idk who needs to hear this, but low engagement does not mean your writing is bad.
engagement doesn’t solely depend on the quality of the work. whilst it can play a role, other things such as fandom, ship, tags, tropes and posting at the right time of the day/week play a SIGNIFICANT role.
so keep writing what you love. keep writing what makes your heart happy. your work is amazing. the fact that you’re even putting words out there is amazing.
I know it doesn't feel like it. People want you to update your story or post a new work of art. It feels like they're relying on you in a way. And none of us want to disappoint.
But it's okay to take a break when you need to. Maybe you're busy. Maybe you're depressed. Maybe the creativity just isn't creativing for you. That's okay.
You don't owe anyone an update. You don't owe anyone your productivity. You, my dear, are not a machine. You are a person and you, deserve to take care of yourself without guilt or shame.
So take a break if you need to. And come back when you're ready. I promise you, the people who are real fans, they'll wait. Take care of yourself my friends.
SYN. | first year pediatrics resident kim leehan is running on three things: an americano for breakfast, two hours of sleep, and a six-year-old crush on you that refuses to die
PAIR. ノ kim leehan x fem!reader | TAGS. ノpediatrics resident!leehan, ob-gyne resident!reader, workplace romance, mutual pining, medical jargon, some cursing | FEAT. ノ bnd, le serrafim eunchae, illit minju, riize anton | WC. 6.1k
( 연서 ) ノ its me being self-indulgent again. i may or may have stolen @lovehakie's doctor!leehan idea muwahaha. enjoy everyone! (esp kati and rosy who love it when i talk like a nerdy ahh medical student n i might have went overboard). reblogs are appreciated!
I'M GOING TO QUIT.
Leehan sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose as he slumped into the chair at the nurses' station.
It had been another brutal day in the life of a first-year pediatrics resident, another day that made him question every single decision that had led him here.
He thought he’d finally caught a breather after updating his consultant on an admitted patient’s labs. The conversation had gone better than expected. No scolding. No passive-aggressive sighs. He even had time to sip the cold coffee he’d abandoned three hours ago.
But that illusion of peace vanished within minutes. A patient’s IV line infiltrated, another developed a fever spike, and before he knew it, he was calling a different scarier consultant.
She had almost yelled at him.
Almost.
If it hadn’t been for his quick thinking and bravely suggested a change in antibiotics on top of the existing workups she previously ordered, he was sure he would’ve been flayed alive over the phone.
I’m going to quit. For real this time.
Maybe he’d take a break for a year. Maybe he’d switch residencies. His second choice had been surgery, and Sungho mentioned they had an opening after one of their residents left.
Why did he ever think pediatrics was a good idea?
Still, deep down, he knew it wasn’t that simple.
He loved pediatrics. He loved the tiny hands clutching his finger when visiting newborns in the neonatal ICU. He relished in the soft laughter that made his gruesome thirty-six-hour shifts worth it. He loved the joy of seeing a child finally discharged with a smile. But lately, the exhaustion outweighed the reward.
If something you loved drained you this much, wasn’t that a sign to let go?
He was still lost in thought when you walked into his line of sight.
Then, his vision tunneled so fast, it almost gave him whiplash.
You were a vision of calm amid chaos.
In crisp scrubs underneath your white resident coat and a patient’s chart in hand, you walked beside your consultant as you discussed a case. He couldn’t make out anything from your conversation, which was surprising since your consultant’s voice carried across the halls. You, on the other hand, held yourself in a cool and collected manner, completely unbothered by the exaggerated way your consultant talked.
You and Leehan had been batchmates in medical school. He’d been the average type, floating through rotations and surviving exams by spite, sheer will, and more americanos that he could count, while you, quiet and seemingly reserved, excelled in most of your subjects without batting an eye.
The first time he noticed you was during a clinical rotation, when you were paired together for patient interviews. You had this way of making patients feel heard, of explaining complex things in simple, human words which even the best of them struggled with. And when your patient thanked you for simply listening, you were kind to them in return, and Leehan felt this overwhelming sense of pride for witnessing it.
That was when it started.
The attraction.
He found himself looking for you during lectures, craning his neck to scan over a hundred of his other batchmates in the crowded audiovisual room. He went to the places you usually frequented, sitting on the same library table under the guise of staying close to the charging outlets. He joined your cramming sessions early in the morning, when everyone sits in a circle in the exam hall with you in the middle, rapid-firing questions he could barely answer.
It slowly built from admiration to fascination, then finally he realized, ah, I like this person.
I really, really like this person.
Unfortunately, he never got to confess, not even after graduation. You both went your separate ways, and he assumed that was it. Residency matching was never guaranteed, after all. His pediatrics application to KOZ General had been a long shot.
That was until his first day of pre-residency, when he saw you again standing by the bulletin board, wearing a neat ponytail and holding your pre-res form for obstetrics and gynecology. His heart had nearly stopped.
You were also applying in the same hospital as an ob-gyne resident. You were both doing pre-residency at the same time. And what a stroke of luck had it been that you matched each other medically. Obstetrics and pediatrics. What were the odds?
You would be an absolute power couple (oh how he wished!)
And when you both got accepted, turning into fully-fledged first year residents, he had been overjoyed.
That was a little over six months ago.
Now, Leehan was deep in the trenches. He was sleep-deprived and overworked. His only solace was the sight of you during rounds. And soon, if he were to stop in his ministrations of quitting, he’d be rotating in the neonatal ICU, which meant he’d see you in the operating room too.
Leehan’s shoulders relaxed slightly at the thought, his gaze lingering on you.
Okay, maybe he did have some attachment to this place. All thoughts of quitting were chucked into the backseat compartment of his mind for future use.
He was content just watching you for a moment, his notes forgotten on the table. Then, as if sensing his gaze, you looked up.
Your eyes met his, and Leehan swore your entire face brightened, or maybe that was just wishful thinking. Why would you look happy to see him, anyway?
“...Doctor Kim!”
He flinched and tore his eyes away, nearly knocking over his pen.
Nurse Jaehyun stood beside him, holding a chart. “Uh, sorry to interrupt, but could you clarify this order? I can’t read what you wrote here.”
Leehan groaned inwardly, cursing his own hieroglyphics handwriting. He could almost hear Taesan, his fellow first-year pediatrics resident, scolding him in his head to write more legibly.
“Right, sorry. That’s Paracetamol oral solution, 250mg/5mL, give 5 mL orally every 6 hours as needed for—”
“—temperature over 38 degrees Celsius. Got it.” Jaehyun scribbled it down, but hesitated before walking away. “Uh, Doctor Kim? You okay? You look more tired than usual.”
“I’m fine,” Leehan muttered, though his tone was anything but convincing.
He spared another glance in your direction, catching physical cues of the ending of an endorsement. When your consultant made her way to the elevator, Leehan knew you'd be on the way to the nurse's station.
He suddenly sat up.
This did not go unnoticed by Jaehyun, who quickly caught on when your voice filled the nurses' station.
“Good morning, Jaehyun!”
Jaehyun brightened. “Good morning, Doctor L/N. Always lovely to see you in the morning.”
His eyes briefly skipped to Leehan’s, mischievously twinkling in a sort of Aha! moment.
“Right, Doctor Kim?”
Leehan froze mid-note, pretending to write something while studiously avoiding the nurse’s teasing grin. “Uh. Morning.”
You smiled. “Morning, Doctor Kim.”
His pen was barely moving now, tracing meaningless lines while you leaned over the counter to jot down your orders. You made small talk about the ward census and he tried to respond in kind, anything to appear like a normal, functioning colleague and not someone who forgot how to breathe every time you were within five feet.
“Right. Gotta go,” you said eventually, straightening up. “We have two moms in labor right now. It’s Doctor Han helping with the deliveries today, right?”
Leehan had never been so jealous of Taesan, even in the professional context.
“Yeah,” Leehan replied, forcing a grin. “Good luck.”
You gave a small nod before hurrying off toward the delivery room.
He watched you leave, a quiet sigh escaping him before he could stop it.
“So that’s what everyone’s talking about,” Jaehyun commented under his breath, smirking. “You should make your move someday, Doctor Kim. Or, you know, stop staring like a lovesick intern.”
Leehan groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You want extra tasks today, Jaehyun? Because I can make that happen.”
Jaehyun laughed nervously. “Nope, all good, Doc.”
“Good,” Leehan said, handing him three more charts. “Then go endorse these. And check the vitals for the last three admissions. Oh, and make sure the discharge summary’s printed for Bed 7.”
Jaehyun’s grin faltered. “You’re evil.”
Leehan leaned back with a smirk, eyes flicking once more toward the corridor you disappeared into. “Call it divine punishment.”
THE EMERGENCY ROOM was oddly quiet for a Monday afternoon, not that Leehan minded. He had just finished working up a 6 year old kid with productive cough and another 7 year old with non-projectile vomiting, both of which were likely to be admitted much to his dismay.
Leehan was trying to remember the last time he’d blinked for more than half a second when his clerk Woonhak appeared beside him, looking a little too cheerful for someone who’s on back to back 12-hour shifts.
“Doctor Kim,” Woonhak said, setting down the IV tray and throwing away his used materials. “I just inserted the IV line for Bed 4.”
Leehan nodded, skimming his orders for the two patients like it’ll magically write itself. “Good. Let’s just wait for the prelim labs for Bed 2, then we’re good.”
He rubbed his temple. His head felt heavy in that dull, persistent way that only consecutive calls could produce. His body was here, but his soul had clocked out somewhere around 3 A.M. yesterday.
Still, he couldn’t help but be faintly impressed by Woonhak. The kid was quick. Confident with lines. Smarter than he had been as a clerk. Probably slept more, too.
Leehan leaned back in his chair, letting his pen roll across the table. For a brief, blissful second, he let his brain idle. Everything else became background noise. The rhythmic beep of monitors that once traumatized him as a clerk and the chatter of nurses calling out meds drowned out every bit of anxiety he held for the entire shift.
Even Woonhak settled on one of the chairs, arms folded, eyes fluttering in an attempt to nap.
That was until Riwoo, one of the ER nurses, called from triage.
“Woonhak, new patient!”
Leehan watched his clerk jerk upright, the light in his eyes dimming as they exchanged glances and sighed in unison.
Woonhak stood up and scurried away to the triage. Minutes later, he came back grinning. Leehan felt his shoulders relax. Not pedia.
“It’s ob-gyne, Doc. Abdominal pain.”
Across the counter, nurse Minju was dialing the ob-gyne resident line. “Good afternoon! This is Minju, ER. May I ask who's the resident on duty today?" She nodded a few times, humming. "Oh, hi Doctor L/N! You have a patient here at the ER. We'll just bring her in. Thank you!"
And that was when Leehan sat up straight yet again.
You were on ER duty. Oh boy.
He wasn’t proud of it. He wasn’t even subtle about it. One second he’d been slouched, borderline horizontal. The next, he was upright, flipping through patient charts as if he suddenly rediscovered his sense of purpose.
When he ushered Woonhak over, his clerk blinked. “Yes Doc?”
Leehan cleared his throat, pretending to check the progress notes. “Let’s... run through the different possible cases for Bed 4 again. Just for review.”
“Uh, sure,” Woonhak said slowly, caught off-guard. “The... the one with vomiting?”
“Mm. Yes. Go ahead.” He nodded, tapping his pen as if in deep thought.
Woonhak blinked, then launched into an explanation of acute gastroenteritis. It was fine, textbook even, except Leehan wasn’t really listening. His brain had split in two: one part nodding along, the other sharply tuned to the sound of the ER doors opening.
Because you were coming.
Ohhh, boy.
“Doctor Kim?”
“Hm?”
“The management, Doc. I said we’re just monitoring for dehydration and waiting for labs?”
“Yes,” Leehan said, a little too quickly. “Correct. Good. Very... good.”
Woonhak gave him a suspicious side-eye that Leehan was awfully familiar with. It was something the clerks only used when they sensed their resident was being weird but weren’t brave enough to ask.
Before Leehan could come up with another fake quiz question to hide behind, the sliding ER doors finally hissed open.
As nonchalantly as he could, he took a glance.
You walked in with your own clerk—Eunchae, according to Woonhak, who quickly said "hi" in excitement—beside you, discussing something about triage flow and abdominal pain. You barely spared a glance at the chaos of the nurses' station, too busy explaining to Eunchae the difference between surgical and gynecologic causes of pain.
Leehan tried not to stare. Really, he did. But it was like his body had developed its own gravitational pull toward you.
Riwoo, who had already ushered the new patient to one of the beds, noticed immediately (because of course he did) and nudged Minju with a smirk. Both of them exchanged a knowing look.
Leehan caught it in his peripheral vision and shot them a warning glare, which only made them grin wider.
You finally glanced their way, offering a polite smile. “Afternoon, everyone.”
Leehan somehow forgot how to speak Korean for a split second. “Uh, afternoon,” he managed, nodding a little too fast.
Then you were already moving on, scanning the board and heading toward your patient.
Leehan turned back to the desk, trying to focus on his charting, but the pen was trembling slightly in his hand.
“Doctor Kim,” Woonhak said under his breath, trying not to laugh. Of course his clerk had also caught on. He wasn’t exactly subtle about anything. “You’re red.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re very red.”
“This is insubordination,” Leehan muttered, flipping a chart just to have something to look at. “You should start writing your notes for the two patients before I make you answer another case.”
Woonhak grinned but wisely shut up.
Across the ER, your voice carried softly as you spoke to the new patient, reminiscent of when he was first paired with you during your medical school clinicals. When his patients’ lab results finally flashed on the monitor, Leehan muttered a tiny thanks into the universe for the distraction.
Unfortunately, it only served him for a short while. After he made another call to his consultant outside, he walked back into the ER to find you and Eunchae discussing at the same table as Woonhak, who looked too engrossed in a discussion unrelated to his current rotation.
Leehan cleared his throat. "Woonhak, come here please."
He tried to keep his attention on his clerk, ignoring your and your clerk's gazes on him. Woonhak quickly excused himself from his conversation, then sauntered over with a grin.
"Yes, Doc?"
"We're admitting both patients. Come on, I'll teach you how to write an order."
Without waiting for a response, he moved around the nurses’ station, taking the open chair beside Minju, who was in the middle of a phone call with admitting.
She looked back and forth between you and Leehan, the corners of her mouth twitching upward in amusement. When she ended the call, confirming the status of Leehan's patients' admission, she dropped her voice into a teasing tone.
“Doctor Kim,” Minju said, grin widening. “I think you should check your vitals. You kinda look feverish.”
Leehan's eye twitched. “Chart, Minju,” he deadpanned. “Go chart something.”
But she just laughed.
He took one last look at his previous seat, now occupied by you as you bent slightly over your patient's chart with a pen tucked behind your ear. Your clerk left to get the latest vitals from your new patient, so Leehan was safe to look at you without prying eyes.
Or so he thought.
Across him, Woonhak was still grinning, the little traitor.
“Doctor Kim,” he whispered. He leaned his elbows on the desk, covering his mouth with his hands as if he's sharing confidential intel. “You’re staring again.”
Leehan wanted the ground to swallow him whole. “I’m not.”
“You are. You were doing that squinty thing.”
“I wasn’t squinting—”
“Doc, you were squinting.”
Before Leehan could deliver a well-deserved scolding, Riwoo called out from the triage again. “Doctor Kim, another patient for pediatrics.”
Another one?!
All signs of teasing vanished from Woonhak, who stood up and sighed at the thought of more possible paperwork. “Doc, I think you should seriously leave the ER. You’re a magnet for trouble.”
“Just interview the patient.”
Leehan watched his clerk jog toward triage. With a resigned exhale, he reached for his phone and dialed the number of another one of his first-year pediatrics colleagues, Anton, who was stationed in the wards.
The line connected quickly.
“Hey, Anton,” Leehan began, as he rubbed his temples, already feeling the beginnings of another migraine. “I’m endorsing two new pedia admits. Both were febrile, one with poor intake, the other initially presenting with respiratory distress, but they're both stable now. I sent the clinical histories in the group chat. Lab results are out, both have neutrophilic predominance on blood count so I asked the consultant which antibiotics to start with and—”
Before he could finish, movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention. You had stood up, chart in hand, approaching the nurses’ desk to where Minju was.
“Minju,” you said politely, offering the patient’s chart. “The new gyne patient’s for admission. Orders are complete, and I’ve already informed her watcher. My clerk Eunchae will update me when the patient's already transported."
Minju accepted the folder with a nod, and you turned briefly toward Leehan, your expression softening into a smile.
“I’ll go ahead,” you murmured.
It was barely audible, but it short-circuited him all the same. Leehan froze, phone still pressed to his ear, and managed only a shy nod in response.
“...Leehan? Hello? Did I lose you?” Anton’s voice broke through the line, faintly exasperated. “You just stopped mid-sentence, man.”
Leehan blinked, realizing only then that he hadn’t said a word in several seconds.
“Right, sorry. Uh, where was I?” he mumbled, dragging a hand over his face as heat crept up his neck.
From the table nearby, Eunchae giggled behind her hand, clearly having witnessed the entire exchange. Leehan wanted nothing more than to fold into himself.
He finished his phone endorsement, turning off his phone and releasing a long and defeated sigh.
That was when Woonhak reappeared beside him, who had bowed to you as you left the ER to presumably continue your rounds or go back to the labor room.
Woonhak looked at Eunchae, and they appeared to have some telepathy thing going that clearly involved him and you, because Woonhak had another shit-eating grin on his face.
“Doctor Kim,” he said, tone dripping with amusement. “I’m starting to think you like her more than you like your patients.”
“That’s an HR violation waiting to happen,” Leehan muttered, rubbing his forehead.
“So is staring.”
Leehan stared at him blankly. “Do you want to spend your next duty counting diapers in Pedia Ward B?”
“...No, sir.”
“Good.”
But despite the threat, Woonhak grinned. “You should still make your move, though. What if she gets stolen by another resident?”
Leehan clicked his pen. “Insubordination," he repeated in a sing-song manner.
“Reality check,” Woonhak countered.
He groaned. “Why did I get assigned the talkative one?”
“Because the quiet clerks are scared of you,” Woonhak said innocently.
Leehan barked a laugh despite himself, shaking his head. “You’re lucky you’re competent.”
“I learned from the best.”
That earned him a faint smile. “Alright, enough of that. Tell me about the new patient.”
As Woonhak launched into his patient endorsement, he tried his best to focus but his thoughts had already drifted elsewhere.
Maybe his clerk was right. He'd wasted the entirety of his medical school life without confessing his true feelings for you, and now, he's just going to let another three years pass without doing anything? What if someone else would step into that space he'd been too cautious to claim? Then, what?
The idea lingered longer than he wanted it to. Yet, he found himself oddly fired up.
He was done just watching from afar.
He was going to make a move. One way or another.
He’d survived worse, after all. Like back-to-back admissions. Or Taesan’s morning scoldings.
Though his step one should really be to stop turning red whenever you say hello.
YOU LOVED YOUR JOB.
Most days, it didn’t even feel like work. Sure, the hours were long, and the sleep deprivation was starting to make you hallucinate coffee cups where they didn’t exist, but you genuinely loved being an ob-gyne resident.
Where others in your batch had gravitated toward the—for lack of better word—“cleaner” fields like internal medicine, radiology, and anesthesiology, you’d found your heart in the constant frenzy of deliveries and the thrill of managing two lives at once. There was something deeply sentimental about it, about being there for people at their most vulnerable and their most joyful.
You’d fallen in love with it during clerkship, the first time you’d assisted in a delivery and held your breath as a baby’s cry filled the air. That sound never left you. It stitched itself into your memory and refused to leave, even after you rotated in other departments.
So when you matched into the residency program of your dreams, you cried in relief. KOZ General Hospital, your top choice. Everything you wanted.
And then, there's the icing on the cake.
Because as fate would have it, there was another reason you found yourself smiling a little too much after the high of being officially accepted into the program and that was a certain first-year pediatric resident named Kim Leehan.
You’d gone to med school together in same batch and same group rotations. He was the quiet one—or at least, that's what you thought at first. He didn't push himself into the spotlight the way their other batchmates did, all eager to impress residents and consultants during clerkship.
Leehan was the type to stand a few steps behind, listening more than speaking, his brows knit in focus as if the world beyond his patient didn’t exist.
But there were rare moments when that calm exterior cracked. When something, or someone, managed to pull him out of his silence. You learned that early on, during your rotation in the public hospital’s pediatric ward, when in the middle of the thick hospital noise, Leehan had found a pocket of light in it.
He’d crouch beside the beds of the children, stethoscope forgotten around his neck, voice soft yet animated as he asked about their favorite toys or showed them how to make balloon animals out of gloves.
His face came alive in those moments. His eyes bright, curved into crescents. His gestures uncharacteristically wide. You remembered thinking that it didn’t seem fair, how someone usually so reserved could suddenly glow like that, as if the world made a little more sense when he smiled.
And when you saw him genuinely laugh for the first time, it completely caught you off guard. From then on, you couldn’t quite look at him the same way.
Now, months later, you saw him in the hallways sometimes. His coat was always slightly wrinkled, hair a little messy, yet he still smiled at you when you cross paths despite the obvious exhaustion. And every single time, your heart did that thing where it folded in on itself.
You were reviewing charts at the OB station when your phone buzzed.
Pedia Clerk Eunchae: Good morning, Doctor L/N! Referral from Pedia at 3A! Teenage patient with abdominal pain, possible gyne problem.
You smiled, already typing back.
You: Good job! I’ll head down in a bit. May I ask who's the pedia resident-in-charge?
Another ping came almost immediately.
Pedia Clerk Eunchae: Dr. Kim Leehan hehe
You blinked. Then exhaled slowly.
Of course it was him.
Of course the universe had decided to make you deal with your crush before lunch.
You were a professional. You could do this. You’d seen uterine ruptures and assisted breech extractions. Surely you could handle one very nice pediatric resident without combusting.
You had made your way up the ramp towards the wards when Eunchae greeted you midway, a knowing grin already on her face. “Doctor L/N, you’re smiling.”
You scoffed. “I’m always smiling.”
“That’s your Dr. Kim smile,” she teased, voice dropping into a whisper.
You raised a brow, trying to look stern, but the corner of your mouth betrayed you. “You’re lucky you’re my favorite clerk.”
Eunchae grinned, triumphant. “I know.”
By the time you reached the wards, you’d forced your expression into your usual calmness. Professional. Resident mode.
You only made it halfway towards the station when you caught sight of him.
Leehan sat on one of the swiveling chairs, chatting with some of the nurses. His laughter carried lightly over usual ward noise. He looked exhausted, of course—he always did—but he still managed to smile like that.
You were never at the receiving end of that smile. It had always been polite. Everything had always been polite, and you wondered if you should let go of the crush you've been harboring for four years because really, why would he ever smile at you like that?
A soft ache began to bloom in your chest, yet you shoved it away. You had a job to do.
You approached the counter, your clerk trailing behind you. As soon as you came into his line of sight, his posture changed completely. He always did this when you were around, and you wondered if it meant something. But deep down, whether good or bad, you were too scared to find out.
“Doctor L/N,” he greeted, voice a touch too formal.
You nodded, forcing yourself to focus. “Hello, Doctor Kim. You’re the resident-in-charge for this patient?”
“Yes,” he said quickly. “Sixteen-year-old, right lower quadrant pain, low-grade fever, some discharge. We were thinking pelvic inflammatory disease versus appendicitis, but her labs lean more gynecologic. Ultrasound pending.”
You tried to keep your eyes on the chart, not on him. Not on the faint shadow under his eyes or the way his lashes curled when he blinked. He smelled faintly of something woody and clean, like cedar and soap and it made your pulse skip a beat.
Professional. Stay professional.
You cleared your throat. “Good work catching this early. I’ll take it from here, thank you.”
He nodded. “Of course.”
You glanced once more at the notes. You hesitated for a moment, lingering by the desk as you fiddled with the edge of the chart. There wasn’t anything left to say but part of you didn’t want the conversation to end just yet.
Should you ask about the complete history of the patient? But then, you'll do your own interview anyway. Would it be weird if you asked why they considered those differentials? Well, yes, because you already knew why and it would only make you look like someone who didn't understand cardinal manifestations.
Resigned, you settled with a tiny smile, and turned to leave.
“I can go with you?” he blurted out before you could take a step.
You blinked, half-turning toward him. His expression was earnest, maybe even hopeful.
For a split second, your mind scrambled for meaning. Did he just say that because he was being polite or did he actually want to? The thought made your heart skip traitorously. You suddenly felt the urge to giggle but you swallowed it back before it could escape.
“I’m good, no worries!” you said lightly, managing your smile. “Thank you, Doctor Kim.”
And before you could betray how much that look in his eyes was doing to you, you turned and left.
You didn’t see the way his shoulders dropped the second your back was turned.
At your side, Eunchae caught up with you as you sped-walked towards your referral's room, smirking. “I think you just broke Doctor Kim’s heart.”
You nearly tripped over your own feet at that. Maybe she was exaggerating, but the image of Leehan's face when he offered to go with you flashed in your mind again. You told yourself not to overthink it, that it didn’t mean anything, but that tiny, dangerous hope refused to fade.
You shot her a look. “One more from you and I’m letting you assist me every delivery.”
Eunchae’s grin only widened. “You’re threatening me with a good time, Doc.”
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you anyway.
Maybe you shouldn't give up on that crush just yet.
"CUTTING," your senior said, and you reached for the retractor, your gloved hands stable.
You were assisting a cesarean section that afternoon with your senior and Eunchae, and despite the lack of lunch and the ache in your feet, you were in your element.
Everything was routine until you glanced toward the warmer and did a double take.
Leehan was standing there in his scrubs, checking equipment, his mask pulled up to cover the lower half of his face. His clerk stood beside him—Woonhak, who joyfully introduced himself to you that one afternoon in the ER—already carrying the sterile linen to catch the baby.
What was he doing here?
You knew his schedule by heart, not that you’d ever admit it aloud. His pedia ward rotation was supposed to run until the end of the week, and you’d been quietly counting down the days until he moved to the NICU, where your paths would finally cross again.
You expected Taesan, the usual resident on rotation for deliveries, but instead, Leehan stood in his fellow pediatrics resident's place. And seeing him now, days earlier than you expected, it felt like fate had decided to play a little joke on you once more.
His hair was slightly mussed under his cap, eyes crinkling as he caught you looking.
Then, without warning and completely out of character, he winked at you.
He winked at you.
Your brain stuttered, the world narrowing down to that split-second flicker of movement. For a moment, you forgot where you were.
It didn’t make sense. Leehan wasn’t the type to flirt, let alone wink across an operating table. Yet, it happened. And you didn't miss the unmistakable curve of amusement in his eyes.
“Doctor L/N,” your senior’s voice snapped you back. “You spacing out? Did you eat lunch?”
“Not yet,” you said quickly, hoping your flushed ears weren’t visible behind your mask. Eunchae was biting back a grin beside you, and you’d bet anything she’d seen it too.
The baby’s first cry sliced through the air. Relief, always relief. You helped lift the newborn, checked the cord while Eunchae helped dry the baby and turned toward the warmer.
Leehan was already waiting with his towel and stethoscope. The amusement in his crinkled eyes never left. You passed the baby to him, careful not to let your gloved fingers brush his.
But of course, they did.
His eyebrow lifted in amusement and you shot him a warning glare that only made his eyes curve further.
You were too distracted to notice how both clerks saw the entire thing.
By the time you were back in the labor room, peeling off your gloves and updating the chart, Eunchae had disappeared somewhere. A few minutes later, a hesitant knock came from the doorway.
“Doctor L/N?”
You looked up to see Woonhak holding a chart. You watched in mild amusement as he looked around before walking into the labor room with all the confidence of a pediatrics clerk.
"I'm here to report the anthropometric measurements for Baby Girl Jung."
"Alright."
You jotted down the numbers for the baby's height, weight, and the like as Woonhak recited them. When he finished, you thanked him for his help and was about to ask if he saw Eunchae when he suddenly tucked the clipboard behind his back.
“By the way, Doctor L/N, Doctor Kim is asking if you’d be available for lunch,” he said innocently. “To discuss the referred pedia case.”
You narrowed your eyes, suspicion flickering immediately. The tone and the barely contained grin tugging at the corner of his mouth was all too familiar.
It wouldn’t be the first time your clerks tried to play matchmaker. Eunchae had been far too gleeful lately whenever Leehan’s name came up, and now Woonhak was acting like he’d been coached. You had a feeling they were conspiring, and for a brief second, you couldn’t decide whether to be exasperated or amused.
You arched an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Why couldn’t he tell me that himself?”
Woonhak shrugged, eyes too wide, too fake. “He’s… shy?”
You snorted. “Right. Tell him I’ll think about it.”
Meanwhile, a few doors down from the labor room, Leehan was leaning against the NICU counter in the middle of writing a doctor's order. Confusion was plastered on his face as Eunchae marched up to him with a clipboard and too much enthusiasm.
“Hi, Doctor Kim!” she chirped. “Doctor L/N would like to discuss the gyne case over lunch.”
He blinked, unsure if he’d heard that right. For a moment, he just stood there, pen hovering midair as his brain tried to process the words.
Lunch? With you? Initiated by you?
That didn’t sound right, even if you wanted to 'discuss the gyne case.' You're the type to discuss in the wards, not over lunch.
It had to be a mistake.
Or maybe a prank.
God, was this a prank?
“Really?”
“Yup! She said she’ll see you by the labor room entrance.” Eunchae waved and disappeared before he could even question it.
Leehan stared at his doctor's orders, still in disbelief.
He’d spent the entire morning convincing himself that his impulsive decision to switch shifts with Taesan had been purely logistical, not because he wanted to see you again sooner.
But then he’d gone and winked at you in an operating room, of all places. In front of your senior, your clerk, and an entire team. He definitely did not think it through.
Still, if somehow this lunch thing was real, maybe the universe was cutting him some slack. Or maybe it was setting him up for a new kind of embarrassment. He honestly couldn’t tell anymore.
Which was how, twenty minutes later, Leehan found himself standing outside the labor room, still not entirely sure if he’d walked into a setup or a miracle.
He’d spent the entire time, from changing out of his scrubs and into his work clothes, rehearsing possible conversation starters.
But when the doors swung open and you stepped out, hair flowing freely as if it hadn't been confined behind an itchy scrub cap and eyes bright even after hours on duty, every practiced line in his head vanished.
“Let’s go?” he managed, scratching the back of his neck.
A faint smile tugged at your lips. “I’m surprised you had to ask your clerk to tell me to meet up.”
His brows drew together. “Wait, didn’t you ask me to meet up for the case?”
Your smile didn't cease and you looked at him expectantly, as if waiting for something to click. Slowly, realization dawned into him, and he let out a soft laugh.
“Guess we were both fooled by our clerks,” he said. “I’m giving that little runt Woonhak an extension.”
You stared at him, a little bit in awe about something. Leehan felt self-conscious for a second, until you mirrored his laugh.
“Careful, Doctor Kim. They might actually enjoy that.”
"Leehan," he murmured. "Just Leehan is fine. Like when we were still classmates."
Your smile had never been so gorgeous in that moment. "Alright, Leehan. Lunch it is, then. Since our clerks apparently conspired for academic collaboration.”
“Right,” he replied, falling into step beside you as you started down the hall. “Strictly for the case.”
“Of course,” you said, eyes fixed ahead but Leehan could see the faint color blooming on your cheeks, and he couldn’t stop smiling.
Because for once, the quiet between you wasn’t awkward. And maybe, it was the start of something neither of you would need your clerks’ help to arrange again.
BY THE TIME Woonhak started his last week in OB-Gyne, he’d learned two things about KOZ General Hospital: one, the elevators would never work when you needed them most; and two, Doctor Kim Leehan and Doctor L/N Y/N had no idea how to hide their affection from each other even in the most professional setting.
Not that he minded. After all, Woonhak had been the mastermind behind the lunch date plan, no matter how much his partner-in-crime claimed otherwise.
He stood outside the OB-Gyne nurses' station with Eunchae, who was now a proud pedia clerk. Both of them were ready to endorse the incoming batch of fresh-faced clerks, all of whom looked nervous as hell.
“Okay,” Woonhak said, straightening. “Rule number one: Never skip breakfast. Rule number two: If you ever get a referral from Pedia, double-check the resident’s name before you deliver it. Trust me.”
Eunchae snorted beside him. “Yeah, especially if it’s Doctor Kim. You’ll end up third-wheeling without even knowing it.”
The new clerks blinked, confused, but Woonhak just smiled and pushed open the door to the nurses' station.
He could never get tired of seeing his former pediatrics resident and his current ob-gyne resident.
Doctor Kim was leaning casually against the counter, one hand braced near Doctor L/N’s chair as they discussed, presumably about another case.
You were both in scrubs and resident coats—yours less wrinkled than Doctor Kim's—both clearly exhausted, yet grinning in that way people do when the world around them has quietly disappeared.
“So you’re saying your patient’s ultrasound results came in normal?” you were asking, flipping through the pages.
“Normal,” Leehan confirmed. “Which means you owe me coffee.”
“On what grounds?”
“On the grounds that I called it.”
“Kim Leehan, you call everything.”
He opened his mouth to retort, but the sound of the door opening made both of you turn.
“Doctor Kim, Doctor L/N,” Woonhak greeted, trying not to smile too wide. “Sorry to interrupt. We’re here to endorse the new clerks.”
“Ah, perfect timing,” you said warmly, straightening up as Leehan stepped aside.
Eunchae gestured to the two newbies beside her. “This is the new batch. They’ll be rotating under us for OB-Gyne and Pedia respectively starting tomorrow.”
Leehan turned, his easy smile in place again. “Welcome to clerkship. Try not to cry too much in your first week.”
“Doctor Kim,” you said dryly, “please don’t scare them on day one.”
“I’m setting expectations.”
You rolled your eyes. “You’ll be fine,” you reassured the clerks. “Just listen to your residents and nurses. Especially Nurse Jaehyun, he knows everything.”
Jaehyun, from behind the counter, gave a peace sign.
Leehan glanced at Woonhak. “So, be honest. Were you a better clerk under Doctor L/N than with me?”
You shot Woonhak a mock glare, but he only grinned, playing along. “Doctor L/N was an excellent preceptor. She taught me how to think, not just memorize. This is why she’s my favorite resident of all time.”
Eunchae clapped her hands in agreement. “Seconded. No offense, Doctor Kim.”
“None taken,” Leehan said, though his chuckle was tinged with mock offense. “At least she’s your favorite for the academic reasons.”
You smirked. “That sounded like jealousy, Doctor Kim.”
“Maybe it is,” he replied lightly, and Woonhak was pretty sure the new clerks weren’t breathing.
“Alright, that’s our cue to leave,” Eunchae said quickly, ushering the newbies toward the hallway before the flirting became part of the formal endorsement.
When they were finally outside, one of the new clerks whispered, “Are they… like… together?”
Woonhak smirked as the doors swung shut behind them.
“Together? Oh, they’re definitely together,” he said, lowering his voice. “They’ve been doing this whole slow-burn, coworkers-to-lovers thing since the start of our clerkship days. It was only a matter of time.”
“You should’ve seen them back then." Eunchae laughed. "Always pretending it was just about case discussions. Now look at them, still flirting in front of patients and clerks like it’s part of the hospital protocol.”
“They’re basically the departments' power couple at this point. Brains, composure, and chemistry? Unfair combination.”
“Yeah,” Eunchae agreed, smiling as she peeked through the narrow window in the door. Inside, you were still standing close to Leehan, laughing at something he’d just said. “Kinda makes you believe in timing, doesn’t it?”
“Timing... and maybe a little clerical intervention.”
Eunchae laughed again, shaking her head as they started down the hall. “Guess we did good, huh?”
“Yeah,” Woonhak said, glancing back one last time. “We really did."
TAGLIST. ノ@taestulipss @lovehakie @ilysungho @ivxae @amnellsia @wensurr @wnouzi @luckiihan @silvervalley101 @mochamvgz @parkpenghoonnn @nemoihan @kazukazukiiii @gentiliana @en-dream @omlhyck (pls send an ask to be added or removed!)
completely random thought but i constantly have this urge to shower leehan with kisses all over his face every time i see him do anything like my cuteness aggression is lowkey harrowing i love him so much what the actual fuck
writer culture is shutting the hell up when the fic you read is bad and just closing the tab and looking for another one cause you know that the writer is not getting paid fot that shi
( 연서 ) ノ this is an excuse to write about leehan breaking out of character and jaehyun catching his breath and laughing during the behind the scenes shoot of their concept photo shoot. enjoy! reblogs are appreciated!
SUNGHO (성호)
SUNGHO FIXED HIS HAIR in front of the mirror for what felt like the hundredth time, the worried look on his face refusing to fade. You stood nearby with a makeup brush in hand, watching him in quiet amusement as he turned to you once again.
“Are you sure it looks—”
You didn’t let him finish the question. He had asked this far too many times before, even after you painstakingly helped dye his hair and gave him a whole lecture on how to make the color last.
“Yes, it looks good. Yes, you look absolutely gorgeous. Yes, everyone’s going to fall in love with you the second they see you. Should I go on?”
He covered his mouth, a shy laugh already bubbling up. The tips of his ears reddened as he mumbled, “N-No, it’s okay.”
Convinced you still hadn’t made your point, you took him by the wrist and dragged him toward an open window. He stumbled after you, confusion etched on his face. Standing against the wall, he tipped his head slightly, one hand coming up to shield his eyes from the bright afternoon sun.
“What are we—"
“Drop your hand, love,” you said softly.
He did as you told, lowering his hand. You lifted your phone and started recording, completely mesmerized by how his hair glimmered under the sunlight. Each strand caught the light, reflecting spun gold.
When you showed him the video, your voice came out barely above a whisper. “This is my view of you every time I wake up with you beside me.”
The blush on his cheeks deepened, and it didn’t fade even as another staff member called him over for his bathtub shoot. You followed behind, grinning at how flustered he still looked. That grin, however, melted into awe when he stepped into the tub and began to film, his clothes quickly soaking through with cold water.
Between takes, you rushed in to fix his hair, brushing stray strands back into place and adjusting the wet look until it was perfect. Despite the chill, he kept going, determined to finish the shoot. When he finally did, he trailed after you to the other room, wrapped in a towel and dripping water across the floor.
He sat down on the chair, still shivering, and you took the opportunity to dry his hair for him. When his tremors wouldn’t stop, you left the towel around his neck and gently gathered his arms, guiding them to wrap around your waist.
“I’m in wet clothes!” he protested weakly, trying to resist.
You only pulled him closer, smiling as you felt him slowly relax against you. A relieved sigh left his lips as he murmured a soft “thank you” into your stomach.
“Anytime."
RIWOO (리우)
RIWOO SAT IN FRONT of you on a swiveling chair as you sprayed hairspray over his hair, fixing a few strands into a perfectly “messy” look. His hands were clasped together between his legs, partly out of guilt since you’d just scolded him for tugging on your pants earlier in an attempt to pull you closer.
You leaned back, finally satisfied with how his hair turned out. Your eyes lingered on him longer than you intended, fixating on the way his glasses perched neatly on his nose. The thought slipped out before you could stop it.
“You look so good with glasses on.”
That earned you a dazzling grin. “I should wear them more often.”
“You’ll be the death of me if you do.”
He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose like an anime protagonist, and you had to bite back a laugh. Then, inspiration struck.
“Give me a second,” you said, rummaging through your makeup box. You fished around until you found a roll of white tape. Pulling out a long strip, you gently held Riwoo’s face still, pretending not to notice how his eyes followed your every move, searching for yours.
“What are you doing?” he murmured.
“Adding details.”
With one hand steady on his chin, you carefully placed the tape along one side of his glasses, tying it around to create the illusion of a broken glasses arm.
“There we go! Perfect.”
Riwoo reached for the nearby mirror, inspecting your handiwork. He nodded, clearly impressed. “Smart.”
Just then, a crew member called his name. He stood up, but not before leaning down to pinch your cheek playfully. His eyes darted around, scanning for cameras. When he was sure none were pointed his way, he swooped in and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.
You went scarlet, smacking his arm in embarrassment.
“Are you watching me?” he asked, hopeful.
“That goes without saying.”
“Good.” He grinned again, adjusting his gray hoodie with intentional flair. “Because I’m ready to shock you in the best way possible.”
You snorted at the dad joke, but you weren't going to let him be the only one. “Too late. I already short-circuited the moment you walked in.”
Riwoo’s eyes sparkled as he laughed, letting the crew member drag him away.
JAEHYUN (재현)
YOU STOOD UNDER the shade, a fan in one hand and a towel tucked under your arm. Your eyes followed Jaehyun during his shoot as he sprinted toward a truck and leaped in front of it like an action star.
After several takes, you finally approached him. A crew member handed him a bottle of water, and he took a few deep gulps before pausing when you offered him the towel.
“Dry me off?” he asked innocently, his chest still rising and falling as he caught his breath.
You rolled your eyes but obliged anyway, patting the towel from the base of his neck up toward the back of his head. He kept drinking, throat bobbing with every swallow, and you tried your best not to stare at his Adam’s apple.
“…look good?”
“Sorry?” You blinked, snapping back to reality.
Unfortunately, Jaehyun caught the faint flush on your face. He smirked, clearly amused. “I said, ‘Do my scenes look good?’”
“They always look good.”
He chuckled, reaching out to playfully ruffle your hair with his gloved hand. “Only because you’re watching me.”
You rolled your eyes again, though the corner of your mouth betrayed you with a small smile. “Be careful, though. Wouldn’t want you to break something.”
“I’d have you to nurse me back to health,” he teased.
You swatted his arm lightly with the towel. “It’s your comeback! Don’t even joke about that!”
He laughed between your playful hits, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. When the five-minute break ended, you retreated back under the shade as Jaehyun was ushered toward his next scene.
The cameras started rolling once more. Jaehyun took off running, then leaped into the back of the truck effortlessly. After a few more takes, he landed in the trunk bed one last time, laughter spilling out of him despite the exhaustion.
When he caught your gaze from across the set, chest still heaving, he sent you a wink. And right then, you knew this shoot was going to be a very long and very challenging day for you.
TAESAN (태산)
YOU STOOD BESIDE Taesan as he monitored his first few shoots, lips pursed in concentration. He leaned closer, his voice low near your ear but his eyes still fixed on the screen. “Do you think I’d look better if you added longer strands to my hair?”
You blinked. “Extensions?”
He nodded, gesturing to a few areas around his head.
You studied his freshly dyed black hair, picturing how it would look with the changes he described, and nodded. “Give me a few minutes.”
After making the necessary adjustments and retouching his makeup, you stepped back to assess his new look. You barely had time to admire your handiwork before he was ushered away to continue filming.
When he finally had some downtime between takes, you got the chance to really take him in as he opened a can of pineapple for the next scene. The longer strands were a smart move as they framed his face perfectly. He looked like a young actor straight out of a 90s youth film.
“You’re staring,” he murmured, amusement flickering in his tone as he glanced at you from beneath his lashes.
You shrugged, not bothering to deny it. “You’re pretty.”
It was a good thing he hadn’t taken a bite of pineapple yet, or it would’ve gone straight down the wrong way. He coughed in surprise, clearly not used to hearing compliments from you.
With a teasing grin, you tapped the hand holding his fork, silently asking for a piece. He rolled his eyes but obliged, feeding you a chunk of pineapple. Just as he was about to wipe a bit of juice from your lower lip, that familiar mischievous glint lit up his eyes.
After a quick glance around to make sure no one was looking, he leaned in and pecked your lips.
You jerked back in surprise, your ears burning. “Why’d you do that?!”
Taesan ran his thumb across his bottom lip, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Sweet.”
You smacked his shoulder just as the director called him for the next scene.
LEEHAN (이한)
"YOU GENUINELY LOOK terrifying when you stare like that,” you said, adding the final touches to Leehan’s eye makeup.
He looked up at you, eyes crinkling with amusement. “Really?”
“Well, not anymore.”
“Good. I wouldn’t want to scare you off.”
You laughed softly, drawing an even fonder smile from him.
“I heard you insisted on wearing this turtleneck,” you continued, gently tugging at the collar of his black top to smooth it out. Leehan only grinned unapologetically.
“Didn’t you say you like it when I’m in turtlenecks?”
You froze for half a second before raising an eyebrow. “So this is for me?”
“Everything is for you.”
Your breath hitched slightly, but before you could say anything back, another staff member came over and ushered him toward his set consisting of a white room with nothing but a table and camera equipment.
You lingered behind the monitor as Leehan took his position. The director gave him simple instructions: stare into the camera, emotionless. He tipped his head just so, his gaze eerie and unblinking, creating a chilly atmosphere.
But when his eyes found you across the room and you offered him a tiny smile, something in his expression softened instantly. The corner of his lips lifted, and then, realizing what he’d done, he ducked his head and hid his face against the table in embarrassment.
The crew burst into laughter, teasing him mercilessly. “We can’t film if you’re here!” the director joked to you. “He’s easily distracted!”
You laughed along at first, but when someone seriously suggested you wait outside, you felt a little guilty. You began to step away until Leehan suddenly sat up straight.
“I’ll do it properly next time,” he said quickly, glancing at the cameramen before turning his gaze back to you. His voice softened.
“Please stay.”
You hesitated, then smiled. “Okay.”
You stayed for the rest of the shoot. Eventually, the staff realized that the best takes were the ones where you stood in his line of sight. From then on, whenever they needed that haunting yet tender stare, they positioned you just behind the camera.
By the time the shoot wrapped up, you were blushing furiously from all the teasing, and Leehan’s smile hadn’t faded once. If anything, it grew brighter every time he caught you trying and failing to look away.
WOONHAK (운학)
WOONHAK WAS SCRIBBLING in his notebook when you returned, makeup box in hand after fetching it from the other room. The set was lively but somehow, he always seemed to know when you were near.
Sure enough, the second you stepped behind the camera filming him, his pen froze mid-word. He turned around, that boyish grin already spreading across his face. Then he lifted his notebook to reveal the words Hey cutie scrawled messily.
You couldn’t help the warmth that crept up your neck, ready to tease him back, when he suddenly raised a finger. “Wait! I just thought of something funny.”
You watched him hunch over the page again, his shoulders shaking as he scribbled furiously. The cameraman, clearly amused, leaned in to catch a close-up. You rolled your eyes and turned to set up your makeup station, deciding to let him have his moment.
When you looked back, he proudly held up the notebook again, only this time, Hey cutie had been crossed out and replaced with the word Dummy.
He grinned at you expectantly, waiting for your reaction.
Your eye twitched. Without saying a word, you turned your back on him.
“Hey!” came his panicked voice.
You loudly addressed one of the nearby staff, making sure your voice carried. “I’m gonna ask Taesan’s makeup artist to switch with me.”
It worked instantly. You’d barely slipped one brush into the box before strong arms wrapped around your waist, stopping you in your tracks.
“Sorry,” he mumbled guiltily into your shoulder. You didn’t have to see him to know he was pouting.
You leaned your head back slightly. “Sorry for?”
“Calling you a dummy,” he said, now sheepish.
You hummed, pulling something from your pocket. Untangling yourself just long enough to turn around, you wrapped your arms around him again and patted his back. “It’s okay. I know you’re cranky in the morning.”
He muttered something about not being a morning person, which made you snicker.
Later, when filming resumed, you had to bite your lip to hold back a laugh. The cameraman zoomed in on the sticky note you’d secretly placed on Woonhak’s back, one that read Dummy in big, block letters.
The cameraman caught your eye and shot you a discreet thumbs-up. You grinned, utterly unrepentant.
TAGLIST. ノ@taestulipss @lovehakie @ilysungho @ivxae @amnellsia @wensurr @wnouzi @luckiihan @silvervalley101 @mochamvgz @parkpenghoonnn @nemoihan @kazukazukiiii @gentiliana @en-dream @omlhyck @ruuroom @beomtomie @leehanaholic (pls send an ask to be added or removed!)
so i've deleted my smau for now since i can't see myself updating it any time soon. i still have the storyboard and will probably rework it in the future! thanks guys 💞
levy i love you so much i just wanted to say that, i adore u and want to hold ur face and kiss it and watch u sleep but not in a creepy, more like a “you deserve the rest and are working so hard”, and i wanna watch u write you’re highkey the goat
- kati @ilysungho 💗
hi kati dearest you already know how i reacted when i first saw this ask! you're such a sweet person and i'm so happy to have met you, i adore you so much! like the earth's diameter multiplied by jupiter's diameter multiplied by 378468393 like that much. you're always welcome to hold and kiss my face and watch me sleep edward and bella style (but only if you let me do it vice versa! 🫵). i want you to take care of yourself always, okay? because you're very important not just to me and ttk but to all the friends you've made on this site and beyond. i got your back always 💗
( 연서 ) ノ this is an excuse to write about leehan breaking out of character and jaehyun catching his breath and laughing during the behind the scenes shoot of their concept photo shoot. enjoy! reblogs are appreciated!
SUNGHO (성호)
SUNGHO FIXED HIS HAIR in front of the mirror for what felt like the hundredth time, the worried look on his face refusing to fade. You stood nearby with a makeup brush in hand, watching him in quiet amusement as he turned to you once again.
“Are you sure it looks—”
You didn’t let him finish the question. He had asked this far too many times before, even after you painstakingly helped dye his hair and gave him a whole lecture on how to make the color last.
“Yes, it looks good. Yes, you look absolutely gorgeous. Yes, everyone’s going to fall in love with you the second they see you. Should I go on?”
He covered his mouth, a shy laugh already bubbling up. The tips of his ears reddened as he mumbled, “N-No, it’s okay.”
Convinced you still hadn’t made your point, you took him by the wrist and dragged him toward an open window. He stumbled after you, confusion etched on his face. Standing against the wall, he tipped his head slightly, one hand coming up to shield his eyes from the bright afternoon sun.
“What are we—"
“Drop your hand, love,” you said softly.
He did as you told, lowering his hand. You lifted your phone and started recording, completely mesmerized by how his hair glimmered under the sunlight. Each strand caught the light, reflecting spun gold.
When you showed him the video, your voice came out barely above a whisper. “This is my view of you every time I wake up with you beside me.”
The blush on his cheeks deepened, and it didn’t fade even as another staff member called him over for his bathtub shoot. You followed behind, grinning at how flustered he still looked. That grin, however, melted into awe when he stepped into the tub and began to film, his clothes quickly soaking through with cold water.
Between takes, you rushed in to fix his hair, brushing stray strands back into place and adjusting the wet look until it was perfect. Despite the chill, he kept going, determined to finish the shoot. When he finally did, he trailed after you to the other room, wrapped in a towel and dripping water across the floor.
He sat down on the chair, still shivering, and you took the opportunity to dry his hair for him. When his tremors wouldn’t stop, you left the towel around his neck and gently gathered his arms, guiding them to wrap around your waist.
“I’m in wet clothes!” he protested weakly, trying to resist.
You only pulled him closer, smiling as you felt him slowly relax against you. A relieved sigh left his lips as he murmured a soft “thank you” into your stomach.
“Anytime."
RIWOO (리우)
RIWOO SAT IN FRONT of you on a swiveling chair as you sprayed hairspray over his hair, fixing a few strands into a perfectly “messy” look. His hands were clasped together between his legs, partly out of guilt since you’d just scolded him for tugging on your pants earlier in an attempt to pull you closer.
You leaned back, finally satisfied with how his hair turned out. Your eyes lingered on him longer than you intended, fixating on the way his glasses perched neatly on his nose. The thought slipped out before you could stop it.
“You look so good with glasses on.”
That earned you a dazzling grin. “I should wear them more often.”
“You’ll be the death of me if you do.”
He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose like an anime protagonist, and you had to bite back a laugh. Then, inspiration struck.
“Give me a second,” you said, rummaging through your makeup box. You fished around until you found a roll of white tape. Pulling out a long strip, you gently held Riwoo’s face still, pretending not to notice how his eyes followed your every move, searching for yours.
“What are you doing?” he murmured.
“Adding details.”
With one hand steady on his chin, you carefully placed the tape along one side of his glasses, tying it around to create the illusion of a broken glasses arm.
“There we go! Perfect.”
Riwoo reached for the nearby mirror, inspecting your handiwork. He nodded, clearly impressed. “Smart.”
Just then, a crew member called his name. He stood up, but not before leaning down to pinch your cheek playfully. His eyes darted around, scanning for cameras. When he was sure none were pointed his way, he swooped in and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.
You went scarlet, smacking his arm in embarrassment.
“Are you watching me?” he asked, hopeful.
“That goes without saying.”
“Good.” He grinned again, adjusting his gray hoodie with intentional flair. “Because I’m ready to shock you in the best way possible.”
You snorted at the dad joke, but you weren't going to let him be the only one. “Too late. I already short-circuited the moment you walked in.”
Riwoo’s eyes sparkled as he laughed, letting the crew member drag him away.
JAEHYUN (재현)
YOU STOOD UNDER the shade, a fan in one hand and a towel tucked under your arm. Your eyes followed Jaehyun during his shoot as he sprinted toward a truck and leaped in front of it like an action star.
After several takes, you finally approached him. A crew member handed him a bottle of water, and he took a few deep gulps before pausing when you offered him the towel.
“Dry me off?” he asked innocently, his chest still rising and falling as he caught his breath.
You rolled your eyes but obliged anyway, patting the towel from the base of his neck up toward the back of his head. He kept drinking, throat bobbing with every swallow, and you tried your best not to stare at his Adam’s apple.
“…look good?”
“Sorry?” You blinked, snapping back to reality.
Unfortunately, Jaehyun caught the faint flush on your face. He smirked, clearly amused. “I said, ‘Do my scenes look good?’”
“They always look good.”
He chuckled, reaching out to playfully ruffle your hair with his gloved hand. “Only because you’re watching me.”
You rolled your eyes again, though the corner of your mouth betrayed you with a small smile. “Be careful, though. Wouldn’t want you to break something.”
“I’d have you to nurse me back to health,” he teased.
You swatted his arm lightly with the towel. “It’s your comeback! Don’t even joke about that!”
He laughed between your playful hits, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. When the five-minute break ended, you retreated back under the shade as Jaehyun was ushered toward his next scene.
The cameras started rolling once more. Jaehyun took off running, then leaped into the back of the truck effortlessly. After a few more takes, he landed in the trunk bed one last time, laughter spilling out of him despite the exhaustion.
When he caught your gaze from across the set, chest still heaving, he sent you a wink. And right then, you knew this shoot was going to be a very long and very challenging day for you.
TAESAN (태산)
YOU STOOD BESIDE Taesan as he monitored his first few shoots, lips pursed in concentration. He leaned closer, his voice low near your ear but his eyes still fixed on the screen. “Do you think I’d look better if you added longer strands to my hair?”
You blinked. “Extensions?”
He nodded, gesturing to a few areas around his head.
You studied his freshly dyed black hair, picturing how it would look with the changes he described, and nodded. “Give me a few minutes.”
After making the necessary adjustments and retouching his makeup, you stepped back to assess his new look. You barely had time to admire your handiwork before he was ushered away to continue filming.
When he finally had some downtime between takes, you got the chance to really take him in as he opened a can of pineapple for the next scene. The longer strands were a smart move as they framed his face perfectly. He looked like a young actor straight out of a 90s youth film.
“You’re staring,” he murmured, amusement flickering in his tone as he glanced at you from beneath his lashes.
You shrugged, not bothering to deny it. “You’re pretty.”
It was a good thing he hadn’t taken a bite of pineapple yet, or it would’ve gone straight down the wrong way. He coughed in surprise, clearly not used to hearing compliments from you.
With a teasing grin, you tapped the hand holding his fork, silently asking for a piece. He rolled his eyes but obliged, feeding you a chunk of pineapple. Just as he was about to wipe a bit of juice from your lower lip, that familiar mischievous glint lit up his eyes.
After a quick glance around to make sure no one was looking, he leaned in and pecked your lips.
You jerked back in surprise, your ears burning. “Why’d you do that?!”
Taesan ran his thumb across his bottom lip, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Sweet.”
You smacked his shoulder just as the director called him for the next scene.
LEEHAN (이한)
"YOU GENUINELY LOOK terrifying when you stare like that,” you said, adding the final touches to Leehan’s eye makeup.
He looked up at you, eyes crinkling with amusement. “Really?”
“Well, not anymore.”
“Good. I wouldn’t want to scare you off.”
You laughed softly, drawing an even fonder smile from him.
“I heard you insisted on wearing this turtleneck,” you continued, gently tugging at the collar of his black top to smooth it out. Leehan only grinned unapologetically.
“Didn’t you say you like it when I’m in turtlenecks?”
You froze for half a second before raising an eyebrow. “So this is for me?”
“Everything is for you.”
Your breath hitched slightly, but before you could say anything back, another staff member came over and ushered him toward his set consisting of a white room with nothing but a table and camera equipment.
You lingered behind the monitor as Leehan took his position. The director gave him simple instructions: stare into the camera, emotionless. He tipped his head just so, his gaze eerie and unblinking, creating a chilly atmosphere.
But when his eyes found you across the room and you offered him a tiny smile, something in his expression softened instantly. The corner of his lips lifted, and then, realizing what he’d done, he ducked his head and hid his face against the table in embarrassment.
The crew burst into laughter, teasing him mercilessly. “We can’t film if you’re here!” the director joked to you. “He’s easily distracted!”
You laughed along at first, but when someone seriously suggested you wait outside, you felt a little guilty. You began to step away until Leehan suddenly sat up straight.
“I’ll do it properly next time,” he said quickly, glancing at the cameramen before turning his gaze back to you. His voice softened.
“Please stay.”
You hesitated, then smiled. “Okay.”
You stayed for the rest of the shoot. Eventually, the staff realized that the best takes were the ones where you stood in his line of sight. From then on, whenever they needed that haunting yet tender stare, they positioned you just behind the camera.
By the time the shoot wrapped up, you were blushing furiously from all the teasing, and Leehan’s smile hadn’t faded once. If anything, it grew brighter every time he caught you trying and failing to look away.
WOONHAK (운학)
WOONHAK WAS SCRIBBLING in his notebook when you returned, makeup box in hand after fetching it from the other room. The set was lively but somehow, he always seemed to know when you were near.
Sure enough, the second you stepped behind the camera filming him, his pen froze mid-word. He turned around, that boyish grin already spreading across his face. Then he lifted his notebook to reveal the words Hey cutie scrawled messily.
You couldn’t help the warmth that crept up your neck, ready to tease him back, when he suddenly raised a finger. “Wait! I just thought of something funny.”
You watched him hunch over the page again, his shoulders shaking as he scribbled furiously. The cameraman, clearly amused, leaned in to catch a close-up. You rolled your eyes and turned to set up your makeup station, deciding to let him have his moment.
When you looked back, he proudly held up the notebook again, only this time, Hey cutie had been crossed out and replaced with the word Dummy.
He grinned at you expectantly, waiting for your reaction.
Your eye twitched. Without saying a word, you turned your back on him.
“Hey!” came his panicked voice.
You loudly addressed one of the nearby staff, making sure your voice carried. “I’m gonna ask Taesan’s makeup artist to switch with me.”
It worked instantly. You’d barely slipped one brush into the box before strong arms wrapped around your waist, stopping you in your tracks.
“Sorry,” he mumbled guiltily into your shoulder. You didn’t have to see him to know he was pouting.
You leaned your head back slightly. “Sorry for?”
“Calling you a dummy,” he said, now sheepish.
You hummed, pulling something from your pocket. Untangling yourself just long enough to turn around, you wrapped your arms around him again and patted his back. “It’s okay. I know you’re cranky in the morning.”
He muttered something about not being a morning person, which made you snicker.
Later, when filming resumed, you had to bite your lip to hold back a laugh. The cameraman zoomed in on the sticky note you’d secretly placed on Woonhak’s back, one that read Dummy in big, block letters.
The cameraman caught your eye and shot you a discreet thumbs-up. You grinned, utterly unrepentant.
TAGLIST. ノ@taestulipss @lovehakie @ilysungho @ivxae @amnellsia @wensurr @wnouzi @luckiihan @silvervalley101 @mochamvgz @parkpenghoonnn @nemoihan @kazukazukiiii @gentiliana @en-dream @omlhyck @ruuroom @beomtomie @leehanaholic (pls send an ask to be added or removed!)
hii! can i be added to the perm tg? i didn't realize that you opened one 😓 also love LOVE LOOOOVED the doctor leehan fic, my word about your self-indulgent fics always being amazeballs still stands i fear
oh my gosh kai im so sorry i forgot to reply to this! of course ill add you!! 🥹🫶🏻 adghfh thank you v much, that was peak self indulgence ngl (and i had a feeling u were gonna say smth abt it, i thought abt u when i typed my a/n HAHAH) 💞
theartofmadeline
origamiaround
kianamaiart
turnnoffyourmind
