#robbery cw

[exo-meme-ories]

TW robbery?? I guess???

Anyway, one of my friends used to know the code to my apartment. So they would 'break in' when I wasnt home, eat my snacks, and then leave notes like "Btw you're out of ricecrispies :) please get more". THIS IS MY APARTMENT. GET OUT. It was funny asf tho, and I got used to it over time.

fjfkjfnfnfng

[wardogsong]

"who did this to you?"

marine down! || no longer accepting

"Couple'a assholes wanted my wallet." Life in the city is just like that sometimes. Or so Frank abuses the half-myth, half-truth. Petty crime is way down in New York, courtesy of the uneasy joint efforts of the law and the good guys on the other side of the law who pitch in too. Still, it happens just enough to be believable as an excuse for the calling card of his own night work painted all over his face. "I ain't feel like cancellin' all my cards an' shit. Go to the DMV for new ID? Fuck that. I'd rather trade blows. So we went a few rounds."

As proof of his victory, Frank goes digging in his back pocket and pulls out said wallet to flash at Alex with a rogueish grin. "Worth it. I fuckin' hate goin' to the DMV." Just like that he tucks it away again, satisfied that he's successfully sold his story to the poor neighbor lady who probably had a heart attack just innocently turning a corner only to run into his ass looking all tuned up and shit. "Just gonna head inside now, put some ice on this shit, stop bleedin' all over the hallway before they fine me for it or somethin'. You watch yourself, yeah?"

[peeta-mellark]

HOPE & LANDON LEGACIES 4x20 "Just Don't Be A Stranger, Okay?"

[the-berf]

The Beef wasn't exactly in the best location in the city. Sure, there was decent footfall but there was also a turf war and they were on the clash line. In a way it was inevitable that someone would take one look and decide it was the kind of place that could be robbed.

"Hand over your money and nobody gets hurt."

Richie almost laughed until he looked up and saw a gun pointed at him. Palms up to placate, he raised his eyebrows.

"Well fuck me, you're serious. You sure you want to do this?" The safety clicked off and Richie cleared his throat. "Sure. I hope you like disappointment. Let me just-" a hand slowly lowered to the till. "-get you all...uh...fifty three dollars and, heh, sixty-nine cents."

The robber stared at him, incredulous. "That seriously all you got?"

"Post-covid, most people pay card, you know?"

"Don't shit me. Where's your safe?"

Of course Carmy had to stick his stupid nose into things in that very moment. He took in the scene with almost amusement until the gun was levelled at him. Then his face shuttered off, blank and tight.

"Yo. Why you threatening my cousin?" The robber's hand wavered as Carmy approached and stood firmly in front of the counter, shielding Richie with his own body. "Are you seriously trying to rob us?"

"Get me to your safe. Now!"

Leaning in, arms crossed over his chest and cocky, Carmy was almost gleeful to reply, "No."

Richie half expected the gun to go off. Instead, the robber spun it and pistol whipped Carmy who staggered under the blow, trying to catch himself on the counter. Rather than rally, he sank down into a boneless heap as he lost consciousness.

"Shit." Richie peerer over the counter. "Cuz?" No response. "Carmen? Cousin? You good?" In the silence he looked up at the robber. "The fuck you do that for? Did you kill him?!"

The robber turned and ran, leaving Richie to vault over the counter as he rushed to Carmy's side. Thank fuck he was breathing.

"Can I get some hands here!" He yelled, trusting someone, anyone, to come help. Sure enough, Tina appeared a moment later and was sent running for ice. She returned with that and Syd in tow.

"Who's the first aider here?"

To Syd's question Tina pointed at Carmy. Of course it had to be him.

"Some jagoff pistol whipped him. Don't think that's covered in any course." Richie pressed the ice to where Carmy had been struck and he could have cried in relief that it seemed to help bring him round. That relief didn't last long though because the groan turned into a squirm then it was a matter of trying to help flip Carmy so he didn't choke on his own puke. Once he seemed done, eyes blinking against the lights, Richie leaned over him to get a good look.

"Cousin?"

"Fuck." Maybe Carmy was better than expected, if he responded in such a Carmy-like way. Except his eyes were looking around, squinting but his breath hitched. "Wha-? Why? Mikey's gonna kill me."

Heart squeezing, Richie was saved from having to try and reply by Syd butting in.

"Hey Carmy. How you doing?"

Blinking hard, Carmy obviously had trouble focusing. But that was probably the least of their worries when the next question out of his mouth was, "Who the fuck are you?"

"Oookay." Syd leaned back. "Is that weird? Because that's weird to me."

Only expletives crossed Richie's mind. They needed Carmy comfortable and out of the public eye in order to figure out what was going on. Nodding to himself, he came up with a plan on the fly.

"Syd, close up. Carmen, I'm going to take you to the office. Tina, call Nat then help Syd."

"No!" The protest was near panicked from Carmy and he groaned, hand going to his head which was probably pounding. "He can't see me. He'll kill me. Said I was banned."

There were only so many times Richie's heart could be ripped from his chest. He couldn't handle telling Carmy the truth about Mikey. Couldn't bear the idea of seeing him learn the truth again. So he lied. Lied to protect them both.

"It's his day off. He'll never know. Don't you worry."

Scooping Carmy up, he groaned. For all appearances, his cousin sure was compact. Thankfully the route to the office had been cleared and Richie deposited him on the couch. At the telling groan, he put the trashcan next to Carmy for good measure.

"Thanks. How's Tiff?"

Just when Richie thought things couldn't get worse, they did. He needed to stop being such an optimist about how much lower the bar could get. Bending the truth by omission, he cleared his throat.

"Good. She's good. You?"

The hollow laugh from Carmy was answer enough but he deigned to add words. "Banned from the family restaurant no matter what I achieve. Mikey won't pick up the phone anymore. Sugar keeps telling me to call Mom. I live for the moment service finishes so I can go for a smoke. So yeah, great."

Talking was good, right? Richie had a vague recollection of not letting people sleep if they hit their head. Or was it when they took certain drugs? He'd be fucked if he could remember.

Thankfully the office door clicked open and Nat stepped in. Richie wished he hadn't been watching Carmy. Emotions flashed over his face as Nat's appearance triggered memories. Disbelief, horror, grief, misery all followed in quick succession. At least he had the presence of mind to grab the trashcan to hurl into. Not that there was much to come up other than a bit more pepto.

"Oh Carm." Nat perched gingerly on the couch and rubbed his back.

All of a sudden, Richie felt like he was intruding. This was a moment between siblings and he was nothing more than an interloper.

Looking up, Carmy's eyes were large and watery. Whether from throwing up or the onslaught of emotions at remembering Mikey's death was neither here nor there. However, it gave Richie the perfect view of mismatched pupils and he cursed under his breath. They needed to get Carmy to hospital.

[lily-janus]

Closer Than Before

Summary: Virgil comes back to find his apartment trashed and calls the police... but he didn't expect to have a history with the cop that arrived...

Pairing: post-romantic anxceit

Warnings: swearing, panic attacks, robbery.

Word count: 1,771

I'm late but this is my fic for the first day of @tss-anxceit-week Close & Distant, hope you like it!

---------------------------------------

Virgil froze as he entered his apartment.

Clothes thrown on the floor.

Window shattered.

Drawers half open.

Everything's just a big mess.

This wasn't how he left it when he left for work… he… he'd been…

Robbed.

As the realization sank in, so did the panic. His breathing became hitched, his heart pounding in his chest like a caged animal trying to break loose, spots decorating his vision.

He shakily tried to take deep breaths as he reached for his phone and dialed 911.

He could barely get the words out through his panicked panting to explain what happened and tell them his address, and then they hang up.

And now he has to wait.

It felt like years passed when he finally heard the sirens and rushed out of the building to greet the cops.

But he definitely was not prepared to see an achingly familiar face coming out of the police car.

He barely had time to turn his back and pull his hood tight over his face before… he spotted him.

The universe must truly hate him.

Like, seriously? What are the odds, out of all the cops in the city… Why him?

"I take it you're the resident of the robbed apartment?" He said in his usual smooth voice.

Without turning to face him, Virgil nodded.

"Okay…" he said slowly, "I'm going to need your name and a list of everything that went missing."

Fuck, fuck, fuck… this is so bad…

Why him? Why him? Why HIM?

"Not much of a talker are you?" The teasing, followed by the familiar chuckle, and Virgil's sure his eyebrow is raised too. "That's too bad for you cause I can't help unless you cooperate. I promise I won't bite."

God he can hear his smirk behind the words… some things never change…

A warm hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, I know this is scary, but it's going to be okay, I'll do everything I can to help you. I just need you to work with me, alright?" And then… gentleness, so unexpected, so sweet… so needed.

With a long sigh, Virgil took off the hood and turned around to his ex's shocked face.

"Hey Janus…"

…

3 years ago

Virgil heaved a sigh as he dialed his boyfriend's number.

…and another when it went to voicemail for the 4th time.

He was sitting on the flat armrest of their couch, hugging his knees to his chest, staring at his phone as tears blurred his vision, 2 hours after Janus said he'll be home.

He's fine, he's fine, he's… he has to be fine…

Virgil knows Janus' job as a cop can have emergencies pop up that can delay him but… he can at least shoot him a quick text, he knows how easily Virgil's thoughts spiral.

He perks up when the door to their flat finally swings open to reveal his tired, but undoubtedly satisfied, boyfriend.

"You won't believe what happened!" Janus started as he closed the door behind him, "we got this random call that turned out to be just the clue we were missing and then… what's wrong?" Janus stopped, at last noticing Virgil's tear-stained face.

Virgil said nothing as he held up his phone to show the 4 missed calls, "I… I didn't know where you were… you didn't say anything I thought…" a choked sob cut him off and he wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand.

"Hey… I'm fine, see?" Janus said in that gentle tone of his that usually had Virgil melting… but not this time.

"A quick text is too much to ask? A small 'hey babe I'll be home late, don't stay up'? Is that really so hard? How am I supposed to know what's going on if you won't tell me?" Virgil hated how shaky his voice was right now but he was still recovering from the hours of imagining every worse-case scenario.

"Look, I'm sorry, there was so much going on I completely forgot I-"

Virgil held out his hand to stop him, "don't… just… don't, I can't do this anymore…"

Janus swallowed, voice wobbly as he asked, "what are you saying?"

Virgil stood up, not meeting Janus' eyes, "you clearly care more about your job than me… so lets spare you needing to choose… it's over, Janus, we're done." He turned his back to him, fresh tears streaming down his face as he walked out.

"Wait! That's not true!" Janus pleaded, grabbing his hand desperately, "please… give me another chance, I swear I'll do better!" His voice cracked.

Before he could lose his nerve, he shook free of Janus' grip, "you're out of chances…"

…

Now

"Virgil…"

Virgil couldn't read Janus' tone as he said his name, his voice full of emotion he couldn't place.

He wrecked a hand through his hair, "well… this is awkward…" he chuckled uncomfortably.

"You… you look good, I mean… you look like you're doing good… not that I don't think you look good good but um.." Janus mumbled then let out a sigh, "it's nice to see you." He finally said, giving him a small smile.

Virgil just shrugged, trying to ignore his pounding heart, "still a cop?" He half stated, half asked.

"What? This?" Janus gestured to his uniform, "nah, it's just a costume."

Virgil was surprised to find himself chuckling, making Janus smile at the sound. He always had a knack for making Virgil laugh.

Janus cleared his throat, "so um… you were robbed?"

The question brought Virgil back to the present and images of his trashed apartment flooded his mind.

His panic from earlier made a comeback as well. He was robbed. Someone snooped around his personal space, stole his things!

"Virgil? Hey, deep breaths okay? I promise it's not as bad as it seems just… breathe with me alright?" Janus took him by the shoulder, taking deep breaths to demonstrate and Virgil did his best to follow his lead…

Just like old times…

"There you go, now why don't you show me your place so me and my team can search the scene of the crime?" Janus said gently and Virgil nodded, anxiety still spiraling but at least he was breathing now.

The next few hours were a blur of Virgil watching the cops work and answering their questions and, before he knew it, it was just him and Janus again.

"Okay so, we'll check the security cameras to see if they got a glimpse of the robber and I'll contact your insurance so you'll get your money back for the TV they stole and the damadge to the apartment" Janus said, checking things off his list before closing his notebook and offering him a smile. "Everything's going to be okay."

Virgil breathed a sigh of relief, feeling himself finally calming down, "thanks." He said lamely.

"So um… how've you been? It's… been a while…" Janus asked hesitantly.

"Don't you have work to do?" He intended it as a genuin question but it came out snappier than he meant, probably reminding Janus the main reason they broke up.

Janus breathed out sharply, nodding, "okay, yeah, I deserved that."

There was an awkward pause after that that seemed to stretch for hours but was probably only a few minutes.

"I've… been good." Virgil said slowly, "got a pretty good gig at a nearby pet store, pays well enough and my boss is obnoxiously sweet." Virgil said with a slight smile as he remembered Patton's freckled face smiling at him, "I guess that makes sense, given the fact he literally owns a puppies and kittens business." Virgil added, before briefly looking at Janus.

"How about you?"

Janus chuckled nervously, toying with something familiar on his wrist that Virgil didn't notice up until now.

His voice was thick when he asked, "you're still wearing it?"

Janus' cheeks flushed a deep red as he looked down at what his hands were doing, playing with the bracelet Virgil made him for his birthday back when they were dating. "I… never took it off.." he admitted, the red on his cheeks deepening.

Virgil felt an ache in his chest, "I'm sor-"

"Don't," Janus shook his head, "you were right… I was a total jerk to you… I didn't have my priorities straight back then." He explained.

"And, to answer your question, I'm doing pretty well too. I'm pushing to get a promotion soon which would hopefully let me have more control over my hours so I can spend more time with Logan." Janus answered, his voice going soft on the name.

Virgil raised an eyebrow, "Logan? Who's that?"

Janus cleared his throat, "no one! Really!" He added when he saw Virgil's skeptic look.

Virgil chuckled, "if you say so Lover Boy." He laughed harder when Janus flushed once again at the nickname.

This was… this was going surprisingly well. Sure, it was a bit awkward at first but… he forgot how easily it felt to just.. Be, when he was with Janus, regardless of the nature of their connection.

And he was also relieved that he didn't seem to hold on to the same feelings he felt before towards Janus.

"I missed you." Virgil was surprised to find himself saying that, knowing it was true.

Janus flashed him his signature smirk, "couldn't stop thinking about me huh?"

Now it was Virgil's turn to blush, "you wish… Though I did have a thought or two about all those hoodies you stole from me."

Janus pretended to be offended, "you gave those to me!"

"I let you borrow them because you kept whining about how cold you were every time we were going out." Virgil corrected with a smirk of his own.

"Well sucks for you, I have no idea where they are." Janus insisted, tone still playful.

"Liar." Virgil snorted.

They smiled at each other when Janus' phone suddenly rang.

He shot Virgil a regretful look before going to the side and answering, coming back after a few minutes.

"Sorry but… I gotta go now." He said through a sigh.

Virgil shrugged, "that's fine… it was… nice to see you too, Jan."

The use of the familiar nickname seemed to light up Janus' face, "yeah… I'm glad I came here." He turned to leave.

"And hey, don't be a stranger, alright?" Virgil shot him a small smile when he turned around, his expression a mixture of relief and surprise.

"I won't… and, you have my number… I'll see you soon." And with that, he finally left.

They were never going to go back to the way they were… but maybe this was better, healthier…

Closer…

[isimbecauseofreasons]

I don't know if Knox had some sort of connection to the GMs in Willow Creek but it seemed like he brought bad vibes with him when he came to visit. Another armed robber turned up while he was visiting Ariella.

Luckily the police showed up quite quickly and the robber was, once again, taken away. But this event already set in motion things no one saw coming ...

[trinoxtrinox]

Stopping a robbery

Ectoberhaunt 2022, Side Order. Prompt: Freeze

Summary: “Freeze!” screamed a cop who was waiting outside a convenient store. Just because there are ghosts present in Amity Park now it doesn’t mean that there isn’t any crime left, only murders have stopped, not anything else.

Content Warning: Cops, weapons and an armed robbery.

Author's note: I'm not from USA so where I live not ACAB and thus I don't write them like that :V

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Ghost attacks made the crime in Amity Park almost non-existent, no one wants to accidentally kill someone and create a new ghost with a penchant for revenge after all, and thus all the crimes in the city have been reduced to only the small stuff that could be ignored or solved with a fine and a few weeks in jail, which by the way has been emptied from all of their killers in order to take them away to other jails outside of the city; in this case they are extremely dangerous and who knows what they’d do in order to find how far they can go before they create a ghost.

This however doesn’t mean that crime is non-existent, it just means that the police of Amity Park can have the luxury of taking it slowly when dealing with humans, stuff outside of robberies and drug dealings weren’t done enough to warrant more than a few cops being active in the center of the city. On the edges of Amity Park however? That’s another story.

“Freeze!” Screamed a cop as she stood at the entrance of a gas station, pointing her gun at the robber who had a knife to the throat of the worker there, using him as a human shield. Grabbing her radio, the cop talked to it without losing sight of the people inside the store, “I’ve got a hostage situation at the gas station on the eastern border of Amity, send some reinforcements and keep an ambulance on standby.”

“Roger that, reinforcements on the way and ambulances getting ready, how’s the situation?” The operator from the other side asked, the volume of the radio thankfully low enough that the criminal present wasn’t able to hear anything of the conversation.

“What are you saying!? Leave that radio alone this instant if you want to keep this guy unscathed.” Ordered the robber, flailing his knife around and making all the other two people present all the more nervous.

“P-please help me.” Cracked the voice of the worker that was used as a hostage, wishing nothing more than to be rescued from his predicament.

“If only Phantom wasn’t busy right now.” Murmured to herself the cop, lamenting the fact that only a few minutes ago there was a report of a ghost battle going on between Skulker, Technus and Phantom in the center of the city, and thus their ghostly help would be unavailable for the foreseeable few minutes. “Alright, let’s calm down for a moment and talk things through-” the cop loosened her grip on her gun and pointed upwards, removing her finger from the trigger, “-my name’s Susan, what do I need to do in order for you to let the hostage go?”

“Well Susan, what I want is for you to leave me alone and for me to leave with the money. I don’t think that’s much to ask, right?” The robber said, taking a few steps closer to the register with the hostage still in tow. “Now finish putting the money inside the bag.”

“Y-Yes sir.” Trembled the voice of the guy as he begun putting what little money there was left in the register before Susan entered the gas station and interrupted them

“Reinforcements ETA 2 minutes, think you can hold on until then Susan?” The operator on the other side asked, and while cursing internally, Susan began taking a few steps back.

“I can let you take the money and run, but I hope you understand that I’ll run after you once that happens.” replied truthfully the girl, true, that might’ve not been the best thing to say, but she couldn’t simply say that she’d let him go and be done with it, that would’ve been suspicious

“Well then, I guess I’ll just have to delay you a bit, won’t I.” The way that the robber said that sent chills down the spine of both the register worker as well as Susan, and before she could point the gun back at the robber, he stabbed the worker in the thigh and began running as Susan jumped over to his side in order to inspect the wound.

“Susan here, the robber is escaping. I’m here inside the gas station with the worker who has been stabbed in the thigh, I need the ambulance ASAP.” She reported through the radio while checking out how deep the cut was in the thigh of the worker. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine in no time, only some stitches and you’ll be able to walk out with just a crutch.”

“Agh, thanks officer.” he replied while keeping down his moans of pain, clutching onto Susan tightly as well.

“Understood Susan, reinforcements have arrived and are reporting that they’ve managed to arrest the robber before a persecution was made. The ambulance should arrive in a minute.” Reported back once more the operator, this time bringing with themselves some good news.

“Thanks for the info, Susan over and out.” And with that she finally left her radio behind and kept her whole focus back on the worker beside herself, who was now leaning against the wall as he remained sitting on the floor. “You heard that? The guy was caught already, once you’re released from the hospital you should be able to leave this whole experience behind.”

“Yeah, thanks officer.” And with that the ambulance finally arrived at the gas station, taking with themselves the youth that was working there and letting him be stitched.

Crime in Amity Park was almost non existent, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t there, only that it was limited by the ones that were petty at most, and then there were the ones that were done by outsiders, which usually only affect the border of the city, hence why there’s more patrols done over there than in the insides of the city.

[sweetlittlevampire]

Someone cornered my mother right in front of our door, asking if she could change some money for some smaller bills. They then proceeded to follow my mother into the house while I was changing upstairs and wouldn't stop bothering her until I appeared.

And now she's angry with me because I got upset. "I overreacted; it was a nice guy, and nothing happened. Don't be so dramatic."

That was a six foot guy we both don't know. My mother and I are both five foot. She's physically disabled and weighs nothing. I was half naked. She thinks she is tough, and mentally she might be, but she's been diagnosed with MS in 1994 and showed symptoms as early as 1983. She needs a walking aid to walk - she should know that her body is not as strong anymore as it once was.

Dude was only able to get in because she left the door wide open and didn't throw him out when he came in, but actually proceeded to wait for him to leava again. How could I not be upset about this?! Especially with her being a CSA survivor and break-ins happening in the neighbourhood as of late.

I think what hurts me most is her complete disregard for other people in the house.

"I thought you were still asleep!" - as if that would have stopped him from coming upstairs and hurting me if he really had wanted to. Being asleep doesn't make me invisible.

I am so mad I don't know what to do with myself. Am I overreacting?

[thatsprettylane]

Me, getting robbed: can you like beat me up a little so my dad feels bad for me? Like not a lot, I just want him to say I love you.

[ochrebones]

Komik

Of Marissa and yn

Spoilers for sposre parts

Two for robbery and such

And rapidly decreasing quality

[fletcherwilbury]

@febuwhump Day 10: Killing in Self-Defense

Warning for Illness, respiratory issues, injury, faking injury, robbery, attempted murder, murder, minor character death

[peachsukii]

Okay I’m back I’m sorry your writing is like cocaine to me idk you’re awesome-

Bakugou x reader where they’re on a mission and it involves a teams of heroes to dress up like Dynamight to confuse the enemy??? Just like Bakugou’s reaction to seeing his girlfriend decked out in his gear like 😭😭😭

but like picture like reader trying to fit Bakugou into a version of her costume too-

Ohkay I’m going even further now- Bakugou and reader wearing formal wear modeled after each other at a Hero’s gala to debut their relationship to the world???? I can just imagine after the mission they just really like wearing each other’s stuff-

Anyways you’re amazing have an amazing day!!

I’m so so sorry this took me so long to get to! You’re the sweetest!! 🥰 thank you so much for rec and coming back! I’ve enjoyed the ideas you’ve suggested so much and hope you like this one. 💖✨

Substitute Gear

『 ♡』  k.bakugo x fem!reader ꒰ pro-hero au | age 24 | lovers (bf/gf) ꒱ ⇢ bakugo and reader are joking around in their apartment one night when they decide to try on each others costumes! this leads to a fun inspiration for the upcoming hero gala as their agencies recommend for them to reveal their relationship officially. Why not do it in style?

꒰ tags & warnings ꒱ no cw minus cursing | fun & fluffy ꒰ cross posted to ao3 | wc; ~1.1k ꒱ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist

“Ugh, what an ugly shift,” you complain as you’re walking through the front door of your apartment. You’re kicking off your dirty boots in the entryway when Katsuki comes to greet you.

“Long day?” He asks, analyzing how filthy your hero suit is. It doesn’t stop him from giving you a light peck on the lips to welcome you home.

“More like what didn’t happen today. A kid threw up on me, and when I washed that off, some asshole bled all over me when I cuffed him! To top it all off, I tripped and fell into the mud while in pursuit of a robbery. Head first!”

As you’re rattling off the laundry list of shitty things that happened during the day, Katsuki’s silently instructing you to take the suit off. He spins you around, unzipping the neck piece and carefully removing all of your components and accessories.

“I broke my damn helmet in that fall,” you groan, wiping dried dirt from your cheek.

“Better than your head, dumbass,” Katsuki counters. “Ya got extras, no use cryin’ over one of ‘em.”

You shimmy the suit off of your shoulders and pull out of the material one limb at a time.

“You’d think as heroes, there’d be a professional laundry service or something,” you complain, letting your suit crumple on the floor. It comically puffs out a dried cloud of grime.

Katsuki stifles a laugh. “Weird way of sayin’ I do all your laundry. Get your ass in the shower, you reek.” He smacks your barely-covered ass to get you moving, continuing to snicker to himself as you waddle down the hallway.

───

After a long and hot shower, you emerge from the bathroom with a dramatic haze of steam following you.

“Ya done yet, peach? Dinners done,” Katsuki calls from the kitchen, dishes clattering as he’s prepping plates for the two of you. You scamper down the hall to meet him in the kitchen, a delicious aroma filling your senses when you approach the stove. He hands you one of the plates of beef and peppers stacked high on a bed of rice.

“Mmm, you even made me extra peppers!” You chirp, flashing him a cheesy smile. He grins in response and slips past you to sit on the couch.

The news channel is droning in the background during dinner, the news anchors excitedly discussing the upcoming annual Hero Gala - the glitz and glamour side of it, anyways. The Gala itself is an enormous event to celebrate Japan’s hero society and to announce the year’s hero ranking; however, everyone treats it as one extravagant event, red carpet and all.

“I’ve never been to the gala before,” you say before taking another mouthful of rice. “I never qualified to attend until this year. I’m kinda nervous to be…debuting us, if I’m being honest.”

Your agencies had caught wind of your relationship - rather, Katsuki’s assistant accidentally caught you two kissing in his office - and wanted to use you as an opportunity to introduce the “new hottest hero couple.” Agencies care about appearances and tabloid drama just as much as actual hero work. What's hotter than a top hero dating a lower - much lower - ranked hero?

The gala is in two weeks and the two of you haven't settled on what to do about it.

“Th’ agencies wanting to use us as an attention grab is fuckin’ stupid," Katsuki mumbles, brows scrunched in frustration. "Who gives a shit who we're dating? Doesn't affect my ability ta do my job."

He had a point, of course, but that didn't make you any less nervous about it. You were being pressured to have an extremely public date and let "fans" know that Dynamight was off the market. The thought of fans metaphorically bashing your head in wasn't ideal, but whatever gets "ratings," right?

"We might as well just show up in each others' costumes," you joke, rolling your eyes as the news anchor shifts topics to the latest update on another nonsense story.

"That's...not a bad idea!" He shouts, putting his plate on the coffee table and excitedly jogging down the hall to the bedroom. "Where's your backup suit?"

"In the closet, why? There's no way your muscular ass is getting in that tight suit."

"No, dumbass! C'mere!"

You place your plate next to his and get up from the couch, waltzing to the bedroom to see what he's on about. Both your hero suit and his are laying on the bed next to each other.

"What if we swapped colors?" He asked, pointing to the suit designs. "You wear mine and I wear yours. That'll give the media somethin' to yap about."

That's actually...a brilliant idea! The media would absolutely eat up the "bad boy" Dynamight strutting into the gala with his partner's color pallet, especially because your colors were pinks and purples.

You raise an eyebrow to him, smirking as you begin to imagine him in a sharp pink and purple suit. "You do look good in pink, the few times you've worn it."

Katsuki cackles and winks at you. "Course I do, I make anythin' look good."

He immediately calls his agency to request the garments - they agreed wholeheartedly and offered to fund both outfits.

───

The night of the gala has finally arrived! There are plenty of news crews from all channels present, huddled around the main red carpet entrance. The scene is bedazzled with flashing camera lights, the shutter sounds of multiple cameras capturing photos in tandem. Your complimentary custom outfits are pristine and Katsuki's hand is in yours as the limo pulls up to the gateway, giving you a soft squeeze to gather your attention.

"It'll be fine, sweets. Jus' follow my lead, 'kay?"

You nod while taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. "Thanks babe."

The limo attendant outside skips to the door, opening it for the two of you and ushering you to the entrance. You're both standing in line behind other heroes awaiting their turn to enter the building, attention already building in your direction. A few minutes go by before one of the hosts motions for the two of you to proceed to the entrance.

Your heart is racing, threatening to burst right through your ribcage as the hot spotlights are covering the two of you. Cameras are flashing rapidly, waves of unintelligible shouting invading your senses - "Dynamight! Over here, look this way!" "Just one this way, you two!" "To the left, please!"

Katsuki's jaw is tense as his eyes are roaming around to satisfy multiple camera men, the resting glare he normally sports on patrol adoring his features. Your attempting to keep a soft smile, posing and waving gently. Suddenly, you're tugged into Katsuki's side, his hand leaving yours and wrapping around your waist, pulling you into his personal space. He spins you to face him, cupping your chin and dipping you backwards as his lips grace your own, holding you in place.

The world around explodes with surprise, the peanut gallery clamoring with questions about the two of you - "Are you two an item?" "Oh! A higher ranked hero and a brand new one!" "What a scandalous amount of PDA!"

When you part, he pulls you back to his side and keeps his hand on your waist while the two of you continue into the gala together. The paparazzi outside are tailing the two of you as they're stopped at the door, shouting for answers as he flips them off over his head.

"Told ya it'd be fine. Now let's fuckin' eat and enjoy the damn night."

thanks again for the suggestion @queenpiranhadon ! ✨

[froggibus]

Hi!

I saw your requests were open so I was wondering if I could request the Batboys with an s/o who passes out from a fever.

I hope you’re doing well!!

Passing Out From A Fever - Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Wally West

Pairing: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake and Wally West x gn! reader (separately)

Genre: hurt/comfort

Summary: your s/o reacting to you passing out from a fever

Word Count: 1.2k (Dick's), 1k (Jason's), 1.1k (Tim's), 1.1k (Wally's)

CW: sickness/the flu, minor injuries, reader is stubborn and refuses to rest, fainting, established relationship? gn reader but Wally refers to you as a 'damsel in distress', violence + drugs/drug dealers (Jason's) lmk if i missed anything

okok so sorry anon this request is almost 4 months old lmfao. i got a little sidetracked doing other stuff for a while but it is finally here. hope you enjoy it despite how delayed it is

--

Dick 

Dick looks at the numbers on the digital thermometer with a sigh. “Your temperature’s only going up.”

“Is that a bad thing?” You try to joke but your whole body aches, your skin is feverish and clammy, and your head spins every time you open your eyes.

He looks at you seriously, giving you the signature Dick Grayson disappointed older brother, team leader look.

“I take it no patrol tonight?”

He rests his hand on your thigh. “Not a chance in hell.”

“I figured as much,” you grumble.

“I’ll stay in with you tonight,” he insists, giving your leg a squeeze. “We can watch a movie or something. I’ll even let you choose.”

You let out a deep breath, leaning back and resting your head against your cold bed frame. His offer is tempting—it's not often he stays home during the evening. “Okay,” you nod your head slowly. “We’ll stay in tonight.”

He beams at your decision, planting a chaste kiss to your forehead before jumping up and leaving you in your bed. “I’ll be back in an hour, alright?”

You offer a weak thumbs up before relaxing back into your nest of blankets and pillows. It won’t hurt to sleep a little while he’s out, and you are pretty tired. 

— 

You wake up hours later, Dick nowhere to be seen. Your whole body feels like it’s been set on fire and beat with a baseball bat, but you still struggle out of bed to go find your boyfriend. Of course, he’s nowhere to be seen. 

You narrow your eyes, a sinking feeling in your chest because you know exactly where he is. Your hunch is proved right when you open the closet door with shaky hands and see the empty hanger where the Nightwing costume should be. 

What happened to staying in tonight? No patrol?

The thought of him leaving you while you feel this sick lights a fuse in your chest, and before you know it, you’re lazily tugging your own suit over your limbs. The suit only makes you feel hotter, your muscles aching in protest, but you need to see him. 

By some miracle, you manage to stumble your way across Gotham in the dead of night while dealing with an extremely high fever and body aches. 

Still, your boyfriend is nowhere in sight. You followed the trail of beaten thugs and failed robberies straight to the centre of the city, but Nightwing wasn’t there. You feel slightly woozy, your knees shaking below you. 

Your phone buzzes in your back pocket and you take it out, the writing blurry on the small glowing screen. You squint but the letters spin on the screen, and you can’t seem to make them out. 

In fact, when you look up from the screen, the whole world is spinning. Your head feels impossibly heavy, and suddenly your body is pitching forwards. 

————

Dick knows he’s fucked when he gets home and you’re nowhere to be seen. He sees the open closet door and the empty hanger where your costume should’ve been, and groans. 

If only he had just stayed home like he said. Guilt overwhelms him, but he swallows it back and forces himself to push through. 

You shouldn’t even be out of bed, let alone roaming the city dressed as a vigilante. Dick cards his fingers through his hair and starts to make his way through the city again. 

He assumes you were trying to find him, so he circles back through his usual patrol spots. The longer it takes to find you, the more anxious and guilty he feels. 

It’s all his fault that you’re even in this mess, stumbling through the city sick and disoriented.  

He finds you unconscious on a rooftop, tucked away in a corner, a small cut on your face from what he assumes was the impact. Seeing you like this makes his heart drop and for what feels like a thousand years, he watches you and waits for your chest to rise. He stares, holding his own breath until he finally sees your lungs inflate with air. 

He’s scooping you up in his arms and carrying you back to the apartment in an instant, careful not to jostle you too much. He can feel your feverish skin through your costume, sweat pooling on your forehead and neck. He could set a record for how fast he had you home.  

He changes you out of your suit and into comfortable pjs, patching up the mark on your face and tucking you into bed. He’s always taken care of his younger brothers so he knows just how to take care of you. 

He puts an ice pack on your forehead to keep you from burning up too much and gets water and ginger ale for your nightstand. He knows you’ll need fluids and medicine when you wake up and he wants to be prepared. 

Even after he’s prepared everything and double checked his, his nerves don’t settle. You’ve been out cold for at least an hour, with no sign of waking up. Another hour of this and he’ll have to take you to the hospital. 

He paces the room, eyes never leaving your sleeping figure. Wake up, wake up, wake up. He tries to will you awake, hoping your eyes will open any second and you’ll berate him for leaving you. 

“Dick..?”

His pacing comes to a stop, eyes snapping to yours. “Oh, thank god,” he kneels next to your side of the bed and takes your hand in his. “How’re you feeling?”

As if on cue, you groan in pain. The ice pack he placed on your forehead does little to help with the heat that’s ignited your whole body. Your eyes feel painfully heavy, and all of your muscles feel inflamed. 

He holds a glass of water up to your lips, helping you tip your head back so you can drink some. He pops a couple pills into your mouth and pours some more water in to wash them down. 

“They’ll probably take fifteen minutes to work,” he keeps his voice quiet. “You’ll feel a lot better soon though, I promise. I’ll make sure you’re all better.” 

You nod weakly. “You—you left me…”

Dick’s heart breaks at the sound of your sad, weak voice. He was hoping you wouldn’t dwell on that too much, the reminder that his fuck up for you into this mess weighing heavily on him. 

“I know, baby. And I’m so, so sorry. There was an emergency and I thought I could sneak out quick but,” he sighs and tugs on his hair. “I’m not gonna leave your side until you’re all better, okay? Never again.”

You’re too tired and sick to care for grovelling, you’re just glad he’s here and you don’t have to suffer alone. You reach a hand out to grab his hand and weakly tug him towards the bed. 

Dick obliges, crawling in next to you and letting you rest on his chest. “I’m gonna make you all better, hm? You’ll be all better soon, hun.”

His soothing voice coupled with the circles he traces on your back are enough to keep you content until the medicine kicks in. Then, you’re drifting back to sleep in Dick’s arms, already feeling better from the turmoil of the day

-

Jason 

You think Jason may be the most dense man on the planet. Unlike his father, his detective skills seriously need some work. 

When you woke up this morning with a fever and aches, you were sure you could push through it. It’s just a little cold, or so you thought. As the day turned into night and you got ready for patrol, your symptoms only worsened. 

Your body aches grew worse, your fever grew hotter and your movements got sluggish. Still, you brushed it off. You never miss patrol with Jason, and tonight wasn’t going to be a first. 

“You’re off to a slow start,” he teases. 

You would roll your eyes if you weren’t so tired. “Shut up. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

It’s a total lie, of course. And if he could see the swelling of your glassy eyes or touch your boiling skin, he would know otherwise. Lucky for you, the adrenaline rush Jason gets on patrol creates a kind of tunnel vision that allows him to completely overlook your symptoms. 

You stumble a bit, having to brace yourself against one of the shipping containers. You’re glad Jason shot out all of the street lamps at the old dock, leaving you in perpetual darkness. A perfect cover to hide the pain you’re feeling. 

You take a deep breath and groan, pushing off of the container and running to catch up with him. The friction only makes you hotter, the air being forced from your lungs. Your head spins and black spots crowd your vision, but you take a weak breath and force them away. Now is not the time to be weak. 

Jason tilts his head at you, and you can feel his judging eyes from under the mask. “Seriously, are you okay? Did you get hurt or something?”

“Did you? You’re off your game too, Red.” You try to nudge him teasingly but it just sends a shockwave through your body, your head suddenly pounding. 

He looks like he’s going to say something you don’t want to hear but you’re saved by the bell when an unlucky drug dealer stumbles into view.  Jason is pouncing on him in a minute, leaving you to your thoughts. 

His form gets blurrier the more you watch him fight, and you swear your arms and legs are growing heavier by the second. Your head lulls back and you worry for a minute that you’re going to pass out. 

You manage to catch yourself, pinching your arms to keep yourself aware. It works, but only for a second. You have enough time to make eye contact with Jason before your eyes are rolling back and you’re dropping like a sack of potatoes. 

—

Jason is freaking the fuck out. For a minute, he’s worried you’re injured—or worse. All he saw was your panicked expression before you dropped to the pavement. If he wasn’t so worried, he would have laughed at your lack of grace. 

He makes quick work of the remaining drug dealers, tearing through them with all the anxiety he’s feeling. By the time he’s made it to you, your body is practically on fire. He flinched away at first, not expecting your skin to be as hot as it is. 

“You idiot,” he lifts you into his arms, letting your head hang over his shoulder. “You should’ve just told me you were sick.”

He forces himself to keep his calm demeanour the whole way to the apartment. He doesn’t let himself worry until you’re both changed out of your patrol clothes and into normal, ordinary pyjamas. 

He has you laid down in the passenger seat of his car, his foot pressing heavily on the gas the entire way to the hospital. He knows it’s just a fever, but you fainted. Something could be seriously wrong, and he can’t chance anything. Not with you. 

—

You come to in the hospital, an IV in your arm. It takes a few blinks for you to take in your surroundings, but even then, it’s hard to keep your eyes open. Your throbbing headache does not mesh well with the fluorescent lights. 

“Jason,” your voice is barely a whisper. “Did you take me to the hospital?”

“No shit,” he scoffs. “

You would laugh at his brazenness if you weren’t in so much pain. The scratchy cotton thread of the hospital blankets aren’t enough to keep you warm, and despite being covered in sweat, you’re shivering. 

Jason sighs. “You’re an idiot, you know that? You could’ve just told me you were sick.”

“I-I—,” you can barely speak with how bad you’re shivering. 

Jason’s heart hurts at the sight of you, and despite how frustrated he is with your antics, he climbs into the bed with you and lets you lay against his chest. 

You relax into him, trying to sap his body heat. You know this can’t exactly be comfortable for him, especially considering you’re a million degrees, and it makes you appreciate it even more. 

“You know, I thought about just tossing you in the harbour and calling it a day.”

You let out a weak laugh at that. “I’m sure you did.”

“Okay, maybe not,” he admits, “but if you ever do that to me again, you will be taking an impromptu swim.”

“As you wish, Jay.”

He kisses the top of your head, “get some rest, hm?”

You nod weakly, letting your body sag against his. Just as sleep begins to take you, you mumble, “I love you.”

Jason’s heart flutters at your words. “I love you too.”

-

Tim 

Tim is such a hypocrite.

When he pushes himself to his absolute limit, staying up until he quite literally drops, it’s fine. But god forbid you try to push yourself even the slightest, or there’s hell to pay from your boyfriend.

“Tim, I’m fine,” you insist, narrowing glassy eyes on him.

He raises his eyebrows in annoyance. “You’re not fine, y/n. You’re burning up. You’re so congested you sound like a little kid. You need rest.”

“Rest, schmest. I’m coming with you.”

“Y/n, honey, love of my life…if you try to come with me, I will slip you Nyquil and you will take a nap.”

You maintain your glare. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Maybe I already have,” he shrugs, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. “How was the tea I brought you earlier?”

Your eyes shoot wide and you scramble to inspect the now empty Wayne Enterprises mug. There’s no indication that it looks or smells different from any other tea. You look up again, ready to mock laugh at your boyfriend, but he’s no longer there. 

“Fucking Timothy,” you shake your head. 

He’s been trying to force you to get bed rest all day, refusing to even let you come with him to the grocery store. Sure, you have a fever and you’re congested and your head really hurts,  but that doesn’t mean you have to stay in bed. 

You toss the blankets onto the other side of his bed and struggle your way out of it. The air outside of his bed is cold, forcing goosebumps onto your arms, but you don’t care. You tug on one of Tim’s sweatshirts and stumble your way downstairs. 

He’s gone when you get down there, the only semblance of human life being Alfred sitting at the kitchen table. He’s reading a newspaper, seemingly deep in thought, yet the minute you step towards the front door, he speaks. 

“If you are trying to follow Master Timothy, I would advise against that.”

“I-I wasn’t…how did you know?”

He smiles at you, “Master Timothy expected you would try to follow him, and asked that I make sure you rest.”

“Damn you, Tim.”

“I’ve prepared some water in the kettle and there are blankets on the couch if you’d like to watch a tv show with me?”

“That sounds great, thank you,” you sigh, giving up and trudging your way to the couch. 

You settle in under a blanket, leaning your head against the couch cushion. Alfred comes in a few minutes later with two glasses of tea and a bottle of medicine. 

You thank the man and take a few pills and the mug of tea, swallow down the pills and set the tea on the nightstand. 

Alfred turns on the TV and starts to play one of his English soap operas. The sounds all blur together and you fade in and out of consciousness, every once and a while snapping back to reality when you hear the door unlock. 

Of course, a million people seem to come and go from Wayne Mansion and your boyfriend is nowhere to be seen. Alfred has seemed to doze off as well, his eyes closed and head resting on the couch cushion behind him. 

You stand up from the couch on shaky legs, discarding the blankets next to you. You feel dizzy and lightheaded as soon as you stand up but you persevere. 

You’re not really sure where you’re going, all you know is that you want to see Tim and the first step is getting to the front door. You make it to the front entrance, and you’re only five feet from the door, but your whole body hurts so bad and you’re so tired and everything is so hot and cold. 

You brace yourself on the wall, leaning your whole body weight on it. You blink a few times, trying to keep the black spots from spreading to your vision. Everything overheats, and your muscles start to weaken. Before you can take another step, your body is failing, and your vision is going black.

—

Tim comes home just in time to see you hit the floor. He drops his groceries onto the floor, not even closing the door behind him as he runs to your side. 

“Y/n?” He presses a cold hand to your forehead, “y/n, wake up!”

He gently shakes your shoulders, willing you to wake up and be okay. His family all arrive at once, staring at the two of you on the floor. 

“Why couldn’t you just stay in bed? Dummy.”

He slips his hands under your knees and arms, lifting you off the ground. Your skin is hot to the touch but you’re shivering, sweat rolling down your temples. He carries you back to his room, laying you down in the bed and covering you in blankets. 

He knows rationally that you’ll be okay, that your body was just responding to the exertion you put it through today. But emotionally? He’s freaking out. He can’t help but wish he’d stayed home with you, taken care of you himself, laid in bed with you all day. 

Tim tries to distract himself by bringing up water and medicine and a cold cloth for you, but it does little to calm his nerves. Every minute that it takes you to wake up, he only gets more and more anxious. 

Finally, after almost two hours, your eyes flutter open. Your head is pounding and it’s hard to keep from falling back asleep, but you force yourself to stay awake. 

“Tim?” You call out, your voice even raspier than before. 

“Hey, hey, I’m here,” he murmurs, getting up from his desk and kneeling at your side. “How are you feeling?”

“Bad,” you admit, tears threatening to spill. “Really bad.”

He hands you two pills and a glass of water. “Here, take these, okay?”

You struggle to swallow the pills and water but somehow manage. The pain in your body is enough to bring you to tears and you can only hope that the medicine will kick in soon. 

Tim rubs your forehead with the back of his hand. “You’re burning up…”

“I—will you lay with me? I miss you…”

Tim can only oblige. You just look so cute and so vulnerable with your glassy eyes and clammy skin. He wouldn’t dare say no to you right now. 

He kicks off his jeans and t-shirt, trading them for a pair of sweatpants before settling in next to you. He can feel your body heat even though he’s not touching you, and even though he wants to hold you, he’s not sure if he should. 

“Are you hot or cold?” He asks. 

“Cold.”

That’s all the answer he needs before he tugs you into his chest, holding your body gently to his. He places a small kiss on your forehead and makes a silent vow not to leave your side until you feel better. 

-

Wally

“Are you sure you should be going on this mission?” Wally looks at you seriously. 

“Yes. Why are you even asking?”

He presses a hand to your skin, recoiling when he feels how hot you are. “Jesus, you’re hot.”

“Well, hello to you too.” You roll your eyes. 

“Y/n, you don’t look too good. I don’t think you should be coming along,” he looks at you with genuine concern. “You’re running real hot and that’s coming from me.”

“Wally, if I don’t come along, the whole mission is screwed.”

“I know, I know. You’re so stubborn,” he sighs. “Come along but the minute you start to feel worse, you tell me, alright?”

“Alright.”

He flashes you his signature grin, planting a kiss to your nose. He squeezes your shoulders once, before giving you a half assed salute and taking off at the speed of light. 

You smile after him, but your smile fades once he’s out of sight. Your head is spinning and your whole body feels like it’s on fire. With the way your muscles are aching, you’re not sure if you’ll even be able to finish the mission. 

Still, you have to try. 

————

Going on this mission was a mistake. 

It feels like every floor of the sinister science institute is filled with more and more baddies, tougher ones too. You were beat after the first floor, but now that you’re on the fifth, with three more to go, you’re not even sure if you’ll make it. 

You can hear Wally up ahead, zooming back and forth and taking out any baddies in his way. You know he’s partly doing this for you—trying to clear the floor and make things easier on you. He’d asked you one more time before you entered the facility if you were feeling up to it, and after you insisted you were, he didn’t bother to argue. 

You almost wish he did, though. Your head is spinning, everything hurts and everything is so hot and sweaty. You try to force yourself to stay awake, but even you know your movements are slow and sluggish and you’re a danger to all of your teammates. 

Nightwing is somewhere behind you, insisting there’s an air duct he can sneak through to get to the main lab before they evacuate. A part of you wishes you’d gone with him. At least then you wouldn’t be stuck leaning against a wall, desperately trying to get your bearings. 

You force yourself onto your feet, stumbling down the hall after Wally. You only make it a few steps before your muscles turn to jello and the black spots crowd your version.

You go limp, your mind retreating far, far away. 

Wally turns around just in time to see you go limp, and he’s speeding down the hallway and catching you within a fraction of a second. He doesn’t give you the chance to hit the ground, his arms already under your knees and shoulders, ready to carry you to safety. 

Your skin is hot to the touch, hotter than it was earlier. He shakes his head at you. He knew this was gonna happen. He knew you would push yourself too hard and end up getting yourself hurt. 

He gets you out of the building and into the jet you and some of the other Titans had taken to get there. He hates the thought of leaving you there, but he knows you would never forgive him if he abandoned the team now. 

Still, he only gets more and more anxious the longer the mission takes. The second Dick secures the samples he was looking for, Wally is taking off. He’s got you in his arms, speeding back towards your shared apartment. 

He’s got you home in a matter of seconds, changing you into a pair of his boxers and one of his old t-shirts. He tucks your boiling body into bed, covering you with blankets up to your waist. 

He doesn’t really know how to take care of someone when they're sick. Whenever he was sick as a kid, he would always just eat ice cream and play video games. That, or he would sneak out and go hang out with Dick or Connor. 

But he knows you need more than ice cream and video games right now. 

He decides on grabbing you water and digging through your cabinets to find any medicine that could possibly help. He tries to remember what his mom did for him when he was young, and all he can think of is a cold cloth on his forehead. Still, that’s better than leaving you there to boil to death. 

He lays the cloth gently on your forehead, leaving your water and medicine on the nightstand for when you wake up. 

He changes out of his suit, opting for a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Of course, you’re wearing his favorite t-shirt, but this one will have to do. He settles into the bed next to you, turning on the tv. He tries to keep the volume and the brightness low. 

After what seems like forever, you start to stir. Everything is too bright and hot when you open your eyes, and it has you squirming and crying. Wally is grabbing your hand as soon as you wake up, using his other hand to press the cold cloth into your forehead. 

“Shhh, babe, it’s okay.”

You clench your eyes shut and shake your head. “E-everything hurts so bad!”

He reaches across you for the water and the medicine, holding the glass up to your lips so you can take a sip before popping the pills into your mouth. You gladly swallow them, relaxing slightly at the taste of water. Wally sets the glass on the nightstand, resting his hands on your thighs. 

“I’m sorry for pushing myself so hard…I’m sorry that you had to clean up after me.”

“Aw baby,” he grins at you, but it’s not as wide and carefree as it usually is. “You know how much I love rescuing damsels in distress.”

Classic Wally, trying to make you laugh even when you feel like you’re on your deathbed. He rubs your thighs gently up and down, trying to soothe you. 

“Did the mission at least go okay?”

He kisses you gently, “don’t you worry your pretty little head about the mission, okay?”

He goes to pull away but you weakly wrap your arms around him, trying to pull him to you. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, holding you tightly. 

“It’s okay baby,” he whispers. “Everything is gonna be okay. I love you so much.”

[fallingfavourites]

the fisher king - cm fanfic

summary: Everyone on the team had gotten 2 weeks off. Elle and Derek decided to not waste a second of it and flew away to Jamaica. Hotchner went to spend time with his family. Gideon would most likely be birdwatching in his cabin if you had to guess, he doesn’t like sharing much about his personal life. Neither does Reid who is heading back home to Las Vegas. You stayed at home to relax. no one had expected the terrifying turn this vacation would take.

pairing: bau team x reader (platonic), hints/alludes at spencer reid x reader and elle greenaway x reader

cw/tw: typical cm violence, shooting, blood

word count: 8,568

a/n: basically just follows the fisher king episodes plot, english isn't my first language and im dyslexic so sorry in advance, tried to edit as best as i could! i hope this fic makes sense i dont even know anymore, enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated just dont be mean about it pls

masterlist

Everyone on the team had gotten 2 weeks off. Elle and Derek decided to not waste a second of it and flew away to Jamaica. Hotchner went to spend time with his family. Gideon would most likely be birdwatching in his cabin if you had to guess, he doesn’t like sharing much about his personal life. Neither does Reid who is heading back home to Las Vegas. You had just ended up on your couch with a cozy blanket and a movie you had been meaning to watch. A sudden loud ringing made you jump up. Rubbing your eyes so they can refocus.

You had fallen asleep. You would’ve laughed at yourself if it wasn’t for the constant loud ringing. Finally, finding your phone between the blanket you picked up without looking at the caller ID.  “Y/n? Y/n?” It took a second for you to register JJ’s voice as she repeated your name.

“Yeah, Yeah, I’m here is everything okay?” you asked, running a hand through your hair. “You need to get to the office. Now.” She sounded serious.

“What happened?” You asked as you vaguely heard someone talk to JJ. It kind of sounded like Gideon. If he came to the office, it must be serious.

“Tell me when I get there, I’m on my way.” You said, not even waiting for her to respond to your question and you hung up. A million thoughts race through your head as you put on a work-appropriate outfit. As soon as you were ready you got in your car and drove to the bau as quickly as you could.

When you arrive JJ immediately walks up to you and starts filling you in. Elle got arrested, Gideon received a head in the mail, Hotch had a strange phone call, and she had just gotten a framed butterfly. “So, someone is targeting the team?” Crossing your arms over your body. You’ve worked for the bau a few years now and have never experienced anything like this.

“You didn’t get anything?” JJ questioned. It was strange. “No, I haven’t.” You replied.

“Huh, that’s strange.” She said what you were just thinking. JJ frowned, clearly trying to think of a reason why you didn’t. “I’ll keep my eye out for anything strange.” You nodded as you told her.

After about 30 minutes of looking over all the evidence the team had gathered so far, Elle, Morgan, and Hotch stepped out of the elevator. JJ walked up to them, so you got up and made your way over.

“Virginia? You mean that son of a bitch is from here?” This is the first thing you hear Elle say as you open the glass doors. Talking about Frank Giles.

“I don’t know if he’s from here, but this is where he flew to. Arlington.” JJ started explaining as you stepped up next to her and Morgan. He gave you a nod as he acknowledged you.

“He’s got a long criminal record. Manslaughter, robbery, rape.” She continued as she read from the file.

“What about the victim?” You asked crossing your arms, “Marty Harris.” Derek filled in.

“Uh, he’s a two-time convicted fetish burglar, registered child sex offender…” JJ read from the other file. “And we have his head.” Gideon interrupted her. “CSU just positively identified the one delivered to my cabin.”

“Don’t waste time on the first victims. They were unrepentant, bad men. They only got what they deserved.” Hotch spoke up. “What is that?” Morgan asked him.

“I got a phone call last night before you called from Jamaica.” He said looking over at Derek.

“Any mention of a ‘her’?” Elle asks Hotch. “You must help him save her.”  he replies.

“Oh, so there’s a ‘him’ now, too?” Elle responds, clearly annoyed. Which is totally reasonable after getting arrested for murder and barely having any sleep.

“I think he means Reid.” You look over at Gideon. “Reid?” You and JJ both say at the same time. “We need to regroup.” Hotch says as last, and you all walk into the office.

You, JJ, Morgan, and Gideon are sitting at the round table. Hotch stood behind you and Elle stood near the tv screen. “So, clearly we have a psychopath intent on drawing us into his game.” Hotch said with his arms crossed. “Playing with us.” Gideon looked at his hands on the table. “Then let’s return the favor.” Elle says.

“He kept telling us repeatedly to save her. What ‘her’?” Derek questions.

“Items he’s sent must be some kind of clues.” You nod at what Gideon says. “Let’s get them up on the board.” Hotch nods towards the board as he says that.

“I got a Nellie Fox baseball card from 1963, and I got a head in a box.” Gideon starts as JJ gets up walking up to the board. “I got a rare butterfly in a shadow box.” She says as she starts writing it down on the whiteboard. “And repeated messages to ‘save her.’” Hotch adds.

“I got the decapitated body.” Elle says smiling sarcastically. “And a nice visit to the Jamaican Police Headquarters.”

Hotch looks over to you to say what you got. “I didn’t get anything.” You shrug.

“Not even a phone call?” He questions, raising an eyebrow. You shake your head. It looked as if Hotch was going to say something, but Gideon changed the subject. “Reid called from Nevada. He's on the way back here with a skeleton key and a note he got, too.”.

“And the guys who called me said, ‘the youngest holds the key’” Hotch adds on. “That’s Reid.” Elle says as she keeps pacing.

“Okay but wait a minute.” You look over at Derek. “Unsubs, they don’t contact us this way. I mean they might taunt us, dare us to catch them, but they don’t drag us into their fantasy.”

“Why not?” JJ asks Morgan when he finishes.

“Because their fantasies are sexual fantasies.” You answer before he can. “Right, taunting us is a show of power, but making us the object is…” He tries to search for the right words, “I don’t know what the hell that is.”

“There’s something else about the baseball card.” You look back to Gideon as he starts a new theory. “Nellie Fox was one of the stars of the 1959 White Sox. I went to almost every game with my father that year. Fox was my hero.” He says as he leans back in the chair. “So, is it a coincidence that he sends this to me, or does he know how I feel about him?” He questions looking over at Hotch. This makes JJ turn around.

“I collected butterflies when I was a little girl.” You all look over at her. “That’s how I knew what butterfly was in the box.”

“So, he knows us?” You question. “I got an anonymous message.” Hotch slightly shrugs. “I got a police raid.” Elle adds on. “But he knew exactly where we were.” Morgan says, supporting your theory. “Hotel in Jamaica Gideon at the cabin, Reid in Vegas, you at your home.” He lists off.

“He got that from the Bureau computers.” Penelope's voice makes you turn around in your chair; she looks nervous and has a file in her hand. “Your locations are always in there so they can find you if they need you. And I checked the log. The hacker was definitely in the personnel folders” She explains. Your brows furrow, how could this happen. “There were room numbers to the hotel in Jamaica, the address of Gideon’s cabin… There’s a lot of information in those databases.” She finished. Something about the way she’s talking is putting you off. There is something she isn’t telling you.

“Have you figured out how he was able to get into the Bureau’s computers?” Hotch asks her. She is silent. Just for a second. “I’m still working on that.” Lying to a room full of profilers probably isn’t the smartest thing to do. “Garcia, if you know something…” Hotch asks, clearly also picking up some things off.

“No, it’s, um…” Penelope's voice breaks slightly. “It’s just… I…” She’s clearly trying to find the right words, scared of upsetting the team. You give her a supportive smile. You’ve known her for years and know she would never do a bad thing on purpose. “I was playing a game yesterday.” She is silent for a second.

You look back to the team and catch JJ’s reaction. She clearly knows what Penelope is talking about. “An online game.” You look back over at the blonde with glasses. Tears shined in her eyes under the LED lights.

“A game?” Gideon asks. “Not on the Bureau computers, sir.” She quickly clarifies. “On my own personal laptop.”

“No, Garcia. No, no, no.” Derek says shaking his head. You close your eyes and lean your head on your hand. “I don’t understand.” Hotch looks for clarification.

“Wireless Internet.” You simply say. “By wirelessly hooking into the Net here to get online, the hacker could have gotten into my computer first, and… I have far less protection on my own laptop.” Penelope stoically explains it to him.

“And he could have gotten into the entire Bureau computer system this way?” You can’t see Hotch’s face as he says it but by the tone of his voice, you have some idea. “Yeah, it’s possible.” Penelope nods.

“Playing a game?” Gideon says as he gets up. “How could you be that stupid?” Seeing the look on Penelope's face, you have to resist the urge to defend her. Yes, she did do something stupid, but Gideon didn’t have to talk to her like that. “Information, files. You have a responsibility.”

“I know, sir. I’m so sorry.” Penelope replies to him. Gideon doesn’t reply. He just turns around. There is an awkward silence that hangs in the air. “But I found him.” Penelope eventually says. Almost full-on crying by now.

“You did?” You ask hopefully. “I know who he is, the hacker. His name is Giles. Frank Giles.” You all look at each other hearing this information. “He lives in Arlington, Virginia, four miles from here. I have his address” She continues as she hands the file she was holding to Hotch.

“Garcia, you said Giles?” Morgan asks her, wanting to confirm he heard it right. She nods quickly. “Let’s go.” Hotch only has to say those two words, and everyone is up and walking out of the office.

The team and you put on your bulletproof vests and got into the black SUVs. Sirens blared as you raced through the streets to get to Frank Giles as quickly as you could. The adrenaline is already pumping through your veins. Finally getting answers about why this is happening. You entered the building with the swat team. Derek kicked the door in, as usual. Everybody walks in with their guns raised. You hear some yell out that it’s clear. You, Derek, and Elle stand for a closed door.

“Frank Giles. FBI.” Derek yells out.

“Come out Giles.” Elle yells. They look at each other and both give a small nod. Then open the doors. As you enter you lower your gun immediately. You see Frank Giles’s lifeless body, only wearing underwear, laying on a dirty old mattress. A sword stuck in him.

“You got to be kidding me.” Elle’s the first one to speak.

“Hotch! Gideon! I think you’re gonna want to see this.” Derek calls out to them. You tear your eyes away from the gruesome scene to look at Elle. But she’s looking at the wall in front of you. So you look up to see ‘here thy quest doth truly begin’ written on the wall in blood.

All of you start taking in the crime scene. Vests already taken off. “He’s definitely playing with us.” Hotch speaks up. “His identification checks out.” Elle says handing his wallet to Hotch. “That’s Frank Giles.”

“There’s a big ol’bag of money sitting right here on the dresser.” Morgan says as he walks over to the bright blue bag. “So, Giles took Harris to Jamaica to kill him.”

“And then the unsub killed Giles.” You finished Hotch’s sentence.

“Yeah, but he paid him first.” Morgan says, confused about it.

“And left the cash?” Elle questions. “He must be well off.” You say, putting your hands on your hips.

“He said these were ‘unrepentant, bad men.’ Are we looking for some kind of vigilante?” Hotch asks, looking over at Gideon.

“No. The bodies are nothing but a way to get us interested. They’re game pieces. The killings are secondary.” Gideon explains nonchalantly.

“Well, this guy likes to write things in blood on the walls.” Elle says as she inspects the bloody walls.

Suddenly your phone starts ringing. All eyes are on you, but you look to Hotch. Silently asking for permission to step out for a bit. He gives you a nod and you step out to the hallway of the apartment building.

When you're alone you answer your phone.

“L/n.” You say but it stays silent on the other end. Pulling the phone away from your ear to check if you hadn’t accidentally declined the call. “Hello?” You ask as you put the phone back to your ear but it’s silent again.

About to hang up suddenly a voice comes through your phone.

“Agent Y/n L/n.” The voice sounds hoarse, you don’t recognize it. “Who is this?” You ask confused. Putting your right hand on your hip.

“It is your task to make sure they hear, and they listen.” The person ignores your question. You release this is the Unsub. “Do not let them stray.” He’s talking about the team.

He has to be. You’re about to respond as he hangs up.

“Damn it.” You let out a frustrated sigh. What could he have possibly meant by that? You keep staring at your phone.

“Hey,” a comforting voice takes you out of your thoughts, “You okay?” You look up to see Spencer walking up to you.

“What?” You look at him confused. Putting your phone back into your pocket. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright.” You smile, somewhat awkwardly.

Reid nods and sends a just as awkward smile back. It’s good to see him again. He looks around the empty hallway, hands in his pockets, hair slicked back behind his ears.

“Why are you out here?” He asks you.

“Oh, uh, no reason.” You shrug and let out a laugh. Why did you just lie to him? You honestly don’t know. It just slipped out. He also clearly doesn’t believe you, but before he can question you, you speak up.

“Let’s go, we can use you in there, genius.” You say as you nod towards the room the team is in. This time the smile you give each other isn’t awkward. They both are genuine smiles. Reid always gets a slight blush when someone calls him genius.

You never say it to embarrass him though. You say it full of affection. When you joined the bau, in your first case you got paired up with Spencer. He had been working at the bau for about a year. The two of you hit it off very well.

Walking back into the room you hear Hotch and Derek, “Midnight wouldn’t cast a shadow.” “‘Hour be none.’”

“3 P.M.,” Reid says as you walk in side by side. “Hey, guys. Garcia told me where to find you.” Hotch crouched near the body glances past Reid to look at you with a questioning gaze, silently asking about the phone call. You shake your head telling him it wasn’t important. And again, you don’t know why you are lying to your team about this. You tell yourself it’s because there are more important things right now and that phone call didn’t even make sense.

“3 P.M?” Gideon asks disrupting your thoughts.

“It’s medieval. The days used to be broken into hourly intervals, the canonical hours of the breviary.” Spencer begins to explain, “Prime, 6 A.M”., terce, 9 A.M., sext, 12 noon, none, 3 P.M., and vespers 6 P.M.”

Elle smiles at him fondly and points her finger at him, “Reid, do not ever go away again.” He smiles at her as Gideon starts talking. “Medieval. That’s why the language changed. ‘doth’”

“Everything this guy does is a clue.” Hotch says looking at the team.

 “Okay, but, guys, it’s 4:35. What do we do? Leave to the blade in till 3 P.M. tomorrow?” Derek asked.

“What if we block that window out?” You asked, pointing towards the window. Reid nodded at what you said and turned to one of the crime scene investigators. “Do you have any spotlights in your car?” He asked Gina.

“Sure.” She says as she's getting up, Elle thanks her.

When she came back with a flashlight she gave it to Reid. He crouched down next to where you were standing and pointed the light to the sword.

“See, this sun is right here at 5 P.M., Morgan, follow the shadow as I move the light higher.” Derek starts to move a small table out of the way to get closer to the wall. “Okay, and do what?” He asks when he’s finished.

“Tap.” Hotch instructs him. Derek starts tapping on the wall. He stops when he finds a hollow spot. “It’s hollow.” He says as he looks back at Hotch.

“Definitely an Indiana Jones movie.” Elle says looking over at you when you laugh at her joke.

“Feels like the wallpaper’s been replaced.” Morgan says to Hotch. “Tear it open.” He replies. Derek takes a knife out of his pocket and starts cutting open the wallpaper. Pulling back the wall.

“It’s a box.” He states looking back at the team. “Pull it out.” Hotch instructs him again. “Wait, are we sure that’s safe?” Spencer asks as he stands up. You look over at him. “You think it’s a bomb?” You ask him questionably.

“It isn’t. You think he’d be playing this game just to blow us up?” Hotch retorts. “He’d have already done that as long as we’ve been standing here.” Derek agrees with him and pulls out the box from the hole. He placed it on the table from earlier.

Hotch crouches next to Gideon to get a better look at it. You make your way over to see what it is, while Spencer doesn’t move. Morgan tries to open it, but it seems like it won’t budge.

“It’s locked.” He confirms, “You want me to break it?”

“No, we should process it first.” Hotch answers his question.

“The youngest holds the key.” Gideon suddenly speaks up. And you, Hotch, and Morgan all look at Reid. Spencer searches his pants pockets for the key. Only to realize he put it in the pocket of his button-up.

He does a little jog up to the box and goes to open it. Putting the key in and backing up slightly as he turns it. Music starts to come from the box.

It takes a second for you to recognize it. Turns out all those failed piano lessons are good for something. “Schubert.” Gideon says but before he can say which piece you beat him to it.

“The Trout Quintet.” He looks over at you confused, clearly, he didn’t expect you to know it. You just shrug in reply as you focus on the note that Spencer pulled out of the box. “Five people fishing.” Hotch says, giving context to the song.

“Never would it be night, but always clear day to any man’s sight.” Reid starts reading off the paper. “Well, that was worth it.” Elle says as she turns away.

“The lid.” Gideon points at the box, “Little tab right under the lock.” Morgan leans over Reid to open the lid.

As he opens it there’s a dvd in it, but also a blonde lock of hair tied with a pink bow.

“Jesus.” Slips out of you. “Oh, god.” Elle says at the same time.

Morgan pulls both out as Gideon lets out a tired sigh. Derek gives Elle the lock of hair. “Do you have that evidence bag?” She asks one of the CSI’s. “Here you go.” He replies as he holds out a bag for her to put the hair in.

“Thy quest.” Morgan says standing up and holding out the dvd so you all can see it. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Gideon putting his head in his hand. After everything is mostly wrapped up at the crime scene you all make your way back to the office.

Everyone is clearly tired and wants to catch this guy.

On the car ride back all you can think about is that phone call. It keeps repeating in your head. “Agent Y/n L/n.”  “Who is this?”  “It is your task to make sure they hear, and they listen. Do not let them stray.” You just can’t seem to make sense of it. What is it that you need to make sure they listen to? Maybe this dvd?

Without even releasing you’re back, sitting at the round table. The dvd is playing.

You see a barely lit office. A man stumbles into the frame and sits down at the chair, you can’t make out a face though.

“He moves funny.” Hotch noted. Derek looks back at Hotch to reply, “It’s like he’s injured or something.”

The man in the video starts talking. “I assure you, you will all understand in the end why it must be this way.” It’s the same voice of the man who called you at Frank Giles’s place. You shift in your seat as he continues. “You might even thank me.”

“Don’t hold your breath, scumbag.” You see Hotch glance over at Elle as she says this.

“You know now you’re on a quest. A young girl’s life depends on the successful completion of it.” The video shows a blonde girl being held captive. She’s throwing things at the camera and hitting the bars of the cage. “As you can see, she is quite beautiful and in distress.” The way he talks about her along with the footage makes your skin crawl.

“Now please listen closely for there is one rule and this rule must be followed.” You sit up straighter in your chair. The things he said on the phone call must be about this.

“The one rule is, only the members of your team may participate in the quest: Jason Gideon, Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan, Elle Greenaway, Y/n L/n, Spencer Reid, Jennifer Jareau, Penelope Garcia.” As he said, all your names and pictures of everyone on the team showed on the screen.

“A quest must be completed in the proper way, or it isn’t a quest, is it? That’s it. One rule. Simple. Now, you will be receiving an item soon that will hold the final clue you will need to finish the quest. You will find you will also need a book which has inspired many adventures like mine. Believe me, when I tell you I truly hope to see you all soon. It will mean a successful end to this adventure for all of us.” The video stopped playing. You look at everyone on the team.

“This guy’s got pictures of us?” Elle is the first one to speak up.

“What do we do now?” Reid asks Hotch.

“Well, the lock of hair’s being analyzed for DNA. There might be something on file.” He answers Reid.

“I’ll get Video to enhance the shots of the girl.” JJ says as she gets up to leave.

“Let's get the clues up on the board. Maybe we can make some sense of something.” Hotch instructs.

“Wait, we’re going to play this guy’s game?” Elle asks him, frustrated.

“Do we have a choice?” Spencer replies. But you’re not focusing on their conversation anymore, you’re focused on Gideon. You can’t figure out what he’s up to as he’s about to leave the room.

Everyone else turns around when they hear the click of the door opening.

“Be right back. You guys keep working.” Hotch says as he gets up to talk to Gideon. However, you don’t listen. The rest of the team looks at you as you follow him.

You’re following him out of the room for two reasons. Wanting to know what’s going on, everyone has always told you you’re too curious for your own good. And thinking now might be a good time to also mention to Hotch that you got a call from the Unsub.

“Jason?” Hotch calls out as he follows Gideon, “Jason!” He calls out again when the older man doesn’t stop. Gideon walks into his office and lets the door slam closed behind him. Before Hotch follows Gideon into his office, he gives you a disapproving look for following him. “We’ll talk about this later.” He says dismissively and walks into Gideon's office.

You let out a sigh. Why did you think this would work. You turn back around to have your walk of shame back to the rest of the group.

Morgan lets out a small laugh as he sees you walking back into the room. Reid gives you a questioning look, but you just shrug it off.

Not long after Hotch handed a paper over to Reid and said Haley received it. You, Morgan, Elle, and Reid had been staring at these numbers for a while now.

“My eyes are so heavy I can barely see it.” Elle says with a sigh.

“It has to be some kind of code, right?” You question, leaning against the table next to Reid. “The Unsub said we needed a book, didn’t he?” Reid brings up. You look over at him, curious about where he’s going with this.

“Yeah. ‘a book that inspired many an adventure.’” Morgan quotes from the video.

“It’s a book code. Each one of these sets of numbers represents a particular word.” Spencer explains and points at one of the codes on the paper, “For instance, page 118, line 30, word three. We need to figure out what the words are and fill in the blanks.”

“Right, but we don’t know what book.” You respond, another dead end.

“And the trouble is, it has to be the exact same edition of the exact same book that he used.” Reid adds on.

“Just got a DNA hit on the lock of hair.” JJ says as she walks into the room, “Rebecca Bryant.” She hands Elle a picture after showing it to you, “She’s been missing out of Boston for two years.”

You look over at her shocked, “Two years?” She nods as she looks at you.

“Guys, how are we supposed to figure out which book this code was copied out of?” Derek brings the conversation back after being handed the picture from Elle. “I have no idea.” Spencer replies. JJ walks up to the whiteboard and sticks the picture of Rebecca on it.

Reid was standing in front of the whiteboard, “He said we have everything needed to complete the quest.” he said as he turned around to look at you, Elle, and Derek. Derek was sitting on the chair backward, Elle practically laying in the leather chair, you were leaning against the table and JJ was sitting normally at the table looking over the evidence.

“The answer’s got to be up there somewhere.” Elle mumbles, very clearly tired.

“JJ, get some reporters here as soon as you can.” You quickly turn around as you hear Gideon say this. Alarm bells going off in your head.

Once again, the things the Unsub said on your phone call repeating themselves. It is your task to make sure they hear and they listen. Do not let them stray. Gideon’s not listening. “For what?” JJ asks him. “Just say we need help on a new case.” Is all he gives in response before he walks away.

You get up to follow him, again. You have to stop him from doing this. Gideon is always surprisingly fast for his age. You just barely catch up to him when he reaches Hotch again. “Sirs, you can’t do this.” You say, well it more sounds like you're begging.

Gideon and Hotch, both give you confused looks.

You take a deep breath. “He called me.” You say looking at them.

Their reactions are exactly what you expected. Gideon stays silent, he’s profiling you. “What? What do you mean he called you L/n?  When did this happen?” Hotch asks you with a stern look on his face as he crosses his arms. You feel ashamed. You should’ve told them. You know that. You just hoped you had figured out what he meant earlier so you could’ve given the team helpful evidence and not more questions. “Back at the apartment.” You say, placing your hands behind your back so they don’t notice how nervous you are.

Gideon just shakes his head and walks away. Obviously thinking he has better things to do than deal with you.

“Why didn’t you say something before?” Hotch asks you.

“I… I don’t know,” The unsatisfied look Hotch gives you makes rethink your answer, “I wanted to figure out what he meant.”

“So, you could show off?” Hotch fills it in for himself. You quickly shake your head. That’s not why you did it. “No, no I didn’t want to add more unanswered questions for the team.” It sounds stupid and you realize that.

Hotch sighs and rubs his forehead, “What did he say to you?”

“He told me to make sure they hear, and they listen and to not let them stray. I think he was talking about the video.” You reply to him, “I think the press conference is a mistake, Hotch.”

“Gideon knows what he’s doing L/n, I trust him. You should’ve told us sooner.” He says before walking away. You couldn’t shake the nervous feeling. You went to get some coffee. Not ready to face your team yet.

On your third cup, you see Hotch walking back into the office. The press conference is over, there’s nothing you can do about it now. You see Elle walking out with Hotch.

“Anderson, take Greenaway home.” He says, looking over at him. “Yes, sir.” Anderson immediately replies.

“No, I’m fine.” Elle protests. “I’ll have your car brought over later.” Hotch tells her. “Alright, come on, Anderson.”

Do not let them stray. It repeats in your head.

“Sir, is it okay if I go with them? I can come back whenever you need me.” You ask Hotch. He hesitates for a moment, thinking it over. Elle smiles over at you, she appreciates it.

“Alright but keep your phone on and close L/n.” Hotch tells you.

Elle was struggling to stay awake the whole drive back to her house. Anderson dropped you both off and went back to the office. Elle let you into the house. You’ve been here before, many times, you and her occasionally have a drink after a case when neither of you wants to be alone.

Elle tosses her keys on the coffee table and drops her bag next to the couch and flops down on it. You can’t help but let out a laugh. She doesn’t even have the energy to glare at you, shifting on the couch to get into a more comfortable position.

You put down your own bag next to hers and take off your gun and gun holster placing them next to her keys on the table. You walked into her kitchen, you hadn’t eaten yet and doubted she had.

Opening the fridge just to find it practically empty. There are some leftovers, but they don’t look edible anymore. You grab them to throw them away, the smell hits you and you pull a face.

“Gross.” You mutter under your breath and throw it in the trash can. “Hey, I'm going to get some food, you want any?” You ask her as you walk back into her living room.

She lets out a noise that’s something between a hum and a groan.

“Alright, I’ll take that as a yes.” You say with a smile on your face, “I’m taking your keys, I’ll be right back.” Reaching for her keys on the table.

She gives you a thumbs-up while trying to stifle a yawn.

So, you lock the door behind you as you leave for the small supermarket near her house. It’s about a 10 minute walk away.

You grab some iced coffees and some simple heat-up meals. You’re done in about 5 minutes, pay for everything and walk back. The plastic bag is heavier than you expected it to be, it leaves imprints on your fingers.

You reach Elle’s front door and reach for the keys in your jacket. You try to open the lock as quietly as you can, not wanting to wake her up.

As you open the door you freeze. The plastic bag somehow becomes ten times heavier, and it drops to the floor. The ice coffee starts to leak but it’s the least of your concern.

Elle is laying on the floor covered in her own blood.

“Oh my god…” You whisper. You rush forward to her somehow without falling over your own feet. You fall to your knees. Hands reach up to her face. She isn’t conscious. You give her a few taps on her cheek and her eyes flutter slightly.

“Shit, Elle. You gotta stay awake, okay?” You look around helplessly. Her phone is on the floor next to her. Did she call 911?  You place one hand on the wound to try and stop the bleeding, knowing it isn’t doing much as you feel the red hot liquid slip right past your fingers.

You reach over her to check her phone. Luckily you know her password.

You check her out going call and see 911. A sigh of relief escapes you.

Help is on the way. You just have to do everything you can to keep her alive until then.

Blood is staining your hands as you try to stop the bleeding. Her eyes closed.

“No, no, no, no, Elle, stay with me. Come on, you gotta keep your eyes open. Keep them open for me. Fuck. Elle. Come on. Please… I… I can’t lose you. Please.” A million things ran through your head. If you had been here, you could’ve stopped him.

If you hadn’t left, Elle would be okay. God, why did they have that press conference. Why hadn’t you been more demanding with Hotch that it was a bad idea.

Vague sirens interrupted your train of thought. Taking one hand to check Elle’s pulse. Time stopped. You couldn’t feel a heartbeat.

“Fuck.” Panicking. What would cpr do if she was bleeding out? Not like you had any other choice. You started compressions.

No thoughts run through your head anymore. Just pure focus on the task. Not even noticing the sirens getting louder and louder.

A paramedic pulls you away from Elle. Only now realizing they had arrived. Their mouths were moving but you couldn’t make out any of the words.

You stepped back. Letting them do their job.

Everything is hazy, you blink rapidly. Tears fall on your cheeks.

Have you been crying this whole time? You didn’t even realize it. They place Elle on a stretcher and make their way back to the ambulance. You follow them without saying a word. You don’t think about the fact that your phone is still in your bag.

Getting ready to step into the ambulance you noticed a car arriving. Anderson. He stumbled out of the SUV.

“L/n, what happened?” He tried not to show his fear but the tremble in his voice gave him away. “Call Hotch. Meet me at the hospital. I- I’ll explain there.” You spoke hurriedly while getting into the ambulance.

The paramedics are rushing the stretcher into the ER. You’re having a hard time keeping up with them. The doctors take Elle over.

“I’m sorry, we are taking her into surgery. You aren’t allowed any further.” One of the nurses is holding you back. You have no fight left in you, so you just nod and make your way to the waiting room.

Anderson is already there. His eyes are red. Had he been crying? He looked like a mess. You didn’t even want to think about what you looked like right now. The way Anderson’s eyes widened when he saw you back at the house told you enough. You definitely looked worse than him.

“I called Hotchner. Him and Agent Gideon are on their way now.” Wringing his hands as he spoke. He’s nervous. “Do you... um, do you know anything yet?” He barely could get the question out without tears threatening to spill.

“She’s in surgery.” Was all you could manage to get out as you spoke. Wanting to run your hand over your face but as you reached you noticed the deep maroon stains and how much it was shaking so you put your hand back down.

“If you want to, I can wait here, so you can get cleaned up.” He offered. You gave him a thankful but tired smile.

Making your way over to the bathroom. The door handle stuck to your hand slightly, leaving a slight red imprint on it.

You let out a heavy sigh, resting your head against the door as you closed it behind you. Walking up to the sink you didn’t dare to look into the mirror.

You turned on the faucet and put your shaky hands under the ice cold water. The water colored red instantly. You tried not to think about the fact it was Elle’s blood you were washing off.

Keeping your hands under the water until it turned clear again made them start to tingle from the freezing water. Turning the faucet off, you placed your hands on the sides of the sink. Not daring to look at your own reflection.

Involuntarily you let out a shaky breath. Trying to recollect yourself.

Hotch and Gideon would arrive any moment. They would have questions for you. Questions that would force you to think back to what happened not even an hour ago, while all you’ve been trying this whole time is to forget about it. You couldn’t bear to try and remember.

You dried your hands and walked out of the bathroom, scanning the waiting room for Anderson. He was talking to two men in suits. Two men you could recognize anywhere. How did they get here so soon? How long had you been in the bathroom? You looked at your wrist. The face of your watch is stained with blood. You quickly pulled the sleeve of your jacket back over it.

“It appears she dialed 911 herself before she passed out.” You hear Anderson say as you get closer to them. Hotch and Gideon turned around when they noticed Anderson's gaze shifting to you.

The pity and maybe even guilt that Anderson feels when he makes eye contact with you is clear on his face. Or maybe it’s clear to you since profiling is your job, but then how come you couldn’t prevent Elle from dying. No. She isn’t dead. Not anymore. The paramedics shocked her back to life. She’s alive. She’ll be okay. She has to be. You would never be able to live with yourself if she wouldn’t be. Hotch keeps his eyes on you for a minute while Gideon turns back around.

“Why weren’t we notified?” He asks Anderson.

“The offender apparently took her ID and gun. The uniform I talked to didn’t even know she was in the Bureau until I arrived on scene.” He replies to Gideon quickly.

“Get back over there.” Hotch says turning back to look at Anderson. “This is a federal crime scene. Nobody touches anything. We process it.” He instructs the younger agent. “Go.”

“Yes, sir.” Anderson replies as he leaves to go and do exactly what Hotch told him to.

The two agents turn back around to observe you. You are staring into space; your mind is clouded. Nothing feels clear anymore. Hotch and Gideon glance at each other. Both concerned with the state you’re in currently. Gideon takes out his phone and walks a few steps away, going to call the office.

“L/n? Hey L/n?” An authoritative, yet comforting voice made you reorientate. Hotch squinted his eyes and ever so slightly tilted his head. He was profiling you. And you would’ve noticed if you weren’t so tired.

“Sorry, what were you saying sir?” Crossing your arms over each other.

“You’re lucky you weren’t there as well.” He said touching your shoulder. But you didn’t feel lucky. All you felt was guilt, but you simply nodded. “Is there anything you remember?” He crosses his arms just like you did.

“I-” You choke on your words. You close your eyes and shake your head trying to get your thoughts in order. “I wasn’t even gone for 30 minutes. If I had just… If I hadn’t left, she would be okay.”

“If you had been there, he most likely would’ve shot you as well L/n.” Hotch tells you. Before you can say anything, else Gideon walks back over to the two of you.

“Trap and trace got nothing.” He says leaning against the wall and putting his phone away. “Unsub used a disposable cell.” You look confused at that. Hotch notices.

“The unsub, he called us. Taunting us about Elle.” He explains to you. You let out an exhausted sigh. It’s as if this case never ends.

“We got our best CSU team. If he left anything, a print, a hair, sweat, anything…” “They’ll find it.” Gideon cuts Hotch off. You look down at your hands, they are still shaking.

“I’m going to grab a coffee.” You mutter out and leave the two agents.

After grabbing your coffee, you go and sit in the waiting room. It is completely empty. Would you rather have it be busy? You’re not sure which would be worse. Because now you must sit here in this hurt. This constant tight feeling in your chest, as if you’re not getting enough air.

A few minutes later Gideon walks in. He nods at you as you look at him. He sits down a few chairs away from where you’re sitting, giving you some space. You sit in silence, it’s not uncomfortable but it also isn’t exactly comfortable. “Hotch is calling JJ and Morgan.” He says, explaining where the other agent is. You just nod, not having the energy to reply. You look down at the coffee in your hands, you haven’t taken a single sip. It’s pretty much cold now. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Gideon scrabbling things down on the magazines that lay down on the table. You don’t ask him about it.

After a while, Hotch walks in and you look up from your drink. He’s gotten rid of his suit jacket. “Any word?” He asks Gideon.

“Nope.” Gideon replies simply.

“I called JJ. I told her we’d call them if anything changed.” Hotch tells the two of you as he leans on the two chairs in front of him. Gideon and you simply nod at what he says.

“What’s all that?” Hotch asks as he notices the writing on the magazines.

“This unsub’s extremely organized.” Gideon explains instead of answering his question, “He sounded truly shocked that we didn’t follow the rules. He honestly believed we would simply listen to his directions.”

“He’s delusional. He thinks he’s a mythological king.” Hotch says, his eyebrows furrow slightly.

“But delusion and this level of organization are almost mutually exclusive.” Gideon corrects Hotch, “You don’t meticulously plan contacts in the real world if you’re suffering psychotic breaks from reality.” Before Hotch can reply to Anderson walks back in. “How is she?” he quietly asks. You stare back down at your coffee again.

“No word yet.” Hotch replies to him, “Is the scene processed?”

“They’re finished. We still have it locked up tight, though.” Anderson explains.

“They find anything?” Hotch asks, he sounds exhausted.

“CSU found a partial print.” You look up as Anderson says this. “The shooter wrote a message on the wall in blood and,” He did? How did you not notice that? Hotch and Gideon glance at you just for a second, probably thinking the same. “In one of the smudges, they found a whorl pattern.” Anderson hands over the file to Hotch. “They made a lift. They aren’t sure whether it’s enough to get a hit, but they are processing it now.” Anderson continues as Hotch hands the file over to Gideon. You get up from your seat, still holding your coffee, you walk closer to Gideon to look at the file.

He grabs the top picture of a bloody fingerprint to reveal what the unsub wrote on the wall. RULES. Dripping down the wall. You try to think back as hard as you can but don’t remember seeing it. You should’ve seen it. Gideon reads what’s on the picture and looks up at Hotch. He places the file back down on the table in front of him.

Hotch leaves to get coffee. Leaving you and Gideon alone again. You go to sit back down in the chair but stop.

You can’t help the words that slip out of your mouth. “You shouldn’t have done the press conference.” You turn around to face him. “I tried to warn you.”

Gideon doesn’t say anything. He just stares down at the file. You want to yell at him. Scream that it’s his fault. But you bite the inside of your cheek.

“I was just doing my job.” He says quietly, so quiet it’s barely a whisper. You can’t help but let out a scoff and stare at him. If looks could kill Gideon would be six feet under by now. You respect him, you truly do, but he made a bad call and can’t own up to it.

The reasonable part of your brain tells you, you are projecting your own feelings of guilt and anger on him, but you don’t have it in you to be reasonable right now. So, you storm out of the waiting room. You throw your coffee in a trash can as you walk past it. Hotchner passes by you with two coffees in his hand, he’s put his jacket back on, he raises an eyebrow when you don’t acknowledge him. He looks back at you but keeps walking back to the waiting room.

You let out a frustrated sigh. You notice one of Elle’s doctors and go to ask if they have any new information.

She just tells you the same thing, “No, I’m sorry.” And she walks away.

You just wish someone could tell you something, anything. You’re tired, exhausted, angry, sad, terrified, guilty. Your eyes start to sting as you try and hold back your tears. You look around and walk into the nearest bathroom.

When the door closes the damn breaks and tears fall down your face. A sob escapes you and you place your hand over your mouth. You try to focus on your breathing to try and calm down. It works a little bit.

You decide washing your face might help you get grounded again, so you walk over to the sink. Turning it on and putting your hands under the water. Somehow the water of this sink is even colder than the one from before. You cup your hands under it and splash the water on your face.

You reach to grab a towel to dry your hands and face but catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You look even worse than you imagined. Your mascara is all over the place and so is your hair. There even is some dried blood on your face, you quickly scrub it off with a damp paper towel.

So many thoughts and feelings have been racing through your head over the past few hours, you can barely keep up with them. Did you overstep with Gideon just now? Possibly. You just couldn’t handle bearing all the guilt you were feeling anymore.

Before you leave you check yourself in the mirror again. You look… less chaotic to put it nicely. You smooth over your hair and clothes and walk out of the bathroom.

You start looking for Hotch and Gideon but only find the latter. He’s staring into space, the thing you’ve seen him do all day. You look around before approaching him, hoping to find Hotch instead.

“Hey…” You clear your throat as you stand next to the chair he’s sitting in. He takes a second to look up to his left and gives you a nod of acknowledgment. A certain awkwardness flows between you two. Neither saying a word.

His fingers are interlaced, resting on his lap. He’s trying to appear calm and collected, but his shaking knee is giving him away.

There’s a free chair next to him. You debate with yourself whether you should sit down or not. Gideon nods over to the chair as if he was reading your mind. “Just sit down, kid.”

A quick nod is all you give him in response as you go and sit down.

After sitting in this silence for a few minutes, you speak up. “She’s going to be okay right?” You rub your palms over your thighs, trying to shake the nervous feeling.

“Greenaway is strong, she’s a fighter.” He doesn’t know if she’ll be okay. He is probably as terrified as you are right now. Once again, you just nod. You wring your fingers. Letting out a sigh, you look over at Gideon.

“Sir, I’m sorry if I overstepped…” He looks over at you with a raised eyebrow, “Earlier, in the waiting room.” You remind him.

Gideon nods, he hadn’t expected you to bring it up again. He wasn’t mad at you; he was mad at himself. He should’ve listened. And he would regret the choice he made, along with all the other choices over his career. Gideon waved his hand at you, telling you that what happened didn’t matter.

You and Gideon sat in the hallway for another half hour before a doctor finally approached both of you. Hearing the news a sigh left you. Relief flooded your body.

Elle is okay. Elle is alive.

Gideon went to call the team as you followed the doctor. Elle was laying in the hospital bed. She looked peaceful. You can’t remember the last time you saw her this relaxed. You approach her bed and sit down in the chair next to it. All the memories of today wash over you again, the thought that you could’ve lost your friend. You wipe away a single tear that falls.  

Gideon walks up next to you after a few minutes. Laying his hand on your shoulder.

“They caught him, he’s dead.” You turn around to look at him, “They saved Rebecca.” You look back to Elle as you nod at what he says. Part of you wished you could’ve been there with the team. Gotten some justice for Elle. But you were where you needed to be. Right here. In the hospital, sitting next to Elle as she wakes up.

[rottiens]

I need to hear more about your detective sukuna thoughts pls

✮ cw. 18+, implicit violence and sensitive topics, it is implied that the reader is a foreigner, detective au. fun fact; toji is sukuna's boss in this au just because I want him to :3 | divider creds: cafekitsune.

Sukuna has a reputation for corruption, always finding excuses to shoot, harm witnesses and, of course, use handcuffs. His methods are not always orthodox, but they always pay off. That's why his boss usually turns a blind eye when Sukuna is in charge of a case, giving him the necessary immunity and resources he requests.

Murders, robberies, arms trafficking: these are just some of the cases the great Sukuna has worked on, finding solutions over a ten-year career, with all of those cases now closed… except one.

The surprise death of the president of one of Tokyo's most important companies shocked the country, filling the newspapers and front pages for months. The case was closed as a suicide, but Sukuna knew there was more to it, especially when his superiors insisted that there was nothing more to investigate and that he should no longer stick his nose where it was not called. That only made him, of course, more determined to probe where he was not called.

He has been working "undercover" for the past few weeks, though not under orders from his superiors, but under his own rules. Investigating witnesses, collecting documents, sniffing out clues like a bloodhound, and among all those things, there's always one thing in common: you.

He has been watching you. You charge and pass each object through the scanner with a neutral face and steady hands. You look like an expert in the field. The tag on your uniform says "Aiko," clearly a fake name. Sukuna had seen your name on the report now lying under his mattress. He knows your real name, age, hometown but that's all he could collect, no college record, a family to pursue, an ex-partner or any other previous job. The president's personal assistant with a blank background, living in one of the most humble areas of the city, far from magazines, newspapers, camera lenses….

Sukuna places the pack of cigarettes on the counter with more force than necessary just as the store bell chimes. It's just the two of you now.

"Just that?" you ask without looking at him. Sukuna searches your eyes silently until you hold his gaze. Exhausted eyes, painted the black of your dark circles under your eyes.

How long have you not slept? What is keeping you awake? The questions make him bite his lip, restraining himself from pulling out his notebook and starting the interrogation right there, curiosity eating him alive from the inside but he knows you still need one more push to go down. He finally gives in, shakes his head in affirmation and you tell him the price, the same one you've given him for the past few weeks with the same lifeless countenance as always.

Sukuna pulls his wallet out of his leather jacket, showing you a flash of his badge glowing in the darkness of his clothes. Sukuna sees you tense up behind the counter. You pick up your hands and hide them where he can't see them. He slides a wad of bills onto the wood along with a white card with his phone number and name in plain black letters.

You shake your head before he has a chance to say anything.

"I just want to talk," he says, still, his voice a little hoarse.

"I don't have anything to talk to you about." Your accent is good, but he can easily tell you're not from here.

"I just want to buy you a coffee."

Sukuna leans back on the counter, holding his jaw with his open hand as he examines you up and down. You lean back in the chair, almost as if you think he's going to grab you and force you to stay still. You are visibly trembling, and it all makes his adrenaline rush through his veins, he is drooling, his eyes slightly wide at the prey in front of him. What are you hiding, what do you know?

"Can you leave now?"

Sukuna realizes how easy it would be to handcuff you at this point. With a little effort, he'd leap over the counter, mount you on his broad shoulders, and haul you out the door to throw you in his truck. However, remember that it's Monday, the flow of people is higher at the beginning of the week, and it would be a hassle to have to shoot another civilian.

Sukuna stretches as he groans; all the imagination of the scene has exhausted him. So he runs a hand through his hair and shoves the cigarette box into his back pockets.

"Call me if you're bored. I promise it will be worth it," he comments with a smile that makes you visibly uncomfortable.

Then he walks towards the exit and, with a creak of the bell, the cold snowflakes that his stale presence brought to the place begin to fall on your head and arms, covered by the thin uniform shirt, making you shiver even more, causing your fingers and lips to become like ice cubes with the winter that the infamous detective leaves behind.

[tateshifts]

THEODORE NOTT moodboard & dr headcanons!

cw: NSFW

1 • boxing is his outlet. it’s been his favourite pass time in the past few months. he finds any excuse to just take the flop to london and get in the ring.

2 • theo loves his cars like he loves his women, loud. you best believe on the 2nd or 3rd date he’s taking you out in his beloved car just to fuck you in it. sweaty bodies, compressed spaces and fogged up windows are his biggest turn ons (i don’t understand this man at all)

3 • he wears this costume every year. he has multiple costumes for halloween weekend but he always has THIS costume on hand… boring. lazy. sloppy. yawning. but he looks so damn good so i stfu.

4 • he writes!! it’s something he uses to process his thoughts. it keeps him grounded and makes everything so much clearer for him. he also writes letters to his mother who passed away, it’s his way of communicating with her. sometimes, when he’s strong enough, he’ll visit her grave and read them to her just so she’s caught up on his life.

5 • cigarettes after sex is SO theo coded. he doesn’t listen to them in my dr even though i always encourage him too. he doesn’t listen smh- says that it’s not his genre

6 • loverrrr boyyyy, when theo’s in THE relationship with THE one, he is completely and utterly in love- to the point where whatever she says goes. in his past relationship he was very much in a black cat / golden retriever situation, theo being the cat. he has a thing for gryffindors especially the patil twins.. not sure where he’s going with that but yay theo!!

7 • such a gentleman, when he’s head over heels in love he does not care about what others think about him anymore. all that matter is you, he fucks off his reputation.

8 • smoker. do i need to say more?? weed is his go-to though. (he is a victim of daylight robbery by the dodgy man in hogsmeade)