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seungfiles · 1 year

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ch 1. surgeries and ramen and pining, oh my!

the first installment of my seventeen drabble series doctor, doctor.

pairings: ot13 x reader, ??? x reader

genre: fluff, angst, slice of life, medical au

warnings: a teeny tiny bit of explicit language? mentions of invasive brain tumours and hirschsprung disease. ALSO i’ve completely changed up the ages of the seventeen members bc i wanted to… so pls understand that literally nothing about their age is accurate :))

word count: 1.2k

y/n

You sat at your desk, gazing vacantly at your bookshelf, which was crowded with thick textbooks and a number of slightly creepy 3D brain models. Your head was aching from the prior fifteen hours of intense concentration, the Panadol pills you’d dry-swallowed sitting heavily somewhere in your chest.

See, unlike your current self who was slumped blankly in your office, you were something of a legend amongst your fellow medical colleagues. Entering the Harvard medicinal course with a full scholarship, graduating as valedictorian, and excelling at your practical hospital work during your internship and residency, you had recently finished your fellowship at the prestigious Seoul-based Silverwood Medical Hospital as a renowned up-and-coming neurosurgeon.

All that time, effort, and struggle… for more time, effort, and struggle, you thought in almost bitter amusement, a tired smile tugging at your lips. You had just finished an ambitious fifteen-hour surgery to remove a severe invasive brain tumour, which you had agreed to in order to solidify your capability - it had been successful, thankfully, but left you extremely drained. You checked the time - 1 a.m. - and made the decision to sleep overnight at the hospital.

The door burst open suddenly; swiftly removing your shoe-clad feet from your desk, you sat up abruptly, prepared to berate the intruder - likely a fresh-faced intern - for their lack of knocking, only to see a familiar smiling face. You grinned back, placing your feet in their original position, as you greeted one of your oldest, closest friends.

“Well, hello, hello, hello, dear Y/N! Have you died yet?” Kwon Soonyoung inquired.

“Been to hell and back, Soonyoung,” you replied.

“I sympathise. Anyway - I’m assuming you’re sleeping here?”

You nodded in confirmation.

“Brilliant! I’m on a night shift, so we can have dinner together. Instant ramen?”

“Naturally.”

“Oh, wait. Let me check with the others.” Soonyoung pulled out his phone from his pocket, furiously typing. A few moments later, your own phone pinged audibly with a notification from the group chat titled ‘thirteen wannabe doctors + y/n’.

Soonyoung was a paediatrician, 28 years old - the same age as you. You both had graduated from the same college, entered the same hospital to complete your practical work, and were allocated as doctors to Silverwood together. It would be a miracle if you weren’t best friends - which, in fact, you were. It wasn’t just the two of you though - your friend group was obnoxiously large.

Boo Seungkwan and Lee Chan, both also 28 years old, had been with you and Soonyoung every step of the way. They were the demonic cardiologist duo, who thrived best either playing pranks on others, or in complex surgeries to save a patient’s life. …A strange contrast, yes, you agree wholeheartedly. In addition to them, you had Lee Jihoon, president of the tsundere club (but a softie at heart), and Kim Mingyu, the so-called gentle giant and long-time butt of the joke, both being highly skilled nephrologists. Inseparable Wen Junhui, who was typically affectionately called Jun, and Xu Minghao, shortened to Hao, were international students, specialising in ophthalmology, from China, that had joined your medicinal college course halfway through - and just… never left.

The 29-year-olds, being a year above you, were Chwe Hansol, Lee Dokyeom, and Jeon Wonwoo. All three worked in the emergency department, and were arguably the most sleep-deprived of the entire bunch - and that was saying a lot.

Minus those ten, you had met your remaining three friends all at Silverwood, them being residents during your time as an intern. Unfairly gorgeous and extraordinarily witty oncology specialist Yoon Jeonghan, sweet (although at times, questionably so) and mild dermatologist Hong Joshua, and finally, gynaecologist Choi Seungcheol, were all two years older than you, entering their thirties - and you quite enjoyed reminding them of the fact.

“So,” Soonyoung said, breaking your chain of thought. “Mingyu just finished a four hour emergency kidney removal surgery, so he’s staying overnight too, and Wonwoo’s on a night shift for the emergency department. Both of them will be joining us.”

He paused for a short while, and abruptly let out a gasp of mock offence.

“Minghao told me to shut up and stop disturbing his beauty sleep for a measly cup of low quality, high calorie curly noodles.”

You stifled a laugh, as Soonyoung shoved his phone back into his white gown and moved huffily to put some water to boil in the kettle, muttering something under his breath about a certain ‘prissy little ophthalmologist’.

“Oh my god, wait, did I tell you Heejung can finally go to the potty by herself now?!” Soonyoung said excitedly, voice laced with enthusiasm and care. Heejung was a small, extremely lovable and endearing four-year-old who had been born with Hirschsprung Disease, which negatively affected her bowel movement - according to Soonyoung’s almost daily reports, however, she had apparently been showing much improvement.

It really was adorable, you thought, the way the normally goofy and boisterous Soonyoung’s tone of voice changed to a gentle one, only when he spoke of his patients.

For the second time in the span of ten minutes, your office door swung open aggressively. Mingyu and Wonwoo entered, their expressions worn out from exhaustion but smiling all the same.

“Greetings, Mingyu and the 29-year-old - practically almost 30! - beside him!” a smirking Soonyoung exclaimed, as you simply raised a hand and waved.

“Just you wait till next year, Kwon,” Wonwoo replied, rolling his eyes. “You’re not too far away, you know. You’re the oldest out of the 28-year-olds birthday-wise, aren't you?”

“We don’t talk about that,” Soonyoung said sourly. Perking up suddenly, he retorted, smiling evilly, “Better hold back on the threats, Jeon! I have your food in my hands.”

Grumbling in mock defeat, Wonwoo sat down on one of your little couches.

While your two friends were bickering, Mingyu had completely ignored Soonyoung’s comment, and grabbed your hand, dragging you from your desk to sit down more comfortably on a couch. He took hold of a blanket and spread it across your lap, while quietly saying to you, “Congrats - I heard the surgery went well. You should’ve gone home and slept tonight, though.”

“I’m alright,” you said fondly, “and besides, the same goes to you! A complicated four-hour kidney surgery that ended just an hour ago, and you’re taking care of me?”

“That’s different, y/n, I’ve had more experience than you! And plus, a four-hour surgery versus a fifteen-hour one? It’s nothing.”

Sensing tonight was not a night where you could win against Mingyu, you resigned yourself, and allowed him to fuss over you. He finally seated himself down next to you once Soonyoung grandly announced their delectable meal was ready to be served.

The four of you devoured your steaming hot ramen cups in silence, stomachs growling in satisfaction and approval. Only once you had finished did the chatter resume, discussing a wide variety of things from patients to Wonwoo’s batshit crazy ex-girlfriend.

Amidst the lively conversation, you felt a buzz against your thigh. Pulling out your phone, you saw a message notification from Jeonghan.

hannie <3 : i don’t know how your surgery went, but i do know for sure you’ve put all your effort and concentration into it, like you always do. i’m so proud of you, y/n - and no matter the result, don’t beat yourself up about the what-ifs. get some rest tonight and i’ll drop by your office tomorrow morning, bright and early. i can’t wait to see you x

You smiled to yourself, internally melting at the sweet gesture. Jeonghan, while being simultaneously mischievous, was ever so loving, and always seemed to know the right things to say; a quality of his that you were both thankful for and jealous of.

You quickly put together a response:

thanks, han, that means a lot - the surgery went well, and you get some sleep too. see you tomorrow xx

You press send, and re-pocket your phone, unaware of the longing gaze burning into the side of your head.

a/n: bit of a spicy ending, hmm? ;) but anyway, here’s the start to my medical au seventeen drabble series, based very loosely on one of my fave kdramas of all time, hospital playlist! i hope you enjoyed this first chapter, as there will be many more to come! i promise the other members will be prominent in future chapters. thanks for sticking around to read this, and please look forward to my future writing! much love <33

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carpenoctxrn · 1 year

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Doctor. Doctor. (Spencer Reid x FemReader)

Chapter 1: The Invitation

Warning: Very horny reader. Slow burn. Alcohol Shot.

P.S I have Stranger things smut on my Wattpad @noctxrn

~ Y/N P.O.V ~

“Y/N! WAIT UP!” Said my friend Dr. Douglas, a.k.a Lisa Douglas.

Her light blue scrubs were crumbled matching the state that mine was in. At 2:29 in the morning I was finally getting out of work.

“Hey Lisa, what’s up?” I said as I stopped walking and stood behind the trunk of the car. I opened my car trunk using my key and began taking off the top of my scrub to wear the hoodie I had in there. The feeling of scrubs whilst I drove made me feel irritated, so comfortable thermal hoodies were the way to go for me.

“So, Luke wants to do dinner-” she paused as she waited for me to pull the hoodie over my head, “- with his work friends.” She finished as I was pulling my hair out of my hoodie.

“WHAT?” I whispered yelled at her as my eyes became wide and I raised my hand to pull down the trunk of the car.

“Is it getting serious?” I asked as my back leaned on the trunk of the car and I bent down on the ground to pick up my purse at the foot of my leg.

“Maybe? Kinda-” she said confused as she tried to figure out the answer she felt was right.

“Awwww…it's adorable that he wants you to meet his friends,” I said “..in a way in law enforcement the people that they work with become family, sooooo I guess maybe scout out a brother-in-law for me.” I said teasing her.

“You are not helping,” groaned Lisa as she put her hands on top of her face.

“My intention was not to help,” I said as I took my hair out of the professional pony-tail it was in and let it fall down on my back in a weird shape.

“You’re heartless demeanour makes me wonder if you’re a cardiologist so you could feel other’s heartbeat,” Lisa exasperated as she eyed me with a glint of annoyance in her eyes but also pride with her retort.

“Didn’t you say Luke was a profiler? As in he catches serial killers by psychoanalysing them and creating patterns from that?” I asked rhetorically.

“Yes,” she said and I began to grin, “He is not rubbing off on me,” she whined as my mouth resembled that of a Cheshire cat.

“Whatever you say, Dr. Douglas.” I whispered.

“Anyways, I wanted you to come with me. Sort of like moral support.” Lisa asked as she had a pleading puppy face.

“Wouldn’t that be weird?” I asked a very obvious question. A stranger at a party with other strangers would just make everything strange.

“No, not really. You know Phil right?” she asked and I nodded yes in response. “Well I asked him to make you his date for my sake and he said yes.”

“Oh,” I said now feeling weird that Phil is okay with the idea of taking me on a date, “He doesn’t like me like that, right?” I questioned as I felt the back of neck hair standing due to anxiety.

“No he doesn't. He just considers you a good friend and he understood my predicament and decided to be a generous friend,” she said to calm the obvious nerves that had accumulated in my stomach.

“Okay,” I sighed out. “Is there a dress code?” I asked.

“It's a cocktail party at Agent Rossi’s house, so formal cocktail but not too much. They are celebrating bringing down a cult for context,” she said as she began fishing for something in her bag.

“Here,” she said as she handed me a piece of paper that had words written in a hast. “It’s the date, time and address of the huge mansion where this event is being held.”

“So should I be subtly looking for a sugar daddy?” I asked Lisa with a grin on my face as this felt amusing to me.

“No no, Rossi has a more mature taste,” she said in a matter fact voice, “although if you play your cards right you could possibly steal a dance from him.”

“So.. sexy yet modest black dress matched with diamonds,” I thought out loud.

“Yes, very classical and convenient for when you inevitably decide to go to the club and get shitfaced drunk.” Summed up Lisa at my obvious plan.

“Well, I guess I will see you in a day’s time,” I said as I approached Lisa in a hug and patted her back whilst saying “ so forget I exist for the next 18 hours,” with a smile on my face.

“Bye Y/N. See you tomorrow,” waved Lisa as she began walking towards the car that was parked a few feet in the front.

Getting into the driver’s seat of my burgundy 2015 dodge hellcat, I started the engine and felt my body begin to tingle. I was excited to sleep after being awake for 22 hours due to the strenuous nature of my work. My work was a good twenty minutes away from the apartment I lived in.

Deciding to call my father who lived in Sacramento, California, I knew he was just returning home from out of state. I called his cell once, twice, and a third time but I still didn’t get an answer. Unfortunately I rolled my eyes as I knew what was happening. His wife was probably around which meant that he couldn’t talk to me.

Pulling out of the car parking lot I saw that Lisa’s car had already left. For some reason the excitement of falling asleep was filled with despair of being alone. All by myself. I could have called my mother but a brutal fight when I was 18 had severed our relationship. We hardly talked, she hardly acknowledged my existence and I did the same to her.

Taking a deep breath I felt the familiar gurgles of my stomach, signalling that it was hungry. Whenever I got sad or real about my life, I got severely hungry. It was my comfort and it was my coping mechanism.

Pizza!

Stuffed Crust Pizza!

Calzones!

Cheese and BREAD!

The only thoughts that were running in my sad and hungry head. Deciding to look up a 24-hour pizza joint I asked Siri to do just that. But only a pub that was open till 5am was my only option. Deciding on a BBQ chicken flatbread and garlic knots along with their mozzarella + 5 cheese stuffed calzones with chicken and pineapple. The person taking my order said that it would take them 20 minutes and I was already 10 minutes into my drive.

Not wanting to wait in my car for 10 minutes I decided to stop by a McDonalds to grab some ice-cream, one large coke with no ice, and a hot chocolate with caramel. Looking at the time on the screen of the car's dashboard, it read 2:59am which meant that I had another 6-7 minutes give or take.

Still feeling too tired to just sit in my car I decided to throw my hair in a bun that just so happened to be messy. Touching up on my lip with a lip-balm and my cheeks with some blush, I stepped out of my car. Making sure to grab my phone and my car keys.

Walking inside the pub I saw that some people were playing pool, darts, or watching a rerun of some football game. The bartender was a middle-aged blonde woman with tattoo’s. The nametag read that she is the manager and her name is Boyce.

“What can I get for you hun?” She said as she was counting the money a man had just given her.

“I’ll take a scotch” I said “neat, please” I added as I sat down on the bar stool.

“You’re not going to operate heavy machinery right?” She said as she cocked eyebrow up, whilst pouring me the whiskey in a clean glass.

“Not for more than 5 minutes,” I said with the kindest voice and an innocent look gracing my tired face.

“Oh, you live close to here?” She said amused, as she passed me my drink.

“Yea it’s a 15 minute walk here from my apartments,” I said as I threw my head back and downed the burning and horrid liquid.

“Oh fuck” I said my face contorting in distaste as I slammed the glass back down.

“I forgot this wasn’t tequila,” I said my face still contorted from the shock and taste of the malt substance.

“You’re a funny thing, aren’t you?” She said as she stopped her work to take a moment to appreciate my foolishness.

“Only when I’ve had five hours sleep and it was close to 26 hours ago” I said as I slowly coughed, not wanting to seem like a bigger tool.

“I have an order, it might be ready by now,” I said as I stared at the empty glass. Pondering at the idea of food and sleep.

“Sure, flatbread, calzones, and garlic knots?” She asked as she read something from the screen in front of her.

“Yes that’s it, plus the shot of scotch” I reminded Boyce.

“Yea a shot was right,” She said as she began ringing me up.

“$68.98 will be your total, sweetie” she said as she turned around to pick up my food to hand it to me. I handed her an even $80 and said the rest was her tip. She chuckled and said the drink was getting to me and I just smiled and whispered a bye as I headed out.

I felt a small hue of pink forming on my cheeks. A sign for how much impact social interactions have on my introverted, tired, and fairly one-shot of scotch self. My knees and thighs were warm against the bag of food.

In a few seconds I was inside the car, the roar of the engine coming back to life once again. I put the food on the passenger seat beside me and began pulling out of the parking lot to head towards the direction of my apartment that was two traffic lights and one left turn away.

As I was driving towards the gated apartment that I resided in I saw the clock that read 3:15am. Feeling even more tired at the realisation of the long hours that I had just pulled, I pressed the play icon on the cold screen of my very hot car.

Cash Cash on my dick, I like Givenchy

All those fake hoes told me no but now they chasin’ me

Cash Cash on my dick, I like Givenchy

Got this shit on lock like penitentiary,

The dirty lyrics of Bow by Reyn Hartley filled the air inside my car. The subtle rumble from his voice that added bass to my speakers made the song come to life. Even though the lyrics were degrading women and boasting about men, I couldn’t help the way I felt about the song.

Actually that’s a lie.

I love how in my head I personify myself as a woman who transcends into a men’s person so I can relate to this song. Be the purpose of this music. Be the reason for a feeling.

As the song came to an end my apartment came into view. Going into my designated parking spot labelled 7. As I was about to get out of my car I decided to gather my things around the car to limit the amount of time I have to spend outside of my car gathering my needed belongings in the cold.

Let’s see.

One hand will carry the food and the hot chocolate.

The other hand will carry soda and my purse and my keys.

Perfect!

With that thought I began gathering the respective items to it’s the correct hand. I began opening my car doors to exit the frozen tundra my car had become in the three minutes it was parked.

The brisk walk to my apartment door was quiet. That’s what happens at 3:30am in the morning.

Not a soul nor a body.

Just a mind fueled with thoughts conspired by the darkness of the sky and the light showered by the moon.

In this moment nothing was perfect but everything was so serene it felt like a painting.

I was struggling a bit to open my door, but I quickly placed my drink and my food on the floor so I could open the door much more easily.

With a sigh of relief I felt happier knowing my home was open and I quickly basked in the comfort of minimal clothing and delicious food. Grabbing my things from the floor I quickly walked inside my apartment. The familiar smell of vanilla and sex indulged my senses.

Squirt does smell like sex

My thoughts pointed out to me. Living as a single female on the other side of the country had its challenges. Not having the comfort of a home cooked meal was one of the challenges.

The other was love life. Although this depends on your own view. For some people finding people to hangout with is difficult. And it was the same for me until I came to a realisation.

I didn’t want friendship. I am nice, I help people out when they are in a difficult spot, and I am always polite to everyone. I have “friends”.

Friends I didn’t want but had.

What I wanted was skin igniting, drunk on eachother, hardcore sex. I did get hardcore sex from the men in Washington. I just didn’t get that feeling that comes with just needing to have them inside you. Being in the same room as them makes your cheeks turn red and your breath heavy, just as how you would’ve looked when you were cumming on their cock deep inside.

Many of the men that I hook up in the bar tend to be muscular with tattoo and roughhousing type of men. The men who look like the description of a gangster erotica novel.

Growing up I exposed myself to Nikita Gil’s poetry about bad boys. The morally grey character in a perfect world who will ruin the reality for your own sake. I assumed that maybe if the muscle and the tattoo fits, so will the sex.

But it didn't. The sex wasn’t bad, but they couldn’t make my body convulse like I could with my finger on my clit and a vibertor inside my hole.

Deciding to quickly change out of the clothes I am wearing, I headed into my room to grab my black and white chequered pyjama pants along with an oversized navy blue sweatshirt that I thrifted. It had a logo of the local police department's soccer group and I felt it would let any potential kidnappers/ killers/ muggers/ rapists get the idea I have a connection to the local police department.

Turning on the T.V I played the current series I was watching, well more like rewatching. Supernatural.

In this series Castiel had joined the dynamic duo of brothers and was helping them on a case. Walking towards the kitchen that was conveniently in the same space as my living room, I began opening the food and bringing it out to my coffee table. Grabbing my drinks last I sat down on my couch and took a sip of the coke and bit out of the calzone.

It tasted so delicious. The taste of the shredded chicken mixed with the sweetness of the pineapple and the spiciness of the jalapeno was such a treat to my tastebuds. The cheesy texture added more of a chew to the bite.

After eating half the calzone I took some bite of the BBQ flatbread and realised it tasted perfect but my stomach was after the calzone. So I decided to finish my soda, my calzone, and treat myself to some garlic knots and a delicious cup of hot caramel chocolate from McD’s.

Looking at the sleek golden clock hanging on top of the T.V, it read 4:30am. The tiredness washed over my body. Deciding to just sleep on my couch I set an alarm for 2pm, and began to doze off to the sounds coming from my screen. I grabbed the chunky crochet blanket off the ledge of my couch and draped it over my sleeping body.

Chapter 2

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