multifandommilfs

[multifandommilfs]

Hey! Just wanted to say I absolutely adore your writing and would love to see more!Maybe an angsty fic w Andy? R could be a past lover, or a mishap in battle causes them to lose immortality. Could be a sad ending, up to you ofc!

After a long long time. Here it is!

I want to thank you for being my first ever ask, and for being so patient with me <3

[multifandommilfs]

If only I loved you with my eyes; rather than my mind

Pairing: Andy x reader

Wc: 1340

A/n: i wanna thank @skwldy for their prompt! Without them this fic probably won't exist. I probably took too long to write this so I hope you can pardon me 👉👈

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"The night is still young!" Was the common phrase amongst mortals. You always thought you understood what that meant and thought it would be amplified ever since you lost your immortality to the unknown.

What a load of bullshit.

Now the nights were drowsy and the mornings flashed past in a blur. The sequence was all the same; wake up, try not to get stabbed, hit the sack.

Unfortunately, you still found yourself in battles (or battles found you). So pain was rife and so intolerable that sometimes death sounded enticing. You had never told anyone about it but you were sure they saw it on your face. The agony, the exhaustion. They wouldn't understand anyway.

So the only solace you found was the riverbank near the safehouse. It was shrouded by a stream of bluebells and cattails. During the nights when wounds from your battles intensified, you always found yourself sitting at the edge of the river with your legs dipped halfway into the cooling water. It was a moment to finally breathe and to let up the tough front.

On most nights, you and the flowers became one until the sun rose in all its glory and woke you up warmly. But tonight was not most nights, tonight the darkness gave way to the bulbs of fireflies, and the silence gave way to rustles.

You turned, squinting to make out the approaching figure. The silhouette was tall and slender, clad in jeans and a tank top. It took only a second for a smile to push up your lips in recognition.

"How come i never knew there were flowers here?" Andy said, the tips of her fingers slipping from petal to petal as her hips bumped cattails to form a little trail.

"Because they weren't here in the first place. Not until the past few weeks anyway. The fireflies too, I've never seen them until tonight. It's probably all the water I brought to land or something. Made the place more fertile than it was." As proof, your legs swung up onto the riverbank, seeing the dirt immediately soaking up the puddle of water that formed beneath your feet.

"And here I thought we were done playing god."

"And here I thought you believed in no god."

She shrugged, settling down beside you. "How am I supposed to reason..." She shook her head, unwilling to utter her thoughts, as if keeping it in would make the whole situation less real. Her heavy eyes met yours in the silence, conveying her grief without a word.

The sight sent a pang of pain straight to your heart. Your jaw clenched, eyes slipping to your lap. Of all the pain you've felt since you turned mortal, hers was the most gut-wrenching one. Tears pressed behind your eyes, but you willed them not to fall this time, not now, not tonight, not when she was right here by your side.

So you forced a smile instead, "I don't know, I guess the world just has plans. Or maybe whoever's up there just so happened to cancel the wrong subscription."

The joke fell flat. She didn't laugh, she didn't even smile. Your brows pulled together as worry built in your chest. "What's wrong?" Your hands reached out instinctively to comfort her but she slapped them away, tears reflecting off her eyes.

"How can you take this so lightly, act like everything's fine when it's so far from that? Do you think I don't notice when you sneak out in the middle of the night? You're in so much pain you can't sleep anymore. Why are you trying so hard to hide it from us? Nicky, Joe, Booker, we are all- we're all so worried." She took your hand in hers, wanting to close the distance. "моя любовь (my love), do you hear me?"

The way her eyes darted in uncertainty was heartbreaking. You shook your head helplessly, retracting your hand. "I can't bear it- " you cried out, stumbling to your feet.

"What are you talking about?" She clambered up, her hands closing around nothing when she reached for you. Her lower lip quivered at the emptiness, tears breaking down her cheeks.

"I have to leave. I want to leave. I can't bear seeing you like this." Your hands gesticulated in fraught.

"What are you talking about?!" Her voice rose, trembling. The realisation was creeping in but she didn't want to believe it. Around you, the fireflies swarmed anxiously, the glow petering out.

Breath ragged, she was petrified, dreading every word that came to exist within the space between the both of you.

An unwanted sob fled your lips, you shook your head, dashing away. Your legs cut through the (small) meadow, the safehouse growing blurry as tears spilled down your face. Hot on your tail, you could hear her confusion as she pleaded for reason.

It was all too late for you anyway. Death was out there somewhere and you'd better find it first before it finds you.

The door to the church slammed open. Your gasps and sobs loud against the quiet. You rushed to the bedroom, pulling out clothes, guns, ammo, anything you deemed necessary and shoving them into the duffel bag. Around you, the rest of the team were clamouring, firing questions but you were only shaking your head, wiping away the wetness and mucus from your face.

The closing zip was galvanising. You moved with conviction despite doubt crawling up your spine. But Booker was faster, his body blocking the expanse of the door. You held his gaze. "Let me through, Booker."

"I can't do that. We're a team, remember?"

"No, we're not, I'm going to die and you won't. Do you know what grief will do to you, to Andy? It's been five hundred years since Quynh, Booker. "

Behind him, Andy's feet slowed to a stop. She could finally breathe, but the relief didn't last because Booker slid away and you took the chance, tearing through them and into the open.

In flashes of your figure, she grabbed your bag on instinct, stopping you. "Let me go." You grind out, her grip turned white and yet you still tugged your bag fruitlessly.

"You think I can't handle another death." She stated.

"No, you can't handle mine. I'm the death of you, you know that."

Her grip fastened. A gun brandished, you put the nozzle above your beating heart, finger on the trigger.

Just as you expected, her shoulders tensed as life flashed before her eyes. The only reason she hasn't knocked the weapon out of your hands is because she knew you wouldn't do it. Yet the possibility alone was threatening enough.

The silence was tremendous as you faced her glare. So hateful, so betrayed. You needed to remind yourself that it was for the best; to love was to lose. Then again, the course of true love never did run smooth.

_________

On May 10th of 1940, twelve decades after you left, the Charlie safehouse became the only untouched spot from German troops, but the team had long evacuated France and the whole of Europe to avoid the war.

It wasn't until they retrieved the new immortal that they returned to the safehouse again.

Came nighttime, Andy lingered by the graveyard that was once a lapping river. A wilted stalk between her fingers, it only felt like yesterday when bluebells and cattails brushed her skin, tickling and leaving soft odours. Her head angled up, eyes seeking the high moon that overlooked life below, wishing for the knowledge of your whereabouts.

Far away, she heard the creak of the church door, the interior light spilling out into the darkness. Nile wandered out. "Can't sleep?"

Andy hummed in response, twirling the stalk again but this time it disintegrated beneath the pads of her fingers, falling to the ground below.

"You okay?" Nile joined her side.

"Yeah," she wiped her hands against her jeans, getting ready to leave. "I guess I was just expecting to see some fireflies."

[multifandommilfs]

Flying for the death of it

Pairing: Andy x Reader

Wc: 850

Summary: you were bored out of your minds, so why not jump off a plane?

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You were so bored.

6000 years on Earth meant you and Andy had seen everything there was to see. Nothing surprised you anymore, nothing excited you anymore. What more could life offer other than death?

Turns out, a lot more when you're about to jump out an aircraft.

You wavered by the open door as vicious gusts of wind threatened to knock you off balance and throw you back onto earth. You weren't going to lie, this was petrifying. Heart-in-your-throat petrifying.

"This is such a great idea." Just as you said it, another gust out wind hit you in the face, your hands shoot out to grip the rim of the door, swallowing a scream. Your heart had dropped so low you didn't even know where it was anymore.

"Exactly!" Andy replied over the raging wind, but you knew from her cheeky grin that she was deliberately ignoring your sarcasm. "What, you scared?" She teased, elbowing your side.

You glanced downward, a cloud passed just for bits and pieces of a city to appear. The ground was so. far. below. And absolutely rock. solid.

You definitely understood Nile's outrage now when she was first recruited. Jumping out a plane was absolute insanity, even for someone who presumably can't die, at least not for the past millennium anyway.

You gulped, turning to her "Andy I love you but I'm not doing this."

"You're right, we are doing this."

"Why?! This is crazy!"

"Because we're so fucking old, so fucking bored, and so fucking immortal!"

"That's literally the worst excuse ever." You tried to weasel back into the plane but her arm encircled your waist to keep you in place, which was conveniently next to the ledge of death. Your knees were going weak and a sweat peppered your hairline.

Knowing this, her eyes found yours, grounding you to nothing but the aircraft. But by the way your gaze flicked to the head of the plane, she knew you were contemplating to order Andrei to land the plane right this instant.

Every second that passed was a step closer to returning to your mundane lives. One that stemmed from a gap year away from missions. As much as you liked the domesticity, boredom was slowly but surely seeping into your lives.

Seven months in, Andy found herself tearing her hair out watching you run from anything and everything that potentially posed as a risk while you were doing the same watching her chug all the vodka in the world. Seriously, she chugged vodka like liver cirrhosis wasn't a thing.

You both had become the living conundrums to your predicaments and something desperately needed to change.

"You'll love this." Andy said, persistent in her cajole. She tilted her head a little too add effect.

"It is, and would be a far fetch from how much more I'll love you if you don't let me do this." You pleaded but she shook her head adamantly.

"You'll fucking love this."

Before you could even retort, she yanked you close, skin to skin, whirled back against empty space and leant. All while the smile that graced her lips widened without a falter, not even a little bit.

And with that, you were zipping through the atmosphere. The wind so loud in your ear you couldn't hear yourself scream, only hearing her roar of laughter through vibrations where your bodies met.

And then like courting eagles, you were sprialling through the air in each others arms. Time slowed and within all inconstant things, there she was– your companion since the beginning till the end. You were enraptured once more, for the thousandth time.

Glitters of life sparkled in her irises as the both of you sunk through a fluffy cloud then into a flock of migrating geese.

As if knowing their cue, they parted around you like a stream parting for rocks. It was almost surreal, magical; a scene out of the movies.

It had your breath lodged in your throat and butterflies blooming in your stomach for the first time in a millennia. Pelting down to earth, you were reminded of what it was like to be alive, to be surrounded and loved by life. In that moment, the fear of being captured or persecuted never existed. It was you, her, the geese, and the world. And by gods, was it freeing.

Andy sensed the significance of the moment too, for in the next miraculous second, against all gravity, she surged up just enough to capture your lips between hers.

You gasped, eyes fluttering shut, nerves tingling. Your hands flew to her neck to bridge all gap so you could kiss her devouringly as if it was the first and last time you'd ever kiss her. In that span of time, you let her steal your breath more than death ever could. And made a vow that it would stay that way.

Time resumed, your bodies barreling down towards earth at such a speed that all of mankind would never get to experience themselves, let alone plummeting to a sure death whilst kissing the love of their life.

[multifandommilfs]

How now, my love, why is your cheek so pale? (Pt 1)

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Pairing: Discord x reader

Wc: 2000+

Part 1/ two or three chapters!

The timeline is possibly not canon as usual....

And angst! Bc I wanted to suffer :) (and suffer I did)

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"Well, what if she'd been lonely for so long and seeing us like this– like a family. What if she's trying to get back at the world?"

"By trying to erase our existence?" Nile scoffed at Nicky's empathy, leaning back into her chair with crossed hands.

And so the debate continued around the dinner table, one party trying to reason Discord's ridiculous plans, another party disagreeing. Joe was just the fence in their row, murmuring unwarranted 'yeah's to both sides while you accompanied Andy on the sofa, peeling bandages off scars and dressing new wounds.

"You're never gonna tell them are you?" She kept her voice low, just above the tearing of bandage.

"What's there to tell?" You muttered, inspecting the blood-red nicks that littered her arm. By the looks of it, it was most likely from when she threw that man out the window. Your fingers circled the flushed area around it as a little warning to the nervous system. Throughout your days of dressing wounds during the war, you've found that this 'warming up' ritual helped a lot with pains.

"These doesn't look so bad as the ones last week. At least there aren't any glass pieces." You said as you double-checked the tiny openings of skin. At the corner of your eye, Andy cringed.

"In the nicest way possible, please shut up." She held her free hand out as you choked back a laugh. "Noted."

You continued massaging the flushed skin as a sensory distraction while your another hand applied a layer of ointment onto the cuts.

Momentarily, you felt her eyes on you as you worked. It gave way to an unwelcoming and made you overtly self-conscious of every stroke you delivered. You knew that it had nothing to do with you and everything to do with curiosity, but having someone looming over you was still an unshakeable anxiety. You tried to redirect your focus back into the wound but when a laugh erupted-

Your hand jerked against red, Andy hissed. "Oh fuck, I'm sorry."

"It's okay." She said, but you weren't. Not as okay as you were put on the outside, for you just forced a smile as if it was a common mistake and kept on going, all knowing that it wasn't a common mistake because you were trained to filter out all the internal and external noise as a medic. Focus was necessary but a clear mind was compulsory. And lately, with the (not so) newfound immortals, you were losing your grasp on both.

Drowned by silence to keep your secret, you hardly spoke anything else as you did the final touches to the wound. All ears turned to the debate-turned-standup comedy in the dining area.

"So are you with Nile, Nicky or Joe?" She asked you at last as you tidied up the lounge area. "Hm, romantically or platonically? Because if you're referring to the latter..." You shared a laugh with her.

"You know what I mean." She slapped you playfully.

"I don't know, Tuah is kind, and Quynh, god forbid I speak a bad word about her, Discord is...formidable."

"Formidable?"

"Yeah, a force to be reckoned with, 'slay' or millennials say nowadays." You tried to joke again but this time Andy wasn't so accepting.

"She's trying to wipe us off the face of the earth."

"Is what Nile's been telling us, we haven't seen anything come from her directly. Not any threats, not any kidnapping. In fact she did the opposite and retrieved Quynh. I don't know...that doesn't really radiate killer vibes to me."

"Then I think we know where you're established." She bit out.

You clenched your jaw, holding in a temper, holding in your words, holding in the secret.

"Ciao!" Joe hollered, effectively splintering the building tension. He guided a tipsy Nicky in the direction of the bedroom. "We're going to bed." Joe tapped your shoulder and you gave him a smile, no matter how fixed it was. "Yeah don't hog all the blankets! There's three more of us here!"

"Goodnight!" Joe guffawed.

You turned back to the dining space, now only occupied by Nile who downed another shot. "Wanna join me?" She gestured to the empty seats. Her offer was enticing, one drink to forget about all your worries. But the possibility of blabbering frightened you.

"I think I'll retire for tonight!" She thumbed up your response before her head lolled back as she sank into her chair.

Just as you moved, Andy caught your wrist. "Haven't answered my question."

"What was it?"

"You ever gonna tell them?" You shared a look, hers concerned, yours...hesitation, nervousness, uncertainty. It felt as though your insides were in knots of contradictions that you couldn't untangle. One reprimanding you from keeping a secret from your family, one encouraging you by means of an oath.

A pause, you swallowed down all her offer to confess before the words left your lips. "What's there to tell?" Her grip loosened, and in her eyes appeared a glimmer of disappointment. You turned and in a controlled gait, ambled towards the bedroom, even though all you wanted to do was run.

...

There was no moonlight tonight, no chirping cicadas. It made it all the more harder to slip out from the safehouse. It was almost as if the world was mocking your efforts.

Here you were, in France, the country of Romance, they called it, but all you've seen is death, lies and more death.

The grandfather clock had struck midnight hours ago. And you've passed the point where Nicky snored and Joe sleep-talked. You even retained your sliver of consciousness as Nile headed out for water, twice, and for Andy to go from sleeping in a dead man's position to curling up like an escargot in its shell, all because she insisted she didn't need blankets and gave them to Nile. Those same blankets which are now bunched up at the foot of the bed due to all the warmth liquor generates.

So after draping your blanket on Andy, you checked the time– 4:05, the perfect time for deep sleep, and twisted your way out the room and out of the house.

The wind tonight was much breezy than usual, its cooling nature turning to a burn underneath your flesh. You quickened your pace, hands hugging yourself, cautious with surroundings and even more cautious with stumbling mortals. Getting mugged is just far worse than getting stabbed.

Just then, you heard another set of footsteps behind you, it was fainter, stealthier. You whirled, adrenaline prompting waves of goosebumps on your skin. But there was no one, only the ghost of your paranoia perhaps, but the uneasiness settled in nevertheless.

After paths of pebbled street, you were finally standing in front of the cobblestone residence. You remembered when it once boasted an elegantly slanted roof finished with little beautiful chimney, seasonally dressed up with glimmers of holiday lights. Now, the roof was giving way and the chimney crumbling. It was a bare construction with contemporary edits such as the power box that stood out in the corner.

You pushed in, teeth chattering from the cold. You climbed up the stairs and into the small hole in the wall.

"And here I thought you wouldn't turn up." The familiar voice resounded throughout. The lamp in the corner clicked on and the bodiless voice solidified.

"Well, you thought wrong, Discord." You said, "Any drinks? Or you'll have to set me up on a stake here, I'm freezing to death."

She chuckled at your antics before raising a bottle of wine. It slid across the table. She resumed her idle by the counter. The space made her regal, like a lounging leopard, all observation without a crack in vulnerability.

Your hands snatched up the liquor, desperate for the burn, "Haven't poisoned it, have you?"

"Enough with the jokes." It was neither a request nor a command, just her way of bantering. Familiar territory, you shrugged with a light smile. "You live for it."

She glared, one which you dismissed so casually, it could've been noted as a look of affection. And in a way, it was. Having never been understood by another person was an absymal fear factor for Discord, and ironically, you understood even that.

A beat passed, comfortably noiseless. Her eyes softened with every second it lingered on you, even if you were just downing the bottle. She wouldn't admit it, but she longed for this, for this reunion, for this intimacy. Her hands were aching to reach out, body missing the warmth of another being, not just the one derived from vodka or wine.

When she snapped out of her headspace, a gush of horror emptied her out.

You were returning her gaze, your eyeline level with hers, with the same tenderness, the same longing. She dared not blink, for fear that it would all vanish. And as your tongue poked out to wet your lips, air washed out of her lungs.

This was the warmth of another being enveloping her, devouring her. She felt the hotness on her cheeks and the ache in the depths of her stomach. However intense it was, her only craving to be buried in gentleness.

She pushed forth from the counter and without resistance, her body did the rest for her. You met her in the middle of the house. The moment your hands touched her face, her eyelids slipped shut, wanting to savour the moment forever: the warmth of another in centuries.

Silent tears ran down her cheeks as you held her. Her head bowed, meeting yours, the tip of your noses briefly grazing.

In that miniscule breadth of space, lips met. Vodka to wine. Your arms pulled her in closer, letting her steal your breath again as you did hers. Her hands grasped your hips, not really moving, just having you close, as close as you could be in three thousand years or more.

....

The lamp swayed above the dining table gloomily, casting a dim light. But it was hardly needed, for the morning sun had come up and stretched up floor to the walls.

You had sat at on the couch, on the bed, on the counter as night broke into dawn. Your conversations had traversed the house and seeped between wooden planks of the floor, it was history now with this house.

At last, you ended up where you first started, at the dining table. Except now, Discord was beside you with equal parts of wine.

Through the windowpanes, the sunlight cast a golden hue around her, rendering her completely ethereal as she sipped on wine. A peek of her bare shoulder had turned golden, made devastatingly alluring with a trail of freckles.

She caught you shamelessly in the act. "Keep your eyes to yourself." She chastised, but there was no denying the rose gold flush on her cheeks.

"When there's such a magnificent view? Not a chance."

"Oh," she rolled her eyes and you settled into silence again. But before long, her hand reached for yours. When your eyes met again, the happiness had passed in hers. "Stay with me." It was an earnest plea. Her grasp tightened.

"I..." The words were stuck in your throat, you didn't know how to respond. You were on both sides of the opposite team, but unlike Joe, you knew that 'yeah' wasn't an option anymore.

Your head shook first, you couldn't trust your words when all you wanted to do was to say 'yes'. But you couldn't just leave your family, especially not when Andy lost her immortality.

Her hand retracted to hide beneath the table. "Right." Her voice frayed at the edges. She nodded fervently to pretend that she understood, that she accepted having to let you go again. But she didn't understand, and she couldn't bring herself to accept the solitude.

"But if-" you started and her eyes snapped up in the miniscule semblance of hope. "I think if we tell people about you, about us. Well, they know you already, just not...us."

"No. You keep our oath, just like Andromache has kept Tuah's. I cannot risk- no" her hand waved in dismissal. "Leave. Leave now. We were never here."

"Discord- " you tried to reach out for her, but she slapped your hand away.

"Leave!" She snarled, unsheathing a loaded gun.

"Well shoot me then-"

The gun fired. The bullet lodged straight into your heart. In seconds, the wound started healing. But it was more than that, tears welled, you scoffed bitterly. "Fine." And you were out the door with a slam, pocketing the bullet that was ejected from your body.

When you reached the street, tears were falling from your eyes. You turned up just to see that once sun-kissed window to the house shattering into a rain of shards. And what was left in its wake was that same forsaken gun lying on the ground. Abandoned from anguish.

[multifandommilfs]

TOG2 was such a shit show

Anyway... time to write about Uma Thurman as Discord

[multifandommilfs]

Since you, who am I?

Pairing: Bradley Jackson /Laura Peterson

Wc: 1800+

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It was ear splitting how the vase shattered on the floor. Bits and pieces of glass cutting across the hallway.

Bradley was, for a moment, shocked at her own behaviour as she would be after an outburst that involved screaming matches and breaking things. It seemed like something that ran in the family at this point, acting foolishly in the heat of the moment.

She looked up at Laura, saw the composed woman standing tall between all the glass pieces despite the flicker of shock that flitted across her features a second before. It was all blanked out now, only a wrinkle of her lip left.

(- go live in your delusional word! -)

(- I'm not repressed! -)

She still heard the ghostly echo of her voice before she took the nearest breakable item and smashed it to the ground. How ironic.

I'm sorry Bradley wanted to say but the words were so familiarized in her mouth lately it just seemed like a filler devoid of any meaning. I'm sorry for blabbering on live television. I'm sorry for being insensitive. I'm sorry for being unfiltered. I'm sorry never carried any consequences anymore.

But through the piercing gaze of the woman opposite her, a cup clasped gently within her deft digits, Bradley realised that there were consequences this time, tremendous or not. "You'll have to pay for that." Laura said cooly, biting back anger at her destroyed vase. It had cost her a whole few thousand which she won at an auction in the 1980s.

"Well you better start a tab, cause I'm gonna be breaking a lot of shit around here. I'm not repressed." Bradley snapped back, as if to prove a point that all those fixedly shaped objects exploding into shards were called freedom. But honestly, Bradley knew she just wasn't in the right headspace as she said it.

Laura placed her mug on the counter nearby as if to wordlessly counter what Bradley had said. "I guess you'll have to find some other women's vases to break then." There was a flurry of hurt in her voice, anguish present in her eyes as she let the words, as cold as they may be, leave her lips. But it was needed, to protect herself from people like that, people who cared about themselves only, people who were hotheaded. She was over having her life ruined by caring for others without any reciprocity.

"Fine, I'll start now." Bradley stomped out, balled fists flinging stoicly at her sides as she left the apartment in a slam.

The house was left uncomfortably silent. The whistle of the evening wind sounded shrill, laughter down the hallway could be heard as if it were only outside her door. She moved tentatively, and the glass pieces that crumbled beneath her heel were apparent. She contemplated leaving the mess there for when Bradley returned, but her comment replayed in her mind.

(- I guess you'll have to find some other women's vases to break then. -)

And realised that it was another half assed relationship on her part. On Bradley's perhaps. Her self-deprecation seemed to drown out what her therapists preached: not your fault, leave the people who cause you chaos, cut them out... but in those just a few days, such a person had made every conversation a gliding bird, effortless, easy. It was a trait scarce in the journalism industry where each word was spitting fire and throwing daggers to battle up the ranks.

Damn it, she didn't want to think about Bradley now, perhaps it would take a few hours, a few days, but what if... The shadow of the thought made her heart clench, an ache so akin to guilt was gnawing away at her chest.

She averted her attention to picking up the broken vase. As she did, she realised that she did not truly want to discard of them. Instead, she would find a way to make it into some sort of artwork to preserve the sentiment it carried, like trying to piece back her past self she saw in Bradley. She was trying to heal that part of her that was rejected and made pariah by society.

But this realisation came too late as she burst out of the apartment complex to see no Bradley, only greeted by the lonesome curl of the autumn wind, the melancholic twinkle of stars.

It ladened her feet, and with her back sore from picking up the glass, head dizzy with freight trains of both self-doubt and therapist preaches, comfort found her as she stood on the top of the stairs. Just breathing, letting the night air wash away tonight, just breathing.

______

Bradley was hysterical. She had half a mind to walk home if it weren't for the vicious cold wind that kept biting at her ankles.

In another metre, she slipped into a dimly lit coffee shop as a refuge, cursing at the weather. Warmth was filling in quickly, and soon she was whispering curse words at her coat that was a bitch to untie.

The expression on the waitresses face did no good as they sent her annoyed glances, no doubt that they had already wiped the kitchen spotless just for her to barge in 10 minutes to closing time.

"I just need a seat. God, my feet are killing me!" The explanation soothed the furrows on the waitresses face as they nodded understandingly, muttering something of "thank god" to themselves. So off Bradley went, plopping down at the window seat with a heavy sigh.

She could've taken the armchair at the back of the coffee shop, but honestly? she wasn't in the mood to feel more miserable than she already was, sitting in the dark corner, devoid of any human and in the wrath of the waitresses who were silently begging her to leave.

8 minutes to closing.

She watched an old couple loiter about, laughter sleeping into their wrinkles that were highlighted by the street lamp. The wife's scarf was billowing with the breeze, untangling in itself.

Then another breeze, the plants that decorated her peripheral slapped against the window pane for a second, obscuring the couple. And as it returned, the scarf had flew off the woman's neck, tumbling down the street.

(Get it before- ) Bradley rushed internally, it looked to be worn over by time, no doubt carrying comfort.

The leaves ruffled violently again, though softer than the last. Bradley's eyes widened in anticipation, heart dropping to her stomach. The scarf blew upwards, and oh, tragedy struck! It tangled up amongst the madness that was tree branches.

Her irises moved back to the couple, expecting them to feel what she felt. She was caught off guard when laughter was still on her lips, and they pointed at the dangling scarf with mirth in their eyes, as if nothing about it mattered as they strolled away.

Something clicked in her, it's like she finally gained consciousness after the altercation with Laura. She cared too much about the littlest of things, like to prove her point that she wasn't repressed which admittedly, only made it clear that she WAS repressed, and worse of all, delusional at the same time.

So as the overhead lights darkened more than before, she found her feet picking up their pace again, light in her heart as she dashed off in the direction of Laura's apartment, the chill that once bit her ankle turned into a nip.

______

The click clacks on the pavement slowed in frequency.

The race in Bradley's heart was now for a completely different reason as she dreaded the conversation that was about to arise. She swallowed a knot in her throat. Whispering under her breath. "Stop being such a pussy! Stop being such a pussy!"

And for the first time in a long time, she felt a strange mutation of fear. Not the angry 'im gonna break everything and scream' fear: fear of her brother's life, fear of her mother's wrath when she was a child, fear of others judgement; but it was a fear so soft, yet so invading, maybe you treat it like a joke until it spread throughout your body sort of fear. And it was the fear of losing Laura.

She stood outside the apartment complex with that 300 dollar gift card hanging on her arm. A tenant climbed up the stairs, directly surveying her before he buzzed in and quickly shut the door.

She swayed a little on her heels, feeling the fear that was so difficult to embrace. Whoever invented the phrase 'do it scared' certainly never felt this paralysing fear. Her bottom lip was sensitive from the constant chewing.

Her hand raised up, ghosting the button to Laura's unit. "No," she whispered and retracted her hand. "Stop being such a pussy!" She countered herself.

She was finally snapped out of her reverie when the door clicked open and oh, she could've fainted at how suddenly her heart lurched up.

Laura was face-to-face with her, reeling from surprise as well.

"Hey." Bradley said softly, the tone stranger even to her own ears. Something sparked as quickly as it died down in Laura's eyes as she assessed the new situation without a word, giving Bradley a chance to speak.

"I know I have a lot of nerve showing up here." Her voice trembling, knees weak. She had lost all of her words somehow, she felt as if she didn't know herself. So with Laura's silence, nothing was uttered between the both of them for a while. The slightest lift of Laura's brow at the bag made Bradley come back to her senses.

"I- I got you this. It's a gift card. $300. I dont- I know I'm a total pain in the ass, but I just- I want to tell you that because I wanted you to know that I know that I am." Bradley believed it was a horrible mix of words and feeling at the end of it even though the woman opposite her seemed to be taking in everything without a problem, even the apology bag.

The hesitance to accept Bradley's apology however, was prominent on Laura's features as she whirled away wordlessly, beginning to open to the complex's front door. There was a rush of building fear in Bradley's nerves, and with support from freezing wind, it was all she needed to fling herself into Laura's space, arms wallowing the figure so much with all she could.

"Please, please." She didn't want to care to hold spite against everyone and every little thing anymore. She wanted peace, she wanted peace with Laura, to live like the old couple who laughed at the scarf.

And as she felt the familiar warmth of Laura's palm on her back, seeping through layers of her coat and clothes. She could see the light in the future, and how she wouldn't be the person who worried about the scarf anymore.

[multifandommilfs]

Our Last Hundred Years

Pairing: Andy x reader

Wc: 2377

Angst, fluff ps sorry Nile

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It had been long since Andy took off to the pharmacy, way too long. It caused worry to brew in your chest. It was usually after a battle that Andy would stay as close as possible to the team to check in on everyone time and time again. Damn it, you buried your face in your palms, paranoia gnawing at the pit of your stomach. What if another wave of army storms in right now? You grit your teeth in frustration, forcing your mind to listen to Nile and Booker's faint conversation. 

 

The door to the old mine creaked open, natural light pouring in. You leapt up instantaneously, giving your teammates an open palm telling them to wait. One step, two steps, you made sure your gait was light as you unsheathed a knife. Yeah, it could very well be Andy, but at this point, you weren't ready to take any risks. 

 

The door to the open space was a narrow flight of stairs and a blind spot just off to the sight where you hid. Thump, thump, thump came in quick succession. In the darkness, your heart sped, the grip on your blade tightened. 

 

The brown coat was what you saw first which was enough to make you launch at her, encasing her in an embrace with relief. She yelped at the blitz attack, body tensing when your arms wrapped around her neck. "Ow shit." She swore softly when your elbows hit her shoulder and you pulled back quickly. Ow? You hadn't heard that since forever. 

 

"Hey, I'm taking Andy out! Just outside!" You hollered while scrutinizing the woman before you. 

 

"Sounds like a bad date!" A round of snickers came from them, and you rolled your eyes. "Says the person who doesn't have a date." 

 

"Ooh! Burnt!" Nile said, but you were dragging Andy upstairs by her arm, hearing her sharp inhalation was more concerning than her absence. Though it might be undetected when it came to others, you had been with her since the birth of everything, you knew her, you could have her tell you what she held back with a look. That's why your glance at her wasn't returned.

 

You chose a shrouded spot where greenery thrived. 

 

"You have something to tell me." You said with arms akimbo, but let your features remain lax, so she wouldn't feel so asphyxiated by your demand. Nevertheless, she chewed on her lower lip, eyes meeting yours momentarily before they darted back to the grassy ground. She couldn't tell you about it. 

 

You let out a breath, dropping your hands from your waist. "Andy..." Your fingers tipped her chin up softly, her gaze remained everywhere but you. "Look at me please?" You manoeuvred into her line of sight, luring her eyes to you. It was then that you noticed a sheen of tears gleaming in her irises, the downcast of her lips. "I'm worried, I have been worried, will you please tell me what's wrong?" 

 

She let out a bitter laugh, brows furrowing as the tears thickened, threatening to fall. You had always been her weakness and her strength, but most importantly, you were the one she trusted to ravage her mind after Qunyh. 

 

She had to tell you but her lower lip wobbled in fear even when she was mentally preparing herself. A glance to the entrance of the old mine and around it proved that there were no traces of eavesdroppers, so her gaze trailed back to you. 

 

"I went to get medicine for my wounds." She winced at how indirect she was being but you were listening intently. 

 

"What are you saying?" 

 

"My wounds, i- they-" She squeezed her eyes shut. How could something she had desired for so long become something so dreadful? "They won't heal." Her voice turned into a whisper because even she couldn't believe the fact. Six thousand years she lived, and suddenly her immortality was stripped away by the stab of a knife. 

 

When she peeled open her eyelids, she was met with a deep furrow cutting in between your brows. "T- that's ridiculous, no, no, that's not supposed to happen, Andy, are you sure you're not misreading it?" 

 

"I'm sure." She saw how tears prickled your eyes, with red rims already forming around your eyes.

 

"Let me see it." You said firmly and scuffed your foot as if you were losing balance. Before she could even reply, you tore the coat off her shoulder, immediately sensing the faint scent of metallic. Your eyes were next to see the damage, red seeping out of the fresh bandage. 

 

"Okay?" She asked, shrugging the coat back up as you staggered back in disbelief. 

 

"No." Your exhale was shaky, and your knees dropped you onto the ground. Six thousand years together and you were left with less than a hundred with her. It was laughable but your mind could only connect to the newest member of the team. Shit has been falling ever since her arrival. 

 

"Is it the girl? Is it Nile? It was yesterday- yesterday when she really accepted herself and today- " Tears gathered in your eyes as you dared a look at her.

 

"I don't know, darling." Her arms wrapped tightly around her midriff. She paused before her eyes drew to you. "We'll figure it out." 

 

"It's her and you know it! Ever since she came, shit's been going down the fucking hill!" Your voice rose, and Andy glanced at the basement door in nervousness. "Stop it!" She hissed.

 

"She's leaving." Your demand made Andy's gaze flit to you in shock. "No, that's- she has nowhere to turn to, y/n!" Her voice turned into a yell because you were slamming the door open to the mine, heading straight for Nile with Andy on your tail, shouting something. But you were mad, heart pounding, seeing red, mad. 

 

In a quick motion, you dragged the girl up by her shoulders, slamming her against the wall and yelling something you couldn't hear yourself say. All you could remember was Andy telling you, "It won't heal," and the look in her eyes: fright. It was enough to kick up your defence. 

 

"You did this! You did this!" The words mustn't be yours, your voice was never that raw.

 

Then you were flying back too fast for your legs to catch up. There was pressure around your shoulders. A sharp pain jabbed the crook of your knee and you kneeled. Andy held you in a vice grip on the ground as you thrashed until you ran out of strength. With wetness on your face, you sobbed as Andy hoisted you into her lap. 

 

"I can't live without you, I don't know how to live without you." You pushed your face into the crook of her neck, breathing raggedly. 

 

"You'll live-" she started softly but you cut her off. "I'll exist! I- I don't live without y- you. I won't have a fucking life, I won't have anything, I can't d-do anything!" Your hands gripped her coat. It was an old coat you got for her, it was one of the first coats that were made, but it was still too new to preserve the memory of Andy when you had thousands of years left to live. 

 

Booker could only comfort Nile and stare at the both of you. He was never really a witness to your emotions, having avoided them after he left his family. But here Andy was whispering something in your ear as you held on as if your life were vanishing before your eyes. 

 

The following weeks were never the same, even after the 'experiment for the greater good fiasco', and Booker's hundred year excommunication. You were pulling Andy out of Nile's proximity in hopes that she'd regain her immortality. Joe and Nicky were well-informed of your feud with Nile. They were all adamant it would blow over, but there came a day when enough was enough. 

 

Today was that day. 

 

"You've got to stop this." Nicky leant against the kitchen counter, a small smile on his lips as you busied yourself with dinner. 

 

You made no sound, moving from the stew to put dirty dishes into the sink. "Am I getting the silent treatment too?" Nicky spun you over by your waist when you passed him so that you couldn't avoid him anymore. 

 

You huffed. "You want me to stop cooking? Fine, you take over." You shoved a ladle in his hands, but he crushed you into a hug. "You shouldn't hurt others because you're hurting." 

 

Your fingers balled up his shirt as your chin adjusted to a more comfortable position. He swayed a little, arms tied around your waist. "It isn't Nile's fault that Andy is now a mortal." 

 

"It is, I think it is. You would do the same if it were Joe." 

 

"For a while, yes, I would presume. But you cannot create an answer to an unanswerable question. Nile is not the answer y/n. There is no answer to why we lose our immortality." 

 

He heard you sniffle. "The stew is boiling." You pulled away slowly, putting out the flame and moving to wash the dirty dishes.

 

"Okay?" He asked when he joined you, pulling you in to kiss your cheek before taking his fair share of dishes. You looked at him, teary-eyed, letting yourself work automatically. "What happens if I don't know? Andy, she's out there right now, with Nile and Joe, and-" you grabbed the kitchen knife, slathering it with dish soap.

 

 "And- I can't function. It's not like I will die but how do you function with the knowledge that you'll lose everything in the next few decades? Not even a century, just five or six decades and she'll-" The blade slipped, cutting your finger as you hissed in pain, garnering Nicky's attention to your wound. Blood seeped out of it, a sight you've seen a thousand times.

 

Just then, the house bustled with energy as they barged in. Andy and Nile laughing at Joe's joke as they dumped groceries onto the table. Your attention was diverted, and the pain subsided when you had to catch rolling apples and oranges before they hit the ground from the toppled paper bags. 

 

"Watch your head." Andy said softly, resting her hand on the edge of the table when you ducked out from beneath the table. 

 

And you had to savour her affections when there was not enough time to accept them absentmindedly. She saw the exhaustion on your features, the worry that was wordlessly telling her to stop caring about you so that you wouldn't have to miss her that much. 

 

Frustration built up in her, she wanted to care with the time she had left. "Come here for a second?" She requested. 

 

You wasted no time in avoiding her, heading in Nile's direction. God knows you owed her some clarity even if you didn't forgive her. 

 

It was a split second touch, Andy's fingers slipped to yours and you winced in pain. "Fuck!"Your hand was now cradled in another, close to your chest. 

 

The chit-chatter dropped in an instant, everyone's heads creaked in your direction like a nightmare, their widened eyes hovering. "Fuck." You whispered under your breath when you understood the situation. 

 

Then, unexpected to yourself, a sliver of happiness curled up your lips just when everyone started panicking and crowding around you. 

 

Andy was gripping your hand as blood slipped from your finger to touch the back of her palm, leaving a trail of red. Nile, in shock, was left behind when Nicky and Joe, with worry present in their expressions, mumbled something, then closed their eyes, praying and begging for your wound to heal. But it wasn't healing, not in the least when Andy's grip tightened and more blood seeped from the cut. 

 

You were smiling, lipless, as your eyes drifted to Andy's frustrated ones, and you wondered if that was the expression you were wearing when she became mortal. 

 

"I'm sorry." Nile said aloud but it only caught your attention. You turned to her, remembering her pariah because of your doing. "I mean, it's me, isn't it? I'm doing this, I'm causing all your... immortality, I'm..." Tears surfaced in her eyes. "I'm killing you guys." 

 

"No- no. No, Nile, you're not killing us, and you shouldn't be sorry." You paused, glancing at Nicky for affirmation he granted. "I am the one who should be sorry for making you the answer to an unanswerable question. So I'm, I'm so sorry, Nile, for casting you out of our family." You breathed, ignoring the tickle of pain on your finger, and continued. "Being a grownup, I expected more of myself than to outcast a fellow soldier, and I know you do too. I was emotional and irrational during the unexpected. So I owe everyone an apology." You let your gaze linger on each member of your family, your troop, "I'm sorry, Nile, for not treating you the way I should've. Nicky, Joe, I'm sorry for having both of you in the middle of my problems. I'm sorry, sweetheart, for not being more accepting of your change." 

 

Tears dripped down Nile's cheeks. "Thank you. Thank you for that apology." She gritted out through her emotions, wiping away her tears on her sleeve. Nicky and Joe gave you a watery laugh of relief while Andy's nails dug lightly into your wrist, reminding you of your wound. "So, um, I'm mortal." You shook your head in disbelief. "What do I do?" 

 

"Well, first of all, don't outcast me again." Nile said, and you broke into watery laughs. 

 

"No, I won't." You assured her, then turned to Andy, her sad eyes desperately searched yours, tears filling up. "What do we do?" 

 

"We die." You gave her a soft smile. "We get our dream, and we die, together. And when we do," you swivelled over to the rest of your team momentarily. "You make sure to bury us together in the same grave, six feet deep, or I swear I'll haunt your asses until you die. And god knows how long that'll take." 

 

Wet laughter filled the room. Andy took her bottom lip in, nodding in acceptance. "That's the best plan I've heard in six thousand years." 

[multifandommilfs]

Plan No Longer

Pairing: Addison Montgomery x reader

Wc: 1305

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Thanking @walshies for the side pics, they are my main inspiration :D

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You were planning. You told yourself you were ready, but your heart was still planning, causing your fingers to toy perpetually with the little velvet ring box in your coat. 

 

Addison was just beside you as the waves lapped at the beach, the horizon moulding into one with the sky, dark and vast, they stretched out beyond your eyes could fathom, unpredictable. 

 

You felt the silky texture beneath your fingertips, your heart beating raggedly in your chest. Addison let out a content noise resembling a purr as she sank into the beach chair, her left hand, fingers ringless and bare, folded easily with yours like a thousand times before. You wondered if she would still look at you the same way tonight, after you asked her the most important question of your life.

 

Your mind whirred back to when she first held your hand, though you couldn't quite remember anything except for the feeling of warmth running through your veins. Your chase for the memory led you back to when you first met her.

 

Unpredictable was when you met Addison. 

 

It was a busy day at Seattle Grace Hospital, people were rolling in on stretchers, and the bus-car accident was to blame. You knocked your way through multitudes of nurses and doctors, breath in your throat. Your pager was incessant. It's pace felt faster even with every stretch your legs made to the OR for your unscheduled neurosurgery.

 

Your feet trampled down the flight of stairs, not bothering to take the stretcher-packed elevators. "Page Addison Montgomery!" Was the first thing you heard at the scrub station.

 

"Sorry?!" You hollered, and Derek whipped his head towards you so harshly that you were afraid his brain-deep hands might hit something important. "Page Addison Montgomery! The patient is pregnant, and she's haemorrhaging! Page her! " 

 

"Page her yourself, Shepherd! I've never worked with pediatrics!" You rushed over, perspiration already forming on your forehead as you took over his position and requested O blood bags when the ECG monitor began to hasten evidently. 

 

"She's going into V-Fib L/n! Administer-" 

 

"Shepherd, call that paediatrician now!" Your voice rose, forcing him to relent his role. "CPR, oxygen, charge up the defibrillator. "You delegated the job to nurses as you started to control the haemorrhage. 

 

It felt like forever before the said paediatrician finally barged into the OR, panting and tired. She immediately captured your line of sight as she put up all the necessary lines and monitored the baby as if she were only working on muscle memory, as if you weren't doing the same right now, watching her and suturing, letting the needle glide through the skin from right to left.

 

With the Dura mater sutured closed, you moved onto the scalp. The race in your heart was for a completely different reason, and it may or may not have to do with the utterly stunning woman before you.

 

"How's the mother's progress?" The new voice made your heart swoon and your eyes flicker upward to catch her blazing red hair. No matter, the forceps in your hands remained steadfast, just like how you were trained to have your head clear and precise during panic. Your eyes averted back to your hands. Her eyes were a ladened weight on you.

 

"I've stopped the bleeding and her BP is steady."You notified her of what you knew, though you weren't sure if another v-fib might trigger due to her pregnancy.

 

"But?" Her question made you scrutinize her before she shrugged. "I know that mildly concerned tone, I've used it myself." She gave you a smile, proud of herself for analysing you.

 

You let out an impressed scoff and told her what you assumed would happen as she listened more intently than any doctor you've ever met, her teeth baring slightly to take in her lower lip. You glanced away as you finished closing the patient up, hurrying to scrub out as fast as possible because the woman in front of you was causing a wreck in your previously tranquil train of thoughts.

 

She had a skip in her steps when she met you at the scrub station. Turning on the faucet, she spoke, "I'm aware you don't know who I am." You focused on washing the soap off your arms. "That's charming, am I supposed to?" 

 

Her brows raised a touch at your sarcasm before the realisation hit her."No! No, no! That's totally not what I meant. I-I'm not egotistical or narcissistic or whatever you think I am now—I mean I kind of am, all surgeons are, but like- " She stopped mid-sentence, mentally kicking herself for being an awkward, stuttering mess. "I only wanted to make small talk or... whatever." 

 

You dried off your arms, leaning against the sink as you surveyed her. She looked away, a tint of blush rising up her cheeks. You smiled, yielding to your wants. "Would that whatever be something like...a date?" 

 

Her gaze whipped over to you, red high on her cheekbones. She wrung her hands and untied her surgical cap, freeing her hair over her shoulders in an elegant shake of her head. "If you want it to be." 

 

You inched closer, lips pursing in faux contemplation. "I don't think I want it." Her smile faltered.

 

"I think I'll need it to be a date." You gushed before she could turn away, or worse, apologise. 

 

Her eyes sparkled genuinely. "Addison Montgomery." 

 

The next four months were history.

 

Until right now. Right now, you hold the future in your hands. And you didn't know whether to be excited or nervous about it.

 

You coughed, trying to unlodge the hesitation in your throat, which garnered Addison's attention. "Are you cold?" She asked, but she was already slipping off her sweater to drape it around your frame. 

 

Just like that, there was no more hesitation, no more blue-screen in your heart. You took a full moment to register it—your heart was actually ready after weeks of reluctance at how much detail she noticed about you.

 

"Y/n, are you-" 

 

"Willyoumarryme?" The words just tumbled past your lips without prior warning. 

 

"What?" 

 

"Marry me. Marry me." You scrambled, clumsily to your feet, still grasping her hand. "I know there's no fancy lights, no candlelit dinner but- that's my everyday with you; you are my fancy lights, you are my candlelit dinner, you are- you are everything I could possibly have-" 

 

"I-" she stammered, tears pooling in her irises. For a moment, your lower lip trembled when it faced the possibility of rejection. Perhaps she wasn't ready, just like Yang and you were Burke, too fast. Your heart sank and sank and sank, falling so deep into the pits of your stomach that you let your tears coat your vision. 

It took a while moment and you thought you lost at life.

 

Then her signature smile ran across her lips and stayed there, tears slipped from her crinkled eyes. "You're asking me to marry you." A statement you nodded fervently to, and your heart was already soaring seeing her happiness. "You're asking me to marry you!" High-pitched, she laughed, like bells ringing, and launched herself to you, toppling the both of you right into the sand. 

 

Your laughter trailed hers until your chest hurt, so you just gripped her tightly, everything you have, needed and wanted, all in one handful. "I'm asking you to marry me." You let out an amazed breath, not quite believing yourself for being so lucky.

"We're married," she breathed, looking at you in wonder. "I'm married to you." It was a feeling that was all too surreal at the same time that something clicked perfectly in her life.

 

The ring, a merely a symbol of marriage, was forgotten. The truth of it was that you were already wearing your marriage on your hearts.

[multifandommilfs]

The Jürgen Theory

Pairing: Olivia Benson x reader

Wc: 840

Fluff!

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At first, it was a drop of water on the car's windshield as you and Olivia advanced towards the suspect's address that was currently pinging on the GPS to swerve away from high-traffic areas.

 

In the passenger seat, you craned your neck so you could gauge the incoming weather. "I hope you're not getting your hopes up expecting rain in mid-July." Olivia said from the driver's seat nonchalantly.

 

You cast her a side eye, flopping back into your seat. "To live without hope is to cease to live. Stop being such a party popper Liv, it's been in the 80s°F since last week. A girl should hope for some rain before we all faint from heatstroke."

 

Olivia sputtered out a laugh. "Did you just quote me on Jürgen Moltmann? I can't believe I've been working with a nerd all this while."

 

Her verbal blow made you smack her on the arm as you made a face of faux offence. "You're calling me the nerd? I'm not the one who knew the quote was Yurgen's or whomever you said it was."

 

However, she knew from your perfect pronunciation of the theologian's name that you had begun to rage a banter. "Says you, I bet you even looked up the pronunciation. Any normal person would've said Yargen instead of Yurgen." She clocked on the blinkers, maneuvering the car into a neighbourhood as a few drops of rain splattered against the windshield.

 

"And the fact that you have that information makes you more of a nerd than I am." Your laugh barked out, luring hers out as well. "Touché." And the both of you were trying your best to contain the unending waves of laughter pouring out of your throats, knowing the debate was over at your catch.

 

Your eyes trailed out the window when the car pulled up at the sidewalk closest to the building, skimming for your suspect in case he wanted to get a headstart while Olivia double-checked the GPS for the right address. "You ready?" Her tone turned grave and you nodded, sliding out of the vehicle in tandem with her.

 

The rain was more compact now, hitting your face every few seconds and making you hope you'd have luck by your side to stay relatively dry until you got back to the unit.

 

It took a while to reach his apartment, but when you did, your suspect's fight-or-flight instincts took over as soon as you flashed your badge. He leapt out from the fire escape, forcing you to follow this trail as Olivia rounded the apartment building.

 

She skidded around the corner into the alleyway, just in time to witness your tumbling down the suspended ladder after the suspect, simultaneously dragging him down onto the rough concrete ground with your body weight.

 

It seemed to take a whole thousand raindrops bursting against your skin and soaking your clothes as you cuffed the innocent-screaming suspect before handing the guy over to Olivia who shoved him into the backseat by the top of his head.

 

"80s°F and raining; it looks like Jürgen is the winner here." You sent her a smug smile despite the shiver that crawled up your spine. "Whatever helps you sleep at night." She rolled her eyes in defeat, not trusting her teeth to not chatter and subsequently further your teasing.

 

She caught your winner's grin as she reared the car to life and you switched off the AC when you saw her fingers tremble as they gripped the steering, taking no consideration into the suspect more than pissed off objection.

 

Then it was all easy-going back to the unit when you and Olivia were sent back home due to a good job, late hours, and wet hair.

 

You two clocked out without a complaint, knowing Fin could finish off the interrogation better than two shivering wet detectives, one drier than the other but still on the same level of 'drenched to the core'.

 

It wasn't until you winded down for bed that you realised the trouble you both were in. "Don't tell me it is what I think it is." You slapped your hands on your face in bed when you sneezed for the third time that night, your back aching from the previous fall. It made you regret all the choices you made that morning.

 

"Looks like Jürgen doesn't have your back." Olivia laughed before succumbing to a fit of coughs, leaving you wheezing at her sickness's timely attack and puns.

 

"Yeah I'll bet he doesn't have yours either." You made an aggressive inhale, shifting up your pillow for a better angle of breath.

 

"And don't you even think about going to work tomorrow. I'm taking care of you." You continued, voice going snotty.

 

"Haven't you heard of survival of the fittest? We'll see who takes care of who tomorrow." Her flaunt made you smile wordlessly because despite her tough exterior, you already knew you'd be the one taking care of her tomorrow. She only proved you right when she let out another round of wet coughs.

[multifandommilfs]

Days and Weeks

Pairing: Olivia Benson x reader

Wc: 1040

Y/n is a teacher/prof, Janice is your colleague. S13 E5 spoilers. Fluff

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"So both of them confessed to the murder! Almost simultaneously even. I mean what were they thinking? Because if we hadn't dug up their baby's body, we could've charged them BOTH with murder by all means." She paced around your frame as you did your skincare by the sink. Her hands were gesticulating all over the place as she ranted about a recently closed case.

 

"But there's no evidence of trauma in the M.E.'s, wouldn't the case be baseless then?" You indulged yourself in one of her rare rambles, careful not to get all the soap past your lips as you washed the product off. It was understandable that with so much secret-keeping from the media, she had to get it out of the system one way or another. You'd rather hear it out than let anyone else take up that part.

 

With a direct view of her reflection behind you in the mirror, you saw as a frown creased its way between her brows. "It's not just baseless, it's a complete lost cause! Any first-year lawyer could've gotten them off without so much as an objection! And can you imagine what she wanted to charge them with?!" She appeared with hands akimbo beside you when she heard your brushing, knowing you couldn't speak.

 

Mint filling up the crevices of your mouth now, you cocked your chin up in reply to her rhetoric. "Manslaughter in the goddamn second degree." She deadpanned and a surprised noise came up from the back of your throat as you whipped to her, expressing, 'Are you serious?'

 

She widened her eyes for a split second which conveyed, 'Yeah, that was what I thought too.'

 

"Verdict?" You asked after finishing up, moving from the bathroom to bedroom. Olivia followed behind.

 

"A.D.A. wishes she got one, turns out the baby died of SIDS—sudden infant death syndrome. M.E. said it's not uncommon."

 

"What? And you just released them?" You made a split-second decision to not strip due to the chilly autumn night, getting under the covers as Olivia flicked off the lights.

 

"We had to, there weren't any charges to go on. Even though I wish there was a 'sending officers on a wild goose chase' charge."

 

You sputtered with laughter. "Yeah? I bet that'll be just as memorable. But you gotta give it to 'em, you don't see that kind of dedication nowadays." You adjusted yourself to maximum comfort, sleep already invading your senses after the long day.

 

She hummed, slipping under the covers. "Grief comes in many forms, but getting yourself into custody? And on Halloween? That's something I haven't seen before." She grumbled, draping half of her body atop of yours as you shuffled closer to her, a telltale sign that you wanted to hit the sack in about five minutes.

 

"We haven't talked about your week sweetheart." She lowered her voice so that it was just above a whisper, her breath fanning at your jaw, her hand enclosed around the far side of your waist.

 

"I'll tell you all about it tomorrow, Liv." Your words came out in a quiet murmur.

 

However when Thursday morning rolled around, it wasn't your alarm that awakened the both of you but the blaring rays of ultraviolet.

 

The peace scattered as you clambered out of bed. "I'll shower at work!" You said as you threw on an outfit, letting Olivia hog the shower. Her on-the-run job knew no bounds when it came to physical exertion while your job required minimal to none.

 

It seemed as if she took a one-second shower because she was hollering for you (or her clothes) the second you tossed two pieces of white bread into the toaster. And so you were rushing back into the bedroom, your ears victim to her colourful choice of words. “Something black!”

 

"Liv, that’s like your entire wardrobe.” You drawled loud enough for her to hear.

 

“Crew neck!”

"Long-sleeved or short?”

 

“It’s autumn Y/n!” Her words made you laugh as you unhung her shirt and picked out the rest.

 

You shoved her outfit into her arms by the entrance of the bathroom. “If it’s any redeeming I didn’t have a problem with the lingerie.” She spluttered, laughter pealing throughout the room. “I’ll redeem you when you tell me about your day!”

The toasts leapt with a satisfying ‘ching’ as Olivia hurried into the kitchen wafting with freshness. “The school surprised the students with a pop quiz the other day." You rushed out as you buttered the crispy golden-brown surface. “And?” She took the coffee from the machine and dunked it into a glass before heaving back a mouthful, stretching it out to you next with a straw in place which you took.

 

“Mh, so the thing is, I never knew things actually pop during pop quizzes. You shoved a piece of toast into her mouth and wolfed down what you could while dishes clanked into the sink.

 

“Janice popped half an hour into the test.”

 

“What?! Janice? I thought she was 6 months along!” Olivia spun to your busy frame, a hand over her mouth as she half choked in laughter.

 

 

“Time flies babe, she popped during the pop quiz.” Your look of cheekiness did nothing to quell her chortle even as she ran around the apartment gathering case files, her coat and yours while you scrubbed the dishes as fast as possible.

 

“So that was what you were holding back from me?”

 

“Hold back? Please, I could never." You slipped on your heels as she did hers, the both of you finally meeting at the front door. She did the watch strap on your wrist with practiced ease as you brushed her stray hair from all the morning chaos into place before snatching her in for a soft kiss.

 

“You better pray Cragen’s in a good mood, you’re thirty minutes late.”

 

“Says you, you’d be an hour late with all the traffic.”

You raised your hands in surrender as you filtered out the front door and soon, the apartment building. You were parted halfway to your respective cars before you heard her yell, “I’ll see you tonight!"

 

You blew her an air kiss in response, already knowing your Thursday night would be the highlight of the week.

[multifandommilfs]

Sleepless Mischief

Pairing: Amanda Rollins x reader

Wc: 827

Summary: you cause some mischief as sleepless nights hit

A/n: totally not projecting my insomnia into this fic and is totally not self-indulgent.

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The curtains were drawn wide, welcoming a cycle of getting rid of the stuffy air inside and inviting the fresh warmth from outside. With a rush of the April wind through the patio door, heat curled beneath the sheets and lingered.

The swelter made perspire run up your skin, seeping through your clothes and you kicked off the covers with a quiet grunt, frustration pursing your lips at another restless night. You shallowed your breath, careful not to rouse Amanda because your face was pressed in the crook of her neck, and being a detective, her guard was always up and running, volatile to even Frannie's snore that was boisterous within the silent house.

In the darkness, your feet figured out the edge of the bed. It became a mission now to leave without being caught. You lifted the pressure of your chin on her shoulder ever so slightly so that the lack of weight would be adaptable, your breath latched in your throat so that it wouldn't blow her hair to tickle her face.

The bed creaked at the shift and your heart leapt to your throat, eyes darting instantly to her features but no, there was not a frown pulling on her brow and so you resumed. As you finally hauled your head off her pillow, smiling to yourself about your achievement, your hair drooped and brushed past her cheek, too quick for you to notice because you were already playing the balancing game with your limbs, thinking you were out of her radar.

But you were not. You completely overlooked the moment her eyes peeked open in alarm, too focused on your foot not kicking over the bedside lamp or the alarm clock or the bedside table itself that your neck was straining over your right shoulder, as if you were trying to avoid a landmine.

She could've laughed as she watched the heel of your foot slam into the bedside table, you holding back an expressive grimace at the noise and the pain, but she chose to keep quiet as you continued backpedalling after casting a furtive glance at her.

She had her eyes on you the whole time as you slid off the bed in a tremendously ungraceful manner, legs off the ledge smoothly until you must've scraped your shin on the bedframe when you leapt backwards off the bed and literally banged into the wall behind from the pain. A laugh almost escaped her until she reminded herself of her role.

But what fun would it be if she didn't scare you a little? So she shuffled rather dramatically, hugging the sheets and saw as you stiffened, wide eyed against the wall. She gave herself a full view of the room, wanting to catch you in the act the moment you open the door.

She didn't expect you to watch her for another beat, even after the fright wore off from your features, shoulders rolling down. You were encased in a dim glow from the patio door, and your irises glittered as your lips hooked up into a slight smile only at the sight of her. She felt weak inside all a sudden, her own smile threatening to surface.

When you finally dragged your gaze off of her, she was a breadth away from grinning at all your affection, heart bursting with joy. She was up before your hand could even brush the doorknob.

"Where are ya runnin' off to?" Her laugh bubbled over as you yelped, whirling over in her direction.

Once the fret washed over, you blew out a exasperated breath. "Was about'a take Frannie out for a walk cos I couldn't sleep."

"You couldn't just wake me?" She said, amusement apparent in her voice even though it was ladened with sleep.

"No of course not, you work twenty four seven already, I'm sorry I woke you." You ambled over to her side of the bed, your lips meeting her temple. "Yeah kickin' the bedside table? You weren't exactly discreet."

You rolled your eyes at her words, turning back to the door. "Go back to bed 'Manda, you need it."

"And leave you alone in those clothes? Not a chance." She leapt from the bed and in a few quick steps, her lips pecked yours before she swung the door open. And in another step almost tripped over Frannie who was stationed by the door, her leash and collar hanging on her lower jaw. She barked, tail wagging at Amanda before she looked at you.

"Yeah Fran, I'm joining this time." And that was cue for you to leash it up before it went prancing up to the doorstep.

"How many times have you gone out like this?" Amanda eyed you, unsure herself if she wanted to know the answer.

"As much as you have in mind." You said with a laugh and all she could do was shake her head, smiling all the way out the front door.

[multifandommilfs]

To Pillow the Fall

Pairing: Sonya Paxton x reader

Wc: 1505

Summary: your friendship with Sonya takes a turn when everything falls apart

A/n: this is based on S11 E4 "Hammered" I totally did not stew on this fic for a whole week because for reasons unknown, it was the hardest to write. My brain is in need of some easy fluff after this.

Tw: drinking, a dash of angst w happy ending :D

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Sonya knew she was done for when the judge ordered Olivia's testimony and the breathalyser to be brought into court. The former to testify Sonya's story about being 45 minutes late—burning the midnight oil to work the case and Olivia's witness statement. The latter to certify her soberiety which was easily a down-the-drain goer. Yesterday's mistrial hung over her face like a surgery and the liquor was the anesthesia. It was needed.

 

When the drunkard defendant called her bluff for not drinking, the heat of embarrassment that should've washed up her face twisted deep down into her stomach. Yet she could do nothing but call up Olivia and strain her tears back to grapple with the last of her image. She knew what was coming.

 

'Hammered A.D.A. says alcoholism is not a disease' headlined in bold fonts on Page Six. Doozer or Boozer?

 

The media would make a party out of the end of her career. She took in her lower lip to keep it from trembling at the thought, but the liquor warped her sense of strength and a metallic taste of blood spilled into her mouth. She pressed her shaky fingertips against the cut at her lip file but missed a tear that escaped when the courtroom doors clapped open, immediately turning a crowd of impatient heads.

 

Sonya couldn't have been more grateful for the interruption in the silence when it broke the judge's heavy brooding at her, Olivia now taking the brunt of the judge's glare.

 

"Where would you like me to administer the test, your honour? Right at the defence table?" Olivia said so simply like she was sure they were headed for a landslide win with the defendant drunk during trial.

 

"Unfortunately, the prosecution." The judge said with distaste. The way Olivia's face fell in that same beat as she spun over to face Sonya would've been utterly priceless on the defendant, yet was irreversibly humiliating on hers.

 

Sonya was a breadth away from collapsing when Olivia escorted her out of court like she hadn't years of prosecuting experience on her belt, not even with the plain courtesy of letting her retrieve her shoulder bag and case files.

 

"I got it." She snapped, eyes glaring when Olivia tried to provide her stability. "I got it." She snatched her arm from Olivia's grasp when another attempt was made to console. 

 

They stepped out of the courthouse, Sonya a few strides ahead of Olivia, heels sharp upon the concrete stairs that were her scapegoat. Despite her raised shoulders, her gaze was cast down, face hidden behind tresses of hair.

 

"Sonya I'm sorry!" Olivia shielded the day's stark yellow with an open palm as she rushed down the steps. She watched as Sonya's gait wavered to a standstill at the bottom of the courthouse.

 

Sonya whipped over, hair blowing over her shoulder, her irises flared sharply into Olivia's, her posture swayed and Olivia had a frenzied thought about whether the woman before her was going to fall. "What? You've never felt so helpless with me so you decide to help the judge? Show who's boss?" The laugh Sonya forced out was stiff.

 

She took calculated steps towards the detective. "And you decide that it isn't enough so you bring the only person I have into this." Sonya's words bit but Olivia's lips parted in tremendous surprise.

 

Because the only person behind Sonya and herself was you, idle by the NYPD car.

 

"Look, Sonya I didn't know-" Olivia held her hands aloft, like approaching a perpetrator. But she didn't need to go far because Sonya was already advancing towards her with bloodshot eyes and a fury to strike.

 

"Then why is she here?" Her tone lacked her usual edge, it quavered and all of a sudden, her eyes gleamed with hot tears.

 

You'd been Olivia's ride to the courthouse but hadn't the chance to attend the trial before Stabler dialled you with new victims to another case. Standing there, your expression was tinged with concern as your eyes darted between the two of them, landing mainly on Olivia in an unspoken question. She let out a yielding breath but was cut off before she could clear up the misunderstanding.

 

"Hear this Olivia, I don't know what you're trying to do," Sonya cut through, glaring harder than the sunlight in Olivia's face. "But I'm the one calling the shots and you're the one drinking it." She spat, her height proved advantageous in intimidation. The streaked mascara and sharp-edged shadow beneath her cheekbone rendering her even more unnerving.

 

But underneath that façade, Olivia saw a frazzled woman grappling for the last bit of control and so chose to clench her jaw in silence.

________

Sonya had lashed out to Olivia after catching your eye. Olivia had stayed in silence which was a whole one-eighty from the detective who always pushed victims to testify against their offenders.

 

You had half a mind to break off their altercation until you caught Olivia's gesture to not intervene—her splayed palm by her side. She didn't want you to get involved more than you already were, the altercation was a breath away from combusting.

 

Then Sonya whirled back down the steps and to you, her gaze made feral by her blotchy makeup was alarming in the least. She had never lost composure, not in public with her being an ADA. You met her a distance away from the NYPD car, with questions on the tip of your tongue and nausea churning in your mouth from worry.

 

You could hardly get out half a syllable before she collapsed onto you, full force and all weight, a sob rushing past your ear. Your timely dodge sent your neck over her shoulder which gave you a straight view of Olivia instead of crushing your vision into her chest. You couldn't help the glare that surfaced despite your lack of knowledge of the situation. It wasn't fair, but Sonya was the one crumpling and Olivia was the one standing. The stink of booze that pervaded your senses was futile with any sort of elucidation.

____

The air conditioning was vain in clearing the uneasy atmosphere within the squad car. Despite being trained to counter these sorts of situations, you with unbudging criminals and her against the defence. There was a difference between work and life which was usually messier than what you'd like.

 

"There's a restaurant 'round the corner. Could you drop me off?" She broke the silence and you glanced at her. The sight of her streaked mascara and red-brimmed eyes caused a clench in your chest. You relented despite your gut telling you otherwise.

 

The bell clinked, announcing your presence in the establishment. She ordered a couple shots as you watched her warily, thinking back to the stink of booze when she lunged for you, wondering if they were related at all.

 

She sank into her seat under your unintentional scrutiny, the preamble of the mess lingering on the tip of her tongue, knowing you would find out sooner or later anyway. The shot of liquor splashed against the back of her throat, burning away her embarrassment about the matter, unravelling her court-confidence before she faced you. "I totally screwed up." The drink allowed her a laugh as your frown deepened at her reaction to a severe mishap.

 

"There were two 3D recreations of the murder. One without the defendant's face in it and another with it, which was only meant to-" she sucked in a trembling breath, like reality seeping through the drunken haze. "Trigger his memory. Not to be played during trial." She gave out a watery laugh and slipped her eyes shut for a brief second, regaining her smile.

 

"I played the wrong tape." She shrugged and threw back another drink, wincing and chuckling. Her hand rose from the booth, about to call the waiter for shots when you grasped her wrist to refrain her from doing so. She tore herself out of your grasp. "Let me drink won't you? I've got a court-ordered rehab coming my way."

 

"What?" You whispered harshly. "That's exactly why you're not supposed to be drinking!"

 

"I'm fine." She snarked but you were past your point of letting everything slide, whipping out your handcuffs. "You either come with me right now or I'll have to drag you out." She stilled, her eyes a beat too slow in finding yours. "Fine." You stood up from the booth as she did, your head ducked to the side as you pocketed the cuffs.

 

"For the record-" she said and you looked up. "This never happened." Before you could answer her, she slugged you towards her, lips on yours in a hot second and parted just as fast. You stared at her, bewildered, you could still feel the texture of her lips pressing against yours, your mind running amok.

 

"I'll wave down a cab." She started, but you beat her to it. "No, I'm driving and.." you trailed off, heat settling on your face. "We have some things to talk about."

[multifandommilfs]

That Luscious Blonde

Pairing: Sonya Paxton x reader

Wc: 1474

Summary: you defend Sonya after Stabler brings up her past. Your relationship furthers with each subsequent meeting

A/n:this is based on season 11 episode 9 "Gray"

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You were new to the precinct. But that didn't hinder you from recognizing a hurt ego when you saw one. You couldn't really blame her when she was the only one making an attempt to get over her alcoholic past.

 

So the way Stabler treated her wasn't right when he was in the wrong for hiding how he got Chuck the rapist's disciplinary record from his daughter, which would botch the case. You push past him. "What's her name?" You whispered harshly, harboring some annoyance towards him and urgent to apologize to the woman on his behalf.

 

But she was already halfway across the bullpen, and in another few strides, would've made it out the door. You couldn't wait for his reply.

 

"Hey, you with the luscious blonde hair!" Tingles were jumping beneath your feet when the room quietened to the last staccato of her heel. You wondered if you had picked her last nerve and the thought had you holding back a cringe.

 

When she turned, it was slow and hesitating. Her heels were almost tripping over each other at the unaccustomed pace. Her reluctance was furthered with her back turned to you because luscious blonde hair? you must be hollering at someone else and not her, she has never been the target of flirtation like that.

 

She thought she had gotten herself embarrassed for the second time in those 10 minutes when she turned around fully until she caught your frame in the place where a pissed-off Stabler once stood. Instead, this time she was met with all teeth and stretched lips.

 

"Were you referring to me? Because if it's someone else I'll spare myself the embarrassment and take Stabler's advice." The words "go have a drink" were a fresh burn in her chest and mind. She saw how Stabler shifted in regret and was satisfied with spiting him back.

 

"No! Of course not, I was referring to you. I just didn't know your name- "You cursed yourself internally for revealing that impolite fact, rushing over to her with haste and ease provided by your on-field ground-level shoes. Yet when you lingered by her side, you were still her height despite the fact that her heels had altitude.

 

And missing her previous hesitance, you pushed a side of her hair back, the pads of your finger grazing the shell of her ear as you leant in. The natural warmth that wholly encompassed her in that instance almost made her stumble back. And once her senses had only accepted the change in temperature, you whispered. "I'm sorry about Stabler." The heat that ghosted her jaw cast a bearable shiver in her knees that surprised herself.

 

Then you pulled back with a smile that should've been enough to forgive if you hadn't just had an effect on her. Because now the air seemed to lose its warmth, leaving a tangible chill that ran down her spine.

 

You saw how her jaw clenched in the miniscule, the muscles in her neck flexing and relaxing like she was trying to restrain herself from putting up a fight but missed the way her knees tensed in order to regain her footing—how she was actually trying to suppress a shiver from that damned chill.

 

So it was polite to back away, your smile falling just by the corners of your lips when you fretted you'd gone a step too far. "See you in court."

 

"Thank you, and you will, Flatterer." She said it utmost casually, her eyes lingering on you before she whirled out the precinct.

 

A scoff came behind you. You turned just to see Stabler and Olivia giving you both of their respective incredulous expressions. "What was that little.." Stabler swung his forefinger around.

 

"Saving your ass?" You shrugged and went straight back to your desk, your heart a little giddy from the woman you couldn't even name.

________

Whatever you had said to her was the only reason that Sonya accepted his later apology. Stabler told you the next day.

 

Sure, you said, her name fluttering and causing delightful chaos in your mind as you checked your watch. We're late for your arraignment date.

 

It turns out you weren't exactly late for the arraignment because the judge is now being reassigned as a result of the possible prejudice accusation or some court drama you weren't quite sure of.

 

What you were sure of was the woman returning to her seat on the other side of the bar that separated the courtroom and the public gallery. "Sonya." Stabler greeted her beside you. She turned and there was that same glare yesterday before all hell broke loose.

 

"Didn't I tell you to make it to arraignment?" She snarked.

 

"Aren't we here?" His tone raised audibly and people were turning heads and it filled you with a maternal mortification like a mother watching her kids in a physical altercation.

 

"The whole arraignment Stabler, not just the second half of it!" Her voice toned down but carried the same sharpness.

 

"Stabler, um-" you put a hand on the crease of her arm to address her because her name was weak on your tongue. "It's just not the time." You cocked your head to the judge's bench and it was immediate and relieving how she understood you and retracted, her arm sliding off your grasp, so that you felt the length of soft skin from the underside of her elbow trailing all the way down to her wrist before she turned to face the stand, leaving you with red rushing up your face as you gripped the edge of the seats.

 

"All sit." The court ordered before Stabler elbowed you.

 

"Seriously, what is going on between you two? Why do I get the tiger side of her and you get this side of her. Not that I'd trade it, but share some of the kindness, geez." You widened your eyes at him. "You don't know what you're talking about."

 

He was about to say something else with that smug smirk on his face when the gavel slammed down. "Silence!"

__________

The new judge should be the one accused of prejudice, was your verdict. He had absolutely no right to bring up her personal matter in front of strangers and the defendant.

 

But what was pressing now was that no show witness which Stabler has 30 minutes to bring in. It wasn't enough time but with the judge's personal bias, you hoped it was enough. Stabler notified Olivia while you cajoled Sonya to stay behind, take a breather, work the case.

 

So now the both of you took a spot just outside the courtroom, files clipped shut in her lap. "Actually I think my case is already pretty solid." She smiled at you and you realized that it was the first time she did. The way your chest swelled at the simple lift of her lips was glorious and swayed your hold on being professional. You shifted, chuckling and running your hand through your hair to quell the race beneath your ribs.

 

"So why stay? You like your mysteries solved." You peeked a glance at her and saw that she was already looking at you. Through panic, you held her gaze, and a spark flared within her irises. She adored a challenge.

 

"Because you," she squinted her eyes lightly, daring you to avert your gaze. "Are a mystery to me." When you didn't, her fingertips that were priorly poised on her lap dropped onto yours, eliciting your blushed attention to it and breaking the daze, for the heat from her palm that seeped through the fabric made you perspire a slight.

 

The heightened temperature you felt didn't quite help your rationalizing when you slid your hand over hers. The back of her hand was soft yet firm, textured with the green veins that weaved under her skin.

 

Without a word between the both of you, she flipped her hand beneath yours so that it faced up, the heat on your thigh curling away. Your hand atop hers felt warmer than usual. It was a silent choice to accept or deny. Your lips parted in a grin as you glanced at her, seeing how hers held a smile.

 

You drew your fingers between hers, in turn accepting her unuttured question before your hands could start to get clammy.

 

"So I hope I'll get your name after we've nailed this case, Flatterer." She said, glancing up at the approaching Stabler and Benson.

 

"I'll take your word for it then." The two of you released your intertwined hands, standing up from the bench.

 

"What? No nickname this time?" Her laugh sent you grinning, heart thumping, but you held that little bit of your composure and gave her a faux eyeroll that did nothing but showcase your fondness for her.

 

"Just keep your promise, luscious blonde."

[multifandommilfs]

Sickness and Safety

Pairing: Alex Blake x reader

Wc: 1445

Summary: you worry about Alex and the team catches on

masterlist | comment, reblog, drop an ask! Feedbacks are greatly adored!

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Something set off your senses the moment you stepped out of the SUV and onto the pathway of the house leading to the crime scene. The victim was dumped with blatant disregard.

 

Usually you wouldn't have felt this apprehensive with Garcia's preamble and the preliminary report following, but it was a "time is of the essence" case with a woman dead and another reported missing just a mere half an hour ago, so everything was a surprise, unknown.

 

With your straight line of vision to the crime scene, the brightly yellow markers against the varnished steps perforated your view more than anything else, silhouettes of police officers littering about. You felt your throat tighten at the clump of brunette splayed beneath them, the vic. It's been long since a victim pulled a reminiscence out of you. 

 

You forced a cough, blinking, letting air back into your throat. It must've been the jetlag getting to you, and you knew you weren't the only one. They were all more grumpy than usual, especially Hotch. You could feel his frown beside you without having to look at him. 

 

"Any news from Garcia?" JJ asked, approaching Hotch who now took your lead in the front, his towering frame effectively obscuring you from being observed by the profiler or in this case, multitudes of them. You knew there wasn't much to hide with them despite the lengths you'd go to suppress your anxiety. 

 

"Not yet." His voice gruff, certifying his jetlag. Speak of the devil. His cell phone beeped. 

 

"What is it Garcia?" But you trailed off the conversation, the paranoia in you wanting to prove it wasn't Blake was enough for you to tunnel vision the vic. Missing JJ's regardful gaze on you as you strode past her with a racing heart and clammy hands, sweat already pervading your shirt.

 

Reid and Morgan withdrew from the crime scene the moment you approached, joining in on Garcia's "on the spot" briefing. Morgan doing a double take when he saw you walk in the opposite direction. 

 

JJ watched as you knelt down by the victim's head who was face down, a spatter of brown blood on the concrete before Morgan followed her line of sight out of curiosity, seeing you crossing to another angle for a better view. What were you trying to confirm? 

 

"Why isn't she listening to this?" His voice was only for JJ to hear, below Garcia's humour and preamble about the case. JJ squinted her eyes before glancing at Morgan, taking a pause before she replied. "Pretty sure it's about Blake." 

_______

Your relationship had been established years before Alex joined the BAU. It completely off-centered your world when the news came to you, however your work lives will remain strictly professional, so it was an agreement to keep your relationship on the down low.

 

A single slip-up would let months of work out the bag and down the drain. It was a fact that both of you knew, especially when you were encompassed by profilers. 

 

Secrets were never meant to be kept.

 

Quick yet agonizing, the bullet zipped through the air and perforated her shoulder. The Unsub slammed into the ground a second too late. It was just too bad he got shot in the head, you would've enjoyed his incarceration.

 

"I'm fine." Blake said to the paramedics. Then again to JJ. And again to Hotch and David. Again to Morgan and Reid that by the end of it, she was doubting her own answer and you were struggling to hold back your anxiety, the urge to let your concerns explode out in the open and sacrifice months of secrecy. 

 

You forced yourself into the SUV, eyes lingering on her frame behind the tinted windows. 

 

JJ caught something. Or the lack of something: you didn't check up on Blake and Reid's theory proved JJ's suspicions right. 

 

"Sometimes when people want others to believe something, they unintentionally overcompensate in another area." Reid replied to JJ about an Unsub before JJ snapped her fingers, 180-ing the conversation.

 

"She overcompensated her insouciance. She didn't even look in Blake's direction after the incident. They're in a relationship, paranoid that we would find out about it."

 

"Blake and the Unsub?" Reid didn't catch up and made an incredulous expression bordering on disgust.

 

"No! Them." JJ emphasized, and with her smug look alone, Reid understood, his mouth dropping ajar. "Oh."

 

Which was your expression as well when you figured out the BAU's hottest, steamiest gossip from Garcia. 

 

You lucked out and with Garcia's prying, you fessed up, admitting to the gossip about your relationship. You didn't even have to mastermind any awkward grand plan to announce it, Garcia did all the work for you. The momentousness of it all died down in a few minutes, per you and Blake's request. Your work life remained strictly professional. 

_________

"Well sir, blondes definitely get the Unsub going because Marley Jones is the woman you're ID-ing right now and Kelly Worth is the one reported missing. Their twinsies point? Having long wavy shiny blonde hair and I am now questioning the presence of the God of Unfair."

 

"Garcia, check if they've been to a salon the month following up to their kidnapping." Hotch requested before glancing in the direction of the murmurs. Behind JJ and Morgan, your crouching frame above the victim caught his eye. 

 

A frown split the skin between his brows, but he didn't have time to think before Garcia affirmed his theory and the team halved. You, JJ and Morgan were heading to the second crime scene while Reid, Rossi and Hotch tracked down the hair salon. 

 

The second victim's hair had the same style, shade and texture. You cringed, heart leaping to your throat. You remembered Blake's shoulder, bloody and bleeding. The air stuffed up in your windpipe. The red and blue whining of the ambulance. The compulsion to call up Alex right now was brewing at your fingertips. Your fingers gripped your cellphone.

 

"Is there anything significant about this girl?" Just how much she looks like Alex. You wanted to say. God, you crave her right now. If you hadn't shoved her into mandatory leave with her simmering fever, you wouldn't be craving for her safety because she would be walking around and scrutinizing all the right details and making deductions with Reid. You wouldn't have felt so anxious right now if you could run back to Virginia and ensure her safe and sound. 

 

"Hello?" JJ waved a hand in front of your face and you jerked, eliciting Morgan's attention. 

 

"I'm sorry?" 

 

"Are you okay?" Her words made you shove your hands into your pockets as you made an assuring noise, rounding the victim and seeing yourself in those blank, unfocused gazes. It looks so much like her. It could be hers. It could be. It is. 

 

A flash of bloody red.

 

The face warped. You flinched back, slamming right into Morgan's chest, breathing ragged as you blinked the vision out of your mind, clenching your jaw repeatedly. 

 

"Hey, it's alright, it's alright, what's going on?" Morgan placed a hand on your shoulder, his expression ladened with seriousness and apprehension. You looked at JJ. Her brows furrowed. 

 

"It's Alex isn't it?" It was an educated guess and you nodded, pressing the oncoming tears back into your eyes with your thumb and forefinger.

 

"Call Hotch, tell him to meet back at Quantico." Morgan told JJ who seconded him, moving into action.

 

"What? What about the victim, the profile? The case isn't done."

 

"Don't you worry, we got it covered. But right now, we gotta get you home to your missus." He made suggestive eyebrows, winking and instantly flooded you with relief, hooking a smile up your lips. He does that somehow. You just couldn't be more grateful for your team.

_________

The key card slipped into the slit of the door and it clicked open. The air-conditioned room smelled luxurious and well-lived; add to it a hint of freshly printed paperwork, no one could tell anyone was nursing the flu. You walked through the threshold. And there she was, splayed across the couch, wrapped in woolen sweaters and scarves, a crossword puzzle propped on her chest, reading glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.

 

"Hi." You smiled softly, eyes twinkling with sudden emotion as you walked to the open side of the couch. She mirrored your expression before taking your hand, a warm thumb stroking your skin as you held her back.

 

"I'm safe." She told you and you couldn't have smiled wider, tears wobbling within the frame of your eyes. You were really, really grateful for your friends.

 

"I know it now."

[multifandommilfs]

No Case

Pairing: Elle Greenaway x reader

Wc: 1642

Summary: Hotch tracks down Elle after Lee's murder

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Elle emerged from her apartment, duffle bag in hand, phone in another. Was she running or starting over? Was she distancing herself from the night with the pistol or the BAU? Did she want to forget William Lee or the dread when her work phone rang?

 

Her phone rang by the sidewalk, the signature BAU beeping that she had set because she wanted to differentiate work from personal buzzed through her skin. It had once made the blood zap through her veins, the tingle throughout her as she put the caller through, she couldn't help the skip in her steps even though the case was brutal, heinous. Back then, it wasn't about catching the killer but saving the victims.

 

Now that same beep, Hotch's name lettered across the screen of her phone. Her stomach tightened, jaw clenching, her wrath searing her veins, burning and boiling. How could he let a rookie send her home when a murderer targeting the BAU was on the loose? After they did what the unsub told them not to do, she was the one who had to take the brunt of it. 

______

A flash of the Unsub pulling the trigger. A sudden burst of white and yellow. The bullet perforated through her, twisting and churning. She felt the agony, the flames spreading from that bullet as he knelt down.

 

She thought he was going to point the hot muzzle at her forehead. Her pulse was raging, slamming into her chest with so much force that she wondered how it hadn't broken out. He did point the muzzle to her head, right between her brows, so that she could see the smoke curling off of it from the previous gunshot, to taunt perhaps. To show her how much power he had because he lacked it severely in other areas.

 

What she hadn't expected was for him to dig his fingers into her gaping wound, pushing the bullet in further and a scream left her as she thrashed. The pain was erupting. It was flaming her body and chilling the ends of her limbs she didn't know what to feel but the rip in her throat and the tears spilling out of her eyes and his fingers in her wound.

 

She must've passed out from the intensity because when she woke up, her limbs were buzzing and the pain was trickling back into her consciousness as her blood seeped out. She slid herself on her elbows, dragging her ladened body to the coffee table and miraculously dialed the police.

_______

 

She stared at the cell, her thumb lingering to accept or deny. She couldn't make a choice. To accept was to hear Hotch's order; to deny was to prove herself guilty for murdering William Lee in cold blood. It wasn't about saving victims anymore, it was about catching the killer. And William Lee was too similar to her Unsub for his own sake.

 

She decided on none, tossing the cell into the trash, readjusting her duffle bag and slid right into her car, taking off.

________

Her eyes lingered on the faraway tinted sedan through the rearview mirror. It was keeping a distance, but it was following, a professional's doing but there was absolutely no way someone would be en route to a cemetery on a weekday afternoon. So the question: was it Hotch or Gideon?

 

Elle skipped the cemetery part. Cemeteries were well known for Unsub's confessions and she wasn't about to be dragged back to Quantico after a too-long drive. Besides, she promised to see you at the end of this week. It wouldn't hurt to give you a little surprise.

 

The blue-black cabrio that had been in Hotch's focus swerved out of congested traffic, changing routes so suddenly that Hotch couldn't keep up, flanked and surrounded by idle cars. By the time the lights blinked green, the streets hadn't a trace of the BMW. It was either a trick to lose him which would be the most blaring confession, or just a change of heart, he couldn't tell where or who she'd go to. Elle kept her personal life well, personal. He pulled up to a curb.  

 

"Goddess of Athena at your service! Ask and be enlightened!" There was a tinkly hum of a wand in the background as Garcia spoke.

 

"Garcia, I need you to pull everything you can find on Elle."

 

"Oh." Her tone dropped audibly through the speaker. "But that's against-"

 

"I don't want to do this either." There was a pause. Garcia held her breath. She wished Hotch wouldn't tell her to go through Elle's file, that was only meant for Unsubs who killed mercilessly and Elle was not one. She was acting in self-defence, she didn't kill in cold blood.

 

"Elle must be going or meeting someone of importance. Is her mother alive?" Garcia didn't know how Hotch could turn off his emotions, she didn't know how he could treat Elle, a colleague, a friend, like those heartless Unsubs, they went out to bars together, solved crimes together, laughed, jested, hugged and Hotch could just forget about it all.

 

"Garcia." She snapped out of her reverie, tears prickling her eyes as she typed, lacking her usual pace. How could someone not think twice about suspecting a friend of murder?

 

"Not in the picture." Her voice wavered. Her sight blurred along the page of an unfamiliar marriage certificate. "She's married. Did you know that?"

 

"An address?" His phone beeped with the address in trade for a goodbye from Garcia. He pursed up the thank you hanging off his lip. This was his penalty for letting emotions get in the way. He should've been tough on Elle's rest as unit chief, should've recognised her trauma and kept her off the field despite her plea. But he cracked and this was the price. An agent murdering a serial killer.

 

He pinched the bridge of his nose and veered off the curb.

______

Hotch caught Elle's cabrio hiked up the curb of another apartment which wasn't far off from where he lost her but that was taking the shortest, cleanest route.

 

Elle leapt the perron with familiarity, spoke into the buzzer with too much leisure and it was as if she knew the seconds you took to descend.

 

Hotch observed her eased stance through the binoculars. Then your figure poked into his view as you strolled out the door and he maneuvered his sight so that you two were fully in frame.

 

The way Elle tugged you into her arms, tentative but nevertheless desperate reminded Hotch of himself, and the way you flung yourself fervently into Elle, arm locking around her neck, reminded him of Haley.

 

His glasses slid down in search of a duffle bag and he was proven right. Elle was leaving the country. He was out of the car in a flurry, the car door swinging open behind him as he dashed across the desolate road with a gun in hand.

 

The sharp clacks of his sharp-tipped shoes answered Elle's pondering question. It was Hotch that tipped Elle's attention from you to him, to his gun. Her smile shrunk away, her hand immediately pulling you behind her frame as her stance changed to defensive.

 

"You're going the wrong way with this Hotch!" Her tone was shielding, contrasting the fierceness in her eyes as she stared down at Hotch from the perron.

 

He ignored her. "Why keep your wife under wraps?" And he could see Elle deflate visibly, exhaustion suddenly prominent in her features. He furthered on the concrete sidewalk, trying to catch sight of you to profile but she was obscuring you fully from his periphery. 

 

"You have to let this go, not everyone is an Unsub, Hotch."

 

He eyed her. "You skipped your physc eval. What do you think that tells me?"

 

Her hand that held yours behind her back tightened in the silence. You watched as her shoulders rose and fell. Then her grip slackened, like she'd come to an ultimatum. "That I'm resigning."

 

The air stilled. You could hear the cars blocks away, the revving of a motorcycle as it zipped through traffic, the low rumble of Hotch's and Elle's like it was right beside you. You saw how Elle's shoulders lifted and didn't sink again, like she was holding her breath. The light breeze that blew past felt oddly incriminating, as if her revelation was a confession of her murder.

Perhaps it was, but you weren't a profiler.

 

"It's in my car, passenger seat." The silence resumed for a breath before it broke with a sharp clap to the ground. And you saw a suited man walking to the cabrio, gun in holster, finally putting the intimidation to a face. It was Elle's badge and gun he scooped out, rendering his investigation off the BAU line. Furthering it would be personal.

 

Hotch gripped Elle's identification in his grasp. "Is this just to get me off your back?" The question was a last chance given to come clean.

 

"Face it, Hotch, you never get off of anyone's back. Say goodbye to Morgan and Spencer for me." She had nothing to take back or profess, so he could only give her a curt nod at both her request and decision.

 

"It would've been good to meet you under different circumstances." You said to him with a tight-lipped smile as you brushed past him to get into the car.

 

Elle glanced back at him as if to say a silent goodbye before the cabrio took off a moment after. Plumes of dusty gas puffing in his face from the BMW that speed off into the distance. He stood on the empty length of the road.

 

There were no witnesses, no evidence. The whole package of 'no case'. He whirled back to his sedan and prepared to meet his team at the next crime scene.

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[multifandommilfs]

Perks of Living Forever

Pairing: Andy x reader

Wc: 1834

Tw: death but they ressurect because immortality :)

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"who's that?" Nile held up a photoframe that encased a black and white picture of you and Andy posing together, her arm around your waist and yours hung around her shoulder. Andy seemed genuinely blissed and sober with a gaze from you directed to her. There was something intimate about it, Nile could tell, for your gaze held such affection, pure content by the meek crinkle of your eye. The photo seemed accidental, captured on the spur of the moment.

 

Nile turned the frame between her fingers in the direction of the team in her outstretched arm, seeing how Andy averted her eyes instantly, Joe and Nicky chuckling wryly. Andy snatched up her bottles of vodka and crossed the room, right out to the pier. Nile had her confusion thinly veiled.

 

"That's uh-" Joe scratched the back of his neck, his eyes finding Nicky's, an affirmation garnered. "Andy's lover. Taken quite recently I'd say. A year or two before World War Two, she got her hands on a camera, never told us how she did it, that's the first picture in our team. I'm quite proud that I took it." Nicky punched his arm lightly, eliciting chuckles. "We took it together!"

 

"A year before- why isn't she with Andy? With us? Is she-"

 

"We wish, but she's too stubborn for death itself." Nicky righted her.

 

"They had a disagreement on who they supported during the Second World War; you see- she had a psychopathic streak that longed for world dominion, took sides with Germany and went off the grid after the war ended. We couldn't find her but Andy persisted that she's alive, she was there for every soldier's death."

 

"Why hadn't you told me about it before? Why keep this from me?" She felt like a pariah, like the camera that captured the picture in her grasp, intruding on something that wasn't privy to her.

 

Nicky and Joe exchanged a conflicted glance. "We don't like to talk about it."

___________

Goussainville, just outside of Paris, September 2, 1940. A cacophony of gunshots hollered throughout the Charlie safe house, hauling them awake from sleep instantly, hearts pounding loudly in their ears, contrasting their silent footsteps that threaded fast on the wooden floorboards, pistols angled downward in their stiffly outstretched arms.

 

Book slammed his shoulder into Andy's room, a damp splat onto the ground as it broke off from its rusty hinges. "Oh shit." Book swore. The smell of metallic blugeoning them in the face. "Foterre!"

 

"What is it?" His chest heaving, the sight obscured by his two tall friends provided him with more consternation before they parted and he almost retched.

 

Andy, chest flat against the floor, lips dipped in a spreading puddle of her own blood, they could see the cragged outline of her blown-apart skull; the flesh gave way to bullets.

 

They stared, drenched in their own shock. Nicky made the first move, hands turning her on her back, the Glock in her hands slipping out of her loose grasp was it then that he realized the true extent of the injury and grimaced in disgust, recoiling away from the disfigured face, hair crusted with blood.

 

Then Booker lunged forward, rutting her against the ground by her shoulders. "Wake up Andy! Wake the fuck up!"

 

A wheeze and splutter filled them with immediate relief. They looked on as the trauma healed itself familiarly, flesh filling out the hollow, skin sticking itself back together as her pupils adjusted to the light. Booker released her, trembling from adrenaline, from fear. Nicky reached for Joe's hand and held it in a vice grip. They could see the disappointment clearly in her eyes as she heaved herself off the floor, tucking the gun into the back of her jeans. "Get back to sleep boys." Her tone of voice reminded them of a failed mission as she staggered for the bathroom.

______

 

Nile looked between the lovers, then out of the window to see Booker and Andy. She held a reassuring smile on her face to quell his tears. She could tell that they were going to split up; Booker would have to craft his own path, a consequence of his treachery that harboured a pure goal at heart. "She'll make it into a bedtime story when she's ready, or perhaps you'll dream about it." Nicky chided, throwing Nile a half-grimace smile. She really had to give it to Nicky's welcoming nature for the instant comfort she felt.

____

Andy's arm acted as a barricade at the doorframe, being the first to step past the threshold of their safehouse, stilling the rest of them.

 

"Someone's here." She kept her voice low, only audible to the ones behind her, her eyes left the haphazardly rolled-up mat by the doorway. Her gaze sweeping the darkened room, the shadows that drove up the walls made it all the more unsettling.

 

There was nothing, not even a whisper of wind from the window left ajar, but her hand readied on her gun, another hand reaching into the house at an awkward angle to slap the light switch on.

 

Light bathed the room in a blink, the darkness shrinking away to the corners. The hasty shuffle they heard then was unmistakable. Andy drew out her gun in an instant, the others following suit.

 

She zeroed in on the root of the noise, making a daring step onto the wooden floorboards despite Nile's less-than-erupting protest.

 

"You two keep watch." And Joe disappeared past the doorframe, Nicky's demurring trailing behind him.

 

Nile scrambled to the edge of the doorway; she had Andy and Joe at the corner of her eye now as they crept further into the house. She held her breath as Andy rounded the corner, bracing for a gunshot, a scream, something other than the heinous silence that was ceasing her breath, ladened on their shoulders and squeezing their throats.

 

She forced a breath in, adamantly staying calm even though she was anything but that. Then Andy said a name she didn't know, the silence perforated, Joe sprinting away from her view and Italian words were churning out of Nicky as he stepped past Nile and right into the house, his eyes wide as he shoved his gun back. Nike was compelled to follow without a word, her feet fast, gun pointed towards the floor by her thigh. Her heart beating fast in her chest at the urgency of others.

 

But it didn't need to last when she saw Andy, her arms wound around a silhouette so tightly that she would've thought it was a chokehold if it weren't for the pair of grasping hands pulling the back of her shirt taut.

 

The haste that passed her nerves was replaced with gnawing uncertainty, the feeling of intrusion coming back into her again as she watched Nicky and Joe being pulled into the embrace. Her heart twisted uncomfortably at the feeling, yet she couldn't help but watch as a raw sob escaped from one of you, pulling into each other unyieldingly.

 

When all of you broke apart, she scurried to the nearest couch.

 

She could faintly hear a watery chuckle, a few exchanged words that brimmed with affection and she wondered if she could ever find that kind of connection outside of the formed group. Immortality was the ultimate curse for someone who loved too much.

 

Nicky and Joe appeared in no time, hauling her away from her thoughts. "You should meet her." Joe offered. "The partner." Nicky filled in the spaces and everything seemed to click together too fast for Nile to handle. "What, really? That's the woman in the photo? Andy's wife?" She had to force her voice down from the shock.

_______

 

With Nick and Joe splitting away from the both of you to the girl you didn't know, your lips sought Andy's out. She stumbled backwards from the force, gasping softly before maneuvering you closer by your jaw, her actions tentative yet knowing. It was all familiar when you let half your weight on her, knees trembling as your arms hung around her shoulders. All familiar and fervent, filling yourself with what you missed for the last few decades.

 

She was quiet when you parted, her eyes glazed with affection as her thumb ran rounds from your cheek to your jaw. It was a warmth you had forgotten and arose tears that blurred your vision, your lips cracking into a smile.

 

"I don't think I've been so haunted by someone." You said it with mirth and she let out a scoff of wet laughter.

 

"Shut up with your poetry." She ducked her nose into the crook of your neck; you could feel her smile on your skin, her hand on your jaw dropping to another side of your shoulder as you held her.

 

When the adrenaline fell away, you remembered what you wanted to say during decades where you were manipulated by fear. Fear made you hunger for control and power. But you knew deep down that you couldn't ever be sorry for living that life. It was every human instinct to replace what was lost with something else. So you said so.

 

"I'm not sorry for wanting what I wanted." You whispered and felt her stiffen beneath your fingertips, the weight on your shoulder beginning to lift.

 

"But I am sorry for leaving." You got it out fast before she could look you in the eye and steal your courage, making you swallow your words. "So s- sorry." Your voice broke and you pushed your face into her shoulder with a sudden burst of tears as she rose from yours, catching you in time. "I'm so- I'm so sorry." Your lips twisted with ugly sobs and this time you didn't know if you were apologizing to her or yourself for putting the both of you through this torture.

 

A warmth smoothed over your back, her hand on your shoulder cupping the nape of your neck as her lips pressed against the crown of your head again and again and again. "I have nothing to forgive you for." She said. "But I cannot say the same for the others."

 

You nodded wordlessly in her clutch, tears soaking her sleeve. You laid against the damp fabric, listening to her pulse beating through bone and skin and basked in it, letting your breath level with hers as her fingers weaved through your hair, momentarily scratching your scalp.

 

"Lovebirds, an introduction is needed." Joe's words left you moving apart from each other, her hand finding its place on your waist as yours hung around her shoulder.

 

A girl stepped into your view, her eyes widening, a grin spreading across her lips as Andy became the medium of introduction.

 

"God, you look so much like the photograph!" She spilled with wonder tinted in her features. "I mean it's like you haven't aged a bit and that photograph was what- 10 years ago?"

 

"Perks of living forever." You glanced at Andy before shaking Nile's hand. "You never age."

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[multifandommilfs]

Cat's Outta The Bag

Pairing: Alex Blake x reader

Wc: 2307

Summary: your relationship with Alex is revealed when you're kidnapped

A/n: based on season 8 because dAng that season was interesting

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It was all a flummoxing blur. One moment you were on the field, listening to Garcia's research, the next you were straying away from your team to the desecrated bodies of the most recent murder, trying to put two and two together. You couldn't do what you intended with a certain someone's gaze lingering on your frame. So much for being professional during work. Alex could never resist you.

You were whirling, smile by your lips, wanting to catch her in the act.

But there was a snap of black before your eyes, the wind shrieking by your ears.

Your vision was dazed as it warped around uselessly. Pain flicked at the back of your head before it multiplied into violent lobs as your vision cleared, sending honed shrieks into your ears, or was it happening the other way round?

You felt the rumble from your throat as you tilted your head back in exhaustion, the nerves tight in your neck from your bowed position.

A snap of white.

You were recoiling violently. Realising too late that your limbs were locked up with the chair. It slammed backward onto the ground. You were out with the light blaring into your face.

_________

It was a beat late before the Alex realised you were missing. Then everyone was reacting. She could see JJ's panic, could hear Garcia's haste as she clattered away at the keyboard for a CCTV footage.

"Morgan, Rossi, scour the area for any evidence. Reid, Blake, you talk to anyone who's been around the area. Kids, joggers, leave no one out. JJ you're with me, we still have a profile to give." It was Hotch's order, and they all took off right on the spot.

___________

It wasn't until the afternoon heat laid onto Virginia that they all filtered back into Quantico, ready to relay all the information they got.

Which was nothing at all.

"Hardly anyone passed by, and the ones that did, saw nothing at all." Blake said, covering up her frustration.

"Well we were at the crime scene, which already means that this area would be more desolate, the Unsub would feel safer to dump the bodies there." Reid supported.

"Not even a paper trail." David gave, Morgan only looked defeated as he shook his head.

"Seems like this is the only lead we got." JJ placed a ziploc bag contained picture of you onto the table.

The room stiffened, Alex could feel hot tears pressing behind her eyes, but she was composed. She had to be, she needed to be on this case to catch that son of a-

"Blake?" It was Hotchner's voice.

She glanced up and blinked a few times. "Sorry, could you.."

"Based on the quality of this photograph. The Unsub is the same as the Unsub who's stalking us." Hotch gave a summary of the discussion Alex missed out on.

"But this is the first abduction." Reid turned to Hotch. "Your picture was the first to be found, this one," he gathered up the bag, "is the second. The order is wrong."

A tear pushed its way down Alex's cheek. She'd lost her grasp, on composure. She shoved it away within a blink, but JJ saw it, of course she did, they were in a room full of profilers.

__________

The bullpen was practically working even though it was past midnight for more than one insisted to stay back, work on ideas, profiling.

At 4 am, soft snores filled the darkened bullpen, only Alex was awake. Her desk lamp basically a nightlight for the others as she worked through the Unsub's replicated murders over and over again, scanned over witnesses statements. There must be something they missed, something crucial, a hint, a taunt, a misstep. It all revealed something.

At 5 am,

The panic of the previous morning ambushed her, of losing you. The temperature rose, her clothes stuck to her skin from sweat. Her heart rang in her ears, and gripped the edge of her desk to quell their tremble. She had pursed her lips, let a few tears slip, glared at the surface and went back to work. She wouldn't let herself obstruct herself from finding you. There wasn't enough time as it is.

_________

In a state of dwam, the bright light was no worse attacking your vision than last time. Your head throbbed like hell. A sharp metallic scent bludgeoning you in the face and you gagged, it was lingering on your tongue but your throat was sore from the prickling dehydration. You couldn't spit and your spite to do so was self-sabotage. You shoved yourself against the restrains, something jangled. Locks.

You strained your neck and midriff. Wincing at the dried blood at your wounds that tore up and flaked. The moment you saw it the hope of escape, you regretted it. 8 locks hooking all the chains together into one fat rope. Sweat slipped down your neck as you gritted your teeth as you righted yourself back onto the chair. Catching a flicker of blinking red dot in front of you. Videotaping never ended well for the victims. Was it the end of your line.?

You thought of Alex, of the team, of your sister and brother and mother and father. Tears needled your dry eyes as you scoured the room from your limited position. Empty blank walls. Two doors you couldn't get to. You realised this time your chair was tied to a water pipe that perforated the middle of the room.

Then the door rattled and creaked open.

_________

"Garcia, you're up."

"As much as I worked my superpowers.. I'm sorry sir I got nothing. The cameras were cut off the moment she left for the vic."

Hotch clenched his jaw. This was going nowhere.

"Alright so this guy's smart, meticulous, organized." Morgan said. "Couldn't be his first ride."

"Or he's trained to do this." Blake garnered the attention of the rest of the team. The atmosphere ladened with stoic anticipation.

"I believe the Unsub is an inside man." Blake began. It was a heavy accusation, but it was the closest shot.

"That's why he's been able to know when and where we were, infiltrate BAU twice. He's a professional in his field, or multiple fields. Biochemistry, tech, possibly more. So we're talking someone who lives in solitude and lacks the socialising skills." No one interrupted her. So she continued.

"The stalking only began after I joined the team, which means he is connected to me through some kind of betrayal and is seeking some kind of revenge."

She took in a well-needed breath and placed her palms onto the table surface."The only event I could think about it is the Amerithrax case."

"Garcia, pull up everyone involved in the Amerithrax case."

"You got it boss." Garcia quipped before strutting out of the room quickly.

Reid swiveled in his chair thoughtfully, but didn't say anything until everyone left the room. He turned to Alex with a look, some kind of revelation twinkling in his eyes "she wasn't involved in the Amerithrax case, she didn't even join the FBI until years later. So if he wanted to get you back for it, why take her instead of you?"

Alex smiled. "I knew you'd fish me out for that." Reid returned her courtesy before he resumed his profiling.

"You two are involved." And Blake gave him an insouciant shrug that told him everything he wanted to know. He grinned.

_______

An hour later, a yellow letter stamped with blazing bold red letters 'CONFIDENTIAL' was placed congruously on Blake's desk. With Rossi's encounter in mind, they got the specialists to get the file open.

No drugs were found. Only tens of thousands of pictures scattered on the desk. You were bounded, blinded, possibly drugged with lacerations, bruises, blood, dirt, grime. Your hair was a mess, the black and white lighting exaggerated your bone structure. There were close-ups, far shots, angled shots.

Alex was blank terrified.

He was punishing her for something she didn't know and for the first time in a long time, she was utterly terrified. Her heart slamming into her chest, her breath shallow and fast as white spots interfered her vision, she sought support on a pillar that had still a clear shot to whatever was happening inside the office she couldn't bring herself to go in.

None of the pictures seemed to carry any hope until the last one. Your pose was different, head slanted to the right instead of to the left. "This was intentional, look at her neck, it's straining." JJ pointed out, showing a rather tough line going down the length of your neck that wasn't present in the rest of the pictures.

"Dead or alive, we are nailing him into the ground." Morgan shoved a fist into the desk, a few photographs sliding off the desk from the impact.

"Guys I found something." Garcia interrupted, coming out of her liar and immediately caught the way Blake stood a distance too far from the only evidence they harboured. Her curiousity piqued, but the time was off putting.

"Okay so I looked into our security cameras. And for the 10 minutes we were in the meeting room. Guess who gets in? John Curtis." A picture of the Unsub popped up on screen behind her.

"An inside man and was also in the Amerithrax case, just like Blake said. He has certs in so SO many fields but now I couldn't care less. He has an address surrounded with land. Grassy, green, land which I've already sent to your cells."

"Thank you Garcia. Let's go."

________

There was a distant whirring, like blades chopping up the air. You groaned into the gag cloth that soaked up the moisture from your lips and mouth, your eyes wanted to tape itself shut. Your voice not as loud as you wanted it to be as you wheezed. You thrashed your legs and pulled at your arms, chest panting and your throat tore as you lurched over and tried to scream.

You would give it to him. To that sorry fuck that thought of everything. No spouse, no kids, no life. He only had his own vengeance but you knew your team were going to find you. They were going to, it's just a matter of time.

But you felt doozed, you need some rest now, at least that's what your brain told you. So you let your lids fall in exhaustion, your head drooping forwards.

________

It was only for a moment before you thought you heard Alex, her voice ringing like bells. Was it her touch you felt? Her hand at your jaw, pulling your hair out of your face.

You peered, brown hair in your face, her irises always enraptured you. Then your vision narrowed, her gaze turned anxious, your eyes wore out again, encasing you in darkness.

An explosion, you jerked, your yelp tore your dry lips, eyes shooting open instinctively as a wave of warmth rolled over you.

The craggy roll of a shopping cart's wheels was what you felt next, your bones were cushioned, soft sheets rumpled beneath you as a commotion around you settled like white noise. A hand reached yours, a familiar face entered your vision, the colour on her face alternating between hues of red and blue, red and blue, red and blue.

It spilled, your tears cold against the night air as they wheeled you, Alex running alongside the stretcher until they towed you into the back of the ambulance. She combed through your hair, careful not to touch the injuries you sustained, her lips a trembling smile as you gave her one back wearily.

The team stood by as they watched your embrace. A bit spooked at Blake's affection even though word spread quick within the team of your relationship. They watched, soft smiles making way onto their face as Blake held your hand in a vice grip, though her touch was surprisingly tender.

She pressed the back of your hand against her cheek as she let out a choked sob as your nails glided lightly beneath her cheek. For a linguist, she was out of words.

___________

You remembered when you first started out in the industry. Someone had said to you, once an agent, always an agent. You didn't really register those words until you were stuck at home during the recuperation period, antsy to leave the house when it was what got you stuck in the first place.

On the second week, Alex had the honour of telling you that John Curtis died in the explosion, painfully, with his skin ripped off his bones. You hadn't felt lighter since then.

You hit the 3 weeks mark before you returned to Quantico. Riding that elevator, with the weight of your bag slung over your shoulder, your work jacket never felt so unfamiliar.

The elevator glided to a stop, doors opening then a clap!

A flurry of multicoloured ribbons floating down on your head as the team cheered. "Welcome back!"

You blew a ribbon out of your face, lips brimming with smiles at the familiar faces who ambushed you into a hug the second you crossed into the threshold. "I missed you guys."

"We missed you too!" Garcia grinned, voice quivering as she swiped at her eyes. "And also you owe us a kiss for your rendezvous!" She quipped.

"Yeah I thought we were friends." Morgan jested.

"Really?" You laughed, seeing the team's eyes on both you and Blake expectedly, Garcia wiggling her eyebrows as you groaned.

"Come on guys, at least ask how I'm doing."

Alex only shrugged, a fond mirth playing on her lips. "I had no part in this, but the cat's outta the bag and we gotta pay for it."

You had rolled your eyes in defeat and amusement, but indulged them either ways.

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