#It’s the way he turns the Doctor round and almost looks ready to lean forwards lmao
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yaminerua · 2 months ago
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It’s so easy for my brain to trick itself into thinking they’re about to kiss here lmao
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welldonekhushi · 5 days ago
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Get to know about Anastasia before going through the short fic!
The halls of Pembroke Hospital were quiet, the usual sounds of coughing and groaning fading into the distance. Pippa and Anastasia had just finished their rounds. Both of them were exhausted, but they’d stolen a moment of peace with together outside the hospital for fresh air as they two were seated on a table. Pippa poured two cups of tea, sliding one toward Anastasia, who was staring off into space again, her fingers nervously tapping against the edge of the table.
Pippa watched her for a moment, her curiosity bubbling over. “Annie.” She said, breaking the silence. “May I ask you something?”
Anastasia blinked, shaking off her thoughts. “Of course. What is it?”
Pippa hesitated, as though picking her words carefully. “Well.. what do you think of Doctor Reid?”
Anastasia froze. Her first instinct was to laugh it off, but she could feel her face heat up. “What do you mean?” she asked, trying to sound casual.
Pippa tilted her head, giving Anastasia that knowing look. “I mean, professionally, yes, but also as a person. The way you two act, it almost seems like you’re.. well, like sweethearts.”
“I am not in love with him!” Anastasia blurted out, her voice sharp and almost too loud. She immediately regretted it, turning away as her chest tightened. The words felt wrong the moment they left her mouth. She clenched her hands, trying to steady her nerves.
But the thoughts wouldn’t stop. "Why did I say it like that?" She wondered. "Why does he stay on my mind? Is it the way he talks, the way he looks at me? There’s something about him.." She closed her eyes, as the questions swirled around in her head. "But no. I’m not in love. I can’t be."
“Annie?” Pippa’s voice snapped her back to reality, and she felt a gentle tap on her arm. “Are you alright? You went quiet on me.”
Anastasia shook herself out of it. “Yes.. yes, I’m fine,” she said quickly, though she knew she didn’t sound convincing.
Pippa raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got that faraway look again. No wonder Matron’s always telling you off for daydreaming.”
“I can’t help it if my mind wanders sometimes,” Anastasia muttered with a sigh, crossing her arms. Her voice wavered with frustration and weariness, but there was also a flicker of self-doubt.
Pippa smiled gently, but she wasn’t letting it go. “Wherever your mind wanders, it seems to wander straight to him.” She leaned forward slightly, her tone more serious now. “There’s no harm in admitting you admire him, Annie. You’ve been through so much.. in context, both of you have. It’s not a crime to feel something like this.”
Pippa reached out, taking Anastasia’s hand in hers. “Feelings don’t wait for permission, love. They come whether we’re ready or not. Just be honest with yourself. Whatever happens, I’ll be here.”
Anastasia shook her head, though her voice softened. “Admire him? Maybe..” She admitted, her words careful. “But love? I don’t know. I don’t think I have room for feelings like that.. no, not now. Not with everything going on. People are dying, Pippa. They’re counting on us. I barely even have time to think, let alone.. to feel.”
Anastasia’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “Thank you..” she said softly. But even as Pippa’s words reassured her, a familiar face crept into her thoughts again—those piercing blue eyes, that calm, commanding voice.
And as the silence settled between them, Anastasia couldn’t help but wonder if she was lying to herself after all.
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its-my-whump · 7 months ago
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Medwhump May- Day 9 Alt 15
Broken bones
@medwhumpmay
Tw: absolutely no medical accuracy, sorry, seizing, cpr, being ventilated
Part 9 (all others here)
Her o2 stats were rapidly decreasing, while her heart was picking up speed much too fast. It almost was, like she had long surpassed trachycadia and her heart seemed to be trying to compete against a starting jet.
xxx
"Hold on, hunny!" The doctor almost barked at his seizing patient pushing the syringe in her port. His big hand held her trembling left arm down, so that her skin turned white, where his fingers digged into her flesh. He pushed the plunger down all the way.
A short, but big male nurse had already pulled the nasal cannula from under her nose and just took a hold of the valve bag another nurse was handing over.
The machines were screaming, her heartbeat overturning itself. But her upper chest was hardly moving by itself anymore. The doctor had his stethoscop in his ears, right after he let go of her arm. His big handprint still clearly visible on her shaking body.
The mask of the vavle bag was put over her mouth and nose and the male nurse squeezed, but her ribs wouldn't really expand. "Fuck!"
The chest piece of the stethoscop was moved around, but the doctor's expression just confirmed her decreasing state. He frownd and ordered his staff to keep epinephrine standing by and get the defi ready. "We need to intubate now and get me an OR ready stat!" He barked. A small blond nurse turned on her heels and ran out to organise the operation room.
He pulled the stethoscope out of his ears and put it back around his neck.
Everybody was tensely staring at the violently shaking body for a brief moment, hoping that the diazepam would stop her from seizing, while the grey haired nurse handed her male colleague the laryngoscope.
The fast drumming of her head, hands and heals on the metaltable noticeably slowed, while the short man was already pushing the et tube down her throat.
The screaming sounds of the equipment were filling the room for another few seconds, then she just feel still.
The hectic jumbling zigzag on the heartmonitor fell to a horizontal line.
All staff jumped into gear without an obvious command. The male nurse had started to squeeze the ambu bag, now attached to the et tube in her windpipe. But her ribs wouldn't move upwards.
A tall young nurse straightened her arms and interlocked her fingers. The bruised landmark on the lifeless woman's sternum guided her hands, which she instantly pressed down into her chest. Even though, the blond nurse was tall, she needed to lean forward quiet a bit to summon the needed force and strength to manually pump the unmoving heart by caving the young lady's ribs in.
The grey haired nurse, that was there, when the lady started seizing, was already pushing epinephrine into the IV line in her left arm.
Ribs being bend in, hands and feet were pushed up against gravity, as her shoulders left the table by every forceful push. Not even half through the round of compressions, a rib shifted again and audibly broke under the tall woman's hands. She huffed astonished, but kept going, as if nothing had happened.
The young man to the patients right, was squeezing the vavle bag every few seconds, but her chest hardly expanded. Her o2 stats not climbing from that devastation low number.
The tall nurse finished her round of compressions and pulled her hands away. She was already out of breath, desperately looking at the monitor, before the doc even could demand a status check.
Nothing. The flateline stayed. "Epinephrine followed by anthrophine." The voice of the man in charge echoed through the room.
He looked at the tall nurse and the short man right after. "Change!"
The man handed her the ambu bag, so she could take it and continue to bag the young woman from the other side of the bed, while he was just about to lay his interlocked fingers on her sternum. Dark bruises in the middle of her chest from her last resuscitation were already there, new red ones had started to form at the edges of at least a few cracked ribs.
The male nurse was smaller then his tall colleague, but his arms were strong and the lifeless lady's ribcage started to carve in harshly.
Another rib just broke, but he kept going.
Until he reached the full 30 compressions, the sound of cracking or breaking ribs repeated itself a few times.
"Status?" The doctor yelled, when the nurse had finished, his strong hands stayed on her lifeless upper body. He could already feel her chest shaking under his hands, before someone even spoke up. "We got a shockable rhythm!"
"Lets roll!" The doc barked and with a more soothing, but still loud tone, he added. "You're not dying today, hunny!"
->Day10
My masterlist
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canyon1899 · 8 months ago
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Raiders of the Lost Ark – Alternative Ending
A short story by Canyon
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"You've done your country a great service and we thank you", said Colonel Musgrove to Indiana Jones. "And, uh, we trust you found the settlement satisfactory?"
"Oh, they money's fine", began Indy. "But the situation is totally unacceptable."
"Well, gentlemen, I guess this just about wraps it up", finished Major Eaton
"Where is the Ark?" asked Brody, his voice full of urgency and concern.
"I thought we'd settled that. The Ark is somewhere very safe", replied Eaton.
"From whom?" asked Indy.
Brody was having none of it: "The Ark is a source of unspeakable power and it has to be researched."
"And it will be, I assure you", began Eaton. "Doctor Brody, Doctor Jones. We have top men working on it right now."
Indy leaned forward: "Who?"
Eaton replied with just two words: "Top Men."
Just at that moment, there was a knock at the door.
Eaton sighed. "Come in!"
An older gentlemen dressed in a suit came in and approached Eaton. He then whispered something in his ear.
Eaton looked uncomfortable as the man left.
"Ah gentlemen", he began. "There appears to have been a misunderstanding. According to an almost forgotten law from the 1920's, we, the government cannot take the Ark away. Therefore, as you have already realized, you are free to display the Ark in a museum of your choosing."
Indy and Marcus looked at each other, a slow smile spreading across their faces.
Two days later.
After some well-deserved rest, Indiana Jones was ready to attend the grand opening display of the Ark of the Covenant.
He had just arrived at Marcus' museum and was on his way to the East Wing, where the opening was taking place.
Indy was clean shaven and was wearing a black tuxedo, complete with a red silk carnation on the lapel.
He walked through the door and was just about to take in the sight of the Ark, when several people noticed his entrance and gave a round of applause. Indy offered a slight lop-sided smile and bowed slightly.
Marcus approached him with a big smile on his face.
"Indy, it's so good to see you here!" said his friend, jubilantly. "The Ark, it seems, lights up the whole room!"
"Thanks Marcus. It's good to be here. Have you seen Marion?"
Just as he had spoken the words, he noticed an attractive figure enter the room.
It was Marion and she was wearing a red floor length evening gown and looked stunning.
Indy smiled and as he did, she saw him and smiled.
"Well Jones, you really did it", she said admiringly, as they both approached the Ark which was in the center of the room surrounded by thick glass.
"I did. You know something, Marion; the Ark is a lot like you."
"Yeah, how so?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
He turned to her, and put a hand round her waist. "Well, the Ark is stunning, beautiful to look at…"
He never finished his sentence as Marion's lips met his and they were both swept up in a glorious kiss.
Moments later, staff and reporters were gathered at the podium and Indy heard his name mentioned by Marcus a couple of times.
"I guess that's my cue", he told Marion.
Just as he was about to go, Marion grabbed his arm and pulled him into another kiss.
"Wow! What was that for?" he asked.
"For still being the man that I fell in love with ten years ago."
THE END
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mxchellesworld · 4 years ago
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Discuss!
Spencer Reid x Reader
Synopsis; Where the team discusses the question ‘do you kiss after head’, you find out Spencer has too little experience to answer the question so you help him out
Warnings; smut, oral (male receiving), sub!spencer, praise, slight degradation 
a/n; LMAO im so sorry for disappearing again life has been actually kicking my ass but anyways lately i’ve been thinking about subby early season spence so here we go,, hope you enjoy!
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***
Another Friday night and the team was out bar crawling after an easy case. But this time all members were there as it reached 11pm which was rare. Usually Hotch and JJ would have been home by 10:30 and Spencer wouldn’t have been there at all. But there was something light in the air which had all parties concerned sitting packed in a booth, laughing after each sip of their drinks. 
Since it wasn’t your first rodeo together you knew how the night went. It started off with Rossi offering to buy the first few rounds, always whiskey but he made an exception for Penelope. Then again who would deny her anything. 
Once the drinks were flowing and lips got a little loose, the questions would start popping in at the top of your heads. However these were not your run of the mill, ‘hows so and so doing?’ ‘done your taxes yet?’ oh no. The name of the game was discuss where you would all think of a question which would help you dig just a tiny bit deeper into your coworkers sex lives. 
Maybe if you were all sober then you’d avoid thinking of each other in such positions, pun intended, yet in this state your prying minds were open and your stomachs were ready to grow abs from bending over in laughter. 
You raised the margarita glass up clinking it with a fork to get the tables attention. Everyone including Aaron had a smile on their face, ready to hear the intrusive question for the night. 
“Ok my fellow profilers, doctor, and tech genius,” you added pointing at Spencer then Pen, “Do you kiss your partner after they give you head? Discuss!” you finished in your most formal voice. 
Right as you took a swig of your drink the mixed responses of yes and no filled your small space. 
“Why wouldn’t you? You guys especially, if someones willingly trying to swallow then you damn well owe them a kiss,” Emily finished earning nods and ‘exactly’s from JJ, Pen, and yourself. 
“Ok but thats weird. I just can’t explain it but its a no go for me,” Morgan finished. This only gained him a scoff and raised voices, “Hotch man help me out here,” he said looking over to the man hiding his smirk behind the amber liquid. 
“I have to agree with the ladies here Derek,” he said curtly. 
The girls yelped and hooted at Hotch for siding with them while Morgan sat with his arms crossed being the singular person left out as even Rossi agreed. Meanwhile you noticed the presence next to you had shrunk back and wasn’t too active in the conversation. 
“So Spence do you kiss your partner after they,” you trailed off shaking your fist by your cheek and poking your tongue in the side. 
He coughed as he instantly sat up quicker. Even under the dim lights of the bar you could still see the blush creeping up from his neck to his ears and the slightest tint on his cheeks. 
“Oh I uh- I never-” he said looking anywhere but your eyes. 
“You don’t kiss them?” you said raising your brows. 
“No! I-i mean yes. I would I think b-but I haven’t had the chance to actually partake in such.. activities,” he finished finally taking a look into your eyes. 
You could tell he was waiting for you to laugh in his face for being so inexperienced but you felt far from it. If anything you wished you could be the one to show him things. 
That sweet boy had you wrapped around his finger and he didn’t even know it. Maybe it was his naivety considering how exceptionally smart he was. Or maybe it was the cute sweater vests he wore and now he nervously tucked his hair behind his ears. All you knew was that you wanted Spencer Reid and tonight was your night to make it happen. 
You hummed taking in the information, “Well that’s not a bad thing Spence. Everything takes time,” you said putting your hand on his arm for comfort and giving him a smile. 
Going to turn back to face the table you almost didn’t hear Spencer go to speak again, “Do you?” 
Got him.
“Why don’t you find out pretty boy,” you said with a wink as you downed the rest of your marg. In the corner of your eye you could see Spencer shifting in his seat, subtly moving his bag to cover the slowly growing tent in his slacks. 
As the night went by you couldn’t help but really give him a show. You had popped open a button or two on the long sleeve you had on, since it was getting stuffy in the booth. Though when you leaned forward and jutted your chest out, the soft inhale of a breath from the man next to you was just serving as motivation to get bolder. 
For the last hour you called it quits on the alcohol and drank a few glasses of water before you drove home. Spencer had been uncharacteristically quiet ever since your little interactions. 
The team had all gotten up to say their goodbyes. Rossi going by and giving everyone a kiss on each cheek. Derek having to quite literally rangle Penelope from talking to passing by groups on their way out. Then there were two. 
You turned to the side where Spencer was nursing on his coke, “Hey pretty boy, it’s late, let me give you a ride home,” you said grabbing your belongings. 
“Y-yeah ok. Thanks Y/n,” he said getting up. You’d noticed how he still had the burnt orange bag over his crotch. He couldn’t still be hard could he? Well you’d love to find out. 
As gentlemanly as he was, Spencer opened the door for you to exit the building first. The whip of fresh night air cooling on your exposed chest and legs under your skirt. 
You unlocked your car and stepped in, Spencer waiting to hear the little beep signaling his side was open. As he sat down you heard him let out a little whimper. Your head shot over to look at him, you could tell from the flush on his cheeks he didn’t mean to let the noise out. 
Holding in your chuckle you started the ignition and pulled out of the lot, “Can I put on some music?” 
“Yeah I don’t mind,” he said looking over at you with his lips in a line. If it was anyone else, they’d probably think he was uncomfortable but you loved his tiny awkward smiles. 
The ride to his apartment was mostly silent besides a rare quip from Spencer about paper work or fact about an older building you had passed by. It fascinated you to no end hearing him talk. Spencer was a hand speaker, meaning he always used his hands waving them around and making gestures. The pale digits had you captivated. Probably a driving hazard but you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. 
You pulled up into one of the visitor spots and put the car in park. You looked over to see Spencer almost contemplating something. You’d seen the look on his face before when he was looking over puzzles. 
“Somethin on your mind Doc?” you said with a small smile. As cute as he looked when he was nervous, you’d never want him to feel uncomfortable around you. 
“Would you-,” he cleared his throat, “Wo- Would you maybe want to c-come inside?” 
“Of course Spence I’d love to,” you finished with a reassuring nod. 
As he led you upstairs you were giddy with anticipation. So what if nothing happened. He was your friend first and you were glad he was letting you into his personal space. Even if you wanted nothing more than to have him writhi-
“Y/n?” 
The door closing snapped you out of your thoughts. You didn’t even realize you were in his living room. The dark green walls and shelves bursting with books put a grin on your face, “Sorry Doc, just caught up in my thoughts. What did you say hun?” 
His brows practically raised to his hairline from hearing the pet name. While he was used to the names coming from Garcia they took a whole different light coming from your lips. 
“I was asking if you wanted water or something,” he said fiddling with the keys in his hands. Eyes darting everywhere but your face so you wouldn’t be able to see the flush rising on his cheeks. 
“No I’m fine thanks for asking though,” you said taking a seat on the worn leather couch. 
You reached for the tv remote making a face at Spencer to ask for permission. He nodded and you settled back turning on an old sitcom that played late at night. 
As the episode ended you both sat in silence. Again you didn’t mind but you could practically hear the cogs moving in Spencer’s brain. 
You were about to speak when he cut you off before you could even get a word out, “What did you mean by ‘why don’t you find out’.”
Gaining confidence you moved closer to where he was on the couch, slow enough for him to stop you in case he wanted to back out. 
“Well you have options pretty boy,” you said moving a leg to straddle him. Your hands instinctively going to his brown locks. You could’ve sworn you heard a little moan leave his chapped lips. Noted. 
“W-what are the options,” lust blown eyes looked up to yours. 
“One, you can put that mouth to good use on me,” you said trailing your finger over his bottom lip, “and let me cum over that pretty face.” 
His eyes shut hearing your words and you weren’t having it, “Nuh uh eyes on me honey,” instantly they were back on yours. 
“Or number two. I can suck you off and let you cum down my throat, but,” you paused making sure to roll your hips on his growing length, “ you have to give me a nice big smooch after.” 
The hands on your hips pulled you closer as he bucked his hips into you as you finished the sentence. It was clear which option was preferred. 
You moved to slide down in between his legs. You let your hands trail down his clothed thighs, causing him to jump. 
“Tsk such a needy boy,” you said mockingly, “Am I not going fast enough baby?”
“Please Y/n,” he all but whimpered. It was like music to your ears. 
Your hands went to his belt, looking up in his eyes for a final sign of permission. Once he nodded you quickly undid it and he lifted his hips to help get his pants down. You palmed him over his boxers, feeling the wet patch where he was already leaking pre cum. 
“Is this all for me Spence? Does the thought of my lips around you make you this hard,” you said taking him out of the striped confines. 
“Oh god please just,” he cut himself off. You could see his hands curling fists besides his legs. 
“Please what baby? I can’t give you anything unless you ask.” Your hands continued their task of leisurely stroking his length. 
“Fuck please put your mouth on me,” he rushed out, hips bucking to prove his point. 
The answer was good enough for you so you wasted no time in leaning forward and taking him in your mouth. Both of you let out content sighs as you tried to take him further. 
You looked up to see him with his head leaned back, eyes scrunched closes in pleasure. 
You pulled off with a pop, letting your hand work him over. “Better keep those pretty eyes on me before I decide you can’t finish.”
He looked down with a flash of worry, that was quickly replaced by a loud moan as you spit down on his cock before taking him in your mouth again. 
For a germaphobe, Spencer loved how nasty it was. He was thanking god or whatever higher being there was for giving him his eidetic memory because the sight below him was something he’d never wanna forget. 
Your eyes were teary and you had spit dribbling down your chin but he wanted nothing more than to give you more than just a kiss after you finished. Or well after he finishes. 
You could tell he was close by the way he was throbbing on your tongue. Again taking him out of your mouth you used both hands to jerk him off. 
“You’re doing such a good job baby. So good for me. You wanna cum in my mouth pretty boy?”
“God Y/n I’m so close please please please,” he whimpered out. 
“Cum for me baby, be my good boy Spence,”  you said before taking him down your throat. He was big, not girthy but long and it was a struggle but you’d be damned if you didn’t try to take him all. 
Hollowing your cheeks you bobbed your head quickly, egging on his release further. His hands finally found a place in the back of your head. Pushing you down further as he came. 
“F-fuck Y/n I’m gonna”
His moans and whines were a symphony of sounds you’d have on repeat in your head forever. 
You swallowed the salty release but before you could even wipe your lips you were being pulled up by Spencer placing his lips on yours. You moaned into the kiss, his hands gripped the sides of your face not wanting to let you go. 
The need for air made you both pull back. You looked at one another, chests heaving and looking like you ran a marathon. 
Then a sad look came across his face. 
“Spencer what’s wrong?” 
“You didn’t get any pleasure,” he said looking like a hurt puppy. Oh your sweet boy. 
“It’s ok baby, I can take care of myself,” you tried to shrug off.
He was quick to push you back on the couch, taking the spot you were previously in. His warm lips trailing down your exposed thighs. 
“I wanna do it, but only if you kiss me after.” 
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wandanatfluff · 3 years ago
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A dream come true
Short series Fluff
This is part of a series. I highly recommend reading Seven words first.
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader
Summary: Natasha and Y/n go and visit Melina, Yelena and Alexei, Natasha’s parents and sister. Something unexpected happens. (This takes place about 7,5 months after Seven words, meaning the reader is now about 8,5 months pregnant.) No spoilers!
Warnings: Description of giving birth (nothing bloody or too detailed though)
Word count: 2.2 K
A/n: Part two!
Natasha parks the car on the small farm and you let out a heavy sigh as you feel the baby kick, earning you a worried look from your wife.
“You sure you feel good enough?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine, just a firm kick.”
You give Natasha a reassuring smile, allowing her to relax a bit. You move your hand to the doorhandle and open it, you wait for your wife to round the car, so she can help you to get out of the car. You’re almost nine months pregnant by now, which means your bump has grown quite big. Natasha holds her arm around your waist as the two of you walk to the door. Melina immediately answers the door, before Natasha could even ring the doorbell.
“If that isn’t my favorite daughter in law!”
“Привет. Как поживает моя любимая свекровь” (Hello. How is my favorite mother-in-law doing?) You say to Melina in your best Russian. “Ну, кто-то практиковал свой русский.” (Well, someone has been practicing their Russian.)
“Yeah, I got kinda sick of doing nothing. Natasha didn’t even let me walk to the grocery store.”
“Ho, stop. Don’t go there, I was just following the doctor’s orders.” Natasha says as the two of you enter the house.
“I know baby. I’m sorry.” You say, giving her a kiss on her cheek. Natasha takes your coat off your shoulders and hangs it on a hook. You smile at her. You suddenly get a little light headed, reaching for Natasha’s arms. She holds on to you tight, letting you lean on her until you’re feeling well again.
“You guys can sit on the couch. I’ll get you something to drink.” Melina walks to the kitchen and comes back with a glass of water. Natasha sits down sideways on the couch with her legs slightly apart, so you can sit between them, opening her arms. Gratefully you rest your back against her front. You take the glass of water Melina hands you and take a few sips, before handing it to Natasha, who puts it on the side table.
“Sorry about back there. I am really thankful for everything you do. I know I have been quite the pain in the ass lately.”
“What? No baby, you’re no pain in my ass. I love taking care of you, especially when you’re nauseous, sick and throwing up all over my new clothes… It’s cute.” Natasha says with a playful smirk on her face.
“Come on Tash, really? I’ve told you I’m sorry a hundred times.” You whine, putting your head in your neck, so you can see Natasha. She gives you a kiss on the tip of your nose.
“I guess you’ll just have to buy me a new one.” She chuckles, giving you another kiss. You move your eyes forward again, letting your head rest on Natasha’s chest as you close your eyes.
You begin to doze off, when a loud voice startles you awake. You quickly sit up straight, the action causing you to collide with Natasha’s chin, which was resting on your head. After you apologize to Natasha, you look at the source of the noise. Alexei is standing in the doorway, speaking loudly.
“Y/n!”
He walks over to you, pulling you into a tight hug. You gasp for breath as he nearly squeezes you.
“Alexei! Careful, you’re smushing her and the baby.”
“Oh, sorry. I forgot.” Alexei quickly steps away, his face turning slightly red.
“It’s okay. Good to see you too, you smile at him. You then look back at your wife’s scared expression. You reassure her you’re okay, before leaning back again. You make some small talk with Melina and Alexei about the Avengers and about how the farm is doing. You talk about the pigs, the chickens and the new horse they recently bought.
Around five o’clock Yelena comes in. It had started to rain just after you and Natasha had arrived and the blonde entered the house, soaking wet. Melina handed Yelena a small towel and when she was mostly dry again, she greeted you and Natasha.
“Hey sis and her preggy wife.”
“Hey Yel.” You both greet her and she carefully gives you a hug.
“How are the two of you doing?” She asks you.
“We’re doin-” Nat starts.
“No, not you Nat. Y/n and the little guy.” Yelena interrupts Nat. You frown at her words. You slowly turn your head to Nat, to see her looking at Yelena with an angry face.
“Yelena.” Nat exclaims annoyed.
“It was supposed to be a surprise.”
“It doesn’t matter, Nat. I’m sure Melina and Alexei can keep it a secret for the next two weeks or so.”
“Wait! You’re 8,5 months already?” Yelena interrupts you. Shouldn’t you be at home, resting?”
“That’s what I have done for the last few months. I’ve got enough sleep for a lifetime, read every book in the bookcase and watched every film on Netflix, Prime Video and Disney+. So I got a little bored, you know?” "Yeah... of course."
After you talked for another hour or so and Melina finished cooking, you all ate together. Although the food was delicious, you only ate a small amount, earning yourself a few concerned looks from Natasha. You felt her hand on yours as she softly whispered something.
“You okay, honey?”
You hummed in a response.
“I’m just a little tired I guess.” Natasha nodded and after desert she stood up, announcing your departure. You felt Melina’s eyes on you.
“Are you sure honey? You can sleep here if you want. It’s quite a long way home. Yelena is staying over too. You and Nat can have the spare room, you just have to refresh the sheets. Yelena can sleep on the couch.”
“I’m sorr-” Yelena protested, but one look from Melina and she nodded her head.
“I actually think that we would rather sleep in our ow-” Natasha was about to reject the offer, but you pulled her sleeve, stopping her from finishing.
“Actually, we would really appreciate that. Thank you, Melina.”
“You walked your pregnant body down the hall slowly, taking forever. Natasha came after you, supporting you.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go home?”
“I’m really tired Tash and the weather outside is only getting worse. I don’t want us to have to stop halfway the ride, or worse, crash against a tree.”
“Yeah, me neither. Let’s get you to bed.”
Natasha helped you get to bed. She brushed your hair and made the bed, while you sat on the chair. You nearly dozed off and you were almost asleep when you felt Natasha pick you up bridal style, carrying you to the bed. You didn’t protest, you were too tired. You laid your head against Natasha’s shoulder as she let you down on the bed. She gently put the sheets over you. You put one arm above the sheets, laying it over your belly protectively. Natasha gave you a sweet kiss on your forehead and walked to the bathroom. You relaxed your body, ready to fall asleep, when you felt Natasha getting under the blankets behind you, wrapping her arm around you, her hand covering yours on your belly. You gave in to her warmth for a moment before saying:
“Tasha baby, you don’t have to go to bed too just because I’m tired.”
“But…” She protested.
“No baby, get out of bed. I can fall asleep on my own fine.” You felt a kiss on the back of your head, before Natasha got out of bed.
“Sleep well baby.” She whispered, before quietly closing the door.
*** Ow
You opened your eyes, half-awake as you felt a wave of pain going through your body. You put both hands on your belly, the source of the pain. The pain slowly faded as you were still hugging your own body. You took a few minutes to fully wake up. You turned around, reaching out to Natasha. She wasn’t next to you.
“Hey babe.” You heard her voice, you looked up at her. She was sitting in a chair, reading a book. She stood up from her chair, walking to you.
“What’s wrong.” You were about to answer her, when another wave of pain hit you and you curled up in pain. Natasha’s eyes widened.
“Is- is it time?” You nodded as you puffed away the pain.
“Yes… I think… so.” Natasha’s eyes widened even further. Her demeanor suddenly changed. She couldn’t panic right now. You needed her.
“What can I do?”
“Get Melina.” You answered. Melina rushed to your room. She sat down next to you. Her hand on your back. She spoke to you softly.
“When the next contractions hits, I will measure the time between them. All you have to do is puff them away. You probably learned that at delivery training, right? You nod. Another contraction hits. Melina looks at her watch, puffing with you. A minute goes by and the contraction ends. You relax your body and look up at Natasha, who is standing in front of you like a statue, with a pale face. Melina looks at Natasha too and as soon as she sees her daughter, she orders her to sit down.
“Sit down, Natasha. We don’t need for you to faint.”
Natasha listens to Melina’s orders and sits down on a chair.
Ten minutes go by before another contraction hits you, forcing a cry to leave your throat. You feel a wet pool forming between your legs and you grab Melina’s arm.
“I think… my water broke.”
The contraction ends and Melina helps you to get up from the bed. You stand next to the bed, leaning on Natasha, who has stood up from her chair. Melina quickly pulls the sheets off the bed, throwing them in the corner of the room.
“Stay here for a minute. If she has another contraction, puff with her until it ends and measure the time between them.”
Melina leaves the room, going to her own room.
“Wake up Alexei.”
“I’m already awake.” He grumbles.
“Some idiot decided it would be a good idea to scream and-”
“Y/n’s in labor, now get out of your bed and put a pan with water on the stove.” Alexei quickly gets out of his bed, rushing to the kitchen. Not intending to be anywhere near you when you give birth to your son. Melina quickly gets some towels from her closet, laying them on the bed, before heading back to your room. She enters the room as another contraction makes its way through your body. Melina orders Natasha to carry you to her room.
Natasha picks you up bridal style and you hold on to her tight, your screams muffled into her shirt. She lays you down on Melina’s bed and carefully helps you undress you lower body. You make yourself as ‘comfortable’ as possible, letting your back rest against some pillows as Melina stand at the end of the bed between your legs. She tells you it’s time to push and you hold on tight to Natasha’s hand, almost squeezing it.
*** Melina carefully hands you the little guy, after she cleaned him with the water Alexei warmed and wrapped him in a light blue blanket. With tears staining your cheeks, you take him and press him against your chest. After you give the little guy a kiss you look to your left, at Natasha.
Her eyes are red from crying, her chest moving up and down quickly. You give her the little boy. With shaking hands, she takes him from your hands, afraid she’ll drop him. He’s the most beautiful thing she has ever seen. More tears start to fall.
It warms your heart, looking at your wife with your son. She is crying, but you know they’re happy tears. Her dream of being a mother finally came true. The two of you had a son. You knew she would be the best mother ever as she looked up at you, her eyes full of love.
You gesture her to sit down next to you and you wrap her and your son in your arms. Nat lays her head against your chest.
“What do you think of James? After Bucky?” Nat suggests.
“James.” You repeat “James Romanoff. Perfect.”
“Romanoff?” Natasha asks, looking up to meet your eyes.
“Romanoff. After his mom.”
A/n: When it says ‘your son’, ‘your’ is in plural, like Y/n’s and Natasha’s son.
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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 4 years ago
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Words: 6,765 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, coerced marriage, gore, violence, sexuality, typical TWD stuff (recommended NC17+) A/N: This part is LONG! This is part of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: Safe in Hilltop, Daryl worries about Y/N and rushes her to the doctor.
Your name: submit What is this?
Daryl looked desperately at Maggie. You were completely limp in his arms, your head lolled toward his chest. “Where’s the doctor here?” he asked.
“This way.” Maggie, Sasha, and Enid hurriedly led the way to the medical trailer. Daryl glanced down at your face as he walked. You seemed to be breathing okay, but you were extremely pale.
Dr. Carson spun around as Daryl busted inside. He immediately dropped the papers in his hand and rushed over as Daryl rested you down as gently as he could on one of the beds. “What happened?”
Daryl shrugged. “Dunno. She just went pale and then she was out.”
Dr. Carson grabbed your wrist and felt for your pulse, keeping his eyes on the second hand of his watch. “Her pulse is a little elevated.” He looked at Daryl as well as the concerned faces of Maggie, Sasha, and Enid gathered around on the other side of your bed. He grabbed a blood pressure cuff and returned to your side.
Daryl’s expression was overwhelmed with concern. He brushed your hair off your face and anxiously chewed on his bottom lip.
“Do we have any guesses?” Dr. Carson asked, watching the dial on the cuff. He noticed that Daryl looked like he needed some treatment, too…
Daryl paused thoughtfully for a moment. “We just came from The Sanctuary,” he said darkly. “Escaped. If I had to guess, I’d say she ain’t been eatin’ or sleepin’.” He ran a hand back through his dirty hair. “And, uhh… she’s—probably some… some trauma. I dunno about injuries.” He realized that it was entirely possible you had lied to him about not being hurt. He shifted his weight anxiously, avoiding everyone’s eyes, and grabbed one of your hands gently in his. It felt small, fragile. You’d always seemed to be made of such strong stuff, Kevlar. This wasn’t right.
Dr. Carson nodded stoically. “Alright. Could be in shock. Why don’t the rest of you wait outside briefly? Enid, help me get her changed into a gown and checked over. We’ll hang an IV and get her hydrated, get some nutrients in her. Hopefully all she needs is rest.”
Daryl was hesitant to release your hand and stared at Enid and Dr. Carson as they rushed into action. Maggie noticed his unwillingness to leave and touched him gently on the arm. “Daryl. Come on. Let’s just wait outside a minute.” He shifted his weight back and forth, still staring down at your closed eyes and pale face. “Dr. Carson will take care of her. She’s gonna be just fine, but they need room to work. C’mon.”
He gave your hand a gentle squeeze and reluctantly rested it back down on your stomach, allowing Sasha and Maggie to lead him outside. When the trailer door closed behind him with a snap he flinched, and he immediately sunk down on the steps, hanging his head in his hands, elbows propped on his knees.
Sasha put a gentle hand on his shoulder. He tensed. “She’s gonna be fine, Daryl. Dr. Carson is really good. She probably just needs some fluids and rest.”
He showed no sign of having heard her. All he could think about was how this was his fault.
About fifteen agonizing minutes later, the creak of the trailer door behind him sent Daryl rocketing to his feet. He looked up to see Enid in the doorway. She stepped out as Sasha and Maggie, also waiting nearby, rose to their feet too.
“Her blood pressure and heart rate have stabilized but she’s still out. Dr. Carson says she’ll probably just wake up when her body is ready to.”
Daryl was pacing in front of the steps now, rubbing a hand over his mouth and the stubble on his face. “Is she, uhh—Did ya check her over? Is she—she hurt somehow?” he asked desperately.
Enid shook her head. “Nothing that we could see or detect. Everything looks fine. She’s probably just in shock and dehydrated.”
Maggie stepped forward as Daryl froze in place again, staring down at his boots. His face was dark. “Daryl—what happened? How’d you get out?”
His hands clenched into fists and he shut his eyes. He felt like he could be sick. “She, uhh—” There was a quiver in his voice. “She came there to get me out. She—before Alexandria—she was a prisoner there and, uhh—” He was having a hard time getting the words out through his emotion, his face screwing up and his jaw clenching. He looked up and met Sasha’s eyes. “She was one of his ‘wives’,” Daryl growled. “She did it to save her brother. But when I got taken, she went back.” He began pacing again, pressing a hand over his face. “She went back to him, to Negan. She went back in so she could get me out.”
That was all he could get out. He collapsed again on the steps and immediately began anxiously chewing his thumbnail again.
The gravity of what Daryl had just said was settling over Maggie, Sasha, and Enid. Maggie collapsed back against the planter behind her. “Oh my God,” she uttered. “I had no idea.”
Daryl shook his head and shrugged. “She didn’t tell anyone. She didn’t want anyone to know.”
Rage flashed in Sasha’s eyes. “That sick son of a bitch. Did he do something to her?” she asked Daryl.
Daryl shook his head, refusing to look at anyone, turmoil churning in his chest, guilt crushing him so much he felt like he couldn’t take in air. “Depends on what ya mean by ‘somethin’,” he growled.
“Oh my God,” Maggie said again, pressing a hand over her mouth.
Enid lightly touched Daryl’s shoulder. “Dr. Carson wants to look you over. At least the gunshot wound.”
“’M fine,” he barked back.
“Probably. But just let us check,” she said gently.
Daryl hesitated for a moment, but finally conceded and stood. “Fine. But I’m sittin’ right beside her ‘til she wakes up.” Enid nodded and Daryl followed her back into the trailer.
Outside, Maggie and Sasha exchanged another distraught look.
“I didn’t know. About her brother. About Negan—any of it,” Sasha said. “Did you?”
Maggie shook her head. “No. But she was always really private. Never talked about her past. I can see why. How do you even begin to explain somethin’ like that to someone?”
“Until she talked about The Saviors that day, here, I never—but even then she didn’t say—"
Maggie shook her head. “Goin’ back. To him. To that? Knowing what he’d done to our people. What he was capable of. I can’t imagine…”
Sasha nodded, wide-eyed. “Yeah… I mean, I knew she was a badass. I’ve fought walkers beside her but—” She shook her head again, her lips parting in disbelief.
“She did it for Daryl,” Maggie said quietly, smoothing a hand over her belly. _ _ _ _ _ _
Sometime later, Maggie went back over to the medical trailer to see how you were doing. When she got inside, Dr. Carson was taking inventory of the drugs in the cabinet and he nodded toward the far corner in response to her questioning look.
When she rounded the curtain divider, she saw Daryl sitting at your bedside, leaning forward in a chair, anxiously chewing his thumbnail. His gaze was fixated on your face, but his blue eyes seemed unfocused.
Maggie stepped forward and lightly rested a hand on your arm. “How is she?”
Daryl shook his head almost imperceptibly and shrugged.
“Has she woken up at all?” Maggie asked him.
He shook his head again and straightened up in his chair. “Nah. Not yet.”
Maggie took in the worn and exhausted look on Daryl’s face, the bruises, the layers of dirt on his skin. “You should go get cleaned up. I’ll sit with her. Enid can show you where you can stay.”
He shook his head, leaning forward onto the edge of your bed with his elbows. “Nah. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”
“She’ll be okay,” Maggie said, but knowing better than to try to persuade Daryl to leave. Nothing short of sheer force would have moved him. “Are you alright?”
He shrugged vaguely. “Doc says I’m okay.”
“Good. That’s good. But not exactly what I meant.” She waited, but he didn’t respond. “I’ll bring you some food.” She rested her hand gently on Daryl’s shoulder and felt him stiffen beneath her touch, but he hardly acknowledged it. Once Maggie had disappeared around the curtain, he reached out and grasped your hand in his again. It felt a little cold, and he rubbed it gently between his palms. And he waited.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Dr. Carson came to check on your vitals again around midnight and found Daryl slumped over on the edge of your bed, his head resting on his arms. He jumped awake the sound of the doctor’s footsteps.
“Sorry,” Dr. Carson said softly.
Daryl rubbed the sleep from his eyes and glanced at your face. He rested his hand on yours again. “How is she?” he asked, his voice a gruff rasp.
The doctor finished listening to your pulse and your lungs, and reached for the blood pressure cuff. “All her vitals are good,” he said. “She went through a traumatic experience?” he asked, a glance at Daryl’s expression.
His brow drew down low over his eyes and his face darkened. He nodded.
“Then her mind and body probably just need time to be turned off for a while. And if she wasn’t sleeping or eating, she needs to recover the things her body’s missing.” He checked the level of the IV drip bag. “That’s what this is for.”
“Ya didn’t find—anything physical? She wasn’t beat up or—?”
Dr. Carson shook his head. “No. Nothing like that. Nothing like what you went through.” He paused, but Daryl showed no sign that he was going to respond. “You went through trauma too. Physical and otherwise. You should also get some rest,” he said kindly. “I promise she’s in good hands here.”
Daryl nodded. “I know. I just—she’d be here for me. So. I’m gonna be here for her.”
_ _ _ _ _ _
Daryl awoke to the sound of tweeting birds outside the next morning and slowly lifted his head off his arms, which were resting on the edge of your bed. He rubbed at his tired eyes and glanced over at you. He shot upright, his chair clattering back and squeaking on the floor. Your eyes were open. He grabbed your hand and you gave it a squeeze.
“Y/N,” he said, leaning over you. “Doc!”
You looked tired and a little groggy but you were awake, looking up at him. Your lips curved in a small smile at his reaction on realizing you were awake.
“Why the hell didn’t ya wake me up?” he asked you, studying your expression.
“Because you need sleep,” you said softly.
He rolled his eyes. “You’re the one in the damn hospital bed and you’re tryin’ to take care of me still? Stop,” he drawled. Dr. Carson arrived at your side and grinned down at you. “Good to see you awake,” he said, putting his stethoscope in his ears and listening to your heart and lungs. “How are you feeling?”
Daryl was standing anxiously at your side, rocking on his feet.
“Tired,” you said softly. “And a bit confused.” You looked back over at Daryl. “What happened? I remember getting here and then—nothing.”
He nodded, his nose nudging up slightly. “Ya just passed out all of a sudden.”
You frowned. “Oh. How long was I out?”
“Overnight,” Dr. Carson replied, letting the pressure out of the blood pressure cuff. “BP is normal.” He took in the color in your cheeks. “You look better. But I’d like you to stay here today and overnight again, just in case. We’ll keep giving you some more fluids and you need to eat and rest,” he emphasized. He put a hand kindly on your shoulder. “You’ve been through a lot. Take it easy.”
You looked back over at Daryl. His expression was disturbed and you felt a lump forming in your throat. You tried to swallow it but it didn’t budge.
“Are ya alright?” Daryl asked you. “Really?
You turned your eyes back up toward the ceiling and flashes of Negan surged forward in your mind. You could almost feel his hands on you, feel his lips on you. You shut your eyes tight and shrugged. “I don’t know,” you said softly. “But I will be.” You glanced back over at him. “Have you been here this whole time?”
He nudged his nose up twice in a nod. “Ya. And I ain’t leavin’. So dun even try.” He pulled his chair back over to your bedside again and sat down.
You studied his face, the bruises still glaring out at you. “You should go get cleaned up. And I hope you’ve been eating and—”
“I ain’t goin’ anywhere until you’re gettin’ out of here.” He held up a dirty plate though. “I’ve been eatin’. Sasha and Maggie keep shovin’ food on me.”
You nodded and sighed, feeling suddenly tired again. “Good. But you should shower, get some clean clothes that fit better…”
“Hey—” he said forcefully, grabbing your hand. You looked down at it in surprise. “I ain’t leavin’ ya in here alone.”
Your eyes flitted between his. “I’m okay. You can take care of you.”
He sighed heavily and shook his head. “Nah. ‘M good.”
Not too long after that, you drifted off to sleep again.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Daryl kept true to his word and slept slumped over at your bedside again despite your continued protests, waking every once and a while and studying your face, the relaxed pout of your lips. By the time you awoke the next morning and Dr. Carson came by, you were more than ready to get out of the medical trailer.
“You’re sure she’s alright,” Daryl asked, walking with Dr. Carson toward the door. You were changing into some clean clothes Maggie had brought by behind the curtain in the corner.
Dr. Carson nodded. “She is. She just needs to take it easy a while. Lots of rest and water. And you too,” he said, giving Daryl a sharp look. “You know where to find me if there’s anything you need.”
Daryl looked hesitant but he nodded. “Thanks,” he said gruffly. He pushed outside and found Enid waiting at the bottom of the stairs.
“Hey. Maggie sent me to show you where you and Y/N can stay.”
Daryl nodded, shrugging his hands into his pockets. “She’s just changin’,” he said. Enid nodded and they both patiently waited. The trailer door creaked open and you came down the steps looking like you were almost back to your old self.
“Good to see you up,” Enid said kindly, smiling at you. Enid showed you to a trailer that was sparsely furnished, but there was a bathroom and a couch and a large bed in one corner, along with a dining area and a little kitchenette. “We had other plans for this trailer but I think it will be better suited for you two for now, while you’re here. Unless you wanted to stay up in Barrington house,” she said.
“This is perfect.” You turned back to Enid. “Thank you.”
She nodded and smiled. “Maggie, Sasha, and I are just in the trailer right next door. It’s actually Jesus’ but he’s out on a run. But in case you need anything, that’s usually where you can find us.” She headed for the door but turned back with her hand on the doorknob. “I’m really glad you’re both here. And that you’re okay.”
You gave her a warm smile before she went out. The door snapped closed behind her and you suddenly felt completely lost, like you didn’t even know what to do with yourself.
You realized Daryl was standing close in front of you and you looked up, your eyes following up his broad chest, and landed on his face. He must have been able to read something in your expression.
He felt a constriction in his throat as you met his eyes and he finally realized how scared he actually had been when you had passed out. “Ya scared me,” he rasped.
You looked down toward your boots. “Sorry. I don’t know what happened.”
“I do,” he said. “Ya were so worried about me ya weren’t taking care of you.” His hands closed gently around your shoulders and as you looked up at him, into his blue eyes, you finally went to pieces, suddenly overwhelmed with everything that had happened. Tears poured down your cheeks and your shoulders shook as you tried to gasp in breaths, wanting to pull yourself together but feeling helpless to in that moment.
Daryl’s chest ached. He quickly pulled you against him and held you tight, feeling each hitch of your shuddered breaths. He just held you while you cried, squeezing his eyes shut against a few tears of his own born of rage and sadness and regret. And eventually your breathing evened out and smoothed beneath his hands, and you pulled gently back and wiped the tear streaks from your cheeks, looking up at him. He simply nodded.
You crossed the room and sank down on the couch, staring vaguely at the opposite wall, pressing a hand up to your forehead, leaning forward with your elbows on your knees for a long moment.
Daryl just stood a short distance away, chewing on his bottom lip… wishing he could read your mind.
At length you sat up again after rubbing both your hands down over your face. “I’m okay,” you whispered, seeing that he was still intent on you, his eyes narrowed. “Really.” You tilted your head in the direction of the bathroom. “You should go get cleaned up. I’ll be right here,” you said.
“Ya sure?”
You nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
Daryl grabbed some clean clothes and went into the bathroom and shut the door quietly behind him. He stared at himself in the mirror for a long moment. It’d been so long since he’d seen himself. He sighed heavily and stripped off his clothes. He turned on the shower and stepped into the hot stream of water, gasping at the sensation of it pouring over his skin, leaning his head back and letting it run over his face, soaking his sore and bruised body. He hastily washed his hair and scrubbed all the built-up dirt and grime from his skin, wincing a little as his hands moved roughly over bruises on his ribs and back from his last beating.
At length, Daryl came out of the bathroom. His wet hair was sending drops of water down to pepper his shirt. He looked so much better, just having gotten the dirt and grime rinsed off his skin and out of his hair and you couldn’t help smiling at him.
“Better?” you asked.
“Mhm,” he hummed.
You were waiting on the couch with a first aid kit and beckoned him over with a nod. He licked his bottom lip and huffed a little but wandered over and sat down next to you. You grabbed some alcohol pads and took his hand, the one with the split knuckles and swelling, pulling it over onto your lap. You cleaned it up and put some ointment on his knuckles. The whole time you felt nervous with his hand in yours and Daryl was feeling an obnoxious flutter in his chest as your fingers floated over his skin. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.
“You should have had Dr. Carson look at this—make sure it isn’t broken,” you said, pausing with the bandage in your hand.
“Nah. S’fine,” Daryl said.
You gave him a knowing look. “It could be a boxer’s break,” you said, starting to wrap the bandage gently over his knuckles and around his palm. “Happens when you punch a hard surface. Like a wall,” you said quietly. Your words suggested you knew exactly how he had injured his hand, that night after he had been forced to see you on Negan’s lap.
Daryl gulped and avoided your eyes. “Ain’t broken.”
You nodded. “Okay. There. Done.” You looked up at his face and realized he truly looked exhausted. “You need real rest,” you said. “Not locked in a cell rest or slumped over at my bedside rest.”
“’M fine,” he said, getting up and going over to the table to grab some food from the basket Maggie had left for you both.
Your brow furrowed and you gave him a look.
“What?”
“No,” you repeated, shaking your head. “You’ve been sleeping, or not sleeping, on a hard floor as long as they had you. And you haven’t slept properly since we got here.”
He stared at you with narrowed eyes, getting ready to argue.
“Daryl. I’m fine. And we’re safe. You can rest.” It was like your permission was the last thing he needed. You watched his shoulders visibly slump. He conceded. “Alright…” He walked over to the bed and laid down carefully. You could tell he was in pain when he moved and your brow furrowed.
He adjusted the pillow under his head. “Well, what are ya gonna do?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe go fill in Maggie. Tell her what happened.”
A shadow darkened his face. “I told her a little. After you were, ya know, with the doc. But not much.”
You nodded. “Okay.” You started toward the door and he sat back up halfway.
“Hey. Just—ya ain’t goin’ outside the walls, right?”
` ` You shook your head. “No.”
“Promise me,” he growled.
His concern was clear. You nodded. “I promise. Get some rest.”
Daryl watched the door close behind you and sighed, sinking back onto the bed and draping an arm over his eyes. Part of him wanted to ask you to stay… but what would he say? That he needed you nearby? Needed to know you were safe? That he wanted you right beside him… He wasn’t feeling brave enough for that yet no matter how badly he wanted it.
You walked to the next trailer over and the door was propped open, letting in the sunshine and a breeze. Maggie was sitting at the table eating a snack and looking over some papers. Enid was sitting nearby.
“Hey,” Maggie said, giving you a smile. “You look better. It’s good to see you out and about. Where’s Daryl?”
You nodded and shoved your hands into your pockets. “I convinced him to try and get some actual sleep.”
“Good. He needs it,” she said, her eyes turning a little sad. “Ya know, he completely refused to leave your side while you were out.” She gave you a pointed look and you felt your cheeks flush but you pretended you hadn’t heard her. “What’s up?”
“Umm, I just thought—maybe I’d fill you in on what happened. And I wondered if you knew anything about everyone back in Alexandria.”
She nodded. “To my knowledge everyone else back home is alright. Rick’s been scavenging for the Saviors. They’ve been making pick-ups so far for Negan. But supplies are getting scarce.”
You nodded.
“Come on and sit down,” Maggie said.
“Do you want me to go? I could—”
“It’s alright, Enid,” you said kindly. “No reason for you to leave. I don’t have anything left to hide at this point…” You heaved a deep breath and let it out. “I haven’t even told Rick any of this yet because before I could Daryl was gone. And I just went after him, to get him back. I didn’t want to wait another second.”
Maggie nodded and her brow furrowed as she listened intently. “He told us. Just a little bit. About what you did. You don’t have to tell us anything more if you don’t want to.”
“It’s okay. I—I think I’d rather just get it out, you know?” You related your story to her and Enid. You were grateful they didn’t interrupt you because you were afraid if you stopped you wouldn’t be able to start up again. You explained what you had done to get Daryl out, going back to Negan and being one of his ‘wives’ again. Maggie reached out and grabbed your hand, giving it a squeeze as her eyes filled with tears.
“My God. Y/N,” she said when you had finished. “He could have killed you on sight.”
You nodded. “He could have. But I had a feeling he wouldn’t. And he didn’t.” She squeezed your hand again.
Enid was looking at you with round eyes.
You felt your cheeks turning pink and shook your head. “I just did what needed to be done. To get him out.”
Maggie grabbed you suddenly into a tight hug, squeezing a little of the air from your lungs. “Thank you. For bringing him back to us. And you came back to us, too.” She pulled back and gave you a teary smile, which you returned. “I can’t imagine what you went through. But I’m just so grateful you’re both here.”
“Me too.” You got up and Enid stood to grab you in a tight hug too. You smiled at her a little awkwardly. “I think I’m just gonna take a walk around a bit. Get some air,” you said with a small smile.
“Alright. Take it easy, though,” she cautioned. “Doc’s orders.” You nodded and headed back outside.
You ended up in the stables, petting the horses and brushing them down just to pass the time. You were grateful for the distraction. Your mind wandered to Daryl frequently and you sincerely hoped that he was getting some peaceful rest. He needed it. He deserved it.
You noticed Sasha up on the wall, standing watch near the gate and you headed over toward her.
“Hey,” you said, nearing the top of the ladder. You were a little winded. You still felt weak. Daryl’s guesses to Dr. Carson had been correct. You had hardly eaten or slept while you were at The Sanctuary, and it had taken more of a toll on you than you realized.
Sasha turned and helped you climb to your feet. “What the hell are you doin’ up here? You’re supposed to be taking it easy!” she said.
“Yeah, I know,” you sighed. “I’m trying.” You looked out over the wall, leaning on the top of the logs. A few walkers were staggering in the field in the distance and Sasha raised her eye to the scope of her rifle to watch them. You glanced over at her. “How are you doing? After everything? And Maggie? Really?”
Sasha gulped and lowered the gun with a heavy sigh. She shrugged and you saw pain in her eyes when she glanced at you. “I’m alive,” she muttered, before turning her eyes back to the field in front of you. “Maggie is too.”
“Yeah,” you said quietly, catching her meaning exactly. “We just—have to keep going.”
She looked over at you. “Daryl told us what you did. I can’t imagine—”
You sniffled and averted your eyes with a shrug. “I just had to get him out of there,” you said.
She nodded and turned again to stare back out over the fields.
“Have you been getting any trouble from Gregory?” you asked. Sasha scoffed and rolled her eyes.
“That man is a useless weasel. But he’s stayed away from me. Maggie’s been dealing with him.”
You picked at a soft spot on top of the log in front of you with your index finger. “He struck me as a nutless slimeball,” you muttered. It actually elicited a laugh from Sasha and you joined her in a low chuckle, shaking your head.
“That’s accurate,” she said appreciatively.
“Hey!” A familiar, gruff voice down below. Daryl. “What the hell are ya doin’?” he yelled up at you.
“Uh oh. Busted,” you said in an undertone to Sasha. She laughed again. You went to the edge of the lookout stand and peered down at him. “You’re supposed to be sleeping,” you said.
He shrugged vaguely and continued looking up at you. You turned back to Sasha. “See you later,” you said. You climbed down the ladder and were met at the bottom by the archer’s intense stare.
“What the hell are ya doin’ up there?”
You shrugged. “Just talking to Sasha,” you said.
Daryl scowled at you and shook his head. “Ya shouldn’t be up there. What if some of them are out there watchin’? What if they see ya?”
“They aren’t out there,” you said.
“Ya don’t know that!” he said angrily.
You sighed and put your hands on your hips, staring down at your boots. “Okay. Alright. I get it. I won’t go up there again.”
“Good,” he spat back at you.
You raised your eyebrows at him. “Did you get any sleep?” you asked. He started pacing back toward the trailer and you fell in behind him. He only grunted over his shoulder which you interpreted as an answer similar to ‘not much’. “How come?”
“I just couldn’t, alright?” he said, irritation evident in his voice.
“Daryl,” you said, reaching out and grabbing his arm gently. “What’s wrong? Why do you sound… pissed?”
He stormed into the trailer and rounded on you suddenly. There was clearly something going on in his blue eyes, turmoil. He paced in front of the couch for a moment as you stared at him, trying to decode his sudden agitation. “How could ya—how could ya do what ya did?!” he demanded angrily. “How could ya go back to him? Ya let him—how could ya let him—put his hands on ya? Ya let him—how—” his voice broke and the anger that was there a moment before was gone, replaced by anguish.
You felt a sinking feeling in the middle of your chest, right between your lungs, as you suddenly understood that his anger wasn’t really anger.
He froze and chewed his bottom lip anxiously. There was a long pause where you could feel a bubble of tension growing between the two of you. He couldn’t meet your eyes. “M’sorry. ‘M so sorry,” he said gruffly. “You were right about going after them, after Denise. I should have listened to ya,” he said. “But I was so damn angry... And now… S’my fault you had to go back to him. S’my fault he—he had you to—” His jaw clenched and he looked away, forcing in a breath. “It’s my fault Glenn’s dead. There’s a whole goddamn pile of things that are my fault.”
“Hey—” You shook your head. “No. No, you don’t get to do that. Even if you hadn’t gone out there, Dwight might have come back and found us and Alexandria anyway. And Glenn—you weren’t holding the bat, Daryl.”
“Ya weren’t there,” he growled. “It was my fault. It was.”
“No.” Your voice was forceful. “It wasn’t. I might not have been at the line up with our people but I’ve been at one before and there is no way to know how many people would have died anyway. Negan’s like that. His men are like that. Could have been more or less regardless of whatever you did that you think got Glenn killed.”
Daryl turned away. He stood stock-still in the center of the room, his shoulders tense. “You can be pissed at me or at the universe or whatever you want,” you said. “I really don’t care at this point because I’m just so damn happy you’re not in there anymore. It doesn’t matter what it took. I was gonna get you out. Nobody deserves to be treated that way, especially you.” You sighed heavily and stared at his back and broad shoulders. “You have to know that. It was my choice to go back.”
Just then, at possibly the worst time, there was a knock on the door and you turned to answer it with a heavy sigh. The so-called “leader” of Hilltop, Gregory, was standing there on the doorstep. “Well, hello,” he said, nodding his head. You stepped back and peered at him with dislike. Daryl spun around to glare him down. “Aren’t—can I come in?” he asked.
You stepped back begrudgingly so he could take another step inside. He cleared his throat a bit awkwardly and then put his hands on his hips, looking around the inside of the trailer. You noticed that Daryl picked up a crossbow he must have gotten from the armory and started fiddling with one of the bolts, purposely fixing his icy blue eyes on Gregory. “Well, now, Margaret—”
“Maggie,” you corrected him.
“Right. Maggie,” he started again, seeming to quail a little under the tone of your voice, “has said that you two escaped from The Saviors compound. Is that true?”
“Why do ya care?” Daryl snapped, leaning back against the dining table.
“Well, I care because this is my place and I am hoping to continue to have a peaceful working relationship with The Saviors and—and—and I,” he stammered, “don’t think that is possible if I am harboring fugitives amongst my people. Not safe for—for my community, you see.”
Daryl stood up, his chin inclined. “And?”
“And,” he said, raising a finger, “and I came to tell you that—you’re welcome to stay the night but I want you gone tomorrow. I have to do what’s right for my people.”
Daryl stepped forward his chest puffed up. “Who’s gonna throw us out? You?” he growled. “Ain’t no peace with The Saviors. You’ll figure that out eventually. Or did ya forget ya made a deal with us to get rid of ‘em?”
Gregory leaned back away from Daryl, who was getting right up in his face. “We haven’t had any trouble until—until you people showed up,” he said.
“Really?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest. “Remember Craig? Your man that they took? Who got him back? We did. You would have just let him die.” You scoffed.
Gregory glared at you and gestured vaguely with a hand. “Aren’t you his—his wife? Don’t you have some loyalty to—”
“Ya better fuckin’ watch what you’re about to say,” Daryl growled, poking a finger into Gregory’s chest and posturing at him. Gregory stepped back. “Ya don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about,” he growled.
“It’s alright, Daryl. He’s obviously an idiot,” you said.
Gregory looked affronted. “What? I don’t have to stand for this! I’m the leader here! This is my place,” he said, puffing his chest out now. “If you both aren’t gone tomorrow, I’ll—I’ll tell Simon about all of you when they come for their next pick-up!”
Daryl hauled a fist back and punched Gregory hard across the face. His head snapped back and to the side and he let out a moan and groan dramatically. “Kal!” he yelled, for one of the guards. “Kal!”
Maggie and Enid appeared in the doorway as you were holding Daryl back from hitting Gregory again, your hands on his chest as he yelled at him over you. “Ya threatenin’ us, ya son of a bitch!? Ya don’t know who the hell you’re messin’ with!”
“Daryl! Hey! Daryl! Stop!” It was taking all your strength to hold him back. You could feel every muscle in his strong chest tensed beneath your hands.
“What’s goin’ on?” Maggie asked, her eyes wide.
“This prick threatened us!” Daryl roared. “Threatened to tell The Saviors about all of us here unless Y/N and I leave tomorrow,” he spat.
“Daryl!” you yelled again. You finally clasped his face in your hands and made him look at you. “Enough.” He softened immediately, his chest heaving. He stopped trying to push through you and instead paced a short distance away after your hands slipped from him.
“You threatenin’ us now?” Maggie asked him. Gregory was a pitiful sight, clutching a hand to his face where Daryl had punched him. “Do I have to remind you who exactly is trying to solve your problem with The Saviors?” Maggie drew herself up to her full height again. “We aren’t goin’ anywhere. And you’re not tellin’ The Saviors a damn thing. Ya know why? Because you need us. Things are gonna go bad for you soon enough. And when the time comes, you’re gonna need us to save your ass. You’re gonna need us to save your community because we actually know how to fight.”
“Get the fuck outta here,” Daryl snapped at him.
Gregory gave everyone a parting glare and laid it on thick, actually limping down the stairs and moaning about going to see Dr. Carson. You rolled your eyes and exchanged a look with Maggie.
“Ya alright?” she asked you. You nodded.
“Fine.”
“Alright. We’ll talk tomorrow. Goodnight,” she said. You slammed the trailer door shut and turned to look at Daryl, who was still fuming.
“Ya shoulda let me hit him again,” he growled, grabbing his crossbow again.
“I think the one you got was good enough,” you said. You gulped at the lump in your throat. “Thanks for that. For standing up for me when he—”
“S’nothin’. That asshole dunno what the hell he’s talkin’ about.”
You nodded. “I’m tired,” you mused aloud.
Daryl nodded. “Ya. Ya need more rest. I’ll take the couch,” he said, setting his crossbow down and heading toward it.
“Seriously?”
His confused eyes snapped back at you. “What?”
You sighed. “Daryl, you’re not sleeping on the couch. Come over here,” you said, tilting your head. You walked over to the bed and pulled the covers back on one side, slipping underneath them. “I’ll take this side. You take the other.” You climbed into bed.
Daryl watched as you settled into the pillow, exhaustion settling over you. You could feel his eyes on you and you propped yourself up on your elbow. You anxiously chewed your bottom lip, wondering how much of what you were thinking that you should actually say.
“It’ll help me sleep… if you’re right here,” you said softly.
Daryl’s heart raced in his chest. How could he deny you that? And in truth, that was all he wanted, to be right there with you, knowing you were safe, asleep, beside him, out of the reach of Negan and his wandering hands. His mind wandered to what it would be like to have you fall asleep in his arms. He nudged his chin up a couple times. “Alright.”
“Thanks,” you murmured. You sighed and settled back into the pillow. You kept your eyes closed, but didn’t sleep yet, listening to Daryl softly moving about the room for a little while longer. Eventually you heard the soft rustling of fabric beside you and felt his weight on the other side of the bed.
He propped up the pillow and sat back against it on the headboard, his legs stretched out on top of the blankets, crossed at the ankles.
You smiled to yourself and finally allowed yourself to drift off.
450 notes · View notes
yikestripes · 4 years ago
Text
High Heels, Red Dress
i think this is actually the longest fic i’ve written to date, goddamn. as always, i really really ran with this one. **LOOSELY BASED OFF OF SEASON 4 EPISODE 9 “52 Pickup”.
word count: 3.8k
warnings: none, some angst and some fluff.
“So you think he’s taking classes on how to talk to women?” Prentiss asked, incredulous. You tried to surprise your giggles, causing the others to look at you.
“Maybe Reid should try that,” Spencer’s face reddened as he busied himself with the file, pretending to read through it. You could tell he was faking because it never took him that long to study a file.
“I’m kidding, Spence.” You said a short time later, suddenly feeling guilty. Spencer looked up at you and nodded, tight lipped. He returned to the book he was reading. You shook your head and headed to the back of the jet to make yourself a coffee and take a break for a little while. Your peace, however, was short lived. Morgan strolled back and started making himself a cup of coffee while you waited for yours to finish brewing. He looked at you, eyebrows raised.
“What’s on your mind, Sweet Thing?” He asked.
“I feel really bad about what I said to Spencer.” You said quietly, taking a long sip of your coffee. Derek chuckled.
“I know why you said it, can’t say I blame you entirely.” You narrowed your eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh nothing, nothing at all.”
“Morgan.” Your tone raised slightly.
“Alright fine, you can put the angry eyes away. All I meant was that I can see the way you look at him, and you’re frustrated that he hasn’t made any sort of moves.” He said, leaning against the counter and raising his eyebrows again. “Am I wrong?”
Your answer was you walking away. He was completely on track, but you couldn’t bear to say the words out loud just yet. There wasn’t much hope on your end in terms of Spencer feeling the same way about you that you do him, so what was the point of hoping? It just lead to high expectations and low outcomes. You forced yourself to concentrate on the case file for the rest of the ride, briefly glancing at Spencer here and there; you made eye contact 3 times.
Although the jet ride was painfully quiet, the arrival on the scene was nowhere near as heavy. Well, in a sense. You were staring a dead woman in the face who looked just a little bit too much like you for your taste, and you could tell Prentiss was having similar thoughts.
“I guess we have to go pay this “Viper” guy a visit.” Spencer said behind you, quietly. You turned and looked at him, eyebrows raised. It was the first thing he’d said to you since the jet.
“Okay, I'll grab the keys from Hotch.” You turned on your heel and headed in Hotch’s direction as Morgan approached Reid.
“I see the way you look at her, you know.” Morgan said from behind him, frightening Reid slightly. He tucked a piece of hair behind his ear, and made a confused face.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said quietly, walking to the car you hopped in.
“Those two are made for each other, goddamn.” Morgan said to no one in particular. Meanwhile, your ride to Viper’s class was a little too quiet for your liking. You broke the silence and turned the radio down slightly.
“I’m sorry, Spencer.” He looked at you suddenly, as if lost in his own thoughts.
“For what?” He frowned.
“For what I said on the jet, that was unfair and I’m sorry.” Spencer was quiet for a minute, contemplating.
“I really am, Spence.”
“No no I know, I accept your apology. I was just thinking, what if that was the reason the unsub had taken the class in the first place?” You paused, waiting for him to continue. He had something.
“Meaning that if a woman in his life, whether it was a girlfriend, wife, or maybe a female in a club, made him feel small and that he was unable to pick up women. Maybe he’s impotent and he’s out to prove a point.” You grinned and touched Spencer’s arm lightly, retracting when you remembered his disdain for being touched. His facial expression faltered, but was replaced quickly when he called Hotch.
“You are such a genius, Boy Wonder.” He smiled and looked at his hands in his lap, feeling warmth spread through his body.
The drive through downtown Atlanta was an easy one, you having spent the majority of your early to late teens and 20s driving all through downtown D.C. You arrived at the community center rather quickly, and found Viper in a seminar room on the first floor.
“This is the jungle, my friends, and you are the predators.” He said to his class, earning a round of applause.
As you and Spencer approached, he looked you up and down hungrily, licking his lips.
“Well hello there, gorgeous. Fortunately for you my class just let out, and I happen to have an hour until my ne-”
“My name is Doctor Spencer Reid and I’m with the FBI Behavioural Analysis Unit, and this is Agent (Y/L/N).” Viper tore his prying eyes away from you for a moment to look Spencer up and down, clearly unimpressed.
“Sure, sure. What can I do for you, Agents?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“This is regarding your, uh, class. Have you seen any sort of suspicious people or any of your students acting out of the ordinary?” Reid said, sticking his hands in his pockets.
“All my students are out of the ordinary, otherwise they wouldn’t need me to guide them.” He returned his attention to you, with a smirk.
“I, however, am the master. Picking up women is my profession and my dedication.” You rolled your eyes.
“We need to see a list of your students.” You said, monotone.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Sweetheart.”
“We will come back with a warrant.” You glared. Men like Viper made you sick.
“Alright, fine, Miss. Agent. You’ll get the roster. You can have anything else you want, you just have to ask nicely.” Viper leaned in closer and Spencer moved forward, almost shielding you.
“Oh, Dr. Reid, moving to protect the lady, hmm? How often do you have to rely on that title of yours to help you bring women home?” He almost laughed.
“Frankly, “Viper”, the way you talk to women is completely demeaning and utterly disgusting. We will come back with a warrant and will be investigating your supposed alibis, because right now you are a prime suspect in a murder investigation.” Spencer got in Viper’s face, his face as cold as stone. You’d never seen him get his back up in this way, usually it was Morgan.
“I have receipts to back up my whereabouts last night, for your information.”
“If you have any questions, call the Atlanta police department.” You said quietly, handing him a card with the number written out on the back. He looked you up and down one more time and replaced the ridiculous furry hat back on his head.
You followed Spencer out the door and back to the car, almost unable to keep up with his pace.
“Spence, what’s up?” He looked out the window, not saying anything. You could sense his anger.
“What’s wrong?” You pressed.
“I don’t like the way Viper was looking at you or talking to you.” He spat. “He was looking at you the way a predator looks at literal prey; you are so much more than that.”
Your face softened, and you rested a hand on his shoulder.
“I appreciate you standing up for me, that was very sweet.” You whispered, giving him a small smile. His heart fluttered, and he mustered up a small smile in return.
“Anytime, (Y/N/N).” He looked back out the window and subconsciously unclenched his fists at your sides, making you smile a little more.
Your ride back to the police station was very quiet, Spencer was still angry at Viper’s disgusting nature, and was completely against Morgan and Hotch’s idea to send you into a club as bait.
“This is ridiculous!” He said, crossing his arms.
“Spence, it’s fine. If it’s what I have to do, then it’s what I have to do.” You said, beginning to get frustrated. You appreciated more than anything how much Spencer cared, it made your heart do backflips, but you could take care of yourself. You’d been an FBI agent for 4 and a half years, and trained with Morgan regularly. Worst case scenario, you could handle yourself.
“It’s not fine, (Y/N). You were already subjected to Viper once today, now you have to go act as the prey for the unsub? What if he kidnaps you?”
“Reid, we’re going to be stationed at the bar and on the floor handing out fliers. Nothing is going to happen.” Spencer walked out of the room, Prentiss following close behind.
You crossed your arms and huffed. Hotch looked at you, and then looked away. You knew what you had to do, and you were determined to save some lives tonight, whether Spencer liked it or not.
“Are you ladies almost ready?” Hotch said on the other side of the door.
“Yeah, Hotch, we’ll be out in 5 minutes.” Emily called back. You could hear Hotch’s retreating footsteps, and resumed your conversation.
“Did he really say that?” Emily asked, securing an earring.
“Yep. Verbatim.”
“Wow, I can’t believe Reid had the guts to stand up to Viper like that, or that Viper even had the audacity to say something like that!”
“When you’re a misogynistic narcissist, anything is possible.”
Emily laughed in response as you looked at yourself in the full body mirror, smiling a little bit. As much as you hated to admit it, you did look good. You were in a tight red dress with a plunging neckline, gold jewelry, and red heels. You adorned a smokey eye look and teased your hair, completing the outfit. If nothing else, you were definitely ready for the club. Prentiss’s outfit was similar, except black with silver accessories. You opened the door to find your knights awaiting, and a few dropped jaws.
“Phew, you ladies clean up nice. You sure you’re alright with this?” Morgan said, directing the question at you.
“Yeah. Where’s Reid?” You asked, Spencer nowhere in sight. Morgan frowned and stuck his hands in his pockets.
“He’s waiting in the car.” Hotch said, looking at Morgan. Morgan shrugged his shoulders as you followed them to the car you were set to take, separately from the rest of the team so it looked like you were going in on your own.
“Spencer’s jaw would drop harder than Morgan’s if he saw you back there,” Emily said, a knowing look crossing her features. You snorted a little.
“Yeah right, he wouldn’t notice anything was different.” Months ago on a ladies night with Emily, JJ, and Penelope, you’d confessed your crush on Spencer to them after a few glasses of wine too many. Since then, they’d done everything they could to try and make sure you two would get together, but to no avail. Either Spencer was pretty good at hiding his true feelings, or he just did not feel the same way.
You were hoping for option 1.
You arrived at the club a lot sooner than you would’ve liked, and entered beside Prentiss.
“Just pretend like it’s another ladies night.” She said. You nodded and headed straight for the bar while she went to find a hightop to stand at.
“Two margaritas, please.” You told the bartender, who flashed a white smile. You smiled back softly and looked at the sea of people crowding the dance floor, looking for any sort of activity that caught your eye. On the other side of the bar, something did catch your eye. Spencer. He was staring at you, and when he noticed you looking back, he reverted his attention to Morgan. You frowned, and thanked the bartender.
“Spence was staring at me.” You said as you placed your drinks on the table. Prentiss raised her eyebrows and nodded at Morgan, who nodded back. He and Spencer moved slightly away from the bar to pass out fliers and ask if anyone had seen the man from the sketch.
You mindlessly sipped your marg when a familiar scent hit your nose, and rose your eyes to meet Viper’s.
“Oh no.” You said, giving Prentiss a look.
“Hello again, fancy meeting you here. Decide to take me up on my offer to see me on my turf?” He asked.
“No.” You said.
“Well, maybe I can pique your friend’s interest here. How are you, Sweetheart?” Prentiss glared.
“Here to prey on some younger women?” She asked, cocking an eyebrow. Viper frowned, but recovered quickly.
“If that means you, then yes ma’am. To what do I owe the pleasure?” He asked, trying to take her hand. She snapped her hand back to her body, and looked annoyed.
“If you aren’t here to help us, walk away.” She said, clenching her teeth. Viper shrugged and headed back in the direction of the bar, probably to find some other poor soul.
“He is not real.”
“I wish that were true.” You both took a long drag from your drinks, and found your eyes wandering towards the tall, curly haired genius. It was hard to find him at first, until you picked him out as the most uncomfortable man in the room. Morgan was beside him, also without any fliers, pointing to various women in the room. Spencer was nodding, as if taking mental notes about whatever Morgan was saying.
“Women like it when you can make them laugh. I know your sense of humor is a bit questionable, but if you can get her laughing, you’re definitely on your way there.” Spencer nodded, finding his gaze locked on you. You looked absolutely stunning in your red dress, barely coming above your knees. Your makeup accentuated your gorgeous eyes and your hair framed your face, and Spencer was breathless.
“Hey, stay with me, Pretty Boy. These tips can work on her too, I promise.” He nodded in your direction with a knowing smirk. Spencer’s cheeks flushed and he turned his attention to the bartender, who was talking to a couple of younger girls. He approached her and gave her a shy smile and a wave, pulling a spare flier from his pocket.
“Have you seen this guy walking around tonight?” He asked. The bartender shook her head and moved on to the man next to her, filling a drink order as she spoke.
“He looks familiar, but so do all the men I come across around here. He’s a common character.” She nodded to the paper in Spencer’s hand. She clearly wasn’t interested, too busy to be.
“Alright, then can I ask you something?” He said, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. She placed the drink down in front of the man next to him, turning her attention back to Spencer.
“Shoot.” She looked down the bar and saw that the other bartender had taken a few guests at a time, so she had a free minute.
Now he was across the room, talking to the female bartender. He was performing a magic trick for her, causing your blood to boil. She was giggling and touching his arm, and you could see the blush on his cheeks from across the room.
You grabbed your drink and were ready to march over there, when Prentiss caught your arm.
“I think I know who the unsub is,” You looked at her, thoughts of Spencer long forgotten.
“I was thinking about what you were saying about Viper’s speech today- the thing about squashing the queen bee.” Sparks collided in your brain as your eyes widened, connecting the dots.
“I’ll grab Spencer and Morgan, tell Hotch and let’s get out of here.” You chugged the rest of the margarita and felt it immediately, marching over to Spencer and Morgan much more confidently than you should have.
“We know who the unsub is,” You said, primarily to Morgan.
“Who?” Spencer asked, abandoning the magic trick and the bartender. She walked away without a second glance. Your glare hardened as you turned on your heel, walking out of the bar.
Morgan and Reid looked at each other before following you outside, watching as you jumped in the car with Prentiss and Hotch. Rossi pulled up in a car beside them, and they hopped in too. Spencer and Morgan put their vests on in the car and Spencer allowed his mind to wander. You’d looked so angry back there. Did he say something? He was only angry on your behalf earlier, he didn’t think you would be upset with him for something so trivial. He frowned as you all pulled up outside of the house.
You hopped out after Prentiss, still in your dress, but changed into black high top converse. You looked somehow even better with the dress and the converse, your hair still wild and free. Spencer gulped as he unholstered his gun, following behind Morgan. You were the first to enter the house, clearing almost half of the downstairs by the time Morgan and Reid caught up. You started up the stairs when you’d heard a crash from behind a door.
“He’s in there!” You yelled, jumping down the stairs to kick down the basement door. “FBI you’re under arrest!” You screamed down the stairs, making your way down with Morgan hot on your heels.
“Put your weapon down.” Morgan said, aiming right for his head. The unsub simply laughed.
“Or what, you’ll shoot me, pretty girl? I don’t think so.” The unsub inched closer, and you trained your gun on his head.
“One more step and you die. I don’t really think you want that, though.” You remained firm, and the unsub lost his nerve. The knife clattered as it hit the ground, the victim crying as she wriggled in her restraints behind him.
Morgan cuffed him and forced him upstairs, and as Reid approached you, you followed behind them. Reid frowned once more and followed Prentiss and Rossi back upstairs. Luckily, the unsub had slipped up and led the trail right to his home and the latest victim, who you were able to save. No harm had come to her when you had gotten there, although the disemboweling seemed like it was about to begin. It was safe to say she was scarred psychologically.
You stood a bit apart, arms crossed over your chest. You didn’t even hear Spencer approach.
“I don’t think I got the chance to tell you this, neither at the club or at the police station. You look beautiful,” Spencer’s brown eyes glistened, boring into yours.
“Thanks.” You said.
“I can tell by your tone and body language that you’re upset with me, but I still haven’t quite worked out why.” He pressed, standing in front of you, hands in his pockets.
“You don’t think I can handle myself.” You said, raising your eyes to meet his. He scrunched his face in confusion.
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to; it was the way you were so angry at the police station earlier today. It didn’t seem like you thought I could do it or handle it.” You glared. Your expression softened when Spencer frowned.
“I didn’t mean to make you think that, I was just worried about you. I don’t know what I would do with myself if anything happened to you,” Spence said quietly, taking your hand in his. All your anger dissipated the moment he took your hand.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
You were quiet for a minute, contemplating bringing up what you saw between Spencer and the bartender. You decided against it, and opted to give him a hug.
“I appreciate how much you care, Spence.” You said into his shoulder. He gratefully returned the hug, elated that you were no longer angry with him. You both pulled away and rejoined your team, heading for the jet. You both slept the entire plane ride, since you were able to change into a pair of leggings and a hoodie. Spencer’s hoodie.
Spencer walked you to your car as he did after most cases, just so he could be secure in knowing you were safe for another night. You had been debating the entire walk whether or not it was a good idea to bring up the bartender, and you eventually decided to ask. You had to know whether or not to move on.
“Spence,” You broke the silence as you approached your car. He turned his attention to you, his eyes tired. “Whatever happened with the bartender from the club?” You asked, absentmindedly picking at your nails. He picked up on it right away, and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
“What do you mean?” He took your hand to stop your nail picking. You frowned. He rubbed his thumb across your knuckles to prompt you to continue.
“You were flirting with her and I wasn’t sure how it went.” You hadn’t thought past asking the question, therefore you didn’t have a very good reason why you were asking. Spencer looked unconvinced, but decided to bite anyway.
“Nothing happened, I didn’t get her number or anything. She wasn’t really my type.” He said, nodding. You nodded in return and smiled. He smiled, but furrowed his eyebrows further. “Why?” He smirked a little.
“I was just curious.”
“Uh huh. What’s the actual reason?”
“I WAS curious!”
“With ulterior motives, I'm sure.”
You shifted your weight between your feet, suddenly uncomfortable under his gaze. He raised his eyebrows and closed the already shrinking gap between you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. He pulled away and raised his eyebrows as if to ask, “Is that why?”. You reached up and pulled his face back down to yours in another soft, warm kiss.
“Yeah. I was a little bit jealous.” You said, slightly breathless. Spencer smiled softly, and intertwined your fingers.
“Why were you jealous?” You sighed, and smiled up at him.
“Because I like you, dummy.” His eyebrows shot up as if you told him the secret to curing cancer, and slowly processed a response.
“I-I like you too.” You pressed a final kiss to his warm lips and grinned into it, letting your forehead come to rest against yours.
“I should have known the way you were drooling over me in that dress.” You whispered. He looked away and swallowed, running a hand through his hair.
“Goodnight, Spence.” You rolled your eyes as you threw your go bag in your back seat. He was grinning like a doofus as he made his way to his car, receiving a text from you as soon as he got in.
“You’re such a little dork, Reid. You’re lucky you’re adorable.” The warm feeling washed over Spencer once again as he held his phone to his chest, smiling like an idiot his entire drive home.
1K notes · View notes
yikesharringrove · 4 years ago
Note
after star court Steves head trauma was severe enough where he got diagnosed with epilepsy and has minor seizures n gets confused easily, his parents dont care or bother to come home and help him so its mostly robin
I want to send all my love and thanks to @elysiumwaits and @a-bit-of-trash for all their help with this piece! 💕💕💕
Read on Ao3
-
The first time Robin noticed it, Steve was helping a customer at Family Video. 
He was in the middle of a sentence, i the middle of a transaction behind the register when his eyes drifted up towards the ceiling and his voice trailed off. His jaw shifted around and he chewed on his tongue.
It was like he was completely vacant.
It lasted a few seconds, and he snapped back in, finishing his sentence and continuing the transaction like nothing happened.
The customer stared questioningly at Robin, and she smiled tightly at her, waving as she threw Steve one last confused look and turned to leave.
“Uh, Steve?” Steve looked over his shoulder to her, humming in question. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”
“You, like, kinda went blank there. Like stopped talking for awhile and just. I don’t know, it was weird.” He furrowed his brows.
“What?”
“Yeah. You just kinda. I don’t even know how to describe it.” She was beginning to get nervous, if Steve just blacked out or something, and had no idea he did it, that can’t be good. “Has that happened before?”
“I have no idea. I mean, I didn’t even know it happened just now.” His voice was doing that thing it does before he gets in over his head. His pitch gets higher and his voice waivers a bit and his eyes go wide, and usually, this display ends with a panic attack.
“Hey, heyheyheyhey, hey. I’m sure it’s okay.” She tried to smile at him. She really isn’t sure it’s okay. But she can’t let him think his blank-out scared her.
-
The next time she saw it, she was sitting across from him on his couch, both their backs against either armrest, her feet in Steve’s lap.
Steve was in the middle of a story about Dustin, something silly he did earlier that day.
When his eyes fluttered. He stopped speaking mid-sentence again, his eyes fluttering oddly, his jaw working once again.
It was only a few seconds when he snapped back, picking up his story right where he left off.
“Steve, it happened again.”
Steve’s face fell.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. You stopped talking and kinda went blank. Just the same as last time.” She kept her voice even, didn’t want to scare him. But he began chewing on his bottom lip, his brows furrowing.
“I didn’t even know. I don’t know they’re happening. Do you think they happen often? And I just have no fucking idea?”
“I really don’t know, Steve.” And maybe her misstep was the lack of a condescending but endearing nickname.
Because Steve looked about a second from bursting into tears.
“Should I, like, go to the doctor? I mean, I’ve had a lot of concussions these past few years. It could be, like, my brain slowly turning to Jell-o.”
“Or maybe it’s nothing!” She said quickly. “If you decide to go to the doctor, I’ll come with you.”
-
It happened three times in the waiting room of the doctor’s office.
Each time like the last, a few seconds of Steve blanking out and his mind going elsewhere.
It was beginning to really fucking scare Robin. He already wasn’t the brightest, and now he has these lapses, these momentary blank outs that were beginning to take more of a toll.
He was having several a day that she knew of, and by the evening, Steve was sapped of all his energy, and so fucking confused, he would lose his train of thought before it even left the station.
“Alright, Mr. Harrington. What brings you in today?” Doctor Owens let himself into the room, taking a seat at the stool next to the examination.  table Steve was perched on.
“Uh, my doctor referred me. I’m having some, like, issues, I guess.” He looked expectantly at Robin. She sighed through her nose.
“He has lapses. He could be in the middle of a sentence, and he’ll stop speaking. Usually his eyes will drift and after a few seconds, he’s back.”
Doctor Owens was nodding at her seriously.
“Alright Steven. Do you black out for these episodes? Lose time?”
“I don’t even notice they’ve happened.”
“And anything else with them? Headaches? Confusion?”
“He gets confused if he’s had several in a day. I was with him one evening when he had five and by the time we fell asleep he wasn’t speaking clearly and couldn’t remember some things.”
Owens too a deep breath.
“I’d like to run some testing. It sounds like you’re experiencing minor seizures.”
Steve gawked at him.
“Seizures? But I mean, I haven’t been, like, it’s just a little, a little, brain glitch.”
“There are many different forms of seizures. And some can result in, confusion, black outs, and momentary lapses. They’re called absence seizures. And it sounds like, the number you’ve been having is indicative of epilepsy, but I’d like to run some more tests before saying one way or another.” He drummed briefly on the examination table, smiling and nodding at Robin before letting himself back out of the room.
Steve was staring at the wall in front of him.
“Seizures. Epilepsy.”
“Hey,” Robin leaned forward in her chair, placing one hand on his forearm. “At least it’s an answer. Diagnoses bring treatment.”
He gave her those big round puppy dog eyes that always made her heart break a little bit.
“Robin, I’m scared.”
It was barely a whisper, and Steve’s hands closed into shaking fists, clenching the fabric of his flimsy gown.
“I know. I know it’s scary. But I’m here, right? And we’ve dealt with a lot scarier than your brain electricity.”
He nodded at her shakily.
Doctor Owens returned then.
“Alright, Steven. We’re going to schedule you in for tomorrow for an EEG, a simple test to measure brain activity. It’ll give us a great view of what is happening in that head ‘a yours. Frankly, it’d be great if you had an event while doing the test. But, we’ll just see what’s going on in there, and figure out how to help you. That sound alright?”
“Uh, yes, Doctor. Thank you.”
-
The phone was ringing loudly by the time Steve pushed open the front door.
He had been quiet as Robin drove him home, and he had another small seizure in the car.
He picked up the phone, and she placed one hand gently on the small of his back as she passed by him into the kitchen.
“Hey, Dad.”
Robin sighed. This was the last thing they needed today. A call from Steve’s asshole father.
“Yeah, I had to use the credit card at the doctor. I’m having some testing done. No, not, Dad just listen. I might have epilepsy.” Steve’s voice cracked when he said epilepsy. He went quiet. Robin chewed on her bottom lip. “Just put Mom on, please.”
Robin was standing just on the other side of the doorway, listening intently. Steve always just assumed she was eavesdropping on his conversations.
“Hi, Mom. Yeah, the doctor said it could be epilepsy. I mean, I have like, a bunch of seizures. Been having them for months now. And I’m just- I mean, can you,” he went silent, no doubt listening to his mother speak.
It was a few minutes of silence before he spoke again.
And dear God, she really thought she was gonna fucking cry.
“Mom, can you please just come home? I have a big test tomorrow and I’m. I’m just scared. And I want my mom.”
And then more silence. And Steve sniffed.
“Yeah, no, uh, it’s okay. No really, Mom. I’m okay. I’ll be-enjoy the rest of your trip.” There was a click as he set the phone down on the receiver.
She waited for him to show around the wall, let him take a moment to himself.
He slunk around the divider, not meeting Robin’s gaze.
“I assume-”
“We don’t have to talk about it,” she cut him off quickly.
“Thanks.”
And they didn’t.
They didn’t talk about the looming appointment the next day, the hours of testing Steve was going to have to sit through.
They didn’t talk about the way his mom didn’t bother to even pretend she would come to support him through his nerves.
They talked about shit that didn’t matter- awful costumers at Family Video, Keith repeatedly asking robin out and never getting the hint she wasn’t into him, they even unpacked the entirety of the Star Wars trilogy, as Steve fell asleep nearly every time they tried to watch it.
Steve hugged her tight before she drove herself home in her mom’s old station wagon. He did that thing he does where he buries his face into her shoulder and takes a real big breath and kinda seems like Robin’s the only thing keeping him together, kissing the top of her head once before she pulled away.
He woke up groggy, a spot of drool on his pillow. The phone was blaring on his nightstand, and he barely rolled over to slam it against his ear.
“‘ello?”
“Steve, oh my God. I’m so so sorry,” Robin babbled into the receiver, barely breathing as she hurled her words at him. “I got called in to cover for Amanda today, and Keith said he’s called everyone, and if I can’t work today, he’s gonna call you, and you can’t miss the test, but I feel like such shit, I promised I’d come with you, and with your mom not coming in, I said I’d drive you, and now I can’t, and Steve, I’m so sorry-” she sounded frantic, almost like she was close to tears.
“Rob, hey, it’s alright.” It wasn’t. Not really, but he understands. And he’s a grown up, after all. He can go to the doctor by himself. “It’s okay. Just come over tonight if you want to.”
“Yes, yes, I’ll be over right after I get off. Maybe Amanda can come relieve me or something. I’m so sorry.”
She sounded sorry. She sounded absolutely miserable.
“Rob, honest, no hard feelings. I can just go. I’ll be okay. See you after.”
“I’ll bring dinner! Or, or snacks, and I can bring a few movies with me afterwards-”
“That sounds great. Look, I gotta go take a shower and get ready. I’ll just, I’ll see you later. After the-the thing.”
“Yes! Yeah, Steve, really I’m so so sorry.”
“I know. Don’t worry. I’ll see you later, Rob. Love you.” He scrubbed a hand down his face, melting further back into his pillows.
“I’ll be there! And I love you a whole lot, okay?”
“Yeah. I know. It’s really okay. I promise.”
He didn’t let her get another word in, slapping the phone back onto the hook.
Really, he had no hard feelings. It’s not worth it to be mad at her for this. He just doesn’t want to sit on the phone with her while she apologizes some more
It just fucking sucks.
He’s fairly certain he had a seizure in the shower. He doesn’t totally know when he has them, but he’s beginning to recognize the time passing, the way he just feels tired after.
He took his sweet time getting ready, dreading the impeding appointment and all the testing, making sure to wear comfortable clothes, hoping they wouldn’t make him swap out his soft crew neck sweatshirt for a flimsy hospital gown while he sat through everything that was about to happen.
And only when he got outside did it really hit him that Robin won’t be going with him.
Owens said to avoid driving until they could find out more about his episodes. Find an epicenter and maybe a trigger. It’s dangerous as all hell to have him blanking out on the road. Which is something Robin suggested in that overly calm voice of hers when the seizures started getting more frequent.
Robin’s been driving him everywhere the past few weeks. And she was going to pick him up for the appointment.
Fuck.
He has no one to call.
Well, he could call someone, but that would take all the energy of explaining all the shit he hasn’t told anyone yet about his issues, and that’s a can of worms he doesn’t feel ready for on a Thursday morning.
Claudia would only ask more questions than he had answers, and he doesn’t think he could stand seeing that sad look Nancy’s always got on her face when she sees him nowadays.
And he doesn’t think things won’t be awkward between him and Jonathan.
Okay.
Looks like he’s gonna drive himself.
He actually buckled himself in, something he almost never did, and took everything as slowly as possible, creeping down his neighborhood at an almost comical pace.
If he has a seizure, and blanks out for a few seconds, he wants to be able to mitigate any damage. Either stop himself from going too far in the first place, or give others enough time to move out of the way from his slow moving death machine.
His grip was so tight on the steering wheel his knuckles were white, hands clammy and no doubt shaking.
“Just breathe, Stevie. You’re doing just fine. Plenty of time to get there.” He hadn’t turned on the radio, wanted to keep a laser focus on the road. “You’re not going to blank out, and you’re not going to hurt anyone.”
He kept up that monologue as he made the slowest left-turn possible onto the road that led into town.
He had the overwhelming urge to bounce his leg, trying to keep himself still and focused.
And the next thing he knows, he’s idling at a stop sign with the Chief of Police knocking on his window.
Fuck.
At least he didn’t hurt anyone, or crash his car horribly.
He cranked down the window, giving Hop as much of a smile as he could muster.
“Kid, what the fuck? I’ve been tapping on that window for a full minute. You were just, sittin’ there.”
Shit. He’s gonna have to come clean.
“I, uh, I’m actually going to an appointment. With Owens.” Hopper just continued staring at him, his face gruff, his brows drawn. “I got some. Brain stuff.”
And then Hopper’s face fell.
“Shit, why didn’t you let any of us know?”
“Because, well, they don’t know what it is yet, but I, uh, I’ve been having, like, seizures,” Steve could feel it, the lump rising in his throat he’s been ignoring since yesterday, the nerves and sadness and confusion all welling up. “And Owens is gonna run some tests because he thinks I have epilepsy now, from being tortured, and I don’t know what’s happening to me, but it’s like I can’t even control my own stupid brain, and I’m so fucking scared, and-”
This is fucking mortifying.
Sitting in his car, crying, in front of Hopper.
Who looked like he had no idea what the fuck to do.
“Okay, uh, just take some deep breaths, okay? Why don’t you, uh, go get in my truck, and I’ll take you to the appointment. I can leave your car parked over there,” he pointed at the side of the road beyond the stop sign. “You don’t seem in much shape to be drivin’.”
“Sorry, I’m not-not supposed to, but I had no one to call-”
“Hey, I hope you now that’s not true.” Hopper reached through the window to place a firm hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I’ll take you, and I’ll drive you on home after.” And he opened up the door, and Steve nearly got tangled in the seat belt as he tried to step out of the car. “Shit, you weren’t kidding.”
And Steve felt like a fucking child as Hop reached over him to unbuckle him, and actually help him out of the car.
He finally noticed the truck parked behind his car, and got himself tucked into the passenger seat as Hopper moved the beamer to the spot he indicated, double checking he locked it before jogging back to the truck.
The ride was silent all the way to the hospital, Steve tying his fingers up in knots and trying not to throw up.
Hopper didn’t just drop him off, he actually walked with Steve into the building, escorted him all the way to the exam room.
He sat in the chair Robin usually occupied, settling his hat on his knee.
Wait, he’s fucking on duty.
“You don’t have to stay. I could, like, call the station when I’m finished here.”
“I’ve got nowhere to be. Not a lotta shit goes down in this town on the off-season.” He smiled grimly at Steve, who just nodded blankly.
And Owens took that time to break the awkward quiet between them, opening the door with Steve’s file tucked under his arm.
“Steven! Good to see you again. Let’s get into that head of yours, shall we?” He shook hands with Hop, turning back to Steve with a grin that was probably meant to be jovial and endearing. “Sorry to see that girlfriend of yours won’t be joining us today. Trouble in paradise?”
“We’re just friends. And she’s working.” His voice felt heavy, like it took effort just to make himself speak.
“Doc, for my own sake, Harrington here hasn’t quite gotten me up to speed with the testing today.”
There was a short rap on the door, and a few nurses entered the room, bringing a rolling metal tray with a few tubes and a long syringe, and a large machine, wires spilling out the side.
Steve barely reacted as they took his blood, pressing his shoulders gently to coax him into a supine position, relaxing against the exam table.
“We’re going to begin with an E.E.G., or, an electroencephalography.”
Something sparked in Hopper’s eyes.
“That’s what Will had, right? To monitor brain activity, or what have you.”
“Exactly. We use them to understand and diagnose seizure disorders. Steven’ll be here for about an hour or so.” He washed his hands quickly at the sink in the corner, turning back to Steve and looking at him pensively. It made Steve feel oddly self-conscious. “It’s completely painless.” He smiled weakly at Steve, maybe misjudging his general discomfort at being looked at for prolonged periods of time as fear.
Which sure, he’s got some real fear surrounding this test, but not the test itself. He’s more dreading the follow-up appointment he’s gonna have to have for his results to be read and explained. If he’s got epilepsy, or not. If this is what the rest of his life is gonna look like, or not. If he can drive or go to college. If it’ll all just get worse.
One of the nurses, the one with a nice round face that had taken his blood a few moments ago, was marking out spots on his head, along his hairline.
And before he knew it, small sticky pads were being stuck to him, one on each spot she had marked out, and more dotting back through his hair, the nurse smoothing it down and parting it awkwardly in many places to get the little pads as close to his scalp as possible.
“Alright. You ready, Steven?” Owens didn’t wait for a response before he began fiddling with the large machine, bringing it to life.
It was kind of like what Steve saw in a video once about seismographs. A little arm scratching out tremors in the Earth on a sliding sheet of paper.
Only this one was detecting tremors in his brain. Tremors and errors and everything that was going wrong in there.
“So, Chief. What brings you in here with Steven today?”
Steve wanted to tell Owens just to call him Steve, but he kinda feels like it’s past the point of when he should’ve corrected him, and now, it’d be kinda weird.
“Drivin’ the kid in. Can’t have him crashing his car. I think the last thing his head needs is another bonk.”
It made Steve smile, nearly made him laugh as the machine scratched away beside him.
“Good to see you’ve taken my advice.”
“Robin drives me almost everywhere. We work the same shifts and she picks me up after school. It works pretty okay.” The whirring of the machine kinda made Steve want to fall asleep.
“Your parents don’t drive you?” Hopper looked a little too interested. Steve tried to play it cool.
“My dad works quite a lot.” Hopper tightened his jaw and Steve kinda felt like a little kid again. “He, uh, travels for work a lot. And my mom likes to go.”
It was like the air in the room totally went cold.
“Kid, do they even know you’re here today?”
“Yes! I called them last night. Pretty much begged my mom to fly in but she-”
And it was the first Owens had seen one of Steve’s seizures for himself.
He cut off mid sentence, his eyes, that had just been wide and clear a second before, went blank, and dim, nearly rolling back in his head. The E.E.G. noted the seizure, tracking brainwaves that were even more abnormal than had been presented already. His jaw worked as though he was trying to speak, and as quickly as it happened, Steve seemed to snap back into himself.
So, maybe emotional duress? Stress? That should definitely be examined as a possible trigger.
Owens scribbled that down on Steve’s chart as Steve shook himself, smiling benignly at Hopper.
“Sorry. Uh, lost my train of thought, there.”
And maybe Hop was able to see that talking about Steve’s family could bring on another, or maybe he just got scared of watching Steve have a seizure and decided to walk on eggshells, but he just smiled back. Brought up a story about Eleven from earlier in the week. How the two of them had played a game of Monopoly that lasted nearly six hours and had both of them close to tears by the end of it.
The test was okay by Steve’s standards. Pretty easy on his end. All he had to do was lay back and let the machine do work. He’s pretty sure he had an episode or two, based on the way Hopper would go all pale and look at Steve like he was sorry for him.
Hopper had to step out near the middle of the test to make a phone call, Steve figured to the station to let them know he was otherwise occupied, or something like that. Or at least, that’s what Steve hoped, and not that Hopper was putting calls in to his father’s work and getting in touch with him via his secretary, or something awful like that.
He’d rather not have the Chief of Police call his parents from the hospital to scold them for not accompanying Steve to his Big Scary Medical Test.
He felt about ready to fall asleep when the machine was finally turned off and nurse returned, removing all the sticky pads as gently as possible from his head.
Owens looked over the paper carefully, folding along the perforations and clipping it against Steve’s chart.
“So, Steven, can we see you a few days from now to go over these results?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Go ahead and schedule that with the front desk,” he finished in the doorway, giving Hop a curt wave and swishing off to something else.
“You ready to be home, kid?”
“Fuckin’ absolutely.”
That made Hop huff something close to a laugh, and he kinda fluttered about while Steve stood up from the examination table, like he wanted to help Steve up, help him manoeuvre around.
Steve went through all the typical stuff at the front desk, handing over his father’s credit card along with their insurance information, scheduling another appointment three days from then.
He was tired, and just felt so fucking awkward that Hopper had been here to witness Steve’s prolonged physical breakdown.
Hopper led him out of the hospital and back to the truck, driving him home with the radio playing quietly. Steve stared out the window, watching raindrops sprinkle onto the car and rush down the window.
They passed Steve’s car a few blocks away from his house, and by the time they pulled up, Steve was almost too tired to notice another car parked in front of his house.
But he couldn’t ignore Joyce’s tight hug when he made it to his porch, and suddenly Hopper’s phone call made sense.
Will was standing behind her like a shadow, holding a baking dish and three clear glass bowls, all stacked up and covered in tin foil.
They brought him dinner.
It kinda made Steve wanna cry.
He fumbled with his keys letting them all inside, tugging awkwardly at the sleeves of his sweatshirt as he led Joyce to the kitchen.
Hop grunted something about walking to get Steve’s car, easing the keys out of his hands and taking off down the road.
“Steve, Honey, why don’t you just take a seat. We’ve got this.” She smiled and pushed him softly towards the kitchen table.
And he really wanted to help her heat everything up. For fuck sake’s she brought him dinner, he wants to do something, but he’s so goddamn tired.
He sat down slowly, tucking his left leg up under him as he watched Joyce and Will in his kitchen.
They set the dishes to heat up slowly in the oven, going through cabinets to find dishes and flatware to set the table.
Steve’s family almost never ate in the kitchen.
When his parents were home, they almost always sat together in the formal dining room, eating in stilted silence before heading their separate ways.
It was kinda nice, hearing the two of them talk softly to one another, letting Steve just kinda zone out a little bit, tracing the wood grain of the table with the pads of his fingers.
Until his front door creaked open in a way that only Robin could make happen, and he was being hugged tightly from behind.
“Steve, I came as soon as I could. I’m so so sorry I couldn’t come. How was the test? Did they tell you anything yet? Keith was being such an ass today, I almost punched him right in the-” She cut herself off when she noticed the Byers standing near the oven, still clinging onto Steve from behind. “Uh, hi. Sorry,” she stammered. She didn’t do well being taken off guard. Steve sometimes thought it was kinda funny.
“Hi, Sweetheart. Let me just set you a place for dinner. Hop’s moving Steve’s car, he’ll be back in a second and this should be hot enough to eat.”
Robin finally relinquished Steve, keeping one hand on his shoulder that Steve covered with his own.
“Oh, uh, that’s okay. I just wanted to check on Steve, I don’t wanna intrude-”
Joyce waved her hand, shaking her head.
“We invited ourselves into his home. As long as Steve says it’s okay, you’re more than welcome. There’s plenty.”
“Steve looked up at Robin, pretending to think it over.
“I don’t know,” he sighed dramatically. “I don’t really like you, so I don’t want you to stay.” He scrunched up his face when she hit his shoulder. “Take a seat, Buck.”
They could hear heavy footsteps in the hall, the door being closed quietly behind Hopper, and the jingle of Steve’s keys being deposited in the glass bowl on the small sidetable next to the door.
Robin stood to help Joyce and Will bring all the dishes over to the table, and fuck, Steve’s hungry. He hasn’t eaten all day since most of it was spent feeling like he could throw up his spleen.
But Joyce had brought a rich lasagna, and the creamiest mashed potatoes Steve has ever tasted, and these fucking string beans that were so good and crisp, Steve must’ve demolished half the container of them. 
Conversation was kept light and nice, and Steve figured Hopper had filled Joyce in on the nitty-gritty of the test and everything to do with what Steve has been not so subtly hiding from everyone but Robin.
It was still nice to let the sleeping dog lie, even if Steve did find himself no doubt post-seizure with his hand sloppily in his mashed potatoes and everyone staring at him.
And after finishing two of the brownies Joyce had brought, Steve was struck with such a huge wall of tired, it was like he could barely even keep his eyes open.
“Well, we should take our leave.” Joyce leaned back in her chair, Will looking just as sleepy as Steve felt.
“Seriously, Mrs. B. Thank you so much for this. So much.” Steve didn’t even have the words in him to explain his gratitude, but sometimes he thinks Joyce has the ability to read his mind, so it works out.
She just squeezed him in another tight hug, Will following with one of his own before Robin walked them to the door.
“You call if you need anything, okay? Even if it’s just some company. El’s been on this real Miami Vice kick, she’ll talk to anyone that’ll listen about that damn show.”
It made Steve nearly laugh, picturing El sitting in front of the television, watching Miami Vice with as much determination as she does everything.
“Thank you, Hop. Today probably would’ve been a lot more shit if you hadn’t’ve seen my car.”
“Anytime, Kid. And quit tryna hide that shit. We’ve all been fucked up by what happened. Doesn’t mean you’re broke or somethin’.”
And Steve really fucking doesn’t wanna cry anymore today.
He blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay, Hopper doing him a solid and studying his own watch.
“Alright, my little twerp’s been at the Wheeler’s all day. I gotta pick her up. Take it easy, alright?”
“Yes, Sir.” Steve gave him a lazily sarcastic salute.
Hopper rolled his eyes, putting his hat back on.
Steve slunk to the couch as Robin locked up behind the chief, flopping down near his feet.
“I brought Raiders of the Lost Ark as an apology gift.”
“I’m gonna make you watch it a million times.”
Robin slapped his leg, a gesture that was immediately undercut by her draping a soft blanket delicately over him.
“Marion Ravenwood is hot enough I stay invested.”
She sat back down after putting in the tape.
“So, how was it today?” Her voice was way too casual.
“It was okay. Test was fine enough, and hanging out with everyone was good.”
“Are you, like, gonna maybe reach out to them more? Because, you know, they know now.”
Steve chewed on the inside of his cheek, tugging at a loose thread in the blanket.
“Probably. Not that you don’t do a lot for me, but, uh, it was kinda nice to have grown ups around.”
“You know I’d do anything for you, but I think it was kinda nice too. Especially-” She cut herself off, letting the especially since your mom couldn’t be bothered to show up hang in the air between them.
The opening trailers had begun on the rented tape, and Steve closed his eyes, snuggling deeper into the couch.
“Thanks, Rob. Love you.”
“Yeah, Dingus. Love you too.”
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drspencerweed · 4 years ago
Text
Safer to Kiss
Summary: [Y/N] is new to the BAU, and Spencer’s avoidance of handshakes backfires a bit.
WC: 2073
Content: fluffiest fluff, mentions of kidnapping/violence (typical bau stuff)
A/N: I haven’t written fluff for Spencer yet, so I hope y’all like this! 
Masterlist
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I wasn’t nervous about my first day at the BAU. Sure, it would make sense if I was, but I had been working my entire career to get on this team. It was where I belonged, and I knew it. My interview process with Hotch had been a breeze, and I was ready to start the next step of the process: working my first case with the team. It was just preliminary, I was still in my probationary period, but I knew it was going to go well. I was over prepared for this job. 
So I wasn’t nervous. I was ready. I met Hotch in his office that morning, ready to do paperwork until a case came in. But he greeted me with a nod and held up a case file. 
“Round table, now.” He said, and I followed him out into the bullpen. The rest of the team was already in the room, waiting for us. 
“Hello everyone. Meet a potential new member of our team, Agent [Y/N] [Y/L/N]. She’ll be joining us on this case in a probationary manner.” Hotch introduced, and I was greeted with six smiling faces. Immediately I was drawn to the most attractive man in the room. He was sitting down, but I could tell he was tall, lanky. His hair swept over his forehead perfectly. I didn’t let my attention linger there for long however, as I didn’t want to make my attraction obvious. Luckily, one of the other agents jumped in and turned me away. 
“Derek Morgan.” The muscular man to my right said, holding out a hand. I shook it with a smile. 
“David Rossi.” The next man said, again holding out a hand. Around the table they went, introducing themselves. Agent Jennifer Jareau, JJ. Agent Emily Prentiss. Penelope Garcia. Then finally - the man who had so quickly caught my eye. 
“Spencer Reid.” He said with a nod. 
“Doctor Spencer Reid.” Morgan corrected with a nudge. Reid rolled his eyes, and a flush reached his cheeks. It was cute. And he was a doctor? I might have found my dream man. 
“Nice to meet you,” I greeted, holding out a hand to shake. His flush grew deeper, and he cleared his throat. 
“The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss.” He informed me, nodding and smiling. I retracted my hand with a smirk. 
“If you wanted to kiss me, you could just say so.” It was out of my mouth before I could help it, the snarky retort something that I would say to any one of my friends. But I probably shouldn’t say it to someone who is technically a superior. I shut my mouth quickly and cleared my throat. Morgan let out a loud laugh, and Garcia chuckled. Reid looked shocked, his face turning a bright red and his eyes going wide. He started stuttering. 
“I-I wasn’t, that’s not-” 
“Pretty boy, stop while you’re ahead.” Morgan teased. Hotch looked at all of us disapprovingly, while Prentiss, Garcia, and JJ all smirked at Reid. 
“Sorry,” Reid coughed into his hand, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He said, looking me right in the eye. I smiled at him. 
“You didn’t.” I sat down in the only seat available, between Reid and Morgan. “Pretty boy?” I asked Morgan. Reid tried to jump in to defend himself but Morgan held up a hand to stop him. 
“I mean, am I wrong?” Morgan teased. I looked back at Reid and gave him a deliberate once-over while he blushed. It seemed he hadn’t stopped blushing since I walked in the door. Before I could answer, Hotch cleared his throat. 
“Garcia, let’s get started.” 
Reid avoided making eye contact with me throughout the whole briefing. The only time he so much as looked at me was when I brought up the fact that the unsub’s overkill could be related to abuse in his own past. He only looked at me to bring up a statistic about how most serial killers who use overkill actually know their victims. I realized I may have taken the joke too far. 
I was determined to make him more comfortable around me, as I worried that my statement from earlier had intimidated him. Even if nothing happened between the two of us, I needed him to like me. I wanted the whole team to accept me. 
~~~~
The case went swimmingly. We caught the bad guy and saved the man he had kidnapped just in the nick of time. For the entire week we had been working on the case, Reid and I had spent very little, if any, time alone. It was like he was actively avoiding me. Morgan called him ‘Pretty boy’ very often, and I learned it was just something they did. And I completely agreed with him, Reid was a very, very, pretty boy. I had to work hard to keep my eyes off of him when we were working in groups. He was just so attractive, and every rambling statistic spew made me more and more attracted to him. 
I was developing a devastating crush, and fast. 
We were boarding the plane to go home, and I purposefully sat across from Reid. Everyone else petered off to take naps, and quickly fell asleep, but not Reid. He took out a hefty novel and began reading at his exponential pace. I watched him for a few moments before taking out my laptop and browsing the internet. After I was sure everyone else on the flight was deep asleep, I shut my laptop and sighed. 
Reid looked up at the sound, and met my eyes. He made a questioning face. “Is something wrong?” He asked, lowering his book. 
“No, I just wanted to apologize.” 
“For what?” He seemed shocked, and closed his book and put it to the side. 
“For what I said at the round table. I know it made you uncomfortable, and you’ve been avoiding me this week because of it. I didn’t mean to come on so strong.” I said. His eyebrows raised, and a flush started climbing up his throat. I quickly realized the implications of what I said, and began back-tracking. “Not that I was trying to come on to you, in any way, but uhm. I especially didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 
Reid nodded and took a moment to take in what I said. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable.” I could tell it was a true statement. He still wouldn’t meet my eyes, his hands twisted into each other on the table, and he seemed endlessly intrigued by their movement. But even with his body language betraying him I could hear the sincerity in his voice. 
“But you have been avoiding me?” I smirked slightly as I said it. I noticed his absence of a denial to that specific accusation. He bit down around a smile at my call out. He looked up to meet me in the eye for the first time since we met. The hazel was striking. I smirked at him. 
“I guess you could say that.” He said, letting his lips turn up. “But not for the reasons you think.” 
“For what reasons then?” I asked, intrigued. I couldn’t think of any other reason he would be avoiding me. His flush travelled up his neck to his cheeks. He coughed slightly and glanced up at me. He still wouldn’t meet my eyes, his eyes falling on my lips and then going back to his hands. 
“You-” He started but cut himself off, bunching his lips together nervously. I chuckled a little and gave him an inquisitive glance. 
“Go on, I’m curious.” I prompted. He smiled and shook his head almost imperceptibly, but I caught it. He mumbled something under his breath, speaking so fast and so low that I couldn’t make it out. I quirked my head to the side, leaning forward in my seat. “What was that?” 
“I said, uhm. You make me nervous.” He confessed, meeting my eyes quickly and then looking away again. I sat back in shock. Me? Make this man nervous? He was a literal genius, surely he knew how attractive he was. Not that I thought he was out of my league, by any means, but I expected him to be fairly confident in himself. For christ’s sake, his best friend called him ‘Pretty Boy’ more than he used his name. And yet, there was proof in front of me that the confidence I assumed he had was non existent. 
“Am I that loud?” I asked with a laugh, trying to deflect what I thought he meant by ‘nervous’. He was attracted to me, wasn’t he? I hadn’t yet decided what I wanted to do with that information. It would make sense to ask him out, but I kind of liked the idea of teasing him without his knowledge. He seemed easy to fluster, and I loved flustering people. 
He burst out laughing at that, shaking his head in disbelief. “No, no. It has nothing to do with loudness. You’re just, uhm. I’m not used to people like you.” 
“People like me?” 
He coughed into his hand and licked his lips. “Pretty. Confident. Forward.” He listed the adjectives quickly, counting them on his fingers. I smirked at his admission. 
“So you think I’m pretty?” I smirked. He stuttered, trying to backtrack, but he knew he had been caught out.
“I-I just, yes, of course! But not like.... you’re objectively attractive! And subjectively, of course, but it’s not to say that I- that you-” He stammered out. I kept smirking at him as he dug himself a bigger hole. Finally I took mercy on him, reaching across the table and placing a hand over his. 
“It’s fine, Reid. I think you’re objectively and subjectively attractive, too.” I said with a smile. His eyes shot up to meet mine, his hand flexing underneath my grip. 
“Y-You do?” My heart melted for the sweet boy in front of me. How could he not know how attractive he was? He started on another rant. “I know that, scientifically, I have good bone structure, but I’m quite awkward which usually discredits whatever symmetry my face has.” I reached out and grabbed one of his hands in mine. It barely spooked him and he kept rambling. “More symmetrical faces are typically perceived as more attractive, but you probably already knew that.” He kept glancing between my eyes and our hands. Our fingers weren’t interlaced but our palms were pressed together. 
“I did know that. I also know that you’re cute.” I squeezed his hand when he shook his head with a small smile. Suddenly I realized that our hands being together went against his no handshake rule. I went to pull away with a muttered, “Sorry-” But he just squeezed back and held me there. 
“You really think I’m cute?” He asked skeptically.
I smiled widely. “Yes, I do.” His eyebrows raised and he shook his head in disbelief. I simply grinned at him as he tried to wrap his head around the idea that I could possibly be attracted to him. It was such a sweet sentiment it made me blush. I leaned forward in my seat a bit and reached out for his other hand. I was feeling bold. “So are you gonna ask me on a date or would you rather me do it?” 
He smirked up at me shyly. “Would you like to get dinner with me when we get back?” He asked, interlacing our fingers. 
“I’d love that.” I answered, squeezing his hand. The smile he gave me was so bright and brilliant it made my own face light up. 
“Yes, Pretty Boy, get some!” Morgan said from next to us, apparently not as asleep as I had thought. I laughed out loud as Spencer flushed down to his neck. Morgan smirked and winked at the two of us. 
Our fingers stayed interlaced throughout the rest of the flight as we talked in hushed tones and got to know each other. Every word out of his mouth made me fall a little deeper, a little faster. It was way too soon to call it love, but I knew it could get there. The little seed in my heart was growing exponentially, and the way his thumb danced over my skin didn’t help it.
A/N: Thanks for reading! I always appreciate likes/reblogs/comments/etc! Also if you’d like to be added to my taglist just message me or comment on this! (If you’ve made it this far here’s a secret: there might be a sequel to this fic if enough people want it :)) 
taglist: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​ @rusticreid​
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lockefanfic · 4 years ago
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Business Trip: Pt 44 - Meeting
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Park Choa was great at hiding her orgasms.
Perhaps it was experience borne from all those afternoons when you bent her your desk while you pounded her from behind, your office door open the whole while. Or when you pressed her against the wall of a bathroom stall and pinned her against it with your cock, even as your colleagues stepped in and out of the bathroom unaware of what was going on in one of the stalls just a few feet away. Or when she sat on the conference room table, legs spread atop it while you devoured her slick, dripping pussy even as your fellow employees held a conversation in the hallway just past the open door. 
Regardless of how she learned how to do it, her ability to appear normal and unbothered, even as an orgasm coursed through her veins, was admirable - on top of being a wicked delight to watch.
From the point of view of the laptop’s webcam, only the white knuckle fist made by her small, pale hand and the slight blush of pink on her cheeks betrayed the fact that wave after wave of pleasure was wracking her senses. 
Only from your point of view, sitting next to her, could one see that the blush on her cheeks extended to her quivering, trembling thighs - spread widely to allow Kim Dahyun enough room to press her pale, cute little face against her colleague’s dripping pussy. Choa’s other hand strokes the younger girl’s hair almost lazily, as though she hadn’t just brought her to an orgasm that she was only barely managing to hide.
“Officer Douma has informed us that Rose will be extradited to Canada, where she’ll face the charges that have been levelled against her,” you state to the other participant of the meeting, who, thankfully for you and Choa, was in an entirely different country. “Rose will be transported to Haneda International by Officers Douma and Miyawaki two days from now. Officer Miyawaki will inform me the second she’s on the plane.”
“That’s good news,” JYP answers from the laptop screen. From the serious expression on his face you knew he had no idea of what was going on beneath the table. “Were you able to get any leads from Rose before she was taken away?”
“Yes. We were able to get the location of Blackpink’s Japanese safehouse. Rose denied any involvement with Seulgi or Yeri, but she implied that Blackpink is aware of their presence in Japan, and we expect to find leads on them when we make contact with the remaining Blackpink members.”
JYP takes a moment to digest your news, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Next to you Dahyun lifts her head from between Choa’s thighs, her own chin glistening with the older girl’s juices. Her tongue darts out to lick the slick wetness from her lips, a smile appearing on her face as she savors her colleague’s sweet, tangy taste on her palette.
“Proceed carefully,” JYP states after a short silence, “the safety of you and your team is paramount. I want you to leave any dangerous on-site activities to the law enforcement officers.”
“Understood,” you reply, understanding JYP’s reluctance to place you or your team in danger given the events of the past month.
“On a much lighter note, I think we have the head of our European offices to thank for her role in Rose’s capture!” JYP states, turning to Choa with a wide, proud grin on his face.
Choa takes a moment to respond - a split second pause, and one JYP could likely chalk up to a momentary internet lag spike - but one you knew was caused by the fact that the flushed, blushing woman was still recovering from her post-orgasm haze.
“Y-yes, s-sir,” Choa answers, taking a moment to compose herself. “It was a small thing, really. It was you who hatched the plan.”
“Stil, without you informing us of Rose’s warrant in the Netherlands, the plan never could have happened. Job well done, Miss Park.”
“Thank you, s-sir,” Choa answers. You hazard a glimpse down beneath the desk to see that Dahyun had begun to clean the older woman’s thighs and crotch of her spilt juices, her pink tongue darting out in wide strokes to lick the slick wetness from the soft, flushed skin between Choa’s thighs.
“What are your next steps?” JYP answers, turning to you again. Next to you, Choa lets a soft sigh escape her lips, although she covers it up by faking a small cough shortly thereafter.
“We’re going to be setting up surveillance of the Blackpink safehouse,” you begin, “and we’ll proceed from there.”
“Okay. Remember - safety first. We’ve had enough close brushes with danger,” JYP replies. You nod, understanding his implication that one of your team members was currently still in Korea recovering from a gunshot wound.
“She tells me she’s doing much better,” you say. Jeongyeon had bombarded you with texts and calls regularly, wanting to know everything about what was going on with the team.
“She is. Seolhyun checks on her every day. She can walk on her own now, much to the chagrin of the nurses at the hospital. She disappears from her hospital room quite often, I’m told. Apparently she’s unsatisfied with the hospital’s wi-fi and is on the hunt for a better signal.”
The thought of Jeongyeon wandering the halls of the hospital holding up her laptop looking for a signal brought a smile to your face.
“She’s chomping at the bit to return to you and the team,” JYP continues. “Her doctors and I have tried to convince her that she should take a month or two away to recover, but she seems adamant in her desire to join you in Japan once she’s medically cleared.”
“We look forward to her return, but we trust you’ll be able to keep her from returning to duty before she’s ready, sir,” you state.
“I’ll do my best, but I don’t know if anything can stop that girl when she decides she wants to do something,” JYP answers, thoughtfully. “Anyway, I think that does it for the update. Keep up the good work and keep me in the loop of any new developments. I believe I’m to meet with Miss Kim next for a logistics and technology update?”
Miss Kim was currently on her knees licking the last of Choa’s juices from her thighs, but you make a show of pretending she was actually outside the room, ready and waiting to join the meeting.
“Yes, sir. I’ll call her in.”
JYP nods, giving you and Choa a last affirmative smile that you both return. Choa awkwardly pulls her short miniskirt down before she shuffles off camera; Dahyun, smartly, crawls on her knees to the other side of the table where she rises to her feet, wipes the last of Choa’s juices from her lips, and smooths out her dress before stepping into the shot, taking Choa’s seat to give off the impression she had just walked into the room.
“Hello, sir!” Dahyun greets, raising her hand and giving her boss a cute little wave, looking for all intents and purposes like she was shooting a commercial and hadn’t just spent the last twenty minutes tongue-deep in her colleague.
You move towards the office exit, smiling at the cute post-orgasm blush that still lingered on Choa’s cheeks. Your former executive assistant had grown her hair out to a shoulder length and dyed it a darker brown - far from the short blonde bob that was once her trademark. But her new haircut and less intense makeup style had given her a more mature, womanly look. Before, she was a cute little minx prancing around the office in a short miniskirt and tight white blouse - and while the short miniskirt and white blouse remained, the creature that filled it was a more experienced, more mature feline than the one that was your executive assistant.
Your hand reaches for the doorknob, but is stopped halfway there by Choa’s pale hand on your wrist. When you lock eyes with her you find a look you’d seen on many an afternoon.
She steps close, her hand travelling up your arm to squeeze a bicep. She brings her mouth to your ear, whispering low enough to ensure that neither Dahyun nor JYP could hear.
“I think we might need an afternoon meeting to… debrief, don’t you agree, sir?”
You could feel from the movement of her cheek against yours that her lips have curled into a wicked smile. You’d known that a “meeting” with Choa was an inevitability given her return, but you hadn’t had time to indulge her given how busy you were with Rose and then Sakura. You return her smile with one of your own, eager to take the eager woman up to your hotel room to make up for lost time.
Your hand reaches for the doorknob again, only to be stopped once more.
Choa looks you in the eye before raising a hand and wagging a finger tip in a “no” motion. Then she places the same fingertip at her mouth to indicate silence.
Over her shoulder you glance at Dahyun, who had begun to give her update to JYP over the videoconference call. You finally catch on to Choa’s plan, and the devilish grin on her lips is soon mirrored on your own.
Giving you a long, lustful look, Choa turns and steps towards the other end of the conference room table, leaning over it while facing Dahyun. Dahyun is momentarily distracted by her colleague, but soon returns her attention to JYP, even if you could tell by the way she had begun to squirm in her seat that she was already caught on to what was about to happen in front of her.
Satisfied that she had her younger colleague’s attention, Choa slips her blue cardigan from her shoulders and looks back at you, still lingering by the entrance to the conference room. Without breaking eye contact, she reaches down to the hem of her miniskirt and pulls it up to her waist, revealing her full, round, naked ass - and her still-glistening thighs.
You lick your lips, and giving thanks for her reappearance in your life, you step behind Choa. 
Your arms start at her sides, caressing her thin waist and the delicious flare of her hips. When your fingertips finally reach her naked ass she trembles slightly, her mouth frozen in an open “o” as your touch reignites the long-dormant lust she’d once held for you. You give both her cheeks a squeeze, delighting in the fact that they’d lost none of their firmness or perkiness in her time away.
You need to feel more of her, need to reintroduce yourself to the tight little body that you’d spent many an afternoon pounding into submission. You’d had Park Choa bent over your desk, pressed against the wall, had her ride you in your office chair more times than you could count. But you never tired of her, never tired of filling her tight wet pussy or hot needy mouth with your cum almost every afternoon. And as your fingers make their way to the buttons of the tight white blouse she wore, the reignited lust in your loins and the gathering saliva in your mouth convince you that your hunger for her had not waned in the slightest - if anything, her absence had only made you want her more.
When your fingers begin to undo Choa’s blouse, Dahyun lets a soft gasp escape her lips - one she covers up with a cough, as Choa did earlier. 
“I’m sorry, sir. My throat is a little sore,” she apologizes, before quickly changing the subject and doing her best to delve into the logistics updates JYP had asked her for - even if her trembling fingers as she sorted through the paper files on the table betrayed the arousal that was quickly growing inside her.
Not even ten feet away, you have finally finished unbuttoning Choa’s blouse, revealing the smooth, milky skin of her torso - and the absence of a bra.
Your hands start at her waist before curling around to her front, finding and cupping both of her round, full breasts in your hands. You let a hot, needy breath escape your throat and into Choa’s ear as you press yourself against her. She reaches up with her left hand and runs it through your hair - you reciprocate the affection and place soft kisses against the side of her face before she turns her head and captures your lips with hers, your tongues quickly reintroducing themselves to each other. The fingernails of the hand in your hair dig into your scalp, almost painfully, as you finally capture the woman’s stiff nipples in your hands, teasing and pinching the tight nubs between your thumb and index fingers.
Dahyun coughs again.
“Do you need to grab a glass of water, Miss Kim? Your throat sounds quite dry,” JYP asks, concerned.
“Oh, no, not at all, s-sir. I’m quite f-fine,” Dahyun answers, “I’m far from d-dry.”
You can almost feel Choa struggle to suppress a chuckle against your lips - but she soon has little time for that as you begin to slip your right hand down her torso, past a flat, tight stomach and the front of her skirt, still bunched up around her waist. When you reach her naked crotch, it doesn’t take long to find her slick, dripping folds.
The hand in your scalp digs deeper into your skull. Her free hand tightens around your wrist in a deathgrip. She only barely manages to stifle a short gasp of pleasure that escapes her throat.
You’d had enough. You’d been without Park Choa’s body for too long. Your free hand releases her trembling breast from its grip before quickly undoing your own belt and zipper, finally freeing your stiff cock from its confines to slap thickly against Choa’s lower back. Choa gasps at the feeling of your meat against her skin - a wordless sound of happiness, a feeling of relief at having been returned something she’d gone too long without.
She turns her head as best she can, using the grip on your scalp to pull your head forward until her needy, gasping lips are next to your ear.
“Fuck me now please, sir.”
Choa was wet and dripping and needy, still recovering from Dahyun’s oral work just minutes before. Your cock ached to be inside her body, having been away from it for so long. And so when you enter her, slipping into her tight wet heat for the first time in many months, you both couldn’t help but let out a sharp, needy gasp of desire.
“Did you hear that, Miss Kim?” JYP asks suddenly.
“Hmm?” Dahyun answers, doing her best to brush off the lustful sound of her boss penetrating her colleague to the hilt only a few feet away. “Apologies, we’re using a conference room in the hotel and it’s p-possible that the m-microphone is picking up the noise of.. f-fellow g-guests.”
“Ah, understood,” JYP says, seemingly satisfied by Dahyun’s explanation. “Now, what was that you were saying about the surveillance equipment you needed?”
Dahyun does her best to continue the meeting, shuffling through the notebook and papers she had on her desk in an attempt to find some piece of information she needed as she tries, with mixed success, to continue the meeting with her boss. Not even a few feet away, you slowly begin to draw your cock out from Choa’s pussy, revelling in the tightness of her body and the way her lips gripped your glistening, slick cock as you withdraw until only the head of your cock is inside her. You relish the sight of her squirming, trembling, almost begging to be filled once more - until you push back inside her with a smooth, deep thrust.
Choa was every bit as tight and wet and hot as you remembered. You’d been with more than your fair share of women in the time since she’d left your team - many of whom were younger, hotter, tighter or wetter. But there was something about Choa that attracted you like no other woman in your life. Maybe it was the inherent maturity she held, the sly, demure, confident sexiness she’d always exuded. Other women, like Mina, for example, gave off an ice queen princess persona that was attractive if intimidating. Others, like Sana, wore their allure freely and openly, like a perfume.
Choa didn’t need to do either. Her sexiness was a mature, reserved sexiness, the kind worn by a woman who knew all the rules of the game, knew how to play it, and didn’t need the overbearing exuberance or mind games of her more youthful colleagues to win it. Maybe it was her confidence, the way she carried herself that aroused you the most.
Or maybe it was the fact that despite the confidence she held in her personal and professional life, she loved - craved - being dominated by you.
Her body was every bit as sexy as her younger compatriots, tight and firm in all the right places. Her pussy tightens and pulsates around you, adjusting to your girth as its owner reacquainted herself with your stiff cock, her mouth frozen in a wordless, soundless “o”, eyes shut as she tried to relish every thrust, every entry and exit in and out of her needy, wanton body.
Your hands wander - crushing her hips in your grip, squeezing a needy, bouncing breast, grasping a shoulder to give yourself better leverage to pound deeper and deeper into Choa’s body. She leans forward, bracing herself now against the table with her hands, bending over to allow you to fully take her, fully use her body for your own needs. Choa throws her head back, bites her lip, tries to do anything to keep the lustful, wordless cries of pleasure from escaping needy, trembling lips.
Her open blouse lets her naked breasts bounce wildly with each slap of your hips against her ass. Your swinging balls slap her wet flesh with each hilt-deep penetration - and for a moment, the feel of her wet flesh on your balls as her juices drip down your sack causes you to forget that you were both trying to be silent as you pound Choa’s wet, hot pussy on the conference room table, the echo of wet flesh hitting wet flesh steadily rising in volume until it filled the room.
“Do you hear that, Miss Kim?” JYP asks, “...that slapping sound?”
“Y-yes, I-I think I-do,” Dahyun responds, thankful that she could probably blame the internet connection for the stutter she had developed whenever she was aroused. A quick glance at her confirmed that only one of her hands was above the table now, the other likely busy between her legs. To her credit she tried her best to look confused, glancing around the room as though she were genuinely puzzled as to where the sound was coming from. “I t-think it must b-be some construction or-or something going on n-nearby. T-there’s a lot of… hammering going on, sir.”
“Ah,” JYP answers. “It sounds like they’re really pounding away at something.”
“Y-yes, it definitely d-does, sir!” Dahyun answers, perhaps a little more enthusiastically than she was hoping. Her cheeks flushed, she does her best to change the subject. “I h-hope they finish th-their work soon, b-because I can’t bear t-to hear it for much longer!”
“I understand, Miss Kim. It must be difficult to work in those circumstances. Perhaps you might want to look into making arrangements to have the team work in one of those co-op working spaces that are all the rage lately. It’s important that the team have a suitable working environment, without any bothersome distractions going on in the background.”
“Y-yes, sir. I-I’ll d-do it right away. I’ll d-definitely make sure th-they can pound away on t-their work for as long as they need, without interruption!”
You would have smiled, would have giggled at the sight of Dahyun trying so desperately to maintain some semblance of professionalism during her meeting - but you had little time for such concerns, not when Choa’s pussy was pulsating around you, each thrust into her needy, wet hole making her tighten in anticipation for an orgasm that was just around the corner.
Choa’s hands search desperately for something on the table to grip, something to use as an anchor for her quivering, trembling body. Unable to find anything, she whips a hand back and finds your scalp again. But you are almost angered, almost irritated by her painful grip on your skull, and you feel a dark need to take her, dominate her the way you used to on many an afternoon in your office back home. You wanted to take her, use her the way you knew she wanted and loved to be used.
You grasp her hand by her wrist and tear it from your scalp, taking her other wrist and pinning both to her lower back. She falls forward onto the table with a thud, her cheek and naked breasts pressed flat against it. With your other hand you reach forward and grasp a handful of her dark chestnut hair, pulling her head back, opening up her throat and relishing the deep, lustful moan that leaves her throat - uncaring of the fact that her boss was on the other side of video conference call just a few feet away.
“Mmmfffmfmmuhnnngh!” she gasps, too far gone, too far lost in the bliss caused by your pounding cock that she could have cared less if JYP were actually in the room with you, watching you pound her over the conference room table. All she cared about was each thrust, each penetration, each entry of your thick, hard cock into her needy, hot wet pussy.
Choa orgasms, and Dahyun, seeing what was about to happen, reacts swiftly.
“Ahahhhehem!” Dahyun shouts as she pretends to sneeze - just loud enough to cover the needy, lustful moan of pleasure that leaves Choa’s throat. “I’m so s-sorry sir, I think I may be… coming... down with s-something.”
“Oh, no,” JYP says with what sounded like genuine concern. “Please take care of yourself, Miss Kim. If you need a day or two to rest, please don’t hesitate to let your boss know-”
“Oh I t-think I’ll b-be okay, s-sir. I w-want t-to cum t-”
“Miss Kim?”
“Oh! Sorry s-sir. I meant to s-say, I want to come to work! Y-yes, that’s it. A-apologies, sir, there must be something wrong with the internet c-connection. S-shall we w-wrap up t-this meeting before t-the connection d-dies?”
Dahyun does her best to finish up the meeting - you do your best to keep from cumming too soon, even as Choa’s pussy pulsates and throbs around your pistoning cock as you fuck her through her orgasm.
Your grip tightens on her hair, your other hand pinning her wrists tightly against the small of her back. The dominance you were exerting over Choa was utterly intoxicating, the feel of her body catering to your every whim making you dizzy with pleasure. The call of your orgasm beckoned once more, and this time you were happy to answer.
Thrusting as deeply inside Park Choa’s slick, needy pussy as you could, you finally let your orgasm overtake you. Thick, hot ropes of semen shoot deep inside her body, painting her walls with warm white cum. Choa lets a soft whimper escape her lips with each burst of semen that fills her pussy, biting her lip in an only half-successful attempt to muffle the wordless moans of pleasure from escaping her mouth as she is filled to the brim with cum.
You slump forward, finally releasing Choa’s wrists and hair as your strength finally gives out. You only barely manage to hold yourself up by your forearms as you breathe heavily, filling starved lungs with oxygen as the exertion of the quick but intensely pleasurable fuck finally overwhelms you. Choa is equally a mess, her face plastered by her cheek to the table, the hot mist of her heavy breathing evident on the dark polished wood. You are vaguely aware of Dahyun wrapping up her meeting with JYP, but her voice sounds distant and foggy, as though she is far away - the only sensation that mattered was the warm, hot, pulsating wetness that surrounded your cock and the juices, yours and Choa’s, that had begun to leak from her cum-stuffed hole to drip down her trembling thighs and onto the floor of the conference room.
Eventually Choa gathers the strength to raise her upper body from the desk, still breathing heavily. Her blouse slips from her shoulder, leaving her almost topless. You couldn’t help but snake an arm around to caress and squeeze a full breast, softly, tenderly, thankful to be able to partake in the pleasures of her body again. Choa turns her head to whisper into your ear once more.
“That was a… productive meeting, sir - just like old times.”
“Definitely,” you whisper back.
“I think that’s everything, Miss Kim,” JYP states. Judging by his tone you could tell he had no idea that two of his staff had just fucked each others’ brains out just outside the view of his camera. “Job well done, as always.”
“T-thank you, s-sir. I-I t-think it’s t-time for me to c-clean up here. G-good night!”
Dahyun waves quickly to the webcam before slamming the laptop shut. Choa, still impaled to the hilt with your cock, turns to Dahyun with a sly smile.
“I never had the chance to provide you with training on your position before I left, Miss Kim. We do want to make sure you are able to execute all the duties associated with your position, don’t we, sir?”
“We do,” you agree. You squeeze Choa’s breast a little tighter, eliciting a warm growl of approval from the woman and a whimper of pleasure from Dahyun as she watches you toy with Choa’s chest. The idea of Choa dominating another woman even as she allowed herself to be dominated in turn was utterly arousing.
“Good. Your first training session begins in twenty minutes, Miss Kim - in your boss’ hotel room. Don’t be late.”
---
“Velvet 1, report in.”
“Overwatch, Velvet 1. Nothing to report, over.” Irene responds into the radio, her tone straightforward and no-nonsense.
“Same shit, different hour - as I’m sure you can tell from the video feed,” Momo chirps from somewhere off-camera. There is a sound on the radio that sounded a bit like a sigh from Jihyo, who was sitting in the driver’s seat.
The surveillance camera that Jihyo, Irene and Momo are operating from inside the van parked opposite Blackpink’s safehouse doesn’t show it, but you could tell that Momo and Jihyo were as bored as you were, even if Irene seemed alert, professional, and businesslike.
“Velvet 1, Overwatch. Understood. Out,” Nayeon says, clicking a button on the radio console and turning off the connection to the surveillance van. Two days of surveillance on the Blackpink house, in a nondescript middle-class neighborhood of Tokyo, were fruitless thus far - not a single person had been spotted entering or leaving, despite your team maintaining a 24 hour watch on it in rotating shifts. The surveillance camera feed being streamed from Irene’s camera may as well have been a still picture.
The rear of the command and control van, parked two blocks away from the surveillance van, was starting to feel a little cramped. You would’ve given anything to step out of it, even for a few minutes, to stretch your legs. Nayeon and Jihyo, however, had been adamant that you stay inside for security purposes.
You were thankful, at least, that Choa had volunteered for this shift. The session with her and Dahyun had been quite a memorable one, lasting most of the afternoon and almost making you both late for the start of the shift with Nayeon. The image of Choa on all fours as she crawled atop Dahyun’s body was still fresh on your mind - as was the feeling of both of their tight, dripping pussies as you took turns fucking both of them in that position before spilling your cum on Dahyun’s milky, creamy stomach at Choa’s behest. 
It was thus understandable, given her recent expenditure of energy, that Choa was the first to fall asleep, dozing away with her head leaning against the passenger seat of the van. You found yourself smiling to yourself as you listened to her snore softly, thankful that she was back in your life. The past couple of months without her had been taxing, to say the least, but they were made even more so by Choa’s absence. She had long been a stabilizing, reliable force in your life and without her steady support you found yourself a little less ready to deal with the constant twists and turns of your line of work.
You stretch your arms and legs as best you could given the van’s cramped cabin before a small yawn escapes your lips.
“You can take a nap, it’s fine,” Nayeon says, as if reading your mind. “We’ll wake you up if anything happens. Choa has the next watch, anyway. Just pass me one of those bananas before you doze off,” she says, motioning with her chin towards the grocery store bag of packaged food and drink that was meant to last the three of you for the entirety of your eight hour shift.
You smile back as you grab one of the fruits from the corner store grocery bag and hand it to her.
“This shit is bananas! B-A-N-A-N-A-S!” she sings softly to herself as she returns her attention back to the monitors, humming the tune to the song as she peels the banana.
“Don’t take advantage of me when I’m asleep,” you say jokingly as you try to make yourself as comfortable as possible on the van floor.
“Don’t worry, you wouldn’t even know it if I did. I’m a ninja. N-I-N-J-J-A!” she sings to the tune of the song.
“There’s only one-”
Nayeon looks quizzically at you, legitimately puzzled as to what you were about to say.
“...Nothing. Good night, Nayeon.”
“Sweet dreams,” she says with a soft smile as she takes a bite of her banana.
---
You awaken to the sound of raised voices.
“Are you sure? Jihyo, does he match any descriptions we have of Blackpink associates?”
“No,” Jihyo replies over the radio. “Negative ID.”
“We should fucking grab him,” Nayeon hisses under her breath.
“What? No, we’re here for surveillance, not kicking down doors,” says Momo over the radio. “Let’s step back and watch what he does. We should contact Officer Miyawaki - she’s escorting Rose to the airport and she should be informed before-”
“I’m not gonna sit in this van for another two days twiddling my thumbs,” Nayeon snaps. “The sooner we track down Blackpink the sooner we track down Seulgi and Yeri. Jihyo, are you with me?”
There is a moment of hesitation that is palpable even over the radio as Jihyo considers the situation.
“Yes,” Jihyo states. “Time is of the essence here. The house is clearly empty, and has been for a while. We might never get this chance again.”
“Wait, what the fuck is going on?” you say, wiping the sleep from your eyes. You crawl on the floor of the van to where Nayeon and Choa are hunched over the radio and video feeds.
“Irene spotted a male walking into the safehouse while I was on watch,” Choa explains. “He’s alone and approached the building on foot.”
Nayeon retrieves her kevlar vest from the storage racks opposite the monitor, strapping it on quickly before turning back to the radio. “Jihyo, let’s move-”
“That’s crazy,” Momo snaps over the radio. “Let’s think about this. This could be a trap. Or it could just be that Rose was lying to us all along and this house has nothing to do with Blackpink. Let’s get Officer Miyawaki here to ID this guy - maybe he’s on the Tokyo PD database or something. Then we can-”
“They know where Seulgi and Yeri are,” Nayeon interrupts, her tone sharp. “Or haven’t you been paying attention? Seulgi fucking shot me, and it’s only dumb fucking luck that Yeri didn’t kill Jeongyeon. Isn’t that our goal? To track down Seulgi and Yeri? ”
“No, our goal is to bring down Blackpink,” Momo replies, her voice raised. “It’s them that manipulated Irene into everything she did. Or is it you that hasn’t been paying attention, Officer Im?”
The use of Nayeon’s last name and title must have been the tipping point for the older woman.
“You know what, I don’t fucking take orders from you, Miss Hirai. Jihyo, meet me on the corner. We’re moving on the house.”
“Nayeon, wait,” you say quickly, grabbing the heated young officer by her upper arm as she makes to exit the van. “Let’s slow down and think about this.”
“What is there to think about? We’ve been sitting here for two days waiting for an opportunity. Here it is, right in front of us.”
You shake your head, trying to make sense of the situation.
“Are you sure this is the best course of action? Something doesn’t feel right.”
“Of course I do,” Nayeon replies. The confidence in her eyes is unmistakable - it was a look you were familiar with. “The fact that there’s no one in the house means that this isn’t Blackpink’s primary safehouse. We need to move on this guy - if he’s there on Blackpink’s orders he probably knows where they actually are. If he slips away, he might never come back.”
Your grip loosens on Nayeon’s arm, but doesn’t leave it.
“Let me go,” she says, her voice unexpectedly soft. “Please.”
You sit there in silence for a few moments - the moment seemed to drag on as you slowly, finally let go of Nayeon’s arm.
“Okay,” you finally say.
Nayeon gives you a final nod, before swinging open the rear door of the van, drawing her pistol and racking the slide to chamber a round, and then running towards the safehouse.
---
The streaming feed from Nayeon’s vest camera was surprisingly clear - with her pistol held out in front of her it seemed almost like a screenshot from a frighteningly realistic video game. Except this was far from a game, and the consequences and danger were very real.
“Police! Come out with your hands up!” Nayeon shouts into the doorway. Opposite her, on the other side of the door, is Jihyo.
“Police! Come out now!” Nayeon repeats.
When there is no answer, Nayeon turns to Jihyo, who nods in understanding. The younger officer reaches for the doorknob, finding it unlocked. Hand still on the knob, she nods towards Nayeon, who seems to give her the go-ahead.
A second later Jihyo pushes the door open, and Nayeon steps into the house.
“Police! Come out with your hands up!” Nayeon shouts, her pistol held in front of her as she scans the entrance foyer. Jihyo follows her into the home. On the small genkan area next to the door are a single pair of shoes - indicating that the male suspect was the only person in the house.
“Room right,” Nayeon states, her eyes not moving from the hallway as she identifies the presence of a large living room space to the right of the entrance. As soon as Jihyo enters the foyer she enters the living room, Nayeon following soon after, pistol sweeping up and following her line of sight.
With well-practiced precision the two officers clear the bottom floor of the house, always covering each others’ backs, relying on quick, prompt verbal communications and commands to swiftly and efficiently sweep the rooms and confirm that there were no threats on the ground floor.
“Moving to the second deck,” Nayeon says into the radio. It’s when she is halfway up the stairs that they hear a bedroom door slam shut upstairs.
“Hands up! Police! Hands up!” Nayeon and Jihyo shout, “Come out with your hands up!  Do it now!”
When the upstairs individual makes no move to open the door, Nayeon and Jihyo quickly scramble up the stairs, each taking up position on either side of the door. Just as with the front door, Jihyo tests the doorknob, finding it unlocked, before nodding towards Nayeon. The older officer takes a moment to compose herself before nodding back.
For a moment, two blocks away in the surveillance van, time seemed to slow for you. You’d witnessed that sensation only once before - during the shooting in Seoul. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, and you were suddenly aware of every little detail in the feed of Nayeon’s vest camera - the way two strands of Jihyo’s hair fell into her eyes, the wood grain design on the bedroom door, the dark purple nail polish on Nayeon’s fingernails, wrapped around the grip of her Glock. You could almost feel that something important was waiting for her behind that door, and a small part of you wanted to freeze time long enough for you to run over to the house and stop her from opening it.
Jihyo opens the door, and Nayeon bursts into the room, pistol up and ready.
In the centre of the empty bedroom is a young teenager, dressed in all black. In his hands is what looked like a tablet of some sort.
“Put your fucking hands in the air! Do it now!” Nayeon shouts.
“Put your hands in the air or you will be shot!” Jihyo exclaims. The two officers take up positions in the room, both of their handguns aimed squarely at the terrified teen’s head.
The teenager, looking utterly terrified, begins to speak quickly in Japanese. He gestures towards the tablet in his hands, but his words come out garbled and slurred as the fear of being shot overtakes his ability to speak clearly. Jihyo nods to Nayeon, who nods back - the older woman keeps her pistol trained on the young man’s  head as Jihyo approaches him, retrieves the tablet, and then proceeds to handcuff him.
“Blue 1 to Overwatch, we need a translator,” Nayeon says into the radio.
Two blocks away, you finally release the breath you were holding. 
---
“He was paid to come to this house and leave this tablet here,” Momo says as she turns away from the sobbing, handcuffed teenager to face you and your team. “He says he was hired by some random user on a forum who told him the combination to a public storage locker in a nearby subway station. In the locker were his cash payment and the tablet. That’s all he knows.”
“Turn the tablet on,” you say, eager to see get to the bottom of what the hell was going on.
Nayeon holds the tablet’s power button down, and the screen comes to life as your team gathers around it.
---
The video was clearly shot on a handheld camera, if the jittery swaying was any indication. The camera is pointed at a dirty, dusty floor. There are nondescript cardboard boxes piled around with piles of clothing thrown atop them, along with several silhouettes that you eventually realize are mannequins.
There are murmurs in the background, barely audible. The video swings up, and a young woman of Asian descent, clearly the bearer of the camera itself, appears. She is cute, but there is a glint of instability in her wild eyes.
“Why hello there, my friends!” she begins, her tone equal parts playfulness and sarcasm. She is dressed in a punk-inspired rocker fit, with wildly dyed hair, loose black pants, webbed t-shirt and a sports bra. “If you’re watching this you’ve just missed me! Too bad!”
There is a murmur off-camera, and the young woman lets a look of faux embarrassment appear on her face. 
“Oh, how rude of me! I’m Lisa, of a little group called Blackpink. We’re finally in your area! Annyeonghaseyo! Konnichiwa!”
Next to you, your team members shuffle anxiously. Nayeon clenches her fists. Momo lets an angry exhalation of breath escape her flared nostrils.
“I bet you’re wondering what this video is about, so I’m not gonna waste your time. We have a present for you! But first, let me introduce my good friend and teammate - Jisoo!”
She swings the camera around, pointing it at a similarly aged young woman who, judging by her name, was Korean. She seemed a stark contrast to her friend, with her more subdued clothing - and the blank, unreadable look on her face. Was it nervousness, anxiety, or something else?
Lisa turns the camera so she is facing it again.
“Time for our present! Ta-da!!”
The camera swings back to Jisoo - except this time it is panned more downward, to reveal two figures on their knees next to the Korean girl. Both have their hands bound behind their backs, and what appeared to be burlap bags thrown over their heads. From the muffled sounds leaving the masks, they both appeared to have their mouths gagged.
“Why don’t you unwrap their presents for them, Jisoo?”
Jisoo hesitates for a moment as an unreadable look flashes over her features. Regret? Disgust? Whatever it was, it was there only for a moment - and she removes the burlap sacks from their captives to reveal Seulgi and Yeri, their mouths bound by cloth gags. Both struggle in their bonds, but Seulgi especially had a fire in her eyes that told you she’d be happy to tear the heads off of her captors if she could.
In the room Irene lets an audible gasp escape her lips - she had been stoic and emotionless since she had joined the team, but the sight of her closest friends bound and at the mercy of her enemies was finally enough to break her stony faced facade.
“I’m going to kill her,” Irene hisses, barely audible, but with unmistakable conviction.
Lisa pans the camera back to Jisoo. “Aren’t our presents great, Jisoo? Do you think they’ll like them?”
Jisoo’s face remains unreadable - although for a moment she looks directly into the camera. She blinks rapidly, eyes shutting and opening at random intervals, as though she had dust in her eyes.
“Anyway------,” Lisa says, awkwardly, as her teammate doesn’t give her the reaction she was looking for. She turns the camera back to herself, the expression on her face leading you to believe she was uncomfortable with her teammate’s behaviour. “We have one last surprise for our friends... but I think Officer Miyawaki might be better positioned to tell you what it is. By the time you watch this, her surprise should be ready, so go give her a call and find out what it is! That does it for me.Toodles! Say bye, Jisoo!”
Lisa turns the camera to Jisoo, but the sullen girl has already looked away, her sad eyes on Seulgi and Yeri as the video cuts to black. A few moments of silence pass as your teammates digest what they had just witnessed.
“I know where they are,” Irene states.
---
The ringing dial tone of Sakura’s phone seemed to last forever as you wait for her to pick up. You were more than a little terrified at what her part of the “gift” was, and already your mind was beginning to fear the worst.
When Sakura finally answers, the first thing you hear is a wet, coughing sound.
“What the- Sakura, Sakura! Are you alright?” you say into your phone.
For a few moments there is no reply. Sakura’s coughing fit continues. In the background another woman is similarly coughing heavily. The other woman attempts to spit in a vain attempt to clear her mouth and throat of whatever was ailing her, before releasing a string of profanities in English and one other vaguely European language.
“Sakura! Sakura, are you okay? Where are you?” you repeat.
“I-I’m fine,” she says, finally. In the background, police sirens wail. The other woman begins to speak into a radio, every word sounding as though it was painful to speak.
“Th-this is Officer Douma. We- we…”
“Somi!” Sakura snaps. “Somi, are you broken?”
“I-I’m okay. Are you good?”
“I-I’m good. The- the prisoner!”
“Shit!”
There is the sound of heavy footsteps on broken glass and a few painful sounding profanities as one or both of the women attempt to stand.
“Fuck, fuck! She’s fucking gone!” Somi exclaims.
“What!?” you half-shout into your phone, “Sakura, what’s going on? Are you okay?”
Another wet cough. Sakura spits, trying to clear her throat.
“Our ride to the airport got hit by something,” she manages to say. “And Rose - she’s gone.”
---
Author’s Note: :O 
Thanks as always for your support!
Shout out to @thelastdrop​ lol.
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unholyobsessions · 4 years ago
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K9 Approval
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader
Description: Spencer starts crushing on the cute dog handler
Requested: Yes 
A/N: Not really falling in love, more of a meet cute but I am considering writing a short blurb as pt2 who knows
Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, typical criminal minds stuff
Word Count: 1.8k
Masterlist 
It’s a pretty standard case. Spencer wishes he didn’t have to classify a number of women getting kidnapped and murdered as ‘standard’ but there is nothing particularly strange about it. The good thing (well not exactly good, more like convenient) is that it’s a local case and he is able to go home to his apartment every night. 
When he arrives to the BAU on their third day on the case he knows as soon as he looks at Hotch that this case just became anything but standard. 
“He sent a note,” his boss speaks and all color drains from his face. A note can either be extremely helpful, or extremely dangerous. He rushes to follow Hotch into the round table room where the rest of the team is crowded over a lined sheet of paper. 
I’ve always enjoyed a nice walk in the park. Especially those with lots of trees. Makes it easy to hide from the monsters crawling in the dark. It’s also easy for the monsters to hide their secrets. Can you find my secret? I’ll give you a hint. She’s no longer breathing. 
Spencer’s brain immediately tries to find any codes that could be hidden within the words but comes up with nothing. He picks up the plastic bag the paper is in and starts to read the note again. 
“Reid what can you tell us?” Hotch asks, arms crossed over his chest. 
“There is a lot of abbreviation. I’ve instead of I have. Lots instead of a lot. It’s casual, almost nonchalant. The pen is pressed lightly against the paper, which shows that he was calm as he wrote it. He’s confident, not worried about getting caught.” Spencer explains his findings without looking up. “Garcia are there any parks within the geographical comfort zone?” 
Garcia immediately starts typing away on her computer, not needing to look at the keyboard to click the correct keys. In a matter of seconds she’s speaking the location of two parks, both conveniently placed in the center of the comfort zone. 
“We need to get two teams of search dogs in each park. Morgan, Reid, and Prentiss go to the one on fifth avenue. Rossi and JJ you’re with me at the park on eighth. We need to find her.” 
. . . 
Arriving about twenty minutes later, the park was already crowded with search dogs and their handlers. Spencer crinkled his nose, never particularly excited to work with the dogs. He was vaguely listening to whatever Morgan was saying next to him as he let his eyes scan over the park. 
There were certainly a lot of trees and it seemed like the place children would enjoy playing hide and seek in. It wasn’t huge but it was certainly bigger than the average park and the lack of street lamps surrounding the area would have certainly made it easy for the unsub to sneak around at night. 
As he kept looking over the area, his eyes caught sight of you and the breath was knocked from his lungs. 
You have always loved animals, dogs in particular, and you have known since you were young that you wanted to be able to work with them when you were older. However, eight-year-old you never expected to look for dead bodies for a living, well you look for living people too. And technically you don’t do this for a living, you’re a veterinarian who happens to spend her time volunteering in search and rescue missions. 
The decision to start volunteering as a search dog handler came after a girl in your college went missing. Everything was okay and she was thankfully found unharmed but it was two days of your campus being crowded with search dogs. You talked to one of the officers about the job and after a few short minutes of conversation you were instantly hooked. Five years later and you cannot bring yourself to regret your choice. 
You remember when you got Ash, a gorgeous German Shepard, after your first training session. He was only three months old and the perfect age to start his training. It required you to spend all of your free time playing hide and seek in your small, one bedroom apartment, which is not as fun as it sounds after a few weeks. 
In the end it was all worth it since you are able to help people and it got you a new best friend. 
You walk around the park with a tight hold on Ash’s leash. You got the call about fifteen minutes prior and you are thankful that it is your day off from the vet. You keep your eyes on your dog, making sure to look out for any change in his behavior that may indicate that he found something. 
The small hesitation in his step was enough to make you stop walking. He started rounding one of the trees, sniffing the ground before looking up at you and giving a loud bark. 
You call Hank, one of the members of the team that is carrying the shovel over. “I think we got something.” 
Your voice not only attracted the search team, but also three FBI agents. A few seconds later there was a small crowd gathered around you as Ash used his paws to help Hank dig the hole. Once the body has been uncovered you lead Ash away from the crowd, your hand going into the fanny pack strapped around your waist. 
“Good job,” you say as you kneel next to him. You hold out the treat and he excitedly licks it off your hand. You can’t stop the smile that comes on your face even though it’s not the most appropriate reaction considering the situation. You feel a pair of eyes on you and you look up to see one of the FBI agents staring at you. He looks embarrassed at getting caught and you wave him over. He does so cautiously, keeping his eyes on Ash. 
“Hi,” he says once he gets within speaking distance. You stand up and dust your hands on the fabric of your jeans. 
“Hey, you’re from the BAU right?” You already know that he’s from the BAU, your team leader having had told you so as soon as you arrived. But he’s cute and you need a way to start a conversation. 
“Yes. I’m Dr. Reid. Uh I mean Spencer…you don’t have to call me doctor.” He looks away bashfully and you smile, finding the blush creeping up his neck endearing. 
“Well Spencer, I’m y/n.” You introduce yourself. You notice that he hasn’t taken his eyes off of Ash, who is looking up at you as if waiting for you to introduce him. “Everything okay?” 
“What? Oh yeah it’s just that dogs don’t particularly enjoy my presence. They actually kinda resent it.” He says it so casually and you are sure that this isn’t the first time he’s had to say it. He looks just about ready to run away if the need arises and he does look a tad surprised to see that Ash isn’t attacking him already. 
“Nonsense. Ash is a sweetheart and loves meeting new people. Come on,” you gesture for him to come closer with your hand. What you say is true, however Ash does look a little more vigilant than he usually does, as if he senses a threat in the FBI agent but won’t act upon it without your command. You don’t comment on it though, assuming this will only make Spencer more hesitant. Spencer approaches slowly, afraid that the dog will start barking at him. Once he’s standing next to you, you hear him audibly gulp. “Hold out your hand.” He does as you say, placing his hand out in front of him and toward Ash. 
Ash looks at you for confirmation and at the small nod of your head he leans forward, sniffing the stranger’s hand. Spencer looks completely terrified of the situation and after a few seconds, Ash leans back. Spencer is about to retreat his hand but you stop him, knowing that everything is riding on Ash’s next move. Ash lifts his left paw off the ground and places it on top of Spencer’s hand, barking once and you let out a relived sigh. If he had refused to shake Spencer’s hand and barked twice, it would have been a done deal, because even though you are attracted to him, if Ash disproves then it can’t happen. 
You smile and nudge Spencer slightly. “See, you just got the Ash stamp of approval.” The laugh that leaves his lips makes your heart flutter and you scold yourself. You just met him, get it together. 
You see the grimace on his face once Ash removes his paw and leaves a good amount of dirt on his hand. You reach into the fanny pack and take out a small pack of wipes and a small bottle of hand sanitizer, always prepared. He looks grateful at the items, immediately taking a wipe and running it against his palm. Once he’s done he turns back to look at you. Ash has settled down at your feet, happily wagging his tail and sniffing Spencer’s shoes. 
“Does this stamp of approval allow me to ask for your number?” He asks it so casually and it is such a contrast from the shy man a few second before that it takes you completely by surprise. It takes a second for your brain to properly process the question and now you are the one stuttering. Once it catches up, you turn to him with a grin. 
“Definitely.” You grab your phone from your pocket and hand it to him and he does the same, both of you typing your contact information. You stare at each other with matching grins but are inevitably broken out of your daze by a voice calling out for Spencer. 
“Reid, Hotch wants us back at the BAU. You can flirt with the pretty dog handler later.” The dark skinned agent yells across the park.
Spencer blushes furiously and turns back to you, barely stuttering out, “I have to go.” 
You nod your head in understanding. “I’ll talk to you later Spencer.” 
“Definitely.” You are pleasantly surprised when he leans down and pets Ash a couple times. “Bye Ash.” 
You keep looking at him as he walks away, too distracted to notice the new presence beside you. 
“Got a date?” Hank asks. 
You shove his shoulder, trying to feign annoyance but the large smile on your face betrays you. “Shut up.” Ash barks up at you, seemingly wanting to join in on the teasing and Hank laughs, lowering his hand to high five Ash. “I hate both of you,” you reply with a frown. 
Your façade breaks when your phone chimes with a new notification. You grin at the screen, the text sending butterflies to your stomach. 
Want to get coffee on Saturday? 
Tilting your phone away from the prying eyes of your team leader and furry friend, you type out a reply. 
It’s a date
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the-bau-quinjet · 4 years ago
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Nice to meet you, where you been?
Chapter 2 of In Breakable Heaven!
Summary: Reader becomes acquainted with some members of the BAU.
Warnings: none that I can think of!
Word Count: ~1900
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Penny came back out to the foyer, handing you the oversized t-shirt and shorts you left here last time you slept over. You pulled them on quickly, following Penny to the living room where you instantly realized, it was more than just you, Penny, and the tall man in the apartment. You stopped moving as you took in the additional new faces. You had never met Penny’s team before, but she had talked about them a ton. You blushed again thinking of how you must look a mess right now.
“Everyone, this is Y/N! She is my very best friend and she is very sad so we are going to cheer her up.” Penny started the introductions. “Y/N, this is Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau aka JJ, and Emily Prentiss.” You took in the names as Penny went around the room. Eyes bouncing between a very muscular bald man and two of the most attractive women you’ve ever seen. “Oh, and for a more formal introduction, this is Dr. Spencer Reid, although you two met at the door.” Your eyes attempted to meet his again, but he was staring at the ground. You couldn’t help the whisper that escaped your lips “Doctor.”
 Either the profilers didn’t hear it, or chose to ignore it, along with the blush forming on your cheeks yet again. You looked around the room again and couldn’t stop yourself from speaking your thoughts. “God, is it a requirement to be hot as hell to work for the FBI?” Everyone laughed as you threw your hand over your mouth, eyes widening. “Oh God. That’s embarrassing. It’s true though, what a good looking team.” That earned more laughter form the group.
  It was clear they were all wondering why you had just sobbed into their coworkers adorable sweater vest. You waited a beat hoping someone would say something. But since they were all staring at you, and you hate awkward silences, you couldn’t help but blurt out “today was my 3 year anniversary with my boyfriend,” Not noticing the slight frown appear on Spencer’s face, you continued “but I went over to his place and found him in bed with another woman. So now I am very drunk.” Their faces all softened, offering slight words of encouragement as you sunk into the sofa and picked up the bottle of white wine from the table. Not even bothering with a glass, you started drinking again. You drank nearly half the bottle before taking a breath.
 “Woah” you heard someone say, but honestly you didn’t know who. “Why don’t we play a game or something? Maybe switch to water so you don’t completely hate yourself tomorrow?” You realized it was JJ talking. “I am always down – hiccup – for a game. I must warn you, I am extremely competitive though. Plus, I don’t get hungover so I’ll be fine.” You looked at their disbelieving faces. “Fine” you muttered, annoyed at having to explain this again, “I’ll switch to water for a bit. But only because I want to win.”
 Penny went to get the cards, confirming your statement “Y/N is right ya know. She has never been hungover. I’ve seen her drink countless tequila shots, chase them each with a wine cooler and clean her entire apartment before 8 AM the next day.”
 “Impressive.” Derek smirked as he looked at you.
 “What can I say? It really boosts my productivity.” The room chuckled as the hot doctor chimed in.
 “Your liver is responsible for breaking down all the alcohol you consume into an enzyme called acetaldehyde, the toxin responsible for hangovers. Recent studies have shown about 23% of people are able to break down the acetaldehyde much faster resulting in little to no hangover symptoms. Whether or not you experience hangovers is based 45% on genetics.” You looked over to him, wildly impressed with the first words you’ve heard him say.
 “What’s the other 55% based on?” You asked, intrigued to finally know why you don’t actually experience hangovers. He looked surprised as he met your eyes for the first time since you entered the room.
 “It’s actually a mixture of volume of alcohol, water, and food consumption.” You chuckled as he said this.
 “Well, it must be genetics for me because there are a few times I remember making very bad choices…” You felt the thought slip away as Dr. Spencer Reid smiled at you.
 “How can she even do simple math right now? Based on the story she’s had 10 drinks in the last 3 hours?” Emily whispered to JJ and Derek. They exchanged glances as Penny finally sat back down with the cards.
 “What should we play?” She asked the room, but mostly you. You could already feel your competitive edge creeping in as you tore your eyes from Spencer’s to suggest one of your favorite group games. “Egyptian Rat Screw!” It should be especially fun since you were all drinking. Nobody seemed to know the game though, so you quickly explained the rules as you took the cards to shuffle and deal.
 “Remember, whoever gets all the cards wins. Slap sandwiches and doubles. Royals have the special rules we just talked about. If you slap and there’s nothing there, you have to put a card in the bottom of the pile.” You said as everyone got situated around the table unsure what to expect. “Ready?” you asked, a mischievous grin on your face.
 --
 After winning the first two games you couldn’t help but tease everyone “I am definitely the drunkest one here. I thought a group of FBI agents would have better reaction times!” You giggled as everyone laughed along with you. You dealt the cards into five piles, one for each agent. “No cards for you?” Derek asked. “Nope.” You popped the “p” as you took in their confused faces. “I’m going to start with no cards and see if I still win.” There was a clear competitive glint in your eyes, with a matching smirk.  They seemed disbelieving that you would pull out another win, but continued along with the game.
 You hadn’t even tried slapping the table until there was only Spencer and Derek left with cards. Emily, JJ, and Penelope were chatting aimlessly, having lost interest a few minutes ago. You sat up and stared at the ever growing pile of cards. The whole game was basically memorizing the order of cards, or at least the general timeline. You knew as soon as Derek played his jack, Spencer would follow with an identical card. As you spotted the first jack hit the pile, Derek taunted Spencer “Haha pretty boy, one chance to get a royal or I’m pulling in the big pile.” The two of them seemed to have forgotten that you could get back in the game. Spencer smiled as he flipped over what you knew to be a jack. It was clear from the smirk on his face he knew it was a jack as well. What he didn’t count on was your cat-like reflexes slapping the pile before he could finish laughing at Derek’s sad face.
 The two of them looked shocked as you picked up the cards, readying them for the next set of flipping. “Damn girl, I thought you forgot how to play.” Derek laughed at the smug grin you were wearing. He only had two cards left. Easily knocking Derek from the game, he joined the side conversation being had in the kitchen as he resigned to another round lost. You turned to Spencer, almost whispering “Looks like it’s just you and me, Doctor.” Spencer looked up from his cards stating, “you sound pretty confident considering your opponent has an eidetic memory and knows the exact order of both our hands.” You stuck your tongue out as you placed your first card. “Not fair.”
 Minutes passed as the game drew on, neither player really making an advance. You yawned as you flipped another card onto the table, losing focus for just a second. Reid recognized the pattern emerging, getting ready to slap after your next card. You forgot to look at the potential for a sandwich, playing your next card. You noticed it a second to late as you slapped your hand down. Spencer beat you too it though, and when your hand landed it was on top of his. You didn’t move at first, shocked to have lost so many cards at once. Spencer was gloating as you picked up his hand and put it on top of yours.
 He finally looked down to see you pulling the cards toward you before jumping up to get them back. You held the cards close to your heart, faking the offense you felt at his suggestion that you would cheat, despite your very obvious cheating. When he reached for the cards, you backed up into the couch, holding them above your head. He knelt over you, leaning forward to reach your outstretched hand, forgetting for just a second that he really didn’t know you at all and being this close should make him uncomfortable.
 You shrieked as he tickled your sides to pull the cards in. He was gloating yet again as he pulled them from your grasp, not realizing how close the two of you had become. The two of you froze yet again as you felt that same magnetic force as earlier pulling you closer as you looked into his eyes. He cleared his through as he sat up, returning to his seat to finish the game. 
The two of you continued the game until you only had a few cards left. “It appears as though your winning streak is quickly coming to an end.” Spencer joked with you, playing a queen. He was clearly trying to ease whatever tension was lingering from your couch experience. You glanced at the cards in the middle of the table. It must have been 45 cards in the pile. You switched tactics to playing the cards as quick as possible to prevent another mistake.
A queen meant playing two cards in a row. You knew you had two sevens in a row in your hand, so you were ready to take him down. You glanced up stating “Rule 1: The Doctor lies.” You stated matter-of-factly as you flipped over your first seven. “Oh, and don’t blink.” You said, playing the second and slapping it before he finished comprehending your two Doctor Who references. You just had an instinctual feeling that Doctor Who would distract him.
 You finished the game with relative ease as the others made their way back into the room. You celebrated as you took the rest of his cards, completing the game and adding another tally to the mental scoreboard you had in your head. As everyone sat back down, you put the cards away. It was now 12:30 in the morning and suddenly you were exhausted. You rose from your seat, putting your coat back on your shoulders. “I should go home” you said, earning stares from everyone.
 “You are completely welcome to stay the night here!” Penelope said as you continued preparing to leave.
 “Thank you, Penelope, but I already feel so much better.” You chanced a glance at Spencer to see him staring right back. “I want to go home and lay in my bed and throw all his stuff out the window. Plus I could really use some fresh air right now.” Everyone started to verbally object now. Sometimes you forgot what Penelope does for a living and how much she’s seen. “No really, I’ll be fine.” You continued, “I live in The City Block, it’s only half a mile from here!” This did nothing to satisfy the worried looks on the five faces staring back at you.
 “That’s on the way to my building.” Spencer stated. “I’ll walk with you, okay?” You looked up, surprised. Slowly a small smile appeared on your face. “Okay.” Somehow that was all you could manage. Everyone said their goodbyes as you and Spencer made your way out of the apartment and started walking down the street.
 tag list:
@mac99martin​ @eevee0722​ @l0ve-0f-my-life @haylaansmi @dinonuggets15
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berriusagi · 4 years ago
Text
Stomach Bug Ch10
Doctor’s Visit
Alright I am back with another chapter and with this I bring something special. I want all of you to help me decide what our lovely Mari will be having so place your votes in the poll. 
LINK REMOVED
Thank you to everyone who voted I’ll be using the results gathered and I hope everyone’s happy with what the final tally was.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
“Damian’s not home right?” Tim asked, making his way into the Batcave where all the other bats sans Damian were sitting around the computer.
“No, tomorrow’s pixies first appointment with that new doctor so he decided to stay the night to give her moral support since she’s never been to a gyno before.” Jason said looking up from the files he was reading over, “honestly from what I’ve heard about what happens during those exams I don’t blame her for wanting a little support before going.”
“It’s all routine and can’t be any worse than the baby-making process.” Dick hummed typing away on the computer.
“I think that’s enough talk about that; why did you want to know Tim?” Bruce asked looking over at his second youngest.
“I found more info on Marinette thought I’d share with you all while Damian wasn’t here to stop me or compromise the data,” he explained walking over to the bat computer connecting his laptop to it.
The other men all sat silently around waiting for Tim to begin his presentation as he sorted through different encrypted files before bringing up a few pictures. “To begin her original name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng and her parents were bakers back in France, Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng,” Tim said pointing them out.
“Marinette told me they essentially kicked her out,” Bruce said crossing his arms, “They believed the words of some liar and threw her out. She lived with a friend her last year in Paris before moving here.”
“Wait, hold on,” Dick said turning to Bruce, “Her parents kicked her out when she was still a minor? Isn’t that illegal?”
“Yes, and they knew that, she mentioned that when she told her grandmother she came and took custody from her parents, who seemed more than happy to hand it over, and let her stay to finish out that school year with a friend then moved here to finish out her schooling.” Bruce nodded.
“Yeah that all tracks to what I found,” Tim nodded, showing them documents next, “I have here the transfer of custody, her transcript for moving here, as well as the adoption papers for Ivy and Harley. I also went ahead and started running some background checks on the people still in her phone.” he added typing away.
“Anyone, we should be worried about?” Jason asked leaning back in his seat content to just watching Tim work, “She told me a bit about one of her friends’ guy seemed a bit sketch when he was a Paris hero though now I think he’s meh but never got a name from her.”
“You said he was one of the heroes?” Tim asked looking over at Jason.
“Yeah, she said he gave up his miraculous after the fight because his dad was the villain and he didn’t think Ladybug would want anything to do with him if she found out who he was so he bit the bullet and gave it up. He left Paris shortly after to live with his aunt.” Jason said looking around at the others.
“If the villain were outed then it’d be easy to find out who his son was,” Tim said, turning back to the computer the clicking of keys filling the Batcave as he searched through multiple French websites. The other three just watched as screen after screen flew by before settling on a trashy tabloid-like website.
“I don’t think this is what could be considered a credible source Timmy,” Dick winced looking over all the clickbait titles and the like to dislike ratio on the articles.
“No, but it does have quite a bit on the Paris heroes,” Tim said scrolling through to articles that had more likes and seemed of better quality, “here we go, Hawkmoth Defeated: How a Recluse Held Paris Hostage.”
The four men all leaned forward reading through the article that detailed the final battle between Hawkmoth and the Paris Heroes with a written description of what happened as well as a video that seemed to have been taken from a mix of sources and spliced together. The article detailed what Hawkmoth had been doing for three years and in the end, revealed him and his accomplice to be Gabriel Agrest and his assistant Nathalie Sancoeur.
“So we know that Gabriel Agrest was the big bad so who was his kid?” Jason asked as Tim typed away.
“Adrien Agrest, teen model for the Agrest Fashion Label. Looks like after his dad got taken down he had to go through months of interrogations and court hearings just to prove his innocence. His mother was found dead in the Agrest Mansion and with no one else it looks like his aunt took him in once he was cleared.” Tim said reading through the files he dug up.
“That would mean he probably gave his miraculous to Pixie right after he was cleared. If he was going to do something sketch he’d just hold onto it.” Jason said.
“He probably was so messed up after the battle he didn’t want any connection to the miraculous I mean his father turned evil because of them.” Dick hummed crossing his arms.
The four fell silent as they took in the information they had received, “Well Tim you got anything on that liar?” Jason asked, tilting his head.
“This whole blog is about that liar.�� Tim said motioning to the tabloid, “I’ll email you guys the link and read it at your own pace there is years of garbage on here.”
“Then with that, I think we should all be heading out. We'll go over more of what Tim found later for now we should get to work,” Bruce said, getting to his feet and moving to change into his costume.
The other three nodded as Tim packed up his laptop and stored it away before they all got dressed and took their way out of the cave to begin their nightly rounds.
~.~.~.~
“So what do you think they found?” Marinette asked cuddled up to Damian's side on her bed with the hyenas crowded around them on either side resting their heads over their laps, “Chloe didn’t exactly hold back on mentioning certain names.”
“I would be surprised if Drake didn’t have an entire dossier on all your friends.” Damian said rubbing Marinette’s back, “You know he probably took all your contact info right?”
“Yeah oh well,” she shrugged turning to bury her face into his neck, “They were bound to find out eventually, might as well let some of the greatest detectives around have some fun piecing my life together.”
Damian hummed closing his eyes as he relaxed back into the plush pillows covering Marinette’s bed, “Are you nervous about tomorrow?” he asked.
“A little,” she sighed tightening her grip on his shirt, “Mum told me what to expect and said she’d sit in the room with me if I wanted her to, you can’t exactly join me since we can’t have this whole thing getting out.”
“I’ll be waiting here for you when you get home don’t worry,” he said kissing her forehead, “now try to get some sleep you barely got any at the manor.”
Marinette nodded letting out a deep sigh as she shifted around to get comfortable between Damian and the hyenas. Eventually, she settled down and dozed off into a dreamless sleep with Damian rubbing her back and the familiar weight of Bud’s head on her hip.
Damian stayed up for a bit longer listening to the quiet sounds around and thinking over what to do for the next day. He eventually made his way into a dreamless sleep as well a bit after one AM when he finally managed to shut his mind off.
~.~.~.~
“Marigold are you ready?” Ivy called from the kitchen as she looked through her back to make sure she had everything.
“Almost,” Marinette said, coming out in a comfortable knit sweater and skinny jeans, “I was looking for my purse. I think Lou took it,” she said, looking around in the usual spots for her bag.
“I’ll keep your wallet and Tiki in my bag we have to get going,” Ivy said, grabbing Marinette’s wallet off the counter and stowing it in her bag as Tiki flew over and settled into the bag as well giving Ivy a nod to close the bag once she was comfortable.
Marinette nodded and went back to her room grabbing her phone quickly checking it before putting it away in her pocket and leaned down kissing Damian’s cheek as he groaned slowly blinking his eyes open. “I’m leaving I’ll text you when we’re on our way back.”
“Okay habibti call me if you need me.” he yawned reaching up and pulled her down for a kiss, “good luck with your appointment I’ll see you after.”
Marinette nodded kissing him again as Ivy shouted for Marinette that they were leaving. She gave Damian another quick peck on the lips before pulling back and ran out to meet Ivy at the door. “Had to get my phone.” she smiled stepping out of the apartment and waited as Ivy locked up and ushered down to the cab waiting outside.
“Now remember Marigold just relax and everything will go smoothly, it will be uncomfortable but it won’t hurt okay.” Ivy said, settling into the cab beside Marinette and rubbing her back, “I can sit inside the room with you if need me to.”
“I think I’ll be okay,” Marinette said, taking a few calming breaths as they made their way to the doctor’s office. Once they arrived Marinette was starting to look a little green as they went through the check-in process and filled out their info.
Waiting for her name to be called felt like an eternity and her stomach was twisting into knots as she watched other women come and go through the office. Marinette sat there twisting her fingers in her sweater and took slow deep breaths trying to calm herself when the door opened, “Marinette?” a nurse called.
Marinette shot up her face going from pale to a deep red as she made her way to the nurse. The nurse smiled and ushered her inside and went about getting her blood pressure, “Hmm little elevated but I think it could just be your nerves.” the nurse smiled, and her height and weight.
“Alright girly so here’s your room I’m going to need you to completely strip down underwear and all then put this paper gown on opening to the front and here’s a privacy blanket for your legs.” the nurse said motioning to the items on the bed, “the doctor will be in here shortly.”
Marinette nodded as the nurse closed the door leaving her alone, “It’s just a check-up.” Marinette mumbled undressing and taking her time to carefully fold her clothes and set them on the table in the corner of the room. She put on the provided gown and settled on the table keeping her phone clenched tightly in her hand as she waited for the doctor to arrive.
It felt like an eternity when there was a knock at the door and the doctor stepped in, a petite redhead with a smattering of freckles covering her pale face, “Hello Miss Marinette I’m Doctor Amelia.” she smiled coming over to shake Marinette’s hand, “I see you’re here for a wellness exam and you’re expecting.”
“Uh yes,” Marinette coughed her voice, cracking a bit from her nerves, “I uh just found out a few weeks ago.” she blushed, gripping the paper blanket covering her legs.
Doctor Amelia nodded looking over the file, “This is your first-ever wellness exam yes?” she asked, taking a seat.
Marinette nodded keeping her head bowed trying to not let her nerves take over her.
“Okay sweetie we’ll go at your pace so just relax okay.” Doctor Amelia smiled setting the file aside and grabbed her stethoscope.
~.~.~.~
The entire exam didn’t take more than five minutes before the doctor was cleaning up and stepping out to give Marinette some privacy to redress. Marinette wasted no time pulling her clothes back on and sending Damian a text saying, ‘Making this baby was less violating than that.’ before putting her phone in her pocket as there was another knock, “Miss Marinette if you're ready you can go to the front and schedule the next appointment.” Doctor Amelia said through the door.
Marinette walked over opening the door her face still a bit flushed, “Okay uh when should I come back next?” she asked.
“I think in a month should be enough time and we should be able to hear the heartbeat by then.” she smiled, “Your moms waiting for you upfront, and here’s the card to one of my nurses if you have any questions feel free to call her okay.”
“Thank you.” Marinette nodded, taking the card and quickly went to the front to meet back up with Ivy and schedule the next appointment and made their way out to walk back home.
“I think we should pick up some breakfast.” Ivy smiled putting a hand on Marinette’s shoulder as they walked. “There’s a nice little bakery around the corner should we pick up something from there?”
“Yeah, that sounds good.” Marinette nodded following Ivy down to the bakery and got in line looking over the different pastries they had for sale. Between the two of them, they picked out an array of sweet and savory options with Marinette making sure to pick out some vegetarian options for Damian. Soon they were walking out with two large bags and were walking down the street back to their home.
Upon entering both had to hold their bags of treats high out the reach of Bud and Lou trying hard to reach the goodies hidden away. Harley quickly came over pulling them back by their collars so the two could set the bags down in the kitchen.
Damian was settled at the table and got up coming over to help them unpack as Harley got some coffee and tea going as they all settled down to enjoy a bit of a late breakfast. Marinette ate her croissants and fruit danish taking small bites so as not to upset her stomach any further. The small group spoke of anything and everything as they enjoyed their meal. Harley taking the time to pick out the meat from her sandwich to give to the two hyenas and Damian holding a small conversation with Tiki as she munched on the cookies Marinette picked out.
“So when are you going back?” Harley asked looking over at Marinette as she bit into her bagel.
“In a month, the doctor said we should be able to hear the heartbeat by then,” Marinette said, finishing off her danish, “I don’t know if I’m ready.”
“You’ll be fine Marigold we’re here for you every step.” Ivy smiled ruffling her hair, “Now I think you should go lay down, maybe settle your stomach and your nerves. You were looking a bit green and tense after your appointment.”
Marinette nodded, finishing her tea and croissant before heading back to her room to lay down. Damian finished off his breakfast quickly and excused himself before following Marinette leaving the two sirens and the small goddess at the table.
“At least he’s good for our little Mari.” Harley hummed sipping her coffee, “So long as he makes her happy he can stick around I guess but not too sure I forgive him for knocking our baby up.”
“Oh, now you don’t like him?” Ivy chuckled, raising her eyebrow at her.
“Oh, I adore the kid but you know one of us has to give him the shovel talk eventually.” Harley chuckled getting up to clean the dishes and put the leftovers away.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
@myazael @beautiful-disasters-sunshine @moonlightstar64 @moonlitceleste @stainedglassm  @casual-darkness @mochegato @ultimatetornshipper @heemsanddamemes @nathleigh @qualitypeacepainter @raven-frost-21 @maskedpainter @demonicbusiness @dood-space @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @indecisive-mess-named-me @changelinggarden @zerotosiki @alysrose-starchild @s-and-n @wolf2118 @athena452 @jjmjjktth @eliza-bich @solangelo252 @icerosecrystal @heinrode @Junarvion
@babylovebug18 @animegirlweeb @corporeal-terrestrial
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mxvladdy · 3 years ago
Text
Expectant
Wrote this a while back b4 I had tumblr and I like it. So I shall share :*
Contains: Pregnancy talk and fluff
“No.” His voice is clear, carrying with it an air of finality. You pout stomping a foot in a petulant rage, pain shoots up your swollen ankle at the motion causing you to titter. You try to hide your wince knowing it will only prove his point. Your husband notices anyway. Wordlessly he moves quickly to pick you up in his strong arms carrying your stubble self back to bed.
“Anata.” You squirm trying to break out of his hold, not ready to give in. “Anata!” You try again looking up at his hardened gaze. He ignores you, his jaw clenching tight, his eyes look straight ahead as he carries you through the maze of hallways. Servants bow out of his way as he approaches your shared quarters. You flush, seeing glimpses of smiles on the passing servant's lips. “Hanzo!” You shout, finally grabbing his face forcing him to meet your gaze. Stormy chocolate eyes meeting yours. You can see the dragons stirring beneath them flickering and flashing making them appear blue briefly. The cool collected look barely contains the sea of emotions brewing beneath the surface. “I am your spouse!” You growl.
“And you are with child.” He rebuttals matching your tone nodding at the guard stationed outside your chambers. She bows low, opening the door swiftly before closing it behind you both with a sharp ‘click’. You glower at the door where she no doubt stood guard agitated by the small smirk she failed to hide. “With my-our child no less.” Hanzo continues unfazed. He deposits you on the soft feather down padding of the bed. Evading your pleading looks he tucks you in, elevating your swollen ankle on a stack of pillows before turning away to finish getting ready.
You wanted-needed to be at this meeting. Overwatch was a snake, shifty and untrustworthy. For years now they have been encroaching on Shimada territory, delaying shipments and arresting higher-ups. Your husband and council have been fighting them at every turn, giving as good as they got. You knew your husband well and for as cunning as he was this game was getting boring. It has been getting messier and messier on both sides of late. Plus, bastards almost ruined your wedding day.
Still not over that, and now they wanted a trade agreement? The hypocrisy.
“I’m not useless.” You start again from your nest of pillows watching the scion disrobe, changing into his favorite three-piece.
Hanzo sighs, rolling his neck preparing for round two. “Beloved-” He starts pleading. “I know, but this negotiation could be dangerous. I will give them no leverage over my family. Any information they collect could be used against us, including you.” Hanzo turns, fixing you with a hard look. “If you were in good health perhaps I would have had you by my side. But funnily enough, your doctor sought me out this morning.”
Uh oh. You pull the covers up to your chin, tucking yourself further down under the blankets knowing what was coming next. “Low blood sugar, mild anemia, nausea, dehydration, skipping meals.” He stalks forward ticking off each thing with a gloved finger. His chin tilts high, looking down at his pray, his full draconic aura radiating from his stance. He tugs the silken sheets from you scooting close. “To neglect your health like this is irresponsible, my love.” He cups your face tenderly, a faint smile growing on his own. He prayed his child would be as tenacious and strong-willed as their mother.
“But the clan-” He cuts you off with a soft worn leather glove, the black leather stroking along your cheek.
“You have gone above and beyond for the elders and the clan. But I need this- I need to know you are safe and resting.” He rose, straightening his tie. “I have agreed with the doctor that starting today you are on mandatory bed rest.”
“What!” You jerk away from his sweet caresses throwing the blankets away making to get out of bed.
“Do not argue with me on this please,” He pushes you back down on the pillows with a soft but firm hand. “I cannot risk losing you nor our child to the petty infighting of a bunch of war-torn fools.” His hand trails down your arm to rest on your swollen belly smiling at the tiny movements within. “I promise I have taken every precaution for this. I even got Genji to join the meetings. By the grace of the Gods perhaps he will help the negotiations.” You laugh weakly at the little jab thrown towards his sibling, it lessens the panic knotting in your chest. The brothers, when together made magic happen.
Still... This would be the first time you wouldn’t be able to be at his side since joining the family. “Promise?” You relent, seeing no way out of this. You place your hand on top of his, placing it on your growing stomach, rubbing your thumb in comforting circles on his broad palm.
Hanzo huffs in amusement at your pout before leaning over to press a kiss to your temple. “Always.”
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refuge-au · 3 years ago
Note
>Open the Doctor’s File
Doc: Receive an Invitation
The conference room was small and sparsely decorated, little more than a round table and a handful of chairs in an empty room. The walls were bare, the table empty, and the window that looked out into the hallways covered by blinds.
The window that looked out onto the street, to the east, may as well have been covered too. The only thing visible when you looked out was the greyish hue of smog.
Doc sat in the chair closest to the door on the east side of the table. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his feet were up on the table. He knew his attempt at nonchalance wasn’t fooling anybody, but it didn’t hurt to try.
Etho sat to his right, leaned over the table and absently spinning a rubix cube in his hands. Every so often he’d scramble it and then solve it quickly afterward, seeming slightly disappointed. His left eye was covered in a plain black eyepatch that wasn’t quite big enough to cover the extent of the scarring.
Bdubs sat on Etho’s other side, the drumming of his fingers on the table and the way his eyes flickered from one side of the room to the other every couple of seconds the only things betraying the amount of nervous energy contained inside him.
Beef sat in the last chair on their side of the table, staring at the covered interior window as if he could see through the blinds and into the hallways behind it. His face was expressionless, apparently lost in thought.
No one spoke.
It was the kind of silence they had sat in many times before- part comfort, of being around people who know you better than almost anyone else in the world, and part anxious anticipation. None of them knew exactly what was going to come next.
They had been contacted individually a week or two ago, letters that had no return address slipped under doors or through mail slots. What usually would have been some sort of threat or insult turned out to be a job interview opportunity.
Come to a certain building two weeks from now, the letters read. Tell the receptionist that you’re looking for refuge. Someone will be in to see you shortly.
The most paranoid of the group (Beef) had found out that it was sent by some sort of government official or organization before he contacted the rest of the group to see if they had received the same summons. After a brief discussion, a decision was reached. They would hear out whoever wanted to talk to them.
If things went down badly… as long as they were together they would be able to fight their way out.
Most of the invitation had been true. They found the correct address, and were taken to a room when they asked for refuge… but the person that they were waiting for had not come shortly. It felt like they had been waiting for an eternity- even though his internal clock told him it had only been about twenty minutes.
Ten more minutes, he decided, and then he would leave. If whoever the hell wanted to talk to them was going to be late, they should have told the receptionist to tell them or something. It was basic human decency- although admittedly that did seem to be in short supply these days.
The door handle turned with a click, and four pairs of eyes locked onto it immediately. There was a moment of nothing, and then the door swung open, letting a relatively tall brunette man into the room.
His hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, all brown except for a single streak of white from a large x-shaped scar that stretched across most of his face. It was an old scar, very faded, the chunks of white in his hair and his beard some of the only things left to prove that it was there.
He looked slightly winded as he smiled, shutting the door behind him. “Hello, gentlemen. Sorry about the wait. There was a bit of a… conflict. Downstairs, and I ended up having to sort it out.”
He walked over to the table pulling off his gloves and unwrapping his respirator from around his neck before sitting down across from Etho and folding his hands together. “So. You all actually came.”
“Did you expect us not to?” Beef asked, eyeing him warily, apparently not recognizing him.
“Of course not! A government official contacting you out of nowhere, asking you to come and meet them? The fact that you have enough faith in humanity to come here, despite everything, without knowing anything about why you’re being asked here… it’s amazing.” He grinned.
“Amazing is one word for it, sure.” Bdubs said, leaning forward in his chair. “But uh, who are you, and why exactly are we here?”
“If you’re going to try to kill us, we’ll give you a thirty second head start.” Doc added dryly. “But no more than that.”
The man chuckled. “We’re not trying to kill you, we’re trying to offer you a job.”
A job?
Before Doc could express his hesitation, the man continued, putting a hand to his chest:
“My name is Xisuma Void, Captain Void to most people, but you can call me X. I’m putting together a crew.”
“Like a boat crew?” Bdubs asked, brow furrowing slightly.
“A spaceship crew. I’ve been given a mission- go to uncharted territory, chart it, and start a colony on a planet outside the solar system.” He extended his hands in front of him, gesturing to the team. “I’d like you to come with me.”
For a moment, there was silence.
“…What’s the catch?” Etho asked slowly.
“Catch?” Xisuma asked.
“We’re not from here.” Etho said, and Beef chuckled. “There’s always a catch.”
Xisuma shook his head slowly. “I don’t think… well… how about I just tell you what the job would entail before we decide if there’s a catch or not?”
Doc looked across the table to the others. Bdubs nodded, Beef shrugged, and Etho set down the rubix cube for the first time since he had gotten into the room. X took that as permission to continue.
“Do you remember all those stories in the news about the government funneling money into a secret project?” X asked.
“And everybody was worried that it was gonna be another war.” Bdubs said. “We remember.”
“They were building a ship for this mission. It’s been in progress for years now, but they’ve ramped up construction in the past several months. The ship will be fully built in three months, and the mission will begin no sooner than six months from now.” Xisuma stood, either ignoring or not noticing the way that the rest of the group tensed when he moved, and began to pace up and down the length of the table. “The ship- the Refuge- will exit the solar system in about one and a half years, and then it’ll be four and a half to eight and a half years til we reach Haven.”
“Haven?” Doc interjected. “That’s the planet?”
X nodded.
“Bit on the nose, don’t you think?” Bdubs asked.
X shrugged, not pausing in his pacing. “I wasn’t the one that named it.”
“So what do you want us to do?” Beef asked. “None of us have ever been to space before. Sure, Etho may have been… built for it, but…”
“You don’t have to worry about the space stuff.” X said, stopping and leaning on the back of the chair he had been sitting in. “Just the landing part of the mission. The way that this is set up, there are two smaller groups within the crew as a whole- the ship crew and the colony crew. While the ship crew will transition into being a part of the colony crew once we land, the colony crew doesn’t have to be a part ship crew. It’s unnecessary, and most of the crew mates don’t have essential skills for the trip.”
“So what does the colony crew do during the flight?” Beef asked, his brow furrowed.
“Sleep.” X responded. “We have two cryogeneticists on the crew that will be maintaining and caring for frozen personnel and assets.”
“Which one would we be?” Doc asked.
X looked uncomfortable, as if he didn’t know whether the question was a joke or not. “Personnel… in total, if you decide to take me up on the offer, we’ll have nine people frozen out of a crew of thirty six. Most of the ship can be run mechanically, but we still need the ship crew to oversee everything.”
“And what would we be doing when we get planet-side? What’s our actual job going to be?” Bdubs asked.
“Building, scouting surrounding areas, neutralizing any potential threats, whatever needs to be done, really.” X sighed. “Unfortunately, since a mission like this has never been attempted before, I can’t tell you exactly what we’re going to need you to do. If you accept, I can give you the paperwork that runs through several potential scenarios, but… there’s a lot that we just don’t know.”
“I’m not going to ask you to sign on immediately, but I’d like your responses as soon as possible.” X concluded. “There’s a packet with the receptionist downstairs that has more information-“
“I’ll do it.” Bdubs said, cutting him off.
X blinked. “What?”
“I’ll do it.” He repeated, leaning back in his chair. “It sounds exciting, it’s a chance to travel somewhere without risking being carsick, it’s getting away from everything that’s going on here… and we’re probably not gonna get another chance at this for at least six years, right?”
X nodded.
“I can’t speak for the guys, obviously, but you’ve got one.”
“I’m in too.” Doc decided, taking his feet off the table and sitting up straight. “There’s not a whole hell of a lot for me to do here, not many people that want me here, and somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t get yourself killed.” He said, pointing a vaguel accusatory finger at Bdubs, who rolled his eyes. “I still want the packet, but I’m in.”
X grinned. “Wonderful! And… I suppose, do you want to make your decision now too?” He turned his attention to Beef and Etho.
“I’ll agree… but I reserve the right to change my mind if we start getting ready and things seem off.” Etho said, picking his rubix cube back up and spinning it on its corner. “I may have been made for space travel, but they kept me grounded for a reason.”
“I agree with Etho, minus the spaceman bit.” Beef said. “Also, can we have your phone number, or some way to contact you?”
Xisuma’s grin turned into a softer, warmer smile. “Everything that you’ll need is going to be in the packets. Welcome to the team, gentlemen.”
Computer: Input Command: Show Available Files:
> Open the Pilot’s File
> Open the Doctor’s File (New)
> Continue
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