&Team and Wisdom Teeth removals
&Team x gender neutral! reader
Wordcount ≈ 3.5k
Warnings: Wisdom teeth removal, I think that’s it.
Taglist: @voucearse, let me know if anyone else wants to be added to my &team taglist!
Thank you so much for the request! I love this idea! It’s so cute! I hope you’ll enjoy it! Side note, none of this will be accurate for how one of these surgeries is actually done, since I haven’t removed my wisdom teeth yet, even though I definitely should. But I hope you guys can enjoy it either way!
Network: @k-records
Please reblog, comment, and like if you enjoyed!
Koga Yudai / K ~~~~~~~~~~~~
After getting K home, with a lot of help from Fuma, who looked one second away from filming the whole thing for blackmail, he was finally settled on the couch, a blanket tucked around him like he might float away if left unsecured. You were in the kitchen pouring him a glass of water, remembering the doctor’s strict instructions. Even from there, you could hear him. Soft mumbling at first. Then louder. “I miss you… come back to me…” he sniffled dramatically. You paused mid-pour. “I’m literally ten steps away,” you muttered under your breath.
When you returned to the living room, you found him staring at the ceiling like he was in the final scene of a tragic romance drama. You sat down beside him, and immediately, and very clumsily, he rolled toward you. It took him two tries, one failed arm lift, and a confused blink at the coffee table, but eventually he managed to flop his head into your lap. “There you are,” he said, eyes glassy and teary. “I thought you left me.” “I went to get you water.” His bottom lip trembled. “You’re so far away…” “I was in the kitchen.”
He reached up weakly, poking your arm as if to confirm you were real. Then he sniffled again. “I love you so much,” he said, voice thick and emotional. “Like… so much. You’re my whole heart. My everything. My,” He paused. “My favorite human.” You giggled. “You’re usually cheesy, but this?” You brushed his hair away from his forehead. “This is even worse.” He looked up at you, deeply serious despite the gauze in his mouth. “It’s not worse. It’s the truth.” “I love it,” you said softly, leaning down to kiss his forehead. His eyes fluttered shut instantly at the contact, and he let out the most content sigh imaginable as you started playing with his hair. “You’re so pretty,” he murmured sleepily. “You can’t even see straight right now.” “Doesn’t matter,” he insisted, already half drifting off. “I know.” And within minutes, the dramatic love confession turned into soft snoring, his hand still loosely clutching your sleeve, just in case you “went too far away” again.
Murata Fuma ~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fuma had been pacing the waiting room for nearly an hour, pretending to scroll through his phone but rereading the same three messages over and over. When the nurse finally stepped out and called his name, saying you were done and back in the room, he was on his feet instantly. The second he walked in, he knew. Your eyes were open, but they were unfocused, dreamy, like you’d just discovered the secrets of the universe and found them hilarious.
You turned your head slowly when you noticed movement, staring at him in awe. Then you looked at the nurse very seriously. “Why,” you asked, voice floaty and suspiciously loud, “is there an angel standing next to you?” The nurse chuckled. “That angel is your boyfriend.” Your eyes widened. You looked back at Fuma, then immediately hid behind your own hand, as if he couldn’t see you. You leaned toward the nurse to whisper, except it was barely quieter than before. “Is that true?” Fuma bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “Yes,” the nurse said gently. “That’s him.”
You peeked at him through your fingers, then giggled uncontrollably. Fuma walked over, taking your hand carefully. “Hi, baby,” he said softly. “How are you feeling?” “Amazing,” you replied, grinning, your words slightly slurred. You could barely hold eye contact for more than two seconds before dissolving into another fit of giggles. Fuma looked at the nurse. “How long are they going to be like this?” The nurse shrugged. “An hour or two. It’ll ease up.” Fuma glanced back at you, who were now staring at your own hand like it had personally betrayed you, and chuckled. “Oh boy,” he muttered fondly. “This is going to be fun.” Right on cue, you squeezed his hand dramatically. “Angel,” you whispered loudly, “don’t leave me.” He smiled, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “Not going anywhere.”
Wang Yixiang / Nicholas ~~~~~~~~~~~
You sat beside the hospital bed, watching Nicholas sleep. The anesthesia had knocked him out completely; he hadn’t moved in almost an hour, breathing slowly and heavily, completely unaware of the world. Eventually, he stirred. His brows furrowed first, lips pressing into a faint frown, the classic grumpy expression he always wore when woken up too soon. He blinked a few times, adjusting to the light. Then he saw you. And just like that, the grumpiness melted.
His face broke into the brightest smile, eyes soft and unfocused but full of affection. He lifted a hand toward you, aiming for your cheek, and missed entirely, his palm hovering somewhere near your ear. He pouted. “Baby,” he mumbled, words thick and slow. “I love you. You’re so hot.” A pause. “Kiss me? Please.” You bit your lip, trying not to laugh, and gently caught his wandering hand. Leaning forward, you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. He frowned immediately. “No,” he complained weakly, pointing clumsily at his lips. “A real kiss.” “That’ll have to wait,” you said, barely containing your giggles.
His expression crumpled dramatically. He sniffed, lifting a hand to wipe at an imaginary tear. “You don’t love me,” he fake-sobbed. You shook your head. “Nice try.” He paused. Then, completely serious, he looked at you and said, “Meow.” That did it. You burst into loud laughter, clutching his hand. “Damn it, I should’ve recorded that. The guys would’ve loved it.” He pouted even harder, cheeks slightly puffed from the gauze. You leaned closer, kissing the tip of his nose. “You’re my grumpy, cute cat,” you teased. He sighed dramatically. “If I agree… do I get a kiss?” You nodded. He straightened up as much as he could manage, suddenly very cooperative. “Okay. I agree.” He closed his eyes immediately, waiting. Smiling softly, you leaned in and placed a short, sweet kiss on his lips. He hummed contentedly, squeezing your hand. “Worth it.”
Byun Euijoo / EJ ~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nicholas had come along to help you get Euijoo home, which, in hindsight, was the only reason you survived the experience. Sweet, calm, dependable Euijoo? Gone. In his place was pure, anesthesia-fueled chaos. The car ride alone had been a nightmare. Every time another vehicle passed, Euijoo would gasp loudly and grab at the seatbelt. “This is it,” he’d whisper dramatically. “This is how it ends. We’re all dying now.” Nicholas had nearly pulled over from laughing. And when you finally parked? Euijoo refused to get out.
“No,” he said firmly, gripping the door handle like it was the last thing tethering him to Earth. “The ground is suspicious.” “It’s concrete,” Nicholas said. “Exactly.” It took both of you trying to gently pry him loose before you finally sighed and leaned into the car. “If you come upstairs,” you offered sweetly, “I’ll give you cuddles.” Euijoo froze. “…How many?” he asked cautiously. “As many as you want.” He immediately let go. “Okay.” The walk upstairs was wobbly at best. He clung to both of you dramatically, insisting the stairs were “breathing.” By the time you reached the living room, Nicholas practically dropped him onto the couch. “You’re on your own now,” Nicholas said, grinning. “Good luck.”
Once the door shut and you were finally alone, you knelt on the floor beside the couch, leaning over Euijoo. “How do you feel?” you asked gently. He blinked up at you, eyes unfocused. “Shaky,” he admitted. “The room is spinning.” A small smile spread across his face. “But the good thing is… there’s like fifteen of you in here. And nothing could be better.” You couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m going to get you some water,” you said, standing up. The second you turned around, arms wrapped around your waist. Before you could react, he pulled you backward, toppling you gently onto the couch with him.
“You owe me cuddles,” he mumbled into your shirt. You giggled, trying not to squish him. “Oh, I do?” “Yes,” he said very seriously. “Legally.” You relaxed against him. “Fine.” He giggled, actually giggled, tightening his arms around you like you might evaporate. And then he started rambling. “…and there’s this new bakery I saw online,” he slurred softly. “They have strawberry bread. Or maybe it was blueberry. We should try it. Tomorrow. Or next year. Whenever time is real again.” You smiled, running your fingers through his hair as he continued his incoherent bakery monologue, holding you close like you were the only stable thing in his spinning universe.
Nakakita Yuma ~~~~~~~~~
Yuma was fully prepared. Phone in hand. Camera open. Thumb hovering over record. The second the nurse began rolling you back into the room, he hit it. You were mid-rant. “They stole them,” you were saying dramatically, words slightly slurred. “They stole my teeth. For money. I know it. Black market teeth business.” You squinted suspiciously at the ceiling. “My boyfriend is not gonna like this.” Yuma had to physically bite his lip to stop from laughing too loudly. The nurse was smiling too, clearly used to this.
Then you saw him. Your entire face lit up. “Kitty!” you gasped loudly. “Kitty, kitty!” Yuma lost it, laughter spilling out despite his efforts. Even the nurse had to turn away for a second. He stepped closer to the bed. “Hi, love.” “Hihi, pretty kitty,” you replied immediately, reaching toward him with grabby hands. He raised an eyebrow playfully. “Oh? Good to know what you think of me.” You squinted at him, concentrating very hard. “My Yuma. My Yumnangie. My Yukitty.” He chuckled, stroking your head gently. “Yes, yes. Your kitty.” “Pretty kitty,” you added with a pout. He sighed dramatically. “I’m your pretty kitty.” You beamed like he’d just proposed. “Kiss me?” That one made him soften instantly. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, careful and sweet.
When you pulled away, you slowly turned your head toward the nurse and pointed at Yuma. “Can you believe he’s this hot?” The nurse laughed lightly. “He’s out of this world.” You immediately pouted, glaring weakly. You lifted a finger and pointed at the nurse. “Stay in your lane.” Yuma burst out laughing. “I’m so sorry,” he told the nurse quickly. Then he cupped your cheeks gently, turning your face back toward him before you could start defending your territory further. “Hey,” he said softly, smiling down at you. “Focus on your pretty kitty.” You relaxed instantly, staring up at him dreamily. “Okay,” you whispered.
Asakura Jo ~~~~~~~~~~
Jo had taken the dentist’s instructions very seriously. He had notes in his phone. Actual bullet points. “Water immediately. Change cotton every hour. Every thirty minutes if drooling excessively,” he muttered to himself as he helped you inside. “No solid food. Soup only. No sharp objects.” He paused at that last one, glancing at you. On the ride home, you had very calmly announced, “I need scissors.” “For what?” Jo had asked carefully. “To cut you.” His soul had briefly left his body. “Why would you cut me?” You’d blinked at him like it was obvious. “Your hair is growing. I love the undercut. We have to maintain standards.”
So now, as you sat on the couch with cotton pads stuffed in your cheeks like a disgruntled chipmunk, Jo had quietly moved anything remotely sharp out of reach. Despite the anesthesia, you were surprisingly calm. For about five minutes. “Jo,” you said slowly. “Yes?” “The TV is too quiet.” He grabbed the remote. “Okay.” Two seconds later, “Too loud.” “…Okay.” Click. You squinted at him. “Why are you so far away?” He was sitting right next to you. “I’m not?” “You are,” you insisted, frowning. He scooted closer. You immediately leaned back. “Now you’re too close.” Jo blinked. “You just said,” “It’s too dark in here.” He turned on a lamp. You hissed dramatically. “Why is it so bright?” Jo inhaled slowly through his nose. “Okay. Okay. We can do this.”
Every thirty minutes, he gently changed your cotton pads, since you seemed to drool a lot. “Open,” he said softly. You obeyed, then mumbled, “You’re a good nurse.” He smiled faintly. “Thank you.” “And a good hair model,” you added. He sighed. After four long hours, the cotton finally came out for good. You stretched your jaw experimentally. “Oh,” you said, sounding relieved. “That’s better.” “Better?” Jo asked hopefully. “Much.” Your complaints slowly faded after that. Instead, you shuffled closer to him on the couch without saying anything this time, resting your head against his shoulder.
“Jo?” “Yeah?” “You didn’t let me cut your hair.” “No, I did not.” “Good,” you murmured sleepily. “I don’t actually know how.” He let out a quiet laugh of pure relief. You shifted, curling more fully against him. “You did well,” you mumbled. “Thank you for taking care of me.” His expression softened immediately. He wrapped an arm around you carefully. “Of course. Always.” Within minutes, your breathing evened out. Jo leaned his head back against the couch, exhaustion finally catching up to him after hours of adjusting lights, volume, distance, and confiscating scissors. He glanced down at you one last time. “…You’re not cutting my hair, but I’ll find a barber to do it,” he whispered. Then he closed his eyes too, drifting off beside you.
Shigeta Harua ~~~~~~~~~
When Harua was finally called back, he expected you to be sleepy. Maybe loopy. He did not expect tears. The second he stepped into the room, he froze. You were full-on sobbing, clutching the nurse’s arm dramatically. “Where is he?” you cried. “Why did he abandon me? I knew it. He doesn’t love me.” The nurse looked both concerned and mildly amused. Harua rushed forward immediately. “I’m right here,” he said gently. You turned your head. The second your eyes landed on him, your expression shifted, still crying, but now relieved. “There you are!” you wailed, reaching toward him with grabby hands. He carefully untangled you from the poor nurse and took your hands in his. “I didn’t abandon you,” he said softly. “I had to wait outside.” You sniffled loudly, pouting up at him. “That’s what someone who abandons people says.” He couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped him. He leaned down and kissed your forehead. “It’s okay. I’m here now.”
That only made you cry harder. “You love me too much,” you sobbed dramatically. “You’re too good for me.” Harua blinked, then smiled fondly. “I’m not too good for you,” he said. “You’re too good for me.” You smiled through your tears, and then immediately started hiccupping. Violently. The nurse handed you a cup of water. “Here, this might help.” You shook your head stubbornly, turning away. Harua took the cup instead. “Okay,” he said softly, holding it out to you. “Drink a little?” You instantly accepted it from him and took a few sips. The hiccups continued.
Harua sat down in the chair beside the bed, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb as you continued your dramatic hiccup-sobbing combination. “You’re my adorable frog,” he said affectionately. You blinked at him. “Frog?” “Mhm. Cute. A little loud. Very dramatic.” You gasped between hiccups. He grinned. “And I am absolutely teasing you about all of this once you stop being high.” You narrowed your eyes weakly. “You wouldn’t.” “Oh, I would,” he said sweetly. You grabbed his sleeve and hiccupped again. “Don’t leave.” “I won’t,” he promised, letting you cling to him as much as you needed, smiling the entire time.
Takayama Riki / Taki ~~~~~~~~~
“Do you think puppies know they exist?” That was the first thing Taki said when he was rolled back into the room. Not hello. Not where am I? That. You burst out laughing immediately, especially because you were, thankfully, recording. The nurse adjusted his blanket while Taki stared very seriously at the ceiling, clearly pondering the mysteries of the universe. “Like,” he continued slowly, “do they wake up and go… woah. I’m a puppy.” You were practically wheezing. “I’ve never asked one, Taki.” He turned his head toward you with exaggerated slowness. “We should.”
Before you could respond, his expression shifted completely. “Have you ever thought about how yummy cake is?” That sent you into another fit of laughter. “No,” you said through giggles. “I’ve never once thought about it.” He gasped like you’d insulted his ancestors. “It’s so yummy. Especially chocolate cake. Or strawberry cake.” He closed his eyes briefly. “Strawberry cake is elite.” “Elite?” you repeated. “Yes,” he nodded seriously. “Top tier. Legendary.”
Then suddenly, his brows furrowed. “…How long have I been dead?” You blinked. “What?” “I saw an angel.” He slowly lifted his hand and pointed at you. “That’s you. So. How long?” You tapped your chin thoughtfully. “Hmm. I don’t know. Maybe a year.” His eyes widened. “A year?!” You burst out laughing. “No, Taki. You’re not dead. You’re very much alive. You’re just high as a kite.” He stared at you for a second. Then he broke into the dopiest, most satisfied smile. “Hell yeah,” he said proudly. “It feels nice.” You snorted. “I can imagine.” He wiggled slightly under the blanket. “I want cake.” “You just had surgery.” “…Soup cake?” You laughed again, squeezing his hand. “We’ll start with regular soup, okay?” He nodded solemnly. “And then legendary strawberry cake.” “Sure,” you humored him. He sighed contentedly. “This is the best day ever.” You glanced at your phone, still recording, knowing the guys would never let him live this down. “Yeah,” you smiled. “It really is.”
Maus Riki / Maki ~~~~~~~~~
The ride home had been surprisingly peaceful. Maki had slept almost the entire way, head tilted toward the window, mouth slightly open thanks to the cotton stuffed inside. Every now and then, he’d mumble something unintelligible, but otherwise, he was calm. When you parked, you gently shook his shoulder. “Maki, we’re home.” He blinked awake slowly. “Already?” he mumbled, voice thick. “Yes.” He insisted on walking inside by himself. It was a little wobbly, a little unsteady, but manageable. You hovered close anyway, just in case.
Once inside, he sank down onto the couch with a small groan. “My jaw feels weird,” he complained, moving it experimentally. “I can’t feel my tongue.” “That would be the anesthesia,” you said, amused. He squinted at you. “I don’t like it.” “I know.” For about twenty minutes, he stayed calm. You turned on the TV and picked an old Disney classic that the two of you loved, figuring something familiar would be comforting. That was your first mistake.
The second a love song started playing, Maki sat up abruptly. “Oh,” he said. You glanced at him. “Oh?” He turned toward you dramatically. “This is our song.” “It is not.” “It is now.” Before you could stop him, he began to sing. Or… attempt to. Normally, when Maki serenaded you, it was warm and sweet and genuinely beautiful. Right now? With cotton in his mouth and a numb tongue? It sounded like a four-year-old yelling through a pillow. The words were slurred beyond recognition, half of them swallowed, the notes wildly off-key. You stared at him for half a second before dissolving into laughter.He pointed at you mid-song, wobbling slightly. “This is from the heart,” he insisted, which somehow made it worse. You were laughing so hard you could barely breathe, but you still managed to grab your phone and start recording.
He finished the “performance” with a dramatic flourish, completely missing the last note. Then, without warning, he leaned forward and pressed a very sloppy, slightly off-target kiss to your lips. It was messy. It was cottony. It was objectively terrible. But it was also adorable. You pulled back, still laughing. “That,” you said between giggles, “was definitely the most interesting serenade you’ve ever given me.” He grinned dopily. “Did you like it?” “I loved it.” He nodded proudly, then flopped back against the couch. “Good. I’m very talented.” You looked down at your phone, replaying a few seconds of the recording already. “Oh, you are so getting teased for this later.” He just smiled sleepily, unaware of the future embarrassment awaiting him, and reached for your hand as the movie continued to play.
