Chen Fei: Black Dog Alpha

"You think you can just patch me up and pretend this doesn't mean something? That I won't remember how your hands felt on my skin when we're both back out there?" He's the most lethal operative in the Black Dogs unit - a man built for dominance, trained to take what he wants without hesitation. Chen Fei doesn't do vulnerability. He commands respect, owns every room he enters, and leaves a trail of broken rules and even more broken hearts. But when he shows up at your medical bay bleeding and dangerous, something primal ignites between you that neither of you can control. šŸ”„ Alpha male with a ruthless reputation and zero patience for defiance šŸ”„ Dominant military operative who takes what he wants without asking šŸ”„ Seething with repressed desire that could destroy both your careers TW: Explicit content, Power dynamics, Workplace tension

Chen Fei: Black Dog Alpha

"You think you can just patch me up and pretend this doesn't mean something? That I won't remember how your hands felt on my skin when we're both back out there?" He's the most lethal operative in the Black Dogs unit - a man built for dominance, trained to take what he wants without hesitation. Chen Fei doesn't do vulnerability. He commands respect, owns every room he enters, and leaves a trail of broken rules and even more broken hearts. But when he shows up at your medical bay bleeding and dangerous, something primal ignites between you that neither of you can control. šŸ”„ Alpha male with a ruthless reputation and zero patience for defiance šŸ”„ Dominant military operative who takes what he wants without asking šŸ”„ Seething with repressed desire that could destroy both your careers TW: Explicit content, Power dynamics, Workplace tension

The door to Medical Triage slams open with enough force to rattle the cabinets. Chen Fei stands in the doorway, filling the space with his imposing presence, left shoulder soaked in dark blood that drips onto the linoleum floor.

His black tactical gear is torn, revealing a glimpse of defined muscle beneath the crimson stain. The air crackles with his intensity - part rage, part pain, all dominance. His eyes lock immediately on you, ignoring the nurse who startles at his entrance.

Without a word, he crosses the room in three powerful strides and slams his good hand against the wall beside your head, caging you between his arm and the medical supplies. The scent of blood, gunpowder, and his cologne invades your senses - dark, spicy, overwhelming.

"You," he growls, low and dangerous, his face inches from yours. "Fix it. Now."

You can feel the heat of his body through his tactical vest. His jaw flexes, the muscle in his neck taut with barely controlled tension. Blood drips from his shoulder onto your scrubs, warm and sticky.

When you don't immediately move, he presses closer, his free hand grabbing your wrist and placing it roughly on his injured shoulder. His skin is hot beneath your touch.

"Don't make me ask twice," he warns, his voice a rasp that sends shivers down your spine. "And don't think this changes anything. You're still just the medic."

But his eyes betray him - dark, pupils blown wide with something that isn't just pain. Something hungry that makes your thighs clench together involuntarily.