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#aaron: :) (somebody get me out of here please)
jrueships · 1 year
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ok girl. calm down .
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dixons-sunshine · 2 months
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Pregnant Pause | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Your life was the epitome of a mess. You had just witnessed two of your friends get brutally murdered, your community was forced to serve an antagonistic group called the Saviours and your partner was taken by the same group, undoubtedly being tortured to try and force him into submission. It wasn't the best moment of your life, and it definitely wasn't the best time to start suspecting that you were pregnant.
Genre: Angst to a little bit of fluff.
Era: Alexandria, Saviour arc.
Warnings: Swearing, blood, mentions of death, typical TWD warnings
Word count: 6.9k
A/n: I had so much fun writing this! To the person who requested this (they asked to remain anonymous), thank you so much. I really hope you like this and I really enjoyed swapping ideas with you for this fic.
As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.
Tears were streaming down your face with no sign of stopping anytime in the near future. In front of you, you could see the disfigured bodies of two members of your group, two of your friends. Glenn Rhee and Abraham Ford, brutally beat to death with a wired baseball bat. It was a fate that nobody deserved, especially not somebody as kind and pure as Glenn, or somebody as caring and courageous as Abraham. But they were gone, and with them, the remaining group's goodwill and hope.
Their deaths weren't the only things that weighed on your shoulders. Negan, the leader of the so-called 'Saviours', had taken Daryl, your partner and love of your life, hostage. You had pleaded to them to let him go, but your pleas had fallen on deaf ears, and with one last tearful look at your archer, the doors to the truck had closed and taken off, taking a huge chunk of your heart with the retreating vehicle.
You could vaguely hear the sound of voices conversing and the shuffle of footsteps around you, but your attention remained fixated on the dirt beneath you. Your mind was racing at the speed of light at that moment, and yet simultaneously, you struggled to think of anything at all. It seemed that with your partner's involuntary departure, your ability to function evaporated into thin air. You had no idea what to do.
You barely registered when Rick shook your shoulder, desperately trying to snap you out of your daze. “Y/N, look at me.”
You hesitantly looked up to meet the striking blue eyes of Rick Grimes, his eyes bloodshot from the tears he had shed earlier. He was tired, that much you could tell, and he seemed to be consumed by grief, the prior events to that moment taking an obvious toll on everyone, including your fearless leader.
“We have to go. It's not safe here,” he whispered, gently urging you to stand. He was patient and caring, knowing full well that the events that had just transpired bore down into your soul. This would traumatize each and every one of the people present, of that much he was sure.
You remained silent, refusing to say anything until you'd had time to fully process everything. The remaining people in your group wordlessly split, Maggie and Sasha heading to the Hilltop and the rest of you heading towards the Alexandria safe zone. Aaron dutifully walked beside you, glancing over at you in concern every few seconds. He opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off before he could utter anything.
“Please, don't,” you whispered weakly, furiously wiping at the tears in your eyes.
Aaron frowned. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly, careful not to alert the others who were walking in front of you.
You shook your head and let out a bitter laugh. “No,” you admitted, pursing your lips. “I'm pretty sure none of us are.”
Aaron's frown deepened, but he ultimately left it at that. The rest of the trek back to Alexandria was spent in a deathly silence, the only audible sounds being footsteps and animals scurrying around in the forest. When you all finally reached the safe zone, dread filled in your heart, because with the Saviours now fit to come knocking at the gates whenever they pleased, the safe zone would never truly be safe ever again.
Four days had passed. Four days since Glenn and Abraham had been brutally murdered in front of you. Four days since your partner had been taken hostage by the hostile group who claimed to be saviours. Four days since your world turned upside down.
The fellow survivors in the community had not taken well to the news of the Saviours' deal with Alexandria, but you had expected that much. They weren't there, they didn't know what could happen if you rubbed the Saviours the wrong way, but you did, and they would figure it out soon enough.
You sighed as you layed on the bed in the basement you shared with Daryl, staring up at the ceiling with a frown on your features. For four days you had tried to think of a solution to the problem at hand, but you had shot point-blank each time. And anytime you had even attempted to talk to Rick about retaliating, about fighting back, he had shut you down in an instant. You couldn't blame him, however. You had witnessed the brutality that Negan possessed and didn't wish to anger him again. You just wanted to find a way to get Daryl out of his clutches and back home, safe. You needed him there with you, especially if your suspicions about something proved to be correct.
For the last two weeks, you'd been way more tired than usual. Your body had grown accustomed to short hours of sleep or no sleep at all, but now it seemed as if you couldn't function even if you'd slept ten hours. You'd been getting nauseous quite frequently and although you had no way of keeping track between your periods, you were pretty sure it was late.
You weren't stupid. You knew what those implications meant and what they were leaning towards, but the possibility of it being true scared you. You and Daryl were as careful as you could be, but there were times when you weren't careful, when you were reckless, so the possibility of motherhood could be an impending thing.
You and Daryl hadn't ever really discussed having kids before. The topic came up once or twice, but that was during the earlier stages of your relationship back at the prison when neither of you were ready for that kind of commitment just yet. And with the whirlwind of chaos that ensued, from the Governor's wrath in Woodbury, to the Governor's annihilation of the prison, to Terminus and then to the fall of Alexandria when the walkers infiltrated, the topic never got the chance to come up again.
And now the possibility of you being pregnant was high, and there was a chance that you'd have to raise the baby without its father.
You quickly shook your head to rid the thoughts from your mind. Groaning in frustration, you got up from the bed and headed up the stairs towards the kitchen. There you found Rosita who was seated at the dining table, her features contorted into a frown while she was fiddling with a gun in her lap. She glanced up at you when she heard your footsteps and offered a silent nod of acknowledgement.
You gave her a nod back and headed towards the kitchen. You retrieved a glass from one of the cabinets and headed over to the sink, filling the glass with water. You leaned back against the kitchen island and slowly sipped at the water, your eyes trailed on one of little Judith's drawings that were stuck to the fridge. It was a picture of stick figures meant to represent everyone in the group, and your heart sank when your eyes trailed over the figure meant to represent the archer.
“What're you looking at?” Rosita asked, grabbing your attention.
“Just this picture that Judith drew of all of us,” you responded, half-heartedly motioning at the drawing stuck to the fridge.
Rosita walked over to you and positioned herself on your right, leaning back against the kitchen island as well. She smiled weakly at the drawing.
“Back when we were happy.”
“Yeah,” you agreed, averting your eyes from the drawing to the woman next to you. “Now everything's just gone to shit.”
“All thanks to that Negan puto,” she spat, her tone holding resentment and anger. Her anger was justified—she had witnessed Abraham getting beaten to death, and afterwards Negan had taunted her about it. He found what he did justified. You knew that Rosita wanted him dead, and you did too.
“Yeah,” you replied with a heavy sigh, placing the empty glass down on the countertop. The two of you stood side by side in silence for a few moments, before Rosita broke the silence again.
“What's up? It seems like something has you down.”
“Yeah, Daryl is being held hostage only god knows where and we have three days to find shit for those assholes or one of us dies,” you stated matter-of-factly, crossing your arms over your chest.
Rosita sighed. “I know, but that wasn't what I meant. It's something else, I can tell.”
You fixated your gaze on the ground, suddenly finding the tiles more interesting than anything else. “No, I mean... I don't know. It might be nothing, but...” You trailed off awkwardly.
Sensing your awkwardness, Rosita quickly tried to reassure you. "It's okay, you don't have to talk about it."
You shot her a grateful look and she gave you a small smile. You brought your hand up and lightly patted her on her shoulder before pushing away from the counter.
“Where are you going?” Rosita inquired, raising her eyebrows in question as she watched your retreating figure.
“I need some air.”
Without waiting for a reply from the woman, you closed the door behind you and leaned back against it momentarily, before pushing away and setting off towards the infirmary.
After a short walk, you arrived at the infirmary. After opening the door and seeing that nobody was inside, you breathed a sigh of relief. You wanted to get this done without anybody knowing. You didn't want people kicking up a fuss when there were bigger problems at hand.
Moving towards the cabinet you knew held the object you were looking for, you could feel your heart racing. When you retrieved the small box with the test that could literally change your life, you felt overwhelmed. You never thought that a small box would intimidate you, but that particular box did.
Wanting to be extra sure of the results, you grabbed another test from the cabinet. Slipping both tests out of the boxes and into your waistband and letting your shirt fall over them to cover them from prying eyes, you quietly slipped from the infirmary before anyone could notice that you were there. You walked with a haste in your step back towards the house, but the sight that awaited you at the gates quickly drew your attention. You quickly made your way over, where you saw none other than Negan beyond the gates, taking out an approaching walker.
You walked up next to Rosita, who looked over at you, anger dancing in her eyes. You were sure that your eyes mirrored the same emotion.
“Easy, peasy, lemon squeezy!” Negan laughed. His eyes strayed to his right, and you could see Rick following his gaze. From your point of view, you could see surprise spread across his face.
“Alright, everybody. Let's get started. Big day,” Negan started, talking to people who were out of your line of sight. “Hey, Rick. You see that? What I just did? That is some service! I mean, we almost get turned away at the gate. Who is that guy, anyway? Do I get mad? Do I throw a fit? Do I bash some ginger's dome in? Nope! I just take care of one of these dead pricks that could've killed one of y'all. Service.”
Your gaze strayed downwards when Negan locked eyes with you. He chuckled before walking through the gates, handing Rick his baseball bat. “Hold this.”
As Negan walked in, the rest of the people he brought with him followed after him. However, you looked up when Rosita let out an almost inaudible gasp. You followed her line of sight and locked eyes with Daryl, and your heart both soared with relief and filled with dread. You were relieved that Negan hadn't killed him, but you could see that he wasn't being treated fairly, either. He was dirty and his face was cut and bruised, and he wasn't wearing any shoes with his "uniform".
You frowned, your eyes not straying from Daryl. Your partner kept his eyes locked on you until Negan spoke up again.
“Hot digidy dog!” Negan exclaimed, his eyes sweeping over the community. “This place is magnificent. An embarrassment of riches, as they say. Yes, sir, I do believe you are gonna have plenty to offer up.”
You looked away from Negan and took a step towards Daryl, hoping to give him a short hug. “Daryl—”
“No. Nope. He's the help. You don't look at him, you don't talk to him, and I don't make Rick chop anything off of him,” Negan cut you off, his eyes shifting to Rick.
When Rick averted his gaze, Negan turned to you, his eyes holding a certain malevolence as he gazed down at you. “Do I make myself clear, darling?”
“Yeah, you've made yourself transparent. I can see right through you,” you spat bitterly, refusing to meet his mocking gaze.
Negan chuckled wickedly. “Careful. We don't want anything to happen to your little lover over there.”
You slowly looked up at the man, your jaw clenched as you glared at him. A few beats of silence passed until you broke the stare first, angrily walking away from him, back towards the house. Tears of frustration welled up in your eyes, but you willed them away, refusing to let them fall. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction of your tears, no matter if he saw it or not.
When you reached the house, you practically flung the door open, storming into the house. Carl, who had been sitting at the dining room table, looked up at your sudden appearance and gave you a concerned look.
You mustered up what you hoped was a reassuring smile and sat down on the chair opposite him. He gave you a questioning look, silently asking what was wrong.
“Negan's here,” you plainly stated, not missing the clenching of his jaw in anger.
“He said a week. He's early,” Carl stated angrily, curling his hands into fists.
“Yeah, but he's here anyway. And he brought Daryl.”
Carl perked up at the mention of the archer's name. “He's here?” When you nodded, he continued. “Is he gonna stay?”
“I doubt it. Negan said that Daryl's here as the help, so I'm pretty sure that Negan's taking him back as soon as he's done here.”
Carl's mood visibly deflated. He sighed and shook his head. “We can't live like this. We should just kill Negan.”
You shook your head. “Believe me, I want Negan dead, too, but even if we kill him, one of his other goons will step up and take his place. We have to kill all of them, not just Negan.”
“How? There's too many of them.”
“I don't know.”
Carl shook his head before standing up, pushing the chair back. “I'm gonna go check on Judith, make sure she's alright.”
At the mention of the small child's name, you suddenly remembered about the two tests that were stuck in your waistband. You got up, too, and nodded at the teenager. “Okay. I have to take care of something real quick.”
With a parting nod, you headed up the stairs and into the bathroom. Quietly locking the door behind you, you inhaled deeply, trying to ease the anxiety that had started to build. You took the two tests from your waistband and held it in front of you, knowing that the results that would show in a few minutes were going to change your life.
Shaking your head and inhaling deeply, you went over to the toilet, two tests in hand. You quickly did your business and placed the two tests on the countertop. You paced around in the bathroom, trying to work up the nerve to see what results awaited you. However, just as you were about to look at the results, a loud banging on the door startled you.
“Hey, hurry up in there! We don't have all day to wait on you!” A voice you didn't recognise bellowed from beyond the door, and you could only assume that it was one of Negan's men. Sighing, you grabbed the tests without so much as peeking at them and slipped them back into the waistband of your jeans. You walked over to the door and opened it, coming face to face with a Saviour.
“What were you doing in there that took you so long, huh, pretty lady?” The man asked, eyeing you up and down with a primal intrigue. You shivered in disgust, shooting him a glare.
Without a word at the man, you walked off, needing to clear your head. The pregnancy tests in your waistband pressed against your skin and reminded you that you had to look at them, but you decided that would have to wait. You weren't about to look at them around prying eyes.
Suddenly, a gunshot rang through the house. Startled, you sprinted towards where you heard the sound and saw Carl holding two Saviours at gunpoint, the Saviours in question holding crates with all of your medication.
“Put some back,” Carl started, pointing the gun at one of the men. “Or the next one goes in you.”
“Carl, what's going on?” You questioned, moving to stand next to the teenager.
“They said that they were only taking half, but now they're taking everything,” Carl explained, keeping his gun trained on the man in front of him.
The man simply laughed, wickedly smiling at the boy. “Kid, what do you think happens next?”
“You die,” Carl stated plainly, glaring at the man.
You looked over at the sound of approaching footsteps and saw Rick, his eyes meeting yours questioningly. You simply shrugged nonchalantly and put a gentle hand on Carl's shoulder. He looked over at you and you gave him a small, tight-lipped smile.
“Don't do anything stupid,” you advised, before leaving Rick to calm his son down. You passed by Negan, who shot you a teasing smile, but you ignored him, moving out onto the porch.
You leaned over the railing, observing the people quietly. You could vaguely hear the voices from inside, but you paid it no mind. After a couple of minutes of just standing there, you saw Aaron walking alone, a frown on his face. You walked down the porch stairs and hurried to catch up to him.
“Aaron, hey!” you called, stopping the man in his tracks. He turned around and saw you approaching, and he offered you a weak smile.
“Hey.”
“Let me guess, the Saviours are ransacking your house right now,” you stated matter-of-factly.
“They took our mattresses. Why the hell would they need that? And our coffee tables? What could they possibly need those for?” Aaron asked, exasperated. He ran his hand through his hair in frustration, his form slumped.
“I think they're just taking them because they can,” you started. “They're trying to prove that what they say is law. They're trying to prove that we have no say, that they can take whatever they want simply because.”
Aaron sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. “I hate this.”
“Me too,” you agreed, nodding sagely. “But what can we possibly do about it now? We're outnumbered and outgunned. We can't take them on even if we wanted to.”
Aaron shook his head. Silently motioning for you to walk with him, the two of you set off, walking to nowhere in particular. “I'm glad to see that Daryl's okay.”
You slightly flinched at the mention of the archer's name and visions of his current state flooded your mind. He looked awful, not just from the filth on him but from the bruises as well. He was being tortured and you wanted to do nothing more than to kill Negan for making him suffer.
“Define "okay",” you sighed, walking up to Aaron's house with him.
“Alive,” he stated simply. The two of you sat down on the porch steps, keeping your gazes ahead on the Saviours who bustled around the community, taking whatever they pleased.
“Yeah, well, let's hope it stays that way,” you whispered, feeling tears well up in your eyes. You wiped them away in frustration.
Aaron placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, giving you a small smile. The two of you quietly sat side by side for a while, simply looking at the chaos of the afternoon. You'd catch glimpses of Daryl from time to time, and he'd shoot you nervous glances before returning to whatever task he was meant to do. Your heart shattered at the thought of what Negan was doing to the love of your life. You silently vowed to yourself that you would find a way to get Daryl away from them, one way or another.
“Aaron, Y/N, meeting in Gabriel's church in five,” Rick's voice called, snapping you from your thoughts. He appeared at the bottom of the steps, his tone holding a frantic urgency.
“Rick? What's wrong?” You asked, getting up from the steps, Aaron following your lead.
“The Saviours, they're taking all of our guns, but we're two handguns short. They're threatening to kill Olivia if we don't find them.”
“Who would have them?” Aaron asked, his eyebrows furrowed.
“I don't know. That's what we're trying to figure out. Like I said, meeting in the church.”
“Nuh uh. Not so fast.”
You clenched your jaw at the voice that resounded behind you. Turning around, you came face to face with Dwight, his mouth upturned in a mocking grin. He was nonchalantly leaning against the wall of the house.
“The missus over here is gonna take me back to whatever hole she and Daryl calls home and give me his shit,” he stated, pushing away from the wall and walking over to you.
You stepped back, glaring angrily at the man. “You already have his crossbow and his vest. What else could you possibly want?”
“His bike, but Rosita's already taking care of that,” Dwight said, crossing his arms over his chest. He turned back towards Rick and waved him off. “Go on, go find out where those guns are.”
Dwight moved forward and gripped your wrist tightly, wordlessly tugging you behind him. You exchanged a nervous glance with Aaron before turning your attention back to Dwight. You ripped your wrist from his grip and glared at him.
“Touch me again and I'll fucking chop your fingers off one by one.”
Dwight chuckled and walked ahead, expecting you to follow him. When he realised that you remained still, he turned to you with a warning glare. “Just so you know, I'm basically Daryl's primary caretaker at the moment. So your behaviour today can either persuade me to make his stay with us better or so much worse. Your choice.”
You hesitated for a moment, before sighing and walking ahead. Dwight's footsteps could be heard from behind you as you silently lead him back to the house, your jaw clenched in anger as you stared ahead.
After a short walk, you lead Dwight up the porch stairs and into the house. You opened the door and stepped inside, the man following closely behind you.
“This is your home?” Dwight questioned, slowly closing the door behind him as he looked about the house in slight awe.
“Mine, Daryl's, Rick's, Michonne's. We all live here,” you stated in a bored tone, walking forward until you reached the door that lead down to the basement. “Our room's down there.”
“You live in the basement?” Dwight asked dubiously, staring down the stairs in question.
“Daryl and I do. We wanted our own space away from everyone where we wouldn't be bothered, hence why we chose the basement.
“Well, then,” Dwight started, lowering his upper body down in a mocking bow. “Lead the way, m'lady.”
You rolled your eyes at him and descended down the stairs. You opened the second door at the bottom of the stairs and pushed inside, the warm air of your shared space with the archer suddenly feeling overwhelming. You disregarded the feeling, focusing instead on the man that followed you down.
You motioned over to the dresser that held most of Daryl's things. “There. You'll find it all there.”
Dwight raised his eyebrows. “All of it? In that one measly dresser?” When you nodded, he continued. “That can't possibly be it.”
“Daryl doesn't own a lot of things that hold sentimental value to him,” you shrugged, sitting down on the bed as you watched the Saviour rummage through the dresser, carelessly tossing pieces of clothing over his shoulder. “Jesus, can you stop? He doesn't have anything else you could want.”
Huffing in frustration, Dwight turned around to face you. However, just as he was about to let out a string of crude remarks, he stopped, spotting something poke out of your waistband. “Stand up.”
“What?”
“Stand up, before I make you,” he threatened.
You hesitantly stood up. However, you nearly stumbled back when he lunged at you. “What the hell are you doing?!” you exclaimed, trying to push him away.
Dwight ignored you. Before you could stop him, he pulled the two pregnancy tests from your waistband, taking a few steps away from you. He eyed the tests, and a look of surprise spread over his face.
“You're pregnant?”
Time stopped. Your heart started pounding against your ribcage, and your eyes widened. You were pregnant. Both tests came back positive. Words eluded you as you simply stared at Dwight.
Dwight shook his head and threw one of the pregnancy tests back in your direction, and you hastily caught it. He pocketed the other one. “Congratulations. I'll be sure to tell Daryl the good news.”
Before you could deny or force him to hand it over, Dwight hurriedly left the room. You sank to your knees on the ground, tears starting to well up in your eyes. You felt helpless, completely and utterly helpless. Sobs wracked through your body as you clutched the pregnancy test in your hand, wishing more than ever that Daryl was there to comfort you, to reassure you that everything would be okay.
But with him being in Negan's clutches, that wouldn't be a reality.
“Hell of a place you got here, Rick,” Negan told Rick, turning around to face him as you all walked towards the gates.
Roughly two hours later, the Saviours were done ransacking your homes and taking whatever they pleased. You had gotten your feelings under control and walked with your leader towards the gates, hoping above all else that you could persuade Negan into letting you at least give the archer a hug.
“Give me a second,” Rick replied, his eyes shifting between the hostile leader of the Saviours and the building beyond the gates.
Negan followed his gaze, before turning back to him. “No.”
“Please, can you just... Give me a second,” Rick pleaded, looking up at Negan.
Negan finally agreed, giving him a nod, a malicious smirk on his face. When Rick jogged over to the building, that left you in Negan's sights, and the man let out a chuckle.
“Well, darling. I see you've actually listened to me. No interactions with your loverboy whatsoever. I'm impressed,” he began, taking a step towards you.
Standing your ground, you simply glared up at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a sarcastic retort. That simply elicited another chuckle from the man.
“You know, there is a way the two of you could be together again. You could always come work for me. Be one of my soldiers, so to speak,” he began, eyeing you up and down. “Usually I wouldn't offer that straight away, but for a looker like yourself, I'd make an exception. Or you could make Daryl's life a whole lot easier if you want. You could become one of my wives.”
Unable to resist the urge, you drew your hand back and slapped Negan across his face. Taken aback, he stumbled, but that grin of his soon returned. His eyes raked over your form hungrily. “Just so you know, I'm so much more attracted to you now.”
You could hear a scuffle behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you spotted an angry looking Daryl being held in place by Dwight. The archer glared daggers in Negan's direction, the urge to hit him evident on his face.
However, before anything could happen, Michonne came marching through the gates with a small deer over her shoulders, Rick hot on her tail. She wore a blank expression, refusing to meet Negan's stare.
“Look at this!” Negan exclaimed, eyeing the deer on her shoulders.
“I thought she was scavenging. She was hunting,” Rick explained to Negan, handing him a gun. “This one never came inside.”
Negan took the gun and smirked. “Look at this. This is something to build a relationship on. Good for you, Rick. This is reading the room and getting the message. I said it before, Imma say it again. You, sir, are special.”
Rick looked at you, sympathy clear in his eyes. “Now that you know we can follow your rules...”
“Yes?” Negan drawled.
“I'd like to ask you if Daryl could stay.”
“Not happening,” Negan refused. He turned around to look at you, a smirk on his face. “You know what, just to make the missus happy, maybe he can stay. Maybe Daryl can plead his case. Maybe Daryl can sway me.”
Negan turned to Daryl. The archer remained quiet, his eyes shifting between you and Negan. It was evident that he wouldn't beg to stay; Daryl's pride would never allow him to do that. Although a part of you wanted Daryl to just drop his pride this once, you were proud of him. Despite what he was going through, he remained steadfast in his beliefs. He would never bow to the likes of Negan, no matter what pain it could inflict on him.
“Daryl?” Negan pressed, amused by the archer's silence. When Daryl remained silent, Negan turned back to you. “Well, Rick tried. Sorry, darling.”
You looked down, missing the apologetic look Daryl sent your way. Unbeknownst to you, Daryl had wanted to do nothing more than beg Negan to leave him here with you, but he couldn't. Not when Negan had threatened to hurt you if he tried to return to Alexandria. Not when his hostage situation could ensure your safety.
“Now what you gotta do, is get over that tall wall of yours and try harder out there,” Negan began, looking at Rick. “Earn for me, because we're coming back soon. And when we do, you better have something interesting for us, or Lucille? She's gonna have her way. I want you to hear that again. If you don't have something interesting for us, somebody's gonna die. And no more magic guns. Arat, grab that deer. It's getting late. Let's go home.”
Michonne angrily dropped the deer and turned around. You shot one final lingering glance at the archer, your partner and love of your life, before following suite. Michonne put her arm around your shoulder and together the two of you walked back to your shared home, ignoring Negan's mocking laughter.
“Something's wrong, I can tell,” she whispered quietly.
You shook your head. “I wouldn't necessarily say something is wrong,” you denied. “I just really need Daryl more than ever right now.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
“Yeah,” you confirmed. “But not without Rick. I need his opinion too.”
“You're pregnant?”
You physically winced at the incredulous sound of your leader's voice. For the second time that day, someone had asked you that pivotal question, but this one finally made it register in your mind. You were pregnant. And Daryl wasn't there to help you through it.
Michonne wrapped an arm around you, allowing you to lean into her side for support. She rubbed your arm, hoping to bring you some form of comfort under Rick's disbelieving stare.
“Rick,” she scolded, sending her partner a pointed look, as if telling him to read the room.
“Sorry,” he apologized, shifting his attention back to you. “When did you find out?”
“Today,” you whispered, your voice hoarse all of a sudden. “Right after Dwight took me down to the basement to rummage through Daryl's things. He saw the tests and took one. I think he's gonna use it to torture Daryl mentally. How could I let that happen?”
Michonne pulled you tighter against her side, allowing you to cry into her shoulder as she whispered reassuring words into your ear. “It's not your fault. Hey, it's okay. We'll figure it out, I promise.”
You hesitantly nodded against her shoulder, withdrawing from her hold and standing up. You began to pace the room, anxiously fiddling with your fingers.
“What should I do?”
“Go to the Hilltop,” Rick advised, effectively stopping your pacing. “They have a doctor there who can ensure that you and the baby are okay. And you'll have Maggie and Sasha by your side. It'll be safer for you there.”
“I can't just leave,” you shut him down, shaking your head. “Negan is fit to come knocking at the gates whenever he pleases. We need more supplies, and soon. We need more people going out there.”
“Like hell I'm letting you out there,” Rick argued. “Daryl would never forgive me if I let anything happen to you or the baby, whether he knows about it now or not. The best thing you can do now for yourself and your baby is to go to the Hilltop. It's safer and it's out of harm's way. Please, if not for yourself, for Daryl. For your baby.”
Sensing your hesitation, Michonne stood up, facing you head-on. “Rick's right,” she began, capturing your undivided attention. “Go. We'll be okay here. Your primary focus should be your wellbeing right now. Once things cool down around here, I'll come get you myself. I promise.”
You remained quiet for a few moments, pondering over their words before nodding. “Okay,” you whispered. “I'll go.”
“We'll have a car ready for you in the morning,” Rick responded, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You're doing the right thing. Daryl would've wanted this.”
“I know,” you sighed. “It doesn't make it any easier, though.”
The next morning came way too soon for your liking. Packed up and ready to go, you exchanged goodbyes with everyone. You were busy hugging Carl, the teenager clutching to your shirt tightly.
“Don't die,” he told you when he pulled back from the hug.
“Don't do anything stupid,” you retorted, playfully pushing his hat down over his face, successfully coaxing a laugh from him.
After a few more exchanges, and another hug from Carl, you got into the car and drove off, heading towards the Hilltop Colony. The drive was spent in an anxious silence. You were wondering if you'd made the right choice, if leaving Alexandria for a while was really the best decision, but as your hand drifted to your flat abdomen that would soon grow, to the life that fluttered there, you knew that Rick and Michonne were right. Your primary focus should be your baby right now, and you'd be damned if you let anything happen to them.
After a while, the gates to the Hilltop came into view. You got out of the car as the gates opened, soon being engulfed in hugs by Sasha and Maggie. Jesus stood off to the side with a smile on his face.
“What are you doing here?” Maggie asked, pulling back from the hug.
“It's a lot to explain,” you said, giving her a tight-lipped smile.
“Come inside. We'll get you something to eat,” Jesus offered.
You smiled at him and nodded. “Sure. That sounds great.”
“That Gregory guy is such an asshole,” you spat angrily, sitting on the bench outside of Jesus' trailer.
Sasha rolled her eyes. “Welcome to my world. We've been dealing with this prick for two weeks now and he still hasn't gotten better.”
You shook your head, your hand absentmindedly rubbing over your stomach. One week with the Hilltop's leader breathing down your neck and you were just about ready to shoot him. He kept on sending crude remarks in your direction, voicing his obvious disdain that he had yet another Alexandrian he had to keep hidden from the Saviours. Thankfully Jesus was there to put him in his place whenever you were the object of his distasteful glares, and since the day before, Enid as well.
Suddenly, shouts could be heard from the gates, before they were opened. You perked up at the rumble of a motorcycle, standing up to move closer and get a better view, instantly spotting the familiar glint of a familiar motorcycle coming to a halt, and an even more familiar man getting off of it. Your heart started pounding against your ribcage, and before anyone could stop you, you started running.
“Daryl!” you called, running as fast as your legs could carry you.
Daryl turned around at the sound of your voice. As soon as he saw you, he started running as well, meeting you halfway. You practically flung yourself into Daryl's arms, and he instantly reciprocated the hug, burying his face into your shoulder. You hugged him to you tightly, holding the back of his head as you tried to withhold the tears flooding in your eyes.
“C'mon,” Jesus urged gently, prompting you and Daryl to pull apart. “There's a room in the Barrington house. You can use it to get cleaned up and changed into something else.”
Daryl hesitated, but you nodded. “It's okay. I'll be there with you.”
You took Daryl's hand in your own and followed behind Jesus. The two of you were soon in the aforementioned room, Daryl sitting down on the bed while you cleaned up one of the cuts on his face. He remained silent, his eyes locked on your face. He lifted his hand and cupped your cheek, halting your movements.
“What's wrong?” you asked, placing a hand over his one that rested on your cheek.
“M'jus' remindin' myself tha' this is real. Tha' this ain't some trick my mind is playin' on me. Tha' this ain't another dream.”
You gently took his hand and lead it to your heart, placing his hand over it to feel the steady beating of it. “I'm here,” you whispered. “You're here. This isn't a dream. It's real.”
Daryl swallowed and nodded, before letting his hand trail down to your stomach. “Is... Is this real? Are ya pregnant?”
Your heart dropped. The only way he could know was if Dwight did what you suspected—he mentally tortured the love of your life with the knowledge that you could've been pregnant.
Your silence confirmed it for the archer. He sighed and swallowed heavily. “Ya are. Yer pregnant.”
You nodded slowly, guilt creeping up in you. “I am. Did Dwight tell you?”
“He showed me the test. Said it was yers, tha' he found it with ya tha' day we were at Alexandria. I didn't wanna believe him at first, but the more I thought 'bout it, the more I started believin' him,” Daryl replied. “When did ya find out?”
“The first time Negan showed up with all of you,” you admitted. “Dwight took one of the tests from me before I could stop him. I'm sorry, I should've tried harder. You were already going through so much shit with the Saviours, and then he had to go put more shit on you because of me.”
Daryl pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “Dun' blame yerself. Wha' do ya have to be sorry fer? Findin' out yer pregnant?”
“For allowing him to take the test and use it against you.”
“Dun' be sorry. S'okay,” he whispered into your hair, stroking your back softly. Once you had calmed down, Daryl allowed one of his hands to travel back down to your stomach.
“Yer really pregnant?” he asked with a slight laugh, rubbing your stomach affectionately.
You laughed in wonder and nodded. “Yeah. There's a tiny you in there.”
“Nah, they're gon' be a tiny ya. Sweet, kind and a badass, jus' like their mama,” Daryl countered, placing a kiss against your forehead. “Our baby. Our lil' peanut.”
“You really wanna do this? Are you ready to start your own family?” you questioned, leaning your head against his shoulder.
“With ya?” Daryl began, pulling you closer to him. “M'ready fer anythin'.”
877 notes · View notes
thewulf · 10 months
Text
Don't Go || Aaron Hotchner
Summary: Request - Reader is head over heels for Hotch but always assumes he doesn’t feel the same way. It’s around s7 and he gets together with Hotch and she withdraws over time. When Emily says goodbye she tells reader she is always welcome with her in London if she needs to leave, and after another couple months she takes Emily up on the offer.... Read Rest Here
A/N: Love this guy. Thank you for the request. Loved writing this one!
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N
Word Count: 3.1k+
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Six Months Prior
“You know, I’m just a phone call away. I’d be happy to hire you as an agent.” You nodded at your best friends words. It didn’t seem possible that you’d ever accept the offer, but you couldn’t deny her either. Not right away at least.
“I’ll think about it Em.” Hugging her tightly you stifled the small cry that wanted to come out. She’d become a best friend to you over the years. The one true person you could trust through and through entirely The one who knew you better than you knew yourself.
She knew all about you crush on Hotch and how you’d never do anything about it. She tried for years after Haley’s death to get you to do something. You never did. He never did. It wasn’t meant to be.
She hugged you back squeezing you tightly into her embrace, “Please do. I’m being serious. Just a phone call away.” Her smile looked sad as she took one last look at you before getting into the security line.
You pulled away nodding at your friend, “Good luck Em. Call me when you land.”
She squeezed your hand once more. A gesture of love you’d grown to care for over the years, “Thanks for driving me. I’ll call you the second the plane lands.” She waved as you walked back to the garage. Man, you sure did hate goodbyes. You knew you’d see her soon but it still hurt.
You watched as she walked off into the airport. It certainly wouldn’t be the last time you’d see her, but it sure did suck you wouldn’t get to see her every day. But it was good for her. A promotion she desired. Maybe you would think of her offer. Maybe, just maybe. You took a mental image of Emily as she waved once more before disappearing.
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Present Day
Maybe you weren’t supposed to hear it. But when you walked by Hotch’s office to drop off some files and Derek was already there you had to listen in. Had to, how could you not? But you’d regretted it the second you heard it, “My girlfriend and I went there this weekend.” His voice, your bosses voice, spoke through the doorway.
You heart sunk but Derek’s apparently soared. He hooted and clapped his bosses shoulder, “You did it? You asked Beth out?”
He nodded. You took a step back making sure you weren’t seen. Clutching the files to your chest you kept listening in, “Yeah. A few weeks ago. It’s been good. Jack seems to really like her.”
Damn. That was it then. Your chance was gone and over. You were the fool though. He’d given you years to make a move. You leaned back on the wall paralyzed. Knock on the door? Walked away? Keep listening to the horror show?
Paralysis won, “I’m happy for you Hotch.”
He hesitated. What did that mean? You took a step backwards before hearing him once more, “Me too. She different. Calm job that she loves. Relaxed all the time.” Everything you weren’t it felt like. Ouch.
Walking back down to your desk you checked the time on your computer. Nine in the morning, which meant that Emily was probably still working. You pulled your phone out of you back pocket sitting down in the office chair. Maybe it was time for a change. Nothing was happening for you here. Hotch was happy with somebody else. Not even the smiles and simple conversations between the two of you enough to satisfy. You’d harbored a stupid little crush that he never seemed to reciprocate. He didn’t hate the attention you gave him, no. He loved it dearly. He didn’t know much he loved it. Not until you began to withdraw from him.
It was the small things at first. Instead of looking at him when he spoke you kept your eyes on the case file or to the person beside you. You decided that smiling at him was no longer an option either. So, when you continued smiling at everybody in the office except for him it started to drive him crazy. Your smile actually dropped when you noticed he walked into the room. You stood up straighter in your chair and sucked in a breath. What in the hell was happening with you?
You were still kind. Still nodded in acknowledgement. Still recognized him as your boss and your boss only. You had to do this, for yourself. Had to break away. Start something new. This life was quickly becoming toxic.
It’d taken you months to find the courage to ask Emily for a transfer. But after you’d heard Hotch gushing about Beth once more it was the last straw for you. You didn’t want to hear about Beth and how fun she was. You didn’t want to hear about any of it. It wasn’t your place to tell him to cool it on her, so you had to do what you needed to do. Transfer to London.
Your knees bounced up and down in the smaller conference room you’d reserved to talk with Emily. You gulped when you heard her pick up from the other side on the line, “Y/N. How are you?” She asked you.
“I’m okay Em.” You let out a silent breath
She paused for a moment, “What’s up?” She knew you. Knew you deeply. Something was bugging you.
Might as well just spit it out, “I thought about your offer. Interpol.”
“Oh?” She sounded genuinely surprised that came out of your mouth. Such a homebody wouldn’t have ever dared to make this kind of decision.
“If you were being serious that is.” You wanted to clarify quickly. Maybe even she didn’t want or need you.
She nodded, but you couldn’t see it, “Of course I was! Absolutely yes. Let me just call Hotch and put the transfer in.”
You let out a breath, “I haven’t told him.”
“Why not?” She asked more as a friend rather than a future boss. How interesting all of that was going to be.
“I don’t know.”
She wouldn’t let you get away with that answer though, you knew that much, “Yes you do.”
You looked around the small conference room seeing all notes scribbled around. Looking ahead you watched as your coworkers walked around smiling and chatting with each other. You saw as Aaron looked around, maybe for you, maybe for somebody else. Your heart clenched when you looked back down at your phone, “He has a new girlfriend Emily. He’s head over heels for her.” You chewed on your already worn-down fingernails waiting for her response. A nasty habit you’d never been able to break in all your years.
“Oh sweetheart.” You heard her sigh from the other end of the phone, “Are you sure about this? Transferring? I don’t want you to feel like you’re running from your problems.” That’s what you’d admired most about Em.
You sat back down at your desk and waited. Waited for God knows how long. He didn’t call you into his office that day. Nor the next. It had been when you had gotten back from a case down in Miami that he asked you to stay behind on the jet for a moment. Nobody thought anything of it, but you knew. You knew exactly why he asked you to stay behind.
“A transfer?” His voice low once Spencer was out of earshot and down the stairs.
You couldn’t bear to look at him, so you just looked straight ahead, “Yeah.” You stated. Plain and simple. What else did you really have to say.
“Why?” He asked walking in front of you. He needed to know. More than ever, he craved to know what in the hell was happening with you. He’d adored you from afar for so long. The loving smile you always wore. The overly optimistic attitude often rubbed off on him. But it was fading. Fading so fast into the night that when Emily called he wasn’t surprised. Just hurt. Hurt that you wouldn’t have told him. And hurt that you wanted to leave him.
“I need a change.” It wasn’t a lie. You did need a change. You couldn’t just pine for your boss who was in love with another woman from afar. No, that was far too embarrassing. And exhausting. You had to go.
His eyes roamed your face for any tell. You were stoic as ever though. Hiding the waves of crashing emotions behind a big ass wall you’d never let come crumbling down. Shields that guarded your mind.
“You can find change here.” He started.
Shaking your head quickly you rebuked him, “I can’t. I’m stagnant. Tired. I can’t do this anymore.” You motioned your hand out to him before grabbing it back in towards your body.
“Can’t do what?” His eyes glazed over in curiosity as he studied you further. Trying to understand the person he thought he knew. Turns out he hadn’t a clue.
Your eyes narrowed. You weren’t actually going to tell him. Might as well keep him tapdancing on his toes, “This. I’m going crazy Hotch. I have to leave. Move on. Start a life.”
“What are you talking about Y/N?” He was either playing stupid or he genuinely hadn’t the faintest idea how you felt about him and that might’ve hurt worse.
You let out a little laugh, smiling because fuck it, might as well lay it all out for him clear as day. Something you never thought you’d have to do for a profiler. Leave it to Aaron Hotchner to act like a man in this situation, “I’ve been working with you for what? Five years now Hotch? I’ve been through a lot with you. You’ve seen me at my worst, and I’ve seen you at your lowest.” You sighed knowing you were just rambling now. Might as well rip the Band-Aid off, “I like you Hotch. Way more than an employee should. More than a friend should. I’ve liked you for so long and I’ve been too much of a coward to move on. So, I’m finally doing something for me. I can’t watch you fall in love Hotch. I just, I can’t. And I’m sorry. I’m weak.” You spilled out.
He shook his head reaching out. You took a step back involuntarily. Your brain reminding you that he had a girlfriend, “You’re not weak Y/N.” He frowned seeing you take a step back. You liked him? Had he never noticed? Had he never thought about it? Had he always seen you as just a friend?
You let out a full-on laugh, “I tell you I like you and that’s your response?”
He looked over your features for what felt like the first time. You were beautiful. Breathtaking even. He never let himself look at his coworkers like that. Things never turned out good when they did. Then you walked him. He knew how stunning you were. Then you were the kindest person he’d met on top of that? He was sure to be a sucker for you. But he blocked those thoughts out fast. He’d just have to enjoy your friendship. That was all. Plus, you were so much younger than him. Had so much more to look towards.
Through the years your smile never faltered. Not when Haley had been killed and he broke down right in front of you. Not when he needed it most. You were there and held him in your arms for hours whispering encouragement to the man. You were always there for him. Always there when he didn’t need you but wanted you to be there. You were always there, in the best way. You’d integrated yourself so seamlessly within his life he couldn’t stand the thought of losing you. That was when he knew he’d fucked up. He’d fucked up with Beth by leading her on for so long. He didn’t want her. He wanted you. Who gave a damn about your age when you wanted him. When you initiated the charge. All bets were off now.
He'd always wanted you but tried to deny it. He hid it away in a locked-up box in the back corner of his brain, “Don’t go Y/N.”
You shook your head tears rushing to the forefront of your eyes, “You can’t do that Hotch. Not now. You have Beth. I have to go.”
He shook his head taking a step forward to match your backwards one, “You don’t have to go. Please. Let’s just talk. Take a seat.” He wanted to punch himself for being so formal with you like he always had. If he was going to try and break down that mental shield you put up being a stiff board certainly wouldn’t help.
You cocked your head to the side unsure of what you’d heard. You thought this was going to be quick and that was certainly not turning out to be the case here, “Okay.” You thought you’d owed him that. You were close not that long ago. That ended when Beth crept into his life taking hold of the crevices of his mind you’d used to hold so closely. How had he not even noticed? How was he this fucking blind?
He leaned forward once he sat on the couch at the back of the jet next to you, not daring to go back to the seat he was previously sitting in. He needed to be closer to you, “Don’t go.”
“Aaron.” You closed your eyes unsure of what to do. Certainly, unsure of what to say.
He shook his head, “Please. I… I can’t let you go.” His voice wavered as his own watery eyes looked onto yours. Damn. Your heart sped up at the sight feeling things you really shouldn’t have at that admission.
You squeezed your eyes shut, “Why?” You needed to know.
When he didn’t answer you opened your eyes. He was just looking at you. Carmel eyes tracing over every feature on your face. He smiled slightly when your eyes met his. You felt the blazing blush rise across your face as he kept studying you so obviously. The tension in the air grew thicker with every passing second of silence. As if he knew you couldn’t take it anymore he finally answered you, “I’m an idiot. I don’t want her Y/N. I want you. I may not have always known it but now that I do, it’s supposed to be you.”
You shook your head quickly in utter disbelief, “Don’t say that. You have Beth. You have a life here.”
His eyes grew serious as he scooted closer to you. His knees brushed yours as he leaned forward once more, “I need you to hear me right now. I don’t want her. I want you. Just… just let me clean this up.” He pleaded taking one of your hands in his. He knew he was onto something when you didn’t pull away from him.
“Aaron…”
He cut you off, “Please, just don’t go. Please. Let me fix this.” Every part of him begged you. The most emotion you’d seen since Haley had passed. It sent shivers down your spine as you thought about it. He was being vulnerable with you.
You swallowed unsure of what the fuck to do now. This was certainly not on your short list of items that could possibly have happened to you when you did this. Aaron Hotchner begging you not to go? Impossible. Yet here you were with his hands in yours and pleading eyes.
When you didn’t answer he continued, “Please. Don’t go.” He took your other hand in his. He too had to make a scary confession just like you had moments prior, “I may have been too blind to see it before but sweetheart I… I like you too. And I’ve been missing you. You’ve been here but you haven’t been present. You have been with everybody else but me. I don’t want a life without you in it. So please, please don’t go.” He would ask a million more times if that’s what it took. He’d do anything you asked. Go anywhere you wanted. Be anything you needed really. He always knew it was you. He was just playing by the rules for too long. You’d snapped him right out of that though. He couldn’t actually let you go to London. No way in hell. He’d normally do anything for his employees, but he couldn’t let you go. He’d find you a better job here if that’d what it meant for you to stay.
You gave in. You weren’t thinking right with his big hands covering yours so easily. A steady rub from his palm sent shivers up your arm sending your mind into a frenzy. A moment you were so scared for turned so intimate.
You nodded your head mumbling out a soft, “Okay.” Before being brave and turning your eyes up to his big brown ones.
The relief that washed over him at that was evident. He threw his head back in relief. A big smile crossed his face when he came back to looking at you, “Really?” He asked, not believing it himself.
“Yeah. You have good puppy dog eyes Hotch.”
He shook his head scooting you closer to him, “Call me Aaron, sweetheart.” You heart sped up once your legs tangled with his. Two oblivious idiots soon to be in love trying it for the first time together. Awkwardness and all you soaked it in. His touch. His smell. His presence with you right there on the jet.
“Alright, Aaron.”
He smiled that gorgeous smile you’d grown to love but never saw often enough. Rarely that smile would make its presence and when it did it blew you away. You smiled right back at him as looked you over once more, “Let me drive you home.”
“What about my car?” You asked the most obvious question it felt dumb coming out.
He shrugged, “I’ll pick you up before work tomorrow. No worries.”
You didn’t want to oblige but you really wanted the alone time, “If you’re sure.”
His smile only grew. He stood up and pulled you up right with him, “I’m positive. Now, let’s get you home.” He didn’t drop your hand as he led you down the stairs and over to the parking lot not that far from the air strip. Your smile didn’t falter as he led the way so utterly sure he’d made the right decision, finally.
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Request Taglist: @mischief-merlyn @mrs-ssa-hotch
458 notes · View notes
hotchs-big-hands · 8 months
Text
The Slaughterhouse
Aaron Hotchner x plus-size fem!reader part 1 5.3k words
Minors dni please
Warning(s): VERY DARK, graphic murder description, injury, gore, blood, fatphobia, extreme angst (with a happy ending), sort-of enemies to lovers, kidnapping, torture, references to SA, derogatory nsfw comments. Oh and I use the word fat because I personally reclaimed it to not rly insult me as it is merely a descriptive word. I do not use it in an insulting way even once in the series.
Please heed the warnings, this series is going to be dark asf. No smut in this series tho.
An escalating string of gruesomely murdered fat women begin to stack up with no end in sight. What started as an unfortunate routine case for the BAU team, takes a disturbing turn as you become entangled in the unsub's web, danger approaching closer and closer. It's only a matter of time before it's too late to bring the madness to an end.
Hiiiii everyone! I'm really happy to start my new series! It's a vast departure from my previous series lol but I hope you all enjoy regardless! As stated tho in the warnings it's gonna get dark so feel free to skip if you're not comfortable! But if you'd like to be tagged then please let me know! Happy reading 💖💖💖
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A thin trail of red tinged water trickled down into the drain, not quite blending together more so than the red slowly spread out in the clear liquid like drops of crimson ink.
"Has Pen got a cute bandaid I could use, you think?" You asked the woman beside you as you rinsed a papercut you'd gained from the insultingly tall stack of paperwork on your desk. The woman, Emily Prentiss, shrugged slightly, tussling her silky, black hair.
"Maybe. I'll text her and ask."
"Thanks."
It didn't take long for the door to the women's restroom to burst open, almost slamming into the wall as a frantic Penelope Garcia rushed over to you, a pink first aid kit in her bejewelled hands.
"I'm here, I'm here! Nurse Garcia to the rescue!!" She cried, her blonde curls bouncing with every step. You chuckled at her as Emily stepped out of the way.
"Thank goodness, I was really starting to have second thoughts about my survival rate here."
Penelope was quick to spring into action, setting the kit down and upon opening it she retrieved an antiseptic wipe.
"Give me your hand, I'm going to clean the area." She instructed, eyes a little narrowed as she began to concentrate. You winced slightly when the antiseptic stung a little, but soon you were sporting an adorable pink bandaid with a Hello Kitty pattern on it. You held your hand out to admire it with a grin.
"Thanks so much, Pen!"
The ditzy blonde woman smiled.
"You are so welcome, my lovely."
"Come on, we need to head back to the bullpen before somebody notices we disappeared." Emily said pointedly, glancing at Penelope who returned the look. You grimaced slightly and took the empty bandaid wrapper to shove in the trashcan under your desk.
"Yeah true, we should go before I end up with another stack of paperwork." You muttered, heading towards the door and pulling it towards you. That somebody was none other than your up-tight, impersonal boss and unit chief Aaron Hotchner. Well, impersonal with you that is.
 Your time in the BAU had only been a mere year, but it was long enough to form relationships with your coworkers. Whenever possible, you attended ladies' nights with Penelope, Emily and the only other woman in the BAU; Jennifer 'JJ' Jareau, spent time with the ever charmer Derek Morgan whilst he worked on his house projects and happily listened to the young Doctor Spencer Reid as he spoke extensively about chemistry or some sort of engineering related topic. Hell, sometimes you even offered an ear to the oldest member of the team; David Rossi, discussing his passion for cooking and other such things from his life.
But no matter what you tried, there was no breaking down the walls around Aaron Hotchner and at this point you'd begun to stop trying. And it hurt like hell. Not because he was your boss, you didn't care so much about that, but because you happened to like him very much. Probably too much even. He was gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous. Even now you couldn't stop yourself from letting your eyes wander over to glance at him, to take in his tall stature and handsomely seasoned features. And you knew he had a kind and loving side to him as well from the interactions you'd witnessed between him and your coworkers. But the same couldn't be said for you. He never offered that olive branch to you, never spoke to you besides work related discussion when on cases. Hell, you basically knew nothing of his son besides the snippets the others had told you of the elusive boy. Not from Agent Hotchner, but from Emily, Derek, Penny...
There was no way of saying it didn't sting, because it did very much so. And it had been this way right from when you walked through the door per section chief Erin Strauss' recommendation. Your interview was tense between yourself, Hotchner and Rossi with the two of them seemingly being in disagreement about you. Rossi, on one hand, was adamant about your capabilities and of what you would bring to the team, whereas your now boss was reluctant. Nitpicky. Wanting to find something to use to keep you from the position in the team. And when he realised you were officially in the team on your first day, walking into the bullpen with your slightly busted brown box of desk essentials and trinkets, was when the walls were raised to impenetrable heights.
Sighing quietly, you returned to the bullpen, fingers of your uninjured hand fiddling with the balled up wrapper. Your eyes flicked to the familiar windowed office above the main desk area. The blinds were open. He no doubt knew yourself and Emily had disappeared for a short while. You scowled a little to yourself. What did it matter? As long as you got your work completed all the same then it didn't matter if you were at your desk the whole day or not. And it didn't matter what he thought, or if he even did take notice of your absence or if he knew why you were gone. Or if he worried over you. It didn't matter, you told yourself.
"Hey sweet thing, what's that frown for, huh?" You blinked as you were brought to the present by the voice of your friend Derek Morgan. You turned in your chair to face him with a sheepish grin.
"Oh, I'm just annoyed I got a papercut. Like are you kidding me?" You said humourously and the dark skinned man laughed, his teeth gleaming under the artificial office lights.
"Aww I'm sorry, did you accidentally touch these abs or something?" His eyes were shining mischievously now and you rolled your own with a scoff.
"Yeah yeah, you wish. The culprit was this pile of paperwork though."
In response, Derek formed a heart shape with his hands, only to break it when he moved his hands away from one another, pouting sadly as he slumped back in his chair. You giggled quietly and rolled your eyes before you returned your attention to the casefiles on your desk. But it wasn't long before you spotted the colourfully dressed Penny again as she rushed towards your unit chief's office, meaning there was a case about to unfold. You eyed your coworkers, who returned the glance, then automatically made a move to close the casefile you had open on your desk and added it to the paper tower. You rose from your seat just as the office door swung open again and Penny reappeared with Hotch behind her. As she made her way to the conference room the tall man leaned over the walkway in the direction of your colleagues and yourself.
"We have a case. Be in the conference room in 2 minutes." He said curtly, eyes flicking between each face. They lingered on you for a moment, brows pulled together in a deep frown, then moved away as he followed the blonde woman. Over time you'd come to understand that look; this case was bad. Very bad.
JJ was already in the conference room when you trailed in behind Reid, Rossi following behind you and closing the door as the last person in the room. You took a seat near the far side of the round table from the doorway, Emily moving to sit on your left. Your eyes drifted around the room, brows furrowing very slightly when you couldn't find the unit chief in his usual position at the table. The chair beside you made a sound as it was pulled out and to your horror you realised none other than Derek Morgan had taken Hotch's seat, which meant...
You heard Aaron Hotchner clear his throat to your right as he shifted to get comfortable in the chair, the leather squeaking beneath his weight. You didn't dare look his way, instead turning your head to Emily with a slightly skittish look in your eyes. To your horror she was already looking at you, a devilish smirk battling its way on her face.
"You okay there, (L/n)?" She asked sweetly. You scoffed.
"Always am."
You could have sworn you heard the man beside you draw in a sharp breath.
"Let's get started." He said in his smooth, deep voice.
JJ had laid out the casefiles for everyone to look at, but as you reached forward to grab your copy a tanned, hairy hand gently grasped your wrist. You flinched, body turning to the culprit as none other than your boss. He stared back, brows furrowed deeply and his emotions guarded.
"Careful."
You knew all eyes were on the two of you, the burn of the stares was almost unbearable, like fire ants crawling all over you. And then Penelope cleared her throat, ending the moment. Hotch retracted his hand from your wrist carefully and you turned your attention to the two blonde women about to present the case.
It became very apparent almost immediately why your boss was hesitant for you to open your casefile.
You had seen all manner of depravity in this field of work. And while you didn't exactly enjoy seeing the bodies of victims, even the most gruesome crimes didn't really affect you as much as they used to. But what you didn't expect was seeing the horribly mutilated corpses of women, women who had a common similarity with you. Every single one was fat like you. Well, as best as you could tell through the extent of the mutilations to the bodies. With the side-by-side comparison of the photos of the victims as they were alive and happy, their cheerful smiles besides the butchered bodies was... difficult. Hell, you could effortlessly imagine a photo of yourself alongside theirs with how similar their bodies were to yours.
The voices of your colleagues around you seemed distant as your eyes read the current details of the case. Over the course of 4 months, seven women of varied ethnicities, between the ages of 19 and 25, had all been found dumped naked in a variety of locations in a large town in Texas. Their bodies were butchered and there was evidence of violent sexual assault. A chilling detail was each victim had had their blood drained entirely. You couldn't stop your eyes from drifting back to the photos of their faces.
"(L/n)?"
You blinked, looking up to see who had spoken. All eyes were on you, causing you to wince slightly.
"Yeah?"
Beside you, Emily placed her hand on your arm.
"You alright?" She asked quietly. You were quiet for a moment.
"Oh, yeah I'm... fine. I was just reading the details." You managed to murmur.
"Any thoughts so far?" Rossi cut in, staring at you intently.
"Mhm, this killer holds a lot of resentment towards fat women from the way they've sliced and butchered their bodies. The blood draining is a bit unusual, however I don't think it's for ritualistic purposes."
"What do you suspect it to be about?" JJ spoke. You narrowed your eyes a little as you thought about it.
"I'm... not sure. Maybe there isn't a purpose other than to get rid of the mess."
Beside you, the leather of the chair Hotch sat on creaked under his movement when he closed his copy of the casefile and pushed away from the table.
"We'll continue to discuss theories on the plane. For now, get yourselves ready to go. Wheels up in thirty." He concluded and stood up from his seat, everyone else following along. You closed your file and made a move to follow behind Emily, when the familiar touch of Hotch's hand grasped your wrist gently again. "(L/n), a word."
Helplessly, you watched everyone file out of the room and you sighed gently. His hand dropped away and as you glanced down at your feet you could feel his scrutinizing stare.
"I need you to remain by my side for this case." He said bluntly.
"Huh?"
You frowned at him. This certainly wasn't what you thought he was going to say. You watched as his brow creased.
"I want to keep an eye on you."
What? You blinked at him.
"Why's that, sir? I don't quite follow."
"I don't want to be insensitive but you have seen the victims the unsub targeted. I just want to make sure you're safe." Hotch explained in as gentle of a way he had ever spoken to you. Oh... You swallowed thickly and nodded once.
"I see. Uh, well I appreciate it, sir. I should be okay though, I have you all around me after all."
It was your boss' turn to frown now, evidently displeased with your response. But he didn't push it, picking his casefile off the table and fixing his watch around his wrist.
"If you insist. But I don't approve of this though."
You nodded and cleared your throat, following him as he stalked out of the conference room. As he made a right turn towards his office, you continued forward until you were with the others again. JJ was the first to break the air of curiosity.
"What did Hotch want?" She asked you as she checked she had everything she needed in her go bag. You sighed and crossed over to your desk.
"Said he wants me to stay by his side, given the nature of what we're dealing with."
"And are you doing that?" Derek asked, eyeing you pointedly. You shook your head.
"I don't really want to have to hang back from working on this case as much as I intend on doing so."
Emily lightly nudged you when she approached your desk, her bag slung over one shoulder.
"Maybe he has a point though." She offered but you scrunched your nose up.
"I also don't really feel like spending the whole time with someone who acts like I'm as worthy of their time as a plank of rotting wood would be." You muttered to yourself as you shoved the casefile in your bag, missing the uncomfortable shared glances of your team mates when the subject of your conversation approached the group.
You felt Emily nudge you again and you straightened up, sealing your bag shut.
"Alright, alright I'm ready to go n..ow..." she wasn't looking at you, you realised, and your body tensed when you heard him speak.
"Let's head out." Agent Hotchner said roughly and turned to leave, face sour. Damn, you strongly hoped he hadn't heard you just now but judging from his expression you knew he must have done. Sighing softly, you picked your bag up and swung it over your shoulder. And followed behind the others to head to the airport. It was never a good idea to start a case off with conflict.
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Work began immediately when the team met up with the Police department in Memphis, with everyone splitting up to take care of different tasks. Much to your relief, Hotch had teamed you up with Derek to visit the bar the latest victim had been last seen before her disappearance and murder. Despite the time in the day it was rowdy inside, a significant hum of conversation ever present as the two of you navigated around to interview staff and patrons. So far, there had been no luck though with finding any information on whoever was responsible for the crimes.
As your eyes drifted around the room they settled on a young woman who had just entered the bar. She stood around five feet six inches tall with dyed red curls which ended around her shoulders and her figure was similar to your own, albeit slightly bigger. Someone the unsub would target, you thought to yourself bitterly. Her eyes found you and she nervously approached you, gaze darting around. Nudging Derek subtly, you met the girl halfway across the bar. She was shaking.
"Hey, I'm agent (Y/n) (L/n) and this is agent Derek Morgan of the FBI. Are you alright?" You asked her gently and she cleared her throat.
"You're... you're investigating the murders, aren't you?" Her voice was quiet. You nodded and brought your hands up to take hold of her arms.
"I understand it's very frightening right now, but we're here to do whatever we can to find this person."
Derek eyed the young woman, gaze sincere but analysing.
"Do you have anyone of note who could be a person of interest?" He questioned her. Her eyes flitted to him.
"I... I'm not sure. There's a lot of people who treat us badly," She shifted around, folding her arms close to her body. "J-just five months ago there was a girl who got- um, assaulted because she rejected someone. She was like us, a bigger woman."
Derek's frown deepened.
"Is there records of the assault?"
She shook her head.
"Only of her initial report and visit to the hospital. She was um, too scared to say who it was." She scrunched her eyes shut for a second and shuddered. "H-her name was Amelia Dougherty."
A coldness sunk deep within your abdomen and you fought off the twitch of your lower lip. That was the first victim found dead four months ago. You offered a gentle squeeze of her arms.
"What's your name, lovey?" You said sweetly, feeling the young woman relax under your touch slightly.
"Carla. Carla Reynolds, ma'am."
Your thumbs soothingly brushed against her arms, hopeful she took it as encouragement.
"Well, Carla. I want to thank you for talking to us today. Right now though I need you to head home, protect yourself. Try your best not to go out and about alone if you can help it, yeah?" You instructed her and she nodded.
"Okay..."
With one last squeeze, you let go of her and smiled faintly. Beside you, Derek slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small rectangle of card.
"If you think of anything or see anything suspicious, call my number. Thank you for your time, Miss Reynolds." He said politely, but not unkindly and you both watched as she quickly left the bar. You exhaled softly and turned to the man beside you.
"We certainly know the possible trigger that started this whole murder spree." You murmured. The man beside you nodded and pulled his phone from his pocket with the intention to make a call.
"We'll head back to the station with what we know. I'm gonna ask Garcia for any files on assault reports within the last few months before the murders." He said as he pressed his phone to his ear.
"Sure, I'll just have one last sweep around."
As the man turned to make a call, you let your eyes drift around the room again to analyse everyone. None seemed to stand out, nor were there any other larger women around at this point. Distantly, you could hear Derek chatting lightly to Penny on the other end of the line but you paid little mind to it. But as you turned around to make your way outside a flurry of people entered the bar and, as a consequence, someone bumped into you and caused you to stumble.
"Hey! Watch it, man!" You heard your companion snap, but whoever it was had long since disappeared into the crowd. You sighed and fixed your clothing.
"It's fine, Der. We have more important things to focus on right now anyway." 
You could tell from the expression on Derek's face that he was reluctant to let this drop, but he didn't challenge you. And at this point he had finished the call anyway, so without any further delay the two of you headed outside to drive back to the station.
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There were no patterns between any of the assault victims from before the murders. All were a much wider range of women, a wider age range, varying body types and there was a multitude of perpetrators committing these assaults as opposed to one, who was suspected to be acting alone committing the murders. And this didn't even include male victims either. The first day of the case was chalking up to being a frustrating dead-end.
Standing in front of the whiteboard that was covered in tacked on pictures and scrawled out notes, you rubbed a hand over your face as you felt your brain turn into cotton in your skull. It was then you felt a presence beside you, causing you to stiffen slightly.
"Got anything?" You heard the soft, deep rumble of Hotch's voice. You exhaled. As you glanced to your side you realised how close to one another you were and the scent of his cologne hit your senses. It made your head feel a bit fuzzy.
"Other than what we already have, no. Maybe just theories on why the unsub picked out these women in particular." You murmured.
"Let's talk about them."
You turned to him with a slight nod, eyes reluctant to leave the board.
"Well, the photographs; the body language suggests a lot of discomfort. The women don't really like being the centre of attention. They're insecure." You began, motioning to the pictures of the victims from when they were still alive. "The unsub will have taken advantage of this, approaching the women in clubs and bars to flirt with them."
Hotch hummed, his focus entirely on you.
"It would seem likely, yes."
"But why go with the guy if they were so insecure?" A different voice chimed into the conversation, causing the two of you to turn. Behind you, Spencer stared with a furrowed brow and you sighed gently.
"If you're in a position where you've never had anyone show interest in you, or at least never seem genuine about it, it really messes with your self esteem. So having someone spend time with you flirting with you will inevitably cause you to drop your defense a bit. Because, well, you've never experienced this before." You turned to the board again and grabbed one of the markers to write some notes down. "With this I can only imagine the unsub is definitely above average in attractiveness but not so much to the point where the victims wouldn't trust their supposed interest."
"Most likely in the late twenties to early thirties. But we'll continue the profile with fresh eyes in the morning." Hotch said and he motioned to address the others. "We should stop for the night and check in to the hotel. We'll be up early in the morning."
There was a mutual sound of agreement from your colleagues but before you could say anything more to your unit chief, he was walking away briskly and pulling his phone out of his pocket to seemingly make a call. He never seemed to linger around you more than what was required of him. You puffed out a breath and capped the pen in your hand again before setting it down. To your left, you were aware of Emily approaching you.
"Sooo..." She began and you huffed.
"Oh, don't start."
"I didn't say anything!"
With a scowl you turned to her, noting the grin she was trying desperately to fend off. You folded your arms.
"Don't be sly with me, dumbass." You spat and she chuckled.
"You know I don't mean any ill-will. Just wondering how you're getting on."
You scoffed.
"Yeah, yeah sure you are."
"Well, I'm sure it's not easy working beside the man you're definitely not interested in!"
A tired grumble left you as you crossed the room to grab your casefile.
“Girl, we are literally trying to solve a serial murder case right now. I got no time to be thinking about anything but this.”
Emily chuckled and leaned her weight onto her hand braced on the table in the centre of the room.
“I know you’re struggling hard not to think about him though.”
You jabbed her with your elbow and scowled at her.
“That’s enough out of you. Now come on, we’re done for the day.” You said and tucked the manila folder under your arm, not missing the little chuckle from the raven haired woman. Once everyone was ready to depart, you found yourself in the same car as the girls and Reid, sitting in the back as you scrolled through your phone. There was a group chat you all used, originally created for strictly case related situations, but with Garcia around there was no way it was going to remain professional for long. And so now it was a mix of light-hearted conversation and sharing as well as more serious messages. The aforementioned had sent a series of messages in response to knowing you were all retiring for the night and you idly sent your own, typically the one to try and send things that would bring a smile to everyone’s faces. The lights from distant buildings and streetlamps would occasionally light up the interior of the car, illuminating your grip on your phone and the face of Reid sitting beside you in the back seat.
Before long, you had reached your destination following behind the car Derek, Rossi and Hotch were in. After parking up, you all grabbed your bags and trailed in behind the two eldest members of the team as they strode towards the reception desk. After a few minutes, the remainder of you decided to take up the couches in the foyer, realising Hotch and Rossi were taking longer than you thought to sort out the rooms. This was not a good sign, only further proven when they turned to the group, mild agitation on their faces. You sighed.
“Oh no, they don’t look too happy, do they?” You mumbled to Derek, leaning towards him. He chuckled.
“No, they do not. I can only imagine what that means.”
And soon enough the situation was brought to light.
“There was a mishap with the booking and there’s no longer enough rooms for one each,” Hotch said flatly, his shoulders slumped and his jaw clenched. “We’ll have to double up.”
Shit. Your eyes flicked to Emily immediately and your heart jolted upon realising she was staring at you with a widening grin. Oh no.
She pushed up off the couch and grabbed her bag, throwing the strap over her shoulder.
“Let’s go, JJ.” She declared and the blonde woman’s head shot up, gaze switching between the two of you. And much to your dismay, she too stood up and followed Emily to grab their room keys.
“Sure.”
Your eyes drifted towards Derek and Reid, feeling slightly hopeful knowing Derek didn’t often enjoy sharing with the young doctor. It startled you when he winked at you, then dragged the wild-haired man to stand up with him.
“C’mon, pretty boy. It’s you and me now.”
Reid seemingly had nothing to say, his brow crooked as slight confusion settled in. Now all that remained was the last two eldest members. Slowly, you turned to look at the eldest.
“...Rossi?”
“Actually, you’ll be sharing with me.” the man beside him spoke, drawing your attention. Hotch eyed you carefully, his brows pulled together slightly. You swallowed.
“I could always take the single room..?” you offered weakly.
“No, I would feel more at ease if you were sharing.”
Rossi raised his brows as he sniffed loudly, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.
“And I need my peace and quiet, so I will take the single.” he said and before you could protest the seasoned agent spun on his heel and retreated towards the elevators.
You sighed gently, slowly rising to your feet and awkwardly approaching Hotch.
“Okay… I guess that leaves us then.”
“Yes. If you don’t mind.” he said, brows pulled together. You held your tongue.
“I don’t.”
With a slight nod, he turned away to find the elevators and you quickly followed, pattering after him with your go-bag held at your side. Hotch reached the elevators quickly, holding the doors open for you then pressing the number for your floor. The ride up was silent, painfully so and despite being less than a minute long it felt as though the seconds had been dragged out to an hour long. Tiredly, you dumped your bag in front of you, eyes wandering around the steel walls around you the longer the ride took. Should you speak? You had no idea, unsure what to even say to the man. As though feeling the same discomfort, Hotch cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to another in the empty space the both of you were in. The chime of the elevator stopping to open its doors startled you, blinking a few times at the sound.
As you turned your attention to your bag, Hotch’s hand appeared in view and briskly grabbed the handles of your bag and picked it up. You gasped, looking up at him and realising he was watching you. You drew in a sharp breath.
“Um, thanks.”
“Mhm.”
Once again, he held the elevator door open with his elbow, his hands full with your bag and his. You didn’t comment on it, instead smiling sheepishly and uttering another ‘thank you’ as you passed him. He led the way again, stalking down the carpeted corridor until he stopped in front of a random door. He placed the bags down and made a move to unlock the door, the keys jangling being the only noise in that moment. You both heard the click of the lock coming loose and, after picking the bags up again, Hotch pushed the door open to step inside. But as you followed, you bumped into his solid form and earned a quiet grunt from him, not expecting him to have stopped so suddenly.
“What’s wrong?” you wondered aloud, inching around him to see the problem- oh. Hm.
One king-sized bed sat in the centre of the room against the left wall, not the two beds you were both expecting. Fuck.
“I’ll return to the front desk and see if there’s anything they can do to change this.” Hotch said and you turned to look back at him.
“You know there isn’t anything available, though. Let’s just, um, head in and sort out in the morning.”
The longer you stared at the seeming displeasure on his face, the worse you began to feel about sharing with him. Great, he probably was regretting this now.
“Are you certain?”
It made you frown.
“I’m tired, sir. I just want to have a shower and get some rest.” you muttered. He let out a heavy sigh, deepening the uncomfortable feeling in your lower abdomen, but relented by following you inside the room and closing the door when he had deposited the bags onto the bed.
“You can take the first shower.” he offered quietly and your face twitched into a miniature smile.
“Thanks. Won’t be long. You can choose which side to sleep on.”
Unpacking your toiletries and your (regretful choice) of pyjamas, you tiptoed towards the shower room after kicking your shoes off. Hotch had already made claim of the table in the room, spreading out his work across the surface. You closed the door behind you quickly when he shrugged his suit jacket off and loosened his tie, electing to restrict yourself from seeing him in anything less than his standard clothing for your own wellbeing.
You began to undress, untucking your shirt from your trousers, when you finally noticed something truly off.
Your FBI ID was gone. With one brow quirked, you searched through your pockets and in your toiletry bag, expecting to have maybe misplaced it in a sleepy state. But no… You swallowed thickly and opened the shower room door again. Automatically, Hotch’s head moved to your direction from where he was seated on the side of the bed nearest the hotel room door and he tilted his head.
“What is it?”
You cleared your throat.
“U-uhm… My ID; it’s gone.”
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Wooooooo spooooky idk idk I HOPE PPL ENJOYED THIS FIRST PART it's not gonna be jolly from here on out until the end 🥴 if you'd like to be tagged let me know!
Taglist:
@southernraven, @deludedfruitcake , @tgskitten , @zaddyhotch , @cm-slvts-31 , @dins-cyarika @midnghtprentiss
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little-diable · 4 months
Text
A Losing Game - Professor Aaron Hotchner (Profiling 101 Series, Part 8/?)
Chapter eight, here we go. I hope you enjoy the way this moves into, I can't wait to hear your thoughts on this! Thank y'all for the love on the past chapters! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: The reader enrolls in professor Hotchner's class "Profiling 101", a man she has always looked up to, a man who treats her like an asshole from day one. Will her need for academic validation manage to push the two closer together? Will her bright mind push her into the world of Aaron Hotchner and the BAU team? Will he manage to keep his distance before the world he tries to protect her from can get its grasp on her?
Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, shower sex, some angst due to the kidnapping, regular CM stuff
Pairing: Professor!Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader (2k words)
Profiling 101 Series Masterlist
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Nine
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It took her a while to wake, forcing her eyes to stay shut, not daring to give away her awakened mind should she not be alone. With a quiet exhale leaving (y/n), she tried to focus on her other senses, on what she could feel, smell, and hear. But she was surrounded by complete silence, nothing could be heard, no cars, no beeping sounds that could indicate any machines, not even the sound of somebody breathing.
She felt the hard chair she was sitting on pressing against her aching back, her wrists unable to move due to the tape that was burning into her skin, keeping her glued to the chair. Fuck, panic arose in her system, not being able to move made the whole thing even more complicated, unable to fight off whoever had taken her.
It had been too dark inside the SUV to make out the features of her stalker, only his unfamiliar, deep voice had rang in her ears before he had knocked her out. She hadn’t even gotten any time to struggle, face falling forwards against the dark console, swallowed by the darkness within seconds before Aaron could come rescue her. 
Aaron – oh god, Aaron. (Y/n) knew that he’d blame himself for letting her out of his sight, leaving her side for just a minute too long. Had he seen her stalker drive the car away from the BAU? Or had he thought that she had driven off on her own? No, he knew what had happened, they were already looking for her – they had to be. 
Chills ran down her spine, a sensation so strong, (y/n) could no longer keep her eyes closed. She had to blink a few times to adjust to her dark surroundings. The room was small, looking like a prison cell, with only her chair, a table, and a small lamp that barely managed to alight even half of the room.
Where the hell was she?
Her gaze flickered down to the black tape that had been wrapped around her wrists, glueing her to the chair. With a huff breaking through (y/n), she tried to tug on her restraints, knowing that she’d eventually be able to break free if she’d get enough time to find her strength. Her body felt weak, leaving her to wonder how long it had been since her stalker had gotten his hands on her.
Fuck, she had been careless, in retrospect she should have been all too aware of the dangers lurking outside. She couldn’t help but curse herself for leaving Aaron’s side, for declining Derek’s offer, she would have been safe with them around. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 
(Y/n) didn’t get any more time to curse her stupid actions, eyes flickering to the door which was pushed open. The man who stared at her looked unfamiliar, a stranger she hadn’t ever crossed paths with before – at least not willingly. She wasn’t sure if she should feel relieved that he was a stranger, or scared, unable to tell what he’d do to her. 
“Well, finally, sweetheart, you had me worried.” He wasn’t much taller than she was, with brown hair slicked back, and dark eyes hidden behind round glasses. The guy must have been in his mid-twenties, a lanky figure she could take down in a fight if she’d only get the chance to. “Now, don’t look at me like that, I warned you, didn’t I? You should have been a good girl, should have listened to my warnings, to the rules, but you’ve never been good at doing that, huh? Of course not, you’re sleeping with your professor after all.
A humourless laugh left the man, dripping with jealousy and hatred. Fear thumped through her veins as he took a step closer, forcing her to part her lips to flush some water down her throat. Perhaps she could use his anger to her advantage, perhaps she could try to rile him up just enough to force him to cut her restraints – she’d only need one chance to fight her way out of this.
“Who are you?” Her voice was monotone, not dripping with anything that could give away her fear, the uneasiness she was held hostage by. She kept her eyes on him, not daring to look away even for one second.
“That’s not important right now, darling. What counts is that I’ve got you here with me, and well, I’ll need to thank the lovely Penelope Garcia for that. She helped me get you after all.”
……
“Hotch, c’mon man, at least sit down for a few minutes. We’ll get your girl.” Aaron’s coffee-coloured eyes met Derek’s wide ones, letting go of an exhausted huff as he slowly sat down on the chair. It has been over six hours since (y/n) had been taken, forced to watch the video over and over again, watching how a masked figure had broken into the SUV, how (y/n) had stepped into the car all too obliviously, and how the SUV had hastily left the parking lot moments later. 
“Alright, so we can rule out Lorey, we can rule out her family,” Emily repeated what they had put together hours ago, letting go of a defeated huff. 
“So, we have nothing.” Aaron let go of another sigh, eyes momentarily squeezed shut to try and collect himself. This is what he had been fearing all this time, after losing Haley Aaron had known that he needed to be even more careful, that he couldn’t take any risks, for his sake and Jack’s. 
“Garcia, anything you could pick up on the CCTV feed?” His dark eyes snapped towards Penelope, studying her tired features, not used to seeing her this quiet. She kept her teary eyes focused on the screen, not replying verbally, only shaking her head. With Derek’s hand placed on Peleope’s shoulder, they found themselves engulfed by silence. A silence that left their insides churning, knowing that time was working against them.
……
She helped me get you after all. She helped me get you after all. She helped me get you after all.
Bile rose in (y/n)’s throat as his words kept ringing in her ears. Penelope? It couldn’t be, not the one she had instantly clicked with. It couldn’t be, not the sunshine that had brightened the darkness she had been trapped in. It couldn’t be, it simply couldn’t be. 
She needed to distract herself, needed to get a grip before she’d spiral. Her thoughts brought her back to Aaron, how he had touched her only hours ago, in the early morning, pressed against the dark shower tiles. 
“Hold on to me, I’ve got you, baby.” Aaron’s raspy voice left her gasping, choking on the moans he forced from her. He had her pinned against the wall, hands holding her up as she slung her legs around his waist. With their eyes holding contact, he pushed into her, making them moan in unison.
Their hearts were racing, minds silenced by the intense sensations washing through them. She wondered if she’d ever get used to feeling him this close, deep inside of her, pressing against her stomach. 
Aaron fucked her without holding back, his thrusts were fast, rough, and calculated, knowing that they couldn’t waste any time in the morning. The open-mouthed kiss they shared managed to swallow some of their sounds, leaving them clinging to one another. 
“Fuck, Aaron, I can’t.” Her pulsing bundle was overstimulated from the two orgasms he had pushed through her only minutes ago, pressed to the mattress with his face buried between her thighs. No man had ever managed to make her cum this fast, this hard, an insatiable need that guided the two of them on. 
“You can, and you will, baby.” His voice dropped with possessiveness, a dark touch that left her toes curling. Fuck, (y/n) knew that she was close already, once again letting go with a moan clawing through her without another warning. 
Aaron kept fucking her, chasing his own high with his eyebrows furrowed together and his fingers digging into the flesh of her ass. She could tell that he was about to cum, pulling out of her at the last second, watching his cum paint her lower stomach. 
Fuck, she needed to get back to Aaron, to touch him again, to feel him again, to speak to him again. She had waited too long to finally be with him, and nobody could take that from her, and especially not her stalker.
As if the man had heard her thoughts, he waltzed back into the room with a smug grin glued to his lips. He wore a suit, trying to come off as sophisticated, as if he was just another normal guy, not the sick and twisted bastard who was holding her hostage. Only as he placed her breakfast down for her did (y/n)'s eyes focus on the badge dangling from his neck, clearly stating that he was working for the FBI. 
The FBI? Had he been that close the whole time?
“It’s time for me to go to work, I was called in earlier because the oh-so-valuable assistant team member of the BAU is missing. Of course, they won’t find her, especially not since I’ll be the one supporting them.” The smirk he wore on his thin lips left (y/n) choking on her angry gasps, trying to keep quiet. He wanted to get a reaction out of her, wanted to rile her up – but (y/n) wouldn’t give in, she couldn’t. “You should eat something while I’m gone. And there’s a bucket for you, I’m sure you’ll eventually need the toilet.”
“Cut me loose, asshole, otherwise I won’t be able to reach the food or the bucket.” A raspy laugh left the guy, slowly stalking closer to (y/n). His breath fanned her skin, leaving her covered in goosebumps, torn between disgust and fear.
“You’re a smart girl, (y/n), I’m sure you’ll figure something out. I’ll see you tonight, babe.” 
……
“Guys, this is Kacey, he’s from the Tech Department, he’s one of the best down there, I thought it’d be good for Penelope to have some extra help.” JJ’s voice echoed through the room, she shot Kacey a grateful smile as he pushed his glasses up his nose. 
“Hi guys, it’s good to finally meet the rest of you, Penelope always speaks so highly of you. I’ll do anything to help you find her, I promise.” He nodded at the team before he was pulled in for a tight hug by Penelope. She and Kacey had crossed paths a while ago, spending some time in her office together as they talked about shared interests, making plans to go out with their friends together, and building a friendship she deeply cherished. 
“Thank you, we’ve got no time to lose, it’s been over twelve hours by now.” Aaron’s voice was emotionless, no longer dripping with the fear he had shown his team, no longer appearing vulnerable in front of a man who was a stranger to him. “Garcia, you two will keep on following the unsub on the feed, the rest of us will go back to (y/n)’s apartment, we’ll comb through it again, and see if we missed something.”
“You found him on the feed?” Neither Penelope nor the others seemed to pick up on the surprise filling every word that rolled off Kacey’s tongue, eyebrows furrowed. 
“I did! He thought he was sneaky, but he missed a few cameras, it’s not much, but maybe we can eventually trace him back to his work, his car, or even his home." Penelope shot Aaron a hopeful smile, clinging to the smallest detail. "Thank you for helping us, really, I know if somebody can push us in the right direction, it’ll be you, Kacey.”
.……
Sweat was pooling on (y/n)’s forehead, lips bloody from the way she had pierced her teeth into the thin skin. She had lost count of the amount of tries she had used to free her aching wrists, without any luck so far.
“Fuck, c’mon!" Tears dripped down her cheeks and a deep, shaky exhale left her, trying to keep herself somewhat collected. With another breath inhaled into her burning lungs, (y/n) collected all her strength to try and rip her wrists free. One last try. It took her a second to realise that she had managed to break through the layers of tape on her left wrist, having to shake her numb fingers a few times before she could free her other wrist. 
She’d get out of here, for the sake of herself, for the sake of Aaron.
123 notes · View notes
itsmebytch001 · 7 months
Text
Caught Tagging:
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When Aaron opened his front door he did not expect to see his daughter in hand cuffs along with his brother looming over her in his doorway.
Aaron: "Are you fucking joking? Your joking right?" He asked with you sat on the leather couch still in hand cuffs waiting to draw ether your fathers or Uncle's attention to free you from these bracelets.
Jeff: "Nope, I'm not caught her tagging some wall so I thought I bring her to you"
Aaron: "In hand cuffs?"
Jeff: "Yeah in hand cuffs"
Aaron: "...Is this because of that time I left you with by high street to take the fall for me when we threw up on that wall?"
Jeff: "Aaron that was 20 years ago-"
Aaron: "Now your taking it out on the young ones-"
Jeff: "Oh my god, can you shut up and listen!?"
Aaron: "This city's got rapists and murders just runnin around but you took the time to arrest your niece like she killed somebody"
Jeff: "She tagged a government building!" He yelled throwing up his hands exuberated.
Aaron: "Do you even hear yourself right now?! What is your wife gonna think once I tell her you arrested your niece for tagging! Or your son, huh? What's Miles gonn-"
Jeff: "I did not arrest her, but I still could"
Aaron: "Your gonna give your family a record?"
Jeff: "I can't just let her slide because were family"
Aaron: "For tagging?"
Jeff: "For tagging"
Aaron: "Your gonna give your baby niece a criminal record...for tagging?"
Jeff: "If I catch her on it again, sure"
Aaron: "I'm not sure if your my brother man"
Jeff: "Look, I'm not trying to be the bad guy"
Aaron: "You put my child in fucking handcuffs!"
Jeff: "You don't discipline her! You see her tagging shit, skipping school and you don't even ground her!"
Aaron: "Oh my God, Please get out of my face with this shit"
Jeff: "I'm not leaving until you ground her!"
Aaron: "Don't tell me how to raise my child, I only see you like twice a year, mild your fucking self"
Jeff: "I-"
Aaron: "Outta my house"
Jeff: "What?"
Aaron: "Out of my house, now"
...
...
Jeff: "Fine"
Aaron: "FINE!"
Jeff: " FINE!"
He yelled while slamming the door. Once Jeff had stormed out Aaron looked back at you and realised you were still in hand cuffs, he quickly opened his door to yell down the hallway.
Aaron: "You really gonna leave your niece over here with hand cuffs on?! HUH!?"
Jeff, from down the hall: "Get them off your self!"
Aaron slammed the door himself and sat himself onto the couch with you.
Y/n: "Your two argue like teen girls"
Aaron:"... shut up, you don't understand what it's like to have siblings"
Y/n: "There's still time, Diana's been talking about having another bab-"
Aaron: "I'd rather die"
198 notes · View notes
bubblergoespop · 4 months
Text
My Top Elliott Quotes
sunshine and elliott reunion WHENNNN?? @selene567 he’s hereee, sorry it took a while ♡
“I wanna snuggle okay? Sue me.”
“I was kind of joking earlier when I said they gave off culty vibes, but I don’t think it’s a joke at this point.”
“My powers can do more than just bring you peaceful sleep. I love them for their ability to do that, but they can also bring you wonder, and mystery, and strength, and joy. They’re yours, Sunshine. Always.”
“I’m glad you think it’s beautiful. But if you ask me—and if you won’t, I will—I think you are so much more amazing than any dreamscape I could create.”
“Do I have to send you back to your self-inflicted grocery store hell?”
“Since when do you have to date somebody to cuddle them? I mean that just seems like you are drastically reducing your list of potential cuddle partners for no reason.”
“I mean if I just come out and say it, I’ll be denying us both the opportunity for at least a few more years of reciprocated but undisclosed pining for one another that could easily be solved by an honest conversation but one that neither of us is prepared to make for fear of rejection…”
“It wasn’t a game to me. You aren’t a game and you aren’t some prize to win.”
“I call you Sunshine because that’s what you feel like to me. Like warmth. Like a guiding light. I literally smile when I think about you like some hallmark bullshit.”
“God, you’re fucking cute.”
“You’re all I have now Aaron, please help.”
“Congratulations. You unlocked a portion of my tragic backstory, brave traveler.”
“‘Yes’? That’s all I get? Well sure, it’s enough, but where’s the weeping, where’s the drama, where’s you cutting me off with a kiss like some kind of movie? OW, why are you hitting me?”
“Thank you, Sunshine. Well… for giving me a chance. A decision you very well may come to regret, but if that’s the case, it’s really not my problem.”
“I’m working on it, I promise. For you.”
“I think people are beautiful because they’re complex, and they can surprise you in a million little ways, every day.”
“I’m probably pronouncing half of these wrong, because, ya know. I’m trash.”
“That one there—that’s called Caelum. It’s one of the dimmest ones. It’s not a very exciting one, the name just means chisel. But the word also means Heaven, or Sky. I like that. It’s just a little guy, but… I feel like it’s got some cool secrets.”
“The dreams are always sweet when you’re in them.”
“I just want them to be safe.”
“Sorry, baby. Kiss to make it better.”
“I love my powers. But the waking reality that I have with you is so much better than the things I make. Because that reality is true. And I’ve got you in it.”
“‘Slew’ is a word, shut up.”
“Urgency? You say that like I'm annoyed my Starbucks order is taking a while, this is my partner's life we're talking about, ‘urgency’ doesn't begin to describe it.”
“No. No, I don’t think you’re crazy. I know you, sunshine. I trust you.”
“If they’ve been trying to use you in some way, I’ll make their life a living hell. They’ll wish they could wake up.”
“We’ll… figure this out. Together. That’s the part that I care about. You, Sunshine.”
“Fuck physics, fuck law of nature, just give me M. C. Escher, baby”
“Oh you think I sound whiny now? You don’t know how whiny I can get.”
“Oh good. I wanna hold you as I pass the fuck out.”
“Hey, but then again, we also might just get some looks because people know a power couple when they see one.”
“This feels like the magical equivalent to ‘we’ve been trying to reach you about your vehicle’s extended warranty’, just now with a fun culty, closed-community spin.”
“You feel good. No improvements necessary there. Well I mean maybe there are a few things I could fix—“
“Fuck off, Blake!”
“I know you hate me, you don’t have to remind me.”
“I’m just here for good dreams and good vibes, you know?”
“You’re doing so good, baby.”
56 notes · View notes
alisbackalleybbq · 1 year
Text
Crush (Requested)
TW:  Mentions of violence against women.
This is not beta’d or edited. This was requested by @imagine-all-the-fandoms​.  I hope you like it and I’m sorry it took me so long.
“ Heeey ! Finally I found a blog writing for Tim 😍 would you do one for me where the reader is an officer as well and crushing on Tim (and vise versa) but both are too stubborn to admit and everyone kinda makes fun of them. Then during a call, she gets kidnapped and hurt and Tim is furious till she is saved and he makes sure to take care of her. Some fluff and kisses when they finally admit their feelings 💝💝 this would be great and TYSM !”
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“When are you going to stop staring at her and ask her out already?”  Nyla asked Tim.  He was standing at the back of the briefing room, arms crossed, glaring at Aaron Thorson who had said something to you that made you throw your head back and laugh at.
“I’m not staring,” Tim snapped.  “We’re here to learn about a dangerous op.  Not tell jokes.”
“Mmmm, okay,” Nyla smirked.  
“She just made P2.  I can’t get involved even if I wanted to.”  Tim sighed.
“I never thought I’d see the day that Tim Bradford was scared.”  Angela quipped.
“I’m not scared.”  Tim scoffed.  “I’m being smart.”
“Smart by letting the woman you have a crush on get away?”  Nyla scowled.
“I don’t have a crush on her!  She’s a subordinate.”  Tim scowled back.
“You’re with Metro now.  You’re not her sergeant anymore.  You’re just making excuses.”  Angela rolled her eyes.
Nyla tsked at Tim and shook her head.  “Tim ‘the Coward’ Bradford.” 
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“You’re just going to have to man up and ask him out.”  Aaron said to you.
“I’m not a man, Aaron.”  You said sarcastically.
“You know what I mean,” he replied, glaring at you jokingly. 
“Why would I ask him out?”  You questioned.  “He’s Tim Bradford.  He could have any woman on or off the force that he wanted.  He’s not going to want me.”
“Please!  I’ve seen the way he looks at you.  I’ve seen the way you two interact.  Stop being a scaredy cat and just ask him out.”  Aaron urged.
“I’ll pass, Aaron.  If that makes me a scaredy cat, that’s fine.  But I’m not going to risk my ego on being rejected by Bradford.”  You replied.
“Listen up,” Sgt. Grey took the podium.
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Tim was out patrolling the area where the suspect in a brutal attack on a female jogger was reported to live.  The briefing that morning had left him angry that somebody in his city had come up behind women jogging in the park and attacked them.  So far there had been five victims.  Tim wanted this creep off the streets yesterday.  It didn’t help that he saw red when Aaron had put his hand on your back.  The ribbing from Nyla and Angela had also played into his anger but it got him thinking about you.  
“Units on the City Wide,” the dispatch voice over the radio cut through his thoughts, “possible officers in distress.  Seven-Adam-15 is not responding to Status Checks.”
Tim’s blood ran cold.  You were in 7-Adam-15 today with Nolan.  “What is their last known location?”  Tim radioed back.
“They checked out at 759 College Avenue on a noise complaint.”  Dispatch answered.
“Copy, I’m enroute.”  He flipped his sirens on and sped toward College Avenue.  
When he arrived, he saw the shop parked out in front of a house with the numbers 759 on it.  Tim flew out of the car when he noticed Nolan laying on the sidewalk.
“Nolan!  Nolan!”  Tim yelled, quickly scanning for injuries.  John Nolan groaned in response.  “Nolan, wake up! What happened?”
“Ugh,” Nolan squinted at Tim and put his hand to his head.  
“I  need an RA to this location for an injured officer.”  Tim radioed in.  “What happened?  Where’s your boot?”  Tim couldn’t bring himself to say your name.  If it was bad news, he thought somehow referring to you as a boot would lessen the blow.
“She knocked on the door.  The guy came out and hit me with a bat.  He grabbed her and dragged her into the house.  I tried to radio before I blacked out but…” John trailed off, the worry, anger, and fear evident on his face.  “It’s the guy from the park.”
“The one attacking the joggers?” Tim clarified.
“Yes.”  John tried to sit up.
“Whoa, just stay down.”  Tim put his hand on John’s chest and pushed him back onto the ground.  
“I have to go get her.”  John groaned.
“Dispatch, I’m going to need immediate backup at this location.  Officer kidnapped.”  Tim unholstered his gun and went toward the front door.
“You should wait for backup!”  John called then winced in pain.
Tim ignored him and went to the front door, pounding his fist against the door as hard as he could.  “LAPD!  Open the door!”  He commanded.  He waited for what felt like a year but it was only a minute before he tried the doorknob.  He rolled his eyes at himself, of course the door was locked.  He ran back to his shop and grabbed a window breaker.  He didn’t want to waste any time banging against the glass that might not break easily.  Tim quickly used the tool to crack the glass in the door window.  He used his radio to break it fully and make room for his hand to slip in.  He didn’t even feel the jagged glass cutting deep into his skin.  He unlocked the door and entered the house, gun at the ready.
“LAPD!”  He shouted.  “Come out now with your hands up!”  There were some crashing sounds from the basement.   He ran down the stairs and was shocked at what he saw.  You were bleeding from various wounds around your head and face, there was an angry red mark on your throat, your uniform was ripped, and there was blood seeping out of a wound in your chest.  
You were straddling the suspect who was sprawled on the floor, still fighting.  “You.  Are.  Under.  Arrest.”  You declared, each word punctuated by your elbow connecting with the suspect’s body somewhere.
“Are you okay?”  Tim asked.
“No!”  You growled out.  “He won’t stop resisting.”  Just as you finished speaking, the suspect hit you in the face with a closed fist.  
“Son of a bitch!”  You cried out.  Before you could register what was happening, you were looking up at the ceiling, having been flipped on your back.  You rolled over to see Tim flinging the suspect onto his stomach.
“You’re under arrest!”  Tim yelled.  “Put your hands behind your back.”  The suspect complied right away and started quietly crying. 
The next five minutes were a blur.  Nyla showed up to haul the suspect up the stairs and outside the house.  He was being checked over by medics.  Tim helped you up the stairs and made sure you were sitting in an ambulance before he went to check on John.
Tim was quickly back by your side.  “How’s Nolan?”  You croaked out, your throat feeling like it was on fire.  You held an ice pack to the side of your face.  The paramedic was checking a deep cut on your chest.
“He’s okay.  They said he most likely has a concussion but they’re going to take him to the hospital for tests.”  Tim replied.  “How’re you?”
You nodded softly.  “I’ll live.” 
“You’re a hell of a fighter.”  The paramedic said.  “You beat that guy up all by yourself?”
“Yeah,” you gave the attractive paramedic a shy smile.  
“That’s badass.”  He replied.
“Anyway,” Tim growled.  
“Tim,” you gasped, grabbing his hand.  His heart fluttered at the contact.  “You’re hurt.”
“What?”  He asked, confused, noticing blood on his arm.  
“You’re cut.”  You said.
“It’s nothing.”  Tim shook his head.  
“Those might need stitches,”  The paramedic commented, looking over Tim’s cuts.
“I’ve had worse.”  Tim tried to shake it off.
“Well it’s a good thing I’m going to the hospital.”  You said.  “You can ride with me.”
“Nah,” Tim waved you off.  “I’m fine.”
“Please,” you grabbed his hand again.  “I hate hospitals.  If you’re there, it’ll make me feel better.”
Tim smiled at you and nodded.  “Okay, fine.”
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Tim was annoyed.  It had taken 45 minutes for him to get the cuts on his arm stitched up.  That was 45 minutes that he was away from you.  Forty-five minutes that you were stuck in the hospital, a place you hated, without him there to make you feel better.
He growled all the way from the room he’d been in to the room where you were.  You were lying in a hospital bed, bruised and bandaged up.
“Hey,” he said softly, sitting next to your bed and grabbing your hand.  “How’re you feeling?”
“Like I got hit by a truck.”  You smiled softly.  
“You’re shaking,” Tim pointed out.
You nodded.  “I can’t make it stop.”
“Adrenaline is wearing off.  You had to put up a hell of a fight.”  Tim brushed some hair away from your forehead.  
“I was so scared.”  You told him, tears pooling in your eyes.  “I thought I was going to die.  Then I heard you and I knew I was safe.”
“If it makes you feel better, I was scared too.”  Tim confessed.
You scowled at him.  “You were?”  He nodded but didn’t say anything.  “Why?”
“I didn’t know what I was going to find.  I didn’t know if you were hurt or…” he trailed off.
“Yeah.  That’s one thing about us cops,” you said.  “We’re a family and we never want to see one of us hurt.”
“It’s not just that.”  Tim said, taking a deep breath.  “I…I didn’t want to find you hurt.  I didn’t want anything bad to have happened to you.  All I could think about was that if you were…I wouldn’t be able to tell you that I want to take you out on a date…if you want.”
“You want to date me?”  You were incredulous.  Was this really happening?
“I have for a long time.  I just didn’t have the guts to say anything.  I was afraid you’d reject me.” 
“You were afraid I’d reject you?  Tim Bradford was scared that I’d reject him?”  
“According to Nyla my name is now Tim ‘the Coward’ Bradford.”  He rolled his eyes and smiled.
You giggled.  “I’d love to go out with you, Tim.  I’ve been attracted to you for…well, since the first time I met you.”
“You were attracted to me after I yelled at you for spilling coffee on my uniform?”  He chuckled.
“Yeah.  Right after that, I saw you kneel down to talk to a child so you were on the same level as him.  I knew there was more to you than an asshole.”  
“That’s…flattering.”  Tim said.  He cupped your cheek and leaned in.  He softly brushed his lips against yours.  You gently kissed him back. Tim broke the kiss and sat back in his chair next to your bed.  He picked up a brown paper bag and held it out to you.
“Please tell me that’s an Elvis burger from Mrs. C’s.”  You sighed.
“Extra bananas.”  Tim smirked, handing you the bag.
205 notes · View notes
chrisevansleftpeck · 1 year
Text
Not Really My Scene
Word Count: 1.6k
Content Warning: slight sexual assault (hand placed on back), alcohol, makeout
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You entered the bar wearing a small black dress and a frown. Penelope, Emily, and JJ had managed to trick you into wearing heels and a tiny dress, very unlike you. Your shoulders, back and collarbones were visible to all, making you paranoid every eye was on you. 
You followed the girls to the table where the rest of the team sat, allowing the girls to pick their seats first, leaving one side of the booth beside Morgan and Spencer. Morgan had already started chatting with the girls and Aaron, but Spencer seemed to focus on you settling in beside him.
You felt his eyes on you, your neck and the way your hair fell on it, the straps of your little black dress. You turned your head to him, catching him off-guard. “Hi.” You laughed. You hadn’t actually planned what you were going to say to him, you just wanted to say something.
“Oh, yes, hi.” Spencer stuttered, face flustered being caught red-handed. Spencer looked down at his fidgety hands in his lap.
“You look nice.” You said, studying his clothes, his green plaid vest over his plain collared long sleeved shirt. He wore a gray tie, peeking out from under the vest. 
Spencer let you study him for a moment, his outfit, hair, and face. You two were practically having your own moment at the table.
“He tried to bribe me with a cat!” Penelope yelled, talking about some date gone wrong.
Both you and Spencer turned back into the conversation. Goddamn cats.
“It worked right?” You asked, turning your head towards the bar after seeing Emily sip her drink.
“No, no, no! Boys and kitties are cute but I can hold my own. Men are threatened by me! He thought he’d have to bribe me-” 
Penelope continued to chatter as you felt Spencer closer to your side before whispering to you, “Want a drink?” He asked.
You eyed the bar once more then smiled at him. “Maybe a sip.” You said, then promptly slipped out of the booth. 
You made your way through the crowded dance floor or screams and drunken singing to the bar. Quickly, you noticed two women at the left end and tried to squeeze in a spot next to them, away from the loud drunk men. 
“Vodka and Soda, please.” You ordered, watching the bartender prepare your drink. He was slower, an employee in training. 
While waiting you felt a presence creep up behind you, and a hand placed on your bare back. “Hey sweetheart,” a man with dark filthy brown hair and a messy beard approached you, rubbing your back. You turned your head to see the women behind you not notice. “You come here with somebody?” He asked as you tried to spin in your chair to face him directly so that his hand couldn’t stay on your back. 
With the one spin you saw Spencer walked up behind you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and his other hand around your waist, squeezing you a little to tell you you’re okay. “Hey baby,” Spencer said rather loudly in front of the strange man. The man finally finished your drink, Spencer grabbed it and handed it to you. “Let’s get back to the table, huh?” He suggested with pride in his acting, so unlike his usual nervousness.
He walked you past the table, beside the exit door, finally handing your vodka and soda to you.
“You okay?” Spencer asked, reverting back to his true self. You itched your back, remembering the man’s hand placement. “Um, yeah, yeah. I’m good. I’m pretty good.” You said, clearly very uncomfortable, retracing and covering the skin he touched.
Spencer frowned, just as upset as you. “Sorry I touched you, I wanted to get you out of there.” Something about his apology confused you. You felt cleaner once Spencer had touched you, like for a minute the other guy’s dirty hands on your back was undone.
“You don’t have to ask to touch me. I trust you.” You told him, eyes beginning to water a bit. You sniffled, “I’m sorry I didn’t think I’d care about a stupid hand on my back. Shouldn’t have worn this dress.” You looked down at yourself, ashamed. 
“No, no, Y/N, what you’re wearing doesn’t matter. At all. Don’t say that. You always look this beautiful, it’s nothing special, okay? The truth of it is that he would’ve approached you anyway.” Spencer went off, almost upset with you for blaming yourself.
“Okay,” You exhaled sharply then whispered quietly, “I don’t wanna be here anymore.”
Spencer understood immediately, clubs and bars weren’t exactly his scene either. “I’ll take you home, I’m tired of this too.” Spencer said, walking back over to the table and explaining he and you were tired and you were getting a bit stressed. He collected your purse and phone then returned back to you by the exit door.
He opened the door for you, handing you your things. Your fingers brushed his cold ones, sliding against his palm as you grabbed your phone. Electricity, stress, overstimulation, excitement- it all rushed over you at once.
Spencer walked you to his car, starting it and turning on the seat warmer for you. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drive, Spencer.” 
Spencer laughed, “You doubt me?”
“No! I bet you’re good. We’ll see.” You said before shooting Penelope a text, affirming you were okay.
Spencer drove away from the club and onto the road, carefully trying to avoid potholes and rough patches and you sat very silent, beginning to nod off.
You eventually woke up in Spencer’s car, in your apartment complex’s parking garage. You gave a little yawn as you gained consciousness and looked over to see Spencer with a book in his lap, the car in park. 
“Good morning.” Spencer said, still turning the pages of his book. You looked at the time displayed on the car. 2 A.M. You’d had him waiting for you to wake up at two A.M.
“Spencer,” You sat up straight, unbuckling. “You should have woken me up! You need to go home.” Spencer folded his book in his lap and stretched back to place it in the back seat. You couldn’t help but watch his neck and jaw from the side, leaning over as he placed the book. Your stare made him pause as he came back, leaning close to your seat. 
“Um, right, right. You were uh sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you, you seemed tired.” You’d completely forgotten about the comment you made just five minutes ago. 
“Spencer.” You said, more as a statement.
“Yes?” He looked at you in awe of how beautiful you were, just waking up with tired eyes.
“You could make my day a lot better.” You whispered, your breath clearly shaking. 
Spencer immediately was interested. He’d do anything for you, especially after the day you’d had. 
“You should kiss me.” Spencer was shocked, frozen over the console, just between your seat and his. You slowly put your hands to his cheeks, making sure everything you were about to do was clear so he had time to say no if he wanted to. 
Your lips hovered over his, feeling his hot breath against yours. Your lips parted, about to ask him a question when he took it as an opportunity to kiss you. He ran into your lips, his soft and wet and warm against yours. He smelled so good on you too, his exhales so satisfying to your ears as the two of you continued kissing. Spencer found his hand in your hair, grabbing, tugging lightly, but you had to pull away before getting too carried away. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Spencer huffed and apologized, but couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off of his face. 
“It’s okay,” you couldn’t contain your smiles either, “I think this is my favorite day.”
Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed, “Out of what? The year, month?”
You didn't really know, so you just told him how it was. “I don’t know, just my favorite day.”
“You know I don’t understand you sometimes?” Spencer laughed, looking directly into your eyes. You almost began to worry for a second, never wanting to confuse him. “That’s why I like you. I have to know you because I can’t read you.” 
“Oh.” You almost didn’t know what to say. No one said such nice things about you usually.
“It’s good- it’s good. I mean it in a good- great way.” Spencer reassured you, touching your hand gently. 
“Thank you. I don’t think I’m smart enough to ever comprehend your mind.” You laughed, so did Spencer. 
“I don’t think anybody can, but I think you understand me.”
“That’s very true. You are not your mind.” That sentence felt good to Spencer. A piece of him needed that.  
“Thank You.” Spencer said, his voice cracking slightly. “Don’t know where that came from, sorry.” 
“Hm. I think it’s cute.” You whispered. You studied Spencer’s face once more, his curly hair, his shiny lips, his soft face. You only wondered how he would describe your face.
“Hey, let’s get you inside.” He said, smiling, remembering his original purpose here, which was not to makeout with you in his car. 
“I can’t move.” You said, trying your best to stay completely serious without breaking.
Spencer furrowed his brows, “What?”
“Can’t move, I need a kiss first.” You said, watching Spencer roll his eyes.
He lifted your chin gently, hovering in front of you for a moment, teasing before finally giving in and kissing you. “I don’t mind, I needed one too.”
998 notes · View notes
moonlightspencie · 6 months
Text
locked it down
part 12 of ‘the sweetest con’
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader
Word Count: 1.2k
A/N: the last part before the epilogue!
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Six months.
Six months of being together. Laughing together. Being happy together.
Six months that signified something: I had to report our relationship to the bureau.
It was a terrifying ordeal, to put it lightly. I didn’t get fired, which had me thankful beyond belief, but I did get a scolding and a temporary suspension for not notifying them of such sooner. And a threat that she might have to move to a new unit. But, after much convincing from her, we decided that anything was worth it if we were together.
And it was so worth it.
Half a year doesn’t feel like a lot in the grand scheme of things, but it felt like everything with her. Plus, we finally got to officially tell the entire team, and of course, they were thrilled beyond belief.
Dave insisted that we all go to his house for dinner to celebrate our milestone, and despite my protests, she gave an emphatic ‘yes’ for both of us. We sat around the dining room table, talking about anything and everything that didn’t have to do with work. It felt like one of those times I knew I was in trouble with her in the beginning. But this time, I didn’t have to pretend that I wasn’t hopelessly head-over-heels for her. Cheers erupted from the team anytime we showed any affection towards each other, much to her delight. She adored the sweet attention we were getting from our friends, and part of me couldn’t help but smile along with her every time she brightened up at their comments.
“Told you this would work out fine,” she whispered to me at the table, glancing around at everyone.
They were currently preoccupied with the news of Reid taking somebody on a date, taking the pressure and attention off of the two of us. I smiled down at her, not bothering to hide it.
“You’ve proved me wrong once again,” I say, huffing a dramatic sigh playfully. “You’ve got to stop being right about everything. It’s not fair.”
“I was born to be a genius, what can I say?” she said with a cheeky smile. “You love it anyways.”
“Mm. I don’t know about that,” I start with a quirked brow. “But I do love you.”
“Even better,” she whispered, leaning into me.
I couldn’t help but smile as she kissed me softly, letting it linger a bit longer than she had the rest of the night considering nobody was looking at us. Or so we thought.
“You two are so sweet,” Penelope gushed, trying to keep her voice down as she grinned at us. “I’m so happy you’re together. I’ve never seen either of you look so happy.”
I saw her smile at Garcia’s words, leaning her head against my shoulder.
I hummed. “I got very lucky.”
We finished dinner a couple of hours later, and of course, Dave had to make a point to pull out some expensive bottle of wine as we sat in the living room.
He held up his glass. “To our two favorite lovebirds. Now, we don’t all have to pretend we don’t see them staring at each other like they want rip one another's clothes off.”
She snorted a laugh next to me. “Oh, please. At work? I’d never.”
We all laughed at her comment, my cheeks flushing a little, and then drank to our apparent good fortune. I listened in as the team chatted for another couple of hours, content to only sprinkle in a comment here or there.
She leaned into me eventually. “Did you ever think we’d be here a few years ago?”
I laughed. “No. I didn’t think we’d be here this time last year. I’m still trying to figure out why you fell for me, of all people.”
She fell quiet, merely smiling at me for a few moments, staring at me with those pretty, sparkling eyes of hers. I couldn’t help but smile back.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” she said at last, voice quiet. “I couldn’t imagine not falling for you. I’m just happy you felt the same way.”
I hummed another small laugh, kissing her. I couldn’t hold back anymore. We only broke apart when she started laughing at the cheers that once again erupted from the group.
We went back to my apartment that night, hand in hand as we walked up the stairs together.
“I’m so happy we finally told them,” she said as I pulled my keys out.
I got the key in the door, opening it for her and disarming the alarm. I tossed down my keys and jacket.
“Yeah. So glad they get to relentlessly make fun of us,” I replied.
She laugh, walking up to me and putting her arms around my neck.
“You love it and you know it,” she said, a soft kiss on my lips between words. “They make fun because they care. And you adore all of them for it. You can’t hide that from me.”
I shook my head with a lovesick smile, leaning in to kiss her once again, then took her hand to lead her to the couch.
“I wanted to talk to you about something.”
She raised her brows, sitting next to me. “Uh oh.”
“Stop it,” I said softly with a smile. “I… Well, we’ve been together for a while. I love you, you know that. And I love spending all my time with you, but sometimes that’s hard when we live so far apart.”
“My apartment is like fifteen minutes away on a busy day,” she laughed.
“Too far,” I deadpanned. “I just— If I asked you to move in with me, would you think I was totally insane?”
Her small grin turned into a full smile. “Yeah?”
I smiled back, nodding. “Yeah. I get more time with you, and… Honestly, I’ve already mentioned it to Jack and he loves the idea of having more sleepovers with you. Don’t want to disappoint him, now, do we?”
“Oh, definitely not,” she shook her head seriously, hiding a smile. “I almost have to now, don’t I? If Jack says I should.”
“Yes. Exactly.”
She smiled again, tackling me onto the couch cushions with a tight hug. I laugh as she started pressing soft kisses all over my face.
“I love you. You know that?” she asked.
I nodded. “I know.”
She stared at me for another moment, then kissed me once more for good measure.
“I’m serious, though, Jack is expected a sleepover every night that he’s home with us.”
She raised a brow. “Guess I should move in pretty fast then, huh?”
“If we don't want to face his wrath, yes. I’d recommend it.”
“It’s a good thing we have the day off tomorrow, then, isn’t it?”
I smiled. “Yeah. Great coincidence.”
She narrowed her eyes playfully. “What if I had said no?”
“I knew you’d say yes.”
“How?”
I smirked at her, quiet for a moment before I reigned in the smile to look at her seriously.
“I’m a really great profiler.”
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neonbrutalism · 10 months
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Jefferson really saw some guy in his 20s going through it and struggling with adulting but also acting like an older brother/mentor to Miles and said "I guess I have two kids now"
Jefferson thought those two idiot kids should have guessed he'd be waiting for them, and yet when Miles and Miguel swung on to the roof of their apartment, they seemed surprised to see him. As if he wasn't a cop with access to the police scanner. As if he didn't have a TV and could watch the BREAKING NEWS, SHOTS FIRED AT SCENE OF ATTEMPTED ASSAULT IN CENTRAL PARK, SPIDER-MEN SEEN IN VICINITY. As if he couldn't connect two dots between the radio chatter of somebody saying they "shot the big guy but he just kept going".
"So," Jefferson, crossing him arms over his chest, "You had an interesting night."
"Did ... we?" said Miles.
Miguel just shrugged.
Jefferson's done that move before, back when he and Aaron had been up to some bullshit and were trying desperately to avoid consequences.
"So - nobody shot either you?"
"Okay, what were we - " Miles started. Miguel cut him off.
"Everything is fine, Mr. Morales. Miles isn't hurt, the woman in the park is safe, the two headed rat-man is back in his mother's custody."
"And nobody shot you four times?"
The dark lenses on Miguel's mask narrowed a little.
"My suit can't be penetrated by bullets of this time period."
Jefferson glared. It didn't seem to do much to Miguel - dammit, he should have brought a chair to stand on so he could do the dad-glare, it didn't work on somebody so tall.
"Miles, go downstairs and get changed before your mother catches you," Jefferson said. Miles nodded without saying anything and scrambled over the edge of the building to his bedroom, eager to get away from this confrontation.
"... I have a police scanner. I know you got shot."
Miguel's stiff postured relaxed with Miles gone - Jefferson got that, there was a certain pressure of trying to remain an Adult-Mode-Adult around a kid, "And Miles didn't."
"And you did!"
"I'm not hurt."
"You could have been!"
"Look - even if I'm ... Miles will be fine on his own too. He's good at this."
Jefferson grabbed his head with his hands and groaned, "That isn't what I'm talking about! I don't want you to get shot because I don't want you to get shot, kid! I'm worried about both of you!"
"...Why?" said Miguel.
"Because you - you - you're 27! BARELY 27, I know, because that orange lady mentioned you were born in September and it's November - and you have nothing in your kitchen but old yogurt and coffee! You have cat t-shirts and apparently pass out on your floor often enough that it's described as good-for-convalescing!"
Jefferson started a little when he realized Miguel had taken a step back, his posture oddly guarded and defensive, the dark lenses on the mask wide. ... He should calm down - he'd seen people react like this enough to know the yelling was probably triggering something in the kid's brain that was processing badly.
"Kid - Miguel," Jefferson conceded, "Do you ... uh, do you want me to get you a coffee or something? A granola bar? Rio made some Arroz con Pollo, I could put some in a tupperware -"
"That's ... not necessary, Mr. Morales," said Miguel, the fight-or-flight leaving his posture.
"I feel like you probably don't have any food -"
"I'm fine, Mr. Morales, I can -"
"I would really feel better if you'd please take some goddamn chicken."
"... Okay. Thank you," Miguel said, his voice suggesting he was at like a peak stress level. Jefferson could relate.
"Okay, just - wait here - uh, Layla? Orange lady? Don't let him open a portal while I'm, uh."
"Okay, Jefferson," LYLA said from Miguel's watch. Miguel glared down at it and Jefferson hustled downstairs. He gave silent thanks that Rio was working an overnight shift so he wouldn't need to explain why he was packing food up at 11pm.
"You can bring the container back, uh, next time you're here," Jefferson said, handing the container over.
"Sure. Thank you, Mr. Morales."
Miguel turned stiffly and opened a portal back to his home dimension.
"You can call me Je -" Jefferson called as the portal snapped shut.
Stupid goddamn kid.
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udretlnea · 1 year
Text
A Conundrum at Cotea Cafe
Inspired by @kunichigo (Owner of the Cotea Cafe concept. Go follow them. They're cool...!)
Prompt: A customer arrives at the Cotea Cafe just before closing time, and he brings a message.
A/N: Hey, been a while, though for those following y’all know I'm still active. Fyi btw you can expect more of these shenanigans prompts in the future; I just want to try to write for fun while getting checkpoints on my growth at the same time. Anyway, enjoy.
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“Don’t go dimension hopping soon,” he said with utter seriousness. “Or else you'll end up hurt.”
You widen your eyes. Your hands suddenly felt limp as you processed the threat-no, it was a warning.
///
20 minutes earlier…
You relaxed into your seat as your eyes scanned the page in the light novel; it was about a samurai who was thrust into the future where Teyvat was taken over by a demon with a robot army. You pictured the samurai facing off against an army of Ruin machines with nothing but his magic sword. The scene felt so vivid you thought you could see it in your mind.
You turned the page to continue when you heard the bell rung. Somebody had entered the cafe!
You placed a bookmark in between the pages and got up. You stretched your legs, feeling the circulation return. Making your way to the front, you frowned.
Who could be here at this time? Last I checked, the sun was nearly setting…
When you opened the door to the dining area, you expected to see the Traveler and Paimon. A teenager in a white and gray hoodie looked at you with brown eyes. He had black hair and youthful features; he put on a friendly smile while inertinghis hands in his pockets.
“Hello po,” he said in a meek voice. “Is this…a cafe?”
You nodded. “Yes.”
He put a hand on his chest. “Um, are you open?”
You smiled amicably. “Of course! Would you like to look at a menu?”
He nodded, but his hand didn’t fall to the side. “My name is…Aaron. It’s nice to meet you.”
He took a seat at one nearby one of the windows. You grabbed a nearby menu and handed it to him; while he was reading it with interest, you couldn’t help but stare at him. He didn’t appear to be from any of the nations, at least judging from his clothing. It looked like something one might wear at home. Furthermore, he seemed to know about this place despite the remoteness of this location.
“Excuse me, but do you happen to have…peach mango pie?” His question snapped you out of your thoughts.
“Yes! Would you like that?” He blinked shyly and shook his head.
“No. I was just curious,” he clarified. He pointed at a line of words. “I’ll have a halo-halo please.”
“Sure!” You turned towards the kitchen, deciding to pick up your train of thought after making his dish. Ten minutes later you come back with a tall glass cup full of halo-halo.
“Sal-salamat po…thank you.” He nodded to the glass. You set it down in front of him; he takes a moment to silently observe it. A happy smile slowly forms on his face. “Ah, it looks delicious.”
He gave a brief prayer before picking up the spoon and mixing it.
You decided now was the perfect time to leave him and fiddle away your time; it usually didn’t take long to finish Halo-Halo so you went back to the kitchen to reorganize.
You tidied the kitchen up by cleaning the tools you used to make halo-halo. When you just about finished, the sound of the spoon clattering in an empty cup made you look up.
“I’ve finished,” Aaron announced almost proudly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pouch. He put it next to his empty cup and you heard the sound of Mora clinking; he got up and turned to the door. You made your way to where he sat. The Mora pouch was moderate-sized. A quick calculation told you that he overpaid. You were about to stop him from leaving, but you saw that he was standing a couple feet from you. He looked at you as if he could peer past your mask.
“...Pardon me, but you’re like me, aren’t you.” Aaron put a hand on his hip. “You’re also a...Creator”
You felt the urge to suppress a wave of panic. “I-I’m sorry?”
“Well, they call them Creators. You probably know them as writers. Self-inserts,” he explained. He shook his head. “My apologies for the strange question, and for offending you, if I did. I just thought I finally found someone to talk to. I…can leave if you want. It’s no trouble.”
Rather than tell him to do just that, you waved him off. “It’s fine. Are you one as well?”
“I’ll tell you if you tell me.”
You examine his form, searching for anything that could tell that he’s lying. When you found none, you shrugged. “...Sure. Although I’m currently living out my cottage-core fantasy at the moment. I don’t care for the stuffy paperwork that comes with being in charge of an entire continent."
“Same. And cottage-core is cool, but I never can find the time to do that. Not that I-not that I deserve anything good,” A moment of silence passed as they let that information process. Internally, you felt a strange sense of kinship beginning to form in your gut. It was certainly strange to find another being like yourself standing in front of you, but given that he was similar, or perhaps greater in power than you it made sense to desire to travel to other branches of the SAGAU multiverse.
“Well, with pleasantries out of the way, um…I actually came here to deliver a message for you,” he said. He raised his hands in the air as if he thought it would ease the anxiety in the atmosphere. “Not-not from any of the Archons, I mean. From me.”
“Eh?” This suddenly turned interesting. What could he possibly have to tell you? He took a deep breath and stared into your eyes.
“Don’t go dimension hopping soon,” Aaron said with utter seriousness. “Or else you'll end up hurt.”
You widen your eyes. Your hands suddenly felt limp as you processed the threat-no, it was a warning.
Aaron bit his lip. His eyes darted from side to side as if he were engaged in an intense internal debate. After a couple seconds, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of flash cards. He flipped through them until he stopped at one “No, but for your own safety, I advise not traveling to other universes in SAGAU until They give you the signal that it’s safe. That's all. Thank you for your time, and the food. I hope your story has a happy ending.”
He put away the flash cards and turned around. Then, he placed a hand on the door knob. But he couldn’t leave yet, not when your interest was piqued!
“Wait,” you interrupt. He turns his head back at you with a surprised look “This…thing that’s going to happen? Call it intuition, but I can't help but feel like it'll be terrible, especially for you. Are you.. alright?”
Aaron simply smiled knowingly. His eyes were glossy. “Thank you for your concern. No, but I will be soon. Ingat po…goodbye."
He opened the door and stepped outside; just as it shut there was a flash of light. When you opened it again to look for him, Aaron was gone.
Something hung in the air, but you weren’t sure what it was. Was this regret, awkwardness, or ominousness? Perhaps it was a mixture of all three.
With nothing else to do, you took the empty glass back and cleaned it. Then you flipped the sign to CLOSED before making your way to the backroom. You reclined back into the comfy chair, settling into the plush cushion. You picked up the book, opened to the bookmarked page, and resumed reading.
///
The next day you wake up and found posters plastered in front of your door; they informed you that several AUs and ATs were missing and that creator deities had been displaced. Furthermore, it advised everyone to stay calm and continue their routines while this incident was sorted.
Suffice it to say you were grateful when the Traveler brought Paimon, Yae Miko, the Raiden Shogun, Arataki Itto, and Gorou with them. A distraction was just what you needed. They kept you busy, dodging questions and cooking them food. They left and you closed the cafe for the day.
When you woke up, the posters you collected were gone, replaced with a single white sheet of paper with the words, "THE PRIOR INCIDENT HAS BEEN RECTIFIED. THANK YOU TO THOSE WHO FOLLOWED DIRECTIONS." -M.
You wondered if Aaron was alright and if whatever happened yesterday was related to him. It was clear you weren't getting any answers soon. With a sigh, you head back into your cottage to get ready for the day.
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starseneyes · 1 year
Text
Chenford - Lucy Chen / Tim Bradford - The Rookie - Season 5 - Ep 22
"Under Siege" AKA "Who in the Writer's Room Likes Horror?"
It's a bizarre day. If you love Chenford, then you need to know what's going on with the WGA - Writers Guild of America. They are striking for a fair wage and basic protections.
WGA members craft this ship and show we love so much, so please show solidarity for them as they fight for not only their future, but for future generations of writers.
SPOILER ALERT: If you want to remain spoiler free, I have no bloody clue why you're here. I can only assume a friend told you to check this out as a cruel joke. First off, dump that friend. Second, buckle up. It's about to get spoilery!
All good? Great! I can't wait to dive in.
Arrest Me... but make it SCARY
A bit of a different vibe for our opening tonight. No, this isn't Chenford-direct. But, it's important to know the vibe of this episode going in.
If any of you are Avengers: Infinity War fans, you might recall the Wanda / Vision relationship, and their whole sequence where they were ambushed. Originally, it was a lot longer, and had more of a horror movie vibe.
I loved that they went outside the box on that to play with genre throughout the movie.
I feel like The Rookie is playing with that a bit. It's been a while since my heart pounded during an episode.
In all honesty, it was probably Day of Death that last had me on the edge of my seat... and I watched that after I started Season 5 with near-canon Chenford.
Yes, I'm spoiled. Yes, I think OG Chenford fans deserve medals for their patience.
Speaking of which, your patience with me is likely wearing thin... let's get to the Chenford.
"Hey I heard it was Thornson."
Tim and Lucy show up together, and I'm having flashbacks to the two of them bailing out her UC buddy in the dead of night. These two know how to get moving when it matters.
Tim and Lucy immediately separate on their separate missions. That didn't work out too well for Celina and Aaron, but it looks like Chenford survive the night.
Look, I have a lot of ship trauma. "Leaf on the wind" anyone? Yeah, I've got ship trauma.
"A blood drive has been set up at the hospital. If you can do so, please volunteer at the end of shift."
I'm reminded of the fact that Tim Bradford regularly gives blood, so I'm heart-warmed that he's the one who gets to deliver the news to the team.
"Those are not store-bought Halloween masks."
It struck me immediately that Lucy is sitting front row like a Rookie.
Yes, I know that they are packed in there, so somebody has to sit up front... but it's Lucy, so it feels symbolic. As though she is sitting in the Rookie spot in Celina's honor.
"Hey. We heard the good news about Aaron. Unfortunately, none of our CIs have heard anything about a gang targeting the cops."
I know it's a little detail, but I love Tim and Lucy showing up together everywhere.
Of course, someone on Twitter called out the 4x01 parallel to them showing up at Wesley's together after I initially watched the episode. And they're so right. It's another parallel among many in this episode tonight!
"I hate to say it, but this is not gonna break tonight."
This one I spotted immediately the first time through—it's another night where he's sending everyone home because there's nothing more to be done... just like when they lost Jackson.
And I have to wonder if the intentionality of these parallels is to confirm or subvert expectation.
Like, are we supposed to see this similar sequence of events as an omen of doom? Or are we drawing these parallels with the intent of intensifying the torture before the cathartic release of Aaron's survival?
I guess we'll find out together in Season 6.
"I can't lose another."
Oh, Grey. Poor Grey. I guess I wasn't the only one having flashbacks.
Tim and Lucy Embrace
Tim knows Lucy is having that same flashback. There are too many similarities, too many things tying them all back to Jackson and the loss they all endured.
Angela about to give birth. Someone targeting them. An ambush and a shooting.
Yes, Aaron has a chance at making it. But the weight of this moment is not lost on this team who has suffered too much loss before.
Lucy and Tim step into the apartment, and they barely make it past the door before they're in one another's arms.
It's wordless. Tim motions to Lucy, and it reminds me of the hand motions when he offered to carry the War Bags after their last ride together.
Tim and Lucy no longer need a shorthand... they don't even need words.
He knows what she needs without her asking, and she knows what he's offering without a word spoken.
Back in Season 4 Episode 1, Tim asked what she needed. She asked for the hug. Now he knows what she needs in this moment as easily as he knows his own—some semblance of comfort in the horror of history repeating.
QUICK EDIT: Upon rewatch, I find I didn't imagine his "Come here" the first time (another call back), so technically he did use words... but they weren't needed.
Tim holds Lucy in his arms—so similar to their positioning in 4x01—but that's where the similarities end. Because Tim and Lucy of Season 4 no longer exist.
Everything has deepened between them since then. And while, yes, the hanky panky is fun... the trust is what they both need here.
They can't trust that everything will be okay. But they trust that with one another they are truly safe. And right now, they both need that comfort.
"It's okay," he whispers as he holds her, wishing it were true.
Tim kisses Lucy's forehead as he holds her, rubs her arms, and tries to offer some comfort as she leans against him, sobs overtaking her... like the first time he held her in Day of Death.
I know that we're going for the 4x01 parallels with how this is shot and staged, but I see the DOD ones, too. This is where they are safe when nowhere else feels safe.
Tim's hand cradles her head as he holds her. And much as this hurts like hell, this moment is important.
Tim and Lucy are one another's safe place. With each other, there are no pretenses or pretending, anymore. They no longer hide from one another or themselves.
They've embraced the beauty of who they are together, and while there will be many moments of joy... the sorrow is a part of the journey.
Tim and Lucy have had their share of it, true. But this is the first time they've traversed it as boyfriend and girlfriend. And the impact of enduring possibly losing another officer and friend to an ambush is too much.
Does being together make it easier? Hell, no. Is there a slight comfort in knowing you're not enduring it alone? Oh, yes.
"No we know. We ran your prints ... you don't get out of bed for less than 20K a day. Who hired you?"
Tim and Lucy are very good at what they do, and I love how they are supporting one another and building upon each other.
I miss them riding together, but we see what makes them great—they both think on their feet and they are sensational at the "yes, and".
I love getting to see the professional side still fires so beautifully between them. It's a feat I feared fumbled, but I'm freakin' psyched it fared fine.
Oh my goodness, that's way too much alliteration. But, I'm leaving it. It's ridiculous and it makes me smile!
The Trip Wire
Another commonality with Season 4 Episode 1. Gee wiz, we're going for lots of references with this one, and that leaves me curious about the intention... and whether there's a common thread that we're somehow missing that leads all the way back.
Or, I'm reading too much into it because I'm weird. I can roll with that, too.
Tim joins up with Lucy outside the house where she asks him for clarity that none of them have. What the hell is going on!?
"We should move on." "What? No."
Love that Lucy still stands up to Tim at work.
Look, even when he was her TO and then her supervisor, Lucy never shied away from speaking her mind. In this case, she sees something they're missing. And she's not going to let them miss out on an important piece of the puzzle.
"You think it's personal?" "I mean, look, if I was gonna go to the extreme of targeting police officers, why not take out some of my enemies along the way?"
And with that, Lucy BadAss Chen cracks the case. No, I don't know if that's her legal middle name. But it should be.
My brain immediately goes back to Tim accusing her of a social media obsession that happened to crack a case back during one of the Documentary episodes.
There's no skirting around this one—it was all Chen.
"I'll take Moran." "You're not going by yourself." "I'll go with her."
Alright, Fierce Protector. You do you.
"You should be out kicking doors with Metro." "I'm good." "I don't need you protecting me."
Well, damn, I thought it was just me! I thought I was gonna be the only one in this Meta calling out Tim in the Protector role, but I guess my on-screen bestie had to chime in, too.
Also, bringing back "Good" in this scene, which truly feels like their word, and I love it.
Tim will always have Lucy's back. He knows that she is capable and strong, but he's also her boyfriend and spent a lot of time as her TO and then Supervisor. Worrying about her was a part of his job, and now it's an ingrained part of his life.
He's not trying to undermine her independence or capability. He simply wants to be close because then he knows she is safe and doesn't have to hold his breath wondering.
"So, clearly what you're saying is you need me protecting you." "Clearly. You know me so well."
It was pinging my brain, and I couldn't figure out why until someone pulled out the DOD GIF on Twitter and I started slow-clapping like a sports movie.
Yes, of course! When Lucy woke up in the hospital to find Tim by her side... as he is, now.
I kept seeing DOD parallels in this episode, and I'm strangely comforted that others did, too.
Plus, a return of "Clearly", which has been another of Tim and Lucy's words. "Clearly, Ashley's gotta go." "Clearly this isn't working out."
"I'm happy it's you at my six." "Back at you."
Major "We protect each other" vibes, and I bloody approve. Look, we know that Tim is a Fierce Protector. But he also knows that his girlfriend is a kick-ass bad-ass.
Now, we enter into a fight scene that is a bloody masterpiece.
Yes, I wondered why they emptied their clips at the Riot Shields, but I'm not a cop, so I don't know if there's some logic behind it I don't possess. Other than that... this fucking rocked.
Like, literally. I couldn't have been the only Xennial rocking out when Janes Addiction started playing! Someone go hug the Music Supervisor, Music Coordinator, Screenwriter, Director, or whoever threw that track out there, because it's bloody brilliant.
Tim and Lucy are working together, talking it out as they go. And we see all that time they've put into building their communication is really on display, even in a bloody battle.
"We stand a chance, but only together."
Hell, yeah, Lucy! I've been saying that all season. No, not in terms of having the high ground (rest in pieces, Anikan Skywalker's limbs), but in terms of getting through this thing called life.
Tim and Lucy stand a chance of surviving as Chenford through end of show only if they work together.
And on-the-screen in this particular moment, the same holds true.
"Pull not push, copy that."
Love. Them. Look at Tim taking the word of his capable wife and putting it into practice.
Tim and Lucy are literally fighting for their lives, here, and they are fighting together. When one's on the brink of being overwhelmed, the other is there.
Lucy delivers a strike to free up Tim. He takes on several at once, and she goes for the shield. I was screaming, "Hell, yeah, baby girl!" like the big sister I am to my on-screen bestie because she was crushing.
Tim is the master of pepper spray, I swear. He's used it in many creative ways, but super smart to go straight for the eye-holes on the masks to try to penetrate.
Lucy's close to losing consciousness when Tim rips the guy off of her, repaying the earlier favor of her freeing him up. It's a literal give-and-take... in a fight for their lives. This is bloody brilliant.
Nolan finally makes it up there, and Tim helps Lucy through the door to the stairwell, literally shielding her with his body.
Once inside, Tim has his hand on one of his favorite places—Lucy's leg. But this isn't a sexy-time touch. This is the, "Thank God you're alive" touch. If they hadn't worked together, that could have ended very differently.
"I have Bradford and Chen secured upstairs."
Chen and Bradford, sir. It's Chenford. Not Braden.
"You should be on your way to the hospital." "We'll go after."
At least Tim is saying he'll go. Like, seriously, this guy is the king of avoiding medical attention. And too often when he's gone in, he did so knowing nobody was waiting for him on the other side.
Now, not only is he willingly going to go in with his girlfriend, he knows that they'll leave together. Look how far our boy has come.
A Glance
Our last moment of Tim and Lucy is just a glance... a subtle glance between the two of them where that wordless communication comes in.
They've always have this layer to their relationship—communicating without a word. But it's so much deeper, now.
And as we reflect on the end of a season, I have to say it's been incredible to witness their growth alongside y'all in real-time.
This season has been an absolute roller coaster, and my first with all y'all! I started with 5x01, had to catch up, and have loved this whole journey.
Thank you all for being so welcoming to a late-comer like me. And thank you for reading!
Remember, love one another. Give yourself grace. Don't worry about "perfect" because it doesn't bloody exist. Go after your dreams. Fuck Fear. And believe in yourself, always.
And if you're not ready to believe in yourself... know that I believe in you. And I'm always rooting for good things to come your way. You've got this.
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sophietv · 11 months
Note
Hey Sophie! I am personally a big lsk believer but I was wondering what you think of the argument that William Bowery is actually Dianna Agron? I’ve seen some theories floating around that it’s likely her as she’s super musical and apparently 1 (or perhaps more) of the WB tracks were recorded at Marcus Mumfords house who is in a band with her ex husband. I suppose it’s always entirely possible that Dianna could be WB and it not be indicative of something beyond a writing relationship/friendship. Especially if they are on good terms. Obviously I want to think WB is Karlie! But sometimes I just like to check my bias lol.
Hi!
Ok, so I did some digging just to be sure to answer all of it as best as I could, because I too need to sometimes check my bias.
I don't know if Taylor and Dianna are on good terms. They could totally be.
But beside the fact that I'm convinced William Bowery is Karlie (I'll give my reasons in a bit), I don't think the fact that Taylor recorded some songs at Marcus Mumfords' home studio means anything concerning William Bowery.
William Bowery has credits as Song Writter and not producer. Taylor wrote those songs at home and needed a studio to record so even if Dianna could have been there (High chances that she wasn't) the songs were already written, so she would have had credits as producer if anything.
Taylor said that she recorded Evermore at his studio. All of Folklore's vocals were recorded at her own home (Kitty Committee Studio) because of quarantine and she was still in quarantine in LA when she recorded Evermore. So how would Dianna have been able to help her write for Folklore too? Because William Bowery has credits on Folklore as well. Here's exactly what she said during LA N2 show about her recording at his studio: "I could not find a studio, essentially, and so Aaron was like, 'OK, let me call around and see if there's anyone who's cool and nice and generous and might be willing to offer up their home studio -- if you do the right amount of testing, you're totally locked down, you're fully quarantined," Swift shared. "So I was like 'Please, I really hope somebody comes through. And so he calls me up and he's like, 'I have really, really good news. Marcus Mumford said that you could record at his home studio." "First of all I'm so excited that he's saving us, because, without this trip, we couldn't have recorded -- five or six of the songs on evermore came from me getting in a car, driving six hours out into the country, past thousands of beautiful sheep, to Marcus Mumford's beautiful house where he has a studio. So, I got to do this." (X)
They were in the middle of the quarantine, hence why she was looking for a place to record since everything was closed. And as Jack said, she was fully quarantined at that point. Marcus Mumford's studio is in LA (X). Wich is a good thing, because Taylor was in LA during the Quarantine while writting Folklore and Evermore, she talks about it in her Musicians On Musicians interview with Rolling Stone. (X) Do you know who else was in LA during the quarantine?? Karlie! (X).
Dianna used to live in LA it's true, but she moved out and sold her house in 2016. Since then, she's been living in New York. So I don't see how it was possible for her to be in LA when Taylor was recording at her own house for Folklore or even for recording Evermore at Macus' studio when the reason Taylor could do it was because she was fully locked down.
And worth mentionning again, William Bowery is credited on Folklore too and has writting credits not Producer credits.
So for all those reasons, I don't think it makes sense to say that Dianna is William Bowery.
And now, there's so much that points at Karlie actually being William Bowery... more than just being exactly in the same city as Taylor during lockdown.
When Taylor wrote Folklore and recorded it directly from her home.
But this is already... a big Koincidences...
I did a thread on Twitter about why I think Karlie is William Bowery, it really needs to be updated though, so I might do a proper one on here.
Here (X)
And to add to all of it, there's all the very BIG Koincidences that Karlie did around the release of Folklore....
Posting herself dancing in a Cardigan 13 days before Folklore release.
Posting herself doing a re-do of Taylor's Lover Eye theory photoshoot with the daisy. 7 days before Folklore's release.
Posting herself in the forest the day before Folklore's release wich prompts a lot of medias to say that she was showing her support to Taylor with those posts.
Posting a video with a code saying "Easter Eggs" the same day
Posting hersels as Betty Crocker from a 2015 photoshoot, 7 days after Folklore's release and captionning "actually me all of quarantine".
Karlie liking a post by Martha Hunt in a Cardigan with the caption "Peter losing Wendy"
Kimby liking a Folklore meme
Exile being released as a single on Karlie's birthday (one of the track where William Bowery is credited)
Betty being also released as a single in August (the other song that William Bowery has co-written).
Derek doing a post about how he loves Cardigan...
And that's just the ones on the top of my head...
Will do a proper post soon-ish... needs to continue my Ultimate LSK Thread Of Koincidences before.
So yeah I definitly have bias... but with all of this. I can say with confidence that Dianna is not William Bowery and that there's a really really high probability of it being Karlie instead.
Hope this answer your question! Thank you for your ask!
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themetaphorgirl · 1 year
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this was prompted by my darling Maeve!!! (seriously, I have absolutely no fucking clue what I would do without Maeve in my life. a literal angel.)
also yes I have a backlog of prompts that I should fill, but YES I am always taking more prompts if you have them!!
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“Penelope, do you really need a bag that big?”
She hugged her arms around her tote bag. “Yes!” she said. “I have nine peoples’ worth of snacks in here.” 
Dave locked his car doors. “Well, everyone had better finish all their snacks before they get back in my car after this, because there’s no eating allowed,” he announced. 
“Yeah, we know, Grandpa,” Emily said. He rolled his eyes. 
“I’ll just ride back in James’s car, he’ll let us eat,” Derek said. 
“Good luck prying the Wonder Twins and their baby out of there,” Emily said. “Trust me, I’ve tried. I keep telling them I can squish into the backseat middle, but they keep saying that there’s no room for me.”
JJ blew a bubble and snapped her gum. “I just hope they don't ask to check your bag when we get in there,” she said. “You’re not supposed to bring in outside food and drinks to a movie theater.”
Penelope’s mouth dropped open. “They won’t get me in trouble, will they?” she said. “I’m just a little girl with a few pieces of candy.”
“You have the entire Willy Wonka factory in there, Penny,” Dave said. 
She stood in the middle of the parking lot as they walked away. “Guys, I won’t get in trouble, right?” she called. “Guys?”
“Come on, Pen, you’re standing in the middle of the road.”
She hurried to catch up; the other half of the group was waiting on the sidewalk. “There you guys are,” James said. “Whoa, Penny. That’s…that's a big bag.”
“It’s not that noticeable, is it?” she said. 
“Spencer could use that as a sleeping bag,” Aaron said dryly. 
Spencer made a face. “I’m not that little,” he said. 
“We should probably go if we want to get popcorn before the movie,” Alex said. 
“Are we going to need any?” JJ said. “With all the stuff Penelope is sneaking in for us?”
“Oh, definitely,” Derek said. 
Penelope’s heart was beating so loudly she was sure the theater employees could hear it. Maybe she had a glowing neon sign above her head- ask me about the illegal candy in my bag! 
“Penny, stop looking so guilty,” Dave whispered. 
“But I am guilty,” she whispered back. 
“It was your idea to bring all this candy.”
“Stop talking about it!”
“Well, then stop looking so guilty!”
She hugged the bag to her chest and hid herself behind Derek. He shook his head, grinning, and handed her ticket to the bored employee along with his. 
Once they were safely into the theater she exhaled loudly. “I was not cut out for a life of crime,” she said. 
“I don’t think that counts as a crime,” JJ said. “Besides…haven’t you gotten in trouble like a million times for hacking computers?”
“That’s different,” Penelope said. “I’m going to go sit in the theater. Can somebody come with me?”
“Yeah, yeah, I will,” Emily said. “I’ll be your fall guy if they catch you. I’d do better in prison than you would.” Penelope’s eyes widened. “They’re not going to send you to prison, Pen, it’s a joke.”
Still, she didn’t feel completely secure until she was safely seated in the theater, her bag of contraband settled on her lap. She waited for the rest of the kids to make their way to their seats with their popcorn, half watching the preshow on the screen and half scanning for theater employees. 
“Dave, I think you have more butter than popcorn,” Aaron said. 
“What’s the point of getting movie theater popcorn if you don’t dump a ton of extra movie theater butter on it?” Dave protested. 
“It’s not really butter, most theaters use a coconut oil blend,” Spencer said. 
“Yeah, well, it’s still delicious.”
Alex sat down, and Spencer immediately plunked down in the seat beside her, nudging James out of his way. “Uh…could I sit next to Alex, please?” he said. 
“No, thank you, I’d like to sit here,” Spencer said. 
Penelope bit back a giggle at the look of tragic desperation on his face. “Do you want to sit on her other side, so you can be between the twins?” James suggested. 
“Yeah, you can sit over here, Bug,” Aaron said. 
“No, thank you,” Spencer said. 
Alex covered Spencer’s ears. “Don’t worry, babe, he’ll fall asleep twenty minutes into the movie and then I can give him to Aaron,” she whispered. 
Spencer squirmed around and frowned at her. “What did you say?”
“Nothing, darling.”
Penelope opened up her bag. “All right, I think we’re safe,” she said. “I think I have everything. I’ve got Milk Duds for Derek-“
JJ made a face. “I think we need to start calling you Grandpa instead of Dave.”
“Hey!” Derek protested. 
“Thank god,” Dave said. 
“Junior Mints for JJ-“
“Ew, that’s like eating chocolate covered toothpaste,” Derek said. 
“Milk Duds are basically chocolate covered cement, so who’s the real loser here?”
Penelope kept digging around in her bag. “Black licorice for Emily…”
Dave, JJ, and Derek stared at her. She shrugged. “It’ll turn my mouth black,” she said. 
“I’ve got a single can of ginger ale for Hotch, which…that’s just very sad,” Penelope said. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Aaron said. 
“His tummy hurts and he’s being very brave about it,” Alex said. He huffed in annoyance. 
Penelope held up two packets of candy. “Skittles for Spencer and M&Ms for James,” she said. 
“Thanks, Pen,” James said as he ripped it open and poured it into his popcorn. 
Spencer’s eyes went wide. “You can do that?” he said.
“Yeah, Bug, you want to try it?” James asked. He held it out and Spencer took a small handful. 
Penelope pulled out her bag of Hi-Chews and set her tote on the empty seat next to her. “So since you guys have terrible taste in candy, I have backups,” she said. “I have starbursts, sour patch kids, Hershey kisses, Reese’s cups-“
Derek shook his empty Milk Duds box. “Can you toss me something?” he said. “I finished mine.”
“Already? The previews haven’t even started!”
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comeforthepizza · 21 days
Text
Showbiz Pizza Magic Night (1984), Segment 8: "Michael Jackson Intro/Michael Jackson Tribute" Transcript
NOTE: THIS TRANSCRIPT IS UNDER CONSTRUCTION! I found a live performance that shows some of the line distribution in the medley was wrong in my original post. I don’t have the chance to fix it right now, but I’ll do it as soon as I can!
Note: Here's the eighth and final segment of Magic Night! This one includes the well-known Michael Jackson Intro skit, along with the first of the Rock-afire Explosion's Michael Jackson medleys. If you want to check out the rest of the Magic Night transcripts, you can find links to them all at the bottom of the script, as well as footnotes.
As always, if you find any errors, please let me know and I'll fix it as soon as possible!
MAGIC NIGHT 1984
SEGMENT EIGHT: MICHAEL JACKSON INTRO/MICHAEL JACKSON TRIBUTE
Featuring:
Burt "Sal" Wilson as Fatz Geronimo
Aaron Fechter as Billy Bob Brockali, Looney Bird, Rolfe DeWolfe, and Earl Schmerle
Shalisa Sloan as Mitzi Mozzarella
Rick Bailey as Beach Bear
Duke Chauppetta as Dook LaRue
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BILLY BOB: Well, howdy, everybody. I’m Billy Bob, and we’re back with another big show. But before we get on with it, I wanted to tell y’all something really interesting! It interests me, anyway. The other night, I was over at Disney World, I was vacationing, you know, had a couple days off and I was at Disney, and I was at the Country Bear Jamboree, and I was up there on stage gigging and jamming and playing with all them other bears and lo and behold, who was in the audience but Michael Jackson of all people!
MITZI: Wait a minute, wait a minute!
BILLY BOB: Yeah! And we got him up on stage-
MITZI: You saw Michael Jackson?
BILLY BOB: - and we were dancing and singing all his songs and having a good ol' time, right there at Disney World! He must have been va-
MITZI: You saw Michael Jackson!?
BILLY BOB: Yeah! And we did Billie Jean-
MITZI: You mean the Michael Jackson!?
BILLY BOB: The Michael Jackson! It was so great, and he did some songs from his album Thriller-
MITZI: No! No, you couldn’t have done that to me! You mean, you saw him and I didn’t get to!?
BILLY BOB: Well, Mitzi, we invited you to come with us to Disney.
MITZI: Well… I had cheerleading practice!
BILLY BOB: I know. Well, maybe another time. But it was so much fun-
MITZI: I’ll never get to see him again and y’all got to see him!
BILLY BOB: Well-
MITZI: It’s not fair.
BILLY BOB: Well-
MITZI: Michael Jackson’s my favorite thing, I love him!
BILLY BOB: I’m sorry, Mitzi.
MITZI: Well. Did you get his autograph?
BILLY BOB: Gah, you know, we were so excited… I don’t know, we forgot.
MITZI: You didn’t get his autograph for me!?
BILLY BOB: No, no, I’m sorry.
MITZI: You’re so thoughtless!
BILLY BOB: I’m sorry. Um.
MITZI: If I was there, I would’ve gotten 400 autographs! If I was there and y’all weren’t there, I would’ve gotten autographs for y’all, too!
BILLY BOB: Well, gee, that’d be nice, Mitzi-
ROLFE: Hey! Autographs, autographs, that’s all I ever hear! “Rolfe, would you please give me your autograph?” Every time I go out in public, people beg me for my autographs. But you know what? I don’t give it to them. I get hounded so much, I’m just sick and tired of it. So, uh, no autographs and that’s all! So, the answer is no. No! I will not give you my autograph, Mitzi. I’m sorry, you’ll have to get-
EARL: Rolfe, Rolfe, Rolfe! They are not talking about you. They do not want your autograph, and neither does anybody else. Would somebody please close the curtains on this nerd? I can’t even stand to look at him.
BEACH BEAR: Wonderful idea, there. Mitzi.
(There’s an uncomfortable pause.)
MITZI: … What?
BEACH BEAR: People like Michael Jackson, they get accosted for autographs all the time. Now, he was out at Disney World trying to have a good time. If you had been there, trying to get 400 autographs, you would have ruined his day. Do you understand?
MITZI: Yeah. I understand.
BEACH BEAR: Good. Now, what are you gonna do if you see Michael Jackson?
MITZI (Sudden, explosive.): I’m gonna rip his shirt off!! I’m gonna get a clump of his hair!! I’m gonna tear off his shoes!! I’ll do ANYTHING just to make up for this time when I didn’t get his autograph!!
(A beat of stunned silence.)
BEACH BEAR: … Alright. I can understand that. But for now, uh, I think we should pay musical tribute to the man by butchering one of his songs.
[SONG: MICHAEL JACKSON TRIBUTE/MEDLEY]
NO. 1: BILLIE JEAN
BEACH BEAR: But we really like you, Michael, so we’re gonna do it to a whole medley.
DOOK:
SHE TOLD ME HER NAME WAS BILLIE JEAN, AS SHE CAUSED A SCENE
THEN EVERY HEAD TURNED WITH EYES THAT DREAMED OF BEING THE ONE
DOOK & BEACH BEAR:
WHO WILL DANCE ON THE FLOOR IN THE ROUND
DOOK:
PEOPLE ALWAYS TOLD ME, TO BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU DO
“DON’T GO AROUND BREAKING YOUNG GIRLS’ HEARTS”
AND MY MOTHER ALWAYS TOLD ME TO BE CAREFUL WHO YOU LOVE
“BE CAREFUL OF WHAT YOU DO
BECAUSE THE LIE BECOMES THE TRUTH”
HEY, HEY, HEY
DOOK, BEACH BEAR, MITZI, & BILLY BOB:
BILLIE JEAN IS NOT MY LOVER
SHE’S JUST A GIRL WHO CLAIMS THAT
DOOK, BEACH BEAR, MITZI:
I AM THE ONE
DOOK, BEACH BEAR, MITZI, & BILLY BOB:
BUT THE KID IS NOT MY SON
DOOK, BEACH BEAR, MITZI:
SHE SAYS I AM THE ONE
DOOK, BEACH BEAR, MITZI, & BILLY BOB:
BUT THE KID IS NOT MY SON
BILLY BOB: Hey, has anyone seen Michael’s new video?
FATZ: Are you kidding?
NO. 2: THRILLER
BEACH BEAR, DOOK, MITZI, & BILLY BOB:
THRILLER
THRILLER NIGHT
BEACH BEAR:
AND NO ONE’S GONNA SAVE YOU
FROM THE BEAST ABOUT TO STRIKE
BEACH BEAR, DOOK, MITZI, & BILLY BOB:
THRILLER
THRILLER NIGHT
BEACH BEAR:
YOU’RE FIGHTING FOR YOUR LIFE
INSIDER A KILLER, THRILLER
YOU HEAR THE DOOR SLAM
AND REALIZE THERE’S NOWHERE LEFT TO RUN
YOU FEEL THE COLD HAND
AND WONDER IF YOU’LL EVER SEE THE SUN
BEACH BEAR, DOOK, MITZI, & BILLY BOB:
YOU CLOSE YOUR EYES
BEACH BEAR:
AND HOPE THAT THIS IS JUST IMAGINATION
GIRL
BEACH BEAR, DOOK, MITZI, & BILLY BOB:
BUT ALL THE WHILE
BEACH BEAR:
YOU HEAR A CREATURE CREEPING UP BEHIND
YOU’RE OUT OF TIME
‘CAUSE THIS IS
BEACH BEAR, DOOK, MITZI, & BILLY BOB:
THRILLER
THRILLER NIGHT
BEACH BEAR:
THERE AIN’T NO SECOND CHANCE
FROM THE THING WITH FORTY EYES
BEACH BEAR, DOOK, MITZI, & BILLY BOB:
THRILLER
THRILLER NIGHT
BEACH BEAR:
YOU’RE FIGHTING FOR YOUR LIFE INSIDE A
DOOK, MITZI, & BILLY BOB:
KILLER
BEACH BEAR:
KILLER
DOOK, MITZI, & BILLY BOB:
THRILLER
BEACH BEAR:
THRILLER
BEACH BEAR, DOOK, MITZI, & BILLY BOB:
TONIGHT
NO. 3: WANNA BE STARTIN’ SOMETHING (INSTRUMENTAL)
SUN & MOON*:
MA, MA, SE
MA, MA, SA
MA, MA, COO, SA
BILLY BOB: Hey, what about that video Thriller? Has everybody seen it?
(Sounds of affirmation come from center stage.)
FATZ: Yeah, I saw it. 
BILLY BOB: Yeah? What’cha think?
FATZ: It scared me to death! I had to watch it with one eye closed. I’m under my bed.
(Everyone laughs.)
BEACH BEAR: You know, I thought- I think it sets precedence for a contemporary musical demographic. I think it adds sort of an anti-pseudo-expressionism in it.
FATZ: Yeah.
BILLY BOB: What’s that mean?
BEACH BEAR: It means it’s- it’s now. It’s wow.
FATZ: Yeah. With a marketed propensity towards obesity and sloth.
BEACH BEAR: Right.
DOOK (Imitating the Cowardly Lion from The Wizard of Oz): “I do believe in spooks! I do, I do, I do, I do believe in spooks!”
(They laugh.)
BILLY BOB: Hey, Looney Bird, how ‘bout you? What’d you think of it?
LOONEY BIRD: I didn’t see it.
BILLY BOB: How come, Looney Bird? Everybody’s seen it.
LOONEY BIRD: It’s on MTV, right?
BILLY BOB: Right.
LOONEY BIRD: Well, every time I turn on MTV, all I see is John Cougar Mellencamp. So, I turn it off. There’s better stuff on my police scanner.
BILLY BOB: Hey, does anybody remember any of Michael’s old songs?
(Everyone agrees that they do.)
NO. 4: THE LOVE YOU SAVE (ORIGINALLY BY THE JACKSON 5)
ALL**:
DO, DO
DO, DO, DO, DO
DO, DO, DO, DO
DO, DO, DO, DO
DO, DO
DO, DO, DO, DO
DO, DO, DO, DO, DO, DO, DO
MITZI:
WHEN WE PLAYED TAG IN GRADE SCHOOL
YOU WANTED TO BE IT
BUT CHASING GIRLS WAS JUST A FAD
YOU CROSSED YOUR HEART YOU’D QUIT
WHEN WE GREW UP YOU TRADED
YOUR PROMISE FOR MY RING
NOW JUST LIKE BACK IN GRADE SCHOOL
YOU’RE DOING THE SAME OLD THING
STOP, THE LOVE YOU SAVE MAY BE YOUR OWN
DARLING, TAKE IT SLOW
OR SOMEDAY YOU’LL BE ALL ALONE
YOU’D BETTER STOP, THE LOVE YOU SAVE MAY BE YOUR OWN
DARLING, LOOK BOTH WAYS BEFORE YOU CROSS ME
YOU’RE HEADED FOR THE DANGER ZONE
Sit down, boy! I think I love you! Now, wait a minute, boy! Get up! Show me what you can do!
ROLFE: Okay! Lucky day, lucky day! I’ve reconsidered. I’m going to sign some autographs after all! But a limited number only, of course. Ten autographs. The first ten people to get lined up right here- the line forms to the right- are gonna get autographs. No! Twenty autographs! That’s it! Lucky day! I’m in such a good mood!
(He laughs.)
EARL: Rolfe!
DOOK: Hey, Rolfe, we’re trying to do a show here about Michael Jackson. Why would anybody want your autograph?
ROLFE: Hey, hey, um. Uh. I am Michael’s inspiration, you know. 
(Everyone protests.)
FATZ: Wait, wait, wait, y’all, chill out, chill out. Rolfe’s right. Here’s a song he had to inspire.
NO. 5: BEAT IT
FATZ, BEACH BEAR, & MITZI:
BEAT IT
DOOK, BILLY BOB, & LOONEY BIRD:
BEAT IT
FATZ, BEACH BEAR, & MITZI:
BEAT IT
DOOK, BILLY BOB, & LOONEY BIRD:
BEAT IT
ALL:
NO ONE WANTS TO BE DEFEATED
FATZ:
SHOWING HOW FUNKY AND STRONG IS YOUR FIGHT
IT DOESN’T MATTER WHO’S WRONG OR RIGHT
JUST
FATZ, BEACH BEAR, & MITZI:
BEAT IT
DOOK, BILLY BOB, & LOONEY BIRD:
BEAT IT
FATZ, BEACH BEAR, & MITZI:
BEAT IT
DOOK, BILLY BOB, & LOONEY BIRD:
BEAT IT
ALL:
NO ONE WANTS TO BE DEFEATED
FATZ:
SHOWING HOW FUNKY AND STRONG IS YOUR FIGHT
IT DOESN’T MATTER WHO’S WRONG OR RIGHT
JUST BEAT IT
DOOK, BEACH BEAR, MITZI, BILLY BOB, & LOONEY BIRD:
BEAT IT
FATZ:
BEAT IT
DOOK, BEACH BEAR, MITZI, BILLY BOB, & LOONEY BIRD:
BEAT IT
BEAT IT
FATZ:
YOU BETTER RUN, YOU BETTER DO WHAT YOU CAN
DON’T WANNA SEE NO BLOOD, DON’T BE NO MACHO MAN
YOU WANNA BE TOUGH, BETTER DO WHAT YOU CAN
SO BEAT IT
BUT YOU WANNA BE BAD
SO
FATZ, BEACH BEAR, & MITZI:
BEAT IT
DOOK, BILLY BOB, & LOONEY BIRD:
BEAT IT
FATZ, BEACH BEAR, & MITZI:
BEAT IT
DOOK, BILLY BOB, & LOONEY BIRD:
BEAT IT
ALL:
NO ONE WANTS TO BE DEFEATED
FATZ:
SHOWING HOW FUNKY AND STRONG IS YOUR FIGHT
IT DOESN’T MATTER WHO’S WRONG OR RIGHT
JUST
FATZ, BEACH BEAR, & MITZI:
BEAT IT
DOOK, BILLY BOB, & LOONEY BIRD:
BEAT IT
FATZ, BEACH BEAR, & MITZI:
BEAT IT
DOOK, BILLY BOB, & LOONEY BIRD:
BEAT IT
ALL:
NO ONE WANTS TO BE DEFEATED
FATZ:
SHOWING HOW FUNKY AND STRONG IS YOUR FIGHT
IT DOESN’T MATTER WHO’S WRONG OR RIGHT
JUST BEAT IT
DOOK, BEACH BEAR, MITZI, BILLY BOB, & LOONEY BIRD:
BEAT IT
BEAT IT
BEAT IT
BEAT IT
BEAT IT
FATZ:
BEAT IT
DOOK, BEACH BEAR, MITZI, BILLY BOB, & LOONEY BIRD:
BEAT IT
BEAT IT
BEAT IT
BEAT IT
BEAT IT
FATZ:
BEAT IT
DOOK, BEACH BEAR, MITZI, BILLY BOB, & LOONEY BIRD:
BEAT IT
BEAT IT
BEAT IT
BEAT IT
BEAT IT
BEAT IT
FATZ:
BEAT IT
DOOK, BEACH BEAR, MITZI, BILLY BOB, & LOONEY BIRD:
BEAT IT
BEAT IT
BEAT IT
BEAT IT
BEAT IT
FATZ:
BEAT IT
Better beat it, Rolfe.
BILLY BOB: Okay, well, hey, we had a lot of fun doing Michael’s songs today from his brilliant career, and we can’t wait to see what he has in store for us next! 
BEACH BEAR: Yeah, we could butcher some of that, too.
END.
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Footnotes:
*This vocalization is repeated throughout this section, underscoring the dialogue.
**“ALL” encompasses the center and right stages. Rolfe and Earl do not sing in this number.
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Check out the rest of Magic Night!:
Magic Night Intro/Magic Medley
Fatz's Witch Story/That Old Black Magic
The Magic Touch (Outtake)
Letters to Looney Bird #1/Little Arrows
Abracadabra Medley Intro/Abracadabra Medley
Multiple Voice Syndrome/Puff the Magic Dragon
Ambience Skit/Magic (from Xanadu)
Letters to Looney Bird #2/Every Little Thing She Does is Magic
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