R4CH

Despite her name, Joy wasn't exactly the most enthusiastic person around. Certainly not when compared to you, a fellow med student who was practically brimming with cheer and delight. Every request made of you was happily met with a simple "okie dokie" before you complied, whereas she'd drag her feet just to get patient charting done.

To say that the two of you couldn't be more different was the understatement of the year, which is why everyone you worked with was surprised to find out that the two of you were dating. At first, that is. Until they saw how you interacted with each other, and then it all started to make sense.

The way that people first learned about your relationship was one day at work when you caught something wrong with a patient that all other doctors had missed, effectively saving their life.

"Good work," Robby praised with a warm smile, one of his large hands gently clapping you on the back to show just how proud he was.

"Nice one, babe," Joy added in her typical deadpan, though this time her tone was notably a tad bit lighter than any other compliment given by the nonchalant student doctor.

You beamed with pride at her words, a wide grin spreading across your face while Ogilvie's jaw dropped at the revelation. "'Babe'? Wait, so does that mean-"

"Yup. We're dating," she confirmed while moving to rest a hand on your shoulder as a casual kind of confirmation, your head turning so you could watch her with a loving gaze as you continued to smile.

"I just don't get it," he kept on with a confused look, clearly intent on poking the bear today. "You're so… And they are so…"

"And that's what we love in each other," your girlfriend cut in before he could even think to finish his statement, visibly unimpressed with whatever line of thought was currently going through his mind. "And it's really not for you to understand."

Robby then cleared his throat and directed the three of you to move on to other patients so the conversation wouldn't evolve into something even more tense than it already was. You remained unbothered by the strange look being giving to you by Ogilvie, walking with Joy's hand still placed protectively on your shoulder.

The news spread fast around the ED about a ball of sunshine such as yourself apparently dating a grump like her, but neither of you cared very much, and it didn't take very long for others to see why. You were clearly both very in love with each other, especially if lunch was any indication of that.

Joy sat at one of the small tables in the breakroom, unzipping her lunchbox and pulling everything out. She popped off the lid to a plastic container to reveal a sandwich cut into the shape of a heart, setting the lid down next to her favorite snack and a note that had several hearts doodled on it.

Cassie, who was in there to grab a drink, raised an eyebrow at the sight in front of her. "Lemme guess, your partner put this together for you?"

"Every day," Joy sighed as if it was some big nuisance, but the third-year resident didn't miss the way her lips quirked upwards slightly whenever she glanced back over at the note.

You came bounding into the room a few minutes later, looking as bright and cheery as ever. "Hey, Dr. McKay!" You greeted with a friendly wave before turning your attention over to your girlfriend. "Do you wanna go sit on the roof and watch the clouds while we eat lunch?"

"Seriously? You really want to cloudgaze, of all things?" She questioned bluntly with a raised eyebrow, though you remained undeterred by her outward disinterest.

"Yeah! It's not too sunny out today, so we won't have to worry about hurting our eyes! Plus-" you lowered your voice conspiratorially and leaned in "-if we're in a spot that's harder to find, we might get more time before we have to get back to work."

At the mention of getting out of work, Joy immediately perked up. "I'm in," she stated while standing, already starting to re-pack her lunch so she could take it up with you to the roof.

"Great!" You clapped a bit with excitement before frowning slightly, your brow furrowing to show you were deep in thought for once. "But wait, did I bring my lunch today?"

She then reached over on the table behind her lunchbox and held up another one that had to be yours given all the bright colors on it that contrasted heavily with her simple black one. "I brought it, because I knew that you'd forget."

"Great! I'll meet you up there," came your delighted response as you grabbed the lunchbox from her and turned to leave. "I love you!"

"I know," was her rebuttal to your words, smirking at the way you instantly whipped back around to face her again.

"Say it back!" You demanded with a slight pout, hands resting on your hips as you lightly glared at her.

"I suppose I share similar feelings of fondness towards you," she replied while still smirking, appearing amused at the way you playfully rolled your eyes before actually leaving that time.

Cassie just watched the whole encounter take place with a smile of her own. The whole thing was really quite sweet, she had to admit, and it was obvious just how much you cared for one another.

About an hour or so later, Victoria was sent up to the roof to fetch the two of you so you could finally come back down to the ER and work again. Once she arrived there, she scanned the area until finally she spotted you sitting together, staring up at the clouds as they passed by overhead.

"I see a duckling!" You exclaimed while pointing upwards before returning your hand to its spot next to the other one by Joy's head as you sat behind her. The claw clip that she'd previously been wearing had been removed, and you were flipflopping between braiding her hair and letting it fall loose again before combing your fingers through the dark strands and restarting the process.

"Literally how," was all she said in respond, sipping on an energy drink as she followed where your finger had pointed. Her legs were spread out in front of her while you were perched cross-legged, your chest pressed against her back as you leaned forward and rested your chin on her shoulder.

"Uh…" Victoria felt pretty awkward to be breaking up such a sweet and obviously private moment, but Dana had been pretty insistent on getting the two of you to come back down so more patients could be dealt with. "Sorry to interrupt, but there's a bunch of caseloads still coming in downstairs, so…"

"Okie dokie! We'll be there in a minute," you chirped without hesitation as Joy grumbled incoherent swears under her breath at having to get back to work. "C'mon, my sweet little marshmallow. Duty calls."

"I've told you before, you're the sweet marshmallow here. I'm the burnt one that you get from leaving it over the firepit for too long," she corrected while standing, both of you collecting your lunchboxes to take back to the breakroom until it was time for you to leave.

"You're burnt on the outside but gooey in the center," you added, shrieking gleefully in surprise when your words were met with a light poke to the ribs by your girlfriend.

Victoria could still vaguely hear your conversation as she began to make her way back to the ER, trying her best not to gush over how adorable the two of you were. Hopefully she could snag a moment or two away so she could spill to her TikTok following about all the juicy details.

It was later that evening after work when you made an interesting discovery upon searching for a book that you'd leant to Joy a while back. You didn't find it, but you did find an old medical journal that'd had a rectangle cut out of the center of its pages. You figured she probably read the whole thing, then decided to find a better use for it since she wouldn't ever need to re-read it due to having a photographic memory.

But that wasn't nearly as unexpected as what you found inside the cut-out crevice. In it held every single note you'd ever packed with her lunch, each one neatly tucked away and place in chronological order, from most recent to the very first one you'd ever written, and your note from that day was on the very top.

"What in the hell?" She questioned in a dry tone from behind you, causing you to turn to face her. "I knew you were nosy, but Jesus."

"You kept all my notes," you cooed out affectionately, which caused her to scoff and cross her arms defensively over her chest. "How sweet of you!"

"Don't read too much into it. I just- kept them so I could study that messy scrawl of yours, so I'd know what you scribble down in a patient's file," she halfheartedly grumbled, both of you well aware that she was lying.

You just set the book hiding your lunch notes off to the side and stood, approaching her with a warm smile and a big hug that she reluctantly accepted. "Aw, you're just a big softie underneath it all, aren't you?"

Even with such a blank expression, it was obvious the answer to that was yes. Joy might've been generally uncaring and unfazed by everyone else, but you had wormed your way into her heart, and now she couldn't bear the thought of living without you. After all, every grump needed a sun to shine over them.

End notes: she might be one of my new favorite people to write for tbh

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Joy loved getting filled up with all sorts of toys: strap-ons, dildos, you name it. She wasn't too picky, and she also didn't care which hole it was. So long as she was thoroughly prepped, she could take it in either (or sometimes, in both at the same time, if she was feeling up for it).

Of course, you were more than happy to oblige. Anytime she'd come to you with a fake cock that was bigger than the last, you knew exactly what she wanted. You also knew to clear your schedule for the rest of the day, because she intended on milking herself dry until there was nothing more to give.

"Fuuuuuccckkkk-" she swore as you carefully nudged the tip of the massive strap-on into her cunt, which was eagerly awaiting a cock to soak with its arousal.

Thank God you'd lubed up everything up and prepped her properly beforehand, because otherwise you'd have no idea how it would all fit. Naturally, though, that's exactly the way she liked it.

"You doin' okay?" You murmured gently, the hand of yours that was resting on her bare hip giving it an affectionate squeeze to let her know you were there if she needed you.

"God, yes. But I'd be doing much better if you'd stick it in me the entire way already," she huffed with a dramatic eye roll, just about pouting at the notion of having to wait for what she wanted. Her hips lifted up slightly, as though she were trying to move herself closer to you in an effort of getting the thick strap deeper inside her.

"Alright, alright, I got it. I get the message."

Slowly, you continued to push in further, making sure to pay attention to her noises and body language to ensure that she wasn't hurt any by it. The only thing indicated by them was just how much she was enjoying herself, given the way that her back arched as she groaned out in pleasure.

Once you were finally in all the way, you stopped and simply stared down at her stomach. You were used to seeing slight bulges there before, but this was by far the biggest you'd ever seen.

Joy must've noticed it, too, because she let out a short laugh of amusement while looking down at her stomach, bringing up a hand to feel the area. "Heh, it's the biggest one we've used so far."

She then dropped her hand down and placed her head on the pillows as a way to get comfortable, smirking as she turned her attention back to you. "Go on. I can handle it."

Nodding, you obliged by starting to thrust in and out of her, now watching her simply to view the beautiful sight of her enjoying herself. Her mouth parted with each new moan that left her lips as her eyes shut in ecstasy, hips bucking up to meet yours with each and every movement you made.

"Fuck, yes- goddamn it, yes, right there, right fucking there-"

You gradually picked up the pace little by little until you were practically slamming into her while she became louder than ever before, still demanding that you fuck her deeper and harder and rougher with absolutely no hesitation.

By that point you were quite certain that your neighbors must've hated you, but hey, it's not your fault the apartments had such thin walls.

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Joy liked to set firm boundaries in her life for a lot of things, her work schedule being a big one. Naturally, these boundaries of hers extended into being some of yours, too, when you started dating. If the hospital wanted to call you in for an unexpected shift, they'd have to go through her first, and she couldn't be worn done nearly as easily as you could.

Another thing she was firm about? Getting enough sleep. And since it was harder for her to doze off without you there ever since you first stayed the night over at her place, it meant you were expected to join her in bed no later than an hour after she laid down.

No exceptions were made if you'd brought home paperwork with you to get done, by the way. In fact, it only made her more insistent that you actually relax and forget about your job for once. Of course, this was easier said than done.

"You look dead on your feet," Joy stated bluntly, not pulling any punches as she stood in front of where you sat on her living room couch, files upon files spread out across her coffee table. "When's the last time you got any sleep?"

You purposely took longer than necessary to respond, knowing she wouldn't like the answer. "Um…"

Rolling her eyes, she let out a light scoff at your obvious reluctance in answering her question. "Okay, that was way too long of a pause. Off to bed you go."

"Yeah, yeah, in a minute," you muttered out absentmindedly, having already turned your attention back to the patient file you were holding.

That caused her to cross her arms over her chest in clear displeasure, the mild scowl on her face worsening as she glared at you. It's not that she was needy, but she certainly didn't appreciate being ignored for something as trivial as work. "Babe. Come to bed."

Her tone was sharper than before, and much more serious that time around, but you still couldn't help pushing it further. "Just a second-"

"No." Joy cut in before you could finish, raising her voice slightly to be heard over your preoccupied thoughts. "Now, or you're sleeping on the couch."

That certainly got your attention. "Alright, alright. I'm coming," you finally relented with a sigh, starting to pack up your case files while she meanwhile returned to the bedroom with a smug expression on her face, well aware that she'd won.

In all honesty, she was really doing you a favor with being so insistent on you getting the proper amount of sleep. Even when it was frustrating, she always made it up to you the next morning by bringing you a cup of coffee that she'd prepared just the way you liked it.

That morning was certainly no exception. You could smell the coffee before you opened your eyes or even woke up properly, the delicious scent wafting through the air in a steady approach as she entered the room with a mug in each hand.

"Good morning," she greeted in that usual flat voice of hers, watching you yawn and stretch as you forced yourself to sit up; only then did she hand you coffee made in your favorite mug. "Sleep well?"

You grumbled something under your breath that sounded vaguely like a resigned "yes". Despite being grateful for her forcing you to go to bed at a halfway decent time, you wouldn't give her the satisfaction of admitting it so openly. Not that you needed to, because she was already aware.

"Don't worry, there's no need to thank me," she mused casually in between generous sips of her own coffee. "I already know how awesome I am."

"You're lucky I find your cockiness attractive," you muttered into your cup, watching her with a sleepy yet unimpressed gaze. "Otherwise it'd be too early for me to deal with your attitude."

"Haha," she dryly retorted, relatively unfazed by your grouchy demeanor. To be fair, she was only so chipper this early because of the double espresso shots she slipped into her cup. "It's okay to admit I was right, y'know. There's no shame in acknowledging that your girlfriend is smarter than you."

"I thought you be smarter than me was already a well-known fact?" You sarcastically questioned with a raised eyebrow, taking another sip of your coffee. The liquid caffeine was doing its job at alerting your senses to wake up, causing you to be not nearly as grumpy as you were a few minutes ago.

"It's nice to hear you know your place," she smoothly quipped back, the corners of her lips curling upwards into a smile that made her appear similar to a pleased cat.

To some people, her big ego would be a nuisance, but to you it was instead something to be observed fondly. Because of this, it made it that much harder to stay mad at her and the scheduled bedtimes she always put into place.

Besides, they weren't all bad. You couldn't deny just how nice it felt to be cuddled up close to her in bed at night, and the way you enjoyed getting to drink coffee with her nearly every morning. And if you had to get that by following her strict routines, then so be it.

End notes: she doesn't have a thoroughly planned out daily routine imo but the things she does plan she expects to be kept and done on time

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everything has been slower.

but the patient had made it through the procedure without complications, and that counts as a win on a day like this.

you pull the surgical cap from your hair and tuck it into the bin beside the sink. a nurse walks past the open OR doors carrying a thick paper chart, muttering under her breath about how nobody remembers where half the supply forms are kept anymore. now it has to be tracked down by hand.

the entire hospital feels stretched thin. you’re halfway through loosening the ties of your surgical gown when the wall phone starts ringing.

it’s sharp in the quiet hallway. persistent.

you reach for it after the second ring, still drying your hands with a paper towel.

“dr. y/n y/l/n.”

the voice on the other end is instantly recognizable, even through the background noise of the emergency department, dana. behind her you can hear the er in full motion—voices overlapping, a stretcher rattling across the floor, someone calling out a medication order that has to be written down because no one can enter it electronically right now.

dana sounds like she’s been dealing with chaos for hours.

“hey, doc,” she says, her tone tired but threaded with that familiar dry humor. “you busy upstairs being a hero or can i steal you for a minute?”

you lean lightly against the counter beside the phone. “just finished a case. what’s going on?”

there’s a pause. not long—just enough to make something in your chest tighten slightly. then dana exhales.

“you might wanna come down here and check on your fiancée.”

your posture straightens immediately.

“what happened?”

“well,” dana begins, “she was out in the waiting room trying to track down a patient that got misplaced during all this cyberattack chaos. so she went looking herself.”

you can picture it perfectly. samira weaving through the packed waiting area, determined to fix a problem that technically wasn’t even hers to solve.

dana continues.

“she made it about halfway across the room before she got pale, started sweating through her scrubs like she ran a freaking marathon, and nearly passed out.”

your grip tightens slightly around the phone.

“we got to her before she actually hit the floor,” dana says. “but it was close one, doc.”

in the background you hear a voice you know far too well.

“i told you i’m fine.”

samira sounds irritated more than anything, though there’s a thin edge of exhaustion in her voice that you don’t miss. dana clearly turns her head away from the phone.

“kid, you almost collapsed in front of thirty people.”

“i was dizzy.”

“you were prone on the floor five seconds later, mo.”

a beat passes before dana comes back to the receiver.

“she’s tachycardic—heart rate sitting around one-twenty. blood pressure dipped earlier but it’s coming back up now. completely diaphoretic when we got her on the gurney.” dana sighs. “honestly? she looks like someone who hasn’t slept in days.”

which, you know, is probably not far from the truth.

the er has been slammed since the cyberattack hit. systems failing means delays everywhere, and delays mean waiting rooms overflowing with patients who should have been processed hours ago. samira had volunteered to stay late more than once this week already.

dana lowers her voice slightly.

“my guess is stress, anxiety, dehydration, and the fact that she’s been running on fumes trying to keep this place together tonight. but given that she’s…” she pauses briefly, “…you know. yours.”

you glance down at the ring still sitting on your own hand, barely two weeks old.

“…i figured you’d want to take a look yourself.”

you’re already moving toward the elevators.

“i’m coming down.”

there’s a rustle of movement, like someone attempting to sit up.

dana sighs into the phone again.

“please hurry, doc,” she says. “because if she tries to get up one more time, i might have to remind her that being engaged to a cardiovascular surgeon does not make her medically invincible... hey—back down on the bed, mohan. this isn't a zoo for crying out loud.”

you hang the phone back onto the wall before dana can even finish the sentence. the phone clicks sharply into place, the sound echoing a little in the quiet surgical hallway. for a moment you stand there, staring at the beige plastic like it might ring again with better news.

you let out a slow breath through your nose.

of course it’s samira.

of course she’d been out in the waiting room trying to hunt down a patient herself in the middle of a hospital-wide systems failure. the er had been drowning all day since the cyberattack took everything offline. without the electronic boards tracking patients, rooms, labs—half the department has been operating on guesswork and handwritten notes. it’s exactly the kind of chaos that makes someone like samira push harder instead of stepping back.

you run a hand over your face, already moving.

the surgical corridor feels strangely calm compared to what you know is happening downstairs. every surface seems buried under paper—orders, medication logs, patient labels—evidence of how quickly modern medicine falls back on old habits when the technology disappears.

normally you’d stop, check in, make sure everything from the surgery was wrapped up properly.

not tonight.

you push through the double doors at the end of the hall and head straight for the elevators. your steps are quick but controlled, the familiar urgency of a physician responding to a call settling over you. still, something tight sits in your chest that has nothing to do with a patient.

your brain automatically starts building the differential as you walk—vasovagal episode, dehydration, hypoglycemia, exhaustion compounded by stress. none of them are immediately life-threatening, but the image dana described keeps replaying anyway.

you reach the elevator and hit the call button harder than necessary.

the metal doors remain closed for what feels like an unreasonable amount of time. when they finally slide open, you step inside immediately and press the button for the emergency department level.

the doors glide shut again.

for the first time since the phone rang, you’re standing still.

you lean back slightly against the wall of the elevator, crossing your arms as you exhale slowly. the hum of the machinery fills the small space as the elevator begins descending through the floors of the hospital.

two weeks ago you slid a ring onto samira’s finger.

two weeks ago she smiled at you like the world had finally slowed down for a moment.

and now she’s downstairs in the er trying to convince evans she’s perfectly fine after nearly passing out in a waiting room full of patients.

you shake your head quietly to yourself. some things never change.

the elevator dings softly as it reaches the emergency department level. the doors slide open to reveal exactly what you expected.

chaos.

voices overlap across the department, nurses moving quickly between stations cluttered with paper charts. someone is calling out lab values from across the room while another staff member scribbles them onto a patient sheet. a stretcher rolls past you almost immediately, guided by two residents trying to navigate the crowded hallway.

halfway across the department, a tall figure passes beside you heading the opposite direction.

dr. robby.

he’s walking with purpose, eyes fixed straight ahead like he’s already mentally three patients ahead of wherever he’s physically going. for a moment he doesn’t register you at all, just another doctor moving through the crowded floor.

then he slows.

he takes a second glance over his shoulder, brows pulling together slightly in confusion.

“doctor y/l/n…”

you don’t stop walking.

robby turns a little more, following the direction of your gaze across the er toward the row of occupied beds where dana has set up shop for the night. for a brief moment his expression stays puzzled, like he’s trying to figure out what could possibly bring a cardiovascular surgeon rushing into the middle of a cyberattack disaster in the emergency department.

then his eyes land on the gurney across the room. recognition hits immediately.

“ah.”

his shoulders drop slightly in understanding as he looks back toward you.

“not looking too good in there.”

across the er you can just make out the scene dana described.

samira is sitting partially upright on a gurney, hair slightly disheveled, skin still faintly flushed from the episode. a blood pressure cuff is wrapped around her arm and an IV line hangs from the pole beside the bed. dana stands next to her with her arms folded, clearly mid-lecture about something samira is pretending not to listen to.

even from across the room you can see the stubborn set of her posture.

you barely slow your pace.

robby lets out a quiet breath beside you, shaking his head with the faintest hint of amusement.

“er docs,” he mutters. “worst patients in the hospital.”

then he steps aside, letting you continue toward the gurney where dana is still trying to keep your fiancée from walking back into the chaos.

you cross the last stretch of the er quickly, weaving between a nurse pushing a medication cart and a resident trying to decipher handwriting on a lab slip. the closer you get, the clearer the scene becomes.

samira is sitting halfway upright on the gurney, hospital blanket pooled around her waist like she resents even needing it. her hair is slightly messy, the dark, curly strands escaping whatever quick tie she’d thrown it into earlier in the shift. a blood pressure cuff is wrapped around her arm, the tubing draped across the side rail, and an IV line hangs loosely from the pole beside the bed.

dana stands next to her with the posture of someone who has already had this argument several times.

samira notices you the second you step into her peripheral vision.

“don’t start,” she says immediately, before you’ve even reached the bed.

you don’t respond.

you come to the side of the gurney and glance at the monitor like you would with any other patient—calm, methodical, controlled. heart rate still elevated. blood pressure stabilizing but not great. oxygen saturation fine. your hand rests lightly against the side rail while your eyes move across the numbers, taking everything in with the practiced efficiency of someone who has done this thousands of times.

samira shifts slightly, clearly irritated.

“i’m fine,” she insists.

you don’t acknowledge it.

instead, you reach for the chart clipped at the foot of the bed, flipping through the handwritten vitals dana’s team recorded earlier. the paper rustles softly as you scan it, your expression staying neutral, professional.

samira exhales sharply.

“y/n—”

you gently lift her wrist before she can finish the sentence, checking her pulse yourself out of habit. it’s still faster than you’d like. warm skin. slightly clammy.

she pulls her hand back.

“this is unnecessary.”

you finally speak, though your tone stays clinical.

“have you started one-liter of normal saline bolus?”

you glance up from the chart toward dana, completely ignoring the increasingly frustrated woman sitting on the bed beside you.

dana lifts a brow slightly, clearly amused by the strategy.

“just started it,” she says, nodding toward the IV line. “running wide open.”

samira looks between the two of you in disbelief.

“i can hear you.”

you adjust the IV tubing slightly, making sure the line isn’t kinked before checking the monitor again. her heart rate ticks down a few beats but still sits higher than baseline.

samira leans forward a little.

“seriously, this is ridiculous.”

you continue like she hasn’t spoken at all, flipping another page in the chart, “glucose?”

dana taps the pen against her clipboard. “ninety-two.”

samira throws her hands up, “oh my god.”

“blood pressure dipped to ninety over fifty when she nearly kissed the waiting room floor,” she adds. “came back up once we got her flat.”

samira groans.

“you’re all acting like i coded.”

you finally look up at her.

your expression is calm, but your eyes move carefully across her face—checking color, pupil response, the faint sheen of sweat still clinging to her temples. up close you can see the exhaustion she’s been trying to hide all week.

samira notices the look.

“i got dizzy,” she says defensively. “that’s it.”

dana snorts quietly beside you.

samira opens her mouth to argue again, but dana simply gestures toward you with the end of her pen.

“nu-uh. tell her,” dana says dryly. “she seems very interested in your vital signs.”

samira scoffs under her breath and sinks back against the thin hospital pillow, arms crossing over her chest in a way that would almost be intimidating if she didn’t still look pale and slightly damp with sweat.

you set the chart back at the foot of the bed and glance once more at the monitor. her heart rate has ticked down a few beats but it’s still elevated, the green numbers blinking steadily across the screen. the saline bag above her head is already draining steadily through the IV line dana’s team placed.

only then do you finally look directly at her.

up close the exhaustion is even more obvious. there are faint shadows under her eyes, the kind that come from too many overnight shifts stacked back to back. a few strands of hair cling to the side of her temple where the earlier sweat hasn’t completely dried yet.

she holds your gaze stubbornly.

“i'm fine.”

you rest one hand lightly against the rail of the gurney, posture relaxed but grounded in the quiet authority that comes naturally to you in a hospital setting.

“your heart rate is still over a hundred,” you say evenly. “you’re clammy, and according to dana you nearly fainted in a waiting room full of patients.”

samira rolls her eyes slightly.

“i didn’t faint.”

dana immediately cuts in from the other side of the bed.

“you were about three seconds away, kid.”

samira points a finger weakly in dana’s direction. “you are exaggerating.”

“you were horizontal,” dana replies flatly with her thick accent.

samira groans softly and drags a hand down her face.

you reach for the stethoscope draped around your neck and place the diaphragm gently against her chest, listening carefully while she continues muttering under her breath about everyone being dramatic.

the familiar rhythm of her heartbeat comes through the earpieces—fast, but regular. no irregularities. no concerning murmurs. just a body that has been pushed too far and is finally demanding a pause.

you straighten again, slipping the stethoscope from your ears.

samira watches you carefully now, the irritation still there but softened slightly by the fact that you’re standing right in front of her.

“you didn’t have to come down here,” she says.

you ignore that.

instead you reach up and adjust the saline line slightly, making sure it’s flowing properly before letting your hand fall back to the bed rail.

“yes,” you say calmly, “i did.”

samira studies your face for a moment, like she’s trying to decide whether to argue again.

her eyes flick briefly to the ring on your hand.

two weeks.

only two weeks since the two of you had gotten engaged, and already she’s nearly collapsing in the middle of the er during a hospital crisis.

she exhales slowly.

“it was just dizziness,” she mutters. dana pushes herself away from the counter with a quiet clap of her hands.

“well,” she says, clearly satisfied to hand the situation off now that you’re here, “i’m going to go deal with the rest of the department before the waiting room riots.”

she points the pen briefly between the two of you.

“you,” she says to samira, “stay on the gurney.”

then she looks at you.

“and you… good luck.”

with that, dana disappears back into the chaos of the emergency department, leaving the two of you beside the bed while the ER continues roaring around you.

samira watches her go before looking back up at you.

“you’re all being ridiculous,” she says quietly.

her heart rate drops another two beats.

you pick up the clipboard from the end of the bed, scanning the handwritten notes again out of habit. the pen clipped to it rattles slightly when you tap the edge of the board with your ring—once, twice, three times—an absent gesture while you think. the faint metallic sound is barely noticeable under the hum of the monitor.

samira watches you do it.

her expression has shifted from irritated to something closer to resigned, like she already knows exactly where this conversation is heading.

you sigh softly and set the clipboard back down before turning toward the glass door of the bay. the hallway outside is still moving at full speed—staff cutting through between beds, dana arguing with a resident over something, a patient being wheeled past toward imaging.

you reach down and remove the door stopper wedged against the frame, letting the glass door swing shut with a quiet click. the noise of the er dulls slightly behind it.

then you step back to the curtain rail and pull the thin divider closed around the bed, giving the two of you a little more privacy from the rest of the department.

when you turn back around, samira is still sitting on the gurney, arms loosely crossed, watching you carefully. you grab one of the rolling chairs nearby and pull it beside the bed, the wheels squeaking softly against the tile before you sit down.

for a moment you don’t say anything. your forearms rest on your knees as you glance once more at the monitor above her shoulder. her heart rate has come down a little more now, the saline slowly doing its job.

then you look back at her.

“i’ve already told you, mira,” you say quietly, your voice calmer than the worry sitting behind it. “you can’t be overworking yourself like this.”

samira exhales through her nose, leaning her head back against the pillow. a few strands of hair fall loose near her face and she pushes them away tiredly.

“it’s the er,” she mutters. “we’re always overworked.”

you shake your head slightly.

“there’s a difference between busy and collapsing in the waiting room.”

she tilts her head just enough to look at you again.

“i didn’t collapse.”

“you almost did.”

her eyes narrow faintly at that, but there isn’t much fight behind it now. the exhaustion dana mentioned earlier is still written all over her face, and even samira knows it.

outside the curtain someone rushes past, their footsteps fading quickly down the hallway.

samira studies you for a second before speaking again, her voice quieter this time, “It was just dizziness.”

your gaze drops briefly to the IV line running into her arm, then back to her face.

“you’re tachycardic, dehydrated, and running on what—three hours of sleep in the last two days?”

she doesn’t answer that, instead she looks down at your hand resting on the edge of the bed.

at the ring. your ring.

her shoulders soften slightly.

“i was trying to find a patient,” she says after a moment. “she'd been waiting for hours and nobody knew where she was in the system.”

you nod once, because that part doesn’t surprise you at all. of course she was. you lean back slightly in the chair, your tone still steady but firm.

“mira,” you say, “the department falling apart because of a cyberattack does not mean you run yourself into the ground trying to hold it together.”

the monitor continues its quiet rhythm beside her.

you shift forward slightly in the chair.

with one hand you reach up and manually pull the side railing of the gurney down, the metal clicking softly as it lowers. samira watches you the whole time, her earlier stubbornness worn down by the exhaustion settling over her shoulders.

your hand finds hers a second later.

her fingers are still a little cool when you wrap your hand around them, thumb brushing gently across the back of her knuckles before settling over the ring she’s required to wear on a chain or band during er shifts. the gold catches faintly under the lights as you trace over it with your thumb.

samira’s gaze drops to your hands for a moment, then lifts back to your face.

“i love you,” you begin quietly.

your voice is softer now than it’s been since you walked into the er. the clinical tone you’d been using earlier fades away, replaced by something much more personal.

she meets your eyes—dark brown, tired, but still steady.

“i just want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself,” you continue, your thumb still moving slowly over the ring. “especially during days like these.”

you tilt your head slightly toward the hallway outside the curtain, where the chaos of the cyberattack is still unfolding across the hospital.

“and there’s entire flights of medical floors separating us.”

the words hang in the air for a moment.

samira studies your face carefully, the stubborn edge she’d been carrying earlier softening into something quieter. the fight has mostly drained out of her now that the adrenaline from the episode has faded and the fluids are starting to help.

her fingers curl a little tighter around yours.

“you came down here fast,” she says after a second, her voice quieter than before. a small corner of your mouth lifts, “you nearly fainted in my hospital.”

she exhales a faint, tired laugh through her nose.

“our hospital.”

you don’t argue that. instead, your thumb brushes over her ring again, a familiar motion that seems to calm both of you more than either of you expected. samira looks at your joined hands for a second longer before lifting her gaze back to you.

“i wasn’t trying to scare you,” she says softly.

outside the curtain, someone rushes past the bay again. the er keeps moving. inside the small space between you, though, things feel still for a moment.

“i know,” you whisper softly.

the words come out quieter than you intended, almost lost under the soft hum of the monitor beside her bed. you bring her hand up just enough to press a gentle kiss against her knuckles, your lips lingering for a moment over the ring resting against her finger.

“i know you can take care of yourself,” you murmur. “i know you can.”

samira watches you while you do it, her expression shifting in that subtle way you’ve learned to recognize over the years. the stubbornness is still there somewhere—it always is with her—but right now it’s softened by the exhaustion settling into her bones.

your thumb drifts over the band again as you lower her hand back onto the mattress between you, still holding it. up close you can see the faint sheen of sweat that hasn’t completely faded from her skin yet.

samira exhales slowly.

“you say that,” she mutters, voice quieter now, “but you still came down here like someone called a code.”

you lift your eyes to hers.

“well,” you say gently, “they did call me.”

that pulls the smallest smile from her. she shifts slightly on the bed, the thin hospital blanket rustling as she settles back against the pillow. her other hand moves absentmindedly to the IV line in her arm, touching the tape securing it before letting it rest again.

“you left surgery for this?” she asks.

you shake your head, "just finished.”

samira studies you for a moment, her dark eyes tracing over your face like she’s checking for something liek stress, frustration, the quiet worry she knows you try to hide behind your calm.

instead she only finds you sitting there, still holding her hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

her shoulders sink a little deeper into the pillow, “you didn’t have to close the curtain,” she says after a second, glancing briefly toward the divider surrounding the bed.

you glance at it too, then back at her, “yes, i did.”

a faint smirk touches her mouth, “cardiovascular surgeons are very dramatic.”

“you almost fainted.”

“i got dizzy.”

“you nearly hit the floor.” to which samira groans to.

you huff a quiet laugh at that, shaking your head slightly. your thumb brushes over the ring again without you even realizing you’re doing it.

outside the curtain, the er continues roaring along—voices rising and falling, a stretcher rolling past, someone calling out for a chart that’s been misplaced in the sea of paper.

samira watches you for a moment longer before speaking again, her voice softer now.

“i really am okay.”

you don’t pull your hand away, "i know."

the rolling chair creaks softly as you push yourself up to stand. for a moment you linger beside the bed, watching her the same way you would watch any patient you were about to leave—taking in the color returning slowly to her face, the steady rhythm of the monitor, the saline bag now halfway empty above her shoulder.

except she isn’t just any patient.

samira looks up at you from the pillow, following the movement as you stand.

you lean over the bed and press a soft kiss against the top of her head, your hand briefly brushing through the loose strands of her hair. it’s a quiet, instinctive gesture—something grounding for both of you in the middle of a department that feels like it’s barely holding itself together tonight.

when you pull back, she’s watching you with that tired, familiar look that always appears when the adrenaline fades.

you give her a small smile.

“i’ll be upstairs,” you tell her. your voice slips easily back into that calm, steady tone she’s heard you use with countless patients before.

“you call or text me if you need anything.”

her eyes narrow slightly like she’s considering arguing again, but she stays quiet. you gesture lightly toward the IV line running into her arm, “stay here until the IV’s done,” you add, “and get some sugar in your system.”

samira exhales through her nose, somewhere between amused and defeated, “yes, doctor.”

there’s a hint of teasing in the way she says it.

you raise an eyebrow slightly, but the corner of your mouth twitches with the start of a smile.

outside the curtain someone rushes past the bay again, the er continuing its relentless pace under the strain of the cyberattack. somewhere down the hall dana’s voice carries over the noise, directing a resident toward the waiting room.

samira glances toward the sound automatically before looking back at you.

“i’m not going anywhere,” she says.

you study her for another second—making sure she means it.

then you nod once.

“good.”

you step back toward the curtain, pausing briefly before pushing it aside and letting the noise of the emergency department spill back in around you.

You pull into the pickup lane outside the ER entrance and kill the engine. The hospital lights are harsh even from here, and you can see a few people smoking and loitering by the side entrance. You check your phone, still no update. 

It's been closer to twenty, but you don't mind. You know how her shifts go.

You spot her the second she pushes through the ER doors. Samira's still in her scrubs, her hair messier than when she left this morning, and she's rubbing the back of her neck the way she always does after a long shift. She doesn't see you at first. She's looking down at her phone, probably checking if you texted.

You lean against your car and wait. The parking lot is mostly empty now. A few other hospital staff are trickling out, swapping their badges for jackets. The air smells like rain from earlier, but it's stopped now.

Finally she looks up. Her face changes when she sees you, her smile melting the exhaustion to her face. She was beautiful, you couldn't help but stare at her as she walked up to you. 

"You didn't have to come," she says when she's close enough. Same thing she says almost every time you pick her up. "I told you I could take the bus."

"I know," you say. "I wanted to."

She stops in front of you and tilts her head. "Long day?"

You hum, "Maybe, but I’d say it was longer for you."

She huffs a small laugh but there was no real humour in it. She's standing close now. Close enough that you can see the small lines around her eyes, the way her bottom lip is a little chapped from twelve hours of not drinking enough water. The baby hair that’s falling out of her ponytail in pieces.

You reach up before you think about it.

Your hand goes to the side of her face, fingers brushing the loose hairs back from her temple. Her skin is warm. You cup her cheek gently, your thumb running once over her cheekbone, then again, slower.

She closes her eyes for a second. "You're staring again," she says quietly, eyes still shut.

"And? I can’t help it."

She opens her eyes, probably takes in the stupid smile on your face and laughs softly. “You sap.”

Huffing a small laugh of your own, you lean in. She meets you halfway.

The kiss is soft. No rush. Her lips are warm against yours, and you feel her exhale through her nose, a slow release of tension. You keep your hand on her face, thumb still moving gently along her jaw. She reaches up and rests her fingers on your wrist, keeping you there.

When you pull back, you don't go far. Your forehead touches hers for a moment. You can feel her breath on your chin.

"Hi," she whispers.

"Hi."

She pulls back just enough to look at you. "So," she says. "Are you going to keep standing here or are we going to your car?"

Right. The flowers.

“Opp, yeah one sec. I got a little distracted.” You step back and turn toward the passenger window. She watches you, curious. You reach inside and pull out the bouquet you'd been hiding. It's wrapped in green florist paper, you'd asked the guy at the shop to keep it simple. Eleven stems of white lilies, some still closed, a few already open wide. The smell hits both of you at once, sweet and a little spicy.

Samira blinks. She looks at the flowers, then at you, then back at the flowers. For a second she doesn't say anything.

"What's this?" she asks.

"Flowers."

"I can see that." She takes them from your hands carefully, like she's not sure she's allowed to hold them. "But why?"

You shrug. "Do I need a reason?"

"You've never gotten me flowers before."

“Woooooow,” you drawl, a teasing smirk slowly spreading, “way to make me sound like a shit partner.”

She stares at the bouquet for a long moment. You watch her turn it slightly, looking at the lilies from different angles. Her thumb brushes one of the petals.

"These are nice," she says quietly. Then she looks up at you with a small smirk. "Lilies, though? You know cats can get sick from these, right?"

"I don't have a cat."

"I have a cat."

You freeze. "Fuck. You do?"

"No." She laughs. "I'm messing with you. I don't have a cat."

"You're annoying."

"I like to keep you on your toes." She tucks the bouquet under her arm and starts walking toward the passenger side. "Come on. Take me home. I'm starving."

You get in the driver's seat and start the car. She buckles in, still holding the flowers in her lap. The paper crinkles every time she moves.

"So," she says as you pull out of the parking lot, "what made you do it?"

"Do what?"

"The flowers. You've never done flowers before."

You keep your eyes on the road. It's a ten-minute drive to her place, mostly through side streets. "I passed that shop on my way to work this morning and I just thought. I don't know. You've had a rough week. You had that patient die on Tuesday, and you came home and didn't talk for two hours. And yesterday you said you felt like no one noticed how hard you were working."

Samira is quiet for a second. "I didn't mean it like that."

"You said 'I don't think anyone even sees what I do in there.' Same thing."

She shifts in her seat. The lilies rustle. "Okay, fine. But that was one off handed comment. You don't have to buy me flowers every time I complain."

"Meh. Maybe I’m just using it to treat my girl." You glance over at her. She's looking out the window, but you can see her mouth is pressed together in that way, which means she's trying not to smile too much. "Do you like them?"

She turns back to you. "Yeah," she says. Her voice is softer now. "I like them. I've never gotten lilies before. My mom always had roses in the house."

"Are roses better?" You panic slightly, maybe you should have got the roses. 

"Roses are fine. Lilies are," She looks down at the bouquet again. "Different. In a good way."

You stop at a red light. The street is empty except for a guy walking his dog on the other side. You watch Samira lift the bouquet to her nose and inhale. She closes her eyes for a second.

"They smell strong," she says.

"That's good, right?"

"It's fine. It's just going to make my whole flat smell like a funeral home."

"You're impossible."

She grins. "Love you."

The light turns green. You drive the rest of the way in comfortable silence. She reaches over at one point and rests her hand on your leg and leaves it there for the rest of the ride.

When you pull up outside her building, she doesn't get out right away. She sits there with the flowers in her lap, looking at the front door like she's deciding something.

"You want to come up?" she asks. "I could make pasta."

"I love to! But I can't. I have to open tomorrow morning."

"Right." She nods, a little reluctant. "Okay. Rain check."

"Yeah. Definitely."

There’s a brief pause, soft and unhurried. Then she leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. It was warm, lingering just a second longer than expected.

"Text me when you get home," she murmurs, close enough that you can still feel her breath.

"I will."

She pulls back with a small smile, then opens the door and steps out, holding the bouquet against her chest with both hands. You watch her walk up the short path to the entrance. She has to fish her keys out of her pocket while not dropping the flowers, which takes a couple of tries. You think about getting out to help her, but she manages.

At the door, she turns around. The streetlight is behind her, so you can't see her face super clearly, but you can see her lift the bouquet slightly, like a little wave. After you wave back, she pushes the door open and disappears inside. You hear the door click shut.

You sit there for another minute, maybe more. The car still smells like lilies. You start the engine and pull away slowly. Halfway down the block, your phone buzzes. You don’t check it until you get home. 

After reading the messages, you smile to yourself and get ready for bed.

The next time you meet her, it's outside a coffee shop near the hospital. She's getting a coffee before her shift starts. You hand her eleven stems of orange daisies wrapped in brown paper. "These are bold." she says.

You shrug and say “They made me smile, I hoped they would do the same to you.” 

Samira giggles softly, brushing her finger over one of the petals. "They won't have a vase to live in while I'm at work."

"They can last a few hours in your locker."

"Hm. True." She glances at the counter. Her coffee is ready. She picks it up, then tucks the bouquet into the crook of her arm. "Walk with me?"

"Of course."

You step out of the coffee shop together. The morning air is cool, still a little damp from last night. She sips her coffee as you walk. The hospital is only a few minutes away. You can see the ER entrance up ahead, the automatic doors sliding open and closed as people go in and out.

"Thanks for this," she says, nodding at the flowers. "You didn't have to come all the way out here."

"I was in the area."

"You work twenty minutes in the opposite direction."

You don't answer. You just smile at her and flutter your eyes.

She shakes her head, but she's smiling too.

You reach the entrance. A few people are standing by the doors, finishing cigarettes or idly chatting. One of them, a woman with blonde hair spots the flowers and grins at Samira.

"Morning, Dr. Mohan," the woman says. "Nice flowers."

"Thanks, Dana." Samira doesn't explain. She just turns to you.

For a second, neither of you says anything. Then she leans in and kisses you quickly. Just a peck. But her free hand squeezes your arm before she pulls away.

"Text me later," she says.

"I will. I hope work goes well."

She turns and pushes through the doors. The woman watches her go, then looks at you with a knowing smile. You nod at her smiling bashfully, then turn and walk back toward your car parked at the cafe.

Another evening, you drop them off at her door at 9 PM. She's just out of the shower, hair wet, wearing a bathrobe. Eleven stems of white freesias. "You're going to make my whole flat smell like perfume." she says. 

"Ah, that bad thing? Should I stop?" 

"No." She sniffs them. "It’s nice. Come in." 

You stay for an hour. You watch her put them in a vase on the kitchen counter. The previous flowers are still on the table by the window, starting to brown now. She throws them out without you saying anything.

The next time you give her flowers it was raining, you meet her at the bus stop because she actually took the bus that time. You're holding an umbrella over both of you and a bouquet of eleven pink peonies. "You're going to run out of flowers," she says. 

You shrug and say, "There's a lot of flowers in the world."

"Then you're going to run out of money." she quickly replies.

"I can budget." you reply.

She laughs and tucks the peonies under her jacket to keep them dry. You walk her the rest of the way home.

Then, on date night, the two of you end up at the Italian place she loves, your usual drinks already ordered and waiting by the time you settle in.

She sits across from you, hair down for once, falling softly over her shoulders instead of being tied back the way you’re used to. The change is small, but it does something to you, makes her look more gentle, somehow. Less like the composed, always-moving version of her you usually see, and more like someone you get to keep all to yourself for a little while.

She’s wearing a nice top, it was nothing overly fancy, but it fits her in a way that makes it hard not to stare. The soft lighting of the restaurant catches on her skin, on the curve of her cheek, the line of her collarbone. You find yourself noticing details you don’t always let yourself linger on. The way she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, the way her lips curve when she catches you looking. She looks softer outside of her scrubs. Not less beautiful. Never that. 

And it hits you, suddenly just how beautiful she is.

You sigh softly and think, “I’m so very lucky.”

Tonight, though, she's quieter than usual. It looks like she was turning something over in her head. She keeps glancing at you, then looking away, then glancing back. Like she wants to ask something but isn't sure how.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing,” she picks up her wineglass, “can’t I admire my beautiful girlfriend?” 

“You can.” You preen slightly, “But it looks like it's killing you to ask a question. What is it?”

She takes a sip from the wine, then sets it down and leans forward on the table “How do you know?”

You furrow your brows in confusion and ask "Know what?" 

"When to bring the flowers." She tilts her head, studying you. "You've never once asked me if they've died. You've never come over and checked the vase. But you show up with a new bouquet the day after they go limp. Every single time."

You take a sip of your drink, humming playfully you reply “And give away my secret?”

"I'm serious." She's not annoyed, but she's genuinely curious. Perplexed, even. "It doesn't make sense. The lilies, the daisies, the peonies, all of them. You always show up right when they start to brown. I honestly thought you put a camera in my flat or something."

You blink in alarm “Oh darling I would never do that.”

"I know." She rolls her eyes, but fondly. "Obviously. So how?" 

You set your drink down. Look at her for a second. The candlelight is flickering, and she's leaning in so close that you can see the tiny freckles across her nose that only come out in summer. You want to kiss her. But first, you want to see her face when she hears this.

You reach into your jacket pocket and pull out your phone. Scroll for a moment, then turn the screen toward her.

It's a photo. Simple. A small glass vase on a table in your kitchen. Inside the vase is one single flower. A purple lisianthus, a little droopy at the stem. Not dead, but close.

She stares at the photo. Then at you. Then back to the photo.

"I buy twelve," you say. "Not eleven." 

“What?” She blinks in confusion. "But you give me eleven." 

You nod and say. “Yes, and I keep the twelfth. I put it in a vase on my kitchen table. When it starts to go limp, I know yours are probably the same. So I buy you more."

She doesn't say anything for a long moment. Just looks at the photo. Then looks at you. Then looks back at the photo. "You've been doing that this whole time," she says. Not a question.

“Yeah." 

"For how long?" 

"Since the first bouquet. The lilies. I kept one. It lasted a week and a half. Then I bought the daisies."

She leans back in her chair. Crosses her arms. But she's not upset. She's processing. "So every time you've given me flowers," she says slowly, "there's been one more sitting in your kitchen. Just waiting to die so you know when to come over." 

"That's one way to put it." 

She stares at you for another five seconds. Then she shakes her head and laughs. "You fucking sap," she says.

"Only for you, baby."

She reaches across the table and grabs your hand. Holds it tight. Her thumb rubs over your knuckles, back and forth.

"That's the stupidest, sweetest, most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," she says.

Samira glances up whilst typing, trying to finish up her charts before she lags behind. The day is still early and there seems to be a brief lull in activity, so it’s not too much of a hassle — yet. The midday rush can topple that in a second.

Samira gives Victoria a noncommittal shrug, a delicate crescent of a smile rising to her mouth. “I don’t exactly hide it.”

“But you also never told anyone!” Victoria guffaws, her voice comically rising in pitch.

Dana strolls by at that very moment, a clipboard on her hip. “Told anyone what?”

Victoria swivels around to face the nosy charge nurse, grinning like a conniving child. 

“Dr. Mohan is married. Did you know that?”

Dana hums, brows lifting in subdued curiosity. She leans over Samira’s shoulder. “Huh. No ring, huh? What’s up with that? Can’t stand the guy or somethin’?”

Samira huffs out a laugh, submitting her charts and crossing her arms. “I love my spouse very much, thank you. We just didn’t do rings. I’m afraid of losing it on the job.” The doctor narrows her eyes in amusement, glancing back at Victoria. “What gave me away, anyway?”

Victoria seems to remember herself, shyly fiddling with one of the strings on her hoodie. She talks fast, over-explaining as she tends to do when her nerves kick in. 

“Oh! Well, they were just admitted and I saw the same last name on the board so I was gonna ask you about it but you were busy with another patient and I didn’t want to keep them waiting so I treated them—”

Samira doesn’t let her finish. The moment she realizes you’re somewhere in the emergency room, she brushes past Victoria, searching the ER until her eyes finally land on you: comfortably propped up in a bed, scrolling through your phone. There’s an ice pack around your noticeably swollen ankle; your socks and shoes are neatly tucked beside the bed next to your bag.

Samira’s questions come all at once, startling you enough that you nearly drop your phone on your stomach. 

“What happened? Are you okay? Why didn’t you call me?”

You blink twice, setting your phone in your lap. “Good to see you, too,” you reply, nearly laughing at the sight of her distress. Her concern is far greater than it needs to be. “I came to bring your lunch. You forgot it. Again. It’s in my bag.” 

Samira huffs, crossing her arms and approaching your bedside with a stern expression. “I don’t care about my lunch. I do care to know what you’re doing at my hospital.”

You actually do laugh this time. “I’m at your hospital because I tripped on the way out of the apartment. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t break anything. Figured I’d get it checked out since I was making the stop, anyway. And I know you don’t check your phone during work, so don’t even start.” With a head tilt, you put on your most sorrowful expression. “Why? Aren’t you happy to see me?”

Samira pouts, trying to glare at you, but it’s weak. Your wife sits at the edge of the bed, putting her hand over yours.

“Not under these conditions, no. I never want to see you in here, chellam.”

“Ouch,” you frown, feigning hurt. “I’m already in pain. No need to make it worse.”

Samira manages a small smile, finally easing up to kiss your forehead.

“Dramatic. Did they already give you an X-ray?” 

You shake your head, turning your hand over to intertwine your fingers with hers. “Not yet. Dr. Javadi said she’s putting in the order now.” 

Your wife purses her lips, the vaguest hint of annoyance overcoming her at the memory of her brief talk with Victoria. She delayed putting in the order to ask about Samira’s marriage? She left you in pain for some gossip? The thought will only vex her the longer she thinks about it.

“Good. We’ll get you out as soon as we can,” she sighs. “Be warned: it’s gonna get crazy in here soon. There’s no telling how long it’ll take.”

“Sounds perfect,” you muse, gazing at her fondly. “I finally get to watch you work.”

Samira’s cheeks burn when your free hand reaches over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She’s already a little frazzled from running around the emergency room; your touch makes her whole body shiver. 

You notice and chuckle, leaning in to brush your lips against hers. Samira tries to pull away, a bashful smile hidden as she turns her head. 

“I’m working,” she reminds you, sounding adorably whiny.

“It’s a kiss. You act like I’m trying to pin you down in public,” you mutter, guiding her chin until she’s looking you in the eyes again. You close the distance, and this time, she doesn’t stray from the path. Samira kisses you, slow enough to give the illusion that she has all the time in the world.

But you know she’s busy and frustratingly hardworking, so you’re the one to break apart this time. You lightly pinch her cheek — she always gives you the sweetest smile when you do so — and you set her free.

“Don’t forget your lunch again or I might actually die on the stupid stairs next time,” you playfully warn her.

Samira groans, rolling her eyes as she reaches down to retrieve the Tupperware container from your bag on the floor. 

“Don’t even start. I’m already going to feel guilty later when I have the time to process this little visit of yours.”

“Don’t you start. I’m just kidding,” you frown, taking her hand and kissing the knuckles. “It’s all my fault for being such a good partner that didn’t want their wife to starve.”

Your wife rolls her eyes and regretfully leaves you with a short “goodbye” and a look of longing.

When Samira is far enough away, Victoria finds her again, beaming like she won the lottery. “You guys are so cute.”

Samira has to agree.

fancy some more?

✴︎ samira mohan

sfw:

samira has a digicam that she likes to bring around for every occasion. she takes pictures of you, when you least expect it. sitting by the sea, laying under the sun, swimming in the water, at dinner sipping your drink. it took a long time to convince her and pry it away from her hands to take pictures of her.

samira is the type to want to try every tourist attraction all the while trying to avoid getting scammed. which is, pretty hard you see, so she does her search before the trip to try out exciting stuff. not just the food and the popular cites. and she's so professional at the research with the restaurants as well, almost always the places are filled with locals and minimal tourists.

samira who loves fruit and just wants to try every single local one because she believes "only summer fruits are worth it"

nsfw:

samira’s digicam also comes to good use in bed… she snaps a picture when you're utterly spent, in bed, laying in a pool of sweat. or short videos of you kissing her, under her, touching her. samira absolutely cherishes them afterwards and during the whole of your visit.

sloppy and slow morning kisses with grumpy holiday samira who claims she can't wake up before 10am during vacation (though her body doesn't allow her that luxury due to working at the e.r.) and you tell her she can go back to sleep, you just want to kiss her. just languid kisses that turn into samira's restless hands all over your body and the both of you fully naked and awake. samira making you come three times before midday and leaving the bed for a shower to which you join her

✴︎ dana evans

sfw:

always always taking pictures of you with that old lady camera angle she has because you look so pretty,, "twirl in that skirt for me princess" "god, you look so pretty like this" "wait i need to get a picture of you here as well baby"

dana is one of those people who would totally go to like all-inclusive resorts with the spa treatments and turkish baths etc. she would not be leaving without using her massage package to the last brim

dana probably wouldn't want to leave the hotel much, booking the all-inclusive for a reason,, because she's on her feet all the time and she wants a place she can just relax with her pretty girlfriend with a pool nearby, tasteful meals and a bar just under your feet. if you leave it's because you want to see some place nearby and she just can't say no to you.

nsfw:

i already said she looves taking pictures of you, that persists in bed as well. angling her phone, trying to get the right shot while you just pose for her in the way she likes, "just a bit to the right sweet girl, spread those legs mmhhhmm." "almost there princess, look at how wet you are oh my god"

another, very innocent, reason why dana doesn't want to leave the hotel for long is because this way she can have you whenever she wants to,, unlike at home, and even the prospect of just being able to go up to your room whenever and have sex is enough to drive her dizzy. so occasionally, she will lean into your ear and whisper, "go upstairs and wait for me sweetheart, and if you touch yourself i'll know." and she waves you off on your way with a small slap at your back

✴︎ baran al-hashimi

sfw:

baran who still goes on her morning runs even during vacation only to come back all sweaty and sexy at 7:30 in the morning. and she makes sure not to wake you up, claiming you need the rest on vacation but she just can't help herself and has to kiss you when you're lying so peacefully still when she arrives back.

she finds restaurants and takes you to try local foods you've never even heard of,, engages with the servers and learns what's in every dish she enjoys. tries to get the recipe so she can make it for you later at home. it's just so precious :((

baran is also just so friendly with the locals it's unnerving. she has an ear for language as it is and she will be befriending lots of local shop owners and getting you discounts, learning each of their names and giving her promises to visit again.

nsfw:

in the shower, on the bed, out on the balcony, after her morning run, sweaty, panting, splayed out, on the sheets, all fours, with the strap, head between legs, in the bathtub, out at the club, late at night, early in the morning, quickie before lunch, long, and passionate after lunch, whenever, wherever this woman will take! advantage! of! that! vacation!

you leave your panties by her nightstand because you wanted to have sex and she's going to be using that against you.. baran stealing your panties under your dress in some pub you're at, keeping them in her bra. or her making you leave without any on so she can tease you under the table of the hotel's bar. tearing a few apart, "i'll buy you new ones princess", sniffing them before stuffing them into her pockets, eating you out over them on the hotel bed. she is just to teasing until you're begging for her to just let you come

✴︎ parker ellis

sfw:

i know the bouncer will get bored of seeing parker and you come in every night once you find a place you both enjoy. in my head she knows where to find good clubs everywhere and is an expert at finding out their best signature cocktails

parker is the type to book those luxurious yacht trips with a few friends and just have the whole sea (and you) just to herself for a few days. like i bet she even has a licence to drive the damn thing. and the whole few days would just go by with delicious food, amazing cocktails and very good sex down at the suit in general.

also i think zoos? like those huge zoos that put humans in cages to see the animals and parker would totally love to spend time in the nature,, that includes visiting the city floral parks and just having a cute little nature day

nsfw:

one thing parker also loves about clubs is how she gets to have you in the bathroom stalls. your back to the restroom door, parker's hand working with intent between your thighs, one leg hooked behind her back as she makes you come at least once before leaving

and the follow-up at the hotel is even more delicious.. "you liked how i did that, huh baby? how anybody could hear you any moment, could just come right in when you were at my mercy?" and she would get so worked up over it as well,, putting her words to good use, making you ride her face because it makes her super horny. you going down on her and she almost immediately comes the moment your mouth is on her due to all the foreplay she got.

✴︎ trinity santos

sfw:

i know the breakfast buffet hates to see trinity coming by. she would totally get huge servings of everything she likes, and even more from the dessert aisle. when you ask why she simply says, her mouth still partially full from pancakes, “i never get to have proper breakfast in pittsburgh anyway. plus didn't we pay for it? this is my lunch as well."

she makes an extremely long and comprehensive car ride playlist that's probably longer than the entire trip but it doesn't matter as long as there isn't a minute without good music in the car.

trinity takes small silly videos of you everywhere, out on the street, sleeping at the hotel, looking at a statue, swimming at the beach and she makes a small collage video of them back at home. you keep asking her why she's not taking pictures instead the first time you're on vacation and she just says it's a secret. not giving it away until she sends you a google drive link a week after you're back home

nsfw:

trinity who gets insatiable once she gets very slightly drunk and just gets super bratty to leave the bar and go back to the hotel,, trinity who can't keep her hands off of you once in the room and makes sure you're louder than back home because she can't get a noise complaint here. "common baby let me hear you. worst case scenario we'll get blacklisted from here." and you stay true to her words, moaning her name till your throat is sore from it

movie night back at the hotel but trinity doesn't even want to watch the movie, she wants to make you feel good. small, innocent touches under your shirt and tiny pecks at your neck turning into bites and straddling your lap. when you tell her "you're so annoying" in that breathy voice she responds with the usual sass, "yeah i'm sure i am," her hand slipping under you underwear, "is that why you're so wet or?" you have to shush her with a kiss

✴︎ victoria javadi

sfw:

victoria makes like those small trip photo albums from everywhere she goes so there will be a lot of photographing involved. both you, herself, the stuff you eat, places you visit, cute little bug she spots, etc.

she is always updated on the latest trends and just loves recreating those stuff w you. "common baby, just this once i swear we can go eat at that place you liked the other day. for me, please?" and how can you deny those huge doe eyes?

victoria who brings a huge suitcase filled with different clothes for every hour of the day for a 3 day long vacation. and you can't even complain because she looks so pretty in all of them.. she is also very big on trading jewelry during vacation (or just in general)

nsfw:

you take one spicy photo of yourself with her phone saying "i'll stick this at the cover of that album" and she's done for. everytime she opens her gallery during the vacation she's thinking of it. "we should take more of those." she tells you one night and you're quick to follow up. taking selfies of yourself laying between her breasts, looking up with your chin to her chest. or one where you're biting into her skin, just below her neck. a very short video after you propped the phone by the nightstand of you sucking her nipples and victoria stopping it cus she's too shy.

victoria who innocently calls you over to the room saying she needs help zipping up her dress when you're downstairs getting reservations for the night,, but in reality she's trying on some new lingerie she got for this and wants you to see it. so when she opens the door, in the matching bra and underwear you're already drooling.. she gives you a small show first, making you sit down on the bed and walking down the small way up to you. straddling your lap and kissing you senseless.

✴︎ emma nolan

sfw:

emma would bring like 5 different books for a week long holiday and literally finish one in a day, leading both of you to search for a bookstore and something for her to just read while sunbathing. she just loves spending time at the beach and just read!!

talk about historical sight-seeing and my girl is there!! from popular tourist attractions to niche antique theaters not even the romans heard of,, she loves to do research beforehand and to just talk your ear off the whole ride there. one time she even tried to correct a tour guide and you had to get between her and the poor lady

picnic date on those huge city parks with emma!! you tell her it's fine, you're on vacation and you should just gt some pizza and sit down somewhere you find fit. but she just buys all the snacks neither of you have seen before, different fizzy drinks and even a cute picnic blanket :((

nsfw:

emma who gets super shy when you're dancing at a club or a pub or wherever,, and she gets insanely horny when you make her dance very close, her back to your chest and when your hands graze her skirt she's just begging to get back to the hotel. emma who almost comes with your thigh between her legs in the elevator because she's so worked up

she loves spending time back at the hotel as well. like just laying in bed together and emma who is just so good with her tongue,, going down on you because she just can, here, now. and she spends almost hours between your legs, you spread out on the sheets. she tells you to read one of her books, or pretend you are at least because it makes her even more turned on when she can suck on your clit while you're acting like you're ignoring her.. and this goes on for a long time, her edging you, just with her tongue, usually slow, easy movements until you can't take it for longer. pulling her up and paying her back just the way she likes

✴︎ mel king

sfw:

i think mel doesn't really like the seaside much, not enjoying the sand nor the sun. she would definitely go for the mountains and natural sight-seeing rather than the beach trip.

and mel just loves loves loves the nature so much!! she knows the name of every single butterfly or the weird bugs you spot along the way. she almost gets too excited when you spot a baby deer on your hike one morning and scare it off. thankfully, she is able to take a picture of it before the animal hops away on it's way.

if you're staying at a bungalow or a mountain hotel she found that you're sure came straight from the shining, mel would totally tell horror stories about people who got lost in the woods etc.

nsfw:

the good part about the horror stories though is the comfort she offers afterwards. she makes sure to add a few unnecessary details that makes you cling onto her even further and she just comforts you with kisses and soft touches that turn into something way less appropriate along the way. "shhh, it's okay babe. nothing's out to get you, you know." as she is literally buried deep inside.

other than that she doesn't scare you off. like when she does, there always is some ulterior motive there. but she would totally love to have you without the scary stories. very very sweet kisses as the rain platters out the window. completely using the prospect of being up in a mountain to her advantage, making you shout and moan as loud as you want. her breath would get raspy and all breathy in the morning due to all that action.

i truly am milking my (now over) vacation with this one. the people had decided for nsfw but i also wanted sfw so here it is, enjoy :p

@azishimi @bl00df1redeath @saffrontieee @poseidon12345 @melschemmentitties @ccandlehead @postflash

Sitting down across from Sarah, you greet your friends and try to act like there's not a vibrator nestled deep inside you, vibrating and sucking on your clit on the lowest setting. You all get into a conversation about bar hopping after trivia, and after a minute or two, the vibrator turns off. The feeling has your clit twitching harshly, and you have to grip the edge of the table to keep yourself from groaning out. Subtly, you squeeze your thighs together and push your hips forward, humping the vibrator.

Nikki gets to see you act all subtle as she walks back with the drinks, and a smug grin forms on her face. She sets the drinks on the table and leans over your chair to give you a cheek kiss.

"Already desperate?" she whispers into your ear.

Nikki sits beside you, and she pushes the glass toward you.

"Shots for good luck?" she says to the group, holding up her glass.

Ian picks his up and raises it, and the others grab their own glass. "You're gonna need it. I own you all at trivia."

You roll your eyes and take your shot glass, failing to notice how Nikki's other hand is underneath the table. On the count of three, you all take the shot, and just as your lips touch the glass, the vibrator turns back on. It causes you to choke on your drink, spitting some of it out.

"I know you can't handle your liquor, but Jesus," Nikki teases.

You playfully glare at her, but the glare quickly turns into a pathetic-looking face as Nikki bumps the speed up. Your brows furrow, and your eyes soften. The way you struggle to hide your emotions makes Nikki's stomach flutter. She feels so giddy, and not just because of the alcohol hitting her system.

She leaves the vibrator on as the others chat with each other, and she joins the conversation, talking animatedly to Sarah about her college applications. She just ignores you while you squirm next to her. She pays no mind to your tiny coughs that hide your moans. She actually has the audacity to kick your foot away when you try to get her attention.

It becomes hard to converse with all of them while the vibrator sucks on your clit. You start stuttering, forgetting your sentence halfway through talking because of the pulses against your puffy, wet clit.

And no one questions how red and sweaty you are. It's easy to assume you're just drunk. Occasionally, you'll get weird looks, but that's it.

Nikki toys with the speed and different modes on the vibrator throughout trivia, and all you can do is stare blankly at the sheet in front of you, not even bothering to try anymore. After a louder-than-expected moan slips out, Sarah asks if you're okay. You turn to look at Nikki, and she gives you the fakest pout ever while bringing her hand up to your arm, rubbing it up and down.

"You do look a little red," Nikki feels your forehead. "Why don't we take a bathroom break?"

She stands up and urges you to do the same. She looks to Ian before taking your hand and leading you to the restrooms. "Don't you dare fuck with my answer sheet. I will kill you."

Once in the bathroom, Nikki checks the stalls.

"Please, Nikki," you beg, hands shaking as the vibrator continues to make you leak. Your underwear is soaked through. "Turn it off or do something. I can't handle any more."

Nikki kisses your lips softly and digs through her pocket for the remote. She turns it off, and you let out a ragged breath as your clit throbs painfully. You regret asking her to turn it off. It's almost worse with it off. You're throbbing and clenching around nothing.

"Poor baby," Nikki coos, petting the side of your face. "Let me see the mess you've made so far."

She hooks her fingers underneath the waistband of your pants and pulls them down. Her eyes light up, and a shudder runs through her body when she spots the soaked mess between your thighs. Strings of arousal cling to them. Your underwear is just covered in slick.

Nikki runs her fingers over the bulge of the vibrator, biting her lip as you pant and push your hips into her hand.

"Need your fingers," you say, voice hoarse and whiny.

You hold your breath in anticipation as Nikki slides your underwear down, nails digging into the sides of your thighs as the cold air hits your soaked crotch.

Nikki starts salivating. "Oh, God. You're literally leaking."

She messes with the vibrator, slowly pulling it out of you and then pushing it back in. The filthy, sloppy wet sounds it makes have her head spinning.

Nikki pulls the vibrator out all the way, and she groans at the long string of arousal that clings to the tip. She subconsciously licks her lips as she ogles the arousal bubbling on the vibrator.

You feel so lightheaded with horniness. Your knees nearly buckle when Nikki parts your folds to inspect you. She lets you hump her hand for a bit before she pulls away.

You feel confused and disappointed when she sinks the vibrator back inside of you, moaning and clutching onto the sides of her arms as she pushes it deep. "What? No, please, Nikki. I need you so bad."

Nikki shushes you, bending down to pull your pants and underwear back up. "Later. I wanna play around with you first. If you get through trivia without cumming, I promise I'll take care of you."

She smiles at you and kisses your quivering lips gently, grabbing your hand and leading you out of the bathroom.