#operating room devices

[wikipediapictures]

Automated dispensing cabinet

“XT Anesthesia Workstation, an automated dispensing cabinet (ADC) used in hospital operating rooms.” - via Wikimedia Commons

[the-dye-stained-socialite]

my real favorite old medical tool (besides fun syringes) though is this

used for inhaling chloroform! they'd soak the rags in the chloroform and then they'd put the mask on the patient and have them breathe it in!

there were a few styles but ough. i love them! chloroform was actually used to help during childbirth, originally it wasn't super popular but Vicky used it for her seventh kid so. if the queen does it-

(there was also ether but that was less popular! wasn't as fast and was more flammable)

and then in 1899 (because of one specific doctor especially) we started to really see IV therapy pick up, and ether could be used intravenously so you could have an IV anesthetic as well!

[flowersforbucky]

acquainted

bucky barnes x reader (undercover stripper!reader x undercover bodyguard!bucky)

word count: 3.3k

warnings/tags: SMUT, oral (male and female receiving), vaginal penetration, language, strip club setting, creepy dude being a piece of shit, violence and a brief mention of blood, protective/possessive bucky, reader is afab, no use of y/n, touch her and die trope, Bucky might have a slight lingerie kink... 18+ only!

The pulsating fuschia and lime green strobe lights illuminating the club had been making your eyes throb for the last three hours. EDM plays so loudly that you're surprised blood doesn't trickle down from your ears. Not to mention the suffocating combination of cheap perfume, body odor, cigars, and booze that permeates the air makes your empty stomach churn.

If you never step foot into another nightclub when this is all over, you'll consider yourself lucky. Not just any nightclub - one of New Orleans’ scummiest strip clubs.

Five goddamn nights of this operation and not a lick of progress.

Your objective was simple - obtain proof that the owner was operating a sex trafficking ring out of the club, and then call for the back-up squad parked a block away. So far, you had not been able to acquire any kind of definitive proof. No hints of anything shady going on behind the scenes, and you had yet to even see the owner make an appearance at any point since the mission began.

Everything seems as above board as a strip club can be.

One last night, you compromised with Fury. One last night and if it went as the last few have, you were done, and he owes you a few days of paid leave for putting you through this.

“If you don't stop picking at your garter belt, it's not going to have any sequins left.” Bucky's low voice murmurs through the communication device placed discreetly in your left ear.

“If you don't stop watching my every movement, you’re not going to have any unbroken toes left,” you threaten lightly, taking a sip of your drink - just a Shirley Temple, to keep up appearances. “Shoes like this could do a lot of damage.” You glance down at the pointy heels of the black velvet stilettos.

“Is that not my job?” he counters. You don't have to look over at where he's standing in the corner of the room to know he's smirking. “To not take my eyes off of you?”

“Then do your job. Watch me. You don't have to make comments on my sequins to do that.”

“Alright, alright,” he concedes. “I'll be over here, admiring your sequins from afar. You won't even know I'm here.” The com line clicks off before you can retort.

Except you absolutely would know that he's here. Just as you have the previous four nights of this mission - painfully aware that he's here, tracking your every movement in the skimpiest outfits you've worn in your life, doing the most provocative dances imaginable, and flirting with men that you wouldn't touch with ten foot long poles in real life, all while he keeps to the sidelines in case something were to go wrong.

Keeps to the sidelines and just watches you. Even when one of the dancers approached him to ask if he'd be interested in a private dance once he's off the clock on the first night on the job.

Even when there's gorgeous, topless women crawling on the stage and all but humping the pole in his direct line of sight.

He isn't here to look out for them, of course. He is here solely to keep you safe if things were to go sideways. But you had assumed you would have caught him sneaking glances at the dozen other women at least once by now.

It's almost your turn to go up on stage. You've performed a solo set every night so far, and you still feel every bit as nervous as you did the first time.

You enjoy dancing, actually. In the comfort of your own room, when listening to music alone. When you go out with friends, occasionally. When you took ballet lessons as a child. This, however, was leagues out of your comfort zone.

“The creep from a couple nights ago is back,” Bucky's voice is a strained whisper in your ear.

“Gonna have to narrow it down a bit for me, Barnes. You could be referring to at least half of the men in here right now.”

“Sitting in front of the stage, to the left,” he mumbles back. “He's wearing a red wife-beater–”

“See him,” you interrupt, your eyes zeroing in on the short, stout, beady-eyed fuck who had been thrown out of the club night before last. One of the other security guards on duty chucked him out when he repeatedly got too handsy with one of the girls who had been giving him a lap dance.

“Fantastic,” you huff under your breath, as you finish touching up your lipgloss and reapplying the iridescent baby pink body glitter across your chest. “Just in time for my dance.”

You get up from your seat at the bar and adjust your lace bustier and thong as the announcer calls your stage name.

“He won't lay a finger on you,” Bucky assures you as you're walking up the steps of the platform.

There's a weak round of applause and a few whistles as you take your place on the center of the small stage. You give a vague nod in the direction of the DJ’s booth to indicate you're ready for your song to begin.

An upbeat but sensuous synth-pop song pours out of the speakers throughout the room and you begin to sway your hips.

You're hyper-aware of the fact that you can see Bucky making his way closer to you, away from his position in the back of the room. He settles when he's just a few tables behind the man in the red wife-beater.

There's an eruption of butterflies in the pit of your belly at how close he is. Each night prior to this, he has kept to lingering around the exits and the far wall towards the back of the club. Now, he's close enough that you can actually see his eyes following every languid movement that your body makes around the pole.

“Take your fucking top off!” a grating voice bellows from the audience. “We want to see your tits.”

You don't have to look to know who the voice belongs to. You decide to ignore him, hoping he would stop if you didn't give him any attention. You go to wrap your thighs around the pole again, preparing to spin–

“Did you not fucking hear me?” he shouts even louder this time, audible to everyone over the roaring music. “I said take your fucking–”

A flash of movement in your peripheral vision causes you to freeze around the pole. You turn your full attention to the ruckus, just in time to see Bucky fisting the man's greasy, shoulder length hair and pulling his head back. The music comes to an abrupt pause.

“You don't fucking talk to her like that,” Bucky snarls. “In fact, you don't talk to her at all, you don't look at her, you don't even breathe the same fucking air as her.”

The man is thrashing around, trying and failing miserably to get out of Bucky's grasp.

“Let me go you fucking–”

He doesn't get to finish his sentence before Bucky snaps the man's head forward, sending his face crashing into the granite tabletop.

The instantaneous pool of blood that contrasts so starkly against the white stone snaps you out of your fear-stricken trance.

Bucky pulls his head back up, forcing the man to look up at him.

“It's not my fault she refuses to show off those perfect–”

You all but jump off the stage - miraculously not breaking an ankle in the six inch heels - and rush over to where Bucky still has the man's hair yanked into his fist.

Just as Bucky is beginning to shove the man's head downwards again, you place both of your hands on his chest, gently but effectively shoving him backwards. He immediately releases his grip on the man as the other few security guards on duty arrive to detain the pervert.

“Hey, hey,” you place your hands on his biceps, trying to turn his attention to you and away from the man who he's still glaring after, as he's hauled off by security. “I'm fine, yeah? Everything is fine,” you try to assure him, though you're not sure your shaky voice sounds very convincing. “He's just a creepy, entitled asshole.”

Noticing that Bucky is shaking beneath your touch, you rub your hands up and down his arms in hopes of calming him down.

He finally meets your gaze. He doesn't say anything for a moment, just stares at you as he takes a few deep breaths.

“Go get dressed,” he orders you calmly after a moment. “I’m getting you the fuck out of here.” You want to leave too badly to even think about objecting.

You make a beeline for the changing room, where you throw on a sweater and force your pants over your heels, not even bothering to change out of the lingerie and stilettos.

Bucky's waiting for you right outside the door as you sling your duffel bag across your shoulder.

“How mad do you think Fury will be that we are abandoning our positions?” you ask in a hushed tone as Bucky ushers you through the club, his metal arm wrapped around your waist.

“Not as mad as I am that he's had you doing this bullshit for no reason for almost a week now.”

You and Bucky exit the club as quickly as possible, ignoring the curious and confused stares of the other dancers and security guards. He guides you down the block, then through an alleyway where his motorcycle is parked in a heavy silence - other than the obnoxious clanking of your heels against the pavement.

Bucky straddles one leg over the seat of the bike, taking his place in the driver's position and then hands you the helmet.

“Wait,” you pause before putting it over your head. “I'm starving.” Your stomach growls, as if on cue. “Can we stop and get some take-out?”

He looks at you incredulously. “I just shattered that guy's nose and likely severely concussed him and then just dipped. Our cover is essentially blown, don't you think we should get back to the motel room and lay low until the morning?”

“There's a Chinese place open late just a few blocks from the motel–”

“If I say yes will you put on the helmet and get on the bike?”

Taking that as a win, you slide the helmet over your head and hop on behind him. You wrap your arms securely around his midsection in a tight hug and he takes off down Bourbon Street.

You spend the drive trying to ignore the thought that of all the times you've ridden on the back of Bucky’s motorcycle, you don't remember him ever feeling so tense beneath your touch.

Half an hour later, you're lounging on the rickety motel bed, stuffing your face full of sweet and sour chicken and vegetable fried rice while Bucky fills Sam in on what happened over the phone.

He sits in one of the small chairs at the singular table in the corner of the room, his posture rigid. He answers all of Sam's questions with clipped, one-word responses as he massages his temple between his thumb and forefinger.

He hangs up the phone, refusing to meet your gaze. Instead, he pretends to be interested in the episode of Family Guy playing on the old motel TV.

“Your egg rolls are going to get soggy,” you tell him, pushing the to-go box across the mattress towards him.

“I don't have an appetite right now,” he says, picking up the box of food as he stands. You grab his bicep in your hand as he begins to walk past where you're sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Hey,” you say, stopping him. “Everything's okay. Really. Don't let that guy get to you–”

“A little late for that, don't you think?” He snaps, pulling his arm from your grasp. You sit back, too stunned by his reaction to know how to respond. You just stare after him as he crams his take-out box into the motel room's mini fridge.

“I shouldn't have reacted so harshly,” he says after a moment, still facing away from you. “I couldn't stop myself. He spoke to you that way, and I could have killed him and not thought twice about it. Probably would have if you hadn't intervened.”

He turns back to you. You're frozen in place.

“Do you know what that's like?” He asks, taking a step closer to you. “To feel like you aren't in control of your own body? To be so irrationally protective of someone that you'd kill for them without a second thought?”

You feel like all air has been stripped from your lungs. He's just inches away, staring down at you from where you sit on the edge of the mattress. The way he's looking at you makes your skin feel like it's on fire.

“Because that's what you do to me. That's how you make me feel.”

Heat pools between your legs.

“Come here,” you say - it sounds more like a question than a command.

He closes what little distance is left between the two of you, and pulls you up from the mattress by the tops of your arms so that your body is flush against his.

His mouth hovers over yours - not quite making contact, though you can feel his breath fan across your skin.

He takes his flesh hand and cups the side of your face with it, his thumb trailing across your bottom lip. His metal hand wanders down your back until it reaches the curve of your ass - grasping your cheek in a firm hold and squeezing until his touch borders between pleasure and pain.

“This is what I wanted to do to you every time I saw a man so much as glance in your direction in that club,” he whispers against your mouth. “I thought about bending you over the stage and making them watch me take you right then and there, but they didn't deserve to see that.”

“They aren't here to see us now,” you murmur as you bring your hand to cup the noticeable bulge of his jeans, eliciting a hiss from him. “So what are you going to do now?”

There's a dark grin spread across his face. He pushes you, softly but effectively, back down on the bed. You scout back a few inches on the mattress, and then bring one of your feet up to remove the stiletto heels that you'd completely forgotten to take off upon returning to the motel with your haul of Chinese food.

“Oh, no,” Bucky laughs lowly. “I want you to keep those on. I've grown to like those quite a bit.”

Your cheeks warm in both arousal and bashfulness. You begin to push your pants down your thighs as Bucky kneels on the ground and helps you maneuver the fabric around your shoes. The sweater that you threw over your bustier goes next.

You're left in the lingerie set that you wore at the club.

“Call me jealous,” Bucky sighs as he begins trailing sloppy kisses up the insides of your thighs. “Call me possessive, call me crazy..”

You lay back down against the scratchy comforter as Bucky gets closer and closer to where you're aching to have him the most.

“But I don't want anyone seeing you like this but me.”

He pulls the already soaked lace material of your thong to the side, exposing your cunt.

He licks up your center torturously slow, causing you to let out a sharp exhale. He repeats the motion, and then locks his lips around your clit. Your hands shoot to his hair, fisting your fingers through the short brunet strands.

He eats you until you're a mewling and squirming mess beneath him.

You come hard, clenching your thighs around his head and riding his face through your orgasm.

“Stand up,” you instruct him as soon as you can think semi-clearly.

He obeys without any hesitation. The warm glow of the singular lamp in the motel room highlights the way your slick coats the lower half of his face.

You get up on your hands and knees before him and he lets out an audible groan at the sight in front of him. He bends down enough to kiss you - cupping your face in both of his hands and tipping your head up to give him a better angle to slip his tongue into your mouth. You moan into the kiss - the ache between your thighs reappearing already.

He removes his hands from your face, unbuttoning his pants while still kissing you.

You pull away to help free his cock from the confines of his boxers. Your mouth waters at what's directly in front of you. He's impressively long and girthy, with a thick vein running up the side.

You pump him a few times in your hand, swirling your tongue around the pre-cum dripping from his slit. He's already putty in your hands - groaning above you and placing his metal hand around the back of your neck to keep you where he wants you.

After you've run your tongue up and down his length a few times, you spit on the tip of his cock and massage it over the entirety of his shaft before taking him as far into your mouth as you can in the first go. He throws his head back, moaning your name.

You feel him hit the back of your throat and you gag before pulling back.

He curses under his breath, nudging himself slowly back towards your throat again.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl,” he praises and you moan around his dick. He gradually increases the speed at which he pumps himself into your mouth, obscene noises echoing off of the thin motel room walls.

When he pulls out, you feel drool running down your neck and mascara-tinted tears leaking from your eyes.

“You're so gorgeous like this for me,” he tells you, and despite knowing that you look thoroughly fucked out, you believe him. “Will you turn around?”

You do as he asks, turning around on your hands and knees. You lower your chest down to the bed so that your ass is angled upwards.

“Jesus Christ,” he grunts under his breath. He grips your hips with both of his hands, yanking you to him. His erection juts against the cloth of your underwear.

He tugs them aside once more, giving him access to tease your slit with the head of his cock. You rock backwards, grinding against him. He brings his flesh hand around your stomach and reaches down to rub your clit as he begins to slowly fill you from behind.

He pauses for a moment once he bottoms out, giving you time to adjust to the fullness of him before he starts fucking into you.

The combination of him slamming into you at such an intense angle and massaging you so perfectly has your climax building shamefully fast.

You grunt his name, bouncing your ass to meet his thrusts. “I'm gonna come,” you mewl, knowing he's on the verge of doing the same as his movements become uneven.

One, two, three more pumps and you can feel your pussy clenching around him as you come together.

You pull off of him, collapsing onto the bed and rolling onto your back. He crawls over you, propping himself up on his arms above you.

“You know,” he stares down at you, his eyes trailing to your breasts that are now spilling out of the black lace bustier. “As much as I hated every second of that mission, I do hope I might get to see you in some of these outfits again.”

♡♡♡♡♡

my masterlist!!!

[reasonsforhope]

"A team of researchers at Washington University in St. Louis has developed a real-time air monitor that can detect any of the SARS-CoV-2 virus variants that are present in a room in about 5 minutes.

The proof-of-concept device was created by researchers from the McKelvey School of Engineering and the School of Medicine at Washington University...

The results are contained in a July 10 publication in Nature Communications that provides details about how the technology works.

The device holds promise as a breakthrough that - when commercially available - could be used in hospitals and health care facilities, schools, congregate living quarters, and other public places to help detect not only the SARS-CoV-2 virus, but other respiratory virus aerosol such as influenza and respiratory syncytial virus (RSV) as well.

“There is nothing at the moment that tells us how safe a room is,” Cirrito said, in the university’s news release. “If you are in a room with 100 people, you don’t want to find out five days later whether you could be sick or not. The idea with this device is that you can know essentially in real time, or every 5 minutes, if there is a live virus in the air.”

How It Works

The team combined expertise in biosensing with knowhow in designing instruments that measure the toxicity of air. The resulting device is an air sampler that operates based on what’s called “wet cyclone technology.” Air is sucked into the sampler at very high speeds and is then mixed centrifugally with a fluid containing a nanobody that recognizes the spike protein from the SARS-CoV-2 virus. That fluid, which lines the walls of the sampler, creates a surface vortex that traps the virus aerosols. The wet cyclone sampler has a pump that collects the fluid and sends it to the biosensor for detection of the virus using electrochemistry.

The success of the instrument is linked to the extremely high velocity it generates - the monitor has a flow rate of about 1,000 liters per minute - allowing it to sample a much larger volume of air over a 5-minute collection period than what is possible with currently available commercial samplers. It’s also compact - about one foot wide and 10 inches tall - and lights up when a virus is detected, alerting users to increase airflow or circulation in the room.

Testing the Monitor

To test the monitor, the team placed it in the apartments of two Covid-positive patients. The real-time air samples from the bedrooms were then compared with air samples collected from a virus-free control room. The device detected the RNA of the virus in the air samples from the bedrooms but did not detect any in the control air samples.

In laboratory experiments that aerosolized SARS-CoV-2 into a room-sized chamber, the wet cyclone and biosensor were able to detect varying levels of airborne virus concentrations after only a few minutes of sampling, according to the study.

“We are starting with SARS-CoV-2, but there are plans to also measure influenza, RSV, rhinovirus and other top pathogens that routinely infect people,” Cirrito said. “In a hospital setting, the monitor could be used to measure for staph or strep, which cause all kinds of complications for patients. This could really have a major impact on people’s health.”

The Washington University team is now working to commercialize the air quality monitor."

-via Forbes, July 11, 2023

-

Holy shit. I know it's still early in the technology and more testing will inevitably be needed but holy shit.

Literally, if it bears out, this could revolutionize medicine. And maybe let immunocompromised people fucking go places again

Also, for those who don't know, Nature Communications is a very prestigious scientific journal that focuses on Pretty Big Deal research. Their review process is incredibly rigorous. This is an absolutely HUGE credibility boost to this research and prototype

[sandpipered]

Is there anything more satisfying than an (almost) complete implant set?

Yes, a lot, but let me have this

[moondirti]

ghoap x nanny! reader / 18+ / previous ft. surveillance. handjobs. voyeurism. mild s/m. dirty talk.

They check up on you when they can.

Price wasn't exaggerating when he doled out the mission details. It's a tough one. Grueling. The type that necessitates four flights a week and days of little to no sleep, the men fuelled on nothing but a snow-balling urgency to get it done. The target is a slippery fuck, with connections that transport him across the globe at the first sign of conflict. They come close to apprehending him only once, and nothing comes of it but the exacerbated threat of nuclear war as the bastard starts to squeak like a cornered mouse. Gaz has a near constant migraine. Soap stops being fun around the two week mark, exhaustion slowing his tongue. Ghost grows more unhinged with his kills, punching blades through the throats of anyone who dares get in their way.

But still, they check on you.

Isla occupies a quarter of their headspace at all times; half when they don't have to dedicate their focus to the operation. It's the longest they've ever spent away from their girl, the withdrawals hitting them like a bag of bricks. They do whatever's necessary, then, to tune into the nanny cams they have set up around the house, lest Johnny cries about the way her hands dimple when she uncurls a fist again. Or worse – before Simon forgets what tethers him to humanity.

They find the two of you are always doing something.

Which isn't a surprise. You had mentioned your background in early childhood education; they just thought that it'd been a device to impress them. But it's clear that you're eager to put your degree to use when they see you setting up yet another enrichment activity for their daughter and encouraging her to engage.

The first time, they had just arrived on base. It'd been five hours since they've seen you last and already, Johnny had pulled his phone to log onto the monitoring app he had installed.

Sure enough, you were in the same overalls they saw you in last, Isla changed into a fresh pair of pyjamas after her bath. You had her set on her play mat, but replaced the dangling toys for newer, more colourful ones. As she reached for them, you would sound out the shade in a high-pitched voice and grin excitedly when she'd babble back, as if aaaah! meant green.

He felt his heart tug something fierce, caught between endearment and unease at missing out, before getting dressed for debrief.

The third time, you let them know you could tell when the nanny cam is in active use. Not accusatorially, of course – it unfolded in a way too innocent to be anything but a whammy on their part.

They were in a humvee on exfil after being ambushed by the local army – soldiers with blood money lining their pockets, tasked with dispatching the bloodhounds that keep sniffing their patron's trail. Simon had watched a little boy get caught in the crossfire and decided it was imperative to check if Isla was okay, despite her being hundreds of miles away and off anyone's radar.

You're the first thing he saw, carrying the weight of a huge plastic storage container filled with water. In it, there were several rubber animals that inspired a fit of squeals somewhere off screen. You had laughed, a little out of breath, and he remembers the relief that flooded his chest at the dual sounds. Like the cold lick of waves across scorching sand.

As you'd passed by the camera, you stopped and crouched so your face would be in view.

"Isla likes splashing around in the water. I'm thinking of getting her a paddling pool." And you lifted the container as if you would ever need to justify the way you take of their daughter. "Hope you guys are well."

Johnny murmured from beside him. "Forgot aboot th' status light."

The seventh– ninth– maybe twelfth time (having lost count), it was just in time to catch you on your way out with Isla in tow.

They'd tuckered down in a shitty motel, awaiting the next word from Laswell, all four of them in one room. Gaz had been given the bed as consolation for the torn tendon in his knee, and Price had claimed the couch with nothing more than a growl about his back needing it. Thus, Ghost and Soap found themselves on the floor, the latter man tucked under his partner's arm, the other occupied with checking in on the porch feed. The time difference made it so that it was midday where you were.

You were dressed – and Simon recalls it as clearly as the day you met – in a green wrap skirt and tulip hat, their darling girl in a shade of pink that complimented its petals, sat on your hip as you struggled with her buggy. They forgot to give you the run down on unfolding it before they left, too overwhelmed with everything else to pay mind to the little things.

Johnny had jumped for the two-way talk function immediately, tapping on the little mic before clearing his throat.

"There's a latch under th' left arm. Flip it 'n' it shuid unfold automatically."

You jumped, pausing to face the porch cam with wide eyes. "Oh– Oh my god. Haha," Following his directions, you were able to get it open with little fuss. "that is so embarrassing. Pretend you never saw that."

Simon had his balaclava on, uncomfortable with going bare-faced in an unfamiliar room, but Johnny still felt the soft smile splitting his cheeks. Its warmth was unmistakable.

"Nonsense, lass. 'twas cute."

You bloomed at that, wiggling a little in place. Though the flustered moment hadn't lasted long, for Isla's mouth fell open at the recognition of her father's voice, chubby hand reaching out in its direction.

"Bldha! Pffffpp."

"That's right, baby! That's Da." You waddled closer to have her inspect the strange contraption hooked above their mailbox, turning your attention back to them. "We're going on a narration walk! Isla's gotten so good at recognising animals because of them. But it was so nice to hear from you. Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

"Gah!"

Simon locked the phone when neither of them could muster a response, emotion rushing their throats like white-river rapids. Hot tears seep into his side, a pair of misty eyes buried in his ribs.

"I know. I know, Johnny. S'alright. We'll see 'er again soon."

Now, he's made good on his promise.

All three rogue missiles located and dismantled in record time, meaning their slimy target could no longer use them as a shield. He'd been in shackles within the next day, wrangled somewhere in Istanbul and shipped off to a maximum security prison in The Hague. The task force left no loose thread untugged, which took an extra day but will be worth it in the long run. Price promises to reward them with a round, on him.

They're on their way back to base when Johnny tunes in a final time.

He's sure that Isla is asleep by now, confirmed by the baby monitor that focuses on the sprawled form in her cot. It would be best to exit the app and doze off like the other men – lord knows he needs it – but he can't help the itch to look for you too. To click through every channel, his curiosity unquenched, until–

Ah. There.

On the couch, bare legs stretched out along its length. A throw blanket tangled between them, one bent at the knee to support the book you're currently fingering through. The sight alone is enough to make him salivate.

But then he notices the thin material of your top.

Practically translucent. No doubt made for bed. You aren't wearing a bra, either, and the darker shade of your nipples practically flaunts itself through the fabric. They're too soft to protrude and cast a shadow on your breasts, but he's still able to get a good impression of what you would look like nude. Some part of him wilts with guilt at the shameless voyeurism he's subjecting you to.

Another part sends blood to the weight between his legs.

"Bleedin' Christ."

"Hm?" Simon grunts, disturbed by the restless pace of Johnny's heart. His head lifts off his shoulder, blinking warily to clear the silky gossamer of sleep threading his eyelids, before focusing on the grainy footage on his partner's screen.

"Ghost." He whines, hips bucking in desperation when the larger man does nothing. They haven't had the chance to relieve themselves since that night at the motel, and even then it had been a messy frotting as they tried not to disturb their sleeping comrades.

"A'right. Off to the bathroom with you, then."

He doesn't turn off of the live feed even as they cram into the compact space. Though he should. He needs to. Not because you're aware of their surveillance – you're far too engrossed in your book to pay mind to the blinking red light on the nanny cam. But because only depraved men gets off to unsuspecting hens, especially the ones they hired in good faith to take care of their child while they're away.

It's a dirty, dirty thrill that roars through him as Simon wraps an arm around his waist, palming his hard-on through his trousers. And it's a dirty thrill he wants no part of.

"Practically leakin' in your pants, boy. First time you see a pair of tits?" In the small mirror before him, he watches his pants get pulled down past his ass, underwear stained a deeper swatch of blue where his tip spits prespend.

It might as well be the first time, way he's humping Simon's hand like an over-eager mutt. Though he can't manage to choke it out through the rough groans pressing his vocal chords. Instead, what escapes him is a pathetic mess of trembling letters. "S'not... fookin, not– not–"

"Shhh, it's okay. She's jus' so pretty, yeah? Can't help but chub up and beg me to rub your aching cock, wishing it was her darlin' hand wrapped 'round you instead. I know."

"Nn, nae, Sim- Si– I wouid never... Ah!"

It's dry. A little raw. He makes no effort to lube his calloused palm to help it glide easier along Johnny's length, but he knows his boy better than he knows himself sometimes. That he needs pain when he's doing something bad like this, or else he'll lose himself to the guilt. A little bit of penance for the Catholic.

"Don' lie to me. Y'can't. But tha's alright," He pulls the foreskin off the head of his uncut mass, kneading a bit into his frenulum to watch the way white oozes against red. "I think about it too."

"A-Aye?"

"Hm. Think 'bout ya swallowing my cock while I sit 'er on my face. Bet she tastes sweet, like nectar. Jus' look at the thing." Which he does. You're seated a bit differently than you had been before. Less liberal. Wound up tight, with your nose buried in your book and your toes curled beneath your feet. Surely captured by some tense plot line or the other. "Would make you clean her cunt after I pump 'er full. Or vice versa, if she's into tha'."

"Yer a-aff yer heid... Fuck, I cannae–"

"That's it, Johnny. Let go, boy." Simon's strokes keep at the top, tugging in short, rough movements over the phone. The blanket now covers you fully, but it's no matter. The image of your breasts are now seared into both their minds, an array of fantasies unfurling before them, each nastier than the last. "Jus' like that."

Thick ropes of cum streak over the screen and sink countertop. It's weeks worth of pent up frustration, a culmination of despair and desire as a stuttered moan claws up Johnny's throat. The hand leaves his cock only when he starts shooting blanks, clenching tight at the overstimulation.

Simon makes him lick the mess off his palm.

(And unbeknownst to them, they'd hit the mic on their way to the bathroom.

You'd heard the whole thing.)

[zhejiangleihaoelectric]

[lordprettyflackotara]

noise || hoody

SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+. remember when i talked about this hoody fic 509 years ago? yeah here it is. also yeS i am aware masky & hoody belong to marble hornets this is the only time im going to address this💀 we are in 2024 in this fandom WE KNOW. anyways enjoy !! <3

If there was anything you could’ve changed about your life, you had a particular decision in mind.

Being a desperate college student for cash, babysitting and dog walking wasn’t paying the off the debt you were accumulating.

You had scoured Craigslist, confident that there would be an odd job you’d be able to accomplish for quick cash.

Looking back you wish you had known quick cash wouldn’t come easy.

A posting offering $5k a week fell into your lap about a week later. The details seemed easy enough. The ability to clean an older mansion, whilst keeping the identities of the multiple infamous residents that resided there a secret seemed like a piece of cake.

What the posting didn’t list, was that the infamous residents were unhinged killers. Some of which you couldn’t even categorize as human.

It also didn’t list that your position would be residing in the mansion, permanently.

Being a maid in the Slenderman mansion was, in lack of better words: fucking terrifying.

The residents operated at odd hours. No matter what time you cleaned, you always received the displeasure of running into someone.

The longer you stayed, the longer paranoia began to settle in. Ben Drowned, the poster of the Craigslist ad, was a perv. You learned to stray away from electronic devices he could peep his head through. Jeff the killer, one of the most unhinged, had a short temper. He was one of the first ones to opt out of having his room cleaned by you, a decision you silently praised after walking by and seeing how filthy it was.

The next to opt out with a demonic creature named Eyeless Jack, one who specifically requested you stay out of his medical lab. Given all of the blood and goop you had mopped up at this point, a fear of being eaten led you to offering to clean it regardless. EJ knew you wouldn’t be able to handle it, given his ‘hobbies’ were the most gore filled of the mansions residents. It didn’t surprise him when you left the lab green, puking immediately in a bucket he had placed beside the door for you.

The other members whose names you were obligated to memorize, Jane, Clockwork, Jason the something maker, all were rarely home. You learned to steer clear of Jason’s workshop, the dolls he made often speaking to you as if they had souls. The only three other residents who lived in the mansion full time (minus its owner), were what you learned to be proxies. These proxies, two of them at least, seemed to be human just like you.

Ticci Toby’s mortality was still up in the air for you. He once had tripped and fallen after you had mopped the floors, landing on the marble face first. He got up like nothing happened, giggling to himself about ‘how wet you made the floor’. After observing him throw axes in the training room, you decided to steer clear of him.

Masky seemed to be the trio’s leader, his face consistently hidden behind a doll resembling mask. He avoided you like the plague, skipping the formalities and acting as if you didn’t exist. You never asked questions, not knowing how long anyone had truly been here. But Masky in particular seemed a bit older than everyone, when you accidentally stumbled upon him coming home late one night from a mission. His nose was trailing blood, his mask broken in half. You ensured to avoid eye contact, but extended a wet washcloth to him so he could attend to his nose.

After that your dynamic remained the same for the most part. Except when both of you occupied a room together, neither of you made an effort to beeline to the door.

Hoody was the last proxy, the one that made you more at ease than the others. Hoody had spoken a grand total of maybe ten words to you, introducing himself and Masky before dashing out of the back door. The only time you really saw him was when you cleaned his room, the man doing a poor job of pretending to read magazines while you cleaned. Other than that, you only caught glimpses of the proxies when they came home in the late hours of the night from missions.

Most of the time they were soaked in blood. In a couple of odd occasions you had to assist them in carrying one another up to Eyeless Jack’s medical lab. You couldn’t figure out why the proxies were here, two humans not seeming to fit in with the rest of misfits that resided here. You had no idea soon enough you’d be up close and personal.

Late night was when you preferred to clean, most of the killers away from the mansion and out hunting. The existence of the residents here only existed because of their dedication to keep their identities a secret. Night time was the perfect cover, for them and for you. You were leaning over the kitchen sink, scrubbing at a particular stubborn pot when you heard the back door open. You tried very hard not to stare, not wanting to gain unwanted attention.

You glanced up briefly, catching a glance of Toby’s and Masky’s familiar figures as they trudged upstairs. “He cost us that fucking mission, Slender’s gonna be so pissed off,” Masky growled, rounding the corner of the kitchen. Toby trailed behind him, an axe dripping blood slung over his shoulder. “Y-yeah, what w-w-was he thinking?!” Toby exclaimed, his stuttering something you had grown accustomed to. You noted Hoody’s absence, your eyebrows raising as you returned your gaze to the pot.

The sound of doors slamming echoed through out the other wise quiet mansion, the silence fulfilling you with some sort of ease. It didn’t take long for the final proxy to stumble into frame, his hand cupping his face. You weren’t forbidden from interacting with the mansions residents, your urge to help sweeping over you. Hoody was awkwardly stumbling, immediately leaning onto you for support as you helped him stay standing.

“I got it,” He huffed. His usual ski mask was half raised, the bottom half of his face revealed to you for the first time. His chin and upper lip had surprisingly clean cut facial hair, kept to a minimum. You guided him around the counter, helping him sit onto the kitchen counter by the sink. Hastily he shoved his yellow hood off of his head, yanking the ski mask off with it. You were surprised a normal human being stared back at you, a large gash sliced across his cheek.

“Jesus Christ,” You muttered. You grabbed a clean wash cloth, running it under cold water. “Didnt ask for your commentary doll,” Hoody said dryly. You swallowed, wringing out the excess water. You could’ve done what you did with Masky, handing him the washcloth and wishing him a silent farewell. But instead you didn’t. “Sorry,” You mumbled. You craved human contact, any kind of human contact. Brushing off your skirt you stepped in between his legs, leaning forward.

You were careful to avoid eye contact, focusing on dabbing the wound. Hoody silently winched under the feeling, inhaling through his teeth. As gently as you could you dabbed away the blood. “Do you want me to get EJ?” You asked. Hoody’s face was stone cold, from what you could see out of the corner of your eye anyways. “Dont bother, i’m sure he’s sick of patching us up all the time,” He grumbled. The wound didn’t look deep, just very long. Thankfully most of the blood was gone, the rest of his face covered in specs of dry blood (that you presumed to not be his) and dirt.

Turning on the sink you washed out the washcloth, the crimson paint drifting off down the drain with the water. You then returned to Hoody, wiping off his face. You weren’t sure what compelled you to be so compassionate, Hoody’s eyes fluttering shut. He took a deep breath, his shoulders seemingly relaxing. You were gentle of course, not wanting to piss the killer in front of you off. But even Hoody knew your action wasn’t callous.

Once you were done you awkwardly stepped aside, putting the rag in the sink. “You want a cig?” Hoody asked. He dug in his jeans, pulling out a beat up cigarette box. “Is this your way of showing gratitude?” You asked. The man in front of you smiled, extending you the box. “This right here is the only kind of buzz you’re getting around here doll,” He explained, allowing himself to half smile. You had never smoked a cigarette before, nor had you really planned on it. Not like it mattered now.

You put one to your lips like people did in movies, watching Hoody do the same. He pulled out a lighter, flicking it and igniting the end of his cigarette. You leaned forward, watching Hoody attempt to flick the lighter again. The flame refused to ignite, the sight of small sparks making him sigh. “Masky always takes the good lighters,” He muttered. He inhaled his cigarette, blowing the smoke to the right. You found the gesture of attempting to not violate you with smoke a little sweet.

“Well I appreciate the offer. I’ve never smoked a cigarette anyways,” You admit. Hoody shook his head. “That just won’t do then. Put it to your lips and stay still,” He ordered. You did as instructed, watching him lean closer to you. His fingers went under your chin, keeping your head held high. You felt your face beginning to burn, the end of his cigarette lighting yours as you inhaled. You both avoided each others gazes, until the second he began to back away.

For a brief moment you shared eye contact, searching each other’s eyes. For what? You didn’t know. You properly inhaled, coughing immediately. “You guys like this stuff?” You asked in between coughs, continuing to choke. Hoody nonchalantly took another drag of his, watching you struggle. “It’ll grow on you, trust me. I didn’t like it at first either,” He confessed. Once you regained strength in your lungs you properly stood up. Hoody remained seated on the kitchen counter, with you standing beside him.

“How long have you been here?” You asked curiously. You were stepping over a hundred boundaries, ones you could die for if you stepped over the line too far. “A while,” Hoody answered honestly. You took another drag of your cigarette, the taste of tobacco growing on you. “How long are you going to be here?” Hoody countered. You exhaled, glancing back at the proxy. He had exhaled through his nose, boldly making eye contact with you.

“A while.”

You found the courage to turn around, facing him fully. “You aren’t lonely?” You asked. Hoody gave you a smile, tossing the bud of his cigarette into the nearby trashcan. “I am, are you?” He asked curiously. You followed his lead, tossing the bud of the cigarette into the trashcan. If it set the kitchen on fire, it wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen. “Yeah I am,” You admit. Hoody slid off of the counter, his tall height towering over you.

“Do you uh, wanna change that?” He asked. For a killer who had a victims blood splattered across his face moments ago, he seemed so awkward. You wondered how long it had been since he had been with a woman. How long would it be before you could be with a man again? “Please,” You sighed. Hoody kissed you just as rough as you expected, both of you melting into the other. Both of you were undeniably needy, touch depraved and lonely. You were sure this was forbidden for both of you but as his tongue slid into your mouth, you just couldn’t find it within yourself to care.

“Call me Brian but only when it’s us, okay? Thats not who I am anymore but that’s who I want to be with you, okay?” Hoody asked. You nodded, the normal name bringing your comfort. Brian’s hand snaked down your waist, squeezing and kneading at the flesh of your ass. You whimpered into his mouth, the sound only making him harder. There was no telling how much longer you’d be around, the residents of the mansion unhinged enough to snap at any moment.

You couldn’t fully undress here and going upstairs was out of the question. “This has to be quick, we can’t get caught,” You whispered. Brian nodded, slipping his hand up your skirt. He rubbed against your wet cunt, your panties preventing any further stimulation. Brian had zero control over his life but he did right here, right now. You had no control over yours either, the decision to fuck each other to release steam the only free will decision either of you could make. You palmed him through his jeans, his cock practically busting through the fabric.

He guided you to the counter, grabbing the sides of your panties and yanking them down to your ankles. He shoved them into his pocket for what you thought to be safe temporary keeping. But Brian had other ideas.

“Fuck, please, wanna feel you Brian,” You whispered, trying hard to not groan loudly. Brian quickly undid his belt bringing his lips back to yours. It had been so long since he had kissed anyone, your soft lips driving him mad. It wasn’t long before his cock was at your entrance, awkwardly shuffling with his jeans at his ankles. He fell a bit backwards, causing you to laugh. “Fucking hell, sorry-” He began apologizing. You giggled, hopping off of the counter.

You brought him fully to the ground, pushing his back against the oven. “This might work better,” You replied, lowering yourself down onto his cock. Brian’s cock felt like heaven, your mouth falling open. Both of you let out a sigh of relief. You had no way to masturbate, no way to possibly release the stressful tension building inside of you. As you pressed your forehead against Brian’s, you realized that this was what you got. This was your outlet.

Brian’s gloved hands met your waist, helping you roll your hips. You let out a loud groan, one of his hands flying to your mouth. “Shh, you can’t make any noise,” Brian warned, your inability to stay composed only making him more hot and bothered. He took control, guiding your hips to ride him at a pace that worked for both of you. You were as wet as a virgin, your body yearning for more as Brian abused your g spot. Your sinful moans were muffled by his gloved hand, his other attempting to guide you.

He brought himself close to your ear. “If you wanna get off, you’re gonna have to ride me by yourself mkay? Do that and i’ll play with that pretty clit of yours doll,” He huffed, trying to control his own noises. You nodded yes profusely, trying to concentrate on grinding your hips against his. With his spare hand he found your clit, drawing sloppy circles around it. For a brief moment he was worried about his ‘skills’ not having slept with a woman in years. Whether he was good or bad at it, you didn’t appear to give a shit. You were still a panting mess, your hair sticking to your forehead from sweat.

Your walls clenched tighter around Brian as you felt yourself closer to euphoria, your eyes fluttering shut. With your forehead pressed to his you pawed at his hoodie, grabbing handfuls as your orgasm washed over you. Your sinful noises were muted by Brian’s hand, the muffled sounds music to his ears that he had made you feel that good. Your walls fluttering around him triggered his own orgasm, his cum flooding inside of you. He dropped his hand from your mouth, both of you taking a moment to breathe.

In a moment of true loneliness you leaned against Brian’s shoulder, ignoring the faint smell of dried blood and sweat. Unsurely Brian stroked your hair, trying to remember if that was comforting or not. He licked his dry lips, a bold question on the tip of his tongue.

“You wanna share a cigarette again tomorrow?”

[kittenlittle24]

Appendicitis

GIF not mine, comment, like and reblog!

Masterlist

Rushing to the hospital after your son woke up from a nap crying from a stomach ache and fever, you went to Princeton-Plainsboro knowing only there are doctors you can trust.

Your son has been complaining about stomach aches all morning, your husband already left for work, thinking it was just a bug you let him stay home and rest. However when he woke up screaming and crying and with a fever you made the decision to go in.

A young male doctor greeted you. One you never met before nor heard of.

He asked him to lay back but you stopped him before he could examine him.

“I want you to page Dr Gregory House.”

Sighing and rubbing his head, “Miss, Dr. House is very busy and he doesn’t treat kids with belly aches.”

Crossing your arms, “He will treat this kid. Page him or I will march straight to Dr. Cuddy.”

Still crying, your son tugged on your shirt, his other arm wrapped around his stomach, “I want my daddy.”

You hugged him and stroked his hair, while the doctor left the examination room.

You tried everything in your power to calm him down, though nothing helped.

Around 20 minutes later the door opened and the same young doctor entered the room. Standing from your seat, “I told you I want Doc-“

“Yeah, yeah, doctor House is here,” a voice interrupted from the doorway.

He limped inside, once he saw who it was that demanded his presence, a serious look set on his features. Gently he maneuvered your son to a lying position to examine his stomach.

He looked up at him, “Daddy, my tummy really hurts.”

The young doctor froze in shock, mouth gaping open.

“I want complete blood and urine tests. Also, get an X-ray and ultrasound of the abdomen and chest,” he ordered the doctor before he turned to you, “Seems like Appendicitis, a surgeon will operate to take out the infected appendix. This is called an appendectomy. Usually, surgeons make 3 small cuts in the belly and use a small device called a laparoscope to remove the appendix. He’ll probably get to go home today.”

Leaning down he kissed the top of the boy’s head and moved to hug you, he whispered words of comfort and encouragement, saying you did good by bringing him. He stayed close to you the whole time, only leaving to monitor the tests are doing properly and keep your son calm.

A brunette doctor sat next to you and handed you a mug of coffee. Thanking her you took a big sip and put your hands around the warm mug.

“So you’re house’s wife?”

Shrugging, “We never married but I think it’s as close as it gets.”

“And he’s his son?”

You both looked up upon hearing a hard fake cough interrupting her interrogation.

“If you’re done grilling her Dr. Cameron you could make yourself useful anywhere else.” He told her and took her seat after she left the waiting room.

Putting his arm around you, he pulled you to lean on his chest. About a torturous hour later a surgeon came out to say the surgery went well and your son is being moved to a recovery room.

Letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you let yourself collapse into House’s arms, finally feeling the stress leave your body. He kissed your temple and rubbed your arm, “He’s fine, probably going to demand unreasonable amounts of ice cream for being brave.”

Laughing you turned to kiss him, “He can have it. Thank you,”

Scrunching his eyebrows, “Are you thanking me for doing my job or being his dad?”

You shook your head, “For putting up with me.”

[springwitch26]

flowers and firsts (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

summary: being the gracious friend you are, you offer to share your weed with melissa and jacob for a fun friday night at their place. when jacob goes to bed, things get heated between you and your favorite coworker.

warnings: smut (18+), consensual high sex, recreational marijuana use (be responsible), strap-ons, praise kink, vibrators, soft melissa, stoner reader, attempts at comedy (it's a fun fic guys), mario kart 8 GONE SEXUAL

notes: happy 4/20. this wasn't requested, but my OCD is beating the fuck out of me rn and writing it brought me comfort. let me know what you think. much love from your favorite slutty stoner 💚

"i know kids are curious, but eighth grade is a bit early to try weed, right?" jacob bounced his leg anxiously as he raised the question to his friends in the teachers' lounge. one of his students had just been suspended for bringing marijuana to school, and jacob was characteristically worried about the kid.

"i started in tenth grade, but teenagers are growin' up younger and younger these days," melissa responded. barbara raised her eyebrows in shock, and melissa reacted with an amused half-smile. "like trouble over here. when was your first time, hon?"

you tried to ignore the innuendo as melissa invited you into the conversation. you had been hired to teach the third grade a few months ago. you and melissa had a rapport from the first moment you walked into the lounge. every time you were in a room together, you made each other laugh. melissa made you feel at ease in your new workplace, and you felt lucky to have her.

because you both got along so well, ava often paired you up for team-building exercises and combined-class activities. the two of you weren't exactly close friends yet, but you had chemistry. that much was obvious to everyone at abbott.

"tenth grade for me, too," you answered between sips of your morning coffee. "a friend and i did it in the bathroom before art class. good memories."

"what, did you have some kinda fancy vape pen?" melissa cocked an eyebrow at you.

"i wouldn't call it fancy, but yeah, we mostly smoked carts," you explained. "bought 'em from the upperclassmen in the parking lot before school. i'm pretty sure they weren't pure weed, though. we had to be smoking battery acid, or plastic or something."

"god, your generation is weird. smokin' chemicals out of a flash drive," melissa said, gesturing wildly to convey her amazement. "the first time i got high was in detention. my buddy steve would sneak in and bring us cigarettes and blunts. they all looked the same, so we played russian roulette with it. now everybody walks around with those neon devices in their pockets."

"i can't tell if you're being serious or if you're referencing the breakfast club," you giggled, nudging the redhead's shoulder jokingly as you sat down next to her.

"ha ha, very funny, little miss," melissa deadpanned. you had asked her to stop calling you "kid" a few weeks ago. she respected your wishes by coming up with all sorts of endearing synonyms to call you instead. "what about you, jacob? you used to vape—ever experimented with mary jane?"

"or mark john?" you added. melissa snorted and gave you a playful swat on the arm.

"no, actually, i haven't," jacob said, rolling his eyes at your quip. "i didn't have many friends in high school or college, and after that i had to be drug tested regularly for teachers without borders. i never got the chance."

"well, if you ever feel like trying something new, i have plenty to share," you offered. "can't have you over at my place, though; every time i bring guests around, my crazy neighbor thinks they're cia operatives."

everyone in the room except melissa gave you a shocked look. barbara looked especially aghast, her brightly painted lips curled into an 'o' shape.

"damn, i thought janine was the only after-school stoner here. what a pleasant surprise!" ava broke the silence.

"i suppose i would partake given one of those weed pens you mentioned," jacob said to you. "the only thing i've been vaping lately is air, and it gets stale after a while."

"oh no, i haven't used a cart since high school," you clarified. "if you're smoking with me, you're smoking. don't worry, it's easy. just like vaping, but better in every way."

"first of all, no smoke circle is happening under my roof without me." melissa chimed in, looking at you with a silent question in her eyes. you nodded—of course you wanted her there. "and second, where do you even get the weed? if you buy the legal stuff from new york or massachusetts, you're not bringin' it to my house."

"i wouldn't dream of it," you affirmed. "i only smoke authentic philly weed. don't worry about it; i got a guy."

---

that friday night, you showed up on melissa's doorstep wearing a casual t-shirt dress, with a tote bag full of goodies slung over your shoulder. jacob was the one to answer the door.

"hey! come on in, melissa's making pizza," he said cheerfully, a bit jittery with anticipation.

you followed jacob inside and found melissa leaning over the kitchen island, smiling fondly at you. she was wearing sweatpants and a loose-fitting striped shirt, with her hair loose and a bit messy from cooking. she looked radiant and comfortable.

"you know, the pizza will taste better if we smoke before dinner," you proposed.

"bold of you to assume my pizza could taste any better," melissa joked back.

"i'm game," jacob said. "i want the full marijuana experience."

"in that case, help me set up," you said to the history teacher. "i want you to see how everything works."

you laid the contents of your tote bag out on the island countertop: a ziploc baggie full of flower, a little purple grinder, a holographic pink bowl, and a yellow lighter with white flowers on it.

"jacob, this is a grinder," you said, uncapping the grinder and opening the ziploc bag. "we're gonna use it to break up the flower into little pieces."

"oh wow, that is... pungent," jacob remarked. he watched as you ground up the weed, then handed the pink glass bowl to him.

"and this is a bowl, or a pipe if you're lame," you said. "you wanna do the honors?"

jacob grinned and reached into the grinder, bouncing excitedly on his heels. you put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. he filled the bowl, looking to you for approval several times while he did it.

"awesome, we're ready," you said. melissa placed her pizza in the oven and joined the circle.

"let's take it out on the patio," melissa suggested.

she led you and jacob out to the patio, a small ledge overlooking the city with three chairs conveniently set up in a tight circle. it was 7pm and the sun had just begun its descent, casting philadelphia in an orange glow.

the three of you sat down. you held the bowl up to your lips and moved to light it, but melissa snatched the lighter from your hand. she leaned in and held the flame to the bowl, her face inches from yours. you tried to concentrate on the task at hand, rather than her painted lips or her vivid green eyes dancing all over you.

you took a long inhale of the smoke and blew it up toward the sky. melissa plucked the bowl out of your hand and took a hit. she held the smoke in her lungs for an impressive amount of time for someone who didn't smoke regularly. she passed the still-lit bowl to jacob.

as soon as jacob took his hit, you knew it was gonna hurt. he overestimated his own lung capacity, and he didn't even finish blowing the smoke out before he was coughing.

"happens to everybody, pal," melissa patted jacob's back to ease his pain.

"ugh!" jacob sputtered between coughs. "why didn't you guys tell me smoking hurts?"

---

several rotations later, the three of you were high. well, you and melissa were high; jacob was outright fried. not altogether unexpected, but funny as hell.

when melissa's pizza was done, you all resolved to eat outside so you could watch the sunset together.

"this is heavenly, mel," you moaned after a delicious bite of the pizza.

"ha!" jacob exclaimed, and you and melissa turned to him, confused. meeting melissa's gaze, he threw his arms up in the air—like he expected her to understand what he meant by that one noise. "she stole two syllables from your name. you can't just take syllables, y/n. they're not yours."

"since when do you care about private property rights?" you quipped back before turning your attention to melissa. "i'm serious though. this pizza is sooo good. like last-meal-on-death-row good."

"keep talkin' sweet like that, and you can call me whatever you want," melissa replied with a wink, sending a flood of warmth to your face.

"what were we talking about? just now?" jacob chimed in, his eyes wide and darting every which way.

"... i actually don't know," you said with a giggle. you tried to remember, you really did. but you could feel melissa's eyes on you, and you heard her words echoing in your head. and it was hard to focus on anything else.

"short term memory loss! add that to the list of things you guys didn't warn me about," jacob scoffed.

"jacob, eat your damn pizza," melissa cut in. a peaceful smile graced her lips as she stared out at the city skyline, now a twilight blue in the absence of the sun. "i've missed this feeling, everythin' all fuzzy and light. how are you holding up, lovebug?"

your heart fluttered at the endearing name. melissa, it seemed, wore her heart on her sleeve when she was high—judging by the adoring way she gazed at you while she awaited your response. maybe the weed was messing with your head, but you swore she'd never looked so beautiful.

her eyes lacked any trace of the fire you were used to seeing (though they were quite red). for once, she wasn't on guard. her plump lips curled around her wine glass as she took a sip of merlot, vocalizing her sensual appreciation with a hum.

her long auburn hair was tucked behind her ears, resting on her shoulders in loose waves instead of her preferred meticulous curls. you wanted to run your fingers through her locks, feel their softness and smell her shampoo.

entranced by the redhead, you forgot she had asked you a question. melissa tapped your knee in reminder.

"i feel perfect," was your soft reply. you were beaming brightly before the sentence even finished. rather than sitting in a chair, you felt like you were floating on a cloud. the colors of melissa's patio and the sky blended together in a beautiful, swirling mosaic. the sounds of the city were clear and pleasant as philly wound down for the night. "i'm so happy."

"glad to hear it, sunshine. but i'm pretty sure jacob is asleep," melissa chuckled and patted the man's shoulder. he didn't stir, remaining slumped and conked out in his chair. "he's been losin' sleep over the kid who got suspended. bending over backwards trying to keep 'em on track."

"oh gosh," you said sympathetically before patting jacob a bit more firmly than melissa had. "jacob, hey. c'mon, it's time for bed. get up, go get cozy."

your words were slurred and hushed, but they seemed to pierce the veil of jacob's slumber as he awoke with a start.

melissa stood behind jacob's chair, gently rocking it back and forth to bring him back to the conscious world.

"can't go to bed, we just started," jacob grumbled, but his eyes were still closed. he was dangerously close to falling asleep again.

"from the looks of it, you're either gonna spend the night sleepin' in this chair or in your bed, so get up," melissa said resolutely.

"yeah, and besides, there's always next time," you assured jacob as he stretched and groaned his way into an upright position. you made eye contact with melissa, and this time you winked.

---

after helping jacob into bed (his motor skills really deteriorated when he got high) and smoking another bowl together, you and melissa were ready to continue your night.

"alright, sweetheart, it's down to you and me," melissa said, sitting down next to you on the couch. "what do you wanna do?" you pondered the question, looking around the room for inspiration.

"oh my god, you have a nintendo switch?" you asked excitedly, gesturing to the black tablet plugged in next to the cable box.

"that's jacob's. he showed me one of the games on there—animal crossing, i think it was. i don't get it. why play a game if you can't win?"

"alright, i know what we have to do now," you said, walking over to jacob's game cabinet and pulling out mario kart 8. holding the case up for melissa to see, you grinned. "four races. whoever wins gets whatever she wants from the other."

you were distantly aware of the implications, but you were too high to reconsider what you'd proposed.

you figured melissa would want something from your thoroughly decorated classroom if she won. if you won, you'd ask her to make you a custom pizza.

"you have no idea what you just started, hon," melissa said with a confident smirk.

"may the best woman win."

---

how the hell was she so good at everything?

melissa had needed some time to warm up to the switch controls, complaining about how the little red rectangle was too small to hold comfortably. but she was a quick learner with skilled fingers, and soon she was absolutely demolishing you.

it also didn't help that your coordination escaped you when you were high. you had driven off of too many ledges to count.

"two wins in a row for luigi," melissa bragged as she crossed the finish line of the third race. "hope you're ready to give me whatever i want, princess. don't think i forgot about our bet."

"daisy won the first race," you pointed out calmly. "i can still bring it back. but you know what this last race has to be?"

"what?"

"rainbow road. it's the perfect final showdown course," you explained, navigating to the course with your controller.

"get ready to be mine for a night," melissa said lowly. god, you knew she was talking about the bet, but she knew damn well what she was doing. by this point your panties were almost uncomfortably wet.

you leaned into her unconsciously as the race countdown began. you both held your controllers tight, almost shoulder to shoulder.

3...

2... (you push down the gas pedal button)

1...

GO!!!

daisy took off with a boost of speed thanks to your timing. luigi had a false start as his engine blew out. you cheered, and melissa cursed.

"how the fuck do you do that?" she asked, exasperated.

"play the game!" you demanded without looking away from the screen.

the competition was intense. you and melissa weaved around curves, nearly fell off the road, passed and bumped each other. neither one of you spoke until lap 3.

coming up on one of the last turns of the last lap, your hands jerked and you swerved. reacting on instinct, you bent your arms dramatically in the other direction to overcorrect.

melissa's arm bumped into yours, sending your controller flying out of your hands.

"hey!" you said, thinking she was cheating.

"hey yourself," she said, her eyes still fixed on the screen.

if she was gonna play dirty, so were you. you thrust your arm forward to grab her controller. but she saw you coming from a mile away. effortlessly, she shifted the controller into her left hand alone and held it up and out of your reach.

desperately competitive (and stupid high), you launched yourself toward the controller. you'd stop at nothing to get even. before you could snatch it out of her grasp, though, your balance faltered. you fell out of your position and started to fall backwards off the couch.

melissa dropped the controller and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you back up before you could hurt yourself. there was only one problem with this heroic act.

you were in her lap now.

her hands remained clasped at the small of your back, and your balance shifted forward. you put your arms out for stability, and wrapped them around her neck.

"careful, don't hurt your pretty head," melissa cooed. the two of you stared at each other for a moment. she surged forward and pressed her lips to yours.

if sitting outside with her felt like floating, kissing her and feeling her body against yours felt like riding the ocean waves. but unlike the atlantic, she was warm. you relaxed into her warmth as her tongue licked into your mouth.

you felt her tongue everywhere. in response to her, you gave a few tentative kitten licks. she moaned, she moaned, and pulled back before giving you one last kiss on the lips.

she stared at you with heated eyes for a while before switching her focus to the tv.

"look, baby," she said smugly while gesturing to the tv screen, where luigi was driving victory laps after placing first on rainbow road. "i won. you remember what that means?"

it was a fair question, considering how many conversations you forgot happened tonight. still, you nodded shyly and bit your lip.

"smart girl," melissa praised. "can you guess what i want from you?"

you shook your head no with a frown. melissa beamed and kissed you on the forehead. then she leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"i wanna touch you everywhere. i wanna hear your pretty voice moan my name and see your face scrunch up when you come. i want you to feel me all over you, and i want you to spend the rest of your life craving that feeling," melissa said her piece all at once, as if revealing a long-buried secret to you and herself.

you swallowed.

"would you let me do that?"

you nodded, pressing your forehead against hers.

"i need to hear you say it," she said softly, so softly you almost missed it.

"i want you, melissa. i have since the day we met."

that was all the confirmation melissa needed to attack your face and neck with kisses.

"sorry, let me just," melissa said as she pulled away abruptly and reached for the tv remote. she changed it to cable mode and navigated to the jazz music channel. "there we go, perfect."

"you're ridiculous," you giggled upon seeing melissa's proud face.

"honey," she leaned in to nip at your ear before whispering, "watch your mouth. you wanna be on my good side tonight, trust me."

you shuddered and wiggled in her lap, aching for her touch. a slow grin spread across her face and her hands found your legs, running up your thighs and lightly dragging her nails along your skin. they soon made their way up your waist to your breasts, cupping and squeezing them. melissa even took two fingernails and circled your nipples teasingly, to which you squeaked.

"do you know how many times i thought about havin' you like this?" melissa whispered. her voice was sweet like molasses and flowed right through you. you could feel your nipples tingling where her fingers had been, swimming in a bubble of desire. "in my lap, all whiny and squirmy."

she pinched your nipple and you keened. you held your breath as her hands once again traveled to your thighs, making a beeline for your core.

"and now i got my angel in my arms," she said, gently spreading your legs for better access. you sucked in a breath and trembled when her palm caressed you through your panties. "but i gotta say, even in my imagination you were never this wet for me."

she punctuated the sentence by pressing her pointer finger on your clit through the fabric, drawing tiny circles. you gasped and hid your face in her neck. the high made every touch feel like it rippled through your whole body. the world felt like it had been knocked off its axis, and melissa was your new center of gravity.

"aw, don't be embarrassed, babygirl. it's cute you're so sensitive," melissa soothed, easing you out of the crook of her neck to face her again. she trailed her fingers down to swirl around your wetness under your panties. "let me take care of you, yeah?"

---

a few minutes later, you were spread out on melissa's bed, naked save for your (now useless) panties. she'd practically carried you to her room as you were baked and horny and unable to walk straight.

in spite of your writhing and needy whines, the redhead took her time to savor you. she kissed every inch of your torso before she even considered taking your panties off, mumbling sweet nothings between love bites.

when she finally pulled away to admire her work, the view did not disappoint. you were panting and covered in melissa's marks, and god, you were her favorite piece of art ever created. all hers.

"alright, sweet girl, i know," she cooed as you continued to plead for her touch with your best pout and puppy eyes. unable to resist you, melissa hooked two fingers in the waistband of your panties. "i'm gonna slip these off ya, okay? there, down they go."

melissa discreetly tucked the saturated material into her pocket. not as a trophy or proof of her conquest; rather, a token from the first of many magical nights with her girl. she would treasure it.

she wasted no time getting situated between your legs so she was face-to-face with your pussy. she inhaled deeply, basking in the heady aroma of your arousal. you overwhelmed her senses. everything she saw, everything she smelled, everything she felt, everything she thought—it was all one big, bottomless pool of you. and there was only one sense left for you to conquer.

the first drag of her tongue up your slit set you ablaze, flames licking from your core all the way to your extremities and your head. she let out a small noise of appreciation, and you felt it more than you heard it.

"you taste like fuckin' heaven," melissa rumbled between determined licks through your folds. her comment reminded you of the pizza, and you found yourself amused at how much things had changed in just a few hours.

"last-meal-on-death-row good?" you joked, and melissa seized the moment of levity to latch onto your clit. you cried out before remembering jacob was sleeping in the next room. you clapped a hand over your mouth.

"mhmmmmm," she moaned in agreement, and the vibrations on your bundle felt incredible. "but if you're still crackin' jokes, i'm not doin' my job."

with that, she shut you up completely. her tongue poked at your clit between harsh sucks. your back arched and melissa changed her strategy, prodding at your entrance with her tongue while her fingers took over on your clit. when her tongue penetrated you, you bit down on your hand to keep from screaming.

"i said i wanna hear you, remember?" melissa pulled out to chastise you.

"but jacob—" you managed.

"is passed out. he's dead to the world. now sing for me, angel," melissa's tongue dove back into your weeping cunt and lapped at your walls. you wailed her name.

"oh, mel, right—ahhh—there!" you mewled as her tongue teased your most sensitive spot. now that she'd located her target, melissa changed her play once again. two fingers replaced her tongue and crooked into your g-spot while her mouth returned to your clit. "close..."

melissa nodded her permission, her mouth busy with your button. with another hard roll of your clit between her lips and drive of her fingers into your sweet spot, you fell apart. you moaned and cried unbidden as she worked you through your orgasm, which felt twice as powerful thanks to the intoxication factor. your body shook in the grip of seemingly endless waves of heat.

your climax eventually died down and you squirmed away from melissa's touch. your mouth opened in dismay when instead of staying by your side, she stood up and disappeared into her closet.

after a short while, the older woman reappeared by your side. she was now nude and sporting a long, girthy strap-on. she placed a few other items on the nightstand, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the thick faux cock. unless it was to look at her gorgeous tits, which swung with her every move. she was a goddess.

"okay, sweets, i'm gonna spell this out nice and slow because i know your brain is a little messy right now," she said as she crawled on top of you. "i'm gonna fuck you with my strap. and i know it's so big, but i have this to help you take it."

melissa reached over to the nightstand and retrieved a green mini wand vibrator. her intentions were clear, and you gulped. the redhead peppered kisses all over your face in reassurance.

"now relax, little love. let me in," melissa instructed as the wand buzzed to life. she smeared your wetness around your clit with her fingers, then pulled back its hood to position the vibrator tightly against your nub. even the lowest setting was a shock at such a direct angle.

while you were distracted trying to adjust to the clitoral stimulation, melissa aligned the tip of the dildo with your entrance and pushed in. you both groaned, and you felt yourself stretch around the toy. melissa turned up the vibrations on your clit as she progressed to being fully seated inside you.

"that's a good girl, so brave," melissa cooed. you thrashed underneath her, the sensations overstimulating you. the pain of the intrusion staved off a powerful orgasm from the wand vibrator.

again, you wondered if the drugs were messing with your mind—the dildo felt indistinguishable from a part of mel's body, and you were full to the brim of her.

as she began to rock her hips back and forth, you saw her bite her lip. you assumed that the strap had some kind of clit attachment for her based on the telltale signs of pleasure.

melissa built up a steady rhythm and drank in your pathetic sounds of pleasure. her tits swung in your face with every thrust, and you made a mental note to give them proper attention next time. with another tactical increase to the wand's speed, you felt yourself approaching the edge once more.

"you gettin' close? yeah, i can tell. feels too good to hide it, huh bunny?" that was a new one. you clenched at her words and she set the wand to its maximum power, rubbing it up and down on your clit. your vision went white and you spun out of reality as you came. "that's my girl. good little princess, coming so hard for me."

with a few more thrusts, melissa also came to a release. she shuddered and shimmied her hips at random while she rode it out. as soon as she recovered, she turned off the green wand and relieved you. next, she eased herself out of and off of you.

with a chaste peck to your lips, she sat upright and reached for the nightstand. she smiled at your fucked-out expression as she laid out the pajamas she'd picked out for you.

you watched in awe as she took off the strap and put on her own sleep clothes. her red hair was wild from the night's activities and glowed like a warm hearth against the white backdrop of her walls.

in your state, you wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with melissa and fall asleep. but she insisted that you get ready for bed so that you'd be comfortable through the night. she guided you into the bathroom and gave you a new toothbrush to use.

returning to the bedroom, you found a silky green nightgown with flowers on it waiting on the bed for you. given your exhausted and intoxicated state, melissa had to help you into it. neither of you minded. as a reward for your cooperation, she gave you a kiss.

the two of you snuggled into bed, tucked in together with you curled up against her chest. the tides of slumber lapped at your feet.

"g'night, lovebug," melissa whispered as you drifted off. "sleep well. see you in the morning."

and tomorrow would be the first of a lifetime of tomorrows waking up in her arms.

[feralforfrank]

── EVERYTHING WILL BE JUST FINE.

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X FEM!READER

summary the aftermath of the mission that almost causes the loss of your life.

cw description of a panic attack (reader has one), canon codmw2 violence & mentions of it, feeeeeeelingssssss, hurt/comfort, atp mutual pining & idiots in love. NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER. TELL ME IF I MISSED ANYTHING!!!!

note some people asked for part two, sooooo!!! i delivered :)

1,5K | masterlist

When you opened your eyes, it was because of the horrid images that haunted your eyelids. You woke with a gasp and a ripple of pain spreading through your whole body. The room was dark and cold, but you felt the soft mattress underneath you begging to swallow your exhausted body. 

It all came to you slowly. The mission, the men trying to escape with your team's hidden car, you leaving your post and sneaking behind them, fighting them, and managing to get stabbed two times. The pain in your side was becoming more and more apparent now.

A flash of Ghost holding you in his arms makes you tense. He'd come to your rescue. Called you darling. Held you in his arms and reassured you that you'd be okay. You're fine. Nothing that can't be fixed. I can fix it.

Your heart fluttered, and your gaze blurred with tears. It wasn't right to have a crush on your superior, but you couldn't help yourself. Everything about Simon Riley fascinated you—from his continuous silences and intense glares to his very attractive build. You didn't need to see his face to know he was drop-dead gorgeous. The mask was one of the things that made Ghost even hotter. 

But it was wrong. Ghost's your lieutenant, your superior, and there was no way he'd ever feel the same way about you anyway. You doubt he could feel love sometimes. He cared for his team, that's for sure, but this line of work didn't allow deep and romantic sentiments. 

The jiggle of the door handle snapped you out of your thoughts. You jumped, causing your wounds to throb. A poorly contained whimper escaped your lips. Your heart sped up in fear, and your left hand tried to look for the knife strapped to your left thigh.

Fuck, it's not there. 

The silhouette slips in, and you swear your heart feels about to leap from your throat. A tear slides down your cheek as the man approaches your side. Shit, he's here to kill you. Finish you for what you did to his companions.

In your panicked haze and blurred gaze, you don't hear Simon calling your name. You see him set down a tray next to your head, and fuck—he's going to torture you first? Where the fuck is Ghost? Soap? Gaz? 

"K-Kyle?" You try, but your voice is hoarse and not as loud as intended.

Your gaze falls to the door, and you call Johnny's name. Then Simon's. You plead, but it's still not loud enough. More tears slide down your face, your ears ring, and your body shakes under the blanket.

"—ocus! Focus on me, Owl! You're safe here!" The man calls your name. "I'm not gonna hurt ya, darlin'."

Darlin'.

Darlin'. Darlin'!

Ghost.

And suddenly, the ringing in your ears subsides, and panic isn't bubbling hot in your blood. You feel his hands now, touching your bare shoulders—cold fingers touching scorching skin—shaking you to pull you out of your living nightmare.

"It's okay, lovie. S'alright. You're alright." He shushes you, sitting next to your feet.

"Help me up," you whisper.

Ghost reluctantly helps you sit up, gently touching your wrists. He towers over you to adjust the thin pillows on your back. Your gaze never leaves him. He's rid himself of the tactical vest, only wearing his tight-as-shit shirt, pants, and of course, his balaclava. Thank fuck, it's not the skull one. You melt at how he cares for you, despite you having fucked up the whole operation.

He grabs a bottle of water from the tray, and you have to remind yourself that it doesn't carry torture devices. The man in front of you is Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley, not the enemy. You gulp the water greedily like you've been walking in the desert under the scorching heat for hours.

"Want another one?" He asks. You shake your head.

There's a pause. The silence isn't tense but not comfortable. The nagging guilt—from both of you—holds you back from being truly open with each other. 

You should've never left your post. The team would've been able to escape without the car anyway. Your thoughts are never-ending.

Simon wants to punch himself. He shouldn't have had to carry you to the car. The guilt of letting you get hurt punctured a hole in his chest. 

A sniff brought him back. "I'm sorry."

He looks at you. Stares at you with those emotionless eyes, and you hate it. You hate that you can't guess what he's thinking. You'd fucked up that much is true.

"Fuck—" You hiccup and look away from him. "I didn't mean to. I panicked. I thought—I don't know what I thought. I'm sorry, Ghost, truly—"

"What're you sorry for?" His hard tone startles you.

You look at him, confused more than ever. "I fucked up the mission. Got hurt in the process too. We would've been in base by now had it not been for my fuck-up."

"You protected the team."

"No, I put my team and this mission in jeopardy."

"You took care of a threat, Sargeant." His tone was final. "You did your job. Greatly."

You inhale deeply, your eyes meeting Simon's. His gaze is like stone, but you can see the glint of pride he has for you.

"I was so scared." Fuck you for tearing up again. You felt weak.

You look down at your hands. The light slipping through the open door allows you to see the dark colour they have. Your blood—God, you hope it's yours—stains your palms and reaches up to your wrists.

"I told you I'd fix it," Simon says, and you melt at his words. "Fixed you up pretty good, all things considered." 

It makes you laugh. The timing isn't great, but the chuckle escapes before you can stop it.

"Thank you, Ghost. I owe you big time."

He shakes his head. "Don't mention it. I'm your Lt. I'm supposed to keep you safe and alive."

Lt. 

I'm your Lt.

It stings. You want him to call you darling and lovie again. You purse your lips and nod your head, feeling awkward thinking such thoughts with him present.

"Thank you." You pause, looking for something to ask Ghost—so he doesn't leave. You can't be alone right now. "Where are we?"

"Deep in the woods. They can't find us here."

Pursing your lips, you nod, feeling relieved. The silence returns, and Ghost exhales. "That's soup and meds for the pain. Not much, though. I don't want you passing out."

He stands to leave, and you jump, completely forgetting about the stitched wounds. "Where are you going?" Simon stills at the fear in your voice.

"Leaving?"

It comes out as a question—not what he'd intended. He was fighting the urge to show you how scared he'd been—and still is—after almost having you dead in his arms. The sentimental feelings toward you are growing stronger every second he spends with you, and it's dangerous. He has to stop permitting himself to feel. To hope that one day you'll feel the same for him. God, he feels like a teenager just thinking these thoughts.

But how can he not hope? When you look at him with wide, terrified eyes, swimming in unshed tears. When you're gripping the bowl of soup, he made carefully just for you, silently pleading with him to sit a tad bit longer.

He can see your lips tremble, but you hide it well by pursing them. The words are on your tongue, but you can't bring yourself to ask him to stay because fuck. How much more can you ask from this man? He saved you, patched you up, made you food, and now you wanted him to stay, purely out of fear. It's embarrassing to request this, especially in your line of work.

So, Simon decides to do it for you. "Unless you want me to stay?"

Your expression is shocked, but you eagerly nod before he can change his mind. You scooch to make room for his big frame on the small bed, and he actually manages to lay next to you, a hand draped on the bedframe to pull you closer.

You feel safe. Simon tends to make people feel this way. It's not only his large frame but how he carries himself and shows affection to the people he cares about. It doesn't matter if you talk or stay silent—he prefers silence—Ghost's presence is relaxing enough for you to eat your soup and drink your meds.

And when you finish, he grabs the bowl and places it next to him. When you start to drift off and snuggle closer to steal his warmth, he forces his tense shoulders to loosen and pulls you closer. He kisses the top of your head, and your hair tickles his cold nose even through his balaclava.

He knows his back will ache from the uncomfortable position he's sitting in, but he doesn't care because you're alive. Alive and safe. In his arms. And it's all that matters right now.

[tojisun]

cw: builds up to dubcon

kyle is sooo possessive of his partner; hulking like a shadow, never a step away – yes, but also the little things.

he asks if he can help you dress up today, and chooses somethings from your closet. some of them are bought by him, some by you, but it’s the principle that puts the beast lurking at the back of his mind at bay. it’s the knowledge – the experience that you two shared there, on your room, in front of your closet – that he holds close. and when the boys tell you that you look beautiful, when they jokingly ask you to give them a twirl, when johnny runs a hand along your sleeves because that’s one beautiful cardigan, kyle won’t even hold back his smile because he did that. what you have on right now is something he’s chosen, and to see you proudly wear it is just so good to him. the principle is what matters.

until even that isn’t enough.

then it’s the monitoring; the tracking devices. then the questions, the suggestions, the clinginess. thing is, kyle frames it differently. he posits it carefully because he is smart and experienced. he offers you half truths – his life is always going to be so vulnerable because of his job, and there will eventually come a time when he has to leave for longer periods for an operation, so this desire he shows you is means of comfort for him – all the while shielding the murky reality that kyle will do, and has done, everything to keep you close. closer.

and of course he is your boyfriend, the one who’s always been there whenever you needed to have someone in your corner. the one who knows what to do for you even without you having to communicate it. the one who just understands you. so of course you take it all in, accepting it with soft palms and a beating heart, because you have never met a man as attentive. as… loving.

(there is a reason why price had warned ghost of garrick – the worst of us, one day, he said. there’s something dark in him and being here – price nodded to where garrick and mactavish were debriefing – just helped hone that. gave him the space he needed to unleash it.)

[dolcettamagica]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞

gangleader!sukuna x reader, modern au

tags: possessive & obsessive sukuna, choking, lowkey stalking translations: piccola - little one/baby notes: listen to "salvatore" by lana del rey wc: 1.7k

In the dimly lit underbelly of the city, where shadows whispered secrets and alleys told tales of violence, there existed a figure feared and revered in equal measure: Sukuna Ryomen, the enigmatic leader of the most dangerous gang. His name struck terror into the hearts of those who dared oppose him, while his charisma drew countless souls into his fold.

Sukuna was a man who commanded respect without uttering a word. His mere presence exuded power, his icy gaze capable of silencing even the boldest of adversaries. With a network spanning the city's underworld, he held dominion over illicit trades, clandestine operations, and the very pulse of criminal activity.

Yet, amidst the chaos and the conquests, there was one enigma that eluded Sukuna’s grasp: a woman whose allure ignited a fire within him. You, a mysterious beauty with a spirit as untamed as the flames dancing in the night. You moved with a grace that defied the chaos around you, a silent tempest in the midst of the storm.

From the moment Sukuna laid eyes on you, he knew you were unlike any other. You were not bound by the rules of his world, nor swayed by the promises of power and wealth. Instead, you remained an enigmatic force, unyielding and unattainable.

Driven by an insatiable desire, Sukuna sought to possess you, to unravel the mysteries that shrouded your existence. He offered you riches beyond measure, a throne by his side where you could rule the underworld together. Yet, each offer was met with a gentle refusal, as you remained steadfast in your independence.

Frustration festered within Sukuna's heart, a tempest of emotions that threatened to consume him whole. He was a man accustomed to getting what he desired, yet you remained beyond his reach, a tantalizing mirage in the desert of his ambitions.

Despite his best efforts to suppress the yearning that gnawed at his soul, Sukuna found himself inexorably drawn to you, like a moth to the flame. He watched from the shadows as you moved through the city, a silent guardian cloaked in mystery.

In the depths of the night, when the city slumbered and dreams took flight, Sukuna found himself haunted by visions of your captivating gaze. You were the one anomaly in his meticulously crafted world, the one puzzle he could not solve.

And so, amidst the chaos and the conquests, Sukuna Ryomen, a formidable leader, found himself ensnared by the one thing he could not possess: the heart of a woman who danced beyond his reach, a forbidden desire that burned brighter than any flame in the darkness.

In the depths of his lavish office, Sukuna sat with unwavering determination, his gaze fixed on the phone before him. His frustration simmered beneath the surface, a molten rage that threatened to erupt at any moment. With a swift motion, he seized the device, his fingers dancing across the screen with a commanding presence.

"Where are you, piccola?" he typed, each word a declaration of his unwavering dominance. "You cannot hide from me forever. I will find you, and when I do, you will answer to me."

There was no room for hesitation in Sukuna's messages, no trace of the desperation that had once plagued him. Instead, his words dripped with authority, each message a demand for her submission.

"Do not test my patience" he continued, his tone brooking no defiance. "You belong to me, and you will come to me willingly. There is no escape from my grasp."

With each message sent, Sukuna's resolve hardened, his determination driving him forward with unrelenting force. He would not be denied what was rightfully his, not by anyone, especially not by a woman who dared to defy him.

"Tell me where you are," he commanded, "I will not ask again."

But still, there was no response, no sign of surrender. Anger flared within Sukuna's chest, a wildfire of fury that threatened to consume him whole.

"If you think you can hide from me, you are sorely mistaken," his words a warning laced with venom. "I will tear this world apart to find you, and when I do, you will regret ever crossing me, piccola."

With a final message sent, Sukuna leaned back in his chair, his eyes burning with a fierce determination. He would not rest until you were in his grasp, until you bowed before him in submission. For in Sukuna Ryomen's world, there was no room for defiance, only dominance and control. And he would have it all, no matter the cost.

As Sukuna's fingers hovered over the screen, poised to send yet another commanding message, the door to his office swung open with a forceful creak. In strode one of his most trusted lieutenants, a figure cloaked in shadows and whispers, bearing news that ignited a spark of hope within Sukuna’s hardened heart.

"Boss," the subordinate – Toji – began, his voice low and deferential, "we've received word. She... she's in Miami."

The words hung heavy in the air, a tantalizing promise of victory amidst the tumultuous storm of Sukuna's emotions. Without a moment's hesitation, he rose from his seat, his movements swift and decisive.

"Prepare the jet," he commanded, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. "We leave immediately."

There was a sense of urgency in Sukuna’s tone, a hunger that burned brighter with each passing second. Miami beckoned like a siren's call, its neon-lit – ruby, blue and green, neon too – streets promising the chance to reclaim what was rightfully his.

As his subordinates scrambled to fulfill his orders, Sukuna's mind raced with thoughts of the woman who had eluded him for far too long. He could almost taste the sweet victory that lay within his grasp, the moment when you would finally bend to his will.

With a steely resolve and a heart set ablaze with determination, Sukuna embarked on his journey to Miami, a man possessed by a singular purpose: to capture the one who dared to defy him and to assert his dominance once and for all.

The sun hung low on the horizon, casting its golden rays upon the pristine sands of the Miami beach. Among the throngs of sun-seekers, Sukuna strode with purpose, his eyes scanning the shoreline with a predatory intensity. And there, amidst the azure waves and the gentle sway of palm trees, he spotted you.

You laid upon the sand, a vision of beauty that stole the breath from Sukuna's lungs. Clad in a bikini that left little to the imagination, you exuded an aura of confidence that only served to fuel his desire. Your bronzed skin glowed beneath the sun's warm embrace, your tousled hair cascading like silk upon the sand.

With measured steps, Sukuna approached, his gaze never wavering from the woman who had haunted his every thought. He stood before you now, a towering figure clad in shadows and sinew, his presence commanding the attention of all who dared to gaze upon him.

"Piccola," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "You cannot hide from me forever."

There was a flicker of defiance in your eyes, a spark that ignited the flames of desire within Sukuna's chest. But he would not be deterred, not by your beauty nor by your resolve. He had come too far, fought too hard, to let you slip through his fingers once again.

"You belong to me," he declared, his words laced with a possessiveness that bordered on obsession. "And now, you will come with me."

But you remained unmoved, your gaze steady as you met his with a defiance that stirred something primal within him. You were a challenge, a tantalizing puzzle that begged to be solved, and Sukuna was more than willing to rise to the occasion.

“I was working on my tan, boss.”

"Working on your tan," he repeated, his voice betraying none of the turmoil raging within him. "In Miami, of all places."

There was a subtle tension in the air, a silent battle of wills as you and Sukuna locked gazes. Your defiance sparked a flicker of admiration within him, even as it fueled the flames of his frustration.

"Indeed," you replied, your tone cool and composed. "Is there a problem with that?"

Sukuna's jaw clenched, a silent testament to the storm of emotions swirling beneath his stoic facade. He had come too far, searched too long, to be met with such casual indifference.

"No problem," he finally replied, his voice a low growl. "But I must insist that you accompany me. We have unfinished business, you and I."

Your lips curved into a sardonic smile, a glimmer of amusement dancing in your eyes. "I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific, boss. I have many businesses, all of them quite finished."

Sukuna's patience wore thin, his frustration bubbling to the surface like molten lava. He had pursued you across oceans and continents, faced down countless adversaries in his quest to claim you as his own. And yet, she remained as elusive as ever, a tantalizing enigma that refused to be solved.

"Enough games, piccola," he snapped, his tone cutting through the air like a knife. "You cannot hide from me forever. Sooner or later, you will bend to my will."

The tension crackled between you like electricity as Sukuna's hand shot out, seizing you by the throat with a force that bordered on violence. His grip was firm, unyielding, a silent declaration of dominance that sent a shiver down your spine.

For a heartbeat, time seemed to stand still as you stood locked in a primal embrace, your gazes locked in a fierce battle of wills. But beneath the surface, a different kind of energy simmered—a raw, unbridled desire that pulsed between you like a current of electricity.

Your breath came in ragged gasps as Sukuna's grip tightened, his fingers leaving imprints on your skin like branding marks. And yet, there was no fear in your eyes, only a smoldering heat that mirrored his own.

With a low growl, Sukuna leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear with a tantalizing promise. "You cannot resist me, piccola," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "You were made for me, and you know it."

A shudder ran through your body as you felt the heat of Sukunas breath against your skin, your pulse racing with a heady mixture of fear and excitement. You knew that you were as drawn to him as he was to you—a dangerous truth that sent a thrill coursing through your veins.

“You will always belong to me.”

[ravenrothstr]

Me and You, and The Spaces In Between

summary. Y/N takes a long vacation after a heated argument with her boss. With her career hanging by a thread, she escapes to a peaceful getaway, where she unexpectedly meets Jaehyun, unaware of his identity.

genre. idol! au. work! au. fluff

words count. 18.0k

disclaimer. the story is fully fictional. other names mentioned are just for the story and pure imagination, with no bad intentions

tags. @apolloxxivmin

-- ˚˖𓍢ִ໋`🌿:✧˚.📷⋆𖧧 --

Every day, you drift through the same grey office building, slip into your usual seat, a quiet figure lost in the current of bustling lives. Your weight is invisible but suffocating—a relentless pressure that wraps around your chest and pulls your shoulders low. Surrounded by colleagues who hardly notice you, you feel like a ghost, an echo fading in a room with louder voices.

"Good morning, sir", you greeted your boss, Mr Noh.

Unanswered, unnoticed. Like always.

The hierarchy here is an unbreakable chain, with you at the very bottom. You feel it every day, every slight glance past you, every ignored idea, every task passed down without a thought. Numbed by the countless responsibilities that serve everyone else but you.

Each day feels the same as the last, blurring into a cycle that leaves you feeling less alive. Trapped within this silent existence, you wonder if you’ve forgotten how to hope.

"Y/N, meeting", Aeri reminded you.

And once again, it feels like you woke up on the wrong side of the bed when you hear your boss call you in privately to his office.

"We're giving you some time off."

"Pardon?"

You pause, recalling the tense moment with your manager, Mr. Han, when you submitted a proposal under your own name instead of his. The argument had been fierce—no one else in the company had ever been bold enough to stand up to him like that.

--

"You know how this company operates. It’s about hierarchy and respect. This isn’t a game, Y/N. You’re fortunate to even be here. You need to understand your place," Mr. Han said, his tone looking down on you.

Finally, you looked up to meet his gaze.

"Looks like you’re lucky too, Mr. Han. If we were recognizing talent, you’d be beneath me."

--

You were confused. Why would you be receiving time off? Were they suspending you for knowing your worth and finally pointing out the mistakes in the company?

"Y/N, I suggest you take a break for a month or two. We know working in this industry, especially for women, can be challenging, with emotions and all."

Your heart sank. You understood what he meant, even if he avoided the term. You walked back to your desk to pack up your things as your coworkers began to whisper around you. You tried your best to swallow the situation, but you couldn’t help catching Mr Han out of the corner of your eye—perfectly sitting at his desk, leaning back in his chair, unsuspended and free of any disciplinary action.

What a world we live in.

--

As you walk home, your heart begins to shatter. No one ever warned you about being an adult when you were a kid. All the stories summed up life with nice things—love, happiness, hope.

Hope.

Something you haven’t felt in a long time.

The next day feels strangely different as if the world has shifted ever so slightly in the light of dawn. You’ve cried the whole night, the weight of everything finally breaking through the dam you had built within.

As the first rays of sunlight peek through your window, you reach for your laptop. The familiar device now feels like a portal to the past. You pull up old photos as a wave of nostalgia washes over you. They’re snapshots of a time when life felt more colourful, the world more open.

"I was so happy, everything was brighter", you thought to yourself.

You can almost hear the laughter and feel the warmth of those sunlit moments. You remember the promise you once made to yourself: “I’ll capture whatever makes me happy.” It was your goal, your way of finding beauty in the everyday.

As you linger on a particularly beautiful shot, quiet determination begins to bloom in your chest. In that fleeting moment of clarity, you realize what you truly need: to escape, to break free from the chains that have held you down for far too long, and to reclaim the part of yourself that has been lost in the shadows.

--

“Jeju? What’s with the random trip?” Aeri’s voice crackled through the phone as you made the call after arriving at Jeju Airport.

You paused at her response, recalling the dark moments you had faced recently. You longed to tell her how you felt like you were dying inside, but now wasn’t the time.

“Well, it’s a long story,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light, though a hint of weariness slipped through. Aeri hesitated on the other end, sensing something was off.

“Are you okay, Y/N? You sound… different.”

You glanced around the busy airport, considering her concern.

“I’ll talk about it later,” you said finally, trying to sound reassuring. “I just need some time to clear my head.”

Aeri sighed, still worried. “Alright, but take care of yourself, okay? And call me if you need anything. I’ll be here.”

“Thanks, Aeri,” you said softly.

With that, you hung up and slipped your phone back into your bag. As you stepped out of the airport, a sense of relief washed over you. Jeju was beautiful, even under the cloak of night. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling lighter already. This was exactly what you needed—a place far removed from all the chaos.

--

After checking in at your hotel, you were eager to explore, despite the late hour. Spotting a nearby bike rental station, you quickly rented one, excitement bubbling inside you as you anticipated soaking in the atmosphere of Jeju at night.

Pedalling along the quiet streets, the cool night air, and the gentle sound of waves crashing in the distance created a soothing backdrop. The moon casted a silvery light that danced on the water. You felt a surge of freedom as you rode, each pedal pushing you further away from the chaos of your life.

"Please, just let time stop. Just for a moment," you thought as you pedaled, enjoying the peacefulness around you.

But then, as you turned a corner, disaster struck. You didn’t see the other bike until it was too late, and with a loud clunk, you collided, sending both of you off balance. You stumbled to a stop, heart racing, and looked up to see a young man—his surprised expression mirroring your own.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry!” you exclaimed, rushing to check if he was alright.

He brushed himself off, standing tall with a sharp glare. His features were striking, and you could sense his annoyance, though he didn’t seem to want to dwell on it. As you both steadied your bikes, you felt the tension in the air.

“I didn’t mean to ruin your ride,” you said, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I’m really sorry. It was an accident.”

He sighed, his frustration still evident, but he seemed to be reining it in.

“Just… be careful next time,” he muttered, adjusting his bike before giving you one last look and riding off into the night.

You stood there, watching him go, your initial embarrassment shifting to frustration. This definitely wasn’t how you had pictured starting your trip. Just when you thought the encounter was over, fate had other plans.

--

The next morning, you wandered down to the hotel’s cozy café for breakfast. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the scent of warm pastries. You settled at a small table near the open terrace, enjoying the view of the sun rising over the horizon.

You began to take out your new film camera, a camera you had once promised yourself you would fill with happy encounters, but that promise had fallen by the wayside as you drowned yourself in work. Struggling to get a grip on how it functioned, you started to look through the settings when a figure walked past your table.

It was him—the guy from last night. He sat down at his own table, and as soon as he caught sight of you, he rolled his eyes dramatically, as if to say not you again. Your stomach twisted slightly, but you decided to ignore him, focusing instead on your camera.

After finishing your meal, you grabbed your camera and stepped outside, eager to immerse yourself in the beauty of Jeju. The streets were alive with colour, and you began to capture the scenes around you—lush greenery, quaint shops, and the stunning coastline.

You wandered through the local market, snapping photos of the bustling vendors and their vibrant displays of fresh produce and handmade goods. Your heart lifted with each click of the shutter, the camera becoming an extension of your desire to find joy in the small things.

As you moved deeper into the market, you caught sight of him again. He was at a stall, inspecting some fruit. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that you didn’t need to let his presence affect your mood. Instead, you focused on capturing the essence of the market, the lively interactions, and the warmth of the people around you.

But the moment you turned your camera towards the stall he was at, he noticed you. You could see his annoyance as he shot you an incredulous look, clearly irritated that you were taking pictures in the same space. He waved his hand dismissively as if trying to shoo you away.

This time, you couldn’t help but smirk. You weren’t about to let his irritation spoil your experience. You continued to film, zooming in on the vibrant colors and lively atmosphere, reveling in your newfound freedom.

You decided to embrace the moment, letting the world around you inspire you rather than letting him dampen your spirits. It was a new day, and you were determined to make the most of it—no matter who else was in the frame.

With the sun beginning to set, casting a warm golden hue over Jeju, you decided to call it a day. You returned to your hotel room, feeling a sense of fulfilment from capturing the beauty of the island. As you entered the room, the familiar buzz of your phone interrupted your thoughts. It was your mom calling.

“Y/N! Where have you been? You need to come back home!” she scolded, her voice a mix of worry and frustration.

You close your shut eyes for a moment, wishing the situation was just a dream.

“Mom, I’m on vacation. I told you I needed some time away,” you replied, trying to keep your tone steady.

“Time away? This isn’t just a vacation! You’re running from your responsibilities! You think it’s okay to just leave everything behind?” Her words felt like a punch to the gut.

“I’m not running away. I just need a break to think,” you protested, your frustration bubbling over. “I can’t deal with everything right now.”

“You think you can just ignore your responsibilities? Your brother needs support, and you should be helping your family, not gallivanting around Jeju!” she snapped.

You clenched your fists, tears filling up your eyes resulting to you trying to suppress the anger rising within you as you ended the call. Everything felt like a mess now, and you didn’t need any additions to that.

You wanted to cry; you needed to cry.

You began to look around your room, searching for an escape. Grabbing your film camera, you decided to take a walk along the beach.

You gazed out at the vast, dark sea, wishing your life could be as calm as the ocean before you. With each soft crash, you felt your sadness slowly wash away, like footprints disappearing under the water. For a good ten minutes, you stood there, breathing deeply, letting the steady hum of the sea drown out the noise in your mind.

When you finally opened your eyes, the world felt lighter, your heart less heavy. You wiped away the last tears, determined to hide any evidence of your pain. With your camera ready, you prepared to capture this peaceful moment you wanted to hold onto.

But just as you were about to take the shot, you spotted him—the man you had bumped into earlier. You sighed, thinking, of all the places. You weren’t in the mood for another encounter.

“I knew it, you were one of them,” he said.

You tried to ignore him; you had no energy to argue.

“I’m calling the cops on you.”

“Great,” you replied, sarcasm lacing your voice.

--

“She’s a sasaeng,” the man stated, crossing his arms. “She keeps following me around, and I want to file a report.”

You felt a wave of disbelief wash over you. You both found yourselves at the police station, the atmosphere tense and awkward. He stood confidently at the desk, explaining his version of events to the officer, who listened with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t even know you or your name. Sir, this is ridiculous,” you said.

The officer glanced between the two of you, clearly intrigued by the unfolding drama. But it was hard to believe you didn’t know him; you seemed genuine yet utterly uninterested in Jaehyun, a very famous idol.

“So, you’re saying you don’t know him?”

“Yes! I only bumped into him a few times. How does that make me a stalker?”

Jaehyun rolled his eyes. “Why are you so defensive? You’re the one who keeps showing up wherever I am.”

“I’ll just remind you that we’re on a small island,” you shot back, but the officer interrupted.

“Okay, let’s settle down. Ma’am, can you provide your name and occupation?”

You opened your mouth, ready to say, “I’m an accountant at—” but then it hit you like a cold wave. You weren't an accountant anymore; you had been suspended from your job. The reality of your situation dawned on you, and suddenly, you felt lost.

You froze in the moment, a flood of emotions swirling inside you. Who were you without your job? Had you tied solely to your work? Did you even know what you liked or disliked anymore?

With a heavy heart, you looked up at the officer, and instead of your title, you simply stated.

“Just write Y/N, unemployed.”

Jaehyun raised an eyebrow, and for the first time, his irritation seemed to fade slightly. Maybe you weren’t really a stalker; you were just here for peace of mind like he was.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself to explain your side, but a part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were no longer the person you once claimed to be.

The incident ended with the officer clarifying that you were not a stalker, emphasizing that it was simply a misunderstanding. Jaehyun also acknowledged that you genuinely didn’t know who he was.

Ultimately, the officer concluded that both of you should avoid each other to prevent any further distress.

As you both stepped away from the desk, the tension began to dissipate. Outside, the cold evening air brushed against your skin, and an unexpected silence hung between you for a brief moment.

“I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” Jaehyun said, his tone more conciliatory now. “It’s just… it’s hard to escape from all this sometimes.”

“Tell me about it,” you replied, letting your guard down for the first time.

He exhaled, rubbing his neck. “Look, I’m sorry. My group’s been through a lot, and trusting strangers doesn’t come easy anymore.”

“Your group… NCT?”

His expression softened, pride flickering in his eyes. “Yeah, that’s us.”

You nodded, your gaze lingering. “I get it. Caution makes sense.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you murmured.

His eyes stayed on you, gentler now as the cool night wind tousled your hair, and for a quiet, heart-stopping moment, he just looked at you.

A small smile broke across his face. “No hard feelings.”

--

The night air was calm as you fell into step beside each other, walking back toward the hotel. The silence was surprisingly comfortable, but you couldn't calm down your emotions.

Somewhere in the ease, you felt tears gather in your eyes and Jaehyun was quick to sense it as you turned your head towards the sea to avoid him.

“So…” Jaehyun began, hoping to distract you. “What brings you here, then? To Jeju?”

Quickly, you brushed away the tears on your cheek and looked up at him.

“Just… a short escape,” your voice soft and unsteady. “Work, life… everything started feeling like too much.” He listened intently, his gaze steady, as if inviting you to say more.

“I felt like I was drowning. Coming here was supposed to be my chance to breathe again. And then… well, then you happened,” you added with a faint, self-conscious smile.

A warm chuckle escaped him as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess I ruined that, didn’t I?”

“Maybe just a little,” you teased, your smile widening as you caught his gaze. “But I suppose I can forgive you. I must have ruined yours too.”

He shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. “It’s alright. A night walk by the ocean seems like a pretty good way to make it up.”

You both smiled, the soft night air carrying a quiet understanding between you. A gentle breeze swept over, and he looked up at the stars, his hands in his pockets.

“You know… after so long being on stage and in front of crowds, it’s strange to be away from it all. I don’t think I’ve ever really had a chance to just… breathe. I thought I wanted this break, but now…” His voice drifted off, hesitant, as though he feared where his words might lead.

“But now?” you asked softly, inviting him to continue.

He looked at you, a vulnerability in his gaze you hadn’t seen before. “Now, I’m not even sure who I am without all of that.”

His words hung in the quiet night, and in that moment, you saw Jaehyun not as an idol but as someone searching, just like you. And suddenly, it struck you—you weren’t alone in your own struggles.

“Maybe that’s okay. Life is about figuring it out the next day-”

“After all, this is our first time living.”

His gaze softened as if the simple gesture meant more than either of you were prepared to admit. By the time you reached the hotel, the conversation had lulled into a quiet, companionable silence.

You both moved towards the elevator, standing side by side in silence. As the doors slid open, Jaehyun stepped in first, holding the door for you.

“Thanks,” you murmured, taking a step inside.

After pressing your respective floors, the elevator hummed softly as it ascended. Jaehyun glanced over at you, but you seemed lost in thought.

“Look, about earlier…” he started, unsure of how to continue, but you interrupted.

“I don’t want to make this a big deal. Let’s just keep our distance and enjoy our vacations.”

“Sure,” he replied, a bit reluctantly.

As the elevator came to a stop, the doors opened, and you stepped out, leaving a lingering tension in the air as you both went your separate ways, still unsure of what this unexpected connection meant moving forward.

--

The next morning, Jaehyun strolled down to the hotel dining area for breakfast, feeling a mix of anticipation and apprehension. As he scanned the room, he spotted you at a table in the corner, engrossed in your iPad. You seemed to be in your own world, occasionally glancing up as if lost in thought.

He hesitated for a moment, debating whether to approach you or not. Just then, you looked up and caught his gaze. A flicker of recognition crossed your face, and for a brief moment, it looked like he was about to smile. But then, you quickly stood up, gathering your things.

“Hey, it’s okay. I was just about to leave,” you said, attempting to keep your tone light.

There was an edge of awkwardness in your voice. You didn't want to impose on his space, especially after the previous night's tension.

“Wait, you don’t have to go,” he said, his words felt like they were lost in the air. Jaehyun’s heart sank as he watched you stand up.

"It's okay, I was finished anyway"

“Really, it’s fine,” he insisted, trying to sound convincing, but the sincerity in his voice didn’t seem to reach you.

As you walked away, Jaehyun’s quiet presence lingered in your mind as you stepped away, clutching your phone. Every ring from Mr Han felt like a reminder of all you’d been trying to escape from, of the life you’d left behind for a few days in search of peace. You quickly find a quiet corner where you can take the call.

“Mr. Han, I—” you started, trying to find the right words, but the frustration in your former boss’s voice cut through the line.

“Y/N, you really need to get back to me. The client is waiting!”

Heat rose in your cheeks as you tried to stay calm. “I understand, but I’m not in a position to help right now as I—” The anxiety surged, your breath growing shallow.

You couldn’t finish your sentence. Gripping the wall beside you for support, you closed your eyes, your breathing ragged as you struggled to keep yourself steady. Feeling you could drown from your cold sweats. With shaking hands, you ended the call, unable to continue.

The pressure of everything—the job you’d left, the life you’d momentarily escaped—felt like a weight pressing down. You barely noticed when you turned, and there he was, standing close, his gaze soft and filled with worry.

“Y/N?” Jaehyun’s voice was a quiet thread of concern woven into each syllable. “Are you alright?”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of everything crash down on you. The distance between you and Jaehyun felt insurmountable, but the urge to lean on him was overwhelming.

“Yes… I’m okay. I’m just trying to find balance,” you said, your voice trembling.

“Y/N, you need more than that,” he insisted.

He guided you to a nearby bench, the quiet warmth of his hand on your shoulder grounding you.

“You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to,” he said softly. “Just… breathe. Let’s sit for a minute".

For a moment, you just sat there, grateful for his quiet support.

“Thank you, Jaehyun,” you murmured, overwhelmed by his kindness.

“I’m just doing what anyone would,” he said softly, studying your face. “Are you okay now? You know, it’s alright to take a break.”

“I wish it were that easy,” you admitted, the frustration heavy in your voice.

Before you could collect your thoughts, your phone buzzed again. Another message from Mr. Han. You glanced at Jaehyun, and he looked at you with sympathy, silently acknowledging the struggle you were facing.

“I don’t think you should answer that,” he said gently.

“It’s just work. I should deal with this,” you said reluctantly, the thought of the conversation ahead making your stomach twist.

Before you took the call, you glanced at Jaehyun, fear flickering in your eyes. He offered you a reassuring smile.

“I'll be here,” he said softly.

With a heavy heart, you stepped back, torn between the connection you craved and the unrelenting demands of your reality.

--

You both walked to a small café along the coast. The atmosphere was quiet and cozy, the gentle hum of soft music wrapping around you like a warm blanket. Jaehyun went to order for both of you, reminding you of the moment he suggested it when you slipped your phone back into your pocket.

“How about we grab some coffee?” he had said, his tone warm and inviting

When he returned to the table with two steaming cups, you took a moment to really look at him. How gentle and kind he was towards you softened your heart. How lucky he loved once to receive such affirmation. His fingers linger on yours as he passes you your drink.

"Thanks", you murmured.

The silences between you are like the soft pattern of rain outside. It was as if the calmness of the café had created a peaceful bubble that allowed both of you to just be. No words were needed, just the quiet company of each other and the warmth of your coffee. After a while, you took a deep breath and broke the silence.

"Jaehyun," you started, your voice soft, your eyes still trained on the rain outside. "I’m sorry. I'm sorry about last night, about this morning-"

He looked at you, but you couldn’t meet his gaze just yet.

"I didn’t mean to cause a scene or make things uncomfortable. I'm just… not handling things well. I was so overwhelmed."

Jaehyun’s brow furrowed slightly, but he remained quiet, waiting for you to continue.

"I guess what I’m trying to say is," you hesitated, finally turning to face him, "I want to repay you for stepping in, for making sure I was okay. You didn’t have to, but you did, and I really appreciate it."

You gestured toward your plate. "So, I’m paying for this. Consider it my way of saying thank you."

"You don’t have to repay me, Y/N. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

"But I want to," you insisted, your eyes practically pleading. "Let me do this, okay?"

Jaehyun chuckled softly, holding your gaze. "Alright, I won’t argue with free coffee."

Relief washed over you as a smile finally tugged at your lips, and he smiled back, the warmth in his eyes making everything feel lighter, easier.

"Finally," he thought to himself, glad to see your walls slowly coming down.

You and Jaehyun stepped outside the café, and the fresh scent of rain on the pavement lingered in the air. As you linger on the ambience Jaehyun notices you taking out your film camera, but you seem to struggle as you try to adjust the camera.

Jaehyun, noticing his uncertainty, tilted his head with a curious smile. "Need some help with that?"

"Yeah, I’m still getting the hang of it. Do you…?"

Without a word, he stepped closer, gently taking the camera from his hands.

"Here, I’ll show you," he said.

His fingers brushed against yours as you adjusted the settings, and you couldn’t help but feel a small flutter in your chest.

You bring the camera up to eye level as you point it toward a bright red umbrella left forgotten near the edge of a shop.

"How about something that stands out but blends in with the mood of the scene? Like that umbrella there,"

You handed the camera back to you, guiding your hands to the right angle as he stood close behind you. His presence was calming but you couldn't help feeling a tangled in your stomach.

"Focus on that,"

You took a deep breath, following his advice, and snapped the shot. The sound of the shutter felt satisfying, and as you glanced down at the preview, a small sense of accomplishment swelled in you.

"Perfect, you’ve got a good eye for this."

"You should seen my mentor," you teased, your smile widening.

He grinned, stepping back slightly, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he turned back toward the rainy street.

"Want to take a few more? There’s plenty of stories out here, especially in the rain."

For the rest of the afternoon, the two of you wandered the quiet streets of Jeju, capturing fleeting moments—a woman pulling her scarf tighter against the breeze, raindrops collecting on a parked bicycle, and an old couple sharing an umbrella. Each moment shared between you and Jaehyun felt easy, and natural, like the rhythm of the rain.

--

You both held ice cream cones as you settled on a bench near the shore. The sun peeked through the clouds, casting a soft glow as you savored each delicious bite. Just as you took another lick of your ice cream, the clouds grew dark, and drops of rain began to fall.

“Jaehyun, we need to run!” you exclaimed cheerfully, quickly covering your ice cream with your hands.

In a rush, you both sprinted to a nearby market, trying your best to stay shaded under the roof outside. You could feel his laughter vibrating in the air as you both struggled to keep your ice cream cones from getting drenched.

As you continued to finish your ice cream, savoring the sweet flavor, you turned your gaze back to the shoreline. The ocean's sound was soothing and calming despite the downpour, creating a scene that felt straight out of a movie. Just then, you stole a glance at Jaehyun.

His laughter was infectious, and the way he scrunched up his nose while trying to protect his treat made your heart flutter. It felt like you were falling into a deeper ocean, one filled with warmth and joy.

You pulled out your camera to capture the moment. The raindrops danced on the surface of the water, creating a mesmerizing pattern.

"Just for the memories," you thought.

Jaehyun turned to you, curiosity shining in his eyes.

“So, do you take pictures as a hobby or professionally?” he asked.

“Just a hobby, actually. I don't recall having any photogenic pictures in my album,” you replied, chuckling at the thought. "I just take what makes me happy,"

"But we just spent the day capturing random moments. Regardless, they're still really beautiful to me," he defended, his gaze sincere.

"Well, it was fun for me," you said, your smile widening.

Jaehyun's expression softened, and a bright smile spread across his face, illuminating his features even in the dim light of the rainy day. There was something disarming about the way he smiled, as if the world around you faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble.

His enthusiasm was infectious, and you couldn't help but feel a thrill at the thought of more days like this. For the first time in so long, you found yourself eagerly waiting for the next day. The rain continued to fall around you, but it only added to the magic of the moment, making everything feel fresh and alive.

"Do you think we'll ever meet again? Somewhere not here?" you asked, a hint of vulnerability creeping into your voice.

Jaehyun’s expression shifted, becoming more serious as he stared deeply into the rain.

“I hope so,” he said slowly, turning to face you. “I really wish we could get closer, even after this vacation is over," his gaze unwavering.

His sincerity wrapped around you like a warm embrace, and for a moment, the world outside the small market felt like a distant echo. You could see the longing in his eyes, a reflection of your own feelings. The connection you’d formed felt too precious to let slip away, despite the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

“I would like that too,” you admitted, your heart pounding in your chest.

--

As the days passed, your time together seemed to fly by, each moment filled with laughter and shared secrets. But all too soon, the end of your vacation arrived, and the reality of parting ways settled heavily in the air.

You found yourself standing outside the hotel, your suitcase at your feet, the familiar buzz of the bustling streets around you fading into a dull roar. Jaehyun stood a few feet away, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets, a contemplative expression clouding his features.

“Guess this is it, huh?” he said, attempting to sound light-hearted, but the weight of the moment hung heavily between you.

“Yeah, it feels surreal,” you replied, forcing a smile despite the tightness in your chest.

You had hoped that this moment wouldn’t come, that time would stretch on indefinitely, allowing you to hold on to the connection you had formed. He took a step closer, his eyes searching yours.

“I really enjoyed our time together. It was… different, in a good way. It was nice to be around someone who didn’t see me just as Jaehyun from NCT. You reminded me of what it’s like to just be… myself.””

You nodded, feeling a bittersweet tug at your heart. “I’m glad I met you. And, I’ll always remember this time.”

A silence enveloped you both, filled only by the distant sounds of laughter and traffic. As the moments stretched, you couldn’t help but feel a void beginning to form in your heart. It was a feeling you hadn’t anticipated, one that blossomed from the realization that you had fallen for him during this brief interlude in your lives.

Jaehyun shifted, his gaze dropping to the ground before meeting your eyes again. “Come see me at my concert sometime, let's meet again,” he said, his tone hopeful.

The offer hung in the air between you—simple, yet charged with unspoken meaning. You hesitated, caught between the desire to say yes and the reality of the busy life waiting for you back home.

“I’ll think about it,”

You both lingered in the moment, neither wanting to be the first to say goodbye. Eventually, Jaehyun glanced at his phone, a reminder of his own responsibilities tugging him back.

“Take care of yourself, Y/N,” he said, his voice gentle yet firm, as if he genuinely wanted you to find peace.

“You too, Jaehyun. Don’t lose yourself in all of it,” feeling a surge of protectiveness for him.

With a final smile, you watched as he disappeared into the bustling crowd, your chest heavy yet filled with a strange sense of hope. As you made your way to the airport, you found yourself holding on to the memories of Jeju—of sunlit days, stolen glances, and quiet conversations.

Back in your own world, things quickly resumed their usual pace. Work piled up, Mr. Han’s demands didn’t ease, and the familiar pressures of life weighed on your shoulders. But every so often, you’d catch yourself replaying moments from Jeju: Jaehyun’s smile, the way his laughter echoed along the shore, the quiet understanding that had passed between you.

--

"Ah, that was a super long meeting," you sighed, leaning back in your chair and closing your eyes.

"Tell me about it," Aeri replied from her desk, looking equally drained.

Just then, the secretary approached you, holding a note in her hand. "Y/N, someone left a message asking you to call them back."

You glanced up, confused, and exchanged a quick look with Aeri, hoping for some clue. But she looked just as surprised. Hesitantly, you dialled the number, feeling a surge of anxiety as the call connected.

"Hello?"

"Yes, is this Y/N?"

"Yes, this is Y/N speaking. Can I help you?"

"I'm a staff member from SM Entertainment. Jaehyun requested a direct invitation for you to his concert…" Your heart dropped, and every word became a blur after hearing Jaehyun’s name.

You quickly looked at the calendar. Had it really been months since your trip to Jeju? The staff member kindly repeated the message, explaining that Jaehyun had arranged a ticket and backstage pass for you.

"I'm… sorry, but could I get back to you on this?" you asked, still trying to process the unexpected invitation.

"Of course," they replied. "We'll leave your name on the VIP list. If you decide to come, just let the staff know at the VIP section."

You hung up, your mind racing. You never imagined Jaehyun would follow through on his promise, let alone make it so personal. As you stared at your phone, you couldn’t help but wonder if you were ready to step back into that world—or if you even wanted to.

That evening, you had dinner with Aeri, who was as cheerful and lighthearted as always. Watching her laugh, you couldn’t bring yourself to share your concerns about Jaehyun. Somehow, her happiness felt too precious to disturb. After a moment, you decided to break the silence.

"Hey, Aeri," you began, trying to keep your voice casual. "Do you know NCT?"

"Of course, who doesn’t!" she laughed, and you could feel your nerves creeping up. But then, she added with a casual shrug, "Besides, my boyfriend’s from that group."

Your jaw dropped. "Your boyfriend is an idol?!"

She quickly shushed you, almost flipping over the table to keep you from speaking too loudly. Glancing around the restaurant, she sighed and whispered, "Yes. I didn’t mean to hide it, or that I don’t trust you. It’s just… you know, we’re kind of friends from work, and I didn't want things to get complicated."

You smiled, absorbing the surprise. Somehow, knowing she understood the complexities of dating someone in the public eye made you feel a bit less alone in your own tangled thoughts about Jaehyun’s invitation.

As the days crept closer to the concert, you continued to hold it all in, the uncertainty gnawing at you. On the evening before, you finally took a deep breath and decided to invite Aeri along. You figured her presence might ease the nerves and make it all feel a bit more normal.

"Aeri," you said, and she responded with a distracted "Hm?" without lifting her gaze from her work, so you decided to keep it short.

"I, uh… I got an invite to the NCT concert. Would you want to come with me?"

Aeri’s eyes widened in surprise and excitement, her fingers pausing on the keyboard. "Are you serious? Of course! How did you even score an invite like that?"

“Just… something that came up, you know?” you shrugged, keeping it vague.

“It’s going to be amazing! I can’t believe we’re actually going to see them perform live!”

Her enthusiasm brought a smile to your face, and, for a moment, the tension in your chest eased. With Aeri beside you, maybe facing Jaehyun again wouldn’t feel so daunting after all.

--

The night of the concert arrived, and as you stood outside the venue with Aeri, you could feel your heart racing. The bustling crowd, glowing lights, and excited chatter filled the air with an electric energy. Aeri, practically buzzing beside you, squeezed your arm as you both made your way to the VIP entrance. Her excitement was contagious, and you felt a flicker of it yourself, though nerves twisted in your stomach as you thought of the reason behind your invitation.

Inside, the venue felt even more surreal. The rows of seats stretched out like a sea, and the stage glowed with anticipation as fans filled the room. Your VIP passes led you closer than you’d imagined, right near the front, and as you settled in, you felt Aeri’s hand in yours.

“Can you believe we’re this close?” she whispered, her eyes gleaming. “We’re about to see them, live!”

The lights dimmed, and a hush fell over the crowd, followed by a collective gasp as the stage illuminated, and NCT appeared. The opening beats hit, and the whole arena seemed to come alive as the members took their places, Jaehyun among them. Your eyes drifted to him, a mix of emotions stirring as he sang, danced, and commanded the stage effortlessly. In that moment, he looked entirely different from the man you’d spent time with on Jeju—a star in every sense.

Aeri was in her element, cheering along with the crowd, and you found yourself swept up in her excitement. The concert unfolded like a dream, each song weaving between moments of high energy and softer ballads that made the arena feel intimate. As you watched Jaehyun move across the stage, your mind flickered back to all the memories you’d shared, and a pang of nostalgia washed over you.

“Isn’t this amazing?” Aeri exclaimed during a brief interlude, her face glowing.

You nodded, forcing a smile, but your heart was conflicted. This night was as exhilarating as it was overwhelming, and as Jaehyun’s gaze swept over the audience, you wondered if he’d see you and recognize you in the crowd.

The concert came to a close with an eruption of applause and cheers, the room filled with the lingering energy of excitement. As the lights brightened, Aeri was practically bouncing beside you, her excitement escalating as you both made your way to the backstage entrance.

In the waiting room, NCT members were casually chatting after the high-energy performance. When you and Aeri entered, they greeted you warmly, and Aeri, in particular, seemed over the moon. She introduced herself and excitedly complimented the members, her enthusiasm making them all laugh.

“Hey! Thanks for coming!”, Taeyong greeted.

“Hi, thank you for having us,” you responded, a little overwhelmed by how down-to-earth they were despite their star status.

They were friendly and approachable, making small talk that felt genuine rather than forced. Then, you saw him—Jaehyun, standing at the far end of the room. He hadn’t noticed you at first, busy talking with another member, but when he turned and saw you, his expression softened instantly. His eyes met yours, and he broke into that familiar smile that had haunted your thoughts since Jeju.

“You actually came,” he said, his voice tinged with a hint of disbelief and relief.

“I didn’t think I would, honestly. But here I am”, feeling your nerves flutter. “Thanks for inviting me. It’s… surreal seeing you here.”

“I’m glad you came. Really,” Jaehyun replied, his voice sincere.

“We’re actually heading to an after-party at a club nearby. You both should come! It’ll be fun!”

Aeri’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm. “Oh my gosh, we have to go! It sounds amazing!”

You felt a wave of hesitation wash over you. The idea of a club after the concert seemed exhilarating yet overwhelming.

“I’m not sure,” you said, glancing at Jaehyun, who was watching you with a hopeful expression.

Jaehyun stepped closer, his demeanour reassuring. “You’ll be with us. It’ll be a good time, I promise. Just think of it as a celebration.”

You sighed, weighing the pros and cons. The thought of missing out on an opportunity to bond with Jaehyun and Aeri made your heart sink, but the thought of the club’s atmosphere sent your anxiety into overdrive. Finally, you agree relented.

The moment you stepped inside, a wave of culture shock hit you. The atmosphere was electric, pulsating with music and vibrant lights. It was everything you had imagined but somehow more overwhelming.

"Come, stay close to me", Jaehyun grabbing your hand.

You were glad for a moment, but as all of you made it to the couch women were swooning over Jaehyun. You felt a pang of discomfort watching the attention he received; it was overwhelming for you. You kept close to Aeri, who was revelling in the excitement.

“Look at them! They’re totally obsessed!” she laughed, pointing out the fans who crowded around Jaehyun, capturing every moment on their phones.

Jaehyun, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed by the attention. He mingled with ease, laughing and chatting while he would glance over at you occasionally.

You couldn’t help but feel lost. The club scene was so much different to your usual surroundings, and you were more aware than ever of the differences between your world and Jaehyun. As the night wore on, you tried to enjoy the night, but every laugh from the crowd felt like a reminder of your insecurities, and the joy you saw on Aeri’s face only made you feel more disconnected.

Jaehyun continued to glance your way, concern flickering across his features as he noticed your discomfort, but you couldn’t shake the feeling overwhelmed, you took a step back, needing a moment to breathe. The pulsating energy of the club felt too much, and you realized you weren’t really enjoying your time at all.

You glanced at Aeri, who was caught up in the moment, and your heart sank. You had hoped this would be a fun adventure, but instead, it was just a reminder of how far you felt from everything that was happening around you.

“Aeri, maybe we should head back? It’s getting pretty wild in here,” you suggested, trying to keep your voice steady amid the noise.

She shook her head, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“No way! This is amazing! Just leave me for a bit; I want to enjoy this!” Aeri grinned, clearly swept up in the atmosphere.

Frustrated, you scanned the room, searching for someone to help. Just when you were about to give up, you felt a familiar presence behind you. Jaehyun appeared concerned etched across his face as he noticed the distress in yours.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice cutting through the chaos.

“I can't get Aeri to leave, I'm worried about her”

Without a second thought, Jaehyun nodded, taking charge.

“I’ll help. Let’s get her home,” he said decisively. With a reassuring grip, he took your hand, weaving through the throngs of people until you found Aeri, still lost in the music.

“Aeri, it’s time to go home,” he said gently, but there was an authority in his tone that she couldn’t ignore.

As the three of you made your way out of the club, Jaehyun kept a protective arm around you, making sure you felt safe amidst the chaos. Outside, the cool night air hit your skin, a refreshing change from the stifling atmosphere inside.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she gets home safely,” Jaehyun reassured you, pulling out his phone to arrange a ride for Aeri.

His attention to detail and care made your heart swell a little, reminding you how he was to you at Jeju. Once the ride was confirmed, he turned to you, concern still lingering in his gaze.

“Are you okay?”, he asked.

You nodded, feeling grateful for his support. “Thanks for stepping in,” you said softly.

With Aeri safely in the car and waving goodbye, you turned to Jaehyun, feeling the weight of the night lift slightly.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess,” you said, a hint of embarrassment creeping in.

“Hey, it’s not a mess if I’m here. Let’s get you home too, alright?”, he replied, his tone light but sincere.

As you both walked to his car, you felt a flicker of connection rekindling between you. Even in the chaos, there was a comfort in knowing he had your back, and for the first time that night, you felt a sense of calm wash over you.

“So, did you have fun at the club?” he asked, glancing at you with a hint of curiosity.

You paused, considering your response. “Honestly, I prefer to sit back and enjoy quiet moments,” you admitted.

Jaehyun looked surprised but intrigued. “Really? You didn’t enjoy the excitement?”

“It felt overwhelming. I like to unwind in my own way,”

He nodded, contemplating your words. “I get that. But I just thought it would be nice to share that experience with you.”

“I appreciate that,” you said softly, your heart fluttering at the thought of him wanting to include you. “I just… prefer quieter settings.”

“Maybe I can find a balance for both of us,” he suggested with a grin. “How about I invite you to a few more gatherings? Just to see if we can make it work.”

You felt a wave of anxiety wash over you, but you reminded yourself that it couldn’t hurt to try.

"Yeah, sure"

--

Over the next few weeks, you and Aeri joined Jaehyun and his friends on special occasions at the club. The flashing lights, pulsing music, and the lively atmosphere brought a new kind of excitement to your evenings. You enjoyed the laughter, the freedom to dance, and the chance to see Jaehyun in his element. But slowly, the late nights and the constant energy began to wear on you. You felt your enthusiasm dimming with each outing.

Still, every night, when the evening wound down and people started heading home, Jaehyun was there. He would walk you to his car, his hand lightly brushing against your back in a steady, comforting gesture. He’d ask if you were alright, his gaze full of quiet concern, and he’d listen when you tried to explain the small things that felt out of sync. Yet, even with his steady presence, you couldn’t shake the weariness that came from trying to belong in a world that didn’t feel like yours.

One night, as he was driving you home after yet another club outing, you found yourself staring out the window, watching the empty streets rush by. Jaehyun glanced over, sensing your silence.

“You seem… tired,” he said gently, breaking the quiet.

You sighed, nodding. “I am. It’s fun to go out and be with everyone, but… I don’t think this is really me.”

"You don’t have to keep coming just for me, you know,” he said. “I want you to feel comfortable.”

"I know, I really do. I just starting to think if we have another connection rather than these events,"

"Y/N, of course we do. Jeju was everything to me", he firmly defended.

The silence that fell between you both was thick, filled with unspoken words and questions. You stared out the window, your heart aching with the uncertainty, the shared nights that only left you feeling more adrift.

Jaehyun seemed to sense the tension too. Instead of pressing further, he let out a soft sigh and suddenly steered the car toward a small convenience store that glowed against the quiet street.

“Come on,” he said, parking and unbuckling his seatbelt. “Let’s get some ice cream. My treat.”

You glanced over at him, a little surprised but grateful for the change of pace. “Ice cream at midnight? Are we back in Jeju?” you teased lightly, letting a small smile escape.

“Maybe,” he grinned, opening his door. “Or maybe it’s my way of slowing things down—taking us back to something simple.”

The two of you entered the store, the fluorescent lights casting a soft glow over the rows of snacks and drinks. Jaehyun led you to the freezer aisle, opening it with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he considered the options.

“You choose,” he said, stepping aside to let you take your pick.

After a brief moment of indecision, you reached for your favorite flavor, and Jaehyun grabbed one for himself. The store was empty save for the clerk, who gave you both a nod as you paid and made your way back to the car.

Sitting on the table outside, you unwrapped your ice cream in comfortable silence, the cool night air brushing against your skin. The quiet felt soothing, like the ocean breeze back in Jeju.

Jaehyun glanced over before he spoke. “I know things have been… different. And I’m sorry if I didn’t see how you were feeling sooner.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t know how to bring it up,” you admitted, taking a small bite of ice cream.

He nodded, looking down thoughtfully. “I just thought… maybe you’d see a different side of me. That maybe we’d find new memories, even if they weren’t always perfect.”

“We did,” you said softly. “But I think I just wanted a side of you that felt a little closer. More like this.”

Jaehyun’s face softened, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Let’s keep it simple, then. The way it should be.”

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you. And in that quiet moment under the stars, with only the hum of the city around you, you both found a new kind of connection that felt real, like the kind that would last even when the music faded.

--

"So, why don’t you take photos of people?" Jaehyun asked over dinner that evening.

He had invited you to his place, a rare occasion given both of your busy schedules—especially with him working on his solo album. These days, it felt like you hardly saw each other, but recently, he’d been reaching out more.

More than a friend would.

You flipped through the faded photos of Jeju scattered on the table, both of you reminiscing about the quiet beauty captured in each frame.

“Sometimes, the happiness we see in people is just a mask hiding what they’re really feeling,” you explained softly. “I thought I’d rather respect that.”

Jaehyun nodded thoughtfully, his gaze shifting back to you.

“So, are you masking something now?” he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Yes, yes I am,” you replied with a grin.

“Are you going to be honest and tell me?”

“Nope, I’m keeping you guessing.”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, chuckling as he shook his head.

You looked at his vintage Polaroid camera, an idea forming.

“Alright, how about this?” you proposed. “Let’s take a picture of each other and exchange them. I’ll write my true feelings on your photo, and you’ll do the same on mine. But there’s one rule: we only give the photos back when we’re ready to reveal what we really feel. Deal?”

Jaehyun looked at you, captivated by the idea. He was so absorbed in your words that he took a moment to respond.

“Deal.”

You both took turns photographing each other, trying to hide your shyness by laughing and teasing. When it was Jaehyun’s turn to photograph you, he held up the Polaroid, his gaze warm and intent.

“Alright, turn a little to the left,” he instructed, his voice soft but focused. “Now, smile.”

You followed his direction, feeling a bit silly under his careful watch. The camera clicked, capturing the moment, but he didn’t lower it just yet.

“That’s perfect,” he murmured, a faint smile playing on his lips. “You look… beautiful.”

Your cheeks warmed at his compliment.

“Let me see!” you demanded with a playful grin as the photo developed.

When it was your turn to photograph him, Jaehyun relaxed into the moment, and you couldn’t resist teasing him a bit.

“Tilt your head just a bit,” you instructed. “Now, give me that serious look you do on stage.”

He smirked but complied, trying to keep his expression neutral, though the hint of a smile broke through. You clicked the shutter, capturing the side of him that felt both familiar and new. When the photos finished developing, you handed his picture back to him with a grin.

“Take a look at yours! Before it officially becomes mine,” you teased, your eyes gleaming with amusement. “You look really good. I’m lucky to have this picture.”

Jaehyun’s heart skipped a beat at your words, charmed by your cheerful excitement. He couldn’t help but find you adorable.

You each wrote down your true feelings on the photos, not knowing what the other had written. You both tucked the photos away, holding onto them as though they held something precious.

--

As you step out of the office building, your phone rings. Jaehyun’s name appears on the screen, and despite your exhaustion, a smile lights up your face.

“Hello, Jaehyun.”

“Hey, Y/N. Where are you now?”

“I just finished work—”

“I have something to tell you, and I wanted you to be the first to know,” he interrupts, his tone urgent. You freeze at the sudden seriousness, sensing that something might be wrong.

“Okay… go ahead. I’m listening.”

You can almost picture him on the other end, catching his breath, trying to steady himself before speaking.

“There’s this producer—someone really skilled, who could be a huge help for my new music project. He’s interested in working with me,” Jaehyun says, his excitement barely contained.

“But?” you prompt, sensing there’s more.

“But the catch is… he’s only available tonight, and he wants to meet at a club.”

You feel a twinge of discomfort. In your mind, nothing good ever seems to come from such meetings, but you remind yourself that this is Jaehyun’s career. You’re not fully familiar with the music industry, so you want to hear him out before passing any judgment.

“I wanted you to be the first to know. And… to make sure you’re okay with it,” he adds softly. “I don’t want to do something you wouldn’t like.”

You pause, giving his words careful thought. Of course, you want Jaehyun to succeed and have every opportunity he deserves. But the idea of him going to a club, especially for a meeting, doesn’t sit well with you. Yet, you don’t want to be the one to hold him back.

“Jaehyun, I’m probably the last person you should be asking for… permission. I don’t know enough about your industry to judge.”

“I know,” he replies quickly. “But I just really wanted to share this with you. It means a lot to me.” There’s a vulnerability in his voice that tugs at your heart. “Come with me?”

“No,” you say gently. “This is something you need to handle on your own. I don’t want to be a distraction.”

“You’re never a distraction, Y/N,” he insists. Then, after a pause, he adds, “I’ve heard… things about this producer. That he has a reputation in clubs, especially with… girls. So, please, come with me. I don’t want any misunderstandings between us.”

You sigh, the weight of his request settling over you, knowing he wants you there as his anchor, as the one he trusts most.

After a pause, you finally agree to go with him. Jaehyun breathes a sigh of relief, thanking you over and over. Before you know it, he’s already arranging a driver to pick you up, wanting to make things as easy as possible.

When you arrive at the club, the noise, the flashing lights, and the press of bodies instantly overwhelm you. The crowd is thick, and you feel almost invisible as you enter. To everyone here, you’re just another face in the crowd, a nobody. Your eyes immediately scan the room until they land on Jaehyun, not far from where you are, deep in conversation with the producer.

Not wanting to intrude on his discussion, you make your way to the bar, ordering a drink, hoping it will settle your nerves. As you wait, you can’t help but overhear a few girls nearby, chatting animatedly about Jaehyun. You glance over, noticing their eyes are all trained on him.

“That’s Jaehyun, right? The one talking to the boss?” one of them says, her voice full of admiration.

“Yeah. He’s even more handsome in person,” another girl adds, twirling her hair. “And now that he’s connected? Total package.”

A sinking feeling settles in your chest as you realize these girls are part of the producer’s entourage—or perhaps for his amusement. Their conversation softens as they discuss “getting called in” to meet Jaehyun, clearly viewing him as the next big opportunity.

It doesn’t sit well with you, the way they’re admiring him only because of his rising reputation. They don’t see the Jaehyun you know—the one who spends late nights perfecting lyrics, who pours his heart into every melody. To them, he’s just the latest shiny thing, a stepping stone for their own ambitions.

For a moment, you feel an urge to step in, to somehow defend him, to tell them he’s worth so much more than shallow admiration. But you take a deep breath, reminding yourself that you’re here for him, not to let your insecurities get the best of you.

Finishing his conversation with the producer, Jaehyun glances around and his eyes light up when he spots you. His face breaks into a warm smile that melts away any remaining doubt you had about being here.

“Hey,” he says, his voice soft but full of warmth. “Thanks for coming. Really. It means a lot.”

“Of course,” you reply, smiling back at him. “I’m here for you.”

You both linger in a shared silence, the pounding music and chaos of the club fading into the background as you lock eyes. In this moment, it feels like you’re the only two people in the room.

“So, how did it go?” you finally ask, breaking the silence.

“I think it went well,” he says, unable to hide the pride in his smile. “But I don’t want to get ahead of myself.”

“A little confidence never hurt anyone,” you tease lightly.

Jaehyun laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Maybe. Having you here makes everything better, like… I’m doing something right.”

Your heart felt like it had taken a hit, an arrow striking somewhere deep. You wanted to tell Jaehyun that the whole scene felt wrong from the start, that it made you uneasy. But seeing him genuinely happy, glowing with the promise of new opportunities, softened the edge of your discomfort. Maybe, for him, it was worth it.

Just then, the group of girls who had been watching him earlier made their way over, flashing practiced smiles.

“Hey, Jaehyun, right? We work with the producer,” one of them said, her voice dripping with charm.

Without hesitation, they closed in around him, the leader of the group resting a hand lightly on his arm.

You took a step back, feeling like an outsider in a place you never wanted to be, as Jaehyun exchanged polite words with the girls. But soon, their interactions became more forward—laughter too loud, hands lingering on his shoulder, his back, brushing against him as if they couldn’t resist touching him.

More girls nearby started to notice, whispering excitedly, “Isn’t that Jaehyun? I heard he’s working with the producer now.”

Their voices were filled with admiration and a hungry curiosity—the kind that surfaced only when someone had something others wanted. Slowly, more of them drifted over, until Jaehyun was nearly surrounded, their hands reaching out as if he were some prize. One girl even handed him her phone, asking for his number under the pretense of “future projects.” Jaehyun, always polite, tried to decline without offending her, but the group was insistent, treating him like a trophy.

A knot tightened in your stomach. It hurt more than you wanted to admit, watching them admire him for all the wrong reasons. And he, standing at the center of it all, looked caught off guard but also resigned, as if he’d been here before—surrounded by people who only saw his status.

Watching this unfold tore at you, and before you knew it, you turned and started to walk away from the loud party. The instant Jaehyun noticed, his expression shifted to concern. He excused himself from the throng of girls and quickly made his way over to you.

"Y/N, wait!" he called, gently grabbing your wrist. "What’s wrong? Talk to me."

"Everything, Jaehyun," you replied, voice tight. "You’re at the center of it all, surrounded by people who only see you as a symbol of power and connections. It just feels… wrong."

Jaehyun furrowed his brows, clearly caught off guard.

"I didn’t ask for this, Y/N," he said defensively. "I’m not trying to play some 'manly' role. This is just work—I told you. These girls work with the producer. I can't just push them away."

“Well, if this is part of your work, then maybe you don’t need me around,” you replied, trying to walk away again, but he tightened his grip on your wrist.

“Y/N, you’re being unreasonable now,” he said, frustration seeping into his tone.

You looked up, eyes fierce. “Maybe I am, Jaehyun, but that’s the problem. Men like you get placed on a pedestal, while women who speak out—women like me—get labeled as ‘too much.’ You may not see it, but this whole scene reinforces everything I stand against.”

A flash of offense crossed his face.

“So what am I supposed to do? Stop living my life because you don’t agree with how it looks? I’m not doing anything wrong, Y/N.”

“But you’re not doing anything either,” you replied, disappointment clear in your voice. “I guess this is where we clash, Jaehyun. I can’t accept this part of your life.”

You lowered your gaze, your heart aching with the weight of leaving him, but deep down, you felt he wasn’t fighting for anything real. His voice shook as he processed your words.

“So what now? Are you ending this over something I didn’t even know was an issue?”

“I can’t pretend it doesn’t bother me—just like it bothered you when you thought I was intruding on your privacy.”

Jaehyun looked down, the weight of the situation crashing over him. He seemed crushed, the reality of losing you sinking in.

“Do you… hate me?” he asked softly, his voice laden with sadness.

You felt the ache in his words, but you both needed this moment of honesty.

“Jaehyun, I could never hate you,” you replied, tears brimming in your eyes. “And that’s why this matters so much to me. I’m sorry, Jaehyun, but I have to go.”

You pulled away, leaving him standing there, alone in the crowd, as you walked out into the night. Leaving Jaehyun standing alone in the cold night air. A part of you wished he’d have reached out, tried to hold onto you—but the reality was stark and unyielding. With each step, your tears fell harder, the painful truth settling in: he wasn’t the kind of person who would fight to keep you.

Walking away, you pulled out your phone and dialed Aeri’s number.

“Aeri? Can you pick me up? Please, I can’t stand this anymore,” you choked out, voice thick with emotion.

But as your steps slowed, the realization hit: no one was coming right away. You tried to locate a nearby bus stop or a taxi, but you were unfamiliar with the area, so used to going everywhere with Jaehyun by your side. The weight of it all settled on your shoulders, and just as you were about to lose hope, you accidentally collided with someone.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, bowing your head, trying to hide your tear-streaked face.

“Oh, aren’t you Y/N? Are you okay?” you looked up to find Jeno standing before you, a mixture of concern and surprise on his face.

“Are you—” you stammered, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. “Jeno?”

“Yeah, Aeri sent me to pick you up instead. She said you needed it,” he replied, glancing back toward the club before focusing on you again. “What happened?”

You let out a sigh, feeling the familiar knot tighten in your chest. “It’s complicated.”

Jeno’s brows knitted together, a genuine empathy in his expression. But sensing your reluctance, he didn’t press further.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here,” he offered softly. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. Aeri’s worried.”

Grateful for his calm presence, you nodded and followed him to his car, parked under the dim glow of the streetlights.

As he drove, Jeno glanced at you, his tone gentle but thoughtful. “If you need to talk about it… I know a bit about you and Jaehyun.”

You managed a small smile. “Aeri filled you in, huh?”

He nodded, smiling back. “Jaehyun can be… a lot sometimes.”

Looking out the window at the passing lights, you swallowed the lump in your throat. “We fought. Over something that just… doesn’t seem to matter to him.”

Jeno’s expression softened.

“If it matters to you, then it’s worth something. When someone’s in the spotlight like he is, sometimes it takes a while for them to understand the impact of their actions.” He looked at you, a steady reassurance in his eyes.

“Give it time. If he truly cares, he’ll come to see why it’s important to you. You deserve someone who’ll stand by what you believe in.”

“Thanks, Jeno,” you whispered, grateful for his steady support.

--

“Y/N, can you help me with this?” your colleague asked, passing over yet another project folder.

“Sure, just put it aside with the other folders,”

You barely look up as you tried to focus on the spreadsheet in front of you. Each day new assignment seemed to pile higher on your desk. Regardless, you still work like crazy to the point it seems like you wanted the pile of work.

Aeri hovered nearby, her expression laced with concern. “Are you… okay?” she asked gently.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just getting things done before audit season.”

“That’s it, y/n. It’s not even the audit season yet, you should take it slow. You’ll be worn out before the audit season”

You just scoof her off, saying you’re not the type to get tired easily. But as she walked away, you felt the weight of it all pressing down. Taking a deep breath, you glanced at your phone, but the screen remained empty.

That night, you decided to take a break and invited Aeri over to your apartment for drinks. She arrived with her boyfriend, Jeno, who brought along a few snacks and his usual easygoing smile. The three of you settled around the living room, drinks in hand, with laughter filling the space as the night went on.

You’ve been trying to keep up with Aeri teasing Jeno and revealing funny stories from the office, sipping from your glass and smiling at the right moments, but your mind kept wandering off. At one point, Aeri gave you a knowing look.

“Hey, are you really okay?” she asked, nudging you.

“Yeah, just… you know, work’s been a lot lately. I’m probably just exhausted.”

“I told you, you would run out energy before the audit. You should be more gentle to yourself”,

You looked into the can of beer in your hand, it was empty. Somehow it reminded you how you’ve been feeling lately, despite the tons of work.

“I should have. I thought the load if work would fill up my mind, my time. But now, I don’t feel anything”,

Aeri and Jeno was suprised at your confession. You had always seem to have your life together, she wasn’t expecting you to rant out just like.

“Y/N”, Jeno unsure of how to address the situation. “Hm, are you— hm— drunk? Should we call it a night?”

You chuckled, how miserable you have been trying to maintain the image of indepent woman that now you were unsure do people that you seriously when your not mentally unstable.

“I must be a bit tipsy—“,

“Your waiting for him, aren’t you?”, Aeri interrupted, which took you by suprises. “I can tell by how happy you are with him”

Your eyes slowly turn into glass without you realising as Aeri continue.

“That now, when he left, he took it with him”,

You slowly look at her. Aeri had always been cheerful, lifting up the mood that she might seem immature sometimes. But in the moment, you realise that she must have been masking her pain.

Just like how all of us have been doing.

“Yes, and I’m missing him too much”.

Aeri slowly scotch closer to you, wrapping her arms around you.

“It’s okay, y/n. You don’t need to tough it out for now. There’s nothing wrong about it”, as she whisper to you while embracing you.

Her words cracked something inside you. A tear slid down your cheek before you could stop it. You finally let the tears flow, the concern and understanding in her words made realized she’d noticed everything you thought you’d hidden.

Aeri wraps her arms tighter around you. Just like you, she had her own struggles masked by smiles and laughter, and for the first time, you both let yourselves be vulnerable together, acknowledging the pain you’d all been carrying alone. Jeno placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, saying nothing, letting you both just be.

—

Unlike you, Jaehyun headed to the club that night, on his way to meet the producer to discuss new ideas for his songs. He had been working with the producer for a few weeks now, and while Jaehyun appreciated the producer's vision and creativity, he was growing impatient with the slow progress. It didn’t help that the producer seemed wrapped up in the nightlife scene, filling his evenings with club activities that left Jaehyun restless, wishing he could focus solely on the music instead.

Just like you, he was starting to feel worn out.

“Hey, Haeun,” Jaehyun greeted a woman who had approached him early on, soon after hearing he’d be collaborating with the producer.

She smiled back, a faint, knowing look in her eyes. After weeks of politely declining advances from the women who had initially surrounded him, the interest had mostly faded. One by one, they’d lost interest, sensing that Jaehyun wasn’t interested in mixing business with pleasure—or perhaps realizing his connection with the producer wasn’t as social as they’d hoped.

“Looking for the producer?” she asked casually.

“Yeah.” Jaehyun ordered a drink, taking a sip as he looked around. “Do you know where he is?”

“Oh, you know him,” she replied, sliding her hand subtly onto his lap. “He’s probably just handling some ‘work’ stuff. He’ll be here in a minute.”

Jaehyun resisted the urge to pull away, the casual touch a reminder of how he’d been drawn into this world—a place he never truly fit into. His mind drifted back to a different kind of night, quieter and far from the flashing lights and unfamiliar faces. And as much as he tried to forget.

His mind drifted to you.

Jaehyun gently removed Haeun's hand from his lap, hoping to diffuse the situation without causing a scene.

"Sorry, Haeun, but I’m just here to talk business." he said, keeping his voice calm,"

Her smile faltered, her expression twisting with embarrassment and irritation. She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a challenging tone.

“Oh, come on, Jaehyun,” she said, her tone laced with annoyance. “You’re really just here to work? Don’t act so above it all.”

When he didn’t respond, she moved in even closer, pressing herself against him as though determined to wear down his resistance. Jaehyun felt his patience thinning; he pushed her gently but firmly aside, realizing that his polite refusals weren’t going to get through to her.

“Look, Haeun,” he said, keeping his voice steady but his tone sharp, “I meant what I said. I’m not interested.”

The flash of anger in her eyes was unmistakable, her pride clearly bruised.

“You think you’re better than everyone here?” she sneered, her voice loud enough to draw a few curious glances from nearby. “Or are you just here to use the producer and then leave, like none of us matter?”

Jaehyun took a deep breath, steadying his frustration. He missed you—missed the clarity and grounding you brought, and for a split second, he felt the sting of how right you’d been about all of this.

“I’m here for my music,” he replied, his tone measured and cool. “If you don’t get that, it’s best you leave me alone.”

Without another glance, Jaehyun turned and made his way out of the club, distancing himself from her and the crowd. He could feel the weight of their stares trailing behind him, but he kept his gaze forward. The entire encounter had left him feeling hollow, revealing the shallow undercurrents he’d ignored for too long.

Outside, under the quiet stretch of the night sky, Jaehyun searched for solace in the calm after the chaos. He pulled out his phone, his thumb hesitating over your contact. He wanted to call you, to hear your voice and find comfort in the familiarity he’d pushed away. For a long moment, he debated it, the thought lingering like a lifeline in the silence.

But his pride held him back. He’d already felt it bruised enough tonight, and the painful reminder of the distance he’d let grow between you weighed heavy on his heart—a reminder of what he’d lost and what he might never get back.

--

Jaehyun wandered to a street bar near his place, settling into a quiet corner with a bottle and a glass. The night air was thick with the hum of city life, a familiar background to his quiet unraveling. He glanced at his phone, fingers hovering over a message he’d hesitated to send for too long.

With a steadying breath, he finally typed to the producer:

I don’t think this is working out. I’ll need to step back from our project.

He hit send, feeling the release like a drop off a tightrope, his resolve firm. He poured himself another drink, the burn of the alcohol both grounding and numbing.

His hands went through his hair. In the moments of disp, his mind went too much on you. Thinking how much he need your warmth from the silence.

He lifted his head from the glass just as he noticed a familiar face across the bar, one that brought an instant sense of nostalgia.

“Jaehyun?” The voice was warm and surprised, and when he looked up, he was met with the wide grin of an old high school friend, Minseok.

“oh— minseok ah!”, they both of them reach out for a handshake as they bump their chest together.

“what are your doing here alone?”

“just trying to drain day the day. how about you?”,

“why are you doing it alone? you should drink it some, let’s drink together”,

They bith laughed as Minseok sat down with Jaehyun. They quickly catch up and laughing over shared memories. The comfort of familiarity soothed some of Jaehyun's earlier bitterness, and as the drinks flowed.

“So what are you up to now? The last time we talked, you were in SNU doing music”, Jaehyun asked.

“Well,” Minseok replied with a small smile, “I’ve started producing now. If you’re looking for someone to work with, I’d be honored to work with you.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widened. “You’re producing now?”

“Yeah, Ive been producing for quite some time now”,

Eventually, Jaehyun shared what had been weighing on him—the fallout with the producer, the frustrations of the past few weeks, and how he felt he was losing himself in the industry.

Minseok nodded, sympathy in his gaze.

“I get it. It happens you know? Sometimes, people even forget why they’re doing what they love in the first place.”

Jaehyun sighed, swirling his drink.

“Yeah, I just didn’t expect it to feel this empty”.

“Well, come to my studio” Minseok replied with pouring into his glass, “maybe I can help.”

“Well, come to my studio,” Minseok replied, pouring another drink. “Maybe I can help.”

A spark of hope flickered in Jaehyun's chest, something he hadn't felt in ages—something he had lost in the sterile demands of his previous producer.

“I’d actually like that… a lot.”

--

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Jaehyun threw himself into his music, each day dissolving into the next as he filled the empty hours with endless melodies and late-night recording sessions. Minseok’s studio became his second home, its walls absorbing every failed attempt, every breakthrough, and every quiet moment of doubt.

One evening, Jaehyun headed to the company building for a round of final checks on his solo album. His body was tired, but his mind was relentlessly driven. As he walked past the studios, he nearly bumped into Jeno, who looked like he was the last one out after practice. Jaehyun’s face lit up, grateful for the unexpected company and a break from his own thoughts.

"Hyung!" Jeno greeted with a wide grin, pulling him into a quick hug. "Are you here working on your solo album?"

"Yeah," Jaehyun replied with a tired smile. "Just wrapping things up, trying to balance it with the group’s schedule."

Jeno chuckled, nodding knowingly.

"Sounds like you’re living in the studio these days."

"Yeah… but my friend's been helping a lot."

"That’s good. You could use the support."

Jaehyun hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Hey, Jeno… have you seen Y/N around lately?"

Here’s an enhanced and corrected version:

There was no hiding the fact that Jeno was the one who took you home that night. When news broke of him being spotted with a woman in his car, rumours quickly started to swirl. Although SM Entertainment promptly cleared things up, stating that Jeno was simply helping out a friend, the speculation had already spread far and wide.

Jeno’s expression softened. He knew this question would come sooner or later.

"We hung out a few nights ago," he said, choosing his words carefully. "She’s… well, she’s been busy with work. The overtime's wearing her down a bit."

"That's good to know", Jaehyun's shoulders relaxed slightly, but there was a flicker of something else—regret, maybe.

Thoughts of you had crept into his mind more than he wanted to admit, but he still felt the weight of their last encounter at the club. The harsh words exchanged, her disappointment in him—it all lingered, making it hard to reach out.

"She's changed a bit," Jeno continued, his tone gentle. "But she's still Y/N… maybe just a little more guarded."

Jaehyun looked away, clenching his jaw. He hadn’t reached out, and not for lack of wanting to. After the fight, he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe she didn’t want to see him anymore, that maybe he’d crossed a line that couldn’t be erased.

"Hyung, you should reach out to her. I think she’s waiting for you, even if she wouldn’t say it."

Jaehyun’s chest tightened, a surge of longing mixed with uncertainty. The thought of her waiting gave him a sliver of hope, but the memory of her disappointment held him back.

“Maybe…” Jaehyun murmured, half to himself.

But he knew he’d have to decide soon—before the silence between them became a wall neither could cross.

Jaehyun’s thoughts churned as he walked back to his car, Jeno’s words echoing in his mind: "I think she’s waiting for you." He replayed the last fight in his head—the hurt in your eyes, the way you turned and walked away, and the silence that had followed ever since. Every part of him wanted to see you, but his pride and guilt had held him back. Still, the hope that you might be waiting was enough to push him forward.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he decided he couldn’t go another day without seeing you.

—

Exhausted from another late night at the office, you stepped out into the chilly evening air, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. Fatigue clung to you, making every step feel heavier. All you wanted was to go home and collapse into bed.

But as you descended the office steps, a familiar figure caught your eye—Jaehyun.

The sight of him only reignited the simmering anger you'd been trying to bury since your last argument. Without a second glance, you walked right past him, clutching your bag tightly. He blinked, briefly thrown off, before quickly following you, trying to keep pace.

"Y/N… can we talk?" he called, his voice almost pleading.

"We have nothing to talk about, Jaehyun," you replied, your gaze fixed straight ahead.

"Please… I need you to listen to me," he insisted, desperation edging into his tone.

"I already got your message, Jaehyun."

He frowned, confusion flashing across his face.

"What message, Y/N? I never even reached out to you yet."

"Exactly," you shot back, bitterness lacing your words. You stopped abruptly, finally turning to look at him, eyes cold. "No reply is a reply, don’t you get it?"

He fell silent, visibly taken aback by the weight of your words. You could see the hurt flicker across his face, but you refused to let it soften your resolve.

"Since when did you start seeing silence as a bad sign for us?" he murmured, searching your face. "We’ve shared so many moments in silence… yet I always felt connected to you. I thought you understood that."

You shook your head, feeling the frustration bubble over. "This is different, Jaehyun. You don’t understand—"

"Then make me understand!" he interrupted, his voice rising with urgency. "Let me in, Y/N. I know I should’ve reached out, and I'm trying to make up for it now. I was caught up with my schedule, the solo album, everything… but that’s not an excuse."

He took a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging.

"I'm just… shocked that my silence hurt you this much. I got so used to feeling your love, even in quiet moments, that I took it for granted. I thought you knew how much you mean to me without me having to say it."

You stood there, caught between shock and confusion, unsure whether to feel angry or softened by his words. He looked down, his gaze falling to the ground, as if ashamed.

"Jaehyun," you started slowly, "I think… I think I’m a bit lost, too."

He squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment, before looking back up at you, a flicker of vulnerability in his gaze.

"I like you, Y/N. I really do. And the thought of living without you… I don’t think I can do it anymore."

The raw honesty in his words left you speechless, your emotions tangled in a knot you couldn’t quite unravel. Your mind and heart seemed to be waging a silent war, each pulling you in a different direction.

"Jaehyun," you finally whispered, barely able to find your voice. "I… I can't give you an answer right now."

He nodded slowly.

"I understand. And that's okay. Really. You can keep living your life, just as you are. But… if you ever find your way back to me along the way, I'll be here, waiting."

The two of you held each other's gaze, a shared softness settling over the tension. For a moment, it felt like the world had quieted around you, leaving just the fragile connection lingering between you. After a beat, he spoke again, his voice gentle.

"Let's have dinner together. I can’t bear seeing you like this. Let me at least make sure you��re okay tonight."

You hesitated, but the sincerity in his eyes made it hard to refuse.

A short while later, you found yourselves seated at a quiet, tucked-away street bar. The dim lighting cast a soft, golden glow over the tables, creating a small bubble of warmth around you both. As you sat across from him, waiting for your food, an awkward silence settled between you.

“Thank you,” he finally said, breaking the silence. “For agreeing to this. I know things have been… complicated.”

“It’s just dinner, Jaehyun,” you murmured, but even as you said it, you both knew it was more than that.

“I know. But it’s been a while since we’ve done this—just sat together. I missed it.”, you stared at him, disbelief crossing your face.

"So, what made you finally reach out to me?"

The question seemed to catch him off guard. He shifted, his fingers tracing patterns on the table, clearly thrown by your directness. But you held his gaze, waiting, wanting nothing but the truth. Finally, he exhaled, as if releasing a breath he’d been holding for too long.

"Jeno told me about you," he admitted, his voice low.

Your eyes narrowed slightly, a mix of curiosity and surprise tugging at you. "What did he say?"

"He told me how you’ve been working late, how you've become more reserved, and… how you were hurting. And I knew I couldn’t just sit by and let that happen—not when I’m part of the reason."

His words hung heavy in the air, raw and unfiltered. For the first time, you saw a flicker of vulnerability in him, a glimpse of the struggle he’d been hiding beneath the image he showed to the world. You took a slow, deep breath, feeling a pang in your chest as you watched him.

"At first, I questioned everything you said during the argument, and I let my ego get in the way. I didn’t want to admit that maybe… maybe I was the one who let things get this far. I thought… maybe you’d be better off without me."

The honesty in his voice chipped away at something inside you, softening the wall you'd built around your heart, brick by brick. After a quiet moment, he spoke up again, even softer.

“I’ve missed you, Y/N. More than I realized, honestly.”

The sincerity in his eyes held you there, and for a brief moment, the walls you’d built around yourself began to soften. Just then, the waiter arrived with your drinks, placing them carefully on the table before slipping away. You took a small sip, feeling the warmth of the drink calm some of the tension lingering between you.

"Jaehyun," you began softly, choosing your words carefully. "I really like you. I like you a lot, maybe even more than I should," you confessed, and you saw his eyes light up, a flicker of hope sparking within him. But you quickly continued, grounding him.

"But I can't just jump into your arms because of that. Not when there's still a part of you—something in you—that I’m struggling to accept."

Jaehyun listened intently, his gaze unwavering, absorbing every word with an intensity that made your heart ache. He nodded, acknowledging the weight of what you were saying.

"I need time," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Time to think this through carefully, to be sure that I can handle everything that comes with loving you."

He took a deep breath, his expression softening with understanding. "I respect that. Take all the time you need. Just… let me show you that I can be better, that I can be someone worth waiting for."

The sincerity in his promise warmed something deep within you, a small glimmer of hope settling in your chest.

"Let's do that".

--

After that night, Jaehyun took your words to heart. He didn’t push or demand more than you were ready to give; instead, he let his actions do the talking. He slowly made his presence a comforting constant in your life. Despite the walls you’d built around your heart, you felt them weakening.

He started with the small things. He’d text you after your long workdays, asking how you were holding up or sharing a lighthearted story to lift your spirits. Occasionally, he’d wait for you outside your office building after a hectic day, bringing you to a nearby café or restaurant, where you’d chat about work, life, and everything in between over the meal. He’d simply sit and listen, his attention fully focused on you, as though you were the center of his world. In those moments, you felt truly loved.

But then came the grander gestures—the ones that truly took you by surprise and reminded you just how serious he was about making up for lost time.

On one of his overseas trips, he sent you a carefully wrapped package. Inside was a small, hand-carved music box with a delicate melody that played when you turned the handle. Alongside it was a note in his familiar handwriting.

“For when I can’t be there in person, I hope this brings you a bit of comfort. - Jaehyun”

The small gift warmed your heart, and you could almost picture him browsing through shops, trying to find something that would mean something to you. As the days passed, you found yourself reaching for the music box on nights when you missed him more than you wanted to admit.

One evening, he invited you out to dinner, insisting it was just a casual meal. But when you arrived, you realized he’d gone out of his way to reserve a table at a restaurant you’d mentioned in passing, one you’d wanted to visit for ages. The thoughtfulness behind each gesture made it clear—he was listening, paying attention to the details you sometimes didn’t even remember sharing.

After dinner, the night felt lighter, as though a fragile peace had settled between you. As you both walked out of the restaurant, Jaehyun glanced at you, his expression hopeful but cautious.

“Would you… like to come over?” he asked softly. “I could show you some of the tracks from the album.”

“Sure,” you replied with a gentle smile.

He led you to his place, a quiet but cozy apartment just like how you remember it was. As you entered his place, you immediately noticed the shelves lined with LPs which was new since the last time you visit, each one carefully organized. Jaehyun led you to the collection, his face lighting up as he pulled a few records out to show you.

"These are some of my favorites," he explained, flipping through the collection with an easy familiarity. He held up his own LP, his album, with a hint of pride and vulnerability in his eyes.

"Have you heard my album?" he asked, his tone soft, almost uncertain.

You shook your head. “Not like this for sure. I was… waiting for the right moment, I guess.”

You hesitated, glancing at the LP in his hands. “Honestly… I think I was a little scared to listen deeply,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jaehyun’s brows furrowed, a look of gentle curiosity on his face.

“Scared? Why?”

You sighed, searching for the right words.

“I was afraid I’d hear… parts of you that you’d given to someone else. Your songs comes from a place of real emotion. The way you write, the way you sing—I could tell.” You sighed, searching for the right words. “I didn’t know if I was ready to face how much you loved someone else.”

For a moment, silence filled the space between you, broken only by the soft hum of the record player. Jaehyun looked at you, his expression shifting from surprise to something tender and understanding. He gently placed the LP onto the player, setting the needle down carefully.

“Then let me share it with you now. These songs… it’s a part of my journey, but it doesn’t define where my heart is now,” he said with his gaze soft on you.

He gestured for you to sit on the couch, and you settled in beside him, a comfortable closeness forming as you listened. The gentle strains of his voice surrounded you, and in that moment, you felt the walls between you begin to melt away. With each track, you could feel his heart and effort poured into the music—every beat, every melody felt like a glimpse into parts of him he’d never fully shared before. You found yourself leaning in, absorbed by the rawness in each song.

“How does it feel?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if not to disrupt the music or the moment.

“Feels like I should have listened to it sooner,” forming a smile at your face as you turned to him.

A quiet joy softened his face, and he settled back into the couch, content. The music continued to flow around you both. As the last notes faded, you slowly got up from the couch. Moving over to the record player, you reached down to adjust the LP, prepared to reset it for another play.

Just as you turned around, ready to ask if he wanted to listen again. But when you turned, you found him leaning back against the cushions, his eyes closed, his breathing slow and steady—fast asleep.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips. For all the intensity and energy he had shared with you tonight, he looked peaceful now, almost childlike, as though he’d finally allowed himself to rest. You walked over quietly, taking a seat next to him, your gaze lingering on his sleeping face.

“He must be really tired”, you thought.

In the silence, you found yourself tracing the memories of every little thing he’d done. His thoughtfulness, his attentiveness—it all added up to something deeper, a love that went beyond words. Each one making it harder for you to keep your walls up.

After a while, you entered a room quietly to reach for a blanket, the dim light casting soft shadows over everything. As you looked around, your eyes landed on a small picture frame on the bedside table. The photo was faced down, but on the back, in Jaehyun's familiar handwriting.

Love.

Curiosity tingled in your chest, and with a hesitant hand, you reached out and flipped the photo over. Your breath caught when you saw the image—a Polaroid of you, taken at the day you promised to tell your feelings when you held in his. You remembered the day, the laughter, the way he’d been looking at you just before he snapped the picture. It was one of those moments you didn’t think he’d remember, yet here it was, tucked close to where he rested.

You carefully draped the blanket over him, tucking it around his shoulders. But as you leaned forward, Jaehyun stirred, his eyes fluttering open, a bit disoriented as he took in his surroundings.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to fall asleep—” he mumbled, his voice laced with sleep, eyes blinking up at you.

You remained silent, your emotions laid bare by the tears that still clung to your lashes. His gaze softened as he noticed them, his brow furrowing in quiet concern.

“Are you… okay?” he asked gently, his hand lifting to brushing your arm to comfort.

You closed your eyes briefly, gathering the courage to voice what had been lingering in your mind. When you finally looked at him, your voice was barely a whisper.

“Can I… can I kiss you?”

For a moment, silence filled the room, his expression shifting from surprise to something deeper, something almost vulnerable. He leaned in closer, giving you the answer, the distance between you dissolving until your lips met in a soft, tender kiss—one that seemed to carry everything unsaid between you both.

As you pulled away, he looked at you, his gaze searching.

“What happened?”, his voice barely audible, as if afraid to break the fragile moment between you.

Without a word, you reached into your pocket and pulled out the polaroid you had found in his room. Jaehyun’s eyes widened slightly, his breath catching as he realized what you’d found. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came. Instead, he looked at you with a vulnerability he rarely showed, his gaze filled with emotions he had kept hidden.

“You kept this,” you whispered, your voice wavering as you traced the edges of the photo. “All this time… you kept this.”

He nodded, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I couldn’t let it go,” he admitted softly, fingers brushing over the polaroid. “It reminded me of what I couldn’t say out loud.”

Tears pricked your eyes again, but this time, they were mixed with the warmth of understanding, the realization of how deeply he felt, even if he hadn’t always known how to show it.

Reaching into your bag, you pulled out a polaroid—a picture of Jaehyun. You held it in your hand, feeling its familiar weight. On the back, in your handwriting, was the word Love, mirroring the same word on his photo of you.

Finally, you handed it to him, and Jaehyun’s eyes softened as he realized you had kept this silent connection close. Then, without warning, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. You could feel the steady beat of his heart against your own, his warmth surrounding you like a shield.

“I love you,” he whispered into your hair, his voice filled with a quiet conviction. “I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you, to show you.”

The words you had longed to hear settled into the quiet spaces of your heart, filling the emptiness you hadn’t even realized was there.

“I love you too, Jaehyun,” you murmured back, feeling the weight of your shared confessions settle between you like a promise.

With a soft smile, he pulled you closer. His arms hold you securely as you rest against his chest. The room was filled with a comforting silence, broken only by the steady rhythm of his breathing. Gradually, your eyes grew heavy, the exhaustion of the night and the emotional weight finally catching up with you.

With one last glance at each other, you let yourselves drift off, content and safe in each other's arms. For the first time, neither of you felt the need to say anything more—everything had already been said in the way you held each other, two hearts finally at rest.

--

Two years later, you both found yourselves on a long-awaited vacation in Japan, a trip you’d talked about countless times. After Jaehyun’s military service, you were grateful for the time he had before diving back into his schedule. And for you, ever since the break you took during your suspension, you’ve improved tremendously at work. Recognizing the benefit of rest, your company has even begun encouraging employees to take breaks now and then.

Now, riding the train through a breathtaking winter landscape, you both watched in awe as snow blanketed the world outside, each flake catching the soft, wintry light. The quiet rhythm of the tracks provided the perfect backdrop, bringing a sense of peace to all the hard work that had led you here.

You leaned closer to the window, mesmerized by the beauty—the trees dusted with snow, rooftops transformed into sugar-coated sculptures, the whole world cloaked in a serene white glow. It felt like a scene from a dream.

Jaehyun, watching you with a soft smile, felt warmth rise in his chest as he took in your wonderstruck expression. Suddenly, drawn to the moment, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek. You turned, a little startled, only to find him inches away, his gaze warm and steady.

“That was a surprise,” you laughed, cheeks warming as he smiled back, his eyes shining.

The train eventually stopped at a small station, and Jaehyun led you toward a quaint post office nearby. He’d planned this little detour—this spot was known for its “love letter” tradition, where visitors could write and send letters to each other that would arrive years later. Jaehyun handed you a pen and paper, a mischievous glint in his eyes, as he nodded toward a desk set up in the corner.

“Let’s write something for each other,” Jaehyun suggested, he handed you a pen and a fresh sheet of paper, gesturing toward a small desk in the corner.

“Okay, no peeking, alright?” you teased.

Jaehyun smiled, a playful glint flashing across his face. He nodded, giving you space as you sat down at the desk. The pen in your hand felt heavier than it should have as if the words you were about to write were more than just ink on paper.

Both of you wrote in silence, the soft scratch of pens filling the room. You tried to focus on your words, but your mind kept returning to Jaehyun. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you hadn’t yet admitted. But for now, this letter would be the way you could say it without speaking.

When you finished, you folded the paper carefully, sealing your thoughts inside. You watched as Jaehyun did the same. He didn’t look at you, but there was something about the way he held his letter that made your heart race.

He looked up, his eyes meeting yours. The playful energy between you had shifted, replaced by something deeper, something more serious. Without a word, Jaehyun reached out, taking your letter from your hands before handing you his.

"You look serious," you remarked, a soft hint of curiosity in your voice.

For a moment, you stared at the letter in your hands, uncertain, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you. Jaehyun’s voice broke the silence, softer than before, yet filled with an unmistakable certainty.

“I think we both know this is more than just a letter,” he said, his gaze unwavering.

You hesitated for a moment, then gently unfolded the paper. To your surprise, it wasn't the long, elaborate love letter you had expected from him, but a simple, heartfelt message. As you read the words carefully, a deep emotion stirred within you, each sentence carrying more weight than the last, settling in your chest like a promise you never thought you'd receive.

"Y/N, let me love you forever. Marry me"

Your heart stopped as you looked up at him, eyes wide with disbelief. There he was, the man who’d become everything to you, standing before you with all of his heart laid bare in front of you.

Jaehyun slowly took your hand, his other hand still holding his own letter, his voice barely a whisper. “Will you marry me?”

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The air around you felt thick with the weight of his words, his quiet question hanging between you like the most fragile thing in the universe. Your heart pounded in your chest, too fast to comprehend, too full to contain.

You stared at him, your breath catching in your throat as you looked into his eyes—those eyes that had been with you through everything, the eyes that had seen you at your best and your worst. And now, they were waiting for you to answer, waiting for you to take that leap with him.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “Yes, Jaehyun. I’ll marry you.”

The words felt like they had been waiting a lifetime to escape your lips, and the moment they did, a wave of warmth and relief washed over you both. Jaehyun’s face lit up with an overwhelming joy, his eyes sparkling, as though a burden he didn’t even realize he’d been carrying had finally been lifted.

Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close, his embrace tightening as if to make sure you were real, that this was really happening. You felt the steady beat of his heart against yours, and for the first time, everything felt perfectly aligned, as though the world had conspired to bring you both to this very moment.

Jaehyun pulled back just enough to look at you, his hand cupping your cheek tenderly. His voice, soft and full of emotion, slipped from his lips. “I love you. I’ll love you forever, Y/N.”

And as he kissed you, gently and full of promise, you knew that this was only the beginning of the beautiful life you would share together.

-- ˚˖𓍢ִ໋`🌿:✧˚.📷⋆𖧧 --

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Emergency room [S. R] +18

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 12k

Summary: Spencer forgot to mention that you're still his emergency contact. You wouldn't have had a problem with it if you weren't his ex of over a year and the hospital took you out of the bed because he had a car crash

contents: exes to lovers, car accident, hospitals, mention of injuries (nothing graphic), mutual longing, SMUT, porn with plot, a little sub!spencer if you squint, penetrative sex (p in v), vanilla sex

Maybe there is a mistake with the grammar and pronouns, I swear I checked it the best I could but surely something escaped me! Enjoy :)

The ringing of your cell phone snapped you out of your hard-won reverie a few hours ago, and you sighed audibly into your pillow before opening your eyes. The device was somewhere on the nightstand, so it was enough to reach out and feel the wood a little to take it.

Virginia Hospital Center. 

You hoped the caller ID was wrong, which was highly unlikely, and you swiped to take the call, wondering what it could be.

“Virginia Hospital Center, may I speak to Ms. Y/N Y/L/N?” With a shaky voice you answered in the affirmative and then the woman continued: "I am calling because you are the emergency contact on file for Mr. Spencer Walter Reid, who has just been admitted to the emergency room”

Hearing this, you jumped out of bed like a spring and felt how a chill ran through your entire body, a sign of the obvious panic that had just invaded you.

"What happened? He's fine?"

“He suffered a car accident and now he is being transferred to the operating room. It is imperative that you show up at the hospital so that you can account for any complications and can help us complete the information in his medical history."

The woman behind the phone was barely finishing saying that when you were already looking for your car keys and a decent change of clothes. You only took what you had in your bag before getting in your car and starting the engine to start the march, even with the adrenaline that you had coursing through your system. The hospital was a bit far away, so every time you accelerated too much you had to remind yourself that you could have an accident too, and then that would be the last straw. With that constant change of speed, you managed to get there in almost an hour, a little less than the time it would normally take, but still too long for your liking.

Somewhat agitated you rushed to the reception desk, where there was a nurse whose voice you recognized from the previous call. She had to reassure you a bit when you desperately asked her, almost with tears in your eyes, to tell you where Spencer was and what condition he was in. 

“What relationship do you have with the patient?”

“I am his…” Your breath caught for a moment, thinking about whether it would be correct to tell the woman the truth or not; In the end, you decided to lie to her "girlfriend"

You and Spencer hadn't seen each other, at least not physically, for a little over a year. You often saw him on the news, in one or another now-forgotten photo that fell by accident from between the pages of your books, or in the articles on the internet about the conferences he gave; but you had never dared to contact him to go out, just as he hadn’t called again. You thought that eventually, you guys would meet again even if it was by chance, but you never imagined that it would be under these conditions. 

“Can you help me answer a few questions?” she murmured and to each question she asked you answered almost mechanically. You were quite surprised that, even with the time that had already passed, you still remembered everything perfectly, as if it were your own medical information that you were providing.

The woman informed you, as kindly as she could be, that Spencer had already been in surgery for an hour and that when the doctor came out he could explain what had happened in more detail. You thought about the hit he had suffered to end up there and the anxiety of knowing if he was okay was eating away at your place in the waiting room, where you alternated between biting your nails and moving your leg up and down to calm down.

You wondered, meanwhile, why he still had you listed as an emergency contact. You knew he wasn't a person with many friends, but it sounded more practical for that position to be filled by someone he lived with more often, like Prentiss or Hotchner, not you. It wasn't the first time you'd been in a hospital with Spencer as a patient and you tried to remind yourself that those other times everything had gone well, but on those other occasions he'd always gotten immediate care because he'd been working or it was simple things like a cold that had become too bothersome. You wondered how far he had crashed, how long it had taken the ambulance to get there, how much pain he had experienced. You were really worried, until after half an hour that seemed like an eternity you heard the nurse call you and a doctor appeared next to her.

The first thing you asked, with a trembling voice, was if he was okay, and when you felt the doctor's soft nod you felt your soul return to your body. Then he explained everything that had happened in greater detail: Spencer had been hit from the side by a drunk driver who had entered at the same time as him and who, unfortunately, hadn’t survived. The surgery had been delayed because Spencer had a stab wound to his leg, dangerously close to the femoral artery and at risk of bleeding, as well as multiple pieces of glass buried deep in his torso, which punctured muscle and could damage vessels, nerves, and tendons. He had made the emergency call before falling unconscious and the doctor in front of you emphasized that if it hadn't been for the speed of the report things could have ended worse.

"Right now he is in intensive care, you can come in to see him until he wakes up"

"And how long will that take?"

“It varies from patient to patient. I can't give you an exact answer, but it won't be for another hour or two”

You warmly thanked the doctor for the job done and somewhat disappointed, but definitely calmer, you returned to your seat in the waiting room. You asked if you could stay there the rest of the night even if it wasn't on his side and the woman agreed. A little less upset, you searched in the hospital for a place to prepare coffee and after obtaining a well-charged one you waited again.

At some point you curled up in the chair and after an hour, and the fact that the coffee had no effect on you at all, you had already fallen asleep. Luckily your sleep was light, so you could clearly hear when a new nurse murmured your name and said that she would guide you to where Spencer was, who had woken up a few minutes before. During the walk down the corridor, she warned you that in intensive care only visits of less than an hour were allowed and when you entered the room full of stretchers protected only by curtains, she took you to one almost at the end, indicating that your patient was there.

You didn't go in immediately, because you needed to get some air first to gather the courage to do it, and when you finally did, a sea of feelings flooded you. Spencer looked fatigued and a little pale. His eyelids were closed and if it hadn't been for the heart monitor next door emitting soft, continuous beeps, you would have thought he was already in a better place. 

Carefully you approached a chair right next to the stretcher and once seated there you remained silent for a moment, until you felt the need to hold his hand as a way of comforting yourself, as if you were closer this way. Said action didn’t go unnoticed by the man, who, when he slightly opened his eyes, believed that his mind was vilely deceiving him, and a second later your name left his lips as a scratchy and confused whisper.

"Hello" was all you managed to say, holding back the tears that had already pooled on your lashes. "How are you feeling?"

“I feel like everything around me is spinning”

With a little more confidence, and so that he wouldn't strain his eyes, you approached the edge of the bed, still not letting go of his hand.

"The doctor said you really had a bad accident"

"The other man? He is…?"

"Dead" you completed in a whisper, completely admiring your friend's pure spirit that allowed her to worry about who caused him to be there "He was drunk when he hit you and they couldn't do much"

"Oh," was all Spencer said, with a genuine tone of pity. You didn't know what to say, or even what to do, you were just looking at him as closely as possible to reassure yourself that he was okay and with his whole body. Your hand hadn't let go and he seemed comfortable with it.

"Do you want me to call someone?"

"A doctor?"

"To a friend"

"They..." Reid still looked disoriented, as if he couldn't even remember the conditions in which he had the accident, and when he finally got his thoughts together, he looked back at you, "Why are you here?"

“I am your emergency contact”

It took him a moment, again, to process the words. When he was aware of the situation, he closed his eyes tightly as if he had done something terrible, and looked at you with shame.

"I'm so sorry"

"Don't you want me here?"

"What? No! Of course I want you here. It's just that I didn't want to bother you with this, I… I thought I'd change that information when I found a better candidate and I never did, so months went by and I… forgot. Well, I didn't forget, but I didn't want to change it because I didn't think it would be necessary and right now I think I should have discussed it with you and I never did, so I'm sorry. Are you upset?”

“Spencer, relax,” you exhaled gently, rubbing your fingers over the back of his hand “There's no problem staying here, I just want to know if you need me to call someone. They didn't let me stay here for long."

“Call Hotch. I want to let him know that I'm taking a vacation."

It was difficult for him to keep his eyes open continuously, probably from the remaining effects of the anesthesia, so you just nodded and did as he asked. Spencer listened to the entire conversation in which you explained what had happened and even answered some of his boss's questions himself, assuring him that he was as well as he could be after an accident of this magnitude. Aaron also promised that the team would visit him as soon as possible, and he asked you to keep in touch, with an odd familiarity that made you smile.

After finishing the call, you returned to your chair and leaned over to brush his hair off his forehead, taking the opportunity to caress his face carefully. Spencer, still with his eyes closed, smiled at the touch.

“You cut it” you observed “Are you still doing it yourself?”

"Yes, still"

You smiled at him and he smiled back, but neither of you said anything else. There would be time to answer questions later.

Although he seemed to be asleep, he was aware that you were by his side for another long time, and when you said goodbye you promised that you would return there as soon as you could.

The next morning, after taking a shower and calling work that you had an emergency, you kept your promise. Spencer seemed a bit more recovered on this second visit; his color had returned to his cheeks, he was almost sitting on the bed and could basically keep his eyes open for more than ten seconds at a time. The doctor had told you that he would stay there for observation for the rest of the day and once he moved to a general room you could be with him for as long as you wanted. For now, you would have to make do with that sixty-minute visit.

"Do you feel better?"

"Not really. But I'm not complaining, it could be worse” he replied, settling better on the bed and wincing.

“I told the doctors no… I asked them not to give you Dilaudid” you confessed, with a bit of fear of his reaction “No type of morphine, in fact. They told me that they could substitute another analgesic, but that you would feel a little more pain than you normally would. Still, I insisted. I hope you don't mind"

“The doctor told me. And I appreciate it,” he murmured sincerely. He couldn't describe the ease he felt when he found out about it, for he had been drug-free for too long to mess it up by carelessness. Luckily, he had you.

"How have you been, by the way?" you shyly exclaimed, taking a step closer to him "I don't mean right now, but... during this time"

"Relatively well" he replied, inviting you with his eyes to sit in the same chair you had been a few hours ago. In doing so you hoped that he would develop a more complete answer than just two words and then he began to relate to you some events significant enough to deserve a mention.

One of the things you'd always loved about Spencer was hearing him talk, whether it was for a minute or an hour. With other people he talked fast, afraid someone would ask him to shut up, but with you he always took his time. In his words there was no sign of spite towards you, even when you thought you deserved it, always showing the beautiful heart that he harbored in that chest.

“I have also been giving conferences more often and that makes me happy. Many of the people there don't understand what I'm talking about, but those who do always come up and ask me questions. Sometimes Emily or Rossi accompany me and other times I go alone. Oh, and I'm taking a PhD."

"Another?" you said surprised, although you didn’t doubt his ability.

"I've been kind of bored, if I'm honest" was his poor explanation from him. You wanted to remind him that no one went into PhDs just because they were bored, but he was a genius you were talking to.

You didn't dare to confess to him that you had been watching some of his labor movements, but just knowing again a little about the things that were happening to him made you feel good.

“Have you been alright?” he continued, looking genuinely interested in hearing your answer.

“I have been able to defend myself, yes. Do you remember when I told you about asking for a promotion? Well, it finally happened a few months ago and the extra money has been doing me good. I have a little more work freedom, too, and I'm considering moving”

“Where do you plan to move to?”

You explained some of the options you had in mind and after hearing each one he helped you learn about some of the pros and cons in terms of costs, services, and security in the area. You would have continued your talk if it hadn't been for a nurse coming in. She was the same one that had received you the night before and you smiled kindly when you recognized her.

"Good morning, how are you feeling, Mr. Reid?" she asked, as she maneuvered to change the IV pole bag.

“Better than yesterday, definitely”

"You don't have to worry, you will recover soon"

"I hope so" he smiled.

“You gave your girlfriend quite a scare, that's for sure,” she teased, nodding her head in your direction.

You tensed at that, and if you had been an ostrich, you would have buried your head in the ground. Spencer watched you from the stretcher with a little smile and answered something you didn't understand to the nurse. They exchanged another couple of sentences until she was gone, saying goodbye cordially to both of you.

"Did she misread the situation or is there something here I'm missing?" he asked you once you were alone, looking genuinely amused.

“Okay, I admit it, maybe I lied a bit last night. I thought they would have more compassion and trust in a girlfriend than an ex-girlfriend" 

"And your real boyfriend isn't going to be upset if you're here taking care of me?"

Ever since you met him you could say that if Spencer lacked a quality, it was subtlety and now he himself was showing it. You knew that there was enough trust for him to tease you like that, but you also knew that asking about your love life was some kind of revenge for having lied to the staff and so you decided to humor him.

"No, he isn’t very jealous to say. On the contrary, he is open-minded and right now we are trying to have an open relationship. You know, I see some people, he sees others, but we still have our thing."

Spencer's previously mocking expression immediately changed upon hearing you say that, having no idea how he would be wise to react. But you couldn't stand it for a long time and you burst out laughing, clarifying between laughs that you were only joking.

“Well, even so, it is likely that at some point in your life you could be in such a relationship, there are even those who think that it is healthy and mature when both people agree”

“It's not quite my style. I prefer safe monogamy or if the guy is very stupid, the sex without commitment for a single night” you laughed slightly.

The deadline for the visit had already expired and with all the sadness you had to say goodbye to him, promising that you would return as soon as he came out of intensive care.

“You've done a lot for me, but it's okay if at some point you're too busy to come, okay? I will understand"

"Don't talk nonsense" you exclaimed firmly, while you leaned down enough to give him a hug without hurting him. Suddenly a new concern invaded you and you felt that you had to ask him a question that you had omitted: "Unless you have a psycho girlfriend who is after my head, do you?"

"Do you think if that was the case, I wouldn't have mentioned it already?" he muttered obviously and now it was your turn to smile.

You didn't want a nurse to come in to get you out of there by force so you took your things and looked at your ex-boyfriend one last time to wave goodbye.

You always thought that when a relationship ended it was because either party had made a serious mistake: “I slept with your best friend”, “my family secretly hates you”, or “it turns out I'm still too in love with my ex to love you”. But when you decided to break up with Spencer, you found that that formula didn't apply to everyone.

Perhaps it was an unfortunate combination of situations, feelings, and problems that led to things simply stopping working overnight. You didn't know how to explain it, none of you, but you guys couldn't even kiss the same way you used to. Your work exhausted you, his work exhausted him, and in the end it was you who decided for both of us that things would be better if everyone took their own path. This isn’t to say that the breakup was less painful, it was just that the hope of being able to have a friendship after it made the grief more bearable. But none of you was able to forget what had happened to pretend to be friends and so, little by little, you stopped seeing each other. Over a year passed with neither of you discussing the silent breakup and, though you and he couldn't have known it, even your respective group of friends suffered a little from the pain of parting from a couple they'd swear would walk down the aisle.

That was why a part of you was guiltily glad that you could see him again and that things weren't at all awkward, like you always imagined they would be. It was your same Spencer, just a little teasing and with less hair, but other than that he had barely changed. He still had those kind eyes that once saw you as if you were the most beautiful person on earth.

You took advantage of the way home in your car to think about everything that was happening to you and for a moment you wondered if with Spencer's recovery all relationship with you would end up withering like a flower with the arrival of autumn or would be reborn as they do in spring. 

"I don't even know why we're playing, we both know you're always going to win" you complained, throwing your pathetic poker hand onto the bed sheet, as he laughed.

The hospital called you when Spencer was admitted to the general ward and you had stayed with him ever since. There was a television in the room, but you knew that he was not a big fan of technological entertainment, so before coming back you decided to take as many things as you needed so that you could kill time; a few books, a deck of cards, a book full of word scrambles and crossword puzzles you'd picked up at a newsstand on the way, and even a blank notebook that could do multiple jobs.

He would stay there for about a week (the doctor explained that it all depended on how fast he healed) and that morning you had gone to talk to your boss at the office to ask her for a couple of days so you could stay with him. You still had a week of vacation available and although he felt extremely guilty you insisted on staying there, after all no one from the BAU could leave their post for that long. In addition, urgent or essential things could be done from home and it was enough to connect for a couple of hours from your laptop to solve them.

Spencer hadn't told you, but he felt comfortable having company during his stay there. Hospitals weren’t his favorite places and having such a familiar presence comforted him.

"I'll let you win once if it makes you feel better"

"If you wanted me to feel better you should have done it without telling me, now I know you were just being silly" you huffed, shuffling the cards with both hands.

"It's all about math, it's really not that complicated"

“Why have you never thought about betting big in casinos? You're from Vegas, you must know a lot. And you could become a millionaire with it."

“It is illegal, in fact, and I am banned from casinos in Las Vegas, Laughlin, and Pahrump because of my card-counting ability. So sorry to disappoint you, but those plans wouldn't work."

“A wasted talent. What a pity” you sighed, starting to hand out a new game.

While you were doing that, a nurse came into the room carrying a tray with food and your friend's eyes sparkled, because being fed intravenously for a day and a half hadn’t been very to his liking. When he put it down in front of you, you noticed that everything looked appetizing considering it was hospital food, and after thanking the man he took the dessert and spread it in your direction.

“You don't like Jell-o anymore?

"Yeah, but I know it's your favorite," he added, shrugging and starting to eat the main course voraciously.

"I'm not going to take advantage of a sick person"

“You aren’t taking advantage. I'm giving it to you" with a smile you put the dessert on the nightstand, ready to return it to him if he wanted it later, and as seeing him eat your own hunger woke you up, you told him you'd go out for a moment to look for something.

You were surprised that across the corridor, at the reception, there was a group of people that you recognized immediately. Morgan was the first to notice you and had to turn twice to make sure his brain wasn't playing tricks on him. Then he motioned to Garcia, who was holding a bouquet of flowers and a balloon, and she waved her hand in your direction with a huge smile.

“Are you really who I think you are?” he asked, once they approached you.

"It seems so" you laughed, under the watchful and surprised gaze of almost everyone present.

The team greeted you with hugs, seeming genuinely happy to see you around and asking about the status of your mutual friend. You related all the medical details of the accident, the care they had taken and in the same way you told them that you had been there throughout the entire process.

"And how is he now?"

“He is fine, just a little sore. But the worst is over, the doctor says he will recover soon”

"It's a relief that everything was quick, I don't even want to think about what would have happened if the doctors didn't arrive on time"

"Do you think we can stop by to see him?"

"He'll be delighted, I assure you" you answered happily "He's in room 501, I'll come back to you as soon as I find something to eat"

Everyone thanked you and set out to find the room, except for Aaron who stayed in the hallway so he could talk to you.

"How has everything been?"

"Okay, as far as that goes," you smiled, arms crossed over your chest, "How's Jack?"

"Growing up" was all he said and you didn't need more to know what he meant "I just wanted to tell you that the plan is to stay here for a few hours, in case you want to come home and rest"

Although you didn't often see him, Hotch had always been particularly nice to you when you were the boy's girlfriend, and he had also tried to cheer the man up when he found out about the breakup: he was especially fond of both you and him.

“Oh, thank you very much for that, Aaron. I was going to go get something to eat, but I don't have much of an appetite for fast or canned food, so I could probably eat at home and come back."

"Do what you have to do. We'll be here,” he assured you.

"You're not going to ask Spencer to go back to work, are you?"

"I won't ask him, I'll be lucky if I convince him not to do it" you giggled to see that Spencer was still the same stubborn person as always, and you thought about whether it would be correct to ask your ex-boyfriend's boss a personal question. You had always seen someone strong in him, of course, but he also had a gentle and understanding part.

"He told me that he's been fine, but… has he really been?"

You wanted to hear from someone else how he had been, because you knew that it was likely that the chestnut omitted the bad parts of the story just to not worry you.

"I don't know what can be considered ‘fine' in Reid's life. He has kept up his spirits and as far as I know his mother is doing well. He doesn't drink, he doesn't smoke, and even though I've insisted on it, he refuses to see a therapist, but I guess he finds another way to deal with the problems. There have been bad days, but he always gets over it” you felt calm when you heard that and you nodded with a smile.

“He is always like that. It makes me happy that he has you"

"Sometimes he's not that happy" he sighed, probably with some important background for those words "But in the end it's like in all families, right?"

"I think so" you smiled bitterly. He was watching you carefully, trying to read your micro-expressions as much as possible. After all he was a profiler, that was his job. "Then I'll go home quickly and come back as soon as possible, okay?"

“Good luck, drive carefully”

"It was nice to see you again, Hotch."

Spencer hardly even noticed your absence with the bustle of his friends in the room and when you came back you were even wearing other clothes. During their visit you were just a listener to the funny stories everyone seemed to have and from time to time you answered a few polite questions from others.

You talked to them about your plans to stay there daily and you agreed that they would take turns helping you for a couple of hours each, when possible, so you would get some rest as well. Also, most volunteered to replace the amount of blood he had needed in surgery. All the attention had the man a bit dizzy, but still he felt lucky for the people around him.

The days went by and sometimes you smuggled in a snack that wouldn't harm your friend's health so he could eat during the afternoon. You had convinced him to see one or another movie, you had brought some yarn and needles for you to resume knitting lessons that had been forgotten for many years, and in general you could say that you had a good time with him. Chats with Spencer always felt natural so topics of conversation weren't a problem either, as he would be able to recite facts to you from memory as long as you guys didn't get bored.

The doctors came in frequently to check that everything was in order and every time you heard positive responses about the recovery process you felt calm.

You'd come home at night because Spencer insisted on it, but the next morning you'd leave your apartment as early as possible and spend the rest of the day there.

Although you didn't want to admit it, you were more and more convinced that those days by his side became the spark of happiness that your life needed. All the time was only yours and served to recover some of the lost things.

“Do you want me to read aloud to you?” he offered an afternoon and you put aside your occupations to accept the offer. You had gotten him a copy of The Narrative of John Smith by Arthur Conan Doyle because you knew he loved that book and that was the one selected for the activity.

Contrary to what many people thought, he was a great speaker and the sound of his voice brought to the surface memories that you thought were lost.

"What are you reading?" you had asked that night, after brushing your teeth and putting on your pajamas. Spencer spent at least 10 minutes reading before going to sleep, enough for him to devour an entire book, or at least a large part of it.

You assumed that his current reading would be something related to a case, but you were surprised to hear the answer.

"Alice in Wonderland"

"Why are you reading Alice in Wonderland?" you asked helpfully, as you slid under the covers into the space next to him and peered over the side.

“My mom used to read it to me when I was a kid and I wanted to reread it. It's a nice story"

"I have never read it. I just watched the movie"

"You are committing a sin. The cinema will never do justice to the original stories.”

"And why don't you read to me a bit?" you asked nicely, followed by a short kiss on the lips "I like listening to you and maybe you will help me fall asleep"

You carefully slipped in until you were comfortably recharged on his chest and when you were ready he complied with your request, beginning with the story he knew by heart.

Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it…

It became a habit and sometimes you guys wouldn't even finish the books because you always picked another one that seemed interesting, even if it was in a different language because you knew Spencer would translate it for you. It was those kinds of actions that allowed him to feel useful around you and thus show you how much he loved you. 

You had already read that book once, as you were also an enthusiastic Doyle fan, so he felt free to choose one of his favorite chapters. You didn't lie down as comfortably as you used to, but you still enjoyed reading, with a big smile to return to that habit of yours that you loved so much.

In the midst of everything you reflected that, perhaps, the love between you was something that had not completely disappeared, but rather a latent feeling that had now found an opportunity to appear.

Loving meant many things and if you didn't love it then you wouldn't be there at that moment, but somehow repeating an exclusive activity from your time as a couple made you miss that greatly. Spencer hadn't read to anyone else because he knew that was just yours.

This time you didn't fall asleep when he finished the chapter, but you kept looking at him the whole time, afraid that it was just a ghost in your memory that would evaporate in your hands as soon as you dared to touch him.

Luckily he was very real and inside that small hospital room, you could travel to the past as many times as you wanted without being disturbed. And for now, that was enough for you two.

A whole week passed and everything seemed to be going great. That day Spencer had convinced you to watch a Korean movie he had on DVD and you were about to leave when he cleared his throat to get your attention.

"Before you go, do you think you could do me a favor?" he asked. He could move a little better now and right now his feet dangled to the side of the stretcher, from where he watched you slightly nervous. You didn’t imagine what this behavior was due to.

"Whatever, what do you need?"

"I didn't ask before because... I'm a little embarrassed, to be honest," Spencer wasn't watching you speak and your brow furrowed in obvious confusion at that "But... I asked the nurse if I could take a shower now and she said yes, but I need someone to help me"

Your mouth opened with a soft oh and then you understood why he seemed so shy about the request.

“You don't have to do it if you don't want to” he added “I know it can be awkward, I just don't know who else to ask and you know it bothers me so much being so dirty. I hadn't tried it before because it literally hurt to breathe, but now that I feel better I think I really need it and I would really appreciate it if you… you know."

"It’s okay, Spencer," you replied, taking a few steps toward him, "There's nothing in there that I haven't already seen.”

“I will wear underwear, I don't have to be completely naked. You would just have to help me wash… some parts”

“Then why are you making this fuss? Let's give you that shower!" you laughed, sitting down next to him so he put his arm around your shoulders and you could help him up.

He was still having a bit of trouble from the leg injury, but the bathroom wasn't that far away and you managed to guide him there. The shower was surrounded by a plastic curtain, with a proper chair for patients and a hose with a shower head at the end. You helped Spencer into the chair and while you recovered from the effort you took a look around; there were some toiletries on a shelf that would surely do for him, and a white towel as well.

“Morgan brought me some new clothes and the nurse said we could ask the store manager for a gown,” he muttered, before you started doing anything. You took off your shoes and left them nestled to one side, always feeling his gaze following you.

When you noticed that he didn't take his eyes off you and was just there, sitting, you spoke:

“Should I help you take off your gown or do you take it off yourself?” there was amusement in your words and Spencer, as if taken from a trance, hastened to find the knot of the garment for himself. He was already wearing his underpants below and it only took him to get rid of the material so that he was half naked.

You hadn't seen his wounds until that moment and you couldn't help but wrinkle your face imagining the pain he must have felt. His stitches were still there but they were already healing and he would have at least four scars, plus one twice the size on the leg opposite where he had taken a bullet; that added up to five marks adorning his body. He was never an athletic person, but since he wasn't a very keen eater either he was able to keep himself in shape. Personally, you had always been attracted to him in every possible way, so his physique was never something that bothered you: thin, muscular, with some paunch, you were going to like him no matter how he was.

“Are you going to help me or are you just going to stare at me?” he countered, looking down at you with that expression you knew was the boldest thing he could get, and you snorted a laugh.

"Shut up"

You stretched to reach the shower head to warm the water, not wanting him to catch a cold and knowing that a warm shower would make him feel better because it would relax his muscles. Once it was at the right temperature, you wet his hair a bit and took shampoo in your hands to wash his head. He gave a barely audible moan as you began to massage his scalp and closed his eyes so he could enjoy your touch. Once you were done there you took a sponge and started cleaning his shoulders, torso, and back, trying to be as careful as possible. Sometimes you even let your fingers slip through the side of the sponge to touch his slightly tanned skin, as smooth as it had always been, while you gazed at those moles you'd kissed so many times. The first time you had sex with him, as you watched him in the twilight after the act, you had tried to study every part you could, from the little freckles on his back to the birthmark on his leg, and right now you felt like crying to see those little things about him again.

You were enjoying treating him like this so much and not to mention Spencer, who felt like he was in heaven to feel you so close to him. He could smell your perfume, a little worn, but still present after the whole day and from time to time he dared to look up to meet your face. And every time he looked at you, he remembered why he thought you were the most beautiful woman of all.

"You didn't have to give me the whole shower, you know?" he joked at some point, when you lovingly washed his hands “I just wanted you to help me with the parts I couldn't reach. But honestly, I'm not complaining about this."

Of course the two of you had ever taken a shower together, but it had never been anything like this. They were always things to optimize time, like when you were short of time to go to work or too tired to shower separately. This act was something different, something more private and delicate; it was too domestic. You were taking care of him and at the same time enjoying seeing him in such a docile position, peeking at you from time to time.

"I'm just doing an old friend a favor" you answered with a smile, although when you heard the words out loud it immediately faded.

An old friend. Was that what you were now? 

The place was silent for a moment, with only the sound of water dripping on the white tile floor.

"Did you ever miss me?"

His question had taken you by surprise and you remained silent before answering, trying to figure out what relation the question had to the situation. From the way he'd said it, you almost thought it was one of those things that burned in his chest and he'd needed to exhale.

"Yes, sometimes" you finally answered. He seemed satisfied with the answer "And you?"

"Many times," he laughed, a bit of guilt tinging his words.

A part of you wondered what he was trying to tell you with that: was it a confession… or a declaration? Ending the relationship had been imminent, and if you hadn’t done it that day you could have done it months or even weeks later, however, you weren’t going to lie in saying that you weren’t tormented by the thought of what would have happened if you had tried just a little longer. And that was accompanied, of course, by a tremendous feeling of nostalgia. You wanted to correct your answer and tell him that you had actually missed him terribly, all along, but you couldn't bring yourself to. And he, who couldn't read your mind, thought that he had simply bothered you with an out-of-place comment. 

"You can rinse off while I get a new gown, what do you say?"

Spencer nodded at the idea and then you walked out of there, your cheeks feeling strangely hot. What was happening to you? Did you still have feelings for him?

Maybe the real question was, have you ever stopped feeling something for him? 

It didn't take you long to get what you needed and you came back to find it wrapped in the towel. After he got dressed, you maneuvered in the same way to help him out, although now with the added problem of the slippery floor, and before long he was lying back on the bed.

"I feel much better now" he smiled at you. From the bedroom window you could see the night sky and then you realized how long it took you to shower.

"Do you want me to do something else?"

Your curt response wasn't because he deserved it, but because you were too confused to stay there any longer.

“No, everything's fine. Thank you very much for this”

"You're welcome" you smiled.

"Well... I guess you'll want to go now”

You still knew Spencer too well to know that that slight frown between his brows was a sure sign of concern, and you felt bad for speaking to him in the way you had. To atone a bit for your guilt, you approached him and sat on the edge of the bed, leaning against his body in a hug.

His body still felt warm and comfortable and just as if it had been made to fit yours. His arms held you firmly when he was finally able to react and you felt his chest deflate a little, as if he wanted to give you more space to feel close.

Time passed so slowly that you didn't even know how long you stayed in that position, just enjoying the closeness and his gentle hands rubbing your back.

"I like how you smell" you exclaimed in a low voice, fearing to break the tranquility of the moment and you felt his chest vibrate with a laugh.

“Did you know that your sense of smell is directly linked to the attraction you feel for a person? Your nose captures the pheromones that the opposite body secretes and if it considers it a good candidate to mate then it is pleasant”

"I think it's just the shampoo," you laughed. You turned your head up a bit and Spencer, by inertia, turned down to meet your gaze. "Although I wouldn't need to sniff you to know if I wanted to mate with you”

The joke had been so natural that you didn't measure the weight of the words until they left your mouth, and the worst thing was that the position you were in hadn’t been the most appropriate. You could feel his breath mixing with yours and it was enough to get a little closer to melt your lips in a kiss.

You had put yourself in that situation, as if your body was unconsciously looking for his own, and Spencer hadn't refused at any time. Just like how no one had forced you to stay with him all this time and you still had.

Your boss had been too permissive with the situation during that time, but you were sure that she would no longer be so if more time passed, so you would have to return to the office the next morning. And Spencer had at most two more days before the doctor released him.

And what difference did it make if you kissed him at that moment? Would you ever get a chance to do that again? You didn't have to think about it too much, because he was the one who started closing the distance; an inch, then another, until you felt your lips brush against each other. And he would have kissed you if it hadn't been for the unwelcome ringing of a cell phone that made you jump away.

"It's... yours" you stammered, handing him the old artifact that announced Penélope García's contact calling him.

While he was having a conversation, you didn't even look at him, but started packing your things spread out around the room so you could get out of there as quickly as possible. You could tell by the rush in the man's words that he could read your intentions and wished he could talk to you before you left.

"Everything's good. Thanks for calling, Garcia. Yeah, I love you too. Bye”

"Look the hour! I have to go, I'll go back to work tomorrow and I want to have everything in order" you said as soon as he hung up the call, waving your hands in the air as you spoke as a sign of your nervousness "I'll try to come back tomorrow, but... I don't know if work let me"

“Okay, you've already done too much. I'm fine now,” he assured you, giving a thumbs up with a tight-lipped smile. Even though you wanted to say something the words didn't come out of your mouth, so you just raised your hand to say goodbye and then you rushed out of there.

All the way home your mind was busy processing the feelings that almost kiss had evoked in you and, to be honest, they all ended in the same thing: the wish that he had cut the distance completely. That desire followed you when you showered, when you went to sleep, when you woke up, and all through the workday the next day. Minute after minute your mind could only think about him and what would have happened if you hadn't been interrupted by that call.

As you had feared, you didn’t have time to visit him at night and since you didn’t find the courage to call him personally, you only asked the hospital to pass on the message. You intended to see him a day after that, figuring that the matter would have been forgotten, but your plans were thwarted when Spencer called you to say that they had just authorized his medical discharge. He sounded calm and, of course, happy, when he told you that an ambulance was going to take him to his apartment.

"That's wonderful" you answered honestly. You were sitting at your work desk sorting out some documents, so you held your phone between your ear and your shoulder.

“I just wanted to thank you for everything you did. For all. I… I don't know what he would have done without you here. And you didn't have to, but you still did it. So, thanks"

"I already told you before, you don't have to thank me for anything"

"But I'd still like to," he murmured firmly, "Would you let me buy you dinner sometime?"

You were silent for a second, honestly confused by what he was asking. I mean, you knew what he was inviting you to, but you didn't know why. 

"Dinner?"

“Well, it's the least I can do for you. I have to use crutches for a while again, so we couldn't go out to a fancy restaurant or anything. It would just be us in my apartment, do you still like Italian food? Rossi taught me a great recipe and I think I cook decent enough.”

“Ah… yes, I would love to” you stammered. You thought that after his recovery you would not speak again and things would return to how they were before; but apparently Spencer had other plans.

"How about Saturday?"

“Sounds perfect to me” you breathed out, still a bit surprised and quite nervous about the proposal you just received. Even if it was merely friendly, you were happy to know that he still wanted your company.

Perhaps you had been too hard on him and on yourself by not allowing things to just follow their natural flow, holding onto the misconception that you and Spencer Reid no longer had romantic feelings for each other.

"I'll meet you here then, do you still remember how to get there?"

“If you have the same address, then I still do it”

"Good. I was just calling to ask you that. I guess you're busy working."

"Only a little"

"Well, I'll let you do it. Thanks for accepting"

"Thank you for inviting me"

You guys were silent for a moment and you wondered if Spencer was smiling the same way you were.

"Bye," he said kindly and after saying goodbye you hung up.

You were left smiling like a fool at the idea that your first date in a long time would be with the only man who years ago had been capable of stealing your heart and after taking a few minutes to process it you went back to your work, but not before pointing with circle the date on your calendar, like a teenager in love.

When the day finally came you made sure to look for a nice outfit before your dinner with him, holding yourself back from looking too excited. You rarely wore dresses but, if your memory serves you, he really liked how you looked in them, so you made sure to look for one that would accentuate your figure and make you look more youthful. You carefully combed your hair, put on just a little makeup, and came on your way to buy a bottle of wine. You still remembered the information that he had told you about which wines were best suited for each meal and although you still didn’t know about dinner, you brought a bottle that it presumed to be Italian.

When you reached number 23 on the second floor, you knocked on the door and after hearing a couple of noises, he finally appeared in front of you.

"Hey!" he greeted you happily. He was using his old crutches, had shaved off the facial hair that had appeared during his hospital stay, and was wearing a black apron with white lettering, which Garcia had surely given him, and which read: Kiss the cook. Please I'm very lonely “Come in, come in” 

"How are you?" you asked, stepping into the apartment and greeting him with a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“I’m okay, dinner is almost ready. I had technical complications because I didn't consider that cooking with crutches is more difficult than doing it without them, so I just hope it tastes good" he complained, moving deftly through the apartment to the kitchen "Sit down, I'll join you in a moment"

When he got lost in the kitchen you took the opportunity to take a look at the place. He kept having piles of books both on the shelves and stacked on the floor, on his desk, next to the chair. There were a couple of new artworks on the green wall along with the ones you'd helped him choose in the past, and picture frames everywhere: him with his mom, several with his co-workers (old and new). and you were surprised to see that even you had a space. The frame was smaller than the others, maybe to make it more discreet, but it was carefully arranged on the shelf that, by chance, or perhaps not, contained many of the books that you had given him.

"Do you need help with something?" you half screamed, hearing the crash of some pots and he denied in the same way. The air smelled delicious and your stomach rumbled with anticipation. After a few minutes Spencer was with you, both sitting in the brown leather chair where you had spent so many afternoons together.

“You just have to wait for it to cool down a bit and we can have dinner”

"I brought a wine" you murmured as you handed him the bottle. He examined it and congratulated you on your choice, telling you that it would go perfectly with the pasta he had prepared. "Are you still taking any medication?"

"Not anymore. The doctor prescribed me some things for the pain, but… I'm not taking them” he said, with a guilty smile on his face “I like your dress, by the way”

Hearing this, a satisfied smile spread across your face and you modestly thanked him for the compliment.

As he said, dinner was ready in a few minutes and you accompanied him to the dining room to serve a couple of dishes. Spencer seemed to have put an effort into everything, as he looked really exquisite and you didn't hesitate to compliment him on it even before trying it on. Dinner remained pleasant, with a couple of laughs, jokes and a flirtatious look that sometimes you weren't even aware of. Now that he had gotten rid of the apron, you could see that he was wearing a purple button-down shirt that you had always liked on him, because it fit in all the right places to make him look gorgeous. Besides, that color had always favored him.

Once you were finished, you offered him a drink of wine and he agreed, listing the digestive benefits the drink had for you. He asked if you wanted to go into the living room to be more comfortable and then both of you walked to the rickety chair, taking the bottle with you. Within a very short time the liquid in it was almost completely finished and both he and you became gigglier.

Unfortunately for you, with the laughter that came, your self-control also left. Every time he spoke you couldn't help but let your gaze slide to his lips, a little to be able to correctly understand the words that came out of it and another little just to be able to appreciate the pink color they had; they still looked soft, and you wondered if they would feel soft. 

You didn't know Spencer was aware of the struggle you had inside of you, as he kept talking, laughing, and just looking so handsome while you fell apart. After a couple of minutes, you couldn't resist it anymore. Your body was vibrating with the desire to have him, maybe because of the alcohol in your blood or maybe because he looked strangely attractive when he rambled on about his PhD research.

“Spencer” you stopped him suddenly. He looked at you with a hint of concern for having overwhelmed or bored you with his talk about him and you thought he couldn't look cuter that way.

"What's wrong?" he started to say, but the question was drowned out by your lips trapping his.

You kissed him fast but deep and all the weight of guilt fell on your shoulders when you looked at his reaction; he kept not looking at any specific point and breathing heavily through his mouth, totally petrified by what you just did.

"Sorry, I don't know why I did that" you stammered. You regretted it just because you made him uncomfortable, not because you didn't want to kiss him “I messed it up, didn't I? Are you mad at me?" you wanted to know, panicked, but now it was your words that were cut off by a kiss.

He wasted no time and taking advantage of your shock one of his hands came up to hold your cheek, while he leaned more in your direction. His lips tasted of wine and nostalgia, they tasted of an overflowing love that you had finally agreed to continue feeling for each other.

He kissed you so hungrily that he was making you completely dizzy and you only separated when it was absolutely necessary to breathe, repeating kiss after kiss. He lowered his other hand to your waist to try to get you closer and you, reflexively, climbed onto his lap. It was then that you guys really looked at each other; wet lips, messy hair, hot pink painted cheeks and completely agitated breathing.

"Uh, I..."

"It was too much?" you said fearful. His hands had automatically gone up to your waist, since that position was already quite familiar to him, and yours were on his shoulders.

"No, no. I mean… only if this is okay with you”

You could have told him you were sorry, but that would be a lie. You loved being so close to him, you loved that you finally had your courage, and you loved that he cared about what you wanted. And you were going to tell him, that's for sure.

"I am telling you the truth?" you gasped, carefully holding his face to force him to look you straight in the eye. They were the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen: "Right now all I can think about is how much I need you"

No more words were needed for what happened next. You melted into a kiss again and when you pressed your hip against his, he sighed against your mouth, feeling his crotch suffer the consequences of the heated kisses you were giving him. For a moment he wanted to feel sorry, but he knew better than anyone that you already knew perfectly every inch of his body and from the smile he felt on his lips he suspected that you were enjoying the heat in that area more than you should. It was satisfying to see that you still had that kind of power over him, where you barely touched him and he was already a mess. But you couldn't speak more highly of yourself, because when his hands went to your hips you felt like putty between his fingers.

"You want to…?" he started to say, but your insistence on kissing him barely left him thinking "Do you want us to go to my room?"

Spencer was afraid he was going too fast and scaring you with it, but he couldn't find another way to interpret the result of what you were doing. He just wanted you to be as comfortable as possible.

"Yeah, I think so" you answered in a whisper.

You got up from your seat and took his hand intending to help him up, until the crutches next to the sofa reminded you of the man's physical condition. Spencer looked at the hesitation in your eyes, but he didn't give you time to back down, because in one quick movement he was on his feet and crossing to the door that led to his room, ignoring any kind of pain he might feel.

Once there, he sat on the bed and pulled you towards him to continue kissing you. None of you bothered to turn on the light to continue what you were doing. You thought the position might strain him so you gently and carefully pushed him back to lay him flat on the bed. This allowed him to better knead the soft meat on your thighs and you rewarded him with enthusiastic kisses on his neck.

You separated a little until you were sitting on his hip and then you undid the buttons of his shirt. You made sure to gently kiss the wounds he had made and Spencer just sighed with each touch of your lips. A little needy to kiss you, he also stretched out his hands to your dress, asking with his eyes for your consent to lower the zipper and get rid of it.

The dress was left tossed somewhere in the room and you leaned in just enough for him to smear kisses down your shoulders and across your chest. You could tell that he was taking his time and that only increased your desire to have him, to feel him inside you and make you his as he had done so many times.

  “Y/N” he whispered against your mouth and you just hummed a nod “Darling, can you help me take off my pants?”

The nickname had come so naturally from his lips and had sounded so delicious that you had to suppress a groan. He called you that all the time, he was a very vocal man and it wasn't uncommon to hear him say those kinds of things. Both in bed and out of it. 

You did exactly what he asked and you took the opportunity to slowly pass your hand over the bulge in his crotch, hearing him let out the first moan of the night.

“Hey, do you have a… uh, some protection?” you asked timidly. You loved him and trusted him, but a baby wasn’t what you needed; at least not at that time.

"In the usual drawer"

As if no time had passed, you rummaged with your hand in the left side of the second drawer in the nightstand, until you found what you were looking for. Sudden and unwarranted jealousy swept over you as you wondered if he had invited other women to spend the night and if those others could find things as naturally as you had. No one knew Spencer as you did, you were sure of it, because he wasn't a man who opened up easily to others. And no matter how many people had passed through your life, no one would understand you as much as he did. 

Once you put the condom on, you took the opportunity to pump it up and down with your hand and the man's whining made you realize that he had really missed you. Both of you were trembling with anticipation, so with one movement you discarded your missing items and climbed back into his lap. Still a little fearful you looked at him and even in the middle of the darkness you realized the loving eyes on you.

“If it hurts just tell me and I'll stop. I know you're still delicate and I don't want to hurt you.”

"You would never hurt me" he answered and although you wanted to believe that they were limited to his injuries from the accident, you knew that it wasn’t so.

Those words carried more weight than you thought. They were a vote of confidence that he gave you over your entire person, not only his physical condition, but also his feelings and desires.

When you became one you groaned in unison and took a moment to get used to each other again. Your movements became soft, constant, and deep and he, unable to do more, just enjoyed that feeling.

After a few minutes, things went beyond the physical plane you were on; you realized that no one, ever, could make you feel what he did. You felt complete, whole and loved. You loved to hear everything that came out of his mouth and respond with an even more obscene sound. You loved that he knew the right points to touch and when to do it, you loved that he looked for your kisses in the middle of the act and you loved that being with him everything became so passionate and intimate. At that moment it was just him and you, no one else. As it always should have been.

After a while both bodies were already covered by a fine layer of sweat and your hands, small compared to his, leaned on his biceps to be able to move better against him.

"I missed this so much" you confessed, your voice muffled by uncontrollable moans "I missed you so much, you don't know how much I did"

He wanted to answer you, but the truth was that for the first time he had run out of words. He could only feel your body pressed against his and your boobs bouncing with each thrust.

There were certain gestures, movements, and sounds that told Spencer when you were about to arrive, so when he heard your erratic breathing and sensed your hesitation, he placed both hands on your hips to help you keep up.

At some point you felt the knot in your belly forming and you just let yourself be guided by it, anxious to feel the ecstasy exploding in you. It was enough to feel your walls pressing against him, your loud moans and a couple more pushes for Spencer to reach his own orgasm, wishing that the hot liquid had filled you instead of the barrier that protected you.

Your body fell against his, completely surrendered, and you felt his chest rise and fall as you tried to catch your breath. One of his arms, still clad in his shirt, slid around your waist and his lips groped for your forehead to place a small kiss. You were exhausted, but at the same time overflowing with joy, and he shed a single tear. Maybe because he had had a good orgasm in a long time or maybe because of the overwhelming reality that you had just made love to him.

For a few minutes you stayed like that, so peaceful and calm that you feared falling asleep in his arms.

“Y/N” he whispered, your name slipping from his lips so softly you thought you misheard.

"Yeah?" you inquired in a whisper. You two had always liked to talk for a bit after the sex rush wore off, as a way to keep things romantic.

"Risking to ruin the moment, can I ask you something?" he murmured and you rearranged yourself to face him to watch him. He looked so handsome, with dilated pupils and a flushed face, that you thought you might take him again right then.

"Whatever you want," you replied, gently brushing back the hair that had stuck to his sweaty face. You were drunk with love, he could have asked you to lower the moon and you would have done it without hesitation.

"What did this mean to you?" he added cautiously. You knew better than anyone that Spencer needed a certain security in things as well as people. The question would come eventually, though you thought you would have more time to think of an answer that would suffice. “It's okay if you say you just felt like doing it or that it was something that happened in the moment, I understand. I just... I don't want to get the wrong idea."

“And what would that wrong idea be?” you asked curiously. Suddenly he had become shy and just avoided your gaze without knowing how to respond to that, but you took him by the chin to force him to pay attention to you "Spence?"

“I don't want to have any illusions about you. If you don't see something in the future with me, that's fine, but at least I'd like to know."

They were not aggressive or demanding accusations; they were just sincere words with which he sought to protect his heart.

"I honestly don't know what's going to happen to us," you replied. A disappointed expression came over his face and you took him by surprise when you reached up a bit to kiss him again, but this time reassuringly and gently "But today I realized that you are perfect for me, in all the senses. And that I can never love someone like I love you. Does that answer your question?"

“I guess I feel the same way” he replied, but this time he was smiling slightly “And I know that we should have ended a long time ago, but… if your heart agrees, I think I'd like to start over. We were both in a bad situation back then, but now things could be different."

And of course they were going to be, because a part of you was convinced. You loved him, you had admitted it, and you knew he felt the same way about you. That was enough.

"I guess you're right. As always, Dr. Reid” you laughed, hearing his melodious laughter as well.

"For once, that makes me happy" he confessed and almost a second after that you heard him let out a weak moan that made you aware that you were pressing your chest against his still-fresh scars.

But to be honest, any previous signs of pain had been dwarfed by the pleasure of your body grinding against his.

"Maybe I should move" you apologized, but when you tried to, he didn't let you, instead tightening his grip on his arm against you.

"Don't do it” he begged you "Stay here just a little while longer"

For him, you could stay your whole life if he asked you to. Now you were sure of that. He was sure of that.

And now that you two had it back, you weren't going to let it go.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14

[bloodybloody]

Whumper who records the process while the experiment is occuring✨✨✨

Whumper is checking the equipment and medical devices after tying the whumpee down to the operation table. They gaze upon the camera, which is in the corner of the room, and start the voice recording. They plainly state the date, time, whumpee's number, which is determined by whumper when they are captured, and the experiment's subject. Then they inject muscle relaxants in order to hold the whumpee still.

Despite the medications they've taken, whumpee is in excruciating pain. They can't save themselves or even move; they merely cry and scream in pain. Whumper is unable to record their voice properly because of whumpee's wails, so they shush and calm whumpee down with comforting words, caressing their hair and holding their hand. Whumpee is barely fighting the urge to scream; all they can do is sob and whine while clutching whumper's hand tightly.

Whumper leaves whumpee immediately after finishing the experiment to examine the record while whumper is writhing. They notice whumpee's desperate but resigned gaze at them while watching the record. 

They thank whumpee for being a good lab rat while treating, headpating, and kissing them.

Whumpee watches whumper for a couple days studying the results of the experiment while they wait for whumper to finish their work on their knees. Whumper randomly asks questions about what they've felt in specific moments and makes them remember the pain they've felt, intentionally or unintentionally.