bro i’m not a writer or anything like that but i had to come on here to RANT. bang chan is literally going to be the death of me. i seriously have had nothing sane to say since KARMA. the silver mullet. silver. the workout videos. roman empire. RAILWAY. seriously this man is going to give me a heart attack and he doesn’t even know i exist.
no alarms, no vitals. no hum of central monitors or call lights chiming out of sync.
the only sound comes from the soft clack of your keys on the counter and the rubbery squeak of your work shoes as you kick them off. your scrubs still smell like alcohol wipes and hospital rooms, and your chest is still tight in the way it always is after you’ve held your breath for twelve hours straight.
you don’t turn the lights on. you let the shadows stretch long across the kitchen tile instead, the last dregs of sunset flickering through the blinds in bands of gold. your back hits the wall by the door, and for a second, you just stand there.
you squeeze your eyes shut, hands in your pockets, swallowing the burn in your throat like it might go away if you wait long enough.
your phone buzzes before the tears have time to brim behind your tired eyes.
FACETIME REQUEST: jiniret
you exhale as you swipe the screen to answer.
"hey," hyunjin says, warm and breathless. "you alive?"
on your screen, he’s pacing his locker room, his front camera angled a little too low. his scrub top looks like he just tugged it on, sleeves rolled to the elbows, surgical cap still untied. there’s a smudge of toothpaste at the corner of his mouth. you’ll never understand why he doesn’t just get ready at home like a normal person, but that’s hyunjin— not quite normal.
"barely," you croak, sinking to the stool at your kitchen counter. the screen wobbles as you prop it against the bowl you meant to eat cereal in this morning but never did.
hyunjin hums, "you look like you got hit by a truckload of charting."
you sigh tiredly. "feels more like an airplane."
"oh no."
“yeah."
he’s tying his scrub cap now, twisting the fabric and tucking the tail in with muscle memory. the motion is smooth, practiced. the same way you tightened an ambu bag earlier with one hand and didn’t even notice until you clocked out.
"how bad was it?" he asks, reading the silent lines in your face.
you don’t answer right away; you just press your forehead to your palm and let yourself breathe— finally, really breathe. the air feels thick. your ribs ache with the long inhale.
"we almost lost lina today," you say.
hyunjin stills. his hands lower. his mouth sets into something grim as his voice lowers into a hush, "shit."
you nod solemnly. “it was a renal crash. hyperkalimic episode came out of the blue, and she coded on us."
"but…?" he raises a concerned brow.
"we got her back, thank god," you murmur. "normal rhythm after a minute and a half. she’s stable now, all pinked up. but—"
you stop. your throat closes around the rest.
"but it was close," hyunjin finishes for you.
you nod. your voice is flat when you say, "i thought i’d feel it more… after. but right now it’s just— quiet. like it didn’t even happen. i’m more focused on what i said to the drowning victim’s parents in the ICU than i am on her code. how fucked is that, huh?”
hyunjin squints. "you’re in shock."
"maybe. maybe i’m just used to it," you sigh with a shrug.
he frowns and crosses to his locker again, voice dipping into something firmer. because he knows you’re about to deflect and deny every dull emotion roiling inside you until you can’t name them anymore. "don’t say that like it’s normal."
"but it is," you say, the words sitting heavy on your tongue. "we do everything right, and sometimes they still crash. you know that. they teach us that. they say not to take it home, not to hold onto it too hard."
hyunjin leans close to the camera, dark eyes pinning you through the screen. "but you do hold onto it. i know you. you don’t know how not to."
a beat of pointed silence passes, and you blink hard.
then he makes a noncommittal noise, glancing over his shoulder at something out of frame; maybe another surgeon coming in. maybe just the clock.
"i wish i had more time to talk," he says, quieter now, "but i’m technically on shift as of thirty seconds ago. i’ve got an airway case in like twenty minutes. post-tonsil bleed, might need to cauterize. you know how it is."
you nod again, because you do. of course you do. it’s a miracle he even called, even more miraculous that his call came through on the shitty hospital wifi.
"listen," he says, crouching down to the camera so you’re eye-level. "don’t do the isolation thing. not tonight, okay? just… don’t sit in this alone. talk to someone. make ramen. facetime felix and make him cry— he’s overdue. watch something shitty with chan and changbin."
a shaky laugh slips out of you before you can stop it. "changbin’s working a double tonight, the poor thing. but you’re such a menace."
"it’s how i cope."
"you’re lucky you’re pretty,” you say with narrowed eyes.
he smirks. "i know."
you grin too, the pull of your lips faint and fleeting, and somehow that feels like the biggest relief of the night.
then hyunjin sobers again. "seriously. let yourself feel something, y/n."
"what if it hurts?" the question is rhetorical, barely a whisper. you can hear the choked-back emotion in it.
hyunjin shrugs, “then it means you’re still soft. and that’s not such a bad thing."
you nod. “have a good shift, hyun.”
the screen freezes a second before it ends: hyunjin half-smiling, mid-wave, blue scrub top blurry in motion.
facetime call ended.
and in the silence that follows, you let your head fall against your hand and allow the quiet rush in again.
but this time, it doesn’t drown you. not yet.
you’re holding it off until you hear your favorite pair of keys jingle in the lock.
–
you’re halfway through a cup of ramen and barely even tasting it.
you’re not hungry, not really. you just don’t want to feel lightheaded when you inevitably cry later. and it felt wrong to leave the kitchen as empty as the rest of the house; so you boiled the water, dumped in the flavor packet, and watched the steam curl with tired, lifeless eyes.
now you’re on the large grey couch in your shared living room, fuzzy blanket over your knees, slurping halfheartedly while a verbal wrestling match unfolds on-screen between a man named zeke and his third fiancée in under two years.
the show is absolute garbage. which is exactly why you put it on— you needed mindless drama to replace the clinical buzz that always lingers in your head after a hard shift.
the trashy show is loud enough to drown out your thoughts. easy to watch, easier not to feel. you chew without blinking as zeke accuses lauren of sleeping with her personal trainer and lauren swears on her chihuahua’s life that she only did it once.
you’re just tilting the cup for the last few noodles when the lock clicks.
your body reacts before your mind does: shoulders dropping, neck relaxing, breath evening out. it’s automatic, the safety that blankets you anytime he’s near.
the door swings open and there’s a familiar sigh. it’s heavy, sounding just as tired as you. followed by—
“i’m home!”
chan’s voice is a singsong lilt, cracked with fatigue but still warm at the edges. he closes the door with his foot and sets his empty lunchbox carefully on the counter like it’s a ticking bomb, then his work bag, before finally sliding his gym backpack off his shoulders and letting it slip to the floor.
you glance up. “hey, channie.”
he pads into the living room and catches sight of you sprawled across the couch, blanket pulled to your chin like armor. there’s an empty water bottle tucked into the pillows beside you and an unworn pair of hospital-issued gloves thrown like an afterthought on the coffee table.
“good,” he says, toeing off his shoes, “you ate something.”
you shrug. “nutritional value debatable.”
he flops onto the couch beside you with a groan, legs sprawling, one hand going straight to his hair to push it back out of his face. his hair is damp with sweat, proof of another long shift worked off at the gym.
he glances at the tv and cringes hard. “so what dysfunctional couple are we watching fight tonight?”
“zeke and lauren.” your tone is about as flat as it’s ever been.
he squints. “is this the one where he brought his ex-fiancée to couples therapy?”
“mhm.”
“god, and i’m single,” he shakes his head with a disbelieving chuckle.
you give a weak laugh and nudge him with your foot. “don’t worry, you’ve still got plenty of time to ruin your life.”
chan rolls his eyes. “thanks, sweetheart. that’s absolutely what i needed to hear,” he says with a short huff.
the banter feels like breathing with one nostril: not quite right, but still enough to stay alive.
you both watch in silence as zeke throws a bouquet of apology flowers into a pool. lauren screams that she’s canceling their matching tattoo appointments. chan murmurs, “honestly, probably for the best.”
you nod.
he doesn’t say anything else right away; doesn’t press. he just sinks further into the cushions beside you, arms resting over the back of the couch, and lets the quiet settle between you like there’s not an elephant looming in the room.
you don’t even realize how close you’ve drifted until your blanket-covered knee brushes his thigh.
he doesn’t move away. he never does.
instead, he lifts your legs and plops them on his lap without another thought, eyes not even bothering to leave the screen where zeke and lauren are starting to call their friends and create even more drama. the motion is so chan: always near, always ready to be your anchor.
the tears begin to brim at his touch. your cheeks flush and your vision blurs as they rise, fast and hot.
and as if he can sense every thought bouncing in your head, chan wordlessly scoots close enough to wedge himself right next to you and wraps one arm around you, pulling you into an embrace that he hopes is tight enough to squeeze out every drop of sadness.
you curl into his side and feel the first tear slip down your cheek, rolling away until it drops off your chin and lands on his sweaty workout shirt. his hand rubs your back soothingly as you finally let yourself fall apart.
his palms are steady even as your back shakes with your silent crying. you don’t have room to feel embarrassed as chan holds you closer still, ever your rock, your safe place; he lets you tuck your head under his chin, never once complaining about your tears hitting his neck and disappearing under the collar of his shirt.
you sniffle and let the tears come– no more pushing them down. no more holding them at bay. you let the day’s emotions leave you in trails of salt down your cheeks, and allow your best friend to hold you as the grief leeches itself from your body.
chan stays quiet, but his hand never stops moving. he traces gentle, soft circles across your back, his other hand rubbing up and down your shin affectionately.
he doesn’t make you look at him; doesn’t tell you it’s going to be okay. he doesn’t make you say or do anything but this— letting go. letting everything out, at long last.
you stay that way for a while, quietly crying into his shoulder, until the tears run dry and the hollow lump leaves your throat.
your breathing’s gone quiet again.
not quite even, nowhere near calm; but he can feel it, the slow release of the weight finally loosening its grip on your chest.
chan adjusts slightly, his arms still firm around you, like he’s not sure if you’re ready to let go. like maybe he’s not ready, either.
his voice comes low, threadbare at the edges.
“you don’t always have to do it like this, you know.”
you don’t answer right away, instead just breathing him in— sweat and cafeteria coffee and a lingering trace of the cologne you bought him last christmas.
“do what?” you murmur into his shoulder, voice thick.
“hold it all in ‘til it breaks you.”
his thumb sweeps another slow circle between your shoulder blades, gentler than anything you felt all day.
“i’m okay now,” you lie.
chan lets out a soft sound. not quite a laugh, but not a sigh, either.
“no, you’re not.” there’s no judgment in it.
you swallow.
“i didn’t even cry when we coded her,” you whisper. “i just… jumped in and went on autopilot. i did everything right, channie, but i still feel like—” you stop short. the words stick too tightly in your throat.
chan doesn’t push. he just rubs your shin again, the motion steady and grounding.
“you were there,” he says softly. “you were there, and you helped bring her back. you kept her breathing. that’s not failure, y/n.“
you shake your head, but it’s barely a motion. “i still feel like it was almost my fault.” and there it is: the gnawing fear you’ve held too close to your chest all day.
his next inhale stutters just a little. you feel it in his chest beneath your cheek.
“you always think it’s your fault when something goes wrong,” he says. “just like i always think it’s mine. you and i are horrible at that. but sometimes… sometimes it’s no one’s. sometimes we do everything right and it still goes to hell. it’s the job.”
you pull back just enough to look at him, and your eyes sting again at the sight of him—so tired, so earnest, so here. so safe. he looks just as worn down as you, just as hollow behind his waning smile.
“how do you live with that?” you ask.
chan’s eyes flick up to yours. he’s quiet for a moment too long.
then—
“by not doing it alone.”
the words crack something open in you again; but it’s wide and spreading, and it feels like relief.
it’s knowing he meant you and him. never alone. never breaking apart without the other there to soften the rough pieces and put them back together again.
you hug him tight.
“what would i do without you?” you mumble, a wave of gratitude washing over you for being lucky enough to find a friend like him.
he shrugs, the motion moving you with him. “probably slip into a reality show-induced coma on the couch every night.” he deadpans. it’s true enough to draw a small laugh from you; quiet, but real.
he lets out a sigh, but this one isn’t heavy anymore. not very light, but not weighed down like it was before. as if you somehow held him together the way he did for you.
silence settles again, quieter now— stillness slowing everything down. the house feels peaceful, in that raw, aching way that follows a good cry. chan’s fingers keep tracing your back like a lullaby. you stay curled into him, tired down to the marrow, safe right there where you are.
you don’t know how long you sit like that, but it’s enough for your heart to steady. enough for the guilt to quiet. enough to remind you that surviving the day counts, even if you didn’t do it perfectly. even if you barely made it.
you yawn and stretch, wiggling yourself out of chan’s cocoon of safety. he throws you a lopsided smile before leaning back on the couch cushions, your feet still in his lap.
you turn up the volume just a little now that the couple on the tv has stopped fighting, fully prepared to immerse yourself in trashy drama once more.
and then the door rattles: BANG BANG BANG.
you jolt so hard you almost spill the dregs of your cold ramen.
chan groans softly, dropping his head back against the couch. “please, no.”
bang bang bang bang.
“i know you’re home, fuckers!” han jisung bellows from the hallway, “open up!”
you blink. chan blinks. neither of you moves.
“he’ll go away,” chan mutters under his breath. “just ignore him.”
“hey, i can hear you!” comes the follow-up through the door. “and i’m gonna eat all twelve of these delicious, scrumptious donuts on the floor of the elevator unless someone lets me in!”
you snort despite yourself as chan sighs in defeat.
“be right back,” he grumbles, untangling from you gently and standing up. his shirt is still damp where you cried, and you think he knows it. he doesn’t seem to care.
you watch him cross to the door and unlock it. the moment the bolt turns, jisung explodes inside.
his hoodie is half-zipped, his battered crocs on the wrong feet. his hair sticks up in five directions like he lost a fight with a headrest, and he’s brandishing a crumpled pink bakery box in the air as if it’s a holy relic.
“behold!” he declares, holding the box aloft. “my peace offering. i come bearing gifts.”
“hey, ji. changbin’s working a double tonight.” chan says flatly, stepping aside to let him in.
jisung ignores him completely. “is she okay?” he whispers almost comically loud, eyes darting past chan to find you on the couch.
you scrub hastily at your face with your sleeve, but there’s no saving the puffiness around your eyes. or the melancholy energy radiating off your blanket burrito.
“i’ve been better,” you admit, voice raspy from crying. you try for a smile, but you’re pretty sure it’s a grimace.
“cool. great. love that,” he says, striding across the room and kneeling dramatically in front of you like a knight. “please accept a donut as tribute of my eternal devotion.”
he opens the box. there’s a variety of donuts; one has a bite in it. another is upside down and sort of… misshapen. one of the jelly-filled ones has ruptured.
“at least you tried,” you murmur.
“i did more than try,” jisung says with a sniff. “i nearly got into a fistfight with a lady in a muumuu over the oreo-covered one. it cost me my last shred of dignity.”
you roll your eyes at his theatricism. “you never had dignity to begin with, han.”
“hmm… correct,” he says proudly, shoving a glazed one in his mouth in one single bite.
chan reclaims his spot beside you with a quiet thud and grabs a donut at random without looking. jisung collapses onto the floor in front of the couch, back against the coffee table, powdered sugar already collecting on his hoodie. for a few minutes, none of you speak.
the room fills with the low drone of reality tv as zeke and lauren call in their respective mothers to defend their reputations.
jisung swallows, then breaks the silence with a sigh.
“we’re all doing great, huh?”
“so great,” you say quietly, nudging his knee with your foot. “peak performance.”
he smiles, tight but real. “cool, cool. just checking.”
another minute of casual silence passes.
“i can’t believe you guys were watching our show without me.”
chan sighs heavily through his nose. “we don’t have a show, jisung. you say that about whatever we’re watching when you come over.”
han waves his hand in the air. “semantics.”
you laugh a little, the lightness of the jokes not quite filling you; but it slowly erases some of the hollow ache from your chest.
your tears are dry. your stomach is full. your couch isn’t empty.
and god, you have the greatest friends in the world.
–
the clock next to the tv reads 10:48 PM by the time jisung dusts off his sugar-powdered hands and rises from his seat at the foot of the coffee table.
“alright,” he groans, cracking his neck like he just fought a war. “i’m heading home to go dissociate in my bathtub for a few hours.”
“text us if you drown,” chan says without looking up from his phone.
han grins. “i’ll text the group chat live updates as the water rises.”
you snort, the sound muffled by the pillow you’re curled into. “thanks for the donuts, ji.”
he gives you a dramatic two-finger salute and slinks toward the door, one of his crocs squeaking with every other step. you both wait to hear the lock click behind him, and when it does, the apartment sinks into silence again; this time it's softer, spent.
you and chan clean up without really speaking, but it’s not a quiet that feels cold. just tired and familiar. you toss empty wrappers and napkins into the trash while he wipes powdered sugar from the coffee table with the sleeve of his shirt. neither of you cares enough to do a good job.
then you lock eyes, the bags under his surely mirroring your own.
chan stretches with a sigh that ends in a wince. “okay. bed.”
you nod. “bed.”
you both retreat from the living room, arms bumping before you turn to your respective bedrooms. you peel off your scrubs like they’re the plague, tossing them into your hamper and snapping the lid shut. you pull out tomorrow’s fresh teal pair and lay them across your chair.
always ready. always pushing to the next day.
a few minutes later, you’re standing over the sink, toothbrush dangling from the corner of your mouth.
your reflection looks better than it did two hours ago: eyes still puffy, but no longer haunted. you feel… not fixed, not put-together. but steadier. a little more at ease in your own skin.
chan knocks twice on the door before cracking it open. “ji left his water bottle,” he says, holding up the bottle in question like a crime exhibit. “you think if i fill it with vinegar, he’ll notice?”
you snort around a mouthful of toothpaste. “he drinks so fast that he honestly might not.”
chan grins, then leans against the doorframe, eyes scanning over you in the mirror. he doesn’t say anything for a beat– just watches you, quiet.
“you okay?” he asks finally, voice low like he's already winding down for sleep.
you shrug one shoulder. “i’ll be fine. you?”
“me?” he echoes, blinking slow like he has to think about it. “i’m alright.”
he nods it off like it hasn’t been a hard day; like helping you ease the weight off your chest made it easier for him to carry, too. he pushes off the wall, steps into the bathroom long enough to nudge your arm gently so you scoot over at the sink. you do– easily. this routine has played out a hundred times before.
you finish brushing, rinse, and wipe your mouth with a towel while you hand his toothbrush to him wordlessly. he takes it, running water over it as you put yours back in the stand. but before he starts brushing, he bumps his elbow lightly into yours. you glance up.
his eyes are soft when he says, “you were really brave today.”
you don't really know what to say to that.
“not because you didn’t cry,” he continues. “but because you let yourself fall apart after. that takes just as much bravery as our job does.”
you don’t answer, not really. you just lean into him with a grateful smile before announcing that you're too tired to stand anymore.
then he’s brushing his teeth, and you’re putting up your hair before wishing him goodnight.
you shuffle barefoot down the hall back to your room, and it’s late. you turn on your tv just to have something on in the background, something to keep the buzz in your head quiet.
but when you climb into bed, your blankets feel warmer than usual. they swaddle you with their comfort, and you snuggle into them before turning out the light, jisung's laughter and chan's compliment echoing together in your head.
and somehow, sleep comes easier.
–
the first thing you notice when you pad into the living room the next morning is changbin’s arm dangling off the couch like a corpse.
his snoring mouth is wide open, work badge is still clipped to his scrub top. his lanyard is askew. a half-kicked blanket is tangled over his legs, wrapped tightly around the left as if he was tossing and turning for hours.
“poor guy didn’t even make it to his room,” chan murmurs behind you as he appears from the hallway, his voice low from sleep. “that double shift must’ve been hell.”
you nod, already moving to the kitchen to start the coffee. your body aches in that familiar way— less from exhaustion, more from being asked to show up again. another shift. another morning. another day to fill with patients and laughter and the still-fading tang of the daily grief you wear like it’s a second skin.
chan yawns as he passes by, ruffling his hair with one hand while the other retrieves a mug from the cabinet. it’s the one you painted for a team-building event at some local ceramics place last month, the one he claimed looked like a melted bowling ball. he uses it every day anyway.
the morning is slow to start, and neither of you dare to wake changbin from the first real sleep he's had in over twenty-four hours. your toast pops up as chan’s oatmeal buzzes in the microwave. he hands you a spoon without asking when you open your cup of peach yogurt.
it’s so routine you could do it in your sleep, this rhythm you share. every movement feels choreographed from months of these mornings.
you eat at the counter, legs tucked up on the stool, watching the last legs of the sunrise catch on the edges of the other buildings through the blinds. chan sits beside you, hunched over his mug like it’s the only thing tethering him to the earth.
“what unit are you on today?” he asks without looking up. "i know i scheduled to be on with you for the rest of the week, so please tell me it's a good one."
“pretty sure it's med surge today," you scrape your spoon against the side of the yogurt cup obnoxiously, making chan shake his head. “low census, according to the group chat. i think half the floor’s still sedated.”
“thank god,” he mutters. “i need a no-fire day.”
you hum in agreement. “mm. you and me both.”
he looks over then, and you catch the smallest smile on his lips.
you glance away. but you smile, too.
twenty minutes later, you’re both in the bathroom— chan is brushing his teeth while you wrestle your badge reel out of a knot. you’re both in fresh scrubs today: you in your usual teal, him in his superhero scrubs with spider-man’s face printed all over them.
your work bags are packed by the door, sneakers waiting by the mat. changbin is still dead to the world, one sock halfway off, drool threatening to roll down his chin.
you pause to tuck the blanket over him on your way out the door, leaving a sticky note on the coffee table to tell him you and chan will be gone. chan watches with a smile before he checks the time, eyes widening as he motions you to hurry up. “come on. if we’re late, lee know’ll put us on call light duty.”
you follow him out, tossing your hoodie on and tucking your stethoscope carefully into your bag. the front door clicks shut behind you.
and you head out into the day together, ready to save little lives all over again.
—
the med surge unit is unusually quiet when you walk in– and for once, it's not in a bad way. just a sleepy one.
the ward hums with low lights, soft beeps. one or two call lights are blinking politely instead of blaring. most of the post-operative patients are still riding out their anesthesia, either snoring gently or mumbling into their pillows. the nurses’ station is littered with empty coffee cups and a bag of stale popcorn left over from night shift. someone—probably janice, the ward clerk— has drawn a lopsided cat with beady eyes on the corner of the shift whiteboard and labeled it "our charge nurse." you have a sneaking suspicion it’s a portrait of lee know.
you scan the board: four patients coming out of anesthesia, two being moved to stepdown once a bed opens up, no procedures before noon. thank god.
chan whistles low behind you, reading the board over your shoulder as he takes your bag and sets it down beside his. “blessed be the census gods.”
you smile faintly. “they must’ve heard our prayers.”
chan busies himself with getting set up to start rounding, and you begin scanning the board to see who your sleeping beauties are for the day.
jeongin's already camped out at the nurses' station by the time you get there, leaning on one elbow as he pecks away at the keyboard with one hand, a stolen juice box from the cafeteria cart clutched in the other. he looks up the second he hears your footsteps.
the grin that breaks across his face is almost blinding.
yesterday, he'd looked like someone had siphoned every ounce of energy out of him. today, the sparkle's back in his eyes like it never left.
"there's my favorite face to see at..." he glances at the clock mounted above the station, "7:05 in the morning." his smile only grows. "did you survive after our shift from hell?"
you narrow your eyes at him.
"it was fine," you sigh, shrugging one shoulder as you log into the computer beside him. "other than the minor mental breakdown i had the second i got home. pretty standard evening."
"yeah?"
you answer with a noncommittal hum, "yeah."
overnight charts populate across your screen. you click through the first patient's labs, waiting for him to inevitably continue.
he doesn't. instead, you can still feel him looking at you.
you stop typing. "what?"
jeongin tilts his head, looking almost wounded. "you're not gonna ask me how my night went?"
there's a little pout pulling at his mouth now, so boyish that you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.
it's funny, really, how easy it is to forget that the CNA is one of the youngest people on the floor. but then he makes a face like that, and suddenly, he's twenty-three again instead of pretending to be everyone's responsible coworker.
you sigh dramatically, propping your chin in your hand.
"did you do anything particularly interesting last night, jeongin?"
his eyes light up. "i dragged felix to that new karaoke place downtown," he beams. "we were there for, like, four hours. i think the owner was about thirty seconds away from physically escorting us out."
you raise a brow, "felix stayed for four hours?"
"against his will." jeongin shrugs, looking like he isn’t at all sorry for it. "i had the time of my life, but...i don't think he did."
you let out a small snort at that. "sounds about right."
he takes another sip from the juice box. "hey, he bought the drinks, so i wasn't complaining.”
"are you even old enough to drink?" you tease him, knowing fully well that he’s been legal for a while now.
his jaw drops with dramatic offense. "i'm plenty old enough, thank you very much."
"mhm. could've fooled me."
you're already opening your mouth to point out that he'll appreciate looking sixteen when he's forty, but the shrill ding of a call light cuts you off.
room six. and of course, one glance at the board tells you it falls under your assignment.
you glance toward the hallway, then back at jeongin, taking one last sip of rapidly cooling coffee. "duty calls," you offer lamely before abandoning the workstation.
"coward," he mutters after you.
you stifle a laugh, straightening your badge out of habit before knocking softly on room six's door.
the dim room is quieter than you expect.
most of the rooms on the floor have a certain energy to them: toddlers who think the pulse ox is a tiny glowing toy, parents who haven't slept in three days, younger kids who don't understand why they can't just get up and go home yet.
but teenagers are different.
they're old enough to understand what's happening; old enough to be frustrated by it, but somehow still young enough to believe that needing help is a personal inconvenience rather than… well, the entire reason everyone here has a job.
you stop to sanitize your hands, the sound of the dispenser announcing your arrival.
"good morning," you say gently.
the teenager in the bed looks up from his phone, blinking like he wasn't expecting anyone to actually answer the call light.
he can't be older than sixteen.
his dark hair is flattened on one side from sleeping, hospital gown hanging awkwardly over his shoulders, a pair of sweatpants visible underneath it. "hey," he says.
his voice is rough, but you quickly discern that it’s not from distress; maybe just exhaustion.
you glance at the monitor first. his heart rate is elevated, but not alarming. oxygen saturation is sitting comfortably where it should be, with no obvious signs of increased work of breathing.
good. you move closer to the bed.
"what can i do for you?" you ask, keeping your voice soft.
he hesitates. "uh..." he opens his mouth to say something else, but then his shoulders shake with a wracking cough, wheezy and sounding high in his chest.
you wait.
eventually, he gestures vaguely towards his throat, "it just feels kind of tight again."
you hum lightly. "okay, tell me what kind of tight," you prompt him as he shifts the hospital gown for you to have better access.
he looks at you curiously, and you give him a small smile. "there's a few different kinds."
that gets the tiniest hint of a smile out of him.
"like...like i can't get a full breath."
"would you mind if i took a listen for a second?"
he nods, sitting up a little straighter while you grab your stethoscope, and you notice the way his shoulders tense automatically. the same way every patient does when they know someone is about to check something they can't see themselves.
"take some slow breaths for me," you instruct, listening closely.
air movement is present. a little diminished at the bases, but nothing that sends alarm bells through your head.
your brows furrow as you move your stethoscope towards his left lung, "did it come out of nowhere?"
he shakes his head, dark curls bouncing, "no, i’ve had it for a while, but it just feels worse, somehow."
you move the stethoscope back to the right. "after you got up?"
he shakes his head. "just laying here."
you remove your stethoscope and loop it back around your neck, glancing at the monitor, then at him.
"when was your last treatment?"
he shrugs, "maybe twenty minutes ago?"
"and before that?"
“um…” he scratching his head, "i don't know. two hours?"
you nod, filing that away.
"okay," you say after a moment, pulling the stethoscope away, "the good news is that your lungs sound okay."
his eyebrows lift. "they do?"
"they do,” you repeat with a small smile.
the relief on his face is immediate.
"your breathing is probably feeling worse than it looks right now."
he frowns. "that happens?"
you nod enthusiastically, "oh, we see it all the time. especially after a bad asthma flare. your body is still technically struggling, even though things have started improving. sometimes the best medicine we can give your lungs is time to recover, as boring as it sounds."
he looks down at his hands. "that's annoying."
“very,” you reassure him, “but nothing to be too worried about. your nurse will be in soon to make sure everything else is fine, but you can always hit the call bell and ask for me to take another listen.”
you make to step away from the side of the bed before the boy inhales sharply.
"i was winning," he says suddenly.
you blink. "what?"
he gestures toward a soccer jersey, folded neatly on the bedside chair with his other personal belongings. "the game."
your heart tightens, seeing the green jersey with number seven emblazoned on it. "oh…" you trail off, not quite sure what to say. you don’t know much about soccer.
he sighs dramatically. "we were up two to one, final ten minutes. i was having a great game."
the corner of your mouth tugs upward. "and then?"
he waves a frustrated hand near his chest, "and then my lungs decided they hated me."
there's enough genuine offense in his voice that you have to bite back a laugh.
"well, that was rude of them." you adjust the blanket at the foot of his bed, mostly because your hands need something to do. “but for what it's worth, your lungs are behaving a little better now."
he sighs, "they better be."
"you have a very complicated relationship with them."
"yeah, apparently."
you step back, checking the monitor one more time.
"i'm going to let your nurse know you were feeling tight so we can keep an eye on it. if it gets worse, if you feel like you can't catch your breath, or if something just feels wrong, hit the button again."
he nods.
"even if it's annoying?"
you look at him. "especially if it's annoying,” you grin, “that’s my job. i take care of annoying lungs for a living, you know.”
that earns another small smile. "okay, then. thank you."
you turn back and exit room six into the hallway, pulling the door mostly closed behind you.
and immediately walk straight into someone.
"oh—!" you start, already bracing to hit the sterile linoleum, but then a familiar pair of hands catches your shoulders before you can stumble backward.
you look up.
chan is standing there with the vitals machine beside him, eyebrows raised, his patient rounding list fluttering to floor. you automatically lean over to grab it, handing it back with an embarrassed laugh.
"i take it you were about to come in?" you ask through a wide smile.
he glances toward room six’s door. “yeah, but you seem pretty keen to get out of there. everything okay with–” he checks his list– “eli?”
you straighten out your stethoscope, hands smoothing over your teal scrubs as if the near-tumble somehow wrinkled them.
"eli's awake,” you report smoothly, “he hit the call bell for me, said he was feeling a little chest tightness after his neb session."
chan's expression shifts immediately from friendly to concerned. "how bad?"
"not bad,” you’re quick to reassure him. “lungs sounded okay, sats are good. i think he just got anxious because he's still feeling that tight sensation right after treatment."
chan nods, concern ebbing back into his usual warmth. "makes sense."
"i told him i'd let you know."
his smile turns knowing. "of course you did."
you narrow your eyes slightly. "what's that supposed to mean?"
"oh, nothing,” he sighs, but you know better than that.
you nudge him playfully. "chan."
"i'm just saying, it's seven fifteen in the morning and you've already checked on my patient before i've even made it into the room."
"your patient?" you say, pretending to take offense.
"fine, our patient."
you roll your eyes, but you can't stop the smile still spreading at your best friend’s antics.
"you're impossible,” you say with a shake your head, stepping around him. "i have charts to finish."
he gestures to the rolling cart, "and i have vitals to take."
"look at us being healthcare professionals," you say as your hands slip into your scrub pockets.
he snorts. “almost like that’s what we spent six years in school for, isn’t it?”
you laugh quietly as you head back toward the workstation.
the morning has officially started. there will be charts to finish, vitals to take, call lights to answer, and patients who need you before the day is even fully awake.
warnings: use of “y/n”, use of “baby” kind of cringey cute lol
a/n: this was in my notes for a while and kinda rushed to finish so it’s not my fav but i thought it was rly cute lollll enjoy :)) also not proof read and not perfect grammar!!
*******************************
it was one of those rare evenings. chan had the day off and he was home.. well he was supposed to be. you and chan had been together for about 2 years and you had dealt with his busy schedule because you loved him and knew how much it meant to him. the day started off with chan going to workout and you had made breakfast for when he got back but you got a call from him.
“baby.. they called me in. i have to re record some things-“ he started. the rest you didn’t hear much of since your eyes watered and your heart felt heavy. this wasn’t anything new.. but it still hurt every time. honestly the last few months you’ve had maybe one or two days together.
“i’m sorry y/n. i love you.” he says over the phone. you look over at the table you set up and wipe a tear that fell down your cheek.
“love you.” you mumble. you hang up and set your phone down as you clean up the table. you had cleared your schedule and called off work like you always did for his days off so you had nothing to do. you laid on the couch in your pjs and watched boring movies and crying randomly thinking about the fact that you never could see your boyfriend.
the day dragged on and it was night time- almost midnight. you had fallen asleep on the couch curled up under the blanket. the front door opened and you woke up feeling the couch dip slightly. your eyes fluttered open and there was chan. your lips were puffy and eyes kind of red from crying. he moved the hair out of your face as he leaned in hugging you tightly.
“i’m so sorry” he said into your hair. you wrapped your arms around him and hugged him back, immediately feeling comfort. he kissed your head before he pulled back. “i wanna do something tonight.. can you get dressed?” he asked softly.
still kinda sleepy you just nod softly and stand up heading to the room. you sigh softly running a hand through your hair as you picked out some jeans and a tanktop that had a lace trim with a zip up jacket and your converse. you stepped into the bathroom and just did some light makeup and brushed your hair you hear chan come in and he appears in the mirror behind you. you smile softly as his arms snake around your waist. he kisses your neck softly.
“you ready?” he mumbled against your neck. your ears turn red and you nod. he smiles as he leaves the bathroom heading to the door. you sprayed some perfume and followed after him shutting the door, both of you headed to the parking garage.
it was pretty late so you didn’t have to worry about fans or paparazzi. you got in his car passenger side and let out a soft breath. he got in drivers side and started the car immediately. he seemed kind of nervous.
“where are we going?” you ask quietly. he pulls out of the parking garage. he smiles softly as he glances at you
“it’s a surprise” he says as he intertwines his hand into yours and you smile softly shaking your head.
he drives for a good 30 minutes, soft music playing and his hand resting on your thigh like it belonged there- before he turns down a road you didn’t recognize. you glance at him.
“okay so.. i haven’t taken anyone here before.. uhm..” he says with a slight shake to his voice. “when i was a trainee, i obviously was away from home and family- i didn’t really have anyone before i found the members so at night i would sneak out of the dorm and i found this spot.” he says quietly as he parks the car. you look out the window and it was a open field. it was dark and away from the bright city lights. you look back at him.
“chris.. are you sure you’re okay taking me he-“
“yes y/n.. i want to share this with you” he says as he gets out of the car and opens your door holding a hand out. you take it and step out and take in a deep breath of the fresh air.
“you didn’t have to do all this” you say your cheeks turning a soft pink. he smiles as he passes you walking to the field.
“come on” he says. you shake your head as you follow behind him. there was no trees, just grass and the dirt road. you glance up as you walk and your heart skips as you see all the stars. living in korea the lights from the city made it almost impossible to see the stars. you look closer and you see some lights down the hill and you look at chan.
“what is that??” you ask confused. he walks behind you and covers your eyes. you laugh with him as you slowly step and his hand finds your waist.
“just keep walking, i got you baby.” he say softly next to your ear. you have the biggest smile on your face as you keep walking before he stops. he pulls his hand back and you eyes adjust to the fairy lights that were on the ground. there was a blanket and a small picnic basket with a bouquet of flowers. you hand covered your mouth as you look at chan and your eyes water as you hug him tightly.
“chris this is too much i-“ you start to say but he pulls back and presses his lips to yours softly as he wipes away your tear that had escaped.
“y/n.. i wanted to make up to you for just.. all the times i couldn’t be there and how you’ve always stayed by my side supporting me and my dreams. i never want you to think i take that for granted.. and i love you so so much.” he says as he tucks your hair behind your ear and smiles at you. you sniffle and hug him again tightly. his arms bear hug you back. “i got your favorite snacks and figure we can just watch the stars and snack and just.. be together.” he says softly against your hair. you smile and pull back as you nod and you both sit down next to each other.
the rest of the night was filled with giggles and jokes and laughs. he would point up and tell you about the certain stars and constellations that were up in the sky. eventually you had both laid down.. you on his chest as his arm was around you.
“i love you” you whisper softly as you moved closer to him and closed your eyes.
“i love you more” he said barely above a whisper as you both fell asleep soundly.
bangchan with his shy girlfriend who just wants affection
AN: hi you guys! I am blown away by the love and support I have been receiving. Thank you all so so so much for everything.
Summary: Bangchan with his shy gf who really just wants his affection but isn't sure how to ask.
word count: 515
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
“What’s that look for?” Chris asked eventually after y/n kept giving him shy glances
“What look? I’m not doing anything.” y/n said, hardly even looking at Chris. Sometimes, his eyes just made her too nervous. They were always filled with so much affection for her, it was overwhelming.
Chris pushes himself over towards his girlfriend who’s sitting on the couch cushion next to him, and raises a hand to her cheek. His palm is hot on her cheek, as he slowly rubs his thumb in a soothing motion, to get her to look at him.
“You looked mad,” Chris said as he looked at his girl with such loving eyes.
“I’m not mad.” y/n says as she looks up at him through her lashes. Still a little too shy to look at him properly.
“I know you aren’t. You just had that look. Still feel like there’s something wrong.” he said as he kissed her cheek.
“No, there’s nothing wrong.” y/n mutters as Chris brings his hand down off her cheek. The second his hand is off her cheek, Chris sees her face form into a small frown. Y/n’s eyebrows furrow just a smidge, and her lips form a small pout. She shyly glances at his face and then down to the hand that was just holding her cheek.
“Hey. There’s that face again. Are you sure there’s nothing wrong, babygirl?” Chris chuckles but reaches his hand back for her cheek.
The second his hand is back on her cheek, it's like y/n’s entire body relaxed. Her shoulders dropping, leaning her face into his touch, letting herself feel his big, warm hand be so soft on her cheek.
“No, I’m really not mad. I just… I just wanted this. I wanted to feel your skin on mine, and know that you’re there.” y/n muttered shyly, hiding her face in her hands. “I think I also just really want a hug.” She giggles as she hides her face deeper, not being able to look at his loving eyes.
“Aww. Babygirl, really? This is all you wanted? Just some physical touch. You are absolutely adorable.” He says, bringing his hands up to her wrist to reveal her face. “C’mon baby. Let me see that sweet face of yours.” He chuckles as he watches her hide her face for a few more seconds before finally giving into his wishes.
Chris pulls her forward by her waist, maneuvering her around to sit right in his lap. Wrapping his muscular arms around her waist, and squeezing her in a bone crushing hug that they both needed so terribly.
Y/n lets a little squeak as she wraps her arms around his neck, burying her face into the crook where his neck and shoulder meet. Not being able to resist, she pressed light kisses to his neck.
⤷ ゛in which you travel together for a little getaway. ˎˊ˗
Notes: Guess who's back, back again. It's short and just the hyung line since I haven't written in god knows how long lmao. Maknae line soon to come if wanted. Also, can someone tell me if certain redirect links on my masterlist aren't working? For some reason I can't click some of them....
Genre: Fluff
Pairing: SKZ Hyung Line x NB!Reader
Warnings: None
Check the masterlist here.
방찬 [BANGCHAN]
⋆ You travel to Milan, Italy together.
⋆ Truthfully you're traveling because he had a brand to work with and you were invited as a plus one, which you didn't mind. You just enjoyed spending time with him and this got you out of the house, away from work.
⋆ He spends half a day shooting photos, videos, interviews - and then you're left to wander the city together.
⋆ Most of your trip is spent doing ... well, mostly shopping. But you're not just spending your his money on beautiful bags or high end fashion, but also on a few good meals.
⋆ He's determined to make sure you are well fed the entire trip and since he's been there a few times before he can recommend some good spots.
⋆ He proposes to you at one of the restaurants you like best two years later.
리노 [LEE KNOW]
⋆ You travel to Hokkaido, Japan together.
⋆ While there you mostly only leave for scheduled events/attractions and for food because he's a little worn out from work so he wants to stay in, but -
⋆ While you're out you end up visiting the Otaru Canal which has a variety of local snacks and treats around that you heavily enjoy. It's probably your favorite part of the vacation.
⋆His, however, is when the two of you decide on the last day to book one more night at the hotel just so you can spend time at the Asahiyama Zoo. Minho's not the biggest fan of the abundance of reptiles there..
⋆ But the penguin parade absolutely astounds him.
⋆ He doesn't know it but you caught him on the way out of the zoo trying to mimic the penguin's waddle - and you may have caught it on video, too.
창빈 [CHANGBIN]
⋆ You travel to the Maldives together.
⋆ Ooookay, part of this is just a ploy so he can show off how hard he's been working on his body. With a bout of extra confidence in 2026 he is determined to show off a little more for you considering he knows you love it so much.
⋆ So yeah, he's shirtless half the time you're there. When allowed. Otherwise he's in tank tops and pretending not to notice your blatant - but respectful - ogling.
⋆ You spend part of the vacation together in the capital city where you explore local markets and eat an abundance of seafood - enough to keep you from eating any more for the rest of the year at least.
⋆ But the real highlight for the both of you was towards the end, where for the last few days you got to spend more time by the water; Snorkeling, receiving spa treatments in rooms with glass flooring so you can peer into the water - and the best part, swimming with Manta Rays.
⋆ Changbin leaves the Maldives with a newfound love for the ocean and you leave with a sudden interest in just how attractive it was when Changbin ushered you into the water - promising everything would be okay - when you were nervous about swimming with the Rays.
현진 [HYUNJIN]
⋆ You travel to Marseille, France together.
⋆ The reason you opted for Marseille over Paris is because, well, one; Hyunjin's been to Paris more times than he can count (pabo) and he wants to try somewhere new. And two; Marseille is the oldest city in France so it has to have something special, right?
⋆ Correct. Full of intricate and beautifully crafted Museums, you spend a lot of your time holding hands and slow wandering through the marble-floored structures. Hyunjin's silent as he stares through every art piece and picks them apart in his head - and you're taking photos any time you catch a particularly cute or astounding angle of your boyfriend.
⋆ Of course you have to try the traditional fish stew, too. While tasty, where are you going to find this good of Bouillabaisse close to home?
⋆ And Hyunjin babbles on and on later as you're packing up to go home about how he found it so lovely that Marseille wasn't as tourist-y as Paris was all of the time; Not constantly packed with people, historic, and so, so beautiful, too.
⋆ Expect to go to a lot of places like Marseille with him. He's in it for the history, beauty, and nature - not the fame.
Hi guys! Thank you so so so much for all the love on each part. I know they're not the best writing, I am still trying to find my writing style and what works and what doesn't. In this part, its really short because I just could not figure out what else to write and I am still pushing off the labor part lol. I might just start writing little blurbs and small ideas that pop into my head.
Word Count: 1017
Chris and y/n walked down the baby aisles of the store. y/n had her arm wrapped around Chris’s muscular bicep. Chris insisted he carry the basket while y/n can pick out anything she thinks they might need before the baby gets here. Now at thirty-nine weeks, y/n still felt that there were a few things the nursery needs, and to just get some small items for the two of them when they have to be up with the baby at who knows what times of night.
“Are there any snacks you want?” Chris asked through fond eyes. He loved it when his wife held onto his arm like this. And being able to see the way she now waddles just slightly, he finds it absolutely endearing. “You know we’ll have to be up all through the night. I want to make sure you get the things you need to stay comfy.” Chris said through a smile.
“I honestly don’t know what snacks I want. But I did want to get a few other items, some diapers, maybe a cute baby wrap? So I can wear him when he’s here.” Y/n said with a shy smile. She could feel herself starting to get misty eyed at the thought of being able to hold her baby. The excitement, fear, but most of all, being able to experience this with Chris.
“I think we have enough clothes and toys for him from my parents, your parents, and the boys.” y/n said as she leaned her head on his shoulder. “Your parents gave us so much stuff. Hannah did get him a onesie that she said he has to wear home from the hospital.” y/n giggled as she looked up at her husband’s faux annoyed face. “It's the one with Curious George on it? I think it’s super cute. He’s going to look adorable in it.” She smiled.
“Oh, really? I didn’t realize she got him that one. She told me she was getting him one that had Finn and Jake, from Adventure Time on it. I’m glad it’s going to be a lot cuter than what she had told me.” Chris chuckled. “Alright, let's just find the wrap, some snacks, and diapers.” Chris smiled down at his wife as he poked her side in a teasing manner.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
“Chrissy” y/n called sweetly. “Chris! It’s time for you to rub the lotion and oil on!” It had become a nightly tradition where Chris would rub lotion and stretch mark oil onto y/n’s bump. Though the task sounded simple and small, it became a time for the two of them to bond more with each other, and with their son.
“Yes, baby! I’ll be right there. Just let me finish locking up.” Chris said as he finished turning the lights off downstairs and locking the doors. This tradition quickly became one of Chris’s favorite things. He loved being able to spend time with his wife, feel her bump, feel their son kick and roll around, and just the overall bonding time that felt almost sacred.
“Alright, where do you wanna do it? Do you just want to sit on the bed and I’ll stand in front of you? What feels most comfortable for you, baby?” Chris smiled at his wife who looked so adorable. She was dressed in one of his big shirts, and her favorite shorts.
“Yeah, I’m good with that.” y/n said as she sat down on the edge of the bed and lifted her shirt. Chris got straight to work. Rubbing the lotion in first, he makes sure he doesn’t miss a single patch of skin. Chris rubs light circles over her bump, working down to her sides, even under her bump.
“I actually look forward to this every night. I love how soft you are, it feels lovely, and baby boy always gets so active when you touch my bump.” y/n giggled.
Chris chuckled as he switched over to using the oil to lock in the moisture of the lotion. He didn’t care if his wife got stretchmarks or not. He found her just as stunning either way. But he would do anything for her, even if he liked the idea of her having stretchmarks. He found it as proof of their shared love. She found it to be more of an insecurity even though she knows she should be proud of them too.
Just as y/n had said, the baby started to kick, roll, and move around as Chris rubbed the oil into her skin. “Woah. Hey there little dude. You’re being awfully active tonight.” Chris muttered as the baby threw a pretty strong kick to the area he just massaged.
Y/n giggled and said, “He is always so active at night and when you talk to him. He just loves his daddy’s voice.” She said sweetly. Y/n had her hand in Chris’s hair. Lightly rubbing and massaging his head as he continued the light circles over her bump and sides.
Chris, being unable to resist, pressed kisses all over her bump. Which made the baby grow even more active. “Oh, man! Look at that! Is that his little foot?” Chris said through a gasp. There was a little bulge coming from the side of her bump, that looked to be a little foot. They both pressed their hands to the spot that the foot had just occupied.
“Baby boy is on one tonight.” y/n said as she smiled down at Chris, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “He’s already moved to the other side of my bump.” She giggled as Chris raced to find the spot his son was occupying next.
“Hey. Now, you be nice to mommy. She has been working very hard on growing you for the past eight months. She has lost so much sleep, had so many back aches, and all kinds of things. Please calm down so she can sleep.” Chris said as he pressed more kisses into her bump.
Soooo this really is just the third trimester of the pregnancy. I just haven't figured out how I want to write the labor section. So there might be four parts... hehe sorry. No, but I really do want to thank you guys for all of the love that I have received on each part. It truly means more than you'll know.
Summary: following y/n and Chris through the third trimester.
Chris walked past the kitchen in search of his wife and he found her leaned against the counters with her head in her hands. “Oh, baby. What's wrong? What’s got my baby so torn up?” Chris hummed as he wrapped his arms around her body.
y/n was in the kitchen trying to find a snack that fit her cravings when she suddenly became overwhelmed by all kinds of emotions. At first, it was exhaustion from being thirty weeks pregnant, not sleeping great, and the bump has just gotten too heavy. y/n then felt an overwhelming amount of love and gratefulness for the fact that she has even been able to be pregnant.
“Ugh, it's been everything and nothing.” y/n sighed. “My bump feels so heavy. I’m hungry but I| can’t figure out what sounds good. I am so tired. And I’ve been so emotional over nothing, which makes me even more irritated. And I just want to be close to you but I don’t want to bother you.” y/n said through her tears.
“Oh, my love. C’mere.” Chris said as he held y/n through her tears. After she finally calmed down, Chris came up with an idea that would hopefully help relieve some of his wife’s pain.
“Why don’t you stand in front of me, with your back to my chest. I’ll hold your bump for a little while, til you start feeling better. And don’t worry about wanting to be around me so much. I actually love it. It makes me so happy that you want to cling to me.” Chris said sweetly as he helped get y/n situated so he could hold her bump and release some of the pressure.
“Oh my goodness. This is probably one of the best feelings in the world.” y/n said through a sigh as she leaned back into Chris’s chest. His large, warm hands, feeling so nice as they hold the weight of their son, while relieving the pressure she was feeling. It was so overwhelming that it made her get emotional all over again.
Chris being the observant man he is, already knew that she would grow to be emotional over him holding her bump,so he started pressing kisses to her head and cheeks. And an occasional kiss to her neck, just to get her to giggle.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
It was 3:27 AM, when y/n woke up. She had a very specific craving for some convenience store snacks. The only problem was that Chris was sleeping. For once. The last thing she wanted to do was wake him up. But these cravings just would not go away.
Although she felt bad, she couldn’t get over these cravings. “Chris,” y/n whispered as she lightly touched his shoulder. “Chrissy, baby, wake up.” y/n said again as she nudged her face into the crook of his neck.
“Mmf… baby…” Chris groaned under his breath, his voice thick with sleep as he rolled over to face his wife. “What's wrong baby? Are you okay?”
Giggling to herself at her husband’s disoriented yet worried state, she caressed his cheek with her fingers. “Uhm. Well. I really want some snacks.” y/n said somewhat quietly as her shyness came to the front.
Chris’s eyebrows creased. “Okay… go get some snacks?”
“No, but I want snacks from a convenience store.” y/n said as she hid her face in his neck, being overwhelmed with love and affection for her husband. “Can we go together and get some snacks? Please?” y/n whined even though Chris could never say no to her.
“Oh fine. Just let me put some clothes on.” Chris sighed as he got out of bed. “I can’t believe you woke me up just because you want snacks.”
Y/n giggled with slight mischief, “Well, you told me that I can wake you up whenever I want or need something. That's exactly what I did.”
“Yeah. I guess I did say that.” Chris sighed as he was throwing on a hoodie. “Alright, I’m all ready. But you can’t go out in just that.” Chris said through a yawn. He then threw a hoodie of his her way.
Once they were finally on their way, hand in hand, though y/n is walking a little slower now, honestly more of a waddle at this point. Chris being the gentleman he is, he slowed his pace to match hers so she wouldn’t feel alone. The streetlights cast shadows and made Chris’s face look even softer and sweet.
“Is there anything you’re looking for, my love?” Chris asked fondly. Looking at his wife with so much love in his eyes. He can’t help but be in awe of her strength. Carrying their child, going through all of the waves of emotions that pregnancy brings, and her fearlessness.
y/n leaned into Chris's side as she tried to think of what her cravings were truly for. “I would really love some sour candy. Ooh, maybe even a slushee?” She said as she smiled up at Chris with lovesick eyes.
Chris smiled down at her and gave her a sweet kiss to her forehead. “Hopefully they have these treats you want so badly. Especially since you woke me up at three in the morning.” He sighed even though he was so glad that she woke him up. He loves spending any time he can with her.
The chime of the bell was a warm welcome as the couple finally made their way inside the local convenience store. Chris grabs the basket and lets y/n lead the way through each aisle to find all the snacks she so desperately craved. He couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at the way she waddled through the aisles of snacks.
“Christopher. What is so funny?” y/n asked through a glare. She had a feeling that she knew what he was laughing about. “Chris. You better not be laughing over the way I’m walking. I’m walking like this because of you.” She said with a huff.
“No, baby. I’m not laughing at you. I just really find you adorable.” Chris giggled. He was consumed with so much fondness for the woman in front of him.
Y/n tossed each snack that she wanted into the basket as Chris followed behind her, getting a few of his own, because he knew she liked when they ate together.
The walk back was a blur of sweet laughter and the crinkle of the bags Chris refused to let his wife carry. As they finally entered their apartment, y/n immediately went to their bedroom to eat the snacks in their own bed, all cuddled up with her pregnancy pillow, and her favorite blankets.
When Chris walked into their room with the bag filled with snacks, he was overcome with so much affection and love for his wife. He thought she looked absolutely adorable all wrapped with her blankets, pregnancy pillow, and dressed in his shirt.
“Here are all of your snacks that you so desperately needed.” Chris said as he dropped the bag of snacks in the middle of the bed. y/n giggled and reached for some sour gummy worms.
He carefully crawled onto the bed, maneuvering around the giant pillow until he could slide his back against the headboard right next to her. y/n didn't waste any time, ripping open the bag and offering him a gummy worm before she even took one for herself. Chris leaned over to take it, his warm hand instinctively coming to rest over the warm curve of her stomach. Just waiting to feel their baby boy kick and move. Chris knew that he tended to be more active during the night.
As if on cue, a nice big kick came right to where Chris's palm laid on her bump. He smiled instantly, not being able to hold back the excitement he felt over his son kicking and moving around. No matter how many times he felt the baby kick, it made him feel a rush of affection and happiness that he wanted to feel for the rest of his life.
As y/n happily munched on all the snacks she insisted they get, Chris watched her through warm eyes that were filled with so much love and joy. The couple spent the next hour or two talking, feeling the baby move, and taking turns feeding each other the snacks. After that, they both drifted off to sleep wrapped up in each other’s arms.
Hi you guys! thank you so much for all of the love on the last part. I have decided to just make three (or more) parts. Not fully sure yet, just kinda doing whatever I feel lol. But I really hope you like this one too! the ending feels kinda rushed but that's bc I was so tired by the time I finished this, that I couldn't think about going to the third tri lol. that will probs be in part 3 along with the birth. but idek.
Summary: Chris and y/n found out they were expecting a few weeks ago. This follows the two of them through the first trimester to the second and all the sweet and exciting things to happen between then.
Ever since Chris and y/n found out she was expecting, they have both been absolutely ecstatic. Chris had been dreaming of being a father since he was a little boy, himself. Y/n had been wanting to be a mother since she was a young girl. While y/n was so excited to be pregnant, the first trimester was giving her a run for her money.
Unfortunately, everything was making y/n queasy. Anytime there was food that could be considered greasy, anything that wasn’t either fruit or coconut ice cream bars with a blue fruit roll up wrapped around it made y/n want to run to the toilet. At this point, y/n was eight weeks along and running off of mints and alcohol wipes to keep the nausea at bay.
Chris has remained supportive through it all. He made sure they were always stocked up on all kinds of fruit, coconut popsicles, and the fruit roll ups y/n requests. He tries everything in his power to keep her comfortable. He has been cooking foods that he knows are beneficial for pregnant women, and that fit the few foods y/n doesn’t retch at.
One thing that surprisingly doesn’t bother y/n is Chris and his scent. With how sensitive she is to foods and most smells, she has become even more obsessed with Chris, and his scent. She feels that she could cling to him the majority of the day and it still wouldn’t be enough for her. Chris is so glad that she wants to be clinging to him so often. He has never once gotten agitated at her clingy behavior. If anything, he encourages her to come with him wherever he goes.
“How are you feeling today, honey?” Chris asked with a slight pull at his eyebrows. He was seated right next to her at their kitchen island. He watched her as she picked around the fruit parfait he made her.
“I feel okay. Still pretty queasy over everything.” Y/n sighed. Then like a flip of a switch she jumped out of her seat and rushed to the bathroom.
Chris let out a sigh that doubled as a slight chuckle. He rushed right after her to hold her hair and rub her back.
“It’s okay, baby. Just let it all out.” Chris hummed. When y/n finally sat up, she nearly collapsed into his chest. Being so exhausted from getting sick over what felt like nothing, for the hundredth time.
“My poor baby. I’m so sorry you feel so sick all the time.” Chris whispered into the back of her head.
“It's okay. I mean, it isn’t your fault… actually, it is your fault, Christopher. You are the reason I’m in this place to begin with.” y/n countered leaning her head up so she could look into his eyes.
“HEY. I remember you sounding like you wanted me to make you a mummy pretty badly that night too. It’s not all my fault. It takes two to tango.” Chris said teasingly.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
It was now into y/n’s second trimester. Y/n is fifteen weeks along. She has been feeling better than ever. Some exhaustion at the end of the day, but hardly any nausea or brain fog. At this point, she is taking everything as a win.
The couple were going to go shopping for some things for the baby. They still have another two weeks until they’re able to find out the gender. Y/n was standing in their shared walk-in closet getting ready for the little day Chris planned. It was when she noticed that her tummy actually seemed like a bump. Still rather small, but anything was so exciting for her.
“Hey, baby. Can you come here for a sec?” y/n called for Chris, who was lying on their nicely made bed playing Genshin waiting for his wife to finish getting ready.
“You alright?” Chris said as he got up and walked the few steps to where his wife was standing looking in the mirror.
“You want to see my tummy?” y/n asked through a grin.
“Yeah, I always want to see it.” Chris said coming up behind her to wrap his arms around her and leaving a sweet kiss on her cheek.
Y/n lifted her shirt and turned to the side in Chris’s arms and showed him the little bump that is starting to form.
“Oh my gosh. Baby! You’re starting to get a little bump!” Chris said through a massive smile. Not being able to resist himself, he reached down and pressed his much larger hand to her bump. While there isn’t much he can really feel quite yet, he is still so in awe of his wife and the fact that she is creating life right there. It is a product of their love, and all the love that came before them to get where they are now.
Y/n smiled sweetly seeing her husband be so excited over her tummy growing. She started to giggle at how giddy Chris seemed. “Chris, you seem more excited over this than anything. Just wait until this little babe starts kicking and moving around.” y/n said while grinning up at Chris.
“Oh, I can’t wait for that to happen. I’m just so excited about every little thing.” Chris says sweetly. He can’t help but bring his wife into a big kiss of excitement and love.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
It’s been a few more weeks since the bump finally started to be more than just a bloat, and has fully popped since. Y/n is now at twenty weeks and a few days. Her bump is still cute as ever and a little shy. While it has popped, it still could be hidden and passed off as eating a little too much.
Y/n had just gotten comfortable against the pillows on the bed, bringing a nice blanket to cover her legs, when she felt some movement coming from her belly. It felt like more than a flutter, but not a full kick.
“Chris!” y/n said in an excitable tone as she reached out to press her hand against her tummy.
Chris came in at the perfect time carrying two mugs of steaming tea. “What, baby! What's wrong? Are you okay?” Chris asked in a rushed tone trying to set the mugs down quickly so he can get to his wife.
“No, I'm totally fine, but I think baby boy is moving. Like, he just kicked.” y/n grinned. “It’s like he’s swimming in there.” she said then gasped and grabbed Chris’s hand to press it to her bump. “Here. Chris, feel him. He’s moving around right here.” she said through a gasp.
“No way! Really?” Chris exclaimed through a smile. He couldn’t stop the wide smile taking over his face as he closed his eyes to really pay attention to his son kicking and moving in his wife’s bump. “This little guy could really be a footballer with the way he’s moving.” Chris laughed under his breath. He couldn’t help but get a little emotional. He had been wanting to be a father for so long. His dream is finally becoming true and now he gets to feel his son move and kick inside the one person he loves more than anything else in this world.
Chris reached for his wife's face and kissed her. When they finally pulled away from each other, Chris nuzzled his nose against her cheek, feeling so overwhelmed with so much love. “I cannot believe this is real life. I have wanted this since I was a little boy. I couldn’t be more glad that I get to do this with you, my love.” Chris said through a smile full of all kinds of emotions.
“Chris. You’re going to make me cry. You know how emotional I’ve been recently. No, but I also couldn’t be more excited that we get to be parents together and that this little boy is proof and a product of our love. I know it’s such a cliche thing to say, but I truly feel like I love you more every day, knowing we’re having a son.”
As the night went on, they both just sat with y/n’s shirt rolled up to watch their baby move and kick. Their teas grew cold as they sat on the nightstand. Both y/n and Chris too distracted to finish them. They were so enraptured with the events of the night, they couldn’t be bothered to do anything else than just sitting there filled with so much love.
