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vanilleandclove · 1 day ago

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how to disappear; jack abbot x f!trauma surgeon!reader

pittsburgh is roughly 58 square miles, large hospitals in metropolitans are usually 1.2 million square feet. only making ptmc extremely confining with a certain trauma surgeon and senior attending physician in the emergency room especially during hostility.

warnings: emotionally constipated adults, language, talks of children and marriage, semi-medical accuracies (i have several immediate family members in the medical field, this is basically in my regular lexicon), gore adjacent, mentions of past sex, age gap: reader is 30-33, jack is 47-49. word count: 4.1k notes: mdni. call me disorganized, my oc fic is on HOLD, until further notice :3. this is part one of two (?) ask/requests are open!

“I thought you were working day shift?” Parker asked, your eyes blinked roughly as they adjusted to the bright light of the patient’s board, “What’re you doing stuck down here?”.

“They requested for me to have a change of schedule to be on-call, couldn’t say no to the generous pay raise” you responded, cocking your head slightly to meet eyes with Parker, “Plus night shift always gets the most carnage”.

“You’re sick, you know that?” Parker chuckled, fist meeting your shoulder playfully before she walked off.

Clipping on your hospital ID was muscle memory, both Heather and Robby referred to as “overworker’s disease”, you saw it as being stuck in the place for several years at a time.

You needed a vacation, sweaty hot sex, vodka, or weed; or maybe just all of those in that order. Your eyes were glossed over from the eyedrops you have administered before leaving Jack’s house, they did good to conceal the hours of crying and bloodshot eyes.

But Bridget saw through that puffiness and reoccurring sniffle that matched the pout of your lips, she knew you well like you were her own daughter. She knew your breathing patterns were shallow and uneven, the eyebags that became a more pigmented purple, the constant fiddling of your rings.

She knew you needed a break, a break in bed where you could cry it out and come back renewed with extra hours of sleep and extra takeout.

“Honey, are you okay?” Bridget inquired, taking off her glasses and tucking them in her scrub undershirt, “You seem out of it”.

Your eyes darted towards her and all you could give her was a nod as you became tight lipped, worried that if you unclench your jaw for a second you’d break. Nevertheless, Bridget smiled and rested her hand on yours, knowing all too well what happened to you.

What Bridget saw was your hair blown out but tucked up a tortoiseshell claw clip for it to be out of your way. She saw manicured short french tip nails, residue of black eyeliner in your waterline, hints of matte red lipstick that must have been taken off in a rush as it made your lips look as if they were bleeding. She saw gold bracelets of all different textures and patterns, rings stacked beautifully and meticulously, necklaces that would accentuate cleavage with the right dress, diamond earrings that twinkled when moving under the LED lights.

She saw a woman who had just got stood up.

“Good evening everybody”.

And she just stumbled upon the reason.

You closed your eyes and sighed under your breath.

Luckily being a different specialty department, you weren’t required to be given the gist of speeches by the physicians and nurses. Some may say it due to surgeons being “above”, you say it’s because of different structures in departments- you can learn just as much during rounds in the emergency room as you would post-op, if not, you’ll learn more. Therefore you were able to walk off into the bathroom.

You enjoyed your job, you were grateful for your job that led you to places you never thought you would be. You were grateful for the smiles, the laughter, the songs the patient requested to be played during surgery, the parents or loved ones that would hug you tight, and yes, the gore and carnage.

You were also grateful that it led you to Abbot. 23, you were fresh out of an internship in Massachusetts, then you wanted a change of scenery. By 26, frequent hookups at your respective places were a casual way to start, end, and continue a week; just in time for your residency to finish and your fellowship to be fast-tracked due your rotations in the emergency department and competency exams. Hookups turned to dating by your 27th birthday, months later, Jack’s house was basically yours too. Now, you’re the attending who’s trying her hardest to hold it all in because a man decided no more to the most constant thing in your chaotic life- in a chaotic profession.

You had put on a silk dress that flowed perfectly enough to accentuate your curves, you wore lingerie, black heels, and smelt fucking amazing. You shaved, you wore your expensive lotion you could only justify using on special occasions, you wore jewelry you’ve collected over the years and that Jack had given you. You went the whole 9 yards and more.

“Okay so what is it?” you asked, sighing in defeat and barefooted in the living room, “You don’t want to go out, don’t want to talk about something you know I care about. Fuck Jack, you don’t even look at me when you know this is important”.

“Sorry I didn’t know dinner reservations were imperative to having a conversation with you” Jack scoffed, stressed and unnerved, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Jesus christ just forget about dinner!” you raised your voice, your throat began to slowly burn, “I don’t care about dinner Jack. I care about being appreciated from my boyfriend when I put on a fucking dress and heels. I care about you walking into that door every morning and kissing me. I care about having sex and ordering fucking pizza” you ranted, your time was almost up as it crept closer to your shift.

“Do you want kids?” he blurted.

“What?”.

“Do. you. want kids?”.

You blinked in confusion, swallowing whatever you had planned to say and again to collect what he had just proposed. “I would like to have kids but with my job and yours, that seems unlikely. I don’t mind not having them”.

“There was a positive test in the trash two weeks ago that you didn’t think to tell me about” he cleared his throat.

Your brows furrowed, “It was a false positive, Heather did a work up with full labs for me” you looked to the ground not noting that it would’ve also been nice for him to know both of those things. “If a pregnancy test is sending you to avoid me like the plague; we have a bigger issue here Jack”.

“It would’ve been nice to know that you were afraid you were pregnant that you told Collins before me”.

“Do you think I’m punishing you for withholding information that was irrelevant to me after a day?” you were shocked almost, still confused at the hostility, “I wasn’t afraid of being pregnant, I was afraid of false hope”.

“I don’t want kids, that’s just not something I see in my future”.

“Our future” your voice began to crack more and more. Kids weren’t a dealbreaker by any means, the way Jack worded it to be something exclusionary in regards to you is what broke you. “I need you to tell me if this is what’s causing you fucking hurt me”.

“It’s not- I just think we have a misconstrued view on the future of this” he pointed to both of you back and forth.

“Jack forget about the sheer possibility of kids, why are you being distant?” you took a step closer as he took a step back, the action only shattering your heart more, the tears began to flow as you straightened your back, “What about marriage?”.

“Same as kids”.

You nodded, looking away from him, “I’m not going to change your opinions about either of those, I’m not going to try”. You inhaled before a sob erupted from your throat, “I have to be able to want those things without feeling like you’re going to walk away. God, you never once spoke about this before so why now? Why all of the sudden vows and kids are a dealbreaker when- if I remember this correctly- the past year you’ve been asking for baby names and what rings I would like? Was it just for show? Was I just for show?”.

“Of course you weren't,” he sighed yet again, his eyes piercing yours, “You’re you, I guarantee you’ll find someone else who wants both of those”.

“I don’t want someone else Jack” you whispered, one tone louder and you’ll be a wreck in front of him.

Silence creeped over the room and nothing but the shudder of your breath filled the room, “I guess this isn’t working” his own voice cracked as if his mind betrayed his actions. With that, years of your heart shattered.

“I guess not”.

Jack was the same guy who held your legs as they rested on his during football games. The guy who tied the strings of dresses and kissed your shoulder, who stared in awe while you did your makeup, baked and cooked with you, danced to his best effort with you. Watched ‘Game of Thrones’ and ‘House of the Dragon’ with you every sunday without fail, not shy of commentary.

He would fix your hair after sex, clean you up in the en-suite with warm water, would make your toes curl around his waist as an orgasm washed over you, would coax another orgasm out of you. He would massage your clit, knew exactly where your g-spot sat, made your breath hitch and your eyes roll back. He never pressured, only asked a near sixty times if you were okay and comfortable. He would never degrade you even if asked, the most he’d do would be spitting in your mouth and lightly choking you. Wasn’t shy about having his dog tags pulled or you wearing them, loved the twinkle in your eye every time his cock grazed the right spot. The man was a dog. If you forgot an undershirt under your scrubs, his cock would strain from the veins coating your breasts, the slightest graze would send him on a frenzy when you’d get home if both of you were up for it, loved the lingerie just as much as he loved you in pajamas and a worn out shirt from college.

The same guy that would squeeze the back of your neck to relieve your worries, text you mid-shift about your wedgie and would fix said wedgie in passing, would wash your hair and body. Would watch every movie and TV show with a thousand questions, stare idly at you during every get-together as you mingled on your own with Heather. Every Fourth of July he spent with you, he was at ease, not jumpy or had his heart racing- you thanked therapy, he thanked you.

He’d stand in front of you and be the same guy during company basketball and baseball games that coached you on the sidelines, guided your arm, gave you water. You wanted to marry him, your parents always said when you do get married, it should be with someone like him if not him. You wanted rings, his and her matching towels, garter tosses and to take off his suit in the same night. He knew that, hell the whole emergency department was well aware of your dream wedding that changed every now and then.

Now you stand there beneath yourself because that is all gone on a random Wednesday. Didn’t wait for the weekend for it to settle, for hell to freeze over. While you went crazy thinking the worst, you had a job to do, and it was barely August.

Luckily, new staff and medical students were reserved for day shift, meaning you were secretly praying for both Robby and Collins sake.

“We have a male MVC victim, 10 minutes out, Abbot wanted you on standby” Parker opened the bathroom door only to be greeted with your meltdown, “You okay? Want water or coffee?”.

You shook your head only for her to fully allow herself in, “You and I both know the way you’re crying is going to lead you to dehydrate” she continued, “What happened?”.

“We broke up” you responded, curt and without remorse, “I don’t want to talk about it”.

“Okay, but just know you can always go home”.

“He’s home”.

You spent two minutes in there trying to gain your composure, worried that the MVC wouldn’t get the most accurate and resourceful amount of care with you like this. Splashing water against your face before exiting and being greeted with the beaming emergency department lights.

You checked up on three different patients, smiling and asking if they were comfortable and okay with waiting just in case the MVC took up more time than usual. As you left the last, the MVC arrived and both you and Abbot occupied opposite sides of the gurney.

The EMTs were able to stabilize him as much as they could, “Breath sounds are good so far a little too crackly but acceptable, there’s rigidity in his abdomen I need an chest scan to confirm bruising- I’ll call they always fast track me” you told Jack as you approached the trauma room, grabbing the phone as he took over, “Hey it’s Doctor L/n, I need a chest CT for a MVC victim, his abdomen is rigid and slightly distended with crackly breathing. No- I need you to take me up now, we’re already in a trauma room- okay, thank you see you there”.

Turning back to Jack, evening out the creases in your navy scrubs, “They’ll take him now, I’ll take him up” you whispered, grabbing a hold of the gurney from the bottom, “Can you open the doors?” you asked, “Get Walsh for me too, if it’s something with his abdomen I shouldn’t do exploratory”.

“You don’t only do exploratory surgery Y/n” Jack posed the statement as if you were undermining yourself for Walsh to be the scalpel junkie this shift.

“I know, Walsh is still learning the ways of being an attending, if anything I’m making sure she’s equipped to be in my stead when I’m not here” you argued back only for the MVC victim to regain his consciousness, “I know what I’m doing Doctor Abbot”.

“This morning it was babe, by the afternoon it was Jack, now it’s Doctor Abbot?” he queried, as if the whole ‘I guess this isn’t working’ bit was a skit.

“Last time I checked this wasn’t-“ you looked down to the gurney to see a conscious man with a smile on his face, “Good evening sir, I’m Doctor L/n, you’re at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center, I will be taking you up to CT now” you feigned a smile and eyed Jack, he knew that look.

The ‘we’ll talk about it later’ look.

“You’re in good hands sir” Jack waved off.

The elevator ride was calming, the tension in the trauma was thick enough to cut with a knife. You learned his name was Raymond Orser, he had a wife and a daughter, served a couple tours in the military, his sister lived in Pittsburgh while he lived in Philly.

“So, what was the deal between you and salt and pepper?” Raymond asked, his breathing less labored as you both exited out of the elevator.

“Salt and pepper? Doctor Abbot?”.

“Or babe whichever you prefer” Raymomd joked, “Must’ve been a tough fight, my wife and I were the poster board for marital arguments about silly things- one time after my daughter was born we argued about the way the cereal box closed”.

“He’s not my husband Mr. Orser, technically he’s just a colleague” you told him. Eyeing around you to see who was there, “We dated for 6 years today, it’s our anniversary, was supposed to wine and dine him before our shift but…”.

“Ah. You know, I’m only 39. I’ve spent a great deal of it loving my wife before I had even met her." You made a face that exuded confusion, “I know you’re looking at me crazy, but you just know. When’d you meet Doctor Abbot?”.

“When I was 23, about to be 24, he was also relatively new; he beat me by 3 years. Didn’t start dating until I was 27 and he was 41” you confessed, “What about you huh? How old is your daughter?”.

“She’s seven, had her after I got discharged. My wife and I had a shotgun wedding, very intimate”.

“Okay, we are just about to go into CT, I’ll be on the imaging side, you’re going to feel a little fluid in your IV, it’s to highlight and pinpoint what’s going on internally. I need to know if there’s any metal on you like jewelry below or above the waistline”.

“No, just my wedding ring”.

“That’s fine, this arm is going to stay up away from the imaging zone for the ‘highlighting fluid’, you’re going to feel a bit warm throughout your body, completely normal. If you feel nauseated it’s also pretty normal, we keep a wastebasket on standby so no worries” you clarified, giving him a smile before handing him off to the nurses.

Going into the radiology room, both the radiologist and technician glanced over to you, “Good evening” you greeted, “His abdomen was rigid and slightly distended, did Foreman tell either of you?”.

They both nodded, putting on their glasses and administering the contrast fluid. “Any plans for the morning L/n? You and Abbot are celebrating your anniversary today, no?” Jackie the radiologist asked, her hand not leaving the mouse and her eyes leaving the desktop.

You shuddered under your breath, inhaling deeply, “Yeah, might just stay in today”.

As the scans progressed one thing became clearer, there was a bleed in Raymond’s organs, non-septic, but still worrisome. You immediately grabbed the intercom mic, “Okay Ray, the nurses are going to get you settled back downstairs for a work up, I’ll go over your scans with Doctor Abbot”.

Turning to the left you grabbed the phone on the desk and dialed for the emergency department, “Hi Bridget, I’m sending Orser down, the MVC victim. He has a rib fracture that's causing internal bleeding, a tension pneumo but his breathing sounds were clear- lightly shallow” you cleared your throat, “Tell Abbot to do a finger thoracostomy, I’ll meet him down there”.

Afterwards you phoned the surgical wing, “Good evening, I need an OR available on standby, I have a MVC victim with a tension pneumothorax and internal bleeding”.

Some days cardio and general hogged the ORs, trauma and the emergency department always had an OR prepped in the morning shifts. Gloria liked to boast about her surgical teams, how each specialty had their own set OR.

Heading down to the emergency room, it was less chaotic on the surface- the waiting room said otherwise. Every room was filled minus the trauma rooms, the hallway had spillover, and curtains were drawn. You decided to take your leave to peds, being greeted with a little girl with a rattling cough.

“Good evening, I’m Doctor L/n, who is this princess?” you greeted, snapping on your gloves.

“Your scrubs are different” the girl mentioned mid cough.

“Sorry, this is Amanda, she’s been having this ugly cough for two weeks, she woke up choking on phlegm” a woman spoke up, “I’m her aunt, her mom’s on her way”.

“Ah okay, well, Amanda, my scrubs are different because I’m a surgeon here. Don’t worry, you’re not a surgical case, I just help down here” you clarified, putting your stethoscope on her chest, “Did she cough up phlegm, if so what color?”.

“It was brown, though in the car she had a cough attack and I swear I saw red”.

“Any history of asthma? Was she around any strong fumes?” you asked, “Amanda can you give me two big inhales and exhales?” you requested, putting your stethoscope on the girl’s back. As she inhaled and exhaled, all you heard was rattling.

“My sister- her mom has asthma, nothing too serious, she self carries though. Mandy got sick last week, her fever was moderate but she sweated a lot of it off during her sleep”.

You nodded, putting your stethoscope back around your neck, “I’m going to order a chest x-ray, from the sounds of it, Mandy here has acute bronchitis, probably from a viral infection that went unnoticed” you smiled to them both, “Is she allergic to paracetamol or ibuprofen?”.

“No, just soy”.

“Perfect, due to her age, I’ll prescribe extra strength Tylenol and an albuterol inhaler, two puffs about 5 seconds apart when needed to stabilize your lungs sweetie” you told her aunt, walking out to tell Bridget for an x-ray on Amanda.

“Abbot’s asking for you in south 14” Bridget said as you walked off, all you gave was a nod.

Opening the door and being met with a scene you would not have guessed to stumble upon out of the confines of your home. “Bridget said you wanted to see me?”.

“I’m not a prideful man” he sighed, you moved closer to the hospital bed he sat on, his prosthetic beside him, he was rubbing a cream on his stump- it smelt like eucalyptus. Jack never complained of phantom limb pain, though his hip would hurt every now and then. “But I do know that I am self-conscious”.

You remained silent, allowing Jack to speak. You did most of the talking earlier, now, it’s his turn. “I don’t know if I’ll be a good dad, weddings require some level of dancing that I just can’t put aside that difference to give to you- and I want to, I can’t shake that feeling” he sucked in a deep breath, “There are days where I have coax myself off the ledge, today being one of them”.

“Jack I-” you sighed in disbelief, “I don’t care about those things- ever- you’re not taking away anything by us not having kids or not getting married-”.

“You want those things”.

“There was a point in my life where I wanted you, one thing I know for certain, I never regretted it. Though I would’ve regretted not doing anything, you gave me the best sex of my life” you joked lightly, “If loving you and being with you means I don’t get a wedding or kids, then I’m okay with that. Though, you would be one hell of dilf”.

He chuckled at the comment, “Shit, I’d be in my 60s by the time the kid was in high school”.

“Still my sexy man” you commented, “I love you okay? But we have a job to get to and a vet who is keen on you”.

“Orser?” Jack questioned as he stood up with your assistance, popping his prosthetic back into place. You nodded, giving him a longing look, “I can’t kiss you- wouldn’t be able to stop”.

“Yeah yeah, happy anniversary cowboy” you smiled, feeling your phone vibrate with a page to the OR, “Shit, emergency surgery”.

“I love you cowgirl” Jack spoke up as you ran off. It was already 4:30 in the morning, the heat kept piling up.

The surgery was needed for a thoracotomy on a 67 year old who took a fall down her stairs which caused a cardiac tamponade, it took 2 hours and 40 minutes to repair, drain and control her hemorrhage. Caught early, it took less time than usual. You reeked of pungent acid with a hint of metal from the blood, afraid it was stuck in your hair.

Luckily your shift was over 10 minutes ago, you gathered your things and looked around for Jack, being greeted with Heather and Frank.

“Dana, have you seen Jack? Good morning to you all” you stretched, looking around to see no sight of Jack or Robby.

“Up on the roof with Robby”.

“Jesus, the midlife crisis twins” Frank joked under his breath, only to be met with the dirty looks of you and Heather.

“When he comes down tell him I’m in the truck” you sighed, tapping on the desk before letting your hair down from the clip that has held up your hair through blood and way too many body fluids.

dividers by @cafekitsune

#jack abbot #jack abbot x reader #jack abbot smut #jack abbot angst #the pitt #michael robinavitch #the pitt x reader #x reader #shawn hatosy #vanilleandclove

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thetxtdevil · 2 days ago

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Pediatric Surgeon *TXT's Anatomy*

Doctor!Soobin x Doctor!Reader

summary: Dr. Soobin requests your assistance on a case, prompting you to prepare for the surgery in a different type of way.

content: smut, hospital setting (if you don't like anything correlating to blood and anything medical don't read), descriptions of surgery, female reader, perv.reader, perv.dom.soobin, wet dream, degrading, mutual masturbation, panty fucking, fingering, panty stealing implied

word count: 2.7k

The early morning sun glowed with an orange hue through the hospital’s corridor windows as you stepped into the bustling building. The scent of antiseptic is thick in the air, yet with a deep breath, you take in a rich, comforting scent from the coffee shop built within the nook of the entrance. Like a moth to a flame, the roasted beans lead you to the cashier, ordering your mocha latte. As you pull your wallet out, a hand is roughly placed on top of yours, “Can I get an iced americano, and I’ll pay for hers too.” The warm, husky tone of the voice makes your head tilt your head up to see a man whom you unfortunately don’t see often, Choi Soobin, a Pediatric Surgeon. He shyly glances at you while taking back his credit card. A slight turn of his lips causes a cascade of his cute features to show, dimples indenting his blushed cheeks, pushing up his dark eyebags, which were almost covered by his thick-framed glasses. Irises that couldn’t help but glance down at your lips, which also turned into a smile. “Thank you.” The man opens his mouth to say something, but only a huff of air comes out. He avoids eye contact with you, hands reaching out for both freshly made coffees, handing one to you. “What? What is it?” You say walking with him up to the surgical floor.

Soobin sips his cold drink, his eyes jumping everywhere except you, deep in thought. “I-I bought your coffee to ask you something. Well, because I am a nice guy, but—” You quirk an eyebrow, watching him fidget with the fluffy texture of his coat, “I have this patient, and I want your opinion.”

You nod. “I’ll take a look after my rounds, is that okay?”

“That’s perfect. Thank you so much, Dr. y/l/n.” His eyes light up. Soobin was so respectful to you, even though he’s been in the field longer than you. You wondered if he was like this to every co-worker or just to you.

You situate the stethoscope around your neck and scan the patient list on your tablet. The digital clock above the nurses' station read 7:47 AM, it was getting to the time to check on your patients, as the nurses line up to give report, and other occupations stand and wait to speak if needed. You take note of new information about each patient, keeping tabs with every word the nurse says to you. Focused on the pile of charting and prognoses, you lost track of how many patients you had. “Alright, who else?”

“Doctor, those are all your patients.” A social worker says.

“Oh… really?” You look back at your notes, and you see that your schedule has enough free time to fit in Soobin’s patient, if needed. “Well then, let’s get back to work.”

You’re also surprised when you tilt your coffee cup up to only receive a few lukewarm droplets from the lid. That's when you see the tall man turn around the corner, his brown fluffy jacket switched into a white lab coat. Soobin’s clean dress shoes squeak as he stops in his place, noticing you staring. Blush creeping on his face, the color of a rose gets darker the closer he gets to you. “Hello again,” you say in a sultry tone.

“H-hi, here is the patient’s chart. She’s darling, she can’t talk as much, but she already is so kind and calm.”

You couldn’t help but feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach while listening to Soobin talk about his patient. He shows how good of a doctor he is with his patient care.

Memories flood your mind, thinking about your days as an intern. Soobin was a few years ahead in the program, already working on his specialty. You remember fellow surgeons giving him shit for being shy and wanting to be in pediatrics. Small-minded fools underestimated the specialty, thinking it’s just child’s play. That is, until everyone had a rotation on the floor getting yelled at by multiple parents, then to work on miniature anatomy. The thing that really changed your classmate’s perspective on Soobin was his argumentative skills; everyone hates family confrontation, but Soobin knew how to put parents in their place when questioning their child’s diagnosis. You’re happy that he’s well-respected these days, yet still has that shy demeanor.

However, you’re currently finding yourself having a hard time reading the various numbers from the blood test as you feel his eyes lingering on you. Usually, doctors will continue to talk or take the time to close their eyes for a power nap while their colleague looks over their work, but this wasn’t the case. In your peripheral vision, you could feel his eyes taking in your form. The strawberry flavor from your gloss doesn’t help your habit of biting your lip, concluding the child's prognosis.

Soobin’s intense stare falters, and he lets out a sigh. “I don’t like the way this is going,” he mumbles. You hum in confusion, urging him to explain, “Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.”

You stare into the man’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Soobin. She needs a heart transplant.” You click out of the patient’s files.

The tall doctor lets out a heavy sigh, eyes for the first time off of you, now closed as a sign of thought. His shoulders were tense, body leaned against the desk. The weight of his stress filled the air; you so badly wanted to hug him. “I’m going to have to call the organ transplant company,” his head tilts, eyes meeting yours again, “you’ll join me for the surgery.” Stunned at his assertiveness, he’s not asking, he’s not wanting help, he just wants you.

“I’ve never worked on small hearts, only… big hearts.”

Soobin chuckles at your comment, “Don’t worry, I’ll do most of the work, but I can teach you.”

Your eyes light up, you were never one to let down a learning opportunity, especially if the teacher is as hot as Dr. Soobin. You stop to admire the doctor before you blurt out, “Am I out of line to say that I can not believe you’re not married with a bunch of kids?” A blush burns across your face, realizing what you had just said.

Soobin’s eyebrow furrowed, head tilting, trying to digest what you had said, “If you were still my intern, yes. However, you are my fellow attending, so all I have to say is, that’s a weird thing to say.”

“I mean, come on, look at you, you’re—“ you pause.

“Pretty?” He grins.

“Yeah, it seems like you know that already-” this is going way out of line, “You'd think taking care of all those sick children, you wouldn't want to do anything with making one..." Pressing your lips shut, imagining them to magically lock into place before you get yourself into trouble.

Soobin stands there a bit, his usual soft, round eyes now glaring at you. Shaking his head slightly, he walks closer to you, whispering in your ear, “Sweetheart, you couldn't be more wrong."

Watching the doctor walk off, you shake your head out of disbelief, “I need to take a nap after all that.”

%%%

Your heart beats loudly in your ear, nerves fill your senses as you scrub your arms until they hurt from the sterilizing. Warmth hits your face behind your surgical mask with your one last sigh of confidence. Staring at the operating table through the window, you open the door to the room.

“Alright, everybody, we have a patient here for a heart transpl-” stopped mid-speech, you’re struck with an empty bed before you, “where’s my patient?”

Rushing into the dimly lit operating room, you don’t question the quiet surroundings. Worry bubbles up in your stomach now, noticing you’re in a completely deserted room. “What the hell?” Have I gone crazy? Is there a room full of workers waiting for me in another room? Or is there even a surgery scheduled?”

You stood there like a fool, breaking the sterile field as your hands grazed the lonely table. Suddenly, a heavy weight encapsulates you, arms on your sides, pushing you against the surface in front of you. “Glad you could make it, Doctor,” said a familiar, warm, husky voice near your ear.

You gasp feeling the man’s hips grind against your ass. “Soobin w-what are you doing? I need to get to surgery.” His lips trail hungry kisses along the exposed part of your neck. Your warm sighs made it harder to breathe in your mask, ripping it away and turning towards the man, capturing his lips against yours.

“You have no surgery,” Soobin tugs harshly at your scrub gown, tearing away your pants with it, “however, I’m going to keep you busy.”

You were fully exposed while the other doctor kept his protective gear on. He holds you up, putting you on top of the operating table, then he pulls your legs apart. You could feel your juices dripping down your slit, causing a predatory stare eluminate in Soobin’s eyes. The once cozy, shy guy you knew him as was gone. His teeth bite his bottom lip as his gloved hand runs down your shaking thigh, dipping his fingers into your folds. Whipping your head back, you whine from the weird sensation of the smooth texture of the glove touching you. Playing with your folds, teasing your hole, you jerk your hips out of agony.

Soobin’s work of breathing is fast, warm against your lips, “What a little slut,” a finger slides into you, “but you know that already,” another finger, “you don’t think I notice how you stare at me?” Three fingers slip inside your cunt painfully stretching you out, each drag was smooth yet loud from your arousal. Tears are prickling in your eyes out of pleasure.

“Please, Soobin, please, please…”

Tightly shut eyes relax to flutter open, expecting to see the scrubbed pediatric surgeon and his fingers inside you; instead, your vision clears up to a dusty, dimly lit on-call room. You groan, fist hitting against the firm bed, losing that addictive sexual pleasure. Cursing yourself for coming up with such a lewd dream. Turning in your bed to reach for your work phone, you catch a silhouette of someone across from you. He sat there, still, yet his breathing looked a little erratic. Your eyes trail down, the sparse lighting from the window highlights the prominent veins on his arms, down to his grip on his bulge.

“Soobin, how long have you been there?”

The man shifts in his seat, the grip on his cock tightens. Spit builds up in your mouth, noticing the outline of the head underneath his trousers.

“I came in to get some rest before our surgery, but-“ his plush lips parted, eyes taking in your form lying pretty on the cushion. “I got preoccupied.”

You look at him funny, not knowing how much of the dream was revealed in reality. “What now?”

Soobin once again sighs, head tilting back as he lets his hand go under his pants. You swear you were drooling like a hungry dog watching the scene take place. The bobbing of his Adam’s apple, eyebrows scrunched up, perfect heart-shaped lips releasing whimpers. If he’s going to play dirty, you will too. You slide your hand under your light blue pants, snaking your fingers past the lacey hem of your panties. The tips of your digits push into you, collecting your wetness to come up and circle your clit. Soobin’s sharp eyes watch the way you roll back in pleasure, his dick twitches at the sight. “Shit-” he curses to himself, he was warned about you and he was falling for it. Your eyes wince over to him, your fingers tented your pants, movements evident. “Let me help,” Soobin says in a huff.

“Mmm, I don’t know… You watched me sleeping like a perv.” You say with a smile, all while you lift your hip into your hand.

Soobin launches himself from his chair towards your bed. Head hovering over yours, you couldn’t help but get turned on by his warm breath fanning over your face. “You don’t realize that I know you were having a wet dream,” your movement comes to a halt, “about me.”

You side-eyed the man. There’s no way he’d know unless you—“Soobin, please, Soobin.” He mocks you. The room was dark, but you both knew how red you’ve become. The doctor’s hand cups your face, thumb soothing your blushed cheek. Leaning down to your ear, and whispers, “Now can I help you?”

Your slow nod signals Soobin to go forward with his intentions. Sounds of rustling movements and creaking of the cheap cot had your hair standing on your arms. Light breaths paired with hums from the man get closer to your lips. The plush flesh molds into you; it was warm and addictive, just like in the dream. Deepening the kiss until the point where all the air rushes out of each other's lungs. Although he was battling with himself, Soobin breaks apart from you, “Let's do something more.” his fingers curl around your waistband, tugging down your pants to reveal your cute panties. A sigh slips from his pink lips, big brown eyes studying the detail of lace outlining the light pink material. You gasp feeling his thumb rubbing your sensitive cunt causing your wetness to soak through the material. Watching the man’s eyes glued to your pussy and play with it, you lean up to leave trails of kisses down his neck. Unbuttoning his shirt, your fingers trace his abs, this only caused you to become impatient, “Soobin, please,” you pause, realizing he was teasing you just like in the dream, “please do something.”

The man pulls down his trousers along with his underwear, fully exposing his fat cock to you. Every vein stuck out, pulsating in desperate need to be touched. Fat tip, red and covered in precum, showing that he teased himself too. His fingers never stopped playing with you, for some reason, your everyday underwear put the doctor into a trance. “C-can I fuck your panties?” The giggle you let out made Soobin blush for a second, but it told him to continue.

He guided his tip inbetween your cunt and the material, you arousal coating his dick made his whole body shiver. Slowly, he thrusts his tip against the fabric, hitting your clit every time. Soobin’s eyebrows knit together, looking at you falling apart, your mouth gaping, a sheen of sweat collecting at your neck. A jolt of electricity, resulting in your thighs twitching every time your sensitive nub gets hit with friction. Both of you turned on not only by the sensations but how his dick poked out from your ruined panties, the bulge was wet and delicious. Both moaning loudly, you know you were going to get caught again doing your “special naps” in the on-call room.

Soobin pants, pecking your neck before stuttering out, “D-does this f-feel nice? Do you want more?” Before you could say anything, you feel the man’s long fingers venture under your panties, tracing your hole. The drag of his digits paired nicely with the attention he gave your clit. He curled his fingers searching for gummy spots, making you squirm underneath him. Once he had you drooling, going dumb to the point of your climax, his movements sped up. Built up pleasure released, harshly clenching around the man’s cock. He twitched, thrust becoming more erratic, Soobin’s whole body clenches, emptying his load, making your panties useless.

You whine, “Soobin- look what you did.” The man lying on you shakes his head, basically telling you that he didn’t care. You roll your eyes, your hands grooming his soft, dark locks. He kept his obsession with playing with you until you got whiny again. Head lifting from your chest creeps down to your pussy, ridding the fabic. Soobin’s big eyes look up, “Call one of your roommates to get you new ones because you’re not getting these back.” He smirks before shoving his face into you, tongue lapping up your juices and cleaning up the mess he left on you.

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil 🩺

taglist: @blue-moon-514, @naoristerling, @inkigayocamman, @izzyy-stuff, @biteyoubiteme, @saejinniestar

#txt devil #txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours #txt smut #txt imagines #txt x reader #txt x you #txt x y/n #soobin x reader #soobin smut #soobin fanfic #soobin hard thoughts #soobin hard hours #choi soobin smut #choi soobin x reader #medical txt #doctor!txt

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starlitsprout · 2 months ago

Text

In Case of Emergency

(Spencer Reid x Medic! Reader)

Warnings: violence, blood, cursing, and eventual smut 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

word count: 2K

Amidst an increase of injuries out in the field, a new team member is assigned to the BAU. A medic. Tasked with keeping the team alive, but when an unexpected threat challenges her ability to think on her feet, the team is forced to rethink their assumptions of their newest member.

Next | Previous | Beginning

Chapter One: The Newbie

The bullpen was unusually quiet that morning. A rare moment of stillness between cases. Hotch had just finished a conference call and was making his way back to speak with the team when a loud voice cut through the silence engulfing the bullpen.

"I swear, we need someone to fix the coffee machine in here," Garcia said loudly, emerging from her cave. "Caffine is the most important thing for a team that basically runs off it."

Morgan chuckled and raised his mug. "You're not wrong. That's why I got it fixed this morning, babygirl." He winked at her, leaning back in his chair.

"You sweet, sweet angel sculpted by the gods, I could kiss you!" Garcia cheered excitedly, making her way to the newly fixed machine.

"I wish you would've said something earlier before I paid an arm and a leg getting a coffee at that over-priced hipster place," Rossi said, sipping on his drink.

The team shared a laugh, and as the banter died down, Hotch's voice, steady and serious, spoke out. "Alright, everyone, conference room."

Everyone gathered around the table in the conference room, sitting down and shifting their attention to Hotch, who set down a folder on the table in front of them.

"Now, I know everyone has been feeling the weight of the recent cases. There have been a lot of injuries." Hotch took a pause, his gaze flicking briefly to the members of the team. "And a few close call, which bring me to the reason for this meeting."

A beat of silence hung in the air, with some of the members of the team shifting uncomfortably in their seats.

"We've been assigned a new team member," Hotch spoke, his voice flat but carrying weight. "We've been relying on on-call paramedics too much, and frankly, in light of the increased number of injuries, it's time we had one more consistently available."

The room fell into a stunned silence.

"A medic? Like, full-time medic?" Prentiss asked with a frown, unsure of the new addition.

"Exactly," Hotch replied. "She'll be accompanying us on cases, assessing injuries, and providing immediate care when needed. Think of it as one less thing to worry about when things go south."

"That doesn't sound bad," Morgan said with a shrug. "It would be better than waiting 30 minutes for someone to patch us up."

The team nodded in agreement, but a sense of uncertainty still wafted through the air.

Hotch notices this and holds up a hand to calm the team's nerves. "I understand that you all might have some concerns. But her credentials speak for themselves. She's highly qualified, top of her class, and has a specialty in trauma medicine along with combat experience. She'll be a great asset to us."

Before anyone could respond, the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open.

You stepped out, a figure so unexpectedly delicate in appearance that it caught the attention of everyone in the room.

You looked young, maybe in your early to mid-twenties, your frame smaller than most members of the team, with a posture that was straight but a bit shaky as you approached the conference door.

You wore a purple blouse, simple black jeans, and black boots, all paired with a small bag that you were holding in one hand.

"Agent Hotchner?" You spoke, calm and polite, but there was a slight timidness in the way you talked, as if you were still gauging your place there.

Hotch extended a hand, his expression neutral as he shook your hand. "Yes, we're glad you could join us Y/N. I'd like you to meet the team." He gestured toward the group sitting before you.

You nodded and turned, offering everyone a small but shy smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you all. I look forward to working with everyone."

The team went around introducing themselves, and then Hotch took you out into the bullpen to show you where your desk would be.

As soon as you were out of earshot, Garcia's eyes immediately widened as she looked at the rest of the team exclaiming, "Oh! My God! She's so cute!"

Morgan crossed his arms. "She's got the look of someone who's been through some stuff, but something tells me she's not exactly a field operative." His voice was teasing but somewhat disbelieving, as though he couldn't quite picture someone like you- small, pretty, and gentle- dealing with the darkness of their field.

Reid, who had read through all your files in less than a minute, spoke out. "According to what I've read here, she's been trained in combat medicine and emergency trauma care, obtaining a medical degree from Harvard. Along with extensive experience in the military."

"I guess Hotch was right. She's legit." Prentiss, who was impressed with your background, spoke.

"She's definitely more than legit along with qualified. Hotch and I screened a lot of different candidates, and she was the most experienced and talented. She's going to be a good asset to the team." JJ said, smirking slightly. "She might even surprise you while out in the field. Speaking of which, we should be heading out soon. I'll brief you guys on the case when we're on the jet."

JJ walked out of the conference room and into the bullpen to gather all her things; the rest of the team followed after her, readying for the next case.

As he gathered his essentials, Reid out of the corner of his eye watched you at your new desk, which happened to be across from his own.

He couldn't put a finger on it; there was something about you that was- different. Your demeanor was calm, almost too calm for someone of your experience. You seemed almost out of place among the hardened and serious agents, but you didn't seem to mind.

"So, what were you doing before this?" Morgan pressed, not satisfied with the vague answers your file had given.

You smiled politely. "I worked with military units in war zones. Field trauma, combat injuries, and emergency surgeries. Taught me what to do when things go wrong."

Morgan nodded, impressed with your answer.

Your response was measured, and yet there was a level of confidence in your words that made Reid take note.

As everyone stood to prepare for the case briefing, Reid found himself still observing you. Your movements were deliberate, graceful, as if you were in perfect control of yourself. He didn’t know why, but something about the way you looked so serene in a room full of high-strung agents made him feel… different.

30 minutes later, the team boarded the jet en route to Chicago to investigate a series of brutal murders. The cabin was filled with the usual chatter. Prentiss, Morgan, Rossi, and Hotch were discussing theories about the unsub while JJ worked on her laptop in the back.

You sat next to Reid, who was reading through case files looking for any clues or signs. You were, out of habit, arranging your medical bag, carefully ensuring everything was in its proper place. You could feel Reid stealing glances in between reading the case files.

"How long have you been with the military?" he asked quietly, breaking the silence.

You didn't glance up at him, focused on rearranging your different medical dressings for easier selection and quick access. "Five years. I spent most of my time in the Middle East." You spoke with such ease, not losing focus on your current task, as though the violence and chaos of your line of work didn't seem to affect you.

Reid nodded, his curiosity piqued. "That must have been... intense."

You gave a small shrug, finally finishing your re-organization, looking at Reid with a flicker of something in your eye. "You get used to it. People are always in need of help. That's what matters. It makes it worth it."

"I guess I just-" Reid shook his head slightly, rewording his thought. "No offense, but you don't seem like someone who's been in war zones."

Your lips twitched in amusement. "Because I don't look like I've been through hell and back?"

Reid immediately backtracked, his expression turning slightly flustered. "N-no, that's not what I meant! I just-"

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. "It's okay, Spencer. I know what you mean." You re-adjusted yourself in your seat, getting comfortable. "I get it. I don't exactly fit the mold. Everyone I work with or meet expects a battle-hardened, no-nonsense type with scars and a thousand-yard stare. Not...me."

Reid watched you carefully. "You don't seem bothered by that."

You shook your head. "At first, I was, but now, I've accepted myself for who I am. People have always underestimated me my whole life. I just learned the best way to handle it. That's why when I noticed your guys' reaction to me, I didn't take it to heart."

Reid's expression flickered for a moment. "I...can relate to that."

Your eye met his, curiosity sparking. "Yeah?"

He exhaled, looking back down at the case files in hand. "When I first joined BAU, I was twenty-two. I was the youngest agent they'd ever had, and the baby face didn't help. I had three PhDs but zero field experience, and I was thrown into a unit full of seasoned profilers who had seen things I could barely imagine."

You listened intently as he spoke, recognizing the quiet vulnerability in his tone while subconsciously leaning in, moving closer to him.

"They didn't mean to, but the team doubted me. They didn't think I could handle myself. And...to be fair, I did struggle at first," he admitted, giving you a sheepish smile. "I wasn't the best shot like Hotch, nor was I physically intimidating like Morgan, and I wasn't exactly the most socially adept person in the room."

You smiled at that. "I find that hard to believe."

He gave you a knowing look. "Trust me. I was an easy target for teasing."

You hummed, nodding. "So, what changed?"

Reid shrugged, closing the case files and setting them down on the table in front of you two. "I proved myself. I solved cases, learned how to shoot, and saved lives. Eventually, I became part of the team." He looked at you. "I'm sorry if we came off a bit judgemental. I'm glad you didn't hold it against us. If you keep being who you are, the rest of the team will see what you're capable of."

You gave him another small but genuine smile, appreciating his words. "Thanks, Spencer, but there's no need to apologize. Being the newbie comes with a bit of questioning and judgment, and it just encourages me to work harder."

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you, the hum of the jet filling the space, with the rest of the team settling down and taking a much-needed moment of rest before things ramped up with the case.

You watched as Reid turned a page in his book, his fingers carefully holding the edges.

"What are you reading?" you asked, tilting your head.

Reid perked up slightly, always eager to talk about books. "It's a collection of Edgar Allan Poe's works. I was in the mood for something gothic."

Your eyes lit up. "I love Poe!"

He blinked, surprised. "You do?"

You grinned. “Yeah! ‘The Tell-Tale Heart’ was one of the first stories that really creeped me out as a kid. And ‘Annabel Lee’—don’t even get me started on how beautifully haunting that poem is.”

Reid’s eyes lit up in that rare way they did when he found someone who shared his niche interests. “You like gothic literature?”

You nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely. I also love Mary Shelley, Bram Stoker, Shirley Jackson—"

Reid sat up straighter, visibly intrigued. “Wait, you’ve read Shirley Jackson?”

“Of course!” you said, laughing. “I adore her work. ‘We Have Always Lived in the Castle’ is one of my all-time favorites.”

“That book is a masterpiece,” Reid agreed, his excitement growing. “Jackson had this incredible way of creating unsettling atmospheres without relying on outright horror.”

You nodded eagerly. “Exactly! She was a genius at psychological tension. The way she wrote Merricat’s perspective was just so eerie and fascinating.”

Reid grinned, looking genuinely impressed. “Not many people I meet have actually read Jackson’s work, let alone appreciate it the way you do.”

You smirked playfully. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

Reid let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “I’m starting to see that.”

For the first time since you boarded the jet, you felt like you had clicked with someone. You had known Spencer Reid for less than a day, but already, you could tell that there was something… different about him. He wasn’t just brilliant—he was kind, thoughtful, and surprisingly easy to talk to.

And, for the first time, Reid found himself feeling the same about you.

Maybe you weren’t what the team expected. Maybe you weren’t what he expected.

But something told him that you were going to fit in just fine.

Authors Note:

AHHHH! I had so much fun writing this one! If you couldn't tell, I'm very much into criminal minds at the moment (RIP my Peter Parker fic). I started re-watching it and Grey's Anatomy at the same time, so I thought, why not make the reader a medic? I think a medic is something the team desperately needs and always wondered why they didn't have one lol. I've already started writing the next chapter, but I hope everyone enjoys this one! I decided to try out some new things, like making my own dividers (which I'm very proud of how they came out). Anyways, thank you for reading my word vomit, and I hope you liked it!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #slow burn #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid slow burn #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #criminal minds fic

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shelbgrey · 1 year ago

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Dating Derek Shepherd Headcanons(remastered)

Paring: Derek Shepherd x Reader

Summary: headcanons about being Meredith Grey's cousin and dating McDreamy. -SMUT warning!

💙MasterList ML2 💙Dating Moodboard

Your story starts at a coffee shop, sounds simple but your interaction really wasn't. You first met Derek a few months before your internship at the hospital. You just moved to Seattle with your cousin Meredith Grey and your meeting with Derek was totally unexpected but you'll never forget it.

Now, as weird or stereotypical it may sound it was love at first sight to Derek. You were there by yourself studying a medical book and Derek just happened to be walking by and saw you in the window.

He literally stopped when he saw you.

He wanted to talk to you so bad but he chickened out at first. In his eyes you were the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. You were right there and he finally worked up the courage to talk to you.

“Why would an amazing woman like you even talk to someone like me? That was the first thing he'd ever said to you and the words that fell from his mouth surprised you both.

you but you couldn't help but blush at his boldness.“Why not?”

The both of you talked into the day. You brought up that you were starting your intern year and he brought up he was a nero attending. Surprisingly you both failed to mention what hospital you were working at.

He was the first person to actually ask what you wanted to do in the medical field. To you it always felt like an unspoken rule that you and Meredith would become general Surgeons, that's not what you wanted and for some reason when he asked that you felt you could trust him.

“no one's ever asked me that before”

“well, I am” Derek smiled sencerly.

“I thought about Peds or Truama as my specialty”

He was pretty much smitten by you from the start. He couldn't keep his eyes off of you and for you a guy has never looked at you the way he did. It made you blush and feel things you never felt before.

“why are you looking at me like that?” you asked blushing.

“because your beautiful”

It was like he was something out of a romance book.

Even though it was the best conversation you had in a long time you unfortunately had to leave and meet Meredith some where. Derek wasn't about to let you go just yet so he offered to walk you to where you had to meet Meredith.

Then he asked for your number. It just felt too good to be true when it came to him, so you decided to mess with him a little bit. “you could be a masked murderer for all I know”

He would just chuckle and not take it personally. “there's always that possibility... Come on live a little”

You gave in with a loving heart. You wrote your number and drew a heart on a sticky note then stuck to his chest where his heart was.

Your first date was simple but romantic. You told him you weren't into anything too extravagant, so you went to a nice Italian restaurant and you talked the whole hole time.

You talked about anything and everything. Favorite movies, favorite childhood memories. You talked about why you guys became doctors, but failed to mention you both would be working at Seattle Grace Hospital.

Communication won't be a problem in your relationship. You both just find it so easy to talk to each other.

Later that night you went to your place and watched a movie. You almost kissed, but you made a rule not to kiss on the first date. Derek respected that and didn't have a problem waiting for you.

But you couldn't help it, your first kiss happened on the fourth date. You were at the movies and you couldn't help but lean into each other. The kiss was passionate and sweet. He held you and treated you like you were the only girl in the world.

The way he kisses you makes your heart race. He holds your face in his hands and you honestly feel like you and him are the only things that matter in the world.

He never felt this way with anyone, not even Addison.

You guys were dating for about a month before you started your internship at the hospital. You were suprised when Dr. Bailey asinged you to be on his service, you didn't even know he was an Attending there.

When you saw him you grabbed his sleeve and pulled him into an on-call room. “so you work here?”

He smirked. “yeah and so do you apparently”

Even though your relationship was growing stronger by the minute and it was going at a pace you both were comfortable with, you were worried about the fact you were an intern and he was an Attending.

You explained this, but he wasn't worried he just stared at you like a love sick puppy the whole time you talked. You sighed. “stop looking at me like that”

“like what? Like your the most beautiful woman in the world” he clicked his tough and shrugged with a stupid, adorable smirk. “sorry, I can't just not do that”

So you powered through it and ignored the whispers and honestly it made you two stronger as a couple.

You have an old black Labrador that is your protector and shadow. He didn't like Derek at first. Your dog Duke would stare him down every time he came over to the house, grumble at him and make sure to sleep on Derek's side of the bed, and he will shove his way between you if Derek was hugging you.

“there's this old soul that's just really hates my guts”

After a while Duke dose warm up to him and the two become quite close. If he works the night shift he'll pet Duke before he leaves and tells the dog to take care of you while he's gone. “take care of her buddy”

Your a Peds surgeon, you always look forward to having surgeries with him if the patient needs him.

You steal his ferry boat scrub cap all the time. You'd just get done with a surgery wearing it and when you come out of the OR you'd see Derek leaning against the wall with his arms crossed waiting for you. “I was looking for that... I didn't have it during my surgery”

You'd just shrugged and give him a cute smile. “but I love this one”

“your lucky you look cute in it”

He is your biggest supporter. Derek is your absolute number #1 fan, everything you do amazes him. You've never had a man supporting and encouraging you every day and night.

He's big on hand holding too, if your walking around the city your hands will be locked together, or sometimes hell just hold your had if your setting down at a table or something.

This man need physical contact a lot. He's a big cuddler and just needs you in his arms, it's a comfort and a protection thing.

“cuddle me?” he asked, giving you puppy eyes and holding his arms open. You smiled and cuddle up to his chest.

Your always resuring him that your always gonna be by his side. With that I think he's secretary insecure, Addison cheating on him really did a number on him. He trusts you, 100% but deep down he has this fear you'd find someone better.

You always tell him he's the only one for you and you love him “your so Handsome, have I ever told you that?”

“Yes dear, so many times” he smiled.

He leaves post-it notes all around the house for you. You find them everywhere. In your bag, the book your reading at the time. On top of your favourite cup. Stuck onto the mirror in the bathroom, if he has to get up and go to the hospital late into the night heal leave one on his pillow. He loves those little details. Loves to write you silly or romantic notes because he knows how much you love them.

Your Favorite one he ever wrote was, 'If I were to kiss you and then go to hell I would, so then I can brag with the devils I saw heaven without even entering it.'

You've kept every single note he's writin you.

He's so flirty with you. No matter how many years you've been together, he still thinks you're the sexiest, most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

He'll learn quickly your a book warm. Sometimes if your reading and not giving him any attention he'll wedge his way between you and the book, resting his head on your chest.

Like I said, he flirts with you so much. Some times he'll come up behind you while your working and whispere suggestive comment in your ear or grab your ass.

Watching old Universal monster movies together and the show The Munsters.

If it's a smut book you get really secretive about and he'll notice quickly. “What you reading?” you blush and hold the book away from him. “nothing”

If he gets a hold of the book and reads a steamy part if the book he'd want to try everything he read with you.

Your hospital 'nickname' would probably be bookworm, but then after you and derek get married it'll be Lady Shepherd. Mark will tease you sometimes and call you McWife.

Speaking of which you and Mark become pretty good friends surprisingly. It'll scare Derek at first and in the back of his mind he'll have this fear of Mark sleeping with you.

“I'm not gonna lie she's beautiful... But I promise I won't do that to you ever again” Mark said to Derek.

Even if you're good friends with Mark he's not your person. Callie is your person and later on you become close to April and kinda become her guard dog.

When you fight you both always feel guilty. It hurts Derek seeing you so said. What makes it worse for him is when he's the reason for your pain. He's always the first to apologize. He hold you from behind, whispering he's sorry over and over.

“don't McDreamy me”

“McDreamy is being a McAss”

He drives like a maniac. Plain and simple. “Jesus Christ, Derek, we Are Not on a race track, why Are You Going so Fast?!!?!?”

He's a car guy. Old classic cars, muscle cars, race cars, anything. You don't really care for cars except for the iconic ones in movies or TV shows. “you just want a 67 impala because it's in 'Supernatural”

He may tease you about it, but he'd definitely try and find one for you. He's got that neurosurgeon money, so he can afford it😂

You guys play 'slug bug' or 'punch buggy'(whatever you call it), but he changes the rules a lot. “it's a water cooled one, it don't count”

“Yes it does!” you sighed and punched his shoulder again.

And don't even think about putting your feet on the dash of his car. “if we get in wreak your gonna go threw the windshield... And your gonna mess up the dash, get your feet down”

If you make him a bracelet he's never taking it off. You both probably have matching bracelets made of paracord or beads.

Your Song is 'you took the words right out of my mouth' by Meatloaf.

Ferry boat rides all the time. Sometimes just to get to work or maybe it'll be for a small date.

You definitely screw on one though...

God, this man loves everything about you. You have a couple of tattoos, he wants to know about them. It doesn't matter what type of hair you have or if you like it or not, he loves it. He'll love your voice, body, personality... Everything.

It won't take him long to open up to you about what happened to his father and how he felt about Amilea's drug addiction.

He wishes his dad got to meet you. “he would have loved you”

Now, his mom loves you. She thinks you balance Derek out quite well. She was a little concerned ablut the age gap at first, but she quickly found out you and derek love each other more than anything.

After the hospital shooting his mom will call you and check on you after she knows for certain Derek's okay. Her husband was shot and killed, so she wanted call you and check on you since you almost lost Derek the same way she lost her husband.

Now all of his sisters, aside from Liz hates you. It breaks Derek's heart. Nancy really doesn't like you and for no apparent reason too. It pissed Derek off so much when Nancy kept calling you a 'sluty intern` when she first met her.

“she's not sluty! She's beautiful, Smart. She has a heart of gold... You nothing about her, not a damn thing. You don't know the things that damn hospital says about her just because we we're together, you don't know the fact she's been through so much she only feels safe in my arms. She keeps get pushed down, but some how she gets back up still smiling.... Don't you ever call her Sluty again”

He's a family man and deserves one. When Alex did the medical project with the kids from Africa you and derek get assigned to a orphaned 6 year old boy named Atticus. He was of Asian decent and no one knew how he ended up with the group.

Neither one of you cold explain it, but you guys just knew he was your kid. You and derek were the only two he trust and once all his medical stuff was settled you adopted him.

Later on you two have twins. One boy named Jason and a daughter named Charlotte. They both look like Derek, but have your eyes.

He can be a rough kisser, but mostly he's a passionate kisser. He pours all his love and emotions into it, he makes sure your the only one on this earth he wants to love.

He's soft with you. He's so gentle and delicate and you can tell through the way he brushes your hair from your face or the way he nuzzles his face into your neck that he just absolutely adores you.

If your in bed he'll always have his arms around you. Rather your the little spoon or your on his chest. But sometimes if his day is rough he'd want to lay his head on your chest. His favorite feeling in the world is your arms around him and your fingers running through his hair.

He absolutely loves feeling your fingers run through his hair. He'll kill to have his head on your cheat while you play with his hair after a rough day at the hospital.

He can turn you on so easily, one look and you know to head into a spare on-call room.

NSFW headcanons:

He's that perfect mixture of slow and passionate but when you've had a stressful day and you need a little bit harder, a little rougher he will provide.

If he's had a rough day, he either needs one of two things. A rough fuck or he needs to curl up beside you and rest his head on your chest while you play with his hair.

He's a boob man, He’ll push your bra up and take a nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirls all around while he squeezes your hips.

He'll bury his face into your boobs as he pounds into you. He loves it when you start moaning and tugging at his hair, He honestly can’t get enough.

he loves grabbing you by the hips, literally squeezing his fingertips against your soft skin, holding you in the place or using them to help guide the pace.

He probably knows your body better than you do. He knows every single one of your ticks.

Hair pulling, he loves feeling your fingers in his hair or he'll tangel his fingers in yours and tug on it when he's getting head or about ready to cum.

He didn't realize how much he actually liked it untill you started pulling on his hair while he was eating you out. “Damn... Do that again... Please”

He love getting head. He loves having you on your knees. Plus, feeling your lips around him pushes him closer to cumming in your mouth.

Bondeg kink, his ties, belts, he'll tie you up with anything.

He needs to be in control....

He loves missionary, keeping eye contact while he fucks you. He loves how you dig your nails into his back and wrap your legs around his waist to bring him impossibly closer.

He wants to see if he can he make you scream louder than he did the last time. He loves the noises you make.

If you try to hold back your noises or even muffle them when it's unnecessary, he'd put an end to it. “don't hold back, let me hear your voice”

But he also lives for the moments where it's just sensual and gentle. He secretly loves just holding you and kissing you slowly.

He definitely has a Praise kink, he loves making you feel loved and appreciated. He love how he can easily make you blush.

“God, your so beautiful”

He's very skilled with his tounge, he loves eating you out. your legs around his head. He loves your legs in general and loves leaving kisses on the insides of your thighs. He'd rather pleasure you for hours than receive.

Biting, he's loves marking you up. There has been many times you had to cover your neck with makeup, but most of the bite marks are on your thighs.

Has a soft spot for sex in the shower, he loves holding you up against the wall, roughly while he drives his cock into you.

If you want to take a shower and get cleaned up, Derek will lift you up in his arms and carry you to shower, he'll hold you safe and will be extremely gentle with your sensitive body.

Dispite him being mostly rough in bed and pushes you to the point of screaming, he'll be so soft and gentle in the end. “you did so good for my baby, I wasn’t too rough was I?”

He's very attentive when it comes to aftercare. you want a warm bath? Done. You want massages? Done. You ask, he delivers. All he cares about is your comfort, he insists on cleaning up any mess that's on you or the bed. If he sees any marks or bruises he will apologize for that with a soft smile on his face.

#Derek shepherd headcanons #Derek shepherd x reader #Derek shepherd imagines #Derek shepherd smut #Greys anatomy imagines #Patrick Dempsey #Greys anatomy x reader #Greys anatomy

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uniqueeval · 8 months ago

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Can forgotten rubella children of the ’60s hold clue for Zika babies?

Story highlights Babies with multiple birth defects were born to US women infected with the rubella virus in the 1960s What these families have needed may signal what’s in store for Zika babies Brooklyn, New York CNN — One side of the bedroom is an explosion of pink, from the hair accessories and dangling trinkets to the stuffed animals and laundry hamper. The other, starting with the fuzzy…

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wildestdreamsblog · 1 year ago

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Latibule Season 2: II

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which he lost his latibule.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: A late valentine's gift <3 I’m so sorry for taking so long. A lot happened and work is the busiest and and and life.

Masterlist, Latibule 2.I

“Hyung, did you hear me? I said-"

Kim Namjoon sighed from the other line, headache already creeping up his temples from the boatload of information Jimin was dumping on him on the other line. As who he considered to be the only sound and sane one among the seven, Namjoon was accustomed to being the voice of reason, getting the boys out of tight illegal situations, and managing the members. Min Yoongi might be the head of the mafia, but all seven of them were leaders in their own right and fields.

Seokjin was the head of the medical field, Namjoon of the twisted world of law, Jungkook of the technology world.

And this definitely was one of Namjoon’s specialties: stopping the fearless and heart-stricken leader of Bangtan from kidnapping a woman in broad daylight. For fuck’s sake, he wasn’t even against the illegal act itself, but could he just do it when there weren’t eyes watching him?! When the sun wasn’t at its highest?! When he wouldn’t be tomorrow’s headline?!

He ran his hand through his disheveled hair, glaring at the eldest hyung who was chuckling to himself. Seriously, he thought doctors were supposed to have no life and no time to annoy their friends? Why then was the Chief of the hospital barging in his office and lounging on his fancy sofa?

“I’m glad you found this amusing, hyung,” he commented dryly which only made the eldest laughed harder. “This isn’t something to laugh about.”

“What?! We all know something is definitely wrong with Yoongi. This isn’t news to us! This only confirmed our suspicions!”

“You could at least be supportive of what he’s going through right now.”

“Namjoon,” he started when he was finally done laughing, wiping the tears from the side of his eyes. “How do you expect me to be supportive of him right now? He’s on the verge of kidnapping a woman because he thought she looked like her. Does that make sense to you?”

He tilted his head before standing up, his movement elegant as he crossed the room to where Namjoon was sitting behind his desk. He smiled down at him, his hand supporting his weight as he leaned down on his wooden desk. “Dead people don’t exactly come back to life after burning from a fire as immense as that one, do they?” he asked, his tone light yet his eyes held faux curiosity. And at that moment, an air of danger surrounded the office. He could see the coldness that reflected on Jin’s eyes.

Namjoon knew when to back down, especially when Jin was in this mood. It was almost comical how quickly Jin’s emotions could switch, and it was definitely not amusing how bloody the effects could be. He wasn’t exactly the mafia prince for nothing. He, of all people, knew how perceptive and strategic Jin was. Never once did he do anything without a reason. And precisely because of that that it took him a moment before he answered. He lowered his eyes for a second before returning to Jin’s now amused ones. “They don’t, hyung.”

Jin nodded before turning to leave, his hand was in his pocket, his stance relaxed as though nothing was amissed. He had opened the door when he paused as though he remembered something. He twisted his body, his eyes trained on the famous attorney before his lips twisted into an entertained smile. His finger was now resting on his lips.

“Ah, unless they’re actually not dead.”

—-

Min Yoongi was like a man possessed, never leaving any stones unturned as he religiously looked for his angel.

He looked at every single piece of record of the town that the town had, employed several people to look for you, searched every available CCTV to trace any evidence that you existed, that you weren’t merely a figment of his imagination, that you weren’t merely indication of his declining sanity. Yet all roads lead to nothingness.

It was like any leads he got were mere fragments, offering little clarity or direction in the investigation. Likewise, it seemed as if someone was making sure that he’d go nowhere with the little pieces of evidences he was able to gather of your existence.

As days turned to weeks and to months, he was starting to be convinced that you were just his imagination playing tricks on him, that his mind was just too cruel to conjure an image of you, that it was just too sick to think that you came back to him. In this moment of profound longing, when the ache of your absence weighed heavily on his twisted soul, he couldn’t help but ponder about his choices in life.

On some days when he missed you the most, he thought that this must have been his karma for living his fucked-up life brutally. On a day like this when he should have been celebrating your birthday, when you were supposed to turn a year older, when you were supposed to be by his side as you blew your candle, he thought that this must have been his penance, a consequence of the twisted journey he had decided to walk on.

But wasn’t this just too painful?

Wasn’t his punishment too cruel to have the world gave him you, only to wretch you away from his arms?

Wasn’t it too cruel to have loved and lost you?

Yoongi let out a humorless chuckle, the puffs of smoke coming from his lips as he looked at what once was your home. It was your birthday, and tomorrow was your second death anniversary.

How he survived the existence without you, he would never know. He decided that he would never stop looking for you because accepting that you were gone from this fucking earth was not an option. He could feel inside the dead heart of his that yours were still beating. He knew a love as immense as what he felt for you wouldn’t die as easily as that. No.

Min Yoongi would find you.

“Happy birthday, my angel,” he whispered to nothingness, only the moon bore witness to his greeting, the night enveloped him in a solitary embrace. The echoes of his sentiment lingered in the air, hoping that his words reached you where you were.

---

“Happy birthday, eomma,” Jung Hoseok finished the song lightly, clapping the chubby little hands of your son in sync with the tune of the song. Your son was giggling as he bounced him on his lap, looking over his long lashes to Hoseok.

“Careful, the candle’s just in front of you,” he warned before shuffling the cake an inch closer to you. He came home almost an hour ago from his work in the docks with a box of cake in his hands he bought. You could no longer count how many times the three of you moved over the year, the last one being the most suspicious to you when after you came home from the market, he had already packed your bags. Before you knew it, he was already driving away from the town.

You lived in so many places.

You never felt at home in any of them.

It was unfair how you only felt at home when you were in his arms.

You clutched your walking stick on one hand, the other cautiously running your hand on the table to detect the cake’s placement.

“I’m not fully blind yet, Hoseok,” you admonished him teasingly before closing your eyes and wishing with all your heart that your son grew up happy. You wished to the heavens that his fate was kinder to him, that he didn’t have to suffer the way you did. You prayed that his fate was free from the shadows that haunted your own past.

You wished that he could live the life he deserved.

“Eomma,” he called for you, lifting his chubby arms to go to you. Hoseok cooed at him before lifting him to your lap carefully. You felt the warmth of his little arms encircling your neck, tiny lips pressing sweet kisses on your cheeks before erupting into giggles. "Eomma!"

A smile graced your face as you soaked in the pure joy radiating from your beloved child. Leaning in, you planted a loving kiss on the person you now cherished most in the world. His eyes lit up in response, a mirror image of his father's, carrying the same warmth and affection he did when he looked at you.

Hoseok watched the two of you from his seat. It was almost comical how he loathed your son’s father with all his heart, only to love his son with the same intensity. If he couldn’t end that bastard brother of his, if he didn’t have it in him to finish the job and kill you, then he would just take the life Yoongi was supposed to live.

He would never let go of the two of you- not when he found peace in this little family. The only way he would let go of this was if the only person he loved came back to him. But that was impossible, right? After all, Yoongi made sure that she would cease to exist in this world.

Wasn’t this the crueler revenge, he thought. Wasn’t this what Min Yoongi deserved?

It was almost amusing to think how he could have been dead if not for one of his brothers that saved him and you that fateful night. He could have almost missed this little slice of heaven had it not been for his brother, the only one who knew that he was still alive.

---

Almost two years ago, somewhere in a small province of South Korea

You woke up with a start, your heart beating faster as evidenced by the spike in the heart monitor attached on your bruised skin. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor, attached to your bruised skin, echoed in the room, its pace mirroring the accelerated beat of your heart. The sudden awareness left you momentarily disoriented, and the sterile environment around you hinted at the gravity of the situation. As your senses sharpened, you couldn't shake the feeling that the throbbing in your chest was not only from the abrupt awakening but also from the lingering echoes of a disconcerting dream or a painful reality.

Every single thing that happened went back to you.

Every single detail of that night, of the way he smiled so tenderly at you, of the way he softly told you that he would be back, of the way a strange man entered your house and threatened you.

The recollection was vivid, etched into your consciousness like a haunting melody.

You remembered the way Suga’s face became cold the moment he saw that man. You remembered not seeing even a trace of the man you loved.

You remembered the truth and the pain that came with it, and then you remembered thinking it was your end. Beyond it all, beyond all the betrayal, lies and deceit that unfolded, you remembered wishing that he would be fine after all of that like the fool you were.

Wincing, you lifted your fragile hand to your shoulder, feeling a faint pain where the bullet had pierced your skin.

“Don’t move,” a tired voice sounded on your left. Startled, you turned to look at the source, only to find the man who attempted to kill you leaning against the wall, his own arm bandaged, his handsome face colored with faint bruises.

Hoseok didn’t come out of it unscathed, no. He looked so hallow. It was like he was a lost child, like a man that lost his purpose, like he was a shell of what once was a soul.

He must have seen your alarmed expression. He waved his other arm, his jaw clenching from the events that transpired. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You blinked at him, never trusting a word that came out of his mouth. It would be difficult for you when you saw how he unleashed hell that night.

“I-I,” you swallowed, your dried throat making it harder to speak. “d-don’t believe y-you.”

He watched you for a moment before nodding his head. That was fair, he thought. “How are you feeling? You’ve been unconscious for almost a month.”

What?

“Y-you waited that long to kill me?” you asked, your voice hoarse as you sat down. If he was going to end you, then you wouldn’t take it lying down.

Wordlessly, he crossed the room, lifting the glass of water on your bedside table, the straw turned to you. “Drink.”

You glared at him, distrust and anger in your eyes as you met his emotionless ones.

“I’m not going to kill you.”

You scoffed, turning your head away from him to look at where on earth you could have been. The hospital room was small, the window offering no clue as to your whereabouts. You wondered where Suga could have been.

Did he make it out alive?

Was he hurt?

Was he looking for you?

Did you want him to after what you knew?

“I do draw the line on killing expectant mothers.”

Latibule 2.III

#bts fic #yandere bts #bts yandere #min yoongi fic #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x reader #yandere min yoongi #yoongi fic #mafia min yoongi #bts mafia au #suga x you #suga x reader

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blackbirdsblackberries · 9 months ago

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Okay hear me out,

Yandere batfam but reader doesn’t trust regular healthcare professionals. (Other people-they’ve been told to believe the outside world is evil and scary. The batfam didn’t intend for this but it works)

Like say reader gets the flu, No way in heck is any stranger coming into the mansion.

Would each member of the batfam study a different specialty? Like cass or Steph studied gynecology, Tim studied nutrition (lol) dick studied dentistry maybe? (He makes people smile)

Or would that all be on Bruce?

Or would they just drug reader so that someone can come in and take care of them.

Honestly rn I have a nasty toothache and I wonder how far the batfam would go/what they would do if reader had a toothache. (I’m kinda imagining the fam giving reader a drugged drink so that they can take them to a dentist and their excuse is “they’re extremely anxious and terrified so we gave them some Xanax” but I’m also imagining them taking them down to the batcave where the medical bay/area of the cave is equipped with practically everything)

I love this! I definitely think most of them would have a basic understanding of all of the medical parts of life!

You're cheeks are red and you're sickeningly pale. Bruce can't help but lean over your bed and watch as you struggle to sleep. You had adamantly refused having a doctor over to check on you, going as far as to try and lock yourself in your bathroom.

He and the others have done their best to help you but you're so stubborn that you fight back every time. He's almost impressed, his darling child is almost as stubborn as he can be! It must mean that you both have things in common!

He feels so so bad that he and the others had to sedate you but he had no choice! You weren't letting them help :(

But how could you when this is how they react?

This is what you needed, they know what's best. While passed out they had a health professional look over you - obviously under the keen eye of Tim and Damian so they wouldn't get any ideas.

You're so so sickly, what would you do without them?

Dick was in despair upon finding out his little sibling was sick and he couldn't cuddle up to them without risking overheating them.

Jason was annoyed, how could you have gotten sick?! You don't leave the manor!

Tim was curious, it'd be fun trying to nurse you back to health, maybe he could make you trust and depend on him more.

Damian feels guilty, he was sick and didn't tell anyone while still cuddling up to you. He won't admit he felt guilty or that he gave you the sickness but he'll stay by your side the entire time!

Cass and Steph both try to put their studied fields to work to make you get better fast (they can't do much, it's just a cold).

Duke watches the mayhem unfold and simply sits by you and calmly talks to you, whispering sweet nothings and making sure you aren't overwhelmed.

#dc #dc comics #dc universe #dcu #yandere #yandere dc #dc robin #yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #dc fanart #yandere batboys #platonic yandere #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #blackbirds feathers

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icycoldninja · 15 days ago

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hello!!! Dante or raiden (maybe both… but separately of course) dating a doctor???

Sure!

Dante + Raiden x Doctor!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Now that you are dating someone who heals at a surprisingly quick rate, of course you pounced on this opportunity to study him.

-Whenever he wasn't busy, you would try to take samples of his blood or his skin for future study, until you'd amassed a literal collection of his DNA. You'd better pray that no one ever goes into your closet.

-He appreciates how quick you are to examine, then prescribe treatment for any injuries he sustains during missions, but he really wishes you weren't such a worrywort when it came to him.

-Despite his protests because of how dangerous things are, you end up as a field medic for all your devil hunter friends, regardless of whether they have superhuman healing abilities or not.

-You're the first person he goes to when he's sick, and even though you tell him the same stuff everyone else does, Dante still only listens to you.

-Though it'll be a while before he admits it, he thinks you will be the one to fix him, both physically and mentally.

-Finds himself haunting the hospital/clinic that you work at, confusing the other staff, since the only thing that seems to be wrong with him is that he's lovesick and hellbent on saying hi to you at least once.

-Proudly introduces you to everyone he meets as "my doctor", and those who hear this immediately assume he's secretly wealthy, wealthy enough to afford hiring someone like you to be at his back and call. Wait until they find out the truth.

-Even though he doesn't understand all the jargon that comes with your profession, he doesn't mind letting you lie down in his lap while you ramble on about your day, all the things you diagnosed, all the things you'll need to work on, and more.

-He also tries his best to set you on a healthy sleeping schedule, but it's rather hypocritical of him to do so, because he goes to bed at 3 in the morning.

{ Raiden }

-Raiden admires you for the strength and intelligence you possess, as well as the sheer dedication and passion that drove you to become a doctor in the first place.

-The very fact that you're still functioning after working such long, demanding shifts makes him wonder if they made you into a cyborg too.

-He knows you want to examine him whenever he comes back from his long missions, but he's a cyborg, not a full human, so there's very little you could do even if there was anything wrong with him.

-He takes you to visit Doktor, who, as a fellow doctor, will try to educate you on the functions and complex science that makes up a cyborg.

-You end up spending more time with Doktor than your actual boyfriend and more all-nighters at cyborgnetic research compounds than the hospital/clinic you work at.

-It's not long before Raiden's asking if you want to switch specialties.

-Sometimes, when you're on a multiday work trip and Raiden is enjoying some leisure time at home, he will put on your coat and then stare at himself in the mirror for a few minutes before realizing how stupid that is and taking it off.

-"An apple a day keeps the doctor away", or so they say. Just keep in mind that if you ever make Raiden mad, (which is rare, but it can still happen) he will buy a whole bunch of apples and leave them on the counter, where they sit there until either of you eat them.

-Though he may not have any use for your medical prowess personally, he does know people who would. If anyone he's friends with gets sick, he calls you for advice.

-He also sometimes asks you for suspiciously specific advice regarding the locations of vital organs, important arteries that the removal of which would cause instant death, and where the brain stem is the strongest.

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mixelation · 2 months ago

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have some reborn au. tori's second chunin exams arc

i think i've posted some of this before, and some of it i..... don't think i have? the beginning i'm like 90% sure i posted, so don't just skip the whole post if it seems familiar.

there's a [...] where there's missing scenes. also i think the reason i never posted sections of this are i didn't like certain details or wanted a few scenes to be better. however i'm in a Posting Mood

xXx

Tori was having a problem. Several problems, actually.

“I’m not even allowed to submit a proposal without some idiot chunin co-signing,” she complained, pacing back and forth in front of Deidara. He was seated on his bed, rubbing ointment into the pink patches of his feet and legs that his medic hadn’t quite healed all the way.

Deidara had… set a field on fire, or something, on his mission. Whatever. Kushina-sensei had gently hinted at Tori that she should go over and make sure he didn’t need help cooking or cleaning, as while Konoha hospital could fix up most things, Deidara had still landed himself three weeks leave with foot injuries.

Obviously, Deidara had yelled at her and set a clay flea off in her face for even hinting he might need help. Convincing him to let her ladle the big pot of her mediocre curry soup she’d lugged over into his own tupperware had been a whole ordeal filled with yelling and a couple minor explosions. But once she had that out of the way and a bunch of tupperwares in his fridge, she was taking his presence in town as an excuse to rant about her own problems in her new lab assignment.

“My new supervisor wants me on dish duty,” she went on, gesturing furiously with both hands. “I know every piece of research fuinjutsu better than anyone there, and I get dish duty? I wouldn’t mind cleaning my own dishes, or if everyone was cleaning dishes, but my ideas for projects just get ignored. Who cares that I’m a genin? I have more experience than any of the chunin in that lab.”

She’d complained to higher management and attempted to get reassigned, but it seemed she was being ignored. She was afraid she’d have to go through Kushina to get facetime with the Hokage. She didn’t want to play nepotism; she wanted to earn this herself.

Deidara looked at her like she was stupid.

“If it’s a rank problem,” he said, “then just go get promoted to chunin, yeah.”

Tori stared back at him, flummoxed. This idea hadn’t occurred to her. She was quite confident she could handle any task any chunin might encounter in a lab. She was reasonably certain she could perform better than some of the jounin in a lab, even, especially if she got to head her own projects in her own specialties. But… chunin were meant to lead missions. They had to be able to fight things, had to know some set number of jutsu, had to have all the rules and ordinances memorized.

“Do you think I’m qualified?” Tori wondered out loud.

She really only had a grab bag of jutsu under her belt, the product of only bothering to learn things that interested her. Her combat skills mostly revolved around hitting things with a stick, or irreversibly destroying flesh in an extremely slipshod way. It seemed like a vast overestimation that she might be qualified for a promotion.

Deidara managed to look even more unimpressed with her.

“What the hell do you think chunin are?” he asked.

“Squadron leaders?” Tori tried.

“Not the baby ones,” Deidara told her. “Anyone with two brain cells to rub together can make chunin. The only reason you’re not already promoted is that Iwa is filled with assholes, yeah.”

This seemed… wrong, somehow. She’d mostly just gotten as far as she did in the Iwa exam by relying on others. But, maybe, she could swing an internal promotion?

Tori went and looked up the official minimum qualifications for chunin promotion. She did qualify, it seemed. Apparently you only needed the Academy three ninjutsu to make chunin, although more were recommended. And maybe she should review all these rules and internal structures she was supposed to know…

The minimum mission requirement was also only one C-rank, which seemed too low. It also seemed like her various higher ranking missions maybe shouldn’t count. The Iwa fiasco had mostly just been her playing side-kick, up until she basically just lied through her teeth for a very stressful few hours. The Sasori fiasco wasn’t exactly a shining moment for her either. It all really depended on her being on a team with a bunch of monsters rather than her own talents, honestly.

Oh well. It wouldn’t hurt to try, she supposed. It wasn’t like the Hokage’s office didn’t know exactly who she was and the details of her on-paper accomplishments.

She filled out a form for promotion-by-mission and turned it in. Two days later she was called into the Hokage’s office. Minato was literally eating a sandwich while he talked to her, apparently on his lunch break.

“Right,” Minato said, swallowing. He picked her application off a pile of papers and slid it across his desk to her. “I’m not approving this.”

“Okay,” Tori said, having expected as much.

“Because I want you to go to the next exam,” he continued. “It’s in Kiri.”

“Oh,” Tori replied, surprised. So she’d have to prove her qualifications? Annoying.

“I think you should aim to win the tournament,” Minato said through another mouthful of sandwich. “Make it flashy. It’ll be a good showing for Konoha.”

“Wait—” Tori started. “I’m not—”

“I’m going to okay you to reduce lab hours if you feel like you need training,” Minato continued, unperturbed by the madness he was spitting. He passed another, stamped form across the desk for her, brushing sandwich crumbs off of it. “You have six weeks. Kushina said she’d register you. Let me know if you need anything.”

He dismissed her. Tori wandered out of his office gripping her exemption paperwork in both hands. Less lab time was the opposite of what she wanted!

Deidara laughed at her when she reported what happened. There was, she noted, empty curry-stained tupperware in his sink.

“I can’t win the tournament,” Tori bemoaned as he snickered. She was really more of a “promoted due to clever thinking” type of kunoichi. “Make it flashy? What is he thinking?”

“Probably that most genin actually just suck, yeah,” Deidara told her. “Do you think Kushina-sensei could convince him to let me go to the tournament?”

Apparently the idea of watching her fight was deeply funny to Deidara. He talked for a very long time about wanting to see her panic and melt a small child into goo in front of all their friends and family. Tori buried her face in her hands.

“Oh, then you’d get a pay raise,” Deidara said, eyes suddenly brightening. “We could move somewhere better, yeah.”

“Deidaraaa,” she whined.

xXx

The lab sink was already filled with dirty test tubes in the morning. The new chunin had mislabeled several samples the day before, and now the experiment was ruined, and Tori was in charge of clean-up. Tori listened to the chunin explain this, glaring at the sink.

“So I’ll be setting it up again while you clean,” the chunin said.

It wasn’t that Tori thought she’d never mislabel something. It was that she had enough experience to know to double-check, and if she managed to screw it up anyway, she’d clean up her own fuck-ups.

Plus, everyone had ignored that she’d pointed out their control for this experiment made no sense. There was a huge risk that whatever results they got, if this chunin could get it to work at all, would be totally uninterpretable.

“Actually, I have an exemption,” Tori told the chunin. “I just came in to say I’ll be out for a while.”

She fled the lab. Kushina’s office door was always open.

“Oh!” Kushina said when Tori knocked. “You’re getting started on training earlier than I thought. Donut?”

She had a small box of donut holes she pushed at Tori. Kushina always had snacks on hand, because she liked bribing people into see her in person.

“I talked it over with Minato,” Kushina said, twirling a pen in her fingers as she spoke. “Basically, we think it’d be a good PR move if you sort of showed off that Konoha is basically the best at fuuinjutsu.”

“Okay,” Tori said. She could do that, at least… probably.

“You weren’t really flashy with it in the Iwa tournament,” Kushina continued. “So we’ll have to come up with something. Maybe you can work on giving some speeches about how your jutsu works like some weirdos do. Oh, but don’t show off you can use nonhuman chakra; we don’t want that getting out until it has to.” Kushina frowned slightly. “And I guess you shouldn’t melt any other genin. That’d be bad for international relations.”

“Okay,” Tori repeated. That just severely limited her combat capabilities. “Um, Hokage-sama told me to… win the tournament?”

She waited for Kushina to say Minato was being ridiculous. Instead she beamed and said, “Well, of course! I want my team to be three-for-three, you know!”

Kushina then made her take the rest of the box of donuts and shooed her out of the office, with a promise they’d make a training schedule.

“It’ll only be like twice a week,” Kushina said as Tori gathered up her bag. “Don’t want to distract you from the lab!”

“But,” Tori started. She needed… more than that, if she was even going to pass, let alone win a tournament.

“Bye!” Kushina replied.

Tori walked out of Hokage Tower feeling completely unsure of what to do. She could go… think about combat fuuinjutsu? Except, she’d moved most of her materials to her desk in R&D in a bid for separate work and personal time, and she did not want to go back there right now.

Well, she knew Deidara was in town and not doing anything. She went and asked him if he wanted to train.

Deidara took at her in deep distrust. “Who are you and what did you do with Tori?”

“Come on,” Tori whined. “I brought you donuts.”

Deidara was walking with a slight limp, but he did accept the rest of the donut holes and then shuffled out the door.

“We can use my grounds, yeah,” he said, still sounding suspicious that she wanted to train at all.

Deidara had his own assigned training ground, out in a field away from anything else. It was filled with half-made sculptures covered in tarp that Tori had decorated in fuuinjutsu herself, to reduce the chance of random explosions.

The field was also completely riddled with potholes, blown into the ground by Deidara’s various experiments. Deidara wasn’t exactly quick on his feet right now, but he did spend the rest of the morning attempting to shove Tori into various holes and then close them over her, making fun of her the entire time.

So probably she was improving at… something. Getting out of death traps, maybe.

Kushina, at least, did get back to her with a schedule fairly quickly. Kushina had blocked off some time in the afternoons on Mondays and Thursdays, and gone ahead and made training ground reservations.

“Do you have anything you want to do?” Kushina asked while she tied her hair up in preparation for what Tori assumed was two hours of kicking Tori’s ass.

“I mean, I can come up with something,” Tori said. Then she added slowly, “But I’m not sure it would be… flashy.”

“Nah, flashy isn’t really your style,” Kushina agreed. “I figured I’d just give you something from the ol’ vault.”

“‘The vault’?” Tori repeated.

“An Uzushio technique,” Kushina clarified.

“But isn’t that…” Tori started, and then was unsure how to finish her sentence.

The Konoha school of fuuinjutsu— which was ultimately closest to what Tori had ended up teaching herself, since her main instructor at the very beginning of her convoluted journey was Orochimaru— was the most similar amongst shinobi villages to traditional Uzushio practices, due to generations of intellectual trade between Uzushio and various Fire Country shinobi clans, especially the Senju.

Konoha fuuinjutsu and Uzushio fuuinjutsu weren’t synonymous though. A lot of Uzushio practices had been completely lost. Kushina had immigrated to Konoha with an entire trunk of scrolls, and one of her long term projects as Konoha’s head of fuuinjutsu was hunting down and recovering Uzushio techniques for preservation. These techniques were highly prized and rarely taught even to Konoha ninja, and Tori was barely even Konoha.

“Isn’t that like… for your family?” Tori asked.

Kushina frowned down at her.

“What are you talking about?” she said. “You’re my student. Of course I’m teaching you my techniques.”

Kushina did proceed to kick Tori’s ass for the next two hours, except instead of just hitting things at her, Kushina threw in some “what do you think of THIS technique?” moves. The training ground ended up completely ripped to shreds. Afterwards, Kushina lined up a bunch of scrolls containing the techniques which had nearly just murdered Tori and went over the pros and cons.

“I want something more subtle,” Tori said, clutching her bruised ribs, because what the fuck?

“No,” Kushina chided, “it has to be big and flashy, you know! We went over this!”

Tori was assigned a scroll and sent off to study it.

xXx

Tori attempted to demonstrate it for Deidara. She dropped the sealing paper into a bucket of water. The water inside twisted into gentle swirls.

“Uh huh,” Deidara said, unimpressed. He held out a hand and a clay water strider hopped onto the water’s surface. It zipped around, not the least bit disturbed by the slowly moving water.

Tori frowned and made a hand sign, attempting to add more chakra to the seal. The water picked up slightly. The clay bug was still unperturbed.

“A whirlpool, you said?” Deidara said, a mean smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

“Shut up,” Tori replied.

xXx

[...]

xXx

The problem with doing anything with Kushina was that there was a small but very real chance the Hokage would just be there.

Tori had expected to speak to him. He was their ride to and from the beach. She assumed the necessity of his presence was why she was meeting Kushina at her house and not some more central location. Tori had also assumed that Minato’s presence would be temporary.

Instead, Minato was in swim trunks and holding a large straw bag. Naruto was behind him, also in swim trunks, swinging a shovel around like some sort of weapon and making whooshing noises with his mouth.

“Uh,” Tori said.

“Don’t mind them,” Kushina replied. She was also dressed for the beach, in a mesh dress over a one piece. A pair of sunglasses sat on top of her head. She held a second straw bag in her hands. “They’ll just be hanging out.”

“But…” the protest died on Tori’s lips. It was an extreme act of favoritism for her to get to go to a beach for training for a day. It would be rude to complain that Minato and Naruto also wanted to hang out with Kushina. “Okay.”

The beach Minato teleported them to was on an island, out in the middle of nowhere off the southern coast of Fire Country. Unlike a lot of his Hiraishin markers, this one was not here as the result of a war mission, because this place had seen no fighting.

The marker he took them to was in an old outpost building on the eastern most point of the island, left over from generations ago during the warring clans ers, when there was fear of an attack from the sea in this area. But since Konoha had unified all the ninja in Fire Country, all the in-fighting had halted. The only true risk of attack came from Water Country, and there were more and better placed outposts to monitor their waters. This building was abandoned and basically falling apart, and only good for providing shade.

“Remember when your dad abandoned us here,” Kushina was saying to Naruto, tone humorous, “and it stormed, and we had to hide inside for hours?”

“Oooh yeah,” Naruto nodded knowingly, “because he had an ‘emergency meeting’ about something dumb, and he said he’d come right back, but then he didn’t.”

“The fruit vendors’ union was in a state of extreme duress,” Kushina said solemnly.

“They’re never going to let me live that one down,” Minato said to Tori with a good humored smile.

Kushina led them down the beach and around to the side of the island that faced the mainland. There were barely any waves on this side of the island, and the tide was far in enough that there was only a thin strip of white sand between the water and the tree line. Naruto kicked joyfully in the shallow water, running ahead and then running back.

They hung their stuff in the trees, with Kushina pulling out a belt of scrolls and strapping it around her waist.

“Is Mom going to do something cool?” Naruto said, vibrating in place.

“We can watch,” Minato said, squatting next to him. “Here.”

Naruto climbed onto his back, giggling as he went.

Oh god, I’m their entertainment, Tori thought. She did not, actually, want the Hokage to watch her embarrass herself. She didn’t even want a ten year old kid to watch her.

(Maybe she especially didn’t want the ten year old kid watching her? Little kids could be mean and judgemental, and Minato had taught Obito. He’d definitely seen more embarrassing stuff than whatever Tori was about to fail at.)

They walked out over the water. It was shallow for a long while, and the water was clear enough that Tori could see all sorts of big rocks waiting to appear when the tide went out. When they reached deeper water, the water beneath them suddenly went dark.

“Don’t like that,” Naruto said, squinting down at it. It was kind of spooky, Tori privately agreed.

Kushina motioned for them to stop, then walked out further by herself. Then she turned to them and pulled a scroll from her belt.

“Okay!” she called. “Get ready!”

She then bounded backwards, putting even more distance between them, and tossed the scroll out from herself. It unrolled at her feet and across the surface of the water, and then ink rapidly crawled out from it. Tori squinted at it. It looked like the lines of characters crawled out from the scroll and then sank into the water.

There was maybe a thirty second delay between Kushina unrolling the scroll and then the water in front of them suddenly moving. It swept sideways, and then grew in velocity such that both Tori and Minato had to leap back to avoid being swept away. The giant whirlpool’s center dipped down into the water. If they’d started off closer to Kushina, Tori wasn’t sure she would have been able to escape being sucked in. If Tori hadn’t known exactly what was going to happen and not been warned, she probably wouldn’t have expected the attack to have this sort of range and not backed off quick enough.

“Whoa!” Naruto cried. “Mom’s so cool!”

“Right?” Minato replied.

Kushina skirted the edge of the whirlpool back to them.

“Ta-da!” she said, throwing her hands in the air. She had to pitch her voice loud over the sound of the water. “These used to be all around Uzushio, to keep people out. And we used to use little ones to fish. But I don’t see why you couldn’t use it for that very flashy attack you want, Tori, right?”

Tori hadn’t actually wanted a flashy attack, but she didn’t point that out with the guy who ordered her to be flashy standing right there.

“You’re going to use that in a fight?” Naruto asked, peering down at Tori from his perch on his father’s back. “I thought you were the lame one on your team.”

“Naruto,” Kushina scolded immediately.

“That’s the plan,” Tori told Naruto, unperturbed. “I’m supposed to convince everyone I’m cool.”

“I thought you were just going to win the tournament,” Naruto said. “Everyone would think you’re cool if you won.”

Oh god, what has Kushina-sensei been saying about me? Tori wondered. Outloud, she said, “Sometimes the goal of a fight isn’t to win.”

“Really?” Naruto asked, wrinkling his nose like this was perplexing. He aimed his question at the back of Minato’s head rather than Tori.

“She’s right,” Minato said. “You and I can talk about it more when we go make a sand castle.”

“She is going to win though, you know,” Kushina said, hands on hips.

“Just keep in mind the goal is to show off fuuinjutsu,” Minato said, turning to Tori. “You want the audience to see what you’re doing. Don’t be sneaky.”

“What?” Tori said. She pointed at the whirlpool. “That took like half a minute to activate. How am I supposed to use it without being sneaky?”

“Thirty seconds is pretty fast for a genin,” Minato said.

Tori chewed her lip, unsure how to answer. So he thought she’d be even slower? How did pointing that out help her?

“It would also be good for PR if you seemed…” Minato arranged Naruto on his back awkwardly. “I don’t know, peppy?”

“Peppy?” Kushina repeated with a barking laugh.

“I don’t know, what makes people want to hire a teenaged girl?” Minato asked.

“Coolness,” Naruto said immediately.

“Oh, you think she should be cute?” Kushina said, frowning slightly. She tapped her chin. “Tori, you can be charming for a couple hours, right?”

“No?” Tori tried, voice cracking. Well, probably if she was playing off a specific person. But she had no idea how to charm a whole audience and then also do all this crazy combat stuff at the same time.

“I’m sure you can manage,” Minato said, smiling at her with more confidence than his opinion deserved. “C’mon, Naruto, let’s go play.”

He left. Tori watched them, and when they were back at the beach, she asked:

“Did you give Deidara this many caveats?”

“Hm?” Kushina said. “No, of course not. You think Deidara could be anything but a screaming maniac in a fight? We just told him not to kill anyone and figured the explosions would make anyone want to hire him.”

Wow, Tori thought as Kushina turned to deactivate her whirlpool. I can’t believe marketability is this important to being a ninja.

Tori spent the rest of the morning squatting on the water with scrolls in her lap, making seals for whirlpools while Kushina stood over her with arms crossed. The seal required a certain amount of chakra manipulation from the user, which wasn’t the way Tori liked to design her own seals, and her misunderstanding of this was what had been causing her problems. It took several tries to get an actual whirlpool.

It was… very small, only the size of her palm. It was almost cute.

“Well, it worked,” Tori deadpanned. “Could I catch fish in it?”

“Absolutely not,” Kushina said, but her tone was good-humored. “You definitely got the jutsu down though; good job. You just need to put in more chakra to make it bigger.”

“More chakra?” Tori asked, peering up at Kushina. She did a few calculations in her head. If the amount of chakra was proportional to the size of the whirlpool… “I’m not sure I even have enough chakra to make a whirlpool as big as yours.”

“Eh, you probably won’t even have that much water,” Kushina said dismissively. “Do it again, and we’ll see how big you can make it.”

Tori went back to the shore for lunch feeling deeply dissatisfied and weak-limbed from chakra loss. Naruto ran over to them the second Kushina’s foot hit the shore, Minato following him.

“It’s not a big deal,” Kushina said as she unpacked their food. “Lots of jutsu have high chakra costs, and shinobi deal with that everyday. Minato, how many times can you use rasengan in one fight?”

Presumably because the limitations of a Hokage’s signature jutsu were state secrets, Minato took a long chug of water instead of answering.

“I don’t like it,” Tori muttered, accepting a bento box. “It doesn’t feel… safe. I’d rather use algae chakra or something.”

“Okay, this isn’t going to be life or death, you know,” Kushina said. “This is a perfectly safe opportunity to get comfortable with risk assessment for when you can or should use a chakra-heavy technique or not.”

“She’s right,” Minato agreed. “Our relations with Kiri are good. This isn’t going to be like your other exam. No one’s going to try and kill you.”

I don’t think that’s true, Tori thought. People were always trying to kill her. It was part of her charm.

“Are you worried about pushing through a fight low on chakra?” Kushina asked, settling down on a beach towel with her own lunch. Naruto plopped down next to her, immediately getting sand all over the towel.

“No, I’m confident I can handle that,” Tori said. She didn’t favor chakra-heavy techniques, but she’d definitely fucked up a lot of jutsu experiments and spent way more chakra than she meant, and being in Oto ment sometimes you just had to do a task post losing all your chakra to an experiment.

“Good,” Kushina said, nodding to herself. “Because I know you’ve been sparring with Deidara, and… well, I don’t think he or I are good for advice on that.”

Tori snorted. No, she didn’t think they would be.

“Do ninja have to fight a lot with no chakra?” Naruto asked, sounding concerned.

Minato, seated on his own towel rolled out next to them, poked Naruto’s leg with one foot.

“You probably won’t have that problem,” Minato said. “Because you’re your mother’s son. But yes, it’s normal to have to do a mission low on chakra, or tired, or hungry.”

“That sounds like it sucks,” Naruto said, frowning. “Why would you assign a mission that sucks?”

Minato grinned back at him. “Well, I try really hard to make missions as easy as possible, but sometimes things go wrong.”

“Like a storm during the fruit vendor union’s meeting,” Kushina said brightly.

“Er. Yes, like that…”

Tori sat on her own towel across from them, eating in silence as she watched the family tease each other. It seemed wild they were all being this nonchalant while she was freaking out. Then again, why would they care about her, when they had their own little happy family to concern themselves with?

The problem with practicing high-chakra techniques was that Tori had already spent so much chakra that not even resting and eating had recouped enough to make anything besides a tiny whirlpool. She was done with that training for the day, whether she wanted to be or not.

“I guess Minato can take you home, if you want,” Kushina said. “Or you can stay. Have you ever been on a beach before, Tori?”

Tori hadn’t seen a beach in years. Tori did actually quite like the beach; she probably would have been overjoyed if she hadn’t come here already stressed and upset. She agreed to stay.

The tide had gone out, leaving a wide stretch of wet sand that glinted in the sunlight, algae-covered boulders, and shallow tide pools. Tori watched the Namikaze-Uzumaki family walk out over it, led by Naruto’s screams of delight.

Tori stripped off her kunoichi dress, down to her bathing suit, and kicked off her sandals. She’d been swimming in plenty of rivers and lakes, but she’d missed the sensation of sand between her toes.

“Whoa!” Naruto cried. “Look at this guy!”

He held up a horseshoe crab. Tori jogged over to them, eager to look at it herself.

“They have blue blood,” she told Naruto excitedly. He looked up at her curiously. “Because their blood cells use copper as an oxygen carrier instead of iron. Isn’t that cool?”

Naruto’s face of wonder at the idea of blue blood shifted to confusion. Tori wasn’t sure this kid had understood a single thing she’d told him, possibly ever. Kushina laughed at them.

They spent the afternoon combing the tide pools for cool little creatures. Kushina knew the names for almost all of them, from the two different types of mudskippers they unearthed, to a bunch of different types of crabs, to a handful of sea cucumbers, to a rainbow of anemones and seaweeds.

“Tide pool hopping was my favorite game, back in Uzushio, you know,” Kushina told Tori with a hint of sadness in her voice. She held up the tiny hermit crab in her palm. “I used to keep a bunch of these. I was always hoping they’d move into the prettier shells I’d find for them. They never did, though.”

She laughed, but the sound was quieter than Kushina’s laughs usually were.

Tori opened her mouth to say she’d always begged her parents for a hermit crab when she was a kid, because she liked the painted shells seaside shops sold with them. The story died on her lips before she could make a single syllable. That part of her life was way over. She only ever let herself think about it in the darkest part of the night now.

Instead she said, “Yeah, tide pools are super cool. I like reading about them. I’m glad I could see them in person.”

Kushina grinned at her.

“I’m lucky I can still share stuff like this with my family,” Kushina said, voice brighter now. She gently replaced the hermit crab on the edge of its tide pool. “If you ever want to join us again, sometimes we also go to a mainland beach in…”

Kushina babbled. At some point, Minato disappeared and reappeared with a bunch of popsicles. Tori found a spiral of shark eggs and attempted to convince a giggling Naruto he should eat them. They went back to their things only to discover biting ants had invaded all of their bags.

“We could put out food and draw them away!” Naruto said, a handful of chips from their lunch suddenly in his hands.

“Do not do that,” Minato yelped, grabbing for Naruto’s wrist.

They went home all covered in ant bites. Apparently not even a Kage could win against mother nature.

Tori walked home with a smile on her face, happy with her afternoon. It wasn’t until she was home and heating up water for instant noodles that she realized she hadn’t actually solved any of her problems. She could make a medium whirlpool now, but she’d only get one shot at it, and she had no idea how to approach that.

Oh god, she thought, heartbeat suddenly increasing. And I only have two weeks left!

xXx

Kushina and Deidara just spammed high-chakra techniques as much as they wanted. They wouldn’t be good for advice. But Tori did have another teammate.

Itachi was annoyingly hard to track down nowadays. He took a lot of away missions in ANBU, which Minato was tightlipped about with even Kushina, so that route of tracking his movements was limited. If Tori wanted to find him, she had to talk to his family, which she always felt super awkward about.

“He didn’t give us a return date, dear,” Mikoto told her when she answered the door, smile serene. Tori wondered if she seemed dumb in Mikoto’s eyes. Yes, she knew ANBU agents often couldn’t say when they’d be back. She just thought she’d ask on the off chance that he had!

Mikoto offered to let her stay for tea. Tori fled as quickly and politely as she could.

Tori started doing increasingly unhinged things, like watching the Academy when it let out because she knew Itachi liked picking up Sasuke and would prioritize getting home in time to do it if he could. She spent a lot of time haunting the outside of ANBU HQ and Itachi’s favorite bakery. None of these things, her anxiety-riddled brain pointed out, helped her train at all.

She didn’t even find Itachi doing this. Instead, Kakashi tapped her on the shoulder while she was sneaking into the ANBU breakroom after hours.

“Fantastically illegal activities you’re up to, my sweet ninja sibling,” he drawled.

Tori had basically jumped out of her skin, but she’d managed not to scream. God, Kakashi could hide his presence completely.

“I’m trying to find Itachi,” she said, voice strangled. Then she cocked her head to the side as she considered Kakashi. “Actually, maybe you can help instead. Got a few minutes for some mentoring?”

Kakashi was in full ANBU uniform, so she couldn’t see his face. He did lean back slightly, regarding her. She knew that, despite his posturing about calling Team 4 his “siblings,” Kakashi was pretty hit-or-miss about actually wanting to hang out with anyone at all. He liked privacy and was allergic to intimacy, and she had no idea if helping a genin out of the goodness of his heart was pushing it or not.

After a long, awkward silence, Kakashi finally said. “Alright. Give me twenty minutes to shower and change.”

He sent her to a nearby teahouse to meet and then didn’t show up for another forty-five minutes. The tea Tori ordered for them was lukewarm by the time he walked in.

“I became lost in thought in the shower,” he said dreamily.

“Gross,” Tori told him.

Kakashi blinked lethargically at her. “I did not imply that at all, my dirty-minded sibling.”

Tori cut to the chase, explaining her current mess of a situation to him. She was supposed to win a bunch of fights, act charming and cool while she did it, and on top of all that, she had to use a high-chakra fuuinjutsu technique she was unlikely to get comfortable with in the current timeframe.

“What… exactly… are you asking for advice on?” Kakashi asked when she was finished.

“You end up with chakra exhaustion a lot,” Tori said pointblank. “I guess I was wondering… I don’t know, how do you deal with not having enough chakra for your own techniques?”

“Hmm,” Kakashi said, drumming his fingers on the table between them. “You know, you’re right. Maybe being charming and ‘peppy’ is impossible for you. That was pretty mean.”

Tori kicked him under the table.

“I still don’t understand what you’re torn up about,” Kakashi said, his eye crinkling up in a teasing grin at her. “When I met you, you had no accessible chakra, and that didn’t slow you down at all. Why does the idea of spending it all on one technique upset you so much?”

“I guess…” Tori fidgeted with the cup in her hands. “If I just had to win a fight, that would be one thing. But I’m supposed to do a very specific thing, and I’ll only really get one shot at it.”

“Ah,” Kakashi said. There was a long pause. Then he said, “I am trying to think of a joke appropriate for a fourteen year old.”

“Gross!” Tori laughed.

“Maa,” Kakashi said. “Unfortunately I don’t think there’s a very good answer to your conundrum. If you screw up, you screw up. Any big technique is like that. If it helps, you’re at a normal part of any ninja’s journey.”

Tori wasn’t… she wasn’t a proper ninja, though. She felt like a pretender, a fake, a kid playing make believe. She had no idea how to communicate this to Kakashi without sounding completely insane.

“I think maybe,” Kakashi continued, leaning back in his seat, “you’re more anxious because it’s not your original technique, so you’re not as confident with it. You’re used to having done all the development and troubleshooting yourself, and the lack of control on that end is freaking you out.”

“...Huh,” Tori said. That… that definitely could be part of it.

“I’m not the person to ask about original techniques,” Kakashi drawled. “But I will say that the key to mastering someone else’s technique is to make it your own. You don’t have to use it exactly the way Kushina does. You have to figure out how to make it work with your style.”

“That’s actually really helpful,” Tori said with a weak smile. “Thanks, Kakashi.”

“Anytime,” Kakashi replied, and then disappeared into a puff of smoke, leaving her with the bill.

xXx

Tori felt slightly at peace for a few more days, spending time analyzing the jutsu scroll and cross-referencing pieces of it with her research materials. This seemed closer to who she actually was. It soothed her.

Then Deidara spiked her anxiety all over again by showing her a lease he’d signed. There was another line with an X next to it, for her to sign as well.

“I haven’t even seen the apartment,” Tori said, feeling hysterical. Why was everyone making all these insane decisions for her?!

“It’s cool, I promise,” Deidara said. “But we have to sign quick. The landlord only gave me a couple days to decide, yeah.”

Tori leafed through the lease furiously. The address was in a really nice neighborhood, the square footage was impressive, and the lease listed patio furniture among assets they’d be liable for, implying the existence of that outdoor space she wanted. Half the total rent would be a huge stretch even on a chunin salary, and she might not even get that.

“I’m willing to divide up rent proportional to our salaries, but I get the bigger bedroom,” Deidara said.

“Even if I stay a genin?” Tori snapped. She shoved the paper and the pen at him.

“You’re not going to stay a genin, yeah,” he replied, annoyed, and shoved it back at her.

“The average age of promotion is fifteen,” Tori said, her voice cracking embarrassingly. “Thirty percent of shinobi never even make chunin.”

Tori had less than a week to prepare before heading out. She felt like she needed months to practice as much as she wanted, and she didn’t have the time or energy to deal with this. And yet, she found herself skipping her training ground booking to take a tour of an apartment.

“Be quick,” the landlord said. “The current tenants only agreed to thirty minutes.”

The apartment was really nice. Nicer than she’d even ever considered an apartment could be, really. All three of the bedrooms and their own narrow balconies, not quite enough for furniture but enough for a potted plant and to step out onto in the morning, and there was a rooftop terrace.

“We could make this one an office,” Deidara said, gesturing at the smallest bedroom, which was the size of a very determined closet and currently done up as a baby room. The current tenants wanted an actual house for their growing family, apparently.

Deidara could easily afford a pretty nice apartment on a Jounin salary, even if he had zero savings to fall back on. Tori assumed his insistence on her rooming with him was the little income bump to get him something even better than “pretty nice.” He probably felt like he deserved it, after all those years as a feral forest child.

She certainly couldn’t afford anything approaching this good on her own. If she wanted anything bigger than her dorm room on her own, she’d have to either get incredibly lucky or look in one of the shittier outer neighborhoods, which was why she hadn’t done it.

When they were done with the tour, the landlord stared expectantly at them. Deidara cleared his throat and looked meaningfully at her.

Oh, so he’d gotten this last minute tour because he’d promised the landlord she’d sign.

Tori low-key felt like flipping them both off and stomping off. Her hand balled into a fist.

“The café on the corner is supposed to have the best coffee in Konoha, yeah,” Deidara said, eyes glinting.

“Fine,” Tori seethed. “I’ll sign.”

If she didn’t make chunin, her life really was going to turn into a shit show.

So long, take-out lunches, she thought as she signed her life away.

As they walked back to the dorms, Tori actually thought a little harder about what they’d just done. She’d never rented an apartment herself before, but Deidara had been working on moving out since he made chunin. She’d listened to a lot of rants about biases landlords had against younger ninja, even if they had high salaries. Usually ninja got charged high, multi-month deposits, to cover the landlord in case the renter should randomly die. It prevented younger ninja, who didn’t have savings, from renting higher-end places even if they could afford the monthly rent.

“There wasn’t anything in the lease about a deposit,” Tori said, confused. Was that a separate thing she’d also suddenly have shoved in front of her? “Or… key money?”

Deidara beamed at her. “I found a way around that! I just got a cosigner to cover us, yeah.”

“Cosigner…?” Tori repeated. “That wasn’t on the lease…”

“Yeah, usually that’d be in there and it wouldn’t get you out of a deposit,” Deidara agreed. “But turns out you can get away with anything with a letter from Hokage-sama, yeah!”

Tori stopped dead in her tracks. Oh good, now if she didn’t make chunin, the Hokage would know she couldn’t make rent.

“What?” Deidara said, putting his hand on his hip. “You wanted to read his note too? Tori, you're such a nerd–”

Tori resisted the urge to scream.

xXx

Itachi finally found her two days before she was set to leave. He found her setting up at the training ground she had booked for the morning.

“Both my mother and Kakashi-sempai said you were looking for me,” he said, eyeing the line of bamboo poles she set out in the packed dirt.

“Yeah,” Tori said, pointing accusingly at him. “You are impossible to find, asshole.”

“I apologize,” Itachi said, not sounding the least sorry. “I’ve been… increasingly uncomfortable at home, and have been taking longer missions.”

Tori squinted at him. She’d thought Danzo being gone would make his family situation better, not worse.

“Is something wrong?” she asked carefully.

Itachi, being an uncommunicative asshole, just shook his head. He didn’t look any more stressed than he usually did: he had killer bags under his eyes, but that was his normal state of being. His hair was recently washed and shiny, not gross from too much time on missions and not enough time with shower access. His body language was calm and lacked the weird twitchy movements he’d get when he was trying not to lose his shit on someone.

He was at least physically taking care of himself, then. She had no idea what went on in his messed up little brain, but Sasuke had seemed perfectly happy and sociable those days she’d clandestinely stalked him, which was a good predictor of Itachi’s anxiety levels.

“Did you want something from me?” Itachi prompted.

“Oh,” Tori said. “Kakashi ended up helping me out, actually.”

She briefly explained her current conundrum.

“Kiri?” Itachi asked, and Tori noted he brightened ever so much. This was basically the Itachi version of perking up like a dog hearing the treat bag rustle. It was almost cute.

“Yeah,” Tori said. “The other thing I wanted to ask was if you want me to tell you-know-who anything.”

“Hmm, no,” Itachi said, without the slightest hint of malice in his voice.

“Really?”

“If I had something to say,” Itachi said blandly, “I would simply send a crow.”

Tori’s lips thinned. Itachi was… not a very good friend, in her opinion. But it also wasn’t in her place to micromanage his friendship with Kisame.

“Perhaps you can ask how he’s doing,” Itachi said mildly. “I would like to know.”

That was… that was cute, actually.

“Sure,” Tori agreed.

Itachi next turned back to her bamboo poles.

“Is this for your mission?” he asked.

“Mm,” Tori said. “I’m making an overly complicated jutsu to look cool. Wanna help? I need someone to swing a sword at me.”

Itachi was happy to comply. He was, Tori abruptly remembered, a terrifying person to have swing a sword at you.

But she did get her jutsu working.

#reborn au #toriverse #my writing

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