#Lab Instrument Carts

[dreaming-medium]

Watch Your Six

Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist

Sensory Deprivation - Han Jisung

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Word Count: 14.8k

Summary: After training for years, you finally become a full fledged agent for KDOI, the Korean Division of Intelligence. Over time, each and every agent becomes something like a family member, including the high-tech nerd who has managed to put a smile on your face since day one. What happens when he's sent with you on his first field mission?

Warnings: Violence, smut (18+) MDNI

A/N: Kinktober is a state of mind. I know its January idc lol I will finish the list of prompts even if it kills me

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Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. 

The sound your sneakers make on the treadmill reverberates through the gym. The expensive, high tech plastic mask strapped to your face fogs up with each exhale and clears with each inhale. 

To your right, a man holds a clipboard, glasses covered eyes watching your vitals displayed on the monitor hooked up to the mask and other various wires clipped to your body. 

You’ve been running for about an hour straight, but your breathing is still even; and just by glancing down at the screen, your heart rate looks the same. 

For months, you’ve been training with the federal agency to be one of their field agents. Countless nights were spent pushing yourself to the limit, physically and mentally. 

Today was your final evaluation before becoming a full-fledged agent. You were selected out of the hundreds of trainees to test to move on. 

It was a great honor, all your hard work was finally paying off. 

Maybe you’ll get your first mission after this! 

If you pass. 

A small bead of sweat drops down the side of your face. 

Bored, your eyes wander over to the man studying your every heartbeat. 

The thick rimmed glasses that sat on his face have slid down his nose a bit. His lips seem to sit in a constant pout thanks to those pudgy cheeks of his. 

Choppy, fluffy brown hair sits on his head like a mop. You can tell he’s run his fingers through it more than a handful of times to get it out of his eyes. 

A crisp white lab coat rests over a hoodie and khaki pants. A few different pens and instruments sit in the pocket under an embroidered ‘J’ .

You’ve seen him around the trainees once or twice in the years you’ve been here. From what you’ve gathered, he was one of the technical experts, providing countless gadgets and gizmos for the field agents to use. 

The guy that would give the secret agent a lipstick taser before embarking on their world class espionage mission. 

He’s pretty and smart— what a lethal combination. 

When the man looks back up at the treadmill, your eyes flick back to dead ahead of you. 

Reaching forward, he hits the stop button on the treadmill and jots down a few notes on his clipboard, a tiny smile pulls at his handsome face. 

The treadmill comes to a gradual stop and so do your legs. One hour exactly sits on the clock. 

Nervously, you look down at the screens, to his monitor, looking at anything you can. 

“You did extremely well, 586.” There’s a happy tilt to his tone while he scribbles down some more notes, flipping the page, then writing some more. “You can take the mask off now.”

Nodding, you gently take the mask off your face and drape it over the top of the treadmill. 

“I have one more examination for you.” He clicks a few buttons on the computer to the side.

Patiently, you stand there waiting for instruction. 

He looks up at you with amusement glinting in his big, brown eyes. “You don’t need to be so stiff with me, 586, that’s not part of the tests.”

Your shoulders relax and sag forward a bit. “Sorry, I’m just a bit nervous.”

“Understandable.” He grabs a hold of the cart with the machines on it and rolls it to the side. “Most, if not all, trainees are during their examination. I can’t remember a trainee that wasn’t nervous— well, maybe M, but he’s a special case.”

“Are you J?��� you ask, looking down at his lab coat. 

“I am,” he answers and steps closer to the treadmill.

He reaches forward and unsnaps the wires hooked onto the leads on your chest. The sticker part stays on, but the wires are removed. Which means you’ll probably be hooked up to another machine soon. 

“I’ve seen you around before,” you say to him, studying his face up close. 

“I’m always around everywhere,” he jokes, unhooking more wires. “I don’t think there’s a square inch of this agency I haven’t seen.”

“Are you a field agent?”

He scoffs. “No, not me. I could never handle that.”

“But you’re an agent.”

He moves his head side to side. “Of sorts, yeah. B needed a tech guy, so technically I’m an agent. But if you were to send me on a mission, I might cry. I leave those sorts of things up to C or S, or any one of the other agents. Just not me.”

You nod with a small smile of your own. 

“Follow me.”

Following his orders, you step off the treadmill and follow after him out of the gym. 

“Is there only one of each letter?” you ask.

J laughs. “Actually, yeah.” He leads you towards a side room, it looks like an interrogation room with a large contraption on the center of the table. “It’s easier that way.”

He motions for you to take a seat across the table. 

“And unless you fail this psych evaluation, I believe we’re going to be back to 26 again.” J starts fiddling with the machine, pulling wires and leads off the top. 

A happy pang goes through your heart. Thank god he hasn’t hooked up the heart monitor yet, he would’ve seen it skyrocket. 

“You think?” Nervously, you shift around in the chair. 

J chuckles. “I do. I haven’t seen a perfect exam like this in a while. Plus, we saw all the extra training you were putting in.”

Your mouth opens a bit in shock. J looks over at you, holding the wires ready to snap to the leads on your chest. 

“We have eyes everywhere, 586. Did you really think we didn’t see that?”

An embarrassed flush crawls on your neck and turns your ears red. “Of course, I know that.” 

Again, he chuckles and snaps all the wires to the leads. His fingers are warm in contrast with the cold air of the exam room. Each time his knuckles brush against your skin the feeling lingers. 

He places a strap around your head that has two metal leads pressing into your forehead. Even more wires from that strap lead down to the detector. 

J looks down at the wires and then turns on the machine. It whirrs to life and a needle starts scribbling out your heart rate on the top. 

It’s a lie detector. Of sorts. It looks like more than that. 

You’re not going to pretend to understand anything, though. That’s his job. 

His eyes watch the needle, he then reaches forward and clips a small cuff on your finger— a steady beeping follows it. 

“There we go,” he mutters to himself and takes a seat across from you. 

J shuffles papers around on the clipboard to rearrange them. 

A large mirror sat on the wall behind him. There’s no way that’s not one way glass. Is there anyone on the other side watching your evaluation? Or is it just the two of you? Is there another higherup keeping track of your answers? Maybe it’s B? Or maybe other agents are spectating to see how you are. 

You would be working closely with them, after all. If the roles were reversed, you’re sure you would watch. 

“Ready?” J’s voice interrupts your thoughts. 

Your eyes snap to him and you nod. 

“Is your name Y/N L/N?” he asks, looking down at the clipboard. 

It’s been so long since you’ve heard your real name. Two years? Yeah, two years. You’ve only been referred to as 586 since you joined. 

“Yes.” 

J looks at the contraption for a few seconds, taking note of the way it moves. He makes a small tick on the paper. 

“Can you verify your date of birth for me?”

You do as he says, saying it like second nature. Again, he repeats the same motion of watching your heart rate and making a small tick. 

The questions start out simple. Where were you born? What are your parent’s names? Do you have any siblings? All questions that you would make a security question for your bank. 

“Now, let’s get to the real questions. Just answer honestly and you have nothing to worry about, okay, 586?” J’s voice is calm and smooth. 

Something about this guy makes you want to tell him everything regardless of if you’re hooked up to several machines. 

“Have you ever been contacted by an external government agency prior to enlisting in KDOI?”

KDOI: The Korean Division of Intelligence. Your dream job since you were a young girl. 

“No.”

After your answer, J watches your heart rate for even longer than before. He makes a tick on the clipboard. 

“Have you ever been contacted by an external government agency after enlisting in KDOI?”

“No.”

Another tick. 

“Have you ever participated in an organized event that openly opposed KDOI?”

“No.”

Tick. 

“Have you ever had malicious thoughts about KDOI or the agents working within it?”

“No, quite the opposite. I admire KDOI.” You add the last part with a sheepish smile. 

J grins when he makes the next tick on the paper. 

“Next section…” he murmurs. “Have you recently had thoughts of suicide?”

“No.”

Tick. 

Question after question comes from his mouth. You answer honestly to each of them, not even hesitating to let the reply leave your lips. 

“Did you have thoughts of suicide prior to enlisting in KDOI?”

“No.”

Tick. 

“Do you ever have thoughts of harming others?”

“No.”

Tick. 

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“N- what?” Your eyes widen and you stare at him incredulously. There’s no way that’s on the evaluation. 

J feigns ignorance and points down to the clipboard. In exaggerated movements, he motions down to it and shrugs, puffing air in his cheeks and just making a meal out of this fake performance. 

“I can’t believe it either but there it is. ‘Do you have a boyfriend?’” 

You tongue your cheek and smirk a bit. “No, J, I do not.”

J nods and scribbles down more than just a tick while looking at the heart monitor. “Interesting…” 

He makes a few last notes before his eyes widen and he looks up at you, pointing his pen in your direction. “No girlfriend either, right?”

You roll your eyes, “No, no girlfriend either.”

Isn’t this an official evaluation? For a government official secret organization that grants people a license to kill? 

He asked you if you were single immediately after asking if you’ve had thoughts of suicide. Is this guy for real?

You slow blink at him while he finishes up the form on his end. 

“Well!” he exclaims happily, hitting the clipboard on the metal table. You don’t even flinch. “I believe we’re all finished here.”

Your heart squeezes with nerves. 

J stands up from the table and rounds the table towards you. 

So badly you want to ask for the results of your exam. Are you in? Did you pass? Are you an agent?

“B needs to sign off on all the paperwork,” J trails off, his hands reaching forward to unhook all the wires from the leads stuck to your skin. “But… I don’t think there’s any issue with me welcoming you to the agency. Officially.”

Since the heart monitor was still hooked up, you can hear the needle suddenly spike and scribble large peaks on the paper. 

J turns his head to look at it. An amused smirk crosses his face and a chuckle huffs through his chest. “Funny,” he says to himself and then turns back to you. 

Sheepishly, you look away from him. 

“That’s what gets your heart rate to spike?” J sits on the corner of the table and folds his arms across his chest. 

You bite your cheek and avoid his eyes. “Well, this has been my dream job since I was a young girl; so, yes, you alluding to me becoming an official agent would raise my heart rate.”

J scoffs. His warm fingers suddenly grab your face, thumb on one cheek and his middle and pointer finger on the other. He turns your head to face him.

When your gaze snaps to his face, you see that there’s a cocky smirk on his face but his eyes are focused down on the heart monitor. The needle stays steady much to his obvious distaste. 

He sucks teeth in disbelief. “Really?”

“Is this another test?” your voice comes out muffled due to him holding your cheeks. 

J rolls his eyes with a frown. “Yeah, let’s go with that.” He releases your face and slides the strap off your head.

The leads on your chest are soon to come off after that. J is careful not to rip the sticky pads off your skin too fast so that it doesn’t sting. He rubs the site with a bit of rubbing alcohol afterwards to get rid of the residue. 

“How long have you been at the agency?” you ask. You’re curious about him. 

He defeats all the ‘Secret Agent’ stereotypes. He’s personable and warm— and a bit flirtatious. He’s not at all the cold, all-business type you were used to. That’s how more than half the trainees were. 

It’s not that you were cold, no. You just kept to yourself and worked hard. 

And you made sure your personality didn’t fade during that time either. 

J’s nose crinkles up while he thinks. His hands slow down in the process. “Hmm,” he hums. “Maybe four years now? Yeah, sounds about right.”

Your eyes widen. “Four years? How old are you?”

He smirks. “Don’t you know never to ask a young man his age.”

“I guess if you’re not going to tell me…” you trail off. “I’ll just say twenty eight then.”

“Twenty ei—!” he stammers and takes the last lead off your chest. “I’m twenty two!”

“Wasn’t so hard was it?”

J grumbles and turns around to finish putting the machine away. But there’s an amused tilt to the corner of his puffy lips and a playful glint in his eye. 

“So you started when you were eighteen?”

“Yep.”

“Child prodigy?”

“Taken right from high school.”

“Impressive.”

J laughs under his breath. “Everyone seems to think so.”

“You don’t?”

“Eh.” He shrugs. “Everyone here is a prodigy of some sort. It’s easy to blend in and somehow appear mediocre when surrounded by Korea’s most elite minds and bodies.”

“I don’t think you’re mediocre.”

“You haven’t met everyone else yet.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer again. J grabs your clipboard and takes the papers off it, handing them to you. 

“Bring these to B, he has to sign off on the final enlistment.” You take the stack from him. “The guard outside the door will bring you up to his office.”

You look down at the papers, your heart rate picking up faster and faster the more you think about it.

J puts his hand on your lower back and ushers you towards the door. It tingles at the base of your spine. He reaches in front of you and opens the door, motioning for you to exit first. The hand on your lower back twitches and it feels like he almost scratches it twice before urging you forward and dropping it. 

It’s weirdly comforting. 

It doesn’t feel weird at all. 

You turn back to look at him, “Thank you, J.”

He smiles. Those round cheeks get even bigger when it happens. 

“Welcome to KDOI, X .”

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Two years goes by in the blink of an eye when working with a government agency. Especially when a majority of your assignments can take anywhere from a week to two months at a time. 

The agents you work with are the only constant in your life. Other faces flitter in and out of your life like leaves falling off trees. You don’t grow attached to anyone outside of this organization, you can’t afford to. 

You’re not complaining, not at all. You love the life you have now. It’s everything you ever wanted. 

Everyone at KDOI is a family, you’re all each other has. It’s an unspoken, special bond. 

When you first started, you were welcomed in with open arms. Obviously, some agents were warmer than others at first— or maybe it’s just that some were better at first impressions than others. 

Maybe other people would have been upset with M’s standoffishness when you first introduced yourself. But, after a hot coffee appeared on your desk not even five minutes after complaining about being cold to him and only him, you knew he wasn’t detached and icy at all. 

Other agents, like F, have been nothing but a ball of sunshine. He was the one you ate lunch with every single day while you were at the agency. Whilst sitting by yourself in the cafeteria on day one, he took it upon himself to plop himself in the seat right across from you. 

H is your favorite agent to go on long assignments with. He never fails to be a constant source of entertainment and intelligent conversation— with the occasional stupid ass comment that makes you question where the man you were just talking to went. 

Slowly but surely, you’ve also started learning their real names. Learning someone’s real name was apparently the equivalent of leaving you in their will around here. 

There was a time and place to refer to them as their real name. It was a line you tiptoed constantly. 

Surprisingly, it was M who told you his name first: Minho. It was completely unprompted too. It was in the jet returning from a three week mission where you had saved him from at least five different gunshot wounds by tackling him to the ground. 

The others trickled in afterwards. 

Y, or Jeongin, was shocked when you didn’t know his name. And immediately told you afterwards with a cute, wide smile on his face. 

Even though every single agent has become a part of you, one particular agent seems to have captured a larger part of your soul than the others. 

“J,” you say casually, slipping behind him to stand on the other side of his cluttered workbench. 

Jisung. He had told you his name when you had lingered in his workshop late one night, not wanting to go back to your dorm quite yet. 

“Hello, X,” he grins without looking up at you. The glasses on his nose have fallen forward.

His laptop is his primary focus, several wires are running from the computer to a tiny little gadget that looks no bigger than a cell phone. It has a small LED screen with different colored pixels bouncing around it. 

Jisung’s workshop was one of your favorite places in the agency. There was always music playing, a computer always had some sort of TV on silent with the subtitles on, and there were always snacks everywhere. 

You consider it a second dorm, really. As soon as you’re done training for the day, you usually find yourself here.

“When did you get back?” he asks, clicking a few keys and looking over at the gadget, then back to his computer. 

“Maybe two hours ago?”

“And it took you this long to come say hi?”

“I had to shower.”

“ And you didn’t invite me?” his cheeky smile gets bigger. 

You smack the back of his head, the glasses fall even more. You’re surprised they don’t tumble off his face.

If one thing has remained constant since your exam day, it’s the relentless flirting. The guy can’t go more than five minutes without saying some sort of teasing comment. 

It should bother you. 

But it doesn’t. 

At this point, you’ve gotten quite used to it. If he ever stopped, then you might be a bit concerned. You might even miss it. 

But you would never tell him that. 

Jisung makes a tiny ‘gah’ noise and rubs the back of his head in fake pain. He pushes his glasses up his nose and looks over at you. 

“I missed you so much and the first thing you do is hurt me,” he whines. 

“I wasn’t gone that long.”

“Two long months without my girlfriend.”

“ Not your girlfriend.”

He clutched his chest through his baggy black hoodie. “Another wound.”

You cross your arms and giggle a bit. “Well get used to me not being here. B is sending me on another assignment tomorrow.”

Jisung frowns. “I know, he asked me to be at your debrief tomorrow morning.” He lets out a whine. “You just got back! Usually you’re around for at least two weeks in between missions.”

Shrugging, you look around the room. The digital clock on the wall read 10:29 PM. He’s usually the only one in here past 5:30, he tends to lose track of time easily when working on projects. 

“It’s part of the job,” you say casually. 

Jisung grumbles again, looking down at his laptop once more. “Yeah, well it sucks. Everyone’s always coming and going. Meanwhile I’m stuck here all day every day.”

“I thought you didn’t do field work.”

“I don’t . I just also hate that I’m trapped here while everyone gets to travel with one another.”

You narrow your eyes. “You do know we’re not sightseeing, right?”

Jisung balks. “Of course I know that.” He pauses. “But I did see that picture that you and Changbin took at Buckingham Palace.”

You bite your lip to stop the smile. “Not my fault it just so happened to be by our hotel.”

“Bang said if we had a Christmas card he would use that picture.”

The smile you’re fighting gets even bigger. You hesitate before speaking up again. “It’s a good picture.”

Jisung’s head drops and he places both of his hands on the table. “See what I mean?” he groans. 

“Just tell Bang that you want field work.”

Jisung’s head shoots up and he stares at you with wide eyes. “I would die in the field!”

“You would not. One of us would be there to save your hide. You really think Minho would let you die?”

“I think he would load the gun himself.”

A laugh bubbles up in your chest. Uncrossing your arms, you turn around and lean against the table. 

“Ji, we would make sure you were safe if you were to come out in the field with us. It’s our job.”

“Your job is to carry out the mission.”

“I wouldn’t give a damn about the mission if your life was on the line.”

Jisung’s mouth snaps shut. His eyebrows fly up his forehead. 

The two of you stare at each other for a long moment. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his knuckles turn white from gripping the counter so hard. 

His Adam’s Apple bobs with a gulp. 

You shouldn’t have said something like that, shouldn’t you? Your job is to carry out government missions. Personal feelings should never be put first, you know that. 

So why did you say that?

Fuck, you shouldn’t have said that. 

The shock on Jisung’s face quickly morphs into a cocky smirk. It’s a mask. You can see in his eyes he’s still a bit shocked. 

“I knew you were in love with me.”

Groaning, you roll your eyes and push off the table. “I’m going back to my dorm to sleep. Goodnight, J.”

Your hand slides to his lower back and you scratch twice over his lab coat and hoodie. 

Ever since your exam day, the two of you do this small gesture to each other all the time. It could be when he passes behind you in the cafe line or comes up behind you in the training room. It’s such a tiny, personal gesture. 

Sometimes on the coldest nights in the field, you’ll find yourself aching for that small touch.

“You’re so head over heels in love with me, X!” he calls after you, again, clutching at his heart and overacting like he’s swooning. 

“I’m leaving!”

“You just got here!” he whines. 

“Bye.”

“I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you walk away, X!”

“Night!” you repeat, letting the door shut after you. 

You walk down the hallway of the agency with a goofy smile on your face. 

“Idiot,” you mumble to yourself. 

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B’s office was at the very top of the large building, the windows overlooked the entirety of Seoul. Everything inside the office exuded money and power. The wood of the bookshelves was black and sleek and always dust free. 

Inside the office was so large there was an entire sitting area with two sofas and two loveseats around a coffee table. 

There was always a bergamot candle burning on a side table there. 

It was just about 10 AM when you stepped inside. 

“Ah, X, thank you so much for coming in.” B stands up from his large desk chair to welcome you in. 

Bang Chan, the leader of KDOI, and the most unassuming man you’ve ever met. When you brought him your final exam paperwork that fateful day you thought you were in the wrong office. 

This whole time you were expecting a wrinkly old man, not a twenty-something with dimples. 

But, at this point, you’ve learned to not be surprised by anything anymore. 

Maybe you were surprised at the fact that the other man in the room made no move to even look at you. 

Jisung sat in the other chair in front of the desk, his face sheet white. Both of his hands are gripped in tight fists on top of his pants. 

Your warm smile fades from your face as you take in his ghastly expression. 

“What’s going on?” you ask. 

Chan’s lips form a tight line as he motions to the chair for you to sit in. “I was going over your next assignment with J before you got here.”

“Apologies, am I late?”

“No, not at all. I had J come in a little early to talk to him one on one.”

You glance over at Jisung who looks like he hasn’t even blinked. Alarm bells are going off inside your head. Not even a nod in your direction?

“What’s this assignment about, B?” You look back to your boss. 

He slides a manilla envelope across the desk to you, you take it without a second thought. Chan picks up a tiny remote off his desk and presses a button. Shades slowly come down over the window, bathing the room in darkness. Another beep on the remote and a holographic screen projects from the floor next to the desk. 

Both you and Chan turn your chairs to go over the debrief, Jisung stays still. Part of you wants to snap your fingers in front of his face to see if he’s still alive or not. 

Instead, you focus on your job. 

“I know you’re used to more recoup time, but I’m afraid this assignment is pretty urgent.” Chan clicks the remote. A grainy CCTV picture is displayed on the screen. “The international gang you’ve been dealing with lately, the Ice Crows, have shown their face again.”

Chan zooms in on the image. Several higher ups of the gang are getting out of a black SUV. They’re all dressed in fancy suits smoking cigars. 

The last time you dealt with them was about five months ago when their trail had gone cold over in Canada. 

“When and where was this taken?” you ask. 

“Yesterday. Paris. Where you and J will be headed after this.”

Your head snaps over to look at Chan. 

With Jisung? No wonder the guy looked like he was eight inches from death!

Your eyes slide to the engineer, he’s still staring forward. A cold sweat on his brow. 

“J is coming with me?”

Chan points your attention back to the debrief. “Allow me to continue.”

You spare one last look Jisung. The poor guy is shaking in his boots. Your hands itch to reach out and comfort him, but you have to remain professional. 

That’s for after the debrief. 

“There’s an auction being held at the Palais des Congrès. Several large and important pieces are being shown there. Including…” Bang switches the slides and displays an expensive painting. “The Refuge, which was stolen no more than two months ago by the Ice Crows. They’re putting it up for auction when it belongs back in Korea.”

Your eyes narrow. “This seems like a pretty rookie cut and dry assignment, B. You need me to get the painting back. I don’t understand why J has to come with me, he doesn’t do field work.”

The conversation the two of you had the previous night echoes in your mind. 

B nods. “I know. Let me get there, X.” He switches the slide to display the floor plan of the museum. “This convention center is rather high tech, as you can see. It’s equipped with blockers that don’t allow any outside waves to make it past their walls. Any and all technical communication has to come within the building.”

“So, you’re sending J with me because he’s the only one that can operate field equipment? S can operate simple transmitters and trackers.”

“It’s more than that, X. The painting will be behind several different firewalls and security systems that not even S can hack through. J needs to be with you and he needs to be in that building.”

You take a deep breath and look over at Jisung. His hundred yard stare has moved from the window and is now focused down on his lap. 

“He’ll be in your hotel room the entire time. You’ll be doing the recon and walking through the convention center to get where you need to be.”

Jisung pulls his lips between his teeth. His body finally came back to life. “I won’t need to leave the room?” His voice is hoarse. 

“No,” Chan answers quickly. “Not until you’re leaving to come back home.”

Jisung shifts on his chair, unfurling his fists and swallowing thickly. 

“I understand your apprehension, J, I do. But I need you on this.”

Jisung watches him closely and then offers a weak nod. He glanced over at you. 

“I wouldn’t put you with X unless I was sure that she would watch your six.”

You nod and steel your expression. “I won’t let anything happen to you, J.”

Color returns to J’s cheeks at your words. He gulps and takes a deep breath, his shoulders rolling back and remaining stiff.

“Okay,” he says softly. “Okay, I’ll do it.” He’s more confident the second time. 

“Good.” Chan clasps his hands together. “Stay safe, agents. Amusez vouis bien!”

---------------------------------------

You and Jisung were the only ones inside the cabin of the agency’s private jet. It took off the runway only about four minutes ago. 

The brunette sat across from you, his eyes focused out the window at the clouds below. His posture is anything but relaxed. He’s sitting ramrod straight in the large cushioned chair. 

You don’t think his muscles have released since you both were in Chan’s office. Even through the thick layers of his comfortable traveling clothes you can clearly read his uneasy body language. 

“You okay?” you ask gently.

“No,” he mutters back. Duh.

You bite the inside of your cheek, completely unsure of what to do or say. This was never a part of your training. Maybe you should’ve picked up a copy of ‘ Comforting Friends for Dummies ’ when you had the chance. 

Killing targets? Easy! 

Provide detailed surveillance on a suspicious person? Done! 

Soothe an anxious friend? Not so simple. 

Jisung’s cheeks seem even puffier than usual, lips pursed in a pout. There’s no sparkle to his eyes like you’re used to. 

Taking a deep breath, you lean back in your seat and look around the plane. You crack your knuckles, displaying your own nerves. 

“Do you know the best part of staying at hotels during missions?” you ask him to break the silence.

Jisung hums in acknowledgement, he continues to watch the clouds below. 

“You get to order all the room service you want— it comes out of the agency’s card.” You smirk. 

He shifts around in his seat. His hands that were tightly gripping the armrests relax a bit. 

“Last assignment I was on with Hyunjin, we were in a seaport town, the hotel made these bacon wrapped scallops… man… I ate so many I thought I was going to explode.” You pat your stomach. 

Jisung finally looks at you. “Bacon wrapped scallops?”

You nod and smile at him. “You’ll be in the room the entire time. Think of all the room service you’ll get to order.”

“I’ve never had bacon wrapped scallops.”

“It’s Paris, who knows what they’ll offer there. And it all goes on Bang’s card.”

Jisung finally smiles. It wavers for a second, like he’s sheepish to do it. It’s paired with a breathy chuckle. He looks down at his lap and lets his body fall forward a bit, elbows resting on his knees. 

His knee bounces anxiously and the exhales he lets out are shaky. 

“God, Y/N,” he sighs, rubbing his face. “I can’t help but freak out.”

“Understandable.”

“It’s my first time out in the field.” 

“I know.”

“What if something happens?”

You roll your eyes. “I would be more surprised if something didn’t happen, Jisung.”

His head shoots up. The color drains from his face. His pouty lips part a few times like he’s trying to find the right words to say. 

“But I’m prepared for it, Jisung.” You lean forward, mirroring his posture and take his hands between yours. “I’m prepared to take care of whatever pops up to keep you safe, okay?”

His jaw clenches and he stares deeply into his eyes. The hands in yours are so warm in stark contrast to your always-cold ones. 

“And if anything terrible happens then I’ll do whatever it takes to get you out of it. Trust in me, okay? I have to take care of KDOI’s resident nerd, after all.”

“Resident nerd…” he scoffs.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Did I ever tell you what happened on my first mission with Minho?”

Jisung shakes his head. 

“It was supposed to be easy! The intel that KDOI had gotten was that there was going to be a large drug exchange somewhere in the States, Minho was sent with me. And my lord, our intel was off.”

Thinking about the memory makes you giggle to this day. 

“It was an international, high profile cartel that Bang has been trying to nail down for years. Well, during a small scout, I got my ass captured. I wasn’t watching my six like I should’ve.”

Jisung’s eyes widen. Obviously, he wasn’t told about this. It’s not like you enjoy flaunting the story around. 

“I had a gun to the back of my head, the leader of the cartel was screaming for Minho to come out from where he was hiding or he’d kill me. God, I’ve never been so afraid in my life. My first assignment and I already had a gun to my skull.

“Minho, being the amazing agent he is, found the right vantage point and took the guy out. I was able to evade the crossfire after that, but honestly those bullets weren’t what scared me, it was the idea that Minho was disappointed in me.”

He was the agent you looked up to the most after all. He was the one that all these great stories and tales were all about. Minho was the harrowing hero of KDOI who was able to ace every mission handed to him. 

“But he didn’t even say anything about it. Even when I apologized over and over again, he just shrugged and said it was part of the job. And I get it now. It is just part of the job. So don’t worry, okay?”

Jisung swallows once, chin dipping down with a stiff nod. He turns his hands around in yours to grasp your fingers. 

A playful smirk creeps up on his face. “I can’t believe it…”

Your head cocks to the side and you watch him closely. He’s studying your manicured nails, his thumbs swipe over the digits softly. It’s a tender movement. 

“What?” you ask. 

“I can’t believe how in love with me you are.”

You rip your hands out of his and swat forward just as fast. 

With a barking laugh, he moves out of the way of your slap. You swing again and again, each time his laughter gets louder and louder. 

“First last night, now this? Are you going to propose to me next?”

You know this is just his way of evading thinking about how scared he is, but if that’s what it takes to make him feel better, you’ll allow it. If a distraction is what he needs, then you’ll give it to him. 

“Love hurts!” he cries out when you land a solid smack on his arm. “They were right!”

“It’s going to kill you, that’s what it’s going to do.”

---------------------------------------

By the time you and Jisung get to the convention center and check into the hotel it’s nearing seven at night. The gala isn’t being held until tomorrow, so you both have some time to relax and settle in. 

It leaves Jisung plenty of time to set up everything he needs inside your hotel room.

You both checked in without a hitch, getting your keys and practically falling into the room. Jet Lag is pulling your eyelids shut and weighing down on your chest like an elephant.

Flicking the lights on, you blink your bleary eyes a few times, staring down at the large bed sitting in the middle of your hotel room. 

One king sized bed.

You’d love to say this hasn’t happened before but you never know what to expect on missions. There have been places where there’s been one bed, two beds, bunk beds , and even separate bedrooms once or twice. 

On one occasion Hyunjin slept on the floor since you were only given one twin sized bed and you were not about to share that tiny space with the man who likes to spread out all of his limbs and hog the blanket at the same time.

So, at this point, you don’t even care if there’s only one bed.

You shrug it off and plop your bag next to the dresser and let your body fall back onto the plush mattress with an ‘oof!’

Jisung, on the other hand, hovers around the doorway, both hands still gripping the two rolling suitcases full of his equipment. “I can sleep on the pull out couch,” he says thickly.

“Ji, it’s fine, we can share a bed, we’re both adults here,” you tease him. “As long as you don’t put your cold feet on me, I don’t care.”

“I don’t have cold feet,” he grumbles and wheels his suitcases towards the small table on the other side of the room. 

You let your eyes slide shut on the bed. The gentle hum of the air conditioner already lulling your brain to sleep. With how exhausted you are, it wouldn’t take much for you to give into the pull anyway. 

Jisung opens up the suitcases and starts unloading every piece of technology that he has brought with him. Various wires and computer parts thud against the wood of the table. 

He stops for a second.

“And how would you know if I did have cold feet?”

A laugh is punched from your chest at the abrupt question. It’s a deep belly laugh. “Let’s just say there is a loose lipped agent among us.”

Jisung pauses. “Minho said he wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“He wasn’t going to until I started teasing him about his purchase of fuzzy socks.”

“You were with him when he bought those?”

“I helped him choose between two different pairs.” You crack one eye open to look at him. “The purple pair was my idea.”

Jisung groans and slides his laptop open, the typing on his keys is a lot more aggressive. You giggle again at his outward display of frustration.  

You let your eyes close again, listening to him shuffle his things around the wooden table muttering in between movements about how his feet aren’t that cold, they’re just colder than the rest of his body. 

An easy smile finds its way on your face and you listen to his quiet ramblings until sleep finally washes over your tired mind. 

---------------------------------------

“You were right,” Jisungs voice says in your earpiece. “Room service is fucking awesome.”

A waiter with a tray full of champagne flutes passes by, you grab one as he strides by your side. 

“I told you,” you say quietly while bringing the glass up to your lips to take a sip. “What did you order?”

“I think the better question is what didn’t I order.” His mouth sounds full when he answers you. 

He’s up on the 14th floor of the convention hall while you’re downstairs at the gala in a sleek, red silk dress. Your hair and makeup done exquisitely well, beautiful silver heels match the diamond jewelry adorning your skin. 

You blend right in to everyone around you. 

“I heard that their oysters are fantastic.”

“I think that’s part of what I ordered.” You can hear several dishes being pushed around. “Yep, right here. Although, they don’t look as appetizing as I thought.”

“They’re not really a lounge snack.”

“For rich people they are.”

The mission started about an hour ago when you made your way into the main event hall. The auction for the painting is going to begin in about another hour. 

Your first task of the night is to locate the painting before the auction and place a minuscule tracking device on it to locate later once it’s sold. 

There was only one way you knew to get close enough to The Refuge. 

“Oh. Three tables back to your 8 is your first target of the night, X.”

Paternino ‘Pink Panther’ Cardi. One of the Ice Crows inner circle members. He can’t resist swiping whatever paintings he can get his grimy fingers on; but, he also can’t resist bragging to an attractive woman. 

You turn nonchalantly to find him already eyeing you up with dark eyes. 

He’s your typical mafia member. In fact, if you had to draw a cartoon of a mobster, it would look like Paternino. 

You hold his searing eye contact while taking another sip from your champagne. The mobster lowers his chin and lets his tongue dart out to lick his lips. 

At first, seduction wasn’t a part of the job you particularly excelled at. But after doing it for so long, it comes naturally. 

Batting your lashes, you smirk at him and then turn to walk towards his table, your hips swaying in the process. Maybe you exaggerate your movements a bit, but it has the exact effect you need on Paternino. 

He’s sitting at a large round booth all by himself, legs spread wide in a show-of-power manner. A large swig of whiskey is taken out of his glass before you get to him. 

“Don’t you know that a beautiful woman such as yourself deserves a better drink than the venue provided champagne?” He motions to the booth seat next to him. 

You place your glass on the table and slide gracefully next to him. The effort you put into this is going to need to be quick, you don’t have long to locate the painting. 

“And I suppose a handsome man like yourself knows just what to order a woman like me?” Your voice is coy and seductively low. 

In your ear, you hear Jisung take a tiny, shaky breath. Does he know the intercom is still activated on his end?

Paternino slides towards you a bit more so now you can smell the expensive cologne wafting off him. It’s almost too overpowering. 

“A woman like you, hm?” He rests his arm on the booth behind your shoulders, lifting one hand to signal a waiter to come by. “Look into my eyes, let me see if I can guess your drink of choice.”

You rest your chin on top of your folded hands, your elbows resting on the table. His eye contact is intense and vivid, it makes your skin crawl. 

Paternino hums again. “A sapphire martini.”

“Nope,” Jisung says with a chuckle. 

You give a tiny, fake gasp. “How did you know?”

“I know a woman with taste when I see her.” He takes another swig of his whiskey while staring at you. “A sapphire martini for the lady.”

There must have been a waiter next to the table. You fight the urge to turn and look, instead opting to look at Paternino through your lashes. 

“Your turn, Beautiful. Why don’t you make an assumption about me?”

“I assume you’re an asshole with a tiny dick.”

Humming, you scoot even closer to Paternino, your fingers come up and walk up his chest to come around his tie. 

“I think,” you whisper lowly, coming closer to his own face, forcing your eyes to look down at his lips for a split second then back up at his eyes. “That you’re a powerful man around here, and that you don’t take no for an answer.”

His lips curl up in a cocky smirk. The arm that was previously on the booth, comes around your shoulders. His fingers feel clammy on your exposed skin. 

“Very observant, my lady. Anything else?”

The sound of a glass being delicately placed reaches your ears. You reach out and grab the martini glass without looking, bringing it closer to you.

“No, no, it’s your turn.”

He smiles. You’re so close to his face you can hear his exhales, smell the whiskey on his breath. 

You sip your own martini. God, it’s awful. You hate martinis. 

Paternino slides a finger underneath the spaghetti strap of your dress. “I think you would look gorgeous without this in the way.” He tugs on the strap. 

“Zero out of ten. Horrible pick up line. Try again.”

Jisung’s snarky words in your ear are oddly calming to your racing heart. He keeps bringing you down to Earth.

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing about your clothes.” You tug his tie. “The auction doesn’t start for some time. How about you show me somewhere private we can go and we can see if both of us are right.”

“Uuuuggghhhhhhh…”  

“I like that idea, I know just the place, Beautiful.” Paternino slides out of the booth and holds out his hand, which you grab a hold of gingerly to stand up and be led away from the main gala floor. 

---------------------------------------

It takes five minutes for Paternino to lead you to the room where The Refuge is being stored. It only takes you ten seconds to knock him out cold with one solid hit to the back of the head. 

His body hits the ground like a sack of potatoes in the dark storage room. 

“Fucking finally,” Jisung groans in your ear. 

“Sorry, it was the only way I knew to get back here.”

“That was torture, X. I’m never doing this again.”

You roll your eyes and pick up Paternino’s ragdolling body under the arms, dragging him across the room and stuffing him inside a storage closet with his arms and legs tied together and duct tape over his mouth. 

“Now, which one is The Refuge?” you mutter looking around at all the art around the room. There’s sculptures, painting, glass blown pieces, everything you would see in a museum. 

“I wonder if The Refuge is the only stolen thing in here?” 

Sighing, you walk around the room, trying to recognize anything. “Probably not. But it’s the only one we know about.”

You find the painting eventually sitting at the very back of the room covered by a large sheet. When you walk up to it, you take your earring out of your ear and slide the back off— which is where you were keeping the tracker. 

You tuck the tracker in the back of the painting between the canvas in the wood. It wouldn’t slip out nor would anyone notice. 

“Perfect.”

“I can see it on the map still, you’re all good. Now get out of there.”

“Anyone coming on the cams?”

“No, you’re clear.”

You take your other earring out and throw it in the garbage can by the door. They were fake anyway and you don’t feel like looking like a freak with one in. 

---------------------------------------

When you returned to the event hall, people were taking their seats for the auction, so you followed suit. Grabbing another drink from the bar before you sat down. 

“Vodka tonic?”

“Always,” you say under your breath. 

You watch the bartender make your drink with close eyes. 

Now you just needed to wait until the auction was over to get the painting back. Your job was half over. 

Through the earpiece, you can hear knocks on Jisung’s hotel room door. 

“More room service?”

“I… I didn’t order anything.”

Alarm bells go off in your mind. “Don’t answer it.”

Jisung stays silent for a few moments. You’re no longer watching the bartender, you’re focusing intently on what you can hear in your ear. 

“J.” You state, trying to get an update from him. 

“I think they’re gone.”

Before you can even think about being relaxed there’s a loud bang on the other side of the intercom and Jisung shrieks from surprise. 

“X! X, they’re in the room! X!” His voice shouts into your ear. 

You’re already running out of the event hall, your dress hiked up in your hands.

“J, there’s a gun strapped to the bottom of the table, use it!”

You can hear gruff voices screaming at Jisung not to move, that they’d kill him if he even twitched a muscle. 

“X, there’s five of them.” He whispers quietly. 

“J, listen to me, stay calm, I’ll be there in five minutes.” You burst through the stairwell and start climbing two at a time, even in your heels. The elevator would’ve taken too long. “Do what you need to stay alive, fuck the assignment. Stay alive.”

“X.” It’s a whimper and it stabs you through the heart. The yelling gets louder and louder. 

Jisung begs for mercy. You can hear the desperation in his voice, it pushes your legs to move faster and faster up the stairs. 

“Si—“

The earpiece goes dead after a gunshot. 

Your knees wobble and you lose your momentum. 

Oh my god, no, fuck, please. 

Reaching out, you grab the railing to keep your balance on one of the landings. 

“J?” you scream. “J, can you hear me?”

Nothing. Not a single voice comes through. Not even static.

Maybe they just shot the equipment. That has to be it. They didn’t shoot him. They wouldn’t. Right?

You steel your nerves and launch yourself up the remaining steps. By the time you reach the 14th floor, you’re not even winded. 

The long hallway is colder than the stairwell. You take off sprinting towards your room, sharply rounding the few corners that you come across. Right before your own stretch of hallway, you slow down to a walk. It kills you but you have to do it. 

In the distance, right in front of your room, you see two large men in black suits standing guard. They take notice of you immediately. 

“What are you doing up here, ma’am?” One asks as you walk closer. 

“My room is up here, honey.” 

He looks to his partner and then back at you. “Turn around and walk the other way.”

“Why?” you ask, only about ten feet away. 

“Just do it, sweet cheeks.”

Your eyebrow cocks and before he can react, you walk up and throw a sharp right hook into his jaw. The bone in his face cracks and he stumbles down onto the ground. 

His partner yells in surprise and starts fumbling for his gun. When his hand raises to shoot you, you grab his arm and aim his weapon down so when he discharges it, it shoots right into his partner. 

Then, you pull his arm so he falls forward into you. You swing the heel of your palm upwards right into his nose. With your free hand, you reach down and grab the tiny pistol that was strapped to your thigh. 

Before the second goon could recover, you shoot him right in the head. 

The sound of gunshots obviously alerted the remaining three gang members in the room. Two of them come barreling out into the hallway with their weapons drawn. 

Immediately, you shoot the first one in the head, he hits the ground before he even knows what hit him. The other gang member yelps in shock before you shoot him too. 

Within two minutes there are four bodies in the hallway.

Carefully, you walk into your hotel room, keeping your back against the wall and your gun cocked.

“Shut the fuck up,” a gruff voice says roughly. 

Jisung said there were five of them. The fifth must be the one holding him hostage.

Quietly, you inch closer and closer to the corner of the wall. Once you turn around, he’ll be right in front of you. 

You gulp and take one deep breath before coming around the corner, gun pointed forward. 

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” That same deep voice calls out. 

Your heart drops. 

Another typical looking crook is pointing his gun at the closed wardrobe doors in the corner of the room. 

Where is Jisung? Where is he? Is he in the wardrobe? He has to be inside the wardrobe. 

“Why don’t you drop the gun, sweetie.” The mobster says darkly. 

You stay still with the gun pointed at him despite his words. The trigger seems to burn your finger. It's aching to be pulled. 

Is Jisung in the wardrobe? Is he in there and you can’t see him?

Or is this guy trying to pull a fast one on you to get you to drop your weapon? 

Fuck, is Jisung in the wardrobe?

“I said drop the fucking gun.” He moves to pull the hammer back of his own pistol and you don’t hesitate even for a second. 

You pull your own trigger. 

He drops to the ground with a bullet wound directly in his head. 

You sprint across the room and rip open the wardrobe doors. 

Empty. 

It’s empty. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you repeat under your breath frantically. You blink your eyes over and over again hoping that he would suddenly appear. 

You even go so far as to open and close the wardrobe door three more times, each time more frantic. 

“Fuck!”

Where the fuck is he if he’s not inside this room? 

The equipment on the table has a bullet hole through Jisung’s main laptop but no blood anywhere near it. But his glasses are. They’re lying on the floor with a crack through one of the lenses. 

Did they move him to another location? He doesn’t have a tracker on him like you do.

With a yell of anguish, you turn and kick the dead mobster at your feet. His limp body rolls over and his jacket pocket falls open. 

A hotel room key tucked inside the pocket catches your attention. You crouch down and pick it up.

‘1833’ is written on the back of the key.

It’s not a great lead, but your legs are running out of your hotel room before you even think twice. Obviously they moved him somewhere else to lead you into their trap and it didn’t work. Not with how well you were trained. 

You burst through the door leading to the 18th floor, heeled shoes sprinting down the hallway towards where room 1833 would be.

As soon as you’re in front of the door, you click the hammer back of your gun and hold it out in front of you, swiping the key in the handle with your free hand.

The lock clicks open and you push the handle down slowly, trying to cause the least amount of noise as possible. All of the lights are off inside of the hotel room, save for one lamp. The yellow glow radiates on the wall.

There’s no noise.

Everything is completely silent save for the quiet hum of the air conditioning pumping through the room.

Until you hear a sniffle, a huff, and then another sniffle. 

Inching across the floor, you slide your back against the wall like you did previously, listening for any more key sounds that would alert you that there are more people inside the room.

Taking one last deep breath, you round the corner and point your gun forward.

Even in the dark you know exactly what you’re seeing. 

In the middle of the room stood Han Jisung; his hands tied together with a rope coming from the ceiling, a blindfold around his eyes and earplugs shoved into his ears. From here you can see the wetness from his tears being absorbed by the blindfold. There’s a gag tied around his mouth muffling tiny sobs.

You don’t allow yourself to fall victim to false security, you look around the room closely, making sure no one else is lying in wait for you to fall into yet another trap. 

No other soul is inside this hotel room with you.

Dropping the gun onto the bed, you cross the room towards Jisung as quickly as possible.

He must sense another presence in front of him, his entire body stiffens and another louder sob is swallowed by the gag. He backs up away from you as much as his restraints allowed– which was next to nothing.

“Jisung,” you say in relief. “Oh god.”

Without thinking twice about it, you reach around and brush your hand on his lower back, scratching twice. 

Jisung’s chest heaves with another sob, even through the gag in his mouth, you can hear him whimper your name. His entire body relaxes and he falls towards you, the ties on his hands tugging even more. 

You reach up and yank the gag out of his mouth. 

“X,” he rasps with a dry tongue. “Oh my god please say it’s you. I-I can’t hear anything— fuck, Jesus. Thank god you’re alive, oh god.”

You scratch his lower back again, looking at the restraints. How the fuck were you going to untie that knot? 

Jisung’s tongue darts out to lick at his dry lips. His weight leans into you as much as he can. It must’ve been horrifying to be tied up like this, he couldn't hear or see or scream for help. 

Gingerly, you reach up and cup both of his cheeks so as not to startle him. Even with how gentle you were, he still jumps in shock. 

“Everything happened so fast,” he rambled. “They shot out the laptop so the communicator was fried. Next thing I knew I had a bag over my head and I was being tied up.”

Using your fingers, you push the blindfold up his face to rest around his forehead. 

Jisung’s big, brown eyes blink and squint a bit before focusing on you. He searches all over your face, taking in every detail as if you’re a glass of water and he’s been crawling through the desert. 

His eyebrows pinch together and he gulps. 

“God, I’m always glad to see you, but now I’m really glad.”

You laugh under your breath, the stress from just the last thirty minutes alone lifting off your shoulders. 

He’s okay. 

Jisung is okay. 

Using your hands, you wipe the tear tracks off his puffy cheeks. God, he must’ve been horrified. 

He’s probably never going to go out into the field again. You look up at the restraints, analyzing the knot closely. You’re going to have to cut him down, there’s no way you’re untying that. He’s secured to a pipe that runs across the entirety of the ceiling. 

“You know,” Jisung starts. His voice already has that teasing tilt to it. “If you wanted me tied up this badly, all you had to do was ask, baby.”

Your eyebrows twitches. Mr. Humor-Is-My-Coping-Mechanism decides to show his face now of all times, huh? 

Slowly, you look down from his restrained wrists to his dark eyes. A smirk is already plastered on his face, his lips still wet from licking them.

“You must want me so bad, hm?”

With your own crooked smile, you tongue your cheek and make a ‘huh’ noise, it puffs through your chest. That’s how he wants to be, huh?

He can stay tied up for a little longer then. It’s not like anyone’s coming into this room nor do you have anything to do until after the auction. 

Really, you have nothing but time to kill!

You take a step backwards away from him and cross your arms over your chest.

His eyes widen when you distance yourself from him. “Wh…” His cheeks puff a bit as his lips purse in confusion. Jisung tugs on the rope still around his wrists. 

You cock your head to the side and stare at him with one lifted brow. 

The bed behind you dips down under your weight as you sit down on the edge. It gives you a perfect vantage point to watch Jisung grow more and more confused as to why you’re not cutting him down yet. 

Slowly, his ears start turning red, the flush crawls across his face and down his neck, disappearing into his black hoodie. 

“X,” he says hoarsely. “Aren’t you going to cut me down?”

You shrug, knowing no matter what you say, he’s not going to hear you. If he wants to tease you, you can tease right back. 

The gun on the bed beside you is picked up in your hand. You nonchalantly click the safety on and toss it to the side again.

He tugs even harder, the ropes chafing his wrists a bit. You watch as JIsung’s Adam’s Apple bobs with a gulp. The blindfold is pushing his bangs up in wild directions.

The helpless look on his face shouldn’t be making your blood pump this way. Excitement shouldn’t be tingling at the base of your spine from the power trip you’re getting from this. This is only teasing between two best friends, nothing more. 

It’s just teasing, right?

Right?

You cross one leg over the other, leaning back on your hands. The plush blanket underneath your fingertips feels cool and soft. It’s a complete contrast to the way your skin is heating up under Jisung’s desperate gaze.

“Aren’t you going to…” he trails off. Several times his eyes flick from yours down to your exposed leg. When you had crossed them, due to the slit up your dress, the entirety of your leg was exposed to the cool hotel room air.

“Going to what?” you ask him, exaggerating the movements of your mouth for him to understand. 

Jisung gulps again while watching your lips. He squints his eyes closed and tries to take a steadying breath in through his nose, his chin tilts back a bit.

You allow your gaze to wander down his body a bit. He’s always in relaxed clothing, including now. An oversized black hoodie draped over his shoulders with gray sweatpants on his bottom half.

Gray sweatpants that you now notice seem a little… tight .

Oh.

It seems as though you’re not the only one whose thoughts seem to be a bit… derailed. 

When you look back up at Jisung, he’s staring at you with slightly glassy eyes and a heaving chest. Nervously, his tongue comes out to lick his drying lips again. 

A tight band of tension stretches between the two of you; you can practically feel it connecting your bodies together. The hair on the back of your neck stands up.

Is he thinking the same thing you are? Is he allowing his mind to wander the way that yours is?

Slowly, you uncross your legs and stand up from the edge of the bed. 

Big brown eyes flick down to watch the movement absentmindedly, his lips part and a shaky exhale leaves them. 

Your hips sway from side to side with each slow step you take towards Jisung. 

The eye contact he makes with you is sharp; his thoughts being conveyed through them. He wants you, and he wants you bad. It’s like he’s practically begging for it with those brown puppy dog eyes. 

And you’ll be damned because you want it just as bad. 

There’s only so much of his teasing that you can take. Only so much desire the dam within your heart can take before it bursts. And right now, with how high your adrenaline has spiked, nothing is stopping you.

The last two years of nonstop flirting is taking its toll on your self control.

Licking your own lips, you look up at Jisung, a shaky breath coming out afterwards.

Your fingers come up and grab the blindfold that’s still around his forehead and tug it back down over his eyes.

“ Fuck, ” Jisung murmurs. Your face is so close to his you can physically feel the words splay out onto your own lips. 

With the gentleness of a butterfly landing on a flower, you brush your lips against his. Jisung immediately brings his face closer to yours, smashing your mouths together even more. 

A sensation you can’t quite describe washes over you. It has the same level of completeness that you had felt when you became a full-fledged agent; like you just did something that the universe has been waiting for you to do.

His pouty lips start moving against yours faster and faster with more urgency, like he can’t get enough of you, like he’s experiencing the same emotions that you are. Were you the piece he always needed too?

Both of your hands begin to explore. You cup his cheek with one while the other grabs at the front of his hoodie. He’s leaning into you so much that the ropes holding his wrists squeak as they tighten and rub.

With a teasing smirk against his mouth, you take a tiny step back. This way he wasn’t able to reach your lips but could still feel the heat from your body in front of him. 

A tiny whine leaves his throat as soon as you pull away. You watch as his lips chase after you just to be stopped by the ropes.

“Y/N,” he whispers, pleading. You lightly tap his cheek twice.

Pulling the collar of his hoodie to the side, you let your mouth hover over his neck. 

Since he doesn’t have sight or hearing, all of his other senses are on high alert. Jisung feels your warm exhales so close to his skin and squirms around, little noises leaving the back of his throat. 

You tease him more and more by letting your deep breaths fan over his flushed skin but never actually letting your lips actually meet with his neck.

Jisung pulls and pulls on the restraints, each exhale driving him insane. 

When your lips finally meet his neck, a long mewl exits his own wet mouth. His head tilts to the side to give you more access. Greedily, you let your mouth explore his soft skin. 

His hips buck forward into yours, his hard length grinding into your hip to bring himself some relief. Jisung whines again at the sensation.

At the same time, you open your mouth and suck down where his shoulder meets his neck. His body tenses up and his head tilts back in pleasure.

“Jesus, fuck,” he curses, grinding into your hip once again. “Oh, god. Shit– please, fuck, Y/N.” His incoherent babbling only increases in pitch and frequency the more you run your tongue up and down his neck, never going lower than the collar of his hoodie would pull or higher than his jawline. 

You let your free hand travel up to thread in his soft, chocolate brown locks of hair. You scratch at his scalp a few times, letting your nails drag along his head. A low moan emanates deep within Jisung’s chest, it almost sounds like a purr. His head leans back into your touch. 

“Oh my god,” he murmurs. Every noise that comes out of his mouth is louder than you expect thanks to the earplugs. “Y/N, please– oh fuck , kiss me again, please, oh my god, please, Y/N.”

Pulling away from his neck, you capture his lips in the middle of his babbling. The rest of his words are swallowed by your own mouth. His tongue darts out from his mouth to lick at your lips and coax yours forward.

Your own moans slip between kisses, Jisung can feel the vibrations against his mouth and they drive him absolutely wild. His hands ball up into fists; he wants to touch you so bad. 

“Y/N,” he says your name in between kisses. “Please, c-cut me down.” Your kisses travel down to his jawline. “I want to– Fu-huh-huck! ” You bite down on his neck harshly, sucking a bright purple hickey underneath it. 

Jisung rolls his hips into yours. You can feel how absolutely rock hard his cock is through his sweats. 

“N-Need to touch you. Hah! I’m going insane, Y/N.”

Begs sound so good coming from his lips. 

You run your hands down his chest to tease at the hem of his hoodie before sliding them underneath the fabric and up his bare chest. The muscle that greets you underneath it is a pleasant surprise.

The hard lines of his abs and chest run along the pads of your fingertips. He flexes and tenses under your touch.

Jisung throws his head back with a groan, his weight shifts around on his feet. It feels so fucking good . Every single touch to his body is heaven sent. 

At the top of his chest, you curl your fingers and rake your nails down his skin.

The wail that tears from his throat makes your heart rate pick up ten fold. It sends a lightning bolt of pleasure through your body. 

“Oh my god, please do that again! ” Jisung begs, his mouth hanging open as he pants over and over again. It seems like he can’t catch his breath. 

Who were you to deny him?

With a featherlight touch, you let your fingers trail up, up, up his body. The closer you got to the top, the faster Jisung’s breathing picks up. 

Right before you curled your fingers again, you smash your lips together in another searing kiss. When you claw down his quickly reddening skin, his cry is swallowed up by your own mouth.

You don’t stop your fingers on their downward descent, you tease the waistband of his sweats, letting your fingers curl around the top of the band and touching the taut skin underneath.

“Ah, hah.” Jisung pants into your mouth. He leans forward and sucks on your bottom lip, pulling it back for it to snap against your teeth. “I want to touch you so bad, Y/N, please .”

“Be patient,” you say against his lips. He doesn’t hear it, but he feels it. A pathetic whine responds to your words. 

You kiss his lips a few more times before dropping down to your knees in front of him. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes out. “Oh god, oh my god.”

You grab his legs with both of your hands starting at the knees and run them up his thighs, taking your time on your ascent. 

“Fuck, fuck , this is really happening.” Jisung gulps. He pulls harder and harder on the ropes. 

When your hands reach the top of his thighs, you run one closer and palm his erection over the top of his sweats. A deep, guttural moan is Jisung’s only response. Even through his sweats you can feel how his cock twitches in your grasp.

His hips buck into your hand when you squeeze him. “F-Fuck, I– Oh god– This is really happening and I can’t even fucking see it .”

You smirk. Maybe you should show him a small bit of mercy. Just a small amount. 

Leaning forward, you kiss his cock over his sweatpants. Jisung gasps and twitches again.

You stand up quickly, coming nose to nose with him. Your hands come up to cup his cheeks, they’re so warm from his flushed face.

“Y-Y/N,” he gasps. You peck his lips, letting them linger on his while your hands come up to his ears to take the plugs out. “Y/N,” he repeats on your lips.

“Hi, Jisung,” you breathe against his mouth before kissing him again, letting the earplugs drop to the ground.

You don’t linger for too long, you kiss down his face, down his neck, and then you fall to your knees once more.

“Jesus, Y/N.” 

You don’t tease him too much this time, you grab the waistband of his pants and tug them down, his rock hard cock finally coming out. His tip is red and angry. God, how can a dick look so pretty? 

Just as quickly as you got his cock out of his pants, you wrap your hand around him, pumping your hand up and down slowly. 

“Ohhhh my goood,” Jisung mewls. His thighs tense up and flex each time you stroke up and down. “Fuck yeah, Y/N. God, your hands are so fucking soft.”

You tighten your grip and Jisung whines. 

“Yeah? Does that feel good, baby?”

His cock twitches in your hand at the nickname at the same time a tiny whine escapes his throat.

“Does it?”

“Y-Yes,” he answers shyly.

“Louder, Jisung.”

“Yes, it feels good!”

“Good boy.” Without warning, you lean forward and take the entirety of him inside your mouth.

You can feel his knees buckle and if it wasn’t for the restraints keeping him suspended from the ceiling, he probably would’ve fallen to the ground. 

“Oh, oh m-my, f-fuck, Y/N!”

You’re relentless. You bob your head back and forth on his dick, letting your tongue swirl around the tip when you come up just to go back down and swallow him completely. Jisung’s hands are balled into such tight fists that his knuckles are turning white.

So many different pitches of whines, moans, and groans fall so easily from his lips. Compliments come out in between each one. 

“So good,” he cries. “I can’t fucking– holy shit.”

In some part of your mind, you always knew he would be vocal during sex– but never this vocal. He hasn’t shut up once. Not that you’re complaining, quite the opposite really. You fucking love every single noise that he makes. Each one sends a shock down between your legs. 

Too often you’ve been with partners that conceal how you’re making them feel, but not anymore. Jisung is making sure you know exactly how well you’re doing. 

“Such a perfect mouth, oh god. So fucking warm.”

You let your hand travel up his hoodie again, his abs are clenching and releasing over and over again with how hard he’s panting, you can feel each one under your hands. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” he pants as your hand goes up. “Fucking hurt me, yeah, please, scratch me, Y/N.”

God, the way he’s talking to you is fucking sinful. It’s perfect .

You scratch down his chest just as harshly as you did twice previously. 

Again, Jisung lets out a wail, his hips bucking and fucking his cock down your throat. You gag around him but keep him down your throat regardless.

“I-I-I’m gunna, holy shit, Y/N, I’m g’na– g’na—”

Now, you can’t have that yet, can you?

Quickly, you pull off his cock, letting yourself take a gulp of air. 

Jisung cries out from his ruined orgasm. “No! Shit! Fuck! Why?”

You look around the room while he throws his mini temper tantrum. There’s a small kitchen off to the side of the suite. 

As if you have nothing better to do, you meander over to it, looking around. 

“Y/N?” Jisung asks, hearing you walk away.

“Hm?” you respond.

“W-Where did you go?”

“Still here, baby, why?”

He shifts around, pulling on the ropes. The red color on his ears is getting deeper and deeper. “Just um– Why did you leave?”

You giggle. “Looking for something.”

You open one of the drawers, close it, then open another until you find what you’re looking for. It glints and catches your eye in the third drawer you check. You pick up the knife that was inside the drawer.

You’re walking back in his direction with the knife in your hand.

“D-Did you find what you needed?”

“Yep.”

With frightening grace, you reach up and slice the ropes holding his wrists in the air.

He almost drops to the ground, but you grab a hold of him before he has a chance to fall into the carpet. 

Jisung wastes no time, he grabs at your waist with both of his hands. Through the silk fabric of your dress, you feel the heat of his touch. It scorches into your skin and you wish he would brand his very handprints there.

His lips are already on yours again, feverishly kissing you as if you would disappear if he stopped even for a moment. He takes one second to rip the blindfold off his eyes and then he’s back on your mouth.

The hands on your waist don’t stay there long. They run all along your figure, up in your hair, over your neck, grabbing your ass, gripping your hips, he’s everywhere. 

You back up a bit, pulling Jisung with you until the back of your legs are about to hit the bed. Quickly, you spin the two of you around, pushing his chest so that he falls back onto the bed. 

When Jisung finally blinks the confusion from his eyes, his breath catches in his throat at the sight of you at the foot of the bed. 

You’re looking at him like you’re about to devour his very soul. Your hair is frizzy and tousled, the straps of your dress falling off your shoulders, your lipstick smudged over your puffy, kiss swollen lips.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he murmurs. His fingers curl into the blanket.

You straddle his legs and crawl onto the bed, hiking the skirt of your dress up enough for Jisung to see the strong muscle of your thighs. 

“There’s no way I’m awake right now,” he whispers, hands grabbing at your bare legs and running them up to push your dress further up your body. “I must have been shot. I’m in Heaven right now.”

With a sultry chuckle, you cup his cheek and let your thumb swipe over his lips. “I’m real, baby.”

“Oh my god.”

You reach down and take a hold of his cock, pumping him up and down a few more times. Jisung moans and fights for his eyes to stay open, he can’t get enough of the sight of your hand wrapped around him.

With your other hand, you reach down and pull your panties to the side, revealing your dripping cunt. 

“Holy fuck, you’re so wet,” Jisung whines. His fingers run up your folds, collecting your wetness on his digits and bringing them up to his mouth. He moans around his own fingers at your taste, his eyes rolling back in his skull. “Please, I need to–”

You cut him off by squeezing his cock. “Next time. I need you now .”

“Yes, ma’am,” he squeaks out. 

As if he would ever complain.

You line his cock up with your entrance, Jisung grabs your hips with both of his hands, his thumbs pressing against the bone so hard. His breathing is getting faster and faster with each passing second.

Slowly, you sink down on his cock.

Both of you moan out in unison. The stretch feels fucking marvelous inside of you. Jisung’s eyes roll back in his head once more. 

His moans dissolve into silence as his mouth stretches open in an ‘O’. He throbs inside you right before you lift your hips just to drop them again. 

“Oh god,” you moan. “Jisung, you feel so fucking good.”

“Move, please ,” he begs and you bounce up and down again and again. Each time you drop down, it shoots pleasure down through your thighs and into your toes.

You grab his face and smash his lips with yours once more. His tongue immediately finds yours. 

Jisung’s hands wander from your hips all the way around your body to grip your ass while you ride him, his fingers dig into the flesh, kneading it with each bounce. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he murmurs into your mouth. “Pussy so fucking tight.”

“Just for you.”

“O-Oh, fuck yeah . Just like that, baby.”

Jisung pulls away from your lips to kiss down your neck the way you did to him earlier. He takes his hands off your ass to pull the straps of your dress down your arms for your breasts to fall out of the top.

“Shit, baby,” he whines before taking a nipple in his mouth.

Moaning, you pull his hair tighter, keeping his face buried in your chest– not that he seems to mind. His eyebrows pinch together, moans vibrating against your chest as he licks and sucks at your nipple.

His other hand comes up to pinch and pull at the other. Each tweak and flick of his tongue makes your walls clamp down on his cock.

“Your cock feels so good, Jisung,” you moan, clenching on him again. “Stretching me so good, so fucking big.”

He moans, sucking a hickey on the underside of one of your tits. 

The pitch of both of your moans begin to get higher and higher the closer you get to your peaks. Jisung’s heels dig into the carpet and he starts fucking up into you.

“Fuck!” you cry out, holding him tighter. His thrusts are so much wilder than your bounces were. Each one fucks right into your g-spot. “Ji– Jisung, oh god!”

“Yeah?” He pulls away from your chest and looks up at you with half lidded eyes. “Does that feel good? Am I making you feel good?”

“Yes, yes! Keep going, Ji!”

Every single thrust is driving you wild. Everything about him makes you feel crazy, everything down to the sweat beading on his forehead.

He reaches down and presses his thumb against your clit, making you cry out. He rubs circles in the same tempo as his thrusts. 

Closer and closer you approach your own climax, his touch feels too good.

Jisung looks down, watching where his cock disappears inside you over and over again. The very sight of it makes his mouth go dry. 

He groans and falls into your chest. 

“Say it for me, Y/N, say it,” he pants into your neck. “Say you’re close. I-I’m going to fucking bust, say you’re close, I need you to cum on my cock. Need it s-so bad.”

“I am, I am,” you repeat like a mantra. Your own pleasure is making you feel inside, his cock is abusing your walls just right, his thumb on your clit adding an extra level of insanity. 

You pull more at his hair.

Close, close, close. It’s all you can think of. Jisung is enveloping all of your senses. He’s everything in your mind and body and even your soul.

“Gunna cum!” you cry out. “Cumming, cu– cumming!”

With just three more thrusts, your walls clamp down on Jisung’s cock, triggering his own release.

“Jisung, fuck!”

He bites down on your neck, crying out and grabbing you tightly with his free hand. He clings onto you like he would die if he let go.

Hot, sticky cum drips over your walls, leaking out around his cock.

Both of you are panting heavily, unable to move and detangle yourselves from one another. 

Slowly, you release your death grip on his hair, letting your nails drag along his scalp like you did earlier. He hums against your neck, his hands finding your hips again, thumbs massaging you over your dress.

The gentleness of his touch makes you clench around him, your cunt still going through the aftershock of your orgasm.

“Jeeesus…” Jisung moans out, a bit overstimulated. You giggle and pull back to look down at your best friend. He looks up at you with a delighted smile across his face.

You giggle and continue to comb through his hair. 

His eyes fall closed happily and he leans into your touch.

This should feel awkward. You should be having some sort of ‘post-nut clarity’ where you freak out for sleeping with your best friend, but you’re not. 

Right here, right now, you feel safe and content. And your relationship with Jisung feels the same– if not better.

“I knew it,” he hums.

You cock your head to the side. “Knew what?”

“You’re obsessed with me.”

Laughing, you lean forward and press a long kiss to his lips. “Yeah.” You kiss him again. “Maybe I am.”

---------------------------------------

“So J was captured and tied up in another room in the convention center?” Chan asks.

You and Jisung had safely returned to Korea with The Refuge about two hours ago. And, per protocol, you both immediately went to Chan’s office for a debrief.

“Affirmative,” you answer. 

“And you got him back, obviously. No problems after that?”

“No, sir.”

Jisung shifts on his chair next to you.

“Uneventful beyond that one hiccup?”

You tongue your cheek. “Yes, sir.”

Chan eyes the two of you curiously from the other side of his desk. But, the mission was complete and everything was done. There was nothing he needed to be wary of. For now.

“Understood. I’ll read about the mission more in your reports. You’re both dismissed.”

The two of you are leaving Chan’s office with thinly veiled smirks on your faces. Just as you’re about to close the door behind you, he calls out.

“Might want to cover the hickeys next time!”

[whumppuppeteer]

Maylancholy day 27: Forced into silence

Tag: @may-lancholy

This fic contains: body horror(mouth), needles, defiant whumpee(not for long :3)

Whumpee stared down Whumper. They had to stay calm, even as leather restraints held them tight to the bed and Whumper wheeled out a cart of surgical instruments.

"I don't care what you do, I won't tell you shit." If nothing else, they would keep everyone else safe.

"So you've proven."Whumper agreed in an annoyed tone. "It seems you don't value the privilege of speech."

Whumper grabbed something from the cart.

A needle and thread.

"If you should discard that privilege so readily, then I shall grant you an easy way to do so."

Tears ran down Whumpee's face as their attempts to scream were blocked.

-

Caretaker made their way into the darkened lab. Whumpee had to be here.

A soft whimpering caught their ears. That-that couldn't be Whumpee, right?

They followed the sound to a dark room near the back.

"Whumpee, is that you? Please talk to me."

The whimpering only grew in intensity. Caretaker turned on the light.

There was whumpee, curled in the corner, and as they lifted their head, Caretaker saw the precise, weave of stitches that kept their mouth shut.

[inkbun]

Strange Fruit

Words: 792

Pairing: Dracula/F!Reader

AO3 link

(Not canon adherent at all. This woke me up in a dream at 3 am, so I wrote it)

When you arrive, the first thing he notices is your smell. You reek. Not of piss or shit (the usual scents humans wafted in the throne room), but the deep wet tang of arousal.

Disgust curls his lip. “You want me to fuck you.”

That sent you reeling, a bug-eyed chorus of “no no no” and some piss-poor explanation about working with his wife in Wallachia as a physician’s assistant.

The way you bow – step-tap of polished black shoes as you lower too quickly and rise again, flushed – reminds him of a dog tripping over its feet to greet its master.

But a physician is useful to keep his blood bags alive, so he agrees.

The indiscretion follows, an apple tumbled from the cart. Bruised. Rotten.

To your credit, it is months of careful performance before your need breaches the surface.

You move about the castle like deer approach an open clearing – footfalls flitting, never landing. You turned apology to rosary, words worn to smooth beads in your mouth: “Sorry”, “I’ll come back later”, “Didn’t mean to disturb”.

The bleating deference was cause enough to kill you. But you hadn’t lied when you told him that you worked alongside Lisa, or that you were an eager learner.

In the months since you moved into the castle, you’d caught on quickly.

You spent the first few weeks updating your knowledge, poring through the library’s texts at a rate he thought only his wife capable.

Soon after you entered the lab, dusting off Lisa’s instruments and continuing in her notebook.

The first time he saw you with it, black leather tome smudged with her loping cursive, he stopped. You held the gaze a moment, then went back to work.

It was the only time you didn’t apologize.

One night soon after he heard a noise on his way to the tower. Slrrp, then again – fainter, irregular, accompanied by a hitching, pleasured gasp.

When he looked through the cracked door, you were two fingers deep in your cunt, dress rucked up as you writhed.

It was mundane, really.

Sex. Money. Power. Humans were the same since time immemorial.

The sight hardly moved him; the scent bade him enter.

Beneath the iron croon of blood and animal musk of your wet was a resurrection – rose, parchment, clove, orange. It wasn’t the exact blend, but close enough to be an unmistakable copy.

A pang churned his stomach, would’ve forced the air from his lungs had they still respirated.

“You’re wearing her perfume,” he says, not bothering to announce himself.

Your eyes fly open, your hands rush to cover. The performance is not altogether convincing. Yes the motions are correct, as is your shriek of discovery.

But your eyes – heavy-lidded, almost relieved by intrusion – give you away.

“You want me to fuck you,” he says, peering at your form like a vivisection under magnifying glass.

This time, the truth. “Yes.”

The humans he kept were forgemasters, explicit in purpose and even more so in their passionate hatred of humanity.

You were meant keep the feeding populace relatively healthy – a glorified veterinarian. Beyond that…you were a tenuous link, an unwelcome echo that insisted on miming the inimitable.

Still, even a dull shadow was worth indulging if it ignited a flicker of what once was.

“Wait.”

The command freezes you in place, though he can practically hear the frisson of your nerves.

When he returns, he holds a bottle out to you.

Crystal, glittering under candlelight with a brass rose stopper. You uncork it without a word, dabbing the amber liquid on all the points his teeth could tear.

“Not a word.” You nod and lay back, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

The act itself is clinical.

You’re prepared enough for him to enter without preamble; he’s determined enough to make quick work of it. But your eyes still widen and your fingers still grasp at his shoulders – he grunts, live flesh fused against dead.

When your cunt clenches – choked sob ripped from your lips – it conjures Lisa. Fair where you are not, angelic where you bray.

His wife, where you…you…

A strangled, growling release cuts the thought short. When he looks down, you’re on the cusp of your own fit, pleading gaze boring into his.

For a moment, he considers splitting your neck with his nails. But he looks at the perfume on your nightstand and ruts once, twice until you’re brought over the edge.

Silently you compose yourself as he dresses to leave, crackling hearth flame the only sound.

In the doorway, he turns.

“Again, at this time tomorrow.”

[sevasey51]

after a few crazy shifts the last couple weeks. A couple shifts with multiple code whites that went over the PA. Some difficult deliveries and a couple close calls to losses. Connor knew everytime that code went over the PA she definitely was responding. She’s a scrub tech after all she would always scrub in to help her co worker organize the supplies. He knew she was slowly but surely had a one way ticket to a crash. In between cases Connor tells Ava that he wants her to check you out. They take the opportunity of maternity not being busy for the first time in weeks for Ava to take a look at her.

Surviving Isn’t Thriving

Summary: After weeks of nonstop chaos—code whites, difficult deliveries, and too many close calls—Connor’s been watching his wife stretch herself thinner and thinner. As a scrub tech, she never says no to stepping in when someone needs help. She scrubs in, organizes, steadies the chaos. But Connor knows her tells—how she pushes through, how she won’t stop until her body forces her to. So during a lull in cases, he quietly pulls Ava aside and asks her to check Y/N over. Because before she falls, he wants someone to catch her. Even if she won’t admit she needs it.

The hospital had been running hot for weeks.

Every other day, a Code White blared overhead—OB emergency. Hemorrhages, fetal distress, sudden heart decels. One minute the floor was calm, and the next it was a battlefield. And every single time, Y/N was there.

Connor knew.

He didn’t have to see it.

He could feel it.

She was the one organizing trays mid-crisis. The one unwrapping instruments with practiced hands while staying three steps ahead of the panic. He’d caught glimpses of her in passing—masked, focused, steady even in the blur of chaos.

But when the adrenaline faded, he also saw the way she leaned just a little too long against the counter. The way she blinked at the ground before standing, like gravity had gotten heavier. The way she brushed off Will’s offer of coffee with a quiet, “No time.”

Connor knew what that meant.

She was going down. Slowly. Quietly. And she wasn’t going to say a word about it.

In between cases, he caught Ava just outside the OR.

“You busy?” he asked.

She raised an eyebrow. “Why do you look like you’re trying not to panic?”

“It’s Y/N.”

Her expression softened immediately. “What happened?”

“She’s running herself into the ground. I know the signs. She’s been working every emergency on that floor for the past two weeks. No breaks. Skipped meals. I’ve seen the way her hands tremble when she thinks no one’s looking.”

Ava didn’t even hesitate. “Get her off the floor. I’ll come up and take a look.”

Connor sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

Maternity was quiet for the first time in what felt like forever. No urgent deliveries. No OR preps. Just soft chatter and paperwork.

Connor slipped into the lounge, where Y/N was leaning over a cart of labeled suture packs, restocking like she hadn’t been on her feet for ten hours.

“Hey,” he said gently. “Come with me for a second?”

She looked up, surprised. “Why? What’s going on?”

“I just… need you to sit down.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Connor…”

“I asked Ava to come up. She’s going to check you over.”

Y/N straightened. “You what?”

“You’re not in trouble,” he said quickly, stepping closer. “I’m just worried. You’ve been burning at both ends. You haven’t had a proper meal or break in days. Your pupils were sluggish this morning, your hands were trembling during that C-section, and I saw you catch yourself on the wall walking out of 7B.”

Her shoulders dropped. Her eyes welled just slightly.

“You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“I see everything about you,” he whispered. “That’s the whole point.”

Before she could argue, Ava entered the room, lab coat open, calm as ever.

“Hi, favorite patient,” she said gently. “Don’t worry. This is unofficial. Just me being nosy on behalf of your very panicked husband.”

Y/N sighed, rubbing her eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Sure you are,” Ava replied. “Sit.”

Ava took her vitals first—BP low, heart rate too high for resting. Pupils reactive, but slow. Mild dehydration. Lightheaded on standing. Her port was slightly inflamed, probably from overuse and not enough flushing.

Connor sat across from her, quiet but present.

“You’re pre-crash,” Ava said finally. “And I don’t mean maybe. I mean definitely. You’re running on fumes, and your body’s giving every early warning sign it has.”

Y/N looked down at her hands. “I didn’t want to be the weak link.”

“You’re not,” Connor said instantly. “But if you keep pushing like this, you’re going to go down mid-case. And you know exactly how that ends.”

She nodded, swallowing hard. “I didn’t realize how bad it had gotten.”

“That’s the thing about slow burns,” Ava said gently. “You don’t feel it until you’re ash.”

They got her settled in the quiet room just off maternity—IV fluids through her port, blood work ordered, her feet elevated. Ava stayed for another half hour, updating her chart and sending notes to Hannah and Will.

Connor never left her side.

Later, when she was finally resting, she reached for his hand.

“I hate that you knew before I did.”

He kissed her knuckles. “I love you too much not to notice.”

Because the bravest thing wasn’t always saving someone in an OR.

Sometimes it was watching the person you love slowly wear themselves thin—

and stepping in before they crumbled.

Even if it meant being the one who made them stop.

[tenno-aster]

A wishlist for new Shiny Treasures from Bird-3

The books!

Desks and lab tables!

These carts!

These pneumatic capsules and the cases they go in!

And of course the funky lab instruments!

[harmonyludwig]

Gonna write down a draft for Undertale AU I plan to expand; CoupleSwapTale.

Basically, I rounded all characters into pairs (not ships, the pairs are usually used in normal SwapTale) and the swapped them.

Sans & Papyrus swap with Asgore & Toriel.

S&P are brother kings. With Sans being the eldest, technically he's the king. But his little brother asked so nicely and being a king is such a hardship, Sans crowned him as well. He stayed because monsters would complain about traditions and order. King Sans and Crown Prince Papyrus. Paps is very enthusiastic about his kingdom, and is beloved by the monsters. He takes his responsibilities seriously, and completes those Sans "forgot" about. He doesn't wear the Ruling Crown, which only the acting monarch can have, even tho he is basically the acting one. Sans walks through his kingdom, chatting with monsters and napping everywhere. He favours Snowdin and likes to laze around, is found often in the lab, reading about science and chatting with the Royal Scientist. Basically, Classic Sans. Some monsters think he is a different skeleton and not their king, because why would the acting king wander around his kingdom, sleeping in bushes and visiting taverns? Sans was the Crown Prince at the time of The War. After the previous monarch wasn't found under Mt. Ebott, monsters crowned him almost forcefully. He lost his HP (hope) finding a way to break the border and building the new world. Papyrus, seeing his brother's HP, decided he would do whatever it takes to break the border. After finding out about him giving the order and collecting the human souls, Sans got angry and one night didn't return to the castle. He lives in the Ruins now, hiding from the Royal Guards and lazing around as much as possible, thinking up ways to stop Papyrus from becoming what he couldn't.

(draft of the story)

A&T is a married couple that lives in Snowdin. Toriel is a baker, and Asgore aspires to become a Royal Guard.

(is their marriage okay? Are they divorced so Soriel can happen? Dunno yet)

Undyne&Alphys swap with Napstablook&Mettaton.

U&A are a singer x writer couple. Undyne is a popular rock star who gives motivational speeches and calls people Boneheads (which is not an insult there under, but a respectful way to refer to someone as a joke. Since their monarchs are skeletons.). Alphys is an aspiring writer shut-in that still loses her breath when Undyne looks at her (they're dating). Her books are inspired by anime and heavily advertised by Undyne and her gays (Royal Guard 01 and 02. Here they are a pianist and a drummer. They switch instruments occasionally).

(name of Undyne's group is not thought of yet)

M&N are ghost cousins who serve the Crown. Mettaton is the Royal Guard Captain, in their robotic body equipped by Napstablook. Blook is the Royal Scientist. With no need for food or sleep, and inspiration in the form of Undyne's music and Alphys' books, Naps has great interest in the job. Mettaton has got a bit far from Napstablook after the King has disappeared, which saddens them both.

Grillby&Muffet swap with IceCreamGuy&Burgerpants.

G&M are close friends, Grillby works for the restaurant in which Undyne usually performs and Muffet travels all over under world with her food cart. She brings foods from other regions everywhere, letting monsters taste and feel the other regions of their world, for a fair price. Doesn't overcharge. Only if you're rude. Is a great fighter. Grillby had a rocky start with Undyne, him being made of fire and her needing water often. They made up. Grillby gets a little more for offering fans to deliver water to Undyne, and she gets to meet different monsters.

B&I are unfinished. Burgerpants is probably the host of Snowdin tavern and IceGuy is a vendor in need of money, with a net to all of underground.

Asriel is Asgore's and Toriel's son. His fate is unknown yet, whether he will be like Monster kid and run around Snowdin or die and become the reason of his parents' divorce.

Frisk was the first human. They fell and were adopted by Sans, who ran to Ruins to take out the stress of his new responsibilities. They grew up with Papyrus, under the watch of Sans and got crowned as ... The Little Monarch of Underground. Monster kid came to the palace to play with Frisk and Papyrus often. Frisk told them stories of the overworld. When Monster Kid became extremely ill, they asked to see the surface and experience the flowers Frisk talked so much about . Frisk panics, kills the advisor, W.D. Gaster, to obtain a monster soul and goes into the world with Monster Kid. At the surface they get attacked, and their bodies, covered with golden flowers, are found near the barrier.

Chara is the 8th human. Fallen down while trying to escape their cruel life.

River person has not changed. They are just more crazy.

[thewatchmakersnerd]

Answering these with Mel because I love him so so much <3

Name/nickname: Melvin (only by his mum or Lon when he’s bullying him) and obviously Mel. Or if we’re full naming him - Melvin Leslie Brian Cooper

Age: I’m picturing late 30s earlier 40s

Height/weight: 5”5 and probably pretty underweight (I say this because in the Twelfth Card is says that a teenager was like 3 times his weight aksjdka)

Hair colour: brown

Eye colour: I feel like he has blue eyes (so he can autism stare at everyone)

Markings/scars: he still has some scars from being bullied and being in the hospital and from his ex :( and also from when he broke his ankle when he was 15 with a shopping trolley/cart (seriously Mel wtaf 😭). Tattoo wise, he said his mum would kill him so probably none but he could have a secret tattoo aksjdka

Gender: male :)

Parents: obviously his lovely mum (who by the way absolutely knits jumpers for him) and his dad who was always very protective over him and even punched his fair share of Mel’s bullies (because Mel refused to aksjdka)

Siblings: he’s either an only child or has a typical ‘mean’ older brother who cares about him really <3

Sexual orientation: bisexual - but he took ages to realise (if he even has)

Nationality: American 🇺🇸

Date of birth: he seems like he was born in summer (no I don’t know why I think that) so around June time :)

Health conditions: OH LORD. My guy has autism, anxiety, asthma (I think I’m projecting), probably arthritis and I just feel like he has an allergy

Where do they live?: Queens with his mum :)

Employment status: employed really high up in the forensics department

Ambitions/aspirations: he’s probably achieved all of his academic/job ambitions so probably to compete internationally in ballroom dancing and to marry Gretta <3

Personality type (Myres-Briggs): INJF (idealistic, organised, insightful, dependable, compassionate, gentle, seek harmony and cooperation and enjoys intellectual stimulation)

Interests/hobbies: obviously ballroom dancing (as well as shooting and wine marking) but he also builds Lego and takes his builds to competitions. He also loves dinosaurs

Drugs/alcohol: he has never touched drugs and never will. He does drink but in moderation

Flaws: he doesn’t really like working in a team and often takes the lead in team situations. He also points out when people are wrong regardless of whether they are in front of people (usually when he’s in a mood though)

Talents: ballroom dancing, maths/physics and chemistry. He can also play an instrument (probably something really complicated) - he probably taught himself how to when he was bored in school

What annoys them?: any type of repetitive sound, his mum nagging him about getting married and having children and when people move his stuff from the specific places he puts them in

What excites them?: he loves a new, big and complicated case. Learning also excites him!

Do they have children?: no and he doesn’t know if he wants them or not

Past relationships: he’s only ever had 1 ex and she was just as I described in my last post :( - Gretta helped him leave her and she actually showed him what love is

Their most precious possession: his very well loved teddy bear from when he was a baby :)

Their darkest secret: he’s been struggling with his mental health for years and he only ever told Gretta and his mum. He also regularly thinks about his sexuality and seriously struggles with identifying himself

Their biggest fear: needles. He passes out whenever he gets one

Are they sociable?: no. He never spoke when he got his first job at the small forensics lab and when he transferred, Lon and Lincoln introduced him to everyone to help him make friends. Gretta was the one to make the first move too <3

Intelligence level: let’s be real, he probably has a genius-level IQ

Closest friends: apart from the group (including Thom obviously) and Gretta, he has a very close friend called Joey who he has known since high school - they tried to help each other through the bullying and stayed close :)

Any secrets/abilities: he’s one of those people who can solve a Rubik’s cube really quickly

How do they view themselves: I don’t think Mel’s self-esteem ever recovered after the bullying and his ex, so he probably views himself negatively - whenever he feels this way, Gretta always builds his confidence back up <3

How do others view them?: almost everyone views him highly - they have nothing but respect for him and admire his intelligence <3

Physical strength: he has a bit of strength (because he was to hold Gretta while dancing) but he’s probably not really strong

Past trauma?: obviously his ex and the bullying me and Nicco talked about in the last post :(

Family relationships: he’s very close to his mum and always feels safe around her as she would comfort him when he was bullied. He was also very close to his dad even though they were very different - Mel’s dad loved sports and Mel didn’t care for them but they still bonded over sports. Both of his parents love(d) hearing him talking about his interests/education - they were/are always so proud of him :)

Clothing style: sweaters. This man loves sweaters. He also loves baggy clothes because tighter clothes give him sensory issues

Level of confidence: in his academic ability? He’s fully confident. In himself? Very low

Personal hygiene: he takes very good care of himself - especially teeth - I imagine that he had braces as a kid but like very obvious braces :( - so he does anything he can to avoid going to a dentist

Daily routines: he is very reliant on daily routines and any deviation from these upsets him deeply. He probably wakes up freakishly early and gets ready for the day while Gretta is sleeping. His work schedule is all over the place so he usually gets to be really late :(

Favourite foods: he loves dark chocolate and tea <3

Favourite places to be: the forensics lab, Lincoln’s house, his mum’s house and wherever Gretta is <3

What’s their sense of humour like?: he’s a sucker for science or maths jokes (you can’t tell me that he didn’t use maths pick up lines on Gretta) but he also laughs at dumb stuff (usually when he’s with Lon aksjdka)

Wants/needs: he always wanted someone with the same interests as him but he needed someone who understood him too. He also needs a lot of alone time to relax and recharge his social battery. He also needs to eat, drink and sleep more :(

Leader or follower: I have no idea

Are they good with money?: he’s so good with money that he does everyone’s taxes and gets them way better tax refunds than accountants (I have no idea I just think they’re good things aksjdka)

Beliefs/religon: honestly, I’ve been thinking about Jewish Mel recently but it would also make a lot of sense to me for him to be an atheist and I can’t decide 😫

Music tastes: he loves rock music - especially old rock music and blasts it down his headphones when he’s working aksjdka

Political leanings: liberal

Happiness level: it depends on the day but his average is a 6 or 7/10

Hardworking or lazy?: hardworking. He’s so hardworking that he has burnt himself out so many times :)

Economic status: I don’t really understand this one. He probably makes a fair bit of money if he’s in all of those organisations the books say he’s in (I swear they say he’s in organisations)

Language skills: OK RIGHT HEAR ME OUT. Mel can speak loads of languages because when he was bored of what he was learning at school, he taught himself loads of different languages. He speaks English, German, Hungarian and French. Later on, he taught himself Swedish for Gretta <3

Likability: one of the most likeable men on the planet <3

What motivates them?: definitely his passion for his subject, as well as making his mum and dad proud :)

What are their hidden desires?: no idea. He probably wants to improve his social skills

What’s on their internet browser?: a lot of work/documents as well as a couple of video games he plays in his free time 

What’s in their bag?: phone, wallet, spare pair of glasses, notebook and pen, a rubik’s cube (to mess around with), whatever book he’s reading and food and water that Gretta always makes sure he takes with him

Mel, my beloved <3

I actually love him so much oh my god

I might make another with other characters!

(Also @nicco-ck your angsty headcannons are so good! Sorry I haven’t replied to them, I’ve been trying to think of what to add and write the fanfiction - I’ve hit a wall with it- but I love them so much!)

[tyo-mimt]

32/36. @tmnt-event-blog

What was he if not what he was good at?

He asked himself the same question often: what was he good for if not for his tech? Even when the answer was repeated to him, it wasn't something he could fully internalise.

Blaring music on full volume with his headphones, tinkering away on the motherboard during a non-brain fog night. Just another one of those nights where he could finally be productive and work on some repairs.

Just recalling the laundry list of things he had to do, there was fixing the alarm system (which had been broken for weeks, but no one seemed to notice), software updates on his code (which applied to all contingencies and failsafes in his battle shells), and... Hmm, he was forgetting something after all.

For now though, he had to focus on goggle repairs. He slipped on ice and damaged the motherboard on it. It was but a minor setback... He could handle it. His fingers started tapping to the beat of the music as he attempted to mentally recall what needed to be soldered where.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

He fiddled with the instrument, the butt of it hitting the desk as the chaos of the music only grew with his work.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

Huh, did one of the wires burn out? Maybe he should've readjusted the voltage on that part of the circuit.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

He was really struggling to properly track each wire. He really should've coloured them...

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

Oh, right. He had to install proper doors on the train carts. They'd just substituted them for curtains, but those didn't offer good privacy...

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap...

As much as he wanted to stave his thoughts away, they remained stubbornly intrusive. If he couldn't even fix the thing that would help him with the rest of repairs, how could he expect to fix everything else? Did he even deserve the aide? When his brilliance was tanking and deteriorating, did anything he did afterward matter?

Yes, he was the tech guy, but did that mean he could like other things?

He liked to dance, liked to learn about plants and the various ways to utilise them to benefit everyone, liked skateboarding and pizza the same way his brothers did, loved scrapyard diving... He loved his family... But did it really matter when he couldn't be of any use to them?

He tried to recall April's words in Witch Town, but they were still hard to internalise. They weren't even retrievable, replaced with the many failures of his past. How his tech had almost failed his family before. How each and every mistake now could easily spell doom for his family in the future.

Oh.

Never mind, it was one of those brain fog nights.

(Quietly, hopefully) slamming the device onto the desk and huffing in mild frustration, Donnie leaned back on the rolling chair he sat on and groaned. Inertia pushed the chair away, eventually bumping into the bunk bed in his lab.

It was late enough, and exhaustion and frustration was a good mix of emotions to fall asleep to. Probably.

Clambering onto the bed and sparing one final glance at the desk, he pulled the bedsheets over his head and closed his eyes.

He chanted the same thing, because he knew it'd come true eventually... It'd be better tomorrow.

[unitedsteelsupplies]

Custom Metal Fabrication for Hospitals: Precision, Safety & Durability for Healthcare Facilities

In the healthcare industry, precision and hygiene are non-negotiable. From surgical suites to sterilization rooms, every component must be durable, compliant, and built to exact specifications. That’s why custom metal fabrication for hospitals is in high demand—offering tailored solutions that enhance safety, efficiency, and sanitation in medical environments.

Why Hospitals Need Custom Metal Fabrication

🛠️ 1. Tailored to Specific Needs

No two healthcare facilities are exactly the same. Hospital metal fabrication services create customized components such as medical carts, surgical tables, cabinetry, and storage systems to match each hospital’s unique layout and workflow.

🧼 2. Hygienic & Easy to Clean

Materials like stainless steel, often used in custom medical metalwork, resist rust, corrosion, and bacterial growth. These surfaces are ideal for environments that require frequent sterilization.

🧱 3. Built to Last

Hospitals are high-traffic, high-impact environments. Custom-fabricated metal components withstand constant use, heavy equipment, and chemical exposure—ensuring long-lasting performance and fewer replacements.

Applications of Metal Fabrication in Healthcare Facilities

Custom metal fabrication can be found in nearly every corner of a hospital, including:

Operating rooms – Instrument tables, utility racks, surgical storage units

Patient rooms – Bed frames, IV poles, overbed tables

Sterile processing departments – Workstations, sink units, cleanroom tables

Pharmacies and labs – Shelving, cabinetry, containment enclosures

Maintenance and utility areas – Safety railings, support frames, equipment guards

Popular Materials for Hospital Metal Fabrication

Stainless Steel (304 & 316 grade) – Non-corrosive, durable, and easy to clean

Aluminum – Lightweight and corrosion-resistant

Powder-Coated Steel – For added durability and custom finish options

Benefits of Working With a Hospital Metal Fabrication Expert

🔧 Custom design & prototyping

📋 Compliance with medical codes and regulations

🏥 Experience with healthcare-grade fabrication

🚚 On-time delivery and installation

⚙️ Post-installation support and repair services

Working with a specialized hospital metal fabrication company ensures your equipment meets both operational needs and safety standards.

Target Keyword Variations for SEO

To maximize online visibility, use variations such as:

Custom metal fabrication for hospitals

Stainless steel medical equipment fabrication

Healthcare facility metalwork services

Fabricated stainless steel hospital furniture

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Medical-grade metal fabricators

Metal hospital sink and table fabrication

Surgical room metalwork customization

Durable metal components for hospitals

Healthcare stainless steel fabrication solutions

Final Thoughts

In hospitals, the stakes are high. Every fixture, table, and piece of equipment must function perfectly—day after day. Custom metal fabrication for healthcare facilities offers a hygienic, durable, and compliant solution for the modern hospital. From surgical departments to utility rooms, expertly fabricated metalwork enhances safety, efficiency, and longevity.

Need a trusted partner for your healthcare metalwork? Reach out today for a quote from a certified hospital metal fabrication specialist near you.

[greenmatter1]

The Right Way to Store, Seal, and Transport Bio Hazard Bags

Proper handling of bio hazard bags is essential in any healthcare, laboratory, or clinical environment. These specialized bags are designed to contain infectious and hazardous materials, ensuring that they don’t pose a risk to people, animals, or the environment. However, even the most durable biohazard waste bag can fail to serve its purpose if it’s not stored, sealed, and transported correctly.

Let’s break down the correct process for managing bio medical waste bags to ensure safety, compliance, and environmental responsibility.

Why Proper Handling of Bio Hazard Bags Is Crucial

Biohazardous waste includes human tissue, blood-soaked materials, used medical instruments, laboratory samples, and other potentially infectious substances. Improper handling can result in:

Contamination of clean areas

Exposure to healthcare workers or the public

Environmental pollution

Fines or legal action for non-compliance

To avoid these risks, healthcare facilities must adhere to strict guidelines for the storage, sealing, and transportation of bio hazard waste.

1. Storing Bio Hazard Bags Safely

Storage is the first step in the safe management of biomedical waste. It must be handled carefully to prevent leakage, mixing, or accidental exposure.

Best Practices:

Use a designated biohazard bin: Place bio hazard bags in clearly labeled, covered containers with a foot-operated lid to reduce hand contact.

Avoid overfilling: Bags should not be filled beyond two-thirds capacity to prevent rupture.

Keep away from public areas: Store waste in a restricted, well-ventilated, and temperature-controlled room until it is transported.

Segregate by type: Use color-coded bio medical waste bags (e.g., red for infectious waste, yellow for anatomical waste) to ensure proper treatment methods.

By maintaining organized, secure storage, facilities can reduce the risk of spills and cross-contamination.

2. Sealing Bio Hazard Bags Properly

Once a biohazard waste bag is filled, it must be sealed securely before transport. This step is vital for containing waste and protecting handlers.

Proper Sealing Tips:

Twist and tie the bag tightly at the neck using a strong knot or zip tie.

Double-bag if needed: For particularly wet or heavy waste, place the bag inside another bio hazard bag for added protection.

Label the bag: Ensure that each sealed bag is labeled with the waste category, date, and source (e.g., lab, ICU, ward).

Use tamper-evident ties: These offer additional security and clearly indicate if a bag has been opened.

Sealing is not just about safety—it’s a legal requirement under most bio medical waste regulations.

3. Transporting Bio Hazard Bags Responsibly

Transporting bio hazard bags—whether within a facility or to an external disposal unit—must be done with care and documentation.

Safe Transport Guidelines:

Use closed trolleys or carts that are clearly labeled and easy to sanitize.

Minimize manual handling: Lift bags using handles or trays to reduce contact with the surface of the bag.

Follow a fixed route: Avoid crossing paths with patients or food service areas to limit contamination risk.

External transport must be authorized: Only certified agencies should handle off-site disposal, following regulations for hazardous waste.

Proper transportation ensures the integrity of the waste containment process and maintains hygiene across healthcare operations.

Compliance with Legal Standards

Most countries, including India, regulate biomedical waste under specific laws such as the Bio-Medical Waste Management Rules, 2016. These guidelines outline exactly how bio medical waste bags must be handled, and non-compliance can lead to legal penalties and endanger public health.

Using certified, clearly labeled biohazard waste bags, training staff, and documenting waste movement are all part of staying compliant.

Conclusion: Safety Starts with the Bag

Correctly storing, sealing, and transporting bio hazard bags is not just a best practice—it’s a necessity. It protects your staff, patients, community, and the environment. By following proper procedures and using certified bio medical waste bags, your facility can maintain a clean, safe, and compliant waste disposal system.

Don’t cut corners on waste management—because in healthcare, every detail counts.

[lily22223]

The Science Behind Organic Essential Oil Blends: Why Purity Matters

I still remember the first time I brought a diffuser home after a nail-biting week at work. I had ordered a couple of Essential Oil Blends Online, eager to see whether all the hype about “true purity” was real or just good marketing. One deep, eucalyptus-mint breath later, I felt like my shoulders had slid down from my ears to where they belong. That pleasant surprise kicked off my quest to understand what exactly makes organic essential oil blends so special—and why purity genuinely matters.

I Start With the Plant, Not the Bottle

When I shop for Essential Oil Blends Online, I always check where the plants were grown. Organically farmed lavender, for example, is cultivated without synthetic pesticides or herbicides. That matters because aromatic compounds are “lipophilic”—they love to bind to oils and fats. If any chemical residues cling to the plant, they can hitchhike right into the finished oil. Keeping the crop chemical-free from seed to seal means I’m inhaling the plant’s own therapeutic molecules—not a cocktail of extras I didn’t sign up for.

Steam, Pressure, and Tiny Molecules

Most of the blends I purchase are produced through steam distillation. In this method, pressurized steam ruptures plant cell walls, releasing volatile molecules like linalool (calming) or 1,8-cineole (clearing). Because these compounds are fragile, even slight contamination or over-heating can distort their natural chemical profile. Certified organic producers must follow strict temperature and pressure guidelines, preserving the exact mix that nature designed. When I compare lab reports for organic and non-organic oils, the organic batch almost always shows a cleaner chromatogram—science-speak for “nothing extra hiding in there.”

Why “Synergy” Isn’t Just Buzzword Bingo

Blending oils isn’t as simple as splashing equal parts into a bottle. Each compound in a blend can amplify or buffer its neighbors. Think of it like a symphony: one violin is lovely, but an entire string section gives me goosebumps. Purity ensures that each “instrument” in the blend plays its intended note. When I diffuse a certified-organic Stress-Away blend, for instance, the limonene from sweet orange sharpens my focus while the chamomile’s bisabolol calms my nerves—no synthetic off-notes muddying the harmony.

The Nose-to-Brain Express Lane

Inhaling essential oils fast-tracks active molecules to my limbic system—the brain’s emotional command center. Research using functional MRI shows that compounds such as menthol or linalyl acetate can alter neural activity within seconds. If those molecules arrive tainted with impurities, my body still absorbs them; I’m just not getting the clean therapeutic signal I paid for. Pure, organic blends give my gray matter the undiluted message to relax, uplift, or energize—whatever I need in that moment.

Safety First, Especially for Daily Users

Because I lean on aromatherapy every single day, cumulative exposure matters. Repeated inhalation of minute pesticide residues might not cause an immediate disaster, but over months or years it can tax my liver’s detox pathways. By sticking with organic Essential Oil Blends Online, I simply remove that variable from the equation. It’s one less layer of stress—exactly what I’m trying to avoid in the first place.

How I Vet My Bottles Before They Hit the Cart

Third-Party Testing I look for GC/MS (gas chromatography/mass spectrometry) reports posted right on the retailer’s product page.

Clear Lot Numbers Traceability means I can track a bottle back to its harvest date and farm.

Transparent Sourcing Stories Brands eager to show me photos of their distilleries and fields usually have nothing to hide.

Organic Certification Seals USDA, ACO (in Australia), or ECOCERT logos are my quick visual cues.

The Bottom Line for Fellow Stress-Prone Professionals

Investing in pure, organic essential oil blends isn’t just greenwashing; it’s grounded in chemistry, physiology, and long-term wellness. When I unwind after a marathon of Zoom calls, I want every inhalation to count. That’s why I keep ordering my Essential Oil Blends Online from companies that treat purity like a promise.

So the next time you spot two similar-looking bottles but one costs a few dollars more, ask yourself: “Is my peace of mind worth the upgrade?” I already know my answer—my diffuser is humming beside me as I type this.

[hydestor]

Created especially to comply with the rigorous organisational, safety, and cleanliness standards of medical settings, clinical storage systems are designed to meet those standards. Medical supplies, surgical instruments, patient records, drugs, all of these stored items help hospitals, clinics, labs, and medical offices organise themselves. Clinical Storage guarantees fast access, rule compliance, and maximum space utilisation thanks to features including secure locking systems, easy-to-clean surfaces, and configurable options. Clinical storage is crucial for keeping a clean, effective, and patient-centred office, whether mobile carts, wall-mounted cabinets, or modular drawer units. For more information about Clinical Storage, visit: https://www.hydestor.co.nz

[ms2253]

Here, we demonstrate how Ginkgo Automation’s Reconfigurable Automation Cart (RAC) platform was leveraged to fully automate the HiBiT assay, ultimately generating high-quality data at large scale - nearly 10,000 samples - and thus enabling powerful hit identification, with 80% less hands-on time versus standalone lab automation instrumentation. Additionally, we show the ease with which users can onboard new capabilities and protocols onto a RAC system. In this application note, a new capability - plate reading, was enabled on an existing RAC system through a straightforward, single RAC addition, which took just 5 hours. This capability was added without the need for any significant lab automation system re-design.

[keepsdeathhiscourt]

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Original Female Character

Rating: Mature (18+ Only)

Summary: Journalist Andy Elliot’s life takes an unexpected turn when a chance encounter with Steve Rogers pulls her into the orbit of the Avengers. As she begins investigating a seemingly straightforward story, she uncovers threads of a deeper conspiracy that hint at something far more dangerous. Meanwhile, a growing connection with Steve adds an emotional complexity neither of them anticipated. But as the stakes rise, Andy realizes that her curiosity may have placed her in the crosshairs of powerful enemies—and that her bond with Steve might be the only thing keeping her alive.

Series Masterlist

Read on A03

Warnings: Violence, Language, Experimentation (the sciency kind)

Additional Tags: Tags: Canon Divergence, Also Canon Compliant (in a roundabout way), Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Protective Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Eventual Romance, Suspense, Strong Female Protagonist, Political Intrigue, Canon Typical Violence, Language

Prologue

Budapest, Hungary - Autumn, 2015

“11:35 AM, March 27th,” the examiner’s voice dictates to the small rectangular recorder, clinical and detached. “Patient shows no signs of physical trauma, though she remains largely unresponsive to verbal prompting.” Steve Rogers stands on the other side of the one-way glass, his gaze locked on the woman perched on the exam table. His broad shoulders are tense, his lips pressed into a grim line as he watches the man in the lab coat methodically place the recorder on a utility cart and retrieve a stethoscope. The metallic clink of the instrument is a sharp contrast to the sterile quiet of the room. Perched on the exam table, the woman’s fingers fidget with the paper cover, tearing off small pieces that flutter to the floor, forgotten as soon as they leave her grip. Her legs dangle listlessly over the edge, the bones of her ankles and shins dotted with deep blue and purple bruises—vibrant against the almost translucent skin. Steve watches as she shivers beneath the flimsy hospital gown despite the warmth of the room. The fluorescent lights cast a harsh, unforgiving glow, making her appear more fragile—if that’s even possible. It takes all Steve has not to look away from this hollow shell of a person. He wants to rush in and stop the poking and prodding, knowing all too well what it’s like to be on the other end of someone’s science experiment. But he knows it’s not that simple. The examiner presses the stethoscope to her back, heavy brows furrowed as he instructs her to breathe in, then out. She complies mechanically, her chest rising and falling with no more thought than a machine programmed to perform the same action. All the while, her eyes remain unfocused, fixed blankly at the glass, as though she can see Steve standing just beyond, though he knows she doesn’t. “No response to stimuli beyond basic instructions,” the man notes, retrieving the recorder. “Ten months in a HYDRA facility. Possible dissociation. Further psychological evaluation recommended.” His tone is impersonal as ever, with no address to the woman beside him. The words send a shiver down Steve’s spine. The agent standing next to him breaks the silence. “Do you know the subject, Captain?” The agent’s voice is casual, but Steve catches the curiosity beneath the surface. Her sharp eyes and slicked-back hair give her an air of practiced professionalism, but her tone grates on him. “She’s not a subject,” Steve says, his voice hard, a flash of anger breaking through his composure. “She’s a person.” Unperturbed by his curt tone, the agent raises an eyebrow, clearly expecting more. Steve takes a breath, reining in his emotions. He sighs. “Yeah, I knew her—know her.”

Though her expression is carefully neutral, he sees the gears turning in the agent’s mind—assessing, calculating. She’s waiting for more information, but Steve isn’t about to give it to her. He turns his attention back to the examination, watching the woman’s fingers tremble slightly as she clutches another torn paper corner. Then, the examiner turns around, fast enough to startle her, and something catches Steve’s eye. A flicker, barely noticeable, like a shimmer of crystal curling around the edge of the exam table. It’s so subtle that he almost dismisses it as a trick of the light. Until it happens again, this time more pronounced—a spidery layer of frost creeping across the metal surface, spreading out from her hand. Steve’s breath hitches. The agent’s posture straightens, the casual demeanor gone. The air in the room seems to drop in temperature, a chill seeping through the glass and into the observation room. “What the hell…?” the agent mutters, alarm edging her voice. Steve doesn’t answer, his eyes locked on the ice spreading out rapidly in delicate, lacy patterns. The woman doesn’t react, her clouded gaze fixed ahead, oblivious to the cold visibly swirling around her. The frost isn’t just spreading—it’s deepening, the metal beneath it groaning as it contracts, small cracks forming along its surface. His instincts scream at him to act, to do something, but he’s frozen in place, torn between disbelief and dread. He’s seen this before—once, on a grainy news clip at HQ, and then again when they’d arrived to take her into custody. The aftermath had been disastrous. The examiner’s head snaps up, finally noticing the sudden shift in the atmosphere. His eyes widen in shock as the temperature continues to plummet. Steve doesn’t wait. Ignoring the protests from the agent, he leans in, pressing the comm button. “Get her out of there,” he orders, his voice cutting through the growing tension, but it’s too late. The scientist screams as frost surges forward, an icy wave that shatters the calm, sterile environment. The glass divider fogs over and the temperature plummets, as long tendrils of ice obscure his view. The sound of cracking glass fills the room as the frost races across every surface, freezing everything in its path. Steve is already racing for the door when the alarms begin to blare. The agent is at his heels, her earlier composure completely disintegrating. As he reaches the door, Steve realizes the knob is frozen solid. He throws his shoulder into it once, then again, until the hinges give and the door flings wide. His boots skid against the glistening, frozen tile, a cold rush of air hitting him like a wall. His eyes dart around the room, taking in the scene. The woman sits at the center of it all, still motionless, but the frost is spreading, creeping up the walls and across the floor, moving faster than before. The agent stumbles in behind him, panic flashing in her eyes as she realizes the full extent of the situation. As Steve pushes forward, trying to reach her before it’s too late, one thought hammers through his mind: Whatever happens next, there’s no turning back. 

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Laboratory Equipment: Essential Tools for Research and Development

Microscopes are indispensable tools for laboratories as they enable researchers to see structures and features too small for the naked eye. Different types of microscopes like compound, stereo, and electron microscopes allow examination of cells, tissues and various samples at different levels of magnification. Compound microscopes have interchangeable objectives and ocular lenses that provide low to high magnifications from 40X to 1000X. Stereo microscopes give low magnifications from 6X to 120X and are ideal for viewing three-dimensional samples. Electron microscopes have resolutions down to the nanometer level and are crucial for cellular and molecular analysis. Microscopes continue advancing with techniques like fluorescence and confocal microscopy for live cell imaging. Laboratory Equipment: Pipettes and Dispensers Handling small liquid volumes accurately is critical in many experimental procedures. Pipettes available in various fixed and adjustable volumes are used to transfer samples, reagents, drugs and more between tubes, plates or vessels. Manual pipettes come in single channel and multichannel varieties for quickly dispensing set volumes. Electronic pipettes automate repetitive pipetting with adjustable speed and greater reproducibility. Dispensers are also available for liquid handling, dispensing adhesive liquids, organic solvents and even highly viscous materials. Automated liquid handlers are large capital equipment that can pipette thousands of samples in parallel for high throughput experiments. Centrifuges Centrifugation is a fundamental separation technique used across all types of laboratories. Benchtop centrifuges are simple bi-phasic models suitable for routine pelleting of cells, small particles and precipitates. They provide RCFs (relative centrifugal forces) from 1000 to 12000g. Preparative centrifuges have larger rotors and capacities for voluminous sample processing. Ultracentrifuges enable high speed sedimentation by developing enormous RCFs over 100,000g. Models for ultracentrifugation employ zonal, swinging bucket or fixed angle rotors depending on the separation goals. Selecting the right centrifuge based on sample type, size and desired separations is key for optimizing results. Laboratory Equipment: Spectrophotometers and Colorimeters Quantifying analytes through detection and measurement of light absorbance or transmittance is done using spectrophotometers and colorimeters. They are indispensable in analytical chemistry, biochemistry and molecular biology labs. Single beam spectrophotometers detect absorbance of a sample against a blank reference. Double or triple beam instruments allow simultaneous measurement of multiple samples and references. Colorimeters are compact single wavelength devices ideal for dedicated absorbance assays. Modern multi-mode readers combine varied features like fluorescence, luminescence, absorbance in a single box for versatility. Automated instruments speed up high throughput absorbance measurements in microplates. Advancements in detector and optic materials continue enhancing sensitivity and accuracy. Laboratory Equipment: Water Purification Systems Pure water is imperative for numerous analytical procedures and as a solvent in chemical reactions. Laboratories install point-of-use or centralized water purification systems to generate different grades of water for their needs. Reverse osmosis systems yield high purity water from tap or well sources. Ion exchange columns further polish RO water to Type I standards. Advanced systems integrate UV oxidation to minimize microbial growth and sub-micron filtration for generating ultra pure or Milli-Q water. Water qualities are certified through resistivity, TOC and particle testing. Laboratories also require simple dispensers of purified water right at the bench. Mobile cart-based purifiers deliver purified water anywhere as needed. Integrated systems optimize space and centralize management of water purification.

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Physics Lab Equipment Manufacturer, Suppliers and Exporter in India

Physics lab equipment manufacturer play a crucial role in providing educational institutions and research facilities with the tools they need to conduct experiments and advance our understanding of the physical world. These companies design, develop, and produce a wide range of equipment, from basic apparatus like meters and balances to sophisticated instruments like lasers and spectrometers. Types of Physics Lab Equipment 

Physics lab equipment encompasses a diverse array of instruments and apparatus used in various branches of physics, including:

Mechanics: Equipment for studying motion, forces, and energy, such as pendulums, dynamics carts, and inclined planes. Electricity and Magnetism: Equipment for investigating electrical and magnetic phenomena, including generators, galvanometers, and oscilloscopes. Optics: Equipment for exploring the properties of light, such as lenses, mirrors, and prisms. Heat and Thermodynamics: Equipment for studying thermal phenomena, such as calorimeters, thermometers, and heat engines.