for now. maybe next time.

zayne: Oh, alright then.

you know full well that there most probably won’t be a next time. you’ll just keep denying and deflecting as much as you can—and as long as you can.

however, zayne knew you were avoiding him and he most definitely didn’t need to be a genius to notice that.

but he doesn’t know why. was it something that he did? were you alright? perhaps you haven’t been feeling well as of late. were you overworking yourself lately?

zayne thinks about the time you two almost kissed again. maybe he should’ve gone for it. maybe he shouldn’t have answered that goddamn phone call. maybe—

maybe he shouldn’t have let you go on that blind date.

your phone vibrates against the pocket of your apron. you pull it out to check the notification and go blank at the sender.

zayne: Have you been well?

zayne: We haven’t seen each other lately.

his clinic hours are not the same as of late. zayne got so used to you visiting him at akso—to seeing you in general—that it just feels... bland now that you’re not present.

zayne misses you. and he wonders if you miss him too.

FIVE: AS SWEET AS KNOWING THAT I WASN’T TOO LATE.

(before you bumped into zayne on the sidewalk, you two had actually met.

once in a cafe, and once in the grocery store... zayne had noticed that since you two lived in the same community, it was bound that you’d encounter each other a lot—although you don’t really seem to notice him.

when zayne met you in the grocery store, the first thing that he noticed about you was that your shopping cart was halfway filled with baking ingredients. there were at least three (or was it four?) dozen of eggs stacked, two packs of all-purpose flour, a small bottle of sprinkles (both the colorful and chocolate ones), and a whole lot more.

at first glance, any other person would ignore you. zayne would be one of them—he had no clue why he noticed you and your shopping cart. he was only in the aisle because it’s the way to where the bread was located.

that was the first time zayne sees you.

the second time he saw you, zayne encountered you in a cafe this time. weeks passed since he saw you while he was out for groceries and you had papers sprawled all over the small table in front of you. zayne didn’t really get a good look at them but he assumed that it was all sorts of cake design from the single glance he got to have.

wedding cakes, birthday cakes, anniversary cakes. there were a whole bunch of designs. perhaps you baked for a living.

again, at first glance, any other person would ignore you. and zayne would still be one of them—though would this become a lie because isn’t it strange that it has happened twice? not like there’s anything bad with noticing you. it’s just... out of his character, per se.

the third time zayne meets you, it was the time you also recall—the encounter on the sidewalk. now, what were the chances that zayne would meet you there that late afternoon? he didn’t know.

and with that small conversation between the two of you happening, zayne’s assumption was correct. the baking ingredients, the cake designs, and now you telling him to visit your bakery—

maybe he should visit the cozy oven during the weekend.)

around three weeks have passed since you started ignoring him. you were surprised at how well you were doing so far. not like it was hard doing so. the real challenge was to ignore his texts and make yourself reply late.

and when he visits the bakery, which is what’s going on right now.

it was almost nine in the evening when you finished closing up your bakery. you heard footsteps getting louder, signaling that someone is walking towards you.

“there you are.” you knew that voice anywhere.

“zayne? what are you doing here at this hour?” you ask him out of surprise. “well, a certain someone seems to be hiding from me, so i thought it was time to change my strategy and do a surprise attack. it looks like it worked.”

“ah. sorry about that... work has been a bit busy. you know?” you take in zayne’s appearance before you, eyes slightly widening at the keyring that is still on his finger.

(how ironic because you were also wearing yours at the moment. your excuse would be “it was out of pure habit.”)

“so busy that even when i visit you hide yourself from me?”

he got you there. “i—no, no! it’s just that—“ zayne cuts you off with another question. “did i do something wrong?”

“what?”

“you heard me. (y/n), did i do something wrong? i understand that you’ve been busy but something feels different. like there’s something more to it than just you being busy.” he then says. why does he have to be always so observant?

the guilt of your decisions as of late started to eat you up inside. “i… i don’t know.”

“you don’t know?” zayne asks again.

“i mean, it’s not like i literally don’t know but it’s just... did we even do the right thing? you know, fake date and all of that.”

zayne could feel the unease creeping up on him with your question. “the plan worked, did it not?”

“no, zayne. what i mean is that did we do the right thing with fake dating in the first place? because for the love of god, we almost kissed! and—and we’re both old enough to realize that friends don’t just... kiss.”

“is this about your blind date a few weeks ago?” you don’t know what he means by that. because you never met up again with that blind date, telling him that as much as it was nice to know him, you’re not really interested in giving romance a whirl for now.

you didn’t know what to answer to that. “so it is.” he then says. you wanted to say no, but no words came out of you. it was as if your lips felt like they were sewn closed. “i guess i was too late then.”

too late?

“wait—what do you mean too late?”

zayne’s look in his eyes confused you. you couldn’t decipher the emotions that were present in his gaze. “aren’t you still seeing your blind date nowadays?”

then it all made sense to you.

zayne thinks the reason you started avoiding him was probably because he thought you hit it off with your blind date. before you could answer his question, he speaks again. “to be honest with you, recently, especially during your absence, i have come to the realization that i like you, (y/n).”

wait. what?

too speechless to cut in, he continues. “i felt off when you first said that you agreed to that blind date of yours. i just brushed it off back then but later i realized that it was because i was jealous. i soon regretted not doing anything about it—and when you started ignoring me, i couldn’t help but think that maybe you didn’t want to visit me anymore in my office as a sign of respect to your new lover.” in other words, i missed you.

you try to process everything that he just came clean about. but there is only one highlight in everything he said—he likes you. zayne likes you.

and you like him too.

“first of all, i’m really sorry for ignoring you, zayne. i honestly only did it out of fear because i recently realized that i like you too.” zayne was about to speak up when you raised a hand to shush him. “let me finish first. i never met with my blind date again after our first meeting. i told him that i kindly told him that i didn’t want to try romance for now—though that was partially a lie because i only find myself wanting to try romance out with you.”

zayne also only got one highlight out of that—you like him too. that’s all that matters to him.

“so i wasn’t too late?” he then asks.

you take a few steps closer to him. “no, zayne. you’re just in time.” zayne’s hands find themselves on your waist. “then can i kiss you?” you shoot him a playful glare. “are you sure a phone call isn’t going to interrupt us this time?” you then say, arms wrapping themselves around his neck.

“i’m sure.”

“then you can.”

and without hesitation, zayne leans in to capture your lips with his. he could feel you smiling in the kiss, and zayne savors the faint taste of your lippie—not minding that it might have smudged on his lips now.

when you both pulled away, you couldn’t help but giggle. zayne’s lips were covered in some of your tinted lip gloss. you reach out a hand to smudge it away before pecking him a quick kiss to his nose and asking him, “do you want to come inside? i have a new macaron flavor for you to taste test.”

“is that so? what is it this time?” he replies, hands not leaving your waist.

“salted caramel! but not the ones that are sweet; i made sure that this one actually has a salty kick to it!”

zayne definitely has a sweet tooth.

yet there’s nothing more sweet than knowing that you like him too.

#( writings )#love and deepspace #lads #love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #zayne love and deepspace #lads zayne #zayne x reader #zayne x you #l&ds zayne #zayne #x reader

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napthaliii · 2 years ago

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1 July 2023 | Cardiac Auscultation (heart sounds)

The atria pump blood into the ventricles, the valves between the atria & ventricles close to prevent backflow. The “lub” (aka S1) is the sound of these valves closing. When the ventricles contract to pump blood away from the heart, the aortic & pulmonary valves close making the “dub” sound (aka S2). 🫀

#student nurse #studyblr #100 days of productivity #notes #📝#nursing student #napthaliii #cardiology

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 11 months ago

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Honey Girl. Chapter Nine.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Ten. The Playlist. Series Masterlist.

Chapter Synopsis - You and Bucky are holding it together. Until you aren’t.

Pairing - DadsBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - cursing. hospital setting. talk of illness/health issues. panic attack.

Word Count - 3k

Authors Note - I probably sound like a broken record, but… thank you all so much for your patience and support. couldn’t do it without you. can you even believe that next chapter will be chapter ten? thanks for sticking with me. sorry for this rollercoaster of a chapter. there is still more to come - don’t worry!! <3

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

You don’t remember the journey.

One minute, Bucky’s grabbing your hand and bundling you into the passenger seat of his truck, buckling you in as your hands shake. The next, he’s undoing your seatbelt, telling you that you’ve arrived as he puts the car in park. You don’t recall speeding across town and into the city. You can’t even think back to the roads flying past in a blur as your thoughts run at a hundred miles an hour.

The only thing that’s on your mind is your Dad.

You and Buck take the stairs two at a time, hands clasped together tightly. When you reach the reception desk, you try to speak, but nothing comes out. Your words have dried up, dissolved and evaporated into thin air. Your soulmate saves you, once again.

“We’re here to see a family member in cardiology. Can you tell us where to go, please?”

The receptionist looks up at you both, before nodding her head in the right direction.

“Follow that hallway, then through the double doors and up the stairs. Go left, and you’ll see the sign.”

You’re on autopilot, heading straight towards the doors. Bucky follows you quickly, throwing a chaste but genuine thanks to the lady behind the desk as he goes.

“Baby,” he calls after you when you reach the top. “Baby, hold on.”

You spin around, looking up at him with glassy eyes. Your bottom lip quivers as he tucks some hair behind your ear, fingertips brushing your cheek gently.

“Take a breath, please. You’re gonna faint before you get there.”

You inhale as deeply as possible, your lungs only filling to half capacity. You grab onto his hand for a second, squeezing as hard as you can.

“Okay. Breath done. Let’s go.”

You take off down the hallway, leaving Bucky to jog after you. Finding the big blue sign that reads Cardiology, you storm through the doors, looking around frantically. You spot Room 4 and head straight into it.

The room is all white, clinical and clean. There’s sunshine beaming through the window, but it doesn’t seem to warm the space. It’s cold, almost ominous. It makes it hard to breathe.

The bed is empty, crisp sheets tucked tightly into the plastic sides. Your Mom is sat in the chair beside it. She looks small, swallowed by the blue material.

“Mama.”

You don’t recognise your own voice. It’s choked and strangled, foreign to your ears.

She practically jumps up, striding across the room to wrap you in her arms. Inhaling the familiar scent of home, you hug her back as tightly as you can.

“Where is he?”

“He’s in surgery.”

You breathe a half sigh of relief. You’d feared the worst, when you’d walked in and seen the empty bed.

“What happened?”

Bucky’s been leaning against the door frame, watching you both carefully but giving you space. The tone of his voice is calm, collected. He’s holding it together for you.

“I honestly couldn’t understand it all. They were telling me so much information so fast.”

She sits down in the chair while you and Bucky perch on the edge of the bed, facing her.

“It was supposed to just be an appointment, wasn’t it?”

She nods.

“They did the EKG and weren’t happy with the results, so the nurse put us in this room while she waited for the Doctor. Then the Doctor burst in, talking about blockages and bypasses and emergency surgery.”

Her hands are trembling, neatly manicured nails being picked at repeatedly. Bucky reaches over and links his fingers with hers, all grounded and reassuring.

“They put him in a gown,” she continues, “and all of a sudden they were wheeling him away. I can’t even remember what I said, or if I said goodbye or I love you.”

“Mama, you will have said I love you. I promise you that.”

“She’s right, Lori. You will have said exactly the right thing. You always do.”

She squeezes his hand gratefully, taking a deep breath.

“The Doctor said he had a blockage, and they were worried about blood clotting. That’s why they rushed him in. The nurse said she’d update me when she knew anything, but I haven’t spoken to anyone yet.”

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon. You know what Jack’s like,” Bucky laughs. “He’s the toughest guy I know.”

She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, freshen up a little. Call me if a nurse comes in, won’t you?”

You nod, clasping her hand tightly for a moment.

“Promise, Mama.”

She stands up carefully, inhaling before leaving the room. Your posture instantly crumbles, faked bravado leaving you as soon as she’s out of view.

“I’m so scared,” you whisper.

Bucky hears it clear as day.

He slides closer to you, wrapping both arms around your frame. Pressing a kiss into your hair, he runs his fingertips up and down your spine gently.

“I’ve got you, baby. You’re allowed to be scared. But everything is going to be okay. I know it will be.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” you mumble into the cotton of his shirt. “It should, but it doesn’t. That scares me, too.”

Bucky traces the features of your face gently with his thumb, his ocean blue eyes never leaving yours. He dances his finger over the slope of your nose, your cheekbones, the curve of your lips. His skin is warm and calloused against yours, polar opposite to how cold you feel.

“I’m your soulmate,” he murmurs, “but I’m not a miracle worker. Fuck, I wish I was. There are gonna be some things that I can’t fix for you, no matter how badly I want to. We just have to ride them out together, sweet girl.”

You nod, leaning in to rest your head against his pounding heart.

It still beats to the rhythm of your name. Even after all this time.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You don’t jump apart when your Mom walks back in.

Upon first glance, the picture is simple - a girl being comforted by her Dads best friend. A hug. Reassuring words.

If you look closer, the image becomes a little more complicated - her fingers tangled in the front of his shirt. His hand cradling the back of her head. Familiar lips softly pressed to her temple.

Any other time, someone might question the sheer intimacy of the moment. But not now.

Now, all focus is drawn to the nurse in sky blue scrubs that appears in the doorway.

“You’re all Jack’s family?”

You all spin to face her, nodding frantically.

“Thought so. He’s out of surgery, and he’ll be brought up here shortly.”

“Is he alright?” your Mom asks, standing up. You can physically see the tension rising in her body.

“He’s doing okay. The Doctor is going to come up and talk to you a little about some… complications. But he’s okay.”

The reassurance at the end of the sentence doesn’t make any of you feel any better. You’re stuck on the word complications.

As if on cue, your Dad is wheeled in, all laid up cosy in crisp white sheets. He has oxygen tucked up under his nose, tubes and wires attached to his hands. He looks fragile, which is a state you’ve never seen him in before. Usually, he’s larger than life, braver than a bear, with a booming laugh that can make anyone smile. In this current moment, he looks like a little boy again, put to bed softly by his mother on a school night.

They get him situated as the Doctor approaches the three of you, huddled by the chair to stay out of the way.

“The surgery went well. The blockage has been fixed, and hopefully shouldn’t reoccur. We’ll put him on medication for the future, blood thinners most likely, to prevent anything further.”

Your Mom nods, lips pressed together.

“The nurse said there was complications?”

Bucky’s voice is low and careful, the timbre of it reverberating next to you.

“We ran into some trouble with the anaesthetic. We struggled to wake him for quite some time, and then his blood pressure completely bottomed out. We managed to get him steady again, but it was a little touch and go for a minute.”

Your Mom sits down slowly, holding onto the arms of the chair with taut knuckles.

“Your husband is going to be just fine, ma’am. We’ll manage any future worries with meds. Some people just don’t respond well to anaesthesia, especially if they’ve never had it before. We’ll monitor him over the next few days, keep him under observation just in case. But it looks positive. I assure you.”

She inhales, leaning back and exhaling the breath.

“He’ll probably just sleep it off for the rest of today, so don’t worry if he’s barely conscious. His body has been through a trauma, and he needs some time to recover.”

You all nod, Bucky’s hand reaching out to squeeze yours momentarily. He subtly presses a kiss into the nape of your neck, as if to melt the tension away.

You all breathe a collective sigh of relief.

“If you need anything, there are always nurses walking around on this floor. They’ll call me if necessary.”

She smiles before leaving, picking up her clipboard as she goes.

“Thanks, Doctor!” Bucky calls after her, making both you and your Mom laugh softly.

The three of you remain still for a while, scared to make any sudden moves. Eventually, Bucky stretches his legs.

“I’m gonna grab some coffees. The usuals?”

You both nod at him.

“Be right back. Call me if you need anything.”

You can’t take your eyes off him as he leaves. You miss his warmth instantly.

“He’s a good guy,” your Mom whispers to you from the chair, where you’re perched on the armrest. She’s watching him go too.

You hum in agreement.

“He looks out for you.”

You hum in agreement once again, albeit this time a little quieter.

“You guys are close, these days.”

You inhale calmly.

“Yeah,” you murmur. “He’s got my back.”

“He likes you a lot.”

Before she can continue, your Dads eyes flutter open slowly. You both jump up, standing on either side of his bed.

“Hi, honey.”

“Hi, Dad.”

He blinks rapidly, trying to adjust to the harsh lighting.

“How you feeling, tough guy?”

He smiles softly, and the relief that fills your body is so overwhelming, you feel as if your legs might give out. You hold onto the metal bars of the bed for support, praying you stay upright.

He groans a little, throat hoarse.

“Water?”

Your Mom puts the straw in his mouth, nodding in approval as he sips.

“I’m good,” he croaks. “Got my girls with me.”

You both laugh.

“Jack, as much as I’d love to be your girl…”

Bucky is stood against the doorframe, keeping a careful distance from the family moment. Your Dad chuckles, shaking his head.

“You’re the prettiest one, Buck,” he says with as much conviction as he can muster. You all can’t help but laugh even more.

“How you feeling, honey?”

“Fine. Tired, though.”

“The Doctor said you’d most likely just sleep it off all day. Go back to sleep, if you want to. We’re right here.”

He nods, closing his eyes instantly. Your Mom settles back in the chair as Bucky hands her a coffee. He goes to give you yours, but you place it down on the side table.

“I’m gonna get some air. Be back in a minute.”

He gives you a look that says are you sure?, but you’re already out the door, not glancing back.

“She doesn’t like hospitals.”

Bucky nods in recognition, but can’t focus on anything except the severe levels of rising anxiety in his chest.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You can’t find your way out, and it’s making you panic more.

You’re throwing doors open, running down sets of stairs. Eventually, you see an exit, and barge through it with no regard for your surroundings. You’re at the front of the hospital, somehow making it to the main entrance.

Your lungs feel like they’re burning, white hot heat filling them with each weak inhale that you manage. The world is turning, suddenly, the entire axis of the Earth shifting on its head. Gasping, you grab onto a railing, desperate to just take a full breath and calm down.

The more you try to breathe, the worse things seem to get. It feels like the non existent walls are closing in, claustrophobia settling into your weary bones. Your legs buckle as your surroundings spin.

You don’t even register the impact of your knees hitting the ground, nor feel the pain that follows. You’re only minutely aware that you’re even on the floor because you can feel the warm tarmac underneath your palms.

Suddenly, there are two strong arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you into a solid chest. You relax against it, tired of fighting.

“It’s me, baby. Shit, it’s me.”

The voice is panicked, almost frantic in the way it hits your ears. There’s a hand stroking over your hair, strumming over your cheekbone, squeezing your shoulder. You wonder for a second if anyone has ever died from something like this. You feel as if you’re pretty close.

“You’ve got to start slowing your breathing, honey. Can you hear me?”

You think you nod. You assume you do, because the voice continues.

“Put your hand on my heart,” he says as he does it for you. “Just like that. Can you feel the beat of it, underneath your palm? It sounds like a drum, right? One two, one two, one two. Can you focus on it?”

You try to hone into the sound. You think you might be able to distantly feel it, where your hand meets his shirt.

“How about if we create a pattern together? And we’ll both follow it? Like this.”

The voice tilts your chin upwards, so you’re looking into his eyes.

“Bucky,” you choke out.

“Breathe when I breathe, okay? In, and out,” he inhales and exhales. “In, and out. There we go, atta girl. In, and out. You got it.”

You stay collapsed on the sidewalk for what feels like hours, breathing when he tells you to. You focus your vision on his ocean blue irises, finding your home in them. Eventually, you feel like you’re somewhat filling your lungs, and the world stops spinning.

“There she is.”

You drop your head onto his chest, warm tears soaking into the material of his shirt.

“I’ve got you, sweet girl. I’ve got you. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

You finally let yourself relax, sagging against his body as he holds you close.

“Fuck, you scared me. Are you hurt?”

You don’t even know the answer to that question yourself.

Bucky starts checking you over, looking for any visible injuries. When he reaches your knees, he inhales sharply.

“Shit, baby. We’ll have to get some antiseptic on these grazes of yours. You’ll have some badass bruises tomorrow, tough girl.”

You realise, slowly, where you are. You’re on the sidewalk outside the hospital, sat on the floor, wrapped in Bucky’s arms. You try to stand up too quickly, and wobble backwards.

“Woah, easy. There we go. Come sit over here with me.”

There’s a wooden bench not far from the entrance, tucked in between a hedge and a flowerbed. You take a seat, surveying the bloody mess of your knees as you do.

“They look worse than they are, baby. Promise. We’ll fix them when we go back upstairs.”

You rest your head on his shoulder as he throws an arm around you and tugs you into his side.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, hmm?”

“Don’t like hospitals,” you whisper. “Never have.”

“Is there… any particular reason? Or is it just one of those things?”

“Spent a lot of time here when I was younger,” you admit quietly. “I was kind of a sick kid. Had my own set of issues. Lots of appointments and stuff.”

Bucky nods against the top of your head, pressing a kiss into your hair.

“You never mentioned anything.”

“Didn’t think it was relevant.”

He hums.

“I’m sorry,” you confess. “For causing a scene. Being dramatic.”

“Honey,” he scolds. “You’re not dramatic. We’ve all got our fears, the things that make us tick. I promise you, no one thinks you’re dramatic. You feel how you feel, and that’s okay.”

You sigh in defeat, pulling your knees up under your chin.

“I think I was holding it together until I saw he was okay. When I knew he was fine, I just… crumbled.”

“That’s a perfect reflection of your character, you know. Keeping it together for everyone else.”

You chuckle dryly.

“Maybe. I suppose.”

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The two of you sit outside for a while longer, breathing in the fresh air and revelling in each others embrace.

“We should probably go back up. They’re going to wonder where we are.”

You go to stand up, but Bucky pulls you back down onto the bench.

“Honey, wait. There’s something we need to… talk about, before we go.”

You turn to face him, and instantly tense up. He looks worried.

“Buck, what is it?”

“I… I don’t know what we’re supposed to do. Or how we’re meant to handle this. I really, really don’t know what the best angle is here.”

“You’re scaring me,” you say as you cradle his face. His scruff tickles your palm, and any other time, you both would have laughed.

“Before I came down to find you, your Mom raised a question with me.”

“… which was?”

He takes a deep breath. Exhales it shakily.

“She asked me how long you and I have been soulmates.”

tag list part one

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

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bratzkoo · 5 months ago

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scheming heart | jeonghan

Author: bratzkoo Pairing: CFO! Jeonghan x Cardiologist! reader Genre: fluff, chaos Rating: PG-13 Word count: 7.4k~ Warnings/note: second fic for the new series i'm working on, first fic is offside (seungcheol's chaos) and now, we have jeonghan's part of the chaotic world.

summary: Jeonghan has finally found his match in that stubborn cardiologist not knowing that everything was orchestrated by his scheming grandmother in Suite 520.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @escoupseu , @yanabaaaaaaarysheva , @spnyin , @sousydive , @gyuguys , @gyubakeries

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

The VIP suite of Seoul National University Hospital looked like a five-star hotel room had aggressively swallowed a medical facility. Amidst the designer furniture and medical equipment that probably cost more than most people's houses, Granny Han was doing what any respectable 75-year-old chaebol matriarch would do at 7 AM – scheming on her secret iPhone while pretending to be asleep.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥 [Members: Rich_Granny_Han, Nurse_Anna, Boo_CEO, Won_NOT_involved]

Rich_Granny_Han: Operation starts today! New cardiologist incoming! Boo_CEO: OMG YES! Is she pretty? Smart? Ready to handle our dramatic boy? Rich_Granny_Han: Harvard graduate. Young. Scary. Boo_CEO: PERFECT FOR JEONGHAN 😍 Won_NOT_involved: I'm a senior nurse. I don't do matchmaking. Rich_Granny_Han: Sure, dear. BTW I saw you setting up that hidden camera 😘 Won_NOT_involved: ...that's for medical documentation. Nurse_Anna: Babe, we all know you're lying 😂 Won_NOT_involved: I'm turning off my phone. Rich_Granny_Han: No you're not 💅

The door opened, and Granny quickly shoved her phone under her designer hospital blanket (yes, she brought her own, the hospital ones were "peasant fabric").

"Good morning, Halmoni!" Anna breezed in, looking suspiciously cheerful for someone working hospital hours. "Ready for vitals?"

"Anna dear," Granny coughed delicately, a performance worthy of a Best Actress nomination. "Tell me about this new doctor."

"Dr. Y/N," Anna checked the blood pressure monitor while simultaneously texting the group chat behind her back – a skill developed specifically for this job. "Brilliant, scary when caffeine-deprived, and apparently made a chaebol's son cry during her fellowship."

"Perfect!" Granny's eyes gleamed. "Jeonghan needs someone who can handle him. That boy thinks being CFO means Chief Fashion Officer."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Nurse_Anna: ALERT! Target sighted in parking lot. Three cups of coffee. Dark circles. Optimal chaos conditions! Boo_CEO: On my way with premium bubble tea and emotional support! Won_NOT_involved: Don't you have a company to run? Boo_CEO: Bold of you to assume I do actual work Rich_Granny_Han: Everyone in position! Anna, increase heart monitor sensitivity! Won_NOT_involved: That's against protocol... Rich_Granny_Han: I'll add another zero to your Christmas bonus Won_NOT_involved: ...sensitivity increased.

Dr. Y/N strode down the hallway, white coat pristine despite the early hour. As the attending cardiologist, she'd already reviewed several cases since 6 AM. Her coffee consumption was legendary among the cardiology department – not because she was a fresh graduate (she wasn't), but because dealing with entitled family members required chemical assistance.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Nurse_Anna: Target acquired! Our cardiologist looks ready to destroy rich people today Boo_CEO: Jeonghan needs that energy in his life tbh Won_NOT_involved: Shouldn't you be checking on your other patients? Nurse_Anna: Babe, this IS patient care. Emotional patient care. Rich_Granny_Han: Wonwoo dear, go check my IV drip Won_NOT_involved: It's perfectly fine... Rich_Granny_Han: That wasn't a suggestion 😊 Won_NOT_involved: ...checking IV drip now.

Y/N entered Suite 520 to find what looked like a carefully orchestrated scene: Granny Han propped up regally against designer pillows, Anna adjusting monitors with suspicious enthusiasm, and Wonwoo dutifully checking IV lines while pretending not to notice Anna's not-so-subtle winks.

"Good morning, Mrs. Han. I'm Dr. Y/N, your attending cardiologist."

"Please, call me Halmoni," Granny's voice was perfectly pitched between frail and commanding. "Everyone does. Even Wonwoo here, and he tries so hard to be professional."

Wonwoo, caught in the crossfire, focused intently on the IV drip.

The morning assessment went smoothly – suspiciously so. Y/N reviewed Granny's cardiac status while fielding questions that seemed oddly personal for a medical consultation: "Are you married, doctor?" "Do you like coffee? My grandson LOVES coffee." "What's your opinion on dramatic men in expensive suits?"

By 2 PM, all hell broke loose.

The suite's door flew open with theatrical force. Wonwoo, who had been checking Granny's vitals, nearly jumped out of his skin – though whether from the noise or Anna's excited squeal was unclear.

Enter Han Jeonghan, looking like he'd walked off a magazine cover. His Armani suit probably cost more than most nurses' monthly salary – a fact Wonwoo noted with an eye-roll so powerful it could have registered on the cardiac monitor.

"Who," Jeonghan demanded, brandishing his phone, "changed my grandmother's medication without consulting the family?"

Y/N, who had spent years dealing with entitled relatives, simply raised an eyebrow. "I did. Because I'm her doctor, and unlike WebMD, I actually went to medical school."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Nurse_Anna: OMGOMGOMG IT'S HAPPENING Boo_CEO: The TENSION! The DRAMA! Won_NOT_involved: I'm literally just trying to do my job here Rich_Granny_Han: Time for my award-winning performance! Won_NOT_involved: Please don't mess with the monitors again... Rich_Granny_Han: Too late! Nurse_Anna: Babe just enjoy the show Won_NOT_involved: I still have other patients Rich_Granny_Han: Shush, love is happening Won_NOT_involved: That's not how nursing works... Rich_Granny_Han: It is in Suite 520 😘

The cardiac monitor suddenly started beeping. Wonwoo shot Granny a look that clearly said "I know what you did," but professionally checked the readings anyway.

"Oh dear," Granny fluttered a hand over her heart. "All this tension... it's affecting my poor heart..."

Y/N and Jeonghan immediately stopped arguing, their professional and filial instincts kicking in respectively.

"Blood pressure's a bit elevated," Wonwoo reported dutifully, while Anna practically vibrated with excitement beside him.

"Maybe," Y/N suggested dryly, "certain people could be less dramatic during your recovery period."

"Maybe," Jeonghan countered, "certain doctors could be more communicative about medical decisions."

The monitor beeped again.

"Children, please," Granny's voice was weak but somehow carried perfect emotional manipulation. "Wonwoo, be a dear and get me some water? And Anna, I need my pills... the ones in the far cabinet..."

Both nurses recognized a dismissal when they heard one. As they left (Anna practically dragging Wonwoo), their phones buzzed:

Rich_Granny_Han: Mission proceeding perfectly! Phase 1 complete! Nurse_Anna: They're so cute when they're angry! Boo_CEO: OMW with premium drama fuel (coffee)! Won_NOT_involved: Can we please just have one normal patient? Rich_Granny_Han: No ❤️

Left alone with the feuding doctor and CFO, Granny settled in to watch the show. Her "concerned grandmother" facade barely concealing her glee.

"Since you're so invested in your grandmother's care," Y/N's voice dripped with professional sarcasm, "let me explain the medication changes in terms even a CFO can understand."

Jeonghan's perfectly maintained eyebrow twitched. "Please do. Use small words for us non-Harvard graduates."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: The sexual tension! I can't breathe! Nurse_Anna: Should I come back with the oxygen? Rich_Granny_Han: No dear, that was metaphorical Won_NOT_involved: Thank god, the paperwork for unnecessary oxygen... Boo_CEO: INCOMING with reinforcements! And bubble tea! Rich_Granny_Han: Perfect timing!

The suite's door burst open again, revealing Seungkwan balancing a tray of expensive bubble tea and wearing a suit that rivaled Jeonghan's.

"Halmoni!" he sang out, then dramatically gasped at the scene before him. "Oh my, am I interrupting something?"

"Perfect timing, Seungkwan-ah," Granny's voice somehow conveyed both frailty and mischief. "Stay and help me understand the doctor's explanation. My old heart would feel better with more family present."

Y/N watched as her simple medical consultation turned into what felt like a business presentation, complete with:

One overdressed CFO pretending to take notes while actually googling medical terms

His equally overdressed best friend providing dramatic gasps as punctuation

Two nurses who kept finding excuses to check the monitors

And a grandmother whose "heart symptoms" seemed suspiciously tied to whenever her grandson and doctor moved closer together

"So," Y/N concluded her explanation, "any questions about the medication changes?"

"Just one," Jeonghan smiled his business smile. "Where did you get your coffee? You seem to run on it as much as I do."

Before Y/N could respond, three things happened simultaneously:

The cardiac monitor beeped enthusiastically

Seungkwan choked on his bubble tea

Anna materialized with a coffee menu from the hospital's premium cafe

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Nurse_Anna: CODE COFFEE! I repeat, CODE COFFEE! Boo_CEO: Their first potential coffee date! I'm crying 😭 Won_NOT_involved: This isn't what medical codes are for... Rich_Granny_Han: Wonwoo, go get me a cardiac reading Won_NOT_involved: Your heart is fine Rich_Granny_Han: Not for my heart, for the drama Won_NOT_involved: sigh

"Oh, speaking of coffee," Granny perked up with suspicious energy for someone supposedly weak, "Jeonghan-ah, that fancy machine you brought me is too complicated. Maybe Dr. Y/N could help you figure it out?"

Y/N looked at the state-of-the-art espresso machine in the corner – probably worth more than her monthly salary. Jeonghan was already moving toward it with the confidence of a man who thought knowing how to make coffee was a personality trait.

"I only drink americanos," Y/N stated firmly.

"What a coincidence," Seungkwan stage-whispered, "that's Jeonghan's favorite too!"

The monitor beeped again.

"That's it," Y/N turned to Wonwoo, "please check the monitor's sensitivity."

"Oh, it's very sensitive," Wonwoo muttered, then quickly added at Granny's sharp look, "I'll... run some tests."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: Progress report!

Coffee connection established ✓

Mutual annoyance at peak levels ✓

Jeonghan fixed his hair 3 times ✓

Doctor checked her reflection in the monitor ✓

Boo_CEO: THE EXCELLENCE OF THIS PLOT Nurse_Anna: Should I accidentally spill something so they have to move closer? Won_NOT_involved: NO Rich_Granny_Han: Save that for tomorrow dear Won_NOT_involved: Why am I even reading this chat... Nurse_Anna: Because you love me 😘 Won_NOT_involved: Accurate. Always will be accurate. Rich_Granny_Han: Simp

"Dr. Y/N," Granny called out sweetly, "your afternoon must be busy. Why don't you take some coffee with you? Jeonghan makes excellent americanos."

"I'm quite capable of getting my own coffee, thank you," Y/N replied professionally.

"Are you?" Jeonghan smirked, already starting the machine. "Because that hospital cafe americano you're holding looks tragic."

Y/N looked at her cup, then at his perfectly pressed suit, then at her patient charts. Pride warred with caffeine addiction.

Caffeine won.

"Fine. One coffee. Purely for professional courtesy."

"Of course," Jeonghan's smile was far too satisfied. "Professional courtesy."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: DAY ONE SUCCESS! Nurse_Anna: They're so cute I'm gonna cry Boo_CEO: Already planning the wedding Won_NOT_involved: It's literally just coffee Rich_Granny_Han: Oh sweet summer child Nurse_Anna: Babe, you're so innocent Won_NOT_involved: I hate this family Rich_Granny_Han: No you don't Won_NOT_involved: No, I don't, but I want it noted that I complained and I love Anna, I want it highlighted in the note that I love Anna. Nurse_Anna: I love you! Rich_Granny_Han: This is a Jeonghan fic.

As Y/N left with her admittedly perfect americano, Granny Han settled back against her pillows with a satisfied smile. Phase one was complete. Tomorrow, they'd begin Code: "Accidental Touch."

Poor Y/N and Jeonghan had no idea what they were in for.

- Y/N arrived at the hospital the next morning to find a paper cup from an expensive coffee shop sitting on her office desk. Next to it was a note in pretentiously perfect handwriting:

"Since your taste in coffee is as questionable as your medication choices. - JH"

She crumpled the note, then uncrumpled it, then took a sip of the coffee.

Damn. It was perfect.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Nurse_Anna: COFFEE SPOTTED! Code: Caffeine Love is go! Rich_Granny_Han: Did she drink it?? Nurse_Anna: She tried to look angry but I saw her save the note Boo_CEO: THE ROMANCE Won_NOT_involved: He's basically saying her medical decisions suck Rich_Granny_Han: That's flirting for rich boys, dear Won_NOT_involved: That's terrible Rich_Granny_Han: That's why he’s single

Suite 520 was suspiciously quiet when Y/N entered for morning rounds. Granny was reading what appeared to be a medical textbook – upside down. Anna was "organizing supplies" while obviously watching the door.

"Good morning, Dr. Y/N!" Granny brightened. "Oh my, is that coffee from Angel-in-us? Jeonghan loves that cafe—"

"Your ECG results, Mrs. Han," Y/N interrupted professionally.

The suite's door opened, and Jeonghan walked in wearing a different devastatingly expensive suit. He paused at seeing Y/N with his coffee cup.

"I see you've upgraded your taste," he smirked.

"The coffee's acceptable. Your medical opinions still aren't."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Boo_CEO: THEY'RE FLIRTING THROUGH COFFEE Nurse_Anna: The tension is ART Rich_Granny_Han: Time for some chest pain I think Won_NOT_involved: Please don't Rich_Granny_Han: Too late, clutching chest dramatically now Won_NOT_involved: That's not how heart problems work... Rich_Granny_Han: Watch and learn, child

"Oh!" Granny pressed a hand to her chest. "Such tension... my heart..."

Y/N and Jeonghan both stepped forward, accidentally bumping into each other. Anna dropped a tray with perfect timing.

"Mrs. Han," Y/N began.

"Halmoni," Granny corrected weakly. "You're practically family now that you're sharing coffee with Jeonghan."

Jeonghan choked. Y/N's professional mask cracked slightly.

Later that afternoon, Y/N was reviewing charts when her office door burst open. Jeonghan stood there, waving his phone.

"Your afternoon consult notes say Halmoni's tired," he accused.

"That's generally what 'fatigue' means in medical terms, yes."

"She's never tired. She once conducted a 12-hour board meeting from a yoga headstand."

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose. "Mr. Han—"

"Jeonghan."

"Mr. Han," she emphasized, "normal people get tired. Even chaebol grandmothers."

"She's not normal people. She's—" He paused, noticing her empty coffee cup. "You finished the coffee."

"That's not medically relevant."

"I'll bring you another tomorrow."

"Are you trying to bribe your grandmother's doctor?"

"Is it working?"

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Nurse_Anna: EMERGENCY! They're alone in her office!! Boo_CEO: WHERE ARE THE CAMERAS Rich_Granny_Han: Anna dear, perhaps Dr. Y/N needs some test results? Won_NOT_involved: We don't have any test results Rich_Granny_Han: Then make some Won_NOT_involved: That's literally fraud Rich_Granny_Han: That's literally romance Nurse_Anna: OMW with fake papers! Won_NOT_involved: That's fine, go do your thing babe!

The door flew open again, revealing Anna with a stack of papers. "Dr. Y/N! The results you needed!"

"I didn't order any—"

"Oh look," Anna squinted at the papers, "Mrs. Han's... everything... needs discussing. Right now. With family present."

Y/N looked at the "results". They were coffee-stained printouts of WebMD articles.

Evening rounds found Y/N entering Suite 520 to an unusual scene:

Granny "sleeping" while obviously filming on her phone

Seungkwan pretending to read a magazine (upside down)

Anna adjusting already-perfect monitors

Wonwoo looking like he wanted to transfer departments

And Jeonghan, attempting to understand her morning notes

"That's not how you read an ECG," she said from the doorway.

Jeonghan didn't look up. "I downloaded a medical app."

"WebMD doesn't count."

"This is a different medical app."

"Is it also WebMD in a trench coat?"

A laugh escaped before he could stop it. Y/N pretended not to notice how it transformed his face.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: HE LAUGHED! REAL LAUGH! NOT BUSINESS LAUGH! Boo_CEO: FIRST GENUINE LAUGH IN 84 YEARS Nurse_Anna: They're so cuuuuute Won_NOT_involved: He's still questioning her medical expertise Rich_Granny_Han: Yes but fondly now Nurse_Anna: Babe that's progress Won_NOT_involved: Your standards are concerning Rich_Granny_Han: Shush and help me plan tomorrow's heart episode

Granny "woke up" with perfect timing. "Doctor, since you're teaching Jeonghan medical terms, perhaps over coffee—"

"No," they said simultaneously.

"The heart wants what it wants," Granny sighed dramatically.

The monitor beeped.

"That's it," Y/N turned to Wonwoo, "please check the monitor's sensitivity again."

"It's working exactly as intended," he muttered, then added louder at Granny's look, "I mean, yes, doctor, right away."

As Y/N left for the night, she found another coffee cup on the nurses' station.

The note read: "For your overnight studies on how to be less scary to your patients. - JH"

She definitely didn't smile. And if she did, no one could prove it.

Except maybe the CCTV footage Wonwoo was pretending not to save for Anna’s enjoyment.

- Late that night, Y/N was finishing her paperwork when she decided to check on Granny one last time. It definitely had nothing to do with the possibility of running into a certain annoying CFO.

She found Suite 520's lights dimmed, but not dark. Jeonghan was there, suit jacket off, sleeves rolled up, squinting at a medical textbook like it had personally offended him.

"That's upside down," she said from the doorway.

He didn't even flinch. "I'm teaching myself to read medical terms in all directions. Very professional."

"Is that what CFOs do in their spare time?"

"Only the dashingly handsome ones."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Nurse_Anna: NIGHT SHIFT ALERT! They're alone! Boo_CEO: At this hour??? SCANDALOUS Rich_Granny_Han: pretending to sleep but recording everything Won_NOT_involved: Isn't anyone concerned about patient privacy? Rich_Granny_Han: Privacy is for people who aren't trying to get grandchildren Nurse_Anna: LMAO GRANNY Won_NOT_involved: I'm reporting this chat to HR Rich_Granny_Han: I own HR, dear. Keep up!

"Your grandmother's readings are stable," Y/N said professionally, checking the monitors. "Though someone keeps adjusting the sensitivity."

"Shocking," Jeonghan deadpanned, watching her work. "Almost as shocking as you being here at," he checked his Cartier watch, "11 PM?"

"I'm dedicated to my patients."

"Just my grandmother, or do you check on everyone this late?"

"Are you implying something, Mr. Han?"

"Jeonghan," he corrected. "And I'm implying you might be as obsessed with my grandmother as I am. It's okay, she has that effect on people."

From the bed, Granny let out a very fake snore.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: The snore was too much wasn't it Boo_CEO: Oscar worthy, Halmoni! Nurse_Anna: Should I create an emergency? Won_NOT_involved: NO Rich_Granny_Han: Save the emergencies for tomorrow Won_NOT_involved: Why are all of you like this? Nurse_Anna: Because we're invested in love Won_NOT_involved: We're invested in medical care Rich_Granny_Han: Why not both?

Y/N was about to leave when Jeonghan spoke again. "I ordered every cardiology textbook available."

"I noticed. The coffee table looks like a medical library exploded."

"I'm trying to understand." He sounded almost sincere. "She's all I have left."

Y/N paused at the door. "Your grandmother is in good hands, Mr. Han."

"Jeonghan."

"Mr. Han."

He smiled. A real one, not his business smile. "You're going to slip up and call me Jeonghan eventually."

"Unlikely."

"Want to bet? Loser buys coffee."

"That would be unprofessional."

"Is that a no?"

Y/N left without answering, but they both knew she was smiling.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: They're FLIRTING Boo_CEO: Through MEDICAL TERMS Nurse_Anna: I'M SCREAMING Won_NOT_involved: This is a hospital, please don't scream Rich_Granny_Han: Wonwoo dear, did you get all that on camera? Won_NOT_involved: ...maybe Nurse_Anna: BABE YOU'RE FINALLY HELPING Won_NOT_involved: It's for medical documention. Rich_Granny_Han: Sure it is, dear. Sure it is. Won_NOT_involved: fine, it’s for Anna. Rich_Granny_Han: BLESSED

The next morning, Y/N found not one but two coffee cups on her desk.

First note: "For accepting that 'Mr. Han' will eventually become 'Jeonghan' - JH"

Second note: "For when you inevitably throw the first one at my head - JH"

She was not charmed. She absolutely was not.

But she kept both notes.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Nurse_Anna: SHE KEPT THE NOTES Boo_CEO: Not just kept - she SMILED Rich_Granny_Han: Time to escalate. Anna dear, remember that 'emergency' we planned? Won_NOT_involved: Oh no Rich_Granny_Han: Oh YES Boo_CEO: WHAT EMERGENCY?? Won_NOT_involved: I don't want to know Rich_Granny_Han: Trust me, this will be fun Won_NOT_involved: Your definition of fun concerns me Nurse_Anna: Babe just embrace the chaos Won_NOT_involved: I miss my old department Rich_Granny_Han: No you don't. Now, about tomorrow's plan… -

3 AM at Seoul National University Hospital was typically quiet. Tonight, however...

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: Places everyone! Code: Emergency Romance begins! Boo_CEO: At 3AM?? You're evil, Halmoni Rich_Granny_Han: Evil? No. Strategic? Yes. Nurse_Anna: Night shift ready! Won_NOT_involved: This is highly unethical Rich_Granny_Han: Wonwoo dear, just make sure the lights are dimmed romantically Won_NOT_involved: That's not a medical setting Rich_Granny_Han: It is in Suite 520

The cardiac monitor in Suite 520 suddenly went off – louder than strictly necessary. Wonwoo, who was genuinely checking vitals, jumped.

"Halmoni, what did you—"

"Call Dr. Y/N," Granny commanded, looking far too alert for 3 AM. "And someone call my grandson."

"Your readings are actually fine—"

"Wonwoo." Granny's sweet smile held steel. "Make. The. Calls."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Nurse_Anna: Y/N's on her way! Night shift said she was doing paperwork anyway Boo_CEO: At 3AM?? She needs a life Rich_Granny_Han: She needs my grandson Won_NOT_involved: She needs sleep, actually Rich_Granny_Han: Details, details

Y/N arrived first, looking surprisingly put-together for the ungodly hour. Her white coat was pristine, but the six empty coffee cups on her desk told their own story.

"Mrs. Han, what's—"

"HALMONI!"

Jeonghan burst in, designer pajamas under a hastily thrown-on coat, hair actually messy for once.

"You called him too?" Y/N raised an eyebrow at the nurses.

"Hospital protocol," Anna said solemnly. Wonwoo suddenly found the ceiling very interesting.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Boo_CEO: HIS HAIR IS MESSY THIS IS NOT A DRILL Nurse_Anna: Y/N definitely noticed 👀 Rich_Granny_Han: Time for my performance~ Won_NOT_involved: Please don't Rich_Granny_Han: Too late!

"Oh, my heart," Granny clutched her chest dramatically. "Such worry in young faces..."

"Your readings are actually—" Wonwoo started.

"SUCH WORRY," Granny repeated louder. "Perhaps if you both stayed..."

Y/N was already checking the monitors. Jeonghan hovered nearby, close enough that she could smell his ridiculously expensive cologne.

"Your grandmother is fine, Mr. Han."

"Jeonghan."

"Your grandmother is fine, Mr. Han."

"You're doing this on purpose now."

"I don't know what you mean, Mr. Han."

His laugh was soft, unguarded. Different from his business laugh.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Nurse_Anna: THE SOFT LAUGH!! AT 3AM!! Boo_CEO: THEY'RE STANDING SO CLOSE Rich_Granny_Han: Anna dear, dim the lights more Won_NOT_involved: That's not safe Rich_Granny_Han: Love isn't safe Won_NOT_involved: That's not medical protocol Rich_Granny_Han: Suite 520 has its own protocols

"Doctor," Granny's voice was weak but her eyes sparkled. "Since you're both here, perhaps some coffee?"

"At 3 AM?" Y/N asked.

"I brought my own beans," Jeonghan offered, then caught himself. "I mean, I happen to have some in my car."

"You just happen to have premium coffee beans in your car at 3 AM?"

"A good CFO is always prepared."

"For middle-of-the-night coffee emergencies?"

"Especially those."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Boo_CEO: HE KEEPS COFFEE FOR HER IN HIS CAR Nurse_Anna: I'M CRYING THIS IS SO CUTE Rich_Granny_Han: Phase 1 success. Anna, initiate phase 2 Won_NOT_involved: There are phases?? Rich_Granny_Han: Of course dear, this is a military operation Nurse_Anna: On it! accidentally spilling water now Won_NOT_involved: Why did I fall in love with a conspirator

"Oh!" Anna's theatrical gasp preceded the sound of water splashing.

Y/N and Jeonghan jumped apart – when had they gotten so close? – only to bump into each other again.

"Sorry, let me—" Jeonghan reached for napkins.

"No, I can—" Y/N moved at the same time.

Their hands touched. Both froze.

Granny's monitor beeped suspiciously fast.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: THE HAND TOUCH!!! Boo_CEO: THIS IS BETTER THAN DRAMAS Nurse_Anna: Should I spill more water?? Won_NOT_involved: NO Rich_Granny_Han: Save it for next time Won_NOT_involved: There's a next time?? Rich_Granny_Han: Oh honey, we're just getting started

"Well," Y/N cleared her throat professionally. "Since your grandmother is stable, I should—"

"Stay for coffee," Jeonghan said quickly. "I mean, since we're both awake anyway."

"That would be unprofessional."

"Everything about this situation is unprofessional."

Y/N glanced at Granny (pretending to sleep), Anna (badly hiding her phone), and Wonwoo (looking like he wanted witness protection).

"One coffee," she conceded. "For medical alertness purposes."

"Of course," Jeonghan's smile was too knowing. "Purely medical."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Boo_CEO: COFFEE DATE AT 3AM Nurse_Anna: Romance is ALIVE Rich_Granny_Han: Mission accomplished! Won_NOT_involved: It's just coffee Rich_Granny_Han: Oh sweet summer child Nurse_Anna: Babe you're so innocent Won_NOT_involved: I want a department transfer Rich_Granny_Han: Denied. Now help me plan tomorrow Won_NOT_involved: ...what's tomorrow? Rich_Granny_Han: You'll see 😈

As Y/N and Jeonghan sat in the suite's sitting area, sharing premium coffee at 3 AM while pretending this was normal, Granny Han smiled in her "sleep."

Phase one of Operation Emergency Romance was complete.

Poor kids had no idea what she had planned for breakfast.

- Several hours and many coffees later, sunrise found the suite in a different state:

Y/N curled up in an armchair, white coat slightly rumpled

Jeonghan asleep on the couch, designer pajamas and all

Files spread between them from their "purely professional discussion"

Two empty coffee cups with a concerning number of espresso shots

Granny, definitely not sleeping, taking photos for her secret Instagram

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: THEY FELL ASLEEP IN MY SUITE Boo_CEO: TOGETHER????? Nurse_Anna: Not together together but STILL Won_NOT_involved: This violates at least 5 hospital policies Rich_Granny_Han: Love violates all policies Nurse_Anna: Time for noisy morning check-up? 😈 Rich_Granny_Han: Make it EXTRA noisy

Anna burst into the suite with maximum chaos energy, deliberately dropping a metal tray.

The effect was immediate:

Y/N jolted awake, doctor mode activating

Jeonghan fell off the couch, rich person grace temporarily absent

Granny quickly pretended to just wake up

Wonwoo, entering behind Anna, looked like he wanted to quit

"Good morning!" Anna sang, far too cheerfully. "Time for morning vitals!"

Y/N and Jeonghan stared at each other, then at their wrinkled clothes, then at the evidence of their all-night coffee session.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Boo_CEO: THE MORNING AFTER CHAOS Nurse_Anna: Y/N's hair is messy I repeat MESSY Rich_Granny_Han: Quick! Someone get a breakfast cart! Won_NOT_involved: The hospital doesn't do breakfast carts Rich_Granny_Han: The VIP floor does now Won_NOT_involved: Since when?? Rich_Granny_Han: Since I ordered it 5 minutes ago Boo_CEO: ALREADY ON IT WITH PREMIUM BREAKFAST

"I should..." Y/N stood, attempting to smooth her coat.

"Yeah, I need to..." Jeonghan ran a hand through his messy hair.

"Oh, but breakfast is coming!" Granny perked up. "You both must be hungry after staying up all night... discussing medical things."

The way she said "medical things" made both of them blush.

Right on cue, Seungkwan waltzed in pushing a cart laden with what looked like a five-star hotel breakfast spread.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Boo_CEO: Breakfast service has arrived~ Nurse_Anna: They're both so awkward I'M LIVING Rich_Granny_Han: Wonwoo dear, check my heart. Make it take a while Won_NOT_involved: That's not how check-ups work Rich_Granny_Han: It is if you want that Christmas bonus Won_NOT_involved: ...this might take a while, doctor

"Since Wonwoo needs to do a thorough check-up," Granny smiled innocently, "why don't you both have breakfast? No need to waste good food."

Y/N looked at her wrinkled coat, her empty coffee cups, and her clearly compromised professional boundaries.

Jeonghan looked at his messy hair, his designer pajamas, and his equally compromised chaebol dignity.

"One coffee," they said simultaneously.

"And maybe some toast," Y/N added.

"And those croissants," Jeonghan pointed.

"Purely for energy."

"Completely professional."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: They're having breakfast together! Boo_CEO: In their sleepwear basically!! Nurse_Anna: ROMANCE LEVEL 1000 Won_NOT_involved: This is still a hospital Rich_Granny_Han: No, this is Suite 520, different rules apply Won_NOT_involved: That's not how hospitals work Rich_Granny_Han: Watch and learn, child

As they awkwardly settled with their breakfast, maintaining a careful distance that fooled absolutely no one, Granny spoke up.

"You know, Jeonghan-ah, Dr. Y/N's americano is getting cold."

Jeonghan immediately reached for the coffee machine.

"And doctor, Jeonghan skipped dinner last night. He should eat more than croissants."

Y/N found herself pushing the egg dishes closer to him.

They caught each other's eyes, realized they were being played, and quickly looked away.

But not before small smiles appeared.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Nurse_Anna: THE SOFT SMILES Boo_CEO: While sharing breakfast!! Rich_Granny_Han: Young love is so beautiful Won_NOT_involved: It's been like 3 days Rich_Granny_Han: Time moves faster in Suite 520 Nurse_Anna: It's the power of love Won_NOT_involved: It's the power of sleep deprivation Rich_Granny_Han: Same thing dear, same thing

The peaceful breakfast was interrupted by Y/N's pager.

"I need to..." she stood quickly.

"Right, I should..." Jeonghan also rose.

They did an awkward dance trying to avoid bumping into each other, failed miserably, and ended up closer than ever.

"Thanks for the medical discussion," Y/N said professionally.

"Thanks for the coffee company," Jeonghan replied, equally formal.

Neither moved.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: Anna! Emergency cart in the hallway! Nurse_Anna: On it! Won_NOT_involved: Please don't crash any carts Rich_Granny_Han: Just a small crash Won_NOT_involved: That's still property damage Rich_Granny_Han: That's still romance

The sudden crash from the hallway made them jump apart. Y/N hurried out, professionalism back in place.

Jeonghan watched her go, then turned to find everyone staring at him.

"What?"

"Nothing," Granny smiled innocently. "You just look happy this morning."

"It was the coffee."

"Sure it was, dear. Sure it was."

As Jeonghan left to change, Granny turned to her squad:

"Phase 2 complete. Now, about that charity gala next week..."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: Meeting in 10 minutes. We have a gala to plan Boo_CEO: Will there be drama?? Rich_Granny_Han: Oh honey, there will be CHAOS Won_NOT_involved: Why do I feel scared Nurse_Anna: Because you should be 😘 Rich_Granny_Han: Wonwoo dear, you haven't seen anything yet Won_NOT_involved: ...can I transfer departments now? Rich_Granny_Han: Denied. Now, about those formal invitations...

- Y/N stared at her desk in growing concern. Over the past week, a pattern had emerged:

Monday's coffee: "For admitting medical school doesn't teach everything - JH" Tuesday's coffee: "For finally calling me Jeonghan (in your sleep) - JH" Wednesday's coffee: "For pretending you don't smile at my notes - JH" Thursday's coffee: "Because your coffee machine is beneath you - JH" Today's coffee: "Because it's becoming a habit - JH"

She definitely didn't keep all the notes. And she absolutely wasn't smiling.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Nurse_Anna: WEEK RECAP:

Daily coffee delivery ✓

She keeps all notes ✓

Stopped throwing them away ✓

Actually smiles now ✓

Boo_CEO: CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT Rich_Granny_Han: Time to escalate Won_NOT_involved: What's left to escalate?? Rich_Granny_Han: Oh honey, we're just getting started Won_NOT_involved: That's what I'm afraid of

Suite 520 had evolved over the week. Somehow, it now contained:

A premium coffee station (restocked daily)

Medical textbooks (some actually right-side up)

Two comfortable chairs (suspiciously close together)

Granny's "essential" medical monitoring equipment (mostly for show)

Anna's "work station" (definitely for spying)

Y/N entered for morning rounds to find Jeonghan already there, suit perfect despite the early hour.

"You're here early, Mr. Han."

"We're back to Mr. Han? After I brought you coffee all week?"

"Medical ethics don't run on caffeine, Mr. Han."

"Are you sure? Because your smile says otherwise, Doctor."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: The TENSION Boo_CEO: He emphasized 'Doctor' I'M SCREAMING Nurse_Anna: Should I interrupt with vitals?? Rich_Granny_Han: No dear, let them flirt Won_NOT_involved: This is a hospital Rich_Granny_Han: This is Suite 520 Won_NOT_involved: That's not a real distinction Rich_Granny_Han: Tell that to my platinum card

"Children," Granny called out, "if you're done with your coffee courtship—"

"Medical discussion," Y/N corrected quickly.

"Professional interaction," Jeonghan said simultaneously.

"—perhaps we could discuss my discharge?"

Both turned to her so fast they got whiplash.

"Discharge?" Y/N frowned.

"Halmoni, no," Jeonghan started.

"Well," Granny smiled innocently, "unless you think I need more... observation?"

The way she said 'observation' made it clear she wasn't talking about medical monitoring.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Boo_CEO: THE POWER MOVE Nurse_Anna: Halmoni playing 4D chess!! Rich_Granny_Han: Watch and learn children Won_NOT_involved: This is manipulation Rich_Granny_Han: This is ROMANCE Won_NOT_involved: Same thing in this family Rich_Granny_Han: Now you're getting it!

"Your latest tests..." Y/N began professionally.

"Show you need more monitoring," Jeonghan finished.

They stared at each other, surprised by the agreement.

"Oh?" Granny's eyes twinkled. "Both of you think so?"

"Medically speaking," Y/N clarified.

"From a family perspective," Jeonghan added.

"And it has nothing to do with morning coffee?"

"Halmoni!" they protested simultaneously.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: They're in sync!! Boo_CEO: SOULMATES BEHAVIOR Nurse_Anna: Even their denial is synchronized! Won_NOT_involved: This is getting out of hand Rich_Granny_Han: No dear, this is getting interesting Won_NOT_involved: Those aren't mutually exclusive Rich_Granny_Han: Shush and help me plan the gala seating

The tension was broken by Seungkwan bursting in, designer suit somehow even more expensive than Jeonghan's.

"Emergency!" he announced dramatically.

"Medical?" Y/N reached for her pager.

"Fashion!" Seungkwan held up a tablet. "Halmoni, the hospital charity gala needs your approval on—oh, am I interrupting something?"

His innocent tone fooled exactly no one.

"The charity gala?" Y/N blinked.

"Oh yes," Granny perked up. "Doctor, you'll be attending of course? As my physician?"

"I don't usually—"

"And Jeonghan needs a plus-one—"

"Halmoni!"

"—for medical supervision, of course."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: PHASE GALA: INITIATED Boo_CEO: I already called the designers! Nurse_Anna: Need volunteers for the medical team?? Won_NOT_involved: We're not all going Rich_Granny_Han: Check your email dear Won_NOT_involved: ...we're all going Nurse_Anna: YAY BABE! We can coordinate! Won_NOT_involved: I want a new job Rich_Granny_Han: Denied. Now about those table arrangements...

"I couldn't possibly—" Y/N started.

"It would be unprofessional—" Jeonghan began.

"Perfect!" Granny clapped. "Seungkwan, mark them down as attending."

"Already done, Halmoni!"

"I didn't agree—" Y/N protested.

"My heart would feel so much better knowing my doctor is there," Granny clutched her chest dramatically.

The monitor, naturally, beeped.

"This is manipulation," Jeonghan noted.

"Learned from the best, dear."

Y/N looked at her patient (scheming), her monitor (suspicious), and her growing headache (definitely real).

"One hour," she conceded. "For medical supervision only."

"Of course," Granny smiled sweetly. "Seungkwan, call the designers. The doctor needs a gown."

"Already on it!"

"Wait, what—"

But Seungkwan was already speed-dialing, Granny was looking triumphant, and Jeonghan...

Jeonghan was looking at her like he wouldn't mind being supervised. Medically speaking, of course.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: Operation Gala: Phase 1 complete Boo_CEO: Designers on standby! Nurse_Anna: Medical team assembled! Won_NOT_involved: This is excessive Rich_Granny_Han: No dear, this is just the beginning Won_NOT_involved: That's what I'm afraid of Rich_Granny_Han: Don't worry, it gets worse Won_NOT_involved: How is that reassuring?? Rich_Granny_Han: It's not. Now, about those dance lessons...

Suite 520 had transformed into Gala Planning Headquarters. Somehow, between cardiac monitoring equipment and medical charts, there were now:

Three tablets showing designer collections

Fabric swatches spread across medical equipment

Seating charts mixed with ECG readings

Event planners trying to look like medical consultants

And Granny, orchestrating chaos from her hospital bed

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: Status report!

Venue: Hospital Grand Hall

Theme: "Hearts of Gold" (get it? 😉)

Seating: Y/N next to Jeonghan (medical purposes)

Dance floor: Strategically lit

Boo_CEO: The THEME I'M DYING Nurse_Anna: Should we coordinate the medical team's outfits?? Won_NOT_involved: We're supposed to be working Rich_Granny_Han: This IS work. Love work.

Y/N entered for afternoon rounds to find what looked like a fashion magazine explosion.

"Mrs. Han, this isn't good for your recovery—"

"Nonsense," Granny waved a fabric swatch. "Doctor, which shade of blue brings out Jeonghan's eyes?"

"I... what?"

"For medical coordination purposes, of course."

From behind his laptop, Jeonghan choked on his coffee.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Boo_CEO: SHE'S BLUSHING Nurse_Anna: AND HE'S CHOKING Rich_Granny_Han: Young love is so clumsy Won_NOT_involved: This is a medical facility Rich_Granny_Han: This is a love facility Won_NOT_involved: That's not a thing Rich_Granny_Han: It is in Suite 520

"Halmoni," Jeonghan tried, "perhaps the doctor doesn't want to—"

"Navy," Y/N said suddenly, then looked mortified.

"What?"

"Navy blue. For medical... contrast purposes."

Jeonghan's slow smile should be illegal in a hospital setting.

"Noted," Granny's eyes sparkled. "Seungkwan! Call the designer!"

"Already texting!"

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: SHE PICKED HIS COLOR Boo_CEO: VOLUNTARILY Nurse_Anna: THE DEVELOPMENT Won_NOT_involved: It's just a color Rich_Granny_Han: Oh sweet summer child Nurse_Anna: Babe you're so innocent Won_NOT_involved: I miss regular patients Rich_Granny_Han: No you don't. Now about the dance playlist...

Later that day, Y/N returned to find Jeonghan arguing with event planners while wearing... navy blue.

"It's for a medical opinion," he said quickly.

"I didn't ask."

"You're wondering."

"I'm wondering about your grandmother's blood pressure with all this excitement."

"Liar. You're wondering how accurate your color assessment was."

She checked Granny's monitors instead of answering. Or looking at how right she'd been about the navy blue.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: HE CHANGED SUITS FOR HER Boo_CEO: THE DEDICATION Nurse_Anna: She kept stealing glances!! Won_NOT_involved: I saw nothing Rich_Granny_Han: The security cameras saw everything Won_NOT_involved: ...I may have footage Nurse_Anna: BABE YOU'RE ONE OF US NOW Won_NOT_involved: I hate everything except you Rich_Granny_Han: No you don't. Now help me plan the "medical emergency" during the slow dance

"Doctor," Granny called out sweetly, "about the gala's medical supervision..."

"One hour," Y/N reminded firmly.

"Of course. Jeonghan will pick you up at 7."

"That's not necessary—"

"For medical transport," Granny added innocently.

"I can drive—"

"My heart would feel better knowing you arrive safely."

The monitor beeped right on cue.

"Halmoni," Jeonghan sighed, but he was smiling.

"Fine," Y/N conceded. "For medical purposes."

"Of course," Granny beamed. "Seungkwan! Call the car service!"

"Already done!"

"How are you already—never mind."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: Car arrangements: Complete ✓

Premium vehicle

Mood lighting

"Accidental" traffic delays

Boo_CEO: EVIL GENIUS HALMONI Nurse_Anna: The POWER Won_NOT_involved: This is getting elaborate Rich_Granny_Han: Oh honey, wait for the gala Won_NOT_involved: I'm scared Rich_Granny_Han: You should be. Anna dear, about those dance floor spotlights...

As Y/N left for her rounds, she found a new coffee on the nurses' station.

The note read: "Navy blue does bring out my eyes. Good medical observation. - JH"

She didn't smile.

(The security footage Wonwoo definitely wasn't collecting said otherwise.)

- Two months after Code: Heart Doctor began, Suite 520 was in organized chaos:

Discharge papers waiting for signatures

Gift baskets from the entire hospital staff

Granny's designer luggage (more than a small hotel's worth)

The infamous coffee machine

And a certain cardiologist avoiding a certain CFO

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: FINAL MISSION STATUS:

Two months of schemes ✓

One charity gala success ✓

Multiple "emergencies" ✓

Countless coffee dates ✓

One almost kiss ✓

BUT STILL NO CONFESSION

Boo_CEO: HOW ARE THEY SO STUBBORN Nurse_Anna: Even the cafeteria's betting pool is frustrated Won_NOT_involved: Maybe let them figure it out naturally? Rich_Granny_Han: Absolutely not Won_NOT_involved: Why did I even suggest that Rich_Granny_Han: Time for the final play

Y/N stood at the nurses' station, pretending to review charts while actually hiding. The past two months had been... complicated.

After the gala (which definitely didn't end with an almost-kiss during Granny's conveniently timed "emergency"), things had gotten awkward.

Sweet, terrible, coffee-filled awkward.

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Nurse_Anna: She's HIDING Boo_CEO: Our confident doctor? HIDING? Rich_Granny_Han: Love makes fools of us all Won_NOT_involved: Or maybe this whole scheme was too much Rich_Granny_Han: No such thing Won_NOT_involved: Why did I marry into this chaos Nurse_Anna: Because you love me 😘 Won_NOT_involved: TRUE. TRUEST FORM. Rich_Granny_Han: We get it, you love Anna

The suite's door opened, revealing Jeonghan in what had to be his most expensive suit yet. Navy blue, because of course it was.

"Doctor."

"Mr. Han."

"We're back to that?"

"We never left it."

(They both knew that was a lie. Somewhere between late-night coffee and fake emergencies, "Jeonghan" had slipped out more than once.)

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: IMPLEMENT FINAL PHASE Boo_CEO: But what about the backup plan?? Rich_Granny_Han: This IS the backup plan Nurse_Anna: What about backup backup?? Rich_Granny_Han: Trust your commander Won_NOT_involved: Should I be concerned? Rich_Granny_Han: Always, dear. Always.

"Children," Granny called from her bed, "come here please."

They approached cautiously. Two months had taught them to fear that innocent tone.

"Since I'm being discharged—"

"About that," Y/N started.

"Your readings—" Jeonghan began.

"Oh hush," Granny waved them off. "We all know I'm fine. Have been for weeks."

They stared at her.

"You..." Y/N processed this. "You've been faking?"

"Not faking, dear. Strategizing."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Boo_CEO: THE CONFESSION Nurse_Anna: Finally exposing the plot!! Won_NOT_involved: This feels illegal somehow Rich_Granny_Han: Love knows no laws Won_NOT_involved: That's not how legality works Rich_Granny_Han: That's how Suite 520 works

"All those emergencies..." Jeonghan realized.

"The 3 AM calls..." Y/N added.

"The coffee accidents..."

"The gala emergency..."

"The almost—" they both stopped, blushing.

"Yes, yes," Granny smiled. "All part of the plan. Operation Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024."

"The WHAT."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: Dropping the bomb! Boo_CEO: THE CHAOS Nurse_Anna: Should we run?? Won_NOT_involved: I'm already in the cafeteria Rich_Granny_Han: Cowards. Watch the master work

"Halmoni," Jeonghan looked pained. "You've been scheming this whole time?"

"Of course, dear. You think cardiac monitors just happen to beep during romantic moments?"

"The coffee spills..." Y/N remembered.

"Anna has excellent timing."

"The gala emergency..."

"Seungkwan's dramatic skills are underappreciated."

"The security footage..."

"Wonwoo pretends to resist, but he's got quite the collection."

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Boo_CEO: THEY'RE BOTH SO RED Nurse_Anna: The realization!! Won_NOT_involved: Should we call security? Rich_Granny_Han: For what? True love? Won_NOT_involved: For imminent chaos Rich_Granny_Han: That's just how romance works dear

"So everything was fake?" Y/N asked quietly.

"Not everything," Jeonghan said quickly.

They looked at each other.

"The coffee wasn't fake," he continued.

"The medical discussions weren't fake."

"The almost-kiss wasn't fake."

"The feelings weren't fake."

Granny beamed. "Finally!"

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: MISSION SUCCESS Boo_CEO: I'M CRYING Nurse_Anna: WE DID IT Won_NOT_involved: Can we work normally now? Rich_Granny_Han: Oh honey no Rich_Granny_Han: Now we plan the wedding Won_NOT_involved: ...I want a transfer Rich_Granny_Han: Denied.

"You're ridiculous," Y/N told Jeonghan, but she was smiling.

"You love it," he replied, then froze. "I mean—"

"Yeah," she said softly. "I do."

"Oh thank god," Granny exclaimed. "Seungkwan! The champagne!"

"Already chilled!"

"Anna! The celebration decorations!"

"Ready to deploy!"

"Wonwoo! The documentation!"

"...fine."

As Suite 520 erupted into celebration, Y/N looked at Jeonghan.

"Your grandmother is terrifying."

"Wait till you see her wedding planning mode."

"Let's survive the first date first."

"Coffee tomorrow?"

"You've been bringing me coffee for two months."

"Yes, but now I can kiss you after."

From her bed, Granny smiled at her success. As Y/N and Jeonghan shared their first real kiss (finally!), the cardiac monitor beeped one last time.

This time, it was real.

Real love tends to do that to a heart. As Y/N and Jeonghan finally broke apart, the cardiac monitor beeped one last time.

"Your grandmother's monitor is still sensitive," Y/N murmured.

"Actually," Jeonghan smiled, "I think that one was real."

They turned to find Granny beaming at them, not even pretending to sleep anymore.

"Finally!" she exclaimed. "Do you know how exhausting it was to orchestrate all this?"

"Halmoni..."

"The timing of the beeps! The strategic coffee spills! Keeping Wonwoo from reporting us to hospital administration!"

🏥 Get Jeonghan a Girlfriend 2024 !!! 🏥

Rich_Granny_Han: Mission accomplished, everyone! Boo_CEO: The greatest success story of 2024!! Nurse_Anna: I'm crying happy tears in the supply closet Won_NOT_involved: Can we work normally now? Rich_Granny_Han: Of course dear Won_NOT_involved: Really? Rich_Granny_Han: No 😘 Nurse_Anna: Babe you should know better Won_NOT_involved: I really should

"Well," Y/N picked up the discharge papers, trying to look professional despite her smile. "Since your condition has... miraculously improved, Mrs. Han—"

"Still Halmoni," Granny corrected.

"Halmoni," Y/N conceded, her smile growing. "You're free to go home."

"Wonderful! Jeonghan-ah, help me pack. Doctor, you'll join us for dinner to discuss my home care, won't you?"

"That would be—"

"If you say unprofessional, I'm canceling the discharge," Granny threatened sweetly.

Y/N looked at Jeonghan, who shrugged helplessly but couldn't stop smiling.

"Dinner would be lovely," she agreed.

As the suite erupted into celebration, with Seungkwan popping in with champagne and Anna wiping tears while pretending to check vitals one last time, Y/N felt Jeonghan's hand slip into hers.

"Coffee tomorrow?" he asked softly.

"You've been bringing me coffee for two months."

"Yes, but now I can kiss you after."

She squeezed his hand. "Looking forward to it."

From her bed, Granny Han watched her grandson and his cardiologist, her heart monitor beeping steadily with genuine joy. Sometimes, she thought, love just needs a little push.

Or in her case, two months of elaborate schemes, a charity gala, multiple fake emergencies, one almost-kiss, and an army of co-conspirators.

But who's counting?

348 notes · View notes

astracora · 4 months ago

Text

The Cat Curse - MC Edition - Chapter 3

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc (poly lads)

Warnings: Some hurt/lots of comfort, semi-canon compliant heart condition, spoilers for current story release (Small mentions of Sylus bond up to 102 and all of Sylus' currently released content), small references to the other boys stories.

Word Count: 4603

Written: 26th December 2024

Notes: New relationship Sylus/MC-centric but poly LADs (this time with group chat), with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me.

Now Playing: Snuff, by Slipknot

Masterlist

<- Previous

Sylus is learning new things about you.

One, you know far more about flowers than he expected. When asked, you'd told him a friend you'd had since college was 'big into the whole language of flowers thing'.

You'd listened to her talk about it for a long time, picked somethings up, and kept a decent knowledge of it for her. "I was never really good at learning at school, but if I want to know something, I retain way more information than I probably need to." You'd huffed a laugh, shrugging your shoulders like it didn't matter.

Like he didn't watch you constantly learn in order to support and understand those you care for.

Art history to keep up with the fish. Pouring over physics books for the prince. Cardiology books in the kitchen worn and earmarked for the doctor. You'd sit and asked him questions about business and his day to day, as well. He's sure there's books by your bed to help you understand him, part of him is curious. The other part wants to let you piecing him together be a constant surprise.

Two, you and the twins cannot be left alone. Not ever.

He's used to the twins causing chaos wherever he goes, they are full of mischief on their best days. Frankly, he's grown too numb to their antics. Though there are the occasional moments when they surprise him.

Handcuffs, a gun that shoots hearts, and you glaring at him with an unimpressed look.

He'd thanked them, internally, for that particular one. Amusement chasing his heart around for weeks afterwards. Until you'd done something else to amuse, and the cycle continued.

He's glad that your album is being filled out again, so many moments that warm his chest. To have a physical manifestation is tickling. An odd sensation he has no memory of ever having before meeting you.

Sylus does however, wish the three of you would stop vanishing everytime he takes his eyes off you for a moment.

Of all the feline traits he enjoys out of you, your ability to vanish into thin air is not one of them. He regrets not taking your hand, keeping you chained to him, even without the evol link. He'd once sent you a photo, asking if you could spot a cat in his base... this game feels harder, and he finds himself irritable that you are here... together. Surrounded by all manner of flowers, that you can rattle off information about, or lean in, close your pretty eyes and inhale, and he is wandering it alone.

Trying to find a flash of white fur, or hear your voice, a song for him. Or at this point, even spot the twins and their ridiculous crow hoodies. A gift from you for when they need to be outside the N109 zone.

"It's more lowkey, and you'll still be wearing house colours."

He's had to forcibly remove them from the two just to wash them. Lest the smell corrupt his entire base.

It's the poison gardens where he finally finds you, Luke and Kieran are daring each other to eat something, belladonna he learns, and he grabs them both by the scruff to pull them away as he advances on you.

Yet he pauses, as he watches you. Crouched in front of the datura flowers, ears drooping, tail in the dirt, staring at them with eyes that look on the verge of tears.

"You two, don't eat anything." He hisses softly to the twins, who mock salute him before racing off again.

There's a feeling around you like he's looking at stained glass. Tragic and hurting, but beautiful all the same. Perhaps more so. He remembers dreams, and yearnings and all the things he wished he'd had time to say. Or do. He has all the time in the world now, he thinks, and he still wishes he could go back to offer you more than he did.

"Kitten." It's soft, so that when he crouches with you, he doesn't startle your heart. You blink up at him and your eyes are glassy and far away, "What's wrong?"

You reach a hand out to the flower, and he grabs it to pull it back, entwining your fingers. You finally focus back on him, head tilted and trying to clear the daze in your eyes. "I..." eyes darting back to the flowers, "got the strangest feeling."

There's a lump in his throat that he can't get rid of. His mind is playing memories that aren't real memories. A wishful dream shared. So he sits, pulling you over. You're aware enough to remember this is a public place, glancing about and settling into his arms when you realise you're alone. "What about?"

Your fingers twitch against his, and he can see your urge to touch them. It's not like that dream though. Here these flowers can hurt you. "A field of flowers in the mountains..." Your brow creases a little, staring at them with pinned ears and narrowed eyes, like they're holding answers you can't grasp with your hands, "They mean devotion." You finally settle on, looking at him, as your tail wraps around his wrist.

Sylus' chuckle escapes him, through the dull edges of sorrow, and through the sharp stab of relief. He finds your frustration endearing to be sure, yet it's the words said to him with glistening eyes, like he doesn't already know that.

So deep in every bone in his body that if there ever comes a day he forgets those flowers, and your lips on his, even if it was nothing but a daydream, he thinks he'll be truly mad. He only hopes if that day comes, you'll tell him about the flowers again.

You don't remember how his heart changed when you told him those flower suited him. So dangerous, and so beautiful, that you still want to touch them even now. He thinks the sickness he has, a troubled heart that beats for you and a soul that cannot quiet when you are near, is probably his greatest joy in this world.

He feels drawn like a moth to a flame. The man that he is, no horns, no wings and no tail, who cannot relinquish his treasure no matter the cost. For as long as you love and want him, he will seek you out anywhere.

Your eyes dart down to his mouth, hesitating, then up again. He leans towards you, but you are overcome. Holding him, kissing him, purring into his mouth. It is a taste unlike any other, and as he falls back, holding you tight as you kiss and devour and satisfy your hunger, he sees the datura's dancing next to him.

----

You're milling around the gift shop, Luke and Kieran following after with a basket. Though their version of following, you realise, is getting lost in aisles, and yelling at you from across the shop. You've seen some old ladies giving them dirty looks, which while you understand, you do return. Even if you do ask them to be a little quieter.

Which they... kind of take on board. Changing to loud whispers. You do have to remove a few things from the basket, three different types of plant pots you don't really need, five cacti, "They look like boss!", and almost an entire shops worth of fudge.

"Hunter! Can we try that?"

Luke is waving some chilli flavoured honey in your face, and though you can't quite fight the way your nose crunches up at the idea, you put it in the basket.

You wish you could blame the cat curse for your inability to handle a degree of spice, but that's just all you. Even if your tongue is way more sensitive right now.

"Grab a local honey from the counter, the others will want some."

Kieran nods and darts off, while you and Luke browse the chocolate selection.

It's a very serious choice. "Which will Zayne like most?"

Luke gives you a look that says you're a fool for asking, "He'll eat them all too quickly for anyone to see those arty wrappers." You both look at each other and nod, "Except for the carrot one."

So you pick up ones with the prettiest packaging so Raffy can have them for inspiration afterwards, and move onto the seed section. Almost getting barrelled into as Kieran returns with the spoils of war, a too large jar of honey that you're sure won't last long between the lot of you.

The seeds are easy, Xavi will enjoy growing almost anything, but you want to get ones for all of them. It's impossible to buy the datura's you still can't stop thinking about, so as you put cala lilies, forget-me-nots and jasmines in the basket. Along with some snowdrops, daisies and lobelia seeds, you ponder over Sylus. Every flower that comes to mind is as beautiful as it is deadly, and as much as you think he'd appreciate those, he wouldn't appreciate the risk to your health for it.

You think about his hand clasping yours in front of the datura, pulling you back despite the deep pit of yearning in your heart to bury yourself amongst the bright red flowers.

Like you belonged there with them. Like they wouldn't hurt you.

Your hand hovers over the poppy seeds, remembrance for the dead, before you pull away and shake the feeling off. Your tail puffing up and then settling as you try to fight the ghost of a feeling.

"Hunter, what about these, they're cute!" Luke waves a pack of bellflowers at you. You blink at the disruption to your thoughts, and look over at him and Kieran. Matching bird hoods pulled back so they can watch you. You tell yourself it's not pity in their eyes, just concern.

You have to stop thinking the worst.

"Bellflowers..." You dig through your memories but the meaning won't come to you.

Luke turns the packet around and looks at the back, "Says, 'unwavering heart.'" He pulls a face but shoves the packet at you.

"Sounds like boss, unkillable." Kieran adds, nodding to himself.

The words don't sit right with you but you decide not to think about it, and instead take the packet from them, they're not wrong. He certainly is unwavering, so you put them in the basket, and grab some gomphrena.

As you walk away with the twins, your feet stop. Turning back around, you grab the poppy seeds.

Caleb deserves flowers too.

-------

Sylus had been forced to stand outside the shop, if you hadn't, you think he would have bought the shop with how long you and the twins were looking through everything. Plus, you'd wanted to surprise him for once. He expected everything, had a plan for everything, was impossible to sneak up on. Even with all your training, you'd never got the upper hand with the man.

You'd even tried teaming up with Xavi, much to Sy's amusement. He'd hefted you up, catching you easily, and had kissed his affection to both of your heads before heading off to a meeting. Laughing to himself as he went.

Xavier had looked at you with a new commitment in his eyes, you both would get the crow.

Today wouldn't be any different, you know that. Staring at his figure leaning against the wall as you leave the shop. Twins in tow, who are shoving their fingers in honey they didn't even wait to leave the shop to start on. You made a note to get them a dentist appointment... you're pretty sure they've never been.

Sylus is the picture of untouchable beauty, just like the datura. His eyes don't dart around but you know he's clocking everything around him. Ready if he needs to be, tracking escape routes if necessary. You're sure you've never seen him truly relax anywhere but at home. Even then it took a while before he moved the gun from under the pillow to the side cabinet.

You shush the twins, fangs gleaming, and they nod, hanging back as you pull your tail close and press your ears back against your head. Creeping forward, closer, closer, almost-

"Are you done kitten?"

He doesn't even turn to look at you, but his voice is soft with laughter, and you droop a little. "Do you have ears in your back?"

"Just very good ears on my head, beloved. I can tell your footsteps from anywhere." He reaches behind him to take the bag from your metal hand, and then takes your other one in his. Running his thumb over the skin. "So I can always know where you are." Is pressed into the side of your head with a kiss, and you nuzzle him, then pull away as the twins clear their throats.

"Want some honey, boss?"

Sylus screws up his nose as they offer it to him with sticky hands. "How old are you two?"

"Never too old for honey."

He rubs the space between his eyes and decides not to fight that battle, or explain his question. "What did you get, besides a sugar crash for the twins?"

You hesitate for a moment, he's looking at you and not at the bag. Asking permission to peek, wanting you to set or rescind boundaries at will.

You lean into his side as the four of you begin to walk, and nod, "Gifts." He looks down into it, "Seeds... so we can grow them together." His fingers twitch against yours in your grasp, and his eyes lighten and burn as he looks at your offerings.

"And." You pull his hand, hesitating, he stops and turns, and you take a box out of your pocket, almost stuffing it into his chest with how you hand it over. He places the bag down gently, so he doesn't have to release your hand, and opens it. Nestled amongst some craft paper is a hand woven bracelet with a white cat charm. "For you." Your fangs dig into your bottom lip, you taste the nerves and the blood and part of your brain begs you to pull out of his grasp.

Run away.

It was such a silly purchase. He can buy anything why would he-

He's kissing you, warmth on your lips, and hand holding the bracelet against your neck, the grip on your hand is tight and firm. Like he never plans to release you. Not now, not ever. It grounds your nerves, chases away the anxiety, the traitorous voice.

He tastes sweet, and for a dull moment you wonder if he did take the twins honey, before your brain empties, and you let him pull you into the abyss with him.

His smile is still against your lips when you come up for air, but he doesn't pull away, and when you blink your eyes open, he's a burning pyre of beautiful red eyes and shock of white messy hair. He licks his lips, looking at you like he wants to eat you whole. Eyes slightly wet.

"Beautiful." You exhale, prosthetic hand tracing his cheek where he flushes softly.

"Thank you." Sylus speaks, and for a moment you wonder if he will cry, but he simply kisses you once more, sighing into your mouth, and tasting your own.

--------

Work can't seem to wait, as much as he wants to leave it be, he's stuck responding to messages and reading legalese. Sylus leaves you, Luke and Kieran in the living room. You're playing a video game together, and arguing over how to solve a puzzle. He heads to the kitchen with a glass of gin fizz, glasses on, and gets to work.

He thinks he manages about three hours of no interruptions, which is a record where the twins are concerned. He took one break to call the doctor to pick up some ingredients for dinner, and then resumed his work. It's boring and he has to do it. Onychinus, as much as a chore as it can be, is important to him. While he'd love to live a quiet life with you, simple and relaxed, until every threat biting at your heels is gone... he doesn't have the luxury of laying down his weapons.

Ears pricking up, he can feel you. Stepping as quietly as you can up behind him. He wants to laugh but swallows it down, wanting to see what you do and what your goal is. You always grumble when he catches you, and you never seem happy when he informs you that he just simply would always listen out for you.

How could he not hear his own heart after all?

A tail smacks him in the nose, and his tablet is knocked out of his hand. You laugh, gleeful and satisfied, going to rush out of the room.

Unluckily for you, he is faster. EVOL wrapping around you and pulling you into his lap, as you wriggle and laugh. Tail swishing. Your pupils have almost swallowed your iris'.

"Nooo!" You groan, "How are you that fast?"

"Good reflexes, honed from years of practice." He teases, nipping your nose, amused when you nip back. He watches your pupils and your tail. Watches the way you look like you're vibrating, unable to sit still in his lap. "Now why is my troublesome kitten trying to break my work tools?"

The tablet is unharmed, caught in mist, and placed on the side.

Still, it's not like you to go out of your way to break things. Though, looking at your tail, he realises he forgot cats enjoy chaos.

"Bored! You've been in here too long." You nip again, butt your head against him gently. Hand in a fist gently hitting his shoulder. You look up at him where your head is now pressed to his collarbone, shrinking in on yourself to get as much heat from his body as you can, "I feel... odd."

"Odd?"

He watches the question spin in your head, as you worry at your lip with your teeth, he catches your lip before the fangs can draw blood.

"Like I want to run."

"Ah." He points at your eyes, then your tail which has not settled since he's been watching you, and then the twitching in your hand. "Someone has zoomies."

"Excuse me?"

"Zoomies, kitten. Surely you've seen cats before."

You huff, hissing a little, "I've not lived under a rock, Sylus."

He lets out a chuckle and taps your nose, "You need stimulation. I thought your game would work."

Your cheeks heat up, he can feel the change against his skin, and you bite his finger, "I got bored."

"Oh?"

"You weren't around."

His hand tightens on your waist, nose running along your cheek, taking long inhales of your scent like you're a flower in the desert. "I'm sure I can find something for us to do." Your tail stills, and you blink up at him. "Let's entertain my little kitten."

------

"I didn't think you meant the park..."

"Expecting something else?"

You'd be lying if you said no. Sylus was a walking innuendo more often than he wasn't. He was very openly flirty, he said things that made Zayne and Raffy blush often. You're sure only Xavier could be more overt. Still, a park.

You have headphones in, to help manage the noise, and your hand is firmly in Sylus'. Normally you don't leave the house without your prosthetic on, but you don't want the straps on your skin right now, and there's nothing pressing that requires you to need it. The twins are kicking a football next to you, you're not actually sure where it came from.

"They didn't steal that right?" You whisper to Sylus.

"I bought it for them after you showed them that movie, and they wanted to try to? Bend it?"

The unsure look on his face is something special and you fight the urge to laugh at him, successfully, though you're sure he can read it on you because his face softens.

"Hunter, can you play?"

"Caleb showed me a while back, I wasn't very good."

"Not enjoying sports, kitten? How surprising."

You elbow him, snorting, "I can fight just fine, I don't need to be a sportsman."

Still, that feeling in your limbs is still there. Like you're vibrating, on edge, ready. It's almost like adrenaline but it doesn't seem to settle. Like you want to run, and run, and run.

"Play with us then." Kieran kicks the ball to you, and you try to remember how you're supposed to aim.

You releases Sylus' hand on impulse as you test the ball at your feet, thinking about Caleb who laughed as you kicked either too far or not far enough. Never able to control the strength you put into sports. Tennis had resulted in broken windows, football had resulted in balls over fences, you'd gotten injured trying rugby, too aggressive for hockey, and you'd fallen on your face too many times trying to ski.

He'd always laughed and then eased you through the motions, not lost patience with you, always had a hand out to help you move forwards.

Caught up in your memories, you don't notice the dog running up for the ball until it barks right in your face.

Fur on end, leaping up into the air, and a harsh hiss ripping from you in seconds. It's just a dog. Just a dog. You like dogs... you-

The hiss turns into a growl, and then a yowl, as it gets more aggravated at you for reacting, and your tail is up, bristling and shaking. You can feel yourself trembling, the barking feels like it's in stereo. Surrounding you and sinking into you. Tearing through your eardrums and pulling the ground out under you.

Before Sylus can even get to you, the twins are a wall between you and a rogue dog. Both growling themselves, in a way that makes the dog whine and squeal and back off. Neither touch you, but as the owner comes up, apologising profusely for losing hold of their dog, the twins turn to you and herd you away from the area.

The shivering won't stop, but your tail, still bristled, tucks between your legs. Twitching and seeking. Sylus' hand on the small of your back, makes you jump again for a moment before his scent fills your senses and you slump back towards him. Knowing he'll catch you.

Stupid.

Stupid...

"I've got you. It's alright."

He covers your cat ears, and leads you somewhere quiet.

A wooded area, quiet and removed from park goers. After a little while, you think you can breathe properly again and your fur has settled. He is tracing patterns into your back, giving you a point of focus. "Sorry."

"Nothing to apologise for."

"It's stupid."

"You're cursed, kitten. I hardly think being scared by a dog is something stupid. People are scared of them without being cats."

"Hunter!"

"Hunter."

The twins pop up, they have steaming paper cups in hand, shoving one at you. You grab it quickly before burns are added to your problems. The smell of coffee floats up to you, familiar.

"We got hot chocolate, tea and coffee."

"We guessed you'd want coffee but options are good."

Sylus' chuckle moves through you from where he's holding you, taking a hot chocolate for himself.

You wipe at your eyes, and sip the coffee, the heat easing you from the inside out. It takes you to mornings where a coffee is brought to you in bed, eased out of the land of nightmares with soft touches and warm kisses. If you were a more touchy person, you would hug the twins. You're not sure if they'd even want you to, and it's not a conversation for today.

As Sylus sips, and you ease into his side, watching the twins argue over which the other will drink, you offer your thank yous to them all softly. Only to receive unbothered shrugs from the twins, and a nod from Sylus. As though it is not a problem, as though helping you is second nature. As though you shouldn't expect anything else.

It is as you finally feel the world slot back into place, tail curling around Sylus, that he blinks, looking at the twins, and asks, "Where did you get the money for these?"

The twins jump, look at each other, then at you both, as they go to speak, you hear a yelled, "Oi! You two! You didn't pay!"

You get to watch Sylus furrow his brow, sigh like a long suffering parent, and take his card to the stall owner with a pointed look at the twins.

"Thanks boss!"

"Thanks boss."

-------

He's watching you sleep, talking nonsense as your ears twitch. Your hand twitches against his arm as he lies on his stomach next to you, face turned to you. Arm thrown over your waist and your leg thrown over his, foot hooked to keep one of his legs between yours. Trying to keep as much contact as you can with him. Tail around his ankle.

You swap roles often. The guard and the guarded, both too on edge often. When someone else joins your sleep, sometimes you both lie awake and protect. The prince has dragged you both to bed often, seeing the wear around your eyes.

Tonight, he lies and stares at you. Not a guard dog, simply admiring. From the view of the bed, he can see the balcony planter. Full now, of treasures he cannot wait to see bloom to life. You move, rubbing your cheek against the pillow, and wiggle closer. Seeking the heat of him, pressing yourself so close he thinks you're trying to fuse with him.

He sometimes wonders if your split soul is seeking his out to be whole again. If it misses part of the noisy thing that lives in his chest. Changing him willingly. He isn't sure he would ever want to hand it back. It is at home inside of him, just as you are at home in his arms. Just as part of him burns in your chest, even if you can't hear it as loudly as he can.

Sylus knows it is there, and he hopes it reminds you every day that he adores you. That his love is eternal, that he will want you beyond the death of stars.

He changes positions so that he can pull you into his arms, fit you against him, and rest your head against his chest. So you can hear it. His heart and yours thrumming. Dancing and singing for each other. Hoping the sound of your joining will keep you safe in sleep, away from the nightmares that haunt you.

As he takes your hand in his, splaying your fingers over his stomach, he feels the familiar gold sparks of your resonance. Weak and small, hindered by your curse, but there. He thrills, assured and comforted by you seeking him out in every way you can. That even in sleep you seek connection to him. That your power yearns to touch his.

He has gone from seeing hatred in your eyes, to holding you against his chest, kissing your tears away, and protecting you in moments you let yourself be a cared for.

It is not the first time he has fought for a prize. Has hunted and struggled for a treasure. It is, however, the most valuable reward he has ever earned.

And everyday he lives, he is joyed to continue to keep you. Right here, where he can love you.

#wonder writes #love and deepspace #sylus #reader x sylus #sylus x mc #lads x mc #lads x reader #sylus x reader #lads #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #smau #fake texts #to answer your non existent question #Xavi joins the club #so does mc #there's a collar collection in the poly lads house

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hollyhomburg · 3 months ago

Text

Prey Animals (5)

— Pairing: Namkook, Vminkook, Namjingi, Yoongi x reader, Bts x reader,

— Genre: Omegaverse, Mafia au, Polyamory au, Found family, Suspense, Eventual Smut, enemies to friends to lovers, Healing & Themes of trauma,

— Summary: In a world where Beta's are rare, valuable, and often have more than one pack; Beta Min Yoongi does everything he can to keep his mafia heritage a secret from his primary pack. Little does he know he's not the only one who's living a double life.

— Words: 5.7k

— Warnings: Hospitals, sickfic, Angst, Hurt/comfort, Humor, Polyamory negotiations, Seizures, Chronic illness, flirting

— Check in at the end for my notes on this chapter! —

(Previous chapter)

(3 years ago, Namjoon)

It’s been a little more than a year after Namjoon officially moved Seokjin and Yoongi into his apartment. And although the addition of the pup doesn’t happen overnight, it sort of feels like it does.

Namjoon is not regularly a skeptic, he doesn’t look down his nose at certain tropes, love at first sight, enemies to lovers, the waspish omega that falls into the arms of the big buff alpha brute. But there is only one trope when Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung fall into their lives: neither an old wives tale, a good luck charm, or a superstition.

Good things come in threes.

When Namjoon meets him, he doesn’t know Jungkook will be his omega one day. One day, but not quite yet. The day they meet, Jungkook is just another one of Namjoon’s patients:

The waiting room is full of the smell of sick people, vomit, and a lingering sliminess of blood and antiseptic. Covering up the smell of sour fear and anguish. It’s full of blaring red exist signs and the beep of an overhead alert for a code blue upstairs. Overstimulating to even those who are used to it.

Namjoon doesn’t have to worry, code blue means cardiology, code purple maternity.

A code red? Then he’d be running.

There’s one blond head, one black head, and one tawny waiting in bay 8. All of them look too young to consider themselves packmates and yet they act as one unit when Namjoon calls Jeon Jungkook’s name. He’s got wavy black hair and doe eyes and a strong jawline that he has yet to grow into. A pup still. But not for much longer.

An attractive omega. A pretty one.

Namjoon is just two hours shy of a desperately needed break and 10 hours into his current shift. Exhaustion weighs on his bones like a physical ache. No worse and no better than the other patients. But Namjoon's hoping to be promoted to the head of neurosurgery within the next few years (it will take him 6 months before they offer him the job) and he needs to put in the hours to achieve that goal.

A goal that comes with things for his pack, a bigger apartment maybe, less hours for Yoongi and Jin, and more good food in the little kitchen. A vacation maybe (they’ve never been anywhere together, that would be nice, wouldn’t it?) Both Jin and Yoongi like to cook and a bigger kitchen and a larger apartment is high on Namjoon’s lists of wants.

While the omega looks absolutely fine, you’d never guess that judging by the gun smoke and spiced wine scents that spike agitated into the air from each of his alphas. They’re tense, each of them holding one of the omega's hands so hard their knuckles are white.

Jungkook’s hands are calloused, Namjoon notices while he’s taking his blood pressure. Eyes on the monitor and not on Jungkook’s eyes. Staring at him unwaveringly as Namjoon asks his quiet questions.

“Do you lift weights Jungkook?”

“Yes, I ugh, I’m a personal trainer.”

Namjoon hums, it shows, Jungkook’s veins are so good that Namjoon doesn’t even have to check to see if he’s dehydrated. He compliments him on it (weird doctor quirk) and the omega blushes. Looking down an away. “Have you ever hit your head on any of the equipment at work? Or ever fallen during a set. You said you had a seizure, where you working out when you had it?”

“No, I was at home I was-”

The larger of the two alphas is the first one to speak- when his patient chokes on his own words. The blond one turns his impassive eyes upwards at Namjoon and says nothing. He’s terribly small for an alpha, but his eyes are no less threatening, his glare, although it comes from a sweet face, is anything but blank, it’s murderous.

But Namjoon is not here to hurt their omega, he’s here to help heal him. Namjoon is only too used to dealing with this sort of thing- packmates worried and fussing over their pack members, omega’s nesting around their alpha’s in the waiting room, that sort of thing.

Namjoon feels a tug in his gut. But the tawny haired one is the first one to speak, and Namjoon shoves it down in favor of doing his job.

“If someone had a seizure during…” he pauses, glancing at Jungkook then at Namjoon “Sex- would you be able to tell? And how would we make sure it doesn’t happen again?”

The omega is bright red between the two of them. the alpha that smells like gunsmoke and glares a bit like the devil might, re-settles his other hand on the back of Jungkook’s neck to soothe him. His shoulders drop from around his ears and Jungkook’s distressed omega scent evens out from rotting flowers back to sweet honey.

Namjoon’s inner alpha perks up. Lifting its head from folded polite paws.

People smell different when they're sad than when they're happy. Namjoon’s own coffee scent starts to smell like coffee liquor when he’s angry, or too tired to breathe properly or too anxious to think straight. Seokjin smells like curdled milk and wet dog when he's upset or missing them but sweet milk when he's happy. And Yoongi goes all salty and ocean murky when he's miffed that someone's looking at him a bit too long but smells like thick chocolate every other hour of the day.

The two alphas on either side of Jungkook smell like Gunsmoke (the angry one) and peppery wine (the tall one) or maybe he's just drunk and smells like pepper. Namjoon's first thought is not how to help them- but wondering what they'd smell like if they were happy.

Huh.

That should be the first thing that tips him off really. He tries not to worry too much about the happiness of his patients, only their health. There are some boundaries that need to be maintained so that Namjoon doesn’t get too attached.

Namjoon pauses to fill Jungkook’s waterglass. He gets two other paper cups and fills those too while he talks about symptoms.

They all look so small and scared. And Namjoon can’t help but send out comforting pheromones- his scent blockers have worn off this long into his shift. It’s just in his nature to want to comfort these three- so lost in a sea of concerned stressed faces and scents. It must be bombarding them. Namjoon is used to how the emergency room smells. The tangle of stressed scents and possible threats.

Their shoes sit side by side, a pair of combat boots, a pair of converse, and a pair of brown leather loafers. All of them have purple shoelaces threaded through. Namjoon knows a pack mark when he sees it. All of Namjoon’s packmates wear Yoongi’s one flannel- trading it back and forth between the three of them.

The three of them lean into Namjoon’s space.

But still, he’s nothing but professional, taking Jungkook’s vitals under the watchful eye of both of his alpha’s. And the small cagey looking one hands over Jungkook’s hand when Namjoon needs to fix the heartrate monitor and lets him take Jungkook in for a scan upstairs, promising that he’s in good hands and really Jungkook is.

He prattles on to Namjoon the whole way up and is Namjoon sure he’s never worked out before, not even a little? How else does he get so strong? Namjoon guides Jungkook into the big machine, trying to soothe his anxiety. Rubbing his fingers on his wrist, his scent gland there small and tender to the touch.

The minutes Jungkook is in the machine feel terribly long, the thudding all around him loud and scary. “Are you still there Dr.Kim?” he asks through the intercom.

“Of course I am, Jungkook.”

“My alpha’s call me Kookie, or Jk, you can call me Kookie if you want. Cuz I’m sweet like one.”

Namjoon pauses, before he clicks the button on the intercom, worried. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”

“No! I’m like this naturally!”

He watches the screen, waiting, tapping his foot, and the technician asks him if he has more important things to do.

Namjoon’s glasses reflect the blue light of the monitor. “Looking after my patients take precedent” the technician scoffs something like ‘looking after huh’ and continues to click away as pixel after pixel comes through.

Namjoon finds evidence of the seizure and others on Jungkook’s MRI.

He gives the three of them a lengthy conversation, spending more time than he ordinarily would on them, explaining the depts of Jungkook’s illness. He hates breaking life-changing news to people. He hates the look in their eyes when it hits them. When they look at him like he can change it or like he might be wrong.

Namjoon is a good doctor, he’s rarely ever wrong.

Telling this omega that he has epilepsy, that he can't drive and will likely have to change every aspect of his life to avoid as many seizures as possible or risk permanent brain damage- sucks. Telling the omega with the bunny eyes and the chubby cheeks that his life as he knows it is over feels like the worst thing that Namjoon has ever had to do. And he had to perform a craniotomy on a two-year-old last week, so he’s got perspective. He books multiple follow up appointments with Jungkook. More than normal.

It's pretty clear that Namjoon's instincts are having some bearing on his emotions. He usually doesn't care so much. He's had enough people die on him that he can't care the way he used too about people who aren't Jin or Yoongi. It’s not heartlessness, it’s just self-preservation.

But that all goes out of the window when he breathes in their scents. So unhappy, Namjoon can’t not soothe them, can’t do nothing.

“It could never happen again, and it could happen twice every week. There's no way to know how often you’ll have them so you should be extra careful for a little while. No operating heavy machinery or driving and stay away from stairs if you can. You’ve got two packmates to take care of you so that’s good.”

I’ve got two packmates too, he wants to say. If yours are any good, they’ll take care of you half as well as Seokjin and Yoongi take care of me.

As if the two alphas can smell a hint of the suggestion that they wouldn’t hang the stars for Jeon Jungkook, they curl protectively around Namjoon’s patient. Even the small one with the blond hair looks protective and large in the small space, sizing Namjoon up like he could be a potential threat. He’s used to this kind of alpha posturing at the hospital when tensions run high and concern for loved ones becomes adrenaline. Any possible threat prompts aggression.

Instincts are fickle things. Namjoon’s alpha does not take his posturing as a threat.

Namjoon’s alpha is pacing and howling in the confines of his head, straining it’s neck to get out out out. He’s a man of science not instinct. No one, not even the other alpha- would be able to tell that Namjoon was feeling anything at all.

But Seokjin would know.

Seokjin would poke at the vein on Namjoon’s neck that stands out when he rolls his jaw and Namjoon would go from feral wolf to puppy and putty in Seokjin’s hands.

Namjoon has always been a dominant alpha. It doesn’t matter much in their small 3-person pack because Namjoon is the only alpha when it comes to Seokjin and Yoongi. But looking at these two sitting here, it feels like it does. The tall alpha- Taehyung- looks at Namjoon but he looks away first. The small patient room is full of the scent of fresh coffee. Namjoon's scent fluffs out through his blockers without any kind of effort.

The two alphas breathe in the scent of coffee- the kind that’s pressed into your hand the second after you wake by someone you love. To Jimin and Taehyung- it conjures up the image happy Saturdays and Sundays, the moments shared in intimacy and half wakefulness. Namjoon likes that he smells like innocent moments.

Even they have to admit that Dr. Kim smells good.

Their shoulders ease away from their necks, and their fear begins to dissipate as Namjoon explains.

To Jimin fear has always been a necessary evil. It feels weird to try and let go of it with Jungkook sick, with the news that everything is going to change (that maybe everything already has). Every few seconds Namjoon’s scent makes Jimin’s body relax, and he has to straighten up again. Namjoon just tells himself that it’s a sign he’s good at his job even though it feels a little too much like flirting to be completely appropriate.

Namjoon has never flirted with another alpha, at least not knowingly.

“Could it also have been a one-off fluke?” Taehyung asks. He’s been mostly quiet, but Namjoon shivers when he meets his eyes. There is something placid about his face, even under the storm of this, the alpha looks mostly calm. He can't explain it, but looking at Taehyung feels like looking at the ocean, scary if you look away.

Namjoon reminds them that he’d found signs of other seizures on his brain scan too. Points them out to them on his tablet, shows a picture of a normal brain to compare. He explains that sometimes the only indication that a seizure is happening could be that time is passing weirdly or that someone is staring off into space for too long.

Taehyung goes pale when he says that. “Jungkook gets that way all the time.” He says the next part quieter, “especially when he’s nesting.”

Namjoon’s breath goes shallow at that, the idea that this omega, this Jungkook and his packmates will never be able to see him nest again without worrying, without asking and doublechecking. Something that is routine and a necessary part of all omega’s and their biology and pack intimacy will never feel normal to them again.

When they leave- Namjoon gives them his personal number because he’s so concerned about the three of them. So vulnerable and unprepared to help Jungkook navigate the world like this. None of them are older than 25. And while they're not not adults, Namjoon's instincts scream at him pups pups pups.

Surprisingly it’s Jungkook who uses Namjoon's number the most often.

He wants to talk to Namjoon about it all- the new definition of his life inside his medical condition. No bright flashing lights and limited screen time. A set bedtime every night and a new diet that’s helping considerably but still feels so restrictive. Jungkook can’t do anything without thinking about it, weighing out calories and estimating carbohydrates. Pricking his fingers to monitor the blood sugar spikes.

“I would kill for some pretzels- or just- some fucking bread. Do you know how good fresh bread is when you know you can't have it Joonie?”

Namjoon doesn't scold Jungkook for the nicknames anymore. Not after the first few calls when Jungkook's natural earnestness melts away Namjoon’s better judgment. “Too much salt bunny” Namjoon hears Taehyung say on the other side of the phone.

“I will kill you for carbohydrates Hyung.”

Namjoon does the best he can to ease the young omega's worries. And slowly- they talk about things other than Jungkook’s condition. Though that remains a soft topic, “I didn’t have any this week hyung! Maybe they’re finally turning a corner, aren’t you proud of me?”

“Of course, I am bunny- I’ll always be proud of you.”

In the background of the call, he hears the words ‘hot doctor’ and ‘hopeless’ faintly. A happy little giggle he’s started to recognize as Jimin’s when Jungkook shoots him a scandalized “Hyung!”

He and Jungkook talk until late at night sometimes. They text a lot too, so much that Yoongi and Jin tease him about it, “What are you smiling at your phone about?”

Like they don’t already know.

Jungkook fills the spaces when Yoongi and Jin aren’t there; the days after Namjoon’s had a night shift and both of his pack mates are working. Jungkook’s voice fills the air in Namjoon’s room. And when he closes his eyes, it feels like he’s really there.

Namjoon wants more than he would ever willingly admit. Wants more than he’d ever think through if Seokjin told him no.

But Seokjin only ever teases Namjoon for smelling strong and ask to see Jungkook’s Instagram. “Wow he’s like- model hot.” Namjoon had just pecked his cheek, dispelling any anxiety or insecurity.

“If he’s model hot then you’re ancient Greek statue hot.”

“Joonie.”

“Do you want me to stop calling him? I will.”

Seokjin’s thumb had hovered, a photo of the three of them there. The like count is what bothers him. Even Seokjin gets more than 50 likes on his photos of Namjoon and Yoongi. But these three pups, they only have 11 people in their corner. Two alphas and one omega.

This omega, this Jungkook must be special.

Seokjin’s heart beats hard. Flicking through the photos. Namjoon lets him look through their texts too. Jungkook is old fashioned, he prefers to call. “He’s got seizures Namjoon.”

“I know hyung.”

“He’s sick, and you can’t cure him.”

“I know.”

But packs are built this way, they all know that.

He talks to Jungkook’s alphas too. Mostly Taehyung who studied literature in undergrad and works at the large public library in the city center, not far from Namjoon’s hospital. One morning he even finds a coffee waiting at the check in desk for him, a cup of coffee and a not scrawled on the side in elegant handwriting.

Thanks for looking after Koo. He’s very special to us.

How many nicknames does this omega have? Namjoon saves the note, keeps it in his jacket pocket.

They share a lot of the same interest in poetry. Taehyungs the one who rescues Namjoon from the sound of static when Jungkook falls asleep on the line and talks quick, about stories and plot lines and the newest viral book that they can’t keep off the shelves that he’s just been dying to read but won’t until no one reserves it.

(Namjoon might leave it at the front desk in the library, might wrap it in a little purple bow)

The next time Jungkook calls he opens the phone to, “no fair! You got Taehyung a present before you go me something! It’s supposed to be omega’s first Hyung.”

“Okay bunny okay, what would you have me get you?”

“I don’t know.” Jungkook had hesitated, “something for my nest maybe?” Namjoon’s breath had gone short, and the shouting through the other end of the line was good natured, goofy, but still indignant enough that Jungkook’s giggles had smoothed over any uncomfortableness. “Kidding hyung, you can buy me food.”

“Something seizure safe?” Namjoon had clarified, ducked into a corner at the hospital, words quiet.

“You gonna tell my doctor on me if it’s not?”

“Kookie-”

But scolding Jungkook never works out well, he’s too cute to be scolded, too good for it. Jungkook’s a personal trainer and luckily his work hasn’t been too disrupted by his diagnosis. Namjoon doesn’t know if he would have been able to resist offering monetary help if it had. They’re not rich, but having three people to pool their paychecks together takes the anxiety out of a lot of things.

Jungkook’s body feels more and more like a cage as the seizures get worse. His life is narrowed down to the five or ten minutes a week he surrenders to the seizures. But the best part, the part that makes him feel most free, is picking up the phone and calling Namjoon. Namjoon never makes him feel like he’s sick, his concern isn’t stifling like Jimin and Tae's can be at times. Namjoon never makes Jungkook feel worried and under watch, only looked after.

Jungkook knows that Jimin and Taehyung will get better at it, they have been adjusting but it’s Been hard. He’s not fragile right? He’s not going to die from this? Right?

Jungkook’s okay until he’s not.

Taehyung sends him poems and pictures of Jungkook sleeping and getting his rest. But he also calls in a panic just days from his third follow up MRI because Jungkook had a seizure when neither of the alphas was home. He’s still on the floor, and he’s having trouble standing.

Namjoon knows. Namjoon knows what that looks like after a seizure, knows how scary it is when the body won’t listen to the brain. The dissonance to it, like a car crash happening quietly or mold inside of a jam jar, shocking at the opening.

“He says he’s okay- but Joonie- Joonie- how do we know- what if he’s bleeding in his head or if he’s-”

“Tae- Tae- it’s okay baby. I’m here, do you want me to come over and check him out?”

The use of the word baby gets a little look from Yoongi and Jin. They’re playing footsie at the coffee table with a pint of ice cream and only one spoon between the two of them. Their night of domestic leisure interrupted by this phone call. Namjoon’s startled tone draws their attention away from each other. Namjoon’s too panicked to notice their questioning eyes, too worried about Jungkook.

He’s got more on his mind right now, the thought of brain bleeds and strokes and the misfiring neurons in Jungkook’s brain that could kill him. Really- Jungkook could die at any time from this. He could die and Namjoon's only seen them a handful of times. His follow up appointment that Namjoon had desperately been looking forward too, is barely a week away.

But that's not soon enough.

Tae goes silent on the other line until the phone gets handed over with a rustle of fabric against the earpiece. But Namjoon recognizes the calm breath. Namjoon doesn’t have as much of a rapport with Jimin, beyond a few selfies or videos of him and Jungkook being cute sent to him by Taehyung (because if he has to suffer through being so deeply in love that Jimin snorting sprite out his nose makes him have heart eyes then everyone else has to witness it too).

(In Namjoon’s defense those are Taehyung’s words- not his).

“Hyung, can you come over?” He asks.

He's never called Namjoon Hyung before and never asked to. There's a warmness there. Namjoon knows a little about why that might be. All of them are immigrants to different degrees and Namjoon's technically 3rd generation and had never learned Korean just like Jungkook. Tae and Jimin know more, have the sentiment built into their language, Korean to English and back again tangling until it’s hard to tell what they are- if they’re anything other than other. Jimin can’t read hangul but Tae can.

Jungkook throws the word ‘Hyung’ around like an American and likes to tack it onto every sentence or forget it entirely. Namjoon doesn't speak Korean like Yoongi and Jin do. But Namjoon recognizes the same cadence in Jimin's voice that Yoongi uses when he talks to Seokjin in that soft special way reserved for someone you expect to look after you.

The supplication is sweet as he asks for Namjoon. He lives up to his stoic persona; his voice barely wavers when he gives Namjoon their address.

In the mad dash over to their apartment, Namjoon recalls the story Jungkook told him of how he met Tae and Jimin. Jimin is a professional bodyguard and works for an entertainment agency, they both used to go to the same gym (Jungkook works there now but Jimin is too busy working to go more than once or twice a week) both of them staunch jocks and Tae the one erudite that charmed their hearts.

Taehyung and Jimin had known each other since grade school, had grown up and gotten kicked out at the same time because their parents didn’t approve of alpha and alpha relationships. They’ve been together even longer than Seokjin and Yoongi have. Had presented together and loved each other through it. Although it seems impossible given their age. He remembers Jungkook’s smitten expression over Facetime, stars in his eyes only meant for the two alphas’ and Namjoon a happy voyeur.

“They’re soulmates Hyung, like you and Seokjinnie.”

And that’s how Namjoon ends up halfway across town wearing only one slipper in Yoongi’s robe at 10 pm on a Wednesday. His car keys jingle in his hand as he realizes- fuck- I didn’t even comb my hair. His alpha instincts are screaming at him to find the three pups and make sure they’re alright. Maybe scruff them, maybe make sure that their den is as safe as Namjoon's.

(It couldn't be as safe as Namjoon's- his instincts say. He should take them by the nape and drag them back to place them in Seokjin's nest, the only safe place for pups. Seokjin might not even mind, Seokjin might chirp like his alpha has brought something significantly valuable back to his nest, like food from hunting or more furs. Three more packmates yes. That would be a very very good courting gift for the pack omega. Seokjin will like these alpha’s, Namjoon is sure of it).

Namjoon’s only ever felt this protective with two people in his life and he knows enough to guess what this means.

Jimin answers the door, moving to the side instantly to let Namjoon into their den. Routine, like not even an inch of his instincts reject him. They’ve only met in person twice and talked over the phone a handful of times. But Jimin’s eyes still shine, glassy and trusting.

“Alpha, you came.” He says, blushing when he realizes his slip-up. It’s quite a chang3e from his glaring before but Namjoon doesn’t question it. Namjoon whips through their apartment, his nose seeking out their omega.

“Couldn’t stay away, would have come over even if you said you didn’t want me to.” Is the confession too much or is it perfect? Jimin’s eyes go dark, and his hand loosens on the doorknob where it’s closed. Keeping the world out and Namjoon inside.

Namjoon wants to growl, but it comes out as a near purr.

Namjoon barely notices the checkered yellow carpet and the plants on the windowsill or the books piled by the couch where Jungkook sits with Taehyung, head in the alpha’s lap. The soft drone of the TV is the only noise. The brightness is turned down too. Both of his hands clasped in Taehyung’s tight, and a kitchen towel pressed to a mark on his cheek that's not bleeding anymore.

It doesn’t need stitches but will scar anyway. The scar will stay for years after, small and slight. Just barely puckering over Jungkook’s cheekbone. Namjoon spends half an hour holding his hands and checking his pulse. Shining a light in Jungkook’s eyes before he verifies that Jungkook is okay. That his pupils look fine, that he doesn't have a concussion. And he's going to be fine.

Tonight, Jungkook is alive and healthy, but that will not always be the case.

“You can borrow a pair of Tae’s shoes to go home,” Jimin says while Tae and Jungkook waddle off together towards the end of the hall where the scent of the three of them grows thick and sweet. In the direction of Jungkook’s nest.

Taehyung holds Jungkook up, still tired and dizzy from the seizure, but at least his legs are cooperating again. He’ll be back to normal by the morning. But for now he sleepily nuzzles into Namjoon’s shoulder. His words lisping with sleep, “it feels better when you’re here. Like you a lot hyung, like you lots and lots.”

Taehyung laughs awkwardly. “Okay, that’s enough honey bunny.” He’s understandably a little embarrassed that his omega is scenting the doctor that they met that one time (no matter that their call history says they’ve spent nearly 50 hours talking on the phone over the last 3 weeks.)

Taehyung holds his shoulders and puppets Jungkook to their room. Namjoon has to force himself to let them go down the narrow hallway and not follow them.

Namjoon is just about to leave when Jimin stops him at the door. “Alpha?” It’s not a mistake this time. Namjoon pauses in the doorway.

“Thanks for caring for us.”

Namjoon can’t stop his shivers even when he gets home. Yoongi strokes down his arms to warm him up. “You look like you’ve just had a bomb dropped on you or like you're coming down with something.”

Yoongi's honesty makes Namjoon word vomit all over the quiet. Jin is asleep next to them, but he stirs at the sudden spike of Namjoon's distress. Turns and opens his eyes, crusty. Rubbing at them with a curled fist before he leans his head on Yoongi’s arm. Curled beneath his cheek. Both of them lean in close to watch and listen.

“I think- I think they’re going to be a part of our pack.”

Yoongi kisses Namjoon’s frown away, kissing him over top of Seokjin who huffs, a little bratty at being ignored. Yoongi’s scent remains an uninterrupted ribbon of chocolate melty goodness. If Yoongi feels at all threatened or uncomfortable. He doesn’t smell it.

Namjoon knows he smells relived, even more when Yoongi kisses his cheeks, his brow. Namjoon clings, hands circling the beta’s waist. Possessive, almost apologetic. “Good, I’d rather listen to them talk here than get only half of your conversation through the phone.”

Late-night phone calls turn into tentative flirting and pinky promises. Seokjin always makes sure to like Jungkook’s posts on Instagram. Makes Yoongi like them too.

He finds flowers downstairs not long after, pink roses, two dozen of them. Long stems elegant and pretty. ‘To Dr.Kim’s pack omega, from Jungkook’s alphas’

“Don’t you think it’s a little strange? I just liked their photos on Instagram and they’re sending flowers?” He remarks to Yoongi later, admiring the flowers in their kitchen, so tall they almost block the view.

Yoongi had simply shrugged, “I think they’re probably just feeling guilty that Namjoon’s spending so much time away from us to take care of him.”

“What do you think of him. Of Jungkook?”

Yoongi had simply shrugged, “if it works out, it works out.”

“And if it doesn’t.”

“Then we put Joonie back together again.”

But lucky for them it will work out. Lucky for all of them there is nothing to worry about.

~-~

“I always think I’m too much for Jiminie and Taehyung- they’re such good alphas, and I’m just a burden.”

Namjoon hums disapprovingly, soft in his reassurance, opening the fridge to get out the milk, it’s almost noon, and Jungkook is just finishing up his classes. Namjoon is home and the others aren’t.

“Enough of that bunny. They love you. You know they don’t mind at all. They’ve told me they don’t. Promise me you'll call me when you feel this way.”

I’d take care of you too if you’d let me. Taking care of someone like you would be the opposite of a burden. Do you want me to take care of you Jungkook?

Jungkook’s voice is crackly through the phone. "I promise Hyung."

Seokjin steals the phone from Namjoon sometimes. “Namjoon says you’re cuter in person and I demand we have a cuteness competition where we make out and don’t let him join us.”

Jungkook’s hum comes through immediately. “To torture him? Wouldn’t nesting be more painful? I have a really really cute next Seokjin Hyung. Can you come over and see it sometime?” Asking an older omega for help nesting is-

Seokjin licks his lips, eyes Namjoon up and down, the blush on his cheeks, at a loss for what to say for once. Seokjin looks like he’s relishing in it. And Namjoon starts to get worried for a whole different reason.

It’s so terribly Seokjin as first introductions go. Jungkook’s laugh echoes through the phone and has Namjoon reaching for the phone to hear it. Leaning in cheek to cheek with Seokjin, fighting for it, play wrestling and roughhousing, but Namjoon is resistant to use any real force with Jin.

The omega puts his foot on Namjoon’s chest, both of them sprawled on the couch as Yoongi watches, brushing his teeth at the kitchen sink. Smiling through the bit of white foam that’s gathered on his lips.

“But seriously- when am I going to get to meet you Kookie? Can I call you that?”

They have a group dinner after Tae complains that he’s missing his favorite pair of comfy slip-ons and Jungkook complains that he’s missing his favorite alpha (a sentence that has both Tae and Jimin screaming indignantly but it’s all playful animosity and healthy competition between alphas).

They come over Jin pets Jimin's hair for a full hour, The puppy alpha leans into his touch, staying quiet while Tae explains to Jin the finer points of the dewy decimal system and where he went to college and how he organizes his own personal library in a much much more efficient system. Maybe the quiet or attention Jin gives the other man would bother Namjoon where it not for the sweet, sweet scent of vanilla that the alpha brings with him and the fluttering of his pretty eyelashes.

It’s not the usual vanilla, something deeper to it than baking vanilla, not quite as warm, but still musky and sweet.

Alphas don’t usually smell so sweet, Namjoon knows Jimin smells like Gunsmoke when he’s angry or distressed, had sort of assumed that his happy scent would mirror it. It’s a scent that most omega’s would have, makes saliva gather in his mouth, it smells awfully good when combined with Jin’s happy scent. Both of them smell like melted vanilla ice cream.

Tae chuckles and holds him when he starts to teeter. “Careful, Jimin’s sweet spot is his hair.” And Namjoon drinks down the pretty blush stronger than any whiskey. When Jimin blinks owlishly up at Jin, suddenly looking nervous Jungkook pipes up, agreeing.

“Seriously, just keep doing and he’ll kill for you.”

Jimin- Namjoon’s learned- is probably the quietest in their little pack. Jimin confesses to him months later that he got teased for his sweet scent growing up. Combined with his short stature and soft features he gets mistaken for an omega more often than not.

Namjoon learns that out of all of them Jimin is probably the most in touch with his baser instincts. This is why he was so shy at first. Jimin’s inner wolf (though he’d cringe if Namjoon ever used such archaic wording) is so much louder than everyone else’s. He’d recognized Namjoon as not just an alpha but his alpha immediately.

It had come as such a shock to him that day in the hospital that Jimin had rejected it a little. Jimin had never thought he’d feel the urge (and actually did have to stop himself) from rolling over and showing his stomach to another alpha. The same way that Taehyung does in the middle of rut sometimes when he's truly brought into a lower more instinctual headspace.

Namjoon watches him interact with Jin while Jungkook curls under his arm. It feels so natural to touch Jungkook, to stroke down his side, to duck low and whisper his observations into the omega’s hair. While they watch their two packs intermingle. Yoongi and Tae talk through their favorite books and music while he helps Yoongi set everything up for dinner. Yoongi might not read as much as Namjoon or Jin or Tae do- but he still appreciates Tae talking about what he loves. The way he’s so invested in the stories that he talks quick. The pretty way he smiles when he's really getting into his favorite book.

Tae is a librarian, Yoongi learns. He looks the part of it.

His soft silk shirt looks so delicate and simply pretty, the collar parted against honey collarbones. His well-tailored pants hug his toned thighs and trim waist. Yoongi is a little distracted by it that he almost burns the bechamel sauce. Distracted enough that he loses track of what Taehyung’s saying and settles for just watching.

Taehyung’s adorable grin flattens after a moment when he realizes how long he’s been rambling, that Yoongi hasn’t replied to anything in a few minutes. “Sorry you probably don’t want to hear about this I know it’s annoying when I info dump-”

“No, I was listening, keep going- that story sounds really interesting.”

He’s honest and genuine and he never looks away from Tae as he talks. There is something about the beta’s attention that makes Tae feel undeniably special. But less like a butterfly burning under a magnifying glass and more like a piece of sea glass in a child’s bucket. A treasure found to be marveled over. The attention makes all sorts of foolish emotions warm in Taehyung’s chest, nurtured carefully by every encouraging nod he earns from Yoongi.

If this is what Yoongi’s flirting is like they’re all doomed. There’s nothing more attractive than someone who is genuinely interested in your experience as a person. And Yoongi is invested, he wants to hear everything.

A beta. Taehyung hasn't been around many betas before. None of them have. Very few packs have Beta’s that stay for any length of time. But somehow Namjoon and Seokjin have managed to keep this one. It’s clear that Yoongi’s roots are here, his record collection is in the corner, and his flannel hangs by the door along with these beat up old shoes that look like something out of the 80’s.

Taehyung doesn’t have to look very far to find reasons why. Namjoon and Jin are sort of a power couple, they’re sort of perfect together. It’s hard to believe that Namjoon is both a doctor and only a year older than him and Jimin. Both of them are tall- just as tall as Taehyung and broader even.

By all measurable standards, the night is going fantastic until Jungkook has a seizure at their dinner table.

Triggered by what- who knows? It could easily be all the new scents in the room or the faintly flickering light that Yoongi’s been meaning to change in the living room. The spicy soup that Seokjin cooks or all the new scents tangling in the air overloading Jungkook’s cerebellum and plunging him headlong into it.

Dinner has barely started, there is still bites on the ends of forks, drinks being lifted to lips for first sips, when Jungkook’s body goes limp. He’s like a marionette with its strings cut. Limbs all limp and trembling, the whites of Jungkook’s eyes visible- only for a second before Namjoon guides him carefully to the floor.

Jimin and Taehyung operate with practiced ease. They’ve learned to see the signs right before it happens. Sometimes Jimin even thinks he can smell a subtle shift in Jungkook’s honey scent before his eyes roll back and his brain just shuts off and goes all wonky.

Yoongi and Jin watch on scared. Jin flinches, reaching, spilling a glass of white wine.

But Namjoon holds his head, and they hold each other and don’t restrain him except to keep him from flinching his arm into the leg of the chair which Seokjin takes and promptly yeets away from the youngest- the pup. They're all Seokjin's pups, he's already decided. Together the five of them wait for the twitching to stop because that’s all they can do.

Namjoon watches Jungkook and feels like he wants to cry, keeping time with his heartbeat thundering in his ears. Counting the seconds. He hadn’t expected something like this to happen outside of work hours. Seeing sick people when you’re not expecting to as a doctor- it’s jarring. Even though Namjoon’s used to it, it never gets any easier.

And then Yoongi swoops in when Jungkook’s body gives a particularly violent jerk, knees sliding across the linoleum floor, smashing his arm into the table leg in a way that looks incredibly painful. Yoongi doesn’t think- just follows his instincts and shoves his wrist under Jungkook’s nose.

Jungkook’s body heaves an unsteady breath of Yoongi’s chocolate scent and stops twitching. The violence in his wild limbs calming to a tremble.

Everyone just blinks.

He comes out of this seizure faster than others. Barely a minute before he’s blinking into clarity. His body’s first reaction is to press further into Yoongi. Curling around him on the kitchen floor. Knees behind his back as Yoongi threads his hand through Jungkook’s hair and holds him close.

The disorientation fades after a few minutes when they all help Jungkook up and onto the couch after the room has stopped swirling with colors like the filmy edge of a bubble. His brain trying to turn back on. Tae’s hands are shaking. Seokjin is crying a little, hiccupping. But he’s the least used to these kinds of things out of all of them, his shock is understandable. No one knows what to say, even less what to do.

In the silence, Yoongi turns to the three of them and calls it.

“That’s it, you’re staying.” His declaration rings with a tone of finality.

No one challenges him.

~-~

They move in next week, though they try to keep to separate bedrooms to make the transition from two packs to one a little less dramatic. It hardly works when Jungkook splits his time between the two rooms, when the others can’t help but wake up to the sound of pattering feet across the narrow hallway. Even on the nights he’s supposed to spend cuddling with Jimin and Tae, he somehow always finds his way into Yoongi’s arms.

He smells nice, or so Jungkook says, soothing. Especially on the days after the seizures. Sometimes Yoongi's scent is the only one Jungkook can handle.

It's so much more than that.

Jungkook’s seizures decrease dramatically after he moves in. Until they’re barely happening at all. Maybe once a month when before they’d been once or twice a week. He doesn't change his diet or his schedule. He doesn't change anything but his scenting sessions with Yoongi.

Yoongi doesn’t mind when he asks, always says sure and sits and lets Jungkook crawl tentatively to his side, rubbing their wrists together slowly at first and them more brazenly as the shyness wears away. And Yoongi tilts his throat up to let Jungkook have at it, cheeks all ruddy and blushy by the time he’s satisfied.

“We’re all a pack, we should all wear each other’s scents around.”

"You just want an excuse to kiss Jin Hyung in the nest Kookie" Taehyung teases, making the tops of Jin's ears go pink. Jungkook is a little bit obsessed with the elder omega’s nest.

"It's like a really sexy nest alright- you guys just don't get it because you're not omegas."

At the beginning Jungkook tried a few medications to get his seizures under control but none of them worked, either their side effects where worse than the seizures themselves or they hardly decreased their frequency. Yoongi's scent is better than any pill Jungkook could pop. Jungkook feels one coming on and a quick drag of Yoongi’s wrist along his throat stops it dead in his tracks. Or Yoongi shoves his wrist under his nose when Jungkook’s starts twitching, and the seizure lasts barely a minute. It’s not correlation, it’s causation.

Yoongi stops the seizures. He’s medicine made man, love made cure.

Privately, Namjoon thinks that he’d love to study it- the healing powers of betas aren’t something that’s well understood by science. When he accesses the hospital’s medical databases on his break, he finds that the evidence of any special beta healing properties is anecdotal at best and pseudoscience at worst.

There’s only one story in the scientific literature- from a beta doctor who says he cured his mate’s lupus after he gave them a mating mark. But the peer review on that alone is scathing. And in Namjoon’s agrees with it, because betas don’t mate.

For one beta to bind themselves to only one other person goes against everything that Namjoon knows about beta biology and sociology. There are even some in the field who don’t believe betas even can give or receive a mating bite.

One or two reports (that seem more like horror stories) he finds on his way down the rabbit hole of omegas and betas going absolutely insane after they’d tried to be bonded. They couldn’t be separated- that it seemed to hurt them if they were. Brain scans support this idea. Both of them had bright parietal lobes, actively experiencing pain when they were only a few rooms away from each other. Though noticeably less from the beta than their non-beta counterpart.

Betas can’t mate. At least not in the same way that omegas and alphas can. (And even alphas and alphas, and omegas and omegas- Namjoon’s progressive brain reminds him).

Things are changing, with Jimin and Taehyung in the house. Namjoon tries to be polite about it, watching both of them kiss over morning coffee, watching them nip and nibble. Tries to convince himself that his scent isn’t going heady and musky, that he’s not watching both of them over the top of his newspaper.

It becomes harder to ignore when both of them sit on either side of him and tangle their hands over the table. Pausing to feed him bites of Jin’s cooking saying, “alpha this is so good, you have to have it.” And Tae's gentle chiding of “good bite.”

It’s not so strange, is it? Two people of the same sub-gender loving each other, right? Namjoon’s instincts hum in agreement as he watches Jin and Jungkook roughhouse, Jin says something low and sweet that makes Jungkook laugh and Jungkook slaps Jin’s thigh in retaliation.

They all recognize the correlation between Jungkook’s health and Yoongi’s presence in the young omega's life. Jungkook’s seizures only come back if he and Yoongi haven’t spent enough quality time together or if he hasn’t been scent-marked or cuddled daily.

The near-overnight change is amazing. To Jungkook- it feels like he gets his life back.

At night Taehyung and Jimin look down at Yoongi like he’s a marvel. Like he’s the eighth wonder of the world. They kiss at his scent glands and even dare to nibble, as if to absorb part of him, so that they might keep Jungkook safe too. Making the beta gasp and his heart beat quick.

Honey and spice and vanilla- as good as Jungkook and Taehyung and Jimin. They join their pack, meeting Namjoon and Jin’s milk and coffee. Sometimes Yoongi just lies back up and breathes in deep. Enjoying the smell of all of them together and yet sure that they’re missing something.

“We smell like a bakery,” someone never fails to comment. “Yoongi’s bakery.”

It makes him feel good that he belongs here; this is where he’s meant to be he’s sure of it. But still- his heart has edges that still need mending. Or maybe he needs something to mend. Like arms he doesn’t know yet but can’t help but reach out for.

That something that their combined pack scent is missing happens to be the caramel sweetness of Jung Hoseok.

Another sweet-smelling alpha and sunshine incarnate.

(Next Chapter)

~-~

(Read the first Version of this story Here)

Notes:

- You guys really have no idea how much medical researched I’ve had to do over the years to talk about Jungkook’s seizures in an accurate way! Like literally I’ve had to look up everything. I would have thought grey’s anatomy would have prepared me for this but I guess those hours rewatching season 7 where wasted.

- I can confidently say that Jk probably has something called focal transmantle cortical dysplasia- which is resistant to treatment via medication and is either genetic or can sometimes be triggered by injury.

- Having worked in medical stuff for the last 4ish years- I can tell you without a doubt that if a patient acted like Jk with me I would be!!! Swooning!

- Okay but I’m a little in love with how Jungkook’s character changed to the beginning. Like “I’m like this naturally.” What a little shithead. I love him so much, he’s like lowkey my favorite character.

- Okay so, I’m not entirely sure whether or not my depiction of them as immigrants and the tangle of this being a kpop fanfic is like- alright? Because all cultures are different, and all cultural experiences are different and I’ve been reading a lot about the Korean diaspora. But I will say that like- I am an immigrant to the extent that Namjoon is in this story. Both my grandparents where in refugee camps before they came to America, they don’t have accents anymore but they still speak to each other in private in their first language. I’m American, I’ve never known any life than this and my mom calls herself American too, but I still feel in the middle you know? I want my depiction of it to be accurate but it’s not a focal point of this story in any major way- unlike for instance Jungkook’s illness or Tae's transition if that makes sense? I’m wondering how much I should talk about it and how much I should explain in this universe.

- If we’re talking like- actuality, I think that there is a possibility that Jimin could have presented as an omega in bily but because he grew up in such an abusive and stressful environment his body made him present as an alpha to better protect Tae.

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