Had an itch while at work. This is me purely reminding everyone that Will is from Louisiana and yes we lived in New Orleans (my hometown) together <333
a/n: this was based off the song "next of kin" by alvvays
"Charles?" You call softly, knocking on his door.
Met with silence, you call his name again. The door creaks as you slowly open it. As you enter the dark room, you tiptoe carefully through the bottles that littered his bedroom floor. Making way toward the windows, you open the blinds and see Charles wide awake in bed.
"Charles?" Your eyes soften as you take in the state that he's in. Body pressed slack against the headboard, eyes rimmed bloodshot most likely due to the bottle in his hand.
"Couldn't sleep?" You sigh as you gently sit next to him on the edge of the bed.
"No." He says, the lack of sleep evident in his voice.
"When was the last time you slept?"
"Y/n.." he finally meets your gaze, eyes pleading as he desperately wants to avoid a lecture, "please?"
Your shoulders drop as you sigh in defeat. You knew how this game work.
After Cuba, Charles never bounced back to the bright-eyed man he was before. Hank and you tried your best to help Charles carry his pain, you helped manage the school, attend to the students, and make sure things were running as smoothly as possible.
However, as the war in Vietnam progressed you were living in a constant cycle of loss. Faculty and students alike were called to war, and the three of you watched the once bustling hallways become nothing but an echo. You and Hank were the ones who made the call to close down the school. Ever since then, the three of you remained at the X-mansion but the road to recovery was long and winding.
You thought that with Hanks serum, Charles could find some relief in regaining control of his body and mind. You and Hank were witness to how the voices in his head were driving him to insanity. His telepathy turning sour as he couldn't shut out the voices of mutants he couldn't save from his mind.
So Hank helped shut the voices out, something that you couldn't do. At first it seemed like maybe this would be the beginning of Charles's healing. He regained mobility of his legs, yet his mind continued to deteriorate. You watched as he found solace in the serum, at a bottom of a bottle, and whatever pills he could score.
Any attempt to intervene would be futile as Charles was incapable of escaping his grief. Forgetting that he was the only one hurting, you were forced to watch the love of your life lose himself slowly.
"Hanks stepped out. He's gone to town to pick up a few things for us." You change the subject, hoping to ignore an argument that were common due to Charles erratic moods.
"Have you had your serum?"
"No, not yet." He clears his throat, shifting upright to be closer to you.
"I'm alright, y/n. You don't have to hover."
"I don't mean to hover. I just...miss you."
"I'm right here love." Charles moves his hand to gently cup yours. He gives you his best attempt at a smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes.
"You know what I mean."
The words wash over him like a strong tidal wave. He knows he's been neglecting you. He knows he's taken his grief and anger out on everyone, with you catching the worst of it.
"I know." He squeezes his hand, giving you the only comfort that he has left.
"Will you join me for a swim?" Your request shakes him from his thoughts.
"I don't know love." He groans pulling his hand from your before raking it through his hair, which has grown longer than his usual style.
"Please, my love?" You look at him through pleading eyes. Sometimes Charles wonders if he needs his powers at all to read your mind. He knows what your asking for- time, love, comfort. Things that Charles se easily gave you not too long ago, but now felt impossible.
"Alright." He gives in, and a low warmth blooms in your chest.
"Thank you love." You place a quick peck to his cheek, and Charles feels a relief at the sight of the smile adorned on your face.
"Have you got time for me to shower?"
"Of course."
Charles captures your lips in a quick kiss before rising from the bed.
"I'll be quick, promise." He calls from the bathroom. He scans the bathroom counter, looking to take something to help suppress the things that made him feel uptight. searching for his vices. As steam fogs up the mirror, the serum and pills begin their effect.
⚬───────✧────────✧───────✧───────✧─────────⚬
The summer sun was just short of sweltering as you both made way towards the river. A comfortable silence drapes over, the only sound coming from the rustle of the tall grass that prickled your skin as you waded through it.
As the riverbanks come into view, flashes of a past life move through you like a gentle breeze.
"It's been years since the last time I did this." Erik sighs, as he takes in the view ahead of him. The bright sun reflecting off the blue-green water. A gentle breeze moves through the line of trees as a flock of birds honk, flying overhead.
"Charles and I walked this path the day I came to the mansion." You smile warmly at the memory.
"I see." Erik moves to watch your side profile. Something softly nestling in his chest as he gazes at you. The way your skin illuminates in the sunlight, a gentle glow that makes you look more celestial than anything else.
"It's one of the few places where I can just be." Shoulders slouching as you exhale deeply. Feeling tethered to the ground beneath you.
"I see why you like it so much." Erik moves his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind you ear. You lean into his touch, feeling a wave of calm wash over you as you stare into his his steel blue eyes. "It's quiet."
"Peaceful." The concept had always seem foreign to Erik, like an abandonment that comes after years of unanswered prayers. Yet hearing you say it, he feels as though maybe he can allow himself to believe, even if momentarily.
As he presses his forehead to yours, you both revel in the beauty of this moment. Forgetting what is to come in only days before you face Shaw. One of the few last calms before the storm.
You feel an ache hum lowly in your chest at the memory. It seemed like a lifetime had passed since then. Despite the time that passed, Erik still haunted you. He lingered you and Charles, leaving a stain that had proven itself impossible to remove.
"Where's your mind?" Charles voice shakes you from your thoughts, as you suddenly look towards him. You caught the way he looked at you in the sunlight. Careful eyes scanning your features for a sign, searching your eyes, he sees the same hint of heartbreak he's all too familiar with.
"Right." His posture stiffens slightly at the sting of Erik's memory.
"We're still here Charles, shouldn't that be enough?"
Charles looks at you, really looks at you- and despite the serum and various substance beginning to take effect, he's still able to read you clearly. He sees the pain that you try to keep at bay. The pain and memories that you still can't shake, evident in the distant, searching expression in your eyes.
"I wish I could answer that." The words come delayed, struggling and failing to find something that could be balm a wound that stung so fiercely.
"I want it to be enough," you exhale shakily. "It has to be." Uncertainty evident in your voice. Unable to imagine a future where you didn't feel this sting.
Charles says nothing. Speaking from experience, he knows that there's few things one could say that could soothe pain like this. He stretches his hands towards you, slowly, giving you time to reject him. Feeling as though he deserved it, after the strain he caused in your relationship. He's surprised when you turn your hand, allowing him to lace his fingers with yours.
Moments like these were few and far between now. You close your eyes and breath deeply as you squeeze Charles' hand. Charles squeezes your hands three times. I love you. The moment is tender, quiet as you squeeze his hand back. A silent communication whose message can only be deciphered between two people that share the same battle scars.
Sometime later, you and Charles decide to enter the water wanting to escape the sun's brutality. Your clothes liter the sand as you enter the cold body of water. Charles is just behind you and he follows as you wade further into the river.
"Fuck!" Charles curses in between ragged breaths. "I don't remember it being this bloody cold."
"It's refreshing." You correct teasingly, sighing in relief as the cold water cooled you down and protected you from the summer heat.
"I suppose so." Charles says through chattered teeth, struggling to acclimatize.
"Careful!" You call out as you see Charles submerge suddenly, a result of the strong waters.
"I don't remember the current being this strong." Gasping for air as he submerges, adjusting his strokes so that he wouldn't be overtake by the water again.
"Struggling are we?" You amuse playfully, a smirk turning the corners of your lips upward.
"No." Charles scoffs a the accusation. Too stubborn to accept the truth in it as he peers over at you from the corner of his eye.
"Sounds like you can't keep up. Is this the case, professor?" You stretch out the last word mockingly. Only to be sprayed as Charles splashes water at your face.
"Hey!" Your hands go up, a feeble attempt to block Charles. "Charles!"
"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" Charles calls out playfully. A mischievous grin sprawled on his face. "I can't quite hear you."
"Oh, if that's how we're gonna play then!"
You and Charles take turns splashing each other around, swimming fiercely as you both chase each other. The sounds of the water and your and Charles laughter echoing throughout the riverbanks.
You succumb and surrender, needing to catch your breath. You take in your surroundings, noticing that you and Charles were now even further from the shore. Not having noticed the changing current that dragged you further down along the river. Looking over at Charles you cant begin to laugh at your childish antics. Charles' low laugh sparks a certain happiness in you, having missed carefree moments like these for so long.
Falling into a moment of peaceful silence, Charles never tears his gaze away from you. He studies the way your skin glows beneath the sun, how the water beads on your skin, and how much he missed the warmth of your smile. Its brightness budding as a soft light in the darkest of caves, that is his mind.
"Something on your mind, Xavier?" You call out softly, treading lightly as you know fragile moments like these are. Not wanting to break before it's even over.
"Just how beautiful you are, darling." Charles smiles at you, in awe of your beauty. His heart strains slightly as he thinks about how much of a presence of light you are, and how he's let his own pain rob him of moments like these.
The tight pull he feels in his chest however, begins to bloom. Growing stronger and stronger as his body fights to try to stay above the surface. The shifting currents now proving it to be more difficult to swim at a matching pace.
"Darling?" Charles chokes as he struggles. Everything felt so intensified. The world burned brightly, his limbs growing exhausted, and an erratic pounding in his chest that he could hear in his ears.
"Y/n-" Charles is met with the salty inhale of the river, dragged underneath as a punishing wave washes over him.
"Charles?" Panic settles in when you turn around and see no trace of him.
"Charles!"
He submerges violently ashore, gasping for air as he feels his lungs failing him with every violent thrash through the water.
"Hey, hey! Charles!" You cry out as you use your remaining strength fighting to swim closer to him. "Stay with me."
Pleading as you grab his hand. Dread fills you as you take in his state, no colour to his skin. As you make out the mansion in the distant horizon, you think about how it'll be hours or days before Hank finds your bodies.
"Don't let go, Charles. I need you to stay with me." The sun blinding your sight, as your chin lifted to the sky.
The water was unforgiving, waves crashing over you as you struggled to hold onto Charles' hand. With another wave, you left your love in the river. You lost his hand in the current, the water taking you farther away from him.
You're world spun out of control, water fillings your lungs as you tumble through the water. Scoffing at the irony of your situation- thinking of the time you once thought your world would end on a beach in Cuba, only to meet its end miles from your home. You thought back to Charles, hope of ever seeing him alive fading as sunlight begins to darken at the corners of your vision.
summary: after fighting to be put out in the field, Hotch lets you take the lead on a case, what happens when things go south and Hotch fears he won’t make it in time to save you?
a/n: i'm so sorry anon that i took 444everrrr to respond but i hope that u enjoy. i also wasn't sure which direction to take this in and accidently made reader go through sm pain...sorry!! xx
"Hotch-"
"No."
"Hotch, please just hear me out?" Your voice growing more impatient at his objections.
"It's too dangerous." Aaron's features only hardened in their seemingly natural stoic expression. Leaning on his desk, with his arms folded over his chest, you knew that Aaron wouldn't be persuaded easily into letting you be the unsubs bait in a live kidnapping. ""It's too dangerous." Aaron's features only hardened in their seemingly natural stoic expression. Leaning on his desk, with his arms folded over his chest, you knew that Aaron wouldn't be persuaded easily into letting you be the unsubs bait in a live kidnapping.
There was something about Aaron's office that always put you on edge. Combined with the sharp stare aimed at you, you were on high alert and felt that you had to manually breathe as you tried to de-escalate the situation.
The team and you had gone over the profile and the best course of action needed in catching the unsub. He had been targeting students at a small university campus in Virginia. Three of his past victims were all abducted and their remains found within the span of two weeks. Growing more desperate, it was only a matter of time before he captured his next victim.
"Hey guys-" Spencer quipped as his eyes roamed over the photos of past victims.
"Found something, pretty boy?"
Spencer only rolls his eyes at Morgan's comment before placing his attention back at the photos.
"I couldn't help but notice the resemblance found across all victims. Despite being in the same age group, they all share almost the same height, weight, facial structures-especially the nose, and even the same hair and eye color."
"So you're saying he has a type?" Standing beside Spencer, Morgan quirks an eyebrow at him, seeing the direction he's going with this.
"I think he chooses his victims because they serve as a reminder of someone. A past romantic partner or a friendship ending in betrayal."
"So he'll keep choosing from a specific demographic in order to fulfill his fantasy of seeking revenge on the person that wronged him?" Elle pointed out.
"Correct."
"Well he is growing more desperate. He's unorganized and all over the place, I don't give it much time before he caves in and strikes again." Gideon shares a knowing look across the room to Aaron.
"We'll need to be ready for when he does." Hotch's words rings out smooth, the deep timbre of his voice never wavering even as the pressure of the case grew.
"I'll call the unit chief and arrange to get every officer in joining us in assisting a stake out. We need to get there immediately to be ready for when he does strike."
"I'll talk with the press to see what they can do about bringing awareness to the community." Jennifer touch lightly grazes your shoulders as she slips past you, making her way out of the bullpen to make every necessary call.
"Good," Gideon claps his hand as he stood up to leave the room," the more pressure our guy feels, the sooner he'll strike."
"What if we already have our next victim?" Your question made everyone freeze in their steps and look toward you in sudden confusion.
"Excuse me?" Hotch is the one to press you for more information. Eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
"Guys, look at these pictures. Do you guys notice anything?" Shifting the images of on the desk, they gather around. A silence falling on them as they all scan the pictures again looking for what it is you're hinting at.
"It's you." Spencer- ever so perceptive, was the one to figure out what it was you were hinting at.
"I'm still not following," Hotch said, eyes now darting between you and Spencer.
"Y/N fits the victims profile almost identically. I-If we had y/n pose as a student at the university, then it's very likely they'd go unnoticed by our unsub."
"Which brings us closer to catching him," you add on, hoping to drive your point home to Hotch.
"No."
"Hotch-"
"It's too risky. Even with the strong resemblance, I wont risk one of my agents in the field. We'll go at this another way." You don't miss the pointed look aimed at you. His words wanting to leave no room for discussion as he made his way towards the door. Then again, you there's a reason why "questions authority" was commonly marked in your file.
"This is our best shot at catching our unsub and you know it. If we don't do this, we're giving him more time to act and we're putting more lives at risk."
You immediately regretted the words at soon as they came out of your mouth. There was a look that Hotch usually reserved for interrogations with unsub and with incompetent police officers, and with his chin held high and head slightly tilted, you absolutely hated being on the receiving end on it.
"Agent y/ln, I want you in my office now."
Which brought you to your current predicament. Standing only a couple feet apart from Hotch in his office, too stubborn to back down and take no for an answer.
"You know more than I do that this is our best shot at catching the unsub."
"No. I'll have the team set up in the conference room to look at it at another angle see if we can-"
"Hotch-" the edge in your voice was enough to make him clench his jaw and meet your gaze. He could see the frustration rising in your features- all evident by the furrow of your brows, the slightly elevated pitch, your narrowed stare.
"Why are you doing this?"
It's not common for Aaron Hotchner to be caught off guard. Yet here in his office, he's silent as he takes you in. He knows the resemblance to the other victims is too strong to ignore. He knows that you bring a promising course of action in catching the unsub-but the risk it brings weigh heavy in his mind.
"It's my job to prioritize the safety of my agents- and may I suggest Agent Y/L/N, that you trust that I know what's best for my team and for these cases." The edge in his tone would leave no room for discussion with any other agent.
But you weren't just another agent.
"You wouldn't stop Derek from doing the same. If it was him that matched the victimology- or Elle."
He knew you were right. He knew that he had no tangible evidence to prevent you from being in the middle of a sting operation. It wasn't that Hotch questioned your abilities, it was more so the opposite.
Hotch seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders and some of that included being responsible for his team. If anything ever happened to them he would take the blame.
It's not that Hotch questioned your abilities, he questioned his own. As the million possibilities of ways the sting could go wrong, bounced in his head, what terrified him the most was what if he couldn't get to you in time.
Unaware of how obvious his actions were, but Hotch was protective over you in a way he wasn't with anyone else on the team. From the very first day you joined the team, your light and brilliance left Aaron in awe of you. Despite your initial worry and reservation, you melted seamlessly into the team. What Aaron didn't realize was how seamlessly you seemed to fit into his.
Not only were you highly skilled, you were deeply intuitive. For worse or for better, your gift and compassion had the ability to make the team be transparent and communicate in moments where it was difficult to do so. For Aaron, it felt like you had the ability to read his mind. Decades spent building up walls were futile underneath your searching gaze, crumbling further as more time passed on.
You made Hotch feel things that he hadn't felt in years. Feelings that frankly scared him to death and made him want to build those walls back up brick by brick. Yet there was always something, preventing him to do so. Something about you that invited him in and made him trust you, despite being a man of reason.
It's the same reason why he feels his mind changing as you stare at him through pleading eyes. Something in your expression- open, searching, unknowing- begins to rumble the careful reserve he's built around himself.
Your name escapes his lips in a heavy sigh and he has to pinch the bridge of his nose to keep himself grounded and push his uncertainties below the surface.
"Please," your voice now low, a quiet hum, "let me do this."
As you look up at him, the knot in your stomach only tightens in a way that only he can do. Not missing the fear hidden within his warm brown eyes.
"Fine." He defers and you feel like you can finally breath again.
"Thank you sir." The words escape you breathlessly as he only gave you a small nod in acknowledgement.
"Tell the others to be ready out front in twenty."
"Yes, sir." Standing in the doorway, you throw him a subtle but defiant smile, before making your way towards the others to no doubt gloat about getting your way, again.
Here in your absence, he could only laugh at how painfully stubborn you were.
Now, as his knuckles clutched the steering wheel, he only prayed your stubbornness would make you fight to stay alive. During the sting, you were attacked by the unsub and were kidnapped and now en-route to a cabin in the Blue Ridge Mountains, where he tortured all his victims.
"Morgan, any word from Garcia?"
"Ran his name through the database and we got his plates and we know he drives a white '92 Ford F-150." Meeting Derek's gaze briefly through the rearview mirror, he found little comfort in the information.
They had been driving for over half an hour with no leads from any of the local police or park rangers about a possible spotting. His mind was going to overdrive as he thought about what happened to you. Every image of his previous victims flashed behind his eyes as he imagined you meeting a similar fate.
"We'll find them, Aaron." Gideons voice interrupted Hotch's train of thought. He could feel Gideon's gaze burning his side profile. Flickering back up at the mirror, he saw the same compassion mirrored on Elle, Derek, and Spencer's faces.
With his eyes back on the road, he only pressed further on the gas. He had to make it to you in time.
When he saw the truck matching Penelope's description, he skidded onto the shoulder of the road before jumping out and going into the woods.
With his flashlight guiding him throughout the thick forest-line, his footsteps never wavered as he footed deeper into the woods. Over the crunching of leaves underneath his feet, Aaron heard static coming in from his ear-piece.
"I think we're picking up signal on y/n!" Elle's voice barked behind him.
Your voice, though faint, could be heard through the waves of static.
With each step deeper into the thick woods, the static grew faint as your voice becomes clearer through the team's earpiece. What makes Aaron's blood run cold is to hear your cries of pain ringing through his ear.
You tug on your wrists, the rough rope stinging your skin as you pull again. Anything to distract you from the predatory gaze of the unsub. He had you tied in the middle of the room, his figure being the only thing you distinguished in the darkness of the room.
You recognized it from the photos of his previous victims. You were sure if there had been any more light, you would still see the blood stain that adorned the floors. All that time spent paying attention to detail of the crime scene, only to star as its next victim.
You've only been in his possession for a few hours, and you could see how erratic his descent into madness was. Going off course, he had grown impatient. He had your rendered your limbs useless and had skipped entirely over gaining your trust.
He was heavy-handed, and when you initially fought back against the man, you were only met with a blow to the cheek. You could feel the pulsing beneath the swell of what's sure to be a nasty gash on your skin. As well as the taste of blood that gushed into your mouth as he split your lip.
Wiping the blood from his hand, you tried to regain your composure. You knew that there was a low chance of regaining control of the situation. You had nothing to your advantage, and in the back of your mind laid hidden the outcome that you were so fearful to accept.
You swallowed the lump that was lodged in your throat and begin to prepare for your fate when he entered your line of sight. Toeing closer to you, each step heavier than the last. Light from the singular light bulb that dangled over you reflected in the blade within his hand.
"No one is coming to save you." The words might as well have been laced with arsenic the way they burned your heart. Circling around you like prey, goosebumps raised on your skin as he grew closer.
"You're all mine." His warm breath fanning your neck only made your skin crawl. His smile was unmistakable, downright sinister as he envisioned what to do with you as his new muse.
Stopping directly in front of you, he forcefully grabs your chin and harshly lifts your gaze upwards at him. Recoiling at the contact with his clammy skin, you grunt as you try to part from his touch. This only triggered him seeing as he lifted the blade and pressed it gently across your throat.
"Now, now, we wanna play nice don't we?" Mocking you through gritted teeth, his hold on you only became more bruising.
"A shame to see a pretty face like yours go to waste." lifting the blade from its hold across your throat, he glides it ever so faintly across your collarbones and chest. Holding your breath as the tip of the blade ghosted over your skin, knowing even the slightest movement would cause it to pierce.
"But someone's gotta pay the price."
Even as you close your eyes, you can't escape the image of his wicked grin. Your mind raced as you tried to escape to anywhere other than the present moment.
In the whirpool of memories swirling in your head- the ones that flashed the brightest were with him.
Aaron.
The way the morning light of the jet window illuminated his face. The concentration etched on his face during briefings, or the slight furrow of his brows as he was deep in thought. The fleeting smiles shared in secret or the feel of his hand, granting you comfort in the midst of feeling overwhelmed.
Aaron. The man that had become much more than the stoic boss or natural-born leader. You've grown to see the man that he was. The mad who had all the gentleness of flowers in his heart, in his hair, in his gaze.
You're eyes only tighten shut and a pained yelp escapes you as his blade pierces you. The warmth of your blood dripping down your abdomen. You can only squirm at the feel of his closeness.
The sound of a gun going off and the feel of blood spattering causes you to jolt and to open your eyes.
Hotch. Aaron.
His eyes meet yours over his gun and within seconds he's by your side.
When he reaches you, he's saying something but the word come out muffled. You keep catching little words but the meanings thin. Your eyes trail over to scan the corpse of the unsub and immediately you feel Hotch's hand cradle your face.
As if his touch had revived you, you feel your senses flood back and if it weren't for Hotch's grounding touch, you were sure you would spiral.
"Look at me, y/n look at me." With a finger, he raises your chin to shift your eyes towards him. His eyes holding a gentleness, hoping to mask the panic he felt at seeing the bruises and cuts that adorned your skin.
"I need you to say something, okay? Can you talk?"
It took a couple of seconds to register his words, as you opened your mouth, no sound came out. You choked on the air that expelled from your lungs as tears pricked at your eyes.
"Sweetheart" his heart aches as he sees how shaken up you are.
"I've got you it's okay," he reassures you as the pads of his thumbs stroke your cheek. "I'm gonna untie you now, okay?"
You only nod and that was all the confirmation he needed. With a flash he's retrieved his knife from its sheath around his ankle, and begins to saw where you were bound. His fingers wrap around your wrist and soothe at the marked skin.
Slowly he helps you bring your arms down and you're quickly reminded of your exposed state as you look down at your exposed abdomen. As if in sync with your train of thought, Hotch sheds his blazer and hastily engulfs you in it.
"Hey, hey look at me." His words are gentle, whispered lowly so as not to frighten you further in your catatonic state. Tearing your gaze towards him, you can feel your entire body shake, your mind still reeling in from the attack.
"I've got you, I've got you."
With careful movements, he slides his hands underneath your back and knees and lifts you in his arms. As he carries you outside, he ignores the calls of his name from your other team members and instead yells for a medic.
He doesn't leave your side once. Not even when the paramedics are urging him to stand back, not even when Gideon tells him to stand down and step back.
The next time you see Hotch is at your bedside in the brightly lit hospital room. Stirring with a groan, your eyes blink to adjust to the lighting. Scanning the room, you note a slightly disheveled and tie-less Hotch sat beside the edge of your bed. Stretching as much as your achy muscles allowed you to, you let out a sharp hiss as you feel the sting of the skin surrounding your gash marks stretch.
As you winced in pain, Hotch stirs from his sleep and is stunned to see you awake.
"Hey, hey, easy now." In an instant he's on his feet, hovering closely to where you lay.
"I'm okay," you wince as you try to find a more comfortable position. "I'm fine."
"You are not." He raises his eyebrows and gives a pointed look. "That's okay, y/n." You meet his gaze and see the kindness in his words.
"How long have I been out?"
"A couple of hours. The doctors have you cleared but advised you to rest for a few days."
"You're benching me?" A dry laugh escapes as you smile at him teasingly.
"Yes, until I know that you're ready to come back."
There's a beat of silence. As you look around the hospital room you see a vase of flowers perched on the bedside table.
"The team wanted to bring something in hopes of lifting your spirits."
"Spirits lifted." Averting your gaze back to Aaron, you see the familiar brown eyes that you have grown to love so much. A sense of calm blankets over you in the shared closeness of Hotch's presence.
"Thank you."
"The flowers were Garcia's ideas. she remembered what your fav-"
"Aaron-", your voice cuts him off. "Thank you for saving me." You offer him a tired smile and even in your state, Hotch can't ignore the way you stare at him as if he's hung the stars. He only stares as you. The memory of finding you in that cabin fresh, that if he closes his eyes he can still hear your cries and your blood staining both of your clothes as he carried you out.
He shudders a breath as he hangs his head low, struggling to maintain his carefully crafted composure. It was the warmth of your hand grabbing his, that seemed to shatter him.
Looking back at you, his eyes have now glossed over and he realizes that there's no point in fighting, in rationalizing his actions and affections towards you. He grabs your hands and intertwines them and it feels as though a weight has been lifted.
"I don't know what I would have-"
"Don't."
"You have got to learn to stop interrupting your boss." A playful smirk grows on his face.
"You're not my boss right now." You quip back defiantly.
"Then what am I?"
Now it is Aaron who looks at you with pleading eyes. As if you have the power to put him out of his misery- his torment of having to reduce his feelings towards you as something small. There's something in his expression- open, searching, unknowing- that gives you the strength to want to change the narrative between you two.
"The man who saved my life, the one I owe my life to."
With a squeeze of your hand, Aaron allows himself to be something else. He allows himself to be the one you lean on, and for now that's enough.
summary: you and aaron stumble back home into bed together after a night drinking with the team.
wc: 1.2k
cw: FLUFF + some suggestive content (this was totally not based on a dream i had) chat, is it a crime to want to give SSA Aaron Hotchner the NASTIEST slob known to man?
a/n: the things that this man does to me...i deserve to be locked up
“You doing alright, honey?” Aaron’s voice comes out smooth as he raked his eyes over where you sat next to him in the backseat, curled against the window.
You had your forehead pressed against the window, letting the coolness of the glass soothe the impounding headache no doubtfully wanting to wrack itself through your brain.
“Mmm?” Groaning as you fix yourself to sit up straight you look over at him and see that playfully glint in his eye.
“See something you like, Hotchner?” The slur in your speech lets Aaron know that you have not sobered up as much as he initially thought.
“Hmmm, maybe.” Teasing. You knew the game he was playing. You rarely got to see Aaron this open and so unapologetic about being a tease. You’re always satisfyingly pleased when he throws you for a loop like this.
You and the rest of the team had been out for drinks in a bar in Adam’s Morgan, celebrating another successful case. As the team let loose, and even started dancing, you couldn’t help but release your inhibitions even as one certain Supervisory Special Agent had his eyes glued on you the entire night. Aaron wasn’t a heavy drinker, usually opting to nurse a glass of whiskey whenever he tagged along in night like these- but after you pleaded relentlessly for him to join in on the night drinking games well…it became hard to tell you no.
Which led you to your current position. Both of you, drunk in the backseat. The corners of Hotch’s lips curl upwards as he flashes you a smile, seeming so pleased with himself.
“You’re a piece of work you know that?” Throwing him a playful eye roll, you feel his laugh vibrate through his chest as you further lean into him. He had one arm snaked around your frame, his hand settling ontop of your hip. Tightening his hold on you, bringing you further into him.
“You wouldn’t have it any other way, now would you?” Aarons voice rings out even deeper as he whispered lowly into your ear. Lifting your head from where you laid it on his chest, you pull back to meet his eyes and to your amusement, you don’t miss the way they’ve darkened, something new taking over.
You note how you two are practically sharing the same air, feeling his breath softly tickle over yours as his lips were only but an inch away.
“What are you kids up to back there?” Morgan’s voice snaps you out of Hotchs’ spell. Looking through the rearview mirror, you lock eyes with an amused Derek as he doesn’t even try to hide his shit-eating grin.
“Ohhhh nothing,” you say as you lay your hand to rest on Hotchs thigh. Your thumb absentmindedly stroking his pant, your touch burning his skin even through his slacks.
“Better be nothing,” Derek chuckles, “These are fresh leather seats.”
“Would be a shame, huh?” you hum as you bring your hand higher up Hotchs lap. Fingers inching until it rested where he needed it the most.
“y/l/n-“ his voice comes out rougher than expected, clearing his throat as to mask his current plight of maintaining cover acting as if you palming his growing hard-on had no effect on him.
“Fine.” You huff in defeat, giving him one last squeeze before retreating your hand. Turning your attention to watch outside the window as if nothing has happened, you notice the familiar greenery of your driveway coming into view.
“Alright folks ,” Derek sighs as he puts his car into park. “End of the line.” Shoulder slouching as he takes note of the late hour displayed on his stereo.
“You got her, boss? Cause I-” Derek turns just in time to see Hotch attempt to fix his raked through hair.
“We’re fine, Morgan.” Hotch interrupts. “Thank you, have a good night.” The words come out jumbled together, and Hotch makes for his escape before Morgan can take note of the blush creeping up his face.
Walking around the car, your met with the cool night air and Hotch swings your door open.
“Night babygirl!” Derek calls out as Hotch has gotten a hold of you, helping your poorly coordinated body move around.
Shutting the car door a little harder than you initially planned, you bend down to the passenger seat’s open window. Derek gives you a little wave as you smile back drunkenly at him.
“Night Derek,” you whined out.
“Be safe, pretty lady.”
“Oh I actually like when Hotch doesn’t use a con-“
“Goodnight Derek!” Hotch cuts you off, grabbing you from the passenger seat window. Wrapping an arm around you, he leads you into the direction of the front door. The sounds of Derek's howling laughter fading with each step.
After fumbling with the keys, he manages to open the door and get you inside. You've only tossed your bag into the entryway, when you feel him press you against the front door. Towering over you as he caged you in between his arms.
“You've been playing a dangerous game, y/n.” Before you've even the chance to respond he's captured your lips in a bruising kiss. Gasping at the sudden contact, he takes the opportunity to invade your mouth with his tongue. You can still taste the whiskey on his tongue as it moved with yours. Your hands crawl upwards until they tangle in his hair. With one particularly tighter tug, a moan escapes him.
Tilting his head backwards, you're able to finally catch your breath. Your lungs stinging as the cool air finally penetrate them again. As Hotch's chest rises and falls with each pant, combined with the low stare Aaron's giving you, you're arousal only seems to grow.
"I think i'll take my chances then," you let out breathlessly.
"Is that so?"
“You wouldn’t have it any other way, would you now?” Mirroring his words from earlier. He only smiles at your comment, closing the distance between you once again as he places a peck on your lips.
And another one.
And another.
"C'mon." With a tug of your hand he leads you down to your bedroom. You beeline straight towards the foot of the bed, landing with a humph. Toeing your shoes off, they clatter onto the floor as you feel Hotch's figure come closer. As you lift your head from your previous slouched position, your met with Aaron's belt buckle as it stands eye-level with you.
"Well hellooo sailor," you practically gawked at the metallic buffer, blocking the one thing that you've been craving for all night. "Finally have you all to myself."
You wrap a hand around his buckle and tug on it only to not get any reaction.
Looking up at Aaron, you see him typing away on his phone. Texting. As if you're not staring up at him with a hungry look in your eyes.
"Aaron?"
"Yes, dear?" His fingers still happily click away.
"Aaroonn-" the whine comes out high pitch as you pull on his buckle again. Letting out a defeated huff of air, you pout as look up at Aaron. When he finally looks over to you, he can't help but chuckle at your frustrated state.
"Ohh. I know what you want." Shutting off his phone he tosses it onto the nightstand, directing his full attention to you. His hand rests on his hips. Now standing up to his full height, his crotch is even closer to your face, and you feel as though your close to cashing out and winning big for the night.
"Then give it to me, sir."
Hotch is on you in an instant. Your back hits the mattress and he has either of your wrists pinned underneath his hands. Boxing you in completely, again.
pairings: natasha romanoff x gn!reader (one instance where it can be interpreted as fem!reader)
summary: "i know better but i still feel you all around." you never envisioned a life spent with natasha, so what do you do now that the aftershocks of her death has uprooted your life?
wc: 2.5k
a/n: I cannot speak of my grief over natasha, so enjoy this instead! + this is me cleaning out my drafts so im sorry if quality is trash </3
You never loved the beach. You never loved the beach until you met her.
Having been assigned on a mission together in Los Angeles, you found yourself on the sand far more times than you cared for.
"Oh, you're being ridiculous it's not that bad."
"I'd rather die."
Even behind her tinted aviators, there was no denying that signature playful glint shinning in her eyes. She loved how you had a flair for the dramatics, always teasing how she's the only one who could ever put up with it.
"Look, it's only for a couple of hours until we make sure that Stavros meets his guys here."
"And not a second more."
Hours slipped away as you two soaked up the sun. You could live in this moment forever. The sound of waves crashing against the shore matched the ferocity of your heart beating in your chest. You were full of love, consumed by it. Yet how could you not.
The way her sun-kissed skin seemed to soak up the sun, how her hair danced in the gentle ocean breeze, and how peaceful she looked as she she slept in the sand.
You feared the inevitable- dreaded it even. Yet lying next to her, unable to look away, you knew it was too late.
Your bond only continued to grow, spending more time both on and off the clock. Using any excuse to be near each other in hopes of learning something new, even though that seemed impossible. Natasha was the first person you felt like you could be completely open and honest with. You were surprised yet relieved when she told you she felt the same way.
Things in those days were still fresh, you both were equally fully of worry and reservation. The fear of ruining an already incredible bond preventing either of you from pursuing something greater. There was a silent understanding of this- despite the circumstance, you and Natasha continued on as you knew best. Pushing each other to be greater, being each others cheerleader, and truly wanting the best for each other after seeing the potential you both possessed.
Each moment shared together played on repeat in your mind until you could see her again. Late nights spent sparring in the gym, pool games at dive bars, and endless romcom movie marathons that only were only respected by Wanda.
The endless messages exchanged during meeting whenever Steve would go on forever. The getaways spent upstate thanks to Natasha swiping the keys to one of Tony's many many cars. The late night spent revealing sins to each others, and the darkest memories and fears that haunted us. The comfort that lasted till morning when you awoke to another sunrise wrapped in each other's arms. Each moment spent with her was truly magical.
You felt yourself falling deeper in love with Natasha with each passing day. You had reached a point where you couldn't remember life without her by your side, and the thought of having to go back to that terrified you both.
"I don't want this to be what splits us." Running your hands over your face, a tired sigh escaped your lips. The stress of the Sokovia Accords had everyone on edge and you and Natasha were no exception.
"I don't see why it has to," Natasha exaggerated. Her patience growing thinner after the countless back and forth and still not seeing eye to eye.
"You know why," you objected sharply. "it's not right, Nat. You know that." Your eyes met her with an unwavering look of defiance. There was no swaying you to change your mind. She always knew you were so stubborn.
"I know," she admitted.
"Then why are you signing?!" Throwing your hands in frustration you don't immediately notice the boom in your voice as you spoke.
It wasn't until Natasha swallowed thickly before averting her gaze towards the ground that you realized your mistake. Your shoulders slump as you let out a tired sigh. You felt that you were at a crossroads, and there was no right answer in which way you moved.
"I want us to stay together, it doesn't matter how," she emphasized, the edge in her voice unmistaken as she enunciated each word. Green eyes looked up at me through silky lashes, behind a determined look I saw the sadness in the mist of green eyes.
In that moment you felt all your fears cement into reality. You knew there was no way both of you could win and your heart broke as you both pledged your allegiance to opposing sides of another mans war.
Looking up at her you saw the same exact heartbreak in her eyes. You reached your breaking point, as the room seemed to close in you bolted out of your seat and aimed for the door. As your hand squeezed the handle, you hesitated- for a brief second. You didn't want to walk out on her, it was the last thing you ever though of doing.
Sparing her a final look, you see the stoic expression on her face. You always knew she was stubborn, but the hardened expression on her face only further proved what you already knew. There was no changing her mind, just as much as there wasn't changing any yours.
"It does to me."
You fought on opposing sides of a pointless war. When the dust settled, there was no morning glory to be found in its aftermath. Just bitter resentment and heartache as the family you've fought beside for years was no more.
Now considered an enemy of the state, you fled the country, not knowing if you would ever come back. By the time Steve had told you how Natasha helped him and Bucky flee, it was already too late. You were thousands of miles away and burned too many bridges that could never be crossed over again.
You thought about writing, but what could you say? Too much was said and done last, you didn't think there was ever coming back from that. You spent the next two years trying to erase the memory of her. Proving quite difficult as you saw her in everything, her love still being the fire that kept you warm even miles away.
You dreamt of a time where you would come face to face with her again. You've rehearsed the apologies you would say and the confessions you would lay bare if you ever were to see her face again. Yet all that flew out of the window as she stood in front of you, finding you amidst the crowded market square.
"Natasha?" Despite her hair now blonde and much shorter, you still could recognize her face in any crowd.
"Just shut up." She said, catching you off guard.
Taken aback, you sighed deeply as you gave her your full attention. Taking in her full appearance, you note her lose tank and green skirt that flowed with the summers breeze. You don't think you've ever seen her in something that colorful. Despite all the changes, she's still Natasha. You still saw the girl you fell in love with all those years ago on that beach.
The crease between her eyebrow reveals how Natasha seemed deep in thought. Hesitant to speak what's on her mind as she darted between your eyes, weighing her options.
"I never wanted to rely on anyone for anything," she began. "I thought that if I could be independent and alone then I could avoid the pain that comes from losing people."
Fidgeting with her fingers and from the bite marks on her lip, you sensed the urgency behind her words.
"I don't wanna live like that anymore," she confessed urgently. As if she could no longer bear having such a brilliant truth hidden for a second longer. "I love you y/n. I think I have for a long time now but I was just too scared to admit it- and I know things are complicated but i'm ready for this. I want this. I want us-" Stopping suddenly, feeling breathless the longer she looked in your eyes. "You. I want you."
"I love you."
Time seemed to slow down in that moment. The sound of thousands of people packed in the Brazilian market faded to nothing as you looked at her, her words echoing in your head. If Nat had felt even an ounce of relief from getting the truth of her chest, her face didn't show it. She had this look on her face, you studied for it moment before you realized what it was- fear.
She thought you would walk away. That you would scoff at her confession, see through her for what she thought she was, flawed.
She couldn't have been farther from truth. Her eyebrows furrowed in mix of shock and confusion when she felt a finger tilting her chin upward. Swallowing thickly, she awaited cruel rejection. However, seeing the adoration behind your eyes, she let herself believe that maybe there was some room for redemption. The corner of her lip curled upwards before the both of broke into breathless laughs, the twinkle in her eyes making your heart soar as it sang Natasha's name.
"I love you too."
After that, you never knew a life without Natasha. Having fought in Wakanda and losing so much during The Blip, you two became each other's anchor.
Never wanting to be away from her again, you moved back to New York. You helped direct the remaining Avengers as missions were still executed and help was needed everywhere. Despite the darkness that the world was wrapped up in, you and Natasha were each other's lighthouse, guiding each other back to shore.
It wasn't until Scott came barging on the compounds door and the the rest of the team got together for the time heist that hope would shine for the first time in a long time.
"Are you sure you don't want me to come instead," you lowly ask as you and the rest of the team prepare for the time heist.
"I'm gonna pretend to not be offended by that." Clint chimed in as he made his way past us.
"Shut up Barty, please!" He throws his hands up in surrender as he's met by your annoyed gaze. You don't miss hearing Bruce chuckle as he typed away on the control panels.
Facing Natasha again, you're met with her amused smile as she looked up at you.
"I promise I'll be fine," she insisted. "Clint's got my back-right Barty?!"
Clint just grunts in acknowledgment.
"Trust me?" Raising her eyebrows as she lifted her open palm toward you.
Taking her hand and turning it over, you placed a chaste kiss onto it.
"Damn right I do," you say, never breaking eye contact.
Not missing the way her cheeks flushed at the sudden gesture you bring her in and capture her lips in a soft kiss. Earning a wolf-whistle from Tony in the process.
As you all stood in a circle on the platform, ready to go back in time in hopes of bringing everyone back, your eyes meet Natasha's again. Heart fluttering as it did everytime you looked at her.
"See you in a minute." Her eyes glimmering as she smiled at you.
Those words replayed in your head in a constant loop for months. You never got to say goodbye, and that's what killed you the most.
You never were good with grief, and having lost so many people because of Thanos, you spiraled into a depression that lasted the better half of a year.
Yet when you were ready to face that grief, it was Yelena who was there for you. She was one of the few people around who understood what it meant to lose Natasha. To have known and loved her so intimately, and have that taken away.
Staring out into the same sea at the same beach where you first fell for your blue-jeaned baby, as comforting hand on your shoulder shakes you from your thoughts. Startled by the sudden presence your eyes look up frantically to meet with Yelena's concerning gaze.
"Hey," her voice soft, "you okay?"
"Hey-um, yeah, i'm fine really." You shake your head furiously as you blink away your tears. Meeting her eyes again, the love and sincerity that poured behind Yelena's eyes was enough to make the damn burst.
"No," you croak as a sob wracks itself out of your body. Engulfing you in her arms, you burrow your head in Yelena's shoulder as grief's uncharted weight washes over you.
"I know what she meant to you. She told me about a month after taking down the Red Room. I never would've taken her for a U-hual lesbian."
A laugh escapes your lips. Looking back on it, things did happen rather quickly. After taking down Dreykov, she felt a new found purpose in life, a need to reconnect with family and loved ones.
"Yeah, well it was a long time coming," you let out softly. You pull out of her arms, wiping away at your dried tears.
"Thank you, Yelena. I know what she meant to you too."
You don't miss the sadness that flickers in Yelena's eyes.
"She meant to look for you earlier. She told me about you while staying at one of Tony's safe house", you sigh reflecting on the confessions said that night. The fire and a shared bottle of whiskey having kept you both warm that night. "She never stopped thinking about you."
"I know," she affirms, voice shaky. "Thank you."
You offer her a soft smile, eyes crinkling as you giver her arm a reassuring squeeze. Yelena then locks arms with you, a sudden peace washing over you like the waves ashore you were watching.
"Are you gonna be okay?" Looking over at her, you note the blonde wisps of hair that moved with the wind.
"Are any of us?" She doubled back with a smirk, earning a chuckle from you.
A brief silence falls over you two. One full of reluctant acceptance as it is with sadness.
"I promised I wouldn't say goodbye." You barely heard her. You almost thought you hadn't from how low she spoke.
Looking back towards the water, if you didn't know any better you'd think she was still around. If you thought about it long enough, you could still make out Natasha's footprints scattered across the sand. Or how graceful she looked dancing in the sand.
You could hear the sweetness of her laughter as not even the call of the seagulls could sing a finer melody.
You can still feel the warmth of her pirate smile, shinning bright as she looked at you from over her shoulder.
As the wind picked up you closed your eyes and let the memories of your sweet summers spent with Natasha flash before you. If you didn't know any better, you'd think she was talking to you now. Through the way the wind echoed her whispers of "I love you."
Opening your eyes, the warmth and love of those memories still sprout inside you, even as your met with the sight of the beach's barren winter. She's still here, always with me.
"Maybe you don't have to."
You know better, but you still feel her all around.
summary: "darlin' don't you stand there watching, won't you come and save me from it?" or having tempted you into a life a sin, crowley realizes he's gone too far and tries to save you before it's too late
wc: 4.9k
cw: drug abuse, depression, near death experience, power imbalance, complicated relationship dynamics.
a/n: uni has kept me away, terribly sorry. this has been in my drafts for a while, i hope u all enjoy and pls leave feedback. (inspo from hozier + paris paloma)
Your mind is foggy as you lose all control of your body. Ears ringing from the music that's playing too loudly, eyes hazy from the smoke that crowds the dancefloor, and head shaky as the world around you moves in a blur. Has it been merely hours or days since you first started dancing, you couldn't tell. Your mind wouldn't let you think that far back. You stand amidst the crowd occupying the dance floor, losing yourself to the music of the night, and letting yourself only feel the pure bliss that the life of sweet sin seemingly always offered you. Just across the dance floor, with an arm perched on the bar stood Crowley. Dressed sleek in his signature all black look, they nursed a drink in their hand as they watched you from afar. Crowley had always been enamored by your shameless wonder, and even now after millenniums of having been at each others side, they still find you just as wonderous as he did back in the beginning.
Amongst the angels that served as guardians of the gates of Eden, lied you. An angel with strength and beauty that showed the power of the Almighty Herself. When the Garden was no more and the humans you swore to protect were outcast, Crawley, as you knew him before, was there to witness how you had fallen for God's newest creation.
"Here. Take these." With hushed whispers, you shield Eve from the prying eyes of the Garden, unaware of the serpent that remained coiled in the corner, as you reach into your robes to retrieve the several stems of hyssop that you had picked from the garden.
"But I-"
"You mustn't worry about what the Almighty says. Despite her anger, she still will watch over you as will I." Looking up at her, your heart contracts seeing the fear etched on Eve's face as she now prepares to face the world outside the sacred garden.
"I never meant for any of this to happen," Eve's voice comes out small, like a child scolded.
"I know," you say softly, "but there is still a way to make things right."
Grabbing her hand, you softly place the stems of the hyssop into her open palm. Inspecting the purple buds that adorn the plant, her eyebrows furrow in curiosity as to what the plant’s purpose is.
"You will soon find out that each passing month, you will undergo painful cycles where you will shed blood. This will only last a couple of days, but the pain that comes with it can be unbearable. This..." you cup the bottom of her hand that held the plant, "will help ease the pain that you will feel. Plant it, multiply it, and when the time comes, make a tea and it shall work."
Eve softly closes her fist, careful not to crush the delicate buds within her grasp.
"Thank you," she murmurs.
"Of course." You smile reassuringly and for the last time you see the glimmer of hope that lives in Eve, even if hidden behind her anxieties of what was to come.
You fly over the gates, in your own way saying goodbye to the fortress you have grown to love, wings slowly flapping steadily in place as you watch Adam and Eve venture out into the unknown.
"Well that was awfully kind of you-"
"My Lord!" Gasping loudly, your hand clutches your chest and your wings flare as you're caught off guard by the sudden presence at your side.
After a beat of catching your breath, you look over at the intruder and when you do, you have to do a double take. They look so familiar but...no...it can't be?
"Crawley?"
"I'm sorry do I know you?"
"Ye- oh, well I suppose not." Words dying off as you remember the rumours of Crowley's torment that followed after their fall from grace.
"I'm Y/N!" Your voice comes out more cheerfully this time, as you flash him a smile.
"Pleasure. Right, well like I mentioned, that was awfully kind what you did back there," turning his head to the side to look at you, he's met with your brows furrowed in confusion as to what he's going on about. "With the hyssop? I mean that was bloody brilliant and that's gonna save her a lot more heartache in the long run."
"Oh! Yes! Well I had to help, I can only imagine what she's bound to go through." You look back over to the lone two figures far in the distance within the desert, it'll be nightfall soon and you can only hope that they find shelter sometimes soon.
Crowley studies your profile as your gaze remains forward. You truly are a creature rarely seen and in those wholesome eyes that seem to have the light of the stars within them, he sees the darkness of the lonesomeness that lingered beneath.
"How did you come to grow so fond of them?"
"They had a choice and in the eyes of the Almighty they chose wrong," your face falls, a defeated sigh escaped your lips as you turn to fix your gaze unto Crowley. "Despite the punishments they face, they face them together. They have a companion and they're capable of so much love and so much more than what I believe any of us can imagine."
"You wish to live like them?"
"I'm afraid I can't. My duty is to the Almighty."
"I'm sure they would do good having someone on watch, hm? If you could protect them, then you can do good here at least enough to y'know make sure they don't ruin things all over again."
"Crowley?"
They hum in acknowledgement.
"How'd you know about my gift to Eve?"
Shit.
"I erm..I-I'm sorry, what?"
"Were you watching me?" You grin ear to ear as you tease the demon, face warming at the thought of Crowley having watched your every move from afar.
"Crowley, you really are the devil." You laugh as you nudge their side playfully with your elbow.
When they try to do the same, a flap of your wings allows you to just barely miss their aim, and your laugh only grows at the sight of their widened expression.
"Ohhh Angel, you're in for it now." His seemingly threatening words fall short of any true malice, only mischief as they invite you in- making you fall deeper within his trap the longer you looked at the wicked grin on his face. Heart soaring as the two of you flew over the desert sky together, the beginning of something new.
You couldn't have envisioned the life that you would lead forward from that fateful day. Perhaps it had been also been your destiny to fall for temptation back in the Garden, your innocence having died screaming since Crowley slithered from Eden. Lifetimes have passed since then and you've seen everything that humanity had to offer. Yet despite having seen it all, you still fell victim to your own loneliness. Hiding your relationship with Crowley from Heaven's back came with a heavy tax. There would be periods when the shame and guilt you carried would become too much and the light in your eyes would fade. Whenever you felt this way, you would often turn to your vices in order to numb the pain. Crowley knew of this, in fact it wasn't uncommon for the two of you to indulge in illicit substances together, your hunger for more only growing the more you indulged. While they always tempted you to indulge in the sweetness of sin, they wondered if this time they've gone too far.
He's had quite a few already but that doesn't make him slow down. Raising the glass to his lips, his eyes remain fixed on you as even in the darkness, you still illuminated a heavenly glow.
"Some things never change", he thought to himself.
Yet even in your glow, they don’t miss the vacancy behind your eyes. The light that they had spent all of an eternity getting lost in had vanished and instead a storm of emotions were buried just beneath. It was only a matter of time before the storm would grow stronger and Crowley knew it as well as you did. You always were clever, and tried your damnedest to keep them hidden from everyone, especially Crowley, but it was no use. The demon had a tendency to see right through you and it was one of the things you loved most about them, but right now it was the very thing that annoyed you the most.
"Crowley," even telepathically they don't miss the tired and slurred hush of your voice as it echoes within his head, the various substances you've indulged in wiring your system. "Don't you stand there watching, won't you come and save me from it?"
You know that they've heard you, it wasn't uncommon for you and Crowley to communicate like this. So when they finally break their gaze and turn their shoulder to face the bartender again, your heart sinks thinking that they won't come to save you. You feel your face grow hot in embarrassment as you mentally scold yourself for being so vulnerable.
When Crowley turns around from closing his tab, you've vanished from the crowd and have already sought shelter in the bathroom. Clutching onto the sink for dear life, ragged breaths come out of your lips as you feel warm tears fall down your face. As you look at your reflection in the mirror, your torment only grows as your stomach twists in disgust by what you see.
"Oh Angel, how the mighty have fallen." You say self-deprecatingly as you harshly wipe at the tears in your eyes. Despite appearances, you weren't the angel you once were. Yet you knew that if Heaven saw you for what you were, you too would fall from grace.
With shaky hands you reach into your pocket and pull out a small golden vial- a gift from Crowley from the 20s. You unscrew the top as you gently tap the white powder onto the back of your hand. With a sniff, a rush courses through you as you feel the effects of the drug only enhance your already intoxicated state. As you tuck the vial away again and fix your appearance, you brace yourself for the world outside.
As you emerge your way back to the dance floor, your vision becomes hazy as the bright lights bounce around the crowd. In its wake, they illuminate one familiar face. They've never been the best dancer per se, but they always knew how to lose themselves in the moment.
As they come up from behind you, hands planting themselves on your hips as he presses your bodies together. Even as much as you feel yourself wanting to relinquish control to them a part of you holds back-desperately wanting nothing more than to be saved.
"Darlin', don't you join in you're supposed to drag me away from it."
"I'm here, love. I'm here." The breath of his whisper tickles the nape of your ear.
You knew you would be safe with Crowley, but the deep ache for salvation clouded your judgement. The infinite number of substances coursing through your veins only brought about infinite shame.
"Crowley," you sigh, "please."
You turn your head to look at him over the shoulder, and Crowley stills. The buzz and electricity of the nightclub die once he sees the loneliness shining through your pleading eyes, breaking his heart with every second.
"Right, come on then."
He takes your hand as he leads you away from the crowd and back into the streets of London. Despite having been on Earth for millenniums, one thing you never grew to get used to was how unbearably cold it can get. Crowley knows this, so he gives you his jacket and tucks you into his side as he rubs your arms comfortingly, hoping to warm you up.
"I'll get the car," they say facing you as you both stop on the edge of the sidewalk. They see your gaze fixated on the floor and know that your mind is elsewhere, probably worlds away from where they are.
"You gonna be alright?" Hooking a finger underneath your chin, they raise your head to finally look at them again.
"Yeah," your voice comes out shaky as you take a deep breath. "I'll be fine, Crowley." You try to give them a reassuring smile but it never quite reaches your eyes.
Crowley feels guilty for the way you feel, blaming themself for pushing you too far and not having listened to your signs earlier.
"Go." Your voice breaks them out of their thoughts. "Please, Crowley."
"Right. I'll be back yea?"
"Okay."
You watch him walk away further into the crowded streets, disappearing as he turns into the parking garage. Fumbling in your pockets you take out the pack of cigarettes that Crowley keeps in his jacket and you light one up. Thankfully the bentley doesn't come into view until you squash your cigarette bud underneath your boot.
When you get in there's no music playing, and it's like that the entire ride home. The only thing heard is the ambience of the passing city, the unbearable street traffic, and the heavy silence that lingers between the two of you. Every couple of minutes, Crowley's eyes shift over to you as you lean your head against the passenger window, eyes taking in the passing scenery.
"Eyes on the road, please." You mumbled, speaking for the first time in the past twenty minutes.
"They speak." Crowley narrated half amusingly.
"Not now, love. Not tonight please."
Crowley feels a sting at your words, not because they were necessarily hurtful but because they knew that you were hurting inside and at the cause of their hands. They turn their head back to the road in front and grip the steering wheel tighter, dreading the long night that's bound to unravel.
You hadn't realized that you've arrived at your apartment until Crowley placed a hand over your thigh and gently shook your leg.
"Sweetheart, we're here."
As you come back to your senses you see your apartment building right outside the window, the kitchen light glowing faintly from inside.
"Thank you," you don't spare a look at Crowley as you prepare to bid goodbye. As you go to pull onto the car handle, you feel it stiffen as the door locks itself.
"Crowley-"
"Not until you tell me what's wrong."
Finally looking up at them you take in how disheveled their is. No longer in a neat quiff but instead had strands falling all over the place. Right hand still gripped tightly around the steering wheel while their left hand remained free.
You know where this was going, you've played this game many times before with the demon but you had very little patience tonight.
"Crowley, please not tonight. I just want to be alone."
"You know better than I do that I can't let that happen."
"Why not?" You spat out, tilting your head at them albeit daringly. Only to be met by their squinting eyes as you both relieve the same memory of the past.
A momentary shock flashed across both Aziraphale's and Crowley's face as they made each others figure out as the dust of their sudden apparition settled.
"Angel? What are you-"
"The same reason why you are here. I could feel it."
Crowley swallowed thickly, nodding in acknowledgement of the celestial force that had brought both the angel and demon here in the living room of your flat.
Aziraphale had been shelving books when he first felt it. Crowley had been downing a whiskey at the pub when he felt it. At first it had hit them dully, making them stop in their tracks. Moments later, the pain radiated every fiber of the celestials beings, bringing them to their knees. It felt like a burning. Like the heat of a thousand suns had consumed them and they instantly recognized that pain. Having felt it plentiful during the rebellion, with the images of war and bloodshed still vivid in their minds even after all this time. The horror that consumed them as angels they both knew and loved met either their untimely end or their damning descent.
You were slipping from this form, from this world, and both Crowley and Aziraphale could feel every ounce of that pain.
"Right, where are they?!" Crowley seethed as he begin to pace around the living room.
"They must be around here somewhere, shall we split up?" Aziraphale anxiously met Crowley's gaze as he flexed his hand at his side rhythmically. Nervous habit.
"I'll take upstairs." With that the demon bolted upstairs and began his search as Aziraphale remained in the lower level of your flat. Echoes of your name rung out as they both called out to you.
It was the howling of Aziraphale's name that sent the angel running upstairs to Crowley. Dread weighing on his tongue with every step he took. The swung door and bright light emanating from the bathroom drew him in the right direction as he called out to Crowley.
As Aziraphale appeared in the doorway, he froze at the scene that laid in front of him. Crowley sunken on the floor with your limp frame cradled in his arms.
"What in Heaven's name happened?" Aziraphale breathed out, wide eyed in shock.
"I didn't- I don't know-th-they just-", words seem to fail Crowley, even more so than usual. Forming words took to much strength when the only thing he could feel, see, and taste was fear.
Aziraphale's face hardened as a defiance washed over him. Not tonight. Swallowing his fear down, Aziraphale sprung into action and was at your side.
Your skin was scalding and burned Aziraphale when he tried to touch you. Streaks of blood adorned your nose and cupids bow. Your heart was beating too fast and your breathing was too shallow.
Crowley smoothed your hair back as he took note of the sheen of sweat that adorned your forehead.
"Don't you dare give up on me. Do you hear me y/n?" Crowley croaked through how impossibly tight his throat felt. "You're not going anywhere."
"Crowley, look at me." Aziraphale urged, voice steady as he tried hard to be level headed.
Crowley was rocking back and forth, looking down on you as he muttered incoherently beneath his breath. Aziraphale saw the way Crowley had been unraveling and while he understood why, he knew that they needed to join heads in order to save you.
"Crowley," Aziraphale whispered as he placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. This seemed to snap Crowley back to reality as his gaze finally tore away from your face and fixated upon Aziraphale's. He couldn't breathe right, not that he needed the air anyways, but he took note of how hard his chest had been heaving. His wide eyes darted frantically between Aziraphale's as he searched for some kind of answer.
"What do we do?"
Aziraphale knew that they couldn't call for help. Who on earth could possibly help revive an angel back to life. This was something that would need divine intervention, and then he realized the only option they had left.
"A miracle?" It came out whispered, as if he himself wasn't sure of it.
"Aziraphale..."
"It's the only way."
The two only stared at each other. Communicating through panicked breaths and wide eyes searching for another answer yet reaching defeat and accepting that there was none.
"On my count. 1...2...3!" Crowley boomed as he and the angel intertwined hands and placed them over your chest.
A warm yellow light engulfed the entire room, blinding both Aziraphale and Crowley from each other as they both drew from their respective forces to perform this act. They lose all sense of time in the light of their miracle and it isn't until Crowley feels you stir within their arms that he opens his eyes.
"Y/N?"
Serpentine eyes meet yours as you fluttered your eyes open, slowly regaining consciousness. Your eyes darting everywhere as the world around you is still out of focus, you gain an inkling of clarity once Aziraphale's cool blue eyes meet yours.
You were dying, you knew that much. You had been toeing the line between life and death and death had nearly had its claim on you. Yet somehow in the space between, it had been Aziraphale and Crowley who saved you. Bringing you back home to them.
"That won't happen again and I've been fine since, Crowley." Venom lacing your every word as you stared at him coldly.
That night had been your rock bottom. The sixties were a time of radical change for everyone and it was in the drug liberation movement that your substance abuse had found its spark.
"Now, if you don't mind I'll just-" and with a wave of your hand you miracled the car to unlock itself.
As you climb out of the car, you have to cling to the door as your legs nearly give out on you. As the cold air nips at your skin, sending a shiver through your spine, you try to stop the world from spinning just long enough to get into your apartment.
As you wade through the grass you hear Crowley call after you. Ignoring them, you slot your key into your front door and relief fills your senses as you finally pry the front door open. Turning around to shut the door, your met with Crowley's chest as they stand in the entryway.
"I don't need a babysitter, Crowley." Your gaze cold as you tilt your head upwards to face them.
"Clearly, you do." Walking around you, Crowley makes his way further into your flat before seeking seeking refuge in the living room.
With a huff, you close the door and make your way further into your flat. Feeling Crowley close by as you entered and exited every room as you got changed. Their gaze never left yours, meanwhile you were doing everything in your power to ignore him. The task had proven itself difficult after 42 minutes. As Crowley watched you place a kettle for tea, his patience finally had worn thin.
"Is this what we're going to do? Keep silent all bloody night," their voice flat in annoyance as their stare bore into the back of your head.
A clatter rang out as you slammed the kettle back down on the burner. The anger from your manic state had been simmering for a while and Crowley's comment was enough to make it erupt.
"What do you want from me, Crowley?!" You bellowed as your eyes grow wide and crazed, meeting his daringly.
"I want us to quit using!!"
The boom in Crowley's voice was strong enough to rattle the flat, causing your wine glass from earlier to slide off the kitchen table and shatter on the floor.
You stare at the shattered glass on the carpeted floor. There it is. The big truth, the one that seemed to be seeping in your brain as fast as the crimson stain setting in your carpet.
"What?" Your voice came out a low murmur as your focus remained on the floor.
Crowley's chest deflates as they let out a heavy sigh. One that they've been holding for decades. You knew you didn't want to, you knew you loved it that much. Crowley also knew that, as much as it pained him. Having seen the destruction he's caused from his own hand, he never thought you were to get burned in his fire. Having swept you away from a paradise and into a world of sin, Crowley can't help but blame themself for the way things have ended up. They should have protected you better from it.
"I think maybe we should quit. All the drugs, all the drinking, at least for a little while." Voice teetering on remaining cool as they bargain with you.
"Go to hell," you sneer as you bump into his shoulder purposefully.
"Oh, I've been and it's actually quite lovely this time of year! The pipes have just gone through cleaning." Crowley barks as you march off.
The shattering of glass echoed throughout the flat as the fuel of you and Crowley's fire burned hotter at each passing second. Insults and accusations hurled at each other as you two miscommunicated.
"Y/N, don't you see what this is doing to us? What this is doing to you? This isn't us!" Hands waving frantically between your bodies, hoping to prove their point.
Coming to a halt from your previous march, you slowly turn to face the demon once more.
"And who exactly are we, Crowley?"
"Not this." A sigh elates from their lips as their shoulders slouch.
A moment of silence falls over the two of you. With the air still thick from all the tension, you can't see reason or rationality from the smoke of you and Crowley's fire.
"Devil," you call him slow and unsteady, hands shaking as they did long ago.
"When you stole my virtue, did you foresee that the fruits of my innocence would come to die far too young? Did you know the path I would take and what I would lose on it?" You close the distance between you as you slowly walk towards him.
"Angel, you know I didn't-"
"Then why did you do this to me?"
Crowley is stunned to silence. Throughout the entirety of your relationship, Crowley has carried a guilt for exposing you to a life of sin. Yet it wasn't until know that their fears would be confirmed as they stood their reeling in the weight out your accusation.
"Angel please-"
"You opened my eyes and you did this to me!"
Your screams rung out, piercing Crowley's ears with each slam of your fists across their chest. Walking backwards, Crowley tried to calm you down from your fury. Grabbing a hold of your wrists before flipping you where your back now was pressed against the wall.
"Let me go, let me go," you seethed through gritted teeth. Body thrashing against them as you fought to escape their hold.
"This is what I'm talkin' about," Crowley hissed. "This isn't you, love. You've lost control of your body, you feel no safety in my arms, we're constantly at each others throats. You don't trust me, y/n."
Your body slacks underneath Crowley's hold as the weight of his words cut through you like a knife.
"I've no language left to say it y/n, but I cannot go on like this any longer."
"Why didn't you stop me?", you mumble beneath your breath.
"I didn't know it would get this out of hand. If I knew, I would take it back in a second. I would have never sought you out in the Garden."
You can't help the soft smile that graces your lips as the warm memories from Eden flash in your mind. The days spent in paradise and time spent in playful innocence with Crowley. You've come a long way since then, and as quickly as it came your smile fell as you take in how far you've fallen from grace.
"I didn't mean for this to happen," your voice cracks as the weight of your shame come hurling towards you again, threatening to throw you overboard.
Your visions begins to blur and without a moments notice, a sob wracks itself out of your body. Crowley cups the sides of your face as he places kisses all over your face, whispering apologies between each kiss.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry love, I promise we'll make it out of this. I promise I will make it up to you."
Your cries become muffled as they pull you into their chest, hands smoothing your back comfortingly.
"What if I can't stop?" Your voice comes out hoarse. You don't know how long you've been in Crowley's arms, but your cries have now died down to sniffles as a drowsiness seeps into your bones. "What if we can't make it out of this one?"
Pulling away slightly to get a clear view of you, Crowley see's the tiredness in your eyes.
"I promise I will do whatever it takes to make sure we survive, that you survive."
"It's hungry work." You didn't feel worthy of Crowley's love or care, feeling guilty of the burden you've placed on them.
"Not for me." Crowley shakes his head defiantly. "Not if it's you."
"I don't deserve this. I've been unkind to you, I can't give you what you want-"
"Y/N, when I met you I swore I had dreamed you. A creature so beautiful, so loving, never having asked me once about the wrong I did. I can only pray I can show you a shred of the light you have given me."
Crowley's devotion remained unwavering. Seeing the light in his eyes as he pledged his loyalty made your heart ache a little less, and the pain less unbearable. Crowley noticed your eyes ever seeking, head reeling a million thoughts but not asking, for in some sad way he already knows.
"I know what it's like to carry the shame and hate of some other man's beliefs, let me carry that with you," he pleaded.
Flickering between his yellow eyes, the love that poured from them made you feel lighter. You knew that the road to recovery would be long and present its own trials, but you didn't have to face them alone. In fact, you never would have to feel alone anymore.
"I'm all in- I need to know you still want this, that you still want me."
Nodding slowly, a smile cracks itself on your face.
HANNIBAL | 2013-2015
I let you know me. See me. I gave you a rare gift. But you didn’t want it. / You cannot control with respect to whom you fall in love.
pairings: crowley x angel!reader, gn!reader (aziracrow x reader if you squint)
summary: having stood through the testaments of time, as Heaven and Hell's forces and anger grow closer every day, you and Crowley must both make a choice but what fateful consequences lie in store for star-crossed lovers
cw: hurt/comfort, lotta hurt tho, angst,
wc: 4.5k
a/n: UPDATED ON 9/23!!!! inspo came from a dream, romeo + juliet, and 'romeo' by until the ribbon breaks. working on a masterlist currently and hope to get it up soon. tysm for your support and enjoy :)
The party was in full swing and you found yourself getting lost within the noise of William Shakespeare's famous parties. You were currently backstage in one of the parlors where you, Crowley, and Aziraphale had joined Shakespeare and his fellow actors and other socialites in celebrating another successful opening night.
"I mean it, William. You are just absolutely brilliant, I mean you're ability to capture human emotion and spirit, well it's just marvelous!" Aziraphale had spent the better half of the night praising the poet as he truly felt starstruck by his talent.
"Yea, yea the blokes alright. You should've seen him when he was just starting out, now the bastard his own theatre." Crowley sneered as they took another sip of the mead they carried in their hand.
"He's more than alright, you can admit that. He's quite the poet." You look at them with an amused smirk as though daring them to disagree.
" 'O, speak again, bright angel! For thou art as glorious to this night', trust me love, I would not be here had you and Aziraphale put up such a fight," the demon recites almost mockingly.
"Now look who's the poet?"
"Enjoying ourselves are we dear?" Aziraphale shakes you from your thoughts as he appears before you and Crowley sort of breathless.
"Seems like you are, Angel," Crowley quips back.
"Oh just marvelous really. The talent that the Almighty has given some of these actors is just beyond words! I've even been invited to the opera to see one actor perform! Oh, I do believe I see "Mercutio" across the room. Excuse me- Mercutio!"
As Aziraphale makes his way back into the crowd of stifled bodies, you turn your head back to peer at Crowley as they take a seat onto a plush red velvet couch. Sinking into the couch, they spreads their legs open wide, almost invitingly.
"The opera? I like the sound of that." Eyebrows raising, creasing their forehead as they peer at you through dark glasses. With a free hand they tap their thigh, inviting you in. You happily take it as you make yourself comfortable upon it, head falling upon their shoulder.
"You know what I like the sound of? Silence. I do believe that I am beginning to overstay my welcome," you sigh tiredly as you study the side of their face. Finding your eyes tracing the tattooed snake just beside their ear.
"Oh come on, what are you talking about? The fun's just barely begun. Plus I've heard rumors of what really goes on in Will's study, if you know what I mean," their hold on you becomes tighter as they wiggles their eyebrows suggestively.
"Crowley, c'mon be serious," you protested.
"I am! You're gonna tell me that doesn't peak even the tiniest bit of your interest?"
"What? No. Crowley, I mean it. I'm heading back home, need to step away for the night."
The demon fully turns their face to look at you for a second and as they look into your tired eyes, they let out a sigh, defeated that only you could make them change their mind and make them bend in ways they never though possible. Defeated that you were their soft spot.
"Alright, let's go love," they sigh as they pull the both of you onto your feet. Taking a hold of your hand, they guide you through the crowd as the two of you make your way outside of the theatre and back onto the streets of London. You knew Aziraphale would be fine on his own, as he had no intention of his ending his night anytime soon, thoroughly enjoying himself in the presence of talented artists. Crowley maintained an arm wrapped around your shoulder as the two of you walked on cobblestone until the bookshop finally came into view.
"Home sweet home," Crowley announces as the two of you make your way inside the dimly lit bookshop. Taking your coat off, you blow out the remaining candles that had been lit prior to your departure and made your way upstairs to your bedroom. You heard Crowley trailing not too far behind, and as you make your way into your bedroom you look behind to see them leaning against the doorframe.
"You can come in Crowley, you know that." You softly smile as you find their sheepish behavior rather odd.
"Nah i'm good, I was thinkin' of taking off. Just wanted to make sure you were alright s'all."
Having known Crowley since the dawn of creation, you knew when they were deceiving you.
"Crowley?"
"Hmm?"
"Come inside, dear."
"Well alright, I mean if you insist," the demon blows a puff of air before making their way inside, shutting the door behind them.
They made themself comfortable as you got dressed for bed. You felt Crowley's eyes burning on you with your every move, and the fact alone made heat creep its way up your face. Turning to face them again, you saw them burrowed beneath the multiple blankets that draped your bed. Making your way beneath them, you slide in beside Crowley but still left enough roof to distance the two of you.
"Any particular reason you're so far?" The demon quips as their yellow eyes quizzingly look into yours.
"Didn't know if you wanted me to be that close."
"You know me better than anyone, y/n. You know the distance never made a difference to me, love." With that they pull you closer until you're engulfed in their body heat as you remained pressed against their side.
It wasn't unusual for you and the demon to be close like this, in fact in ways it was one of the reasons your bond with each other was so strong. Crowley, for better or for worse, craved physical touch. Having been deprived of it in their time in Hell, the only time they ever felt the touch of another is when pain and violence would be awaiting on the other side of it. With you it was different, it was their way of demonstrating emotions where words failed him. Most days it would be small things like a hand placed on the small of your back, or their hand laying gently on your knee whenever you sat near, but tonight it was different. By the way they had been handsy all night and with the distant look in their eyes as they stared up at the ceiling, you knew something was up.
"Crowley?"
"Hmm," they hum back in acknowledgement, eyes still fixed on the ceiling.
"What's on your mind?"
Crowley remains still for a minute, holding in a breath of ancient dread as they pondered over how to encapsulate the overwhelmingly conflicting emotions they were feelings, emotions they've felt since the Fall.
"S'nothing, you just get some sleep," they mutter, hoping to whisk away your concern as a way of sparing them from having to confront their emotions.
"Crowley..."
"Y/n?"
"I know when you're lying to me. I can sense that your mind is elsewhere, talk to me."
You pull back from where you laid and propped yourself up on your elbow, in order to fully look at him. Raising your other hand you softly run it through their locks before hooking a hand underneath their chin, turning their face to look at you.
"I'm here," you whisper.
Crowley's eyes search yours and they're met with nothing but adoration. The twinkle of the very stars they've created were nothing but a pale comparison to the light of hope that glimmered in your eyes. The light that no matter how hard they tried to run from, they always found themself running home to.
"It's the torment."
"From?"
"From the fall. Seems silly to dwell on something so ancient, but those demons, that torture..." their voice wavers as dread aches through their spine, "i guess it never really goes away."
Words die on your lips as your heartaches for the pain Crowley's been through. They never talked about what torture awaited for them in Hell after the Fall, but as an angel you could only imagine the suffering that was Crowley's fate.
You hadn't realized how silent you had been until Crowley shifts to sit upright. Mirroring their actions you move to face them and you see the way they try to hide from you as Crowley buries their face within their hands.
"Crowley, I understand I won't ever know what you feel, but one thing I do know is that you don't deserve to live in that pain. Something so vast as the darkness of the universe before you illuminated it with your creation." You gently wrap your hands around their wrists and pull them away to reveal Crowley's eyes reddened from silent tears.
"Let me walk with you, in that darkness."
"You could get lost in it," they shake their head, sniffling as they feel vulnerable by the transparency of their emotions.
"Then let me be lost in it, as long as I'm lost with you." You brush their hair back before your hands softly caress the side of their face.
"It would be your sin, I would be your sin." Crowley's hands creep their way up to your side as they hold onto you tightly, afraid you would realize the wickedness that lies within them and leave in disgust. The space between you and Crowley had shrunk as your foreheads pressed together. Your eyes never left theirs as the pain behind their serpent eyes sought refuge in you. You could feel their warm breath fanning over your lips, and for just a second you dare to move your gaze to look at his lips. Lips that looked so soft and tempting to draw you in. You didn't miss the way Crowley had also flickered to look at yours as well, so when your eyes meet again you felt a certain clarity wave afront as the feelings for the demon you held in your hands could no longer be buried.
"If sin be from thy lips then thus with a kiss I die."
Your words fall as a whispered prayer onto Crowley's ear as you close the spaces between and capture their lips into a soft kiss. After overcoming initial shock, Crowley's lips moved with yours in something so sweet as a sacrament. Yet that sweetness quickly turned into hunger as they kissed back fiercely, hungry for more and you were willing to be devoured whole. The burning within your lungs became too strong and you pulled away. Resting your forehead against Crowley's, as you both caught your breath you look into their eyes and see the mischievous light that you had sorely missed.
"You're in for it this time, love. A whole new world of sin," Crowley rasped lowly, as a wicked smile grew on their face.
"Very well then, give me my sin again."
It's been 423 years since that fateful night that would change the trajectory of Crowley and yours relationship forever. You loved each other in secret, while finding freedom in your relationship on Earth, both of you still feared the consequences you would face if either of your sides caught wind of the true nature of your relationship. It seemed that your relationship only got better with time, Armageddon was a testament of that. With the help of Aziraphale, the two of you managed to prevent a destructive war between Heaven and Hell, and remained living on Earth amongst the crowds of humans whose lives had been spared by your hands. Yet, despite this somewhat happy ending, Crowley knew that the fight wasn't over just.
"If you would just listen to me for once y/n, you would see that we are in danger."
"You're being irrational, Crowley. There is no war!"
Your voice had gone raw from how long you and Crowley had been screaming at each other. Crowley was trying to convince you that Heaven and Hell were conspiring and would be back for their revenge, and soon. You however were stuck in your stubbornness and were determined that their was no danger in sight.
Even with their shades on, you could feel the intensity of Crowley's glare as they stared back at you wide-eyed in disbelief that you could be this blind. Pacing the kitchen floor of his apartment, they pinched the bridge of their nose, trying to calm themselves down even though it felt it was useless.
"Y/n, listen to me," they say lowly, "you, Aziraphale, and I are in trouble. The longer we spend on Earth the longer we walk around with a target on our backs waiting to be killed."
"Crowley please, enough of this," you wave your arms impatiently as you pleaded with them with desperate eyes.
Crowley walks across the kitchen island and stand in front of you, holding your arms tightly within his grasp.
"Come with me."
"What?"
"Come with me. We can leave this place while we still have a chance. We can travel amongst the universe and settle down on any other planet. We can have a new start, turn a new page."
"Crowley, we're fine. I promise there is no danger he-"
"No, but you're wrong y/n, because there is!"
You flinch at the boom of their voice as their hands tighten around you. Fear flashing your eyes as you let out a sharp hiss from their tight grip that burned your skin.
"Crowley! Stop, you're scaring me." You manage to free yourself from their grasp. Breathing heavily, you stare at them frozen in fear, unable to recognize Crowley for the first time.
Crowley's faced drop and seeing the fear that they had instilled in you made their body slack and and a weighted dread sink into their stomach. Averting your eyes as you rubbed over the spots where they once held you, they could feel their heart break. The very hands that they swore to use to protect you, had been the same ones to hurt you. As you hesitated to look back up at the demon, when your eyes met and you saw the inner turmoil within their serpent eyes, you imagined the darkness that Crowley's mind was spiring down upon.
"Crowley I-"
"Don't." They stumble backwards distancing themself, afraid of what else they might do, afraid of hurting you again.
Crowley never meant to hurt you, and deep down you knew this. You two had your fair share of arguments over the course of millenniums but they never once lost control of their emotions and hurt you in the way they just did. Even as Crowley heard your thoughts, reassuring them that they weren't wicked and a danger, it wasn't enough. You knew the risks of being with a demon, and they were always afraid that one day you'd decide that being with them was a mistake and that you'd walk out of their life forever. And now, seeing you in this light, seeing that he hurt you and could hurt you, that scared them more than anything.
"There are somethings that'll never change."
Crowley swiftly made way for the door, feeling the walls of the apartment closing in on them. The shouts of Crowley's name as you quickly followed them fell on deaf ears. You're meet with the pouring rain as you follow Crowley outside into the driveway, the lightning being the only thing illuminating the night sky. The growing rolls of thunder seemed to match your quickened heartbeat as your anxiety grew with Crowley's distancing stride.
"Crowley, please!" Your voice comes out strained as you desperately cry out to Crowley. Opening the drivers side, Crowley stiffens as though fighting with themself to stay or go. Looking back at you, their red locks clinging to their face as their face scrunched in anguish, heart breaking more as they saw the pained look on your face.
"As long as you're with me, you will always be in danger."
The memory of Crowley driving away and leaving you behind replayed in your mind all throughout the night. Flashing days and sleepless nights passed as Crowley consumed your thoughts, unable to hide from the pain that their absence caused. This being the farthest things escalated in your relationship, you clung onto hope that there was a way to come back from this. That Crowley would come back and you could find a way to move past this together.
As days turned into weeks, you felt the hope that once burned so brightly begin to snuff out into smoke as you faced the probable reality that Crowley would never return and that you were left on your own. Well not completely on your own. After noticing how silent things had been from you and Crowley, Aziraphale decided to check in. Unaware of the mess that he would stumble upon, he felt blindsided from the state of things, heart broken too in the wake of Crowley's absence. Yet, seeing your severely distressed state, the angel put his emotions aside in order to attend to you. He took you within his care, hoping to help bring the light back in your eyes and comfort you until Crowley could come back.
Padding down the wooden hallway floors, you rub the fatigue of another sleepless night from your eyes as Aziraphale's door comes into view. Pressing an ear against the door, you found the silence on the other side of the door rather odd as he was usually up by this hour. Knocking lightly against the wooden door, you await to hear a stir yet when you get no response, you open the door to make your way in. Walking inside, the sleeping frame of Aziraphale's body come into view as he begins to stir from the noise of your intrusion.
"Y/N? Is everything alright, dear?" The angels voice come out raspy, fresh from sleep.
"Yea, i'm okay," you croak out, voice weary.
He looks at you for a moment, curious as to your sudden intrusion, not that he was bothered but that it was out of character for you to come to him so early in the day. With slow movements, Aziraphale slowly rises from bed, tightening the robe around himself as he made his way to the window. With a tug, the suns rays engulf the room as it casts its warm light throughout the space. Aziraphale closes his eyes, as though in silent gratitude prayer, and basks in the suns warmth. Looking at him, you can't help but feel a stillness in his beauty, especially with the way the sunlight illuminates his face and casts a celestial orange glow around him. Making him look even more angelic if that were even possible.
"But soft, what light through yonder window breaks," Aziraphale breaks the silence, opening his eyes and turning to face you.
"It is the east, and Crowley is the sun."
"You would deprive that from the Almighty herself?" Smiling brightly, you don't miss the way Aziraphale teases you for your endearing words. You find small comfort in his childish tease and bright smile, not being able to help the way your lips tug upwards at his remark. Aziraphale relishes in the small happiness that flashes across your face, even if brief. It had hurt him to see his love in pain especially at the hand of someone he too loved. Looking back to the window, he finds himself getting lost gazing into the crowded streets of Soho beneath him. A silence settles over the two of you, and your eyes remained fix on his side profile as the emptiness of the gravity of your situation creeps back into your mind.
"Crowley's not coming back." It was you who broke the silence this time, Aziraphale turning to you taken aback with furrowed eyebrows by how matter-of-factly you spoke.
"What ever do you mean?"
"I mean they're gone," you inhaled sharply, "for good this time."
"Well no, not really. I'm sure they'll come back, you know how Crowley gets." Aziraphale. Ever the optimist until the very end.
"Aziraphale-"
"You've always known how dramatic they can be I mean really-"
"Aziraphale-" you call out, his optimism making your wounds bleed even more at the false promises of an angel.
"Look, it's only a matter of time before Crowley walks through that door and everything will be as-"
"Aziraphale!" Your voice angrily booms like a roll of thunder as it bounces off the bedroom walls.
"They're not coming back! Aren't they?!"
Despite your volume, it was your tone that cut like a knife. Even as your voice felt so shaky, you spat those words out like venom that laid bitterly on your tongue. Aziraphale could feel his heart break as he stared into your eyes. Red and puffy from fighting to keep your emotions at bay, but also cold and unwavering as you forced yourself to come to the crossroads of the truth.
"No," he says barely above a whisper, a slight tremble in his voice as he barely shakes his head. "No, i'm afraid not my dear."
You've never seen Aziraphale look so defeated. So hopeless as he stared back into your lifeless eyes. The air around you feels restricted as your throat tightens. Your lips quiver as the painful truth of your beloved angels words echo in your head and settle in your heart. Your vision blurs as tears begin to welt in your eyes before inevitably cascading down your cheeks. Aziraphale then wraps his arms around you, pulling you in a tight embrace as you collapse within his arms. Sobs muffled from where your head laid buried in his chest, the world going silent as an insurmountable wave of grief washes over you, pulling you to drown in a sea of sorrow.
You don't know how long you cried for or even how much time had passed. When you came out of your daze, you realized that you and Aziraphale were on the floor as he pressed soft kisses against your temple, hoping to reel you back into reality.
"Forgive me," you croak, voice spent from lament, "i've been lonely, but it's not like I don't know my way." You try to reassure Aziraphale and yourself as you felt hollowed. Guilt also eating at you for putting the angel in this situation, having to take care of you.
"You have nothing to be forgiven for, my dear" he whispers lowly into your ear. Taking the hands that were wrapped tightly around you, he brings them up to caress your face within them. Your tears have dried by now but that doesn't stop him from peppering tender kisses upon your cheeks. Overwhelmed by his soft touch, you feel your face heat up again as the gentle sentiment causes your emotions to arise again. When he feels a salty tear catch upon his lip, he pulls away to see your glossy eyes staring back into his, searching for some kind of relief.
"But I don't know my way, Aziraphale."
The angel remained at your side for the rest of the day, never leaving you alone for a moment longer than absolutely needed. As he aided to your every need and treated you like a fine china plate- afraid to drop you and shatter into a million pieces. And for a while it helped, it made the pain more bearable, the ache of Crowley's absence less debilitating- but even all of Aziraphale's love wouldn't be enough to ix the hole that Crowley left in your life.
You thought hard about your next move. Calculating everything over in your head a million times but all roads led you back to where you were now. Managing to slip out of the Aziraphale's bedroom in the middle of the night, you made your way back to your original bedroom where you were now packing frantically. You packed as much as you could into your suitcase as you grew restless, wanting nothing more than to run away from this emptiness you fear you would never escape from.
As you left your suitcase by the stairwell, you looked down the hall before quietly making your way back to Aziraphale's room. Once inside, you made sure to leave behind the note that you had written for him on the side where you usually laid. You burn the image of his sleeping frame into your mind, wanting your last memory of the angel to be one where he seemed at peace. Leaning across the bed, you place a soft kiss upon the corner of his mouth, careful not to wake him. He stirred slightly beneath your touch, but still remained in a deep sleep even as you pulled away.
Making way for the bedroom door, you freeze under the entranceway.
"Look back, look back," you thought to yourself, a voice of reason wanting to make itself hear. Despite this, you fought against it and forced one foot in front of the other, because you knew if you looked back you would never leave. The cold air greets you as you make your way out into the streets of Soho, winds blowing harshly as you toss your bag into the backseat of your car. As the engine roars to life and you pull onto the main road, you glance at the rearview mirror where the bookshop fades from view. Silently saying goodbye to the place that had too also become home for you. You don't know exactly where you were headed, but just that you were ready to get there. Ready to go, but never to return.
The next morning, Aziraphale finds himself sitting on the edge of the bed where he gripped the white sheets, frustration and heartache threatening to drown him as he re-read your letter line for line, over and over and over again.
"Dearest Aziraphale,
My love, I'm sorry for the mess I've left for you to clean, it was unfair to you given your own heartbreak. Azira, I cannot thank you enough for what you've done for me now and in the past. But now I must go my own way and figure out what to write in this next chapter for myself. I know things will be difficult for if they weren't... well you see I would've killed Romeo and saved Juliet, but I don't write stories that time won't forget. So please angel, forgive me for grabbing the kerosene and letting it all burn to the ground. I've been looking for meaning, I don't know if I like what I've found. Forgive me for I've been lonely and one day I hope to tell you that I now know my way. I'm sorry. "
summary: sneaking behind heaven and hells back, you and crowley reach the end of the road and he has to make a choice whether or not to let you in
tw: angst, fighting, religious themes, hurt/comfort, lotta hurt at first tho
wc: 1,615
a/n: inspiration stems from run by hozier
In the eons of Crowley's existence there had been very few times where they've felt true pain. Living through devastating natural and manmade disasters, the rise and fall of empires, famine, and death - none of those had left an impact on them quite like the your absence has made in their life.
You and Crowley's relationship could be described as corrupt in the eyes of Heaven and Hell if they knew the true nature of it. The truth was that the two of you had spent centuries pining over each other, but neither of you had acted on it in fear of punishment and bearing the wrath and hatred of some other mans belief. Despite this, you two managed. You knew where your relationship stood, and with this you came to love each other in secret, laws of Heaven and Hell neglected whenever you were in each other's embrace.
Life with the fallen angel was exhilarating, Crowley brought out a side of you that you never thought possible. Danger and mischief seemed to always lurk around the corner but you didn't mind because you knew you were safe as long as you were by Crowley's side. You rubbed off the demon as well, you amplified the gentle side that you knew was always there but they just kept hidden, locked away. You showed them what it felt like to be loved unconditionally and you brought a light into Crowley's life that they'd been searching for since the fall.
While embarking on adventures and loving each other through the monumental and the mundane- the highs were high, but the lows were abysmal. Crowley had their flaws, and you weren't perfect by any means. So whenever you would clash, it felt like the dread of an oncoming war. Pain and destruction would remain whenever you and Crowley were at your worst, and this time you felt that things were too broken, too devastated, too damned to mend.
It had been four months since you left Crowley's apartment in the middle of the night without so much as a note telling of your whereabouts. Crowley, still blinded by their anger brushed it off and assumed that you would return once you've cooled down. But days, turned into weeks, and months and after four months away without so much as a letter or a phone call from you, Crowley knew that the situation was graver than previously imagined. Their self-loathing was immensable, knowing that it was their actions and self-sabotaging that drove you away. It took another angelic intervention to be able to find their way back to you. Aziraphale was the only one who knew of your whereabouts and swore to not say a word of it to anyone - but when his demon friend came into his bookshop, bloodshot eyed and begging to know where you were, well he couldn't help himself.
That's where Crowley found themself now, on coastal roads in the south of France. Growing more impatient and anxious the closer they got to your address. You heard that precious Bentley from miles away before you even heard the knock on your door.
"Piss off!" You shouted bitterly from the other side of the door.
"How'd you bloody even know it was me?" Crowley said surprised that you immediately knew it was them.
"The only one who comes to visit is the mailman and he doesn't blast Queen!"
"Sounds like you need a better mailman," Crowley muttered to themself underneath their breath.
"Look would you just open the fucking d-" Crowley then heard the creaking of a gate opening and closing not too far off in the distance. Groaning in frustration, they march off behind the cottage you were staying at until they find the gate and is met with the sight of you trekking your way through the sands on the rather solitary beach.
Rushing to the shore to meet you, Crowley's met with the raging sea foaming with your loneliness.
"Save it Crowley, I don't want to hear whatever it is you have to say," you shout at them without sparing a look behind as you stomp your way to shoreline where the seafoam of the moving waves soaked your bare feet.
"Well that's not very nice of you, angel," Crowley quips back mockingly.
"You've used up all my niceties, Crowley. I have no more grace to offer you."
"Look love, i'm terribly sorry, okay? I'm sorry for the way we left things when you left. Now can we go home and get off of this fucking beach, you know how much I hate sand."
"No, Crowley." Finally facing them, your cold stare and unwavering tone catches Crowley off guard.
"I'm sorry?"
"I said no," you responded bitterly.
"Look y/n, I know how I am. I'm all ill tempered and hateful and push everyone away until they bugger off for good but for my sake y/n will you just please get in the car?"
"No, Crowley. You hurt me, okay? You don't get to come here and think an apology is going to fix what's shattered here. It doesn't work like that...not this time." As your voice trailed off at the end you stand up taller as you look Crowley in the eye.
Beats of silence pass between the two of you as Crowley tries to find the words to say. They knew it would be hard to be able to clean up the mess they've made, but your cold stare in your eyes made them uneasy in ways they've never felt. Here, you looked almost unrecognizable from the way Crowley's always know you since the dawn of creation. Eyes of wonder that looked into your ancient soul had always been a stark contrast to their hungry eyes carried by sneering menagerie. But now that light of wonder was windowed by pain, and at their hand. Crowley took note of the darkened sky above them and the distant thunder that rolled over the sea. Crowley could feel your anger and pain as you shifted the weather, winds growing stronger as you stood unmoving in front of them. Crowley felt crisp trepidation washing over them, a dread weighing down on them as it settled deep within their stomach.
"You knew what you were signing up for the day that we," flinging their hand between the two of you, "...became us. I told you from the very beginning that I'm too much, I'm scarred and torn beyond repair and I've built walls to protect myself and you from that pain, from that ugly shame."
"That never scared me and you know it, Crowley. I know who you were, who you've always been but you know that you don't have to suffer alone. It hurts me to see you carrying it all alone when I can help."
"S'not fair to you. You deserve better."
"I don't want better Crowley, I want you!" Lighting striking down as you exasperatedly shout back at them.
"I am somewhere outside your life, Crowley. I keep scratching but somehow I can't get in!"
Beneath your sky and punishing cold, Crowley knew that they couldn't live without you. That would be true Hell to them. With their serpent eyes never leaving yours, Crowley does something they haven't done since before the fall. Body slowing sinking down, they kneel before you. As the wind howls through their ginger locks, your breath hitches at the scene in front of you. Marveled at the sight of Crowley baring their onliness.
"My life is in your hands. It always has been."
Their hands creep up, knuckles turning white from clutching onto your side tightly as if with just a thought- in an instant you too would be washed away by the waves.
"In all of my eternity living-aimlessly walking through this earth, for once I see the truth in you. No one sees me but you. Forget Heaven and Hell, they're just words to me. I surrender my life to you, y/n."
The storm raging of ancient misery you've conjured slowly grows weaker as their words fully sink into your soul. You knew Crowley was good at heart, that they weren't inherently evil, but with them kneeling at your feet, their soul exposed and in your hands.
Sinking slowly into the ground you kneel in front of them, as you remain eye-leveled with Crowley you lift your hands to slowly caress their face and upon contact their eyes shut as a shudder escapes their lips. Feeling the dried tears that had fallen down their cheeks.
"Our sides may think that there is something wretched about this but I don't give a damn-I know there's something precious about this. Rare is this love Crowley, I need you to vow to keep it covered."
"With my wretched soul."
A small shudder of a chuckle leaves your lips and for the first time in a very long time, hope embeds itself into your heart with the promise of blossoming fully.
"Your wretched is my precious, my dear."
Crowley's lips curve into a small smile as their chest sinks, exhaling airs of tension they had bottled up.
With arms snaking their way around you even tighter, Crowley pulls you in as they crashes their lips onto yours. Desperate and all consuming, devouring each other other in attempts to make up for all the love lost and this new beginning you've found. With burning lungs you pull away and press your foreheads against theirs. Catching your breath you open your eyes to find Crowley's loving gaze already staring at you.
"Know that I love you, y/n," Crowley confesses hoarsely.
"I know," you say breathlessly. "I love you, Crowley."
summary: wills just been released from the baltimore state hospital for the criminally insane, he's lost parts of himself and you try to calm him through the storm that is his mind.
wc: 1,202
a/n: inspo from two songs actually: bobby by alex g, i know you by faye webster, and maybe a line of maroon by ts.
will, you have been my rare gift in this life- <3
It's been four days since Will had been released from the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.
Not even within the hour of being released, Jack Crawford had him back on the field. You added to your list of grievances against Jack when Beverly shot you a text saying Will was working on the case of Miriam Lass. You felt defeated as one of the poisons in Will's life had managed to seep his way in again.
Jack wouldn't allow you to visit Will while he was admitted. He said your personal relationship would interfere with the case against him. As your boss, you knew he was in the right, but as someone who also knew Will, he knew the harm he was doing by placing you out of reach.
When Jack came to your office to tell you of Will's attempt on murdering Hannibal, he had expected any other reaction then the one you had given.
"He's been telling you from the start Jack but you won't listen." Looking up at him you see the unamused look on his face from where he stands towering over your desk.
"What are you implying then?" Leaning over he gets closer as he carries an edge in his voice. You know an intimidation tactic when you see one and you remain unphased underneath his gaze.
"You kill Hannibal, you kill the Chesapeake Ripper. Once you see the murders have you stopped, then you'll believe that it was Hannibal all this time."
You get up from your desk and grab your coat as you make way for the door before granting him one last look.
"Just like Will has been telling you."
Now Will's home, but he's not. After spending a few months locked away as a pawn in somebody else's game, he came back a different man. He lost a piece of himself every day. As everyone turned against him, and without having you as an anchor, he questioned his mind, his sanity, and his reality.
Right now you both sat side by side on the front porch of the farmhouse as you watched the dog's play around in the snow. You never thought that you would get this back, to be able to feel things were normal for even a second and Will wasn't battling forces of evil that were far too intricate for you to comprehend.
"I missed this," you break the silence that hung in the air. " Things feel normal for once."
"I don't think normal is something that I can go back to y/n," his voice came out hoarse, sleep still evident in his throat.
"There's still a chance though, right?" You throw a side glance of him as you bring the cup of your coffee within your hands, up to your lips.
Will stays silent for a while. You weren't sure if even you were waiting for a response, understanding if he didn't. His mind is no longer the way it was months before, operating in an entirely new way as he viewed the world through a different lens.
Yet you remained the same in his eyes. His perfect design. He knew that Jack was punishing him by preventing you from seeing him, and not seeing you for a long time caused irrevocable damage to him. The voices in his head told him that you wouldn't believe him, that you couldn't be with a man as broken as he was, that you didn't love him anymore.
He turned his head to look at your face. As you felt his eyes on you, you met his gaze and he felt his heart swell within his chest. He still felt that rush that surged through him whenever he was near you. Will has loved you through your toughest storms, but he didn't think he was worthy of your undying loyalty, love, and patience.
"Where's your mind at Will?" Voice gentle, afraid that he may shut you out at the sudden curiosity.
"I told everyone Hannibal was a killer...and nobody believed me."
There's a pain so evident in his voice that you've never heard before. An ache so profound so desolate, that it just confirms how it'll be a long time before Will would get even a fraction of his mind back.
"I did," you softly affirmed.
"I do."
"How can you love me?"
"Do you remember when we first met?" His eyebrows scrunch up, not understanding the connection or relevance to the topic at hand. Taking his silence as means to go on, you think back to all those years ago to when you and Will were still in your lunchbox days.
"I grabbed your hand and you tore my dress after I got so upset at the amount of mud that caked at the bottom of it. You've cleaned up so many of my messes over the years Will as I have for you. With you, I've felt things I can't express and I know you've lost your way and made your messes but I'll clean it for you."
You reach out for his hand and with fingers intertwined, he feels a sense of comfort-something that had almost become foreign to him. But of course you were the one to remind him of that feeling, because even after this time you were the candle burning in the bleak of the night. The one shred of hope he had left that there was good in this world, that the raging seas that his mind traveled through would one day calm down to still waters.
"Did you ever lose faith in me?"
"No," you immediately replied.
"I told you a long time ago that I had enough faith for the both of us and I meant it." Squeezing his hand, he took note of how your eyes shifted around as you tried to fight off the intense wave of emotions he knew were consuming you.
"I didn't lose it then even when you tried to have Hannibal killed. I know you had your reasons and I could understand why you did what you did. And there's no way in hell i'm gonna lose it now."
"I love you unforgivably Will, without hesitation." Your voice comes out high pitched towards the end as you felt your throat tightening.
"I'm here regardless of the pain, don't ever tell me to go away from you. I know you, Will. I love you."
He lets go of your intertwined hands before wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer to him. He laid his chin on top of your head as you burrowed your face into the side of his neck. The scent of his aftershave filled your senses and you let out a heavy sigh, grateful that moments like these could happen. Grateful that Will was here and hopeful that there could be a path to healing.
"I know you too, and I love you y/n," he whispers as he pulls back to capture your lips in a soft kiss. The lips that he knew he could always call home.
summary: will's been going down a dark path and feels like he's losing everything, from control, his sense of self, to reality. he fears he'll lose you too.
a/n: based off a nightmare i had a while back that to this day i still think about all the time because it felt too real. only difference is that will was the victim of violence displayed in dream sequence.
Will was shutting himself out.
It wasn't the first time that he had done this but something about this time around felt different, felt more dangerous.
You had seen the way Jack Crawford had been pushing him, and you were afraid it was only a matter of time before Will reached the point of no return. You carried a bit of guilt with you, since you had been the one to bring Will under Jacks radar. You knew about his gifts, his profound sense of empathy, and you thought by joining Jacks team he could make a real difference. While proven to be true, Jack saw a machine that he could constantly use without ever thinking about the rust that he would cause from exhaustion.
The light in his eyes had been slowly going out and you felt helpless as you felt the man you loved drift away from you. Countless nights you'd reach for him only to be met with cold sheets. Only then you would find him outside shivering, untethered from reality as the horrors from the murders he saw daily plagued his mind. Other nights you'd wake up to his shivers as he jerked from nightmares drenched in sweat.
"Will." Your voice comes out groggy as you turn to face the movement you felt within your shared bed. What you see strikes fear in your heart as you see Will shaking, trembling, drenched in sweat as ragged breaths escaped his lips.
"Will, honey wake up," you say tapping his face gently. When you see no response you begin to lightly shake him by his arm, not wanting him to wake up even more scared.
"Please," you whisper, pleading desperately as you give him a rather harder shake.
When his eyes shoot open, his breathing becomes even more rapid as he's brought back to reality.
"Hey, hey, shhh it's alright," you say softly as you let out an air of relief. Finding the tiniest comfort that he was able to come back.
As you push away the damped locks clinging to his forehead, he seems to relax underneath your touch. Wrapping a hand around your wrist suddenly, you're scared that the touch was unwelcomed, that the act of affection had been too much for him in such a vulnerable state. Yet when he moved his hand to place it on top of yours you knew that the opposite was true, that he found solace in your gentle touch.
"I'm here. I'm right here," you whisper before planting a kiss on his temple. He shuddered at the act as he felt overwhelmed by a sea of emotions. After a couple of minutes minutes his breathing evened out and you manage to coax him to sit upright in the bed.
As he hid his face in his hands trying to fully come back down to earth, you rubbed circles across his back hoping that it would help the process.
"I don't think I can do this much longer." His voice comes out muffled as he still had his face hid.
"Will, honey we don't have to talk about it." You tilt your head sideways at him sympathetically, not wanting to push him further into his pain.
"It was real. It was so real y/n." As he turns his head to meet your gaze you can see the pain hidden behind those eyes that carried so many beasts of burden.
"I can't save you, y/n."
Will extended a hand as he wiped the steam from his shower away from the mirror. He had a difficult time staring back at what was in the mirror. Somehow his reflection felt something so familiar yet so foreign. Familiar in the sense that he recognized these features as his own- his mothers eyes, his father hair, only his curls had now grown longer. Yet foreign in the way that he couldn't connect these features to himself, they didn't match the mental reflection of himself in his mind.
Closing his eyes for a second, he shakes his head as he pushes those thoughts aside, not wanting to spiral down a rabbit hole. Reaching for the towel he used earlier, he wrapped it around himself, tucking it lowly on his hips. As he opened the door and into your shared bedroom he was caught off guard by the darkness that consumed the room. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, scanning the room he saw your figure standing at the foot of the bed with your back facing him.
Calling out your name he reached closer to you, as an eeriness settled within his stomach. Extending a hand out as he reached for you and grabbed your shoulder, the sight he saw as you turned around made his blood run cold and his stomach drop.
"Will," you croaked out. Blood soaked through your clothes as a grappling hook had been pushed through your abdomen, flesh tearing and bone exposed and broken as it had clawed it ways through you.
"I'm sorry," was all that you could choke out as blood began to seep its way through the corners of your mouth.
Will took you into his arms as you both sank to the floor, clinging onto you tightly as he felt the world crumble beneath him.
"No, no, no, no. Y/n, stay with me," he pleaded as he took in the sight of your corrupted body. His mind couldn't even form a thought as he saw the way the hook had mutilated you completely from the inside out, hollowing you from the inside.
"Do you hear me? Y/n? You have to stay with me?"
His immediate thought was to call Jack. As he looked around the room frantically racking his brain as to where he left his cell phone, he freezes when he sees as familiar face lurking in the shadows. A face that's followed him everywhere and is there even when he closes his eyes. Garret Jacob Hobbs stands in the corner, face pale and just as lifeless as the last time Will saw him.
His breath hitches in his throat and he feels the room close in on him as he locks eyes with GJH cold lifeless gaze.
"See?" The ghost smiles sinisterly as he breaks eye contact to look down at his work. At the mutilated and dying corpse of the one thing Will loved most in this world.
"Will," you call out softly, "look at me."
If he heard you, he made no effort to obey you as he continued staring straight ahead.
"Will, please. Come back, look at me love."
Will slowly turned his head until he locked eyes with you and he felt the lump in his throat grow bigger and fear climbed it's way up threatening to suffocate him.
You moved cautiously so as not to spook him, you reached over to take one of his hands that gripped the sheets and placed it flat on your chest.
"Do you feel that?"
Will only looked sadly at your sandwiched hands, not knowing whether to trust what was in front of him.
"Will, i'm here and i'm alive." It was only then that Will could feel the faint beat of your heart beneath his hand. Steady and alive.
"I promise you, he can't hurt me."
When Will met your eyes again, his had glossed over and it was only then that he could finally feel relief. Feel secure in your touch and that you being alive was the truth. He buried his head into your chest as he began to sob, feeling his tears fall on your clothes.
Will was fragile. This you knew. His mind was a maze that even he couldn't fully understand. You'd never know if you would truly understand the terrors Will faced but you knew that you would be there to grant him ease of mind. To bring light to the darkness that is his mind because to Will that's what you were. A lighthouse shinning at sea, guiding him back ashore.
