Woman lalalalalal wo-would you read this book?
LOL I LOVE PUNS
All of these imagines are original... please do not rewrite it or post on another account without giving cred!
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Dr. Bailey, is there anything I can do? Like maybe help you with the heart transplant," you smile brightly, while you sweetly bat your eyelashes.
"Over my dead body y/n! You dropped a kidney today! Next thing I know you're going to drop the heart. Now shush and wait in the clinic," she snaps. From instinct, I cower back in fear. She's literally the devil in scrubs.
"But-"
"W-wah um no. Go! Shoo! Interns," Dr. Bailey orders. Without another peep leaving either of our mouths, she leaves the clinic.
You take a deep breath and blow a piece of hair off your face. "You're a doctor. You're a doctor. You're a doctor," you internally chant to yourself.
"Bored huh?" A raspy British accent cuts you off from your boredom.
When you turn, your eyes widen in shock. How on Earth could he be so calm when he is standing there with a huge deep slash on his chest?
"Oh my god! Are you ok? What happened?" You gasp, rushing towards the victim- who oddly looks familiar.
Flapping his hand, he assures you, "I'm ok. Relax, a fan just clawed me while I was walking the streets," the man calmingly says as he follows your instruction to slowly lay on the bed.
Looking up at him with a sarcastic smile, you reply with, "Right, and I'm a unicorn," the first thing you think of is that he definitely has some form of THC in his system.
"You don't know who I am do you?" He asks with a slight smirk. You immediately quirk your eyebrow in curiosity.
Pressing against the wound, you roll your eyes, "don't flatter yourself, and stop acting like it doesn't hurt," you order while attempting to stop the bleeding.
"I don't want to cry like a little girl in front of a beautiful girl," he chuckles. After I apply some alcohol to prevent from infection, he winces.
You once again roll your eyes while reaching over to grab the stitch kit, "take your shirt off," you order, and suddenly, your eyes widen at the sudden wrong choice of words.
"Oh I'm sorry Dr, but I don't think we should be having sex while I have an open wound. I could have std, hiv, you name it on this thing," he smirks.
With heated cheeks, you snap, "Just take off the shirt."
"Your wish is my command," he winks as he begins to unbutton his flannel.
"Obviously my wish didn't come true, you're still here," you mutter under your breath.
The man fake gasps, "Ok, I've been hit in the crotch with a shoe, now I've been slashed in the chest, but what you just said hurt the most," he explains and places his hand on his heart.
You try your best to not smile, but obviously it didn't work if else he wouldn't have asked this question, "how about after you stitch this up, I can take take you out for dinner?" he widely smiles while you start sewing up the wound.
After he asked the question, you somehow break out a smile.
"Nope, I'm too busy here at work," you purse your lips as you try to finish up the wound.
"Hmmm, I do recall you complaining that you have nothing to do and it looks like the clinic is pretty barren," he reasons, looking around. He did have a point. The clinic was closing in half an hour anyway.
You giggle then softly push him back onto the bed, "stop moving or I'll puncture some random organ and you'll have to stay longer."
"If it means staying with you longer then so be it," he says, shaking around to see if he can purposely get punctured.
"Cut it out," you scold. With a shy smile, you finally tie to wound shut, "And done!" You exclaim, patting his shoulder.
"Fabulous. So I guess I'll wait here till you leave Dr," he sighs and of course he decides to smugly rest back onto the bed with a sly look on his face.
"Sir-"
"Call me Harry," he cuts you off and your jaw drops.
"He's... he's. Holy hell," your conscience says in realization.