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#squad that fails together stays together

thewulf · 4 months

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Oh, Honey || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - Maybe a Jake x reader where the dagger squad and jake accidentally make her feel insecure? Like Jake and reader have been dating for a couple months so Jake wants to introduce her to them. So Jake throws a little bonfire bbq at his place and the daggers come to meet her... Read Rest Here

A/N: Changed up the ending a smidge. Hope you still love it!! :) My fav trope - angst to fluff, miscommunications galore!

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Word Count: 2,000k +

Brushing down your dress for probably the fifteenth time you let out a slow sigh while looking over yourself in the mirror. You were nervous, terribly nervous. You’d been dating Jake for four months now. You’d learned all about his friends at work. The people he spent more time with than anybody. The people he’d grown to love and adore after going on life threatening missions. See, they kept the group together as a tactical unit after their surprising success bombing the uranium facility. Even more so of a reason to bond. They were the best of friends now. And you were the girlfriend.

Being so nervous you hadn’t heard Jake walk in and watch you with cautious eyes. He too knew you were nervous. You were gentle. So damn gentle. That’s why he went for you. He was so tired of going after the same type of girl and getting the same results, nothing. He’d tried for years and years without much success. The over bubbly bottle blonde wasn’t what was going to suit his fancy. No. It was you.

He'd run into you in the last of places he really expected at the library. His sister and nephews were in town, and they wanted to go. So, he obliged. And thank goodness he did. He always counted his lucky stars with how fortunate he felt that he’d met you.

“You look beautiful.” He spoke in a softer than usual voice trying not to startle you into oblivion.

You still jumped. A small smile brushed across your lips as you spotted him in the doorway of his bedroom, “You scared me.” You let out a soft laugh not really responding to him.

He walked over to you and brought you in for a warm embrace, “Sorry darlin’.” A light but breathy chuckle came from above you. Closing your eyes, you breathed him in slowly trying to slow you rapidly beating heart, “They’re going to adore you.” He whispered before placing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

You nodded gently into his chest, “I sure hope so.” Your wanted to curse as you heard your voice waver unfavorably. Surely, that was going to give you away.

He gave you a gentle squeeze, “You have nothing to be worried about darlin’. If you can handle me you can handle them.”

You giggled at his efforts to calm you down, “You’re quite the handful Jake.”

He hummed, “Maybe so.” He had to agree. But before he could really counter he heard the knocks at his front door, “They’re here.” He clicked his tongue gauging your reaction. Had he calmed you down? Were you going to be okay? Was it too soon? He wanted to collapse in on himself. He’d surely has never been so unsure of himself. He knew how much he liked you. Even loved you. He knew he wanted it to be you. He was so sure of that. But he was so unsure of how to make that happen. Love was always so fleeting for him. He wanted to make sure you would stay. You would always want to be around him. He never knew how to act. But he must’ve been doing something right as you stuck right by his side for the better part of the last four months.

“You don’t say.” You grinned up at him as he pulled away.

He rolled his eyes before giving your side a playful pinch, “Smart ass.”

“Come on. Let’s go get your friends.” You nodded towards the door letting him lead the way. You were trying to put on a brave face, but damn were you terribly nervous.

You heard Natasha’s voice from the side of the house, “I’m really surprised you went for her.” Your breath caught in your throat as you failed to listen to the rest of the comment. ‘She’s so sweet and kind!’ But you didn’t hear that as you back up against the door. Well damn. At least you had thought it was going well.

You heard the group laugh and agree in confirmation. Shit. You really had misread the backyard throughout the night. You thought you and Bob were agreeing on so much. You really thought Natasha wanted to go shopping with you after you told her all the good local spots that didn’t include the gross megamall that swam with people you tried to avoid. You and Javier bonded over your love of the San Diego Padres. But maybe you were wrong. Maybe you’d really misread the situation that badly.

“Agreed! She’s not ridiculously tall and blonde and super talkative.” You could’ve sworn that was Bob’s voice speaking up. It seemed out of character for him. But he clearly didn’t like you. You backed yourself right back into the house. You didn’t hear the ‘She’s an actual human being that can have a real conversation. She’s great Jake,’ from him.

Instead, you frantically grabbed your phone from your back pocket. Thinking too fast you shot Jake a text,

Hey, not feeling super great. Crazy nauseous. Think I’m going to head home.

What you weren’t expecting was his insanely fast response. You thought he’d be engrossed in some conversation or agreement about you. Were you really that bad? Was he agreeing with them? It certainly didn’t sound like he was disagreeing with them.

Hold on darlin. Don’t go. I’ll be right in.

Your eyes went wide as you realized you really didn’t have time to slip out the front door like you’d planned. He’d be walking in the side door any second now. Damn you really hadn’t thought this through. You couldn’t lie to the man. No, you were an awful liar. Terrible actually.

You walked away from the door but just a moment later it clicked open. Jake’s big green eyes softening once he spotted you on the other side of the living room looking more frantic than ill. His eyes scanned your figure for any other signs of what was actually going on. He didn’t waste a second once he’d finished his once over. He walked right on up to you.

“What’s the matter love? My cooking isn’t sending you home is it?” He scanned you again with nothing but concern in his eyes. You didn’t really seem sick. You were just skiddish. He was used to this. Earlier on in the relationship he had to dance around you. Let you get used to his presence. He was so careful with you. And you bloomed right under him into something of your own. You got comfortable with him. Opened up like a book to him. Trusted him more than anything in the world.

“I’ve been feeling a little gross all day.” It wasn’t really a lie. You have felt gross all day. You’d been remarkably nervous over the entire thing.

He cocked his head to the side in slight confusion. He read you like a book though, “Honey, they love you!” He gave your arms a squeeze in reassurance. He seemed so adamant. He didn’t seem like he was lying to you. He seemed so confused. Had you missed something?

“It didn’t sound like it.” It slipped so quickly from your mouth you weren’t sure if you said it out loud or in your head. It was a tossup really.

His face dropped immediately, “What’re talking about darlin’?” His face was laced with nothing but confusion. You’d definitely missed something.

You pursed your lips. Oh well, secrets already out, “She said she was surprised you went for somebody like me.” Your eyes dropped in shame. You felt a little guilty for listening In on their conversation meant for their own ears only.

He pulled your eyes up to look at his, “Then what?” He asked.

You shook your head in confusion, “They all agreed.” You sighed. Why was he making you repeat what you heard.

He shook his head slowly, still holding your chin in his hands, “No love. She said you were sweet. That you were kind. She really likes you. Said she can’t wait for you to take her shopping.”

Well shit. How had you missed that? Your stitched your eyebrows together as you looked for any sign that he could’ve been fooling you. You couldn’t find a sign, “But then Bob said I wasn’t a blonde or talkative.” You repeated trying to justify your actions.

“Oh honey.” He laughed at the situation, not at you. He’d never dream about laughing at you, “You don’t know him well enough to know he was being sarcastic. He said that you were so fun to talk to, could hold an actual conversation.” He ran a hand down your arm trying to give you the reassurance you so clearly needed.

Shaking your head, you felt the nerves bubble back up. You definitely missed that, “I must’ve walked back inside.”

He wrapped you in another tight embrace. This one felt more necessary than the rest. He could feel how anxious you were. How saddened you looked at the thought of his friends not liking you. It warmed his heard at how much you wanted to be accepted by them. You knew how much they meant to him.

“Wish you would’ve stuck around.” He mumbled into your hair while rocking you back and forth ever so gently, “Even had Rooster singing your praises.”

You smiled as you finally started to believe him fully. He wouldn’t have lied to you like that, “Really?” You asked softly. You cheek was resting on his chest as he held you in his comfortable embrace.

“Yeah,” He chucked before pulling you closer into him, “I think they may ever like you more than me. I know Bradley does.”

Your heart swelled with all the love you felt for the man. He always knew what to say. He had a way with words that always left you feeling all the love, “Like that’s hard to do.”

He let out a full belly laugh now, “There she is. There’s my smart ass of a girl.”

“You like it.” You countered, pulling away from his strong hold on you.

He nodded, “I love it.”

You couldn’t help but to smile at that comment, “Noted.”

He hummed before dropping his arms from his hold on you, finally letting you squirm away, “Know what else I love?” He asked. He had a mischievous smirk dancing across his face.

Not having a clue what was coming next you innocently answered his question, “What’s that Jake?”

“You.”

A small gasp escaped your throat. Eyes widening and pupils surly dilated, you gave him nothing but a shocked stare, “What?” Finally squeaked out of your mouth after a few long moments.

“I love you.”

You gaped at him. Now of all times? Now?

“Jake! You dropped that bomb right now?” Your head was dizzy with thoughts. How could you face them again after he just did this to you.

He shrugged, “I think I’ve known for a while. They just helped me realize it.” One of the things you loved about him was the complete lack of pressure to respond to it. He didn’t expect it. He knew you took things slow. He was hardly offended. But he knew he loved you and he needed you to know it.

That was when it all clicked for you too. You loved him too. You loved him beyond your wildest measures. You don’t think you’d be able to live a life without him anymore. He’d changed you completely. Changed you whole.

Your eyes found his again. Yours scanned his pretty tanned face. He was smiling. Patient face on as he waited for your response. Your legs felt like jelly when your eyes finally locked with his, “I love you too.”

The smile that lit his face could make you happy for the rest of your life. God, you couldn’t wait to keep making him smile like that. You knew you were in trouble when he picked you right up in his arms kissing any part of you that he could get his mouth on and whispering sweet ‘I love you’s’ in between. The group be dammed.

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mamachasesmayhem

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ilovetopgunsstuff · 1 month

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heyyy!! i love your writing especially the night shift! i was wondering if i could submit a request for bradley? just him being physically affectionate and always having a hand on you (i feel like that’s his love language idk idk), maybe we’re at the hard deck with the dagger squad and it’s just super fluffy! overall rooster is just hubby material, and maybe there’s a cute kiss or make out sesh outside the hard deck or against his bronco! i trust you haha and i love your writing so whatever you think works! :))

touchy

prompt: it doesn’t matter where you are, but bradley HAS to touch you, it’s his love language it doesn’t matter where on your body: on your arm, thigh, knee. for a tall gruff military guy, he’s like a little teddy bear

warnings: literally js fluff, maybe a little suggestive

a/n: this was such a cute request, hope you enjoy!

“Christ, are you ready yet?” Bradley called from your couch. It was easy for him to say; all he had to do was put on a Hawaiian shirt, a tank top, and jeans. You, however, had to shower, shave your legs, dry and style your hair, do your makeup, pick and outfit, the list goes on.

Bradley acts annoyed, but secretly he enjoys it. He’d wait for you forever. He loved laying on your couch, already dressed for wherever you were going, and listening to you get ready. He’d continue to act annoyed every time, though, cause your little eye roll as he complained was worth it. He was itching to get up and go see you in the bathroom, but you barred him from entering while you were doing your makeup so you could “be in your zone.” He’d pretend he wasn’t bothered by it, but every second he was away from you he wished he wasn’t. He wanted to touch you, kiss you, smell your perfume, anything. He wanted you, all the time.

Tonight, the team was going to the Hard Deck since it was Friday. It was a spot you two would attend regularly, but Bradley loved how done up you got every time you went. Without fail, you were the most beautiful girl in the room, makeup or not, and he’d tell you that over and over.

“Shush,” you replied, spraying one last bit of perfume on before stepping out of the bathroom. You smoothed out your dress, which was light blue, and it hugged your curves so well. You hadn’t looked up at him yet, but you heard a whistle.

He stood up, not hiding that he was looking you up and down. You thought you heard a “damn” whispered under his breath but you weren’t sure. You also weren’t completely sure about your outfit.

“I really don’t know if I like these heels. It was between these and another pair and I might go-“

“You look perfect,” he said as he grabbed both your hands, pulling you into him. You felt his hands snake down to grab your ass, and he couldn’t help but kiss your neck. “So perfect,” he murmured into your skin, “that we could skip the whole bar thing and just stay at home. And if you’re unsure about the shoes, I could take those right off for ya.”

You pulled yourself away from him to keep from possibly agreeing. “Bradleyyy, you love the Hard Deck!”

“That I do,” he said as he pulled you back to him. “You know what I love more?”

“Hm?”

“My girl.”

You could help but shyly smile. “Well,” you stated, “tell her she can wait then.”

He scoffed at your joke as he nuzzled into your neck.

“Come on, let’s go!” you turned around and dragged him by the hand out the front door.

He groaned as he followed after you like a puppy. You walked like this all the way down the gravel path to the driveway. He opened the Bronco door for you on the passenger’s side, then walked around and got into the drivers seat.

As soon as he turned on the car and started driving, his hand took its common place on the inside of your upper thigh. His thumb absentminded rubbed your skin gently. You looked over at him and just watched him. His mustache and hair together looked so good against his tan skin and flowy Hawaiian shirt.

“What?” he was at a red light, and he lolled his head to look at you with his sunglasses on.

“Nothing.”

A small smirk was on his face as he looked back forward, giving your thigh a squeeze.

“I love you,” he murmured.

“I love you, too,” you whispered.

- - -

The Hard Deck was crowded tonight, but it didn’t take long to find your group. You met Phoenix at the bar; she was standing there talking to Penny, who greeted you with a drink. You smiled at her and joined in on their conversation.

Rooster was in the process of being convinced by the guys to play a game of pool.

“Mind if we steal your girl for a little while, Rooster?” Penny called out over the noise of the crowd and music.

“If you promise to give her back.” He smiled at her.

He then kissed you on the cheek from behind, squeezing your hips as he whispered that he’d come find you later before he got dragged off. Your knees almost buckled, you wouldn’t lie. Phoenix looked at you with feigned admiration.

“Aren’t you two just adorable?” she teased.

“Two peas in a pod,” Penny quipped, winking at you.

You couldn’t even be annoyed at them, because you were beaming. “Whatever, guys.”

“So… what’s been going on with you two? Spill!” Phoenix pressed you.

You knew Penny would never ask you that sort of question outright, but she was definitely leaning in to hear.

You loved having girl talk, and you could talk about Bradley for hours and hours, happily bending to Phoenix’s wishes. You glanced over to the pool table to find Bradley laughing with the cue in his hand, a beer in the other. You girls’ conversation went on into the night as you lost track of time.

- - -

Bradley played a tipsy game of pool with Hangman, Bob, and Coyote while the others sat and watched, sipping lazily on beers. He and Bob won of course, and game after game went by into the night. Every once in a while, he’d glance up at you, making sure you were still there and he could still see you. You had no idea how bad he just wanted to take you home in that dress, but he’d wait it out. Seeing you so happy talking with your friends was worth it.

Before he knew it, though, he was a few beers in and he just couldn’t get you off his mind. He checked his watch and time had flown. It had been a few hours since you got here, and it was now a little before 1 AM.

- - -

You’d stopped drinking after your second drink; you didn’t feel like getting drunk tonight. The crowd was dying down and so was your energy.

“Well, ladies, I think it may be time to call it. I’m tapping out,” you told them. They agreed with you.

“I was thinking that also. Need help closing or anything, Penny?” Phoenix asked as she looked around for Hangman, Bob, and Coyote, the group she came with.

“Oh I’m good. Not much left to do around here,” Penny responded as she finished polishing glasses. “You girls have a good night.” You and Phoenix thanked her. Phoenix hugged you goodbye, promising to call you tomorrow and saying that she’d see you at work Monday.

Then it was just you. You looked around at the dwindling crowd, narrowing your eyes to try and find-

Then his familiar arms slid around your waist.

“Hey, baby,” he whispered.

You turned in his arms, and you were now face to face with him. “Hi,” you smiled up at him. “I’m tired.”

“Me, too.” He couldn’t get his hands or gaze off you. He just looked down at you while holding you close. It was his favorite thing to do. “Lead the way.”

And you did, all the way out to his car. The parking lot was void of people except for you two. He hadn’t kissed you in so long. As soon as you got out of sight from everyone he backed you against his car and his lips passionately met yours. His hands roamed so desperately. You hummed in surprise as his hands found the back of your thighs and lifted you onto the hood of his car.

“I’m sorry baby,” he said through kissing you. “I know we should continue this at home, I just want you so bad.”

“Take me home, then,” you said breathlessly. All of your self control was gone by now.

“Gladly.”

And boy did he speed home.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #fanfic #hangman x reader #rooster x reader #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #miles teller #jake hangman fic #jake seresin

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feetinthewaves · 3 months

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Don't breathe, that will disturb the sound - Vivianne Miedema

Summary :

You get annoyed with Vivianne because you can't tell her how you feel, little do you know the blonde feels the same.

Warnings :

Angst(?) with fluff towards the end. This has also not been proofread, I apologise 😔 🤞

Viv and Beth obviously aren't together for the sake of this fic.

Again, I am new to writing like this so feedback is appreciated and actually encouraged !! Thank you, happy reading !!

It was your birthday, and the girls had gone all out planning a party for you, hosting it at your house because it was "easy access for the birthday girl" but in reality you knew they just didn't want to have to deal with it at any of their houses. The party started at 8pm, given it was currently 6.30pm, you and Vivianne, your roommate, began getting yourselves and the house ready. The kitchen table was full of drinks and food for people to eat, a karaoke machine on display in the corner for Beth and Steph, just dance on the tv for Kyra and Leah, and most of the furniture pushed to the side to make room so no matter the state of sobriety, Jonas wasn't going to have to worry about injury.

You watched as Vivianne emerged from her room, sporting a white turtleneck, with black jeans. You couldn't help but stare at your best mate.

You and Viv had been friends ever since she joined arsenal in 2017, and over those 7 years your feelings for yoru best friend slowly began to evolve. And there. was nothing you could do to stop it.

"You're staring schatje," Her voice finally bringing you back around.

"Sorry," You apologised, barely above a whisper, so quiet the blonde hardly caught it at all. Either way the way you had been staring at her had left deep burgundy blush adoring her cheeks, but you were too caught up in your own embarrassment to notice.

You already gotten changed, opting for just a black skirt, tights, and a white button down. Everyone that night would notice the way Viv's eyes stayed glued to you, everyone but you.

The party was in full swing, music blaring over the speakers in your house, you'd had your fair share of dancing with the girls and decided to go and pour yourself another drink in the kitchen.

Thats when you saw her.

Viv.

Talking to some girl you recognised from the Man United squad, 'One of Lessi's friends' you thought to yourself, choosing to ignore them. Before you noticed the way Vivianne was laughing with her.

You broke.

Her laugh was like music to your ears, brightening the room, along with your mood when ever you heard it.

You wanted to be the one to make her laugh like that, the only one to make her laugh like that.

Viv noticed you, as you finally turned away and began making yourself another drink. Back turned to her, what she failed to notice where the tears slipping down your cheeks. You weren't even entirely sure why, but you were sure that you had to avoid Viv for the rest of the night, scared if you even looked into her eyes for 2 seconds you'd tell her everything about how you feel. As you hear her call out your name, you straighten your shoulders, turn around towards her, and walk straight past her.

The blonde grows upset.

Concerned.

Angry.

Of course she does.

She knows that you had heard her shout your name, and she can't quite understand why you had ignored her. Thats when she becomes conscious of the brunette next to hers hand on her thigh, pushing it off, wishing it was you. She begins her journey to find you through the crowd of people.

There you were, sat outside by yourself on the balcony, 'were you crying?' she thought. She was right, now noticing the tear tracks staining your face, removing the concealer from underneath your eyes. Her heart broke.

She'd done this.

And she didn't even understand how.

"Y/n?" she tried quietly, not wanting to startle you, "Y/n, what's wrong?"

You didn't answer her, you wanted to, you really did, but you knew you couldn't. You could waste 7 years of friendship over a silly little crush. But it wasn't a crush. No. You loved her. You really did. Could you tell her that? 'No.' you thought to yourself. She can't know.

"Y/n?" she quietly asked again, "please talk to me,"

Still no answer.

"Schatje?" she tried,

Finally, you looked up at her, straight into her blue eyes, instantly apologising.

"Sorry, god I am so sorry-" you manage to croak out before bursting into tears, the blonde instantly at your side holding you.

"Schatje, what's going on, please tell me, I can't fix this unless you tell me what I've done" she asked, a sense of pleading evident in her voice.

You began to cry harder, and she began to apologise, making you cry harder, she wasn't in the wrong, it was you.

"I'm sorry y/n. I promise, I didn't mean to ruin your evening, especially not on your birthday." panic filling her voice,

"You didn't ruin anything, you made this so much better, just by being here, I'm the one who should be sorry." you manage to sniffle out between tears, hiccuping as you do so, making the two of you find laughter even in a moment like this.

"Schatje, I'm not sure I quite understand, what's going on?" she pressed, annoyance prevalent in her voice this time, showing she wanted an answer and not for you to just start blaming yourself again.

"God Viv, don't you get it?" You began to shout, distancing yourself from the dutch girl by standing up. The atmosphere shifting suddenly, "I hated watching her, that girl, all over you, making you laugh." You're crying again now, you must look pathetic you think to yourself, "I want to be the one to make you laugh Viv. Me. I want that, to be, me. Is that too much to ask?" Your shouting by this point, certain everyone inside can hear you but you're past caring at this point, just wanting Viv to finally understand how you feel.

"Y/n/n?" she asks smirking, "What are you saying?" She knows full well what you mean, but she can't seem to believe that the girl she loves, would ever, feel the same way about her.

"I love you Viv I have done for years. And seeing you flirt with other girls and never notice me hurts okay. God Viv I get that you might not feel the same but wipe that smirk off your face because I thought you'd atleast have enough decency to not make fun of me-" She cuts you off. Kissing you. Your shocked at first, but you soon begin to kiss her back. Its slow and sweet, everything you'd ever imagined.

"Sorry, you wouldn't shut up and I couldn't have you thinking I was laughing at you." she explains after seeing the shock on your face. Shock is an understatement. You are completely dumbfounded at what just happened, Viv notices quite quickly, pulling you into her side with a giggle.

"Y/n/n. Schatje. Ik houd van je." she says quietly, her head dipping into your neck, whispering against your hair.

At that moment then, you are content, in the arms of the girl you love, the girl who loves you back. Your best friend and person.

#woso one shot #vivianne miedema x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #vivianne miedema #woso imagines

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year

Text

North Star.

It's New Years Eve. Jake is tired of waiting.

Pairing - Jake Seresin x female reader

Warnings - None

Word Count - 1638

Author's Note - Thank you so much for all the love on The Orange - I've been giggling and kicking my feet reading all of your comments and tags. I loved writing it, and I loved writing this one too. Please feel free to send me any requests, ideas, prompts, comments or questions - I'll always read them. If I could kiss you all, I would x

Masterlist. Requests.

Multi colored lights adorn the beams of the ceiling. Metallic streamers hang from the bar. Music is blasting from the jukebox. The Hard Deck almost looks unrecognisable.

It's New Years Eve, and The Squad have agreed to spend it together. Hangman, Coyote and Payback are at the dart board, allowing Jake to show off his talent. Bob, Rooster and Fanboy are convened by the pool table, taking turns to shoot, unbothered by who's meant to be sinking what. You and Natasha are standing by the bar, waiting for Penny to serve you when she gets the chance.

"So, come on, who are you kissing at midnight?" Natasha looks at you with a glint in her eye. Mischievous girl.

"Yeah. Right. You, if you're not careful," you warn her, teasing lilt in your voice. Honestly, you don't think she'd be the worst choice in the world.

"As much as I'd love that, I don't think the squad could handle it," she winks at you cheekily. "Seriously, who?"

"I don't know!" you laugh. But that's a lie. You do know. At least, you know who you'd like to kiss.

Jake Seresin. Hangman. America's Sweetheart.

Pilot, Texan, Heartbreaker.

Your friend, your teammate, the man you've been in love with since you met him that first day of basic training.

The two of you were partnered for the first few exercises that day, and you beat every other pair by a mile. You both figured out pretty quickly that you make a damn good team.

That hasn't changed. If ever you have to pair up for an exercise, a mission, or just a class, Jake's eyes find yours immediately. A silent question. Shall we? And your answer, always - of course.

You seem to have your own language, this shared communication. You don't have to speak to know what the other person is saying. On the ground, or in the air, you know each other's next moves. Predictable, but comfortable.

Maybe that's the problem.

You believe strongly that women are more than capable of making the first move. You've thought about grabbing Jake and kissing him stupid more times than you can count. But you don't. Every time there's an opportunity, you brush past it, let it go. Because the comfort isn't worth sacrificing. At least, that's what you're telling yourself.

Your friendship with Jake has been built on years of trust, empathy, and reliance. You know that no matter what, he'll have your back. He's demonstrated it more than once. Countless times. Showing up for you, without fail. When you were harassed by a man at the Hard Deck, Jake showed up. When you had a family member's funeral and didn't want to go alone, Jake showed up. When you broke your wrist and ended up in the hospital, Jake showed up. He was your North Star. Always there, always guiding. Always comforting.

So you can't help but repeatedly ask yourself - why hasn't he made a move? You're convinced you know the answer to that question, though. Because you're friends. He sees you as a friend. A teammate. Which you wouldn't change for the world, not by any means. But it doesn't stop you from wishing that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't hold his cards so close to his chest. Just for a minute.

The Devil Himself sidles over to the two of you, still at the bar, and throws an arm over each of you. Natasha manages to wiggle under and away from him, but you stay put. You don't mind.

"Hey pretty ladies," he beams, "whatcha whispering about?"

"It's kind of impossible to whisper when you keep queueing Duran Duran on the jukebox at full volume, Hangman," Natasha barks back.

He laughs, a real, full bodied laugh that shakes both him and you, still with his arm slung over your shoulder. You laugh with him. It's impossible not to. His laugh is contagious, you think. Unavoidable. He laughs, you laugh. That's the way it's always been.

It's at this moment that Bob pushes his way through the crowd, grabbing Natasha by the hand.

"Phoenix, I need you. Fanboy doesn't believe you can do that pool trick you showed me last week. Come and prove him wrong!"

She grins at you, and allows herself to be pulled into the swarms of people, on her way to earn some respect.

You turn back to Jake at the bar, and see that he's ordered a beer, and your usual. Observant boy.

You take a sip of your drink, only for a drop to miss your mouth entirely. Maybe it's the alcohol, or maybe it's just his impatience, but Jake decides he's tired of waiting. He leans in to you, and slowly, deliberately, follows the journey of the drop with his tongue, from the bottom of your neck up to your jaw. He pulls back, and watches you with that gaze of his. Measured, careful. Adoring. Mischievous. Just so Jake.

You feel the heat rise from your chest and up to your cheeks, but you don't break eye contact with him. It feels like a confession. You're baring your truth to him, silently, and he's understanding. That shared language. You're both saying so much, without saying anything at all.

It's then that you realise where you are. The Hard Deck has somehow become even more crowded, and you keep being bumped left and right by people attempting to get to the bar. The music is too loud, the lights are too bright. You need a minute. As if he can read your mind, Jake speaks.

"Let's get some air. It's hot in here."

He grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers with his, and leads you out of the door, onto the deck outside.

The cool night air hits you both, and you sigh with relief. You allow the breeze to flow through your hair, to ripple your dress, to cleanse you of your worry.

Jake's still holding your hand. Tighter, now. As if he's scared you'll blow away. Or run away, maybe.

You lean into him slightly, and rest your head against his arm. He's warm, soft. He smells like Jake. Like love. Like home.

"You okay?" he asks. Always so worried about you. Attentive boy.

"I'm good. Just a little overwhelmed, I guess."

He starts to rub circles over the back of your hand with his thumb, grounding you. It's all so intimate, you don't know whether to pull him closer or sprint in the other direction.

He makes the decision for you - closer. He kisses your hair, and then rests his head atop of yours. You can hear the squad laughing and cheering inside, all of them completely unaware that out on the deck, two of their teammates are baring their souls to each other.

You have no idea whether it's been two minutes or two hours when Jake speaks again.

"You're the prettiest girl in that bar, you know." Then, he says, a bit quieter, "You're always the prettiest girl in the room."

He says it so sincerely, so earnestly, that you want to rip your heart out of your chest and place it in his hands. You want to give it to him so that maybe he'll finally understand - it's already his.

You don't know what to say, so you bring your interlaced hands up to your lips, and kiss each of his knuckles individually. He's so warm, so golden. Radiating light wherever he goes. Your North Star.

You both listen to the gentle crash of the ocean waves, sitting with the weight of the moment. It feels like with every second that passes, silent revelations are being made. As if the love, the feelings, the comfort, are passing through your hands and into his. You're quite convinced that you could stay right where you are forever.

Bury me like this, you think. Immortalise us here.

All of a sudden, the sound of a countdown breaks through your solitude.

Ten. Nine.

You smile gently, and look at Jake, to see him gazing down at you. Stars in his eyes. Cosmic boy.

Eight. Seven.

He glances inside, to see the squad all gathered together, arms around one another. His family.

Six. Five.

Jake turns to you, and cups your face in both of his hands. Those hands that have picked you up from the ground. Those hands that have wiped your tears. Those hands, so strong, but so gentle. That's him all over, though. Your gentle boy.

Four. Three.

He looks at you with promise in his eyes. You can understand, clear as day, what he's telling you. Life will never be the same, from this day forward. Neither of you can wait.

Two. One.

Jake leans in, and presses his lips to yours. He tastes like spearmint, and the future. One of his hands travels to the back of your neck, to pull you in closer. Now that he has you this near, he knows he's never going to be able to let you go.

Bodies pressed together as close as can be, you kiss him with so much love, you're surprised he hasn't fallen over. He's breathing you in, trying to commit this moment to memory. He knows he'll tell your grandkids about this. Hell, he'll tell any damn person that'll listen.

"Happy New Year, sweetheart," he murmurs against your lips.

"Happy New Year, lover," you whisper back against his.

Bright beams of light appear above your head suddenly. Explosions of color dance across the sky, illuminating Jake's face. You look at him, and feel the urge to burst into tears. He's not watching the fireworks. He's watching you. He's gazing at you like you hung the moon. You're looking at him like he's the North Star, guiding you home. And that's exactly where you are. Home.

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lilacura · 3 months

Text

Halftime kisses | Nakamura Kazuha

pairing: nakamura kazuha x reader

>wc: 500

sypnosis: just fluff :3

Kazuha dribbled the football up and down the field, practicing her shots on goal as sweat poured down her face under the hot afternoon sun. Despite putting her all into practice, her mind kept drifting to the argument she had with Y/N earlier that day.

It had started off innocently enough, with Y/N reminding Kazuha that they had a big test coming up in their shared literature class. But when Kazuha mentioned she needed to stay late for football practice to prepare for their upcoming game, things quickly escalated.

"Your team isn't the only thing in your life, Kazuha!" Y/N had shouted accusingly. "We've barely seen each other this whole semester because you're always at practice. What about your studies? You're going to fail if you don't start focusing more on school."

Kazuha tried to defend herself, but her excuses just made Y/N more angry. In the end, Y/N stormed off without letting Kazuha get a word in edgewise. Now here she was at practice, mentally and physically kicking herself for prioritizing football over her girlfriend.

Just as she took another shot at the goal, Kazuha froze at the sound of upbeat cheering coming from the sidelines. She turned to see the cheerleading squad, including Y/N, running drills of their own at the far end of the field. Kazuha's heart sunk as she realized they must have accidentally double booked the field for practice.

With new determination, Kazuha resumed her drills with vigor, hoping to catch Y/N's attention. She dribbled at top speed, fired shots with laser precision, and showed off with fancier tricks than usual. But no matter how impressive her skills, Y/N refused to even look in her direction. It was clear Kazuha had some serious apologizing and making up to do.

When practice finally ended, Kazuha hurriedly chugged her water bottle before jogging over to the cheerleaders. "Y/N, can we talk?" she asked, slightly out of breath.

Y/N pretended not to hear, busying herself with rolling up her pom poms. Kazuha gently grabbed her arm. "Please, I'm sorry. You were right - I've been neglecting my studies to focus on football. But it's not because I don't care about you or our future together."

Slowly, Y/N turned to face Kazuha with a raised eyebrow, giving her a chance to explain. Kazuha took a deep breath. "Football is important to me, but so are you. I want to make you proud as much as I want to win games. Can you forgive me for losing sight of what really matters?"

For a long moment Y/N was silent, staring into Kazuha's earnest crimson eyes. Then finally, the ghost of a smile flickered on her lips. "I suppose I can find it in me to forgive you, on one condition."

"Anything," Kazuha said instantly.

"Study with me tonight. And no more late night practices without letting me know first, okay?"

Beaming, Kazuha nodded enthusiastically. "Deal! I promise, from now on you come first before any game.” She pulled Y/N into a hug, which was sweetly returned. All was forgiven between the star athlete and her cheerleader sweetheart, who both vowed to find a better balance going forward.

a/n: this was SOOOO rushed im so sorry if it sucks ass

#nakamura kazuha #kazuha x reader #nakamura kazuha x reader #le sserafim #le sserafim kazuha #le sserafim x reader #girl group #gg x reader

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fatecantstopme · 11 months

Text

The Connection

Pairing: Elliot Stabler x reader

Summary: Elliot Stabler is your best friend and has been for years. When he and Kathy get divorced, you let yourself wonder what it would be like to be with him...despite your current relationship status. Elliot's jealously will either bring you together or tear you apart.

Warnings: Divorce. Panic Attack. Gun shot wounds. Mentions of death. Hospital. Cursing. Use of pet names. SMUT, oral (M & F receiving), face sitting, unprotected sex (P in V)

It had been eight months since Elliot and Kathy had divorced. Eight months Elliot had spent alone, trying to figure out what the hell to do next. Eight months of trying to find the words to say and eight months of failing to.

The first couple months after Elliot's divorce, you thought about telling him how you felt--how you'd felt for years. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about it every single day since the moment he told you they were getting divorced.

Your fear of losing your best friend was what stopped you from ever admitting your feelings. You couldn't bear to face that possibility. You’d rather have him as just your friend than nothing at all.

But everything changed for you when you met a handsome stranger just outside your favorite coffee shop on your way to work. Tony, as you would later learn, was an emergency room doctor at Mercy Hospital. He had just recently moved to the city after finishing his residency at a hospital in Chicago.

Before long, you and Tony were inseparable. He was kind, charming, and funny--and he treated you better than any man ever had. You were content, happy even, despite the little voice in the back of your mind. The voice that reminded you of how much you loved Elliot--how much you needed him.

That voice was always strongest when you were together, which meant you started to pull away from him--spending more time with Tony and less with Elliot. Even though the two of you worked together and saw each other nearly every day, you tended to stay in your office and avoid too much actual contact with him if you could.

You felt badly about the distance you'd created, but you didn't know what else to do. If Elliot felt the same way, he'd never even hinted at it, let alone expressed it, so you felt the point was moot. Why put yourself through the pain of rejection if you didn't have to? Plus, you had Tony now. Focusing on your relationship with him had to be your priority.

Elliot was no fool. He watched you pull away from him after you met Tony—and he thought he knew why. He couldn’t stand to hear you talk about him—didn’t want to imagine you with someone else. Someone other than him. He had no right to feel that way and he knew it, but there are just some things you can’t control.

You’d been with Tony for 6 months when Elliot finally reached his breaking point. The two of you, along with Olivia, Munch, and Fin, were in the squad room after a particularly stressful case. You were chatting with Olivia about her latest beau and she inquired about Tony. You told her you had been canceling dinner plans with him for the last week due to your case load, but you were planning on seeing him tonight.

“He’s perfect for you, (Y/N),” Olivia said with a smile. “You always light up when you talk about him.”

You offered her a small smile in return. “He really is amazing.” You leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially. “I think he’s been shopping for rings.”

Olivia’s eyes widened. “How long’s it been?”

“6 months,” you answered.

“Damn. That’s fast.” She shrugged, “but if you know, then you know.”

You opened your mouth to tell her that you didn’t know, but Elliot beat you to it. “Jesus, (Y/L/N), I didn’t expect you to just marry the first guy who jumped in your bed. When did you turn into such a needy slut?”

Your face paled and you stepped back as if he’d slapped you. He knew you well enough to know exactly what to say to hurt you and he didn’t pull his punches.

“What the hell, Elliot?” Olivia snapped.

Elliot avoided making eye contact with you—immediately regretting his outburst. He wasn’t one to apologize, and to be honest, he wasn’t very good at it, but he felt the strong urge to beg for your forgiveness.

“I shouldn’t've—“ he started.

“Leave it,” you cut in. “Whatever it is you were about to say, just don’t.” You grabbed your coat and your bag before turning back in his direction. “I’m going to dinner with a man who treats me with respect and genuinely cares about me. I would think you of all people would be happy for me.” You paused. “I know you're tired and stressed, but you don't have the right to take it out on me. I'm your friend, Elliot, although given what you just said to me, I'm not even sure about that."

With that, you walked out the door, never slowing or sparing a glance behind you.

Elliot felt terrible in more ways than one as he watched you leave. He could feel the gazes of his friends, but he couldn’t bear to look at them. “I’m going home,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, maybe you should get some sleep before you insult anyone else,” Fin said none too gently.

In any other situation, Elliot would have clapped back, but the fact that he'd just hurt you like that made him keep his mouth shut. He threw on his coat and stormed out of the precinct before anyone else could speak.

The entire way home, Elliot was fuming. He was mad at himself, mad at Tony, but most of all he was mad at you. Mad that you found someone who fit you so perfectly. Mad that you wanted someone else. Mad that you were happy. God help him--he felt terrible for it--hated himself, even. What kind of person felt this way about their best friend? Wasn't he supposed to be your number one supporter? Your biggest champion?

He was filled with regret as he entered his small apartment. It was mostly empty and completely devoid of personality. He had pictures of his kids, but not much else.

There was, however, one particularly special picture in the living room. He walked over to it and picked up the frame, his heart clenching as he stared at it. It was a picture of you and him on a random Saturday. He'd dragged you to the park for an early morning run, which he knew you hated. You'd gotten your revenge by pushing him into a pond beside the running path.

After you'd stopped laughing, you tried to help him out of the water, but he pulled you in with him, leaving you both soaking wet and laughing hysterically. When you made it back to dry land, you'd dragged him close and snapped a picture of the two of you--muddy, wet, and laughing.

The picture really showcased your personality--light, bubbly, happy, and just a bit goofy. It was his favorite picture and one of his favorite moments with you...it was the moment he realized he loved you. A feeling he'd never expressed, even though he'd felt it long before he and Kathy solidified their divorce.

It was almost two years later and he still hadn't told you how he felt. And now that he was a free man--and had been for a while--you'd found the man of your dreams. He'd managed to blow his chance to be with you and now it was too late.

The picture suddenly became blurry and he sat it back down on the table before wiping his eyes. He wasn't good with emotions and he was thankful no one was there to witness this particular display.

He tried to push all thoughts of you from his mind as he wandered around his kitchen, scrounging up something to eat. He tried not to picture you at dinner with Tony. He tried not to imagine what you would do after dinner. He tried not to think about anything at all...but no matter what he did, you plagued his mind from the moment you'd walked out the door. He decided to go out to a bar and get himself a drink or two. It was Friday after all and he'd had a long week. Why not blow off some steam?

You weren't in the best of moods when you met Tony for dinner that night. Elliot's words echoed in your ears and the feeling of hurt had yet to dissipate. He'd never lashed out at you like that before. Not once. You'd heard him do it to other people, especially when he was angry or frustrated--but he'd never done it to you. You weren't sure what it meant now that he had, but you were certain it wasn't good.

Tony picked up on your mood immediately and he was obviously concerned. He'd asked if you were alright, if you wanted to reschedule...but you'd told him it had just been a long week and not to worry.

"You seem distracted, (Y/N)," Tony commented gently. "Are you sure you're okay?"

You looked up from the food you'd been playing with on your plate and sighed. "Sorry, Tony. I've got a lot on my mind."

He nodded. You could tell he wanted to probe deeper, but he wisely opted to back off. He started to chatter about some new resident at the hospital, complaining about how green the kid was, and your mind began to drift.

You knew you should have been paying attention, but you really couldn't find the energy to--or perhaps desire was the better word. All you could think about was Elliot. When had everything gone so wrong? How did it all become so fucked up? Why did you care so much? He clearly didn't.

A single tear slid down your cheek and dropped onto your plate, surprising you out of your thoughts. You hadn't realized you'd been crying until that moment. You quickly wiped your eyes, hoping Tony wouldn't notice. When you glanced up at him, you knew he'd seen and you could tell he wanted to know what the hell was going on.

The problem was, you weren't even sure what was happening. Why did you feel so damn sad? As you stared at Tony, you realized there was only one person you wanted to talk to about it...and it wasn't the man in front of you. You were hurting and you only wanted the man who'd hurt you. How fucked up was that?

"Seriously, babe, what's going on?" Tony asked gently, concern lacing his voice.

You shook your head. "I don't really wanna talk about it."

"Okay...I wouldn't normally push, but you were literally just crying into your pasta."

"I'm aware, Anthony," you said rather harshly.

He winced slightly and you sighed sadly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to snap," you said softly.

"It's okay."

There was something about the placating tone of his voice that just set you off. "No it's not! None of this is okay! I'm not okay!"

He was clearly taken aback by the intensity of your outburst and you found yourself feeling incredibly embarrassed...and perhaps a bit annoyed.

"I just--I just wanna go home," you mumbled.

"Okay," he said gently. "Why don't you go wait in the car. I'll pay the bill."

He handed you the keys and you practically ran out of the restaurant. You couldn't explain what you were feeling--it was like you were suffocating, like the very air you were breathing was toxic. Your heart was pounding out of your chest and everything just felt wrong. Your vision started to darken and you felt like you were being crushed...you fell to your knees on the sidewalk, body shaking as you started to hyperventilate.

Moments later, Tony came rushing out and dropped to his knees beside you. You could hear him asking you what was wrong, but you couldn't answer him. You hadn't recognized the signs at first, but somewhere inside you, you knew you were having a panic attack. You couldn't explain why and you certainly couldn't tell him what was happening.

You heard Tony say something about an ambulance, but your brain was too foggy to comprehend what was happening. You'd had panic attacks all your life, but this one felt different--it came on even more suddenly and it was more intense than any attack you'd ever had before. Something about it felt final...deadly.

You heard the sounds of sirens in the distance, and at first you thought they were headed for you, but they never seemed to move any closer. Your vision was almost black, your head was pounding, and you felt as if your body was full of lead--you knew you were moments away from passing out. The last thing you heard was the ringing of a cellphone in close proximity to you. Just as you realized the phone was yours, you succumbed to the blackness of unconsciousness.

A couple blocks away, an ambulance and several police officers were responding to a call for shots fired at a local bar. According to the call, one man was dead, one was critically injured, and four more were wounded.

Witnesses said a man had opened fire inside the bar after an argument had escalated. After the first few shots rang out, another man had gotten up from his seat, pulled out his gun, and identified himself as police. The first gunman pulled the trigger twice, shooting the police officer twice in the chest. As he was falling to the ground, he pulled his own trigger, killing the gunman almost instantly with a shot directly to the heart.

The officer laid on the ground, blood seeping from his wounds, terror gripping his body. His only thought was of his family, and how he would never get to see them again.

He could hear voices all around him, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. His eyes were glazed and unfocused, and he was beginning to feel cold. He knew what that meant, even if he didn't want to admit it.

He heard the scream of sirens followed by the sound of footsteps near him. He heard a man's voice ask a question, but he didn't hear the response.

He heard snippets of what was said, "Gun," "argument," "scared,"...but the one that caught his attention was "Benson." He didn't understand why someone had said his partner's name and he tried to ask, but his voice came out as nothing but incoherent sounds.

The sound of more sirens neared and he began to drift towards sleep or death...he wasn't sure which one. His eyes had closed and his body felt heavy as he took what he feared would be his last few breaths.

"Detective Benson," Olivia answered on the second ring.

"Hi, Detective. This is Officer Bailey."

"Hey, Bailey. You got a case for me?"

"Not exactly, ma'am..." he paused. "It's your partner. Detective Stabler?"

Olivia felt her blood go cold. "What about him?"

"He was involved in an incident at O'Malley's Bar on 5th," Bailey said slowly. "Bar fight turned deadly. Apparently, Detective Stabler shot the gunman."

She inhaled sharply. "Is he alright?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line that told Olivia everything she needed to know. "How bad is it?" she asked softly.

"It's bad, detective. They're taking him to Mercy Hospital. You should probably go there."

Olivia's first thought was of Elliot's kids--she needed to call them when she had more information. She didn't want to scare them if she didn't need to. "Thanks for the call. I'm heading over there now."

She hung up, grabbed her keys and her coat, then ran out the door. She intended to drive with lights and sirens to get there--policy be damned.

When she got to the first floor of her apartment building, it suddenly hit her that she should call you. Even after his comments earlier that day, Elliot was still your best friend. You'd want to know if something happened to him and you'd be beyond pissed if Olivia didn't tell you right away.

She called your phone several times as she drove to the hospital, each time leaving a voicemail begging you to call her back.

She was thankful she lived so close to the hospital and she made it there in record time. She pulled up to the emergency room entrance just as an ambulance pulled up to the front doors.

Olivia quickly got out of her car and jogged towards the entrance, but she stepped aside as EMS rushed someone through the doors. Olivia's face paled as she got a good look at the person on the gurney--you.

She ran in after them, practically running right into Tony as he came in. Olivia recognized him immediately. "What the hell happened?" she asked in a rush.

Tony looked over at her in surprise, as if he was just realizing she was there. A look of recognition crossed his face, but it was quickly replaced with confusion. "She, uh--I don't know. She collapsed outside the restaurant." He eyed her carefully. "What are you doing here?"

"Elliot was involved in some sort of altercation at a bar. They brought him here, so I came down to figure out what the hell happened."

Tony looked shocked. "When?"

"About 15 minutes ago."

Tony's face paled. "That's right about when (Y/N) collapsed..."

Olivia's eyes widened. "What are the odds of that?"

He shook his head. "I'm gonna say extremely unlikely."

She sighed and shook her head too. "I need to check in with the front desk and see what they know."

The ladies at the front desk informed Olivia that Elliot had received two GSWs to the chest and was currently in surgery. They promised to keep her updated and let her know if anything changed. She also asked them to keep her updated on your status as well. It didn't seem likely that the two incidents were connected, but she had to admit it was really damn weird.

Olivia joined Tony in the waiting room and made several phone calls to Elliot's kids and the rest of her team. She wanted to make sure they all knew what was going on. The kids were out of town with Kathy, but Fin, Munch, and Cragen all promised to come down to the hospital immediately.

When they arrived, the five of them sat in the waiting room in silence. None of them knew what to say.

About an hour after the others had arrived, a nurse came into the waiting room. "(Y/L/N)?" she called.

Tony looked up at the sound of your name. He jumped out of his seat and walked towards the nurse. "Is she okay?" he asked urgently.

The nurse nodded. "She's awake and asking for someone named Elliot."

Olivia made eye contact with Fin, who was sitting across from her. He shared her knowing glance before they both looked in Tony's direction.

"Oh, um...I'm her boyfriend. Would I be able to see her?"

The nurse nodded again. "Sure, Dr. Cooper. She's in 103."

Tony immediately headed towards your room without waiting for the nurse to follow. Olivia got up and walked over to the nurse before she could walk away. "Excuse me," she called.

The nurse turned back to her. "Yes?"

"You said (Y/N) was asking for Elliot?"

She nodded. "You know him?"

Olivia nodded her affirmation. "He's my partner. He was brought in about 2 hours ago for GSWs to the chest. I believe he's in surgery right now."

The nurse paled. "Dr. (Y/L/N) didn't have any noticeable injuries. Was she there when he was shot?"

Olivia shook her head. "She was a couple blocks away. We're not sure what happened to her."

"The doctor said it was probably an intense panic attack, based on the symptoms Dr. (Y/L/N) described."

Olivia was a little surprised, but she didn't say it. "Thank you."

The nurse nodded and headed back into the patient area. Olivia returned to her coworkers and shared the information she'd just received.

"A panic attack?" Fin asked in surprise.

Olivia nodded. "That's what the nurse said."

"At the same time Elliot got shot?" Munch asked.

"Roughly, yeah." Olivia confirmed.

"What the hell are the odds of that?" Cragen asked.

"I'd say a million to one," Munch answered.

"At least she's gonna be okay," Fin said softly.

They all nodded their agreement. No one wanted to mention their fears about Elliot's survival...they just had to hope he would pull through.

You'd been surprised to find yourself in the hospital when you awoke, but you quickly realized the intensity of your panic attack must have literally knocked you out. Tony wouldn't have known what was happening, so of course he called 911.

You checked your phone as soon as you woke up and discovered you had several missed calls and messages from Olivia. You listened to the most recent one and felt the blood drain from your face.

"(Y/N), please answer your phone! I'm getting worried. Elliot's been in some sort of altercation and it's bad. I don't know what's going on, but I'm on my way to the hospital. Please call me." Olivia's voice sounded panicked, so you knew it must be really bad.

You pressed your call button and the moment a nurse walked into the room you asked for Elliot. The nurse told you she didn't know who that was, but she said she'd go out to the waiting room to see.

Much to your dismay, the person who walked into your room 5 minutes later, was Tony. You felt terrible for feeling that way, but not seeing Elliot standing in your doorway confirmed your worst fears.

"Elliot?" you whispered, the meaning of your question very clear.

Tony sighed as he came to the side of your bed. "He's in surgery," he said gently.

Your skin was already pale, but you turned white as a sheet upon hearing those words. "What happened?"

"He was shot twice in the chest. Some guy shot several people during a bar fight and Elliot stopped him."

"How bad is it?" You didn't really wanna ask, but Tony was an ER doctor after all...he would know and he wouldn't lie to you.

His expression was sad. "It's bad, (Y/N/N)," he said honestly. "It's really bad."

You couldn't stop the tears from sliding down your cheeks. You didn't want to ask more questions--didn't really wanna know--but you needed to. "What are the odds?"

Tony shook his head, not wanting to upset you further.

"Anthony, please," you begged.

He sighed. "He might not make it through surgery, but even if he does, the chances of survival are slim. He lost a lot of blood and there was internal damage from the bullets."

You closed your eyes and took a shuddering breath. "Where's Olivia?" you whispered.

"She's out in the waiting room. Want me to get her?"

"Please," you said so softly he barely heard you.

A few minutes later, Tony reappeared in the doorway with a distraught Olivia. She pushed past him and into your room, quickly crossing the short distance to your bedside. Tony backed out of the room and out of sight.

"How are you feeling?" she asked worriedly.

"I'm fine," you answered. "I don't understand how this could happen."

Olivia knew what you meant, but she didn't have a good answer for you. Elliot didn't frequent bars alone, nor was he the type to get into any kind of bar fight. But honestly, what really bothered her was the timing of your panic attack. "Why did you have a panic attack?"

You looked at her in surprise. "I--I don't really know. It just came on suddenly."

"Right when Elliot was in trouble? That just seems...odd."

"I can't explain it. I was outside waiting for Tony to pay the bill and it hit me. I was on my knees, unable to breathe, in mere seconds."

"You know I'm not a superstitious person and I don't really believe in any of that mystical stuff, but if I did...I'd say you felt something happen to him and that's why you had the attack."

You wouldn't classify yourself as some kind of mystic either, but you were a psychologist. You'd spent years studying the human mind, and nothing about it made complete sense. The brain is the most complex part of human anatomy...so complex, in fact, that we may never fully understand it.

"I suppose it's possible," you began slowly. "We know there are examples of minds being connected in inexplicable ways, the best example being that of twins. Twins claim to be able to sense each other and understand each other in ways the rest of us could never really understand. Twins a 1,000 miles away from each other claim to know the exact moment their twin died. Some people claim to have similar bonds with siblings and significant others. So while it seems unlikely, it is entirely plausible that such a connection could be formed between two people."

"If anyone was to have a connection like that, it would be you and Elliot."

"What makes you say that?"

Olivia gave you a knowing look, one you'd seen on her face countless times before...just never directed at you. "I might not be a profiler, (Y/N), but I'm not an idiot. It doesn't take a good detective to know that the bond between you and Elliot is different--special."

"He's my best friend," you conceded, although you knew that was not what she meant.

"This goes way beyond friendship," she said simply.

She didn't elaborate and you didn't need her to. Some part of you knew she was right, or at least suspected it. But if her idea of this connection was accurate--and your interpretation of the meaning was accurate--then didn't that imply your feelings were not one-sided?

You weren't sure if you were ready to admit it, but this revelation changed everything for you. In that moment, you decided if Elliot survived this, you would tell him how you feel...consequences be damned.

**********

Two weeks went by without much change or improvement in Elliot's status. He'd made it through surgery, but he'd been in a coma ever since. The doctors weren't quite sure why...there didn't appear to be a medical cause.

You visited Elliot every single day, sometimes spending hours at his bedside talking to him. If there was even the slightest chance he could hear you, it was worth it.

That first night in the hospital had changed a lot of things for you, and it made you realize you couldn't keep pretending anymore. You broke things off with Tony, unable to lead him on any longer. He was surprisingly understanding about it, despite the obvious hurt.

The rest of the squad would stop by periodically to check in on Elliot and to see how you were holding up. You'd come back to work right away, but you'd made yourself as scarce as possible. You weren't ready to face the possibility that Elliot may never wake up, even if your coworkers were.

It was week three of Elliot's coma when you were called to testify in court for an SVU case. It wasn't a case you wanted to relive, but you'd played a vital roll in identifying the offender and your testimony was crucial.

You'd testified for a day and a half before you were finally released from court. Having done your duty, you pulled out your phone to check your messages. You were surprised to see several missed calls--all from Olivia.

Your heart clenched in your chest and terror froze your body in place. You weren't sure you wanted to listen to the message she'd left...you wanted to live in this moment just a while longer. In this moment, in this world, Elliot was still alive, but if you listened to that voicemail, that world might shatter.

You forced your body to move, making your way to a more secluded part of the courthouse before taking a deep breath and pressing 'play' on the voicemail.

"I know you're in court, but I wanted to make sure you heard this as soon as you finished up. We're all at the hospital--Elliot's awake!"

You didn't listen to the rest of the message--nothing else mattered. All you heard was "Elliot's awake!" and you were already running towards the exit. You ran at top speed all the way out of the building and to your car, pushing past anyone who got in the way.

When you reached your car, you jumped in the driver's seat and took off, ignoring almost every single traffic law in existence. All that mattered was getting to the hospital--all that mattered was Elliot.

After parking your car, you raced into the hospital and into the elevator, angrily pressing the button for the 3rd floor repeatedly. When the doors finally opened to the ICU, you sprinted from the elevator and down the hall towards Elliot's room.

You were breathless when you reached the doorway of his room, but you didn't care. Olivia, Munch, Fin, and Cragen all stood around the bed and they turned towards the door when they heard you.

You barely noticed any of them. Your focus was entirely on the man sitting up in bed, his bright blue eyes locked on yours. "Elliot," you breathed softly.

Every single person in that room felt the air shift when you entered. It didn't take a trained investigator to recognize the tension in the air. You didn't move from the doorway and your gaze didn't leave Elliot's face.

"Why don't we give you guys a moment alone?" Cragen suggested as he started to back out towards the door.

The other three followed their captain, Olivia shutting the door as she exited the room.

"Hey," Elliot murmured once the two of you were alone.

"Hi," you said softly, voice catching slightly as your emotions washed over you.

"Come here," he coaxed.

You crossed the room, stopping when you reached the side of his bed.

The two of you stared at each other in silence, emotions threatening to overwhelm both of you. It felt like everything inside you bubbled up all at once and you gasped, "I'm sorry."

Elliot spoke his apology at the exact same time. "I'm sorry."

You both let out a breathy laugh, some of the tension easing from your bodies.

"What do you have to be sorry for?" Elliot asked.

"I shouldn't have ever questioned our friendship. It was cruel."

He shook his head. "If anyone was cruel, it was me. Frankly, I deserved way worse than what you said. I didn't mean a word of it, (Y/N), not a single word."

"I know--" you began.

"Let me finish," he cut in insistently. You fell silent, allowing him to continue. "I shouldn't have called you a slut. I shouldn't have judged your relationship--it wasn't my place. I was upset and I took it out on you...it wasn't fair and I'm sorry. You deserve better."

"I appreciate that," you said quietly. "But why did you say it? You're never cruel to me...ever."

The pain in your voice nearly broke his heart in two. "I was mad at you," he mumbled. "It's stupid and it doesn't matter 'cause you're with Tony anyway and you're happy and I should be happy toorightbecauseyou'remybestfriend--"

You grabbed his arm to bring his attention back to you and cut off his ramble. "You can breathe now," you teased you lightly.

He chuckled. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I think it's cute when you ramble like that."

He rolled his eyes. "Great. I'm cute."

You grinned. "Very cute," you said in a teasing tone. As you looked at him, your smile slipped and a sad expression slid into place. "I thought I was going to lose you," you whispered.

He grabbed your hand and squeezed it tightly. "I'm harder to get rid of than that."

Tears filled your eyes, despite your attempt to smile. "What happened, Elliot?"

"They didn't tell you?"

"I know the official story, but I wanna hear it from you."

"I needed to blow off some steam, so I went to the bar for a couple drinks. Some guy got into an argument, pulled out a gun, and started shooting...so I shot back."

Your eyes fluttered closed. "You could have been killed."

"But I wasn't."

"But you could have been!" you said loudly. "Why the hell did you go to that bar alone? Why didn't you just stay home? You could have called someone to go with you! You could of--"

"(Y/N)," Elliot cut in gently. "I'm okay."

You realized you'd been rambling and you inhaled deeply to catch your breath. "I was so scared," you whispered. "When I woke up and Olivia told me what had happened...it felt like my world was falling apart. All I wanted was to see you, but you were still in surgery. Even when you finally made it to recovery, they wouldn't let me see you because they wanted to keep me for observation overnight."

"Wait, what? Who wanted to keep you for observation?" he asked, confused.

"The hospital," you answered. "I got here about 5 minutes after you."

"What?" His eyes scanned over your body, checking for wounds or signs of injuries. "Why? What happened? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you assured him gently. "It was just a panic attack."

He looked even more confused. "A panic attack?"

"It was intense," you admitted. "I passed out and Tony called 911. I didn't know what happened to you until I woke up in the hospital and listened to my voicemails from Olivia."

"I thought you usually knew when a panic attack was coming on."

"This one was weird. It hit me suddenly and literally brought me to my knees." You paused. "Anyway, I'm fine. How are you feeling?"

"Sore," Elliot admitted. "My chest feels like an elephant is sitting on it."

"Do you need pain meds? I can get the nurse--" you turned to call for the nurse, but he grabbed your arm to stop you.

"No, please--don't go."

You turned back to him. "I'm not going anywhere, but if you're in pain, the nurse can help."

He shook his head. "The meds make me sleep. I don't wanna sleep."

"Alright, but if the pain becomes unbearable, please tell me."

"I will," he promised. "I just want to talk to you for a while longer."

You smiled. "I can't say no to that."

For the next several minutes, you helped Elliot get caught up on everything that had happened in the last three weeks, leaving out a few key things about changes in your life until the end.

"I, uhh--I broke up with Tony," you mumbled quickly.

Elliot's eyes widened and you swore his face lit up before he tried to hide it. "Oh? I'm sorry, (Y/N/N). I know you really liked him."

You shrugged. "He's a good man and he'll make a great husband for someone, just not me."

"So...why'd you break up with him?"

"He deserved to be with someone who loved him the way he loved me and I knew I'd never be able to."

"Why not?" Fuck subtlety, he thought to himself.

You laughed breathily. "Good lord you're full of questions."

"That's not an answer."

You shot him a look of annoyance, but he knew you weren't actually upset. You were clearly trying to decide how to answer his question...and how much information you really wanted to give him.

"You can't love more than one person at the same time. At least not fully."

He raised his eyebrows. "Who do you love?"

"Elliot," you groaned softly. "Why does it matter?"

"I want to know." I need to know.

You sighed heavily. "How long have we known each other?"

He was clearly confused by your question, but he answered it anyway. "Eight years?"

You nodded. "And you were married for most of it, right?"

"As far as I'm aware, yes," he said in boorish tone.

"Six years, Elliot. Six whole years of my life," you said softly.

"What do you mean?"

You bit your lip and stared at the blanket covering his chest, unable to look at his face as you answered his question. "That's how long I've loved you," you whispered.

He'd waited two very long years to hear you say those words, but he'd never actually imagined you would ever say them. He was so stunned by your admission that he found himself rendered mute.

The seconds ticked by and you started to feel incredibly foolish and embarrassed. "Please say something," you begged.

He realized he'd been silent for too long and he rushed to say the words that had lived in his heart for so long. "I don't really know when I fell in love with you, (Y/N), but I'll never forget the moment I realized I loved you, and I don't think I'll ever be able to stop loving you."

Your jaw nearly hit the floor as your eyes shot up to meet his. You'd never dreamed he'd feel the same...at least not until three weeks ago. Perhaps Olivia was right after all--perhaps you really were connected in a deeper way. "El..."

"You don't have to say anything," he whispered.

"I love you," you said simply.

His chest ached from more than just the gun shot wounds. "I love you too."

You let out an awkward chuckle. "So what do we do now?"

"Right now?" he asked. "Well right now, you're going to kiss me because I can't really move."

You laughed warmly before leaning in and placing a soft kiss to his warm lips. The moment your lips connected, it just felt right. Everything about him felt right.

"As much as I'd love to kiss you until one or both of us passes out from lack of oxygen, I think I might need those painkillers instead," he said softly, finally letting the pain creep into his voice.

You nearly smacked him. "How long have you been in this much pain?"

"Doesn't matter. This was more than worth it."

You glared at him, but the glare quickly softened to an affectionate expression of concern. "I'll get the nurse."

You returned moments later with the nurse in tow. She gave Elliot a shot of morphine to dull his pain. It didn't take long for him to drift back off to sleep.

You settled into a chair beside his bed, content to stay beside him for as long as the hospital staff would let you.

**********

Four days later, Elliot was finally released from the hospital. You insisted he come to your place because there was absolutely no way you were going to let him be alone yet. Much to your surprise, he didn't argue, if anything he seemed glad for your insistence.

"At least I don't have to give you a tour," you said with a smile as you held the door open for Elliot.

"I've only been here 100 times," he teased.

You closed the door behind him and watched as he moved slowly towards the couch. You knew he was still in pain, though he likely wouldn't admit it.

"Do you need anything?" you asked tentatively as he sunk down onto the couch with a muffled groan.

"Nah, I'm fine."

You knew better than to argue with him. "How 'bout we order Chinese for an early dinner? I don't really feel like cooking."

"God, yes. That sounds amazing."

"Hospital food that bad?" you teased.

"Worse."

You laughed and went to the kitchen to grab the number for your favorite take out place. You ordered enough food to feed a small army before settling onto the couch beside Elliot.

"Okay, so here's the options: we can watch TV, we can sit in silence and awkwardly stare at the wall, or we can talk."

"I vote for the awkward staring."

You laughed. "TV it is."

You turned the TV on, but nothing seemed particularly interesting. Eventually you settled on some mindless drama.

You pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it across your lap. "Do you need one?"

"I'm good."

A few quiet moments went by before Elliot cleared his throat. You looked over at him, but he didn't say anything. You turned back to face the TV, but he started shifting beside you, as if he was restless.

"El?"

"Hmm?"

"What's wrong? Are you in pain?"

He shook his head. "Not really. It's just--well it's just that you're kinda far away."

You raised an eyebrow as you regarded him. "I don't wanna hurt you."

"Well, I wanna hold you and I don't really give a damn if it hurts me."

You offered him a small smile. "I'll be gentle."

You moved closer to him and laid your head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close, wincing slightly as he shifted. Once you'd both gotten comfortable, your focus went back to the TV.

About 20 minutes later, the buzzer for the door went off and you jumped up to answer it. You let the delivery guy in the main doors and waited for him to reach your apartment.

"Do you always let the delivery guy in?" Elliot asked.

"Yeah."

"It's not safe, (Y/N)."

A knock at your door alerted you to the presence of your dinner. You opened the door, took the food, and paid before shutting the door behind him.

"I've never had any issues," you commented.

"We know plenty of people who have," Elliot said softly.

You glanced over at him and sighed. "El, I've been living alone for most of my adult life. I'm painfully aware of the dangers of being a single female in this city, and I'm always careful."

He nodded, but he didn't look like he really wanted to let it drop.

You walked back into the living room and started laying out the takeout boxes on the coffee table. "Dinner is served."

He inhaled deeply. "Damn that smells good."

"Thank you. I slaved away in the kitchen for hours to make it for you."

He laughed warmly. You saw the look of pain cross his face, the laughter clearly aggravating his wounds.

"At least take a couple Tylenol," you begged.

He sighed. "Will it make you feel better?"

"Yes."

"Fine. I'll take a couple."

The two of you had managed to eat a large portion of the food you'd ordered and you'd gotten Elliot to take some pain medication. All in all, you felt very successful.

The two of you were curled up on the couch watching a movie. Your head was in Elliot's lap, a blanket covering your body, and his arm draped across your torso.

At some point, his hand began to play with your hair and gently trace meaningless designs against your skin. The motion relaxed you and you sighed contentedly. Your eyes drifted closed and you knew you should get up go to bed, but you were simply too warm and comfortable to get up.

Next thing you knew, Elliot was gently shaking you awake. "Sweetheart? It's late. You should go to bed."

You let out a little groan. "But I'm so warm."

He chuckled. "You'll be nice and warm in your bed too. Come on," he coaxed.

You grumbled softly as you sat up. You dragged your weary body off the couch and started to walk back towards your bedroom. When you realized Elliot wasn't following you, you turned around. "Coming?"

"Oh, I--uh...I can sleep on the couch, ummm--if you want."

"We're adults, Elliot. We can share a bed."

"Thank god," he said as he slowly made his way towards you. "Your couch isn't comfortable to sleep on."

"Hey! You've never complained before."

"That's because sleeping in your bed was never an option before."

"I suppose you have a point."

He followed you into your room and chuckled softly as you crawled directly into bed, not even bothering to change into your pajamas. He walked to the other side of the bed and stood there for a moment, clearly unsure of what to do.

"You okay?" you asked.

"I, uhh, I normally wear a lot less clothing when I sleep."

"Oh," you mumbled with a blush. "Umm, you can get comfortable. I don't mind."

"I'll keep some stuff on for modesty," he teased lightly. "I just gotta lose the sweatpants or I'm gonna sweat to death in the middle of the night."

You laughed. "We wouldn't want that."

He quickly shed his pants before crawling into the bed beside you. "Shit," he said with a sigh. "You've been holding out on me."

"Huh?"

"This bed is 1,000 times more comfortable than the couch."

You laughed and very lightly smacked his arm. "You're the worst. You're lucky I let you share in this great comfort."

He grinned. "I feel very lucky. I'd even go so far as to say I feel honored."

You blushed. "Oh hush. Go to sleep, you dork. I'll see you in the morning."

You turned off the bedside lamp and settled back into the bed.

"Goodnight, (Y/N)."

"Goodnight, Elliot."

**********

For the next couple weeks, Elliot was on desk duty at work, which meant he had much more time to spend with you. On slow days, he would come sit in your office and chat with you for hours until someone (usually Cragen or Olivia) came looking for him.

Even though he was more than capable of living alone again, Elliot was still crashing at your house. You'd insisted at first, but it had become a comfortable routine that neither of you were quite ready to break.

The rest of the squad started to notice the change in your relationship too. Elliot was much more affectionate towards you, both physically and verbally. He'd use terms of endearment as often as possible and he was always within arms' reach of you.

The shift in dynamics really became obvious when you and Elliot continued to arrive together to work in the morning after the doctors had cleared him for duty.

"Okay, I'm tired of dancing around this shit," Fin spoke up when you and Elliot walked in the door together.

"Dancing around what?" Olivia asked.

"That," he responded, pointing at you two.

"What about us?" Elliot asked.

"Are you still living with (Y/N)?"

"Yeah," he answered with a shrug.

"So are you dating?" Fin probed.

Elliot shrugged off his jacket and plopped down in his desk chair. "Yeah."

Three surprised voices started peppering you with questions. "Since when?" "Why didn't you tell us?" "How long has this been going on?"

"Guys!" you yelled as you threw up your hands. You were surprised that Elliot had admitted to the relationship so freely. You hadn't discussed keeping it a secret or anything like that, but you also hadn't discussed if and when you were going to tell everyone. "Can you at least wait until I put my bag down before you verbally assault me?"

The questions and comments continued, but were now aimed at Elliot as you made a beeline to your office to drop off your bag and coat.

Before you could make it back to the squad room, there was a gentle knock on the doorframe. "Got a second?"

You turned around at the sound of Cragen's voice. "Sure," you answered as you leaned back against your desk. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I may have overheard the commotion in the squad room when you and Elliot got in."

"Oh."

"Were you planning on telling me?"

"Honestly, sir, we hadn't discussed it. We didn't even really discuss our relationship...it just sort of happened."

"Near-death experiences will do that to you."

You nodded. "It was rather eye-opening for both of us, I think."

"Not as much for the rest of us."

"What do you mean?"

Cragen smiled. "It doesn't take a good detective to see how much the two of you care about each other, even long before Elliot got shot."

You blushed. "I tried not to be obvious."

"I make it a point to know my people, (Y/N), and I pay attention."

"I hope our relationship isn't going to be an issue, sir."

He shook his head. "I'm not worried about the two of you one bit. You've always been professional and I don't think admitting you love each other out loud will change that."

"I appreciate that, sir. I know Elliot will too."

Cragen just offered you a simple smile before making his way back towards the squad room. You followed slowly behind him, allowing yourself time to steel yourself for the onslaught of questions.

Much to your surprise, the conversation had shifted to other topics, namely Munch's permanent bachelor status and Olivia's terrible choices in men.

You leaned against Elliot's desk and he looked up to smile at you.

"I see they've moved on."

"I put them in their place," he said with a smirk.

"Do I wanna know what that means?"

"Probably not."

You laughed. "You're probably right."

Elliot's next thought was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. He answered it, listened for a few moments, then said "We'll be there in 15," before hanging up. "Liv, we've got a vic over at Bellevue."

She sighed and grabbed her coat. Elliot followed suit, but he paused to kiss you softly before following her out the door. "I'll see you later. Love you."

You smiled. "Love you too. Be safe."

"Always," he said with a wink.

You watched him walk out the door and you felt a pang in your chest. You'd always worried about him--about all of them--every time they went out on a call, but it felt different now. Knowing he loved you as much as you loved him made it so much harder to watch him leave knowing he might never come back.

Thankfully, he did come back, though he was not in a pleasant mood. He was snapping at every person who crossed his path and anyone who dared look at him sideways.

"It was the dad, Olivia," he was yelling when you came into the squad room. "I'm sure of it."

"Okay, Elliot, but we don't have any proof!" she yelled back.

"Hey," you cut in. "What's going on."

"Little girl is in the ICU because she'd been beaten pratically to death. The doctor said there was also evidence of prolonged sexual abuse," Elliot answered.

"That's terrible."

"Yeah, what's worse is the father did it," he said angrily.

"What proof do you have?" you asked.

"God, not you too."

"El, we can't just assume it's the father without some sort of evidence."

"My instincts and years of experience not enough for you?"

"It might be enough for me, but it's not enough for a court of law," you countered.

You could see the rage in his eyes and you knew exactly what he was thinking. You knew the statistics as well as anyone, so you knew it was likely that the child had been raped by a close family member. As a father himself, Elliot hated when a father was the cause of such trauma to a child. That hatred fulled his anger, which led to poor decision making.

"Why don't I talk to the father?" you suggested.

"I'm bringing him in tomorrow morning. I want first dibs," Elliot insisted.

"I think it's best if I talk to him first," you said gently, but firmly.

"Why?"

You sighed, not really wanting to answer him. "Because I'm not sure you can be objective, Elliot."

As you suspected, that only fueled his anger more. "Of course I can be objective! I'm objective! Why do you think--"

"You're angry," you said, cutting him off.

He paused. "Of course I'm angry!"

"I may not have children, but I understand where your anger is coming from, Elliot. The difference is you let your emotions guide you--you imagine yourself in that person's shoes and it fuels your rage." You sighed deeply. "For what it's worth, I trust your judgment. If you think he's guilty, I'm inclined to agree, but I want to talk to him first."

Your words seemed to calm him down. He hated seeing a child hurt, especially one that had been hurt repeatedly. He knew you were right--he was emotional and that tended to cloud his judgment. You, on the other hand, knew how to remain calm and rational, which tended to get you better results.

"You're right. You should interview him."

At that moment, Cragen stepped out of his office. "Emily Riley just passed away. The parents are on their way down to the station now."

"What happened?" Elliot asked.

"She threw a clot to her brain. It was likely caused by the beating she took."

"Why are the parents coming down here?" you asked.

"Mrs. Riley attacked Mr. Riley. She was screaming something about him doing this to Emily. Uniformed officers are bringing them down."

You turned to look at Elliot, who had a slightly surprised look on his face. "I think that means you were right, El."

"Maybe, just once, I'd like to be wrong."

When the Rileys arrived down at the station, Fin and Munch took Mrs. Riley to an interview room, while you took Mr. Riley to another room. Olivia joined you at your request, while Elliot and Cragen watched from the other side of the glass.

It didn't take you very long to get a full confession from Mr. Riley. He admitted to sexually assaulting his daughter for several years. It took a little longer for him to admit to beating her, but eventually he did. He told you and Olivia that he had to kill Emily because she threatened to tell her mother about what he'd done to her for years.

Once he admitted that, Elliot stormed into the room and yelled at him--screaming that he was a pervert and a monster. "You'll get the needle for this...and I'll be right there watching."

Elliot put handcuffs on him and took him to booking, with Olivia trailing behind. You met Cragen outside the interrogation room and he told you you'd done a good job.

"Honestly, I'd rather never have to do an interview like that again."

"But you're good at it, (Y/N)."

"Doesn't mean I like it."

"I don't think any of us really like it."

You offered him a sad smile before walking away, heading to your office to sit down and have a nice cry.

About 30 minutes later, Elliot found you in your office, eyes red from crying.

"Doll?" he asked. "You okay?"

You nodded. "I'm fine. I just...I hate doing those."

He came around the side of your desk and pulled you into him. "I know, baby. I don't like them either."

"That poor little girl. She never had a chance."

He squeezed you tighter. "At least he's going to prison for the rest of his life...thanks to you."

You looked up at him. "I can't take all the credit. Olivia was there too."

"You're the one who won him over. You got him to admit to everything he'd ever done to his daughter."

"At least this is done. I just wanna go home."

"Me too," he said as he stood up. "Get your coat and let's get out of here."

"I want a hot bath," you grumbled.

He chuckled lightly. "Hot bath, a glass of wine, and a good night's sleep next to your very handsome boyfriend, should do the trick."

You rolled your eyes as you threw on your jacket. "I'm taking you up on that."

"It's a guarantee," he said with a wink.

**********

It had been two months since Elliot had been shot. Two of the best months you'd had in a long time. Elliot felt the same. He loved spending time with you and just being around you made him feel so at peace. Just sitting next to you on the couch while you watched a movie made him happy. It was all the little moments that warmed his heart.

Tonight was special. It was the anniversary of the day Elliot realized he was in love with you. To you, it was an ordinary Tuesday, but to him, it was one of the most important days of his life.

He'd made dinner reservations for your favorite restaurant for that evening, but he wouldn't tell you anything else he was planning.

"Why tonight? What's the occasion?" you'd asked him that morning.

"Because I love you and I want to show you just how much," he'd answered.

You didn't believe there wasn't more to it, but you let the matter drop. By the time 5pm rolled around, you'd almost forgotten about your plans for that evening.

"Come on, babe, we gotta go," Elliot said as he popped his head into your office.

"Just let me finish this--"

"We've got reservations at 6:30, sweetheart."

You looked at your watch. "It's only 5:15."

"We have to get home and change first."

"Where are we going that I can't wear this?"

"It's a surprise! Now come on."

You laughed and gathered your belongings before following him out the door.

When you arrived home, you found that Elliot had already picked out exactly what both of you would be wearing that evening. He'd selected a beautiful dress for you and a well-tailored suit for himself.

Thirty minutes later, he was dragging you out the door, insisting he didn't want to be late.

When Elliot pulled up in front of the restaurant, your face lit up in surprise. "Elliot, you hate this place," you insisted.

He shrugged. "But it's your favorite."

"El..."

"Come on, beautiful." He hopped out of the car and quickly came around to your side to help you out. He dropped his keys in the valet's outstretched hand before guiding you to the door.

"You never do valet. You always say it's a waste of money," you whispered.

"Tonight is a special occasion," he countered. "Besides, you're worth it."

You blushed heavily as he held the door open for you and followed you inside. "Is that why you took me to one of the most expensive restaurants in Manhattan?" you murmured quietly.

"Mhmm," he hummed.

"Am I missing something here? What's the special occasion?"

Before he could respond, you were met by the maitre d'. "Good evening. Do you have a reservation?"

"Yes. Two for Stabler."

The man smiled at the two of you. "Right this way sir, ma'am."

You followed him to a nice secluded table in the far corner of the restaurant. It gave Elliot an excellent view of the entrance and it suited your preference for a quiet table.

A bottle of wine was immediately brought to your table and two cups poured. It was, of course, your favorite wine.

"Seriously, El...what's with all the fanciness?"

You chuckled. "Can't I treat my girl just because I want to?"

"You can, but I know you. You don't like fancy things."

"But you do."

"Sometimes," you conceited. "Especially when it comes to food."

He grinned. "You have very high expectations as it relates to food."

"You're not wrong."

A server seemed to appear out of nowhere to take your orders. You hadn't even begun to look at the menu, but you didn't need to. You knew exactly what you wanted. After the server left, you turned your attention back to Elliot.

"Are you going to tell me what's so special about today?"

He looked you in the eyes and for some reason, his expression made you feel emotional. "Two years ago today, I realized I was in love with you. This is the first time I've actually had the opportunity to celebrate that love."

Tears welled in your eyes and you gently fanned your face with your hand. "Come on, (Y/N), don't cry in public," you said lightly to yourself.

Elliot laughed warmly and reached across the table to take your hand. The man wasn't big into romantic gestures, but he'd made an effort for you and that meant everything to you.

"This is the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me."

"You need to meet better people then," he said with a smile.

"It wouldn't have the same meaning coming from someone else."

It was his turn to blush. "You deserve to know how much you mean to me. I want to make sure you never forget it."

"I love you, Elliot," you said softly.

"Not as much as I love you."

The evening was extremely beautiful. Delicious food, incredible company...who could ask for a better night?

When you made it back home, you immediately slipped off your shoes and dropped onto the bed. "Who invented heels and can I kill them?" you grumbled.

Elliot laughed as he tugged off his tie. "I'm 80% certain murder is illegal. Besides, they make your ass look incredible."

You laughed. "You're not wrong, but only 80%?" You sat up and watched him as he continued to remove his shirt. Your eyes followed his hands as he unbuttoned his shirt--mouth watering slightly at the teasing bit of his form you could see.

Ordinarily you'd be embarrassed by how blatantly you were staring, but it had been a long time since you'd felt the touch of a man and your body suddenly lit up.

Elliot was still chattering on about something until he looked in your direction and fell silent. The look on your face was hungry--possessive even--and it sent a shock wave of desire through his body.

"Baby?" he asked tentatively.

"Come here," you responded, voice low and husky.

Even if he'd been blind and deaf, he still would have been able to feel the desire oozing from every pore in your body. It wrapped around him, enveloping every part of him, pulling him towards you.

He stopped at the edge of the bed, eyes slowly tracing over your body, waiting for you to give him permission to touch you.

"Help me up," you purred.

He grabbed your hands and pulled you to your feet. "Turn around," he said softly.

You did as he asked, exposing the zipper of your dress to him. You felt his fingers slide slowly up your spine before grasping the zipper and pulling it down at an agonizingly slow pace to just above the curve of your butt.

His lips brushed against the exposed skin of your shoulder as he began to remove your dress. He could feel your heart racing, the blood pumping through your arteries as he kissed your neck.

You gasped softly as his teeth grazed your pulse point, sending shivers through your body. His hands pushed your dress the rest of the way down, letting it pool at your feet.

You felt his hands caress you, sliding around your midsection and pulling you back against him. The way he touched you only made you want him more--the slow pace he'd set driving you crazy.

As if he sensed your need for more, his left hand began to slowly glide up your torso towards your breasts. He slid his hand across one breast and then the other, giving each one a gentle squeeze as he did so.

Your body was flush against his and you could feel his arousal pressing into your back. The lack of skin-to-skin contact was making you desperate. You needed to feel him--all of him.

You turned your head to look up at his face, but you were surprised by his heavy-lidded expression. You'd never seen him look like that and it did something to you.

Your lips parted slightly as you gazed at him and he found it impossible to resist. He leaned down to press his lips against yours, earning a soft sigh from you. You turned around so your chest was pressed against his, and your arms wound around his neck.

His shirt was already unbuttoned, so all you had to do was push it back off his shoulders and let him tug it the rest of the way off. You then let your hands wander under the hem of his undershirt, palms flattening against his taunt abs.

He knew what you wanted, so he pulled back just long enough to pull his shirt off over his head. He leaned back in to kiss you, but you pulled back slightly, hand pressed against his chest to keep him in place.

He would have been hurt by the motion if he'd missed the look on your face. Instead, he felt his chest swell with pride as you eyed him like he was the god, Adonis.

"See something you like?" he teased.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his. "I see a whole lot I like."

He grinned and pulled you back in for another searing kiss. You swore that every time he touched you, it was like your body was on fire--each touch increasing the intensity of the burning. But it wasn't painful...it was an incredible feeling and you wanted more.

Elliot's hands made their way to your back, and he deftly unclasped your bra with practiced hands. You let the bra slide down your arms, exposing your breasts to his hungry eyes.

He cupped them, lifting them to his mouth as he lowered his head to taste your skin. You let out a moan of pleasure as he nipped and sucked, paying each breast and each nipple its dues.

Your fingers began to claw at his belt, desperately trying to free him from the confines of his pants. Elliot chuckled softly at both your desperation and your frustration at not being able to undo his belt.

He pulled back and nodded his head towards the bed. "Lie down, baby."

You did as he asked, eyes never leaving him. He quickly undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants. He was slow to remove them, clearly enjoying the tortured expression on your face.

Your breathing was labored, despite the fact that you weren't doing a damn thing. You could feel your arousal pooling in your panties and you knew you were seconds away from completely losing it.

"How 'bout I just remove these too while I'm at it?" Elliot asked as he tugged his boxer shorts down his legs. When he stood up straight, you got your first view of his erection and you felt your pussy clench as a little gasp escaped your mouth.

He was thick and long--larger than you were used to, but not so big that it scared you. Your mouth watered slightly, the mere thought of feeling his weight on your tongue a massive turn on.

You quickly pulled yourself off the bed, cutting off Elliot's question before he could even speak as you dropped to your knees in front of him.

His eyes widened slightly as he gazed down at you. You looked up at him with a doe-eyed expression that nearly buckled his knees. He watched as you tentatively placed your hands on his thighs, eyes flicking up to his, checking to make sure it was okay.

He reached out and ran his fingers through your hair, letting you know he was comfortable. You licked your lips as your hands moved up his thighs, nails gently scratching the skin.

Elliot's breathing was already heavy and he knew he was going to have a hard time controlling his orgasm. It had been a long time for him too, after all.

You gripped his cock in your dominant hand, leaning towards him to take him into your mouth. You took as much of him as you could without gagging, eyes never leaving his face.

"Fuck," he whispered as he looked down at you.

The single curse word sounded like praise to you, so you ran with it. You wasted no time--you set a quick, intense pace, and he was loving it.

His fingers were tangled in your hair and a string of moans, heavy pants, and curses slipped from his mouth. He watched you as much as he could, but his head would roll back involuntarily as he reacted to the pleasure.

"You're doing so well, baby--feels amazing."

You moaned softly around his cock in response. The vibrations mixed with the warm, wet heaven of your mouth nearly made him cum. You felt the way his body tensed and knew he was close, so you sped up your movements, paying special attention to his sensitive head.

Elliot had been determined not to cum yet, but he was struggling to hold himself back. It just felt so damn good. "Baby, I--I'm close."

You were well aware and you wanted to taste him so badly--so you did the only logical thing...you looked up at him as you sucked, eyes filled with desire.

Within seconds, Elliot filled your throat with his cum--orgasm slamming into him like a freight train. As he started to come down from his high, he realized his grip on your hair was way too tight and he let go of you instantly.

"Sorry, baby. Did I hurt you?" he asked breathlessly.

You smiled up at him and licked your lips, making sure to get the last of his cum into your mouth. "Not at all, El. I loved every minute of it."

He relaxed and let out a relieved sigh. "Well so did I...you were phenomenal, (Y/N/N)."

He helped you up and pulled you against him so he could kiss you--not giving a damn that he could taste himself on your tongue.

"Can you lie down for me, baby? I'd like to repay the favor."

"You don't have to," you assured him as you settled onto the bed.

He looked at you in confusion. "You say it like it's some sort of chore."

You shrugged. "Not all men reciprocate."

"What kind of heathens have you been dating?"

You laughed. "Well...none of them were you."

"See, there's your problem," he teased.

He climbed onto the bed with you, hovering over your body, eyes scanning your face as if he was memorizing it.

"Have I told you how beautiful you are?" he murmured.

"Once or twice," you said, cheeks blushing slightly.

"Hmm," he hummed. "I've gotta tell you more often. No one compares."

Now your cheeks flushed a deep crimson. "Elliot..."

He suddenly sat up. "You know what, babe? I've got a much better idea." He flopped down onto his back. "Sit on my face."

"Say what?"

He turned his head to look at you. "Sit on my face," he said again.

"I...umm. That sounds dangerous."

He cocked an eyebrow. "It's not dangerous, it's sexy as hell."

You sat up and turned to face him. "Are you sure? I mean...couldn't I smother you?"

He laughed. "Absolutely not." His expression sobered suddenly. "Are you telling me no guy has ever asked you to sit on their face?"

You shook your head, embarrassment creeping into your face.

He sat back up and reached for you. "We don't have to do anything you don't want, but I promise you it's worth it--for both of us."

"Are you sure?" you asked again.

"I'm absolutely positive, babe."

He looked and sounded so confident--and to be honest, you'd always wanted to try it--so you nodded your agreement.

You quickly pulled your panties off before climbing on top of him. You straddled his chest--a slightly worried expression on your face.

"I promise you, you're not gonna hurt me," he reassured you. "Besides, I'm strong enough to throw you off me if I had to."

His tone was light and teasing, which made you feel better. Plus, you knew it was true--he really could throw you around if he wanted to.

You took a deep breath and moved your body so your pussy was directly over his face. You lowered yourself slightly, but you didn't actually sit on him.

He sighed in annoyance. "Did I ask you to hover over my face, baby?"

"No," you mumbled.

"What did I ask?"

"You asked me to sit."

"Mhmm...so sit."

You lowered yourself a little more, but you didn't put your full weight on him. You didn't think he would notice, but you were completely wrong.

He wrapped his arms around your thighs and tugged you down so you were completely flush against him. He made the happiest noise you'd ever heard before diving into the delicious feast above him.

You nearly jumped off of him as he began to eat you out--the sensations so intense, it startled you. But holy fucking shit did it feel incredible.

The sounds coming from your mouth were loud enough to wake your neighbors. You grasped the headboard for support as you moaned and begged and chanted his name like a prayer.

All-the-while, Elliot was expertly attacking your pussy, sending wave after wave of unimaginable pleasure through your body. He groaned into you as he feasted, your cries of pleasure spurring him on.

He felt your nails rake against his scalp and your thighs began to shake. He tightened his grip on you as he continued his ministrations.

"Elliot--fuck," you gasped. "I'm so close."

"I know," he said into your pussy, knowing full well you couldn't hear him. He sped up his assault on your clit and seconds later your orgasm washed over you--screams of his name echoing in the small room.

He continued lapping up the mess you'd made, arms still wound tightly around your legs, keeping you against his mouth.

You started to squirm, but he didn't let go. "El--sensitive."

After a couple more licks, he finally released you and you practically fell off of him and onto the bed. Your legs shivered as aftershocks worked their way through your body.

Elliot was happily licking his lips as he watched you, expression smug. You looked almost delirious with pleasure and it brought him great pride.

"That...was...incredible," you said between breaths.

He grinned as he sat up. "I'm glad you enjoyed it as much as I did." He wiped the rest of your slick from his face with a satisfied smirk.

You looked over at him and laughed breathlessly. He just looked so pleased with himself that you couldn't help but find it funny.

"Kiss me," you pleaded softly.

He was never one to deny you, so he pulled himself up and climbed onto your body, hovering over you once again. He leaned down and gently pressed his lips against yours, earning a contented sigh from your lips.

You cupped the back of his neck and pulled him closer to you as you deepened the kiss. He shifted slightly to get more comfortable and you could feel his arousal press against your thigh. You smiled against his lips, appreciating that he was willing and able to keep going.

Elliot felt your lips curve into a smile and he pulled away so he could look at you. "Something funny, doll?"

You shook your head. "Nothing's funny. I'm just...pleased."

He chuckled and kissed your neck. "Pleased, eh?" He pressed another kiss against your skin. "About what?"

"You," you said breathlessly--his kisses quite clearly having the desired effect on you.

He smiled as he nipped at your collar bone. "I'll take the compliment."

You lifted your hips, brushing against his cock in search of friction. He hissed softly, the feeling too much and not enough at the same time.

Elliot grabbed your hips and pulled you towards him so he could settle more comfortably between your legs. He went back to kissing you, his hands gently skimming over your skin, his cock pressed against your entrance.

You ran your fingers through his short hair and whined softly.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"Need you."

"I'm right here." His teasing tone annoyed you slightly--he knew exactly what you wanted.

"Elliot," you whined.

He grinned. "Come on pretty girl, just tell me what you want and I'll give it to you."

"I want you."

He nipped at your jaw. "Come on...you can do better than that."

You whined again, squirming beneath him, in dire need of his touch. "I wanna feel you inside of me, Elliot--please," you begged.

He growled softly, hearing you beg for him like that made him almost feral.

To your surprise, he started to pull away from you. "El?"

"Need a damn condom."

"I'm on birth control," you said quickly.

"You sure, babe? We know this little swimmers are potent."

You laughed. "I'm sure. Come here."

He lowered himself back on top of you and lined his cock up with your entrance. His eyes locked onto yours, searching for any sign of discomfort. Seeing none, he started to push into you slowly.

The stretch was both delicious and painful at the same time. Your nails dug into his shoulders and you winced slightly when he was about halfway in.

"Shit, am I hurting you?" His worried tone matched his facial expression.

"I'm fine," you assured him. "You're just...big."

He grinned wolfishly, pride pumping through his veins. He kept pushing forward until he completely bottomed out inside you, a deep groan escaping from his lips.

He gave you a few moments to adjust before he began to move. His speed was slow and languid, and his eyes never left yours. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable and enjoying yourself as much as possible.

"More," you gasped out softly.

He sped up his movements, earning a series of moans from you. He shifted his body to get a better angle and you cried out in pleasure, nails scratching into his skin.

He knew better than to slow down or shift any farther. With each thrust, he brought you closer and closer to the edge--and the convulsing of your tight pussy mixed with the sounds coming from your mouth, pushed him towards the edge too.

"Please, please, please" you chanted.

"I've got you," he murmured.

Your nails dug even deeper into his skin, drawing blood as they raked down his back. You cried out in pleasure--a sound that closely resembled his name--as your orgasm hit you.

Elliot barely held on long enough to get in another thrust before he was filling you up with his seed, whispering your name like a prayer in your ear.

As the two of you came down from your highs, Elliot slowly pulled out of you. You shivered at the loss of contact and you could feel his cum leaking from your hole.

"I'll be right back, baby," he whispered as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You could hear him in the distance, but you were a little delirious from all the pleasure he'd just given you. When he came back, he scooped you up into his arms and carried you towards the bathroom.

You let out a little yelp when he lifted you--you were unaccustomed to being carried anywhere. "What--?"

"Hot bath?"

You smiled up at him. He didn't really strike you as an aftercare kind of man, but you could tell he really cared. He wanted to take care of you.

You nodded and he very gently lowered you down into the tub, which was still filling with hot water.

"Temperature okay?"

"It's perfect," you said with a sigh as you leaned back. "Join me."

"In a minute, babe."

He left the room and came back a few moments later with a lighter and a couple candles. He quickly lit them and turned off the light, so the room was bathed in a soft glow. It was surprisingly romantic.

You leaned forward so he could slide into the tub behind you. As soon as he was comfortable, he grabbed you and pulled you back against him. He kissed the top of your head and you sighed happily.

"I love you," he whispered into your hair. "So damn much."

"I love you too, Elliot."

The two of you stayed in the bath until the water began to cool. Elliot helped you dry off and slip on your nightgown before guiding you back to the bed.

He pulled on a pair of boxers and slid beneath the covers beside you. He reached out and put his arm around you, pulling you to him so your back was flush to his chest.

"Sleep well, my love," he whispered.

You were already drifting off to sleep as he uttered those sweet words. He didn't need a reply--he knew exactly how you felt by the way you curled into him, a soft sigh escaping your lips.

#elliot stabler x reader #elliot stabler #elliot stabler x reader smut #detective stabler #law and order svu #law and order svu smut #detective stabler smut #elliot stabler smut

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magics-neptunes-things · 6 months

Text

Recovery

Hi everyone :)

This was asking by someone like probably a year ago, sorry for the wait!

Prompt : have you had a good day? I hope so.someday we can get something from one batlle x reader.where their teammates think they are doing something out of character. But are they really just struggling not to take their medicine?

Maybe it's a little deeper than I thought at first, sorry? But it is a subject that I master rather well so I may have been a little carried away.

I'm still open for any of your ideas or want :)

TW : Oral fight, angst, depression, treatments, swearing.

______________________________________________________________

You’ve never been good at dealing with your emotions since you were a kid. Even if you never lacked anything and your parents always wanted the best for you, you always had a part in you that made you feel that everything you did was not enough. Having a little sister who was successful everywhere you had failed a few years ago probably didn’t help much, especially when you saw how proud your parents were of her. You have always been in the norm, in the average. You always did everything so that no one would notice you, your fear of being a disappointment taking over from the rest.

It worked for many years, until you changed class at school for random reason and ended up with Alessia Russo sitting next to you. For a reason that you never really understood, she got soft spot for you and wanted to become your friend. From the height of your eight years you were delighted and you gladly let yourself be dragged with her on the football fields. That’s when it really started. You found a sport that you liked and something that you really felt good about. Initially skeptical, your parents finally let you play and you climbed the ladder hand in hand with Alessia. The only difference was that you were in front of the goals trying to stop the balls rather than trying to put them in the net.

You and Alessia end up splitting up when she flies to the United States and you stay to play at Chelsea. You were selected to join the national team of England as soon as you were old enough and there too you made your place. At the end of your contract with Chelsea, you signed at Lyon, where you stayed until the summer of 2022. Year of England’s victory at the Euro, in which you participated by playing all the matches until the final. These memories will remain engraved in you forever, but it is also from there that your anxiety began to overtake you.

You didn’t say anything first of all, claiming that it came from your arrival in Barcelona, along with your colleague and friend Lucy Bronze. The latter had taken you under her wing for a long time, having perhaps realized that there was more to scratch under the surface of your smooth and angelic smile. Or maybe Alessia asked her to watch over you, because despite the physical distance between you two, she’s still your best friend.

Alessia introduced you to Ona, playing alongside her at Manchester United for a while. You quickly fell under the spell of the Spanish girl, her good humor, her charming smile and the way she had to sincerely care about others were something we are not used to. She quickly admitted that the feelings were reciprocal, but the geographical distance prevented you from fully living your relationship. When you learned that Ona’s transfer to Barcelona was finally accepted, you finally decided to try everything for everything. Instead of taking an apartment for her, you and Ona looked for an apartment together in which you settled when she arrived in Barcelona.

A few weeks later you were both called into your respective national selections. You knew what was happening in the Spanish squad, Ona having already refused to go there by signing a first petition against its leaders. Her change of heart was very badly perceived by the fans and the criticism she received affected you as much as it did to her. But you have always done your utmost to support her.

Being separated from Ona was not easy during those weeks. You managed to escape from time to time to find each other again, but having not mentioned your relationship outside your circles of friends, you didn't want to be caught by someone. Not to mention you were worried about the possible repercussions for Ona if her federation ever discovered the nature of your relationship.

The first panic attack you had was at the quarter-final against China. The goal you conceded that day was the first of the competition and the failure sensation that gave you was such that you had to lock yourself in the toilet at the end of the game. This is where Alessia found you and you don’t remember exactly how she brought you back to your hotel room, nor how she managed to make sure that Ona could join you there.

The following crises you managed to feel them happen, it was usually the night before the matches, but you also had some after the matches. Lauren, your regular tournament roommate, never realized every night you got up to go breathe fresh air on the balcony, sleeping too deep for that. And it was a relief to you, honestly. You didn’t want to worry anyone, let alone be pitied. Not being able to manage your nerves was a new shame in your eyes.

Except that you didn't win the tournament, losing the final because of a goal conceded. Your fault, finally. None of your teammates told you but you didn’t need to. You knew it. After your last game, you quickly jumped on the first plane back to Barcelona and away from Australia. You rejected your girlfriend’s offer not to go to the celebrations in Spain to stay with you, swearing that you were okay and that she deserved to enjoy what happened to her. If you sincerely thought the second part of the sentence, the first was probably the biggest lie of your life.

When you got to your apartment, you turned off your phone and lived in the dark for two days. Until Lucy shows up in your apartment and fails to break down the door, sent by a panicked Ona not to hear from you. After looking at the mace informs that you were under the sheets of your bed, Lucy pulled you out and took you to the emergency room. They found nothing physical, so you ended up in the psychiatric ward, despite your protests. They diagnosed you with depression and anxiety attacks but allowed you to go out only on the condition that you take your treatment daily.

You did for many weeks, before you realized that it was tiring you and making your abilities on the field less efficient than usual. Spoiler : It wasn’t, but your tortured mind didn’t seem to want to leave you alone.

So, you stopped taking them. To avoid Ona’s attention, you were throwing your daily dose of medication down the toilet. At first, it didn’t change your mood but you felt like you had regained the energy you had before. Except things started to turn the wrong way little by little. The slightest annoyance affected you a little too long and you started to have insomnia again. You briefly tried to take your treatment every two days, but it was worse than anything. So you simply stopped and you tried to silence the aggressive comments of your brain towards yourself. You had worried your girlfriend and friends enough about you.

****************

"Oh god Y/N how are you so clingy all the time?"

The phrase of one of the staff members, thrown in the tone of laughter, makes you raise your look from the screen of the computer on which Ona and you were watching a film. Train trips to another city were always a time when you chose to do something together. No team member seemed disturbed by this, you and Ona were almost tied by the hip at this point. The other couple, aka Ingrid and Mapi are doing the same anyway.

"I- I just…"

Surprised by the remark, you get up without thinking from Ona on which you had leaned your head. But your girl struck down the other woman with her eyes and took you back with authority against her.

"No need to be jealous like that" Lucy jokes from the seat in front of you, where she settled with Alexia.

"I love my clingy girlfriend just like that" Ona points and then put her attention back on the movie, making you to do the same.

You do it without adding anything, looking at the screen, the staff member leaving you to go back to her place. Or at least that’s what you want to make the other believe, your mind starting running. What if she was right and it was too much for Ona? You couldn’t stand a break up with her, she’s your pillar, your beacon in the dark. You try not to let anything appear, from your hands that become sweaty to your heart rate that has increased terribly.

Lost in your thoughts, you don't notice the worried look that Lucy exchanges with Ona between the two seats. Normally, you would have started Lucy’s joke.

Your mind slows down when you feel your girlfriend’s nose briefly caress your temple and then leave room for her lips. She kisses you delicately, making you raise your look on her. Her eyes are sweet, her smile is tender and you can’t help but give it back to her.

"Mi corazoncita"

She whispers and this time you feel your heart racing with love. You are wrong to doubt the sincerity or strength of Ona’s feelings. She has always been there for you, for the best certainly but also for the worst. Especially for the worst.

****************

Unfortunately, these kinds of moments have become more frequent as the days go by. You have started to doubt each of the jokes that are made to you, you get lost in your thoughts and you regularly wake up in the middle of the night, the heart beating way too hard. It sometimes wakes Ona up and you pretend a nightmare, making her cuddle you and help you fall asleep again. When it doesn’t wake her up, you don’t have the heart to do it. So you sneak out from under the sheets to go to your living room and turn on the television, anything that would keep you from thinking again.

All of this added to lack of sleep makes you feel increasingly irritable. You lack patience during training and you even disrespected one of your teammates. You quickly apologized and were forgiven, but it was spotted by others. With the passage of time you started to feel like you were being put in the spotlight, just waiting for the other to make mistakes and point the finger at you.

This was not lacking in the next game, during which you conceded a new goal. Again, you’ve been in a terrible mood all weekend, just refusing to talk to anyone. The worst was probably the guilt that was eating away at you from your behavior. But it quickly became an infernal circle from which you couldn't get out, despite all the goodwill and hands extended by your girlfriend or friends. The worst was yet to come.

****************

You are in Barcelona, receiving the team of Atletico de Madrid. You didn't concede a goal that day and it was with great relief when you heard the whistle of the referee. Alexia scored a goal in the second half, which was enough for the team to win the famous three points. After greeting a few opposing players and congratulating your teammates (giving you a longer time when you found yourself against Ona), you and Lucy went to see Ana Crnogorčević with whom you played last year and whom you always liked.

The discussion was pleasant and you felt relieved and relaxed, like every time you won without conceding goals. While you were talking about Ana’s arrival in Madrid, the image you saw over the shoulder of your interlocutor was like a punch in the stomach.

Ona in full discussion with one of her acquaintances, Carmen Menayo. Really, you could have endured it since your girlfriend is perfectly entitled to have friends outside of you. But seeing that the other player had her hands almost everywhere at once on the body of your girlfriend made you see red. If you had been focused on Ona’s face you would have seen how uncomfortable this behavior made her, but that was the cork of your insecurity bottle.

Unable to see anything else, you only come back to yourself when you realize that Lucy is dragging you somewhere else.

"Come on Kiddo"

Once again your mind is blurred until you find yourself at home, in your apartment, without Ona. Where is she? Certainly enjoying her friend, having a good time with someone in a good mood. Someone who would make her happy. Someone who wouldn’t be you.

The mixture of anxiety, anger and all that has accumulated in recent weeks is about to make you lose your footing and, in a desperate attempt, you begin to walk. You promised Lucy it was okay and you sent her home, even if you don’t remember it right now. You must have been convincing, because she knows full well what happened at the Euro and what you are suffering from.

A few minutes later, the front door finally opens to a hesitant Ona. Needless to say, those minutes seemed like hours.

"Where have you been?" you ask a little too aggressively when you turn to her.

"The girls told me you went home with Lucy, so I showered and come home."

Ona's voice was soft as she drops her bag next to the door. You answer nothing, content yourself with a sarcastic snort. Of course, they were on her side. Could you blame them? No, obviously not. They knew Ona and also knew she deserved better than you.

"Maybe if you had been less busy with your friend, you would have seen me leave."

The sentence was scathing, filled with bitter sarcasm. The quotation marks you used with your fingers when you said the word "friend" might have been funny if it wasn’t so dramatic.

"What are you talking about, Bebita?"

Ona approaches you and tries to place a hand on your arm, but you quickly release her contact.

"Don’t fucking touch me."

An alarm siren has been on for a few minutes in your head, but you ignore it prodigiously. The sensations you feel in your belly are such that you wonder by what miracle you haven't vomited yet.

"By the way, what are you doing here? You should have gone to your bitch’s house, probably had a better night than here with me. Isn’t it what she told you?"

Despite your accusatory tone, Ona has the merit of not getting upset. But you’d rather see her yell at you than see her eyes filled with tears.

"You talk nonsense. Listen, everybody’s worried about you, you haven’t been yourself for a while. Maybe... Maybe you should ask someone for help?"

Tears roll down her cheeks and it’s too much for you. Ona should not have to cry because of you, she is the sweetest, kindest and simply the most perfect girl on earth. The reaction you have, by contrast, is probably the stupidest possible. Trying to push her away from you is probably not the best thing. And yet.

"Not yours anyway. I don’t need you."

"Y/N..."

"No, Ona. The truth is, it’s not that I don’t need you, it’s that I don’t want you here."

You found yourself screaming without even realizing it and the silence that ensued was like death. You may never be able to erase Ona’s expression from your mind. After these few seconds suspended, Ona turns the heels and disappears through the front door of your apartment.

*************

You didn’t hear from Ona in the next days, but it would have been complicated anyway since you threw your phone against a wall shortly after she left, with some other things. Then, you spent your nerves on the cushions of the sofa in your living room before falling into tears when you saw the photos that Ona had taken the habit of hanging on a wire held with tweezers above your television.

Ona didn’t come back either, but that didn’t surprise you. You ruined everything, like every time. Someone knocked on your door several times but you didn't answer, staying motionless, lying on the floor of your kitchen or prostrated in your bathroom. You knew perfectly well that it wasn’t Ona, if it had been her she would have opened the door.

After the game against Atletico, you had two days off and you imagine that your lack of response didn't intrigue many people. Given the fight you had with your girlfriend, they must think you don’t want to see anyone. Girlfriend? Ex, maybe. You don’t know anymore.

On the day you resume training, you completely lost track of time. Daylight then street lights illuminate your ceiling and change the vision of things, but that’s about all you see. You didn’t eat, you didn’t drink, and you couldn’t tell how long you slept. The pain, the emotions have gradually given way to a general anesthesia thanks to which you no longer feel anything. Physically as well as emotionally.

The evening of the day of the resumption of training, you are awakened by the door of your apartment that opens while you were lying in the floor of your kitchen. The footsteps are too heavy for it to be Ona. You don’t even turn your head, too absorbed by the images projected on the ceiling.

"Bloody hell Y/N, what the fuck?!"

Alessia.

Your best friend appears in your field of vision and watches you with a mixture of fair and relief. What is she doing here?

"I came to see if you were still alive, you idiot. Everyone is freaking out and thinks you’re drowning in your bathtub."

You hadn't realized that your thoughts had been spoken aloud.

"It might be better."

Your voice is a whispers. Alessia looks at you from her height and ends up lying next to you, on the cold tiled floor of the apartment you shared with Ona. A few minutes passed and Alessia ended up speaking again.

"You’re in a terrible state. And I’m not talking about your physique."

You don’t answer. You know that.

"You need help, Y/N"

She takes your hand in her and you take a deep breath and close your eyes. You know that, too. But just because you need it doesn’t mean you want it.

"Where is Ona?"

"At Alexia’s."

You imagined that the Latin girl had gone to live with someone else, but during these three days you had imagined her at Menayo's. Knowing that she wasn’t relieves you, even if talking about her lights a flame in your throat that you can’t swallow.

"I've lost her"

It’s not a question you ask Alessia, it’s a statement you make out loud. The blonde sighs and turns her head in your direction. You imagine her thoughts very well, she deserves better than what you are. (Spoiler bis : This isn't what Alessia thinks for a second)

"I’m going to get you out of this apartment and you’re going to go into a place to really heal yourself. Then we’ll see what we can fix."

Except, you don’t want to. Regaining some energy, you shake your head and sit down abruptly and grab her arm.

"No. Don’t make me go to one of these centers, I beg you, Less, please. I’ll do whatever you want."

Your despair seems to touch your best friend, who hesitates, looking at you. She also sat down and bite her lips. You whisper one last plea and she sighs as she passes a hand through her hair.

"At least I’ll take you to the hospital. Maybe they’ll keep you for a few days, but as soon as you get out, I need you to swear to me that you’ll follow your treatment and go to a psychiatrist. It’s not a shame, if you knew how many players should do it too. No one will love you less because you get treatment."

*********

You stay four days in the hospital and Alessia stayed with you until the third day. From there she had to go back to London and you almost threw her out. You refuse that she has any professional difficulties because of you. Your visits are regulated and you had to choose four unique names. Alessia, Lucy, Alexia and Ona. The latter has still not come to see you and you hesitated for a long time before adding her to your list. In the meantime, Alessia had your phone repaired but you weren’t allowed to use it until the last day.

The club masked your absence at training by mentioning an ankle injury, thanks to Lucy’s responsiveness no one noticed your trouble in the last game. Plus, if you have to miss several weeks, it will not seem too surprising. It’s a relief for you, even if you agreed to get treatment, you don’t want the general public to know about it for the moment. Maybe later.

Since you can’t contact Ona by text or phone, you decided to write her a letter. Alexia promised to give it to her, but you are aware that this doesn't mean that she will read it. You often ask your captain about Ona. You know she sleeps at Alexia's sometimes, your's or her parent's. On the third day, you asked Alexia if she thought Ona would come to see you here. Hoping to see her figure walk through the door to find you with one of your three friends was sometimes difficult.

"She needs time" Alexia replied.

You noded, knowing it was perfectly selfish of you to want her here. In your letter, you apologized at length for your behavior and explained everything that happened to you in the last few days. And you told her how much you miss her, too. The discussions you had with the hospital psychiatrist also helped you a lot.

"Have you ever thought about quitting football?"

"What?! Of course not. Football was the reason I met the most important people in my life. It’s the only area where I’m not too bad."

She thought for a few seconds before continuing.

"Okay. But the way you throw yourself under the bus with every goal you take, it’s not healthy. We have to find a solution so that you stop living every goal as a failure."

That was the crux of the problem, unfortunately. But with your new treatment, which you were taking with attention this time, it seemed that you could be a little more optimistic.

***********

On day four, you were allowed out in the late afternoon. In the morning, you were able to get your phone back and with Lucy by your side you turned it on. The number of notifications was such that it crashed and you had to turn it back on. You received countless messages before and after your hospitalization. Ona’s were the hardest to read, of course. After you were hospitalized, she stopped writing to you and the first thing you did was look for her social media accounts. Since the game, she hasn’t posted anything.

You then replied to some of the messages you received, to Alessia or some of your teammates for example. Family and friends, too. With your psychiatrist, you decided to limit social media. So you have removed Twitter from your phone, limited comments on your Instagram posts and your TikTok account is only used to watch videos anyway. You never posted anything with it.

It was Alexia who came to pick you up at your exit and it was good to breathe a little fresh air. You climbed into her car, realizing soon after that she was not going to your apartment or hers.

"Where are we going?"

Curiosity outweighed anxiety, but you didn’t ask yourself where you were going. A look in her direction is enough to remove you from the head she was taking you straight to a rehabilitation center. This treatment was truly miraculous.

"You will see"

The answer was simple, but addressed with a smile that relaxed you quickly. It didn't stop your curiosity but when you left the city, you understood before even arriving at the destination. Alexia was taking you to Villassar de Mar, Ona’s hometown.

"Will I see her?" you asked after a few minutes

Alexia replied with a simple nod, startling when she saw you suddenly stand up on your seat.

"I can’t see her like that, look how dressed I am"

Alexia’s gaze slipped on your clothes, jeans and a sweatshirt that you just stole from Ona. You obviously took a shower before going out, but still. You are far from perfect.

"We don’t care Y/N, really"

"At least let me buy her flowers"

Alexia roll her eyes, but she smiled and stopped at the shop you mentioned to her. This is Ona’s favorite, in one of the villages close to her parent's. On your first date she stopped by and gave you a bouquet of mixed flowers. She told you that she didn’t know which flowers you preferred but that she found those very beautiful.

Needless to say, you opted for the same bouquet.

Arriving in Villassar de Mar, Alexia doesn't take you to your in-laws as you had imagined. She drops you off near one of the beaches full of memories for Ona and you. The windy weather took everyone away from the beach, except for a silhouette that you would recognize between a thousand. Sitting against one of the rocks that delimits the small cove, Ona looks towards the horizon.

When you see her, you feel a form of stress taking hold of you, but different from the anxiety that persisted in recent weeks. You bite your lips before feeling Alexia's arm around your shoulder, taking you for an hug.

"You’ve come a long way Y/N. We’re all very proud of you."

You don’t need to look her in the eye to check the sincerity of her words and you offer her a shy smile. With that, she gently pushes you towards the beach and you slowly break the distance between Ona and you, playing nervously with the stems of the flowers that you hold in your hands.

The wind blows a little, blowing Ona’s hair. Arriving at one meter behind her, you are not sure that she heard you. You let a few moments pass during which you take the opportunity to look at her. She looks tired, not to say exhausted. A new wave of guilt takes hold of you and you take one last step before reporting your presence.

"Hi"

She gently turns her gaze towards you and the strength of your feelings for her hits you hard.

"Hi"

She answers you gently and after a few seconds a slight smile appears on her lips. His eyes run through your face and you clear your throat before raising the flowers in her direction, a little embarrassed.

"It’s for you. They’re beautiful, but not as beautiful as you?"

Ona laughs softly, but you see her hands shake when she grabs the bouquet to carry it to her nose and breathe the smell.

"Is that a question?" she asks over the flowers.

"No but pickup lines were never my thing. You do look beautiful though" you just answer without taking your eyes off her. "I missed you."

"I miss you too, but…"

You step forward to interrupt her, not wanting to hear what she is hiding behind this "but".

"No, Ona, please listen to me." You wait until she nods before continuing. "I’m really, really sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, scream at you, or make you cry. I will do anything if you give me another chance. I know it sounds like a creepy guy with dozens of red flags, but I swear I’ll do better than I’ve done so far."

The Latin looks at you while you speak before sighing gently and letting her gaze float in the wave. She seems to look for her words and you let her do it, looking at her face with intensity. You realize that this may be the last time you see her, you want to immerse yourself in her as much as possible.

"If continue together Y/N, I want you to promise to really heal yourself. I couldn’t stand a second time watching you self-destruct like you did."

"I swear. I’ll do it for you. For us."

You mean it sincerely and the strength of your answer seems to surprise Ona. It must be said that you have seemed unsure of anything lately. She looks at you for a long time and you let her do it, a little embarrassed. Your eyes find their path to your shoes.

"Why are you always so shy?"

Ona’s amused tone surprises you and in a second your gaze is back on her.

"What do you mean?"

"You never knew how to handle compliments, you always blush when I look at you, you roll your eyes at me when I tell you that I find you beautiful…"

You retain a grimace of extreme accuracy, but you are convinced that Ona has realized it. You answer her however, shrugging you shoulders. If there is a time when you have to be honest with each other, it's now.

"I never understood what you found in me from the beginning. I thought you weren’t as interested in me as I was in you and that the long-distance relationship suited you. To be honest with you, I was looking to have the most of you until you realized there are other girls that are much more interesting than me."

Ona frowns and gets ready to speak, but you raise your hand to ask her to let you continue. Now that you’ve started, you need to clear your head.

"I was always convinced that you would find someone better than me at some point, someone joyful who would make you happier. Last week when you started crying because me, I just wanted you to leave so you wouldn’t be sad. Nothing else in the world matters more than you and your happiness to me. I’m sorry I showed you so badly, I’m sorry I wasn’t up to it, for making you cry and for making you go through hell. I’ve only been sure of one thing in all this fog since this summer, it’s the strength of my feelings for you. I really want to build something serious together. You’re the love of my life, Ona."

It was random, probably said in a completely disorderly way, but it was totally sincere. You find yourself a little breathless after your tirade and you look carefully at Ona. She also seems to be breathless and a few seconds pass, only disturbed by the sound of the waves behind you. You realize that when she speaks again, she has tears in her eyes.

"You're enough Y/N. I promise you're enough"

She whispers but approaches you to take your face in her two hands. It is a tender gesture and you feel a pleasant warmth at the precise place where her skin is in contact with yours.

"And I love you too. We’ll get through this together. I promise."

You smile softly and nod at her answer. After these long monologues, you find yourself a little short of words.

"No more lies or secrets?" said Ona.

"No more lies or secrets."

A new smile exchanged before your lips finally meet, sealing your promises of eternity. Because she loves you as much as you do. And it will be forever you and her.

#ona batlle #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine

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boldlyvoid · 9 months

Text

I Know Places: Mayhem

18+ Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader | Masterlist | AO3 link

Summary: After Aaron is hurt during a terrorism case in New York City, reader is faced with the undeniable truth that she is falling in love with her boss. While ensuring that he doesn't lose his hearing, she nurses him back to health despite her coworkers' knowing looks and comments. Navigating through her crush, knowing he's still in love with his ex-wife is going to be rough.

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence (mentions of rape and murder), hurt/comfort, Drug use tw as well as drug addiction mentions, unrequited love (so she thinks), There's only one bed

Word count: 15,088

From the moment Aaron was served divorce papers in the office, something about him changed. He was angry, which was to be expected. He was unpredictable as if he was ever predictable before… He was hot-headed, willing to jump down someone's throat at the drop of a hat, but he was also quiet. Withdrawn. He looked lonely.

She watched on from the sidelines, she brought him coffee on days where it seemed worse and sometimes even a baked good just to get him to smile. She offered to partner with him at the precincts, share hotel rooms, and drive with him just for the chance to get him to talk.

Keeping it inside wasn’t helping.

And at first, he didn’t say anything. Little by little, as he realized she wasn’t going to share his feelings with everyone on the team, he began to tell her things.

She stayed back to help him with paperwork, he picked her up in the mornings so they could get coffee and treats together, and he even called her on days off just because he wanted to. They’d stay up for hours, in their own beds, sharing little stories about growing up and failed relationships and sometimes they would say absolutely nothing… it was nice just to know the other was there. Her favourite moments, however, were when he’d put on the same show she had on in the background just so they could talk about it.

She went from wishing he had someone to talk to, to being his friend and keeping all his secrets. It was nice…

And then they went to New York.

Kate Joyner, the lead agent on this case, was a spitting image of his ex-wife, Haley. It was almost scary how much they looked alike, and of course, Aaron has known her for years. He met her at Scotland Yard and they “Liaised” whatever the fuck that meant. Everyone was skeptical of her at first, even the beat cops on the task force… for them, it was the way she acted more important than she was, her posh accent and the overall misogyny of hating successful women.

For Y/N, it was the way Aaron looked at her. The way he doted on her and agreed with her every move. The way he’s sticking to her side like a lost puppy and how he doesn’t see anything wrong with his new behaviour.

It was at this moment that she realized her boss wasn’t just her friend. Not even her best friend. She had a crush on him and the mere idea of him liking someone else was sending her into a tizzy.

She found herself agreeing with Derek Morgan more than ever before on this case, not because she knew he was right (he was) but because it meant she could go against Agent Joyner. She was argumentative for a very petty reason, but at the end of the day, Derek was right. Kate was on her high horse, she wanted to stay in the good graces of the FBI and keep her job. And that cost her another life.

This case is unlike anything she’s seen yet. Unlike the others, she hasn’t been on the team long enough to have seen one of everything. Morgan, however, has been. From being a Chicago cop, on the bomb squad and 3rd in command at the BAU, he’s seen almost everything.

When they touched down in NYC, there had been 5 victims already, the local FBI was on the scene as it was protocol, but the BAU was a last-ditch effort to crack this case. Each victim had been shot, point blank in the head and the unsub was able to flee each time without being seen. Those who did get a glimpse only saw a black hoodie. Nothing more. There was nothing to tie the victims together, each killed in a different neighbourhood, no common victimology, no sexual component, no robbery and no geographical connection. It was as if they were random. Like the unsub didn’t care who he killed, he just wanted the thrill of killing.

He’s killing roughly every two days which doesn’t give the investigation team much time to come up with theories or ways to catch him in the act, between kills. The press is having a field day, the civilians of New York are terrified and the police are stumped. It hasn’t been this bad since the Son of Sam in ’76.

When they arrived, Agent Reid was quick to get a geographical profile up and running to asses the unsub's comfort zone. Hells Kitchen, Murray Hill, Lower East Side, Chinatown and East Harlem were all marked on the board. Using anti-geographical profiling, they note that the unsub is organized, he strikes at the same time of day he knows where the cameras are placed and that all means he’s doing his own surveillance. These spots aren’t random. They mean something to him. And because of how calculated he is, they know he’s a need-based killer. He’s killing outside of his comfort zone… meaning every other neighbourhood in the city has a reason to be terrified.

The 6th victim is killed while holding a pretzel, hailing a cab. By the time the public registers that there has been a gunshot and taken cover for themselves, the unsub has faded into the crowd once again. Not before leaving a tarot card, this time.

Death.

It’s the same card the D.C sniper left at the scene of one of his scenes. Either this unsub has no idea its spiritual meaning of rebirth and transformation… or he has a deep understanding of Behavioural Profiling and he’s toying with them. They’re going with the latter theory.

They also brought along their technical analyst this time. Penelope Garcia. She’s been looking over all of the surveillance footage from each crime scene, including the most recent. With her physically there with them, she’s able to run her own software and programming through the old-ass NYPD tech and she’s figured out something huge. There isn’t just 1 unsub. There are two.

They’re not killing together, which is weird. From previous killing teams, they know it’s highly unusual for them to do things apart from one another, which leads them to suspect they might be dealing with a gang. There could be more than 2 unsubs and until they know more, Derek wants them out on the streets so they can be even more hyper-vigilant.

Kate, however, didn’t like that suggestion.

“These guys hit at midday,” he reminded her and ranted until Hotch cut him off. “We could target ingress and egress to particular neighbourhoods, position us near express stops. 14th, 42nd, 59th—

“Morgan, Morgan stop. It’s not your call.”

Instead of taking Morgan's great advice. They went back to their hotels for the night.

Aaron had noticed that Y/N was being strange. He could sense her distaste for Kate and thus, he distanced himself from her for the case. He had his own hotel room, so did their other leader, David Rossi, and almost everyone else shared. Reid went with Morgan and she was supposed to room with JJ, only JJ’s boyfriend showed up… she’s pregnant and he couldn’t stand the thought of not being with her during a case like this.

It just drove home to her even more just how alone she was.

In the morning, Aaron stayed with Kate at the precinct and Y/N huffed about it. Instead, she stuck herself to Spencer’s side as they gave their profile that morning, to the news, the police and the rest of the FBI agents at 26 Federal Plaza.

Just as they finish their talks, the unsub hits their 7th target. At 59th and Lex. Right where Morgan predicted they’d hit next. Thus causing the two men to shout at each other in front of everyone in the building.

“I said to put us at express stops, 14th, 42nd, 59th,” his voice gets louder with each number. “And that’s exactly where they hit!”

“It’s not your place to have this discussion!” Hotch shouts back.

“My place?”

“You need to back off,” Hotch warns.

“We’ve got seven bodies, man!”

“Which is exactly why we need to stay focused.”

“Focused?” Derek all but laughs in his face. He drops his voice, steps in closer to Aaron and looks past him to Kate before continuing. “‘Cause from where I’m standing, all you seem to be focused on is her.”

“Take a walk. Now,” Aaron matches his tone and then turns away from him.

The whole office is quiet. Not a single sound is heard. It was true. Aaron’s been uncharacteristically following this woman’s lead since the moment they got there… even before when he talked her up on the jet over.

Y/N catches his eye, silently relaying that she agrees with Derek… he’s not wrong. Even Hotch knows it.

This 7th kill brings forth the knowledge that there is a 3rd shooter. You see, one of the programs Penelope has takes the height of the unsubs on the camera, across the 7 videos there are 3 different heights. They’re definitely working with a team but not a gang. They haven’t reached out to the police, the media or given any clue as to what their mission is yet, either.

—

The next morning, Y/N is sent out onto the streets, partnered up with one of NYPD’s finest. Detective Cooper. He’s respectful, loyal and kind. They get along like a house on fire. He’s one hell of a flirt, but he doesn’t mean anything he says because he’s happily married. He’s funny, too, making her laugh as they walk through the streets, patrolling 14th Street, downtown and Brooklyn, baby.

There’s a gunshot which makes their heads turn in the direction from which they heard it. It takes seconds for them to start moving towards it, and even quicker for Y/N to press the button inside her jacket sleeve to talk with Penelope in the surveillance booth. “Garcia?”

“I’m on it, I’m on it,” she rushes through the speaker in Y/N’s ear. Searching hundreds of cameras for the unsub. “16th and Broadway! He’s running east on 16th!”

“He’s headed our way,” she says, tapping Cooper's arm and taking off with him down the block.

The unsub sees them and starts running the other way, they both draw their weapons and sprint even faster after him. Cooper is quick on his feet, he must’ve been a runner in his high school days as he’s leaps and bounds in front of her.

The unsub darts down an ally, runs halfway and waits for Cooper to turn the corner and bang. He shoots Cooper in the chest. Having seen it happen, Y/N rounds the corner with her finger on the trigger and pulls it, twice, as soon as her sights are on the unsub. He goes down before he can even get a second shot out.

She takes his weapon from him, makes sure he’s going to stay down and rushes back to Cooper. “Cooper!! Garcia, we’ve got an officer down on 16th west of union square!” She shouts into her mic.

“let me see,” she instructs Cooper to lay back and let her look at the wound. It’s on his left shoulder, bleeding like a son of a bitch. “Okay. You’re okay it’s going to be okay.”

“Garcia, can you see us?” She shouts into the mic again. “We have an officer down!”

She presses down on his wound, “Cooper stays with me, It’s going to be okay.” She assures him. Keeping her eyes on his until they hear sirens approaching. “See, it’s all good, you’re going to be fine.”

The ambulance arrives first, one paramedic attends Cooper, and the other attends the unsub. Not long after, Morgan, Rossi, Reid and JJ are arriving on the scene together. Cooper lost a lot of blood but they think he’ll make it. He’s loaded up and taken to the hospital as a second ambulance arrives purely for the unsub. He’s not going to make it. All the answers to the questions they had, died with him.

“I should’ve had to shoot him,” she says to herself mostly. Trying to rationalize what just happened.

“he shot a cop, Y/N you did what you had to do,” Derek reminds her.

“I know… I just mean, he was ahead of us. He could’ve gotten away but he stopped. He waited for Cooper to round that corner. He shot him on purpose.”

“Tell me about his behaviour, was he panicked? Was he winded?”

“His hands were steady,” she recounts. “His eyes were dead calm. I mean, these guys have been hyper-vigilant. Organized! They do pre-surveillance. I mean, what are the odds they would shoot someone only two blocks from where me and Cooper are standing?”

“You mean he deliberately caught someone where he could be caught?” JJ asks.

“What if he did? What if he chose this spot because we were here?”

“What are you thinking?” Derek asks, wanting to know where she could possibly take this.

“He had no ID on him. He waited until we caught up to him, he was strangely calm, I-I-I, it, it was like suicide by cop!” She sums it all up with a stutter.

“Why? Why would he do that?” Derek asks.

“I don’t know? Maybe to make us think everything was finished?” She hypothesizes. “What if they don’t know we know there are 3 of them and this was their way of getting us to think we did it. We got the bad guy. We can go home now. What if they want us to back down so they can do something worse?”

“We need to go back through the profile and figure out what we missed,” Derek announces, agreeing with her that something is off.

Hotch and Kate show up mere seconds later, dipping under the crime scene tape and rushing over to their little group. Rossi and Reid, who were standing over the body of the unsub, make their way over too. It's a team huddle.

“We think we might have a serious problem,” Rossi announces.

“What is it?” Hotch asks.

“We have multiple unsubs, they’re disciplined, they’re using counter-surveillance. They know the FBI movements, there’s a hierarchy. What does that usually equal?” He poses it back to Hotch.

“Terrorism,” he answers.

They get off the streets then, regrouping back at Federal Plaza to go over the newest findings and re-profile the unsubs. Reid explains that these murders simulate a bombing. They station someone to watch the scene and gauge police response time, at which point they know when to bring in a second bomb. Their ideal situation is to take out a first round of civilians and a second round of first responders. they’ve seen this before, just never like this.

Something bigger is coming. How soon? They don’t know.

“I think they’re targeting points of entry,” reid points out, referring to his map. “Each murder has taken place at a bridge or tunnel.”

Y/N steps up closer to the board. “Holland tunnel, midtown tunnel, Manhattan bridge.”

“If a bomb went off, the emergency response would shut down any ability in or out of the city,” JJ reminds them. “It’s like people would be trapped on the island.”

“Keep in mind it’s still a theory, like any profile,” Aaron says, calming their nerves before they all panic.

Just then, Garcia calls Morgan's phone. “We’ve got a problem. I went ahead and checked all 4,468 cameras and they’ve hacked into the surveillance system. They’ve got footage of every crime scene. They’ve been watching since the beginning.”

“How could we not have caught this?” Hotch asks.

“They were smart. They hacked in one camera at a time, it wasn’t system-wide, I had to check each camera one at a time.”

“And this is from every crime scene?” Y/N asks, making sure she has it right in her mind.

“I’m afraid so… they hacked into 1 camera at every scene. The one with the best angle, we only caught it because Lisa here, my number 2, was checking the days after each murder and noticed the shots were different. The angles changed so minutely that you wouldn’t notice a difference unless you were zoned in on that camera 24/7.”

“Thanks, Garcia,” Derek says. “Call us if you find anything else.”

“So much for theory,” Dave retorts.

“We need to hit the ground running,” Kate stands, visibly anxious about what this means to her job.

She’s so close to being fired and replaced, she’s been warned they want to replace her with Derek Morgan. It’s why the two of them have been butting heads. She wants to get ahead of his before all of New York City is up in flames and her head is on the chopping block.

“Reid,” Hotch calls his attention as they enter the room. “Take Y/N go brief Port Authority police.”

“Yes sir,” they both agree at the same time.

“JJ I want you on the phone running point with the Governor, Dave will you go talk to the commissioner? And Morgan, I want you to brief Homeland Security. Kate and I will meet with the Mayor.”

Everyone starts to get up and get going, “We’ll meet back here as soon as possible. Stay alert, stay vigilant. With them knowing were here, we could become a target.”

She lets Reid drive, throwing him the keys as they walk to the elevators. They’re the first to leave. They make it 6 blocks from the plaza when they hear the news over the radio. 10-80. That’s cop talk for an explosion. They slow down, reid pulls them to the side of the road and they listen closely. “Please note that 10-80 was a car bomb.”

Reid flips on the sirens, all the traffic on the road comes to a halt and he u-turns out of there faster than she’s ever seen him move a vehicle. With their lights and sirens going, they run every red light, they make it back to Federal Plaza and rush up to see the rest of the team. The whole time, she’s on the phone, trying to get at least 1 member of the team but there’s no service. “New York of all places should have service!” She shouts, slamming her flip phone shut again.

“we’re here,” Reid announces, throwing the car in park.

They rush back upstairs, it’s just Rossi that’s left in the building. “A car bomb?” Y/N says as she makes it to Rossi’s side. “Did they say where?”

He shakes his head. “No, and the cell towers are down. This is what we’ve been waiting for. We’re looking at 8 suicide bombers that are about to hit each and every location of the murders. Reid, I need you to make a list and get it to homeland security and quick. Tell them to pour troops into all those sites. This isn’t a false alarm. This is terrorism.”

“Actually, if we’re correct, it’ll be 16 suicide bombers,” he reminds Rossi. “One for the civilians. One for the first responders.”

“Fuck,” Rossi mumbles under his breath. Referring to the TV for a moment as the first news reporters have arrived on the scene.

The woman on screen holds her hand to her ear, listening to what information she has. “I’m hearing that the explosion was a car bomb. The car in question was a black SUV just outside 26 Federal Plaza.”

They all know what that means. Hotch was right.

Rossi presses the quick dial button for the CCTV command post, getting in touch with Penelope as she returns to the computers. “Can you see anything?”

“I literally just sat down sir, give me one moment,” she says as they hear furious typing. “Where am I looking?”

“they said the explosion was a Black SUV just outside Federal Plaza—

“Oh no, you don’t think—

“I need you to look, Penelope,” he pushes her back to the main focus. “Can you see anything yet?”

“Hold on I have 300 camera angles and— have you heard from anyone?”

“I’m here with Reid and Y/L/N, but we haven’t heard from anyone else.”

“Oh no, oh no no no,” she chants to herself as she keeps looking. “Sir, I’ll call you when I know more I cannot multi task like this.”

“Thank you, Garcia.”

Until then they just have to sit and wait… just not in this building.

A Critical incident command centre is set up at 700 Hudson, they’re rushed out of 26 fed, down the back stairwell and out the door. A shuttle bus comes to pick them all up in waves, and a bomb sniffer dog is there too, checking the shuttle busses before they leave, they even check Reid and Y/N’s SUV before they head out themselves. They stare out the windows, trying to get any look they can at the scene but they don’t pass it. They’re completely in the dark as to what is going on.

When they make it to the command centre, JJ is pulling up right behind them.

“oh my god, JJ,” Y/N wraps her up in a hug. “Have you heard from the others?”

“My phone isn’t working,” she complains. “Come on, let's head inside. I’m sure there’s a news helicopter out by now and live footage from the scene.”

Upstairs, the phone is ringing like crazy, Dave rushes to it and hits the speaker. “Hello?”

“Rossi, open the computer I have live footage from the blast!”

At the same moment, Y/N turns on the TV then to see helicopter live footage of the scene. It shows Aaron and Kates SUV in flames, Kate on the ground and Aaron covered in blood hovering over him.

She almost loses her mind thinking he’s hurt. She starts to leave, grabbing her things and searching for the keys in Reid's bag but it’s not there. “What are you doing?” He stops her.

“Aar—Hotch, he—he needs us? Shouldn’t we go to him?”

“We profiled that the first attack was to garner a response from the police, if the police and ambulance show up there will be a second bomb taking out all the first responders, we can’t go,” he reminds her.

“But he’s hurt and bleeding? Shouldn’t someone go to him? Let me go to him!”

“Y/N… we can’t,” Spencer looks her dead in the eyes, all the compassion in his soul seeping out through his own, he knows why she wants to run to him. But he can’t let her.

“Hey, hey look,” JJ calls their attention back to the TV to show Derek running up to him. “Look, Dereks there, he’s going to help him until we know it’s safe to bring in the emergency services.”

She quickly makes her way back to the TV, watching with a hand over her mouth, she’s beyond worried. Anxious doesn’t even begin to cover the sinking feeling in her chest. Kate’s dying. He has to watch a second woman who looks like his wife leave him in just a few short months. This is going to kill him if another bomb doesn’t.

Penelope has eyes on the crime scene, she calls both JJ and Derek, allowing the team to have some form of communication altogether. She goes back on the security footage, and she notices the bomber place the bomb and sit around and watch it go off… and then he returns to the scene.

He was the same kid currently “helping” Hotch.

He even called 911 for him… the next thing they see on the TV is Derek take off after the unsub and a single ambulance pulls onto the scene.

“Can I go now?” Y/N asks the rest of them.

“Yeah, you can” Rossi agrees. “Penelope you find out what hospital they’re going to through the dispatch system and Y/L/N’ll meet them there.”

“Got it, sir… but I’m not seeing anyone dispatched to Hotch’s location?” She explains. “There’s a strict order not to go… they must’ve gone of their own volition.”

“Okay… can you follow the ambulance on the cameras?” JJ suggests, “Find out what way they’re going and cross that with the nearest hospital.”

“I can do that,” she says, furiously typing away. “Yeah, I can do that…. Okay, they’re headed uptown…”

She wants to run. She feels like she could chase down the ambulance and meet Aaron there in a matter of seconds, that’s how much adrenaline is rushing through her veins.

“Saint Barclays!” Penelope shouts once she has it. “Go, go now!”

“Spence, keys!” Y/N shouts to him and he throws the keys her way. She catches them and then she’s off. She doesn’t even take the elevator, she runs down 6 flights of stairs, pushes open the fire exit doors and books it for their SUV.

Once inside she has the car on, her seatbelt fastened and her lights and sirens on. She speeds down the street, whipping the SUV around corners, she haphazardly comes to a halt in the emergency parking lot and throws the car in park. She leaves her door open and runs inside the emergency room.

She stops the first nurse she sees, “Hi, hi, I’m looking for agent Hotchner? He just came in he— oh my god,” she notices him. “Is he okay?”

“So far we’ve diagnosed him with acute acoustic trauma in his right ear and the doctor is working on pulling shrapnel from his left leg. But he’s going to be okay. He passed out shortly after arriving, my guess is that the adrenaline didn’t allow him to realize how hurt he was and so the blood loss and the equilibrium challenges from his ear injury all caught up to him all at once.”

“Okay,” she calms down a bit. “And the agent he brought in?”

“She’s in surgery,” the nurse explains. A solum look on her face. This won’t end well.

“Can I sit in there with him?” She asks, pointing to Aaron’s little corner of the ER.

She shakes her head, “Not until the doctor is done. When he wakes up he might be a little scared and confused, I wouldn’t want you getting hurt as well.”

“Okay…” she understands, so she waits there, resting against the nurses station and watching over him from afar.

Morgan comes rushing in not long after. She’s too busy listening to him talk to the nurses to notice that Aaron is up, he’s confused and yelling from his ear injury. He rips off his vital cords, and there’s an elongated beep ringing through the ER as the nurses try to get him to sit down.

“Agent Hotchner—

“Aaron,” she cuts the doctor off and rushes in front of him. Places her hands on his chest and looks up into his eyes, “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. Calm down… you’re at the hospital. Kate is in surgery, Derek is here too.”

“I need my clothes,” he says in a softer tone. “Where are my clothes?”

“We’ll get you your go bag, just calm down a second,” she ushers him back to his bed and makes him sit down.

“Has anything happened since the bomb went off?” He asks, looking past her to Derek.

He shakes his head. “No.”

“And Sam?” He asks.

“He’s dead.”

That must be the kid who detonated the bomb and stayed back to pretend to help… he just wanted to see the results of his destruction.

“The team needs to be here, we need to discuss this together… I don’t understand why they’d just set off one bomb and in a place none of the other attacks happened?” He says, trying his best to rationalize it but he can’t figure it out.

“I’ll call the others… Y/N?”

“I’ve got him,” she smiles over to Derek. “Go.”

She turns back to Aaron with a small smile, she looks to his ear which is packed with cotton and the dried blood that dripped down his neck. “Excuse me?” She grabs the attention of one of the nurses. “Can I have some antibacterial wipes, I just want to clean the blood off him?”

“Sure,” the nurse says before disappearing for a moment. “Here,” she hands her a few things to get him all cleaned up.

“Thank you,” she smiles.

“Thanks,” Aaron adds. Feeling sorry for reacting the way he did moments ago. “You don’t have—

“Well, I’m going to,” she cuts him off. She peels open one of the little packets and unfolds the wet wipe inside of it. “I’m sorry if this stings at all.”

She wipes the blood off his ear and neck, she tilts his head back a bit and she starts on the marks on his forehead and cheeks, her heart aches for him. He reaches out and holds her around her hips, letting his shoulders drop as he relaxes a bit… and then he rests his head against her chest and hugs her.

She rubs his back, “You’re okay…” She rests her cheek on the top of his head for a moment. Resisting the urge to kiss his head, instead, she waits for him to pull back and then she smiles at him. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I don’t know who I’d talk to anymore if I lose you.”

“You’d need something a lot stronger than a bomb to get rid of me,” he teases, finding his humour again.

She manages to laugh. “Okay, big guy, I’m glad to see your humour is still intact… how’s your leg?”

He looks down at it, his hospital gown rests at his thigh, and he can see the bandages on his calf. “Okay, I didn’t realize I hurt it?”

“Shrapnel,” she explains. “They got it all.”

“That’s good.”

Derek comes back around the corner then. “The teams on the… way? You two wanna tell me something?” He teases.

“Oh hush,” Y/N waves him off. “I’d worry if it was you or Reid or JJ too.”

“Not Rossi?”

“He barely ever steps into the way of danger,” she reminds them. “He’s too old for this shit.”

She takes a step back from Aaron, his hands fall back to rest on his own legs, and he sighs. “Any news?”

Derek shakes his head. “None. Homeland security is about to call everyone off, they think this was all a false alarm.”

“They’d be stupid to do that,” Aaron remarks.

“I know… it doesn’t make any sense?”

“Who did that Sam kid keep calling? Garcia said that there weren’t any ambulances dispatched to his area, how’d they know to get there?” Y/N asks.

“I don’t know… let me call Garcia,” Derek suggested, stepping out of the room again.

“The hospital's on a bypass,” Aaron looks up at her with horrified eyes. “The secret service is here, they didn’t want to let us in but… oh, god, I drove the bomb right in here.”

“We don’t know that,” she tries to push his worries away.

“We do. We do know that. They knew we’d catch on to them, they knew we’d stop all first responders from actually responding or run the risk of having the first wave taken out as well. This was their way to get to a presidential target.”

The team comes rushing in then, JJ has his go bag in her hands, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’ll change, Y/N tell them what I told you,” he orders, ushering her out of the room and closing the curtain on himself so he can change.

She repeats Aaron's thoughts, and Derek supports his theory by explaining that Sam never called 911. He called the same number 9 times, a disposable phone, that was destroyed around the same time Sam died. They planned this. This is their end game. They had to get moving.

Derek, JJ and Rossi head down to the garage while Y/N Hotch and Reid head up to the operating floor to warn the secret service. The hospital begins evacuations, Derek finds a bomb in the ambulance and Penelope puts a jammer on the cell phone signal so it can’t go off while they think of the next steps… then Derek gets the brave idea to drive the ambulance out of there, towards a clearing, all by himself.

It’s stupid, it’s reckless… but it works.

They find the unsub, the paramedic that Hotch drove in with, sitting down in the ambulance bay, knife to his throat and phone detonator in his hand. He’s waiting for a reconnection. One that will come in 10 seconds. But they’re already onto him… he has no choice but to end his life or go to prison. So he picks up a blade and slits his own throat.

The case ends with 8 dead civilians, an injured cop, 3 dead suspects and the death of Kate Joyner.

Aaron leaves with a broken heart and ringing in his ear that doesn’t seem to be stopping any time soon.

The majority of the team heads home. JJ leaves as soon as she can, newly pregnant and with the love of her life. Derek, Reid and Rossi all head back in the bureaus jet… Y/N offers to drive Aaron home. The pressure in the air would hurt him in her flight and taking the train home alone would be sad, so she drives him.

They drive in silence most of the way. He has a few naps, waking up only to drink some water and take more medicine. She expected to be bored, but keeping him safe, making sure he gets home okay, that’s more than worth it.

—

Back at Quantico, Aaron’s placed on a medical leave of absence while he recovers from his ear injury. He’s not happy about it. Not at all. He isn’t allowed to join them on cases, and he’s not even supposed to come into the office until he has a doctor sign off that he’s good to go back into the field… but that doesn’t stop him.

He needs something to do. He’s so bored in his bland little apartment that he comes into the office just to hang out with Anderson and help with paperwork.

He has a couple MRI’s lined up in a week to check the damage to his ear, it still hasn’t stopped ringing which he doesn’t quite mind… it’s the pain that bothers him. He’s been given a prescription for T3s, which worry Y/N just a little. They worry Reid a lot.

Everyone in the office stays up to date with Hotch’s condition, they all talk about it like he’s their father in a nursing home, prescribed something new. It’s sweet how much they care, but Aaron hates being doted on. He hates that people see him as weak even if it’s just for a little while. It sucks not being the leader they’ve come to know and love. But the thing about love is that it doesn’t stop once you get hurt, it just gets bigger.

They’re talking on the phone again too, he holds the receiver to his good ear and he turns on subtitles for their shows so he can still follow along. Every now and then he has her repeat something, and he scolds himself, saying he feels like he’s 85 and senile but she loves it.

“Hey, it just means you actually care about what I have to say.”

“I do care,” he reminds her. “And I appreciate how much you care about me too… I almost forgot what it’s like to have someone care about me so much.”

“Has she reached out at all since the accident?” She pries.

“She brought Jack over the other day for a few hours, he just wanted to cuddle and show me his toys which was nice… Haley sat in the corner and read a magazine the whole time. She didn’t even ask about it.”

“I’m sorry, Aaron,” her heart breaks for him. She knew that the divorce wasn’t his idea, not even the slightest… he still loved her. He probably always would.

He brushes it off, asking her about their latest case instead. She told him everything, from the time they gathered in the briefing room until the flight back home, she recounted it all. He just hummed along, letting her know he was following, he didn’t ask many questions, seemingly because he knew if he just listened longer they’d be answered.

It becomes a habit after that. He calls at the end of a case just to ask her how it went. He knew he could read about it in the paperwork later, but it was more rewarding this way.

He has 1 week left until his ear is healed completely, he’s convinced the doctor to let him go back to work if he takes it easy, which means once they get back from their current case, he’ll be back out there.

He calls her at 11pm Virginia time, knowing she’s just an hour behind him in Illinois. They’re done with the case but staying 1 more night just to sleep it off. He expects her to be in her own hotel room, away from the others, able to take his call… she isn’t. She’s sharing with JJ.��

She sees his name on her caller ID and takes her phone with her to the door, “I’m just going to take this I’ll be right back,” she assures JJ.

“Do you have your room key cause I don’t want to get up and let you back in, I’m exhausted,” JJ asks.

“Yeah, yeah I do,” she rushes out as she leaves the room. “Hello?”

“Hey, sorry were you asleep?”

“No, I’m sharing with JJ tonight, we were talking,” she shares.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, how are you? How’s the ear?”

“Good… I can go back to work tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” She repeats, concerned as all hell. “Aaron, you still have a tear in your ear, if you’re not careful you’ll lose hearing forever. It’s not a joke. Don’t you want to be able to hear? We can catch a few more bad guys without you. It’s okay?”

“I need to come back to work before I lose my mind,” he responds with a bit of an attitude. “If I have to sit in my tiny ass apartment and stare at these white walls any longer, I will go crazy.”

“I rather you mad than deaf,” she explains, trying to keep herself together. “If you come back to work you’re taking it easy. I’m going to stick to your side like glue, you hear me? I’m not letting this get worse.”

“Fine, mom,” he teases her. “Whatever you wish.”

“I thought you liked that I cared?” She teases back. “You’re my best friend, who else am I going to talk to if you can’t hear me?”

“You can’t get rid of me that easy,” he assures her. “It’ll be fine.”

—

The Angel Maker case is one she studied at the academy. Victims were beaten with the assailants' bare hands until they were dead. Post-mortem stab wounds were found in each victim's torso, made by a screwdriver, each victim's wounds in a different pattern. Some with more holes than the others, as if he was experiencing different amounts of rage with each woman. There were also signs of sexual assault. He completely abused these poor women after death. It was a good thing they caught him.

He died a year ago yesterday, by lethal injection at the prison in Lower Cannon, Ohio. They thought they were done with him as soon as he was lowered into the ground…

Their newest victim, Delilah Grennan, was bludgeoned to death with what is assumed to be a hammer. She too, was stabbed in the chest with a screwdriver. She was also raped. Only the weird part was the semen left at the crime belonged to Cortland Bryce Ryan. The Angel Maker himself.

“So this unsub is a weaker guy?” Derek proposes. “Or at least someone who perceives themself as weak?”

“He brought along the hammer to make sure the job was done,” Y/N adds, staring across the table at Aaron, watching him blink slowly. He’s in pain as if someone smacked him upside the head with a hammer and he’s keeping it to himself.

She almost misses Rossi’s hilarious joke about the elephant in the room… the dead man's seamen at the crime scene, that elephant, all because she’s staring at Hotch. “It’s obvious someone planted the DNA at the scene,” Aaron adds, his voice small yet powerful at the same time.

“In the victim…” Derek reminds him.

“That’s one theory,” Spencer mumbles.

“There's another theory?” JJ asks, leaning over the back of his seat, wondering what’s going on inside that genius head of his.

“Think about who shares the exact DNA profile as another person,” he hypothesizes.

“Reid, you’re not seriously floating around the idea of an evil twin?” Morgan groans, knowing Reid all too well.

“No, I’m not. I’m floating around the idea of an Eviler Twin,” he raises his brows, proud of himself for that one. No one else finds it funny. “Traditionally the concept is a good twin and an evil twin. But in this case, it’s evil twin, Eviler twin.” He says it with more suspense this time.

No one says anything. Y/N just shakes her head, trying not to smile cause it was funny… and then Aaron grips his forehead and hunches forward, something is making his head hurt.

“JJ get him some water,” Y/N suggests right away, keeping her voice down. “Hey, where are your pills?”

He points to his bag over on the other side of the aisle and she’s quick to pull his bag over and start looking for them. She takes two from the little orange medication bottle and slides them across the table just as JJ brings him a glass of water.

“Were you actually cleared to fly?” Morgan asks in a similarly low tone.

Aaron swallows down his medicine and nods, he doesn’t say anything, he just rests his head back against the headrest and keeps his eyes closed. Everyone turns to Y/N instead, asking questions with their eyes. She shrugs, she doesn’t know what to say. Other than she knew this would happen.

—

It happens again when they’re digging up the original unsubs grave. The sound of the metal grinding as the front-end loader hauls the coffin out of the dirt, it’s way too loud for Aaron. He covers both of his ears and starts walking away, cowering from it all. She pats Reid's shoulder so he stays there and watches everything go down with the Sheriff and then she follows Hotch through the cemetery towards a tree that he’s leaned himself against.

She carefully runs her hand over his side, inside his suit jacket, “hey,” she whispers, getting him to look at her. He’s almost crying with how bad it hurts.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispers back.

“How am I supposed to look at you?” She argues, raising her voice a little. “You said you were cleared for duty. This isn’t what being cleared looks like. You’re going to go deaf if you don’t take it easy.”

“I’m going to go deaf if you keep yelling at me like I’m 4,” he spits back. Reaching into his pocket for more pills, she takes the bottle from him.

“Uh-uh, no. You had two 3 hours ago. It’s not time for more. Stop putting yourself in harm's way and relying on these,” she scolds him. She steps in even closer to him so it’s just them to hear. “I care about you. I’m not letting you ruin your life because you can’t find the patience to actually heal properly.”

She has her finger pressed into his chest as she stares him down, asserting her own dominance over him. “I’ll be administering these to you from here on out, got it?”

He nods. “Yes ma’am.”

“Good, now the noise has stopped over there, go look in the casket and then I’m driving us back to the precinct,” she says as she steps away from him and marches away.

Reid and the sheriff were the first to see that the casket was empty. Someone stole his body and god knows how long ago. Aaron takes once glance at the empty box and heads back towards the SUV, getting in the passenger side with a huff.

“What’s going on with him?”

“He’s not better. He wasn’t cleared because he’s healed. He was cleared because he’s a sweet talker and the doctor believed his bullshit,” she rants. “He’s taking his meds like candy, he’s not taking care of himself… so I let him have it. I’m going to drive us back, I’m administering his meds from now on. He’s going to actually heal whether he likes it or not.”

Reid follows her to the car, and as soon as they’re out of earshot of the local cops, he asks it. The question she’s been dreading hearing.

“You love him, don’t you?”

“What?” She turns to him with a faux look of confusion. “I mean, yeah? We all do. He’s our boss?”

“No. If this was just you protecting a co-worker, you would’ve done the same thing for me after Tobias Hankel…”

“Spencer,” her heart breaks for him. “I wanted to help you, we all did, but we didn’t know how.”

“You just did to him what you should’ve done for me,” he almost cries. “You should’ve reached into my bag and taken the drugs away from me… but you didn’t. Because I’m just a co-worker to you. Admit it. You love him.”

“I can’t,” she gives in. “He still loves Haley. I’ll never be her.”

“No, you can’t… but maybe he doesn’t want you to be,” Reid simplifies it. “maybe he needs you to be everything she wasn’t.”

“I don’t know,” she sighs, “but we’ve gotta go… I’m sorry, by the way.”

“It’s okay,” he places his hand on her arm and they keep walking. “I’m not jealous or anything, I just sometimes get mad that it happened to me at all.”

“You can talk to me about it whenever,” she makes sure he knows that. “I’m always here for you.”

“Thanks,” he smiles at her, knowing she means it.

—

Turns out, they had difficulties putting Ryan to death. The whole town had a conspiracy that he never actually died… so finding his empty casket rocked the whole police station. Even in his last words, he said he’d come back to life to finish what he started. Putting the town at ease was their number one priority, aside from catching the new killer. Because a town in panic causes more crime, and more death than a single killer could even imagine.

Hotch proposes that the person who took Ryan's body is the same person doing these copycat killings. They had to’ve had help from inside the prison… probably the same person who was getting all his memorabilia and… fluids, out of the prison.

Yesterday, before they found the empty grave, Derek interviewed a guard at the prison, Guard Rutledge. Weird guy. Sketchy, Derek called him.

So, what are the odds that when Garcia— the ever-incredible computer genius who leaves no stone unturned— searches the web for Angel Maker memorabilia, the most common seller is a man by the name of Sid Rutledge? Slim pickings, but of course, our girl Garcia figured him out.

Morgan is tasked with repaying Rutledge another visit, this time, at his house. He takes Y/N along with him for backup and the two of them make it to his house just after nightfall.

They knock on his door, making their presence known, “Sid!! FBI Open up… come on, man, I just want to talk.”

She peers through his windows, there’s no movement in the main room and all his lights are still on. “I’m not seeing anything?”

Derek twists the doorknob, testing if he can get in before he breaks a door down (he’s good at that) and the door pushes wide open.

“That’s weird,” Y/N remarks. “Guys got two deadbolts and doesn’t bother to lock either?”

“Sid?” Derek calls out once more, unholstering his weapon and raising it. “Sid, we’re coming in.”

Y/N follows his lead, holding her weapon, her finger on the safety, she doubts she’ll have to use it but just in case… they search around his main living room, clear the kitchen and then head off towards the bedroom, down the hall. From the doorway Derek can see the man’s feet, he’s laying in bed.

“Wakey-wakey, my man,” he shouts as he pops into the room and finds something they didn’t expect.

Rutledge, laying in his bed with his pants off, in just his shirt and boxers, dead. Shot in the head and in the groin.

“That’s personal,” Derek says under his breath.

They put their guns away, Y/N pulls rubber gloves out of her back pocket and starts to put them on. In her other back pocket, a wad of evidence bags.

“Well yeah, he was selling the unsub memorabilia… Rutledge knew his face.”

“Now the unsub’s covering his tracks,” Derek says with a sigh. Putting his own gloves on before taking out his cell phone. “Hey, Hotch… we’re gonna need crime scene and the coroner at Rutledge's place… yeah. Shot twice, I’d say he’s been dead for at least an hour, maybe two. Yeah. See you back at the precinct soon. Bye.”

“You think he contacted the unsub after you visited him at the prison? Maybe he wanted them to get their stories straight?”

“That or he threatened him… he might’ve wanted the glory of catching a killer?” Derek proposes.

She looks around his room for a moment, nothing sticks out, so she heads to the bathroom. “God, it stinks in here… muggy and thick, too much old spice.”

“Really? He strikes me as an aqua velva kinda guy,” Derek teases.

In the bathroom, what does she find on the first shelf? That exact cologne. “you're good!”

“I’ve been at this longer than you, kid,” he teases. “Anything good in there?”

On the counter, there’s a bottle of pills. She suspects antidepressants or even allergy meds, nope. She reads the bottle and laughs, “No shit… Viagra.”

She makes her way back out into the room and holds the bottle up, “I think we’ve got this unsub all wrong.”

“Why?”

“He was taking Viagra. You only leave the door open and take this when you’re expecting someone. There doesn’t look to be a struggle in here either, his pants came off willingly… either Sid’s gay or our unsub is a woman.”

They bring their findings back to the police station, most of the crew has gone home for the night and the minimal, small-town, night shift has clocked on. Y/N and Derek walk in on JJ and Reid sitting together at the table, Hotch pouring himself more coffee and Dave on the phone in the back room.

“we’ve got news,” Derek announces.

“He was taking Viagra,” Y/N places the evidence bag on the table. “I sent the crime scene photos we took to the computer, you’ll see on there that there wasn’t a struggle. He was shot in the head and in the junk… he was expecting the unsub for sex.”

“I knew it!” Reid lets out a cheer, almost too loud for their little bubble. “When you were gone I was suggesting that. There’s an abnormally high amount of female fans of serial killers, the way they love these killers is fascinating, there are endless lengths that these women will go to, to feel closer to the killers. Buying his sperm, continuing his killings… to a psychopath, in her mind, doing those things would bring her closer to him. A woman in love, no matter how her brain works, would do anything for the man she loves.”

Y/N just looks at reid with wide eyes, feeling called out in a sense. Of course, he’d come to that conclusion after their talk and what he’s seen. She just hopes Aaron doesn’t realize it too. She’s not ready to lose a friend because of her stupid crush on him.

—

On their 3rd day in Ohio, they finally give the profile. They fill the cops in on their theory and in doing so, they calm the nerves of the town thinking a ghost is on the loose, killing these women. It takes up an hour of their morning, they answer every question available and then start narrowing down suspects.

JJ gets a list of women who visited Ryan in prison before he was put to death and Reid goes back through his fan mail to ascertain a pattern that would lead them to the unsub. Alongside that list of women who visited Ryan, they also found out that Sid Rutledge worked at a woman’s prison. He had a history of smuggling things in and out for sexual favours. Ie. they found the reason why he was shot in the dick.

They have two main suspect pools, insane fans and wronged women. Finding the cross over… that would be where the unsub is.

Y/N and Rossi are sent out on the road, their job is to interview the woman who visited Rutledge and wrote him. Most of them were crazy, basically harmless and not worth the time. Their last interview of the day, however, she— she was different.

Shara Carlino, she visited the angel maker 70 times and even bought herself a home overlooking the prison. She’s quite beautiful, you’d never know she’s fucked in the head… within those 70 visits, she was subject to their rigorous strip searches and 3-hour wait times just to see him for 10 minutes.

“That’s Two hundred and 10 hours of waiting and just 11 hours of face-to-face time with the love of her life?” Y/N does the quick math in her head and then shakes it.

“Would you endure that for a man?” Rossi teases.

“No… I’m more into catching the killers than fucking them.”

“Amen, sister,” Rossi jokes, knocking on Shara’s door.

“Hello?” She answers, just as pretty as her photo. Red hair, pleasant smile. She’s dressed up like she’s ready to go out… “can I help you?”

They hold their badges up, “Hi, yes, we’re with the FBI we’re looking into the recent copycat murders and we’d like to speak to you about Cortland Ryan.”

She invites them in, and offers them tea or coffee but neither of them takes a cup. They sit down at her kitchen table and Y/N opens a file. “According to the logs, you were the angel maker's number one fan?”

“His name was Cortland and I wasn’t a fan,” she spits back. Sensitive as ever.

“How would you categorize your relationship?” Y/N asks.

“We were lovers.”

“Last time I checked, they didn’t allow conjugal visits on death row?” Rossi makes a joke out of her comment.

“It wasn’t about physical interaction. When you take away the flesh, all that’s left is the soul,” she says with a mystical expression. Truly believing the words that leave her mouth. “Everything was understood between us. We had no secrets. Cortland made me feel alive in a way no free man ever could.”

Gross, she thinks… but pushes it away to ask her most pressing question: “Where were you on the 16th of this month?”

“Why?”

“We have reason to believe that this copycat killing was done by one of his female fans,” Rossi explains. “Someone who knew Cortland very well.”

“I was out of town with the company I work for, ask anyone there,” she states her alibi and stands by it, visibly hurt by the fact anyone else could be close to Ryan.

“Do you know another woman—

“there were no others,” she cuts Rossi off. Sure of herself.

“I can show you logs and fan mail,” Y/N starts sifting through her evidence folder. “I have photocopies of the letters, women who sent Cortland their photos and even their panties…”

“They didn’t mean anything to him.”

“But… whatever connection you had with Cortland died with him,” Y/N looks at her through her lashes, faking sympathy and driving the wedge in deeper. “Not the copycats. She believes that every time she kills for him, every time she repeats his ritual, their connection gets stronger and will keep getting stronger until she completes his mission.”

“That is of course, unless you help us stop her,” Rossi adds.

That breaks her. she’s visibly distraught by the thought that someone is closer to him than she was. They see it in her eyes that the psychopathic logic makes sense to her… “there was something… he sent me a letter a few months before his— his passing. I knew it wasn’t meant for me. It was addressed to “my dove.” He never called me that.”

“Do you have the letter?” Y/N asks, so close to the finish line she could taste it.

“No. I burned it.”

“Did the text reveal anything about the woman?” Rossi asks.

“The text was a joke,” she spits back. “Usually his prose was beautiful, seamless.. as if he didn’t even have to try. But this— this letter was pedestrian. Crude.”

“You never asked him who this Dove was?” Y/N pries further.

She shakes her head, staying quiet in her hurt.

“I thought there were no secrets between you?”

She laughs, looking Y/N up and down, “You’ve never been in love, have you.”

Y/N smirks, wanting to laugh at the assumption because oh, if she only knew…

Back in the car, she scribbles down some thoughts as Rossi drives. It’s quiet, the radio is on volume 4 and they barely hear it over the sound of their tires bumping down the old, crumbling paved road of this small town. She shakes her head, thinking to herself, how was it that Reid, someone who’s never had a deeply romantic love in his life could guess her feelings so fast and this woman, this deeply troubled yet deeply in love woman couldn’t see it.

She would go to the ends of the earth for Aaron. She’d kill for him if she had to. She wanted to cradle his head and kiss his hair, she wanted to make him lunches for work and dinner when they got home. She would have his babies for crying out—

“oh my god,” she speaks into the silence of their car. “Why else would she buy the sperm if not to just plant it at the scenes?”

“Cause she’s insane?” Rossi laughs.

“She wants his babies!” She makes herself more clear. “She wanted to make a mini Cortland… holy shit.”

She picks up her phone and calls Garcia, “Hey, weird question but are you able to access all obstetrics and gynecology records in this country, by any chance?”

“I can, why?” She asks.

“I think the unsub might’ve tried to get pregnant with the unsubs sperm… she might’ve had checkups, gone to the hospital because of a loss or even had the baby and it died, can you run all the records and cross it with women who visited Cortland and or went to the prison that Rutledge worked at?”

“I sure can try,” Penelope assures. “I’ll call you when I know more.”

—

On the morning of their 4th day, they have another victim. Same bludgeoned skull, same rape, same torso wounds. The house is just like the others too. No sign of forced entry and every single window in the joint was opened too.

Y/N, Hotch and Derek head to the crime scene, Reid, Rossi and JJ stay behind to look through the fan mail a 3rd time with their eyes open for “dove.”

Once the coroner is done with the body, they head back to see her for themselves. With her gloves on, Y/N moves the woman's shirt up to see her torso marks. She was the only one to see the first victim when they arrived, she knew of the findings and how there was paper in the wounds… she takes out her notepad and starts to draw out the marks, ripping off the page to then hold it over her.

“Aaron,” she calls him back over. “Look, Ryan knew what he was doing, he had it all memorized when he made his marks, this unsub needs a stencil, that’s why they found paper in the wounds of the first vic… and I think I know what they’re trying to make out.”

She takes out her phone again, calls Reid and puts him on speaker, “hey, whatcha got?” He answers.

“I think the unsubs were marking out constellations on the victim's stomach… but I don’t think it’s the zodiac?”

“I just found a secret code inside all the letters to Dove that I’m trying to crack… you know, there is a dove constellation, it’s part of the heavenly waters?”

“Reid,” Hotch makes his presence known. “Can you have JJ pull the images of every single victim, this case and the original, and match them to the constellations in that family?”

“I sure can… you know, it also makes sense why all the windows are open at the crime scenes now, he wanted their souls to escape back to heaven, he was quite literally making angels,” Reid explains.

“Sick… well, we’ll be back at the precinct in 30, nice work,” Y/N smiles as she hangs up.

—

When they arrive, JJ has all the torso pictures on the board with printed-off photos of the constellations. “There are 9 main constellations,” she explains once they’re close enough. “Ryan did 6 and our unsub has done two more, the only one she hasn’t done is the dove… either we’ll have a new body tonight or she’s going to do it to herself.”

“So she knew about the real meaning of the stomach marks but we didn’t?” Derek can’t believe it.

“They were a lot closer than we realized,” Rossi adds.

“More than that,” Reid pipes up, scribbling on his own whiteboard. “They were in love.”

“You cracked it already?” Y/N can’t believe it. It’s been not even an hour since their phone call.

He nods, “I profiled the author, Cortland Ryan. He was on death row with several high-ranking members of the Aryan brotherhood… either they taught it to him or he read a lot of 16th-century literature. The Aryans like to use a cypher based on a 400-year-old code written by Sir Francis Bacon…”

“So it’s a binary code,” Derek says with a sigh, always amazed at how Spencer’s mind works.

“Bacon used a 21-letter alphabet, this one is 24. Each letter is assigned a string of 5 binary digits. This combination yields 32 possible encodings. Normally, you’d use a computer to run all these combinations but it was quicker just to do it long-hand until I found the right one.”

Y/N wraps her arms around him and holds him close, “Oh, I love your brain, you beautiful genius, you!”

He blushes, and wiggles out of her grip, making his way to the table with all the letters. “Thanks… now, we don’t have a complete record of their correspondence, but I was able to make a chronology. The woman he calls “Dove” established contact right after the trial.

They all read through the letters, disgusted by what these two people called love. “Ew, okay here she said ‘Take heart, my love. I will bring a part of you back into this world… you will watch over us from the stars.’ Us. she was definitely pregnant when she wrote that.”

“Agent Hotchner!” The sheriff comes running to the room. “We just got reports of a woman attacked in her home by a female assailant.”

“Y/N, we’ll head to the scene, you 4, call Penelope, and tell her to make it her priority to cross-reference birth records with the women on our lists!” He calls as they all head towards the door. “I don’t care if you have to physically head to the local hospital and read through records and interview staff, I want a name!”

She follows Aaron out of the station and he searches his pockets for his keys, “you can drive, right?” She asks.

He nods, “I haven’t had any medicine at all today. I’m feeling better…”

“Okay, good,” she gets into the passenger seat beside him.

They buckle up their seatbelts and Aaron places his hand on her headrest, looking behind them, “Hold on.” He backs up and spins the SUV around, following the sheriff to the scene in his police cruiser.

Reckless driving shouldn’t be so hot… but she swoons anyway.

When they get to the scene of the crime, it’s so totally different from what they’ve seen 2 times before. The assailant pretended to break down and walked up to the victim in her driveway, asked to call a towing service and they tried to attack the victim. She screamed for help so loud the rest of the neighbourhood heard it, left their homes and beat the assailant into submission, subduing her until police could come make an arrest.

“Are you kidding me?” Y/N can’t believe who she sees in the back seat of the police cruiser… “That’s Shara. Shara Carlino. Rossi and I interviewed her the other day. Her alibi is solid.” She walks over to the cruiser and opens the door, Hotch in tow behind her. “What the hell, Shara?”

“It worked for her, why couldn’t it work for me!” She cries, bloody and bruised.

Y/N just shakes her head, “Because he’s dead. He’s a psychopath who never fucking loved you, he never could. You ruined your life for him, and for what? You don’t even look that good in orange.” She slams the door closed and scoffs. “And she accused me of never having been in love before.”

“Have you?” Aaron asks.

She wasn’t expecting that, she stands a little taller and shrugs, “I mean… yeah? Once or twice.”

“Third times the charm,” he teases, patting her shoulder and then walking back towards the SUV. They weren’t needed here.

—

They’re all sitting at the table when Penelope calls again.

“So there were 463 children born in Lower Cannon between 2006 and 2008,” Garcia recounts over the phone. “If you want me to find baby angel maker, I’m gonna have to narrow this down.”

“I have a letter here, there’s a quote from Cortland that says, ‘I knew even before you told me that the future had taken root,’” Y/N reads. “That must mean she did get pregnant… that letter was written January 7th, 2007.”

“Cool so fast forward 9 months—

“Ten, actually,” JJ corrects her. “There are 40 weeks of pregnancy, so it’s actually closer to 10 months.”

“Seriously?” Penelope had no idea.

“it was news to me too,” JJ rolls her eyes. “I’m going to be pregnant almost all year.”

“Damn, well, with that new math… I’m looking at August to September 2007… single mothers only, cause you know, you don’t want to brag— oh your baby daddies a 3rd-grade teacher? Mine likes to poke people in the tummy with tools… I have 9 names.”

They all laugh at Penelope's strange sense of humour. “Cross-reference them with women from the female Prison Rutledge was at,” Derek suggests.

“Chloe Kelcher,” Penelope announces.

“Wait,” Reid stands up and starts looking through his papers. He pulls a file from a box and places a piece of paper on the table. “She was on the jury…”

“She was exposed to the case evidence,” Derek adds. “That’s how she knew about the stomach wounds.”

“She fell in love with him sitting across from him in the courtroom,” Hotch says with a shake of his head. “She heard everything, she saw what he was capable of, and she wanted him anyway.”

“What happened to the baby, Garcia?” Y/N asks.

“He died at the hospital—

“Microvesicular Steatosis,” Reid finishes. “Microvesicular steatosis is characterized by small intracytoplasmic fat vacuoles— liposomes— which accumulate within hepatocytes. Most common causes are tetracyclines- or acute fatty liver of pregnancy, Reye's syndrome, and hepatitis C.”

“Okay… so the only way to stay close to him after the death of both him and her baby, was to keep killing. Two questions, how did she pick her victims and how do we figure out the last one before it’s too late?” Hotch asks.

“Look at the type of women she was killing, as opposed to Ryan going after women who sexually excited him, she needed a way to get close to them. Delilah made jewelry and sold it from her home, Maxine ran a daycare out of her house. This would give Chloe an opportunity to make an appointment with them and gain access to their homes… and then she could go to the bathroom, crack a window and hope it was still open when she returned in the middle of the night,” Y/N proposes.

“Okay, let’s get suited up, Garcia, send us her address and search her internet history, see if she’s booked a time to meet with anyone today,” Hotch orders and then hangs up the phone.

At her house, she’s nowhere to be found. What they do find, however, is a kid's bedroom covered in glow-in-the-dark stars and the decomposing body of Cortland Ryan in a treasure box near what would’ve been her baby crib. It’s disgusting… they call the coroner to pick him up and keep searching the house.

The Sheriff finds her Filofax filled with dates off appointments and people she knows… she had visits with both Delilah and Maxine the day before their murders, but no tools. No Rape kit, either.

“She had an appointment this morning,” Dave announces, reading the book back. “Faye Landreaux, 126 North Red—

“Red River Drive,” The Sheriff finishes the address off. “She’s a CPA, she does my taxes.”

“Does she work out of her house?” Aaron asks.

“Yep.”

“Let’s go.”

—

At the scene, they find Chloe’s car parked on the road. The windows are closed, that’s a good sign that nothing has happened yet… but they need a plan. They need a way to make sure this ends without another death.

It was Y/N’s job to draw the suspect's attention away from her next victim, speaking to her through a bullhorn while Derek snuck into the house and got the victim to safety. She makes Aaron stand away from the bullhorn, his good ear closest to her so that she doesn’t ruin his hearing further as she talks the suspect away from the bedroom.

She taunts her, reading letters Cortland wrote to other women, making her question the love they had for one another. “He wasn’t capable of loving you. He was a narcissist, Chloe. He was lying to you. He wrote countless women the same words.”

Reid quickly recalls the letters from memory, rushing the words down on paper and holding them up to her.

“Possessions matter not to a condemned man but I cannot leave this world without seeing your face one last time,” Y/N reads over the bullhorn. “It isn’t your fault that he made you feel these things, trust me. It isn’t your fault your baby died.

Just then, Derek returns with the victim. While what Y/N was saying made her upset, losing a victim just made her furious.

It was her last chance to complete the love of her life mission and be joined together forever in the afterlife… another crazy conclusion made in the mind of a psychopath.

“It’s over Chloe, we have Faye,” she says through the bullhorn. They hear her destroying things inside, so she adds. “You have nowhere to go.”

“I think we have some teargas ready to go,” the sheriff adds.

“We’re not going to need it, she doesn’t have any place to go,” Aaron assures him.

“Maybe she’ll do us all a favour and put herself down?” He suggests.

“No, she won’t do that either. She’s not done,” Aaron knows her too well.

After a few moments of silence, Chloe starts to come out of the house. Everyone draws their weapons and points them at her as she wields a small revolver. Rossi asks her to put it down but she doesn’t back away.

“Go stand back there,” Y/N suggests to Aaron, motioning behind the car with her head while she keeps her gun locked on Chloe. “If we shoot you’re going to be in pain again, go. Now, Aaron.”

Surprisingly, he listens. He makes his way away from them just in time for Chloe to raise her weapon and the sheriff pulls the trigger, knocking her to the ground. He and Y/N rush to Chloe, taking her weapon from her before they check on her… she’s gone. This is what she wanted. It’s then that Y/N notices what she’s done. Made herself the last victim, completing what the angel maker set out to do a decade ago.

She really was his dove.

When she looks back, Aaron is holding his head and leaning forward, even at a distance it still made his ear ring. She walks over to him and holsters her gun, “you okay?”

“I’m good, I’m good… thank you for making me move,” he says in a hushed tone.

“You’re welcome,” she says but she doesn’t feel good about it. He’s still hurting. He was going to keep hurting until he was fully healed.

—

They spend the night in a hotel, partnered off to save money when they know the price of keeping the jet in a hangar for another night is already ridiculous.

Rossi pays for his own room on nights like this, leaving 1 person lucky enough to also have their own room… so they give it to JJ. Now that she’s pregnant she deserves something nice.

Derek is with Reid, leaving Y/N with Hotch. The way she wanted it.

They change separately in the bathroom, he goes first and then they switch. By the time she’s done and coming back out, Aaron is sitting in his bed, reading through a case file.

She puts her bag down by her bed and takes a chance. She sits on the edge of Aaron's bed and he looks at her softly, smiles even, “Thank you for being hard on me this week.”

“I was just about to apologize,” she admits. “I don’t like raising my voice at you, but someone has to take care of you.”

“You were right, though… I wasn’t fully cleared, I lied and said I’d stick to light duty but I threw myself into this case thinking it would be fine.”

“I know,” she sympathizes with him. “You’re going through a lot. Your job is really all you have left and when you can’t go to work, what else are you going to do?”

“Go crazy,” he laughs. “I’m not going to fly home tomorrow. I’m going to drive back.”

“That’s a long drive, like 7 hours back to Quantico?” She worries. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, no… not unless you want to?” He looks at her with puppy dog eyes. He’d never ask, but he’d let her if it was her idea.

“We can make it a whole thing, I mean tomorrow is Friday, we have the weekend off, we don’t need to be back in Virginia till Monday,” she suggests. “We could have some fun?”

“That sounds nice,” he agrees. “Would it… would it be weird to hug you?”

“Not at all,” she doesn’t mind in the slightest, she simply moves in closer and opens her arms.

She holds him there, resting her chin on his shoulder, she closes her eyes and makes it last. He’s so warm, his strong arms feel so comforting and he smells good, too. It’s perfect. She didn’t realize how badly she craved his touch until he was pulling away and it felt like it was over too soon.

“Any time you need a hug, let me know,” she offers. Leaving it at that.

—

They take the long way home.

It only takes an hour for them to get out of Ohio, they make it to West Virginia around lunchtime and pick a random small town to go get some food. The diner they pick is so cute, old-time-y and pink, the waitresses are on rollerblades, it feels like they’ve been sent back in time.

They go further back in time, however, when they decide to stop at the little antique shop just down the road.

Most of the stuff is junk… that’s to be expected. But there’s a box near the counter, “photos ¢25 each” and they’re almost all in black and white, some sepia and faded, but all old. That’s for sure.

She digs through the pile while Aaron looks around at a few things and she finds a few that just break her heart. A 30’s bride, smiling wide with the biggest bouquet of flowers she’s ever seen, just excited to marry the love of her life… and a couple sitting on the porch of their first house, he has his arm around her and she’s got her hands on her pregnant belly. they’re starting a life together. There are school photos and family pictures, all worn with time and left to collect dust in someone else’s shop.

The saying is “A picture is worth a thousand words” but each photo here is worth a thousand years. Most of the people in these photos are dead now, their love only exists here, in this shop, in her hands. These people who fell in love and lived to the best of their abilities and died surrounded by family, they had no idea where these photos would end up… so she buys a bunch of them, to keep their memories alive longer.

One of them she buys not just for that reason… but because the couple in the photo looks a little bit like her and Aaron. Part of her thinks that she was always meant to find these, Aaron was meant to get hurt, they were meant to go on this drive and her photos were supposed to come back to her. Her whole heart is so sure that she’s loved Aaron before, that she’ll love him again too, she’ll love him in every lifetime until the world dies too.

She keeps the photos that she wants to buy in her hands as she makes her way around the store. Aaron’s in the back, looking through stacks of old newspapers and letters. He looks up at her and smiles, “look at this,” he hands her a handful of letters. “These are from 1944, a couple sent them back and forth to each other during the war… look how in love they were.”

She reads through the letter with tears in her eyes. Stories of this couple's missed anniversary, their oldest child was starting to learn how to play baseball, their youngest had just started to walk… she ends every letter the same. “I pray to god every night you make it home to me, I know he’s working on it for us.”

She holds her hand over her heart and tries so hard not to let out the sob, “Oh my god?”

“I know,” he smiles, glossy-eyed and blushing. “What did you find?”

“Photos,” she hands them to him. “Doesn’t this guy look like you?”

“Oh, wow…” he honestly can’t believe it. He runs his pointer finger over the woman who looks like her and his shoulders drop. “I guess we’ve been here before.”

“I think we have,” she agrees. “How weird is it that out of all the places we could’ve gone, out of everything that could’ve ever happened, you got hurt just in time for us to have to drive through West Virginia?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know… you know my mother's family used to live here in 1745, they were coal miners.”

“So you might actually be related to this guy?” She holds the picture up again.

He nods, “that or I’m a vampire,” he jokes. “I’ve been living here for hundreds of years.”

She shoves him, “You’re so funny.”

They wander around some more, Aaron finds a painting he likes and she picks up a cute set of dishware and when they go up to pay, the owner smiles at them. “Together or separate?”

“Together,” Aaron answers over Y/N saying “separate.”

“You don’t have to,” she worries but he takes the plates and her photos from her hands and puts them on the counter.

“I want to,” he assures her with a smug smile.

“First date?” The lady asks, so sure she’s got it right.

They shake their heads, “Co-workers, we had some business to attend in Ohio and thought we’d take the long way home…”

“Oh,” she smiles to herself, knowing there’s something else there… she can feel it. “Well, I’m glad you stopped here, these things were in need of a nice home to go back to.”

“Aaron here has a new apartment that is very boring,” Y/N teases. “This painting will be perfect for the wall in his kitchen.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Aaron muses.

She gives them a total, Aaron pays in cash and she wishes them well on their journey home. “I hope to see you back here one day.”

“Us too,” Y/N answers, giving her a smile and a wave.

—

They keep driving east, thinking they could probably make it back to D.C. around 3 in the morning if they didn’t stop. Instead, they pick out a cute little bed & breakfast with the hopes of staying there for the night.

The little bell on the door rings as Aaron holds it open for her, there’s a little old lady sitting behind the counter crocheting, she looks up when she hears the noise. “Oh, hold on, my daughter just ran to the back to get more receipt paper, she’ll check you in in a moment.” She has a posh English accent and a sweet smile.

“Thank you,” Aaron gives her a smile back.

They don’t have to wait long, a middle-aged woman comes out from the back room and stops dead in her tracks when she sees there are people. “Oh, I’m sorry to keep you waiting, did you have a reservation?”

“No, we’re just driving though and wondered if you have a couple rooms we could book?” Aaron asks.

She clicks her tongue off the roof of her mouth, “Uh… oh, no, we only have 1 room left—

“Does it happen to have two beds?” Y/N cuts her off, scared to have to share.

“No, I’m sorry, we have just the one queen left,” she explains. “I can call the inn 30 miles down the way and see if they have two rooms left?”

“No, no it’s okay,” Y/N brushes it off, “I don’t mind sharing…”

“As long as you’re okay with it,” Aaron agrees.

“We’ll take it,” Y/N decides, giving the lady a soft smile.

As the woman starts to write up their receipt and mark her books that the room is taken, Y/N asks about breakfast. “What time is breakfast tomorrow?”

“We can bring it to your room between 7 and 11,” the elderly lady explains, going into detail about the meal options they have.

“You’re in room 6,” she explains, “it’s going to be $173 for the one night and the breakfast in the morning…”

Y/N beats him to the punch this time, taking her credit card out and setting it on the table, “you bought everything earlier, it’s my turn.”

“Fine,” Aaron lets her do it. “But I’m getting lunch or dinner tomorrow.”

“You can try,” she teases, punching in her information and running her card through the machine.

“And I just need you to both sign the guest book,” the keeper explains, pushing the book toward them. “You know, in case you go missing and the police need to recount your steps,” she says with a laugh. Thinking it could never happen.

“We are the police,” Y/N teases.

“FBI actually,” Aaron adds. “It’s a good thing you keep these, I can’t tell you how many times we’ve reached a dead end because people don’t update their books.”

“Oh, well, thank you,” the woman stands a bit taller, feeling proud of her little business.

They get their key after that, they head back to the car to get their bags and head to their room… they’re quiet at first. She heads into the bathroom to change and hype herself up for what’s about to happen. She has to share a bed with the love of her life knowing he doesn’t feel the same about her. She doesn’t know if he’s going to make a pillow wall between them or sleep with his own blanket so they don’t have to touch. She’s so nervous she doesn’t know what to do.

She slips into her work pyjamas, just a simple pair of shorts and an old college t-shirt, she brushes her teeth and adds a bit more deodorant because the last thing she wants is for him to not like her AND think she smells.

She’s honestly just a ball of anxiety.

When she comes out, he’s already changed. In his boxers and a white shirt, sitting on top of the covers with his phone pressed to his good ear. It’s barely 8pm, she can tell by the smile on his face that he called Jack.

“I love you too, buddy, have a good sleep,” he says with a whispered tone. “Bye.”

She puts her bag down by the night table on what will be her side of the bed tonight. “How is he?”

“He’s good… He’s starting school next week. I can’t believe how big he’s getting,” he explains, shaking his head. He hates that he’s missing it too.

She takes a seat on the bed, facing him, her one leg curled under the other, “are you going to drop him off?”

He nods, “I’m going to try my best to be there that first morning, I want to get some pictures of him walking in and wearing his big backpack.”

“That’s going to be so cute,” she swoons. “Oh, I wish I could see it.”

“Come with me?” He asks, “I can pick you up on the way to work, you’re close to his new school anyway.”

“That wouldn’t be weird?”

He shakes his head, “No… I mean, Haley might even have her new boyfriend there.”

“You’re kidding?”

He shrugs, “At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Her heart breaks for him. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be, I mean, it happens. Not many kids who meet in high school stay married for life,” he rationalizes it. “And the ones who do aren’t happy about it.”

“Still, I hate knowing she hurt you,” Y/N sympathizes. “You’re a good man. You shouldn’t have to choose between your job and your family. She knew this was your job when she got pregnant. I don’t know what she was expecting.”

“Me either,” he sighs, he puts his phone on the night table and leans back against the pillows. “Can I have some more medicine now?”

She laughs, he sounds like a kid when he asks. “Yeah, let me get it.”

She grabs a complimentary bottle of water off the dresser and gets his pills from her purse, she hands him two and watches him take them. “You know why I stepped in, right?”

He nods, taking both his pills before he speaks again. “I appreciate it, too. I wasn’t using them as instructed, it could’ve gotten bad.”

“We almost lost Spencer and no one stepped in,” she whispers, ashamed that they all knew and did nothing. “I couldn’t let that happen to you.”

He puts the bottle of water back down on his night table he takes her hand and pulls her closer and wraps her up in a hug, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I appreciate you more than you know.”

She hugs him back, her second hug in 2 days. She closes her eyes and bathes in his strength, “you’re my best friend.”

“You’re mine,” he assures her. “Come get in bed?” He asks as she pulls back.

“Okay,” she nods, walking around to her side, he scoots under the covers and she pulls the covers down to get in herself. The lights are still on, but they lay on their sides and face each other, “this isn’t weird?”

He shakes his head, “I don’t think so… do you?”

“If I cuddle you in the middle of the night I’m sorry,” she says, feeling a bashful wave fills her cheeks with heat.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had someone to cuddle into… If anything, I just do it due to muscle memory,” he admits. “I’ll move away if—

“No, no you don’t have to,” she cuts him off. “Honestly, I might be nice?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, smiling softly.

He’s smiled so much today that it makes her heart so happy.

She nervously moves in closer to him, he lays back against the pillow and she cuddles into his side. He rests his arm on her back, she keeps her hand on his stomach and he holds it with his free hand. “I’ve had a lot of fun today.”

“Me too,” she swoons. She settles against him, she expected him to be hard… he looks so big and strong she didn’t expect him to be so soft and cuddly.

She could get used to this. However, this is not her life. Playing pretend is fun for a while but sooner or later she’s going to have to wake up and face the consequences. He doesn’t love her back, he simply misses having a wife.

She can play that role. She’s just not ready for the director to yell cut.

General Taglist

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @babybisexual @marsmunson86 @buckleyhans

IKP taglist

@southernraven @alluringshawn @lambsheepsheeping @lmg-stilinski24 @louderfortheback @deludedfruitcake

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #hotch smut #hotch x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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respectthepetty · 3 months

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Pit Babe Colors Ep. 10

I'm challenging myself with this show and seeing how good my color skills really are, so I'm doing my normal thing of watching it double-speed on mute, but now, the captions are off also. It's just colors and vibes here. Also, people stay spoiling this show for me in their reblog tags on my posts, so I know Charles and Jeffrey made a dumb plan but I have no idea what it includes beyond Jeffrey going to Big Red's.

Hand over heart, I think Sonic is really pretty, which is why I haven't fully thought he is a baddie, but I need a reason for him refusing to wear blue! North gets it together every now and then, but Sonic? Boy, quit relying on that face and follow the damn color assignment!

I'm missing something but I thought Charles and Barbara were fine yet here they are fighting, but Charles spidey sense is tingling, so something bad is gonna happen or will he have sex with Barbara like they did last week? And now the glasses are off! They better not have sex on this track.

Barbara is racing?! Dean was racing last week! Was Dean informed of this plot twist? Did Barbara get healed having sex with Charles last week?

You can take the red off the boy but you can't take the red out of the boy. You are acting so sus, Jeffrey! You had a full conversation with Charles and now you are just lurking in the background. Someone spoiled that he and Charles made a plan, but if the plan is murder, he is already failing at not being suspicious.

Another hand-over-heart moment, I have no effin' idea what happened on that race track because there was so many blues then a car went off the track, and I had no real idea who it was, but I do know JEFFREY HAS SOME EXPLAINING TO DO with his suspicious ass!

Big Red lives in the same place he has his cult meetings to show off his superpowered kids? Isn't there a rule of not having cult meetings where you spray your EIGHTY MILLION BONSAI TREES! That seems dumb and contradictory, but I'm not a mega villain so what do I know?

Red is usually an emergency room color, but the red yelling at me as Barbie feels all the bad things that happen in an emergency room is a lot. Charles isn't dead because color-coded boys in love get happy endings, but Barbie is probably feeling everything right now and it probably sucks.

"Don't be suspicious. Don't be suspicious." Jeffrey, you need to make out with Alan quickly to prove you're gay, because you canNOT do crimes, and are about to be in Kentana territory again. Whatever you and Charles planned, it was dumb and Barbie is now crying.

KENTANA! Are you in on this too?!

*Record scratch* Jeffrey went back to Big Red's with the dumb plan he and Charles cooked up involving Charles dying, yes? Yes! Kentana, as Big Red's whatever-he-is, knows of the plan, SO WHY IS HE BEING BEAT UP?! Kentana, break Kimberly out and run away to the beach together. Big Red doesn't even wear red! HE SUCKS! Leave!

Stuck between the blue and the red, I see. A choice has gotta be made, Kentucky Fried Chicken. Wings or Thighs? Legs are not an option. Legs are reserved for the elite squad of Peter, Alan, and Kimberly. You don't get legs! (WHERE IS KIMBERLY?!)

Barbie woke up in black. He has no man, but he has his powers, so either he is about to enter his rich widow era or he is going to go Kill Bill on these bitches.

Horrible take. Awful take. The WORST take, but . . . if Waymond didn't decide to be bad, he would have been the perfect person to comfort Babe and ease Barbie's pain, pero . . . he had to be a little bitch instead.

Oh, NOW you wanna follow the color assignment, Sonic. NOW?!

Well, Jeffrey picked up your mantle with his not-all-black outfit and bright ass white-wrapped flowers. This isn't a wedding, Jeffrey! IT'S A FUNERAL! Jeffrey, a note from The Sign's Dr. Chalothon - FAKE IT! Sir, that empty grave is supposed to be your roommate and partner-in-dumb-crime, yet I haven't seen one single tear from someone who just lost their buddy. You're more sus than the entire cast of Dead Friend Forever. How does Barbara not suspect your ass with his spidey senses?!

Damn you, Saltburn!

KIMBERLY! AND HE'S IN BLUE! *sliding down the wall and sobbing on the floor* MY BABY HAS RETURNED!

Wait! Pause! *squints* Why did Jeffrey bring Kim? And why to Alan's house? What in the Chuck E. Cheese is happening?!

Alan, Jeffrey's roommate is quote-unquote "dead" yet you are living your best life. Can you try to be sad too or are you in on this plan and this is why Kimberly is now looking beautiful on your couch?

The blue is between y'all, but just like Charles and Barbara having sex on every surface when Kimberly was being held hostage, do y'all have no shame? Making heart eyes at each other immediately after burying an empty coffin that was supposed to be Charles. Shame! At least pretend that Charles is dead! Or fill Barbie in on this dumb plan.

Vegas' Hedgehog, you pretty bitch. I hate you.

Barbie is watching the crash, and Jeffrey and Alan are playing footsie over Charles' quote-unquote "grave." But I already know I'm more upset for Barbie than he will be for himself because he'll forgive everyone for this bullshit lie in less than two minutes.

Does Barbara think Waymond killed Charles?! He might be shitty, but he is backed by the blue. He ain't guilty! Go speak to your boyfriend's roommate and his new boyfriend, Barbie!

Oh shit! I wasn't expecting you to actually go talk to them! Hold up! Is that blue on Jeffrey?! Does he actually not have anything to do with Charlie's quote-unquote "death"?

SONIC IS WEARING BLUE IN THE BACKGROUND!

Like I know shit is going down right now because Decanus sabotaged ANOTHER car *Pikachu face* but I don't think he is in on the dumb plan to "kill" Charles so . . . Kimberly wore blue this episode and Sonic is wearing blue (even though I think there is a shimmer of red there), and I'm crying in the club because this is all I wanted, and sorry to all of y'all, but the show could end right here, and I'd be happy.

Oh no. My man is crying. I am no longer happy. I am in pain. Why is he crying so hard? Was Dean his best friend? His brother? This feels personal. Jeffrey, come give our man a hug! Right now! RIGHT FUCKING NOW, JEFFREY!

Seeing Alan cry hurt way worse than anything else that happened. Charles isn't dead, so I'm just upset that Barbie has to cry and more upset that Barbara is going to be cool with whatever dumb plan Charles made without telling him, but Alan's tears were unexpected.

However, Sonic is back on his bullshit next week, so I can't stay in my feels too long.

And I get to see Peter while someone fully commits to the blue.

Oh, and we get to see the dumb-plan-that-made-Barbie-cry in more detail. *Arthur fist* Be upset at Charles for just one episode, Barbara. Just one damn episode, please. He didn't try to assault you like Waymond, but Charles has played with your emotions several times, and I just need you to knock 👏🏾 his 👏🏾 ass 👏🏾 out 👏🏾 too 👏🏾.

#pit babe #pit babe the series #the colors mean things #and they will guide me the whole way through #color coded boys in love #episode 10 #Kimberly is home!#And he and Sonic wore blue!#I could cry from happiness #but Alan is crying from sadness #and it feels inappropriate for me to be happy #and I have sympathy compared to these men who are happy to flirt #while their friends SUFFER!

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unhappy-last-resort · 2 months

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Astral Desires (Yandere Watanabe x Commandant GN Reader)

Warnings: Obsessive behavior, stalking(?), sneaking into your room without your knowledge, mentions non-con fingering, touches you in your sleep but nothing nsfw

A/N: This was sitting in my drafts for too long. Inspired by that out of pocket secret his astral frame has, that as far as I know, is not given any context or explanation so I assume he's just secretly insane and honestly. Fair.

Not proof read, please lmk any mistakes or improvements.

The lounge was quiet, save for an occasional patrol by the Gray Ravens checking in on their Commandant and making sure nothing was out of the ordinary. They've failed.

Watanabe knows this because Lee hasn't noticed his presence at all and he's willing to bet that he'll leave without checking every nook and cranny. Maybe one day he'll teach him to properly check for enemies without disturbing the Commandant, maybe. Right now though, their lack of awareness made sneaking into your room all the easier.

Lee appeared in his vision once again, doing his final cursory check of the lounge. Watanabe moved with him, staying crouched while evading his line of sight and the lounge security camera until Lee finally exited the room. Thankfully, Babylonia upgraded his Astral frame significantly, replacing his old stealth module with a new one and even adding additional modules and settings to enhance his abilities, turning what was an outdated frame into one that provided him with more of an edge over enemies and proved useful in ensuring a few deals for the Forsaken went smoothly. He should thank you for encouraging him to take it despite his dislike of Babylonia, he thinks to himself. Having verified the coast was clear, and knowing that the none of the other Ravens will make their rounds again for quite some time, Watanabe quickly opened the door to your dorm and entered, silently observing your dorm room as the door shut silently behind him.

Watanabe rolled his shoulders slightly, now he could relax a little more. He stood up straight and slowly walked to your sleeping form, not bothering to hide his presence save for his sound suppression module. You had a thin T-shirt on and he didn't care to guess what the sheets were hiding, he already knew. The artificial moonlight shining through your window illuminated your face beautifully, although he hated that you left the curtains open like that, he had to admit that he never tired of this sight. This was his and his alone.

During the daytime hours you're always putting on a brave face, keeping it together for your squad and others around you so they don't see the way your fingers trembled ever so slightly during the Space Station mission, or your anxiety as you're being shuttled to another mission, wondering if it's your last. At night however, it was different. When you think you're alone you'll let down your high walls and let your shoulders drop under the invisible pressure you always feel with every step. Sometimes you cry, stare at a wall in thought, or write in your journal. Watanabe always liked when you did that, because that's where all your unfiltered thoughts and feelings are put down. He's read every single page more times than he could count. It brought a faint smile to his lips, thinking about all the things he knew about you. You never opened up to him unlike the humans at the Forsaken HQ and his patience started to wear thin after a while.

He couldn't help it. He wanted- no, needed to know you more. Who were you under the heavy title of "commandant"? What were you like before? What would you be doing if it weren't for the Punishing Virus? Would you be happy if you lived on Earth, or do you prefer to live among the stars? Are you loyal to Babylonia or your companions? He wanted to learn so much about you, but you always kept a distance. He could feel it, he could feel an invisible wall you would put up, barring him from getting any closer and from your secrets slipping out, but you...you were like a flower blooming in the desert. Beautiful, resilient, and wonderous, can you blame him? Can you blame him for finally cracking and taking things into his own hands?

He moves towards your window and draws your curtains closed, careful not to be visible from any potential passerby. After all, your sleeping form and all the thoughts and expressions you don't let anyone else see is for his eyes and M.I.N.D. alone. He walks towards your bed slowly, as though he might wake you even though he knew you wouldn't, not even if he pried you open with his fingers. He only knows that because it done it a few times, oh how sweet your soft little whimpers were as you would squirm and writhe in your sleep. The memories tug a small smile out of the corner of Watanabe's lips and his eyes instinctually drag away from your face and down to your thighs at the thought.

Watanabe gently brushes the back of his fingers against your cheek, admiring the way your warmth seeps into his synthetic skin so easily, making his M.I.N.D. hum in satisfaction. He wonders if you'd ever let him this close to you if you were awake, he tilts his head in thought as his fingers brush your skin. Perhaps it's best that you don't, your position as a commandant might be put in danger if you allowed him to display his affection for you this way in public.

He pauses. Affection? Is this really affection, or just obsession at this point? He'd throw away everything for you if you asked him to. He would abandon everything if it meant he could have you, if it meant you'd devote yourself to him the way he does to you. God, if such a thing exists then grant him this one prayer.

Let him stay by your side until your youth fades and your body wilts and withers. And in your final moments, he'll capture your conscious and your memories so he can keep you and protect you until eternity.

Yes. Watanabe smiles softly as he gently lays next you, inhaling your scent and feeling your warmth. You are so naive, so trusting, but it's alright. He'll keep you safe. He's been around for longer, seen the deluge both humans and corrupted bring, he knows what's best. He knows what's best for you, he just needs you to trust him more. Watanabe slowly leans forward and softly kisses your cheek as his nose brushes against your skin.

"I'll keep you safe, Commandant. Even if you struggle against me, I'll make you come to me in the end."

#yandere watanabe #punishing: gray raven #yandere pgr #pgr watanabe #pgr x reader #watanabe x reader #yandere x reader #yandere watanabe x reader #cw noncon #nonhuman #yandere fic #yandere robot #unhappy writings #punishing gray raven imagines #punishing gray raven #yandere punishing gray raven

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fandomxpreferences · 2 years

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A Minute to Midnight

Pairing: Rooster x Reader, Platonic!Hangman x Reader (Barely)

TW: swearing, drinking, fluff, suggestiveness

Summary: You and Phoenix can't be blamed for what happens when you're left unsupervised. Luckily, Hangman is just a call away.

A/N: cracking up because this gif is the only thing I could think about when Jake was dropping reader off. also the morning scene is totally inspired by the scene in new girl where nick and jess are violently hungover lmao. Also this could be fun to write from the perspective of reader and Phoenix being out together and the car ride home with Jake too so lmk if that's something you'd want

Bradley looks at his watch for the third time in ten minutes, shifting restlessly on the couch. You told him you were going out with Phoenix at 6 and that you’d be home by 9. That was 6 hours ago and its one minute to midnight. It's not that he doesn’t trust you or want you to have fun. He knows you and Phoenix can take care of yourselves, but you always text him with updates. He picks up his phone once again, nothing. It's been radio silence since you left.

He had tried calling Phoenix to no avail when you didn’t respond to his ‘hope you’re having fun, love you’ text he sent an hour in. Its not like you had a curfew, but it was just dinner and you never stayed out this late. Especially with no contact.

Bradley was considering calling every member of the squad to see if anyone had talked to you when he heard a key in the door. His head shot up and he rose to his feet, waiting expectantly. He was ready to pounce as soon as the door swung open. “Its midnight! Where the hell were you?” He exclaims with his hands on his hips.

Your eyes are saucers and Bradley can’t help but feel bad that you look like a teenager who just got caught sneaking in by her angry father. His expression softens but quickly contorts in confusion when he sees Hangman standing behind you with his hand on your bicep. His eyes scan over the blonde mans expression trying to make sense of the situation. He notices that he looks annoyed and maybe even slightly… amused?

Jake notices Bradley’s expression and explains. “Your precious little princess here got absolutely obliterated out on the town with Trace. I just dropped her off, and now I’m delivering your precious cargo. She’s a handful. Literally wouldn’t talk about anything but her stud of a boyfriend. Was telling everyone in the bar about you.” He says it with a serious tone but Bradley can hear the humor in it.

He looks to you again and sees a sloppy grin on your face. You stumble forward and would have face planted if not for Jakes firm grip on you. Oh. Rooster tries to fight back his smile and fails. Bradley reaches out to grab you and you recoil so fast you almost fall again.

A flash of hurt crosses his face before being replaced with pride and amusement when you speak. Your voice is slurred when you say “I have a boyfriend. And he’s hot. And he flies planes for the navy. And he can kick your ass so pfffft” you blow a raspberry at the end of your sentence and Bradley can’t help but laugh.

Your face is screwed up into a serious expression and your arms are crossed to convey that there is absolutely no room for discussion on the matter. He can’t help but think how adorable it is and decides to play into it. “ Is that so? Then where is he?” He asks with a wide smile. He looks back at Jake again and the man is struggling to contain his laughter at the scene in front of him.

Your face falls as you whip around, presumably searching for the Sandy haired pilot. Your eyes land on Jake for second before turning in a full circle, now facing Bradley again. Your face lights up when you make eye contact with him. “There you are! Some yucky man was harassing me but I told him that I have a hot navy boyfriend! Now that you’re here I'm gonna climb you like a tree.” You remark with a smirk, throwing yourself into his arms.

He catches you and makes a face as you plant a slobbery kiss on his cheek. He laughs and you pull back frowning at him. “Why are you laughing Mr.Bradshaw. Im serious, I wanna fuckkkk” you say, dragging out the word with a sing-song tone. Bradleys eyes go wide and Jake almost chokes on his own spit.

“You’re drunk, sweetheart. I don’t think you’re gonna remember this in the morning.” He says. You scoff as if that’s the most absurd thing you’d ever heard. “Im not drunk, you’re just blurry.”You’re laughing now, only half aware of the situation as your legs start to betray you.

Bradley holds you up looking to Jake for help. The man just throws up his hands and makes a face to say ‘this is your problem’. Bradley sighs and briefly gives his attention to the man. “Thank you for getting her home safe. Text me where her car is so we can go get it tomorrow.”

Jake nods his head. “Sure thing. Good luck.” He says motioning to the hot mess in front of him. He turns to leave before pausing. “For what its worth, she holds her liquor well. From what I heard, even I’d be on my ass with how much she drank.” Jake laughs before shutting the door behind him.

Bradley turns his attention back to you and sighs. That means you’re going to be painfully hungover in the morning. He just hopes you don’t get sick. He scoops you up in his arms and you let out a squeal. “Lets get you to bed rascal.” He chuckles carrying you towards the room. You lean your head on his shoulder and look up at him through your lashes. “Finally. I’ve been thinking about you on top of me all night.”

Bradleys eyebrows shoot up as he sets you down on the bed. “As charming as that is, no such luck tonight sweet cheeks. You’re hammered and I’m a gentleman.” He says. You pout and flop back in the bed. “Fine. Your loss.” You huff.

Rooster moves around the room grabbing you comfy clothes before helping you change. “Trying to get me naked, Bradshaw?” You slur with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle. He rolls his eyes and smiles. “You wish, pretty girl.”

You hum in agreement. “Yes I do, Lieutenant.” You may be drunk but you know all the tricks to get under Bradleys skin. He shoots you a warning look and you just give a crooked smile and shoulder shrug in return.

Once you’re changed, he gets a wet cloth and wipes off your makeup. You look up at him with such adoration and he feels his heart warm. He kisses your forehead and tucks you into bed before doing his own bedtime routine. You feel him climb into bed a few minutes later, and doze off wrapped in his strong arms.

The next morning, you’re rudely awakened by Bradleys cell phone ringing on full volume. You groan loudly, noticing your voice is raw and your throat feels like the Sahara desert. “No, turn it off dear god.” you say kicking your boyfriend and throwing your pillow over your face. He reaches out and mutes his phone before turning to you.

“How you feeling sleeping beauty?” He asks with a smirk. You groan and peek at him from behind your pillow. “Fuck. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.” He nods and hums. “Yea, that checks out. I put water and excedrin on your nightstand.”

You sit up slowly before blindly grabbing for the pills and chugging them down. You set the empty cup back on the nightstand and plop back down. “Have I told you how much I love you?” You say Turning to him. “You were pretty obvious about it last night.” He says with a twinkle in his eye.

You whine and squeeze your eyes shut. “Oh god, what did I do.” You ask, wondering if you actually want the answer. Bradley laughs at your reaction and decides to really rub it in. “Why don’t you ask Hangman? He brought you home and got to witness first hand.” He tries and fails to keep a straight face as your eyes shoot open in horror.

“No.” You say In disbelief. Bradley laughs and pulls you into his side. “Oh yes. Apparently you and Phoenix are quite the little drinkers when left to your own devices.” You cover your face in embarrassment before looking up at the ceiling. “Im never going to hear the end of it am I?” You ask turning to look at him. He tsks before saying, “No, probably not. But we have the day off so we’re gonna stay In all day and you can avoid it until tomorrow.”

You smile and nod. “What are we going to do?” You inquire. He taps your side twice, signaling for you to straddle him. You climb into his lap and he places his hands on your hips before answering. “Well, I figured we’d make some breakfast first. Then I thought we could spend the rest of the day in bed. You had some interesting ideas last night.” Your eyebrow quirks and you look down at him. “Is that so, Lieutenant Bradshaw?” He flips you over in record time as you let out a loud laugh. “Oh, you’re in for it now.” He says, the night before and your pounding headache long forgotten.

#rooster top gun #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #top gun maverick #top gun imagine #top gun #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #Bradley Bradshaw topgun

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auroracalisto · 1 year

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not your business

robert "bob" floyd x gn!reader, platonic!jake "hangman" seresin x reader, 1.4k words tw: alludes to a past abusive relationship, abusive ex showing up at work, brief fighting, cussing, gn!reader but doll and hon are both used once a/n: i liked the idea of bob comforting the reader while jake defends them. this was ultimately born. i'm also working on being more descriptive in my fics... i'm struggling y'all

"Stay away from me!"

You heard yourself shouting, but you didn't know if the words had actually left you or not. A lump formed in the back of your throat as you tried to keep yourself from crying.

Kellan stood across from you, face hard. You had evaded him for this long, and now that he had found you, you start yelling at him? He had half a mind to yell right back at you, but he knew it wouldn't work. He was better than that.

It had been nearly two years. Two years in sunny California, far away from the worries that once plagued your daily life. You had found a job at the Hard Deck, and day in and day out, you would have the time of your life knowing that you were safe with your friends. The sandy beaches and wide open skies became your favorite thing, especially when you were with him—your Bobby. You could only wish that that's where you were at this very moment, not standing here in the middle of the bar you worked at, the yellow glow of the lightning shining down on you as you were targeted.

The heat of the night burned your cheeks—or, maybe that was the fear you felt creeping up your spine, threatening everything you had found. It could all end, in a matter of minutes. With Kellan here, he could take you away.

You might not ever see Bob again. Tasha. Jake.

You couldn't let that happen. That couldn't happen.

Panic blossomed in your chest as you stared him down.

How did he even find you? You did your best to become a ghost of his past. You left in the middle of the night; no note, no text, no call. You blocked him on everything you could think of.

It obviously didn't work. Why didn't it work?

"Come on, Y/n, don't be like that," he said, raising his hands in mock defense. He took a step towards you and you immediately took a step back, unknowingly bumping into a table.

You quickly looked back, panic striking you where you stood. Thankfully, there was nothing on the table to knock over. But as you looked back, your eyes glanced over at the pool table the Dagger Squad surrounded. Bob had abandoned his drink on the edge of the table, taking a step closer to you. You quickly averted your eyes, not wanting him to see you so vulnerable.

They knew you were capable of defending yourself. Bob glanced back at his friends, a deep frown on his lips. This fucker was about to meet his end.

You had started out just a civilian living near the base, but you had grown quite close to each of the incredible pilots when they were in for training and missions. Of course, you had failed to mention your past—specifically Kellan. But it wasn't very hard to put two and two together.

Glancing back up at Kellan, you swallowed thickly.

The silence in the Hard Deck was unbecoming—deafening, even. But that's not to say it wasn't packed. In fact, people littered the floor, drinking to their heart's content and mingling with their friends, and now, they were pulled into whatever was going on now.

"You're coming back with me," he said. "I can't believe you just left me like that. I come home one night, and everything you own is just... gone. You up and left me." He reached forward, tightly grabbing onto your wrist.

"That's it," Hangman's voice boomed across the room, fighting back his urge to shout obscenities. With heavy footsteps, he came across the two of you. "Let them go."

Bob was not far behind.

Kellan scoffed, rolling his eyes. "And what are you gonna do, fly boy? Rough me up a little bit? They're mine. Unless," Kellan turned his gaze to you, a wicked smile growing on his face. "Did you leave me for this fucker? You are such a whore."

In an instant, Hangman had drawn back his fist. Only seconds remained before his fist collided with the man's jaw, knocking him to the hardwood floor.

Bob had come up beside of you, wrapping a hand around your arm. You looked up at him with wide eyes, immediately clinging on to the man. He pulled you into his arms, keeping you from the brunt of Hangman's warranted anger. You immediately clung to him, but your eyes remained glued to Kellan. Your head rested on his chest as you took a deep, shaky breath.

He scrambled to his feet, spitting blood at Hangman's shoes.

"You bitch," he seethed. "Fucking the whole squad, are you?"

You could feel Bob tense under you. He went to pull away, fingers itching to show the man a piece of his mind, but you quickly stopped him as you grabbed onto his shirt.

"Please," you said, voice barely above a whisper.

He looked down at you, eyebrows furrowed. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, but stayed with you. Hangman would do enough damage on his own.

"No," Hangman scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched the man. "They're just fucking one of us, but I don't really see how that's any of your business, asshole."

"It's my business because they're my bitch," he said, voice laced with what he believed was a threatening growl.

Hangman couldn't help but laugh. This dude was crazy. He couldn't believe they were even having this conversation.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked, grinning widely at the man.

Kellan's eyes narrowed, and he found himself lunging at him. But Kellan had never been very graceful. Hangman stepped to the side, watching as Kellan sputtered to a stop. He pulled his fist back again, prepared to hit him when he heard your voice.

"Hangman, it's not worth it," you quickly said.

Hangman glanced at you, eyes softening. You were a dear friend of his, and even though he wished to beat this douche to a pulp, he'd respect your wishes (but that doesn't mean anyone else would). He looked back at Rooster, and a silent agreement was made. Rooster would take care of it.

Hangman's blood boiled in the confines of his veins. With one glance, he grabbed Kellan by the collar of his shirt and pulled him to the exit.

"If I ever see you around here again, I swear to god I'll kill you," he said, shoving him out the door. Kellan lost his balance, falling down the stairs. The satisfaction was worth it even if Hangman hadn't actually hit him again.

The man straightened out his uniform once more, glancing back at where you stood. Tears streaked your cheeks and your arm was red from where he had grabbed you. With just a few strides, he was by your side.

"You okay, Y/n?"

You gave a small nod, still clinging to Bob.

"Thank you," you said.

Hangman faintly smiled. "I should have stepped in sooner. I couldn't tell what was happenin'," he said. "Why don't... why don't you two head home? You look pretty shaken up, doll."

You frowned deeply, looking up at Bob who seemed to agree.

"I'll drive," Bob said, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I'm... I'm fine. But I think I should tell you what that was about," you said.

"You don't have to," he immediately said. "If that's something you wanna keep to yourself—"

You faintly smiled. "You deserve to know," you said. "You all do. It's... it's time I stop running from my past. Have a fresh start, with all of you."

Bob began to smile, taking ahold of your hand. Hangman went to grab a couple more drinks as Bob pulled you over to the Dagger Squad. Rooster and Coyote were nowhere to be found—Phoenix knew exactly where they had gone, but she said nothing as she pulled you into a tight hug.

"Come on, hon," she said, smiling. "You doin' okay?"

"I'm fine," you said. "Really. I don't know if I've ever been better."

Bob placed a hand on the small of your back. You glanced back at him, unable to keep yourself from smiling.

Just moments before, you wondered if the world you had built up would come crashing down. But you no longer worried about something like that—it was obvious that you had the best people to be around; there was no way your world would crash unless you let it, yourself.

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raviollies · 5 months

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Bad bad moon update!

1.The gang prepped as much as they could for Arameia's wolfing out time but we all know that a werewolf is hard to prepare for. While she was chained and wolfsbane scattered around the perimeter it unfortunately didn't stop her from breaking the chains and advancing on the squad. She lunged at Blythe who was attempting to cast a spell to reign her under control, breaking Raha's glaive in the process

2. Raha attempted to get her off but his strength is very caca in comparison to a 9ft werewolf so he got tossed and hit his head on a rock and just. Got knocked out for the rest of the fight.

3. Lorelai and Eirwen attempted to pull her off as well, and Eirwen thinking holy water might do something to a lycanthrope threw it at them...forgetting that Lorelai is a vampire. Who now has radiant burns on her hands :(

4. Arameia was able to toss them off as well, and in her last effort, through the pain of her hands, Lorelai attempted to wrench her off of Blythe using a horn as leverage. Unfortunately this was the time that Arameia finally failed a saving throw and the....horn broke :)

You'll notice that the horn scene is repurposed from out CoS campaign - we wanted to keep that for Arameia but give that moment a new context, and thought that this would be fitting. It's very traumatic for everyone involved, but for different reasons.

Arameia's loss of a horn now represents how her werewolf nature got the best of her - how she almost hurt several of her friends. That this is something that haunts her and why she has been searching for a cure, and every day without it, this sort of conclusion draws closer.

For Lorelai, it is a stark reminder of her own trauma with her accidental parricide. Of her not knowing her strength and causing much more damage than she intended, disfiguring Arameia when she merely wanted to pull her off. Post this scene, she disassociated due to the PTSD and just ran into the woods.

Arameia regained control due to the pain and managed to find a spot in the corner of the camp to spend the night, apologetic for the damage she caused and hoping Raha is okay, haunted by the fear in Blythe's eyes when looking at her. Eirwen carried Raha to Blythe's carriage and made them some calming tea to deal with Shit and checked up on him due to his head injury.

In the morning, the gang reconvened - Raha is okay but concussed. Lorelai was still MIA but Blythe informed them that Lorelai came back and is just resting in the cabin and it's best to leave her be. It was a very somber moment, but the gang is resolute to stay together. No one blames Arameia for what happened except herself, and no one blames Lorelai for what happened except herself.

Next time is Eirwen's past coming to haunt! Stay tuned (๑ö◡ö)۶

#for some reason the preious post isnt. coming up on the dash.#BUT #arameia #blythe #eirwen #raha #lorelai #I THINK THE SESSION WAS AMAZING. 10/10 #it was the arameia's player first time leading and they did great!!!#also lorelai and arameia pararells....werewolf and vampire...wow this is so 2000s...

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twinsunstars · 1 month

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Thoughts on The Bad Batch Episode 7 - Extraction - A Discussion Post

This episode was full of even more action and a lot more thoughts and theories than the episode before it. Let's dive into the second part!

(SPOILERS IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THE EPISODES YET! all screencaps from www.cap-that.com! https://www.cap-that.com/starwars/the-bad-batch/307/)

Before Episode 6 ended, the clones' base on Teth was attacked, and the CX trooper emerges from the rubble that fell on him, clearly alive and well. He looks around, as there is no one to be found.

Everyone is doing okay, but the rubble blocks their way out. Batcher finds a different way out as they decide to take that way, sticking together to reach a ship they can use to contact Echo.

Wolffe arrives at the base, realizing that there were clones who were attacked. He meets CX-2, asking him what his orders were, who refuses to tell him that. Wolffe makes him follow his orders only, while the CX trooper keeps following his own orders. I've seen posts on the parallels between Tech's limping in Season 2 to how CX-2 was limping here, and I'm living for those parallels to keep the theories going. The CX trooper can't reach his ship after his device was damaged, so he sticks with the others.

Also, I love Clone Commander Hilo already.

The boys and Omega manage to find the ship and get it working to make their escape. Batcher starts licking Nemec, and Omega says, "Don't worry. She only bites half of the time," which was funny. Batcher loves all of the clones around her.

While trying to escape, CX-2 shoots their ship down, making their escape fail. They crash into the jungle.

Wolffe argues with CX-2 after he shot their ship down, and tracks down the crashed ship. CX-2 goes with while they try to continue their efforts to retrieve Omega.

Everyone makes it out of the crash safely, continuing to run. Crosshair checks in on Omega, who gets annoyed by his continuous questions. I love how overprotective he started becoming here. Omega said, "You're as bad as Hunter", and Crosshair said, "Oh, I'm much worse." MY HEART-

Howzer starts to talk to Crosshair calmly after seeing how he interacts with Omega and takes care of her, realizing that he's not the same clone he met on Ryloth anymore. Crosshair opens up about how he feels about loyalty, as that is something he values highly. With the Empire betraying him, there was no way he was going to stay loyal to them.

The Empire locates them, as they fight and protect each other. I loved the way that Wrecker had protected Batcher and Hunter was protecting Omega in this scene. CX-2 attacks them as well, and Crosshair decides to go after him. Omega didn't like that idea, to which he responded, "Too bad."

RIP to Nemec 😭

Crosshair faces off against CX-2 in an aggressive fight, and anyone else getting the Winter Soldier vibes here? CX-2 starts talking to Crosshair, saying, "You had your chance to become one of us. You chose the wrong side." If this is Tech, that's going to hurt so much afterwards. If it's someone else, it's still going to hurt. CX-2 manages to take down Crosshair, but is attacked by the others who saves Crosshair. He falls down the waterfall, left behind.

The Empire catches up to the squad, as Rex finally meets Wolffe face-to-face. Wolffe thought Rex was dead after reading the reports, and he believes in the Empire's cause. Rex tries to tell him that he's making the wrong choice and that clones are being hurt because of them, but Wolffe isn't able to believe anything right now.

Echo arrives with Gregor, as Rex waits for Wolffe to make a choice; either leave the Empire and come with them, or stay. Wolffe decides to stay, and allows the squad to leave safely. Rex looks back on Wolffe, and Gregor looks at the whole scene. They have no idea they're going to be roommates in the near future.

I swear, Wolffe looks so good in today's animation. He watches the clones leave, returning to his own squad. I can't wait until he joins them and realizes his mistakes.

CX-2 emerges from the water after going down the waterfall. Another parallel to Tech, though, who knows. My head kept expecting him to take off his helmet so he could get some air, though I guess it's too early for that still.

Rex looks so tired in the back, and Hunter goes to talk to him. Rex immediately straightens up, acting like everything's fine. (Sir, you need to take a break and let your feelings run through.) Hunter tells him he can't keep running forever, but Rex doesn't want to stop fighting yet. We know he will eventually leading up to Rebels, and I fear what will happen to make him stop.

They both talk about Omega, and Hunter vows that they will keep her safe. Rex tells Hunter they have to find out why the people on Tantiss want her so badly, and the two look at a peacefully sleeping Omega, exhausted from the fighting. She is so precious, we all need to protect her.

We lost good soldiers in both of these episodes, and there's still a whole lot to figure out. Every episode so far in this season is hitting a really good mark, as every single one is so exciting. I can't wait for whatever comes in store in the future, so let's keep the theories going!

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