𝓚𝒶𝓇𝒾 [INDEFINTE HIATUS]

❀ '99ᵇˡᵃᶜᵏ ❀ She/Her ❀

[whitesugarbaybee]

♡hEAd In thE clOUds♡

ᴛʜɪs ʙʟᴏɢ ɪs ᴀ sᴀғᴇ sᴘᴀᴄᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴀʟʟ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀs ᴀɴᴅ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴄᴏɴsɪsᴛ ᴏғ ғʟᴜғғ, sᴏғᴛ ʜᴏᴜʀs ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ᴀ ᴛᴇᴇɴʏ ᴡᴇᴇɴʏ ʙɪᴛ ᴏғ ᴀɴɢsᴛ.

𝓐𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓜𝓮 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 𝓓𝓲𝓼𝓬𝓵𝓪𝓲𝓶𝓮𝓻𝓼

💬📲 🫠❤️‍🔥 🅑🅛🅞🅖🅢 🤳🏽📋 ᎯᎾ3

🤍𝓚𝓪𝓻𝓲🩷

[whitesugarbaybee]

Beyond The Pain

Synopsis: After a misunderstanding tests their relationship, Junhui and his partner find comfort in each other’s presence, learning that healing takes time—but love endures, even through the hardest moments.

Pairing: Radiologist!Junhui x resident fem!reader Genre: Doctor au, established relationship, angst, fluff Word Count: 3.2k Warnings: mentions of medical information, mentions of cheating, a kiss Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional. This fic contains inaccurate medical information and is supposed to be taken as a work of fiction. A/N: Welcome to our sweet pabo Jun’s fic for the Seventeen Med series. You can find the masterpost here.

You and Jun met during your residency at the Seventeen Medical Center. It was a chaotic time, both of you navigating the intense demands of your respective specialities. He had just completed his fellowship in trauma surgery, and you were a fresh resident, eager but still trying to find your footing. The two of you were thrown together on a high-stakes trauma case—patients piling in, the ER frantic, and you both having to rely on each other to make split-second decisions.

Jun’s calm under pressure caught your eye—his ability to stay composed even when things were spiralling. You admired how methodical and caring he was with his patients, even in the most critical of situations. Slowly, a friendship blossomed over coffee breaks and late-night shifts. He’d notice when you were tired and bring you a cup of coffee, or offer advice when you were struggling with a procedure.

One evening, after a particularly rough night in the ER, Jun walked you home, and you ended up on the rooftop of your apartment building, talking about everything and nothing. He confessed that he admired your dedication, and you, in turn, admitted that you found comfort in his presence. The first kiss came that night—soft, tentative, yet full of promise.

After that, your relationship grew quickly. It was easy—comfortable. Jun was sweet and caring, always wanting to make sure you were taken care of, but he also gave you space to breathe and grow. As much as your professional lives were demanding, your time together always felt like a sanctuary.

The pain had started a few weeks ago—just a dull ache in your lower back, nothing too alarming at first. But it had gradually worsened. You tried to push through it, taking a few extra stretches during your breaks and seeing Mingyu for some physiotherapy in the PT room. You didn’t want to worry Jun. After all, he was busy with his trauma surgeries, and the last thing you wanted was for him to distract himself with your problem. But every time you winced from the pain, you’d find yourself hiding it from him.

Jun, on the other hand, had noticed something off. You’d been sneaking off to the PT room and spending longer than usual talking with Mingyu. He trusted Mingyu, of course—Mingyu was professional and a great guy—but he couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. It didn’t help that he’d found you two laughing together in the office, your hand on Mingyu’s shoulder as you shared a quiet conversation. Something about it felt… wrong.

The hospital was in full swing, as usual. Junhui was in the ER, quickly wrapping up a round with one of his patients, a middle-aged man with an apparent leg fracture. The busy rhythm of the hospital allowed Junhui to stay focused, and the moment of quiet was brief but welcome.

His patient, now scheduled for an x-ray, was being wheeled down the hall by one of the nurses. Junhui stood in the doorway for a moment, double-checking the patient’s charts before he heard a familiar voice.

You.

His eyes shifted to see you stepping into the hall, Mingyu walking alongside you as you both made your way to the physical therapy room. You were laughing softly at something Mingyu said, your eyes bright with a warmth he hadn’t seen from you in days. It wasn’t the first time he’d caught you two talking, but for some reason, it felt... off this time. Maybe it was the way you seemed a little too at ease around him. Too familiar.

Junhui stood there for a moment, brow furrowing. He felt a pang of discomfort, a nagging thought bubbling up that he couldn’t quite ignore. But before he could dwell on it, his patient’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“Doctor Wen?”

“Oh, right,” Junhui muttered, shaking himself from his distraction. He quickly turned his attention back to the man in front of him. “We’ll get you taken care of, don’t worry.”

As the patient was wheeled away, Junhui’s eyes darted once more to the hallway, but you and Mingyu were already disappearing around the corner. His heart skipped a beat—he wasn’t sure why, but something about that exchange didn’t sit right with him.

He made a quick decision and walked over to where Dr. Xu was standing, filling out some notes in the hallway.

“Dr. Xu,” Junhui called, voice casual, but there was an underlying edge. He hesitated for a moment, but the curiosity won out. “Doesn’t Mingyu have a girlfriend?”

Minghao glanced up from his chart, blinking in mild surprise, nodded, not missing a beat. “Yeah, his ex-patient. She had a minor neck thing a few months ago. He’s been helping her recover.” He paused, then added with a grin, “Why?.”

“No, I just—” Junhui faltered, then shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “Never mind. I just noticed him with Y/N a lot. Just seemed... I don’t know, a bit too friendly.”

Minghao raised an eyebrow but gave a casual shrug. “You know Mingyu. He’s just a nice guy. Not everything has to mean something, right?”

“Yeah,” Junhui mumbled, but the seed of doubt was already planted. He forced a half-smile, nodding as though everything was fine.

But as he watched Mingyu walk off in the distance, his mind was a swirl of conflicting thoughts. His gut told him something was off—something didn’t feel right, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being left out of something important. He wasn’t the type to jump to conclusions, but the pieces were starting to form in his mind, and none of them were adding up to a comforting picture.

“Focus,” Junhui muttered to himself, shaking off his unease. There was work to do. But in the back of his mind, the question lingered: Was there something more going on between Y/N and Mingyu?

The emergency department was busy, but that was nothing new. You moved carefully around your patient’s bed, adjusting the IV drip with precision. You tried to keep the discomfort from showing, but each movement seemed to take just a little more effort than the last. The ache in your back had worsened again, and you couldn’t seem to find a position that didn’t aggravate it.

As you straightened up after adjusting the drip, you winced slightly, gripping the edge of the bed for support. You didn’t even realize that Junhui had stepped into the room until you heard his familiar voice.

“Hey.” His tone was warm, but there was a hint of concern. “I was just about to grab some food. Come with me?”

You turned and gave him a small smile, masking the twinge in your back. “Yeah, sure. Just finishing up with my patient here.”

Junhui’s eyes scanned you for a moment, his gaze narrowing slightly as he watched you move. You were trying to be casual, but he couldn’t ignore the way you were moving—carefully, deliberately, like each motion took a little more effort than it should.

His brow furrowed, but before he could say anything, you caught his eye and offered a small, reassuring smile. “What about you? How’s your day been?” you asked, trying to distract him with your usual attempt to focus on him instead.

He hesitated for a moment, but then began talking, falling into the familiar rhythm of sharing details about his rounds. “Busy, as usual. I had a couple of patients today, one of them pretty intense, but nothing I couldn’t handle. Just the usual radiology stuff —nothing too major.”

But even as he spoke, Junhui couldn’t help but keep his attention on you. His mind kept drifting back to the way you moved, the careful posture, the way you subtly shifted to avoid putting too much pressure on your back. He wanted to ask if something was wrong, but part of him held back. He’d already overstepped once, confronting you about Mingyu, and he didn’t want to make it seem like he was policing your every move.

He noticed the way you seemed to stiffen when you sat down on the stool beside the patient’s bed, carefully adjusting yourself before settling in. It didn’t escape him. The familiar ache of concern curled in his chest, but he just… kept it to himself.

You watched him quietly, waiting for him to elaborate, but the longer you spoke, the more distant his words seemed. His mind was clearly elsewhere, his eyes darting to you, then back to the floor, and then again to the patient.

Finally, after what felt like a long moment of silence, Junhui shook his head slightly and gave you a half-smile, as if to dismiss his thoughts.

“Anyway, I’ve got a page. Pediatric wing. Looks like I’m on call for the next few hours. We can grab food later, yeah?”

You nodded, relieved that he was distracted enough by his work to not press the issue.

“Of course. Go on, you have your hands full. I’ll be fine.”

He hesitated for just a second, giving you another quick glance before he straightened up. “Okay. But we’ll talk later, alright? Just—try not to push yourself too much, love.”

You gave him a smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes as much as it usually did. “I’ll be fine, Jun. Go take care of your patients.”

He nodded, still staring at you for a moment longer than he probably should have. Then, with a soft sigh, he turned to leave.

As he walked down the hallway toward the pediatric wing, the nagging feeling inside of him didn’t subside. He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d missed something, if there was something you weren’t telling him. The way you were moving... the way you’d been so distracted recently... It all felt like pieces of a puzzle he hadn’t quite figured out yet. But for now, he had to focus on the kids in the pediatric wing.

It was late when Jun found Mingyu in the hallway, just after you had left the PT room. His eyes were hard, his voice tight with tension.

“Mingyu,” he started, his voice low. “We need to talk.”

Mingyu, who had just finished wrapping up a session, looked up, clearly surprised. “What’s up, Jun?”

Jun took a step forward, his hands shoved in his pockets as his gaze locked with Mingyu’s. “What’s going on between you and my girlfriend?”

Mingyu blinked, taken aback. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve seen you two,” Jun continued, the frustration clear in his tone. “You’ve been talking to her in your office, in the PT room. She spends more time with you than she does with me lately. What’s going on?”

Mingyu’s expression softened, realizing what was happening. “Jun, it’s not like that. She’s been in pain—back pain. She came to me because of that. We’re just working on some exercises to help her.”

Jun’s face softened, but the suspicion didn’t fade. “Then why all the secrecy? She’s not telling me anything.”

Mingyu paused, knowing this wasn’t his fight to pick, but still feeling the need to clear things up. “She didn’t want you to worry. She didn’t want to add anything more to your plate.”

Jun’s face twisted in a mixture of guilt and anger. “So that’s it? She’s been sneaking around, and you’re keeping it from me?”

Mingyu sighed, stepping closer. “It’s not like that. She cares about you, Jun. She didn’t want to add unnecessary stress.”

Before Jun could say anything else, the door to the office opened, and you stepped out, your eyes widening when you saw the tension between them.

You felt your heart sink at the sight of the two of them standing there, an unspoken tension filling the air.

“Jun…?” you began softly, trying to diffuse the situation.

Jun’s eyes were narrowed, his posture rigid. “Why didn’t you tell me, huh? You’ve been sneaking around with Mingyu. I thought—” He cut himself off, shaking his head in frustration. “I thought you were cheating on me.”

Your stomach twisted at the accusation, the weight of your secret pressing down on you. You stepped forward, putting a hand on Jun’s arm. “It’s not like that,” you whispered.

Jun’s eyes softened, though the hurt was still there. “Then why all the secrecy?”

You took a deep breath, finally deciding to open up. “I’ve been having some back pain… for a while now. I didn’t want you to worry. I didn’t think it was a big deal, but it’s been getting worse. Mingyu’s been helping me with it.”

Jun’s expression shifted from anger to something else—concern, confusion, maybe even guilt. “Back pain?” he repeated, his voice softening. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to burden you,” you admitted, looking up at him. “You’ve already got so much going on with your surgeries… I didn’t want to add more to your plate.”

Jun’s face softened as he cupped your face in his hands. “You’re not a burden, ever. I care about you. We’re supposed to be in this together. You should’ve told me.”

The tension seemed to evaporate in that moment, but it was clear Jun still needed some reassurance. “I… I was worried.”

“I know,” you whispered, “I should’ve trusted you more. I’m sorry.”

The next day, Jun insisted you get an x-ray with him. You reluctantly agreed, knowing it was the only way to calm his worries. The results showed a minor spinal issue that could be resolved with physical therapy and some rest.

Jun let out a relieved sigh, pulling you into a tight hug. “So, this whole time, you were just trying to protect me from worrying?”

You nodded, resting your head against his chest. “I didn’t want to add to your stress.”

Jun chuckled softly, holding you even tighter. “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

“You’re not,” you replied with a small smile. “Just a little overprotective.”

“Well, I’m just glad it’s nothing serious. And next time, don’t hide things from me, okay? We’re a team.”

“I promise,” you said, looking up at him with a smile. “No more secrets.”

And with that, the misunderstanding was put to rest, leaving you both stronger than before.

It had been hours since the truth had come to light—the x-ray, the back misalignment, and all the tension that had built up between you and Junhui. The misunderstandings were cleared, but the air still felt thick with emotions, each of you processing what had happened. The silence between you two wasn’t uncomfortable, but rather, it was filled with the weight of unspoken apologies.

You and Junhui had found a quiet corner of the hospital—an empty lounge where you could sit without being disturbed. The dim light in the room cast soft shadows across the walls as you sat together on the couch. The hum of the fluorescent lights above and the occasional distant chatter from the hallway were the only sounds that surrounded you.

Junhui was beside you, his arm gently brushing against yours, and yet there was a palpable distance. Neither of you quite knew how to navigate this moment after everything. After the argument. After the confusion. After the truth.

He hadn’t let go of your hand since the moment he found out. His grip was soft but insistent, like he was trying to reassure himself that you were really here, that everything was okay.

“I’m sorry,” Junhui murmured, his voice low. He squeezed your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I shouldn’t have doubted you. I should’ve trusted you more.”

You let out a soft breath, your head leaning gently against his shoulder. “Jun... it wasn’t your fault. I should’ve told you sooner. I didn’t want you to worry about me. But I know now that I should’ve trusted you enough to let you in.”

There was a long pause, both of you simply sitting there, the moment stretching out like a quiet lullaby. Junhui shifted, adjusting his position so that he could face you fully, his eyes searching yours with that familiar softness.

“I can’t believe I jumped to conclusions,” he said, his voice thick with regret. “I let my insecurities take over... and I hurt you in the process. I should’ve asked, instead of assuming.”

You reached out, gently cupping his face in your hands, bringing him closer so that you could look into his eyes. “It’s okay. We both made mistakes. But... I don’t want to hide anything from you again. I want us to be open with each other, no matter what.”

Junhui leaned into your touch, his face softening as his forehead rested against yours. “I never want to hurt you again. I just want to make things right.”

You smiled, but the ache in your back reminded you of the fragile space between you. The pain that had been haunting you, even now. You sighed softly, feeling the discomfort radiating through your body despite the closeness of the moment.

“Jun, I...” you hesitated, your words catching in your throat as you looked down. “I want to be close to you, too. But we can’t really... we can’t do anything like we usually would. It’ll just make the pain worse. I can’t... I can’t handle that right now.”

He pulled back just slightly, concern flashing in his eyes as he looked at you with soft understanding. “You don’t have to apologize, love. I don’t need anything from you right now, but you being okay. I’m here, and that’s enough.”

You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers together. “I just... need some time to heal. But I promise, once I’m better, we’ll get back to where we were.”

Junhui’s lips curled into a tender smile as he kissed your forehead gently. Then, as he pulled away, he softly cupped your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours with a quiet intensity that made your heart flutter. Without a word, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours—slowly, softly, the kiss filled with all the emotions you both had been carrying.

It was brief but meaningful—gentle, full of apology and tenderness, and everything that was unsaid between you. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours.

“I’m here. Always,” he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. “We’ll get through this together.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, the warmth of his kiss still lingering on your lips. In that moment, nothing else mattered. You felt safe, loved, and understood. The pain in your back was still there, but his presence made it feel a little less overwhelming.

You smiled softly, a quiet promise in your eyes. “I know. Thank you, Junie. For waiting. For being patient with me.”

Junhui nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as his thumb gently caressed your cheek. “No need to thank me, love. I’m just happy you’re here. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

And as the two of you sat together in the quiet of the room, it was clear—this was just the beginning of healing, not only for your body, but for the relationship between the two of you. When the time was right, you’d pick up where you left off. But for now, being here in this moment was enough.

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[welcometomyoasis]

Love in Bloom | Boo Seungkwan

Synopsis: Seungkwan always makes it a point to bring fresh flowers to brighten up the Emergency Department every week… or at least that’s the reason he tells himself whenever he visits the hospital’s (very cute) florist. Pairing: ED Nurse! Seungkwan x florist fem! reader (ft. ED charge nurse! Soonyoung, best friend gift shop employee! Vernon’s girlfriend, mention of Psychiatrist! Dokyeom)  Genre: doctor au, fluff | sfw Word Count: 6.1k words  Warnings: mentions of illness/ injuries/ death (nothing explicit or descriptive), emotional distress/ stress of working in an Emergency Department (mention of burn out), pet name (he calls her flower twice, pet names between reader and her bestie), food, harmless teasing and nicknames (between Seungkwan and Soonyoung), low self-esteem (convo between reader and her bestie) Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional. This fic contains incorrect medical information and is supposed to be taken as a work of fiction.  A/n: dedicated to our lovely @wheeboo!!!! happy birthday again rania!!! i hope you had a great day and here's to being in the 20s club! you're going to achieve such great things. ilysm <3 next, a big thank you to @hursheys and @tomodachiii for being so encouraging as i wrote the whole series!! This fic occurs before Soonyoung’s fic, after Dokyeom’s fic, and after Vernon’s fic. The rest of the fics in the Seventeen Med series can be found here. With that, this is the last of the fics I will be writing and posting for this series, thank you all once again for loving the series so much!

There was no point in sugar coating it. 

Working in an Emergency Department was trying, to say the least. Patients who came through the ED’s doors could be in all sorts of conditions. On a good day, many patients only had minor illnesses or injuries. Slap on a bandaid here, administer a little medicine there, and they were good to go. Unfortunately, these good days were few and far between. 

The majority of patients who came into the ED were in serious condition. Any ED staff member would tell you their work was extremely fast paced and stressful. They saw the ugliest sides of mankind, and the worst that life has to offer. Their days (and nights) working in the ED could be characterised by thousands of life threatening injuries, allergic reactions, and serious illnesses. While many lives could be saved thanks to their valiant efforts and the wonders of modern medicine, just as many patients could not escape from the clutches of death. 

Not to mention, working in an ED was a thankless job. They weren’t only treating their patients, but their patients’ distraught or hysterical loved ones as well. The ED staff members were witnesses, participants, and often the so-called “perpetrators” in some of the worst, if not the worst days of people’s lives. Many times, when a patient’s loved one could not handle the stress of the situation they were suddenly thrown into, tensions and emotions would run high in the ED, which meant the staff were usually on the receiving end of many emotional outbursts. 

The ED staff members shouldered these burdens, silently enduring the physical, mental, and emotional stress that came with the job. It was a small price to pay to be on the front lines. If they could have a hand in saving lives, everything they endured was worth it. 

However, just because they silently endured it, doesn’t mean the stress never got to them. 

Having worked as an ED nurse for almost a decade, Seungkwan knew this all too well. He had, afterall, been one of the miserable, burnt out, overworked, underappreciated nurses who still gritted his teeth and went to work day after day. While he enjoyed being a nurse, it came to a point where the sterile white felt dull, and the blinding fluorescent lights in the ED ironically became an omen of darkness and suffering in his life. 

But, everything changed when Seungkwan moved over to Seventeen Med. When Jihoon offered him a new position, one where he could work with his university friends, he accepted immediately. He loved his friends, and he was in desperate need for a change of environment. Who knows, he thought, perhaps he could rekindle the spark he was looking for… perhaps he could come to genuinely find love and fulfillment in doing his job again. 

Seungkwan wanted a change of environment, and he certainly got it. As Soonyoung, Seungkwan’s old friend (and new boss) gave him a tour of the hospital’s premises, Seungkwan looked around, completely awestruck. Seventeen Med was unlike any other hospital Seungkwan ever saw before. Gone were the white walls of his past, replaced by walls painted in pretty shades of PANTONE 13-1520 and PANTONE 15-3919, or rose quartz and serenity respectively. The contrast of the warm pink and cooler blue colours helped to ground people by evoking a sense of tranquility in an otherwise chaotic place. The beautifully coloured walls, coupled with the floor to ceiling windows, dove grey tiles lining the floor, sunbleached wooden furniture, and decor made of crystal, marble or glass, allowed the entire place to feel bright, open, calm, and inviting. In Seungkwan’s opinion, the design of Seventeen Med was less like a hospital, and more of a luxury retreat. 

By the time Soonyoung brought Seungkwan to the Emergency Department where they would be working, Seungkwan felt more refreshed than he had felt in a long, long time. He was feeling excited to begin his new job, and he felt oddly inspired. It was amazing how a change in the colour scheme and decor of a place could impact his mood. He followed Soonyoung into the ED, chattering animatedly about all the ideas he had about sprucing up the place further. Caught up with Seungkwan’s newfound enthusiasm, Soonyoung began rambling along with him. 

“Maybe we can create a tiger themed ED,” Soonyoung said, grinning gleefully. 

“No. That’s so tacky.”

“Seungkwan pppllleeeaasssseeee. Come on, we can get those tiger print blankets.”

“No.”

“Small tiger figurines we can give away to the children.”

“No, you would hog them all.”

“Tiger snacks?”

Seungkwan gave Soonyoung a disgusted look, “Absolutely not.”

Soonyoung’s grin faded into a sad pout. He whined, “Not even tiger lilies?”

Seungkwan was about to immediately reject Soonyoung’s next stupid suggestion, but he held his tongue because decorating the ED with tiger lilies didn't sound stupid after all. Rubbing his chin, he deliberated over Soonyoung’s surprisingly good suggestion, “Tiger lilies huh? You might be onto something. How about we get flowers for the ED? Fake flowers of course, since real flowers pose a risk. We can buy a new bouquet every week to change up the atmosphere. Plus when we change the bouquet, we can give the old ones away to the children.”

Soonyoung nodded, “Yes. We can even set up a small arts and crafts station near the back of the waiting room mended by volunteers to teach people how to make bouquets, paintings, or origami flowers.”

Filled with pride at his own suggestion and Seungkwan’s idea, Soonyoung gave Seungkwan a thumbs up and a smirk, “Okay! I approve of this proposal. Your first task as my second in charge will be to go to the hospital’s flower shop and get some fake flowers for the ED, preferably tiger lilies… They should have it because the shop actually brings in a whole variety of fake flowers as an alternative for those with allergies. We’ll try this idea out for a month, and if it works, you can write a formal proposal to Jihoon to get funding to turn this into a full time project. I would do it, but you know, I’m your boss and you have to listen to me.”

Rolling his eyes and giving Soonyoung a mock salute, Seungkwan turned on his heel to seek out the hospital’s flower shop. 

--⌃⌄-💎-⌃⌄–

Absent-mindedly fiddling with his new staff ID, Seungkwan hummed as he approached the hospital’s flower shop. He would pick up the tiger lilies Soonyoung ordered him to get, albeit begrudgingly, before returning to his post. If he was quick, the whole transaction shouldn’t take more than 15 minutes. 

Seungkwan was sorely mistaken. Upon arriving at the front of the flower shop, he came to an abrupt halt when he spotted you, adorned in your apron and armed with your gardening shears. His breathing hitched, his grip on his staff ID loosening, causing it to fall to the floor with a soft “clank.” Despite there being a vast display of various types of flowers, they didn’t matter to Seungkwan, nor did he pay them any mind. He ignored the regal roses, charming carnations, heavenly hydrangeas, colourful chrysanthemums, ornate orchids, dainty dahlias, and the luscious lilies. Instead, his eyes were completely transfixed on you. 

To him, you were the most stunning flower of all. 

Hearing the sound of something dropping on the floor, you turned to look in that direction. Noticing your stare, Seungkwan blushed and averted his gaze. He bent down, fumbling to pick up his staff ID. Whether it was out of embarrassment, or the adrenaline pumping through his body because he saw just one of the most stunning women ever, he couldn’t get a good grip on his ID. 

You giggled, amused at how adorable Seungkwan’s clumsy movements were. Deciding to put him out of his misery, you crouched down beside him, picking up his staff ID for him.

Curious as to who this butterfingered stranger was, you read off his staff ID, “Boo Seungkwan. RN. Date of Issue? Oh, it’s today. Hey, welcome to Seventeen Med! I’m Y/n L/n, Med’s resident florist. As you can see, I run this flower shop.”

Seungkwan stared at you, wide eyed and very red faced. He stuttered, grimacing slightly at his mistake, “Uhm… Yes… Nice to meet you flower… no sorry. I mean Y/n.”

You flush, clearing your throat to cover up how flustered you really were over his tiny slip up. Hanging him his staff ID back, you ask him kindly, “How can I help you today Nurse Boo? What type of flowers are you interested in? Perhaps a bouquet for a special someone?”

Seungkwan waved his hands in front of his face frantically, “No, no, not for a special someone. I’m looking for a bouquet of fake tiger lilies. It’s for the ED.”

Pretending not to notice the way your heart leaped when he said he wasn’t going to give the flowers to a special someone, you focused on the fact he was looking for tiger lilies instead, “Soonyoung?”

Seungkwan let out an exasperated, exaggerated sigh, “You know about his tiger obsession too?”

You laughed, “Please, the whole hospital knows about it. On his first day of work, he came dressed head to toe in a tiger print jumpsuit. His excuse was that he was going to change into scrubs anyway, so why not dress in something comfortable? I think Mr Xu almost burst a blood vessel when he saw Soonyoung.”

Seungkwan muttered, “You don’t even know half of it. One time, he came to class dressed in a tigger onesie underneath his lab coat.”

You snickered, moving around Seungkwan to get to the flower display. You carefully picked out some fake tiger lilies from the corner, laying them out on the table to be wrapped up into a bouquet. Meanwhile, Seungkwan watched silently as you worked, trying to ignore how the sight of you arranging the flowers and wrapping the bouquet in a soft, delicate piece of paper sent the butterflies in his stomach fluttering wildly. 

After a short while, you handed over the bouquet to Seungkwan after giving the bow a final tug to ensure you tied it securely, “You can transfer the whole bouquet into a dry vase. If the material of the flower petals gets dusty, just use a slightly damp cloth to wipe it off.”

“How much do I owe you for it?”

Shaking your head, you gave him a smile, teasing him, “Don’t worry about it. Since it’s for the ED, this bouquet is on the house. Besides, I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you around more frequently, Nurse Boo.”

--⌃⌄-💎-⌃⌄–

And see Nurse Boo around more frequently, you did, because you became one of the main suppliers for the hospital’s newly implemented “Smile Flower Initiative.”

Built upon Seungkwan’s proposal to start decorating the ED with flowers, the “Smile Flower Initiative” turned out to be a major success. Regardless of how well designed the ED was, how well run the ED was, or how nice all the staff members were, at the end of the day, Seventeen Med’s ED was still an ED. Injuries, illnesses, and distraught and disgruntled people were still commonplace in the ED. Working there was no less fast paced or stressful as working in EDs elsewhere. 

Although a seemingly simple addition to the ED, the flowers worked wonders and there was a noticeable difference in the atmosphere. The presence of flowers helped to significantly improve the mood of staff, patients, and visitors alike. As his friend, psychiatrist Dr. Lee Dokyeom, would explain, flowers release a chemical called mycobacterium vaccae, which signals the brain to realse the “feel good” hormone, serotonin, thereby naturally improving people’s moods. To put it simply, the flowers, yes even the fake ones, brought happiness, serenity, and hope to people, especially in a place like the ED. 

Jihoon signed off on Seungkwan’s proposal to have the hospital fund the flowers for the ED even before the end of the one month trial. He saw how well received the flowers were, and admitted that while real flowers were used as decorations elsewhere in the hospital, he never thought to use fake flowers as a replacement in departments where real flowers were a safety hazard. Seungkwan mentally face palmed at Jihoon’s admission, but preened under his praise. 

Once the proposal was implemented, the ED was soon full of different types of fake flowers. Knitted or crochet flowers, flowers on blankets, pieces of art featuring flowers, etc. Most items were either donated, handmade by volunteers, or funded by the hospital. Seungkwan loved how each item was unique, usually personalised by the person who supplied it to them. He strongly believed the flowers brought more life and colour into the ED. 

Out of everything he saw though, Seungkwan’s favourite types of flower decorations were still the bouquets you would so lovingly arrange and prepare for him every week. Week after week, month after month, Seungkwan would meet you at your flower shop on Mondays at 10.30am sharp to collect the bouquet of the week. He always looked forward to seeing what new bouquet arrangements you prepared specially for him. The excited expressions from his co-workers, patients, and visitors to the ED when they saw the new bouquets were also highly anticipated. 

At least, those were the reasons Seungkwan told himself justify the excited, tingly, jittery feeling he had whenever it was time to pick up the flowers from your shop. As the time approached, he would be overcome with a rapidly beating heart, hot flushes, a wild blush on his face, clammy hands, and sweaty palms. He would feel slightly lightheaded, and yet he couldn’t manage to keep still, like he needed to bounce or jump about to release some pent up energy. 

Despite the many, many times Seungkwan told himself it was simply adrenaline from the excitement of being able to bring joy to the ED, he knew it wasn’t that. He knew the real reason behind his buzzing nerves - you, the flower shop’s (very cute) florist. While he could try to live in denial, it wasn’t lost on Seungkwan that he might have a huge tiny crush on you. 

Seungkwan’s feelings weren’t lost on Soonyoung either. Soonyoung would frequently observe Seungkwan from a distance as he floated off to pick up the bouquet with a spring in his step, and a lovestruck expression plastered across his face. There were so many times Seungkwan tripped over a cart or almost bumped into someone because he was thinking so intensely about you. Seungkwan liked to believe no one saw him fumble about, but Soonyoung was more observant than most people thought. If Soonyoung was being honest with himself, he was tired and fed up that most of his friends were so hopeless when it came to love. For how much crap Seungkwan liked to give Dokyeom for being a trainwreck before the latter began dating his girlfriend, Seungkwan was no better. 

The process of Seungkwan actually accepting that he did in fact have a crush on you was rather long and arduous, much to Soonyoung’s chargrain. But, Seungkwan was eventually able to accept his feelings for you, and not a moment too soon because Soonyoung was about to start screaming his head off from exasperation. 

Fortunately for Soonyoung, before he worked himself up into having a terrible sore throat, Seungkwan sought him out one day asking for a pleasantly surprising favour.

“YOU WHAT???” 

Seungkwan’s hands flew up to protect his ears. He gave Soonyoung a death glare, “You don’t need to screech in my ears, you hamster face. Did you not hear me? All I asked was if you could do me a favour and cover my shift next Sunday so I can take Y/n out on a date.”

Soonyoung brought his hand to his face, pretending to wipe away his fake tears, “Yea I heard you the first time. I’m just so proud of you. My little shriveled up tangerine tree, you bore no flowers, leaves, or fruit, for your dead roots never found a pool full of love to drink from. Now, you’ve found it, you’re finally growing up, heart open, leaves sprouting. You’re ready to love so go forth, and let your flowers, drinking hungrily from the pools of love, bloom. BLOOM I SAY. BLOOOMMMMMMMPPPHJHHHHHHHHHH.”

Soonyoung’s enthusiastic monologue was cut off by Seungkwan clamping his hand over Soonyoung’s mouth tightly, “I take it that’s a yes?”

“MMMHSMMM.”

“You’re going to cover my shift? So I can go on my date?”

“MMMHSMMM. MMMHHHMMM.”

Seungkwan, satisfied by Soonyoung’s answers, released his grip on the elder. Soonyoung grumbled, “You ask me for a favour, I grant you what you want, and this is how you treat me. Woe is me.”

Seungkwan shrugged, “You were the one being overdramatic.”

Rubbing his sore chin, Soonyoung retorted, “You can’t blame me. You were pathetically pining over her for months now, and now out of the blue you ask me to cover your shift because you’ve finally asked her out and she agreed to go on a date with you. Can’t a guy be happy for his friend?”

Seungkwan paled, the words “you’ve finally asked her out and she agreed to go on a date with you” echoing through his head repeatedly. 

Noticing Seungkwan’s unusual silence and lack of a snarky comment, Soonyoung looked at him questioningly, “Uhm… you have asked her out right? That’s why you’re asking me for the favour? Because you asked her on a date and she said yes?”

Alarmed, Seungkwan shrieked, his hands flailing all over the place as he dashed out of the ED, “Wait. Wait… WAIT. YOU’RE RIGHT. I NEVER ASKED HER OUT TO BEGIN WITH!”

Soonyoung reached out to grab Seungkwan’s shirt, wanting to stop him from rushing off halfway during a shift, but he missed it by an inch. Completely bewildered, Soonyoung stood motionless in the corner of the ED. He opened his mouth to try to say something, only to close it again. After what seemed like an eternity, Soonyoung finally processed what he saw and leaned against the nearby wall for support. He exhaled shakily, “Whooo boy, and I thought Dokyeommie was helpless. Seungkwan, he’s on a whole other planet.”

--⌃⌄-💎-⌃⌄–

Meanwhile, you were assisting your best friend at the hospital’s gift shop. 

“My angel, do you think these orange petunias would go with the new shipment of teddy bears?”

Your best friend lightly pinched your cheek, “Munchkin. Orange flowers with those purple teddy bears? I don’t see why not. Go for it.”

You squealed, immediately grabbing a teddy to try and put together a cute teddy flower bouquet. As you picked out new flowers for the bouquet, your best friend worked on a new gift basket arrangement. You worked in comfortable silence for a while, but your best friend soon grew bored.

With an evil glint in her eye, she abandoned the gift basket, propping herself up on her seat. Leaning in towards you, she asked, “Sooooooo. How’s your Boo?”

You rolled your eyes, “I should be asking you how’s your dating life now you’re with Dr Chwe.”

Unimpressed, she retorted, “At least I have a dating life babie. Nurse Boo and you should be dating by now. Go and ask him out on a date.”

“I don’t have the guts to ask someone out and you know it. Besides, what if he says no? He’s Nurse Boo. I’m sure he’s surrounded by pretty nurses and doctors all the time. Why settle for me?”

Your best friend reeled back, placing a hand over her heart, “EXCUSE ME? Settle for you? Babie. Munchkin. My love. My heart will die if you say that. Anyone who cannot see how amazing you are needs to get their brain checked. You’re more than enough so don’t doubt yourself like that.”

Fiddling with the finished teddy flower bouquet, you nodded shakily. 

Your best friend patted your head, swiveling your seat around to face the shop’s entrance, “Good. Now. Once again, you’re more than enough. I can see that, and Nurse Boo definitely can see it too.”

From your position, you could see Seungkwan frantically looking around your flower shop calling out your name. You stared in shock as you felt your best friend gently nudge you forward and out of her shop, guiding you towards him. 

Your best friend cheekily called out, “Delivery for Nurse Boo!!”

Snapping out of your daze, you glared at her as she retreated back into the gift shop howling with laughter. 

You muttered an apology to Seungkwan, awkwardly asking, “Sorry about that Seungkwan. Is there anything I can help you with today? Do you need a new bouquet urgently?”

Face flushed and ears pink, both from being out of breath and from what he was about to do, Seungkwan shifted around a bit, wringing his bands, “Uh. Yea, there is something you can help me with… Would you… umm, happen to be free next Sunday? For a date, with… me?

Seungkwan was asking you on a date. Next Sunday. Just the two of you. You and him. Together. Alone. On a date. Romantic date. Date with Seungkwan. 

Letting Seungkwan’s question sink in, you squeaked, hiding your warm face behind the teddy flower bouquet you were still holding. Through the gaps in the flowers, you could see Seungkwan’s eyes sparkle with apprehension, and more importantly, hope. Your heart fluttered with the same adoring feeling you had whenever you saw flowers swaying gently in the wind. 

Seungkwan wanted to go on this date with you. 

Somehow, that realisation made your grip on the bouquet grow tighter, and you refused to meet his eyes. 

Standing opposite from you, Seungkwan’s hope was beginning to falter. With you hiding behind the bouquet, he was unable to read your reaction properly. Were you shy because of the question? Was he weird? Were you so turned off by the idea of having to go on a date with him you hid behind your flowers? Beads of sweat rolled down his face, he gulped, sucking in a deep breath, about to try to cut through the uneasy, uncomfortable tension by telling you it was okay if you didn’t want to you know? There was no pressure at all.

“NURSE BOO, YOU BROKE HER. BUT Y/N WOULD LOVE TO GO ON A DATE WITH YOU. GO ON Y/N SAY YES. GET YOUR MAN.” Your best friend, who was finally unable to take the silence anymore, screamed from the gift shop.

You quickly lowered the bouquet, giving Seungkwan a reassuring, albeit sheepish nod, “Yes yes. What she said. I would love to go on a date with you Seungkwan.”

Relieved, Seungkwan let out the breath he was holding in, “Oh thank the heavens. I’ll pick you up next Sunday. Say, 11am?”

You smiled, hugging the bouquet closer to your body, “11am sounds perfect.”

--⌃⌄-💎-⌃⌄–

If there was one word to describe how Seungkwan felt last week after he actually asked you out on a date and you said yes, it would be “perfect.” Everything was perfect. While he was apprehensive about the date, he was more excited than anything else. He spent the week agonising over every inch of his plans, the places to bring you, food to eat, conversation topics. Everything was going to be perfect. It had to be, for you. 

Alas, when perfection is what is highly sought after and anticipated, reality always falls short of it. Fast forward one week, and the one word to describe how the date was going now was “disaster.”

Seungkwan’s original plan was to pick you up at 11am, drive two hours away to a pretty flower field you mentioned in passing one time during your previous conversations. You would have a quiet lunch at the restaurant overlooking the flower field before roaming around and taking in the sights for a few hours. Should you feel parched or tired halfway, there was also a cafe on the edge of the flower field where you could have some tea. During the drive back into the city, you would stop by another restaurant serving your favourite dish. If all went well, he would have you home safely by 9 or 10pm. 

Unfortunately, Seungkwan’s plans were derailed one by one, and soon the perfection he was aiming for was nothing more than a fleeting dream replaced by this disaster of a date. 

Absolutely nothing went his way. In the morning, Seungkwan’s car wouldn’t start when he prepared to head over to your apartment to pick you up. By the time he managed to get a hold of a mechanic to jump start his car, he was over an hour late. Despite your reassurances that it was okay to reschedule the date, Seungkwan was stubborn. He wasn’t going to let this little setback ruin the perfect day he so meticulously planned. 

The drive to the flower field started out lovely. There was a lot of talking, and even more laughs. Everything was looking up for Seungkwan, but as the saying goes, “when it rains, it pours.” In this case, quite literally. What began as a sunny day turned into a dark, gloomy, overcast one as rain began pelting down harshly on the ground. Nevertheless, Seungkwan insisted on moving forward with his original plans. Sudden showers weren’t uncommon during this time of the year, and perhaps the rain would clear up by the time you arrived at your destination. 

When you finally arrived at the flower field, the rain stopped, but Seungkwan’s good spirits were dashed by further setbacks in his plans. The restaurant regretfully informed Seungkwan that you had missed your reservation, and because you arrived 2 hours late, the restaurant was now closing for the afternoon. To make matters worse, the flower field which housed the cafe, was also closed due to flash flooding from the rain. 

Seungkwan’s shoulders slumped as his last rays of hope were dashed. So much for the perfect date. This date could possibly have been the worst date you had ever been on. Throughout the day, you had been reassuring him that you could always reschedule the date, or spend the day at a cafe in the city. And when he insisted on going through with his plans, you never once objected to them or complained about his stubborn nature. He felt like the biggest fool of the century. In his mission to plan the perfect date for you to make you happy, he ended up ruining the entire date. Although you didn’t show any indication of it, he was sure you were having a horrible time and would never want to go out with him ever again. 

You observed Seungkwan silently from the passenger’s seat of his car. His dejected, dull, downcast eyes told you everything. He was full of regret and disappointment at how the day turned out. Worst of all, he was most disappointed with himself. He blamed himself for ruining the day and was chastising himself internally.

You nudged him gently, “Seungkwan, it’s kind of late now and we both haven’t eaten since this morning. How about we turn around and head back into the city? I saw a burger place on the way here. Maybe we can grab some? I know you like burgers…”

By requesting something from Seungkwan, you hoped you could pull him out of his fixation on the ruined day. Seungkwan was a giver, someone who was always ready to help others. You had a hunch that by giving him something else to focus on, he would shift his attention onto how he could best carry out your request to satisfy you. Your hunch proved to be correct. A deep frown was still evident on Seungkwan’s face, but he visibly relaxed at your request. 

The drive to the burger place was silent and slightly tense. Seungkwan’s mind was muddled up with countless thoughts. What should he say to you? Were you mad at him for this ruined date? He practically wasted your time when you could have been at home, warm and well fed. He would obviously have to apologise, but how? He continuously grabbed at the steering wheel as he glanced at you nervously from the corner of his eye. You didn’t look the least bit upset. In fact, you appeared to be quite content with gazing out the window at the passing scenery. That was a good sign right?

As the burger place came into sight, Seungkwan’s stomach growled, cutting through the silence in the car. You snickered at him, “Looks like someone is hungry. Let’s go and get some food for you.”

Knowing Seungkwan was trying to make himself feel better just as much as he was trying to make the day up to you, you didn’t bother arguing with Seungkwan when he insisted on paying. You could always treat him to a meal another time. 

A little while later, Seungkwan returned with your meals and you both dug in hungrily. There was nothing like a warm meal on a cold and wet day. 

“I’m sorry.”

At the sound of Seungkwan’s voice, you retracted your hand from your french fries. Ah, so the time had come. 

You asked him gently, “Whatever for?”

Poking at his burger, Seungkwan murmured, “For ruining the date. I’m sorry I ruined it. Everything was supposed to be perfect. I wanted this date to be perfect for you so you would be happy and instead I ruined it. It was a total disaster.”

You shook your head, “Seungkwan. In my opinion, this date was perfect. So what if our plans were derailed. I’m still enjoying this date with you immensely.”

Seungkwan’s eyes widened in shock. He sputtered, “You mean… you’re not disappointed or upset at me?”

“Is that what you think?”

“Yes.”

You softened, your heart breaking at his self-reprimanding tone, “Am I disappointed the flower field was closed due to flash floods? Yes. But am I disappointed and upset at you? Absolutely not. You couldn’t have predicted what would happen today. You planned a wonderful day for us and I am grateful to you for that. Besides, despite everything you still tried your best to ensure the date was perfect. It was perfect, and still is. Spending this precious time with you is more important to me than anything else. How else was I supposed to learn you were in a comedy group named BooSeokSoon in college along with Nurse Kwon and Dr. Lee?”

Seungkwan’s head lifted and his frown morphed into a proud smile, “Comedy slash singing group. We wanted to bring smiles to everyone around us. I guess you’re right. This time I spent with you is precious.”

You smirked, “Of course. I wouldn’t want to spend my Sundays in a random burger place with anyone else but you.”

Content with the way Seungkwan’s mood was lifted significantly, your heart swelled with pride as you gazed at him fondly. This was the man you came to adore over the past few months. The man who was selfless, who always sought to do his best for everyone else around him just so he could uplift their moods and bring them happiness. Even when he wasn’t doing much, his smile and presence alone could brighten up the whole room, a feat not many were able to achieve. You saw the warmth surrounding his heart, his patience, kindness, and gentle actions towards others, which were always carried out with such attention to detail and love. Boo Seungkwan was the epitome of a nurse and he set the standard for what kind of human you aspired to be. 

Musing over the wonderful being that was Seungkwan for a moment longer, you couldn’t help but blurt, “You’re such a kind person Seungkwan.”

Caught off guard by your compliment, Seungkwan stammered, “What… what brought this compliment about?”

You shrugged, “I was thinking about you. All the things you do to make others smile, bring them happiness. Your whole “Smile Flower Initiative” for instance, or the date you planned today. Oh and don’t think I don’t see you regularly buying coffee for the staff and volunteers who work at the ED, or the way you sometimes get those small tiger pins from the gift shop to give to Nurse Kwon. I’ve also heard stories about how you would work frequently overtime at the ED because some of the elderly regulars are most comfortable around you. One time, I heard from my best friend that you spent the whole night singing to one of the children who was going to undergo an orthopedic surgery. Hospital regulation stated his parents couldn’t be there, and so you stayed with him until he went in.”

Seungkwan grumbled, “Vernon has a big mouth for someone who talks so little sometimes.”

You snorted, “My point being. You’re always putting other people’s happiness first. But what about you? What are some times you like to do which brings you happiness?”

Stirring his drink, Seungkwan wrecked his brain for an answer, “I like talking to the people at the ED, and spending time with the elderly in the geriatric ward. To be able to speak to them outside of when I’m working is fulfilling for me. It humanises them in a way, helps me to see them as individuals, it reminds me how important my work is to helping them get back on their feet. Working in the ED can be tiring, but it is refreshing to finally feel fulfilled and passionate about my job again.”

Cheekily chucking a french fry at Seungkwan, you pressed him further, “As nice as all that is, I mean what are some things you like to do outside of work to decompress? What are some things you like to do for you?”

Pushing around the empty wrappers on the table, Seungkwan’s smile faltered. Yea, what has he done for himself lately? At his previous hospital, he didn’t have the luxury to even think about having time off for himself. When he went home, he would shower, eat, and go straight to bed. Now, he had more downtime, but what did he decide to do? Throw himself into doing more work because he was caught up in his renewed passion for his work. Today was probably the first day since he began working at Seventeen Med where he took a full day off work. Hell, he couldn’t remember the last time he spent a day doing absolutely nothing. 

“Hmm. What are some of your hobbies?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Without hesitation, Seungkwan declared smugly, “I love badminton. I used to play in a team recreationally on weekends, and I was good.”

“Favourite food?”

“Jokbal, braised pigs trotters.”

“Favourite places to visit?”

“The beach just off the road from the Caratland theme park. Years ago, I used to spend my days off feeling the sea breeze in my hair and blowing on the dandelions.”

Clapping your hands together gleefully, your eyes sparkled in excitement, “Okay! That settles it. If you’re okay with it, for our next date, we can play badminton in the morning, have Jokbal for lunch, and then visit the beach, make wishes on dandelions, and have a simple picnic for dinner while watching the sunset!”

Seungkwan’s eyes widened, “Next date? You want to go on another date with me?”

Tilting your head questioningly at Seungkwan, you exclaimed, “Of course I would! Uhm, only if you want to?”

Overcome with emotion, Seungkwan shot out of his clair and walked over to sit next to you. He gazed into your eyes, brushing your cheek lightly with his hand, “Earlier, you asked me what are some things I like to do that bring me happiness. I think I have something new to add to my list.”

You shuddered under his soft, feathery touch, “And what would that be?”

Intertwining his hand with yours, Seungkwan whispered, “That would be going on many, many dates with you, my beautiful flower.”

--⌃⌄-💎-⌃⌄–

The following day in the break room, Soonyoung scuttered around Seungkwan, probing him for details on his date, “So, how was the date?”

“It was a total disaster. Nothing went according to plan.”

Patting Seungkwan on the back empathetically, Soonyoung comforted him, “I’m sorry to hear that…”

Recalling the events of the previous day, Seungkwan sighed blissfully, “Don’t be. It was the best date I’ve ever been on.”

Watching Seungkwan strut out of the break room, Soonyoung shrugged. He was confused but he would accept the answer. Who was he to question his friends’ weird love lives?

Because love was in bloom, and that was the most important point.

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[whitesugarbaybee]

everything is okay

[whitesugarbaybee]

Pj's and Forever with you | L.MK

Pairing: Fiance!Mark x Fiancé fem!reader WC: 1K

Mark came home late that evening, his footsteps light as he entered the apartment. The faint glow of your bedside lamp was the only light in the room, and he saw you curled up under the blankets, half-asleep.

You stirred as he walked in, your soft "Hey, baby," making him smile despite the long day he'd had.

He set his bag down and immediately made his way to the bed, climbing in beside you. The warmth of your body under the covers was all he needed to feel at peace. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest.

"You okay?" you mumbled, your voice laced with sleep.

Mark hummed in response, resting his chin atop your head. "Yeah. Just tired. But being with you makes it all better," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

For a while, there was silence, the sound of his steady breathing mixing with the soft hum of the heater. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he whispered, "You know what, babe?"

"Hm?" you replied, your eyes still closed, feeling the soothing rhythm of his fingers drawing circles on your arm.

"I don't think I want to wait anymore," he said softly.

That woke you up. You tilted your head up to look at him, his face barely illuminated in the dim light. "What do you mean?" you asked, your voice clearer now.

Mark exhaled, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "I mean all the glitz and whistles. The big wedding, the planning, the waiting. I just... I don’t care about all that right now. I care about you. About being with you. For the rest of my life."

Your breath caught in your throat as he continued.

"Every day, I come home, and I see you, and it just hits me how lucky I am. And I think... why wait? Why not just do it? Marry you right now. Like, tomorrow if we could." His voice was filled with so much sincerity, it made your heart ache in the best way.

"Mark..." you whispered, your hand reaching up to rest on his cheek.

"I'm serious, baby," he said, his lips brushing against your forehead. "I don’t need anything fancy. I just need you. I’ll go wherever you want, however you want. The courthouse, the backyard, anything. As long as I get to call you my wife."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you gazed up at him, your heart swelling with love. "I... I don't know what to say," you admitted, your voice trembling.

He chuckled, his own eyes shining. "You don’t have to say anything. Just think about it. But I mean it, babe. I’ll marry you in pajamas if it means I don’t have to spend another second wondering when."

You laughed softly, leaning up to kiss him, your lips lingering on his. "You’re unbelievable, Mark Lee."

"And you’re irresistible," he teased, brushing his nose against yours. "So... courthouse tomorrow?" he asked, only half-joking.

You giggled, burying your face in his chest. "Let me sleep on it, fiancé."

Mark wrapped his arms around you tighter, his grin evident even in the dim light. "Deal. But just know, I’m ready when you are, baby. Always."

And with that, he held you close, the two of you falling into a peaceful silence, knowing that whatever the timeline, your forever had already begun.

The morning light filtered through the curtains as you stirred, blinking awake to find Mark still sound asleep beside you. His hair was messy, and his lips were slightly parted, soft breaths escaping as he rested. You stared at him for a moment, your heart swelling with an overwhelming sense of love.

His words from the night before echoed in your mind: “I’ll marry you in pajamas if it means I don’t have to spend another second wondering when.”

You glanced at the clock. It was early—too early for most things. But the thought that had taken root in your mind felt so right. Screw waiting. Screw the big plans. He wanted this, and so did you.

With a soft smile, you leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. “Mark,” you whispered, gently shaking him. “Wake up.”

He groaned softly, squinting his eyes open. “What time is it?” he mumbled, his voice raspy with sleep.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, grinning as you sat up. “C’mon, baby. Let’s go to the courthouse.”

Mark blinked at you, clearly trying to piece together your words. “What?”

You climbed out of bed, still in your cozy pajamas, and stood at the edge of the bed. “I’m serious. Let’s get married. Right now. Just like you said—no whistles, no planning. Just us.”

Mark sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes as he processed your words. Then, a slow smile spread across his face, lighting up his entire expression. “You’re not joking?”

“Not at all,” you said, your voice steady. “I don’t care about the dress or the venue or anything else. I just want to be your wife, Mark. Let’s do it.”

He stared at you for a moment, his heart clearly racing as he threw the covers off and jumped out of bed. “Are you sure?”

You laughed, grabbing his hands. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Mark’s face split into the widest grin you’d ever seen. “Alright, then. Let’s do it,” he said, pulling you into a hug so tight it lifted you off the ground. “In our pajamas?”

“In our pajamas,” you confirmed, giggling against his chest.

He let you down and immediately started rushing around the room, pulling on some slippers and grabbing his phone. “Do we need anything? Our IDs? A witness?”

“Probably our IDs,” you said, still laughing at his excitement. “And I’ll text Haechan to meet us there—he’d never forgive us if we didn’t.”

Mark nodded, practically vibrating with energy as he grabbed his wallet and jacket. “Alright, let’s go, Mrs. Lee.”

The sound of that name made your chest flutter, and you followed him out the door, hand in hand. You were both in mismatched pajamas, slippers, and bedhead, but you couldn’t care less. It was perfect.

By the time you arrived at the courthouse, Haechan was already there, groggy but grinning as he held up his phone for a selfie. “Y’all really dragged me out of bed for this, huh? In my sweats?”

“You love us,” Mark said, clapping him on the back.

“Yeah, yeah,” Haechan said, rolling his eyes. “Let’s get you hitched.”

The ceremony was short, simple, and filled with laughter. As you said your vows, still in your pajamas, you couldn’t stop smiling, knowing that this was exactly how it was meant to be.

When the officiant finally declared you husband and wife, Mark pulled you into a kiss that left you breathless, his hands cradling your face as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

Haechan cheered obnoxiously in the background, snapping photos on his phone. “Pajama power couple! NCTzens are gonna eat this up!”

But you didn’t care about anything else at that moment. You were Mark’s, and he was yours.

Forever started right there, in slippers and love-filled chaos.

Masterlist

[whitesugarbaybee]

Code Blue

Synopsis: A trauma surgeon and a paramedic navigate a no-strings arrangement that unravels when buried feelings surface. Between passion and fear, they learn that love can be the most complicated emergency of all. Pairing: Trauma surgeon!Seungcheol x paramedic fem!reader Genre: Doctor au, fwb2lovers, angst, crack, fluff, a lot suggestive Word Count: 9k (he's my bias, duh😅) Warnings: mentions of medical information, teasing amongst friends, kissing, prescription meds abuse, negligence Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional. This fic contains inaccurate medical information and is supposed to be taken as a work of fiction. A/N: Welcome to our smexy Cheollie fic for the Seventeen Med series. You can find the masterpost here.

Meanwhile, in a quieter corner of the hospital, Seungcheol stepped into a dimly lit supply room. The air was thick with the smell of antiseptic, and the low hum of the fluorescent lights did little to drown out the pounding of his heart. A figure was already waiting—you, in your paramedic uniform, looking as crisp and composed as ever, though there was a flicker of something else in your eyes—annoyance, perhaps, but also something else. Something that mirrored his own feelings.

“You’re late,” you said, your arms crossed in that familiar stance that always made him feel like he was about to be reprimanded. But there was no anger in your voice, only the slightest trace of impatience.

“Busy saving lives,” Seungcheol replied with a smirk, his voice low, the usual sarcasm there to mask the discomfort bubbling underneath. It wasn’t about being late—it was about the moment. The tension that had been building between you two for weeks now, and how it felt like the only thing holding you both together was a thin, fragile thread.

You stepped closer, and that damn thread snapped. In an instant, Seungcheol’s hand reached out, brushing against yours, the contact electrifying, both a comfort and a danger. His pulse quickened as you didn’t pull away, as your fingers barely hesitated before intertwining with his.

“You need to stop this,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, yet it carried the weight of something that had been unsaid for too long.

Seungcheol’s gaze flickered to your lips, then back to your eyes. He couldn’t help himself. “Do you want me to?” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, both a question and an invitation.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the silence between you two heavy with anticipation. But as your hand tightened in his, and your breath hitched ever so slightly, Seungcheol knew—he had already crossed the line.

But it didn’t matter. Neither of you could stop now.

The line between responsibility and desire was already blurred, and nothing was going to erase the unspoken understanding that had quietly bloomed between you two.

You didn’t answer right away, but the way you looked at him—those sharp eyes, softened with something vulnerable—spoke louder than words ever could. In that moment, Seungcheol couldn’t help but wonder if you had already known this was coming, if you’d felt it too.

His fingers tightened around yours as you drew a breath, stilling in the tension of the space between you. You took a step closer, and he caught the scent of your perfume, faint but intoxicating. The urgency in the air was undeniable now.

“You’re making this harder,” you whispered, voice shaky but determined.

Seungcheol let out a low chuckle, his breath hitching with the way your bodies were pressed so close, a proximity that had always felt too dangerous but never more so than now. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to make anything harder,” he teased, but even to him, the words sounded different—charged with something deeper.

He watched as your lips parted, then closed again. A moment of hesitation before you lifted your hand, tracing the line of his jaw with the gentleness of someone trying to figure out if they could truly trust their instincts. Seungcheol’s heart raced. He wanted to close the gap, to bridge that space between you that was driving him wild, but he needed to know—was this just a fleeting, heat-of-the-moment thing for you, or something more?

You leaned in, your breath mingling with his, and for a brief second, it felt like everything else in the world had stopped. Time, responsibility, the hospital—it all disappeared into the silence of the room, leaving just the two of you and the undeniable pull between you.

Then, without warning, your lips brushed against his in the softest, most tentative kiss. It was barely a kiss at all, just a whisper of what could be, a question of if you should. And yet, the moment it happened, everything Seungcheol had convinced himself was simple—casual—was shattered.

You pulled back slightly, your face inches from his, and the vulnerability in your eyes was unmistakable. “Is this what you want, Seungcheol?” you asked, your voice steady but betraying a hint of uncertainty.

It was a question that struck him to his core, pulling him from the fog of desire and forcing him to confront what he hadn’t allowed himself to admit. For the first time, he didn’t know what he was supposed to say.

His heart hammered in his chest as he searched your face for any sign of doubt. There was none. Only raw honesty.

“More than anything,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, but firm in its truth.

The history between Seungcheol and you had always been a delicate balance of professional respect and unspoken attraction. From the first time you crossed paths in the ER, there was something electric in the air. You had been a paramedic for years, someone who knew how to handle high-stress situations with ease, and Seungcheol admired that. His admiration was more than just professional—there was something about your confidence, your no-nonsense attitude, and the way you carried yourself that had caught his attention from day one.

At first, it was subtle. A shared glance across the trauma bay. An exchange of words during a particularly hectic shift. You were both used to the pressure, and there was a mutual understanding between the two of you, an unspoken bond forged in the chaos of saving lives. But there were moments—tiny, almost imperceptible ones—that left Seungcheol questioning whether there was more beneath the surface.

You were never one to flirt openly, but the way you lingered just a little longer after a shift, offering a quiet “goodnight” that seemed more loaded than it should have been, made his mind wander. You were sharp, sarcastic, and a little too perceptive when it came to his moods. But you also knew when to push and when to back off, never crossing a line, never making things awkward. It was this balance—this push and pull—that had always kept him coming back for more, even if he was too stubborn to admit it.

And then came the late-night shifts, when the two of you found yourselves alone in the break room, exchanging tired smiles and quick conversations. There was always a sense of relief when you were around, something that made the weight of the hospital’s intensity just a little easier to carry. It was during those late nights that the line between colleague and something more started to blur.

The first real moment of connection came when you had both worked back-to-back shifts, barely catching a break. It was after a particularly harrowing case, the adrenaline still buzzing in your veins. You had walked into the supply room for a brief respite, and Seungcheol had followed not long after. There, in the quiet of the room, everything shifted. You’d been talking—nothing important, just passing the time—but the way your eyes lingered on his, the way the air thickened between you, made it impossible to ignore the tension that had been building for months.

And then it happened. A touch. A lingering hand on his shoulder that lingered just a little too long. A look that said more than words could. Seungcheol didn’t know who leaned in first—he couldn’t remember—but the kiss that followed was the spark that set it all off. It was gentle at first, hesitant even, but it was enough to send a shock through both of you.

From there, things escalated quickly. The moments that had once been innocent now carried weight. A brush of fingers when you passed in the hallway, shared smiles that lingered a little too long, and quiet conversations that ran deeper than either of you intended. It was an unspoken understanding that neither of you was ready to label, but it was becoming harder to ignore.

Yet, despite the undeniable pull between you, Seungcheol remained distant in his own way. He was a man of control, a surgeon who prided himself on making decisions based on logic, not emotion. But with you, all of that control slipped away. He couldn’t explain why, but every time you were near, he felt a rush of something he couldn’t name. And it terrified him.

But tonight, as he stood in the dimly lit supply room, everything seemed different. The walls he had built around himself had crumbled. The weight of his emotions—those he had been ignoring for so long—was now impossible to deny. And when you stepped closer, when your fingers laced with his, Seungcheol realized he was no longer in control. And for once, he didn’t want to be.

The tension between you and Seungcheol was palpable, the quiet of the supply room almost suffocating as you both moved closer. His lips brushed against yours again, this time with more urgency, as if every second apart was torture. His hands roamed to the small of your back, pulling you against him, and you felt the heat of his body through the thin fabric of your uniforms.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving with an intensity that made everything else

Fade away. The world outside the room no longer existed-there was only the two of you, lost in a moment that had been building for so long.

But just as Seungcheol’s hands slid up to the buttons of your uniform, eager to pull you closer, the shrill sound of the pager interrupted the moment.

You both froze, hearts racing, breaths shallow. The pager vibrated loudly in the silence, a reminder of the reality you both couldn’t escape. Seungcheol cursed under his breath, his lips still hovering just inches from yours.

“Are you serious?” he muttered, frustration mixing with the desire that still lingered between you.

You pulled away slightly, your chest rising and falling with the sudden shift from heated passion to the reality of your jobs. “Duty calls’ you said with a wry smile, though your voice betrayed the disappointment you felt.

Seungcheol’s hand hovered on your waist, his fingers still feeling the heat of your skin through the fabric. He pressed his forehead to yours, breathing heavily as he reluctantly reached for his pager. “I swear, the timing is always shit.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, despite the frustration that lingered in the air. “You know what they say- emergencies don’t wait for anyone.”

He sighed, his lips brushing yours once more in a fleeting, frustrated kiss before pulling away entirely. “We’ll finish this later” he promised, voice low, heated with both desire and the weight of the moment.

As you both adjusted your clothes, the distance between you now felt unbearable. The lingering tension was still there, but you both knew—this wasn’t the end. Just a temporary pause.

With one last lingering look, you both exited the room, the weight of unspoken promises hanging in the air as you headed back into the chaos of the hospital, your hearts still racing from the fire that had ignited just moments before.

The emergency call came through just as you both started to gather yourselves. It was a code red—a car accident, multiple injuries. No time to waste.

You grabbed your gear, quickly re-adjusting your uniform as Seungcheol did the same. His gaze met yours briefly, the heat still lingering between you, but there was no time for lingering looks now. It was a quick, efficient exchange—silent understanding in the way your bodies moved in sync, both of you already shifting into the role that came naturally: professionals.

“Let’s go,” you said, grabbing your medical bag, and heading out the door. Seungcheol didn’t respond verbally, but his nod was all the confirmation you needed. He was already at the door, prepared to go down to the OR. He had his job, and you had yours. No time for anything else.

You rushed to the ambulance, heart still racing—not from the kiss, but from the adrenaline that surged at the thought of the emergency ahead. You and your partner, another paramedic, got the ambulance rolling as quickly as possible, sirens wailing in the night air.

As the city blurred by, you were all business. Your mind was on the victims, on how fast you could get to them, assess the situation, and stabilize them for transport. Seungcheol, meanwhile, would be preparing for what came after. The surgeries, the repairs. His precision and skill would save lives, just as yours would.

The two of you had done this a million times, but tonight, there was an undercurrent of tension—one that neither of you acknowledged aloud but both knew was there.

You arrived on the scene, quickly springing into action as you assessed the situation. Two cars had collided, one of the drivers unconscious, the other with severe lacerations. You moved with practiced ease, taking charge of the scene and giving clear instructions to your team as you worked. Your hands were steady, heart focused on the task at hand.

But as you helped load the patient into the back of the ambulance, you couldn’t help but think of Seungcheol, down in the OR, prepping for whatever was waiting for him.

You had an unspoken agreement—an arrangement that worked for both of you. No feelings. Just duty. It was easier this way. Neither of you had the time to invest in something more complicated. The hospital, the chaos, the hours—it was all-consuming.

But even in the midst of all the chaos, as the ambulance sped toward the hospital, a part of you couldn’t deny the quiet ache that followed you, even with the steady rhythm of your heartbeat.

By the time you arrived at the ER, Seungcheol was already in motion, a blur of action as he moved to assess the incoming patients. You exchanged a glance as you wheeled the stretcher in, but it was brief, a simple nod—nothing more. The momentary spark was gone, replaced with the cold professionalism both of you had perfected.

You handed off the patient to the team, then turned to leave. The work would continue. And so would your arrangement.

There were no feelings. No time for them. Just the rush of saving lives and the unspoken understanding that, for both of you, that was enough.

In the brightly lit operating room, Seungcheol worked with the precision of a man who had done this a thousand times before. His focus was laser-sharp, hands steady as he maneuvered around fractured ribs and internal bleeding. Across from him, Dr. Yoon Jeonghan, neurosurgeon and one of his closest friends, monitored the patient’s cranial stability with equal care, his deft hands ensuring there was no further trauma to the brain.

The two of them had been through countless surgeries together, often speaking in shorthand, their familiarity making even the most complex procedures feel like a well-rehearsed dance. But tonight, Jeonghan couldn’t help but notice something was off.

“Clamp,” Seungcheol called out, his voice calm, but Jeonghan caught the subtle edge to it.

“Clamp,” the scrub nurse echoed, handing it over.

Jeonghan didn’t say anything at first, focusing on his part of the procedure. But as they worked, he kept glancing at Seungcheol. His friend’s movements were as precise as always, but there was a tension in his shoulders, a tightness in his jaw that Jeonghan couldn’t ignore.

“Something on your mind, Choi?” Jeonghan finally asked during a brief lull in the procedure, his tone light but probing.

“Focus on the patient,” Seungcheol replied without looking up, his voice clipped in a way that told Jeonghan he wasn’t in the mood for conversation.

Jeonghan raised a brow behind his surgical mask, exchanging a quick look with the assisting nurse, who wisely kept her head down. “I am focused on the patient,” he said casually. “But I can also focus on my friend, who looks like he’s about to bite someone’s head off.”

“Retractor,” Seungcheol said, ignoring Jeonghan’s comment entirely.

The nurse handed it over, and Seungcheol continued working in silence, refusing to engage. Jeonghan sighed, but didn’t press further—for now. Instead, he turned his attention back to his own work, carefully monitoring the patient’s neurological status.

They finished the surgery with no complications, closing up the patient and ensuring vitals were stable before stepping away to scrub out.

In the post-op room, as they washed up, Jeonghan glanced over at Seungcheol again. “You know, if you keep bottling whatever’s eating at you, you’re going to implode. And we both know that’s going to be messy.”

Seungcheol dried his hands, shooting Jeonghan a look that was equal parts irritation and amusement. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right.” Jeonghan leaned against the sink, crossing his arms. “You’ve been tense all night. And don’t tell me it’s just the surgery—this is routine for you. So what’s going on? Trouble with admin? Or…” He paused, tilting his head. “Is this about that paramedic?”

Seungcheol stiffened almost imperceptibly, but it was enough for Jeonghan to catch.

“Ah, I see,” Jeonghan said with a knowing smirk. “You’re really going to pretend there’s nothing going on when you reacted exactly like that?”

Seungcheol shot him a warning glance. “Drop it, Yoon.”

“Fine, fine,” Jeonghan said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But you should know, you’re terrible at hiding things when it comes to her. Just saying.”

Seungcheol didn’t respond, grabbing his towel and heading for the door. But as he walked away, Jeonghan couldn’t help but chuckle to himself.

“Whatever it is, Choi,” he called after him, “you might want to figure it out before it eats you alive.”

You were at your locker, slipping into your jacket and zipping it up when Suarez leaned casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed and a knowing smirk plastered on his face. He had that look—the one that always meant he was about to say something annoying but true.

“So,” he started, dragging out the word in that teasing tone that made you roll your eyes before he even got to the point. “How’s your secret rendezvous with Dr. Hot Trauma going?”

Your hands froze mid-motion as you were tying your shoelaces, and your head snapped up to look at him. “What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me,” Suarez said, grinning wider. “You really thought you could keep that under wraps? Come on, I know you better than that.”

Your stomach flipped, but you kept your expression as neutral as possible. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure, sure,” Suarez said, pushing off the doorframe and sauntering into the room. “You just happen to disappear on breaks at the same time as Dr. Choi. And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you come back with that look. You know, like you just saved a life and got your world rocked in the same hour.”

“Suarez,” you warned, but your voice lacked any real bite, which only made him laugh.

“Relax, it’s not like I’m going to blab,” he said, leaning against the lockers beside yours. “But seriously, you’re not as subtle as you think. And before you say it—yes, I know you’re ‘keeping it casual’ and ‘have no time for feelings.’” He made air quotes as he spoke, rolling his eyes dramatically.

You stood up, brushing imaginary dust off your pants to avoid looking at him. “Exactly. It’s nothing serious. We’re both busy. End of story.”

Suarez let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “You’re really going to lie to my face like that?”

“It’s not a lie,” you shot back, glaring at him.

“Okay, fine,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But just so you know, I’ve seen this movie before. Two overworked, ridiculously attractive people start hooking up because it’s convenient and hot. But then, someone—someone—starts catching feelings.”

“That’s not going to happen,” you said firmly, closing your locker with more force than necessary.

Suarez just shook his head, that stupid smirk never leaving his face. “If you say so. Just don’t come crying to me when you’re standing outside the trauma bay, staring at him like some lovesick puppy.”

You shoved past him with an annoyed huff. “Goodnight, Suarez.”

“Goodnight, lover girl!” he called after you, laughing as you walked away.

You rolled your eyes, but as you headed for the parking lot, his words stuck with you. You didn’t have time for feelings—neither of you did. It was easier this way. That’s what you kept telling yourself, anyway.

Seungcheol sat at his desk in the quiet of the on-call room, the faint hum of the hospital around him as he typed up his post-op report. The surgery had gone well, but his mind wasn’t entirely on the case. It kept drifting—back to the supply room, to the way your lips felt against his, the way your hands pulled him closer like you couldn’t bear to let go.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared at the screen. Focus, Choi, he told himself. There was no room for distractions, especially not ones that made his pulse race like a rookie intern’s.

His phone buzzed on the desk, breaking his concentration. He glanced at it, expecting an update on a patient or a scheduling alert. Instead, it was a text from you.

[You: So… about that “we’ll finish this later.”]

He froze, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. The corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk as he stared at the screen. You were nothing if not bold. He leaned back in his chair, rereading the message like it might disappear if he blinked too hard.

His fingers moved almost on their own as he typed back.

[Him: Thought you’d be asleep by now.]

The reply came almost instantly.

[You: Thought you’d know me better by now.]

He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. Of course, you weren’t the type to let things go unresolved.

[Him: Still at the hospital?]

[You: Parking lot. Unless you’re going to make me wait all night.]

His heart skipped a beat, a rush of anticipation coursing through him. He knew he shouldn’t—he should stay focused, keep things compartmentalized. But the thought of you waiting out there, just for him…

Grabbing his jacket, he stood, stuffing his phone in his pocket as he made his way to the elevator. His report could wait.

As the elevator doors closed, he texted back:

[Him: Don’t move. I’ll be right there.]

The car was parked in the farthest corner of the lot, away from the prying eyes of hospital staff and security cameras. By the time Seungcheol’s hands tangled in your hair and your lips found his, the air between you was electric, a current neither of you could resist.

The windows fogged up quickly as the heat of your bodies filled the enclosed space, the chill of the night long forgotten. His jacket was somewhere in the backseat, your shirt halfway undone, his tie loose around his neck.

Your breath hitched as his lips trailed down your jaw, his hands sliding possessively over your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

“Seungcheol,” you breathed out, your voice a mix of frustration and want, and he answered by pressing his lips back to yours, his movements desperate yet controlled in a way only he could manage.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. This was supposed to be simple-something to take the edge off the stress of your lives, an outlet. And yet, here you were, tangled together like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

By the time you both pulled back to catch your breaths, the car felt like it was on fire. Your chest heaved as you stared at him, his forehead resting against yours. His hand stayed on your thigh, his fingers twitching slightly, like he didn’t want to let go.

He was quiet for a moment, his gaze heavy as it locked onto yours. And then he said it. “I need you.”

Your eyes widened slightly, and his own seemed to do the same, as though he couldn’t believe the words had slipped out. The air in the car shifted instantly, the weight of his admission pressing against the walls of your unspoken agreement. You blinked, searching his face, trying to process what he’d just said.

“Seungcheol..” you started, your voice softer now, but he shook his head quickly, pulling back slightly.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, his tone rushed, his eyes darting away from yours. “I mean- do, but not… not like that. Forget I said anything.”

You tilted your head, studying him. He was rattled, which was rare for Seungcheol. You’d seen him handle trauma cases with unflinching calm, but this? This had him fumbling. “I think you meant it exactly like that,” you said softly, a slight teasing edge to it.

He sighed, leaning back in his seat and running a hand through his hair. “This wasn’t supposed to get complicated” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

Your chest tightened at his words, small pang you weren’t ready to examine, flaring in your ribs. You forced a smile, brushing a hand over his. “It’s not complicated,’ you said lightly, though the words felt heavier than they should. “We needed this. That’s all it is.”

He nodded, but his jaw clenched, his eyes refusing to meet yours. “Yeah,” he said finally, though the word felt hollow.

The two of you sat there in the quiet for a moment, the sound of your breathing mingling in the fogged-up space. It wasn’t complicated. That’s what you both kept telling yourselves. And yet, as you adjusted your clothes and prepared to leave, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the line you’d drawn in the sand was slowly being washed away.

The shift in Seungcheol’s behavior was impossible to miss. Since that night in the parking lot, he had become a ghost—always too busy, too focused, or conveniently unavailable.

You noticed it immediately. The way his texts, once teasing and quick, became short or nonexistent. The way he avoided your gaze in the halls, no longer meeting your smirks with his usual cocky grin. He buried himself in surgeries and reports, dodging you at every turn, and it was driving you insane.

At first, you thought you were imagining it. Maybe he really was just slammed with work—it wouldn’t be the first time. But as the days passed, the distance grew, and the usual banter that made those chaotic hospital days bearable had evaporated.

You leaned against the ambulance, scrolling through your messages. No new notifications. You scrolled up to your last text to him.

[You: Late shift. Don’t leave me hanging tonight.]

It had been left on read.

A frown tugged at your lips, and Suarez noticed immediately. “Alright, spill it,” he said, leaning against the other side of the ambulance, crossing his arms.

“Spill what?” you asked, not looking up from your phone.

“Whatever has you looking like someone just told you coffee was outlawed,” he said, giving you a pointed look. “Let me guess… Dr. Hot Trauma is ghosting you?”

You shot him a glare. “He’s busy.”

“Uh-huh,” Suarez said, nodding slowly. “So busy that he can’t even send a three-word text? I’ve seen the man patch up someone’s femoral artery while dictating a grocery list. He’s not that busy.”

You sighed, rubbing your temple. “I don’t know. He’s just… different lately. Distant.”

“Maybe he’s catching feelings,” Suarez said casually, shrugging.

Your head snapped up, your stomach twisting at the suggestion. “He’s not. We agreed—this isn’t about feelings. It’s just… fun.”

Suarez gave you a look, one eyebrow raised. “You really think people like you two can keep things casual? Please. You’ve got sparks flying all over this place. It was bound to blow up eventually.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “It’s not like that. He’s probably just stressed.”

“Uh-huh,” Suarez said again, his smirk returning. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Meanwhile, Seungcheol

Seungcheol stared at the untouched coffee on his desk, his jaw tight as he reviewed yet another patient chart. He couldn’t focus—hadn’t been able to since that night.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw you. The way you looked at him in the car, the way you teased him with that soft confidence that always made his walls crumble. And worse, the way you’d brushed off his slip-up like it meant nothing.

You were fine keeping things casual, sending texts that were nothing more than a call for company. But him? He couldn’t keep doing it. Couldn’t keep holding you close when all he wanted was more than you were willing to give.

His phone buzzed, and he didn’t have to look to know it was you. He didn’t pick it up.

“Choi,” a familiar voice said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Seungcheol looked up to see Jeonghan leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed and a curious expression on his face. “What?”

Jeonghan tilted his head. “You’re brooding. And before you tell me you’re fine, you’ve got that look. The one you get when you’re pretending not to be in a mess.”

Seungcheol groaned, running a hand over his face. “I’m not in a mess.”

Jeonghan walked in, taking a seat across from him. “Oh, you definitely are. Let me guess—this is about the paramedic?”

“Drop it, Jeonghan.”

“I’ll drop it when you stop being so obvious,” Jeonghan shot back. “You’re a wreck. What happened?”

Seungcheol sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I can’t keep doing this.”

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. “Doing what? Working with her? Hooking up with her?”

Seungcheol hesitated before answering. “Both. I’m… I’m catching feelings, man. And she doesn’t feel the same.”

Jeonghan studied him for a moment, his usual smirk replaced by something softer. “Have you even told her how you feel? Or are you just assuming?”

Seungcheol shook his head. “What’s the point? She’s made it clear what this is. And I’d rather keep her in my life like this than not at all.”

Jeonghan sighed, leaning back. “You’re an idiot, Choi. But I get it. Just… don’t let this eat you alive, alright? You’re no good to anyone like this.”

Seungcheol didn’t respond, his gaze dropping to the phone on his desk. He wasn’t sure if he had it in him to risk losing you. But the thought of keeping you at arm’s length was starting to hurt just as much.

You were just about to clock out, the weight of the day starting to lift off your shoulders when someone grabbed your wrist, pulling you into a supply closet. The door slammed shut behind you with a soft thud, and you barely had time to register what was happening before you were pressed against the cool wall, the scent of antiseptic and fresh linens filling the air.

You gasped, your pulse immediately picking up as you looked up to find Seungcheol standing there, his chest heaving just as much as yours, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite place. His hand was still gripping your wrist, but it wasn’t rough—just firm, like he needed to make sure you were there, with him.

“What the hell, Seungcheol?!” you asked, your voice coming out more breathless than you intended. You were surprised, caught off guard by the sudden intensity in his actions.

He didn’t answer at first, his gaze roaming over your face like he was memorizing every detail. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost too soft. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

You raised an eyebrow, unsure of what he meant. “Then why are you doing this?”

Seungcheol exhaled sharply, stepping closer so your bodies were almost flush. His hand released your wrist, but it landed on your hip, pulling you toward him with an almost desperate force. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed, his voice rough around the edges. “I can’t stop wanting you.”

Your breath caught In your throat, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside the small, dimly lit room ceased to exist. His admission was too raw, too honest, and it sent a shiver down your spine. The intensity in his eyes was different from before—this wasn’t about the casual arrangement anymore. This was something more.

Before you could process his words, his lips were on yours, hungry and impatient. It was everything. And nothing like before. The kiss was desperate, as if he was trying to reclaim something he felt slipping away—something you hadn’t even known was there.

His hand slipped to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. You felt his heart racing through his chest, his breath hot against your skin, and in that moment, you didn’t know if you were the one pulling him closer or if he was the one pulling you.

You finally broke the kiss, gasping for air, your forehead resting against his. “This—this is what you’ve been avoiding?” you whispered, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

Seungcheol’s eyes were closed for a second, his lips still brushing against yours. “I didn’t know how to handle it,” he murmured. “I’m not good at this… at feeling like this. It’s not supposed to be more than it is.”

You frowned, pushing him back slightly so you could meet his eyes. “Then why do you keep coming back?” you asked, your voice sharp with frustration.

His gaze softened just a fraction, and he let out a frustrated sigh. “Because I can’t walk away now. And I hate that I’m feeling this way. But I don’t know how to stop it.”

The space between you both felt charged, like it was about to collapse in on itself. And for the first time, you didn’t know whether you should pull away or lean in closer.

You pulled away before you could stop yourself, your chest rising and falling with every shaky breath. The sudden distance between you both felt like a weight pressing down on your chest, suffocating you. You turned your head, refusing to meet his gaze, as if that would somehow make the tension between you both easier to handle.

Seungcheol froze, his hand falling to his side. You could feel his eyes on you, but you couldn’t look at him—not now. Not when everything inside you was screaming to keep going.

“Why are you pulling away?” His voice was low, rough, like he was trying to hold onto something, anything, that could bridge the gap you’d just created.

You felt his presence like a physical force, but you refused to meet his eyes. If you did, you weren’t sure you’d be able to control yourself. “Because you’re an idiot,” you whispered, your voice trembling just a little. “And I am, too.”

Seungcheol’s breath hitched. “What?”

You ran a hand through your hair, trying to steady your racing thoughts. “I’m not stupid, Seungcheol. This… this thing between us? It’s never going to work. And I’ve been letting it get too complicated.” Your voice faltered as you said the words, even though you knew deep down that they were true.

He stepped forward, but you instinctively backed away, shaking your head. “You don’t get it, do you? We’re not made for this. This—” you gestured between the two of you, “—is just… It’s just for now, for now, and I can’t let myself feel anything else. I’m not built for this.”

The silence that followed was suffocating, thick with words unspoken. You could see him trying to process what you’d just said, his brows furrowed, his mouth slightly open as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know where to start.

Finally, he exhaled sharply. “You’re right,” he muttered, his voice tight with frustration. “I’m the idiot here.”

You looked up, surprised at his response. “What?”

“I’ve been running from this,” he said, his eyes darker now. “I thought I could just… keep this casual with you. But I can’t. Not anymore.” His jaw clenched, and he looked away, as though the truth was something he couldn’t quite face.

You felt the weight of his words hang in the air, and for a moment, you almost thought he might be talking about more than just this physical arrangement. You swallowed hard. “So what now?” you asked, your voice quieter than before.

Seungcheol didn’t answer immediately. He stood there, just staring at you, the two of you caught in the swirling tension that neither of you could escape. Finally, he shook his head and muttered under his breath, “I don’t know. I thought I had it all figured out, but now I’m just… lost.”

You wanted to reach for him, to close the distance, to take the tension and make it all go away. But you couldn’t. You weren’t sure you knew how to stop sabotaging yourself, let alone him.

And so, you said nothing. You just turned, leaving the supply closet behind.

You buried yourself in work, picking up multiple shifts to distract yourself from the gnawing emptiness Seungcheol’s absence had left. It was easier to focus on the chaos of the ER, to be so busy you didn’t have time to think about anything other than the pulse of the hospital and the weight of the lives you were trying to save.

Suarez had been trying to warn you for days, noticing the bags under your eyes, the tension in your shoulders, the way your movements had started to slow despite the usual urgency. But you didn’t want to hear it. You could handle it. You had to.

So, when you found yourself downing Adderall just to stay awake through your third shift in a row, you told yourself it was fine. You had it under control. You’d handled worse.

Except, that wasn’t the case. Not at all.

You stood at the side of the bed, focused on the IV line, the patient’s condition worsening by the second. The adrenaline rush from the constant movement kept you sharp, or so you thought. You made the incision, feeling the slight sting of pressure against the needle as you slid it into the patient’s vein. Your hand was steady, but somewhere in the back of your mind, there was a nagging voice telling you something wasn’t quite right.

It wasn’t until Suarez’s hand shot out, gripping your wrist, that you snapped back to reality.

“Woah, woah, hold up,” he said, his voice sharp with concern. “What the hell are you doing?”

You blinked, disoriented for a second. The IV line had been positioned wrong—too close to the patient’s artery. It could’ve triggered a major reaction. You cursed under your breath, feeling the cold sweat on your forehead as your pulse quickened.

Suarez didn’t let go of your wrist, his grip firm as he moved you out of the way. “You’re lucky you didn’t just kill this guy, [Y/N].” His voice was filled with equal parts anger and concern. “What the hell’s going on with you?”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “I… I thought I had it under control.”

“You don’t have it under control,” Suarez snapped, pushing you aside so he could correct the IV. “You’re running on empty, [Y/N]. This isn’t you. You’re not thinking straight.”

You stared at him, words caught in your throat. He was right. The panic in your chest, the swirling dizziness—it was all the product of too many hours, too many sleepless nights, too much of everything.

But you didn’t want to admit it. You couldn’t.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, though the tremor in your voice betrayed you. “Just… need to get back to work.”

“No,” Suarez said firmly, his eyes locked on yours. “You’re done for the night. I’m calling it. Go home, get some rest.”

You didn’t argue. It wasn’t worth it. Instead, you let him guide you out of the ER, your feet dragging with the weight of exhaustion you could no longer ignore.

When you got to your car, the adrenaline wore off, and all that was left was the sinking realization of how close you’d come to making a fatal mistake. The sound of your pager buzzing on the seat next to you pulled you from your thoughts, and you hesitated before looking at the screen.

It was Seungcheol.

You stared at his name, fingers hovering over the screen for a moment. You couldn’t bring yourself to reply. After everything—after how you’d pushed him away—you didn’t have the strength to deal with whatever he wanted to say.

So you let the moment slip by, ignoring the message, just like you had been doing for the past few days.

You didn’t realize how deep the exhaustion ran until it hit you all at once. The car seat was uncomfortable, the cold night air biting through your coat, but it didn’t matter. You’d barely closed your eyes before the weight of everything you’d been pushing aside caught up to you.

The world faded Into darkness, and for the first time in days, you let yourself slip into a dreamless sleep, the kind where nothing existed beyond the crushing fatigue.

But it didn’t last.

A rough hand shook your shoulder, pulling you from the haze. Your eyes fluttered open, and you blinked up at Seungcheol, his face a mix of confusion and concern.

“[Y/N]?” His voice was tight, edged with panic. “What the hell are you doing here?”

You didn’t respond at first, still groggy, still disoriented. The sound of his voice was enough to make your heart stumble, your mind fumbling to catch up. “Seungcheol?” you whispered, your throat raw. You tried to sit up but your body felt too heavy. Your head spun, and for a moment, you thought you might fall over.

He crouched down next to you, his hand resting on your shoulder to steady you. “What happened?” His voice softened, and you could see the worry in his eyes, the crease between his brows deepening. “Why are you here like this?”

You blinked again, trying to focus, but everything felt so far away. “I… I don’t know. I was just… so tired. I couldn’t keep going.”

Seungcheol cursed softly, rubbing his forehead. “This is insane. You’re killing yourself doing this.”

You looked up at him, eyes narrowed in confusion. “What do you mean? I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, [Y/N]. You’re running on empty, and it’s showing. You nearly made a mistake tonight—Suarez had to stop you from messing up an IV. What the hell is going on with you?” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to something more urgent. “You’re not invincible. You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

His words cut through the haze in your mind, and for the first time, you felt a pang of guilt. You had been pushing yourself too far. You’d been running from everything, not just the job, but from him, too.

“Why do you care?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He stared at you for a long moment, his gaze piercing, as if he were trying to figure you out. “Because I’m not stupid, [Y/N]. I know what’s been going on with you. I know you’re avoiding me, and I—” He stopped himself, and you could see the frustration building in his eyes. “You’re not fine.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in. He was right. You hadn’t been fine. And now, here he was, standing in front of you, and the only thing you could do was pull away. But you didn’t have the energy anymore.

“I’m sorry,” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “I… I didn’t know what else to do. I thought… I thought if I just worked enough, I could forget everything. Forget how I’m…” You trailed off, unsure how to explain what was really going on inside your head.

Seungcheol looked at you, his face softening just a fraction. “Forget what, [Y/N]?” His voice was low now, gentler, as if trying to break through the walls you’d built around yourself.

You hesitated, the words caught in your throat. You didn’t want to admit it, but the weight of everything you’d been hiding felt like it was going to break you. “Forget how I feel about you,” you finally whispered, the truth hanging in the air between you.

Seungcheol’s expression faltered for a moment, a mix of surprise and something else you couldn’t quite place crossing his face. He didn’t say anything right away, just sat there next to you, watching you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he sighed, his hand finding yours. “You’re not the only one with feelings, you know,” he muttered, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “But I’m not sure what to do with them either.”

You blinked, looking at him with a mixture of confusion and disbelief. “What are you saying?”

Seungcheol leaned back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “I’m saying we’re both idiots, [Y/N]. And maybe… just maybe, we don’t have to figure it all out right now.”

Seungcheol didn’t say anything else after that, his hand still holding yours as if to ground you. He helped you to your feet, gently guiding you towards your car, but the whole time, you felt like your mind was still spinning. There was so much you didn’t know how to process, so much you were still running from.

He didn’t argue when you let him drive. It wasn’t long before you found yourself inside your apartment, the quiet almost suffocating after everything that had happened. He moved through the space with practiced ease, setting you up on the couch with a blanket and some water, his eyes constantly scanning you for signs of distress.

“You’re not going back to work anytime soon,” he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. “You’re detoxing. Resting. I’m handling everything.”

You tried to protest, but the exhaustion was so overwhelming that you barely had the energy to fight him. When he returned, he was holding your pager in his hand, a stern look on his face as he handed it over to you. “You’re off for a couple of days. I’ve already talked to Jihoon’s assistant.”

You blinked, too tired to argue, but noticed the subtle way his words were loaded with care. His hands hovered, uncertain for a second, before he pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and placed it in your hands.

“Just… rest. I’ll take care of things for you, [Y/N].”

As Seungcheol left you to rest, you realized that you hadn’t truly been taking care of yourself. And as much as you didn’t want to admit it, it took him being there for you—pulling you from the brink—to make you realize just how much you’d let everything go, including the part of you that wanted to face the feelings you’d been trying to ignore.

The next day, when you were a little more rested and the fog in your mind started to clear, Seungcheol came back to check on you. He sat beside you, the room silent for a long moment before he broke the stillness.

“You good?” he asked, his voice quieter, softer than before. His gaze was fixed on you, as if waiting for you to say something that would shift the atmosphere.

You exhaled slowly, finally meeting his eyes. The words had been sitting on the tip of your tongue for so long. “This whole thing was stupid,” you muttered, your voice low, almost hesitant. “I was just trying to ignore everything, but… I like you, Seungcheol.” The confession was raw, unfiltered, and it felt like a weight lifting off your chest the moment you spoke it. “I’ve liked you for a while.”

He didn’t say anything right away, his brow furrowing as if he were waiting for you to say more. You continued, the words flowing more easily now. “I never meant for it to get this complicated. And yeah, I was scared. But it was always you. It’s always been you.”

Seungcheol’s eyes softened as he reached out, his thumb grazing over your knuckles. “I like you too,” he admitted quietly. The honesty in his voice made your heart skip. “A lot. It scares me, too. But…” He hesitated, as if he were searching for the right words. “We’re both a mess, [Y/N].”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “Yeah. We are. But I think we can figure it out.”

The tension in the room seemed to dissipate as you both sat in the quiet, the weight of your shared confession settling between you. There was still a lot to figure out, but for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel alone in it. Seungcheol, with all his quiet strength and unpredictable moments of vulnerability, wasn’t the type of man to run. Not now. Not after everything.

“You’re not going to push me away?” you asked softly, needing that reassurance, the one thing that kept you grounded in this new, fragile space between you both.

Seungcheol’s smile was small but real. “Not unless you’re ready for me to.”

The air shifted then, the unspoken agreement clear in his words, and for the first time in days, you felt the possibility of something more than just the chaos of your hectic lives. Maybe this wasn’t just some stupid plan. Maybe it could be something real.

You let the silence stretch between you both, your heart beating a little faster as his gaze lingered on yours. There was something different in the way he was looking at you now, something that felt like the beginning of something more.

Without thinking, you leaned in, just enough that the air between you both seemed to crackle with the unspoken tension. His breath hitched slightly, and for a moment, you thought he might pull back. But instead, his hand reached for your face, cupping it gently, guiding you closer.

When your lips met, it was slow, hesitant at first, as if neither of you were entirely sure what to do with this moment. But the softness of it, the careful way his lips moved against yours, spoke volumes. The intensity built gradually, like a steady wave, each kiss more urgent than the last.

You pulled away just enough to breathe, your forehead resting against his as you tried to steady yourself, realizing just how long you’d wanted this. “Are you sure about this?” you whispered, the uncertainty creeping back in, though this time it wasn’t fear—it was hope.

Seungcheol’s eyes flickered to your lips before meeting your gaze. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” And with that, he kissed you again, this time with the certainty of someone who had already made up their mind.

Seungcheol was leaning over a chart in his office, deep in conversation with Jeonghan about a critical patient. His mind was still half on the numbers and the procedure details, but Jeonghan’s casual question caught him off guard.

“So, how’s she doing?” Jeonghan asked, raising an eyebrow as he leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You two seem to be a lot more… friendly lately. Everything okay?”

Seungcheol’s focus snapped to Jeonghan, his expression instantly tightening. He had never been the type to share much about his personal life, especially not with his colleagues. But Jeonghan, being as perceptive as ever, seemed to always find a way to poke around, and the last thing Seungcheol wanted was to talk about you.

“Nothing’s changed,” Seungcheol muttered, trying to brush it off. “We’re busy, that’s all.”

Jeonghan raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Busy is fine, but I don’t see you looking at your charts like that when you’re talking about the patient.”

Before Seungcheol could reply, the door swung open without warning, and you walked in, as effortlessly as ever. Your eyes caught his immediately, and without a second of hesitation, you went straight to his lap, settling comfortably there as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Jeonghan couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, leaning forward in his chair, his amusement impossible to hide. “Well, well, seems like I didn’t need to ask. Guess the nothing’s changed part wasn’t exactly truthful.”

Seungcheol looked up at you, eyes softening as you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before leaning back against him. Despite the usual professionalism in the hospital, something about the moment felt different. He let out a quiet sigh, letting himself relax in your presence for the first time all day.

“You’re distracting me,” he muttered, though the smile tugging at the corner of his lips betrayed the seriousness of his words.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh? Distracting you from what?” you teased, fingers trailing lightly over his jacket.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “I’ll take that as my cue to leave. You two are insufferable.”

As Jeonghan stood up and made his way to the door, he turned back to Seungcheol with a knowing grin. “You better hold onto her, man. She seems like trouble.” He shot you a wink. “But I’m guessing you already know that.”

Seungcheol shot him a pointed look, his hand resting protectively around your waist. “You don’t know the half of it.”

Once the door clicked shut behind Jeonghan, you turned back to Seungcheol, your playful demeanor shifting just enough for him to see the soft vulnerability in your eyes.

“Jeonghan’s right,” you said quietly, your voice just low enough that only Seungcheol could hear. “I’m a bit of trouble, aren’t I?”

Seungcheol chuckled, leaning in to kiss the top of your head. “You’re the best kind of trouble.”

And in that moment, everything else—the stress, the pressure, the weight of the hospital—seemed to fade away. It was just the two of you, finally letting down your guard, letting the world see what you’d already known: you were in this together.

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Bold couldn't be tagged

[whitesugarbaybee]

22:34 | c.sc

The evening had been perfect so far—a cosy dinner at one of your favourite restaurants with Seungcheol, who had been spoiling you from the moment you arrived. From pulling out your chair to gently cutting up your steak when you complained about how tired your arms felt, he was doting as always.

But your mood soured the second he walked in. Your ex. The one who’d sneered at your need to be cared for, called you "too much" for wanting to be pampered, and left you feeling like you had to apologize for your existence. You slouched in your seat, praying he wouldn’t see you.

Fate wasn’t that kind.

“Wow,” the familiar voice drawled as your ex stopped at your table. “I thought that was you. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

You forced a tight smile. “Hey. Small world.”

His eyes flicked to Seungcheol, who was calmly slicing into his food, unbothered but definitely listening. “New boyfriend?”

“Yes,” you said, your tone clipped, hoping that would be the end of it. But he wasn’t done.

“Interesting,” your ex said, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’re still pulling that ‘helpless princess’ act? Didn’t think someone else would be into the whole babysitter role.”

You stiffened, but before you could reply, Seungcheol’s deep, calm voice cut through the tension like a knife.

“Excuse me?”

Your ex blinked, clearly taken aback by the steel in Seungcheol’s tone.

Seungcheol leaned back in his chair, casually draping an arm across the back of yours, his presence suddenly commanding. “You seem very interested in how I treat my fiancée. What’s your name again?”

The word fiancée visibly startled your ex. “Uh… I’m—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Seungcheol interrupted smoothly. “But for the record, I don’t think loving someone and taking care of them makes me a babysitter. It makes me a man who knows what he has. Which, clearly, you didn’t.”

Your ex’s face flushed, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. “Well, I just—”

“You just thought you’d come over here and what? Critique her? Me?” Seungcheol’s eyes narrowed, his voice still calm but laced with a quiet authority that made even you straighten. “That’s not going to happen. So, unless you’re paying for our dinner, I suggest you leave.”

Your ex stammered something unintelligible before retreating to his own table, the humiliation clear on his face.

Seungcheol turned back to you, his gaze softening instantly. “You okay?”

You nodded, feeling a rush of gratitude—and love—fill your chest. “Thank you,” you murmured.

He smiled and reached across the table to take your hand. “Always.”

Later, as you left the restaurant with Seungcheol’s arm firmly around your shoulders, you couldn’t help but glance back and spot your ex still sulking at his table. It was petty, but you smiled. Because you were exactly where you were meant to be.

[whitesugarbaybee]

Love under a Microscope

Synopsis: Dr. Jeon Wonwoo, a brilliant but oblivious pathologist, has always been focused on his work—until he begins to notice his colleague’s quiet presence and realizes he's developed feelings for her. As he navigates the unfamiliar territory of love, he must learn to balance his logical mind with the unpredictable emotions of the heart. Pairing: Pathologist!Wonwoo x pathologist fem!reader Genre: Doctor au, shefellfirst-he fell harder, crack, fluff Word Count: 7k Warnings: mentions of medical information, teasing amongst friends, kissing Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional. This fic contains inaccurate medical information and is supposed to be taken as a work of fiction. A/N: Welcome to our nerdy Wonu fic for the Seventeen Med series. You can find the masterpost here.

Jeon Wonwoo’s reputation at SVT MED was as pristine as his lab coat. The epitome of precision, he approached every case with the same calculated meticulousness, oblivious to the chaos—or admiration—he left in his wake. His colleague, though, wasn’t so immune to his charms.

You didn’t mean to fall for him, not at first. He was frustrating in how oblivious he could be. Wonwoo had a way of staring straight past you, too focused on his microscope or his findings to realize the warmth behind your gaze. But somewhere between watching the subtle furrow of his brow during complex cases and the way his low voice echoed in the lab when he mumbled hypotheses, you found yourself tethered to him.

To him, you were simply his fellow pathologist—efficient and competent, someone who always picked up his slack when he got lost in his work. He didn’t realize that you lingered a little longer in the lab, pretending to review notes just so you could see him smile at his findings. Or that you memorized his coffee order because he had a habit of skipping meals on the busiest days.

Wonwoo’s world was a fortress of facts and logic, impenetrable and wholly consuming. He existed in a space where every action was deliberate, every thought calculated. You, however, existed in the spaces he never noticed.

At first, he was just another colleague, albeit an impressive one. Jeon Wonwoo had a way of commanding attention without trying, his intelligence quietly magnetic. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment admiration turned into something more, but it might have been during one of those rare moments when he let his guard down.

It was during a late-night case, your third one that week. The lab was quiet except for the soft hum of the centrifuge. You sat across from him, noting how his brow furrowed in concentration as he sketched a diagram in the margins of the case file.

“You’re going to wear out the paper,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

He didn’t look up but smirked faintly, a rare flicker of amusement that made your stomach flip. “Paper is resilient,” he replied, still scribbling.

It was such a small thing, yet you replayed that smirk over and over again on the way home.

After that, the things that frustrated others about him only endeared him to you more.

1. His Tunnel Vision

Wonwoo could spend hours dissecting a problem, completely oblivious to the world around him. You found it amusing how he’d forget basic things like lunch breaks or meetings, utterly consumed by his work. It became routine for you to slide a cup of coffee or a granola bar onto his desk without a word, and he’d take it with a quiet nod of thanks, not realizing how much effort you put into remembering what he liked.

2. His Dry Humour

Wonwoo wasn’t the type to crack obvious jokes, but his sarcasm often caught you off guard. Once, during a particularly tedious meeting, someone suggested an impractical solution, and Wonwoo, without looking up, murmured, “Sure, let’s just rewrite the laws of physics while we’re at it.” You had to bite your lip to stop from laughing, and when he noticed, he seemed surprised, as if he hadn’t expected anyone to catch it.

3. The Way He Got Lost in His Thoughts

Sometimes, you’d catch him staring off into space, his pen tapping rhythmically against his desk. You wondered what went on in that brilliant mind of his, wanting so badly to understand him better.

You weren’t bold, not with him. Wonwoo was too self-contained, too focused for grand gestures. Instead, you opted for quiet support:

Picking up extra tasks when he was swamped.

Laughing at his dry comments to show you appreciated his humour.

Offering insights during cases, hoping he’d see you as someone he could rely on.

And yet, he never noticed. He’d thank you in passing, but the gratitude never lingered.

It wasn’t as if he ignored you—quite the opposite. Wonwoo was polite and professional, even friendly in his quiet way. But there was a wall around him that you couldn’t quite break through, no matter how hard you tried.

The Moment You Knew You Were in Trouble was the day, you found him asleep in the break room, his head resting awkwardly on his folded arms. His glasses were slightly askew, and a stack of papers lay beside him. The sight was so vulnerable, so human, that your chest ached.

Without thinking, you draped your cardigan over his shoulders. He stirred slightly, murmuring your name before settling back into sleep.

You froze. It wasn’t just the way he said your name—it was the realization that you wanted to hear it like that all the time, soft and unguarded.

From that moment on, you knew you were hopelessly, irreversibly in love with Jeon Wonwoo. But what you didn’t know was that the seeds of his affection were quietly, unknowingly being planted in those same moments. He just hadn’t realized it yet.

The Day You actually Fell, was a late-night autopsy; you were the only two left in the lab. Wonwoo was standing across from you, utterly immersed in the specimen in front of him.

“This case is strange,” he mused, oblivious to your exhaustion. “The fracture patterns don’t match the expected force of impact…” His voice trailed off as he stared at you, his brows raised expectantly.

“Hmm?” you blinked, trying to appear as if you’d been paying attention and not focusing on the way his lashes brushed his cheek.

He gestured to the case file in your hands, clearly expecting you to follow his train of thought. You sighed and leaned closer to the table. “Wonwoo, not everyone thinks like you,” you said teasingly.

He only hummed, still analysing the data in front of him. But then, in an uncharacteristic move, he said, “That’s why I like working with you. You make up for what I miss.”

You felt your heart stutter. It wasn’t the compliment itself—it was the way he said it so simply, as if it were a fact he had no intention of overthinking.

Meanwhile, Director Lee Jihoon’s assistant, a quiet but sharp-eyed woman who happened to beyourbestfriend, had noticed some things in you. She had seen how your demeanour changed around Wonwoo—how you hesitated to speak up about your feelings, how you tried to downplay your affection with small gestures instead of taking the leap.

After a particularly long day, when you were waiting for your files to process and Jihoon’s assistant happened to be in the break room, she decided it was time to have a little chat.

She sat across from you with a cup of tea, her usual calm expression on her face. “You’ve been quiet lately. Everything okay?”

You looked up, startled. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Mm-hmm,” Jihoon’s assistant said, her tone flat. “That’s not what I meant. You’ve been spending a lot of time with Wonwoo. Have you thought about talking to him?”

You froze for a moment, unsure of how to answer. “What do you mean?” you asked, trying to sound casual, but your heart was already racing.

“You know exactly what I mean,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “It’s painfully obvious that you have feelings for him. And if I’m being honest, he has them for you too—he’s just too stubborn to admit it.”

Your face flushed. “I—he doesn’t notice me like that.”

She shook her head. “Don’t sell yourself short. He’s been as lost in his work as he always is, but even he can’t miss how much you do for him. The way you look at him… You’re making it pretty hard to ignore.”

You looked down, nervous now. “I don’t want to make things weird. We’re colleagues, and I don’t want to ruin that.”

She let out a sigh. “You know, if you keep waiting for the right moment to talk about it, it might never come. I get it—he’s Wonwoo, and he’s dense as a brick. But if you don’t take the first step, you’ll always be left wondering what could’ve been.”

Her words hit you harder than you expected. You’d been playing it safe, keeping your distance, because you didn’t want to risk ruining the easy dynamic between you and Wonwoo. But you knew, deep down, that the “what ifs” were eating at you.

“Just think about it,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “If you wait too long, it might be too late. He might not get it until someone else does.”

You nodded, lost in thought as she stood to leave. Jihoon’s assistant gave you one last look before disappearing, leaving you to wrestle with the new weight of her words.

Wonwoo wasn’t one for distractions, but he couldn’t deny that there was something different about you. It was subtle, at first. A look exchanged over a microscope, a soft laugh that followed one of his sarcastic comments. But nothing ever seemed out of place enough to make him think there was more to it.

He was a pathologist—his mind was consumed by the science, the details, the process. He didn’t have time for anything outside of that, and that’s how he preferred it. Still, there was something magnetic about you.

The First hint hit him one day when he walked into the break room after a long shift. He’d expected it to be empty—he was always the last one to leave, after all—but there you were, sitting at the table with your coffee, reviewing slides like it was just another normal day. He didn’t know what drew his attention, but his eyes landed on you and stayed there a moment too long.

Your focus, the way you leaned into your work with such ease, the small but steady way you always contributed to the team—it was almost like you’d made it effortless. He couldn’t put it into words, but it made him feel like he wasn’t the only one carrying the weight of the work. And for the first time, he noticed that you were always there for him in a way that seemed beyond professional.

That was the first crack in the armour.

The first time you brought him coffee, he almost didn’t understand why you had done it. He hadn’t asked for it, after all, but there you were, handing him a cup like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Here,” you said, a faint smile on your lips. “You looked like you needed it.”

For a moment, Wonwoo stood frozen, the warmth of the cup in his hands grounding him to the present. You didn’t expect anything from him, didn’t even bat an eye when he just stared at the coffee in his hands. But there was something in the way you handed it to him, something unspoken, that made him feel… seen.

You never asked for anything in return. You never expected a thank you. And that made it impossible to dismiss.

Then there was that day when he saw you with your hand wrapped up in bandages. It wasn’t anything serious—just a small cut, probably from handling sharp instruments in the lab—but to him, it felt like a catastrophe.

“Are you okay?” he asked, the words slipping out before he could stop them. His focus had been elsewhere, but the moment his eyes landed on your hand, it was like a switch had been flipped.

You waved it off casually. “It’s fine, Wonwoo. Just a little slip.”

But it wasn’t fine. He couldn’t quite explain why, but seeing you hurt, even in the smallest way, left a strange, gnawing feeling in his chest.

And that was when it started to hit him—something was wrong. There was something more to the way he noticed you, something beyond mere professionalism.

It didn’t take long for him to connect the dots, though he didn’t quite know what to do with it.

He realized that you were always around, always thinking of him when no one else did. You didn’t wait for him to ask for help—you just did. You never made it obvious, but Wonwoo found himself relying on your presence more than he ever expected. He began to notice the little things: how you’d always be there when he needed a second opinion, how you seemed to understand exactly when to give him space and when to push him forward.

But it was when he found you late one night in the lab, bent over a file and still working despite the hour, that it really hit him. You were the only one who stayed late with him, the only one who seemed as obsessed with the cases as he was. And somewhere in the dim light of the lab, with the faint hum of the equipment as the only sound, he found himself wishing he could understand you better.

He wanted to know why your quiet gestures meant more to him than any words ever could.

Wonwoo wasn’t good at admitting these things—hell, he wasn’t even sure how to process it all. But as he stared at you from across the room, still unaware of the way his gaze lingered longer than it should, he finally understood one thing:

He was falling.

Harder than he expected.

Wonwoo never noticed how much you went out of your way for him until someone else pointed it out.

“Why do you always do Wonwoo’s extra analysis?” Dr. Choi Seungcheol asked one afternoon, standing beside you as you poured over slides. “You could just tell him to do it himself.”

You opened your mouth to defend him, but Seungcheol smirked knowingly. “Ah, I see. Never mind.”

It wasn’t until Jihoon and Seungcheol started teasing him about you during lunch breaks that Wonwoo began to notice. It started with small things—how you’d grab his coffee unprompted or ensure the lab stayed quiet during his most intense focus sessions. But then he saw it: the little glances, the way your hand hesitated before passing him a file as if nervous to brush against his.

Wonwoo wasn’t one for distractions, but for the first time, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

It hit him hard one evening when you showed up with a bandaged hand after accidentally cutting yourself. You brushed it off, joking that you weren’t as precise as he was, but he couldn’t shake the pang of concern in his chest. The thought of you getting hurt—even in small, clumsy ways—was suddenly unbearable.

For the first time in his career, Jeon Wonwoo felt something stronger than his drive for discovery. Something about you had slipped through the cracks of his one-track mind, and he realized he had fallen—deeply, unexpectedly, and far harder than he ever anticipated.

Director Lee Jihoon had seen the signs long before Wonwoo ever did. With years of experience in the medical field—and as someone who’d witnessed countless dynamics between staff—Jihoon had an uncanny ability to read the subtle shifts in interpersonal relationships. And he had been watching, waiting for the moment when Wonwoo would stop denying what was right in front of him.

It was late one evening when Jihoon decided it was time to intervene. The hospital was nearly empty, and Wonwoo was buried in a pile of case files in his usual spot in the lab. Jihoon stood at the doorway for a moment, watching him with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

“Wonwoo,” Jihoon called out, stepping into the lab with a knowing smile.

Wonwoo looked up, his face still half-focused on the case at hand. “Hmm?”

Jihoon casually leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. “Do you realize that you’re completely oblivious to the way she looks at you?

Wonwoo blinked, completely unaware of what Jihoon meant. “What do you mean?”

“Y/N,” Jihoon said flatly, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “The pathologist you’re always working with. The one who’s always doing everything for you without asking for anything in return.”

Wonwoo frowned, still confused. “She’s just… my colleague.”

Dr. Choi Seungcheol, who had been quietly observing the entire conversation from the doorway, sighed heavily and entered the room, shaking his head. “Wonwoo, you’re like a goldfish sometimes. She’s not just your colleague. She’s practically throwing herself at you, and you’re just sitting there with your nose in the slides.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Wonwoo protested, though a small flicker of uncertainty began to show on his face.

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “Listen, Wonwoo, I’m not saying you need to do anything about it—hell, I’m not sure you even know what to do about it. But if you don’t start paying attention to her sooner or later, someone else will.”

Seungcheol gave a small chuckle at that. “You’re lucky she hasn’t slapped you yet. She’s too nice to do that, but… come on. Pay attention to what’s happening under your nose.”

Wonwoo opened his mouth to argue, but the truth was, something had begun to click in his head. He had noticed the way you had always been there for him—quietly, without any demands—and how that made him feel… comfortable, like he could finally exhale after a long day. But he hadn’t thought about it beyond that.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Wonwoo muttered, still slightly in denial, but Jihoon wasn’t going to let him off that easily.

“And for the love of health, talk to her,” Jihoon added. “Or I’ll make Seungcheol drag you both into couples counselling with Seokmin.”

Wonwoo’s face turned red, and Seungcheol laughed loudly, clapping him on the back. “Good luck with that, man. We’ll be rooting for you.”

There was a Shift in the Air after the interventions from both sides had planted seeds of doubt and possibility in both you and Wonwoo. They hadn’t made it easy—in fact, they had only complicated things. But now, the next move was yours. The next move was his. And the hospital’s air was thick with the anticipation of what was to come.

The turning point was a late Friday evening, and you were reviewing slides when Wonwoo appeared at your desk, uncharacteristically hesitant.

“Do you want to grab dinner?” he asked, his ears a faint shade of pink.

You blinked, confused. “Dinner?”

“Yes,” he said firmly this time, though his voice still carried a nervous edge. “It’s the least I can do. For everything.”

You smiled, heat rising to your cheeks as you followed him out. Unbeknownst to you, Wonwoo’s thoughts were in overdrive, determined to finally show you the depth of how far he had fallen—harder than either of you could have imagined.

Your brain short-circuited.

Dinner? With him? Like… just the two of you?

“Sorry, what?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Wonwoo’s brow furrowed slightly, as though he hadn’t anticipated your disbelief. “Dinner. You and me. I thought it might be nice to talk about something other than work for a change.”

You stared at him, the words registering but not making sense. You’d spent so long convincing yourself that he saw you as nothing more than a colleague, a reliable teammate in the lab. And now here he was, casually asking you to dinner like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Uh… I—” you started, feeling your cheeks flush. You tried to form a coherent sentence, but all that came out was, “Are you… serious?”

Wonwoo tilted his head, his expression softening slightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You blinked, trying to keep your cool, but your heart was racing. He was serious. Wonwoo was asking you to dinner.

“I mean, yeah,” you stammered, finally managing to pull yourself together. “Sure. Dinner sounds great.”

His lips curved into a small smile—barely there, but enough to send your pulse into overdrive. “Good. I’ll text you the place.”

And just like that, he turned and walked out of the lab, leaving you sitting there in stunned silence.

The moment the door swung shut behind him, you dropped your head into your hands, muffling a groan. What just happened? Did you dream that entire exchange?

Your friend, who had been lurking nearby with her ever-present clipboard, peeked around the corner. “Did he just—”

“Yes,” you cut her off, your voice muffled by your hands.

Her grin was downright smug. “Took him long enough.”

“Don’t,” you groaned, lifting your head to glare at her. “I’m already freaking out.”

She shrugged, completely unfazed. “Relax. It’s just dinner. You’ve spent more time with him in this lab than most couples do in their first year of dating. You’ll be fine.”

“That’s not helping,” you muttered, though a small part of you was grateful for her attempt at humour.

But as the initial shock wore off, a new feeling began to take its place—anticipation. Because for the first time, it felt like the unspoken connection between you and Wonwoo was finally becoming something real. Something worth exploring.

And you couldn’t wait to see where it would lead.

After Wonwoo left the lab, the rest of your shift felt like a blur. You went through the motions of organizing case files and clearing your workstation, but your thoughts kept circling back to his invitation.

You replayed his words over and over in your head, searching for any sign that it was anything more than a casual dinner. But there had been something in his tone—something quieter, more deliberate. It didn’t feel like a spur-of-the-moment decision.

By the time you got home, you were torn between nervous excitement and full-on panic. What were you supposed to wear? Was this dinner supposed to be casual, or was it more of a… date?

Your best friend texted you, clearly not done meddling:

Bestie: Don’t overthink it. Wear something that makes you feel confident.

You: Define “confident.”

Bestie: The outfit you’d pick if you knew you’d be confessing tonight. ;)

You: …I’m blocking you.

Bestie: Love you too.

Her teasing didn’t help much, but you managed to settle on something simple yet flattering—a look that said, “I didn’t try too hard, but I still look good.”

The restaurant Wonwoo picked wasn’t overly fancy, but it wasn’t a hole-in-the-wall either. It was cosy, with soft lighting and a menu that hinted at thoughtful planning. When you arrived, you found him already there, sitting at a table near the window.

Wonwoo wasn’t dressed up, but he wasn’t in his usual scrubs either. He looked… nice. Too nice. You almost tripped over yourself walking up to the table.

“Hey,” you said, your voice slightly higher-pitched than usual.

He stood up as you approached, giving you a small, polite smile. “You made it.”

“Of course,” you replied, sitting down and trying not to overanalyse the way he pulled out your chair.

The conversation started off light—work, the cases you were both juggling, and a few jokes about Seungcheol’s over-the-top antics in the ER. But as the meal progressed, something shifted.

Wonwoo leaned forward, his gaze unusually focused on you, even by his standards. “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

You blinked, your nerves spiking. “What’s that?”

He hesitated for a moment, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of his glass. “Why do you always stay so late at the lab? You’re one of the best at what you do—you don’t need to put in all those extra hours.”

The question caught you off guard, and you laughed softly, trying to play it off. “Well, someone has to keep up with you.”

He didn’t laugh. His gaze remained steady, almost searching. “That’s not what I meant.”

You faltered, suddenly unsure of how to answer. Should you tell him the truth? That you stayed late because you wanted to be near him, because those quiet hours in the lab with him had become the highlight of your day?

“I guess…” you started, your voice softer now, “I just like being there. It feels… meaningful. Like the work we do actually matters.”

Wonwoo nodded slowly, but you could tell he wasn’t completely satisfied with your answer. “And it has nothing to do with me?”

Your breath hitched.

You glanced up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. His expression was calm, as always, but there was an intensity in his eyes that made it impossible to look away.

“I…” You swallowed hard, the words caught in your throat. “I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“I notice everything,” he said quietly, his voice steady but his gaze impossibly soft. “I just didn’t know what to do about it.”

Your eyes widened, your mind racing. Was he saying what you thought he was saying?

Before you could respond, he continued, his tone more deliberate now. “You’ve been there for me in ways I didn’t even realize I needed. And I… I think I’ve been taking that for granted. But I don’t want to anymore.”

Your heart felt like it was about to burst. “Wonwoo, I—”

He reached across the table, his hand brushing yours in a gesture so gentle it almost broke you. “Let me make it up to you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Starting with tonight.”

You stared at him, overwhelmed by the vulnerability in his expression, the sincerity in his words. And for the first time, you let yourself believe that this wasn’t just a one-sided crush anymore.

“Okay,” you said, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside you. “Let’s start with tonight.”

And as the two of you sat there, the walls that had always separated you began to crumble, piece by piece.

The dinner had been… perfect. You couldn’t stop smiling as the two of you stepped out of the restaurant into the crisp evening air. The streets were quieter now, with just a few couples and late-night wanderers strolling under the warm glow of streetlights.

Wonwoo walked beside you, his hands stuffed in his coat pockets, his gaze flickering between the pavement and the horizon. He looked calm on the surface, but you noticed the small signs of his nerves—how he kept adjusting his pace to match yours, the way his fingers fidgeted inside his pockets, and the soft furrow of his brows like he was lost in thought.

“Did you enjoy it?” he asked suddenly, glancing at you.

“The dinner?” you replied, smiling up at him. “It was amazing. Thank you for inviting me.”

He nodded, his lips twitching like he wanted to say more but couldn’t quite find the words.

You decided to keep the conversation light. “I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d pick such a nice spot. I kind of pictured you as more of a ‘grab-a-burger-on-the-way-home’ type.”

That earned you a soft chuckle, and the sound made your chest feel warm. “I wanted it to be nice,” he said simply, his voice low.

You bit your lip, feeling your heart flutter at how earnest he sounded.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence as you walked, the night air carrying the faint scent of flowers from a nearby park. But there was something in the air between you—an unspoken tension that had been building since the moment he’d asked you to dinner.

When you glanced at him again, you noticed his jaw was set, his eyes focused on the path ahead. He was hesitating about something, and you could almost feel the weight of his thoughts.

“Wonwoo,” you said softly, stopping in your tracks.

He turned to you, his eyes wide with surprise. “What is it?”

You took a step closer, tilting your head to meet his gaze. “You’re holding back,” you said, your voice steady but gentle. “What’s on your mind?”

His lips parted, but no words came out at first. He looked away, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. “I just… I don’t want to mess this up.”

You frowned, confused. “Mess what up?”

“This,” he said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “I’m not… good at this. At knowing what to say, or how to act. I’ve never really…” He trailed off, his voice barely audible now. “I’ve never done this before.”

Your heart ached at how vulnerable he sounded, how out of his depth he seemed. For all his brilliance and confidence in the lab, here he was, fumbling through emotions he didn’t quite know how to express.

“Wonwoo,” you said softly, stepping even closer. “You don’t have to know everything. You’re allowed to feel things and figure them out as you go.”

He met your eyes then, his gaze filled with a mix of uncertainty and longing. “But what if I ruin it? What if I don’t do this right?”

You smiled, your heart swelling at how genuine he was. “You’re doing fine,” you whispered.

Before he could respond, before his nerves could talk him out of it again, you closed the distance between you and cupped his face in your hands. His eyes widened in surprise, and for a split second, he froze.

Then you kissed him.

It wasn’t rushed or desperate—just a soft, lingering press of your lips against his, a gentle reassurance that he didn’t have to overthink everything.

Wonwoo’s hands hovered awkwardly at first, unsure of where to go, but then they found your waist, his grip tentative yet firm. He kissed you back slowly, like he was trying to memorize every detail, every sensation.

When you finally pulled back, his face was flushed, his lips slightly parted, and his eyes were wide with wonder.

“See?” you said, your voice teasing but warm. “You didn’t mess anything up.”

He blinked at you, still processing what had just happened, and then—slowly—he smiled. It wasn’t one of his usual polite or reserved smiles. It was soft and real, a glimpse of the man behind the walls he kept so carefully guarded.

“Can we… do that again?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You laughed, your hands still resting against his chest. “I thought you’d never ask.”

And this time, when he leaned in, there was no hesitation.

The second kiss was slower, more deliberate, and yet there was a new energy behind it. Wonwoo’s grip on your waist tightened, his nervousness giving way to something warmer, something more certain. He was still shy, still tentative, but there was no mistaking the way he leaned into you now, as if he didn’t want to let go.

When you pulled back again, his forehead rested against yours, his breath uneven. You could feel his heart racing, his fingers fidgeting slightly where they rested on your waist.

You smiled, brushing a strand of his hair back from his face. “Relax,” you teased gently. “You’re doing just fine.”

Wonwoo let out a soft laugh, but it was tinged with a nervous edge. “I—I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admitted, his voice shaky but honest. “But I know I—”

He stopped abruptly, as if realizing he was about to say too much. His hands dropped from your waist, and he took a small step back, raking a hand through his hair.

You tilted your head, watching him carefully. “You know you… what?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, his brows furrowing. It was clear he was trying to gather his thoughts, but they seemed to be tumbling out faster than he could process them.

“I just—” He exhaled sharply, looking almost frustrated with himself. “I need you,” he blurted out suddenly, the words spilling out before he could stop them.

Your breath hitched.

He froze, his eyes wide as if he couldn’t believe he’d said it aloud. “I mean—” He started waving his hands awkwardly, stumbling over his words. “Not like that—not just like that. I mean, yes, like that, but also—” He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This isn’t coming out right.”

You couldn’t help it—you laughed, the sound soft but genuine. “Wonwoo,” you said, reaching out to take his hands in yours.

He looked up at you, his cheeks flushed, his expression a mix of panic and vulnerability.

“It’s okay,” you said, squeezing his hands gently. “You don’t have to explain everything right now.”

“But I do,” he insisted, his voice quieter now but no less urgent. “I need you to know… you’re not just someone I work with. You’re not just…” He trailed off, his brows knitting together as he searched for the right words. “You mean more to me than I’ve ever let on, and I don’t want to mess this up because I don’t know how to say it.”

Your chest tightened, warmth spreading through you at his honesty.

“You don’t have to have all the answers right now,” you said softly, your thumbs brushing over the back of his hands. “Just tell me what you’re feeling.”

Wonwoo hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping to where your hands were intertwined. Then he looked up again, his eyes meeting yours with a quiet intensity.

“I feel like I’ve been walking around in my own little world for so long,” he admitted. “But then you came along, and suddenly, everything felt… different. Like the world wasn’t just mine anymore. Like I finally had someone to share it with.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you smiled through them, your heart swelling at his words.

“Wonwoo,” you whispered, stepping closer.

He swallowed hard, his voice barely audible now. “I’m scared I’ll mess it up, but I’m more scared of not trying. Because I don’t think I can go back to pretending I don’t feel this way about you.”

You cupped his face in your hands again, your thumbs brushing against his jawline. “Then don’t pretend,” you said simply.

His breath hitched, and before he could overthink it, you kissed him again—this time with everything you’d been holding back for so long. And when he kissed you back, there was no hesitation, no uncertainty—just the two of you, finally on the same page.

When you pulled back, his smile was brighter than you’d ever seen it. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he admitted, his voice still tinged with wonder.

“Actually,” you teased, grinning up at him, “I think I have a pretty good idea.”

He laughed softly, his hands settling at your waist again. “I really do need you,” he said, quieter this time but no less sincere.

“And you have me,” you replied, your heart feeling lighter than it had in months. “You always have.”

For the first time, the awkwardness between you felt like it had melted away, leaving only the truth of what had been there all along.

The energy between you and Wonwoo had shifted completely after that kiss. There was a warmth in the air, a quiet kind of joy that neither of you wanted to ruin with too many words. The city seemed to fade into the background as the two of you strolled side by side, your shoulders occasionally brushing.

Wonwoo’s hand hovered near yours, like he wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure if he should. You smiled to yourself, deciding to help him out. Without a word, you slipped your hand into his.

He stiffened for a moment, surprised, but then his fingers curled around yours, his grip steady and firm.

“Is this okay?” you asked, glancing up at him.

He nodded quickly, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah. More than okay.”

The quiet continued, comfortable but charged with the promise of something more. When your apartment building came into view, you slowed your steps, suddenly hyper-aware of what this might mean.

“Do you… want to come up?” you asked softly, stopping in front of the entrance.

Wonwoo blinked at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then his lips curved into a small, nervous smile. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” you said, squeezing his hand gently. “Unless you don’t want to.”

“I do,” he said quickly, his ears turning pink. “I just… I don’t want to assume anything. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

His earnestness made your heart ache in the best way. “You’re not making me uncomfortable,” you reassured him. “I just want to spend more time with you.”

That seemed to ease his nerves a bit, and he followed you inside, his hand still clasped tightly in yours.

Your apartment was warm and inviting, filled with little touches of your personality—books stacked on the coffee table, a throw blanket draped over the couch, a few plants by the windowsill. Wonwoo looked around, taking it all in with quiet curiosity.

“It’s nice,” he said, his voice soft. “Feels like you.”

You smiled, setting your bag down. “Thanks. Make yourself comfortable. Do you want anything to drink?”

“Water’s fine,” he said, but he didn’t move to sit. Instead, he stood by the window, his hands in his pockets as he gazed out at the city lights.

When you brought him a glass of water, he turned to you with a small smile. “Thanks.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of the evening, of everything that had happened, hung in the air between you.

“Wonwoo,” you said softly, setting your own glass down.

He looked at you, his gaze searching. “Yeah?”

“I just want you to know…” You hesitated, trying to find the right words. “I’m not expecting anything. I invited you up because I wanted to spend more time with you, not because I—”

“I know,” he interrupted gently, stepping closer. “I know that.”

His hand came up to cup your cheek, his touch tentative but warm. “I’m still figuring all of this out,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I know one thing for sure—I don’t want to let this, let you, slip away.”

Your chest tightened at his words, and before you could respond, he leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

“For what?” you asked, your voice just as quiet.

“For being patient with me,” he said, his lips brushing against yours in the lightest of touches. “For letting me feel this. For letting me… need you.”

You didn’t reply—not with words, anyway. Instead, you closed the small distance between you, kissing him with all the tenderness you’d been holding back.

And this time, when his arms wrapped around you, it felt like coming home.

The morning after at SVT MED began as usual—the hum of machines, the shuffle of papers, and the quiet murmur of professionals focused on their work. You walked into the pathology wing, coffee in hand, your thoughts still replaying last night’s moments like a favourite song.

Your attempt to appear nonchalant was immediately foiled when Dr. Choi Seungcheol leaned against the counter, his sharp eyes glinting with amusement.

“Morning,” he greeted casually, his smirk betraying the innocence of his tone.

“Morning,” you replied with practiced neutrality, heading straight for your desk.

As you settled in, his gaze lingered. You could feel it. Finally, he chuckled, low and teasing. “You’re glowing.”

You shot him a side-eye glare but refused to engage further.

Before he could push the topic, Wonwoo entered the room. He moved with his usual quiet confidence, but something about him seemed… lighter. His shoulders weren’t as stiff, and there was a subtle brightness in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

“Good morning,” he said simply, his voice softer than usual.

“Morning,” you replied, your stomach doing a little flip at the way his gaze briefly lingered on you.

Seungcheol’s sharp eyes darted between the two of you, his smirk deepening. “Huh, interesting.” he muttered, amused, before leaving you both to the quiet tension that remained.

Later in the day, Jihoon made his rounds through the pathology wing. His keen gaze swept over the lab, stopping briefly at the sight of Wonwoo and you standing side by side.

Wonwoo, known for his one-track focus and preference for solitude, was suddenly handing you reports himself, consulting you on cases he normally handled solo, and—most damningly—smiling in your direction.

Jihoon turned to Seungcheol, who was watching the scene unfold from his usual perch near the counter. “Am I imagining things, or has Wonwoo finally realized what’s been in front of him this whole time?”

Seungcheol grinned knowingly. “It only took a miracle, Director. I wouldn’t call him quick, but he’s thorough once he catches on.”

Jihoon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You mean to tell me this whole time she’s been pining after him, and he’s just now waking up?”

“Patience is a virtue,” Seungcheol said with a smirk. “Besides, you can’t rush Wonwoo. His brain moves at its own pace.”

Jihoon shook his head, muttering something about oblivious geniuses, before moving on.

As Jihoon walked away, Seungcheol glanced at the clock, his expression briefly tightening. His normally laid-back demeanour shifted ever so slightly, his shoulders stiffening as though some invisible weight had settled on him.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, glancing at the screen, and quickly silenced it.

“Busy night ahead, Dr. Choi?” Jihoon’s voice startled him, the director’s sharp eyes catching the slight tension in Seungcheol’s posture.

“Always,” Seungcheol replied smoothly, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

Jihoon paused, his brows furrowing slightly. “Make sure whatever’s pulling at you doesn’t affect your focus here. Lives depend on it.”

Seungcheol gave a tight nod, his jaw clenching as he turned away. As he exited the lab, the faintest trace of guilt flickered across his face, disappearing as quickly as it came.

Outside, his phone buzzed again. This time, he checked it—a short, urgent message from a familiar number. “Same place as always. Don’t be late.”

Seungcheol exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before heading toward the trauma wing.

By the time the workday ended, the lab had mostly emptied out, leaving only you and Wonwoo. The silence was filled with the quiet hum of the machines, but the tension between you was warm, not awkward.

Wonwoo approached your desk, his hands tucked into his coat pockets. “Do you have plans tonight?” he asked, his voice careful but tinged with hope.

You looked up at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Not really. Why?”

“I thought maybe we could have dinner again,” he said, his eyes flicking nervously to yours. “If you’re not too tired.”

Your heart skipped, but you played it cool. “I’d love that.”

The way his face lit up made your chest feel lighter, and as the two of you walked out of the lab together, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something wonderful was just beginning.

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[whitesugarbaybee]

Life Hack?

You stepped into the house, excited to show off Kkuma’s fresh cut and her tiny pink bow that matched your own. But the moment you set foot inside, your jaw dropped. Bubbles. Everywhere. The kitchen looked like the set of a cartoon gone wrong, foam spilling over the countertops and onto the floor like a sea of chaos.

Kkuma barked in confusion, darting behind your legs as you took in the scene. Then you spotted him: Seungcheol, standing in the middle of it all, holding a mop in one hand and a kitchen towel in the other, looking like a kid caught raiding the cookie jar.

“What in the world happened here?” you asked, barely able to keep the exasperation out of your voice.

He scratched the back of his neck, sheepish. “So... I saw this hack online about using extra soap in the dishwasher to make it clean better, and, uh... turns out, they lied.”

You blinked at him, utterly incredulous. “Extra soap? How much extra soap are we talking about here?”

He hesitated, not meeting your gaze. “...A couple squirts of dish soap and maybe some laundry detergent?”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Seungcheol, dishwashers aren’t meant for that! Haven’t you ever seen a sitcom? This is the classic disaster move!”

He gave you a guilty smile, leaning on the mop. “In my defense, the video made it look like it would work.”

“And now what? You’ve turned my kitchen into a bubble bath!”

Kkuma let out a disgruntled whine, sniffing at the nearest mound of foam. You sighed, setting your purse down and rolling up your sleeves. “Alright, move over, Mr. Scientist. Let’s fix this mess.”

Together, you scooped and mopped, laughing when a particularly large bubble popped in his face. “This is on you,” you teased, shoving some foam onto his nose.“

Oh, I know,” he replied, grinning. “But hey, at least the kitchen smells really clean, right?”

By the time the bubbles were finally under control, you were both soaked and sitting on the now-dry kitchen floor, Kkuma perched happily between you.

Seungcheol looked at you, wiping a stray bubble from your cheek. “Next time, I’ll leave the hacks to you.”

“Damn right you will,” you said, smirking as you leaned into his shoulder. “But hey, at least Kkuma’s bow didn’t get ruined.”

“She does look pretty fancy,” he admitted, scratching her behind the ears.

“And next time you feel the urge to experiment,” you added, shooting him a playful glare, “maybe just stick to cooking. Less cleanup, fewer bubbles.”

He laughed, pulling you closer. “Deal. But only if you promise to keep looking this cute while scolding me.”

“Don’t push your luck, Choi Seungcheol.”

[whitesugarbaybee]

What to do

You stride into Jungwon’s office with a playful smirk, shutting the door behind you. He barely glances up from his papers, a soft hum of acknowledgment escaping as you sit on the edge of his desk.

“I was just thinking,” you start, tracing a finger along the edge of his planner, “I really, really love it when you tell me what to do in the bedroom.”

That gets his attention. Jungwon’s pen stills, and his dark eyes slowly flicker up to meet yours, curiosity and amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, is that so?” he asks, leaning back in his chair, the perfect picture of composed interest.

“Mhm,” you confirm, leaning closer, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “It’s hot.”

For a moment, he seems to consider it, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips. But then, just when you think he’s about to pull you into his lap, he sits up straight and flips the script entirely.

“Good to know,” he says smoothly, grabbing a sticky note and a pen. “Let’s start with some instructions, then.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Wait, what?”

He jots something down and sticks the note to your hand with a teasing smirk. “Laundry’s piling up. Go ahead and fold that for me.”

“Jungwon—”

“And since you’re so good at following directions,” he continues, cutting you off, “clean out the fridge. It’s starting to look like a science experiment in there.”

Your jaw drops. “I was talking about—”

“Oh, and don’t forget the vacuuming. There’s a ton of crumbs under the couch,” he adds, his tone light, almost gleeful. “After that, maybe we’ll circle back to what else you love me telling you to do.”

You stare at him, mouth agape, as he goes right back to his paperwork as if he didn’t just completely derail your attempt to seduce him.

“Are you serious right now?” you ask, half laughing, half indignant.

Jungwon glances at you, one eyebrow raised, his smirk deepening. “Do I look like I’m joking, babygirl?”

You groan but slide off the desk, the sticky note still in your hand. “This is not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Consider it foreplay,” he calls after you as you head for the door, his chuckle chasing you down the hallway.

As you walk off grumbling about cheeky men and their smugness, you can’t help but smile.

He’d definitely make it worth your while later.

[whitesugarbaybee]

14:10

“Okay,” Jungwon says as he parks the car in front of IKEA, glancing at you with a serious expression. “We’re here for a shelf. Just a shelf. Nothing else.”

You nod, overly innocent. “Just a shelf. Got it.”

Inside, the plan unravels almost immediately.

The hypnotic maze of furniture and home goods pulls you in like a moth to a flame.

“Oh my gosh, Jungwon, look at this!” you squeal, holding up a pastel throw pillow. “It would match the couch perfectly!”

He raises an eyebrow. “We already have pillows.”

“Not these pillows,” you argue, hugging it to your chest. “Feel how soft it is.”

He sighs, giving it a reluctant squeeze. “Okay, it’s soft, but we don’t need it.”

You pout, trailing after him as he pushes the cart toward the shelves. Then you spot something else. “What about this mirror? It’s perfect for the entryway.”

“Didn’t you just buy a mirror last month?” he asks, not even breaking stride.

“Yes, but this one has gold trim! It’s so chic,” you counter, trying to maneuver it into the cart.

He grabs the mirror before you can. “Put it back.”

You groan dramatically but comply. “You’re no fun.”

Ten minutes later, you’ve somehow convinced him to let you carry around a tiny plant and matching pots.

“See, this is practical,” you say, gesturing to the plant. “It’ll purify the air.”

Jungwon rubs his temple. “The air is fine. We don’t need a plant.”

“We do, though!” you insist. “It’ll brighten up the room!”

He doesn’t even fight you this time. “Fine. But just this. No more—” He cuts himself off when he sees you already eyeing a rug. “Nope. Don’t even think about it.”

“It’s on sale!” you argue, dragging him toward the display.

“You don’t even know where we’d put it!” he exclaims, laughing despite himself as you try to justify it.

By the time you make it to the shelving section, the cart is half-full with candles, picture frames, and a lamp you claimed was “too cute to leave behind.” Jungwon sighs, glancing at the cart. “This was supposed to be a quick trip.”

“You’re the one who brought me to IKEA,” you retort with a cheeky grin. “This is on you.”

He shakes his head but leans down to kiss your forehead. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

You beam at him. “I know.”

[seungcheol-enthusiast]

sound_of_coups ig update today 🍜♥️

Why does he look more edible than the food 😩

[whitesugarbaybee]

18:38 | S.JY

The moment you say, "Let's break up," Jake's playful smile falters for a split second before he processes your words.

He tilts his head, eyes narrowing. “Haha, you’re adorable,” he says, trying to read your expression.

“I’m serious,” you say, crossing your arms and doing your best to look convincing.

Jake’s lips twitch as he leans back against the counter, crossing his own arms mockingly. “And I’m Cristiano Ronaldo,” he says with a smirk.

You glare at him, refusing to crack.

But then, his entire demeanor shifts. He steps closer, his hands sliding into his hoodie pockets as he towers over you. His gaze softens, filled with that undeniable Jake warmth. “You’re not going to survive without me,” he says, his tone firm but teasing, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

When you try to open your mouth to protest, he cuts you off, his voice low but steady. “This is for life, Sugar. You’re stuck with me, and I’m stuck with you.”

Your breath catches as he leans in, close enough for you to feel his breath. His hands come out of his pockets, gently framing your face. “Stop talking nonsense,” he whispers, “and kiss me.”

The fight in you crumbles as his lips brush yours. You melt into him, gripping his hoodie as he holds you close. When he pulls back, just enough to meet your gaze, there’s a smug glint in his eye.

“See? Told you this was for life,” he says, stealing another kiss before you can even think of a comeback.

[whitesugarbaybee]

14:37 | C.SC

WC: 644

Warning: hospital

As you began to stir, the medication still making you loopy, your first coherent word was, “Husband.”

The nurse nearby chuckled softly, adjusting your IV. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Choi. Your husband stepped out to grab some water. He’ll be right back.”

“Nooo,” You whined dramatically, your words slurring. “He might be lost. My husband gets so distracted sometimes. Can you go find him? He’s really tall and handsome, and he loves me so much.”

The nurse’s smile widened as she tried to reassure you. “I’m sure he’s fine. He’ll be back any second.”

“Okay, but—my husband! He’s the best husband,” You continued, flopping your head to the side with a blissful grin. “He makes me tea, buys me guava-free snacks, and oh, have you seen his dimples? Perfect. Like, chef’s kiss.”

At that moment, Seungcheol walked back into the room with a cup of water and raised an eyebrow, clearly having heard your animated rambling. “I leave for two minutes, and you’re already embarrassing me?”

Your face lit up when you saw him. “There’s my husband! Nurse, see? I told you he’d come back. He always comes back. My Cheollie.”

The nurse stifled a laugh and excused herself, leaving the two of you alone. Seungcheol approached the bed, setting the cup on the side table as he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“You’ve been giving everyone quite the show, huh?” he teased, sitting down beside you.

“Just telling them the truth,” you slurred, reaching for his hand. “You’re my husband, and you’re perfect. Even when you smell like antiseptic because of me.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You’re unbelievable, Cherry.”

“I know,” You whispered with a dramatic sigh, your eyelids fluttering shut. “But you married me anyway.”

“And I’d do it again,” he murmured, watching as you dozed off with a soft smile still on your lips.

As you drifted into a more peaceful sleep, Seungcheol stayed by your side, stroking your hand with his thumb and watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest. Your earlier antics replayed in his head, and he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. You were always the life of the party, even in a hospital bed.

A soft knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. The nurse peeked in, smiling knowingly. “She’s quite the chatterbox, isn’t she? Loopy patients are usually quiet, but your wife’s been keeping everyone entertained.”

Seungcheol rubbed the back of his neck, trying to hide the bashful grin that spread across his face. “She’s... spirited. Keeps life interesting.”

“She’s also a lucky woman to have you,” the nurse said kindly. “Not all husbands are so attentive. I’ve seen how you’ve been here every step of the way.”

Seungcheol nodded, his gaze softening as he looked back at you. “She’s my everything. There’s no place I’d rather be.”

As the nurse left, you stirred slightly, mumbling something under your breath. Seungcheol leaned closer to catch it.

“Cheollie... don’t let them take my snacks,” You murmured, your voice barely audible.

He stifled a laugh, shaking his head. “No one’s taking your snacks, Cherry. You’re safe.”

Your eyes fluttered open just a sliver, and you looked at him with a dazed but adoring expression. “Promise?”

“I promise,” he said softly, brushing a kiss over your knuckles.

You gave a little hum of satisfaction before your eyes closed again, your grip on his hand tightening slightly as if to anchor yourself to him even in your dreams.

For the rest of the evening, Seungcheol stayed by your side, ensuring you were comfortable and watching over you with a quiet devotion that only grew stronger with each passing moment. In your vulnerability, he felt even more resolved to protect you, love you, and cherish every quirky, dramatic, and sweet part of the woman he called his wife.

Masterlist

[whitesugarbaybee]

06:45 | S.JY

WC: 421

Note: Living with college Jake

...

The mornings in your shared apartment quickly became a beautiful chaos—a routine that was more about rhythm than order.

The alarm would blare at 6:30 a.m., and Jake would groan, burying his face deeper into your pillow. “Five more minutes,” he’d mumble, his voice muffled by the fabric.

“Uh-uh, Jakey,” you’d reply, already slipping out of bed. “If you’re late for class again, the dean’s gonna blame me for keeping you up all night.”

He’d crack one eye open, a cheeky grin tugging at his lips. “Well, you do keep me up all night.”

“Out of bed, Sim,” you’d retort, pulling the blanket off him with a playful tug.

As he stumbled into the shower, you’d head to the kitchen, pulling out ingredients for breakfast. Eggs frying in the pan, toast popping up from the toaster, and the smell of coffee brewing filled the air. You’d glance at the clock, timing everything perfectly because Jake was notoriously bad at keeping track.

By the time he dashed out of the bathroom, half-dressed with his shirt barely buttoned, you’d have a plate of food waiting for him on the counter.

“Eat,” you’d command, placing a travel mug of coffee next to his plate. “You’re not going to survive on campus with just caffeine and vibes.”

“I’m surviving on love and vibes, thank you very much,” he’d quip, shoveling eggs into his mouth as you handed him his neatly organized papers and assignments.

“Uh-huh,” you’d reply, straightening his tie or fixing his collar while he stood there, munching.

Jake would tornado through the apartment, grabbing his backpack, forgetting his keys, then doubling back to kiss you on the cheek. “What would I do without you?” he’d say, his lips brushing yours.

“Be a hot mess,” you’d tease, shooing him toward the door. “Now go, or you’ll miss your first lecture.”

The door would slam behind him, and the apartment would fall quiet for a moment. You’d sip your coffee, smiling to yourself as you imagined the whirlwind he was on campus, already texting you funny stories about his classmates or professors before he even made it to his seat.

Mornings with Jake were never boring, and even though he was a chaotic mess, you loved being the calm in his storm—the one who made sure his days started off right. And as much as he tornadoed around, you knew he’d always pause just long enough to kiss you before he left, reminding you that even in the rush, you were his anchor.

Masterlist

[whitesugarbaybee]

07:52 | C.SC

WC: 443

Warning: period

....

You lay sprawled dramatically on the couch, clutching a notebook and pen as if your life depended on it. Your heating pad sat neglected, and every now and then, you let out a groan that echoed through the apartment.

“Cheol!” you wailed, scribbling furiously in your notebook. “I don’t think I’ll make it this time.”

Seungcheol, who was at the kitchen counter peeling an orange, glanced up, unimpressed. “Mhm, what is it this time?”

“My last will and testament,” you said solemnly, holding up the notebook like it was the Magna Carta. “I need you to witness it. Everything goes to you… except my skincare collection. That’s for Jeonghan. He’ll appreciate it.”

Seungcheol blinked at you, then reached for his phone. “You know what? I’m calling your mom.”

“No!” you gasped, clutching your chest like he’d just betrayed you. “Don’t bring her into this. Let me suffer in peace.”

Ignoring your protests, Seungcheol hit the call button. The line connected almost instantly.

“Mom?” he said, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah, it’s happening again. She’s writing a will this time.”

From the other end of the line, your mom burst into laughter. “Oh no, not the will again! What did she leave you this time?”

“Everything except her skincare,” Seungcheol replied, biting into his orange.

You flailed weakly on the couch, muttering, “Traitors. Both of you.”

“Put her on speaker,” your mom said, still giggling.

Seungcheol complied, setting the phone on the coffee table. “Go ahead, mom.”

“Listen, sweetie,” your mom’s voice came through, gentle but teasing. “You’ll survive. You’ve had worse, remember?”

“Not like this!” You wailed, tossing your notebook onto the floor. “This time it’s different! I can feel it!”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes fondly and leaned over to kiss your forehead. “You’re going to be fine, Cherry. But if you’re so convinced you won’t make it, do you want me to record a farewell message for Jeonghan about the skincare?”

You glared at him, throwing a pillow in his direction. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet, I’m still here taking care of you,” he replied, chuckling as he grabbed the pillow.

Your mom laughed again. “Cheol, just feed her something sweet and remind her she’s loved. That always works.”

“Already ahead of you, mom.”

As Seungcheol hung up and handed you a piece of the orange he’d peeled, you pouted but took it anyway.

“You’re lucky I love you,” you mumbled, chewing begrudgingly.

“And you’re lucky I’m used to your dramatics,” he teased, ruffling your curls.

With a grumble, you pulled him onto the couch and snuggled into his side. “You’re not allowed to leave me, okay?”

“Never,” he promised, wrapping his arms around you.

Masterlist

[whitesugarbaybee]

Competitions & Confessions | Lee Chan

Synopsis: It seemed that student doctor Lee Chan could never win anything when you were in the running. Until he did. Pairing: med student! Chan x med student fem! Reader (ft. Nurse! Soonyoung)

Genre: Doctor au, rivals2lovers crack, fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: mention of breathing issues/ medical issues, bickering (yes, that's a warning), a bunch of kissing

Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional. This fic contains incorrect medical information and is supposed to be taken as a work of fiction.

A/N: Welcome to our confident Dino’s fic for the Seventeen Med series. You can find the masterpost here.

Chan couldn’t quite pinpoint when exactly he fell for you. The pretty student nurse who seemed to always know exactly what to do.

Maybe it was back in university, whenever you’d answer faster than he did in class, score higher than him in tests, to the point that you even got accepted an internship as a nurse at SVT MED way before graduation. Whether or not you knew that that was his dream hospital since he got his arm patched up there years ago, he didn’t know, but it still got to him. Heck, you even did the social game better than him because it seemed that no matter what you did, people were drawn to you. But even so, you never gave him the time of day, not unless it was to tell him he was late for something.

Dr. Lee Jihoon had assigned the two of you as nurse and doctor. Meaning that whatever patients Chan had or studied, you followed. Of course, you, being you, would hardly follow him around unless one of the actual doctors or nurses clocked you for being somewhere else. However, even if you were where Chan was, you never let him take the reigns on anything, doing exactly what you would do in university and stealing the show before his number even came on.

The only reason you knew where he was around the hospital anyway was because your pagers were synced. And unlike right now, wherever he went, you went the opposite.

“What do we got?” You confidently and calmly asked the paramedics that rolled in a patient on a stretcher into the emergency department.

“Fifteen year old female collapsed during class due to a severe asthma attack. We put her on oxygen and gave a dose of adrenaline to open up her airway, but there was no response.” The paramedic speaks clearly and hands over the patients chart to Nurse. Kwon.

“Alright, Laura, we’ll take good care of you.” He speaks as calmly as possible to make sure the patient is responsive. “What can we do to help? Students?” He looks up and towards you and Chan.

“We give her Epinephrine?” Chan asks as they count to three and move the patient from the stretcher to one of the beds in the E.D.

“She’s already producing it, and her body isn’t responsive. We need to administer another dose of adrenaline to clear her airways.” You cut in, and nurse Kwon gives you an impressed nod.

“Someone’s been paying attention.” Nurse Kwon speaks and continues to direct the other nurses.

Another thing that Chan couldn’t pinpoint. Why you always seemed to know everything but never give him the chance to be right. Whatever he said, you had to disagree. It was like he was never good enough.

As you walked back out of Laura’s room after checking on her, you bumped into Chans chest.

“I know I’m your assigned student nurse, but you don’t need to be my shadow, Chan.” You chastise, giving him a pat on the chest, which was surprisingly firm, but you shook away the thought and went on to fill in some follow-up details on the patients form.

“Why do you always have to one-up me?” He asks from behind you.

“Excuse me?” You complete the form and hand it over to nurse Boo. Turning from the counter and towards the cafe.

“Anytime I make a diagnosis or a suggestion, you have to...” making a hand motion that replicates turning, “swoop in and make me look bad.” Chan matches your pace and complains.

You scoff at this, “It’s my job to assist you. Had we gone with your diagnosis, which, by the way, are a miss majority of the time, then we would have mistreated the patients. That’s who I care about. Making sure the patients are taken care of. Not your ego.” You reach the cafe, and the barista starts preparing your usual shot of espresso. You smile and thank her after paying with your hospital membership card.

“W-Well I care about the patients, too.” Chan follows you back towards the student break room, which you find empty as he holds the door open for you.

“Oh really?” You walk into the room and place your to-go cup on the table while you get your sandwich from your locker.

“Yeah.” He starts before fading off. “It’s just hard to think clearly with you around.” Chan confesses in frustration. This piques your attention, so you urge him to continue, and he sighs, avoiding your curious gaze. “You’re just really annoying.

Noting how flustered he is from his flushed neck and ears, you piece the puzzle together.

“So you liiikkkee me?” you tease with a smirk.

“I said you’re annoying. Don’t get ahead of yourself.” He deflects with a snarl.

“It’s not my fault you can’t keep up with the pressure, Lee.” You press on.

He knows you’re pushing his buttons. This is what you always do. This Tom and Jerry thing the two of you have had since university. But this ends today.

You barely register the click of the lock before your back is being pressed up against the wall, sandwich on the floor.

Chan stares down at you, jaw clenched and eyes dark. “I’m getting really tired of you always having something to say.” His hands grip your waist tight but not enough to bruise.

“Then why don’t you do something about it?” You challenge. You looked up at him through your lashes. “or am I finally wrong?”

A few tense moments pass before your lips are crushed with his own. An unexpected mix of desperation and emotion that has your head spinning. Your hands clutch onto the collar of his coat to tug him closer.

The rest of the world slips away, and it's only you and Chan.

Little did he know that he was the boy you’ve been head over heels for, for as long as you can remember. In hopes that he would finally see through your games and taunts and just put you in your place. But time and time again, he let you walk all over his ego, embarrassed him in front of his buddies and especially his seniors. It wasn’t to harm him or his career. Let’s just say you had childish tendencies of picking on the boy you liked.

You stayed away from him the majority of the time to control your own senseless rambles. The number of times you’ve wanted to just corner him and tell him how you’ve felt were uncharted. The number of times you’ve caught yourself smiling at the mere thought of him were… unspeakable.

His lips were even softer than you had imagined. You could taste all the coffee and candy he’s had to keep himself awake and alert. You opened up when he licked at your bottom lip and felt butterflies in your stomach when he met your tongue. This had to be a dream. Yeah. You probably hit your head somewhere and were sedated in one of the E.D rooms. Yup. That’s it.

It couldn’t have been a dream when he pulled you closer, if that were even possible, but he did. And you never wanted to be parted from his warmth. His scent was already driving you to a point of delusion, and you couldn’t get enough.

You knew your feelings couldn’t have been one-sided. He just kissed you. He got nervous. He, he.. gosh, he had to like you back. Right? Or was this really just his way of shutting you up?

When he feels his breath run out, he breaks the kiss with a soft pop, pecking your parted lips one more time before resting his forehead against yours.

“Was that – Did I- Are you okay?” Pulling back slightly, he stumbles over his words as he looks you over and asses you.

You can’t help but giggle a breathy sound that makes Chan blush. “That was perfect. And yeah, I’m okay.” You answer. “More than okay.” You smile up at him and wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. One that he returns softly. Sweeter than the previous ones.

“What did you mean?” He mumbles against your lips.

“Hm?” Your brows furrow slightly as you pull back to look at him.

“When you asked if you were wrong.” He recalls, his eyebrows cutely pinched together and you make a face of recollection.

You smile bashfully and tell him how you’ve had the fattest crush on him since UNI days and all you wanted was his attention…

“So you tease and torment me? What, are you five?” He chuckles amused by your confession, and you mistake it for rejection. Swallowing nothing and feeling the heat of embarrassment. Chan notices your change when your hands slide down from his shoulders to his chest and quickly recovers. “I mean, a simple ‘Hey, Chan. I like you.’ would have been better, no?” He lifts your chin with one finger to meet his gentle gaze.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Your smile is back, and he loves it all the more now that it’s solely for him.

The next time you’re bumping into him, he looks around before stealing a kiss. You grimace playfully every time, and he smiles triumphantly each time because he finally beat you at something.

It just happened to be confessing.

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Matters of the Heart

Synopsis: Medical Director Lee Jihoon finds himself battling with what he was trained to do. Which is to understand the heart. Pairing: Medical Director & cardiologist!Jihoon x secretary fem!readerGenre: Doctor au, silly pining, crack, fluff Word Count: 2.9k Warnings: mentions of medical information, teasing amongst friends, kissing Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional. This fic contains inaccurate medical information and is supposed to be taken as a work of fiction. A/N: Welcome to our serious Woozi fic for the Seventeen Med series. You can find the masterpost here.

Lee Jihoon wasn’t the type to let emotions interfere with work. As a former cardiologist turned hospital director, every decision he made was rooted in logic and control. At least, that’s what he told himself.

But lately, his mind wandered far too often to one person—his secretary, you. You had been with him for six months, handling every task with a precision that he deeply admired. Efficient, quick-witted, and always knowing just what he needed, you made his days easier.

Yet it wasn’t just your competence that occupied his thoughts. It was the way your smile lingered after one of your light-hearted jokes, how you remembered his favourite coffee order without him ever asking, and the way your voice softened when you said, “Director Lee.”

It was becoming a problem.

“Okay,” Mingyu announced as he plopped into the chair across from Jihoon’s desk. “I asked my patient out. Finally.”

Jihoon raised a brow, keeping his voice neutral. “Congratulations.”

“Don’t congratulate him yet.” Dr. Choi Seungcheol, a trauma surgeon with a sharp wit and an unfiltered mouth, leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Mingyu practically stalked her with ‘follow-up appointments’ to get there.”

Jihoon’s lips twitched, suppressing a smile. “How professional.”

Mingyu shrugged with a grin. “It worked, didn’t it? Which brings us to you, Jihoon.”

Jihoon gave him a flat look. “Me?”

Seungcheol smirked. “Don’t play dumb. When are you going to do something about your secretary?”

Jihoon shot them both a warning glare, but they were unfazed. “What are you two even talking about?”

Mingyu leaned forward on the desk. “Come on, Jihoon. You’re not exactly subtle. You’ve been heart-eyes over her for months.”

“Heart-eyes?” Jihoon scoffed. “You’ve lost your mind.”

“Right.” Seungcheol gave him a look. “The way you watch her walk across the office? It’s a miracle you hadn’t noticed.”

Before Jihoon could reply, a soft knock sounded at the door.

You peeked inside with your usual polite smile, holding a folder. “Director, here are the reports for the board meeting.” Your gaze flicked briefly to Mingyu and Seungcheol, who offered your grins that were far too amused. “Am I interrupting?”

“Not at all,” Seungcheol said, smirking.

Jihoon gave him a look that could kill but softened as he turned to you. “Thank you.”

When you handed him the folder, your fingers brushed against his briefly. Jihoon pretended not to notice how his heart jumped. “Anything else?”

“No, that’s all for now,” you said warmly.

As you left, Mingyu and Seungcheol watched Jihoon, identical grins spreading across their faces.

Seungcheol leaned closer. “You’re doomed.”

Mingyu clapped him on the shoulder. “It’s okay, Jihoon. We’ll still respect you—after you confess.”

Jihoon groaned. “Why do I even talk to you two?”

That night, Jihoon sat at his desk long after the hospital had quieted, his mind swirling with everything and nothing. Just as he started to consider heading home, there was a familiar knock on the door.

“You’re still here?” You asked, stepping in with two cups of coffee.

“You’re still here,” Jihoon countered, unable to keep the warmth from his tone.

“Someone has to make sure you don’t work yourself into the ground.” You placed a cup on his desk, smiling softly. “Figured you could use this.”

Jihoon took the cup, his fingers brushing yours. “Thank you.”

You both stood there for a moment, the silence between them comfortable but charged. Jihoon knew he had to say something—anything—before the moment slipped away.

“So,” he began, clearing his throat.

“Yes?”

He looked at you, really looked at you. The woman who had made his life brighter without even realizing it. “Would you have dinner with me?”

Your eyebrows lifted slightly, surprise flickering in your expression before a smile spread across your lips. “Director Lee, are you asking me out?”

Jihoon chuckled softly. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

Your smile deepened. “I’d love to.”

“Tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night,” you confirmed, your gaze lingering on his.

As you left the room, Jihoon’s heart felt lighter than it had in years.

The next day, Jihoon arrived at his office to find Mingyu and Seungcheol already waiting, clearly eager for gossip.

“So?” Seungcheol asked with a grin. “Did you ask her out?”

Jihoon gave them a small, satisfied smile. “Yes.”

Mingyu clapped his hands together. “Finally!”

“I told you he had it in him,” Seungcheol added, smugly. “Director Lee, taking matters into his own hands.”

Just then, you passed by the office, offering a polite nod to the group. Jihoon’s gaze followed you, softening in a way that didn’t escape the other two.

“Look at him,” Seungcheol whispered. “Completely gone.”

“Head over heels,” Mingyu agreed with a laugh.

Jihoon shook his head, but the small smile on his lips remained. As he watched you disappear down the hall, a rare feeling of contentment settled over him.

For once, Jihoon didn’t mind being teased—not when it was for something, or rather someone, worth it.

The boardroom was filled with the low hum of polite conversation as hospital executives settled into their seats. Jihoon sat at the head of the long table, hands folded, mask of calm professionalism in place. But underneath, his thoughts kept drifting—to you.

You’d brought him coffee this morning with the same smile that had him teetering between frustration and fondness, and now all Jihoon could think about was how he’d asked you to dinner. He knew he should be focusing on the quarterly performance metrics and budget allocations, but that smile…

“Director Lee?”

Jihoon blinked, realizing everyone was waiting for him to start. He cleared his throat. “Let’s begin.”

You, seated at his right side, smoothly distributed the necessary reports, saving him from further awkwardness. You gave him a brief glance—a flicker of warmth and encouragement that grounded him—and he dove into the meeting.

Throughout the presentation, you remained a steady presence at his side, taking notes, handing out key documents just before they were needed, and subtly nudging him if he missed a detail. Jihoon could run an entire hospital on instinct, but with you? Everything ran smoother.

By the end of the two-hour meeting, the board members left satisfied, praising the hospital’s progress. Jihoon let out a quiet breath of relief, leaning back slightly in his chair as the last executive exited.

“You’re welcome,” You teased, sliding your pen behind your ear.

Jihoon tilted his head, lips quirking. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You grinned. “You’d survive. Just barely.”

Back in his office, Jihoon sat hunched over his desk, frantically typing emails. He had no idea how the day had slipped away from him, but it was almost 6 p.m., and there were still administrative tasks demanding his attention.

His phone buzzed—another reminder of tomorrow’s meeting. He cursed under his breath.

As Jihoon scrolled through the endless tasks on his to-do list, you entered quietly, hands behind your back. “Still working?”

Jihoon barely glanced up, fingers still flying over the keyboard. “There’s too much to finish before tomorrow.”

You tilted your head. “Jihoon...”

That got his attention. You didn’t use his name often, but when you did, it made his heart stutter.

“You are the boss,” You reminded gently, a mischievous glint in your eye. “That means you get to decide when the workday ends.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but the soft challenge in your gaze stopped him.

“Let me take care of the rest,” you offered. “It’ll still be here tomorrow. You,” you added with a knowing smile, “have dinner plans, remember?”

Jihoon stared at you for a moment, then exhaled a laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you asked me out,” you teased, your smile making the stress melt from his shoulders.

Jihoon pulled his car to a stop outside a quiet restaurant tucked away from the bustling city centre. It wasn’t the fanciest place, but it had the charm and privacy he hoped would make the night special.

As they stepped inside, Jihoon held the door open for you. You shot him a grateful smile that made his chest ache in the best way.

The evening flowed easily, conversation slipping between light banter and deeper moments. Jihoon found himself laughing more than he had in weeks—something he hadn’t even realized he’d needed.

“You know,” You said between bites of your meal, “you’re not as intimidating as everyone makes you out to be.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “Is that so?”

“Definitely,” You teased. “Underneath that scary exterior, you’re kind of sweet and nerdy.”

Jihoon chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t spread that around. I have a reputation to maintain.”

You leaned in with a playful smile. “Your secret’s safe with me, Director Lee.”

After dinner, Jihoon drove them to a small park tucked away in a quiet part of town. The air was cool, the soft glow of streetlights spilling over the pathways, and the distant chirps of crickets filled the still night. It wasn’t a planned stop, but you had suggested it casually over dessert, and Jihoon couldn’t bring himself to say no.

When they arrived, your eyes lit up at the sight of an old swing set nestled at the back of the park. Without hesitation, you slipped off your heels and walked over, your laugh light as she gave the swing a little push with your hand.

“Come on, Jihoon,” you called over your shoulder, already settling into the seat. “You could use a little fun.”

Jihoon lingered for a moment, watching you with an amused, almost disbelieving smile. It was strange seeing you like this—playful, carefree—so different from the composed and efficient assistant who kept his entire life in order.

And yet, it was impossible to resist you.

He sighed, shoving his hands into his coat pockets as he strolled over to you. “I didn’t exactly dress for playground fun,” he teased, motioning to his slacks and button-down shirt.

You grinned, your hands gripping the chains of the swing. “You’ll live. Now push me.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes with a small chuckle, but he stepped behind you, placing his hands gently on the swing’s chains. As he gave you the first gentle push, your soft laugh filled the air, and he felt his chest loosen in a way it hadn’t in years.

“See?” You said between swings. “You’re already relaxing.”

He gave you another push, this one stronger, and you let out a delighted sound that made his heart flip.

“Careful,” he murmured, leaning close so his voice brushed against your ear. “You might make me forget I’m supposed to be the serious one.”

You turned your head slightly, catching his gaze with a playful smile. “Then maybe it’s time you stopped trying to be the serious one.”

Jihoon paused for a moment, your words lingering in the cool night air. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to do it—maybe it was the way you looked at him, or the strange comfort that settled in his chest whenever you were near—but he leaned forward, catching the swing to still your momentum.

“Jihoon?” you asked softly, your feet brushing the ground as you steadied yourself.

He stepped around to face you, standing between the swing’s chains, the proximity sending sparks along his skin. Your hands rested lightly on the ropes, but your gaze never wavered from his.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “For tonight... for everything.”

You tilted your head, your expression soft and curious. “It’s just dinner, Jihoon.”

He smiled, shaking his head. “It’s not just dinner. It’s—” He broke off, words escaping him.

And then, without thinking, he leaned down and kissed you.

The kiss was soft and unhurried, like a promise spoken without words. You melted into it, your fingers lightly gripping the chains for balance as Jihoon’s hand rested at the small of your back, grounding you.

When you both finally pulled away, Jihoon rested his forehead against yours, his breath still unsteady.

“You make it very hard to be responsible,” he whispered, a rare smile tugging at his lips.

You laughed softly, your thumb brushing lightly over his hand where it rested on the chain. “Good. You could use some irresponsible moments.”

He chuckled, pressing a light kiss to your temple before pulling away reluctantly. “We should get going before you convince me to climb that slide too.”

You laughed, a genuine sound that Jihoon knew he’d carry with him for days.

As you both walked back to his car, side by side, Jihoon realized something: he was no longer just the hospital director with a busy schedule and a million responsibilities. For the first time in a long time, he was simply Jihoon—grateful, grounded, and maybe a little in love.

And that was more than enough.

The Next Day

The sun streamed through the large windows of Jihoon’s office, casting a warm glow across the neatly organized desk. He was reviewing patient files when he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching, followed by the chatter of his friends—Dr. Choi Seungcheol and Dr. Kim Mingyu—entering his office without knocking.

"Well, well, well," Seungcheol said, his voice dripping with mischief. "Look who finally got some action last night!"

Mingyu leaned against the doorframe, a teasing grin on his face. "We need all the details, Jihoon. How was your romantic escapade?"

Jihoon shot them a warning glance, his cheeks warming. "It was just dinner," he muttered, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Just dinner? Come on! You kissed her right?" Seungcheol pressed, taking a seat across from Jihoon. "And I know the way you look at her. You definitely like her."

"Spill the tea, Director!" Mingyu urged, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Before Jihoon could respond, you walked into the office, documents in hand, a cheerful smile lighting up your face. The moment you stepped in, the atmosphere shifted. Seungcheol and Mingyu turned to you with wide eyes, their enthusiasm shifting to a mix of curiosity and mischief.

"Ah! Perfect timing!" Seungcheol exclaimed. "Jihoon was just about to give us the juicy details about your date!"

You raised an eyebrow playfully, your smile turning sly. "I think you guys should keep your noses out of his personal business."

The teasing glint in your eyes, however, told a different story. You winked at Jihoon, and it was as if the world around them disappeared for a moment. Seungcheol and Mingyu erupted into a chorus of playful squeals as they slap each other's arms, delighting in the flirty exchange.

Jihoon groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Get out! Both of you!"

"But Jihoon, we need to know!" Mingyu protested, but he was already backing away toward the door, Seungcheol chuckling as they left.

Once they were gone, Jihoon let out a relieved sigh, looking over at you with a small smile. "Sorry about that."

"Don’t apologize," you replied, your voice softening. "It was kind of fun to catch them off guard."

He nodded, still feeling the warmth from your wink. "Can you do me a favour? I need these documents delivered to Dr. Jeon Wonwoo in the pathology lab."

You took the papers, glancing down at them. "Of course! I’ll head there now."

As you walked down the hall, a smile tugged at your lips, feeling lighter after the teasing. When you arrived at the lab, you scanned the room, looking for Wonwoo. Instead, you spotted your friend, a fellow pathology doctor, known for her bubbly personality and bright laughter.

"Hi!" She called, waving her over. "What are you doing here?"

"I’ve got some documents for Wonwoo," You replied, glancing around to see if he was nearby. "But I’m not sure where he is."

She looked away shyly, whispering. "You know, I think he’s been working in the back recently, I can give these to him!"

You giggled knowingly, shaking your head as you hand the documents over. "You’re adorable. And thank you."

Just then, the door swung open, and Dr. Jeon Wonwoo walked in, his lab coat slightly wrinkled, a focused look on his face. You nudged her with your elbow, and the two of you exchanged glances.

"Speak of the devil," You whispered, straightening up.

The female pathologist coughed nervously, and you both turned their attention to Wonwoo, who approached them with a smile. "Hey. What brings you here?"

"Just dropping off these documents from Jihoon," you said, gesturing towards his colleague. "He wanted to make sure you got them."

"Thanks! I appreciate it." Wonwoo glanced at her, who was watching the exchange shyly. "And how are y-you today, Dr.?"

"I-I’m good.”

You shot her a playful glare while her nerves grew stronger.

Wonwoo chuckled awkwardly, his cheeks slightly flushing. "Well, I uh, we better get to these."

You could just feel the awkward tension, and you knew it was time to make your exit. "I’ll leave you two to get to work. Good luck!"

As you walked back to Jihoon’s office, you couldn’t help but smile. Maybe things were finally looking up for you and her friends after all.

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