#surgeon x lab

[thedeadthree]

me looking at my brain to CREATE 🥀✨😵‍💫

[eff4freddie]

Sittin'

Joel Miller x F!Babysitter Reader No outbreak Joel Miller AU - Words: 10k

Rating: Explicit, Minors DNI

You're working your way through medical school, supporting yourself by taking the occasional babysitting gig. One local single Dad needs someone to look after his 10 year old daughter Sarah on nights when he's late back from the jobsite. And it's all fine and good until your neglectful boyfriend decides to crash the party. Warnings: small age gap (Joel is 32, reader is in medical school), reader is babysitting Sarah as a side hustle to support her studies, Sarah is cute, reader has a shit boyfriend, Joel is trying really hard to resist, exhibitionism, thigh-riding, praise, dirty talk, thigh-humping, oral (f receiving), fingering, general defiling of a perfectly good granite countertop, Joel has opinions about how a woman should be treated as is not afraid to demonstrate them.

A/N: My attempts at writing PWP almost always end up like 10k lol. Whatever, I like a good slow burn. If you enjoy, comments and reblogs are always appreciated. Thank you - Freddie x

It was a hot night, the latest in a long line. You knew you were lucky getting to spend some of your evenings over at the Millers, simply because it meant you got to sit under Mr Miller’s air conditioner, the box wedged firm into the window in the living room, little droplets of water condensing and running down the pane of glass underneath it. You’d put a dishtowel down to protect the carpet.

You knew you were lucky, too, because once Sarah went off to bed you could spread your books over Mr Miller’s kitchen table, listening to the buzzing of the fridge as you tried to memorise the functions of the lobes in the brain. In class, your biomedicine professor had blown up balloons and handed out sharpies, inviting her students to draw the lobes in the right place, and yours had popped when you pressed too hard on the occipital lobe, and your lab partner had laughed and said that it was ironic, but you couldn’t figure it: the motor cortex would have been ironic, this was just startling.

You cracked your neck, rolling your shoulders and looking over to the clock on the wall. Nearly 10:30 PM. Mr Miller would be coming back soon.

Sarah was a good kid, and some nights she stayed up to ‘help’ you study, mostly by pointing to pictures in your textbooks and asking you to explain them to her. She’d hated the full-page coloured illustration of the eye, but had been fascinated by the heart, trailing her finger along the arteries, into the chambers, tracing the pathway in and out again. You’d make a cardiologist of her, yet.

Tonight, she’d only made it to twenty minutes past eight, her eyes growing heavy as she turned the pages of your book. This one didn’t have as many pictures, and you could sense her fatigue in the stuffy air.

‘What kind of doctor do you want to be?’ she’d asked, and you’d pulled your hair up off your neck to try and get some air on your skin. You weren’t sure how to explain it without sounding gruesome, without giving her nightmares. She was only 10.

‘When people have emergencies and they have to go to the hospital right away, they need to see a doctor to patch them back up again…’ you’d said, and she’d stared at you with a tiresome expression on her face.

‘I’m not a baby,’ she said, disapproving. You smiled at her.

‘Trauma surgeon,’ you replied. She nodded her head, deeming your answer satisfactory, and taking herself up the stairs to bed.

She was one of the easiest kids you’d ever babysat for, and over the years you’d racked up quite a roster. You’d started in high school, first saving up enough for the prom dress right in the storefront window, and then later keeping yourself fed during your undergrad. When you’d moved to Austin you’d rented a studio apartment in the back garden of a little old lady, a woman who had revealed herself to be an excellent cook if militant about her hydrangeas. You’d letterboxed the neighbourhood and picked up a few odd jobs but nothing lasting, until the evening you’d got a call from a very frantic Mr Miller, who was so beside himself he only asked how quick you could get there and didn’t even ask about your rates.

It turned out Mr Miller got caught up at the jobsite some nights, staying back later than he expected with his little brother to finish framing, or guttering, or wiring. He was running out of favours with his neighbours, he’d explained, and Sarah was still too little to feed herself. You hadn’t minded, his deep southern drawl doing something to you even over the phone, such that you found yourself cancelling plans just to go and sit on his couch that very evening, textbook over your knees.

Some nights with Sarah tucked up fast asleep you’d stand and stare at the pictures of the two of them, her holding up a soccer trophy nearly twice her size, him standing with his hand in his pocket, his other over the shoulders of a younger man you assumed was Tommy. If you were feeling particularly bold, or were procrastinating especially hard, you’d extend a finger and run them up and down the strings of Joel’s guitar, resting sentinel against the windowsill. You imagined his fingers pushing into the fretboard, the strings indenting the flesh.

It wasn’t even that he was handsome, although he definitely was. He was a young father, doing it almost entirely alone, and on any other man that would have made for grumpy, for overly tired, for entitled. On Mr Miller it made for kindness, for a nurturing type of strength, corded tight under his skin. For a single dad always thinking about his daughter, only ever wanting the best for her. For a man focussed on doing right for his family, small as it was.

You rolled your shoulders, the pre-frontal cortex just about beating you for the night. Just as you were wondering if the Millers kept any ice cream in the freezer, you heard the key in the front door. You listened as Joel followed the same routine, first toeing off his boots, letting out a little grunt as the second one hit the floor. You heard him huff as he stretched his back, rolling his hips in a little circle to try and get some stretch into them, before dropping his keys on the table and padding, surprisingly light on his socked feet, into the kitchen.

‘Hey, Sweetheart,’ he said, his pet name for you emerging on only the second time you’d sat for him and still, even after this many months, causing your stomach to do a little flipper.

‘Evening, Mr Miller,’ you said, and he tutted at you, moving over to the fridge and extracting a beer.

‘Told ya not to call me that,’ he muttered, but you could see the grin behind it. ‘How was my girl tonight?’

‘Perfect, as always,’ you said, smiling at him as he poured you a glass of sweet tea from the jug in the fridge without bothering to ask if you wanted any. You accepted it gratefully, suddenly noticing how dry your throat had become.

‘She’s a good kid,’ he said. He sat down, heavy, in the chair opposite you. The ceiling lamp buzzed above you both, and the light bounced off the fine sheen of sweat accumulating on his arms, on his cheeks. He glowed, even if it was under a layer of exhaustion.

‘You look tired, Mr Miller,’ you said, and he cocked a little grin.

‘You sayin’ I look like shit, Sweetheart?’ he asked.

‘No, never,’ you said, instantly regretting how quickly, how fervently, you had responded. He continued to grin at you, lopsided, the dimple on his right cheek popping out to greet you.

‘What is it tonight?’ he asked, and you held up your book to him. ‘The bio-mech-an-ics-of-thought: phys-ee-ol-o-gee of the brain,’ he intoned, before letting out a low whistle. ‘I don’t know how you do it,’ he said.

‘It’s interesting,’ you defended, unsure why. ‘So long as there are diagrams,’ you added.

‘So that’s where the magic happens?’ he asked, gesturing to the illustrated image of the brain in the centre of the page you had been working from.

‘This is where thought happens,’ you nodded. ‘Kind of like…where decisions are made.’

‘Must be a woman’s brain,’ Joel deadpanned, taking a swig of his beer. ‘Can guarantee men make their decisions someplace else.’

You caught a glimpse of something dark in his eyes as he glanced over you. You blushed, swearing it was just the heat, and furious with yourself. This wasn’t like you; you weren’t some shrinking violet type. You’d had boyfriends, you’d had fun in college. You had no idea what it was about Mr Miller that made you immediately go all giggly, all girly, but whatever it was you wished it would fuck off.

The two of you lapsed into a comfortable silence. You were used to this from him, the way his mind seemed to drift, the way he seemed content enough to let it. Gently, so as not to jolt him out of his thoughts, you closed your book, gathered your pens together. Everything tucked away in your bag you were surprised when you looked up to see he was watching you.

‘Apparently Sarah’s taken an interest in science,’ he said after a moment, his warm eyes watching yours for a second. You felt a tingle of pride in your chest.

‘Oh yeah?’ you asked.

‘Mmhmm, apparently after she pushed Simon Strzelecki off the monkey bars, she offered to patch him up again.’

You grinned before you were able to catch yourself.

‘That’s…very, umm…’ you trailed off and he huffed out a little laugh.

‘It’s very Sarah,’ he agreed.

‘M’sorry, Mr Miller…’ you started, but Joel stood up, waving you off.

‘Don’t be, Strzelecki’s a little shit’f the highest order,’ he said. ‘You gonna let me give ya a lift this time?’ he asked, and this time you shook your head at him.

‘No, I can walk it.’

‘Y’know I don’t like ya walkin’ around out there on yer’own,’ he grumbled, and you felt the insane urge to reach your hand out to rest on his bicep, to ease his evident discomfort.

‘I can handle it,’ you said, instead.

Something stole over his face for a moment, a sharpness in his eyes. For a moment you gazed up at him, the furrow in his brow deepening, the muscles in his jaw twitching as his eyes roamed over your face. Standing this close to him you were reminded how tall, how broad he really was. You dropped your eyes to his arms, crossed over his chest, and imagined him holding you with them, circling them around your back as you leant, safe, into his skin. You blinked yourself back to reality, worried for a second he could read your thoughts.

‘Know you can handle it,’ he said, his voice low, ‘just don’t like it, is all.’

You did this every time, this stand-off. You worried one night you would waver.

‘G’night, Mr Miller,’ you said, over dry lips. He nodded, once, at you, still evidently displeased something dark, something haunted, passing over his features before he brought them back into line.

He stood on the front porch, light still on, until you rounded his driveway and disappeared past the oak tree by the front lawn.

--

Mick was a guy from your Tuesday morning bio class, and you only realised he was your boyfriend when he introduced you to a few of his friends that way. You’d just gone with it, because it had seemed easier, and he was nice if a little full of himself at times. He was the son of the one the big ranching families, had been almost guaranteed a position at whatever college he chose on the day of his birth, hadn’t ever really considered that money was something you saved, something you worked for.

But he would never let you pay for dinner, and often he showed up to class holding a coffee just for you. You’d been on your own for a long time, had been self-sufficient well before you had any business to, and it was kind of nice to let yourself be cared for, if that’s what this was.

On nights when you had to work he would pout and complain, and you told yourself it was because he cared about you, because he wanted you around, even if some part of you knew he just didn’t like to be alone. Every once and while he would ask if he could come with you, ‘feel you up on the couch like it’s eighth grade’, and it made you feel exactly fourteen years old, like this was a summer job you had failed to grow out of. It didn’t help that he more than once referred to your sitting job as ‘cute’. His mother had stayed at home the moment she fell pregnant with Mick’s older brother, and as far as you could tell was yet to leave. You never asked about a future with Mick, terrified of what kind of picture he would paint.

On one such evening, after he’d been particularly insistent that you blow off your job and come and hang out with him and his friends, he’d starting blowing up your phone just as Mr Miller sat down beside you, weary-boned and sleepy-eyed, at his kitchen table.

You ignored the calls, tried to carry on reading even as Mr Miller arched his brow at your insistently vibrating device. You huffed, knowing at some point Mick would get bored.

‘You’re popular tonight?’ Joel prompted after a while, making you lose your place in the paragraph you’d read over at least ten times already.

You huffed out a sigh, reaching out and scrolling through the stream of notifications. He’d started texting, sometimes just sending a single emoji, sometimes entire paragraphs about how badly you were letting him down. You felt an ache bloom behind your right eye socket, and you reached up to your temple to try and massage it away.

‘It’s my boyfriend,’ you told him, and with your eyes still closed you didn’t see him scowl. ‘He wants me to come out to some bar with him and his drunk friends.’

Joel considered this for a long moment. When you opened your eyes they blurred under the sudden light, and you blinked away sleep to see him clearly again.

‘You should be out with your friends, it’s a Friday night…’ he said, almost looking guilty for a moment, and you rushed to reassure him.

‘No, no trust me…this is better. They’re boring when they’re drunk. And also when they’re sober.’

Joel smiled, straining just slightly, at this.

‘He a good man?’ he asked, and you scoffed a little.

‘He’s barely a man at all,’ you said, automatically. Later you’d reflect on this moment, feel it turn you inside out and scold your skin with the heat of your own shame. For now, though, you were too tired, and it was too hot in the kitchen, for you to catch it.

Joel caught it, though. He cleared his throat.

‘We met at college, and he’s…well, he’s kind of set up for life. He doesn’t have to worry about grades, or proving himself. He’s almost guaranteed his residency.’ You were aware you were starting to sound bitter, and maybe you were just a little. Something about Mr Miller, sitting at his kitchen table late in the evening with a beer, muscles wrapped in a plaid, his soft brown eyes watching you carefully, made you think he’d understand.

‘He doesn’t make you feel good enough for him?’ he asked, after a while.

You considered this, eventually shrugging your shoulders. ‘I don’t know if he makes me feel anything,’ you said, truthfully.

Joel leaned forward, elbows on the table, his chin resting in his hand as he watched you, gazed at your face.

‘What do you want him to make you feel?’ he asked.

‘Seen,’ you said, without hesitation.

‘Just seen?’ he asked. His voice was deathly quiet now, almost entirely gravel. His eyes were burning, sharp. You watched as they darkened, stealing your breath out from under you.

‘Desired,’ you almost whispered. He dropped a hand to the table, his fingertips only inches from yours, resting casual on your textbook.

‘What man’s out there runnin’ round this town not desirin’ you?’ he asked, almost as though he couldn’t believe it, and you felt scorching heat on your cheeks, rushing down your sternum, pooling heavy in your core.

You blinked, terrified to move in case you broke whatever spell had befallen him. He turned thoughtful, his eyes dropping to the woodgrain of the table.

‘Y’been working a lot here…can’t imagine hanging out with me and a ten-year-old girl is the same as bein’ out there, living your youth…’

You felt something heavy shift in your belly, something essential curdle and erode.

‘I like it here, Mr Miller,’ you said, all big eyes and almost quivering lower lip. Joel moved away, sitting up straight and peeling the label off his beer.

‘Pretty thing like you, shouldn’t be spendin’ all night waitin’ on us,’ he said, almost to himself. You shook your head again, but he was closing off on you, you could see it in the way his shoulders were folding, the way his mouth was tugging down at the corners.

Without even considering it, operating almost entirely on instinct, you reached your hand out to rest on his bicep. You watched as his eyes drifted close, a long exhale through his nose. He grimaced, almost like you were hurting him, until he lifted his hand and held yours fast to him, wrapping his paw around you.

‘I really love spending time with Sarah,’ you said, just over a whisper, as he stared hard at the table. You could sense he was avoiding your gaze, and you wanted to say something to draw him to you, wanted to give him a little nugget of truth that he could take into himself, hold deep and quiet in his depths. ‘I love spending time with you,’ you said.

He raised his eyes to yours. His hand was so warm over yours, your cheeks so pink in the sleepless heat of the late evening. You saw his eyes fall to your lips and you slipped your hand from under his, reaching up to trace the contours of his jaw with your fingertips.

‘Baby…’ he whispered, ‘I been’ resistin’ you so long, don’t know if I can…’ and you pushed a finger to his lips. You didn’t want him to break whatever spell you were both suddenly under. Didn’t want him to take this from you both, whatever it was turning out to be.

‘Don’t argue,’ you instructed, quietly. With brows saddled, he nodded his head.

And he didn’t argue. Not when you moved your finger from his lips and traced it down over the hollow of his neck, over to his pulse where it thundered under your tough.

Didn’t argue when you leant forward, pressing your nose to his, giving him time to pull away, to move from your lips.

Didn’t argue when you pressed them to his, a little soft and quiet thing, earning you a wanting gasp from him, a prize you would hold in the cavity of your chest so long as your heart stayed beating.

Later, when you had gathered yourselves, when he had gazed at you and you had felt the want in him mixing with the regret, with the necessity of the un-having corrupting the want to take and take and take, you had simply gathered your books, tucking them quiet and neat into the bag at your feet. He didn’t argue with you about driving you home that night, suddenly quiet in a way that set your teeth on edge, and you felt an ache in your belly you couldn’t account for when he closed the door. You waited behind the trunk of the tree at the end of his driveway, counting the minutes he left the light on for you after you’d slipped from view, giving up when you got past 15.

--

You were unsettled. Joel hadn’t called for two weeks, and you were starting to worry that you’d ruined things, your silly little kiss bubbling corrosive at the base of your spine. You couldn’t help going over the whole evening again and again in your head.

You should have told him you preferred spending the nights at his house, that the way it smelt like play-dough and sometimes sawdust, sometimes pine, was so unique to the both of them that you felt your nerves settle the moment you stepped over the threshold. That the house was warm and quiet, that you could spread out your books and something essential to you, that in this space with them you felt more yourself than anywhere else on the planet, even locked away in your little studio apartment, even just you and your reflection in the bathroom mirror.

You wanted to tell him Sarah was funny, and smart, and kind, and being around her made you nostalgic for the childhood you never had but ached for, that you felt all that time with her she was giving you something precious and absent, something simple and something sweet. That there were nights you weren’t sure who was sitting who.

You wanted to tell him you didn’t expect anything from him, that it didn’t matter to you if nothing ever happened, if he regretted letting you kiss him, if it had just been that it was too awkward in the moment to say no. Just that you wanted to keep sitting for him, just that if all you got was a casual conversation at the end of the evening and an argument about driving home that would be enough for you, because it would have to be, and so you could make it so.

You begged off seeing Mick for the second Friday night in a row, wanting to be available in case Joel called. You felt silly but you could use the cash. Your textbooks were $400 a piece, and next semester you were taking three classes. Just feeding yourself was enough to stop your studies in their tracks.

Two things happened in the span of ten minutes. A knock at your door stirred you from your lecture notes, and your phone rang. By the time you had it in your hand you were holding Mick back from your face, your palm to his chest, as you craned your neck away from him to speak.

‘M’sorry, Sweetheart, it’s just…I know, it’s a Friday…’

‘It’s fine, Mr Miller,’ you said, ignoring the way Mick was making smoochy faces over your shoulder. ‘I don’t have any plans.’

When you got off the phone Mick was pouting again, and you sighed.

‘I thought I was your plans?’ he said, and you shrugged at him.

‘It’s good money for easy work, babe,’ you said, the nickname sitting heavy on your tongue.

‘I can give you money,’ he said, pulling you towards him by your belt loops and nipping at your jaw. You cringed away from him.

‘That would make me your whore, right?’ you said, and he grinned at you, wiggling his eyebrows.

‘Never seemed to bother you before…’ he said, and you bristled against him.

‘The fuck does that mean?’

“Oh, fuck me, babe, make me yours…” he imitated, his voice high in a general approximation of yours. You blushed, furiously. ‘You think good girls beg like little whores?’ he asked, and you knew he was kidding around, knew that he wasn’t smart enough to do it without outright insulting you, knew that you’d put up with this shit before so there was no reason why he wouldn’t assume he couldn’t get away with it now. You knew the way he spoke to you was basically your fault, and you couldn’t yell at him now that the precedent had been set. You felt yourself crumple, landing with a thump on the edge of your bed.

‘I’ll tell you what,’ he was saying, grinning at you like he’d won his prize. ‘You put the kid to bed, and I’ll come by and keep you happy ‘til Dad gets home.’

You hated the idea, the thought of Mick in that space you’d almost come to think of sacred making your stomach churn.

‘No,’ you said, and you watched as he arched his eyebrows in surprise. ‘You can’t come in…’

‘Say no more,’ he said, grinning again, and for whatever reason, you didn’t.

--

He arrived, just after 9 PM, already drunk. You winced as he parked his car in the driveway, right in Mr Miller’s spot, worried for a moment he was going to swipe the mailbox when he took the angle too fast. He skidded to a stop mere inches from Mr Miller’s garage door and you exhaled, realising you were bracing for the sound of splintering wood. He ambled over to where you stood on the front porch, tugging at your shirt sleeves in the cool night air.

‘Babe!’ he called, and you shushed him almost instantly. He was carrying a sixpack of beers, three of them already gone. His breath reeked and you wrinkled up your nose when he slung his arm over the back of your neck and pulled you in for a sloppy kiss.

‘This feels like high school,’ he said, and giggled.

‘This is my job, y’know,’ you corrected him, but he wasn’t hearing you, backing you up against the side of the house. You thumped into the brick, wind temporarily knocked from your lungs before he was on you, slipping his entire tongue into your ear in a way that made your skin crawl.

‘Easy…’ you said, and he ignored you, his hand not holding the beers rising up to paw at your breast over your shirt.

‘Mmm…such a tasty little slut,’ he said, and you closed your eyes. ‘Little naughty baby-sitter.’

‘Keep your voice down,’ you stage-whispered, not sure how well your voices wouldn’t carry over the breeze in Mr Miller’s cul-de-sac. He leant down, resting the beers on the front porch so that he could grope you with both hands.

He groaned as he rubbed his cock at your clothed centre. You moved your face to the side, letting your eyes slide closed again.

You tried to think of a romantic movie. Tried to remember some of the fragments of the romance novels your mother had kept stowed under the bed and that you snuck into the den to read to your giggling friends. Tried to imagine a different man, a stranger’s hands on your chest, a stranger’s fingers pinching at your nipples. Tried to imagine what it would feel like if they found the sweet spot, if they sent electric shocks into your belly, into your cunt. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to push the sound of Mick’s heavy breathing out of your mind, focusing instead on rough and calloused fingers, the scruff of a beard teasing along your skin. Heavy accent and sweet pine, a groaned little ‘Sweetheart…’ as he slipped your shirt up over your shoulders.

‘The fuck’s going on here?’ you heard a gruff voice as your eyes sprang open, pushing Mick from you hard enough that he stumbled, backwards, landing on the grass.

‘Mr Miller!’ you exclaimed, shame burning bright on your cheeks as you righted your clothes. ‘M’so sorry, he just dropped by…’ you started but Joel was striding up his driveway, as you realised with a new flash of guilt he’d had to park on the street.

‘Hey, man…’ Mick was saying, his hands up in front of his face. ‘Just checkin’ in on my girl…’

You cringed, this particular pet name always feeling more like ownership when it came from him.

Joel looked up at you, his brows saddled. ‘You OK, Sweetheart?’ he asked you, and you realised for the first time he wasn’t angry but concerned, his fists balled up like he was ready to spring to your defence.

‘It’s Mick,’ you explained, glancing down at him as he tried to climb to his feet, getting as far as his knees and settling there for a second to plan his next move. ‘He…he wanted to…’

‘Yeah, I saw what he wanted to,’ Joel huffed out, reaching down to pull Mick upright by the back of his shirt. ‘Saw the way you were bracing away from it too,’ he said, looking directly into Mick’s grinning face.

‘What else you see, old man?’ he asked, and Joel dropped him back onto his knees.

‘You got your keys?’ he asked him, and waiting for the younger man to root around in his pockets.

‘Don’t steal my ride,’ he said, handing them over and not noticing when Joel slipped them into his pocket.

‘M’going inside, and I’m gonna call you a taxi, and you’re getting in. She can drive your car back to you tomorrow mornin’…if she doesn’t decide to drive it off a cliff,’ he said, abandoning Mick on the front lawn and coming towards you, grabbing your wrist gentle but firm in his hand and pulling you inside. ‘C’mon, darlin’,’ he said, and you followed, almost entirely on autopilot.

‘I’m so sorry, Mr Miller,’ you started but he waved you away, placing a call for the taxi while keeping you fixed in your spot with his glare. When he was done, he rolled his shoulders, sighing.

‘You sit,’ he said, striding into the kitchen and emerging moments later with two glasses of sweet tea. You realised, as you lifted your hands to take your glass from him, that you were shivering.

‘I didn’t know he was going to do that,’ you said, and Joel shook his head. You felt the waves of disappointment rolling off him and you worried for a moment you might cry.

‘He always touch ya like that?’ he asked, palming at the back of his neck.

‘Like what?’ you asked, your cheeks burning again.

‘All…clumsy and…disrespectful,’ he said, quiet. He stared at the floor between you while you perched on the edge of the couch.

‘Well…’ you started, but you weren’t sure how you wanted to finish that sentence. Sometimes he doesn’t even bother to touch me at all, you thought.

Joel scoffed, his jaw squeezed tight. ‘Guys like that are all the same, Sweetheart, just…selfish. Even in the bedroom. No lady should be touched like she’s a piece of meat.’

You considered, for one crazy moment, if Joel wasn’t so much disappointed in you as he was in Mick’s prowess. Suddenly you had to stifle a giggle.

‘What’s so funny?’ Joel asked you, surprised.  

‘Just…I mean, they all go to such fancy schools, get all that college for basically free…’ you started, trailing off when you saw him starting to smile. ‘He can’t even boil an egg, and I don’t mean mine,’ you said, and he laughed then, free and loud, and the sound of it made a little fizzle of joy spark up your spine.

This was fun, you realised, shitting on your terrible boyfriend with the most handsome single Dad you’d ever laid your eyes on. This was really, really fun.

‘So, I take it he don’t make you breakfast in the mornin’,’ Joel joked, and you snorted. ‘What you eat for breakfast, anyway?’ he asked, turning to you now, his eyes crinkling at the corners. You swallowed. ‘No, wait,’ he said, ‘let me guess.’ He pretended to look you up and down, his brow arching as he considered. ‘You’re not a waffles kinda girl,’ he said, thoughtfully. You grinned and shook your head. You’d never liked the sponginess. ‘But you’re too fun for plain old oatmeal,’ he said, and you felt a blush crawling across your chest. ‘You’re a pancake princess,’ he decided, finally. ‘Am I right?’

You pretended to consider it for a second before nodding happily at him. ‘Maple syrup and berries,’ you agreed.

‘Maple syrup and berries,’ he said, grinning in his victory. He paused, something passing between you. Suddenly he shifted forward, his knees just barely brushing yours. You found yourself mirroring him, leaning in enough that you had to put your hand out to steady you, landing it on the cushion only inches from his thigh. You could feel his warm breath on your cheek when he whispered in your ear, ‘tart…but a little bit of sweet for m’sweetheart.’

You felt heat scorch its way up your chest, reduced to kindling beside him.

‘Bet he don’t kiss ya like ya should be,’ he said, and you thought for a second of Mick, grinning and drunk out of his mind on the front lawn. You wondered if the taxi had come for him yet, and had absolutely no interest in going out to check on him.

‘Mr Miller…’ you whispered, and he groaned, then, his eyes rolling back in his head.

‘Please, baby, when you call me that…’ he trailed off, eyes blown wide and you felt, then, the thundering in your chest. From this distance you could see his racing pulse in his neck, the same pace as yours.

‘Mr Miller…’ you said, again, staring now at his lips. You wanted to reach out and just take a little nibble.

And he was on you, grasping the back of your head and bringing it down to him, crashing his lips into yours as you gasped, swallowing the echo down into his throat. His tongue, scorching hot, exploring your mouth as he teased it open, the scruff of his beard tickling your cheeks.

‘Thought about you…’ you said, without even thinking, and Joel pulled back a second to appraise you; your swollen lips, your doe-eyes gazing up at him.

‘Say that again,’ he mumbled.

‘When he’d take me, I’d think about you,’ you said, and you watched as his eyes fell shut, taking the moment to glance down at his heaving chest, the aching bulge between his legs. ‘Thought about your hands on me, Mr Miller, about your mouth.’

‘Fuck, Sweetheart…’ he said, almost as if it pained him, before his eyes snapped back open to gaze at you.

‘Kiss me?’ you asked, sweet as you could for him while you tried with both hands to hang on to the moment, to stay here in it with him. You would need to remember this, every corner of the room, every detail. Would spend nights reconstructing his face in your mind, the way he was looking at you now, wanting and red-cheeked, dark eyes and a hot little huff as your words landed their blows on him.

‘Canna touch you, baby?’ he asked, and you were nodding, pulling him towards you as he slid his hands over your waist. Threading your hands through his hair he brought you over him, straddling him on the couch as he stared up at you, brows arching high, as if he couldn’t quite believe it was happening. You smiled at him, feeling like his prize, as you brought your hips down on him and watched his eyes ease shut, heard his breath stutter. He was big, you could feel it even as the seam of his jeans rubbed at your core. You could feel yourself aching for him, hot and pounding where you ground yourself down.

‘Fuck, Mr Miller…’ you gasped as you felt him push his cock up into you, his hands on your hips and pulling you down.

‘So beautiful, baby,’ he whispered, reaching up with one hand to cup your breast, squeezing the nipple between his fingers that, even through your shirt, shot lightning bolts to your cunt. You gasped, a high-pitched little sound you were sure you’d never made before, and he soaked it down into his skin, kept it held tight and precious in the core of him, to keep him warm on cold evenings.

You felt yourself shivering, even as his warm fingertips dropped to lift the hem of your tee and trace their way back up to your tits along the skin. His enormous hands almost completely captured it, and you felt small, then, and shy, but when you looked down into his warm, brown eyes you saw only safety there, only naked desire for your pleasure.

You let your hips roll, that building ache in your core. You’d only ever felt this alone, had never had another person bring it out of you, and you felt the sharp edges of it as you felt a shard of panic slice through your gut. No one had ever done this for you, before. You weren’t sure if your body would allow it, weren’t sure if you could let go enough to fall.

‘Hey…’ Joel said beneath you, his eyes roaming your face. ‘Relax, Sweetheart,’ he whispered, reaching his hand from your hip to your jaw, pulling you down to rest your forehead on his. ‘Just you n’me, baby,’ he whispered as you rocked on top of him. ‘You can take what you need,’ he promised. ‘I got you.’

‘Joel!’ you gasped, the shiver in your body now ratcheting up your spine, your thighs burning as you rolled your hips on his lap, his cock still tucked away in his jeans. ‘I don’t know if I…’

‘Sssh…’ he cooed, raising a thumb to your lips and slipping it between your teeth. You sucked instinctually, swirling your tongue over the tip and letting your eyes drift closed. ‘Just feel it, baby,’ he said, ‘don’t force it. Let it grow.’

Never in your life had you felt like this. You took his thumb between your teeth as you ground, the spark of fear in your belly engulfed by the roar of your desire. You could feel your hips stuttering, could hear yourself starting to pant.

‘Good girl…’ Joel encouraged, slipping his thumb from your mouth now and smearing it across your lips. ‘Right here for ya, baby,’ he said. ‘Wantchya to feel so good.’

You cried out, smacking your hand over your mouth to stifle your cries. He was going to kill you, and you would let him again and again, let him bring you back to life just to kill you this way all over again. You had no idea bodies were made to feel this good.

‘Oh!’ you gasped, all the warning you could muster as he grabbed your hips with both hands, slamming his bulge up into you as he pulled you down, the seam of his jeans rubbing hard into your clit. ‘Yes!’ you whispered, your body shuddering as you felt yourself crest, the pleasure roaring from your cunt to your chest, exploding out of your skin as you rolled, roiled, boiled on top of Mr Miller.

‘Jesus, there she is…’ he whispered, and you opened your eyes to gaze down at him, your breath still coming in gasps as he watched you, awe and desire on his face. ‘There she is,’ he said again, like a prayer, a benediction.

--

You woke slowly, the dappled light streaming in through the oak tree beside Joel’s window. It took you a moment to orient yourself, to remember that you were in his bed because he’d considered it too late for you to take yourself home, even if you had Mick’s car. Because the pleasure he’d wrung out of you on his couch had left you boneless, because the idea of ripping yourself from his smell, from his heat, was unthinkable in that moment.

You stretched, noting that the other side of the bed remained made, that he had spent the night on the couch. You remembered that you had wanted to ask him to stay, that the words had formed on your lips, and that in that moment you saw the regret on his face, the longing to tuck himself in beside you and pull you into his chest, let the weight of the night take him and you with him, but that he wouldn’t allow it, that he was holding back. You weren’t sure why, but you assumed out of decency, out of respect. Out of some vague employee-boss professionalism you would both cling to in an attempt to paper over the grasping maw of desire opening up between you.

You had wanted him, and you had denied him, allowed him to deny you. You rolled to your back in a frustrated huff, surrounded by the scent of him, of his cologne and the scent of his skin imbued in the sheets beneath you.

After a while you heard noises in the kitchen and you left your cocoon, pulling your clothes on and padding down the stairs constructing a cover story for Sarah as to why you were still there. When you rounded the corner, though, you saw only Joel –in a pair of sweatpants and nothing else, standing at the stove.

‘Hey, Sweetheart,’ he said casually, as if you hadn’t come on his lap less than twelve hours before, ‘Sarah’s headed off to soccer practice, so you and me’ll have to take care of all these.’

He gestured over his shoulder to the kitchen table, where a stack of cooling pancakes stood proud. You felt a shiver of shock run though you at the sight of them, turning to Joel with the curl of tears tickling the back of your eyes. ‘No berries, sorry darlin’,’ he said, without looking up. ‘But we got enough syrup to make it up to ya, I hope.’

You weren’t sure anyone had ever done anything like this for you. You wanted to sob, wanted to walk over to the table and pick up the pancakes in your fists and mash them into your skin, wanted to drown them in syrup and eat until your belly distended, wanted to force feed them into Joel. Instead, you stepped forward, your arms opening all of their own accord, wrapping yourself around his back like a Koala. He huffed out a surprised laugh, growing serious when he turned you in his arms to face him, seeing the gathering tears at your waterline.

‘Hey, what’s this?’ he asked, and you grinned, watery, up at him.

‘No-one has ever…’ you started, catching your words before they spilled too much of the truth. Understanding passed over Joel’s face.

‘Oh, my sweet girl…’ he said, and you glowed for a minute, the words reaching down into your chest and igniting something long extinguished.

He leaned down towards you, pressed his nose to yours, his forehead resting gently on yours. You inhaled him, his scent and the sweet smell of the pancakes on the stove, tried to imprint the memory deep in your DNA.

‘What the fuck is this?’ an angry voice sounded from behind you, and you snapped away from Joel, taking several steps back. Mick, still in his same clothes from the night before, stood furious in Joel’s kitchen.

‘The fuck, you let yourself in?’ Joel asked, matching Mick’s anger with his own. ‘This is a private residence, man.’

‘That’s my girlfriend, man,’ Mick spat, his face twisting into an ugly mask you weren’t sure you’d ever noticed on him before. ‘The fuck you doing feeling her up? You stealin’ my car and my girl?’

‘Mick…’ you started but he was ignoring you, advancing on Joel. You stepped towards him, hands up to placate, but Joel was suddenly beside you, tucking you behind him and shielding you with his broad chest.

‘Back up, buddy,’ Joel said, a whispered warning.

‘Me, back up?’ Mick seethed, about to go on before Joel interrupted him.

‘Yeah, you back up. You need to sit your arse down and learn yourself somethin’,’ he said, advancing on Mick so that the younger man took several steps backwards, heading towards the kitchen table. You wondered if anyone had ever actually stood up to him, if usually his wealth was enough to make people cower. He backed into a kitchen chair, slamming down into it with a thud as he stared up at Joel, the older man red faced and pointing a finger at his chest. ‘You think that little display last night was any way to treat a woman?’ he grit out. You watched as Mick shook his head no. ‘You think she enjoyed that, being pawed at in the dark like a fuckin’ street walker?’ he asked.

‘She looked pretty whorish a few seconds ago,’ Mick responded, petulant and stupid. You could see by the way Joel braced his shoulders, his back expanding in resplendent fury, that Mick had made the wrong fucking choice.

‘Ya little shit,’ Joel said, stepping back from Mick and towards you. He held his arm to you, beckoning you into his chest and you went to him, tucking yourself against his side.

‘You have a woman like this, you fuckin’ cherish her,’ Joel muttered, tracing his fingertips along your side and making you shiver. ‘Look at these pretty little tits,’ he said, moving to cup them as you blushed, tucking your face into his neck. You heard Mick’s sharp intake of breath, mirroring your own as Joel rolled your nipples through your shirt. ‘The way you were grabbin’ at ‘em last night, you think that felt good? You make her groan like this?’ he asked, applying just the right amount of pressure on the sensitive nubs, eliciting a moan from you, unbidden.

‘Listen, man, this is…’ Mick started but Joel cut him off with just a look, stern and disapproving, before his face shifted back to adoration when he turned to you.

‘Let’s show him, baby?’ he asked, his brows saddled high. You knew you were safe with him, that at any moment you could call it off, but you wanted this. You wanted Mick to see what Joel could do to you, the sounds you could make. Wanted him to feel small and insignificant in the presence of a real man, of real pleasure. Wanting him to see what money couldn’t buy.

You nodded your head at Joel and watched as the grin bloomed over his face. ‘M’good girl,’ he said, quiet enough that only you could hear it, and you felt the bolt of want shoot down into your core. Your cunt already aching, already dripping for him.

‘Show me where,’ he said, stepping back as you surveyed the space. You nodded towards the kitchen island, the bench just above your hip height. Joel nodded, lifting you up easily to perch on the edge, your body facing Mick as he sat, frozen, at the table in front of you.

‘Slip these off, baby,’ Joel said, tugging at your sweatpants and you lifted your hips as he slipped them, your panties along with them, out from underneath you. The granite countertop cold on the top of your thighs you revelled in the sensation of it, the hard, cold surface so different to Joel’s hot body as he hovered at your side.

‘Show him,’ he said, tapping you on the knee. You spread your legs, hooking one thigh over the edge of the counter and the other widening out to your side, your cunt unfolding before the two men in front of you. You watched as Mick’s face turned pink, sweat appearing on his brow. You turned to look at Joel, the hunger in his eyes as he devoured every inch of your skin. He reached over, running his fingertips over the inside of your thigh, moving closer to you, leaning over your body to whisper into your ear.

‘You’re dripping onto my countertop, baby,’ he said, and you could hear the glee in it, the wanting.

‘For you, Joel,’ you clarified. ‘Not him.’

‘Nah, never for him, I reckon,’ Joel agreed, his fingers slipping further towards your slit. You felt totally exposed and wanton, whorish, as Mick had put it, and your cunt was pulsing, aching from the desire of it. You felt like a priceless piece of art admired in a big city museum, like a stripper opening up her legs for hoards of braying men, like a girlfriend letting her disappointing boyfriend know in no uncertain terms he would no longer neglect her. You felt power coursing through your veins and into your cunt, your slick pooling on the top of your thighs as the most beautiful man you had ever seen stood beside you and teased the pleasure from every nerve.

‘Fuck…’ you whimpered as Joel’s fingers landed light and dexterous on your clit, the little bundle of nerves sending the pleasure roaring through your core and into your chest. You bucked your hips, nearly slipping from the countertop, Joel coming forward again to brace you against his chest.

‘God, look how much she wants it,’ Joel said over your head to Mick. ‘Bet you’ve never made her jump like that.’ You opened your eyes, not even having realised they’d closed, to watch Mick swallow hard and heavy. You beamed back at Joel, letting the pride in his face radiate warmth down upon you.

‘So good f’me, so good t’me,’ he said, spreading your lips apart with his fingers and pushing a fingertip inside. You gasped, shock on your face at the intensity of the need for him burning where he touched.

‘Please…’ you whimpered, just wanting more and just wanting him to never stop, just wanting him to reach inside you, to wring the pleasure out of you, to make you come so hard you forgot your own name.

‘Sshh…’ he cooed to you, ‘your boyfriend needs to concentrate so he can learn.’

You emitted a squeal of frustration, bucking your hips on his hand to try and draw him in, earning you only a chuckle from Joel.

‘Ok baby, m’sorry. Just like teasin’ ya,’ he grinned at you, before sliding two fat, rough fingers hard into your cunt.

For a second you lost touch with reality, your head flying back to the ceiling as sensations strong enough to take your breath roared from your cunt. The stretch was delicious, the heel of Joel’s hand rubbing hard at your clit as his fingers reached deep inside you, opening you up for him, your slick gathering in his palm.

‘Look how wet she gets,’ Joel noted, over his shoulder to Mick. ‘Such a shiny little cunt when she’s drippin’ like this. You ever work her up like this?’

You heard Mick grunt, a pleading note of displeasure, and you sighed as Joel started pumping, stoking the fire in your cunt that threatened to eviscerate you and everyone within the vicinity.

‘Joel!’ you gasped, rolling your hips again, trying to shove him deeper into your greedy little cunt as it grasped at him.  

‘Could lick ‘er up, whatchyu reckon?’ Joel asked, already getting down on his knees as you groaned, certain now he was going to send you into the stratosphere. ‘Can I, baby?’ he asked, and you nodded, frantic, unable to form words.

‘Bet she tastes sweet,’ Joel said to Mick, who was inching closer in his chair, peering over Joel’s shoulder as your cunt swallowed his thick fingers. ‘Like watermelon on a hot summer day. You ever taste her, Mick?’ he asked. You watched as the shame bloomed over Mick’s face. Joel scoffed. ‘Course not, ya fuckin piss weak little prick,’ he spat before turning, diving in to lick a fat stripe at your folds, settling in to lap at your clit as his fingers worked you.

You screamed, sucking in huge lung-fulls of breath just to let them keen out of you, your hips slamming shut on Joel’s head as he sucked at you, every nerve ending screaming now as you felt the blooming heat of release.

‘Oh, he’s gonna make me…’ you said to Mick over Joel’s shoulder, watching you with owlish eyes.

‘Don’t talk to him,’ Joel admonished you, pulling your focus down to him as he perched between your legs, ‘you talk to me,’ he said.

‘Sorry, Mr Miller,’ you said, watching as his eyes rolled shut, a shiver passing over his shoulders.

‘Be the death of me…’ he muttered, returning his attentions to your pulsing cunt. You gripped his hair, rolling your hips on his face and rocking into him, chasing the release now gathering at the base of your spine.

‘Jesus…oh, fuck…’ you cried, trying desperately to warn him, your eyes slamming shut only to open in shock as he found new ways to wring the pleasure from you.

Joel worked you up, his tongue never fatiguing, setting up the perfect rhythm to hold you just on the edge. You could feel your sweat pooling on your skin, the heat in your cunt spreading down your legs, the pull of the knot in your belly.

To your utter dismay Joel stopped, lifting his face to address Mick at his shoulder. ‘You ever make her squirm like this?’ he asked, and you cried for him, then, scrabbling to grip his shoulders, his chin, to push him back to your desperate cunt. He laughed, nipping at your fingertips as they passed by. ‘Look at her graspin’ for me. You seein’ this? This is what real pleasure looks like.’

You cracked open an eye, the room spinning around you as you fought to regain control of your limbs. You saw the look of shame embedded deep into Mick’s face now, the sight of it somehow intensifying your pleasure, the building pressure in your cunt.

‘Fuck me,’ you gasped, turning your attention back to Joel, his eyebrows shooting up. ‘Show him how to fuck,’ you groaned, pushing off the countertop and spinning up onto your toes, laying chest down on the granite now hot to the touch from your writhing body on top of it. You spread your legs a little, knowing that your puffy little cunt lips would be revealed to them both, and you heard them both groan, Joel’s chesty moan full of grit, Mick’s high pitched and brimming with regret.

‘Don’t do this, man…’ he pleaded, and you heard Joel’s little scoff.

‘That’s the thing, buddy, the lady always gets what she wants.’

You felt him come to stand behind you, heard the rustle of his sweats as he pulled his cock over the waistband. It took everything in you not to turn and admire it, knowing in that moment you would have plenty of opportunity.

‘Fuck, she’s got me weepin’,’ Joel said, and you heard the unmistakable sound of skin on skin as he wrapped his hand around himself and tugged. ‘Got me harder than a railroad spike, this little cunt…’ he muttered. You whined, swivelling your hips to try and entice him, begging him to move faster as the walls of your cunt fluttered for him. You heard him sigh, a happy little sound. ‘Ok, baby, I’m here,’ he said, running a hand up your spine to hold you gentle and firm at the back of your neck, the head of his cock nudging at your cunt. ‘Gotta be gentle with my sweet little pussy,’ he said to you, leaning over you to place a chaste kiss in the cup of your shoulder blade.

‘Please, let him see it stretch me,’ you said, and you felt Joel shudder, notching himself at your entrance.

‘Keep talkin’ like that and I’ll chain him up in the basement, make him watch me fuck you every day,’ he muttered, pushing gently at first, the tip enough to make you gasp.

He was big, you realised. All of this time working you up he’d been leading to his moment, preparing to tease you open. ‘Oh, shit…’ you gasped as he pushed.

‘You ok, baby?’ he asked, pausing until you nodded, frantic, hands gripping at the edge of the counter for purchase as you pushed back into him, sliding in a few extra inches, as Joel moaned.

You were dimly aware that Mick was moving, coming to stand in front of you, a look of sorrow and unabashed heat on his face.

‘Please, can I?’ he asked, rubbing himself through his pants and you swatted him away.

‘No, fuck you,’ you said, emboldened by Joel’s desire for you, by his cock currently splitting your folds. ‘You never get this pussy again,’ you hissed at him, and you felt a bloom of pride at the look of hurt crossing his face just as Joel cheered from behind you.

‘That’s my beautiful girl!’ he gasped, bringing a finger to your clit and rubbing tight circles into it, making you gasp as you let your head fall, resting on the countertop. ‘So good f’me.’

The burn in your cunt from the way he stretched you abated, the pleasure Joel was giving you from your clit causing more slick to gather, your cunt grasping him again, your walls fluttering as you felt the ache turn to sweet pleasure, to a blooming rapture.

You lost touch with the ground, Joel’s harsh thrusts pushing you further up the counter, completely at his mercy as your legs hung useless beneath you, hands braced against the granite to give him purchase. In this moment, spread out on his cock, your cunt open and dripping for him, the pleasure ripping the words from your brain, gasps racking your throat, you felt completely under Joel’s spell, his touch, his heat. Mind-numb, thoroughly fucked out, gripped in this moment between the build up and the threshold of release.

‘Oh, you’re gonna make me…’ you warned but Joel had you, was there already with you.

‘I know, baby, I know,’ he grunted between thrusts. ‘Can feel it, can feel that sweet little cunt grippin’ me.’

You cried out, nodding your head furiously, entirely at his mercy now. ‘Yes, yes…Joel, it’s gonna…’

‘Let it go, baby,’ he moaned, and you felt none of the panic, none of the terror at your impending release, wrapped up safe in Joel’s body, in his groans of rapture, in the pull of the knot as it threatened to snap entirely.  

‘Watch me make her come,’ he spat out over your head, and you were only dimly aware of what he was saying as your release sped towards you.

You writhed, your breath stolen from you by the roar of the wildfire across your chest. The push of your orgasm slipping you under, crashing your body into the shore, rolling and quaking underneath it as indescribable lust coursed through your veins.

‘Oh, fuck, there she goes,’ Joel spluttered, his hips stuttering as he started to deepen his thrusts. ‘Gonna fill up ya girl,’ he grit out, his final movements sloppy and desperate as he approached the edge.

‘Do it, baby,’ you whimpered beneath him, words finally able to escape the cage of your throat. ‘Need you.’

He did, then, his come exploding into you and washing you clean, cleansing you of Mick, of all your disappointments, of all your fears. You looked back over your shoulder at him as he crested, his eyebrows saddled and his eyes trained on you, a look of reverence and hunger, of sweet shock, as though he couldn’t believe how good it felt either, as if everything for him was also slotting into place, as if he knew in this moment he would never let anyone separate you, would never let anyone take you from his side, that in his moment you were his just as much as he was yours, that this was a forging of something solid and essential, something vital and something precious, something that was just for you.

--

You didn’t remember Mick leaving. Didn’t care to say goodbye.

Joel had peeled you off the counter and carried you upstairs, drawn you a bath and lowered you gently into the water, sat beside you and washed your body as you lulled in and out of a light sleep.

Drying you off he wrapped you up in his clothes, swamping you in cotton and his scent, before promising to make you a fresh batch of pancakes. You hadn’t let him, whimpering when he tried to leave your side, pulling him down beside you on the bed and wrapping his arms around you.

Later you would figure out lunch, and then Sarah, and then the rest of your lives. For now, you had each other, and cool sheets, and the light patter of rain as a welcome cool breeze blew new life over the garden beneath Joel’s window.

[jensettermandu]

open heart - yu jimin

(valentine's day special)

genre; smut, fluff, gets cheesy at times

pairing; g!p karina x female reader

content; age gap (jimin is older), rough sex, hair pulling, praising, degrading names (?), fingering (reader receiving), p in v :D, think i forgot something

synopsis; jimin had never been the romantic type, but she wanted to try and make valentine's day work out despite how much work she and her girlfriend had because working at a hospital meant being on call 24/7. however to her luck, nothing unfortunately went as planned right from the morning because of simple misunderstandings and she ended up raking her brain for how to fix everything

wc; 12k+

masterlist.

a/n: im no doctor peeps, i just occasionally watch grey's anatomy so if anything is not correct medically that's not on me

It was enough that they were busy, that they didn’t have time for dates, and when they did they were already tired after working nonstop for hours. Night shifts, day shifts, working overtime, working for 12 hours a day if not 16 or 24. Being on call 24/7 as in literally because they were always on call.

That couldn’t be enough stress.

Y/n’s day got even worse as she stood in the patient's room, at 7:30 am, fully changed into her dull light blue scrubs and the white lab coat like every other intern in the room. She was exhausted, not because she was tired, but because of how her morning had started. 

The whole reason why she was doing her best to avoid Jimin’s eyes who stood on the opposite end of the bed as they were doing rounds. It was obvious enough, so obvious that she sucked air through her teeth and shot her fellow intern and friend over the time she’s worked there, Yunjin a glance when she nudged Y/n. She tried to get Y/n’s attention, curious about what had happened, the two pushing each other’s hands until Y/n gripped the red heads hand to keep it in place because it was starting to make their other attending doctor look their way all while Minjeong spoke–Y/n standing in the middle of the two. 

“Mrs Lee has a history of heart disease and multiple surgeries—” Minjeong who was yet another intern and friend with the two started. 

The two attending doctors consisted of Yu Jimin, head of cardiothoracic surgery and the general surgeon Miyawaki Sakura. Both of them were listening yet Jimin’s eyes were not on her patient, but on the intern, the one who she was a boss to in the workplace. 

“In for a beating heart quadruple C.A.B.G.” She finished explaining as they all stood around the older woman who lay in the hospital bed. 

“On Valentine’s Day.” Mark chuckled, it was enough to make all heads turn to the male intern who got nudged by Taeyong at the comment he made. “Sorry.” He apologised, and Sakura sighed as she was responsible for the interns. There was one thing for sure, this was the best yet the most difficult batch to keep in check as they were all talented interns with passions and a thing for doing things their way at times. 

Not to mention with a thing for other forbidden things too.

Jimin cleared her throat, and her stare fell back on Y/n who tried to avoid it, but it didn’t seem to work. The–technically–heart doctor had other plans. 

“Why keep the heart beating doctor Y/l/n?” In the end, the girl was the most talented intern out of all. 

Y/n forced a smile towards the older woman, hands in the pockets of her lab coat to avoid any more nudges from her friends. The two girls on each side of her looked at Y/n, eyes subtly glancing between the two. This time Y/n met eyes with the doctor who gave a small nod for the girl to talk. 

“Scar tissue is too deep–” The girl started, glancing at the older woman in the bed. Y/n knew very well why Jimin asked her. Whoever answered got to be on the case and Y/n knew that she couldn’t say no even if the rest knew the answer too. It would make her look bad and Jimin too if she lied and said that she didn’t know. It was a prestigious hospital. The last thing anyone wanted to hear was a doctor or intern saying that they didn’t know something. Of course, she would trap her just to talk because Y/n was good at avoiding someone if she wanted to. “The heart is too weak to start up again, so you only immobilise the portion you’re working on and you leave the rest of the heart on its own.” 

“Welcome to the case, Y/l/n.” Was all that Jimin said as she closed the thick patient file, making Y/n purse her lips as it got extended over the bed and with no other choice she took it. 

[A few hours earlier]

“Why are you still angry?” Jimin asked, trying her best to understand why the girl in the passenger seat was still pissed. She knew Y/n, and she knew how she acted when she was angry. The intern would ignore her, give her the cold shoulder, and if it got too much she would speak up because she always had something to say so giving her the cold shoulder was difficult. 

“What do you expect me to be, Jimin?” Y/n at last spoke up, looking out the window as they were driving through the early morning of Seoul. It was cold, but in February it gradually started to get better and the snow wasn’t present anymore. That didn’t mean that the mornings weren’t even more difficult because the last thing anyone wanted was to get up at 5:30 am, to get out of a warm bed and get out into the cold.

That was probably the worst part of the day, usually–Y/n was quite sure that the whole day was ruined for her because of Jimin. They never fought, it always worked out with small bickering here and there, but this was where Y/n drew the line at what was acceptable. It was enough that they were keeping their relationship secret–aside from Y/n’s friends knowing–a doctor dating an intern who worked under her would not look good for either of them. The last thing they needed to be accused of was favouritism or anything along those lines. 

The only reason why Y/n got picked so often was because of how skilful she was, not because Jimin and she were dating.  

“Not this angry?” Jimin unsurely questioned, her eyes glancing between Y/n and the road as they were in her car. The younger had spent the night with her at her apartment since Y/n lived with roommates–Yunjin and Minjeong–the doctor also lived closer to the hospital. All she wanted to do was turn back time to the morning when her alarm clock went off and prevent the fight from happening when they were still lying under the covers naked after the previous night.  

Jimin wasn’t the biggest romantic, matter fact she was terrible at extraordinary romantic gestures. Valentine’s Day had just started and she had already managed to mess up.  

She scratched at the back of her head, trying to figure out what she could even do if they both worked a 24-hour shift all while Y/n was talking. The doctor was listening though, she knew how to think and listen at the same time. 

“We’ve been together for almost five months and you’re still texting with your ex?”

Jimin knew she messed up, but it wasn’t for the reasons that Y/n thought that she messed up. She didn’t have any time to defend herself because there was more than just texting. 

“Not to mention, you never mentioned that your ex is working in the department next to ours.”

It all just started to pile up more and more and Jimin had a hard time gathering her words as she didn’t want to say the wrong thing. She never thought that it would matter since it was her ex, but maybe she hadn’t thought far enough. Far enough to think that it would ever come up somehow. Now it had and she realised that she had dug her own grave.

She had to explain why she was texting her ex all while trying to figure out what she could do for Y/n on Valentine’s Day. 

“What does it matter if I am with you and love you?” Was the best she could say because the intern in the car with her had stolen her heart. It was as if Y/n had laid her down on that operating table, cut her open and taken her heart out while Jimin was under anaesthesia because she had no clue when it even happened. 

“What does it matter? It matters if you’re still hung up on her.” 

The car came to a stop as she parked in her spot outside the biggest hospital in Seoul. The doctor turned in her seat and looked at the younger girl. Y/n looked right back at Jimin who looked at her in disbelief, but at the same time, she did her best to understand why Y/n would think that. She knew that she wouldn’t be too fond of Y/n texting with her ex. 

“I am not.”

Y/n rolled her eyes at that and unbuckled the belt. “Then why is she in your contacts?” She questioned, grabbing her things before opening the door. Jimin quickly tried her best to hurry up and get out of her seatbelt while trying to stop the girl from walking out on her this angry. 

“Y/n you’re–” Jimin groaned as the belt had to get jammed as she continued to pull on it. 

A cold wave brushed along her skin and hit her even harder when the door to her car slammed closed and she gave up on trying to undo her belt. The woman heaved a sigh and leaned back in the seat, watching her girlfriend walk ahead and meet in the middle with the batch of interns she was close with. 

It would be a long 24-hour shift.

[Present]

Jimin did her best to focus on the elderly woman whose heart she would be operating while Y/n was in the room with her. Her eyes kept glancing between the stethoscope she was using on Mrs Lee’s back and Y/n who was moving around and organising the rest of the stuff. All while informing the woman of how extensive the operation would be, making sure she knew the risks. 

She was wondering why she was never informed of the risks of falling for an intern like Y/n. 

The girl was too much for her poor heart.

“We’ll get you to the O.R. this afternoon,” Jimin concluded, removing the stethoscope and helping the woman lean back down before putting it around her shoulder. She could feel Y/n’s presence right behind her, looking over her shoulder. “You do understand the risks?” She asked to make sure, her eyes looking between Mrs Lee and her husband who sat in the chair in the corner of the room. It made her wonder how they felt on a day like this because she was feeling quite forlorn at the moment. 

Y/n was stubborn. 

“I’ll check back later,” Jimin informed Mrs Lee after getting the answer she needed. The doctor did not have time to grab the patient file when Y/n already had it. With one last polite smile, she quickly caught up to the intern who had just stepped out of the room. 

“Y/n, can we talk?” She questioned, her hand gently wrapping around the girl’s forearm as she stopped her and pulled her to the side right outside the room. It was hard to talk in the crowded area as they were constantly passed by nurses, interns, and doctors. Gossip spread like butter on a toast in the hospital. 

“If it’s about the patient, then go ahead Doctor Yu.”  

Now the last name came to play and so Jimin knew that it would take a lot more to get Y/n to listen to her. Or maybe the best thing to do was to let her blow off steam as it had only been a few hours since she snapped in the car. 

“Take her for a thallium scan and pick up her x-rays on the way.”

However, she just wanted to try and get a word in, to test the waters and see if Y/n was willing to forgive her for this. Her grip stayed when Y/n was about to walk. The girl who was just an inch taller stopped and the two looked at each other. Y/n’s features were soft yet they could come off sharp, especially her eyes and Jimin always got lost in her. It was enough to let her know that she had no room for mistakes. There were hearts at stake here, but she was quite sure that this wouldn’t cause any hearts to break.

Love was somehow more difficult than any open-heart operation she had ever performed.  

The noise of the hospital was almost deafening as so much was going on around them yet there was still that calm and silence among them because it was a hospital. The white almost blinding interior with the faint sound of machines smelled of antiseptic and it was a scent that brought comfort to the both of them because of how much time they spent at work. It was almost as comforting as listening to the beating of each other’s hearts and dwelling in the scent of one another, but even that scent would mix with the hospitals after being in it for hours. 

“She and I texted–” 

It was as if the only thing on her side today was despair and luck had thrown itself out the window on the highest floor in the hospital and splattered into a puddle with no one there to save it. Was there something she could do right today? It was enough that she sucked at romantic gestures yet still wanted to do something for Y/n, but when she wanted to try the world was opposing the idea. 

“Doctor Yu, intern Y/l/n—” Y/n looked away from Jimin whose grip slipped away from her arm and at the woman whom she couldn’t be mad at because Jimin was the one who wasn’t supposed to be texting her. She couldn’t be angry at the doctor who approached them. The intern smiled at her, politely bowing her head while Jimin kept her crumbling composure as she looked at her ex. 

“Can I borrow Doctor Yu for a second?” The woman questioned. Jimin looked between Y/n and the paediatrician from the department next to theirs. All she got from Y/n was a smile, her eyes sparkling in the fluorescent yet dull light of the hospital. 

“She’s all yours, Doctor Yizhuo.” 

And so Y/n left Jimin once again who watched the girl disappear after taking a turn, her eyes falling onto the woman in front of her. 

“Repairing hearts on Valentine’s Day when you should start with your own.” 

“Please shut up.” Y/n politely said as she sat down at the round table in the staff canteen, placing the tray with food down. Minjeong sucked air through her teeth as Yunjin chuckled. Despite being on Jimin’s case Y/n had been taking care of Mrs Lee alone and only talked to the doctor when it was needed, strictly work-related as she tried to give her the cold shoulder. 

It was lunch break at last and soon she would be in the operating room, doing an open heart surgery by Jimin’s side. The head of cardiothoracic surgery. She knew that the doctor had something to say, but she first needed to phantom the fact that she had been with Jimin for almost five months and suddenly she was texting her ex. Why would she never tell her that her ex was a woman she met every day and at times worked with together? 

“Why are you avoiding Doctor Heart Snatcher?” She rolled her eyes at Yunjin’s words–nickname coming from her field and looks– the two guys looked at them as everyone wanted an answer as to why Y/n was avoiding Jimin. Not only that but why the heart doctor’s lingering gaze lingered more than usual. It was almost filled with longing despite the two being in the same room. It was difficult to look at for them.

“She’s texting with her ex,” Y/n grumbled, using the chopsticks to play around with the food on her tray as she could barely eat from the bitterness that covered her heart. It was causing her heart to twist at the sour bitterness that got caused by being away from each other. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to mend it by simply going to the person who was an expert when it came to hearts. In a few hours, she had to be in the O.R. and would be stuck in that room with Jimin for six hours if not more. 

“What?” Mark was the one to exclaim first, pushing his tray forward and resting his elbows on the table to lean closer to the girl who sat opposite him. 

“Are you serious?” Yunjin asked next, looking at Y/n with her head tilted. 

“Yes she still has her ex in her contacts and…” Y/n trailed off, still baffled by the fact that she had even worked with Jimin’s ex without knowing it. It wasn’t like she would let it get in the way because she was professional at work, but she would have felt less of a fool if she had known. It was almost embarrassing to admit.

“And?” Taeyong asked.

“She works here,” her voice withered as she said it in a whisper. Minjeong offered her comfort by patting her thigh before going back to eat her food. “Told you it was a bad idea to date Doctor Heart Snatcher.” She mumbled and Y/n dismissed her as she grabbed the water bottle, unscrewing it. The vixen frowned. This wasn’t enough to make her doubt Jimin was it? Has it been a bad idea to date her?

“If she knows how to fix a heart she surely knows how to break it too,” Mark commented.

“She hasn’t broken my heart–” Y/n cleared the air as they made it sound like they were going through a break-up when all she was doing was taking some time to process it. “I’m just pissed she didn’t tell me and that she is texting her for whatever reason.” The longer that she thought about it the better it would be to hear the reason why. Maybe she had been a bit too impulsive with her accusations and should have listened to Jimin first. At the same time, she was too stubborn to let her ego down and ask after avoiding listening to her in the first place. 

“Who is it though?” Taeyong questioned and Y/n subtly glanced around. The canteen was busy with staff members who had their breaks, everyone eating together and chatting. Natural light was cast through the big windows and this was one of the few places that wasn’t as dull because of the eye-hurting fluorescent lights. It was always busy, but not with people running because their pagers went off or pushing patients through the halls. Shoes didn’t squeak as loud because it all got muffled by the people who were talking. 

The scent of antiseptics wasn’t present either and that was what stole comfort from this place for Y/n. 

“I’m not telling.” She knew that it wasn’t her place to reveal her girlfriend’s past and private relationships to anyone even if they were her friends. It was enough that they knew about their relationship even if they had been hiding it for the first few months until Yunjin walked in on them about to remove each other’s clothes after forgetting to lock the on-call room. Luckily enough it was Yunjin and not someone else who could get them in trouble–such as any envious workers or Jimin’s boss who did not tolerate doctors dating first-year interns. 

“I bet it’s that nurse Aeri, they’re so close.” Yunjin started to guess as Y/n ignored what they were saying, trying to eat some of the food to be able to stand in the O.R. for six hours. 

“Why would she be close with her ex?” 

“Well, she’s texting her so they’re still close.”

“Texting and talking face to face is different.” 

“Not when it’s your ex.”

“What if it’s Doctor Miyawaki?” 

“That would be even worse.”

“Do you guys not have your own private lives to worry about? As far as I remember neither of you have any plans for Valentine’s Day and that’s why you all took the 24-hour shift.” The intern finally came back into the conversation that died down right after she finished her words. 

“I’d say something, but Doctor Heart Snatcher is on her way here.” Y/n looked up from her tray and looked to her right where Yunjin was and looking past the girl she spotted Jimin. No matter how pissed she was, there was no room in her to deny how attractive her Heart Snatcher actually was in her navy blue scrubs, white lab coat, her black hair up in a ponytail, and her eyes always on Y/n.

This was the same woman who she would stand with for six hours in the O.R. and both of them loved their job enough to not get distracted by each other. It was yet another thing Y/n loved about Jimin, the fact that she managed to learn so much from her and how work and relationship-oriented she was and made it work out with this demanding job.

She made it so much harder to avoid her and before Y/n knew it the woman was by their table, hands in the pockets of her white coat, the nameplate pinned right over her right breast by the small pocket with a blue ballpoint pen. 

“Y/l/n could we talk for a second?” Jimin asked, clearing her throat as their eyes were on her as she stood by the edge of the table where Yunjin was. Her eyes scanned over no one else but Y/n who opened her mouth, making the doctor wait in anticipation. The intern was only in her scrubs now, her hair clipped back with her wispy bangs gently falling over her face. Jimin didn’t even want to look at anyone else. 

“Oh–” Y/n let out surprised, pushing her tray forward and planting her hands against the table. “Oh, that’s my pager, I’m sorry Doctor Yu, I have to prioritise the patients.” The intern excused, pushing herself up from the chair as she bowed at her boss to be polite. Jimin felt even more confused and she watched the girl walk away with a slight job, still sure that she did not hear her pager go off at all. It was somewhat humiliating, but she probably deserved it. She heaved a sigh and looked down at the rest to see Minjeong suppress the snicker with a cough. 

“Was I the only one who didn’t hear her pager go off?” She questioned them as she removed her one hand from the pocket and rubbed the back of her neck, she looked where Y/n was to see the girl walk out of the canteen. 

“Nope, I 100% heard it…” Yunjin said, looking up at the doctor. 

“Yeah, it went off,” Minjeong confirmed and Jimin looked back down at them with her lips pursed. 

“Kind of loud in here so you probably didn’t catch it,” Mark added. 

“Exactly.” And Taeyong finished. 

She knew that she had run off because she felt stupid for not listening to Jimin the first time she tried to explain it. It was one of the causes and now more doubt had grown in her from hearing her coworkers talk about it. The perspective only got worse as she walked to the changing room that they all shared. It was empty and her pager never went off. She not only was texting, but talking, however, they worked together at times so they obviously would talk face to face. 

Y/n knew that she had no reason to be insecure. 

With a sigh, she opened her locker and stopped from reaching for her phone when the little pink sticky note caught her eye as it was stuck right to the locker door on the inside. She had no lock on her locker, no one did since everyone knew each other well enough to know that no one would steal anything. It was the first time she had any notes stuck on the inside of her door though. 

The girl licked her lips and took it down to read what the blue letters said.

Our hearts are a muscular pump, that’s why exercise is so good, but just one look at you and mine gets the exercise it needs. 

She didn’t know what to think, but the thought of it being Jimin to leave it there made her suppress a smile. Y/n couldn’t be sure though because the woman never said things like these and she might as well be smiling over a note that someone else left because there were a few other interns interested in the girl. Jimin wasn’t romantic, she had her ways of showing love, but they never came this way. The intern folded it and stuffed it into her jacket’s pocket so she could ask her girlfriend if she was the one behind it. 

Y/n didn’t expect a next time, but the next time she did stumble upon a note was when she went back to Mrs Lee to take her vitals and she opened the patient files. Soon enough she had the open heart operation she would get to watch Jimin perform as she would help. It did let her narrow it down to who it could be but she was doubting that the male nurse was leaving the notes since he wasn’t supposed to be in the intern's locker room and neither was Jimin, but still. 

She bit her lower lip and glanced up from the file at the woman with her husband, red roses standing by her bed with a card. Y/n had never been big on these things, but she realised that maybe she was if just a note made her feel a bit giddier because of Jimin than she usually got. The words were so cheesy, but somehow that made it even better. 

The reason why my heart receives blood that is low on oxygen is because you always steal my breath.

It was melting the facade Y/n had tried to keep the whole day just to show how pissed she was, but Jimin made it impossible. It was impossible to stay mad at her girlfriend because with each second that passed in the operating room, Y/n realised how good of a girlfriend Jimin was. 

The intern stayed focused on the task at hand just like everyone else did. Somewhere between those blurry lines between focus and daydreaming, she found herself staring at the beating heart. 

She knew that love wasn’t connected to the heart, all emotions were regulated in the brain. However, the only thing she realised whenever she was in a room with Jimin was the way the doctor made her heart beat faster. It was the sole reason why love was associated with the heart. The heart spoke for love and no one listened to their head when it came to love. Despite the brain regulating these emotions, it was the heart that let her know that it was Jimin who hit the bell and made her heart ring. 

The only time she did notice her heartbeat was with Jimin because she made it pick up its pace. 

The heart they were operating was right in the open and partially numb but beating and somewhere along those lines was how they made each other feel. They numbed everything around them, leaving their hearts right in the open for the other to reach for it and nestle inside of it. 

“Mrs Lee is doing well.” The doctor commented, making Y/n lean in slightly closer to Jimin to get a better look at the beating muscle as they stood shoulder to shoulder with each other. The intern was taking care of the suction and the operation was coming to an end, making the rest strike up small conversations.

“Did you know that the heart can beat even when it’s disconnected from the body?” Jimin mumbled, making Y/n subtly glance at her for a split second before looking right back down. Y/n knowingly hummed at the words, wondering what Jimin was trying to reach since these were random facts and nothing new she was learning. 

“That’s why mine is still beating.”

“What?” The vixen questioned, her eyebrows furrowing at the words that confused her. 

“It’s in your hands.” 

Y/n widened her eyes at the bold words Jimin said out loud and only confirmed that she was the culprit behind the notes. It was bold, not because she said them, but because she said those words while everyone stood in the theatre above and could hear them talking. Was this some kind of statement? Was she trying to prove something? Maybe Y/n was reading too much into it, but Jimin barely referred to her as Y/n when someone else was around just to not get caught. 

“Doctor–” The girl tried, unsure of where Jimin was heading with this because if this was a statement Y/n was getting flustered. Suddenly she felt worried that Jimin’s boss was possibly up there watching them and was hearing this. It would get them both in trouble. However, she did not get to stop her because the doctor had other plans. 

“There are four chambers in the heart, each holds about 70 ml of blood–although each one of mine is filled with you.” Y/n’s eyes glanced at Jimin again, but quickly went back down to the heart that was beating steadily compared to the wild horses in her chest. The doctor looked mostly unaffected but that wasn’t weird since she was supposed to be composed under pressure. Y/n knew how to take pressure without letting her knees buckle, but Jimin truly made hers weak in a way no one else did. 

The words were so cheesy and it only made it worse, especially if everyone else was hearing them. 

It burned her ears and she wanted to hide.

Y/n barely had time to register that the operation was successful and had ended by the thoughts racing in her head. However, Jimin stepped back, holding out her hands as they pulled off the thick gloves she had been using to operate. There was no time to ask questions now as everyone was praising the other, saying ‘good job’ because it was a team effort in the end. The vixen removed her single-use gloves and threw them in the trash as she undid her mask and took it off after walking towards the exit. 

Finally, Jimin’s eyes met her, those brown eyes were so much more intense now and Y/n wanted to hear every little thought that was behind them, especially the reason behind this. The two of them walked out of the room where they just had to stitch the woman up. 

“What was all that about?” She questioned in genuine confusion, unsure if her tone was harsh or just confused. Her hand reached for the surgical cap and she removed it while the older woman was already washing her hands in the big sink as they were the only ones in the scrub room. Jimin only hummed back with just as much confusion, and now it was coming off as a confusing game to Y/n. Was the doctor messing with her? Or was all this genuine? 

Jimin wasn’t cruel to mess with her this way. 

“Why were you saying all that in front of everyone?”

“You didn’t like what I said?” Jimin confusedly asked and looked to the side where Y/n stood and washed her hands. Her eyes lingered on the girl who was staring down at the water that was running down the drain. The question made her look up though and she shook her head with a frown as it wasn’t what she meant. 

“That’s not– that’s not what I meant.” She didn’t have the cheesy lines in mind, but the fact that they were said in front of everyone else. In the next hour, it would be known around the whole hospital that there was something between them. Gossip was always working its 24/7 shift at the place without any breaks. 

“Then it doesn’t matter.” She concluded, turning off the faucet and flicking her fingers to rid of the excess water before reaching for the paper towels in the soundless room.

It truly felt like some little game to Y/n now. Was Jimin fooling around now? If so Y/n wanted her to admit to it now. 

“What doesn’t matter?”

The intern turned off her faucet, grabbing the paper towels she got handed by the doctor who removed her surgical cap. She shrugged at Y/n’s question and reached over to the girl who almost flinched away at the intimate touch when Jimin brushed a hair strand away from her face. It wasn’t intimate on that level, but it was when the door from the operating room opened and the rest were starting to walk inside. 

“If everyone heard it. If you liked it then it doesn’t matter.” She gave Y/n a small smile, hand dropping down and giving the younger’s shoulder a light squeeze before she passed her. Y/n turned on her heels, following out right after her though. The area was empty as people only walked by occasionally and at the corner of her eye she could see Minjeong and Yunjin waiting at the top of the stairs, trying to stay out of sight to listen in on the two. Doing a poor job at staying subtle at all because even Jimin glanced at them. 

“Jimin–hold on, you can’t just walk away without finishing this.” This time Y/n was the one to grab the woman’s hand that was warm to the touch and Jimin grabbed hold of the girl’s hand. She squeezed her before letting go as she turned to look at Y/n. There was something about the soft smile on her lips, but it wasn’t enough for Y/n to figure it out. She needed more, but she wasn’t getting more. 

“Sorry, I have to get going, I have something important to do.”

“What is more important than our relationship right now?” Y/n seriously questioned only to not get an answer as the doctor walked away without another word. There was no way the intern was going to chase after the doctor who seemed in a rush. 

Was she getting back at her?

Was this really how her Valentine’s Day would look like? Despite the anger she had felt before, she was longing for Jimin. 

She looked towards the stairs to see Yunjin and Minjeong quickly walking down them and it made Y/n start walking away from them. It wasn’t a second before they caught up to her, hooking their arms with hers to make her walk with them. 

“There are four chambers in my heart–” Yunjin started with a sigh, leaning into the intern. “Each filled with you.” Minjeong finished with another sigh. 

“Who was up there?” Y/n questioned instead, ignoring the teasing and how they repeated the words that had come from Jimin. 

“Honestly, Doctor Kim was there, and a bunch of interns.” Doctor Kim who specialised in neurology was another Doctor whom they worked with just like they did with Jimin. It made Y/n suck air through her teeth as she knew how much stricter Kim Chaewon was compared to Jimin. 

“What if she tells the Chief?” Y/n knew about the two competing surgeons as both wanted to be the next chief of surgery. This could ruin Jimin’s chances and Y/n was now drowning in worry and a twinge of anger at how careless the heart doctor was. 

“Then you will most likely get in trouble.” Yunjin deadpanned, receiving a look from Y/n and Minjeong at how much worse it made everything. The girl was already aware of how they could get in trouble. They had been secretive about it for a reason. It wasn’t like it was forbidden, but the chief of surgery would deem it unprofessional and have his doubts about giving the position to Jimin next. 

“I just need a snack and then I am taking a nap.” Y/n declared as she slipped her arms out of the two girl’s hold and stopped at the vending machine. The two leaned on each side of the vending machine, keeping the conversation going as they looked at Y/n who looked like she was in a huge dilemma. 

The vixen was worried about what could happen now. She knew Doctor Kim could bite just for it to sting and hurt because she would do everything to become the next chief. She could be cruel. 

Did that mean she would have to break up with Jimin? Or Jimin with her. For the security of her spot as the next chief. 

“Oh, Doctor Heart Snatcher has you in the mood for a snack?” Yunjin teased to lighten the mood she by accident had made worse. Y/n glanced at the redhead who shot her eyebrows up in a suggestive manner as she looked her up and down while doing so. All it took was for the intern to walk in on them making out once and all hell let loose because she made Y/n look like a sex addict–which she was not, if anything she blamed Jimin. 

Minjeong seemed to get a different memo by the words as she leaned closer to Y/n with her shoulder holding her up against the vending machine as Y/n crouched down to get her stuff. 

“Are you pregnant?” She asked in a whisper and Y/n glanced up at her in silence while getting the bun from the slot. 

“That is not what she meant by that, Minjeong.” 

It left the girl thinking for a bit as Y/n stood up, now the two taller girls stood and watched Minjeong piece it together. “Oh…Oh! Oh, that kind of snack.” She exclaimed, realising that it held a dirty meaning and not pregnancy cravings. 

“Yeah, but the snack that I mean is a bun and then sleep since Doctor Yu seemingly is ignoring me now after ruining our future together,” Y/n explained as she showed the pack she had picked up before walking away from the two to head to the lockers and get her phone before heading to the on-call room. 

“Already thinking about a future together.” Yunjin snorted as she pushed herself up to use the vending machine. 

“You’re just jealous no one asked you out for Valentine’s Day.” 

“We’re in the same shoes.” 

“Speak for yourself, I’m not on the 24-hour shift, matter fact I am heading out right now because I have dinner plans.” Minjeong smugly said as she started to walk away.

“Dinner with your mum does not count.” 

“Shut up, at least I got asked for dinner by someone.”

Y/n grumbled under her breath, the pack with the bun between her teeth as she was busy with her phone while walking. The walk to the locker and then to the on-call room took an extra ten minutes because she had to speak to Mrs Lee's husband and tell him about her procedure. Jimin would usually do so, but she had disappeared into thin air and left it for Y/n to handle.

The text was for Jimin, hoping she had her phone on her to answer because Y/n knew she was on a break after the 12-hour shift they had worked. All they were to do now was be on call while resting and they would be called in during the next 12 hours. Y/n knew that soon enough her break would be over, she gave it an hour, a chance of a bit more. She needed more because she needed to talk to Jimin. 

She opened the door and was just about to send the text, but was stopped by the voice. 

“Finally, Doctor Y/l/n.” The voice startled Y/n who looked up, quickly catching the bun that fell from between her lips. 

“Jimin,” Y/n exclaimed somewhere between annoyed and still startled by the unexpected guest yet one she had hoped for. She turned off her phone and stepped inside fully as she closed and locked the door after her. Her eyes landed on the doctor who was in only her scrubs now, her hair down as she sat at the edge of the twin-sized bed. 

“Come here.” She gestured, holding her hand out and Y/n raised her eyebrows. She hesitated, especially after what had happened between them a good 30 minutes ago. Jimin gave her a nod of reassurance and motioned with her fingers for Y/n to walk over to her. It was all it took for Y/n to push herself up from the door, placing her stuff down on the table on the way before taking hold of Jimin’s hand. 

The woman pulled Y/n over to her and pulled her until she had the girl in her lap, straddling her. “Are you going to say something cheesy and run off again?” Jimin chuckled, looking up at Y/n, her one hand caressed along the girl's thigh while the other reached up to her. She reached her hand over to the back of Y/n’s hair and took out the hair clamp, letting her hair fall loosely over her shoulders while putting the clamp aside.

“Do you want me to say something cheesy again?” She questioned, her hand ran to Y/n’s hip as she pulled the girl even closer to her, making the latter grab hold of her shoulder. 

“Yeah, but I’d like to know what you were thinking and about what happened this morning. Some cheesy lines won’t make me forget.” It made the doctor hum, her hands gently roamed Y/n’s body, caressing and slowly finding their way under the shirt she had on to touch her waist. Their eye contact didn’t falter for a second and it was then and there that they both realised their heartbeat that had picked up. 

This was love, the brain may have registered it, but the heart felt it. 

“Okay, I had to talk to the chief about something and do something else too…” Jimin trailed off, her eyes shifted away from Y/n’s this time. It made Y/n frown as she tilted her head, waiting for the woman to continue. She sighed and dropped her hands, fingers carefully playing with the material of Y/n’s scrubs as she licked her lips before she continued with her eyes back on Y/n’s. 

“I talked to the chief about—well, about us because it’s been almost five months and I thought it would only be fair for you and me if I talked to him about it instead of assuming that he would be truly against it.” 

“What?” Y/n asked, her eyes sporting a look of even more confusion and worry. There were only two possible ways for this to end and she only wanted one of them, but it felt like the one she didn’t want had a stronger chance of being true. 

“Wait, don’t worry…He was just a bit disappointed that I am in a relationship with a first-year intern, but somewhere along the lines he understood that it doesn’t interrupt our professionalism.” 

“So, it’s fine?” Y/n asked to clarify, feeling the weight untie itself from around her heart as she caressed Jimin’s warm neck. Her fingers gently traced her skin, feeling the faint goosebumps and shivers that came from the older one. Jimin held onto Y/n’s forearms as Y/n intertwined her fingers behind the doctor's neck who nodded.

The girl had been right, Jimin was trying to make a statement even if it was reckless since she did it before talking to the chief. 

“I hope you can listen to me now without slamming a door closed in my face.” The intern rolled her eyes at the words as she hadn’t given Jimin a chance to speak earlier. It seemed like the perfect opportunity had been created because they were both still dwelling on the fact that their relationship didn’t have to be a secret. “No interrupting either.” Y/n nodded, giving in as Jimin’s thumbs softly caressed the skin of her forearms. 

“I don’t even have small remnants of feelings left for her as it never was serious and that was why it ended. It’s always work-related because if you had taken your time to check you would see that she was asking for my work number because of an upcoming operation and while at it she only asked how everything was going in my department and it ended after I replied.”

Feeling stupid was an understatement. 

It made Y/n clear her throat and glance away, Jimin trying to find the girl’s pretty eyes because she always liked having eye contact with Y/n. The girl kept avoiding eye contact and it drove Jimin to reach for her jaw and make her look at her. 

“See, baby, it wasn’t as serious as you thought it was, but maybe if you had listened to me you would have spared yourself some nerves.” There was that tone that made Y/n’s facade crumble and melt right into Jimin. 

“Okay…Maybe I did react a bit quick, but you don’t expect your girlfriend to text with their ex and so it just came with a shock with no time to think.” Y/n tried to explain, doing her best not to melt into a puddle right away and hold herself a bit longer even if the ice was melting because of the warmth of Jimin.

“And I’m sorry, I should’ve said something sooner.” It made Y/n lean in, Jimin moving her hands to hold the girl's waist. Their lips met after a long day of itching to ease the loss of not being against each other. It was a simple kiss, coated in honey as Jimin held onto the girl’s waist.

“I forgive you,” Y/n mumbled and tried to kiss her again, but was stopped as the doctor turned her body and Y/n watched her reach over by the pillow. She chuckled at what she had missed when she got dragged into Jimin’s lap and the doctor turned back around. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” Jimin knew that it wasn’t much, yet the smile on Y/n’s plump lips let her know that it was more than enough when she accepted the brown fuzzy bear that was hugging a rose. The girl took it with both hands as she looked at the bear. Considering how busy they were, she knew that even getting a hold of a teddy bear was a great task and it only meant so much more to the girl. 

“I also have another line for you.”

“Yeah?” Y/n questioned and Jimin nodded.

“There are three layers of the heart wall, you have broken down each of them and gotten to the middle in a way no one else ever has–” This time the words were deeper, they weren’t just some cheesy pickup line, but a confession that was growing deeper than love. It let Y/n know that Jimin loved her but did more than just love her, she trusted her as she had opened her heart to her. It wasn’t easy, especially because of how they barely had lives outside the hospital, but yet here they were, making it work. 

“You seriously have, doll.” 

“I love you so much.” Y/n groaned and wrapped her arms around Jimin’s shoulders before attaching their lips again. This time the kiss picked up gradually when their lips parted and their tongues met in warmth and slickness. The doctor pushed her tongue against Y/n’s, pressing and tilting her head to get closer. 

With ease, she manoeuvred them around and laid Y/n down on the bed who dropped the bear right beside her head as Jimin got between her legs. Their breathing grew deeper in the small on-call room, slowly heating it as the small ventilation wasn’t enough to cool the heat their bodies produced when they were with each other. Especially when they were so close. 

“I love you.” She barely managed to breathe out between their desperate breaths as she bunched up the pillow case in her fists. Y/n hummed, catching Jimin’s lips again, her legs wrapped around the woman’s waist, pulling her closer, close enough to feel her cock slowly growing hard against her heat. It was enough to make her groan and push closer into Y/n, her hips started to gyrate to get the much-needed friction that they both craved. 

“Fuck, Y/n—” She breathed out, the girl under her tugged onto the scrubs so she would remove them. The moment of passion only grew a fire that got bigger with each passing second of the shared intimacy. That moment when their hearts beat in sync and yearn for the other so much that it’s hard to hold back. “You want my cock, don’t you…My good girl, my good slut wants my cock.” She breathed out, lips dragging over the intern's skin as she kissed down her jaw.

It did not matter, Jimin always did a 180 in the bed and wasn’t just that sweet heart doctor, but someone who made Y/n’s thighs tremble and beg for more with some sweetness to her. 

“So bad, I want to be filled by you.” 

“I will fill you, fill you with my cock and ‘dump all my cum inside you. You like that don’t you?” 

Her kisses trailed lower to Y/n’s neck, the kisses wet and tender, her teeth dragged along and she wrapped her lips around the thin skin. She could feel Y/n’s heavy pulse on her tongue as she gently sucked with her hard dick fully pressed against Y/n’s cunt. The girl under her pushed more into her, being able to feel the prominent bulge of Jimin’s cock right against her throbbing heat.

“I love it, I love every inch of you inside me and on me.” Y/n breathed out beside her ear, hands pulling Jimin’s navy blue shirt up along her back. She pulled away, sitting on her knees to take them off together with the one she had under, throwing them on the side of the bed. The younger sat up, the doctor not waiting as she grabbed the hem of Y/n’s light blue shirt and let it mix in with hers on the side. 

Her hand reached into Y/n’s hair from behind and she gripped it, pulling the girl back to meet her eyes. The grip stung, Jimin pulling on Y/n’s silky strands of hair like she always liked to do and Y/n enjoyed. Her eyes landed on those glossy with passion and love eyes, she trailed down to her wet lips and she leaned back in, wanting Y/n’s tongue against hers.

The vixen kissed back, Jimin’s figure towered over her and her hand cupped her girlfriend through the blue scrubs where her cock was straining. It made the latter huff through her nose and close her eyes tighter while pushing her tongue against Y/n’s. The scalding cock was fully erect, making Y/n tug down on the pants to the second layer that were the boxer briefs.

“Touch it, touch every inch you want inside your slutty little pussy, Y/n, it’s all for you.” Her words were clouded, deep with the moment as Y/n’s fingers ghosted over the outline until she reached the tip that was leaking right through the grey boxers, leaving them stained with pre-cum. Y/n’s lips were left parted, panting against Jimin’s as they moved before she swallowed her whole again. She palmed the hard cock, feeling each inch that would be inside her.

Jimin let go of her hair and reached behind her, doing a quick job at swiftly undoing the bra. Y/n let it fall down her shoulders, and the latter sat back on her heels, eyes falling on the breasts that perfectly fit in her hands as she cupped one of them. The vixen let out a light moan, enough to make Jimin’s dick twitch at the sound. It made her grab Y/n’s petite waist to pull her into her and lean down, her mouth latching onto the plump breast as she held onto the girl who was back in her lap as she sat back.

Y/n pressed down her heat against Jimin’s, hips slowly moving with hands gripping onto the dark hair with the warm tongue coating her chest in saliva. It made Jimin whimper just like Y/n did, her cunt pressing down hard against the throbbing cock under her aching cunt when the doctor grazed her teeth over the hard nipple, gently tugging. 

“You’re my pretty whore, Y/n. Just mine.” If there was one thing she liked to do it was to remind Y/n of who exactly she belonged to. Her lips wrapped around the soft and warm flesh, sucking on it to leave her marks. It made Y/n moan, nails digging into Jimin’s shoulders and back to her shoulder blades as the girl wanted her closer, chest pressing into the teasing mouth that played with her nipples and marked her breast. 

Jimin hummed, it came from the back of her throat and her grip tightened on Y/n’s waist with fingers digging into her skin as she tried to get her even closer. She loved wrapping her arms around the small waist or having her hands on it, pulling on Y/n like a doll. She helped her grind down against her hard cock, Y/n whimpering right by her ear as her clit pressed right against her tip with each stroke. 

The younger could feel how damp her underwear was, her clit throbbed for Jimin’s touch, wanting nothing more than to be stretched out and have her girlfriend fuck her right into the bed. The wet sounds of Jimin’s mouth latching at her breast occupied the room together with their heavy breaths, the faint buzzing of the ventilation dead. One hand let go of her waist, the other still guiding her to continue grinding against the cock. 

It made Y/n close her eyes when the doctor cupped her breast, her mouth still sucking on her skin. Thumb grazed over her nipple before Jimin moved and groped at her chest, feeling up Y/n’s body because she loved nothing more than exploring every inch before fucking her. It didn’t matter if her cock felt like it would explode. She tugged on the nipples, gently nipping and twisting, it was enough to make Y/n squirm and whine, unsure if she wanted more or if it was too much. 

“Jimin–” She breathed out, the latter trailed her hand down from her waist and harshly groped at her ass. All she got in return was a grainy hum, too busy with the small chest that she enjoyed playing with so much. “I need your cock.” Y/n pleaded as it wasn’t a want anymore, but a need. Her walls were clenching, waiting for that familiar stretch that would fill her to the brim and her grinding only got sloppier and harsher from how desperate she grew for her. 

It was only then that she pulled away from Y/n’s chest, her lips swollen and wet. Her eyes fell on Y/n’s, seeing all the need in them, she could feel it from the way the girl was pressing against her, thighs squeezing, but nothing was happening. Y/n heaved at the intensity, Jimin’s hand coming right up to her throat as she grabbed hold of her and pulled her closer. 

She could feel the thudding pulse under her fingertips, her parted lips brushed against Y/n’s parted ones. It made her lean back when the vixen tried to kiss her, it tugged at the corner of her lips at how much she needed her. To see Y/n need her this much turned her on further and her cock was aching to push right inside the confines of Y/n’s snug and warm pussy. 

“Are you all wet and ready for me? Will you be able to take everything at once? I can only fuck my whore once she knows she will take everything without complaining.” The husk made Y/n’s skin crawl with warmth, thighs clenching as she was wet enough to take every inch. She didn’t have time to think it through because her lips spoke before her brain thought in these moments of intimacy where all she could think with was her heart that in the end made the best decisions when it came to her love life. 

She was with Jimin in the end.

With a hand still wrapped around her throat, Y/n’s hand reached for the other one that was gently kneading her breast. Jimin smiled as Y/n grabbed her wrist and she let the younger guide her hand. “I get so wet every time you touch me.” Y/n breathed out, guiding the hand past the hem of her scrubs before Jimin slipped it further down with Y/n’s nails dragging along her forearm. 

It made the intern's breath subtly shudder at the fingers that ran over the damp underwear. “My pretty doll, so wet for me.” Her fingers teased, gently rubbing over the material, making Y/n buck her hips and hold back on the desperate whines when she pressed down on her clit. It was aching, throbbing with pain from how badly she needed it. Jimin leaned in, gently kissing the girl’s jaw while she slowly pulled the material of the girl’s underwear aside. 

Her fingers found their way to Y/n’s wet folds, the slick smeared as she ran her fingers through them, only pulling away from her jaw to look at the expressions that Y/n made. The fingers ran through the sensitive and swollen lips, gathering the slick, coming down to circle her leaking hole and greedily taking more to create a bigger mess because Jimin enjoyed making her a mess. All the while Y/n let out faint shaky breaths through her lips, hands gripping harder onto Jimin’s shoulders, hips trying to push into her fingers as she circled her swollen clit, slowly playing with the bud that was so sensitive.

“You sound so pretty for me,” she mumbled, eyes set on Y/n’s face whose eyebrows furrowed and a gasp fell from her plump lips at the speed that increased on her clit. Jimin hummed, the smile not leaving her lips as she ran her fingers down once again, this time two slowly pushed inside the greedily clenching hole. She slipped into the wet tightness of Y/n’s pussy, the girl feeling the slow stretch that was getting closer to satisfying, but she still needed more. 

Her hips moved against the fingers that were knuckles deep inside her, looking for friction on her clit from the pad of Jimin’s palm. A whimper fell from her lips, this time louder than last time when the doctor gave in to the need and pressed her palm against the clit while curling her fingers. That spot that made Y/n squirm was right under her control because she had learned her girlfriend's body to every inch. 

“Are you going to fuck yourself on my fingers? Such a desperate whore that she fucks herself on my hand. Thought you wanted cock to fill your cunt.” She chuckled as Y/n leaned forward, her lips by Jimin’s ear, her hips still moving against the fingers that slowly scissored inside her to stretch her out. 

“I do–I want your cock to fill me.” She breathed out, her words humid against the woman’s ear who left a kiss on her jaw. Jimin could wait, but only so long, and hearing how needy Y/n’s whiny voice was she wasn’t going to wait longer to bury her cock inside the girl. They were playing with time in the end as they could get paged any second. 

There was a loss of contact when the fingers that were deep inside her throbbing pussy pulled out. Y/n pulled back, a docile look in her eyes to plead even more while watching Jimin take the slick-covered fingers between her lips and suck them right in. The taste lingered on her tongue as she licked her fingers clean off of Y/n’s wetness that she loved. Her hand rubbed Y/n’s waist as she did so. 

“Be a good whore and get naked for me, doll.” Her tone was calm yet demanding and Y/n wasn’t one to disobey the older one. She got off of Jimin’s lap and the older watched the girl strip out of her bottoms, her hand running along her length through her boxer briefs. Her cock was throbbing under her palm and her breathing got deeper as she squeezed her length at the sight of Y/n fully naked now. 

With a rushed and harsh grip, she manhandled the girl’s lithe and light figure that she liked the best when she was dressed in her birthday suit. It made Y/n quietly whine at the rough yet arousing treatment as she was pushed onto her knees, forearms resting against the mattress as Jimin got behind her. 

“Such a pretty face and pussy.” The doctor grumbled as she pushed down her boxers and freed her throbbing cock, the pinkish tip leaked with precum, waiting to release everything into the confines of Y/n’s pink pussy. 

The vixen waited in anticipation, her back arched with hands running over her ass, hips and over her spine before going over her waist. The touch was soothing, making her melt at how good it felt to even have Jimin’s skilful hands run over her body. She could make the harshest treatment feel gentle and steady with her hands.

She gripped onto Y/n’s hip, her other hand grabbing at her base and she guided her tip through the wet folds. The feeling made them both shudder as she coated her member in the juices that were leaking, spilling down Y/n’s thighs. As it glistened from the slickness she brought her tip to the girl’s entrance.

“Can I enter you, doll?” Y/n could die right in her spot because Jimin always made sure to ask. 

“Yes…” The girl breathed out, feeling the big tip right by her hole and it made her head drop to the pillow when it at last protruded and slowly sank into her, splitting her folds and slowly buried itself deep inside her.  

Jimin gripped harder onto Y/n’s waist at the tightness around her cock that sucked her in. Her other hand gently pushed down against the arched back as she tilted her head back and dwelled in the feeling with her lower lip between her teeth. 

“You feel so good, your pussy feels so good around my cock.” She mumbled, her chest heaving as she stalled her hips once she was filling her girlfriend to the hilt. 

Y/n twisted the sheets in her fists at the stretch and feeling stuffed, she could feel Jimin’s cock everywhere, feeling it all because she was raw inside her. The way the vein throbbed and how hard she was. It was overwhelming the slight pain from how good it felt. 

Jimin exhaled sharply through her nose, needing time to get ready herself once she entered Y/n’s cunt to not explode right away from the snugness. She ran her palm along Y/n’s spine until she reached her shoulder and gripped it, holding onto it and her waist before she slowly dragged her hips back.

“I’m going to fuck you good, my needy whore deserves it.” She mumbled under her breath more to herself but Y/n still heard it clearly, eyes still closed and her head leaned back as she almost pulled out fully. 

Y/n gasped, writhing under Jimin’s hold when her hips slammed right back inside her, the grip tight on her skin as it was hard enough to leave its marks behind. “Oh, my—fuck.” Y/n choked out as Jimin felt like she had given enough time for both of them to get all ready and her hips started to move, starting slow before she gradually increased the speed of her moving hips. 

The cock dragged along Y/n’s squelching walls, hitting the perfect spots as Jimin angled herself perfectly. The slapping of her pelvis against Y/n’s ass grew in the room, each thrust followed by Y/n’s whines, pleas, cries, and whimpering moans, creating the mess she loved to make the intern. Her cock slid effortlessly in and out, going deep and hard, picking up her pace only to slow down with her eyes trained on the way Y/n’s body arched and pushed into her with her vision going blank now and then from the way her eyes would close at the feeling. 

The wet slapping bounced off the walls, Jimin completely getting lost and not being able to think about if anything could be heard outside the door and neither did she stop Y/n’s squeals when she drilled deep into her. The slapping grew harder and louder, tainting their skin slightly in the process. 

It was burning Y/n’s body, her body moved with each thrust as Jimin went deep and slow before going fast, it was making her mind go blank. The bed squeaked–the on-call rooms used as hook-up rooms for everyone–Y/n was letting out squeaks herself at the pleasure that shot through her with slight pain. It was too much but she didn’t want any less or any more because too much was perfect. 

Jimin clenched her jaw, her body getting covered in heat, a sheen of sweat draping over her skin as she huffed through her nose, guttural groans falling from her now and then. Her eyes fell between their conjoined heat, watching the way her cock appeared and disappeared inside the glistening pussy, coming out covered in slick and getting slammed back inside, making Y/n move forward from the force. 

“Ah, fuck–” Y/n cried out at a particularly hard thrust making Jimin slow down to not hurt the girl as she knew that she got lost in the pleasure easily when it came to Y/n. 

“You’re taking me so well, my little doll to fuck and have squirm under me.” Her hand soothed along Y/n’s waist as her hips rolled deep and slow now. She ran her hand right under and found her way to Y/n’s slim stomach. Jimin pressed down on the girl’s lower belly as she pulled out and slammed right back inside. She could explode just from the way the gesture made Y/n arch her back and let out another high-pitched moan.

The cock kept hitting at her g-spot, feeling Jimin much deeper, knowing exactly where she was because of the hand that pressed against her stomach. The pleasure became tenfold and she was slowly reaching her peak as her ears were muffling everything and she was losing all her coherent thoughts. All she could think about was the cock that was drilling right into her cunt, the way it made her thighs quiver and her vocal cords release any sound they wanted with no control, the way her body was succumbing and losing all touch just for Jimin. 

Jimin had other plans as she let go of Y/n’s shoulder and gripped the silky and long hair for leverage instead. Y/n whined at the pleasurable pain that forced her to arch even more and look up from the pillow where her cheek was pressed. There were tears in her eyes when Jimin finally got to look at the girl she got to look in the mirror that was hung up right above the desk in front of the bed's foot. 

“Look at me when I fuck you–” It was a demand, not a question that harshly left through the doctor’s lips whose hips were snapping against Y/n. “Fuck I want my whore to look me in the eye, I want to look at your pretty eyes when you cum around my cock, doll face.” She groaned, Y/n obeying her as she watched how Jimin’s eyebrows furrowed, her face contorting into deep pleasure the second she got to look at Y/n’s face which portrayed how good she felt getting nailed into the bed. It boosted Jimin’s ego, letting her know how good she managed to make her girlfriend feel. 

She wrapped her fist around the hair, getting more leverage, her stomach flexing and hand running from Y/n’s stomach to the girl’s swollen and throbbing clit. Her eyes trained on Y/n’s face whose eyes rolled and fluttered, the sounds spilling out of her lips. The walls tightly squeezed Jimin’s cock, making her groan at the feeling and in return thrust harder to get anywhere because of how tight the girl was getting the closer she was. Her walls clamped down on her cock with each thrust, hips meeting and getting louder. 

“Jimin–Jimin, I’m–” She couldn’t finish the words that were left in a desperate cry. 

The heat in her stomach was tingling with the need to be released, snapping out sooner than later as Y/n’s body tensed up. Her vision went black, ears muffled, barely being able to hear how the train of light and whiny moans escaped her lips. The sight of Y/n coming around her, her pussy spasming around her cock, throbbing around it, her eyes rolling, back arching, it all made Jimin fall right off the peak when she reached it. Her breathing grew harsh as it all came over her too. 

Y/n felt the tears run down her cheeks, whimpering at the feeling of Jimin’s cock growing harder before the creamy warm cum spilled and painted her walls. She felt each rope shoot right into her cunt, her hearing slowly coming back and being able to hear how Jimin let out light moans with her hips stuttering into Y/n to fill her the best she could, wanting every drop inside the snug pussy. Occasionally tugging on her hair as her body convulsed at the orgasm. 

“Fuck, you took it all so well, baby.” She breathed out, her grip loosening on Y/n’s hair, their chests heaving to catch their breaths as a moment of silence fell upon them. Jimin swallowed down the thickness in her throat, blinking her eyes open, slowly pulling out, making Y/n let out a light sigh. 

The older helped the girl lay down, treating her like a fragile porcelain doll. With her dick still wet she tucked it back inside her boxers, pulling up the scrubs that were resting around her thighs. She got pulled down right after and managed to fit herself by Y/n’s petite frame on the twin-sized bed. 

“Are you alright?” She asked to make sure, her arm wrapping itself around Y/n’s shoulders who hugged at the woman’s waist. Jimin grabbed hold of Y/n’s thigh, pulling it to drape over her torso to have her closer. The doctor twisted and reached behind her with her free hand, pulling out the fuzzy teddy bear with the rose that was under her. 

“Yeah.” Y/n mumbled, trying to gather herself as her breathing was still heavy, Jimin’s fingers gently running through her hair this time. Her eyes watched as Jimin held the bear, making it sit on her stomach and face them with her fingers fiddling with the fur. 

“Did you know that sex is healthy for the heart? It can bring down the chances of a heart attack by 50%.” Y/n chuckled at the words, burying her face into the crook of the woman’s warm neck who breathed out a chuckle at her own words. 

“I love you,” Jimin spoke, craning her neck and leaning down to peck the top of Y/n’s head. It made the girl pull away and looked up at the older woman. She hummed and pushed herself up, still feeling Jimin everywhere and on her lips once again when she leaned down for a slow kiss. 

“I love you,” she pulled away for a second as they looked each other in the eye and she pecked the woman’s lips once again before pulling away fully. “This was probably the most romantic Valentine’s Day so far.” Y/n admitted. It was so different yet in a way that was special because so much had happened. 

Jimin raised her eyebrows as she pushed herself up to rest against her elbows as she looked at Y/n who reached for her clothes because they still could get paged. “Really?” She questioned, gently bouncing the teddy bear against the mattress from how the words made her feel less worried that it wasn’t enough. It made her feel giddy to know that she succeeded in the end. She watched Y/n put on the scrubs before she sat back on the bed, facing Jimin with her fingers dancing over the doctor's bare stomach, trailing gentle patterns. 

“Yeah, I got to operate on a heart with my girlfriend, and we no longer have to pretend to be just coworkers.” Y/n said as her fingers ran up to where Jimin’s heart was, circling the area as she could feel the way it was pounding against her ribcage. It made Jimin grin even more and Y/n leaned back in to kiss her heart doctor. 

Maybe Valentine’s Day hadn’t gone bad at all even if they couldn’t go on a date or do something together outside the hospital. Somehow everything they had done today was romantic in its way and there was no need for grand gestures.

[coco-loco-nut]

Broken Bones

pairing: george russell x reader

summary: George gets in a wreck and you happen to be the surgeon on-call.

a/n: i loved this prompt, i hope you love it ❤️

masterlist

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George was enjoying his home race, he was holding P3 with a comfortable lead due to some great defending earlier in the race. Unfortunately for him, mother nature decided to put her hand into the race and have a pop up rain shower come through.

“It should clear through shortly, let’s keep with the softs,” his engineer says, hoping to outsmart those pitting for inters. George says a quick response and continues focusing on the track, especially the dry line. With the rain pouring, he catches a wet line in turn 4, sending the car spinning and into a barrier.

You rush down a couple floors to where you have been paged. Being the only orthopedic trauma surgeon in the hospital and on-call, you have to make haste.

“Is there really no one else to take this?” you ask, looking at the chart that has initial images and the patient information.

“Big fan?” the nurse beside you asks as you mentally plan the procedure. Most of Britain is basically a fan of the racing driver.

“Yeah. It’s not ethical, but I took an oath,” you tightly smile, beginning the process of scrubbing in.

“You are a great surgeon, you will have no problem keeping the fan part of you out of your mind,” the nurse reassures you. You take a couple deep breaths before heading to surgery.

The procedure goes well, you repair the broken wrist and fix the damage as best you can. Of course, time will finish healing it, but you do your best.

Afterwards you scrub out, finish paperwork, and go home. You won’t need to check in until anesthesia wears off, and that can take a while. You return later in the day, dressed in business casual and your lab coat.

“Mr. Russell, how are you feeling?” you ask, needing to check on your work. You close the door behind you when you enter the room.

“You are so pretty,” George says, still a little out of it.

“Thank you. Mind if I check your arm?” you ignore your blush.

“You look like my wife. She’s a doctor too, soooo pretty,” George babbles.

“I know, love, let me see your arm,” you say gently, sitting beside him.

“What happened?” George asks with a confused look.

“You spun out and crashed into a barrier. It was raining, you were on slicks, and caught a wet line,” you explain, carefully examining the surgical site, removing the splint immobilizing the wrist.

“I know that much. Injuries?” he asks, eyes trained on your wound examination.

“Broken wrist. We are going to brace it rather than cast it,” you check his chart for other injuries noted.

“Thank you for taking such good care of me, I love you,” George says, moving his non-injured hand to grab yours.

“I love you too, Georgie,” you whisper, rubbing your thumb over his hand as he processes everything. You note things in his chart, making sure your observations and updates are written down.

“I’m glad you did my surgery, I wouldn’t trust anyone else,” he smiles, you can’t help but smile back. It’s not illegal, but it certainly is borderline unethical to treat your husband.

“I’m happy to hear that. Why don’t I go and see if your family is out in the waiting room?”you hum, needing to stay inconspicuous. Of course, those close to you know who your husband is, but since you don’t share his last name it isn’t obvious.

“One kiss before you leave,” George pouts and you hesitate. “Please, I was just in a crash and your kisses make me feel better,” he pouts. You playfully roll your eyes and lean in, giving him a quick kiss.

“I love you, I’ll be right back,” you reassure him. You find his family and Toto waiting outside in the waiting room.

“Family of Mr. Russell,” you say, calling them to you.

“Y/n, dear, did you do his surgery?” George’s mom asks, a little hopeful.

“I did, I was the only one here and on call. Thankfully nothing too major, he can probably get back into a car in a month if we rehab him correctly. Want to see him?” you ask, knowing the answer. You lead them to his room, but stop Toto before he walks in.

“Y/n-“ Toto starts but you don’t hesitate to cut him off.

“You got very lucky that the broken wrist was the worst of it. Keeping him out on slicks? Are you stupid, a win is not worth more than a life,” you fume.

“I know, I gave his engineers and strategists a talking to. I just wanted to check in on him, but knowing he is in your care is all I needed. I check in tomorrow then,” Toto stays calm, knowing you had to since George was brought in and you needed to yell at someone.

“I, um, thank you. He should only be here another day for observation. I’ll keep you updated,” you recompose yourself and watch as Toto leaves.

“She’s just the best doctor ever. So pretty too, and smart, and really good at surgery,” you overhear George tell his parents, he likely just got another dose of pain meds.

“Thank you, Georgie. You are a pretty good patient,” you smile from the doorway.

“Can you believe that doctor loves me? And she married me?” George asks his mom who laughs.

“You chose a wonderful wife. Why don’t you let her get back to work?” his mom asks, catching your amused gaze.

“Yes, I have another surgery scheduled. I will check on you in a few hours,” you walk over to your husband, giving him a quick kiss.

“I love you so much, I want to have babies with you,” George blurts, causing your face to flame bright red.

“Okay, let’s talk about that later,” you awkwardly say, stepping out of the room.

You are quick to return after your scheduled surgery. You know the nurses rotations and know that they won’t check in for another hour.

“There’s my beautiful wife,” George grins as you walk in. “You look so sexy post-surgery,” he eyes you up.

“Really? I don’t feel like it,” you slide onto the bed beside him, careful to avoid hurting him. You relax in silence for a minute before you address the feeling eating at the pit of your stomach. “Please try not to crash again. I know it’s unavoidable, but the feeling I got when I saw your name and didn’t know how serious the crash was. It… I don’t think I can describe the panic,” you take a deep breath, closing your eyes and focusing on the sound of his heartbeat under you. The cool hospital air is a stark contrast to his warmth.

“I’m sorry, it’s the one part of racing I hate too,” George is unsure how to respond. He looks at the blank hospital wall, as if it’ll give him the answer. “I’ll always come home to you, and I have a badass surgeon to take care of me,” he laughs a little, trying to lighten the mood.

“I can only do so much, like brain surgery? You are on your own,” you grin, happy to let the vibe change.

“You could do it, you can do anything,” George says, he always gets gushy when he’s tired.

“Okay, baby, you should get some sleep. I’ll go home and get you clothes. I will be back tomorrow morning to check on you,” you yawn, also needing sleep. George knows you can’t stay in the room too long, and he wouldn’t want you to stay up in an uncomfortable chair.

“I love you. Drive safe,” he mumbles, tiredness washing over him in waves. You fix his sheets and make sure he is okay before kissing him goodnight and leaving. It feels weird, to go home and not have him there. You burn the rest of your anxious energy by reaching out to some good physical therapists that you know to help with George’s recovery.

Under your watchful eye, he makes a recovery similar to Lance’s, even with you fussing the first few races post-injury. You framed one of his x-rays. George had to listen to you talk about how beautiful it was, you claimed it to be your best work. It allows for a good story when having friends over, and it reminds George to not let it happen again.

[endless-ineffabilities]

Maroon (part six)

modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

themes/warnings: angst, depiction of trauma/injury, mutual pining, language, avoidant Aemond

word count: 3.9k

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The Dragonstone ball came and went. Aemond and the reader are no closer to reconciling. Aemond's personal battles threaten to get the best of him, and there is only one person he thinks of turning to.

Aemond had begun to severely dislike his weekends. 

His stomach churns as he lies motionless under the sterile white hospital lights, feeling more like a lab experiment than a person. The surgeon, a man who face Aemond could now recognise in his nightmares, hovers over him again, poking and prodding as if inspecting a faulty machine.

After four months, the process was routine, almost mechanical. Aemond hated every second of it. 

No matter how many times they examined his injuries, one thing remained glaringly clear – he would never be as he once was. The cold, clinical truth he had been avoiding finally settled like a dead weight on his chest. He would never regain sight in his left eye. Ever.

Aemond’s stitches had been removed earlier than expected, the result of the extensive, borderline-experimental treatments his mother had ensured that he underwent. Her desperation to fix him bordered on obsession – nothing but the best surgeons, the most cutting-edge procedures, were made available to her son. ‘Nothing but the best for the Prince of the City’, they would say. And Aemond knew it wasn’t really for his sake. He had to be perfect. He had to be fixed.

A Targaryen heir couldn’t walk around looking all deformed, not in this family, not in this city. Yet no amount of money or prestige could make him whole again. The best the world had to offer still wasn’t enough.

He clenches his jaw, his body completely tense under the surgeon’s touch. The treatment felt less like healing and more like a futile attempt to erase the ugly truth. He felt wronged, betrayed even. He was so used to being in control, or at least, having some semblance of it. It was the only way he could bury the darkness within – the bitterness, the anger. But he has no control left. Now he is the one who bends to everyone’s will.

His mother demanded justice for him. She wanted Luke relieved of his seat at Dragonstone, and inheritance of Driftmark. At the very least, she argued, the boy should be demoted for a time or sent away to learn the error of his ways. Viserys would have none of it. According to him, both Aemond and Lucerys were equally at fault. Just boys being boys. Yet, nine times out of ten in the weeks following the accident, Viserys frequented Lucerys’ hospital suite accompanied by his precious firstborn Rhaenyra. 

Aemond barely saw him. He normally wouldn’t care; he trained himself not to. But nothing was right. He didn’t deserve any of this. Luke would limp for months, and that’s it, but Aemond lost his fucking eye. He felt that childish angst resurging inside him, and he knew he was no longer in control.

He recalls the Dragonstone Ball, the night from a week prior when he’d finally emerged after months of hiding, his public reappearance carefully orchestrated to show that Aemond Targaryen was still here, still powerful, still beautiful. He tried to convince himself that he had come to terms with everything – a plain-faced lie. The crowd, the so-called elite of society, had clamoured at the sight of him. They had been shocked, though not in the way he’d expected. They hadn’t recoiled at his injuries. Some had barely seemed to notice. 

It wasn’t as bad as they thought.

That had been the general statement. Whispers circulating the Valyrian hall, their astonishment turning to confusion. Why had he stayed away for months? Why all the secrecy? He looks fine, he heard them murmur, their eyes barely lingering on the faint scar on the side of his face. 

Some even saw his appearance in a twisted light, and deemed it as an enhancement to his aura. But they didn’t care about him, not really. They saw a carefully curated image, a version of Aemond that fit neatly into the narrative of a rebellious, aristocratic heir who felt the need to challenge his younger nephew into a game of chicken, only to pay for it dearly. Some had even dared to call him The Dark Prince of the City, a new title he loathed. 

What a relief it must be for everyone that he was only a little bit fucked up. How fucking fantastic. To them, his injury was cosmetic, an insignificant blemish on a life still dripping with wealth, status, and power. It doesn’t matter that there is an aching emptiness inside of him, a sense of loss and injustice that stretches far beyond the physical damage. It doesn’t matter that he can barely look at himself in the mirror. It doesn’t matter that he can’t allow himself to be with you.

But it does. It all does. 

He closes his eye, his mind drifting back to the night of the ball, when he last held you in his arms. When he last tasted you. Oh sweet seven hells, the way you melted unto him. The way you felt… 

I can wait, you promised. But how is that fair? Is there even anything left of him for you to keep waiting for?

“It’s almost time for us to have an ocular prosthesis put in,” the surgeon says casually, as if making small talk about the fucking weather. “Your mother has already vetted some top-of-the-line models, I’m sure you’d be pleased – ”

Oh, will he? The best prosthetic eye, was it? Gods, this must be what winning the lottery must be like.

“ – or she also mentioned that we could go about the traditional route? Apparently, it had been custom to have gemstones installed in place of – ” 

"I don't care," Aemond snaps, cutting the surgeon off mid-sentence. Without waiting for a response, he pushes himself up from the reclined seat. He knows the surgeon’s sudden shift to small talk signals the end of the session. It always does.

"We're finished?" he says, not bothering to hide the bite in his tone. "Good. Cheers, doc."

“Wait, Aemond, remember to regularly apply the ointment – ” 

“Yes, yes, I know,” Aemond says rushedly, barely glancing at the surgeon as he walks to the door. “Oh, and that’s Sir Aemond to you. We’re not friends.”

In the week following the ball, you find yourself slipping back into the familiarity of your routine. Hours spent poring over your dissertation with your supervisor, extra shifts at the bookstore, and meetups with Jace that often blurred into late-night conversations over coffee. You threw yourself into distractions, eager to escape the lingering effects of that eventful night, but the high was hard to shake off.

For a night, you felt like you were floating on clouds. Everything had aligned so perfectly – Jace had been the ideal partner, Baela’s custom gown made you feel like royalty, and the ball itself was something from another world entirely. Things couldn’t have gone better. 

You could have gone with Aemond. But that doesn’t matter now. 

He made his choice – one that had been crystal clear until it wasn’t. Until he’d pulled you out of the ball, and kissed you with such fierce intensity that your legs nearly gave out beneath you. 

He avoided you, but also stalked you. Dropped you as his partner to the ball, but sought you out during it with an emotion in his eyes you couldn’t fully decipher. 

Is that emotion the very same that you feel? Perhaps it was only momentary, and the next time you see him, his gaze will display cold indifference. Aemond is fire, and then he’s ice, keeping you in a state of uncertainty. What you have with him is suspended in limbo – you told him you would wait, and you plan to make good on your word. 

It’s because of him that you refused Cregan when he texted you – your number practically offered up to him on a  silver platter by Jace – and asked if you wanted to ‘have dinner some time’. You said you were having a particularly busy week, so maybe a rain check? You weren’t exactly lying. You did keep very busy – intentionally or not, it doesn’t matter. But as you sit on your worn-out couch, research papers strewn on the coffee table after hours of struggling to break ground on your dissertation, the idea of having dinner with the handsome Stark seemed all the more tempting.

That when you hear it – a faint knock at your door. 

Living alone has never given you much anxiety before, and you didn’t think it would start tonight. But who could be knocking at your door past midnight, when you hadn’t buzzed anyone in? You were never on close terms with your neighbours, either. 

You sit on your couch looking like a deer in headlights, staring at the door like it’s supposed to silence the knocking.

When did you get so wary? It could be Jace. Maybe Helaena. But then again, they’re not the type to show up unannounced. And besides, if it were them, you’d have already – 

Aemond’s voice calls out your name, partially calming your racing mind. 

You sense hesitance in his tone. Almost embarrassed. Like he knows he shouldn’t be here. 

“Aemond?” You find your voice, and move quickly to the door. As you open it, the question is on the tip of your tongue – What the hell are you doing here? – but the words stick in your throat.

“Hi, darling,” he says weakly, exhaustion etched in his voice. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

Something resembling a gasp escapes your lips when he turns his head slightly, revealing the fresh bruise blossoming beneath his right eye, a vicious mix of maroon and violet. The skin is split, blood dried along the cut, though his eye itself looks unharmed. 

“Aemond, what – ”

“Can I come in?” he interrupts, his voice barely a whisper. “Please.”

He walks past you as you step aside, his eye trained on you the whole time. A newly-arrived guest in your home and he has already claimed the space, his presence intoxicating. The air feels heavier, as if your modest apartment has shifted to accommodate someone like him. Or maybe it was just the effect he has on you, what do you know?

You gesture for him to take a seat, anywhere he’d like, and he waits until you settle right next to him before he visibly relaxes. The tension in his body eases, and his shoulders drop as he glances down. It becomes apparent to him how battered he must look. 

He starts to say, “I’m sorry for coming over unannounced – ”

“What the fuck happened, Aemond?” you cut him off, your sharp tone making him flinch. He swallows nervously, eyes darting away before he responds. 

“I got into… an altercation. Nothing to worry about, really – ”

His nonchalance is grating to you, frustrating you to no end. How can he say that, when the skin below his good eye is an angry colour it should never be in? “Nothing to worry about? Look at you! Gods, why am I just sitting here… I have to get the first-aid kit – ”

You start to stand, but his hand shoots out, grabbing yours with surprising gentleness. “It’s fine. Just... sit with me?”

He’s not being fair, using that tone with you. His question reminds you of the first time Helaena brought you to their penthouse. She needed to pick something up from downstairs, when Aemond had wandered into the living room, a book tucked under his arm. “This is my brother Aemond!” she exclaimed at the sight of him. “Aemond, this is my new official best friend. Don’t scare her off! I’ll only be a minute.”

You’d stood awkwardly, watching Helaena leave, and when you finally turned back to Aemond, he was already lounging in a plush chair, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

“You know you can sit with me, if you’d like,” he had called out. “Promise I don’t bite.”

He had kept that promise – literally, at least. His bite stung far more – he drew you in, made you fall for him, and just when you thought things seemed too good to be true, he ices you out and avoids you for months. 

But sure, Aemond didn’t bite. 

You ignore his plea, pulling your hand from his. The expression on his face morphs into disappointment, but you force yourself not to dwell on it. If he’s offended, it can most certainly wait until his injury is dealt with. 

“I’m getting the first aid kit,” you say firmly, before disappearing into the bathroom. When you return, he is leaning forward, head held in both hands like he’s burdened by a migraine.

A fresh surge of panic rises in your chest. You sit next to him, clutching the small first-aid kit, suddenly feeling like it’s far from enough. “Aemond, you should probably go to a hospital. You might have a concussion or something – ”

“I don’t,” he says flatly.

“How can you be sure?” You reach for his face, gently turning it toward you. Pulling out a disinfectant wipe, you start dabbing at the bruise. He tries to hold still, but every wince betrays the pain he’s trying so hard to hide. 

“Got hit in the face, not in the head,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Okay, smartass.” you reply, still unconvinced. Your nose scrunches at his tone, and his lips tug at the sight. He’s grateful that at least his lip wasn’t split – he knows you’d make things far more difficult for him if he had to resist the urge to kiss you. Especially with the way your reactions are always so damn adorable.

You apprehensively apply antiseptic to a cotton pad, dabbing it over his bruise. “I don’t know if this is enough, Aemond, we really should call someone… Helaena – ”

“It’s fine, darling. I’ve been through much worse,” he says coldly, and your face falls at his insinuation. You’re afraid to know just how much worse – what he went through, what he still could be going through. He reaches for your knee, and squeezes gently as a gesture of reassurance. “I’m sorry. But trust me, I’ll be fine.”

You shoot him a look of disbelief. He’s comforting you? It almost feels absurd – he’s the one who looks like he ran face first into a pole, yet here he is, acting like it’s no big deal. 

“Tell me what happened,” you demand, putting the contents of the first aid kit back with an audible snap of plastic.

Aemond hesitates, jaw clenching as he tries to find the right words. You can already tell that he’s going to try to downplay it. He says, “I, uhhh, got into a fight, I suppose.”

“What, you just felt like it?” you say bitterly. Ever since you’ve known him, Aemond has always been the most composed out of all his siblings. But it seems as if another Aemond came out the night of the accident. If you don’t look close enough, you would think he has changed completely. But you do, and you know that your Aemond is still in there somewhere.

He doesn’t answer right away. If he were to say he never feels like breaking things, like letting it all spiral out of control, he’d be lying through his teeth. “You should see the other guy,” he replies, leaning back with a cocky smirk that you just want to wipe right off his lips.

With your own.

“It’s not funny,” you mutter, lightly slapping his arm, and he puts on an exaggerated grimace.

“Don’t hit me. I’m already injured,” he playfully scolds. 

You sigh deeply. The boy isn’t making any of this easy. “Who did this to you? Who… who did you – ” Your face contorts into obvious worry, and he exhales sharply, his eyes flickering with distaste.

“Not Lucerys,” he sneers. “You don’t need to worry about your little friend. One of Alys’ degenerate friends at the club. Must have been a Greyjoy. He certainly smelled like one.”

The callousness of his tone, the way he spits the words without a second thought, feels wrong. You’ve heard Aemond make cutting remarks before, but they were always sharp, witty, delivered with a certain sensitivity. Now, it’s like he doesn’t care who he hurts.

“You got into a fight because… you wanted to defend Alys, is that it?” 

“No, gods.” He immediately shakes his head at the notion. “She had nothing to do with it. She left early… she wasn’t even there by that point.”

“Then what?”

The truth of it was, he heard the news of Lucerys’ early induction into the board at Driftmark, like some hero’s welcome. Lucerys, the Velaryon heir, rewarded for his resilience, for living through what nearly destroyed Aemond. His grandfather Corlys, being the CEO, had always doted on him – the raven-haired grandson who didn’t bear the slightest resemblance to him nor to his late son Laenor. 

Lucerys was treated like the golden child. And Aemond… Aemond was left to lick his own wounds in the shadows. 

So Aemond heard the news, and went on a bender. It was nothing if not immature. He knows it. But he hates that he can’t just let it go, that he can’t turn the other cheek like he’s supposed to.

“They said some idiotic things,” he mutters finally, his tone hollow, “and things got unruly. Next thing you know – ” He clicks his tongue, shrugging as if it’s no big deal.

“You just threw yourself into a fight? For what? To feel something?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, darling,” he says, his voice flat. Your frustration reaches its peak, and you wordlessly walk to the kitchen to retrieve several ice cubes, wrapping them in a clean hand towel to create a makeshift cold compress.

When you hand it to him, he just looks at you with brows raised. “Press it against your face,” you explain, your voice clipped but calm.

He looks amused, and he hovers the compress over his bruise for a mere second, before dropping it on the couch beside him, shaking his head. “I’ll pass,” he says, his tone dismissive.

“Just do it, Aemond.”

“It’ll cover my fucking eye,” he mutters, his voice breaking. “and I want to be able to see you. I want to… look at you.” He shifts uncomfortably, gesturing vaguely to his eyepatch. “As you can tell, this one is permanently out of commission.”

His vulnerability chips away at your frustration. “Aemond… ” you whisper his name softly, as his gaze burns through you. “You don’t have to act like this doesn’t bother you. You can be hurt, you can be angry. You can feel whatever it is you’re feeling. Just don’t shut me out.”

His jaw clenches, but his gaze doesn’t leave yours. “I’m not shutting you out.”

“Right. Sure,” you reply, unable to help the sarcasm. “Then stop brushing me off when I try to help you.”

He exhales sharply, his shoulders stiffening. “I don’t need you to fix me.”

“I’m not trying to fix you, Aemond,” you snap, but your voice cracks under the strain. “I’m trying to be here for you. There’s a difference. Why can’t you see that?”

“Because it’s not that simple!” His voice rises, sharp and biting, his frustration finally matching yours. “You can’t just magically undo what I’m going through. Who I am –”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do,” you shoot back. “I know I can’t make everything better, but I’m here and – ”

“You shouldn't have to stay,” he mutters, quieter this time. “It would be easier for you if you let me go.”

“You don’t get to decide what’s easier for me, Aemond,” you say, voice trembling with emotion. The silence stretches between you, and for a moment, you think he might actually let you in. 

But then he stands abruptly. “I shouldn’t have come,” he mutters, pacing the room. “This was a mistake.”

“Then why did you, Aemond?” you ask, standing too, your heart pounding in your chest. This was not how you expected your cluttered little night-in to go.

“Because… because of you!”

“Me? I have done nothing but try to help you, even when you push me away… I wait for you, and I keep waiting and – ”

“Why?” He leans over you, tilting his head. “Why wait? I can’t deal with what you seem to expect of me. I can see it in your eyes. How can you look at me like that?”

“Enlighten me,” you challenge, stepping closer. “Like what?”

“Like… I’m better than I am.” Like I’m good. “I’m not. I would ruin you.”

“And yet, here you are,” you insist. “You came here. You sought me out.”

He looks away, jaw clenching again. “I shouldn’t have. Alys would have taken me in, tucked me into bed without all this questioning. Not… whatever this is.”

Your throat clenches at his words, and you have to swallow back the pathetic sob that nearly rises out of you. “Is that what you want? Did you come here for a pat on the back and quick roll in the hay? Is that how you see me?”

“That’s not what I meant.” His eyes snap back to yours, full of anger and regret.

“I’m not going to ignore what’s happening with you, Aemond. I can’t. I care about you. You’re a lot better than you think you are. You’re good and kind and fair. But you’re just – ”

“Broken?” he interrupts, his tone biting, as though the word itself is a weapon.

“Aemond – ”

“Am I just a fixer-upper to you then, darling? A project for your brilliant mind?”

“That’s not true. You know it isn’t. You’re lashing out on me, and I just want to help you!”

“I don’t want your help.” His words are clipped, final, made clear over and over. But you don’t back down.

“Then what – ”

“I just want you,” he confesses, the words tumbling out of him like something precious. You stay silent, trying to process his words.

He continues, his voice growing more pained. “That’s just me. I’m fucked in the head for wanting impossible things. I want you to stop looking at me like I’m still the Aemond you used to know. Maybe that Aemond was never even real. I want you to stop wanting to fix me. And I… I just want you to love me.” 

You say nothing for a while, your chest rising and falling, betraying your erratic breathing. He says in finality, “Like I said – impossible.”

“It’s not impossible,” you find your voice, your eyes never leaving his. 

“What?”

“It’s real, Aemond. And quite frankly, it’s driving me insane,” you admit, feeling braver than you ever have before.

“Darling – ”

“You want me to love you?” you ask, your voice steady despite the chaos of the evening. “Well, you have it.”

He shakes his head slightly, like he’s trying to shake off your words. “You don’t actually mean that – ”

“I love you, idiot.”

“You love me,” he echoes, the words tentative, like he doesn’t quite believe it. He looks at you, like he’s seeing you for the first time. “I don’t think I’ve ever understood you,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

“Just what every girl wants to hear,” you tease, a small, weary smile breaking through the tension.

But Aemond isn’t smiling. He’s still staring at you, his hand twitching like he wants to reach out but doesn’t quite know how. “You love me?”

“Aemond.” You can only nod, growing unsure of yourself. Is this him realising that he doesn’t actually mirror your sentiment? Fire and ice – he wants your love, but can’t love you back.

In the heaviest of silences, you do what you’ve expertly done thus far. 

You wait. 

Series taglist (comment below to be added): @caught-in-the-afterglow @aemondtargaryensrider @punggo66 @dollfaceyourfear @candypurplebutterfly @moonmaiden1996 @mxrgodsstuff @lolitaisreal @blue-serendipity @melsunshine @thejanecampaign @fxngsfxgxrty @padfooteyes @msmarvel-19 @tempo-rary-fix @lauraneedstochill @julczimozart @sarcasticfangirl @witchyv @pyjama-shorts @bellaisasleep @zillahvathek @thincrusttheworks @krispold @yougotthatlove @raging-panda @fleetingly-artistic @throughgoeshamilton @polireader @katsav17 @minttea07 @kravitzwhore @meggiemay82 @hedonefox @daenysx @schniiipsel @namoreno @afro-hispwriter @aemondswifeisme @emcharra @malfoytargaryen @iiamthehybrid @fullmetalriotts @kellzlib @justsumtuffstuff @daydreamy-me @yentroucnagol @kezibear @queenofshinigamis @paprikaquinn (continued in comments...)

Some notes in the margins...

Maroon is back! Grateful to all of you lovely readers who waited 🖤

The suspense at the end! Gah!!! If I'm honest, I hit a wall right there. Does the night culminate in heated passion? Is it the right time? Would it be good for either of them?

I'm sure you'll know my decision from the first passage of part seven 😆

As always, I am eager to hear from yous!

[lavandulawrites]

Can you give us some Yandere Dottore please ☺️

Hurry Before The Dinner Gets Cold

Yandere Dottore x reader

Dinner with Dottore is never pleasant.

Masterlist

Word count: 794

The silver wear clinked against the porcelain plates. The room were dimly lit, making it a almost cozy atmosphere. A butler and a maid were standing against the east wall, almost like they were apart of the decoration. The wind howled outside.

In front of you sat Dottore. His gaze fixed on the beef on his plate. Blood was oozing from the rare steak as he cut into it with precision. Like a surgeon.

His eyes met yours. “Are you not going to touch your food dear?” his deep voice thick like honey. His expression one of concern. “I know that you do not trust me, but you need nutrition.”

Your mouth a tin line “I am not hungry”.

His stare unyielding. His eyes a replica of the dark blood in the many test tubes inside if lab. “Really?”

“Yes” you nodded trying your best to remain expressionless.

He hummed as his gaze bore through you. “Why do I find that hard to believe?” he tilted his head. He sighed and snapped his fingers. The butler hurried to him and bowed his head in an almost inhuman way. “Bring me the chef” he ordered. The butler nodded and hurried out. Not too long after the chef was standing beside Dottore.

“Is it perhaps that the food wasn’t to your liking?” Dottore raised a brow and nodded towards your untouched food.

You quickly caught onto his scheme and shook your head. “N-no! It’s not that at all!” you waved your hands and forced your lips into a tight smile.

The Harbinger’s eyes wandered over your features. “Are you sure darling? If your meal is not good enough, I will have to punish the chef. After all your happiness and comfort is the most important thing for me” his face twisted in concern.

Your eyes flickered to the chef who’s face was drenched in sweat. He was shaking. You gulped “I assure you the meal is not the issue”.

Dottore hummed. “Are you perhaps not feeling well?” his expression unreadable. “Everyone get out” he ordered. The servants and the chef all exited in a hurry leaving you alone with the blue haired man. “Let’s make a deal” he leaned forward and folds his hands hand rests his head on them. “You eat up all the food on your plate and I will spare the chef. Sounds good doesn’t it?” he said with a unsettling grin.

You looked down in your plate. With a shivering hand you lifted the fork to your lips. You closed your eyes to calm your nerves. A hum could be heard from opposite of the table “You better hurry for the dinner gets cold”.

You held your breath and shoved the fork into your mouth. The meat was tender and cooked after your preference.

“See? That wasn’t so hard was it now?”. You opens your eyes and were met with a sharp teethed smile. “You were afraid I drugged the food.”

You swallowed. “I have my rights to be suspicious”

“Of course my love” his voice melodic. “You were indeed right with your suspicion.”

You dropped your fork. You entire frame shaking. “What…?”

“Oh come now. It’s not dangerous. It’s just a way to get you a little more relaxed. I am starting to get sick of your small riots, so I came up with a solution. This drug will make your mind slowly but surely more submissive. I really do love you you know, but u can’t have you keep hurting yourself” he smirked. “Though it seems that I have to find a new way…” he sighed. “But worry not… I will have your memory of this dinner wiped. Just like last time…” his red eyes gleaming with something sinister.

Your eyes widened. The hair on the back of your neck raising. “Last time?” your voice shaky.

Dottore smiled “Yes darling. Wiping someone’s memory so mere child play for a man of my calibre”. He chuckled and rose to his feet. The chair scraping against the carpet. Like a animal he stalked towards you. He stopped behind your chair and leaned down. Much to your dismay you had to admit the doctor smelled good. Really good. His smell always bringing you a sense of comfort.

He leaned hand on the arm rest of your chair. His lips mere centimetres away from your ear. “Relax darling. This is for your own good you know?” his lips kissing your neck. He pulled away and placed a device against your right temple. When did he get that? The device glowed blue and it hummed slightly.

“Rest now…”

Darkness swallowed your senses and you fell into a deep slumber.

Dottore stroked your hair with a living expression. “A pity… I have to start over it seems.”

[celestie0]

MASSIVE gojo x reader fanfic rec (no spoilers)

ok i know a lot of my followers are gojo girlies and i just need to put yall onto this fucking fanfiction because i just read the latest release for it and i’m genuinely tweaking rn🧍🏻‍♀️

@lostfracturess ‘s amazing work called “symptoms & causes” - a medical au

[image pulled from her masterlist]

let me just…let me just try to even gather the reasons why you need to add this to your tbr lists (weekend is comin up too so perfect time)

characterization of gojo satoru.

gojo in this fic is characterized so fucking well, from chapter one. there are so many distinctive ways miss lostfractures goes about building his aura (word of mouth/reputation, dialogue, expository, primary interactions, secondary interactions, etc.) it reminds me of the show where gojo just has this energy to him that you can't tear yourself away from i picture him in this fic to be unrelenting, unforgiving, morally grey, with an undertone of softness yet still feral through it all,, basically gojo during shibuya arc LOL. i looove reading cute silly boy gojo fics sm (he’s so baby) but THIS fic explores the borderline wicked side of him that is so thrilling, unique, and rare to find i think in this fandom’s collection of works. it’s just so fucking good.

forbidden romance.

UGGHH i love stories w forbidden romance. in this one, it’s med student reader x professor gojo (additional power dynamics in that he’s a senior surgeon in her field and also a research mentor in her study of interest…TRIPLE THREAT DAMN). i love how miss lostfractures doesn’t shy away from reminding the reader that it’s wrong, and that they shouldn’t be doing this. that’s my fave part of forbidden romances like yesss remind me again why this is all so wrong but let’s still do it anyways LOL <333

reader’s voice.

i’ve LOVED reader since the beginning, so relatable, emotionally mature, all her flaws are so believable & her strengths are shown seamlessly. it’s just so much fun to read because i’ll literally have a thought like “hmm…that (something a character said/did) doesn’t sound very convincing” and then the next line will be something like “he didn’t sound very convincing” like!!! me and s&c reader?? we’re locked in like this fr🤞🏼 like gojo’s domain expansion fingers

escapism.

everything in this story feels so damn real it’s insane. the pacing is stunning, love the utilization of stacks of scenes that are sort of short but so concise, enough to be a smooth read but still descriptive enough to entirely transport you into the world that’s being built. cannot praise the writing in this story enough. also the variety of ways that scenarios are made that pull characters closer to one another?? so creative. as someone who works in a research lab, studied bio in college (some of the fkn biochem stuff that comes up in this fic gives me heart attacks lmfaooo pls im traumatized), and has worked in clinics/hospitals it just itches my brain so damn good. you’ll be convinced you’re a brilliant med student while you read this fic.

writing.

the writing is just. so. good. it’s so good. better than most PUBLISHED works i’ve read. i really can't say much other than that, you just have to go see for yourself.

—

if any of these reasons speak to you, i highly recommend you check the fic out. just a note tho it does have some dark themes but you can find all the tags/warnings on her page!

OK BYE

[dnvrsmedia]

Dr. Anderson Will See You Now

Dr!Abby Anderson x Wife!Research assistant!Reader

Summary: You meet your now wife, Dr. Abby Anderson, working at Seattle Hospital as a Lab Specialist. 8 years and a marriage later, your life could not have been more perfect. What happens when your wife is destined on carrying out a silly little prank war?

warnings: 18+ mentions/themes of smut, not proof read

word count: 2k

AN: this is my first post back on tumblr in forever. I don’t foresee myself necessarily posting fics here fully time, but post the occasional fic that i am extra proud of. I still am really only posting on AO3 (sevikasplanet).

hope you enjoy.

.

Heavy breaths slow as you come down from your high. Your mind on cloud nine, you almost miss the whispers of reassurance coming from your blonde haired lover beside you. Abby pulls you in to lay directly on top of her. Your nose nuzzling into its designated spot in the crook of her neck. Soft kisses litter her skin as the both of you slow your breathing. You lift your head to look at the blue eyed girl with a toothy smile. No matter how many times the two of you have been intimate, a shy nature subcomes you. Abby chuckles at you with a light hearted roll of her eyes.

“We have been together for almost eight years, married for two of them. How are you still so shy?” Her big palm caresses your thigh as you try to return to your position you previously were in. Abby would not have any of that, the woman tilting your chin to face her with a loving look in her eye.

“I love you, baby.” Abby smiles. Your heart soars at the words left from her lips. That was something you could never get tired of.

“I love you too, Abs.” You plant a slow kiss to her lips, enjoying the feeling of her plush pillows contorting with yours.

Days like these were often very rare in the Anderson household. Abby is a very successful orthopedic surgeon, and you work full-time as a research specialist. The pair of you met while working at the same hospital you do now. Funnily enough, running into doctors was quite the rarity as you were on a completely different wing from your now wife. You had met the big goofy blonde in the cafeteria. It was your first week starting your new job at the hospital’s research facility. To say it was stressful becoming acquainted would be a complete understatement. Everything felt as if it were divinely fated against you (you do have the flair for dramatics and intense perfectionism). Even the stupid fucking self check out machine was laughing at your apparent stupidity.

Abby ran into you having a bit of…technical difficulties as you slammed your badge furiously across the scanner for the millionth time in the span of five minutes. It was pure luck that Abby just so happened to forget her lunch at her apartment today as she rushed to get ready for work. An incredulous chuckle left her mouth, not really sure if this was a bit or not. Tha confusion quickly went away when she heard your frustrated mutters of not so professional language leave your mouth.

“Stupid fuckin’ robot, n’ you’re ‘posed to take my job in the future? Dumb fuck!” Your pouty lips and furrowed brows were unlike anything Abby has ever seen. To this day, she swears this is when she started falling in love with you. Time fell frozen in her mind as she watched you, the most beautiful person she has ever seen.

“Um, I think I can help you with that, if you don’t mind?” Abby clears her throat, feeling the heat rise to her face as all of your attention turns to the buff woman before you.

Left opening your mouth like a fish out of water, your embarrassment flooded through your system– it left you hindered to speak as you nodded your head. All Abby can do is fondly smile at the person before her, what can she say, you have peaked her interest. Abby grazes her hand across yours as she reaches for your badge. Electricity flows through both of your veins at the small connection of your hands. If Abby wasn’t bright red before, she was now. She shook her head lightly as if she was telling herself to remain on task, and did just that. You practically facepalm yourself as you see the freckled face woman flip your badge to the correct side and swipe.

“Oh my god I just threw a tantrum over that.” You giggled at the situation you put yourself in.

“Here, why don’t I buy you your lunch? As a thank you for your hard work uh–” Your eyes trail to the name embroidered onto her white coat. “Dr. Anderson.” A wide smile beams from your mouth, unbeknownst to you, your forever was awaiting right in front of you.

Abby pulls away with a reminiscent smile on her face. Abby was never one to indulge in romantic relationships,at least not the long term kind, until she met you. For the majority of her adult years, Abby spent her time with her head down and her nose between her books. She would spend the little free time she had at the gym or with her close knit group of friends and family. Becoming a successful orthopedic surgeon at her age took hand work and dedication, and if her father taught her anything it would be just that. The Andersons were resilient and Abby was a direct product of that.

Never having known her mother, Abby grew up around doctors. Her second home was the hospital’s daycare. Although Jerry tried his best to be around Abby, there were times where the blonde was left to raise herself. Jerry was open minded and well informed, he lacked the experience of womanhood. Abby was never keen on stereotypical “girl” things. That did help him in raising her, though if Abby did turn out to love tutus and sparkles, he would be the first to participate. Abby appreciated having Jerry as her number one fan. You would think that he would pressure the girl into becoming a successful neurosurgeon, leading a life just as fruitful, but that was not the case. Jerry understood that doing what you loved was the greater purpose of life. Abby just so happened to have a fascination with fixing broken things– where that be bones broken or the relationships of friends. Yet, she never found time to get into relationships herself. Thus, when she found you, she knew she couldn’t let you go. From the moment she saw you halfway to breaking the self checkout scanner, she needed to find a way to fix her way into your life. Those eight years of fixing turned from putting together your pesky IKEA desk, to fixing the hinges on your squeaky door, to finally fixing the ring on your finger, cementing your future together.

The pair of you wouldn’t change the last eight years for the life of you. Those days came with love and laughter. Specifically, unbeknownst to many, Abby liked to play pranks. You, being someone who disliked surprises, somehow fell in love with a six foot two goofball. Her residents would think you were insane for associating Abby with the word goofball. She was nothing shy of a hardass when it came to work. Her pouty lips and furrowed eyebrows were a staple at the Seattle Hospital. She finds it hilarious that the interns are scared of her. Her fellow residents must comply with her reputation when they really know that she is the first one to call when times get hard.

“I have a gift for you coming in at the end of the week.”

The tall blonde smugly smirks as her rough fingers gently contrast her light touches on your naked body on top of hers. Her smile widens as your breath hitches, like you know where this is going.

“A gift? What do you have planned, Dr.Anderson?”

A groan emits from her throat, knowing what that title does to her when you use it. I mean, it is the reason why you two ended up rustling in bed on your day off.

Abby laughs while squeezing the fat of your thigh.

“Nothing you have to worry about. Lover. Just know that you’ll enjoy it just like you seemed to enjoy today.”

A nibble on your earlobe makes your shiver as the soreness between your thighs makes you remember the details of your rendezvous with your wife. Your face smooshes into the crevasse of her neck and shoulder in embarrassment. Abby smiles, ready for her prank to commence.

If you would have known that your wife would go out of her way to make your life unbearably distressing for the next week then you would have told her to take her gift and shove it up her ass. Every waking moment, Abby has decided to tease you. Relentlessly. Constant reminders throughout your day about your gift— that you should be expecting by Saturday— could have never possibly left your mind with how she never let you forget. Her lips trail all of your sweet spots in passing throughout your mornings. Strong hands roughly spread your asscheeks disgustingly well as she wetly explores the inside of your mouth in a storage closet near your lab. Whimpers leaving your lips as your wife teases your nipples while you prepare dinner. Tweaking them in her hands as she whispers dirty thoughts in your ear. Throwing you on the bed, licking, sucking, prodding, and prying at your plush thighs, groaning from below you. Calling you from your lab to an empty office, making you grind on her thigh, then rudely leaving you hot and bothered. Yet, whenever you begged for her to continue, she would find an excuse to not move on.

It’s not that you’d say your sex drive is unnecessarily high, but you have a sexy stallion of a wife, who could blame you? It got to the point where she was the only thing on your mind all day. You felt immense need thrumming through your bones at all possible hours of the day, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could take it. Luckily for you, Saturday was on the horizon. From the moment you woke up, you were by Abigail’s side clinging to her every movement.

Of course, your wife found this to be very endearing and hilarious. Any time you heard a shuffle outside of the front door, you pearled up like a dog. The worst part of the day was waiting anxiously for whatever “gift” your wife had for you. By the time you were growing annoyed, Abby picked you up and threw you over her shoulder—army style.

“Abigail!!! What the fuck are you doing?!” You squealed out between heavy laughs.

To say that you were complaining, ESPECIALLY with the view of her ass you’re getting would be a lie. A loud smack recoils from your hand slapping your wife’s sculpted butt cheek. A faux gasp leaves her lips.

“I’d be careful, baby, I’m the one carrying you.” Abby laughs at your wiggling ceasing. A smack lands on your backside, and although you can’t see her, you know that sexy and cocky smirk adorns her face. Especially after that loud whimper that leaves your lips. Abby flops you on the bed after she makes it up to your shared bedroom. Like a predator to its prey, she slowly stalks up to your lips, her body on top of yours. Her hair loose from her normal solo french braid, creating a halo of hair surrounding your face.

“Hi, beautiful.” Abby purrs as a hand of yours tucks her golden locks behind her ears, caressing her cheek in your palm. No matter the situation, Abby never fails to erupt butterflies in your stomach. Your face turns away from her loving and lustful eyes at the term of endearment.

“Uh uh, baby, look at me. C’mon, you’ve been so good this week. Wouldn’t wanna ruin your surprise now, would you?” Abby coos.

Your eyes snap back to hers, snapping into that submissive state she’s had you in oh so many times. You shake your head and respond to her with a ‘no’.

“Good.” Abby says as she quickly plants a sweet kiss to your lips. You whine in protest at the quick peck, wanting more, yet all your lover does is pinch your cheek with a smirk.

“Patience, baby. I’m gonna go get your gift now, okay?” And with that, the blonde scurried into your en suite bathroom.

Now what you didn’t see would be the devilish smile attached to her face. Abby might be a gentle giant and a fierce lover, but that did not stop her from being wildly competitive. Her need for pranking you only came after a small prank you pulled on her the first year of dating. Thus, ultimately creating an 8 year long prank war between the two of you. Abby even going as far as pranking you on your wedding day.

-2 years ago-

It was a beautiful day to have a wedding, and you could not have been more sure that you were making the best decision of your life. Your intimate wedding occurred at the private beach and house that Jerry owned. The view was spectacular, and so was the day. Before the wedding took place, Abby and yourself decided that you would want to have a private “first look” with you, her, and her friend Leah—a professional photographer. You were practically bouncing off the walls with how excited you were to see the love of your life. You were so curious about what she would wear. So, when it was time to turn around, you were surprised to see your future wife in a blow up dinosaur suit. Your jaw dropped as Abby couldn’t contain her fits of laughter, her tiny dinosaur hands trying to hold you. After your initial shock, you joined in on the continuous laughter. The pictures of your reaction were priceless, and to this day, it is her phone lockscreen.

Silly things like this was what made you sure that you made the correct decision, even if what she is about to do will royally piss you off.

“Close your eyes!” Is yelled from the bathroom with a slight giggle to her tone. Your eyes roll before you cover your eyes with your hands, you know already that Abby hates when you peak.

“They’re closed! C’mon I'm getting bored, Abs.” You yell back.

You can hear the blonde shuffling from the bathroom, trying to hold back her laughs. This sound confirmed to you that your wife was up to something very, very stupid.

“Okay, open up.” Abby bites back a smile as she stands at the foot of the bed.

Your eyes open and your mouth immediately flys open in shock.

“Dr.Anderson will see you now.” She tries to stay composed, clearly failing at the sound of her quiet chuckles.

Abby had teased you relentlessly for a week, turning you on to levels unknown…for an ill fitting “sexy” doctors costume? She looked absolutely ridiculous in this outfit. The costume fit her like an adult trying to put a toddlers dress on. The low cut white dress with a slit on both sides hardly fit over her wide shoulders and built physique. The buttons pulled at a tension so great you were shocked that they didn’t burst. The zipper not even getting the chance to zip due to her ridiculously muscular stature. The fishnet stallings digging into her wide thighs, topping it off with a very very tiny thong. To say that you were not expecting this would say the least.

“Abigail. What. The. Actual. Fuck!” You throw your head back in a loud cackle. Your belly hurting from the intense laughter bubbling up inside. She takes a stride towards you, but stops just as fast as a loud ‘riiiiip’ noise is heard. Her eyes bulge out of her head as she turns around. Her ass and thong fully hanging out as the fishnets now have a large hole on them. A howl erupts from both of your lips at the ridiculousness of it all.

It takes moments for you both to calm down, and after many pictures taken, Abby takes off the costume and joins you back on the bed.

“Although you got me really good, I'm still kinda mad at you for teasing me like that.” You pout at your wife.

Abby trails her hand up to where you need it most, caressing your clothed core. Her lips trailing up to your ear.

“Oh, babe, I’ll be sure to make it up to you.”

[sm-baby]

is it ok to ship surgeon x jon?

I'm asking because on 1 hand, the surgeon is a clone of YOU,

on the other hand she is nothing like you and is straight up just a different character

and also because I read the comic and now I'm imagining a slow burn fic where the surgeon actually learns to love jon and they get a happy ending AND I KNOW IT WON'T EVER HAPPEN BUT I CAN DREAM-

1. Yes :3

2. The whole point is that they want to be their own people! And they are! If anything theyre more like sisters or my kids to me. Make them kiss.

3. OH TELL ME ALL ABOUT IT GIRL im glad that you recognize it could never happen BUT I SUPPORT YOU

edit: I WOKE UP TO LIKE THREE ASKS ABOUT THIS SCENERIO IN THE INBOX I LOVE YALL

You know this might be the most realistic way to ever redeem The Surgeon. Like. Sadly she doesn't feel anything for them so it wouldn't happen... But still, like...

You confront them and they BREAK DOWN IN FRONT OF YOU... What do you do after that??? I imagine Jon would be so filled with emotion and rage that he would be shaking demanding that she leaves. But god. GOODD

I love doomed hetero

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH

1. The Surgeon was a Biologist who worked at the lab she was made in so I imagine they have spoken before!

2. Mrs. Swanson HAS likely experience childhood neglect as Jon doesn't hear about her family and thinks the clones were her family(she was VERY lucky with that one)

I fw this, these are so in character

[loveandleases]

G's, M's and Isaac's most embarassing memory (for G with and without MC if possible?), most fond, most cherished?

Sure thing! Going to put it under a cut because it got quite long.

💙 G

Most Embarrassing: The first time G's parents came to visit them at Uni, a certain roommate was having sex in the room, and G's parents thought it was G x Chris.

Most Fond: Back in Uni, G, Cam, and MC would pull all-nighters at the cafe. Early on G was following in their parent's footsteps of going to medical school with the end goal of becoming a surgeon. They really struggled and one of their ways of coping was drawing in the margins of their books or even Cam and MC's. The pages would have a little dog or a cat, just dressed in a lab coat.

One late night, after a long cram session, G was exhausted and a bit vulnerable. Cam was listing off random get-rich-quick schemes so that he could drop out and just become a photographer. (Each idea worse than the previous one). MC glanced over at G, noticed one of their doodles, and said, "You'd probably treat patients better if they had fur."

It was such a simple, offhanded comment. But that night, something about it just resonated with G. The thought just lingered, and for the first time, they were considering what they might want. That one little sentence from MC became a catalyst, it planted a seed of doubt about their future - and it threw their plan on its head. Regardless of what happened between them, they can fondly reflect on that moment in time. Because that comment changed their life for the better.

Most Cherished: (Ex) Their first kiss with MC (which was also G's first kiss.) It was unexpected, yet everything they could have hoped for if they allowed themselves to dream big. (Ex/Friend) When G was in the process of figuring out if they wanted to be a Vet, they had gotten Cam to agree to come with them to volunteer at an animal shelter. They were tasked with bathing the animals. Which was fine....at first. About 6 animals in, G had noticed that Cam kept scratching, to the point that he thought he was having an allergic reaction. Nope, Cam just caught fleas. So, every Christmas. G gifts Cam flea shampoo. The tag always says “Just a little something for our favorite shelter stray.”

💛 M

Most Embarrassing: Before M was a writer, they used to work at the cafe. One day a person walked up to them and asked them out.

“Hey, would you maybe want to go out sometime?”

M, as oblivious as ever, misunderstood completely and thought they were being asked if the person wanted their order taken outside. Without missing a beat, M grabbed the person’s coffee, nodded enthusiastically, and said, “Sure, I can take that outside for you.””

The person was so confused as M casually walked to the door, set the order down on the sidewalk, and gave a little wave. “There you go, all set!”

In the person’s eyes, not only did they get turned down for a date, but M had essentially kicked them out while smiling.

Most Fond: M had struggled for years trying to get published. There would be days when they were supposed to be helping in the kitchen of the cafe, but instead, they were jotting down things for their book on stray pieces of paper. They read all the books you will find in the Cafe, leafing through them hoping that each bit of knowledge they gained would help them become a better writer.

It wasn't needed, but M was certain there was just something wrong with their work. Until one day, it just happened. Their manuscript was accepted. The first people they called were their mom's. It was one of the best moments in M's life thus far. Even though they were barely able to afford rent, and the only food in their fridge was a jar of marmalade.

Most Cherished: After their first book was published and it picked up traction, it became quite popular. M was struggling with writer's block, which they tend to do. So they visited the cafe and the first thing they saw on the counter, was a copy of their book. M had thought about giving up so many times, but to be in that place it was a full circle moment for them.

💜 Isaac

Most Embarrassing: Isaac and Ardent used to have a thing. One day the two of them are in the little elevator of Ardent's apartment building. Their hands are roaming one another's bodies, sliding underneath fabric, both of them caught up in the heat of the moment. Now imagine their surprise when the first face and voice they see is Ardent's mother when the elevator door opens.

Most Fond: When they became sober, truly sober. Kara really kept Isaac in check, and reminded him what he was doing it for. Who he was doing it for. It took a lot to get to that point, and Isaac doesn't believe they could have done it without Kara there to support them.

Most Cherished: Spoiler, but I can say it involves their mother.

[corynation]

Rumor has it

mark sloan x reader

tags: angst, thats about it tbh, im sorry in advanced

She, she ain't real / She ain't gon' be able to love you like I will

You’ve observed her closely, bouncy walk, the smile thats brighter than the sun when it rises. You’ve memorized the notes of her perfume, studied the way her hair is always perfectly done, never out of place. Noticed how perfect she is, in every way possible. Of course he’d fall for her. Hell you’d began to think you were falling for her too. She was young and beautiful, smart and outgoing, innocent and naive. Everything you weren’t.

Nothing had been the same between you and Mark since Lexie Grey had come to Seattle Grace. At first you loved Lexie, admired her. You had been on the same service as her on multiple occasions, and each time she outshined everyone around her. She was diligent and ambitious, the perfect example of what a surgeon should be.

She is a stranger / You and I have history / Or don't you remember

You and Mark had been dating for a few years now, ever since he first came to Seattle Grace. Your relationship had been near to perfect. There wasn’t a time where the romance between you two felt off, from Sunday night dinner dates where you’d cook together, to finishing late night lab work at the hospital together. He was everything you dreamed of in a man, and you only hoped he felt the same about you.

Lately there had been less late night lab work together. Instead you’d get a call from Mark, him apologizing for the workload and telling you not to wait up for him at home. Sunday night dinners still happened. In fact it was one of the few things you held onto to believe in the fact that Mark was still in love with you. That you were the one he wanted for the rest of his life. You were the girl he’d be doing Sunday night dinners with until his last Sunday on earth.

There was this look to Mark, one that you could never mistake for anything but complete adorn. It wasn’t the Mark Sloan look he was known for, the one where his smile would crook and his eyes would gleam with mischief. This one made a softer man of him. His eyes would soften, his mouth would part just a smidge as his lips curled into the perfect gentle smile. That was the look he gave to you every time he saw you walk into a room. You’d recognize it from anywhere. It became your favorite part about Mark because it was owned by you. You were the only one who got that look from Mark.

That is until the day Lexie was paged into you and Marks surgery. The second the doors burst open and a smiley Lexie appeared you saw the tense of Mark dissolve, his eyes soften and glow, and you just knew that under his mask your favorite gentle smile had appeared.

That day you had to step out of your surgery to puke.

She is half your age / But I'm guessing that's the reason that you stayed

“I don’t know Callie it’s just the way he looks at her. Every time I see him look at her I physically feel ill.”

“You don’t think he’s cheating on you with her do you?”

“No, not at all. I know he wouldn’t do that. But I know he doesn’t know how to stop his feelings either, and I just-“ You groaned as your palms met your forehead. “I can feel him slipping away from me you know? Like he’s there with me physically, but emotionally he’s with her. And I get it, she’s shiny and new and I’m just,”

“Y/n no,” Callie began, her fingers wrapping around your wrist in an attempt to grab your attention.

“I’m just dull to him.” You turned to look at your best friend, her face riddled of pity. It was near the same look she gave families when there was nothing more she could do for a patient. As much as you wished there was a way to somehow extract all feelings Mark had towards Lexie and inject them into someone like Alex, there would never be enough shooting stars or candles to grant that. “I can feel the love fall from him Callie. Like there is this string connecting us and someone is slowly sawing at it with a god damn scalpel.”

“Ironic you say scalpel because-“ Callie started before you shot her a look that shut her right up. “yep too soon sorry.”

“What do I do here Callie? How do I keep going to bed at night with him knowing he’s in love with someone else?” The familiar burn of tears began as you wiped your face not prepared to embrace a whole breakdown this early in the morning. As upset about the situation as you were, you were not going to start crying over it in the middle of the hospital that you work at, let alone the hospital both Mark and Lexie work at.

“You need to talk to him y/n. It’ll ease your mind I promise.”

“Oh says the one who stayed with her husband when she knew he cheated.”

Callie snorted at your remark, starting a break out of laughter between the two of you. It felt nice to laugh during all of this. Made you feel lighter.

“Y/L/N!”

I heard you've been missing me / You've been telling people things you shouldn't be

Your eyes met Dereks. He was practically running to the nurses station where you had been sat with Callie. The two of you shared a glance, hinting to Callie it was best if she went on with her day. She smiled knowingly, patting your shoulder as a farewell and went off past Derek. By his furrow of a brow as Callie passed him you knew she’d given him a warning look, you giggled to yourself. If there was one thing about Callie you appreciated the most, it was her protective nature towards those she loved.

“I need to talk to you.” Derek grabbed your arm, leading you to an on call room. Your quick moment of glee dissolving in an instant.

“What is this about Derek?”

“Mark.”

And suddenly you felt heavy again.

The sound of the door to the on call room closing ran through your ear. Drowning out any other noise. Your throat felt tight and your stomach empty. You definitely had to puke, or faint? Maybe both. Something. You had to do something to get out of this conversation.

“What’s going on between you two?” Derek questioned, his hands placed on his hips.

You were silent at first, your body still in fight or flight mode, though unfortunately for you that happened to also be shut down mode. Not much fighting or flighting.

“I’m sorry?” Was the only thing you’d managed to choke out without spilling your guts to the best friend of the man you’d been worrying about.

Derek sighed rubbing his forehead. “Mark thinks you’re cheating on him.”

“He thinks I am cheating on him.” You scoffed, in total disbelief at the stupidity of that man.

“I told him he was stupid for thinking that.”

“Damn right he is. What else did he say?” At first you were just angry, as you should be, but now you had just been curious. How could you possibly be the one cheating when you were the one trying to keep the relationship stable?

“I really don’t think this is a conversation for us, you should speak with Mark.”

“Derek tell me. Now.”

He bit his lip, trying to decide which choice would be the best. “Fine,” he began, his hand pointing towards you, “but you better talk with Mark after. You two can’t keep ignoring each-other and your issues.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever I will.”

“He said you’ve been distant with him. Short with words, not wanting to be around him. Apparently you’ve left his service before because you had long surgeries with him?”

“Oh I’ve been distant. Thats rich.” Despite your efforts to hold it in, you started giggling over the words that came from Derek. Laughing to the point of tears you made your way over to the door, stopping before opening it. “Thank you for telling me Derek. You might want to keep your phone on silent later, Mark is probably going to bug the hell out of you.” And with that you left to go find the reoccurring talk of the hour.

Like when we creep out and she ain't around / Haven't you heard the rumors / Bless your soul, you got your head in the clouds / You made a fool out of me / And, boy, you're bringing me down

“Mark!” You yelled, finally catching the man you had searched practically the whole hospital for. He stopped almost instantly, turning around and flashing you that look he used to.

“You’ve been ignoring me.” He smiled even saying that, his eyes were still soft and he grasped your shoulders with such care and love.

It almost made you mad how he greeted you. The whole action gave the same feeling it used to before you had ever even began to question his integrity.

“I know I’m sorry.” You smiled back at him, no matter what was going on in your mind you couldn’t help but embrace what love he had for you, what love you had for him. It was warm, familiar. Almost made you question yourself on if you had been going crazy this whole time. “Do you mind if we speak for a minute?”

“Yeah, I’ve got all the time for you.” There it was again. Mark being Mark. So charming and sweet, the man you fell in love with.

You led him to a nearby on call room, Mark instantly sitting against the desk as you shut the door.

“So, what is all this about?” The cheeky grin that spread across his face was almost enough to pull you into him. You knew what he thought, and to be quite honest the feelings you had bubbling in you weren’t beside that thought. But still there was a part of you that still knew you couldn’t give in. If anything happened between you and Mark in this moment you would never talk it out with him. Somehow this whole span of events with him today was almost enough to convince you he was only in love with you. And maybe he was, maybe you truly were just crazy and jealous of this poor girl. Though, the longing looks they’d exchange one another, and the hands that would stay by each other for unnecessarily long amounts of time told a different story.

“I just need to talk to you.” He pulled you into his arms the moment he was able to reach you, a small gasp escaping your lips at the suddenness.

“I think talking can wait a minute.” His words were whispered as he leaned into you, lips meeting yours. It was warm and comforting, your muscles relaxing at almost an instant. You were back into the harmony you knew so well, the one you’d been craving to feel for weeks now. Even if you had tried to pull away there was no chance you wouldn’t initiate a second kiss. The feeling that rushed through you was too addicting to want to back away. That was Marks Sloans specialty.

You both stayed like that for what felt like a life’s eternity in the best way imaginable. Really you wanted to stay like that forever. Safe and loved in his arms, the only one he was focused on.

Mark began to slowly back away, a soft smile stretching across his face. “That, was definitely worth waiting for.”

Simply nodding and smiling as a reply to him, you closed your eyes again, fully taking in the euphoria before the gates around your world would fall.

“Mark,” You began, taking a small step back from his embrace. If you wanted to get any of the conversation you had been planning in your head for days -figuring out every word you’d say, even practicing in the mirror a few times- out to him you were gonna have to ruin the moment. Rip off the bandaid.

“Y/n whats on your mind?” He was so sweet. So patient.

“You’re in love with her.” And there it was. Ripping off the bandaid. And god did the bandaid sting like nothing before. Watching his face fall felt like the world was slowly swallowing you, pulling you into the core. All oxygen leaving your body as you were pulled further, and further.

“Her?” His brows furrowed, eyes scanning your face for something, maybe a sign of who it was, maybe a sign that this was all a joke. To be honest you really couldn’t read his expression. It had been so blank yet so sorrowful, remorse and confusion settling together into one.

“Lexie.” And that was all you had to say before all confusion left him. It was as if you had flipped a light switch within him, Mark finally catching onto what was happening. “I’ve noticed Mark, I’ve noticed everything. You staying at the hospital late nights when she was on call, the lingering hands of you both. I’ve seen the way you look at her. It’s the same you used to look at me. You’ve favored her in surgeries, hell, you’ve favored her in meetings.”

“Y/n..”

“No Mark, listen to me. Maybe you haven’t realized this all yet, maybe you were oblivious to what was going on, but I wasn’t. God I wish I was Mark. I’ve spent so much of my life this past few weeks just thinking about you two, thinking about us. I haven’t stopped thinking about it all since I’ve first noticed you took an interest in her.” Hot tears started to trickle out your eyes, all emotions finally pouring. “I’ve torn myself to shreds over this. Thinking about what I could do to get you to notice me more, or even just less of her. Thinking of what I could do to get you to love me and only me again. Ive thought so low of myself these past weeks I could barely function as a surgeon. I’ve made myself a mess trying to fix yours.”

Mark studied you intently, trying his best to comprehend everything that was going on. He stood up coming back near you. His hands found your cheeks as he held you gentle as ever, cradling you like the most precious piece of gold known to man. “I’m in love with you y/n.”

“I know you are, I know Mark.” You sniffled, one of your hands matching his movement cradling his cheek. You tried to give him the best smile you could forcing every muscle in your face to follow suit, even if it was the last thing you wanted to show. “But you’re in love with her more.”

His face was one you’ve never seen before. Whether it was realization or just heartbreak, it tore you to shreds seeing him like that. But it tore you more to shreds being with him after everything, and you were down to your last bit of stability.

With a kiss to his cheek and a squeeze to the hand that was still on your cheek, you smiled at him once more, slowly backing away from him. “I love you Mark. I always will. But I can’t stand to see you love her too, and I don’t know if I’d ever forgive myself for staying with you any longer knowing you’re in love with someone else. You go get her, I’ll be okay. And you’ll be okay when she says yes to your first date. We’ll both be okay.” There was tears rolling down both of your cheeks. The room so thick of emotions it started to overwhelm you. Suffocate you further into heartache. You placed one last kiss to Marks lips, you both falling into it deeper than ever.

You slowly backed out of the kiss, wanting to let that be your last memory of you two. It was the rainbow after the storm, the calm after the chaos. With that as your farewell to the man you loved more than life itself, you walked out the room, closing the door behind you, feeling as if you had left your whole being in that room. Like a piece of your soul would forever be gone. Stuck inside that room with the piece of him that had broke.

Those two pieces though, would stay together. Pieced in harmony, placed in only the memories of you two. Something more than you could ever ask for.

Hiiiii :DDD im so sorry this is my comeback lol. Anyway i know this isnt the best, i have not written for a year, and this is also my first reader insert pov ive made so be nice pls🙏🏻

hope you enjoyed (or like arent super sad) <33

also my grammar SUCKS and grammer is so hard so do not even think about how many commas i used wrong okay? okay

[itsphoenix0724]

On Call (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: Your intern year in surgery is awful. Of course, sometimes it helps that you can find time with your attending in the On-Call room.

Warnings: Suggestive content, allusions to sex

Word Count: 674

A/N: A small blurb to get me back into writing inspired by my Grey's Anatomy binge.

A surgeon’s intern year is often seen as the most grueling, tiring, terrible experience they go through in their entire career. You’re run ragged by residents, barely eat, and of course, you barely sleep. 

Your back slams against the door to the on-call room, you’ve officially been up for 36 hours, and your neuro-attending is currently undoing the ties holding up your scrub pants. Azriel’s lips trail down your neck as you chuck his lab coat to the ground. His hands wander down to your ass and he lifts in one swift movement and you're in the air. His shirt comes off quicker than you can blink, and you’re moved to the bed. The cheap sheets scratch your back, but you sink into the mattress and your eyes flutter shut. You want nothing more than to work off the stress from work, but the bed is so inviting…

“Are you falling asleep?” Azriel lifts his head from where he’s been kissing his way down your stomach, hazel eyes fixing on you with an amused expression. “Am I not entertaining enough for you?” He brings his hands up to rub tickling circles into the skin of your stomach and you laugh despite yourself as your body attempts to shut down. 

“I’m sorry but I had rounds with Lady Death, then had to cover the ER, then I had to do my charts and skills lab, and I have been up for thirty-six hours.” You whine, dropping your head back down against the pillows, and you run a hand through the crown of Azriel’s inky black hair. He places a sympathetic kiss on your sternum. 

“I have a craniotomy later, would scrubbing in make you feel better?” The way he smiles at you feels like sunshine splitting the clouds and your brain turns to mush in your head. 

“You can’t just give me surgeries because you’re my boyfriend, the other interns will want to spike my head on the fence outside.” Azriel rolls his eyes and kisses his way back up your body. 

“I don’t give you surgeries because you're my girlfriend. I give you surgeries because you’re talented,” he presses a kiss to your lips “and smart” a kiss to your jaw “and beautiful.” you laugh again your hands finding purchase on Az’s shoulders, “You just also happen to be my girlfriend.” You haul your mouth back to his and Azriel lets out a groan into your mouth. “We can sleep if you’re too tired. My surgery doesn’t start for another two hours.” 

“That would be amazing,” Azriel rolls you onto your side, pulling you back into his chest. You let the warmth of his skin against yours soothe your aching muscles. Your eyes start to flutter closed, feeling protected and safe in the arms of your boyfriend. You’re just about to finally fall into darkness when your pager goes off again. Your eyes shoot back open, you could cry. “It’s Dr. Archeron, 911 in PEDS I got to go,” Azriel brushes a mournful hand through your hair as you retie your pants and pull your shirt back on. 

“Just 12 more hours, and then you can sleep like the dead,” Azriel mutters, rolling onto his back.  

“I’m not sure that’s the best joke to be making in a hospital,” You laugh as you press another kiss into his mouth. Azriel huffs a sleepy laugh and you’re about to climb back into bed when the pager goes off again. “Okay, I really got to go, if she points at me again I think I’ll set on fire.” You pull your hair back into a quick bun and send Az a smile before you dart out the door and break off in a run to the PEDS floor. 

A surgeon’s intern year is the worst year of their life, you get no sleep, work grueling hours, and want to curl in a ball and cry most of the time. But the hospital is our home, it’s where we belong, so maybe it's not all so bad. 

[elizabethsnuts]

Little Surgeon

Alex Karev x Daughter!Reader

Summary: Alex plays pretend surgery with you on his day off.

———

As Alex walked into the living room, he found you on the floor surrounded by your toys, wearing a tiny doctor's coat that he had gotten you for your birthday so you could match him.

"Daddy!" you exclaimed, your eyes lighting up as you saw him. "Look, I a surgeon just like you!"

Alex chuckled at the sight of you in the miniature lab coat. "Oh wow, I can see that!"

You nodded and put a shower cap on your head, pretending it was a scrub cap. “I boss surgeon and you be helper”

Alex nodded and chuckled as you put the shower cap on your head. “Alright, we can do that, you ready? Surgeons have to be very ready for surgery.”

You nodded eagerly, your head bobbing with excitement. "Yes, Daddy! I ready, I ready!"

Alex settled onto the floor next to you, joining you in your imaginary OR. "Okay, Dr. Karev, let's go over the basics. First, we need to scrub in."

You giggled and nodded, running over to the sink. "Daddy help! I need to wash!"

Alex laughed and got up to hold you up to the sink to wash your hands. "We wash our hands really well to make sure they're clean," Alex explained, turning on the tap.

You nodded and rubbed your tiny hands together as you washed them under the water. "Like this, Daddy?"

"Exactly like that," Alex said with a proud smile. "Now, let's put on our gloves."

You eagerly grabbed a pair of plastic gloves and struggled to pull them on, your small fingers fumbling with the material. "These gloves are too big!"

Alex chuckled and helped you adjust the gloves. "There you go, Dr. Karev. Now, let's get ready to operate."

You nodded and went over to your stuffed bear that was lying on the coffee table. “It okay Mr Bear! We gonna make you feel all better!” You said with a smile.

"Okay, Dr. Karev, let's start with a simple procedure," Alex said, handing you a plastic toy scalpel. "We need to perform surgery to remove Mr Bear's appendix."

You held your toy scalpel confidently as you began your pretend surgery. You mimicked your father's every move with precision.

"Okay, Dr. Karev, we need to make a small incision here," Alex instructed, pointing to a spot on the teddy bear patient.

You rolled your eyes playfully. "I know, Daddy. I know what I doing. I boss, you helper."

Alex raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Oh, you do, huh? Well, let's see what you've got."

With a mischievous grin, you made a swift incision, your movements surprisingly smooth for a toddler. "See, Daddy? I do it."

Alex couldn't help but laugh at his daughter's confidence. "You're a natural, Y/N. But remember, surgery is serious business."

You nodded solemnly, your expression turning serious. "I super duper serious!"

Alex matched your face, trying to suppress a chuckle. "That’s a good surgeon face you have on."

You nodded again seriously and suddenly shouted. “Bandaids! I need bandaids! Right now! Helper I need bandaids! Pink one! Pink one! Pink for emergency!”

Alex laughed and quickly handed you some pink bandaids. “Here! You have to save Mr Bear!”

You put on your concentration face and started to frantically put bandaids on the stuffed bear. You were very focused and determined to ‘save’ Mr Bear.

“He okay! I save him! He not bleeding no more.” You smiled triumphantly and wiped the imaginary sweat off your forehead.

“Well done, Dr Karev! I think you should become chief of surgery.” Alex said with a smirk. “Alright, now close him up.”

You nodded and pretended to stitch up the bear’s belly. “I closing don’t worry.”

You eventually finished your surgery and smiled. “I all done, he all better. I save the day!”

Alex smiled at you, he loved that you wanted to do what he does. “Perfect! I think that’s the best stitching I’ve seen in a long time.”

You giggled and gave Alex a big hug, resting your head on his shoulder. “Thanks for being my helper, Daddy! You very good.”

Alex kissed your forehead and hugged you back even tighter. “Well, I think you were an amazing surgeon.”

As you continued your pretend surgery, Alex couldn't help but smile at you as you played together. He didn’t regret taking the day off at all.

[zepskies]

Break Me Down - Part 17

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: *Gives you a box of virtual tissues.* Just in case. 😘

Word Count: 6,000 Tags/Warnings: Macho angst ahead, hurt/comfort, major, major fluff…

Part 17: More Than Words Can Say

Mount Sinai Hospital was one of the largest private hospitals in the city. 

Fortunately, it was also the closest to Vought Tower, or what once had been the focal point of the superhero industry. It had been reduced to mere rubble and whatever dilapidated parts still stood. 

All the news outlets were covering the tower’s collapse, and speculating on what could’ve created the blast that made the entire city tremble—not unlike last year’s incident, when Soldier Boy killed the most powerful supe in the world.

In the hospital, M.M. walked through the Emergency Department until he found Yvette and her son, Devon. They sat beside each other on a single cot, now joined by Yvette’s husband Chris while she signed her discharge papers. She’d gotten off with a minor concussion and a bandage over her temple. 

“Just checking in on you guys,” M.M. said. Yvette smiled, but she asked about you. 

“She’s in surgery,” he told her. 

Yvette nodded, though tears welled up in her eyes. Chris rubbed her back and held his son’s shoulder. 

“Please call me with any news on her,” Yvette asked. 

“You got it,” M.M. said.

“And please,” she said, holding her son. “Thank Soldier Boy for us.”

M.M. paused at that. 

Seeing the family was well in hand, he returned to the trauma wing. There in the waiting room sat the whole team, minus Butcher, who’d been admitted to the hospital as well after the ED doctors didn’t like what they’d found on his lab reports. (But M.M. would look into that later. Hughie was with him now anyway.)

That left Frenchie, Kimiko, and Annie to wait for any news on you. Even Grace had arrived an hour ago. 

But M.M.’s attention was drawn to the dusty motherfucker standing near the hallway. 

Soldier Boy leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. The collar of his supe suit was undone to give his neck and chest some breathing room. He’d removed his gloves, and an empty gallon jug of water lied at his feet. 

He was covered in a fine layer of soot and grime, though he’d since washed his hands and face to the best of his ability. He was also flanked by his two hired men, Frank Cardoza and Lorenzo Rivales. 

Grace had run a quick background check on both, and as M.M. had learned, they were ex-Marines Soldier Boy had picked up in Colombia, while he was busy infiltrating a drug cartel.   

Fucking figures, M.M. thought, shaking his head as he watched the man. Grace stood and joined him.

“He’s not just gonna fuck off back to South America,” he told her. “You realize that right?”

She considered that with a tilt of her head. “Let’s just see what happens here.”

As if right on cue, your surgeon made his way down the hall and over to the waiting group. Ben pushed off the wall and went to meet him, as did Grace, Annie, and M.M. 

Annie and Ben eyed each other with mistrust and annoyance, respectively, but then he ignored her to regard the surgeon with a terse, expectant gaze.  

The doctor was a graying man in his fifties. He seemed to internally brace himself before he spoke, glancing at Ben first before the others. 

“We’ve repaired the damaged muscle around her right leg. The femur is broken. We also addressed the wound near her shoulder,” he said. “However, the rebar did nick her heart. She’ll need additional surgery to repair it.”

Ben sensed a but coming. He crossed his arms. “Okay, what’s the problem?”

The doctor gave a nod and a short sigh. 

“She’s lost a lot of blood,” he explained. “We’ve given her a transfusion, of course, but she’s in a delicate state right now.”

“So why’re you wasting time? Do your fucking job,” Ben snapped. Grace shot him a glance, but addressed the doctor herself.

“What are her odds, doctor?” she asked. Ben eyed her with a glare. She ignored him for the time being. 

“She needs this now. But, there is a chance she won’t make it out of surgery at this stage,” the surgeon replied. “The OR will be available in thirty minutes…so this would be the time to be with her, just in case she’s unable to get through this.”

“Excuse me?” Ben said. 

His tone was dark and deep with grit, and the doctor stepped back. No one dared attempt to hold Ben back, but Grace quickly thanked the doctor and urged him to move forward with prepping you for surgery. 

Loco shared a saddened look with Frank, who watched their boss with a deepening frown. 

Annie turned to Ben with a measure of sympathy, hidden underneath her irritation at his attitude and her worry for you. You were still her friend, and she felt guilty for how cold she’d been treating you lately. And she could see, at the very least, that this man cared about you. 

“Look, can you just calm down a bit? We’re all here hoping she pulls through,” Annie said. 

M.M. stood behind her, silent, supportive. But Ben just ignored her, and everyone else for that matter. 

He stalked down the hallway. And when he turned a corner, out of eyeshot, he growled and punched a hole deep into the closest wall.

Hughie perked up when Butcher finally started to rouse in his hospital bed. They had him on a hefty dose of morphine. 

He blinked his weary eyes, his head rolling over on the pillow. His lips quirked when he noticed Hughie, who was glaring at him. 

“Watching me sleep now?” Butcher remarked. “Pretty fuckin’ creepy, Hugh.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Hughie said. 

That was something Butcher couldn’t refute. He nodded. “I see they told you.”

“When were you gonna say something?” Hughie said. “When you fucking dropped dead?”

“Probably not even then,” Butcher teased. But when he took in the younger man’s face, all he saw was his little brother, Lenny. Butcher sighed. 

“Ain’t nothing any of us can do about it.”

“Fucking cancer?” Hughie said incredulously. “You could’ve gotten treatment.”

“Would’ve bought me a few more months, maybe,” Butcher admitted. That fell between them for a moment with stony silence. 

“It’s all right,” he added. “I’ve had my fucking time. Got to see the life drain from that golden cunt’s eyes…got to let my girl rest easy.”

Hughie didn’t buy that. Or maybe, he just didn’t want to. His eyes burned, both with emotion and determination. He stood from his seat and set out to find Grace. If there was anything that could help Butcher, she would know. 

While the others went down to the cafeteria for a bite to eat, Frank sat in the waiting room with Loco beside him and Dr. Baker’s briefcase on his lap.

He was sorting through its contents while Loco sat with crossed arms and slumping shoulders. He looked over at Frank’s stoic profile with a frown.

He was older, but not by much. They’d gone through one fresh hell after another together, and somehow, Frank always managed to pull their asses out of the wringer. It seemed Frank was trying to do the same for their boss. 

It was funny, actually. Soldier Boy wasn’t their first contractor. You were their first kidnapping though. Neither he or Frank had felt good about it when Antonio brought you back to the mansion in Medellin, but they’d agreed to do a job. Guarding you became part of that job. 

And yet, you had somehow reminded both Frank and Loco that they used to be respectable members of society. They used to have families, friends. They had once been soldiers. Good men. Maybe that was why they’d grown fond of you over the past few months. 

And Frank…well, Loco knew the man had his reasons for wanting to be done with this work. Loco couldn’t blame him; he was feeling tired himself. 

“Found anything good?” Loco asked in Spanish. Frank’s dark brows had drawn together in new interest.

“More than good,” he said. He looked up, but didn’t find Soldier Boy in the waiting room. “Where the hell did he go?”

Loco pointed to the reception desk. “Try asking someone.”

With a sharp sigh, Frank gave Loco the briefcase. “Guard that with your fucking life. Don’t let anyone from the CIA take it from you.”

Loco gave him a look of offense. “It’s like you don’t know me at all, bro. Fucking hurts.” 

Rolling his eyes, Frank got up and went over to the reception desk. 

“Excuse me,” he said. There seemed to be no one at the reception desk. Granted, it was late at night, and they technically weren’t supposed to be there. Grace Mallory had worked out an agreement with the hospital to allow them all to stay overnight. 

He didn’t have to wait too long though, as an on-duty nurse came over with a clipboard in hand. Her red hair caught his eye, along with her pretty smile. 

“Hi there. Can I help you?” she asked. 

Frank faltered, just for a moment. But he cleared his throat and met her eyes. 

“Did you happen to see which way Soldier Boy went?” he asked.

She gave him a wan smile and pointed down the hall, to the left. “That ‘a way. Think he had an argument with the wall over there.”

Frank followed her gaze and caught sight of the hole in the wall. He frowned. 

“Sorry about that,” he said. 

The nurse gave him a sideways look. “No worries, hun. It’s not your fisticuff outline in the wall, now is it?”

Once again, Frank didn’t know quite what to say to her slightly teasing smile. But he returned it, more reserved, but genuine. 

“Thank you,” he said, with a nod. Then he remembered then what he needed to do. 

And he took off brusquely down the hall. 

It took him a few minutes to pull his head together, but Ben eventually worked up his nerve to go and see you. 

You were still drugged out asleep, of course. He stood outside the large window of your private room in the Intensive Care Unit. He wouldn’t go in though. Part of him refused to believe it had gotten to this. 

And the reality, that this was his fault. He’d caused the blast that destroyed the tower. His fault he hadn’t gotten to you sooner.

“You are the reason I needed saving,” you’d told him once. 

You were right then, and it still held up now. 

So, no…he wouldn’t go in there, into your room. The truth was, he couldn’t. 

But Ben’s awareness prickled before he noticed, Frank had joined him. Ben tolerated it. While he wanted to be alone, maybe part of him (one he wouldn’t acknowledge) craved some kind of company. 

“You’ll get paid, don’t you fucking worry,” he said dryly. 

“That’s not the only reason I’m here,” Frank said. 

It felt like a confession. Ben didn’t reply though; he was focused on your pale face, covered by the breathing mask. Shallow puffs of air fogged the inside of it while your heart monitor clipped on.

“There’s another solution here,” Frank said. 

Ben gave him a cursory side glance. “She wouldn’t take Compound V. Not even to save her fucking life.”

“That didn’t stop you before,” Frank mentioned. 

Ben didn’t answer, but he’d been internally debating it ever since he’d spoken with the surgeon. 

“All right, get it over here,” he said. “The temporary stuff.” 

Frank rose a brow. He’d been curious enough to try testing the man. But now, he frowned.

“She won’t forgive you,” he pointed out. 

“What’re you, devil’s fucking advocate? She’ll get the fuck over it,” Ben snapped. 

But after his initial anger subsided…he knew his subordinate was right. 

“She’ll be alive to hate me,” he said, more honestly.  

Frank inclined his head. “There could be another way.” 

Ben glanced over at him. 

“She lost a lot of blood,” Frank said. Ben frowned.  

“They’ve given her fucking blood transfusions—” 

“Yeah, normal blood. A supe’s blood is stronger. Yours could probably heal her,” Frank said. “But, the only one who can break your skin is you.”

Ben eyed him in suspicion. “Who told you that?” 

“Read it somewhere,” Frank said evasively. 

Ben huffed in response, but as that realization truly sunk into his mind, his lips pressed together in new determination. He left Frank to start a brusque pace down the hall. 

He ignored the red-headed nurse calling at him at the reception desk when he shoved through a locked security door, into the OR unit. He searched until he found your surgeon and pulled him from the sink he was washing his hands in.

The man gasped with fright, though he tried to hide it looking up at Ben. “What the hell’re you doing?”

“I’m making a donation,” said Ben. He raised a blunt nail to his wrist. “You better hurry the fuck up, because I’m about to open a vein.”

It was morning by the time another doctor returned to deliver an update on your progress: the “treatment” was working. Your wounds had knitted closed within an hour following the blood transfusion, and you no longer needed surgery. They had also x-rayed your leg and found that the bone was whole once again. Even your broken ribs had healed.

Ben nodded at the news. He didn’t respond, and just started walking down the hall. Grace, Annie, and M.M. stared after him with mixed reactions of confusion and curiosity. 

“Where are you going?” Annie asked. She was exhausted; all of them were. 

The supe ignored her though. M.M. shared a look with her before he decided to follow the man. 

Meanwhile, Ben once again stopped in the middle of the hallway when he was out of view. He took in a slow, steadying breath of relief, his fists clenching at his sides.

“Congratulations. After today, you’re gonna get your statue put back up,” M.M. said.

Ben turned around to stare back at the man, schooling his face into a stoic frown. 

“Yvette and her son are going to be fine, by the way,” M.M. added, as he crossed his arms.

Ben paused slightly at that, filing that information away with secret satisfaction. 

To M.M., he merely raised a brow. “You got something to say, or are you going to keep wasting my fucking time?”  

“You think saving one black kid makes you a hero?” M.M. asked, point blank. “Taking down Vought. Saving her. What does that all mean to you?”

Ben frowned in irritation. “Why the fuck do you care?”

“Just answer the question. Be honest for once in your motherfuckin’ life,” M.M. said. “Do you really think you’re a hero?”

Silence fell between them. 

Ben didn’t know what it was about this guy. Maybe it was his persistence, or the fact that he’d pulled you out of the rubble and got you to a hospital in time to save your life. 

But Ben actually considered the question.

Killing Stan Edgar and Black Noir. Saving you. He’d done it all for selfish reasons. The kid…that was something else. His face stuck in Ben’s mind, how he’d trusted the superhero, like dumb kids were supposed to do.

But in that moment, carrying the tower on his back and knowing he was the only barrier between a mountain of hot rubble and this one kid…Ben hadn’t wanted to fail. 

And still. You are the reason I needed saving…

It wasn’t really saving the fucking day if he started it, was it?

Ben’s lips turned on a humorless smile. Still, he had saved the kid. And his mom. And you. For now, that was enough.

“Looks like I am,” said Ben.

But he met M.M.’s stare, briefly allowing him to glimpse beyond a wall of arrogance and pride.

And Ben walked away. M.M. watched him go in silent contemplation.

Grace intercepted Ben before he could visit you in the ICU. 

Christ. What the fuck now? he thought sourly. 

She gestured for a word, and with an annoyed look, he followed her down the hall.

“I’ll get to the point,” she said. “Butcher is sharing a floor with your girlfriend, down in Oncology.”

Ben raised a brow. That prick had cancer? Par for the fucking course, if he said so himself. 

“So?” he remarked. 

Grace sighed. She’d expected that reaction. “They’ve given him weeks, but the way he’s been pushing himself, more likely it’s days. Taking the untested Temp V long-term has had its adverse side effects…if you were to make another blood donation, I’ll make it worth your while.” 

So now his blood was some fucking wonder drug? Hell no, Ben thought. 

“You’re asking me to save the guy who’s double-crossed me, tried to hunt me down, tried to end me?” he said, with a dark, incredulous chuckle. “You can fuck right off, sweetheart.”

She grated at the sweetheart remark, but Grace leveled him with steely blue eyes.

“If it weren’t for me, you’d be on ice right now,” she pointed out. 

Ben’s lips pursed. He’d really like to snap this bitch’s fucking neck on principle…but then he thought about it. He could work this into his favor. 

“You know what. I’m having a good day, so maybe I’m feeling fucking generous,” he said. His mouth edged into a smirk. “But I think it’s time we renegotiated our contract. Don’t you?”

Grace stared up at him, and she inhaled a deep breath. 

“Fine.”

You slowly woke up in a hospital room, in a paper gown with an IV drip and a heart monitor. Which made sense, as the events of yesterday came back to you in a rush. 

But beyond feeling relieved to be alive, you also felt extremely well-rested. You didn’t feel like a building fell on you. 

What kind of masterful drugs are they giving me? You tried to read your chart on the wall, but you didn’t see any pain medication on there. 

Annie popped into your private recovery room. Her face brightened when she saw that you were awake. 

“Hey, hun! How do you feel?” she asked, lowering into a chair at your bedside. You wouldn’t know that this chair had been occupied by various members of the team over the past few hours, including M.M., Frenchie, Frank, and even Grace. 

“Great, actually,” you replied. But now you frowned. “I shouldn’t feel great.”

You remembered nearly being crushed under a pile of rubble. You remembered falling on a piece of rebar, and unable to move your crushed leg. You remembered the worry in Ben’s eyes… 

And panic stung at yours.

“Did they give me Compound V?” your voice shook when you asked. Annie calmed you down with a shake of her head and a reassuring hand on your arm. 

The door to your room opened once again. Ben’s frame filled up the doorway. When his eyes met yours, your breath caught in your throat. He was still in his supe suit, and with his hands resting on his belt, he strutted inside the room. 

M.M., Frenchie, Frank, Loco, and Kimiko came in behind him and at least looked showered. Ben looked like he hadn’t even done that much, nor slept all night.

“It wasn’t the V,” he said at last. “Just a little blood donation. Seemed to work like a charm.”

His resulting grin had a bit of charm in it as well. Your head tilted in confusion.

"Whose blood?" you asked.

"Mine," he said. His expression faded, slightly more serious.

You found yourself slowly smiling, though your brows still furrowed in surprise. He gave me his blood…instead of Compound V.

While you tried to wrap your mind around the gravity of that, you reached for the pitcher of water on the rolling tray beside you. You grasped the pitcher, but the plastic actually crunched in your hand. You gasped and moved your hand over so the water inside wouldn’t spill all over you.

Ben raised a brow. 

The room fell silent as all eyes stared at you. When the water finished pouring out onto the floor, you gently set it back down on the tray. 

“Seems you got some of his strength in the deal,” Annie remarked. 

“Great, there’s two of them,” Hughie quipped with a grin. 

“Well, that’s probably just temporary,” M.M. sighed. “Hopefully.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh, and it brought a slight grin to Ben’s lips. 

After a bit of well wishing, everyone cleared out of your room to let you rest up…except for Ben, Frank, and Loco. 

“What are you guys going to do now?” you asked of the latter two. Loco cracked his knuckles. 

“Got another job lined up in private security,” he revealed. “I’ve lost the taste for drug running. Nearly lost a damn toe on the last one.”

You laughed. “Well, thanks for doing one more job here.”

“Anything for el Capitán,” Loco said, giving Ben a respectful nod. “He pays exceedingly well.”

You raised a brow at Ben, who shrugged with a cocky grin. Smiling, you turned to Frank, who was sitting in the chair beside your bed. 

“And you?” you asked. Frank gave you a rare smile. 

“Going home,” he said. “To my daughter.”

Your eyes began to sting, but you tried to blink away the beginnings of tears. You nodded and squeezed his arm. 

“Give her a big hug for me. And thank you again…for everything,” you said, even though you realized that thanking your former guard keep was strange. Still, there had been no part of your kidnapping that was normal in the least. 

Frank hesitated, but he covered your hand with his. 

Though he caught the way Ben’s face tightened, and Frank let go of you. He stood with Loco, giving you and Ben a final nod. Then the two men left your room and disappeared down the hall.

Part of you felt melancholy, like chapters of your life were closing. But you also felt like new ones were waiting in the wings.

Your gaze turned to Ben, who stood near your bed.

He was looking over your chart to see if the doctors needed anything else before you were discharged. But your soft voice called to him, earning his attention. You beckoned him closer.

He went over and sat down on the edge of your bed, laying a hand on your thigh. You reached out for his arm. 

“Thank you,” you said. 

Ben scoffed, though a hint of humor glinted in his eyes. “For what? Saving your reckless ass for the millionth time?”

“For saving Yvette and her son,” you replied with a smile. “And yeah, all that other stuff.” 

Your hand slid down his arm and slipped into his hand. Your fingers curled around his palm. 

“Really. Thank you…” 

Tears welled up in your eyes again. You still couldn’t fucking believe he opened up one of his own veins and gave you his blood. He gave a public hospital his blood in order to save you. 

He could’ve easily slipped you V24 again, or worse, the permanent stuff. But he didn’t just save you. He’d respected your wishes. 

What you wanted to say next got stuck in your throat.

Ben had something hiding behind his eyes, like he was reluctant to show you his real emotions. But when he focused on your face, his hand tightened on yours. His jaw clenched, but he didn’t speak. He only let go of your hand to brush a falling tear from your cheek. His lips twitched at a smile.

“Come on now, baby doll. You’re tougher than that.”

You choked on a laugh as more of your tears slipped down your warming cheeks. “Nope. I’m actually not.”

“Hmm. Could’ve fooled me,” Ben said. You matched his grin with a beaming smile of your own.  

Slowly, you pushed yourself up and took his dirty face in your hands. You guided him down to you, and you pressed your lips to his. 

He allowed it with his usual demanding, fervent kiss. But then it slowed. He held your wrist to keep your hand in place on his cheek, and his thumb drew bath and forth over your skin. 

You parted from him, pulling back enough to see his face. There was so much you wanted to say…but maybe right now, it was too much. 

You met him with another tearful kiss.

Before you were officially discharged from the hospital, you had one more visitor. 

Grace was once again there to debrief you. This time though, Ben sat at your side on the bed, a silent statue who regarded the woman coolly. He seemed to be tolerating her presence with more ease than usual, and you wondered why.

“You’re going on medical leave,” she informed you. “For three months, and then a psychiatrist will need to clear you for duty.”

Part of you wanted to argue, considering you were completely healed of your injuries. But you knew you needed a break from the S.A.—from all of this. 

“Your mother and sister will be brought out of witness protection soon, after we determine that the threat is sufficiently neutralized,” she said. “You can return home today as well.”

You could finally go back to your apartment…though the thought didn’t call to you as much as it should have. You glanced over at Ben.

“Is this the part where you try to ship him back to Colombia?” you asked. 

“That was the agreement,” Grace said wryly. You frowned, trying to blink away the tears forming once again in your eyes.

You didn’t want to lose him, but you also didn’t want to give up your life here. You didn’t want to leave the S.A., or your family, or your friends. Ben put you out of your misery, however.

“We renegotiated,” he said. 

Your eyes widened. “What?”

Grace explained, “In exchange for his assistance in another case, he can stay in the U.S. on a trial basis. As long as he agrees to live within the law.”

You didn’t entirely trust Grace. Ben would be watched at every moment. That was a given, but considering he still didn’t have full control over his nuclear power, you were surprised Grace would allow him free roam within U.S. borders. 

“And, provided, he agrees to a relocation. Preferably not in a densely populated area,” Grace added.

There it is, you frowned. You shared a look with him, and you could see he wasn’t entirely on board with this. You had no doubt he’d agreed to her demands by lying through his teeth. 

You turned back to Grace.

“What if he becomes a contractor for Supe Affairs,” you proposed. “There may be some fallout after Vought’s collapse, and more of their records to go through. Other labs to clear out. Ben would be a lot of help, if he’s willing.”

You glanced at Ben again. He met your eyes, then Grace’s, and he nodded marginally. He was getting bored of the heat in South America anyway. 

Grace heaved a sigh. Ben’s lips formed a smirk. 

“Oh, relax. I just ended Vought. You’d be an idiot not to cash in on that PR,” he pointed out. 

“Need I remind you that you caused the tower’s collapse?” Grace said tersely. “And you did not end Vought. There will be repercussions to this, believe me.”

Ben’s face tightened, but you grasped his hand. 

“But he fulfilled the mission,” you said. “He took out Black Noir…and Stan Edgar in the process.”

“The idea was to arrest him, but I get your point,” Grace said. Her hand raised to cover her mouth as she thought about your proposal.

Eventually, she spoke. “If you can play by our rules, then we’ll contract with you. But until you get that atomic bomb under control, you can’t remain the city. Upstate is the best I can do.”

Ben chafed at being told what he couldn’t do. What the fuck was he going to do in Upstate New York? Slowly rot to death in dusty-ass suburbia?

You shot him a knowing look, raising a brow. 

“It’s a fair offer, Ben,” you pointed out. His lips pursed in annoyance. But he glanced at your hand in his.

Then he looked up at Grace. “Fine. But first, unfreeze my fucking bank accounts.”

Ben later led you out of the hospital. There was a car waiting outside, and he got in to drive, despite you offering. He must’ve been going on very little sleep, if any over the past two days. 

And of course, he’d refused to be seen at all medically, saying he was fine. You were still concerned about that destabilizing gun Black Noir had shot him with. 

“I’m fine,” Ben had claimed. “Just need some sleep, that’s all.”

You watched his profile for a moment, and a smile started to raise your lips…until you finally remembered something that felt like a heavy stone in your stomach.

“Um…” you said, earning Ben’s attention. You looked up at him. “My father’s dead…”

Good fucking riddance, was Ben’s initial reaction. Followed by a frown, as he now realized he would never get the pleasure of choking the shit out of Jon himself. 

Ben had been fucking livid to learn from Frank that you’d been left alone in the Tower with your father while it was coming down (and Ben was petty enough to dock that little slip up from Frank’s pay). Had that asshole lived, Ben wouldn’t have put it past him to try and take you with him after escaping the building. The mere thought grated on him. 

“Black Noir killed him,” you said, heaving a shaky breath. 

That cut through Ben’s thoughts. He glanced over, watching you fight some conflicting emotions. 

“…Punched a hole straight through his chest,” you added.

Ben hummed in acknowledgement. You turned to him with a raised brow and glassy eyes. When he realized you were expecting a bit more from him, his lips pursed.

“Well, he got a quick death,” he said. “Better than he fucking deserved, far as I’m concerned.”

You sighed and leaned your head back on the head rest. Your eyes closed. 

“Goddamn it, Ben.”

Ben eyed you with a deepening frown. “What the fuck do you expect me to say?”

“How about some decency?” you asked, as a tear fell down your cheek. “He tried to apologize. But I wouldn’t let him.”

He paused at that. While he thought you were being unreasonable, it begrudgingly dawned on him what you wanted, and maybe, what you needed. He sighed through his nose. Even now, you were a handful.

Ben reached over, taking your hand from your lap. He pressed the back of it to his lips, earning your mild surprise.  

“That’s not your fault,” he said. And he briefly took his eyes off the road to look into yours. “None of it was. You understand me?”

Your face softened. Though you tried to blink away your tears, a few of them still fell. You wiped at them with your free hand, while the other squeezed around his fingers, resting against your thigh. Despite how you were fracturing inside, warmth still kept you afloat. 

So you looked up at Ben, and you nodded. He seemed satisfied by your answer. He turned back fully to the road, but you kept a tight hold of his hand. He allowed it.   

“We’ll have to go to the safe house to get our stuff,” you said eventually, with a small sniffle.

“No need,” Ben said. “That’s taken care of.”

That confused you. Was he taking you to your apartment then? 

But instead, he drove you out of the city, and an hour upstate into Scarsdale. You’d never been there, but you knew it by reputation—as one of the most affluent towns in the state.

You were even more confused when he drove down a street flanked by tall hedges within a private community. He pulled into a circular driveway in front of an immense white house, with a red brick roof, colonial architecture, a manicured lawn, complete with matching fountains lining the front door.

Ben parked the car and encouraged you to get out with him. You followed him up to the front porch, expecting an old billionaire to pop out of the tall bushes at any moment to chase you away. 

“What’re we doing here?” you asked. His hands fell to the belt of his supe suit as he surveyed the stood, the door, and the walls for anything amiss. 

“I’m looking into buying it,” he revealed, as if he’d just told you, It’s pretty fucking sunny today, huh? 

“Our stuff is ready to be shipped out when the deal closes with the owner,” he added.

Your eyes flew wide. “What? When did you have time to scope out houses?” 

You’d only been discharged about an hour after the conversation with Grace. 

“I had Frank look into some shit. He found this one,” Ben shrugged. “Could use some work, but not bad.”

Our stuff, you repeated in your mind. This house…was he trying to recreate what the two of you had in Medellin?

And more importantly, was this his way of asking you to move in with him? 

Well, there’s not too much asking going on, you thought in annoyance. And yet, you blushed; the sentiment in itself was enough to warm you. 

You brought Ben back down to Earth by grasping his hands, earning his attention from the old grout in the tile.

“Ben, this place is amazing,” you said. “But I don’t know if I’ll be comfortable living like this.”

He frowned down at you. “What the hell do you mean? You could have anything you want here. It’s safe. Got plenty of room—”

“A bit too much room,” you said, holding up your thumb and forefinger a couple inches apart. 

He looked adorably grumpy. You smiled and squeezed his hand. 

“Did you really feel cozy and at home in that mansion with fifty rooms and nobody in ‘em?” you asked.

He didn’t answer you, and he didn’t seem happy either. You didn’t want him to take this as a rejection. 

“If we’re going to do this,” you said, “then can we start a little smaller? Somewhere that feels like home to both of us?”

Ben stared back at you in annoyance. “You need to broaden your palate.”

You just managed to stop yourself from laughing.

“You haven’t had a normal home in a long time, Ben,” you replied. Maybe ever, you realized. “How about you trust me?” 

He gave you a dubious frown.

“What about this,” you tried. “Let’s pick it out together! If in a few months you still hate the new place, we’ll try it your way.” 

“You’re assuming we’re gonna make it that long.” Ben was starting to wonder if this was going to work after all. The two of you were from very different worlds. 

You offered a cheeky smile. “I’m optimistic.”

He huffed. “Sure.” 

You reached up on your toes, and gripped the front of his suit when you leaned up to kiss him. His hands rose naturally to hold you, resting on your jean-clad hips. He followed your languid kiss, his furrowed brows relaxing when you touched his cheek.

When you broke from his lips, his eyes opened to find yours. 

“I am, Ben,” you said more seriously. “I’m not playing games. This is real to me, and I want to be with you.” 

But then you hesitated. You lowered back down to your feet. 

“But if it’s not to you…if you’re just passing time with me, until you get bored,” you said, “tell me now. Please.” 

It was Ben’s turn to hesitate. It was the please that got to him, along with your downturned gaze. He captured your chin between his fingers and raised your face up to him. 

“I’m not fucking around,” he said. “I want you to live with me.” 

Your smile was soft and bright when you took his hand. Ben wouldn’t admit it, but something in his chest stuttered to life then.

“Okay,” you said with a nod. “Let’s do it.”

AN: *squeals* It's happening! We've really gotten here, folks. How'd you like how it all wrapped up with Grace, M.M., and even Butcher?

But we're not quite there with these two yet...

Next Time:

“Why’re you nagging me like a goddamn wife?” he snapped.

“Wife?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “You don’t even call me your girlfriend.”

But God forbid another man even smile in your direction. Ben was possessive, protective, and claimed with all but words that you were his. And yet, he wouldn’t say it.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that he was afraid of commitment, but you’d been living together for six damn months.

Keep reading: THE EPILOGUE

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Antiseptic and Latex

Zayne x gn!Reader

Kinda related to Protocore Syndrome in that it could possibly be that same MC, but that's the only connection to it really

Warnings: hospitals, established relationship

Word Count: 593

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Zayne feels the exhaustion seep deep into his bones. His fingers ache and his back is stiff, yet sleep continues to elude him. He knows why, of course. After all, most surgeons would collapse after a 10-hour surgery, even with the rotation of personnel that had to be done to avoid mistakes being made. Most surgeons, however, aren’t also dating another surgeon.

He blearily checks the time on his phone. He couldn’t read his watch if he tried, eyes strained from looking at fine details and precision techniques for hours on end. Your operation should be finishing soon, if all was going well. You’d been at the hospital all day, from 6 o’clock in the morning, prepping so you could start the operation in time to be done by 8. It’s unlikely you’ve eaten anything more than granola bars today. He’s not doing much better.

The little room - provided by the hospital for situations exactly like this - is bare, packed only with the essentials: a bed, a mini fridge, and an entire pantry of snacks. The mattress is firm, the pillows are flat, and Zayne can only imagine how amazing his worn out body would feel in his own bed.

Time passing is lost on him as he drifts in and out of consciousness. Minutes feel like hours, distorted in the haze of partial-dreams. The only thing he’s really aware of is the gentle, barely-there knock on the door before it opens. The familiar, equally as exhausted sigh, and the person crawling into the bed with him.

His arms automatically wrap around you, drawing you into him just as you collapse into his chest. His heart beats steadily in your ear through his rumpled dress shirt. His tie is who-knows-where. His lab coat hangs on the back of the door next to yours.

You practically melt into him. Neither of you are exceptionally touchy people, save for moments like these when it’s all you seem to crave. When his fingers scratch sleepily at your scalp, and his hand trails mindlessly under your shirt to find bare skin. When you go through the momentous effort of dragging yourself further up until you can press your face into his warm neck, and tangle your legs so one of his is hooked over your thigh and woven between your calves.

“How’d yours go?” you mumble almost incoherently against him.

He hums, drawing in the strength to speak while his thoughts are so sluggish. “There was a minor hiccup, but it was inconsequential… They’ll live.” He presses his nose into your hair. It smells like antiseptic and latex, with a faint hint of your shampoo. “Yours?”

You breathe him in deeply. Antiseptic and latex, with the minor essence of his body wash. “Same…” You yawn. “What’re we gonna do for breakfast?”

It’s still only 8:12 at night. There are several hours between now and the morning, hours that hopefully include going home to your real bed and taking a long shower. But you both know by now that it is extremely unlikely you’ll stir anytime before 9am.

He sighs softly against your hair. His fingers slow their ministrations against your scalp. He’s on the precipice. You’re quickly trailing after. “Hmmm… There’s the diner, nearby…”

You hum, words slurring together. “Sounds good… G’night…”

He doesn’t get the words out before he finally succumbs to the sweet temptress of slumber. You pull an arm from around him to rest your hand over his heart. The soothing rhythm is like a lullaby, lulling you slowly but surely into rest. 

---

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CH2-12 thoughts (spoilers, I guess. You probably shouldn't be in the tag if you haven't finished the episode though.)

So! DRDT is officially back, and wow what a way to begin the rollercoaster we'll be put through the next few weeks. This episode was amazing, and I wanted to discuss my thoughts on it in a more detailed form. This episode gave us a lot of character moments that I want to at least mention, so let's get into it? Before we do though, I want to say that through these posts, I will be updating two things and showing them at the beginning and end First one being the swear statistics! It became a thing after my previous rewatch that every time a character swears, I count it, and I want to continue doing that for the rest of the series if I can so manage it.

^ current swear statistics as of CH2-11

And the second being...drumroll please!

My own personal DRDT CH2-Part 2 bingo card! If something on this list happens in CH2-Part 2, I'll check it off. Hopefully I can get a bingo or two in here, especially since, spoilers, two of the boxes have already been checked. But with all of that preamble out of the way, let's begin shall we? I’m going to cover the character moments we got in separate categories of the well…characters, rather than in order, for the sake of being concise.

Arturo

First and foremost, “Shut your whore mouth” made me scream at the top of my lungs. God I wish that was voiced. But more importantly, the thing about Arturo being very young for a plastic surgeon actually being addressed was not something I expected, especially so early. But I definitely appreciate the nuggets of Arturo backstory. Funny enough, his situation sounds very similar to Min’s in some regard, especially this line

(x) Arturo: I was only able to get this far in such a short amount of time because I specialized in plastic surgery, and nothing else. I neglected everything that wasn't immediately relevant to my goals.

This absolutely plays a factor into his relationship with his little sister. It more than likely was not just him leaving that made her commit suicide, but perhaps also years of neglect. And if she really felt like she couldn't live a life without Arturo in it, it's safe to say that their parents probably weren't the best either. The more I learn about Arturo and his homelife the more worried I am for him and especially his sister.

Veronika

Veronika didn't get much besides being her usual self, but I gave her a category because I wanted to point out two things One, Veronika calling Arturo cute. That just made me smile

And secondly, this line right here

(x) Veronika: Oh, and don't say something as boring as "I want to kill myself." I have no interest in such mundane reasons.

This is so fucked up and awful and gross and I absolutely love her for it. I just know she's going to get worse, I hope she does.

And also the fact that she apparently finds suicide to be inherently boring is very interesting, given the fact that she more than likely has the self-harm secret.

Whit

I know he didn't have much, if any major role in this episode but...listen I missed him. So much. You have actually zero idea how much I missed him and his goofiness... But also I can't believe that was the explanation for the dent in the computer lab that's been bugging me for months. Well played DT-Dev... (though the fact that Whit got away with breaking a rule solely because MonoTV thought it was funny is a bit fishy...it's almost like he's the MASTERMIND-- /hj)

We also in general got a lot of Charles and Whit moments, which I always like to see I don't think there's anything else to cover when it comes to Wh--

(x) David: Ugh! Goddamn it, Whit, does everything you say have to be made into some shitty dumb joke?! You're actually really fucking annoying! Shut the fuck up!!

...Well, when I said I wanted more Whitvid interactions I guess this can serve as a reward. ...guys dont worry this is how we can still wi--

Levi

...I mean, what else is there to say really?

No but actually I'll talk. This is what we've been theorizing for a year, and I actually had it in my predictions that Levi's secret was going to be the one revealed in this episode. But I did not expect it right at the end, nor did I expect it to be so sudden. And I don't think Levi has any reason to lie either, so I think this is his actual secret. Seeing him lose confidence and apologize for his unhelpfulness kind of stung to me, honestly. Levi has been trying to help the group since the very beginning, and that has only amplified since the start of Chapter 2. So seeing him...basically give up was very upsetting He is definitely going to be in the hot seat next week's episode and I am very excited for it, hopefully we get some insight on his past as well and...maybe a levi and nico interaction? please dt-dev? please? :>

Hu

FishyFried, as always, knocked it out of the fucking park with Hu's voice acting, and her monologue towards David was just as amazing...if not a bit terrifying, as it directly parallels with her hidden quote

I want to pay for what I’ve done. But even then, I still want to live.

I think I've said this before, but I adore David and Hu's dynamic and how both of them tackle the themes of change in their own ways, how both of them project onto the people around them to fulfill their own desires due to being stagnant in their own growth as people, it's so much fun, and I can't wait to see how this continues to develop in the later chapters I am sincerely a ch5victim!david + ch5killer!hu believer at the end of the day.

Teruko

Oh Teruko, quite a bit to discuss with you today.

For starters, her genuinely feeling embarrassed and upset upon realizing what she did wrong, apologizing for it, and (how I interpreted it anyway) beginning to realize that working alone and not accepting help from others is starting to bite her in the ass? That was not what I expected. I really did think that Teruko was going to get worse before she got better, but maybe she's improving a lot quicker than I thought (...let's hope she doesn't backslide again though, especially if the culprit is who I think it is) Also.

If I have to live with this knowledge, so the-fuck do you. And then there's her argument with David, which I already made a post about, but I want to add onto it by saying that the performances from Swords and LuucarIi here are absolutely phenomenal. One of my favorite voice acted scenes in the entire series. I have replayed Teruko's "Hah! Based on what?!" probably around 20 times and I will repeat it 20 times more because the delivery gives me actual chills. This fangan has such an amazing voice cast oh my god it's insane.

David

Oh. You are such a broken, broken man, and you are absolutely going to go down the Simon Laurent route. I actually don't have a lot to add when it comes to David's actual motivations for his actions, I think a lot of us theorized that he was trying to kill everyone and himself. But the main thing I want to talk about is the Xander shit because oh my god this man is Down Fucking Horrendous. I mentioned all the way back in this post that David idolizes Xander just as much as Xander idolizes him. What I didn't expect was for him to still be clinging onto the hope Xander gave him and trying to follow in his footsteps, and being borderline possessive over the damn dead man. Xander may have idolized David, but David is obsessed with Xander and what he represents to him. And he is willing to ruin his reputation, reliability, and dignity in pursuit of what he thinks is right. Not to mention, it puts the Tally5 image in a whole new light.

Though I still think these words apply to the very possible revolution that David, Xander, and Mai enacted towards Hope's Peak, a theory that has become even more credible after this episode, I also think these lines portray David's thought process during his actions in CH2-11 and his motivation for doing the things that he does. David calling Xander "the only good person he's ever known" is very, very telling when you consider what he personally thinks makes someone a bad person (lazy, useless, stupid). And that makes me upset. Xander and David's relationship will never not be absolutely fascinating to me. ...alSO DAVID APPARENTLY HAS MEMORIES FROM HOPE'S PEAK??? APPARENTLY??? Like am I reading that right or do I just have bad media literacy. How...How does he??? WHY does he??? Why did he say he didn't know who Xander was in the prologue???? I am very confused and I'm sure it will all be answered. Extra Thoughts !! - we got 7:30 AM confirmation, woohoo!! And the bonus of Arei swinging when she was first found was such a good detail and I’m surprised none of us noticed it, honestly. With that confirmation, that leaves basically everyone else (minus J, David, Veronika, Hu, and Nico) in the hot-seat. - the multitude of new sprites we got were so amazing, especially David's - Apparently everything that happened in the second half of CH2-11 was in the span of two hours?! Sheesh, the editing crew on the TV show must be working overtime. Hopefully they get a paycheck and its not just MonoTV who gets paid. - If I had any doubt in my brain that Eden was the culprit it has basically dissipated with this episode. I really do not know who else it could be other than her. three of the five main suspects other than her have basically been cleared up, either through alibi (J and Hu) or though plot (Levi) David and Nico are also cleared from suspicion Though there isn't really any plot or evidence reason to necessarily exclude Rose, given her moment in CH2-8 and, let's be honest, this murder being way too physically complicated for someone as lethargic as her to commit, I'm inclined to believe she is not And every other character has something that's clearly being set up to be further explored in Chapter 3 (Charles, Whit, Ace, Arturo, and Veronika) Like... even if you don't think Eden is the culprit, you can't deny that she's the odd one out here. I still think Accomplice!Levi is true, but I also truthfully think the culprit can't be anyone other than Eden - If I were to give one I-guess critique though, not just on this episode but on the trial as a whole, it's that we are four trial episodes in and there has been very, very little focus on the actual murder mystery itself. We have barely even covered 80% of the evidence. This isn't like, a huge problem for me specifically because I very much watch DRDT for the astounding character writing over the murder mysteries, and I definitely think that the lack of focus on the case is worth the amazing character moments we got in this episode. But I can see it really bothering some people, and there's a part of me that can't help but be a bit afraid that the actual solving of the murder case is going to hit the audience with a bunch of information at once and come across as a bit rushed due to the lack of focus it's had so far. I trust that DT-Dev is cooking though, and it'll probably be a lot more cohesive once we have the full trial to look through.

Predictions for CH2-13 - Like I said before, Levi is going to become the main suspect easily thanks to his secret reveal. I know Ace is going to be on his ass especially, because in his mind it would basically confirm the image he has already conjured up of Levi in his mind as a violent brute who is going to snap his neck any second. J is also going to jump to conclusions because that's just what she does, and she was already concerned about the murderer secret to begin with. - Furthermore, I think most of this episode is going to entail Teruko trying to disprove that Levi could've been the culprit. Considering the fact that there, well, isn't much evidence to suggest he didn't, maybe this episode will feature this chapter's Random Guess minigame. - I highly doubt we're getting an AM VS PM scrum debate now, but maybe we'll get one on whether or not Levi is the culprit? Maybe? - On the topic of trial minigames, I hope we get another nonstop debate, it's been like three episodes since we've had one lmao - Nico is either going to defend Levi, or reiterate the speech that J gave them in CH2-9. Either way, I hope this reveal causes them to interact it would be so interesting - We are on a track-record of having at least one person's secret exposed every trial episode. Considering the fact that Xander and Min are dead, and I do not think Teruko's secret will come out until the end of the chapter, that really only leaves Hu and Veronika...which is interesting, as they are both in the clear for being the culprit. Hu has already had multiple moments to shine in this trial, so I think its more likely that Veronika's secret will be the one getting revealed. How that happens, I am unsure. But I think Veronika will be the next person to have her secret revealed.

Conclusion Overall, I think this episode was amazing and a great way to kick off the end of the hiatus. I can already tell that these next few weeks are going to be a wild ride for us DRDT fans, but we're all in this together, so I think everything's going to be fine (nothing is going to be fine.)

UPDATED SWEAR STATISTICS: CH2-12

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