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#the federation would have a FIELD DAY
laney-rockin · 8 months
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I feel like the only reason why the concept of Kirk and Spock being married/soulmates in actual canon isn't discussed in universe is because Spock never says shit about any of his personal lore and Kirk can keep a secret if prompted (ie. his own fucking child)
Let's imagine for years that those two dorks were married. Do you think they'd tell people? Absolutely not! They'd probably forget and only relay that information if they were dying. Dramatic ass bitches the two of them.
Also I feel like they'd also forget they never told anyone and it'd just be how they are fundamentally. Other's probably they think to themselves ofc Spock and Kirk aren't married even tho they'll kill for each other and always are oddly close for no particular reason! That's just how they be!
I feel like Bones would figure it out first cause y'know medical records. He'd probably bang his head against the wall and mutter to himself until Chapel asks if he needs to lie down.
Uhura would be so unsurprised by this though. She knew this would happen from the very first time they met and shook hands. Uhura knows okay? Uhura is the best.
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dreaming-medium · 4 months
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Watch Your Six
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Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist
Sensory Deprivation - Han Jisung
Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader
Word Count: 14.8k
Summary: After training for years, you finally become a full fledged agent for KDOI, the Korean Division of Intelligence. Over time, each and every agent becomes something like a family member, including the high-tech nerd who has managed to put a smile on your face since day one. What happens when he's sent with you on his first field mission?
Warnings: Violence, smut (18+) MDNI
A/N: Kinktober is a state of mind. I know its January idc lol I will finish the list of prompts even if it kills me
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Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. 
The sound your sneakers make on the treadmill reverberates through the gym. The expensive, high tech plastic mask strapped to your face fogs up with each exhale and clears with each inhale. 
To your right, a man holds a clipboard, glasses covered eyes watching your vitals displayed on the monitor hooked up to the mask and other various wires clipped to your body. 
You’ve been running for about an hour straight, but your breathing is still even; and just by glancing down at the screen, your heart rate looks the same. 
For months, you’ve been training with the federal agency to be one of their field agents. Countless nights were spent pushing yourself to the limit, physically and mentally. 
Today was your final evaluation before becoming a full-fledged agent. You were selected out of the hundreds of trainees to test to move on. 
It was a great honor, all your hard work was finally paying off. 
Maybe you’ll get your first mission after this! 
If you pass. 
A small bead of sweat drops down the side of your face. 
Bored, your eyes wander over to the man studying your every heartbeat. 
The thick rimmed glasses that sat on his face have slid down his nose a bit. His lips seem to sit in a constant pout thanks to those pudgy cheeks of his. 
Choppy, fluffy brown hair sits on his head like a mop. You can tell he’s run his fingers through it more than a handful of times to get it out of his eyes. 
A crisp white lab coat rests over a hoodie and khaki pants. A few different pens and instruments sit in the pocket under an embroidered ‘J’ .
You’ve seen him around the trainees once or twice in the years you’ve been here. From what you’ve gathered, he was one of the technical experts, providing countless gadgets and gizmos for the field agents to use. 
The guy that would give the secret agent a lipstick taser before embarking on their world class espionage mission. 
He’s pretty and smart— what a lethal combination. 
When the man looks back up at the treadmill, your eyes flick back to dead ahead of you. 
Reaching forward, he hits the stop button on the treadmill and jots down a few notes on his clipboard, a tiny smile pulls at his handsome face. 
The treadmill comes to a gradual stop and so do your legs. One hour exactly sits on the clock. 
Nervously, you look down at the screens, to his monitor, looking at anything you can. 
“You did extremely well, 586.” There’s a happy tilt to his tone while he scribbles down some more notes, flipping the page, then writing some more. “You can take the mask off now.”
Nodding, you gently take the mask off your face and drape it over the top of the treadmill. 
“I have one more examination for you.” He clicks a few buttons on the computer to the side.
Patiently, you stand there waiting for instruction. 
He looks up at you with amusement glinting in his big, brown eyes. “You don’t need to be so stiff with me, 586, that’s not part of the tests.”
Your shoulders relax and sag forward a bit. “Sorry, I’m just a bit nervous.”
“Understandable.” He grabs a hold of the cart with the machines on it and rolls it to the side. “Most, if not all, trainees are during their examination. I can’t remember a trainee that wasn’t nervous— well, maybe M, but he’s a special case.”
“Are you J?” you ask, looking down at his lab coat. 
“I am,” he answers and steps closer to the treadmill.
He reaches forward and unsnaps the wires hooked onto the leads on your chest. The sticker part stays on, but the wires are removed. Which means you’ll probably be hooked up to another machine soon. 
“I’ve seen you around before,” you say to him, studying his face up close. 
“I’m always around everywhere,” he jokes, unhooking more wires. “I don’t think there’s a square inch of this agency I haven’t seen.”
“Are you a field agent?”
He scoffs. “No, not me. I could never handle that.”
“But you’re an agent.”
He moves his head side to side. “Of sorts, yeah. B needed a tech guy, so technically I’m an agent. But if you were to send me on a mission, I might cry. I leave those sorts of things up to C or S, or any one of the other agents. Just not me.”
You nod with a small smile of your own. 
“Follow me.”
Following his orders, you step off the treadmill and follow after him out of the gym. 
“Is there only one of each letter?” you ask.
J laughs. “Actually, yeah.” He leads you towards a side room, it looks like an interrogation room with a large contraption on the center of the table. “It’s easier that way.”
He motions for you to take a seat across the table. 
“And unless you fail this psych evaluation, I believe we’re going to be back to 26 again.” J starts fiddling with the machine, pulling wires and leads off the top. 
A happy pang goes through your heart. Thank god he hasn’t hooked up the heart monitor yet, he would’ve seen it skyrocket. 
“You think?” Nervously, you shift around in the chair. 
J chuckles. “I do. I haven’t seen a perfect exam like this in a while. Plus, we saw all the extra training you were putting in.”
Your mouth opens a bit in shock. J looks over at you, holding the wires ready to snap to the leads on your chest. 
“We have eyes everywhere, 586. Did you really think we didn’t see that?”
An embarrassed flush crawls on your neck and turns your ears red. “Of course, I know that.” 
Again, he chuckles and snaps all the wires to the leads. His fingers are warm in contrast with the cold air of the exam room. Each time his knuckles brush against your skin the feeling lingers. 
He places a strap around your head that has two metal leads pressing into your forehead. Even more wires from that strap lead down to the detector. 
J looks down at the wires and then turns on the machine. It whirrs to life and a needle starts scribbling out your heart rate on the top. 
It’s a lie detector. Of sorts. It looks like more than that. 
You’re not going to pretend to understand anything, though. That’s his job. 
His eyes watch the needle, he then reaches forward and clips a small cuff on your finger— a steady beeping follows it. 
“There we go,” he mutters to himself and takes a seat across from you. 
J shuffles papers around on the clipboard to rearrange them. 
A large mirror sat on the wall behind him. There’s no way that’s not one way glass. Is there anyone on the other side watching your evaluation? Or is it just the two of you? Is there another higherup keeping track of your answers? Maybe it’s B? Or maybe other agents are spectating to see how you are. 
You would be working closely with them, after all. If the roles were reversed, you’re sure you would watch. 
“Ready?” J’s voice interrupts your thoughts. 
Your eyes snap to him and you nod. 
“Is your name Y/N L/N?” he asks, looking down at the clipboard. 
It’s been so long since you’ve heard your real name. Two years? Yeah, two years. You’ve only been referred to as 586 since you joined. 
“Yes.” 
J looks at the contraption for a few seconds, taking note of the way it moves. He makes a small tick on the paper. 
“Can you verify your date of birth for me?”
You do as he says, saying it like second nature. Again, he repeats the same motion of watching your heart rate and making a small tick. 
The questions start out simple. Where were you born? What are your parent’s names? Do you have any siblings? All questions that you would make a security question for your bank. 
“Now, let’s get to the real questions. Just answer honestly and you have nothing to worry about, okay, 586?” J’s voice is calm and smooth. 
Something about this guy makes you want to tell him everything regardless of if you’re hooked up to several machines. 
“Have you ever been contacted by an external government agency prior to enlisting in KDOI?”
KDOI: The Korean Division of Intelligence. Your dream job since you were a young girl. 
“No.”
After your answer, J watches your heart rate for even longer than before. He makes a tick on the clipboard. 
“Have you ever been contacted by an external government agency after enlisting in KDOI?”
“No.”
Another tick. 
“Have you ever participated in an organized event that openly opposed KDOI?”
“No.”
Tick. 
“Have you ever had malicious thoughts about KDOI or the agents working within it?”
“No, quite the opposite. I admire KDOI.” You add the last part with a sheepish smile. 
J grins when he makes the next tick on the paper. 
“Next section…” he murmurs. “Have you recently had thoughts of suicide?”
“No.”
Tick. 
Question after question comes from his mouth. You answer honestly to each of them, not even hesitating to let the reply leave your lips. 
“Did you have thoughts of suicide prior to enlisting in KDOI?”
“No.”
Tick. 
“Do you ever have thoughts of harming others?”
“No.”
Tick. 
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
“N- what?” Your eyes widen and you stare at him incredulously. There’s no way that’s on the evaluation. 
J feigns ignorance and points down to the clipboard. In exaggerated movements, he motions down to it and shrugs, puffing air in his cheeks and just making a meal out of this fake performance. 
“I can’t believe it either but there it is. ‘Do you have a boyfriend?’” 
You tongue your cheek and smirk a bit. “No, J, I do not.”
J nods and scribbles down more than just a tick while looking at the heart monitor. “Interesting…” 
He makes a few last notes before his eyes widen and he looks up at you, pointing his pen in your direction. “No girlfriend either, right?”
You roll your eyes, “No, no girlfriend either.”
Isn’t this an official evaluation? For a government official secret organization that grants people a license to kill? 
He asked you if you were single immediately after asking if you’ve had thoughts of suicide. Is this guy for real?
You slow blink at him while he finishes up the form on his end. 
“Well!” he exclaims happily, hitting the clipboard on the metal table. You don’t even flinch. “I believe we’re all finished here.”
Your heart squeezes with nerves. 
J stands up from the table and rounds the table towards you. 
So badly you want to ask for the results of your exam. Are you in? Did you pass? Are you an agent?
“B needs to sign off on all the paperwork,” J trails off, his hands reaching forward to unhook all the wires from the leads stuck to your skin. “But… I don’t think there’s any issue with me welcoming you to the agency. Officially.”
Since the heart monitor was still hooked up, you can hear the needle suddenly spike and scribble large peaks on the paper. 
J turns his head to look at it. An amused smirk crosses his face and a chuckle huffs through his chest. “Funny,” he says to himself and then turns back to you. 
Sheepishly, you look away from him. 
“That’s what gets your heart rate to spike?” J sits on the corner of the table and folds his arms across his chest. 
You bite your cheek and avoid his eyes. “Well, this has been my dream job since I was a young girl; so, yes, you alluding to me becoming an official agent would raise my heart rate.”
J scoffs. His warm fingers suddenly grab your face, thumb on one cheek and his middle and pointer finger on the other. He turns your head to face him.
When your gaze snaps to his face, you see that there’s a cocky smirk on his face but his eyes are focused down on the heart monitor. The needle stays steady much to his obvious distaste. 
He sucks teeth in disbelief. “Really?”
“Is this another test?” your voice comes out muffled due to him holding your cheeks. 
J rolls his eyes with a frown. “Yeah, let’s go with that.” He releases your face and slides the strap off your head.
The leads on your chest are soon to come off after that. J is careful not to rip the sticky pads off your skin too fast so that it doesn’t sting. He rubs the site with a bit of rubbing alcohol afterwards to get rid of the residue. 
“How long have you been at the agency?” you ask. You’re curious about him. 
He defeats all the ‘Secret Agent’ stereotypes. He’s personable and warm— and a bit flirtatious. He’s not at all the cold, all-business type you were used to. That’s how more than half the trainees were. 
It’s not that you were cold, no. You just kept to yourself and worked hard. 
And you made sure your personality didn’t fade during that time either. 
J’s nose crinkles up while he thinks. His hands slow down in the process. “Hmm,” he hums. “Maybe four years now? Yeah, sounds about right.”
Your eyes widen. “Four years? How old are you?”
He smirks. “Don’t you know never to ask a young man his age.”
“I guess if you’re not going to tell me…” you trail off. “I’ll just say twenty eight then.”
“Twenty ei—!” he stammers and takes the last lead off your chest. “I’m twenty two!”
“Wasn’t so hard was it?”
J grumbles and turns around to finish putting the machine away. But there’s an amused tilt to the corner of his puffy lips and a playful glint in his eye. 
“So you started when you were eighteen?”
“Yep.”
“Child prodigy?”
“Taken right from high school.”
“Impressive.”
J laughs under his breath. “Everyone seems to think so.”
“You don’t?”
“Eh.” He shrugs. “Everyone here is a prodigy of some sort. It’s easy to blend in and somehow appear mediocre when surrounded by Korea’s most elite minds and bodies.”
“I don’t think you’re mediocre.”
“You haven’t met everyone else yet.”
He doesn’t give you a chance to answer again. J grabs your clipboard and takes the papers off it, handing them to you. 
“Bring these to B, he has to sign off on the final enlistment.” You take the stack from him. “The guard outside the door will bring you up to his office.”
You look down at the papers, your heart rate picking up faster and faster the more you think about it.
J puts his hand on your lower back and ushers you towards the door. It tingles at the base of your spine. He reaches in front of you and opens the door, motioning for you to exit first. The hand on your lower back twitches and it feels like he almost scratches it twice before urging you forward and dropping it. 
It’s weirdly comforting. 
It doesn’t feel weird at all. 
You turn back to look at him, “Thank you, J.”
He smiles. Those round cheeks get even bigger when it happens. 
“Welcome to KDOI, X .”
---------------------------------------
Two years goes by in the blink of an eye when working with a government agency. Especially when a majority of your assignments can take anywhere from a week to two months at a time. 
The agents you work with are the only constant in your life. Other faces flitter in and out of your life like leaves falling off trees. You don’t grow attached to anyone outside of this organization, you can’t afford to. 
You’re not complaining, not at all. You love the life you have now. It’s everything you ever wanted. 
Everyone at KDOI is a family, you’re all each other has. It’s an unspoken, special bond. 
When you first started, you were welcomed in with open arms. Obviously, some agents were warmer than others at first— or maybe it’s just that some were better at first impressions than others. 
Maybe other people would have been upset with M’s standoffishness when you first introduced yourself. But, after a hot coffee appeared on your desk not even five minutes after complaining about being cold to him and only him, you knew he wasn’t detached and icy at all. 
Other agents, like F, have been nothing but a ball of sunshine. He was the one you ate lunch with every single day while you were at the agency. Whilst sitting by yourself in the cafeteria on day one, he took it upon himself to plop himself in the seat right across from you. 
H is your favorite agent to go on long assignments with. He never fails to be a constant source of entertainment and intelligent conversation— with the occasional stupid ass comment that makes you question where the man you were just talking to went. 
Slowly but surely, you’ve also started learning their real names. Learning someone’s real name was apparently the equivalent of leaving you in their will around here. 
There was a time and place to refer to them as their real name. It was a line you tiptoed constantly. 
Surprisingly, it was M who told you his name first: Minho. It was completely unprompted too. It was in the jet returning from a three week mission where you had saved him from at least five different gunshot wounds by tackling him to the ground. 
The others trickled in afterwards. 
Y, or Jeongin, was shocked when you didn’t know his name. And immediately told you afterwards with a cute, wide smile on his face. 
Even though every single agent has become a part of you, one particular agent seems to have captured a larger part of your soul than the others. 
“J,” you say casually, slipping behind him to stand on the other side of his cluttered workbench. 
Jisung. He had told you his name when you had lingered in his workshop late one night, not wanting to go back to your dorm quite yet. 
“Hello, X,” he grins without looking up at you. The glasses on his nose have fallen forward.
His laptop is his primary focus, several wires are running from the computer to a tiny little gadget that looks no bigger than a cell phone. It has a small LED screen with different colored pixels bouncing around it. 
Jisung’s workshop was one of your favorite places in the agency. There was always music playing, a computer always had some sort of TV on silent with the subtitles on, and there were always snacks everywhere. 
You consider it a second dorm, really. As soon as you’re done training for the day, you usually find yourself here.
“When did you get back?” he asks, clicking a few keys and looking over at the gadget, then back to his computer. 
“Maybe two hours ago?”
“And it took you this long to come say hi?”
“I had to shower.”
“ And you didn’t invite me?” his cheeky smile gets bigger. 
You smack the back of his head, the glasses fall even more. You’re surprised they don’t tumble off his face.
If one thing has remained constant since your exam day, it’s the relentless flirting. The guy can’t go more than five minutes without saying some sort of teasing comment. 
It should bother you. 
But it doesn’t. 
At this point, you’ve gotten quite used to it. If he ever stopped, then you might be a bit concerned. You might even miss it. 
But you would never tell him that. 
Jisung makes a tiny ‘gah’ noise and rubs the back of his head in fake pain. He pushes his glasses up his nose and looks over at you. 
“I missed you so much and the first thing you do is hurt me,” he whines. 
“I wasn’t gone that long.”
“Two long months without my girlfriend.”
“ Not your girlfriend.”
He clutched his chest through his baggy black hoodie. “Another wound.”
You cross your arms and giggle a bit. “Well get used to me not being here. B is sending me on another assignment tomorrow.”
Jisung frowns. “I know, he asked me to be at your debrief tomorrow morning.” He lets out a whine. “You just got back! Usually you’re around for at least two weeks in between missions.”
Shrugging, you look around the room. The digital clock on the wall read 10:29 PM. He’s usually the only one in here past 5:30, he tends to lose track of time easily when working on projects. 
“It’s part of the job,” you say casually. 
Jisung grumbles again, looking down at his laptop once more. “Yeah, well it sucks. Everyone’s always coming and going. Meanwhile I’m stuck here all day every day.”
“I thought you didn’t do field work.”
“I don’t . I just also hate that I’m trapped here while everyone gets to travel with one another.”
You narrow your eyes. “You do know we’re not sightseeing, right?”
Jisung balks. “Of course I know that.” He pauses. “But I did see that picture that you and Changbin took at Buckingham Palace.”
You bite your lip to stop the smile. “Not my fault it just so happened to be by our hotel.”
“Bang said if we had a Christmas card he would use that picture.”
The smile you’re fighting gets even bigger. You hesitate before speaking up again. “It’s a good picture.”
Jisung’s head drops and he places both of his hands on the table. “See what I mean?” he groans. 
“Just tell Bang that you want field work.”
Jisung’s head shoots up and he stares at you with wide eyes. “I would die in the field!”
“You would not. One of us would be there to save your hide. You really think Minho would let you die?”
“I think he would load the gun himself.”
A laugh bubbles up in your chest. Uncrossing your arms, you turn around and lean against the table. 
“Ji, we would make sure you were safe if you were to come out in the field with us. It’s our job.”
“Your job is to carry out the mission.”
“I wouldn’t give a damn about the mission if your life was on the line.”
Jisung’s mouth snaps shut. His eyebrows fly up his forehead. 
The two of you stare at each other for a long moment. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his knuckles turn white from gripping the counter so hard. 
His Adam’s Apple bobs with a gulp. 
You shouldn’t have said something like that, shouldn’t you? Your job is to carry out government missions. Personal feelings should never be put first, you know that. 
So why did you say that?
Fuck, you shouldn’t have said that. 
The shock on Jisung’s face quickly morphs into a cocky smirk. It’s a mask. You can see in his eyes he’s still a bit shocked. 
“I knew you were in love with me.”
Groaning, you roll your eyes and push off the table. “I’m going back to my dorm to sleep. Goodnight, J.”
Your hand slides to his lower back and you scratch twice over his lab coat and hoodie. 
Ever since your exam day, the two of you do this small gesture to each other all the time. It could be when he passes behind you in the cafe line or comes up behind you in the training room. It’s such a tiny, personal gesture. 
Sometimes on the coldest nights in the field, you’ll find yourself aching for that small touch.
“You’re so head over heels in love with me, X!” he calls after you, again, clutching at his heart and overacting like he’s swooning. 
“I’m leaving!”
“You just got here!” he whines. 
“Bye.”
“I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you walk away, X!”
“Night!” you repeat, letting the door shut after you. 
You walk down the hallway of the agency with a goofy smile on your face. 
“Idiot,” you mumble to yourself. 
---------------------------------------
B’s office was at the very top of the large building, the windows overlooked the entirety of Seoul. Everything inside the office exuded money and power. The wood of the bookshelves was black and sleek and always dust free. 
Inside the office was so large there was an entire sitting area with two sofas and two loveseats around a coffee table. 
There was always a bergamot candle burning on a side table there. 
It was just about 10 AM when you stepped inside. 
“Ah, X, thank you so much for coming in.” B stands up from his large desk chair to welcome you in. 
Bang Chan, the leader of KDOI, and the most unassuming man you’ve ever met. When you brought him your final exam paperwork that fateful day you thought you were in the wrong office. 
This whole time you were expecting a wrinkly old man, not a twenty-something with dimples. 
But, at this point, you’ve learned to not be surprised by anything anymore. 
Maybe you were surprised at the fact that the other man in the room made no move to even look at you. 
Jisung sat in the other chair in front of the desk, his face sheet white. Both of his hands are gripped in tight fists on top of his pants. 
Your warm smile fades from your face as you take in his ghastly expression. 
“What’s going on?” you ask. 
Chan’s lips form a tight line as he motions to the chair for you to sit in. “I was going over your next assignment with J before you got here.”
“Apologies, am I late?”
“No, not at all. I had J come in a little early to talk to him one on one.”
You glance over at Jisung who looks like he hasn’t even blinked. Alarm bells are going off inside your head. Not even a nod in your direction?
“What’s this assignment about, B?” You look back to your boss. 
He slides a manilla envelope across the desk to you, you take it without a second thought. Chan picks up a tiny remote off his desk and presses a button. Shades slowly come down over the window, bathing the room in darkness. Another beep on the remote and a holographic screen projects from the floor next to the desk. 
Both you and Chan turn your chairs to go over the debrief, Jisung stays still. Part of you wants to snap your fingers in front of his face to see if he’s still alive or not. 
Instead, you focus on your job. 
“I know you’re used to more recoup time, but I’m afraid this assignment is pretty urgent.” Chan clicks the remote. A grainy CCTV picture is displayed on the screen. “The international gang you’ve been dealing with lately, the Ice Crows, have shown their face again.”
Chan zooms in on the image. Several higher ups of the gang are getting out of a black SUV. They’re all dressed in fancy suits smoking cigars. 
The last time you dealt with them was about five months ago when their trail had gone cold over in Canada. 
“When and where was this taken?” you ask. 
“Yesterday. Paris. Where you and J will be headed after this.”
Your head snaps over to look at Chan. 
With Jisung? No wonder the guy looked like he was eight inches from death!
Your eyes slide to the engineer, he’s still staring forward. A cold sweat on his brow. 
“J is coming with me?”
Chan points your attention back to the debrief. “Allow me to continue.”
You spare one last look Jisung. The poor guy is shaking in his boots. Your hands itch to reach out and comfort him, but you have to remain professional. 
That’s for after the debrief. 
“There’s an auction being held at the Palais des Congrès. Several large and important pieces are being shown there. Including…” Bang switches the slides and displays an expensive painting. “The Refuge, which was stolen no more than two months ago by the Ice Crows. They’re putting it up for auction when it belongs back in Korea.”
Your eyes narrow. “This seems like a pretty rookie cut and dry assignment, B. You need me to get the painting back. I don’t understand why J has to come with me, he doesn’t do field work.”
The conversation the two of you had the previous night echoes in your mind. 
B nods. “I know. Let me get there, X.” He switches the slide to display the floor plan of the museum. “This convention center is rather high tech, as you can see. It’s equipped with blockers that don’t allow any outside waves to make it past their walls. Any and all technical communication has to come within the building.”
“So, you’re sending J with me because he’s the only one that can operate field equipment? S can operate simple transmitters and trackers.”
“It’s more than that, X. The painting will be behind several different firewalls and security systems that not even S can hack through. J needs to be with you and he needs to be in that building.”
You take a deep breath and look over at Jisung. His hundred yard stare has moved from the window and is now focused down on his lap. 
“He’ll be in your hotel room the entire time. You’ll be doing the recon and walking through the convention center to get where you need to be.”
Jisung pulls his lips between his teeth. His body finally came back to life. “I won’t need to leave the room?” His voice is hoarse. 
“No,” Chan answers quickly. “Not until you’re leaving to come back home.”
Jisung shifts on his chair, unfurling his fists and swallowing thickly. 
“I understand your apprehension, J, I do. But I need you on this.”
Jisung watches him closely and then offers a weak nod. He glanced over at you. 
“I wouldn’t put you with X unless I was sure that she would watch your six.”
You nod and steel your expression. “I won’t let anything happen to you, J.”
Color returns to J’s cheeks at your words. He gulps and takes a deep breath, his shoulders rolling back and remaining stiff.
“Okay,” he says softly. “Okay, I’ll do it.” He’s more confident the second time. 
“Good.” Chan clasps his hands together. “Stay safe, agents. Amusez vouis bien!”
---------------------------------------
You and Jisung were the only ones inside the cabin of the agency’s private jet. It took off the runway only about four minutes ago. 
The brunette sat across from you, his eyes focused out the window at the clouds below. His posture is anything but relaxed. He’s sitting ramrod straight in the large cushioned chair. 
You don’t think his muscles have released since you both were in Chan’s office. Even through the thick layers of his comfortable traveling clothes you can clearly read his uneasy body language. 
“You okay?” you ask gently.
“No,” he mutters back. Duh.
You bite the inside of your cheek, completely unsure of what to do or say. This was never a part of your training. Maybe you should’ve picked up a copy of ‘ Comforting Friends for Dummies ’ when you had the chance. 
Killing targets? Easy! 
Provide detailed surveillance on a suspicious person? Done! 
Soothe an anxious friend? Not so simple. 
Jisung’s cheeks seem even puffier than usual, lips pursed in a pout. There’s no sparkle to his eyes like you’re used to. 
Taking a deep breath, you lean back in your seat and look around the plane. You crack your knuckles, displaying your own nerves. 
“Do you know the best part of staying at hotels during missions?” you ask him to break the silence.
Jisung hums in acknowledgement, he continues to watch the clouds below. 
“You get to order all the room service you want— it comes out of the agency’s card.” You smirk. 
He shifts around in his seat. His hands that were tightly gripping the armrests relax a bit. 
“Last assignment I was on with Hyunjin, we were in a seaport town, the hotel made these bacon wrapped scallops… man… I ate so many I thought I was going to explode.” You pat your stomach. 
Jisung finally looks at you. “Bacon wrapped scallops?”
You nod and smile at him. “You’ll be in the room the entire time. Think of all the room service you’ll get to order.”
“I’ve never had bacon wrapped scallops.”
“It’s Paris, who knows what they’ll offer there. And it all goes on Bang’s card.”
Jisung finally smiles. It wavers for a second, like he’s sheepish to do it. It’s paired with a breathy chuckle. He looks down at his lap and lets his body fall forward a bit, elbows resting on his knees. 
His knee bounces anxiously and the exhales he lets out are shaky. 
“God, Y/N,” he sighs, rubbing his face. “I can’t help but freak out.”
“Understandable.”
“It’s my first time out in the field.” 
“I know.”
“What if something happens?”
You roll your eyes. “I would be more surprised if something didn’t happen, Jisung.”
His head shoots up. The color drains from his face. His pouty lips part a few times like he’s trying to find the right words to say. 
“But I’m prepared for it, Jisung.” You lean forward, mirroring his posture and take his hands between yours. “I’m prepared to take care of whatever pops up to keep you safe, okay?”
His jaw clenches and he stares deeply into his eyes. The hands in yours are so warm in stark contrast to your always-cold ones. 
“And if anything terrible happens then I’ll do whatever it takes to get you out of it. Trust in me, okay? I have to take care of KDOI’s resident nerd, after all.”
“Resident nerd…” he scoffs.
You bite the inside of your cheek. “Did I ever tell you what happened on my first mission with Minho?”
Jisung shakes his head. 
“It was supposed to be easy! The intel that KDOI had gotten was that there was going to be a large drug exchange somewhere in the States, Minho was sent with me. And my lord, our intel was off.”
Thinking about the memory makes you giggle to this day. 
“It was an international, high profile cartel that Bang has been trying to nail down for years. Well, during a small scout, I got my ass captured. I wasn’t watching my six like I should’ve.”
Jisung’s eyes widen. Obviously, he wasn’t told about this. It’s not like you enjoy flaunting the story around. 
“I had a gun to the back of my head, the leader of the cartel was screaming for Minho to come out from where he was hiding or he’d kill me. God, I’ve never been so afraid in my life. My first assignment and I already had a gun to my skull.
“Minho, being the amazing agent he is, found the right vantage point and took the guy out. I was able to evade the crossfire after that, but honestly those bullets weren’t what scared me, it was the idea that Minho was disappointed in me.”
He was the agent you looked up to the most after all. He was the one that all these great stories and tales were all about. Minho was the harrowing hero of KDOI who was able to ace every mission handed to him. 
“But he didn’t even say anything about it. Even when I apologized over and over again, he just shrugged and said it was part of the job. And I get it now. It is just part of the job. So don’t worry, okay?”
Jisung swallows once, chin dipping down with a stiff nod. He turns his hands around in yours to grasp your fingers. 
A playful smirk creeps up on his face. “I can’t believe it…”
Your head cocks to the side and you watch him closely. He’s studying your manicured nails, his thumbs swipe over the digits softly. It’s a tender movement. 
“What?” you ask. 
“I can’t believe how in love with me you are.”
You rip your hands out of his and swat forward just as fast. 
With a barking laugh, he moves out of the way of your slap. You swing again and again, each time his laughter gets louder and louder. 
“First last night, now this? Are you going to propose to me next?”
You know this is just his way of evading thinking about how scared he is, but if that’s what it takes to make him feel better, you’ll allow it. If a distraction is what he needs, then you’ll give it to him. 
“Love hurts!” he cries out when you land a solid smack on his arm. “They were right!”
“It’s going to kill you, that’s what it’s going to do.”
---------------------------------------
By the time you and Jisung get to the convention center and check into the hotel it’s nearing seven at night. The gala isn’t being held until tomorrow, so you both have some time to relax and settle in. 
It leaves Jisung plenty of time to set up everything he needs inside your hotel room.
You both checked in without a hitch, getting your keys and practically falling into the room. Jet Lag is pulling your eyelids shut and weighing down on your chest like an elephant.
Flicking the lights on, you blink your bleary eyes a few times, staring down at the large bed sitting in the middle of your hotel room. 
One king sized bed.
You’d love to say this hasn’t happened before but you never know what to expect on missions. There have been places where there’s been one bed, two beds, bunk beds , and even separate bedrooms once or twice. 
On one occasion Hyunjin slept on the floor since you were only given one twin sized bed and you were not about to share that tiny space with the man who likes to spread out all of his limbs and hog the blanket at the same time.
So, at this point, you don’t even care if there’s only one bed.
You shrug it off and plop your bag next to the dresser and let your body fall back onto the plush mattress with an ‘oof!’
Jisung, on the other hand, hovers around the doorway, both hands still gripping the two rolling suitcases full of his equipment. “I can sleep on the pull out couch,” he says thickly.
“Ji, it’s fine, we can share a bed, we’re both adults here,” you tease him. “As long as you don’t put your cold feet on me, I don’t care.”
“I don’t have cold feet,” he grumbles and wheels his suitcases towards the small table on the other side of the room. 
You let your eyes slide shut on the bed. The gentle hum of the air conditioner already lulling your brain to sleep. With how exhausted you are, it wouldn’t take much for you to give into the pull anyway. 
Jisung opens up the suitcases and starts unloading every piece of technology that he has brought with him. Various wires and computer parts thud against the wood of the table. 
He stops for a second.
“And how would you know if I did have cold feet?”
A laugh is punched from your chest at the abrupt question. It’s a deep belly laugh. “Let’s just say there is a loose lipped agent among us.”
Jisung pauses. “Minho said he wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“He wasn’t going to until I started teasing him about his purchase of fuzzy socks.”
“You were with him when he bought those?”
“I helped him choose between two different pairs.” You crack one eye open to look at him. “The purple pair was my idea.”
Jisung groans and slides his laptop open, the typing on his keys is a lot more aggressive. You giggle again at his outward display of frustration.  
You let your eyes close again, listening to him shuffle his things around the wooden table muttering in between movements about how his feet aren’t that cold, they’re just colder than the rest of his body. 
An easy smile finds its way on your face and you listen to his quiet ramblings until sleep finally washes over your tired mind. 
---------------------------------------
“You were right,” Jisungs voice says in your earpiece. “Room service is fucking awesome.”
A waiter with a tray full of champagne flutes passes by, you grab one as he strides by your side. 
“I told you,” you say quietly while bringing the glass up to your lips to take a sip. “What did you order?”
“I think the better question is what didn’t I order.” His mouth sounds full when he answers you. 
He’s up on the 14th floor of the convention hall while you’re downstairs at the gala in a sleek, red silk dress. Your hair and makeup done exquisitely well, beautiful silver heels match the diamond jewelry adorning your skin. 
You blend right in to everyone around you. 
“I heard that their oysters are fantastic.”
“I think that’s part of what I ordered.” You can hear several dishes being pushed around. “Yep, right here. Although, they don’t look as appetizing as I thought.”
“They’re not really a lounge snack.”
“For rich people they are.”
The mission started about an hour ago when you made your way into the main event hall. The auction for the painting is going to begin in about another hour. 
Your first task of the night is to locate the painting before the auction and place a minuscule tracking device on it to locate later once it’s sold. 
There was only one way you knew to get close enough to The Refuge. 
“Oh. Three tables back to your 8 is your first target of the night, X.”
Paternino ‘Pink Panther’ Cardi. One of the Ice Crows inner circle members. He can’t resist swiping whatever paintings he can get his grimy fingers on; but, he also can’t resist bragging to an attractive woman. 
You turn nonchalantly to find him already eyeing you up with dark eyes. 
He’s your typical mafia member. In fact, if you had to draw a cartoon of a mobster, it would look like Paternino. 
You hold his searing eye contact while taking another sip from your champagne. The mobster lowers his chin and lets his tongue dart out to lick his lips. 
At first, seduction wasn’t a part of the job you particularly excelled at. But after doing it for so long, it comes naturally. 
Batting your lashes, you smirk at him and then turn to walk towards his table, your hips swaying in the process. Maybe you exaggerate your movements a bit, but it has the exact effect you need on Paternino. 
He’s sitting at a large round booth all by himself, legs spread wide in a show-of-power manner. A large swig of whiskey is taken out of his glass before you get to him. 
“Don’t you know that a beautiful woman such as yourself deserves a better drink than the venue provided champagne?” He motions to the booth seat next to him. 
You place your glass on the table and slide gracefully next to him. The effort you put into this is going to need to be quick, you don’t have long to locate the painting. 
“And I suppose a handsome man like yourself knows just what to order a woman like me?” Your voice is coy and seductively low. 
In your ear, you hear Jisung take a tiny, shaky breath. Does he know the intercom is still activated on his end?
Paternino slides towards you a bit more so now you can smell the expensive cologne wafting off him. It’s almost too overpowering. 
“A woman like you, hm?” He rests his arm on the booth behind your shoulders, lifting one hand to signal a waiter to come by. “Look into my eyes, let me see if I can guess your drink of choice.”
You rest your chin on top of your folded hands, your elbows resting on the table. His eye contact is intense and vivid, it makes your skin crawl. 
Paternino hums again. “A sapphire martini.”
“Nope,” Jisung says with a chuckle. 
You give a tiny, fake gasp. “How did you know?”
“I know a woman with taste when I see her.” He takes another swig of his whiskey while staring at you. “A sapphire martini for the lady.”
There must have been a waiter next to the table. You fight the urge to turn and look, instead opting to look at Paternino through your lashes. 
“Your turn, Beautiful. Why don’t you make an assumption about me?”
“I assume you’re an asshole with a tiny dick.”
Humming, you scoot even closer to Paternino, your fingers come up and walk up his chest to come around his tie. 
“I think,” you whisper lowly, coming closer to his own face, forcing your eyes to look down at his lips for a split second then back up at his eyes. “That you’re a powerful man around here, and that you don’t take no for an answer.”
His lips curl up in a cocky smirk. The arm that was previously on the booth, comes around your shoulders. His fingers feel clammy on your exposed skin. 
“Very observant, my lady. Anything else?”
The sound of a glass being delicately placed reaches your ears. You reach out and grab the martini glass without looking, bringing it closer to you.
“No, no, it’s your turn.”
He smiles. You’re so close to his face you can hear his exhales, smell the whiskey on his breath. 
You sip your own martini. God, it’s awful. You hate martinis. 
Paternino slides a finger underneath the spaghetti strap of your dress. “I think you would look gorgeous without this in the way.” He tugs on the strap. 
“Zero out of ten. Horrible pick up line. Try again.”
Jisung’s snarky words in your ear are oddly calming to your racing heart. He keeps bringing you down to Earth.
“Funny, I was thinking the same thing about your clothes.” You tug his tie. “The auction doesn’t start for some time. How about you show me somewhere private we can go and we can see if both of us are right.”
“Uuuuggghhhhhhh…”  
“I like that idea, I know just the place, Beautiful.” Paternino slides out of the booth and holds out his hand, which you grab a hold of gingerly to stand up and be led away from the main gala floor. 
---------------------------------------
It takes five minutes for Paternino to lead you to the room where The Refuge is being stored. It only takes you ten seconds to knock him out cold with one solid hit to the back of the head. 
His body hits the ground like a sack of potatoes in the dark storage room. 
“Fucking finally,” Jisung groans in your ear. 
“Sorry, it was the only way I knew to get back here.”
“That was torture, X. I’m never doing this again.”
You roll your eyes and pick up Paternino’s ragdolling body under the arms, dragging him across the room and stuffing him inside a storage closet with his arms and legs tied together and duct tape over his mouth. 
“Now, which one is The Refuge?” you mutter looking around at all the art around the room. There’s sculptures, painting, glass blown pieces, everything you would see in a museum. 
“I wonder if The Refuge is the only stolen thing in here?” 
Sighing, you walk around the room, trying to recognize anything. “Probably not. But it’s the only one we know about.”
You find the painting eventually sitting at the very back of the room covered by a large sheet. When you walk up to it, you take your earring out of your ear and slide the back off— which is where you were keeping the tracker. 
You tuck the tracker in the back of the painting between the canvas in the wood. It wouldn’t slip out nor would anyone notice. 
“Perfect.”
“I can see it on the map still, you’re all good. Now get out of there.”
“Anyone coming on the cams?”
“No, you’re clear.”
You take your other earring out and throw it in the garbage can by the door. They were fake anyway and you don’t feel like looking like a freak with one in. 
---------------------------------------
When you returned to the event hall, people were taking their seats for the auction, so you followed suit. Grabbing another drink from the bar before you sat down. 
“Vodka tonic?”
“Always,” you say under your breath. 
You watch the bartender make your drink with close eyes. 
Now you just needed to wait until the auction was over to get the painting back. Your job was half over. 
Through the earpiece, you can hear knocks on Jisung’s hotel room door. 
“More room service?”
“I… I didn’t order anything.”
Alarm bells go off in your mind. “Don’t answer it.”
Jisung stays silent for a few moments. You’re no longer watching the bartender, you’re focusing intently on what you can hear in your ear. 
“J.” You state, trying to get an update from him. 
“I think they’re gone.”
Before you can even think about being relaxed there’s a loud bang on the other side of the intercom and Jisung shrieks from surprise. 
“X! X, they’re in the room! X!” His voice shouts into your ear. 
You’re already running out of the event hall, your dress hiked up in your hands.
“J, there’s a gun strapped to the bottom of the table, use it!”
You can hear gruff voices screaming at Jisung not to move, that they’d kill him if he even twitched a muscle. 
“X, there’s five of them.” He whispers quietly. 
“J, listen to me, stay calm, I’ll be there in five minutes.” You burst through the stairwell and start climbing two at a time, even in your heels. The elevator would’ve taken too long. “Do what you need to stay alive, fuck the assignment. Stay alive.”
“X.” It’s a whimper and it stabs you through the heart. The yelling gets louder and louder. 
Jisung begs for mercy. You can hear the desperation in his voice, it pushes your legs to move faster and faster up the stairs. 
“Si—“
The earpiece goes dead after a gunshot. 
Your knees wobble and you lose your momentum. 
Oh my god, no, fuck, please. 
Reaching out, you grab the railing to keep your balance on one of the landings. 
“J?” you scream. “J, can you hear me?”
Nothing. Not a single voice comes through. Not even static.
Maybe they just shot the equipment. That has to be it. They didn’t shoot him. They wouldn’t. Right?
You steel your nerves and launch yourself up the remaining steps. By the time you reach the 14th floor, you’re not even winded. 
The long hallway is colder than the stairwell. You take off sprinting towards your room, sharply rounding the few corners that you come across. Right before your own stretch of hallway, you slow down to a walk. It kills you but you have to do it. 
In the distance, right in front of your room, you see two large men in black suits standing guard. They take notice of you immediately. 
“What are you doing up here, ma’am?” One asks as you walk closer. 
“My room is up here, honey.” 
He looks to his partner and then back at you. “Turn around and walk the other way.”
“Why?” you ask, only about ten feet away. 
“Just do it, sweet cheeks.”
Your eyebrow cocks and before he can react, you walk up and throw a sharp right hook into his jaw. The bone in his face cracks and he stumbles down onto the ground. 
His partner yells in surprise and starts fumbling for his gun. When his hand raises to shoot you, you grab his arm and aim his weapon down so when he discharges it, it shoots right into his partner. 
Then, you pull his arm so he falls forward into you. You swing the heel of your palm upwards right into his nose. With your free hand, you reach down and grab the tiny pistol that was strapped to your thigh. 
Before the second goon could recover, you shoot him right in the head. 
The sound of gunshots obviously alerted the remaining three gang members in the room. Two of them come barreling out into the hallway with their weapons drawn. 
Immediately, you shoot the first one in the head, he hits the ground before he even knows what hit him. The other gang member yelps in shock before you shoot him too. 
Within two minutes there are four bodies in the hallway.
Carefully, you walk into your hotel room, keeping your back against the wall and your gun cocked.
“Shut the fuck up,” a gruff voice says roughly. 
Jisung said there were five of them. The fifth must be the one holding him hostage.
Quietly, you inch closer and closer to the corner of the wall. Once you turn around, he’ll be right in front of you. 
You gulp and take one deep breath before coming around the corner, gun pointed forward. 
“I wouldn’t if I were you.” That same deep voice calls out. 
Your heart drops. 
Another typical looking crook is pointing his gun at the closed wardrobe doors in the corner of the room. 
Where is Jisung? Where is he? Is he in the wardrobe? He has to be inside the wardrobe. 
“Why don’t you drop the gun, sweetie.” The mobster says darkly. 
You stay still with the gun pointed at him despite his words. The trigger seems to burn your finger. It's aching to be pulled. 
Is Jisung in the wardrobe? Is he in there and you can’t see him?
Or is this guy trying to pull a fast one on you to get you to drop your weapon? 
Fuck, is Jisung in the wardrobe?
“I said drop the fucking gun.” He moves to pull the hammer back of his own pistol and you don’t hesitate even for a second. 
You pull your own trigger. 
He drops to the ground with a bullet wound directly in his head. 
You sprint across the room and rip open the wardrobe doors. 
Empty. 
It’s empty. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you repeat under your breath frantically. You blink your eyes over and over again hoping that he would suddenly appear. 
You even go so far as to open and close the wardrobe door three more times, each time more frantic. 
“Fuck!”
Where the fuck is he if he’s not inside this room? 
The equipment on the table has a bullet hole through Jisung’s main laptop but no blood anywhere near it. But his glasses are. They’re lying on the floor with a crack through one of the lenses. 
Did they move him to another location? He doesn’t have a tracker on him like you do.
With a yell of anguish, you turn and kick the dead mobster at your feet. His limp body rolls over and his jacket pocket falls open. 
A hotel room key tucked inside the pocket catches your attention. You crouch down and pick it up.
‘1833’ is written on the back of the key.
It’s not a great lead, but your legs are running out of your hotel room before you even think twice. Obviously they moved him somewhere else to lead you into their trap and it didn’t work. Not with how well you were trained. 
You burst through the door leading to the 18th floor, heeled shoes sprinting down the hallway towards where room 1833 would be.
As soon as you’re in front of the door, you click the hammer back of your gun and hold it out in front of you, swiping the key in the handle with your free hand.
The lock clicks open and you push the handle down slowly, trying to cause the least amount of noise as possible. All of the lights are off inside of the hotel room, save for one lamp. The yellow glow radiates on the wall.
There’s no noise.
Everything is completely silent save for the quiet hum of the air conditioning pumping through the room.
Until you hear a sniffle, a huff, and then another sniffle. 
Inching across the floor, you slide your back against the wall like you did previously, listening for any more key sounds that would alert you that there are more people inside the room.
Taking one last deep breath, you round the corner and point your gun forward.
Even in the dark you know exactly what you’re seeing. 
In the middle of the room stood Han Jisung; his hands tied together with a rope coming from the ceiling, a blindfold around his eyes and earplugs shoved into his ears. From here you can see the wetness from his tears being absorbed by the blindfold. There’s a gag tied around his mouth muffling tiny sobs.
You don’t allow yourself to fall victim to false security, you look around the room closely, making sure no one else is lying in wait for you to fall into yet another trap. 
No other soul is inside this hotel room with you.
Dropping the gun onto the bed, you cross the room towards Jisung as quickly as possible.
He must sense another presence in front of him, his entire body stiffens and another louder sob is swallowed by the gag. He backs up away from you as much as his restraints allowed– which was next to nothing.
“Jisung,” you say in relief. “Oh god.”
Without thinking twice about it, you reach around and brush your hand on his lower back, scratching twice. 
Jisung’s chest heaves with another sob, even through the gag in his mouth, you can hear him whimper your name. His entire body relaxes and he falls towards you, the ties on his hands tugging even more. 
You reach up and yank the gag out of his mouth. 
“X,” he rasps with a dry tongue. “Oh my god please say it’s you. I-I can’t hear anything— fuck, Jesus. Thank god you’re alive, oh god.”
You scratch his lower back again, looking at the restraints. How the fuck were you going to untie that knot? 
Jisung’s tongue darts out to lick at his dry lips. His weight leans into you as much as he can. It must’ve been horrifying to be tied up like this, he couldn't hear or see or scream for help. 
Gingerly, you reach up and cup both of his cheeks so as not to startle him. Even with how gentle you were, he still jumps in shock. 
“Everything happened so fast,” he rambled. “They shot out the laptop so the communicator was fried. Next thing I knew I had a bag over my head and I was being tied up.”
Using your fingers, you push the blindfold up his face to rest around his forehead. 
Jisung’s big, brown eyes blink and squint a bit before focusing on you. He searches all over your face, taking in every detail as if you’re a glass of water and he’s been crawling through the desert. 
His eyebrows pinch together and he gulps. 
“God, I’m always glad to see you, but now I’m really glad.”
You laugh under your breath, the stress from just the last thirty minutes alone lifting off your shoulders. 
He’s okay. 
Jisung is okay. 
Using your hands, you wipe the tear tracks off his puffy cheeks. God, he must’ve been horrified. 
He’s probably never going to go out into the field again. You look up at the restraints, analyzing the knot closely. You’re going to have to cut him down, there’s no way you’re untying that. He’s secured to a pipe that runs across the entirety of the ceiling. 
“You know,” Jisung starts. His voice already has that teasing tilt to it. “If you wanted me tied up this badly, all you had to do was ask, baby.”
Your eyebrows twitches. Mr. Humor-Is-My-Coping-Mechanism decides to show his face now of all times, huh? 
Slowly, you look down from his restrained wrists to his dark eyes. A smirk is already plastered on his face, his lips still wet from licking them.
“You must want me so bad, hm?”
With your own crooked smile, you tongue your cheek and make a ‘huh’ noise, it puffs through your chest. That’s how he wants to be, huh?
He can stay tied up for a little longer then. It’s not like anyone’s coming into this room nor do you have anything to do until after the auction. 
Really, you have nothing but time to kill!
You take a step backwards away from him and cross your arms over your chest.
His eyes widen when you distance yourself from him. “Wh…” His cheeks puff a bit as his lips purse in confusion. Jisung tugs on the rope still around his wrists. 
You cock your head to the side and stare at him with one lifted brow. 
The bed behind you dips down under your weight as you sit down on the edge. It gives you a perfect vantage point to watch Jisung grow more and more confused as to why you’re not cutting him down yet. 
Slowly, his ears start turning red, the flush crawls across his face and down his neck, disappearing into his black hoodie. 
“X,” he says hoarsely. “Aren’t you going to cut me down?”
You shrug, knowing no matter what you say, he’s not going to hear you. If he wants to tease you, you can tease right back. 
The gun on the bed beside you is picked up in your hand. You nonchalantly click the safety on and toss it to the side again.
He tugs even harder, the ropes chafing his wrists a bit. You watch as JIsung’s Adam’s Apple bobs with a gulp. The blindfold is pushing his bangs up in wild directions.
The helpless look on his face shouldn’t be making your blood pump this way. Excitement shouldn’t be tingling at the base of your spine from the power trip you’re getting from this. This is only teasing between two best friends, nothing more. 
It’s just teasing, right?
Right?
You cross one leg over the other, leaning back on your hands. The plush blanket underneath your fingertips feels cool and soft. It’s a complete contrast to the way your skin is heating up under Jisung’s desperate gaze.
“Aren’t you going to…” he trails off. Several times his eyes flick from yours down to your exposed leg. When you had crossed them, due to the slit up your dress, the entirety of your leg was exposed to the cool hotel room air.
“Going to what?” you ask him, exaggerating the movements of your mouth for him to understand. 
Jisung gulps again while watching your lips. He squints his eyes closed and tries to take a steadying breath in through his nose, his chin tilts back a bit.
You allow your gaze to wander down his body a bit. He’s always in relaxed clothing, including now. An oversized black hoodie draped over his shoulders with gray sweatpants on his bottom half.
Gray sweatpants that you now notice seem a little… tight .
Oh.
It seems as though you’re not the only one whose thoughts seem to be a bit… derailed. 
When you look back up at Jisung, he’s staring at you with slightly glassy eyes and a heaving chest. Nervously, his tongue comes out to lick his drying lips again. 
A tight band of tension stretches between the two of you; you can practically feel it connecting your bodies together. The hair on the back of your neck stands up.
Is he thinking the same thing you are? Is he allowing his mind to wander the way that yours is?
Slowly, you uncross your legs and stand up from the edge of the bed. 
Big brown eyes flick down to watch the movement absentmindedly, his lips part and a shaky exhale leaves them. 
Your hips sway from side to side with each slow step you take towards Jisung. 
The eye contact he makes with you is sharp; his thoughts being conveyed through them. He wants you, and he wants you bad. It’s like he’s practically begging for it with those brown puppy dog eyes. 
And you’ll be damned because you want it just as bad. 
There’s only so much of his teasing that you can take. Only so much desire the dam within your heart can take before it bursts. And right now, with how high your adrenaline has spiked, nothing is stopping you.
The last two years of nonstop flirting is taking its toll on your self control.
Licking your own lips, you look up at Jisung, a shaky breath coming out afterwards.
Your fingers come up and grab the blindfold that’s still around his forehead and tug it back down over his eyes.
“ Fuck, ” Jisung murmurs. Your face is so close to his you can physically feel the words splay out onto your own lips. 
With the gentleness of a butterfly landing on a flower, you brush your lips against his. Jisung immediately brings his face closer to yours, smashing your mouths together even more. 
A sensation you can’t quite describe washes over you. It has the same level of completeness that you had felt when you became a full-fledged agent; like you just did something that the universe has been waiting for you to do.
His pouty lips start moving against yours faster and faster with more urgency, like he can’t get enough of you, like he’s experiencing the same emotions that you are. Were you the piece he always needed too?
Both of your hands begin to explore. You cup his cheek with one while the other grabs at the front of his hoodie. He’s leaning into you so much that the ropes holding his wrists squeak as they tighten and rub.
With a teasing smirk against his mouth, you take a tiny step back. This way he wasn’t able to reach your lips but could still feel the heat from your body in front of him. 
A tiny whine leaves his throat as soon as you pull away. You watch as his lips chase after you just to be stopped by the ropes.
“Y/N,” he whispers, pleading. You lightly tap his cheek twice.
Pulling the collar of his hoodie to the side, you let your mouth hover over his neck. 
Since he doesn’t have sight or hearing, all of his other senses are on high alert. Jisung feels your warm exhales so close to his skin and squirms around, little noises leaving the back of his throat. 
You tease him more and more by letting your deep breaths fan over his flushed skin but never actually letting your lips actually meet with his neck.
Jisung pulls and pulls on the restraints, each exhale driving him insane. 
When your lips finally meet his neck, a long mewl exits his own wet mouth. His head tilts to the side to give you more access. Greedily, you let your mouth explore his soft skin. 
His hips buck forward into yours, his hard length grinding into your hip to bring himself some relief. Jisung whines again at the sensation.
At the same time, you open your mouth and suck down where his shoulder meets his neck. His body tenses up and his head tilts back in pleasure.
“Jesus, fuck,” he curses, grinding into your hip once again. “Oh, god. Shit– please, fuck, Y/N.” His incoherent babbling only increases in pitch and frequency the more you run your tongue up and down his neck, never going lower than the collar of his hoodie would pull or higher than his jawline. 
You let your free hand travel up to thread in his soft, chocolate brown locks of hair. You scratch at his scalp a few times, letting your nails drag along his head. A low moan emanates deep within Jisung’s chest, it almost sounds like a purr. His head leans back into your touch. 
“Oh my god,” he murmurs. Every noise that comes out of his mouth is louder than you expect thanks to the earplugs. “Y/N, please– oh fuck , kiss me again, please, oh my god, please, Y/N.”
Pulling away from his neck, you capture his lips in the middle of his babbling. The rest of his words are swallowed by your own mouth. His tongue darts out from his mouth to lick at your lips and coax yours forward.
Your own moans slip between kisses, Jisung can feel the vibrations against his mouth and they drive him absolutely wild. His hands ball up into fists; he wants to touch you so bad. 
“Y/N,” he says your name in between kisses. “Please, c-cut me down.” Your kisses travel down to his jawline. “I want to– Fu-huh-huck! ” You bite down on his neck harshly, sucking a bright purple hickey underneath it. 
Jisung rolls his hips into yours. You can feel how absolutely rock hard his cock is through his sweats. 
“N-Need to touch you. Hah! I’m going insane, Y/N.”
Begs sound so good coming from his lips. 
You run your hands down his chest to tease at the hem of his hoodie before sliding them underneath the fabric and up his bare chest. The muscle that greets you underneath it is a pleasant surprise.
The hard lines of his abs and chest run along the pads of your fingertips. He flexes and tenses under your touch.
Jisung throws his head back with a groan, his weight shifts around on his feet. It feels so fucking good . Every single touch to his body is heaven sent. 
At the top of his chest, you curl your fingers and rake your nails down his skin.
The wail that tears from his throat makes your heart rate pick up ten fold. It sends a lightning bolt of pleasure through your body. 
“Oh my god, please do that again! ” Jisung begs, his mouth hanging open as he pants over and over again. It seems like he can’t catch his breath. 
Who were you to deny him?
With a featherlight touch, you let your fingers trail up, up, up his body. The closer you got to the top, the faster Jisung’s breathing picks up. 
Right before you curled your fingers again, you smash your lips together in another searing kiss. When you claw down his quickly reddening skin, his cry is swallowed up by your own mouth.
You don’t stop your fingers on their downward descent, you tease the waistband of his sweats, letting your fingers curl around the top of the band and touching the taut skin underneath.
“Ah, hah.” Jisung pants into your mouth. He leans forward and sucks on your bottom lip, pulling it back for it to snap against your teeth. “I want to touch you so bad, Y/N, please .”
“Be patient,” you say against his lips. He doesn’t hear it, but he feels it. A pathetic whine responds to your words. 
You kiss his lips a few more times before dropping down to your knees in front of him. 
“Holy shit,” he breathes out. “Oh god, oh my god.”
You grab his legs with both of your hands starting at the knees and run them up his thighs, taking your time on your ascent. 
“Fuck, fuck , this is really happening.” Jisung gulps. He pulls harder and harder on the ropes. 
When your hands reach the top of his thighs, you run one closer and palm his erection over the top of his sweats. A deep, guttural moan is Jisung’s only response. Even through his sweats you can feel how his cock twitches in your grasp.
His hips buck into your hand when you squeeze him. “F-Fuck, I– Oh god– This is really happening and I can’t even fucking see it .”
You smirk. Maybe you should show him a small bit of mercy. Just a small amount. 
Leaning forward, you kiss his cock over his sweatpants. Jisung gasps and twitches again.
You stand up quickly, coming nose to nose with him. Your hands come up to cup his cheeks, they’re so warm from his flushed face.
“Y-Y/N,” he gasps. You peck his lips, letting them linger on his while your hands come up to his ears to take the plugs out. “Y/N,” he repeats on your lips.
“Hi, Jisung,” you breathe against his mouth before kissing him again, letting the earplugs drop to the ground.
You don’t linger for too long, you kiss down his face, down his neck, and then you fall to your knees once more.
“Jesus, Y/N.” 
You don’t tease him too much this time, you grab the waistband of his pants and tug them down, his rock hard cock finally coming out. His tip is red and angry. God, how can a dick look so pretty? 
Just as quickly as you got his cock out of his pants, you wrap your hand around him, pumping your hand up and down slowly. 
“Ohhhh my goood,” Jisung mewls. His thighs tense up and flex each time you stroke up and down. “Fuck yeah, Y/N. God, your hands are so fucking soft.”
You tighten your grip and Jisung whines. 
“Yeah? Does that feel good, baby?”
His cock twitches in your hand at the nickname at the same time a tiny whine escapes his throat.
“Does it?”
“Y-Yes,” he answers shyly.
“Louder, Jisung.”
“Yes, it feels good!”
“Good boy.” Without warning, you lean forward and take the entirety of him inside your mouth.
You can feel his knees buckle and if it wasn’t for the restraints keeping him suspended from the ceiling, he probably would’ve fallen to the ground. 
“Oh, oh m-my, f-fuck, Y/N!”
You’re relentless. You bob your head back and forth on his dick, letting your tongue swirl around the tip when you come up just to go back down and swallow him completely. Jisung’s hands are balled into such tight fists that his knuckles are turning white.
So many different pitches of whines, moans, and groans fall so easily from his lips. Compliments come out in between each one. 
“So good,” he cries. “I can’t fucking– holy shit.”
In some part of your mind, you always knew he would be vocal during sex– but never this vocal. He hasn’t shut up once. Not that you’re complaining, quite the opposite really. You fucking love every single noise that he makes. Each one sends a shock down between your legs. 
Too often you’ve been with partners that conceal how you’re making them feel, but not anymore. Jisung is making sure you know exactly how well you’re doing. 
“Such a perfect mouth, oh god. So fucking warm.”
You let your hand travel up his hoodie again, his abs are clenching and releasing over and over again with how hard he’s panting, you can feel each one under your hands. 
“Yes, yes, yes,” he pants as your hand goes up. “Fucking hurt me, yeah, please, scratch me, Y/N.”
God, the way he’s talking to you is fucking sinful. It’s perfect .
You scratch down his chest just as harshly as you did twice previously. 
Again, Jisung lets out a wail, his hips bucking and fucking his cock down your throat. You gag around him but keep him down your throat regardless.
“I-I-I’m gunna, holy shit, Y/N, I’m g’na– g’na—”
Now, you can’t have that yet, can you?
Quickly, you pull off his cock, letting yourself take a gulp of air. 
Jisung cries out from his ruined orgasm. “No! Shit! Fuck! Why?”
You look around the room while he throws his mini temper tantrum. There’s a small kitchen off to the side of the suite. 
As if you have nothing better to do, you meander over to it, looking around. 
“Y/N?” Jisung asks, hearing you walk away.
“Hm?” you respond.
“W-Where did you go?”
“Still here, baby, why?”
He shifts around, pulling on the ropes. The red color on his ears is getting deeper and deeper. “Just um– Why did you leave?”
You giggle. “Looking for something.”
You open one of the drawers, close it, then open another until you find what you’re looking for. It glints and catches your eye in the third drawer you check. You pick up the knife that was inside the drawer.
You’re walking back in his direction with the knife in your hand.
“D-Did you find what you needed?”
“Yep.”
With frightening grace, you reach up and slice the ropes holding his wrists in the air.
He almost drops to the ground, but you grab a hold of him before he has a chance to fall into the carpet. 
Jisung wastes no time, he grabs at your waist with both of his hands. Through the silk fabric of your dress, you feel the heat of his touch. It scorches into your skin and you wish he would brand his very handprints there.
His lips are already on yours again, feverishly kissing you as if you would disappear if he stopped even for a moment. He takes one second to rip the blindfold off his eyes and then he’s back on your mouth.
The hands on your waist don’t stay there long. They run all along your figure, up in your hair, over your neck, grabbing your ass, gripping your hips, he’s everywhere. 
You back up a bit, pulling Jisung with you until the back of your legs are about to hit the bed. Quickly, you spin the two of you around, pushing his chest so that he falls back onto the bed. 
When Jisung finally blinks the confusion from his eyes, his breath catches in his throat at the sight of you at the foot of the bed. 
You’re looking at him like you’re about to devour his very soul. Your hair is frizzy and tousled, the straps of your dress falling off your shoulders, your lipstick smudged over your puffy, kiss swollen lips.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he murmurs. His fingers curl into the blanket.
You straddle his legs and crawl onto the bed, hiking the skirt of your dress up enough for Jisung to see the strong muscle of your thighs. 
“There’s no way I’m awake right now,” he whispers, hands grabbing at your bare legs and running them up to push your dress further up your body. “I must have been shot. I’m in Heaven right now.”
With a sultry chuckle, you cup his cheek and let your thumb swipe over his lips. “I’m real, baby.”
“Oh my god.”
You reach down and take a hold of his cock, pumping him up and down a few more times. Jisung moans and fights for his eyes to stay open, he can’t get enough of the sight of your hand wrapped around him.
With your other hand, you reach down and pull your panties to the side, revealing your dripping cunt. 
“Holy fuck, you’re so wet,” Jisung whines. His fingers run up your folds, collecting your wetness on his digits and bringing them up to his mouth. He moans around his own fingers at your taste, his eyes rolling back in his skull. “Please, I need to–”
You cut him off by squeezing his cock. “Next time. I need you now .”
“Yes, ma’am,” he squeaks out. 
As if he would ever complain.
You line his cock up with your entrance, Jisung grabs your hips with both of his hands, his thumbs pressing against the bone so hard. His breathing is getting faster and faster with each passing second.
Slowly, you sink down on his cock.
Both of you moan out in unison. The stretch feels fucking marvelous inside of you. Jisung’s eyes roll back in his head once more. 
His moans dissolve into silence as his mouth stretches open in an ‘O’. He throbs inside you right before you lift your hips just to drop them again. 
“Oh god,” you moan. “Jisung, you feel so fucking good.”
“Move, please ,” he begs and you bounce up and down again and again. Each time you drop down, it shoots pleasure down through your thighs and into your toes.
You grab his face and smash his lips with yours once more. His tongue immediately finds yours. 
Jisung’s hands wander from your hips all the way around your body to grip your ass while you ride him, his fingers dig into the flesh, kneading it with each bounce. 
“Fuck, fuck,” he murmurs into your mouth. “Pussy so fucking tight.”
“Just for you.”
“O-Oh, fuck yeah . Just like that, baby.”
Jisung pulls away from your lips to kiss down your neck the way you did to him earlier. He takes his hands off your ass to pull the straps of your dress down your arms for your breasts to fall out of the top.
“Shit, baby,” he whines before taking a nipple in his mouth.
Moaning, you pull his hair tighter, keeping his face buried in your chest– not that he seems to mind. His eyebrows pinch together, moans vibrating against your chest as he licks and sucks at your nipple.
His other hand comes up to pinch and pull at the other. Each tweak and flick of his tongue makes your walls clamp down on his cock.
“Your cock feels so good, Jisung,” you moan, clenching on him again. “Stretching me so good, so fucking big.”
He moans, sucking a hickey on the underside of one of your tits. 
The pitch of both of your moans begin to get higher and higher the closer you get to your peaks. Jisung’s heels dig into the carpet and he starts fucking up into you.
“Fuck!” you cry out, holding him tighter. His thrusts are so much wilder than your bounces were. Each one fucks right into your g-spot. “Ji– Jisung, oh god!”
“Yeah?” He pulls away from your chest and looks up at you with half lidded eyes. “Does that feel good? Am I making you feel good?”
“Yes, yes! Keep going, Ji!”
Every single thrust is driving you wild. Everything about him makes you feel crazy, everything down to the sweat beading on his forehead.
He reaches down and presses his thumb against your clit, making you cry out. He rubs circles in the same tempo as his thrusts. 
Closer and closer you approach your own climax, his touch feels too good.
Jisung looks down, watching where his cock disappears inside you over and over again. The very sight of it makes his mouth go dry. 
He groans and falls into your chest. 
“Say it for me, Y/N, say it,” he pants into your neck. “Say you’re close. I-I’m going to fucking bust, say you’re close, I need you to cum on my cock. Need it s-so bad.”
“I am, I am,” you repeat like a mantra. Your own pleasure is making you feel inside, his cock is abusing your walls just right, his thumb on your clit adding an extra level of insanity. 
You pull more at his hair.
Close, close, close. It’s all you can think of. Jisung is enveloping all of your senses. He’s everything in your mind and body and even your soul.
“Gunna cum!” you cry out. “Cumming, cu– cumming!”
With just three more thrusts, your walls clamp down on Jisung’s cock, triggering his own release.
“Jisung, fuck!”
He bites down on your neck, crying out and grabbing you tightly with his free hand. He clings onto you like he would die if he let go.
Hot, sticky cum drips over your walls, leaking out around his cock.
Both of you are panting heavily, unable to move and detangle yourselves from one another. 
Slowly, you release your death grip on his hair, letting your nails drag along his scalp like you did earlier. He hums against your neck, his hands finding your hips again, thumbs massaging you over your dress.
The gentleness of his touch makes you clench around him, your cunt still going through the aftershock of your orgasm.
“Jeeesus…” Jisung moans out, a bit overstimulated. You giggle and pull back to look down at your best friend. He looks up at you with a delighted smile across his face.
You giggle and continue to comb through his hair. 
His eyes fall closed happily and he leans into your touch.
This should feel awkward. You should be having some sort of ‘post-nut clarity’ where you freak out for sleeping with your best friend, but you’re not. 
Right here, right now, you feel safe and content. And your relationship with Jisung feels the same– if not better.
“I knew it,” he hums.
You cock your head to the side. “Knew what?”
“You’re obsessed with me.”
Laughing, you lean forward and press a long kiss to his lips. “Yeah.” You kiss him again. “Maybe I am.”
---------------------------------------
“So J was captured and tied up in another room in the convention center?” Chan asks.
You and Jisung had safely returned to Korea with The Refuge about two hours ago. And, per protocol, you both immediately went to Chan’s office for a debrief.
“Affirmative,” you answer. 
“And you got him back, obviously. No problems after that?”
“No, sir.”
Jisung shifts on his chair next to you.
“Uneventful beyond that one hiccup?”
You tongue your cheek. “Yes, sir.”
Chan eyes the two of you curiously from the other side of his desk. But, the mission was complete and everything was done. There was nothing he needed to be wary of. For now.
“Understood. I’ll read about the mission more in your reports. You’re both dismissed.”
The two of you are leaving Chan’s office with thinly veiled smirks on your faces. Just as you’re about to close the door behind you, he calls out.
“Might want to cover the hickeys next time!”
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footygirl114 · 3 months
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Corajuda (Alexia Putellas X Reader)
So Part 5! This one is for the handful of you who actually care to read it and make me want to keep writing. So thank you for sticking with me and continuing to read my series.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 and Part 4
When the alarm goes off the following morning the first thing you were alerted to was that the alarm wasn’t the sound you use, and the warm body pressed into your side. Turning your head you opened your eyes and were met with a sight you could get used to, Alexia was leaned on her side, with her arm bent under her head looking down on you. 
You could feel the smile grow on your lips as she says softly “Buenos dias hermosa.” 
“Hi” you smiled up at her as you tangle your fingers with her hand that was sitting on your stomach. 
The alarm goes off again and she looks towards the clock and with a groan says “We need to go, we woke up late.” 
Echoing her groan you say “I don’t want to get up” 
“me either, but we gotta go.” she finishes by pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips and she rolls off the other side of the bed. Your eyes track her movement as she gets up and gathers some clothes and disappears into the bathroom. 
You take a moment and cover your face and whisper to your self “time to get up.” 
Before you can sit up she leans her head out the bathroom door and says “You need to go get changed gorgeous, I gotta be at the field early” and she finishes with a wink as she disappears back into the bathroom. 
Smiling to yourself you hop out of bed, grab your clothes you changed out of last night and move to leave shouting out “I am keeping your clothes Ale, but I will see you downstairs shortly.” 
You can feel the smile on your face the whole time you are getting ready, and when you meet her downstairs she’s on the phone but you keep meeting her eyes with a smile in the rear view mirror. The usual drop off occurs with the new added bonus of her adding a wink before she disappears into the building. 
Once you park and move to enter the building you pause for a moment outside to gather your breathe and push all thoughts of being in Alexia’s bed this morning to the back burner. You needed to focus and do your job to ensure her safety going forward. When you step into the lobby you are met with the head of the security team. You had organised this meeting the day prior and knew was necessary to keep Alexia safe. 
“Jorge, Hi, thank you for meeting with me” You say to him and hold your hand out to the older man. 
He smiles and shakes your hand with a “of course Y/N, I am always happy to help keep out team safe. Now come with me to my office.” 
Nodding you follow the man down the hallway, into the security room. His office is off the back of the camera room and as you walk through you immediately note the team in the weight room on the cameras. 
He point you to the chair across from his desk and when he sits down and relaxes like this is a joke to him it starts to make your blood boil. “So Y/N, I am not sure what we need to discuss, I have been keeping this team safe for many years.” 
“As much as I want to agree with you, I can’t, not with how I have seen things organised in this federation” you tell him as you sit there, rigid back and keep your eyes locked on his. 
He shifts like you hit a nerve and he says “What are you saying to me?” 
“I am saying that I have been at 2 events where I was told that the federation has taken over the security and I wouldn’t need to worry and at both events Alexia was the target of some sort of attack” you tell him with a stern tone. 
“Nothing happened yesterday” He says as he shifts and sits up to lean over his desk closer to you and he finishes snarling “you overreacted little girl.”
“I reacted exactly how I was trained. There was a threat and I got Alexia out of there before it could become worse” you start with him, you shift to sit straighter and say “You hired security yesterday, and I bet you didn’t screen them, cause if you did you would have found that the one of them was the same one that the police identified as being involved in the recent stalking of Alexia.” 
He shifts back in his seat and says “How am I supposed to know that?” 
You stand up and reach into your bag handing him a file “This is the file I emailed to your team, after the first situation, I sent a brief to your team so you would all have pictures and images of these guys and whats going on. If you didn’t care to read my emails that says more on you and how seriously you take your job than me.” 
At this point he’s significantly shrunk back into his chair and he asks “What do you need from me?” 
“I need you to take this seriously and care. I have the training and the background in this, just let me help.” you tell him with a smile. 
He stands up and holds his hand out and says “Welcome to the team Y/N.” 
Smiling you shake his hand and ask “Can we now go over the plans for the away trip?” 
The next hour is spent pouring over the plans for travelling. The team was hopping on a plane later in the afternoon to fly to Germany for their first away champions league game. You were going with them but it was a purely work trip. 
The travel goes smoothly and everyone makes it to the hotel safely. You barley got to speak to Alexia but every time your eyes met it was like there was this underlying secret you both share that you both cant help but smile about. She smirks and meets your eyes as the team disperses to bed, but you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. The whole day made your body feel off and you knew it would be a hard night to sleep so you disappeared into the gym and exhausted yourself before you went to bed. 
The next day was spent following the team to the training field and then to the stadium they were playing at the following day. You had a focus on the team and keeping your eyes peeled for the day. At one point you were standing on the side of the field and a ball came flying in and without thinking you controlled it on your knee and settled it to your feet and kicked it right back to Claudia who was running over for it. 
You thought nothing of it and continued to do what you were doing before the ball came in. What you didn’t notice was Alexia watching you, she had her lip bit between her teeth as she watched you control the ball like it was nothing. It took Kiera hitting her on the back of the head to get her to focus back on the training session. 
When it was over you were leaning on a wall near where the team would come out to get on the bus. You immediately met Alexia’s eyes as she walked out of the change room, and she walked closer to you and said “I didn’t know you could play?” 
You smile at her and say “there’s a lot you don’t know about me Ms. Putellas.” 
She takes a sneaky look around and darts forward and whispers into your ear “I can’t wait to find out more” and she tugs your ear with her teeth. She’s gone in a second walking towards the bus and as you watch her give her hips a little extra shake knowing your eyes are on her ass. 
The rest of the trip goes smoothly. The team wins an easy 5-1 game, and goes out to dinner to celebrate. On the walk back from the restaurant to the hotel you and Alexia were the last to leave and were walking slightly behind the rest of the team. Alexia used the cover of darkness to keep rubbing her hand on yours. 
After the third pass you chuckled and hooked your pinky with hers and say “Ms. Putellas it is very obvious you want to hold mu hand.” 
She chuckles and moves closer so her shoulder is pressed to yours “I feel like I have barley spoken to you.” 
“I’ve been working” you tell her.
She chuckles and pushes you into an alleyway and press your back against the wall and her again your front. You wrap your arms around her hips and keep her pressed close to you. “I had you in my bed for one night and overnight I want you back in it” she softly says looking into your eyes. 
Smiling at her you lean down and press a kiss to her nose and say “we should catch up Ale.” 
She smiles and leans up pressing a kiss on the corner of your mouth and says “lets go.” She chuckles and pulls away moving in the direction of the hotel and you follow her and catch up with the rest of the team. 
The following morning after landing and transferring back to the bus and to the field. You are back driving Alexia home, when you go to drop her off she asks “Can you just park the car and we can walk in together?” 
You meet her eyes in the mirror and nod pulling into the underground parking. You move and open her door and when she gets out you close the door and press her against it. “I want to take you out Alexia, I want to know everything about you, all the details that make you you. I want to know your coffee order, and what kind of wine you drink. I want it all” you tell her looking deep into her eyes.
She smiles and moves to wrap her arms around your neck and she says “I would like nothing more than that Y/N.” 
“Tonight 7pm? I will pick you up?” you ask her. 
“Let me check if my hot security guard can make that work” she chuckles and when you stick your tongue out at her she says “I will be ready for 7pm Y/N.” 
You meet her eyes and look down at her lips and then back up at her eyes. “Alexia you need to leave now, or I wont be able to wait until later” you smile at her.
“What if I don’t want you to wait?” She asks. 
Groaning you pull back a bit from her saying “I want to do this right, and if I kiss you right now we wont make it till 7pm Ale.” 
She nods and leans up pressing a kiss to the corner of your lip and pulls back. She turns walking backwards and says “I can’t wait to see you later” with a wink she disappears behind the doors and you stand there smiling at the door for much longer than you admit. 
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Shy Girl (2)
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Hi guys!
This is the second part for Shy Girl, it was fun to write so I hope you will like it :)
It's longer that I thought tho. Sorry if there is some mistakes, Tumblr was a pain in my ass.
Enjoy!
TW : None
_____________________________________________________________
After the evening you met Alexia, you didn’t stay for long in Barcelona. You are engaged for a film on a rather large scale since you play in an American production and for one of the greatest current directors. You are always very careful to study the profiles of people offering you roles, preferring not to play in a promising film rather than finding yourself with someone crooked.
You talked about it at one point during your exchanges with Alexia and she confided in you about all that the Spanish team has experienced in recent years because of the Federation. But that’s just part of the different conversations you’ve had over the last couple of weeks. After talking a few times on Instagram, Alexia asked for your phone number and you continued by messages and sometimes FaceTime.
Sometimes you had to change countries, but you always managed to find a time to exchange news. You must admit that when a break is taking between two takes, you hurry to check your phone to see if you have not received a message from Alexia. Little do you know that she does the same in training, undergoing the teasing of her teammates.
********
Alexia 👑 Hey! When are you coming back to Barcelona again?
You I'm coming on Friday Why?
Alexia 👑 If I give you tickets, would you like to watch me play?
You Wait, you can play again?! 😱
Alexia 👑 Just had the go from the medical staff 😊
You Oh god I'm so happy for you 🤗 Of course I'll come, I'm happy you ask
Alexia 👑 I'm happy too. I'll send you all the information soon 💕
It's after this exchange of messages that you find yourself installed once again in the area reserved for families and VIPs, accompanied by your agent and definitely your best friend. Sofia puts her hand on your knee for the tenth time of the evening to prevent you from making it bounce in all directions. Alexia has informed you that she will not start the game, but will be in after the start of the second half.
Alexia is actually training since the return of the teams on the field and you feel the excitement running through the crowd as you see the captain treading the grass. However, it’s nothing against the clamor that resounds in the crowd when Alexia joins the rest of the team for the first time in many weeks. A big smile illuminates your face, similar to Alexia’s before she focuses on the game.
The match turn to Barca's advantage and you stay after the match when the players start their lap at the end of the game. You spotted Alexia’s mom and sister a few seats away from you but you didn’t have the courage to go and greet them. You didn’t agree on a program after the match, you didn’t want to impose yourself too much and you imagined that Alexia would prefer to celebrate her return to the field with her teammates.
You wink at her when she comes to greet her family and you were about to get up to leave the stadium when she beckons you to approach. You hesitate for a split second but your best friend gently pushes you in the back to join her, which you do timidly.
"Hi" smiled Alexia, placing her hand on yours, which is on the metal of the railing. "Can you wait for me to catch up? I'll be quick"
Your skin is hot where she's touching you and you have to use all of yourself to stay focus on the conversation you're having.
"Don’t you want to celebrate with your friends?" you ask while looking at her with your head tilted to the side.
"Maybe after" Alexia replies with some embarrassment that you have trouble understanding.
"Okay. I’ll wait for you then"
You smile and a big smile is displayed on Alexia’s face, who promises once again not to take long before joining you. So you return to the same lobby as a few days ago, accompanied by your agent and best friend. Like the other day, she goes to get you a glass of champagne and you sit on two stools at the back of the room.
You find yourself blushing stupidly when you cross the look of Eli Putellas and you hurry to half hide behind your best friend who rolls her eyes seeing you do.
True to her promise, Alexia quickly appears in the room, stopping once again at her family who kisses her and exchanges a few words with her. Your eyes meet several times during their exchange and you quickly understand at Alexia's sign of head that she wants to introduce you.
"Don’t forget to breathe, you’re going to pass out" Sofia teases you.
It’s your turn to roll your eyes, but your heart beats a little too fast when the three Putellas arrive at your height. You haven’t seen Alexia in person since you met her and with her wet hair and her bright smile, she’s even more stunning than you remember. However, you try to ignore this by listening to Alexia who make the introductions between you four.
After the greetings and exchanges of rigour, you learn in passing that Alba has seen all of your films, Alba and Eli must leave since they both work the next day.
"I’m glad you came" Alexia smiles after her family left and your best friend went to the bathroom.
"I’m glad I came" you assure her by smiling too.
You silently look at each other for a few seconds and you bite your lip, trying to hold her gaze.
"It’s weird to be in front of you after writing to you for two weeks" you finally confess timidly.
"It's weird for me too, but I'm really happy you came. It's mean a lot to me"
She takes your hand in her and when she sees your eyes going on your intertwined hands, she thinks that it's makes you uncomfortable. But when she try to take her hand back, you squeeze it, offering her a timid smile.
"Thanks for inviting me" you say, looking in her eyes.
She smiles and seems to relax, but Sofia come back at this moment and your hands are not longer in one other.
"So, what are you plan for the next days?" Alexia asks.
"I have some interviews while the film is being edited. After that I have to travel around to make the promotion of it, the film preview... And after all that I'm taking some holidays."
"Where are you going?"
"Barcelona probably" you smirk. "We have all we need here"
Alexia smirk back and keep talking with you for more time, until Mapi and some others girls come to look after Alexia. After greeting you, the blond talks to her friend.
"We're going to the restaurant Ale, you coming?"
"Do you want to come with us?" Alexia asks, turning for looking at you.
"I have to say no for her" Sofia intervenes "Early morning interview tomorrow"
You pout but Alexia smile while nodding, kissing your cheek before leaving.
"Well that went well" Sofia comments, smiling over her drink as you touch your cheek where Alexia's lips where seconds ago.
At the same time, Alexia was sighing before taking a last look at you above her shoulder.
"What is it?" Mapi asks her best friend.
"She's so beautiful. And cute. And sweet. I wish I could talk to her longer."
"So whipped already" Mapi scoffs, drawing a frown from her own girlfriend who asks her to leave Alexia alone.
********
Ale 💘 How the interviews went?
You It was great. A little bit tiring to have to answer always the same question but it was alright. How is your knee?
Ale 💘 It's fine, like nothing happened 😊
You Thanks God. I'm happy for you really
Ale 💘 Thanks 😊 Can’t believe I’ve only been back in the field for two weeks Also two weeks since I last saw you
You About that, I have something to ask you but maybe it's a little too much ��
Ale 💘 Tell me?
You As you know, we have the Preview for the film on Thursday in Barcelona
Ale 💘 Yes?
You I was wondering if you would like to come? And maybe being my +1? I know it can be weird because we don't really saw each other physically a lot, but I thought it could be fun to go there with you. We talked a lot already and I feel like I know you, at least a little bit. Don't feel any pressure anyway, I'll understand if you are busy with something else or if you don't want to come so don't worry It's too much isn't it? 😥 You don't have to answer
Ale 💘 🤣 I would love to go with you ❤️
********
You were happy, more than that actually, when Alexia says yes to you. But now you are a mess, looking at yourself in the mirror. You don't like your dress for tonight, you don't like your make up or the way your hair are. You always choose your clothes yourself, but tonight you feel like you only made bad choices.
You want to look great for Alexia, hopping that she doesn't regret to appear at your side for tonight. You warned her that there would be journalists and photographers, but it didn’t seem to bother her. You explained to her from beginning to end the way these evenings go, from A to Z, without omitting the slightest detail. You don't want Alexia to be uncomfortable or embarrassed at any time of the evening.
"You're beautiful" Sofia smiles when she entered the room.
You shrug, still looking at you before sighing. She's your friend, of course she will tell you something like this. Before you can answer anything, someone is knocking at the door again and you let Sofia open the door.
"Hola Alexia. Great to see you here" she smiles, before leaving the room.
Alexia’s presence electrifies you and you turn to face her. You let your eyes wrap around her appearance and you almost need to sit down. She’s amazing, obviously. Is there ever a time when that hasn’t been the case? When your eyes stop on her face, you realize that she is smiling softly and you take a few steps in her direction to greet her properly. You’ve been talking non-stop for weeks now, but this is only the third time you can see her in real life.
Your arms naturally find their place around her neck when she takes you in her arms to greet you. Smiling, you extend your embrace, discreetly breathing her smell.
"I missed you" Alexia whispers in your ear
It makes you shiver and you can’t hide the smile on your face.
"I missed you too" you smile softly as you step back a bit to look at her. "You are really beautiful"
"Speak for yourself" Alexia smiles back.
Neither of you has released the other when your eyes cross and you feel your breath become short when you see that her eyes descend on your lips. It’s been a few days since you’ve wondered what it would be like to kiss Alexia, even before your discussions take a little more intimate turn. A little flirty too. You discovered a funny Alexia that makes you appreciate her even more.
When Alexia’s eyes go up on yours, looking for a form of consent, you just smile at her. No words are needed. Your heart accelerates in anticipation as she leans over you, but the door of the room suddenly opens when your lips are only a few millimeters apart.
"Y/N, we have to… Oh, sorry"
You refrain from insulting your colleague (and friend) on the screen when he enters the room suddenly, making you both jump. But your gaze must speak for you since he addresses you an excuse grimace. He looks at Alexia with curiosity, who now stands awkwardly two feets away from you.
"Alexia, this is John, my co-worker" you mumble. "John, this is Alexia"
"Great to finally meet you" John says with a smile, reaching his hand to Alexia before turning to you. "We have to go, the cars are here"
"We are coming"
He smiles again and leave. You turn yourself to Alexia, who was already looking at you.
"He never knocks on the door before entering?"
She looks annoyed and you bite your lower lip.
"I'm sorry"
"Don't be. It's not your fault."
Your eyes meet and she seems to relax a little. You offer her a hesitant hand, relieved to see that she doesn't hesitate for a second to take it.
"Are you ready to go?"
When Alexia nods, you take her with you to the exit the hotel where you prepared yourself. One of the cars supposed to take you to your destination is waiting for you and you let Alexia in before you.
"Thank you for agreeing to come with me. I imagine you must have your quota of ceremonies like this" you tell her while the car started.
"A little" confesses Alexia, shrugging her shoulders, before smiling. "But it’s for me, next time it’s you who will have to accompany me"
"With great pleasure"
A smile appears on your face and you feel your stomach doing a double-flip at the idea of spending extra time with Alexia. Enjoying the intimacy that the car offers you, you put your head on Alexia’s shoulder which intertwines your fingers to put your hands on her lap.
"After that, you have no more obligations right?" asks Alexia after a few seconds of comfortable silence.
"No more for a whole month" you confirm.
You can’t wait to have time for yourself, to sleep in the morning and just have nothing to do. To be able to stay in Barcelona, in your apartment and see your loved ones.
"Will you have time for me?" asked Alexia in a shy voice.
"Obviously" you smile softly as you look up at her.
"If I offered you a date, would you say yes?"
"I would say yes if you asked me, of course"
Your mischievous smile is seen by Alexia, who smiles back at you. This isn't exactly a officially request, but it goes in your way of operating from the beginning. Teasing, lightness and above all no anticipation of anything. No obligation, just the desire to spend time together. And other than by screen interposed for once.
When you arrive, she puts a kiss on your cheek.
"Time to shine, superstar"
You blush violently, which seems to amuse her a lot. The look of reproaches that you throw at her makes her smile, even if she addresses you a small sentence of apology.
"Sorry. But I find the fact that we’re both in the spotlight when we’re socially awkward rather amusing."
She’s absolutely right, and it’s probably one of your biggest commonalities. But it also allows you to better understand the other and you appreciate that very much.
A few minutes later, you are walking on the red carpet, trying to ignore the flashes of the photographers.
"I’ll have to take pictures" you explain to Alexia in a low voice while waiting for John to finish "Normally we take only a few before taking others with our partner, but we will avoid this point"
You cross Alexia’s eyes and quickly realize that something seems to bother her. You ask her with your eyes and you are once again pleasantly surprised at the simplicity with which she seems to be able to confide in you.
"Don’t you want to be seen with me?"
"Yes, of course. But you…"
"I don’t mind. On the contrary."
After looking in her eyes for a few seconds and realizing that she's telling you the truth, you nod with a shy smile. That wasn’t the reason you invited her, after all, you’re not a couple. But you’re glad she wants to pose with you.
After taking some pictures alone, you invite her to join you by raising your hand to her. She takes it quietly, putting a hand in the hollow of your back. And you need all your concentration to stay focused on what’s going on. You look at her and smile back at her, before looking again at the photographs.
When a few extra flashes have burned your retina, you take her hand again to take her with you in the comfort offered by the cinema.
You stop by several journalists to answer more questions, still without releasing Alexia’s hand. She gives you a reassuring smile every time you turn in her direction and ask her how she feels.
After a while, you finally find your seats in one of the first rows of the cinema. At one point you received a drink and you put it on your armrest to turn towards Alexia.
"Are you okay? I know it can be a lot" you apologize, biting your lip.
"You had warned me. I'm alright, don't worry" gently reminds you a smiling Alexia.
You hum for any answer, letting yourself go against the back of your chair.
"And on top of that, a first date at the cinema isn't so unusual" smiles Alexia.
It makes you laugh and when you look at her, her eyes sparkle with malice. In spite of yourself, you think about the missed kiss in the hotel room and when you see Alexia’s look slip on your lips, you know that she thinks about it too.
You really want to kiss her right now, but the director and the producer are suddenly in front of the crowd to thanks people to be here. You don't really listen to what they say, really aware of Alexia's fingers brushing against your arm.
During the film, you can't stop looking at her to see her reactions. You talked to her about the film, but you didn't give her all the details. You loved seeing her smile, laugh or frown.
"Internet is going crazy" Sofia informs you both when the film is over.
You and Alexia followed the others into the reception room where there are petits fours and countryside. You exchanged a few discussions with several people in the field, making sure to always include Alexia in one way or another. Most of your interlocutors obviously know her, she remains a world famous sportswoman.
"Why?" you ask Sofia naively, gently frowning.
"You show up with one of the best players in the world after being officially single for years. Try again" laughs Sofia rolling her eyes.
"Oh" you just blush slightly.
Alexia smirks at you, before taking a sip of her drink. The idea of being seen with Alexia doesn't bother you, you wouldn't have invited her if it had been the case. But you’ll probably never understand people’s interest in other people’s privacy.
"Do you want to get some fresh air?" Alexia suggests pointing to the balcony with a nod.
You nod and follow her quietly. The fresh air from the outside is nice and the fact that the balcony overlooks an inner courtyard that doesn't show you to the rest of the world is just as nice.
"Are you having a good time?" you ask, looking closely at Alexia.
"Very good yes. It would have been difficult otherwise, I am in very good company after all"
You smile softly at her and give yourself control by finishing the glass that you held until now in your hand.
"Can I ask you something?" asked Alexia shortly afterwards.
"Of course" you answer by looking at her curiously.
"Sofia said you were officially single for years"
"Yes?"
"What does she mean by officially? Did you have someone hiding or something like that?"
"Oh... No, not at all. I was really focused on my career and it's always hard to manage a relationship when you are always everywhere in the world"
You shrug, but can't escape the inquisitive looks Alexia sends you.
"So... Hooks up?"
You widen your eyes before shaking your head negatively.
"No. It's not... I mean I'm not into this kind of things" you begin before stopping and looking at Alexia hesitantly "You're going to think I'm weird or something"
"I promise I'm not" Alexia smiles, grabbing your hand.
"I had someone but the distance was hard and we just fall apart. I haven't been with someone since" you mumble, blushing once again. "I... For me, sex and love are coming together"
Alexia is still smiling but you only have to look in her eyes to learn that she's not making fun of you.
"You are the sweetest girl in the world."
You roll your eyes and feel your body shiver when she put a strand of hair behind your ear. Taking advantage that you are alone, you press your face on her hand and gently kiss her wrist. You lost yourself in her eyes once again, studying at length each of Alexia’s facial features. She leans again in your direction and her breath caresses your lips when you hear John’s voice sound behind you again.
"What?!" you snap, turning in his direction.
"I… uh. The producer was looking for you, he wanted to introduce you to a friend of his" "I’m coming" you sigh with annoyance
You don’t listen to his stuttering excuses, preferring to take a deep breath to calm down. Why does the whole world seem determined to stop you from exchanging your first kiss with Alexia?
"I better go" you sigh softly as you turn towards the door.
But, before you can make the slightest step, you feel Alexia’s hand grab your arm and draw you against her. Your eyes cross for a few seconds before her lips are on yours. Her lips blend perfectly with yours and you step on your toes to prolong the kiss. Your arms wrap around her neck and head, trying to be as close to her as possible.
Her hands slide on your back and her whole smell fills you. She's everywhere and you don't know if it's that or the lack of oxygen, but you feel yourself like floating.
"Now you can go if you want" Alexia mumble against your lips, as breathless as you are.
"I'm not sure if I want to" you admit, slightly blushing.
"Do you want to go home?"
Alexia only lets half a second pass before adding something to what she just said, as if she had just realized something.
"I mean… not going back, but you know… I mean, we didn’t really spend time just physically. Well, physically, I mean in front of each other not…"
"Alexia, stop" you smile softly, putting an end to Alexia’s agony.
She seems to be grateful to you because she takes her breath while looking at you, although dancing nervously from one foot to the other.
"Sorry, it was weird" Alexia rolls her eyes.
"It reassures me a little, little things you were out of the socialy awkward category" you smile maliciously before adding "Let's go home."
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carionto · 8 months
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We'll do it our way
Been reading a bunch of Humans are Space Orcs and the like, and got me thinking - what if when aliens found humanity and our level of technology and method of propulsion for space travel, they decided that since explosions are way too hazardous and risky, that they're just not gonna let us leave on our vessels (via BS alien magic space tech). As a sort of intergalactic rite of passing (and poor results in the past of elevating a species like that), we have to figure out on our own how to not blow ourselves up once in space. But humans can be spiteful. We "have" to go in a direction they want? Fuck that. Aliens put a dome around Earth so we can't leave? Okay, that's a clear and practical problem to solve. Let's fix that instead!
_____________________________________
It had been just over sixty local cycles since First Contact with Humanity, and exactly sixty since the Federation had unanimously deemed it necessary to position a Responsibility Barrier around Earth.
Through countless observation relays, mass field generators, warp inhibitors (and the less spoken of and even less used laser batteries), any vessel - outside of local communication satellites, unmanned research vessels, or suborbital test vehicles - were prevented from leaving the planet.
Upon discovering Humanity, the Exploratory Commission Fleet quickly discovered a very hardy, innovative, diverse, violent, and adaptable advanced civilization on the cusp of entering the interstellar stage. There was one problem. Humans used explosions. For. Everything.
Their orbital spaces were already littered with micro-debris from their regular ventures into the local system. Practically every type of propulsion utilized highly volatile solutions, and they didn't even pretend to hide or be embarrassed by their history of weaponizing, well, anything and everything to be frank.
Wars and violence were common among nearly all sentient species, but there was something… peculiar, about how nonchalant the Human diplomats were about their supposed "solutions" to "tragedies" of the past.
We explained to them the dangers of their methods, showed examples of what happens when such line of thinking, without discarding these explosive ways, leads to - impassable fields of junk around once well traveled planets, now isolated; hastily jettisoned parts causing mayhem and destruction years down the line; entire Habitation Stations and their occupants reduced to faint rings around their homeworld from an "unplanned ignition"
We explained why we could not simply give them our safe technology, as they have to on their own give up the irresponsible ways first, lest they turned what was once safe into yet another means to an end. They "said" they understood, but it was all too clear the Humans would not follow our advice just like that. Hence the Barrier. This really angered the Humans.
They said it was stifling, that it was barbaric to "imprison" them like that. We tried to explained again why, but they would not listen, but we knew better. This had happened before and we would not allow it to happen again. It was for the greater good of both the Humans and the rest of the Galaxy.
For nearly sixty of their cycles, Humanity continued to advance and develop and flourish. We watched them with excitement at every new avenue of research they steered towards, silently encouraged them to keep going with every failure. They were getting close in several fields, we could see that Humanity was on the precipice of the right track. Then, one day, with a slight shimmer enveloping the planet and an eerie silence on all frequencies, the Earth just… vanished.
The Humans kept their true activity a secret, only after careful analysis of seemingly unrelated and unremarkable records did we figure out they were investigating a long abandoned line of research by all others in the galaxy - interdimensional travel. But there were no other traversable dimensions. That had long been tested by everyone - you can twist and bend and cut through the ones we have, but you are always bound to at least one of them.
It remained a mystery as to what truly happened to Humanity. Officially it was called a tragic scientific accident on an unprecedented scale. Earth and Humanity were memorialized as a bright species with infinite potential, but a recklessness that would serve as one of the starkest examples in the annals of Galactic history.
Until, nearly a millennia later, Earth just… popped back in. Right where it would have been had it continued to orbit around their star, almost as if that's exactly what it had been doing.
There was only a memorial station close to its original orbit, and some small research outposts dotted around the local system - it was decided to not terraform or colonize any of Sol's planets or install major stations within the system, as both a sign of respect to the deceased and a warning to all about the dangers of foolish science.
By the time the scrambled and panicked messages reached the nearest Coalition world and a small squad sent to investigate, everything had changed. Not only did they find Earth and Humanity, they were met by dozens of the largest space worthy vessels anyone had ever conceived of let alone dared to construct; orbital shipyards that each would put the production capacity of whole planetary SYSTEMS to shame; and a defiant attitude unmatched even by the previously thought exaggerated tales of our brief history with Humanity before the Vanishing.
The message we received from the Humans was simple:
"Thanks for the advice, but we do things our way. Now, let's start over, from an equal footing, shall we?"
(more while we were gone)
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strawbeerossi · 11 months
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If You Leave Me
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Pairing: Fem!reader x Spencer Reid
Description: After coming home, Spencer has nightmares of his wife leaving him after the weight of prison weighs on him after his release.
Content Warnings: Depression, mentions of problems with eating, nightmares, fear of abandonment, mention of parental abandonment, spoilers for the prison arc, mentions of blood and being beaten, anxiety, there’s a panic attack, general angst, light fluff towards the end
Word Count: 1.4K
Navigation || Masterlist || Join My Taglist || Request
'The Show' is so amazing, so I might make more based on each song on the album.
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“Change is the law of life. And those who look only to the past or present are certain to miss the future.” John F Kennedy.
Spencer had faced change for his whole life. Between his father leaving him with no explanation when he was a child to his mother’s schizophrenia spiralling, he was the poster child for adapting to the plethora of things that life can throw at you and making the best of things.
Child abandonment coupled with a mother whose illness was worsening, there was a lot of pressure on him at a young age. Spencer wanted to take care of his mother, make sure she was safe and sound. He enjoyed lying with her and reading, spending his time with the woman who he cared for. He struggled with making many friends.
Not a lot of high schoolers want to be friends with a twelve-year-old child prodigy. He was the target of relentless bullying, his safest place being home where he could read in the comfort of his own bedroom.
Most children who had any form of trauma as a child turned out to be psychopaths, incapable of empathy and most who exhibited those symptoms were serial killers, he was quite the opposite. Spencer would say that he turned out alright. 
Three PHDs, being a supervisory special agent for the Behavioral Analysis Unit, as well as being a literal genius. He had a team of people who loved him dearly, a good amount of godchildren who he adored, as well as a beautiful wife who did so much for him.
When Spencer was imprisoned, his experience killed a piece of him. The once sweet, innocent Dr. Spencer Reid was now a man who was more prone to showing his complex emotions, his temperament changing. He wasn’t nearly as talkative, he was having a harder time processing things that used to take him mere seconds to understand. It was why they had placed him on a weird schedule; every one hundred days spent in the field would have thirty days off following behind. He thought it was the stupidest decision they made.
Despite all of his protests, nobody would hear him out. It brought on the thoughts of him being untrustworthy. After all, he did kill Nadie Ramos. He may have been under the influence of drugs but that didn’t excuse a damn thing. He killed her with his bare hands. 
That haunted him. The fact that he could be capable of madness, capable of murder. It didn’t help that soon after, he was producing a tampered batch of drugs that he was being forced to push within those four cement walls.
Everyone told him that it wasn’t his fault, that some people were pushed to dark acts in order to ensure their survival. After all, a federal agent in the general population sector was a huge target, someone who would have a lot of enemies. Too many enemies.
After his release, there came a plethora of emotions. Y/N was a saint, patient as could be and more loving than he ever could’ve hoped for. Even when he was dissociating into his mind to shield him from all too familiar territory, she was right there. It had gotten to a point where he severely depended on her, the attachment so strong that he would follow her around the house as if he were a kitten who needed constant attention. 
Dinner was hard, the man having to be reminded that he could take his time to eat and he had no risk of someone coming and taking it whether he allowed them to or not. There were nights where he wouldn’t take a packet of cookies from his wife, stressing over having to ‘pay her back’. It took a lot to break him out of that routine.
Don’t get him started on the nightmares. They were vivid, placing him back to the night when he was beaten in prison or to the day where Luis Delgado had his throat slit in front of him because of his own choices. It was like he could still feel the warmth of the crimson blood staining his hands in the failed attempt to stop the bleeding. 
In addition to nightmares that were filled with blood and violence, there was another recurring nightmare. One that killed him more than any sort of guilt of association ever could. It started out the same way every time, he would come in the house after a long winded case. There would be a lot of stress on his shoulders, a tightening in his chest because of the fact the case didn’t end the way the team had anticipated. He would then walk into the kitchen, where Y/N would be waiting for him. There was no sweet greeting, no kiss against his lips while she hugged him and cried about missing him. 
Instead there was a tense silence, the usually warm apartment freezing. She would turn to him, her eyes filled with exhaustion, no glimmer of love shining over them as they faced one another.
“I can’t do this anymore. You aren’t who you used to be, this time by myself has made me realize that I am much happier without you here. I don’t have to coddle you, treat you like a baby. I just can’t bring myself to love you anymore.” 
Spencer was waking up in a cold sweat, his body jolting upwards on the mattress while his other hand was quickly, yet cautiously reaching beside him to feel his wife’s shoulder. The touch had Y/N stirring awake, a gentle frown on her face. “Spencer?” Her voice was filled with drowsiness, her hands slowly pushing her to sit up on her knees while her free hand was leaning over to turn on the bedside lamp. 
Any form of annoyance from drowsiness was wiped away when she noticed her husband’s state. His face was drenched in sweat, his chest was heaving from the impending anxiety attack, he was unable to talk as his body trembled. “Shh, hey.” Y/N whispered as she was shuffling closer, pulling back the duvet so she could carefully pull her husband into her arms. 
Her fingers were threading through the messy curls, a weak sigh leaving her lips as she could feel his arms tightly wrap around her torso, practically squeezing the life out of her.
“I’m here. It’s okay, baby, I promise. Luis dream again?” She asked softly, her lips pressing a kiss to the crown of his skull.
“You left.” His voice was hoarse, the tears joining in soaking his face the same way that the sweat had done over the course of the night. “Baby..” Y/N whispered while her fingers were lightly scratching over his scalp, her cheek resting against his head as she was being hugged tightly, as if she would disappear if Spencer let her go. “I’m not going anywhere. You know that.” Her words were dipped in that sweet assurance, her eyes slowly fluttering shut. 
Spencer faced enough people who abandoned him in his life with little to no explanation, she could never be added to that list. He spent three long and gruelling months in a maximum security prison for a murder that he was pushed into doing under the influence of a drug that Cat Adams and Lindsey Vaughn got their hands on. 
This wasn’t like he was a man who snapped and murdered an innocent woman because of deterioration of his sanity. He was absolutely nothing like the men and women he hunted down for his job, she tried to push that every time that she could. “You’re a good man, you know that. I would be a fool to leave you.” She said softly. 
As her body was eventually laying down against the mattress, she couldn’t help but smile once Spencer quickly followed her movements. Her legs were spreading in order to invite him between them, the male laying on top of her as his head was against her chest. “There we go..” She cooed softly, her fingers continuing to comb through the tousled curls. 
With his cheek now smashed against his wife’s chest, he listened to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. 
The drumbeat mixed his wife’s sweet words of assurance and the warmth of her love radiating against him was enough to have Spencer starting to drift off to sleep. 
How did he manage to get so lucky to have a woman who wouldn’t give up on him?
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wosoimagines · 6 months
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Celebrations - Vivianne Miedema/Reader
prompt: Arsenal celebrates Viv finally making her return from her ACL injury.
warnings: none
words: 4587
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(Y/N) POV
I grinned as I wrapped my arms around Viv’s waist as I picked her up to spin her around. Viv scoffed in my arms before I put her down. She shook her head at me as I only followed behind her.
“Come on, Viv! Be excited! You’re back!” I cheered. Viv only rolled her eyes. “Come on, darling. It’s been three hundred and eleven days. You’re allowed to get excited and celebrate coming back.”
“We’ll celebrate when I actually get subbed onto the pitch,” Viv said.
I shrugged at that. I knew that Viv had been nervous about coming back, but I had been there every step of the way to assure her that she was going to be okay. I had missed getting to play with Viv for so long now and I knew that Jonas was going to sub her on even if it was just for a few minutes.
I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t keep my excitement in. Katie was right there with me. Not that it surprised any of us since Katie was consider the president of Viv’s fan club.
Honestly, I was just really looking for when Viv would finally get to start again. I couldn’t wait to play with her in the starting eleven again.
“Schatje,” Viv called out. I paused my animated retelling of my most recent trip home to turn to Viv. I grinned when Viv motioned in front of her. “Come sit.”
I abandoned my storytelling as I made my way over to where Viv was before I felt her running her hands through my hair so that she could pull it up for me. It was a small thing we had started after Viv realized how nervous I got before games during my first season with Arsenal.
It wasn’t long before Katie came to sit in front of me so that the two of us could talk about how excited we were for our national team camps that would be coming up. Everyone would be flying out the next morning to get to their respective camps.
While I couldn’t wait to go home and see all my national teammates, I was a bit bummed out that Viv wouldn’t be able to come watch my games this time around as she would finally be back with the Dutch National Team. Viv had assured me that she would still make time to watch my matches though as I promised to watch hers as well.
“What are you most excited for, (Y/N)?”
“Tobin and Christen said they’d come out to catch the second game since it’s in San Diego,” I said with a grin.
It was no secret that Tobin and Christen had taken me under their wing when I joined the national team. My Arsenal teammates had been surprised though when I had finally convinced Tobin to join Arsenal and they had seen just how close the two of us were. But I hadn’t had much of a chance to see the two while preparing for the World Cup and helping Viv rehab, all the while both Tobin and Christen were dealing with their own injuries.
“You must miss them, huh?” Katie asked as she nudged my foot with her own. “All of your national teammates?”
My situation was a bit different from everyone else’s on the team, it seemed. Pretty much everyone else at Arsenal had someone from the same country as them on the team. Or they at least knew someone who was playing the WSL that they knew from their national team.
Lindsey was my closest teammate and even then, she was in France. Well, I guess that I did have Catarina Macario and Mia Fishel both were still so new to the team that I wasn’t that close to either of them. I was closer to Jessie Flemming than I was to either of them.
“Yeah, I really do miss them,” I nodded. I hadn’t been called up for our September friendlies after I had been publicly critical of Vlatko and the USSF for keeping him around for so long, but the federation knew that they would only be able to keep me off the team for a short amount of time before there was clear outcry to have me back. “Besides, Becky’s going to be back in camp, so we’ll finally get Captain America back on the field. Maybe we’ll get her to finally score too.”
“Yeah, good luck with that,” Katie said.
Viv pressed a kiss to the top of my head before she moved from where she was sitting. I let Katie help me up before the two of us had headed out to get lined up since we were both starting today.
While we were waiting in the tunnel I couldn’t help as I kept bouncing on my heels. This should be a good game for us after all. Plus, we had a celebration dinner planned for after the game for Viv’s return.
The second the whistle blew to start the match I knew that it was going to be a rough one. Not that it completely surprised me, Bristol hadn’t won a match yet this year and no one ever wanted to start the season off with four losses so they would try their hardest to stop that from happening. That meant targeting Alessia and staying on my back as well.
Honestly, it was a pretty smart tactic. Alessia’s temper could almost rival Katie’s and that was saying something. If they could draw Alessia into getting a yellow, or even a red, it would shift the game.
There was just one major detail that Bristol was forgetting.
We’ve got McCabe.
Katie scored a banger in the seventh minute giving us the advantage that we had all expected to have.
But it was just two minutes later that the advantage came crashing down.
I had made a run for the ball but struggled to get my balance as I had taken a small shove from one of the Bristol players that sent me crashing to the ground. I had heard the dreaded pop our recent ACL squad at Arsenal had described as I hit the ground. I was immediately clutching at my knee even as play continued around me.
Katie was the first one to realize that I was actually hurt as I hadn’t gotten up yet. She was quick to fight to get the ball back before kicking it out so that the play would stop. She was also the first one over to me.
“Please, tell me it’s your ankle,” Katie said as she knelt on the ground next to me. I clenched my teeth as I shook my head. “(Y/N), please tell me it’s something other than your knee.”
“I’d love to,” I said, causing Katie to let out a sigh of relief. It was always worrying, no matter what color jersey a player wore, when they went down because it seemed like a majority of injuries these days were ACL injuries. “But it’s definitely my knee.”
“Okay,” Katie nodded. I saw her briefly turn to signal for a sub so I could go off. “It’s gonna be okay. Maybe it isn’t that bad.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
I wasn’t surprised by our other teammates coming to check on me or how Kim also stayed close.
“Just a sprain, yeah?” Katie suggested. I glanced up to see that Kim didn’t look super confident in that possibility. “Or just a hyperextended knee? So long as you didn’t hear a pop there’s a chance it isn’t your ACL. Did you hear a pop?”
My eyes caught where Viv was standing on the sideline. I couldn’t let her stand there and worry about me. Not when we were supposed to celebrate her return.
The trainers were close enough to us that they were able to hear our conversation.
“I didn’t hear a pop or feel one,” I assured Katie. I knew that Irish woman would be angry with me when the news did come out because I was already certain that it was my ACL, but I refused to be the reason that Viv’s night was ruined. “I’m sure these guys will take good care of me and have me back on the field in no time.”
Katie nodded as the trainers moved next to me. Kim grabbed ahold of Katie’s arm to pull her up.
“Come on, Katie,” Kim softly coaxed the Irish woman. “(Y/N) will be all right. Let’s get out of the way and let the trainers do their thing.”
Katie hesitated but I smiled at her and nodded so she went with Kim while I let the trainers help roll me over. I brought my hand to cover up my mouth so that no one would be able to read my lips.
“It definitely popped,” I admitted behind my hand. The trainers froze at that because I had just told Katie that it didn’t. “Don’t tell the team. I don’t want to ruin Viv’s night with my own torn ACL.”
“You sure?”
“I heard it and felt it pop. It’s definitely torn.”
The trainers nodded before they moved to load me on the stretcher. I knew that it was something that had become precautionary with all the severe knee injuries so many players had been through recently.
They carried me off the field, but I let them stop so that Viv could check on me once we reached the tunnel, so it was a bit more private. I sent her a soft smile as she crouched so that she was at my height as she cupped my face.
“Your knee?” Viv asked.
“I doubt it’s that serious. It doesn’t feel that bad, I promise,” I assured her. I couldn’t help how the guilt gnawed at me as I said the words because I knew that she would be upset and worried when she did find out that my ACL was torn. “They’re just taking me out on the stretcher as a precaution. I’ll be back from the hospital for dinner. Right, guys?”
There was a course of yeses from the trainers.
Viv sighed as she nodded her head before pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“I’ll see you later, Schatje.”
“Hey,” I said as I reached out and grabbed a hold of her wrist when she went to walk away. I grinded my teeth together at the aching pain that came from my knee at the slight movement. Viv bit her lip at my reaction. “I’m going to fine, okay? Tonight’s about you. I know that Jonas is going to get you on the field, and I know that it isn’t going to be how we planned it with both of us being on the field, but, Viv, you deserve to be back out there. Enjoy that, yeah?”
Viv slowly nodded her head, and I gave her one last small smile before I kissed the back of her hand and let her go.
“No one tells Jonas until after the team has gone out,” I said once Viv was out of hearing range.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You okay, kid?”
“I’m fine.”
Becky had been the first to call me. I had seen all the texts that my national teammates had sent me, but Becky was the one I had answered first. I was hesitant to text Tobin or Christen back. I knew that they would call me as soon as they knew I was out of the hospital, but I didn’t know how long I would last talking with them on the phone before I broke down.
Tobin and Christen weren’t just my team moms. They were my safety net. They had been the ones I went to when my anxiety about playing started to get to me. They were the ones who had convinced me to finally ask Viv out and they had been there through the hardest times in my life. But this was one of the worst setbacks I had, and it was at the worst time with the Olympics only nine months away.
I didn’t even know how long I would make it before asking Tobin and Christen to fly over to help me out while Viv was away at camp. I knew that they would do it too, but I couldn’t help but feel guilty for even thinking about asking them when they both had so much on their own plates already.
“How bad is it?”
I froze at the question. I, logically, knew that Becky would be the one they’d have call me to get information about my injury since she was our team captain, and we were in between coaches at the moment.
“My ACL is torn,” I admitted. I ran a hand over my face as I stayed in the car that was sitting outside the restaurant. Kim had stuck around to wait for me to get back to London Coloney with a couple of trainers. I had assured her that I was fine and that I just had to call Becky to give her an update so she could tell our national team. “I don’t even know what I’m going to do about surgery. Viv’s supposed to head to her own national camp tomorrow. But the longer I put it off, the longer I’ll have no idea what my timetable to return would look like.”
“Okay, you talk it over with Viv and get a gameplan with the medical staff at Arsenal and keep me updated.”
I knew that would be the next step. I sighed as I looked at the restaurant entrance. I wasn’t going to ruin Viv’s celebration so our talk would have to wait until after dinner. It really was unfortunate that we had to have such a quick turnaround between our game tonight and the national camps that everyone was leaving for tomorrow.
“Hey, Becky?” I called out before she could hang up the phone. “I know the federation wants you to report back to them tonight, but do you think it can wait until tomorrow?”
“Kid, they need to know as soon as possible.”
“I know, but it was Viv’s first game back from her ACL. I didn’t let her know how bad it was when they took me off. I didn’t tell her that I heard the pop,” I explained. Viv deserved to be able to celebrate this without having to worry about me. “I just want her to be able to celebrate finally getting back on the field for a game. I’m going to tell her tonight, but I want to be the one to do it. Not the team breaking the news.”
“Okay, but I call them at eight o’clock tonight,” Becky relented. I nodded in relief even though she couldn’t see me. “That’s like four hours. So, you make sure you tell her before then.”
“I will. I promise.”
We wrapped up our conversation as I made her promise to let the rest of the girls know that I missed all of them and I was upset that I wouldn’t be there to see them but that I trusted that they would win without me.
I took a moment to compose myself before I grabbed the crutches from the back of the car to head into the restaurant. I was slower to get back to the private room where the others already were. I could see the worry in my teammates faces when they saw the crutches. But my eyes met with Viv’s as I ignored our teammates.
Viv’s eyes darted down to the knee that I had hurt as she immediately started to fidget with the rings on her fingers. I started to make my way toward her before I took a seat next to her. Once I had the crutches leaned against the wall that was behind us, I grabbed ahold of her hand.
“It’s fine. Just hyperextended,” I assured her. Viv’s shoulders dropped in relief. “Doc said to get rest and the trainers will reevaluate next week to see how it’s looking. I’ll be back on the field in no time. I promise.”
Viv smiled at that as she gave my hand a tight squeeze. The guilt hit me hard as I watched the worry disappear from Viv’s eyes. I knew it was cruel to give her this false hope, but I didn’t want to ruin this for her.
“Great! That means you’ll be back with us in no time!” Katie cheered. I shook my head as Viv and I both turned to look at her. “Just too bad you won’t be going to national camp now.”
I rolled my eyes. I didn’t need to think about that right now. Especially because it still hadn’t really hit just yet that I was going to be missing out on seeing some of my best friends for the second camp in a row.
“Just wait, McCabe. Once Beth, Viv, and I all get back on the field, it’ll be your spot that I take, and you’ll be the one riding the bench.”
Katie gasped at that before she pretended that I had actually hurt her. I couldn’t help but smile as Viv laughed at Katie.
As our night moved along, I found myself forgetting about the injury I had just sustained and instead lost myself in the celebration. It wasn’t even anything big we did for Viv. We didn’t even focus too much attention on her, but Viv honestly did love being around the rest of the team.
While she hadn’t been completely separated from the team during her injury and rehab, she had missed getting to spend as much time as she was used to with the rest of the team. I had also been careful to limit how much either of us committed to team bonding nights, especially when it was game nights knowing that as much as she pretended to hate the games, Viv was one of the most competitive people I knew, and she would have been upset by the number of games she couldn’t join in.
It was nice to see her enjoying herself with the rest of the team.
Aside from being the newest one on the team to be injured, today was amazing. Even as dinner was winding down and some of our teammates started to make their leave. Katie assuring both Viv and I that she was covering our meals tonight as the president of Viv’s fan club.
Of course, we could only go for so long though before something had to go wrong when our squad was around.
I hadn’t even been paying attention to the Aussies who were messing around next to the table that Viv and I were still sitting at as we both quietly talked to each other. I knew that the two of us would be making our leave soon as Viv was obviously worn out from the day.
I moved to slide out of my seat, but that proved to be the wrong thing to do because as soon as I had turned so that I could maneuver my way to my feet, Kyra had taken off to get away from Caitlin who was trying to chase her. Which meant that both of them collided with my recently injured knee.
I gasped as I tried to hold back the tears while I turned back in my seat to keep it from being ran into again. I was very away of how all of the attention had been turned to me.
The aching pain that I had been able to ignore all night was back and it was ten times worse now. It was so bad that I couldn’t even process the apologies coming from Kyra and Caitlin. Viv was quick to move around the table so that she could be on the side I was trying to get out from as she waited for the pain to subside.
“Did they give you anything for the pain?” Viv asked.
I shook my head before I fished out the prescription from my jacket pocket.
“I have a prescription, but I’ll have to get it from the pharmacy tomorrow.”
Viv took the prescription from me. I was also a bit surprised to find that she had shooed the others away so that we were in the room by ourselves.
“Why would they give you a prescription if you just hyperextended your knee?”
I sighed at the question. I really didn’t want to do this here. I would do it at home, but not here where anyone could hear us.
“(Y/N), they wouldn’t give this to you if you hyperextended your knee. Especially not a prescription for this much,” Viv pointed out. I knew that she had figured it out. Viv looked up at me as I felt my shoulder slump forward. I was already over this injury, and I had only had it for about five hours. “Why would they write you a prescription?”
“Not here, Viv.”
“Yes, here.”
“No. I’m not doing this here,” I said. Viv scoffed as she looked away from me. “We can talk about it as soon as we get home where it’ll be a private talk, but I’m not going to do this in public.”
Viv huffed as she stayed crouched in front of me for a moment before helping me up and situated with my crutches. Our walk outside was a silent one until we actually reached outside. Once we were outside, I found myself saying goodbye to our teammates and assuring both Kyra and Caitlin that I would be fine.
Viv stayed by my side as we made our way to the car. She even helped me get into the car. Something that we had mastered when she tore ACL, but it was a little awkward now. Both of us were used to doing the other’s role.
Viv stayed silent the whole ride back to our apartment. This morning’s playlist to get us both excited about the match we had today was the only thing keeping us from complete silence inside the car.
Even when we got home, Viv stayed quiet. She had gotten both of our bags out without a sound and followed me into the building. Her watching me struggle with the door for a moment before she held it open all the way so that I could get in without having to worry if the door was going to close on me or not. She stayed behind me as we made our way into the building.
I wasn’t sure if she refused to move in front of me just so she wouldn’t have to face me or if it was just because she was afraid that I’d fall and she thought she had a better chance at catching me if she was behind me.
Our trip from the elevator to our apartment took longer than normal as I was getting used to the crutches and couldn’t move as fast as Viv had eventually been able to. But once we were inside of our apartment, I moved to sit on the couch. I was fully prepared to sleep on the couch as well if she was mad enough at me. After all she was the one that would be going to a national camp tomorrow, so she’d need a better rest than me.
“I was going to tell you,” I assured her as she took a seat on the couch once our bags were put up. “I promise I was.”
“And did you plan on telling me before or after I left for camp?”
“I’m not a complete asshole, Viv. I was going to tell you as soon as we got home. But I knew what tonight meant for you. Three hundred and eleven days and you finally got back on the field. You deserved to celebrate with your friends. I wasn’t just going to let you skip that to baby me when I’m fine.”
“You tore your ACL! I don’t think you get what that’s like! Take it from some‒”
“I know! I know,” I cut her off. I couldn’t stop the tears that were threatening to fall as it was all finally catching up to me. “I’ll be out for at least six months, but it will more than likely be closer to nine before I can get on the field again. I’ll probably miss the Olympics because if it takes me nine months to come back then there’s no way I’ll be in form to go to the Olympics. And I’ll probably have more bad days than good ones.”
“When are you having surgery?”
“I don’t know, Viv. It just happened tonight. I’ll probably go talk to the team medics and a doctor tomorrow to figure out a plan.”
“I’ll call Jonker and let him know that I won’t be at camp.”
“No. No!” I moved forward to snatch her phone away from her. Viv tried to reach for it, but I moved back as far as I could. “You’re not doing that! You’re going to camp. I’m not letting you ruin everything you’ve worked for because of me.”
“You were there for me! Why can’t I be there for you?”
“I’m not saying that you can’t be. But you’re not putting your own career on hold because I have to have a surgery.”
“Then what about while I’m gone? It a lot harder to take care of yourself when you’re on crutches than you think.”
I sighed as I pinched the bridge of my nose. We were getting nowhere with this.
“Beth and Leah and Laura are all still going to be here. None of them were called up,” I pointed out. I hadn’t really thought about asking any of them if they’d be okay to help me out. “I can always ask them to help me. I’m sure that Tobin or Christen wouldn’t mind flying over to help me out for a couple of days.”
“I want to be able to take care of you like you took care of me,” Viv admitted as she moved closer to me. I sighed as I threaded a hand in her hair. “It’s scary and I would have never gotten through my own injury without you. I want us to be able to play together again and that means that you’ve got to get through this, but it’s hard and so emotionally draining.”
“And you are the one that’s going to get me through it,” I said. Viv perked up a little at that. “But I’m not going to let you sacrifice your own career because of mine. Especially not when you just got yours back. So, you’re going to camp.”
“But what about your surgery?”
I sighed as I moved my hand to play with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck. It knew that Viv always calmed down when I did that.
“I’ll wait to schedule it until you’re back from camp. And I’ll make sure that it won’t clash with the Manchester City game,” I assured Viv. Viv sighed before nodding in agreement. “Besides, between the girls who weren’t called up and our medical team, I’ll be well taken care of while you’re gone. And I’ll be sure to talk to you every day.”
“And if it ever feels like you’re drowning, you’ll tell me so that I can be there to pull you up like you did for me, right?”
“Right.”
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jojissalsa · 5 months
Text
Dangerous Game (part one)
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you get a new job as a federal agent for the F.O.S, and now you're stuck dealing with the reckless D.S.O agent, Leon Kennedy.
Warnings: dom/older!Leon, sub!reader, slight age gap (reader is in late 20s, up to y'all), dirty thoughts, masturbation (f and m). this one is fairly tame. kinda.
WC: 2.8k
an: hey y'all!! i'm hoping to make this into a 3 parter, felt like my idea is a lil too big for just one fic, that's why this one is probably a tad more tame compared my previous stuff. as per usual, critique, reposts and requests are welcome! enjoy <3 (minors do not interact, go touch grass.)
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Working for the Field Operations Support is fairly easy, you got a nice seat at the front desk as the receptionist, you’ve worked there for a good couple of years. Nothing crazy ever happened, and everyone respected you pretty well. Especially Hunnigan. Well, Ingrid to you, Hunnigan to your coworkers. You always respected her the most, always envious of her job. You initially applied for her job, but you could take being a receptionist. You could live vicariously through her, since she seemed to like you the most in and outside of work. Hunnigan was always so sweet, giving you a pleasant smile and a morning chat whenever she’d come in for work, bringing you lunch as you two got closer. That also opened the door to lots of girl talk, mainly about how stressful the job was sometimes. Hunnigan loved her job, truly, but it came with heavy challenges. A very heavy one would be Leon Kennedy, a D.S.O agent she’s worked with for a majority of her career.
You’ve heard some of the horror stories from her about the bioweapons, insidious cults and rich white guys that try to carry on Umbrella’s work but fail miserably every time. This time seemed a bit different though, more final for her. “Honestly, the guy is an idiot sometimes. Likable, but an idiot.” You snicker at how nice she’s being for how pissed she looks, angrily sipping her coffee from the breakroom. “I think you mean he’s a lovable dumbass, but I guess that works too.” You chuckle softly, stirring sugar into your own fresh cup of coffee. “Hey, I’m serious this time. I mean, come on, I’m getting older.” Hunnigan watches as you sit down across from her, a worried expression starting to take over your features. “You really think it’s time to call it quits?” “Maybe not quitting just yet, just maybe looking over a different agent. Spots are starting to open up y’know.” Your eyebrows shoot up at that, trying to hide your excitement as you look down to sip your coffee. “Well, maybe I can take your spot? I’m pretty confident, and I’ve done all the training.” She shares your new found excitement, reaching out to put her hand over yours. “I’ll pull some strings, okay? I think we both need a change of scenery.” Her sweet smile never fails to spread to you, you can trust her. She’s been your best friend, if you’re being honest, and you’re sure she shares the same sentiment.
It didn’t take long for those strings to be pulled, and soon you were standing in front of the President and a few other important men in nice suits, watching as you shake hands and smile awkwardly. Finally, you get a briefing on the infamous federal agent you would be helping. Leon Scott Kennedy. He’s got a good reputation with everyone in the room, saying that while he may have an “eccentric” personality, he’s a hard working man, compliments all coming from the President. You heard about it from Hunnigan and a few other agents that he saved his daughter from a deathly cult, and brought it all down in the same day. You could tell from his file that he clearly worked a lot, even if he didn’t get this job on his own violation. Sucks that he was forced into his life, but it’s good that he’s making it work. Seems like a good looking guy too, at least from the small picture of him clipped to the folder.
And now you’re waiting for that good looking guy to walk into your new office, setting down a few knick-knacks you had on your previous desk. You turn your head to the sound of someone walking in, your eyes widening as they set on the man who seemed to be searching for someone. Good looking was an understatement of the century. The way his blazer fits just right on his biceps, his light brown hair and piercing gaze that just speaks "brooding loner", if you weren't at work you'd have fallen to your knees the second he made eye contact with you. You try to reel in your awe as he walks up to you, dusting off your clothes to make you look put together. "So you're my new babysitter? Y/n, right? I'm Leon Kennedy." Just the sound of his voice is enough to give you goosebumps, but your name from his lips is like a drug that gets you hooked instantly. And just like that, something flips in your brain, you are so not gonna be professional, how can you? How can anyone handle themselves around this man? You shake his hand as he extends it for you, and the feel of his rough hand from hard work sends so many dirty thoughts through your mind, like how good it would feel with his fingers on your neck, or his palm pressed against your tit, or how thick his fingers would feel inside you- chill out, play it cool.
"It's great to finally meet you, Mr. Kennedy, everyone has told me a lot about you.." You make sure to say it in a sultry tone to make it obvious how much you think he's attractive, and he sure as hell catches it. "Good things, I hope." He chuckles, giving you a sly smirk. Oh he knows. Fuck. "Oh don't worry, it's been all good things, promise. Though, I have heard that you made Hunnigan’s job a lot harder." You tease, looking him up and down and matching his sly smirk. Two can play that game. "Sure, but I get the job done, no?" The way he says it is so damn sexy you're sure he's doing what you're doing. "I'm sure you get a lot of things done with that attitude, Mr. Kennedy." You act like you're being sarcastic as you cross your arms under your chest, but you know how he could make you cum with the brush of his arm. "Only one way to find out, right?" That one makes your eyebrows raise, your smile widening as you blush slightly. "Is that an invitation?" You drop your voice slightly, leaning against the wall. The curve of your body sends a shockwave of arousal through him, and his eyes narrow on your figure. "If that's what you think I meant then by all means." He's so damn smug and it just makes you wanna sit on his face to shut him up.
"Is there anything you wanna ask me? About myself, the job?" You try to sound professional and not desperate, but you feel like it's helpless when you're looking up at him and he's so obviously checking you out, his eyes taking note of every curve on your body. Like he’s studying it for later. "I think I have a pretty good idea from Hunnigan and the President, is there anything you wanna ask me?" His question makes your eyes light up, but you don't wanna immediately ask him on a date. Classy, that's who you are to your core. "I can ask you anything I want?" "Anything." You smile smugly, lowering your hand to take his, clearly inspecting his ring finger as you bring it closer to you. "Do you have a girl? I don't see a ring on your finger." You say it in an innocent yet flirty tone that he so obviously gets turned on from, considering how he chuckles lightly as he shakes his head before taking his hand away. "So observant. I guess that comes with the job, huh? No, I'm single." Always such a tease, I guess neither of you can help that though. "Really? I have a hard time believing that." You have a faux surprised look on your face, all in the name of trying to get him to blush. You're getting close, you can feel it. "Is it? I'm an old man, what can I say." That one gets you shifting your thighs, biting your lip as you think of just how much older. What kind of experience comes with that age? "Old man, hmm? You ever thought of being with someone younger?" You step a little closer, just barely invading his personal space. "Haven't met anybody that can keep up." He says it so nonchalant, but fuck if it doesn't light a fire that spreads throughout your body. God, it's so hard not to say you could totally keep up, doesn't matter how long he'd want it. "Keep up, hmm? What, does this job give you a lot of stamina or something?" Your question makes him smile at you confidently, and it gets you oh so excited. "Well, I meant that most women don't like that I'm constantly busy, but if you wanna be dirty minded about it, be my guest." He totally stumps you, and it just makes you giggle and rest your hand on his arm, letting out a lil “my bad” before letting it slip away. You're slick, cause you honestly just touched his arm to feel how firm it was, and oh my god. Like diamonds, kind of hard. You can't imagine how fucking good it’d feel wrapped around your neck- there you go again. Snap out of it.
“You're pretty funny, you know that? I’m gonna have fun talking to you. For work, of course.” He let out a soft laugh at your flattery, loving how you tried to soften the thirstiness of your words with a joke. It's cute, you're really trying to say he's not hot. “Trust me, Hunnigan got very tired of my jokes.” You scoff, cause honestly, who could get tired of this guy? “Sorry, but she doesn't know what she's talking about, clearly you're an A class comedian.” You make it sound a little sarcastic, but he doesn't seem offended in the slightest. He loves a challenge. “Yeah? Aren't you a sweetheart? You love to flatter.” Your eyes widen a bit, resisting the urge to squeal and fan your hot face like a rabid fangirl, simply looking away to try and take a moment away from his hungry gaze. “I mean, it's hard not to, Mr. Kennedy..” You sheepishly give him that win, you’ll take it since he called you sweetheart, and in that teasing, cocky fucking tone of all things. If Cupid was real, you’d probably have a million arrows in your back right now. He parts his lips to reply, but gets cut off by his phone ringing, taking it out of his pocket to see the President calling. “Shit, I gotta take this.” He sighs, clearly wanting to keep talking to you instead. “It’s just Leon by the way, no need for formalities.” You get a smug smile again before he starts to walk back to the door of your office, walking with him to let him leave so you could wave him goodbye. “I’ll see you around, okay?” You nod, your smirk not leaving as he waits for you to say goodbye. “I’ll see you around, Mr. Kennedy~” You and your teasing, it's gonna throw him into cardiac arrest. He shares your smugness before begrudgingly answering his phone, looking back to see you waving bye at him with your dainty little hand. Like you knew he didn't wanna end the conversation.
He couldn't stop thinking about you all damn day after your little exchange, could barely focus on his briefing or look anyone in the eye. Even when he got home, knowing he had to wake up supremely early for work, he couldn't get you off his mind. You weren’t like every corporate drone the D.S.O hires, nothing like Hunnigan either. Bless the woman, but he would finally have someone to laugh at his shitty dad jokes. No wonder you got the job. You were drop dead gorgeous to him, not daring to come close to any Victoria Secret model. The way you giggle when you're nervous, how you sneak touches or how forward you are. God, it took every fiber in his body to not grab you and fuck you in a storage closet. Or against the wall? He just towers over you, he could fold you like a lawn chair and you’d take every inch. Fuck, how did his cock get in his hand? Who cares, honestly. He’s too busy spitting in his hand, too worked up to get anything better to help him jerk off. He groans, thinking of how good your soft, delicate fingers you used to wave at him would feel wrapped around his dick, whispering in his ear in that sexy voice you have. He feels chills down his spine when he remembers the way you teased him, how you didn't even say his name. Cause you didn't wanna give it to him yet, that satisfaction. Jesus, you're gonna kill him before any bioweapon does if you keep that shit up. His hand gets faster as his thoughts keep speeding forward, thinking about how good you’d sound saying his name. Not Mr. Kennedy, Leon. He has to hear it, has to hear you scream it when you cum on his cock. He needs to know how pretty you’d look when you cum, clinging to his arms, maybe even digging your nails into his back as your legs lock around his waist. So fucking hot as you beg to have him fill you up. He cums in his hand, spilling out of his palm and down his happy trail. He lets out a heavy sigh, catching his breath as he comes down from his high. He's not even close to feeling satisfied, even as he gets up to go shower again. He needs you, and he knows you feel the same. Hard part is gonna be getting you, without all the stress of what your coworkers would say.
You honestly don't stray too far from how he felt that night either. The second you closed the door to your office, you sat down and processed everything. It was a lot, seeing a man that fucking fine and not being able to drop to your knees and take his cock in your mouth. You were close to sprinting to a bathroom and taking care of the issue, maybe even slipping a hand between your legs and just testing the waters. Literally. He made you so wet, and you could feel it your entire shift, even as you walked to your car. You could only imagine how wet you’d get if he actually did anything. If he talked dirty? Him telling you to cum would make you do it on the spot, no question. Fuck, if he touched you? You’d be screaming like a damn pornstar, waking up the whole building when he slides his cock inside you. It's all you can think about when you get home, not caring to take a shower when you do. You just plop down on your bed and practically tear your clothes off, desperate for relief. Maybe that’ll save your career, fucking yourself thinking about him. So you do, pulling your nightstand drawer open the second you’re naked, taking out ol’ reliable. You can't count on your hands how many times this vibrator was there for you, it was way more reliable than your parents or therapist. Or you could be addicted to cumming, that too. But who wouldn't be? It's not your concern, especially if it's because of Leon. You wanna hear him say the most degrading, defiling, depraved shit in the world but still praise you for it, praise you for putting out so easily cause you're such a good girl. If fucking him with no hesitation makes you a slut, then you wear that badge proudly. That title feels even better when you start moaning his name, your toy hitting that sweet spot which makes you move your hand faster, needing to cum so damn bad. It feels so dirty in the best way possible, thinking of how firm his thighs would feel under your hands as you grip them tighter every time he shoves his cock further down your throat. You can’t imagine how fucking hot it’d be to hear him order you to grind your wet cunt on his boot, holding your hair so hard that you can’t help but push your nose against his pelvis, making your clit nudge against his boot again. Hearing that cocky son of a bitch tell you to cum would be like the devil coaxing you to join him down in hell, too sinful to imagine without having the real thing. It doesn't stop you from cumming on your toy, whining as your legs shake, turning it off as you heave out breaths. You’re fine if you think about him every night, it's good material for your shower thoughts. You’re more excited for his upcoming mission, making you all giddy as you get ready for bed. You're gonna be insufferable. Lucky Leon~
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ragingbookdragon · 4 months
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It all happens so fast. She returns from the trip she’s been on for the last few days only to be arrested and put in federal custody for exposing secrets on NEST. She’s tough, seen war zones, fought extra-terrestrial alien robots, and stood before evil unafraid, but this scares her to tears. Men she works with day in and day out, in her face, yelling at her to come clean about selling secrets and all she can do is plead innocent.
But then they start asking her where she was, and she snaps her mouth shut on the answers. They dig into her, asking her if she was meeting with a contact, who it was, where she was. She keeps silent and it’s only until they decide to charge her with treason that she offers a simple answer.
“I was with someone, but it wasn’t for any type of secret meeting or sharing of intelligence.”
They press her over and over and over and it ends with her in a dark room, alone, cuffed to a table. It’s technically false imprisonment and cruel punishment, but she knows she doesn’t have much of a choice given the fact of how difficult a position she’s in.
She thinks of him. No doubt the rumors have already spread around the facility. She wonders if he has heard anything, if he has already said anything. She knows she can’t say anything, knows she can’t tell the entire truth—they won’t understand. How could they? They’re two completely different species.
Her spirits begin to dampen when a crash echoes outside and the roof of the darkened room is ripped from the walls. She covers her head the best she can, fear gripping her as light pours into the room and she squints as his face becomes clear to her.
“Optimus?” she breathes, and he reaches down, snapping the cuffs on her wrist like they were toothpicks before he picks her up and pulls her out, setting her down on the ground.
Guns are pointed their way, and she can’t help but hide slightly around the leg that is suddenly in front of her, guarding her. And then all of the Autobots are squaring off against the human soldiers, protecting her. Lennox somehow ends up in the middle of a multitude of aliens and humans, yelling at both sides to lower their weapons.
“Alright! Everyone put your guns down!”
There’s a breath and then the humans lower theirs followed by the Autobots.
Lennox looks at her. “You know I trust you, I know you wouldn’t do what they’re saying, but if you have a true, factual alibi, you have got to tell them. Now.”
She purses her lips, thinks for a moment, then looks up at Optimus; he gives her his own calming look and a nod. “She and I were both recently out. We were together.” He looks down again, kneeling enough that he can take her hand in his larger one. “We are navigating a difficult and new relationship between two different species.”
“Optimus,” she whispers. “I—you don’t have to tell them this."
His pointer gently brushes her temple. “If telling them our truth means it protects you, then I shall.” Optimus looks at the higher-ups she answers to. “If you mean to punish someone, then it will be me. But know this, she has not betrayed your trust and remains a trusted agent.”
It’s quite a commotion and the night ends with her job and security reinstated and a new manhunt for the double agent; she sits outside in the field, far enough from the facility that she doesn’t have to worry about being questioned anymore. The crunch of the ground comes behind her and she doesn’t look as Optimus sits down beside her on the grass.
“I am sorry that this is how things have come to light,” he murmurs, staring up at the sky. “It is not how I would have wished it.”
She sighs, not tired of him but of the entire thing. “It’s not your fault, Optimus. I think I should’ve told Lennox that I was out before we left. If nothing else, just to let him know that I wasn’t doing anything malicious.” She looks at him. “I’m sorry too.”
“It’s not your fault, my spark,” he says and shifts a leg until she is between his, his hands are wrapped around her, thumb brushing her thigh. “I should’ve done more to protect you.”
“Have they said anything since this afternoon?”
“I would not be surprised, but I was once taught to listen to all but only take few as truth.”
She leans back against him. “Thank you, Optimus.”
“Always, my spark.”
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Note
i absolutely fell in LOVE with your price fic holy shit. your writing is spectacular. then i read your request info and saw that you love keegan as well and my soul left my body.
So this is me requesting a keegan x reader fic bc i love this underrated man SO much!! maybe some enemies to lovers where one of them gets injured in the field and, thinking they're dying, a teary desperate confession ensues? lol im not good with prompts i just wanna see my man 🤧 thanks in advance i love ur work
(Don't) Go to War
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Pairing: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader
Synopsis: Some days it became impossible not to lose your tempers with each other. Being enemies was easier than admitting you cared.
Word Count: 12.3k
Warnings: Angst, enemies to lovers, blood & gore, vulgar language, fluff & comfort eventually, suggestive (just a tiny bit)
A/N: Just a few more requests to get done, and then my inbox should be open again. I'm thinking I might do an independent Gaz fic too...but idk yet. Enjoy, Love!
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
Some days it became impossible not to yell at him.
“I had the shot, Keegan!” Your voice carries over the hull of C-23 Sherpa, and you didn’t bother to stay strapped into your seat as the aircraft levels out around you. Thrusting your body up, your feet slam to the floor as you stalk over to the silent man who watches you with burning blue eyes, “If you hadn’t gotten in the way the target would be six feet under by now!” 
Your face was twisted with rage, and a need for justice laced your brain like an inextinguishable blaze of fire. 
Keegan and you had a violent streak of not getting along - to the point where Elias was close to separating the two of you permanently. It wasn’t entirely your fault, the man just got on your nerves when he acted like he could boss you around. No Man’s Land was your playground; you knew the trails, where to take shelter when needed, and what towns and backroads to avoid because of Federation occupation. You spent most of your time beyond the walls of Fort Santa Monica just like Keegan and the other Ghosts did – he had no right to lecture you out here. 
He had no right to fuck up the mission.
“Kid,” The man in question warns, his form tense from where it leans against the wall. Around the two of you, the aircraft shakes from turbulence. Keegan’s eyes narrowed to slits, and behind the cloth over his face you see his lips thin dangerously, “I’d be careful what you say next.” 
“Oh, shut the hell up!” You growl. The dirt and blood sticking to your skin makes you want to scratch at yourself with blunt nails; rip away the grime. Stomping up to Keegan you stand directly in front of him, a sneer heavy on your lips. Your body is shaking with adrenaline, “You have no right to tell me that. I worked my ass off getting that intel on Vidal Teo for months just for you to mess up my shot in no less than three seconds. What the fuck?!” 
Keegan’s dead eyes glare from behind the stain of his black eye paint, the custom balaclava shifting as his hidden face moves. Over his arms, his fingers tense and tighten; a pulsing atmosphere begins to perforate the hull. The already strained rope was snapping.
Vidal Teo was a high-ranking commander for the Federation soldiers stationed in a large portion of No Man’s Land. He was instrumental in leading the frontal assault on the Fort – which had been getting steadily worse as the years went on. Vidal was a man marked for death, and your bullet had his name carved into the silver grooves. 
He was yours. 
“I don’t like your tone, Princess,” Keegan hisses down at you, but his intimidation tactics don’t work. He was large, sure, with a gargantuan build that made your shoulders square, but the anger in your blood pumped with vengeance, “I’m in command of the mission, don’t go mixing it around. You listen to me.”
“Not when Teo was right fucking in front of me,” Your head whips to the side, hands clenched as you point a single finger into the man’s chest. The two of you were so close you could feel his gear brush against yours when he breathed. Inside your form, your pulse sings, “If you hadn't fired that shot all of this would have been finished. Now,” You lower your voice as his enraged eyes bore into you, “He’s off in the damn wind. We’ll never get an opportunity like that again.” 
“Back up.” Keegan stands straighter, arms falling to his sides, and at that moment a sliver of hesitance makes its way into your heart as his shadow looms over you, “Now. Before you do something you’ll regret.”
Clenching your jaw, your finger falls. No matter how pissed off you were at the Ghost, one thing he said was right. Keegan was in control of this mission – technically he was your superior at the moment. You should listen to him. 
Listen? Your eyes flash, Like he listened to me? I told him to not fire while I lined my scope up…Why the hell did he do that?
“The sooner you’re out of my life,” Growling, you stare deep into Keegan’s eyes and only slightly shiver at the intensity. You could feel his breath coming out in strained puffs, wafting over your face, “The better. This is on you…All of my goddamn work down the drain…” 
Jerking back as you grumble the last sentence under your breath, you storm past the Ghost’s stone-still figure and enter the cockpit, feeling his locked gaze on you the entire time. You slam the door shut, only serving to make the pilots snap their attention to you, mouths slack and optics wide.
“What?” You growl, glaring and practically releasing steam out of your ears. Damn that man and his stupidly handsome face…What?
The pilots quickly stutter back to their controls, backs straight, and heads forward. 
Blinking, you scrunch your lips; your sense coming back to you as your shoulders deflate. 
“Fuck,” Grumbling, you bring your hands up and place them on top of your head, lacing the fingers together as your elbows stick out. You glance remorsefully at the two stiff profiles, “Sorry, boys. Long day.” 
Elias was going to lecture you again. 
He always did when you and Keegan got into fights – they were becoming more and more recent in the past few months. From common disagreements about misplaced knives or weapons to full-blown yelling matches over accidents on missions, the recurring bouts of thrown words never seemed to end. 
You were so incredibly sick of it. 
Why were you always fighting with him? Why did every action strike you in the heart like a blade? You were always tense around Keegan, sending sharp glances at him every time he was in the vicinity and sharper words a second later. He did the same in return, it wasn’t like this was one-sided. The man was determined to push every button in the book, and damn it if you didn’t do that as well. 
Keegan was a man on a high horse; arrogant, hard-headed, rude, and held authority like a stick you could beat someone over the head with. He demanded utter perfection. 
Sighing violently, you lean back against the door and shove your palms into your eye sockets; head tilting back to rest on the cool metal and soothe the growing headache.
The problem was, most of the time the man was right when he told you something – whether work-related or not. 
“Tango to the left – weapons hot.”
“Contact Scarecrow, Exfil in five. We have a group just above the pharmacy building.”
“West, Kid. Snipers scope, take ‘em down.”
No Man’s Land was supposed to be your playground and all of a sudden some other kid comes along; starts throwing rocks at the equipment with a damn painted balaclava over his face. You didn’t want someone telling you how to do your job. 
Frowning, your teeth nash in annoyance. 
This flight back to Santa Monica couldn't end soon enough, and now you had months of Recon intel sitting in your office to throw into the trash.
You grabbed at the pinned-up files with paper-cut fingertips, looking over the contents before frowning. Tossing them to the side, your ears twitch at the flopping sound of them flying into the garbage bin at your feet. 
The bulletin board was bare of all the red yarn, maps, and intel that you had once hung up with pride. Vidal Teo was gone, and just so the board was once more empty. It was hard not to feel cheated, angry, but maybe a part of you felt emptiness as well. 
All of that work… just for one shot to mess it up. And the bullet wasn’t even from your own gun. 
“I swear,” You whisper, itching at your nose, “If I ever get up on a team with him again…” 
Trailing off, your legs shift and carry you to your desk where you throw yourself down into the chair. Thoughts of Keegan made your brain race, mind going to try and understand why. Even if you didn’t like the man, at least on the surface, you still respected him. 
So, why? None of it made sense. Why fire off into the city at an unidentified target and send Teo rushing for cover? Why not explain to you what had happened when you were back on the plane? If he had made a mistake and admitted that, you would have accepted it… eventually, of course, but you still would have accepted it regardless. You would have had to.
Licking your lips, you tap your knuckles onto the metal of your desk, playing a long-forgotten tune. You never heard the door open.
“Heard the Op didn’t go as planned, but at least the two of you didn’t kill each other. I’d have a helluva a lot of paperwork to do if you put a bullet in his ass,” Sitting up straighter your head snaps to the open doorway, seeing the stocky stature of Thomas Merrick with his arms crossed over his chest, “Still, though, heard ya’ nearly made those pilots piss their pants when you yelled at ‘em.”
“Merrick,” You groan out, tipping your head past the chair’s backing, your neck digging into the wood, “You’re acting like I try to be a bitch.” 
“Are you not,” When you glare at him, the man’s dark eyebrow raises slightly, “Because you’re failing at it – often. Elias’s at the end of his rope with you two.”
Grumbling, your nose scrunches, lips pulling back in a small snarl. 
“It’s not my fault. Keegan hates me just the same.” 
“That any excuse to yell at a superior?” Merrick sighs, shaking his bald head and walking forward, “Thought I trained you better than that?” 
Your eyes flicker to his own, but seeing the blatant disappointment in them, you find it better to look at the empty bulletin board. Swallowing stiffly, your feet shuffle on the floor. 
“Look at all my work, Thomas,” Shoving yourself to your feet, you walk to the small garbage bin and pick it up; holding it aloft, you watch the Ghost’s Field Officer's lips thin. There was a mass amount of wasted paper, pictures, and yarn that caught his eye. You go and slam it onto your desk, hearing the clatter as the pencil holder falls to its side, “Wasted. Because of one man’s actions – how many people are going to die now because I couldn’t make the shot? Ten, twenty, thirty…?” 
“Kid–” Merrick begins, but you cut him off – still angry at Keegan and trying to strangle down the guilt of pushing it onto Thomas.
“If you don’t mind, Merrick, I have a shit-ton of reports to sign and no time to do them,” Once more flopping back into your chair, you rub your hands over your face and feel the skin pull. If you were anyone other than yourself, you would be getting a reprimand for interrupting a superior like that but Merrick was something of a friend to you. 
Closing your eyes, you let the darkness behind your lids flood you as you take a deep breath. 
The Ghost leaves after a moment without noise or a sound of encouragement, but that was just how he was. You feel his dark eyes on you, lingering, before he closes the door behind him and stalks away. 
Finally left alone in silence, you let your thoughts run to try and answer the age-old question that ravaged your mind.
“What happened to make us like this?” You whisper, hands falling to your lap as you stare off into the distance with blank eyes. 
You had never given it much thought – sometimes people just didn’t like each other. Ingrained enemies written into the annals of time and cursed to forever be at each other's throats like rabid animals. But then you realized that this wasn’t high school and you were an adult living in a fucked up world full of death and war. Coworkers no longer had the privilege to talk shit about the other behind their backs or not communicate their problems; being out in No Man’s Land forced people to compromise and work together like a well-oiled machine. 
And well-oiled was not the way to describe yours and Keegan's relationship…more like a run-down and rusty car that screams every time you turn the key; practically begging someone to put it out of its misery. 
Blinking, you realize, perhaps for the first time, how much of a problem this predicament with Keegan really was. 
This could kill us both.
All of this began, you knew, a long time back, and, as it usually did, it had started out beyond the Fort before bleeding back into the ramshackle place you called home. The both of you were enemies far longer than you had been friends.
Your body was hot, sweat dripping down your temple and slipping the expanse of your chin, but still, you stood outside Elias Walker’s door with a tense jaw; fingers itching to rip into Keegan’s flesh. They were speaking inside, their voices hushed as your boots pooled mud and dirt onto the floor like a brand. 
“She…went over the ridge?” Elias asks, voice deep, “And she’s alive?”
“Hm,” Keegan makes a savage noise in the back of his throat, and you have to hide your panting breaths to hear it. The damn bastard was always so silent any sound would perk your ears, even if they were ringing with reverberations of spent bullets.
“Then I don’t exactly see what the problem is, Keegan.”
A pause.
“...She’s impulsive. Combative. Doesn’t listen,” There was an inhaled breath, and you feel your face burn at the profound gravel-toned words, lungs making your chest tighten as they zip closed as a bag would. But those next comments make you growl in the back of your throat, rage like fire in your heart, “I don’t want her. Kid’ll get the people she’s placed with killed if she’s allowed to do that again!”
A sigh through the shocked silence. 
“Then what do you suggest I do? She’s a valuable asset, I can’t just ground her – the Recon work she does is vital to finding Federation strongholds.”
“I don’t care what you do with her, Elias. Just keep her far away from me and the boys. Kid’s not my problem. Never want her to be again.”
Whatever harsh words are uttered next are lost to you, because your legs are already carrying you down the corridor with brimming tears stuck in the corners of your eyes. 
It was more the way he said it than the contents of the clipped sentences. Like you were less than him, pathetic, and unworthy. Nothing more than a rookie holding a gun and parading off into the wilderness to have a good time. That was what wrecked you.
The next time you saw Keegan it was only narrowed glances and clenched fists; terse words. When you snapped at him for the first time, you swear his eyes slightly widened, cold blue one second then boiling bright the next.
You liked that look on him – shocked into a different type of silence. A type of anger you could meet head-on.
Fighting with Keegan soon became too addicting to ignore, a constant activity that never changed like the destroyed world always did. A failsafe at the end of the day. 
 The anger had never dimmed, infecting you like a poisoned worm stuck in your veins and weaseling its way to your heart. It had only grown the longer you let it sit, and at the end of the day, you festered over the image of the Ghost’s face with his eyes digging into your skin. You stayed awake at night mulling over the arguments, taking the insults and words like bullet wounds to your heart with barely restrained tears; feeling guilty because you threw some back as well. 
But what hurt you the most was that, before the hushed meeting in Elias’s office, you had looked up to him. To Keegan. Perhaps you had even enjoyed his quiet company at one point when the loneliness of No Man’s Land got to you. The terrain was incredibly quiet in between the violent hails of gunfire and, on occasion, it would make paranoia infect your bones like a cancer; producing shaking limbs and tense fingers. When Keegan was with you…you hated to admit this, but he made the silence better. More survivable compared to when you were alone doing Recon with only a gun and a combat knife as deadly companions. 
Your narrowed lids flicker to the trash bin on the desk. 
There was still a small pinch of anger – resentment for the waste and for words spoken in haste – but your mind pulsed to find an explanation. A reason. 
There must be a reason that Keegan would fire off a shot into the city prematurely…obviously it was to hit a target, but why? And why hadn’t he told you the reason? 
I’m gonna rip my head apart if I keep thinking this over, You warn yourself, huffing under your breath. 
You had reports to write up – tell of your failure to kill Vidal Teo and how many lives that will ultimately cost in the future. While you were stuck with a pen in your hand, scribbling away even as the sun had set outside, you had no idea of the stare-down going on in Elias’s office one floor up.
Elias’s eyes are sharp, a wave of dark anger deep in the iris as he stands with his arms crossed behind his desk, “Why’d you fire?”
Keegan's feet are shoulder length apart and his arms are clenched behind his back, spine straight; a deep tension lives in the thick air, bearing down weight on the men. The Ghost was still in his gear, the balaclava and black face paint in all its glory situated over his head. That was his best form of armor, allowing him to hide the deep sneer over his cruelly scared lips. 
“Tango. Off in the next building,” Keegan’s voice was low, harsh, and cut to a point. He didn’t want to be there – there were many more important things to be done than getting a lecture like a five-year-old. 
His sniper rifle needed cleaning, rookies needed to be disciplined, and the treadmills were calling his name. He had to work off all the bullshit in his head.
“The Girl had the shot. Vidal Teo needed to die, Russ – she knew that well enough. I want an explanation as to why a high-priority target is still up and walking.” 
The silent beast of a man keeps his body still, even if his head is pounding. Hot adrenaline was still in his veins from how you were yelling at him in the Sherpa, the memory of your rage-twisted face burning into the back of his eyes. He had never seen you that angry before; shaking with the need to release your displeasure onto him. It had slightly taken him aback. 
Fighting with you was predictable. You’d both throw insults, get into each other's faces and cruelly break down each other's psyche piece by piece – the man knew what to say and where the unspoken line was just as you did. Fighting was easier than admitting there was something deeper going on, something that you two were hesitant to even speak of. 
But, hell, you had never gotten that upset at him previously. And, problem was, even if he wanted to deny it, Keegan knew he fucked up. Bad. 
There wasn’t a way in hell that he was going to tell you that, though. He wasn’t going to tell you that his finger had moved before his mind could, pulling down on the hair-trigger of his prized rifle like a fucking novice. Even now self-resentment was worming into him.
He had never felt that to this degree before. He didn’t like it – couldn’t afford to acknowledge it.
What gave you the right to provoke those emotions from him? Maybe I need to ask to have her transferred. Brat’s messin’ with my head.
“Miscalculation. Won’t happen again.” His feet shuffle, boots shifting silently over the floor like that of his title. Miscalculation – he doesn’t make those. Never had after ODIN hit the US. There wasn’t any room for them. 
Keegan was a master of taking lives with a swift movement and a pull of a trigger; no one had ever known him to be reckless. 
They had you for that.
Elias narrowed his eyes, head tilting, as a tightness is seen rippling through his jaw, “You’re going to have to lie better than that, Son.”
Keegan stilled, dead eyes boring into the other man’s. The sharp blue deepens, darkens. His shoulders set themselves, but the ingrained looseness is still there if someone looks close enough and spies it. Instinct is hard to fight. 
“Elias?” He asks from behind the fabric of his face covering but utters no more. 
Keegan was a man of few words – very few. Actions served him better, but in this room, there was no point to them. Walker was his superior; his Captain, but more so the closest thing to a brother Keegan would ever have. There wasn’t a choice in this, even if the men had gone through hell together as Ghosts. 
“Don’t play me for a fool, Keegan,” The graying man mutters out, shaking his head and going to rest his hands on the top of his desk, “I’ve known you a long time. You don’t fuck up something like this. Never have. So don’t insult me with that half-assed answer.” 
Elias pauses, sighing when Keegan just stares at him with blank, black-laced, hard eyes. The man was a damn empty slate, never moving, never giving away anything to betray his emotions.  
“I want a full report on my desk in a week. I’m sure the Kid’ll have hers done in a day, but I want you to explain yourself. In detail. You hear?”
“Copy.” 
“Dismissed.”
Keegan turns and leaves without another word, just a burning in his gut and a righteous sense of surety in his bloodstream. Your face slashes over his vision as he exits the room, he closes the door behind him and thumps down the halls. People move out of his way quickly, sending glances with pupils so tiny they practically disappear altogether; Keegan knew he was intimidating, especially with all his gear and smelling like gunpowder and blood. Didn’t bother him much. 
It seemed like it didn’t bother you either, judging by how you were in his face screaming all the time. 
Damn brat, Keegan thinks, itching at his nose bridge and sending stiff glances at the rows and rows of closed doors and windows, She doesn’t know anything.
Before long his feet had carried him down corners and hallways as his head pounded, and it wasn’t a surprise that when he shook himself out of his trance the entire make-up of the floors and walls had changed. 
Wait…where was he? 
His pace slows to a stop, and his eyebrows furrow in confusion. Where had he ended up while his mind was running at the thought of you? This had never happened before – the Ghost’s head was all out of sorts if he was talking walks around the Fort without a destination. Every action of his had a purpose, why was that now becoming anything less than fact? 
Annoyance plagued him.
Sliding his eyes around, a certain office window catches his viper-like attention. It was the only one with a light still on, warm rays shining out into the hallway, and the shuffling of paper and manila folders flowing to his ears. The door was only minutely ajar, a sliver, and nothing more. About to turn around and leave the area, Keegan halts at the sound of a familiar voice grumbling. His heart jerks.
Blue eyes narrow, and that annoyance at himself grows to find an external outlet.
The hell is this Kid doin’ up so late? Doesn’t she know when lights out is? Fuck, looks like she can’t follow simple guidelines either.
With shuffling feet, he takes a step forward and has every intention to bust down the door and force you to the barracks; lecturing you on the importance of rest when he suddenly realizes something.
Why does he care if you get a good night's sleep? 
Growling under his breath, he happens to get a glimpse of a moving shadow through the window that gives him pause with one gloved hand on the woodgrain of the door. If possible, he feels his body completely stop at the scene; his eyes flickering into a widened look. 
And what was that tightening in his chest?
You were staring at the hung-up bulletin board, having dragged your desk chair over and situated it right in front of the bare rectangle that once held an innumerable amount of papers and information. 
Keegan had seen it himself right before the mission had started. Your eyes lit up when you could tell him everything you knew about the target from his schedule to what he ate in the mornings.
Eggs with a protein bar. Two cups of milk.
You had gathered all of that info yourself – countless trips into Federation-occupied territory that left you coming back with bruises and deep lacerations. Keegan knew; he had watched you limping back through the gate with a shielded look in his eyes. But now the board was blank and useless, holding nothing but your knowledge that it was once filled with your labors. 
The Ghost’s hand on the door loosens, and he takes a slow inhalation of breath as your tired eyes get glossy. When had you gotten those bags under your eyes? Keegan’s lips pull thin behind his balaclava. Had…had you always looked that tired? 
Had you both really been fighting so much that he had stopped noticing the most basic parts of you that he had watched so closely before?
“I had it…” Keegan’s shoulders tense when he hears you speak, but he doesn’t move. A needle of guilt moved to dig deeper. Your hopeless sigh leaves him gritting his teeth, “Fuck.” 
Digging your palms into your eyes, he watches you shake, limbs tense and hunched over nearly into a ball. He has the sudden urge to push the door open, not to scold you but to simply stand by your side. Tell you the truth. 
Keegan’s eyebrows pull together, gaze flicking away from you so his brain can focus. But it was like a magnet was stuck behind his optics because it wasn’t long before his eyes flowed back to the small figure. 
He stays there for a good while, watching, with a weighted chest and pounding heart. Keegan couldn’t really say what he was thinking about, but all of it certainly involved you. So why couldn’t he open the door?
When your head jerks back up, his eyes widen, body swiftly moving back. 
By the time you look out the office window, his shadow is already disappearing down the hallway. 
You nearly lose your cool when Elias tells you Keegan was accompanying you out into No Man’s Land once more. The bags under your eyes burned – weeks had passed since the fight, and you had gotten little sleep since then. 
“Teo was sighted by one of the drones near an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of San Francisco. I want you and Keegan on the trail, and, hopefully,” Elias mutters as Merrick and Ajax listen in the background. Your apparent partner stands behind you, leaning back on the wall with his arms crossed, “We can put this to rest.”
Standing rail-straight, your face is twisted but you keep yourself under control. Even being in the same room with Keegan made you want to lash out. At your sides, your hands slowly clench into tight fists, and behind you, a sharp gaze digs its claws into your skull.
He’s watching you. Studying like he always does when he thinks you don’t notice. 
“Sir,” You answer the older Ghosts blankly, lips stiff, “If you think that’s best.” 
“I do,” Merrick raises a brow behind Elias, and you pretend not to notice as Ajax’s shoulders shake, “That going to be a problem?”
Ironically, Keegan and you both answer at the same time, a strangling silence before a snarled, “No, Sir.” 
The pair of you shipped out in thirty minutes, but neither of you bothered to look at the other as you gathered supplies in the armory; grabbing magazine after magazine and strapping knives to thighs, arms padded with thick clothes and heavy black combat vests. Keegan was applying his face paint despite the dark color already stained into his eye sockets. You doubted it could come off anymore – the skin was probably so damaged by the chemicals it was pointless to try. Like some brutal birthmark. He slipped the balaclava over soon after.
The fabric covered the dark hair and strong jaw, slightly marred with stubble – long scars that grew harsher when his skin twisted; the angled lips below a sharp nose that had captured your attention the first time you had seen them. Keegan was undoubtedly handsome, carved from stone and silver – the remnants of that artistry only now glimpsed in his eyes as a cold reminder. It was funny, you thought, that someone so beautiful could be such an ass. You watched him, terse-like, and grabbed a revolver hanging from the rack, shoving it into your thigh holster. 
He was acting off. 
Keegan was more silent than he usually was; at this point, he would at least make a quick quip about your annoying habit of packing extra ration bars in your front pouch. 
‘Gonna weigh you down, Kid, if you stuff one more of those damn things into your vest.’
But the more you sneaked glances, the more your feet started to shuffle in unease. The Ghost wouldn’t even look at you. 
“You sick or something?” Your voice carries, echoing off the walls as you tighten the vest strap on your side. You had never bothered to be subtle when talking to the man – he appreciated bluntness, and that was one thing you could get behind. 
“No,” Keegan slips past, suddenly colder than ever before, and disappears without another word. 
Watching his back shift as he strides off, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and perhaps a bit of shock. 
What the hell was that? You ask yourself, hands falling to your sides where they twitch. Keegan was damn confusing, but he had never been outright numb like that to you besides when you both first met. Your resentment flares in your breast, but with a shake of your head, you force it down. That wouldn’t help anyone, and you still wanted answers. 
If this was how Keegan wanted to be then fine, you’d just have to ask Elias for his report when you got back and figure out for yourself why he had ruined the previous mission. 
You grabbed a canteen of water and shuffled out the door, flicking off the light with a heavy finger and followed after the Ghost’s footsteps; dreading the Op but feeling your pulse beat at the thought of nabbing Teo once and for all. 
This was ending. Today. 
The aircraft landed just far enough away to be unseen by Federation soldiers and on the line of being annoyingly distant from the target. The hike would be through mountainous terrain – the land ravaged by the remnants of ODIN’s destruction and just beginning to heal. On top of steep cliffs, and sharp rocks, there would also be rampaging streams and thick foliage. Speaking from experience, you knew it was going to be a sweat-inducing mission…and that was before you got to the main point of it all. 
Both of you disappear into the treeline after the pilot tells you the future Evac Point, hoofing it at a jog into the shadows and blending in like animals. Under your feet, the leaves crush, telling stories of where you placed your weight as the packs over your body jump with every jerk forward. Keegan takes the lead, silently expecting you to follow as your eyes stare into his back. 
He still hadn’t talked to you. It made your skin crawl.
Watching his gait, you frown and clench your jaw. Why did it bother you so much? Wasn’t this what you wanted all along…for him to leave you alone? 
Sighing, you hop over a downed log, seeing Keegan quickly send a look behind him at your form before snapping his head forward. 
“There’s an old structure west of the Warehouse – a hunting lodge still standing from before ODIN was fired, I found it on one of my other Ops,” You call, moving faster to run side-by-side with the man. Dodging a tree, your tongue runs over your lips, “We should set up there – we’d have a clear shot.”
For a moment there was only the sound of shoved foliage, steady breaths, and clinking gear before Keegan replies. 
“Affirm.” 
He pulls ahead, and you’re left widely watching his shoulders, seeing the muscles under his attire ripple as they propel him faster away. Your eyelids narrow, a thin sneer flickering over your lips.
Keep your cool, You follow after, careful where you place your feet as the ground begins to ascend, If I get him in a good mood, maybe he’ll answer my questions later. 
It was easier said than done, of course, and although your efforts were valiant, none of your plans to get him to speak to you landed. The hike ended with panted breaths and a setting sun, mist seeping like snakes over the rocks under your feet; the world was quiet, and try as you might you found a deep sense of loneliness in that. The pair of you were on top of a ridge, surrounded by deep green and gray. No birds sang, and no animals trampled the land – it was just the harsh wind and the creak of stretching metal from far ahead. The occasional smell of dirt that left your nose full of particles and led to coughing fits.
Perhaps Keegan had the right idea for a face covering, even if it was never intended for the reason of keeping the elements out.
The Warehouse was near a crater, one of the places ODIN had struck directly into the Earth, and teetered on the edge of oblivion as it was half-falling apart and drenched in red rust. Occasionally, as a tremor rolled through, pieces of it would fall off and slam to the ground a million miles away, deep into the crust of what was left. 
Definitely a place for a safe house. No one would bother to look here unless you already knew about it or were hiding something.
Thinking to yourself, you rub the sweat off your nose with the back of your hand, eyes flickering to the hole in the Earth with shielded disgust. It had been over ten years, but the horror was still there. All of those innocent people… 
“Here,” The smooth voice startles you, but your attention diverts quickly to the man at your side. His hands hold out a red cloth in his first and second fingers and pointedly avoids sneaking a peak at your shocked expression. Your mouth opens and closes, optics bouncing back and forth between the gift and the strange Ghost. 
You could hear a pin drop if you had one to throw.
“The fuck are you doing?” 
“Your stench is going to alert the guards – wipe yourself off. I need to repeat myself, Princess?” With an unamused face, you snatch the textile and rub it over your heated skin, reveling in the dismissal of layers of salt. 
“Asshole,” You mutter, “You better not have used this before me; if I get acne I’m shaving your head in your sleep and siccing Riley on you.” 
“Sounds fun. Better make sure I’m dead by the end of it.”
“Trust me, I will. I’ll make sure to chuck your body from the Fort wall, too,” Sliding past him, you toss the cloth at his chest, “Hunting lodge is this way.” 
You get so close your shoulders lightly brush, and although you hate the implications, the action leaves your chest tight as you inhale his scent of blood and shrill chemicals. Clenching your jaw, you don’t take in the way his warmth floods your veins or the cold gaze that follows your back as you walk away; briefly softening around the edges like a blunt blade before being sharpened once more under stone and rock.
Hearing his feet lightly caress the ground behind you, you let out a slow breath, shoving away a branch of a low tree and peeping back. Keegan's gaze locks on your own as if he was waiting for this, and you curse not being able to see his expression – but it wasn’t like that would give away anything either. The Ghost was blank, much like the bulletin board had been when you ripped your work from it.
Raising a dark brow, the man grunts under his breath in question as his large shadow leeks over your form. 
“Nothin,’” You mutter and turn back, fixing the strap of your rifle and side step a piece of cut wood, looking like it was the remains of a windowsill that had been broken during the shockwave and flung from a house, “Thanks for the rag. Even if it did smell like Gun Oil.”
Blinking down at the forgotten object, your arms push through one more set of fauna and huff when you lay eyes on the run-down lodge that would be Base Camp. Rushing up the decaying steps, you push the paint-peeing door open and throw your hands out.
“And here we are,” Walking with acute familiarity into the one-room area, “Home sweet home,” You nod your head to the left, where a large window gives a clear view of the Warehouse down below, “We’ll take the shot from over there, but…here…where did I…?” 
Stumbling to a stop, you take one step back and ignore the narrowed eyes on your back.
“The hell you looking for, Kid?” 
“Shh,” You snap your fingers at a loose board near a broken-down TV stand, “There we go!” Jogging over, you place your foot on one end of the board and grab the now-propped-up opposite side with a heavy hand. Like a teeter-totter. 
Tossing the wood away, you grab the stash you had hidden years ago and hold it aloft near your head as you turn around.
Keegan watches with small eyes, head tilted, and feeling a bit curious about where this was going. What were you holding in your hand…? Was that…?
“Chocolate bars? I thought those were under strict ration laws?” His booted feet carry him closer to you and the plastic bag holding three bars of the old treat, “Damn, Kid.” 
The man didn’t ask how you knew they were there – at least, yet – but he had an idea. You had logged more hours outside than anyone else besides the Ghosts, and with your affinity to keep to your own, it was only common sense that you had stashes all over California.
“Special occasion,” You mutter, opening the bag and tossing him one. Of course, he catches it, flipping it over in his hands and rubbing a thumb over the wrapper. Keegan’s eyes filter back to yours slowly, and under him, his feet shuffle to shift his weight. 
“Y’know these things are probably older than Fort Santa Monica, right? It’ll give you gut rot.”
“God, I hope so,” You rip the wrapper open and snap off a piece as you hear crinkling from the other bar being opened; you toss yours into your mouth and smirk, “Maybe Ajax’ll finally lend me his alcohol stash to help me out for once. Bastard keeps making excuses.”
The bar was a bit stale if you were being honest, but it was still chocolate in your books. Stuffing the rest of it in your side pocket, you slip the rifle from around your back and head to the window, with the butt of the gun you raise it up and bring it down. A corner of the glass shatters into a million pieces, falling to the ground outside like tiny stars and reflecting the dying light. 
Far below, miles away, the Warehouse seems dead to the world, but your and Keegan’s trained eyes spy the microscopic shadows in the rust-strangled metal walls, slipping past like rats over the holes and windows. 
“Visual?” The man next to you asks, pulling back down his balaclava, and your ears twitch as you gaze through your scope; watching with perfected focus. Pulling back with a grunt, you flip the gun and rest the barrel against the wall, sighing.
“Negative. There won’t be until the sun sets fully,” Keegan turns to look down at you, and the fabric around his mouth shifts into a frown. You raise a brow and explain, not needing him to ask his question, “I‘ve tracked this guy like a teenager on the internet who has a crush. I know his routine. When the sun sets he checks the perimeter with two of his guards, Fabián Julieta and Santos Rosa – I have reason to believe they’re his cousins, but it’s never been confirmed.”
“You sure he’ll do that?” Keegan scoffs, looking back out and tapping his fingers over his thigh holster, “There was just an attempt on his life. Not exactly the time to follow procedure.”
“Well, I suppose I’ll have to leave it to fate. Plus,” You can’t help but mutter, “We wouldn’t have been in this situation if you hadn’t messed up.”
The air thickens.
Keegan’s body stills, frozen like his bones had just been covered in frost and doused in frigid waters. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch with bated breath. But he notices the trap, it seems, because his neck never enters the snare laid out. The tension that had lived over you both like a dark cloud suddenly gained lighting, quick flashes of light over the sky.
“It’ll be too dark by then,” Is his only response – even if it’s clipped and growled out like a man ready to snap. He wanted to start an argument, you could tell with growing amusement. Keegan’s arms clench at his sides into shaking fists.
“Then it’s a good thing Ghosts can see in the dark,” You smirk, tilting your head to the side and beginning to reach for the rest of the chocolate bar resting in your pocket, “Isn’t that right? Make sure not to freak out and fire at the birds–!” 
The hand latches onto your shoulder before you can process the man had even moved; eyes widening to the size of plates as the pressure snaps your body to face forward. You let out a light yip as your feet drag. Despite the hold being firm, Keegan’s fingers never dig too tight.
Your eyes level on his, gazing deep into his boiling blues that shimmer the longer you stare. Had the middle always had flecks of green? Inside your chest, your heart pounds like a drum as, behind the balaclava, his jaw clenches. Keegan’s breath is like a breeze over your hair, rustling it. 
“Don’t…do that,” He says slowly. You just watch, wide-eyed, “Don’t speak on shit you have no idea about.” 
Whatever had made your lungs constrict fled in an instant.
“What?” Your lips twist, “You mind telling me how I’d have ‘no idea’ about an Op I was supposed to come back with a confirmation of death on?” 
You shove his arm off your shoulder and hate the way the chill of the air overtakes his warmth. 
Keegan’s shoulders set, “Kid, I’m ordering you to–”
“Cut the shit!” You yell, finger going to shove into his face and watching his head whip to it before wafting back to your visage. If possible his shoulders widen even farther, legs tense and straight. This was it – your confusion would go no further, you decided, “You’re going to explain all of this, Keegan–!” 
“Watch the damn volume–”
“Explain why I’m out here, why you messed up the mission–!”
“Listen to me. I need you to–”
“Why my fucking work was all wasted because you pulled the damn trigger and I’m reaping the consequences like an idiot with a guy who hates my guts–!”
“There was a sniper on the roof.”
Your rampage stops just as you were about to open your mouth once more. You stare at him at the bombshell, not even able to process it for a moment. Blinking, you realize you had moved Keegan backward so his back was pressed into the opposite wall; your body was pressed tightly up next to his. With every fast breath, you could feel your chest connect with his, and your finger was still against his peck, digging into the gear. 
Sucking in a quick breath, you gathered what little courage you had gained and looked up into his face with a fire lit in your blood. 
“...W-what?” Keegan’s body shifts and his arms go to grab your elbows. 
He doesn’t move you, just gives them a firm squeeze and explains as his heart pounds in his chest. Under the cloth, his mouth is slightly parted, and his pupils are wide.
“Federation sniper,” He utters, blinking as your face goes void of emotion, “I didn’t know if he’d seen you yet, but I…” 
The Ghost trails off as his thigh brushes yours, all of the pouches uncomfortable to feel digging into his skin, but worth it if he can make this right.
“Why…Why didn’t you tell me?” You whisper out, the skin of your eyebrows moving to press the tiny hairs closer together. This changed everything, “Why did you…?”
Keegan’s face is so close to yours that he can smell your shampoo through the dark fabric over his nose, suddenly suffocating on the comfort the covering usually brought him. Why was his heart racing in his chest? You were being irresponsible, yelling like that, and stubborn, hard-headed. 
But, damn, if anger wasn’t a good look on you. Your body heat was leaking into him, making him swallow heavily.
“Because…knew you’d blame yourself,” He said simply, staring at you deeply as your expression softens just as Keegan’s body does against the wall; you lean in deeper to his hold, “Just didn’t expect you to take it all so hard.”
“What? You just wanted me to let it go?” You utter, feeling and finally admitting how addicting it felt to be this close to him. For the life of you, you can’t find it in yourself to look away from him. What was happening?
“Again, didn’t know you’d take it so hard,” He raises a brow, grip falling from your elbows to lightly grab your hips. You force down a shiver, veins alight with molten lava at the strange contact. The Ghost continues, “Where’d you get the idea I hated you?”
Your throat swallows down saliva, not understanding the feeling in your gut. 
Shit, You think, Maybe that chocolate was bad – my head’s spinning…All I can smell is Keegan. But why am I not trying to leave?
Just a moment ago you were angry at him, but now everything made sense. A sniper, God, he could have just told you. It would have fixed a lot of things.
You mull over his question; do you answer it honestly? But for some odd reason, your mouth runs faster than your mind – it always had, and certainly always would. At least around Keegan, that is.
A breaking point had been reached, wherever you went from here was entirely up to the two of you.
“You said you didn’t want me,” The man’s breath stills, and you feel it just as you hear it; his scanning optics halt their study of your features, as if he had been seeing them for the first time in this light, “That I’d get people killed…why…why do you think I always work by myself nowadays?” Your nose begins to hurt, eyes falling to Keegan’s chest. You try to shove it down, but your hand over his vest shakes slightly. Where was this coming from? Why were you telling him this? The source of your animosity, how you two became, at least in your mind, enemies, “I just didn’t want to be a problem.”
Muttering out the last sentence, you swear Keegan’s chest hitches, heart kickstarting. 
“I…” He begins after a long moment of mutually avoiding eye contact. If you look into those beautifully cold blues you might break. 
But voices from below snap whatever the both of you would externally loathe but internally revel in; the longing in the two pairs of eyes is replaced by duty and unsaid words. The action was mechanical, and both parties rushed to the window, with your fingers grasping the rifle and Keegan grabbing the binoculars from his largest pouch. 
Like birds of prey, the two work in such sync that others would question if they even hated each other at all – and if they had seen the scene just moments prior the thoughts of denial would have been strengthened ten-fold. 
Did you hate Keegan? Or did you hate what he had done? Now really wasn’t the time to question it, but as the Ghost called out the distance and spotted Vidal Teo in pitch darkness, you can’t help but mutter, “Knew you could see in the dark, Kee,” And lined up the shot. 
Your finger pulls the trigger with little more than a second thought, and your shoulder catches the recoil with a grunt leaving your lips. 
“Direct hit. Target down,” A soft hand squeezes your shoulder as you watch the body drop from the scope. Grim satisfaction breeds in your heart. Your eye roves to Keegan’s face, who nods his head at you, “It was a good shot, Princess.”
Face heating, all you do is scoff, rolling your eyes, “Yeah, well…I suppose you called it.”
“Really, you can’t just take the compliment?“
“Do you want me to beat you over the head with this rifle?”
You both stand up and send coded glances to the other, and where the backhanded comments would usually be hostile, the small differences in presentation lean more toward teasing than anything. 
It was…nice. Foreign, but nice.
Chuckling, you toss the rifle around your back and listen to panicked voices echoing out from the warehouse. Keegan still stands near the window, with his back to it, while you inch to the door and itch at the back of your neck. He stares at you strangely, no doubt thinking about what you had confessed prior.
He had no idea you had heard the conversation with Elias. The Ghost’s chest constricts, remembering the words he had said in concern and anger. Had you really heard all of it? That would explain the sudden cold attitude that was mirrored back to him all those months ago.
Damn, Keegan blinks, and his head tilts as you stare back at him with a questioning expression. Your face was innocent with sweaty flesh filled with dust and grime. His fingers itched to wipe away the slash of black dirt from your forehead and, against his will, his stone blue softened to water in his eye sockets.
Your lips twitch at the rare expression. You had a lot to talk about when you both get back to base. 
“We should get going before–” 
Glass shatters, and a loud pop like an opening soda can startles you so bad you swore your heart stopped. Two things happen in that instance that will be ingrained into your head forever, carved like a scar in the fine tissue and tender to the touch.
One, his blood splattered your face, making you blink rapidly and reel back.
Two, the sound of Keegan’s hitting the floor – deadweight – and the loud gasp that exits his mouth, all the air expelled from his lungs not allowing him to even scream.
“Keegan!” You yell, rushing over and grabbing onto his shoulders, flipping him over with a grunt and panicked breath as you brush away the crimson from your eye sockets with a fast hand, “Shit!”
His body slams once more to the old wood, this time his back now on the floor. Blood pools down from a gunshot wound over his right abdomen, and your eyes land on it immediately, lungs struggling to suck down air.
Below you, Keegan lets out a wheezing sound, arm coming half-up to clench in the space above him, shaking violently. 
“Fucken’...” The man gasps, and his body jerks, trying to move despite the hole in his side. Your fingers rip open your medical pouch, eyes darting back to the window. You lightly stand up, frantic eyes darting and freezing. Spying a glint of light reflected from the moon, you quickly dip back to the floor.
Sniper scope. 
Rushing to grab Keegan under the shoulders, he yells out curses as you drag him to the side and out of the line of sight of the window. Tearing out a rag and a roll of gauze from your stash, you look at his face as you shove the cloth against the leaking wound, bunching the fabric and working it into the crater. 
Keegan snarls, head going back to slam to the floor as his eyes flutter. Those blues of his were wide and whizzing back and forth in a primal display, and behind the balaclava, you could see his throat bob with strangled, open-mouthed, breaths. Fuck, fuck, fuck…!
“Hey!” You shout, bringing up one hand and lightly slapping his cheek as you lean your body weight into his side. Your heart was going too fast, it was going to break out of your chest if you didn’t get a grip. But…Keegan’s blood was staining your hands; leaking down your face to drip from your chin. And the fact remained that the Federation soldiers now knew your position and were rushing to the dilapidated lodge. You needed to get him out of here, “Keep your damn eyes open – the only person who gets to kill you is me!”
“What…what the fuck, Princess?”
“You heard me!” Your body was shaking just as much as Keegans as you gnash your teeth together, “‘Doesn’t listen,’ my ass, your ears work less than mine do.” 
You’re panicking; using born and breed sarcasm and clipped words to ease you back into focus.
You had to move him – had to get him out of here. But would you be able to? He was big; far larger than you and weighed twice as much in muscle alone, not to mention the gear... Your mind did the math even as you pleaded with it not to. 
He would have to help you on his own if this was going to work. And that meant keeping him conscious.
Keegan lets out a loud cough, and your fingers itch to move his face-covering so he can breathe better. But you unravel the gauze instead, going to shift his body to wrap it around the rag – holding it in place. 
“Gotta’ move,” He snarls at you, trying to keep the pain at bay as it sweeps over him like waves of water, in and out, in and out.
“Working on it.” 
Right as you tie off a tight knot on the already bloody wrappings, the Ghost tries to get up, an arm turning to slam to the floor behind him and vibrate as he forces his weight on it. Knowing that was a bad idea but not having another choice, you loop one of his arms over your shoulders and grunt. Bearing the brunt of his weight you hold your breath and angle your feet; shoving with all of your strength and gasping out. 
“What the hell do you eat, man? Rocks?” As you grip with your free hand at his limp wrist, you take a quick glance at Keegan when you don’t hear a response. When he’s up, one of your hands goes to wrap around his waist. 
The man’s eyes were fluttering fast, pupils retracted in pain. The blood leaking from him stains your body as you hike his form closer to you, feeling the warmth of the flesh enter your skin like a candle’s flame. 
“Keegan!” You call, shaking his body. The man lets out a low groan, sharp eyes snapping to yours. You're taken aback when you see them immediately soften as they land on your panic-laced form, “You’ve gotta help me, okay?”
Speaking slowly, you hope he listens as he blinks at the blood on your face, eyebrows tensing.
“Copy,” He mutters and sends about the closest he can to a stiff nod your way. 
Immediately all weight is taken from your hold and he stumbles to stand up straight, a hand snapping to his side as his feet drag.
“Not all of it! Idiot!” Growling, you rip him back to you, hissing in disapproval as he lets out a deep curse; nearly falling into you. Forcing him forward, you go as fast as you’re able to the entrance door and already a sheen of exertion is falling over your face. How the hell is he so heavy?
“Fuckin’ confusing, Kid…Just tell me what you– what you want, I’m bleeding out here,” Keegan barks, annoyance falling from him onto you. Was it really that impossible for the two of you to get along that you were fighting while he was seeping crimson all over you? You were getting along just a second ago.
“You’re impossible, Keegan Russ,” You lock onto him in the corner of your eye as you practically drag him to the door, shoving it open with your shoulder. Your fingers dig into his side and his wrist, trying not to get distracted by the strong muscle you feel writhing under your touch. Without meaning to, your grip had gravitated under his shirt, touching bare skin littered with scars and burns – hot and pulsing with life.
Your grip goes deeper, nails creating crescent moons in his flesh as you, somehow, get him down the stairs without falling flat on your face.
Did he just shiver?
“Evac point,” Muttering to yourself, you move faster, heart beating as shouts echo out over the hills, “Shit.”
“Focus,” Keegan utters to your side, “Don’t think about it. What…what’ll happen will happen.”
“Bullshit,” You growl and glance back to see the trail of blood over the ground. Shaking your head you stumble into the treeline, mouth open to help you suck down more air into your lungs, “If you expect me to believe that, you’re a fool.”
“..Maybe,” He coughs, and you have to pause for a moment and look in concern as dark phlegm splatters to the ground. No, you think, no not yet. He can’t do this to you, “Maybe I have been.”
“What,” You attempt a wet chuckle, not liking the conversation but if it kept him awake you would entertain it, “It only took you taking a shot to the side to realize that? There’s no hope for you, Kee.”
“Like when you call me that,” Lips thinning, you work your legs faster, dodging a rock and shimmying past a tree, “Sounds nice.” 
Your face heats at the shock-induced confession, breath inhaled in a sharp breath. 
You look at him, only to find his eyes already locked on your visage. The unrelenting optics ripped you open with how lucid they looked, even if his mouth seemed to have lost its filter. Taking it as a good sign, you tear your head back to the front, biting into your lips as your legs shake.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” You whisper, clearing your throat as Keegan lets out a small strangled sound from the back of his mouth as you stumble over a log on the ground, “But keep talking to me, yeah?”
“I don’t hate you,” He confessed with a soft voice, “...Was jus’ worried you would hurt yourself. Too hard-headed for your own good.”
“Could say the same thing about you,” Your lungs are burning, but you remind yourself it’s not even half as much pain as Keegan is going through. He carries himself so well, even holding some of his own weight to help you. How was he even still standing? If you had gotten shot like that, you’d be screaming your head off.
He’s a Ghost, You remind yourself, They defy all laws of nature and common sense.
“I’m sorry, Kid,” That makes you stop, body halting halfway through a step as your face blanks, panting out air and eyes popping out at the weak words, “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”
Swallowing down saliva into your dry throat, your mind tells you to keep moving. The meeting in Elias’s office…he was…he was apologizing to you? Stuttering only a moment, you resume your break-neck journey with a burning face and jumping heart. 
“Apology not accepted,” You growl, sending a sharp glance his way. Keegan’s eyes widen in surprise – but they look slightly buggy, “When we get back to the Fort, you’re saying it again…When you’re not getting me all covered in your fluids.”
The chuckle he lets out startles you, but you resist the urge to bring him even closer to your form and bask in his heat. He was…nice to feel against you, you admitted. Strong. Comforting in a rabid dog sort of way.
“Yeah, but you’d like…like that wouldn’t you, Princess?”
…Did he just..? When your jaw drops in shock, he lets out another gasping chuckle that divulges into a coughing fit. Getting your bearing back, you roll your eyes above the embarrassment in your blood even as your lower body pulses. Your legs shuffle as your breath goes thin.
“Let’s keep the dirty jokes under wraps, too, okay?... Who knew blood loss made you into a fucking comedian? Mr. Stand-Up over here.”
“Hm,” Keegan grunts, wheezing in a breath. You watch a dribble of blood fall from the side of his mouth with a grim face, mind running. 
He can’t die, You shake with nerves and adrenaline, I won’t let him. 
There was a brimming affection for the man you had been forcing down like a mouthful of food, and his drunk honestly right now was throwing you for a loop.
“I’ll get you to the Evac point, Keegan, I promise,” The shouts were getting closer, and the Ghost’s eyes were falling closed once more. 
You wanted to see his face – make him stare at you.
“Know you will,” His eyes clenched closed and you felt his weight fall more over you. Groaning breathily, you take it and continue onward with little concern for how your nerves tingle, “Y’know,” The next words he says are so muffled you barely hear them, but when your brain processes the gravel and sifts through the depth of it, you feel tears wet the sides of your vision, “I think I a-actually like you, Kid.”
Keegan goes slack, and the sounds of shouting grow ever closer. It takes everything in you not to scream out.
He wakes up with a buzzing in his ears and a bright light assaulting his eyes. It takes Keegan a good while to fully open his eyelids, flinching as the bulbs set into the ceiling seem to only get more violent as his senses come back to him. 
A groan exits his lips, and the scent of bleach and sterile air makes his head rove on the hard pillow under it.
“Well,” A masculine voice results in Keegan jolting up like he was hit with an electrical current, body spasming at him to stay still but not able to stop the ingrained instincts in his head, “Took you long enough. Ajax was just about losing his mind for one of you two to wake up. Had to order him to go run laps.”
“Merrick,” Keegan clenches his hands in pain, but his eyes fall to the man sitting in one of the visitor chairs at the door. The Medical Ward's familiar walls soon entered his sight, and ignoring the flair of agony in his bandaged side, the dark-haired man brought a hand to his face. Keegan takes a deep breath and flinches, “Explain.”
“What happened,” Standing, the stocky man cracks his neck, rolling his shoulders before glancing down to his side. Merrick points over Keegan's shoulder and nods his head, “Is that the girl dragged your limp ass all the way to the Evac point with a bullet wound in ‘er shoulder. Took out a few soldiers as well – one helluva hot exit.”
Sneaking a peak back, Keegan was stunned to find a matching hospital bed not a few feet from his own, a rack for a curtain drawn back to allow a view of a woman asleep; her right arm was in a sling and heavily bandaged, the covers pulled back to her midsection. You. His eyes stay locked on your form, momentarily forgetting the pulling of sutures in his side. 
You had…gotten shot. Protecting him.
“How bad,” His lips move faster than his head, a trait he was beginning to pick up and associate with only you.
“You needed to go into surgery–”
“Not me,” Keegan growled, itching at the gown that had been put on him. His eyes never left you, the peaceful expression on your face he had never seen before leaving a warm feeling in his gut. With a sigh, he mutters out with a tone far softer than it had been before, “Her.”
Merrick smirks, watching the rise and fall of your chest and seeing Keegan doing the same, just far more closely. 
“Prescribed pain meds and on leave for two months. It was a clean shot – lucky for her.”
Keegan nods his head stiffly, moving the pillows up on the elevated mattress and leaning back with a throaty groan. 
“I’ll go tell Elias you’re awake,” Merrick swiftly turns and opens the door, but pauses in the opening. The other man watches closely with a frown. Without turning around, Thomas utters, “Kid was pretty shook up when you wouldn’t come ‘round. You should fix that.”
The Ghost disappears and closes the door behind him. 
Blinking at the wooden barrier, Keegan wastes no time in pushing back the covers of his bed and pressing his feet to the floor; hissing at the chill but only running a hand through his hair in retaliation. His dark eyes watched you as he gritted his teeth at the strain in his side, the faint ripping of stitches. 
The pain didn’t bother him, didn’t sway his actions. His socked feet move over the floor to stand above you. He breathes slowly, sucking down cool air as he pauses for a minute or two.
“You’re something else, Kid,” Keegan whispers, cold eyes narrowing as his thumb goes to swipe away the dirt smudge on your forehead with delicate movements. He didn’t want to wake you. 
The mirror across the room shows a beast of a man carefully cleaning the face of a woman who murmurs to herself, shifting closer to the hold with a small sigh. Keegan, whose lips quirk in a small smile that pulls at scars and black, irreversible, face paint, finds the warmth in his blood addicting. His heart slowly speeds up, and although crimson was staining his bandages, he couldn’t find it in him to go back to bed. 
“If you keep doing that,” Your voice snaps him out of his stupor, and his hand is snatched back to his side in an instant; feet shoulder length apart and tense, “I just might die on you.”
The light above you plays in your eyes, bouncing off the color and reflecting it directly into Keegan’s iris as the skin of your eyelids peel back. You blink up at him, vision coming back into focus as you stretch your legs out under the covers. 
Sending a small smile to his blank face, you chuckle, “What?” You groan, “I was being sarcastic.”
A smirk is all you get, a slight twitching at the side of his lips at the fatigue in your tone.
“How long?” Keegan asks, raising a dark brow. Knowing what he’s asking, you scoff, face bright.
“Only about five minutes. I caught the end of Merricks conversation,” You reply.
“Hm.”
“Don’t give me that look – I’m in the room, what do you want me to do…not listen? Tch,” Your hand presses into the mattress, shoving you up. 
A hand splays over your back immediately to help. 
Goosebumps litter your arms as Keegan’s grip lightly digs into your gown, assisting you where your other arm can’t. Sparing him a glance, you watch with heat on your ears and neck as his attention remains solely fixated on you. Blue breaks open your skin and infects you with its chill. Liking the feel of it, you let it in and embrace it. 
When you’re sitting up, silence ensues, with Keegan’s eyes studying your body as you do the same. His hand remained on your back. 
Does he remember what he said? You wonder, locking on the thick wrappings under the man’s gown with a frown, Or was he too out of it?
“Feelin’ alright, Princess?” Your eyebrows raise as he tilts his head.
“I should be asking you that.”
“We both got shot,” Keegan shoots back, and the black around his eyes creases as he deadpans at you.
“You passed out – I didn’t. Don’t blame me because you decided to take a nap, Big Guy.”
“So, you’re just full of nicknames now, are you?” 
“Hm,” You smirk, voice low and teasing, “Perhaps…Raccoon Eyes.”
Keegan scoffs, turning his head away in exasperation. You were both the same people from hours ago, but something felt different – the air was lighter, bordering on sacred. Looking at each other with hesitant vulnerability, hearts yearning but not quite certain where to begin. So many jagged pieces of glass to buffer out, smooth along the edges, and pray that they became mosaics of brightly colored perfection that glittered in the sunlight. But you could still slice your fingers open, despite the years of practice and knowledge of that sacred art, feel the blood splatter the table and leak into the fine lines of your palm.
But, perhaps, it was time to try. 
“I guess I owe you one,” You admit awkwardly, suddenly avoiding eye contact and feeling sheepish. This was new to you, “You saved me from a sniper but I couldn’t see the one behind you.”
“You owe me twice, then,” When you send him a scalding look, he puffs out a breath to show it was a joke and continues as you roll your eyes and smile softly, “..but, uh,” Keegan clears his throat, “Don’t…worry about it, Kid,” Your eyes snap to his side profile, blinking in shock as his eyes rove the room, watching the cracks in the floors as you gape at him. Why…why did he sound like that? Like the gravel in his words had smoothed over and was suddenly a paved road with moss along the edges; gentle to the touch. And why did your heart skip a beat at it, “Forget about it.” 
“...What?” Your voice is small, genuine confusion whispered out as you watch the muscles in his face move. Keegan’s jaw was clenched, his nose scrunching as he rolled it and fixed his stance. It was adorable the way he was trying not to face you.
His head turns to his gear that Merrick had placed on the large table across the room. You watch him lightly limp to it, mind still trying to think through what was going on. His shredded hand goes to the back pocket of his folded cargo pants, and your ears twitch at a crinkling nose. The Ghost pulls out an empty chocolate wrapper and you feel your heart stop all together when he holds it aloft. He shuffles back over. 
“It was alright, little stale, but not bad,” Those steel blue eyes slide to yours, and your face heats; throat tightens. Since when has your pulse rampaged like that outside of a gun battle? Keegan’s lips quirk into a slow smirk at your expression, “Not bad at all. I’m sorry that I ate it all.”
You have to look away before you pass out, all confidence now gone and dignity stomped on when you realized that you liked when he looked at you with those eyes of his. Your hand clenches over the covers, finding that double meaning with brimming affection.
Oh, you just hated him…but your breath still gets stolen all the same.
“Yeah, well,” Your hand goes to scratch at the back of your neck to ground yourself, “Don’t get used to it, Kee. That bar was worth like fifty bucks if we’d have just sold it.”
You decide his laugh is better than any old chocolate bar, and that you wanted to taste it on your tongue until the very sun died out. Until your bones were bleach white from age.
There was no doubt he remembered what he had told you as you dragged him along, scared and wishing he would stay awake; that was simply judging by the sparkle in his pupil and the way he was facing you now. 
Smirking, you raise a brow and grab the man by the collar of his gown. 
Ah, what the hell. Better to start strong.
When you smash his lips to yours, you decide right then and there when Keegan melts into you, his hand going to grip the back of his head, that maybe being enemies wasn’t so bad at all.
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lbxbx · 2 months
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Cockpit 9 | knj
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Pair: Namjoon x reader
Summary: Namjoon goes through a rough time while getting a divorce, meeting you at the club two weeks in a row when attraction becomes unreal.
Rating: +18 mature content, Smut, divorce, fatherhood, mentions of anxiety attacks, mentions of abuse, mentions of bribery.
taglist: @wecanpretendit | @whoisbts | @yoonjinsrkive | @my-current-mood-is | @joonzseoulmate | @parkinglot-nights | @missbangtangirl | @m00njinnie | @mantaecrolss
Previous | Next
This entire weekend was incredible, yet still a huge weight sits on your shoulders when all of them blend in with Namjoon and seem to be liking him… a lot!
You spent so much time over thinking the fact if you and Namjoon didn’t actually end up together everything is going to end up being awkward for you two.
Jungkook has already planned a workout routine with the guy and they agreed to meet up a couple times a week, even when he used to work out with you, but you’re long forgotten. Yoongi wanted to take him out and play basketball, Taehyung wanted to see a cockpit in real life so he politely asked Namjoon to show him one.
You’re a little overwhelmed that you kind of regret the fact that you introduced them together, you wish time went by fast so you could go home.
Less than a week after, Hoseok is driving on his way back home from the court house, that day he had planned dinner with you and a movie night, not only because he genuinely misses you and  wants to hang out with you; but he’s trying to keep you away from Namjoon a little, not that he’s against anything or whatever, he just wants you to take your time with the whole thing. So he planned a sleepover at his place, and it’s just you two.
You’ve always been close together and did these kinds of nights occasionally if neither of you had to work, so you wouldn’t mind at all, in fact you would love to.
Hoseok’s phone rings while he’s driving and he puts his phone on speaker when he answers. “Hello?”
“Mister Jung? Hi this is Mister Lee speaking, I’m one of your clients.” It seems to be an older man on the other side and Hoseok gets a little suspicious, he has way too many clients and most of them share their first names, so he apologizes. “I’m sorry, but I’m currently driving, can you make it quick please?”
“Absolutely, I wanted to talk to you regarding my daughter’s hearing on September 14th, you’re her husband’s lawyer aren’t you?”
He feels the need to park the car on the side of the road as he grabs his phone and checks his schedule, Namjoon’s hearing is scheduled that day along with two other sessions. “What’s the spouse’s name?” He asks.
“Kim Namjoon, I thought that we could make a deal with you.”
Hoseok rolls his eyes.
A little cheap shot from her family, but most of the other parties when they find out that Jung Hoseok is against their own lawyer, they try their last shot which is bribery. The whole field of law is intoxicated with bribery and even though it is in fact a federal crime, it still occurs frequently.
And of course, Hoseok is filthy rich, because really, he can’t deny that if he got a  good offer, he would totally accept the bribe and not try hard defending his own client, but of course he wouldn’t accept the bribe if they offer a fake or invalid evidence to hold against his own  client.
But considering Namjoon actually matters to you and you’re his close friend, Hoseok decides to actually listen and figure out what they have in hand. “Sure go ahead.”
“3 and a half million won if you make him change his mind and cancel the divorce.”
Of course her father doesn’t even own the 3 and a half million won. Even if Hoseok actually got Namjoon to change his mind, her family would take the Kim’s money to pay Hoseok.
Hoseok laughs. “Do you have any valid reason from him to change his mind about the divorce?”
“We have witnesses, he was seen in public with someone else, and we have a witness of abuse.”
Hoseok knew that you being around Namjoon all the time will complicate things, he rubs his forehead and nods. “We need an actual concrete evidence, do you have any? Video tapes, pictures, clothing item?”
The older man laughs nervously. “We don’t have concrete evidence sir, aren’t witnesses just enough?”
“Of course not, for all we know, your witnesses can easily lie.” Hoseok’s answer is more than enough for the man to just sigh, “I will get the concrete evidence, can we visit you in your office when we’re ready?”
“Absolutely.”
“Thank you Mister Jung, we’re sorry for keeping  you busy.” The older man apologizes before saying goodbye and hanging up.
Of course Hoseok doesn’t need the evidence to begin with, even if Namjoon was actually guilty, he was going to defend him just because he knows that the man matters to you.
But he feels the need to tell you, that the man may be accused of actual abuse. And he needs to talk to Namjoon and see if he ever touched the woman in an inappropriate way.
He finally gets home to take a shower and get dressed, as he waits for you to show up, you two were going to bake pizza from scratch and he had everything prepared for you two to cook together.
He grabs out Namjoon’s file to put on the coffee table before you finally arrive there and ring the doorbell.
You were working that day on the morning shift, Namjoon wanted you to come over to his place since his soon to be ex partner is in Ilsan with her parents, but you told him that you had plans with Hoseok and of course he gave you your space and wished you a pleasant time.
You got back from work and dressed into a pair of sweatpants and a  hoodie and you matched it  with a pair of socks and a slipper, and you drove to Hoseok’s place with a six pack of beer.
“There you are.” He opens the door and pulls you into a hug, you hug him back and kiss him on the cheek, “What’s up?” Before walking towards his kitchen to put down the beer, he opens the fridge to shove the drinks inside and grabs you out a bottle of water. “I have some tea to spill.”
“You do? I love a little gossip.” You grab the bottle and untwist the cap. “Who’s sleeping with who? Is Jungkook sleeping with someone’s girl?”
He laughs and scratches his nose. “I’m not surprised you think that, but nope, it’s actually regarding you.”
You’re a little taken back when he speaks, he even crosses his arms and looks at you in the eyes, one eyebrow cocked up.
“Should I be worried?” Your heart drops when he takes a couple seconds to answer you, “Nope, nothing too serious, let’s go sit.”
He points his head towards the living room, both of you walking there.
There is not a single scenario that didn’t go through your head, your anxiety is increasing by the second and he’s taking his time to talk which drives you mad.
You cross your legs under your butt and sit back onto the couch. “What is it?”
He grabs the papers and hands them to you, it takes you a second to recognize that it’s Namjoon’s  divorce papers, clipped onto a thick file that was hand written by his previous attorney, consisting of Namjoon’s testimony.
“What’s the matter?” You worriedly ask and he eyes you carefully before he speaks. “His father in law found my number somehow and called today to put an offer, of course Namjoon doesn’t know.”
“Hobi, I think I should stay out of this, it’s none of my business.” You put the file down and sigh, a little relieved that it’s nothing concerning you in person.
“No Y/N.” Your stomach drops when he uses your name clearly. “I think you have to know, they’re trying to find a concrete evidence of abuse, and they have a witness who claims that Namjoon was seen in public with someone. Look, I’m just worried if what they are claiming is true.” He whispers as if someone might listen.
You bite onto your nails anxiously, you know Namjoon’s side of the story but you don’t know hers’. And perhaps everything they’re claiming can actually turn out to be true.
But you shake that thought immediately away, you’ve known the man for more than two months now and you swear on your own life that he’s been nothing but good to you.
“Did you go out with him?” Hoseok’s deep voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you even flinch. “We went out together a couple weeks ago, but that’s it.” You shrug. “We mostly hung out in my place.”
“And did anyone recognize Namjoon or something?” He asks. “Someone might’ve spotted him.”
You’re totally unaware of what happened in the wine cellar that evening and it didn’t even cross your mind because you didn’t over think it in the first place. Plus you were a little tipsy.
You shake your head. “Not at all.”
He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, “I’d really appreciate it if you brainstorm a little.” He puts his hand onto your leg for support before getting up. “I’m not going to dig further more into the topic of abuse unless they hand me the evidence.” He walks towards the kitchen.
“I think you should talk to them.”
And he stops to look at you behind his shoulder. “What do you mean?”
“Make them trust you, maybe they’ll spell out the truth.” You simply suggest.
“Do you have a plan?
You simply shrug with a little pout forming onto your lips. “You know your job better than I do.”
He pauses for a second and scratches his temple. “Fine, I’m in, but can we please get to cooking? My brain won’t function when I’m hungry.”
You get up onto your feet and head to the kitchen with him.
-
The night is getting longer and the time is passing really slow since winter is about to come up early this year, you’ve always hated night shifts when the night got longer but now you don’t mind them. Namjoon has been keeping you entertained  throughout the entire night, texting or even video calling when he’s in the hotel room outside Seoul.
“Hey, I got you some coffee.” Seokjin makes a surprise visit to the emergency room and puts the cup down in front of you, he’s looking tired and he could barely stand on his feet. “Thank you, you don’t seem okay,”
He leans against the wall and closes his eyes. “I’m not feeling well, I think I have a fever.”
You get up on your feet and grab his arm to lead him onto one of the beds and close the curtain. “Lay down.” He obeys and immediately shuts his eyes, you grab the nearest thermometer and aim it towards his head, and indeed he does have a fever. “What hurts?”
“Nothing too serious, I think it’s the flu because my tonsils hurt.” He barely speaks. “Can you write me a sick leave? And can the nurses give me something? I’m really tired.”
You laugh and ruffle his hair. “Oh so that’s what the coffee’s for.” And he flips you off because he’s too tired to bite back at you.
“Fine. Stay here.” You open the curtains and head out to the nurses to give them the order on what to give him before writing him a sick leave.
The emergency door slides open and an old man walks in with a woman behind him, both are walking so it seems that there is nothing too urgent to you. They take the bed right next to Seokjin’s and leave the curtain open, waiting for you to come over.
You take a sip of your coffee that you know is going to get cold by the time you’re done and make your way towards them with one of your nurses to introduce yourself. “Who’s the patient?”
“I am.” How can you forget her features? You’ve seen her once but you remember every detail on this woman. There’s a ring still on her left hand.
“Lay down please,” You put a pair of gloves on and walk near her before the man next to her stops you. “We would prefer if it was just you examining her.” He looks at you then looks at the nurse who’s about to turn around and leave before you grab her wrist. “She has to be here to assist me.”
“But we want some privacy.” He insists, you squint your eyes and tilt your head. “And you are..?”
“Her father.”
Makes sense, she looked a lot like him, you feel resentful towards them both that you couldn’t control your facial expressions. The nurse leaves as you give the woman in front of you a half assed examination.
“Breathe.” You order her as your stethoscope sits on her back, your other hand supporting her other shoulder.
Her sense of smell is heightened all the time, and the perfume on you smells so familiar, of course she can’t forget the night she first smelled it on Namjoon’s shirt, and what makes her a little suspicious is that she smelled his shirt on the same night that her second cousin claimed that he saw Namjoon with someone..
But of course this doesn’t prove anything since people tend to like similar perfumes, she looks at you and sinks in her thoughts. Quite good looking, but a doctor who probably doesn’t have the time to go out with someone.
“What brings you here today?” Your question snaps her out of her thoughts, she’s about to open her mouth to speak but her father grabs her by the shoulder and whispers. “We need your help.”
You stand in front of them in confusion before you ask. “How can I help?”
“My daughter is going through a divorce and the lawyer asked for a medical report to give to the court.” He nods and has the audacity to say. “And you women understand each other, we need your help with a medical report to prove that she’s been a victim of violence.”
Her parents are putting in all their effort to find  their evidence, of course her second cousin wasn’t able to snap the picture earlier, but they’re using their twisted ways and trying to dig deep just to prove that Namjoon was there with someone.
They even asked the company that held the tour to send them the list of people who booked on that day but it was confidential and no one was allowed to have it, and Namjoon got lucky with that..
And of course they offered a few doctors that are related to them a bribe just to fake reports of abuse, or even fake reports that she’s pregnant so that the divorce can be delayed. Her father is working on a big project and he needs funding for it, the divorce cannot happen any time soon.
Someone suggested that they should head to hospitals in Seoul rather than Ilsan since her and her husband live there, and that she should visit an emergency doctor so that they could help her with her medical report.
You feel your body fuming with anger and you’re even more bitter now, you clear your throat and look up into his face to see that he’s dead serious. Other doctors would’ve probably done it, but of course you wouldn’t because it’s unfair to Namjoon and unfair to you and your job.
“Could you give me a minute please?” You force a fake smile and open the curtain to head back to the counter, a little overwhelmed.
The bed next to them is occupied by  Seokjin who’s on his IV medication, and even when his ears were buzzing due to his fever, he could still hear the conversation happening next to him very easily since there’s only a curtain between them.
“Something’s suspicious.” She whispers and her father grits on his teeth before answering. “This is all your fault, we wouldn’t have gone through all this.”
“The night our cousin told us that he  saw Namjoon with someone—“
Seokjin’s eyes almost fall out of their socket when he hears the mention of Namjoon.
“—He came back the next day smelling exactly like the doctor’s perfume.”
Fuck, Seokjin gets a head rush when he rises up from his seat too quickly to turn off the IV fluid and leave the bed. He makes sure that he’s seen when he stands next to you really close and wraps his arm around your waist awkwardly.
You flinch and look at him, a little terrified by his sudden touch. “Wh—“
“Put your hand around me and shut up.” He whispers. A frown sits on your face and you’re a little too angry to be doing this nonsense with him. He can see the debate happening in your head so he presses on his teeth and whispers again. “Just do as I say.”
And you put your hand around him with a clear cringe on your face, before he speaks a little loud. “I was looking for you honey, where have you been?”
You scrunch your nose and tilt your head. “Huh?”
“I miss you.” He’s loud enough for them to hear, he presses a kiss onto your cheek and tugs your hair behind your ear. “O-oh, you have patients?”
You’re still confused and you’re seriously starting to think that the man may be hallucinating from his fever, “Get back to your patient, call me when you’re done.” And he simply leaves the emergency room.
Meanwhile her father looks at her and she looks back at him before he whispers. “She’s clearly married, stop over thinking.”
You turn and get back towards them with your arms crossed, you’ve had your time to think, and it’s a little last minute, but it’s time to initiate some sort of plan.
So you fully decide on giving them the report but before that you give them some false information and they seem to believe it. “Of course I’ll help you, we’ve helped women before and we’re glad to help you.” You even fake a smile. “But we need to give you the report sealed in an envelope so that the court could accept it, it’s something with the law I guess.” You shrug. “And I’m going to sign it with my name right by the seal so that they know it hasn’t been opened before.”
Her father has a smile of victory on his face and looks at his daughter who’s a little occupied looking at your fingers to see if you’re  actually wearing a ring or not, still not convinced with what she saw earlier. And luckily that day you were wearing your cheapest jewelry and you wore one of the rings on your left ring finger. Now she’s finally convinced.
“Please stay here, I’ll go write the report and have it ready for you.” You nod and get back to the counter to sit in front of the computer and start typing.
Her full name and age, her history and physical examination.
Before stating clearly, that there are no signs of abuse, no bruises, no signs of cuts or wounds, no fractures, her vital signs which indicate that she’s perfectly well, before signing your name and printing the paper and folding into an envelope and sealing it.
“There you go.” You gladly hand them the envelope, a little happy on the inside that you got to do something to prove Namjoon’s case. “Thank you so much.” Her father snatches the report from your hand, and he’s a split second away from opening it before you stop him. “Sir, if you opened that envelope you can’t give it to court and no one else can write you another one.”
“I have to read it.” He’s about to open it again but again you interrupt him, constant non true bullshit coming out your mouth. “Her name has been logged into our system with a copy of that report, if you open the envelope it wouldn’t be valid anymore and it may be used against you.”
And that’s what convinces him to stop, his daughter taking the report from him and putting it into her purse. “Thank you.” She gets up and drags her father out of the emergency room.
On her way out, your eyes pierce up and down her figure, of course you were judging her and comparing yourself to her, you know you’re way prettier than she is that you secretly wonder why did the man marry her to begin with.
You roll your eyes at your own thoughts, a little cocky for you to think like that, but oh well.
The moment they leave the emergency room you grab out your phone to see 3 texts and a missed call from Namjoon. You decide not to call him back and instead, call Seokjin to find out what the hell was going on.
And he explains the entire thing to you on the phone, and you’re now happy that he did what he did.
You text back Namjoon of course not letting him know what happened just now, before locking your phone and leaning your head back onto your chair.
A sudden heavy weight sits on your shoulders, and you feel a little too involved in Namjoon’s divorce even when you didn’t want to, which makes you genuinely upset. You now wish you liked a man who was single already and had nothing to go through,  no divorce, no custody, no nothing.
As she returns home with her father she locks the door and he sits onto the couch to clip the closed envelope with the divorce paper, “You better hide this well, he can’t see this do you understand?”
She nods and hesitates to blurt out. “I have something in mind, I know exactly how we can set him up.”
“I think this report is more than enough to get you your rights.” He doesn’t want to listen, totally insisting on doing everything his way. “After all, I can’t lose his father.”
“I know, and what I’m about to do is going to get me more than just my rights.” She holds onto her father. “I can promise you.”
“What are you planning to do?” He finally decides to listen.
-
A little over one week passed by and you and Namjoon still haven’t seen each other since you came back from the beach house, he’s been flying constantly and barely has the time to rest or see his son, and you’ve been working double shifts just to kill time.
Of course Hoseok never left you alone, even if you came back home feeling tired and sleepy, he would bring his papers and work on his cases even when you’re asleep, and by the time you’ve woken up he would’ve ordered food or cooked something. And some nights Yoongi came to sleep over when Mia went back to visit her family.
Hoseok’s plan worked perfectly as he wanted you and Namjoon to keep it low key, of course you had no idea, but he’s doing his best to protect you.
When Hoseok suddenly had “Plans” on a Friday night you knew that he’s hooking up with someone or found a new fling, of course you were home and you knew that Namjoon flies back today from Tokyo, his air carrier had shortage and they asked him to fly internationally even when he hasn’t in a long time.
“I don’t know, I don’t think I should.” You whine as you put the last dish  in the dishwasher, you’re video chatting with him as he’s driving to his place after landing. “Come on, we’re always hanging out at your place, this time I want you to come over.”
“Is Jay still in Ilsan?” You ask, you remember him telling you a few days ago that Jay’s at his grandparents’ place with his mom. “Yeah, they won’t be back until Friday.”
You take off your gloves and hang them by your sink before leaning your hand on your hip. “Namjoon, this is not a good idea.”
“Come on, please? You haven’t seen my place yet and—“ The call suddenly lags and the screen shows that the call is reconnecting, it seems to be that you’re on hold and he has another call, in the mean time you wash your hands and take the apron off before plopping down onto your bed until he connects again. “Sorry, I had to take this call.” This time his phone is in his hands as he seems to be reading something on his phone. “Are you okay?” You ask.
“Yeah, it’s an order that should be delivered to my place tonight.” He finally hangs his phone on his dashboard. “So what do you say? Should I come pick you up?”
“You don’t have to, I’ll take my car.”
“So you’re coming?” His pearly whites show in a smile wider than ever and you roll your eyes. “Alright.”
“I’ll be waiting for you, be quick okay? I’m going to order dinner.” He makes a turn, his eyes barely looking on the road as he’s trying to take quick glances of you.
“I’ll get ready right away, see you then.” You smile and wave your hands, he  waves back and blows you a kiss before hanging up.
You get up on your feet and rush to get ready, a pair of comfy jeans and an oversized button up with a pair of converse.
Namjoon on the other hand, gets home and locks the door before taking a quick glance around his  house, he starts picking up Jay’s scattered toys and putting them away into his son’s bedroom, he puts his carry on in his bedroom and gets in the shower, making sure he’s quick before you get here.
His door bell rings while he’s wrapping the towel around his  waist, he knows it’s not you because your house is a little far from his place, so he rushes to the door and opens the security cameras, he remembers  the package that was supposed to be delivered, but why is it here so early?
He opens the door and grabs the big package from the woman’s hands and puts it down. “Where do I sign?”
“Mister Kim.” She takes a single step closer and he automatically takes a step back as he feels uncomfortable and a little terrified, she lifts her hand to graze it onto his shoulder and chest as she takes another step closer, until she’s practically inside the house.
Of course it’s you who shows up at the right  time, the elevator doors opens and you take a walk down the aisle and turn to make your way to his apartment door, but what’s happening  in front you doesn’t need further explanation.
You made the effort to get him a passenger airplane Lego to put up together with him and at that second it was totally not worth the effort.
It hurts inside, and not because you’re jealous or anything, that’s way far behind you.
It hurts that you let yourself get o this place, you never got into a relationship because you know men can be heartless and mean, and now this happens right before your eyes and it physically hurts that you can’t do anything about it, you’re not the one to blame him because practically you two aren’t aa thing yet.
You can’t stop him from seeing other people, and he could so easily go hook up with someone and you can’t say anything about it, he’s a free man and he could do anything he wants, you don’t dare to take a step further, you simple put the Legos down and turn to get back into the elevator, you’re not even sure he saw you.
You don’t feel physically well and you feel the need to lean against the elevator walls, you’re hurt and you can’t deny that you’re a little… Embarrassed?
Yeah you’re embarrassed.
You’re embarrassed at the fact that the man who you told your friends was actually a good man despite he was married is apparently seeing other people, but goodness, everyone thought he was head over heels for you, how come did that happen?
Oh my god.
Your palm sits on your face when you realize how tragically stupid you sound, the man is married and you still like him??
The elevator door opens when you finally get to the ground floor and your phone starts ringing nonstop, of course it’s him. You rush to your car and get inside to drive away fast before he can catch onto you, and even when you’re now 5 minutes away from his place, he’s still calling and you finally decide to answer. “Hello?”
“Y/N, where are you?” He worriedly asks and he’s out of breath.
There’s a very clear lump in your  throat when you speak. “Oh hey, I was just going to text you that I wasn’t feeling too well.”
“Y/N, I saw the Legos, what did you see?”
You’re totally caught, and to avoid saying anything that you may regret later, you swallow and laugh awkwardly. “Namjoon, I just need some time alone, it’s okay.” By the way, it’s totally not.
“No, wait, Y/N, it’s not what it looks like.” He speaks and you immediately stop him. “Yeah, you know what, I’m pretty sure it isn’t” Of course you’re not convinced. “But I need to be alone and think some stuff through.”
“Y/N—“
“Namjoon, I need to hang up, I’m driving, okay? I’ll see you around.” You take your phone off of your ear and it takes you a few seconds to press the red button and hang up the call.
Your shoulders sulk in disappointment when you exhale, your eyelids suddenly are getting heavier by the second, you need to lay down.
Your drive home took some time, when you finally get there and lock the door, you make your way to your bed and finally lay down with your clothes still on.
It hurts a little the fact that it’s been a while since you’ve spent a Friday night on your own, not that it’s specifically Namjoon whose been hanging out with you, but it was either you working, or you having plans with your friends, but tonight, your friends had their own plans.
You end up falling asleep way too early that night with your jeans on.
Utter shit is what Namjoon wakes up feeling like, he’s sweating and his head is pounding with a headache that he never experienced before.
Yes you’re hurt, but he thinks that you should’ve listened and that you’re being unfair to him.
This is the last thing he thinks of, he’s confused and wondering since when did the mail arrive out of schedule? This woman that delivered it wasn’t even in a certain uniform or anything.
Namjoon opens his mail and bank receipts to see  that the order was made over a month ago, but he wasn’t sent a mail that the package was delivered even when he just got it.
Something smells fishy and he can’t put a finger on it.
“Bingo.”
The CCTV finally falls in his wife’s hands, she even cropped and edited the video to get the desired part on tape.
Namjoon’s lawyer wanted concrete evidence? He got it.
-
“What do you want for your birthday?” You take a sip from  your wine, you and Hoseok were spending the afternoon at Jungkook’s place.
“You don’t have to get me anything.” The younger waves his hand shyly, “I just want us to celebrate it together, we could go party somewhere.”
“But we have to get you an actual gift.” Hoseok is way too focused onto the gaming console that Jungkook has. “We’re going to get you something anyway, you would make it a little easier if you actually said what you want.”
“Do you want handmade coupons like last year?” You giggle.
You two came up with this stupid idea, when you had no idea what to get him for his birthday, he asked you to do his dishes or cook him something or even do his laundry, so you handmade coupons that he could use whenever he wants throughout the year that had several chores written on them.
“This year I’m turning 27, I want 27 different coupons.” He asks and you rolls your  eyes. “Absolutely not, you’re only getting ten.”
Hoseok finally puts down the gaming console and crosses his legs. “We’ll party tomorrow in the club, and we can have dinner on Saturday.”
“You have a birthday weekend you brat, when it was my birthday all I got from you was a pack of condoms that I still have till this day and a happy meal.” You hit his shoulder, he rubs it and pouts. “You said you liked it.”
“Yeah, I lied.”
“I’ll tell everyone on the group chat.” Hoseok grabs out his phone, Jungkook turns towards you and asks. “Can Namjoon come?”
Right when you’re about to open your mouth, Hoseok  answers. “No.”
You were going to give Jungkook the same answer, but Hoseok didn’t want Namjoon to come just because he can’t be seen in public with someone when he’s going through a divorce.
“Why?” Jungkook’s doe eyes stare at you two in confusion as Hoseok explains  to him why he can’t come. “It’s going to be alright.” Jungkook’s arm wraps around you.
“I wonder if Seokjin can come too, how is he feeling?” Hoseok changes the topic and Jungkook looks at him in confusion again. “What happened?”
“He was tested positive for covid.” You nod your head. “But he’s fine now.”
They  still don’t know what you saw a week ago, and of course they can’t know.
The next day you finally get to the club, strobe lights on and off around the place, the speakers bursting out loud music that you feel pounding inside your eardrums, it’s the end of the summer so it was really crowded, the bar stools completely full and you could barely walk inside.
You roll your eyes when you see Jungkook in a party hat on his face and a pair of shades and a birthday whistle in between his lips. “There’s the birthday boy.” You wrap your arms around him and kiss him on the cheek, he hugs you back and lifts you up. “You look incredible.”
He’s right, you were in a short green velvety dress that had spaghetti straps and a slit down the thigh. You matched it with a pair of high heels. “I know, so do you.”
Jimin hugs you right after and pulls you the chair next to him to be seated right between him and Seokjin. You spend the first few minutes catching up even when you barely can hear each other from the loud music.
“Did you tell Hoseok about what happened in the ER?” Seokjin asks, Hoseok’s head snaps fast towards you two and leans in. “What happened?”
“Namjoon’s wife came in for a medical report.”
“And did you give it to them?”
“I have a copy of it on my phone if you want to.” You take your phone out from your purse before turning to Seokjin. “But I already told Hoseok that I don’t want to be involved in this case anymore.”
“What do you mean?” Seokjin asks, while Hoseok grabs your phone from your hand to read the report. “It’s his divorce and his private life, It’s really consuming my mental wellness to just think about it.”
He understandably nods. “You’re right, that’s what I wanted to tell you from the very beginning.”
“You did a great job.” Hoseok gives you your phone back. “Did they read it?”
“Of course not, I had to lie and tell them that the court only takes closed reports.” A proud smile sits on Hoseok’s face. “Typical Y/N behavior.”
“Shut up.” You elbow him before getting up and dragging him and Seokjin to the dance floor with your drinks in your hands.
Time passed by so quick that night, you were having so much fun, and a bunch of drinks later, you and your friends are still on the dance floor and you feel yourself starting to shut down, you tap their shoulders and shout for them to hear. “I need to sit.” And they carelessly nod, you make your way to one of the bar stools and ask the bartender for a bottle of a water before looking back at the dance floor, giggling at your friends who were dancing all over Jungkook.
“Hey.” You hear a deep sound coming from behind you and you turn your head, a tall charming man leaning onto the bar with a drink in his hand, his dark hair up in a man bun and a grin sits on his plump red lips. “I’m Jaewook.”
Your eyes drift down to his hands as if your whole experience with Namjoon taught you a lesson the hard way. Your eyes are abruptly searching through his fingers for a ring which makes him follow your eye sight, you finally ask. “Are you married?”
“Excuse me?”
You don’t even blink nor repeat your question, you suddenly grow shameless and you’re not going to elaborate or take your question back, your eyebrow rises up as you maintain eye contact with him before he stutters. “N-no? I’m not.”
“I’m Y/N.” You reach your hand out to shake his, he shakes back your hand and takes a sip from his drink. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“No thanks, I’m done for tonight.” You cross your legs, you feel his eyes pierce through your entire body, his eyes are examining you head to toe, settling a little on your ass that’s sat on the stool.
You can’t not admit the man was attractive, and at this time and with your state of mind, you won’t mind flirting with him or even being flirted with, so you turn your face towards him and lean your elbow onto the bar. “Do you usually buy every girl you see a drink?”
He takes a step closer, his shoulder pressed against yours and leans closer towards your ear so you can hear him well. “Only pretty ones like you.”
You don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the fact that the last time you had sex was weeks ago, but your body is reacting upon his touch and you shiver at his breath against your ear shell.
“Are you here with someone?”
“Just my friends.” You shrug, he nods and leans in again to ask. “So no boyfriend huh?”
It takes you a second to answer, a dry lump sits in your throat and you force yourself to swallow it and shake your head. “Nope, not at all.”
His lips twitch into a tiny grin before he brushes his fingers against your shoulder, “You wanna go dance?”
You lower your head to stare at his fingers before looking up into his eyes before you smirk. “Sure.”
He puts his drink down and offers you his hand, you take it and head to the dance floor with him, his hands sit onto your hips and yours are wrapped around his neck, both your bodies swaying together.
Biology works and as a man it’s a quite normal reaction for him to feel a little aroused that a pretty girl like you is alone and drunk, you agreed to dance with him, maybe you would agree going home with him?
His face sits in the crook of your neck and he prints the wettest most softest kiss ever almost as if he’s testing waters to see if you’d be okay with more than just dancing or not.
But your drunk and hazy mind can’t comprehend anything, you giggle and lean your head back. “Namjoon stop.”
Standing in front of you, the tall handsome man’s name is long forgotten and you realize you’re fucked when the name that escapes your lips is his name.
It hits you and it hits you harder than ever, that you’re actually pretty angry at him, and you’re even more upset at the fact that he didn’t try to call you nor contact you in any way.
You press hard onto your teeth and just wish that you actually helped his soon to be ex spouse with the fake medical report, Namjoon doesn’t deserve shit.
“Namjoon?”
You totally forgot the man standing in front of you.
Your nausea is creeping onto you and you pull back with your hand hovering over your stomach. “I’m sorry, I need to go.”
You brush your shoulder against his as you walk past him to make your way towards your table, Seokjin is already sitting there drinking water. “Are you okay?”
You’re swallowing repeatedly trying to hold back from throwing up, you remember the last time this happened and it scarred you a little. But still you nod your head. “Yeah, I’m alright.”
The rest of the guys get seated and they bring out a bottle of champagne to pop and finally celebrate Jungkook’s birthday.
Yoongi lifts his glass up and starts making a toast but you’re not listening.
Your mind is somewhere else and you can’t really ignore the fact that you’re very bitter at Namjoon, he never even tried to apologize, the only thing this could mean is that you really mean nothing to him.
You scoff a little on the inside, once a cheater always a cheater, right?
He cheated on his own wife, the mother of his child with you, he could so easily go hook up with someone else and give them the same story and he won’t even be half sorry.
You take your phone out and hide it under the table before you send him a text.
“???”
Less than a minute after he reads the message before replying.
“You wanna talk?”
“To Jungkook!” Yoongi speaks and that’s the only thing you hear before clinking your glasses together. “To Jungkook.”
You take a sip from your champagne and get up onto your feet. “I need to use the bathroom, I’ll be right back.”
You make your way outside the club and unlock your phone to call Namjoon, two rings after he answers. “Hello?”
“Listen Namjoon, if you think I texted you just because I wanted to talk things through then you’re wrong, you have to know that I deserve—“
Of course your slurred speech makes it hard for him to understand and he could so easily tell that you’re drink, since the music behind you is loud enough too, he knows you’re out. “Y/N? Are you drunk?”
You squint your eyes and your hand sits on your hip before you bite at him. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“Of course it does.” He even has the audacity to argue with the coldest tone ever. “Where are you?”
“You don’t have to know.” You feel yourself barely able to stand up, the alcohol now affecting you harder than before. “You know what, I’ll see you later.”
This jerk even hangs up, your jaw falls as you stare onto your phone screen in denial, you’re fuming on the inside and you wish you could just reach your fist through the phone and punch him to ease the fire building inside you.
-
“Are you sure you can make it upstairs on your own?” Seokjin asks when he drops you in front of your building, you’re about to open your mouth for an answer but Seokjin looks behind you and smiles. “I know you’re in safe hands now, how are you?”
“I’m doing good, how are you?”
Of course it’s Namjoon, you roll your eyes and don’t even turn towards him, his hand sits on your lower back as he handshakes Seokjin. “I heard you tested positive, how are you feeling now?”
The two spend a couple minutes catching up together, of course none of your friends know about what happened with him, you didn’t want to tell them just to avoid the embarrassment, and at this exact moment when they catch up and chat specifically, you’re really glad you didn’t tell them.
“Drive safe.” You force a smile to Seokjin before he finally gets into his car and drives away, you make your way inside the building totally ignoring the fact that Namjoon is shadowing you, his hands fighting the urge to touch you, and his entire body is on standby worried that you may stumble or fall or anything.
You click the button of the elevator and cross your arms, awkward silence and tension building between the two of you , your eyelids and tongue feel heavy and you’re having a headache so of course you’re not going to argue with him.
Just treat him as if he doesn’t exist, you think.
He’s completely sober though and he’s sinking in his own pond of thoughts, wondering where to start from? How to explain himself? How should he even apologize? He knows he looks like utter trash to you now and he’s not in a good place in front of you, but he’s innocent.
The elevator door closes on the two of you and you cross your arms as you’re standing in the middle of the elevator, your eyes focused on the numbers of floors increasing every 5 seconds.
Your apartment is in the 16th floor so you know your trip is going to take some time.
He leans against the elevator walls, his eyes locked onto you from behind, his palms and back are getting sweaty even when it wasn’t a hot night, he’s nervous and he doesn’t recall the last time his fight or flight worked this hard.
The elevator rings when it stops on the desired floor and you walk out of it, your heels being the only sound heard through the aisle, you reach to your door to click onto the password and unlock it, you walk inside and he follows you in.
You lift one leg up to try and take off your heels before you stumble and lose your gait, him being on standby benefits you when he supports you with his own body, his hands sitting onto your forearms. “You’re okay, let me help you.”
You want to push him back so bad but you really can’t spare the effort to take off your heals, and if you were alone you would’ve probably slept in them. He gets down on one knee and helps you with the pair, of course you don’t bother thanking him or anything, you just make your way inside to your bedroom and put your phone and purse down.
“Namjoon—“ You start before he presses his lips against yours for one single kiss, he leans his forehead against yours with his hands hovering over your hips. “Y/N, you’re tired and drunk, please let me take care of you, and we’ll talk in the morning, okay?”
You have so many things to say but you physically can’t, your eyelids are shutting down and you feel yourself near falling asleep, you don’t remember when was the last time you were this drunk, tonight you went way overboard.
He stands behind you and his shaky hands unzip your dress before he pulls you into the bathroom, he slides your dress off of you and assists you to get in the shower, he helps you shampoo your hair and bathes you before wrapping your bathrobe around your body, his top a little wet from the water splashing onto him.
You  sit on the covered toilet before he hands you your toothbrush, you groan because you barely have the power to be seated, and he wants you to brush your teeth?
He grabs the hair dryer and dries your hair before helping you rinse your teeth and go to bed. “There you go.” He lifts the blanket for you to lay down and you do right after taking off your bathrobe, he tucks you in bed and turns off the lights, before walking to the other side and laying beside you.
-
The next morning you wake up surprisingly without a headache, you had your fair share the night before and you went to the bathroom a few times during the night, so the alcohol is probably out of your system.
You feel cold so you cuddle onto the blanket and look at the air conditioning remote to see it turned off, the weather is getting colder indeed, but you look under the blanket to find out that you’re completely naked. Your eyes almost fall from their sockets, did you come home with anyone last night?
You look over at the empty space behind you, it seems like someone slept next to you but you don’t remember who it was, were you really that drunk?
You hear your coffee machine buzzing from the kitchen which makes you flinch in bed, someone is actually with you and you’re starting to get a little scared, especially when the footsteps are getting closer to your bedroom.
You’re a little relieved but a little angry when you realize it’s Namjoon holding your favorite mug filled with coffee and walking into your bedroom. “Good morning.” His stupid dimple again, ugh.
“Yeah.” Your hand moves to your head to scratch it before you rub your eyes, and suddenly you remember everything that happened last night, well practically nothing happened, but you still remember some bits here and there. “Good morning.” You clear your throat as you sit up, holding the blanket closer to your chest, he hands you the cup of coffee and a couple pills of pain killer. “Thank you.”
You don’t need the painkillers so you put them onto the night stand and take a few sips from the coffee in order for your brain to start functioning. “How are you feeling?”
“Why are you here?” You ask calmly, your eyes not bothering to look up at him. He laughs quietly before sitting onto the edge of the bed and answers. “I know you’re mad and upset, but believe me, what you saw wasn’t true.”
“Oh so was I seeing things?” You take another sip from your coffee. “Or was I hallucinating that you were with someone else right by your door with only a towel on?”
“Y/N—“
“You know what.” You put your mug down before holding your hands together. “I’m so glad this happened, and the more I think about it, it’s fine, I just didn’t know that we were allowed to hook up with other people, it’s a good thing I found out so I don’t have to be careful, that’s all.”
The thought itself disturbs Namjoon, not the fact that you don’t believe him, but at the fact that you were implying that you can hook up with other people, he’s a little irritated at the thought of you being touched or kissed by someone other than him.
“After all, it really was just a hookup.” You shrug, he shakes his head in denial before he process a couple words out of his mouth. “It wasn’t true, I have no idea how to prove it to you but it is not true.”
You nod your head totally not convinced before grabbing your mug again and taking a few sips from it. “Can you get me something to wear?”
He rises up on his feet and opens your closet to grab you out a pair of shorts and a top. “You’re being unfair to me.”
“Okay.” You keep drinking your coffee, totally unbothered by his excuses, and it seems like he’s getting angrier by the second before he turns to you. “If I wanted to be with someone else I would’ve told you.”
“Sure.”
“And you think I would’ve messed with someone else right by the door? Where everyone can see me?” He shuts the closet, your clothes still sitting in his hand. “Nope.” You’re slowly driving him out of his mind, and it shocks you the amount of self control this man has. Even when your behavior was irritating him, he still contained himself.
“You won’t even listen when I tried to explain myself, and that was totally unfair.” He walks closer, you reach your hand out to grab your clothes, but he argues again. “I will prove it, I actually thought you trusted me, I thought we had something.”
You rub your eyes in frustration when he won’t actually hand you the clothes, “You know what, let’s just imagine if the whole thing happened with me, what would you do?”
He crosses his arms before answering. “I would actually listen before assuming anything, especially when I know that you have people around you trying to set you up like people are doing to me.”
He’s partially right, it could be someone trying to set him up and screw up his divorce.
You’re an inch away from being actually convinced, before you remember that the man once pretended to be single and never mentioned his marriage, and again you’re back to point zero.
You forgive him for doing it but you can’t forget it at all, of course you’re not going to bring it up because you agreed to hook up with him even after you knew he was involved in a relationship.
“You don’t have to prove anything to me.” You shrug your shoulders, “You can do anything you want to, you’re a free man and I can’t be in the way.”
He sighs and sits down on the edge of the bed and he whispers. “I want to be with you.”
You look into his eyes and you see regret and disappointment all over his face, similar to the time you saw him in Ilsan right after you found out about his marriage. “I don’t think I’m worthy, but I’m selfish enough to actually want you. I lied to you once and I can’t forgive myself, you were there for me every day for the past few months and it makes me feel guilty for doing you wrong so bad.”
You don’t let your emotions control you, your brain is much of a hard worker than your heart is, so you shrug again and look down. “I don’t know Namjoon, you have to give me some time, and we have to know where your divorce is going, so many things happened and I don’t think you know.”
His face changes and his eyebrows form a knot between them, “What happened?”
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U.S. President Joe Biden on Tuesday will honor Emmett Till, the Black teenager whose 1955 killing helped galvanize the Civil Rights movement, and his mother with a national monument across two states.
Till, 14 and visiting from Chicago, was beaten, shot and mutilated in Money, Mississippi, on Aug. 28, 1955, four days after a 21-year-old white woman accused him of whistling at her. His body was dumped in a river.
The violent killing put a spotlight on the U.S. civil rights cause after his mother, Mamie Till-Bradley, held an open-casket funeral and a photo of her son's badly disfigured body appeared in Black media.
The national monument designation across 5.7 acres (2.3 hectares) and three sites marks a forceful new effort by the President to memorialize the country's bloody racial history even as Republicans in some states push limits on how that past is taught.
"America is changing, America is making progress," said the Rev. Wheeler Parker Jr., 84, a cousin of Till's who was with the boy on the night he was abducted at gunpoint from the relatives' house they were staying at in Mississippi.
"I've seen a lot of changes over the years and I try to tell young people that they happen, but they happen very slow," Parker said on Monday in a telephone interview as he traveled from Chicago to Washington to attend the signing ceremony at the White House as one of approximately 60 guests.
Tuesday marks the 82nd anniversary of Till's birth in 1941. One of the monument sites is the Roberts Temple Church of God in Christ in Chicago, where Till's funeral took place.
The other selected sites are in Mississippi: Graball Landing, close to where Till's body is believed to be have been recovered; and Tallahatchie County Second District Courthouse, where two white men who later confessed to Till's killing were acquitted by an all-white jury.
Signs erected at Graball Landing since 2008 to commemorate Till's killing have been repeatedly defaced by gunfire.
Now that site and the others will be considered federal property, receiving about $180,000 a year in funding from the National Park Service. Any future vandalism would be investigated by federal law enforcement rather than local police, according to Patrick Weems, executive director of the Emmett Till Interpretive Center in Sumner, Mississippi.
Other such monuments include the Grand Canyon, Statue of Liberty and the laboratory of inventor Thomas Edison.
Biden, an 80-year-old Democrat, will likely need strong support from Black voters to secure a second term in the 2024 presidential election.
He screened a film recounting the lynching, "Till," at the White House in February. Last March, he signed into law a bipartisan bill named for Till that for the first time made lynching a federal hate crime.
A Republican field led by former President Donald Trump has made conservative views on race and other contentious issues of history a part of their platform, including banning books and fighting efforts to teach school children accounts of the country's past that they regard as ideologically inflected or unpatriotic.
"This is an amazing, teachable moment to talk about the importance of this story as an American story that everybody can share in now, particularly at a time when people are trying to rewrite history," said Christopher Benson, president of the non-profit organization the Emmett Till & Mamie Till-Mobley Institute in Summit, Illinois.
“We have a memorial now that is not erasable. It can't be banned and it can't be censored, and we think that's a very important thing.”
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strawburry01 · 22 days
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Northern Attitude
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Summary: The team goes out to a small Montana town facing a random string of murders pointing to a new cult forming in the woods around town. Only once they get there does Hotch realize he recognizes the assistant chief for the town force- someone from his university days.
Word Count: 3k
No smut just angsty, maybe not entirely canon compliant but nothing crazy.
Authors Note: Let me know if folks want a part 2 (you may get one anyway, but my brain hasn't decided yet), or any one offs from Hotch and the characters time in uni. I have ideas...
It was another cold morning in your room. You refused to go to bed if it wasn’t comfortably cocooned in at least three blankets, but it did mean getting out of bed in the morning was particularly dreadful. You groan as you stretch your back hearing it pop as you twist. Eventually, you push yourself out of your warm pile of blankets and pillows to take a shower to wake up and start the day.
You worked as an assistant chief in your small Montana town. Things were slow for the most part. Nobody beyond the average population, except for the summers when the tourists came in for hiking and camping, but even then, it was never too much. A few rambunctious teens some nights, the occasional robbery of the convenience store downtown, a random carjacking every other month, but this had all come to a screeching halt when a random string of murders popped up over the last few weeks. Unfortunately, based on the scenes and your analysis, it seemed cult related, bringing a lot more attention, specifically from the government, to your once quaint town. 
Shuffling back to your room after your shower you throw on your average attire, black slacks, blue button up, and boots. Being a woman in a small town police force wasn’t easy, but you’d done your time. It only took a few cases before the men started realizing you meant business, and often would run the opposite direction in the office whenever they saw you walking in with a bad mood knowing you would make their life a living hell. Graduating from university with both electrical engineering and criminology made you stand out when you entered the workforce all those years ago, but the quiet side of you still yearned for silence and a work life balance, which is something you did get all the way out here. Well, at least before this all. You’d been working overtime every night into the late hours trying to figure out what you were dealing with. All you had was your bed every couple hours at night before your brain would wake you up again with a flood of new theories and ideas. You’d be happy when this was over, for all the reasons.
You jump into your truck and quickly blow onto your mug of coffee to cool it down as you head out to the latest scene. You swear out loud as you nearly spill it onto your lap as you take a turn too sharp. You crank the volume of your radio up to help wake you up and try to put you in a good mindset. You never tried to come to work in a bad mood, in fact you tried to come in on the cusp of being annoyingly positive and cautiously optimistic. You knew this line of work was easy to get sucked down into and spiral, you’d seen it before, hell you lived it before when you were fresh out of university. It’s what got you out working in a big city, or for a bigger federal office. 
You pull into the parking lot alongside the other police vehicles that had already shown up for the day. This latest murder scene was unfortunately in an empty field behind an abandoned high school. Definitely not creepy at all, you thought to yourself as you got out and eyed the several busted windows on the second floor. You grab your backpack and mug as you make your way to the tent set up with the team’s temporary office with laptops and files from the case.
“Morning boys,” you hum as you step underneath the tent, observing the open screens. You get a few ‘good mornings’ back. Some of the guys had been working since the scene was called in and you could tell. Dammit you should have brought coffee or doughnuts for them.
“Cheers boss”, one of the officers, Carter, sighs to you as he walks into the tent, clinking his coffee with yours. Carter had always been one of your favorites, he was young, wide-eyed, but still meant business. He’d grown up in the area so he knew all the folks like they were family. You let out a small smirk as you sip your coffee, starting to map out the plan for today.
You’d have to scour the entire field. And the entire school. You didn’t want a single potential lead or clue or mistake from them to be lost. The team would hate it but it needed to be done.
“Alright team find a friend and meet back here in ten minutes. You’re going to be split between the school and the field and I need all of it thoroughly searched. Heard?” you said, leaning on the table facing the team you had. They all nodded or chirped back a complaint which you laughed at, “you got ten minutes to warm up”.
You leaned back on the front of your truck as you took out a cigarette and placed it between your lips. Lighting it up you stared out into the field. Dappled with yellows and oranges, you can’t even see the ground through the wheat and piles of ancient dirt. Why here? Any other day this would be beautiful, but knowing a murder happened right here made it such a tragic scene. There’s a crackle of gravel from an incoming car behind you. Probably the chief coming in, albeit uncharacteristically early since he usually stayed in the office until things got really hairy. You sighed as you let a cloud of smoke out of your lips, staring up at the sun. Your phone buzzes against your hip and you lazily slide it out before checking it. 
It’s a text from the chief. “Federal Bureau coming in today. Play nice.”. Your stomach flips. FBI? Well shit. Also how rude of him not to text you any earlier than right now. “Who?”, you texted back. You see the cursed three dots pop up and down a few times before the text actually sends. “BAU”. You nearly drop your cigarette out of your mouth at your jaw dropping. 
As if on some otherworldly cursed cue.
“Y/n?” a terribly familiar voice says from behind you. You take a sharp inhale, before taking out your cigarette and turning your head, trying to look charming as hell.
“Hello dear Aaron,” you say with a smile on your face, seeing the man who’d been stuck in your thoughts since the day he left your side. 
It’s his eyes that never changed. They still scrunch up as he smiles at you.
“I didn’t know this was your town,” he said as he moved beside you. You look up at him, placing your cigarette back between your lips and shrugging with a smirk plastered on the side of your face. You catch his eyes quickly flickering over you, just as you look over him. He used to be skinny, studious, almost a nerd, but the man that stood in front of you now was built, stern, and serious. 
“I got told a few seconds ago that you’d be here at all. Chief keeps me on my toes,” you remarked, internally thinking about how you actually wanted to wring his neck for not telling you sooner. 
When you woke up this morning you did not- in a thousand years-  expect Aaron Hotchner to show up at your work. At your crime scene. It was a tumultuous mix of excitement, nerves, intrigue, and still a bit of anger. You hadn’t seen him in years, let alone reached out. Ever since ending on a sour note you never tried, mostly because you knew he wouldn’t respond- not out of spite but just because he was so busy and focused on work. It was admirable, but also so annoying.
“You smoke now?” he asked, snapping you out of your mental musings. He was eyeing disapprovingly the cigarette still hanging in the corner of your mouth. 
“You wear contacts now?” you retorted, raising an eyebrow. He sharply laughed and looked back to his team as they approached.
“Have for a while” he said, turning back to you.
“Haven’t known for a while” you snipped before throwing your cigarette butt onto the ground and smashing it out with your heel to free yourself to meet his team. “We’ll talk later Aaron” you said with a nod which he nodded back to, ending this conversation, knowing more pressing things existed than-
your-
university-
situationship- 
showing up again in your life. 
Aaron’s team pops up behind him and brings you back to focus. Dammit there was a murder on your watch and you could only think of this fucking man. Grow up, you swore in your head as you forced a customer service smile onto your face. 
“Team this is y/n l/n, a friend from university,” he said as he gestured to you. He couldn’t make eye contact when he called you just a friend. You noticed two of the men on the team elbowed each other, no doubt in shock their boss actually had friends outside of work at some point in his life. 
Aaron introduced you to his team and you tried to run through their names in your head as you shook their hands. You were terrible with names. Agent Reid was the twiggy one who looked perpetually deep in thought, Agent Morgan was the one with the tight black shirt who who had an air of confidence about him, Agent Jareau was the sweet blonde who acted like the unofficial mother of the group, and Rossi who was the tired old dad of the group. I’m sure Aaron loved being bossed around by him, you thought to yourself as you shook his hand. He seemed nice, but Aaron had never been one to not be the one in charge- the little control freak. 
You brought them to your tent to introduce them to your folks, trying to get everyone on the same page with daylight burning. Later than expected due to the guests everyone was ready to actually start looking through the field and school. You felt Aaron’s eyes on you as you told everyone to pair off, but you nabbed Carter before he could object. 
The search of both areas wasn’t as successful as you had hoped. The school had some ominous latin scribbled onto the walls in red, which had been determined to be blood on the scene, although it wasn’t the latest victims. Reid had somehow been able to translate the latin- you could see in an instant why they kept him around.
“So what’s the deal with you and the FBI guy?” Carter asks when you get to the smack dab middle of the field. Your neck hurts from craning over the ground, trying to not let a speck of earth go unseen. 
“What do you mean?” you ask back, not looking up as you continue scanning the ground.
“I’ve never seen you flustered,” he quips as he pauses, “you actually like-I don’t know it was just weird” he said and half heartedly shrugged as he looked back at the group that had begun to reform by the tent. 
“It’s complicated,” you said, knowing that the young adult in him would eat the drama up. Sure enough, he perked up.
“Yeah? What is it? You got an ex?” he said, nudging you.
But that was the problem. He wasn’t an ex. He wasn’t really an anything. He was a friend, sure, but friends also didn’t make out in the corners of parties as much as you two had. And friends didn’t stay up until sunrise testing each other for the upcoming exams every single finals week. And friends didn’t invite each other to spend weekends at their family vacation cabin alone. 
“No, no, no, just-” you tried to explain to no avail, not even knowing how to justify this to yourself, “okay maybe,”. Carter let out a low whistle.
“Hey if my ex showed up to work I’d be flipping the fuck out, you’re handling this really well,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. You chuckle at the kids joke.
“Sometimes it’s just nicer to see a familiar face, you’ll get it when you’re older,” you said, knowing hated when you pulled the you’ll understand when you’re older card. He rolled his eyes and groaned. 
Once the sun started setting you made your way back to the huddle that was forming of everything theorizing and laying out the evidence. Tomorrow would be busy in the office working to get everything categorized and bagged. You leaned up against your truck again, just like you did this morning, and pulled out another cigarette, flicking the lighter onto the end. You waved your team over and told them to head home for the night. You knew a lot of them had families at home, and you tried to be respectful of it all, even if you didn’t have your own. Some of the security officers watching the spot for the night stayed and mingled with the BAU team a ways away from you, and you settled your sights on the pink hue of the clouds as the sun lowered.
A familiar body moved next to you. You didn’t have to turn to know it was Aaron. You blew a cloud of smoke out the other side of your lips and stayed quiet, waiting for him to start. He had his hands jammed in his coat pockets, his shoulder grazing against yours. People used to laugh at the height difference back in university, and it had only gotten worse it seemed, or at least Aaron walked around with much more presence these days. You were leaning up against the front grate of your truck and felt Aaron slowly move his arm behind you, holding onto the grate on the other side of your hip. Feeling his arm behind you felt so familiar. 
“There’s Latin at the other scenes too,” he said, facing straight ahead into the sun.
“Shit,” you said as you slowly nodded, realizing that the scribbles would not just be nothing. There was a moment of silence before he broke it again.
“Do you hate me?” he asked, glancing down for a second, but long enough for you to meet eyes before you looked away.
“You know I could never hate you,” you said begrudgingly, knowing it was the truth. His arm got closer to your back at that and you leaned further onto it, “it’s really annoying honestly” you halfheartedly laughed. You heard him laugh under his breath. You swallowed your pride and leaned in, resting your head on the side of his torso, letting out another cloud to try and soothe your nerves. 
“It’s nice out here,” he said, looking out at the sunset still which had only gotten deeper pink and orange. 
“ ‘S quiet,” you agreed, “I don’t know how you do it in the big leagues,”. 
“You know you could’ve too,” he said, looking down. You stayed staring straight ahead.
“I’m not doing this argument again Aaron,” you said curtly, as you eyed him back. He shrugged and turned away again. 
“You know you could have that’s all,”. 
“You ever think I’m okay with it out here? You ever think I don’t need to kill myself over every case with the fate of the world hanging on it?” you said, raising your voice a little.
“I’m just saying you were one of the best and you could do a lot in the bureau,” he said back, “in the BAU,” he tested. You let out an angry air of smoke from your cigarette.
“Dammit Aaron don’t do this again,” you said, cutting him off before he can say anything else. You throw your cigarette onto the gravel and kick some rocks over the smoldering residue, “I’m happy here, can’t you just be okay with that?”. Aaron watched you and sighed and shifted in his spot, taking the second to move his hand from the car to your waist. 
“I’m sorry Y/N,” he said, and he meant it. You sighed.
“I’m not going to be able to convince you to stay huh?” you asked, trying to joke, but inside you really did mean it earnestly. His thumb rubbed your side. It had been a while since you felt like this.
“I don’t think you’re able to,” he responded, sadness tinging his voice. The two of you stood, leaning into each other watching the sun finally dip behind the hills in the distance.
A few yards away Morgan stood on the phone, peeking around a car before ducking back. Garcia was not going to believe this shit.
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natureismynature · 7 months
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More rambles about Jaiden and Foolish because they actually make me so fucking emotional.
One thing I need people to know is that qFoolish is selfish. He's power-hungry. He's an ASSHOLE. He treats this whole thing as a fun game, he WILL throw anyone that isn't his family under the bus if he thinks it would benefit him. He cares, he considers all the Islanders his friends, he values their opinions, and he respects them, but he also sees them as pieces in a game. I wouldn't say he sees them as dispensable pawns, but he does like playing around with them. He just would not mind fucking them over for his own benefit.
And at first, he was like that with Jaiden too. When he lied to her to see what she'll do. When he told her his secret to see if she'll spill. But as time went by, maybe it was when she showed him Bobby Fields, maybe it was when she swore her silence to him, maybe it was when she told him the truth behind her disappearance. Somewhere along those lines, she became part of his family.
And further along those lines, she became his only family.
He lost Vegetta first. Leo second. And his relationship with Roier has been getting worse by the day.
Suddenly, he doesn't want to fuck her over. Suddenly, she's the only person he doesn't ever want to cross. Suddenly, she's the one he first thinks of when he has to spill his secrets.
His literal first thought when he got promoted was "I'm definitely gonna tell Jaiden." before he even asked if he should keep this a secret. Because that's just what they do now, they tell each other EVERYTHING about themselves.
Everything she knows, he knows. And everything he knows, she knows.
And Jaiden. Jaiden who values Foolish so much because he was there for her when she felt alone and never left since. Who is not fond of the Federation past Cucurucho. Who knows the fucked up shit the Federation is doing behind the white walls and the smiles.
And yet she's so. Fucking. Supportive. Of everything he does. Even if it was becoming a cop for the Feds. Even if it was him trying to climb the ladder of hierarchy.
Because she knows him. She understands why he's doing what he's doing.
It's nothing noble. It's nothing heroic. He just wants to be chaotic. He just wants to have fun. And she's all for it.
Foolish wants to work for all sides while Jaiden wants to work for no sides, but they are on each other's side. They will always be on each other's sides
They are both fucked up. They are two sides of the same coin. They are best friends. They are family.
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billybob598 · 9 months
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No Idea Who They're Dealing With (Trinity Rodman x Reader)
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Ummm, it's like 1am and I just banged out like 2k words?!?!? This was requested by a lovely anon (hope this is kinda what you wanted). I'm gonna go have a nighttime snack real quick so, byeeee. As always, any feedback good or bad welcome. Enjoy!
Word Count: 2k (actually it's like 1987 but that's basically 2k so fuck it)
You hated Trinity Rodman. With a passion. She was always getting the best of you, no matter how hard you tried she always seemed to be one step ahead. The rivalry between the two of you went back to your U-18 days. You played for Canada during the U-18 World Cup, in that tournament you had really shone, putting yourself at the top of the list for up-and-coming Canadian soccer players. While you had done well, Trinity had done even better. You never played against the USA in that tournament, but she beat you out for the Golden Boot and the Player of the Tournament award. 
The next time your rivalry was rekindled was in the U-20 CONCACAF Championships. Both Canada and the US came top of their groups, respectively. In the semi-finals, the two teams faced off. It was a pretty physical game. Tackles were flying in left and right. Numerous cards were given out. Throughout the match, you and Trinity had been at each other’s throats. It started with just some shoving. Then, it escalated to pulling on each other’s jerseys. The tackles kept getting dirtier and dirtier. It didn’t help that Canada was 2-0 down. At one point, you were both going for the ball, you thought you had definitely beat her to it when you felt a cleat connect with your ankle. You screamed out. Toppling to the ground while clutching your ankle, you knew it was bad. Like, tournament ending bad. With your face buried in the grass, you can hear loud voices, presumably your teammates who had come to defend you. The whistle was being repeatedly blown, but all you could focus on was the immense pain shooting through your leg. 
Trinity was horrified. She hadn’t meant for that to happen. Of course, she was getting frustrated with the physical battle between you. But she really hadn’t meant to hurt you. She had never seen you in so much pain. Your reputation preceded you, everyone knew that you were tough and that if you went down something must be seriously wrong. A number of your teammates came to your aid. They shoved Trinity and got all up in her face. She tuned all of them out, though, preferring to watch the trainers as they started feeling your ankle. When you were on your feet and limping off the field, she wanted to go over and apologize, but one of her teammates dragged her away before she could. 
You had ruptured your Achilles tendon. It took almost six months before you stepped on a soccer pitch again. While Trinity was off becoming a star in the NWSL, you were sitting in physio, fuming. It was mentally and physically exhausting to return to full strength. And when you finally returned you tore it up. At UCLA you established yourself as one of the best players in college soccer. Bev Priestmann was impressed enough to give you a call-up for your first-ever senior national team camp in 2021.
Now, heading into the 2023 SheBelieves Cup you’ve become a regular on the national team. You had played against Trinity a couple of times, but you had tried your best to just ignore her presence altogether. It most certainly confused Trinity. She thought you would be pissed at her and that you would hold a grudge forever. You hadn’t. Actually, it was like Trinity didn’t even exist anymore in your world. Within the Canada camp, there was a lot of things going on. The players, yourself included, were in a dispute with Canada Soccer. Everyone had decided to wear their practice shirts inside out to protest, among other things. Heading into the opening match against the USA, the battle between players and federation was anyone was talking about. Janine and Christine had done an interview with TSN, you hadn’t even spoken publicly about the job action, other than putting the players’ statement on your Instagram. Yet, you were on the receiving end of all the blame coming from Canada Soccer. There had been multiple interviews and statements by Canada Soccer officials and they all stuck to the same narrative, your arrival in the past year or two had changed the mindset within the team. You were the root of this. If it had not been for you, everyone would have been happy still, and the team would not be asking for something that was impossible. You chose to handle this with class, not wanting to stir the pot anymore, you did not respond to those comments. 
The USA had watched all of this happen in complete shock. First of all, the fact that a job action had to be put in motion in the first place. Considering you guys were Olympic champions everyone thought you would have earned a little more respect from your federation. Second, you specifically were enduring most of the public bashing. It was absolutely insane for Canada Soccer to put this all on one player, especially you. This entire fiasco made Trinity’s blood boil. No way they thought they could actually get away with blaming you. When asked by the Canadian team if they would join in making a pre-match protest, they of course agreed.
Soon enough, the two teams were standing in the tunnel, preparing to step out on the pitch. There had been a few hugs given out among the different players. Rapinoe had said some encouraging words to you as she passed by. You didn’t realize how much you needed to hear them until you started to tear up. As the US lines up alongside you, you try your best to not let anyone see the emotion overcoming you. All of a sudden, you feel a hand land on your shoulder. Looking over, you’re surprised to see Trinity Rodman giving you a warm smile.
“Hey, you’re doing a really good job, don’t let them get to you,” Trinity says softly to you. You wipe at your eyes before mumbling out a quick “thanks.” She removes her hand and you immediately miss the contact. Before you can say anything more to her, the refs have started to move forward, with the teams following close behind. The cameras start to click rapidly as Canada’s national team appears wearing the purple “Enough is Enough” shirts. After the anthems, the two teams form a heart around the centre circle. You end up standing beside Trinity. The taller woman’s hand lands on the small of your back, sending shivers up your spine. She notices this and smirks at you. 
That entire game, Canada looks flat. You guys looked like a team that was mentally exhausted, which you were. It was only through pure determination that you were able to put your name on the score sheet. The game finished as a 2-1 US win, it probably should have been more.
When the game ends, you and the rest of the team refuse to do any media and head straight back to the locker rooms. Trinity ends up at the ESPN panel, standing alongside a man she doesn’t recognize and the hosts. It’s only when the hosts introduce the man as the Vice President of Canada Soccer that she realizes what’s going to happen. This was definitely set up by Canada Soccer to continue putting down the players. The hosts ask Trinity a few questions about the match before they address the elephant in the room. For a bit, Trinity thinks that maybe she was wrong. Maybe the vice president wasn’t here to blame the players, maybe he was just here to try to appease the public or something. He wasn’t saying anything too controversial, mostly trying his best to deflect, saying he can’t comment and things like that. For a few minutes, everything is going okay. Until it isn’t.
“Obviously, we only want our women’s teams to thrive. They have shown just how world-class they can be playing against some tough opponents. We just think that some of the demands they’re making are unreasonable. It’s possible that Y/N Y/L/N has gotten some far-reaching goals inside of her teammate's heads. Before, the team was making reasonable demands and we were happy to negotiate with them,” the vice president says with such contempt that Trinity doesn’t know how such an asshole can be elected for anything. 
“Interesting…” ESPN’s host slowly starts to say before Trinity jumps in.
“Or maybe, you guys have just been taking the entire team for push-overs and they, including Y/N, have finally realized their worth. That they are deserving of more than just whatever you have left in the bank account. Also, if you’re going to start publicly bashing Y/N, then you better know that she’s not going to back down without a fight and that she is going to come at you guys with everything she has. You have no fucking idea who you’re dealing with.”
This leaves everyone on the panel in a little bit of shock. Trinity decides that she doesn’t feel like being interviewed anymore. She gives the mic back and then walks off, not having the slightest clue about why she did that. As she gets closer to the US locker room, she stops in her tracks when she hears a voice.
“What the hell did you do that for?” She takes a deep breath before turning around to be met with your beautiful face.
“Uhh, I don’t know,” she stutters out.
“Trinity, you just blew up at a Canada Soccer official and swore on national television. You must know why.” There’s something about how her name sounds coming off your tongue that drives Trinity crazy. 
“Y/N…” she starts as she takes a step towards you. You can feel a blush creeping up your neck as the space between the two of you closes.
“Yeah?” Your voice comes out small and it only encourages Trinity. She takes another step closer, at this point you’re chests are close to touching. Trinity is looking down at you with a smirk that makes your knees weak. It doesn’t help that she’s got probably five inches on you so, you feel incredibly small this close to her.
“I’ve never really hated you, y’know?” Her voice is so smooth, it makes your stomach do flips.
“Oh yeah?” You say not daring to take your eyes off of hers. She starts to lean in slowly. 
“Yeah,” she whispers against your lips before connecting them. Her hands go to your waist, pulling you as close as possible to her. Your fingers find their way into her hair, giving it a light tug. Her lips were like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. They were soft and perfect and moved perfectly against yours. You couldn’t believe what was happening, not too long ago you swore you hated her, but now, she was too good of a kisser to even think about hating her. Soon, you both pull away. She leans her forehead against yours.
“When do you guys leave for the next game?” The American asks quietly.
“I think two days from now,” you reply, “why?”
“Do you want to go on a date with me, say tomorrow?” You can’t help the grin that takes over your face.
“Thought you’d never ask.” You kiss her one last time before entangling your fingers with hers. “I’m not sure you have any idea who you’re dealing with, though,” you joke. Trinity just laughs.
“Trust me, I know exactly who I’m dealing with,” she says with a chuckle. You smile one last time at her before moving to head back to your own locker room. But, she pulls you back and presses a firm kiss on your forehead, then she decides you are free to go. 
When you were named to the World Cup roster, the first person you called was your girlfriend.
“The world has no idea who they’re dealing with, babe.”
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anonymous-dentist · 8 months
Text
I've been thinking about this all day, and I don't think it's fair for people to say that nobody understands q!Cellbit's hatred and distaste for Cucurucho. Because people do! A lot of people do.
Like take:
q!Pac, who was kidnapped and held captive and tortured and experimented on for over a week and who is still so scared of Cucurucho and the Federation that he hasn't been sleeping
q!Mike, whose hatred of the Federation led to him becoming a full-on anarchist set on taking down the Federation and exploding everything in a very dramatic fashion
q!Felps, who is kinda just Felps tbh but when he's in full rp mode he is legit freaked out by Cucurucho's very appearance. Like if you go back and watch the first election debate, he legit hid behind Cellbit when Cucurucho first appeared, and he still isn't too happy when people tell him that Cucurucho is kinda just a silly guy and not to worry about it
q!Max. Enough said there.
Richarlyson. He hates Cucurucho, but he never really says his feelings because he doesn't feel like he deserves to be too upset about anything. Last night alone he set up a huge ad campaign in Cellbit's castle trying to get him to quit the Feds, like???
But then you have some others who are... interesting. Like q!Quackity, who is more or less traumatized by that fucking bear to the point of numbness. And q!Willy, who hasn't even met Cucurucho and still put it down as a "Bad Person" on his list of people to blow up
And then you have q!Roier, whose relationship with Cucurucho is very interesting. Because, on the surface, he's chill with it. But, as you have to do with everything regarding q!Roier's character, you gotta read between the lines:
Roier doesn't like Cucurucho. He likes Osito Bimbo, and that's a pretty big distinction to make!
See, after Bobby's death and the huge rigged expedition to "save" him, Roier told Cucurucho to its face that he hated it. He would take it to court and he would win and he would beat it. That never ended up happening, but what did end up happening was Roier's new best friend and love interest q!Cellbit being kidnapped.
When Cucurucho showed up at Bobby Fields to start stringing q!Jaiden along, Roier followed them the entire time because he fucking hated Cucurucho and he did not trust it alone with his best friend. At one point that evening, he started smacking it and demanding where it took Cellbit. To this day, he's still worried about it taking Cellbit away from him; the other night when Cellbit got called to look into the "Memory" egg and Cucurucho told him to come alone, Roier was really fucking close to physically attacking the fucker. Yesterday, he told Willy that Cucurucho is "...bad, but sometimes it can do good things, too."
But that's Cucurucho. Osito Bimbo is an entirely different person, and Roier is one of the few people to actually know this, and he and Jaiden are the only ones still left on the server to actually fully be able to tell the difference between the two. Osito Bimbo was one of Roier's best friends on the island before its abrupt disappearance. It was nice to him in that it played favorites and left him cool things and fucking flowers. And even now that it's back, it actually hangs out a little. The other day, Osito showed up and wanted to listen to music with him and left only when he asked if it was Osito Bimbo. Last night, Osito showed up and actually engaged in a rap battle with him because, let's face it, that bear is fucking whipped.
That's the 'Cucurucho' that Roier is friendly with, Osito Bimbo. He treats it well because it's always treated him well. As far as he knows, Osito never kidnapped anybody- the kidnappings started long after Cucurucho's appearance, all the way in April/May when the Brazilians arrived. Osito Bimbo was gone by then, sent back to Federation HQ for reprogramming because it was quite literally too nice. This is the bear that gave q!Slime and q!Mariana the chance to get their daughter back; Cucurucho effectively immediately denied Roier the chance to go to court to get his Bobby back.
It's easy to think that Roier is chill with Cucurucho, especially with him dressing up as a white bear as his fursona. But then you have to realize what he called himself: Osito Bimboier. Not Cucuruchoier. The two bears are entirely separate entities to him, and he treats them as such.
So, really, it isn't at all fair to say that Cellbit is completely alone in his hatred. It's true that almost nobody takes him seriously when he talks about how evil Cucurucho is, but there are people who do. The Brazilians, Maximus, Roier... and now there's q!Mouse, who immediately realized the gravity of the situation and became the first person outside of Cellbit's most trusted circle of friends to show sympathy towards him.
I get that everyone loves angst, but you've also gotta realize that. Not everything is angst. There is love, and it is beautiful.
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